#we’re taking a little snack and sanity break

[bromcommie]

see the problem with watching (and liveblogging) catws as opposed to catfa is that catfa is a big romp and a simpler kind of enjoyable and while it still makes me have a million thoughts and makes me incredibly nostalgic it’s mostly in a fun way and other than that last 20 minutes most of the sad bits are just me drawing my own retroactive conclusions. catws starts off sooo unassuming and yet it makes me insane in a “no but they put that in there they really put that in there and then didn’t know what to do with it after” way from minute one. in a “I want to peel this thing like an onion and write a fucking analytical essay about every single scene and layer for reasons neither god nor the writers of this godforsaken movie intended me to think about” way. and also literally all of it is fucking sad including the funny parts. so now what

[themovieblogonline]

FROM Season 3 Episode 2 Review: Boyd’s Breaking Point and Major Twists

Yo, FROMily, grab a snack, and buckle up because FROM just hit us with another wild episode! I’m not saying this show thrives on throwing curveballs, but every time you think you've got it figured out, BAM!—you're left dazed, confused, and wondering what the heck is going on. Today, we’re diving into FROM Season 3 Episode 2, and let me tell you, Boyd (Harold Perrineau) is carrying the weight of this twisted little world on his back. This dude’s in the trenches—and I mean, real trenches. https://youtu.be/0KCxDotZPQ8 This episode kicks off with Boyd and Jade, the odd couple we never knew we needed. Jade's finally manning up and facing the aftermath of Tian-Chen’s death. And who’s still standing there, emotionally wrecked? Boyd. Let’s be real, Harold Perrineau is putting on a masterclass in "emotionally tormented sheriff stuck in a nightmare town." Boyd’s still reeling from having to watch the peoplecreaturemonsters torture Tian-Chen, and it’s taking a toll on his sanity. As much as Boyd wants to protect the town, this episode paints a clear picture—he’s running on empty. The way Perrineau delivers those scenes? It’s like watching a slow-motion car crash, but you can’t look away. You just feel for the guy. Someone hand this man a very stiff drink of Sable bourbon. Meanwhile in ‘WTF is Happening’ Land... While Boyd’s spiraling, Jim and Kenny are over here discovering a magical patch of vegetables—because why not? Honestly, at this point, FROM has no rules. Like, who even knows where this random lake came from, but hey, at least the town’s got some fresh veggies now! Meanwhile, Tabatha is out in the real world living her best “I’ve just escaped a nightmare town” life, trying to get Henry to believe her. But instead of “Hey, let’s talk about this spooky-ass town,” Henry's more concerned about his son’s lunchbox like it's some kind of holy relic. Monsters, Manipulation, and Mayhem Let’s not forget the highlight of the episode—Kenny. My dude is DONE playing it safe. He’s got the vodka, he’s got the rage, and he’s ready to burn those peoplecreaturemonsters into the ground. And honestly? Same, Kenny. Same. This is the type of energy we needed after watching his mom suffer. It’s about time someone went full Die Hard on these monsters. But Kenny isn't the only one on edge. Even Boyd’s done pretending there’s a way out—his big plan? Catch one of those creatures. (Boyd, please tell me you’re joking.) There’s a powerful moment when Boyd shares the final words of Tian-Chen, “Take care of him. He’ll be alone now.” Perrineau’s delivery? It hits hard—like a punch straight to the gut. Damn you, FROM, for making us care about these characters only to tear them away. But it’s that kind of pain that keeps us coming back, episode after episode. What the Heck is Fatima Eating!? Now, we have to talk about Fatima, because, honestly, this girl is dealing with some next-level pregnancy cravings. Rotten crops? Really, Fatima? You can see the demon baby’s influence on her, and it's gross. She’s practically shoveling compost down her throat like it’s some kind of delicacy. Yo, Ellis, get your girl to Kristy STAT because something ain’t right with that baby. Julie Has Time Today Oh, and speaking of people who are over it—Julie. She finally rips into Jim for always playing the absentee dad. Jim, buddy, you’ve been coasting on “I’m doing my best,” but Julie’s here to remind you that your best ain't cutting it. It’s about time she let him have it, and it’s low-key satisfying to watch her lay it all out. No more playing mom, no more pretending things are okay—Julie’s done with the bullshit. Final Thoughts on Episode 2: So, FROM Season 3 Episode 2 gave us some answers, but more importantly, it gave us a deeper look into the fragile state of the town—and Boyd. Harold Perrineau really stole the show with his haunting portrayal of a man at the brink. But as always, this show loves to dangle clues in front of us, only to snatch them away before we can grasp what’s really happening. I’m still trying to piece together what’s going on with these monsters, but trust me, I’ll be back next week—more confused, more invested, and, probably, more traumatized. Read the full article

[calgarymover]

THE REAL SCOOP ON THE COST OF MOVING IN CALGARY: AN INSIDER’S GUIDE

Hello, future movers! 🚚 If you’ve found your way to this page, the winds of change are probably blowing your way, steering your ship toward the vibrant, cowboy-hat-tipping city of Calgary! So, you’ve bagged a charming piece of real estate property in this dynamic city, huh? Awesome choice! Now, swivel your chairs, because we’re about to unravel the mystique around the "cost of moving your household in Calgary". But worry not! This ain’t your ordinary, bland price tag rundown; instead, it's your all-access, back-stage pass to mastering the art of moving without breaking the bank or your spirit!

The Big Moving Day Puzzle: What Influences the Cost?

Moving isn���t merely a game of packing and unpacking; it’s more like conducting an orchestra where various elements sing in harmony (or sometimes, in chaos!). Let’s decode the cost symphony!

The Movers and Shakers: Professional Moving Companies

Choosing a professional mover? Be ready for quotes that move (pun intended!) as swiftly as Calgary’s winds!

Base Charges: You've got your fixed costs, like the hourly rates or flat fees. As a rule, if you move locally (within typically 150-300 km radius) your moving charge will be based on actual service time at the quote hourly service rate

Season Swings: Summer moves are in hot demand, pushing prices north! Hourly rates are around 10-15% lower during winter time comparing to busy summer season, however there is a chance that your move will take slightly longer in winter due to snow/ice and other weather factors. Overall, the cost of moving in wintertime will end up costing you about the same comparing to moving in summer.

Weekend Waves: Planning to move during a weekend? Expect the cost meters to whirl faster! Booking well in advance will allow you to get best possible rate even on weekends.

DIY Daredevils: Renting a Moving Truck

Feel the adrenaline rush of a DIY move? Buckle up for a ride through the renting costs!

Truck Rental: Size and type will steer your costs, so choose wisely!

Gas and Mileage: Keep those extra miles and fuel costs on your radar!

Insurance Ingenuity: Don’t skimp here; better safe than sorry!

Unpacking Hidden Gems: The Surprise Costs

Ever felt the "why didn’t I see that coming?" blues? Well, the moving saga has its fair share of surprise tracks!

Packing Paradise or Puzzle?

Boxes and Supplies: They’re like the unsung heroes of your moving opera! The better you pack the smoother your move will go. A rule of thumb is whatever fits in a box should be packed in a box.  

Special Handling: Got a piano or artwork? Special items belt out special tunes in the cost choir!

Storage Fee: If your possession dates don’t match and your new place is not ready when you need to vacate your old one, you might require short term storage. Ask your mover if they consider to leave items on a truck or a trailer, if it’s only couple days, and also depending on time of the year and how temperature sensitive your belongings are. Some moving companies might sweeten the deal by throwing couple weeks of complimentary storage in their estimate at their warehouse facility.

Snacking, Sipping, and Sanity: The Human Factor

Never underestimate the power of a well-fed moving crew or a coffee-fueled you!

Refreshments: Keep the energy vibes high!

Tipping Time: Show some love to your hard-working movers! People normally tip anywhere between 10-20% of the total bill, depending on how happy they are with the service.

Real-Talk Recommendations: Savvy Moving Tips

Who doesn’t love a good hack to make life easier and pockets heavier? Here’s the inside scoop to maneuver through the cost maze like a pro!

Compare and Conquer: Get at least 3 quotes, and may the best mover win! Don’t go with the lowest quote. Pay attention on little things like phone etiquette, how prompt the stuff get back to you answering your questions, what questions they ask you prior to providing an estimate, etc. Reading online reviews will provide more intel on the company of your choice. Take time reading some about each company.

Timing is Everything: Avoid peak times to enjoy some cost-cutting! Booking well in advance (say 6-8 weeks) might actually get you a better rate even if booking during peak times.

Declutter Divas and Dons: Less stuff, less hassle, and hello savings! The more staff you have, then longer your move will take, and the bigger dent it will leave on your pocket.

FAQs: Fast-Track Your Moving Mastery

Q: How can I save on professional moving services in Calgary? A: Book well in advance, 4-6 weeks in advance to qualify for best possible rate. Try scheduling your move during off-peak times or weekdays, and always compare quotes! Get quotes from 2-3 companies. Do not go with the lowest quote. As a rule, you get for you pay for.

Q: Are there any surprise costs I should brace myself for? A: Absolutely! Keep an eye out for extra costs like packing materials, disassembly and reassembly of larger and complex furniture, exercise equipment, handling fees for specialty and heavy items like piano, hot tub, safe, pool table, trampoline, extra heavy and bulky items and delicate items, and don’t forget to factor in tips and refreshments!

Q: Can I cut costs by doing the packing myself? A: You bet! Rolling up your sleeves can certainly help save some dollars! There are tons of online video tutorials on how to do pretty much everything in your day-to-day life, including packing and moving. Keep in mind, movers will not be liable for damages to goods inside owner packed boxes, unless they outright dropped a box and there are clear signs of external crash damage visible on the box. Getting moving company to pack and move everything will cost extra, however it also provides a peace of mind. A full packing service will cost you around 100-120% of the moving cost. In case of a damages to boxed items, a moving company will be liable. Enquire with each moving company about their valuation options, limitations and also damage claim policy prior to booking.

Conclusion: Turning the Cost Tide in Your Favor

Voila! You’re now in the driver’s seat, cruising through the "cost of moving in Calgary" landscape with newfound wisdom and flair! It might seem like a rollercoaster, but with smart moves and a sprinkle of savvy, you're all set to sway the moving costs to dance to your tunes! So, gear up, steer smart, and here’s to a move that’s as smooth and joyful as a Calgary sunset! 🌄

About Sparta Movers

Sparta Movers is a trusted name in the moving industry, dedicated to providing top-notch services to individuals and businesses alike. Our experienced team prides itself on ensuring that each move is seamless, efficient, and stress-free. Whether you're relocating within Calgary, moving across Canada, or anywhere around the world, Sparta Movers is here to assist you with every step of the way.

Sparta Movers is one of very few moving companies in Calgary certified by the Canadian Association of Movers. They are also recommended by Bryan Baeumler, A+ rated by Better Business Bureau (BBB), proud member of Calgary Chamber of Commerce.

At Sparta Movers, we understand the challenge of finding reasonably priced moving company that operates with integrity, courtesy and honesty. We are proud to be that professional moving company! You deserve only the best. We are here to deliver uncompromising quality and excellent service at affordable rates!

To learn more about our services and how we can make your next move a success, visit our website https://spartamovers.com/ and talk to one of our moving consultants today!

[calgarymoverssparta]

THE REAL SCOOP ON THE COST OF MOVING IN CALGARY: AN INSIDER’S GUIDE

Hello, future movers! 🚚 If you’ve found your way to this page, the winds of change are probably blowing your way, steering your ship toward the vibrant, cowboy-hat-tipping city of Calgary! So, you’ve bagged a charming piece of real estate property in this dynamic city, huh? Awesome choice! Now, swivel your chairs, because we’re about to unravel the mystique around the "cost of moving your household in Calgary". But worry not! This ain’t your ordinary, bland price tag rundown; instead, it's your all-access, back-stage pass to mastering the art of moving without breaking the bank or your spirit!

The Big Moving Day Puzzle: What Influences the Cost?

Moving isn’t merely a game of packing and unpacking; it’s more like conducting an orchestra where various elements sing in harmony (or sometimes, in chaos!). Let’s decode the cost symphony!

The Movers and Shakers: Professional Moving Companies

Choosing a professional mover? Be ready for quotes that move (pun intended!) as swiftly as Calgary’s winds!

Base Charges: You've got your fixed costs, like the hourly rates or flat fees. As a rule, if you move locally (within typically 150-300 km radius) your moving charge will be based on actual service time at the quote hourly service rate

Season Swings: Summer moves are in hot demand, pushing prices north! Hourly rates are around 10-15% lower during winter time comparing to busy summer season, however there is a chance that your move will take slightly longer in winter due to snow/ice and other weather factors. Overall, the cost of moving in wintertime will end up costing you about the same comparing to moving in summer.

Weekend Waves: Planning to move during a weekend? Expect the cost meters to whirl faster! Booking well in advance will allow you to get best possible rate even on weekends.

DIY Daredevils: Renting a Moving Truck

Feel the adrenaline rush of a DIY move? Buckle up for a ride through the renting costs!

Truck Rental: Size and type will steer your costs, so choose wisely!

Gas and Mileage: Keep those extra miles and fuel costs on your radar!

Insurance Ingenuity: Don’t skimp here; better safe than sorry!

Unpacking Hidden Gems: The Surprise Costs

Ever felt the "why didn’t I see that coming?" blues? Well, the moving saga has its fair share of surprise tracks!

Packing Paradise or Puzzle?

Boxes and Supplies: They’re like the unsung heroes of your moving opera! The better you pack the smoother your move will go. A rule of thumb is whatever fits in a box should be packed in a box.  

Special Handling: Got a piano or artwork? Special items belt out special tunes in the cost choir!

Storage Fee: If your possession dates don’t match and your new place is not ready when you need to vacate your old one, you might require short term storage. Ask your mover if they consider to leave items on a truck or a trailer, if it’s only couple days, and also depending on time of the year and how temperature sensitive your belongings are. Some moving companies might sweeten the deal by throwing couple weeks of complimentary storage in their estimate at their warehouse facility.

Snacking, Sipping, and Sanity: The Human Factor

Never underestimate the power of a well-fed moving crew or a coffee-fueled you!

Refreshments: Keep the energy vibes high!

Tipping Time: Show some love to your hard-working movers! People normally tip anywhere between 10-20% of the total bill, depending on how happy they are with the service.

Real-Talk Recommendations: Savvy Moving Tips

Who doesn’t love a good hack to make life easier and pockets heavier? Here’s the inside scoop to maneuver through the cost maze like a pro!

Compare and Conquer: Get at least 3 quotes, and may the best mover win! Don’t go with the lowest quote. Pay attention on little things like phone etiquette, how prompt the stuff get back to you answering your questions, what questions they ask you prior to providing an estimate, etc. Reading online reviews will provide more intel on the company of your choice. Take time reading some about each company.

Timing is Everything: Avoid peak times to enjoy some cost-cutting! Booking well in advance (say 6-8 weeks) might actually get you a better rate even if booking during peak times.

Declutter Divas and Dons: Less stuff, less hassle, and hello savings! The more staff you have, then longer your move will take, and the bigger dent it will leave on your pocket.

FAQs: Fast-Track Your Moving Mastery

Q: How can I save on professional moving services in Calgary? A: Book well in advance, 4-6 weeks in advance to qualify for best possible rate. Try scheduling your move during off-peak times or weekdays, and always compare quotes! Get quotes from 2-3 companies. Do not go with the lowest quote. As a rule, you get for you pay for.

Q: Are there any surprise costs I should brace myself for? A: Absolutely! Keep an eye out for extra costs like packing materials, disassembly and reassembly of larger and complex furniture, exercise equipment, handling fees for specialty and heavy items like piano, hot tub, safe, pool table, trampoline, extra heavy and bulky items and delicate items, and don’t forget to factor in tips and refreshments!

Q: Can I cut costs by doing the packing myself? A: You bet! Rolling up your sleeves can certainly help save some dollars! There are tons of online video tutorials on how to do pretty much everything in your day-to-day life, including packing and moving. Keep in mind, movers will not be liable for damages to goods inside owner packed boxes, unless they outright dropped a box and there are clear signs of external crash damage visible on the box. Getting moving company to pack and move everything will cost extra, however it also provides a peace of mind. A full packing service will cost you around 100-120% of the moving cost. In case of a damages to boxed items, a moving company will be liable. Enquire with each moving company about their valuation options, limitations and also damage claim policy prior to booking.

Conclusion: Turning the Cost Tide in Your Favor

Voila! You’re now in the driver’s seat, cruising through the "cost of moving in Calgary" landscape with newfound wisdom and flair! It might seem like a rollercoaster, but with smart moves and a sprinkle of savvy, you're all set to sway the moving costs to dance to your tunes! So, gear up, steer smart, and here’s to a move that’s as smooth and joyful as a Calgary sunset! 🌄

About Sparta Movers

Sparta Movers is a trusted name in the moving industry, dedicated to providing top-notch services to individuals and businesses alike. Our experienced team prides itself on ensuring that each move is seamless, efficient, and stress-free. Whether you're relocating within Calgary, moving across Canada, or anywhere around the world, Sparta Movers is here to assist you with every step of the way.

Sparta Movers is one of very few moving companies in Calgary certified by the Canadian Association of Movers. They are also recommended by Bryan Baeumler, A+ rated by Better Business Bureau (BBB), proud member of Calgary Chamber of Commerce.

At Sparta Movers, we understand the challenge of finding reasonably priced moving company that operates with integrity, courtesy and honesty. We are proud to be that professional moving company! You deserve only the best. We are here to deliver uncompromising quality and excellent service at affordable rates!

To learn more about our services and how we can make your next move a success, visit our website https://spartamovers.com/ and talk to one of our moving consultants today!

[spartamover]

THE REAL SCOOP ON THE COST OF MOVING IN CALGARY: AN INSIDER’S GUIDE

Hello, future movers! 🚚 If you’ve found your way to this page, the winds of change are probably blowing your way, steering your ship toward the vibrant, cowboy-hat-tipping city of Calgary! So, you’ve bagged a charming piece of real estate property in this dynamic city, huh? Awesome choice! Now, swivel your chairs, because we’re about to unravel the mystique around the "cost of moving your household in Calgary". But worry not! This ain’t your ordinary, bland price tag rundown; instead, it's your all-access, back-stage pass to mastering the art of moving without breaking the bank or your spirit!

