#the way my parental instinct was going CRAZY last session

[2-cute-4-school]

𝘕𝘊𝘛 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴

requested by the lovely @m4rshm4llow​ (*ૂ❛ัᴗ❛ั*ૂ)

Mark Lee

i think mark is quite good with children too when he’s not frozen in awkwardness

but i wouldn’t trust with him alone with a kid for too long tbh

like i see him as someone who could probably entertain a kid for a couple of hours succesfully but taking care of them?? yeah no (˵¯͒ བ¯͒˵)

so let’s say he had to tag along with you to babysit because he didn’t want to waste any time he could spend with you *let my boy receive his love*

but he’s not thaaaat excited he just hopes that the kid will get K.O.-ed early in the night so he could have some alone time with you( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°).... TO CUDDLE ya nasties

so when you arrive at your cousin’s house and you come in

he surely DIDN’T expect a kid to literally throw himself onto you and cling to your legs while chanting your name o(*^▽^*)o

the only way you can get him to detach so you can walk is if you pick him up in your arms

“y/n, who’s he?” mark just stares at the chubby finger pointed at him and produces an *HIGHLY AWKWARD* smile like (*′☉.̫☉)

“oh this is mark, my boyfriend”

*silence* “ew”

now hold on rewind

did a kid just ‘ew’ at mark (｡☉︵ ಠ╬)

and then he had THE AUDACITY to cling to your neck while rambling about his new robot toy and mark had to THIRDWHEEL the entire night

now he’s sure you have superpowers how could you tame that!!??!?! even haechan could be considered mild in comparison to... this ʕ •̀ o •́ ʔ

he’s pouty the entire evening while you play and take care of the newly spawned devil in town who HOGS your attention the entire time

so when he finally runs out of energy a bit later than mark would have hoped for, he’s quick to envelop you in his arms and drag you into a well deserved cuddle session ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

“what took you so looong?”

“sorry sorry, i had to look under his man for boogeyman”

“pffft i think boogeyman is the one looking under his bed for that kid”

but he does melt when he remembers the way your eyes sparkled as the child giggled excitedly on your lap while imagining himself in the picture too (๑°꒵°๑)･*♡

Huang Renjun

renjun as we all know is just a bit short tempered so i’m not sure where he stands in his relationship with kids 눈_눈

but also he brings up his younger cousins quite often and he seems very fond of them whenever he talks about them

so i guess he likes kids but like good kids ya know Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

so let’s say you’re shopping in like one of those bigger supermarkets

and you hear cries

your mother instincts literally GO OFF LIKE CRAZY

renjun doesn’t even have the time to blink before you’re dragging him in the direction of the noise with such precision you might as well have a radar at this point ᕕ༼✿•̀︿•́༽ᕗ

turns out a little girl was lost between the tall aisles

renjun is a lil bewildered cause what is he supposed to do? not like he’s tall enough to see other the aisles in his dreams maybe

but you seem to know EXACTLY what to do as you crouch down in front of the girl and speak to her so gently not even renjun can hear properly

and then as if nothing happened she stops crying

just like that so renjun decides to try his luck too o｜◕ˇ▽ˇ◕｜ツ

“come on, let’s go find mommy and daddy”

and lemme tell ya the little girl sprung into your arms and clung to you with everything she had as she mumbled into your neck

“i only wanna go with miss” (つ﹏<)･ﾟ｡

his eye twitched a lil ngl （；¬＿¬)

and that’s how you end up taking a stroll to the announcement desk with a whole child gripping onto your hand

renjun would have never imagined his grocery run to turn into this

he only wanted some damn carrots not a frickin child ಠ╭╮ಠ

thankfully it didn’t take long for the parents to run over and thank you for returning their child safely but there was only one problem left

getting her to let go of you

that was a whole ass dramatic goodbye

poor renjun was left exhausted after this he gave up any grocery run he intended to do and dragged you home pronto (ﾉTдT)ﾉ

he admires you so much for how you handled the situation and how you seemed to be so natural and in your element he can only think of how great of a mother you will be in the future with his beside you hopefully

Lee Jeno

one word, his greatest asset: PATIENCE

i see jeno as a man of patience which is more than just helpful when it comes to handling children ❀.(*´◡`*)❀.

he’s also volunteered in all these programs that involved children and he did really well if you ask me soooo he’s a good ally to have (︶.̮︶✽)

and you really REALLY want to volunteer together at one of those like emergency centres for children or something

and who is he to deny his love? he couldn’t have even if he wanted to, you’re too cute in his eyes so he lets you get your way anyway

so before you step inside one of the caretakers gives you some advice

warns you that the new kid, a little girl still in primary school, is still very closed off and wary of everyone

but as you step inside the kids get drawn to you like moths to a flame, swarming around you and asking you questions while dragging you in the living room to play with them

jeno just trails behind, watching the entire commotion with his soft eye smile as he understands (◍•ᴗ•◍)

he knows that you just have a way with people, he’s been in the same position mesmerized by you, it’s one of the reasons he loves you so much and seeing you so purely happy surrounded by children

MELTED HIM ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡

eventually you drag him into the happy circle too and he seems to fit in just right by your side with giggling children everywhere around you

he ends up using his muscly arms ᕙ[ ˵ ͡’ ω ͡’ ˵ ]ᕗ as swings

“hey!! i’m stronger than you!!! let’s have a fight!!!!”

you just giggle as you colour some pictures with a few kids but stare at your boyfriend from the corner of your eye

jeno is so simply happy and comfortable he doesn’t even notice when you disappear from the crowd at first

but when he does his eyes search wildly for you like a lost puppy Σ(ﾟﾛ､ﾟ;)

but then he spots you

curled up on a small couch in the corner of the room, deep in conversation with the new girl whose eyes seemed just a little brighter as you clutched her hand in yours warmly ｡ﾟ.(*´◡` )

and jeno just realises again

you’re just working your charm once again and once again jeno falls for you for the nth time, deeper than the last time and lighter than the next

Lee Donghyuck

this manchild right here smh ୧༼◔益◔୧ ༽

now don’t get me wrong i’m pretty sure he’s decent at least with children

given he has two younger siblings and he often talks about hanging out with his little brother also have you seen that vid with the little girl?? the was he talked to her ⊂（♡⌂♡）⊃

buuuut BUT he’s also DYING like a fish out of water without attention

so when he invites you to tag along to his hangout with his lil bro

he didn’t expect TO BE THE ONE THIRDWHEELING!!!! (╬ಠ益ಠ)

you keep feeding and pampering his brother who basks in your full attention half because he loves it half because he loves the annoyed look on hyuck’s face

“babe i want some kimchi too” (*ﾟ∀ﾟ*)

“oh!!! sure, i’m sorry for hoarding it all”

and as hyuck awaits with his eyes closed and his mouth open with a pleased smile

you plop a bowl of kimchi in front of him and turn back to his brother as he tugs on the sleeve of your shirt

hyuck, muttering to himself: ‘i should have left you home, you lil brat, both of you traitors!!!!!’ (ノTДT)ノ ┻┻

he pouts and sighs dramatically with crossed arms the entire night while watching you interact oh so sweetly with his little brother

but he can’t deny the warm feeling of fondness swarming is his chest seeing you get along so well with his family and being so genuinely happy when you’re with kids

still complains to you when he gets you alone

“i can’t believe you love my brother more than me!!! ME, YOUR SWEET LOVELY CUTIE BOYFRIEND!!!” ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

“first of all, i wouldn’t stretch it that far-” “how is that stretching-?!??!”

“i’m sorry i’m sorry, my sweet lovely cutie boyfriend, i just missed him, he’s so cute and i haven’t seen him in so long and he seems to grow so fast every time we meet” (oꆤ︵ꆤo)

NOW hyuck is real soft how can he be mad at you when you’re THIS ADORABLE AFSKSGDFSAF-

hyuck just presses a sweet smooch to your temple and mutters

“he only acts that cute with you, he’s a devil at home”

“sheesh, i wonder who he takes after�� *pointed look* (￢ε￢　)

Na Jaemin

my man here will most likely compete with YOU for the CHILD’S attention

it’s like GAME OVER for him if a child rejects him ε-(≖д≖﹆)

he’s never gonna get over this betrayal from both sides

so let’s say he takes you with him when he offers to babysit a cousin or neighbour idk you get where i’m getting at

and he’s already ‘play buddies’ with him as jaemin likes to put it (,,꒪꒫꒪,,)

and you’re slightly acquitanced with him from a previous visit to jaemin’s house when you coincidentally met

so when jaemin opens the door and announces his presence LOUDLY, the little boy doesn’t waste A SECOND to waddle in the hallway and meet you both ლ(＾ω＾ლ)

and jaemin crouches to meet him midway and-

and he *swooshes* past jaemin and into your open arms while giggling

jaemin, a lonely man in the middle of a hallway: (ಥ⌣ಥ)

the entire day, your boyfriend tries to steal the kid’s attention or bribe him over with sweets or toys

now you’re wondering who the real brat is

is salty about the UTTER rejection but also can’t help but watch you both so fondly with a proud hopefully in future for real fatherly smile (*ૂ❛ัᴗ❛ั*ૂ)

“are you practicing, y/n?”

“pardon?”

“practice, are you practicing?”

“for...?” ∑（´△｀○）

“ya know” *wiggles eyebrows* “taking care of our future children”

“learn how to control your own brat at home read jisung first and THEN we can talk, jaemama”

jaemin can’t believe this low blow, how could you after everything he’s done: cooking for you, taking you on bike rides even though he was the one who wanted to, even buying pads!!! or even worse!!!!! STRAWBERRY YOGHURT!!!!!! ∑(ﾟ台ﾟlll

he’s still pouty as you all put on an animation and snuggle a blanket

but then!!!! you fall asleep with the little boy in your embrace

and jaemin!!!!! just!!! CAN’T!!! stay mad!!!!!! cause you’re both just SO absolutely irrevocably CUTE!!!!!! ♡( ૢ⁼̴̤̆ ꇴ ⁼̴̤̆ ૢ)~ෆ♡

so he just HAS TO lay a *meaningful* smooch on your forehead as he sleepily moves closer to you both, one arm wrapping loosely around you while the other caresses the child’s head, lulling the both of them to sleep his protecc instincts kicked in y’all

Zhong Chenle

he has already expressed his wish to have a family someday since he wants to live the same happiness his brother does with his own family

which i think is ABSOLUTELY PRECIOUS

and we all know he’s WHIPPED for his nephew ˞♡ฅ(ᐤˊ꒳ฅˋᐤ)

but unfortunately

that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s good with children yet

let me give you a context over here

so he’s left alone for a short while with his baby nephew which shouldn’t be too bad since technically chenle is an adult at least legally okay??

and right things are all good until BABY STARTS TO CRY i’m talking about the actual baby here although chenle might cry too at this point

and chenle just PANICS when he realises that just shushing won’t work and whacking a hand over his mouth *cough* like he does to jisung *cough* isn’t an option (╬⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾ Д ⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾)

but thankfully, you’re there!!!!!!

“may i?” you ask chenle as you stretch out your arms in his direction

chenle has never passed over anything faster in his entire life џ(ºДºџ)

so when you coddle the baby in your arms and just gently bounce him a little he just settles down so cutely and most important QUIETLY as he stares up at you with curious eyes, small fingers curling up around a necklace swung around your neck or just the fabric of your shirt

chenle is all like (๑•́o•̀๑)!!

HOW DID YOU JUST DO THAT!!!!

and he watches with eyes even more curious than his nephew’s eyes as the baby slowly dozes off peacefully in your arms (꒡ ω ꒡ )zzz

it just hits him just how natural the scene looks

he approaches carefully once he’s sure his nephew fell asleep and lays a gentle hand on your head as he peers down at the cute chubby baby face

“you’re a life saver, how did you even manage to do that?” ◎ܫ◎

“you know, i have to take care of you all the time so-”

he flicks your forehead faster than you can finish that sentence

way to ruin a moment (oT-T)

but *SIKEEE* the baby fusses a little as soon as you frown and chenle immediately freaks out

he showers the spot on your forehead with kisses and his nephew settles down once again as you smile at him proudly ໒( ͡ᵔ ▾ ͡ᵔ )७

chenle rolls his eyes as if he doesn’t wish for this scene to become familiar to him sometime in the future

Park Jisung

this chick is still a baby who barely hatched

so he’s still in CONSTANT WONDER of the world ༼ つ ◕o◕ ༽つ

and in this episode of ‘jisung the explorer’ he’s discovering... ACTUAL babies

so you were on a date at the local mall when you met with a family friend of your mom’s who was struggling with her fussy baby girl in a carrier while trying to shop for some baby products

so you offer to watch over the girl until her mom finishes up (•́⌄•́๑)૭✧

but just as you’re about to attach the baby carrier to yourself, an old woman asks for directions around the shop

so you pass the baby to jisung for literally a minute to show the lady the way └(>ω<。)┐

and jisung is HIGHKEY PANICKED

he holds the baby by the underarms at arms length and obviously she doesn’t enjoy that and just starts wailing in the middle of the shop

and people just... stare (,Ծ_Ծ,)

and jisung is all like ‘IT’S NOT MINE!!!!! AND I’M NOT STEALING OR MISTREATING IT EITHER!!!!!!’

the moment you’re back in his sight, he’s THRUSTING that tiny loud bald creature in your arms it’s a child jisung ║ * ರ Ĺ̯ ರ * ║

and he expects for you to panic too but right away

the baby quietens down as you cuddle her close to your chest and coo softly in a hushed baby voice

and she plays with your shirt while you glare at your boyfriend (눈_눈)

“y/n, you sorcerer, how did you just shut it off?”

“i didn’t ‘shut it off’, she’s a baby not a tape recorder”

“oh REALLY, i couldn’t tell the difference for a moment there”

you just might consider returning jisung and keeping the baby（ ಠωಠ）

he watches in wonder as you entertain the baby for the next few minutes until her mother comes back

and he swears his heart skips a beat when he sees your smile widen with tenderness once you get a small giggle out of the baby (*ฅ́˘ฅ̀*)

he supposes maybe she isn’t so bad since she makes you so happy

even though she was louder than even chenle which is an accomplishment at this point

and when jisung notices your slight pout once you gave the baby back and parted ways he makes sure to shower your face in kisses until you regain the same smile that made him fall so deep in love with you

[poodlejoonas]

Dad!BC AU - the moms

So wow-ihateithere and I (because for some reason Tumblr won’t let me directly @ you) have been tossing out so many amazing ideas for the BC dad AU lately that we’ve thought of pretty much every scenario under the sun. One idea I’d like to throw in here is the group that is the moms who make up their own personal wolfpack. Since they’ll be brought in as stand-alone characters soon, it would be better to have a basic introduction for each and how they know/interact with each other.

(Under the read-more for length)

Joel - Emilia (”Millie”) Hokka - The absolute baddest bitch you will meet on this planet. She's a 5′1″ sweetheart, but if you lay a single finger on her kid, her husband, her BC brothers and sisters, or any of her nieces and nephews, she will become the human embodiment of that one line from “Wolfpack.” You know the one. She’s gone viral before for Joel needing to hold her back from fighting the mom of a kid who’s bullying Enkka at school, and literally watching this tiny woman become a human hurricane at the drop of a hat was enough for this kid to immediately leave him alone. From then on, kids at school know not to come after Viktor Hokka because his mom doesn’t play around. Why would she? After all, she dedicated 18 months of her life to trying to become a mom, and anyone who dares to come after her baby needs a running start to get away from her.

Sometimes even Joel has to hold her back from doing something she probably should regret but wouldn’t if it involved her family. He knows better than to cross a line with her. Then there are other times when they work together to be the shadiest power couple on earth, like when Aleksi’s ex-girlfriend Laila slanders him in the media for talking about taking custody of their son from her. If Joel comes home pissed about something, she’s the first one to jump on board with whatever plan he has to get his point across. She would totally have a stan account on Instagram dedicated to her called “milliehokkasupremacy”. And Joel loves his wife so much that he would eat every bit of this shit up. When she tells someone off, he writes down what she says and turns it into the lyrics of Blind Channel’s next single.

In short, Millie Hokka is 100 percent That Bitch™.

Bonus bit because this idea made me laugh: (in the comments section of a post slandering BC) @milliehokka: Bitch you better take this shit down before I puncture your fucking tires @joelhokka: She's my better half ❤️

Joonas - Kirsten Porko - Kirsten’s one of the quiet BC moms, and a hell of a lot more tame than Millie. But she has her shining moments every now and then, like when she was wondering why Millie took Joel with her knowing that she could’ve easily beaten that bully’s mom’s ass without him. She has the patience of a saint, being married to Joonas and raising two (soon to be three) kids with him. But she adores every minute of their chaotic little family. Since Sohvi was the first of the BC kids, the guys were quick to show up in support of her and Joonas. She was also pretty lonely until the others started dating their wives, and she was more than happy to have more friends to bond with.

She does the most to mother the rest of the kids when they need it. They love to come to their house because Kirsten will have a fresh pan of cookies ready for them. They also like hanging out with Joonas, but Kirsten is a fun aunt on her own. She’s typically the first to show up when one of the other moms tosses out a cry for help in taking care of their kids, especially when they’re newborns and the guys are away on tour. Kirsten’s total aesthetic is the absolute opposite of Joonas’s: she’s bubbly and wears nothing but pastel dresses and soft fabrics. A lot of people wonder what a “nice girl” like her is doing with a punk rocker like Joonas, until you see them interact and know that they’re crazy in love with each other and their kids. She’s the unassuming type, but she loves pranks as much as her husband and kids; she’ll play along whenever there’s a really good one and sometimes she can totally outdo them.

Niko - Jenna Moilanen - Jenna is Millie’s co-conspirator and partner-in-crime. If Millie needs someone to back her up and Joel’s trying to talk her out of whatever she’s thinking about doing, Jenna is the first to show up on the scene. She’s very much Niko’s type - she has just as many tattoos as him, several piercings, and hair that changes color depending on her mood. She’s naturally a blonde but you almost never see her as one. A lot of people tend to pass judgement on her abilities as a mom based on her appearance, but both of her and Niko’s kids adore her (especially their daughter Lahja) and they grow up happy with their loving parents. She’s a fantastic cook and works as a head chef at a five-star steakhouse, and she’s always willing to come home and cook for her family as well. She and Millie are the two shortest of the group, and it’s hilarious because they are both absolute spitfires.

Jenna has the best intuition when it comes to deciding who is trustworthy and who isn’t. There’s no “leader” in the group, but most of the others trust Jenna when someone gives her a bad feeling. She would be the one to raise the alarm on Laila years before she and Aleksi ever break up, and Laila would find the absolute worst way to end up on Jenna’s shit list. In her time with the group, Laila does nothing to help take care of the rest of the kids or try to fit in with the group. One day, when Leevi cries because he needs something, Jenna spots an annoyed expression out of the corner of her eye coming from Laila. It takes an intervention from God to stop Jenna from ripping her apart on the scene. The most important thing to note about Jenna: she calls her closest friends “bitch” affectionately. The moment it stops being affectionate, there’s no turning back.

Olli - Kaarina Matela - The quietest and calmest of the BC moms. She perfectly matches her husband’s energies, which is why they parent their daughters so well. She was definitely more calm than him on the day they learned they were having twins, and still is to this day. When he was panicking about their pregnancy scare, she was still managing to stay collected somehow (but just as relieved as he was). She’s very much like a suburban soccer mom type, but far from being a Karen because she’s aggressively kind to everyone around her, including hardworking people. And Olli just adores her so much, sometimes he doubts if he even deserves her. She’s always the first to remind him that there’s no one else she would rather be with.

Kaarina is the arts and crafts kind of aunt. During the summer, she likes to have the kids come over for day camp style hangout sessions where they mix in time outside with craft activities. She’s the reason why Olli’s stage outfits have been so cool lately, because she’s got a perfect eye for colors and is super skilled at hand-stitching patches. If the kids need anything repaired, they’ll know to go to Aunt Rina first because she’ll either make it as good as new, or turn it into some sick artwork. All the moms get along but she and Kirsten vibe together the best. They get together and plan the summer activities for the kids, which involve Rina planning the crafts and Kirsten baking for, and with, them.

Tommi - Marja Lalli - Marja is unique in her position as a BC mom because she joined the group when her son Miikka from a previous relationship was already almost 4. For a brief time, she was worried about herself and Miikka feeling left out of the group dynamic that was already there, but they were so quick to invite her in as one of them. A lot of it had to do with her being friends with Jenna since elementary school, and Jenna knew that the sisterhood would be more than happy to accept her. She and Niko help set her up with Tommi because they both know he would love her and accept Miikka as his own. She’s chill and reserved, but she’s still a ton of fun to be around. Along with Kaarina and Kirsten, she’s one of the level-headed moms and is typically the voice of reason for a lot of things (especially when it comes to trying to contain Millie and Jenna’s tempers).

The rest of the moms were thrilled when she told them she was pregnant with Anna, but constantly concerned and fretting over her when she was on occasional bed rest. If Tommi couldn’t be with her, it was one of them coming over to help take care of her and Miikka. Marja’s health showed the caring side of the sisterhood of the BC moms, how they are willing to take care of each other in sickness as well as celebrating the good times and defending each other from drama. Even months after Anna is born, they still come over from time to time to see if there’s any way they can help.

Aleksi - Laila Pekkanen (later on, marries Hanna Kaunisvesi) - So this one is a bit complicated. For about three years, Aleksi was in a high-profile relationship with Laila Pekkanen, a producer who worked with him on a solo single before joining BC. They meet again a couple years later and begin a relationship that last for about three years. But it was far from loving, as they were just in general not good for each other. A few weeks after their break-up, Laila calls Aleksi while he’s in the studio to break the news to him that she’s pregnant, which sends Aleksi into total emotional turmoil because he thought they were being careful. Of all the guys, he’s the most careful with avoiding this kind of thing, but it was her who missed one too many days of her birth control. They’re barely on speaking terms, but they agree to try to stay cordial until Aleksi can take full custody of the child himself. She admits to having no maternal instinct and wants nothing to do with the baby.

Here’s where it gets messy. Aleksi finally decides to break his silence on the matter and announces via Instagram that he will be a father and raise his son on his own. He does his best to tell his side of the story without dragging Laila down. But she takes it personally and goes on the radio to try to attack Aleksi, feeling like she’s being treated like a villain and a bad person for giving up her child. She feels like she’s being “exposed” in thinking that Aleksi publicly acknowledging their son’s existence would ruin her career, because she’d been trying everything possible to cover it up. It becomes a major feud between her and her team, and Aleksi and the BC team, but more industry people can back him up as a stand-up guy than they can come to her defense. She nearly ends up having Noah prematurely, and yet Aleksi still shows up in support, more so for their son than for her. When Noah is born months later, she refuses to hold him and immediately cuts off all contact with Aleksi. 

Aleksi raises Noah alone and learns to support his son when he’s later diagnosed on the autism spectrum. Noah is semi-verbal and partially communicates with sign language. He uses sign in situations when he meets a stranger, and Aleksi respects his intuition when someone makes him uncomfortable. Noah has separation anxiety from losing his mom at a young age, so Aleksi refuses to date for years because he doesn’t want to bring a revolving door of strangers around him. But then he meets Hanna, who makes an almost instant connection with him. He’s hesitant to make a decision about a long-term relationship with her until he sees how well she works with Noah. She’s one of the first people he opens up to - mostly because of her experience as a child psychologist - but the moment that seals the deal is when Noah calls her “mom” for the first time (in sign to his cousins). Fans and people he works with can’t help but notice that Aleksi is so much happier with Hanna than Laila. And as much as he would like to have a baby with her, he’s happy having Noah and wants to invest his energy into ensuring his happiness. But Hanna understands, because she’s an angel and only wants the best for her family.

[peach-the-owl]

How about a scenario with each of the M9 where the child calls them Mom or Dad.

Yes… just yes 😊

You call them Mom/Dad

Child of the Nein (Mighty Nein & Child!Reader)

Jester

You and Jester were shopping and causing some mischief around Zadash, nothing crazy of course. Something caught the corner of your eye, a doll dressed up like a warrior was sitting proud in the window display of a toy shop making your eyes sparkle with excitment. You run over to Jester and tug at her dress while bouncing in you feet.

"Mommy! Mommy look! Can I get that doll please?" You say without a second thought, pointing towards the shop. Jester looks at you astonished for a moment, this was the first time you’d called her mom. You give her a confused look when she doesn’t respond right away and watch her press her hands together as if she were about to pray and a large smile stretch across her face.

"You think of me as your momma?" Despite the smile Jester sounded like she was about to cry. You tilt your head to the side confused, had you said something wrong?

"I’m sorry, should I not-"

"No no, don’t be sorry." Jester quickly cuts you off. "I’ll happily be you momma!" She picks you up and places a few kisses on your cheek and forehead before placing you back down and taking your hands in hers. "Now let’s go get you that doll." With that you both practically skip over to the toy store. You were really glad you got to meet Jester, she was everything you wanted in a mom, especially compared to your old caretaker, whatever happened to them? You didn’t know and you didn’t care anymore because now you had someone who actually loved and cared about you.

Nott

You’d accidentally called mom once before but Nott had easily accepted the roll, having already seen you as her own child. Afterwards it came a little easier to refer to her as such but only when you’re in towns or cities on a small break between adventures. It was kinda funny in a way how it was easy to call her mom in such domestic places but once you were on the road again you'd go back to calling her by name. Nott didn’t mind of course, adventures were intense with little time to think about names and/or titles so it wasn’t much of a surprise that you would do this.

Caleb

Caleb has always tried to distance himself from others, scared to let people into the shell that is his life and yet you had still managed to find a way in. At first he’d brush it all off finding an excuse for why you were just tagging along with him, but over the years he began to warm up to you, seeing as you were his only loyal company besides Frumpkin before you’d met the rest of the Nein.

"Hey, Caleb?" Your little voice pulls him away from his daydreaming. "I want to show you something, I’ve been practicing really hard." He shifts a bit so his full attention is on you. You take a deep breath and pull a cocoon from your bag, Caleb’s taught you a lot now it was time to put it to the test. There’s a slight glow and flash Caleb watches as you body shifts and turns into the form of a cat, your cat form pads over to him and hops up for a closer look. With a quick gesture of his hands the spell wears off and you quickly change back to yourself, you stare up at him with a large smile as he gives you a proud look.

"If that was your first time successfully casting Polymorph you did wonderfully, I’m proud of you." He kneels down and places a hand on your shoulder, a small smile placed on his features.

"Thanks!" You beam at him, giggling a little. "But that’s because I’ve got you as my teacher papa." The word sorta slipped out without your knowledge, effectively shocking him. You happily skip off to tell everyone what you just accomplished, leaving Caleb still kneeling down in deep thought.

