#why would i wanna be with someone whose eyes are on somebody else while in a relationship

[manqo]

🕴🏻

[yamigooops]

Break My Heart

pairing: oikawa x gn!y/n genre: pure angst warnings: just angst really, I just wanted to write something sad lol words: ~2k

“Tell me you've never loved me Tell me that it wasn't real Just say you've found somebody else I wanna know the way it feels (Break my heart)” - Break My Heart by Hey Violet

a/n - time to break all your hearts, this had me tearing up while writing so hopefully it does the same to you so I'm not the only one hurting >:')

You were done, you’d had more than enough. You lay in bed, alone, for the fourth night in a row, waiting for your boyfriend of two and a half years to come home, and you were sick of it. Reaching over to turn on the light beside the bed, you picked up your phone to check the time. Almost 2 am. He should have been home an hour ago at the very latest.

With a huff, you threw the sheets off your body, sitting up. You rested your forehead in your hands, elbows braced against your knees. What else could you do? You’d told him so many times you’d lost track that he needed to try harder, that you needed more from him if this relationship was going to work. But he always brushed you off, assuring you that things would get better.

But they weren’t.

You sent a text to your best friend, knowing they’d be up at this time anyway, and asked if you could come to spend the night. You wanted him to know how it felt to go to fall asleep in an empty bed, just like you had done so often lately. Receiving an affirmative text from your friend, you rose and started to pack a bag for tomorrow.

Your mind raced. Did he even want to be in this relationship anymore? Did you? He had been putting in the minimum effort as of late, spending the vast majority of his time at training or going out with his friends and teammates. It seemed he had more time for everyone other than you, and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You almost wanted him to end it, almost wanted to get in a fight about it just to have him show anything other than nonchalance about the situation.

You had been so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t heard him come in, unaware of his presence until he opened the bedroom door. “Y/N? What are you doing up so late?” The smooth silk of his voice shocked you in the silence of the room, making you whirl around to face him.

There he was, Oikawa, in all his glory. His tanned skin bore a sheen of sweat, and his chocolate hair was mussed, from the wind or something else you had no clue. He looked worn out, though that could have been from practice or going out to the club. You wouldn’t know, since this was the first you’d seen of him since he left this morning to go to practice.

You clutched the sweatshirt you were holding to your chest, subconsciously shrinking back from the tall man. You weren’t expecting him to come home until after you had left, now it would be all that much harder to leave. “Um, hi Oikawa,” you muttered, taking a deep breath. “I’m going over to Y/F/N’s place for the night.” You were surprised you got the words out, almost caving at the thought of getting to spend even a little time with your boyfriend, even if it was at two in the morning.

“Why would you do that?” He cocked his head, looking genuinely confused. A small pout formed on his features, and you could tell he was genuinely a bit upset about it.

“Well, I-“ you broke off, not knowing what to say. “We were talking, and they invited me over, and since you weren’t back yet I thought I would go,” you lied. You weren’t sure why you did though, the angry part of you said you should have just told him flat out that you were upset with him. But the peacemaker in you won out, unwilling to cause a fight where it wasn’t necessary.

“But it’s a weeknight, why wouldn’t you just wait until the weekend? Don’t you have work in the morning?” He set his gym bag down on the bed, unzipping it to remove his dirty clothes from practice.

You gulped, mind flying as you came up with a cover. “They, uh, they’re having a bit of a breakdown right now, I was going to go over help them calm down.” You resumed packing your bag, placing each article of clothing inside carefully as you felt his eyes on your back.

“C’mon,” he whined. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week, can’t you just stay? We can cuddle. Usually, you’re asleep by the time I get home, so I’ve been missing out.” The pout was back in full force as he came up behind you to snake his arms around your midriff. He placed a kiss on the back of your head before resting a cheek on your hair.

“Yeah, we’ve barely seen each other all week,” you reiterated, something igniting in your chest. “And whose fault would that be?” The words came out before you could stop them, sharp as knives.

He stiffened against you, arms loosening. “Y/N, I have practice every day but Sundays, you know that,” he replied, a bit defensively.

You pulled out of his grasp, picking up your bag and placing it on the bed. “Yeah, and what about when your practice is over? Hmm? Where do you go then? From 6 to 2 in the morning?” You couldn’t stop the anger from bubbling over, your chest burning with it. Now that you’ve started, you couldn’t stop yourself. “Are you just hanging out with your friends instead of your girlfriend? Are you going out to the clubs?” Your tone was pure venom as angry tears welled in your eyes. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you hissed out the last thought in your mind. “Are you seeing someone else?”

He gaped at you, lips parted and eyes wide as he comprehended what you had said. “Am I- what?!” His voice raised at the end in indignation. “You think I’m cheating on you? You think that’s the kind of man I am?”

“What else am I supposed to think when I’ve gone to bed alone for the last four nights in a row?” You cried, tears blurring your vision. “Torū, I’ve barely seen you at all this week, tell me you wouldn’t be suspicious too!”

He froze, eyebrows coming together slowly. “No, I don’t think I would be,” he defended. “I have quite a bit of faith in you, and it hurts me to know that you have so little in me.” His voice cracked slightly on the last word. You brought your hands up to press the heels into your eyes, hoping to do something to relieve the pressure building behind them.

“My point isn’t to call you a cheater, Torū, all I meant by that was that I have no idea what you’re out doing because you don’t talk to me!” Your voice grew thick with emotion, face growing flush as you raised your arms up to clasp your forearms above your head, eyes still screwed shut.

“Y/N, I’ve just been spending time with the team, that’s all,” he replied exasperatedly, and you heard the soft thump of his clothes falling into the hamper. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been spending enough time with you, but there are other important people in my life besides you!”

His words left you silent, and you opened your eyes to look at the ceiling, head tilting back slightly. The lump in your throat grew, making it unbearable to swallow back the tears that slipped from the corners of your eyes.

“If they’re all so important,” you whispered, “then maybe you don’t need me anymore.” You released your arms, letting them fall to your sides as you came to meet his gaze. The sight almost shattered your heart.

He looked at you like a lost child, mouth agape and hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Were those tears in his eyes? You couldn’t tell from the distance between you. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, letting it rest on the back of his neck. “So… what are you saying Y/N? Hmm? Because I’m not sure at this point,” he breathed, eyes meeting yours and filled with emotion.

You took a moment to get your thoughts in order before responding. “I guess what I’m saying is-” you hesitated, unsure if you should continue. Could you continue with this relationship? Were you happy with him anymore? “I want you to break my heart. It’s already on its last leg and I just need you to cut the last strings because I don’t think I can do it by myself.”

There was a look of pure agony in his eyes. His hands went limp at his sides, and his shoulders fell. “Y/N I-” His voice cracked with emotion. “I don’t think I can do that." He took a step toward you, then another, until he stood just a few inches away, looking like he wanted to wrap his arms around you but refraining. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

All you wanted was rest your head against his chest, cry into the soft fabric of his shirt and act like you were still in love with him. But you couldn’t, not anymore. “I was scared that if I talked to you about it, then that would make it real,” you whispered into the space between, eyes stuck on the collar of his shirt and unable to meet his.

There was a pause, silence overcoming the two of you and thickening the air around you. You could practically hear his brain working to come up with a response that wouldn’t kill you, and you almost broke and fell against him. But you didn’t, couldn’t.

“I don’t think I could ever bring myself to break your heart,” he murmured, words smooth and soft. “But if you need me to cut whatever ties you have left, I’ll do it, even though it kills me. Whatever you need, I’ll do, even if it means I have to lose you.”

It was then that you gathered the courage to meet his eyes, and the moment you did you regretted it. Tears slid down his angled face, shining in the soft light of the lamp. Your heart crumpled, nearly unable to handle the fact that you were doing this to him.

You allowed yourself to reach up and rest your hands on his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” your thumbs ran beneath his eyes in a useless attempt to wipe away his sadness. “I never want to hurt you, but this just isn’t working anymore, and my heart can’t take it. I’m sorry.”

He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, eyes shut, and lower lip drawn between his teeth. His hands came to rest lightly on your hips, fingers wrapping into the material of your shirt. “I know, I know,” he assured you softly. “Things haven’t been the best between us lately, I know that now, but still-” Your hands snaked around his neck, effectively pulling him closer. His lips came to press against your forehead, and the feeling almost made you melt into him. “I’ll always love you Y/N, but if you need me to cut ties, I’ll cut them.”

The feeling of his breath against your skin brought on a fresh wave of tears as you nodded. “Thank you, Torū,” you murmured, fingers running through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Thank you for everything, I mean it.”

He sighed, pulling you against his chest as his arms encircled you fully. “I know, Y/N, you’re welcome.”

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[ohgodmyeyes]

Hot Wax (Like A Band-Aid)

Luke Skywalker x Reader, 2k words. Modern AU? Mature, but no sex.

Summary: Your infallibly sweet husband, Luke, helps you wax your pussy because you’re too pregnant to do it yourself.

...

"I— um, I'm not sure about this anymore. This stuff is hot."

"Come on, Luke! You promised you'd help!"

Luke looked up at you from between your legs, desperation writ on his face. He had to peek around your belly to do it— you were about eight months pregnant right now, which was why you'd enlisted his help with this in the first place. He might have been nervous, but you weren't about to let him back out now... especially given the fact that it was his baby whose steady growth was preventing you from performing your usual hair-removal ritual.

"I just— I mean, I don't want to hurt you. And anyway, you know I don't care whether or not you—"

"I care," you interrupted him, from your spot on the living room couch. "I like how it feels with no hair down there, and anyway, you've already trimmed everything down to the right length— you don't want to quit with the job only half-finished, do you?" Appealing to Luke's sense of duty, you thought, was the most effective way to get him to do something he didn't really want to do.

"Trimming it was easy," he mumbled, seemingly to himself, as he peered back between your legs as if to examine his own work. "This seems... I don't know, dangerous." He paused. "...You didn't really used to do this by yourself, did you?"

"Of course I used to do it by myself," you told him. You weren't crazy about the idea of a stranger removing the hair from your vulva; you'd always shaved or waxed it yourself. Now that you couldn't see the area in question well enough to perform the task, Luke was the next best option— whether he thought he was or not. "Now, hurry up and start putting it on before it gets too cool. The sooner you get to it, the sooner it'll be over."

Luke sighed in defeat. He was sweet, you thought— sometimes almost too sweet. When you'd told him you needed help with something, he'd agreed right away, before even asking what it was you needed him to do. He was probably thinking, now, that he'd made a mistake; however, you knew that with the right amount of reassurance, he'd do a fine job of grooming your pussy. Luke was good at nearly everything he tried, and you were sure this would be no exception.

"...Alright," he conceded. "Alright, fine. But if I screw up, you're not allowed to get mad, okay?"

"You won't screw up! You'll do just fine." You spread your legs as widely as you could, and went on to instruct him, "Just gather some of the wax up on the little stick, and spread it into a line wherever you want to start. Leave it for a minute or two, and once it's hard enough that it makes a noise when you tap it with your fingernail, it's ready to be pulled off."

"Won't that hurt?" he asked, the concern in his voice coming through loud and clear.

"Of course it'll hurt, but only for a second."

"What if you yell? What if there's blood? ...Wait, this can't hurt the baby, can it?"

"I might yell, but there won't be any blood," you told him. "And no, there's no way this can hurt the baby." You placed a hand gently upon your stomach and smiled. "I think she's asleep right now, anyway," you added. "She won't even notice."

He laughed despite himself. "Still think it's a girl, huh?"

You hadn't opted to find out the sex of your baby; you'd both agreed a surprise was a lot more fun. You had a feeling you were carrying a girl, although Luke happened to disagree.

"I do," you said. "It's just a feeling I have, though— we'll find out soon enough."

"I still can't believe you're doing this for us," he said, peeking around your belly and back up at you one more time. "You're going to be a fantastic mom, you know."

"I'm glad you think so... but you wanna know what I think?"

"What?" he asked, flashing you one of his loveliest smiles.

"I think you're going to be a fantastic esthetician. As long as you don't let the wax get too cold."

"Okay, okay! You just want me to start, then?"

"That's exactly what I want."

He shook his head and sighed again, but that sweet smile didn't leave his face. "Okay. I'm going to start at the bottom, and work my way up. Does that sound alright?"

"Sounds fine to me, Luke. Don't worry, it'll be over in no time."

He went to work, after that— just like he said he would, he started at the bottom, with what felt like an appropriately-thin strip of wax in just the right position. He was quiet while he waited for it to harden, and so were you. Your hand stayed on your belly; the baby still seemed to be asleep.

Luke was going to be a wonderful dad, you thought absently as you waited for that first strip to cool— he'd proven to you over and over throughout the course of your relationship that he was willing to do just about anything for the people he loved. Waxing your pussy was just the most recent manifestation of that willingness, and you appreciated it... especially considering that he didn't care whether you were fuzzy down there or not.

"Okay," he said, after a couple of minutes had passed. "I think it's ready. What do I do now?"

"Can you tap it with your fingernail?" you asked, just to confirm that it was, in fact, time to pull it off.

"Yeah, I can. Do I just... pull?"

"Hold the skin right below the edge of the wax so it's super-tight, and then rip it off as fast as you can."

"'Rip it off'?"

"Yep— just like a band-aid."

You heard him take a deep breath, and then he did exactly as you had told him: He held your skin tight with his fingertip, and proceeded to wrench the strip of wax right off of you. You shrieked, partly because you weren't the one doing it; partly, too, because it stung. It would have stung no matter who'd been doing it.

"I'm sorry!" he said. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to—"

"I'm fine," you laughed. "Actually, it felt exactly the way it's supposed to. How does it look?"

"Like your pussy has a bald spot."

"Well, then you'd better get started on the rest."

Having taken on a more serious expression (Luke always looked quite serious when he was hard at work on something), he glanced up at you, nodded, and went on to complete the task of rendering your pubic area perfectly smooth.

You didn't speak anymore so as not to distract him; he didn't say anything else either, except to confirm, periodically, that you were still alright. Every time you squeaked or squealed or otherwise showed even the slightest hint of discomfort, he looked up at you with concern; however, he didn't deviate from his task. By the time he'd worked his way up to the spot just beneath where your belly bulged out, he seemed as though he'd grown quite comfortable with the process.

"Looks like I'm just about done," he said, as he spread one last strip across your mound. "How do you feel?"

"A lot better," you answered, and that was the truth. Not being able to do this job for yourself happened to be one of your least favourite parts of being heavily pregnant. It was worth it, of course; you'd always wanted a family with Luke... but carrying a child did come with its fair share of frustrations and inconveniences. You were glad to have someone like him, who was willing to help you with whatever you needed, whenever you needed it.

Luke, you mused, was an infallibly sweet man— you'd always considered yourself very lucky to have him, and the fact that he was willing to do this for you only served to drive that point home.

By the time you'd finished contemplating how wonderful he was, he'd warned you that he was about to pull off the final wax strip. You told him to go right ahead, and so he did— and with one final pinch (and shriek), the task was complete.

"You have a pretty pussy," he said admiringly, running a finger along the edge of your outer labia. You looked around your belly and at his face; he was smiling again. It made you smile, too.

"Only thanks to you," you said. "I can't tell you how much it means to me that you helped me with that— it was driving me nuts."

"It wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be," he admitted. "I just didn't want to hurt you— you, or the baby."

"You didn't," you said, heaving yourself back up into a seated position (Luke, being the gentleman that he was, helped you by taking your hand and giving it a gentle tug as you did). "We're both just fine. Although I do think I might have woken her up with all my yelling."

"She— I mean he— woke up? How do you know?" He got to his feet, and then sat down beside you on the couch, eyes trained on your stomach.

You gave him a look, and took his wrist in your hand. "She's kicking," you told him. "Right about... here." You placed his palm on the upper part of your belly, just a few inches above your navel. You couldn't actually tell if the baby was kicking or punching right now, but she was certainly doing something, and you had no doubt that her father would want to feel it, too.

He waited a few moments, staring curiously at his own hand. Then, all of a sudden, a broad smile completely overtook his features.

"Feel that?" you asked, with a grin of your own.

"Yeah— yeah, I did feel it!"

"Strong, isn't she?"

He appeared to think for a moment. "...Maybe you're right," he said. "Maybe it is a girl."

"What makes you say that?"

"All the strongest people I know are girls. You, my sister— my mom, too, from what my dad always tells me." He took his hand off your belly then, and leaned in closely to offer you a kiss. "Do you know how proud I'll be if our baby turns out to be even half the person you are?"

You looked into his eyes, which were absolutely brimming with love. Yes, you thought— you really were very lucky to have somebody like Luke to share your life with.

"Whether it's a boy or a girl," you said to him, "I hope they turn out to be just like you— kind and loving, and always willing to help anyone who needs them... even if the thing they need help with is kind of awkward." Like pussy-waxing, you thought. "You know that's why I fell in love with you in the first place, right?"

He blushed, which he'd always been prone to doing. "You're too nice to me," he said. "I just didn't want to hurt you— I wasn't going to tell you I couldn't do it without at least trying first."

"That's why you're a perfect husband, Luke... and it's why you're going to be a perfect dad, too."

You put your arms around him after that, and drew him in as closely as you could to give him a tight squeeze. He hugged you back, and went on to whisper something into your ear... something about heading to the bedroom, for the purpose of more thoroughly checking his work.

With a giggle, you nodded emphatically, and watched as he stood up. Once he'd deftly helped you to your feet, you sauntered off together hand-in-hand, down the hallway and in the direction of your favourite place to spend time together.

All of your 'spending time' together might have been the very reason you couldn't wax your own pussy today... however, not being able to see between your own legs for a few months was a tiny sacrifice, given all of the wonderful things that came with being tied to somebody as kind and generous as Luke.

[novelconcepts]

fic: having so much fun all alone (i wanna let somebody know)

Control never seems so important until it’s being slowly, inexorably stripped away. Jamie finds she’s been thinking about this concept more and more as the days go by, and it’s almost fascinating. It interests her, thinking about the concept of control--not the control of another person, but control of the self. Of a person’s own body, own mind, own future. 

Control had seemed a simple thing before Dani, so absent from her childhood that Jamie taught herself to seek it out the minute she had the option. It didn’t always go well. There is a fine line between wanting control over a situation and the desperate desire to feel something, anything; it had taken her too long to discover the difference. Jail time had impacted the idea something fierce, reducing the notion of control from a childish impulse toward what I want, when I want it to something smaller. Easier to fit in the palm of her hand. Control became, instead, the simplicity of keeping herself to herself. 

People can’t control you if they don’t understand you, she’d reasoned. People can’t control what you do, say, want, if you never let them in. And, to a point, it had worked. Jamie’s adult life became marked by a certain kind of quiet freedom, an awareness of her own limits. She learned to keep to herself. She learned to give no part of herself away.

And then Dani had happened. Dani, whose own relationship with control was tenuous at best. Dani, whose life up until this point had been very much marked by other people’s control over her body, her dreams, her right to love.

Jamie hadn’t meant to give her control, just as Dani hadn’t meant to ask it of her. There had been no part of the exchange intended for pain, for holding one another hostage--and Jamie knows that is the only reason it happened at all. The only reason either of them--two people so used to the shackles of other people’s expectations--were willing to let the dance begin. This mutual understanding that control is only granted so lovingly because the other person will not abuse the privilege, will not turn their grasp into a cuff. 

It hadn’t been simple, exactly, so much as natural. Give and take. Dani’s ghosts for Jamie’s regrets; Jamie’s scars for Dani’s still-bleeding wounds. In a way, Jamie thinks, the idea of passing control over their life together back and forth was appealing because it was the first time either of them understood how to communicate. The first time Dani had ever learned how to speak her needs in someone else’s space; the first time Jamie had ever thought someone might actually be listening in return. Not simple. Not easy. Organic, though--very much that. 

It has been...an evolution, certainly. There are things Dani is carrying Jamie can’t take off her shoulders--things Dani bears with the stoic acceptance of one already a little bit gone. Jamie tries not to think about it that way, tries not to look into Dani’s eyes and think, Not quite the woman I met. She’s in there, she’s still looking back at me, but there’s something else, too. 

Dani thinks that something else will, one day, supersede her. Will, one day, take the wheel in a way Dani will not be able to ward off. 

Dani thinks, someday, the question of control will have nothing at all to do with their relationship, with the bond built so carefully and so firmly between them, but rather to do with the thing in the mirror. She says as much to Jamie some nights, her hand tangled in Jamie’s hair, her breathing soft and steady against Jamie’s skin. Says, in a voice so weary, Jamie can’t bear it: “I don’t know what I’ll do, then. I don’t know what will be left of me when she wakes.”

Jamie can only take her hand in these moments, the ones she knows will pass by morning--the ones Dani will pretend not to remember by the end of the week. It’s still early-days, she tells herself, bringing Dani’s fingers to her lips as she did in a bedroom across an ocean. It’s still new, and fresh, and there’s nothing saying it will happen at all.

One day at a time.

In the meantime, there are other thoughts of control. Thoughts she finds considerably more pleasurable, considerably more safe. Thoughts of what Dani truly needs some days, to remind her who is still in the driver’s seat of her life. 

Jamie is more than happy to help. 

***

The day has not been bad so much as long, and Jamie finds herself dragging home with a gently thrumming headache. It’s sometimes still more than she can wrap her head around: the shop, where the hours are her own to set, and the apartment, where every inch of space is open to her, and Dani, who fits into both places so perfectly, Jamie has trouble thinking back to a time without her. The world they’ve built together is warm, constantly waiting to welcome her home, and Jamie doesn’t know if she deserves it. Doesn’t know if there is such a thing as deserve. She knows only that she is lucky.

And that even the luckiest soul needs a break. 

“Medicine,” Dani had advised, her expression concerned as Jamie prepared to leave the shop. “A hot shower. Uh. A cold compress.”

“Be fine,” Jamie murmured, glancing around for customers. Not a soul to be found, she pressed a kiss lightly to Dani’s lips. “Shame you can’t join me. Can think of one thing that tends to help nice and quick.”

Dani’s face lit with visible warmth, as Jamie had known it would. “I--you--”

“Easy,” Jamie said, kissing her again. “I’m only teasing, Poppins.”

“Right,” Dani said, a bit hoarsely, her arm sliding instinctively around Jamie’s waist. “Exactly. Rude to tease when I’m already worried for your health.”

“My health’ll be just fine as soon as I get home and into bed,” Jamie told her. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll just, ah, handle it myself?”

“Tease,” Dani repeated in a low, fervent whisper, even as the bell above the door chimed. Jamie tipped her a wink. 

It’s always fun making Dani turn new colors, but she hadn’t been kidding--about the headache or the proposed solution. Little aggravations tend to slip away to nothing with Dani present, Dani’s hands searching her skin, Dani kissing her until she forgets any minor aches or pains. Of course, until they hire additional staff, Dani can’t really afford to join her in the middle of the afternoon just because she’s Jamie’s favorite form of migraine therapy. 

Not so bad, anyway, she thinks, even as she takes Dani’s advice piece by piece in the empty apartment. Medicine, a nice tall glass of water, a shower so long it ceases to be productively hot midway through. She stands with her face against the comparatively-cool tile, trying not to think of Dani’s expression as she’d said tease under her breath, Dani’s grip on her shirt threatening to remain as Jamie slipped out from behind the counter. 

Should just sleep, she thinks, changing into shorts and one of Dani’s shirts. Sleep it off, sure. Better for the whole system. She’ll just lay down for an hour or two, letting the cool of the sheets soothe the warmth of her skin as she remembers the mingled longing and worry in Dani’s face as she’d walked away. Just close her eyes, letting the steady pound in her temples lull her...lull her...

“Fuck,” she mutters, rolling onto her stomach and pressing her face into Dani’s pillow. What does it matter; anything that’ll banish this throb is worth a shot, and anyway, there’s something about the way Dani had watched her go she can’t erase. Something about the way Dani’s lips had lifted ever so slightly, the way they do when Dani wants nothing more than to remind Jamie how glad she is--how glad she’ll always be--that Jamie stayed in her life. 

Just take care of it, she tells herself with the air of brushing her hands clean. The idea of Dani watching her, the idea of Dani missing her, is too strong to ignore. Just Jamie’s luck, to be the having the sort of day where a headache and a painfully strong desire to bring Dani to bed collide. 

She realizes belatedly her hips are already moving without the rest of her noticing, rocking slowly against the mattress, and she sighs. Won't be enough. Won’t be nearly what it would with Dani beneath her, dragging her nails down Jamie’s back, a thigh flexing between Jamie’s legs. Still--the image isn’t nothing. Dani’s pillow smells of her shampoo, the one Jamie never uses because it should be Dani’s, should remind her of Dani whenever Dani isn’t around. She presses her face against it now, lips parted in a sigh, gripping the sheets in loose fingers. 

