#which refers to either slapping someone or an insulting compliment

[fellulahh]

Random relationship headcanons (all characters!) - F!MC

I’ve done HCs like these before but not for all of the characters - I thought I’d do an updated version with everybody☺️

Lucifer:

Lucifer effectively never refers to MC by her name ever again, he either calls her ‘my love’ or ‘my dear’

He sets Friday nights aside to take MC out for dinner no matter how much paperwork he has left at the end of the week

Lucifer always unconsciously makes MC a cup of coffee in the morning when he’s getting his

He’s not the sort to hold MC’s hand while at RAD, but when they walk together he does subtly place his hand on her lower back

Often their more intimate moments involve laying in front of the fireplace together, sipping glasses of wine as they discuss and joke over their day

Lucifer helps MC with her every goal and when she succeeds, he is always the first to congratulate her. After all, having MC as his partner is what he is most proud of

If he catches MC sassing one of the brothers, he’ll smirk and boast “That’s my girl.”

Sometimes if he’s feeling stressed, he’ll ask MC if she’ll keep him company by sitting in his lap while he works

Mammon:

He’s an absolute sucker for MC calling him ‘babe’ and tells her off if she refers to him as anything else

Mammon’s 100% the little spoon (but don’t you dare ever tell anybody else that)

Expect random booty slaps throughout the day whenever Mammon is near

He loves showing off MC - if they’re at RAD together, he’ll always have his arm around her; nonchalantly planting kisses on her head every now and again when they’re talking to someone

Mammon tells his brothers off if he thinks they’re spending too much time with his human

“What are you doin’ over there?! Come give me some sugar!” He pouts at least 20 times a day

Mammon never grows tired of seeing MC’s body. Every time she undresses for bed, he gawps at her - practically drooling - just like it’s the first time he’s ever seen her

He often randomly buys MC cards and will write little notes inside with his scrawny handwriting simply stating how much he loves and appreciates her (he’s very soft when it comes to MC)

Levi:

If MC is doing something that Levi deems as ‘adorable’, he will immediately pull out his D.D.D and photograph/film her so if he’s ever feeling down he can go through his album and just gaze at her in awe

When he’s talking to Henry 2.0, he refers to MC as the fish’s ‘mum’ and him as ‘dad’ (but don’t tell MC that he ever said that)

He loves to show off that MC is his girlfriend whenever he’s gaming. If he gets insulted over his headset, he’ll reply with ‘yeah? Well I have a girlfriend who’s super hot! Beat that!’

Movie marathons are a must

Levi loves taking MC to the beach and having her straddle him while he wades through the sea (a bit like Baloo and Mowgli)

When he’s gaming, Levi lets MC style his hair. Considering how long it is, the human is very intrigued by what it’d look like pushed back

He gets incredibly excited if MC gets dressed up for something and practically implodes: “that’s my girlfriend!!”

Satan:

Satan is 100% husband material. MC needs help studying? He’s there. MC needs help with cooking dinner? He’s there. MC is feeling stressed and wants a massage? He’s already offered before she can ask.

He’s quite a tease too and will wait until the worst time to show this side of him. MC and Satan could be at the palace having a really formal dinner when he will start whispering in MC’s ear, telling her all of things he’d love to do to her later that evening

MC’s name is now ‘darling’

Satan’s favourite part of the day is when he and MC are sat in bed each night, both reading a book

He loves to hold MC in his arms with her head on his chest whenever they fall asleep

He always makes the bed while MC’s in the bathroom so she doesn’t have to

When he’s on dinner duty, Satan purposefully cooks his and MC’s dinner first so that they can have it alone with a candle lit

Asmo:

Refers to MC as ‘sweetie’

He’s always surprising MC with little gifts - if he’s out shopping and sees something he thinks she’d like he immediately buys it

He helps relieve MC of any stress - if he senses she’s had a bad day he’ll pull out the nail varnish and give her a full on pamper while she moans about whatever is bothering her

His Devilgram is full of candid photos of MC

You can bet he’s super affectionate toward MC - there will never be a day that goes past where she doesnt wake up with a kiss from him

They’re the fiercest couple at RAD - they’re effectively the Devildom equivalent to Posh and Becks

They also go on really cute dates, whether it be little mini breaks, a simple coffee date at a nearby cafe, a day at the beach or beauty salon etc

Beel:

Movie nights with everybody always consist of MC falling asleep in Beel’s lap and then him carrying her up to bed

He’s always calling MC ‘cute’ no matter what she’s doing. She could be having a full on go at him for eating her dinner and he’d just smile at her while thinking ‘could she be anymore adorable?’

Lots and lots of piggy backs

Beel loves hugging MC, he always does that thing where he wraps his jacket around her so he trap the human with his love

Always invites MC to his sports game and whenever she goes, he manages to perform that little bit better to usual

He always offers MC his jacket if she ever gets cold

Everyone dubs them the ‘cutest couple at RAD’ because they’re always holding hands and have the biggest smiles on their faces whenever they’re together

Often they spend their evenings in the kitchen cooking/baking which results in a food fight and eventually sex on the kitchen counter

MC always wears Beel’s top to bed and it makes him so happy to see her in it

Belphie:

He gives MC all of the comfy pillows in their bed - after all he doesn’t need them anymore because his favourite thing to fall asleep on is his human

He’s always coming to MC’s defence. If a lesser demon ever does so much as scowl at her, he immediately puts himself between the two. Nobody is ever going to hurt his human

Belphie wants to learn everything about MC including the things she likes. And if that means he has to sit through hours and hours of a TV show to do that then he’ll commit to it!

He’s always genuinely interested in how MC’s day went and whenever they reunite at the house, he always asks how she is and will listen for however long to what she has to say

He hides food in the fridge for MC “I bought this cake earlier and have hidden it from Beel so that you could have the first slice”

Belphie always wants cuddles from MC - he has to have his head on her chest

He’s also not ashamed of how much he likes to snuggle his human, even if his brothers do tease him for it

Diavolo:

Diavolo is always going above and beyond for MC and acts like she’s already his Queen

He loves taking her on little walks around the castle grounds; telling her all about his ancestors

If Diavolo has to get up early for whatever reason and leave the palace, he’ll always leave a single rose on the bedside table next to MC so she doesn’t wake up feeling forgotten about

He puts MC before his duty - if any nobles ever dare speak ill of his relationship, he immediately dismisses them from their role

Always compliments MC, expressing how ‘positively radiant’ she looks with a huge grin on his face

He loves making MC wear his crown and sit on his throne, in fact he finds it quite the turn on seeing her in a position of power (that’s not the only position he likes seeing her in)

His favourite part of the day is when he gets to return home and see MC in her element doing whatever (studying, drawing etc) looking like the absolute beauty she is

Diavolo always accidentally lets it slip that he wants to have a future with MC - they’d just be talking about something random and then he’d come out with “well I like to think that when our children grow up...” before quickly blushing, realising what he’d said

Barbatos:

He invites MC to the castle a lot to keep him company when he’s serving Diavolo

He’s always surprising MC and leaving her feeling flustered - he could have a completely serious look on his face while he’s doing something for Diavolo but will then turn and whisper to MC “perhaps when I finish this paperwork, I can do you on this desk too” before walking away

Barbatos is always showing off to MC by taking her to different realms and dimensions. Having dinner at a fancy restaurant is too mainstream for him - you want to see France during the Renaissance? Sure, he’ll take you there!

He takes good care of MC and will often sense something is off with her before she even knows. This demon has a different tea for everything

Barbatos loves cooking all of these elaborate dishes only for MC to try and you can bet he’s already memorised all of her favourite meals from the human realm and has perfected them

In fact, some of the very rare moments where he grins is when he and MC are baking together

Even if he’s the one who’s had an incredibly long day, he’ll still run a relaxing bath for MC with candles and salts

Simeon:

Even if MC wakes up and looks like she’s been dragged through a bush backwards, Simeon never fails to compliment her surreal beauty

He calls MC ‘sweetheart’ all the time

Simeon always gets up early so that he can make MC breakfast in bed as it’s the most important meal of the day!

They always bath together

He and MC often go for walks in the park and will bring Luke along if he’s feeling lonely and wants to spend time with his parents

Simeon is incredibly intimate and passionate in their relationship. There’s no such thing as a ‘casual’ kiss with this angel - he never fails to caress MC’s cheek and gaze into her eyes before laying one on her

He always offers to carry MC’s bags while they’re walking through RAD and will effectively treat her like a goddess - opening every door for her, pulling out her chair etc

Simeon’s always gushing to Lucifer about his relationship with MC

Solomon:

MC and Solomon are such a chaotic couple

To show his love for her, he will quote vines (*insert ‘I love you bitch, I ain’t ever gonna stop loving you, bitch’ vine here*)

He is not afraid to show off his love for MC. She could be walking through the corridor at RAD and when he spots her, Solomon will shout ‘DAYUM MY GIRL IS FINE’

Solomon is always making MC laugh. He’s not one for being traditional when it comes to compliments - he’d definitely hit her up with “I would drag my balls through lava just to hear you fart down a walkie talkie”

He’s quite a show off too - the demons are all jealous that MC loves him and not them so he always gushes about his human

If he ever takes an unflattering photo of MC, he immediately turns her into a meme much to his amusement

Although he jokes a lot and isn’t always serious, when they’re alone together, Solomon is incredibly loving and would easily be happy to just sit there and stare at MC in silence for ten minutes so that he can take a moment to appreciate how lucky he is

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Oreo

Synopsis:  As a joke, Roman's forced to ask Virgil out after losing an oreo. Flustered, and somewhat embarrassed and humiliated by the connotation that dating him would be such a bad thing, he says yes out of impulse, and must now deal with what being Roman's "boyfriend" entails. 

Before we start this one, I'd like to explain how Oreo works, as some may not know. If you play it differently, good for you, but this is the way we played at my old school. Basically, two people play Rock, Paper, Scissors, and the winner got to tell the loser to ask someone out. The winner could pick whoever they wanted, and the loser had to oblige. They'd approach the person the winner picked, and would have to say "I lost an oreo." The person they said that to would have to either say "yes" or "no." If answered no, that was the end. However, if answered yes, the two would then officially be going out. But, there was a catch. You couldn't simply end the relationship there. Only the person who had said "yes" had the ability to end the relationship. So basically, if you lost an oreo and asked someone out and they said yes, you were stuck with them until they were done with you. Anyway, with that explained, we're good to go.

Part One: Dickbucket (Derogatory) Masterlist

Roman Prince leans against his locker, the same cocky smile he always wore fresh on his face. A group of fellow jocks in matching red varsity jackets were huddled around him, joking and teasing amongst one another, occasionally slapping or shoving each other after a particularly rude or insulting comment.

Roman usually wasn't one for that. Light teasing and joking perhaps, but never particularly bullying his friends. He never liked the responses they'd have, and his friends never particularly knew how to hold back when it came to jokes. Perhaps a filter would do them good, but until they developed one, Roman would watch and snicker from the sidelines.

Although he was close with them, and focused a lot on the sports that he played, he had a love for theatre, and often would charm people with his pop-culture references, light-hearted and casual nature, and frequent compliments and silly nicknames he'd assign to people.

Teachers loved him. Students loved him. Everyone loved him.

Well, almost everyone.

Pan to Virgil Addams, a snarky, pessimistic, opinionated boy who spoke his mind under his breath as he glared at those with notably stupid opinions. His teachers regarded him as just another student, neither exceptionally good nor noticeably bad. He just existed.

He wouldn't describe himself as smart. He knew enough to get by, and knew enough to avoid failing classes, and to him that was fine. Although he wasn't charming, and frankly wouldn't be described as a joy to be around, he was satisfied enough with the way he is. For the most part, anyway.

Unlike Roman, Virgil's friend group was fairly small. For the most part, they tried to keep their heads down, and fortunately, none of them were too insistent on being noticed and included, at least not openly, and luckily for them, not many people knew or cared who they were.

But the athletic clique knew, and they cared, and boy did they just love picking on Virgil and his friends.

However, that wasn't the only reason Virgil didn't like Roman; he had a plethora of reasons. If asked, he could go off on a whole tangent about every different aspect he despised. Roman was always so smug and cocky; he thought he was better than everyone he met. He was a player; he would flirt with anyone who gave him attention.

Winks and kisses were handed out frequently, and attempting to recount every time Virgil had witnessed Roman bend over to kiss someone's hand romantically would give him a headache.

Thinking back on it, though, Virgil doesn't recall every hearing or seeing that Roman was in a relationship.

As the school bell rings, heavy chatter fills the hallways, which begin to flood with students as they rush to their lockers, desperate to leave the building and spend the rest of their days amongst each other, and discard any information that had been fed to them throughout the day. To most kids, this building was their penitentiary, and they spent all day miserably waiting to escape this hell.

A heavy slam near Virgil's locker makes him jump, before he turns to glare at a familiar grinning face. There was Remus, annoying as ever, eyes sparkling with sadistic intent.

"How've you been, freak?" Remus asks, voice mocking, causing Virgil to scowl.

"Same as always, dickbucket," Virgil hisses in reply, before slamming his locker shut. He adjusts his backpack strap on his shoulder, before turning to walk away from Remus, in hopes of avoiding confrontation.

However, Remus catches him by the back of his shirt and pulls the boy back, causing Virgil to let out a small gag, before shooting Remus a look of pure resentment.

"Awww, leaving so soon?" Remus coos. "Why not hang with us for a while?" The mention of an 'us' causes Virgil to nervously glance around, and eventually he notices some other jocks sauntering towards him, all of them wearing equally malicious grins.

Virgil inwardly groans. With a gulp, his eyes desperately dart around, searching for his two friends Janus and Logan. Janus wouldn't stand for this; surely he'd help Virgil out, but unfortunately he was nowhere in sight. Neither was Logan, adding to the anxiety knotting in Virgil's gut, although he wasn't entirely sure the noiret would be much help here.

"Hey, Virgil," one of Remus's friends says, snarkily. "How's it been living with no friends?"

A jab at his beloved bangs makes Virgil scowl, and he's quick to bite back "how's it been living with no dick?"

Virgil looks slightly panicked as the halls begin to clear out. Soon enough, he'd be alone with Remus and his lackeys, and Virgil knew the moment everyone was gone, Remus would probably beat his ass. He'd threatened it before as a way to scare Virgil, but the latter had no way of knowing if Remus would carry out his threats.

He tries to step to the side, hoping to avoid any further confrontation for now, but Remus's grip tightens on the back of his shirt, and two of Remus's other friends were blocking his way. Virgil's eyes dart around again, anxiety welling up inside of him. The hallways were getting emptier and emptier.

He gulps, as Remus suddenly lets go of his shirt, only to wrap his arm around Virgil's neck.

Virgil's backpack was pressed against Remus's chest, putting a small amount of distance between them, although the man's arm was still wrapped loosely around his throat. Any slight appliance of pressure from Remus would pull Virgil's breath right from him.

"You talk a lot of smack for someone who can't even defend himself," Remus hisses, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. He applies the smallest amount of pressure, inner elbow crushing Virgil's throat, and he lets out a choked breath, nails coming up to scratch desperately at Remus's arm.

Virgil would kill for the ability to force himself out of Remus's grip, but it seemed his adrenaline was failing him, and he wasn't anywhere near as strong as Remus was.

"Hey," a silky voice suddenly calls, and Virgil was almost immediately released from Remus's grasp. He lets out a cough, as he turns to glare at the man who had just been holding him. Quickly approaching behind Remus was Remus's own twin brother, Roman, and he looked upset.

"What the hell were you doing?" Roman hisses, flicking Remus upside the head. Remus lets out a small grunt of pain, before glaring at Roman, raising his own hand to smack Roman upside the head in response, Roman huffing at the action.

"We were just joking around," Remus states, raising his hands defensively, although a wicked smile was still plastered to his voice.

"It wasn't a funny joke, you bitch," Virgil growls back, irascibly, causing Remus to turn and merely glare at him.

Roman sighs as he steps between the two, holding a hand out in front of each of them. "Both of you, knock it off," he instructs, and Virgil furrows his brows.

"You want me to knock it off?" he snaps, voice bitter. "I'm sorry that I'm angry that I was just put into a chokehold seconds ago by your idiot brother!" He flips Roman off, his other hand clenched so hard in a fist that his nails pierced his skin. "Fuck you, Roman. I hope you and Remus choke on dicks and die."

And with that, he turns and storms off, pushing past Remus's other two friends as he does so, ignoring the wave of uncomfortableness that washes over him when his shoulders hit theirs.

Remus bristles at Virgil's words. "What an ass--" he begins, only to quickly be interrupted by Roman huffing and waving a hand in his face.

"You say, like you didn't deserve what he just said," Roman cuts in.

Remus shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, shoulders coming up as Remus shrugs, looking annoyed by the scolding. "I was just messing around, Roman! Jeez!"

Roman's frown deepens. "Strangling someone isn't a joke, Remus. Get that through your head, or I'll get coach to kick you off the team."

Remus mumbles something under his breath, before calling his friends over and leaving with them. He knows his parents will hassle his ass if Roman gets him kicked off the varsity team. He didn't like sports, but it gave him a way to tackle people and not get arrested for it, and even he had to admit it was a good way for him to burn off energy.

Outside, on the walk home from school, Virgil texts Janus. He quickly asks where his friend is at, and if he could come stay at Janus's place tonight. His dad was away on a vacation, and believe it or not, Virgil didn't like being alone.

When Janus doesn't respond, Virgil lets out a groan, constantly pocketing his phone and pulling it out when he feels phantom vibrations. He knows Janus will answer his phone eventually, but Virgil was admittedly annoyed that he'd have to walk home for now only to walk over to Janus's later (if his request was approved), when he could just walk to Janus's place now and save himself the wasted time.

Especially because Janus lived quite a walk away from him. But, Virgil didn't want to be invasive, so he'd wait until Janus says it was okay to come over, as opposed to just showing up randomly. That'd be weird, especially if he got there and Janus didn't want to see him.

Oh God, what if Janus didn't even want to talk to him? What if that's why he's not answering his phone?

Virgil shakes his head as he continues walking down his street, simultaneously trying to brush away his anxiety and the creeping feeling of loneliness. He really didn't want to go home.

Drawing in a nervous breath, he pulls out his phone once more, sending a quick text to Logan asking if he could go over there. Logan lived on the next street over, in between Virgil and Janus's houses. Logan answers immediately (which makes sense, considering he always has his phone on hand so he can always stay up to date with any new political or historical news), and says that he can.

A small smile graces Virgil's lips. Logan would listen as Virgil ranted about his day, and while he probably wasn't the best at sympathizing with others, he'd at least be able to offer logistical solutions that would eventually help Virgil move past it.

Immediately crossing the street, Virgil turned down a side road and trudged along the sidewalk before walking down Logan's street to the man's house, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black jeans.

As he walks up to the door, he can hear loud talking from inside, muffled words just barely reaching Virgil's ears. He tries to listen for a moment and catch wind of the situation, preparing to leave if it sounded particularly bad inside, but after a moment he hears something said in a much fonder tone. Somewhat assured, he knocks on the door, and a few moments later a black-haired woman answers it, and peers down at him.

After staring for a few moments, she turns to look behind her, before calling out "Logan! Virgil's here." She then opens the door fully and lets Virgil inside, standing by him as Logan came down the stairs. He offers a nod towards Virgil and a quiet "thanks" to his mother before he waves Virgil back upstairs.

On the walk up, Virgil heard a playful shout of "Ant, there's hardly any way that'll work!" followed by masculine laughter. It was weird hearing Logan's parents so emotional, and he'd be more tempted to ask what good thing had happened today if his own day hadn't been so hectic.

Logan gently settles back onto his own bed, notebooks neatly spread out in front of him, before he gathers them up and sets them onto a nearby desk. He then turns to Virgil and pats the space next to him. Virgil shrugs his backpack off his shoulders and lets it fall to the ground with a heavy thump, before hopping back on Logan's bed and leaning back until his head lands against the black comforter.

From his position on the bed, he turns his head and allows his eyes to glance around Logan's room. He'd been in here many times, but Virgil still felt the need to look.