You’d called him papa, you saw him as a father figure, someone to look up to and depend on. You looked at him the opposite of how he saw himself, and had done so without a second thought or regret. "I don’t deserve this." He mutters to himself as he watches you skip over to Jester and Nott to tell them of your accomplishments.

Caduceus

You let out a huff, confused and conflicted on what your thoughts were doing, was this supposed to be a good thing or a bad one. Caduceus walks into the little inn room seeing you huff around a little.

"You alright? You’ve been huffing around a lot." He stares at you concerned. You look up at him and he could now see the slight gloss that glazed over your eyes, he kneels down and you instinctively walk into his waiting arms. "Would you like to talk about it?" He asks calmly, you nod after a moment.

"It’s been so long since the last time I saw my family and…" You hold back a small sob, "and I can’t remember what they look like anymore. Is that bad? I’m I a bad kid for forgetting my own family?" A few tears spill over but Caduceus catches them.

"Tell me, do you still know their names?" You nod your head. "Can you still remember the lessons they taught you, or maybe the games they played with you?" Again you nod. "Then you haven’t forgotten them, so long as you still have memories with them you haven’t forgotten them. You’re not a bad kid, far from it."

"Thank you papa." You pause, having caught your own words and look up at Caduceus. He looks surprised at first, but that quickly turns to a gentle smile and he places a soft kiss to the top of your head. You didn’t think much on it before but you had to admit every time you tried to picture your father in your head all you could see was Caduceus, and honestly that wasn’t so bad.

Fjord

Being back in Port Damali always left a nice yet uncomfortable feeling to you, it was where you were raised with the beautiful open sea but the conditions you were raised in weren’t exactly ideal. Which is why you were always greatful when Fjord had agreed to take you with him all that time ago. You find yourself walking along the beach, old habits die hard I guess, not that you minded. You hear someone come walking up from behind and look over at Fjord as he approches.

"Brings back memories doesn’t it." He says, taking a seat on the sand, you join him.

"Yeah, it felt like so long ago… time's weird when adventuring." This earns you a chuckle.

"It sure can be. You know we could recreate that scenario, I could pretend to be unconscious and you aggressively poke me with a stick." He jokes, now getting a chuckle out of you.

"That’s stupid," you playfully push his shoulder. "Don’t be ridiculous dad." You quickly place a hand over your mouth once you’d caught what you just said. Slowly you turn to look at Fjord who’s staring right back, a look of astonishment on his face.

"Did you just call me dad?" You didn’t notice the smile that started to form on his face.

"I’m sorry, I just sorta slipped out, I didn’t mean t-"

"You see me as your father?" He cuts you off a bit, his voice filled with joy. You turn to face him again, seeing him giving you such a caring and joyful smile.

"Well, yeah… I-I guess. You were the first person who treated me so nicely and you took me along with you, it just… felt right to say." You admit a little sheepishly.

"Then by all means, don’t let me stop you." Fjord then pulls you closer to him and stands up with you in his arms, as he places a gentle kiss to you temple. You were glad you had decided to take that beach walk all that time ago, meeting Fjord was by far the best thing to ever happen to you. As for Fjord he was happy to give you something he never had as a child, a father to look up to and depend on.

Beau

Another day another training session, kicks and punches being thrown every which way, thankfully you had the stamina to keep up with Beau. It could be a little tiring but it was necessary to keep your reflexes sharp, then you get punched in the jaw, not too hard that it'd break but enough to leave a bruise later.

"Don’t go drifting off into Lala land. Keep your eyes on the enemy or else that’s going to happen again." You give her a thumbs up and make sure you dodge the next attack she throws at you. When your training is finally over you take a seat and rub at your jaw a bit, feeling where the bruise was forming. "Here, this’ll help." Beau sits down next to you and hands you a healing potion and a cup of water.

"Thanks mom." You say nonchalantly.

"What did you just call me?" Beau asks in surprise. It takes you a second to actually register what you just said, you go stiff when realization sets in.

"Ummm, n-nothing I just said thanks." You look away to try and hide your embarrassment.

"I’m falling for that (y/n). Do you seriously see me as a mother or something?" Beau asks, genuinely curious to your responce. You let out a sigh.

"Yeah, kinda." You finally admit. "It’s just that even though I know you don’t care much for stuff like this, you treat me better then my real parents ever have… guess I just started projecting a little." You scratch at the back of your head and look away from her a little, feeling embarrassed to finally admit to all this. Beau places an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closer to her side.

"I’ve never claimed to be good at this, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I like you kid, you got a good spirit to you. So if you want to see me as a sort of mother figure then sure I’ll take it, and if your parents somehow found out and don’t like it that’s just too bad for them." She puts on a goofy smile and ruffles at your hair, making you relax and laugh a little at her antics.

Yasha

One of the few things you liked when it was just you and Yasha traveling alone was the number of flower fields you managed to come across, Yasha’s love and collection of flowers had passed over to you. You spend hours looking through the wildflowers until you found a good handful of them that you and Yasha would then braid into each other’s hair (if your hair is long enough), or sometimes you’d just roll around in the grass. It wasn’t much but these little moments were nice temporary distractions from the troubles that weighed you both down. After putting in the last flower to Yasha’s braid she stands and looks at you.

"How do I look?"

"You look like and angel mama." She body stiffens and her breath hitches a little at your words.

"You-you called me mama." Hearing her say it out loud made you realize your mistake.

"I’m sorry, it just slipped out." You apologize, now feeling bad for the slip of your tounge.

"No, i-it’s ok. Just surprising." She kneels down and gently pulls you in for a hug which you return. "You know…" Yasha starts but let’s her words drift a bit before continuing. "Zuala and I had always wanted a child."

"You have?" You look up at her with big, curious eyes at the mention of her deceased wife.

"Yeah… and I always thought if we did, they would be a lot like you." You smile and cuddle into her more as she tightens her grip on you a bit, as if the second she lets go you’d disappear from her. You stayed like that in the field for who knows how long, just savouring each others presents.

Molly

Taverns, where you can get all the latest gossip, at least decent meals and loads of entertainment from drunken idiots thinking they're some big hotshot, and music one can never forget the music. Taverns were also a place where sketchy individuals would prey on poor unsuspecting souls, which is why you were always super careful and alert to the people you would interact with. Some said sketchy individuals had just asked you "innocently" to join them and see something cool in the alleyway, you had to hold back a laugh at these armatures, did they really think you for an idiot just because you were young? Well that wasn’t going to stop you from having a little fun of your own.

"Before we go, I should really ask if it’s ok." You say faking your own innocence, except yours was much more convincing as you make your way over to the bar where Molly was flirting with one of the locals. You tug on his coat to get his attention, he gives you a quick side glance. "Hey papa," now you had his full attention as he whips around to look at you with a shocked expression. "Those men over there say they want to show me something cool in the alleyway, can I go?" You ask still playing your little game as you point to the now nervous men. It still took Molly a second to register your words but once it clicked into his head what was happening he gives you a sly smile.

"No no, you stay here while your papa has a chat with them." He say loud enough for the men to hear, he stands and the men dash out of the tavern. "Armatures." He mutters, sitting down again.

"Aww, are they really your child? They’re such a cutie." The woman Molly had been talking to coos at you. You give her a smile.

"Well it was-"

"Yes they are." Molly cuts you off, picking you up and placing you on his lap. You look at him a little confused and he pokes your nose, then he goes off making up a story of how he found you and took you into his care. You playfully roll your eyes at his tall tale that the woman and now a few others were eating up unaware of all the contradictions in the story. Behind all the exaggerations and using you as a chick magnet there was genuine affection Molly had towards you, a part of him liking the thought of you being his kid, even if it wasn’t by blood.

[cupcakemolotov]

Road to Ruin

I... have no idea where this came from. But hey, I’ll take almost 2K of story after a drought of words. SFW, character death, probably some angst. You can read it here on A03 if you prefer.

                                                            -

Caroline had missed the Memorial Service.

Finals at NYU had been brutal, her schedule packed and tangled tightly together after a truly unfair back to back testing schedule. She’d wanted nothing more than to climb into her lumpy dorm bed and sleep for a week, but she’d promised Bonnie she’d try to make it.

She hadn’t.

But that was the fault of May storms and erratic flight schedules, not her personal choice. By the time her mom picked her up in Richmond, five hours late and dragging with exhaustion no number of espresso shots could perk up, it was dark and raining. She’d fallen asleep in the car, dragged herself into the house, and had just enough energy to change before diving into her bed for the sleep she’d been missing for what felt like weeks.

Elena was dead.

The news had come five days before finals, and after sobbing her eyes out on her RA’s shoulder, she’d pulled herself together and buried herself in all night study sessions and endless equations. But the knowledge had lingered, that this friend of hers who had grown so distant the last year, more distant than any amount of school schedules and new friends could allow for when Caroline was a devout texter, was gone. She’d cried in the shower, for the girl who she’d once known and would never know again.

Shifting her weight on the damp grass, Caroline studied the freshly dug grave. The last few years before graduation hadn’t been good for their friendship, High School having been a roller coaster of drama and boys that was expected, she supposed. But if only that had been the only drama, she was certain they wouldn't have grown so far away from each other. There had been that weird mass grave that someone had found that had kept her mom busy for months dealing with the locals and the FBI, the weird way the old boarding house had been repaired seemingly to open up only to remain empty. Those strangers who her mom had not liked who had asked questions about a couple of weird gravestones in the museum. That series of petty thefts that had kept her mom even busier than the mass grave and its collection of weird historians and FBI investigations, that had finally culminated in some family heirlooms being stolen from the Lockwoods.

Tyler had bitched for months about it. Weirdly, it had been those complaints that had been the deciding factor that had her breaking up with him. Yeah, the sex had been good, but a girl did not need pillow talk about family heirlooms and how upset his mom had been. Any boyfriend worth their salt (and teenage hormones) should have been far too distracted by her being naked right there, not their moms.

She shuddered a little, thinking about it.

The second half of their junior year had been a mess, and been made worse when Aunt Jenna had died. Caroline’s fingers tightened on the bouquet she was holding, thinking of all the deaths that had accumulated that year. Aunt Jenna. Her Dad. Carol Lockwood. How terrified she had been that her mom would end up next, logical or not.

Then there had been the way Elena had gone all weirdly obsessed with finding her biological parents, the way it had driven her as if it was something outside of herself she couldn't control. Caroline studied the tops of the flowers she held in her hand, wondering if not for the first time if she could have done something different. Been a better friend, helped Elena in some way. Those long weeks that first Christmas when Elena had decided to spend it alone, how she had refused to answer a single text message until she’d shown back up at school, dark circles under eyes like an underfed anemic.

She’d been… different, after that. Less boy crazy and more… mature. And that summer, she’d gone to meet a family claiming to be hers. And when she’d come home, she’d been so happy. Bouncing, sparkling happy. Cousins, she’d said. Brother’s and a sister who said that her mother had been theirs and they’d been looking for her.

Family.

That was what Caroline wanted to remember her. The girl who sat with her for hours after Bill died, both of them quiet, legs tangled on Caroline’s bed. The girl who liked board games and pink lipstick and who had terrible taste in shoes. Her friend. Not the girl from their Senior year who had slowly become something else entirely. Pale and wane, short tempered and then so, so quiet. The girl whose new family moved into Mansion at the edge of town that had been empty for decades, who paid for an expensive car and clothes and who never came to a single game to watch her cheer.

Letting out a slow breath, she set the flowers she’d brought down on the grave and chewed on her lower lip. People usually said things at graves, didn’t they? But she’d never been good at that sort of thing. Not at her Dad’s grave, and not here, standing over the bones of her friend. She’d brought daisy’s because Elena liked them, and she briefly closed her eyes, hoping that Elena knew she was here, that she missed her, and that even if she reached the old age of one hundred, she’d remember the night she and Elena and Bonnie had laughed until they cried over the most ridiculous of conversations, until they’d had to scramble to pretend they’d been sleeping when her mom came home at dawn after her shift.

That would be the Elena she’d take with her.

Swallowing hard, she turned on one heel and jerked to a stop, heart slamming into her throat as she found a man she didn’t recognize lingering far too close to her. He was only a few inches taller than her, but something about the utter stillness of his posture, the way she hadn’t heard him walk up behind her, her usual excellent sense of people taught by her mother and perfected in the subway system having failed to ping at her, left her breathless with surprise. For a moment, Caroline struggled to get her pulse under control before narrowing her eyes. “Excuse you, creepy much? Most people have the decency not to loom in graveyards.”

A sudden hint of a smile played across a distractingly full mouth, and he reached up and pushed his sunglasses up into his rumpled curls, something about the way he was looking at her sending the faintest hint of alarm down her spine. “Spend a lot of time in graveyards?”

“That is none of your business,” Caroline said, letting her voice frost over in disapproval.

“Apologies, love.” He said, body shifting from that hair raising awareness to a soft charm she might have liked if she hadn’t seen him looking at her like she was a particularly interesting bug. “I didn't recall seeing you at the funeral, and I’m sure I would have remembered you.”

Something about him, the way his eyes never left hers, put her back up. She hadn’t spent the last two years in New York City to let some weirdo stranger intimidate her now. “I don’t recognize you at all,” she said primly. “So that means you were fairly new to Elena’s life. Do you make a habit of memorizing faces at funerals? That seems like the sort of thing that would alarm a psychologist.”

The curve of his mouth deepened, and to her despair, he had dimples. “You must be Caroline Forbes. Ms. Bennett was disappointed that you missed the service.”

Caroline shrugged, stubbornly holding his gaze though it was starting to bother her that he didn’t blink. “May storms are a bitch. And neither Bonnie nor Elena mentioned anyone who would match your description.”

He looked intrigued. “Do you usually ask for physical descriptions of their acquaintances?”

“And pictures of their drivers licenses,” she retorted. “So that if they go missing, I know where to direct my mother to find them, but you're definitely not either of their types, and since you think you have some claim on Elena, that must mean you belong to the Mikaelson family. Which one are you?”

She didn't do much to hide what she thought of his family, and it didn’t seem to bother him.

“Smart,” he murmured. “I’m Klaus.” And then he offered her his hand, something like a challenge lingering at the back of his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Caroline.”

It was a dare. And she was terrible at turning those down, even as her instincts warned her that there was something about this man she wasn’t seeing. But she was also standing twenty feet away from a number of her own dead relatives, and Grandma Forbes would haunt her forever if she was rude to this man in front of her. Baring her teeth in something like a smile, she took his hand. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

Laughter had lit his eyes a half moment before their skin touched, and something she couldn’t describe rolled down her spine. More sensation than feeling, she felt it down to her feet, and it left her pulse pounding. She pulled her hand back, too quick to be polite, but she didn’t care as she stared at the man who had gone still and so quietly dangerous, she was debating reaching for the pepper stray attached to her keys.

She could probably get it out and in his face before he lunged.

Maybe.

Klaus’ fingers had curled into his palm, as if he too had felt whatever that had been, and the blue of his eyes were doing something strange, and Caroline became intensely aware of everything around them. The buzz of summer insects, the shape of his stupidly plush mouth, the smell of fresh turned dirt. It was the near silent buzz of an incoming text that broke the staring contest between them. Senses hyper-alert, she pulled her phone out of her purse and saw that she had two missed calls from Bonnie. Glancing up from her lashes to find that Klaus hadn’t looked away, so she pasted on her best false smile and shrugged.

“Well, Klaus, I’m sure this is where I should say something polite about seeing you around, but that seems super unlikely,” Caroline said with a false shrug of disappointment. “So, I’ll just say bye instead.”

A lowering of his lashes, something behind his eyes that burned her skin. “Hmm, I suppose we’ll see, won’t we? The family has decided to stick around a bit longer, give ourselves time to mourn. You may be surprised how much you’ll see us.”

Caroline snorted and stepped around him. “History of your family’s willingness to grace the town with your presence says otherwise.” But because her grandma had raised her right, and was probably seriously judging her only granddaughter from the plot just a few feet away, she smiled and waved, just like her pageant days had taught her. And only when she was almost to her car, did she relax enough to look at her text.

And felt her heart drop to her toes.

I don’t think Elena is dead.

Brows tucking tightly together, she went through the motions of unlocking the car door, glancing back towards the man lingering in the graveyard. Klaus hadn't moved, except to slid his hands into his pockets and to turn to watch her. She could still feel the imprint of his fingers against hers, the heat and calluses of him, the shock of him down her spine. For a moment, she tried to remember what Elena had told her about her biological family, the people who went through all the right motions but never showed her friend the care she deserved. The brother’s who had been so considerate, and offered her anything money could buy but not a single ounce of affection. Lifting her chin, she narrowed her eyes, even though she knew he couldn't see her.

Let him think what he wanted. She was fairly certain she’d never see him again. Klaus, who stood in graveyards in pressed slacks and rosaries around his throat. Something was going on there, and the last thing she needed was for him to turn out to be some kind of serial killer.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, she started the engine and set her teeth, only then allowing herself to really absorb what Bonnie had sent her. Not dead? What was Bonnie thinking? And if she was right, why would the Mikaelson’s lie?

Why bury Elena, fake or otherwise, with the ghosts if she wasn’t really dead?

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 46

Title: Not Broken, Just Bent

Warnings: mention of suicidal thoughts, profanity, angst

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip, @miss-smutty​

“I appreciate this,” Tyler says, as he and Desi work side by side in the front foyer; assisting the three littles with the zippers on their coats and the laces on their boots.

He’d called the neighbour on a whim; desperate for even the smallest bit of help. He’s never been one to just reach out to others; long drilled into him that only a pathetic and weak man needs a helping hand. But if the first nightmare in Dhaka had taught him anything, it’s that even the biggest and strongest need someone to lean on from time to time; his body and his spirit so broken that he’d required assistance with even the most basic and simplest of everyday living skills. Esme stepping up to the plate and never once complaining about the energy it depleted her of or the time it took out of her own schedule; never making him feel as if he were a burden. Accompanying -and chauffeuring, as both his physical limitations and pain medications made it impossible for him to function to that extent- him to doctors visits and physiotherapy sessions and counselling appointments with addiction specialists. Always wanting her right there with him even when the most difficult of subjects were broached or intense physical exercises caused excruciating pain. Her quiet presence and all of the patience and resilience inhabiting that tiny body both a source of strength and a tremendous comfort. Accompanied by the tender touch of her hands as they massaged his shoulders or rubbed his back or her fingertips cleared wayward strands of hair from his forehead and out of his eyes. Voice soft and soothing even during the moments where frustration and pain had him raging; a palm on the back of his neck and her nose pressed against his temple as she encouraged him to ‘just breathe’ and reminded him of how far he’d already come and how he was proving all of the doctors and the naysayers wrong.

Six years later she’d find herself back in that situation again; his babies growing and thriving inside her as she once more took on the role of his caretaker. Having to lend assistance with even the mundane things most people take for granted; helping him to the bathroom when the pain was too intense to make it even when the aid of crutches or a walker, keeping a well organized and attentively followed medication schedule, feeding him when the tremors in his hands -a side effect of the meds- made it impossible for him to even hold a fork or spoon. Giving him showers or sponge baths or washing his hair in the kitchen sink and trimming both his hair and his beard. And she’d willingly learned more intensive care as well; wound irrigation and cleaning and how to switch out the IV and medication bags when an infection in the lower back had forced him onto powerful antibiotics. She’d been overwhelmed and exhausted but had never shown it; never losing her patience or her temper with him and never reacting when his own -triggered by pain and frustration and vulnerability- kicked off.

Months of her constant presence, reassurance and steadfast care had opened his eyes to who his wife TRULY is; an incredibly strong and resilient woman that has been through hell and back -a number of times- but never lets the situation break her. Always positive and upbeat; gracing him with smiles or ruffles of his hair or kisses to his cheek and words of praise and encouragement. It had given him a new appreciation and respect for her; how easy she made it look while caring for him and keeping a home running and taking care of his children. Even now he remains in awe of her; the amount of determination and love that can exist in someone so small. And if it taught them both anything, it’s that they truly ARE a team; relying on one another in many different ways. What could have destroyed other couples only served to make them stronger. That foundation built upon a unique and powerful bond and formed through a complicated and dangerous situation never crumbling; holding them up with everything around them seemed to want to break them down. Everything became more solid; their marriage, their roles are parents, their friendship. And they’ve discovered they loved each other even more than they ever realized; a love so complete and whole and all consuming.

Now it’s his turn; shove all of his issues and his demons and monsters aside to take care of her. It’s the one thing he’s always been both good at, and consistent with; shelving all of his problems in order to focus on hers. It’s two fold. A chance to show her just how loved and appreciated and adored she actually is; a way of proving just how grateful he is for everything she’s done -for him AND their family- throughout the past twelve and a half years. And it keeps both his body and his mind busy; making her his number priority an effective way to battle back against his demons. But He realizes he can’t do it alone; the old adage of ‘it takes a village’ proving true. Seven kids in the house means a lot of noise and a lot of activity. Not the ideal setting and atmosphere for someone that is both mentally AND physically exhausted.

While Desi had been the obvious choice on who to seek out, it had taken Tyler nearly a half an hour to convince himself to make the call; feeling guilty for yet again turning to their neighbour to lend a hand. It’s primarily an ego issue; feeling like ‘less of a man’ for not only needing help, but outwardly admitting it and lowering his guard enough to ask for it. Esme would blame it on the toxic masculinity that still lingers deep inside; the ghost of his father telling him he should be dealing everything on his own and that not being able to is a sign of both cowardice and weakness. It remains a struggle at times; breaking away from that train of thought and reminding himself that everything his old man had taught him -or attempted to- had been unhealthy and toxic and nothing but complete bullshit. And Desi is like family; always stepping up when either of them have needed him. A loyal confidant and steadfast supporter, he’d easily and effortlessly blended with large broods; enjoying the time spent under their crazy and chaotic roof and giving the kids the kind of uncle they deserve. And while it normally takes Tyler months or even years to trust someone when it comes to his personal life and the safety and the well being of his family, with Desi it has come fairly easily. That laid back and enormously generous personality and the gentle and compassionate way he treats Esme and the kids had triggered Tyler’s instincts. Letting him know that the man was trustworthy and reliable and in no way a threat.

“Anytime,” Desi says, as he finishes with the laces on Takota’s boots and turns to help Brooklyn, allowing her to attempt the tying and only stepping in which she gets frustrated and gives up. “You know I’m here for you guys. Always.”

Tyler slips a purple and pink knitted beanie onto Addie’s head. “Seem to rely on you an awful lot.”

“It’s what friends do, right? Help each other out when they need it. They step up. Lend a hand. No one can go through life alone. No one.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to tell me that thirteen years ago. I was pretty sure that’s how I’d live out the rest of my life. And die.”

“Were you happy though? Living like that? All by your lonesome? Out there in the middle of nowhere?”

“I had company.”

“A dog and a chicken are NOT company,” Desi informs him. “Not by a long shot.”

“Dogs are man’s best friend, aren’t they? And it was a pretty smart chicken.”

“You can’t tell me you were happy like that. Living way out there, alone, no one to talk to. No one is happy living like that.”

“In all fairness, ninety percent of the time I was too out of it to be carrying on conversations.”

It feels like a lifetime ago; that rundown shack in the middle of the outback, surrounded by nothing but the sparse trees and dry earth and looming mountain ranges. It had seemed like the perfect place to let his wounds fester and his addictions take hold; no one trying to dictate what he could and couldn’t do, no attempts at trying to talk him into rehab or counselling, far enough out that not even Koen or Rata made it a habit of stopping by unannounced. Out there he’d been surrounded by nothing but emptiness; a perfect match for the gaping hole in his chest where his heart had once been. A punishment of sorts. Nothing but the mistakes of the past and his overwhelming grief and guilt to keep him warm at night. Out there he could let the demons run rampant; drinking himself into oblivion and abusing Oxy at an alarming rate. His last coherent thought before passing out would always be the same; that the substances he’d put in his body would be enough to ensure he didn’t wake up the next day. But he always did; usually coming to in the middle of the warped and dusty floor or sitting at the kitchen table. Surrounded by empty bottles of booze and tipped over vials of pills and crippled by a brutal hangover; the headache and nausea and the dizziness so intense he’d have to crawl to the bathroom.

When it became apparent that the mix of alcohol and painkillers weren’t enough to do the trick, he began taking the most risky and dangerous jobs possible. By that time, he was fully engrossed in his death wish; too chicken to pull the trigger himself so instead relying on someone else to do it for him. Every time he went out, he’d all but pleaded to a higher power that it would be his last. Resorting to begging and pleading with whatever -or whoever- was watching his ass to take break; take their eyes off him or shirk their duties long enough for him to catch a bullet to the head. Yet it never happened. No matter how many times he’d spun that barrel and taken the risk, he always lived to see another day. Which in turn had only made his desperation even more intense; feeding into that grief and the sorrow that threatened to drown him yet never took him right under. That day on the cliff when he’d plunged into the water below, there’d been nothing stopping him from giving up; the weight of his regret and self loathing enough to keep him below the surface and allow his air to slowly run out. He hadn’t been afraid. He’d been ready to die for a long time.

Yet something had told him to keep going. A little voice hanging onto a thread of hope; louder than those attempting to destroy him. And when he’d pulled himself out of the water, he’d found he suddenly felt lighter; as if some of the burdens and past mistakes had temporarily lifted and been replaced by the first shred of contentment he’d experienced in a hell of a long time. Less than forty minutes later, he’d be watching Esme as she climbed up onto his porch. Studying her as she crouched down and showered his dog with attention. Finding himself both curious and intrigued about the unknown, tattooed and pierced dark haired beauty that had suddenly shown up in his life.

“You gotta admit, that kind of existence IS lonely,” Desi says, as he opens the front door and motions for the three littles to step through. “All alone? Out in a place like THAT? I’ve been there, remember. I’ve seen what it’s like. It’s desolate and it’s isolating and…”

“And it’s what I wanted at the time.’

Desi cocks an eyebrow, then steps out onto the front porch. “What you wanted? Or what you thought you deserved?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Tyler’s mouth, and he stands on the threshold with a palm flat against the door, effectively holding it open. “What seemed right at the time.”

“Were you? Lonely?”

“Never gave it much thought, to be honest. But in all fairness, most of my days were spent drunk and high off my ass, so…”

“You never once wished that you had someone around? Someone to talk to? Spend time with? Get...you know...PERSONAL with.”

“If I wanted that, I could get it. Easily. There was no shortage of that, believe me.”

“You never wanted more than that? I mean, there’s more to life than THAT. What about bonding with someone? Yeah, sex is great, but what about everything else? Companionship. Friendship. Someone to come home to at the end of the day or however long you were gone for some times. Someone that’s just...THERE...you know?”