She’d intended to be quick and dirty with it, a true resolution followed by actual sleep, but her body has other opinions on the matter. Her body, it seems, wants full control of the situation--wants her full attention on the idea of Dani thinking of her at the shop. Dani, moving among the arrangements, picking flowers, chatting with strangers, all the while thinking of Jamie here. Of Jamie having mentioned a hot shower. Of Jamie beneath the spray, one hand sliding down her breasts, the other between her legs. 

Dani, thinking of her for the next hour, her breath coming in sharp little pants she’ll try to hide behind her smile. Dani, pressing her hips furtively against the counter in the empty shop, closing her eyes for a moment and wishing she could have followed Jamie home. 

This’ll do it. Her grip tightens on the sheets, her legs spreading slightly. It’s all too easy to imagine Dani going slightly mad, working faster in an effort to distract herself. Easy to imagine Dani’s hands pushing back her hair the way she does when she’s most frustrated--or when she’s astride Jamie, rolling her hips to match Jamie’s pace. She breathes through the image, the perfect memory of the last time Dani had, in the middle of a movie, climbed into Jamie’s lap and kissed her like she’d been wanting to do so for hours.

Why wait? Jamie had laughed, and Dani had given a happy breathy sigh against her lips. 

It’s better with the anticipation, don’t you think?

“Yes,” Jamie mumbles into the pillow now. The anticipation, that’s the trick of it. Can’t go straight for the thing, can’t just let her hand slide between shorts and skin like she wants. If Dani can’t have her at work, Jamie ought to be polite enough to hold herself out of reach here, too. 

Already, she can feel the headache ebbing away, replaced by the adrenaline of pure desire. She presses herself against the mattress, enjoying the way the seam of her shorts moves against slick skin. She wonders, dimly, how long she could keep this up--how long she could hold herself in this limbo, biting down on Dani’s pillow to keep quiet, rocking at this leisurely pace. Could she do it until Dani gets home? Could this be how she greets a Dani pent-up from missing her: holding what she wants at arm’s length just until Dani comes to check in on her?

The idea nearly makes her shudder: Dani, stepping into the room just in time to catch her like this, rutting against the mattress and sighing Dani’s name. Dani, walking in just in time to watch her come apart. 

Control, she thinks, forcing her speeding hips to slow again. Forcing herself to wait until she’s confident she won’t lose her patience, take a hand off the sheets, press up and in until she’s--

“Couldn’t wait for me at all?” Dani asks, and Jamie gives a leap of guilty surprise, twisting to look over her shoulder. Dani is, in fact, leaning in the doorway. Dani is, in fact, looking at her exactly as she’d been imagining: her eyes dancing, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Jamie presses her burning face against the pillow, closing her eyes. 

“I--hi.”

“Hi,” Dani says. She’s still just standing there, Jamie senses, in her jacket and boots. Just watching Jamie try to smother mild embarrassment on Dani’s side of the bed. “Oh, don’t stop on my account.”

“I wasn’t--” Oh, there’s no bloody point. “Headache’s gone.”

“Good,” Dani says mildly. “Then I won’t feel bad about what I’m about to do.”

Jamie darts another look over her shoulder, curious despite the mortification sending ripples through her arousal. “Why do I get the feeling I’m in trouble?”

“Not trouble.” Dani slips out of her coat like this is a perfectly normal conversation. Like there’s nothing out of the ordinary at all going on. She leans against the wall, removing her boots with the casual disinterest of a woman who has not just walked in on Jamie grinding against their bed. 

“Dunno if I believe you,” Jamie says, a bit breathlessly. Dani smiles. 

“What’s not to believe? You told me exactly what you were heading home to do...and, if you didn’t happen to do it fast enough, well...”

Fuck, thinks Jamie, her heart rate--which has not precisely calmed since Dani’s arrival--ratcheting back to full speed. She rolls onto her back, sits up, aware of the throbbing heat between her legs even as she pulls the sheets higher. 

“Dani...”

“Mm?” Dani is still moving with the grace of someone in absolutely no hurry to explain herself. As Jamie watches, she removes her earrings, sets them in a bowl on her dresser. Removes her watch, lays it beside the bowl. Reaches up to unbind the tie she must have used in Jamie’s absence, irritated with her hair falling into her eyes as she worked. 

“Dani, are you--”

“I’m wondering,” Dani says, “why you didn’t work harder at it.”

Jamie’s mouth is suddenly very dry. “Work...harder?”

“If you wanted to take care of it yourself,” Dani says. She’s walking closer now, almost strolling; Jamie draws in a breath, her hands bunching around the sheet. There’s something about Dani this calm, Dani moving with this kind of easy indolence, that makes her stomach do funny things. This version of Dani is one no one else ever sees. This version of Dani comes out with purpose. 

Usually a very particular purpose.

She’s climbing onto the bed now, sliding under the sheet to recline against Jamie’s side of the headboard. Her expression is cool, but there’s a light in her eyes Jamie couldn’t miss even with that headache still thrashing away, a certain bright hunger specific to this room, this sort of situation, Jamie. 

“So, I’m thinking, if you didn’t want to take care of it enough to do it fast,” Dani says, patiently parsing it out as she adjusts Jamie’s pillows behind her back, smooths her hands across the sheet over her lap, “there was a reason, right? You always have reasons, Jamie.”

She’s right, Jamie thinks with helpless attraction. Even now, playing whatever thrilling little game Dani has cooked up since arriving home, Dani understands her. Understands, maybe, more than Jamie even realized in this particular situation.

“I’m thinking about it,” Dani says, folding the sheet down once--again--pulling it down the bed until it’s barely covering either of them at all. “And the most I can come up with is...you wanted me here for it. Is that about right?”

Jamie grins, though her skin prickles in the chill of the air-conditioned room. “Always, Poppins.”

Dani nods, making a show of it, like there isn’t a fire burning low in her belly just now. Like she didn’t catch Jamie in the act and want to join her. Like her eyes aren’t blazing with that exact desire just now, pupils blown wide, dragging down Jamie’s body to drink her in. 

“You wanted me to watch.”

“Uh huh,” Jamie says, because whether it was true at the start doesn’t matter; it’s true now. “Or, y’know--since you’re here. Can always join in.”

Dani seems to consider it. One hand trails up Jamie’s thigh, toying lightly with the hem of her shorts. Jamie moves to twist at the waist, to shift into Dani’s lap and kiss her lips--and Dani’s hand rises, catching her by the front of her t-shirt. 

“You wanted me to watch,” she says, leaning in until the words are tracing Jamie’s lips. She does not, Jamie notes with a low groan of frustration, actually make contact. “So. Show me.”

Jamie swallows. “I--uh--just--”

“Here,” Dani adds, spreading her legs. She pats the mattress, a signal for Jamie to settle between them and lean back against her chest. Jamie draws a ragged breath. 

“Really think this could go faster if you just let me help you out of those clothes.”

“Think you’re right,” Dani agrees, and gives the mattress another firm pat. Jamie moves, dreamlike, where she’s been directed. Sits back, her hands uncertain of where to land. 

“Dani, honestly, I want--”

“You had a whole hour,” Dani says, “to get what you wanted. Now it’s my turn.”

Fuck, Jamie thinks again, a fresh surge of need clenching in her stomach. She turns her head, leans until she can see Dani’s expression clearly. 

“Maybe I didn’t start right away. Maybe I’d only been at it a minute.”

“You weren’t.” Dani smiles, the sort of smile she tends to wear immediately before kneeling between Jamie’s legs and offering a thorough distraction from their nightly routine. “I was there a while before you noticed.”

“And you didn’t speak up?” Years together, Jamie thinks. Years together, with no shortage of good sex between them, but this side of Dani is special. This side of Dani, the one perfectly in control of a situation, is to be cherished. “Just stood there, huh? Watched the show?”

“Thought you’d finish fast,” Dani says. She’s got Jamie’s right hand in her own, turning it over to inspect Jamie’s fingers, to trace a nail down Jamie’s palm. “Thought I’d come in just in time for the grand finale. But then I saw your hands.”

“What about them?” There’s challenge in her voice, pushing up against Dani’s calm. It’s always best this way, giving Dani a bit of resistance before she surrenders. Dani scratches a little harder, drawing a thin red line to match the ones grooved into Jamie’s palm. 

“You weren’t using them. You weren’t using anything. I thought that was interesting. Why not touch yourself, if you really wanted to take care of things properly?”

Jamie is struggling to keep her breath, struggling to keep from leaning that last little bit to press her mouth to Dani’s neck. That, she senses, is not the right move. That, she senses, will get her in trouble--and she’d really rather see where this is going. 

“I realized,” Dani is saying, turning Jamie’s hand over and mapping her knuckles with slow, tracing circles. “You were actually trying to make it last. Trying to go as slowly as you possibly could. Driving yourself crazy, I bet.”

“Yes,” Jamie says, unable to stop herself. She pushes back, aware of Dani’s body, of how warm she is. 

“I’m curious,” Dani says, applying light pressure to Jamie’s hand, steering it toward Jamie’s body. “How long do you think you can last?”

“Dani--”

“Only...if you want me to watch...” Dani smiles again, the smile that says she’d like nothing better than to drive Jamie out of her mind. “I really think I want a show.”

She’s dragging Jamie’s hand slowly down her own breasts, tracing down her taut stomach, pausing at the waistband of her shorts. Jamie holds her breath, waiting for Dani to slide with her beneath the band, waiting for Dani to use her hand as she sees fit--but Dani presses her farther down, curling around Jamie’s fingers as they cup together between Jamie’s legs over the loose material. And then she’s gone, leaving Jamie in place, her hand moving to rest on Jamie’s hip.

“Go on,” she says against Jamie’s ear, her free hand shifting Jamie’s hair aside so her lips can graze skin. “Show me.”

Jamie groans, letting the palm of her hand press hard against the heat pulsing through her shorts. She moves her hips, aware of the need she’s been cultivating for far too long already--

“Slowly,” Dani says into her ear. “You go until I say you’ve had enough.”

Jamie slumps back against her, boneless, a small noise escaping her lips. “I--fuck--rules?”

Dani gives the ridge of her ear a gentle nip, the barest scrape of her teeth. Jamie shivers. “That’s it. Go slow. Make all the noise you need, but remember: you are done when I say you’re done.”

Control, thinks Jamie, understanding, and knowing this is something Dani needs as much as she does. She licks her lips, drags her hand slowly against the front of her shorts. It would be so easy to rebel, so easy to wrench back from Dani what has been given to her--she could make herself come in no time at all, after all this. 

She turns her head, finds Dani watching her face with avid interest. She closes her eyes. 

“Slow,” she repeats, a promise. Her fingers slide across the soft material, tracing as though she has all the time in the world. Dani’s chin rests on her shoulder, her lips grazing through Jamie’s shirt once before she settles in. 

“Oh, and Jamie? Make it good.”

Jamie strangles another groan, too aware that letting herself go this early will have dire consequences. She cups lightly, the heel of her hand pushing against painfully throbbing nerves. Her fingers continue their soft work, index trailing down, circling where it would much rather be pressing in. 

“Good,” Dani says softly. She slides an arm around Jamie, spreading her hand low on her stomach, her eyes devouring Jamie’s tentative progress. Jamie leans her head back, breathing shallowly, trying to think desperately of flowers, of buds in bloom, of open petals and--

Nope, she thinks hastily, as her hips give a particularly sharp jerk. She pauses, closing her eyes, searching for solid ground before she can tumble. 

“Very good,” Dani adds, sounding impressed. “See, you’re doing great already.”

“Want you,” Jamie mutters. Dani gives her ear another nip. 

“Show me, then.”

It’s a balancing act, Jamie finds, letting her hips set a slow rhythm against the flex of her hand. A nice, easy balancing act, with her head braced back against Dani’s shoulder, every inhalation filling her senses with the scent of Dani, the push-pull of Dani drawing breath against her back, the trace of Dani’s fingernails across her stomach. A nice, easy, not-at-all-breaking-her balancing act. 

“I think you’re ready to step it up,” Dani says. Jamie, who has been trying to ride the friction of her own palm as minimally as she can stand, gives her a searching look. “I think it’s too easy on you. I think you need more.”

“More,” Jamie repeats. Dani’s hand is slinking lower again, grasping the band of Jamie’s shorts and lifting. Her free hand covers Jamie’s, pressing with sudden strength once between Jamie’s legs. “Fuck, Dani.”

“Not quite yet,” Dani says pleasantly, that too-nice voice she uses when she’s actively working to drive Jamie up the wall. It’s more effective than it has any right to be, Jamie thinks, though she's smiling, her body already desperate. 

She watches, her muscles loose to allow Dani full control, as Dani slides their joined hands higher, tucks Jamie’s hand into her shorts. Her fingers remain tight around the waistband, pulling it aloft and down until she gives herself a proper view of exactly where Jamie’s fingers rest. 

“There,” Dani says with dangerous pleasure. “Keep going.”

Jamie wants to twist, wants to capture her lips in a hard, brazen kiss. Instead, she lets her fingers resume their work--pressing in slow, careful circles against herself. She can hear the slick slide, the soft wet sound of skin on skin, and her stomach clenches with the near-painful urge to finish. She pauses. 

“Don’t think I told you to stop,” Dani says. Jamie bites down hard on her own lip. Her wrist turns, her fingers rubbing lightly--then harder, her desire sparking hard against Dani’s command. She works the throbbing little bundle of nerves between two fingers, her breath sharp, her free hand searching out Dani’s thigh to dig her nails into denim. 

“Fuck--Dani--I can’t--”

“Can,” Dani corrects. “So good, Jamie. You’re doing so well. Show me how much you can take.”

The words are low, calm, but Dani’s body is beginning to betray her, too; Jamie can feel the way her fingers are driving into Jamie’s hip, can see the tremble in the hand pulling at the shorts. Most of all, she can feel Dani beginning to rock slowly against her, her hips pushing up into Jamie in search of friction of her own. 

“Could be touching you,” Jamie hisses, urged into a better station of control simply by the knowledge Dani wants her to give in. “Could be three fingers deep by now, giving you--”

“You’re giving me exactly what I need,” Dani breathes. Jamie hears her own words coil into a soft moan, her hips beginning to buck. Dani’s fingers squeeze around her hipbone, dragging sharp red marks under the pulled-aside waistband. “Ride it out. Do what I tell you.”

Jamie grits her teeth, every muscle in her body tightening against the urge to lose control. Her hand is quickening, her fingers stroking and slipping and pressing until she’s certain she’s going to break. The friction is too much, every circle drawn tight around herself snapping a little more self-restraint. 

“Longer,” Dani whispers into her ear. She wraps her lips around Jamie’s earlobe, sucking hard enough for Jamie’s eyes to roll back. “Don’t give up on me yet.”

“Please,” Jamie hears herself whine, even as she obediently increases the pressure. “Please, I can’t--”

“Faster,” Dani says. “Come on, be good, be good for me, you’re so--”

She makes a noise, low and desperate, a spark of electricity straight to Jamie’s core. She’s grinding herself against Jamie, her hand gripping hard to Jamie’s hip for purchase. Jamie rubs faster, feeling as though she will lose this game, she will certainly not make it much further, and finding she doesn’t actually care as long as Dani is holding her this way. 

She loses herself in Dani’s voice, Dani saying with the rapid-fire recklessness of staggering toward the edge herself, “Inside. Inside, I want to see--” Dani, pulling the shorts sharply down now, allowing Jamie to spread for herself, watching as Jamie slides two fingers deep, pressing hard with the heel of her hand. 

“So good,” Dani mutters, “so good. Keep going. Make it last. It’s my mouth, imagine it’s my mouth, my tongue you’re riding, god, Jamie--”

Control, thinks Jamie, aware she’s losing it fast, aware there is little left that her body can possibly take even as Dani bites down hard on her shoulder. Imagine, Dani had said, like she isn’t right there, like she couldn’t be shifting Jamie out of her lap, sliding down her body, replacing Jamie’s hand with long, slow strokes of her tongue. 

But that isn’t what Dani wants. This is what Dani wants, to hold Jamie, to watch her finish the work she started wishing Dani could see. Dani knows all too well what this is doing to her; she can feel it in the cant of Dani’s hips, hear it in the sound she’s muffling against Jamie’s shirt. 

“Tell me,” she begs, as her muscles clench around her thrusting fingers. “Tell me, I won’t--I won’t until you--”

“How much,” Dani asks, her voice shaking with effort. “How much do you want it?”

Jamie curses, straining away from the edge. “You know,” she pants. “You know I--”

“How much,” Dani says directly into her ear, her hands digging into Jamie’s hips, “did you want it to be me all along?”

“Always,” Jamie breathes, the word a high, helpless plea. “Always, fuck, from the very start. Please, please, I--it’s you--it’s you--”

“Yes,” Dani agrees. “Show me how it feels.”

Jamie adds a third finger on yes, allowing her body at last to clench and shudder. It’s Dani, she thinks, turning her head and muffling her ecstatic cry against Dani’s neck. She can feel Dani’s grip tightening, pulling at her as Dani spreads further, rocks with sharp, needy thrusts while Jamie’s body chases the height of her orgasm. 

It’s Dani, she thinks again, Dani pushing in deep, Dani riding it out, Dani in control, this is all for--all for--

And then there is no thought at all, nothing but Dani crying out as she squeezes a hand over Jamie’s and feels for herself what she’s done. Nothing left but Dani’s name on her lips as Jamie arches, eyes closed, feeling very much as though she is no longer in possession of a body at all. 

She slumps against Dani, breath coming in short waves, her head clear of anything except the residual electricity from Dani’s fingers threading through her own. She exhales, rolling her eyes to watch Dani’s face. 

“Good show?”

Dani makes a muffled sound a bit like a whimper, her hips still twitching as though out of her control. Jamie shifts with some effort, breaking contact, leaving her rocking against nothing at all.

“You’re still hanging on? Well. That won't do.”

She tugs at Dani’s shirt, catching her in a hard kiss that seems only to draw Dani’s urgency higher. Dani’s hands are scrambling to pull Jamie back into her lap, and Jamie allows herself to be positioned. She lowers herself with a groan, loving the dark marks she’s leaving behind on Dani’s jeans as she presses flat against her tense thigh. 

“Ride it with me,” she insists, pushing her own knee hard between Dani’s legs. Dani’s head thumps back against the headboard, her hand anchored at Jamie’s back, watching with glazed eyes as Jamie provides friction to both of them with each rough grind. 

It’s a graceless thing, and yet, perfectly matched--Dani gripping at her shirt, Dani pushing up into her as she rocks down, and, this time, Jamie finds the force shattering. She’s wrapped around Dani, hands clawing into Dani’s hair, down her back, hips pumping, even as she feels Dani begin the age-old sign of falling apart: Dani, repeating her name as an endless mantra, over and over. 

Control, she thinks, as she’s losing the last of it all over again, as Dani is joining her with a long, shuddering kiss. What little good it does, when it is held too tightly. What little grace it offers, when not shared. 

“I should, ah, call next time?” she breathes as Dani wraps both arms around her, squirming down the bed until they're lying in a sweaty heap. “Maybe just...set up in the back and wait for you to join me?”

Dani laughs. “If you did that, we’d never leave.”

“Perfectly content with never leaving here, either, if that’s how we’re going to play it.” Jamie leans back, reaching down to brush her fingers across the ruined leg of Dani’s jeans. “Made a mess of you.”

“It was mutual,” Dani teases. She closes her eyes, draws in a long breath that turns to a yawn. “How is your head, for real?”

“Good as new. All beasts banished back to whence they came.” Jamie winces, peering at Dani’s face for sign of shutdown, but Dani’s expression is placid. 

“Good. I still think you should start with medicine.”

“Took medicine!” Jamie protests. “Did all the goddamn tricks. Not my fault this works best.”

“I think you just say that,” Dani says, “to get me naked.”

“Well, not doing a good goddamn job of it, am I?” Jamie sits up, gesturing broadly. “Still wearing every last fucking stitch.”

“Mm,” Dani agrees. “Maybe you should...do something about that?”

Jamie is still laughing when Dani pushes her onto her stomach, stretching out almost flush against her back. Her breath catches, something about the press of denim against her bare legs, the way Dani’s sliding the t-shirt Jamie stole from her side of the closet up her back making her feel deliciously undone. The idea of Dani, fully-dressed, pressing her half-naked body into the mattress draws a long shudder through her. 

“Unless you’re tired,” Dani adds, her hand curling around Jamie’s hips, sliding teasingly toward soaked, swollen skin. Jamie groans into the pillow, gripping the sheets in one hand, reaching back for a grasp on Dani’s jeans with the other. Dani’s hand, pushed between damp sheets and sticky skin, strokes her once, testing. She kisses the back of Jamie’s neck, rolling her tongue over the chain of Jamie’s necklace, drawing it between her teeth.  

“This is,” Jamie pants, even as Dani is playing her exactly as she’d watched Jamie work herself over, “exceptionally unbalanced.”

“Then do something about it,” Dani teases, kissing along her shoulder. Jamie, somehow, finds herself quite without the will to fight back. There is nowhere she’d rather be than angling herself toward Dani’s hand, seeking the firm, rough stroke of Dani’s fingers. 

Tonight, she reasons, is Dani’s turn. She’ll turn the tables some other time, when Dani isn’t itching for this exact thing, this exquisite dynamic: when the ability Jamie gives her to tell Jamie exactly what to do, exactly what she needs of her, isn’t the most important gift she could grant. 

Later, she’ll pin Dani to the wall or the counter, tease her until Dani is wild for her. It’s only fair, and Jamie knows it won’t take long at all for the power to change hands again when it’s done. 

“Stay with me,” Dani commands, rocking against Jamie with one authoritative motion even as her fingers sink deep and Jamie gasps. 

“Always,” she promises, feeling luckier than she could possibly explain.  

[1zashreena1]

Comfort Food

Taco/Female oc (plus size)

Please have this addled fever dream drabble

No porn, only soft. I can't breathe deeply enough to pant thru smut rn.

Gif credit @girlpornparadise

The knock wakes you up. You blink blearily around the little efficiency apartment while trying to remember which way is up. The tv is still on, it's just the little smart tv menu, so whatever voice you're hearing is definitely outside. 

It's also definitely male. 

Undeniably male. A soft rasp. Not so low as to be intimidating, but certainly intriguing.

Come to think of it, the grandma that you rented this teeny over-the-garage apartment from did say that she had a son who worked entirely too much. His own business.  Or something.

Your pajama pants aren't exactly clean, per se, but you're clothed, so it counts. He knocks again just as you get to the lock and slide the chained bolt back. The door swings open with its distinctive creeeeeeeeee-yip and…

Yeah. 

That is.

That is A MAN.

Holy jesus fuckin christ, Mary, and Abraham, too. What in the actual fuck.

First off, he's wearing flip flops. That should not be attractive. And plaid pajama pants. Also, categorically not sexy. A dark colored t shirt, the v-neck is displaying an impressive amount of ink in the form of neck tats that you have never before wanted to lick on a man. But above that is an absolutely gorgeous face with a chiseled jaw, full lips, salt and pepper stubble, high cheekbones, a long, straight nose, dark, bottomless eyes, and naturally perfect eyebrows. All set within tan skin and fetching laugh lines under a riot of black curls.

I am so fucked. 

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

"Hey, uh, I'm, I'm Taco, Marguerite's son. She said she hasn't seen you in a few days, thought you might be sick, so I made some soup." That delicious rasp sounds about as confused as you are. He thrusts the tupperware container at you with a gentle sloshing (Good grief, that must be original '70s) and you stare rudely.

His hands are fucking huge.

Your brain immediately supplies thoughts of finally meeting a man whose hands are big enough to cup your boobs. No! The nails are really short, but it's obvious he does manual labor. Taco's forearms are rippling with muscle and your fever addled libido is fascinated. Beyond that are stupidly broad shoulders--

And we're right back to the neck tats. 

"Hi," you croak unpleasantly with a wince. Hell, even Taco winces. Gamely, you push onward, "Sorry, I sound like shit. Not the best way to meet someone."

Taco takes in your bedraggled hair and baggy pajamas with a not so suppressed smirk, although compassion shimmers in those chocolate eyes. Oh no, please not with the bottomless brown eyes. He rumbles soothingly, "Nah, you're fine. Everybody gets sick, right?"

The soup is still hot and it feels good enough that you clutch it to your chest. It also feels good to have someone care for you. As if he can read your mind, Taco asks, "You alone out here? Mama said you moved here from way out east."

Coming from virtually anyone else this question would be highly suspect. Despite his hulking presence and intimidating ink, Taco feels oddly safe. Oh, he could definitely fuck somebody up, but it wouldn't be you. You're nodding before you realize it, "Yeah. I had to get away. Like, really far away."

Anything else is cut off by a coughing fit that doubles you over. Tears drip onto your tie dyed pants while you gasp for air. Taco takes the container back with his left hand while the right lands on your back. The lack of oxygen results in the floor magically elevating itself toward your face, until a strong arm wraps around your middle. 

