#he is holding an entire town together by one (1) string and that string is himself trying his very best

[naivety]

scott voice dude. that's my emotional support human being

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter 1: I'm a puppet on a string

A/N: Ok guys, here we go! Thank you all for your love and support, and most of all, for waiting for this last book.  Summary: We are starting on season 15 for a little sneak peak of our lovebirds getting ready for their last day at the BAU. Spencer and his cherie have been married for some time now, and things are going great, until they don't, as they usually do. Let's join for a big flashback and understand all that happened from season 9 to season 15 that lead them to their last day at the BAU. Word count: 7.680 words.  Warnings: Alcohol consumption, fluff, angst, confusion and babies.  

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Next chapter

Spencer's point of view

Thomas Merton once wrote, "Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone. We find it with another."

Life has never been this good, not like this. I know I haven't slept well in over seven years, due to the constant demands of parenthood, but I don't mind. In fact, I think I love it. I was not a good sleeper before becoming a dad if we are sincere. But waking up ten times every night to change diapers, check for monsters under the bed, or scoot over and allow my kids to sleep next to me, kicking my ribs for the entire night has never been a problem. Because they are my babies, and I would do anything for my kids.

I no longer have every night during the week to bury my head in hundreds of books. I haven't read more than a few every week since Raven was born, seven years ago. Now, my evenings are filled with baby rambles and kids' voices as we play games and read bedtime stories.

My kids. I never thought I could ever say those words. And now look at me, father of three healthy, bright, and beautiful kids. Not even in my wildest dreams I ever imagined being alive could be so fulfilling. Now I have an honest reason to be a better person every day. My babies. My wife. My family. They are my whole life.

I have everything I ever dreamt of: me and (Y/N) have been married for almost nine years. Nine years of waking up next to her, good morning kisses, and cuddles. I still find it hard to believe that she is my wife. The love of my life. The woman I would die for. Just ask me and I will give up everything for her safety and happiness. Yes, as cheesy as it sounds. And with our career choice, a decision that we've had to make more times than we imagined.

Our eldest daughter, Raven Marie, turned seven this year. She is bright and cheerful. She is just like her mother: a natural leader and the light of my day. Vincent is four years old, and he was born an artist. He loves painting and drawing, especially on the walls when no one is watching. We enjoy our trips to the museum together, even more if we get ice cream afterward. And baby Matilda is just three months old. I love holding her in my arms as she sleeps safe and sound. It makes the whole world stop. And the way her big brown eyes stare at me, I swear she can understand every word I say. The three of them make me feel loved in a way I never even imagined.

We live in a beautiful house just outside town, which is perfect for raising our family. It has a large backyard where our kids can play. It even has a tree, so I plan to build a treehouse next summer, probably with Mikey's and Frank's help.

This is everything I always dreamed of and never thought I could have. That is why (Y/N) and I decided we would never let anything jeopardize what we have accomplished. There is nothing more important to us than our babies.

That is why it's time to leave the BAU for good.

Today is our last day as Supervisory Special Agents with the FBI. And though I always thought if this day ever came, I would be devastated, I'm looking forward to this new stage in our lives. As long as we have each other, everything is going to be ok.

I roll in bed and stare at my darling wife asleep beside me. I take in all her features, nose, and closed eyes fluttering occasionally. There are a few gray hairs already showing, stressing her out. I find them sexy if you ask me. We are already 39 years old, I have a few gray hairs myself. My wife's skin looks so soft, so tempting. I wanna mark her mine again, leaving sweet bruises from her neck to her breasts, which are almost exposed underneath her pajamas. The hickies I did last week are barely visible anymore.

But before I get into action to wake (Y/N) with hot kisses all over her body, sweet blabbing sounds coming from the small crib next to our bed catch my attention. Our baby girl is already awake. It's still too early for Matilda to open her eyes, so I roll in bed and hold my baby daughter, rocking her in my arms as we walk around the room.

- "Good morning, Jelly Bean."- I whisper and kiss her forehead- "Thank you for almost letting us sleep through the night last night. Your mom and I have a decisive day today."- Tilly stares at me with her big chocolate eyes and smiles as her tiny finger holds mine tight.

- "Yes baby. Today is your parent's last day working at the BAU, after over fifteen years of service for your mom and seventeen for me."

The words should shock me, or maybe even cause angst or pain. But nothing could be farther from the truth. I'm excited to become a full-time professor at Georgetown, come home every night, and spend time with my kids. No more travels unless they are on vacation, no more chasing psychopaths. I'm ready to leave that life behind me and take care of my loved ones daily.

I walk around the house, enjoying how it's still silent. Holding Tilly close against my chest, I open Vincent's door and watch him sleeping on his little bed. I walk over and cover him with his blanket, knowing in about forty minutes he will be running downstairs, demanding breakfast. Today is hotcakes Friday, I could start the batter and get the coffee ready after I put an eye on the kids.

I head to Raven's room and find her awake. She is sitting on her bed, holding her teddy bear hidden behind Moby Dick.

- "Birdie, what are you doing awake? it's six in the morning"- I whisper as I walk over to her and she widens her eyes, clearly busted.

- "Sorry dadda. I just woke up. I swear."

- "What happens when we don't get enough REM sleep?"- I ask her as I sit by her side, and take her book from her tiny hands.

- "It interferes with memory formation, altering my learning process."

- "Very good. So if you know why you must have nine hours of sleep, why are you awake so early?"- my older daughter giggles and hides underneath her blanket for a moment. I wait for her to show me her face one more time as she whispers.

- "I wanted to know what happened to the giant whale."

- "But this is our bedtime story, Raven. We have to read it together every night."- I try to look serious, but frankly, I feel so proud. I love being able to share my passion for reading with my daughter. Raven fixes her pillow underneath her head and covers herself with her purple blanket.

- "But I'm no longer sleepy, dadda."

- "Just close your eyes for a bit, Birdie. Try to rest and I'll make breakfast. I'll call you when the food is ready, ok?"

- "Can we read two chapters tonight, dadda? Please?"- she looks at me with pleading eyes as I place the book back on her bedside table.

- "Only if you get some more sleep now, ok?"

- "Fine... good night dadda... or is it good morning already?"- I chuckle and kiss her forehead.

- "If you are going to sleep, we still say good night, birdy."

Sometimes I'm sure I'll wake up alone at my old apartment, all this would have been a dream. I never imagined I would love something or someone more than I loved my work. The FBI was my life for so long. But this, my babies, my wife sleeping safe and sound in our house, that means more than anything I could ever achieve at the bureau.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I wake up in bed and immediately feel the cold, empty space beside me, and I don't like it. I'm used to waking up with the warmth of Spencer's arms around me or any of my kids hovering over the covers or sleeping on me. But not today. Today, I am alone on this gigantic bed, and neither my children nor my husband are in sight.

The sweet sound of my kids' laughter somewhere in the house and the smell of hotcakes catches my attention in a second. I could get used to waking up like this. No text warning me that we have to catch a serial killer. No one is trying to hurt my family. No psycho plotting to ruin our lives. Just us in our house, living our sweet dreams.

The last couple of years have been rough, to call it somewhat. Everything we ever tried to avoid from working at the BAU hit us. For a moment it felt like everything that could go wrong, did. And when I say "everything", I mean it. But I don't wanna think of those dark times, I don't wanna start this last day with sorrow. I wanna start it with coffee, hotcakes, and sweet kisses from my babies.

- "Something smells extra good in here!"- I walk into the kitchen and find Spencer flipping hotcakes in a pan, as Raven and Vincent are sitting at the table, eating already and chatting nonstop. My husband smiles as I walk to him and kiss his lips sweetly.

- "How are you today Tilly?"- I whisper as I stare at her, she is asleep against Spencer's chest, in a baby wrap we got when Raven was born, and that my husband loves beyond life itself. Try to take it from him, it's impossible. He loves carrying our kids around in that thing. And when they are too old to fit in, he just carries them on his shoulders or arms all over.

- "One day they will be too big or too embarrassed to be seen like that with me"- he explained to someone, probably some of my aunts or cousins, who argued he was spoiling them rotten. - "And I wanna enjoy every chance I get before we reach that point in life."

Now, if you ask me, I don't think our kids will ever get tired of their dad. They love him too much.

- "Mama! dadda made chocolate chip hotcakes!"- Vinny is clearly running on sugar right now- "They are tasty!"

- "I'm sure they are! They smell delicious!"- I grab a cup and fill it with freshly made coffee- "Can I get you more coffee, hon?"

- "Yes, please ma cheriè."- I pour two cups and add sugar to my husband's as he prepares a dish with hotcakes and scrambled eggs for me and one for him as well.

- "Someone went an extra mile with this breakfast today. Thank you hon"- I kiss him again and take both dishes.

- "It's a special day. You deserve the best breakfast."

- "Well, I'm gonna cook you the best dinner then" - I wink at him and look at our kids- "Are you ready for school, Birdie?"

- "Yeah. I'm excited because in math we are starting to do multiplications! Finally!"- our daughter is honestly happy about math, which I know she didn't get from me.

- "Multiplications? Why were you looking forward to that?"- Spencer asks her, as I help Vinny cut his hotcakes.

- "Because Uncle Frank said we are good at multiplication in this family, so I wanna learn all about it."

I keep my poker face and nod at my oldest daughter, trying to pinpoint any kind of scenario where Frank might have said that to her. Spencer stares at me with wide-open eyes as he clears his throat and sips his coffee.

- "Yeah, math is really fun!"- that's all I can say- "Which is your favorite subject, Vinny?"

- "Art"- I am not shocked.

- "Are you planning on making a new drawing for my desk?"- Spencer asks our son, who takes a few seconds to reply and gives him an honest answer.

- "No, Aunty Lu asked me to do one for her fridge, because her baby can't draw anything yet."- I smile and nod.

- "We should work on that drawing this weekend then."- I say to my boy and kiss the top of his head. I love that my kids know Lu, Frank, and Mikey are also family.

Lu got married a few years ago and last month she had her first baby. I haven't seen her in a few weeks because things have been crazy for both of us, but we text daily. A lot has changed, but our friendship remains the same. Mikey got married as well, to a girl he met at work. They have been together for five years and have a baby girl. I have never seen him this happy before, and it fills my heart with joy to know he is living the life he always dreamed of.

Meanwhile, Frank is still single. Not shocking news, I know. He has a steady girlfriend though, and they are very happy. He and Tarah have been together since Spencer and I got married, and they have the cutest dogs and cats I've ever seen.

- "Ok kids, let's get ready for school."- I put the dishes in the sink and watch our kids run upstairs. Spencer smiles as he finishes his last sip of coffee and I walk to him to take Tilly in my arms.

- "I'm gonna get this little lady ready to spend the day with Nana Sofia so you can take a quick shower, ok?"

- "Thank you, ma cherie."

- "No, thank you for breakfast, Daddy."- I whisper and kiss his coffee-tasting lips as he stares at me, raising an eyebrow subtly. I am teasing him, and I know it. But I can't help it. I love it when he stares at me with those hungry eyes.

- "We have some extra time, in case you wanna join me in the shower."- Spencer whispers and stands in front of me, wrapping his arms around mine, and moving his hands up and down my back, underneath my pajamas.

- "Mom!!"- Raven yells from upstairs- "Vinny got back into his bed and said he won't go to school today!"

- "Hold that thought until tonight."- I sigh and peck his lips- "Take that shower while I get the kids ready."

- "Fine, but you owe me, Mrs. Reid."- I chuckle at his words and shake my head, walking out of the kitchen with our baby secure in my arms.

- "Dr. Reid, I'm keeping count, and as far as I remember, you owe me, big time."

Spencer's point of view

As I drive to our last day at work after dropping the kids at school and Tilly with (Y/N)'s mom, I start to do the math of how many times I've driven us to work in the last few years. Plus all the times I took the subway to get there, before we got married. I know during all those times I never imagined how the last time would feel like. I never even imagined this day would ever come until Raven was born. Ever since I knew she was coming, I seriously considered dropping the life I knew to do anything else. Something that didn't include putting my and my wife's life in danger daily.

After we got married, (Y/N) and I spent a few years trying to catch up with all the time we wasted not confessing our feelings. There wasn't much left to know about each other that we didn't deal with being friends, but being a couple was a completely different thing. Our job came with certain unconventional situations, to call it somewhat. Like the day I realized how badly I wanted to be a dad, after delivering a baby in front of an unsub.

It happened almost eight years ago, not long before we discovered we were going to become parents for the first time. I remember I was out for a drink with Rossi, who had taken very seriously his job to help me transition from a single man with no clue about dates, to a man married to the woman of his dreams.

That night he took me to one of his favorite bars, which apparently had seen better days. It was old, dirty, and mostly empty, except for a very old guy singing karaoke at the back of the room, and some regulars.

- "That's where I saw Carolyn for the first time."- Dave pointed at a table in a corner, where a guy seemed to have passed out. I widened my eyes and looked at him, not impressed.

- "No offense, Rossi, but this place is kind of a dump."- of course, he was offended.

- "Oh, back then it wasn't."- he argued and tried to sell me the place - "Back then, the biggest names would come here: Creedence, The Eagles, Chicago. It was a Marine bar. They played for us jarheads."

- "What was Carolyn doing here?"- I asked, trying to focus on the story and not on the number of bacteria in every glass in that bar.

- "Waiting for Ringo."- Rossie replied as I stared at him surprised. - "Beatlemania was no joke. I mean, it would make the women crazy. She'd write them a letter once a week, begging the band to come visit."

I smiled thinking that sounded like something (Y/N) might have done as well, though instead of writing letters, she would tweet her favorite band and spam them with messages begging for a show in town.

- "Did they ever come?"- I asked and Rossi nodded, with a smile.

- "Ringo did, after his divorce. But luckily, Carolyn met me first. But that's how we all became friends."- I was about to add something when the waitress arrived with our second round.

- "Devil honey for Dave and a light beer for the kid."- I smiled at her and whispered a shy thank you as she left the bottle in front of me. I was about to sip it when the sound of a text message coming from David's phone reminded me duty ruined most of our fun times.

- "Oh, on second thought, Helen... it's Garcia."- Rossi announced and looked at me.

- "So much for a night off."- I sighed and left the bottle back on the table, untouched.

- "You better bring us the bill."

- "Ok. That'll be 10 bucks."- the waitress replied quickly, and I moved to grab my wallet, but David stopped me.

- "No, you can charge us for the drinks we didn't have. Drinks are on me, kid."

- "Everything's marked down until it's all gone."- the waitress announced and showed us a banner announcing Rossi's favorite place was closing in a few days.

- "Oh, you can't close! This place is history!"- he argued immediately, shocked by the news.

- "Unfortunately, Dave, history doesn't pay the bills."- Helen, the waitress, replied and shook her head as Rossi sighed, defeated.

- "Marines used to be big business!"- he said and looked at me, I don't know if waiting for words of support or just trying to convince me.

- "Still are. That's why three new bars opened up across the street."- Helen explained and then asked- "What's that thing they say about competition?"

- "It breeds success?"- I told her, but she cut me off.

- "It sucks."

- "Well..."- Rossi stood up and I followed, grabbing my jacket- "Keep the change."

- "Thank you, Dave."- Helen smiled and looked at him for a few seconds, giving him a knowing look, and then walked away.

- "I hate to see this place go."- Rossi said to me as he stood there, staring around him at all the memories he had in that place. I tapped on his shoulder and walked out of the bar.

- "We could come back again after we solve this case."- I suggested, trying to cheer him up. - "Bring the rest of the team, enjoy one last drink here. I'm sure (Y/N) and García would love to hear all the stories this place has."

When we reached the BAU that night, (Y/N) was already there with Blake, García, and Hotch. I walked toward my wife and held her hand.

- "Ma cherié, did you get to enjoy your evening at home?"- I whispered and she sighed.

- "I prepared the perfect bathtub, got myself a glass of wine, and I had a brand new book to enjoy. And it all went to waste."- she pouted and I ran my thumb down her cheek a few times, caressing her soft skin.

- "I'm sorry, chipmunk."- the rest of the team joined us in the briefing room, which forced us to be professional and move from each other a little bit- "We could take a bath together after we solve this case."

- "That sounds so nice." - (Y/N) sighed and smiled at me. - "How was your night out with Rossi?"- she asked as we sat around the table in the briefing room.

- "We had fun, we have to go to the bar he took me"

- "Was it good?"

- "No, actually it was old and dirty, but it's his favorite and it's closing."- she chuckled as Rossi turned to me, from the other side of the table, looking absolutely offended.

- "It's a very respectable place! You are lucky you visited it!"

- "That's why I'm telling my wife we should go!"- I replied, doing my best not to laugh. I knew he was affected by the closing news.

- "And we will, you don't have to tell me twice."- (Y/N) said quickly- "If there is booze and Rossi approves, I'm dying to go."

That case was in Boston, a psychotic was on the loose and had already killed three men and stolen their wallets. Though nothing tied the victims together, our guy was on a mission, and it was more likely to strike again before we got there.

We were already in the jet, going through the briefs and trying to find anything that could lead us to find this guy quickly.

- "We need to determine where he's finding his victims."- Hotch said, and I locked eyes with my wife, who was sitting next to me.

- "Geographically speaking, none of the victims live near one another, but they were all killed downtown, which is where the unsub likes to operate."- I said as she nodded, but before (Y/N) could say something, Blake commented.

- "That fits with where Maxford works, but not with the other two victims."

- "His area of control, while relatively small, includes a number of residential and commercial buildings."- I started rambling out loud.

- "Can you do the math that might help us?"- my wife suggested.

- "Well, factoring in a 3-mile radius in a city with a population of 636, 479 over 48.28 miles, we're looking at approximately 39,549.23 people living in his comfort zone."- I blurted out and (Y/N) kept staring at me with a sweet smile, as the rest of the team looked at each other like I was a freak.

- "How many of them are male?"- Morgan asked me and I replied in a blink.

- "18.944,08."

- "Garcia, start with the victim's known associates."- Hotch commanded as I felt (Y/N)'s hand on mine, intertwining our fingers.

- "Your brain is so fucking hot"- my wife whispered and I chuckled, embarrassed- "I love hearing you do math on anything."

- "Never let her go, kid"- Rossi overheard her words and smiled at us. I guess so did JJ, 'cos she looked at us with a funny stare in her eyes before standing up and walking to the kitchen to get herself a cup of tea.

Our guy was Tanner Johnson, and he was in fact, on a mission. He wanted to gain his ex-wife's trust back again to prove to her that he could take care of her and her new baby after their 10-year-old Jeremy had died. He wanted to be a good father, and in a way to protect everybody who lived under his roof, he started killing people who he thought were a bad influence for them and even kept a scrapbook, filled with proof of his murders.

I remember being in a van with Morgan, on our way to Mrs. Johnson's house, where she was being kept against her will by our unsub. (Y/N) was with JJ and Blake in another van, as Rossi and Hotch stayed back at the station, watching the surveillance cameras Tanner kept, still streaming everything that was happening in his old family home.

We just made it in time before Mrs. Johnson had the baby, and I was glad for once I had memorized all of the delivery manuals I had come across when JJ was pregnant, just in case she went into labor on the field.

- "Hannah, how far apart are your contractions?"- I put my gun down as I stood in front of Mrs. Johnson and Tanner, who had a knife against her throat. Morgan kept pointing at him, but I knew he didn't have a clean shot.

- "They're constant!"- the poor woman in labor screamed in pain. I looked at Derek and shook my head. I knew I had to do something quickly.

- "The baby's coming now!"- I announced the obvious, knowing the entire team was listening, and hoped for the best.

- "Look, man, your baby is about to be born. Now, we want to help you, but you need to put that weapon down."- Morgan tried to dialogue with Tanner, but it was impossible. He wasn't going to cooperate.

- "No! This is my child! I'm not leaving it!"- the unsub shouted, so I slowly moved closer, put on a pair of gloves, and took a deep breath staring at Mrs. Johnson, trying to get her to mimic my breathing.

- "Hannah, I need you to breathe deeply. Breathe deeply."-

I kneeled in front of her and did my best to look as confident as possible, though deep down I was so freaked out I was hoping I wasn't going to keep any memories of that moment.

- "Hannah, I need you to start pushing..."- I whispered, but she refused.

- "I can't."

- "Yes, you can, baby, just like with Jeremy."- the unsub tried to help, but she didn't want anything from him.

- "This is not helping!"- Hanna mumbled under her breath, she was in so much pain that I knew I had to find a way to get him away from her as soon as possible.

- "Tanner, you need to let her go. The stress isn't good for the baby. If Hannah doesn't start pushing now we could lose the child."- I commanded him, but he kept the knife against her neck and refused to move.

- "I have to watch him. I have to keep him safe."- he argued and stared at me as if I was a threat to the baby's security.

- "Like you did with Ashley?"- Derek caught his attention, which left me focused on the baby.

- "That was an accident. I didn't mean to."- Tanner mumbled

- "I know you didn't. Accidents happen. What happened with Jeremy was an accident, right?"- Derek continued talking, and I knew he had hit a very sensitive string in the unsub. It could only help us or put the baby's safety in jeopardy.

- "If I'd have been there I could have helped him."- Tanner was taken by those words and his whole shift. That was the key to helping Hanna. So I took advantage of his concern.

- "Guys, something's wrong."- I tried my best to look convincing. - "The umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby's throat."- I didn't want to trouble Hanna, but I had to do something.

- "No!"- Tanner yelled right away, as well as his poor wife.

- "Well, Reid, do something."- Morgan got it right away, and kept his eyes glued on Tanner as I continued lying.

- "I need something to cut the cord with, quickly!"

My words came as urgent as it was needed, and Tanner didn't hesitate to give me the knife to cut the cord. In two seconds, Morgan grabbed him and started taking him out of the room, as the unsub yelled and tried to fight back. Just then, (Y/N) walked in with JJ and Blake, and she quickly kneeled next to me.

- "Don't worry, Hannah, your baby's doing fine, but you need to keep pushing. Ready?"