“I was a fucking mess. Way worse than you could even begin to imagine. Why would I bring someone into that? Why would I do that to someone? Ruin their life like that? They get with me, everything’s great for a while, then they discover just how messed up I am and take off. What would be the point? Bringing someone into that? That’s just wasting their time.”

“Was it about them or you? Not wanting to get involved with someone.”

Arching an eyebrow, Tyler leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Seems like maybe you were using all that as excuses. To protect yourself. That maybe you were scared to get too attached. Just in case they DID decide it was too much and run off.”

A slow grin tugs at his lips. “ You’re starting to sound an awful lot like Esme. You’re getting into the psychoanalyzing business too, huh?”

“I’m just saying that maybe it ran deeper than worrying about other peoples’ feelings. Maybe you were worried about your own too.”

“I was dead inside, Des. I wasn’t feeling a damn thing.”

“Except for shame and guilt and regret. And a whole hell of a lot of self loathing.”

“You really ARE spending too much with my wife.”

“I just think it makes sense. You protecting yourself too. But not willing to admit it. At least not out loud. Wouldn’t it have been worth giving it a shot? Finding someone? Seeing if they could put up with everything?”

“I was an alcoholic mercenary with a drug addiction and a death wish. Who would put up with that?”

“Esme, for one.”

“Esme is an entirely different breed all her own. I highly doubt there’s many out there like her. That would willingly hook up with a fucking train wreck and put up with everything I’ve put her through. That I KEEP putting her through.”

“You know, you’re not as bad as you think you are. Do you have some issues? Yeah. But shit, we all do. We’re all a mess. In one way or another. You might be a little messier than most, but…”

“A little? That’s being awfully nice about it.”

“Look, she sticks around, doesn’t she? She’s still here. Twelve and half years later. You really think if things were THAT bad she wouldn’t have hauled ass a long time ago? Didn’t y’all split up for a while?”

“Six months,” Tyler confirms.

“And yet you got back together. She wanted things to work out. Not like she kicked your ass to the curb and hooked up with some other guy. You guys fixed your shit, made things better. She wouldn’t have taken you back if you were that bad. She wouldn’t have put herself or the kids through that.”

“Still a lot for one person to deal with. We’ve been through a lot shit. Way too much, actually.”

“Shit that would have broken weaker people,” Desi points out. “Both of you...separately... are strong as hell. But the two of you together? That’s a force to be reckoned with. And maybe she is a different breed of woman. Maybe it was the way she was raised that made her the way she is. Or the way she WASN’T raised. But let me tell you, she is a tough little thing. Feisty as all hell.”

“Totally a study in contradiction. You see that little body and that cute face and you think she’s all innocent and sweet and the next thing you know…”

“You’re married to her and seven kids?” Desi grins.

“I was going to say the next thing you know, she’s telling you where to go and how to get there and putting you in your place. Totally not what I expected, that’s for sure. Woman that size to be such a challenge. And so fucking bossy. If you heard half the shit that comes out of her mouth…”

“She keeps you on your toes. Challenges you. She’s definitely no push over. Which leads right back to my point. If you were as bad as you think you are, do you really think a woman like her would stick around? Hell no. She’d tell you off and pack her shit and take off. There’s no if’s, end’s, or butt’s about that. You brought that much shit and pain into her life? Things would have never gotten this far.”

“You know, you make a little TOO much sense.”

“I just tell ‘em like I see ‘em. You’re not the massive prick you think you are. Maybe a little bit of one…”

Tyler smirks.

“She showed up right when she was supposed to. That day at your place. Think of all the things in both your pasts that had to go wrong for you two to cross paths. If even just one of things went right, you probably never would have laid eyes on her. And that would have been a damn shame.”

“Yeah,” he nods slowly, considering his friend’s words. “It would have been.”

“The right woman came along at the right time. If your heart and your head didn’t think so, you wouldn’t be where you are now. You wouldn’t have the life you do. Hell, you probably wouldn’t have a life at all.”

“I’d be dead. If Esme hadn’t come along. I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“Daddy!” Addie clomps up the front walk and climbs the porch stairs; abandoning the task of helping her siblings build a messy fort of wet snow. And she wraps both arms around one of his thighs and leans her slight, tiny body into him. “Do we REALLY have to go out?”

“It’s just for a few hours.” He scoops her up into his arms and settles her on his hip. “ Go get some lunch, go see a movie, stop at the candy store. Doesn’t that sound like fun? A day out with Des? You always love your days out with Des.”

“It does sound like fun and I DO love going out with Desi, but…” she curls both arms around his neck and nestles her face against the side of his throat. “...I want to stay with you and mummy. She was gone this morning. And it scared me. That she wasn’t here to do our thing.”

“Well tomorrow you can do your thing. Sometimes OTHER things come up. Can’t help that.”

“And I only got to spend a little bit of time with her because she’s been sleeping a LONG time!”

“She’s only been sleeping an hour. Didn’t you spend some time with her? Didn't you take a bath with her? In the big tub?”

“Yeah, but…”

“I need you to cooperate, okay? Mummy needs some rest. And she can’t really get that with all you guys in the house. Right now, she needs to sleep and when she wakes up, I need to be able to take care of her. And if I’ve got all you guys to take care of, I can’t really do that, can I?”

“Is she sick?”

“She’s a little under the weather.”

“Like a cough due to cold?”

“Nothing like that. She’s just feeling a little rundown. Nothing some quiet time won’t help. So you think you can do me a solid? Go out with a Desi for a bit?”

Addie sighs heavily. “I guess…”

“We’ll have a great time,” Desi promises. “We always do. Mommy and daddy need some time alone. It happens. They’ve got some stuff to take care of.”

Addie reaches for him; allowing herself to pass from one set of arms to another. “Like making a baby?”

“No one is making any babies,” Tyler informs. “Not in this house anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because our days of making babies are long gone. The shop is closed. All done. That’s it.”

“One more wouldn’t be so bad,” Addie reasons. “Another sister.”

“One more WOULD be bad. And a shock because neither mummy or I can have more babies. Now…” laying a hand on the back of her head, he leans in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. “....be good. I don’t want any bad reports when Desi gets back.”

“Why you telling me? I’m always good.”

Tyler stares pointedly at his daughter.

“Well, ALMOST always.”

“Remember what I said. No taking off. You stay with Desi. Or with TJ. Got it?”

Addie gives a thumbs up. “Got it!”

“Have fun. And don’t worry about mummy. She’s fine, I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

“You better,” the five year old warns. “‘Cause that’s my mummy and if anything happens to her…”

“Your mummy is in good hands,” Tyler promises. “Daddy knows what he's doing. I’m not some rookie, you know.”

“You be nice to mummy,” Addie orders. “No arguing and no making her cry and no making fun of how tiny she is.”

“You’re kidding me, right? That’s my go to. Making fun of her height.”

“Speaking as a short person, it’s NOT funny. At all.”

“I wonder how funny it will be when I DO pick you and your mum up and put you in my pockets.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Addie’s eyes narrow as she glares at him.

“Don’t give me that look,” He pecks her pouted lips. “You and your mumma both know everything I say, I say because I love you guys. Can I help it that you’re both so tiny and cute?”

“Can we help it that you’re so big and have humongous feet and ears?” Addie counters.

“Ouch,” Desi chuckles. “Savage.”

“She gets that from her mumma. Little, but so full of rage.” He digs his fingers into his daughter’s side, tickling her until the pout turns into a smile and she begins to giggle. “Do I need to remind you that you got my ears? And my feet? You all do.”

“Poor us,” Addie quips, and then squeals and giggles even louder when he brushes his beard against her cheeks.

“I love you,” he says, and presses a kiss to the freckled bridge of his daughter's nose. “Be good, okay? I’m counting on you here.”

“I got this!” She flashes two thumbs up over Desi’s shoulder as he carries her down the stairs. “See you later, alligator!”

“In a while crocodile,” Tyler responds.

“Blow a kiss, goldfish!”

“Bye-bye butterfly.”

“Toodle-loo kangaroo!”

Tyler shoots her a wink and then steps out onto the front porch. Hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie as he watches Desi herd the noisy and excited and noisy bunch out the front gate and then down the slush covered sidewalk. Waiting until they disappear around the corner before heading back into the house.

*****

The shower feels damn good. Hot enough to sting and to cause a new layer of perspiration to form on his skin; gathering at his temples and along his hairline and above his upper lip. The latter he swipes away with the tip of his tongue and then places his palms flat against the tile; chin tucked into his chest and his eyes closed as the water beats down on his weary body. Physically speaking, he feels great; very little pain or tightness across the small of his back, a dull yet manageable ache in his repaired shoulder, the swelling of his right knee not as not as prominent as it usually is. The latter surprises him. He’d pushed himself extremely hard during his run that morning, greatly exceeding anything he’d ever put himself on the treadmill and far beyond the limits the specialists had put on him after his second surgery. And while he knows he shouldn’t ‘test the waters’ and there’s a legitimate risk of ligament tears and dislocations, he’s never been one to play by the rules. Refusing to let anyone confine him to what’s conventionally acceptable; always wanting to prove not only the naysayers wrong, but his own mind and body. An injury he can deal with; another operation and the recovery afterwards a lot easier to bear then the damage to the ego. His physicality has always been of major importance; strength, size, speed, stamina. And he’s had a hell of a time getting back to even seventy percent of where he’d been five years ago. When Nathan had managed to get the jump on him and achieved what no other foe had ever managed: breaking his body and mind.

He refuses to dwell on it. Nothing he can do will ever erase or lessen what happened; his body forever damaged and his entire lifestyle permanently altered. Physical injuries, mental health issues, the constant toeing of the line between addiction and sobriety. And he knows things could be a lot worse; dying that day on the bridge in Dhaka and never getting his second chance. He’d been given an incredible opportunity; an absolution for the mistakes of the past and a whole new life and a bright and content future. But it hasn’t been without its own share of pain and sacrifice and suffering; every blessing coming at an exceptional cost. Ones he’d happily paid and would do so again; willingly putting his own body and sanity on the line if it means keeping his family safe and sound.

A half an hour passes; hot water tank nearly drained when he finally steps out of the shower. Body still damp when he heads into the bedroom; a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and another being used to vigorously dry his hair. Slivers of light manage to trickle through the gap in the room darkening curtains, and he uses it to his advantage; quietly navigating the spacious master suite. She’s been asleep for more than an hour now; on his side of the bed with the heavy comforter pulled up to her chin and her cheek nestled into his pillow. Normally she would have argued with him; pointing out the list of things that -in her always busy mind- needed to be done before her sister’s arrival. But her ‘meltdown’ earlier had left her emotionally exhausted and she hadn’t kicked up even the slightest bit of fuss when he suggested she take time for herself; a long soak in the tub, her favourite ‘comfort’ clothes, a well deserved nap.

It’s been twelve and a half years of sacrifice and compromise on her part; giving up her old life in favour of a new one with him, adjusting to life in a new country only to have it torn apart and be forced back home, reluctantly agreeing to his return to the job and the worry and the stress that came with it. Five pregnancies that resulted in seven amazing and beautiful children; her physical and mental health paying a steep price each time, yet never denying him the desire for a big family. And the times she’s seen him near death. Horrendous injuries inflicted upon him; those long days and nights by his side in various hospitals and eventually the arduous and painful roads to recovery. Yet she’s done it without complaint; throwing herself into caring for him and their family and consistently putting her own well being on the back burner.

Lowering himself cautiously onto the end of the bed, he once more scrubs at his hair and then tosses the towel in the direction of the laundry hamper; sighing when it misses its mark and falls heavily to the floor. While mentally weary, his body feels great; relieved to be relatively pain free and filled with an uncharacteristic optimism. The silver lining within a very dark and immense cloud. A welcome boost of confidence he hasn’t experienced in years; brave enough to consider that maybe...just maybe...the worst is now behind him. And as he studies his reflection in the mirror atop the dresser, for once he’s not finding all the faults. No anger or disgust when his fingers lightly travel over the myriad of scars that inhabit his face, no thoughts of how battered and worn down he appears. Instead he notices that his eyes seem brighter; not as haunted and empty as they’ve been since his return from Cambodia. His face has filled out; the slight weight gain making the lines that accompany aging -and a hard life lived on the edge- not seem as prominent. His chest and arms are bigger; the slightest of flexes stretching the tattoos that decorate the insides of both biceps and shoulders. The positivity is surprising; years spent living in a state of self loathing and speaking self deprecating words long ago taking their toll and reducing him to a man that didn’t give a shit about his personal appearance. As long as he maintained his strength and his quickness and his skills, that had been all that mattered; not giving a second thought to his choice of attire or the thickness of his beard or the unruliness of his hair.

He’s still not what would be considered high maintenance; the opposite of a Desi who spends more time getting ready than the average female and has closets full of insanely expensive high end clothing. Still the most comfortable in bare feet and board shorts; jeans and a simple t-shirt considered ‘dressing up’ in his world. It’s an effortless existence; relaxed and content and low key. And it’s one the entire family -aside from a very ‘girly’ Addie- has adopted. Happy and secure; tucked away at the end of that dead end street and surrounded by nature and the smells and the sounds of the ocean. Their own slice of paradise; hard work, resilience, and a hell of a lot of money turning what had once been a modest residence into their dream home. It will be their ‘happily after after’; the place where they’ll raise their children, spoil their grandkids, and grow old and grey together. And for once, he’s confident that will happen. That they’ll get those moments Esme often speaks wistfully about. When their home is empty and it’s just the two of them; quiet breakfasts on the back deck and dinners down by the water. When there’s more grey in their hair and wrinkles on their faces, yet they still walk along the beach hand in hand or with their arms wrapped around each other; indulging in their bantering and their teasing and stopping to steal kisses in the surf.

And still giving her piggy back rides back to the house.

He feels the mattress shift slightly, and he watches her reflection through the mirror as she adjusts her position in bed. Rolling over onto her back and stretching languorously; a long, content sigh escaping her lips and the heels of her palms pressing into her eyes. When she props herself onto her elbows and looks at him, her hair is disheveled and her eyes are slightly narrowed; a pout of confusion and disorientation capturing her lips.

“Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost one.”

The pout transforms into a frown. “In the afternoon?”

“No. Morning.”

“Smart ass,” she grumbles, and then flops down onto her back. A foot kicks off the heavy comforter in favour of coming in contact with his back; toes slowly brushing along the top edge of the towel. “What are you doing?”

“I was in the shower. Didn’t get a chance to do it when I got home from my run. With everything that happened and you leaving and having to take care of the kids....” his voice trails off. It’s the last thing he wants to revisit. His panic attack in the kitchen, the way his oldest son had sensed the urgency and the stress and stepped up to the plate to care for his little sister, the worry that his wife either wouldn’t return or would walk through the door and tell him that it was over. That he was just too much for her to bear; a heavy and troublesome burden weighing her down.

“Why’s it so quiet?” she asks, and he’s thankful for the change in conversation. “What happened? Did they get a little too feral? Get on your last nerve so you tranquilized all of them?”

“I sold them all. On the black market.”

“I hope you got a good price for them,” she chides, and trails the tip of her big toe along his spine. “I put a lot of work into those kids. Not to mention what my body went through. I think that’s worth a good penny, don’t you? Doesn’t it deserve compensation? My body going to absolute shit?”

“Your body is amazing. It was incredible when we met, and it’s even more incredible now.”

“You really are the most biased husband on earth. My ass is bigger. My hips are wider.”

“You’ve had babies. MY babies.”

“Yeah, I have,” she smiles, and once more props herself up on her elbows. “Only guy in the universe I’d ever give that many spawn too.”

He grins at her through the mirror. “I’m honoured.”

“You should be,” she playfully retorts. “You’re naked under that towel, aren’t you.”

“Well considering I just got out of the shower and I don’t wear board shorts or underwear when I’m in there…”

“Honey, as incredible as your body is and I could lie here all day admiring it, I’m going to need you to put some clothes on. It’s far too tempting to engage in X rated activity when you’re naked. Or next to naked.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. X rated activities. With me.”

“Normally it’s not. But I think I’m PMSing.” That dramatic, adorable pout again. “ I’ve got wicked cramps and I’m feeling bloated as fuck and you know my hesitancy on having sex when all of that is going on. I know it doesn’t faze you and as much as orgasms DO help, it’s just not my jam.”

“Say no more.” Sighing, he gets to his feet; grateful that the normally bone deep pain that resides in his right knee has settled into nothing more than a dull, manageable ache. And he grabs a pair of discarded jeans slung over the back of the chair by the balcony door; releasing the towel from around his waist and tossing it in the direction of the laundry hamper.

“Now that’s just evil,” Esme declares. “You are a bad, bad, BAD man.”

He smirks at her through the mirror. “Why’s that?”

“Don’t play innocent with me. You know exactly what you’re doing. Just dropping the towel like that. That’s so, so, SO mean.”

“Gotta give you something to stare at, yeah?”

“I prefer to call it admiring. And I have done a lot of admiring over the last twelve and half years. You never disappoint, husband.”

“I aim to please.”

“And do you ever hit your mark. Each and every time.”

Grinning, he tugs the jeans up over his hips and ass and tends to the button and zipper; pushing a hand through his damp hair as he approaches the side of the bed. “Move.”

“I like this spot. It’s YOUR spot. It’s got all your grooves in it. It’s comfortable.”

“Yeah, but it’s MY spot. And you know how anal I am about my spot. So haul ass. Please.”

“Grump face,” she mutters, but wriggles her way backward across the bed; rolling onto her hip as he joins her; sliding under the comforter and laying on his side facing her.

“Come here…” Reaching out, he curls an arm around her petite frame and pulls her into him. Hand resting in the middle of her back as his other arm slips under her shoulder; thigh wedging between her legs.. “...I’ll make you feel better, baby. In a non X rated way.”

“You’re so selfless.” She presses her body against his; a hand pushing through his hair and her head tucking under his chin. Eyes closing and a long, content sigh escaping her as she breathes in his familiar scent. Clean and crisp; notes of sandalwood and citrus. “So generous. Where ARE the kids?”

“Desi took them out. Lunch and a movie. Candy bar afterwards.”

“He just offered or....?”

“I called him. Told him you were having a rough day. That I needed some time and some space and some quiet. To take care of my girl.”

A smile plays on her lips as she pulls back to look at him. “Your girl, huh?”

“That’s what you are, aren’t ya? Or would I rather I call you my old lady?”

“I would definitely NOT rather that. I like it; being called your girl. It’s cute. I like the sound of it.”

He presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose. Palm sliding up her back, across her shoulder and then gently cupping the side of her face ; thumb repeatedly brushing against the top of her cheek.

She likes these moments with him. Quiet and content; bodies pressed together in a pure and innocent form of intimacy. The way his gaze never wavers ; as if he's intently studying every inch of her features and committing them to memory. Love and adoration written as plain as day upon his face; the softness of his expression, the gentle touch of a callused palm and fingertips, the tender smile that plays on his lips. A beautiful man with a not so beautiful past. A childhood filled with torment and abuse and anguish and tremendous loss, followed by years of substance abuse and a life lived on the edge; hounded by immense grief and guilt and regret and anxious for death to claim him. It’s no surprise that he has the issues he does; no one can go through a lifetime of trauma and come out of it unscathed. But it’s a shock he isn’t worse than he is. Still filled with so much strength; resilient and brave and never backing down from even the biggest of challenges. Loving and compassionate and sensitive. A striking juxtaposition considering his choice of career. A hardened and highly skilled mercenary that kills as a means to an end, not because he enjoys it.

“So you actually CALLED Desi?” she inquires. “For help? That’s a little...out of character.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Your sister won’t be here until later and I wasn’t waiting that long. So I got a hold of him and asked him to do me a favour. If he could take the kids so I could concentrate on you. That’s kind of hard to do when there’s seven plus one under the same roof.”

“That’s HUGE for you. You didn’t just acknowledge and admit you needed help, you actually ACTED on it.”

“What’s so huge about that? I’ve asked for help before.”

“You’ve asked ME for help before. Never someone else. That’s not you, Tyler. You’d rather wear yourself thin or completely burn yourself out than rely on other people.”

“It’s one of my issues,” he admits. “For many reasons. But you know how I always say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you?”

Esme nods.

“That includes swallowing my pride and asking for help.”

“You doing THAT? THAT’S love right there. And probably some lust, too.”

“There’s a little bit of that in there too,” he teases, and then places a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. Their eyes closing when the tip of his nose comes to rest against her forehead; hand slipping from her cheek and finding the back of her neck, fingers gently and deftly massaging the tense muscles.

For several minutes neither of them speak; basking in the silence and the warmth that radiates from one another's bodies; his slow, even breaths ruffling her hair, hers tickling his bare neck. These moments are rare; the chaos of raising seven children and their respective work schedules and responsibilities. Both are looking forward to her being home more. The opportunity to actually be alone; walks on the beach or time in the water, hikes in the woods or strolls through town. And the road trips. Needing nothing more than gas in the tank and money in their pockets.

*****

“Feeling any better?” Tyler asks, and slips his hand up into her hair; fingertips gently kneading the scalp.

“A little. Have a headache though. Not sure if it’s PMS or my moods or my meltdown earlier. But it’s a bitch. A mean, old bitch.”

He pulls away. Hand moving to the top of her head and fingers pressing on her well known problem areas; along the tops of both brows, the inside corners of her eyes, the bridge of her nose. Attempting to alleviate at least some of the pain and pressure. “Good?” he asks, when she reaches up to push her fingers through his; drawing their joined hands down to her lips and pressing a kiss to the side of his wrist.

She nods, a smile curving her lips. “Good. You and your magic fingers. They certainly know their stuff. In many ways.”

“They have a talent all of their own.”

“They certainly do. MANY talents, actually. Are YOU feeling better?”

“Not bad. My body feels pretty good. Thought maybe I’d be in agony after my run, but…”

“You pushed yourself, didn’t you. HARD. Harder than you’re supposed to.”

“Come on now. Would I actually do something like that? Not listen to the doctor’s orders?”

“You most certainly would. And you definitely have. Be careful, Tyler. Don’t push the limits too much, okay? I realize you know your own body, but you don’t always listen to it. I don’t want you hurting yourself. Screwing something up and needing surgery. AGAIN.”

“I won’t go too hard,” he promises, and pecks her lips. “But right now? I’m taking care of YOU. Not the other way around. You’ve spent a lot of time looking after me. Worrying about me. Probably too much.”

“It’s not like it’s a job or something like that. You’re my husband. I love you. That’s why I do it.”

“And I love you. Which is why I need to step up and take care of you. Don’t be so stubborn, Me. Let me look after you. We’re a team, yeah? We’re supposed to be in this together? Let me pick up some of the slack.”

“It’s a bad habit of mine. Doing everything myself. I mean, in high school I was the one that got saddled with all the work during group projects. My classmates would fuck around and I’d be stuck having to do it all by my lonesome.”

“Well you don’t have to do this by your lonesome. It’s a two way street, right? You and me against the world?”

Nodding, she presses a kiss to his chin, then his lips. “You’re a good husband. I think I’ll keep you.”

“Good. Because I think I’ll stick around. I kinda like it here.”

Smiling, she lays a hand on the side of his face. Her fingers press through his beard; nails lightly scraping along his jaw. “Do you think we could talk?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing? You already said no naked time, so…”

“I mean a serious talk. Piggybacking off what happened this morning. More specifically, what happened with ME this morning. And WHY it happened.”

“I thought we already talked about it. When you got back. Didn’t realize there was anything more to say. You’re going through some shit. Depression. Probably PTSD. You got a lot of stress. And probably most of that can be blamed on me.”

“I’m not blaming anything on you. I never have. I never will. My brain was screwed up way before you ever came along.”

“I’m sure I made it worse. I’ve put you through a lot of crap. Twelve and a half years of it.”

“We are not doing this. YOU are not doing this. That’s all water under the bridge, Tyler. Things we went through and dealt with. It’s behind us. Can we leave it there? Can YOU? Because it’s not doing you any good; holding onto so much guilt and regret. I don’t want you doing that. That’s the last thing I want, actually.”

“It’s kind of hard NOT to do it. To think back on it all and not see how badly i’ve fucked up.”

“It was all beyond your control. Things went bad. That’s all there is to really say about it. Things went to shit and you reacted badly to them and you made some pretty crappy judgement calls. But we got past all of that. I don’t hold grudges against you. I don’t hate you. Or blame you for anything. It’s time you stop blaming yourself, okay?”

“You know me. I’m willing to try anything once. Except for maybe eating ass. That’s a little too far out of my comfort zone.”

“Well lucky for you, it’s WAY out of mine. But can we? Have a serious talk? Without it turning into a fight? I don’t want to fight with you. We’ve come a long way since those days; everything turning into a big blow out.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, either. But if it’s something THAT serious…”

“I mean, it’s serious but not THAT serious. It’s not life or death or anything. It’s just...I don’t know…” her fingers nervously fidget with the chain around his neck. “...it’s a pretty big deal.”

“Is it about us? Are we having problems I’m not aware of? Is there someone else?”

“No! Oh my god, no. Nothing like that. Other than dealing with our own mental stuff, we are fine. We are MORE than fine. And there isn’t anyone else. There never has been. And there never will be. You’re it for me. For the rest of my life. There’s no one else I want. I could EVER want.”

Smiling, he presses a kiss to her lips.

“It’s to do with me. What’s going on in my head. What HAS been going on in there. And I need you to promise that you won’t freak out. That you won’t hear the worst of it and shut down and lose your temper and…”

He frowns. “Esme…”

“Tyler, I love you. More than you could ever possibly know. And right now, I need you to promise me that you won’t lose it. That you’ll just listen and let everything sink in. Not just hear a bit and react. Can you do that? Promise me?”

He nods. “I won’t lose my shit. Promise. What’s going on? Are you okay? Are you sick? Is there something wrong and you’ve been holding out on me?”

“I’m not sick,” she assures him. “Not physically anyway. It’s all to do with my brain. I’ve struggled for years. Long before I ever met you. And I’ve had some down moments; since we’ve been together. Especially after each of our babies. When postpartum was a real bitch to me. So it’s not like you don’t know what I deal with. In my head.”

“I’ve known for years. You told me pretty much right from the start. A couple days into Dhaka. About having depression. Being diagnosed after your dad died. And I’m pretty sure you’ve got PTSD too. After everything that went on in Bangladesh, ESPECIALLY on that bridge? You can’t say it would be a surprise. If you were diagnosed with it.”

“The furthest thing from a surprise. Now you promise? Not to freak out?”

“I already did. Can we get to it already? Because you stall any longer and my anxiety is going to go off the charts.”

Sighing, she curls a finger around his necklace and gently yanks him into a kiss. Lips lingering on his before finally pulling away. “I lied to you. About a year ago,”

“About…?”

“Do you remember when you were in Brazil? For a couple weeks? The whole drug cartel thing?”

He nods. “What about it?”

