#and after two years i can finally listen to those songs again without triggering some shit

[azertyhug]

king for a day by pierce the veil featuring kellin quinn *heart eyes* *soul ascends* *brain explodes* *skips song*

[oonajaeadira]

If You Will Let My Heaven Touch Your Stars (Ezra x f!reader)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: FLUFFY SMUT. INSPIRED BY THIS. Non-explicit oral (m and f receiving). Formatting may be strange in certain Tumblr themes due to paragraph spacing with the poetry.

A/N: Okay, y’all. I was looking for another reason to write some Ezra. I got inspired by this naughty confessional post and felt the need to rise to the challenge, but make it a bit soft. You know I’m allergic to writing physical doings without some emotional yearnings. So it has come to this. And I’m not sorry.

Summary: Ezra runs his mouth over some poetry. You run your mouth over some Ezra.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

_______________________________

You know that sigh. It will be shortly followed by a gravelly, dissatisfied “hm.”

“Hm.” 

Next will come the impatient flipping of pages as Ezra learns that the book he’s chosen from the stack he got in trade on the Pug is…”less than literary and more than malignant.”

“What’cha reading, Ez.” The main node on the electropulse generator blew during the last harvest and you’ve been doing your best to repair it for the better part of the scaling period. Better to keep eyes on the electrics than let them wander over to his bedroll where he’s stripped to his skivvies, propped up against a crate, reading.

The rotation of Ranakh-4 is almost sixty hours, and in the north hemisphere there’s always light. Should be perfect for prospectors to take shifts and get things done, but instead, it creates a scaling period--a good fifteen-hour window of intense heat and sunlight that’s too dangerous to be exposed to for long, causing lots of nasty side effects. Including skin scaling. Hence the name. So during that period you and Ezra hide in the cooled tent, sleeping, polishing gems, maintaining equipment, wasting time, and generally trying not to annoy each other too much.

That’s a joke between you. In the years you’ve known him, Ez has yet to get under your skin. Ezra’s usually up for a game of dice or five-stand during scaling period, and if you’ve got gear to clean or inventory to count, he’s good for a story. Or ten.

But after the third rotation he stopped playing games of chance with you and his stories got gradually less... crusty. He still had a lot to say, but he stuck mostly to mining anecdotes, weaving around salacious details and editing himself in the moment.

And you’re pretty sure you know why.

This isn’t the first posting you’ve had with Ezra.

There was the assignment on Phintreas. The job on TG-19. The second assignment on Phintreas--that one it was just the two of you. Just like this one. 

There was a moment near the end of that run when you took a break from digging to stretch, arching your back in the dappled sunlight and pulling your arms up and back toward the thick foliage tops. There were singing insectoid creatures on Phintreas and you’d dropped your wrists to your head to listen to their song a little, closing your eyes and hearing in their hum the chords of a song you used to love.

It was just a few seconds, the warm air on your bare shoulders, the long thin trees--actually large grass--rising and swaying above. A pleasant stretch in your lower back. But there was something off. Your ears were full of insect song but there was something missing. 

The sound of Ezra’s digging had stopped.

You turned to find him taking a break, leaning on his shovel, jumpsuit open and pulled down to a knot at his waist like yours. Dirt-streaked arms and undershirt, looking at you, staring with sad eyes, the long slopes of his mustache running into his patchy beard making him look like he was pouting more than he was. Probably. Totally lost in thought, his eyes slid down your torso. When he woke to the fact that you caught him using you as a backdrop for reverie, he didn’t even have the balls to be embarrassed. Just realigned his focus on his shovel and went back to digging, the veins straining out on his big hands.

“You okay, Ez?”

“As well as one can be, sweetheart. I feel we’re close. It is a fine day full of wonderments.”

You’d thought about that look in the days afterward. Didn’t really know what it meant for you. Until the final sleep cycle on that grass planet, the wind traveling through the fields making the grasses sing hollow and low in the night. 

“What’cha reading, Ez?” You’d come to learn that it was a magic question, one that not only got you an explanation, but perhaps a chapter or two in his baritone twang.

And that night, as you packed your final bag, he swung the spine around to read out, “Papas Cordel, Love Verses.”

He didn’t ask you if you wanted to hear any. He just started to read.

Softly. Slowly. The words were innocuous on their own but their combination was sinful, his voice melting at the back of your brain, lifting the fine hairs of your neck, slithering down your spine before making an orbit to press upon your core and vibrate there. 

He never said goodnight. Just read you a few poems full of worship and yearning in that sonorous voice of his, then rolled over and went to sleep. It left you in a panic, trying to control your breathing, in full understanding of what that look from a few days ago had really meant.

And for the duration of your next couple of jobs you spent some time in regret, wishing you’d decoded your feelings sooner or that he’d made his own clearer. You’d vowed that if you ever had the chance to go back and live that night again you wouldn’t hesitate to….what? To do what? You never got that far. Didn’t matter. Time doesn’t go backwards. After a while, it was easy enough to convince yourself that you’d just read too much into it, that you didn’t really feel anything and neither did Ez. He had just been tired and staring into space that day. And he’d just been aesthetically moved by the song of the grasses in the night wind. It was a trick of the light, and the more you rationalized it, the further the memory slipped into the realm of silly fantasy.

So when this assignment came, you’d had time enough to leave the fantasy behind and met Ezra as you always had--as a friend and a damn talented prospector you were happy to dig with. The man always got his haul and getting paired with him always meant profit.

It only took one scaling period to make you realize you were lying to yourself. 

Scaling period means getting somewhere shaded and cooled and making yourself as comfortable as possible. Which means stripping down to essentials. All those dice games trying not to look at Ezra’s broad, bared chest, looking up from a hand of cards to find his eyes quickly darting away from you…. By the third rotation you’d noticed that neither of you could make eye contact with the other anymore and after that, Ezra generally spent his downtime during scaling periods laying on his bedroll in his skivvs, reading one of the dozen books he’d scavenged back on the station.

You weren’t sure if you were flattered or embarrassed or even injured that he wouldn’t move on whatever he was tense about. But, ultimately, this arrangement was easier.

Or so you lied to yourself.

A “what’cha reading, Ez” got you a few chapters of an old time-travel adventure or a philosophical treatise on the life of some forgotten pioneer while you mended a garment or recounted the supply of viable drill bits or tried to fix the damn faulty electropulse generator for the millionth time. Something rollicking and full of resonance to keep your ears busy and your mind distracted while you focused your eyes on anything but Ezra’s bronze skin and sable eyes and full lips and big hands and thick thighs and--

This time he clicks his tongue and runs a hand through his hair, humming a high note in a kind of frustrated laugh. “I won’t devastate your ears on this one, sweetheart. Not much of interest here but some poor soul ruttin’ and scraping for talent that eludes them. How this found its way into a thing to be bought and sold I will never understand.”

And yet, he keeps reading. Silently.

After a few minutes and another wire successfully cleaned and reconnected, you repeat yourself, taunting him.

“What’cha reading, Ez.”

“Mm.” He just flips through a few more pages, refusing to answer.

“Hey.” You chuckle into your work. “What’cha reading.” 

You hear a huge intake of breath before a hold and a forced release.

“Wow,” you laugh. “Fine. Don’t waste breath on it. Just tell me which one it is so I can avoid it later.”

“Love and other Stars by Aeon Aido Raja.”

“I see. What’s it about?”

“Sadly, it is about a poet who cannot seem to make the match between words and sentiment; a volume of supposed amorous verse.”

“Amorous verse,” your hands stop working on their own. “Love...poetry?” There’s a sudden flashback to the sound of hollow reeds and soothing verses in the night. The words are a program in your brain, overwriting your inhibition and professionalism, pushing you to a deeply-coded goal to calm the flutter in your chest.

“So it claims. Although I fear it lacks full understanding of both--” His voice cuts out as he realizes you’ve stood and you’re moving toward him and his wide eyes lock to yours as you sit beside him on the bedroll. “Now what has gotten into you, sweetheart?”

You know exactly what’s gotten into you. The triggered wish of returning to that night, the built-up tension of dancing around each other in your underwear, trying to deny what’s going on, watching him purposefully respect you when you know he feels something, when he knows you do too--

What was it you were going to do if you had a chance to go back to that last night on the grass planet? Time to find out.

“Read to me.”

Ezra hesitates, unsure. “This?”

“Read it.”

His eyes flick down to follow the quick fold of your lips as you wet them with your tongue, unconsciously mimicking you, before fumbling his gaze back to the book and, with a regretful sigh, begins.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

When he looks for your reaction, you’re not sure if he’s pleading with you for permission to stop or continue.

Shit. He’s right. It isn’t great. But you’re here now, you’re going to make the most of it.

“That’s not...so bad.” And then you find out what you would have done that night--or at least how you’d start--by showing him your raised palm, lowering it slowly toward him. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Your hand travels down through the air, just to the inch above his skivvs, waiting a moment in the aura of radiated heat there, before settling lightly over him. He never says no, never takes his eyes from yours, the only reaction coming from a small lift in his chest, the corner of his mouth curling just a fraction, and the fabric beneath your hand quickly becoming the only thing there to qualify as soft.

“Sweetheart, what you’re beginning here--”

“The only words I want from you are that poem. I want to hear you read. You stop, I stop.”

The heat hangs heavy between you, burns beneath your hand. And with a huffed exhale, Ezra starts again.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

Supporting him from underneath, you’ve begun running your thumb up and down him, and his breath hitches, bringing him to a stop. So you stop.

“You stop, I stop, Ez.”

“Believe me, gentle one, I do not wish the impediment of your affections--”

“Then don’t stop.”

In a beautiful panic, Ezra looks back to the poem. “You sure you want this one?”

You nod. “I don’t care how good it is. That’s the poem I want. Keep going. I've always liked your voice. I know you can make it pretty.”

He stares at the page a moment, and you push him--literally--gasping into a start.

“If ever I could tell you When my heaven touched your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

You stop palming him when he stops to breathe, and it’s only when you trace his waistband with your fingertips that he swallows and continues, willing you to keep going--

“Waking in the night to the aching void of your embrace-- Can you forgive me if I plead your name? If I summon you to my body from wherever you are?”

Whether it’s the want in his voice or just getting further into the words, the poem is already getting better. His eyebrows begin to push together and arch, as you stretch the top of his underwear down, wrapping your hand around him. His words start riding the occasional groan which just resonate with you more and you rock yourself against the bedroll in time with your gentle, yearning pulls--

“You hold me adroitly With accurate proximity To keep your breath and my breath Two founts and one pool. To swim a in star-reflective stream of our holy recreation--”

He’s doing so well, the words wandering out deep and breathy, so beautifully controlled...until you lower your mouth to him.

Then there’s a strangled staccato grunt as he adjusts, takes a couple of quick breaths and continues--

“But your body is a.....wildfire Your lips a destruction And I give my everything over to your….cleansing devastation.”

Oh, his struggle is glorious. You can feel him trying not to buck, needing to blow out a breath between pursed lips here and there to concentrate on the print. He reads with intent, leaning into context and feeling, making a gift to you of every word.

“I have yearned for you to find me worthy of a spark An ignition... The rebirth of your combustible attentions.”

He pauses again to breathe, and while you allow him a small reprieve, he’s stopped a little too long and you abruptly halt. When you pull back to look up in reprimand, he gives you a soft smile through his panting, shaking his head in wonder. You know he’ll have plenty of praises when this is over, but he doesn’t seem to want to break the spell to say them now. When you return his little smile, he looks back to the page and continues, prompting you to return to your own administrations.

“How you draw from me each sweet effusion-- Every secret vein untapped-- Now yours in expert execution, Now open to your burning maw.”

He pushes through the poetry rather than into you, allowing you to hear him and match him. Your body begins to counter-react as you feel him brimming, turning on more need in you than you’ve felt in a while, and you show him just how well he’s doing by doing well by him. 

There’s a shift in his voice as more breath enters in and nonverbal noises begin to punctuate the words; a shift in his body as his fingers tangle in your hair and grip tightly, suggesting a final rhythm-- 

“But within the fire An aperture of...divine precipitation Where those of us who live untouched Can go to drown To die To howl…..! To see the blessed face of eternity Or the….busting open….of a thousand….wretched….stars-- You-call-me-to-sinful-prayer You-invoke-my-abject-soul I find myself in debt…!...and thrall…!... to your superior…!...divinity--”

When he stops reading this round, you show mercy as he pounds his fist into the bedroll and makes his own additions to the poem, exclamations made up of your name and curses and calls to higher powers. You can only expect a man to expel from himself wondrously one method at a time, and Ezra’s earned his reward so beautifully.

Damn his opinion. The poem was perfect. You chose correctly. Either that, or Ez’s tongue really can spin any old refuse into gold.

But the book is still held high, and as you lift from him and guide him through his aftershocks with your hand, he breathes heavy though the final verse--

“This is how I love you from afar With agony and forlorn words While you hover forever in my purview A shaft of dazzling incandescence Shining down from your sun/star Through the glass of my desire Starts and restarts an everlasting blaze”

Then, setting the book reverently on the bedroll, he takes your face in his hands, dragging his thumbs across your lips, no longer needing the page for the last lines.

“If ever I could tell you And if you will let my heaven touch your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

Ezra’s kiss is achingly grateful. He tries to put into one kiss the loving equivalent of everything you’ve just done for him.

When he pulls back, he gives you the tiniest rough shake, a punctuation of his playful consternation. “Mmm,” he grunts. “While I am glad to know you find my recitals pleasing, you’re about to find out that my talent for oral ministrations do not stop at mere recitation.” With a miner’s strong arms he flips you over him onto the bedroll, making short work of your underwear and pinning your legs around his shoulders in a matter of seconds. “Now, I will not be so cruel as to make you put words to my reciprocation, unless you’d like to fill the silence to direct me to your will. Or say what you please. I will not be able to add to the conversation as I will be otherwise occupied.”

You don’t know if it’s years of running his mouth or wagging his tongue or yapping his jaw, but he’s well practiced in using allllll the muscles therein to help finish what poetry couldn’t quite accomplish.

At one point you think of surprising him and trying your own hand at reading while being entertained. But when you fumble for the book, it opens to the same poem.

But not the same poem.

The opening lines are there: “I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--Walking through the light of a moon in decline--Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

And that’s it.

That’s where it ends. The whole published poem--a mere seven lines.

Oh, Kevva. That’s...that means….

Damn, Ezra. The mouth on you.

The book drops to the bedroll.

And you break into pieces as his heaven masterfully consumes your stars.

________________

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

Taglist: @melobee @extraterrestrialdork @14mcmd1122 @grogusmum @cannedsoupsucks

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 10

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader.

GIF: I do not own this GIF.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

I do not own any pictures, name, brand, song titles or anything that I used in this story.

All chapters

The three of you are finally back at the hotel. As soon as you got there, you went to your room to get ready. So is Lizzie in hers. When you are ready, you go right away to the girls’ room. You knocked on the door, and for some reason you slightly wish that Lizzie’s face would slowly show up as the door is opening but like usual it was Aubrey’s smile the first thing you see. “Hey.” Aubrey moves to the side as she opens the door wider for you to come in. “Hey Aubrey.” You unconsciously smiled in slight disappointment.

You do not mind at all that it's always Aubrey who opens the door for you. She is your good friend, really. You just start to think why is it always Aubrey? Is it just a coincidence or not really? Does she hate you so much that she is avoiding you at all cost? Oh well, why does it matter anyway? Why did you wish it was Lizzie who opens the door for you just now? There’s nothing special to it. The hatred is mutual. You were probably just concerned about her anyway after seeing her cry, you think it’s just a normal nice gesture if you are wondering how she was doing.  but again it’s none of your business. Your mind juggling all of those thoughts in such a short time triggers a quick rush in your mind.