The Big Moving Day Puzzle: What Influences the Cost?

Moving isn’t merely a game of packing and unpacking; it’s more like conducting an orchestra where various elements sing in harmony (or sometimes, in chaos!). Let’s decode the cost symphony!

The Movers and Shakers: Professional Moving Companies

Choosing a professional mover? Be ready for quotes that move (pun intended!) as swiftly as Calgary’s winds!

Base Charges: You've got your fixed costs, like the hourly rates or flat fees. As a rule, if you move locally (within typically 150-300 km radius) your moving charge will be based on actual service time at the quote hourly service rate

Season Swings: Summer moves are in hot demand, pushing prices north! Hourly rates are around 10-15% lower during winter time comparing to busy summer season, however there is a chance that your move will take slightly longer in winter due to snow/ice and other weather factors. Overall, the cost of moving in wintertime will end up costing you about the same comparing to moving in summer.

Weekend Waves: Planning to move during a weekend? Expect the cost meters to whirl faster! Booking well in advance will allow you to get best possible rate even on weekends.

DIY Daredevils: Renting a Moving Truck

Feel the adrenaline rush of a DIY move? Buckle up for a ride through the renting costs!

Truck Rental: Size and type will steer your costs, so choose wisely!

Gas and Mileage: Keep those extra miles and fuel costs on your radar!

Insurance Ingenuity: Don’t skimp here; better safe than sorry!

Unpacking Hidden Gems: The Surprise Costs

Ever felt the "why didn’t I see that coming?" blues? Well, the moving saga has its fair share of surprise tracks!

Packing Paradise or Puzzle?

Boxes and Supplies: They’re like the unsung heroes of your moving opera! The better you pack the smoother your move will go. A rule of thumb is whatever fits in a box should be packed in a box.  

Special Handling: Got a piano or artwork? Special items belt out special tunes in the cost choir!

Storage Fee: If your possession dates don’t match and your new place is not ready when you need to vacate your old one, you might require short term storage. Ask your mover if they consider to leave items on a truck or a trailer, if it’s only couple days, and also depending on time of the year and how temperature sensitive your belongings are. Some moving companies might sweeten the deal by throwing couple weeks of complimentary storage in their estimate at their warehouse facility.

Snacking, Sipping, and Sanity: The Human Factor

Never underestimate the power of a well-fed moving crew or a coffee-fueled you!

Refreshments: Keep the energy vibes high!

Tipping Time: Show some love to your hard-working movers! People normally tip anywhere between 10-20% of the total bill, depending on how happy they are with the service.

Real-Talk Recommendations: Savvy Moving Tips

Who doesn’t love a good hack to make life easier and pockets heavier? Here’s the inside scoop to maneuver through the cost maze like a pro!

Compare and Conquer: Get at least 3 quotes, and may the best mover win! Don’t go with the lowest quote. Pay attention on little things like phone etiquette, how prompt the stuff get back to you answering your questions, what questions they ask you prior to providing an estimate, etc. Reading online reviews will provide more intel on the company of your choice. Take time reading some about each company.

Timing is Everything: Avoid peak times to enjoy some cost-cutting! Booking well in advance (say 6-8 weeks) might actually get you a better rate even if booking during peak times.

Declutter Divas and Dons: Less stuff, less hassle, and hello savings! The more staff you have, then longer your move will take, and the bigger dent it will leave on your pocket.

FAQs: Fast-Track Your Moving Mastery

Q: How can I save on professional moving services in Calgary? A: Book well in advance, 4-6 weeks in advance to qualify for best possible rate. Try scheduling your move during off-peak times or weekdays, and always compare quotes! Get quotes from 2-3 companies. Do not go with the lowest quote. As a rule, you get for you pay for.

Q: Are there any surprise costs I should brace myself for? A: Absolutely! Keep an eye out for extra costs like packing materials, disassembly and reassembly of larger and complex furniture, exercise equipment, handling fees for specialty and heavy items like piano, hot tub, safe, pool table, trampoline, extra heavy and bulky items and delicate items, and don’t forget to factor in tips and refreshments!

Q: Can I cut costs by doing the packing myself? A: You bet! Rolling up your sleeves can certainly help save some dollars! There are tons of online video tutorials on how to do pretty much everything in your day-to-day life, including packing and moving. Keep in mind, movers will not be liable for damages to goods inside owner packed boxes, unless they outright dropped a box and there are clear signs of external crash damage visible on the box. Getting moving company to pack and move everything will cost extra, however it also provides a peace of mind. A full packing service will cost you around 100-120% of the moving cost. In case of a damages to boxed items, a moving company will be liable. Enquire with each moving company about their valuation options, limitations and also damage claim policy prior to booking.

Conclusion: Turning the Cost Tide in Your Favor

Voila! You’re now in the driver’s seat, cruising through the "cost of moving in Calgary" landscape with newfound wisdom and flair! It might seem like a rollercoaster, but with smart moves and a sprinkle of savvy, you're all set to sway the moving costs to dance to your tunes! So, gear up, steer smart, and here’s to a move that’s as smooth and joyful as a Calgary sunset! 🌄

About Sparta Movers

Sparta Movers is a trusted name in the moving industry, dedicated to providing top-notch services to individuals and businesses alike. Our experienced team prides itself on ensuring that each move is seamless, efficient, and stress-free. Whether you're relocating within Calgary, moving across Canada, or anywhere around the world, Sparta Movers is here to assist you with every step of the way.

Sparta Movers is one of very few moving companies in Calgary certified by the Canadian Association of Movers. They are also recommended by Bryan Baeumler, A+ rated by Better Business Bureau (BBB), proud member of Calgary Chamber of Commerce.

At Sparta Movers, we understand the challenge of finding reasonably priced moving company that operates with integrity, courtesy and honesty. We are proud to be that professional moving company! You deserve only the best. We are here to deliver uncompromising quality and excellent service at affordable rates!

To learn more about our services and how we can make your next move a success, visit our website https://spartamovers.com/ and talk to one of our moving consultants today!

[mixelation]

apparently i am just in a sabriel mood lately

(gabriel bothers sam, 600 words)

Sam does his morning run up a hiking trail at dawn. The trail deadends at an outcrop of rocks most of the way up a mountain, and Sam sits on the ground and eats from a bag of gas station almonds. He watches the rest of the sunrise over the little southern town and the surrounding farmlands, and contemplates how peaceful it all looks.

Of course, Sam’s in town, so that means there’s some sort of monster sucking people’s insides out and leaving their husks in trees. So, that’s pleasant.

“Boy, you are real hard to find,” someone quips, and Sam drops his almonds and has his gun out in less than a second.

Gabriel just quirks an eyebrow at him. “You greet all the boys like that, or are you just happy to see me?”

Sam lets out a huff and lowers the gun. “What do you want?”

Gabriel shrugs and plops down next to Sam, brushing spilled almonds out of the way.

Sam gingerly picks up his discarded Blue Diamond almonds bag in dismay. Most of the almonds are on the ground now, and Gabriel picks up a few.

“Unsalted?” Gabriel asks judgmentally. “Really?”

“You try finding a healthy snack in a gas��” Sam starts and then cuts himself off. No, Gabriel is clearly trying to distract him. “Do you need something?”

The almonds in Gabriel’s hand morph into an Almond Joy. Gabriel unwraps the candy bar and takes a bite.

“Where’s your brother?” he asks through a mouthful.

“We’re taking a sanity break from each other,” Sam says. There wasn’t a fight or a fallout or anything; they just… can’t live on top of each other indefinitely. “What do you want?”

Gabriel offers him a bite of the Almond Joy, and Sam feels his lips thin into what Dean calls his bitchface. So much for a sanity break.

With half an Almond Joy sticking out of his mouth, Gabriel leans forward and pokes Sam in the side. He’s shameless, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He pokes Sam again, and Sam swats his hand away.

Gabriel says something incomprehensible through the Almond Joy, then shoves the rest of it into his mouth and tosses the wrapper aside.

“Hey!” Sam protests, throwing himself forward to grab it out of the air. What kind of angel of the lord litters?

“Are your super inconvenient angel-blocking sigils carved into your ribs?” Gabriel demands. He sounds offended, like Sam was personally blocking Gabriel specifically from finding him.

Sam finds himself self-consciously rubbing at his side– at the lower part of his ribcage Gabriel had been poking.

“Courtesy of Cas,” he says. “Do you want something, Gabriel?”

Gabriel groans very dramatically, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his elbows with an incredibly put-upon expression on his face.

“I’m bored, Sammy,” Gabriel complains, sounding exactly like a petulant child. “No more apocalypse, half my god buddies are dead– what’s a guy to do?”

Gabriel then peers up at Sam, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that puts Sam right on edge, even as Gabriel attempts puppy eyes.

“What’ve you got going on?” Gabriel asks. “Werewolves? Witches? Possessed mountain lion?”

Sam shifts, absentmindedly resealing his almond bag and zipping it and Gabriel’s wrapper into his running belt bag (which is not a fanny pack, no matter what Dean says).

“Are you…” Sam withholds a wince, “offering to help?”

Gabriel brightens, sitting up and slapping Sam on the shoulder. “Well, if you want my help!”

This is not at all how Sam thought this hunt was going to go.

[larryjohnsonsbitch]

Possesive!Larry x reader

i said it would be out tomorrow but i’m god so it’s here now haha

let me know if you would like me to make one with gender neutral pronouns

word count: 2593

she/her pronouns

Warnings: smut, alcohol, possesive behaviour, sal x reader kiss, 

You had been dating Larry for a while now, he’s your first boyfriend and you couldn’t be happier with him. He always comes to your work during your breaks and even sits down at a table and orders drinks while he waits you to finish your shift, so there he sat now looking at you so tenderly it made your heart race. He had been here for around 2 hours, ordering various drinks while switching between watching you and going on his phone, the only thing you worried about was how long he had been waiting for you, and that you still had another hour ‘till knock off. So, you continued serving tables and taking orders, making sure he was okay when you could to which he’d reply “I love you enough to wait” with a squeeze of your arm, it didn’t really answer the question but nothing stopped him from leaving so it stayed like that until you finished and as you took of the apron which the restaurant made you wear you felt a pair of arms around your waist and a face nestling into your neck, you laughed. Spinning around to face him and peck his cheek. “I don’t like you talking to all those guys” he pouted “why can’t you just stay with me” he finished the sentence with a kiss to your head and you had never felt more loved.

“I would love to stay with you, Larry, but I have to work so I can pay rent” you smiled, setting down the apron, taking his hand in yours and lightly squeezing it. “lets go, love”

You and Larry walked back to the apartments, hand in hand, until you reached his room. Flopping down on the bed he opened his arms for you to come cuddle him, you happily obliged settling between his legs, your head on his chest as you listened to his heart, his hand made its way to your hair tugging on some strands as he brushed through it with his fingers. “I’ve seen all of you and your flaws ,I still love all of you so much” he said into your hair “I don’t think many others would”

The sentence sat wrongly in your stomach, you couldn’t tell why though. He was right. Not many people would love you flaws and all. So in response you lifted your head, pressed a kiss to his lips

“I know” you said lips still so close you could feel his breath.

The two of you laid like that for hours before Larry spoke again. “Sal invited me over for a movie tomorrow, I want you to come too seems its your day off. I hate when we’re apart” you agreed to go and before you knew it you were asleep, nestled closely to Larry.

 The next day you and Larry were at Sal, Todd and Neil’s place snacks in hand, Larry’s arm was around your waist as you waited for Sal to answer the door. Todd and Neil were out for a date for the day so Sal had the place to himself. The front door opened revealing Sal, his hair down and mask on but with the lower straps unbuckled to allow him to eat, he stepped back allowing you and Larry through the door. “hey guys, good to see you” you couldn’t se his face but you assumed he was smiling by the way his mask moved upward. You walked inside Larry’s hand on your waist felt much tighter now.

“yeah dude, wouldn’t miss watching a horror movie with you man” Larry said while making himself comfortable on the couch in front of the tv, snacks discarded on the coffee table, the horror you were about to be watching was sitting beside them , ‘Scream’ it had been released earlier this year but you had never gotten around to seeing it. Sal came over sitting beside Larry, putting himself in the middle, you sat beside him turning to look at Larry he looked a little annoyed.

“you alright, love?” you asked, trying to make sure he was alright.

“come here” he said his voice was soft but far too stern, your eyebrows perked up as you got up going to stand in front of him awkwardly, he grabbed your hands a little too hard as he pulled you into his lap. You were shocked as he wrapped his arms around you caging you in, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“how’s your day been dude” Larry asked Sal, Sal seemed just as surprised as you were, his ears were red. He was probably embarrassed to be sitting right next to Larry as that happened.

“uh, uhm, alright I guess” he said, grabbing the movie and putting it into the DVD player. “are you guys going to that party on Saturday?”

“I mean I would like to..” You looked to Larry, you wanted to go but wouldn’t go if he wasn’t coming.

Larry obviously got the hint as he said “Yeah, it’d be cool to see everyone” and that was the end of the conversation. You each settled in, getting comfortable as Sal pressed play on the movie

The movie was great and you all ended up more comfortable at the end of it, despit the multiple scares you had.

“oh yeah! Sal you just got the Nintendo 64, right?” you said, you nearly completely forgot to ask, you had heard Larry mention it briefly and you wanted to see if Sal would let you come over so you and him could play together sometime.

“yeah, I did, why? You wanna play sometime?” he asked

“omg, yes please! I was gifted Mario Cart but I haven’t been able to play it yet” you pouted and Sal laughed “but yeah I’d love to play it together if that chill with you?” you hardly noticed Larry grip tightening around your hips as you talked.

“yeah, that’d be awesome! Come ‘round whenever, you’re always welcome” you smiled at the words and he rubbed the back his neck; that’s when Larry started lightly biting the sweet spot on your neck, your back arched and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to stop any sounds. Your face was hot and you felt far too embarrassed to stay in the room.

“i-I-I I’m just gonna quickly go to the bath-bathroom” your words struggled to come out smoothly due to the embarrassment. You quickly rushed to the bathroom; hands braced against the bathroom sink as you tried to calm down. Once your face was no longer burning and your heart and breathing were steady once more you stood up as straight as you could and walked out hearing the hushed whispers of Sal and Larry, they were fighting. You didn’t wanna intrude but it was hard not to let curiosity beat you.

“dude, I don’t like her what the fuck, I would never do that” it was Sal

“why were you eye-fucking her since we walked through the door then” Larry was angrier than you had heard him before.

“I wasn’t, dude, I don’t know what’s going on but you can’t just embarrass a girl like that, she looked ready to cry before”

“so you do like her?”

“what! NO!” they weren’t whispering and you decided to make them stop by heading back to te bathroom and yelling back to them.

“you guys aright out there?” Larry was the one who answered

“yeah babe but I think we should get going now, I forgot that my mum asked me to help out with putting up a shelf”

“okay then” you walked back out to them, smiling, they couldn’t know that you had heard them. Sal was refusing to even look at you, you held onto Larry’s arm “thanks so much, for inviting us we had a lot of fun, right babe?” you tugged softly on Larry’s arm.

“yeah, sure” he rubbed his neck with his free hand and looked anywhere but at Sal.

“it was no problem, thanks for coming” you felt bad for leaving with Larry while they were on such bad terms but there wasn’t much else you could do. The entire walk back to the apartments Larry was pouty, stealing kisses when he could. As you got back he went to Lisa reluctantly following through with his lie to leave Sal’s. it was only an hour before he was back with you in his room listening to Sanity falls and acting like nothing was wrong.

…

You could hear the music and see the flashing lights of the party from a few houses away, you and Larry walked hand in hand, He squeezed three times ‘i.love.you’ you smiled squeezing back. It was a comfortable silence around you two, you had already talked about your days’ and what you planned to do tomorrow and your plans to move in together once you’d saved up enough money. It was nice, knowing you weren’t going to have to face all the new adult stuff you had to do now you were 20 and fully out of school, alone. As the party came into view you could see most people were already wasted, red cups littered across the lawn along with steamers and someone’s pants. You laughed at the sight; it was a bigger party than you had originally expected but you had no doubt you would at least know most the people there considering how small Nockfell was.

The music was some upbeat pop band and the house was smelt like beer and sweaty bodies. People were dancing and you and Larry had to force yourself through the crowd, it took a while but you eventually found the gang, even ash was there. You hugged each of them, complimented ash on her new hair and you all fell into conversation but the tension between Sal and Larry was obvious. Larry stopped you from drinking saying that he just wants you to be sober and that the alcohol isn’t good for you even as he made his way through his own drinks and after two hours the gang -minus Todd and Neil who had disappeared into a random bedroom earlier- and some kids you went to school with were in a game of spin the bottle. Larry and Sal sat opposite you and ash was a couple people away so far neither you, Larry or Sal had had to kiss anyone and it was soon Sals turn, he leaned forward spinning the bottle, it spun around quickly but a few seconds later it slowed. Landing on you.

The tension in the air was thick and you expected Sal to spin again, but he looked between you and Larry, once and then again; and just like that he was in front of you a hand to your cheek, he lifted his mask enough for his lips to show; you could feel him shaking through the hand on your cheek, your heart was hammering and you were to shocked to do anything but sit and desperately hope he was joking, but his lips brushed yours and then he pressed a soft kiss to you lips.

Larry had stood up, pushing Sal out of the way and grabbing your wrist tightly enough to bruise, he dragged you through the crowd of people and kicked people out of the bathroom before pushing you in and locking the door behind himself.

 “Larry? I’m so sorry I was too shocked to move and i-“you were against the wall, Larry’s hands beside your head. He kissed you. It was burning, different to before, he was burning, and you would burn with him. His tongue was in your mouth exploring ever crevice of you, his knee rubbing between your legs

“can i?” despite the alcohol and anger, he cared enough to ask. You nodded

Pushed against the bathroom wall, the heat between your legs growing hotter as Larry licked a line up your neck stopping just before your ear where he softly bit your earlobe, you bucked your hips up to him trying to get any friction against your core. He chuckled in your ear his voice deep and arousing, it sent shivers down your spine as he started sucking and biting at your neck while he trailed one hand down your chest to the waist of your pants. You wrapped your arms around his neck, a hand through his hair softly tugging at strands, he groaned as he trailed his hand down further; you could feel his fingers through the fabric of your pants and desperately tried to get him to touch you more.