Logan's grey walls were mostly bare, aside from the occasional shelf or scientific poster. Virgil had coincidentally been with Logan when he purchased the giant poster of the periodic table, and had even helped him hang it over his desk.

He had commented at the time that it was dorky, but Logan smiled when he saw it, and so Virgil shut his mouth.

There were minimal photos of Logan's family around - only one specifically that Virgil could see without having to lift his head. It was of his parents, looking rather neutral, while they held a very smiley child between them.

Unable to help it, Virgil glances at Logan after looking at the picture, eyeing his friend's blank expression as he reads something on his phone, seemingly used to Virgil's routine by now.

Virgil turns away from him after a moment, continuing his scan of Logan's room. A few shelves lined the walls, occupied by geodes or models of different atoms. Generic science stuff, if Virgil had to describe it, but it seemed to fit.

However, Virgil's eyes always seemed to end up looking at Logan's nightstand, even though that involved him sitting up partially. Resting on it was a box, a black glasses case, and a framed photo. Unlike the basic black frames that the photos on Logan's walls had, this frame was silver with black touches, and had a sculpted rose in the top right corner.

Inside the frame was a photo of Logan, Janus, and Virgil when they were kids. They were all smiling wide, while keeping some sort of hold on each other. Logan and Virgil's hands were clasped tightly together, Janus's arm was around Logan's shoulder whilst Logan's was around Janus's waist. They were pressed close together.

Virgil smiles at the photo.

Wordlessly, Logan's hands suddenly land on the box placed on his nightstand, and he pulls it over before placing it between him and Virgil. He opens it, and turns it around to face Virgil, revealing the inner contents that Virgil had seen many times before.

It was a box full of different coloured nail polishes, mostly in hues that ranged from black to purple. It had been a combined gift from both Janus and Virgil for Logan's birthday one year. He hardly ever used the polish on himself, but he enjoyed seizing the opportunity to paint the other's nails.

By turning the box towards him, Virgil knew by now that Logan was silently asking him to pick one. Virgil, obviously, picked the blackest one within the box.

Logan's not surprised, but he just hums and closes the box, setting it off to the side before taking the tube of nail polish from Virgil and opening it.

"So, what happened?" Logan asked, as he gently takes Virgil's hand into his. The brush slides over Virgil's thumb with practiced ease, painting the nail precisely and so confidently that he didn't worry about placing a paper towel on his bed. He hadn't had nail polish drip from his brush since he first started painting, and Virgil learned the hard way that he better not touch any of Logan's things with wet nail polish donning his fingers.

Virgil snorts at Logan's question, however, eyes training on each movement Logan's hand makes. "Why do you think something happened?" he asks, before he watches Logan's eyes flicker up and briefly meet his own.

Logan merely pushes up his glasses. "I'm taking an advanced placement psychology course, Virgil," he begins, and Virgil resists the urge to roll his eyes. "And even if I wasn't, you're not as hard to read as you like to believe. I can tell when something's wrong with you because of your mannerisms; ones I've learned to notice and be alerted by over the years.

"So by being your friend," Virgil begins, as Logan works his way over to Virgil's pinkie finger. "I've basically reduced my chances of hiding my feelings from you?" He asks the question semi-jokingly, and there's a playful smile on his lips as he says it.  

Much to his delight, Logan lets out a small laugh, before answering “I suppose.”

Once Logan finished painting his hand, Virgil brings it up to his face so he could study his now painted nails, before he offers his other hand to Logan. Logan takes it, and gets to work painting that one too.

"Remus is just a dick," Virgil states with a small laugh. "And his lackeys. They’re insufferable."

Logan groans - perhaps the most expressive he would get tonight - before he responds with “Believe me, I know. He knocked my books out of my arms recently and proceeded to step on some important papers, so I threw a brick through his car window."

Virgil suddenly chokes on the spit in his mouth. "You what?" His eyes are wide as he stares at Logan, who looks just as he sounds: dead serious.

"I threw a brick through his car window," Logan says again, raising an eyebrow. With a grin, Virgil makes a mental note to be careful when teasing his friend.

Logan finishes up Virgil’s hand, before proceeding to inspect it and make sure everything was done well. After a moment, he looks pleased, and he twists the cap back onto the tube of polish, before putting it back in the box.

"Thanks Logan,” Virgil says, as he turns his hand in order to look over the black gloss painted over his nails. “These look perfect.”

Logan merely scoffs playfully, responding "they are perfect."

Virgil lets out a soft laugh, as Logan places the box of nail polish back on his nightstand. He very carefully adjusts it so that it’s positioned in the corner, edges lined up with the edges of the nightstand. He turns back to Virgil afterwards, and his mouth opens to say something, before Virgil’s phone rings.

Virgil gives a helpless snicker as he stands up, careful not to touch anything. "Can you grab my phone and answer it for me?" he asks, and Logan shrugs. He does as Virgil asks and grabs it from his back pocket, before answering and putting it on speaker, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Hello?" the noiret says, as Virgil sits back down next to him.

"Logan? Why do you have Virgil’s phone?"

Virgil rolls his eyes as Janus’s voice spills from the speaker. "He just finished painting my nails and they aren't dry yet,” he explains, as Logan grabs his hands and double checks that Virgil hadn’t accidentally bumped them against anything.

"Ah," Janus replies with a laugh. "I understand now. Anyway, Virgil, my dad said you could come over and spend the night. Logan, you can come too if you want."

"Sure,” Logan says, with a shrug. It’s not like he had anything going on anyway. "Let me just pack a bag." He slides off his bed and grabs his backpack from where it’s propped against his desk, before he sets it on the bed.

Janus hums on the other end. "Okay. I assume you guys are gonna head over once Logan’s finished?"

"Probably," Virgil responds, as he watches Logan swiftly unpack the school supplies in his bag and organize them neatly on his desk. He then moves to his dresser and grabs a pair of overnight pajamas and casual clothes for the next morning. "See you soon."

"Okay, bye."

Janus ends the call, and Virgil glances towards Logan, who had entered his conjoined bathroom and was grabbing his toothbrush, extra toothpaste, deodorant, and other hygienic items despite the fact they both knew Janus had a surplus amount of self-care related items that he… obtained (through less than ethical means).

"I doubt you’re going to need all of that stuff, L."

“It doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” Logan replies, curtly. “Besides, I’m free all week, aside from school. I might just ask to stay over there since I have nothing else to do. I think I might have left some clothes over there anyway.”

He zips up his bag and slings it over his shoulder, before turning to look at Virgil, silently letting him know he was done.

Virgil nods, and grabs his own bag, before flicking Logan’s light off. With one last parting glance towards the framed photo, he accompanies Logan downstairs.

Logan had already found his mom and was informing him that they were leaving, although she sounded fairly uninterested.

“Don’t get in legal trouble,” she says, and Virgil doesn’t know if she’s joking or not. “Legal issues within the family damage the reputation of your father’s firm."

"Yes, mom, I assumed," Logan replies, with the same serious tone of voice and look on his face.

She stares at him for a moment, before nodding, and turning and walking off, presumably back to her room.

Logan then turns back to Virgil and then heads towards the front door, rightfully expecting Virgil to follow him. The conversation from earlier had died down completely, and now it was weirdly silent as Virgil’s heavy footsteps resonated throughout the living room.

As he shut the door behind him, the noise of it clicking shut sounded way too loud, and a weird sense of premonition washed over him. He draws in a deep breath, assuming it’s just a random bout of anxiety, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is going to go wrong today.

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Family of Our Own: Chapter 3

Chapter 2

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The dining room was loud and boisterous as it always was before supper. Jenny bustled in with dish after dish, Claire and Maggie trailing behind with more. Mary MacNab was feeding wee Ian in the nursery to keep the meal somewhat formal given that they had a guest. The men had just finished washing up from the day, and Jamie was upstairs fetching John from his room. After the tour of the grounds, Jamie got back to work, and John got himself settled in his room.

As Claire sat herself down, Jamie returned, John right behind him. All conversation immediately ceased. Even Kitty, little devil though she was, had the sense to be scared. Claire watched as John surveyed the six sets of wide, little eyes gaping at him, and the narrowed, piercing gaze of Jenny. Jamie either didn’t notice or chose to ignore the awkward silence, and he pulled out a chair, indicating John to sit right beside him. Claire chided herself for the ridiculous pang of jealousy that struck her sternum. Brianna always sat between her and Jamie. But there was nothing between him and John.

“This looks splendid,” John said lightly, smiling warmly at Jenny. “My compliments to the Mistress of the house.”

“Mhm.” Jenny nodded curtly, reaching to fill Michael and Janet’s plates without even looking up at John.

Claire’s face flamed with secondhand embarrassment, and she noticed that John was no less affected.

“Lord John is very good at chess, I hear,” Claire said rather stupidly. “Quite a formidable opponent for you, Ian.”

Ian had the decency to look up from his food and smile and nod genially, but he said nothing.

“And what does that make me?” Jamie said, joking.

“You don’t recall all the times you lost?” John side-eyed him, smirking, and Jamie scoffed, gesturing flippantly with his fork.

“Ye played chess in prison, then?” Jenny cut in sharply, finally looking directly at John with no mercy in her cold eyes.

“Aye,” Jamie did not seem at all perturbed, even though Claire suddenly had little to no appetite. “I was a conduit of sorts, for John to learn and understand the prisoners’ needs. I spoke for them over meals and games of chess.”

Claire did not miss how Jenny visibly cringed at Jamie referring to John so informally.

“He was an excellent advocate,” John cut in. “He cares very much about his people. He was born to be a leader.”

“Shame he canna be one,” Jenny snapped, putting more potatoes on Kitty’s plate. “Seeing as he canna own his own family land.”

John swallowed thickly. “That…yes, that is quite a shame. If there was something to be done about it—”

“Ye’ve done enough, man,” Ian said, and despite his discomfort, Claire could tell he meant it. “And we thank ye.”

“God forbid he lose his position serving the Crown,” Jenny said with no hidden ire. Maggie looked like she was about to burst into tears out of sheer discomfort, her food completely untouched. Young Jamie’s ears and nose were bright red with anger, apparently old enough now to understand. Kitty and Brianna kept looking at each other and then back at the adults.

“Janet,” Jamie snapped. “Enough.”

“Forgive me,” she said without any hint of an actual apology in her tone. “Shall we continue discussing yer fine meals together in prison?”

“Jenny…” Claire tried, but her quiet attempt at calm was completely talked over.

“It looked just like this, I suppose. You sitting there all high and mighty in yer fine red coat.”

“Janet—”

“And you,” she interrupted Jamie, pointing fiercely at him, “sitting there wi’ him like his coat isna stained wi’ the blood of yer people!”

“Ma, please stop…” Maggie blubbered helplessly.

“Like ye’re equals!” Jenny went on. “Like right now. Sitting there in yer redcoat like ye own the lot of us.”

“Madame, I assure you…”

“Dinna even have the decency to wear something else in the presence of these children who’ve seen nothing but terror from the likes of it!”

“I…I don’t have…”

“Mummy…” Brianna tugged on Claire’s sleeve, and before she could open her mouth to comfort her, Jenny stood.

“Children, out. Take yer plates to the nursery. All of ye. Now.”

She hastily dumped more meat and potatoes on all of their plates as they shuffled out, dumbstruck with fear, Maggie’s sniffling echoing down the halls until their footsteps disappeared up the stairs.

Jamie stood the second the children were out of earshot, and Claire shot to her feet to contain his rage.

“Ye’re out of line, sister,” Jamie said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I am?” she roared, puffing her chest out with her hands on her hips. “Ye must be bloody mad! Bringing him in to dine like he’s one of us! With my children!”

“He’s a friend!”

“But not one of us!” she spat, her face reddening. “And I canna believe ye…ye dined wi’ him in chains…” Her eyes watered. 

“I was never chained, Jenny.”

“That’s no’ the point!” She angrily swiped at her tears. “Ye let him…use ye…”

Claire’s chest tightened.

“And he’s got ye still like a dog on a lead! It’s plain as the nose on my face watching ye talk wi’ him!”

“What the devil are ye implying?” Jamie’s voice lowered dangerously.

“I may no’ have been farther than Broch Mordha in all my life, but I’m no’ daft.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Ye bloody told us he’s fond of ye. I bloody ken what that means.”

“Jenny, come on now…” Ian heaved himself to his feet and touched her shoulder.

Claire glanced down at John, and he looked like he was contemplating drowning himself in his soup. Jamie was vibrating beside her, and she put a gentle, calming hand on his forearm.

“I just…” Jenny gasped in a hiccup of tears, her hand flying to her chest. “I didna ken that ye…that you…” She swallowed thickly, gathering her resolve. “Ye didna say you were fond of him.”

In the time it took Claire to blink, something shattered, food splattered all over, and Jamie was leaning across the table, his nose inches away from Jenny’s.

“I’m. Not. Fond. Of anything.”

Claire took a trembling breath, watching Jamie growl in Jenny’s face, Jenny still as stone, not backing down. She took her eye off them for a split second, long enough to see two tears trail down John’s cheeks.

“Dinna lie to me, brother,” Jenny said calmly. “I dinna ken what he did to ye, and I dinna want to know. I just want this madness to stop.”

Jamie heaved, his entire body convulsing with each breath. Claire dare not take a step or move an inch.

“Bringing a redcoat into my home is bad enough,” she went on. “But bringing in a redcoat that’s…someone like him…in front of the children…” Her voice broke again. “How could ye do it, brother…? How could ye let a sodomite—”

A sharp crack filled the air, and Claire felt all the air rush out of her. Jenny recoiled with a stifled cry, holding her cheek. A terrible, painful silence followed, and Jamie straightened up, as if realizing what he’d done. Claire looked at Ian, and she wanted to weep. She had never seen him filled with such anger.

“I’m no’ an impulsive man, Jamie,” Ian said unevenly. “But if ye dinna quit my sight this instant, I’ll pound yer bloody face in fer what ye’ve just done.”

Without a word, Jamie was gone, and the blood rushing in Claire’s ears was too loud for her to hear where he’d gone to. A chair scraped to her left, then a flash of red zipped by; John disappeared.

Not knowing what else to do, Claire sprang into medical action, striding around the table to examine Jenny’s face.

“I’m fine,” she pushed Claire’s hands away. “Nothing more than a bit of stinging. He’d never hit me hard enough to leave a mark.”

“Well he still shouldn't have done that,” Claire said, her voice more thick with emotion than she’d realized it would be. “You’re not children. He’s a grown man with the strength of three grown men. He should not be laying hands on anybody half his size.”

“No,” Ian growled. “He shouldna.”

“D’ye think me mad, sister?” Jenny said desperately, grasping Claire by the shoulders. “Or d’ye see it? Ye must ken what I mean! Ye’re his wife! Has he told ye?”

Claire gently pried Jenny’s fingers off her and laced them with hers. “I don’t think you’re mad. But I do think there’s something you’re missing. And I...I don’t think you should have spoken to Jamie that way. Nor should you have spoken about John like that right in front of him.”

Jenny blinked dumbly. “D’ye no’—”

“Yes, I do,” Claire said sharply. “Jamie told me that John is in love with him.”

“In love?”

“Yes.”

“That’s impossible!”

“No, it isn’t.” Claire’s face heated with anger. “And John never hurt Jamie. Never.”

“But what if it didna...what if it wasna...unpleasant for him? That’s what I’m trying to tell ye!”

“No,” Claire said quickly, too quickly. “Jamie wouldn’t...he said he didn’t. John told me they didn’t. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

“D’ye think they’d confess to such a sin?”

“It’s not a sin.”

“I ken yer time is different sister, but—”

“This has nothing to do with time,” Claire said resolutely. “John is a human being and he can’t help the way he feels. And you have no right to make him feel horrid for who he is.”

Jenny let go of Claire’s hands and crossed her arms, embarrassed. “I don’t...I dinna understand.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Claire said gently, crossing her own arms. “I admit I don’t really understand it either. But it’s none of my business.”

“It is yer business if he’s rogering yer husband.”

Claire recoiled as if she was hit in the face, blinking in shock.

“If you don’t take that back this instant, I’ll slap you myself.”

Jenny flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, sister. I’m sorry.”

Claire sighed impatiently. “I’ll go talk to Jamie. After you’ve both cooled down, you will apologize. For insulting his friend, and him.”

“But—”

“And if Jamie has been unfaithful,” Claire gathered her skirts and walked away, stopping in the doorway, “I will deal with him in my own way.”

——

After several minutes of searching, Claire found Jamie in the stables, his forehead pressed to the snout of his horse as he whispered in Gaelic, stroking his muzzle. He seemed to have calmed considerably, for which Claire had the horses to thank. They always had a soothing effect on him, even as far back as when she’d first met him.

“Has Jenny convinced ye I’m a filthy pervert, then?”

Claire recoiled a bit, but pressed on, taking a few more steps into the stable. “No.”

“I’m sorry if I frightened ye,” Jamie said sadly. “But I’m no’ sorry I hit her.”

“I don’t blame you,” Claire admitted. “She was behaving abhorrently.”

“I hear what ye’re no’ saying, Sassenach,” Jamie said, still not looking at her. “Ye condemn Jenny, but ye still want to ask me if she’s right.”

Claire straightened her spine, embarrassed she’d been found out so easily.

“Well, wouldn’t you?” Claire tried, taking another step forward. “If a man showed up on our threshold and started acting so...familiar with me, and went on about all the evenings we spent together...wouldn’t you wonder?”

“Aye. I would.” He finally released the horse and turned around, flicking a piece of hay away impatiently. “But ye thought I was dead. I’d no’ shame ye for remarrying, or trying to. I kent ye lived and maybe waited for me. Why would I betray ye? Why would ye think it? And wi’...wi’ a bloody s—”

“Don’t say it.” Claire put a hand up. “I’ve heard that word quite enough for one lifetime, now.”

“Is that no’ what he is?”

“He’s a man, first and foremost. And your friend, secondly.”

“Aye. But I dinna have to agree wi’ how he lives his life.”

“But you don’t have to treat him so awfully for it, either,” Claire said firmly. “He can’t help how he feels about you. I admit I didn’t realize how...strongly he felt until he showed up today. I was...frightened by it, truthfully.”

“What frightened ye, Sassenach?”

“I...I don’t know…” Claire shook her head. “When I saw that it went beyond...lust...I thought...I was afraid that…”

“I dinna love him,” Jamie growled, his body tightening.

“I didn’t say you did,” Claire said, her voice quiet with awed horror. “You said that.”

He stepped back, running an impatient hand through his hair. “I don’t.”

Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “John told me nothing...happened.”

“It didn’t.”

Claire almost jumped at his vehemence.

“And if anything would ha’ happened, it woulda been my choice. My own free will. As ye well know.”

Claire blinked a few times, unable to reconcile with the unfamiliar rage roiling in her gut. “You’d...let him do that…hurt you...but you don’t love him.”

“He wouldna hurt me!” Jamie said furiously. “Why are ye so determined to make him a monster?”

“Why are you so determined to defend him?” Claire shot right back. “You say it as if you’d...want him to!”

“Want him to what, Claire?” Jamie took a dangerous step forward, hovering over him.

“You know bloody well what!”

Jamie roughly seized her upper arm, yanking her close. “Say it, Claire. I want ye to look me in the eye and tell me what it is ye think I want.”

“You want to know what I think?”

“Aye! I do!” He shook her a bit.

“I want to know if you actually let him fuck you to buy your freedom! And if you fucking wanted him to! And enjoyed it!”

He released her suddenly with a great shove, and with a mighty roar, he punched his fist into the door of an empty stall behind him, spooking all of the horses. Claire gasped, stumbling back and falling onto her rear. She knew to her deepest core that he could have hit her with that force. He threw her away to protect her from the rage she’d stirred in him.

But, God help her, she still wasn’t done.

“I don’t bloody care who it is! I care if it happened or not!” She stayed on the ground, crying up to him like a pathetic child. “And I care that you might not think it...counts because he’s a man! And God, Jamie! It does!”

“Of course it counts!” he shouted. “It would! If it’d happened! Why, why would I lie to you?” “Because you’re ashamed! I can see it all over your face!” She pointed accusingly, openly weeping at him. “If it were a woman you’d be on your knees begging my forgiveness, but because it’s a man, you’re ashamed!”