Your eyes secretly look for Lizzie. You try to do it in the most subtle way so Aubrey won’t notice while both of you walk to the living room and sit down on the couch. “She is inside, still getting ready, Y/n.” Aubrey told you as if she can read your mind. “Huh?” Surprised with her statement just now, you got caught off guard and that was all you can say. You curse yourself in your mind for being too obvious.

“I know those eyes,y/n. You can’t lie to me. Your eyes’ movement. You were searching for her.” Aubrey teased with a knowing smile. “No, I wasn’t!” You denied instantly. “Yes you were, Y/n.” She convinced you in a playful tone. “No,I wasn’t!” You shout in a whisper. You feel warm on your cheeks and ears. “Okay, y/n. You were not.” She agreed in a playful sarcasm. “Tell that to your blushing cheeks.” She mumbles under her breath and rolls her eyes at the same time.

“What Aubrey?” You asked. “Oh nothing.” She smiled.

Aubrey slouch on the couch yet you sit next to her awkwardly straight up with your hands keep tapping your knees like they are a set of percussion. “So, how is she doing? Do you think she already feels better?” Your voice is almost like a whisper when you ask her as you don’t want Lizzie to hear it.

“Hmm. Care much, are you Ms. Y/L/N?” Once again, She always finds the chance to tease you about Lizzie. “Seriously? I asked just because that’s the right thing to do as a human being towards another.” You lifted an eyebrow as you tackled her tease once more. “You know what? Just forget I asked.” You added with a discomfort tone.

Aubrey giggled. “Geez, I was just joking. I think she’s feeling better but she still hates you.” She answered as she tried to hold a laugh teasing you. “Well, that, I don’t need to ask you, I already know. The whole world knows how much she hates me.” You shook your head. She giggles.

“So you are coming with us right?” You asked the girl next to you. “Nuh-uh. I’m not coming. I need to take a break from both of you and your arguments.” the brunette answers while her eyes locked on the TV. “Ouch. Are we that annoying?” You put your hand on your chest and act like you are hurt by what she said. “You guys are not annoying, I love both of you. You guys are just too funny for me to watch but I can’t say anything yet because both of you are too stubborn to listen to me and that’s annoying.” She said nonchalantly with a small smirk.

“What’s too funny about it? And what can’t you say yet? Tell me.” You jokingly push her shoulder. “Oh nothing. I have my own theory, you’ll know it next time.” She patched a meaningful smile. “Oh yeah? Probably a stupid theory?” You jokingly make fun of her. “Whatever y/n.” She giggles.

“Hey, y/n. I just want to say sorry. Honestly, I was the one who gave Lizzie the idea of giving you hell when you are working with her but I didn’t know it was you until she told me your name. Please don’t hate me.” Aubrey’s face showed remorse. “So, you are the one that makes my life a hell? Wow Aubrey. Thanks.” You said it in a playful tone.

“So you are not mad at me?” Aubrey looks relieved. “Nah,it’s okay. I figured anyway. You are forgiven.” You winked at her. “Gosh, y/n I thought you were serious.” She giggles. 

Lizzie comes out to the living room. “What are you giggling about Aubrey?” Then she notices you are there. “Oh.” That was all she said before she went back into the bedroom. A few minutes later, you notice that both of you need to leave not to be late. “Ms. Olsen, we have to go now. We can’t be late.” You told her from the living room. “Gosh y/n, Okay! Okay!.” She let out a harsh breath as she came out. “Bye Aubrey, I’ll see you later.” Lizzie yells as she walks out the suite room. You stand up, wave goodbye at Aubrey, and follow her .

_____

Both sitting on each side of the back seat, the car ride without Aubrey was silent. Just pure silence but you both taking turns on getting caught stealing glances at each other. You really don’t know why you have the urge to ask how she is doing while you know she for sure is not comfortable if you ask her that. You are just her assistant and her personal life is definitely none of your business.  Luckily, you both finally arrived at the location.

The photoshoot starts right away after her make up and wardrobe is ready. Everything is going well with the photoshoot until the last session with the last wardrobe, Sophie who is incharge of makeup and wardrobe had to leave early for a family emergency. Thank goodness, it is the last session, Lizzie just has to change to the last dress, do some shots and they can call it a day. Sophie asked if you can help with the last dress as she showed you which one and said you can just hang the dress once Lizzie’s done and you have no problem with it.

You wait for Lizzie outside the changing room to make sure everything is okay. You heard her softly grunts and curse under her breath. “Ms. Olsen, are you okay?” You heard other soft grunts. “I’m okay. Can you call Sophie please?” Lizzie asked, not knowing that the french lady already left. “Um, she left. She’s not here. Do you need help?”

“What do you mean she left?” She asked in surprise and confusion. “Yeah, she has a family emergency.” You explained. “I need help with the dress.” She asked from the other side of the wall. “I can help you.”

“No, not you. Is there somebody else who can help me?” She asked in a slightly irritated tone. “Yes, there’s Stefan, Andre, Antoine, Oh and there’s Claude.” You named all the crews that’s there who happen to be all males. “I meant a female one, y/n.” She opened the door a little, peek through the small open space and asked in annoyance.

“Yes, Her name is y/n. The only female here besides you.” You answered in a flat sarcastic tone, in emotionless face expression. “Like it or not, I'm the only one to help you.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Fine.” She groans and lets you in while trying her best to cover her body shyly. 

“Y/n, look the other way. Don't look over here.” She demanded. “How am I gonna help you if I have to look away?” You furrowed your eyebrows. She is in this red see-through sheer dress with some floral laces on some body parts that need to be covered with it but on the upper body part it looks like a beautiful corset. She turned around, her back facing you with the dress unzipped leaving her bareback exposed. You can see from the mirror in front of her, both of her hands crossed in front of her dress covered breast to hold the dress so as not to fall. She lowered her head, her face facing down.

The curve line from the back of her neck to her bareback with no bra straps whatsoever yet slightly covered with some strains of her long blonde hair was visible to you, the zipper slider body was way low on her lowest back, almost to her natural perfect size buttocks with the line of her g-string peeking out a little bit. Her peach-cream with a light hint of tanned skin colors look so flawless. Too perfect that no pores are visible.

You swallow your nervous feeling down, try hard to stop staring before she pulls her head up. No, you definitely don’t want her to notice that. “Okay,so you just need me to zip this up right?” You clear your throat. “Uh y-yeah.” You notice that she sounds nervous. 

“Okay. I’ll zip it up. Just pull the rest of your hair up so it won’t get caught in the zipper.” “She nodded, and her right hand grabbed the rest of her hair. The dress is slim-fitted, perfectly designed for her heavenly figure. You tried to pull the zip up by the pull tab but it was a little difficult to do, so you pulled it by the slider body. You tried to get a grip of it, your index finger is between her body and the dress. The tightness of the dress makes the tip of your finger slightly touch her skin. Both of you were surprised by it. You noticed her body jolted even in the very slightest movements when she felt the tip of your finger touch her skin.

You try to ignore the awkward feelings in the air, and you pull the zipper up slowly because you are afraid to ruin the dress. The room fell silent. The silence breaks down all barriers and makes you able to hear her breath hitch softly right when the tip of your finger lands on her bareskin slowly brushes her skin from the lowest part of her back slide up to the bottom of her back neck between her shoulders along her spine. Your eyes follow the zipper up and you lift your head higher to find her reflection in the mirror, her eyes closed and her lips slightly open as she slowly exhales.

“Uh-It’s all zipped up now.” You see her in the mirror standing there beautifully in the dress. She lifts up her head but as soon as her gaze locks with yours, she awkwardly turns her head sideways instantly. Meanwhile you are still hypnotized with the beauty in front of you.

“Take a picture. It will last longer.” Her voice brought you back to your consciousness. “I’m sorry?” You asked as you tried to recall what she was saying, unfortunately you didn’t pay attention at all. “I said, take a picture. It will last longer.” She repeated in annoyance.

“Oh. Uh, N-No, thank you. I’m good.” You answered quickly to hide your nervousness then you realized you picked the worst answer. You internally screamed at yourself for choosing such an answer but oh well, it is what it is. She was chagrined when you answered nonchalantly. She then walked out of the changing room and continued with the photoshoot.

As luck would have it, someone came to cover Sophie and help with the rest so both of you won’t have to deal with another insanely awkward encounter like earlier in the changing room.

______

Both of you are on the way back to the hotel now. After what happened in the changing room, it’s even more awkward to sit with her in the back seat even though there’s enough space in the middle space between you two. You tried to get busy to distract yourself, checking out work related things in your phone or notes and also answered a work call. You are talking french on the phone, Lizzie figured it’s from the magazine company. Lizzie took the chance that was laid in front of her to give yet another glance at you while you weren’t paying attention. 

Every single glance she threw seems to move up slowly. From your crossed leg then to your thigh and she noticed you are wearing ripped distressed jeans that show some part of your skin with your right hand on it. She glances again at your slender fingers with your polished short but not too short nails. She then realized she might glance too long (or more like staring). Mercifully, you still don’t notice what she’s doing.

She finally regains control of herself and stops herself from stealing glances at you then turns her head to watch the street of Paris through the window but that doesn’t stop her wondering what is happening with her at this moment. The more she wonders the more she gets irritated because she can’t figure it out.

Ch. 11

Taglist: @madamevirgo , @musicinourlips​ (Let me know if you want to be added in the tag list.)

[douxie-casperan]

Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

~

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart 

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

L.o.v.e.l.e.s.s. generation

Request: Amazing!! Can i ask for a billy hargrove imagine where he and the reader are together and at a party. They separate for like an hour so he goes with his friends for a while and shes with hers and she gets roofied. Steve and nancy try to help her and then call billy and hes a mess trying to get her to throw up and hes just blabbering and crying and mad af. So much angst and then fluff and yeah. 

@peakascum​ i’m so sorry for taking so looooong. 

words: 7.4 k

Summary: Billy has a bad feeling about a party at Tina’s and you don’t trust your gut feeling because of a kiss, Nancy can kick some ass and both, you and Billy, are the kind of people who cry in the shower. 

Warnings: *trigger warning* We have dark shit here, like pls people if any of your friends get too drunk or you think someone has put something in their drink GO TO THE HOSPITAL. Don’t follow the characters behaviour down below.

billy hargrove masterlist

"There’s a party at Tina’s tonight”, you muttered after disconnecting your lips from Billy’s, who had been more than happy on your make-out session in the parking lot of Hawkins High. 

You fluttered your eyes to watch your hot, hot, boyfriend who was perfectly placed between your legs while he kissed you softly. You weren’t sure how Billy kept his glowing tan all year long, especially in Hawkins but you loved how it combined with his blue electric eyes that pierced you every time he watched you. You removed some of the blonde locks falling on his forehead and placed another kiss on his full lips. 

Sometimes you didn’t know how you managed to snatch him. 

He sighed, “I heard, are you sure you want to go?”, he groaned as he tried to chase your lips once more but you stopped him as you jumped from the hood of the blue Camaro. 

“When does Billy Hargrove rejects a party?”, you asked while raising your brows. You picked up your bag from the floor and began fixing your skirt and sweater, you had to be ready for the debate team meeting while he rolled his eyes. 

You smiled but you turned around as you heard a couple of girls from Billy’s friend group nattering about you from afar as they saw Billy pulling you in once more for another kiss. 

See, how could you even start to recount your relationship with Billy Hargrove? it was hard. Not because it was a difficult relationship, but because you two seemed so different from the outside that sometimes people didn’t even believe that you had lasted so long in the first place. Billy and you had been going strong for over eight months now and it felt like you were on cloud nine. 

He was mesmerized by you since his first day of school, he wasted no time in asking you for a date -to the disapproval of his new gang and the dismay of most of the girls at the school- you were elated by it but you said that he needed to do a lot more if he wanted you to say yes. It wasn’t that you weren’t oblivious to Billy’s charm but you knew his type and he was definitely not on yours. 

Billy didn’t seem more than an aggressive jog and you bore those type of guys, they weren’t stimulating and you had learned to value yourself and your time, more than anything else. So, it took Billy time -with a lot of rejected attempts and multiple pairings on classes- to actually get a yes from you. 

And so, you had come to learn that Billy Hargrove was more than he showed and it hit you to the core because you did the same. They were just different acts, both of you were familiar with the fact that people liked to put tags on others, to label them and keep them in a box, they liked making you one dimensional for them to feel comforted in a stupid status quo. And both of you followed swiftly because sometimes is easier to play a role than to be yourself, it’s easier to make people believe you are one thing. Sometimes it was easier to be just a good girl and sometimes it was easier to be just a bully, but you weren’t that and neither was Billy. 

Billy Hargrove wore his heart on his sleeve and no one had noticed that, you instead kept it locked in a safe to survive and no one had noticed that. 

But Billy noticed your lock and you noticed his sleeve, he understood you and you understood him. 

After hours or even whole nights talking to each other, laughing, even crying you finally agreed to go out with him. 

“I always want to do whatever you want to do”, he whispered to your lips as he pressed quick pecks. You sighed into his lips; eyes closed in bliss as his lips touched yours. “Pick you at nine?”

You smiled as you heard him and your lips now were chasing his. 

…

“See you in an hour or so?”, you asked as you opened the door for Tina’s house, Billy was behind you. Both of you were analyzing the scene in front of you. 

There were a lot of people, far more than what you were expecting but it was the last Friday before Thanksgiving break so you kinda got it. Many of the kids that went away for college were coming back to see their families and since Tina’s parties were always a staple of Hawkins High, you knew most of them wouldn’t miss it. So, there it was: an ocean of sweaty and drunk teenagers and young adults having fun and blasting music.  

You turned around to see a frown on Billy’s face as he saw the scene while you rolled your eyes. You didn’t really know why he was so opposed to partying when he was always down for any type of rave. 

See, although both of you were so similar in many senses, it wasn’t at all the case when you were partying. Billy was the type of guy who liked the attention, he craved it and he found it most of the time in senseless partying. While you, you were the type of girl who liked to be lowkey about your presence at a party, if you had the attention it was from your amazing dancing skills. Otherwise, you liked to spend your parties taking a few shots, dancing, and talking to your friends; nothing more and nothing less. Billy, instead, liked to do his keg stands and playing games, getting a bit more than tipsy. 

Most of the time you were together months of your relationship you both had made sacrifices, sometimes Billy wouldn’t do his normal circus act so he could be in a more calm conversation with you, and sometimes you had decided to cheer him when he was doing his keg stands or accomplishing the dares his stupid friends wanted him to do.

And it was fine, except for the fact that you had exploded one Monday a few months ago when you heard the rumors about the past party, especially the rumor about the “Queen of Hawkins” and how everyone was beginning to think that you were nothing more than a pretty thing that Billy wore around his arm, an accessory. You hated it, you hated it so much that you had ended up ranting about it to Billy who had been patient and listened to every single word without saying much. 

“I’m fucking captain of the debate team, since when I’m an accessory?”, “I’m running for president of the student council, does it look like I care about being Queen of Hawkins?”, “I’m not clingy or sticking to you all the time, it was just one party!”

And so, you had come up with the party plan. It was really simple: As soon as you got to the party, each one would go and do their thing. Billy would go out and play games while you hang out with Steve and Nancy and Johnathan. If there were any good songs or if you were craving each other presences, you would find each other and would dance for a couple of songs or maybe have a little (long) time out inside any room available where you could moan each other’s name. It had worked on the parties that you had gone to for the last few months and it had been fine, most of the time after you found each other you wouldn’t let go.

Today had to be no different, another party at Tina’s, usual business. 

But you knew it wasn’t, Billy turned around to see you with narrowed blue electric eyes, brows bumped together in a scowl and lips pressed together. 

“Billy?”

“I’m not really feeling like partying”, he muttered as he sighed and took a hold of your waist and pulled your flesh against his. 

Sometimes you were more than sure that Billy’s arms were made perfectly for you, you loved being held by him, and feeling like nothing in the world could hurt you. Being held by his biceps and pressed against him always made your heart skip a bit, you didn’t even think twice as you quickly took a hold of his face and you pressed your lips urgently against his, making you whimper into his lips. It was intoxicating the dance between your lips and tongues, you sometimes even got dizzy after kissing Billy but you were more than happy to get drunk on him rather than on vodka. 