- "Medics are on their way."- my wife announced, but I shook my head and continued doing my work.

- "We can't risk moving her now. We'll have to deliver the baby here."

- "Oh, God!"- Hanna yelled and (Y/N) quickly held her hand after putting a pillow underneath her back.

- "It's gonna be ok, Hanna, trust him, he is a doctor."- I looked at my wife for a second and though I knew she meant it as words of reassurance for the victim, they worked for me as well.

- "Come on! squeeze her hand as hard as you can and push"- I said and watched her struggle to do it.

- "Oh, I can't. I can't."

- "Yes, you can! You're doing great!"- (Y/N) said and rubbed Hanna's hand on her- "You are amazing!"

- "Yes! you're doing great. I can see the head! Keep pushing! Keep pushing!"

It didn't take much for the baby to come out. I held him in my hands, (Y/N) helped me cut the umbilical cord, and we wrapped him in a blanket that was lying around on a couch. Medics arrived and took care of Hanna while my wife held the newborn with tears in her eyes.

- "You are amazing Spencer."- she whispered as the two of us kept our eyes on the baby- "I can't believe you just did that."

- "I wouldn't have done it without you, ma cherie."- I replied and kissed her temple.

- "You are not delivering our babies, by the way."- she said after a few seconds and chuckled- "I'm gonna need all the epidural they can give me."

And just like that, the thought was inside my brain like a disease that wouldn't stop spreading. It wasn't like I hadn't thought about having babies with (Y/N). I had imagined a future with her in many ways possible. And that was exactly the point: at that moment in our lives, it was possible. And the overwhelming amount of things that could go wrong was impossible to overlook. They were there each time I looked at her.

Ever since we got married, the possibility of having kids has been present in our lives. We weren't officially trying, but I knew it was something we were both thinking about. And for a moment, it was perfect. Until I remembered there was a chance our kids could inherit my mother's schizophrenia. I know that disease tends to run in families, and though studies show there is no single gene to be responsible, the possibility of having kids with that disease was real. And I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ever put (Y/N) through any painful situation.

So I tried not to bring the subject up after we came back home, and for a few days, it worked. Until, well, it didn't.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I knew there was something wrong with Spencer as soon as we hopped back into the jet from Boston. He delivered that baby and something triggered him. I didn't want to pressure him, so I acted like a good wife and let him process the events at his own pace. I assumed it had something to do with the whole experience of delivering that kid and the fact we had talked a few times about having our own little family, but probably that whole moment had been eye-opening for him.

What if he didn't want to have kids anymore? What if he wasn't as ready as I felt? I was ready to quit taking the pill. I wanted to start trying to get pregnant. I wanted a little Spencer to love and take care of. Teach them all the things I knew. Watch them grow... I was fully ready to be a mom, and somehow I was scared to bring it up to Spencer. I was afraid he didn't want to anymore.

And then, the team made sure to force us into the conversation the Friday night we were all out together. We were at Rossi's favorite marine bar, the one he had brought my husband earlier in the week. Penelope and I gathered a bunch of people from the FBI and invited them over to say farewell to a piece of Washington's history. We also told them Rossi was buying the drinks, which explains why it was packed.

- "So, let's toast"- I said and raised my glass. The entire team and my husband were there with me, to enjoy our free night- "To spend more evenings together with family."

- "And to Dr. Spencer Reid, who may be adding M. D. to an already impressive list of credentials."- Hotch added, looking at my husband, who blushed, embarrassed.

- "And to Spencer Johnson, may he prove to be the child prodigy like his namesake."- Derek added- "I'm shocked there is a kid named after you out there before you two even have your first baby."

I know I smiled because little Spencer was a very cute and healthy baby, and I was (and still am) proud my husband helped deliver him. But the guys didn't stop teasing us after that.

- "And when are we going to have baby geniuses running around the BAU?"- Garcia asked- "I am ready to start knitting and spoiling your kids!"

- "Yeah, I'm surprised you haven't knocked your wife up already!"- and Morgan was on board with the joke- "I mean, are you doing things properly?"

- "Stop!!"- I nearly covered my ears with my hands

- "Emily said she'd happily fly from London just to assist with the baby shower I'm throwing you."

- "Penelope, I am not even pregnant yet."- I tried to reason with her, but it was useless.

- "You just said so, yet. But you will. Please! you'd make the cutest little munchkins!"- Garcia stared at me pouting.

- "Come on, don't pressure them."- Hotch tried to be the voice of reason, but it was impossible.

- "I'm sure Henry would love having a little cousin"- JJ smiled at us and sipped her drink.

- "Come on! This night is not about us."- Spencer chuckled, clearly awkward with the conversation, and raised his glass of whisky- "To Dave Rossi!"- and luckily, everybody else followed.

- "I still can't believe you guys did this."- Dave was surprised the place was packed

- "We wanted to make sure you had one last proper goodbye."- I assured him and felt his arm around me.

- "Grazzie, carissima!"

- "And I may or may not have posted on the Quantico message boards that all the drinks are on you tonight."- Garcia confessed, making us all laugh, busted.

- "And they are, indeed. Thank you very much!"- Dave added and we all raised our glasses again. The guys continued talking, but Spencer's eyes captured my whole attention. He was staring at his hands, holding his glass. He seemed concerned about something he clearly was overthinking. So I let David's arm go and walked closer to my husband.

- "Are you ok?"- I whispered, resting my hand on top of his. He slightly jumped and looked at me, surprised.

- "Yeah, sorry. I zoned out a little. I'm exhausted."

- "Do you wanna go home?"

- "No, it's Rossi's night..."- Spencer smiled with his teeth, but not with his eyes.

- "The guys..."- but before I could continue talking, I felt JJ's hand grabbing me and my husband and crawling us to the stage.

- "Come on guys!! Karaoke time!"- she commanded, as she gave us a mic, and Rossi started singing Billy Joey's "Piano Man". I looked around me, chuckling, 'cos the whole scene was surreal. The entire FBI quarters was in that bar, drinking and singing along as my friends and I sang karaoke. And Hotch even made a video.

Spencer held my hand as he tried to read the lyrics of The Piano Man, and I stared at him remembering the day he proposed. That was one of the most romantic things he had ever done. And watching him sing karaoke in that bar brought me back a million memories. We had grown so much already, that I felt we were ready to take our relationship to the next level: parenting. But somehow, I was scared to ask my husband if he wanted to have a baby with me.

As the night progressed, and Penelope got drunker and drunker, she continued to ask us about kids. She was very excited and eager to become an aunt. Apparently, our baby geniuses were what her life was lacking. Rossi was pretty drunk too, he sang a lot of Sinatra and even dragged Hotch on stage with him for a duet. I had a few whiskeys myself trying to find the courage to face my husband, who had a few drinks as well but kept doing his best to mask the fact something was bothering him.

Until I couldn't stand it anymore.

- "Ok, come here."- I grabbed Spencer's hand and dragged him through the crowd. I heard Morgan teasing us but I paid little attention to what he said. I just looked for a quiet spot in that packed bar, which ended up being the alley outside and asked my husband.

- "What is hunting that pretty brain of yours?"- and he stared at me with wide-opened eyes, trying to come up with something to deny what was obvious to me.

- "How much did you drink, chipmunk? I'm ok."

- "No you are not, you haven't been ok since we came back from the last case. So come on, spit it. I don't wanna dance around this for days until we both do something stupid or say something hurtful. Just say it, what is eating you alive?"

Spencer stared at me and finished his drink- a light beer- his eyes were so sweet and yet filled with fear. What was so scary that he couldn't share with me?

- "I hate that you know me so well sometimes"- he whispered and looked down at his shoes

- "No you don't. You love it."- I teased him and smiled as I walked closer and rested my hands on his waist- "Come on honey bunny. You know you can tell me anything."

- "I know."

- "So? Are you gonna tell your wife what's wrong?"- I whispered and Spencer finally looked at me. His puppy eyes could melt the coldest heart, and make my knees shake.

- "Let me ask you this"- he whispered after a few seconds of a very deep silence- "When you married me, did you ever think that my family's illness history might affect our kids?"

I stared at him confused. Which was that illness' history he was talking about? As far as I knew, it was just his mother's schizophrenia. Was there something else he never told me about?

- "What?"- I simply asked and Spencer stared at me like the answer was obvious- "You mean Diana?"- he nodded and looked back at his feet again, embarrassed he brought it up.

- "I just... can't stop thinking I could never forgive myself if our kids inherit any of..."- he stopped talking and shook his head, unable to even finish that sentence.

- "Where is this coming from? Why are you thinking about these kinds of things?"

I held his hand and kissed it, his eyes were still glued to his feet, not moving. A few curls of hair fell down his forehead, giving him an angelic look.

- "I never even considered it, Spencer. Not even once. Every time I think about our kids, I dream of them running around, catching bugs, and eating cookies"- I tell him my truth. I never considered Diana's schizophrenia as something we could even think about when it came to our kids. Why should we? You can't predict any disease and fear was not going to stop me from having my own family.

Spencer held my left hand and kissed my ring finger, a sweet gesture he did quite often, especially when something was troubling him.

- "I would never forgive myself if any of them inherited a disease from me."- the way Spencer whispered those words, so slowly, so scared. It moved me.

- "Honey, you won't..."

- "I just don't want to ruin their life"- his eyes filled with tears and his voice broke. My husband was honestly concerned about something that we couldn't even control. And I knew that meant that idea was eating him alive.

I remember walking with him from the back alley of a bar to our car parked on the other side of the street. It was late and everyone at the party was already drunk, so I didn't bother saying goodbye or telling anyone we were leaving.

Spencer and I sat in the back seat of our car and I held both of his hands as he kept trying not to cry. His jaw was tightened and his eyes glassy. It made me feel so guilty. My husband had been chewing those torturous thoughts the entire week, and I had been blind enough to think he was merely second-guessing having kids with me.

- "Spencer, I need you to look at me."- I whispered and held a finger underneath his chin, forcing his eyes to focus on mine. He bit his lip as I did my best to remain calm.

- "This is important, so please give your entire attention and eidetic memory."- I tried to joke, but he didn't smile or even move his face as I spoke.

- "Ever since I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, there hasn't been a day where I haven't thought of how amazing it would be having kids with you."- I said, and tears started falling from his eyes as I spoke. I had to pause and rearrange my thoughts, because watching him so affected made me think I was doing something wrong.

- "And you know that was way before we even started dating. Which means I've dreamed about having kids with you for a long time. And never, and I mean never, the thought of them inheriting any kind of trait from either of us has made me second guess or reconsider my dreams. I want a family with you, Spencer Walter Reid. I want to have your babies. I want to carry your children, a lot of them, as many as we can."

My husband cried and sobbed as I wrapped my arms around him and held him close to me. I didn't know what to do or what to say next. I just wanted to take all the pain away from him.

- "I just... I just want to make you happy."- he mumbled against my neck as I kept running my fingers through his hair and trying my best to be the support he needed at that minute.

- "You already make me happy, Spencer."- I kissed his cheek, not moving an inch away from him- "And I know our kids will make me even happier."

- "I just wish I knew they are going to be healthy."

- "They will be."- I assured him, not giving it much thought.

- "But how do you know?"

- "You are gonna be their dad. You will never let anything bad happen to them."- I affirmed, though it sounded more like an order to fate. - "And I'm gonna be their mom, I will always take care of our babies."

- "You are not scared?"- he asked softly and looked at me with teary eyes.

- "The only thing that scares me to death is the idea of you not wanting to have babies with me."- I confessed, and though he was the one crying, I felt embarrassed sharing my deepest fear.

- "I want so many babies with you. I've thought about it since we met."- my husband answered, and for a second, he smiled at me- "I was scared to bring it up, but... I'm so ready to be a dad."

- "Then please, let me make you a dad."- I was so eager to change his mood and lift his spirits, that I was almost ready to do it right there, in the back seat of our car. His lips found mine, and we sealed our pack, as his arms wrapped me tight and held me close to him.

We were finally ready to start our little family.  

Next chapter

[pissmaster228]

Thoughts on various Roaring Knight Candidates

Basically just semi-ordered thoughts.

Preface:

The massive problem that every Knight theory runs into is that it shapeshifts. We don't know any Lightner that shapeshifts. Could be that its armor/exoskeleton is a transforming Darkner and the actual Knight is the ball/core in the middle. Could be that it's an amalgam like Lemon Bread. Maybe they're Just Like That. The point is any explanation for the Knight's shape is straight up fanfiction. Only thing I'll note is that they appear to be ambidextrous, holding the knife with the left hand and slashing with the right.

Other than the design Lost Girl and Black Knife both feature the Nightmare Knight motif. The Knight can move freely in the Light World and is strong and athletic, being able to outrun us while dragging Undyne's body. The Knight is one of the very few enemies that will NOT give you a GAME OVER, (Tenna will. Queen will) meaning it doesn't want to kill you. From this we can infer it's fleeing not because it's scared but because it wants to avoid a battle to the death. It's holding back.

The Knight most likely was one of the people at the sermon. They waited for everyone to leave and only then made the fountain.

The Prophecy stained glass images don't necessarily reflect the actual meaning but the Knight's interpretation of it. Same with Ralsei's explanation.

Roughly from more likely to less likely.

December Holiday

Welp starting off with the strongest candidate. Aesthetic-wise. She has the motif, she has the wiffleball, she has antlers, she probably has long thin limbs. She has lots of free time to go out opening fountains thanks to, you know, being missing.

Story-wise. Not so strong. Dess so far has been a missing-presumed dead character stuck in UNUSED strings. She was presented as a secret we have to find. The FINDHER --Friendship bracelet, Lost Girl being labelled findher.ogg, Noelle trying to find her, her disappearance basically being Carol's entire motivation to rule the whole town by herself, and so on and so forth. She is also currently stuck in the code so I genuinely don't know how Dess!Knight would work. Other than there being two radically different December Holidays. Yuor angle and yuor devil.

Dess-stuck-in-the-code wants to be found, she's glad someone's listening even if we don't respond. The Knight is literally the opposite of this. It's secretive but a mandatory encounter. That keeps running away.

Oh and I realized that the Knight has to be someone we've met. Else Kris has no reason to hide their face from us.

Carol Holiday

She has the antlers, she has a motive, she's basically confirmed to be involved in this dark world stuff. She's supposedly very strong physically as well.

Someone pointed out we collect crumbs of her identity through chapter 1&2 as the mayor, Noelle's mother and Asgore's landlord C. Which leads into the beginning of chapter 4 revealing she's in fact all those people. The Roaring Knight's identity is a mystery, so the idea is that it's another facet of Carol.

However, she was described as having negative charisma, no-nonsense attitude and the Knight literally keeps striking poses coz it's cool. That's the opposite of her.

Chapter 4 also paints a very funny mental image if she were the Knight. Imagine. She makes a fountain. Accepts Kris's phonecall instead of entering the DW. Hurries to her house. She kicks you out of her house. Patiently waits for you to leave. Hops over her fence and zooms across the block to beat you to the church. Not impossible but silly.

Rudy Holiday

He has the antlers and the attitude, and who's to say he doesn't like baseball? He could have a motive as well. Unfortunately, he is bed-bound terribly sick. Which disqualifies him. That's the only argument against him being the Knight, though.

The Holiday couple, together

Basically the idea is they both are the Knight, Rudy enters Dark Worlds and strikes dramatic poses while Carol is in the Light World covering his rear. So at the end of chapter 3 she would have taken Undyne to the bunker and Rudy would've hid somewhere in the bushes. I see no holes in this theory. For now.

Catti, Alvin

Were in my top 3 candidates pre-chapter 3. Nothing contradicting them but nothing new supporting either.

Two or more people who aren't the Holiday couple

If too many people are in on the operation the whole damn town is a doomsday cult and they would have no reason to be secretive about it. We'd learn about it, too.

I do think Alphys and possibly Alvin are complicit but they don't know the whole picture.

Sans, Pizzapants

Thankfully deconfirmed. Pizzapants was sitting in the rain while the Knight was in the church and Sans was in his store at this time.

Goner Vessel

I used to dislike this one because of this thing in the GONERMAKER:

It implies the Vessel has no mind, will or voice of its own, and it can only have one of these at most. The Knight clearly has all 3 of these features.

Then this part of the Prophecy swayed me:

As you can see the Cage has 4 fingers and hands that suspiciously resemble the Knight's. Kris has normal human hands with 5 fingers. It's not Kris being depicted here.

Oh by the way the Knight has 5 fingers and human-ish hands in the Prophecy. Does that mean they didn't create the inner church fountain?

Papyrus

I can't read I'm an Undertale fan. He would not be trying to cause the fucking apocalypse. I have to admit he does match the stature and the attitude of drama-flying away-beating you half to death.

He's a main character of UT which really makes him unlikely as the villain. He had his spotlight already.

Asgore

Well, he did show up when Kris called. And he was going to show 'em all, especially Toriel. And the Knight's horns in its first appearance actually resemble goat horns more than antlers methinks. And he's big and strong. And he's associated with using knives for gardening. And he's already working closely with Carol...

But, I don't think it's him. The fact that he has a Black Shard, pretty much deconfirms him. Since if he was the Knight he'd have the entire Knife. He's a main char of UT as well.

GASTER

ALWAYS AN OPTION. Literally the only reason he's here. Seems to be allied with the Knight through ShadowCrystals? Knight and Gaster aren't the same person according to Seam and Spamton. But Seam never met him and Spamton is looney.

Noelle/Asriel

No.

Jockington/Snowy

Uhh Jockington is associated with balls. His Prophecy segment says he grows the beard, which is something silly BUT he's the only one mentioned by name. (Also an argument for Catti!Knight if you squint) Kris will start thinking about him when you think about the Knight. That's about it.

Snowy has this Silver Drake thing going on. Image by anon.

But neither of them has hands so stabbing the ground would be an annoying task.

That's it!

[saph-writes]

A Crumpled Red String Laced Around Our Throats - Chapter 5

ao3 link:

Words: 3801

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 6

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Chigiri froze. Panic started to set in but before he could do anything drastic or act in the moment, he realized that a few feet in front of them was a boy stepping into the forest. The boy could not have been more than 7 years old. 

The guard passed right by them and began reprimanding the child.

“No one is allowed in the forest.”

“B-but my ball got-”

SLAP

Chigiri sucked in a breath. Shock kept him frozen. He had never seen guards hit a townsperson before, even at the castle where the kids often misbehaved. But this guard did so with such confidence it was like he was used to it. He’s done this routine before. 

Chigiri’s hands trembled and tightened into a fist. 

The guard yelled in the kid’s face. “Do not talk back to me! You are a disgrace to your family. You may be too young to experience the consequences of your actions, but your parents will bear it for you. Come here.” The guard took the child’s hand and started dragging him out of the forest. The boy cried and tried to pull away from his heavy grip. 

Chigiri could hardly focus with the anger overflowing him. But just as he stepped forward to punch the guard’s face, his arm was pulled back. 

It was Kunigami. He shook his head. His expression was solemn, but in his eyes, there was a glimpse of fear. Chigiri bit his tongue and pulled his arm back.

The guard and the boy were already gone. And Chigiri couldn’t do a thing. 

They continue walking around the edge of the town. This town was very different compared to the one that was near the castle. The houses were less well-put together and there were a lot more guards around. The streets were crowded but unlike the festivity of the previous town, these people were hurriedly moving along to their destination, avoiding each other’s glances.

This is where Kunigami lived…, Chigiri thought. 

BANG

Screams erupted in the distance. Chigiri and Kunigami stopped as the ground beneath them trembled slightly. In the sky, dark black smoke rose into the blue color. 

Without a second thought, Chigiri bolted towards the noise. Since he had let go of Kunigami’s hand, he couldn’t see him but he heard his footsteps following closely behind him. When they finally arrived at the source of the commotion, guards already surrounded the area. The townspeople were panicking and running away, all screaming and yelling. In the center, the broken frame of a house laid half-destroyed. 

However, there was something else in the house. 

Something big and towering several feet above everyone else. 

It looked like a bear, but instead of fur it had disgusting green slime covered in dirt, leaves, and red liquid. Its eyes were small and entirely black. Its mouth wasn’t even a mouth, but a hole in its face where nothing could be seen inside it. It was rimmed with a dark liquid. 

It was a monster.

Fear immediately engulfed Chigiri’s mind. He quickly turned off the invisibility spell so that he could see Kunigami but when he did, he saw a similar look of terror on his face. He was frozen, staring directly at the beast. 

“Get back, everyone! Run to district 10!”

“Aim for the head!”

“Do whatever you can, just kill it!”

As the guards yelled at one another amidst the screams, Chigiri spied a young boy trying to run towards the house. A guard was holding him back, but he screamed and pushed him away.

“Mom! My mom is still in the house! Save her!” 

“Get back kid!” 

As he thrashed around, the guard hit the boy squarely in his neck. The boy collapsed into unconsciousness. 

His words were in vain because no one was looking inside the house. Only the monster, which stood silently in the middle of the rubble while spells were thrown right and left towards it. 

However, when Chigiri looked at the ground of the once-stable home, his heart stopped. There were splashes of red. 

To his horror, he sees a woman’s head rolling over. She didn’t even have a neck and her eyes were bulging out. It had been ripped off completely from her body.

Chigiri felt like he was going to be sick. 

He glanced over at the guards, who were struggling in the battle. Even though the monster was not attacking back, its large size made it far more difficult for the guards to handle. It was hardly budging. 

He could hardly think with the amount of thoughts rushing through his head. But no matter what, the idea of standing by without doing a thing made him even more restless. Even as fear caused his arms and legs to shake. 

Kunigami was still frozen in fear. Or rather, he is looking at the monster with his eyes wide and his arms close to his stomach. Chigiri quickly ran over and shook him back and forth.

“Kunigami!” 

Kunigami blinked and looked at Chigiri. 

“We need to help the guards!” Chigiri yelled. 

Kunigami was still in a daze, but he stepped back. His breaths were heavy but short.

“You can help but… what can I do..?” Kunigami placed his hands on his head. “I’m no help. I can’t be useful. How can I-?” 

