#1. people with long hair who go to the hair dresser and leave looking like they did a hair treatment and nothing more

[gaycousinlarry]

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[sunlightmurdock]

AETERNA | Prologue

SYNOPSIS: WHAT’S THE USE IN MAKING PLANS? IT’S ALL INEVITABLE ANYWAY.

WORD COUNT: 2550

MASTERLIST

MOODBOARD

PLAYLIST

quick lil a/n: this isn’t an OC fic, audrey will just be a recurring character who is mentioned through the fic and this spooky lil prologue is her origin story I guess 🫶 we meet reader in chapter 1

…

Audrey Weiss began her last morning the way that most people do: unknowingly. Unknowing in the sense that it was the last time she would bark at her sister to get out of the bathroom, or sigh too loudly when her mother asked her to take the trash out.

Mere weeks from graduation, her focus should have been college in the fall and summer trips and prom. Instead, she was thinking much shorter term — simply of her plans for that evening.

She had ducked out of her parents’ three-bed ranch style in the middle of Saturday morning breakfast, headed for the indubitably more important venture of tackling La Mesa Shopping Mall with her best friend, Suzie Clarke. Once Girl Scouts together, Audrey and Susanne were attached at the hip even now that they were all grown.

Suzie Clarke was the first person the police would speak to the next day, after Audrey was reported missing.

Exactly three weeks and four days from her high school graduation, big things were on the horizon for Audrey. She had been accepted into some pretty good schools for that fall, but her pick was Mount Holyoke — she was going to be a lawyer.

At the mall, she had found the most gorgeous jumpsuit. A peach color that made her brown hair look like pure silk with a crochet floral middle and bell bottoms that made her legs look a mile long. Something awful grown-up for a girl like Audie, but that was the point.

Then, back home, she had considered leaving her large, round wire-framed glasses on their vanity. They made her eyes look ten times bigger and unnatural, and her mouth look small — but she probably wouldn’t look too stellar if she couldn’t see either. These opinions were her own, formed by middle school boys from years passed.

To her baby sister, her glasses made Audie look awfully smart. There’s an old People magazine in their mother’s dresser that shows Barbara Streisand in a dark-framed pair of eyeglasses; Audie could look just like that if she combed her hair a bit.

To make matters worse after deciding that her glasses would make the cut, before she could make it to the safety of Stacy’s car, Audie’s mother had forced a denim jacket over her shoulders and told her to mind the weather. Like it was ever that cold around there.

Still, Audrey’s confidence was unwavered. She looked dynamite in her new jumpsuit, and four weeks into the long stretch that eighteen years old was supposed to be, she looked grown-up for the very first time, even with the glasses.

For the sixth time since March Third, 1977, Audrey Weiss bought a ticket and visited the circus on the outskirts of her hometown.

Santa Paloma, Arizona, was a safe place and only a stone’s throw from Phoenix. It had a movie theater and a couple of arcades, plenty of playgrounds, and a roller rink. Still, Audrey wasn’t interested in hanging out at any of those places.

No, she had her sights set bigger. Older. She wanted more than the other girls her age. Maybe if the boys her age had been kinder, this wouldn’t have been the case.

That’s why she was here, and why this sixth visit was going to be special; she had met a guy. In her killer new jumpsuit, with her hair done like Farah Fawcett, and her Mom’s lipstick coating her lips — her mind was all made up, tonight was the night that she was going to make her move.

Restless in every sense of the word, Audrey had lept out from the backseat of Stacy’s bubblegum blue MGB roadster first, her heart aflutter and her friends in tow. The late April sky was ablaze, orange and pink. It was quite the send off.

Children laughing and screaming, Audrey knew her way around the circus attractions well by now. She bid her friends goodbye with knowingly exchanged giggles, and started to walk. They had discussed Audrey’s plan in great detail by the point of its execution.

Brown leather sandals, barely leaving footprints across red dirt; she was gentle like that. Neon lights surrounding her, she passes by the carousel where she had first seen the man of her dreams for the last time. Its chimes sing her a goodbye as she disappears deeper into the Friday night bustle.

Eager, grinning faces surround her in a blur as Audrey strolls down the midway. A nervous, fast-feeling energy buzzes through her trembling limbs. The ring toss to her right, the shooting game to her left, her sights set straight ahead.

She had been too nervous to pick at the meatloaf her mother had made, and the air had smelled of warm popcorn and sugar. Her stomach growled, leaving no room for butterflies.

Amidst the epic orange and pink, the sky threatened to grow dark behind the looming, spinning ferris wheel.

Audrey left behind the painted faces and the smiles, the smell of sugar and the sound of shrieking laughter. Echoes of the excitement rang out behind her as she left it all behind. Her destination was beyond the fair, behind one of the big, red and white glossed storage trucks. Even in her killer new jumpsuit, Audrey had gone unnoticed.

One confident foot in front of the other, she squared her shoulders like the older girls do and kicked through that soft red dirt. Weaving between caravans, campers and trailers, restlessly brushing her hair back off of her shoulders and bringing it back in place.

A familiar whistled tune guided her where she intended to go.

Jake can usually be found whistling an Elvis tune.

His shirt slung over his shoulder, he passed between the lodgings coolly, headed to his camper to prepare for the show. Maybe he heard her coming, maybe he saw her feet under the caravans. By the time Audrey had rounded the corner, he had stopped and was staring at her.

He animated again, after a moment of static.

Jake was the star of the show, and to Audrey Weiss on that night in particular, he was just about the center of the universe. Tall, and gorgeous, with a strong jaw and a long, straight nose. Blond hair and golden skin, and green eyes. Muscles like something out of a comic book.

And despite being all of those things, Jake was nice, too.

“Hey, Aud-Ball.” Like odd-ball. But his way of teasing her wasn’t cruel like everyone else’s. He shot her a cool grin, his broad shoulders making his white tank stretch taught as he passed by her with no intention of stopping for a chat; again, in the kindest way. “You lost?”

This was far from their first conversation, but it was the first time she had gotten brave like this. There are signs all over the place saying staff quarters are off limits. She shouldn’t have been back there. She should have waited until after the show — Jake always came out to hang out front after the show was done, she could have found him then.

“No,” She wavered. A pit in her stomach and a lump in her throat, she looked down at the dirt and her glasses slipped a bit on the bridge of her nose. “I… wanted to see you.”

Jake can be real friendly. Too friendly, if you were to ask some of the folks around camp. Too friendly with ladies sometimes, too. That’s not what this was. When Audrey showed up for the second weekend, after Jake had complimented her glasses and told her she was funny — he had known she needed a friend. That’s all.

He played dumb.

“What for?” He stopped by the door of his trailer and took a moment to look at her. A slight heel to her sandals, a brand-new outfit, and magazine-worthy hair. He knew exactly what for.

She kicked and toed at the dirt, her eyes on the ground in a sheepish manner that tarnished all that work she had put into looking grown-up. “… I dunno.”

He looked behind her, and then around the two of them. The bustle of the fair sounded so far away. His grin settled into something friendly, but detached. The kind of look you get from a waiter when it comes time to decide on how much to tip.

“You lose your friends?” She never came alone. She had come with her parents that first weekend. She had looked so sad.

“No.” In her kicking and toeing at the ground, Audrey had wandered a bit closer to him. Close enough that he could smell her mother’s perfume on her neck, because she thought it was more mature than her own.

He took his shirt from his shoulder and wrung it in his hands, bootprints in the mud as he put some distance between the two of them. “Look, you know you’re not supposed to be back here. House rules.”

She looked up at him through those big glasses.

“Well, I mean—“

“Really. You should go.” He said more firmly. He was looking at her differently. The kindness in his eyes was gone and all that’s there was pity. In an instant, Audrey Weiss is crushed.

This wasn’t the first time she had been hurt by a boy. She had a tendency to read too much into things, to want things too much. There was a boy in ninth grade, he hadn’t ever liked her — she had convinced herself that he did. She had been so humiliated.

Jake watched her face crumple completely before him, and he was reminded of exactly what he saw in her that first weekend. A scared little girl with a heart full of sadness. He looked to the ground, feeling like he had knocked her to the dirt himself. She did look sweet in her new get-up.

“I’ll find you after the show.” Jake had offered.

Dejected, Audrey fiddled with the leg seam of her jumpsuit. She looked at the ground, and despite having no children, Jake got a glimpse at what it might look like if he had one to scold. She nodded her head weakly.

His lips twitched, his smile almost apologetic as he tapped at the side of his trailer and swung one foot in. “Alright.”

She presses her lips taut, staring at the indent she had toed into the dirt.

Jake hesitated by the door. He couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go, looking so sad. “Thanks for stoppin’ by— your hair looks killer, Audie.”

And so, Audrey had sulked back through the site and found her friends. With her being back so soon, and looking so cheesed — they hadn’t asked questions. They had bought her a coke, and taken their seats inside of the Big Top.

He said he would find her after, but to a girl like Audrey, that could mean a lot of things. Most of them were not good. As the lights dimmed and the familiar introductory drumbeat rattled out, Audrey just wanted to go home.

As he had five times before, the ringmaster burst out into the center of the area and threw his arms into the air, starting the evening with his usual speech. Audrey sipped sadly at her Coca-Cola from the stands. Jake comes on second for the first part of his act, right behind the ringmaster.

Audrey knew his routine like the back of her hand. Once again, she was not picked to be his assistant. As always, he was incredible.

At 9pm, the show had finished and the crowds were filing out. The fairground was even more abuzz than it had been earlier, the sky was a deep indigo, and Audrey really wasn’t in the mood to listen to Jake tell her that she just wasn’t his type. She wanted to be, so badly.

”I’ll pull the car around.” Stacy had told her saddened friend, already thinking that they could stop for milkshakes on the way home to cheer her up. Audrey had nodded absently, wondering where Jake had planned to find her.

“Come on, watch me hook a duck. I’ll win you something.” Suzie was Audrey’s best friend for a reason, after all. She looped her arm through Audrey’s and led her over to the attraction. She had just let go for a second, to take the pole from the attendant.

Audrey had just looked away for a moment. Well, maybe a few moments. It hadn’t felt like very long.

She stared across the sea of people, finding him in the spaces between. His eyes were settled right on hers, green and as kind as they always had been.

Standing over by the house of mirrors, Jake was wearing the same clothes he had been earlier, his shirt discarded over his right shoulder and his white tank stretched across his chest. He had gotten changed out of his show clothes quickly. Maybe he was excited to see her.

She bit at the inside of her cheek, nervous tingles making her fidget on her feet.

He straightened up, and cocked his head sharply to the side. The right side of his mouth tugged toward his ear like something was funny. He untucked his hand from his pocket, and pushed away from the support beam.

There was no goodbye, no ‘I’ll be back in a second’ — the plan was clear — Audrey hadn’t felt the need to waste time bringing her friends up to speed, that could be done in the morning. Light-footed, her brown sandals barely marked the soft dirt beneath her feet.

He had turned and reached for the door, watching her over his shoulder. Her eyes scanned across the neon red signage above him as he disappeared into the Hall of Mirrors. The door fell shut behind him.

Audrey’s heartbeat hammered like a snare drum. Her entire nervous system could keep easy pace with a Lynyrd Skynyrd record. Her dad loved those guys.

The sky darkened behind her, the metal handle cold under her palm as she opened up the door. She leaned inside, and peered around, half-way inside. “Jake?”

The halls between all the mirrors had to be lit somehow, and someone chose blood-red bulbs. Darkness in the corners of the reflections, red illuminations right through the center. Audrey took one sure-footed step inside, her mouth twitching toward a nervous smile.

She let go of her breath and smiled. Sticking her fingers out, she touched her own reflection right in front of her. Filtered red, she looked so different. Her hair really did look killer. Her glasses hadn’t ever looked that awful. She trailed her hand softly along the glass as a marker, following the whistle tune.

Butterflies tickled her tummy. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and let the door fall shut behind her, her second step less-certain. “Jake, are you in here?”

Of course he was, she had just seen him walk right in. To banish her doubts further, a whistle rings out from deeper within the maze. Unmistakably the first eight notes of Elvis’ I’ll Never Fall in Love Again — the song Audrey listened to in her bedroom when she thought of him. How incredible, that he had picked that song.

She bit at her bottom lip to keep from smiling, and called out one last time. “Jake?”

NEXT CHAPTER

TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT

tags: @sunflowercharlie13 @spinning-away @eloquentdreamer @a-reader-and-a-writer @breezyweazybeezy @mel119g @blaircharlotte @hersuitisbanana @aragorn-02 @one-sweet-gubler @chrysalismuh @xzyzycxdd @atarmychick007 @ximehs @ah9242 @gleefulleve @nnatel @topherwrites @princesskreator @seitmai @d0main-expansion @yepyeahuhhuh @cherrycola27 @ohtobeleah @roosterbruiser

[queenofthedisneyverse]

When will my life begin - Chapter 1; El camaleón desaparecido au

Words; 3k

Chapter 2

Camilo POV

I shot up in a cold sweat, panting and looking around with wide eyes. That dream happened again…sigh. I can never seem to get a break from it. And it’s always the same old thing. People are chasing me with weapons…

I take a deep breath and shake my head. Get over it Milo, you have chores to do! So, at a quick pace I get out of bed and stretch my back and arms. A good night's sleep to say the least.  My feet meet the soft and fluffy chameleon slippers mi hermana made for me and I smile softly at the texture. 

7 A.M the usual morning lineup!

Behind me, a little yawn could be heard. I turn around and see my pet Chameleon Pepi perched up on my pillow. Her green eyes meet mine and I smile wider. 

“Hola Pepi! Did you sleep well?” I softly pet her small head and pick her up. 

She nodded and stretched as well. 

“Good, now let’s get ready for the day” I say cheerfully as I sit her down on top of my dresser and rummage through the drawers. I pick up shirt after shirt, all of which I’ve worn already. Sigh, guess I’ll have to borrow my sister's old ones again or make more. 

No matter, I know which shirt to go with. In the very bottom drawer, I pull out a multicolored shirt. All the colors of the rainbow. Red, orange, yellow, teal, navy blue, tiffany blue, light purple, dark purple, and magenta. 

I don’t know why I like these colors specifically…they just feel so familiar. And not in a ‘these are just colors of the rainbow’ sort of way. In a way that…I don’t know how to describe it…they just feel familiar. 

Any who, I put the shirt on and straighten it out. I smile lightly and search for some pants and my pink rauna. After that’s all done I look at myself in the mirror and twirl. I can’t look at it for too long though…this damn scar. 

I’ve always had it. From the top of my scalp, down my eyebrow to eye, to the bottom of my jaw. My mamá said she found me with it at the bottom of a river….that’s when she took me in of course. 

I can’t stand it. It makes me ugly…or at least…that’s what Marcela says. And she’s not wrong, it’s hideous. Not to mention I’m partially blind because of it. I hate it! And Marci or Mama won’t even let me use makeup to cover it up. 

Emilia doesn’t use any so she doesn’t even have some I can borrow…not that I ask her to buy any for me either. 

Any who! I snap myself out of it and search for my sandals. Once I find them under the bed I grab them and put them on. As comfortable as ever…but I may need to tweak them, they feel small. 

I felt like something was missing, though I couldn’t remember what. I scratch my head and feel the curls under my fingers.I look around  Oh that’s right, my headscarf! I search through the third bottom drawer and find it, soon tying it around my hair. 

Pepi squeaks for my attention, her gaze a little angry. I guess I did just leave her there. I chuckle and pick her up, putting her on my right shoulder. 

“You know, any chameleon would’ve gotten themselves down from that spot right?”

Pepi shot an unamused glare at me and I quietly chuckled. “ aw what? did I hit a nerve- OW!” Pepi smacked my ear with her tail. “Sorry! Jeez…so sensitive” 

I walked toward my bedroom door and turned the handle. Time to start the day! 

-

Start on the chores. And sweep till the floors are all clean!

Camilo scrubbed the pink stairs thoroughly. This was one of his many chores he had during the day, but thankfully he had someone to help. His older sister, Emilia, always helped him. If he had to sweep the floors, so would she. If he was tasked to cook dinner, she would help him prepare it. 

She, as well as his mother and other sister, have been there since he could remember. Emi taught him how to sew, how to cook, read, math, just anything she could seeing as he wasn’t allowed out past the mansion gates.

“Hey emi?”

Emilia looked at her adoptive hermanito. Her dark skin and brown eyes shining under the morning sun shining through. Her fluffy curly hair tied back as she sat on the stairs with a broom in her hands. 

“Si milo?” she smiled lightly. Her voice was always soft and welcoming when he was around. 

“Do you have any old shirts for me to borrow? All of the ones I have are old” Camilo pouted and furrowed his brows as she scrubbed. A certain stain wouldn't go away.

“I’ll see what I have. But don’t you dare think I don’t know it was you who ate the last bunuelos from yesterday you little sneak! I wanted those…” Emilia put her hand on her hip as she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You snooze, you lose sis!” Camilo chuckled, “and from what I remember. I made those bunuelos, so I have a right to eat them.”

(This is an art trade from @gamerbearmira. It fit the scene so well I had to include it)

“I helped!” Emilia playfully shoved him, causing Milo to laugh. “And there were five of them left, you couldn’t leave at least two?”

“It’s called sleep eating! A very serious and sad condition Emi, how could you not understand what I have to go through?” Camilo said dramatically, putting her hand on her forehead as she leaned back.

“You are so dramatic”

“And don’t you forget it!”

Emilia smirked at him, like a malicious cat “...your on laundry duty by the way”

“Noooo-”

Polish and wax. Do laundry. And mop and shine up!

During tedious chores like these, Emi found a way to make things fun. For instance, when it came to mopping the floors. She and Milo would put scrubbing brushes (with soap on them)  on their feet and twirl around with a mop. They even made it a game of sorts. 

“Emilia is far behind the lucky Chameleon, seems like someone is going to be eating some bubbles” Camilo teased as he sped past her. Cleaning the floor as he did so. Pepi stuck her tongue out at Emi as she was perched on Milo’s shoulder. 

“Oh that’s what you think!”