But today you wanted to hang out with Nancy, Johnathan, and Steve, you hadn’t been seeing them much since school started again since, well, Billy was a handful. 

“I’ll see you later sir”, you whispered as you gave him the last peck and walked away from him with a smile on your lips. 

Billy stayed stunned after a few seconds and cursed to himself but he knew that you were in the mood for partying and the least he could do was give you space to be by yourself, to have times with your friends. He didn’t want to admit it but he had taken a lot of your time the past few weeks, he had wanted to take advantage of his father leaving Hawkins for a work trip, so he had spent most of his time buried inside of you or sleeping next to you or laughing with you, etc. And he wanted tonight to be no different, but he also respected you and your wishes. So, although he wasn’t too excited, he managed himself. He quickly threatened his way to get a whole bottle of tequila and went outside where Tommy and Carol were waiting for him already. 

“You look stunning!”, Nancy gasped as she saw you, you twirl so they could give a look at your outfit: A tight black leather skirt, military boots, and a cutout band t-shirt from Billy. 

Steve and Jonathan cheered for you as you moved your hips and Nancy clapped, while you then twirl her around for her to model her outfit. 

“You look stunning all the time!”, you replied as you hugged Nancy. 

“That’s indeed true”, Johnathan muttered as he pulled in Nancy for a kiss on her forehead while she wrapped one arm around him, quickly pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Steve rolled his eyes as he got closer to you, “Are we going to dance?”, he whispered in your ear and it made you shiver. 

You couldn’t lie that you had a thing for Steve when you were younger than you were less than thrilled when he started dating Nancy but as time passed, your feelings had changed and Steve became just a great friend in your eyes. Although, it didn’t mean that sometimes Billy didn’t get jealous of him and how close you two were. But he had come to accept it, as he should, and Steve also started to deal with Billy by your request since he didn’t really like him after he had dethroned him as King of Hawkins. 

“Yes, we are”, you replied and quickly pulled Steve into the living room where everyone else was dancing. 

The way you felt the music cruising through your body made you get lost on it, eyes closed and jumping, swaying your hips to the beat, laughing, and smiling all along. Should I stay or Should I go from The Clash was the tenth song you had danced to with Steve and you were sweating from bopping your head to the last bit, throat a little bit sore from screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs. 

Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. “I forgot how good it was to dance with you, Y/L/N”, you nodded without much breath but you turned around to see one of the boys from Billy’s group watching you with malice. The narrowed eyes and puckered lips weren’t anything new for you, especially from his “friends” or followers, but you knew how much they would like to initiate any rumor that could create any drama in Hawkins since they didn’t have anything more exciting to do. 

“I’m going to get something to drink”, you muttered as you glared at the loser who had been watching Steve and you, but soon he turned to the patio, where you imagined Billy was. 

You rolled your eyes; you knew you had to do damage control with Billy. Although Billy seemed like he had all the confidence in the world, you knew deep down he was insecure thanks to his relationship with his father, and especially, as months had passed by, he was insecure about your relationship sometimes. It seemed to him that you could do so much better and he was perpetually on edge when he thought about you and Steve too much, although he trusted you completely. 

And on your part, it wasn’t too different, Billy had girls throwing themselves at him permanently which was always annoying, girls who whispered at him that they would make him feel so much better than you ever did and that they wished he could make them scream. Billy had assured you and showed you that he only had eyes with you, and it did become funny sometimes because if there was someone in love with his girlfriend was Billy Hargrove. But still, sometimes that burning feeling that crept its way your heart and spread it through your body, making you feel like you could spitfire didn’t go away.

Especially not at the moment. 

Billy was outside, playing a nice game of beer pong and chugging more beer than you thought he would like tonight, but there he was… with Heather freaking Miller. She was leaning into a flustered Billy as she giggled while he poured the beer on his mouth, a little bit too fast that it made the drink spill all over his naked chest -he always lost some buttons or his shirt at some point in a party-, you imagined that he was a bit tipsy at the moment but you couldn’t help to feel your stomach twisting as you saw Heather pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. 

You spun on your heels faster than you could even imagine, not even wanting to watch Billy’s reaction to her kiss and if you had been a bit drunker, you might have been bold enough to start going off at her and Billy. But you weren’t in the mood, to hell if Billy was told something about Steve, whatever. 

“You said something?”, a guy in the kitchen asked you, as you leaned on the kitchen island in front of the living room that served as the dance floor, realizing that you had been muttering out loud. There weren’t many people in the kitchen, the great majority of the people were dancing or outside, but there were two boys. 

You huffed as you turned around and saw the guy. He had short brown hair and a nice smile as he sipped from his red solo cup. He looked familiar and you remember him being a cheer on after a basketball game while you were a Sophomore at Hawkins High and he was a Senior. He was from an affluent family, you remembered that as well as you might have seen him in one of your parent's Christmas parties, but you weren’t social. 

“Do I know you?”, you asked a bit coldly, annoyed still at the image of Heather and Billy. 

“Burn!”, another boy close to the one that had just talked to you shouted as he laughed at his friend. You recognized him too, he was also known as a Senior when you were in Sophomore, he wasn’t on any team but he was on the popular crowd. 

You vaguely remember the class that had graduated that year, only remembered a few bullying incidents but mostly that they were sexist assholes. You hoped that college had changed them, at least you liked to believe people could mature, but seeing them three years later in a party of their high school didn’t give you much hope.

“I’m Brad”, the boy with short brown hair stated as you sighed and smiled, trying to be as polite as you could taking into account how mad you were. “This is Chad”, he said pointing to his friend. 

“Y/N”, you answer as you shook his hand as he had offered it. 

He held it for a bit too long and you felt goosebumps erupting on your skin, but they weren’t good goosebumps, the way he was looking at you was way too intently but you figured that he was trying to flirt and score a girl. 

“Brad! I just…”, another boy came from the living room with a bottle of tequila in his hand as the three of you turned around to watch him, you took the opportunity and removed your hand from his hold as your eyes began to look for some wine or vodka to take to Steve. “Who’s that?”, the same guy muttered as he got closer to Brad and Chad. 

“Shut up, Logan”, Brad rolled his eyes as he saw you reaching for a bottle of vodka, he quickly took it and then handed it to you with a strange smile. “You have to apologize, my friends, they are…”

“Wonderful?”, Logan said with a smirk.

“Charming?”, Chad answer as he seemed to be taking something from his Varsity Jacket, you didn’t manage to see really what he had since Brad quickly placed solo red cups for you to do shots in, blocking the view.

“Annoying”, he stated as he poured a bit of the vodka on two small cups and then passed the bottle to his friends. You smile at the way he said it, the guy had a charm but there was still a hint of something you didn’t like. Something that didn’t add up to his pretty greyish eyes or his sharp jaw. “Want one round?”

You sighed and nodded. At the moment, you only wanted a drink and don’t think a lot about Billy and Heather, you didn’t want to be too mad about it, especially since it was your idea to do a party plan and you left the road wide open for girls like Heather to flirt with Billy. 

It felt like it was your fault. 

“Sure”

The vodka burned your throat a little bit more than you would imagine but you didn’t care. It tasted okay enough and your eyes simply wondered towards the patio door, in the hopes that Billy might come looking for you but there was no sign of him coming. 

“You have a boyfriend?”, you heard Brad asking and you turned around as you passed a hand through your hair. You watched as Brad’s friends began pouring another round of shots with the vodka but your attention went right to Brad again. 

“I do, he’s with another girl at the patio”, you muttered angrily as you took a hold of the shot and chugged it right in. The vodka still burned on your throat but it now felt bubbly, still burned a bit more than before but you figured it was because you hadn’t been drinking in a while.  

“Ooh”, the two friends shouted and it made you roll your eyes, they weren’t being good company and you tried to snatch the bottle of vodka from the table where they had left it but Brad took it first. 

“Let’s do two more rounds, it will make you feel better”, he cooed as he got closer to you. 

If this was any other moment, at any other party, you would’ve said no and leave without a bottle and look for Billy. But the blonde hair from Heather on Billy’s shoulder, his laugh, and her lips on his jaw were burned on your head at the moment and you wished that maybe vodka could help you, you wished that angry drinking would be enough to make you feel better. 

“Fine”, you answer with a smirk and Brad smiled as well, his friends cheering in the background as you chugged another shot that had been served by you. 

It had to be almost four more rounds of shots of vodka -at least you believed but it didn’t taste like vodka after the second- that they had handed to you when you began to feel weird. 

It began slowly, the sleepiness taking over your body, spreading from your belly towards your chest, and soon it seemed to get on your head. It didn’t feel bad right away, simply weird. You were never a hard drinker, you had never blackout before and you weren’t planning to tonight. Getting tipsy? Yes, getting drunk? Maybe, but this felt like it was happening faster than what you had anticipated. 

You closed your eyes and leaned into the kitchen island for a second, trying to recover your breath to see if that was it, you just needed a little break. But as seconds passed, you felt your muscles getting sleepier and even when your eyes were closed, you felt like you were on a carrousel and it wasn’t stopping. 

“You don’t look so good”, you heard Brad said as he wrapped his arm around your waist, which you tried to get off but it seemed as if your muscles were going in slow motion. “You want to go to the bathroom?”

You felt like you could vomit at his questions, it sounded wrong. You shook your head as you opened your eyes and glared at him, motioning for him to let you go and he did, but as you turned around everything began to be blurry. 

“Iwanttodance”, you slurred, words tumbling against each other. You began walking towards the living room, trying to get away from the kitchen while you desperately tried to look for Nancy, Johnathan, or Steve. 

You felt your head getting dizzier and dizzier as each second passed, your brain seemed to be trying so hard for your limbs to move at the pace that you needed them too but they felt disconnected like there was a short-circuit between them.  

You weren’t sure when they had actually disconnected, it had to be a second before you reached the living room by going down simply two steps. It was something you were sure you could accomplish, not even on your worst drunk stories you had been so unaware of your body, you had never felt like that. So, it wasn’t a surprise when you saw the world turning upside down and you felt a sharp pain on the right side of your body, your head crashing on the floor as you closed your eyes from the impact. 

You fell, badly. 

You whimpered in pain as you felt people’s gaze on you, although you had your eyes closed you could feel people’s presence close to you and you wish you could even stand up but it seemed like nothing worked and you could only motion simple things You heard a couple of people laughing, guessing that maybe you were too drunk and were unable to handle your booze. You felt some girls getting closer to you and asking if you were okay but your words weren’t really words anymore, only mumbles, the pangs of pain still spreading through your torso, hips, and legs while the numbness started to spread as well. 

 It was even getting hard to keep your eyes open for too long. 

Before you knew it, someone was wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you off the ground. You prayed it was Billy or Steve, with Nancy by their side or even a couple of the girls who had been asking if you were okay. 

“Seems like she’s ready to go to sleep”

You froze as you heard Brad’s voice and a deep feeling of panic started invading your body. You protested, at least you thought but your words didn’t come out from your mouth, your eyes were still close as the pangs of pain from the fall were disappearing quite quickly, which made you worry. 

Brad quickly took a hold of your body and carried you bride-style to god knows where, you suddenly felt your stomach sinking as you realized how weak you were and the fact that you were in the hands of strangers. Sleepiness crawling over your body and anxiety too, everything began to become foggy. 

“We’ll take care good care of you” Logan stated as you felt the music farther and farther away.  

You whimpered in protest as you opened your eyes as you tried to shimmy yourself out of his hold but it just came as spams on your limps, nothing strong enough and it seemed like they were going through the foyer, towards the door. 

“Stop”

Nancy’s voice felt like it had been sent from the sky, you tried to turn your head as quickly as you could and there she was.  “Who are you?”, she asked as she got closer to you. 

You knew Nancy might be little, she might have been a little mousy when you met her but she was fierce and she could end anyone who came on her way. Such a small girl could raise hell if she decided to and you felt like crying with happiness when you -in a blur- watched her crossed her arms across her chest and glare at the guys she was standing in front of.

“She’s feeling bad”, Brad explained with a shrug but the sassy nature of his answer gave him away to Nancy, “She had a lot to drink and she told us to get her home”

“She has a boyfriend for that”, Nancy replied right away angrily. “And friends that know her”

“We are her friends”, he barked back and it made you jump on your inside. 

These guys were aggressive, the way that he answered to Nancy… you felt like tears were pooling in your eyes. This was not okay and panic raised again, flooding your body. You needed Nancy to take you away from their paws, now. You didn’t want to think where this was going if she didn’t manage to stop them. 

“Nancy” you managed to mumble and with all the effort you had, you tried to take a hold of her but your arm gave up before you reached her, soon your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your head fell backward.

You were too weak. 

Nancy froze for a second with fear as she saw your state, and so hell was loose. 

“Get her down now!”, Nancy’s growl made your body tremble, it was so loud that you were hoping that anyone else noticed. 

“Fuck you”, Chad replied as you heard a struggle in front of you… they were holding Nancy now as Brad began to move again, your heart sinking 

“Her boyfriend is being called right now!”, Nancy yelled as you could hear her struggling while you passed in front of her. 

The cold air hit you hard and you cried as you tried to move from Brad’s hold but he wouldn’t budge, they had managed to sneak you and this was the worst-case scenario. Billy was the only thing you thought before your brain began to shut down when you began to drown in the darkness. 

“We shouldn’t have given her so many”, Logan muttered as he opened the door of the car that was parked in the front patio of Tina’s house, close to many others. 

“Can you just shut up?”, Brad growled as he tightened the hold on your body, and tried to see how he could fit you in the car correctly. 

“Maybe it’s better”, Logan muttered as he opened the driver’s door, still talking to himself. “She won’t remember anything”

“WHERE IS SHE?”

The growl coming from the main door from the house shook Brad and Logan to the core. They both turned around to see Billy, exiting the party with Steve and Nancy behind him. 

Billy had been trying to get a Heather Miller off his back since he had started to play a beer-pong match, it had all been easy and messing around until Heather had come in and began to linger closer to Billy each time he drank. She had placed a kiss on his jaw when he had barked at her to back off, people began to laugh around them and scream things, Heather seemed to be annoyed by the statement and tried to talk him out of being so aggressive. Billy remained silent and shrugged her off each time she tried to flirt with him again, it was annoying to him and he knew that his friends would take any chance to start a rumor that could affect your relationship. So, the rest of the time he tried to get as far away from Heather as he possibly could, he even flipped her off before Steve had run towards him and ask him to go with him.  

Billy felt as if a black hole had grown in his stomach as Steve told him what had happened, that some guys were trying to take you somewhere and that you were barely conscious, that Nancy was trying to hold them back but you needed him now. 

Billy wasn’t exactly sure how fast he had arrived, how he didn’t even notice the guy on the floor that Nancy had managed to beat up with a flower vase at the foyer or how he couldn’t hear anything because his heart and breathing were so loud that he could only focus on what he saw. 

And there you were: completely limp, head falling from Brad’s arm, eyes rolled back on the back of your head. You seemed so small; it shook Billy.

Sometimes Billy had these gaps in time when he became so mad that he didn’t feel like himself anymore, he could only feel the anger filling his body as the seconds passed. It was almost automatic when his hands formed into fists and he began to growl. You had talked to him about it and had helped him to never lose control again since you began dating, helping him breathe and control his emotions. 

But not this time. 

Billy yelled as he took Logan first. The guy didn’t even have a second before Billy yanked the keys out of his hands and smashed the boy’s head against the window of the car. Billy didn’t really notice when the window cracked, he only noticed when it broke in front of him as he smashed once again Logan’s head. 

Logan fell on the ground with a groan, blood coming out of the right side of his face, laying with the broken glass on the floor. Billy then turned around quickly to go and get you, Brad had already been cornered by Steve and Nancy while Johnathan tried to rip you off from Brad’s hold. 