"Hey, easy there. I got you." The reassurance is growled directly into your ear and how the hell can your nipples be so alert when you're, like, dying? Taco proceeds to pick you up and gently drop your limp form on the loveseat about five feet to the left. The old furniture sags when he sits, too, but the massive hand rubbing your back is a great distraction from worrying about if the flowered monstrosity might collapse. 

"Sorry," your voice sounds like you just survived a horror movie, two hours of screaming included. Taco is still rubbing your back and it feels really nice. He smells nice, too, like coffee and fabric softener. Are you snuggled into that mysteriously broad chest? Yep.

"While I certainly don't mind holding a beautiful woman," His chuckle vibrates beneath your palms (When did you start groping him? Why the fuck does he have such magnificent pecs?) Taco continues, "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable. I mean, we literally just met."

Oh shit, he's a gentleman, too?? You are so screwed.

"Uh, yeah, true. Sorry. And thank you. For the soup, and, you know, the whole picking me up." Looking up proves nearly fatal, those brown eyes are soft and warm. The laugh lines and sprinkling of silver at his temples only make him all the more handsome. You feel like he could be legitimately dangerous, but only in a fierce protector way.

"So, um. Look, I'm just downstairs, round the back if you need anything. More soup, tissues, another hug from a virtual stranger, whatevs." He shoots you a wink and then stands to go to the door. You can't help but laugh, he's not wrong.

"I might just take you up on that." Are you seriously flirting with a nasty head cold? But, those shoulders… 

His voice is soft as he steps outside and closes the door behind him, "Get some rest, chiquita."

---------- 

The soup is really fucking good.

[peachy-inserts]

kageyama falling for someone/relationship hcs

request: hello!! so apparently ur taking haikyuu requests now so if it's not too troublesome, how abt some kageyama bf headcanons? thank you!! 😊

warnings: cursing

a/n: first haikyuu post, tysm! i hope this is ic for him, since its our first shot at this! i actually fell in love w him a little writing these, i didnt like him all that much before but now im realizing just how much of a sweetie he can really be aww (ik this just said bf hcs, but im adding it to our series!) long post, more under the cut

Kageyama is stubborn, he’s slow to come around to his own senses whenever he’s crushing one someone. It takes a good while for him to finally recognize what his own feelings are, and when he does it makes him sick. He’d be in denial for a while before he finally just couldn’t take it anymore and decided to bluntly ask you out

In the meantime, he becomes sort of stand offish with you. He wants to do nice things for you, but he just feels so silly doing it, he gets clammy, his palms are sweaty, and he can’t stop tripping over his own words

You make the blood rush to his face and the tips of his ears burn a bright red that is singed forever in his memory, who gave you the right to do that? He’s Tobio Kageyama, someone who doesn’t rely on others, who’s always sure of himself, and can’t be influenced by someone else’s opinions

He’s so blunt and nervous that it’s probably common knowledge by now to the rest of the Karasuno team that he has a massive crush on you, and the more he tries to deny it, the more he’s teased (by Sugawara especially, who eventually gets so sick of his love sick dazes that he bullies him into asking you out before he’s even considered it a possibility)

You may not even realize it yourself, though, with the way that he acts around you. It’s almost as if he’s pulling your hair, teasing you and then running off, but it’s not on purpose. He’s.. doing his best, but it certainly doesn’t come off that way. He only hopes that you aren’t offended by him, as most people seem to be

One of the major things holding him back is his fear of abandonment, his reputation being of no help in that. Even if you do show interest in him, he convinces himself that it’s only casual small talk, only a fabricated smile you use to make him so flustered that he excuses himself to finally leave you alone. Why would anybody ever want him? He’s cold, blunt, and clueless. He doesn’t really bring much to the table in a relationship, right?

So when he does finally ask you out, standing outside of the school just after class has let out for the day and tugging at the hems of his practice clothes all while trying not to bite his own tongue while he stutters, it comes as a bit of a shock to you

Is this some sort of prank?

You’re relieved, albeit confused, to know that he doesn’t actually hate you and in fact returns your feelings, and happily accept his confession to which he excitedly whoops and then runs off towards the gym, glad that it’s finally over with, before realizing just how rude of him that was

You haven’t moved an inch, completely bewildered by the event that seemed to have played out in front of you, when he comes back panting and asks you out on a date. Smooth, Kags…

Your date is, well, interesting. He’s super excited, nervous, and fucking terrified. He wants to vomit but he also kind of wants to hold your hand? Ugh, this sucks. And people just do this for fun? He fell for one person and feels as if his entire life has been turned upside down. This is your fault!

Once you officially start going out, he gets a little full of himself and despite how awkward he still is around you, he wastes literally no time whatsoever in rubbing it in Hinata’s face. He can’t do anything with Kageyama bringing up the fact that he has a s/o now and the red head still doesn’t

Smack him.

Past the beginning stages, once you’re established a stable and comfortable relationship with him, things are a lot different

While he’s himself around you, witty, sarcastic, and a little bit careless, he also feels the need to constantly impress you. He can’t start slacking; what if you get bored of him and leave him? He should always be striving to be the very best boyfriend he can be, even if he stumbles a few times on his never ending climb upward

He’s not super open to you about his feelings, but tries to make up for it in doing smaller things that he knows would mean a lot to him were they to come from you. He’ll get an extra snack at the vending machine, try and carry your bag whether you’re at school our out together, and listen to every song you send him (when you recommend music to him, he always teases you that it’s awful or makes his ears bleed, but he adds it to a playlist of songs that remind him of you and plays it whenever you’re around as a subtle way of letting you know it’s special to him, that he really does care. He’s not actually blowing you off)

Kageyama sees a Pusheen keychain set after practice one day, and even though it’s not something he’d ever buy for himself, he purchases the set and gives you the other half so you match. It’s so cute, and he turns beet red when somebody sees it attached to his bag one day and asks him about it. He tells them that you’re the one that bought it and he just didn’t wanna tell you no

Wow, he must be so caring, and they roll their eyes 

He’s not big into PDA, but he doesn’t mind holding your hand when you walk together or giving you a quick peck on the forehead as a goodbye at the end of the day when you’re forced to part ways. He’s not that shy to show people whose you are >:)

As for jealousy… yikes. He could stand to be put into his place every once in a while, as he tends to snap at people and go completely over the top for small and petty reasons, often getting caught up in his own insecure and blinding rage that he forgets what even set him off in the first place

Whenever you come to his games, he’s completely thrown off. He’s not used to people showing up and cheering for him, and he gets so nervous that he’ll mess up in front of you that he wastes time trying to focus on impressing you and throws himself to off

He loves and you wanna support him, but… maybe it’s best if you just make up an excuse and send him off with a good luck charm

By the way, if you do happen to make him a good luck charm then he is going to carry it in his pockets for an eternity, not only at games but just in his day to day life, except for on days he gets to spend with you. He doesn’t need luck when you’re there, because he’s already struck gold

[thisfoolwrites]

My Altair

Thanks to all the notes on the sneak peak! Heres part one. I think its gonna be abou 3-4 parts long but I’m not sure yet. Thanks so much for all the likes again. 

Warnings: Underage drinking.

Genre: Angst to Fluff

Part 1 Part 2

The music was loud, so loud that {Y/N} couldn't even hear her own thoughts. Well almost. The alcohol helped a bit. She could replay the scene in her head. Moving off the dance floor to grab another cup of whatever alcohol was there. She had long stopped tasting it. Her phone went off for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Glancing at it she the caller id. Kuroo<3. Oh how that heart mocked her. She had been so stupid to think that after so many years of knowing each other she would have won his heart. She should have known that she would always just be Kenma’s older sister to him. Even worse, all she would have was the title of Kuroo’s best friend. Ignoring the call and placing her phone back into her pocket she made her way back out to the dance floor.

She wasn't even sure whose party this was. All she knew is she heard some students talking about it while she was hiding behind the building at lunch. She didn't want to spend lunch with Kuroo and his new girlfriend. Akemi was nice, she couldn't hate the girl even though she wanted to. She didn't know that {Y/N} was in love with Kuroo. Hell, the only ones who knew were Yaku and Kenma. After dancing with random people for who knows how long her phone went off again. The vibrating was really starting to get on her nerves. She silenced it without even looking. She supposed that she should have told Kenma what she was doing, but she had been blinded by hurt. She knew they were worried about her, but right now she didn't have the heart to care. Alcohol was a good numbing agent. She was broken out of her thoughts by a hand grabbing her arm. Looking up he eyes widened at who it was. {blue} eyes locked with concerned gold orbs. He tried to talk but the music was too loud for her to hear, and with a sigh he gently pulled her out of the party.

Outside where the music was still audible, but manageable, she finally got a good look at her “savior.” She frowned at him and made a move to go back inside. She was once again blocked. She should have known getting around Bokuto was impossible.

“Kuroo called, he-” Bokuto began before being interrupted by the {H/C} girl.

“I don't care about Kuroo right now.” She huffed.  “He shouldn't be worried about anyone other than Akami.” Not even noticing how slurred her speech was, or the fact that she was swaying because of all the alcohol, she attempted to take another drink. The ace grabbed it and poured it out. He could see the remains of tears on her cheeks. He knew how she had been hurt buy Kuroo, that was much was obvious. He gently grabbed her hand and led her away from the party. {hana} had no more fight left in her. All she could focus on now was the broad back of her friend.

“Why are you being nice to me? Shouldn't you be on his side?” she slurred. He sighed before replying.

“Can't pick a side if I don't know what happened Kozume.” Her eyes widened. He never called her by her last name. “All we care about right now if the fact that you are ok. Kuroo said you didn't show up to practice at all the last week, and then Kenma tells him you wern't even home tonight. Not to mention the fact that you didnt even answer your phone.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “I'm not sure what happened to the two of you, but Kenma said you hadn't spoken to Kuroo in almost two weeks. We care about you {Y/N}, you have to talk to us.”

She finally looked up and him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. She gulped and turned away. “Can we go look at the stars? Kuroo never would with me. He said it was a waste of time when he could be practicing. Kenma would always play games or volleyball. All I want is to look at the stars with somebody, but I was never a first priority to the main people in my life. “ She finished with tears in her eyes. Looking back at Bokuto, she realized she couldn't hold back the tears anymore. “I gave up so much for them! I stopped skating because it interfered with their volleyball games. I became the team manager when I didn't even want to! I go to every game and every training camp because it means so much to him. I even stay after practice to help Kuroo with whatever he wants to improve! But-but.” She couldn't even finish her thoughts, next thing she knew she was pressed up against Bokuto’s chest.

“Its not stupid. Lets get some food and water in you and we will go look at the stars. Just let me call Kenma and let him know you're safe ok?|” He could feel her calm own and nod before pulling out his phone. It rang once before Kenma answered, frantic.

“Is she ok?” he asked.

“Shes physically fine, but shes drunk. Im gonna try to sober her up before bringing her back home.” He could hear Kenma let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank God. Thank you for finding her. I'll let Kuroo know and he can come help you get her home.” {Y/N} had heard Kuroos name and let out a muffled no. This did not go unnoticed by Kenma. “What does she mean no?”

“Not one hundred percent sure what he did, but Kuroo's the reason she took off.”

“Alright, well, make sure shes safe when she gets home ok?”

“I promise I'll get her home in one piece.”

It had been about an hour since Bokuto had grabbed {Y/N} from the party. After her breakdown she hadn't said anything else. She had already drank a full bottle of water and was halfway through the second. They stopped at a park that had a good view of the sky.  Bokuto noticed how at ease she looked wile gazing up.  He couldn't help but admire her, like he had done many times before. He frowned a bit noticing that her eyes didn't have their usual brightness in them.

“I wish that there wasn't so much glare from the lights of the city. You can barely see the stars. Its such a shame too, Most of the time you have to go to a planetarium to see them.” She began to ramble. “You can't even see Vega from here.”

“You ready to talk about it?” The owl man inquired. He almost regretted asking watching her deflate. “I just wanna know what happened. You and Kuroo had been close for years. For you to not talk to him is concerning.” She glanced at Bokuto before looking back to the sky.

“I wasn't supposed to hear it. He said it to Akemi, and neither of them knew I was there. They were arguing about me being close to Kuroo, and she figured out that I had liked Kuroo for a while. Girls just know, its like a sixth sense kinda thing.” She saw Bokuto nod out of her peripheral vision and took that as he cue to keep going. “'I could never like someone like {Y/N}. She’s too much like a sister to me.' That's what he said as if he wasn't my first kiss, as if everything we did during the summer of second year meant nothing. I was his dirty little secret. He didn't want to tell anyone because he was scared people would look at him different.” She huffed, tears starting to pool in her eyes once again.

A gust of wind blew at the moment and she shivered. She had regretted only wearing a long sleeve shirt to the party. Granted the alcohol had started to leave her body at this point. Her internal warmth had long left. She sighed and hugged herself tighter before a cloth was draped over her. She saw the white sleeved and knew that he had given her his track jacket. She turned to the owlish man with wide eyes. “Won't you get cold Bo?” She mumbled while putting her hands through the sleeves.

“Its a short walk to your house. I'll be fine. Lets just get you home and in bed.” He muttered taking the zipper and pulling it up all the way. Gold eyes met {E/C} and he knew that the anger he felt towards Kuroo could wait. He gently grabbed her hand and escorted her back home. Once they had reached the door to her house she tried to give the jacket back, but he shook his head. “Give it back the next time I see you.”

For the first time that night she smiled. “Get home safe Bo.” she whispered to him before entering the house. For so many months she had convinced herself that Kuroo the Altair to her Vega, but after his actions the past week she knew. He could never fill that roll. Still a little tipsy and having the courage to do so, she texted the white hair knight.

Me: Lets go stargazing again when I'm not about to die from alcohol poisoning sometime, ok?

[justauthoring]

No Reason To (41/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

A/N: Well!! It’s back, finally!! Thank you guys for being patient with me and giving me a few weeks off! I hope this being a few days earlier makes up for it :)

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 06x03 & 06x04

You blink at the sound of your phone ringing.

“Who is it?”

Turning to Isaac, you briefly meet his eyes before lowering your gaze back to your phone. “It’s Scott,” you explain softly, “i’ll... i’ll be a minute.” You signal him to hang back, hoping he won’t follow you as you slowly stand up from your seat. As you turn your back towards Isaac, you mentally thank the fact that Isaac doesn’t, answering Scott’s call.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he calls back, “listen, Lydia and I might have a lead on this... Stiles.”

Stiles... The name still felt right, even if you couldn’t understand why.

“Yeah?” You question, peeking a glance back at Isaac who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. Giving him a small smile and a wave, you turn back around, shaking your head. “What is it?”

“Apparently it’s a family name of Stilinski’s.” Scott explains, “so, we’re gonna head over to their place and find out more. I thought you’d like to come.”

Anything to find out more.

“Of course,” you nod, “i’ll meet you there.”

Scott pauses a moment, shaking his head as he chances a quick glance Lydia’s way. “We can just drive you--”

“I’m gonna be a minute,” you interrupt gently, lowering your voice. “I’m with Isaac and I don’t want him coming.”

You can sense the confusion on Scott’s face as he pauses, imagining the way his brows must be furrowing. “I still don’t understand,” Scott explains, “Isaac’s been apart of the pack for so long now. Not to mention he’s your boyfriend--”

“He isn’t my boyfriend--” Halting yourself sharply, you sigh. “Okay, yes, he’s my boyfriend. But... it doesn’t matter, Scott. I just... don’t trust him, okay? There’s something off. I can’t explain it.”

“Okay,” Scott eases, “we’ll meet you there.”

You call a short good-bye, hanging up the call, turning back towards the table you and Isaac had been sat at in the library, studying. You needed to come up with an excuse, and a good one at that, to get Isaac not to follow you. And honestly, that was going to be difficult given that the boy hadn’t really left you to yourself at all these past few days.

And now, with this mystery of Stiles, it felt like he was even more clingy. Certainly not in a good way either given that the few times you haven’t mentioned the idea of Stiles, he’s done nothing but shrug the idea of this person off. He seems oddly determined to forgot that any of you even remembered this forgotten person. 

It’s as if he doesn’t want you to remember him.

But the Isaac you felt you knew wouldn’t want that. Something inside of you tells you that; tells you that this is odd of Isaac and the boy you were dating wouldn’t push aside something so important to you like this.

And that’s why you didn’t trust him.

“What did Scott want?”

“He, um... needs my help,” you explain, swallowing thickly. “With... something, so... I have to go...”

Well, that certainly could’ve gone better.

Isaac nods, slowly, clearly a little suspicious if the way his brows furrow slightly is anything to go back. He leans forward on the table, shutting his notebook gently before sending a charming smile your way; a smile that seems just a little too bright. “Want me to come with?”

“No, no, that’s okay.” You cut in gently, shaking your head. “It’s sibling stuff-- twin stuff! So, it’s probably best--”

“Then why’s Lydia coming?”

Pausing, your brows furrow. “Excuse me?”

“Lydia,” Isaac repeats, nodding his head. “Scott said she was coming.”

“Were...” Your voice halts sharply, voice shaking and confused as you let his words process in your mind. “Were you listening in on my conversation?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, as if that’s normal, before he frowns. “And apparently you don’t trust your own boyfriend.”

Shoulders slumping, you push back from your seat with a huff. “How dare you,” you snap, voice sharp, eyes narrowing. “That was... that was a private conversation between us. You had no right listening in on my conversation.”

Isaac shakes his head; “I’m glad I did,” he easily dismisses. “Why don’t you trust me?”

Pushing up from your seat, you quickly pack your stuff, shoving it in your bag and throwing your bag quickly over your shoulder. You move with the intent to leaving, anger rising by the minute that you don’t even really wanna look at Isaac. But you don’t even make it two steps before a hand wraps tightly around your wrist, halting your step and squeezing painfully.

You hiss at the pinching, head whipping round to face Isaac in disbelief. The look in his eyes, the anger, seems so foreign and strange... so different from the Isaac you know.

“Isaac,” you whisper, swallowing thickly. “You’re hurting me.”

He only squeezes harder. “I think you’re forgetting the fact that i’m your boyfriend,” he hisses, voice low, dangerously so. For a moment you’re stunned silent by this odd and strange behaviour that all really find yourself able to do is just stand there and stare at him. For a moment, you feel completely vulnerable and helpless as he leans forward, until his face is inches from your own, eyes dark. “And this Stiles doesn’t exist.”

The sound of the name snaps you out of your revere, and with a blink, you try to pull your hand away until you realize that his grip is too strong. He’s using his strength to hold you there.

“Let go of me.” You hiss, eyes narrowing as you find yourself, raising your chin confidently.

“I’ll let go of you if you agree,” Isaac says simply, “and let me come.”

Lip snarling, you do the first thing that appears to mind. With control you’re sure you’ve never seen before, your eyes flash purple briefly as Isaac is wrenched from you and pushed against the table. A quick glance around assures you no one saw, and meeting Isaac’s eyes while holding him in place, you shake your head. “Don’t touch me,” you hiss, “and don’t you dare follow me.”

You turn, making sure to hold him back until you’re walking out of the school doors and making your way to your car.

Once you’re sat inside, you allow yourself a moment to breathe, still in shock of what had just happened. Your eyes flicker to your wrist, noticing the redness of the skin and you’re sure a bruise will form. But you just don’t understand what had happened.

Isaac’s never been violent before.

-

“He was an Army engineer,” Stilinski explains with a sigh, pulling something from the box his wife had handed him, before gesturing it over to your brother. “Ended the way one bridge at a time.”

Leaning your head over Scott’s shoulder, you eye the photo with curiosity.

“And he went by Stiles,” Scott adds, briefly glancing over at you and Lydia.

“So,” Stilinski starts, “what’s this got to do with the Wild Hunt?”

Scott glances over at you for encouragement, unsure if he should really say. With a shrug and a glance towards the Sheriff whose never been nothing but helpful, you nod. “We think that somebody was taken from us,” Scott explains.

“Any idea who?”

“Uh, the Ghost Riders would have erased our memories.”

With a huff, Stilinski nods; “well, now, that’s convenient.”

“We found a clue,” Lydia speaks up, eyes clear on Stilinski. However, you can’t help but notice how his wife seems to react to Lydia’s words, the way her eyes instantly snap over to your friend, quick and calculated but almost as if alarmed. “The word ‘Stiles’.”

“And that’s why you want to talk to Elias,” Mrs. Stilinski clarifies.

“Yeah,” Scott nods, “maybe he can help us figure it out. Maybe he knows who we’re looking for.”

“This is someone your age?”

“Yeah, I...” Scott slows, stammering as his voice falters. “I think he was my friend. Maybe he was my best friend.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, drifting. Your eyes lower to your hands in response, fiddling with them uncomfortably as you try to remember. Try to see past this blank space in your mind. But nothing works.

“I can guarantee you, my father can’t help you.”

Blinking, you raise your head at Stilinski, frowning as he takes the photo back from Scott.

“Couldn’t we try?” You offer, voice soft.

“Guys--”

His words fade to the back of your mind as the image of a blurred figure appears in the corner of your eye. It’s similar to the figure you’d seen the other day, the shadow.

It starts at the corner of the living room, walking through as your eyes follow the figure, confused and baffled as everything else seems to fade to the back of your mind. You become solely focused on this shadow, this undefined person, until it stops just behind Mrs. Stilinski. You can tell by the shadow’s movements that it turns to face you, specifically you.

Then, the sound of a train drifts quietly in the back of your mind.

“The following stops have been cancelled,” a distant, echoed voice says. It comes from the shadow as the sound of a train chugging echoes. “The following stops have been cancelled.”

Then, the shadow turns, walking out of the room.

Blinking, you jerk in your seated spot, body rigid as you cut into the conversation, the first words you think of leaving your lips. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Mrs. Stilinski nods slowly at you, “sure.”

You jump to your feet perhaps a little too quickly, footsteps fast as you rush out of the living room and down the hallway the shadow had gone through. You slow as you walk through, body tense and footsteps painfully careful as you move to turn the corner. You know, before even looking, that the shadow is there. And you’re proven correct as you turn, noticing as it stands eerily still before a wall.

“Why are you here?” You question, trying to keep your voice lower so the others don’t hear you. “What are you?” At the lack of response that follows, you step closer, swallow thickly. “Is there something you want to tell me? What stop has been cancelled?”

The figure doesn’t reply. Doesn’t move.

Slowly, you raise your hand with the intent to touch the shadow, to pull its attention back on you. But seconds before you do, a voice calls out for you. “Y/N?” Jumping back at the sound of Mrs. Stilinski’s voice, you let out a heavy breath, shaking your head for getting so scared as turn in the direction of her voice. “Did you find it? The last door on the left.”

When you turn back, the shadow’s gone.

“Found it.”

Shoulders falling, you sigh, turning back around towards the living room.

“You’re not hearing me. Trust me, you don’t want to talk to him.”

You meet Lydia’s gaze before turning to your brother, watching as he shakes his head desperately towards the Sheriff. “We just need a few minutes.”

“Scott,” Stilinski calls, desperate. “My father can’t help you.”

“Just a few questions,” Scott argues. “Five minutes.”

“You know, what?” Stilinski cuts in, voice sharper and louder then it had been before. “You don’t just ‘talk’ to this guy. Okay?” Silence echoes, Scott’s lips parting. “Just find another way, okay?”

“But, what if this is the only way?”

“Scott,” Mrs. Stilinski cuts in, “you have your answer.”

Making your way over to your brother, you set a comforting hand on his shoulder as he begs; “Sheriff, please.”

“Scott.”

Meeting the Sheriff’s gaze, you gently pull Scott back. “Come on, Scott. Let’s just... let’s just go.”

“But--”

“The answers no,” Stilinski cuts in, shaking his head.

Meeting Lydia’s gaze, your shoulders fall.

-

“I still can’t believe you broke a nurses nose.”

“Oh, it’s fine.”

“Malia, you broke his nose.”

“And he’ll live.”

Rubbing your temples, you inhale deeply, trying to keep yourself calm. Sometimes, you swear, that girl was going to drive you mad, no matter how much you loved her.

As you turn the corner, you swallow thickly at the sight of what you can only assume Stilinski’s dad.

“The Sheriff is going to be so mad at us,” you whisper, letting out a shaky breath.

You receive three looks, all basically telling you to shut up as you all continue making your way into the room the man’s sat in. He turns to face you four at the sight of you, quirking a brow; “yes?” Then, he pauses. “Oh. Is it time for my medicine?”

Crossing her arms, Malia shakes her head; “we don’t have your medicine.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, shoulders falling.

Shaking your head, you take a small step forward; “are you Elias Stilinski?” You ask gently.

“I am.”

A small smile grows on your lips at that, taking a step forward until you’re directly in front of the man. “I’m Y/N McCall,” you say warmly, “do you know who I am?”

He pauses, “should I?”

Your brother steps forward then. “Hey, Mr. Stilinski, we’re looking for somebody who might be named Stiles. You went by that name in the Army, right?”

Meeting your brothers eyes, Elias nods; “yes. Best years of my life.”

“Do you know any of us?” Lydia asks, pulling his eyes on her briefly.