In the blink of an eye, Emilia somehow gained speed. To be a light tease, she spun around Camilo on one foot. Her leg high up as she looked elegant and graceful. While he was stunned she took the chance to grab Pepi, put her on her shoulder, and push Camilo to the floor. 

“HEY! That’s cheating!”

“Come on Milo, don’t be a sore loser!” she yelled out as she skated through the blindingly pink house. 

La casa Baltazar is a very large mansion, somewhat like a mini castle even. What made it stand out?...all the various shades of pink. Their mother, Gabriella, LOVED the color pink in all of its shades. 

That’s why Camilo’s rauna is various shades of pink. It’s a way to appease her and make her happy. He tried to wear other colors…it didn’t go so well. That’s why Camilo wears the other familiar colors, under his rauna. 

Emilia can’t stand the colors but wears them to make her mother happy. Marcela however, loves it just as much as her mother does. Will wear it any chance she gets…which is everyday…like her mother. 

As the child slowly got off the floor, slipping many times in the process, he managed to catch up to her. But she was already to the finish line. In other words the kitchen. 

“You lose! You owe me YOUR desert for the next week” Emilia laughed heartily

Camilo stuck his tongue out at her and took Pepi back. He eyed Pepi and she just gave him a smug smile. “You're a traitor, you know that? You could’ve at least put your tongue in her ear. Like you ALWAYS do to me whenever I wake a second past seven”

“Oh don’t be mad because she likes me more than you!” Emilia giggled as she sat down at the kitchen table and took the scrub brushes off her feet. 

Pepi decided to be petty and stuck her tongue in her ear. She knew he hated it, that’s why she did it. The small creature could only do so much with her body so she had to have her fun in some way. 

“AGH, PEPI!”

Sweep again and by then it’s like 7:15! 

8:56 struck on the clock and so far seven chores have been accomplished. There’s more but it’s still an accomplishment. Now it was time to make breakfast. Something simple and fast of course. Their mother or sister didn’t make any requests, so they just chose anything.

“How about changua?” Camilo asked with bright eyes. It’s his favorite and easy to make. 

“Meh, sure,” Emi shrugged. Who was she to deny him his favorite thing in the world? And it’s not like he asked for it all the time. 

Changua is a typical breakfast in Bogotá, the capital of Colombia. It's a soup made with milk, scallions, bread, cilantro and eggs. Together, Emilia and Camilo did their own tasks to make the meal be done quicker…even though the dish itself barely took six minutes. 

Emi Placed the milk and water in a medium pot and brought it to a boil. Cami added the onion, salt and pepper and let it cook for three minutes. Emi reduced the heat to medium and added the eggs without breaking them.

After the eggs cooked for three minutes, and both siblings were done chopping up cilantro and scallions, added the ingredients in. 

Some familiar mice crawled from under the bottom drawers and approached Camilo with squeaks. One had a small shirt with a teal blue s and the other had a red bow on its tail. Lolo and Mira! The two little mice Camilo liked dressing up. Milo smiled and took a bread slice from the bread box, broke it apart and handed it to them.

Pepi glared at the two mice. She only liked it when Camilo was paying attention to her. 

“Hey girls! It’s funny you two always show up when it’s food time.” Camilo chuckled as he watched the two scamper off with the bread slices. 

Emi rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Hey, Dr. Doolittle! Help me set the table” 

Camilo did just that and made some black coffee for his mama. He knows how irritated she can be in the morning. By the time Emilia finished pouring soup in the fourth bowl Gabriella and Marcela walked into the kitchen looking as elegant and snobby as ever. 

“Morning mama,” Camilo and Emilia said. Though Camilo sounded a little more chipper than her. 

“Where’s my coffee?” Gabriella said, pinching her nose bridge. Camilo quickly came up to her and gave her the coffee.

“Here you go mama. All black with a little sugar, just how you like it”

Gabriella gave milo a sickeningly fake smile as she took the coffee from him. Oh how she hated him…she hated that he belonged to a family that inherited magic...but decided to never show it. Camilo was a people pleaser by nature and Gabiella knew it. That was the only reason why she was “nice” to him.

She always gives him reasons to please her and if certain needs weren’t met, she would pull crocodile tears to make him do it right. Or just fake being upset. It always works. Gabriela would remain on an in-between spectrum of “I’m not disappointed but I’m not proud either” when it came to him. 

“Thank you mijo” she patted his head and quickly shut the smile off. Fully knowing Camilo felt like he did something wrong because of it. 

“Are we seriously having changua for breakfast?” Marcela scowled as she pushed the bowl away from her.

“Yeah, what of it?” Emi shot her a glare, Marcea shot a glare back. 

“Now now ninas, no need for that. I’m sure that Camilo or Emilia can make something else for you" Gabriella said with a voice as sweet as honey. She knew good on well what she was doing.

Emi's widened, "Say what now?!"

Camilo's smile almost dropped but he held it together "I- I guess so. What would you like marci-"

"I would like something else as well" Gabriella added

"Oh well...alright. What would you both like"

He is seriously not about to fall for this, Emi thought.

"I want Huevos Pericos" Marcela said proudly, "And don't burn the eggs!"

" Caldo de Costilla for me," Gabrilla said as she sipped her coffee. 

"Are they serious?! Huevos pericos is easy but Caldo de Costilla takes about 40 minutes to an hour to make. And both these pendeja's know we've been doing nothing but chores all morning" Emilia thought.

Camilo's hands clenched into a fist but he kept a smile, "No problema mama y hermana, right away!" 

oh hell no

"NO!" Emilia shouted. Earning a look of confusion from all three of her "family" members. She cleared her throat and straightened her posture, "I mean, I'll do it! Camilo, you have to go feed the animals anyway"

"Oh but Emi, don't you remember? You have a date with Carlos Santiago today, can't have you being late can we?" Gabriella announced. Her sinister smile was evident as she drank her coffee. 

"oh...right" Emilia's whole body deflated as she sat down in her chair. Carlos was a reminder she had NO control over her life...great. 

"You go meet him, he should be her in-" Gabriela looked at the clock on the wall. It was 9:25 "About five minutes" 

Camilo saw her deflation and put his hand on her shoulder, "It's okay, you can go. I got this!"

When will my life begin?

After all Camilo was done making a second breakfast, he was told to give the Changua to the pigs. Guess he won't be having that for later. Speaking of farm animals, this was his eighth chore. Feed the chickens/take the eggs, pigs, horses, and lastly the donkeys. The stables and coop was on the farther left end of the mansion, a little behind it. 

He always went to the chickens first, paying a visit to his favorite and wildest hen, Isa. She never liked her coop/flock and would always follow Camilo around. And because of that, she became one of his few animal friends. Much to Pepi's dismay. The other chickens liked him too, just not as much,

The young boy walked up to the coop and opened the small door, "alright come on out girls!"

Of course, Isa was out first. She had been waiting for him all morning. Isa honestly hated that coop...and the other hens. 

Camilo laughed heartily as the hen clucked and squawked around him. Colorful powder still decorated her feathers from her and Milo's "adventure" from last week. 

"Hey Isa, you miss me"

"Bawk!"

"Yeah, yeah I know" Camilo knelt down and hugged the hen, soon releasing her and standing back up. As always during these times, he reached his hand into the bucket and sprinkled chicken feed all over the ground. Of course the chickens scrambled over  and started pecking the ground. 

Once that was done he took a basket from the right side of the coop and crawled inside. There were a few eggs in a couple nests, surely enough to last a week or two if needed. One by one, he put eggs in the basket and came out once all of them were collected. 

Ninth task...completed. 

After that was done he went to the horse and Donkey stable. Both animals shared the same space. He knew the drill. Grab a hay bale and get to work. Hay bale here, hay bale there. Why does Gabriella have three of each? Mostly for animal renting services or just in case they need to go somewhere far. 

Three horses and three mules to feed. All six animals were fond of him but there was only one mule he clung to. 

Lulu or Lu, the donkey. He gave her the name of course. He's not sure why he did, the name just came up once she saw her as a foal. Not to mention the name is familiar to him. She was the last one he got to.

"Sorry Lulu, here you go." He walked into her area and sat a hay bale down. She squealed in delight and trot right over to it. This made Milo smile and pet her snout.  

While doing so, a blue monarch butterfly fluttered into the stable and sat itself on Camilo's nose. He was stunned for a second but was a little happy. When do you ever get the chance of a butterfly sitting on your nose?

He stood still and...remembered something.  A memory...something warm. Comforting and...happy?...the memory was from his perspective. He was younger and coloring on a piece of paper on the floor. A girl was sitting across from him doing the same thing. He couldn't see her face but could see what she was drawing.

 On the paper was a drawing of a blue butterfly. The girl took the paper and held it up in front of her face. This memory was clear as day but also had a dream feel to it. The butterfly was teal blue with yellow spots, similar to a monarch butterfly but different. His heart felt warm...did he know this girl?

In the blink of an eye the memory faded and the butterfly on his nose fluttered away. He stood there in shock. He had a memory! But...from such a long time ago. He surely knew her but didn't know from where. She also felt like...family! Camilo hated this. Whenever Camilo remembered something from his past, the memories were clear but oh so blurry. To take the frustration out on something, he blames his right eye. 

But the beautiful creature left something else in his mind. "The Shining Butterfly Migration". It happens every year on his birthday, December 28th. It's so strange yet amazing! Surely it must be for him. The Yellow butterflies swirl around in the sky all night, creating all types of beautiful imagery. No one knows where it comes from...but him. Well...sort of, it's more of a tingling kind of feeling. 

He needs to see them up close. From the direct spot they come from. It's been a huge need for him to see it in person ever since he was a kid. It was about to be his sixteenth birthday in three weeks and four or five days, maybe...just maybe. His mama will allow him outside to see it. 

With a look of determination, he decided to be quick with his chores. He ran out of the stable and grabbed the bucket of cold Changua and ran over to the pig stable. He whistled out for them to come and five little pigs waddled up to him. Camilo smiled and poured the Changua in the trough. 

"Hope you guys like this!"

Without a second thought, Camilo dropped the bucket and ran off to the back door of the mansion. Then he had to run back because he forgot the basket of eggs. He got the eggs and then ran back to the door again. Once he opened it, he saw Marcela standing there with a bucket of paint. 

"You like to paint don't you?" Marcela said in a bitter, jealous tone. 

"wha-"

!SPLAT!

....Camilo was now covered in red paint from top to bottom. And that was new paint...paint that Emi got for him. Before he could say anything Marcela cackled like a witch and ran off. Thank goodness his hands were spared so he could wipe the paint off his face. 

The most he could do was just breathe and walk inside without slipping. His destination was the kitchen. To wash the eggs off in the sink and put them in the ice box. He would clean himself up and the mess later. Marcela was nowhere to be seen but do you know who he ran into? 

Cami was about to turn a corner. Just  a few feet away from his destination when he was met with-

"Camilo! What on earth are you doing?!" Gabriella looked truly appalled and a little angered at the sight. 

"I-" 

"My marble floors! How dare you walk on them with this mess?!"

Oh no, this was bad, very bad. The last thing he wanted was his mother mad at him. She was barely proud of him as it is. 

"It wasn't me mama! It- It was Marcela! she poured paint on me and ran off" Camilo's eyes were wide with fear. He prayed to God she would believe him. 

Gabriella's eyes widened more and her fury was about to bubble over. "You dare accuse my daughter of such a thing?!"

It's a quiet rule among Camilo and Emi, never mess with Marcela and don't accuse her of anything. Even if it was her fault...which is 99 percent of the time. 

Camilo quickly thought of a way to save himself "It's a prank war! We've been pranking each other here and there. A prank war!..and, she got me this time!" the young boy smiled nervously, truly hoping she believed him. 

Gabriella narrowed her eyes at him. Searching for any sort of lie. There was nothing she could see that seemed like a lie. He looked too panicked and she knew he knew better than to lie to her.

"Hmph! Well, I would like for you both to call this prank war OFF immediately." The older woman spat out. "And clean yourself up!" 

she stared down at him with disgust. And Camilo hated that, he wanted to make her proud...not this. "Si mama"

Gabriella stepped away from him but before she could walk away further, Camilo stopped her. "Mama, wait!"

She turned to look at him, her scowl prominent. "Que?"

"M- Mama, I- I um...I- I just wanted-"

"Oh enough with the stuttering and mumbling, spit it out!"

"...I want to see the mourning butterflies!" Camilo regretted those words as quickly as they came out. 

"oh...do you know?" Gabriella crossed her arms and held her head up high.

Camilo gulped, "Yes. They appear every year on my birthday and...I would like to see them...just this once. I won't ask again, I swear just...please mama. I'll do anything!" 

Gabriella thought about it. Those butterflies happened in the very place she wants him to stay away from...why would she let him leave again?

"Anything?"

"Anything!"

"Hmmm, alright. On one condition. You will do your chores as told BUT...with no help from your sister. You will cook breakfast, lunch, AND dinner for the next three weeks. As well as making your own outfit so you can at least look presentable outside." Gabriella smirked as she stared down at him, waiting for his response. 

This...this was happening?! This is really happening! She's letting him go out! 

"Of course mama! I'll do it! Thank you, thank you so much" He was so excited and grateful. Milo was about to hug her but she stopped him before he could with a single hand raise. He backed away but still thanked her, "thank you mama, I'll clean everything up."

 "And remember, the place you want to go to is a week long trip. You better pack for that as well" 

Ok, so that meant he had two weeks to get all of those chores done, and a week of traveling. That’s fine, he can work with that. 

Camilo's eyes held genuine joy and happiness "I- I will, thank you. I love you mama"

Such a gullible creature he is

"I love you most"

When will my life begin? 

Family designs

Au inspired by @/midcanto

Comments, re-blogs, and likes are appreciated. Feel free to ask questions as well or send in ideas!

[gt-blendergod]

Chapter 1: Ritz has a collection

Ritz, a quiet teenager who keeps to herself, has a collection of dead things. She keeps different animal skulls on her shelves rather than books and lava lamps. Rather than anime and boy band posters hanging on her walls, butterfly wings and preserved animal parts take their place. Ritz lives in a large house. Her rich parents often leave her alone to her own devices. Some people believe they’re too afraid of her to stay there. When Ritz was younger, she was ten times worse. She was the type of kid who would kill ants and rats for fun. However, she no longer has the tendencies of a psychopath. She doesn’t kill butterflies or carve away the flesh of animals to harvest their skulls. She’s a collector. She uses her parent’s wealth to buy these authentic things. That’s what Ritz knows, and what her peers are too afraid to admit. She is normal.

Or, she was normal. Normal until she became a mother… of sorts.

At first, she thought she was hallucinating. She’d locked herself in her room for a few days and wasn’t surprised when she thought she saw something stealing a pencil from off her desk. Maybe she had rats, maybe she was imagining it, or maybe there was a little tiny person in her walls. Either way, it was nothing to worry about. However, she started noticing even more. A skull on the shelf, shifted ever so slightly ajar. A missing screw in the power outlet, a slightly open drawer here and there. She thought her house was haunted. Curious more than anything, Ritz decided to catch it in the action. It was dumb luck that she did. She had bought a small camera and hid it on her desk behind an unassuming picture frame. That night, emerging from the outlet in the wall above her desk, a little person appeared. They dropped down onto the wooden desk, careful not to make a sound. They had short hair and big eyes, but the video quality was too dark and grainy to make out any details or colors. After searching the desk, they ended up taking yet another pencil from Ritz’s abundant stash before going back into the outlet and shutting it tight.

When Ritz went to check the cameras in the morning, she was shocked, but humored as well. For all she knew, the one and only Thumbelina was taking residence… and taking resources, in her own home. Ritz decided to do no further inspection and put the camera back in order to record the next night. Ritz decided to plug in her laptop on her desk today using the power outlet which the tiny person had moved in order to get onto her desk. She also left her leftover snacks in a bowl right on the front edge of the desk, nearly about to topple over before she went to bed. She was sure the little thief would be fine.

She was wrong. Very, very wrong.

The camera caught everything. The little thief emerged from atop Ritz’s dresser, descending down her drawers, only to appear on the desk after a presumably long time climbing. The little thief took yet another pencil and investigated the bowl. They furrowed their brow in confusion before realizing that Ritz had left food inside. Not being tall enough to reach inside the bowl, they started climbing inside. As this happened, the bowl fell off of the desk, landing upside down on the carpeted floor.

Ritz woke up the next morning and didn’t even notice the bowl on the floor, nor the tiny unmoving leg sticking out from under it. She was hyper focused on checking the camera. Since she was oblivious to the bowl, she instantly tripped over it and hit the desk and chair on her way down. She then landed on the floor in a weird messed up position. What an oddly graceful fall. She sat up and rubbed her head a bit before turning and looking at what she’d tripped on. The bowl was now overturned, revealing the tiny person and uneaten snacks on the ground in broad daylight. Getting a closer look at them, Ritz covered her mouth. They were so small… a kid. Maybe not even ten years old. Unconscious and most likely injured on the ground. What was she supposed to do about this?

First, she cleaned up the bowl and snacks, leaving the small person alone for a bit, hoping they would wake up on their own. When they didn’t and Ritz was done, she begrudgingly relented, carefully picking them up, cupping the tiny body in her hands. She could feel them breathing. Shaking. They were strangely cold in Ritz’s warm hands. She carefully lowered them onto the desk. She sighed. This was her fault, wasn’t it? What could she possibly do to fix it?

—~~~—

The little girl, or at least, that’s all she remembers being called, is cursed. She remembers being a normal person, though she hasn’t been around long enough to remember much. How old is she? How old was she when she became like this? These people aren’t giants. She at least remembers that. The man and woman used to be the same size as her. It’s all fuzzy. She tried to recall their names, but never could. When she ran away, she saw pictures of them. Pictures of them with a little girl. It wasn’t her, but when she was traveling around the house, she found the little girl in the picture. She was older now. Some eavesdropping and the little girl discovered that the daughter’s name was Ritz. Ritz is terrifying. When the little girl first saw her room, she knew she’d be in danger if she was ever caught by Ritz. If she was ever caught by any of them. She decided she would build a shelter of her own in the house. Food would be extremely difficult to find, but materials would be easy enough, right? She tried. It was a month of thievery before the incident occurred.