“such a needy little thing…” he whispered into your ear before removing your pants, he lifted your leg, holding it just under the underside of your knee. “up”. You happily obliged jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he caught your other leg pressing you harder against the wall to keep you up.

You could feel his length through his jeans and you grinded against it moaning softly as you did. “fuck” his hand slid upward to your inner thigh just below where you need him.

“tell me how much you need me” he growled, and the dark look in his eyes wasn’t like any expression you’d seen him make before. It was hot. So hot. Your arousal was dripping between your legs, you needed him like he was some form of drug and you loved it.

“I need you” you panted “so bad, Larry, please fuck me” you rolled your hips against his to emphasize and just like that something snapped in Larry. Within a couple movement his pants and boxers were at his ankles and his erection ready to enter your dripping sex, pre-cum leaked through the slit and tip was a gorgeous red. You stoked it lightly and Larry’s head tipped back, a moan echoing through the bathroom. His grip on your hips tightened and he positioned himself at your entrance, he rested his head on your shoulder.

“mine, mine, mine, mine, mine” with each word he started thrusting into you, your head hit the wall and you couldn’t hold back the chorus of moans that escaped you, his name fell off your lips like a prayer and he only went harder as you got louder.

His finger circled your clit, his mouth leaving hickeys across your chest. Your tears stained your cheeks at the overstimulation he was giving you. “every time I see you talk to someone, I wanna kill them. You’re mine, mine!” he hit your g-spot with each word, your fingers clawed down his back leaving marks. The knot that had developed in your abdomen was ready to burst and as your eyes rolled back you were no longer capable of words, only senseless babbles.

“I love you, I’d die without you” he moaned, as you came around his dick; And seconds later he was shooting his load inside you. He didn’t slow down though, and as you grasped onto his shoulders panting from your orgasm you realized he would continue fucking you until you couldn’t move.

“Larry” you pressed your forehead to his, your lips brushing softly despite how hard he was slamming himself into you “I love you, I’m not leaving” a tear slipped from his eye landing on your chest. You knew why he was acting this way, he was scared you’d disappear, leave, like his dad and he would try and do everything in his power to make sure that you didn’t.

[myriadimagines]

Chips and Orange Soda

Brooklyn Nine-Nine One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Jake Peralta

Other Characters: Raymond Holt, Rosa Diaz

Warnings: theft

Summary: When a series of bodegas are robbed, Holt assigns Jake and Rosa on the case. You, a cashier, become a suspect, but Jake has a gut feeling that you’re not a suspect at all. In fact, he thinks you’re the key to solving the case. 

Part Two: Chips and Orange Soda (part ii)

Word Count: 2,697

A/N: my submission for @locke-writes​​‘ writing challenge! i know everyone wanted me to post the whole fic at once but then it ended up being 5k+ words i made the executive decision that it was probably best for everyones sanity to split it up into 2 parts. think of it as a commercial break in the episode <3 i’m gonna disclaimer this by saying that i’m not a cop or in law enforcement. idk how this shit works. i tried my best but this isn’t legally accurate. anyway! based on the prompt: “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.” 

reblog/feedback/comments are very much appreciated!!!

“Not late! I’m not late!” Jake announces, rushing into the briefing room with his bag still slung over his shoulder. He ignores the eye rolls from Amy and Terry, and plops down in the seat Charles has saved for him. He leans back, dumping his bag on the floor as he tries to catch his breath, before noticing Holt’s disapproving stare. “I’m not! Look, I’m right on time!”

Jake points over at the clock hanging on the wall, and Holt glances over his shoulder before turning back to Jake. “You’re fifteen minutes late, Peralta. That clock broke down two days ago.”

Jake takes a proper look at the clock, which, sure enough, is frozen at three minutes past two o’clock. 

“Okay, well…” Jake cringes. “I had a flat tire?” 

“As I was saying,” Holt ignores Jake’s excuse, reorganizing the case files on the podium as the squad quickly focuses. Pulling up a few pictures on the television, Holt curtly explains, “Two bodegas were robbed last night, and we suspect it may be the same person, or group or people, who robbed the three bodegas last week. Thankfully, no one was injured, but we need to crack down on this case before it happens again.” 

The squad nods in agreement, and Amy taps her pen against the desk as she takes notes. Gesturing towards Rosa, Holt asks, “Diaz, you were investigating last week’s robberies. Where are you in solving the case?”

“Nowhere, sir.” Rosa begrudgingly admits, folding her arms across her chest as she shakes her head. “Forensics dusted the place for prints but found nothing, and the security footage was crap. Couldn’t pull any good images because it was so old. All I know is that it looks like at least two individuals are involved.” 

Holt slowly nods, pressing his lips together as he deliberates this. Pointing at Jake, he orders, “Conduct some interviews around the block, see if anyone saw anything. Perhaps you’ll have more luck this time. And take Peralta with you, you’ll be able to cover more ground. Everyone, you’re dismissed.” 

Jake looks over his shoulder to exchange a nod with Rosa before everyone gets to their feet. Holt closes up his file, and quickly stops Jake before he can leave the room, “Oh, and Jake?”

Jake pauses in the doorway. “Yes, sir?” 

“While you’re out, you can get some new batteries for the clock.” Holt points back at the defunct clock. Raising an eyebrow, Holt continues, “So next time, you can actually take a look at how late you are.” 

Beside him, Amy can’t help but snort at Jake’s expense, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

—

Jake jogs over to the bodega, a cup of coffee in hand from the nearby food cart. He ducks under the police tape bordering the store, and he gingerly steps around the shattered glass scattered on the pavement. He can already see Rosa inside, taking off her sunglasses and hooking them on the collar of her shirt, and he can see that the forensics team have already marked up the scene. Rosa looks up as Jake approaches, and she informs him, “This one’s different from the others; they actually broke in instead of picking the lock. Otherwise, they took all the cash, and it doesn’t look like anything from the inventory was taken.” 

“Which is kinda weird, considering this place has pretty cool chip flavors and orange soda.” Jake points to a nearby shelf, and Rosa shoots him a look. Shrugging, Jake looks at the rest of the shelves and the fridge as he mumbles to himself, “I’m just saying.” 

“Security footage from this whole week is missing too.” Rosa continues. She groans, shaking her head as she takes another glance around the scene. “I don’t know how we’re going to get anywhere with this.”

The two of them make their way back outside, where a small crowd is now lingering outside the store, curiously trying to peek inside as the cops try to corral everyone. Pointing at them, Rosa suggests, “Maybe we can find a witness.” 

Jake follows her gaze, quickly sweeping over the individuals before his gaze lands on you. Your eyes momentarily meet, but you quickly look away and turn your attention back to the smashed glass. You’re cute, Jake thinks to himself with a grin, all bundled up in a denim jacket that, and when you turn to look at something over your shoulder, he can’t help but notice has a cool design of some planets stitched on the back. Rolling back his shoulders, Jake holds out his cup of coffee, and he says, “Allow me to handle this, Rosa,” 

Rosa rolls her eyes at the annoyingly confident tone Jake quickly adopts, and pointedly refuses to hold Jake’s coffee for him.

“Alright then,” Jake awkwardly takes his coffee back, and he gulps down the rest, fanning his tongue as it burns his mouth. Tossing it aside into a nearby trash can, Jake quickly composes himself, readjusting his jacket before approaching you. He offers you his hand, and you hesitate before shaking it, and Jake introduces, “Hey, I’m Detective Peralta. Cool jacket, by the way.”

“y/n.” you introduce yourself with a small smile, shaking his hand before you pull away to self consciously tug at the sleeves of your jacket. “And thanks. My friend made it for me as a birthday gift.”

“Nice,” Jake grins at you, before gesturing over his shoulder. “You come here often? It’s a pretty awesome bodega.”

“Uh, well, I work here.” you slowly respond, and you can see something in Jake’s expression falter as his cheeks get red. You bite back a smile as you continue, “So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.”

“Cool, cool, cool, cool,” Jake nods, fumbling to come up with a response. His palms suddenly feel sweaty, and he scrambles to think of his next question. 

“I’ll let our owner know, by the way.” you pipe up, and Jake blinks at you. Nervously chuckling, you add, “That you think the bodega is awesome. He’ll appreciate it.” 

“Oh!” Jake laughs, and you can’t help but smile. Gesturing to the store, Jake continues, “I’ve gotta say, your snack selection is the best I’ve ever seen. I mean, you’ve got every flavor of everything in there! Also, any place that carries orange soda is automatically awesome in my book.” 

“Well of course,” you respond with a smile. “It’s the best flavor!” 

“Right?!” Jake perks up, and the both of you dissolve into laughter before Jake looks over his shoulder and notices Rosa glaring at him. Quickly clamming up, Jake attempts to focus himself, and his eyes widen as he remembers the fact that you work here. “Are you the cashier or something?”

“Yep.” you nod, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “I just worked yesterday, too. I can’t believe someone robbed it last night.” 

“What time were you here until?” Jake asks. 

“The shop closes around midnight, and I was the one who locked up.” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to another. Jake can’t help but notice as you momentarily break his gaze, and you glance at the store before back at him. “Usually our owner, Gabriel, closes up, but he’s been sick this past week, so I’ve been helping out.”

“Got it,” Jake nods, mentally taking note of all this information. The both of you look up as Rosa joins in on the conversation, and Jake continues, “And I’m assuming you didn’t see any sign of suspicious activity before you left?”

You shake your head, uneasily glancing over at Rosa as she looks at you. “Sorry, Detective.” 

“No, you’ve actually been super helpful.” Jake reassures you, and he offers you a friendly smile that puts you at ease. You relax, and Jake continues, “It helps us roughly estimate when the crime took place. Do you know anything about your security footage, by the way? This is my partner, Detective Diaz, and she noticed the footage was somehow erased.” 

Something in your expression shifts, and Jake can’t quite read the look on your face. Rosa narrows her eyes at you, and after a pause, you respond, “I think our cameras have been down.” 

Jake and Rosa exchange an uncertain glance, and you can feel your stomach twisting into knots as you know they don’t look convinced. The atmosphere becomes intense, especially as you feel yourself under Rosa’s stern gaze, and Jake quickly tries to lighten the mood as he tells you, “I think that’s it. Thanks for answering our questions, y/n.”

You nod, and Jake’s eyebrows furrow as your gaze lingers on him, your lips moving as if you want to tell him more. But you stop yourself, taking in a deep breath, before responding, “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.” 

You turn on your heel, and Jake watches as you head down the block. He looks over to see Rosa studying you, before she shakes her head. “I don’t like it, Jake. They seemed suspicious to me.”

“They were just nervous.” Jake finds himself defending you. “And probably a little frazzled, too. They were the last one in the shop, if they had stayed any longer, they could’ve been in danger.” 

“Or they could have something to do with the crime.” Rosa counteracts, and Jake lets out a sigh. Leaning towards him, Rosa continues, “I know we don’t have solid evidence, but I just have a feeling something’s up, Jake. Plus, it doesn’t help that you were flirting.” 

Jake gapes at her. “I was not flirting!” 

“Look, we need to solve this before Holt gets on my case about it.” Rosa insists. Jake lets out a sigh, before glancing down the direction you walked, and he can just barely see your figure heading into the subway station. 

“I’ll be right back.” Jake tells her, and before Rosa can stop him, he jogs after you. By the time he’s entered the station, he’s terribly out of breath, and he manages to catch you before you enter through the turnstile. “y/n!”

You look up upon hearing your name and you pause as Jake stops in front of you. He bends over, trying to catch his breath, and you patiently wait for him. Through heavy breaths, Jake manages to puff out, “Yeah, sorry, super unfit. The chips and the orange soda clearly don’t help.” 

Jake tries his best not to cringe at what he feels like is the lamest joke he’s ever made, but to his surprise, you laugh. A genuine laugh, not a cruel, teasing one, but one with a wide smile that makes Jake feel like he’s on top of the world. Tilting your head, you manage to say in between chuckles, “You’re pretty funny, Detective.” 

“Call me Jake.” Jake insists, finally regaining his breath, and you grin at him. “Hey, any chance I could get your number? For professional reasons of course, in case we need to contact you again. Or I could just give you my number if you feel better doing it that way.”

You seem hesitant, but you nod. He fumbles through his pocket, pulling out an old receipt and a pen that barely has enough ink in it, and you scribble out your number before handing it back to him, “I work every day but Tuesdays, too, so you’ll be able to catch me at work if you need me.” 

“Got it.” Jake nods, tucking the receipt into his pocket. “Thanks for your help, y/n.”

The expression that Jake can’t decipher crosses your face again, a look of pensiveness, of hesitation. But you shake it off, quickly plastering on a smile, and you nod, “Have a good day, Jake. And… good luck.” 

—

Jake and Rosa sit in the break room, a laptop open between them as they flip through countless CCTV videos from the blocks nearby the bodega. Rosa becomes increasingly aggressive with the keyboard with each video she clicks through, and Jake impatiently shakes his head. He groans, rubbing his fingers up against his temple as he complains, “This is killing me. If I have to look at one more minute of another grainy video, I’m going to lose it.”

Rosa rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair as she folds her arms across her chest. She kicks Jake’s chair with her boot, and she points out, “This is all we have, Jake.”

Jake sighs, but nods. Rosa had interviewed some people in the neighboring apartments, some of which reported hearing smashed glass around three in the morning, but hadn’t called it in on the assumption it was a clumsy accident from a downstairs neighbor. It at least gave them a time of the crime, but as Rosa unfortunately pointed out, it didn’t give them much else. The CCTV didn’t seem to pick up on anything interesting, no speeding cars, and a brief moment of footage that might’ve captured the suspects only showed their retreating backs. The forensics team had also swept over all the evidence from the bodega, but had yet to find anything incriminating, not even a single fingerprint which could help lead the investigation somewhere. 

“These guys clearly know what they were doing.” Rosa grumbles, jabbing her finger into the screen. “They know to avoid all the camera spots.” 

“I hate smart criminals. Why can’t they all be dumb and just make it easier for us?” Jake whines, and Rosa rolls her eyes. 

“Have you talked to y/n lately?” Rosa asks, and Jake shakes his head, hoping Rosa doesn’t notice the faint blush that lights up his cheeks at the mere mention of your name.

“No, Rosa, who do you think I am? That’s way too forward.” Jake scoffs, before his expression turns serious. It’s been a little over a week since your interaction, and he looks at Rosa before continuing, “Unless you don’t think it’s too forward. Should I text them?”

Rosa resists the urge to punch Jake’s arm, and she deadpans, “Talked to them about the case, Jake, not for a date.” 

“Right.” Jake nods, clearly flustered, and Rosa rolls her eyes again. Wiping his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, Jake corrects himself, “No, I haven’t talked to y/n.”

Rosa leans her elbows forward on the desk. “I think we should call them in again. You know, see if there’s anything we can get out of them. Kind it seems like they’re the only lead we have.”

“You don’t still suspect them, do you?” Jake asks, eyebrows furrowing, and he lets out a sigh as Rosa shrugs. Shaking his head, Jake insists, “I really don’t think it’s them, Rosa.” 

“Jake…” Rosa starts, shooting him a look, and Jake quickly waves his hand, brushing her off as he already knows what’s coming next. 

“Alright, I’ll reach out to them, see if there’s anything more they can tell us.” Jake reluctantly says, and Rosa nods. Pointing back at the computer, Jake asks, “Does this mean I can stop watching these boring videos?”

“Fine.” Rosa grumbles, angling the laptop towards herself as Jake grins. He grabs his jacket hanging off the back of his chair, and he sneaks one last glance at the grainy video before darting out the room. He pauses, his eyes narrowing, and he points at the screen. 

“Wait, what’s that?” Jake points at the corner of the video, where a figure rushes down the street. Rosa squints, and she pauses the video for Jake to get a better look. His eyes widen, and his expression pales slightly, and he asks, “What time was this footage from?”

“Five in the morning.” Rosa replies, checking the timestamp. Looking up at Jake, she asks, “Why? What is it?”

“Nothing.” Jake hurriedly remarks, and Rosa frowns. Before she can demand an answer from Jake, he’s already rushed out of the break room, swiftly exiting the bullpen as he dodges Terry on his way out.

It’s not nothing, but Jake knows he can’t tell Rosa that. Not when the figure in the video was wearing a distinctive denim jacket with planets stitched on the back.

tag list: @myfriendmagislit​​ / @thedamagedcne / @real-fbi​​ / @writinqss​​ / @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ / @natalia-helena-alianova-romanov / @dontjudgemepeepswrites​​ / @hauntedpocdreamer / @locke-writes​​ / @lgbtonystarks​​ / @fangirlsarah16​​ / @kittensanddarkclouds​​ / @randomfandomimagine​​ / @ofthedewthesunlight​​ / @bravelittlesunflower​​

[okaybutlikeimagine]

A Father’s Day Triptych

TW: past/referenced child abuse, emotional hurt/comfort, child neglect

(you can find it on AO3 here ♥)

Father’s day in the Hargrove household was always pulled taut with expectations of kindness and submission hanging over Billy’s head.

They didn’t always used to be that way. When he was a kid, Father’s days felt like a reprieve rather than a burden. Billy and his mom would prepare special things- a nice card that would make him laugh, those new fishing poles he’d been eyeing in the big sporting store a town over, a pretty cake with fresh fruit on top from the grocer down the way. His mother went all out. She’d get Billy all excited for it too. The strenuous relationships were softened for a day where they did everything they could to make him happy.

They really did… everything they could just to make him happy. Sometimes Billy still wonders why it had to take so much.

Around Father’s day, his mother would use all her spending money to make his father smile. It usually worked. And for that day, it was so good. It could hardly get better. Grilling and watching stupid baseball games Billy never cared about but would pretend to be interested in, just for him. Fake smiles almost became real. Hot dogs and hamburgers and watermelon always tasted better on those days when his father would put his arm around Billy amicably- when he would laugh at the card and compliment how Billy’s penmanship was getting better every year.

The year that she left was the worst.

The year that she left Billy stopped getting an allowance. He had no money to soften the edges of his father with fresh cakes and fancy presents. He panicked. He stole a stupid fishing keychain from a store and made a card from his school notebook paper. He presented them with shaking hands to his father who seemed glued to the couch, eyes bloodshot, surrounded by beer cans, baseball game so loud Billy’s ears felt sore.