Your brows furrow when he instantly turns towards Scott. “Of course I do,” he nods, eyes brightening ever so slightly. “How could I forget my own son?”

Oh.

“Your son?”

Meeting Scott’s gaze, you shake your head. “Mr. Stilinski? What year is it?”

“Nineteen-seventy-six.” Shoulders falling, you sigh. “It’s my son’s birthday next week.”

Meeting your brothers eyes, you explain; “he has dementia.”

Then, Elias glances back up at Scott; “is it time for my medicine?”

-

“Scott McCall?”

Your eyes widen with hope.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. You’re my son.”

And then, you deflate.

“Keep it down, old guy” Malia hisses by the window, eyes panicked. “You’ll wake the other old people.” 

“Malia,” you snap, shaking your head at her.

However, your brows furrow when she takes a pea off of the man’s eating tray, eating it. Then, continues to eat the peas.

“I don’t like her,” Elia mumbles.

“Yeah,” you nod, narrowing your eyes at her strange behaviour. “I don’t blame you.”

Lydia takes a seat next to Elia, pulling his attention on her. “Your son,” she clarifies, “he’s the Sheriff of Beacon Hills.”

“Sheriff?” Lydia nods. “No, no, no, no. No, no,” he stutters, “I was in the Army.”

“Use your claws, Scott.”

Scott turns to Malia, brows furrowing; “it could kill him.”

“I get that,” she huffs, “but we’re running out of time.”

“That’s crazy,” you dismiss, eyes narrowed. “We’re not doing that.”

Malia lets out a growl, surprising you when its directed at you, before she flips her hand out, claws there and takes a threatening step towards Elias. Your freeze but Scott’s quick to react, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her back. “No,” he demands, “we’re not hurting him.”

“Young lady,” Elias calls after a moment, eyes on Malia. “You need to clip those nails.”

-

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Eyes falling shut, you sigh.

“If you don’t leave,” Elias continues, “i’ll have to report you.”

“Uh,” Scott stammers, “what’s wrong with him?”

“The sun went down,” she explains.

“Okay,” you say slowly, “and?”

“He’s sun-downing.” 

Your eyes fall on the man as he starts muttering frantically, words slurred and a mess.

“It’s when dementia patients lose their faculties after the sun goes down.”

Elias starts to breathe heavily, turning panicked. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore!” He turns irrational, swiping his hand out before him angrily.

“So what do we do?” Malia asks.

“We wait until the sun comes back up.”

She shakes her head; “we can’t wait that long!”

“No, no, no!”

Licking your lips, you turn to Lydia; “there’s gotta be something we can do to keep him quiet.”

“Leave, leave, leave!”

Malia steps forward; “I can calm him down.”

Consecutively, you, Scott and Lydia all tell her no.

“Elias,” Lydia calls, taking the papers and flattening them before him. “Look at the equations,” she orders, “look,” she points at them. “It’s binomial probability. What’s ‘p’?”

“Um,” Elias mumbles, “probability of success?”

“Right,” Lydia nods encouragingly. “And that means N minus K is?”

“Uh, number of trials minus the number of successes?”

“Um,” you whisper, so as not to disturb Elias. “What’s with the math?”

“It helps dementia patients concentrate,” Lydia explains, focusing back on Elias. “And this one?”

“That’s, um,” he pauses, looking closer at the paper. “Conditional probability.”

He stands up as Scott steps towards the papers, moving to sit down and focus in on the many pages of math.

“Okay,” Lydia moves to continue, “let’s find the moment of inertia.” However, Elias doesn’t respond, doesn’t make any move to either. “Elias?” Lydia calls gently.

“That’s Mr. Stilinski,” he cuts in sharply, causing you to blink up at him. “Just who the hell do you think you are?”

-

“You know Scott isn’t your son?”

“Of course I know that,” Elias snaps, “are brains getting smaller with the skirts?”

Excuse me?

For the first time that day you agree with Malia as she lets out a low growl in response to Elias jibe, taking a small, threatening step towards the man.

“Malia,” Scott calls gently, “it’s okay.”

“So,” Elias speaks up, pointing at Scott. “You’re that McCall kid?”

Scott’s brows furrow, “you know me?”

“I knew your dad,” Elias explains, causing your shoulders to tense; a reaction that you still can’t help to this day. “Couldn’t hold his liquor and he couldn’t keep that wedding ring on his finger. Pretty young thing would walk by and poof, that ring would just disappear like magic.”

Swallowing thickly, your eyes lower.

Malia lets out a low growl.

“Do you know all of us?” Lydia asks.

Elias turns towards her, leaning forward. “Your Natalie Martin’s girl, am I right? You look like her. She was pretty once too.” Your lips part, head jerking back in surprise.

“Stop talking,” Malia warns, eyes flashing blue.

“Hey, Malia,” Scott calls.

“And she also liked to talk like she was the smartest person in the room.”

Malia steps forward, and your eyes snap to her. “Malia,” you warn, pulling her eyes on you. “Just ignore him.”

“You’re also McCall’s kid.” Elias speaks up, causing you to blink over at him in surprise. It feels like the first time you’ve properly met his eyes, and he looks so different from the sweet man you’d seen earlier. “I used to see you as a little girl walking around with bruises all the time. No doubt because of that father--”

Malia lunges forward, claws out, but doesn’t make it far as Stilinski comes rushing into the room, halting everything and everyone.

However, you don’t really notice, the man’s words drifting to the back of your mind as you stand up, moving towards the shadows, crossing your arms over your chest. You thought you were past that point of your life, that you had healed, but it being brought up like that, like it was nothing... hurt more than you liked to admit.

“Sheriff,” Scott mumbles, “we...”

“I explicitly told you not to come here,” Stilinski cuts in, voice dangerously low. “And who attacked a staff member?

“That’s her,” the nurse identifies, glaring at Malia who growls in response.

“Noah,” Elias cuts in, “we were just having a nice conversation.”

“The four of you,” Noah calls, “out. Now.”

You rush out, not bothering to wait for the others, eager to get away from that man as quickly as possible. You hug yourself tightly, trying to hide into yourself, trying to fight back the tears that threaten to fall from your face.

You ignore the sound of your name, rushing out of the nursing home.

However, Scott’s quick, and he catches up to you by grabbing hold of your arm. Instinctively, you react to the touch, hastily pulling away from it as if he’d hurt you. When you turn around and manage to realize it’d just been Scott, you’re panting, chest rising and falling heavily as your eyes focus on him before drifting to Malia and Lydia who are stood behind him, looking confused but also, concerned.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe. “I... I didn’t mean to run off like that--”

“It’s fine, Y/N,” Scott soothes, voice soft. Then, he meets your gaze and holds it, sincere. “Are you okay?”

You meet Malia and Lydia’s eyes, realizing that before this point, before that man had said anything, they hadn’t had a clue about what had happened to you as a young girl. But now... now it was no longer a secret. And you didn’t know how you felt about it.

“I didn’t want anyone else knowing,” you whisper, meeting Scott’s eyes carefully, “I didn’t... I don’t want them to think i’m weak or--”

“We don’t think you’re weak,” Malia cuts in, causing you to blink in surprise. You’d forgotten she could hear you from where she was stood and as a result, your head falls in shame, biting your lip as your eyes blur. “We just want to know if you’re okay.”

Meeting Lydia’s eyes, she nods.

“I’m okay,” you nod, “he just took me by surprise.”

Lydia smiles softly, “I think he took us all by surprise.”

Scott nods down at you, holding onto you tightly, “i’m sorry he said that to you.”

Squaring your shoulders, you sniffle, shaking your head. “It’s okay,” and at the looks they send you, you shake your head. “I promise... Besides,” you sigh, eyeing Stilinski as he comes out of the nursing home himself. “I think there’s more things to worry about right now.”

-

“I know this looks bad.”

“It doesn’t look bad, Scott,” Natalie snaps, “it is bad. You broke into a nursing home, you harassed a dementia patient, and you beat up a nurse. This could affect the rest of your lives. Especially you, Malia,” Natalie’s eyes zone in on Malia, angry. “They’re talking about felony assault.”

Malia’s eyes widen, “I didn’t beat him up,” she defends. “I could have. But I chose not to.”

Shrugging, you offer; “that’s an improvement.”

Just then, Stilinski pops into the room. “By some miracle, the nurse decided to drop the charges. They’re free to go.”

A breath of relief leaves you.

“Just because you’re not going to jail,” Natalie cuts in before any of you can get too happy, eyes on Lydia specifically. “Doesn’t mean you’re not grounded for eternity.”

-

“Y/N?”

“Oh,” blinking, you halt at your spot on the porch, turning to find the Sheriff. “Mr. Stilinski.”

“Hey, he smiles gently, stepping towards you. “I’m sorry to come unannounced.”

Shaking your head, you frown, swallow thickly. “I’m the one should be sorry, Mr. Stilinski.” Lowering your gaze to your feet, you sigh, shoulders shaky as they fall with guilt. “About earlier, with your dad... We should’ve listened to--”

“I should’ve told you the truth,” Stilinski cuts in gently, shaking his head and waving a hand at your apology. “The truth is I was ashamed about who he is.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you lick your lips, not really sure what else to say; “still, I am sorry.”

“Y/N,” Noah calls gently, his voice considerably softer then it had been before as he takes a gentle step towards you. “I heard what my father said to you.” Oh... Body tensing at Stilinski’s words, you try to avoid his gaze, not really sure how to react or what to say in response. You couldn’t help it, but even so many years later, every time the topic of your abuse comes up, you just tense. You never know what to say or how to react, it’s why you kept it a secret for so long from your own twin.

And even if you knew they only meant the best for you, you didn’t know how you felt about so many more knowing the truth now. You thought it was only Malia and Lydia, but to know that the Sheriff knows now too... well, it felt strange.

Your eyes are pulled on to his own, however, as Stilinski sets his hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“It happened a long time ago, Mr. Stilinski,” you explain with a shrug. You meet his eyes with a soft smile, one that maybe doesn’t completely reach your eyes, but Noah doesn’t comment on it. Probably for your sake. “I’m much better now.”

“Still,” Noah assures, “I, maybe more than anyone else, understand that trauma like that doesn’t just fade. And I know i’m the Sheriff, but i’m here for you as a friend as well.”

There’s a clear meaning behind his words. One you understand clearly as he sends you a sympathetic look and he squeezes your shoulder to assure you that he’s there. And that he understands. Probably more than any of your friends do. Because he’s gone through something terribly similar. And it makes sense then, to you, why he was so ashamed and hesitate on you all speaking to his father. Why he tried to hide his father from you and your friends.

And knowing that, makes you feel better. Even if only a little.

“Thank you, Mr. Stilinski,” you smile gently, “I really appreciate it.”

-

“It’s a relic.”

“What’s a relic?”

“An object with a fixed association to the past.”

Nodding slowly, you eye the ID in Lydia’s hand, making sense of it.

“Jake’s ID was left behind after he was taken,” Lydia explains further. “And Gwen found her sister’s bracelet on her bedroom floor.”

“Okay,” you shake your head, “how can someone be erased, and still leave something behind?”

“A conservation of mass. The total mass of any isolated system remains constant.”

Scott’s eyes perk; “so, even the Ghost Riders have a weakness.”

Taking the ID from Lydia’s hand, you nod; “a relic would be proof of Stiles’ existence.”

“And maybe we can bring him back.”

-

“I really don’t care, Isaac.”

Sighing, Isaac frowns. “I came to apologize. That’s it.”

Gripping the ID you’d taken from Lydia tightly in your hands, you make sure to hold it securely, eyeing Isaac carefully as your shoulders fall and a sigh leaves your lips at his words. You’d been scarcely avoiding him since everything, which was harder said then done given that he was still staying at your house because of everything.

And even if you knew eventually you’d have to face him, right now couldn’t be a worse time. You needed to talk to the Sheriff about Stiles.

“I don’t want to hear your apology,” you huff, “i’m busy.”

You move to walk past him, not even bothering to give him another glance but before you make it even two steps past him, his hand falls around your upper arm similarly to before. You freeze instantly at his touch, eyes falling on his hand before flickering up to his eyes and narrowing your own. He understands, recalling before, and quickly lets go, holding his hands up by his head in surrendering.

“I just want to apologize,” he whispers, voice low so that in the crowd of students you’re the only one who can hear him. “Because I am sorry.”

Shoulders falling, you falter. Even for just a second. You knew, in your gut, even if you had no other proof then one incident that could’ve just been a bad day; that the Isaac before you wasn’t your Isaac. You hadn’t mentioned it to anyone as of yet because honestly you doubted anyone would believe you. There was just something off about it, and when you were with him it didn’t feel like it should. 

But, as you met his eyes, it was Isaac.

“Okay,” you whisper, “but I have to go.”

Isaac looks like he wants to argue. Say more. But he relents, nodding and you simply walk past him, not chancing him one more look as you head straight for the exit.

-

“You want to search my house?”

Swallowing thickly, you lean forward on the Sheriff’s desk, moving to explain yourself. “People are leaving things behind.” You explain, gesturing towards the ID card in his hand. “So if Stiles left anything...--”

“Why, why would it be there?”

“You can’t just erase people,” you argue, desperate. “They leave things behind.”

At Stilinski’s silence, you sigh, shaking your head.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Stilinski speaks up, dropping the ID on his desk with a huff. “So, um, I got up, figured I’d do some paperwork. The files were in the back of my car. So, I--I go to the garage, and some junk has fallen off a shelf and I--I stubbed my toe on an old baseball bat.” Your eyes widen, something feels right about the mention of that baseball bat. Something familiar. “Without thinking, I yelled a name...”

Pursing your lips, you nod; “Stiles.”

-

You frown as you eye the caller ID on your phone, it buzzing your hand.

It’s Isaac. And obviously, he hasn’t given up like you thought he had. Like you hoped he had.

Turning your phone off, you shove it back in your back pocket, shaking your head. You weren’t ready to talk to him. And he’d only distract you; distract you from what was important. Stiles.

Raising your head, you eye the photos lined across the fireplace. Photos of Stilinski and his wife, Claudia, that for some reason just... don’t feel right.

You can’t place it. Can’t make sense of it. But as you drift your eyes across the framed photos, you can’t help but feel as if someone else should be there. Or that someone shouldn’t... Maybe both. And it can’t be formed into words why or how, can’t be made sense of, but it’s this feeling. This deep, buried feeling inside of you that feels wrong when you look at them.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Jumping faintly at the sound of Claudia’s voice, you spin around to face her, shaking your head. “No,” you mumble, voice gentle. “But thank you, Mrs. Stilinski.”

“Well, good luck,” she sighs, stepping back. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Your eyes narrow as you watch her move back towards the kitchen, watching her leave with that same sense of... wrong.

Then, your gaze drifts across the living room, before falling on the hallway you’d seen that shadow. That blurred figure. You can almost picture it there, it’s ominously blank face somehow staring directly at your own and whispering those words: the following stops have been cancelled.

Your feet seem to move on their own. Seem to take you to the exact spot you’d followed that shadow towards, your steps slow and careful, maybe even a little afraid as you stare at the wall it’d been facing. And as you stand before the wall, you try to understand why it felt so important. Why that shadow, the one you’d followed before, lead you directly here.

It’s then you hear the distant chugging. The sound of a train chugging. It’s echoed and slow, drawn out, and quiet; a distant sound in the back of your mind as you stare at the wall. You notice a line in the wallpaper, a distinct lining and your hand inches towards the wall, reaching out to touch it like you had the shadow before.

And similarly to before, you’re interrupted but this time by a shadow appearing next to you.

You jump, a gasp of fright leaving your lips as your head snaps to the right, eyes falling on the faceless face.

“You didn’t see it, did you?” The voice is a males, one you don’t recognize. And it echoes, over and over again, drifting across the room, drifting in your mind.

With a small, shaky voice, you whisper; “see what?”

“It’s right in front of your face.”

The wall.

You turn back towards it, touching it this time, your fingers drifting across the cracked wallpaper. The sound of wind blowing echoes and when you turn, the shadow is gone.

Breathing heavily, you calm yourself. Calm your racing heart. You let the edge of your thumb slide underneath the wallpaper, gripping onto the edge you’d created and then pull. The wallpaper easily peels off the wall, but before you pull off very much, a hand wraps tightly around your wrist, eliciting a sharp gasp of fright from you.

“What are you doing?” Mrs. Stilinski cries, pulling your hand back, her grip tight.

“You’re... You’re hurting me,” you whisper, trying to pull your hand away.

Her lips part and she quickly lets go of you, eyes falling on the piece of wallpaper you’d ripped. Voice shaky, you swallow thickly; “i’m sorry,” you mumble, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Turning to you, eyes dark, Claudia growls; “I think that’s something we can agree on.”

-

“Were you tearing Claudia Stilinski’s wallpaper off her wall?”

Shoulders tensing at your mother’s voice, you hesitantly glance up at her from her desk, peering up at Melissa through your lashes. She looks fairly unimpressed and honestly, you don’t really blame her. “Maybe,” you mumble, and at the sharp look she sends you, you shrug; “yes.”

“Y/N,” she sighs, shoulders falling as she sets down the clipboard in her hands. “She’s worried about your mental health,” and then, she pauses, quirking a brow. “And honestly, I am too.”

“I saw someone,��� you explain, “someone Mrs. Stilinski didn’t.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know,” you frown, avoiding her gaze. “Couldn’t really make out any distinguishing figures.”

“Okay,” Melissa starts slowly, “and what does that mean?”

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “It was more like a shadow. A... blurred figure.”

“A shadow?”

“Yup.”

“A shadow.”

“Look,” you huff, shoulders falling. “I know it sounds crazy. But I saw someone there, and they were leading me to Stiles. Or something to do with Stiles. I just know it had to do with Stiles. I know it. And I was so close... but then--”

“Claudia stopped you from ruining her wallpaper?”

Glaring at your mother, you scoff.

“Honey,” Melissa calls, a small smile on her lips as she leans forward on the desk. “Have you ever considered that maybe this Stiles really isn’t real? That he doesn’t exist and you just want him to?”

“Why would I just want him to exist?”

“Because,” Melissa starts slowly, “you’re not happy with Isaac.”

Jerking back in response to her words, your lips part. Not sure what to say.

“And maybe,” your mom continues, voice a whisper, gentle and slow. “That’s why you’re so desperate for this Stiles to be real.”

“He is real,” you say, without even an ounce of doubt in your voice, and not a second of hesitation, shaking the thought of her previous words out of your mind. “I know it sounds crazy, but mom,” and then you meet her eyes, sure and desperate because you feel just as crazy as everyone must think you are. And you’re beyond confused because nothing makes any proper sense, but there’s just something deep in your chest that tells you; Stiles is real. “I just know it, in my heart, that Stiles is real.”

Frowning, Melissa tilts her head, “how can you be so sure?”

“Because... Because I love him.”

Your mother seems to fall silent at that. Her eyes soften and her gaze seems almost pitiful and sympathetic as you inhale sharply, trying to hold yourself back. “Okay,” Melissa whispers, voice gentle. “Then, how we are going to find him?”

Your eyes widen with hope, a soft smile curling onto your lips as you meet your mother’s gaze. Even if your friends believed you and were just as eager to find Stiles as much as you, none of them have been seeing what you have. And it all routes back to your powers and how sometimes, they made you feel absolutely insane. But to sit here and have someone from the outside believe you, to have your mother believe you... well, right now, it felt like the best feeling in the world.

“Honestly?” You offer, sitting up in your seat as you quirk a brow at Melissa. “I have no idea. But, I think if I can get a look at Mrs. Stilinski’s medical records--”

“Hold on a moment,” your mother holds up a hand, halting you. “You want to see Claudia’s personal medical records?”

Lips pursed, you blink; “yes?”

“For you to look at private medical records is completely and utterly against hospital regulations.” She pauses, and you tense, unsure of how to respond. “And you’ll need my help to do it.” Letting out a breath of relief, you smile at your mother as she makes her way around the counter. You lean back for her to get better access to the computer, but instead, she grabs your wrist.

“And we can’t do it out in the open like this,” she whispers, meeting your eyes. “Follow me.”

-

“Sorry, Y/N. According to her medical records, Claudia never had children.”

Shoulders falling, you purse your lips. Letting your eyes drift across the computer screen, you pause when you manage to catch sight of something odd. “Well, wait, she had... frontotemporal dementia,” you lean forward, pointing at the screen. 

Shaking her head, Melissa mumbles, “there must be a mistake.”

“How long ago?” You question, glancing down at your mother. “She seems fine now.”

“Ten years?” Melissa doubts, eyeing the rest of the screen. Shaking her head, she continues; “i’m surprised she’s still alive, honestly. It’s a miracle.”

-

“What happened?”

Turning at the sound of Lydia’s voice, you sigh.

“Ghost Riders took everyone,” Malia explains with a shake of her head. “We barely slowed them down.”

Turning to you, Scott’s eyes are practically pleading as he meets your gaze. “Tell us you found something.”

Frowning, you swallow thickly, shuffling on your feet. “I found out Claudia never had children. So... Stiles can’t be her son,” you mumble, shaking your head. You try to ignore the look of defeat on all of their faces, but, inevitably, you feel it too.

“What about a relic?”

Lips parting, you hesitate, just for a second, before shaking your head no.

Turning to your brother, Malia’s voice is considerably more quiet then usual as she whispers; “there never was a Stiles, was there?”

You turn to your brother, who just sighs; “it doesn’t even sound like a real name.”

“We have to keep looking,” you practically plead, voice sharp. You’re not ready to give up, You can’t. And you know, even if everyone else does, you won’t be able to. “Check the school records again. Or,” you turn to Scott, hopeful, “call our dad--”

“We’re fighting the wrong battle,” Lydia cuts in, shaking her head at you.

“We’re trying to bring Stiles back,” you argue.

“The Ghost Riders came back,” Malia reminds, “we still have no way of stopping them. And whatever they are, they’re real. We can’t keep chasing someone who isn’t.”

You turn to Scott, hoping that if anyone will trust you, it’ll be him. Because it’s him. But, “he didn’t leave anything behind.”

Swallowing thickly, you take a step back. “Just us.”

-

Part 42?

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[stones-x-bones]

Faeted End || Rio and Bex (ft. A Special Guest)

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @3starsquinn and @inbextween, Jim the Warden (written by Virginia) SUMMARY: Rio wants to keep his friend safe, and Bex has had enough of people hurting Mina. CONTENT: Head injury, Memory Loss, Gun mention (but no usage), Domestic abuse mentions

Anger wasn’t a feeling Bex was used to, but how could she not be angry? Someone had hurt Mina, badly, and they were still out there. They were still allowed to walk around, unscathed, unpunished, unjustly. Rio had told her all about it, even if Mina wouldn’t, and the second she’d heard that it was someone like Frank, someone who hurt people specifically like Mina, the rage had begun to build in her stomach. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. Why were there people out there who specifically hunted others? It was disgusting. That man needed to be stopped. She’d decided that the instant she’d talked to Rio. He needed to be stopped, and Bex now had the tools to do that. You can stop the fight before it even begins. Nell had taught her a bit more since she’d last exploded that doll, and Bex knew she was right-- she was going to stop this man before he hurt anyone again. Before he hurt Mina again. 

It was with that boiling rage inside of her-- that fear, that worry, that pain-- that she ended up in the Outskirts with Rio. Apparently the man was at a bar down here, as Rio had told her. It just made her more angry. Was Adam like this? Was Dani? Was Mina supposed to be like this? She pushed the thoughts down and tried to calm herself, gathering her energy in the pit of her stomach, readying it for when she’d need it most. “Should we just go inside?” she asked in a hushed voice to Rio, “Or wait for him to come out?” 

It was very possible that Orion had made a mistake. He had almost died on two separate occasions now, ironically with two girls that were dating. Once he knew, he couldn’t keep it to himself. He couldn’t stop thinking about the hunter that would almost undoubtedly go after Mina again. But he didn’t know how to stop him. When he first told Bex about the man, it was more as a warning than anything else. Just so they could keep an eye out for him. Now, he stood in front of the worst places in town. 

His arms were crossed, a very deliberate attempt to hide his goosebumps. He rocked back and forth on his feet to hide any shaking. He hadn’t been inside of this bar in a long time. But all of the horrible memories were too vivid. He used to sit at the same table with his parents and sister, headphones in but still unable to block the conversations other hunters had. Terrible, evil conversations about the supernatural creatures Rio wanted only to protect. “Going in is a very bad idea.” Rio answered as soon as it was suggested. They never stood a chance against a group of hunters. They barely stood a chance against one. “He’s dangerous. And we don’t exactly want to attract any attention.” He hadn’t exactly mentioned that this bar was almost exclusively hunters. Well, besides that one guy. He seemed nice. “That wouldn’t be good for us.”