“Remember how when you came back, I mentioned a girls weekend. In Cairns. With Riley and Shaena. And how I was worried you’d be pissed because I wanted to go on it? Because you’d been gone for two weeks and me leaving meant we’d only have a couple days together?”

“Yeah, and I was fine with it. You needed a break. I didn’t have a problem with you going. What…?”

“There was never a girls weekend,” Esme admits, and his frown intensifies; deep furrows inhabiting his brow. “We made it up. So you wouldn’t know what was really going on.”

“Babe...what…?”

“I was in the hospital. For three days. And not just any hospital. A psychiatric one.”

“A psychiatric hospital? Why? What…?”

“When you were gone, I had a really bad time. I mean, I always do when you leave. I don’t sleep, I worry constantly, I stress over everything and even little stuff gets on my nerves and drags me down. But this was worse. WAY worse. And even though I knew you were okay and that you were coming home, I still had all that dread, you know? All that worry. Constantly wondering if maybe I’d never see you again. That maybe the last time you walked out the door really WAS the last time.”

“That was an easy job. I wasn’t even out in the field. I was strictly behind the scenes. I never even left the hotel. Not until I had to go get everyone out. I told you I’d stay behind and I did.”

“I know. But I still freaked out. I was still worried. I always worry about you, you know that. And one night it was really bad. I felt like I was losing it. I hadn’t heard from you that day and you didn’t return any of my voicemails or texts and…”

“We had problems with coms. I told you that. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you. There were legit issues.”

“And I tried telling myself that. That there were issues. But it didn’t help. And I lost it. Badly. I’m pretty sure it was actually a mental breakdown. And I called Riley because I was freaking out and I couldn’t get control of myself. I thought I was going crazy. And I told her that I felt like I was going to hurt myself.”

He blinks at her confession. “What?”

“I don’t think I actually would have done it. I think I was just feeling desperate at that moment. I don’t think…”

“You wanted to kill yourself? You wanted to die?”

“I guess. I don’t know. I was looking for a way out. An escape. And my brain wasn’t exactly in a good place and that’s where it went. Like I said, I don’t think I would have actually done anything. But I called Riley and she came over and stayed with me and the kids. Just in case.”

“What if she hadn’t been around? What if she couldn’t have come over? What if she still lived in Colorado? Would you have done it? Hurt yourself?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t THINK so? Esme…”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking right. I was in a really bad way, Tyler. REALLY bad. And I needed help. So I called her.”

“Why didn’t you call ME?”

“What would you have been able to do? You were in Brazil.”

“I would have come home. Right away. I would have dropped everything and had someone else be in charge. Do you really think I wouldn’t have? Come home? There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Why didn’t you call me?”

“You were so far away,” she attempts to reason. “And I needed help right away.”

“I would have talked you down. I would have gotten you through it. Why wouldn’t you get a hold of me? I’m your husband.”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was just thinking in the moment. And getting ahold of you in Brazil wasn’t the first thing that came to my mind. It wasn’t personal. You should know that. That you’re the one person that’s always been able to help me. But you were thousands of miles away and you were busy and I didn’t want to put something else on you. Burden you.”

“Burden me? You’re my wife. You could never burden me. What the fuck, Esme? Why didn’t you at least tell me I got home? Why lie to me? Why make up this whole fucking story about a girls trip? Why…?”

“I didn’t want to put that on you. Especially when you had to stay with the kids. They needed you to be focused and all about them. And you wouldn’t have been able to do that if I told you. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You didn’t want me to worry? You’re my WIFE.”

“I was trying to protect you. I’m always trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Tyler argues. “I’m not a fucking child, Esme. I’m a grown ass man. I don’t need you coddling me and babying me and protecting me. I would have stepped up and took care of you. That should have been on me. Not your sister. Not Shaena. Not anyone else. Me.”

“I needed you to take care of the kids. You’d been gone for two weeks and they missed you and I didn’t want them to be without BOTH parents. It’s not personal. I didn’t make the decisions I did to hurt you. I made them to help you. To help our family.”

“How much help would it have been if I’d come home and you were dead on the floor? How much help would it have been if one of our kids had found you? Do you know how bad that would have fucked them up? Losing their mother like that? Do you know how bad it would have fucked ME up?”

“I wasn’t thinking of those things. I wasn’t thinking about anything. That’s the problem. All I wanted was an escape. That’s it.”

“An escape from what? Your shitty life with your shitty husband?”

“No!” She clasps his face in her hands. “I love my life. And my husband. You know what depression is like. It doesn’t care where you live or what you have or how many people love you. It’s all in your head. It’s a fucking monster you can’t escape from. You know EXACTLY what it’s like. I never meant…” her voice cracks with emotion. “...I never meant to hurt you. I would NEVER hurt you. I thought I was protecting you. And I know you say you don’t need me to. And maybe you don’t. But I do it because I love you. Because I want to make things easier on you. That’s all. It’s not to hurt you, Tyler.”

“You can’t try and convince me I’m not broken when you treat me like I am.”

She frantically grabs at the chain around his neck with one hand, his shoulder with the other. “That’s not what I was doing. You AREN’T broken. I don’t treat you like you are.”

“You are when you do shit like that. When you lie to me. Especially about something like this.”

“I’ve never lied to you. About anything. I’ve always been honest. About my childhood, about what Mark put me through, about…”

“What about the guy?”

“What guy? What…?”

“The one you went out with. When we were separated. Took you years to tell me about him.”

She frowns. “There was nothing to tell you. He was just some single dad I met at daycare pick up. That’s it. It was nothing important. Just some guy.”

“That you went out with. While we were still married.”

“Have you been just waiting to throw that in my face? Have you been holding onto that all this time? Just looking for the opportunity to hold that over my head? Why would you…?”

“I was faithful to you. Whether we were going to work shit or not. I wasn’t looking for someone else. I didn’t want another woman. And I could have had one. I could have had tons of them. It wasn’t for lack of opportunity, believe me.”

“Then why didn’t you do it? If you had so many chances. Why didn’t you take any of them?”

“Because I wanted my wife. I didn’t want anyone else. You, Just you.”

“And I wanted you! But you were a fucking mess and I was hurt because you weren’t fighting for me. For your family. So yeah, I went out on a date. Because someone showed interest in me and made me feel special and beautiful and wanted. Because I was hurt and I wanted you to hurt just as much as I was. I was so pissed at you. For not getting your shit together and coming home and fighting for us. So I went out on a date. And I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the attention."

“Did you fuck him?”

“No. I told you what happened. I told you he tried and I turned him down. I told him that I couldn’t do it because I was still in love with my husband. That I was still hoping we could work things out. That’s the truth. And that’s how I got that black eye. Because he didn’t handle the rejection so well. That’s the truth. All of it. I never slept with him. I’ve ever been with anyone but you. For the last twelve and a half years. Just you.”

He nods slowly, letting her words sink in.

“Tyler…” her nails dig into the back of his neck. “...don’t do this...don’t shut me out. Please don’t do that. I don’t want you to do that.”

“What do you want me to say? What…?”

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to lie to you. I…” tears flow freely down her face. “...I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.”

“Come here,” he gently orders, and pushing a hand through her hair, settles it on her back and pulls her into him. “It’s okay, Me. Everything’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean to lie to you. Not about the guy and not about the girls weekend. I was just trying to protect you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know you weren’t.” Pressing a kiss to her temple, he rolls over onto his back; both arms wrapping around her and pulling her with him. “And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have brought that shit up. I haven’t been holding onto it. Or waiting to use it again. I reacted. Badly. And when I do, nothing is off limits. I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to say that shit.”

“It’s okay,” she sniffles, and curls her arms around his neck. “I know how you get. When you hear things you don’t like. But for the record? This is what I meant when I made you promise not to lose it.”

“I am so fucking sorry. I’m an asshole. A huge asshole.”

“No. You’re not. You just have no chill sometimes. I’m used to it. Or fairly used to it, anyway.”

“I never should have said what I did. About the guy you went out with. You had every right to. Go on a date. I wasn’t exactly stepping up. I just lost it. Hearing about you wanting to hurt herself and how you spent time in psychiatric hospital. Kinda kicked me in the nuts, ya know?”

“I was going to tell you,” she says, chin resting on his chest as she looks up at him. “When I got home. But I was feeling so much better and you and the kids were so happy to see me. I didn’t want to ruin that. And then we got on with life and there never seemed to be a good time. So I kept it to myself. It wasn’t to intentionally hurt you., I’d NEVER do that.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“And I don’t mean to treat you like you’re broken. Because you’re not. A little bent, maybe…”

He manages a laugh. “I’ve been put through the ringer a few times. Got a little too many miles on me. Quite the collection of dents and scars going on.”

“They’re beautiful. Every single one of them.” Wriggling further up the bed, she pushes a hand through his hair; tightly gripping the longer locks as she pecks the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry, Tyler. That I lied to you. I had good intentions. I really did.”

“You always do.” He curls an arm around her neck and kisses her. Long and soft and sweet; tasting the salty tears that linger across her top lip. “It’s okay, Me. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.” He tangles his fingers in her hair, gently pushing her head back down onto his chest. “ Has it happened again? Feeling the way you did? Have you wanted to hurt yourself? Or worse?”

“No. I haven’t felt that way since. I’ve been depressed, but not like that.”

“And you’d tell me? If you did feel that way?”

She nods.

Sighing heavily, he places a forearm over his eyes. Lying in silence and feeling her body tremble against his; knuckles repeatedly ghosting along her spine as he attempts to get a grasp on the situation. Her mental health issues have never been a secret; she’s been on medication for years and has occasionally needed it to be tweaked. But to hear that she’d been THAT low? Considering hurting herself? Or even attempting something more permanent? It’s devastating. Feeding right into his worst fear. The thought of losing her to an event totally beyond his control. A wedge of emotion settles in his throat and tears prick his eyes; the realization of how close he’d come to losing. But he fights it off. Needing to stay strong for her. Always willing, ready, and able to put his own problems aside. Her rock and her protector.

“Tyler?” Her voice is impossibly tiny. Apprehensive. Scared.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you. So much. You’ll never know how much.”

Smiling, he slides his palm to the back of her neck and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you too.”

[cmtwimagines]

The Article

SAM WINCHESTER X READER

SUMMARY: Your past may be in the past, but Sam still wants to know everything about you.

WARNINGS: Parental Abuse, Mention of Knives + Cutting

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

PROMPT: Could you write a Sam Winchester x reader to the prompt "oh god....what did they do to you?" 

You stared at yourself in the mirror. The bruises and cuts that used to be all over your body were merely just scars now, but you still felt the pain in them. You could still feel every slice of his knife. Against your stomach, your arms, your chest and legs. You could still feel the slaps she landed on your face, and the punches and kicks she planted everywhere else that was within reach.

You’d been a hunter with Sam and Dean for awhile now, the bunker being the home that the three of you shared happily. You met them only a few years into becoming a hunter, so compared to them you were a baby, even if you were only a few years younger than Sam. They’ve taught you so much. They’ve helped you gain confidence in your work, and confidence in yourself, but then came days like today where you wake up in a cold sweat and the memories rushing back to you like they had just happened.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the full body mirror as you stood in front of it in only your underwear. Neither of the brothers have seen your scars, you’ve made sure of it. They didn’t know what your parents did to you before you were even fully understand the extent of how bad the things they did to you were. Hell, for all the brothers knew, your parents were dead. At least that’s what you told them to avoid the inevitable questions asking why you don’t see or speak to them. You glared at yourself, finally gaining the energy to turn away and slip your shirt and pants on, getting ready for the day.

Today was going to be tough. While you were thankful that the world isn’t too crazy at the moment, you wished Sam and Dean weren’t on a hunt, and that you and Sam could cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie and distract your mind. You loved both of the brothers more than you’ve ever loved anyone, but there’s always been something more between you and Sam. You both never talked about it, but simply enjoyed the time you got to spend with each other knowing that there was nobody in either one of your lives that you cared for more.

Walking out of your room and towards the kitchen, you were startled to hear the clanking of pots filling the empty space. Did they come home early? Was there somehow an intruder? Without thinking much of it, you simply just walked into the kitchen and found Castiel filling a kettle with water before turning around towards you and setting it on one of the stove burners.

“Good morning, y/n - sorry if I woke you!” He exclaimed, not even a bit jumpy at you showing up out of nowhere while he was so clearly distracted.

“Morning Cas, don’t worry about it, I was already awake,” you retorted, grabbing the laptop off of the counter and settling yourself into one of the chairs around the table.

“Are you feeling alright? It’s only 8am and you usually sleep in until at least noon. Are you sick?” He asks. By the look on his face you could tell he was genuinely curious and concerned, no hint of mocking in his tone. It is true that you usually sleep in quite late, your nightmares just weren’t up for that today.

“M’fine, just couldn’t sleep well so I figured I might as well get up,” you sighed, shrugging your shoulders and opening the laptop. You froze once your eyes zoned in on the picture in front of you. There you were, a mere fifteen year old squished in-between your parents, all three of you showing your very realistic fake smiles. You could remember this day like it was yesterday; your mom always insisted on taking holiday photos to send out to the family around Christmas time. She loved acting like she was a perfect mother, but you just remember being slapped around after she got her picture because she thought you had too much attitude.

“Y/n? Did you just hear anything I said?” Cas spoke up, interrupting your thoughts and pulling your attention away from the computer.

“No, yeah, sorry cas, what were you saying?”

“I was saying that I think Sam and Dean will be home today. Apparently Garth and a new guy made it to the scene before them, so they let them handle the case.”

You nodded letting him know you heard him, but your mind was going crazy and your eyesight instantly went back to the article in front of you.

“Parents of fifteen year old girl sentenced to 25 years in prison” and the article went on to list everything you testified against them for. You were humiliated that one of the boys were reading this, or even just the fact that they now knew this happened to you. You didn’t know what to do or how to react, so you simply closed the computer and made your way back to your room, not even thinking to say anything to Cas. The second your door closed, the second your pacing began. Who read the article? It had to be Sam. Dean was never too intuitive and gladly took your answer that your parents died as a final answer. Why was he searching about me to begin with? Did I tip him off about something? Is he going to bring this up to me? Am I going to have to talk about this again?

You fell back first onto your bed, allowing yourself to try and take deep breaths while you stared up at the ceiling. You always thought that the answer “they’re dead” when anyone asked you about your parents would’ve been enough, but maybe it wasn’t? Maybe the way you said it made Sam question that answer? You wanted to be sucked up in a hole, the scars on your body seemingly burning at the thought of having to talk about how they were placed there. You knew other people went through what you’ve gone through. Of course your parents aren’t the only abusive parents in the world, but they left you for dead. The beat you and cut you. They hurt you in every way and then just.... left. They didn’t care what happened to you after that last session. You were lucky that your neighbor even stopped by that same day to see you passed out on the living room floor. If it hadn’t been for her, you weren’t too sure that you would be where you are right now - alive.

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts, a soothing voice floating through, “y/n, are you alright?” It was cas. You wouldn’t doubt that he knows what happened to you, considering he was a literal angel, but he never made it obvious if he does. What he does make obvious is that he can pick up on your moods and that he knows when somethings wrong.

“I’m fine cas, just need to lay down for a bit,” you called out. You could sense him hesitate before a distant thud was sounded throughout the bunker. You knew that sound to be the door leading from the garage, and your dread began to turn into panic sweats. The sound of Cas’ footsteps furthered themselves, and you quickly got up to ensure your door was locked.

Considering the laptop had been sitting where it was for a few days when Sam and Dean had left originally, you didn’t know whether Sam had been thinking about it the entire time he was gone. Maybe he had forgotten and wasn’t going to bring it up, but you didn’t want him barging in when you were feeling as self conscious as you were right now. No matter what, you felt exposed, like you weren’t even wearing any clothes to begin with.

“Y/n are you in there? We’re back from the hunt,” it was Sam at your door this time. Your hands instinctively went to unlock your door out of habit of hearing his voice. Even when you were trying to avoid him, you physically couldn’t. You opened the door up enough to see his face, and enough for him to see yours. He offered you a slight smile, but you knew he had a lot to say by the way his eyes danced across your face and even willingly looking down towards your body. Was he thinking about what happened to you right this second? Was he envisioning what your body probably looks like thanks to the detailed article that he had read beforehand.

“Welcome back, how was it?” You offered up, bringing his attention back to your face that was glowing pink as the heat rushed throughout your body.

“Didn’t do much, Garth had beaten us to it, and honestly I just wanted to come back home,” he shrugged.

“Oh yeah? Why?” You asked. The second you did, you felt stupid. You knew why he wanted to come home.

“Can I come in? I mean, I don’t mind talking to what looks like a floating head, but I’d rather be comfortable sitting on your bed while having a full blown conversation,” he joked, pushing his hands into his pockets. Your mind blanked for a second before you slowly nodded, backing up to open the door up enough to let him in, and then closing it right after. He made himself comfortable, taking his shoes off before placing himself on your bed with his back rested against the headboard.

“I know what you want to talk about,” you blurted out, avoiding eye contact and beginning to grab the miscellaneous things around your room to begin to clean up. It was always a habit when you felt any type of discomfort, “you want to talk about my parents. I saw the article up on the laptop.”

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he sat up a bit, cross-crossing his legs and leaning forward more.

“I know I shouldn’t have searched you. I genuinely apologize for that. I could just... tell that you were hiding something. I could tell by how quickly you always turned the subject away when your parents were brought up. I guess I just got too curious for my own good.”

You nodded. You understood. For the most part, you were an open book, especially with Sam. He knew all you quirks and triggers. He knew you better than anyone else, you just thought you did a better job at hiding this one thing. Taking a chance, you looked up and made eye contact with him. He didn’t show pity like you expected and experienced from anyone who ever knew you after the incident happened. Instead you just saw comfort.

“They were assholes. Big, huge, assholes who in my opinion should rot in prison, but instead they are out in a measly fifteen years.”

“I can agree with you there,” he chuckled a bit, patting the bed next to him, indicating that he wanted you to sit next to him. You shook your head no, feeling your eyes start to well up with tears.

“I hate them, Sam. They left me so broken. They left me looking so troubled, so unloveable,” you whispered, breaking eye contact with him and opting to continue straightening things up around your room. You kept thinking internally, your sadness diminishing and your anger rising a bit. You turned back to Sam who was just watching your every move. You usually would’ve shied away from that, but this time was different.

Without any thought or hesitation, you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in a pair of leggings and your bra.

“Oh god,” he whispered, seeing your bare body for the first time. In fact, he was one of the first people to truly see your body other than the multiple nurses and doctors that treated you after the incident, “what did they do to you?”

It was that moment that you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders. The way his eyes were gentle as they looked over your entire frame, not an ounce of judgement seeping into you skin, just carefulness and genuine sorrow.

“They did a lot, but I’m still alive. I’m here, I’m healthy, I’m loved, and I’m alive. That’s all that matters.” I murmured, throwing my shirt back on before taking up his earlier offer of sitting next to him, “I know I could’ve told you the truth earlier, I just prefer to not talk about it anymore. It’s painful.”

“That’s understandable, y/n. And again, I’m sorry for snooping into it, but I don’t regret knowing. You’re so strong, and I’m so glad you’re here - alive and healthy,” you nodded, allowing him to grab you into a hug, pulling you into his lap. You chuckled a bit at the strength he formed around you, before pulling away a bit and looking at him, “I love you, and I’m so glad you came into my life. Even though your parents are going to be out of jail one day, that doesn’t ensure that a tragic accident may not happen to them,” he smiled at his own words, sending a louder laugh out of your mouth.

“I love you, too, moose. Thank you.”

[goldentsum]

━ socs and greasers

CHARACTERS: kuroo tetsurou and oikawa tooru

GENRE: fluff, a little angst

AUTHOR’S NOTE: oikawa’s a bit longer! i got too excited while writing this cus i rewatched ‘the outsiders’ soooo yeah,, here~

━ kuroo ♡

a gREASER WITHOUT A DOUBT! CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM WITH SLEEK HAIR AND SPORTING LEATHER OR DENIM AND THAT COCKY SMIRK ON HIS FACE---

ahem i mean yeah kuroo tetsurou is most definitely a greaser

Kuroo always scares those socs half to death with his tall height and intimidating aura but tbh he’s a softie

Though he won’t lie that the leather and denim aesthetic was kinda his style and scaring socs was too amusing for him

He most def has a busted second-handed car that he bought with his own money cus his parents doesn’t give a shit to even give him money

He lives with himself now as he run away from the dysfunctional family he had because he’s gonna go crazy if he hears another full blown fight his parents always has

I headcanon his s/o to be a soc and his childhood friend along with kenma, whos a greaser omg

You’re the daughter of a huge businessman who always leaves you on your own most of the time

you became friends with kuroo and kenma when yall met in the vacant lot with the two sporting bruises which made your motherly instincts go haywire even at a young age

Before you and kuroo became a thing, he was just admiring you from a far cus you’re a soc and he’s a dirty greaser but you always remind him that you really don’t really care about that

though kuroo doesn’t really wanna mix you up with his problems,, afraid that someone might hurt you,, soft boy :((

You were just too good to him that it hurts... you always make sure he has enough food in his house, always patching him up after a brawl, always making sure he’s okay, and just always there for him...

with you being like that,, kuroo can’t help but fall...

After accepting the fact that you were no longer the sister he always thought he’d have and that he started to see you more as a woman,, he started being softer, noticing certain quirks and features he didn’t see before,, while being a bit awkward because he doesn’t know how to act really

Kenma always catch kuroo staring at you which he always call him out about

“you’re staring awfully obvious there”

“shut up, kenma... i wasn’t starin”

he totally was pft

And it might not look like it but kuroo is really good at school! he has the best grades in his class and he’s hella cocky about it, rubbing it on the poor socs’ faces in his class

He even tutors you cus you were flanking chem :DDD fUN

Kuroo loves spending time with you! even if it’s just some tutor session but it always ends up with you pouting because you can’t understand it and him getting a headache at the amount of times he repeated it already

One night, he was out riding in his car, pouty that he didn’t see you for about a week now

Then he saw you getting ganged up by 3 taller socs at the street and he was LIVID god help those socs

He just stopped his car and run up to them, punching them without any warning,,, His tall and muscular stature helping him,, he won at the end but they got a number on him ngl which you were angry about

“Why would you do something as stupid as this, Tetsu?!”

“It ain’t stupid, doll... just wanna make sure you’re alright”

“You’re so stupid.... but.. thank you, tetsu...”

god he loves the way you say his name like that

“Well, i can’t have my girl get disrespected by those shitty--”

“your girl?” 

You were staring at Kuroo with a soft gleam inside your eyes

Kuroo just wanted the ground to swallow him up and die,, why the fuck did he just say that?!--

“That sounds nice... I like it...” You said after seeing kuroo’s internal monologue, giggling softly

Kuroo sighed in huge relief, cupping your cheek with his coarse hand that felt so familiar to you

Touching your forehead with his, “It’s official then. You’re my girl”

“Yeah... but first let’s clean up your beaten up face”

of course... it really won’t be you without you ruining the moment but kuroo won’t have it any other way

━ oikawa ♡

a SOC AND HE’S ONE OF THOSE ARROGANT LITTLE SHITS!

He is fILtHY RiCh! fILTHYYY!!

has a reputation about being a flirt with his pretty face

Oikawa: it’s just a struggle being this pretty~ aND I’M RICH TOO sigh

IWA IS SO DONE WITH HIM PLEASE HELP THIS BOI

A well known jock who gets all the girls with his charms and a flirty smile on his face

Oikawa knows how well he got people wrapped around his finger and he feeds off the power he has

Loves shopping and spending money on useless shit he won’t even use,, he’s unafraid to sPEND cus it’s not like it’ll dent his bank account

aND ALSO BECAUSE HE AIN’T WEARING THOSE UGLY KHAKIS! NO WAY IN HELL! he did once though and iwa, makki, and matsun made fun of him

NOW HOW YALL MET IS SO FUN

You’re a greaser, a terrifying one at that

Your group was in the movie drivethru with your busted cars and leather and denim clothes

aND Lo and behold he’s also there,, though he’s with a date and Iwa, Matsun, and Makki were tagging along

a brawl start up with your group and some socs AND OIKAWA HAS TO SEE THIS DRAMA

He wanted to look good to his date so he went and tried to be the “hero” and stop the brawl

You got irritated and punched him right on his nose surprising him and knocking him off his feet

IWA, MATSUN, AND MAKKI WERE LAUGHING THEIR ASSES CUS THAT WAS THE BEST THING THEY JUST SAW

Oikawa stared up at you, nose aching and bleeding, wide teary eyes from the pain

And you stared down at him, a deadly glare on your face as you tugged on your leather jacket, scoffing at the soc

Your group quickly left when someone called the cops,, yall ain’t going to prison now,, nope

Oikawa was left there, sitting on the dirty ground with his nose bleeding and welling up eyes,, It took Makki and Matsun to help him up with Iwa staring at him like, are you okay, dude tf?

“I think I’m in love”

Now that was not what they were expecting, they expected something extra but definitely not that kind of extra,,

His date got irritated at that and dumped her drink at his feet, stomping away but Oikawa barely flinch,, too occupied in his thoughts on who you were

He spend an entire week looking for you because he just can’t get you out of his mind,, you were the first girl to ever pull a stunt like that and it was amusing masochistic bastard

When he finally saw you, you were in a diner with your group and his heart got all fluttery and shit and he got scared because tHAT WAS UNUSUAL! WTF WAS THAT FLUTTERY FEELING?!

He mustered up all the courage he had and marched up to the table, looking straight at you,, barely looking at anyone else

You raised a brow at the familiar brunette but you couldn’t really place your finger on where you’ve seen him then it hit you,, yOU HIT HIM LAST WEEK,, STRAIGHT IN HIS NOSE and the redness on his nose was evidence enough

You started to speak cus what if this soc get you arrested like nope you ain’t having that,, “Look dude, I don’t want any trouble--”

“Go on a date with me” 

Your whole table was laughing at you making you fluster up in embarrassment cus wtf is with this weird guy,, you punch him then a week later he shows up claiming he wants to go on a date with you???

oH this was pay back,, okay you got it

tHAT WAS YOU THOUGHT IT WAS BUT OIKAWA REALLY PERSISTENT,, ALWAYS APPEARING AND ASKING YOU ON A DATE,, REJECTION AFTER REJECTION the guy just won’t stop

Finally, you agreed! Oikawa can’t stop giggling on the way home and got already took out multiple outfits for your date

On the day of your date, he was immaculate with his outfit! He also fixed his already perfect hair and got to the place where you guys will meet up at half an hour early with a bouquet of flowers in hand,, he was that excited!

but 2 hours already passed and you were no where to be seen... D; did you just stood him up? aND WORSE OF ALL IT STARTED RAINING ruining his outfit and hair and making the flowers in his hand all soggy and gross

Oikawa slumped on the the fountain, sAD AS FUCK

while you were snickering in your car driving on the opposite side of town but then a punch of guilt made way to your gut...

what if he waited there?.... and its raining...

goddammit,, and like that your car turned around and drove to the park where you and oikawa planned to meet up.