He got a grunt and a lazy eye roll in response. A slurred groan of “your writing is sloppy”. A quieter admission of regret.

He got resentment. Billy was 9 and he knew it was resentment towards his very existence. He slid away to his room. There was no dinner to eat that night as his father passed out on the couch with the TV still on far too loud.

When Susan and Max came into the picture, Billy miraculously found a reason to be happy for it. Suddenly there was pressure taken off of him. He let Max know it too, as Susan encouraged them to go out and “at least get him a card”. They’d lazily look through all the forcibly funny and generic pieces of paper. Max was nervous that first year.

“It’s whatever.” Billy had grunted, looking through ugly green cards with stupid phrases on them. “She’s gonna bang him tonight, he won’t care about a dumb card.”

“Ew.” Max had whined, covering her ears and pouting. Billy couldn’t find it in himself to care.

It was never fun. Billy felt like he was on a leash all day long, obligated to do everything he could for his father just to keep him civil. Susan made a steak, the kids handed over the card, his father remarked how his penmanship was the mark of someone lazy and sloppy (no matter how hard Billy would try to make it as neat as he possibly could), and the day would end. And he could stop thinking about how this man still had a hand in his life.

…

Father’s day in the Hopper household was always bumbling and awkward.

By the time that first one came around, Billy was just beginning to feel less like a burden to the house and more like an addition. He’d found comfort in the space they all shared. They had a sort of routine set between all of them. There was still no second bed for Billy, so he still felt like he was imposing when Hop slept on the couch, but it was a sort of pull out couch by that point and Hop insisted and Billy decided not to pay it too much mind.

And that first Father’s day was just… awkward. Billy had completely forgotten the date- summer had just started for him and days were rolling by in hot and languid and lazy moments of feeling out every new situation. He had just started getting really serious with Steve. Not just touching for the sake of getting off but really starting to need and want each other in ways that scared him. In ways that made him want to keep things how they were- ways that made him scared to change a thing. It was a new and alien feeling for him.

El had inadvertently learned about Father’s day from Mike when he briefly groaned about dinner plans his family had. Billy found that out from El on their drive to the store to pick something up for Hop. She had to convince Billy it was a thing they should do, because Hopper was their father. He did fatherly things for them. He took them in and gave them a roof and food and asked how their days were and wished them goodnight and good morning, however groggily. He made stupid jokes that made them moan and he danced horribly to the old records he kept on their dusty shelf and he was horrible with laundry and he whistled as he did dishes.

He introduced Billy proudly in the grocery store once. It was the weekend after Billy had a really good basketball game that Hop had decided to attend. Hop bragged about it to some friend of his. Billy flushed red and elbowed him and tried his best to escape.

He thought about it every single day.

Billy and El bought a large cheesy balloon, ingredients to make a nice lasagna dinner, and a green and white cake from the bakery. The balloon was more for El. The lasagna was a little burnt. Hop was too nice to say he’d have preferred pie to cake, but he ate it anyway as they sat around the TV and watched whatever program was on. Billy only remembered as he fell slowly into sleep that night. He jolted awake quickly, remembering a sort of far off conversation months ago where Hop had proclaimed confidently that pie was the superior dessert of anything else- yes, even Eggo's with whipped cream and sprinkles. How he admitted cake was never his favorite.

Billy felt shame overcome him as he remembered, pushing himself out of bed and turning to the sofa with the immediate want to apologize for it. He wasn’t sure what came over him.

But instead of sending pleading apologies into the darkness, he just looked towards the sofa with a heavily beating heart and let his eyes adjust. And he thought about all that man had done for the two of them. Thought about how he took in these two stray kids. Thought about how he knew Hop was getting flack for it, because Billy heard the whispers and the snickers and the sneers about Hop running a dog pound. Thought about how he gave up his probably comfier trailer for the rundown cabin, gave up the main bedroom for the dusty spare bed, gave up the dusty spare bed for the couch, gave up parts of his sanity probably…

Billy didn’t wanna apologize anymore. He just whispered a thanks, even though it was hard to push up through his throat and would fall onto sleeping ears.

The Father’s days after that first one got better. They got Joyce, and along with her 2 boys that had their own rocky past with fathers and celebrations of them. Just four kids who feared and resented father figures. It ended up being better than Billy could imagine. It was never quite as awkward as that first Father’s day, but never quite comfortable either. That being said, it was never a bad day. The bar was low, but that didn’t matter. Billy found appreciation for the general ease all the same.

…

Father’s day in the Hargrove-Harrington-”whatever we’re together now and that’s what’s most important” household is filled with guilt and feelings of imposter syndrome.

They don’t celebrate it the first two or so years after they’ve adopted their first child. He’s just a toddler, he doesn’t quite understand yet what it is. And they… they’re still struggling with what it means to be fathers. They’re confident in their rights but they’re not immune to the judgmental voices, always eyeing them oddly when they’re out together with their boy or asking after the mother when they’re out separately. Always looking a little judgmental or harsh when they have to explain why the kid doesn’t look like them- whoever is with him at the time. Or getting looks of pity when the people clearly begin to assume it’s because they couldn’t get pregnant with whatever wife must be at home.

It’s hard to hear. It makes them question everything. If their boy doesn’t know what he’s missing, then there’s no need to explain.

Billy calls Hopper and feels his heart lurch when Hop and Joyce wish him and Steve a happy father’s day. They do it with joy and certainty. As if it belongs to them, too. Billy hangs up the phone and lays in bed for at least half an hour. Steve can’t get through to him.

It’s an odd feeling. A rough feeling. When they adopt their second child, a girl of 9 years old, they know they’re going to have to confront it. Their son begins school that year too. They find out about the day from their friends and television ads and store windows. The children are timid with them- they were adopted as supposed “problem children” from rough homes and tumultuous pasts. Billy and Steve don’t expect anything of them but they’re still not sure how to explain that. They figure ignoring is easier than explaining. Maybe it’ll make it go away.

It doesn’t work well.

And Billy… Billy’s just struggling being a dad. He couldn’t explain the job if he tried. He helps make lunches, he gives timeouts, he buys and subsequently sneaks himself some silly little snack foods when he’s hungry and busy and doesn’t have time to do more than rip open a pouch. He deals with tantrums over vegetables and he wipes mouths with napkins and he sings lullabies in the wrong key and he reads bedtime stories until he himself dozes off in the tiny bed with a small head on his chest and drool pooling onto his shirt.

He’s trying. He gets frustrated at stores. He gets a little hot headed, a little loud. His heart breaks when they cry. He’s straddling the line between being a pushover and a hard-ass. He lays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, dreading ever becoming like Neil. He asks Steve, in the stillness of the night when the darkness acts as the weight of every horrible outcome imaginable, if he’ll follow Neil’s wretched footsteps.

“You’ll never be like him, Billy.”

“How do you know? What if it’s inside me already.”

“It’s not.”

“Maybe it is… maybe I won’t be able to help it.”

He stresses and he struggles and he wants to rip his hair out.

But that first father’s day comes around with their new daughter and newly knowledgeable son. And the two children blunder around the kitchen while their two dads are asleep. And then they wake the two parents up, both teary eyed and breathing heavy, faces full of apology and sorrow, asking for help to clean up the mess.

And Billy and Steve find the kitchen a single step back from full on disaster. There’s juice all over the counter and dripping onto the floor, the cereal box is all soggy from it, the toaster is smoking, a plate is broken on the ground, the fridge is still open. Their daughter pulls on Billy’s pajama pants and holds out her finger that’s bleeding. He gets out of her that she somehow managed to cut it on the butter knife she was using to cut up some fruit.

Steve gets busy cleaning things up. He asks their son to help do smaller things like close the fridge and grab some towels.

Billy takes his daughter’s small soft hand into his large, rough one and plants a kiss on it. It sends something like pure love surging through his heart. He guides her to the bathroom to put a bandaid on it and asks if she’s okay.

“Mmhm.” She nods and his heart softens. She sniffles. “M’sorry. We wanted… wanted to make breakfast and w-wanted to do something nice.”

She sounds like the weight of the world is on her small shoulders. Billy sees himself at 9 years old, doing his damnedest to get anything close to a damn smile out of his father while he sat unresponsive and unamused on the couch.

His heart yearns. It breaks and it pulls and it screams and it shouts. He pulls her in close and hugs her tight and tries to find the right words. Tries to tell her it’s made his entire year. It’s made him feel validated and happy and worth it, like all of that stress is worth it just to know that these two children got up early as hell on a Sunday morning just to surprise their fathers. Just to surprise the two of them. Just to say they thought of them, wanted to give them something, wanted to make them feel special.

“It was nice.” Is all he can croak out through his froggy throat.

“It’s a mess.” She sobs, but he just grips her arms tighter.

“It was wonderful.” He says and he’s crying too. He can’t get the tears to stop. He’s kneeling on the bathroom ground, the two of them crying to each other.

And Billy swears he’ll never get good at the father thing. He has talks with Hop about it, when he’s feeling vulnerable and Hopper’s able to get it out of him. By this point they’ve adopted another child- an older boy, a teenager. He’s rough and he’s jaded. He listens to loud, angry music. He kind of picks on the other two kids, even though he’d jump in front of a bus for either one of them. Hop asks how he likes it.

“He’s a lot like you were, y’know.” Hop tells Billy, who still doesn’t really see it.

Steve doesn’t have as much of a problem with the boy as Billy does. Billy and him just never seem to see eye to eye.

“It’s because you’re the same people.” Hop insists. Steve agrees. Joyce affirms with pity. “You clash.”

They clash hard. They get into yelling matches. Billy never puts a hand on him, but the arguments aren’t exactly great. Billy cries to Steve at night, fear shaking him down to his core, still able to see and hear himself yelling at that boy who fights tooth and nail back with him.

“You’re not a bad person, Billy.”

“Why do I do that shit?” He asks, knowing full well no one but him could ever really know.

It’s not like it’s anything too vitriolic. It’s not like it’s anything really poisonous.

It’s over the fact that he stays out too late at night, and Billy gets worried. It’s the fact that Billy found cigarettes in his room and he knows the bad effects of cigarettes. It’s the fact that he pushed his little brother one day and made him scrape his knee and he needed to learn some boundaries. It’s the fact that he lied about his grades when Billy felt they gave him no reason to do such a thing.

It’s fatherly things. That’s what Hop assures him as Billy cries on the phone with him.

“It’s things I would have done with you.”

Billy never ever knows what to make of that. What to make of what he’d be like now if Hop was his father from the start. If Hop was there from the beginning. If Neil hadn’t made him a monster in his own image.

Billy does his best to get through to him. Get through to his son now because he’s his son now.

Billy feels like the worst, most undeserving father.

As the kids have gotten older, they learned better ways to celebrate father’s day. They learn breakfast in bed isn’t really what the two of them would prefer- a nice lunch and getting to spend some time with them sounds better. A homemade card always goes on the mantle or the fridge with the rest of the collection. A few hugs because those are like treasured gifts in this house with kids who have a history of boundary and trust issues with parental figures.

The older son catches Billy alone in the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Billy replies awkwardly back. The silence is jarring.

“I uh… uhm.” He’s struggling. Billy wants to do something more than just stand here, but he’s not sure what. He doesn’t want to push anything too far. He wants to be good at this.

The boy puts a small, wrapped box on the counter with an envelope underneath and slides it over.

“Happy Father's day.” He mumbles, suddenly fidgeting.

Billy stares at them.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

There’s another pause, heavy with all the weight and worry in Billy’s heart. He reaches for the box, rips the paper open easily, lifts up the lid.

“It’s uh… it’s just a couple tapes of some of those… bands you like. And talk about. All the time.” The boy snickers, but it catches in his throat. He’s so nervous. “My friend’s family was getting rid of a bunch of their tapes and I know you’ve got your old tape player still so… uh… yeah.”

It’s a mixed bag of absolute classics. Some tapes he used to have, others he’s always wanted. Zeppelin, Ted Nugent, Def Leppard, Billy Idol, AC/DC, Alice Cooper… his heart skips. He lost a lot of his tapes after all the sudden moves he’s had to make. His eyes start to well.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Billy pushes out on a whisper.

“Are they any good?”

“They’re… they’re awesome, kid.”

“There’s a card too y’know.” The boy adds, still shuffling nervously.

Billy slips it out from under the box, pulling his finger underneath the flap to open it.

It’s… it’s ridiculous. It’s one of the cheesiest cards Billy’s ever seen. He thinks back to all the stupid, jokey cards he used to pick out with his mother. The joke inside actually makes him laugh, loud and bright.

There’s words written underneath, quite a few scribbled out and then-

Sorry for all the trouble. I think I just don’t like knowing you’re right sometimes… but thank you for everything.

The words are nearly chicken scratch- wobbly letters clearly written with a nervous and shaky hand. The boy is damn near bouncing now, damn near trying to crawl out of his skin with nerves.

It’s the best, prettiest, most wonderful chicken scratch handwriting Billy has ever seen. He can barely see it now through his misty eyes.

“Your… handwriting is really nice.”

The boy scoffs loudly.

“Uh, thanks?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe it. Still, Billy could swear he sees the boy preen, just a little.

“Thank you.” Billy says, fighting back tears, trying like hell to hold himself together. “I’m sorry, too. I don’t… I don’t have to yell at you so much. At all. I’m sorry about it.”

The boy is just staring at him, eyes a little wide and a little shocked. Billy feels his heart lurch. He just wants to be fucking good at this.

“I’m gonna do better.” Billy asserts through a not-so-wobbly-anymore voice

The boy gives a small smile that grows a bit wider. If Billy isn’t absolutely crazy yet, he’d say that the boy’s eyes are getting a bit misty too.

“So are those tapes actually good?” The boy asks, clearing his throat and trying to seem casual. Billy sees more and more of himself in him.

“Hell yeah… do you think I’d have bad taste?”

His son cackles just a bit, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, alright then. Whatever you say.”

There’s a pause. Billy takes the card and tucks it back into the envelope to save for himself- to put in a special place in his and Steve’s room. He then busies himself with shuffling through his tapes before his son says-

“We can… listen to some of them. If you want.”

Billy’s eyes shine with excitement and appreciation.

Listening to the tapes together is wonderful. They rib each other about what songs are better, what voices do and don’t sound the same, what the lyrics are like. They learn more about each other and maybe Billy is finally forced to admit that they’re a lot more alike than he realized.

And Billy starts to feel that maybe… maybe he can finally define what a father really means to him. And father’s days start to feel a bit more like they belong to him, too.

[himooonlight]

who are you? pt. 1 (reggie x reader)

pairing: reggie x reader word count: 3k warnings: sad stuff i guess? this is mostly fluff though plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him A/N: english is not my first language and this is my first fanfic, so please, be nice ok? hope you like this. oh, and i'm thinking maybe 5 parts? who knows

- I know this is going to sound weird, but do you know any Reginald who likes country music?

The girl in front of me looks at me as if I have just said the biggest nonsense she has ever heard. Her smile fades and she checks around us as if looking for someone who had also heard my question.

Julie is an intriguing girl. She seems very understandable and kind, but I feel like my sanity is in her hands, which makes her figure weigh too much on me. I can't look away from her worried features, feeling bad for making her feel like this. I know she had a terrible year having to deal with her mother's death and all the block to play and sing, but I can't help it.

Not knowing the truth is going to consume me.

- What did you say? - She asks.

Julie and I have never spoken before. I am a year older than her and our school schedules have never crossed, even though I’ve seen her in the halls before. Everyone knows the incredible voice she has, the artistic talent that seems to run through her fingers - it would be impossible not to know about her reputation. What made me talk to her, though, was Reginald.

Reggie.

A boy I thought didn't really exist until three days ago.

- I asked if you know any Reginald who likes country music. - I repeat in a lower tone. - Do you think we can talk?

She doesn't hesitate to agree and soon steps forward to go to the music room. I only know about the existence of that classroom because some of my friends like to go there during lunch hours to sleep a little before afternoon classes. She opens the door, lets me go through, and closes it behind me, making sure we're alone.

We sit in the back of the room, near the windows. The horizontal blinds are open and the weather looks happy. The sun shines brightly and there are no clouds to tell the story of the crazy girl who has been dreaming of someone unreal for months and had fallen in love with a non-existent being.

It's funny how the figurative tranquility makes me uneasy. The day seems peaceful, serene while chaos is established inside of me. The blue, maroon and white paintings on the wall seem to make fun of my nervousness; the delicate yet majestic instruments seem to want me to leave considering that my madness is too much for anyone to bear.

Julie looks at me not knowing that she is my hope and that also makes me anxious. Possibly even more apprehensive than comparing my problems with the calmness of the place around me.

- I'm not sure where to start or if you're going to believe me, but I need you to listen carefully. If it doesn't make sense to you, if you don't know what I'm talking about, please just ignore it, ok?

Julie nods and moves her chair closer to mine. Her eyes look worried and I can see that she is an ordinary person. As much as many people have put her on a pedestal, she looks normal and comprehensive at close range. She doesn't look like someone who would be evil and bitter of her own accord and it's comforting to know that even if she can't help me, maybe she can understand my torments in some way.

I let the air enter my lungs, my shoulders going up and down slightly. She doesn't pressure me to speak even though I can interpret by her fingers tapping on her leg that she wants me to say something soon.

Without thinking too much about word choices, I open my heart to her because some things need to be shared.

Even when it's not easy to start.

- A few months ago I started having dreams with Reggie. He looks just like the guy you sing in that band with, the bass player. A friend of mine showed me a video of you a few days ago and I know it's him, it can only be him. - Without thinking too much, my hands reach for hers, as if begging her to believe me. Julie doesn't back down or make a move to start laughing and that encourages me to continue, with as many details as possible. - Do you know who he is? My friend said they are holograms, but probably it's inspired by some real person, right?

My speech starts to get tangled up and Julie continues with the same expression as when we arrived, just listening to what I have to say. I feel pathetic because I seem to be performing a show for something that in the eyes of others may be irrelevant. I wish I could explain to her that I am usually a very rational person. I like reasonable explanations, the feeling of being in control of where I am going, of having a detailed plan on how to achieve my goals. In general I know that unforeseen events can happen, but the relief that organization and rationality bring me is too comforting and important for me to be able to accept Reggie in my life under normal circumstances.