“Yeah, well,” Bex spat, surprised at her own ire, “I’m dangerous, too.” The power inside her stomach was dangerous. She didn’t want to wait for this man, but Rio was right-- going inside was a bad idea. She could recognize that much. So they would wait. “Fine, we’ll wait.” She ushered Rio over to one of the stores that was across the street from the innocuous looking bar. They’d have to keep a close watch, to see when he left. Not wanting to make a scene also meant they’d have to follow him a little distance away until they could get him well and truly alone. Just like he’d had Mina. Just like he’d probably had so many others. Bex felt her anger growing again and the window beside her cracked a little. She looked back at Rio. “You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to,” she told him. He looked absolutely frightened, which Bex was sure was fair. From what he’d told her, this man had attacked him, too, and there were still signs of that evident on his skin. Her eyes lingered on the bruises around his neck. She needed to calm down before she exploded too soon. “I’ll be okay on my own.” 

The two perched in a nearby store, Bex seemingly intent on watching the entrance to the Silver Bullet at all times, while Orion barely wanted to see the place at all. The longer the two waited, the more anxious Rio was going to get. But there was no way he was going to leave Bex alone to try to talk to the man. Besides, he had no interest in anyone dying tonight. It was clear the warden had no issues killing non-fae. And the only examples of Bex’s magic that Rio had seen so far was her blowing things up. It was a hostile mixture. 

“It’s fine. Just keep your eye out for the door okay? I’m going to go get him” He hated the words even has he said them, but pulled his jacket tighter shut and left quickly. His legs were going to give out quickly if he fought it off any longer. His choice now was to get in and get out quickly. He hoped that the sight of Rio would peak the hunter’s interest enough to follow him. As long as he didn’t call him out in front of the entire bar, this would probably end in no death.

The place hadn’t changed a bit, right down to the nausea Rio felt being inside of it. He stood in the entrance way for a while, looking past the prying eyes turning to see who had just walked in. Many faces were familiar, and from the look on their faces Rio could tell they recognized him too. The kid whose parents got offed by the supernatural last year. The news had spread through the hunter community that had known his parents. He didn’t want to give them a chance to start a conversation, so he pushed on his tippy toes and glanced around the bar as if looking for someone. Rio spotted him in the corner of the bar, eyes staring directly in Rio’s direction. So he noticed me too. Great. Though this was technically according to plan, he still hated the feeling of that man looking at him. When the man stood up, Rio spun in place and pushed out the door, glancing at the shop window and pointing in the direction down the street before high tailing away from the bar.

Since coming to this shitstain of a town, Jim’d learned two things: the people were fucking crazy, and what the Silver Bullet lacked in company and good beer, it made up for in information. And interesting sightings. He’d been feeling like shit since those two kids handed him his ass on a platter. One twerpy boy and an already injured fae should’ve been cake to take down, but somehow they’d gotten the better of him, and he couldn’t stand it, trying to swallow down the bitterness of it with watery beer. He couldn’t figure out what was wrong. He’d thought maybe the boy had been brainwashed, promised into protecting the fae, but that hadn’t appeared to be the case. Then he’d thought the fae might try to flee while he took care of the boy, but she’d stuck around, and the two of them had managed to wail on him until he hadn’t been able to stand. Fucking kids. He’d kill the boy just for interrupting with his hunt, but not before he made the little punk tell him where the fae was. He’d make a pretty penny off of her, he just knew it. Somebody was always in the market for nix teeth and scales, and hers had been a nice, silvery color from what he could remember of her goddamn hand and claws ripping into him. He’d kill her slow, make it hurt. He’d be doing the world a service, too.

It was Jim’s lucky night, too. Not the fae; of course it’d be too easy to give him the fae, but the punk was in the Silver Bullet of all places, locking eyes with Jim and then scurrying a way like the fucking pest that he was. Jim grinned at the bartender and laid down his money. “Duty call, pal.” He headed out the door, following the kid and his weird gestures. Maybe the fae was around here after all, though he couldn’t sense her. He allow a bit of iron to concentrate in his hands, though, before reaching for the gun holstered under his jacket. No sword, this time. No point in losing another fine weapon when iron bullets did their job on all kinds of targets. “Hey, Peter Pan!” Jim called out. “Where are you, boy? I just wanna talk about your friend from the other day.”

Bex watched Rio scurry off and stilled herself, watching the door. She wasn’t a hunter or anyone who hurt people by a long shot-- she wasn’t like Nell, her magic wasn’t the kind you used to fight, and she wasn’t like Mina, she wasn’t strong or capable-- but Nell had given her the tools to do what neither of them could. Stop it before it even started. And oh, would she. She wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Mina again. Not like this. Not with broken bones and hand-shaped burns, and black-eyes. She could protect people, too. 

Her eyes locked with Rio’s when he exited the bar. The man was coming. Rio darted towards an emptier part of the street, and Bex dropped whatever distraction she’d been holding and followed after, watching the man leave the bar in a hurry, trailing Rio towards the abandoned bits of town. Bex looked as innocent as a flower, with her pretty, blue dress, her hair tied up nice, and her matching purse. She followed casually behind the man, despite the anger in her stomach making her fingers feel like they were on fire. Somehow, there was no fear. No worry. No anxiety. Just anger. 

The man turned off behind one of the buildings after Rio and Bex followed close behind them. He called out, but Rio didn’t answer. Bex cleared her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said, clicking her heels on the cement, “are you looking for someone?”

This had been Orion’s own idea, yet his heart exploded in his chest as he rushed out of the bar and down the street. He could hear the hunter behind him, the heavy footsteps loud enough that Rio’s hunter senses weren’t even necessary. He dipped into the alleyway, dipping behind a dumpster and pressing his back against it. The hunter would find him. Rio knew that much. He couldn’t hide forever. He looked for anything he could to defend himself, eventually settling on a broken piece of wood from a nearby pallet board. He gripped the wood tightly and held it against his chest, waiting for the footsteps. They drew closer and closer, feet away from him now until he heard Bex’s voice cut through the quiet of the night. Jesus. She really had no fears. Rio inched closer to the dumpster. He needed to be ready to jump in if the hunter lunged for her. 

Jim was expecting a boy, not a girl to start talking to him. He turned around to face the voice and relaxed. Easy. Just a girl, no fae, just a kid in a dress with a purse to match it. “Heya, little lady. Yeah, yeah, I’m looking for a boy about,” he put up his hand, guessing the size of the kid from when he’d last seen him, “yay high?” Runty looking, he almost said, but he was playing nice. Girl was probably a normie. “Might look a little skittish. Kid owes me something, and I need to talk to him real bad.” He put his thumbs in his front pockets, his posture loose, easy. Then he said, “Or he might have a friend with him? Been needing to talk to her, too. She’s about your height, wide eyes.” Doesn’t fucking belong here. “I just need to talk to them both like you believe. Saw them the other day, but they just ran off before we could have our chat, can you believe that? You’re not rude like that, are you, sweetheart? You’d tell me if you saw them?”

She hated the way he talked. So many men had talked to her like that in her life already. It only made her more sure of what she was going to do. What that was? Even Bex wasn’t sure yet, but it was going to be something. Her magic could mess with people’s heads, that’s what she knew for sure. She’d given Eddie her memories of Kyle, had linked her and Kyle’s thoughts, had jumped through Hina’s dreams-- whatever she was going to do to this man, he was going to be left wishing he’d never laid a hand on Mina, or Rio. She smiled pleasantly. “Oh! You must mean Rio,” she said, grinning wider. “He owes you something? That’s strange. He usually always makes sure he follows up on that kinda stuff.” She tapped the strap of her purse, as if in thought. “A girl?” she tilted her head, innocently. All those years of pretending to be proper, pretending to be a good girl were paying off, weren’t they? She knew exactly how to be sweet and unassuming to old men who would never even guess that she hid a power they couldn’t fight again. “Do you mean...Mina? Brown hair, beautiful hazel eyes? A voice that sounds like a babbling brook?” She kept the innocent look on her face. “Are those the two you mean? My friends?” Her voice grew dark in a way she hadn’t known possible of herself, but she couldn't hold it back. “Do you mean the friends of mine you tried to kill, simply because, what?” she held her hand out in a shrugging gesture, “you’re human and they’re not?”

Well, this was… confusing. Jim furrowed his brow, lips dragging down into a frown as he looked at the girl in front of him. “Well, now, I don’t know names or anything like that, but--” Well, huh. Jim relaxed his face, looking at this girl with new eyes. Little lady had bite, then. “Like I said, don’t know names. And I don’t know if I’d say ‘babbling brook.’” He laughed, finding irony in the descriptor. Of course this girl would say that the water nymph sounded like a goddamn stream. “She did babble, though, on and on about shit I just didn’t care about until I shut her up. Got to give it to her, though. Wretch didn’t cry out when I snapped her arm.” This one wasn’t fae, but, just like the boy, she was a liability. Pixy-led, they called them, led astray or promise bound, tricked by the trickiest of the supernaturals. This girl was just like the boy, a fool to fall for a pretty facade. Beautiful hazel eyes. Jim wondered if this girl would think they were so beautiful if they were the last thing she saw as she got dragged under the waves. “I’m like pest control, girl. That’s all there is to it. I’m getting rid of dangerous things. Things you might think you understand, but that you just don’t. Now, you can tell me where this Rio is, this Mina is, or you can stay the hell out of my way. We clear?”

It wasn’t the way he talked to her that set Bex off, no. It wasn’t even the things he was saying, or the way in which he talked down to her, like she knew nothing and was nothing, the same way her parents did. No, it was the casualty with which he talked about snapping Mina’s arm. Bex couldn’t help the release of anger that erupted from her. The windows next to the man cracked and shattered. The dumpster Rio hid behind caved in as if by some invisible force, crashing into it. Bex’s chest flared and she breathed in deeply, holding it. How dare he hold that memory like a laugh in his mind. How dare he think about Mina as if she were prey, a pest. Her teeth clenched so hard together she heard her jaw pop. “Stop,” she hissed through her teeth, and a pulse of magic went out and it commanded him, whether he wanted to or not, to stop. Stop talking, stop moving, stop thinking. “You get her name out of your mouth.” Her hand tightened on the strap of her purse, and, slowly, she removed it from her shoulder, setting it on the ground. Inside it, the ingredients she’d used for the spell, red hot on the palm of her hands. She locked eyes with Rio behind the man. Her entire body was shaking, and she couldn’t tell if it was from anger or fear, but she began her path forward, towards the man. Her hands were tingling with what felt like fire, all of her energy concentrated in them. She’d rip the memories from his head if she had to. She’d decided-- she would not let this man hurt anyone, ever again. “She is not a pest,” she said with shaky conviction in her voice, “and right now, she’s not the dangerous one.” She reached out her hands, placed them on the man’s head. “I am.”

Jim immediately realized that something was fucked up when he couldn’t move. He couldn’t flinch as the glass rained down on him, couldn’t blink, could even move his eyes from where they were focused on this goddamn child in front of him. Motherfucking witches. He didn’t think that witches gave two shits about fae, but what the hell did he know about these fucking kids? All of them had gone off the deep end. His brain felt like the cogs in it had grinded to a stop before they sputtered back to life, and he started to regain pieces of himself the closer the girl walked to him. He could move his eyes. He could twitch his fingers. He could grit his teeth. When she reached her hand out, Jim jerked his up. “Nice try, kid,” he grunted out, taking her hand before she could touch his head. “But I’ve dealt with fae mind magic my whole goddamn life. You’re gonna have to be better than that.” He grinned, savagely. What an important little fae this must be if she had not one but two humans at her beck and call. “Mina, Mina, Mina,” he drawled out mockingly. “What a fucking whiny name. Can’t believe something like that’s got a witch on her side, of all things.” He brought her hands down to her waist. “You’re not dangerous, sweetheart. You’re just fucking annoying.”

The movement caught Bex by surprise. She probably should have been afraid-- this man had ruthlessly attacked Mina, had even tried to go through Rio to get to her-- but she couldn’t feel her fear through all of the anger coursing through her. It was an unstoppable energy now, even as her hands were yanked down to her sides and she was held in place. She tried to pull from his grip, but he was too strong, and she couldn’t move. Her eyes went to Rio behind them. She wanted to call for his help, but her magic was volatile, he might get hurt. “Stay back!” she shouted instead. She hoped it would distract him enough to look away, but the fact of the matter was that she didn’t need him to look away. Instead, she threw her head forward, like they had taught her in those self-defense classes, and slammed her head as hard as she could into his nose. She could hear it crack. Her head splintered with pain-- oh, yeah, she had a cut on her head. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. She saw the gun on his hip and it just didn’t matter. What mattered was Mina. And how he kept saying her name and how he kept thinking about killing her and Bex wanted it to stop. She wanted him to suffer, to feel the pain and hurt and agony he had caused every fae he’d met up until this moment. And she wanted him to crumble to his knees. And she let go of all of her energy, eyes flashing, and let it pour into his head as she focused on everything she wanted this man to feel. And when he crumpled, she would take everything else from him. She would tear Mina’s name from his mouth and his mind and she would make him wish he’d never met them. 

Hunter reflexes or not, Orion knew that Bex’s magic was keeping him preoccupied. He took the opportunity when it prevented itself, sliding out from the dumpster and swinging his makeshift weapon like a bat, bringing the board against the back of the warden’s neck. If Bex’s magic was already overpowering him, then that would just add some extra fuel to the fire. The act of violence triggered a wave of unease in Rio, but he tried to remind himself of how passionately the man had tried to kill Mina and Rio just days ago. He just needed to remember that they weren’t here to kill him. Unlike him, they weren’t monsters. Rio reached for his holster, unclipping and pulling the gun free. He hated the way it fit into his palm. He had always hated guns even more than usual weaponry, but he knew how to work one. His parents had made sure of that. He pressed the magazine release, dropping the round from the gun and then cocking back the slide to release the last bullet from the barrel. Once the gun was dismantled, he tossed the pieces aside. He had no plans of using the gun and he definitely didn’t want the hunter getting to it. “Unlike you, we don’t plan on killing you. We just want to make sure you’re going to leave our friend alone.”

“Fuck!” Jim managed to shout as the girl jerked her head against his nose, blood pouring out. It didn’t do anything more than piss him off, and he was about to tell this goddamn brat that before he felt something whack him against the back of the head. He stumbled, enraged like a bull with a red flag waving out in front of him. He was pissed off, and somebody was about to suffer for it, fae or not. Nobody taught their goddamn kids the rules anymore. Nobody taught their fucking offspring to stay out of a hunter’s way. As he was about to speak, Jim felt warm, like he tended to when he brought iron to the surface of his skin. Then he felt hot, burning, like he’d been sliced and burned and cut and scorched, an agonizing burn that started under his skin and in his brain, and he screamed out, as if he was on fire, but he wasn’t. He looked at his shaky hands, but they were fine. But Jim was on fire. He couldn’t even comprehend what the boy, the one from the woods and the one who hit him with a goddamn board, was saying to him. He couldn’t comprehend the sound of the magazine hitting the ground, and he couldn’t comprehend the sound of the gun being thrown. He could only comprehend the feeling of burning on his skin, and the smell of iron in his nose, and the screams that he recognized, vaguely, as ones that he’d caused melding with the sounds that came out of his clenched teeth as the realization that this is what cold iron felt like on the skin of a fae overwhelmed him. Jim fell to his knees, clawing at his skin. “Please,” he said, voice ragged, choked. “Make it stop, witch. Make it fucking stop.”

Bex stumbled and fell from his grip. Blood dripped down her head, the cut gashed back open. She fell to her knees, shaking. She’d used a lot of energy, she could feel it aching in her bones. But she wasn’t done. He was still able to feel and walk and talk and that wasn’t fair, was it? That wasn’t fair. He’d snapped Mina’s arm and tried to strangle Rio and if he was left to walk away from this unscatched, he’d do it again. She heaved a breath and stood back up on shaky legs, stumbling one step before catching herself. She locked eyes with Rio for a moment, breathing heavy, before she let her eyes fall back to the man on the ground, writhing in invisible pain. She’d done that. Nell was right. She had so much power. She managed to walk the few steps over to the man before she fell back to her knees in front of him. “Did you ever stop?” was all she asked, making sure he knew his fate before she reached her hand back out and placed it on his forehead. Just like in the books, she closed her eyes and concentrated on whatever memories he had of Mina, of Rio. Of hurting anyone who was fae. And she heaved with exhaustion as she cried out and ripped them from his head, her hand pulling back as if on fire, palm blazing red. 

There was nothing to do now but wait. Orion stole glances back and forth between the man and Bex. His breathing quickened as he looked away from the visible pain the man was in. He knew hunters exactly like him, had grown up with them. They valued pride above anything else. He would be doing everything in his power to remain stoic if he could. Whatever Bex was doing, it hurt. The thought made Rio uncomfortable, shifting back and forth in an attempt to clear his head from it. He thought about the way his vision began to blur as he was held underwater. This man was a monster. A murderer. If they didn’t do something, he would kill again. If the scene didn’t look so painfully cruel, Rio might almost be fascinated by what she was doing. Instead he tried to think about the fae that would be safer in the world. 

Jim managed to look up at this witch, this fucking child, who held so much distaste for him just from doing his goddamn job. He could just barely make out her question, but he couldn’t be bothered to be moved by it. Of course he hadn’t stopped, he wanted to say, but there were no words on his tongue. Why would he stop? He was doing his duty, and if that meant that he took a few extra lives that got in his way, then it didn’t matter. They were beyond saying. Fae were dangerous, they were cruel, and they would twist everything they could get their hands on until it was a perversion of itself. This girl would find that out eventually. The boy would, too. He couldn’t really voice that, though. Couldn’t really voice anything, and, as the girl cried out, Jim did, too, as he watched with his mind’s eye as all the parts of him that made him got dragged out, scrambled, distorted. Was it his mama that gave him his first knife or his pop? Was it a knife or a gun? Was it anything at all? Was he anything at all? He didn’t know. He slumped a bit, head bowed, and blood dripped from his nose onto the ground in front of him. Glassy eyes stared at it but didn’t see. He didn’t know anything at all, really. 

Bex’s lungs heaved for air as she fell away from the man, a coughing fit overcoming her; she laid out in the alley on her back, just trying to breathe. She’d used too much, she knew that, but she didn’t care. She tasted iron in the back of her throat, on her tongue, wiped it from her lips once she’d stopped hacking up air. She sat up, the world was spinning, the road was stretching out before her, Rio somewhere down it, staring wide eyed. Visions of the man’s memories played behind her eyes and she blinked heavily several times to make them go away, speckles of light dotting her vision. “Is he…” she started to say, lightheaded and dizzy as she tried to climb to her feet, stumbling into a dumpster and collapsing back to the ground. She looked back at the man’s slumped form and knew that he was. He was gone. He wasn’t going to be hurting anyone, anytime soon. She’d done it. Blood trickled from her nose down over her lips as she smiled. “I did it,” she mumbled, before her world went black and she slumped backwards onto the pavement.

Eventually, the man stopped fighting against the magic and went still on his knees. Orion tilted his head slightly at the sight. He was breathing, Rio could hear it. But he didn’t look aware of his surroundings. He took a step toward the man, “You did it?” Rio asked, unsure exactly what she had just done exactly. But Rio wasn’t going to get an answer. He heard the rush of air and turned as Bex started to fall backwards. His reflexes kicked into effect quickly, his arm shooting forward so he could grab onto her wrist just before she hit the pavement. He breathed a quick sigh of relief that his hunter reflexes had at least been good for something tonight. “Uh… Bex?” Rio asked quietly, slowly lowering her against the ground. She was probably fine, right? He knew that spells could be draining. It must be that. He couldn’t stop himself from looking back at the hunter. It was a weird feeling, knowing that the two had just taken on a hunter. Even if Rio didn’t do much besides play bait. He took a small step back and patted the hunter’s shoulder, “I’m uh- sure that you’ll be fine here.” He mostly said to reassure himself before squatting down to lift Bex up and toss her over his shoulders. And she called him scrawny. He supposed he was responsible for getting her home now. 

[xserpentlife]

7 Months

Requested: Yes: Could you possibly do a reader x Sweet Pea? Where the reader is Reggie little sister and she's dating Sweet pea and he finds out? Maybe a little angsty and fluffy?

A/N:  Thankyou to my favorite human and beta @wayward-river​ she helped me so much with this fic, so much so we actually co-wrote it. At first I had no inspiration and she helped me so much and gave me inspiration

Warning: a few fight scenes, guns scene from riverdale w/ archie.

You laid back against Sweet Pea as he mindlessly drew shapes on your arms while the TV played, you didn’t even remember what movie you had put in as your mind was in overdrive lately. Sweet Pea had won you over seven months ago. Seven months of pure happiness yet no one knew.

“Pea?”

“Hmm pretty girl?”

“Do you care that no one knows?” You picked at your nails as you stared at the wall in front of you. His hands stopped moving.

“No.” he paused as his hands started to draw circles again. “Do I wish I could take you out and show you off? Yeah, I hate that I have to pretend that I don’t know you at school-” His words were cut off as the trailer door began opening, you jumped forward as you tried to scramble to run to the bathroom but it was too late, neither of you had any warning as Fangs and Toni waltzed into the small living room.

Fangs and Toni stood as they stared at the both of you mouths agape. “What, how, when?” It seems like Fangs couldn’t even form a full sentence.

You ducked your head as you gave a small wave.

“Guys do you uh know…”

“Y/N Mantle… yeah we do.”

“Cool everyone knows everyone.” Sweet Pea tried his best to play everything off.

“Nu-uh, how long have you two lovebirds been cuddled up.”

“First off Fogarty, how weird are you? Second uh, well...”

“Seven months.” You finished for him as you glanced a look up.

“You kept a secret from me for seven months?”

“Fangs I had to.”

“I asked him too, you uh both know who my older brother is… and we’d appreciate it if he doesn’t find out… yet.”

Toni folded her arms across her chest “How do we know this isn’t some ploy you and your southside hating brother has come up with?”

“She would never do that Toni, and I love you like a sister but don’t ever talk to her like that, she is nothing like her idiot brother”

“Pea!”

“Sorry babe, but it’s true…”

“I know, but you don’t have to say it out loud” you pushed him slightly, a chuckle coming out of him, and the smile that made you fall so quick. “Do you guys wanna watch the movie with us?”

“Yes!”

“Fangs chill you’re like a lost puppy”

“Pea be nice!”

“Sorry they interrupted our cuddle sesh and I don’t appreciate it, but you guys can stay cause y/n offered” You drug him to the couch sitting down throwing your legs over his lap and cuddled into his side as Toni took the chair and Fangs leaned up against the side while sitting on the floor.

After a few hours of you mainly sleeping on the side of the couch, Sweet Pea had decided to take you home, you had tried to protest, telling him you’d just stay over but he wouldn’t risk it without a good cover, normally he’d want to piss off the older Mantle but looking at you he just wanted to protect your happiness.

Sweet Pea pulled his truck to the side of the road a block away from your house, he never chanced taking the bike when he wanted to take you home. You shivered as you slid across the seat to kiss him goodnight.

Goosebumps erupted on your arms as his hands rubbed up and down them. “Babe you’re freezing.” Sweet Pea reached into the back pulling out one of his flannels.

You took the flannel not even thinking about where you were headed. It was warm and smelled like him. Woodsy smoke and vanilla, almost like how your clothes smell after a bonfire. You leaned forward placing a quick peck to his cheek. “I’ll text you when I’m behind the enemy lines.”

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes as he gently pushed you out of the truck, watching you until you turned the corner, he never told you but he’d always inch the truck up slowly, making sure he made as little noise as possible to make sure you made it into your house safely.

You let out a content sigh as you walked into your house. Both of your parents' cars were gone, you thought you were pretty safe until you looked up into the questioning eyes of your older brothers.

“Hey Reg, what up bro?”

“What are you wearing?”

You looked down at yourself, your mind trying to calm you down. “Uhm a flannel?”

“You don’t wear flannels, I don’t wear flannels, and it looks a little big on you so I’d say that flannel belongs to a boy.”

You threw your hands up in mock surrender. “Oh you got me, it’s Jake’s we went for Pops and then went to the park and it’s chilly, he was a perfect gentleman. You should be proud at least one of your bulldogs has class.

Reggie watched you as you hurried up the stairs. He wasn’t quite sure if he believed you. You had been acting shady lately and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

You had texted Sweet Pea after school and had been around him and Fangs all afternoon. It was getting pretty late but you hadn’t wanted to go home so you decided to walk with them to the small convenience store for some popcorn and candy for the movie night you had planned, your parents and Reggie thinking you were in Greendale at a friends house.

You walked beside them for a while until you focused on what looked like Archie tagging the side of a building. “What the fuck is he doing?”

At this point both boys had seen what had captured your attention. Sweet Pea and Fangs headed over.

“Hey what the hell are you doing?”

Archie glanced over, “Back off I’m not here for you.”

“Oh yeah? Then whose this message for huh?” Sweet Pea got closer as he shoved Archie.

Archie tried to move forward both Fangs and Sweet Pea stopped him. “This is Serpent Territory you can’t just come here and tag our turf, so why don’t you get your ass back to the Northside, before somebody gets hurt.”