Chigiri slammed his hands on Kunigami’s shoulders, causing him to jump. He pointed to the house. 

When he had seen the woman, he had also seen another body, this one still intact and moving. 

“There’s a girl in there trying to get away. I’ll take care of the monster and help the guards kill it. I’ll place an invisibility spell on you while you go help her. Hurry!” 

None of the guards had noticed the girl. When Kunigami spotted her, his expression of fear softened ever so slightly. He sucked in a breath and nodded. 

With another invisibility spell placed on him, Chigiri saw Kunigami disappear and heard his footsteps as he ran off. He then directed his focus to the guards and the monster before them. 

Instead of launching attacks, which may draw unwanted attention towards him, he hid behind a tree and whispered under his breath: power amplification. It was a complex spell, especially for applying to 10 guards, and one he had never performed before, even during his lessons. But he closed his eyes and simply prayed it would work. 

Luckily, the guards’ yells gave him an answer. 

“The monster is going down!”

“It’s getting hurt!”

“Don’t stop now! Bombard it until there is nothing left!”

The sounds of wind slashing the air and explosions hitting the monster’s body continued until a sudden BANG made it all stop. When Chigiri peered from behind the tree, he saw the monster collapsed on the floor. Its body heaved weakly. 

It had been successfully defeated.

Sounds of cheers and celebrations erupted from the guards, slapping one another. Chigiri looked to the side of the house. The girl was gone. Kunigami must have taken her away in time. 

Their focus was no longer on the monster, so Chigiri hid himself and walked up to it. He was invisible, but he was in an area hidden from their vision just in case. On the ground before him, the monster’s eyes were barely open. 

It looked almost peaceful, as if it hadn’t caused terror and destruction for the people of this town. 

“You can hear me right?”

From all that he has heard, monsters were sentient. They could act just like humans. But that was no reassurance. It only made it all worse. 

The monster blinked and its head rose slowly up towards Chigiri. 

Chigiri crouched down and spat in its face.

“You know, I hate this world too. All they care about is soulmarks and excuse their hate for anyone different as fear. But you…I hate your kind the most. You’re the reason the world is like this. Because if you didn’t exist, we wouldn’t have a reason to be scared.”

Chigiri raised a hand up. As he thought about the spell to use to finish it off, the monster closed its eyes and its head started to turn white. It was dissolving and disappearing into the air. A few short minutes later, the monster disappeared completely, like it was never there at all. 

Coward.

Chigiri ran back to the forest before any of the guards could see him. He snapped his fingers to undo all the spells he did and looked around for Kunigami. 

Damn it, why didn’t we agree on a meeting spot before? 

Eventually, he found them right behind the destroyed house, a few yards into the forest. The little girl was crying on the floor and Kunigami was crouched down with her, talking in a low gentle voice. 

“You’re not hurt, are you? Don’t worry, it will all be okay.” 

Chigiri had never seen Kunigami act like that before. 

“Kunigami!” Chigiri ran up to them. “What happened? Is she injured?”

He shook his head. “No. Just some scrapes.” 

Chigiri crouched down to look at the girl at eye-level. “Are you okay? What happened? How did your house get attacked?”

“Chigiri-!”

The girl looked down at the floor, tears still in her eyes. When she spoke, her voice still shook violently like the child she was. “Daddy came back…he was gone for a long time and he came back…yesterday.”

She sniffled.

“We were happy…Mommy and me but…when I woke up… I heard bad noises. Then…” She blubbered and began to wail again. 

Kunigami and Chigiri looked at each other. They shared a look of shock and disbelief. 

The image of the head of the woman he saw rolling on the ground flashed in Chigiri’s mind.  

He picked her up and held her in his arms while she sobbed on his shoulder. She was surprisingly light. “Shh…don’t cry.” He rubbed her back. “Do you know any adults? Any family that can take care of you?”

“...Auntie. They always…were so nice to me…”

Chigiri nodded. “Alright. Take us to Auntie then. Do you know where she lives?”

The girl nodded.

“Let’s go,” he mumbled. But when he started to walk, he stopped. He turned around to see Kunigami staring at the floor with a dazed look. 

“Kunigami?”

“Huh?”

“Come on.”

“Oh. Okay…” 

As they walked away from the forest, Chigiri looked over to the guards still celebrating. They did not glance over once at the destroyed house, nor at the body of the woman. 

In response, he squeezed the girl in his arms a little tighter. 

The household of the girl’s relative was a good distance away, as they walked away from the deserted neighborhood of the attack to the lively area of houses where kids ran in every direction. In this street, there were vendors and food markets set up. Guards still guarded the area, but there was significantly less. Likely because of the monster attack that drew them all away. 

The girl had calmed down enough to be able to look around her surroundings. All of a sudden, she gasped and shook around excitedly.

Chigiri struggled. “Hey, you’re going to fall-!”

“There’s auntie!”

Kunigami, who was walking right beside him, stopped in his tracks. 

Chigiri looked up at where the girl was pointing at. Just a few feet away was a woman standing in front of a house, watering plants outside. She had short hair and a taller frame. Her hair was also orange, just like…

Chigiri glanced at Kunigami. Kunigami’s eyes were wide and his mouth was wide open. 

“Auntie!”

Damn it.

In a split moment’s decision, he put a hand over the girl’s mouth and pulled her and Kunigami into the forest, between two other houses. He ran until he could no longer see the town clearly between the trees. He snapped his fingers, undoing the invisibility spell. 

“Listen.” Chigiri placed the girl on the floor and put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t tell them about us. Tell them that your house got attacked and you came running for them.”

Chigiri was not good at talking to children, admittedly. It’s not like his voice could go gentle and soft like Kunigami or that he had the tact of Hiumi. But regardless, he remembered the servant kids of the castle and how Hiumi spoke to them to make them understand. He had to try anyway. 

“We might get in very big trouble with the big bad guards if you tell them, okay?”

To his relief, the girl nodded. The light had returned to her eyes and she ran off back into the town. 

Chigiri sighed. 

He looked behind him. Kunigami was crouched down, with his head in his knees. Chigiri bit his lip and walked up to him. 

“You’re going to stay balled up forever?”

Kunigami didn’t respond. Chigiri sighed and crouched down next to him. He laid his head on his shoulder. “If you want, we can leave.”

Kunigami didn’t say anything once again. 

“She’s pretty. Who is she?”

“...My mom.” 

“Your mom, huh. Great genes you have.” 

“...”

“Do you want to leave?”

Kunigami tightens his fist. They sat in silence.

“She was smiling.”

“What?”

“Over there. She was watering the vegetables outside. She was humming and smiling to herself.”

Kunigami shook his head in his arms. 

“How can she still be smiling…?” His voice broke and trailed off. 

Chigiri’s heart tightened in his chest. What can he say? What can he possibly say to someone forced to see everything they had lost? They are only here because of Chigiri’s own demand after all. 

But even so, the words, I’m sorry, stopped halfway up his throat. It didn’t feel right either. 

“I’m sure she misses you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Maybe. But I’d never forgive them if they didn’t.” 

Because he still wanted to see Kunigami smile without hurt. Maybe that was his own selfish wish, but one he refused to give up. 

Kunigami's head rose up slightly and Chigiri could now see his eyes. They were red and puffy, but his eyebrows were wrinkled together. 

“I’m scared. But… I want to see them. No matter what happens, I want to see them.” 

Chigiri smiled. “That’s the spirit.” 

The two went over to Kunigami's old house. They had an invisibility spell cloaking them from sight and peered in one of the windows. The house is extremely small, much smaller than anything Chigiri had ever seen. In it, the little girl from before was being consolidated by the woman Kunigami said to be his mom. Two other girls were in the household, one that looked older than Kunigami and another that appeared younger. The younger girl was playing by herself while the older one was cooking. 

“Those are..?”

“My sisters.” 

They couldn’t hear anything, but the younger sister ran up to the girl and the mother. She showed her toys to the girl, which made her laugh. The mother let her go and the two ran off to play together.

“She’s always been like that. Excited and energetic,” Kunigami said. His voice sounded fond and full of nostalgia. 

Kunigami’s mom smiled at the two of them and walked out of the home. Chigiri took Kunigami’s hand and ran over to see her, even though Kunigami had to be partially dragged along. 

She finished watering the vegetables and headed for the side of the house. 

The two of them panicked and ran into the bushes, away from the path she was walking towards where they were standing.

“I think she’s going behind the house…” Chigiri whispered. He felt the sweat on Kunigami’s hand and squeezed it, and the two of them nodded at each other.

They followed after her to where she was headed. To their surprise, her destination was located in the forest. 

She did not go very far in. Just a few steps in and she stopped in front of a tree stump, where there was a pile of dirt and some flowers. In her hands, Chigiri realized, was a stick that she lit and set on the dirt. The smoke poured up into the sky. 

She got on her knees and placed her hands together. For a long time, she sat exactly like that.

“She’s praying… maybe for the girl?” Chigiri wondered out loud. Kunigami did not say anything. 

The mom finally looked up and took out the stick. However, she stopped and plucked out the flower as well. 

“It’s been five years already, hasn’t it?”

They stopped. Unlike Kunigami’s view, Chigiri could see part of her face, including her smile and the tear dripping down. 

“I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me. May the Gods grant you the happiness I could never give you.”

A crow cawed in the distance. 

“I love you, Rensuke.” 

~

On the way back to the castle, Kunigami remained silent. He stayed behind where Chigiri walked, holding his hand but looking down at the ground. 

Kunigami’s mind was in a frenzy. He could hardly think. So he stared at the grass beneath them, counting flowers they came across in the lonely forest. Occasionally, tears dripped to the ground. But they came and went, like the ocean’s tides on the shore. 

He finally said something halfway through the journey on the second day, when the sun was high in the sky. 

“When I got killed in the forest by the soldiers, I overheard something they said.” 

Kunigami took long pauses between his sentences as he readied himself. Thankfully, Chigiri was patient enough to stay quiet for his sake. 

“They said that I wasn’t a person anymore. Not a son, not a boy. Because of that, I should be killed. It was my parents’ request.

“I didn’t want to believe it. Because my mom said she loved me. But as I was dying, I heard her voice. She said that if I died, they would be happier. That I was being punished. She said I deserved it.”

Kunigami sucked a breath in. The two had stopped walking. 

“For five years, all I’ve wondered was if that really was her voice. And if it was true that she wanted me dead because of that. I thought that by staying alive, I was hurting her and my family. But all of that was in my head. I believed this voice in my head I thought was her and it became my reason for all this guilt. I felt guilty for being alive. I thought I should never experience happiness, only hurt and despair. That I only live to be punished.”

Kunigami felt like he should be crying, but he wasn’t. Instead of gasping for air, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, allowing him to breathe again. 

“But that was never true. She never wanted me to be punished. She only wanted me to be happy. All this time, she just wanted me to be happy.”

So instead he smiled. He allowed himself to smile. 

“I never would have known if you hadn’t brought me there to see my family. Thank you, Chigiri. For making me realize something so important.”

“...”

“Chigiri…?”

To Kunigami’s surprise, he felt himself pulled into an embrace. Chigiri’s arms wrapped around him, along with a warmth that pressed itself into Kunigami's chest. He didn’t know how to respond. His arms were left raised in the air while his heart threatened to burst out of his chest.

“Chigiri?! Hey-!”

“You’re going to let yourself be happy now, right? That also means letting people care about you.” His voice got quieter and he pulled him closer. “So I don’t ever want to hear you putting yourself down again, okay?” 

Oh…that’s right. Chigiri also gets worried, Kunigami thought. All this time, he thought about his family and how they would feel about him being happy, but he had rarely considered Chigiri’s feelings. I’m such a terrible-

Kunigami stopped himself. He looked down at where Chigiri was hugging him and bit his tongue. 

Chigiri does not think of him as a terrible person. So he shouldn’t either. His feelings of guilt and inferiority are hard to suddenly make go away, but they do not have to define him. They are not reality.

Reality is here, where Chigiri never makes him feel alone and his family still remembers him as their son, not a monster. Where happiness is not a reward but a right. These thoughts in his head hold no power here. As long as he holds this belief, he can let go of the control they have over him. 

Kunigami hesitated but slowly, he hugged Chigiri back. Not as a leap to a new direction, but a step. A small step, but a step nonetheless. 

~

When they returned, it was the night of the second day back. Sirens blared in the distance. Kunigami, concerned, looked back at Chigiri, who was already preparing another spell.

“Are you sure you won’t be in trouble?”

“No. Since the sirens just now started sounding, they probably only recently realized I’ve been gone. In other words, they did not realize I had been missing for four days. Idiots. It’ll just be like any other time.” 

Chigiri smirked and winked at Kunigami. “I’ll be fine. Just be careful going back, the guards might go in a bit further this time.” 

Kunigami nodded. “Okay.”

“See you later!” Chigiri waved while running away, already disappearing from the spell. Kunigami waved back weakly. 

However, despite his warning, Kunigami did not leave their clearing. Instead, he sat on the floor, behind on the tree stump. He leaned his head back and stared up at the night sky.

Tonight, there was no moon. Just stars endlessly dotting the dark night. 

His breaths were slow and heavy. He had not realized how exhausted he was from days of walking. It was probably amplified by the fact that he did not transform once after that time in the lake. Now, he was reaping the consequences. 

His body ached horribly. Dirt and mud covered his legs and torso. His clothes were torn and ragged. 

But he didn’t care. His mind was still stuck back at his old hometown, where they witnessed a monster attack firsthand. 

The townspeople running and screaming to get away and the splatters of blood on the beast. The wailing of a young girl who lost her home to it. 

He moved so that he was on his knees. Then, he brought his hands together in front of him and leaned his head forward until it almost touched the ground. 

The position was unfamiliar, but somehow comfortable at the same time. 

“Please. Don’t let me hurt him.”

The warmth of Chigiri’s hug lingered on his body. 

“Please, kill me before I ever get the chance to hurt him.” 

[foundtherightwords]

All Our Yesterdays - Chapter 9

Pairing: Ralph (Timewasters) x OFC

Summary: Thu, a museum archivist, only wants to escape her dull life in 21st-century Hanoi. The last thing she expects is to end up in 1929 Indochina via a time-traveling elevator and cross paths with Ralph, an Englishman on the run from the French Foreign Legion. Romance blossoms between them, but in a colonized country, unrest is always looming on the horizon, and Thu must decide if she wants to stay with Ralph in the past or return to the safety of the future.

Warnings: outdated/period-typical attitudes about women, mentions of war, mentions of pregnancy and abortion (involving a supporting character), some angst, some smut (non-explicit)

Chapter word count: 3.7k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Winter had finally arrived in Hanoi. For a few short, glorious weeks in November, the sky was a blue dome, the sun was a gentle glaze over the landscape, and everything was crisp and crystal clear. Then December came, and the Northeastern monsoon swept through Tonkin, changing the entire city in a single night. A merciless wind stripped the trees bare, leaving them to raise their skeletal frames toward a sky the color of tarnished silver. The traditional houses, not built for retaining heat, seemed to huddle closer together for warmth, as did the people on the streets. Vendors selling grilled corn on the cob and roasted sweet potatoes popped up on every street corner, and crowds flocked to them, for the fire from their stoves as much as the snacks. In the Western area of town, around Rue Paul Bert, Christmas decorations started appearing in shop windows and around doorways. For the locals, however, the real celebration—the Lunar New Year—was still about two months away.

The weather wasn't the only thing that changed. Thu sensed that something had changed between her and Ralph as well, in the days following his birthday and their outing at the dance hall.

On the outside, everything was the same. They still hung out (Thu tried not to think of their outings as dates)—eating at this or that vendor that they hadn't tried, going to the theater or the movies, even venturing to the Botanic Garden, though Thu was always careful to keep them away from the area around Robin Park. However, the easy friendliness between them was gone, replaced by a sense of tension, not just mental but physical as well, as both seemed to hold their bodies alert like a string, taut with wanting, waiting for the other to say something, do something, to break this terrible suspense, but neither dared to make the first move. It wasn't entirely unpleasant—it was like having a low dose of adrenaline constantly pumping through her veins—but it left her frustrated at the end of the day, when he walked her home, mumbled "Good night" and stalked off down the street, without even looking at her, without even shaking her hand, as if one touch would make them both spontaneously combust.

OK, so she liked him. She could admit that, at least to herself. He was cute and sweet and fun and she liked hanging out with him and taking care of him, and she even liked letting him take care of her once in a while. But it was no use entertaining the idea. This wasn't like meeting someone on vacation, because then at least there was always a chance they could see each other again. No, this was simply impossible.

It would be so much better if she could just sit him down and rip the Band-Aid off. "Listen, Ralph, I think you're great and all (what's that goofy 1920s slang word he uses? "Wizard"?), but I can't stay here forever, so how about we just kiss and get it out of our system and then go back to being friends?" But it was never that simple, was it? It wouldn't stop at just a kiss, would it? And there was always a chance that she had completely misread his signals, that he wasn't interested and was just being nice, and how humiliating would that be? And so she said nothing, and he said nothing, and they kept circling around each other in that limbo, taking both comfort and dissatisfaction from each other's company.  

Christmas came without much fanfare. None of the staff at the newspaper was Christian, and Thu didn't celebrate it either—though it had become an unofficial secular holiday in modern-day Vietnam, she didn't see any point in celebrating as a non-Christian. Ralph did though, so she made an effort to give him a nice time, knowing it would be the one day when he felt the most homesick. They didn't go to church—it was far too crowded and the risk of Ralph getting recognized would be greater. Instead, they stayed home for a Christmas dinner, French-Indochinese style. Ralph bought a bottle of champagne, a cake, and some sweets from Godard's, and she bought a Peking duck and side dishes from a Chinese restaurant.

"This is so good! Beats a roast goose any day," Ralph said, stuffing himself with the duck and pickles wrapped in crispy pancakes, while Thu watched him, smiling indulgently.

For presents, she gave him a dozen cotton handkerchiefs embroidered with his monogrammed initials, R.P. It was the most practical and least romantic present she could think of—she kept forgetting to buy some for herself, and Ralph was always having to give her one of his.

"I have something for you too," Ralph said, blushing a little, and handed her a long, rectangular package.

It was a photo album. "To Autumn, from Ralph" was written on the front page. The photos were all of her, carefully captioned in Ralph's own handwriting. Here she was, standing with the kids in front of the toy shop at the Mid-Autumn Festival. Here she was, leaning over a basket of flowers and smiling up at the camera. Here she was, standing at the balcony and looking over the street, deep in thought. There was even one of them together, reflected in a shop window like two ghosts floating over the busy pavement.

Thu looked from the album to Ralph, lost for words.

"A little memento for when you go home," he said. "I know you have all those pictures on your clever telephone already, but—"

"I love it," she interrupted, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "Thank you."

He beamed at her.

Later that night, back in her own room, as she looked over the photos again, tracing the captions with her fingers, Thu thought to herself, After the Lunar New Year. She would stay for the Lunar New Year. And after that, maybe she'd find the strength to say goodbye.

***

As the New Year—the "Western" New Year, as it was still called in modern day, as opposed to the Lunar New Year—approached, the office of Women's Weekly was abuzz with excitement. To thank the staff and to celebrate the paper's three-month anniversary, Madame Phuong was going to throw a party at her house on New Year's Eve. Thu realized that then, as it is in modern times, the Lunar New Year is for families, while the Western New Year is reserved for social gatherings.

It was Lien who came up with the idea of putting on a pantomime play, both to entertain themselves and the guests at the party, and to help the staff bond. Madame Phuong gave her approval, and the women had been rehearsing all through Christmas. Thu was glad to see that it didn't seem much different from the amateur shows she and her co-workers often performed at the museum on special occasions, except they were all going to be cross-dressing for maximum hilarity.

They decided to perform Thach Sanh, or the story of the woodcutter who braved monsters and won the hand of a princess, since it had more male characters than other fairy tales, thus more cross-dressing roles for the all-female staff. Lien even roped her henpecked husband into playing the evil adoptive mother, which left the role of the Princess. The other staff members were asked if they had husbands or brothers or male friends that could step in, but the women all laughed behind their hands and said, "Playing a princess? They'd rather die!" It was then that Lien suggested that Thu asked her "photographer friend".

"I'll ask him, but I can't promise anything," Thu said. She turned to Mai and lowered her voice. "Maybe you can ask Louis too?" she asked with a teasing grin. Louis with his mustache playing a princess, now that would be a laugh.

"I—I don't know if he can," Mai mumbled, looking uncomfortable, and Thu's grin immediately disappeared. The girl had been rather subdued and distracted lately. Perhaps her relationship with the dashing Louis wasn't going well. Thu felt sorry for her, and again wondered if she'd done the right thing, keeping quiet about Louis's lechery.

To her pleasant surprise, Ralph agreed to help right away.

"We used to put on a panto for Christmas all the time at home," he said enthusiastically. "It'll be a laugh!"

And so on New Year's Eve, laden with costumes and props and musical instruments, they all made their way to Madame Phuong's villa on the quiet lane of Chân Cầm Street. Thu was astonished to recognize the place—in her time, it was converted into a couple of boutiques on the first floor and a coffee shop on the second floor, but the interior was more or less the same, down to the floor tiles, the tall French windows that opened onto the balcony, the carved columns on either side of the door, and the painted moldings on the ceiling. So many times she and her friends had been there drinking egg coffee, wondering who the previous owner was. Never had she dreamed that one day she would be there when it was all fresh and new... The feeling of derealization, which she hadn't felt in months, was back, and it was only when Ralph touched her shoulder that Thu realized she was gaping at the house like an idiot.

"Everything all right?" Ralph asked.

"Yeah, yeah, just—you know. I know this place." She shook her head. "Sometimes this whole thing feels like the longest bout of déjà-vu ever."

"Come on, we have to get into costumes." He pulled her toward the back of the house. The "actors" had congregated in a guest room, which had been set up as the changing room, and were putting on their costumes with much laughter and teasing. The play was to be very informal. It would be easy to hire a theater troupe, but Lien insisted on impressing Madame Phuong with their enthusiasm and homemade skills, hence the amateurish preparations.