However, he quickly became someone important to me and it's scary how just the thought of him can make me feel nice and peaceful.

Reggie brought me peace of the kind that you often seek while sleeping or resting. Peace of the kind that we look for when looking at the sky, at flowers, at children playing in a park happily. He, someone I didn't know, offered me happiness by just appearing in my dreams, smiling at my sleeping version. It was something about his adorable smile, his small teeth, his upturned nose and expressive eyebrows. It was something about the way he made me laugh, how he had genuine intentions about everything, how his beautiful eyes lit up when he talked about something he liked.

- I don't know anything about creating holograms, sorry. - Julie answers, smiling weakly and clearing her throat. She looks uncomfortable, so I let go of her hand. - But if I find anything about it, I'll let you know.

- Julie, you really don't know anything about him? He loves pizza, has a very peculiar sense of humor and likes children and animals. He likes it very much. He is not very close to his family, but he regards his two best friends as if they were brothers. He is kind, understanding and real. I guess truthful is a better choice of words, cause I don't know if he really exists.

I know she can see my distress from the way I'm letting the words flow, but I can't help it. Reggie not only brings me peace but also a feeling of belonging that seems to go beyond the moment.

It's not like I'm getting to know him, it's like I'm recognizing him.

- Look, are you sure you are not confusing him with someone else?

Julie herself doesn't seem to believe or agree with her question. I'm being too specific and I know it. I know this because Reggie asked for my help on Thursday night's dream, saying that he didn't know if he could make it. I know this because he told me the name of his band. I know this because he said he didn't recognize me, but that he felt the same way about me, about us.

- Julie, I know about Sunset Curve. I looked them up and I know they died 25 years ago. - I answer, looking at my own feet. I don't want her to think I'm a threat and that I'm going to expose her secret. I just want answers, I just want a chance to understand my connection with Reggie. - I just want to know if you know Reggie. If there is anyone I can ask why he appears in my dreams, why I…

I can't complete it out loud, but mentally I say "fell in love with him".

I know why I fell in love with him, to be honest.

Reggie is physically familiar. More than that, it's like meeting someone special who means a lot to me. He's someone whose beauty comes from his smile. The kind of person who is always trying to see the positive in things. Who never believes that he has actually lost anything or that he is in the wrong place. He's the type to believe that every thing he dropped on the floor and didn't see, every umbrella forgotten somewhere, every delay unintentionally; everything means something. An arrangement so that he could be in the place he is in right now and that this place could not be a mistake. He's the type who doesn't bother with something that broke, with something unexpected, with something he isn't planning because he is convinced that maybe he broke a plate today so he could go to the market and find money on the floor or just feel how pleasant the day is. That maybe he was late because the bus he was going to take was going to break down halfway. He is the type who thinks that regardless of the situation, he is in the right place, where he should be.

Reggie has an engaging aura, as much as I couldn't even explain what exactly it means. He is affectionate, funny and I don't think I could ever create him.

- Why you…? - She insists.

- Why I feel this way about him.

Julie seems to think about what I said and I choose not to press her. I pay attention to the room, on how the sun comes through the window and makes me think of the day I met Reggie.

My first dream with him was at a book club. It was a friendly place that I had never visited before; a two-story white house with a big backyard. The meeting took place outside and the residence looked like it was turned into a cultural center. About five people had books in their hands and were talking excitedly about the story, going on about the metaphors the author had used to explain the parents' suffering when they lost their child. Near the boundaries of the place, three boys who seemed out of place were talking quietly. At their feet, boxes of instruments looked like misunderstood foreigners while snacks and sweets on the table near them were very much welcomed. The blond boy next to Reggie was talking to another boy about something I couldn't hear and Reggie seemed to shine.

It was late afternoon and the sun was passing through the trees in the yard. The white fence he leaned against contrasted with the black clothes he wore, while the darkness of the fabric contradicted with the gentleness of his face. He had caught my attention the minute my eyes met his.

Without saying anything, Reggie came towards me, making me nervous. In the dream, however, I was a man. As much as I was living and seeing everything from my point of view, my body was masculine and taller. My hands were calloused for some reason that I did not know and my clothes were extremely large, almost sloppy.

- Hi. - Reggie said, smiling as if he knew me. His eyes were shining and I was sure mine were too. - Do you have a name or can I call you mine?

We were not too far away from his friends for them not to hear us. Soon they started laughing out loud, embarrassed by the pick up line. I couldn't help but laugh, even though in some part of my brain I knew that maybe if the situation was rationalized, I would find it weird. However, I felt the same way about him. The desire to meet him, to know his preferences, to feel what his hand would be like in mine.

- Maybe I went too far with that one. - He said, giving me no chance to answer. - I think I have the right to remain silent.

- Reggie, you have the right to remain silent. What you lack is capacity. - The blonde said, making the other friend laugh even louder. Some man behind us asked us to speak quietly and right then the sun stopped touching the man in front of me. It seemed that we finally understood that moment; seemed that the universe made sense.

Reginald was speechless, just like me. We looked at each other for a while, admiring each other's details. Because of that exact moment I would know how to point the timid freckles on your nose even with my eyes shut or on the way his eyes seemed to have at least four different shades of blue and green. At that moment I fell in love with his skin, his dimples, how well his hair was combed and how he smelled of jasmine.

- Hey. - I replied to him, holding out my hand. He looked into my eyes, then my lips and then took my hand in his. Time seemed to stop around us. - I guess you do have a name, Reggie, but can I call you mine?

Julie touches my arm, pulling me out of my memories.

- I don't know if I would have answers for you. - She says. - I'm sorry.

Julie gets up and goes to the door. I can't ignore the fact that my throat is dry and my hands are shaking slightly in anticipation of any more response that she wants to give me. Anything, any explanation that might justify how I feel about Reggie.

She suddenly stops and turns to me with wide eyes.

- You can't see, right? - She asks.

I don't know what she's talking about, so I just shake my head.

- Where's Reggie? - She talks again.

When I open my mouth to say that I don't know, he appears near the piano. His eyes are more intense than in my dreams and he does not smell of jasmine, but it's still him.

My Reggie.

I get up quickly and almost trip over the chair, making Julie look at me with even wider eyes. I look from her to him, repeating the process a few times.

He wasn't there a few seconds ago.

He appeared in the middle of nowhere.

Him.

He exists.

- What's going on here? - He asks Julie, but his body is turned towards me. I look him straight in the eye and walk slowly because I'm afraid this is a dream and I want to spend more time looking at him like that. - Julie, why does it look like she sees me?

- I see you, Reggie. - I speak softly, not diverting my attention from him. - You exist.

He opens his mouth a few times, not understanding what is happening and I feel the same thing that I felt in that book club.

Feels like I'm coming home, that I love him, that everything makes sense. I feel that there is too much of him in my heart.

- Can you see me? - He asks, walking slowly towards me. It seems the same distance from my first dream; the same strong feeling of belonging, of finding something that I had already given up looking for. - Do you really see me?

- I see you, I can really see you.

My vision starts to blur and I hear Julie talking in the background, but I can only look at him and ask myself if he knows who I am, if he feels the same. When a tear falls from my eyes, Reggie walks faster, ending our distance and extending his hand to touch my face. When I feel a shy and almost unnoticed contact, I close my eyes and throw myself into his arms, but I can't find his body.

Confused, I open my eyes again.

He's not there.

He disappeared in the middle of nowhere.

Him.

He does not exist.

- It's just a dream, isn't it? Is this my farewell to him? Will I never see him again in my dreams? - I ask Julie. I touch the piano that seemed so close to Reggie before and let my fingers roam the black top of the instrument. I just wish I could feel him the same way. - I could have swore that this is real, but I think I love Reggie so much that he made me like being asleep more than being awake. It is terrible to love him in my dreams and not have him when I wake up in the morning.

- You love me?

I hear his voice behind me and when I turn, he's there.

- Who are you? - I ask, like an idiot. I know who he is, but I need to understand a few things before I completely freak out.

Julie walks over to me and touches my wrist. She seems to be asking me not to scream or pass out. Something in Reggie's eyes is apologizing silently and I'm afraid of his answer.

- I'm Reggie. - He smiles weakly and it hurts me because it's a sad smile. - And I think you're my unfinished business.

[renjunfromthestars]

one last time

Pairing: Haechan + Reader

Genre: Angst, smut? suggestive, fluff, established relationship

Song recs: Lose by Niki,Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County, Sofia by Clario

Warnings: 

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary:

Sometimes, just loving each other isn’t a reason to continue being together.

or

Life consists of moments, and some people are only meant to stay in your life for a moment.

___

September (Now)

When you wake up, it’s breaking dawn. Despite the layers you’re tangled in, it’s still cold in the little one bedroom apartment you share with Haechan downtown. There’s an obscene amount of blankets for the sheer size of the bed; the air condition has been blasting too low for weeks, and neither of you have bothered trying to turn it off. 

The kitchen sink has clogged up a couple days ago, from the buildup of grease or a stray utensil you don’t know—just that the dishes have piled up, and much like the thin balance that holds you and Haechan together, are on the verge of collapsing. 

You question if he still lives with you out of fear of being alone, but you know the answer has always lied in the thin white sheets of the empty two sized bed when you wake up.

Even so, during the rare moments you wake up early enough to see him next to you, there’s an unspoken wall split down the white sheets, and you haven’t really kissed each other in weeks.

As your eyes dart around the room, what should really be considered evidence of your relationship seems old, like artifacts, untouched for centuries. The picture frame that once graced the nightstand, trapped in the crevice between the wall, the 70-millimeter projector Haechan bought you for christmas, back in the box, collecting dust and untouched. 

It’s another day, another changing of the seasons, and you’re still looking for someone to blame, but it's hard to point fingers at someone who isn’t there. 

It’s hard for Haechan to do wrong when he hasn’t been doing anything. So maybe it’s you that make the moments alone feel so long, as you find yourself waiting for just the click of the door opening, a call, a note, a kiss, anything. And maybe one day, if you try hard enough, you’ll find something out of nothing.

But right now, as you hear shuffling and the click of a door, you know he’s only leaving the apartment again. 

September (Before)

It’s bittersweet when the last hints of summer fade into fall, but when you make your way up the stairs and finally drop the boxes on the floor, you don’t mind it as much as you thought you would. 

“It’s so spacious.”

“You don’t have to lie, Channie.”

“No I’m serious.”

“First of all, you’re never serious, and second of all, it’s only because it’s empty and we haven’t unpacked.”

He seems so excited and you can’t blame him, you’re excited too. A place to finally call your own, even if it was the size fit for a Keebler elf. 

As you work on opening each cardboard box, Haechan digs in, taking your things out of the box, organizing them. When you’re finally done, you plop on the couch, resting. When you look over at Haechan he’s focused, with a little drop of sweat traveling down his face as he puts up the curtains. 

Christmas (Before)

“Well, it has character.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

The thing in question, being the little Christmas tree Haechan dragged in despite your insistence that one wasn’t necessary. It’s frail, evidenced by the way the weight of the star bends the tip of the tree, and the firs that branch out from the trunk are discolored. It’s so dry, you think, if you snap the tree in half and start rubbing the sticks together, you could start a fire. You rather not be arrested for arson, so you just sigh. It is kind of endearing, but you’d never admit it. 

“And now we wait for Midnight,” he declares, wrapping his arm around you. “so I can kiss you in celebration.” 

“I think you’re confusing Christmas with New Years.”

 “I figured you’d be difficult,” he shrugs.  “You’re always worried about something,”  he begins, rummaging in his pocket. “Loosen up it’s Christmas, our second one.” When his hand finally leaves his pocket, there’s a small bunch of mistletoe haphazardly attached to a string. He lifts his arm, and it dangles just above your heads. 

“You have to kiss me now.”

“I’d kiss you regardless-” 

“Shut up.” With the swift movement of his head, he presses his lips against you. 

It’s Christmas, and you don’t have a lot of money. It’s Christmas, but you have Haechan, and that’s all that matters. 

…

“Where did you get this, anyways?” 

Haechan scratches the back of his head. “I dunno.”

“Don’t even try lying to me, I’ll get it out of you eventually.”

“It’s not lying if I withhold the truth,” he says stubbornly, and you roll your eyes as you adjust the focus of the screen. 

“No seriously, this is a really nice projector. I don’t think we could’ve afforded something like this if we only ate rice and beans for a month.” 

“I don’t understand why it matters.” he says nonchalantly, chewing on the last of the popcorn

“It matters because rent is due next week, and we’re almost short because of the heating bill.”

“You worry too much.”

“And you worry too little” you interject.

“Not when it’s about you.” he responds, and your face softens. 

He opens his arms, and you crawl into them. You’ve been stressed with work lately, he knows.

You’ve always talked about getting a projector, and how cool it would be (“We could have movie nights!”) but knowing you, you wouldn’t ever drop money on one to buy it for yourself. 

It’s the last of his graduation money well spent, just to make you happy. 

New Years (Before)

You don’t know if it’s the twinkling lights, or the atmosphere (or the champagne) that has you feeling this way, but you’re feeling quite warm and fuzzy.

You trip and nearly kiss the floor on the way to the snack table when Jaemin catches you.

“Woah woah woah there, easy. Looks like someone’s had too much to drink.” he teases, reaching across the table to grab a napkin. Some of the champagne from his flute spilled onto your dress, and Jaemin dabs a napkin apologetically. 

Renjun glances to his side and gives Haechan a little tap, pointing to your hunched figure. Haechan sighs, and makes his way to you.

To the average bystander, it's an innocent display of chivalry as Jaemin links his arm around yours and you lean on him, searching for a place to put you so you won’t cause anymore trouble, but Haechan can’t help but feel a little, pissed off? Peeved, jealous even. 

“My dress,” you grumble, and Jaemin only laughs. “It’s okay, you still look pretty y/n. You’ve always been.

Yes, you do look pretty tonight, Haechan knows, and when you’re back in his arms, he whispers to you that you’re going home. 

...

You’re breathless when Haechan scoops your legs from right under you, disregarding the heel on your left foot you still haven’t taken off.

“Too slow.” he huffs, and you can only wrap your arms around your neck in support when he impatiently shakes your body slightly so that your shoe falls to the floor. 

When he finally makes his way to the bedroom, he plops you front first. The bed feels so comfy, but you snap back into focus when you hear some rustling, then the familiar clank of the metal of a belt hit the floor. 

When you turn around, he wastes no time kissing you, and you almost forget what you wanted to say.

“We didn’t even-” Haechan begins to slide his hand under your dress, interrupting you. “Even see the ball drop” you manage to gasp out. 

“Does it matter?” he hums. Your strapless bra is yanked right out from under you, and any resolve you had to press the topic any further goes with it.   

“It is so bad that I want to spend some quality alone time with you on New Years?”

He’s so worked up it’s almost comical, and he makes it a point to fuck you so that you’ll be feeling it for the next week, but you’re not complaining. It’s quality alone time after all. 

Spring (Before)

If  they say March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb, then your sanity must have left with it. You get a job promotion, and Haechan well, finally finds a job after months of searching. Haechan’s excited, you’re excited, money isn’t as much of an issue anymore, and you couldn’t be happier.

With your newfound responsibilities, you find that it’s hectic at work, so you’re hardly home when he is. When you are, you find yourselves  too tired to do anything but stick a frozen dinner in the microwave, and call it a night. But when you can, you try to set aside a day to eat together, to do something.

It’s difficult at first, but it’s okay, because change is arduous, and it’s okay, because  you have each other.

You try your best to call during lunch breaks, but even then, the calls get shorter, and spending time together becomes an afterthought. The time you do spend together is awkward, with strained silences in between that make you think, was it always like this before? You would almost prefer arguing- then you would at least be talking to each other.

Maybe the riff between you two goes deeper than that, then just work on the surface. It’s riddled with doubt, uncertainty. Doubt, when he says he has extra hours he needs to do at the company, uncertainty when you don’t know when you’ll see him next. You don’t need to lose your mind every time he doesn’t call, because he certainly doesn’t. He doesn’t, so you won’t. You shouldn’t have to win his love, right? because you have it. You’ve always had it.

You don’t know when it occurred to you that his laugh began to mean something more to you--but right now, you’re not so sure when you started evolving into strangers.

Summer (Before)

Spring bleeds into summer, and work lets down a little. Haechan has the day off. You let him know you’ll be coming home a little early, and you do, right before the sun sets, groceries in hand.

When you slip off your shoes and hang your jacket on the coat rack, you make your way to the kitchen. As you make your way to the kitchen, you notice the pans on the stove, and the single empty set aside in the sink.

When you make your way to the bedroom, you find him on his back, scrolling aimlessly through his phone.

“Does this even matter to you, if we eat together?”

“Not really,” he shrugs.

You drop the subject.

September (Now)

Maybe at a time you felt free here, but right now, everything about the apartment is suffocating, the blankets, the air, the silence. You bring out the duffel bag you haven’t used since you’ve moved in, and begin to fill it with your belongings. You need to be somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere but here.

Dusk is transforming into evening when you finally see him. He’s leaning against the door frame, with the light of the sunset illuminating the thin wisps of hair that frame his face. In baggy sweats, and your favorite white tee of his, with the tiny hole on the sleeve from wearing it so much (because you liked it, he once said), in the rose tinted light, he’s the spitting image of the boy you fell in love with, the boy you’ve always loved, for the past year, months, weeks. But when you take the time to look closer, he looks tired, with his eyes sunken and hollow. At the edge of the room is as close as he gets, but he feels miles away

“Where did you go today?”

“I was out with a friend,” you lie. You’re always there when he comes home, and that hasn’t changed. But how else are you going to explain the traces of makeup that linger on your face, and the fact that you’re dressed? You didn’t think he’d care enough notice, let alone point it out. You look up at him, but his gaze remains on the floor, shoe digging in the peeling carpet.

When you see his jaw tense and lips begin to part, you see a glimpse of the man who used to hold on to you like you were the last person on earth; he’s lost the right a long time ago, to be overprotective, to ask about your day, like it would make any difference now. It’s when his gaze travels from the carpet, to the closet, the empty hangers, the sweater in your hands, the bag, he stops; it’s finally sinking in. 