“HEY!”, someone yelled as he pushed Billy making him slam against the car door. 

Billy turned around to see Chad, nose already bloody from Nancy’s punch and more coming out of his eyebrow cut thanks to the vase. The guy was already beaten up by Nancy, badly, but Billy didn’t hesitate to beat him to a pulp with his fist. It seemed rather like a gap of time where Billy had no control, as his knuckles slammed against the guy's jaw while he screamed in pain. Chad managed to punch Billy on his ribs but Billy quickly retaliated and knocked him out with a single punch. 

Billy’s breathing was too shaken up, he almost couldn’t even hear how Nancy had been telling him to stop as he kept kicking the guy on the ground. It was only until Nancy hit him in the back of his head, rather hard, that he turned around. 

“We got her”, Nancy yelled at him as she glared at Billy. She didn’t seem too shaken up, her hands were bloody as well and her eyes seemed steady. 

Billy’s eyes traveled to Steve who had you in his arms while Johnathan let Brad fall from his hold against the car, his nose was already bloody, as well as his lips. But at the moment, Billy didn’t care about anything else, he got closer to you so quickly that he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

“Y/N”, he whispered as tears began to stream from his face. 

You didn’t respond, your eyes with long lashes were closed while your arm was dangling. You were cold, you usually got cold as Billy would work as a heater for you, but right now you were too cold. 

It hurt. 

Billy swore he had heard something breaking inside of his chest, he sucked in a breath as he pressed your cheek with his palm as if in any moment you would open your eyes again, that you would watch him lovingly and place a kiss on his lips like many times before but you didn’t react, you seemed lost. 

It hurt him so much that when he heard a groan coming from the floor, he saw Brad there with barely any real damage on him. Billy felt his muscles tensing up as he walked towards him, ignoring Nancy’s pleas. Billy seemed like a robot as he quickly opened again the door of the car and place Brad’s hand on the edge, without much thought, he shut the door roughly.

“aaaaAAHHH!!”

The painful scream coming from Brad’s lips shocked Nancy and Steve, and even you in your state. The scream had been the only thing that had managed to make you come back from the darkness, you couldn’t really move but your body was screaming for something to happen but your limbs seemed useless. 

Billy quickly kneeled and punch Brad again, making his nose bleed even more. The groans and whimpers coming from Brad didn’t bother Billy, it only bothered him when he wrapped one hand around Brad’s neck and he noticed his knuckles already getting purple. 

He hated being like this. He knew you would disapprove if you had been there watching him but the rage that he was feeling at the moment, he hadn’t felt it in such a long time that if he thought he remained still, he would burst. 

“I see you or your rat friend’s again, and I’ll kill you”, Billy murmured as he let go of Brad’s neck and allowed him to breathe again as he coughed thanks to the pressure Billy had on him.

Billy turned around to see Nancy, Steve, and Johnathan looking terrified, he tried to shake it off and came back to you. 

“They must have roofied her”, Johnathan explained as Billy was desperately trying to wake you up. 

“Y/N, please are you there?”, Billy couldn’t believe it was his voice, so wobbly and small as he moved your hair from your face and took a hold of you had, begging internally for you to wake up. 

You couldn’t believe it was his voice either, you wanted to scream and cry, you wanted to be held by him and feel safe again. But you couldn’t do anything, you could only beg your body to move, nudge, talk, do something. 

And it seemed as if it had listened to you for a moment. 

“Billy”, the whisper was so faint that Billy wasn’t sure it was real, he stopped dead on his track and saw how your glassy eyes were half opened and Billy felt his shaking hands coming over to your hand. 

But then you suddenly gave up, the darkness eating you once again as your eyes rolled to the back of your head once more and you were lying there, emotionless. 

Billy felt his body cold. 

“Y/N?”, Billy asked as tears streamed down once more. “Baby?”, Billy’s voice was so raw and shaken up that it almost scared Nancy as he looked at her and yelled. “Nancy, what should we do?” 

Nancy stayed still for a second, doubting herself but then she walked decidedly towards Steve who was holding your body. “We have to check her breathing and her heartbeat”, Jonathan coming right up helping her to check your vitals, while Billy gave a step back and held your cold hand. 

“She’s still breathing, it’s like she fell asleep”, Nancy answered.

“We have to take her to a hospital”, Steve stated as he held you tighter on his arms. 

Billy panicked and shook his head, knowing exactly that -even though your parents had come to accept your relationship- they wouldn’t waste a second if he gave them a reason to break you guys up. 

“Her parents would know; you know they would never let her see me again”, Billy explained to Steve, his eyes pleading with him not to do it because he knew what the consequences were and he might ruin what made you and Billy happy.  

Steve didn’t like Billy, but he had never seen him like this or anyone for that matter. He had never seen such true desperation; he had never seen someone show such raw emotions for someone. He didn’t like Billy, but you did and Steve knew that Billy was everything you wanted. 

“Fuck, what should we do?”, Johnathan sighed as Billy began taking you from Steve’s arms. 

Billy remained a second as he adjusted you in his arms, his arms around you securely as he watched you carefully. You seemed so pale and fragile, and he hated it because he knew that this wasn’t you. He couldn’t get out of his head how scared you must’ve been before you went out, what they had done to you. He wanted to take you to the hospital, he knew it was the most appropriate way but he also knew that he really couldn’t and at that moment he had a flashback to California when people took more pills than they should. 

“She’s going to have to throw this up”. Billy stated as he tried to wipe the tears with his shoulder as he took you into the house, as quickly as he could. 

“Billy, what are yo-”, Nancy protested as she followed him but Billy was on a mission, 

“She couldn’t have taken them too long ago”, he muttered as he entered Tina’s house.

He was shaking as he muttered to himself deliriously: you are going to be okay; you are going to be okay; you are going to be okay. He pulled you closer to his chest and his eyes urgently tried to find a bathroom, people were gathering around him at the entrance of the party, watching Billy splattered with blood and knuckles purple with you limp on his arms. Billy didn’t care about the people as he tried to see where was it better to take you, he even wondered if the kitchen was right but he knew you wouldn’t want anyone to see you or him in that state. 

Tina ran towards him, as she was about to speak Billy interrupted her.

“Tina!” He screamed, his voice was raw and torn -the urgency in his electric blue eyes seemed almost psychotic-, she shook at his scream. “Bathroom with a shower”

“Oh my god, what happened?”, Tina squealed as she tried to get closer but Billy stepped back. 

“Bathroom”, he growled once more startling Tina. 

“Upstairs in my room! Turn to the left”

Billy said nothing as he ran upstairs, adjusting you in his arms as he followed Tina’s instructions. He let out an all-encompassing sigh of relief as he entered the bathroom. 

“Come on, come on baby”, he whispered as he placed you on the tub and then turned on the shower. The lukewarm water began to wash your legs and lower abdomen as Billy hurried and placed himself behind you. 

He made sure that you were well position, laying on his chest so he could sit you, and then he began to place his fingers on your throat. But nothing was happening, you weren’t reacting as he tried to place his fingers on the right spot for you to throw up whatever they had given to you. 

Tears began to fall from his face, a part of him glad they were being masked with the drops of water. Billy felt like he wanted to puke himself as he gazed at the bottom of the bathtub and realized the blood was being mixed with the water -blood from the guys that he had beaten up and his own coming from his knuckles-. 

He shivered at the thought of how badly he had reacted and what would you think of him, but he quickly snapped out of it as he continued to cry for you. 

“Y/N please”, he cried. “Baby please, come on”.

Billy’s voice seemed so broken and raw, his pleas could be heard by Steve and Jonathan who were outside the bathroom while Nancy was talking to Tina outside her bedroom, convincing her not to enter until you were okay. 

But you weren’t okay, nothing was happening and Billy snapped. 

“pLEASE! Y/N”, it seemed as if his screamed had ripped through his chest as he held you, and once more, he placed his fingers on your throat in one last attempt. 

The gagging was like music to his ears, how your body finally reacted and you raised a bit from his chest with the help of Billy and you began to throw up. You felt like if you were getting out every organ inside of you as your body spammed as you threw up with Billy’s face bury on your neck as he held you. 

It wasn’t until you finally stopped after a minute of throwing up everything you could, that you realized that the fogginess and darkness that had trapped you were leaving, your head was clearing again and Billy felt like he could breathe. It wasn’t like you were completely fine, your breaths were still raggedy but they were stronger than before and you could raise your head for a second, hold yourself. 

You could hold yourself enough to throw up once more, another round, but this time it felt more like a reaction of the fear that you felt from those guys. You didn’t want anything inside of you, nothing from that night, the thought of those guys made you sick. 

It wasn’t until you were unable to throw up anything else, you turn around softly, still feeling woozy. 

And there he was, the only one you had ever wanted. 

Billy’s hair was wet, the streams of water were still falling from his body but you recognize his tears as well. His blue electric eyes that had always been heaven to you, were red from crying and his usually tan skin seemed as white as a paper, completely pale, he looked terrified. 

Indeed, Billy was terrified but he tried not to show it as he caressed your hair and help you lay more comfortably on his chest. It was only when your eyes connected and you took a big breath that you began to cry. The tears were streaming without control from your eyes and it seemed like before, you just wanted to feel empty and clean and safe. Billy held you as close to him as he could while you sob.

He kissed your head, he kissed the back of your neck and your hands as you whimpered and tried to hold anything from him, the craving of him becoming stronger every second. 

“Hold me”, you slurred and Billy nodded, wrapping his arm around your body as you cuddle against him while being wash with the water. 

“I’m so sorry”, Billy whispered as he rocked you back and forth. “I’ll never leave again”

His voice sounded so truthful that you began to think that he meant something for good, so permanently that it made your heart skip a bit but you didn’t want to say anything, you simply nodded and leaned into him even more, burying yourself against his chest. 

“I love you”, he whispered. 

[egcdeath]

hook, line, and sinker

summary: steve was never meant to be anything more to you than a check, a basic mission. but somewhere along the way, things had veered from that.

pairing: steve rogers x spy!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, bad decisions, betrayal, unhappy ending

author's note: it has been a minute since i've posted a fic! i hope you enjoy :)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Despite the different rooms you found yourself in, the harsh morning sun was always the first thing you saw in the morning. Its bright rays would peek through the room’s shades and land right onto your face, intruding on some of the more vulnerable moments of your life.

When you finally angled your face away from the beaming star, your tired eyes fell upon the man next to you. The man you should’ve never taken things this far with. A man on the run, who you were sent after.

You sighed softly as you became a bit more conscious, and a now slightly more awake Steve threw a large arm around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Don’t get up yet,” he mumbled softly against your ear. You nodded and relaxed further into the slightly stiff motel mattress, mentally snapshotting and framing this moment in time. Yet another to add in the five month scrapbook of your time with Steve. Time that you recognized was quickly running out.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes once more, to listen to Steve’s soft breaths as he inhaled the scent of you. It made your heart hurt knowing that within the next week you would no longer get to be in those arms. Knowing that you would have to wake up alone in a new apartment in a new country and wait for a new mission while the news on the television droned on about the nomadic Captain America being flushed out of hiding. That Steve was no more to you than a mission. That it was your fault that you had fallen so hard and so fast.

So you treasured it while you had it. Hummed contently as Steve massaged your side before peppering little kisses against your neck. Tried to absorb the stubborn tear that threatened to fall down your face at any moment.

“We have to leave today,” he whispered against your ear, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Natasha wants to meet you.”

Your eyes shot open and your brows momentarily furrowed, something you quickly attempted to play off with a wide smile. There was no way that she wouldn’t recognize who you were— despite being declared ‘dead’ years ago, you were one of the more esteemed spies in your community. What that also meant is that you had even less time with Steve than you’d expected.

“When are we leaving? Am I gonna have to get used to another time zone?”

“Probably a few. Nat’s already with Sam, but we heard there’s something weird going on in Scotland with Wanda and Vision.”

“Should I really be getting involved with this then? It sounds like some pretty intense Avenger business if the parts of the team you still communicate with are getting together. I can just stay here ‘till you guys are ready to come back.”

Steve gave you an ‘are you serious?’ look before breaking into soft laughter, “are you serious?” You nodded wordlessly in response. “Oh, you’re serious. I promise that you’ll be fine.”

“Well, things better not get weird,” you giggled right along with him, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s face so that you could look into his eyes. You took another mental picture of him. You just hoped it wouldn’t have to be the last.

——

After you prepared yourself for the long car ride ahead of you, you slipped your second burner phone out of the hidden pocket of your suitcase, you were met with several missed messages by the man who sent you on the mission in the first place.

What is the wait?

I was referred to you for a reason

Have you even found him yet?

I’m not paying for you to sit around and go to brunch all day.

Do I need to send more money for a plane ticket or something??

No, I’ve got it. He’ll be in custody by tonight.

He better be. Or else you won’t be around to see tomorrow.

You swallowed thickly. You wouldn’t be dealing with this in the first place if you weren’t so irresponsible. And if word got out that you were falling in love with your targets, your reputation would be in shambles. You should’ve known from the start that this could never end well.

Steve stepped back into the bedroom area, a goofy smile on his face at the sight of you sprawled out on your back on top of the dingy motel bed. “You ready?” he asked, sounding chipper. You assumed he was ecstatic that you were finally going to be able to meet his friends, which made your heart hurt even more.

For a moment you considered the possibility of not going through with it. Of going along with Steve, work, prestige, and that hefty bounty be damned. You would still be living life on the run, but you’d have Steve, and everyone else on his side on your side too. You’d have some semblance of a family, and maybe someday you’d have a real family and someone to grow old with.

You chastised yourself for getting soft before sitting up, “I’m ready.”

——

You weren’t ready.

You knew you had to move quickly, the sun was going down, and you’d made a promise that needed to be fulfilled, or god knew what would happen to you.

You reached for the volume dial on the radio portion of the car, and turned down the song that Steve was currently humming along to.

“We should probably get off on the next exit that has a gas station,” you prompted, “the tank’s getting pretty low.”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to the dashboard and he nodded in agreement, “you’re right. Good catch.”

Steve pulled the car off and drove you to the nearest gas station, humming pleasantly along to the music once again. Your stomach was twisting and untwisting knots with every foot you got closer to the station, knowing exactly what you would have to do once you arrived.

Somehow, this was the most nerve wracking moment of your career. Not infiltrating secret government operations, not pulling the trigger on a mark, not even seeing the message from Tony Stark asking for you to find a way to bring Steve in.

You hurried into the main building of the station, making up an excuse on the spot to go inside. You made your way into a bathroom stall, and slipped the phone you hid away earlier out of the extra pocket in your pants.

Your hands shook as you dialed the first two numbers. You took one last deep breath as your finger hovered over the final number. You had one last chance to change your mind, to go back out to the car like nothing had happened because nothing had happened. You would drive a little longer before staying in another shitty hotel, and think about how you made the right decision as you curled up next to Steve’s warm body.

But you couldn’t. You were given this mission, and you needed to complete it.

You pressed the last nine, immediately connecting with an emergency service operator. You gave them the tip that you had seen Steve Rogers pumping gas into a black Honda Civic, and provided them with your location. With every word, your voice trembled a little more. You were grateful for your proximity to a toilet, as the lump inside of your throat threatened to force the contents of your stomach up with every passing moment.

You hung up the phone and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You could barely recognize yourself now, and you weren’t sure if that was from the flagrant betrayal of your partner, or the undermining of your own personal rules for the past five months of your life.

After reflecting on what you’d done for a few minutes, you made your way back to the car. You sat down in the passenger seat, lip trembling as you thought about Steve, and the fact that you’d laid a trap for someone you had such strong feelings for.

Steve sat down just a few minutes later, a smile on his face, and snacks from the gas station in his arms. As he passed you a water bottle, he couldn’t help but notice the tears slipping down your face.