Soon, Thu found herself clad in a men's robe of navy brocade, borrowed from Lien's husband, with a crown constructed out of paper and gold foil. She was playing the king, but as Vietnam still had an Emperor then and the royal color of yellow was forbidden for the common folk, they had to settle for blue instead. Mai, who was in charge of make-up, whipped out a cooking pot, its bottom blackened with soot.

"What the hell is that?" Thu asked.

"It's for your beard and eyebrows," Mai said, dragging a finger through the soot and smearing it on Thu's face.

Ralph took one look at her and bust out laughing.

"I don't see what you're laughing at," Thu scoffed. "Look at yourself!"

Lien had lent him her wedding robe of red brocade, and a crown, similar to Thu's, was on his head. Even though the robe was loose-fitting, Ralph was still too tall and broad-shouldered for it, so he had to wear it open like a smoking jacket, and his wrists poking out from the sleeves struck Thu as adorably awkward. At least he was allowed to wear his own trousers underneath.

Mai was smiling along with them, but then she suddenly went pale, winced, and clamped a hand on her stomach, dropping the pot of rouge she was going to use on Ralph.

"You OK?" Thu asked, looking at the girl with concern.

"Um, yeah, just cramps."

"Why don't you get some air?" Thu said, picking up the rouge. "I'll take care of this. The King and the Princess aren't on until the third scene anyway."

Mai gave her a grateful look and slipped out the door. Thu sat Ralph down in front of her, dipped her finger into the rouge, and rubbed a circle on each of his cheeks.

"You're worried about her," he said.

"She hasn't been herself. No doubt that dick Louis has something to do with it."

"Maybe they've broken up."

"That would be for the best, honestly."

Then she glanced at his face and tried to suppress a giggle.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What?"

"Nothing. You look like one of those Russian nesting dolls. "

"And you look like a chimney sweep," he said, grinning at her.

"Don't talk, or I'll get lipstick on your teeth."

As she touched his lips, however, all thoughts of Mai went out of Thu's head. She was all too aware that they were alone in the room, and she was tracing his lips with her finger, how full and soft and warm they were, and he was looking at her almost expectantly, and if she just leaned down, she could kiss him—

"Ready?" Lien bustled in. She wasn't going on stage, preferring to be the director instead.

Thu looked up, hoping the soot was enough to cover her blush. "Um, yeah," she said.

"Good. You're up next!"

***

Peeking through a gap in the door, Thu saw that the drawing room was full of people, both French and Vietnamese. They were a rather Bohemian-looking lot, some dressed up, others looking like they just came off of their easels or writing desks. Madame Phuong's own children wove in and out amongst the guests. The atmosphere was casual and relaxed, and Thu's nervousness about her performance dissipated a great deal.

It helped her, also, to see that Ralph seemed to be enjoying himself. Her own role consisted of nothing else but sitting on a wingback chair, lifting her hand, and pointing a couple of times, so she spent most of her time on stage watching Ralph. He took to the stage like a duck to water. It being a pantomime, there was no line, but his gestures and looks earned a great deal of laughter and cheers from the audience. The princess's heartbreaking sighs at being separated from her brave woodcutter were especially convincing, even if she tended to look over at her father the king quite often during that scene. Thu was only glad that she was not a good enough actor to play the lead role, or else she would've melted into a puddle when the princess was finally reunited with the woodcutter.

Afterward, the actors took to the stage amidst enthusiastic applause, bowed, and rushed back into the changing room, laughing and congratulating each other. The women crowded around Lien's husband and Ralph, heaping them with praises, and telling Lien and Thu how lucky they were that their men were so supportive. It hit Thu then, that not only the staff took it for granted that Ralph was her partner, but they were also jealous of her. Her heart swelled with something akin to proprietorial pride, as she watched Ralph taking in the compliments, looking a bit overwhelmed but pleased.

They got out of their costumes, wiped their faces clean of make-up, and joined the other guests for hors d'oeuvres and champagne. The children had been sent to bed, and the party became more boisterous. At one point, Thu overheard Madame Phuong and a few other people getting into quite a heated discussion in French, of which she only caught a few familiar words like parti and révolutionnaire. Then they noticed her looking in their direction and quickly changed the subject.

Thu knew the August Revolution, which led to Vietnam gaining independence from France, was still fifteen years away, but the nationalist movements that gave birth to it must have started around this time. She looked at the happy, amicable faces around her, wondering if any of them would be involved in the war to come. Her stomach twinged with the slight embarrassment of being too wrapped up in her own personal affair, while there were much bigger things going on around her.

Then she caught Ralph's eyes across the room, and that embarrassment vanished. She realized she hadn't talked to him since the play was over, and suddenly she missed him. It was ridiculous to miss someone who was literally five meters away, but she did. As she made her way to him, one of Madame Phuong's friends started asking her about her hair, where she'd had it cut. By the time Thu got rid of her and turned back, Ralph himself was locked in conversation with a French gentleman. Before she could try to reach Ralph again, there was a tinkling of glass, and conversations paused as people turned to Madame Phuong. "It's almost midnight!" she announced, first in Vietnamese, then in French, pointing to the big grandfather clock behind her. "Let's ring in the New Year!"

A countdown began, in both Vietnamese and French. The clock struck twelve, a loud cheer of "Bonne année!" went up, and then, to Thu's great surprise, the guests started giving each other hearty kisses on the cheeks. She had heard of the tradition of kissing at midnight on New Year's Eve, of course, but it was a purely Western custom, never practiced in Vietnam, and certainly not in 1930, when the country was only on the brink of modernization. This must be a very liberal, very Westernized crowd if they took to it so naturally.

She saw Ralph making his way toward her and panicked. True, she had fantasized about kissing him just a few hours ago, but ever since their accidental kiss on his birthday, she had gone back and forth between yearning for his lips and dreading them. What if he was to kiss her now and she didn't know how to behave? What if it was just a friendly peck on the cheek and she didn't know how to deal with the crushing disappointment? No, better not risk it. She spun around and dashed through the other guests, escaping to the back of the house.

Walking down the dimly lit corridor, Thu found her way to the toilet, intending to take refuge in it until the moment for midnight kisses had passed. But as she reached the door, she heard a sound coming from within—quiet, whimpering sobs, like those of a child trying to hide her crying. She paused, not knowing if she should knock or retreat in discretion. Before she could decide, the door opened and Mai emerged, her eyes red and puffy. Thu realized she hadn't seen the girl since the play began.

"What's the matter?" she asked, but Mai only sniffed, shook her head, and disappeared down the hallway.  

***

Her mind was still on Mai when she said her goodbye to Madame Phuong and met Ralph at the front door. Belatedly, Thu realized that he was waiting to walk her home. Ah well. He had done so over the past two months and nothing had happened; there was no need to make things more awkward now.

If Ralph had noticed her running away from him at midnight and was hurt or offended, he made no mention of it. He only saw her shiver in her quilted jacket, so he took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. She tried to protest, but he shrugged. "It's only a short walk, I won't freeze."

"Thank you." She clutched the coat closer around her, breathing in his warmth and the familiar soapy scent, while Ralph walked in long, leisurely strides next to her, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Some of their easy silence had returned, and Thu felt herself relaxing slightly. Perhaps they could go back to being friends after all.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

She sighed and told him about catching Mai crying in the bathroom. "I really should've warned her about Louis."

"What happened to not getting involved?"

She gave him a sharp glance. "It's a bit late for that, isn't it? I've been involved in all sorts of things now."

"So if you return to your time and the robots have taken over, you're not going to blame me?" he said, grinning.

She couldn't help grinning back. "No, you're off the hook. Great party tonight, wasn't it?" she said, changing the subject. She didn't like talking about going back to her time.

"It was. You did a great job with the play."

"Me?" She waved her hand dismissively. "Pfft. Trying to look kingly isn't that hard. You, though. If this photography thing doesn't work out, you should think about going on stage."

"I wasn't acting," Ralph said quietly.

"But when the princess was leaning against the window frame? All that sad longing? That was so convincing!"

"Like I said, I wasn't acting."

He had slowed his steps and was looking at her rather wistfully, but Thu strode on, pretending not to see, pretending not to notice the throbbing of her heart. He was probably just thinking of Lauren during that scene. Yes, definitely...

She walked so fast that Ralph had to scramble to catch up with her, but they had arrived at her boarding house. She turned to him. "Well, good night."

Ralph looked down, deflated. "Happy New Year," he mumbled.

"In Vietnam, we say 'Chúc mừng năm mới.'"

"Chuc mung nam moi?" he repeated, trying to form his mouth around the unfamiliar words.

"Close enough." Thu smiled. "See you then."

He gave her a brief nod, turned to leave, then seemed to have come to a decision and turned back, stepping closer to her, crossing the gap between them with just one stride. "Do you know that if you don't get a kiss on New Year's Eve, you'll be doomed to a year of loneliness?" he whispered.

The string inside her snapped. Why did he say that? Why did he keep saying and doing these things that made it so hard to resist him? Didn't he know how painful it was for her?

"Damn it, Ralph." She grabbed him by his shirt, pulled him to her, and clasped her mouth to his.

Chapter 10

A/N: Finally, things are happening! Smut is coming next chapter! Although slow burn is my jam, this is the slowest burn I've written so far, and even I was getting a little antsy with these two, so thank you for your patience :))

[empressofmankind]

I'll keep your seat booked! Coming out with the second chapter within the week of the first is excessively fast for me, though. To do some expectation management: my long-running ASoIaF fanfic 'The Lion in Winter' (> 100k words) was started in late 2019, and I posted pt. 12 last month (and I am still going strong). I have a long breath. And I am hoping to have a long breath with 'The Show Must Go On' too, especially in light of the Live Action continuing, and my rewatching the Anime. And, let's be honest, its odds of long-term survival are good as it checks all the same boxes as my other deranged pirate obsession. And uses most of the same tropes too (ngl because I like em). I really need to update Sea Dragons, in that regard. Because Euron is itching to be on his less than best behaviour, and he's been waiting for a while, poor man. So, by necessity there will be shared bench space as I try to juggle these fics. In other news, I did just jot the plot down for the next Show chapter. So, here goes. The show must go on, after all.

I hope Buggy will soon realise Benji is a pint-sized validation machine that requires next to nothing to hit jackpot on that sweet, sweet unconditional affection. He's the world's worst role model (not counting Euron regarding Dany and Joan) but none of that matters to a ten-year-old. They're all about cool tricks and funny jokes and candy before dinner and ganging up on mom together. And whether their dad is more famous and scary than yours. Haha. I swear, the minute Buggy extends one (1) heart string to the tiny brat, I am going to grab it and yank it until it breaks. Because his potential for extreme parental angst is unique to him and just, chef's kiss.

And I am pleased to hear you like the timeline! I am super excited to delve into my very own 'Orange Town arch', ngl. There's whole suitcases of baggage regarding Shivs past, and I am intending to go through it and hold a yard sale for a while. I have excellent reasons dreamed up for Buggy to absolutely erase that town, and all of them are morally reprehensible. Actually, maybe, if you squint, not entirely? But they're pretty bad. Something about the end not justifying the means...

@ruledbyproblematique come sit in horny hell with me, I brought an extra chair. The peeping is a whole side plot arch, so with a little luck I can keep you well fed.

I love Benji. She's going to be the glue that keeps this shit show together. I don't know exactly what her arch is going to be? I guess we can have Arlong kidnap her or something. That'd be fun. Hopefully, Buggy has tapped into his girl dad potential by then.

[planetpiastri]

[1] that damn timing

summary - as a kid, you were sure that you and bradley were twin flames. but then you spent years circling one another, never being single and interested at the same time. so you moved on, and so did he—literally. but mere weeks after your life falls apart and you have to move back home, he returns for the big wedding on the horizon. and maybe, just maybe, this time you'll get the timing right.

warnings - small town/hometown au, gn!reader, benjamin!reader, bartender!reader, no use of y/n, reader is nicknamed 'moonshine,' small town inaccuracies probably, carole and goose are alive because i say so, right person wrong time, language, underage drinking mention, reader works in a bar there will be booze, drug mention, takes place in a fake town in missouri so do with that what you will

word count - 2.6k

this blog is 18+, minors please don't interact

on the rocks masterlist

Senior Grad Night - 10 Years Ago

The barn was decorated with everything the Student Council could pull together. Strings of fairy lights swooped across the rafters, and swathes of tinsel hung down like strange plants. Ribbons and flags were stapled to the old wooden slats, and a huge poster reading Congrats Grads covered an entire wall.

Metal cafe tables had been gathered and placed across one side of the floor, and the other side had been cleared away to make an impromptu dance floor. Speakers were sitting high up on a stack of hay bales, playing some twangy pop song as the senior class graduates milled around the space, laughing and reminiscing.

You sat at a table with your best friend Natasha, examining the mason jar holding a small, flickering candle that sat in the middle of the table. Natasha drummed her fingers on the tin table top, her cheek propped on her hand, watching the dance floor. Glancing over your shoulder, you followed her eyes to see Jake, wrapped in the arms of the same person he’d been wrapped in the arms of for the last four years, and even before that.

“Vom,” you said without meaning to.

Natasha swatted your arm gently. “Don’t be mean. I think they’re sweet.”

“Vom,” you said again, grinning.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. At that moment, someone slammed into your table, their hands gripping the edges to keep it from toppling over as you and Natasha both cried out in alarm.

“Bradley!” you yelped. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry,” panted Bradley, his cheeks rosy as he fought to catch his breath. His hair was mussed, and he’d undone the first few buttons of his shirt, his tie hanging loose around his shoulders.

Natasha wrinkled her nose. “Why are you sweaty?”

“Had to run… here,” gasped Bradley, falling into the seat next to you and grasping his side. “Cops… caught us… everyone… scattered.”

“Cops?” you echoed, eyes wide. “Why would—”

“For you,” he interrupted, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a small tin flask, which he held out to you.

You took it and shared a stunned glance with Natasha. “Is this what I think it is?”

Bradley shrugged. “It’s Grad Night.”

You unscrewed the cap and took a careful sniff, wrinkling your nose. “Where’d you get this?”

“Where do you think?”

You narrowed your eyes at Bradley. “It better not be my mom.”

Bradley shrugged again, his expression hard to read.

“Penny will kill you,” Natasha told him confidently.

“Then stop talking about it and just drink it,” Bradley snapped. “I almost got arrested getting it to you, make it count.”

He met your eyes when he said it, and against your will, your heart skipped a beat. Bradley always had a way of cutting right to the center of you, seeing you in a way no one else saw you. Ever since you were kids, you were sure no one got you the way Bradley got you. But for some reason, nothing had ever come of it.

Probably because he was never single, and even when he was, you weren’t.

Timing was a son of a bitch.

“Thanks, Bradley,” you said before taking a quick pull, but immediately regretted it. You screwed your face up and fought back a cough, holding it back out to him. “Oh, nasty. That is definitely not from my mom’s stuff—she has quality. That is ripe.”

“Okay, Moonshine,” Bradley mumbled, taking back the flask with an embarrassed flush to his cheeks. “Sorry it’s not up to par.”

Natasha laughed, reaching over and subtly taking the flask. “Moonshine. Oh, man, that’s great. Get it? ‘Cause you’re such a grump? And also ‘cause you put away shine better than anybody else?”

You wrinkled your nose. “It’s not a competition.”

“Yet somehow, you always win, Moonshine,” said Bradley with a small smile.

You pushed down the butterflies at the use of the new nickname. Before you could reply, Natasha announced decisively, “That’s it. I’m gonna go dance. Either of you gonna join me?”

“Vom,” you reiterated.

“I literally just caught my breath,” said Bradley.

Sighing dramatically, Natasha stood and walked away from the table, flipping both of you off as she went. You and Bradley laughed, quietly passing the flask back and forth till it was mostly gone.

“Have you two just been sitting here all night?” Bradley asked.

You nodded. “There’s no good music playing.”

Bradley grunted in agreement, taking another sip. “That’s why a bunch of us took off. It was good until we got busted.”

“Tale as old as time,” you hummed.

Bradley snickered. He was leaning back in his chair, his legs spread in a way that only he could make endearing. He ran his hand through his hair, looking attractively disheveled. You forced yourself to look away, turning back to the dance floor. Natasha was now dancing and having a great time with Javy Machado, him spinning her in dizzying circles as she laughed.

“Hey,” said Bradley suddenly, leaning forward and making you jump. “Do you want to get some air?”

“Okay,” you said, a little nervous, and you followed him away from the table and out the big double doors of the barn. It felt like everyone was staring at the two of you leaving, even though you knew no one probably gave a single shit.

It was cool outside the barn. Kids milled around here in inconsistent little groups, some obviously passing around flasks of their own, some passing around cigarettes or joints. The sky was clear and inky blue overhead, the stars little silver pinpricks of light.

“What are you doing?” Bradley asked you abruptly.

“Huh?” Your heart pounded painfully in your throat.

“After summer,” he clarified. “Are you sticking around, or…?”

“Oh,” you said, weirdly relieved. “No, I’m going away to Colorado for school. What about you?”

“Same,” he sighed. “My folks are being, like, super encouraging about it, too, which is almost weirder than if they were upset. Is Penny upset?”

You pulled a face. “No. You know how she is. She graduated and fucked off to Europe for a month with no warning when she was my age. She probably thinks I’m being kind of a square.”

Bradley laughed, toeing at a clump of grass. “I guess that’s a fair point.”

It was quiet for a moment, and you ran your hands up and down your arms. Bradley stepped closer, almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it. You were standing chest to chest, and when you glanced up, he was already looking at you. Your breath caught in your throat as his eyes locked onto yours.

“Bradley,” you started to say

His phone buzzed in his pocket and you both jumped back like you’d been caught. He fumbled for his phone, pulling it out and blinking hard. “It’s Amy,” he said.

Right. His girlfriend.

“You should get that,” you said.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he said again, shaking himself. “Yeah, I’m gonna—step back in.” He shot you a smile. “See you around, Moonshine.”

“See you,” you said softly, and watched as he walked away. He put the phone to his ear, and when he walked into the barn, he made sure to shut the door behind him.

The Benjamin Bar - Present Day 

Your fingers hovered over your phone screen as it glowed up at you, illuminating your face in the dimly lit bar. Those two words—LAID OFF—seemed to stare at you, swarming around your head till you felt nauseous. Sucking in a deep breath, you closed out of the email for the billionth time and slid your phone back into your pocket. You picked up a rag and began to wipe down the counter again, even though it was just as clean as it was five minutes ago.

Classic country music oozed from the old jukebox in the corner. The neon lights over the bar buzzed faintly. In the corner, the mechanical bull was silent and still. The dance floor was shining and empty. Only a couple old-timer drunks were sitting farther down the bar, nursing glasses of whiskey and trying not to fall asleep.

You didn’t hate your mom’s bar; in fact, you really liked it. But it was not where you’d hoped to be spending your summer working.

Things in Colorado had been great—almost perfect. After college, you’d been offered an internship at a real estate company, and pretty much from the moment you’d walked through those doors, the rest had been history. You’d risen up through the ranks until you had your own office and one of the best salaries in the building.

Then one of the partners of the company crashed and burned and took all of its shares down with it. You lost your job, your apartment, and your boyfriend when you found out he was screwing the girl downstairs. Within two weeks, you had gone from top of the world to rock bottom. You had gone from the penthouse suite to your childhood bedroom. You had gone from Associate VP to picking up spare shifts at the bar your mother owned. You had gone from picking out engagement rings to cuddling your pillow at night.

Needless to say, things were a little rough right now.

But your mom was getting married to the love of her life in just over a month, and she and Mav had been nothing but kind and welcoming to you, and all the people you had left all those years ago only had kind things to say to you. All in all, there were much worse hometowns to fall back on than Silver Springs, Missouri.

You checked the clock on the wall even though you knew it had barely moved. You didn’t mind working the early afternoon shifts for your mom while she was doing wedding prep, but they did crawl by. It was only two in the afternoon, and you were already dreaming of getting off work and walking across the street to Blackthorn’s, the local diner.

Then the door to the bar opened, allowing a blinding strip of daylight to momentarily stun you. You blinked, and when the light died down, you thought maybe you’d passed out and started hallucinating.

“Bradley?” you said before you could stop yourself.

Because it was Bradley. It had to be. But he was tall now, and broad, and… and… cool-looking. The Bradley you’d known in school had never been cool. But now he had a cool mustache and a cool white tank top and a cool floral shirt and cool blue jeans and he was in the middle of coolly taking off his sunglasses and coolly hooking them to the front of his shirt.

Your mouth hung open in stunned silence, and he seemed to be just as surprised as you were. He stepped towards the bar and said, “Moonshine?”

That damn nickname. You’d almost forgotten about it.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” you asked, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Oh my god—oh my god, hi! It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” he chuckled, leaning his hands against the bar. “I’m back for the wedding. I came back a little early ‘cause, well, my mom asked me to. And I’ve been saving up vacation days. This trip’s overdue.” He tilted his head. “But what are you doing here? Last I saw you was on a real estate sign outside a mansion in Connecticut. What the hell are you doing in Benjamin’s?”

Your cheeks warmed. “Oh. Uh. That sign is probably gone now. Our company went under.”

Bradley’s face fell. “You’re kidding.”

You shook your head.

“Damn,” he said bitterly, and it sounded like he really meant it. He slid into a stool across from you, rapping his knuckles on the bar. “I’m sorry to hear that. Seriously. How long have you been back, then?”

You shrugged. “Couple weeks now. It’s not so bad.”

“No,” said Bradley, and you were surprised to see he was smiling at you. “It really isn’t.” 

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning over your face. You fought to keep your breathing under control. God, you’d forgotten how good he looked. I mean, you’d thought he was cute in school—but now?

Your eyes flickered down to where his bicep strained against the sleeve of his open shirt before darting back up to his eyes. The outline of a smirk on his lips told you he’d caught your look—but he was looking too, dammit.