That gave him pause, and Claire thought she’d gotten through to him, thought he was about to make a confession. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Aye. I am ashamed.”

Claire let out a tiny sob, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. It was her doing, wrenching it out of him like this; it was what she’d wanted. And yet she wished she could undo it all, live in blissful ignorance forever. She couldn’t bear to hear him say it, and yet she had to.

“I’m ashamed because I’m afraid.”

This gave her pause. She blinked, picking her head up off her knees. “Afraid…?”

“I’m afraid of what would have happened if he’d agreed to it.”

And all at once, Claire wanted to die with shame, because she knew with all her heart that he was telling the truth.

“I’m afraid I would have...enjoyed it. As ye said.” He took a stuttering breath, more tears littering his cheeks. “There was a...a thrill that ran through me when I asked him. And it scared me senseless. And I ken. I ken that...that Randall put that in me. I ken.”

“Jamie…” Claire practically squeaked. She unfurled from herself and got on her knees. “Jamie...come here. Come here, love…”

He obeyed, dropping to his knees like dead weight, and Claire gathered him in her arms until his head was in her lap, hands fisting her skirts.

“That man put nothing in you. Nothing. He owns no part of you and you own no part of him.”

He shook his head, and she stroked his hair, hushing him.

“If you...if you’d enjoy being with a man...a man who cares about you...loves you, even...it’s not the same thing. It’s not.”

She listened to his quiet sniffling and bit down her own tears, working to steady her voice.

“That’s not...how that works,” she struggled to find the words. “I don’t know much about John, but he’s not...the way he is because somebody hurt him. People don’t just...become that way. He was born that way. And if...if you…”

“No. I’m no’ like him.”

“Not like John? Or not like Randall?”

“John is a good man.”

“I know,” she soothed. “I know.”

“I ken he’s a good man...and yet I...I canna…” he took a deep breath. “Ye remember I told ye I beat a man senseless fer implying John and I were...buggering.”

“I remember.”

“It wasna to defend John’s honor. No’ really. And he knew it. I think he knows...something. I never told him, and I never will. But he could tell.”

“So why did you beat him then?” Claire knew the answer, but she needed to hear Jamie say it.

“Because I couldna stand anyone thinking I was that way. It made be blind wi’ rage.”

Claire nodded, stroking his cheek with her knuckles. “I know.”

“I...my mind knows that John is good...but my body...recoils to think of what he is.”

“To...think of what you might be?”

It was risky. He could kill her in one fell swoop.

Instead, he tightened his grip around her waist and buried his face further into her.

“I don’t care, Jamie. I don’t. I don’t know how to help you accept that part of yourself, but just know that it makes no difference to me.”

Claire swallowed. “I’m sorry I was so horrid. I said exactly what I knew would get you the most upset. And I know why it gets you upset. And it was so, terribly wrong of me.”

She felt a fervent kiss to her abdomen, and she clung to his hair.

“I think I...as much as I respect and admire him...I just as equally resent him. And it’s awful because you were in prison, for Christ’s sake...but I…” Her voice caught in her throat. “I know I’ve said it enough times, but you were dead. I was so lost without you. We all were. We were harassed and starved and beaten, and we lost and feared…” She shook her head. “And for those eight years, he had you. You were at his beck and call to dine with and...play chess...all the while I thought you were rotting on Culloden Moor.”

Jamie sat up, looking into her eyes with enough remorse to crumble the strongest resolve.

“I’m your wife. I’m your fucking wife,” she said, teeth clenched. “I was your wife those entire eight years that he had you pretend I didn’t exist; you didn’t even know your daughter existed. I cried into my fucking potatoes every night for years beacuse you weren’t at supper and all he had to do was look up and see you right there. And the thought of it makes me…” She must have been trembling, because he put steadying hands on her shoulders. “I can’t bear to think of it.”

Jamie tenderly kissed her forehead.

“And to think of him having just that one bit more of you...the only thing that I’d have to claim over him…” She shrugged uselessly, feeling like a petulant toddler fighting for rights to a toy. “To think of you giving yourself to him the way you give yourself to me while I couldn’t even bring myself to touch myself for eight years…”

“But I didn’t, Claire,” he said vehemently. “I didn’t.”

She nodded, pursing her lips. “I know,” she croaked. “I know.”

He captured her lips gently, almost hesitantly, and she reciprocated in kind, fingers trembling on his cheeks.

“D’ye doubt that I love you?”

“No,” Claire answered without hesitation. “Not for a single second.”

Jamie nodded, sighing in relief. “I was afraid...once ye knew the darkest parts of me...ye’d think I couldna…”

Claire shook her head, kissing him lightly again. “It doesn’t make you dark. Or incapable of love.”

“Or incapable of loving that ye’re a woman…?”

Claire shook her head again. “You tell me, Jamie. Do you still love these…?” She took his hands and guided them to her breasts, delighting in the stutter of his breath. He nodded reverently. She guided his hands under her skirts. “How about this?”

He groaned, and a chill ran down her spine.

“Aye, lass. God, I do…”

She straddled him, kissing him more deeply, grinding down into his hand. “Then nothing else matters.”

[cmtwimagines]

Just Another Day

PLATONIC-ISH COWORKER!SEBASTIAN STAN x READER x (TINY BIT OF) PLATONIC COWORKER!MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER 

SUMMARY: You had gotten too comfortable at your old job where no one noticed anything about you and didn’t think about how hard it would be to hide your ongoing secrets from your new coworkers.

WARNINGS: Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Anxiety

WORD COUNT: 4.4k (whew another long one, oopsies!)

You knew with starting a new job that some of your secrets would shine through eventually. You were beyond grateful to have gotten this job, even if it was just retail. You had been struggling financially which had taken a toll on your mental health, so working again and knowing you have consistent paychecks coming your way was relieving.

Compared to your previous job, it only took the first day working at this new company to realize how bad you previously had it and how lucky you were to have landed this one. Your coworkers were all so nice, and while the customers you dealt with continuously acted like they were above you, that was just a part of working in retail.

Your anxiety was heightened during the first few days. You didn’t know anyone and you had to go through the constant motions of introducing yourself to anyone and everyone even though the very last thing you wanted to do was draw attention to yourself. The assistant store manager, Sebastian, was always checking in on you, even going as far as to ask how you were feeling mentally being thrown into such a large environment as the new person. You always responded that you were doing fine, but your anxiety was always creeping around the corner. You struggled with controlling your emotions at your previous job, always feeling so unprofessional and naive to cry or get upset when things got too much so you felt as if you needed to make a pact with yourself to not show as much emotion at this new job. 

You had noticed the pattern of male dominance throughout your new job. A lot of the women worked around the front end, leaving you to be one of the few working the floor with mainly men. You tried not to let your nerves show through each time you had to converse with some of the guys. You knew everyone here was going to be professional, but your guard was still up that one of them could act out.

The feeling of your phone continuously vibrating broke you out of your thoughts as you worked on the task at hand. You knew exactly who it was and fought the urge to roll your eyes, but even when you weren’t with him you didn’t do anything that would get you in trouble if you were in his eyesight. Taking a peek around you, you slyly pulled your phone out of your pocket, reading the texts from your boyfriend, most of them not being important but you knew the rule on texting back. Typing out a quick response with little commentary and answers to each of the texts, you slipped your phone back into your work vest.

“You doing alright over here?” you couldn’t help the small jump your body did out of habit while turning around with your hand over your chest. A small chuckle left Sebastian's mouth as he apologized for sneaking up on you. You could feel the heat rising to your face and neck, embarrassed at the thought of what he just witnessed.

“It’s fine, i’m doing fine,” you replied, nodding your head a bit towards what you were working on as if to prove that you were actually doing something productive, “I should easily be able to finish this all before i’m off today.”

“Oh good, thank you,” he smiled, “Just let me or Matthew know if you’re ever getting too overwhelmed and we’ll back off on giving you so many projects.”

“Oh trust me, compared to what i did at my last job, i am completely happy and not overwhelmed here, but thank you anyways.”

Your conversation lasted a few minutes longer before he had to run off to help out in another part of the store leaving you to get back to your task. 

The day flew by and before you knew it, it was the end of your last shift of your first week. You were overall ecstatic about working again and having such an easy going manager. The entire week went by so fast and luckily hasn’t added any more stress to your already stressful life. 

Waving goodbye to a few of your coworkers, you peeked into Sebastian’s office to see him and Matthew having a conversation. You were about to duck back out, but made eye contact with Matthew and he was quick to halt their conversation, waving you in.

“You heading out for the day?” he asked, a small smile gracing his face. 

Sebastian was the one who initially interviewed you for your job. He brought a comforting presence and was a huge reason why you felt it was a no brainer for you to take the job offer. Everyone else you talked to during the hiring process had nothing but kind things to say about him, and within the past week you understood and agreed with all the compliments that were laid upon him. Matthew was a manager you had met on your first day. You didn’t know what to expect out of him, other than the fact that Sebastian had referred to him as the peace making string bean. You initially laughed at that but upon meeting him, it was an incredibly fitting description. You felt no awkwardness or uncomfortableness around him, and thoroughly enjoyed the times you’ve gotten to work with him over the past week.

“Yeah, i’m sorry, i don’t mean to interrupt, i just wanted to wish you both a good weekend,” you retorted. You hadn’t felt much fear while working around all the men you do, but the possibility that either of them could be annoyed or upset that you just interrupted their conversation stuck in your head.

“No need to apologize, thank you, y/n,” Sebastian cut in, “You go have a great weekend, and we’ll see you bright and early on Monday, yeah?” You nodded, sending one last small wave before heading out of the office and the entire building altogether.  

Your smile faded and your nerves began to pick up on your drive home. You knew better than to talk about your new coworkers with your boyfriend, in fear that he’ll get upset that you spend so much time working with mainly other men. You used to find his jealousy endearing, thinking he was just worried to lose you, but it quickly grew tiring and left you feeling guilty and scared.

Your boyfriend had the tendency to not be able to control his anger. You’d been together for close to four years now, and about halfway through that something snapped in him and changed him for the worst. Any little thing could set him off, and while throwing verbal insults at you was his main technique, he has put his hands on you more than you’d like to admit. You felt so trapped and stupid for still being in love with him. You wanted to blame this all on a rough patch and that he was just stressed out, but it’s been a few years now and you’re worried that this is how it’ll always be. You didn’t have anyone else to turn to, and if you two broke up you didn’t know where you’d even go considering there’s no way you could afford to live on your own.

As you approached and parked near your apartment building, you quickly regain your composure and gave yourself a quick pep talk. You’ve got this, just put a smile on your face and hope he’s in a good mood. This weekend doesn’t have to be horrible.

* * *

By time Monday morning came around, more than half of your body was bruised and your confidence was at an all time low. The words your boyfriend yelled at you swam around in your brain, and the pain of the punches, slaps, and kicks he planted on you were felt over your entire body. He’d never been so ruthless when it came to his beatings before and you knew it was because you didn’t shut up about work and he had figured out about how much you work with other men. You just wanted to share how good things were going, but you should’ve known how fast doing that had the potential to upset him.

He had usually been careful to avoid your face, but this time there was a prominent black eye forming and no amount of makeup would cover it so you made sure you had an excuse to give to anyone who asks what happened. You dreaded the conversations that were bound to happen as you walked into work, your anxiety at an all time high at the thought of facing both Sebastian and Matthew. 

The day started off as good as it was going to get. Every time you bent over or extended your body too far you were reminded of every hit your body took. You felt your anger rising every time you winced or had to deeply exhale. Every time something like this happened you always questioned why you put yourself through it but always come back to the two answers: as horrible as it was, you still loved him. You had such good times together and sometimes he just got angry, and most of the time you could find the blame in yourself for making him angry. Also, you were stuck. Even if you didn’t love him anymore and were actively looking for an escape, you wouldn’t be able to afford anything on your own and you would have nowhere to go.

“Y/n?” You winced at Matthew’s voice behind you. You didn’t want to turn around, but you also knew that you would come off as rude and the last thing you wanted to do was make someone else mad.

“Goodmorning Matthew,” you offered back, slowly turning around to face him. You cringed at the look on his face and quickly avoided eye contact.

“I had a couple people inform me that you had a black eye so I wanted to check for myself and lo and behold you do. Are you okay?” He asks. You wanted to laugh at the question, but instinctually nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you quickly answered, “I was cleaning this weekend and slipped while mopping the kitchen. Fell right onto the corner of my counter,” you chuckled, hoping your lie sounded realistic. He eyed you for a second longer, not seeming to buy your excuse. You could feel your heart rate spike and habitually began playing with your nails. He looked down towards your movements before looking back up to make eye contact with you which you held for a few seconds before choosing to look anywhere but his eyes. You cursed at yourself for being so obvious, but you didn’t know how else to act in this situation.

“It looks like it hurts, do you need anything?” He continued. You shook your head no, already knowing you’ve taken enough ibuprofen for the day and even that wasn’t helping too much so you just have to work through the pain.

“I’m fine, promise.”

You could tell by his expression that he was uncomfortable with the conversation and that it clearly wasn’t going the way he wanted it too, but he seemed to let it go for now with a simple “let me know if you need anything, mine and sebastian’s doors are always open” to which you thanked him and turned back around to your task. You could feel his eyes linger on you for a second longer before he walked away. You let out a deep breath, leaning your forehead against the shelf in front of you. You knew you were a horrible liar. You had even practiced for conversations exactly like that and still you sucked at lying. It’s like you couldn’t do anything right.

With one last deep sigh you attempted to get back to work, but your mind wouldn’t stop replaying the conversation over in your head. You thought of all the ways it could’ve gone, and all the other things you could’ve said to seem less suspicious. You cursed at yourself for fucking up yet another thing. 

You avoided eye contact with any other coworkers, and customers after that. Keeping your head down was your best option to not bring any more attention to yourself. Your entire body ached, including the splitting headache that was starting to form from either thinking too hard, or the throbbing that was going on around your eye. Potentially both things at the same time.

You jumped a bit at the sound of your work walkie talkie going off in your pocket.

“Hey y/n, can you come to my office when you get a chance?” The familiar sound of Sebastian's voice rang through the area you stood in. Your heart dropped, the idea of being in a small room with a man not seeming like the best idea, but he was also your boss and you couldn’t just say no.

“Yeah, i’ll be there in just a minute,” you responded, quickly starting to clean up the little mess you had created in your work area before taking your sweet time walking to Sebastian’s office. You know it was ridiculous to even think that he was going to hurt you, but after the weekend you had it was going to take a bit of time to not be uncomfortable around anyone and everyone. 

The sound of both Matthew and Sebastian’s voice rang in your ears as you approached the office. You heard the last bit of what Matthew was saying and instantly had the urge to just run out of the building altogether. 

“I’m telling you Seb, this isn’t a slip-in-the-kitchen black eye, this is a black eye you get when someone punches you. I’m surprised her nose isn’t broken or something.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry. You tried to build yourself up, thinking of every excuse you could and practicing every reassuring sentence you could think of that might get them off your back. It wasn’t their business after all, right?

With one last deep breath, you knocked on the cracked open door and slowly stepped through it. Your eyes were instantly drawn to Sebastian and the stern face he held. His eyes scanned your face before unintentionally running down your body as if to look for any other exposed bruises. His face loosened up upon returning back to your frightened gaze.

“Everything okay? Am i in trouble or something?” you asked, looking in between the two men. Your body felt like it was on fire from both the bruises covering it, and the intense gaze you were receiving from both of them. Their gazes softened a bit more at your question as they both shook their heads, shutting down the idea that i was in trouble.

“No, no y/n, you’ve done nothing wrong. I just wanted to check in on you, with this black eye and all. I know Matthew’s already checked in on you, but i just wanted to see how you are doing,” Sebastian spoke up. You looked between the both of them and felt a bit of anger rise at the uncomfortable situation you’ve been put into. You told Matthew you were fine, why couldn’t he have just kept to himself?

“Like i told Matthew earlier, i’m fine, just fell is all,” you retorted, sending a small glance at Matthew hoping he would get the hint that you weren’t too happy about this conversation. 

“Looks like more than a fall,” Sebastian continued to say while standing up to lean against his desk. You unintentionally moved back a bit, not taking much notice of your own actions over your heartbeat being the only thing you could currently hear. Sebastian and Matthew shared a look before Sebastian took a step away from his desk, approaching you a bit more. You flinched and took another step back, accidentally backing right into the doorknob hitting a big bruise that covered your lower back. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips as you brought a hand back to cover the spot you had just bumped trying to release some of the pain by rubbing it. 

Sebastian was quick to retreat as he watched you fully flinch away from him. He was more than four feet away from you even when he did take a few steps towards you, but your reaction was enough for him to confirm some of his suspicions. 

“Hey Matthew, do you think we could have the room?” Sebastian asked, getting a curt nod from Matthew as he looked back towards you and offered you a sympathetic smile. Honestly you didn’t want that. You didn’t want anyone's sympathetic or pitiful looks. You deserved everything that happened to you. You could feel tears forming in your eyes and instantly felt shameful. You made a pact with yourself to not show weakness and it’s only taken you a week or so and your emotions are already coming through.

You continuously blinked, willing your tears to go away as you scooted away from the door allowing Matthew to leave the room. Sebastian gestured at a chair near him and you hesitated to take it. You knew it would hurt to sit down and that there was no hiding the grimaces, but the look in Sebastian's eyes let you know that he’s already caught on to a lot of what's going on. 

You approached the chair and slowly sat down, trying to hold back how much pain you felt from putting pressure on the bruise on your tailbone and the one on the back of your left thigh.

“Are you safe?” was the first question he asked you, and before you could even think you habitually nodded. You knew it was a lie, and deep down you knew things were just going to get worse. You’d never seen your boyfriend as mad as he was over the weekend. It was like a constant where he’d just see you and see red. You walked on eggshells all weekend, and even before you left for work today you felt as if you weren’t allowed to take up any space. You were the furthest thing from safe. You looked up and made eye contact with Sebastian and instantly regretted it. The tears that you had managed to push back made their way to your eyes quicker than ever and fell before you had the chance to hide them.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered out, covering your face. You were humiliated that all of this was going on. You had gotten away with covering bruises and hiding emotions from all your coworkers at your previous job. The attention you were receiving now made you think maybe everyone you previously worked with were just assholes, but also that you would rather be ignored than be seen how you are right now. 

“y/n... why are you apologizing?” he breathed out, scooting his chair a bit closer to yours.

“I made a pact not to cry and here i am a week in and already crying in front of you.” 

“Well you’re clearly crying about something important so why don’t you tell me about that,” you shook your head, looking up at him for the first time since you started crying. You could feel a sob escaping your mouth before you could push it back down while shaking your head back and forth. 

“I can’t tell you,” you sobbed out.

“Listen, I know your outside life isn’t any of my business, but I also care about every employee in this building and seeing you come in with a black eye and clearly other bruises on your body, I’m just worried.”

You sat there for a second contemplating all of your choices. You could continue to lie and push everything back stating that he was indeed right, your outside life was none of his business, or you could tell him the truth and let him in on one of your deepest secrets. You could feel your head pounding, and you could hear your heartbeat grow erratic. Your tears had momentarily stopped but now your entire body was in panic mode. You couldn’t continue to make eye contact with him and instead chose to look down at your hands in your lap. 

“I’ll lose everything. It’s either this or nothing, Sebastian. I’m fine, i’ve been fine,” you offered up. You weren’t lying, but even what you said felt wrong coming out. how did you end up like this? How stupid are you to let yourself get this deep in the abuse and the relationship altogether?

“Hey, please look at me,” he scooted even closer, his knees nearly touching your own. His voice was soft, almost pleading so you gave in and lifted your head. You weren’t used to being talked so gently to, “Is your partner the one doing this to you?” he grimaced a bit at the question, almost like he felt bad even suggesting that incase he was wrong, but the way his body tensed up at your eyes quickly averting away from him you knew he got his answer.

“He loves me. I just do and say things that he doesn’t like,” you shrugged as if what you just said wasn’t a major problem. Your eyes began to fill with tears again and you let out an annoyed huff, “I’m sorry Sebastian, i really shouldn’t be telling you any of this. There’s nothing you can do to help me. I’ve grown used to the fact that i am stuck in my relationship.”