“Hey, what‘s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked, dropping the rest of the items on his lap and leaning over the middle console to console you.

You began to full-on sob now, each tremble of your body filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Steve. I am so sorry,” you repeated.

“No, no, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I- I had no other choice,” you wailed, “I’m sorry.”

His brows creased and he pulled away from you, betrayal evident in his features, “oh.”

You swallowed hard and shook your head.

“So this was the plan all along?” he questioned. Your lack of response seemed to answer the question for him. “Was any of this real?”

“All of it was, Steve,” you all but whimpered out.

He sighed deeply and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. He seemed to be searching for the words, but couldn’t quite put together what he truly wanted to say. It was silent in the car for a moment, aside from your quiet sniffles.

“I loved you,” he finally said, hurt evident in his delivery. The admission shook you to your core. You almost couldn’t believe that the first time you were hearing it was after you had put him into such a terrible situation. After you turned in someone that you cared about for your own gain.

“I know,” you looked away from Steve in shame, the look of hurt on his face now permanently imprinted in your mind.

The sound of sirens began to fill the air. Not too long after, you noticed the unmissable blue and red of emergency vehicles approaching your own. It was time.

You unlocked your door and exited without another word. You refused to look back to the car, keeping your head down and your eyes squeezed shut, knowing that if you had to see Steve being taken away, you might never get over the permanent sick feeling you were currently in the midst of.

You walked right inside of the building, stopping in front of an aisle of chargers and finally looking back at the mess that you had made.

“What’s going on out there?” the clerk asked from behind the counter, peeking out the large glass windows.

“I don’t know,” you feigned ignorance and casually shrugged, ignoring the fact that the sight of about a dozen police and SWAT vehicles was tearing you up inside. What were they going to do to him?

You turned away from the scene once again, pretending to browse through the low quality electronics next to you. You heard some yelling, a bit of a struggle, then it was all over.

The coast was clear. Your mission was over.

You left the store without purchasing anything. You moved sluggishly as you got back inside of the now abandoned vehicle.

You started the car once again. This time without the radio playing overplayed pop songs, and without Steve happily humming along. You stared blankly ahead of you, feeling numb above anything else. Steve's words resonated in your mind, bouncing around in your head as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

Guilt was beginning to creep up on you in a way that you’d never experienced before. You immediately felt haunted by the ghosts of your memories with Steve. Of every entry in your mental scrapbook, of the final image of the hurt on Steve’s face as he confessed his true feelings for you. Of all, you were left with one terrifying thought.

You loved him too.

[cazimagines]

Never break the chain

Synopsis: You were Zemo’s devoted girlfriend, he would take you all over the world and treat you to everything you want in life however that all changed the day Sokiva fell. Consumed by anger Zemo went off the deep end trying to avenge his fallen country and you last saw him being escorted to prison. Years later you became really ill and there was only one thing that could save you. After a lot of searching you finally managed to get your hands on some super soldier serum which saved you however Zemo is now out of prison as is determined to finish what he started no matter what stood in his way.

Warnings/Tags: Bad Zemo, Mentions of guns, Toxic relationship, Almost cried while writing this, Hits in the feelings, Lots of angst, So much angst, Mentions of death

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Hello my fellow masochists *cough* Markiplier *cough*, I for one thrive on sad moments in fics, ones that break my heart. I live off angst and I am sure I am not the only one in this so I have written this angsty Zemo fic. There is no fluff here just sadness so you have been warned. I’m going to write a really sweet and fluff filled one shot after this as an apology. Also warning this relationship is toxic so like obviously I don’t condone Zemo’s behaviour in this, he’s meant to be a dick here.

I got inspired to write this from a song so like if you want extra emotions listen to this: https://youtu.be/1A8YpV1tfsQ

This is also being posted on my ao3 account under the name Casmad

The wind blew sharply against you, the coldness of it scratching your skin. Your eyes water up slightly at the harshness of it and you wrap your arms around your body trying to warm yourself up. You looked out over the cliff, looking over now the deserted area you once called home. Sokovia. Its beautiful landscape is broken and torn apart. An echo of how magnificent it once was. You raise your hand to touch the chain that hung around your neck. A reminder of the past.

“Darling I would be honored if you wore this for me. I have a similar one I’ll always keep around my neck so that even when we are apart, there’s a part of us that will always be together” Zemo asks nervously, swallowing and glancing from the necklace in his hand to your face.

You put your hands onto his, taking the necklace, “I’ll never take it off”

Zemo’s face broke out into a smile, his eyes shining as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. He holds you closely as you close your eyes melting into his presence. He kisses the top of your forehead and rests the top of his head on yours. “My beautiful moon” he murmurs

A tear slowly slipped down your cheek as you thought back to better times. You had been so happy with him. You two had planned your whole lives out together. The Baron and Baroness.

“Would you care to accompany me to the ball?” Zemo asks, holding his arm out to you.

“Oh I don’t know should I?” you joke, holding your chin in your hand as if questioning it, making Zemo chuckle.

“If you do I promise you can be in charge in the bedroom tonight,” he says as he leans into you. You grin back at him, raising your hand to his suit jacket and pulling him towards you for a kiss. As you feel his lips on yours and his hand rests on your hip you smile into the kiss. As you pull back you swell with happiness seeing a rosy tint to Zemo’s cheeks.

“I suppose turning up to to a ball on the arm of a Baron has its perks”

Zemo laughs and pulls you into a side hug placing a kiss on your temple.

“What would I do without you” he hums to himself as he admires you “My moon”

Everything made sense, everything fit. You couldn’t imagine a life any different till it happened.

You and Zemo had been away visiting a local country when you heard of the news. You collapsed on the floor screaming at the tv as Zemo was on the phone already organizing a trip back home. When you arrived your heart broke seeing all the destruction. Zemo was holding your hand but he let go. It was all gone. Everything. Your whole life had changed just like that.

You wipe the tears away from your cheeks yet they continue to flow as you remembered what happened after. The madness and desire for revenge had consumed Zemo. You tried to stop him. You really did but what could you have done?

“Helmut, please. This isn’t healthy...this...this isn’t you!” you cried as Zemo was preparing his attack on the avengers

“Y/n I have to do this. There is no other way” he angrily replied, refusing to look at you.

“I can’t support this” you whisper, grabbing a hold of his arm. “I can’t watch you do this”

Zemo looks at you, his face forlorn as he watches the tears fall from your eyes. He pulls you to his chest wrapping his arm around you and kisses the top of your head, stroking your hair. “I’m not asking you to moon”

You leave the warmth of his arms and watch as he grabs his bags and walks out of your room, giving you one last glimpse of goodbye before he walks out of your life.

That was the last time you saw him in person. The next time it was on the news as he was being arrested. In the end, his plan had succeeded. He split up the avengers but then what? It didn’t bring anyone back. Sokovia was still dead and you were left behind while he was locked up for life.

You close your eyes, squeezing out the remains of your tears, preparing to leave this cliff looking over your deserted town when you hear the sound of a click. You let in a sharp breath of recognition. Slowly turning around your eyes adjust to the barrow of a gun and the person standing behind it.

Zemo.

He still looked the same as you remembered. Though if you stared closely you could see lines showing his age starting to appear, the bags under his eyes were bigger than what they once were however after all this time it was still him. He even wore that ridiculously over-the-top coat that you always stole from him.

His eyes however were different, when you always looked into them in the past they seemed warm, like the feeling of drinking hot chocolate. You could melt in them but now they were stone cold. Emotionless. Like he wasn’t even there.

“Zemo…” you breathed out focusing on him

“I planned to eliminate all superheroes” he states

You shake your head at him, “Zemo please”

“I’ve almost completed my plan to rid the world of superheroes, of ‘super soldiers’”

“Please let me explain,” you say starting to take a step forward to him but he quickly raises his other hand grasping the gun, holding it in both hands now and pointing it at you making you stop in your tracks.

“How could you,” he spits, his lips drawing back in a snarl “How could you become one of them!”

“I had no choice” You rasp, tears starting to flow from your eyes again, “I would have died otherwise”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED THAN TAKEN IT” Zemo shouts

The colour drains from your face, your eyes widen in shock staring at him. His jaw tightens as he glares at you. You both stand there in silence taking in what he had said.

Wiping the side of your tear-stained cheek you smile sadly at him, sniffing, you step forward again resting your forehead against the gun.

“Okay” you simply say, your throat feeling like sandpaper as you utter those words

Zemo glares at you, his finger resting on the trigger. The gun starts to shake as he clenches his face in anger.

“DAM IT” he shouts, throwing the gun to the side. His hands grab onto your shoulders roughly, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Why are you doing this to me y/n. How could you do this to me” He snaps.

You were too shocked to reply to him, causing him to get even angrier. His eyes swarmed with tears and when one threatened to fall he pushed you back and turned away so you wouldn’t see.

You shakily let out a breath you were holding in and collapsed onto your knees. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest and you clenched the sides of your body with your arms in comfort.

Zemo turns back around to you, hatred in his eyes. “I’ve come so far, killing so many just to be stopped here”

“Because you refuse to kill the woman you love” you implored in hope but he shakes his head, “No. Not that”

“Yes, yes that Zemo!” you say shakily getting back up off the ground. “Zemo I still love you though by gods I shouldn’t. We made a promise to each other” you affirmed holding up the chain around your neck, “We were forever Zemo”

Zemo’s finger brushed up against the chain that had been hanging around his neck for the past seven years. They wrap around the chain and in one swift motion, he pulls it off his neck, breaking the chain and throwing it to the ground.

You stare at the broken chain on the floor, your heart dropping. In just one notion it was like all those moments you two spent together were worth nothing. It had led to nothing.

Zemo grabs ahold of your chain and pulls you closer to him, “The truth is, my darling moon, that you don’t love me either”

You try to argue back to him but he raises his finger to your lips, “ah”

“You want to know how I know?”

You don’t say anything, staring at him confused, he leans towards you and automatically you close your eyes however he instead he puts his lips to your ears,

“You’ve been calling me Zemo instead of Helmut”

He lets go of the chain, pushing you away from him again, the force knocking you to the ground.

You think back over your conversation. He was right. When had you started referring him to his last name rather than his first name? You had always called him by his first name before.

You look back up to him, your eyes watering and noticing the tears starting to fall from his eyes.

“I spent years in that prison imaging what it would be like to finally get out. To hold you in my arms once again. To have what we once had. It was the only thing that kept me going in there. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain I felt when I found out the truth. The pain of your betrayal. I hated you. I...I” his voice cracked as he started to cry more

He keeps trying to stop letting out a sob yet his mouth can’t help but frown and his face contorted. “I thought I could stop the pain by getting rid of you but I can’t. Even though I can’t stand looking at you I can’t kill you”

He swallows and looks away from you to the chain on the ground, “I don’t want to ever see you again.”

You could have said something then. Called out to him. Spoke sense to him. He might have even listened but you didn’t. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to stop him. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

He turns his back and starts to walk away but stops for a moment, turning his head slightly.

“Goodbye y/n”

[demivampirew]

Merry F*cking Christmas

 A Christmas’ lover Henry x a holiday hater Reader

Trigger: angst; couple fighting; a few tears - but also fluff.

A/N: I came up with this story after thinking about why I hate Christmas and the experiences of reader are some things that actually happened to me. This story is like my own Xmass coping mechanism 🤣 

Kal cocked his head, letting his tongue out; it looked as if he was smiling while watching his daddy decorate the tree.

 You loved your boyfriend more than words could express but, Gosh, it annoyed so much how much he loved Christmas. There were still a few days until the holiday and, he was already planning the celebration: choosing the food, the music, the movies you two would watch after midnight and on Christmas’ day. Henry went as far as choosing the outfit he wanted to wear that night.

 The big puppy walked across the room to where you were sitting, while drinking beer and watching tv while rolling your eyes, annoyed at your boyfriend’s jolly Christmas’ mood. The Akita stared at you for a few moments, as if he was trying to decipher something.

“Leave her Kal, mommy hates Christmas,” Henry said with a playful tone. “But, hopefully, once this baby is done, the Christmas spirit will possess her.” he finished, smirking. Once more, you rolled your eyes as you got up and went into the kitchen to grab another beer and to prepare dinner while Mr Christmas was busy decorating the tree.

“Voilà!” your man exclaimed excited once you were back on the room. The tree was fully decorated and it looked like one of those that you see on movies - or a small version of the ones that are on malls/shopping centres.

He was expecting a different reaction than the one you got: shrugging and sitting on the couch. Any other person would have given up by that point but not Henry; he was determined to get you to enjoy the holidays.

After a moment, he sat next to you and hold mistletoe over you and with a playful smile he asked for a kiss. In any other circumstances, you would not hesitate and would agree immediately but now it was different: this was not an “I love you kiss” this was a form for you to agree that you were ok with all that Christmas’ sh*t. You looked at him, irritated and fix your eyes on the tv again.

No matter how annoyed you looked, Henry would not simply give up. He insisted to get you on a holiday mood. He would put songs and dance around with Kal, among other things. Finally, as you turned off the stove because dinner was ready, he approached you and put a Santa hat that he got for you as a surprise.

“STOP! SERIOUSLY; STOP IT!” you shouted angrily while grabbing the hat and throwing it on the floor and walking away,

 It must have been around 8 pm. All daylights were gone and now the only light was the one provided by the moon. You were sitting on the garden, wishing you would have brought a blazer because it was freezing outside. Around half an hour after being there in the cold of the night, you felt a cosy and warm blanket on your back. You didn’t need to look to know who provided you with it.

“Thank you,” you said without looking at him.

“You’re welcome” he replied after sitting by your side. He also stared at the moon. “I didn’t want to bother you but, I didn’t want you to freeze either,” he explained.

Minutes went by as you sat in silence looking at anything but each other. This was the first year together and you never have fought - maybe you had one or two small arguments, but nothing like that.

“I’m sorry I tried to force you to like Christmas when I now you don’t. It was selfish of me. I’m truly sorry” he apologized as he fixed his eyes on you, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry I shouted at you. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry for that” you replied as you looked at him, feeling bad for your earlier outburst.

“You don’t need to apologize for that, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” you replied as you sighed. “I should never scream at you, especially not for something as silly as that. It’s just that... I don’t...” you were having a hard time finding the words to explain things up “ The reason I hate Christmas is that they bring up memories and feelings that I don’t want.” you confessed “I used to love Christmas. When I was a child, I loved the holidays as much as you do but, when I was around 13 or 14, my parents decided to stop going to my uncle’s house to celebrate it with the rest of the family. For then on, we would just stay at our house and “celebrated it” on our own. But, to be honest, I was the only one on the mood to do so; the rest would not even dress up for it. Then, we would fight constantly and after a few years, we ended up eating at different times and the celebrations ceased. I tried a few times to celebrate it with friends but something bad would always happen. One time a friend broke up with her boyfriend and we all had to witness the fight and it was awful.” You looked at the grass, as you took a moment before continuing. “Has ever happened to you to speak happily about something you love and nobody listened to you so you pretend that you didn’t say a word to avoid looking stupid and the humiliation of being completely ignored? Well, that’s exactly what I do. The “I hate Christmas” narrative is my coping mechanism. If I hate the holidays, I cannot be hurt when other people don’t give a f about it.” As you finished your explanation, you realized something that you haven’t thought about before you put your feelings into words “Which is exactly what I’m doing to you...sh*t! I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored and silly for loving the holidays” you apologized profusely.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. “But now that I know that you do enjoy Christmas, why don’t we celebrate it properly? Making gingerbread cookies, music and all stereotypical things that seemed lame but are cute?” he proposed with a big smile.

“Because I don’t want to get enjoy Christmas if there’s a possibility of losing that.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked confused.

“What if someday we broke up? The last thing I need is another reason for this time of the year to be painful” you admitted.