Baggy sweats, in a white t-shirt with his heart on his sleeve. Messy hair, he looks like the man you’ve always known, always loved, last year, last month. Today, and even tomorrow when you’re on that train going far far away. If you get on that train.

Because you’ve been thinking: Is this what love is? They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but all you’ve been feeling these days is empty. Even so, after all this time apart, you still feel the urge to kiss him. 

“Where are you going?” he looks at you, the closet, the bag.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t need to lie to me.”

The answer is in your silence, and wordlessly, he walks past you and lays on the bed. 

“Come here,” he says, and his body forms a crevice on the bed that hasn’t been there for months. 

“I don’t think I should.”

“Please,” his voice breaks, and you feel your plans begin to tear apart at the seams. “Just one last time.”

He knows he can’t stop you from leaving, it’s inevitable, an unspoken end. He can only delay it.

There's a soft crinkle as he wraps his arms around you in your jacket, tightly, almost painfully. 

“The truth is, I- I still, I-”

“I know,” you say softly, interrupting him. “Me too.”

…

When you wake up it’s breaking dawn, and you’re tangled in the arms of the only thing you’ve ever known love to be. He looks so peaceful, with the light of dawn shining on his bare face like drops of morning dew catching the sun. He’s still Haechan and you’re still you, but you know things are different now, and somewhere along the way you forgot to tell each other about it.

You hastily get your bag, leaving no room for second thoughts.

As you head out the door, you see a bag of groceries carelessly dropped on the counter, the bag broken. You see oranges, cereal, a carton of eggs all for two. You see your favorite brand of instant coffee, the one Haechan hates, but always buys for you anyway.

It’s bittersweet as the last hints of summer fade into fall, and you mind it. You mind it a lot. You know there will be a time again when everything will fit right in, but right now, everything is falling apart and you can’t look back. Maybe in a different life you both fight all day, but kiss all night. In another universe, things could still be changing too. You could be leaving this little apartment together, on a train maybe to somewhere bigger. 

September (Before)

“y/n?”

“Yes Hyuck?” you say absentmindedly, fiddling with his silver necklace as you lay on his chest. You’re both tired from unpacking, and you might be just a little late for work. It doesn’t matter, you can spare the subway fare instead of walking. 

“Where do you want to live eventually?”

“I have no idea, but I’m open to anything. I think it would be really cool to live in the city,” you ponder. “but I wouldn’t be able to live there my whole life, you know? What about you?” 

“I kinda wanna live in Utah.”

“Utah is really pretty.” you agree. “Airplane tickets are kinda expensive though, trains are cheaper, but it might take a little longer, and I don’t know if I can be in confined space with you for that long.” you tease.

“Don’t lie you love me,” he grumbles. “It just seems so great,” Haechan continues. “It’s rural and the houses are so big and-” he suddenly pauses. “What if we can’t find jobs in the same location?”

“Hyuck why are you so worried about all this? ” You can only laugh at the little frown he makes in response. “We just moved in, and all of this is so far ahead in the future.”

“I want to make your life amazing,” he announces, “I want the best for us so figured I might as well start planning now.”

You’re ready to tease him for his sudden onset of seriousness, for being so out of character. The Haechan you know doesn’t plan; he scarfs down cereal each day in the morning, and throws on the first item he sees-but when you look up at him, his eyes are filled with sincerity—He’s dead serious. 

As you sit up you kiss his forehead, cupping his face in your hands. Feeling his cheeks contract as you pull away, he purses his lips.

“Kiss me?”

“Okay, just one last time,” you laugh. “I really need to go now though.”

______________________________________________________________

a/n: I don’t know why but I’ve been writing a lot of sad stuff lately, I hope this one makes sense lmao. Let me know what you think, feedback is always appreciated

[themovieblogonline]

FROM Season 3 Episode 2 Review: Boyd’s Breaking Point and Major Twists

Yo, FROMily, grab a snack, and buckle up because FROM just hit us with another wild episode! I’m not saying this show thrives on throwing curveballs, but every time you think you've got it figured out, BAM!—you're left dazed, confused, and wondering what the heck is going on. Today, we’re diving into FROM Season 3 Episode 2, and let me tell you, Boyd (Harold Perrineau) is carrying the weight of this twisted little world on his back. This dude’s in the trenches—and I mean, real trenches. https://youtu.be/0KCxDotZPQ8 This episode kicks off with Boyd and Jade, the odd couple we never knew we needed. Jade's finally manning up and facing the aftermath of Tian-Chen’s death. And who’s still standing there, emotionally wrecked? Boyd. Let’s be real, Harold Perrineau is putting on a masterclass in "emotionally tormented sheriff stuck in a nightmare town." Boyd’s still reeling from having to watch the peoplecreaturemonsters torture Tian-Chen, and it’s taking a toll on his sanity. As much as Boyd wants to protect the town, this episode paints a clear picture—he’s running on empty. The way Perrineau delivers those scenes? It’s like watching a slow-motion car crash, but you can’t look away. You just feel for the guy. Someone hand this man a very stiff drink of Sable bourbon. Meanwhile in ‘WTF is Happening’ Land... While Boyd’s spiraling, Jim and Kenny are over here discovering a magical patch of vegetables—because why not? Honestly, at this point, FROM has no rules. Like, who even knows where this random lake came from, but hey, at least the town’s got some fresh veggies now! Meanwhile, Tabatha is out in the real world living her best “I’ve just escaped a nightmare town” life, trying to get Henry to believe her. But instead of “Hey, let’s talk about this spooky-ass town,” Henry's more concerned about his son’s lunchbox like it's some kind of holy relic. Monsters, Manipulation, and Mayhem Let’s not forget the highlight of the episode—Kenny. My dude is DONE playing it safe. He’s got the vodka, he’s got the rage, and he’s ready to burn those peoplecreaturemonsters into the ground. And honestly? Same, Kenny. Same. This is the type of energy we needed after watching his mom suffer. It’s about time someone went full Die Hard on these monsters. But Kenny isn't the only one on edge. Even Boyd’s done pretending there’s a way out—his big plan? Catch one of those creatures. (Boyd, please tell me you’re joking.) There’s a powerful moment when Boyd shares the final words of Tian-Chen, “Take care of him. He’ll be alone now.” Perrineau’s delivery? It hits hard—like a punch straight to the gut. Damn you, FROM, for making us care about these characters only to tear them away. But it’s that kind of pain that keeps us coming back, episode after episode. What the Heck is Fatima Eating!? Now, we have to talk about Fatima, because, honestly, this girl is dealing with some next-level pregnancy cravings. Rotten crops? Really, Fatima? You can see the demon baby’s influence on her, and it's gross. She’s practically shoveling compost down her throat like it’s some kind of delicacy. Yo, Ellis, get your girl to Kristy STAT because something ain’t right with that baby. Julie Has Time Today Oh, and speaking of people who are over it—Julie. She finally rips into Jim for always playing the absentee dad. Jim, buddy, you’ve been coasting on “I’m doing my best,” but Julie’s here to remind you that your best ain't cutting it. It’s about time she let him have it, and it’s low-key satisfying to watch her lay it all out. No more playing mom, no more pretending things are okay—Julie’s done with the bullshit. Final Thoughts on Episode 2: So, FROM Season 3 Episode 2 gave us some answers, but more importantly, it gave us a deeper look into the fragile state of the town—and Boyd. Harold Perrineau really stole the show with his haunting portrayal of a man at the brink. But as always, this show loves to dangle clues in front of us, only to snatch them away before we can grasp what’s really happening. I’m still trying to piece together what’s going on with these monsters, but trust me, I’ll be back next week—more confused, more invested, and, probably, more traumatized. Read the full article

[agustdef]

Fear of the Future

Pairing: Demon!Jin x Witch!OC

Genre: Angst; Fluff; Supernatural

Word Count: 4.1K

Warning: Mention of violence (Only quick use of the words and no elaboration.) Quick mention of hanging. (Again only the word is said and the moment passes quickly.)

Rating: PG15

Lovely Banner Marker: @vynusx​ 

Beta Reader: @guktro​

Author’s Note: This fic was written for the @heartsforbtsnet​‘s Hearts for Halloween Collab. The angst prompt “Why do you insist on hurting me so much?” and the fluff prompt “You owe me two years’ worth of cuddles.” were used to craft this story. I was excited to write something else about Jin because writing about Jin makes me happy, despite what my masterlist might say.

The entire time at the party YN felt off. Well, off wasn’t the right word since she could pinpoint what it was that bothered her and it elicited only one emotion.

Fear.

When they’d arrived at the costume party that the coven had convinced her to attend, things were fine for several minutes. YN drank and danced amongst the sweaty bodies, while maintaining a sort of barrier so no one was actually touching her despite the fact that they thought they were. All was good, until she took a moment to step out onto the homeowners back patio for a breath of fresh air.

There were many other’s loitering about, but she stood in an empty spot fanning herself and being thankful that she decided not to straighten her hair and allowed her curls to roam free. She would’ve sweated out her hair and even if she could produce a glamour for others not to see it she would’ve known it happened. And then been saddled with fixing it when she got home, something that sounded horrible in that moment.

It was just as she turned to go back in that the feeling hit. Like a freight train she could feel him nearby, lingering somewhere that was much too close for her liking. She tried to tell herself that it was all in her head, but she knew better than to deny her intuition; doing that got her into difficult situations. So, she stood and waited trying to feel out for where he was, but before she could get a lock on it he disappeared.

That brought relief to her as she didn’t want to think about him. YN wouldn’t even think his name or who he was to her, she refused to do so for her own sanity. Or more like she did it so she could bury feelings for longer than she already had. Either way it helped and so she went back into the party and threw herself into the festivities more than before.

Not long into her attempt at forgetting did the feeling of him return. He was closer that time, but she knew it was far enough that he didn’t know where she was and wasn’t attempting to find her. It was the kind of relief she needed, but when his energy never faded she began to fear for the worst. If he wasn’t looking for her that didn’t mean he wouldn’t stumble upon her, she was at a party with stupid humans and it was Halloween so his power was amplified which meant the thing in place stopping him from finding her wasn’t enough.

And to top it off all her worrying meant that the buzz of the alcohol had all but left her, making the party unbearable. Which added to the reasons she’d rounded up the members and left the party to head to her home. She’d promised alcohol and letting them do whatever dumb thing they wanted without her usual nagging, so they didn’t whine the whole way back. Which was funny seeing as she’d made them take the long way to avoid wherever his energy came from.

Once at her home she left them to rampage her liquor cabinet while she changed out of the Mad Hatter get-up she’d donned for the party. By the time she’d changed, cleaned off her makeup and made it back down they were done with a bottle of whiskey and dancing along to some song that was being played from a phone.

However, YN’s focus went to the spell book sitting upon someone’s lap.

“What are you doing?” YN asked.

Em glanced up from the book and gave the sweetest smile and that’s how YN knew she was up to no good.

“Well, we had to cancel the usual ritual because of the whole energy from the moon being off thing but that doesn’t mean we can’t do something with our magic. Just a small summoning spell and then we banish whatever or whoever we summon. It’ll take ten minutes tops.”

The way she spoke was like a kid trying to get their parents to agree to buy them the thing they wanted or go to that one party with their friends that they swore would have adult supervision. And at some point in YN’s life it would’ve worked, but she’d grown out of that years ago and she also knew Em. There was no such thing as a quick spell and then nothing more.

YN opened her mouth to protest, but then remembered what she’d agreed to and shut her mouth. But that didn’t mean she didn’t look around at the others for some sort of backup. They all smiled at her and looked eager to do it, except for Mo. Poor girl was passed out on the couch and YN didn’t really have it in her to wake her up just to stop them.

Rolling her eyes she left them to their own devices and went to the kitchen to grab a snack and something to eat. She needed something to calm her down some more. The thoughts about him finding her lingered, but since his energy signature vanished miles before they reached her house and she had blockers up she’d calmed considerably.

Plus, with the others surely going to bungle a summoning she had other things to worry about. She was just thankful that they didn’t have enough power to summon him or any other high level being that would overpower them.

When she returned to the living room they’d cleared things out of the way and had placed the needed objects in their circle. They’d even gotten Mo up to help them, forcing her to stand holding their hands in the circle.

YN moved right past them and onto her couch that had been pushed on the far wall. There were a few asks to join, but she ignored them and got comfortable with her snacks. They stared at her for a while as if willing her to change her mind, but when a minute passed of nothing they turned back to their task.

While shoving cheese puffs in her mouth, YN watched as the last candle was lit and they all closed their eyes, chanting the spell they needed. From the way they said the words she could tell they were off to a bad start. They were slurred and jumbled at some points, she was sure it wouldn’t work at all; but then the fire from the candles grew and the air in the room shifted.

However, the moment as they finished casting everything went still and then back to normal. Nothing felt or looked different and no residual magical energy presented itself, it was as if they’d done nothing at all.

“What the fuck? We did it right?” Mal shouted, her brows knitted.

The others released similar sentiments and then dropped hands, moving to step away from the circle. They all turned to YN expectantly and before she could even begin to tell them all the things they did wrong, a voice cleared behind them.

Startled, they all turned to look and it took a second for YN to see behind them, but when she did the bowl of cheese puffs clattered to the floor drawing the attention back to her.

He was there. He was in her house. He was in front of her.

There was a smirk of Seokjin’s face as his eyes met hers, but she saw it falter for a moment before he put on an even more infuriating one that was clearly fake. Or at least clear to her.

“Didn’t you teach them to never break a circle even when their spell fails?” Jin asked.

Despite her clear discomfort the anger flared quickly at that as she moved to stand from the couch, her body moving across the room to the circle. She didn’t say a word, simply reached out for a candle and lit it but before she could get further Jin spoke up again.

“Can’t expel what wasn’t summoned to begin with.”

YN’s head snapped up so fast he heard it crack.

“What do you mean?” she demanded.

Jin sighed and slowly walked further into the room, though he stopped just across the circle from her.

“They casted it wrong. They almost summoned some low-level demon who was up the street, but it broke before she could get here. However, it was long enough to expose the energy for me to lock onto. You should know how vulnerable spells like that make your defenses, YN. And how even without your participation your magic is fused in simply by being near them,” he said.

That caused her anger to rise and she opened her mouth to fly off the handle, to unload on him for entering her home when she’d made herself clear. But then she saw the confusion and the fear that wrecked all of them and she knew that wasn’t wise. They didn’t know Jin like she did, all they saw and felt was a demon that radiated energy like none they’d encountered and who could wipe them out in an instant.

“Leave,” she said when she found her voice.

At that Jin laughed, his head even tilted back as he did so. One would think that it was a real one, but she knew better and when he stopped and righted himself in an instant she was proven correct.

“Oh no, darlin’. You’re right where I want you and we’re going to talk. You owe me that don’t you think?” he asked.

“I owe you nothing,” she hissed.

Despite her words a pang hit her, but she pushed it down and allowed her rage to remain firm. Letting it waver wasn’t something she could afford.

Objections didn’t stop Jin though, he merely stood there and then turned to glance at the coven. They all jumped with the focus on them and scrambled a little, though despite the fear YN swore she saw Em check out Jin for several seconds.

Of course, his stupid handsome face had that effect.

“Calm down, he’s not going to do anything to you. He’s… safe,” YN said in an attempt to calm their nerves.

Naturally, that only caused them to look at her incredulously. Why would anyone believe a demon of his power was safe to be around, especially since the first things he said made it seem like he just swooped into the first witch’s den that he could find.

Frustrated, YN turned and gave him a look, one he returned until she found herself close to snapping.

“Fine,” she said.

That brought a smile to his face immediately and then his arm extended towards her. Without a thought she reached out to grip it, her eyes fluttered closed immediately and after a few words she pulled away. Though the voice in her head wanted her hand to linger on his skin.

There were gasps of shock before her eyes reopened, but she knew what it was for. Giving into his want to talk meant he allowed her to bind his powers. It didn’t render him powerless, but it did weaken him a great deal. And it would only last a few hours, which YN didn’t think was enough for what was going to happen, but it helped them out.

Jin cleared his throat again to draw her attention and she looked to see a small, tense smile play on his lips.

“Please lead the way,” he said as he stepped aside with a flourish of the hand.

YN rolled her eyes at that but walked past him towards the stairs nonetheless. Before she went up she turned to stare at the others.

“Sit here and relax. Everything is fine. Just eat, sleep, entertain yourselves. Everything but running your mouth to someone not here or messing with anymore magic. Got it?” she said.

They all nodded, and after she made sure to glare at each of them she continued up the stairs. She stopped when she reached her room and motioned him in before following after and closing the door. With a flick of her hand the room was soundproof, something necessary since she knew they’d attempt to ease drop.

By the time she’d done that Jin sat on her bed and faced her, eyes flickering here and there on occasion as he took in the room. There was a hum that she knew was meant to be approval of her decorating choices and then silence.

For several minutes they stayed like that too. Both staring and neither speaking a single word to the other. The only change being the tension and anger festering as each second ticked by.

“You sure know how to hide,” Jin said after who knows how long.

YN scoffed. “As if you actually looked.”

That was strike one.

Jin made a sound that sounded like a laugh but was much too humorless to be considered one.

“Going to pretend like you didn’t have Taehyung help hide you darlin’? A tracker demon who’s bound to his word helped you and you want to act as if I had it easy? As if I could force him without him being punished for breaking that? Or worse die for breaking it? And here I thought he was your friend.”

His words felt like a dagger to the heart and that made YN pissed, but she also knew he wasn’t wrong. He could’ve forced Taehyung to tell him and knowing Taehyung he probably wanted to tell him, but it put his life on the line if he did. And even if she had only meant to make a dig at Jin, acting like she hadn’t risked her friend’s life wasn’t okay.

“There were other ways,” she mumbled.

“And you don’t think I exhausted all of those? Tried all I could? You keep acting like you didn’t have demons and witches by your side to ensure I didn’t find you. That I didn’t even stumble upon you by chance. Like I should have at that party you went to, but something blocked me from getting five miles within it until you left. Then I was left knowing you’d been there, but not being able to find you.”

It was YN’s turn to laugh at him and she reveled in how upset it made him.

“Let’s not pretend like you’ve been looking for me all this time, Jin. We both know that you were so preoccupied that you didn’t notice at first. And I know you, you don’t exert that much energy for a lost cause. Why would you when you’d gain no-”

Strike two.