Your eyes flickered back and forth between the two boys wildly. Why couldn’t both sides just get along?

“Get out of my way, or someone will get hurt.”

You had never heard Archie talk like that before. Why was he being like this?

At his words Sweet Pea pushed you back behind him farther as Fangs stepped over blocking your view entirely.

“You just made a big mistake.”

You could hear the click of Sweet Peas switchblade, you looked to the ground as your heart raced.

At this point everything was eerily silent. Until Sweet Pea and Fangs started backing up, Sweet Peas hands behind him making sure he wouldn’t run into you and you were still behind him protected and out of view.  

“WHO MADE A MISTAKE!”

What was Archie on?

“C’mon let's go!” Sweet Pea turned making sure he was still blocking you as he mouthed the word run.

You never took Sweet Pea lightly so when he mouthed that with the worried look in his eyes you gave a slight nod as you tried to run away with them as silently as you could.

You stopped a few blocks away.

“What-did oh my goodness.” You put your hands on your knees as you bent down. Sweet Pea laid his hand on your back.

“Hey breathe, we’re okay. Everyone is okay.”

You listened to the sound of his voice as you took a few breaths, standing back up you assessed Sweet Pea. “Are..are you okay?”

“Me? Baby I’m good. I promise.” He paused as he looked to Fangs. “That redhead on the other hand, he’s in for it.”

You spent the rest of the night wrapped in Sweet Peas arms, he seemed to hold onto you just a little tighter.

Ever since the other night you didn’t like being away from Sweet Pea for very long and it had been a few days, you paced back and forth in your room trying to decide what to do. Your decision was made for you when you pulled out your found and hit his name. Instantly calming when you heard him answer.

“Hey babe can I come over?”

“Yeah, of course, I need to run out with Toni and Fangs though...Serpent stuff is happening”

“Be safe okay?”

“Of course princess, always gotta come home to you plus you’re waiting there for me, even more reason, I love you and I’ll see you in a bit”

You waited for a while, the last time you checked your watch an hour had gone by, an hour turned into two and two into two and a half, it drew the line for you. You were about to leave to go to the Wyrm terrified beyond belief of what could have happened to him. Pea was your world constantly making you smile when no one else could. You grabbed one of his hoodies and your keys about to walk out the door when it slammed open, you jumped back and grabbed the bat next to the counter, you shut your eyes ready to swing until you heard his voice.

“Baby it’s me!”

“Sorry I thought…” You looked up to a bloody and bruised Sweet Pea standing in front of you “What the fuck happened to you”

“There was a fight” You ran up to him placing a hand on his cheek as he leaned into you

“Go sit on the couch baby and I’ll get the washcloth and med box”

“Just come sit with me, just wanna have you close” You looked at him wanting so bad to help him clean up but you knew more than ever that right now all he wanted was you, so you helped him sit and then laid our head across his lap as he leaned down into your touch as your fingers raked through his hair and his moved up and down your leg.

“Tell me what happened, I wanna know Pea, Who did it to you Pea”

“Baby it’s not important…”

“Pea tell me…”

“I can’t”

“Pea. You promised me no secrets. We’re in this together.”

“Fine, it was your brother”

“My brother!” you sat straight up the news shocking you more than anything

“Did you just say my brother did this to you! I’m gonna kill him” You got up grabbing your keys, running out of the house. Pea tried to stop you before you could leave but he barely made it to the last step when you peeled out of the driveway.

You barged into your house slamming the door behind you, silently thankful that your parents were away on a business trip. You ran to the stairs yelling up, imaging Reggie was up there cleaning up his face. “Reginald!”

“Y/N what the fuck are you yelling about” you watched him come down the stairs, dabbing at his eyebrow with a washcloth. You walked up shoving him back

“What the fuck is wrong with you!  I can’t fucking believe you”

“What…”

“Like fuck Reggie, I just don’t understand what goes through your fucking... “ Before you could get another word out the door behind you opened, and you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N leave it, it’s fine”

“No Pea it’s not fucking fine”

“What the fuck are you doing here snake, get the fuck out of my house”

“He doesn’t have to leave Reggie, you don’t have the fucking authority to make him, so stop while your fucking ahead or I won’t hesitate to make you bleed form your other eyebrow got it”

“y/n why the fuck are you defending him!”

“Because he’s my fucking boyfriend”

“I’m sorry what!”

“As in I am dating him”

“Yeah, I got that part, what the fuck do you mean you’re dating him!”

“Y/N just drop it, you’re never gonna change his opinion”

“Don’t fucking talk for her snake!” You watched Reggie barrel towards Sweet Pea, you stepped in front of him, quickly being knocked down by Reggie in the process.

“y/n I’m sorry!” Reggie stared at you as Pea reached down checking you out and helping you up, he whispered asking if you were all right before kissing the side of your head

“This is what happens Reggie! You care more about where someone comes from and how they are seen than who they are. Sweet Pea is a good guy, he takes care of me”

“There is no fuckin way he could do that Y/N, I’m sorry I pushed you, but he is a fucking snake, he’s in a fucking gang, I mean he fights people! He does bad shit, ask anyone! The Sheriff, Archie, anyone will tell you they are bad people”

“The ‘they’ you talk about…” Pea grabbed your hand speaking up.

“Listen we don’t have to agree on much, but I won’t let you drag her away from me. I love your sister, I protected her when we got a fucking gun pulled on us because of your dumbass of a best friend, , and I will prot…”

“Wait You were there when Archie went!”

“You knew Archie went to the Southside to pull a fucking gun!’

“No I didn’t know he pulled the gun til after the fact, but why didn’t you fucking tell me”

“Guess we both have that question for each other”

“How did he not know you were there, did he see you!”

“He didn’t see me… I was hanging out with Pea and some of our friends when they caught him tagging the wall, none of us expected him to pull a gun, Pea pushed me behind him to protect me”

Reggie looked between the both of you and then down to your hands that were intertwined. “You, uh.” You watched him take a breath, almost like he was preparing himself for something.

“You uh protected her? Before yourself?”

“Yeah?”

Reggie looked skeptical, “Why?”

“I love her, I’d protect her from anything. I hate seeing her upset and hurt and it’s been hard for her keeping this from you,”

“Did you decide that?” Reggie crossed his arms cutting Sweet Pea off.

“No, I didn’t.”

Reggie looked at you then. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I love you Reg, but you don’t see what I see and I know you take the brunt of mom and dad so maybe that’s why you have this built up hatred but I love Sweet Pea, I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want this to happen.” You motioned in between the both of them.

“Well he showed up looking for a fight.”

You scoffed. “Andrews pulled a gun. He had it coming.”

Reggie sighed. “Look, I can’t tell you I like this...I don’t but if you are happy... I can try. Don’t expect us to be friends though.”

You nodded your head as you wrapped your brother in a hug.

“That's all I ask. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here before mom and dad get home, there’s been enough excitement for one night.”

You grabbed Sweet Pea as you headed back out the door.

“I know that’s not how you pictured him finding out, but I’m glad it’s out now.”

You smiled as you stood on your tiptoes placing a kiss onto his cheek. “Yeah, me too.”

Sweet Pea gave a soft smile. “You staying with me tonight baby girl?”

“Yeah let’s go home.”

[werezmastarbucks]

portland

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2731

music: silently by axel flovent, tear in my heart by twenty one pilots

You got tired of driving at around two in the morning. Somehow Kennewick did not satisfy neither of you in terms of sleeping. Perhaps it was the road, nervousness of traveling, and Kai’s indifference about the current situation you got stuck in, but as soon as he snuggled against you at eleven o’clock, you felt all the sleep has escaped you like a butterfly that leaps away. He was already deep in sleep, when you decided you wanted to drive at night, and Parker was sorely unhappy about getting out of bed. While you still had moral high ground as leverage on him, while it worked, you elected to use it. Then, a couple of hours later, the tiredness returned in full swing, and you stopped in the middle of the highway (the liberating truth was that you could now stop at any point while driving, without even thinking) and made him switch seats with you. 

The portable loudspeaker he had manufactured out of a big boombox was incredibly loud and workable, and you prepped it just below the windshield. As you drifted into sleep you were thinking about how practically useful this boy can actually be, and how underrated his skills were back in the real world. Even without magic he was extremely handy. He was an amazing cook, he was insanely masterful with electronics, he was more savvy about the internet than you, the child of the web world...

You woke up because he whispered right into your ear, the most gentle order you’ve ever received in your life,

“Wake up now”.

Your neck ached, crooked unnaturally, but, as you opened your eyes, you saw what he woke you up for. Kai seemed relatively unaffected, probably having seen this a million of times; perhaps there was already an alarm clock in his head going off when it was the time for sunset. It was a first for you, though. You were already in Portland, and the car was lazily crawling along the street as the sleepy houses passed you by. Bright pink and raspberry was blooming in the sky indicating the new day, again. The light was so intense that, when you caught the reflection of yourself in the rearview mirror, you saw the shade of red on your own face. Your eyes looked sleepy and foggy. 

“Are we there yet?”

“Yeah. Are you hungry? It’s almost time for breakfast”.

You looked at the electronic wristwatch you nicked from an Epson store. It was a real nineties neat cute wrist watch, and it had lighting button which drove you insane. 

“It’s not even five yet. You’re always hungry”.

“I’ve been driving for nearly three hours. It’s draining. You fell asleep in my car, I drove the whole time, but that’s okay, I’ll just avoid the holes, so you sleep fine”, he declared. You couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He gestured towards the speaker.

“That was a good song”.

“It’s my car”, you argued benevolently, feeling very kind after three hours’ sleep. Due to the fact that Kai has been decent enough to just drive the car without waking you up. And the fact he even turned down the music a little.

“I stole it”.

“You didn’t steal it. It had no owner”, Kai replied. 

He stopped the car in a romantic gesture, and you two drowned in the morning silence, ever quieter than it even was before. The wind lay still, and no bugs buzzed in the grass. You left the car just to be in the moment, to step on the ground and feel its matter, and raised your face to the sky. This was all for you and you only, and that was the first time you asked yourself,

why do they even consider this torture?

The Parker house turned out to be more like a palace. Your head swung back and forth comparing Kai with the wedding cake looking family dwelling, trying to picture him on the porch. There was a traditional old oak that yearned swings, and the big lawn, greener than that of the Salvatore’s possession. There was whiteness of the façade and the depth of the invisible basement.

Soon Kai crawled up the stairs, and sighed, in the yellowish glow of the waking skies. 

“Welcome back home”, he murmured. You tried reading his face to see if it’s hard for him, but then reminded yourself he’s been here already, probably many times.

He’s been suspiciously tolerable these first days, you thought to yourself quietly as you wandered wordless through the living room. The first red flag fluttered in your mind when you threw a look at the banisters of the stairs leading up, and saw two ropes tied to them; they hung down, empty, with loops, like dead cat tails.

“Kai, why is it here?” you asked. The boy was already head first into the fridge in the kitchen.

He walked back to you, and sighed knowingly.

“Oh, yes. They kept the house as I left it at night. As a reminder. Go up the stairs, there’s still blood on the walls, and everything. Let’s go”.

He suddenly grabbed your hand with determination, and you sensed, on the run, like he needed to hold it. Not to guide you. You ran up the stairs, and you threw a quick look at the living room, amazed at the normality of it. One would think Malachai Parker’s house would look horrific, but his tragedy was very American. Pretty cover, bloody insides. The living room had two big couches (big family, it used to be), a very curious L shaped coffee table, and a fireplace. On the shelf above, there was a neat row of photographs of the family: everyone but Malachai, of course. They wished to forget he existed, for one reason or another. Kai’s hand led you on and you went into the long, spacious wooden hall of the second floor out of three: the blood on the walls was fresh, it glistened in the first cloud light. The patterns were thick and wide, like Kai’s been deliberately pouring it around; on the floor, there was a faint trace of his bloodied steps and something else, like he was dragging... a baseball bat? with him.

You tried not to step on the blood. The little window at the end of the hall was covered with a curtain, so it was bleak. 

“Here”, he said enthusiastically. It was obvious Kai has been psyched that someone would share the whole thing with him. No matter what part of prison it was: whether the beautiful sunrises of Washington, or the evidence of the massacre he conducted in his own house.

“Wow, whose room was it?”

“The twins. Luke and Liv”, he pushed the door to let you in. The bed was turned on the side, and there was a puddle of blood under it. The wardrobe was thrashed. 

“This is where I stabbed Jo. She hid them from me with the cloaking spell. I made her talk...” Kai muttered. His eyes were opaque, and he was focused on the memory. His sight shifted under the window.

“The-ere it is”, the witch stepped to the dark spot and picked up the bat, wrapping his fingers around the handle. There was blood on the tip of it. He swung the bat in the air in a motion that made you understand he could be a baseball star. Could have been. 

“And the banisters? Who was there?”

“I hung Ashley and Sam”, he said, putting the bat back against the wall. You observed the room. His siblings, they all had names. Ashley, Sam... those who made it to the future, the twins and his own personal enemy, Josette, felt more real because you have met them. You were there when Kai merged with Luke, you witnessed his death. But to think that some of the Parkers were left in the ninety-four, hung down from the stairs, and they were children who had names... Ashley and Sam. You didn’t even know whether Sam was a boy or a girl. You asked him.

“They were best friends, Sam and Ash. Samantha was two years older than Ashley, and she was so uptight I think somebody would have killed her one way or another. She was unbearable. So bitter she didn’t have a twin, she told everybody Ashley was her age, and that they were twins, although everyone in the coven knew they weren’t”.

“She was just a child, Kai. She wanted to be a part of this important thing, too”, you shrugged.

“Yeah, so did I. You wanna see my parents’ bedroom?”

He probably saw it in your eyes that you were slowly growing anxious about the whole murder night replay. 

“What did you do to your mom?”

“I stabbed her in the throat. She had to go first, she was a very powerful witch”, Kai said quietly, watching you closely. He was cruel in a way, leading you deeper into the bleak reality of his, trying you, curious as to how much you can take. 

“I made a mistake with dad. Should’ve stabbed him, too, but I thought I’d be untrivial, and I poisoned him. Which obviously backfired right into my face”.

Kai put his hand through his dark hair, and you realized his eyes are glowing nervously.

“What made you snap?”

“When our birthdays were coming up, I realized they’d never let us merge. Even Jo herself didn’t want it. Just so you understand, merging and even dying, as a Gemini twin, is the biggest event of your life. Even if you lose, you’re not gone. You live through your twin. You give them your power”.

You weren’t saying anything. He went on,

“You think I’m inherently evil?” there wasn’t a trace of indignation in his voice; just sheer curiosity. He never had a chance to ask that anybody. He never had this conversation. He just didn’t know at all. “They always told me I was”.

“There’s no such thing as evil, Kai. It’s a tale created for kids, to make them afraid of giving in to their instincts. There’s only pain and its consequences”.

You looked away not to seem too invested. You wondered how one can let a fellow human go on for nearly fifty years with such a grave misconception about themselves; how one can allow such violence upon their own child. Violence and negligence so intense it makes them act out so aggressively, so loudly. Every single blood stain, every broken wooden thing, every swing of a bat in the hands of now twenty-two year old Malachai, was a cry, not a roar of evil deed. He was so disfigured. He was so wounded he had to inflict pain on others to be heard. And yet they didn’t hear anything except their own screams. 

You wanted to ask him the same question, am I bad for liking you so much? But you knew he had no answer. Kai was very knowledgeable about many things; he understood many things you didn’t, but he knew nothing about the philosophy of morale. He had no deep feelings, he had no deep core in him. It was burnt clean long time ago. 

Am I evil for not feeling sorry for the kids you hung from the banisters? 

Am I bad for rooting for you when you were merging with Luke?

Am I bad for siding with you against my oldest friends?

Am I bad for being the only one who gave you the benefit of the doubt, just for the sake of being the only one?

After all, it takes just one person to keep someone from breaking. But when Malachai finally killed his family, when he reached the breaking point to never be innocent again, you were still a month away from being born. 

“Take the books outside”, you asked him.

Kai looked up from the table. He was reading diligently, not skipping pages, and watching him got tedious after three hours. While he was on it, you trod through the front and back yard; made sandwiches; studied the pictures of the kids; sneaked into the basement and got horrified at the sight of Kai’s ‘room’ there. 

(Yeah, it became my room for a while, he yapped from the kitchen. He laughed at your eyes, widened in horror, yeah, it was real pain. They kept me there when they had people over... pretended I don’t exist)

His real room used to be upstairs, underneath the roof, but it became Jo’s space eventually, and there was no trace of Malachai there. It was sad how there were so very few signs of the oldest child in the house. No posters, no shoes at the door, no jackets, no used tissues, no sports awards. No clothes, no mess, no boy things, no magazines, no CDs, no skateboard. There was a TV in the basement, and a bed, a nightstand, and a couple of comic books in the drawers of it, and you felt there was a huge chunk of Kai missing, as if they had got rid of all the things reminding of him, as if it was him who died. 

“Take the books outside”.

“Why?”

“I’m tired. I want to sleep. Let’s go into the city, find a hotel or a big house, and you can read there”.

Kai looked around as if saying, isn’t it the house enough?

You didn’t know how to explain to him that staying in this place was terrible. Kai clearly missed this place although you didn’t know what he was holding on to. The family he missed was clearly an illusion. He craved the real bond, the concept of loving community, not the actual Parker people. 

“I want to burn down this house”.

He tilted his head and his mouth twitched. 

“Have you ever done it?”

“Why would I burn my own house?” 

“You’ve spent eighteen years here, and...”

“Look”, he put up his palms defensively, “obviously, you are a very creative individual with a different way of thinking, and I haven’t done half of the things you come up with, while I was here, but if you’re gonna ask me this question every time you have an idea...”

“You know fire is cleansing, right? You should know, you’re able to control it. Isn’t fire an important element of witchery?”

“Mhm”.

He wasn’t offended by the idea. He was just a little susprised. 

As Kai stepped outside, bringing the last books into the trunk of the (ugly) Buick parked in the driveway, you watched him there on the lawn. Maybe he really was the cancer his family made him to be. He looked like a hyena looking around for a dying animal to chew on. He despised this place, and its lightness, and the fact his surviving relatives thought of the exquisite way of reminding him about what he’s done. And he went around busily, like a bee mama, at the same time.

The house still reeked of blood, and frankly, you didn’t know how he could even think about sleeping here. 

You threw a match on the couch, and another one down into the basement. You knew the house would restore as soon as midnight comes, but by that time you’ll be far away from here. Wherever the books send you to. 

You’ve never seen a house on fire so close. The heat was burning your face, and you knew it burns Kai, too, so you pulled on his hand to make him step away. 

“What sucks the most is that I had every right to merge with her”, Kai said suddenly. You had to step closer to hear him over the immense screech and cracking of the house.

There was deep, pure hatred in his voice as he spoke about his sister. You realized that his bitterness about her betrayal is still fresh, and the merge did nothing to heal it. It was personal. She was his to kill.

“I would’ve shown her if she only had given me a chance. You know? Nobody believed I could win, because I’m a siphoner. But if they only gave me a chance, I would’ve tried my best and I would’ve been a good coven leader”.

“You are already”, you said. Kai squeezed your fingers with his stiff palm.

“Once we get out”, he said, dead eyes staring into you, “there’ll be no coven. I will end every single one of them”.

[canonicallysoulmates]

Last week Jensen was on Rosenbaum’s podcast, this week it’s Jared’s turn. Just like with Jensen’s I recommend checking Jared’s out it is for free on youtube, I will be linking to it at the end of this post, and I also recommend checking out his first appearance on Rosenbaum’s podcast. 

While Jensen’s appearance was recorded in the beginnings of the boys Vancouver quarantine, Jared’s was recorded a little more recently after the boys had resumed production and when they were starting on the final episode nonetheless if you are looking for information regarding Supernatural and/or the final epis you will not find them here, Jared actually didn’t talk much about the show. He did however open up about some topics including his arrest. 

Of course, they are two different people whose interviews were done at different moments in time and who got asked different questions but this had a very different feel from Jensen’s; while Jensen’s felt more interview like, this felt very much like a conversation between two friends who’ve known each other for years....the majority of the time. 

Here’s the thing, and some of y’all are not gonna like me for this....while the conversation had its deep moments and Jared opened up about some personal stuff it felt to me like a more open version of how he is in conventions. Which is not a bad thing! But it’s not like last time where he was, imo, a version of himself that only those in his circle might get to hear. There was some fuckery people, okay? There was some fuckery and we will be talking about it.

I am going to put a disclaimer here, just in case, that this post is not going to be G*nevieve friendly. Or friendly towards her and Jared’s “marriage”. 

Before we get into what Jared said and talked about, I do want to take a minute to acknowledge and say condolences to Rosenbaum and his family, one of his sisters recently passed away after being sick pretty much her whole life. 

I also wanna say real quickly that something that I really like, and I would say even respect, about Rosenbaum is how open he is about things and listening to the intro of this “episode” made me realize why it is that he gets his guests to open up so often; I think it’s because he himself is open about his struggles and his issues and he is free of judgement so if you confess to something stupid he’s not gonna judge you for it, he’s also willing to cut things out if his guests ask him too so his guests know they can talk to him and he will understand and not judge them and will respect their privacy and cut something out if they ask it of him so they can talk freely. 

Okay, after all that let’s get into what Jared said and talked about in the podcast. FYI, much like in the Jensen post, from here forth Rosenbaum will be referred to as MR for convenience. 

- The conversation starts on what I considered to be a funny note with Jared talking about his infrared sauna blanket which he travels with that is such a weird item to travel with I can’t with the white richness of it all but hey we all got our quirks 😂

- After that the conversation turns pretty serious and deep, he talked about Sadie and having to make the decision to put her to sleep. He was tearing up talking about it, and I’m not gonna lie I myself was crying - hell I’m tearing up as I’m writing this not just because I can’t handle seeing this man cry but because I know what he’s talking about, I know that pain, I know what he meant by Sadie looking at him like it was time for her to go, I know what it’s like to be in that room with a beloved pet as they’re taking their last breath...I have had to put two of my cats to sleep in the past and it’s the most difficult and heartbreaking decision one sometimes has to make as a pet owner. 😔

- Something I like about when MR and Jared talk to each other is that they have very similar personalities in some ways and they’re good friends so when they’re talking it very quickly turns into two friends talking to one another which means the conversation is all over the place. In a good way. They got into a conversation about living in the moment and how social media and cell phones can affect that; I, personally, found it fascinating. I love hearing them discuss their different POV’s about these types of topics. 

- And here’s where we get to the fake. I’m writing this post at an extremely late hour but I’m determined to get it up before I go to bed and I really wanna go to bed, so I’m gonna try to get through this as fast as possible so strap in cause there’s a lot of bullshit to quickly wade through in this section. 

Jared starts praising the fuck out of G like this man was going for it, he was really pilling it on nice and thick. So, there I am watching this with my eyes about to roll right out of my skull wondering what was up with all the fuckery cause there’s being civil and a gentleman and then there was this when a light bulb goes off above my head 💡: When this was filmed, he already knew she had been cast to play his wife on Walker, he probably figured out that by the time this aired either the news would have already been out or would be announced soon so he’s hyping her up in the only way he knows how which works anyways cause the character she’s playing is his wife and her likability is in part going to rely on people overlooking her bad acting and the nepotism to focus on her being married to Jared in real life cause people love when irl couples work together even more when they’re playing a couple. From what I’ve seen it makes people less likely to call out a lack of chemistry cause then they feel like they’re insulting the couple.

He hypes her up using the same script he and Jensen have used in the convention circuit for years when it comes to praising the wives complete with classics such as ‘i’m never home so i never knew she did so much’ and ‘i ask her what i can do and she tells me to take out the garbage’. Nothing new is added to the script, he doesn’t go into details about what makes her amazing or about “all she does” he just pretty much says over and over that she’s incredible and does so much, if he meant it and she really does “so much” why not go into detail? It’d be so easy of him to say something like ‘oh, she’s always making us healthy meals and trying out new recipes’ which can be backed up by her insta because during quarantine she did a bunch of insta stories about cooking and checking out recipe books like goddamn Jared if you’re gonna lay it thick at least put in the effort even I could hype her up better and I don’t even like her. 

It all comes off as very insincere, have y’all ever seen somebody talk about the person they love? You can tell in their voice, in their eyes, some even get a fond little smile. It’s actually quite cute to watch but there’s none of that here, even when he mentions G giving birth there’s no emotion there’s no sincerity, it’s like he’s saying all the right things but he doesn’t believe them. It reminds me off- have you ever had someone, maybe it’s a friend or a romantic partner or whatever just someone who you’re introducing to somebody else or a group of people and you really need them to like this person you’re introducing so you start to sell them meaning you just start singing their praises to an over the top extend as if you were a car dealer trying to boost up their merch? Yeah, it’s like that. 