“Want a drink?” you asked.

He nodded.

You were relieved for the chance to turn around and grab a glass. You took in a breath, hoping he didn’t notice the way it shook as you exhaled.

“What’ll it be?” you asked without looking over your shoulder.

“The Moonshine special,” he answered.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you grabbed a bottle. Adding a couple ice cubes to the glass you’d set down, you poured the liquor over the ice before replacing the bottle and turning around to hand Bradley the glass.

His eyebrows quirked up when he saw it. “This is the Moonshine special? Bourbon neat on the rocks?”

“I’ve had a rough couple weeks,” you deadpanned.

Bradley barked out a laugh like he couldn’t hold it in any longer. You’d always liked that about him. “Fair enough,” he said. “Cheers.”

And he knocked back his bourbon.

When he slammed his glass back down, you said, “You know, we have shot glasses for that.”

He grinned at you, and you tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies that his smile woke up in your stomach. Ignoring your statement, he said, “So the company goes under, and then you end up back in Silver Springs. No boyfriend to stay with in Colorado?”

You felt your smile fall away, and the mischievous gleam immediately faded in Bradley’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” he started.

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, shaking yourself and taking his glass, putting it on the rinser under the counter. You cleared your throat. “No, there’s no boyfriend. Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

You hated the way he was staring at you. That was the worst part of getting dumped, and especially of getting cheated on. You couldn’t stand that pitying look in everyone’s eyes when they looked at you.

“What about you?” you said bracingly. “No fiance moping around back home, waiting for you to hurry up and get back? Leaving for a month must have been a tall request.”

Bradley winced. “No,” he said, “definitely no jilted fiance. I haven’t been having the most luck in the old dating department lately.”

“Cheers to that,” you sighed, pouring another two bourbons and handing him one so you could do just that. You both drank, and as the alcohol burned its way down your throat, you realized something.

For the first time you could recall, you and Bradley were both single at the same time.

A chill went down your spine.

Bradley seemed to sense that same tension, because he was suddenly unable to keep looking you in the eyes. He fidgeted, and all of a sudden stopped being cool. He was that same boy that you’d known all those years ago, and that felt like a relief.

Lifting his wrist, he squinted at his watch and said, “Oh, shit. I promised Jake I’d say hey when I got in. I better run.”

“Sure,” you said, clearing both glasses away and wiping down the counter. “Nice talking to you, Bradley.”

He drummed his hands on the bar. “You too, Moonshine. I’ll be seeing you, then.”

“Be seeing you.”

This time when Bradley walked away from you, it didn’t feel like your heart was being painfully squeezed by an angry fist. You breathed easy as his palm splayed against the door and pushed it open, stepping back out into the brilliant afternoon sunshine.

When he left, the door didn’t slam closed; instead, it hung slightly ajar. And that warm strip of sunlight on the floor of the bar had never looked so inviting.

masterlist

@harringtonbf / @spideystevie / @almightyellie / @sunlitide / @holypowell

[circesays]

The Beginning and The Discovery (part 1)

The Betrayal (part 2)

The Change (part 3)

By the time the Sheriff finally left the boy’s side, the sun was starting to peek into the dustbowl.

(He was far too light, far too easy to scoop up and lay on the couch in the office. Jimmy easily moved his limbs into a comfortable position, like a child putting a doll down for a nap.)

He needed- he needed to do something. Anything. As he went through the houses, breezing through plastic, untouched doors, (dollhouses don’t need locks-) the Sheriff’s sorrow grew.

(One joke. How could it have come to this?)

Some people were still asleep in bed, not even awake when they’d changed, their eyes painted to appear closed. Others collapsed- a father slumped over his newly-polished pickaxe, an older brother wrapped protectively around his sister’s figure, a girl who barely managed to get to the couch and away from a burning stove.

(One house had two women, hands intertwined, collapsed on the way to a bedroom on the first floor. Both were reaching for the door, eyes flat and dull, when they fell.)

“Plan ahead,” Jimmy mumbled, carefully moving his people’s limbs into comfortable positions. Cautiously checking each person’s heart for the pit pat that meant they were alive. “Step one- shelter.”

(Plan ahead, follow steps, don’t fall apart, stay strong, they need you-)

He couldn’t leave them in their homes like this. The doors no longer had locks, the houses were spread across the dustbowl. He couldn’t easily check their condition.

(He couldn’t make sure they were all alive.)

So with all his willpower, the Sheriff left their sides to build.

(And oh, how leaving hurt. Every step away felt like betrayal.)

The building was ugly, but he didn’t care. (Nobody was around to tease him about it anyways.) It just had to be stable. Cobblestone foundation with a well-supported brick roof. Only a few windows, strategically placed at angles where sunlight could still enter the room but pillagers couldn’t see his defenseless citizens. Heavy iron doors, powered by levers so he could keep them open while he worked.

(Beds, dozens of beds, and triple the pillows. Every piece of cloth Jimmy had went into creating a comfortable space. As night fell, he went to every home, taking each bed and writing down the owner.)

(When everyone wakes up, he reasoned, they’ll want to wake up in their own bed.)

It took the entire rest of the day to finish the shelter, and the following night to move furniture. The Sheriff never stopped for breaks- the town was spawn-proofed, after all, and he couldn’t sleep, no matter how tired he felt.

(As dawn crested the mesa once more, Jimmy began moving his people, carefully cradling each of them in his arms as he delicately lay them down in their beds.)

(Couples were kept together. Families would wake up next to their loved ones. Even pets, lying still in their beds, were given comfortable blankets and soft pillows beside their companions.)

When the task was finally done, each citizen of Tumble Town tucked into their bed, the door firmly locked, Jimmy sat on the porch of his office and mourned the silence for what felt like hours.

“Step two, communication,” he recited, barely holding back a flinch as he heard his own voice.

(It was low and quiet and rough. Almost lifeless. The string in his throat tugged with every word.)

(“Won’t you play with me?”)

Step two would usually be food, or water. Jimmy was almost grateful that it was no longer necessary.

(Almost, because his people were lying still. Almost, because his people weren’t dead, but they weren’t alive, either.)

He thought back to the letters on his desk, unfinished and stained with ink. The last plan they’d made was to send their canaries as messengers, carrying their letters.

(It was a useless endeavor. Every canary had turned into a wooden figurine, frozen in the middle of a song or mid-flight or preening.)

(Cursed, just like him. Cursed, just like them.)

Using his communicator was out. The night the horses changed, the Sheriff found that his had turned into a fake, toy version- the kind kids played with before they got their first comm. Useless.

(A kind father, one of his citizens, rubbed his back as he held the toy, useless, useless communicator tight, gently prying it out of his hands before he accidentally crushed it in his white-knuckled grip.)

(He’d murmured, “It’s not your fault, Sheriff. We don’t blame you. Come on, the town meeting is about to begin.”)

(The man was next to his wife under a cyan comforter, their son curled up between them.)

Someone had suggested that they fly. Tumble Town’s main export was gunpowder for a reason- their rockets were the most powerful and reliable for sustained flight. If the Sheriff went to their closest allies, he could get help.

But the creepers weren’t ready for a gunpowder harvest yet, and the rockets made out of their existing stock wouldn’t fire. It took many hours of frustrated tinkering before they realized that their gunpowder had turned to kinetic sand.

(Kinetic sand, of all things. The woman who spilled her gunpowder into her water cup spent a full fifteen seconds staring in shock before she finally started yelling for the other engineers.)

(Her bed was smaller, but she was wrapped up in a red blanket beside her best friend. The two were inseparable.)

Walking was the last option they debated. One of the best riders in town offered to sprint to the nearest settlement. “I can be like that guy that ran the marathon,” they grinned. A girl gently smacked her friend’s head. “Honestly, stupid. The nearest settlement is chunks out. It’d take at least two weeks on foot! What do you think you’ll do if you get hurt, hm?”

(The Sheriff made sure their bed was next to their friend’s, chuckling helplessly as he remembered their bickering back and forth about everything and anything as he placed a teddy bear under their arm.)

So that plan was scrapped. The townspeople knew that their only hope was that an ambassador came by for a trade deal, or one of the rulers ran out of gunpowder.

(Together, but alone. So very alone.)

Jimmy placed his head in his hands. He was exhausted. He hadn’t slept in a little over three weeks. There was no way for him to recover energy.

But his people were alive. His people were alive, and the only thing he could do was make sure they stayed that way.

“Step three,” whispered the wind. “Keep them safe.”

(So the Sheriff patrolled, and paced, and checked heartbeats for the pit pat, pit pat of life.)

…

(Around the hearts of his people, a golden shield kept grasping, green strings away.)

[stripper-patrick]

Next Lifetime 💫Michael B. Jordan pt 1.

Warnings: smut, fluff, kids, sneaky link turned into family, angst, crying, 18+, NSFW gifs, series

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl @designerwriterchic @bvssmob

Relationship: Michael B. Jordan x black plus sized reader (Azina/Z)

<4 years ago>

I’m throwing my ass back to the music just enjoying myself during this time. I’ve had at least 4 shots and I’m feeling all of them.

I feel someone press up behind me and it’s my best friend Michael whose clearly off the Henny just as much as I am. He grinds against me and as I’m working my hips I feel his dick stiffen. A boldness surged through me, or maybe that’s the liquor, and I stand up turning to him sealing a kiss. I’ve always wanted him no doubt I just never knew how to tell him. I guess being drunk is the best way. His hands grab at my waist then snake to my ass. His sweet Hennessy flavored lips are getting me even more drunk but with lust this time. The glisten of his plump lips being out the diamonds in his grill set plastered perfectly on his teeth.

“Let’s go to my house” I nod agreeing with his request and he grabs my hand leading me outside. He hails down a cab and opens the door letting me get on first. He smacks my butt on the way in and I giggle.

“322 Barron Street please” it’s about a 15 minute ride from here.

The driver begins his route and Michael starts kissing my neck and his hand slips down my shorts. My panties are beyond soaked and now he’s rubbing my clit making me whine.

His hand wraps around my throat whispering on my ear “stay quiet ma” he rubs again and as soon as the driver turns the corner into Michael’s loft I’m bussing all over his fingers biting the bottom of my lip trying to stay quiet.

He wraps his hand around my mouth flicking my clit faster making me shake harder. He pulls out his coated fingers placing them in my mouth. I suck off my own sweet juices and he grabs my by the throat kissing me tasting myself off my tongue. The driver clears his throat and we stop giggling and getting out. He tips the driver and walks past me opening the door. As soon as he gets the door open my pants are already unbuckled and halfway off.

“Damn hold on mamas” he slurs. We finally make it up to his nicely decorated bedroom and I’m pushed backwards flying back first on the bed. Michael comes on top of me and I flip us over grinding down on his already rock hard dick. He grabs a handful of behind moaning in my mouth. I move down to his neck where I kiss it sloppily. We stop kissing for a moment and I remove my shirt while he does the same. I move down pulling down his boxers and pants in one motion wasting no time swirling my tongue on the tip of his leaking dick. A low moan fills the room and I wrap my lips around the entire tip and push my head down letting it hit the back of my throat. I let it get wet then go back up to sucking on the tip while my right hand jerks the base and my left hand cups his balls. I come off with a string of saliva and I use my palm to rub on the top directly allowing the slick saliva to give him pleasure. His stomach caves and a loud moan erupts from Michael as he looks down holding vicious eye contact with me.

“Fuck Z” I continue going to town until he grabs me by the throat pulling me up to his mouth. Michael’s tongue roams my mouth fighting for dominance as he pulls me on top of him. I grab his throbbing dick pushing it inside of my aching pussy feeling him expand my walls gracefully. He leans back laying his head on the pillow as I gasp sinking down on him until our hips meet. I place my hands on his chest and sit on my feet rocking my hips along his shaft. His eyes flutter shut as I work my magic swirling my hips in a sloppy drunken circle. He bites his lip while one hand grabs the back of my head pulling my sweaty forehead to his. The other hand grabs a handful of my ass pulling me down. His dick fills my pussy completely making me gasp. Without missing a second Keith grabs both sides of my head keeping deadly eye contact with me and thrusts his hips beating my pussy from below. I let out a mewl holding his biceps while digging my acrylics into them. I bite my lip as he obliterates hot spots I didn’t even know were there.

My entire body feels like it’s on fire as after he thrusts he gives it aches and caves for more. “You like that? You like being daddy’s lil bitch” he moans pounding me out. Michael moves his hands wrapping his hand around my throat pulling me further and growling in my ear. I try to push away as the pleasure is starting to overwhelm me and he holds me by my hips keeping me right where he wants me. The only that can be heard in the room is the slushing sound of my wetness, the clapping of my ass and his balls slapping against my ass. My legs shake already as he continues. My pussy soaks everything underneath me as I let out a struggled moan cumming harder than I’ve ever came with any other man before. Michael pulls out pushing me up onto his face while jerking himself off in the process. He wraps his hands around my hips tasting the beautiful mess he made. My body jerks and my hand instinctively moves to his head as I roll my body on his tongue. He moans at my taste sucking and lapping on my clit. I smile getting off his face and back on his dick bucking my hips wildly. Michael guides my hips keeping himself as deep as possible. He begins thrusting up again at a fast pace making my eyes roll to the back of my head. He growls again giving me a fair warning that he’s about to cum. Without thinking I scream “cum inside this pussy daddy”

I’m aching from his blows. I sit up and keep bouncing at the same pace as he holds my hips tensing up. His seed spills inside of me and I watch his arch his back when I clench my pussy creating a suction. He moans pressing into my hips more.

Michael sits up kissing me and giving me a hard spank to my right ass cheek. His dick throbs inside of me as our mixtures leaks out dripping past his balls and onto the sheets. Drunkenly I lay on top of him giving him lazy kisses. Time and liquor consumes us and before I know it we’re both asleep in each other’s arms.

…

I wake up with a headache the size of the room. I feel like if I move too fast I’ll throw up. I feel someone warmth next to me and I pause. Who did I go home with last night? What happened? I’m aching between my legs but my conscience tells me not to be scared. I look behind me seeing Michael fast asleep. I sigh in comfort knowing I’m safe. He stirs in his sleep opening his eyes and he sees me. “Morning”

“Morning” I move my legs and notice they’re weak. I pull back the covers and we’re both completely naked. Oh shit. I jump up to the best of my ability and he sits up too

“Mike what did we do last night”

“Well using my context clues we had sex” he says rubbing his eyes

“Michael do you not see an issue with that? You have a girlfriend”

“I know but I mean if I’m being honest I’ve always had feelings for you Z and clearly you feel the same way” he states. I grab my underwear shaking my head.

“Mike that’s not the point you knew we shouldn’t have acted on it especially since you’re in a relationship. This could absolutely ruin our friendship. Lemme ask you this what if we go get together and break up then what you know I’m not friends with my exes. If you can be cool with your ex y’all were never in love or still are in love. There’s no in between” he looks at me with his head hanging low. He knows exactly where I’m coming from. “I’m not tryna lose you as a person in general” Mike goes in the bathroom brushing his teeth and peeing.

I collect my clothes putting them back on and Mike throws on some basketball shorts and a t-shirt he grabs some slides and his car keys . Luckily my car is already at home since Michael and his girl Lori picked me up.

“Z I’m sorry. I know things went too far but I’m glad we at least know how we feel about each other” he says “and I don’t regret what happened last night” I nod and get in his car. He gets in the drivers seat taking off and taking me home.

…..

Lori decided to have a pool party today to celebrate Mike for his birthday. Of course he invited me and being his best friend I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Plus it’s at his new house and I’ve never seen it before. Granite we haven’t talked much or seen each other at all since our ordeal a couple weeks ago. In fact this is the first time I’ve actually seen him since that day.

I walk through their beautiful house with a bottle of champagne in my hand. I see Lori in the kitchen. Honestly me and her have never really been that close. I never really cared for her but I was always cordial with her. “Hey Lori I brought this for y’all” she looks at me taking the champagne without even saying thank you. Bougie bitch. Don’t get me wrong I’m bougie too but best believe I’m as humble and as thankful as they come. I guess that’s why me and Mike are best friends. We’re the same.

I roll my eyes and my heels click outside where I see a bunch of people lounging in the pool and on the sides with drinks in their hand. My other best friend Lamia greets me with open arms. Her perfume makes me nauseous and dizzy “Hey girl” she smiles

“Hey” I say trying to hold my breakfast down.

“Mike is over there. Have you and him talked since then?” As soon as I got home that day I got ready for work and told Lamia what happened. I shrug my shoulders as an answer.

“Only small talk and I’ve low key been trying to avoid him just so the awkward tension doesn’t arise” I say

“Makes sense” Michael begins walking over and I stride a little further away until he catches me.

“Hey ladies” he hugs lamia and I’m next. I smell his cologne and melt. “you want a drink Z” I shake my head

“I don’t feel too hot right now so I’ll stick with water for the day” he nods eyes lingering on me for longer than a second. Lori comes out running his bare back and our contact is broken. While Lori begins talking to him I slip away downing the rest of my water. The nausea is finally gone and I sit on the lounge chair going on my phone. I put on my sunglasses shielding my eyes.

While I’m relaxing in the sun I notice Michael keeps staring at me. I see the small bulge in his shorts and I can’t help but bite my lip, mouth water at the taste of his dick down my throat.

A mid-height dark skin man starts walking my way and I see he has a pearly white smile similar to Michael’s. I get a better glimpse of his face. His name is Jayson. I’ve heard about him before. I heard he’s a player and he sleeps with anything that moves.

He sits next to my feet flashing his smile at me. I sit up with a small smile on my face. “Hey I’m Jayson Mikes friend”

“Yea I know. I’m Z”

“What’s that short for”

“Azina” he smiles scooting closer. I glance up seeing Mikes eyes never leaving me.

“That’s beautiful. Fitting for a beautiful woman” he bites his lip. I take a deep breath and take my sunglasses off. I stare directly into Michael’s eyes and he’s fuming. Dimples are prominent in his cheeks, nose flared, biceps flexed from how tense he is. Jayson moves even closer and that’s when Michael comes over.

“Hey Jay what y’all talking about?” He interjects with his nose held high. A small rage burns in my stomach at how he completely ruined my chance at something. Even if I was just playing Jaysons game right back at him.

“Her name. It’s pretty”

“Oh yea the two ‘A’s in her name stands for aggravated assault. She’s crazy man she beat niggas” he laughs. He’s not fully wrong “but she’s my kinda crazy. Speaking of Azina can I speak to you privately please? Jay you don’t mind right? Course not be right back” before I even have a chance to protest he grabs my wrist and my panties are soaked by the time we enter the glass double doors of his house that Lori happens to be staying in. Just hearing him call my name rather than my nickname has me wanting to be on my knees on this cold marble floor.

“What the hell is your issue?” I ask yanking my arm away. He grabs me again taking me upstairs through the neatly decorated white hallway. We get into his gold coated marble bathroom where he locks the door. I lean against the counter and he folds his arms “why have you been avoiding me”

“I-“

“And don’t lie to me” he asserts his dominance making my clit throb. Silence and heavy thick sexual tension fill the air and I look down at my long pink acrylic nails. He steps closer sealing any space between me and him. His large hand wraps around my throat making me bite my lip “you like seeing me get all jealous? Shit makes you wet mama?”

“Yes” I whimper. And just like that I’m putty in his hands. He pulls me up to his plump lips placing a wet kiss on them. Michael pulls off my duster of a swimsuit coverup. His large hands play with my breasts and my hand moved to his hard on. He’s rock solid now. His hand moves from my breast to my bikini bottoms rubbing my clit. My hips hunk and my hands move to his bicep as his plump lips kiss my neck. My body jerks as his thick fingers slide into my hole with ease. He begins pressing my g-spot like a button making me lose my breath. Michael moves up to my ear whispering “you’re mine”

He pulls his fingers out and sucks them dry turning me around some I’m facing the huge mirror above the sink. I grab the ledge bracing myself as he rolls my bottoms down spanking me in the process. I spread my cheeks feel his warm hard dick press inside of me. He fills me up and holds my hips bouncing me back to meet his thrusts. His breaths become heavy and ragged and my mouth drops open but nothing comes out.

Michael is pressing right on my g-spot making me lose my breath. “Daddy” I whimper.

“That’s my girl take all this shit. You wanna flirt with other niggas ima show you who you belong to” he wraps his hand around my throat quickening his pace. My eyes squeeze shut and my moans get louder. The sounds of our moans and my ass clapping fills the room but we have to keep it quiet so no one comes up here and finds us.

“You like when daddy fill you up bitch?”

“Yes I love it so much” my legs begin shaking as my orgasm approaches fast like a train. He gets close to my ear still pounding me out against the marble counter.

“Look at me when I make you cum” I bite my lip and his grip tightens on my neck. I open my eyes to the best of my ability as my entire body seizes in front of him. My body is on fire and he chuckles biting his lip “you look so fucking pretty taking all this dick like a good little whore”

I whimper jerking around and he pulls out watching my body tense up and convulse. He smacks my already shaking ass. Michael turns me around again putting me on the counter and he gets on one knee licking my pussy. He slurps you the mess he made moaning at the taste. I watch as he pulls my pussy lips back making sure to get as much of my clit as possible. My body writhes from still being sensitive and I grab the back of his head pushing him further in me. I pull off my bikini top rubbing my nipples while grinding on his face. My head falls back and he gives small licks making me even crazier than before. Michael comes up kissing my lips. I can taste myself on his tongue. He taps his dick on my clit before inserting himself again. I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he wastes no time taking me to Poundtown.

His short nails claw down my back and he buries his head in my neck. “That’s it daddy right there” my nails take through his short waves as his hips ripple through me. My moans uncontrollably get louder and he covers my mouth pounding me harder “can’t scream now can you baby?” I whimper eyes rolling to the back of my head as I squirt on his dick “that’s what I want fuck I’m bout to cum” his growls get louder and he kisses me moaning. His body shakes when he leaks inside of me. My nails scrape down his back and he empties his load inside of me.