Before she could finish the word Jin was up in her face, pressing her against the door. His eyes flickered and she could tell he struggled to hold himself together, which ended the moment she smirked at him, seemingly unphased by his mood.

“You know damn well that’s not how I operate. You keep trying to use actions from when you first met me as excuses. Habits and traits that dissipated or altered over time. And even things you sure as hell didn’t have problems before. You want to sit here and throw everything back at me as if I was the one who somehow drove you away. As if I didn’t put effort into every waking moment of us. As if I wasn’t fucking invested in you often times more than you were in me. As if I’m the one who left! That was you, YN. Not me. You didn’t give me the chance. You didn’t talk to me. You just fucking distanced yourself and vanished, never once looking back or even lowering the protections to ensure that I could find you. This is on you,” he shouted.

Though there was a clear shift in YN, something close to guilt, it didn’t stop her from boiling over. She felt upset and wronged by his words.

“Me? I’m the one who this is on? You want to fucking pretend that there wasn’t a change in you? That there wasn’t something off? That you weren’t hiding something from me. This isn’t on me Seokjin. I don’t care what grand delusions you created for yourself while I was gone, but surely you’re not so fucking far gone that you don’t remember what happened before hand. How you fucked up and failed to fix it. How I had to hear about your shitty actions and waning attention from accidental eavesdropping and other demons who loved to let me know how useless I was. How I was on my way out. As if I didn’t fucking know that. As if I hadn’t fucking caught you before that.

“You didn’t care, Seokjin. And you cannot and will not stand here and lie to my face because things didn’t go the way you wanted. Because life didn’t go the way you wanted to. Because you didn’t get to live in a world where you got me and anyone fucking else that you wanted.”

By the time she finished her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her heartbeat erratically and her body vibrated from how worked up she’d gotten.

It was strike three.

Jin’s expression fell, his anger still clear but on the back burner. He looked hurt - well distraught was a better word. His shoulders sagged and she watched as his eyes glistened, tears highlighting the pain.

“Why do you insist on hurting me so much?” he said.

The words in argument she’d prepared disappeared and for the first time since she sensed him the anger couldn’t keep everything else at bay. YN’s sadness, guilt, frustration, and longing all came up at once. She didn’t know what to say or do, but Jin wasn’t done.

“You know it’s not true,” a voice break made him pause for a moment before he continued. “You know it. You know that nothing they say is true because they’ve tried many times to play that game. To get inside your head and make you think I’ve done things I haven’t. With them, with people you know, with people you don’t. They’ve tried it all. They’ve even tried to do it to me and we learned how to deal with that. Learned they were a bunch of whiny brats who couldn’t get what they wanted so they would fuck with what we had. And you knew damn well that they would turn to shapeshifting to do it, so don’t try that shit with me, YN.

“You know what else you knew? You knew I wasn’t pulling away because I wanted to. We both did it out of stress and what felt like a lack of time. And when it ended for you, you knew why it was still like that for me. Let’s not pretend I didn’t fucking notice the change in that drawer. The box was nowhere near where I left it. So why don’t you admit the real issue here? Admit that you were fucking scared. That you’re still scared. That you have lived your life not thinking about how long it will be and the idea of me wanting to spend eternity with you, the idea of me proposing makes you think about the long life. Even if it’s for a second it makes you realize the true power you hold. Your fate for the rest of who knows how long. And instead of talking to me about it, someone who was days from proposing to you, you ran. Like you’ve done for who knows how long before I even came onto the scene. Admit how you run at the first sign of something permanent!”

When the tears started YN or Jin didn’t know, but the moment they realized both scrambled to rid their faces of them. Though Jin’s hands stopped a moment after the first wipe to help YN wipe hers, which only made the silent crying turn into a full-on sob.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could utter, so she repeated it several times.

Jin didn’t say anything at all, just took a deep breath and leaned down to press his forehead to her. They stayed like that for a while, silence filling the space. Silence, sadness, and relief.

Several minutes later, YN pulled it together and was able to see and breathe normally. She pushed Jin away a bit, which displeased him but whatever he planned to say died on his lips the moment she began talking.

“You’re right. You know you’re right. I know you’re right. Taehyung sure as fuck knew you were right when I demanded that he make it nearly impossible to track me. The only reason he did it is because he owed me and I finally knew what he could do in return. I knew I shouldn’t have as I asked and after he’d done it, but I was sure that it was the right choice. It was the right choice for a while or at least that’s what I deluded myself into thinking until I could get to a place where I didn’t linger on it too long.”

There was a pause and a deep sigh from her, she wanted to stop talking but she needed to keep going and with a squeeze of her hand from Jin she found it in herself to continue.

“I’ve watched my people be slaughtered for who knows how long. Complacency and permanent things ended in them burned, hung, killed in the most horrible ways or stripped of who they were so another could gain their power. No matter how well things go it’s nearly impossible to shake the idea of that happening. Especially when you run with demons. An extra target is on my back for even having made an acquaintance with one from my own people. Things intensify when you fall in love with one. And that all just came to a head.

“I was tired of everyone trying to do something to tear us apart and I did need a break. I was going to talk to you about it, but then I saw the ring and heard a conversation I shouldn’t and all my fear and anger festered. Well fear fueled anger. It wasn’t hard to latch onto the idea of you failing to remember how I felt about permanent things, even if I really wanted it. And for fuck’s sake I wanted it.”

Her voice broke at the last part and she started to tear up again, but Jin put a stop to that with a quickness.

“No more tears, darlin’. You’re killing me with all the crying. You want me to start crying, because I will make myself ugly if you start that shit again,” he said.

That made her laugh, but it was truly short lived.

“I really am sorry. I regret it. I’ve regretted it the entire time,” she whispered.

Jin cupped her face and tilted her head so she would look up at him. He made sure that he smiled wide and that she could see how genuine and filled with love it was.

“I know. And I regret not seeing the signs. But we can move past it right? Of course, there is more to discuss and bonds to rebuild, but it’s something we can both do with time. Just not right now. Right now, I just want to keep you in my arms.”

YN smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Is that so?”

Jin nodded. “You owe me two years’ worth of cuddles.”

“Don't you mean twenty years of cuddles?”

“Damnit, I was trying to let you off the hook, but you know what, forget it. You’re never leaving your bed.”

Just as YN planned to challenge that there was a timid knock on her door and then some spoke.

“YN is everything okay in there? You’ve been gone for a while. He may be more powerful than me but I will hurt him if need be,” Mo said.

Laughter escaped both of them at that and they collected themselves long enough for YN to lower the soundproof barrier and reassure her. Once she heard her walk away her attention went back to Jin, who still smiled down at her like she was the best thing he’d ever seen.

“How about I reassure and explain things to them and then you lock me away in your tower and ravage me?”

Both of Jin’s hands slid down and squeezed her ass before he let go and stepped away.

“Fine.”

With a slap to his arm YN turned on her heel and exited her room. She wore a smile than any other in the twenty years they’d been apart and it made her so happy. He made her so happy.

[sickficsforthesoul]

Sick kenma kozume who is very pukey ♡○♡

Three Cats and All That

Sick Kenma with caretakers Yaku and Kuroo.

Word count: 1310 words

Kenma was sick, both physically and from boredom. Kenma had been feeling sick all day, but he still came to afternoon practice because Kuroo would have thrown a fit if he didn’t. Kenma had just finished warm-ups with the team before Coach Nekomata arrived. The elderly coach took one look at Kenma’s flushed cheeks and ashen complexion and promptly declared that Kenma would be taken to the infirmary as soon as possible.

Kenma gathered his things gradually, aggressive nausea slowing his actions considerably. Once everything was packed away, Kenma dragged himself to his feet. Nausea flared, and Kenma fell onto his knees with a wretch. Another heave followed, and then Kenma was spilling his guts on the gym floor. Cries of shock filled the air, but Kenma was far too miserable to pay them any mind.

Kenma heaved, and heaved, and heaved again. By the time Kenma’s nausea abated enough for him to catch his breath, a large, putrid puddle had formed underneath him. Kenma leaned back on his heels with a pained groan. He felt absolutely terrible. Kenma’s immune system wasn’t the best, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so sick. Someone’s hand came to rest on Kenma’s shoulder, so Kenma looked back blearily.

Yaku was kneeling on the floor next to Kenma. “Do you think you’re done for now?” Yaku asked gently, his hand rubbing small, soothing circles on Kenma’s shoulder.

Kenma nodded with a faint hiccup. His stomach was behaving at the moment, but he knew it wouldn’t last too long.

“That’s good,” Yaku’s smile was wide but concerned. “Let’s go to the infirmary. You can rest there until your parents come to get you.”

Kenma nodded in agreement, and Yaku reached up to pat Kenma’s head softly. “Hey Kuroo,” Yaku called across the gym, “come help me out. Kenma’s going to the infirmary.”

“Sure, Yakkun,” Kuroo replied as he jogged over to the pair.

Kuroo and Yaku cautiously pulled Kenma to his feet, and they began their journey. Kuroo supported the bulk of Kenma’s weight while Yaku kept Kenma steady and upright. Together, the third years successfully got Kenma to the infirmary and settled in a bed, intentionally propping him up in case of more vomiting. The nurse had already left, so Yaku busied himself adjusting Kenma’s covers while Kuroo ducked into the hall to call Kenma’s parents.

“Sorry you’re feeling so awful, Kenma,” Yaku said as he finished tucking Kenma under the blankets.

“It’s not your fault,” Kenma sighed as his stomach gurgled ominously. “I was feeling sick this morning. I shouldn’t have come to school.”

“Well, we can’t change that now,” Yaku shrugged, ruffling Kenma’s dyed locks gently.

“I guess not,” Kenma agreed. “I wish I could time skip to tomorrow already.”

“Time skip?” Yaku laughed at Kenma’s word choice. “Like the video game mechanic?”

“Yeah,” Kenma said, “it’d be super useful in real life, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” Yaku conceded, “but it’d cause a lot of problems if everyone could time skip, right?”

“I guess so,” Kenma conceded, “but it’d still be cool.”

Yaku stifled a laugh and patted Kenma’s head. Kenma leaned into the contact briefly before settling back onto the pillow behind him. Kenma laughed a little too, but the laughing soon turned to hiccups, which quickly dissolved into gags. Yaku jumped to attention, shooting across the room to grab a small trash can from beside the nurse’s desk. He rushed back to Kenma, depositing the trash can in Kenma’s lap just in time to catch the first splash of vomit.

Kenma curled around the trash can, hugging it like a lifeline as he threw up a nasty slurry of half-digested food and bile. Tears gathered in Kenma’s eyes from the exhaustion and discomfort of yet another vomiting fit. Yaku stood beside Kenma, wrapping his arms loosely around the sick boy. When the vomiting finally slowed down, Yaku nudged Kenma gently to one side of the bed, hoisting himself up and onto the now-empty side.

Kenma’s vomiting continued for another minute before eventually coming to a stop. Yaku rubbed Kenma’s back sympathetically and tucked Kenma’s head into his chest. Kenma smiled slightly and snuggled deeper into Yaku’s embrace. It was an unusual display of affection from the normally apathetic boy, but Yaku supposed that anyone would want a hug after throwing up so much.

By the time Kuroo returned to check on the other two, Kenma was fast asleep in Yaku’s arms, and the libero was dozing lightly too. Kuroo chuckled and walked over to the bed. He took the filled trash can from Kenma’s arms, wincing slightly at the horrible appearance and smell of the can’s content. Kuroo dropped the trash can into the sink to be dealt with later. Then he returned to the bed and carefully shook Yaku’s arm.

“Wake up, Yakkun,” Kuroo whispered, mindful that Kenma was a surprisingly light sleeper.

“Mmm,” Yaku yawned softly while he opened his eyes slowly. “Kuroo? What is it?”

“Kenma’s parents are almost here. Can you help me get him to the front doors?” Kuroo asked softly.

“Yeah,” Yaku whispered. “Can you carry him? I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Sure,” Kuroo agreed, “help me get him on my back.”

Yaku delicately shifted Kenma until he was sitting up while Kuroo turned around and squatted low so his shoulders were the correct height for Yaku to help. Yaku slid Kenma’s arms over Kuroo’s shoulders and pushed Kenma’s body against Kuroo’s. Kuroo grabbed the undersides of Kenma’s knees and cautiously stood. When Kenma failed to wake up or fall off, he nodded to Yaku, and the third years left the infirmary with Kenma in tow.

When they exited the front doors, they found Kenma’s parents sitting in their car. Yaku ran ahead to open a backseat car door. Then he helped Kuroo gently slide Kenma off his back and into the car. Yaku buckled Kenma’s seatbelt and placed an empty trash bag that he’d snagged from the infirmary onto Kenma’s lap. Kuroo closed the car door and pulled Yaku back from the car.

“Thanks for your help, boys,” Kenma’s father whispered through the open window of the passenger’s side.

“It was nothing, sir,” Yaku replied respectfully. “We’re just doing our jobs as upperclassmen.”

“Indeed you are,” Kenma’s father smiled. “We’ll take him home now. Be safe going home, boys.”

“We will, sir,” Kuroo nodded as the car drove away from the school.

Kuroo and Yaku stand in silence for a moment, watching Kenma’s family drive away.

“What now, Yakkun? Back to practice?” Kuroo tilted his head down to look at the short libero.

“Obviously,” Yaku said, “We’ll never make it to National if we don’t practice.”

Kuroo smirked and ruffled Yaku’s hair. “Race you back, Yakkun?”

Yaku smacked away Kuroo’s hand, but his cheeks still flushed a little. “Sure, but the winner chooses today’s team snack.”

And then Yaku took off without warning, darting down the halls and racing to the gym. Kuroo stared for a moment, eyes and mouth wide with shock before he recovered and ran after Yaku. “Yakkun, you cheater! Get back here!”

(Kenma recovered quickly, returning to school two days later. To no one’s surprise, both Kuroo and Yaku collapsed vomiting in the middle of practice a day after that, and Nekomata mourned his sanity and a week of lost practice as the virus slowly but surely infected all of his team. From then on, Nekomata instituted a rule banning his players from attending school and practice if they had any sort of illness. The punishment set for breaking the rule was no practice for two days followed by a day of absolute hell, focusing on suicides, flying falls, and a myriad of other brutal exercises and drills. Needless to say, the number of sick players attending practice dropped dramatically by the next day.)

[eatsleepandsupernatural]

Soy Sauce and Sam

Request: Hi! I'm wondering if you could write a ABO one shot or whatever with one of the brothers with a male reader? Could it also be fluff, please? It could be anything you want

Pairings: MaleOmega!Reader x Alpha!Sam Winchester

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1820

A/N: Hey Guys! First of two request filled! Again so sorry for the absence! Hope you like this one, I loved writing it! Another ABO request and Saved Chapter coming soon. 

Masterlist

   You struggle to stay calm as you glance at the mess around you. Your sister always made it look easy and now you wanted to throw it all into the bin and give up. You have soy sauce in your hair, vegetables litter the floor and the chicken you are trying to cut up looks like it has been massacred by a hammer. All you want to do is to make dinner for your Alpha, but you can’t cook to save your life. He and Dean are due to be home from their hunt any minute now and the first thing they’ll do is come and check on you. You don’t know how you are going to explain this mess. You dip your finger in the home-made teriyaki sauce and bring it up to your mouth. You don’t want to, but you need to know if you’re going to have to tip it out and start over or not. You knock the bowl off the bench with a groan, too much soy sauce. This is an absolute disaster. 

   ‘Dude, what have you done to my kitchen?’ You freeze at the sound of Dean’s voice and grimace at the mess surrounding you. 

   ‘The bin exploded.’ You say, speaking before thinking is one of your many bad habits that always seems to get you in more trouble than necessary. 

   Dean raises his eyebrows, arms crossed. ‘You know you’re going to have to clean all this up. And if I find out that you ask Cas to help again, I’ll tell Sam about your midnight snacks.’

   You understand that Dean felt very strongly about the kitchen, but you aren’t a child. You are about to mouth off when Sam appears in the doorway, immediately stopping you in your tracks. 

   ‘What the hell?’ His wide eyes take in the mess before landing on you. 

   ‘He trashed my kitchen.’ Dean interjects, waving his arms around aggressively. 

   ‘I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation, (Y/N)?’ Sam replies, always the peacemaker.

   ‘I can’t cook.’ You supply, leaning against the bench for support. You are still disappointed at your lack of culinary talents, but you’re calmer now that Sam has arrived. ‘And Dean, I may be an Omega, but I’m not a kid. I know how to clean up after myself.’ 

   Dean’s eyes flash briefly with an uncontrolled instinct but he shakes it off and offers you an apologetic smile. You roll your eyes in response and give him the finger. 

   ‘If you can’t cook, why did you try?’ Sam questions, obviously still confused.

   ‘I wanted to cook you dinner, didn’t really work out.’ You say gesturing to the mush of raw chicken. 

   ‘No, I suppose not.’ He replies with pursed lips. You knew that expression, he is trying not to laugh. You glance over at Dean, to see that he isn’t trying to hide his amusement at all. 

   ‘Whatever, I didn’t have high hopes anyway. It probably would have tasted like shit.’ You try to hide your disappointment behind a nonchalant persona.

   ‘Alright, well I’m going to leave you two lovebirds here.’ Dean says turning to leave the kitchen. ‘Don’t burn the kitchen down.’ He speaks before disappearing completely.

   ‘Asshole.’ You mutter, as you turn your back on Sam, crouching down to clean up the vegetables that had ended up on the ground. 

   ‘What were you trying to make?’ Sam asks, poking at the chicken, ‘this looks almost salvageable’ 

   You scoff, throwing a handful of vegetables in the bin, ‘Teriyaki Chicken.’ 

   ‘Ah, that explains the soy sauce.’ Sam chuckles quietly, grabbing some paper towel to wipe it up. ‘Do you want to restart, try again?’ 

   You meet his eye for the first time since Dean left the room, ‘No, Not really. I’m too pissed off.’ 

   ‘Do you want a hug?’ 

   You pause halfway to the bin and turn around to face him, ‘Does it look like I want a hug?’ 