You stopped the car in front of the fountain and your heart shattered when you saw the familiar sitting figure on the fountain in the pouring rain.

“fucking hell, this idiot”

You stomped your way to him, your leather jacket on your head trying to shield yourself in the harsh rain and stopped in front of the soc

“You’re late...” His croaky voice was really not helping your guilt,, fucking hell...

“tch... Let’s go idiot!” You pulled him up and dragged him in your car

There was tense air inside the car with you grumbling on your seat and Oikawa pouting sadly on his, slumping more

“Look... I’m sorry about this... I’m sure you’re a nice guy,, i think... L-Let’s start over, yeah?”

Oikawa perked up and looked at you at the corner of his eyes,, he hated the fact that he was happy rn... he was supposed to be mad at you,, he waited 3 hours for you and an hour in the rain, hoping you’ll come to him

“Fine... but you owe me one!”

“yeah yeah, idiot soc”

[fairycosmos]

chloe what do you do when you feel really suicidal? but like not like before- but NOW that you are grieving such a painful loss? dont need to answer but i read your a. to the anon that felt trapped and like they couldnt leave now bc their sibling died too and like you and that anon i feel the same. im so so suicidal chloe. i cry every day and night and i feel despertate but my parents just lost their child so. how do you cope... as much as its possible. what do we do? fuck.

dude i am so sorry you're in the same position as me and you are going to hate me for saying it but there is no satisfactory answer 😔 it's a cruel joke. we're in the worst pain we've ever been in, and our instinct is to want to make that stop. but we can't because now we're obligated to stay alive, where all the hurt is, because we're one of the only ones left. and we dont want to cause more of this feeling by ending it all. it's like a contract you didn't agree to and are now trapped in for the foreseeable. grief is the absolute heaviest thing a person can carry, it's a fucking nightmare. it doesn't make any sense, it doesn't have a cure and it's disorienting as fuck. it's ok to be exhausted by it. reality has been irreparably  worsened and it's an absolute tragedy,  it's completely unfair. personally i'm more suicidal than i've ever been, but like you, i know i'm not going to do anything.  and in moments of great pain, where i want to act on those thoughts, i find myself coming back to that fact. i watch the idea of suicide run its course through my head and then i acknowledge the reality of things, that i can't leave. that it doesn't matter how sad i am and how tired i am, because i'm still here, and processing these emotions is a part of that. the urge to kill myself is there, but the actual act of suicide has never been less of an option than it is right now. so i can feel whatever i need to feel, but there's no point leaning into it or daydreaming about it. because it's not going to happen. sometimes i'm screaming and crying to myself in absolute agony while this is all going on, and sometimes i'm just sitting staring at my phone, numb. the desperation is very real, and i understand that. but it is not as urgent as it feels in the moment. no matter how many times i think i'm at my limit, i know that there's going to be tomorrow. and at the moment that sounds like a really bad thing. but i know that by waking up my parents aren't getting a call saying i'm dead, which for now is kind of the whole point. i am living to minimize their trauma, i am living for them, and an optimist would have hope that that could keep me alive long enough until i get to the point where i can eventually live for myself again. i could definitely see that for your future, even if you can't. the thing is you don't have to know what to do and you dont have to look for ways to fill the void that has been left behind by your sibling. you just have to learn to exist alongside it, and i do mean just exist. as awful as it is. waking up, putting one foot in front of the other, crying and crying and crying. that is good enough. i know it doesn't feel like much of a life, but. it's the short term answer, or so it seems to me. another thing i remind myself of is how it all comes in waves. waves are the nature of both grief, and strong suicidal urges. maybe they're always running in the background, but the moments of pure despair where you feel like you're bursting at the seams, they're so strong and harsh that they flare out faster than you realize. and they feel unbearable, and i know those moments are very frequent when you're in our position, but it's good to remember that the intensity of their nature makes them temporary.  especially if the grief is fresh, every little thing triggers an avalanche of hopelessness.  but some part of me believes these experiences will either a. become less persistent with time or b. become a part of us we learn how to navigate.  at the moment, the simple act of being completely broken by these episodes means you're surviving them. i think it's not a matter of knowing how to cope, but knowing that if you're here to ask these questions - what do i do, how do i go on, etc - then that is proof you have been coping. and it probably doesn't feel like you have been. i think there's a common misconception that coping is thriving, letting go, having positive memories. and sure that's a part of it. but there is a lot of darkness and absolute horror to work through before that. additionally,  there is no rule book on how exactly to work through it. theres just time, experience, learning what works for you and hanging on. i'm trying to hold my own hand through it, i'm trying to look at the present moment i'm in and just think about what i need at that very second.  not what i'm going to do tomorrow, not what i should've done yesterday, but what i have to do right now to make it through.  a lot of the time the answer is nothing, and i just sit and stare or cry, because like i said, ultimately nothing can fix it. theres no epiphany that can change what happened. 

as far as practical things you can to do combat suicidal thoughts goes, i have a few suggestions that i really hope you consider as viable choices: talk to your doctor/therapist - idk where you live or what your financial situation is like, but if it's at all an option i would really urge you to seek professional help. at least let your GP know what you're dealing with so maybe they can refer you to a therapist, or give you some mental health resources. grief counselling is also a step in the right direction. having someone to talk to and implementing positive coping mechanisms into your day to day life, even if it's the last thing on earth you want to do, can work wonders. understanding your own suicidal thoughts, why you react the way you do and what you can do about it, can really come in handy when you're breaking down. it's ok to reach out. it's ok to visit different counsellors until you find one that fits you. it's ok to treat your emotional turmoil as seriously as you'd treat any physical disease. there is always support and treatment options available in some form, and it is always worth looking into.

call a (grief or suicide) hotline - i've had the hotline number open in my browser for days. if you are in a moment of crisis, it can absolutely help to have someone talk you through your emotions, listen to your pain, and then give you some gentle recommendations as to what you should do next or where to go from here. you don't have to tell them your name, you don't have to say anything you don't want to say. you're in control of the call and they care about keeping you going. you're not alone. theres also online grief support groups - i'm in a sibling loss group on fb.  it's absolutely crazy how many people are in this position. 

talk to your parents/family/friends - i know saying 'this is a tough one' is a giant understatement.  idk if it's the same for you, but i've been isolating to cope and i don't want to tell anyone what i'm thinking because they're already having such a hard time grieving my sister. but if there's anyone you trust, i just want you to know it's alright to lean on them. it's up to you how much you open up, but the urge to keep to yourself leads nowhere. those around you can relate (to an extent) with your grief, and sharing it, talking about memories and crying together - it's fucking awful, god it's the worst thing ever, but it's necessary. and i don't want to say it helps, but a shared burden is always better than trying to shoulder it alone. you deserve to be listened to and supported. and if you think you're being an inconvenience to your loved ones, that's your inner self hatred talking. they would likely rather be there for you when you need it, than have you harm yourself because you kept it all pent up. it's a lot easier said than done, but it's important to keep in mind that it's an option.

try to create a safe space - try to remove things from your living space you could use to harm yourself with, and make the environment as comforting as possible. refer back to safe coping mechanisms/ distractions that have worked in the past - this can be as simple as going for a walk, watching stupid shit on your phone, meditation, having a crying session, writing to your sibling or just about how you feel in general. these are not suggestions that will solve anything or cure mental illness by any stretch of the imagination.  they just get you out of your head. that can really make a difference. 

create a crisis plan and learn what triggers you - this is a bit of a process but that's alright. being able to identify what sets you off, and being able to recognize your own toxic thinking patterns/behaviours, is the first step towards combatting them. another idea is, if you do end up talking to a loved one or a mental health professional, come up with a plan with them regarding what they should do when you're suicidal and your judgement is impaired. you can even start by just making one for yourself, like writing down a few suggestions as to what you should do when you're in a crisis, what your other options besides suicide are. 

i think that's all i've got right now. i'm sorry this got so long, especially when i know nothing truly helps. i just know what it's like having all this useless life in front of you that you're going to have to fight through without the one person who always should've been there. i keep thinking about what she'd say to me if she could see me, and i know she'd be livid if i threw my life away, but. that doesn't change the fact that she didn't get to live hers, and that i miss her so so much it aches. i keep coming back to the idea that our relationship will continue to grow beyond  death. i can still talk to her, reminisce  with her, understand her, love her. so much of this reality was shaped by her. it's not the same as when she was here, but it's not total absence  either.  anyway, i'm so so sorry for your loss and i hope you can just focus on taking care of yourself, love. because your life still has so much worth and you deserve to see your own future even if you cant stand the thought. moments of happiness and peace are still 100% possible. it's just never going to feel like it did before. and it's ok if you spend the rest of your life struggling to come to terms with that fact, because at least you got to live the rest of your life. i'm sending so much love to you and i'll be here if you need a friend. one day at a time.

*no pressure to read all this you can just refer back to it whenever you feel the need

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Passion Project (1/4)

Summary:

"Ignoring Hange Zoe had become a little passion project he allowed himself to indulge in, in between expeditions and quietly mourning unnecessary deaths in the battlefield."

Levi tries to ignore Hange but it never seems to last. A ficlet detailing the development of Levi and Hange's relationship before canon.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters:  2 3 4

Notes:  

Just a little character study and a cumulation of all my headcanons about their relationship all the way until Eren joins the survey corps.

I intended on just making a one shot of Levi being jealous or Hange and Levi having a silent treatment battle but this story ended up morphing into its own ficlet when I realized that it wouldn't be so easy to write either of them into canon without detailing the whole development of their relationship from my own headcanon.

I hope you enjoy!

Levi was trained to resolve conflict with his fists and occasionally, with his knives. Having lived as a criminal in the underground city, he did not encounter many problems that could not be resolved with a little intimidation or bloodshed. Among his gang, most people below him never really protested his decisions. Farlan was too level-headed to let anything reach a point where violence became a necessity, thus nipping most conflicts in the bud before Levi had to deal with them himself.

With his moving above ground, Levi had to adapt to a far more rigid system. Violence and intimidation among fellow soldiers was not as easily tolerated and Levi had lost his only two weapons against conflict. With Farlan dead soon after, Levi was left to navigate his own way through social situations and the problems that inevitably came with them.

The first conflict Levi was left to handle alone came in the form of one Hange Zoe.

"Hey Levi! Teach me that thing where you flip and speed up with your ODM gear." She was the first one to approach him about his skills.

By that point, he had still been reeling from Farlan and Isabel's death. He was in no mood for socialization and didn't think he would ever be. He just stared at her as he tried to make sense of the situation and the emotions that built up inside him.

The demand came out of nowhere. He was mourning and someone was outright asking him to take time out of his schedule and to dig for some patience within him to teach someone something he himself did not know the mechanisms of. She was neither a sleazy drunkard, a thief nor a murderer yet Levi for the first time since he joined the survey corps was terribly annoyed and disturbed at the audacity of the demand and the insensitivity of the timing.

The rigid structure of the survey corps and the somewhat innocent yet annoying request of the young girl in front of him left Levi utterly confused on how he was supposed to react.

He found himself scrambling for the simplest way to react to such a stimulus while keeping faithful to his personality and social preferences that had grown on him as a criminal in the underground. Having let his instincts take over, he froze up and walked away, ignoring the protests of that crazy brunette.           

                                             Passion Project

Levi found remaining silent and just walking away to be an effective way to handle her. She was insistent, tenacious and just way too loud. Levi ended up having to close his eyes when she whined, begging him to show her how his weird grip manages to slice harder than the average grip or how he manages to maintain enough balance to fall back in mid air without completely losing control. 

As time went by, Hange's voice started to sound more like screeching to him. The high pitched whining morphed into the pain for the beginnings of a headache and Levi eventually had to learn to tune it out to save himself from that potential pain.

During those few moments where Levi allowed himself to think of Hange, he could not help but infer that that strong combination of tenacity and confidence may be that of someone who had grown up always getting what they want. Levi would have bet with all the money he had saved up since he had started to live above ground that Hange had never known hunger or deprivation. He decided for himself out of spite, that he would never give her the attention she craved so much from him.

A lesson on real life then. Levi thought in an attempt to make sense of his past actions and to placate the knot at the pit of his stomach. Someone has to teach her that she can't always get what she wants.

The brief thought morphed into a plan. Levi had somehow stumbled upon the conclusion that maybe he having had to struggle with depravity and poverty growing up, could teach her about the unfairness of life. In the end, ignoring Hange Zoe had become a little passion project he had allowed himself to indulge in, in between expeditions and quietly mourning unnecessary deaths in the battlefield.

A few months after Isabel's and Farlan's deaths, Levi encountered the first obstacle in his little passion project when he unwillingly gave Hange the attention she craved so much.

Technically, he did have a choice. The alternative was to watch her get eaten by a three meter class titan. Having lost as many people growing up, Levi was motivated to prevent as much unnecessary death as possible. Besides, being eaten by the smallest and weakest class of titan was just too pathetic of a way to die.      

Slightly bitter about how he had broken his small promise to himself even if it was to save her life, Levi made it a point to ignore her incessant thank-yous, praises and overall enthusiasm at the whole ordeal.

"You fucking almost died. You're not supposed to be this fucking happy," Levi muttered to himself, only fueling the motivation inside him to continue his little challenge of never talking to Hange again.

That second challenge did not last long and Levi wanted to punch himself because of how easily he had let go of all the pride, spite and bitterness he had allowed himself to build up. All Hange needed to do was knock on the door to his now empty room in the barracks with a pack of what looked to be some high-end black tea with the familiar logo of the royal family.

Levi had seen that tea traded a few times around the underground city. Even with the work he had done as a criminal, that brand was just too expensive for him to procure without blowing the modest reputation he had kept for himself for more than a decade

"Just a little token for saving me." Hange grinned. The gratefulness looked too genuine.

Levi had to look away. For one, he did not want to feel anything but annoyance at the woman who had made his first month in the survey corps a living hell. Also, for the life of him, Levi could not tell what kind of face he made when he saw the pouch in Hange's hands.  

"My parents brought some back when they came for a visit and I remember you mentioning that you liked tea…" The grateful smile of a moment ago morphed into a fox-like grin.

That was a lie. He never told anyone he liked tea let alone, had talked to anyone long enough to even disclose parts of his personality. That first part had sent some alarm bells ringing inside him but those were easily overpowered by the sheer wonder that overtook Levi as Hange held out the tea pouch in front of him. He was about to grab it for himself when Hange pulled it back towards her again.

"I actually haven't tried it in a while. We should try it together." With that, Hange forced her way into the small crack between Levi and his room and set up the kettle and tea cups as if they were not precious wares Levi had spent months saving up on.

Levi did not think he would have ever allowed his private space and belongings to be completely defiled, especially by the last person he had ever expected to have tea with. At that moment though, Levi felt no irritation. It was as if his whole being had decided before he even processed what Hange just did, that tasting that high end brand of black tea was most likely going to be worth it anyway.

                                        Passion Project         

That was the best black tea he had ever tasted in his life. It was good enough that Levi had started to think that maybe, getting to know her would not be such an excruciatingly painful process and that suspending his little passion project for a little while might be a good idea.

At least long enough to finish that bag of tea she left in my room. Levi thought to himself as he accompanied an excited Hange to the wooded area near the barracks for some ODM gear training. All he had to do was imagine the aroma of the tea as he steeped it and he usually gained a day’s worth of patience to deal with the brunette.

The first thing he ever made sure to drill her on was how to quickly take control of momentum so she could easily fall back in mid air to avoid being grabbed by the titans. With that he could at least make sure what happened in the last expedition wouldn’t happen again.

They had started their little training session at 5pm, right after their official survey corps training ended. Levi had expected that they would at least make it by sundown. Hange though ended up milking that one-on-one like a milkman to a fattened cow. She brought up questions about his movements that even Levi had to stop and reflect on.

How did you learn to use this underground?

Where did you get the gas?

How do you get the momentum to even spin your body?

How do you slice so deep while moving quickly?

Levi had started to answer all of those only to be interrupted every time with a different question. That day they had only scratched the surface of every question and Levi was sure Hange had only satisfied herself with her own theories for it. The questions though had left Levi enough to reflect on. He decided to use the remaining trainings he had promised her to at least explain them to Hange, after he figures it out for himself at least.

By the time they did get back, everyone else had already had dinner and Levi was forced to spend an extra one hour alone in the dining hall just to satisfy hunger pangs.

"You know, during the last expedition, I kicked a Titan's head so hard…"

"Hm?" Levi muttered as he looked for something else in the bare room to amuse himself with. He needed a break.

"And I didn't break my leg!"

Levi raised one eyebrow in reply, having given up on finding anything else to follow in the bare dining room. Most of the soldiers had probably retired to their room. It was past nine after all and they had to be awake by five.

"It was so light! To think that those giants have such light body parts! Where is the brain? Where is their olfactory system? Their auditory system? Their sensory pathways?"

The scientific blabber made it easier for Levi to tune out.

"Levi!"

It didn't seem like she had noticed that he had tuned her out for a few seconds. As Levi looked up at her, a natural reaction to having heard his name, he saw sparks in her eyes. She was in her own world already.

"If we study their anatomy, their movements maybe we could find more efficient ways to kill them, minimize casualties"

That would be nice. Levi thought to himself as he continued to look away, sneaking a side glance every few seconds. He had started to give her his full attention around the part where she had mentioned weaknesses and casualties. He was reminded there that they were both working towards fundamentally similar goals --- killing titans and avoiding unnecessary deaths.

The black tea that he had so carefully rationed saw its eventual end but surprisingly, Levi was not too devastated at the loss.  As the days went by, he had stopped imagining the aroma of the tea anyway. The one who had given him the tea had offered experiences more lasting and more interesting than the quick release the bitter yet malty black tea had given him for many nights.

Hange offered novelty, amusement and company. In the midst of repetitive training and depressing expeditions, she offered experimental ideas and crackpot theories. She spoke with more than enough enthusiasm that when Levi was with her, sometimes he did forget that they were all one misstep away from a dismembered limb or death by titan with every expedition.

The breaks they had spent exchanging ODM gear techniques and strategies in fights against titans had become a constant in Levi's daily life. While he had helped build Hange's skill with the ODM gear, she had brought her own expertise and in-depth analyses to the table.

As time passed, he had completely forgotten as well, that she was the one who had asked him to teach her in the first place. Hange's words were the ones that echoed as he went through the same repetitive drills every day. Even as he practiced with his gear side by side with her, it was her theories that fueled the image training with the titan dummies. 

His fighting style slowly started to change as it was peppered with the theories Hange had pointed out about titans. The mad scientist ended up teaching him. 

                                       Passion Project      

They were on their way home from the 25th expedition outside the walls when the squad Levi was assigned to encountered three large titans.                            

The first plan was to just speed up since the wall was already visible from where they had encountered the titans. Usually two squads together were needed to even kill that many large titans. Smaller titans were also starting to notice them as well.

Their forces had already dissipated through other battles and to make it worse, two of the titans were abnormal and were much faster than the others. Given that he was the only one in his squad uninjured, Levi had resigned himself to the fact that he had to fight.

"I'll take it from here. You go on ahead." Levi shouted as he slowed his horse. Before even looking behind him, he started to consider the theoretical weaknesses of the titans and the strategy he and Hange had spent nights studying.

One misstep and you're dead. Levi readied his blades. It would be the first time he'd have to deal with three large titans at once and he had to ready himself for the fact that other titans could come sooner. If he could not kill them all, he could at least buy enough time for his squad to reach the walls.

What did Hange say about titans?

For three to six meter titans, I'm sure with your speed you could easily go for the neck. I'm much slower so I would have to incapacitate them first.

Levi was already exhausted from the expedition and he decided to err on the side of caution.

Hange's words echoed in his head. I was thinking if I encountered a titan alone, I'd try to go for maybe the eyes or the arms first so at least I wouldn't be scared of them grabbing on to the cords of my ODM.  

Eyes or arms? Levi thought to himself as he allowed the ODM gear to propel him towards the nearest titan. He focused on what he did best, he dodged as soon as he saw the hands move to grab him and he let that movement and the force of the gas to launch him up and take him to whatever his next target might be.

The eyes of the titan came into clear view. He pushed himself forward and dug his blades into the titans eyes. He used that few seconds of respite to replace his blades midair. The titan continued to flail its arms towards Levi and the latter could not help but note that if it moved much faster than a lot of other titans. He had pulled back his grappling hooks, not wanting to risk it getting grabbed by the abnormal.

The titan couldn't see him. He had time.

You could probably immobilize a titan by cutting their Achilles. I don't know if I would be able to make that same cut though. It's a joint so it's gonna be harder than most areas.

As soon as Levi landed on the ground he dashed for the legs of the titan right behind the first one.

How do you slice so deep while moving so quickly?

Hange was right. The titan's muscle was notably harder at the back of the ankle. If he had sliced any lighter, he probably would not have been able to cut all the way.

The second titan fell forward on top of the blinded titan. He had bought himself some more time.

Levi ran forward towards the last large titan, cutting the Achilles tendons of smaller ones as he did. It was not an abnormal at least. Levi aimed his hooks towards the titans arm and launched himself towards the arm, using it as an axis to maneuver himself towards the back of the neck.

It was when Levi launched himself up did he notice that less gas than what he had expected was coming out.

You use too much gas. Erwin had said to him only a few expeditions ago.

Maneuvering came naturally for Levi but every now and then he did forget he was at the mercy of the amount of gas he had at each fight. In the underground, the gas lasted him weeks, his enemies were human after all and the gas was only used for escape.

Having to constantly propel himself into the air meant he had to resupply twice to thrice an expedition. Levi forced himself to ignore the lightened cannisters at his side and narrowed his eyes at the nape of the neck that was coming into view.

Kill the titan first. Gas later.

Levi pushed forward towards the neck, pierced his blades on the nape and heavily dragged it over the whole area. He might not have a second chance if the cut was too shallow.  

Can I make it? Levi scrambled to look for his horse in the steam that surrounded him. He did not have enough gas to land safely and instead used the titan he just killed to cushion his landing.

A smaller hand appeared from the steam and grab him. Levi let out a gasp as he felt the full force of the squeeze on his ribs.

I'm not dying here! Levi sliced open the hand with a spinning motion. His body protested the sudden movement  and Levi wondered for a second how many ribs the titan had cracked. He found his horse grazing west to the sea of steam as he landed. On his way down though, he had to dodge the hand of a smaller titan causing him to land awkwardly on his left foot.

Fucking hell. Levi ran towards his horse ignoring the stabbing pain on his left ankle. To hell with that ankle, I can't recover if I'm dead.

Levi only had to ride the horse and speed up before another hand grabbed him from behind. Once again, the titan had no regard of how hard it was holding its prey and Levi started to taste blood as his ribs protested the grip of the titan.

How long can I keep doing this? Levi spun himself again, slicing the hand open despite his body screaming at him to stop.

What happened after that was a blur. The exhaustion that built up over the expedition and his most recent injuries overpowered him. Levi could not even maneuver his body to a safer less fatal landing from a ten meter drop.

He closed his eyes, expecting to feel the impact of a headfirst fall only to instead feel the searing pain of a disturbed injury as someone looped their arms around him too roughly.

"There you are, Levi!"

The last thing he heard was the familiar overly excited scream he had grown accustomed to the past year.

"I knew slicing at their ankles would work!"

[groovybaybee]

Greener - IV

I, II, III

(4k)

cw: mentions of abuse (nothing too intense but better safe than sorry), alcohol consumption

I am in the ocean. The water is warm and comforting as it hugs up against me with each gentle wave. It is calm and peaceful and in turn I am calm. I am in the ocean and I am calm.

 You’re in your kitchen.

“Fuck off,” I whisper, eyes squeezed tightly shut as if they could shield me from the reality of the voice in my head.

 I am in the ocean.

 BUZZ

 I ignore it.

 I am in—

 BUZZ

 BUZZ

 With a deep exhale, I open my eyes and face the brutal reality that the unkind voice lingering in my brain had been right. I am in my kitchen. The bright smiling faces tacked to the walls seem to mock me as I desperately try to regulate the rise and fall of my chest. My lungs unaware that I am not in the middle of a hundred-metre sprint and can probably relax a little.

 Against my better judgment, I pick up the phone that had caused me to spiral in the first place. Quickly, I close Twitter, wishing I had never let myself fall down the thread of comments. I had known it would only cause me to panic but, almost masochistically, I did it anyway.

 Thought I was supposed to be the one organising collaborations with big artists?? Nice work kiddo. Response to the video is pretty good so I can look into booking some studio sessions…

 My focus falls away from my manager’s message. Of course, he saw this as a positive thing. It is a positive thing, really. Only a crazy person would find discomfort in their dream career being boosted along. This is the kind of thing I have always wanted. I want to make music. I want to have people see me and connect with me. But now that the opportunity is there all that I feel is fear.

 You always were ungrateful.

 For once, I do not try to argue with the bad part of my brain. I am ungrateful. How could someone get what they want and find reasons to still be the victim? I do not deserve any of this. How could I, in the sea of so many, be lucky enough to find traction in this industry? Yet all I want to do is run.

 It is not even as though all of the new feedback is negative. To a degree, it would be understandable to want to run away were that the case. No, people were actually incredibly supportive of Harry and I’s impromptu duet. Complimentary even. I should be jumping for joy, but instead I find myself clutching for the countertop beneath me to tether me to the Earth.

 Instinctively, I reach for my phone again, quickly dialling the first number I can think to.

 “Hello lovely lady,” Lucy answers brightly.

 “Luce,” I gasp, mouth remaining open but unable to find the words as my throat seems to tighten up.

 “What’s wrong?” she asks, suddenly serious and I can picture her sat bolt upright. When I can’t formulate a reply, she speaks for me, “Are you at home? I’ll come over.”

 “Yeah.” I manage to breathe out.

 Time seems to warp as I listen to the background noise of Lucy buckling herself into her car and taking the short trip to my house. Only when I hear her set of keys in the lock do I hang up the call, something about her presence comforting me even through the phone.

 “Let’s sit down, yeah?” Lucy says when she sees my face, undoubtedly wide-eyed as gravely breathes pass quickly between my lips.

 She places a hand on my back and eases me away from the counter until my body meets the soft embrace of the sofa.

 “Count to ten with me?”

 Her voice is gentle and reassuring as she watches me, no doubt assessing how severe my state is and which battleplan she needs to access in order to help me calm down.

 When I nod, she waits for me to utter a shaky and broken, “One,” before repeating it and moving from the sofa.

 “Two,” she encourages.