When she finally woke up, she was confused. She was laying down, curled up on a warm wet towel. It was nice, she didn’t feel like she wanted to move. Everything felt hurt. Especially her legs. She couldn’t move them if she tried. What was wrong with them? Her torso hurt too… However, she couldn’t focus on the pain. She finally noticed the huge eyes staring at her. She felt sick. How could she let this happen? Was she that desperate for food that she fell straight into Ritz’s trap? Seeing Ritz’s… collection before… of course she would do this. Ritz had probably known about the little girl this whole time. She was just pretending not to know… to torment her, wasn’t she?? She wouldn’t speak. She couldn’t come up with anything to say even if she wanted to. She just buried her head into the towel, but even moving it was painful. How was she even alive? Her fall must have been broken by the soft carpet or something. She just wanted the pain to end. She practically begged in her mind for Ritz to just put her out of her misery. She knew it would happen eventually. That girl… was obsessed with death. She could tell. She didn’t know where the girl got her collection from, but she knew it couldn’t be good. At some point, while the little girl was still hiding her face, she felt Ritz looming over her as if she was about to do something.

“Sorry…” Ritz said as she suddenly grabbed the towel with the little girl on it, “I just need to make the towel warm again.. I don’t want to disturb you.”

The little girl was separated from the towel and gently placed back on the desk. She was alone, but still couldn’t move. Still defenseless and alone. Why was Ritz doing this? What was Ritz doing? The little girl finally looked down at her own legs. They had cuts of bandaids on them. Ritz was trying to fix her. Why? Ritz returned.

“Phew,” she sighed, “I was worried that you’d leave… now that you’re awake. But.. you haven’t even moved a muscle. Haha…”

Before coming to the desk, Ritz sat down on her bed. She held onto the bed’s railing and sighed. She seemed very upset.

“I really messed up this time. I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean for anything to happen to you. I was just trying to help, but I wasn’t careful enough,” she looked up at the little girl on the desk, who was looking back with a nearly emotionless stare, “are you okay?”

After a long moment of silence, the little girl finally spoke.

“Why are you being… so nice to me..?” She asked, her voice almost too quiet to hear, “I’m not… I-“

She was interrupted by a cough, not saying anything else. Ritz was happy that the person could talk and knew english. Who was this person, anyways? What happened to them? Ritz got up from the bed and carefully placed the little girl on top of the folded wet towel again. Ritz sat at her desk chair and rested her head on the desk. It was a lot of waiting and staring for both of them. Eventually, they both fell asleep.

When the little girl woke up, Ritz was gone. The towel was gone. She was extremely nervous to be all alone. Ritz came back, but the towel was still gone. She sat at her desk chair again and leaned back.

“So.. you’re awake. Would you mind if I ask some questions? We don’t have any more towels… and you can just nod yes or no.. if you need to.”

The little girl nodded. Ritz smiled a bit and leaned forward resting her head on her elbows. It was slightly more threatening, but the little girl didn’t want to say anything about it.

“So, do you have a name?”

She shook her head No.

“Are you human?”

There was a bit of hesitation before she nodded yes.

“Were you always small?”

No

“Do you know why you’re small? Did someone do this to you?”

A nod yes. She decided to explain a bit more as well.

“The man and woman… and I ran away.. in the pictures with you.”

Ritz was silent. She stared up at the wall for a moment. Why didn’t it surprise her that her parents would do something like this? The question is… why did they do it in the first place?”

“Do you know who I am?”

“You’re Ritz… and you’re really… really…” The little girl lost her train of thought.

Ritz was curious. She didn’t want to push, but decided not to ask another question until the little girl finished. She stared at the little girl and shifted her position. She was slightly surprised to see the little girl flinch at the slightest movement of Ritz’s hand. Ritz knew what she was going to say now.

“Oh… I’m sorry,” Ritz said, slightly dejected, “I’m… terrifying to you, aren’t I?”

The little girl nodded slowly before bursting into tears. All Ritz wanted was to give her a hug. Instead, she tried to calm her down, running her hand down the little girl’s back.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay. I understand. I’m the spawn of the people who hurt you, I hurt you, I’m basically holding you captive, my room is filled with… upsetting decorations, I get it.”

The little girl turned her head away, frustrated. Ritz pulled her hand back, it clearly wasn’t helping.

“I promise I’m not going to hurt you anymore. I promise my parents will never find you…” she said, trying to reassure the little girl, “And I promise I’ll help you get better.. well maybe not about the small thing. I don’t think I can do that. Haha…”

The little girl sniffed and rubbed her face to get the sadness out. Ritz seemed… very genuine, but the little girl really didn’t want to trust her.

“Okay so… your name. You need one. Is there anything you’d like to be called?

She shook her head no, “you can name me… I don’t.. have any ideas.”

Ritz thought for a minute, looking around the room for some ideas.

“Names for a… little… science experiment… who I rescued,”

Ritz made the cliche game theorists' thinking face. She soun around in her chair.

“Okay, I think I got it,” she said, “I’m gonna… use a futuristic name generator online.”

She reached past the little girl and opened her computer. The little girl, now more mobile and able to move, turned away from Ritz and looked at the computer screen which was more like the screen of a movie theater to her. Ritz looked up a generator and started generating.

“Wow,” Ritz said, laughing, “these names are terrible. How would you like to be called Abigael? With an A E.”

The little girl chuckled a bit.

“This is… bad. Not a good name. No,” she said, “I would rather… be called a dry leaf.”

“Dry leaf, hm? That gives me an idea,” Ritz said as she looked for some cute tree names online, she laughed, “How does Baobab sound?”

“I refuse to be called Baobab.”

“Okay then, how about… Cassia. It produces a spice similar to cinnamon. Cinnamon… like your hair?”

“Cassia sounds like Cassy and that name just sounds wrong. Lemme see.”

She limped over to the laptop and put her hands on the mouse pad, scrolling further down the list. Ritz intervened when they reached the Ms.

“I keep thinking back to Maple.”

“Too average. Maple leaves are big anyways.”

“Ok well let’s go back. How about Hazel.”

“…It’s not the worst. Better than all the others.”

“Okay then, nice to meet you, Hazel.”

Hazel turned around to face Ritz again. She still seemed very nervous. She literally couldn’t look her directly in the eyes. She looked down.

“I don’t… I just don’t get it..”

“Get what?”

“Why are you so different.. from them? They never ever talked to me. They hurt me.”

“…” Ritz thought for a moment, “it’s almost as if you want me to be an evil monster.”

[happilydistinguishedbanana]

Fallen Pt. 1: Questions

Authors note: Ahhh I’m so excited for this!! This is a alternate reality where the reader wakes up in the Star Wars universe!! I have been wanting to do this for a while, but I have not been the first. I would like to credit Eagleness and Talita01 on AO3 for the idea. If there is anyone else who has done the same, please let me know! This is also pre-Echo era, but he will appear later. Also please let me know if I should choose just a single batcher for the reader to be with or all of them!

Warnings: Blood, vomiting

Summary: One day I’m watching my favorite show in my college dorm room. The next morning I wake up in a hospital with no idea how I got there and two Jedi who are just as confused as myself.

Word count: 2458

Relationship: Undecided Batcher(s) x Female Reader

Part 2

As much as I loved bar hopping with my friends and drinking until I can’t tell the difference between left and right, I hate waking up the next morning with a hangover and a 2,000 word essay due for my college midterm.

“Come on, Sweetie.” My friend Corey moaned, her arm grasping my own with a vice like grip. “Just a few drinks and then we’ll take you home.”

I rolled my eyes. The last time they promised that, I got home after 4:00 am and missed two of my morning classes. Although it didn’t make much of a difference then, I couldn’t afford it this time. “No, I’m not going.”

“What a buzzkill.” One of Corey’s friends whispered to her obnoxious boyfriend. I never liked her and her long nails and her fried hair that she straightened far too often. Her voice sounded like metal scratching on metal and I had no idea how she managed to become friends with someone as nice as Corey. But maybe Corey was the desperate one.

“I’m sorry Corey.” I whispered. “I can’t go tonight, I have stuff due tomorrow.”

She frowned, but dropped my arm and shuffled over to her other friends. She looked back and forth between me and my dorm room's door. “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, her fingers lightly gripping the doorknob. They trembled.

“Corey-”

“Let’s go.” Her friend whined, coddling up to her boyfriend as if she would die if she stood there any longer. I don’t think he minded though seeing as he groped her in the ass. “This new bar opened up, right by that good Chinese place. I’m staaarving.”

“Yeah, come on Corey.” The boyfriend jumped in. “We’re wasting time sitting around here.”

“Leave her, girl.” The girl clicked her tongue impatiently. Sometimes I wonder how Corey got dragged into being friends with people like that. They’re nothing special, and even she doesn’t seem to like them. Maybe I’m delusional.

“Alright.” Corey nodded, giving me one last look before opening the door and leaving with her lackluster friends. I couldn’t help but notice the unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

I pulled out my phone quickly to send her a text, but my battery was dead. Stumbling through my dorm, I frantically searched for a charger. Under the bed, in the dresser, on my nightstand, even inside the mini fridge, but it was like it vanished.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I ran my hands through my hair. If I couldn’t find my cord, I wouldn’t be able to text Corey, and if her friends are as bad as they seem, they might leave her to find a way back to the dorms. What if she needed a ride? What if something happens? What if she just needs a friend to talk to?

I tapped my foot nervously before deciding that slumping down in my bed and pulling out my computer would be my best course of action. Maybe finishing my essay would distract me enough.

I scroll through what I had written, rereading paragraph after paragraph only to find that everything was finished and edited. All I would need to do was print the damn thing and submit it tomorrow morning. I could have gone out with Corey after all.

But it was too late to do anything about it now. My hands moved to open a new tab and click onto the familiar bookmark that I kept close to my heart. The website started up and I eagerly opened my favorite pastime of my college years. The Bad Batch.

I had watched the infamous Star Wars saga when I was young, usually with a bowl of popcorn and my favorite drink to go with. My father watched the first ever movie when he was just a child in 1977 and after he had kids of his own, he wanted them to experience the same joy he had felt. It stuck with me and I continued to watch any show related to it since.

But the Bad Batch was something I had gotten into a little later than everyone else. Both seasons were released when I started watching it and after several long months, today was the day I was going to finish it. It would have been exciting if I didn’t already know what happened. Spoilers still reached my ears no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.

“Plan 99.” Tech said through the screen, my own lips quoting every word. I watched him fall to his death and despite knowing he was going to die, I still felt sad. But I did not cry, I hardly ever cried when I was sad and this certainly was not an exception. And maybe a part of that was influenced because Tech’s death just didn’t feel solid. It felt fake. It didn’t feel as real as when Echo “died” or when Gregor “died.” Something was missing from the equation.

My eyes started to droop by the time I finished the final episode. I checked the clock to see it was past 12:00. Corey wasn’t home, she wouldn’t be at this time. I tried to stay up to wait for her, to make sure she came back all in one piece. But the draw of sleep was just too hard to resist. I fell into a fitful rest.

***************

I did not share a room with anyone, so when I drifted awake, I laid rigidly when I heard several voices just outside the door. Several male voices though they sounded strangely familiar.

When I opened my eyes, I became even more confused. This was not my room. Bright lights were shining on me as if I was some test subject. There were medical monitors and white walls and the stale smell of medicine and disinfectant.

A hospital. I was in a hospital.

I sat up and took in my surroundings even more. I wore a medical gown, there were no handles on the doors, the male voices outside were still there, a… droid was sifting through a drawer on the opposite side of the room?

My breath caught in my throat. A part of me knew that I was not in any danger, but seeing a hunk of metal the size of a grown man, pulling out needles and bottles out of a drawer did nothing to calm my nerves. I certainly did not feel any better when he? It? Turned to me and started speaking in a language I did not know.

“Wait!” I jumped out of the cot when it tried to grab me by the arm. I stumbled back into some of the equipment, glass and metal and wires crashing into the floor with me. The droid skittered around still speaking gibberish as if it became flustered and confused.

I whipped my head around when the door slid open. I audibly gasped when none other than Mace Windu and Obi Wan Kenobi stepped through the door, their lightsabers in their hands like second nature, ready for use.

They were on alert until they saw me on the floor. They sheathed their sabers and gave each other a look I couldn’t read.

Windu went to calm down the droid while Obi Wan headed over to me. He was speaking to me, saying words I’m sure anyone else could understand. I stared at him blankly and suddenly he stopped, turned, said a few words to Windu, and then pulled me up by the shoulder and placed me back on the cot. He then ushered the droid out of the room leaving Windu and I alone.

I could feel pain in my shoulder, and I reached back with my hand to find out why. It came back bloody. I shivered before rushing over to the sink at the other end of the room and vomited. I felt a warm hand on my back and mumbled words which I knew were words or reassurance. But I still couldn’t understand anything.

Windu started to dress my wound, though it was done rather poorly. He said nothing more to me, and it gave me a moment to think.

I’ve seen stuff similar to this in movies and T.V shows.Young boys traveling to the past, superheroes ending up in alternate universes, people using telephone booths as a time machine, I’ve even had dreams about similar concepts. But this certainly didn’t feel like a dream. I never had a dream that felt so real, I never felt pain in a dream, never felt the coolness of air filtering in through a vent, never smelt the stale disinfectant smell of hospitals. Could this reality be real?

Windu finished right in time for Obi Wan to return, a datapad in hand. They both chatted to each other quietly, Obi Wan waving the device in the air. Windu nodded and then left the room.

I watched Obi Wan hesitantly. He was one of my favorite characters, but I don’t throw my trust around blindly. And knowing him, I’m sure he doesn’t trust me either.

He approached me and pushed the data pad close to my mouth. He pointed a finger at his lips, said a few words, and then pointed to the data pad. It picked up his words, printing them onto the screen and displaying them in a language that I had seen written on billboards in the show but never took the time to understand.

I opened my mouth to speak and said the first thing that came to mind. “I need to fucking pee.”

It took a moment for the scanner to pick up what I said, but eventually words started to form on the screen. Obi Wan turned it around, looked at it and then laughed. His eyes glittered while he tinkered with the device and then he spoke a few more words into it and handed it over to me.

How badly? It read.

I gave him a knowing look and he laughed again and gestured towards the door. I felt a bit vulnerable in just my gown, but I followed him anyway. We weren’t on Kamino, I knew that much. Maybe Coruscant? There weren't any windows in the medical facility I was put in. The walls were white and medical droids and other patients walked the hallways, but there wasn’t a clone in sight. It must be a local hospital.

Obi Wan was speaking to me as best as he could through the datapad. Simple questions like my name and age and how I ended up passed out in front of the Jedi Temple. That was something I could not answer. I kept quiet for the most part about where I was from or what I was doing before now. If it was true that I fell through into another universe, I don’t think it would be smart to tell a Jedi Master that.

The bathrooms are just up ahead. He said and I thanked him.

Eventually he took me outside the facility, and I got a view of what was the bustling city planet known as Coruscant. Speeders and ships flew through the air, hundreds of people and aliens alike walked the streets as if today was just any other day. For them it was a normal day. For me, it might have been my worst nightmare.

We walked to the Jedi Temple, the sheer size intimidating. I started to think that they might use some Jedi mind tricks on me, break down any sanity I had just to find the truth. And then another part of me thought that they had no idea and really I was just some random girl who showed up on their doorstep. But what worried me the most was if they thought I was some Separatist spy. Thinking that made me question which was worse. Psychological torture or physical torture.

But all of my worries vanished once we were inside. It was like everything suddenly got brighter, happier, and more peaceful. It was like a breath of fresh air, and suddenly I was calm. Jedis clad in long robes of brown and white and gray walked casually about, their footsteps eerily quiet. It smelt like honeysuckle and tea. Old. It smelt really old.

Kenobi spoke again. I glanced at the datapad in my hands. You’ve calmed. I nodded and he continued to talk. You weren’t before. I could sense your unease, but I could also sense that you are familiar with me and Master Windu. Isn’t that right?

I didn’t answer. He wasn’t wrong, I knew him a hell of a lot more than he might think. Windu more or less.

“Why are we here?” I asked as if I was clueless.

To talk. He said no more.

It was intimidating to be in front of some of the strongest Jedis in the Star Wars universe. They all eyed me like I was something to be feared, something to be watched and kept on a five foot long leash. And I felt vulnerable and scared, my shoulders still boring that sickly smelling hospital gown.

Each had their own datapad, all except for Master Yoda. They asked questions, simple at first, almost the same things Obi Wan had asked me earlier, and then they started asking me things that required more complicated answers. Sometimes I would only give half answers, sometimes I would give no answers at all. But I would not lie. It would be pointless if I did.

They came to a verdict at the end of it all. I would be assigned a clone force, I wasn’t told which, but I had my suspicions. I would be watched, listened to, examined and picked apart at.

“Honest, you have not.” Yoda told me. Those were the first words I heard in a language I actually knew. “Find out, we will.”

I was put in a nice room in the Jedi Temple, but it lacked the warmth of a well lived home. Everything was white, the sun shined in, bouncing off the walls and encompassing my room in this bright glow. I hated it. The bed was comfortable, but it didn’t compare to my room back at the college. There were nice clothes in the closet. I could tell they were put there just this day. It reminded me of what Senator Amidala was so often seen wearing in the show. I would hardly compare even if I dressed in the fine and flowy silks.

I’d fallen asleep feeling exhausted emotionally. But deep down, somewhere in that small part of me that was actually excited to be here, I wished that whoever I was put with, I hoped it was the rowdy bunch known as The Bad Batch.

[lacrymatoryao3]

Redemption Was Just The Beginning

Chapter 3: September, 1899 (Continued)

[1] [2]

To the world, Arthur Morgan is dead. As he tries to face the idea, in a lush valley in Ambarino he comes face to face with a woman from his past, and they must reckon with an era long gone. Especially when she has secrets of her own.

(Rated explicit simply because eventually there’s smut in this.)