He stays inside of me staring deep into my eyes. I can’t help this feeling anymore but I need to for the sake of our friendship. Michael’s catches me in a kiss and for a split second I ignore my feelings and kiss him back. As if he were really mine. That thought stops me from going any further “I’m sorry for avoiding you”

“I understand mamas” he kisses me again and pull out grabbing a towel he wipes off my pussy and leans down placing a kiss on my clit making me gasp. I chuckle getting off the counter with his help. My legs shake and I laugh. I grab my clothes putting them back on and making sure I look like I did before I came up here.

“Mike” I hear Lori call from downstairs. To the best of my ability I walk to the door but before I open it Michael grabs my arm kissing me again. This one was more passion than lust. I smile pulling away and open the door. To see Lori coming in. I turn around and turn him around quickly “so this is the master bathroom?” I look at him

“Yea it’s marble counters and the gold trim it’s my favorite and there’s the waterfall shower in there” we walk towards the shower acting like he was explaining me the layout of the bathroom the whole time. I hear loris heels click in the bathroom “baby the boys are looking for you at the pool” he turns around nodding

“Ard come on Z” We walk past Lori and her eyes linger on us.

Me and Mike walk outside and he can’t stop staring at me. He stands at the front of the bar with a microphone “I wanna thank every one for coming out. I wanna thank Lori for putting this together couldn’t have done this without you babe” that word ‘babe’ leaves a stinging mark on my heart as Lori steps up beside her man. She kisses him and then looks at me. I walk backwards dipping out from the crowd. I go inside and grab the champagne I brought. This bottle wasn’t cheap so if they won’t drink it I will. I pour myself a glass and start sipping it. Michael comes in and once again it’s just us alone.

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry. Look Michael as much as we both want it us being together might never happen simply because you and Lori are a thing and y’all are basically destined for marriage”

“Now you know I’ve been about you and only you for a while”

“I can’t tell cause I’m still single and you’re in a relationship” I sigh “I’m leaving this house is beautiful but you need to figure out what you really want” I extend my arms and give him a hug. He plants a kiss on my neck Mumbling the words I’m sorry again.

I grab my champagne and leave the house with a heavy heart and a cloudy mind. That nauseous feeling is back.

[tema-makes-art-sometimes]

As I said, been sick, emotionally and physically, so I haven’t had time to finish this yet, but eventually I will. But here were my ideas/projects for the entire week I didn’t get to do. I’m gonna do them eventually, but for now it’ll probably be shelved because I have other commitments to deal with.

---

Day 1: Coffee Shop / Humanverse

- Writing Piece - Small Town Shoppe AU - First Meeting of Ludwig the baker and Matteo the florist. They have a playful dynamic of teasing one another, making jokes and digs at each other since they're shops next to one another.

Day 2: Office Romance / Snowed In

- Writing Piece - Characters: Romano, Germany, India, Belgium, China, Veneziano - Description: After a surprise snow storm arrives, Ludwig tries to help his co-workers stay warm while they wait for the roads to be de-iced so they can all get home. In the meantime, him and his coworkers get up to some childhood games. Outline: - india and ger talking about a notif about a snow storm - romano fighting on the phone with his brother that he cant get home - feli teasing him to take the time to go flirt with his coworker - china remarks he went out to check his car and they're snowed in until the snow gets shoveled by the trucks, so theyll have a few hours - emma suggests them play some games and relax, winking at lud before talking about playing seven minutes in heaven - The entire office sets it up to get matteo and ludwig into the closet and theyre hopelessly sputtering, embarrassed and gay.

Day 3: Hitmen / Rivals to Lovers

- Art/Writing Piece - Space Cardverse AU - Matteo and Ludwig fighting over a job because they were both hired by the same person and they decide while stuck in this situation that they were going to work together to fuck up the guy that made a fool out of them both. Doesn't mean they like each other though... not yet.

Day 4: Spring has Spring / Gakuen Hetalia

- Art Piece - Gakuen Hetalia AU - Ludwig holding out a love letter to Matteo under a flowering tree in their Gakuen uniforms. Yes he absolutely asked Matteo to meet him out under a tree on the hillside to confess to him because he's hopeless and has no other idea how to do it and he was reading Kiku's manga and saw it in there. Matteo absolutely points it out too.  

Day 5: Idiots in Love / Alice in Wonderland

- Art Piece with a Writing Piece - Alice in Wonderland AU - Matteo and Ludwig mindlessly pining under the nose of the Queen of Hearts. Matteo came to visit the Knave of Hearts on his shift of guarding to bring him a little snack. Both of them are pining and gay and embarrassed.

Day 6: Disney Movie / Cosplay

- Art Piece - CinderLud AU - A piece of the two of them meeting where Ludwig is in his costume for the ball. And Prince Matteo is very very interested in this pretty sparkly man.

Day 7: Secret Meetings / Red String of Fate

- Art Piece - Chessverse AU - Ludwig the Kingside Knight meeting with the dethroned prince now pawn Matteo to follow his heart, even if it puts them in danger against the King of White. - An art piece of them standing against a wall, on different sides of it, a string of fate connecting them both as they talk about life, their fear of Feliciano, and more.

[saphirered]

I’m in love with your writing and binged your entire page one night lol

Could I request a story with Caleb where the M9 find a wounded reader on the run from people who want to use her for her very powerful magical abilities. She doesn’t trust Caleb at first because he’s a wizard and just as she opens up to him and starts to develop feelings discovers he has been studying her powers - thought with no bad intentions. Some good old angsty enemies to lovers type of beat. Preferably with a good ending but do what you wish ;))

Apparently I'm giving you more stuff to binge as this is looking more and more like a several parter 😅. Prepare for loads of angst and conflict and some good hurt/comfort to come but for now, here comes part 1! 😘

Nobody pays attention to a vagrant dressed in rags, looking about a week past their last proper bath begging on the side of the road for money or standing by a shop, mouth watering at the food. Nobody pays attention to what they don’t want to see in their pristine cities. Not unless they want to chase you away because you’re in their way or you’re tarnishing their image. Speaking about image, sometimes some rich folk will take pity upon you, casting a coin your way to make themselves look good and generous in the eyes of others.

That’s exactly what you became when you needed to disappear. You needed to become unseen, unnoticed and a shadow among a crowd. You succeed casting away all remainders of your previous life because in the end, your life is worth more to you than your earthly possessions. Survival above all. You’ll live this way until you can get somewhere where no one will question you, or where you’ll be under the protection of others, far away where your enemies cannot reach you. Maybe Vasselheim is a good place to go? They’re not fond of the arcane magics. Sure you’ll have to give up using some of your own gifts but it’s worth being able to live your life freely.

You’re still a ways away from Vasselheim and you don’t have the funds to get there yet. Even if you make it to a port, stowing away on a ship is fine but you can’t trust them to not throw you overboard or leave you stranded at the nearest island to save provisions. And that’s if they don’t hand you over to any authorities and risk you getting back to square one. You’ll have to wander around Wildemount until you’re able to book passage or find somewhere to lay low, forever on the move. It’s not the worst and you get used to it pretty quickly.

Weren’t you lucky when you saw the recent champions of the Victory Pit were strolling around town flaunting their winnings. You need food. You need warm clothes. And most of all, you could do with some extra change in your pocket. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to steal all of it of course. Just enough to get by and they wouldn’t notice. So you trail them, sticking to the shadows. They don’t seem to notice you.

Then you struck. You got the coin pouch from the ostentatious one. It was child’s play really. He didn’t even notice you lifting the pouch from his belt when you brushed against his shoulder muttering an apology. You were already amidst the crowd when you heard the tiefling exclaim his coin pouch was gone and he put two and two together quickly, the charlatan he is so before you knew it they were on the lookout for someone fitting your description. You had to move quick, buy your necessities and get out of the market. You know just the place to hide out; the Evening Nip. Nobody asks questions there.

Once you found yourself safely sipping on the shitty ale served at the Evening Nip you didn’t expect the colourful group of strangers to stroll in. It was already too late when you spotted them and you had no where to go. Still your quickly gathered up the coin back into the ornate velvet pouch and put it in your own pocket hidden beneath the layers of your clothes putting your hands behind your back as you tried to make a break for the exit. They did not let you pass, a relatively buff looking woman gripping the handle of her sword stepping in front of you while another one, though shorter blocked your escape by interposing her staff.

“No funny business, friend. You have something that belongs to my companion here, and he wants it back.” The half-orc speaks as you grit your teeth. You’d really hoped to avoid this but you weren’t stupid enough to bring out the big artillery… yet… so you lift your hands in surrender and allow them to lead you over to one of the tables taking a seat of your own accord while you’re flanked by the buff woman on one side, the purple tiefling on the other and the rest of them takes up seating of their own around the table keeping an eye on you.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way…” The half-orc leads as the tiefling next to you holds out his hand brushing his other over your shoulder in a soft push, mimicking what you had done when you pickpocketed him. Are they mocking you? Bastards.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.” You speak innocently. You know they won’t buy it anyway, their minds already made up, but it gives you just a second more to get a grasp on all of them. You’re already plotting your escape, despite the odds being turned against you. You have to try.

“Oh, I think you do, and we simply want a conversation. You wouldn’t want to tarnish this new friendship now would you?” The tiefling grins as you look at him. You can feel the strings of enchantment pricking into your mind but you know how this works. You’ll just have to play along. You smile, like being faced with an old friend, just as the spell would have you have, letting your defensive mannerism fade.

“You’re quite right. It’s no way to treat new friends. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot.” You glance between all of them and you feel a pair of blue eyes stare into you, right through you. There’s just something about him that doesn’t add up and you’re almost afraid he knows you’re not under the tiefling’s spell after all but you do whatever you can to not show that on your face and play along.

“Should we get some drinks to commemorate new friends?” You suggest about to get up but the woman in blue’s staff moves across the table right onto your shoulder urging you to stay in place. You don’t look fazed and merely amused with this action as if it is a harmless joke and not a threat. The tiefling moves the staff from your shoulder as you turn your attention back to him as he smiles.

“I think that’s an absolutely wonderful idea. Drinks on me.” He stands with you and begins leading you over to the bar. Clive takes the order and begins pouring the ale as requested while the tiefling keeps conversation with you, completely oblivious and detached from his friends. You play along and when you reach to the coin pouch, you pull out the coins owed to the barkeep. The tiefling smiles and you can see from your peripheral the red head notices too. Both confirm you have the coin pouch. So once you pay you reach for your pocket grasping for a short iron rod placing it in your hand, whispering words under your breath as the tiefling talks to the barkeep, your hands begin to move according to the familiar motions and before the redhead can warn his lavender companion, the tiefling is frozen in place unable to move and you’re making a break for the door.

Spells fly left and right and you dodge a few, take the damage from others as the fighters dependant on close range rush for you. A crossbow bolt hits your thigh and a large cat’s claw appears in front of you. You try to dodge it reaching for you but it catches you and holds you in place despite your struggling to get free. They circle you, bind your hands, take back the coin pouch and your own limited belongings from you as you fight back trying to keep them away from you but you’re just alone and they are the many.

You feel helpless and desperate. That’s when you make eye contact with the blue eyed wizard. There’s a look of recognition in his eyes. Not for who you are directly, but the way you’re acting and lashing out, like some caged animal wishing desperately to be free, like a creature on the run, like you’re two sides of the same coin. His eyes reveal to you pain and suffering and pity but you don’t need his pity. You don’t need anyone’s pity.

“Why did you steal that coin?” The wizard asks as you glare at him from your seated position on the ground.

“Why does anybody steal anything? I’m hungry. I’m cold and I’m broke as hell.” You spit none too kindly.

“Then get a job. Make some money. Or at least learn to be a good thief.” The rude woman snorts. You roll your eyes. Typical. You know plenty of people like her, maybe you even used to be like her but not anymore. You grew out of that the hard way. She will too, in time.

“None of you noticed until you went to pay for something.” You grin and the woman is about to lunge for you at your provocation. So easy to piss that one off. Funny, actually.

“I don’t think she can just get a job. Not a regular one anyway.” The wizard observes as he stares into you. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” Your silence, biting your lip says enough. You don’t have anywhere to go. Once you did but that’s gone. Torn away from you.

“How about this? You spent a good deal of my friend’s coin but we’ll give you the opportunity to make it back as a repayment. Stick around for a little bit and go our separate ways when the debt is repaid?” There’s some protests but the half-orc quiets them down when the wizard speaks up in your favour. He doesn’t trust you, not after the stunts you just pulled, especially not when the look on your face mirrors his own so closely but perhaps it’s something within him that calls to him to make right a wrong, or prevent another soul to be lost to the troubles he’s faced.

With these idiots bound to make a scene they’ll call attention to themselves and by default that means away from you. This might work in your favour. They’re adventurers and given that they seem somewhat familiar with the Evening Nip, you can only assume they’re not exactly always on the right side of the law. You’re not judging but that gives you some safety and assurance should things go south or you need a quick way out. And if things really do turn in your favour, they’ll be your cover to places and funds to get you far far away from this hell hole.

“Looks like you got yourselves a new companion then, friends.” You don’t smile, only displaying an expression so neutral that makes the wizard think for a second he might have made a mistake but for now you have mutual interests and if there’s anything he can count on, it’s the reliability of a common goal, and a lot to lose should you get outed.

So next you know, you’re somewhat absorbed into their little group, learning their names and where they’re from, chatting happily but you can’t help but notice that yours and Caleb’s stories are similar in some ways, mostly the lack of detail. You’ve been raised within the Empire, but found yourself on a less fortunate path fending for yourself. The only difference between you and him is that he found Nott on his path while you had remained alone. The group didn’t seem to mind your lack of details, going with the excuse you’re not about to bare your life story to the people you only just met and you’re lucky. You hadn’t told anyone what happened since you’ve been on the run and you don’t plan on doing so anytime soon, especially not to people who haven’t earned your trust yet.

Of course you’ve been roomed with Caleb and Nott, finding yourself in one of the most expensive inns in the city, paid for by the group. Unlike Nott, who goes through your stuff when she thinks you’re not looking, Caleb is the perfect roommate. He doesn’t cross any boundaries, ask too many questions or has any annoying habits. He just reclines on his bed, going through his spellbook, transcribing new spells to add to his own collection. Every time he does you get extremely uneasy and snappy and do whatever you can to not be in the same space as the wizard. It doesn’t do your roommate relationship any good and may leave you at odds at times. Caleb may not understand why but it’s not his place to ask questions, nor does he think you’ll actually answer them. Instead you make up excuses, helping Beau with training, letting Jester braid your hair, keeping Fjord company while Molly claims their room for one of his escapades, getting some booze for Nott, or when Yasha is there, watch the storms with the woman, anything to get you out of that shared room with the wizard.

————

Rain hits the window of your room in the Pillow Trove as the redheaded wizard strolls in throwing his backpack on his bed and sitting down with a deep sigh. You look up over the edge of the book you’re reading seeing the wizard soaked through the bone wringing out his hair best he can. With a wave of your hand and words uttered under your breath you grin as the water evaporates from Caleb’s form, leaving his hair slightly more curly and frizzy, and his clothes warm and comfy. He gives you a look as you continue reading as if you’re completely unaware of anything going on in the room, completely absorbed into your book. Ignoring Caleb.

“I didn’t take you for the type that reads smutty romance novels.” He comments and gestures towards Courting of the Crick. You finally look at Caleb as if he only just gained your attention, as if you’re only just aware of his presence in the room. Both of you know better but this is how it is.

“You wouldn’t. But according to Jester you enjoy them very much.” You grin, having gotten to hear all about their little trip to the Chastity’s Nook. Caleb gives you a disapproving look as he begins to unpack his things, taking out the fresh ink and paper, setting out his spellbook and you mark your page, putting the book on your side table as you quickly get up and go for the door.

“Where are you off to all of the sudden?” Caleb asks as you grit your teeth. Can he not just leave you alone? Does he really trust you so little you’re not allowed to leave of your own accord?

“I’m going to see Jester and Beau in their room. Now I will bid you good day unless you think I need an escort for the room two doors down.” You snap. Okay, that may have been unnecessary. You could have at least been neutral. Too late for that now. Caleb waves his and as if dismissing you. Act like a child, get treated like a child. So you leave the room letting the door fall closed a little harder than you normally would in protest and make your way over towards Beau and Jester’s room.

Jester, happily lets you in and while Beau has definitely warmed up to you, things are still rocky. She wouldn’t go as far as calling you a friend, but more that one neighbourhood kid her parents tried to get her to play with despite the two of you never really having been friends at all. At least you can bond over your slightly criminal tendencies. It’s Jester who’s completely accepted you as one of her own, questioning you about anything and everything, preaching to you about the Traveler, gushing about her romance novels, specifically Oskar, which you’re pretty sure is actually reflecting her major crush on Fjord but let the girl dream. Who knows what will come of it?

[symphonicsoul]

( @aquaticsoul , for one (1) aamun ) ->

It almost feels as if he is already dead sometimes, or, at least, all the parts of him that matter are.

Someday, his body will follow and really, that scares him more than he wants to admit.

At the same time, he's made peace with it. He's made peace with it many times, the nothingness that will claim him. Just... sometimes, he's still afraid. Sometimes, he's up in the middle of the night shedding silent tears onto the floor over the past and the future alike.

Tonight isn't any different, except for tonight he's decided to do something about it.

Tonight he's gone just outside to solidify a piece of his soul, craft it the best he can into something that isn't a disaster to look at because even if Tiamat and nature and the universe reject his mist entirely when he dies, maybe there's one person who will accept it. Maybe there is one person who will hold this crystalline form of his soul's breath with care and some sort of fondness. Maybe there is one person who will hold it and remember Sielu for who he used to be before all this, because Sielu can't do it himself and this one person promised to find him.

That will be enough for him, and... he's almost sure this will go well. It's the first thing he has been optimistic about since Sydän died.

Once it seems satisfactory and harmless enough, he drags himself back inside, hovering over the far side of the bed like a child who's just woken up from a bad dream.

He is gentle as he nudges his friend, voice no louder than a whisper.

"Aamunkoitto? I'm sorry. I- Could... Could you take this?" he asks, holding out his loosely-closed hand.

There is nothing really for him to have affixed it to aside from a piece of string, and he's waiting to apologize for that just the same, but... they could all die tomorrow, so waiting for a proper chain or closure isn't an option. It is a single crystal tied up in a fraying piece of twine - it is all he has of himself to give back in exchange for the security this man has offered him.

Perhaps, soon, he'll find it in himself to make two more. But for now - for now he is just content to give this one to his best friend. For now he is at peace with this.

·:*¨༺ ✩★✩ ༻¨*:·. The day had been long as it usually was when the three turned four of them now found them continuing to travel through this Wonderland together. That's what the people called it but he still - in all his years here - has yet to find anything wonderful about it. Still there were a few positives now.

Sielu was with them and apparently the prince was alive. They had a goal now. They weren't just wandering aimlessly anymore. No, they were trying to do the one thing that any sane Misterican was very specifically instructed to never do if they valued their life. But sixteen years in a place like this left all of them teetering the edge of their sanity just a little bit. They only needed to do one thing and one thing only now.

Find Svaardzjetrorahm.

If they could find him, then chances were high that they would find the prince. If the posters that Sielu showed them were correct, that meant if they found Svaardzjetrorahm then Valkoinen Pilvi would be with him and then they could get to the bottom of all this. Rumors and what not about Pilvi both abandoned Sielu and committing murder - against his will or not. It was a lot, but Celestial Mother be blessed, at least they didn't feel aimless anymore. At least this gave them some sort of purpose.

So that leaves the four of them exhausted and stopping in whatever crossover town then end up in to crash at what inns they can afford and avoiding the looks of the villagers that always seemed to stare at them in a strange way that produced strange whispers that were hard to avoid with hearing like theirs.

Revon finally fell asleep last, or well so they assumed as he finally allowed himself lay down next to Valo - who had shifted in close to the knight without hesitation or conscious that he was doing so. At this point everyone knew whoever was laying down next to the historian laying down in a trap.

The room fills with the soft sound of snoring as the stars drift away into slumber for several hours until pale hands are pushing against the man of the rose has sharp pink eyes cracking like the dawn. There is a small groan and the sound of his name. Sielu.

Is everything alright?

He's reaching for his glasses that are setting on the night stand in between this two bed room they managed to find at the local inn. Once they're affixed back on his face does the man slowly set up and look over to what the musician is offering him.

A thin piece of fraying twine that looks only a day or so of wear out from snapping if it doesn't have something else to support it's weight with a small gem of an aquatic shine hanging at the end of it. A soul gem. Sielu must not have been able to sleep and as so, he took the time to form his mist into a Soul Gem - just for him.

So gently does the man of roses take the offered gift with a smile creeping on his face hidden behind a mask, he next to never dares to take off in the presence of the others. He's moving to slide down left sleeve of his shift revealing a thin string of beads setting upon his wrist where at the center of them all rests one singular beaded crystal of a glimmering pure white.

Slowly does the morn work to weave the twine into that bracelet so it can lace neatly into the beads and provide both with a little bit of extra support; tying it off so the shimmering aqua now rests hanging just below the glimmering white and he pauses with his wrist raised just long enough for his friend to see his completed work.

"Kiitos, Sielu. This is a treasure, just like you are. I will guard it with my life. Kiitos ystäväni."

[mandolovian]

1. triple-scented jasmine

pairing: cottagecore!din djarin/the mandalorian x reader

warnings: none! reader has some gently spicy feelings but it’s all pretty mild and full of yearning + fluff + pining

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this entire concept is dedicated to @mndalorians​​ - thank u for fueling both my desire to live in the woods, and also to live in the woods with a tin can metal man. let me know what you think! pls expect more of this world bc i love it so so so so much ✨

You’d been eyeing the Mandalorian that moved into the property across from yours.

It was a rundown bungalow sitting on overgrown land: soil that hadn’t been turned, cobwebs that hadn’t been dusted. The previous owner was a portly man with ruddy cheeks - good-natured in temperament, but heavy-handed with the liquor. Towards the later years of his life, he became increasingly neglectful of the raised garden beds that lined the fences, and the poor citrus trees were left to shrivel into husks of their magnificent beings.