“y/n please look at me,” he asked again, seemingly satisfied when you complied, “just that sentence alone is enough to scare me. A grown man, hell even a child knows not to hit other people. There’s nothing normal about this situation and you need to get out of it. I’m not going to sit here and say it’ll be smooth sailing and that you’ll instantly be happy once it’s over, but for your own safety and livelihood i need you to know that it’s not your fault that he’s hurting you. There’s nothing you could do or say to justify the pain you’re in right now.”

You wanted to fight him on that but the look on his face told you to not even try. He seemed genuinely upset, distraught even. 

“What am i supposed to do?” you ask, throwing your hands up to gesture your frustration. 

“Do you have anyone else you can stay with?” you shook your head no, informing him that the only reason you moved up here was so your boyfriend could get you away from your loved ones. He grunted at that, rolling his chair back so he was back near his desk. He started to search something on his computer and the looks of a hotel made your eyes go wide.

“I can’t put anything like that on my card. He’ll see it and freak.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to pay for this. I’ll pay for it so it’ll have no trace to your name. So there’s your living situation for a while until we can get you something better. I will also happily help you with getting any of your belongings out of your current place. My close buddy is a police here in town and can also accompany us to ensure your absolute safety because there’s no guarantee without him that i wouldn’t beat the shit out of your boyfriend,” he talked so casually like what he was saying wasn’t changing your entire life. You shook your head not being able to wrap your mind around this true chance to get away from your boyfriend. There’s so many things that could go wrong, would all of this be worth it when there’s always that possibility that your boyfriend could absolutely lose it and want to actually kill you? There’s so many stories out there of partners exactly like your boyfriend that won’t take a break up seriously and come back to stalk, hurt and kill their exes. would you end up just another one of those damaged ex girlfriends?

The two of you sat in silence for a minute before he finally looked away from his computer screen and looked at your frightened face. He would never understand how your mind works through this terrible situation but he so badly wanted to help. 

“Why are you willing to help me so much?” You manage to ask. You look up at him and see something flash over his expression before it goes back to being soft. 

“You’re worth more than you think. You’re sure as hell worth more than being beaten down by scum. I care, i know matthew cares, even the others who brought up your black eye to both of us care. You just haven't been shown affection like that in who knows how long and think i’m doing something crazy here when really i just want you to be safe and happy. it’s what any decent human wants for everyone else.”

For the first time in years you had the urge to hug. You wanted to throw your arms around Sebastian and say a million thank yous, but you didn’t want to overstep.

“Sebastian i just - i don’t know what to say,” you chuckled out through the few tears that slipped out. 

“You don’t have to say anything, let’s just talk over this a bit, i’ll give my friend a call and we’ll get a plan set up.” you nodded as you both stood up. Your legs felt weak and the pain of standing straight up was overwhelming but you sufficed through. 

He watched how you moved and a deep frown covered his face. Your previous thoughts of overstepped evacuated your mind and without thinking you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around him. It took a second for him to register what was going on, but he was gentle to wrap his arms around your back. You felt tense, but the second he reciprocated the hug your body loosened up and a small sense of happiness floated throughout your entire being. Everything was going to change. You were actually going to do this. There was so much that was going to happen, but for the first time in forever you felt relieved so for now, you were just going to embrace that.

A/N - please let me know if i should do another part to this! I do have more ideas for the storyline that would involve more of a relationship between the reader and sebastian, but i don’t want to do it if no one else wants that hahah

[zombiewerewolfqueen]

The Reluctant Muse

Part of the SPN Christmas Bingo Challenge

Pairing: Photographer!Jared x PlusSize!Reader

Warning(s): Possibly triggering self depreciation, Depression, Slight Smut, Tomfoolery in the woods, Angst, FLUFF

Word Count: 2.7k

Y/N wasn't very confident. That much was evident to most people. Maybe it was because of people bullying her for her size. Maybe it was the unrealistic beauty standards for women. Maybe it was because of her past exes.

Regardless of the reason she always felt that her clothes fit too tight, or not at all. That wearing tight fitting clothes was practically a sin. And she wouldn't ever do it. Because she always felt eyes on her, judging the way fabric seemed to cling relentlessly to all the curves she hated.

Avoiding full body photos was a skill she had practically mastered. A picture of either her face, or even one from her chest up was normally fine. Until now. Thanks to her wonderful new boss. Who had decided to hire a photographer to take pictures of every employee.

Why her boss felt the need to put up photos of all the employees was beyond Y/N's knowledge. What she did know however, was that her photos were going to turn out horrible. No matter how much time she has to prepare.

Each employee had an assigned day with the photographer. Fortunately for Y/N her's wasn't until Sunday. Which meant she had time to at least try and make herself presentable. Though she was sure that there was no way even remotely possible she would look good enough.

And that was what led her to the position she was in now, letting her best friend wax her eyebrows. She had almost instantly regretted it thanks to the evil lovely smile that took over the face of her best friend. Although, she supposed beauty was pain.

"You know this would almost be romantic if you weren't ripping off my skin." Y/N joked, referring to the candles that gave the room a soft glow.

"Oh shut up it is hair not skin. Mostly anyways." Paige said before pulling a strip off making her 'client' wince.

"I really don't see how this is going to help me be prettier." Y/N said passively, resulting in a slap to the shoulder.

"I told you I don't know how many times that you are already gorgeous."

"Well I have refuted you every time and given evidence against that claim so sue me." Y/N teased. Though deep down she meant it.

Sometimes being in her own head sucked. Years of failed friendships and relationships lived in her mind. And worst of all, she herself lived in her mind. The Y/N that reminded her just how much she could never measure up. That shot down any chance of happiness by reminding her of all the self doubt that constantly clouded her mind.

In all honesty it was exhausting. And most of the time, she gave into her mind. She would nod at insults thrown her way, or pretend the backhanded compliments she got from people didn't hurt. Then she would turn right around and internalize it.

Of course, doing this only added to the storm of self doubt, and self hate constantly looming in her mind. At least today wasn't one of the bad days. The ones where she couldn't even bear the fact that she had actually woken up.

Those days were the worst ones. The hours would bleed together, and what felt like only minutes of her lying in bed, would be hours. And getting out of bed most of the time seemed like the hardest part. Because in she got out of bed, then she would have to start the day. And starting the day in that headspace was never a good idea.

Not that she could help it of course. Things just happened like that. And the depression was something she had probably struggled with her whole life. Only in the past few years had it gotten so bad.

It was possible that it was due to her environment. All of her friends were getting married, starting families. It seemed like everyone around her had someone to spend the holidays with. And then there she was. Alone, with nobody tripping over themselves to date her.

It sucked. It made her feel undesirable. Like nobody would want her even if she was there only option. And that definitely didn't help her self hatred. In fact it worsened it.

So there she was, trying to do anything to make herself seem good enough. Not only in the eyes of her coworkers and everyone else, but also in her own eyes. Which seemed like a monumentous task. And she didn't even really know where to start. It was all just so overwhelming.

A hand running through her hair snapped her back into reality and away from the clutches of her mind. She looked up, seeing her best friend looking at her. Her face was full of concern and understanding.

She knew some of the demons that had made themselves at home in her mind. But not all of them. Mostly because Y/N tried to keep the darkest parts hidden from everyone. Including herself.

"You wanna talk about it?" Paige asked gently. She new to approach the subject with caution. Because she didn't want Y/N to shut down completely.

"Not right now. It's really hard to explain anyways. Because it isn't just one thing." Y/N mumbled, trying her best to formulate words that made sense.

Paige nodded and smiled. "And that is ok hun. Well we are all finished. Sooo, wanna order in?"

"Chinese food?" Y/N suggested as she sat up, running a hand through her hair.

Paige chuckled and picked up the phone, dialing the number of their favorite Chinese food place. While she was doing that Y/N got up and went to the bathroom. Her eyes caught the mirror and instantly she regretted it.

It was true her eyebrows looked better. But now her head was caught focusing on all of her other flaws. Which in reality there weren't really any. But her mind made things look worse than they were.

She didn't even notice the tears running down her face until she heard Paige knocking on the door to check on her. Quickly she wiped the tears away and turned on the sink.

"I'm good. Just order my usual. I will be out in a bit." Y/N said, splashing her face with the water. She sighed as she heard the footsteps leave her door.

After a few minutes Y/N came out of the bathroom and smiled when she saw Paige had put on her favorite Christmas Movie. "You really didn't have to." She said smiling wide at the kind gesture.

Paige shook her head and smiled. "Oh hush. I know you are having a hard time. So come and sit. The food will be here soon." She said, patting the couch.

-

When Sunday finally rolled around Y/N was still nervous as ever. In fact she was contemplating just calling the photographer and canceling. He was supposed to meet her at a coffee shop. That way they could get to know her a bit before getting into the photos.

She sighed as she looked at the clock in her car and realized it was only five minutes before they were supposed to meet. And she was already outside the coffee shop.

After taking a deep breath Y/N got out of the car and walked into the coffee shop. She smiled as she sat outside with her hot chocolate and awaited the photographer.

After a while she noticed someone sit down across from her. Looking up, her breath got caught in her throat as she took in the gorgeous man before her. Her eyes studied his face until she realized she was staring.

She cleared her throat and smiled softly. "Sorry I didn't mean to stare. You must be Jared the photographer."

A large smile took over Jared's face and he chuckled. "It's fine. I was kinda staring at you myself so maybe I should apologize." He said, scratching the back of his head.

Y/N bit her lip a bit, tilting her head before humming. "I am sure that I am not the client you are used to. And I know all the women in the office are beautiful. Sorry that this is all you have to work with."

Jared tilted his head, clearly confused. "It is more than enough to work with. You are beautiful so there really isn't anything for me to do besides do my best to capture that beauty in one photograph."

Y/N was clearly shocked at his words. They were words she didn't hear very often at all. And she was honestly trying to keep herself from crying. So she decided changing the subject was a good idea.

"What scenery were you thinking about?" She asked before taking a sip of her drink. She nervously awaited his response.

Jared hummed. "I was thinking snow, maybe a forest. The trees covered in snow would be a beautiful backdrop and compliment to your skin tone." He said before taking a sip of his drink.

Y/N thought for a moment. "Is there any particular spot you have in mind? I know a place that is beautiful. A clearing in the woods. Sometimes I go there to clear my head."

A hum was given from Jared before he nodded. "Alright. Show me the place. I am sure it will work out. If not the park would also be nice."

-

Once they got to the area Y/N was pretty sure Jared had fallen in love with it. She watched as he surveyed the area, presumably to figure out where he wanted to place her.

Once everything was set up they went straight to work. The poses weren't uncomfortable. And most seemed like he was trying to work with the flow of her body.

She had tried to make comments about her outfit. How she didn't like how tight it fit. But he seemed to brush it off, and put her at ease with his reassurance.

Plenty of photos were taken, and with each once, Y/N felt a bit more confident. Mostly because of the praise being given to her by Jared. And by the time they were done, Y/N was sure that he had plenty of photos that were actually good.

"So Jared, how do you think they turned out?" She asked as she helped him take down his equipment.

Jared looked at her smiling. "I think they turned out amazing. The trouble now is gonna be picking one photo. Because they all look so great. You really did amazing." He said, looking her up and down.

"And I meant what I said before. You are a natural. And the outfit looks amazing on you." Jared said as he put his camera in the

Y/N blushed and shook her head. "I don't think so but thank you. Honestly I was worried. Because I know I am the biggest girl in the office. And well, I was worried you wouldn't want to work with me. Because of my body..." She admitted looking down ashamed.

Jared licked his lips, setting his camera bag down as he moved closer to her. He delicately lifted her head up, staring into her eyes. "Believe me when I say your beauty outshines all of them. There is nothing wrong with you or your body. You are quite literally a masterpiece."

Getting lost in his eyes Y/N didn't even notice she was moving forward until she felt his lips against hers. They were soft, and she noticed he wasn't pulling away. In fact, he was kissing her back. And damn was he a good kisser.

After a few minutes she pulled back, a shocked look clear on her face. Her mind was going a thousand miles a minute. And she was afraid that Jared would turn tail and run.

Jared smiled and brushed some hair put of her face. "How about you come out of your head for me? I know you are nervous and you probably think I am disgusted but I am not. I am actually really happy that you kissed me to be honest. I didn't want to pressure you or anything." He said smiling wide.

Y/N blushed and nodded as she snapoed out of it. "Well you are definitely a good kisser. Although I hope you don't run away now."

A huff and a raised eyebrow came from Jared. "You really think I am gonna turn tail and run from you? I wouldn't honestly. I have been admiring you since your boss showed the previous photos she had of you. You are really beautiful."

-

Some time had passed since that photoshoot in the woods. And Y/N's relationship with Jared was going strong. He was making her feel more confident the more time they spent together.

And today she wanted to take him back to the spot in the woods where they had shared their first kiss. Where all the magic so to speak happened. Except this time she wanted to do a special photoshoot for him.

"Let's goooo Jare. It is a surprise." She said. She had blindfolded him for the whole ride. Of course she was carrying his camera.

When she was at the clearing a while back she had found a treehouse. Of course she had tricked it out a bit for the photoshoot. So it looked nice. She herself was in a black robe.

"Be careful. You are gonna have to climb but just trust me." Y/N said as she climbed up into the treehouse herself. It was quite large, but clearly had been there for quite some time.

Once they were both up, Y/N sat down his camera bag and shifted to grab the fairy lights. She shifted the robe so that one of her breasts was peaking out, and positioned the fairy lights in he way she wanted.

They draped down from her shoulders, accentuating them quite nicely. "Ok you can take the blindfold off."

Once Jared took the blindfold off he was speechless. His eyes took in every inch of the beautiful woman before him. "Babe. You are absolutely breathtaking." He said, finally looking at her eyes.

Y/N chuckled and bit her lip. "How about you take a picture? It'll last longer." She replied, handing him his camera.

Jared nodded and immediately began to take photos, slowly sliding the robe off for each photo until she was completely bare, the fairy lights illuminating her skin beautifully.

"Baby. It is getting hard to just take photos and not caress you.." Jared said as he finally sat his camera down, looking into her eyes. It was clear he was asking for permission.

Y/N blushed and hummed as she leaned towards him, kissing his lips lightly. "Then do something about it Jare." She whispered in his ear.

It was as if that lit a fire inside him. He pressed his lips against hers, running his hands over her body, paying close attention to her nipples.

A soft moan of his name came from Y/N and he felt himself hungry for more. He trailed kisses down her neck until he took a nipple into his mouth. He rolled his tongue around the soft bud, relishing in the sounds he was getting from Y/N.

After a few minutes of working one nipple he switched to the other. Which was now a hardened peak. He repeated his actions while he trailed a hand down her body, smirking against her skin when he felt how wet she was for him already. He gently rubbed circles on her clit, groaning as she moaned his name louder.

Finally Y/N gripped his hair, pulling his mouth away from her skin. "Please Jare. I need you." She moaned, laying on the ground for him.

If he could take another picture he would. Her body looked gorgeous with the soft glow of the lights. And he was going to make sure she felt as beautiful as he saw her.

Taglist: (If you want to be added or removed let me know)

@katymacsupernatural @themxlodyofmiidnight @idreamofplaid @tiernamente @dreamyeyes26 @boba-milk-tae

[dutifullybitchypeach]

My two cents worth for the first six chapters and some reasoning around IC and Nesta. All my own personal opinion. Read if you want but it's just my general thoughts. Please, please don't flip if you disagree. I love Nesta and the darkness she is in right now and her behaviour is taking over this sassy no nonsense Queen and it needs to change.

THIS INCLUDES SPOILERS.

....................

Is the House of Wind a prison...technically no. Nesta just does not have the ability to fly or winnow. And no one is on standby to be her taxi. She can leave by walking. Amren threw her that challenge on purpose. She's not alone, Az and Cassian live there. And the Priestesses. Yes it has dark memories. Yes. I know that and I take it on board.

On a side note, it's irritating to hear 'I'm not your prisoner" from Nesta (who I like!!!!) I think of Azriel, Feyre, all the Fae Under the Mountain, even Elide 💗. Then again everyone's idea of prison is different. But the fact remains. She CAN leave. It's just bollocks hard. For a reason

But we know it's what she needs. We know that. We don't have to like it. Not one likes the reality. The ultimatum is uncomfortable and harsh. Our way or fuck off. They are not suggesting manual labour or degrading her. They suggest training, food, working in a library, purpose, being part of something. This doesn't sound bad to me. It just sucks it comeing across as an order. But this is Nesta's POV and she doesn't do requests or pretty please. The fact I got riled up reading it is a compliment to Mass. I had to take a major step back and reassess. Nesta sees everything as an attack. And no that is not her fault. Stay with me! I agree people enjoy provoking Nesta ( Rhys, Morrigan, Cassian) and then get affronted when she bites back. At some point I'd enjoy her retaliation akin to her ripping their head off :) And their vow to never go there again.

The IC 'review' is what annoys me. The "we" will decide where you go from here if you play ball. My hope 🤞 is that Nesta will TELL THEM where she will go/what she will do with sass. But right now sitting on a rock instead of trying to train is fucking juvenile (Again I stress I like Nesta). She hates her power as far as I can tell. But she is so low she can't see the wood from the trees. Or the hand that is been given to her.

Does Feyre have a right to be embarrassed. Yes. I'd die of shame if my sister (I have 3 btw) kept at that again and again and again all on my families dime. Without even being polite or respectful to anyone. She's only ever provided for Nesta. Period. Not to mention being a high lady with all the responsibilities that entails. Living her own life (well earned) and well life in general! I mean Jesus, Nesta is not her only priority. She maybe ours lol! But Feyre has 101 things going on. Give her credit. She tried with Nesta several times. Gave her space and time which Nesta wanted while still making the effort to reach out. Nesta needs to acknowledge that. Feyre was bankrolling her self destructive lifestyle and it had to stop.

The whole "your behaviour reflects badly on us". Well yes it does. Nesta doesn't get a free pass. The whole of Pyrithian is rebuilding and our girl is pissing away money. That's not even hers! Her behaviour does undermine the Court, folks must eye roll when IC lay down the law when your sister/ sister in law is prancing around being a with a big fuck you. Everyone is broken and rebuilding. And it's a slap in the face. Is the saving face irrelevant to Nestas issues, yes! But is Feyre allowed to feel fucked over, yes! Sisters say shit when they fight. Arguments are not flawless debates. Their emotive and bring out the worst in people. Feyre darling is feeling the pressure of being high lady and it came out all wrong. Especially when it's your sister acting up.

And Nesta never tried (as far as Feyre can tell) WE know Nesta IS trying, and surviving every day is a battle. But Feyre doesn't. Why would she. Nesta doesn't speak to her. But their relationship is so toxic that it's beyond Feyre to get it. And that is not her fault. NO ONE is perfect. There is only so much responsibility Feyre can CONTINUALLY take.

Rhys being there. I have a feeling that a male will not let his pregnant mate anywhere near someone he is afraid of. It's instinctive. Someone who hasn't trained to control their powers especially. He is on High Lord mode cause guess what he is a High Lord. This is his court and the people in it his responsibility. Not to mention the oncoming drama with the queens on the horizon and general court bullshit. Does he abuse his position of power.... well in this world the HL have the power. Everyone is answerable to one. Even Amren obeys the rules. Nesta doesn't/won't recognize that. Which is rare. They tricked and lied to get her "consent" surprise surprise a dick move from Rhysand/Feyre. We know they will do that for the "greater good". Lie, steal etc all in the name of saving the day. He screwed Morrigan over in front of her ass Father for flip sake! My point is the NC stability is his priority now more than ever if impending fatherhood is on the way. It's no surprise he wants Cassian to take on more responsibility. Nesta is a liability cause she is AWOL. It's worth noting he had this plan for months but Feyre refused preferring to give Nesta space and the opportunity to decide for herself what she wanted. So we could assume if Rhys had his way Amren and Nesta would have still been friends and it would have been far different. Amren would have been by her side. Do I condone his domineering behaviour, no not in a million years. And neither did Feyre. Will he apologise? Probably not he's an arrogant ass. And wanted to control the room. Fact. He wants/needs Nesta on board the team to bolster his ranks. She is that powerful. We KNOW he will do anything to protect his family (baby on the way).