“What makes you think we would break up? I don’t know about you but, I don’t see this relationship ending. I just don’t.” he told you as he smiled “I don’t want to live my life in the “what if”, scared; I rather live my life to the fullest and if that happens, I’ll deal with it afterwards. To prevent me from enjoying things out of the possibility of someday those things becoming painful memories is insane because they cannot be painful if you didn’t enjoy them. A hurtful memory becomes that because at one point it made you happy.”

His resonated with you. You have never thought about it. He was right, it was silly not to enjoy something out of fear of losing it.

 After a sweet, reconciliation kiss, you stood up and walked towards the warm house to eat dinner and to take pictures with the amazing tree that he decorated.

You can find more of my writings in the Masterlist

[thexfridax]

Wynonna Earp Boss Hopes Syfy Finale Made You Feel 'All the Things' — Plus, Scoop on One Happy Wedding Accident

By Matt Webb Mitovich, tvline.com / April 9 2021, 8:02 PM PDT

The following contains spoilers from the Syfy finale of Wynonna Earp.

After four years of protecting Purgatory with her Peacemaker, Wynonna Earp got to quite literally ride off into the sunset. And she did so while straddling a motorcycle, with Doc Holliday seated behind her.

Mind you, the two almost didn’t wind up together. Following the simply beautiful “WayHaught” wedding, Doc (played by Tim Rozon) was determined to put Purgatory in Charlene’s rear view mirror and get to living life as “just a man,” and Wynonna (Melanie Scrofano) felt compelled to stay put as Purgatory’s protector. But with an empowering nudge from li’l sis Waverly (Dominique Provost-Chalkley), Wynonna caught up to her man and professed her love, after which they decided to travel light, for the first time in a long time, and pay their daughter Alice a visit in MIracles, Montana.

TVLine spoke with series creator Emily Andras about crafting this very fine finale, at least one “happy accident” that wound up stirring many emotions, and more.

TVLINE | The finale has just aired…. What emotions do you hope the fans are feeling at this moment?

Just head-to-toe body warmth, and love, and affection, and wistfulness…. And a little bit of bittersweetness. I feel like joy has to be paired with nostalgia, so I hope they’re feeling all the things. But hopefully not hungover!

TVLINE | At what point over the years did you ever envision Wynonna and Doc riding off into the sunset?

Ahhh! I almost never even let myself envision it, you know? It’s so funny — when you start doing a show, you have all sorts of ideas about what pairings are going to rise to the top, who’s going to end up with whom, and one of the joys of Earp is that so many different things have happened. But those two characters have certainly earned the chance to try to be happy, whatever that means to them. I never knew that I would be allowed to end such a romantic pairing with the woman driving the motorcycle and the guy on the back.

TVLINE | I’m watching that final sequence and it almost feels alien, seeing the two of them head off into what I think of as “the real world.” But I also found that viscerally exciting, to see so much ahead for them.

That’s so lovely, thank you for saying that. I feel like having the world ahead of them and being such an unusual couple, I would love to see what happens next for them. I’m sure there will be lots of crazy sex and crazy arguments and crazy laughter. So, godspeed! Godspeed.

TVLINE | When throwing a season-ending wedding, what is Emily Andras’ marching order? “Above all else, this wedding has to be…”?

It has to honor to all of the characters — and by that, I mean it has to try to find a moment for every special pairing on the show, not just WayHaught. I think it’s important to pay due respect to how far Waverly and Doc have come; she never gave up on him, she always saw a better man in him — and now he gets to be the best man! Nedley (Greg Lawson) and Nicole’s (Kat Barrell) relationship, that paternal/daughter bond is so special, so honoring that was very important.

And at the end of the day, I still think the real love affair of the show is the Earp sisters, so I ended to make sure that that was honored. I really love the parallel with the pilot, where Wynonna came into town against her will and was so hungry to leave but was forced to stay. And now you have Waverly secure enough in how their relationship has evolved, that she knows Wynonna deserves to leave again — because she’ll come back.

More than anything, it was about giving every character a moment of happiness. Even Jeremy (Varun Saranga) becoming deputy chief of Black Badge and maybe finding a new date…. It was all about finding everyone a moment of potential joy, after they’ve gone through so much after four seasons.

TVLINE | Talk about the decision to have empty guest chairs laid out with the names of those who are no longer with us or didn’t make it to the wedding.

That was such a happy accident. We were on-set, it was very much in the middle of the pandemic, and we knew we were going to have a limited number of people for the wedding. But then we put out chairs so you could understand where the aisle was, and they looked really empty. So my incredible director, Paolo Barzman, who also did the pilot, and my art director Trevor Smith, pitched this idea to me. I had sort of joked about, “Wouldn’t it be cool if you had the ghosts of characters past?” In the moment, they said, “What if we hung names on the chairs?” and it was just one of those goosebump moments, like, “That’s brilliant.” So then we have people writing up these cards, rushing them out, and it’s honestly one of my favorite things. Whenever I see that Dolls chair, I just can’t help but feel things.

TVLINE | But Mercedes (Dani Kind), to be clear, is still with us.

She’s just out, like, being her best vampire self. She’s out being an amazing vampire, yeah. I still have that spinoff if you want to help me sell that!

TVLINE | If anything caught me a bit off-guard, it was us getting a song from Rachel (played by Martina Ortiz-Luis).

The thing about Martina is that she is a phenomenal singer. She is the anthem singer for the Toronto Maple Leafs — so she’s quite a star here! — and she was on Pilipinas Got Talent back in the day…. It seemed like a waste to not have someone with such an exceptional voice perform! And what better song to lay over the necessary wedding montage than a WayHaught classic (Fleurie’s “Wildwood”), the song that was playing the first time WayHaught kissed. It’s a bit of an Easter egg for those hardcore WayHaughters!

TVLINE | I don’t think anyone would have ever felt like a “Dark Angel Waverly” detour was missing, if you hadn’t spent time on it the episode prior. Why did you feel it was important to go there during one of the final hours?

The truth of it is that honestly we’ve been balancing the spectre of whether we were going to have a Season 5 or not. When we started breaking Season 4 two years ago, we were looking down the barrel of about 24 episodes, so [when you get half that] you’re like, “What are we going to keep, and what are we going to pitch overboard? What can we live without learning about?” I would argue that this idea of Waverly having a darkness inside of her did have to be highlighted after four seasons. I completely agree that in a perfect world I could have done eight episodes of Dark Angel Waverly, exploring that and seeing it come to pass. But if we ever get more story, I don’t know if Waverly has complete control over that part of herself. I dont think it’s “gone.” If Nicole puts mayo instead of mustard on her sandwich, who knows what’s going to sprout out!

TVLINE | I mean, if only to see what other outfits Dark Waverly has.

As long as she keeps her thigh holster, she’s ready to go.

TVLINE | Looking back at these last few episodes, what are you most proud of?

‘m so proud of this cast. It’s so boring, but God, just to see them grow and thrive and shine…. performing comedy and emotion, seeing their commitment to the show, and the feelings…. It’s just been such a joy to see such an amazing group of people get their due. They really are that wonderful, off-screen as well.

I’m also pretty happy — in this day and age, and despite all the fights the show has been through — that if this is the end, I feel like that’s a pretty nice finale, a pretty good topper on the cake. I feel like the fans will feel like they went on a journey, and they left the characters in an interesting, good place. And look, that’s really rare in TV, to end your story the way you want. How can I be anything but grateful, at the end of the day?

TVLINE | When I was writing my tweet the other morning, I wanted to call it a “very fine finale,” but I worried you’d think I was saying it was only “fine.” But it was a very fine finale!

No, you have to keep me hungry! You get to challenge me, Matt. Listen, I just didn’t want to risk…. I’m the queen of 75 cliffhangers, but I feel like the fans have worked so hard for us, for so many years, that it was more important that they got closure, just in case. But there’s always another demon, there’s always another thing to trigger Dark Angel Waverly. There’s always more story, but at least you have this, no matter what.

TVLINE | And if some network or streamer does ride to the rescue, would there be something that brings Wynonna and Doc back to Purgatory? Or might a Season 5 be without the two of them?

Look, the show is called Wynonna Earp, so you need Wynonna Earp. She’s still the champion, she’s still got the magic gun and the best hair on the show — sorry, everyone else!

There are a couple of unresolved issues. We still have Eve, who we kicked out the the Garden very early in the season, and who can kind of shapeshift; she could take on the appearance of any one of our characters! That would certainly throw a wrench in the works in Purgatory. There are a million different reasons to bring Wynonna back, to help out her sister.

TVLINE | And lastly, was there anything you had to cut or just didn’t have room for, or any returning cast you couldn’t fit in?

Oh, tons. But look, you kind of hit the nail on the head earlier. I’m always striving to be better, and some stuff at the end felt a little rushed, with Dark Angel Waverly. I think if it hadn’t been a pandemic, there would have been more people at that wedding. I would have loved four more episodes to round the bend there. But look, that’s Wynonna Earp, man — perfectly imperfect! So that’s what we did, and what a ride it’s been. The ride of a lifetime for me.

[sinfulslanders]

Birthday

Pairing: Michael Myers x Baker!Reader

Request: @nuttybeardetective “Hai!! Would it be alright to request Michael Myers x chubby fem reader who is a Baker, and they find out about Michael's birthday and make him lots of cakes and pies ? Pure fluff if you please ♡♡”

Warning(s): Kind of out of character Michael.

Word Count: 1.7K

Note: I’m a little late. Ahaha. No but seriously, I’ve been going through some stuff. This year isn’t really my year. I just finished my state test yesterday and I just got into the writing mood. I hope this is to your expectations but if it’s not, just let me know.

Before you knew of Michael, he knew everything about you. Of course, he watched you long before he decided to reveal himself to you. He knew you ran the local baker in town and you were known to have some of the best birthday cakes in town, along with other famous desserts he heard people talking about. He would watch you bake cupcakes through the cracked backdoor of your shop, the smell of sweetness always made his mouth water and his stomach grumble. Maybe he wouldn’t kill you until he got to taste of your famous cake or something.

He watched you more and saw the things that went on behind closed doors. Your employees weren’t of much help to you, he could tell they were only there for the paycheck, he heard the things they said about you when they thought you weren’t around or listening, words that surprisingly made him irritated. He knew you heard them but you weren’t faded by them, you just continued mixing the ingredients while humming a song he did not know of.

He watched and watched, moving from just watching you at your job to watching you in your house. Watching your sleep through your bedroom window, watching you day and night. Until he finally showed himself to you. He just sat on the couch, waiting for you to come back home after working overtime at the shop, you weren’t faded by him just sitting there on your couch. “You finally decided to show yourself. If you’re going to kill me, do it while I’m sleeping.” Then you turned off the light and went upstairs, leaving him in the darkness.

The next morning you had awoken to you still being alive, then you blamed yourself for being so stupid to just fall asleep while there was someone in the living room. You had grabbed the ball you kept next to your bed and walked downstairs ready to hit anything that moved. Stepping off the last step, you saw the tall intruder sitting in the exact same spot as last night but he had the box of cupcakes you baked, opened and emptied out. You sighed but quickly focused on the intruder as he started to get up, you quickly hit him across the head with the bat and waited as he stopped and turned his head towards you.

You couldn’t see his eyes through the mask he was wearing but you could feel him staring at you. You were about to hit him again but he snatched the bat away from you and tossed to the side. He stood up completely which caused you to step back and raise your fists. “I’m not going down without a fight.” You were really hoping your death would be quick since you did not know how to fight and he was twice your size. The masked intruder stepped towards you and stopped right in front of you, he placed his hand over yours and pushed your fists down. ‘Well, this is the end.’

You closed your eyes but felt a bit of wind go past you along with the sound of footsteps. You opened your eyes and saw that he was no longer in front of you, you heard something tapping against something else and turned around to see where it was coming from. You saw the large man had gone to the kitchen and had his arm extended. He looked at you as if he was telling you to come to him and you cautiously walked to the kitchen then stood by him. He was pointing at the calendar you had hung up in the kitchen. You looked even closer and saw he was pointing to a specific date, October 19th.

You stared up at him and tilted your head in confusion. He pointed at it again then slowly pointed at himself by back at the date. “Is tomorrow your birthday?” You asked. He didn’t verbally give you an answer but he stared down at you. “Okay, so, what about it?” He turned and pointed to the stove. You were starting to put everything together. “You want me to make you something. Okay, what do you want?” He walked over to the counter and you followed behind him. He pointed to the dessert cook book your grandmother had given you.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you stood beside him and opened the book. “I don’t know if you can talk so just point out everything you want.” You flipped pages and every time he would point that it. At the end, he had pointed to all thirty pages. “You want all of these?! Can you even eat them all?” You felt him poke you in your side with his finger. You looked at him then saw him point at himself again. He wanted you to eat them with him.

You sighed and nodded, “Alright, I’ll make them. It's going to take me some time to finish.” You saw him walk away. You turned your head to watch him and saw that he was going back into the living room. He sat down on the couch and just stared at the television. “The remote is on the smaller table, where you put the box of cupcakes.” You turned around and began getting all the ingredients you needed and soon enough you heard the tv turn on.

You spent hours making the desserts the masked intruder wanted. You even had to go to the grocery store a couple of times since you kept running out of stuff, and during your last trip you overheard from the town’s elderly about a boy named Michael Myers who killed his sister on Halloween night. You didn’t pay too much attention but it did peak your interest since it was the first time you had heard of a crime such as that in such a peaceful town. After you got everything you needed, you went back home and continued making the desserts.

You finally finished around 11 pm and you were exhausted. You called the stranger into the kitchen and you could hear the floors creaking underneath his feet. “I’m done with everything you wanted.” You handed him an icing decorator and pointed at the newly finished cake. He looked down at both the cake and the icing then looked at you. You smiled, “Write your name.” He looked down at the cake and gripped the icing bag in an awkward way before you started seeing his hand moving.

You couldn’t exactly see what he was writing since he was a large guy but after some time he sat the icing down, you looked at the cake and read what he wrote: “Michael.” You furrowed your eyebrows. You thought back to when you were in the store and heard those elderly ladies talking about a Myers boy. It would be a plot twist if he was the Myers boy but did you want to risk asking him that. No, absolutely not. It might be a trigger for him and you did not want to die yet.

“Okay, Michael, help me bring the rest of the desserts into the dining room.” You grabbed the cupcakes and brought them to the dining room, he turned around and just saw Michael staring at the cake. You smacked your lips before you entered the kitchen. As you grabbed the plate, Michael suddenly grabbed your wrist hard. “Relax. I’m just bringing it to the dining room.” He loosen his grip a bit but still didn’t let go.

“Michael, I promise I’m not trying to do anything with the cake.” What was wrong with him? He didn’t even flinch when you hit him with the bat but he’s scared you’ll do something with his birthday cake? After some more hesitation, he released your wrist and you thanked him. You went to the dining room and placed the cake in front of a chair. You turned around and saw Michael right behind you which caused you to jump.

“Michael! You scared me!” You softly patted your chest to try to calm your breathing. He didn’t react in any way and continues to stand there. You cleared your throat and pointed to the chair with the cake in front of it. “You can go sit down if you want to.” You two just stood in silence. You wanted to move but you felt it would be wrong for you to make the first move. You noticed the Micael began to lift his arms up and you thought that your end had finally come. You closed your eyes but only felt him wrapping his arms around you then suddenly lifting you up.

“Put me down! Oh my goodness.” You didn’t know what to do. The whole situation was making you nervous. What was he trying to accomplish? He must have lifted you off the ground since your face and his were right next to each other. ‘Oh wow, he’s pretty strong.’ You could now hear his even breathing through his mask, at least you’ve confirmed he’s an actual person.

“Thank you.” A deep and raspy voice came through the mask causing you to freeze. He placed you back onto the ground but you were still frozen. He could talk? Why didn’t he talk earlier? You were brought out of your thoughts when you heard a chair screeching against the floor. You turned away and saw him sitting down and staring at you, as if he was waiting for you to sit down with him.