   Sam looks you over for a minute, smiling calmly. ‘It looks like you want to punch something, but I thought a hug might be even better.’ Discarding the soaked paper towels, he holds his arms up, an open invitation for you to seek comfort in his warmth. You can’t say no. 

   You dump the veggies you’re holding into the bin and walk back over to him, leaning into his embrace. You don’t hesitate to nuzzle further into his chest, scenting him, the smell of leather, books and hair product surrounds you in a calming blanket. Although you would never admit, you love the way Sam is able to calm you so easily. Not even your parents were able to do that. 

   ‘Better?’ 

   ‘Of course. What are we going to do now? I ruined dinner.’ You tighten your grip on Sam, still needing the calm scent he was releasing. 

   ‘Well, if you let go of me, maybe I could help you? We could probably use some of the chicken, I’ll sort through it and cut some more, if you cut up some fresh vegetables.’

   ‘I don’t want to let go, or cut vegetables.’ You mutter into his chest.

   ‘Don’t you want dinner?’ 

   ‘Not if it means having to let go.’ 

   Now that you had him, you didn’t want to lose him. The day has been long and stressful, you hate when he leaves to go on hunts and cooking is now your worst enemy. 

   Sam understands this and finishes clearing up the rest of your mess with you attached to his arm. He leads you through the library, where Dean is resting with his feet up on the table and a beer in hand. 

   ‘Kitchen’s clean, but raincheck on dinner.’ Sam says, gesturing to you next to him. 

   Dean raises his eyebrows at the sight. It’s not often that you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him and after a sharp look from Sam, he has to bite back whatever rude comment he was about to say. 

   ‘I can see that.’ He mumbles. 

   ‘If you wouldn’t mind getting dinner, please. I don’t mind where it’s from, just one of the usual places. (Y/N) and I will make dinner tomorrow.’ 

   Dean eyes Sam, before nodding and standing up. ‘I’ll be back in half an hour.’ 

   Sam turns around, making his way back to the room you share, your arms still wrapped tightly around his waist. Once in his room, he pulls you off and gently sits you down on the bed, passing you one of his jackets. ‘Wear this, I’ll be back in a second.’ 

   Sam is gone before you can protest and you press your face into his jacket. 

   ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ You mutter to yourself. You know that sometimes when Sam gets back from a hunt you get clingy, but this is a whole new level. 

   Sam comes back in with a pile of clean clothes which he dumps onto the bed. ‘Alright shoes off.’

   ‘What are we doing?’ You did what he told you to, but not without questioning his sanity.

   ‘We’re snuggling.’ He replies, hopping up on the bed, creating a nest with the pile of clothes he brought in.

   You frown at him, still confused. ‘Why?’ 

   Sam pauses what he is doing to look up at you, ‘I think, because of what happened in your past, and our still fairly new relationship, you're starting to experience feelings of anxiety when we are separated. I’m guessing you've been ignoring them, channelling your nerves into something productive like cooking, which is good. But every time I’ve come back from a hunt, you’ve been slowly getting more and more attached. It’s okay, but it’s something we’re going to have to work on.’ 

   You are so embarrassed you almost leave the room, but the look Sam gives you is one of complete adoration and love. So you slide into his embrace, and find yourself completely surrounded by him and his scent. 

   ‘How long have you known?’ You ask, snuggling into his chest. 

   ‘I suspected it a while ago, I believe today confirms it though, don’t you?’ He pulls me closer to him and runs his hand up and down my arm. 

   ‘I’m sorry.’ 

   ‘(Y/N), you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, we all have our moments. Anyway, do you just want to snuggle or do you want to put on a show?’ 

   You remove your face from your Alpha’s warm chest to meet his caring gaze. ‘Can we just stay like this? I missed you.’ 

   ‘Of course. So, aside from making a mess in the kitchen, what else did you get up to the last few days?’ 

   You are ashamed to say that you didn’t do anything besides your failed attempt at dinner. You spent most of the time watching TV in bed. And when you weren’t doing that you were trying to get into the locker where they keep the guns so you could practice shooting. You wanted to go on hunts, but Sam wouldn’t let you. Stupid Alpha. 

   ‘Not much, just TV’, you tell him. 

   Sam chuckles, ‘So you didn’t try to break into the gun locker?’ 

   ‘Nooo…’ 

   ‘Nice try, you left the light on in the armoury, and a lock pick next to the locker. You couldn’t have tried to be more obvious. What distracted you?’ Sam’s voice had hardened a little and you could feel a scolding coming. 

   ‘I noticed what time it was, I had to start cooking.’ 

   Sam laughs quietly before bringing up the topic you knew he would. ‘(Y/N), I don’t want you hunting.’ 

   You sat up, frustration building in your stomach. ‘Sam, I’m not some weak, helpless little female Omega. I may be an Omega, but I’m not completely breakable. Sure I’m smaller than men who are Beta’s or Alpha’s but why does that automatically put me on house arrest?’

   Sam sighs, he gave you a look that told you he knew this was coming. ‘I know you aren’t weak and I know you hate it when I say it's for your protection, but it really is. There are no Omega’s in the FBI or any other law enforcement agency. That means we’d be leaving you alone in a motel, and that’s a big no. And if you’re there fighting alongside me, I’m going to be more worried about you, than myself or the person we are trying to save.’ 

   He brought his hands up to cup your face and gently kissed your forehead. ‘I’m sorry (Y/N), but I just can’t have you hunting.’ 

   ‘Sammy, (Y/N)! Food!’ 

You sigh loudly, and move to push Sam away but he grabs your wrist. ‘I understand you’re upset. I’m sorry, I really am. But you are safer here, it’s as simple as that. You just have to trust that I’ll come back.’ He gives you a small smile, getting up and moving to the door. 

   ‘By the way, you still have soy sauce in your hair.’ 

[much-obliged-timothy]

Dad Tim & Uncle Rhys Part 10

I can’t believe this self-indulgent little writing has hit 10 parts already! This particular entry...didn’t go to plan at all, but that’s writing for ya. Thanks for following this little project into the double digits!

Tim was getting overwhelmed, and Rhys knew it.

He tried to ease Tim’s workload subtly, splitting up some of his assignments where he could to give him a break. He took on more meetings to cut Tim a break. He extended whatever deadlines he could.

But Tim was still struggling, and Rhys suspected it had to do with Phoenix. The boy had been absolutely exhausted lately, often clinging to Tim and falling asleep on him. Tim tried to casually dismiss it as him having a fit of nightmares, something that apparently happened from time to time. 

Even as Phoenix seemed to improve, though, Tim didn’t. He just looked increasingly exhausted and stressed, his patience thin most days. Rhys could see him making a visible effort to control his temper during meetings. 

The office door opened and Rhys looked up as Tim came in, Phoenix trailing behind him. Tim had dark bags under his eyes, but he nodded a greeting to Rhys as he sat down across the desk from him.

Phoenix was focused on a bag of snacks, struggling to tear the package open. He didn’t ask for help, so Rhys left him to it.

“Here,” Tim said, passing Rhys a report of his latest meeting. “Negotiations went terribly, but we secured the key areas of the deal. We scheduled a follow-up meeting for next week.” He rubbed his temples. “Shit, it went terribly. Every time I think I’ve met the douchiest businessman, another one comes along to claim the title. Fuckin’ headaches, all of them.”

“Dad, the ‘f’ word,” Phoenix said without looking up.

“Your ears didn’t burn up and fall off in horror. It’s fine,” Tim said. “Seriously, though, that guy was a dick. And the woman with him? I thought she might slit my throat with her damn heels when I wouldn’t budge on the price.”

Rhys flipped through the report, scanning it for the key points. “Good work, Timothy. Thank you. Why not take a break? Head home early. This was a big win.”

“Can’t,” Tim said. “Got a smaller meeting with the development team in an hour.”

Shit, Rhys forgot about that. “I can go.”

“My life isn’t that simple. You don’t have the information from the last two meetings with them. Gotta be me,” Tim said. He looked ready to collapse at the thought of more arguing and stubborn businessmen. 

“Well, take a break until then,” Rhys suggested. “Go take Phoenix out for lunch somewhere. If you’re running a bit late getting back, I’ll cover for you.” 

“That’s alright. I can use the time to prep for the meeting so it doesn’t drag as much,” Tim said. “Maybe I can-”

“Dad!” Phoenix tugged at Tim’s arm, holding up his snack bag. “Can’t get it. Help.”

“I was talking, Phoenix!” Tim snapped. “You don’t interrupt people when they’re talking. Your stupid snacks aren’t important enough to forget your damn manners.”

Phoenix shrank back. At the sight of his surprised fear, Tim’s anger faded.

“Oh- no, hey, no. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry,” Tim said. “Here, let me see. Let me help you get them open. I’m sorry I yelled. Guess we both have to work on our manners, huh, pal? You shouldn’t interrupt people, and I shouldn’t yell. Start over?”

Phoenix shook his head, backing away. “I’m not hungry no more. Sorry.”

He retreated to the corner, bear clutched to his chest. Tim put his face in his hands for a moment, taking a deep breath before lifting it.

He got up and slowly approached Phoenix, kneeling down in front of him. “Hey, I really am sorry I yelled at you. That wasn’t fair. Can I help you open your snack?”

“Don’t want it,” Phoenix mumbled.

“Well...I’ll go get your lunch. How about that? You’ve got to be hungry,” Tim said, getting up. “I’ll be right back.” He passed Rhys’ desk, pausing to look at Rhys and mutter, “I’m so shit at being a dad. I don’t even think I remembered to bring his lunch. Buy me time while I run to the cafeteria.”

He hurried out of the office. Phoenix waited a minute before getting up and sheepishly going up to Rhys, holding up his snack bag.

“Can you help me, boss guy?” he said. “Um, please.”

“Tim offered to help you,” Rhys said, but took the bag. He tugged at it, but the damn thing wouldn’t rip, so he saved his dignity by cutting it open with scissors and passing it back to the kid.

“Thanks,” he said. “Dad’s been mean lately. He yells a lot. And then he says sorry, but he always yells again.” His shoulders hunched, making him look even smaller than usual. “I don’t like when dad yells at me.” 

“He’s been stressed lately,” Rhys said. “I don’t think he means to yell. He yells at people around work, too. He’s not actually mad at you.”

“Mom says he can’t help it,” Phoenix said. “She said he’s got that asshole’s DNA so sometimes he can’t control his temper. But I still don’t like when he yells at me.”

The door opened and Phoenix froze, but eased up a little as Lorelei came in. She brightened at the sight of him.

“Phoenix!” she said. Then she frowned. “What’s got you looking so sad, little guy?”

“Dad yelled at me again ‘cause I forgot my manners,” he mumbled, grip tightening on his snack.

“He yelled at you?” Lorelei said in surprise. “I’ll kick his ass. Of course you forgot your manners. You’re only...um…” She paused, furrowing her brow. “Well, if he was in that casino for seven years, and you were cookin’ in the womb for nine months...Whatever, you’re younger than seven. I’m a lot older than that and I forget my manners.”

“As shown by you not knocking on the door,” Rhys said.

“Tim wasn’t in his office, so I figured I’d find him and the kid here,” Lorelei said, holding up a soda. “I brought Phoenix a present.”

Phoenix was staring at her nervously. “Don’t hurt my dad! He didn’t mean to yell!” 

“I’m not really kickin’ his ass, kid,” she said, handing him the soda. 

“You won’t hurt him? You won’t hurt my dad?” Phoenix said anxiously.

“Not a scratch on him, you have my word,” she assured, taking Tim’s abandoned seat at the desk. “Where is the big idiot anyways?”

“He went to get lunch for Phoenix,” Rhys said. “I’ve been trying to cut back his workload to give him a break, but it’s been tough. His position gives him a lot of work, no matter what I try to do to help. And I think he…” He paused, glancing at Phoenix. “I think he’s struggling a bit with the whole single parent thing.”

“I made dad mean?” Phoenix said, voice small. 

“No!” Rhys said hastily. “Just that being a parent is a lot of work. Uh, probably. I don’t actually have kids.”

“Not helping,” Lorelei said. “Listen kid, what he means is that your dad is dealing with a lot. He’s got his work, he’s got to take care of you, and he’s got to take care of himself. That’s a whole lot on his plate.”

“I can take care of myself!” Phoenix insisted.

“Nope, you can’t. And that’s fine. You’re a kid. Kids aren’t supposed to take care of themselves. It’s a parent’s job to take care of their kid,” Lorelei said. “And if he’s struggling to do that on top of everything else? Then it’s his responsibility as an adult to ask for help. It’s got nothin’ to do with you, and he shouldn’t take it out on you.” 

“He’s been taking it out on everyone,” Rhys said. “Uh, not that that’s really a defense in his favor, but still.”

“It’s no wonder the guy’s breaking down. He’s been out of that casino how long now and still hasn’t dealt with the trauma of it?” Lorelei said, kicking back in the chair. “I think he’s just using the kid as an excuse not to deal with his own trauma. It’s not fair to either of them.” 

“I was thinking that too,” Rhys admitted. Tim poured all his time and energy into work and Phoenix. Anytime someone tried to talk about how the casino had affected him, he’d dodge the topic. 

The office door opened and Tim came in, a to-go bag from the cafeteria in his hands. “Hey, Phoenix. Sorry I took so long. Oh, hey, Lorelei. Spoiling my kid again?”

“Someone’s gotta cheer him up after you brought his mood down,” she said.

Tim winced. “Ah, right. That.” He went over to the desk, setting the bag down and kneeling in front of Phoenix. “Want to head back to my office to eat lunch? I grabbed food for both of us.”

Lorelei lightly kicked Tim in the thigh. “He can stay here if he wants. You both can. I’ll grab ya a coffee.”

“It’s my office!” Rhys argued.

“You pretend you mind, but we all know you don’t,” Lorelei said dismissively.

Phoenix looked scared as he tentatively reached out and touched Tim’s knee. “Dad? Can I talk?”

Tim looked pained for a moment. “Of course you can. I’m sorry I yelled at you, Phoenix. You shouldn’t interrupt someone’s conversation, but god knows I’ve got poor manners and social skills too. We’re working on it. So I shouldn’t have yelled over it. Please, talk to me.”

Phoenix threw his arms around Tim’s neck, hugging him tightly. “Dad, ask for help! Boss guy and Lorelei will help you! Then you don’t gotta yell all the time. And I’ll take care of myself so you don’t gotta be stressed.”

Tim hugged him back, looking between Rhys and Lorelei. “Oh, jeez, what did you tell my kid while I was gone?”

“That you need to ask for help,” Lorelei said. “Because we can all see you need it.”

“I don’t!” Tim snapped.

“Exhibit A,” she said.

“Daddy, don’t yell at them! They wanna help!” Phoenix said.

“Oh, god, he never calls me that unless he’s really sad or scared,” Tim groaned, hugging him tighter. 

“I don’t want you to yell anymore,” Phoenix said quietly. “You need help.”

“I...guess I do,” Tim said reluctantly. His eyes widened. “I mean, no, I can handle this. I really can.”

“Tim, you’re dealing with a stressful job, your son’s trauma, your own trauma, and trying to raise a little kid by yourself,” Rhys said. “I know Ember’s in his life. But you’re the one raising him right now.”

“But-” Tim said weakly. “He needs me.”

“That’s the excuse you’ve been using,” Rhys said. “He does need you, but not at the cost of your own health and sanity. Let us help you.”

“You said you want to help his separation anxiety, but I think you’ve got a case of it yourself,” Lorelei said. “You’re afraid to be away from him.”

Tim’s hold on Phoenix became protective, his expression scared and defensive at the accusation. But now that it was out there, Rhys realized it was true.

Tim was just as afraid to be away from Phoenix as Phoenix was afraid to be away from Tim. Rhys hadn’t realized just how unhealthy them constantly being together actually was for both of them.

“Timothy, let us help you,” he said. “Let me take Phoenix for an afternoon. I’ll take him somewhere fun.”

Tim looked like he was going to yell again. Lorelei shot him a glare.

“Rhys and I will both take him. He’ll be perfectly safe,” she said.

“Some of the employees you work with are going to the bar for drinks and trivia. Go with them while we take Phoenix.” Rhys sighed. “You both need it. If you actually care about him getting better, you’ll let us help. At this rate, his separation anxiety will be so ingrained in him, he’ll never make it in the world on his own.”

That seemed to break Tim down. He pressed a kiss to Phoenix’s head, rocking with him a little.

“Okay,” he said at last, voice strained. “Yea, okay. But...But you have to check in with me. And if he gets too upset, you bring him back to me.”

“You won’t yell anymore if I go with boss guy?” Phoenix said, looking afraid.

“You and your good ol’ Uncle Rhys will have a day doing...something. Something safe,” Tim said. 

“Without you?” His hold on Tim tightened.

“You’re the one who wanted me to ask for help,” Tim said, brushing Phoenix’s hair away from his face. “I guess this is the help. Life’s a cruel mistress, huh?”

“It’ll be fun, Phoenix! We’ll do something fun, I promise,” Lorelei said. “And at the end of the day, you can go home and tell your dad all about it and he’ll be so happy you had fun.”

“You will?” Phoenix said.

Tim forced a shaky smile. “Yea, pal. I just want...I just want you to be happy.” He pulled him in for another tight hug. “Sorry I yelled. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Phoenix said, resting his head on Tim’s shoulder. “I knew boss guy and Lorelei would help you, dad.”

“You’re smarter than me,” Tim said with a weak laugh. “Get your brains from your mom and your mouth from your dad.”

Rhys watched the pair, worried about them. Phoenix was doing better in a lot of areas, but the two still hated to be away from each other. Tim was fine in the office because he knew Phoenix was with Rhys. But outside of work?

No, they even slept together. Tim was never away from his son. He had grown just as dependent on Phoenix and Rhys felt terrible he hadn’t realized it until Lorelei said it.

“We’ll get them on track,” Lorelei assured him with a wink, seeming to pick up on his thoughts. “Better start finding safe, fun things around the area. Something tells me we’ll need Timothy’s approval before we can kick this off.”

Rhys had absolutely no idea what to do around here that was both safe and fun for a kid. But he’d find something. He might pretend he hated the title of Uncle Rhys that they’d granted him, but he knew he did care about Tim and Phoenix.

He’d find something that would make Phoenix have so much fun he wouldn’t even miss his dad that much. Rhys would give the boy that and help the pair.