The arrival of a spaceship onto the planet sent many hushed whispers through the little farming community, no matter what kind of spaceship it was. Mira came rushing to your front door that morning, laden with town-gossip and bottles of bantha milk, a little shiny eyed and sweaty at effort it had taken to speed walk to your house in the morning sun.

‘It’s a Mandalorian,’ she stage-whispers, cooling herself with an old newspaper while sitting on your porch steps. ‘All shiny and pretty too. Parked his ship in the old hangars downtown. Probably the only ship in those hangars, to tell the honest truth.’

You lean against the doorframe, picking at a loose string on your apron. ‘What’s a Mandalorian doing around here, Mira?’ you ask.

‘Beats me,’ Mira says, shuffling her heavy skirts to sit more comfortably on the steps. The fabric hides the swell of her belly, and she keeps a hand on it when she leans back to look at you. ‘I heard it’s the same shiny Mandalorian that was shooting up all those Outer Rim cities. Maybe he’s looking to settle down here!’

You look down in exasperation at Mira with raised eyebrows, and she throws her hands up in defence before going back to vigorously fanning herself.

‘Either way,’ she says after a while, getting up with some difficulty. You offer her your arm and she takes it gratefully, heaving herself up to her feet. ‘It’ll be some excitement for us, you know?’

Her voice drops to a stage whisper again as she grabs your forearm, grinning toothily. ‘Maybe he’s single and is really looking to settle down!’

‘Mira please-’

‘I’m just saying!’ she says, waving you off. You help her collect the empty bottles back into her basket, and she waddles back down the porch steps. ‘If that Mandalorian comes knocking at your door, you best be opening it!’

----

Mira wasn’t wrong. He really was quite shiny.

With a mug of coffee and a biscuit, you settle yourself on the window seat and curle up your feet under you. It’s a prime position to look through the cracks of the curtains as the Mandalorian unloads his luggage off the rusty hover-trailer. The sun is high in the sky and shines off his armour as he lifts case after case off the trailer, stacking them on the porch of the bungalow.

A little baby follows the Mandalorian’s feet as he walks from the trailer to the house. Green, about a foot high, and almost entirely composed of petal-ears that raises and lowers in time with the crates that the Mandalorian carried. Your heart tightens a little when the baby trips over his little robe and goes sprawling into an overgrown rosemary bush, and tightens just a little more when the Mandalorian reaches down to pick the baby up, stroke his ears, and press the baby’s forehead to his helmet.

Maybe he is here to settle down.

You concede that he’s difficult to wholly admire from afar, but even with the distance that unfortunately befalls between you, you can tell that he was strong. Broad. You let your mind wander at the sight of his thighs when he kneels to tug at a handful of weeds that prevents his fence from latching firmly.

Capable and compassionate.

And if your eyes flutters shut and your thighs press against each other with just a little bit of pressure? Well, no one needed to know.    

-----

‘Hi there!’

If anyone told you that you would open your front door, dressed in a nightdress and slippers, to a fully armoured and incredibly luminescent Mandalorian, you would say they were absolutely dreaming. Even still, there he stands, in his beskar glory, and your breath catches a little at the sight of his broad shoulders taking up nearly all of the doorway.

‘Hello,’ he says, and maker you’re already melting at his voice. ‘My son and I, we just-’ he haphazardly gestures behind him, ‘-moved into the house down there.’

‘I saw,’ you say quietly, choosing to avoid mentioning how much you’ve already stared at him today. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘We don’t seem to have electricity at the house,’ he says with a sigh, tapping his fingers against his belt. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the fuses but the entire system seemed turned off. Would you... would you maybe know why?’

‘You might not have your house connected to the grid,’ you say after a beat, tapping the corner of your lips in thought. ‘That house has been empty for years, of course it’d be disconnected.’

‘Is there a way to fix that?’

You shake your head, and the Mandalorian sighs quietly in response. ‘Not till morning,’ you say. ‘You’ll need to see Ledo Rikil in town tomorrow - he’ll be able to link your house up to the grid.’

‘I see,’ says the Mandalorin. He seems a little sheepish, perhaps dejected, and he lets out a tinny sigh again. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you shift slightly on your feet.

‘If it’s any consolation,’ you begin, not wanting to part so readily, ‘tonight will be warm so you’ll not need any heating, but maybe I can give you some candles for the dark?’

The Mandalorian hums, deep and sugary. Your toes curl inside your slippers at the sound and you feel ever so slightly dizzy. ‘That would be wonderful,’ he said, and stars, was it always going to be like this? Could you keep it together for one conversation?

You usher him over the step into your house, and he gingerly walks in. You can tell that he’s trying his best to avoid stomping on your floorboards, and you know better than to ask him to take his boots off. The Mandalorian carefully moves himself to stand on the rug in your living area - as if he’s a penguin seeking an iceberg on the wooden sea.

‘This is a nice house,’ he says, tilting his helmet as he watched you from the middle of the room. ‘Very… homely.’

He trails off at the end of the sentence, and seems to sink even more sheepishly into his beskar studded boots.

‘You’re allowed to take inspiration, if you like,’ you say with a soft laugh, turning to rummage through your cupboards. ‘Can’t imagine that the old shack has any personality right now.’

‘I haven’t lived in a house in a long time,’ says the Mandalorian, and you hum in response. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him cautiously take a seat at the edge of your couch, rearranging his limbs until his hands were folded on his lap like a regency-era maiden.

‘Well,’ you say, balancing several candles in your arms as you walk over to him, ‘you’ve come to the right place for inspiration and illumination.’

Onto the coffee table in front of him, you lay out the selection: four paraffin pillar candles, a handful of tealights, and one ornate jar, complete with a glass lid. The Mandalorian leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees, tilting his helmet to silently assess your layout.

‘The paraffin ones should be your go-to candles,’ you say, sitting back on your knees on the rug in front of the coffee table. Gently, you push the pillar candles closer to him. ‘They can burn for half a day, and they have a very bright flame. They’ll brighten an entire room with no problem.’

You pick up a tealight, and hand it to the Mandalorian. It sits tiny in the middle of his palm, and he strokes the edge of the wick gently with a gloved finger.

‘Those are good for temporary use,’ you say. ‘Or if you only need light for a small area. Or just for decorating. Up to you, really.’

‘And the glass one?’ he ask.

You pick up the jar and open it, before offering it to the Mandalorian. ‘It’s a housewarming gift,’ you say. ‘Triple-scented jasmine. Made it myself.’

The Mandalorian puts down the tealights, and accepts the jar with as much gentle grace as an armoured man could. ‘You made this yourself?’ he asks, and you nod shyly.

With a quiet groan, you sit up on your knees, and flex side to side to stretch out your sore hips. ‘They’re not too hard to make,’ you say, ‘I could show you one day if you’d like?’

There’s a soft crackle of a laugh, made hoarse by his helmet. It’s warm, delightful, and you wonder what it might feel like against the apples of your cheeks.

‘It’s incredible,’ he say, and you fiddle demurely with the edge of your dress at the praise. ‘Thank you so much for all of this - how could I ever repay you?’

‘Nonsense,’ you say, standing up straight and brushing off your skirts. The Mandalorian stands up with you, and he haphazardly arranges the candles in his forearms before sheepishly accepting a canvas bag from you. ‘Just… come say hello every so often. I’ll introduce you to everyone!’

‘Everyone?’

He’s standing back on your doorstep now, swinging the bag of candles lightly in his left hand. The moonlight shines off the harsh planes of his armour, and you idly wonder how often and how long he spent polishing it. You’d have to ask sometime.

‘It’s a small town,’ you say. ‘We help each other out. It helps knowing one another.’

The Mandalorian steps backwards, carefully down the porch steps and onto your gravel path. ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he says, tilting his helmet towards you. ‘I’ll see you later.’

You cross your arms against the quiet breeze, and lean against the post. ‘Goodnight, Mandalorian.’

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Life in Quarantine (Part 1) | Owen Patrick Joyner

Summary: A series about being stuck in quarantine with your best friend Owen and trying not to lose your mind over being stuck inside all day every day. 

Pairing: Owen x reader

Warnings: Fluff, minor swearing, lots of singing

Songs used: Don’t Let Go by En Vouque/ Washington on Your Side from Hamilton/ More than Words by Little Mix / Not a Pop Song by Little Mix  -- All credits go to owners of these songs

A/N: I know nothing about songwriting and none of this will probably ever happened in real life, but it just worked for the story, alright? Alright. Enjoy! 

Words: 3,372

Part 1: Not A Pop Song

Norman, Oklahoma. My home town. The place where I was born and raised. The place where I learned how to live and love. Where I learned what heartbreak is. Where I met and lost friends. The town all my most valued memories reside. 

It’s also where I met my best friend, Owen. Our mothers were, and still are, college besties. So, us becoming friends was kind of inevitable. We went through everything together. Kindergarten, Elementary, Middle School and High School. Wherever you saw me, you saw Owen and vice versa. A lot of people often thought we were a couple, but that’s been off the table since day one. In Elementary School, Owen and I made a pact with five different rules to seal our friendship forever. The list only grew as we got older. But here’s the gist: 

1. If one is teased or bullied, the other takes revenge 2. Always sing and dance together whenever one asks, even if you don’t want to 3. Always share cookies 4. Always play together at recess 5. Always sit together at lunch

Then the additions from Middle and High School: 

6. We will never, ever, ever date each other or each other’s siblings 7. Ethan, Evan and Emmy are off limits too 8. Crushes too 9. Always go to Broadway shows together 10. Never lie even if you wanna do it for the right reasons. There is no right reason.  11. Always support each other’s dreams and successes 12. Always hate each other’s exes 13. Always share ice cream 14. Never share our secrets with other 15. Always go to parties together

That last one was added by Owen in senior year of High School when I didn’t want to go to a party since it was my exes party and we’re supposed to hate each other’s exes. But, since he’s been in LA for most of senior year to pursue his acting career, I really couldn’t say no. Him going off to Los Angeles for months, sometimes even longer, started in eighth grade when he landed the role of Crispo Powers in a Nickelodeon show called ‘100 things to do before High School’, which I religiously watched, of course.  Rule 9 tells you to. After High School, the two of us split ways. I headed off to Boston to study at Berklee College of Music to major in songwriting as it’s always been a dream of mine to become a songwriter, while Owen went to LA to further pursue his career in acting. We’ve tried to keep in contact, but daily calls turned into weekly calls turned into monthly calls. Five months in, we just try to at least check in with each other every now and then, which is what works best for our busy schedule. Then December 2018 came and changed my life entirely for the better. The representative of Syco and Columbia records said he was in need of fresh blood to co-write songs with none other than Little Mix on their next album.  They held a competition at Berklee College, and long story short, I won! Yay me. To say I was nervous to write with a girl group I’ve been a fan of since the very beginning is an understatement. But they were so nice to work with. We’d take turns flying to each other’s countries and wrote about five songs together of which only two made it onto the actual album. None of it made much sense to me at the time, it all just seemed like one big dream. Owen was pretty excited about it too. He knew how big a fan I was of the girls. Even though he wasn’t a big fan himself, he still listened to the album, mostly to listen to the songs I’d written. Over FaceTime, we even played a game called ‘Guess what song I’ve written’, and he’d gotten one right. The girls even gave you a full-time job as co-writer on more projects of theirs and even recommended you to other artists. This meant you had to quit college and become a full-time freelance songwriter. Thanks to Little Mix, though, you’ve gotten the nicest people to hire you. Since then, you’ve worked with artists like Meghan Trainor, Bea Miller, Isabella Merced -- who you could gossip with about Owen from her time working with him -- and even Harry Styles. The fifteen-year-old inside you didn’t know what to do with herself when that collaboration happened. But working with all those people also meant I had to move again. This time to Los Angeles. When I told Owen the good news, he immediately suggested you move in with him. It’s the thing you guys said you would do once you got older; get an apartment together. So, it was the only logical move. “Welcome to your new casa!” He said dramatically when leading me into the apartment. The tall white walls and large windows illuminated the entire place with a welcoming feeling. “Let me show you to your room, so you can drop off your excessive luggage and then I’ll give you the tour of the entire space.” I raise an eyebrow at his words. “Bro, I have excessive luggage because I just moved from Boston to freaking LA!” I exclaim, followed by an amused chuckle as I try to push him, but fail since he’s much stronger. From that moment on, I knew moving in with Owen would be the best and worst idea I ever had. 

And speaking of ‘worsts’. From March 2020, the two of us were stuck at home together due to the outbreak of the coronavirus. Just when I was supposed to start working with Little Mix on their new album. I would’ve been in London now, but instead, I’m stuck in LA with my best friend who doesn’t have a job at the moment since he’d just finished filming a new Netflix show called Julie and The Phantoms. What I heard from it this far, it sounds pretty amazing. I even went to Vancouver with Owen for a few weeks. It was a fun trip and gave me some new inspiration for some songs. “Hey, Nugget,” Owen says as he walks into the room we call our studio where I’m working. “I’m kinda in the middle of something, Ace. Can it wait?” I know I shouldn’t work out my frustration on my best friend, but it kind of fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “Sorry, Nugget, I’m kinda bored…” I sigh exasperatedly and bob my head to signal his permission to come in. “What are you working on?” he asks as he sits down on the armrest of the armchair I’m sitting on. “This Little Mix song I can’t seem to make work,” I reply and point to the notebook in front of me. “I’ve got a few good lyrics, but the melody seems impossible.” Owen takes the notebook from me and closes it before getting up. “Time for a little break,” he says and goes to sit behind his drum kit. “Guess what song I’m playing,” he then says and starts with the cymbals, then hi-hats and when a beat finally floats through the room, my brain starts to work. This is a game we’ve been playing every time I’m in need of a break or just for fun. We’d take turns in playing a part of a song on our respective instruments and the other has to guess which song it is by singing along. “What’s it gonna be? Cuz I can’t pretend Don’t you wanna be More than friends Hold me tight and don’t let go Don’t let go Have the right to lose control Don’t let go” A smile appears on Owen’s as I get the first song right. He always underestimates my love for girl bands from the 80’s and 90’s. Though, I think he might’ve given me this one because I’m so frustrated from working on that song. “Your turn,” he then says after having hit a couple more toms and cymbals. I think about it for a moment, and then start plucking the sixth string to create a more bassy sound. Owen stares at the guitar for a moment trying to figure out what song I’m playing. Then, his eyes widen as he recognizes the sound. “It must be nice, it must be nice To have Washington on your side It must be nice, it must be nice To have Washington on your side” I let out a loud whoop in excitement, choking the strings to stop the sound. “I still can’t do that rap though!” he actually sounds disappointed in himself. “Washington isn’t gon’ listen to disciplined dissidents This is the difference This kid is out!” I proudly yell out, earning impressed applause from my best friend. The smile on his face warms me up inside. Owen has always had the most beautiful smile, in my opinion. He has one of those smiles that could just instantly make you happy. No matter how bad a day you had. “Very impressive, Nugget,” he replies with a smirk that sends shivers down my spine. Ever since I moved in, he’s gotten more and more flirty with me. I’m not sure if it’s just a change in his personality that he’s acquired in Los Angeles or if it’s something else, but it’s there. Not that I mind. Something has shifted in me too since we moved in together. It’s even gotten me thinking about removing rule number 6 from our pact. “Your turn, Ace,” I quickly change the subject, just so I don’t have to think about him like that too much. Our dynamic as best friends is too good to ruin it all. Twenty years of that is a long time to just throw away like that. “Alright, an easy one,” he says and simply starts stomping the bass pedal to activate his bass drum.  It’s a slow, almost menacing thump that sounds very familiar. A little too familiar. “Oh, I need you more than words can say Oh, You saved me in ways I can’t explain Always been there for me, now I’ll do the same Oh, I need you more than words can say” It’s one of the two songs on Little Mix’s last album that I helped write. The song that means most to me since I wrote it with Owen in mind. It was a period of time where all I wanted was to see Owen and be able to talk to him and just spend time with him like we used to before his whole acting adventure. I think he’ll stop after the chorus, but instead, he picks up his drum sticks and starts playing the rest of the song on his drum kit. Deciding it could be a fun jam session, I start playing the chords on my guitar as well whilst continuing with the lyrics. “Won't forget, won't forget Won't forget when he broke my heart How you helped me through You turned, you turned, you turned a disaster into a dream Gave me the power, made my life brand new When the world try to break us, we found magic And we grew stronger, though every line, line, line Every night, every night, every night I strain and sing the truth Now, now they know that they gonna be alright, alright” The memories of when I wrote this song start slipping through my mind. I remember how alone I felt, even in a room with a dozen other people. I remember how much I missed Owen. “I find peace in every story you told I think of you, I'll never be alone It's true, true, true You know I do, do, do” My eyes lock with Owen for a moment. He shoots me a comforting smile that makes me feel right at home. And I don’t mean here. I mean home as in Norman, Oklahoma. “Oh, I need you more than words can say Oh, you save me in ways that I can't explain Always been there for me, now I'll do the same Oh, I need you more than words can say Oh, I need you more than words can say” We both stop playing and just look at each other for a while. I’ve never told Owen I wrote this song for him, but at the same time, I think he might already know. That doesn’t take away the urge to tell him though. “I wrote that about you when I missed you,” I blurt out without properly thinking about it. “Really?” he asks while coming out from behind his kit. Combing his long, blonde hair back, he makes his way over to me and grabs the guitar from my lap. “Yeah, I thought you’d know?” He chuckles, shaking his head whilst tickling the strings. I’d taught him a couple of songs on the guitar since we started living together. “You write with a lot of people, Nugget. Could’ve just been their words as well....” He isn’t wrong about that. Maybe it was a lot less obvious than I thought it was. “So, what are the guidelines for this one?” he questions. I grab my notebook again and open it on the page I was working on before he fluttered into the studio. “They didn’t want another pop song. Kind of more like a ‘fuck you’ to Simon Cowell for treating them so badly and telling them what to do and what to wear and whatnot,” I explain, showing the few lines I have already. Some of them Jade had sent me, others were Perrie’s, a couple were mine. “What are most pop songs about?” Owen queries. I know he’s trying to help me, but he’s kind of making me nervous with the constant strumming of the guitar. “Songs about falling in love, or drinks and drugs…” I sum up at the top of my mind, “Or heartbreak…” Owen nods his head whilst continuing to play the same few chords over and over again. I focus on the melody for a moment as my creative juices start to work again. “This ain’t another pop song ‘bout falling in love Or a party song ‘bout drinks and drugs No more singing songs ‘bout breaking my heart And my lonely nights dancin’ in the dark” I look up at Owen for validation. Nodding his head encouragingly, he keeps playing the same few chords but a little louder this time to support the flow of my lyrics. “If I’m a guilty pleasure I want this life forever I’ll take it all ‘cause anything is better Than another pop song ‘bout falling in love But if you wanna sing along say ‘I don’t give a fuck!’” Owen starts jumping around excitedly, and I can’t help but laugh at his adorableness. He used to get this excited whenever I sent him a demo of the songs I was working on. “Let’s record a demo!” he exclaims and, after handing me my guitar back, moves towards the recording equipment. “Let’s start with some guitar,” he says and that’s how our recording starts. First, the guitar, then Owen records some drums, and then I get behind the mic to sing the song all by myself. I can just imagine how amazing this’ll sound with the girls’ voices instead of mine. “No broken bottles Or glitter on the floor form the night before Ain’t no boy troubles If that’s what you came here for then you should know” I lapse back into the chorus one last time before we finish recording and put everything together. We listen to it a couple more times before sending it over to Little Mix and their management. Awaiting their answer, we head into the kitchen to make some dinner together. It only takes about half an hour before I get a call from Jade. “This song is epic!” she shouts into my ear before I can even say hello. “Exactly what we needed, Y/N, thank you so much!” I’ve grown accustomed to her thick Geordie accent, though it was hard to understand in the beginning. “Thanks, Jade! Owen helped me out a little,” I reply, looking up at Owen himself who shoots me a wink that sends a rush of heat from my head all the way to my toes. The girls all know about Owen. I’d told them about my best friend and how supportive he was, and they always teased me saying I was so in love with this guy. Which I didn’t realize at the time and always denied. Rule 6 clearly states no dating each other. “Give him a big snog as a thanks then!” Jade jokes, and I can even hear the others in the background. “I’m on Zoom with the girls at the moment. They say hi!” “Hi back!” I can’t stop the giggle from escaping from my lips. “I gotta go, Jade. Thanks for getting back to me about the song. I can’t wait to hear you guys singing it!” Jade snickers on the other side of the line. All while I’m watching Owen make some pasta at the stove. There’s something so attractive about him in the kitchen, I’m not sure what it is. Fuck, Jade is right. I am very much in love with my best friend and there’s nothing I’m going to be able to do about it. Stupid pact we made in the first grade. “We’ll call you later to discuss some more arrangements and stuff. Bye, Y/N!” “Bye, Jade! Bye girls!” I say loudly, knowing I’m probably on speaker phone anyway. “Bye, Y/N!” the girls chorus. I hang up the phone and look at Owen for a few seconds before bursting out into an excited cheer, dancing my way towards him. “They loved it! They loved it! They loved it!” I shout loudly, and cup Owen’s face in my hands before pressing my lips to his in an outburst of elation. I’m surprising yourself at first, but then melt into the familiarity of his embrace as his arms snake around my waist whilst kissing me back. He’s actually kissing me back. “And that’s rule number 6 out the door…” Owen mumbles when he pulls away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” I mumble and step away from him, or at least try to. His arms tighten around my waist, restricting me from taking another step. “I’ve been thinking about talking to you about that stupid rule, Nugget. I’ve hated it ever since we were 16.” My eyes widen at his confession. Since we were sixteen? SIXTEEN? That’s four years ago. That’s even long before I realized I felt more for him than just a platonic love. “16? Why didn’t you say anything?!” Owen chuckles, retracting his arms from around my waist and instead tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before placing his hand on my cheek. “You were pretty enamoured with Ryan, remember?” My heart breaks at the mention of the prick’s name. Ryan was my very first heartbreak and the worst at that. Owen was in LA at the time, but when he heard the news, he almost immediately flew back to Norman Oklahoma to comfort me and eat ice cream together. “Besides, I was constantly on the move from LA to Norman, it wouldn’t have been fair to you…” “You’re the sweetest human being alive, Owen Patrick Joyner,” I tell him with a smile tugging at my lips, but then turn serious again as I flick his forehead. He lets out an ‘ow’ and shoots me a confused glare. “And the stupidest! I’ve been in love with you since I don’t know when, but I never realized until now! The girls from Little Mix even knew but I was too oblivious or stubborn to see it myself. If you’d told me, I probably would’ve realized sooner!” “Well… I told you now?” he tries, the cheesiest smile on his face that makes me roll my eyes. “I love you, Ace,” I whisper, “And not the platonic kind this time.” “I love you too, Nugget.” He leans down again after that, reconnecting our lips into a passionate kiss. The first of many. This ought to be a very interesting quarantine together.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @caitsymichelle13​ @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15​

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist! 