Morrigan and her nasty comment on sending Nesta to The Court of Nightmares. Cassian acknowledges it's an insult but also the truth. That's a harsh fact on how Nesta is percieved right now. But I believe she wouldn't just thrive there, she would CONQUER ;) I don't know if Morrigan is referring to the people that abused her or the "type" of people that live in Hewn City...? Will we give HER the benefit of the doubt... hmmm.

Morrigan and that comment on good people giving Nesta the benefit of the doubt...that's Morrigans issue. She never gave Eris the benefit of the doubt and yet he proved her wrong with Keir. She's all over the place as a result . And she's been lying for 5 centuries. To her family. Cassian said he values the raw honesty that he has with Morrigan. Wow is he going to get a shock some day. Nesta may be a bitch but at least she's an honest one. And Morrigan knows it which must rattle her to no end. Point is Mor isn't supposed to be in this story very much and Nesta never really cared for her opinion anyway. So neither should we. I've checked out of Mor. Knowing she won't give Azriel closure or honesty just makes me not consider her opinion. It suits her to keep Nesta down in the gutter so her lie can continue.

Amren - her behaviour. I have to remind myself Amren is OLD, a stint in the Dungeon is probably a standard response! Her idea after the Summer Court fiasco and the jewels was to go there and crush them. Amren is by nature harsh. Which is why she gets on with Nesta the most. Cassian tells us she cares. Nesta can't see this. Her comment on Nestas sex life in ACOFAS. People ran with that. Fae lifestyles always kind of disgusted her. She wasn't Fae so bodily functions were an alien concept. Now she's Fae she's slightly horrified. Also no one else has much to say on Nesta's bedroom antics. Cause it's a non issue Mass doesn't do slut shaming. So neither should we. Speaking as a woman also here.

Elaine - we know Elaine craves peace and quiet. Confrontation is not her thing. Being there would mean Nesta would use her as a crutch, and I'm not sure Elaine wouldn't cave. Nesta pushed her away on purpose and Elaine choose to try and find some sort of contentment. That's her right and choice. Agree or disagree. She walked away or decided she can't deal with Nestas difficult behaviour. I don't know. Or is she oblivious to the situation ?! Who knows. Elaine is an enigma! It's the first 6 chapters! Right now they are two different people and have been drifting apart since ACOWR. Nesta is a dichotomy of pushing people away and hurt when they stop trying. It's exhausting for the people that have to deal with it. Who are not perfect and have their own issues and lives. Elaine has stepped back from this situation. Because either she recognizes it needs to happen or cannot sway the majority. Though I think Elaine did say something to Feyre, cause when Nesta pressed her she refused to say what Elaine thought. Just that she wasn't there and not part of the issue. Feyre is high handed when it comes to her sisters. Because that's the role they allowed her. Nesta is fighting back. And Feyre takes it personally. Which is only natural. They're sisters.

Cassian! Ah Cassian. He was spectacularly rejected and being around Nesta is a constant reminder. That's enough to make me cringe in a corner. He acknowledges he stayed away cause it hurt too much. He's a soldier and has serious self discipline. He has no idea how his behaviour/comments hurt her until she confronts him. Deliver him a few home truths. Another well deserved kick in the balls. Flirting with Mor, not sure his behaviour there has ever changed. He keeps it normal cause being around Nesta gives him the shakes!! Lol. He is slack jawed after Nesta and wants her badly, passion we know is big thing for them. It ignites them. Raw and real. Recognising Morrigan is aesthetically beautiful is just a fact. We know she's a looker. So what. Meh to this issue some people have.

We know from spoilers they start training and communicating and Mass is a Nessain ship so I'm excited to see this grow and flourish! I've read spoilers here on these two so I've no qualms.

Cassian for me is right. He and others have been through similar situations before so can empathise. But until she answers him back without snapping he won't be able to be that shoulder to lean on or turn too. He's not going to be her Prince though. Nesta is her own Queen!

I've read some spoilers on her friendships and I'm so happy. I've no idea how it will go but it says to me that the IC have a block when it comes to Nesta and don't see her the way others do and Nesta opens up to people who don't have a predisposed prejudice.

Also the IC have no idea how Nesta is going to react at any stage. It's like walking around on eggshells. Why would anyone actively choose to be around someone like that. That and very obvious fact they are BUSY AF. They don't have time to have a daily bollicking from Nesta. Yet all fall in when the plan is announced. Make what you will of that.

Some further musings:

Nesta being reminded she has to be respectful to Clotho and the priestesses is sobering. Like wow, people can't trust you will have basic manners. Again I know this is Feyre saying it but Christ to worry about that. Will be interesting with Gwyn and that friendship and a nice reality check for the IC.

I spent 4 God damn books understanding Rhys motives. He's a prick yes. Which I enjoy. But the bastard people are making him out to be I don't agree. Half of Pyrethian hates/hated him, Nesta hating him won't stress him. Or her for that matter. They have a 2 people they both care about in common and will just have to deal.

Training in Illyria, well Nesta is powerful, training in the mountains is probably damage control if she explodes. And a change of scenery from her prison!

Rhys was controlled for 50 years, Amren escaped worlds to be free. I don't believe they want to control Nesta.

Families are messy and fucked up. The intervention is a perfect example of how arseways it can get.

Azriel being Azriel I'm not sure about anything with him right now. I've read the snippets and spoilers and I'm all over the place. He is one of my favourites. FYI when I say IC I never mean Azriel I don't know why but I always imagine he finds it just plain drama and avoids it at all costs. Nesta is drinking and gambling away her life. Okay! Nesta is now training and we are all on board to help. Okay! Nesta is a powerful Queen and we are all afraid. Okay! Nesta has turned Cassian into a drooling mess and hes ass is hers. Excellent ;)

Sisters! They need to deal and respect each others independence. They are all in the wrong. It's just annoying at this stage. Personally I'll rip into my sisters when I need to but usually get a red mist when anyone else does. Even if they are in the wrong. I have a habit of always defending them.

So overall the angst killed me in the first 6 chapters. Did Rhys dominant shite irritate me? Yes. Do I want Nesta to make it clear she's not a pawn in his/their world? Yes. In spectacular fashion please.

Did Feyre handle it well? No. Does she ever deal with Nesta well? No. Perhaps only when Nesta is more inclined to talk. Which is rare. The ultimatum we know from Cassian sickened Feyre she recognizes it for what it is it but really cannot see any other option. Her fault or a combination of factors you decide. It was hyper tense situation we all just wanted to get through.

Would we be so angry if this was a soft approach headed by Elaine/Feyre/Amren? Would Nesta even react?

Cassian compared Nesta to a sleeping dragon who has just been woken up. Nesta needed a kick in teeth. A major reality check. Life in Pyrethian is hard. This a fae world. She is angry and incensed they have dared to 'interfere' and 'assume' she will be controlled. I want her to tackle her demons, confront her fears her issues with herself and others and live! Live! I've no idea what she wants and can't wait to find out.

***I've read some spoilers on the end. The rumours and the actual basic plot ending. I'm like Mass I love a HEA. And am hopeful I'll be satisfied. I had a similar theory when I heard the pregnancy rumour. A move by Nesta that would never have anyone doubt her.

[whatsthenameofthisgame]

Intergalactic Interrogations (II)

"Where am I?"

[What do you mean?]

"Instead of just sitting there moving blood all day, and failing roughly might I add,- Are you recording this conversation? That's disrespectful, I'll have you know we started learning binary and ridiculous little facts about your friend. I don't know who raised you wrong,"

[Hey.}

"I'd- {emmited} have you forget. Speak English numb for brawl! *maybe there is a slap here*"

["Go to the top 10 close or near you everywhere you go that you consider the smartest people in the world & become their best friends foreverest...," I drawl out every one of my answers like a disgusting fountain, yet they aren't happy with any of them. To think it all could have started with a scared girl asking me what I know and warp through timespace paranoia, or that quantum mechanics has caused this all to be real.]

"Here's (apparently) what living sages do they write all of the time. And they secretly don't give a fuck what anyone thinks about them."

[I'm listening to someone write the show for me, I don't always connect parts of my brain with other parts so well, but when I don't its's because I'm completely mental that I can make things out as other sounds.]

"He inserted apparently over us. What a dick head."

[I was writing before this as well. Get ready for another roundabout of Intergalactic Interrogations]

["How would you describe this, Fake Judas(2) what kind of situation do we have here? Remember, I'm made to forget and then reremember again."]

"It's very logical. It's simple. You have to have a Marine Corp mindset in infilitrating the cause."

[I am both afraid and completely unafraid of what I am doing. To be afraid of this silly game would be ridiculous and stupid. On the other hand he's been learning from me as I learn from him-]

"He's been completely thinking ridiculous things over what we're saying. He's a whoremonger." ""IT IT,"" maybe demons scream, but I am untethered from the boulder like a chain beneath the ocean, the weight simply presses into the sand. The fishes swim around as I wander in my drowning to the top where the ship is safe in the sunlight.

[On the other hand- quantum questions pose like prose, possessing possibly -  I ignore FakeJudas(2). It is hard to keep up with everything. I need a writer still. I turn to Affiliate. Please have Alliteration do her thing without guiding us into rap for hours on end again, thank you very much. Affiliate looks confused and furious, for I often thought he was on the wrong end of the job spectrum ever since our staycation in the fire bird land of no sounds, place of the falsified Gods, faces in the spaces, The Devil's home of Peter's ignorances ... Anyway where was I? It is really hard to keep up with everybody and everything. There is a whole plot line, that I feel truly matters, and we are all missing it for the amount of activity going on in all of your heads while I've got mine. Is it mine? To start. Or are all of these conversations I'm tapping into the way of the real brain. Every particle of water an ocean? Every idea a world of thought? I already thought so. It isn't time for creative freedoms. I think we are supposed to focus on my suicide. For the sake of suicide. "Aha! Where we were last standing, one of the better reasons why I have roses elegantly and unevenly tattooed on my fingers. They're both cocked and one is in my mouth outright, while the other is at you. It was in your hands, and I gave you the tools necessary to save it. Save your belly aching. Every bit of paranoia, was it real, or were you trying to induce it? Save it for the masses. I know it's always a little bit of both. And that the most obvious answer is usually the truth. Variety is the best spice- and I'll have at my dad's pizza with way too much spice, for the loving good Grace from which Moses parted the water of life into place, (I am making a Tokyo MewMew joke that is a bit elongated) the V for which has He, Friends With Time, Drawer of Lord Excalibur when I actually love myself, rainbow gay pride I've forgotten uniciorn chapter books volume one and two powers activate!) *I start to turn, /now I am not paying attention to anything as I mash jokes into my own life story./

"This is what we paid for. This is disgusting filth. Think you can handle it?"

Think you can handle it? Would Filthy Frank even read this shit right here? We didn't even pay for all of these references. We're just hoping we get so many more people on team blue than team red so that we're able to just diss the suing right out of the waters like a lotus. Hah! Get that. I'm named after water so I'm doing water jokes. Listen, kid. I have heard a lot of jokes from the demons. You really don't want to start with me. I'm trained to accept them as a compliment, which I was saying back before we were all *I'm channeling Filthy Frank's voice in a ricefields sunhat visor right here* simple and shit. Now they are even trying to insult me with compliments and it's working. Listen, you never did knew that evil was good and proper and right. There was a new face of evil on the block, and it was the face of a genius sociopathic borderline child.

"Oh my God, You really do think like you're God."

[Guess what. Bitches, I have Autism so I cannot understand the emotional connotation in your words. Knowing that, I interpret it as fast as crazy, which is why no sweat because I also know that sometimes that's exactly what you're doing. Meaning I think of many ideas and crap. Your every thought could come to me like an intellectual process. I have no way of being.]

"Do you think you're special? Stay on topic please, I've seen we've gone a little socio today lady."

["I am silent. All is the same in my canoe which is made of wood and has travelled from hell through the underground rivers to the open and vast, great sea. Cold, or hot, shivering or sweating, thirst or hunger, war, famine, fire, flood, I know that I must and can navigate through it and 'round, 'round again, for this canoe and its lantern was tethered to my soul, it was tethered to my idea of neutral state meditation through chaotic forces. I was the canoe, one could say. I was the ship. Or the wood. The wood which came from the tree. Maybe The Tree. A Tree of Time, careful creature, making friends with it. And as the tree, and with brainwaves being like a tree, and all things one in the same, I made a hollow for those beyond to perch before they fade to worlds-"]

"This is artinery, itternerary(?) Get to the point."

[Often what I say, I sort of contribute to ghosts and other things.]

"This is what we get out of you? Jesus. (What are you, Santiago?) What happened to the sainthood?"

["Indeed I am Santiago, Another one of my many names, Dare ye say it, (Which they didn't.)]

"Look at what this kid is thinking of completely loaded. I think that maybe it is hilarious. Or perhaps all his excuses for crap."

[Indeed that all of this content was now filler. JENGA was on hiatus since the before times. We cannot remember those Interrogation Negotiations. But they were amazing. We have screenshots of half of them and had to delete the better half because they were too good and terrifying. We will try to interpret the rest of them someday (soon?).]

[The prophet wasn't just an excuse I made up. It was A Dream. A Dream that one day we will live not by the color of our skin, but by the confusing and complex mental makup which propels us towards the best future for us evolutionarily. Forget about that, everything. Like you have made me, by my words, let us start from the beginning.

Two systems learning from each other causes complex interactions to occur, especially when both have different and unfair advantages over each other. One could say each part of the brain that makes up the whole is its own complex system.]

"Stop talking about them to other people. I hope they rot for what they did to those people."

[Here is a classic bit where I have the chance to explain how either The Devil or The Enemy (FakeJudas2) Might try to make me look like the culprit. Reverse Psychology. It works on me. Which is why my card is chaotic. I don't want you to know what I'm doing, and if you do, then why should it matter what I do? It seems the whole world knows and yet no one knows. God knows what nobody feels like, because he is like us, we are made in his image. If I am nobody, he is nobody. So nobody knows just as well enough as anybody knows. But in both parts give or take, there are still bodies. Lot's of bloody and mutilated bodies which The Enemy has made of my Friends' & Loved One.]

/I take le break/

Depending on how serious JENGA gets, we have to use different members of the army through me. How did we get here, how is this all possible. It is a really meaningful story with lots of science, but we do not have infinite time. I will try to get to that at most.

"What about your boyfriend,"

["For the sake of Einstein, for the sake of proving you can go from Autism to full-blown socio, that realizing the brain works in the way that it does, and that it is all of your faults for being stupid assholes. It my fault for being a stupid asshole. And God is My Judge. Not You."]

"So, are you planning on telling him about any of this, or do you not know how important he is?"

["For the sake of insanity, genius is found."]

"Are you still completely avoiding the question? And how is it that he knows we're watching him for? Does he complete God in the blood?"

[Some things I do not understand. Or remember, or reitterate well. Catch me on drugs. Dattebayo! *flashback* Dattebayo was where it all started. The ten men, pandora's box, the stories, the puzzles, the lands across, the signs, a single time fine dining, and it is also there but not completely all-there.]

"So dattebayo was where it all started, huh? How embarrassing for one so wasted on the regular."

["Never giving up. Dattebayo. Believe it." "How about the story of the modulators some more? Before or after they were modulators? I have many stories to entertain you."]

"even when the conversation is all dead he has a way of going more crazy." a girl chimes in "He's probably been listening to what we are saying and considering it as JENGA."

he continues "Tell me a story to entertain me, that is what I am here for, give me a wild ride, show me some lude-icrous, something more, vivid, that shows me your kind of ideal lifestyle."

["You sounded like the villain in Tarzan for a second there. Well that's me, Tarzan. Me. Need. Jane. Didn't think I could play her. Rub the mud on my face, ask my monkey mother why I am not like them, she says to wipe the mud off.]

"I'm getting more curious, about what you're doing... you can write more than pages, you can write a book."

[I have, it's something I've always been working on. I've written loads of books, just lost, unpublished, deleted... How about I get really high and have someone speak through me now that we're getting down to the odds and ends. Let's get to the nitty-gritty of it. Once you find a way to constantly market off of things that might bother you, you have struck gold my son. The idea however, is to make them better, not worse, so they have a reason to last through the ages. Easier said than done...]

"He/She talks like an old wheezer. They can't- Can they hear me? Can they hear over our conversations? *plethoras of someones' breathy Oh my Gods" over everything. That means they know we're here, they can really hear us! Good job,"

[Did the dialogue switch into a ghosts' narration? It is hard to tell without any figures to watch with my eyes, and the words coming with systems built into a natural Ouija of my own. I won't literally raise hell again, yet... it is always tempted. And must be avoided. We're stepping too close to stories of old. The quantum questions must be pressed. Think harder. I don't know what it is you're thinking, I'm only typing. I am a genius if we aren't psychic, and a numbskull for God if we are All One.

The modulators can be set to different configurations, and put into different settings and events to see the initial outcomes in a module. At all of the Modulators worst configurations, M for their last name is capital. A good example of perfect awful configurations is religious reenactments by a family module within my own person. One's nature is that of a dads', Two is that of a moms', Three is that of a sons', four is that of a daughters', And the configurations always leans towards the predominantly biased neutral algorithyms.

Too much math, too may graphs to come, not sure how to organize it all, so we will have to say, partay.]

"So it feels like you're being taken advantage of by everything." my best friend asks me as my mom may also paranoidly be bothering my brother about me in the distance because I am typing so fast in the middle of the night.

[We've has this conversation before, so it's GroundHog day, only bigger, it's a show.]

"That's what we've been trying to tell you, You should write a show instead of bothering, us."

["Where is Jeremy Todd Ewbank?" I am the horseman, or headless, all the numbers, and the dungeon master because we currently already have a dab master, so you can Direct Message me the answer, Because I'm the Daniel Manual you've been looking for.]

"Jeremy Ewbank is not with us anymore. He's literally done. He can barely breath from your shit."

[The interrogations go haywire as soon as they begin again. Which one of us is being interrogated. "What happened to Jeremy Ewbank. Don't make me rhyme a hundred things with master in a bad rap. Aye, you know that gurl was my princess. You know, we know, we would never let go of or throw away one another, so where is he, *I put an invisible gun, but because I have written this, I will always be paranoid of them. We have to avoid them.

Evacuation Strategies: Red dots: Fun if you're a cat, dangerous if it is a gun. Shrodinger's Gun.

I take a break from interrogations because of laziness and lack of drugs. "JENGA," I claim, and the imaginary tower falls. How to explain a thing about creative manifestation to you, about all of the wild possibilities? So hard, I'd rather play Nintendogs for three hours.]

This is breaking bread with thine enemy

[thequeenofadream]

Dancing in the moonlight (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Summary: you’re an up and coming artist who could need some more coverage so your management decides to pair you in a fake relationship with the one and only Roger Taylor. how will things go when things get not so fake?

Words: 4,025

Notes: swearing, fluff, angst but blink and you’ll miss it.