You jumped slightly when your watch went off, you looked at the time and saw it was midnight. It was officially his birthday. “Wait! Don’t eat yet.” You went into the kitchen and searched through the drawers for a lighter and candle. After searching two drawers, you found them and went back into the dining room. You quickly placed the candle into the cake and lit it. You began singing the birthday song to him but he just stared at the cake. At the end, you asked him to blow out the candle. He looked at you, you waited but he continued.

“Okay, I’ll close my eyes if you want.” You placed your hands over your eyes as you said you would. There was a few minutes of silence and you were starting to get tired of waiting, you were about to remove your hands but you heard a soft blow. You smiled and waited before removing your hands. Your eyes quickly adjusted to the light and you saw that he was staring at you, the candle wasn’t lit anymore.

You clapped and smiled at him, “Happy Birthday, Michael!”

[weelittleweasley]

i’ll be seeing you (f.w.)

prompt: after fred’s death, you can’t help but see his face in everything you do

pairing: fred weasley x fem! reader

warnings: this fic has to do with fred’s death and coping with a parted love one. please do not read this fic if you believe that the content is sensitive and could trigger anything for you. this fic deals with death, loss of a loved one, depression, anxiety, food, mentions of war, and fear of death. please take care of yourself and read the fic with caution. i love you.

song can be found here; recommended to listen before or during your reading :)

word count: 3.1k

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdric @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @starlightweasley @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley @gryffindcrghost @wand3ringr0s3​

The night was still. Untouched. You didn’t dare to breathe as to not disturb the air surrounding you, remaining as still as possible. Laying on the bed, facing the ceiling, you didn’t dare move from this position. If you closed your eyes and concentrated hard enough, you could still feel the imprint of his body in the mattress. The scent of him still lingered on the sheets and pillowcases as you clutched onto them tighter, closer to your chest as you squeezed your eyes tighter shut. Maybe if you squeezed them hard enough, you would wake up from this sick, sick nightmare.

But no matter how hard you squeezed your eyes, each time you opened them you were in the same place. Same bed. Same time line. And you were still alone. Without Fred.

There was a gentle knock on the door, but you didn’t bother moving from your position on the bed. Instead, you called out a weak Come in and the door gently creaked open to reveal a just as exhausted George. He didn’t bother saying anything because there was nothing left to say. Instead, he walked over to the bed and laid down in the empty space next to you. And for a moment, George’s body looked like Fred’s. But it wasn’t Fred. Fred was gone. 

With a small sob escaping your lips, you retreated into George’s side as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. You let the cries ripple throughout your body, shaking to you to your core. George bit down hard onto his bottom lip, trying to not break out into his own sobs like he has been doing time and time again. The flat felt so empty without Fred. He didn’t need to tell you that because you knew that George felt the loss of Fred’s presence just as much if not more than you. George gently rubbed your back as you took fistfuls of his shirt in your hands, sobbing into the fabric as it absorbed the salty tears. 

You throat burned and eyes stung from all of the crying over the past week. The crying never subsided. If anything, it only grew as more time passed. It was just so unfathomable that he was gone for good. He wasn’t there to give you a kiss good morning, scoop you up from behind, peppering you with cheeky compliments. No more sneaky glances from across the shoppe when he saw you come in on lunch break. No more long conversations at three in the morning when you both couldn’t sleep, so you laid there and pontificated about everything and anything. No more plans for the future and how many kids Fred wanted versus how many you wanted. No more Fred. And that was the scariest part of it all. You not only lost your love, you lost your best friend. 

George silently cried as he rubbed your arm before placing a kiss into your hair. “It’s so hard,” he spoke through his tears which only made you cry harder into his chest, holding him tight. “I don’t know what to do.”

The two of you remain in Fred’s bedroom, laying on his bed until the crying ceases momentarily. When it’s quiet again and the sobs have subsided, you peel yourself from George’s comforting embrace to sit up and look around the room. Fred’s things were still scattered throughout the room, no one dared to touch them. Thinking if they did, it would somehow disturb the timeline. Like if you moved something, it meant that he was really gone. The chair in the corner had a small suitcase, opened up to reveal a few items of clothing that he had packed away. His promise. Fred had told you after the war that you two would get away from London for a while. Leave England temporarily. Go somewhere where you two could elope and finally breathe. The suitcase just reminded you of your plans and the thought made the all too familiar lump in your throat rise. 

You sharply turned away from the suitcase to look at all of the other things. The pictures that were framed of you two, on holiday, from school, from trips to the Burrow. Happy times. Happy memories. When the two of you didn’t worry about losing the other. When you were just happy with the way life was. If you closed your eyes, you could hear his melodious laugh in the kitchen of the Burrow as he sat on the counter, swinging his lanky legs back and forth. That smile. The dimply grin that could make traffic stop. Your darling Fred.

“I see him everywhere, George,” you croak, your throat sore for crying. You licked your chapped lips with your tongue before turning to look at George. “In everything that’s light and gay,” you say with a small smile, “I see him, smiling and laughing. That’s how I remember him. Always happy.”

George sits up slowly and smiles, his eyes bloodshot from crying. “He was always happy. Rarity that you ever saw him cross,” George speaks as you chuckle with a nod. “Freddie would want you to remember him that way,” he tells you genuinely as you look at George with a knowing smile. He was right. Fred wouldn’t want you to remember that sad times. He wouldn’t want you to dwell on the last nights you spent together, crying in fear over the war. Fred would want you to think of the fond times, the special memories you created over your years together. Those were the memories that Fred wanted you to remember him by.

Weakly, you rise from Fred’s mattress, your body aching and sore. Your lower back and neck on fire from spending most days curled up crying. George slowly did the same before breathing in deeply as you mimicked his actions, the two of you preparing to get ready to head back to the Burrow. The two of you agreed that you couldn’t bare to live in the flat just yet. You needed to be around family, around life, around loved ones. And right now, the Weasley family needed each other more than ever. 

“I just need some fresh air,” you tell George as you enter the living room. “Before we go.” George gives you an understanding nod before you exit the flat, descending the stairs and pushing the door outside. The warm June air engulfed you as you stepped outside onto the streets of London, the familiar feeling of being outside in the sun made you feel a little better. 

The streets were quiet, not nearly as occupied as they once were. A few travelers here and there, some groups of young teenagers walking in groups, keeping themselves busy with light chatter. Whatever it was, it was better than being cooped up in that bedroom, relishing in your own sadness. 

You walked down the cobblestone streets, pulling your zip up closer around your body, watching your feet walk in your dirty trainers. You watched your surroundings, eyes landing on a small café that sat humbling on the road. A few occupants inside kept to themselves, sipping on coffees and teas, reading papers or books or just watching the London streets before them. As you looked inside, you almost did a double take. Sitting at a small round table was a tall redheaded man. But of course, not your Fred. It was an older man, with round glasses and a narrow nose and plump lips. Not Freddie. You shook your head, preventing yourself from staring. 

Practically everywhere you looked, you saw him. In the café, the parks, the children in the street, in the reflections of store fronts. Fred was everywhere and it only reminded you about how much you missed him. How your heart ached for one more moment with him. You wished so desperately you could holds his face in your hands and smile at him with a kiss on the tip of his nose. You wanted to tell him one last time how much you loved him and how you swore you would never find someone else. He was your forever and it would stay that way until you look your last breath.

Your feet took your further down the road as you inhaled the lovely summer day into your lungs. Fred loved days like this. Warm, but not too warm, with a light breeze. On days like this, he insisted on going for long walks where you two would just hold hands and talk about the future. As you walk along the path, you smile to yourself as you think about one walk you had with Fred. The two of you started playfully arguing about what you would name your first child and how many you would have. Fred insisted on having five kids at least. He wanted to raise a family like his parents did. But the thought of more than two kids made your mind reel. “It’ll be so much fun! The house will always be full! We’ll never be alone!” he would insist, poking at your sides. Your retort always being, “That’s the problem! We’ll never be alone!” which would always make Fred throw his head back with a laugh.

The memory brings tears to your eyes yet again, but you swallow them back before realizing how far you had walked. With a sigh, you turn around and start walking back to the flat, knowing that George would be patiently waiting for your return. 

And as you suspected, George was sat in the living room, look at something quietly on the couch. He didn’t hear you come in and you were sure to be quiet as to not to disturb his thoughts. As he sat, you realized in his hands was a picture. In the frame was a picture of him and Fred, right outside of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes both smiling as wide as they could as they hugged each other. You smiled to yourself, recognizing the moment. It was the day they had bought the joke shoppe and received the keys. It was the happiest you had ever seen them both. It was their dream to start this business together and on that day, their dreams had come to fruition after hard work and relentless trying. Your stomach sank as you thought about George. He not only lost his business partner, best friend, and brother, but he lost his twin. His other half. The person who helped find himself. George lost a piece of him. 

“I see him everywhere, too,” George speaks up before looking at you, tears brimming in his eyes. “I try not to go into the joke shoppe too often otherwise I hear his voice. I see him behind the counter or at his office desk. He’s always there. In every thing I do. I see him,” he says as you slowly walk towards him. “I see him in all the old familiar places. I can’t not see him.”

You kneel down next to George and take his face in both of your hands. George looks exhausted. Dark circles cloud his brown eyes and his face is plagued with sleeplessness. “Maybe it’s a good thing we always see him,” you try and support him. “Maybe he’ll letting us know that he’ll always be with us everywhere we go.”

George smiles softly before managing to speak, “He’s quite the distraction.” You two let out a weak laugh before he takes a deep breath in. “Let’s get going now, shall we?” You nod and both rise to your feet. George links your arms before two of you apparate to the Burrow.

Within moments you are in the living room of the Burrow. The Burrow, rather than teeming with life, was quiet. There was only the small chirping of birds, the sound of running water from the sink, and quiet footsteps here and there. George and you walk into the kitchen to find Molly sitting at the dining room table, cup of tea in front of her that was cold. It was obvious she had been sitting there for some time, unable to move. Her face was tired like George’s, but perked up when she saw her son and you enter the room. “My darlings,” she croaked as your heart ached. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she scurried over to George who hugged his mother tightly, not letting her go. The two of them stood in their embrace for a few moments, Molly rubbing her son’s back comforting him when she probably needed more comforting than anyone. She had been so busy making sure everyone else was okay that she didn’t check up on herself. She peeled herself from George, placing a kiss on his forehead. “Hello, dear,” she cooed at you as your heart ached at seeing your love’s mother again. It had been a few days since you had seen Molly, but you missed her company more than ever. “Oh, darling, come here,” she spoke, noticing how the tears welled up in your eyes again before you did. Molly pulled you into her arms as you held onto her tight. She placed one, two, three kisses to your temple as you sniffled into her knit sweater. “You’re home now. It’s okay.” 

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

The day trudged on like it was walking through mud. It took forever for the sun to set, but eventually the familiar warm colors of the sunset filled the Burrow. You sat on the couch, Ginny laid on your lap as you looked down at her, she looking up at you. Ginny gave you a sad smile, reaching up and touching the tip of your nose. “Honk, honk,” she teased which made you giggle. Fred had always done that to you for years. It was one of his little “things” he did with you. No matter where you were, what you were doing, Fred would poke your nose and say honk honk. One time in Potions class when you were fifth years in the middle of an exam, he reached over the desk and poked your nose with a cheerful honk honk which just made Professor Snape confiscate his exam and send him to the back of the room as you stifled laughter. 

You shook your head and look up at the clock. Seven o’clock. The hands on the clock that represented each Weasley all pointed to home. Except for Fred’s. Fred’s hand had fallen off of the clock after his passing. Arthur had found it on the floor a few days ago and had put it on a chain. George now wore Fred’s clock hand on his neck, that way Fred was always home with George. 

Looking back at Ginny, you speak, “Reckon we stay up tonight? Get some snacks, hang out a bit?” Ginny nods with a small smile as you sigh. You had spent too many nights crying and wallowing in your own sadness. You needed a change of pace and maybe tonight was the night for some change.

The time slowly passed and soon enough, the moon had replaced the sun in the sky, the moonlight trickling through the window in George’s room as you, Ginny, George, and Ron sat on the floor, smiling and chuckling as you snacked on the pile of food in the middle of the rug. You took a bite of the licorice twirl, twirling it around as George told a story of one time where he and Fred set off  Dungbombs in the Slytherin locker room, making them all late for their quidditch match. Ron held his stomach in laughter as Ginny smiled at the memory. She always pretended to find her older twin brother’s pranks childish, but deep down she loved how they both had the ability to bring such joy and life to the room. That was what she missed most about Fred, the life in his eyes. How his youth was never dying. Fred could age and age all he wanted, but he would still have that childhood glee that glistened in his eyes proudly. She missed that most about Fred.

“I don’t know how you lot got away with that one,” Ron wiped his eyes from tears of laughter. It’s been a while since this group was crying from laughter. George sighed before popping a Jelly Slug into his mouth. The room dies down from laughter and settles into what was a familiar understanding that the dynamic was so different without him. 

You rise to your feet and walk to the window, looking up at the moon and how brightly it shone in the dark sky. You smiled gently at the bright moon and thought of your Fred. Even in the darkest times, Fred was always there, bringing in the light. Fred was your moon. And you were his sun. Both chasing after the other in the sky. 

“(Y/N)?” George’s voice calls. “You just got up all of a sudden.”

Without turning around or peeling your eyes from the moon, you speak, “You know where I see him the most, Georgie?” George just stays silent as Ron and Ginny look at each other, confused as to what you were talking about. “The sky. I find him in the morning sun and when the night is new, I see him in the moon. I know, I’m looking at the moon, but I’ll be seeing Fred. He’s always there in the sky, watching me. Watching us,” you tell him and Ron and Ginny, turning around to see them. They all look at you with soft smiles. “Everything reminds me of him. But especially the moon.”

You turn back around to look up at the moon as it’s silver beams shine down on the Burrow through the window and onto your face. George appears next to you at the window sill, leaning out of the window, looking up at the moon. Soon enough, a soft smile is on his face as he sighs. “I like that. He’s the moon. He’s always watching over us,” George tells you as you smile. 

Ron and Ginny file in next to you, all four of you looking up at the sky, moon beams illuminating your faces. As you look up at the moon, you can see Fred’s face. You see his brown eyes, filled with love and adoration. You see his dimply grin and you can hear his chuckle. You can feel his arms hug your waist as you close your eyes and inhale deeply. Fred was with you. Even though he wasn’t physically with you, you knew that he would find ways to be with you. And Fred, clever as he was, found the moon. 

As long as the moon was in the sky, Fred would be with you. Always.

[mindofharry]

Garden Song

chapter 1 - motion sickness

It’s been two years since the divorce between Julie and Grayson. A lot has changed. Grayson wants Julie more than ever. Will she take him back?

TW: some of the stuff mentioned in this series might trigger some people. please don’t read if you get triggered easily!

“You need to leave before the boys wake up” Julie mumbled and Grayson nipped at her neck. It wasn’t meant to happen, not in this way. They got carried away — Julie was upset because of Ethan and Grayson just wanted to comfort her. So three episodes of Brooklyn nine-nine and a whole bottle of wine later, they ended up in Julies bed naked and somewhat embarrassed. It wasn’t the first time something like this happened, the night Ethan broke up with Julie, she went straight to Grayson. She didn’t even think which was why she was so frustrated.

Grayson put Julie through hell and back. With his cheating, drinking and just being a total dickhead. She’s been trying to distance herself in the nicest way possible. As you can tell, it’s not going very well.

“Hmm, i know you don’t want me to” Grayson hummed kissing down her neck.

“I don’t want you to leave, but sebastian knows what sex is. No lying anymore” Julie said with a smirk, Grayson groaned and rolled onto the ‘his’ side of the bed. It was weird for him to even say that, but he stays over here more than he does his own home. It’s safe to say, it’s his side of the bed. He wished Julie would let him stay in bed with her, instead of worrying about the boys. Julie is constantly worrying about Alexander and Sebastian, even more than she probably should.