I don’t believe for one second that she volunteered to go with him to Van so he wouldn’t be alone like Jared go to somebody else with that story ���

I did have to laugh at some parts cause he was laying it on thick as if I didn’t remember and know that he looked miserable in almost all the pics G posted of him from quarantine right from the beginning, and being all ‘she doesn’t have any time for herself’ well clearly she found some time cause she does her little yoga collabs, she’s had her little photo shoots, she’s done a bunch of sponsored ads, she did her clothing collab with Kohl’s, she started a book club clearly she has the fucking time to do things for herself and pursue hobbies. He also said with three kids he didn’t have time for himself which I found funny because I don’t know if y’all remember this but early on in the quarantine Jared and G did a livestream and in it he mentioned several times that he was using his time for phone calls and even way too seriously said he was handling cabin fever by hiding and letting G handle the kids so....

It’s also an interesting contrast between what Jensen said in his podcast appearance because while Jared tried to make it sound as if G had no time for herself and like that’d be impossible with three kids, Jensen pretty much said the opposite, he said that he and D would sometimes take the kids and entertain them so the other one could have some space to do their own thing, and even gave an example of settling the kids with a movie so the parents can have their own space at the same time. 

- Moving on from that fuckery, the rest of the conversation was very deep and interesting. He talked about going to therapy and once again mentions being afraid of fucking up his kids, but adds that he’s come to realize that no matter what he does he’s gonna fuck up his kids anyways cause that’s what every parent does even if they’re amazing. This is a statement that I very much agree with it doesn’t matter how amazing a parent is they’re gonna make mistakes and fuck you up. 

He talked about his anxiety and his depression and how he doesn’t like to say he suffers from it because it makes him sound like a victim he prefers to say he deals with anxiety. 

This is gonna sound so weird but I loved something Jared said about death, MR talked about his anxiety and he said that his psychologist told him anxiety is always in the backseat and a. that is so true I think pretty much anybody who suffers from anxiety can tell you that it’s always there but b. Jared mentioned that he head somebody talk about death the same way, that death is always in the passenger seat but they become a friend. I know for some this might sound concerning or macabre but personally I think this is the best way to think about death not as something to hate but as a friend who is always besides you and that doesn’t mean you’re in any rush to welcome its embrace but it does mean you don’t fear it. 

He said that now a days if he wakes up and doesn’t feel anxiety he’s like ‘what’s wrong?’ which honestly relatable af

And I am paraphrasing btw, this is the cliffnotes version of a very deep in-depth part of the conversation between him and MR starting when they’re talking about therapy the whole thing is very interesting I’m not doing it justice. 

- Towards the end of the podcast Jared opened up about his arrest. He said he has no real recollection of what happened, he doesn’t know if maybe he was drugged or just got black out drunk but he doesn’t remember the fight he just remembers up to the point of going to his friends bar. He has seen the security tapes of that night, saying he didn’t recognize himself due to the way he was acting. He thinks perhaps because he has been jumped before that maybe he acted on instinct to fight back. It is not something he is proud of and he doesn’t make excuses, he knows he fucked up. He also says he has not drank since then. 

I am very proud of him for opening up about this, and for either quitting or limiting his alcohol consumption - quite honestly I’m not sure if he has full on stopped drinking or if he is just limiting himself to only once in a blue moon cause I do know people, hell I am one of these people, I don’t drink 99% of the time but if it’s a special occasion or I’m just chilling with someone I know and they’re having a drink I might have one or a sip or two so technically I don’t drink so I don’t know if maybe that’s what he’s decided to do or if he’s quit alcohol forever, either way I’m very proud of him. I’m proud of him for opening up about this and for talking about his mental health and therapy.

With the exception of some fuckery he really did open up about some things and I highly recommend giving it a listen/watch because when it’s the real him talking it’s a very insightful conversation.

Inside of you | Jared Padalecki

[theotherace]

The Ruby Monkey, Chapter 1: a dusty room ao3

–oOo–

Sokka stares.

The monkey stares back, unflinching, unblinking, because it cannot flinch or blink – doesn't need to, etiher, because its limbs never stiffen, its eyes never get dry. Or maybe, the young warrior contemplates while lifting a brow, it would be more accurate to say that they are always dry.

Dry and red and-

"Sokka."

He blinks – because he can, because he has to – and loses and swallows a curse.

"Will you hurry up and put it away? Damn thing's giving me the creeps", Suki mutters.

"Something's up with this", he says and finally grabs the statue, finding it much lighter than expected. "I don't know what, exactly, but ... it has this ... aura. I can't explain it. I don't know why General Iroh'd want it around, though, because something about it is definitely not right."

Somewhere across the room, Toph snorts.

"Aura? You've been hanging around Ty Lee too much."

"No, he's right", Aang says. "At least if he's talking about the monkey."

He pops up behind one of the bigger boxes, right where Sokka suspects Toph is sitting, and pulls himself up onto it, clambering over to Sokka and Suki so quickly, they'd have missed it had they blinked. Atop a box still, he leans forward to better inspect the statue in Sokka's hands, who can count the hair on his friend's chin on one hands, as close as he is now.

"It's got a weird energy about it. I didn't wanna say anything when we got here, because you guys don't like hearing about my ... spirit mumbo jumbo-"

At that, he throws a pointed look in Toph's general direction. The girl's pale hand has already risen above the box to flip him off – they've been weirdly in tune with eachother this whole get together, but that's something to think about at a later time, Sokka reckons.

"-and really, I'm not sure what it is that bothers me. But something does."

"I've never liked that thing, either."

Zuko's voice is somewhat muffled, words a little hard too make out, but there is no mistaking the disdain in it, and Sokka grins. It isn't often that Zuko admits to disliking something his Uncle values, if pulled faces and forced grins when sampling a new kind of tea don't count.

"But he had to have it. Never understood why."

"Because he likes weird stuff. That's hardly new", Toph says. "Just put it away so we can get done here. Where'd all this stuff come from, anyway?" She grunts. "He can't have collected it all in the last three years."

"He's been collecting stuff all his life. Throughout our travels, too."

"Didn't somebody blow up your ship at some point? It can't be from then."

Zuko sighs, shrugging.

"Well, the monkey survived. Other things might've, too."

He's appeared beside a tall vase – easily tall enough for Toph to hide behind standing up – and glances at the thing. Aang is still staring at it intently, as well, grey eyes narrowed, lips pressed together.

"Put it away", Katara pipes up, not annoyed yet, but certainly tired of sitting in this dusty room all day, the same way they all are, and done with them talking endlessly about every third object they pick up – the monkey isn't the first thing that's held them up today. "It's just a statue. And an ugly one at that, really, so the sooner it goes in the box, the better."

"Admit that it creeps you out, too."

"It doesn't. It's just an ugly piece of art. I mean, your drawings don't creep me out."

"Oh, ha ha, very funny."

He moves, then, finally, to put the mokey into the open box right beside him, just as Aang reaches out both hands, all eager fingers and curious eyes, and Suki makes a grab for the statue as well, rolling her eyes in exasperation, to do what Sokka's out off for long enough. Their hands collide, of course, and the creepy thing falls before either of them can move a muscle, lands and breaks just as Aang flicks his wrist to pull it back up.

"Shit", Sokka groans.

Suki and Aang stare at the shards.

"You broke it", Zuko says, incredulous, though there is something like relief in his voice.

"Not on purpose!", they reply like one, eyes snapping up, gazes fixing on him.

"Relax", Toph says as Katara hides a snicker behind her hand and a soft mist begins to waver at Sokka's feet, as if rising from the broken statue. "I can fix it. My first and worst student–"

"Oi!"

"–should be able to, as well, but let's not leave it up to him. Wouldn't want Uncle to notice how clumsy the lot of you are, even when handling his–"

But the last word gets stuck in her throat, and then a surprised shout is yanked from it and all of them when the room tilts – doesn't seem to, does –, and boxes and young people fall, from the ground, past eachother, through space that cannot possibly fit into the small, dusty room the were in just seconds ago, and seconds turn into hours turn into years, not that any of them notice, before they all crash into floor – face first, in two cases.

Sokka groans, in pain more than confusion, at least for now.

The shards have disappeared from the floor.

"What just happened?", Zuko moans, whose nose feels like it has been permanently flattened. "Toph, that wasn't funny."

"Wasn't me."

She sounds offended at the very thought that he'd consider she'd done this, like flipping a room just to mess with them isn't exactly what she'd do – if she could. Sokka doesn't think she can. Or would. Move a mountain, maybe, but she can't flip a room without bringing down the house, and she wouldn't destroy the Palace like that.

Not until Zuko really pisses her off.

"Where are we?", Aang asks.

They look up.

The boxes are gone, the disarray and clutter, replaced by almost empty shelves lining the walls and even thicker layers of dust than they had already gotten used to. The sole window is covered by a heavy curtain, which it wasn't a minute ago, and the room is darker than it should be, but it is still the same room, walls and window and door in all the right places.

"The Palace", Suki says matter-of-factly.

"Are you not seeing what we're seeing?"

"Yes, I am, but where else should we be? Obviously this is the Palace and not an Air Temple. Easy enough to find out, anyway."

She pushes herself up and onto her feet swiftly.

Sokka attempts to do the same, but freezes when Suki does, just a step away from the door, hand already hovering halfway between herself and the handle.

"What is it?"

Toph answers, but that's just as well.

"Someone's coming."

[khiphop-stories]

Getting Off The Wrong Foot

[Christian Yu | Chapter XI]

Previous Chapters:

Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI | Chapter VII | Chapter VIII | Chapter IX | Chapter X

“Are you falling for me too?“ He asked, his eyes locked with yours. Your widened eyes rested on him, not blinking. You spent a few seconds staring at him, your brain unable to formulate a thought. It was a question you didn’t expect at all, especially not coming for him.

“You’re worried? Wanna make a run for it?“ You then broke out into a deep rumbling laughter. Joking - that’s how you dealt with situations you weren’t comfortable with. He couldn’t have been serious anyway, could he? But unlike yours, his face showed no sign of amusement. Usually he would join you and laugh at your jokes, even if they weren’t funny to begin with. But this time, not a muscle on his face twitched. He looked at you deadpan. Was he afraid that you might cling onto him like other girls did? Was he afraid to lose his freedom?

“You’ve been a good friend to me, plus the sex is good. But that’s it. You’re safe. Nothing to be worried about. I’m not falling for you, Christian,” you assured him and you meant it. How could you fall in love with him, when your heart still belonged to someone else? He sighed shortly. Was it a sigh of relief or disappointment? You couldn’t read the expression on his face nor could you guess what was going through his mind right now. You had agreed early on that this would only be physical thing. Why was he suddenly worried about it turning into something more? Admittedly you were a hopeless romantic, but you weren’t over Kiseok yet and he knew, it was the reason you slept with him in the first place. If you had met him under different circumstances, maybe then things would have been different. But there was no room, to think about what ifs. 

“Good, ‘cause I’m really not looking for a relationship,” he then said with a confidence that didn’t sound very convincing, but you shook it off with a shrug. You didn’t want to start questioning him now.

“Good, me neither,” you agreed with him.

~*~

Keeping up the act was quite exhausting and you were slowly beginning to regret having agreed to it in the first place. It didn’t cross your mind that fooling his family wouldn’t be as easy as you had imagined. They knew him inside out while you barely had gotten to know him. You spent most of your time with physical activities and afterwards you were both so exhausted you would go straight to sleep. There was no room for pillow talks. So when his relatives told you stories about him, it felt as though they were describing a completely different person, a stranger. You learned a lot more about him in the span of a few hours than you did over the past few weeks. Ever since you stepped inside this house your entire body felt tensed, you were in constant fear that someone might see through it. Despite your worries, the afternoon went by without any mishaps on your part. You just had to endure a couple more hours, before you could go home, you thought to yourself. But before you could face his relatives again, you needed a moment to yourself. A moment where you could be yourself, not Christian’s fake girlfriend. When nobody was paying attention to you, you quickly escaped to the balcony that was attached to the living room. You took a slow controlled breath and attempted to loosen your body movements. You felt the fresh spring breeze fill your lungs. Winter hadn’t fully passed yet, it was still rather cold outside. Crossing your arms, you leaned them against the railing. Your eyes watched the sun slowly setting behind the buildings at the horizon. The sun casted it golden rays down upon the rooftops, painting the sky shades of orange and pink. Taking this beautiful sight in, your body could finally relax a little.

You heard the balcony door open and close behind you. You didn’t turn around, because you knew the sound of those footsteps. Christian stepped next to you and also leaned against the railing, his eyes following yours, taking in the picture-perfect sight in front of you.

“Are you cold?” He asked when he saw how lightly you were dressed. Without waiting for your answer, he slid the suit jacked down his shoulders, but you stopped him midway. You pulled it back over his shoulders, adjusting it neatly.

“Keep it on. You just recovered from your cold,” you reminded him. He had been lying sick in bed the past few days. Since his fever was quite high you dropped by almost every day after work to check on him. He didn’t really have anyone else to take care of him so you took it upon yourself. It was in your nature as the elder sister to worry too much. You were used to taking care of your sick brother, it wasn’t any different with Christian. It were the same symptoms and you knew exactly what he needed to heal quickly. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized out of the blue.

You turned your head to the side, looking at him through narrowed eyes. You didn’t understand what he was apologzing for. “My family can be a pain in the arse.”

You shook your head at him with a little smile planted on your lips. “They’re lovely people.” “You think?”

“My family is not that big. I only have an uncle. He never had kids so I’ve never experienced something like this. It’s quite fun, except for the interrogation part,” you chuckled lightly. It was the first time you experienced a family reunion like this. Your own family wasn’t that close, you never met up for holidays or birthdays. Your uncle only ever called when he needed something. 

“You’re lucky my aunt hasn’t found the time to talk to you yet,” he told you playfully as he lightly nudged your elbow with his. “I don’t think she can be worse than your cousins.”

“Why? What did they do?” A wide grin played on his lips.

“They asked way too many questions! It felt like my brain was exploding coming up with lies to tell,” you whined. “What kind of questions did they ask?” “How we met, who confessed first, if you’re romantic, how our sex life is, if you treat me good,—“

“Our sex life?” Christian repeated with arched brows. You could see the smug smirk on his lips even though he was trying to hide it. Of course, out of everything you had said, it was that part that caught his attention. “What did you say?” “I said it was good,” you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, deciding to completely omitting the part where you fantasized about him.

“Just good? That’s an understatement, you make me look bad!” He grabbed his chest, pretending to feel offended. “You should have said that I am the best you ever had.”

“That would’ve been a lie though,” you immediately retorted without thinking.

“I’m not your best?” He asked you in a high-pitched voice, looking at you in disbelief. “Who is then?”

Christian was, but you didn’t want to admit it to someone whose ego was as big as his. No, you would never admit it to him, because then you wouldn’t hear the end of it. “Kiseok?” He took a guess as you didn’t answer his question. Even now you remained silent. “The way you described him I thought he was a rather selfish lover. Guess he was doing something right,” he then said trying to provoke a reaction from you. Suddenly Christian shifted in his position. He stood in front of you, his hands grabbing the railing, his arms either side of you trapping you in between. 

“Let me redeem myself, then.” He leaned his muscular body against yours, pressing your back against the cold railing. You felt a shiver run down your spine. “I’ll be the best you ever had.” One of his hand slid under your dress, pushing the soft fabric up your thighs. Then it worked its way to your butt, giving it a tight squeeze. His head moved closer and  he covered your mouth with his in a hungry kiss.

“Your family, Christian,” you reminded him sharply as you were struggling to push him away. Truth be told, you actually didn’t want him to stop there, but you weren’t going to embarrass yourself today. Not in front of so many strangers that he called his family. It was only a glass door that separated you from his entire family. Even though they couldn’t see you because of the thick curtain hanging over the door, it was too risky. Somebody could have come barging  in at any given moment. 

“I don’t think I can wait ‘till we get home,” he groaned at the loss of contact. He tried to kiss you again, but you quickly turned your head to the side. Then you felt something hard pressing against your lower abdomen. You lowered your gaze and your jar dropped open at the sight of the bulge in his pants. “You’re unbelievable, Christian,” you shook your head at him as you threw him a glare.

“I can’t help it,” he whined. He bit down on his bottom lip as his eyes caressed your body. 

“You look so sexy today,” he whispered in your ear, before kissing your ear lobe. You felt his hot, uncontrolled breath brushing against your skin. “C’mon, Min.” “Nope,” you shook your head. “Your whole family is right on the other side of the door!”

“Don’t make me beg for it,” he whispered in a pleading tone. He almost had you there, the expression on his face, his deep voice and the way he was looking at you. It was too much for you to handle, you needed to get out of there, before you would give in to him. 

“Take care of it yourself,” you told him, trying to sound as cold and sharp as possible. You smoothly wriggled out of his arms and walked towards the door. “Fuck,” a deep groan left his mouth. “Can you at least stay with me until…my dick has calmed down.”

“Fine,” you turned back again and walked towards him as your eyes mustered him.

“Shit, Minhee, don’t look at me like that. It’s not helping,” he complained out of the blue. “That’s my face!” “Turn around,” he ordered. Not waiting for you to follow his instructions, he grabbed your shoulders and turned you the other way. He closed his eyes, trying to distract himself, trying not to think about the things he wanted to do with you. But the image of your naked body kept reappearing inside of his head and he was getting more and more turned on by the second. “I just took a huge dump today,” you said out of the blue. His eyes shot open. “What?” “It was really nasty and it smelt horribly.” You thought the more disgusting the story you invented was, the quicker his erection would disappear.

“That’s information I didn’t need to know.”

“Did it help though?” “Not at all,” he shook his head with a laugh.“I’m gonna go to the restroom.You need to cover for me though.” He walked behind you so nobody could see his little friend down there. When you reached the restroom, you parted with him. You went back to the living room where the party was at. As you were standing in the room like a lost puppy, his mother walked over to you and kept you company. Although she did ask you a couple questions, she didn’t make you feel like you were being interrogated. The way she was speaking to you, you were the one that wanted to tell her more about yourself. That’s the power she had. You ended up revealing a bit more about yourself than you had originally planned. 

“To be honest, I was a bit scared he wouldn’t be able to love again after Nayeon.”

It was the first time someone mentioned the name of his ex and judging by the how softly she spoke about her, she must have liked her quite a bit. His ex must have gotten along well with his mother. She probably fooled her just like she had Christian wrapped around her fingers. But how was what you were doing right now any different to how his ex played everybody? You weren’t being truthful either, so how could you condemn someone else for doing exactly what you were doing right now.

“He’s someone with a big heart. He just needs to find the right person to give it to. I’m really glad he’s found you. When he told me about you he was grinning from ear to ear. I missed that boyish, carefree look on him. He seems to be really fond of you.” “I don’t think so,” you blurted out without thinking. His mother had such high hopes for you, it didn’t feel right to be lying to her.

“Don’t say something like that, dear. Rome wouldn’t introduce a girl he wasn’t serious about to the family. And I can see why he likes you so much.” “No…he…I-I mean…” you stuttered when you couldn’t find the right words to explain the situation. “We’re not really dating. I’m sorry for lying to you,“ you blurted out without thinking.

“If you’re not his girlfriend, then…” His mother looked at you confused. “I’m just a friend. He asked me to come, because his aunts were pressuring him so much. I’m really sorry.” “It’s ok, dear. My sisters can be kind of…obtrusive sometimes,” she agreed with a laugh. She didn’t seem to be caught off guard by the new information. You expected her to be angry with you, but she seemed to be taking it rather relaxed.  

“But your son is a really great guy. I’m sure he’ll find the right person,” you meant what you said. Those were probably the first true words that you had said today. 

“Sometimes you miss the forest for the trees.”

“What do you mean?” “Never mind. There he is, I’ll leave you two alone,” she nodded to Christian who had just  appeared in the crowd. 

~*~

“What were you talking about with my mum?” “I kinda fucked up. I’m sorry,” you admitted straight away as you swallowed down. “What happened?”

“I couldn’t lie to your mom. She knows we’re just pretending.” You expected him to be angry. He had been a great emotional support to you without asking for anything in return. It was only one simple favor, yet you couldn’t even manage to get through the day without messing up. “Well, it’s my mum,” he sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “She probably knew anyway.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be?” He looked at you dumbfounded as he let out a laugh. “I got my aunts off my back. That’s what I wanted in the first place.”

“I’ll go get some drinks.” “No,” you hurriedly grabbed his hand, pulling him back. “Please don’t leave me alone with your family,” you said with panic in your eyes. You weren’t sure you would survive another interrogation by his cousins. 

“Okay,” he chuckled softly. “I won’t leave your side.” “You can let me go, you know?” He looked down and your eyes followed his. You didn’t realize you were still holding his hand until he pointed it out.

“Sorry,” you quickly pulled your hand back as if touching fire while an awkward chuckle left your lips.

~*~

[Time leap]

“Mum, we’re heading home first. Minhee has a meeting early in the morning.“

“Where is she?“ His mother looked left and right, searching for you.”She’s waiting in the car.“ Christian wanted to bid goodbye to his mother, but after the incident between you and his mother, it didn’t feel right to appear in front of her again. You felt too guilty for lying.

“Confess to her before it’s too late.“ “What?“ He looked at his mother with big eyes, completely startled by her words. “Mum, it’s not like that. I just asked her to pretend to be my girflfriend, so I won’t have to go on those stupid blind dates.“ “Rome, when do you ever learn that you cannot deceive your own mother? I know my son. And I know when he is in love.”

“I’m not in love with her. Really. She’s a just good friend,“ he denied again as he shook his head. He knew once his mother was set on something, there was no changing her mind whether she was actually right or wrong. But why was he so adamant in proving her wrong right now? Whom was he trying to convince?

“Don’t wait too long or you might miss your chance.“

“I don’t even like her that way. Neither does she,” he tried to explain to his mother. 

“I see the way you look at her. That’s not the look of someone who’s looking at his friend…” “Mum, it’s really not like that. She’s a good friend…and she’s in love with someone else anyway. She was just trying to help me out because I asked her.”

“If you wait too long to acknowledge your feelings, you might lose her.”

~*~

Ever since Christian returned to the car he had been rather quiet. He didn’t talk a lot throughout the ride and it made you wonder if you had said something to irritate him. You tried to backtrack your conversations with him. He didn’t seem angry when you had told him that his mother knew the truth. He was still goofing around with you afterwards. It was only after he went in again to say goodbye to his mother that his mood suddenly changed. It must have had something to do with his mother, you concluded. “Did your mom scold you? I’m sorry. It just didn’t feel right to lie to her.�� “Nah everything’s good,“ Christian quickly shook it off and gave you a reassuring smile. It was a half-hearted smile. You could tell his mind was somewhere else and he didn’t put in much effort to hide it. 

“Why are you so quiet then?“ You probed further. “I’m just a bit tired.“ He closed his eyelids and crossed his arms in front of his chest, sinking into the seat. You reached out one of your hands while the other held the wheel, your eyes still focused on the roads. You touched his forehead to check his temperature which made him flinch. “What are you doing?“ He pushed himself into an upright position, his full attention now on you. “Checking your temperature.“ “I’m good.“ “You sure?“ His forehead was warm, it wasn’t quite a fever yet, but it wasn’t the normal  body temperature either. “I’m fine, Minhee,“ he chuckled.

“Then what’s going through your mind?“

Christian looked away from you, then down at his shoes. Still not meeting your eyes, he touched the watch on his wrist and played with it for a moment. The car remained utterly silent. You heard the sound of his breaths, irregular and shaky. 

“What you said earlier…”

“What exactly?“ You had spent the entire day with him and his family, you had said a lot of things to him. It was impossible to remember everything or guess what he was referring to. “You said you’re not falling in love with me.“ “You’re still worried about that?“ You chuckled, your shoulders falling in relief. You thought it was something serious, but if it was only that bothering him, he had nothing to worry about. “How can you be so sure? I mean it’s possible that you do, isn’t it?“

You spent a moment thinking about it, but you couldn’t imagine dating him, or dating anyone in general right now. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen.“ “Why not?“ “You’re not my type,“ you answered shortly and simply. “What is your type?“ “Well, for starters someone who’s not afraid of commitment.“

“I’ve been in relationships,“ he pointed out matter-of-factly. 

“I know, but…you don’t want to be in one right now, do you?“

“Where did you get that idea?”

“You said that! And you’re not really making an effort in meeting someone or going on dates.”

He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t say anything. After all you were right and he couldn’t dispute that. He was way too busy to meet someone new and go on dates. Getting to know someone was a time-consuming activity and he didn’t have time left to spare. The time he had, he wanted to spend with you. 

“Ian, you don’t have to worry,” you assured him again. “I don’t even wanna be in a  romantic relationship right now, neither do you. I want some time for myself, you know. Just focusing on work and myself, I’ve been neglecting that for too long. It’s just sex, no feelings involved.” You words were supposed to give him assurance. You thought that was what he wanted to hear, but they had a different effect him. Christian remained silent again. He glanced out of the window, then at his feet. His gaze danced around, avoiding yours. 