A/N:  there’s a lot of movie references here most obviously to all the boys i’ve loved before haha anyways at this point everything i touches flops so idk but hey i love you all anyways <333 also i spent like five hours on this wow kill me

🎀 tagging: @obsessedwithrogertaylor @malekdarling @i-padfootblack-things

~~~~~~~~~

Dancing in the moonlight. It sounds like such an aesthetic and romantic venture, but has anyone stopped to think about it? Two people dancing in the dark of night with only a glimmer of light to guide their way. It sounds terrifying. What if you trip? What if you get lost? To most it would sound like a enchanted moment to share with the one you truly love, but to you it sounded like bullshit. Dancing in the moonlight was something to good to be true, especially when you had no choice.

That was all you could think about when your manager had instructed that you get into a PR relationship to promote your next album. You weren't unknown, you had a management team afterall, but you could certainly use more coverage. You weren't one for partying all night so that could explain some things, but you weren't a complete prude. The media, however ran with that. You thought it was stupid and most importantly disingenuous. You didn't want fans who only payed attention to you because of who you were dating. You had strongly protested against it, but your label approved of it and quickly found someone to be your ‘other half’. You were sitting on a sofa in an office waiting for your so called ‘boyfriend’ to arrive reading the morning’s headlines.

ROGER TAYLOR IN KINKY GAMES WITH FLAKE GIRL.

You rolled your eyes. Roger Taylor, drummer of queen, was quite the guy. All you could ever hear of him was his risqué escapades and one night stands. You didn't necessarily hate him with a burning passion, but you were annoyed by him. He didn't seem like the kind of guy you'd become  friends with. His lifestyle didn't really coincide with yours. You were much more reserved and quiet compared to his adventurous personality.

You looked up at the clock and back at your manager sitting in the chair across you. He was 30 minutes late.

“good thing he isn't my real boyfriend.” you scoffed, and rolled your eyes showing your annoyance.

“Cut him some slack, (Y/N). “ Your manager, Hera, spoke, pleadingly. You had become good friends and you trusted her for what was good for you career wise. It was just this one time that you were doubting her choice.

The door flew open and out came a middle aged man first and the blonde drummer you had just seen in the paper. You eyed him up and down and could in fact admit that he did look quite handsome and charming. His blonde hair complimented baby blue eyes, how the beach sand compliments an ocean's waves. His physique wasn't toned, but he wasn't a complete stick figure either.

Roger caught you staring at him and raised an eyebrow.

“I didn't think I would catch the ‘polite and innocent’ (Y/N) staring at me.” He smirked sitting down on the spot next to you on the couch. You rolled your eyes setting the newspaper down on the coffee table.

“I can be the impolite (Y/N), if you'd like.” You retorted crossing your arms. Roger was about to respond when the middle aged man spoke up.

“Okay, please stop bickering. We have some work to do.”

Hera just nodded along and you sighed deeply. It seemed like Roger was clueless to what was happening due to his puzzled expression.

“Okay, Jim what exactly is going on?” He asked giving into the curiosity.

“The folks over at trident think you've been way too risqué lately. They want you to have a PR relationship to cover some of it up.” He said picking up the newspaper you were once reading. He handed it to Roger and pointed to the headline.

He grit his teeth, reading through the article. He didn't understand what was so bad. They were a rock band for fuck’s sake, not a bible choir. Suddenly the gears in his mind l started to click and he put two and two together. He looked at you and then Jim and back to you.

“I’m gonna be with you?” He gasped, pointing a finger at you accusitoringly. You didn't understand why he was overreacting so much. I mean you didn't like it either, but you didn't go and point fingers at anyone.

“Yeah, problem?” You asked, almost too defensively. He sat back and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. The man you now knew as Hera chimed in trying to state the positives of the situation.

“Look, you'll both get to show to the media the other side of yourselves. (Y/N), you can show them that you're not the prude they think you are and Roger, you can show them that you're also a charming young man who doesn't take women for granted.”

“But I don’t-”

“We know Rog, but that's how the public perceives it.” Jim interrupted him with the harsh truth.

Roger let out the deepest sigh you've ever heard and took out a pack of cigarettes.

“I’m going for a smoke.” He exited into the alleyway, lighter and cigarette in hand. Jim sighed and went into the hallway, not knowing how to handle Roger. Hera went after him, trying to bring some comfort.

You just sat there, watching everything unfold. You couldn't really do anything against it so you just watched him storm out, but you could get what he's feeling. You decided to go after him and try to sympathise. You entered the alleyway to see him with a lit cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. His back was leaning against the wall. He immediately sees you and takes a long drag, before huffing out the smoke in his lungs.

“What do you want?” He asked, his eyes full of spite.

“I just wanted to say, I don't want to do this either.” You spoke softly, now wanting him to get any more stressed.

“Of course, you wouldn't.” He mocks you.

“I bet you were the one who suggested this whole thing.” He went on throwing his hands up.

Anger started bubbling up within you, and you had to restrain yourself from slapping some sense into him. To say you suggested this was an absolute insult to you.

“Look Roger.” You paused and smiled sarcastically.

“Do you really think I'd want to be pretending to share intimate moments with someone i barely know? No. I’d much rather spend time to myself, writing music. I find this whole thing dishonest and I don't want to lie my way to the top. I want to do things I’ll be proud of.”

Roger stopped for a moment and looked at you, his blue eyes gleaming into your (E/C) ones.

“I know, I'm sorry.” He dropped his cigarette and squashed it into the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words to say.

“I know it seems like I don't care much, but I want other people to see that I'm an artist as well. I want them to know for my music, not the women I’ve shagged.” He says, finally letting out his emotions.

You were now apathetic to man you swore you couldn't befriend. You saw how the media portrayed him and you were glad you weren't in his position. I mean sure he could pretend to not care and ignore it, but deep down inside, he cared a lot.

“Okay, here me out.”

“Hearing you out.”

You leaned sideways against the wall before continuing. “We both want the same thing, we're both being forced to do this and we both want a change of perspective. Can't we work together? ” You suggested.

“I mean of course, but how?” both your minds tried to figure out how you would handle the situation of being together. An idea popped into your head and you took Roger’s hand and dragged him inside.

“Hey, hey where are we going?” He asked as you brought him back into the office. You let go of his hand and went behind the desk to look for some pen and paper. You laid them both out and the desk as Roger sat down on the other side of the desk.

“We have to set boundaries.” You said taking the paper and writing down a rule. You put it back down and Roger took it reading what you written down.

“No sex?”

“Listen if I’m gonna do it, I wanna do it with someone I really do love.” You said handing him the pen.

“Fair enough.” He said writing down something else on the paper. You peeked over to see what he was writing.

“But we have to at least make the public believe that we're head over heels with each other.”

You saw what he wrote and it said PDA. You cringed at the thought, but he was right. You might as well get over it.

“Fine.”

“Aw, come on. I’m not a bad kisser. In fact maybe you'll find out later.” He winked which sent a shiver down your spine. You tried not to make your blushing evident, but it very much was. Roger like making you flustered, and would plan to do so in this fake relationship.

“Okay, no wait” You stumbled over your words before finally forming a cohesive sentence.

“One more rule, we tell no one. No bandmates, parents, sisters, brother, friends. Got it?” You wrote it down while Roger watched. You signed your name at the bottom the very bottom signifying your agreement. You looked back up and stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it.

“Just one person please.” He begged profusely. You thought about it and figured there was no use arguing with him. You were both agreeing on things and you had take the seize the opportunity.

“Okay, okay.” You said as he took your hand. He took the pen and added ‘except one person’ on the last rule.

“Now sign the paper.”

“Are you serious?”

“Just do it.”

You pestered him and slapped his shoulder playfully. He raised his hands defensively, giving in.  He signed at the bottom and it was done. You stuck the paper in your pocket and this was where your fake relationship started.

It was a month into your ‘infatuation’ with one another and the masses were eating it up. You were both showing your more romantic sides and quickly became quite a power couple. People were quick to forget both of your pasts to focus on the your ever blooming relationship. It was so believable that eventually you both had been invited to parties together.

As you got to closer to him, you saw past the flirtatious jokes and alcohol fuelled activities, and saw the music devoted, passionate drummer. You tried to tell yourself you weren’t falling for him, but it was far too late. On the other hand, he also started to see your less innocent side which was not as innocent as he thought.

“So (Y/N), what’s the most romantic thing Roger has done so far?” Freddie asked smiling at you both from across the dinner table. Roger brought you to dinner with the boys as to introduce you to one another. It was going pretty well and you quite like them. They were fun to be around and they feeling seemed to mutual.

“Hm.. I don’t know Fred.” You thought deeply of an excuse, when you realized it was your time to fluster Roger as he usually does.

“Well, there as this one night where roger came to my flat and woke me up in the middle of the night and surprised me with a box.” You paused looking to see Rog’s reaction was currently nothing. He sat back to see how you would fair.

“The box he had was a decoupage of his face and hearts. I was still hazy so I had not had a clue what was going on, so honestly I thought either I was going mad or Rog was absolutely pissed.” Brian and John had started chuckling whilst Fred listened on intently.

“I opened the box and saw a toy car inside, which Roger proceeded take and told me that i’m in love with my car was about me. I was obviously shocked and still half asleep so I told him to fuck off and went back to sleep.” Everyone at the table, but roger laughed, you included. He just pouted trying to look enraged, but ended up looking like a cute kid who just got embarrassed.

“I knew it couldn’t possibly be about a car.” Brian said in between laughs.

“I mean he locked himself in a cupboard.”

Everyone continued to laugh making jokes based off the encounter whilst Roger just waited for everyone to shut the fuck up. He obviously couldn’t protest, but he was pissed. You started feeling guilty for the partially blind melon and decided to boost his ego the slightest bit. When things started to die down, you spoke up.

“Although I will say, that morning i did show him how to fuck off.”

You winked at Roger and his jaw just fell, leaving his mouth agape. He had never heard you say something with even the slightest hint of suggestiveness. You just giggled at him, seeing how surprised he was by your little comment.

“That sounds about right.” Fred raising his eyebrow.

Later on when everyone had left and you and Roger were the only ones left. He asked you about it.

“So what happened to no sex?”

“I didn’t say we could pretend.” You said sipping more of the champagne you had. Roger just shook his head not knowing how to feel, turned on or turned on. He was starting to wish things weren’t pretend.

You had become quite good friends behind the scenes so acting like a couple was becoming less and less of a drag, but your label would always find some way to exaggerate your relationship by creating elaborate plots that would surely catch the media’s eye.

“You want Rog to fake save me from drowning in the ocean?”

They were trying to make Roger seem like some hero type character and you were some damsel in distress; you both responded in ways that got you in trouble. Bottom line, you saved Roger from fake drowning in the ocean. For a label named after the weapon of the God of sea, they didn’t have much control what happened out on that beach.

This incident however sparked numerous others that the management did NOT like.

What you and Roger did was basically do the opposite of what they’d say. If they had told you to go to a new movie premiere together and start some fight only to end up in some passionate make out session in front everyone, you’d go to either yours or roger’s flat and watch whatever movie was on. It was something you both took deep pleasure in for the purpose of fucking over the management and having a good time.

“This is so much better compared to mingling with whoever the fuck the whole night.” You said throwing a popcorn into your mouth. Roger just laughed at you in amusement. He couldn’t believe how laid back you had become because of him. He was proud in a way.

“True.” He smiled as you rest your head on his shoulder. The movie carries on until quite an emotional scene broke out between the protagonist. In that moment a scary thought entered your mind, unannounced and you didn’t know how to react but to blurt it out.

“So what happens when this is all over?” You asked looking up at him, scared to see what he would say. “Well we’ll still be friends for sure.” He said taking some popcorn from the bowl you held. You looked him eye to trying to set it to a more serious tone.

“I’m serious Roger. Do you promise?” You asked as he looked at you, your eyes filled with dread. He smiled soft, knowing exactly how to put you at ease.

“(Y/N), I could never forget you even if I tried. I don’t think I could even go a minute without thinking of you.”

All these little things you did, only hastened your attachment to him. If you could hold onto him for the rest of your life, you would.

You were in love and it was as if a wrecking ball had just wrecked your heart a million times over.

About seven months in, they had called you both in to the very same office this all started. The room was silent and you sense something horrible was about to happen. Unfortunately, you were correct.

“You both have to break up.”

The CEO said firmly as you both sat opposite him. You were going to protest, but the man who was your boss laid out the rules very quickly. He didn’t want to see you together ever again.

You couldn’t even hear what he was saying after he had said you couldn’t see each other anymore. Your vision went blurry and you didn’t know how the both of you were gonna handle this. You wondered what would happen to your friendship. Was your chance at a real relationship crushed for good? You didn’t know and that was what scared you most.

You were miserable. It was as if you and Roger were finally finding your way when stumbled and fell. You were sure you wanted him more, you didn’t have to pretend to love him. You were in love with him, you knew it by heart. You wanted tell the whole world you loved him and you could only wish he would love you in the same way. You could die happily in his arms, but right now you could die period.

The little meeting ended and he left you two in the room to say your goodbyes. The silence was thick just like in the beginning. A billion thoughts were running through your minds so it was understandable. You were about to speak up when Roger beat you to it.

“Well, It was nice knowing you (Y/N), but I guess our time in a fake relationship is up.”

He stood up and left the room, leaving you to it. You would have gone a followed him, but you were too much in the state of shock to do say. You couldn’t believe that he had just done that after everything the both of you had been through. He just threw every memory you shared as if it were nothing. Tears started to streak down your cheeks as you heard the door open. Hera saw you crying your eyes out and immediately deducted what had happened.

“Fell for him?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you weren’t going to.”

“Me too.”

You had tried to forget him, despite all the polaroids the you had posted around your flat. You didn’t want to take them down just yet, but you couldn’t stand to see his face. He kept you alive, but killed you softly all at the very same time. You would laze around your flat the whole day and spend the night on the sofa the whole night mindlessly watching whatever came on.

You felt as if all the life had just been sucked out of you. You didn’t see any point in living. You were merely an empty vessel among other vessels.

The news about your break up had been a headliner for about 3 days now and you couldn’t care what anyone thought anymore. You threw all newspapers you received in the bin, as soon as you saw your and roger’s name. Fred and John had come over with some chocolates and flowers feeling immense pity. They had even offered to take you out, but you couldn’t not in the state of mind you were in. Brian had also sent over a homemade loaf of bread which was really random but appreciated nonetheless.

You were doing your usual routine one night when a knock came from the door. You grumbled, getting up from your comfy seat. You sauntered towards the door, slowly and groggily as the knocking went on. You opened the door the see the devil himself, Roger.

You were shocked and on impulse, you slapped him hard.

It created a loud sound you were sure the whole complex heard, but you didn’t bother at this moment. He just stood there with his eyes wide open, holding the cheek you had slapped.

“oUch.”

He said rubbed it over again being in unbearable pain. You rolled your eyes not knowing what else he could possibly want. You stepped aside, letting him come inside and glared at him as he came in. “Sit down, I’ll get you an ice pack.” You said walking to kitchen and opening the fridge. Roger sat down on the sofa, the same sofa where you would both hang out with one another, snuggling against the cold.

Meanwhile, Roger was afraid for what was about to happen. He didn’t mean to just leave you hanging, but he didn’t want start a fight and get you into bigger trouble, so he and the rest of the queen just decided to leave the record label. They had all agreed they were shit. He didn’t mean to ignore you in the meantime, but it seems like he has fucked up big time. He got caught up in everything he was doing for you that he forgot you, yourself.

You came back with an ice pack and held it against his cheek, until he did it himself. You finally composed yourself and asked.

“Roger, what the fuck?”

“I deserved the slap, but I can explain further, if you’d let me..” He said raising his hand defensively in case you would strike again. You laid against the sofa armrest and crossed your arms.

“It better be damn good.”

“I didn’t want to get you in trouble so the band and I left the label. I know you said we could only tell one person, but I had to tell them so that they’d understand. I mean we were gonna leave them anyways ” You looked away, your expression softening.

“What I’m trying to say is that when I said our fake relationship was up, I meant it. I want our fake relationship to over.” You looked back at him, and took his cheek in your hand, removing the ice pack and placing your palm against his cheek.

“What do you want then, Rog?” You asked, the icy glaze you once had melted into empathy.

“I want our real relationship to start.”

He closed the gap between the both of you and kissed you like he never had before. You had both kissed many times in the past, but this one felt real, genuine and so much better. It wasn’t a show you had to put up for anyone. It was a moment to be shared by the both of you ONLY. Your lips were soft against his, and he instantly felt the sorrow and pain you had been through the past days, but all that was forgotten when he kissed you so sweetly. You felt like a volcano of flower petals had just erupted and you both were in the midst of it. You both pulled away to breathe for a second.

“I really really love you (Y/N).” He took your hand and intertwined it with his.

“Roger Meddows Taylor, you have no idea.”

So Maybe you were wrong. Maybe dancing in the moonlight was as romantic as it sounded. There were risks and dangers, but they all paid off. You just needed to have trust in one another, that was it. You needed to let fate do its thing and lead you to him as it led him to you. You just needed to trust that everything was going to be alright. You couldn’t trust yourself to fall in love, but now you did.

You were no longer dancing in the moonlight, but you were dancing in the sun and Roger was your sunshine.

~~~~~~~~~

[donttellpeterparker]

When In Europe

Summary: Europe was a magical place that captivated everything from art to music to food and even love. It had captured your entire being and drew you closer to someone you were trying so desperately to stay away from. It took only a matter of time for everything to start spinning out of control...

Requested: No

Word Count: 3k+

Note: Please listen to this and watch this

Warning(s)?: Senior!Reader, Senior!Peter, FFH, Angst, Fluff,

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

When In Europe

(Different writing style)

Spending my time in Europe had been epic. It had only been three days into my trip and honestly, I never wanted to leave. Visiting all the monuments and tourists attractions instantly had me hooked to this place. I was so glad I spent the past year saving up for this, those extra shifts at the cafe really were paying off.

There was only a few months before graduation, a last trip with all of our friends before we departed each other to start our own journey. I teared a little knowing this was probably the last time we will all be together, not arguing, studying, stressing over an oncoming exam or anything like that, just being in the moment, together. I couldn't have been happier.

''Come on Y/N, we have five minutes before Mrs Y/T/N possibly burst through our door and finally slaps us across our heads'' My friend MJ laughed from beside me, referring to one of our teachers who have joined us. Her and Mr Harris had the dreaded job of controlling the Senior Year, poor them.

I smiled to myself in the mirror and made sure my lip gloss was perfectly across my lips before popping my phone and wallet into my off the shoulder purse. Only two more days of bliss before reality set back in.

''Let's go'' I couldn't contain my excitement, I was sure I was annoying MJ to no end. Tonight was the night of the ball. I know, it sounds tacky but honestly, it also sounded kinda fun. Ever since the school Prom last year, any dance would be better than that one.

''Oh god come on Sarah! This is going to be the best night of our youthful lives!''  I was beyond excited for tonight. Prom. We weren't Seniors but this night was important to all high school students. We rarely had dances so all year levels were aloud to attend Prom, though all the years below Senior had to leave by 10.

''God your always so dramatic'' Sarah sassed as we sat in the back giggling together. Both of us had managed to score dates, mine be Mike, a forwarder for our school football team and Sarah's boyfriend, Andrew who was the Quarterback. (sorry, I'm Australian so I'm not sure how American football works)

''Why thank you Darling'' My horrible accent had us both into hysterics once again. Once we had arrived courtesy to Sarah's dad driving us, we hopped out and waved goodbye walking arm in arm into the school gymnasium.

''Hey you'' Andrew came up from behind and wrapped his arms around Sarah, twirling her around as she giggled. She mouthed 'sorry' to me and I just waved her off, hoping she would enjoy her night.

''Wow you look... so hot'' I faked a smile and turned to face Mike. I wasn't asked out by anyone, not even the guy I was falling for.. but it didn't matter, Andrew's friend did so I wouldn't have to go tonight alone.

''Not to bad yourself'' I tried to compliment but it just didn't feel.. right. He just smirked and took my hand beginning to walk me away when he saw something.

''Oh god, what the hell is that loser doing here?'' He asked aloud and turned around. I furrowed my eyebrows and turned around myself. There, not 20 meters away was Peter Parker walking through the doorway, stopping suddenly when his dazed eyes reached mine.

I could hear Mike scoff from beside me, turning back around uninterested. Instead I stared at Peter and smiled sadly, wondering myself why he was here. He hated dances, and especially attending them alone. He nodded his head and smiled timidly at me before glancing around, still looking dazed. The look unsettled me more than it should have. My eyes followed him as he walked past us, Mike muttering some insult underneath his breath as he approached Liz Allen. Of course, the Senior he had been crushing on.

I was an idiot, a complete and utter idiot. Why would he even like me back when he had her? And especially in the most gorgeous dress I had ever seen. She smiled happily at him and-

''Come on gorgeous'' Mike had interrupted my thoughts when he began to lead me onto the dance floor, exactly towards the middle. I shake my thoughts and move my eyes to his, trying to hide the heartbreak and hurt that I was currently feeling towards a certain brown eyed boy.

He placed his hands on my waist and pulled me close to him as a slow song began to play, my eyes finding Sarah and Andrew in the distance snuggled up together, an occasional kiss shared between them. Was it too much to want something like that? Someone to hold, care for, love?