2,733 Words (AO3 Link)

Dr. Anderson was a woman. It surprised Arthur when she came into the bedroom adjoined to the kitchen with Ana. While he had heard of them, he had never actually met a ‘Lady Doctor’ as some people called them. He rarely saw doctors at all, but when he did the only women involved were either nurses or secretaries.

“Consumption, huh?” Dr. Anderson questioned, setting a medical bag nearly as big as she was on the dresser. She opened it and rifled through to get what she wanted.

Ana looked at Arthur snug tightly in the bed, “That’s what he says.”

“I see.” Dr. Anderson said out loud and putting her attention on Arthur, “Who did you get this diagnosis from?”

“Some doc down there in Saint Denis.” Arthur replied as Dr. Anderson put the end of a stethoscope underneath his shirt, moving it around to get a good listen of his lungs from multiple angles.

Dr. Anderson hummed, “Yeah? They do got quite the problem with that in those swamps. All that humidity.”

The doctor continued her examination, but while she investigated his ribs she pressed too hard on the muscle above his stomach. Arthur lurched forward and began to cough, hard and uncontrollably. Dr. Anderson grabbed a handkerchief and held it over his mouth. She encouraged him to let out whatever wanted to come up. Once the attack ended the doctor took a look at it, then put the handkerchief in a sealed metal box.

Dr. Anderson sighed, “I know that wasn’t pleasant, but with this sample I can look at it under a microscope at my office and see what’s really going on.”

“So,” Ana said, who had been sitting in a comfortable chair next to the bed, “do you agree it’s consumption?”

Dr. Anderson put her tools back into her bag, “To be quite honest? I’m not sure. Of course it’s a possibility with his symptoms, but at the same time he has injuries that make it harder to say for certain. Either way, his lungs are terribly congested. I’m going to give you a few things to keep him comfortable. Keep the windows open until the weather changes, he needs fresh air. Make sure he rests and doesn’t exert himself. Give him good food, good drink.”

The doctor rubbed her temples, “And if you think it’ll help make sure there’s a lot of garlic. I don’t really understand the idea people around here have about it, but since most almost swear upon it I don’t see the hurt.”

The doctor left them with two medicine bottles, one for pain and another for fever. She also gave Ana a medical syringe in case Arthur was unable to swallow. Ana followed the Dr. Anderson out, leaving Arthur with his thoughts for a while. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like feeling helpless or useless. There was no guarantee he would ever get better, he didn’t even try to entertain the idea. He would have preferred to die fighting the way he expected to, not like an old man bound to a bed.

“You dying, Mister?” A small voice squeaked from the doorway. Arthur looked at him, the boy peeking over the door jamb. He assumed from his dark hair and warm complexion he was the child Ana said she had. There was something peculiar to him, but Arthur couldn’t place it.

“Dunno yet.” Arthur replied a little too seriously than he intended, “When I am I’ll let you know.”

The boy scurried before they could say anything else to each other, hearing his mother’s voice. Arthur heard them muffledly speaking to each other in Spanish in the kitchen.

Ana returned to the room holding a wooden tray with legs, “You think you could eat for me? Mrs. Liang whipped it up. She says she’ll make you some sort of soup that should help you. Chinese medicine sort of stuff. I also made you a garlic tea.”

Arthur sat up a little further as Ana placed the tray on his lap, “Garlic… tea?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. We use it Mexico for coughs and such.”

Arthur looked at the meal. It was a fillet of some sort of fish with a cause on it. When he tried it, despite not having much of an appetite, it was a type of horseradish with more garlic mixed in. Underneath was a pad of plain white rice. On the side there was a salad of red radish mixed with apple. The tea did have a faint taste of the garlic, but it was mostly overpowered by the taste of lemon and honey. It was an odd combination, a little bit fancy, but it beat the spartan concoctions Pearson would throw together.

Arthur managed to finish it, Ana lowering the kerosene lamp’s glow before she left to feed herself and her son. They tried to be quiet in the kitchen. He looked around the room, looking for something to entertain himself with. He opened the tiny drawer in the bedside table and leaned over to peer inside. He pulled out a book. It was a collection of short stories about that English detective written by a feller named Conan Doyle. Mary-Beth had told him about him once. He opened the book to find on a blank starter page ‘J. Gardener – Obtained 1894’ written in a weak and shaky hand. It wasn’t a long book, but the previous reader didn’t seem to get very far. A quarter of the way through it, Arthur found a cigarette card of a Sioux chief in full regalia that was used for a bookmark.

Arthur had read the first three stories when Ana came in the room. She had changed from her sage green blouse and black plaid belted skirt into her nightgown. She had taken her hair out of the high bun with a braided crown into a style Arthur was much more familiar with. Her hair was still very long, falling in waves down her back, just as thick and shiny as it had been when he had first met her.

“I forgot that book was in here. Good thing you found it.” Ana said, placing a leather-bound journal and pencil on the table, “I brought that for you. I remember you always doing something in one of those.”

She sat in the chair next to him, propping her feet on a matching ottoman and draping a blanket over her lap. She stared at him for a while, there was a warmth gleaming in her eyes, “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Arthur gave her a frail smile, “Too bad you had to see how old I’m gettin’.”

“It’s not so bad, and I’m not young anymore either.” Ana replied, leaning against the chair’s arm, “Tell me, everything I missed. What happened to the gang? Clearly something, or else you wouldn’t be here.”

Arthur hesitated, but eventually began the long story. First with all the people who joined after she had gone, the ensuing years. Then he got to Blackwater, and the downfall of everything. One disaster after another, the Pinkertons, Micah Bell, Dutch’s change. He got into how he learned he, supposedly, had tuberculosis and who and how he got it. Ana listened with her own whirlwind of emotions, especially when she found out how old Hosea and Susan had gone out. She had some solace in those who she remembered who did make it out like Uncle who never seemed to do much around the camps, or Pearson who tried his best despite the bland stews, or the fallen Reverend Swanson who enjoyed listening to her pray during the mornings. She was surprised about John. He was just a teenager when they had met, he a near feral child. To know he had a family, was something she never completely expected of him.

The conversation went well into the night. As the owls hooted through the open windows, Arthur’s eyelids started to become heavy. Once there was no more speaking, Ana watched him as he fell asleep. She watched him for a while. Anger ignited in her chest for him, at Dutch. She contemplated if she ever really knew him. He seemed so different those years in her past. To know what became of him, what he did to the man he raised from a boy, it astonished her. It didn’t seem right. And that Micah, whoever the hell he was. It was a good thing she hadn’t been there. Her temperament would have not cooled, she would have probably killed him the moment he said anything vulgar to her.

Ana sighed and got up from the chair. She draped the blanket over the back, taking one last look at Arthur with all the things she wished she could say. Her feelings were still the same, but the knowledge and understanding it would never be despite any new hopes were also. Still she gazed upon him, reaching down and pushing his hair away from his forehead. She muttered to him softly not to wake him, before leaving the room to retire to her own upstairs.

[*]-----[*]-----[*]-----[*]-----[*]

During the night, Arthur’s fever spiked. When Ana went to check on him, he was flailing about in the bed. Sweat drenched his body, his nightshirt, and sheets. Ana fetched a small bucket of water and rag she put into the ice box before she went to bed. She put the fever medicine Dr. Anderson gave her into the syringe and tapped the air out of it, stabbing the small needle into his neck but avoiding any veins. She dunked the rag into the bucket of cold water, wrapping it around his forehead. She held him, waiting for it to break. He grasped wildly at anything he could grab whether it was her nightgown, which he pulled with a ferocity that the seams began to rip, or her hair tumbling down her back until she cried out in pain. Still, she held him tightly as he screamed and carried on in whatever delusional dream possessed him.

Through his anger, “MICAH! YOU RAT BASTARD! I SHOULDA LET YOU SWING IN STRAWBERRY! YOU DAMNED US! SOLD US OUT!”

Through his pain, “Dutch… Dutch, how could you do this…? You were like a father… And Hosea… You called me your son… Why? After all them years? Why?!”

Through his sobs, “Mary… Oh, Mary! I’m so sorry!”

Ana couldn’t stop herself from wincing at the last one, feeling like a knife cut through her heart.

After an eternity the medicine and the cold rag worked, leaving Ana feeling like she had just been through a battle. She examined her wounds, bruises on her arms and scratches on her back, and gown torn beyond repair. She laid him back in the bed, knowing in the morning she would need to change the sheets but too exhausted to bother right at the moment. She tucked him into the blankets tightly, lying down on them next to him. She brought his head to her chest, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck. It didn’t take sleep long to take her once she closed her eyes.

[*]-----[*]-----[*]-----[*]-----[*]

At first Arthur slept without much in terms of dreams. Then came a heat that burned like he was in the hottest pit of Hell. He opened his eyes to flames surrounding him. He couldn’t seem to escape them no matter what direction he moved in, fire licking his skin and threatening to consume him. In the blaze he saw faces and then their full forms. They surrounded him. Micah, that potbellied prick with that displeasing smug grin on his lips under his disgusting mustache and twinkle in his beady eyes covered by his stringy blond hair. Dutch with that unfeeling stare that had grown colder and colder by the time he abandoned Arthur on that cliff near Beaver Hollow. Mary, the most painful of all, the same expression on her beautiful face when he refused to run away with her. He tried to shout back at them, but to his ears no sound came out. He crumbled in front of them, their visages fading from him, leaving him in a pitch black void.

In front of him appeared a bright white light. He hesitated going towards it, until his eyes adjusted. It was the opening of a cave, leading to a meadow bathed in a golden glow. Instead of comfort he felt dread, like the other times before the world had turned that color. He walked towards the exit given to him, bracing himself for what he was going to see.

Surely enough, there it was. In a tall patch of grass alongside a stream fed by a waterfall, a magnificent white-tailed buck stood. It stared at him, unaffected by his approach. Arthur reached out to it, the deer sniffing at his hand and stepping away. It then looked past him. Sensing something else nearby, Arthur looked over his shoulder. Lounging calmly on a rock there was a cougar. Arthur knew how cougars usually were, strong and dangerous. They would attack without being heard or seen until it was too late. To see one act in such a way unnerved him.

The cougar stretched its slender body, loping down from the rock to the buck. It stood between it and Arthur. He expected to see it attack, but instead the cougar affectionately against the buck. The cat purred and groomed it, further confusing Arthur. He was aware this was another of his visions, he had had them when he learned he was dying, but this time he was unsure what the meaning held.

The cougar grunted. It walked towards the waterfall, looking back as if expecting him and the buck to follow it. The buck bounced behind the cat’s body, both animals disappearing under the cascading water. Arthur took a deep breath, stepping under the heavy shower.

The sudden coolness struck him, bringing him back to reality. He opened his eyes. He was still alive, lucky for another time. He felt a cool rag on his head and tightly in Ana’s arms. Arthur looked up to her face. Whatever had happened, the trouble was written on her sleeping face. He truly didn’t understand it all, how it led from the acceptance of dying and dying alone at that, to this. He out his head back onto her breast, finding comfort in her warm and strong heartbeat.

[*]-----[*]-----[*]-----[*]-----[*]

“I’m mighty sorry, Anie.” Arthur spoke as he watched Ana, still in the nightgown he ruined, strip the bed in the morning after breakfast and turning the cotton filled mattress over to the dry side from the armchair she sat him in.

“You have nothing to be apologetic over.” Ana replied, putting new linens on the bed and replacing the pillows, “It was a rough night. Until you came out of it I was almost sure I was going to lose you.”

She tucked the bottom blanket sheet into the foot board, covering it with a new quilt. She smoothed them with her hands before folding them into a triangular shape so Arthur could get back in when he was ready and stacking the pillows on top of one another so his head could stay comfortably elevated. She went over to him, helping him pull off his sweaty nightshirt. She put a fresh and clean on him after shaving his face, combing his hair, and washing him up with a damp cloth.

“I shoulda died out there. I don’t deserve any of this…” Arthur muttered when she tucked him in the bed.

Ana sighed. She started softly stroking his hair, the look on her face one of concern and sadness, “You let me be the judge of that for now, Arthur Morgan. All I want you to worry about is to get better.”

After Ana was dressed a man knocked on her door, handing her a telegram from Dr. Anderson. The slip of paper read:

‘Examined sample from gentleman in your care = Found no evidence of mycobacterium tuberculum (consumption) = Patient however has severe lung infection = Continue treatment recommendations = If advances send me again = If not will visit in a month’s time = Dr S M Anderson M D.’

[steddie-thirst]

It's Not Me | Rockstar!Eddie x Fem!Reader |

Summary: Eddie returns back home after a big concert tour with his band to see you. However, things don't go as planned and he's ending up being framed for murders he clearly did not commit. You realize this a little to late

You reach for the device ringing loudly next to you on the dresser, reaching for the device and eyeing the caller I.D. which was unavailable. That was odd. You swipe your thumb along the screen to answer it. "Hello?" You coo sweetly.

"Why, Hello there." A deep, husky voice replies, sounding as if someone drug their nails along a blackboard, low and calm. The eerie smoothness of it deeply unnerved you. Sending a crashing wave of goosebumps that littered over your arms and shoulders.

You did not want to really give in, but it was to late your lips were moving to fast for the brain to comprehend. “May I ask who’s calling?” Making sure to keep your own voice even and breathing steady in an attempt to appear unphased by the mysterious caller. People pull this kind of prank all the time right? So there should be nothing to really worry about. 

Then the caller chuckled, “Oh sweet, sweet, innocent Belle. You don’t know?” They voice chides, almost like a parent would scold their own child.

You were not too fond of the situation and despite knowing you should hang up, but you were left frozen in the moment. Unable to move or react unless it’s to speak. A deep sense of dread looms in the pit of your stomach. Still choosing to answer the voice, much to your own regret, “Don’t know what?” You question despite knowing you shouldn’t. A crash downstairs sends your beating heart into a frenzy as you rush over to the bedroom door to lock it. For a moment everything goes silent. It’s just the sound of your breathing and thumping of your heart echoing in your ears.

The silence ends, “I’m already in the house and in ten seconds your insides will be on the outside.” In the shock of the moment you hurriedly hang up the phone, the fight or flight response kicking in at top speed. You unlock the small device in your hand hurriedly tapping away at the screen to dial 9-1-1.

As the phone line rings, the door to the room is suddenly shoved open a tad by an arm. You jump back a strangled cry leaving your lips. The figure on the other side of the door grunts pushing it on further so you could see the mask along with the knife gripped tightly in their hand.

A horrible white, but ghost-like face framed by a black robe that hugged to them like the shadows, it was horrifying. You back away from the doors, preventing their entry, and wait for someone to pick up the call. Tears stream down your cheeks in fear and horror at the thought of dying.

Just as the phone line connects and you look back at the door and the figure is gone. Everything slows down and it's silent. "9-1-1 what's your emergency?" The woman at the end of the line hums blandly.

You look back at the door, "Someone's inside my house. I need help, please. They're going to kill me-" As your voice sobs into the phone you back further away from the door. The need to put space between you and the danger a natural instinct.

"Oh! Hold on, honey. I'm sending squad cars your way now." She reassured you with a much sweeter tone, not akin to bland line she fed you minutes ago.

"Thank you-" Your back meets something firm and whirling around to face it a scream rips from your throat. The impact makes the phone fall from your grasp the call dropping. The figure steps back hands thrown up in defense.

Brown eyes, dimpled cheeks, and long curly mane of dark brown hair with the unmistakable metal attire to follow. He smiles, "Belle? You okay?"

"E-Eddie?" Your stammer instinctively reaching out to touch him. He looks you up and down. "Thank God, you're here." You wrap your arms around his waist letting the warmth of his body overtake you. The smell of smoke, leather and weed filling your senses.

Eddie wraps arms around your middle, letting the emotions work their way out. Your head falls against his shoulder the quiet quake of sobs racking through you. On hand slides up to rub your upper back in small, soothing circles. "Hey, what's going on, sweetheart? What's got you shakin'?" He asks.

Your lip trembles as you pull back to look into thos chocolaty brown eyes, "Someone tried to kill me, Eddie. H-He was in the house and-" Midway through the sentence there were some things that simply didn't add up. The figure left when Eddie showed up. You pull back from his touch and Eddie is a bit offended by the gesture, but loses the attitude when he sees the look on your face. "-How'd you get in, Eddie?"

He scoffs dropping his hands to his sides, and shaking his head in utter disbelief. "Shit." He shrugs his shoulders and looks back to you. "The window. It was open, Belle. You really think that I'd pull some shit like that?"

You didn't want to believe it. Eddie was such a kindhearted soul and had been gone out if town for 3 years living his dream as a rockstar along with his band mates in Corroded Coffin. "I-I don't know, Eddie." When he steps forward a folded paper drops from his pocket and when you glance down at it, noticing the signature that is scribbled on the side facing up.

"Eddie?" Your voice is slow, but with timbre changed. "Where'd you get that?" He follows amongst your gaze and frowns bending down to scoop up the paper.

"It's the letter you wrote to me. You said you wanted to talk and you told me to come at 8." Eddie explained passing the letter over for you to examine.

Dear Eddie,

I hope my letter finds you well, Eddie. I heard from Steve and Robin you were coming into town. Could you come by my place at 8, I'd love to reconnect with you.

Love, Belle.

"I-I didn't write this, Eddie." You shake your head and step back. "I cannot believe you."

Eddie felt betrayed in the moment. How could you really think he did all of that? For what reason could he have to do so? For a little scare? To get in your pants- "Wait!"

"Police!" They break down the door and you back away pointing to Eddie still frozen in complete fear as one of the cops ushers you out of the room, turning to look back at him as he calls out for you.

Eddie is forced down to the ground at the knees, before his front made harsh impact with the floor. "You have the right to remain silent-" Everything fell on deaf ears. He was hurt, lost, and confused. You had to believe him. You had to. The clasping of the cuffs brought him back into reality, feeling the metal dig into his skin, probably much to the officers dismay. "C'mon freak. Lets go downtown."

As they walked Eddie from the house he spotted Steve off to the side holding you, sobbing into his chest and clinging to him. Eddie stopped, "Belle I swear I didn't-"

"Keep moving!" The officer shoved him forward, with his palm at his shoulder continuing on.