”If you’re that worried that I might catch feelings, we could just stop-”

“I don’t wanna stop,” he replied almost immediately as though it was a reflex. “What is it that you want then?”

He didn’t answer that question, because he knew he couldn’t have what he wanted. He’d be asking for too much. “You’re right,” he let out a shaky breath. For a moment, there was no sound. 

“Let’s stop.”

~*~

You parked his car in the underground garage of his apartment. You turned off the engine and pulled out the keys, before returning them to their owner.

“I can’t drive you home, because I drank,” he said with an apologetic look on his face.

“I know, I’ll just take a cab.” “You can stay, you know,” he offered as he awkwardly scratched the back his head. “And do what?” Whenever one of you stayed for the night, there was only one purpose. But sex was out of question now that you both came to the mutual agreement to stop. Staying for the night and not sleeping with each other seemed weird to you. It felt wrong.  

“Right…” he let out an awkward chuckle. “Text me, when you’re home.”

~*~

[Time leap]

You were brushing you hair when you heard the sound of the door bell. You hurriedly walked to the intercom while your hands were busy tying your hair into a bun which was rather difficult without a mirror. At times like these, you wondered why you let your hair grow that long in the first place. It would be a lot easier if you just chopped everything off. You turned on the speaker function and told Christian that you would be down in a minute. 

“I’ll come upstairs.”

“Why?” You wondered, but still pressed the button to open the door. I felt a bit weird, he hadn’t taken a step inside your apartment since you both agreed to stop the physical activities. All you ever did at home was related to sex, that’s why you never bothered to invite him in again.You left your apartment door ajar so he could enter himself and stepped in front of the mirror to fix your bun. You heard the door closing, before Christian appeared in front of you. He was carrying a small wooden box in his hands.

“What’s that?” Your eyes followed him. 

“Peaches,” he answered shortly before he led himself into your kitchen with you following behind. He placed it down on the kitchen counter. Clapping his hands together, to wipe off the dust. You stepped next to him and took a peak inside. 

“My aunt grows them in her garden. She sent me two boxes of it and told me to share them with my girlfriend,“ he said with emphasis on the last word. “The perks of being Rome’s fake girlfriend,” you said playfully as you took a quick look at the peaches. They looked delicious. Smiling to yourself, you felt a warm and fuzzy feeling, a feeling you weren’t unfamiliar with. Kiseok’s parents had a little farm where they grew their own crops and they would always sent you some. They made you feel welcomed and loved, just like Christian’s family did. The only difference was that their friendliness was based on a lie. You weren’t really deserving of it.

“Let’s go.” Christian saw the subtle change in your facial expression, so he tried to divert your attention to something else. You quickly grabbed a jacket and followed him to the elevator which really took its time. 

“You sure you wanna watch that movie?” He asked you out of the blue. “Why? What’s wrong with it? I heard it was good.” “I read some reviews…” His face turned dark.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared?“ You broke out into rumbling laughter. You didn’t think he would be scared of horror movies. He always gave a reliable and gutsy impression, someone who wasn’t scared of anything. 

“A little bit?“ He chuckled shyly. “I mean…you should have read the reviews!“ “You said you liked horror movies!” “I don’t.” Since none of your friends wanted to watch that movie with you, you had bothered Christian for over a week until he finally gave in.

“Why did you agree then?” “‘Cause I missed you.”

Your body froze for a brief moment as you blinked at him, a sudden warmth shooting through your body. 

“Now you’re just sweet-talking me,“ you chuckled lightly as you rolled your eyes.

“Did it work though?“ He grinned at you playfully. 

“A little bit,“ you winked at him with a smile.

“So we’re not watching that stupid horror movie?“

“Well, I don’t want you to wet your pants at night,“ you took this perfect opportunity to tease, a smirk spreading across your face.

In this moment a high-pitched tone indicated that the elevator had just arrived. The door slid open, revealing a silhouette standing on the other side. You didn’t pay much attention as you were immersed in the conversation with Christian. Without looking, you walked straight into the elevator. Christian quickly pulled you back, stopping you from bumping into the person in front of you. Confused you looked up, your entire body froze and a string of nerves tightened in your ribs upon seeing that familiar face.

“Kiseok…,” you whispered to yourself, still not believing your eyes. 

“Can we talk?” He asked you with caution, his voice sounded soft. 

“I-I…actually have plans right now.” You wanted the words to be firm, strong, but instead your voice was shaking. You glanced at Christian, with your eyes you pleaded him to help you to get out of this sticky situation, but he didn’t seem to get it, or maybe he did, but he just chose to ignore it.

“I’ll give you two some privacy. I’ll wait in the car,” he told you as he walked into the elevator, leaving your side. No, no, no, Christian, don’t leave me, you shook your head slightly, giving him all the signs you could think of to make him stay. But he didn’t. He waited for Kiseok to leave the elevator, before he pushed the button that brought him to the ground floor.

Fuck, you cursed inside of your head. You didn’t know what to feel right now, overwhelmed with contradictory emotions. You were angry with Christian, as he left you alone with Kiseok without a second thought. You didn’t want to talk to Kiseok. Christian out of everyone should have known how much you dreaded seeing him again. Yet he left. You felt betrayed by someone you thought would have your back when you needed him. At the same time you felt hurt and scared of the conversation that was about to come. 

“What do you want, Kiseok? Did Jay send you?“ You quickly regained your composure, not wanting him to see you in a vulnerable state. “No, I decided to come myself.“

“Why? You have more insults you want to rid yourself of?“ You asked him in a mocking tone. “I’m sorry for how I behaved at the party. It was inappropriate,” he said out of the sudden. An apology coming from him was the thing you least expected. “I got jealous when I saw you with him.“ It had been a while since you heard honest words coming out of his mouth. “And you thought picking a fight with me in public would it make it better?“ You snarled back at him with sarcasm. 

“No…I-I didn’t think at all to be honest. I had one too many and I leashed out at you.“ You knew it was a sincere apology, yet you weren’t satisfied. You weren’t sure what you wanted to hear from him, but nothing he said could subdue the anger you felt towards him. It wasn’t only anger either, more than anything you felt hurt and betrayed. “You’re excuses are getting worse.“ “Look, Minhee, it’s not easy for me. We’ve been together for so long.“ “And you think it’s easy for me?“ You looked at him in disbelief as you let out a scoff.

“Well, you’ve found yourself someone else pretty quickly.“ “It was just sex.“ You didn’t even know why you felt the need to set it straight. It was none of his business anyway. It was your life which he wasn’t a part of anymore due to his own doing. “I saw the way you looked at him.“ “And how am I looking at him?“ “The same way you used to look at me.“ You shook your head at him and let out a chuckle in disbelief. “God, you’re so paranoid. I’m not in love with him. I think I’d be the first one to know if I like someone or not.”

“What is he doing here then? I know you, Min. You don’t invite just anyone to your home.” You had no idea how the apology turned into an interrogation and you didn’t feel comfortable with the direction the conversation took.

“I don’t owe you an explanation, Kiseok.” “It’s just unfair that you get to move on with your life while I’m still miserable.“ “You have no right to say that. You walked out on us the moment you fucked her and lied to me.“ “I only lied to you because I didn’t want to hurt you and I didn’t want to lose you.“

“Well, you hurt me and you lost me, so that plan of yours didn’t work out very well, did it?“

“I’ve made a mistake, Minhee. I know that and I know it’s not something I can’t fix with a simple apology. But I’m trying. I’m really trying to fix it, because I can’t throw away the past four years just like that. You mean too much to me. I can’t just let you go like that. I can’t give up like this.”

In the silence that followed, you broke your gaze preferring instead to rest your eyes on the elevator behind him. “Is there nothing I can do to win back your trust?“ “I don’t know,” you answered truthfully. Would you ever be able to trust him again after all the lies he had told? Would you ever be able to believe his words without having any doubts? Was his word even worth anything anymore?

“Will you ever be able to forgive me?“ “I don’t know, Kiseok.“ “Do you still have feelings for me?“

Wow, this was a pretty long chapter! The longest yet I think? Hope it wasn’t too boring to read haha. What do you guys think? Is his mother right? Why did Christian leave so suddenly? What will Minhee's answer be? Are you Team Kiseok or Team Christian? Looking forward to reading your comments! :) And I hope you all are staying healthy! 

[spevonnie]

The Butterfly's Always Bigger in Somebody Else's Mind

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Of course Connie had heard the term before, her mother was a doctor. And it was certainly no surprise when her boyfriend was diagnosed, of course. It wasn't exactly a secret, and anyone could see how the weight that had been put on Steven's shoulders could cause such a breakdown and such a condition. Years upon years of shouldering the weight of his family and friends’ emotional well-being and the fate of the universe itself sinking heavily into his psyche. 

Being impressed, Connie thought to herself, is not always a positive thing. Many were impressed that it had taken this long for Steven to crack, though this didn’t mean that anybody was proud of the fact that he had hidden such a large part of himself for so long, it was merely a shock, acknowledging that it must have been incredibly difficult rather than admiring the feat that had taken such a toll on him. 

Recovery, or stabilization at least, was not linear, and she knew that. There were ups and there were downs, and while her lover was participating in therapy now, and taking his meds rather consistently, she knew that she couldn’t expect things to just magically get better as they had so many times before. And this, perhaps, was why she was now pacing around the kitchenette of her and Steven’s small apartment, her phone in her hand as she massaged her temple anxiously. Her dinner, which was a styrofoam cup of packaged noodles as opposed to her usual broccoli and oven baked chicken breast, sat on the counter, cold to the touch. Her fingernails, however, had been reduced to little nubs. 

Connie finally flopped onto the little love seat in the main area, curling up tight with Steven’s sweater, which she had pulled out the moment she came in from school. It was getting chilly outside now, especially at this time of day. The night was seeping in, melding with the sunset as if the moon were drinking away the last of the sunlight through an invisible straw. Steven had a busy day today, she knew. He had a shift at the pizza place down the street, and then Lion was bringing him over to visit Little Homeworld to fix up some problems they had been having with training and to visit with the gems of course, but he had to make it back for therapy that night. This was what worried her really, the fixing and then the therapy--She expected Steven to come home worn out, emotionally and physically, and to need lots of affection and care. She was happy to give this to him, of course, but it was a fine line that she tried to walk carefully. Showing Steven love, of course, always came with the risk of admitting that she was constantly haunted by her own nightmares, her own flashbacks, her own paranoia. It wasn’t about the war, though. No, her stress was all around Steven.

For months after the war, especially when Steven had had his break, Priyanka had plagued Connie with questions about how she was doing, how she was feeling, if she was alright. Each time, Connie patiently assured her mother that the war was stressful, but it wasn’t really following her the same way it followed Steven. The strangest part, she had realized, was that this was true. It wasn’t the war. The battles, the fighting, even being held prisoner by the Diamonds. All of it had been terrifying, and it the fear had clung to her like a thick slime for  weeks after, as it had with almost everyone involved. With good self care and some mandated therapy from her mother, she was able to put most of it behind her. She just considered herself lucky, or chalked it up to having expected some big battle when she had first started training with the gems and Steven. But there was still a lingering feeling  like a chilling force starting at the very core of her being, and it only worsened when Steven began showing symptoms--It was then that she realized she, much like him, had been shouldering her own weight. And, much like Steven, it was the weight of someone else’s well being. 

When Connie had first started training with Pearl, she was still a bright-eyed, sharp-minded twelve year old girl, and she longed for connection and friends. Steven had given that to her happily, just as eager for his own connections. Of course, they had both made other friends since then, and they never once regretted becoming friends, or thought that they were only friends as last resorts--They truly loved each other, and that just made it all the more difficult as Connie continuously watched her goofy, care-free, cheeseburger-backpack-wearing best friend turn into a literal monster created from suppressing his own trauma. 

Deep down, She thought to herself as she cuddled on the love seat, chewing her nails once more and glancing at her phone. I sort of always knew it was happening. She was right, of course. And subconsciously, she had always tried to help. She knew, when she had started, that she was signing up for a battle. She didn’t know that she was signing up to have to sit back and watch, feel helpless despite all her training, as the one who had brought her into this was torn into again and again by a blade whose wound could be healed with no amount of magic. 

It became evident to her that nobody else knew the extent of the trouble when they had fallen off the battle arena after accidentally unfusing in another panic attack, and she, despite falling to her own death, comforted the crying boy. Sensible through the panic, thereby saving them both. She still woke at night with a falling feeling, causing her far more panic than it would anyone else who felt the typical falling-as-you-drift-off sensation. She still spent sleepless nights staring at her snoring lover, watching him breathe, and snore, and sweat, just to know he was alive as haunting images of his half-dead, limp body laying in her arms wavered through her mind. She still would crawl on top of him in the night to prove to herself that he was no longer the huge, pink monster that destroyed himself and their city, and he was simply her loving boyfriend, who could still fit in her arms. She never told him this of course, for fear that he would once again try to fix everything for her at the expense of his own health, which was doing so well at the moment. She could never-

“Connie?” Steven’s voice sounded through the thick fog of thoughts, and Connie opened her eyes, seeing him crouching in front of her.

Steven was looking at her with a gentle sort of concern, and he reached out to wipe tears from her face that she didn’t even notice had fallen. She shuddered.

“Steven! Hi, I’m sorry, I--When...When did you get back? I didn’t hear the door.”

“Connie,” He said gently, giving her a little look. He sat on the love seat and pulled her into his lap, hugging her tightly. “It’s okay. I’m here, and I wanna help, I-”

“No!” She interrupted, wiping her nose. Steven looked taken aback. “I-I know you wanna help, Steven, that’s what I’m worried about! I’m perfectly fine, I-I just...I messed up on a test.”

“Um...Connie..? We both know that’s not it, honey.” He said gently. “I...I promise, whatever it is, we can handle it together.”

“Steven,” She shook her head. “It’s not a big deal. You need to focus on yourself and what you need.”

“Mmm,” He nodded, giving an air of thoughtfulness. “Yep. What I need is to give my beautiful girlfriend a kiss-” he paused and kissed her hand comfortingly. 

She smiled a bit, despite herself. Sniffling, she leaned against him, hugging him.

“There,” He said quietly, hugging back. “I’m not gonna push you, Connie, but I’m always here...Whenever you’re ready.”

“But...You have your own things to work through.” Connie said quietly.

“Well of course I do, Nini, but why should that mean that you don’t either? We can do this together.”

Connie smiled a tiny bit, and Steven smiled back. They snuggled together on the seat for a long while. 

Finally, Connie said, “Okay...”

“Okay?” He said quietly as the dark seeped around them like a dab of watercolor.

“I’m ready to talk.”

And the young couple talked until the sun rose, and when the light finally crept up, back into the sky, a very calm, loving Stevonnie lay in the small twin bed that they shared, the same sweater Connie had been cuddling wrapped around them.

[flyingupward]

Venice the Musical Sentence Starters

all sentences taken from the lyrics to the musical venice. feel free to change pronouns, etc.

Act I

“All I hear is ‘left, right, left, right, left, right’.”

“I am your lifeline, your forward and hindsight.”

“To tell this story is a means of resistance.”

“Many no long living for not keeping themselves hidden.”

“This story needs a voice so I will oblige.”

“Once had freedom then we lost it.”

“What’s the price of living this life?”

“Darkness fell, our freedom taken.”

“We were taught to be proud to be from here.”

“The government dissolved and a corporation crept.”

“Twenty years of occupation has taught us better.”

“Left for dead, stuck here while the wealthy fled.”

“Bombs exploded round our heads. Get some rest.”

“If we don’t demand more from our lives, how can we expect our kids to thrive?”

“Separate, we are powerless, but together, we can rise.”

“After all of these years writing to you, I’ll finally be home by your side.”

“Is this the day that we can say you paved the way?”

“Today is the day that we find out our fate.”

“Home at last, our children reunite.”

“A divided nation torn in two demands reunion.”

“I hope you let us tell you a little story exploding onto the present.”

“I am alone, my own resistance.”

“Damned if I live this life waiting on the sidelines.”

“One time fool me and it’s shame on you. Two times fool me and it’s shame on me. Three times? There’s never three times.”

“I’ll be the last man standing when the world collapses.”

“Got them thinking my heart is gold.”

“I’ll never show what I’ll do to take the last stand.”

“She’s an illusion he’s choosing.”

“Peaceful revolution is always bound to be polluted.”

“Watch me stay focused, forever unnoticed.”

“The always obedient dog by your side’s got the worst bite.”

“The dream was better than the letters that we wrote would allow.”

“Could you believe those words could make us unite?”

“Is this our shared prayer to the morning light?

“Children write and hearts explode and dreams invite us to places we’d never go.”

“Someone so convicted in her beliefs, it can be hard to see.”

“The world was at war but this country doesn’t have to be.”

“We could be decent and generous. Don’t let hate better us.”

“Two worlds collide and fill his soul with wisdom we will never know.”

“This is the ballad of mismatched brothers.”

“I feel the void I left behind.”

“Am I strong enough to hold the weight of all their souls?

“From what I know this road is golden and I know I believe in you.”

“And so we sleep, hoping that the bombs don’t drop on our streets.”

“What you don’t see is the bomb that’s ticking.”

“I am hardly in step with your emotional dance.”

“Uninvited, unfound, in this hell of a home, opportunity knocks and it’s time to go.”

“There are many different weapons in this game called war.”

“The people who couldn’t leave, they were forced to accept whatever devil knocks at your door.”

“This is no fear of death if you never get old.”

“She was dropped on the city like a renegade, never with the promise of these better days.”

“Have you ever seen something like me?”

“You best believe I’ll haunt your dreams.”

“I can see the sunrise when I close my eyes.”

“As a kid you have a dream and it seems like nothing can come between what you dream and what you’re stuck in.”

“But when the moment’s there, will you rise up with your eyes up?”

“They look at me like I looked at her.”

“My blood trembles with desire to set the world on fire.”

“I feel the dark ahead of the dawn.”

“A spark of what I used to know stands before me all aglow.”

“Seen enough I’m not that blind.”

“They say she’ll bring us hope.”

“And are we all just children playing in our parents’ clothes?”

“And when the lights come on will we find out that we’re grown?”

“I would have done anything that you asked me to.”

“Where did I misstep? Where did I lose?”

“I wanna love and be loved.”

“I have all this money for nothing ‘cause what it buys is a disguise if you never loved me.”

“I’ve been waiting on that second chance.”

“It’s the lie of romance that over time it never stands.”

“Seen enough to make me blind.”

“I’m leaning on the brink of blazing a new path.”

“I know the dawn is coming.”

“We congregate freely, free from the evil.”

“Tonight we fucking party for a brand new tomorrow.”

“I know it’s been a long and brutal road.”

“Let me propose a toast and welcome in people who for years have been suffering.”

“Holding the weight of being held down, hell bound, lifted from the ashes, we naturally yell out.”

“I’ll give it one hundred and I’ll make you proud.”

“Imma be the remedy. Nah, I’m the elegy.”

“For all the pain, never again.”

“So the city is finally our own.”

“I’ll be free in my home.”

Act II

“People are frozen, pictures of panic painted onto their poses.”

“I am beholden for this mess.”

“All the people, they are screaming. I can hear my name.”

“Time slows and I know I don’t feel the same.”

“I’m running for a reason that I can’t explain.”

“Come and disappear with no fear.”

“My brain fails to explain the pictures I’m seeing.”

“Morning sky looking dreary like a painting painted by a guy whose demise was waiting.”

“Is _______________ lying dead when I should have been next to him?”

“I wish somebody else was lying there instead of him.”

“Vanish into air, come and stare into the light.”

“You never wish war on a people.”

“The seconds of your life just slow down.”

“My stomach eats itself. I see my own face.”

“Has something already determined my fate?”

“Time gives way. Am I too late?”

“I am death personified.”

“Your mind has been chosen. The lines have been drawn.”

“Take two steps, take one breath. Just accept your own death.”

“We will never forget and we’ll see you again.”

“Where’ve you gone, old friend, lately?”

“Have you left me here waiting to grow up on my own on this road all alone?”

“I am a desert of unfulfilled memories.”

“Death calls unspoken unseen.”

“If only we hadn’t listened to ambitions that were far beyond our reach.”

“If only there was a way to take back yesterday, you’d still be here with me.”

“If only you were a second late dreaming about yesterday.”

“If only you never came for me.”

“This morning I could feel the changes: Shadows on the wall laughing as we fall.”

“All of my moments are fractured behind me.”

“The toy of a girl has shattered inside of me.”

“Why does the silence emulate violence?”

“The cold and the quiet screams in defiance.”

“If only I had listened to the voices telling me to take it slow.”

“If only I had never wanted for better.”

“If only I didn’t stay up at night and miss you.”

“If only I didn’t feel like I feel when I’m with you.”

“If only I was never lonely.”

“If only I never came.”

“If only I never fell in love with you.”

“The air is scarily silent with the feeling any moment could explode into riots.”

“PTSD of twenty years of grief flooding heavy on the minds of those who never sleep.”

“Revenge is on the minds of the masses.”

“Ashes to ashes devolves into madness.”

“Have we reached the beginning of the end of peace?”

“Have we seen the end of out collective dreams?”

“There’s nothing that lasts forever. So we’ve discovered together.”

“What was white and black is now shades of gray.”

“They sit in the eye of the storm, looking at the city as it silently swarms.”

“Tell the people we are coming, declare a revolution.”

“Now it’s time somebody bled.”

“Is this the day that we can say you paved the way?”

“Alone, awake, her mind would race into her dreams.”

“Unsure of what the balance held, the girl grew up into herself.”

“When the man had got his way, he disappeared without a trace.”

“I dreamed a dream and so it seems that little girls have fantasies.”

“We are all the play things of men in this town.”

“What you’ll find, what you’ll see is that men could care less about your fantasy.”

“With flowers in their hands but pockets full of dust, ain’t no trust in a man.”

“Why am I stuck in this lie? I should’ve known better than to trust his eyes.”

“Should’ve read the signs ‘cause all my life I’ve been left behind.”

“See I had him, no denying that this love’s worth dying.”

“I’m as foolish as I ever was.”

“I came here because I believed in his love.”

“I thought the world had changed. It’s the same as it ever was.”

“How can I explain these mistakes I’ve made.”

“I wanted to love and be loved, but instead I’ve come undone.”

“How do I tell her that she has been deceived by me?”

“Our enemies showed us no mercy and we will show none in return.”

“When we needed you most, I watched you suburb.”

“Where’s all that wisdom that we saw in you, made us fall for you.”

“Is the world so fucked you’ve already given in?”

“Crumbled are the steps of the dream I stood upon.”

“As I stand dismayed by the mess that I’ve made, let me be.”

“Here you are stuck between us and them.”

“Maybe there’s a way, maybe there’s still hope,  but I don’t recognize you.”

“Don’t understand how the same damn man who gave hope to the land can stand before us and command that we’re going back.”

“This monster is growing with every breath.”

“Here I stand, a shade of a man with peace in his hand.”

“Now that they’ve tasted your dream, they can’t go back to where we were.”

“Right in this moment, you’ll find me dreaming about yesterday.”

“The soul lingers long after you pass. That’s why we feel like we’re surrounded by our past.”

“The air drenched in a bath of memories, a constant reminder of our deathly legacy.”

“I never took a risk and I’m scared to admit that this is how I lived my life.”

“‘That’s __________________,’ they told me, ‘a princess in disguise.’”

“I wanna be great for one instant.”

“I’m gonna take a risk and maybe I can save her life.”

“I have waited all these years for your face to reappear.”

“I have waited all these years for you to see me here.”

“I don’t need an icon that’s bygone.”

“When I was little, you convinced me that I belonged, but you were wrong!”

“Inside, I feel rage, and you died in vain.”

“I’m only half your babe, the other half: disgraced.”

“You took their lives in your hands and it was wrong.”

“You led those people in their very own death song.”

“You gave up being my mother - for what?”

“I can use force like you never could.”

“From what I know, this road’s still golden and I’ll always believe in you.”

“What we’ve been through, we can’t undo.”

“I have always loved and believed in you.”

“She has never loved or believed in you.”

“I done with you and the war you provoke.”

“You would push it till it burned with no concern.”

“With you, I believed in love, but you never loved me. You only used me.”

“So why should I be stuck in this lie?”

“She certainly loved you from far away.”

“Little children, they ran away a ways away where they could be safe.”

“She believed that you could be something great, someone great.”

“We need to grow up now.”

“Stop praying for, wanting more, playing war.”

“We’re not children anymore.”

“Look at what we’ve lost, what love we’ve lost.”

“We haven’t begun to see the sun. We need to set it right.”

“Let’s start anew. It’s what she died for.”

“Now this tale of love has ended, our has just begun.”

“If we Shades have thee offended, then go out and see the sun.”

“The world in here is just a shadow. We hide in these imaginary lights.”

“The world out there is a shadow of everything that might be right.”

“Rise up, shake hands, resume our days. Because this is all a play.”

“Just make believe that makes belief.”

“Give us just one moment to shine.”