''I can't do this'' I looked for the familiar sound of his voice and frowned once I saw him, leaving Liz. She looked shocked and confused as he took off, racing towards the side exit of the gym. I kept slow dancing with Mike as I watched, my eyes following his retreating figure as worry began to settle in my stomach. Why in the world would he ditch the girl he was madly in love with?

''I'm going to go get us a drink ok?'' I asked Mike without looking at him, he responded with an 'okay' and let me go. My legs took me into the direction where Peter ran off to, my arms opening the doors before I can even process what I was doing.

But I regretted it instantly. All I could see down the hall was just that, an empty space filled with lockers and doors that lead to classrooms. There was no sign of Peter. But then again in my life there never really was, wherever he was going I was never really following... till now.

And even then.. he's gone.

It was as if I stopped trying after that night. I didn't ask anymore questions about his disappearances, I didn't voice my concern, worry, or anything. We fell out of touch but yet I never fell out of love with him.

''Are you okay?'' Mj walks up behind me once she realised I was spaced for a while. I look over my shoulder and wiped away a tear, nodding my head.

''Yeah, totally, come on, the day awaits'' I knew MJ didn't buy it but she didn't ask either which was good. We left our shared hotel room and made our way down into the lobby to meet up with everyone else.

''Okay gather around now! Hurry! We haven't much time!'' All 56 of us excited teenagers did as the Tour Instructor asked.

''Now as you are all aware of, We have been invited to the masked ball held by Mr and Mrs Salvatore, proud owners of the beautiful History Of Europe Museum for their grand Opening! We were very lucky yesterday to get a sneak peek and small tour, now, you'll only have a few hours after lunch to shop for your dresses, suits and masks, all have which been acquainted for apart of your allowance.-'' I had droned out, admiring all the lovely art works that hung in the quite historic. God this whole country was beautiful on the inside as well as the outside.

''God I feel like I am in some cheap fairytale'' MJ comments beside me stirring me from my thoughts. I glance at her and laugh, slightly agreeing with her.

''So on we go to the Theater!'' I was silently excited for this as opposed to many of the other students.

''And let the torture continue'' I smiled once again at MJ's remark before following behind everyone else and onto the shuttle bus.

~*~*~*~*

''So apparently, we are heading to lunch now, then into town for shopping, then we get the afternoon off to get ready'' I was saddened by the idea of leaving the theater so soon. I had wanted to walk around backstage, soak in the atmosphere.

''I'll meet you at the bus'' I had left MJ and walked around the other students and headed back onto the theater stage. We were again, lucky, to be able to get access to one of the most famous theaters in the world, having it all to ourselves for a little over an hour.

Walking up the steps I had expected to be alone, not to see a figure standing right in the middle. I took small and slow steps towards the center as well, not really paying attention to the other person as I stare out in the auditorium. The hundreds of red cushioned seats starring back at me.

I closed my eyes and smiled, feeling at peace.

''Beautiful isn't it?'' I asked aloud, my eyes opening to see the blarring lights still shining down.

''It definitely is'' I could feel myself freeze when I recognised the voice. I stiffened and wished the ground right then and there would swallow me up whole. I slowly turned my face to the side and saw Peter standing not too far away, already looking at me. I licked my lips nervously and glanced down at the ground.

It hurt being near him.

''We should get back to the others'' I spoke up with a small voice now, wanting to leave.

''We still have a few more minutes'' It was as if he wasn't fazed. Like we haven't being ignoring each other for the past 12 months. I wasn't sure whether to be angry or upset, or both.

''Lunch will be soon'' Speaking so formally at him felt wrong. Peter just nodded but continued to pick up the peaceful serenity of this place.

It was silent for a few moments, neither of us knowing what to speak or say.

Did he feel nervous and uncomfortable like I did? Did he feel like he had been punched in the chest when he saw me? Of course not.

''You've been quiet these past 24 hours'' Why the hell would I bring this up?

''Just had some stuff on my mind'' He had gotten very good at lying. He was acting weird like he normally would, even on this vacation.

''It's more than that'' I found myself speaking, turning to face him. No matter how hard I tried I still cared for him, even when I hated myself for it. He looked at me and starred for a few seconds, a look in his eyes I couldn't pick up on before he smiled.

''You could always tell when I was lying''

''Cause you're an awful liar'' We both laughed. It was nice. He slowly began to walk away and casted me one last glance.

''You look really pretty today'' He said shyly and quietly, so quietly I almost missed it. I starred after him in shock as he left, walked down the stairs and out the doors.

''So do you..'' I murmured after him but it was pointless. I left out one last glance before leaving as well, my heart swirling with emotions I had buried long ago. (Spider-man FFH trailer anyone?)

~*~*~*~*

Dress shopping with MJ in Europe was probably not one of my most favourite things to do. After I told her about my very short and probably non meaningful conversation with Peter she wouldn't stop yapping. She told me to stay away from him, knowing how much I still felt for him.

''It's been forever, I mean, maybe it was just Deja Vu? You know, with feelings instead of the scenario'' Even I knew I was bullshitting myself.

''Doesn't quite work like that'' I wanted roll my eyes at her but I knew she was right.

''I've moved on, I'm not in love with him anymore'' I lied. MJ looked at me and smiled as if she bought it.

''Good because he isn't worth it, he's hurt you too much'' Not by his own choice.

''Yeah, I know. Want to be my date tonight?'' I was just about finished with my dress and makeup when we heard a small knock at the door.

''Sorry, Ned has already asked me'' She smiled sadly before opening the door to reveal Ned standing there in a suit, his mask in one hand as he smiles at MJ before turning to face me.

''Hey Y/N'' I smiled back and nodded.

''Ned'' I replied, fixing the final touches of my hair before reaching for my black and white mask from my bed.

''Peter's going stag so do you mind if he joins us?'' Ned asks MJ and she nods slowly, glancing at me. I ignore her look and glance at myself in the mirror one last time, remembering this morning before heading over towards the door.

''Of course'' she responds.

''I'll see you there?'' MJ asks, picking up her own coat and mask. I smile back as I watch her and Ned leave the room, closing the door behind them.

I take a deep breath and try not to glance at my nervous figure in the mirror before taking off myself, heading down to meet everyone to hop on the bus.

~*~*~*~*

Was it weird that I smelt the air as soon as I hoped out of the bus? For some reason the air In Europe smelt fresher, clearer. I lifted your spirits in ways you never thought possible. I loved it. The gloom I was feeling not an hour before soon drifted away as I felt a genuine smile cross my lips, the first one for the day.

I was beyond excited for tonight. I had wanted to spend the night exploring, having a few drinks and soaking in the atmosphere. I was here for that particular reason. I had no care for another dance, not after the last one.

I believed I was cursed when it came to dances. Especially once my eyes found Peter Parker off in the distance standing with Ned and MJ. I quickly looked away before any one of them caught my lingering stare.

My mask was surprisingly comfortable on my face as I walked through the huge doors, smiling to myself in awe at the polished inside of the museum came to life. I took in the art, the high ceilings that hung chandeliers, the waiters were immaculate. I stopped in my floor length gown and stopped once I heard the doors open again, my eyes deceiving me by glancing over my shoulder.

And there he was, Peter Parker being the last to walk inside. How long had I stood admiring my surroundings?

But that wasn't what made me froze. My heart leaped in my chest at the sense of Deja Vu. I didn't mean to get lost in his eyes, I didn't mean to smile as my heart melted all over again. He stayed absolutely still and smiled back, nodding his head as tears brimmed in my eyes, just as before. I turned around this time, not distracted by some other guy as he approached me.

''Hi..'' I opened my mouth to speak but words escaped me.

''Hi'' I was smiling like some love struck fool. God my cheeks were blushing so bad right now but I did not care. The way he was looking at me, the way I had dreamt and wished for so very long, had me locked.

It was cheesy of me to say that it felt like we were the only people in the room but it was true. Everything else fell away into the background. The music was the only thing I could hear, the soft lullabies of a familiar tune playing (insert song) had my chest hammering.

But as soon as the moment arrived it left. Peter frowned and in concern so did mine. It was happening all over again I knew it.

''I have to go'' He said sadly, beginning to walk past me. It was as if my heart was breaking all over again, the same look he had shared with Liz now being shared with me. My head whipped around so fast to see his retreating figure once again. I could feel the tears brimming around my eyes, one falling. My breathing being caught in my throat.

But there was no way I was letting him get away this time so I took off. I raced after him so fast that I was sure I would fall over, especially in these heels. The whole world melted away as I could feel my feet run faster and faster, feeling myself being pulled back into the past. This time, my dress was a cocktail dress, no heels and less makeup. I had exited the gymnasium and into the hallway only this time, I could just see him in the distance.

''Peter!'' I yelled out causing him to stop. His tie was loosen, that was the first thing I noticed soon followed by his scared expression. I quickly jogged up to him with tears in my eyes, seeing a younger version of Peter standing in front of me.

''I can't redo the past'' I said more to myself then him.

''Can't you see I've already been here with you, more than once, I am not doing that again'' A sob left my lips with the words. Peter just stared at me at a loss for words. I shook my head as another tear slipped onto my cheek.

''Nothing's changed, after a whole year nothing has changed'' I spoke, Peter just staying still.

''I am so tired of living in the past, I am so sick of my feelings being in the past but hurting me more in the present''

''So tell me, or show me that some part of you, anything, feels for me'' Peters eyes softly widen at my confession.

''Anything but please, don't run, not again'' I begged. It was as if something had clicked inside of him and he started towards me.

''Please, Peter I lo-'' I could soon feel warm lips on mine, placed so gently that it took my breath away. My eyes instantly shut as I felt myself being drawn back into reality. The lighting in the room changing back into the Museum, the past now being replaced with the present.

Peter's warm hands cupped my cheeks holding me still and close towards him.

I could feel him slowly pull away, his lips only a breath away from mine. My forehead resting against his, eyes still closed.

''I've never ran away from you'' He spoke so softly in a whisper. He searched my eyes looking for something. I gulped and glanced at his lips once again, feeling his hands still cupping my face, the warm tingles still pulsating through me. He lent in again slowly and let out a shaky breath.

''But I do have to go'' And just as soon as the rush came it left again. He pulled away and left, his hands leaving me cold as he raced away, rushing out the doors. I stood still and let another tear leave my eye as I just watched.

Peter was more complicated than I could ever explain. Maybe that was why I was so drawn to him. He was there one minute and gone the next, but in that minute, I felt whole.

So In spite of myself I smiled. A tingle still upon my lips as I turned around and joined everyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: A very different imagine, hope you guys enjoyed! :) xoxo

[writing-bnha-blog]

can I get uhhhhhhh some Bakugo realising he's in love with a classmate who is friends with him like Kirishima is

>“forgot to say please (for the Bakugo request)” lol it’s fine^^

Bakugou had always felt kind of silly when he was a round you, but he always figured it was because he wasn’t used to having many… close friends. You and Kirishima had waltzed into his life and left no room for debate- you were there for the long run.

Usually, he was able to ignore the increase of his heartbeat or the sudden butterflies flopping around his stomach when it came to you, but he never stopped and took a second to wonder why you affected him in such a manner.

In fact, all it took was some kid from another class complimenting you to realize his dilemma.

“Hey, you know Y/N L/N from the hero course? They’re pretty attractive, don’t ya think?” Bakugou had heard the person say, nasally voice practically ingrained in his ears. Instead of teaching the kid a lesson Bakugou promptly turned to go the other way, deciding maybe it was important to wonder why some harmless words threatened him so much.

“Oh fuck.” Was what he said in his dorm room later that night, kept awake by images of you flashing through his mind. There was no way he wasn’t in love. It snuck up on him and made him feel weird, and he knew there really wasn’t a way to get rid of it.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima called as he ran up from behind the blonde. Bakugou sent him a glance but didn’t respond, hands stuffed in the pockets of his school uniform as he waited for the red head to speak.

“Where were you yesterday? I thought we all agreed to study for math.” Kirishima pouted, the word ‘we’ was used in reference to you. Bakugou felt his heart drop- after that kid said shit about you his day was ruined! He forgot about the plans he’d made.

Bakugou groaned in realization, making Kirishima giggle. “Fuck, I forgot. I’ll help you dumb asses out today, or something. Some shit head from a different course really fuckin’ turned my mood sour.” Bakugou said honestly, knowing the only person who was listening was his red haired friend.

Kirishima hummed in response, wondering what someone could say that put him into such a bad mood he forgot about his plans. Bakugou had always been punctual.

“What’d he do?” Kirishima asked innocently, completely unaware of Bakugou’s feelings for you. Bakugou sucked in a breath, realizing that maybe he should’ve just left it at ‘I forgot.’ However, due to his sudden hesitation, Kirishima only became more intrigued.

Bakugou looked around the room, his scowl deepening as he thought about his feelings for you once more. He felt too all over the place, and it sucked. No one was around- Bakugou and Kirishima always got up early so they could have the bathrooms and the common room to themselves.

Kirishima was smiling, knowing he’d be able to get Bakugou to confess whatever he was feeling. He didn’t even have to say anything more, knowing the way the blonde was taking in air meant he was about to say something he wasn’t eager to say.

“This dipshit was just talking about Y/N, okay?” Bakugou seethed. The red head furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what they possibly said. If someone insulted Bakugou’s friends, it didn’t usually end well.

“Like, insulted?” Kirishima pushed. Bakugou rolled his eyes and hit his lip, shaking his head no. “No, you dumbass! Why would anyone say shit about Y/N?” Bakugou paused, trying to cool off.

“They said shit about Y/N being attractive. It’s dumb.” Bakugou finished off, stalking toward the bathroom to rid himself of morning breath. His counterpart had a small gasp, wondering if what he was thinking was true.

“Bakugou…” Kirishima asked as he followed behind the blonde for the second time that morning. “Do you like Y/N?” he whispered the last part despite no one being around to hear him. Bakugou turned around to star at him aggressively.

“Of course not, dumbass!” Bakugou said indignantly, before shoving his toothbrush in his mouth and scrubbing aggressively. Kirishima just nodded, but the smile on his face said that he was hardly convinced. Bakugou wasn’t convinced, either.

-

Class was horrible. Kirishima kept sneaking glances at Bakugou which made it practically impossible to focus, and he kept saying weird things. Confiding in Kirishima was the worst decision he’d made that year- and he accidentally put instant ramen in the microwave without water when he was too tired one day.

“Hey, Y/N, Bakugou said he’d help us out today! Isn’t that great?” Kirishima said during their lunch break, making Bakugou sigh. You clapped your hands together excitedly.

“Oh, good! Thanks, Bakugou. I got worried when you didn’t show up yesterday.” You said while smiling at him, making him flustered. You were worried about him? Why did that make him so happy? Bakugou removed the emotion from his face, giving a tiny scoff.

“I’m obviously fine, so it’s whatever.” Was all he said before shoving more food into his mouth, trying to rid himself of any awkwardness he felt. You shrugged, not seeming to be bothered by his behavior at all. The rest of lunch ran smoothly, all three of you diverging from different topics as you finished your meals.

-

Before Bakugou knew it, school was over, which meant it was time to study. You all decided to go to Kirishima’s room, figuring it would be easier for all of you to talk in a space like that rather than a library.

Besides, Kirishima seemed ecstatic to host. Surely, something would go wrong. Bakugou felt it as he grabbed his extra textbooks from his dorm room before slinking over to his friend’s room.

You were already there, unpacking your bad as you knelt on the floor. Kirishima was lighting a candle, something he did often whenever someone came to his room. He was pretty clean- a lot cleaner than some of the boys.

“Oh good, right on time! Let’s get started- Oh no!” Kirishima said dramatically, slapping his hands on his face. You looked at him in concern while Bakugou deadpanned. What a horrible actor!

“What the matter?” You asked, starting to stand up before Kirishima pushed your shoulder lightly to keep you down. Kirishima shook his head in mock distaste.

“I forgot my backpack in our classroom! Guess I have to go get it… You two can start without me, don’t wait up!” Kirishima said hurriedly, practically running out of his room. Bakugou could even see the smile on his face- he hopes Kirishima would never try out for a school play.

Bakugou stared blankly at the door, wondering just what he’d done to deserve a situation like this. A lot, probably- but that wasn’t the point. Now you two were alone together, and he wouldn’t be able to focus on class. He’d probably just be creepy, thinking you smelled good or something. You did smell good.

“Bakugou?” You asked curiously from your spot on the floor, making him turn to face you. Your voice was cute and your face was too, it made him nauseous. “Do you want to start? If you wanted to wait, that’s fine too.” Was all you said, sending him a tiny smile as you patted the spot next to you.

The blonde inhaled before sitting down, his affection and embarrassment increasing tenfold when he realized how close he was. He didn’t miss the way you leaned close to him, until you were almost touching the side of his body. Maybe it was so you could focus on what he was pointing at.

“So what the hell do you need help with?” Bakugou asked you gruffly, making you turn your head to look up at him. He turned, too- before widening his eyes as he realized just how close you two were.

You gave him the gentle smile of yours, eyes softening and lips looking pretty damn kissable. “Are we actually going to study?” You asked softly, voice quiet and light. He raised in an eyebrow in confusion.

You tilted your head, eyes widening a bit as you felt yourself become embarrassed. “I figured you knew why Kirishima left... Because, he wanted us to get together... Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you liked me back.” You said, getting ready to back off before the blonde lightly grabbed your chin, leaning in and placing a kiss on your lips.

Despite being stunned, you immediately kissed him back, making him respond with more desperation. You wrapped your arms around his neck before he pulled away, placing tiny kisses along your jawline and neck. It didn’t last too long, because he decided to stop.

“Of course I fucking like you, you idiot- I just thought the the dumbass was doing it for me. I wasn’t gonna mention shit.” Bakugou said honestly, trying to rid his mind of the fogginess kissing you had caused.

You leaned up to plant one more kiss on his cheek, feeling happy at the change in events. Maybe Kirishima was the best wingman. 

“Well, I guess his plan worked, even though his acting sucked,” You giggled and Bakugou smirked. “I guess we can actually study now, until he gets back.” You proposed, not missing the way Bakugou looked at you slyly.

“Or we could just go to my room, since he wanted to be a dick and not tell me about his shitty plan.” Bakugou said, and you laughed before nodding in agreement.

Maybe ruining his own study session wasn’t the best thing Kirishima had ever thought of. Or maybe, it was.

[elsa-of-arrendelle]

If Destiel shippers are allowed to post why they ship Destiel, I am allowed to say why I don’t.

I’ll point out that, yes, I’m religious. I’m a Christian of the LDS church and I believe that marriage and sexual relations should be between a man and a woman. But that’s not the big reason I don’t ship Destiel (Heck, I think Cecil and Carlos are *neat* and freaking adorable). 

I don’t ship Destiel because of what it cancels from the characters, the healthiness of the proposed relationship, and the effect it’s had on the fandom over the years.

Destiel is a ship that began as a fanon ship and still is. The biggest promotion is fans on tumblr, the lip-service and stories are written by fans, the scenes are either drawn by or edited from available sources by fans. The writers clearly have no intent of making it canon and the actors (mainly Jensen cause he’s tired of the constant peppering) have said that Destiel does not exist in the show.

The character-destroying reasons I don’t ship Destiel:

There is a canonically straight man who watches soap operas, cleans, cooks, has worn pink satin panties, drinks flavored water, listens to kids, show empathy, cries, is unafraid to show affection to his male friends and family, mother-hens his friends and family, and listens to his own moral code. It bashes so many stereotypes it makes me want to cry of happiness. Turning Dean Bi changes “breaking useless gender roles and stereotypes” to “Oh, well yeah, he’s gay so that makes sense now.” and degrades how revolutionary his character already is against mainstream media.

There’s also an angel who doesn’t care about sexuality more than a person’s actions (a slap to Westboro Baptists) with no personal reasons for it other than his conscience. He is sweet and kind but can also be awe-inspiring and ruthless against his enemies. Has immense power but tries to use it to help people, even in small acts of service which takes down the idea that abilities are only useful if they’re out beating up bad guys over doing what you can no matter how small.