"I swear, Belle! I didn't do it!"

TAGLIST:

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[rossithepixie]

Okay under the cut is gonna be me doing some reflecting on how i’m 4 days away from my 1 year anniversary of finally escaping my abusive ex and how i’m having some feelings right now

As i said above it’s gonna be year since i got away from my ex. Which would have been impossible without outside help because i’m on disability and have limited income because of it. It had only been harder because my ex had an iron grip on my already limited finances while i lived with her since if i even tried to take back the smallest amount of financial control she’d make an already bad situation 100x worse.

It hadn’t started that way of course, stuff like that never does. But the while situation was compounded by the fact that we’d started long distance and i’d moved across the country for her. We’d rushed in all honesty because i wanted to get away from my drunk father and finally be free to come out of closet in safety. I unfortunately couldn’t have known it was going to be an out of the frying pan and into the fire situation.

I didn’t know that everything was going to be so bad and that in my search for independence and love that everything was going to go straight to hell. And don’t be mistaken, i did love her and that was part of why it took so long to admit i was being abused financially, emotionally and mentally. And this doesn’t begin to tell anyone just how bad it was. Because by end of it i felt like shell of who i used to be.

And i struggle greatly with feeling like my mid to late 20’s were wasted. Time spent being isolated by her from other people through multiple ways. Those 4 years i saw very few things and made almost no connections to anyone else. I was in a new state where I didn’t know anyone else with no money to use to go out to help me meet anyone else. I was rarely able to get new clothes because of her financial control and if i wanted clean clothes i often had to handwash mine because we didn’t have a washer or dryer and she very much prioritized buying herself clothes as well as hers getting first dibs on being washed. I had clothes that ended up unsalvageable from sitting at the bottom of a laundry basket so long. (Her clothes took up two fullsize dressers and majority of the closet)

I certainly didn’t feel comfortable meeting new people like that with clothes that were old and only as clean as i could get them by hand. And i hated going out if i did go because i’d be like that standing next to her in full new outfits and her hair and nails done. It felt humiliating. I will never forget when someone looked at us together and gave me a dirty look and expressed how she couldn’t believe someone as pretty as her was with someone like me. She didn’t defend me either. The woman who’d insulted me then began to hit on her.

And this is just a tiny tiny fraction of the things that happened while i was out there.

Getting away was hell. I’d tried at one point when my therapist finally got me to a point where i could admit i was being abused because admitting that meant accepting how bad things had gotten. I also had to wait until i could do in person therapy again because she would eaves drop on me and if she wasn’t home our other roommate who was her best friend would eavesdrop for her and tell her what i’d said in therapy and private calls.

Even once i could admit and knew i needed out it would take a full year before i could escape since when i’d reached out to my bio dad who had both the money to help and the space for me he refused to help unless i got rid of my cat who’s my ESA. My cat was my one thread of sanity through it all. And though i had a breakdown, i stayed.

It wasn’t until i told an old friend what was going on and they got a good job was i able to leave. Even once plans were set I couldn’t relax until i was actually out. Even the 2 hour bus ride to the airport I couldn’t relax, walking through a 100 degree city with a cat carrier and as many possessions as i could pack into two bags i couldn’t relax. Not because i thought my ex would come after me but because so much had been ground out of me over the course of 4 years that i didn’t dare hope i could actually be free. It actually took several weeks of being in my new apartment with my friend for it to start sinking in that i would be okay. I cried over clean laundry, i cried over being able to buy things i needed without the worry that would id be told no, i cried over being able to eat without getting yelled at. I had to relearn how to give my body rest when it needed it and that no one was gonna yell at me if I didn’t immediately take care of something. And this is all among so many other things.

With how terrible her “love” was i still struggle with the idea of being lovable for someone. I wonder if i’ll ever be truly wanted and loved in the way i’d like to be. Because it’s hard to feel like you’re worth loving after being treated so badly for so long.

I don’t know where i’m going with this. I thought i’d be having happier emotions so close to my 1 year anniversary of getting away but instead i just feel hurt and sad.

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Blue's Rose - Chapter 10 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Boys Will Be Reluctant

Blue Cavanaugh & Kulap 'Kool' Somboon

This is going to be a nightmare, Blue thought as he flopped back against the taxi seat as it drove away from the deceptively sweet looking girl and once sweet boy.

He rested his head back and closed his eyes.

Good gosh what had he gotten himself into.

Dancing?

He hated dancing.

Blue rolled his head against the seat, opened his eyes, and stared out the window.

He didn't hate it, he silently corrected himself as he watched halfheartedly the bustling city on the other side of the window.

He actually loved it but he did hate dancing in front of other people.

He was, too big.

Though he loved to dance and felt good when he danced that didn't mean he looked good when he danced.

Blue shuddered at the thought of what he would look like dancing next to Kool.

Blue huffed out a scoffing laugh and ran his hand through his hair as he imagined how ridiculous he would look.

Kool was all fluid motion and lean rhythm.

Blue figured he would look like a lumbering bear on crack in comparison.

Thumping his closed fist on his thigh, Blue's mind continued to conjure up various images of tonight, taunting him.

None of them were pretty.

The ones that included Kool.

Well that was another story.

The taxi pulled up to the hotel and Blue retrieved his wallet paying the driver and thanking him.

Climbing out he decided he would spend the day on the beach.

So much had happened since he had set off this morning to see Kool only to end up meeting Kulap instead.

He needed some time to decompress and think things through.

Blue sighed as he made his way into the hotel and headed towards the elevators.

He would get changed, slab on some sunscreen, grab a few bottles of water and head out back to the beach.

He had a lot of thinking to do and he could not imagine a more beautiful place do it.

The sunny beauty would help alleviate some of the dark turns he knew his thoughts would take.

Ten minutes later, Blue grabbed his cell phone, sunglasses and entry card up off the dresser where he had dropped them earlier, pulled the bottles of water from the fridge, snatched up a towel and set off back downstairs.

He'd considered taking a book with him as well but who was he kidding?

He had too many thoughts currently whirling around in his mind.

No book would be interesting enough right now to hold his attention.

His current life story was fast eclipsing any book found on any best seller list.

Finding a spot somewhat away from others, Blue spread his towel on the creamy soft sand, tossed his water and phone alongside it and plopped down.

He pulled his knees up and rested his arms atop his knee caps as he looked around.

Mainland beaches he had been told were nothing when compared to the various island beaches found in Thailand.

Blue thought the view from where he was sitting was pretty outstanding enough.

Blue leant back on his elbows and let his eyes from behind his sunglasses casually roam along the wide area.

Various people of all nationalities were actively going about their business.

Some were playing in the water while some played in the sand.

Others were throwing a frisbee, while others, like him were just sitting and soaking up the sun.

"Nice," Blue sighed out and straightened his arms down by his side, letting his torso fall back so that he lay almost lifeless stretched out on the towel.

"Very nice," he drawled out, enjoying the hot sun on his skin.

He sat up suddenly and whipped off his t-shirt, before settling back down again.

He wouldn't keep it off for long though, he thought.

This kind of direct sunlight could easily burn him.

Reaching his arm out he blindly searched for his cell.

Making contact he lifted it up and set the alarm.

He'd give himself a little time on his back and then a little time laying on his front before putting his shirt back on.

He hadn't come all this way to leave without a tan.

All this way, he thought, shifting his shoulders so that the sand below his towel conformed more to his body like a contouring mattress.

He wondered what else he might leave with?

Considering pretty much nothing had gone as he had imagined and Kool was almost nothing like he remembered, the answer was anybody's guess.

Not that Kool slash Kulap was unlikeable, he thought, not at all, he was just very different.

Blue needed to alter any expectations he had had prior to coming if he wanted this trip to be remotely successful.

He also needed to forget about the original reason he had come in the first place and he definitely didn't need to make any mention of the blue rose.

What was in the past was in the past.

If he could hang out with his good friend Kool slash Kulap, swap some stories and maybe even make a few new memories then he would be content with that.

Should be but dancing, he suddenly groaned aloud, while rapidly kicking his heels in the sand like a little kid having a temper tantrum.

Did it have to be dancing?

Blue pictured Mia's smile as they had said goodbye.

She had completely ignored any and every attempt he had made to reason with her since her return from the restroom.

She had sweetly and elegantly ignored his every word and had stayed mute as they had walked out of the restaurant and as they had waited for a taxi to arrive to collect Blue.

It wasn't until right before the taxi door shut that she had pleasantly called out...

"I can't wait," her smile taunting and mischievous in a way he wouldn't have thought her capable of being.

She gave the impression of being cutesy and loveable.

Pain in the you know what was probably more accurate, he groused.

Blue smiled to himself.

To be honest, he liked Mia, she sparkled.

Her personality was vivacious without being obnoxious, not counting the dancing thing, Blue corrected himself.

She had a way of putting people at ease, too.

Lunch would have been miserable without her.

She had kept the conversation going and filled in any gaps with ease so that no awkward moments ruined the atmosphere she carefully orchestrated.

Her endeavors to make the outing comfortable and enjoyable was much appreciated by Blue.

If he were really honest with himself, as much as he hated dancing, he was also thankful to her for making this opportunity for Blue to spend more time with Kool.

He had been thinking midway through lunch how would he go about arranging further contact.

Kool's wooden behavior throughout the meal had not been encouraging.

Blue had pretty much been accepting that when they said their goodbyes after eating that that would be that.

Mia's speaking up and announcing that she wanted to go dancing and that she expected Blue to tag along really was a blessing in disguise.

Evidently dancing would be the price he had to pay.

Blue's cell-phone repeatedly pinged and he reached out to reset the alarm.

Tossing the cell-phone back onto the sand he flipped over onto his stomach, rested his cheek on his folded arms and let his thoughts continue to wander.

They didn't have to go far.

The image of Kool's beautiful face instantly formed behind his closed lids.

Blue felt a small smile tilt the corner of his mouth.

Though Blue had been taken aback at the first sight of Kool this morning Blue realized now that it in no way reflected displeasure in what he had seen.

Kool still was by far one of the most breathtaking human beings Blue had ever seen in person.

In a way, Blue liked Kool's new look as much as he liked his old one.

It definitely suited the person he was today.

Blue consciously changed the image to one from four years ago and suddenly whistled through his teeth as he saw the Kool of then.

His look then was hard to beat.

Blue turned his head and lay his other cheek down on his folded arms, trying to decide which one he liked better but finding he couldn't.

Though they looked very different and acted as different, he still couldn't choose one over the other.

Blue suddenly laughed self-consciously at himself as he realized what he was doing.

He felt funny when he realized he was trying to figure out which version was better looking.

What did that matter to him?

Uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts, finding them frustrating and confusing, Blue lifted his head up and rested his chin on one arm as his other reached out and his hand sifted through the warm sand.

He knew he wasn't fooling himself at all.

Denying his thoughts and complicated feelings didn't make them miraculously disappear.

He just didn't think he was ready to be more honest with himself.

Didn't really even know if there was a point now.

Considering Kulap was engaged to a wonderful girl and was treating Blue lukewarm at best, did he really need to rock his own world with self-reflection for something that could and most likely would turn out to be moot?

Blue sighed, he watched the sand slowly flow through his fingers.

The tiny particles trickled effortlessly in whatever direction he commanded.

He wished his thoughts were as easy to manipulate as the granules.

The sudden chirping of the alarm roused Blue from his dazed stupor.

He flattened his hand out and let the remainder of the sand he was holding fall back down to the beach.

Picking up his cell-phone, he silenced the alarm before checking the time.

With a few hours left to kill before he needed to get ready to meet up with Mia and Kool not to mention being hot as hell, Blue decided he was going for a swim.

The physical activity would not only cool his body but hopefully distract his mind.

[awandapologist]

Crazy over you (Pt. 1)

All you want is for Kate to show you who you belong to (Kate x female reader!)

This is my first fic so please be nice!! I’m still trying to figure out tumblr so sorry if the layout looks fucked up I tried my best ok. Part 1 of ????

Ever since you met Kate you were inexplicably drawn to her. A moth to a flame. A bee to a flower. All these corny sayings never resonated with you until you met her. There was just something about her presence that you couldn’t get enough of. Maybe it was her confidence that drew you in. Definitely unwarranted at times but just so so attractive. Her humor. The way she made you burst out laughing at some of the ridiculously cheesy jokes she would make.

Or maybe it was the way she somehow made you feel at ease even during your first encounter. You didn’t open up to people easily, but with Kate, it was different. It just felt natural. Whatever it was, you knew you would take her in whatever way that she would give you.

With that being said, you began to flirt back with Kate. You weren’t used to feeling this way about someone and you wanted to make it known. Fortunately for you, the otherwise oblivious archer noticed everything you did. The way you blushed when she complimented you. How she would catch you staring a little too long at her, gaze occasionally dropping down to her lips. Kate saw the signs and took her chance, asking you out on a date during one of your movie nights at your apartment. Slightly taken aback, you happily agreed and the rest was history.

You and Kate have now been dating for about three weeks. Almost a whole month of absolute heaven. Kate treated you like her most prized possession; taking you out to expensive dinners, giving you massages after a long day at work, buying you little gifts that she thought you’d enjoy. She was the most respectful and thoughtful person you had ever met. It was bliss. Well, except for one thing.

You didn’t know how to tell Kate that you wanted her to fuck you. You were still getting used to the whole open communication part in a relationship, even though Kate made it easy for you to open up more than you ever have before. She made you feel so safe. But this…this was different. You didn’t know how to communicate just what you wanted her to do to you. You certainly thought about it enough. So many nights with your hands between your legs so desperately wishing it was Kate’s long fingers or plump lips where your own fingers were. The two of you hadn’t gone any further than Kate leaving hickeys all over your neck after a heated make out session one night.

That wasn’t enough. You wanted her to leave them all over your body. Your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. You wanted to be covered in her touch.

That was what was racing through your mind yet again as you were waiting for Kate to pick you up to attend one of her mother’s many infamous galas in the city. You knew it was a fancy event, so you opted for a little black dress and your favorite pair of heels. You were in the middle of touching up your makeup in your bedroom mirror when you heard Kate’s voice enter your apartment. Footsteps approached as she spoke, “Hey babe! I brought you some flowers and I figured we could put them in some water before we go-.” Kate’s sentence was cut short, however, when she saw you in your outfit. You could see her reflected in the mirror in front of you and your breath hitched. She was wearing an all black tuxedo with her hair down, letting her long dark waves flow loosely. You could see her eyes immediately darken as she looked up and down your body, the flowers in her hand quickly placed on the dresser as she made her way towards you. You felt strong arms wrap around your waist and the smell of her Saint Laurent perfume invade your senses as she began to kiss your neck. “Hi,” you giggled as she placed gentle kisses across your skin. Kate smiled at your shy voice. “You look so beautiful baby, I’m so so lucky.” You felt yourself relax in her arms and lean your head to the side to give her lips more access. Her strong grip on your hips tightened as you let out a soft moan at her ministries on your neck.

“Kate I-” you started, voice barely coming out. “What is it baby?” “What do you want-“ Kate’s words were rudely interrupted by an alarm on her phone, reminding her that the car her mother had ordered for the two of you was now outside of your apartment.

Kate let out a huff of annoyance into your neck and chuckled at the timing, “Cars here.” You turned around to face her, putting your arms around her neck in the process. You pouted up at her and she leaned down to kiss your lips. “You’re too cute. I would kiss you all night if I could but we gotta go baby.” You rolled your eyes at the comment. “Fine, but they better have champagne,” you stated and she took you by the hand to lead you outside.

What you didn’t say is that you secretly wished that she had just ignored the reminder on her phone. Instead, pushing you up against the wall and having her way with you right then and there. Fuck the gala. Fuck responsibility. You wanted her to make you moan, to beg for her touch. You wanted to give up all of your control to her. You wanted her to want you so badly that she forgot about anything else. And that’s exactly what you would get through to her tonight.

[koushisatori]

if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

[witch-hazels-musings]

because I need that good loving can I request Diluc and Zhongli reaction to seeing there SO dressed up for a formal event even though its not something they really like doing but because they dont want to make Diluc/Zhongli look bad in front of all these other people they put all their effort into looking like the human embodiment of attractiveness.

the way you look tonight 

(okay so truth time - I thought about you the whole time I was writing this and forgot you requested it -- I hope the love of these boys reminds you that you are lovely <3!) 

Warning -> SFW, fluff / comfort (cussing(1))(self-conscience reader)

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Zhongli ⚘, Diluc

Zhongli

He finds your normal style of dress unique and interesting, it’s unlike most of the people who make up Liyue’s landscape and it’s independently you

When someone lives their life in the way they want to, that's what Zhongli admires the most about people, about humans 

He doesn’t mind what you wear, he would want anyone to meet you, to see you regardless because through his eyes he sees your attractiveness - it’s in the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you react when something makes you excited or when he gives you a gift you don’t expect - how could he hide you away and not let others see the way you glow? 

You look at yourself for the tenth time in the large circular mirror. An hour had gone by and you still felt unusual, out of place, like a fraud in this attire. For the, you’ve lost count, time you fuss with the fabric that sits against your stomach, tugging on it, wondering if you should leave it open or closed. The most frustrating thing about this is that you had no idea how to wear this damn thing. 

Your head falls onto the vanity and you do your best to hold it all in. With a deep breath, you go back to messing with your hair and face. The ticking clock behind you reminds you that time is not your friend no matter how much you want it to stop. 

This is so hard for you, of course, you want to be there for Zhongli - he was there for everything you ever did, it was beyond time to repay him - but you just couldn’t find the confidence to be proud of what you’d done. So, shaping the image in your brain into a distorted representation of what you wished you looked like, you stood from your small chair and walked toward the door of the bedroom. 

Your shoes click on the hardwood floor which is something you hate, the thought of people hearing you coming only to see what appears from the source of the sound makes your skin crawl. Still, you pressed on, and that’s when your eyes fell onto the immaculate figure that stands near the entrance. His tall, elegant frame is so intense it knocks the wind from your lungs as if someone just punched you in the stomach. How can I stand next to that … you panic and turn to retreat back into the safety of the bedroom when your arms collide with a small table in the hallway.