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Still The One - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 1)

*Kinda a companion to my series Outside the Rain... basically I didn’t like where I took that series, so I’m “starting over” with this one. It’s a bit of a flash forward about a year or so after where that series left off. You don’t necessarily have to read that series first, but you certainly can. 

I chose the title Still the One based on both song by the band Orleans and Shania Twain because I love both of these songs and I think both fit with where I’m going with this... hopefully. And... One Direction had a song by the same name too... so why not. 

**

“Like a cigarette without a light...like a whippoorwill without the night… a broken buzz that’s lost it’s high, oh baby that’s what I feel like,” you sang softly as you strummed the strings of your guitar.

You wrote down the lyrics into your journal. You had been itching to put this song… your feelings down on paper and you finally got around to doing it. Even though it was something you wanted, needed to do, it was also something that made everything you were feeling real.

It had been well over six months since you and Harry had ended your relationship. Technically, it was worded as a break, but it ended up being an actual breakup. Things had been going fine for the most part, but then 2020 happened and it all became too much. So, naturally, you pushed him away to the point neither of you were happy anymore. You even pushed your friends, the girls in the band you just reunited with, away.

Pushing people away, especially those you are closest with has always been your downfall. Whenever you’re feeling down or sometime of way, you rather deal with it alone because you don’t want to risk bringing down someone else. So, you just… push them away until they don’t want to bother with you anymore. Or they give you an ultimatum and you don’t choose them.

Which is exactly what happened with both relationships. Everything had been going great for you at the time. Your band was back together after you all took some time for solo projects and the fans were looking forward to you going on tour. But then, you injured your knee, putting the upcoming tour in jeopardy, which caused a rift between you and the girls. And it only got bigger and worse from there.

When it came to your love life, you were the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You met your ex, Harry Styles, at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame, when you both performed and introduced Stevie Nicks that night. You and Harry had quickly hit it off and with the help of some nudging from your good old Aunt Stevie, you two got together. And you fell fast and hard.

And that’s exactly when things took a turn. With your knee injury, Harry had agreed to stay with you to help you out, but it was also around the same time that he had his own things he needed to do. You felt as if you were holding him back. Then there was a little mishap over an old photo, which eventually got resolved, but it also brought up some feelings that scared you.

So, with the mix of those two that then carried over into the hot mess of 2020, your abort mission instincts kicked it and well… now you’re in the exact place you had wanted all those months ago.

Suffering alone with a broken heart. Just when one injury fully healed, you brought another one upon yourself and honestly you didn’t know which one was worse.

You wrote half of the song when you finally couldn’t take it anymore. You had to stop and walk away. You put down your guitar, closed your journal, and went out to your balcony. You took deep breaths as you soaked up the remainder of the sunlight as the sun started to set and let the wind caress you.

All it would take is for you to pick up the phone and call him… call the girls… reach out and talk to them. But you couldn’t. Too much has been said and there’s been too much time that has gone by for a simple phone to make it all better. Besides, you don’t even know what you would say to any of them at the moment.

Especially to Harry. The second you hear his voice, you know you’d break down and wouldn’t be able to speak. And plus, did you even have the right to call him and expect him to even give you the time of day? You hurt him. You broke his heart just as much if not more than you broke your own. There’s a big possibility that he was over you, that he moved on, or that he was so pissed off at you, he didn’t want to hear anything you had to say.

And if you were being honest with yourself, the latter might actually hurt worse. The past few months, once the overwhelming feeling started to dissolve, you knew you had fucked up and of course, now you knew you royally fucked up.

Which meant Harry deserved to move on. He deserves someone who would choose him and wouldn’t push him away like you did, so with that being said, maybe…maybe it was time for you to let him go.

**

Punch after punch after punch, Harry strikes the punching bag in front of him. Sweat dripped down his face and chest as his arms burned with each hit. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm before going back to his punching fest. No matter how long he did this, no matter how long he went for a run, there was still this pressure built up inside his chest.

An ache that has been there for a while and no matter what he did, it wouldn’t go away. He even tried writing out his pain, but it only made it worse.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Jeff said from the doorway.

“Doing what?” Harry asked, chugging down some water.

“Sulking, feeling sorry for yourself, trying to beat the shit out of that bag to make yourself feel better,” Jeff mumbled.

“I’m working out,” Harry defends.

“That’s what you’re telling yourself, but it’s obvious,” Jeff said.

“What are you talking about?” Harry said, throwing off his boxing gloves.

“I get it, you’re still in love with Y/N and dealing with all of that shit on top of everything else, but avoiding what’s going on is going to work. You need to either try and reach out to her and get closure to whatever the fuck, or you need to move on, because this- this isn’t it,” he told him.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Harry snapped. “Do you think I enjoy feeling like this? I’m fucking tired of it! I thought… I fucking thought she was it for me, but once again I was too fucking blinded about falling in love, about wanting someone to come home to and look where it fucking got me.”

“You’re angry,” Jeff stated. “Let it out.”

“I can’t!” Harry snapped.

“Why not?” Jeff asked.

“Because I can’t be angry with her,” Harry sighed. “That’s the fucking problem. This… all of this shit would be so much easier if her breaking up with me was because she didn’t love or hell even if she cheated on me, but knowing she broke it off because she’s dealing with shit...I wasn’t enough for her. I wasn’t enough to help her. That’s my job… I’m supposed to be there for her… to help her… to protect her, and I fucking failed.”

“Hey,” Jeff rushed over, taking his best friend into his arms. “You didn’t fail. Y/N had her own issues, and she… I don’t know why she pushed you away, but that isn’t your fault.

Harry put his head into his hands, wiping away the sweat and the tears falling down his cheeks.

“I think...I think enough time has passed that you should reach out to her. It might be the best for the both of you,” Jeff suggested.

“I don’t know,” he sighed.

“The Grammy’s are in a few weeks, both of you are going to be there,” Jeff said. “Don’t you think it would be better for the two of you to hash this out before seeing each other for the first time on national TV?”

Harry sighed, knowing he was right, but he still didn’t know if he could bring himself to reach out to you just yet. He didn’t know if he could hear your voice and not break down. However, he knew he would have to face this eventually, but now wasn’t the time.

**

You were currently in your home studio laying down the track of the song you had recently written. You weren’t the best at mixing or producing, but you knew and were comfortable enough to make it sound half decent. At least until you could get some others to come in and work on it.

It took a few goes until you found one you were satisfied with. You downloaded and sent the demo to your crew.

“Okay, that’s enough for the day,” you mumbled.

You turned everything off before heading into your kitchen where you made yourself some food. Just as you were sitting down to binge watch another show, your phone rang. Your heart instantly sank at the sound of the ringtone, still after all this time, you got a bit anxious wondering who was on the other line.

Seeing Stevie’s name across the top brought both a little ease, but also a bit of disappointment.

“Hey, Stevie,” you answered.

“How’s my favorite goddaughter?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” you sighed.

“You don’t sound okay,” she noted.

“I’m just… going through it,” you mumbled. “I’ll be fine.”

“Aren’t we all,” she said. “But I also know that just because you keep saying you’re fine doesn’t mean you are.”

You sighed.

“Look, I’m back in town, why don’t you come over, spend a few days if you’d like, and we can talk through this because if I know you, you’ve been alone this entire time and that’s not good for anyone,” she said.

“How do you always know everything?” You mumbled.

“I’ve been around a long time and lived an interesting life, I know things,” she smirked.

“Apparently,” you sighed. “Fine, I’ll stop by tomorrow afternoon.”

“I look forward to seeing you,” she smiled.

You sighed, ending the call, and wondered what Stevie had up her sleeve.

**

Harry finished up rehearsals before stopping by to get food. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he sat in the car driving to home, well the place he stayed at while he was in LA. Even though he lived there, he couldn’t bring himself to call it home. It felt too empty, too cold for it to ever be a home.

Just as he pulled into his driveway, got out of his car, and carried his bag of food inside, his phone started to ring. Everytime his phone rang, he silently hoped it was you calling on the other line, but if it was, he didn’t know if he could bring himself to answer.

But it wasn’t you, but it was someone close to you… and to him. Stevie. He thought about not answering it, letting it go to voicemail then maybe following up with a text that he’ll call her soon, but he knew it wasn’t fair to let his relationship with her be affected by what happened with you.

“Hey,” Harry answered.

“Hello there, how’s everything going?” She asked.

“It’s going,” Harry laughed. “I just finished up rehearsals.”

“For the Grammys right?” She asked.

“Yep that would be it,” he said.

“How are you feeling about that?” She asked.

“Nervous… and excited, ready to get back on stage,” he answered.

“It’ll be a great night, I’m sure,” she said. “But I know you’re probably busy, but I wanted to let you know I’m back in town and I would love for you to come over for dinner tomorrow night, as long as you’re not busy.”

“Um… I’ve got another rehearsal earlier in the day, but I could stop around for a quick dinner,” he nodded.

“Great, it’s settled, then. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

Harry hung up and sat down with his food. It wasn’t exactly unheard of for Stevie to call him up and invite him over for dinner. They’ve both done that plenty of times, but there was something going on with this particular invite Harry just couldn’t put his finger on.

But whatever it was, he would find out tomorrow.

**

And there’s the first part... not sure how often I’ll update since I am still writing the Sunflower AU series, but I’m going to try and post every other week at first. 

Let me know your thoughts! 

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 3

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 3

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2344

Summary: It’s Christmas in Wisconsin for Sam and the reader.

Warnings: angst (sensing a theme here), alcohol, slow burn

           Christmas Eve was a Thursday, which meant you were working. You’d predicted it would be slow, but there were big chunks of time where no one was in the bar at all. Christmas carols on the radio helped pass the time, and you drank a little more of the almost-coquito you’d thrown together in the back at the beginning of the shift than you needed to. It reminded you of your aunt and the way she’d smell of coconut through Boxing Day every year when you were growing up; welcome nostalgia you could tolerate like pressing a thumb into a bruise and distracted you from the evisceration of thinking of Dean. The day shift had left the bar understocked, so Sam spent a good amount of time going up and down the stairs refilling refrigerators and cutting fruit for drinks. Around 10 or 11 the people who didn’t want to wrap up the night when their in-laws went home straggled in, a handful of regulars that you generally liked but had a tendency to get a little rowdy when left alone together. It didn’t help that they showed up a few drinks in.

           The merriment was infectious, and it was sweet to hear grown men proud of the gifts they’d gotten their loved ones. One even brought a few bottles of homemade maple syrup to give to the others, sliding one sheepishly across the bar to you. You were pouring out a round of coquito when Sam came up from the basement with a towel tossed over his shoulder.

           “Everything should be good,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t cut it in months and the ends fell gracefully around his shoulders. A piece fell oddly across his forehead and you reflexively fixed it for him.

           “What did you two get each other?” a regular, Steve, asked with a relaxed finger pointing between you and Sam. His cheeks were ruddy with whiskey and winter air.

           “Oh. I—uh, we don’t really do gifts,” Sam offered placatingly.

           “Man, where did you find this girl? Listens to classic rock, drives a stick shift, and doesn’t ‘do gifts’?” another, Joe, added.

           “You better be buying her some presents or someone else will.” Jake, a customer you’d always felt safe around since he tossed out a rude guy for you a month back, chimed in.

           You and Sam had never explicitly said that you were together. People just assumed, and it was easier to go along with it than explain the truth, especially because you didn’t look similar enough to be siblings and you still couldn’t shake your need to cling to him from time to time. It was almost never an issue aside from periodic mild teasing. This Christmas talk was a departure from the non-explanations you and Sam usually gave and you found yourself waiting for a cue on where to go. Sam seemed to be having the same thought, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

           You spoke before the moment had a chance to become too pregnant. “You know how hard it is to buy presents for a guy who doesn’t like having stuff? If he buys me something, I’ll have to get him something too!” You hoped it sounded smooth, your lying out of practice in the months since you’d had a cover on a hunt. Sam smirked gratefully at you.  

           Joe shook his head wistfully. “Seriously, where did you find her?”

           “She’s pretty great, isn’t she?” Sam’s voice sounded sort of soft around the edges, almost like he was tired but not quite. When you looked up at him, that pebble of self-consciousness you’d felt at the hardware flipped in your stomach again and you glanced away in favor of a one-armed hug you intended to look affectionate. Sam did the same, encompassing your entire shoulder with his hand.

           When you drove home that night, warm and full of coquito, Sam played Christmas carols.

           “I think we should do gifts.”

           It was the first thing you thought when you woke up, and you said it into Sam’s chest as you laid there before you opened your eyes. You could tell from the rhythm of his breathing that he wasn’t all the way asleep.

           “Hmm?”

           “I think we should do gifts. We should really do Christmas if we’re going to do it, and that means presents. What do you think?”

           You felt as much as you saw out of the corner of your drowsy eyes that Sam raised his unpinned arm to rub the sleep out of his. “Mmm, okay? I mean if that’s what you want.”

           “Thank you,” you said as you nestled deeper into him.

           “‘S already Christmas though.” Sleep pulled Sam’s words together like taffy.

           “It can be goofy stuff; I just think we should open presents under a tree and everything. Seems like the kind of thing we should do, you know? Like trying to be normal.” You couldn’t bear saying out loud what you meant, that Dean would’ve wanted presents and stockings and eggnog and Santa hats and a big roast if he could’ve, to fall asleep after watching the stars glitter off of falling snow.

           Sam heard anyway.

           “You’re right,” Sam murmured. He rubbed your upper arm absentmindedly.

           “I’ll wake you back up when the bathroom’s free,” you offered, carefully rolling over him to get out of the bed. He nodded with closed eyes and flopped over onto his stomach.

           About an hour later, a wet haired Sam slid into the Impala’s driver side and rubbed his hands together to warm them up. You could tell from the puffiness around his eyes and his overcompensating casual tone that he’d been crying. He set his phone to pipe Your Inner Fish through the stereo and backed down the driveway over snow tamped down over the last week.

           It had been years since you’d gone Christmas shopping, as much as this could be considered Christmas shopping. The town you’d settled in had exactly 7 businesses on a tiny main street, including 1 small inn, a grocery store, the hardware store, a coffee shop (the most reliable internet in town, much faster than your place) and 3 different places to get a burger. You met Sam in the grocery store after grabbing what you wanted from next door in hardware, catching him just as he came out carrying a bag with a long pipe of wrapping paper stretching far past the top. When you left, there were only two other cars in the parking lot grabbing their own last-minute things.

           You wrapped your presents on the bed. It wasn’t like riding a bike as you’d hoped it would be, and your sloppy corners started you down a mental spiral. What a completely asinine thing, wrapping hardware store presents to put under a stolen tree. This wasn’t the Rockwell painting you wanted to present as sacrifice to Dean’s memory. It was cheap and stupid, a sloppy high school production when Dean deserved Broadway. He always had. As much as the three of you had never really done Christmas, Dean knew how to make something special while maintaining the air of not caring. You remembered waking up on his made-up anniversaries: six months from the first time you kissed, three years since he realized he loved you (three years minus 53 days before he said anything), 14 months since you’d figured out how to put a gun back together in the dark. Even in the most podunk little towns he’d find gorgeous bouquets and put together great meals in tiny kitchenettes; drive miles away to pick up a cake for Sam’s birthday or pepper motel rooms with festive streamers and silly string. Two quick, hard breaths through your nose to collect yourself and you finished the wrapping. That would have to be good enough.

           Sam was crouched in front of the fireplace with a bellows, a plucky little fire kicking into gear with his help. “All yours,” you called out, grateful your voice didn’t crack.

           “Thanks. It’ll only be a second.”

           He was right, and came back to you on the couch in only a few minutes with two wrapped bundles. You shyly handed him what you’d wrapped and took his.

           “Uh, Merry Christmas I guess,” Sam said. You noticed the edge of discomfort in his voice and were sickly grateful not to be alone in your tentativeness as you popped open the scotch tape holding the paper on the rectangular package. Before you’d uncovered it, Sam had his first gift unwrapped.

           “Nice! They had these at the hardware store?” he asked, snapping open the clamshell package on the cheap purple noise-cancelling earbuds you’d picked up.

           “I’m sure they’ll sound like they were made underwater, but I figured you could hide them pretty easily if you wanted to wear them at work, listen to your podcasts while you restock or whatever.”

           “That’s a really good idea.” He looked down at the headphones considerately for a beat.

           You pulled the paper off your present to reveal a notebook and two ballpoint pens. It had a leatherette flexible plastic cover that felt smooth under your fingertips and was about the size of a standard hardcover novel. You opened it to see inside, and a few photos dropped out.

           “I just—you didn’t have any—I can take them back if you want,” Sam stammered, but you heard him as if through those checkout-aisle headphones while your eyes blurred. These were pictures you hadn’t seen for years. The one on top of the loose stack in your lap was outside Bobby’s house. It felt like a lifetime ago, leaning over the railing of the small porch to kiss Dean as he stood on the ground in a sweaty t-shirt covered in engine grease. Under that was one you remembered used to be the background of an old phone, where you, Sam, and Dean huddled together in a booth at some bar you’d forgotten the name of in Montana that had girls dressed up as mermaids swim around in big tanks, part of the same theme that explained the blue fishbowl drink partly out of frame in Dean’s hands. There was one you didn’t recall with you and Dean stretched out on a nondescript motel couch, his arm protectively covering you as you coiled up into his side, both clearly asleep from the closed eyes and slightly parted lips. The last was a picture you hadn’t seen since the last time you went to Jody’s house; it had touched you then to see it hanging up on the wall, you carrying Dean piggyback while Sam clutched his knees laughing. It was the same day Claire had turned 16 and you had no idea why you’d needed to convince Dean you could carry him, but the whole thing had ended up with everyone rolling on the ground, grabbing at laugh-opened rib pains for what felt like blissful hours.

           You weren’t surprised at the silent tears that were pouring gently down your face, but wiped at them harshly with your sleeve so they wouldn’t drip. “Sam—” you croaked. “I don’t…I didn’t—thank you. How did you find these?”

           “They had an instant photo printer at the grocery store. I’ve had a flash drive with some stuff on it for a while.”

           You passed through each picture again, studying them like the gospel. It was almost hard to match the photos to the memories, memories having been replayed and multiplied and color-saturated in your mind over and over again, too big to fit into these little pieces of cardstock. But Dean was so beautiful, and you all looked so happy.

           “It’s supposed to help to write about how you’re feeling, so I thought…” Sam trailed off.

           “It’s perfect. I—thank you, Sam.” You met his eyes, stormy blue-green and taking on an amber reflection off of the fire. He looked nervous and almost guilty, like he had miscalculated and hurt you. Carefully slipping the photos back into the notebook, you set it on the table like it was made of crystal and threw your arms around Sam to tuck into him, knowing you were crying through his shirt but unable to stop. You realized you were murmuring thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou into the crook of his neck at the same time you felt the wetness of his tears onto your shoulder. Pulling him in tighter, you slunk back into the arm of the couch behind you. Sam slotted into the curve of your body, wrapping around your torso with powerful, gentle arms. His hair was silken when you began to stroke it, feeling his wracking sobs against your chest. It was impossible to gauge the amount of time it took for both of you to stop crying, skin slick and hot against each other on the old couch as your bodies hardened together like a mold. You felt dried out and sore and wouldn’t have pulled away from Sam if you’d had a gun to your head.

           “Man, and we were doing so well,” you hummed into Sam’s hair.

           “Were we?” Sam asked, and it was all you could do to laugh. Sam laughed too, the emotional and physical fatigue of it blending between you in the air. He adjusted his arm and you could feel the span of his hand across your lower back. The two of you sat there for a few more moments before you gathered up enough courage to let go of him.

           “Want to open the other one?”

           Sam nodded against your chest and slowly extricated himself, running a hand through his messed-up hair and rubbing his neck as he reached for the other present you’d gotten him. He tore through the paper unceremoniously and smiled down at the shoe repair glue and new boot laces. “You saw they split, didn’t you?”

           You smiled back at him. “Would’ve just gotten you a new pair of boots but, you know, late notice. Maybe this’ll buy you some time.”

           He handed you his second gift from the coffee table. Inside the foil-adorned wrapping paper were three bags of gummy worms.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 4

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass , @anxiousbarnes , @deanwinchesterswitch , @akshi8278 , @itsjensenanddean , @flannellover67 , @weepingwillowphoenix , @tj-drinks-tea​ , @whatareyousearchingfordean , @winchestergirl2 , @winchest09​ , @samwisethegr8​ , @fawnxng​ , @nurse-sarahrn​ , @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love​ , @deanwanddamons​ , @stressedoutkitten​ , @winchestershiresauce​ , @tatted-trina6​ , @percico-heronstairs​ , @downanddirtydean​ , @mamitoqueens , @queenoftheunderdark​ , @lyarr24​ , @waywardwifey​ , @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ , @wonder-cole​ , @sergeantsea​

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!