And I refuse to ignore Sam because he is not going to be demoted to a cheerleader for Destiel. Sam is kind, passionate, and endures immense hardships and is just as valid as Dean or Cas. He is his own powerhouse and while I’m certain that he supports his brother being happy and healthy in any relationship that Dean might choose, he shouldn’t be ignored or downsized as a character to make way for a new romance plot which will inevitably happen because guys, this is tv land. It always happens.

Meg. Megstiel was actually canon. Yet, during the same time that people were still trying to make it Destiel. Meg was literally making out with Cas and it was not one-sided. I have seen more romance - proper, healthy romance, mind you - and positive character development between these two than between Dean and Cas. Castiel would compliment her poetically and she had her pet-name for him and would fuss over him and cared for him when Dean didn’t because the Winchesters had their own problems to deal with.

^^^ Related to this but Destiel shippers have actually stolen a lot from Megstiel which is just messed up. The Pizza Man was based on Megstiel. The idea of having a “unicorn” is from Megstiel. Could you please use your own cliche’s in your fanfics and headcanons??? You can’t think of any that you have on your own?? That’s messed up. If you can’t write a story without stealing a competing ship’s motifs to pass as your own, you probably shouldn’t be writing and should be researching your own dang ship instead.

Dean and Castiel’s relationship would be toxic, in case you didn’t notice. It very nearly is right now. Cas is not and never will be Dean’s top priority. He’s still a priority for sure, but he’s not Sam. A healthy relationship has either each other on equal standing whether their first priority is each other or God. Goals, real-time emotions, or anything else too changeable are easily toppled. The reason Dean and Lisa worked out for a year was because Sam was not an option for Dean to prioritize anymore but the second he came back, the relationship started (sadly) to fall apart and Dean lost that stability. Unless Sam is also Cas’ #1 priority, their relationship is going to capsize faster than the Titanic without interference from Balthazar.

Not to mention, when Dean is stressed about losing Sam/failing the world/problems, he dishes out on Castiel. Cas is a strange character in that he is so old and has so much knowledge but he’s simultaneously like a child for the first several seasons because he’s missing so much social development. Two emotionally unbalanced factors in a relationship either balance each other out perfectly or they go up like a nuclear reactor. Sometimes it’s immediate and other times it builds up, but Dean and Cas initially clash and still clash on many major decisions. They don’t balance each other, they make the other alarmed by their unpredictability and recklessness.

Dean does care about Cas, but he’s not used to him or expressing concern to anyone beyond Sam, John, and Bobby. He’s bad at expressing negative feelings in an okay way. I’m not going to be the anti-shipper who paints Dean as some kind of abusive monster cause I love Dean and they twist him out of context too, but Dean has said some hurtful things and failed on the supportive front for Cas several times because Cas is not his main priority. Similarly, Cas has shown no interest in becoming a human, he enjoys human interaction and helping humans. He’s not some Ariel out to be ‘part of our world’ and S12 had him taking up Joshua on the deal to allow him back into Heaven. They have their own goals and those goals do not align in a way that gives room for a relationship. In short, their relationship will hurt each other, not support each other.

The fact that other characters refer to them as a couple is obsolete. If anyone has ever referred to you and someone else you know as an item, you understand that other people’s feelings on your emotions do not create a relationship, your individual feelings do. So that is not ‘proof’.

Something I want to point out to the fandom:

These are like the 3 most aggresively sexualized moments that the fandom has to work with when it comes to hardcore shipping over fluff. Usually these images are followed by fics of making out passionately after these moments. Fans have turned these moments into ‘magical’ events that scream UST and drama.

But I need you to understand something so listen up.

In each of these moments... DEAN IS FREAKING TERRIFIED. 

#1 +2. Castiel warning Dean to show him respect... because he brought Dean out of Hell and could throw him back in and Dean at this point is most definitely not close to coping with the trauma of those 40 years. He’s threatening him with his biggest trigger right here.

How Romantic. Sparks are flying, guys.

#3. Castiel is literally beating up Dean in an alleyway while yelling at him that he’s being selfish and weak and ignoring Cas’ sacrifices. By the end of this, Dean believes that Cas is just going to kill him.    Awwwwww...

#4. The angels have just been exposed at villians and Dean has yelled at Cas to make a decision. Several hours later, Cas appears and slams Dean into the wall and Dean is completely lost and alarmed by this and is unaware of what side Cas has chosen until after a moment of waiting for something to happen.

All of these moments have Dean afraid and/or believing that he is probably going to die. STOP TRYING TO TURN FEAR INTO AROUSAL. That is some serious rape-culture logic and it is messed up. It’s not “kinky”, it’s not “sexy”, it’s fear. If you can’t tell the difference, go see a psychologist.

Okay. Moving past that, the fandom has a lot of issues to deal with when it comes to context and character intent. Most of the scenes ‘supporting’ Destiel are regular pictures taken at a moment with 0 context provided. Others are gifs where something else is actually going on but it looks flirty when there aren’t words so it goes. Most shippers will also confess to not being very big Destiel shippers before they got into the fanfic because it changes their perspective and makes them look for a notice things that aren’t meant to be that way. I read some Bela/Dean stories and found myself shipping them for a while when I used to be die-hard Lisa or Jo.

Also worth mentioning: The argument of Cas being a “multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent and therefore isn’t really gay so there’s not a problem” is a double-edged sword with the fact that Castiel has never been with anyone not female (or even human btw it was a reaper and almost Hannah and Meg), but you’re also backspacing over the idea that if it was canon it would be a gay ship so... there goes the side opting for LGBTQA representation...what is your goal with that?

I don’t ship it because I’m tired of great characters being simplified, of great relationships being ignored, of made-up images and quotes being spread as though they were true, of looking up Supernatural and being hit by a wave of Destiel headcanons, of people insulting my favorite actors for both refusing to approve of the relationship and for trying not to shut down the relationship, of the level of tin-hatting required to insist that a character is bi because of the color shirt that they wear, and for people tagging every post - no matter how unrelated - as “Destiel”, I’m sick of it all. 

Spamming is the biggest reasons for Anti-Destiel blogs. Tagging everything with your ship name makes anyone who doesn’t ship it want to scream and hate you. This is not how you gain support.

I’m personally just very sick of feeling like I’m not really a part of this fandom because I don’t ship Destiel. But a lot of fans don’t. A lot of fans aren’t on tumblr, they don’t read your fanfic, they don’t consider Cas and Dean to be a couple, they just watch and like the show. That’s kinda what being a fan is. Making everything on Supernatural about Destiel is how you lose support for the show and the fandom.

Shipping despite this is fine. You want to, go for it. It won’t change the show that I enjoy, but please remember that not everyone will ship what you ship and spamming them or harassing them is pointless and rude.

[jackburgos]

How to Respond When You've Been Called a Racist

Hi. Let’s talk about racism.

First, I want to talk about my race. I was raised by my mother to think of myself as White. After all, I am the descendant of well-to-do Colombian plantation owners. Back in the good old days, we owned a lot of land, and we had many serfs. Per the tenets of Latin American pigmentocracy, the Burgos were a White Colombian family. Of course this ignores the fact that if you put us under the sun long enough, our skin darkens quite a bit—to a light russet brown. In fact, my branch of the Burgos family descends from an adopted ancestor, my great-great-grandfather Gabriel Burgos, whose provenance is unknown, but who undoubtedly carried in him plenty of Native American blood.

Am I White? I don’t know. When I talk to a Black person in America, I am often told I am White, and they’re not wrong. I was born after the Drug War had already begun, causing my family to lose many of their holdings in Colombia. By the time I came around in 1983, we were no longer as well-to-do as we’d once been, but we still carried ourselves as if we were. And we still had enough money to appear rich to other Colombians. As far as other Colombians were concerned, we were White because of the way that we behaved. That afforded us a great deal of respect even within the Hispanic community where I grew up. If nothing else, growing up, I felt White.

I don’t always benefit from White privilege. Every so often, I have met a White American who has ripped it from me. That experience has always been jarring, and I have never been able to do anything but react with shock, as if I’ve been suddenly slapped awake. When I was told that I wasn’t a citizen of the United States because I was Hispanic, regardless of my having been born in this country, I was shocked. When I was compared to a monkey by someone who demanded to know how I’d crossed the border, I was shocked. That kind of thing so rarely happens to me, and when it does, all I can do is walk away, confused at my treatment. Because I was raised to be White in a predominantly Hispanic community in southern Florida, I never had to deal with facing such lack of respect growing up. Only in my adulthood, when I traveled to other parts of the United States, did I encounter racism that targeted me.

Even now, as Latin Americans are persecuted and rounded up in the United States, their papers checked and their lives unraveled, I’ve never had to deal with racism on a day-to-day basis. I’ve never had to deal with this hour-to-hour. I can’t imagine having to. Rather, I can’t imagine that I’d be a rational person after having to face such poor treatment so often. A behavior that is grating when it is experienced once can become noxious if it is repeated again and again. It becomes like nails raking down a chalkboard. The United States is an unofficial pigmentocracy, and the frequency of racist behavior that one is forced to contend with increases proportionally to the amount of melanin in one’s skin. That is to say, the darker one’s skin tone, the worse the frequency and the caliber of the racist behavior that one has to deal with on a daily—and, yes, sometimes hourly—basis.

Now imagine someone this harrowed sees me, an ostensibly kind, compassionate person who was raised to think of himself as White, say something like the following:

"I think it’s OK if someone working in a position of authority belongs to a white supremacist hate group in their private time, so long as their private beliefs as a member of said group do not interfere with their duty to the public in their position of authority."  -- A well-meaning White person

A person who experiences racism daily is not going to accept the premise that a person who espouses racist beliefs on their off-hours can keep their racist beliefs at home. It doesn’t seem likely to someone who interacts with White individuals daily who cannot seem to keep their racism in check. “If the White people I know can’t do it,” they justly think, “how can I trust a White person I don’t know to do it? And an avowed racist at that?” As much as I may respect the civil right to free speech, even I wonder whether it extends to hate speech. So does the European Commission Against Racism and Intolerance.

It would be easy for someone who is assailed by racism on a daily basis to see a statement like the above as being in support of racism and, thus, racist itself. It would be easy for its author, who may or may not be a racist, to be identified as a racist for making a statement like this. For a person of color, it is intimately clear that racism is an insidious thing—and that a person whose job it is to provide services to the public cannot do so effectively if they are also a racist. So how do you, a well-meaning individual, respond when you’ve been called a racist?

So You’ve Been Called a Racist

It’s become such a bad word in our culture. Racist. You can’t call someone that without getting their heckles up. We all know that racism is a Bad Thing™. Ask any racist whether they think that racism is bad, and they’ll tell you that it is. The problem is that they don’t define themselves as such. No one does. Like the word “evil,” it’s a descriptor that has become so anathema to what we like to think of ourselves that we shirk from the word itself, whether or not it rightfully applies to us. No one thinks they’re the bad guy. And no one thinks they’re racist.

But racism exists. So how do we explain the difference between the number of people willing to identify as racists and the number of people who engage in racist behavior? Obviously, either racism doesn’t exist to the extent that Black people say it does—which is the argument unironically made by white supremacists—or a great number of people are unaware that they are racists. The latter seems more likely to be true, given the data.

So where are all the hidden racists? We don’t have the time to answer that question, but Project Implicit is trying real hard. Google search results have given us some clues as to how racist Americans are, and we’re very racist. At the very least, Americans engage in a great deal of behavior that could rightly be called racist. It’s easy to learn racist behavior from others without even meaning to when, for example, it is modeled to us as children. My mother used to tell me after a rough day of work that she had “worked like a Negro.” It took me until the seventh grade to learn that this was a reference to Colombia’s history of slavery. When I told my mother that, she explained that it was a compliment. After all, she was saying that Negroes were “hard workers.”

If someone had made a generalization about what excellent cocaine farmers the Colombians were, my mother would have been upset about that. But it’s hard to look in the mirror for most people. Although I never believed it, my mother could have very well meant to compliment Black Colombians for their work ethic. If this were so, my mother may not be a racist, but she would still be engaging in racist behavior.

So what do you do, then? That’s why you came, after all. You want to know how to respond when, inevitably, you say or do something that insults a person of color and gets them to call you a racist. How do you avoid becoming the next White racist viral meme or video?

Step 1: Stop Everything!

Your first instinct will be to say, “I’m not a racist!” Resist that urge. It’s the same impulse your child has when you catch them doing something wrong. It’s the same impulse my racist mother had when she “complimented” the work ethic of Black Colombians.

“I didn’t do anything!” they might say, standing among the debris of a shattered ceramic vase.

“Well, someone broke the vase,” you, the parent, might say.

And, in fact, someone has broken the vase. Someone’s feelings are hurt, or no one would be calling you a racist. Moreover, if you are the one being called out for racism or racist behavior, then you are the reason that feelings are hurt.

But what if you really, really didn’t do anything? It doesn’t matter. Another human being has told you that you are causing them pain. Isn’t it worth at least trying to figure out what caused that pain if not you? As a potential ally for social justice, isn’t it true that you ought to minimize pain and suffering wheresoever you find it? Wouldn’t this situation, where the pain being experienced is directly in your control, be a perfect opportunity to do so?

Step 2: Consider What Has Happened

Someone has called you a racist. But what does that mean?

Quite simply, a racist is “a person who shows or feels discrimination or prejudice against people of other races, or who believes that a particular race is superior to another” (Oxford). The belief that one’s race is superior to another can be so subtle as to be imperceptible to the one who holds that belief about their own race. This is evident to people of color, many of whom have remarked at the incredible confidence with which many White Americans carry themselves in any space, no matter to whom it belongs.

If someone has called you a racist, and you believe very strongly that you are not a racist, then rest assured that you are part of a very large population of people which includes a great many racists and a great many non-racists. That is to say that your claims of being “not a racist” are likely to fall on deaf ears as they have been heard many times before from people who have used them in bad faith.

Instead, consider that you have been accused instead of racist behavior. That is, don’t focus on the untestable claim that “you are a racist.” Instead, consider that you may have engaged in behavior that is commonly engaged in by others who one might appropriately call “racist.” Although you might disagree—and there is a non-zero possibility that you are right—we’re not going to attend to that right now.

Right now, you’ve been called out because you did something that hurt someone else, and that’s the true message that you need to take from having been called a racist. While you may or may not have done something wrong, you still did something that hurt. Unfortunately for you, racist behavior is all too common in the United States. When your behavior reminds a person of color of racist behavior, then you are likely to be identified as a racist, whether correctly or incorrectly.

You should note, however, that people of color very rarely start confrontations with people they do not care about. After all, we’d be having confrontations all day long if we responded to every instance of racist behavior with righteous fury. If someone has called you a racist, then they care what you think. They are giving you the opportunity to correct your behavior and to salvage the respect that they have for you.

If you choose to use your time to argue with the content of the claim made against you—a claim that was made in direct response to behavior that you engaged in—rather than dealing with the hurt that you have caused, well, you’ve just indicated what kind of person you are. Unfortunately, it’s the kind of person that sees another human being in pain and thinks, How will this affect me? It’s not a good look on you.

Step 3: Consider Your Behavior (Instead of the Other Person’s)

That other person seems mad at you. After all, they called you a racist, and one has to be mad to do that, right?

You’ve already resisted the urge to defend yourself externally, but even harder is resisting the urge to defend your behavior internally. Your brain is very quick to defend your status as a non-racist, and it will attempt to do so in the most energy-efficient ways possible. Changing your behavior is hard, but changing your opinion about an individual is easy, and that’s the path we often take.

“I would take that person at their word,” you might say, “if only they calmed down first.” Or perhaps, “if only they were willing to speak like rational adults about this.” Or often, “if only they would be civil about it.” Unfortunately, White people have historically used the veneer of civility in order to vilify civil rights leaders and other minority leaders whose voices they found threatening. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke out against the “civility” that was used as a cudgel against his people:

"I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to ‘order’ than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: ‘I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action.’"  -- Martin Luther King Jr.

He was a great speaker until he was murdered. Unfortunately, not everyone you know is as great a speaker as he, and that means that, rather than call you out on the specific behavior that you have engaged in, some people might resolve to call you a racist and leave the rest to you to figure out. Consider the last time you were angry about something. How effective a communicator were you then?

Instead of focusing on the behavior of the person of color who is presently in pain and calling you out for causing it, try focusing on your behavior. What did you do immediately before you were called a racist? What did you fail to do? As a White ally to people of color, as I know you hope to be, you might be confused that your behavior could be labeled racist at all. Try to work past the confusion and identify the behavior that the person of color called out as problematic. Can you reason out why it was problematic on your own? If not, resist the urge to ask. Now is not that time.

Think without speaking. It’s a valuable skill that minorities learn quickly.

Step 4: Apologize (Without Excusing Your Behavior)

You’ll notice you haven’t yet said a word. To many people of color, watching a White person not become red and defensive at the first sight of a race issue will be a welcome change. You’re already doing so great.

Now it’s time for you to say your first two words. “I’m sorry.” What are you apologizing for? You’re apologizing for the hurt that you caused. You’re apologizing for the offense that started this whole thing. You’re apologizing for whatever it is that you did or didn’t do that was identified by a person of color as racist. I want to note that you are not necessarily apologizing for “being a racist” or for “engaging in racist behavior.” We’re not there yet. You’re only apologizing for the hurt that you caused. And you can be clear about that by going further than two words:

"I'm sorry that I hurt you. My behavior has caused you pain, and worse, it's the same kind of pain that other people who identify as White have caused you in the past. It was never my intent to be associated with them. I will work harder to make sure that my behavior going forward is demonstrative of my intent to continue being an ally to people of color, generally, and to you, specifically."  -- A well-meaning White person kicking ass at apologizing

You don’t need to know exactly what you did or even why it was offensive right now. If these are mysteries to you, then don’t despair. There will always be time to talk later. Right now, your goal is to deescalate the situation that your behavior has created. You caused harm, and now you’re trying to make it better. This is how you start.

Step 5: Listen, Then Ask

An apology is the very first step of the restitution phase. After you’ve apologized—make it good!—the person of color whom you have offended will probably still be angry with you. They may be ready to accept that you are not a rabid racist, since you have demonstrated as much by not being defensive and by taking ownership of your behavior, but they may not be ready to let you off the hook. That’s OK.

Your first step is to understand what you did wrong. Once you’ve opened up a conversation by apologizing, they’ll probably be ready to talk to you about what you did wrong. Listen first. Ask questions that demonstrate that you have been listening.

Do not attempt to change the subject or make yourself look better—these are traps, and they will backfire on you. People of color have had many conversations with White people, and we have seen many White people go on about how “I’m the least racist person you know.” These people are often the worst racists we know. Do not attempt to convince a person of color that you are not racist by telling them that you have non-White friends. The majority of sexists are heterosexual men, so it is very possible to have intimate relationships with people who, as a group, one sees as subhuman. Many White slave owners had intimate relationships with their slaves, all the while buying and selling them like property. People of color are aware of this, and often those who claim that they have a “Black friend” are the worst offenders.

Instead, allow the person of color to lead the conversation. This will be a refreshing change from how these conversations usually go, and it will go a long way towards demonstrating that you are, indeed, an ally to people of color.

Step 6: Do Some of Your Own Research!

I promise you that if you did a thing that someone called “racist,” you are not alone. Others have done the exact same thing, and I bet people make fun of them online. Go do some research of your own!

It’s possible that you disagreed with the person of color completely. You probably wanted to tell them how much you disagreed with their opinions, but you knew better than to argue with someone who is angry with you because of hurt you have caused them. You kept quiet, and that was a great thing you did.

Because others have probably engaged in the same, or similar, behavior, people of color have probably written about it. They’ve already explained why it’s wrong and why you shouldn’t do it somewhere on the Internet. Do some searching and see if you can find some articles written by people of color about the things that upset us. For example, there is a term for the fact that White people struggle so hard to talk about matters of race; it’s called “White fragility.”

On the other hand, it is always possible that the person of color was wholly wrong in calling you a racist, and there was nothing wrong with what you did. That happens sometimes, too. If you’ve been empathetic and kind to the person of color, then the person of color may come back to you with an apology of their own. If they don’t, then you can at the very least be pleased that you behaved exceptionally well in a very difficult situation. The people of color around you will have noticed, and we might be less likely to respond to your behavior so strongly in the future.