Objects fall to the ground and, in a ridiculous display of your clumsy nature, you juggle one of the more breakable objects before catching it moments from shattering on the floor below. 

“Whew …” You exclaim, bringing it close to your body. “Sorry, little guy didn’t mean to do that.” You wince, patting its side before place it back onto its home and picking up the other objects from the ground. 

Long fingers enter your field of vision, startled you stand only to see Zhongli reaching down to assist you. 

“Ah, sorry.” You express, crossing your arms after putting the items in your hands half-hazard onto the surface. 

“No need to apologize, are you injured?” He asks, standing himself and reminding you how tall he is. 

“My pride, maybe.” You share, laughing through your embarrassment. 

“Too much of that and we might find ourselves in trouble anyway.” He looks down at you, his eyes scanning, interested and making you shift under their gaze. “You …” 

“I know... I look so strange, and,” you begin, fussing with the top again, “I can’t seem to get this right.” Turning around you show him what you were talking about and how it seems far too loose. 

He laughs softly and you feel his hands run underneath the edge of the fabric and coming to rest at the wrap at your waist. “Let me assist you.” 

“Thank you …” He’s so close to you, his hands move expertly as they work to correct your inadequacies, eyes compassionate, patient as they always are. 

“This outfit suits you.”

“Does it really? I look so … I mean this isn’t something I would normally wear. In fact,”  You think for a minute before continuing, “I can’t remember the last time I dressed up for something other than adventuring. It’s not practical to go running through ruins in this type of getup.” You explain, lifting your arms and watching how the fabric slips down to your elbows before sliding back to your wrists as they collide with your legs. 

“That could turn things into quite the challenge I’d imagine.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Nevertheless, you will turn quite a many heads upon our arrival.” 

“That’s what I'm afraid of …” You mumble, forgetting that he is close enough to hear you. 

“Y/N, need I remind you how spectacular you look.” 

You bite your lip but your insecurities make you speak anyway, “I just don’t see how I have the right to stand next to you, I don’t want you to be … ashamed of me.” The end of your sentence trails off as you look to the ground. Zhongli doesn’t respond until his hands stop fixing your gown. With comforting fingers he presses against the soft underbelly of your chin, lifting your head at the angle it should be. 

“While I am beyond sure you can hear me, I hope that you can trust me as well when I tell you that every day I am honored to stand at your side. There is nothing in this world which compares to your beauty, in fact, you are more radiant than the moon itself.” He leans in to place a kiss against your forehead. 

“You don’t wish I was … more attractive?” 

“I cannot wish for a thing that holds no bearing on reality.” 

“Mmm.” 

“If my words have not reached you, perhaps I can better express my truth through actions …” He pulled you flush against him, his hands now wrapped around your hips and eyes focused on your lips. 

“Aa! Wait … no, I believe you.” Embarrassed, you push away from him and make your way toward the door. “Let’s just go because if I get out of this thing I won’t be putting it back on.” You huff, smoothing out the wrinkles. 

“Shall we?” He reaches for your hand and easily you take it. 

“Let’s do this.” With a lighthearted Zhongli, you exit your home and head toward the lively sounds drifting over the water. 

Diluc

He already thinks you are so incredibly attractive no matter what you wear - he knows you’re one for practicality, from your actions to your clothes, you are ready to go and prepared for whatever will come your way - a trait he admires

There is something adorable about the way you fall out of bed in the morning and, in some cases, take less time than he does to get ready - it can come in handy where there much work to be done 

He never asks for you to be more than what you are - he honestly wouldn’t care what other people thought about you, all that matters is you believe him when he tells you how good you look or how you make his heart clench 

So when he sees you descend the stairs in an outfit, a formal, totally out-of-the-absolute-norm outfit, he’s stunned 

“Crap.” You say, flinging the jewelry you couldn’t decide on anyway back toward the dresser. You’d taken far too long to get ready, even though you started hours ago, it still wasn’t enough to make you feel confident and finished. Glancing at your reflection one last time, you gave up with a heavy sigh and made your way down the hallway. 

You could already see everyone else in their formal attire ready to go, even the attendants looked better than you did. When you caught sight of Diluc your steps slowed and for a solid minute to you debated about turning around and hiding under the comfortable covers of the bed you loathed getting out of this morning. 

“Ah, there you are! Are you ready?” Adaline shouted from below you and like a scene from a nightmare everyone turned to look up at you. You stumbled backward and felt your chest tighten, eyes scanning each face as you debated on your next action. When they fell onto Diluc’s stoic eyes, you felt a little bit of relief and knew all you had to do was make it down to him. 

Slowly, you started again and, with a deathlike grip on the railing, you made your way down the stairs. Diluc met you at the bottom, his hand extended to take yours. 

“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t figure out what would pair well with … this thing.” You gestured at your outfit and looked behind him, thankful that people had already started to leave through the front door. “Do I … look okay?” 

With an awkward smile, you waited for his answer, hopeful that he wouldn’t have to struggle so hard to lie to you. I mean, when you were able to see him in his suit, the way it perfectly fits around his toned body, the fabric tucked in all the right places, the sleeves just long enough to give one a peek of skin underneath - there was no way you compared to him. 

He looked at you for so long your heart started to feel like a thousand knives were stabbing you in all directions. He hates this … he can’t believe that I’m such a disaster. The thoughts circulate in your brain and just as your about to rush back up the stairs and hide he lifts your fingers to his lips and kisses them with so much love. 

“I apologize … I’m just a bit startled is all.” Your stomach drops to your feet at his words. 

“Archons, is it that bad? Did I put something on wrong … or?” 

“Nothing like that,” He kisses your palm and the action makes your spine turn hot, “You look unbelievable, is what I wanted to say.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yes.” He looks at you but you shy away from his eyes. “Y/N, do you trust me?” 

“What … of course I trust you.” You reply, flabbergasted. 

“Then trust me now.” He pulls you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around your neck, his hand resting at the back of your head. “I’ve never seen someone as brilliant as you.” 

Fueled by your emotions, you return his hug, squeezing your arms around his waist and doing your best not to let your face be ruined by the tears that want to fall from stinging eyes. “Thank you, I’ll trust you on this … today.” 

“I don’t have any issues reminding you again and again.” Shouting outside tells you that it’s now or never and, as much as you don’t want to, your arms release each other. “Are you ready?” He asks, offering you his arm, and with a deep inhale and sharp nod, you take it and walk through the doors. 

----

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[acemapleeh]

Sudden Burst of Springtime

May 23rd: Tulips/Flowers

Summary: The first Canadian Tulip Festival is being held in Ottawa, further continuing the tradition of the Netherlands sending Matthew’s home and people thousands of tulip bulbs every year since 1945. Being sent the gift with an adorning letter was one thing, Matthew, however, wasn’t entirely ready for Jan to spend the full week with him. 

Written for Day 1 of @nedcanweek

Characters: Canada, Netherlands

Word Count: 3227

Read on ao3

Late Spring, Ottawa, Canada 1953

Matthew had been staring at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes now. He had switched out his sweater three times, took a blazer off and on, did away with both and tried a sleeveless pullover only to toss that back on the bed to leave him in just his button up. His hair was ruffled up from the constant wardrobe changes and he wondered how in the hell others could just seamlessly get ready without a second thought. He shouldn’t be making a big deal about this. He really shouldn’t he told himself as he picked the brush up and tried to calm the frizz of his curls back. 

Jan was coming today. He was coming from the airport this afternoon and was going to stay at Matt’s home for the full week the first held tulip festival was going to take place. This wasn’t the first time Jan had come to Canada, he just stayed at hotels or the embassy. Never Matthew’s home. Never that intimate of an insight of how he actually lived. 

He had spent the past week cleaning the place and trying to keep everything neat and tidy. All the laundry was finished, dishes washed and put away, the random assortment of stuff being shoved into the back of a closet or under the bed or all in the spare room that Alfred always stayed in every time he visited.

Maybe he should wear the vest. It was May after all and the weather had been decent the past few days. A striped shirt with a plain vest looked good right? 

He picked up one of his knitted wares. Mary Maxim certainly captured his love for his wildlife and warm sweaters. Fish weren’t romantic were they? Would he be expected to wear something that really reflected his home? Hell, would Jan even care? As long as his clothes were clean and he looked put together, Matthew shouldn’t have to worry about things like if he looked better in a turtleneck or if the sweater had a zipper or buttons. He didn’t mull this much over when he visited father who always fussed over him being well groomed when growing up.

He had even been switching back and forth on the two pairs of glasses he owned. At one point, he considered wearing his contact lenses. Jan knew he wore glasses and had poor eyesight. What would be trying to prove by doing that?

Matt ran a hand through his hair and paced his bedroom. He could feel his hands trembling, likely from the four cups of coffee he had that morning and had to tell himself a million times to wash and put his mug away when he finally had enough. God he slept poorly; he had spent the majority of the night tossing and turning. Awaken thrice from nightmares and another two for simply no reason. He felt sick when the sun came up and staggered his way into the kitchen.

Catching his face in the mirror as he paced back towards his dresser, he saw just how purple his eyes were. Jan was going to ask if he slept well and if he was feeling alright. Matthew would lie. Say he was fine then be called out for lying and Jan would leave.

He switched to the oval shaped glasses so that the thin frame would somewhat cover the underside of his eyes.

The long chime doorbell made him yelp and drop the other frames he was holding.

He shot a look at the clock. Jan was early. Matthew should have known Jan would arrive early. They had talked over the phone when he landed.

Fish were going to be have to be romantic.

He shoved every bit of rejected clothes under his bed and grabbed the first bottle of cologne he saw to spray it behind his ears.

As he ran down the hall and into the entryway, he started at his shoes lined by the door. Should he slip them on? Would that look better? That he wanted to go out? Or did that make him look over eager? That he didn't care that he walked with shoes inside and trekked dirt everywhere?

The chimes resounded again and he quickly slipped on the nearest pair of penny loafers.

He took a deep breath and smoothed down his sweater, hoping and praying his hands weren't clammy.

Matthew smiled sweetly, heart fluttering like a bird as he opened the door.

And there stood Jan right there on his doormat. Eye to eye with him for the first time in nearly a year. Matt would tell him he looked better each time he saw him and really, he did. The rebuilding process in the Netherlands was going along much faster than anticipated; what was once predicted to take a generation was looking closer to only a decade. Matthew knew he should be nothing but happy. Nothing but happy that Jan’s home and people would recover smoothly and no longer need such intense aid from North America. He bit the inside of his cheek, putting his head back into the moment at hand.

The greeting kiss to his lips also helped with grounding him. He cupped Jan’s cheeks and pulled him inside the front door, wanting every bit of him and not needing any of his neighbors to have anything to gossip about. God, he had missed him. Matthew had missed everything about him. He missed this feeling most of all, of being wanted and held with admiration. He yearned so desperately that he nearly didn’t care if either of them had plans for the day and was more inclined to let Jan just how much he missed him on his living room floor.

“Easy, easy, careful. You’re going to crush them.” Jan had pulled back, lips a stunning shade of red and was cradling a bouquet of tulips in his arms. Bright, colorful, beautiful flowers that Matthew was very glad to have not damaged. 

“Sorry... I just- I saw you and I couldn’t help myself,” he laughed a tad awkwardly, stuffing his hands in his pockets to avoid his terrible habit of thumb twiddling and scratching. “You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.”

Jan nodded in agreement, holding the flowers out to Matt with the warmest smile like they’ve done nearly for ten years now. It was different now, but in a way still the same. It was never in Matthew’s house that they’ve done this. It had always been a tad formal. The first time he had presented them had been so stiff despite it being the two of them alone. Matt had embraced him so tightly he felt like he would burst if he let go. He had told him they had fought side by side together in Normandy and had seen each other at their lows. Formalities be damned. 

Jan’s gaze never shifted anywhere but straight ahead and on him, he never fumbled over his words or looked flustered. The flush Matthew was seeing now he knew wasn’t from being embarrassed, it was simple yearning, but he was still hesitant to say if any of it was love.

Matthew held the assortment of color in his arms, eyes closed as he brought in the subtle scent of spring and happiness. The petals were soft under his fingertips as he stroked one lovingly. He felt like he could stand in his living room forever, Jan just a step away and the warm sunlight trickling in from the window above the door warmed his face. 

“You should put those in a vase with water. They’ve come a long way.”

“Huh?” Matthew blinked, the room seeming less surreal when he opened his eyes. 

“I kept the paper towels damp the whole flight but the sooner they’re put in a proper vase, the better.” There was the slightest blush on his cheeks. “There was an older woman who sat next to me on the plane who kept asking about them and the supposed wife I was going to give them to. I kept trying to tell her it was only a diplomatic matter. She kept insisting a young, handsome man such as myself surely has a wife and that she was visiting Ottawa to see her son and wife. He fought in the war and fell in love with a Canadian nurse.”

Matt laughed, imaging the poor, stoic Dutchman actively listen to the woman’s tale. “I’m sure you can tell me everything about them knowing how long that flight is.”

“Naturally,” Jan gestured back to the flowers. “Now, where do you keep your vases?”

“Vases? Right...” Matthew couldn’t even remember the last time he had used one. Or where he could have possibly shoved it in his mass cleaning frenzy. Jan also made it sound like it was normal to own more than one of them. Should he? He didn't usually keep flowers in his house. Maybe he should start.

“The kitchen perhaps?” Jan was making his way further into the house. Matt felt his heart jerk when the other stopped and looked carefully over a crowded bookshelf and the runway rug. “Forgive me, I haven’t complimented your home or properly said thank you for allowing me to stay. It’s very...” The pause felt too long. “Gezellig.” He was rolling his hand as he said it and Matt’s Dutch was no where near good enough to know what he meant. Jan must have noticed his silence so he continued. “Cozy, a warm ambiance.” He gestured back to the same bookcase that was stuffed with not only books but potted plants, knick-knacks, and framed photographs; he admired the yellow wood paneling and stone fireplace, complete with a full bench and red cushions to relax on. “Your home is friendly, personal.”

Matt hoped the breath of relief he let out wasn’t obvious. “Really, it’s no trouble. I want you to be here and thank you. I try to keep things simple.” Evidence that he inherited at least some of his father’s habit of hoarding were stuffed in the spare room that he no intentions of letting Jan see. “Do you want anything? I can make you some coffee and go over the plans for tomorrow.” 

“Coffee sounds wonderful. I’ll probably end up having an early evening tonight, it’s already past dinner at home. I’m glad the inauguration ceremony isn’t until 14:00.”

“More time to spend in bed together,” Matt hinted at, trying to keep the mood light.

“As much as I would like that, I think we’ll be needed before the festivities begin. However, I think an extra hour or two would be more than acceptable.”

The flowers were temporarily put in the sink with trimmed stems and fresh water, as, Matthew could not locate his one vase in any of the cabinets and assured Jan he must have used it in another room and stored it outside of its usual spot. Something they could worry about in a moment but could be put aside for now.

Matthew took note of how Jan liked his coffee, a small serving of milk to cool it down just enough with one teaspoon of sugar. He let Jan prepare his, letting him know that he liked two servings of both milk and sugar, though, sometimes would substitute that sugar for maple syrup that he insisted Jan should try sometime. He flushed a little when he was told he would be looking forward to tasting it during his stay.

They sat at Matt’s little worn kitchen table and talked about the upcoming events and all the official business that they were to take care of for the opening ceremonies tomorrow afternoon. It was distracting, allowing conversations about feelings and Matt’s living state to not be questioned. He had yet to pick up his drink, only absent mindedly stirring and watching the milk swirl in the rapidly cooling mug.

“750,000 flowers?” Jan asked, holding out one of the program guides. 

“Throughout the whole capital area,” Matthew quickly reassured, hand gripping the handle of the ceramic mug. “This isn’t... I mean- it’s not too much is it? I’ve been helping the Ottawa Board of Trade and Mr. Malak Karsh for the past year because people seemed to really love this. We get pictures in magazines and papers sent all throughout the country and we just wanted to do something special for all the flowers you send. It’s too much isn’t it? I just got invested in it and-”

Jan reached across the table, carefully taking Matthew’s fidgeting hands away from the mug before he ended up spilling the content over the table. “Matthew.” His voice was steady. Of course it was. Jan, even when his home faced the absolute worst of times, always kept a cool head and was able to guide and lead. “It’s not too much. I think what you’re doing is wonderful. I come to you with more flowers than you could possibly know what to do with and your people have made something beautiful with them. Ik heb voorpret.” He was gently running his thumb along the discolored scar by Matt’s thumb and again, he was ashamed at his only partial understanding of the language and he didn’t want to look stupid by asking. “Are you feeling alright? You don’t look like you slept well last night. Do you want to lay down for a little while?”

Fuck, fuck, he noticed. He had really hoped the glasses and multiple cups of coffee would hide it. He was now racking his brain if he remembered to shave or if he had given up on that to avoid nicking himself with shaking hands. What was he so worried about? He had been looking forward to this festival ever since the first breath of life it was given. He was more than ready to stand amongst hundred of thousands of bright colors in the spring sunshine and have the man he... adored? Cared for? Loved? He knew he wanted Jan next to him. He wanted to take long walks with him and just be beside him. He wanted to lay beside him and kiss him and feel pleasure deep in his bones that same way the winter winds would penetrate him. He wanted to feel happy and numb and stupidly euphoric.

Maybe he was afraid of him leaving. Maybe it was fear of his happiness depleting when all was said and done. When he would stand in those same beds of flowers and watch as their colors faded. The gentleness of light shadowed by clouds and fog. That residing fear deep in him that when this moment of joy was over, it wouldn’t come back.

Jan would see those clouds, those dark grey clouds that almost seemed to take permanent residence in Matthew’s head that pulled him under his covers and banks of snow. Those parts of him that shrunk away whenever Jan said something kind to him or did something for him just for the simple fact that Matthew existed. Some things were still in thanks for what he did for Jan and his people but it had nearly been a decade since. How much longer could that affection last?