 She opens a window and moves back to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water as I reach “Four.”

 We count together until we reach ten. Not unlike the other times we have done this, she waits for a moment as she observes if I need to start again, or if I am suitably calm enough for her to move on to the next step in her care plan. Deciding on the latter, she passes me the glass of water.

 Gratefully, I take a slow sip.

 “Want to talk or want distracting?”

 “I feel…” I start quietly, uncertain as a sigh passes my lips, “I feel ungrateful and a bit overwhelmed.”

 Lucy just nods. No judgment in her gaze as she digests my words. They dissipate into the air of the living room, sinking into the furniture and slipping under the tape of the unopened moving box in the corner.

 “Is this about the video? Because if it is I’m so sorry for posting it, I just thought you two sounded so good and fit so great together and maybe you’d get a bit more recognition which you deserve completely and—”

 “Lu,” I sigh with a small smile as she rambles apologetically. I pull her into a hug which neither of us expect. “I love you so much. You always know what’s right and you go out and do it. I’m just a bit batshit at the minute and can’t accept the good in things.”

 “I love you.” Lucy mutters into my hair.

 We sit for a while, arms wrapped tightly around one another, swaying slightly. Neither of us want to be the first to move, simultaneously needing to provide comfort and bathe in it. A smile fixes itself on my lips, one Lucy has always been capable of coaxing from me, even during my worst nights. But that is exactly the reason the smile carves its way on to my cheeks; it’s us. It has always been Lucy and me and it will be Lucy and me until our arms can’t hug and our lungs can’t laugh.

 “I think,” I say softly, resentfully pulling away from our embrace, “it’s time to go through his stuff.”

 Lucy nods, eyes a little watery. She sniffles once and that is enough to settle her.

 “Shall I get wine?”

 I cannot help the small bubble of laughter that bursts between my lips, but I nod, nonetheless. We move to set about our own tasks; Lucy gets a bottle of Shiraz and pours two glasses as I pull the, ever so slightly dusty, cardboard box into the centre of the room and peel away the tape sealing it.

 I wait for her to return before opening the flaps, needing her next to me more than I could ever admit. Not that I would have to. She gives me a reassuring squeeze on the arm when she notices my sharp intake of air.

 No going back. I force myself to believe that and open the box.

 Peering into the box, it is less full than I remember, and that in itself pushes me along. On the top, lay a few t-shirts he did not come to collect. I place them in a pile on the living room floor, mentally noting it as one to donate. Beneath the shirts are a collection of photographs, some loose and some framed. Lucy stills beside me, nervously awaiting my tears. They would not come just yet. I remember placing the most upsetting things at the bottom. My heart clenches at the thought of seeing them again, but I push ahead.

 I flick through the photographs, placing the newly empty frames to the other side of the box. It is not nearly as saddening as I had expected. Being able to pass over a timeline of our relationship is almost cathartic, knowing that I do not have to wait weeks and months between these happy memories captured in film.

 “I loved that jacket.” Lucy says softly as we peer at a picture of my ex-boyfriend and I at the beach one night.

 “So did I,” I smile, fingers running lightly over the glossy image, a bright red faux leather jacket which matched my painted smile. “Will didn’t.”

 Lucy’s body slumps beside me and I feel the angry starting to stir inside of her. I put the stack of photos on the floor, deciding not to keep any, and peak back into the box. I can hardly help the laugh that rises from my chest when I see the next item. Not from joy, but from its sheer ridiculousness. My hands reach into the cardboard and pull from it a bathroom scale.

 “You know,” I start, sadness and amusement mingling in my chest, “he fixed these, so I was always ten pounds heavier.”

 Unable to see the dark humour that I do, Lucy’s eyebrows knit together furiously, teeth biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep her from screaming obscenities.

 I place the scale down on the ground before reaching in to retrieve the last item in the box. The second my fingertips touch the tape, the smile erases from my face.

 Deep breath in.

 Lifting the final photograph from the box, my heart breaks yet again. The memories from that night flush my mind, my whole body quickly covering in goosebumps in an attempt at defence.

 Lucy is silent next to me, waiting for me to say something or react at all. I bring the image closer, throat drying a little more with each inch it nears. I gulp harshly, desperate for some of the moisture collecting at my eyes to travel to my mouth.

 I stare down at the picture of myself in my parents’ garden, mum and dad on either side of me, the three of us beaming uncontrollably. We were happy and excited, I was moving to Los Angeles in a few weeks, completely uncertain if I would be able to make my dream into my career.

 Turning the photograph over is what send tears falling.

 Our sweet Violet,

Words cannot describe how proud we are of you. You are so brave it makes us question if you were adopted without us knowing. You have always been your own person and that is what makes you so very special. It is also the reason that we know you will succeed no matter what you do. You are a wonder. Go forward and show the world.

So much love,

Your biggest fans xx

 The words are beautiful, so sweet and encouraging that reading them now makes me feel a fraud. Tracing my thumb over the lines of tape holding the fragments of the photo together, a gentle sob erupts from inside me. The torn object makes my heart ache enough to think it were trying to mirror it.

 “This was the day I left him,” I manage to force out between sniffs and sobs. “When he ripped this… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

 Reliving my breaking point is something I often find myself doing, experiencing the extreme high of my first ever headlining show, and subsequent extreme low when Will pointed out how unflattering the stage lights were. He took that night from me, stole its joy and tried to grind me back down to a level beneath him.

 I cry hard into Lucy’s shoulder, not caring right now that I was ruining her t-shirt. She does not seem to care either, instead just rubbing my back soothingly and letting me get out the emotions I have kept locked away for so long.

 It is only when I feel Lucy’s body shaking against mine that I pull myself away. My tears stop the second I see hers falling.

 “I’m so sorry.” She gets out, eyes bloodshot as deep but silent sobs wrack her body.

 “It’s okay.” I coo, hating seeing my best friend cry more than any object in that box.

 “It’s not. I’m supposed to protect you and I didn’t see what he was doing to you.” She is starting to hyperventilate as the tears fall faster and heavier now.

 “Hey,” I whisper, placing a hand either side of her head to get her to focus on me and really listen, “No one did, not even me.” My voice cracks slightly at the admission, but it is what we both need to hear in order to forgive ourselves even the smallest amount.

 Our breathing regulates, the tears start to dry, and I look back to the image with a fond memory.

 “Do you remember the day we left?”

 Lucy gives me a breathy and snotty but genuine laugh. “Yeah. Mum packed me about five boxes of chocolate fingers.”

 “And they wouldn’t let us go through security with them so we had to stand and eat as many as we could.”

 We share a laugh at the fond memory, glad to remember ourselves so sweet and naïve.

 I pick up an empty frame from the floor, slipping the taped-up photograph inside and set it on the coffee table.

 “I’m not letting him have any more of me.”

 She nods and we sit for a moment.

 “Thank you for always being next to me.” I say, a lump forming in my throat yet again, however this time, my heart swells instead of breaking.

 “You and me.” She says with a soft, slightly teary smile as she extends a pinky finger for me to connect with. Of course, I do.

 * * *

“He said he wants to talk when he’s back from New York.” Lucy tells me nervously as she stares down at her phone.

 “Could be a good thing.” I argue, reaching out my hand to lift my nearly empty wine glass from the coffee table. I bring it to my lips carefully, my laying position on the sofa not aiding my slightly messy actions.

 “I don’t know, he got funny the other day when I left his place.” Lucy mutters, gulping at her newly replenished glass.

 “Luce, I’m going to be completely honest with you.” I say, sitting upright and trying to avoid the urge to hiccup as I move. “I think he likes you, and I think you like him too… and I think that scares you a bit.”

 Lucy pauses, chewing on my words before responding with a sigh, “I think you’re right.”

 “When aren’t I?” I tease, earning an eye roll, “Seriously though, Joseph is great, and he would take care of you.”

 “That’s scary.” Lucy whispers to herself more than me, “What do I do if I’m not the one looking after people?”

 “You’ll always have to look after me.” I joke, squeezing her knee lightly.

 “That’s what I got Harry for.” She teases, unknowingly making my stomach squeeze just at the mention of him. “What?” she laughs, noticing my sudden silence.

 I tell her everything. Running her through every moment with Harry, from our first date excitement, to accidentally on purpose friend-zoning him, to breaking the surface on my past relationship. As I describe each of our encounters, I recognise the lightness in my chest when I speak his name. Each small interaction I recall seems to stoke the embers in my chest, burning hot and steadily as I catch her up.

 “I think you like him but you’re afraid.” Lucy repeats my own advice back to me with a smug smirk.

 “Wouldn’t you be?” I defend.

 “Oh definitely, but if you like him why are you waiting around. Be brave.” Her voice is so calm and matter of fact that her words seem nothing but logical, all my excuses flying out the window as I let her advice sink in.

 Except for one.

 “I don’t think he likes me like that, maybe he did at the start… but not anymore.”

 “You can’t know that unless you ask him.” She replies, again as if it’s the most blatant thing in the world. Which I suppose it is.

 Maybe I should be brave. I look to the newly framed photograph and find my answer. Maybe I will be.

 * * *

 Lucy made me text Harry that night before she left. He replied before I had finished locking the front door.

 Yesss are you free Friday? I potentially have an idea – Harry

 Before I know it, I find myself in the car park of The Forum in Inglewood, Harry’s hand slipped effortlessly into mine as he guides us through backdoor after backdoor.

 Adrenaline courses through me as we wind through corridors, hearing the support act through the overhead speakers. We had already missed part of the show and were desperately trying to make up for the time lost sat in traffic.

 Harry takes care of everything, shaking hands with everyone we interact with and thanking them graciously when they help us locate our seats. I watch him, slightly awe-struck, as we make our way to our little section by the balcony. The space is more private than general seating and I wonder what strings Harry had to pull to get such incredible last-minute tickets.

 “Comfortable?” Harry asks as we get settled.

 I nod, afraid that if my mouth were to open, I would let everything slip. Who could blame me though? The kindness and sincerity behind his eyes are enough to make anyone swoon.

 No time to dwell on the way his eyes glide across my face, the crowd roars, almost making me jump as they drag me from my daydream.

 Up on stage, Fleetwood Mac take their positions. A kick drum meets with the first few notes of The Chain, sending thousands of screaming fans into overdrive, ecstatic to see their idols in the flesh. Harry and I easily fall into that category, excitedly squeezing the other’s hand as the song builds.

 “Oh my God!” I scream, head thrown back momentarily, unable to contain my wonderment at whatever cosmic coincidence allowed this to by my life.

 It is loud. I feel the drums rattle in my chest, bass swirling in the pit in my stomach. My free hand grips the bar of the balcony, desperately trying to tether me to reality before I float away into whatever heavenly dream I have fallen into.

 The show goes on, each passing song appearing to be a fan favourite as the crowd only grows wilder and more liberated. I watch with glee as each and every person moves freely, dancing and singing excitedly as Second Hand News transitions into Say You Love Me.

 My gaze flits back to Harry for the hundredth time since the show began, admiring the joy radiating from him. It is infectious and feeds me until my rays begin to pour out of me as well.

 Harry is goodness. Any other day, I would have used this as a reason to drive a wedge between us. He brought happiness while I worried that I drained it from the world.

 But here, with him, I know the truth. I feel the good and the beauty in the world, and I know that I am a part of that. I do not drain him, we fill each other up.

 “Harry,” I desperately call over the music.

 Instantly, his eyes are on me, smile still present but quickly glancing over me to ensure my wellbeing.

 “I’m sorry I friend-zoned you!” is all I can think to say. Somehow, it seems to be enough. Harry lets out a beautifully easy laugh, dimples deep-set in his cheeks as he lets go of my hand in order to wrap both arms around me.

 “It’s okay.” He chuckles, quickly letting go of me and turning me towards the stage so as not to miss anything. His arms linger around me, hugging me slightly from behind, swaying us almost anxiously.

 “We don’t normally do requests, but this will have to be an exception.” Stevie says, her voice light as a playful smile finds its way on to her face. “This is Skies the Limit.”

 “I was going to choose Storms but didn’t want to see you sad.” Harry utters in my ear, confirming every complimentary thought I have of him.

 My jaw struggles to stay closed as I watch the band play my song. Harry did this for me. My favourite, non-depressive, song is playing in front of all of these people. For me. Because of him.

 His name tumbles from my lips, breathless and unbelieving that I am not existing in some kind of simulation.

 I turn to look at him, gobsmacked, when I find his tentative gaze. Never have I seen him so timid, as though I might think this gesture too much. I mean, it is. There is no way on Earth someone could deserve to feel so cherished. No one could possible earn this heart-swelling sensation. No one is worthy of this level of care. But here I am. I get to be with him and being with Harry is like every birthday rolled into one. He drives me wild and keeps me calm, often managing to do both simultaneously.

 For once, I do not care what anyone else thinks. All that matters is the man standing in front of me and the decision I need to make. Am I going to let this pass me by and shy away from potential happiness yet again? Or will I be brave and take a chance?

 Harry watches me cautiously as my brain tries to spiral and twist itself into knots of self-doubt. But every wonderful decision I have every made required an element of risk. What would my younger self think if she saw me fumble this chance? She was always so fearless, why can’t I be?

 “Remember at Lucy’s? You asked what I’d do if I wasn’t scared.” I say, palms starting to sweat as I feel the edge of the cliff approaching fast.

 Harry nods.

 “I didn’t tell you that if I weren’t so scared, I would let myself fall for you...”

 Our eyes search the other’s face; mine desperate for any sort of reaction, his cautiously awaiting a hint of insincerity.

 “Funny thing is I don’t think it will stop me.”

 And like that, the cliff is far behind me and I wait in limbo for any response.

 My heart wishes for Harry to scoop me up in his arms, bend me low and kiss me like a solider coming home from war. My mind worries that he will throw up over the side of the balcony from sheer disgust at the very notion. However, Harry provides neither anticipated response. Instead, a stifled smile spreads across his face.

 “I know,” he grins, “Lucy told me.”

 “For fuck’s sake!” I laugh incredulously, my head thrown back in despair and amusement. I should have guessed she would continue meddling. “I’m going to kill her.”

 “Do you think you could wait a while to do that?” Harry asks when I finally meet his eyes again, his hands slipping up my back, pulling our bodies ever so slightly closer together.

 “Why?” I sigh, half-joking.

 “So I can do this.”

 Each of Harry’s hands settle on either side of my head, a thumb instinctively grazing across the soft skin of my cheek. I have just enough time to register his touch before his lips come down to meet mine.

Our first kiss is fuelled with longing and ignited with hope. A new type of excitement spreads through my chest as his lips melt with mine, soft and sweet, as all fears and doubts seem to drown out with the roar of the arena. Some other time I will tell Harry about Will and how he affected me, and things will be okay, because with Harry things are okay. He makes them okay. And with heaving chests and his forehead pressed against mine, for the first time in a long time, I feel the potential for a free kind of love.

masterlist

[charlesoberonn]

Ms. Mailbox - Part 1

(This one turned out long so I’m splitting it up into parts. I’ll write the rest soon)

It all started when I busted up her mailbox. This isn’t a euphamism for sex, I mean it literally. I drove by with my buddy and smashed her mailbox with an aluminium baseball box.

That turned out to be a bad idea almost immediately. The bat was bent all out of shape, and my wrist was all mangled and sprained. The mailbox was bent too, but only barely. Overall an unproductive session of vandalism.

My friend drove me to the hospital right away. I remember thinking as I was waiting in agony about how awful everyone around me in the waiting room were. How much more deserving of treatment I was. I didn’t even think about what I did to bring this on myself.

After staying home for a couple of days, my parents finally scraped me off the living room couch and got me to go back to school, injured arm and all.That morning, I walked through the hall with a sour face and an armsling. When an athlete boy does it, his friends all support him, but I didn’t have friends in this school.

Before first period I was summoned to the principal’s office. He was a stern man, yet at the same time it seemed like all the life had been drained from him and he didn’t give a single fuck anymore. He told me that he knew how I got injured like this. It wouldn’t be my first act of “hooliganism” as he said, but he couldn’t prove it. So he assigned me somebody who’ll help take notes for me.

That’s when I noticed Ms. Mailbox waiting outside. She was a year younger than me, and quite a bit shorter, somebody who could easily escape notice if it wasn’t for her beautiful golden hair and her pretty doll face.

I didn’t know she was Ms. Mailbox at the time. I had no idea whose mailbox I smashed that day. But thinking about it now, I think she did know, even back at the principal’s office.

The principal gestured her forth and she went inside, quickly and politely sitting beside me. She turned to look at me and introduced herself with a smile. But there was something weird about that smile, it clashed with poorly concealed bags under her eyes.

She went to shake my hand with her right hand. Since my right hand was currently in a sling, I shook it with my left and we had an odd and unsymmetric handshake. Afterwards, the principal unceremoniously drove us out of his office. I was happy to leave.

I didn’t need to be introduced to Ms. Mailbox, I knew who she was and she. And she knew who I was. As we exited the office, a third girl was waiting for us. Taller than me, with blue highlights in her hair and an eyebrow piercing. With no warning, Ms. Mailbox and Bluebird kissed, right in front of me. I almost gagged and looked away in second-hand embarrassment. Though I don’t think there was any first-hand embarrassment in their embrace.

It was hard being one of only 3 out lesbians in the whole school. Even worse than 3 being such a small number, it’s an odd number, and I was the one left out without a date. Not that I liked any of them. In fact, in that moment I decided I hated them. Especially Ms. Mailbox. That hate wouldn’t last til the end of the day, as I would later find out.

She kept waving her girlfriend in a flirty way as we walked to my first class of the day. I just sighed under my breath. As if I wasn’t in enough pain already.

First period was fine, I didn’t have to do anything in terms of writing, but the teacher kept eyeing me to make sure I’m listening, which was a bit awkward. My eyes darted towards Ms. Mailbox, she worked fast. I figured she would just write stuff down and then give me a copy, but she actually wrote everything twice. First in her notebook, and then while everybody was still copying off the board, she copied off her own writing in my notebook. It was crazy.

I wanted to comment on it, but the teacher’s hawkish stare made me a bit scared to even open my mouth to yawn, so I just looked. After a while, the mesmerising sight of Ms. Mailbox’s quick and neat handwriting got me in some sort of daze. My eyes drifted upward to her face, her eyes which darted about the page, and her pink painted lips, which were slightly apart as she wrote, and closed again when she looked up.

Near the end of the class, she turned suddenly to look at me. Almost gave me a heart attack. I instinctively used my hand to hold the table, not remembering that it’s injured. I winced in pain. And the bitch giggled at me.

Later after class I told her I was impressed with her. Then I clarified I meant her handwriting after she gave me a long pause. She smiled, and I sheepishly smiled back and thanked her. Blegh.

The next period was gym, where she wouldn’t be of much use, but she insisted on coming along to help me anyway. I told her it was pointless, and she should go to her own class, but she told me back that she had no use of going to class anymore. I was perplexed, but I let it slide and let her come with me.

The gym coach told me that even though my arm was injured, I could still do some leg exercises. I bullshited to her something about my wrist being too hurt to move and got a full pass, though I’ve been warned that I would have to make up whatever exercises I missed. I scoffed. To my surprise, Ms. Mailbox scoffed with me.

We sat on the bleachers and watched the other girls play. I was bored. My phone had to be placed in the box when we entered the gym. I tried leaning on my healthy arm but couldn’t find a pose that didn’t get in the way of my sling.

“Here, you can lean on me.” I heard Ms. Mailbox offer me. I gave her a weird look and declined.

“What’s up with you?” I asked her, in an admitedly very impolite way.

“What do you mean? Can’t I offer a girl in need a place to rest her head?”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Yes? What? Ew, no. Not like that. Thank you very much.” she scoffed again. “I just want to be helpful.”

“You already are helpful.” I told her.

“Thanks.”

“Wasn’t a compliment, just stating a fact.” I leaned back and rolled my eyes.

“Facts can be compliments.”

“Do you want it to be a compliment?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

She paused. “Ew.”

We sat in silence a bit, I half heartedly glanced at the girls playing volleyball. It was almost hot, looking at their bodies bouncing up and down and getting sweaty. I would’ve been hot if they didn’t all suck at volleyball. Not like I could complain, though. I couldn’t even hit a mailbox right.

I yawned and leaned back a bit too far, my butt sliding off the narrow and slippery bleacher and I stumbled. I tried to grab at the next seat with my foot but I slid right under it, I was going down. But only until I was caught by a surprisingly sturdy grip from Ms. Mailbox, who grabbed at my armpit and helped me back up.

“Thanks.” I said, my voice a bit unstable from the jump the near-fall gave me.

“Is your arm alright?”

“What? Oh yeah.” I checked on it. She went to check on it as well, but I swatted her hand away. Gently.

“May I ask how you got it?”

“You may not.”

“Okay.” she seemed a bit disappointed.

I paused, thinking for a bit. My eyes were wandering again, down her face from her pretty blue eyes and slightly puffy cheeks.

“Only if you tell me why you don’t go to class.”

“Oh!” she perked up immediately. “Well...... I do study. Just not here. I study at university level.”

I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel immediately incompetent in comparison.

“University level?”

“I finished all high school exams last year, more or less. So they let me go to uni from Monday-Wednesday.”

“But until the academic school year starts you’re stuck here with the rest of us.”

“Very observant.”

“Thank you.” I paused again. “So like, do you have university friends and stuff?”

“What? Oh yeah, I do. Wanna see some pics?” she pulled out her phone. I immdiately went to hide it.

“Wait, not here.” I pointed to a loose seat that led to under the bleachers.

She nodded, and we quietly scooted over to it and down under. Ms. Mailbox helped me down the narrow hole by supporting my slinged arm.

It was cosy in there, the only light coming from screwless screwholes and her phone screen. She showed me pictures of her friends. Most of them seemed pretty boring. Dudes and dudettes in vest and glasses sitting in study halls and buried in their books or on the computers. Even more than people, she pictures of statues there, and trees, and the buildings themselves.

“Damn girl, did you take a pic of every branch on campus?” I whispered.

She giggled in response. “Only the interesting ones.”

We made sure to get back up and sit idly in place for when the coach came back to dismiss us and give us our phones back. Then we moved on to the next period laughing among ourselves at pictures of amateur student art projects that Ms. Mailbox took.

The rest of the day went smoothly. We mostly just talked, often during class, which pissed off the teachers but I found hilarious. To my surprise, Ms. Mailbox found it funny too. I didn’t know that at the time, but I was already rubbing off on her. We tried keeping our chats down low, but by the end of the day neither of us gave any fucks and we were talking quite loudly. Needless to say we were kicked out of the class.

As we were waiting outside the classroom for the bell to ring so we could take our bags and go home, Ms. Mailbox asked a question.

“Hey, how did you sprain your wrist? You said you would tell me.”

“I did.” I shifted a bit uncomfortably, becoming suddenly aware of the little to no distance between us.

“Was it as bad as the principal said?” she elaborated.

“Pretty much.” I answered naturally, as thought I’ve known her for years. I kind of regreted being so open a moment later, but at this point it was too late, I was already mid-answer. And I did sort of promised her. So I spilled the beans.

“Yeah, it was bad, I guess.” I soft-balled. “I smashed a mailbox with a baseball bat out of a moving vehicle. Thought the mailbox would break. Turns out I broke first.” I chuckled, trying to pass it off as a no-big-deal. Just a funny anecdote.

“I see.” was all Ms. Mailbox said.

There was a silence between us, and I felt a strange uncomfortable feeling I haven’t had since I was a child. I felt like I was being judged, and more than that, that I cared about the judgement.

“You s-” I wanted to make a snarky a remark, but just at that moment the bell rang.

We both hurried back into the class before the torrent of students spilled out of it. The teacher was the last to leave before us, and gave us a stink eye as she went out the door. It was just the two of us now.

The tension from before hadn’t gone away, in fact it was heavier.

“You’re not surprised?” I turned my head down. “You had me all figured out for a Bad Girl already, huh?” I tried picking up my backpack with my healthy arm, but getting it to stay on my back was a challenge. It was kind of ruining the cool apathetic vibe I was going for.

Ms. Mailbox put on her backpack and reached up help me. She put on the straps on my shoulders with efficiency and gentleness. I could swear I felt her rub my shoulderblades a bit as she did.

“No, that’s not it. I just deduced that’s what you did.” she explained.

“Deduced?” I asked like a clueless idiot.

“Yeah.” she walked out of the classroom and looked back at me with a pair of beautiful eyes. “It was my mailbox you smashed.”

With that, Ms. Mailbox became Ms. Mailbox. And the seeds of something between us were starting to sprout.

[laylacooke]

Enter the Werewolf || Miles & Layla

timing: Towards the end of July. parties: @ofmyownpack & @laylacooke summary: Miles and Layla have a training sesh that doesn’t go quite as planned.

She had googled the address on her phone and knowing that Indy was just fine with Ulf, Layla had decided to set out to Miles’ house for their overdue training session. It hadn’t taken her too long to get there. And when she arrived, she could already smell his scent from outside the house. Walking up to his front door, she knocked softly and waited. The last time she had seen Miles had been at the birthday party, but they hadn’t spoken. In fact, she hadn’t spoken to many people that night. But that was in the past, and today, she was here to learn and to grow in her skills as a werewolf.

Duke gave a couple of alert barks that someone was at the door but quietened as soon as Miles gave a firm ‘thank you’. He’d been expecting Layla, but you still couldn’t be too careful with all the hunters around, so Miles paid close attention to his senses as he approached the door, confirming the scent of the person outside before opening it to let her in. “Hey, how’s it going?” Duke got up to sniff too, greeting Layla politely. “Did you wanna talk about what you’re having trouble with? I got water or soda too if you want something to drink…”

Layla heard the barks from the dog residing just inside Miles’ house, and it wasn’t long before the door was open, and she was being greeted by the man and his dog. She hadn’t interacted with Miles much before this but knowing he could teach her things that she had yet to experience and learn was important, “Hey, Miles!” Seeing Duke come towards her, she smiled, “Hey Buddy. Who are you?” His question had drawn her attention from the dog, “Well, I guess I just want to be better and more capable of escaping, if I ever get into a situation that I might not be able to get out of. Luke had mentioned parkour. And maybe self-defense. I got caught by a vampire a while back, and luckily someone was there to save me, but I guess I’m just really lacking in knowing how to escape. And, uh, maybe water for later? Thanks.” She chewed on her bottom lip. She felt awkward bothering Miles, knowing their initial interaction hadn’t been the best during the Wolf Pack meeting, but she had hoped this would give them something to bond over.