For just this one week, he wanted to pretend all of this could last. For this one week, he wanted to live in ignorant bliss. He wanted Jan to himself. He wanted to love him so much but Matt wasn’t stupid and knew how this game went. Nations could pretend all they wanted they felt love the same way humans did but there were always strings attached. Always something to be gained or sought after. 

“Matthew?”

Jan was still holding his hand and Matt finally looked away from his cold drink at to the sudden burst of sunlight. A habit arose that caused him to over study the other’s face and his body language. He couldn’t find anything to make him feel so on edge, to make him feel the need to grab an umbrella and prepare for one of those springtime storms. It was only the freshness and liveliness of the season. It was only what made him enjoy this time of year. He stood from his seat to kiss the man, the other rising with him to continue the affection.

“I would absolutely love to lay down if you want to join me. I slept like shit last night.”

“You definitely look as much and yes, I wouldn’t mind laying down for a few minutes with you.”

After rinsing out their cups, Matt showed Jan to his bedroom and pointed out the bathroom and laundry, feeling like a terrible host as he realized he never took Jan’s suitcase. Matthew was just happy he had made his bed and closed all the drawers to his dresser as the suitcase was put away.

“You should be more careful.”

“I’m sorry?”

Jan placed the glasses he had dropped earlier onto his nightside, even being so kind as to wipe them clean with his shirt. “I know how bad your vision is. I wouldn’t want you to step on them by mistake.”

Matthew decided to smile and thank him, pushing at least that one worry from the front of his mind.

As he laid in bed with Jan just below him, eyes drooping as long fingers brushed his hair, he got the translation he wanted from earlier. “Voorpret is the joy of anticipation you feel before an event takes place, by the way. The happy jump your heart makes when remembering you have a date, or how you can’t fall asleep the night before a trip. It’s why I couldn’t sleep well last night either or on the plane over knowing I was going to see you.”

After having a nice hour of drifting off, holding desperately to Jan’s words, with his head still in the other’s lap, he was awoken with refreshed spirits and a tender kiss. He remembered he had stored his one vase in the hall closet and went to set it up nicely at his kitchen table. He was certain he would end up with more flowers by the end of the festival so maybe, a nice trip out to the shops to find a new vase would be a good idea.

Maybe Matthew could find a way to keep a little spring in his home year-round.

Maybe he hoped for this relationship to work, for it to be more than the ones he’d seen growing up.

As Jan lead him to the front door and those same beams of daylight came through the glass, highlighting the green and gold of his eyes, Matthew couldn’t help but stare in admiration. He buried his feeling of hope in his chest with a quiet thought of yes, I do love him.

Maybe he couldn’t wait for the day where that quiet little thought would turn into a whispered declaration. Later then, something for him to shout. Later still... a promise to hear as he fell asleep securely held and again as he awoke the next morning.

A forecast far too in advance to get a proper reading on but one that Matthew looked forward to throwing open the windows to let in that pleasant, uplifting air that announced the melting of winter.

[fivelakesinwriting]

can you do a barry one where you’re rafe and sarah’s sister and you’ve been sneaking barry into your room every night while you’re home from college bc your friends with benefits but when ward goes to give barry the money that rafe owes him he says something like “why don’t you ask your daughter who’s she’s been sneaking into her room every night. so ward comes home pissed to wake you up and ask you about it so you go to barry’s house and confront him and it leads to smut

Author's Notes: I wrote her as the Littlest Cameron from Ward's first marriage - because I kinda love that idea. All characters are 18+

Warnings: OBX Spoilers - Only for Season 1 (I assume we've all been there done that..) Swearing, Mentions of drugs/ drug debt, Guns, Sexual references - Sexual innuendos, Smutty.

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

For almost six weeks he had been sneaking into her bedroom at night, completely unseen to anyone. Not even the boy who spent the majority of his days on his couch, passed out or begging for a fix.

This time it was his turn to beg.

He crawled through the window - left open like always for him - and tossed his legs through in to her bedroom. He grunted when her body collided with his in the dark, sending him backwards towards the wall.

"We said 11pm. It's 11:17pm." She mumbled as she pressed on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Sorry. Got wrapped up in some shit. Thought I forgot?" He smirked as he hitched at the waist to wrap his arms around her, reciprocating her affection.

"Yes." She whispered into his shoulder as her fingertips curled into the material of his coveralls.

Barry only lifted her up in response, always amazed that a girl with a brother the size of Rafe Cameron could be so tiny. He carried her over to her bed and laid her on her back, crawling on top of her to take up the space between her thighs. He placed feather-light kisses down her neck, a smile on his face as she pulled at his coveralls.

"Hey, Tiny. I need to borrow some fucking cash. You don't still have that stupid piggy bank or some shit - what the fuck is this?" Rafe came stomping into her bedroom without knocking and flicked the lights on, his hands pushing all the trinkets and books off her dresser as he searched.

"Rafe, what the fuck! Knock first, asshole!" She screamed as she tossed a decorative pillow off her bed and towards her older brother who stood dumbfounded on the other side of her bedroom.

"The fuck is this? Why is he here?" Rafe questioned as he pointed his index finger at the older man on top of his younger sister.

"What's up, Country Club?" Barry smirked as he turned his face to look at Rafe, as if he weren't on top of his little sister.

"T.C, he has to leave. Now. I'm fucking serious." Rafe grumbled with a stern look, a pinch of his nostrils and then exited her bedroom with a slam of the door.

"T.C?" Barry grinned as he propped himself up on his arms above her and looked down at her embarrassed face.

"Tiny Cameron." She sighed as she pressed one hand to his lower back and the other to her forehead.

"That's cute. Shit's real cute. He take money from you a lot?" Barry asked as he leaned his weight on one forearm to run his fingertips over his top lip.

"Not a lot. Sometimes. Mostly takes it from dad, but he asks for money a lot more often now. I'm assuming it's to pay you." She replied softly.

"Some of it. Your brother got a nice new bike out there and he still runnin' up a tab with me, so..." Barry trailed as he placed his hand back down beside her on the bed.

"Don't get me started on that stupid dirt bike." She sighed as she rolled her head back on the sheets.

"Listen, I'm gonna go. I can hear him pacing outside that fucking door. But don't let him take your money, T.C." Barry winked before he gave her a quick kiss on her lips and pulled himself off the bed, heading back towards the window.

"Fuck you, Barry." She whined with a pout, sitting up on the bed to watch him leave.

"Next time." He grinned, flashing her his gold tooth.

*

It had been close to one week since the night Rafe had caught Barry in his little sister's room, and since then his debt had grown exponentially. Rafe felt overwhelmed and reckless as he entered the combination to his father's wall safe. Perhaps that's why he got caught.

"Dad, I swear I learned my lesson. Okay? Let's not do this. Please." Rafe begged from the front seat of his father's S.U.V as they idled out front of Barry's house.

"Stay in the car." Ward ordered as he unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door.

Ward Cameron walked up the dirt path, lit by the lights of his vehicle and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He saw the young man sitting at the fire pit, a bottle of liquor in his hand.

"Are you Barry?" He called as he opened his wallet and began to count the bills.

"Might be. You lost?" Barry asked as he took a swig of the whiskey in his hand and looked over the clean cut older man standing a few feet in front of him.

"No. My son Rafe owes you money. I'm here to pay his tab." Ward replied with a shake of his head as he pulled out the wad of cash, and folded it in half.

"Big Daddy Cameron, huh?" Barry smirked as he stood up from his chair and took a few steps towards Ward.

"That should cover it. Don't sell my son drugs anymore." Ward growled as he tossed the cash on the ground at Barry's feet and turned to walk away.

"Got no problem not selling drugs to your delinquent son. But it's your daughter who might have a problem staying away from me." Barry replied his stance strong as he watched Ward Cameron stop dead in his tracks, his back rigid.

"Sarah?" Ward asked as he turned around, his eyes wide as he looked the dealer up then down.

"You forget you have more than one daughter, don't you? Talking about the little one. Think Rafe calls her...T.C?" Barry replied as he pushed his hands into his pockets.

Ward Cameron ran a shaky hand over his beard as he continued to stare at Barry. He turned to leave, but changed his mind and stalked back over to him, and stood directly in front of the shorter man.

"Stay away from my family. My son and especially my daughter." Ward growled a finger pressed into Barry's chest before he turned on his heel and stomped back towards the S.U.V.

"Big Daddy Cameron." Barry scoffed with a shake of his head as he crouched down to pick up the bills on the ground. He knew he had just lit a match under the Cameron patriarch, but he was fine with it.

Back at Tannyhill Rafe walked quickly into the house and up the stairs, his head hung low as he blinked back tears. He walked passed each of his sisters' rooms towards his own, stopping at the one of the left.

"T.C, better gear up. Dad knows about Barry. He's coming upstairs. Fire is lit." Rafe grumbled with a sniff and then made his way towards his bedroom with a slam of his door.

"What do you mean dad knows about - Hi, daddy." She mumbled as she scrambled off the bed after her brother, only to be met in the doorway by a livid Ward Cameron.

"How long?" Ward asked as he tried to keep his voice even, despite the way his body shook with pure anger. He had one daughter running around on The Cut, a son stealing from him to pay for his drug habit, and now his other daughter - his baby - was sleeping with that drug dealer.

What had he done wrong?

"Since I got home from school. Rafe introduced us at a party." She replied softly, avoiding her father's gaze.

"Are you snorting that shit like Rafe is?" Ward asked, his voice just a whisper and terrified.

"No, dad. I'm not. I swear. It's not like that with Barry. He likes me. He likes me a lot, and we're just hanging out together." She replied quickly as she reached for her father, her hands on his wrists that hung at his sides.

"But you're sleeping with him." Ward scoffed with a glare down at her. So tiny. Just like her mother. Everything about her reminded him of his first wife.

"I...I mean, yes. We're sleeping together. I go and visit him, and he comes over here sometimes." She nodded with a squeeze of his wrists.

"T.C, he comes here? To my house?" Ward glared down at his daughter.

"Dad, I -"

"I can't look at you right now." Ward grumbled as he pulled his wrists from her grip, rubbed his face and walked out of her bedroom, down the hall to his office.

"Shit." She whispered, pushing her hands through her hair. She walked back into her room, over to her desk and grabbed her bag. She walked over to her window, slid it open as quietly as she could and climbed out.

The knock at Barry's door was a surprise. He was expecting no visitors. He slowly raised his body up from the tattered couch, grabbed his gun from the waistband of his pants and walked cautiously to the front door.

"What you want?" He yelled, gun raised.

"It's me, you ass." Her sad voice sobbed back with a slam of her fist against the door once again.

"Fuck." Barry sighed as he reached for the several locking mechanisms on his door and let her in.

"What the fuck did you say to my dad!" She cried with a push of his strong chest.

Barry stood in the doorway and took each hit to the chest. He knew he may have overstepped a boundary or two that night, telling Ward Cameron he was sleeping with his daughter. But, he didn't like to have people come up to his home uninvited, telling him what to do and who to see. So he bit back.

"Stop. Listen to me. He came over here with your brother in the car, tossed money at me and told me to stop selling to Rafe." Barry muttered as he grabbed her wrists then held them against his chest to keep her close.

"And what did you say?" She struggled in his arms and looked up at him with those eyes that were all Cameron. He wished he didn't like them so much.

"I told him that was fine, but he might have an issue keeping his little girl out of my bed." Barry replied with a slight smirk, his gold tooth taking hold of his bottom lip.

"That isn't funny, Barry." She pouted up at him as she struggled to pull her wrists from his grip.

"It's a little funny."

"My dad is livid, Barry! Rafe is holed up in bedroom doing and thinking who knows what. And I - " She pulled her wrists from his grasp and stepped into his small home, beginning to pace.

"They ain't an issue for you anymore. Rafe's tab is paid, and now Big Daddy Cameron knows about us. So, I don't know what's got your panties in such a twist. But you should take them off if they're bothering you so much." Barry muttered as he ran his fingertips over his top lip, and leaned against the door frame as he watched her.

"No. I'm mad at you." She whispered as she crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him with a furrowed brow.

"Nipples say otherwise." Barry muttered with a point to her chest, pushed up under her forearms.

"Don't!" She whined as she covered her breasts from his view.

She was mad at him. It was the first time in the few weeks they had been dating she had felt angry with him. She scowled as she looked him up then down as he stayed leaned up against the door frame. The both of them challenging the other to make the first move.

"Well, are you staying the night or did you just come to yell at me and flash your nipples in my fucking face?" Barry grunted as he pushed himself off the door frame and slowly made his way towards the back of the house, slipping his gun back in the waistband of his pants.

"They aren't in your face." She mumbled but followed him towards his bedroom with a shuffle of her feet.

Barry sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the gun from the waistband of his pants and placing it delicately on his nightstand. He spread his knees and beckoned her over with a wave of his hand.

"I'm mad at you." She stated with her arms crossed over her chest still, looking him over. She did as instructed, though, walking over to his slowly and stood between his knees.

"Well. I don't wanna be mad at you." Barry replied as he placed his hands on her hips to pull her against his chest.

"You shouldn't have said those things to my dad, Barry." She whispered as she uncrossed her arms and placed her palms on his shoulders.

"I was right, wasn't I? You busted out the house and now you're here with me, ain't you?" Barry grinned up at her as his fingertips pushed up the hem of her shirt to touch her skin, still warm from her bike ride over.

"Well, yeah. But that doesn't mean you have to say it to my dad. Asshole." She pouted as she slapped his chest playfully before she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I could have said way worse shit to him than that. Like how you liked to be tied up." Barry chuckled as he placed his hands on her backside and raised his eyebrows at her. He grabbed at her elbows, lifting her arms from around his neck and held her arms behind her back.

"Barry." She whined as she dropped her forehead to his.

"Guess I'll save that one for next time." Barry muttered as he kept his grip on her arms behind her back strong, but leaned in to press his lips to hers.

"Be nice to me." She pouted against his lips as she struggled weakly in his grip.

"No. You gotta make up for your dad coming in and fucking up my night." Barry smirked as he held her wrists behind her back with one hand as the other reached to the front of her shirt, pushing it beneath her breasts.

"I knew you had a daddy kink, Barry. But if you wanna fuck my dad that's a deal breaker for me." She grinned as she squirmed in his grip.

"Get on your hands and knees. Tiny Cameron." Barry growled as he let her wrists go and slapped her backside firmly.

"Ow! Fuck you." She whined as she crawled over his lap and onto the bed.

"About time." Barry mumbled as he stood up, turning the face the bed to see her back arched the way liked. He ran his thumb over his top lip and smiled softly to himself.

He wasn't going to stop selling to Rafe Cameron, that was something Rafe had to decide for himself. And he certainly wasn't going to stop seeing or sleeping with the girl currently in his bed, wiggling her ass at him for his attention.

Ward Cameron would have to kill him first.

Hottie List: @starkey-babie @sodasback @fashion-fasting @barrysjumpsuit @beauvibaby @professional-busboy @soph0864 @vinniehcker

*tag list still open if you'd like to be added - just let me know! Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much! xoxo

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!

[shycoconutt]

I Found My Light (Kakashi x Reader)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

A/n: Sound the alarms! It’s my first ever writing post! I’ve had this written for a while tbh, and I feel like I’m ready to start getting into this.

Summary: A late-night walk turns into a rekindled friendship.

Word Count: 2300

Warnings: fem!reader, SFW (but might not be later lol)

You opened your eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight. Staring at the white ceiling, you sighed. Sleep seemed to evade you recently, a side effect of the recent dreariness of your life. You found yourself living the same days over and over again. Because of this, the line between day and night started to fade.

The moon was full tonight, you noticed as it shined brightly through your open window. It was the perfect temperature out, warm but chilly enough to feel comfortable wrapped in your blankets. You love listening to the occasional sounds that occurred outside, the noise of leaves rustling in the wind being your favorite.

Your gaze left the moon and landed back on your ceiling. Why is something as simple as sleeping so hard? Gods, all you wanted was an escape. With a huff, you pushed the covers off of you and sat up from your lying position. Trying to force yourself to sleep would do more harm than good right now.

You make your way to your dresser and pull out your favorite pair of black joggers. You love them because they are tight on your ankles, loose on your legs, and have a cinched band at the waist. They are perfect for any lazy day. You slip them on over your underwear, you never go to bed with pants on, and exchange your sleep shirt for a cropped black hoodie made from the same soft, elastic material as your pants.

You turn to face your large standing mirror in the corner of the room to assess your appearance. The all-black look was your favorite, especially since it will help you blend into the night. Your hair was a mess, so you decided to put it up in a loose bun on the top of your head and pull out some strands to frame your face. It felt good to not look so polished and put together. Your jonin uniform was not the most comfortable piece of clothing, especially with the way it hit your figure.

You walked out of your bedroom and across the kitchen to the front door of your apartment. One foot after the other, you slide into your sandals and grab the key to your apartment hanging on the hook next to you. With that, you leave your apartment and head out into the night.

You walked the streets of Konoha at a gingerly pace. It was probably around 3 a.m. at this point, and there wasn’t a single soul on the street with you. You make your way past the line of shops on the main street, including your favorite bakery where you'd treat yourself to a lemon square after coming back from a long mission. You thought about that lemon square a lot when you were out risking your life, embarrassingly enough.

A couple of turns later and you found yourself heading towards your favorite place in all of Konoha, a little area of woods towards the perimeter that contained this amazing koi pond. Although it was nighttime and the fish wouldn’t be as active, you still want to check to see if you can watch any. To your surprise, your favorite koi, who you nicknamed “Nishi'', was out and swimming around by himself. You sit criss-cross in the grass and watch as he glides through the calm water, almost putting you in trance. Nishi didn’t look or act like the others; He was black with white, almost silver-looking spots and he was less frantic in nature. You sway from side to side as you watch him, thinking to yourself about how you would like to be more like Nishi.

“You look cute watching the koi.” You heard a soft, yet unwavering voice declare behind you.

“Holy sh-” You almost jump out of your pants at the unexpected presence. Surprised, you quickly turn your head around to see who’s voice that could possibly be. To your disbelief, there lies a figure perched up by a tree a couple yards away from you. Their feet were crossed, legs extended, one hand in the pocket of their pants, the other holding up what looks like a copy of Icha-Icha, head turned towards you, and wild hair moving with each passing breeze. How did I not notice him?