Capable of escaping. Oof. That was never a nice thing to hear. It struck Miles with the gravity and reality of their situation; that there were those who would cage them at best and kill them at worse. “Parkour?” Miles gave a friendly chuckle. “Course his lil skinny ass would mention that. I never done anything like that myself, but I know how to run, and I know how to fight.” Miles ushered her fully inside, closing the door behind her and locking it for good measure. Couldn’t be too careful with everything going on. He took a couple bottles of water out of the fridge and headed downstairs with her, into the soundproofed and extra-reinforced basement. There was a bunch of workout equipment and mats around, but the gym wasn’t exactly the basement’s primary use. 

“You can’t just lock yourself up every full moon or the wolf’ll go crazy, but I use this place for some transformations. We can train here for a bit before we start using the trees.” Miles positioned himself in front of her on one of the big, open areas of the basement. “Pretend I’m coming at you. Show me what you’d do.” 

So, parkour was out of the question, but probably for the best. And if it really came down to it, Layla could always use the flips and things she’d learned as a cheerleader. She would make that skill come in handy somehow. “Running and fighting is probably better anyways. Plus, I was a cheerleader for almost five years. I can figure something out.”

She followed Miles through the house and down to his basement. Seeing how well prepared and reinforced everything seemed to be made her feel safe. If hunters, besides Kaden and Rio, were ever after her, she knew exactly where she’d probably go. “I...I learned that the hard way.” She didn’t want to get into it considering it was one of the many reasons she had let the fidget spinner take control of her life, “I went running with Ulf and Ari on the last full moon, and I think it helped.” There had been plenty of times before she had even made it to White Crest that she was sure she had changed and ran free, but she couldn’t remember it. Her mind had blocked it all leaving her in the dark about more than she probably ever needed to know. However, his request brought her back to the mission at hand; defense training, “Uh...okay. Well normally I just run, but when I’m scared my claws come out and my fangs, sometimes. I think my eyes change color too, but I’m not sure.” She hadn’t felt threatened or any sense of heightened emotion, so forcing the minor changes in herself, the tricks she had picked up when she was hypnotized, wasn’t working for her now.

"You were a cheerleader?" Miles asked. "That's cool. It's got a lot of the same skills as being a gymnast, right? Like you gotta be agile and flexible. That could come in handy for getting out of tight spots." He wasn't exactly the best-placed person to teach her how to adapt her cheerleading skills to lycanthropy, but he knew it was possible. Better for her to focus on something she already knew. 

"That's good," he answered as she spoke about Ulfric and Ari. "Having someone with you is usually safer. That way if you get into trouble or lose control, you've got backup. Or someone to put you in check." He nodded, chewing the inside of his lip. "Okay, what you're talking about is involuntary transformations. Full disclosure, I was born a wolf, so it's nowhere near as bad for me, but we can work on it, if you want. You gotta get worked up though. It's tough to simulate that terror response."

“For my entire high school career. Even went to nationals at Disney World.” Layla laughed thinking back at that weekend. It was one of the highlights of her short life, especially considering her parents had let her go. Werewolf hunter training had taken precedence over most of her childhood and teenage years, so being able to feel normal for once had meant something more to her than most people her age. “And you’re right. You do. I could always show you a few things if you wanted me to.” She smiled. Maybe a Werewolf Cheerleading class was something she could offer up for her wolfy friends.

“I don’t know what I’d do without Ulfric and Ari.” She was grateful for their friendship. She had done a poor job of showing it, but she was working on making it up to both of them. “Involuntary changes. That’s what Ulf called it. He told me to be careful when that happens, and that it was the reason not chaining yourself on a full moon was important, so you don’t lose control before that time during the month.” Layla was wanting to take every step she could to keep everyone around her safe and to be a more aware and better version of herself, including the animalistic part of her being. “I just want to become a Zen wolf okay? I know I’m never going to be able to control myself quite as much as you, Luke, Ari, Ulf, and all the other born wolves, but I just want to be able to find peace with what I am and be the best version of a bitten wolf that I can be without being a threat to anyone around me.”

"They have cheerleading contests at Disney World?" Miles asked, flabbergasted. Sometimes the world beyond White Crest amazed him. He couldn't even picture how that would look. "I think I'm too heavy and bulky for cheerleading, unless I was the guy on the bottom of the pyramid or something," he chuckled. "I'd love to see what you got though." 

He nodded as she spoke about Ulf and Ari. "We're built to have community around us. A pack. Ours might not be the most strictly structured, but we're there for each other, right? That's what counts." A Zen wolf. Now that was a hell of a thought. "Winn's a bitten wolf, ain't he?" Miles pondered. "He has decent control. Not... great, but he's got some practice under his belt. Maybe you'll never be able to do it quite the same way, but we can work on it."

“That they do. It’s like a really big deal, too.” Layla laughed when he mentioned being a cheerleader. “We had some guys who were really good. I think a few of them might have gotten scholarships, too.” She smiled thinking back on the day her friends from cheer had found out, but the smile soon faded with the reality of her situation. Thankfully Miles’ request pulled her from her own thoughts, “Uh, yeah. Sure.” It had been a while, and she was probably a little rusty, but it would give her something to show him when they started training.

“Yeah, we’re like the Island of Misfit Toys from Rudolph. But I guess it’s still a pretty special thing, right? To be able to have a pack?” It was one thing she had longed for after being shunned for so long by the wolves she had encountered before coming far enough North that most people didn’t know about her family and their legacy, “I think so, yeah. Is it true? What they say about the transformation, that it’s always going to be more painful for bitten wolves than born wolves?” She didn’t know if Miles knew the answer, but she had to ask.

“Well, good for them,” Miles answered with a casual smile as she mentioned the male cheerleaders. “Fuck gender roles. Do what makes you happy.” But that wasn’t really the topic at hand. With the threat in White Crest currently at an all-time high for wolves, Layla needed all the help and support she could get. “Yeah,” he answered sadly as she asked about the transformation. “Bitten wolves never have it quite the same as born ones, but that doesn’t mean you can’t live a perfectly happy life, okay?”

He brought her to the center of the room, making sure she was ready before getting in position to spar with her. He couldn’t exactly go full send with a teenager, but he wanted to test her reactions, see how her instincts were, see if he could make her inner wolf come out. Only then could he teach her how to stop it. 

“Right? I’m pretty sure they’re living it up right now.” Layla could only assume, but she was still happy for her friends from back home, nonetheless. Miles’ news for her wasn’t so pleasant though. In fact, it brought her mood down even more knowing there would never be any relief in sight. She was doomed to feel the same excruciating pain repeatedly every month for the rest of her life, “I guess.”

Following him to the middle of the room, she knew whatever was about to happen was what the older wolf was preparing for. She could already feel her heart beating a little harder and faster just at the sense of him preparing to attack her. She didn’t know how or when he would start, but she already knew her wolf senses and skittishness were kicking in. After being out on her own for quite some time, fight or flight was something she automatically resorted to in situations instead of thinking logically about things. She could remember the day Ariana had found her in a dumpster in town, and the first thing she did was growl; the feeling of being able to take the smaller girl something she felt quite confident in. However, with Miles, it would be a different story.

It wasn’t the ideal situation. Miles was terrified of hurting her, but he buried that so he could focus on what had to be done. Layla wasn’t going to get through this if someone didn’t push her. He started sparring with her, giving little test jabs to test her response, seeing if she could block him. “Try harder,” he said, voice firm but fair. “Focus.” Another little jab, and another. He danced around her like they were in a boxing match.

When they started, Layla hadn’t expected the jabs so soon. The first one caught her off guard, but she soon started to catch on. She was a little rusty from having been out of training mode for so long, but as soon as she got the rhythm, she was blocking him left and right; her mind instantly going back to doing stuff like this with her father. However, he wasn’t fair. He had just been firm with her and a lot rougher. Putting on a concealer to hide bruises had become an everyday thing for her.

As Layla started to get into the sparring, Miles upped his game, moving quicker and making his movements more unpredictable. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he needed to push, just enough to get her to react, to get the wolf in her to come out. 

Layla somehow managed to keep up, even though she could tell things were getting harder. She didn’t like fighting. It went against everything she believed in, and one of the only fights she had been in had been with Ariana, under the influence of a cursed fidget spinner. Every other altercation had been one sided with an outcome of leaving her injured or nearly left for dead.

Miles increased his speed and intensity, letting the wolf lead him. A guttural growl left his lips as he fought her, landing a few solid blows then grabbing her shoulders and pushing her into the wall, pinning her there. “Fight. Back.” 

Layla didn’t expect to be pinned and when it happened, it took her back to the night she was bitten. Flashbacks held her paralyzed. What started out as something that was supposed to help her become a better wolf, left her on the floor begging for him not to hurt her, “Please stop! STOP!” She cowered in fear as tears seeped from the sides of her eyes. What she had hoped would happen, didn’t. No self-defense. No wolfing out. Just a reminder of what she had become.

Pushing him off her with her own wolf strength, she crawled over to a wall to catch her breath. Any other time and her claws were out, eyes golden, and teeth ready to rip, but any other time hadn’t been with another werewolf (aside from Ariana, when Layla wasn’t exactly herself).

Miles did as she asked, stopping and stepping backwards. He caught his breath, scanning her body for any partial transformation. There was none, but he could feel her panic. Her heartbeat echoed in his ears, loud as a drum. “I’m sorry,” he said, catching his breath too, stepping back and wiping his brow with a towel. “I don’t know how to help you.” 

Her eyes were shut tightly. She just wanted to calm down and forget about everything that had just happened. And she wanted to suppress the past. Once she was calm enough to breathe, she raised her head, eyes now open and focused on Miles, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” It was all she could say. All she could do. At this rate, Layla wasn’t sure she would ever be able to survive as a natural predator or even just as a human being.

[rex101111]

Izuocha week 2020 Day 1-After Work!

FINISHING BY THE SKIN OF MY TEETH-BUT I AM HERE!

Christ this year is gonna be a dozey ain’t it XD Alright! A bit short but what else do you expect from me on Izuocha week eh?

Any way, enjoy!  :D

The first time Ochako asked Izuku if he wanted to hang out once they were done with patrols, they were just a couple of years past graduation, on the last long stretch of being sidekicks and on the verge of opening offices of their own.

It is much more difficult than she expected it to be, based on past experience. Back at UA, asking Deku if he wanted to go to a park for a jog or if he wanted to study together was, while not a breeze, easy enough to do while keeping her heartrate under control.

Even as school ramped out towards the end of their third year, they still managed to find time to savor what few fleeting moments of their childhood remained before they became heroes in earnest.

Now, she's 23, literally living her dream, and she can't seem to find the words that she's used dozens of times as a girl. Part of her wonders if that's just a part of growing up, growing apart and moving on and forgetting, much as the thought of forgetting anything from her school career sounded ludicrously unlikely, but she knew there was more to it than that.

Back at school, she had buffers, defensive mechanisms. She had Iida or Tsuyu with them on study sessions, she had school weighing as heavily as it could on her mind, thoughts of her parents rationing food keeping her from losing her perspective. Things she used to be able to talk to her best friend without tripping over every second word like some love struck teenager.

(A voice not too dissimilar from a certain pink skinned class mate would sometimes whisper in her mind's ear that she was, in fact, a love struck teenager, and she always mentally hit it back with an image of a rolled up newspaper and went on with her day.)

Now? Now she had some leeway in how she spent her time, the amount of paperwork she had to do after busting a crime was, ironically, child's play compared to how much homework she had to do in her third year, and she was sending her folks enough money that she didn't need to really worry about them much at all.

Not to mention, and this was probably the biggest reason her tongue was tying itself in knots, she and Izuku shared a patrol route, and so saw each other pretty much every day.

Alone.

Just the two of them.

Without their friends or colleagues to act as distractions to keep her from focusing on how bright his smile is and how soft his hair looks and how his freckles remind her of the night sky and you see her problem?

How was she supposed to talk to him in a casual manner when she couldn't keep her mind from wondering off into childish similes about his freckles whenever they had a moment alone?

It took her months to finally work up the courage, days and weeks of practicing in front of a mirror like she did for her sidekick interview on the last week of school. It was ridiculous, but if she learned anything from UA it was to know your limits and how to push past them without breaking your spine.

(Literally, in her case, as one ill-advised attempt to up her float height nearly resulted in her turning into a smear on the ground if her friends weren't as quick as they always were…this time, she didn't have anyone to catch her if she fell.)

It wasn't even anything serious, drinks after work, that's it! Office workers do that every day! She could invite her co-worker to drinks! It was just a casual thing! Between friends! Which they were!

It wasn't like she was asking him on a-

A-

God damn it she couldn't even say it!  

"Uraraka-san? You alright?"

Ochako nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Izuku calling to her over her shoulder, spinning around in a blur to face him with an over-stretched smile, "who? Me? Oh I'm fine." She waved off his concern, making a show of wiping off sweat from her very dry brow, "just, you know, a bit bushed after that last takedown we did." She laughed a little, the real ache in her muscles helping her with the redirect, "that was pretty crazy though right? That guy with the wolf form quirk-"

"Yeah! And how you handled him was amazing!" Deku grins at her with a shining smile worthy of All Might in his prime and Ochako tries not to swallow her tongue. "The way you blocked him with those pit falls, and then directed him to me with those falling bricks? That was incredible!" He pulled out his notebook, now pocket sized to fit comfortably in his hero suit and smiles at her with so much admiration her heart might not be able to take it, "mind I write that down? We could work on it so we can be more in synch next time!"

"O-oh sure!" Ochako stammers, head spinning from his compliments and mouth running on its own, "we can maybe talk it over drinks after the patrol is done, sound good?" Her eyes widen and her teeth clack shut when she realizes what she said, a flood of anxiety filling up her gut as the thought that she would have to spend time alone with him and how stupid she'll act when she does cements itself in her head. "I-I mean-!"

"Sure!" Izuku smiles at her again, excited at the prospect of her offer, "it's been a while since you and me just hung out right? It'll be fun to catch up with you like old times." His smile grew softer and a bit embarrassed and her rushing thoughts slowed down in response, "I missed that, you know? Just talking with you? Feels like ages since any of us from class A talked to each other…"

As Izuku went on, an odd sort of calm resolve sat itself in Ochako's heart, an old instinct of hers kicking in when she saw someone she cared about looking a bit down, "we've all been busy, right?" She waited for him to nod and smile at her again, ignoring the heat in her cheeks she kept going, "well, that's just how adult life is, right? All it means is that we just have to treasure the time we can set aside for friends, and make the most of it." She grinned impishly at him and poked him in his side until he started laughing, "which means that you need to stop being a grump and pay for my drink!"

"I-who's being a grump!?" He laughed at her in mock outrage, "and why do I have to pay for your drink!"

"Cause you're the guy! The guy always pays!" She can barely hold back her laughter as she keeps poking him and he puts up a meager defense, "it's the gentlemanly thing to do!"

(On a date that is, the pink haired apparition in her mind spoke up, only to be swatted away with an extra-large newspaper.)

"Alright! Alright I'll pay just stop poking me already!" He cried out helplessly, his laugh ringing in her ears pleasantly so she kept up the assault for just a second more before backing off.

She smiled at him breathlessly, her air short from her own burst of laughter, "okay, so it's a date!"

The world screeched to a halt, her heart froze mid beat, Izuku's eyes widened like dinner plates.

The silence lasted just long enough for her to start contemplating if it would be nice to spend the next few weeks on the moon before he smiled at her again, a bit more careful but just as warm, "okay…" his voice was soft and clear, bringing up the image of someone dipping his toes into a pool to check the temperature, "it's a date."

Ochako, having been in the deep end for as long as she could remember, reached out a hand to hold his and guide him in, her heart roaring in her ears but her mind made, "it's a date." She repeats herself quietly, her voice shaking for a moment before settling, "after the patrol?"

Izuku grinned and the waters seemed just right, "sounds perfect."

She's doomed.

[your-hurricane]

neon moon || chapter 1 - broadcast me a joyful noise unto the times

A/N:  Disclaimer, I haven’t written fanfic since I was fourteen so please be gentle with me, friends

AO3 link

Fair warning that the only editing this has gone through has been proofreading!

Also, the first two chapters are largely exposition and setting up the various connections between Frankie and the MC (Natalia), but they will finally get to meet in chapter three!

Neon Moon summary: [starts three years after the events of the movie]

Single dad Francisco "Frankie" Morales and former Ph.D candidate Natalia Yevstigneyev-Diaz are trying their best. 

Alternatively: Frankie and the woman about to change his life keep missing each other, until they don't.

“Whoo-wee! Nice one, Diaz!” Benny said from where he’d just been knocked onto his back atop the sparring mats. 

 At her instructor’s praise, Natalia Diaz preened, making a show of taking her long dark wavy-curls out of her workout ponytail and flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, always happy to hear my badassery is increasing.”

 “I’d say perfecting. That was solid.”

 “Yeah, haven’t seen him go down that unexpectedly probably ever,” piped up a man with big, kind brown eyes whose name Natalia swore was Frankie. She’d only ever heard him called by his real name once or twice --- Benny usually greeted him as Fish.

 If Frankie was here, that meant the rest of Benny Miller’s military buddies would be trickling into the gym. Pity they seemed to be on time today— flipping Benny was fun, maybe he’d’ve given her a window to do it again. Sometimes if his buddies ran late he’d keep sparring with her past the self-defense session she’d paid for. 

 “It’s thanks to him and his lessons! Wouldn’t know where to begin without him.” Natalia hi-fived Benny from where he was on the floor, now sitting. “Thanks as always, Benny. See you Friday afternoon?”

 “Hell yeah!”

 “Awesome. Well, I’ll get out of your hair before the rest of the guys show up. Later Benny!” She nodded politely to Frankie just as she spotted the man she knew to be Benny’s older brother and...Pope? Santiago? again, she’d only run into these men in passing.

  ~.*~.*~.*~.*

Natalia Diaz’s early life read like an adventure, and in many ways, it had been. Her mother, Anna Diaz, was a first generation Mexican-American of Spanish, Mixtec, and Chinese background who met her father, then in medical school, while studying abroad in Russia. Her father, Gavril Yevstigneyev, was from Yakutsk of mixed Russian, Yakut, and Chuvash background. He was a doctor who gave up the possibility of an ultra-lucrative career to spend most of his life working as a medical officer in human rights organizations, and she was a research assistant in those same organizations.

 Born while her father was practicing in St. Petersburg, Natalia Gavrilovna Yevstigneyeva Diaz didn’t spend too long in one place. She may have been a dual citizen of the United States and Russia but she didn’t set foot in the United States until she was twelve years old, and her earliest concept of ‘home’ was Pakse, Laos. She was educated at international schools across Southeast Asia, and spoke Lao, Khmer, and Vietnamese in daily life depending on where the Yevstigneyev family was living, Russian at home, learned English and French at school, and her mother taught her enough Spanish to understand her abuela’s English-Spanish mix on birthday and Christmas phone calls.

 When it came time to graduate from secondary school - she graduated in Laos, ultimately  - she even applied to universities across Laos, Canada, Cambodia, France, The United States, Switzerland, China, Singapore, Australia, and Russia. At her parents’ insistence she cast her net far and wide. Except, with twenty-two acceptance letters and zero rejections, she almost wished she hadn’t.

 She studied at McGill University and through a combination of scholarships, her parents’ help, and her “waitressing” job (stripping job actually, and Natalia was damn proud of it and the crazy money it made, but knew her parents would flip out on her so she lied), she earned her B.A.s in linguistics with a minor in translation and interpretation, and anthropology.

 She had her pick of the litter as far as where she could settle post-grad: her dual citizenship made the US and Russia wide open to her, Canadian employers were offering to keep her in Canada, her parents still lived in Laos - six years in one place? That was a record for her folks! - and the NGO they were working for straight up offered her a job without her even sending an application. 

 There wasn’t a grad school on planet Earth that would’ve rejected her application.

 Natalia’s life should have been set forever. For a while, it was.

 After a gap year traveling Bhutan, Thailand, Indonesia, Mongolia, and completing the Trans-Siberian railway with her younger sister Mariya, who took a gap year between secondary school and university herself, Natalia prepared to conquer grad school….at motherfucking Yale!

 That same year, her parents and younger siblings (save Mariya who was studying at Yakutsk State University in their father’s home Russian Republic of Yakutia) moved to her mother’s home state of Texas. A part of Natalia felt bad for her eleven year old sister and the three year old twins out of some sense that her upbringing had been, objectively, the best possible. Natalia did not feel Russian, or Mexican, or American, or Laotian, or Cambodian, or Vietnamese, nor did she feel the need to. Borders were an arbitrary thing. People were people just with different languages, looks, and customs, and she believed she came to know that truth early in life because of her childhood as a third culture kid. 

 She understood why her parents made that decision though.

 In her first year of grad school, the Yevstigneyev Diaz siblings were twenty-two year old Natalia, nineteen-year-old Mariya, eleven-year-old Valentina, and two-year-old Alisa and her twin brother, the only boy in the family, Pavel. Alisa had been born partially deaf and their parents, as if they could react any other way, saw it not as a terrible thing to mourn over but as an opportunity to learn. A challenge did not equal a burden in their eyes. When she was two, however, they realized they needed to either move back to Russia or move to the United States.

 The Yevstigneyevs primarily worked and lived in Vietnam and Laos, and there was no singular Laotian or Vietnamese sign language, rather, localized sign languages. As Alisa grew from an infant to a toddler they decided they did not want to deprive her of Deaf culture, and thus, the decision to move to Texas was made.

 Just two years after relocating to Texas, tragedy struck the family.

 A car speeding through a red light killed Anna and Gavril on the way home from volunteering their time to teach Russian classes at the local Russian cultural center. Natalia, then twenty-four years old with a newly minted Masters from Yale and acceptances to three Ph.D programs, had to force out emails declining the offers, pack up her apartment, and move to Texas to raise her siblings.

 Abuela Rita instinctively offered to handle her grandchildren, but Natalia couldn’t possibly make her abuela (who she barely knew at that) raise three children again. Besides, her mother’s youngest sister still lived at home, and this was the same year Hurricane Harvey destroyed one of her uncle’s homes and he, his wife, and their children were also living in Abuela’s home...yeah, no. No, this had to be Natalia.

 It was Natalia or the state of Texas and like hell she was going to throw her three little siblings, two of them just four, and one of them deaf,  into the system. Alisa being able to communicate in ASL was so important to her parents...how could Natalia possibly let Alisa go into a system that wouldn’t care?

 And anyway, it wasn’t so bad. She used her fluency in Russian, Lao, Khmer, and French to work as a book translator. She’d even gone back to dancing four days a week for two reasons. A. You’d think speaking five languages fluently would mean she was making an assload of money, right? Wrong. and B. The inheritance and life insurance policies from her parents wouldn’t last forever and she had four college educations to finance. 

That was three years ago, and two and a half years before she started taking self-defense classes from Benny Miller. She’d only been working at an Austin strip club for about four months when one handsy patron reminded her that she needed a refresher on how to throw a punch.

 As for why she was Natalia Diaz now and not Natalia Yevstigneyeva? Well. She was still Natalia Yevstigneyeva-Diaz, but unless she was filling out legal papers, or at the Russian cultural center, it was just Diaz. Her mother’s last name was just easier for Austinites to pronounce right. You had to be at least a level six friend to unlock her tragic backstory and her full last name.

 Natalia had had everything going for her until one drunk driver took her parents, her Ph.D goals, her planned return to traveling the world, and even her name in one instant. 

 She wished she had it in her to be bitter but that would require her to have time to think about herself anymore. If it wasn’t taking ASL classes with Alisa, it was listening to Mariya complain about her job. If it wasn’t Valentina’s archery competitions, it was Pavel’s gymnastics meets. 

 (Yes, yes, she knew. How stereotypically Russian of them to have a kid in competitive gymnastics. It wasn’t her idea! Pavel loved it and when he begged his big sister to be allowed more than one class a week...she dared anybody to say no to that face.)

Any Natalia time she did have was too precious to spend being bitter, she decided.

   ~.*~.*~.*~.*

“Natasha! Nataaaaaaaasha….NATASHA!” 

 “Wha!” Thud! “Fuck. Oww.”

 Natalia groaned from where she’d fallen into a startled pile on the living room floor, staring up at the ceiling and turned her head to shoot a glare at Mariya.

 “Marusya, one day, you’re going to scare me awake to actual death.”

 “That’s impossible.” Valentina said from where she sat at the dining table typing up a paper for school. “If you’re scared to literal death you can’t be scared awake because you’ll be dead. Dead people can’t be awake.”

 “Unless she’s a zombie, Valya!” Shouted Pavel from his room down the hall.

 “Pasha’s got a point.” Mariya said, to which Natalia grabbed her foot and yanked hard, making her shriek as she fell against the couch. “Oof. Anyway, you’re going to be late for work if you don’t hurry up.”

 Natalia checked her watch and let out a swear under her breath. “I really need to not spar with Benny on work nights. Hey, Valya-” she sat up on the floor and whirled around to face her middle sister. “Do I need to drop you off for babysitting anywhere tonight?”

 Valentina shook her head. “Abuela’s picking me up to take me to Mr. Morales’. I’m watching Daniela.” Mr. Morales - whoever that was - lived near Abuela and her taking Valentina to his house gave her some ‘Valone time’ she liked to say.

 Natalia peeled herself off the floor and made her way to her bedroom, stopping by Alisa’s on the way. She grabbed the purple narwhal plushie that lived in a little basket attached to her door - the Get Alisa’s Attention Narwhal - and gently tossed it at Alisa, and when it landed in her lap Alisa tossed it back to Natalia, kept her hands free, and said “I didn’t forget.”

 “Good. If you’re good at the dentist tomorrow morning, I’ll buy you ice cream after.”

 “Isn’t that the opposite of what you should do after the dentist?”

 “So you don’t want ice cream?” “That’s not what I said!”

 Natalia laughed and stepped far enough into Alisa’s room to ruffle her hair and then said, “Be good. Masha’s in charge while I’m at work.”

  ~.*~.*~.*~.*

 “Thought you were day shift on Wednesdays, Natasha!” A black woman with her hair in box braids — Jess, stage name Phoenix — said, throwing her arm around Natalia when she first got to work. 

 “Nah, I talked to Paris, got my hours changed around, remember? Gosh, it’s like you don’t remember everything I ever say to you.” 

 Jess stuck her tongue out and muttered, “Bitch,” before smooching Natalia’s cheek.

 Natalia shoved Jess off of her with a giggle. “Go finish getting ready, ya crazy.” She sat down in front of one of the available mirrors to touch up her makeup before she was officially working, then addressed Jess again. “My 11-8 days are now Sunday and Monday. Wednesday, Saturday, I’m here with you 8 til 4, baybeeeee.”

 “Mm, good call. Wine Wednesday.”

 Half price wine meant more cash for dancers. 

 “Needs more body glitter,” Natalia said in her best Christopher Walken impression, before unscrewing the cap of her body glitter to shiny herself up. 

 “Now in your Zoya voice!”