“Oh I’m sorry (y/n), I didn’t mean to startle you. I figured you knew I was here because you walked right past me.” He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his head and let out a small chuckle. “Guess I should have made my presence known right away.”

Still in disbelief, you get up and slowly make your way towards the figure, stepping into the shadow of the tree to see him more clearly. As you approached you immediately recognized the silver-haired jonin.

“Kakashi?” You say confused. “What are you doing out here? It’s late.”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He states, closing his book and setting it down next to him on the grass. He looked different. He looked… quite hot actually. The jonin uniform you usually saw him in was traded for a pair of comfortable-looking grey sweatpants and a tight, black tank top that connected to his mask. He wasn’t wearing his headband either, just keeping his left sharingan eye shut in a permanent wink. As you observed him, you couldn’t help but notice that he was doing the same to you.

“I suppose you're right.” You smirk and let out a small chuckle. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured that if I was up I should take a walk around the village to clear my head. This is my favorite spot, so I guess I just naturally ended up here.” You exclaimed, still standing in front of him.

“It looks like you and I are having the same issue,” he states plainly, “I came out here a little while ago after tossing in my bed for an hour. I hate trying to force myself to sleep; It’s a battle I never seem to win.” His eyes averted your gaze and moved to his now empty hands in his lap. You couldn’t help but notice a hint of pain in his voice and it tugged at your heartstrings.

You know about the things Kakashi has been through, as it was pretty common knowledge to all jonin in your mutual age group. You were pretty close with his friends, Gai, Kurenai, and Asuma, but Kakashi always seemed to keep everyone at an arm’s length. He also was an Anbu for ten years, which didn’t help the disconnect either. Fortunately, he was relieved from his Anbu position a couple weeks ago, and gradually you have been seeing him a bit more here and there. Though, this is the first time you are able to have a conversation with him in what seems like forever.

“Well,” you sighed, “I guess we have lost the battle together. We must be pretty shitty jonin.” You stated flatly.

Kakashi squinted his eyes and you both laughed. You couldn’t help but take a mental picture of his face at this moment. You really enjoy seeing him happy, as it makes you happy too.

You can’t kid yourself, having a chance to talk with Kakashi alone feels like such a treat. Little genin (y/n) would be ecstatic right now. Of course you had a crush on him back then, who didn’t?

“You’ve always had a natural talent for connecting with people,” Kakashi mused, “I haven’t talked to you since we were teenagers, and here I am laughing with you like we’re long-time friends.”

You could feel your eyebrows furrow at that statement. Yeah sure, you weren’t at his apartment every week for Sunday brunch, but you did have a history.

“Kakashi,” you started, “You are my long-time friend. Just because we drifted apart doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. To be honest, I was relieved when I found out you were no longer going to be a member of the Anbu. It wasn’t good for you.” You stepped closer and sat down next to him, leaning back on the tree stump. The grass felt cool under you, sending a small shiver up your body.

“I suppose you’re right,” Kakashi stated, quoting your words from earlier. “It amazes me that none of you gave up on me. I feel like I am undeserving of everyone’s effort.” You were baffled by his honesty; Kakashi wasn’t known to be much of an open book. It upsets you so much that he feels this way as you couldn’t imagine not caring about him or any of your other comrades in the village. The faces of your closest friends flashed through your mind and you grimaced at the thought of losing them.

Not knowing if you should, you felt compelled to reach over and hold Kakashi’s hand in yours. It's cold compared to the warmth spreading from your fingertips. Hmm, I wonder how long he has been out here. Giving his hand a small squeeze, you look at him in his onyx eye. “Trust me, Kakashi. You are deserving. You are deserving of a great life and people who care about you. I know the world may seem dark, but I promise that a light is always glowing. No matter how small or dim, it’s there.”

You stare at each other in silence for a moment before he changes the position of his hand and intertwines his fingers in yours. The change was small, but it ignites a feeling in your stomach you couldn’t describe. Slowly, you felt your cheeks flush and you turned your face to look towards the sky in hopes he wouldn’t notice. You knew this action was him telling you that he accepts your words, and thanks you for them.

You spent the next hour sitting under the tree together, you looking up at the stars and him looking at you. Your intertwined hands fell between your bodies, resting on the cool grass. You felt him start to graze the back of your hand with his thumb, sending a tingling sensation up your arm. It felt so good to be touched by him, even in such an innocent manner.

A strong breeze ran through the air and hit you suddenly. You began to shiver at the quick change in temperature, realizing that you should have dressed warmer if you were going to be out this long. Yet, you couldn’t have anticipated the situation you are currently in.

“Are you cold?” Kakashi questioned with a hint of concern.

“Yeah a little bit,” you answered honestly, “but I don’t want to go back home. I’m not really tired yet.” Truthfully, you didn’t want this little moment of shared bliss to end. You started to feel like you found your escape, and you refused to be torn away from it so soon.

“Neither do I,” he confessed, “Come here.” He released his hand from yours and slid his position higher up on the side of the tree. He then spread his legs and patted the ground in between, inviting you to sit.

You felt your face get hot again, as the position he was offering you was a very intimate gesture. There was absolutely no way you could refuse his offer. One, because you were freezing and, two, young (y/n) would never forgive you.

You got up and sat down carefully between his thighs, leaning until your back met his chest. He then wrapped both of his arms around you, one around your shoulders and the other around your waist with his hand resting on your stomach. The outsides of your legs met the insides of his and you felt an immediate warmth there. Lastly, your head tilted back and rested upon his left shoulder, with his face nuzzled against your temple. You both fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, no part of you feeling any discomfort against his strong body. Engulfed in his smell and warmth, for the first time in a while you felt completely relaxed.

“Thank you, Kakashi.” You looked up at him with a warm smile.

“Anytime.” He breathed, voice muffled by your hair. You wondered if he truly meant that. I mean, after all, this is the first time you have interacted in a while. Yet, the connection you felt towards him was unquestionable.

Does he feel the way I feel?

“Hey,” you began, “are you tired at all?”

He flexed his arms and held you closer to his chest. “Not really,” he answered, “I’m enjoying this moment too much to be tired.” You smiled, and there was a pause.

“Isn’t this odd?” you questioned again.

“What? You and I snuggled under a tree in a random corner of the village alone at 4 a.m. after we haven’t interacted with each other in years?” he questioned sarcastically, “Not at all.”

“Kakashi!,” you laughed, gently nudging your elbow into his ribs as he laughed along with you.

“Yeah it’s a little odd,” he answered honestly, “but I’m not going to question it. I found my light, and now I’m enjoying it.” He nuzzled his face into your hair and breathed deeply.

Completely and utterly relaxed, you let yourself succumb to the heaviness of your eyelids. Truthfully, this has felt like the longest day in the world and you are happy to end it this way. The sound of Kakashi’s breathing and the rise and fall of his chest acted as your personal sleep machine. It’s priceless.

Before you completely drift off, you swear you could feel the soft, pillowiness of Kakashi’s lips graze the skin of your temple, a soft hum escaping from them.

“Goodnight, (y/n)”

~~~

Queue Hilary Duff’s “What Dreams Are Made Of”. This kind of feels like the beginning of something. Should I continue? Idk if my writing is even good. If you read this, PLEASE let me know if you have any feedback. Again, this is my first story and I would greatly appreciate any feedback, advice, suggestions, etc.! I can’t believe I’m uploading, ah! - Klara

[halstudandruz]

Research Purposes ~ Part 3

*Gif: Not mine; credit to @thompsonconnors

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader/ Adam Ruzek x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happened after Adam catches you and Jay? Part 1 (18+) here /// Part 2 here

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I used some dialogue from S6E10, but the rest of the episode doesn’t pertain

A/N 2: Wouldn’t you all be pissed if I ended up putting the reader with Ruzek 😂

You and Jay were on his couch silently eating pizza and watching Hulu. Not having said very many words to each other in the last two hours.

“I didn’t want him to find out that way.” You eventually broke the silence. Jay reached for the remote pausing the show to turn and face you as you sat up away from where you were cuddled into his side. “I mean I wasn’t ecstatic about him sleeping with Hailey, but if he would’ve just told me and been upfront about it I think I could’ve handled it better.” You admitted.

“So you wouldn’t have slept with me in other words?” He joked making you chuckle.

“Oh I still would’ve done that.” You smiled.

“I think he just didn’t want to hurt you. You know Adam. That would have never been his intention.” Jay replied.

“Well no I don’t think he did it on purpose, but I just turned around and did the same thing to him. What if he thinks it was out of spite?” You sighed.

“You don’t have any obligations to each other any more, [Y/N].” Jay shook his head.

“I know it’s hard for you to understand, and it’s hard for me to explain to be honest. You have to remember we were engaged. It wasn’t some fling. Our relationship was serious. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to have a family with him, and when it ended it hurt like hell. I know I don’t have any obligation to him, but in order to see him everyday. Work with him everyday. There has to be a different kind of respect, a different kind of… regard for each other than we have with everyone else or it won’t work.” You tried to explain.

“Then why didn’t you just tell him about us?” Jay finally asked.

“Because I don’t even know what’s going on here.” You laughed, “I mean are we just fucking? Cause if that’s the case we should be doing a lot more of it.” You pointed out, reminding him how more and more nights have ended in just a cuddle session in his bed.

“You know I’m not good with emotions and saying how I feel, [Y/N].” He sighed, “I honestly didn’t expect for this to happen. One night of fun turned into wanting you here every night. Ya know? Regardless of whether it ended in us sleeping together or you just... in my arms.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Jay, if they go up in flames and Hailey comes running to you where does that leave me?” You eventually asked the question that had been pegging you for the last few weeks.

“You know that’s not fair to ask me when I could ask you the same thing.” He replied.

“You don’t think I know that?” You questioned, head falling into your hands, “I don’t know, Jay. Okay? I-I don’t know!”

“What are you saying?” He pushed.

“I’m saying maybe it shouldn’t be this hard.” You shook your head, emotions running through you, tense silence falling between you two again. “I’m really tired.” You admitted, leaning your head against the back of the couch.

“Alright come on let’s go to bed.” He stood up turning the tv off and moving to clean your plates up.

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” You asked, biting at your lip and he turned to give you an incredulous look.

“Why would you think I would want that? You know I sleep better with you beside me.” He replied making you smile, body feeling just a little bit lighter.

“Yeah me too.” You agreed, helping him clean a little before going through your bedtime routines comfortably. Sliding naturally into his body once you laid down.

“Goodnight, baby.” Jay whispered into your hair laying a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Goodnight.” You said, returning a light kiss onto his chest, nuzzling further into his arms.

“Come on [Y/N] you gotta get up.” Jay tried to wake you with soft kisses across your neck and shoulder. Groaning you didn’t move, “I promise I let you sleep as long as possible.”

“Can we just get my car registered for a spot already?” You whined.

“You’re the one that said that was and I quote “testing our luck and a waste of money.”” He teased.

“I will give my life savings for ten more minutes of sleep.” You replied, sinking further back into Jay’s warm chest.

“No, no, no!” He lectured rolling away from you.

“Ugh, fine.” You grumbled pulling yourself out of his bed turning to see him lying in only his boxers, “Are you trying to provoke me?” You gestured to his body causing him to chuckle.

“If I wanted to provoke you I could do a hell of a lot better than this.” He smirked, “Plus I already got my own shower this morning so no go.” He shooed you away getting up to riffle through his dresser. Rolling your eyes you trudged to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

The ride to the district was filled with a comfortable silence, the tension from the night before gone. He put his truck in park after pulling up behind your car.

“Just so you know I’m gonna stay at my place tonight.” You informed him, reaching for the door handle.

“What? Why?” He practically whined, but a nervous tone seeped in as well.

“Because I see you all day everyday and I would like to binge a carton of ice cream without your judging eyes on me the entire time.” You joked.

“I do not judge you.” He defended.

“Uh huh of course not babe. See you in a few.” You leaned over to give him a quick kiss before climbing out of the truck.

When you got to the district Trudy whistled to you summoning you over. You stood in front of it, hands clasped together on her desk. “Goodmorning.” You stated cautiously.

“Wanna tell me why rebel without a cause looks like someone pissed in his coffee this morning?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“No, I do not.” You replied.

“Well then just a friendly warning to step cautiously today.” She looked back down at her desk nodding her head towards the steps.

“Yeah..thanks Sarge.” You sighed moving to buzz in. You could feel the edginess when you entered the bullpen, but you couldn’t tell who else had noticed it. “Goodmorning.” You mumbled passing everyone on the way to your desk. Luckily everyone was able to work normally despite the obvious agitation in Adam’s demeanor, but per Platt’s advice you stayed out of his way as much as possible.

“Alright so we do it the old-fashioned way. Farm it off. Every beat cop and CTA worker, get every gang and tact unit across the city. If someone knows this guy, that picture’s gonna be enough to spark it. Ruzek, you run it past Mark.” Hank ordered before moving back into his office. Everyone nodded moving towards Jay’s desk to make plans. Adam moved off on his own and out of the corner of your eye you watched Hailey follow behind him. Sighing you looked back to Kevin making mental notes of the plan he was laying out to Jay.

“Alright let’s roll.” Kevin shrugged on his jacket when you heard yelling in the distance. The three of you exchanged confused glances before you easily picked up Adam’s voice.

“It’s Adam and Hailey. They’re downstairs.” You informed the two men, detouring your route to hurrying down the steps, their voices only getting louder as you made your way towards them.

“I’m not gonna talk about policing with you again!” Adam’s distinct voice carried.

“I care about you, I care about you and I-“ Hailey fought back, stopping to turn when she noticed the three of you enter the room.

“We can hear you guys in the stairwell. What the hell are you doing?” Jay asked, looking between the two. Hailey looking guilty and Adam standing at defense, restlessness clear in his frame, from more than just the conversation you were guessing.

“Nothing. It’s fine. Sorry.” Hailey cleared her throat, shaking her head.

“You cannot be having this conversation here. It’s not the time or place.” Jay warned, glancing back up the steps.

“Oh but it’s a perfectly fine place for you to stick your tongue down [Y/N]’s throat?” Adam bit back and you watched Hailey’s eyes go wide flicking between all of you.

“What?” She asked and the look in her eyes at the information pinged a feeling of jealousy deep in your stomach.

“Oh yeah you didn’t know?” Adam took a step towards Jay, anger radiating off of him.

“Watch yourself. Who do you think you're talking to?” Jay straightened his body, jaw clenched.

“I’m not scared of you, Halstead. I’m not some rookie straight out of the academy anymore.” Adam pointed out.

“All of you, cool it.” Kevin whispered harshly stepping between the two men, ”unless you want Voight to find out whatever is going on here I suggest you all get back to what you were supposed to be doing.” He ordered. Adam threw you a cold glare before maneuvering around Kevin and heading up the stairs.

“We’re supposed to be out securing an ID.” Jay grumbled stalking out of the door, Hailey following behind slowly.

“To be a fly on the wall in that car.” Kevin winced looking back to you.

“Yeah.” You laughed dryly. Starting to walk towards the parking lot.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” He tried to reassure you once he slipped into the driver's seat, starting the engine. Kevin knew more of what was going on then anybody else did. You and him had been partners in crime since your first day at the district and even before that in the academy. Your partnership was comfortable and he knew you better than most people. You had each other’s backs always, and even though he was best friends with Adam, who had without a doubt been chirping in his ear about his discovery the night prior, Kevin always remained neutral. So, you knew he would lay it straight for you. He found out about you and Jay the Monday after it had happened. You were pretty good at hiding stuff, but not with him. He could read you like a book.

“This is such a fucking mess.” You huffed watching out the window.

“Well I’m certainly not going to tell you you’re wrong there.” He agreed blatantly, “You should’ve been more careful.”

“You don’t think I know that, Kev? But it’s done now. He knows and I have to find a way to deal with it. I don’t even understand why he’s so mad. He’s doing the same thing with her, and I didn’t act like a jealous teenager when I found out. What he just did was unnecessary.” You sighed heavily knowing that there was more to the story. “I know he’s going through more than just this. I can tell this case is getting to him and he’s struggling and honestly it kills me that I can’t be there for him. It kills me every time I can’t help him through it. I miss him and what we had, but maybe it is for the best. But.. I don’t fucking know! How am I supposed to know?” You slammed a fist against the dashboard and Kevin didn’t even flinch. Adam was impulsive and had a short fuse, but what had happened a few minutes prior was not something Adam would do on a normal day.

“So, what are going to do about it?” Kevin asked looking over at you expectantly, but all that came was silence. You didn’t know. Did Adam still want to be with you? Was that why he was so angry or was it just a lingering reaction? If he was jealous, if this thing between you the two of you was still a possibility then what? Plus Hailey knew now. What if that pushed her in a direction you didn’t want her to go? Maybe it opened her eyes. Maybe she was confessing her feelings to Jay right now in his truck and that scared you. An uncomfortable selfish feeling radiated through your body at the thought. The unknown was starting to terrify you. The possibilities, the factors, all of it was too much and you weren’t sure how it was going to play out.

You had finished the case getting out of the district at a decent time that day. Which you were glad for. The room was starting to feel too small. You needed space to breathe and room to think. Which is exactly what you did. For hours until you came to a conclusion. You loved both of them, but in the end you knew who you wanted, who you needed.

You couldn’t keep dragging them around like this. Dragging yourself around like this. You were going to figure it out and you were going to face it head on. Walking up to his door your heart was racing. You had already made up your mind, but that didn’t mean you weren’t scared to actually face it. Taking a deep breath your knuckles lightly rapped the door. How were you supposed to tell someone you loved you didn’t want to be with them? Shifting on your feet you couldn’t help, but chew on your lip, anxiety only heightening when the door swung open.

“We need to talk.”

All Taglist:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3 @wanniiieeee

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda @sofferderynnp

Taglist for series: @miranda0102 @5sos-imagine @5hundreddaysofsummer @a-f-f-a-n-c-u-l-o