 “Needs more body glitter,” Natalia repeated, this time, in her stage persona’s stronger Russian accent.

 The accent helped to further distinguish between Zoya the performer and who Natalia was offstage. It also wasn’t exactly offensive, either, because it was just Natalia exaggerating the accent she naturally had and just making it consistently Russian. It was a mess otherwise. Natalia and Mariya...talked funny. Their accents were kind of impossible to place because of how they learned English and which languages they first learned to actually speak in.

 At first listen, their international school education would hint at American- ish . But listen closely and certain vowels come out like an Aussie or a Canadian, courtesy of international school teachers from those countries. Listen for another moment and you’ll hear that Natalia’s tongue, specifically, never learned to consistently make certain sounds that English has that Russian, Lao, Vietnamese and Khmer just don’t. Natalia’s H’s came out harsh courtesy of her Russian father. And both Natalia and Mariya had a habit of dropping articles when telling their younger siblings to ‘close window’ or ‘feed dog and cat.’

For the most part, as Natalia tried to explain to anybody who asked about her accent, English was a language for the classroom. They spoke exclusively Russian in the home and out in ‘the wild’ spoke the local language. Yakutsk was a closer flight from Laos, Cambodia, or Vietnam than Austin was so if they visited any grandparents for Christmas it was their babushka and dedushka in Russia.

 Returning to the US permanently never was the plan, remember. It was only a decision they made for Alisa to live somewhere with a standard sign language -- and the only reason, Anna confessed to Natalia once, that they didn’t go back to Russia, was because Natalia had recently come out as bisexual.

  “We worried for Valya and the twins. What if they also grow up and realize they aren’t straight? The way it is in Russia for people like you...your father and I love Russia more than the United States. But we love our kids more than Russia.”

 She hated how vivid that conversation was in her head. There were some truly beautiful moments with her mother that had already faded from memory. How unfair of her brain to let things like holidays, birthdays, and her mother’s hugs slip. 

“Drive home safe, Jess.” Natalia bid her friend farewell a little after four the next morning, kissing her on the cheek before she unlocked her own car. If she got up to 70 and stayed there, she’d be home in time to count her tips, shower, and fix breakfast for the kiddos before school and in Alisa’s case, the dentist.

~.*~.*~.*~.*

 “Stand still Pasha,” Natalia said as she gently bopped the seat of her baby brother’s pants to knock the glitter off them. “Your butt looks like a glitter cannon exploded right next to it.”

 Pavel giggled and pointed out, “It’s your fault there’s always glitter in your bed.”

 “You shouldn’t lay down in my bed for naps after I’ve woken you up for school anyway. Especially not after you’ve already got your clothes on, you dingus.”

 “ Heeeey, that’s mean!” Pavel pouted.

 “Not if I’m saying it with love. Which I am.” Natalia stood up and pressed a kiss to the top of her brother’s head. “Okay, your butt’s as unsparkly as it's gonna get.”

 “I don’t see what wrong with having a sparkly butt anyway.” Pavel grumbled.

 “Now run along to the bus stop with the other kids. Be good at school, learn lots, I love you kid.”

 “Love you too , Natashe-!” the -nka! came muffled as Pavel had darted out the door to run down to the bus stop. 

 Natalia sipped on her coffee and watched out the window as her brother darted across the field to the complex’s mailbox pavilion to make sure he joined the other children safely. Satisfied he had, she turned away from the window to trudge back to the kitchen and refill her coffee and begin her vanilla work for the day before she had to wake Alisa for the dentist. On today’s docket? Trying to get through editing at least the first third of her Russian translation of the next book in the hottest new YA series.

 There was nothing Natalia wanted more than a nap but she was already cutting her deadline close. Right on schedule was the same as being behind in the literary translation world. If she wasn’t so ahead of schedule she was getting bored then she was nearing panic mode. 

 Logically she knew that only she felt that way. Her boss didn’t, or at least never felt the need to express to her that he did, but just herself was enough to put the pressure on from beginning to end of a project.

 It had benefited her in school. Not so much in her career.

 A life in academia as a linguistics scholar and researcher would have suited her better. The universe didn’t consider that when it let a drunk driver kill her parents and leave her three siblings to raise and Mariya’s academic dreams to finance.

[powermaknae]

The Deep End

Rock Band! NCT x Reader

The party life of being in a rock band is good fun, but when the band takes off, the members worry that you may be taking the freeing lifestyle too far, while Boyfriend! Yuta does nothing to stop you.

~Rockstar! Au, smut, unprotected sex, semipublic sex, partying, drugs, alcohol, addiction, cursing, smoking

Word Count: 3.1K~

A/N: It wasn’t mentioned very well, but you play bass, Johnny and Mark play guitar, Jaehyun plays keyboard and sings backup, Taeyong is the front man/singer, and Yuta plays the drums. Some details were kind of glossed over to give it the affect of the things you notice as a drug/alcohol user. Also, there’s a lot of trigger warnings and angst. And this is my first smut, so go easy on me :}

 The lights were dim, and the music boomed through your body as you gyrated along the compact space. The sensation of skin rubbing up against yours was unlike anything else, all of the other tactile stimuli drove your senses crazy. Your head was fuzzy, and vision blurred but you loved it that way. It made the whole experience better: the music, lights, people.

Across the room you spot a tall figure, the tallest among the others, and you strolled over, trying your best not to lose your balance. He smiled at you as you came close enough for him to recognize the teal converse and signature ponytail. Johnny was your best friend, your rock. You owed everything to him.

He had just landed your band its first big show and you wanted to celebrate the best way you knew how; by getting smashed.

You were never the type of person to follow rules. You were always living life on the edge of what was acceptable. Growing up, your parents were strict with you, be home at this time, do chores on this day, date at this age. And, of course, you did everything in your power to break those rules.

When you went to university, you went as a music business major because you had enjoyed playing bass in high school jazz band and your dad was willing to pay for your education. You were much more invested in the parties than learning, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when you dropped out to be in a band, instead.

You had met Johnny in your macroeconomics class and became instant best friends. You went everywhere together, for coffee, the movies, late night jam sessions. You were almost inseparable.

Johnny was a frat boy. His house was notorious for large parties, three nights a week, with more people than were in your classes. He had invited you to many and that’s where he introduced you to Yuta and Taeyong. Yuta was just as much of a rule breaker as you and he admired your strong headedness from the moment he laid eyes on you. Taeyong was the mom friend that made sure everyone got home safe.

It was a great set of people, just the right balance of right and wrong. Music was something you all bonded over, starting out small with arranging and writing little tunes and bouncing ideas off each other while you were high. You and Yuta dropped out around the same time and moved in together, but Johnny and Taeyong graduated the semester after with degrees in music business and veterinary science.

The band started to grow from just the four of you. Jaehyun was a member of the fraternity Johnny had been and had seen you at several parties, and Johnny had scouted Mark straight out of high school. That was how it started, frat parties and late-night jams.

Here you were now, getting shit-faced with your closest friends. People poured in around you and the proximity between you became smaller. Yuta stumbled into you from behind with a red plastic cup full of an inconspicuous liquor.

“There you are.” His words were slurred together, but he made perfect sense to you. “I found something fun you might wanna try.” He held his hand out in front of him, small pink pills laid out in his palm. You instinctively grab one, disregarding all safety. You were just in it for a good time, and your judgement had been clouded by the amount of alcohol you had consumed already.

He smiled as you took one, holding it in your hand as you waited patiently for him to pass them out to the other men around you. Johnny and Jaehyun downed theirs immediately, but you waited for Yuta to return.

He appeared in front of you again, with a pill of his own. He gave you a smirk before offering to intertwine your loose limbs together. You took the drugs together, taking a swig of your drinks, simultaneously.

After letting it set in, you downed the rest of the cup’s contents and threw it into the crowd carelessly, and flung yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around Yuta’s neck.

He was handsome when you were sober, but he was so much more ethereal when you weren’t. His bright white hair shined like a fluorescent light, starbursting around the edges, and his features blurred together slightly. His dark chocolate eyes bore into you as he looked up and down your figure, filled with a hazy lust.

He leaned down and smashed his puffy lips into yours, carelessly maneuvering them in a feverish manner. Yuta was not a neat person, by any means. He kept your shared apartment untidy and in need of organizing. He liked his women that way, always cherishing the mess. You, my dear, were the biggest mess of all.

His hands wandered up and down the curve of your waist, taking in every single sensation the fabric of your t-shirt would give him. You entangled your fingers in the white strands of hair at the base of his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible.

His forceful hands were pulling your waist into his frame, trying to gain more contact when you pulled away, looking at his blurry face with clouded eyes.

“Let’s go find a room,” you whispered seductively in his ear, leaning in to press hot kisses against his jawline. He pulled your arms off of his neck and wrapped a hand around your hip, coaxing you to follow him away from the bustling crowd.

He found the first door in a hallway leading away from the people and pushed you in first. It was a small coat closet, filled with various fabrics that brushed your fingers as you wrapped your arms around Yuta, going back to your heated make out. His movements were hasty and eager, but the drugs seemed to slow time itself. He quickly started removing layers from his body, taking off his shirt in a single motion.

His lips were mashed against yours again, while his agile fingers slipped under your waist band, tugging them down slightly, more to tease you than to get what he wanted. He parted your shaky legs with his thigh, grinding it into your needy core and pushing his clothed erection closer to you.

He went to the zipper of your jeans, unbuttoning and pulling them down enough to let them fall at your feet, then placed his thigh back to its position, letting you ride it. You held onto his neck with every fiber of your being, fearing you might fall without him.

He leaned away to remove his own black skinny jeans along with his boxers. His cock sprung from its restraints, already dripping with precum. He smashed his swollen lips back into yours, trailing his fingers delicately down past your ass to pull your legs up around him. “Jump,” he whispered, nipping at the edges of your ear.

You obey, wrapping your legs around his now completely exposed waist. His cock was pressed up against your clothed entrance, the soft fabric of your panties combined with the pressure was driving you crazy.

Your back hit the wooden door, making a loud THUD, but it didn’t phase you. He reached down in between you and brushed his index finger past the layer of fabric and ran it through your slick folds. You tilt your head back, farther into the door, giving him the perfect opportunity to attack your exposed flesh with his beautiful teeth.

As he sucked and nipped at your neck, he circled the pad of his thumb against you swollen bud. The combination of his harsh bites on your neck and his fingers working delicately in your heat made your heart pound against your chest.

His movement slowed as he removed his hand to hold your hips in place. He pushed your panties to the side and entered you at such a slow pace, you begged him to fuck you. When his cock was buried deep, you moaned his name repeatedly.

“Yuta, please. Ruin me.”

“Don’t worry, baby girl. I’m getting there.”

He wasted no time picking up speed, quickly escalating his movements to a rough pounding. Every thrust he made pushed your back farther against the door as you clung to him, leaving red lines all across his shoulders. He leaned his head against your collarbone, trying to gain some stability as his thrusts became more erratic.

A stream of curses left your lips as the familiar knot began to form. His grip on your waist was tight enough to leave bruises. His hips snapped into you at an incredible pace, leaving you in a state of pure bliss.

All the muscles in Yuta’s body were tensed, flexing at every slight motion. He clenched his teeth together as he felt your walls squeeze him. You were both getting closer and closer to coming undone. Yuta took pride in always making you cum first. He shoved himself as deep as he could, coaxing you to cum all over him.

“Cum for me, baby girl. You know you want to.” He lifted his head to blow hot air against your ear. You obeyed his order, unraveling in his arms, screaming his name. He did let up until he too let himself relax into you, letting out breathy moans and curses as he coated you walls and filled you to the brim.

His seed dripped from your core as he pulled away from you. Most of the rest of the night was hazy. You don’t remember what happened after, you just remember melting into the floor of the coat closet after Yuta fucked you.

You woke up the next morning surrounded by the soft comforter of your bed. Someone must have brought you home. Your head ached from last nights shenanigans and you felt sick to your stomach. The queen-sized bed always felt too big for just you, but it was rare that Yuta would stay. He always left for work before you woke up.

Your found the spot to your left empty, as usual. The clock to your right read “11:27”. Johnny wanted you there at 2 so you had some time. Your head was killing you, so you instinctively grabbed a handful of prewrapped joints from the drawer and left your room briefly to grab a beer from the fridge, not thinking of possible consequences.

You spent the next hour and a half in a cloud of careless bliss.

***

The cords were all blurring together as you tried to match the color-coded wires to each input. Maybe you shouldn’t have smoked that last blunt or done that line of coke from the glove box of your Toyota before going to set up for the show, but who was going to stop you.

“These fucking wires won’t fucking go in the right spot!” You frustratingly yell to no one. Your hands were shakey and you could barely tell which color went where.

“Who the fuck designed this pile of shit.” “Stop, you’re making it worse.” Johnny knelt beside you, trying to pry the mess of rubber from your hands. You were defensive, pushing him away. “I can do it!”

He looked at your soft face, trying to read it for any sign that something was up. You avoid his contact, focusing the little attention you had on the cables.

“Look at me.” His voice was stern, dripping with concern. You tilted your head to look him square in the face, but the motion made you dizzy, and the lines of his angular features were blurred.

“Come on. Let’s take a break.” You stood slowly, careful not to lose balance as you followed him to the concrete ramp outside the loading dock.

“Are you high right now?” His voice was softer now, he didn’t want to cause a scene.

“Why does it matter?” “Because we’re about to do our first show, y/n. Your pupils are huge, and your hands are shaking! You can’t do a show if you can’t think straight!” His voice was growing with anger and frustration.

“Watch me!” You try to storm past him, but his figure was much larger than yours and held you back with ease.

“I’m not letting you back in there until you sober up.”

“You don’t own me I can do what I want!” You were both full blown yelling at each other for everyone to hear, now, anger had taken over. Your speech was partially incoherent and slurred, but you still yelled with everything you had. The other members couldn’t help but overhear. Taeyong rushed out immediately to see what was going on, to find you cussing Johnny out at the top of your lungs.

“What the hell is going on??” He questioned.

“She’s high as a kite and acting out because she shouldn’t be.”

“You motherfucker!” You charged at him but Taeyong quickly interjected before you could do any damage.

“What are you on?” Taeyong was trying to calm the situation as best he could.

“Just some weed. I’m not even that high, come on.” You were defensive, now pacing in front of the two men.

“Where the hell is Yuta? He should be the one dealing with this.” Taeyong turned his back on you, now mumbling to Johnny over his shoulder.

He went off, arms crossed over his chest in frustration, pacing the stage in search of Yuta. He found his twisting some screws and adjusting the drum set. Taeyong approached him, annoyed and frustrated with the both of you.

“Your girlfriend showed up high. You need to go handle it before we get kicked out.” Yuta rolled his eyes at the front man, standing from the stool placed behind the bass drum.

They reappeared behind Johnny, Taeyong’s arms still crossed, Yuta twirling a stick in one hand. You had now taken a seat on the concrete with your arms and legs crossed in front of Johnny.

“What’s going on this time?” Yuta said with an annoyed sigh.

“Look at her. She’s a mess.” Johnny pointed his elongated index finger down at you.

“And what does that have to do with me?” Yuta could be cold at times, but you convinced yourself he loved you no matter what.

“She’s your responsibility. Maybe you should make sure she doesn’t get herself killed.” Johnny was obviously annoyed with you, and it bled into his tone towards Yuta. “Or better yet, take her to get help.”

Johnny had said it many times before, but he and the other members were noticing that the drinking and drugs were getting a bit out of hand. When you would go to parties, you would keep going until you passed out, then wake up and not remember where you were. Recently, you had started showing up to work high and meeting the members to practice after a joint. Johnny, being your best friend, had been asking you to go to a therapist or rehab or something, but you told yourself you were fine.

Yuta didn’t help, either. He didn’t seem to pay much attention to you unless he wanted something.

“She’s fine. She just needs some water and a sandwich. She’ll be alright for the show.”

He went to push past the larger male to finish setting up the kit, but Johnny blocked him.

“I don’t want her to play tonight.” His voice was low and soft, but everyone heard it. Yuta stopped in his tracks, tilting his head down, then back at you, still sitting on the ground.

“Fine. But I’m not taking her home. I still have stuff to set up. You can either wait or walk.”

“I can drive myself, thank you.” You were still defensive in your tone, shifting to get up and walk away.

“Y/N, if you get in that car, I will call the police.” Johnny was serious. He was almost never serious, but he cared for you and your safety and he didn’t want you driving like this. He grabbed your arm as you turned away from him, holding a tight grip to ensure your understanding.

“Okay, okay. I’ll walk.” You yanked your arm from his grasp, glaring at Yuta still twirling a stick, before marching off.

Something was off. Your vision was getting increasingly more difficult to manage, you felt dizzy and your head was aching. You could hear your heart thumping in your ears, it was beating so loud you thought it would burst. Your whole body shook as the ground beneath you seemed to disappear.

In an instant, you fell to the hard asphalt, your mind was totally blank. Every muscle in your body was tense and shaking uncontrollably. The next thing you remember was the world going dark, while frantic voices surrounded you.

***

You woke up in a cot filled with uncomfortable fabric, only covered by a single blanket. There was a distant beeping coming from a monitor above your head. Your head was still throbbing, and your lips were beginning to crack. You felt horrible all over, like you had been hit by a bus.

“What happened?” You mumble trying to regain your vision.

“You had a seizure in the parking lot of the show. The doctors are saying it may have been an allergic reaction to something you were on.” Now becoming clearer, the room was filled with your band mates and concerned faces, including Yuta’s, who head was held low between his knees.

“We canceled the show tonight. We’ve all talked it over,” he looked around to the other boys. “and we want to take some time for you to get better. I won’t schedule anymore shows, but please, I’m begging you, please get some help.” He looked like he was about to break down into tears, something you’d never seen before.

You looked around to the other boys. Their eyes were tinted pink and puffy as they held their heads down facing the floor. Mark looked completely traumatized from the event and Yuta wiped his reddened nose with his sleeve as he exhaled deeply.

“Okay.”

[imagines-oneshots-galore]

Talk Later?

A/N: WELCOME BACK. I got another request here, this one is with a Henderson!Reader. Again, I took some liberties with the request. I think it still fits, but it just made more sense in terms of timelines and such. Either way I hope y’all like it!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Fandom: Stranger Things (specifically Stranger Things 3)

Word Count: 1,813

Summary/ Request:  Can you do a Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader imagine where they meet up at the Starcourt before the battle and worry/asses each other’s injuries (her’s from the Mind Flayer and Steve’s from the Russians) and while they’re meant to be preparing, Steve decides it’s the time to finally confess his feelings?

Warnings: Some violence, sad times, light sexy times. 

Ao3 

Masterlist

(I don’t think that that is what he is saying in the gif, but meh, who cares. 

This was it. 

You, and all your friends, were gonna die. 

Billy was speeding towards you, his camaro’s engine was thrumming with power, and compared to the thunks and groans your car was making, you would be lucky if Jonathon’s car would even start.  

Nancy was firing shot after shot at Billy, but no matter how good of an aim she had, he didn’t seem to be slowing down. Tears clouded your vision, and you could hear the kids screams, but you could only think of your loved ones. 

“I love you Dust Bunny” you said through the walkie as you braced yourself against the back of the car. You were scared to leave your brother behind, but you had no doubt that Steve would love and take care of Dustin in your place. You just prayed that he would live to see the next day, even if you didn’t.

But instead of an impact, your head snapped up as you heard the scream of metal hitting metal and the squealing of tires. 

“Griswold family, do you copy?!” Dustin yelled over the walkie, “Y/N please! Tell me you’re okay!” you could hear the tears in his voice, so you fought through the shock to reply. 

“We’re all good Scoop Troop, a little shaken up, but we’re good” You said as you let out a breath, and looked over to Steve who sat in the driver’s seat of the TodFather. He was your knight in shining armor. Well, more like your knight in a sailor costume. 

However, your relief was short lived as you felt the ground shake, so forcefully you felt it from within the back of the car, and heard the terrifying roar of the Mindflayer as it crawled atop the destroyed Starcourt Mall. 

Thankfully, right then, Jonathon was able to get the car started, and Nancy called for Steve and Robin to jump in. Steve climbed into the back with you, and Robin managed to squeeze in with Lucas and Will. You let out a squeak as Steve grabbed you when Jonathon peeled out of the parking lot, bringing you into his lap and drowning you in a hug. You clung to him like a lifeline, breathing him in. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you had thought about him too, when you saw Billy cruising towards you. You thanked every god there was that he was okay, well, relatively okay.

“Oh my god Steve! What happened to your face?” You said as you sat back and got a good look at him. You lightly swiped your thumb under his swollen eye, before trailing it to his cheek, a frown crossing your face.  He couldn’t help but close his eyes at your soft touch, leaning into the hand that was now holding his face. He felt like he finally had a second to breath, now that you were safe in his arms. Your hands stroking his face reminded him that he did in fact have to open his eyes, and reply to you. 

“Ah, just some Russians, don’t worry about it. This is like, the third time in the last two years my face has looked like this,” He laughed, shaking his head and wrapping around his arm around your waist a little tighter as Jonathon took a sharp turn. You gasped as his fingers hit a spot on your side, and your hand flew down to cover his. 

“You okay Y/N/N?” Steve asked frantically, moving you off his lap and onto the seat, his own body switching to the floor where he put his hands on your face and arm, looking for any visible injuries. You shuddered as your hand grazed the spot again, and you felt a small amount of liquid slip through your fingers. 

“Oh my god! You’re bleeding!” Steve shrieked, causing Jonathon to swerve and Nancy to send a glare to the back. You had to stop yourself from laughing as he tried to (unsuccessfully) rip off a piece of his shirt, “need to stop the bleeding…” being mumbled under his breath. “Steve, I’m fine, it’s just a graze from some glass,” You said as you took his hands in yours, making him stop trying to rip apart his uniform. Just then, a sound came over the walkie again, one you never thought you’d actually here. 

“Dusty Buns do you copy?”

“I copy Suzie-Poo, it sounds much better now, thanks” You looked back up to Steve and you both came to the realization at the same time. 

“Suzie” 

You couldn’t help but shake your head at the craziness of it all. There you were, sitting in the back of Jonathon’s car, hearing your brother talk to his girlfriend about Planck’s constant, so that Hopper and Joyce could get into the secret Russian base underneath the mall, to shut down a machine that linked your world to an alternate dimension. Oh and not to mention the fact that there was a giant ass monster running after you. 

Speaking of the Mindflayer, he decided to make his presence known once again, by unleashing yet another ear shattering roar into the air.

Before you really thought about it, you threw yourself back into Steve’s lap, hiding your face in his neck, as his arms instinctively wrapped around you. You realized a beat later what you had done,  and immediately tried to move back. 

“S-Sorry…” You said as you pulled away slightly, not getting too far due to the arms that were still wrapped firmly around your waist. 

“S’okay,” Steve whispered, but you could tell his attention was elsewhere. Instead, as you felt your heart start thundering in your chest, you realized that he was staring at your lips. His eyes flicked back up to meet your gaze, and the next thing you knew he had crashed his lips to yours. The kiss was frantic, as if you both couldn’t get enough. Maybe it was because you both knew that it could be the last time you ever got the chance to do it, or maybe it was the thrill of finally acting upon unsaid feelings. Maybe it was a combination of both, but neither of you were complaining. 

Steve’s hands were everywhere, pulling you closer onto his lap and trailing them down your back as you gripped onto his amazing hair. Stars danced behind your eyelids as you finally got to kiss the boy you had been crushing on since middle school. It was horrible timing, but who were you to question fate?

While you and Steve were off in your own bubble of teenage hormones, Robin and Will were sat upfront, both amused and horrified by not only your makeout session, but with Dustin and Suzie singing “The Never Ending Story” over the walkie. 

“What on EARTH is happening right now?! There is a monster chasing us while Steve and Y/N are making out in the back and Dustin is doing karaoke!” Lucas shouted as he looked at the remainder of the group. Robin and WIll shrugged, prepared to let it go in favor of focusing on getting away from the MindFlayer. But then Robin heard Steve groan and she did NOT want to hear what other sounds the two of you could make if she let you continue.  

“Steve! Y/N!” Robin said as she threw a can at Steve’s head. You broke apart immediately, with Steve glaring at Robin as he rubbed the back of his head. 

“We’ll talk later?” You asked through a laugh, even though Robin had ruined a moment, you had to admit that she had good aim. 

“Yeah, yeah sounds good!” Steve said as he cleared his throat, trying to discreetly shift under you without you noticing...

“Oh my god! Steve’s got a boner!” Lucas shouted, laughing maniacally as Steve turned a bright shade of red.

“C’mon man! Not cool!” Steve looked back to you, trying to gauge your reaction, but your gaze was locked onto the back window.

“Hey guys!” You said nervously, getting the attention of the entire car. “It’s turning around”

“What?” Nancy asked from the front. 

“It’s turning around,” 

“Maybe we wore it out?” Lucas suggested.

“I don’t think so, hold on!” 

Jonathon said as whipped the car around, flying back towards Starcourt Mall

~~~~

In the end, the battle had been won, but the victory didn’t come without a price.

Max had left without her step brother, and although he had been a dick to everyone, including you, you knew of what went on behind closed doors. You also knew that he had been possessed, like Will had been, his actions weren’t of his own free will. 

He was a kid that had been taken advantage of, and was a victim like everyone else. In the end he had sacrificed himself to Save El, a girl he had just met, because she showed him two minutes of kindness. 

You believed that Billy Hargrove deserved better than the fate that was handed to him. 

And El, poor El, lost the only parental figure she had. Hopper’s death was felt by all of you, and it was going to take a long time for the party to heal from those wounds. He too, had given his life for the world, and there wasn’t even ash left to remember him by. 

It was a grueling few months that followed. You’d attended both Billy’s and Hopper’s funerals, and helped the Byers, including El, move out of Hawkins. The only thing that got you through those tough times, was your boyfriend Steve. He had held your hand and wrapped his arms around you through the night when you were plagued by nightmares. He meant the world to you, and you thanked the stars every day that he had come into your life. 

“Hey Steve?” You asked as you laid upon his chest, his steady heartbeat thumping under your ear. 

He hummed in reply, his eyes closed and relaxed, fingers softly carding through your hair.

“I just wanted to say that I love you” He opened his eyes then, and you nearly melted when you saw the pure adoration shining in them.

“I love you too Y/N, more than you know,” He said as he leaned down, pulling you closer to his body and kissing you like your life depended on it. The fire still burned as bright as it had that night, if not more so, and before you knew it, Steve had laid himself on top of you, seemingly now shirtless. You felt his mouth start to trail from your lips, to your jaw, to the curve of your…

The door burst open, and to your horror, Dustin strolled in without a care in the world. You tried to throw Steve off as fast as possible, but the damage was done. 

“OH GOD, MY EYES!”