She just doesn’t want them to get hurt again. And instead of talking with the boys and her therapist — she’s keeping it all inside and projecting it on other people. Luckily she’s made some good friends, so they know all the shit Grayson put her through. Julie met Sarah a couple months ago at a parent teacher meeting. Alexander bit her son — he’s going through a biting phase. Of course Sarah thought it was the funniest thing in the world, and now they’re both best friends. The same with Alexander and Sarah’s daughter Maria. Alexander gets all blushy around her which is the cutest thing.

Sarah would all kill Julie if she found out she was sleeping with the enemy (the enemy being grayson). Julie had too much whine, and sarah was talking about her divorce, and all it just sort of slipped out. It felt good to have another person to talk to.

“i’ll go make breakfast then?” he asked and Julie nodded getting up and pulling her silk dressing gown over her naked body. Grayson was sat up in the bed, watching her every move. “you’re undeniably sexy, you know that?” Grayson said pulling his boxers on.

Julie grinned and leaned against the bathroom door. “you’ve told me once or twice”.

Grayson sighed to himself in content as Julie hopped in the shower. He got up, only his boxers, all of his muscles and tattoos on show. He went downstairs and went straight to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. He had major deja vu. All the fights, the sex, the cheating — this kitchen had seen it all. Grayson is surprised that Julie didn’t just up and leave, he really wouldn’t of opposed at all. She deserved a happy ending, and Grayson really thought that was with Ethan.

Everyone thought that Ethan and Julie were meant to be after Grayson. That they would get married and do better.

But it was just so much worse.

No Ethan didn’t cheat or abuse her emotionally. But he promised. He promised Julie so many things, a happy life was one of them and that just didn’t happen. The first job that was thrown his way, he took it and left without so much of explanation. He just came home from the current job he had, ate the dinner Julie and the boys made him and then told Julie that night that he was leaving because he just couldn’t handle the pressure of being a dad and having a full time job he didn’t love. Of course, Julie was upset — she went straight to the person who fucking cheated on her, that’s how messed up she was after what Ethan did. And the fact that it wasn’t just for a job, it was because he wasn’t able to look after children.

Ethan promised marriage, more kids, a new home. And he gave shit, just like his brother. The Dolan twins were a drug, and Julie apparently just couldn’t get enough.

“Daddy?” a voice called out by the kitchen door. Grayson turned around with a big green to his youngest boy, Alexander. He had gotten so big after the last two years, his curls more prominent and god was he a tall five year old. Don’t get Grayson started on Sebastian — he’s like the tallest 10 year old Grayson’s ever seen. Julie always said they take after their daddy in that department.

“Hi, baby. You wanna help daddy make some pancakes for mama and Seb?” Grayson asked flipping a pancake over. Alexander nodded quickly with a smile and ran over to his dad, his favourite pink blanket now on the floor. He put his hands up, and Grayson lifted him up resting him on his hip. Julie raised such good boys, always wanting a cuddle, kiss or hug. Always listening and never fighting. The most mature boys ever. She a really good job, Grayson wished he was around more during those times.

“What are you doing up so early, little man?” Grayson asked and Alexander shrugged. “Heard you and mama” he said and Grayson pouted.

“Did we wake you?”

Alexander nodded resting his head in Grayson’s chest. “you can sleep some more” Grayson murmured kissing his forehead and continued making breakfast. About ten minutes later, alexander was up again helping grayson set the table for breakfast. “good job, buddy” Grayson grinned messing up Alexander’s hair.

Julie walked down the stairs hand in hand with Sebastian, she could smell the pancakes and coffee already. She missed having someone do this for her and the boys.

“Hey, honey” Grayson said as he saw Julie and Sebastian coming through the kitchen.

honey? that’s new.

Sebastian grinned and hugged his dad before sitting down beside his brother and digging into his pancakes. Julie walked over to grayson who was leaning against the island, drinking his coffee — still shirtless. She smirked and stood beside him.

“why don’t you stay over again tonight?” She asked and grayson smirked placing a hand on her hip. Julie bit her lip and tried to keep her breathing in check. “i’m going to fuck you so hard, Julie Dolan” grayson mumbled kissing her neck before walking off to the boys.

Julie blushed and placed her hand on her forehead. Was she flustered or nauseous? Maybe her period was on the way.

Her period..... shit. Julie opened her phone and looked at her calendar counting the weeks down.

She had missed her period. Fuck, this isn’t happening. Just went things with grayson were getting good. This has to happened — a pregnancy scare. God really was testing her. Everything was just going so well, there was no stress. They boys are happy in school and at home, they laugh and smile and they rarely cry anymore. Grayson is nicer, less stressed and such a good dad. And julie, julie is feeling amazing, like she was doing something good and right with her life. She had friends, she’s on the parents council, her and grayson have a good relationship and the boys are better than ever.

Why does this have to happen? They don’t need a pregnancy scare right now.

If she was pregnant, she knows it grayson’s as she’s only had sex with him for the past two months. Not consistently — but he is the only one shes been with since ethan.

“Mama?” Alexander called out making julie put down her phone and put on her biggest smile.

“Coming” Julie said taking the coffee Grayson made her over to the dining table where her boys are. Grayson was confused and gave her a look, but julie just smiled shaking her head.

“Eat it up, pumpkin” Julie said pushing Sebastians curls away from his eyes. Grayson smiled looking at his little family. Maybe this time, he’d get them back. No olivia, no drinking, no ethan and no surprises.

Nothing is going to get in the way of him and julie getting back together.

Sebastian and Alexander decided to spend the day with their friends down the road. They have their cousins up for the weekend so they’re having a bit of a party. Julie and Grayson want them to be out and making friends, so of course they let them go. Sebastian was a little clingy, but Alexander is a little heartbreaker. But once Sebastian saw the bouncy castle, he was ok for you and grayson to leave.

Meaning you and grayson had the house to yourselves for a couple hours.

“We’ve got the house to ourself” Julie said as she walked upstairs. Grayson followed after her like a lost puppy.

“Why don’t we take advantage of that?”

Julie took off her dress, dropping it to the ground before leaning on the bed only her matching underwear set, red, just how grayson liked it. Grayson raised an eyebrow and walked over to Julie standing in between her legs. He bent down and placed his lips on hers, Julie whimpered at his touch.

“I bet you’re already soaked” Grayson whispered dropping his hand to her panties, pulling them down. He hummed to himself as he saw her pussy glistening.

“I was right” He smirked as he watched Julie squirm. “touch me” she begged and grayson laughed to himself.

“You don’t tell me what to do” Grayson stated moving away from julie. “Now strip down and move up the bed” He said and Julie nodded quickly undoing her bra and kicking off her underwear that was already by her ankles. She felt herself down her thighs, god she needed him so much. Grayson took off his shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his black boxers, he crawled up Julies body on all fours, when he reached her stomach he placed a kiss at her belly button, then licked all the way up to her breasts.

Julie felt so vulnerable, somehow Grayson could feel that. So he pecked her lips and whispered “you’re beautiful” Julie smiled and pecked his lips. Grayson kissed down her stomach and finally, he was paying attention to Julies sex. “Well, hello” He mumbled, his breath hitting off of her core making julie moan. He parted her legs even more and buried his head in between them, kissing your thighs and stomach.

“you’re so fucking wet for me, baby” Grayson moaned as he slowly ran a finger up her slit. Julie moaned and bucked her hips at his touch. Grayson smirked at julie as began to rub the smallest, softest circles on her clit.

“Please....” Julie moaned and grayson looked up with a grin.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me”

Grayson pressed himself further into julies body, julie felt his boner through his tight boxers. “i need you gray” Julie whimpered and that was enough for him. He pulled his boxers off, nearly falling off the bed to get the condoms from the bedside tables. Once he was ready, he smirked at julie teasing her nipples a little.

Grayson placed a kiss on her lips, before easing himself into her. Julie grabbed onto his broad shoulders pushing him deeper into her. “Fuck, Jules” Grayson moaned his head falling back. Julie took this as her opportunity to turn them around so she was on top.

“Always knew you were a secret dom” Grayson teased, making julie giggle. She eased graysons cock back into her, letting out a loud moan as she began to move up and down on his cock. “fuck, faster julie” Grayson moaned, his fingers digging into her hips. “so good” Julie moaned and Grayson nodded pulling her over so he was on top again. One leg was on his shoulder, the other laying on the bed. Grayson picked up the pace, making Julie scream out loud, becoming dizzy.

“I’m gonna cum” She moaned and grayson nodded pounding into her.

“Come on, baby, cum with me”

After both coming down from their climaxes, they both laughed and grayson was in Julies arms. “This is nice” Julie said running her fingers through his messy hair. Grayson nodded a kissed her chest.

“I miss us” Grayson admitted and Julie fit a sharp pain in her stomach, nerves? Butterflies?

No, she was going to throw up. She pushed grayson off of her and ran to the bathroom, spilling her breakfast into the toilet. No, No, this isn’t happening. She is not pregnant, she’s not letting this ruin her relationship.

Grayson picked up his shirt a brought it in with him. Julie was still puking her guts out, so he just put her hair up in a hair band (the best he could) and rubbed her back. She groaned into the toilet, sitting down fully. Grayson put the shower on and helped her in it.

“You ok?” He asked washing her hair. Julie nodded smiling “think it was your pancake mix” she teased and grayson rolled his eyes washing the shampoo out of her hair. He knew her full routine — she has a lot of hair and she likes to look after it. Grayson made sure her learnt it so he could wash her hair for her when she was sick or tired.

He knew it would come in hand one day.

“I think i ate something off, last night. Haven’t done the food shop yet” She explained, not completely lying. Grayson nodded and continued to wash her hair. “I have to head home tonight to get some work done, but i can help you with the food shop tomorrow?” he asked and julie smiled at the offer.

“That would be nice, gray”

They stayed in the shower for a little while longer, just enjoying each other’s company. Grayson had to leave, but he kissed her goodbye and promised he be here early tomorrow morning and not to move a muscle, he didn’t need her puking again. Julie had a glow about her, she smiled and wore her dresses again. Her hair was looked after and her skin looked amazing. And it was such stupid silly things, but it meant the world to her. Even last year, a year after the divorce, she still didn’t feel herself.

Julie felt amazing.

After getting dressed again, she picked up her phone and called sarah.

“Hey, i need you to pick me up something”

“yeah, for sure. What do you need?” Sarah asked and Julie closed her eyes leaning against the door.

“A pregnancy test”

Sarah didn’t say anything for a few second before, nodding to herself. “I’ll be there in 10. you’ll be ok, whatever the news” Sarah reassured before hanging up. Julie dropped her phone on the bed, sighing to herself. She found herself looking in the mirror, imagining how she would look with a little bump now after changing so much.

Stay positive - pun no intended.

Sarah arrived 10 minutes later as she promised pulling out a chocolate bar and a pregnancy test. Julie smiled pulling her friend into a hug. “Thank you for doing this” Julie said and sarah nodded squeezing her friend. “Of course, Jules, i’d do anything for you” She whispered and pulled away.

“Now go take the test. And i’m here, whether it’s negative or not”

Julie walked into the bathroom and took the test, setting 3 minutes timer on her phone. She remembers doing this with alexander and sebastian, she was 19 and 21 if she remembers correctly. And she had no friends, barely had a husband. She was so alone. This time, she has mountains of people and it really doesn’t make her feel any better. Julie was a only teenager when she felt pregnant with sebastian, she planned to go to college and get her dream job. Get a big, huge home and then get married. Julie took that pregnancy test in a gas station, by herself. And she cried all night after finding out, set on getting an abortion. But grayson convinced her to keep the baby — they would be a happy family, together.

Well, now she’s a mom to two kids, divorced, sleeping with her ex husband and had sex with his brother multiple times. Life really couldn’t get any better for Julie Dolan.

3 minutes ended and she was too scared to look at the test. “Sarah, can you please just read it” Julie cried and sarah quickly came into the bathroom and looked down at the test.

“You’re pregnant, Julie”

[sokkas-honour]

#17 for the spotify wrapped with zuko! <3

prom queen - zuko x reader

pairing: zuko x fem!reader

wc: 1k (it’s a short one, i didn’t feel like exploring this song too much as i associate it with a certain sort of my life. i also didn’t put too much effort into tbh, again for the same reason)

warning: if you’re sensitive to body image talk, possible diet talk, possible starvation mention, please don’t go any further. i tried to keep it as light as possible but i did project onto it a bit.

notes: i cherry picked lyrics that work best for this, and the least triggering ones. its kinda of a part two to detention as requested by @aangsupremacy (hopefully this works for you), just not a direct one.

wish i was like you, blue-eyed blondie, perfect body,

she was everything you could never be. with beautiful long black hair and an elegance that you only wish you could have. but most of all, she had the firelord’s attention, she had his heart. she had his attention ever since they were children and it was foolish of you to ever imagine things going differently.

it was foolish of you to think he’d even fall for you, the waterbender who’d been tasked to be his bodyguard ever since you two were children. it was foolish of you to think that, even though you two had been through so much together, you still would never even cross his mind as anything more than a simple friend.

all the nights you two spent on that boat, giving him a space to talk when he needed it. you had always been there for him, you were with him every step of the way from the agni kai to ba sing se, to joining the avatar and defeating ozai. you two had grown close during that time and you genuinely thought that something was happening between the two of you, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. you had forgotten that the affection that zuko felt towards mai transcended any relationship that you had built up with him. spirits did you wish you were her.

maybe I should try harder, you should lower your beauty standards,

you remembered the comments you used to get while on the boat, your body constantly being picked apart by middle aged men who didn’t have any better to do then to bodyshame a teenager. being away from the crew, a weight had been lifters off your shoulders when you found a group of friends that never said anything about your appearance nor found anything wrong with it.

you should’ve realised that when you agreed to join zuko as his advisor that the picking apart would get worse. his cabinet was still very closed minded and judgemental, none of them liked the idea of a waterbender from a watertribe to be the one advising the leader of the firenation, none of them seemed to remember that your whole childhood was spent in between these walls.

most of the time, words were never said directly to you but usually were whispers strategically placed to make sure you heard what they all thought about you. it hurt a lot but you were able to push down all of your emotions until one day, when someone who used to be a part of zuko’s crew, came to help him around the place. the crew had caught on that despite how much he aggravated you, you had a thing for zuko, so he of course made fun of you for it in front of the firelord’s officers who knew of his current relationship status. and that’s when things started to go down hill.

“i’m going to find the firelord and see what he thinks about it.” it all started when you were having a meeting with some of his esteemed generals and admirals, he was absent so you took his place which meant that some people thought it was fun to try and take advantage of your lack of authority. the only way to settle the current argument was to grab the firelord himself and drag zuko into the mess that only he could clean.

“wouldn’t want to do that, his girlfriend might think you’d want to steal him.” a misplaced teasing rang from general tao, one who seemed to always be against you.

“please, mai would take one look at her and not even think that she’d pose a threat. i mean have you seen her body?” another voice inserted himself into the conversation and you started to feel like you’d wish that you could just evaporate into thin air.

“not to mention that marrying someone from the watertribe would be absolutely dishonourable.” general sho added, a smirk on his face as he knew that all of their comments were affecting you. sho was definitely someone who liked to pretend that he didn’t miss ozai, just like half of the people in the room that laughed at the jokes.

“meeting adjourned.” you exclaimed, not wanting to even deal with them any longer and just go to your room and cry about what had happened. you were the first to stand up and go to the leave the room but right as you were about to leave, you heard one more comment.

“go cry about it, maybe you can waterbend it or, even better, loose a little.” it was the last straw and you felt your eyes prick with tears but you couldn’t show total weakness so you held your composure and scurried to your room, making sure to avoid absolutely anyone.

im no quick-curl barbie, i was never cut out for prom queen,

when you closed the door to your chamber, you threw yourself on your bed and just cried, letting all the words that everyone had ever said get to you. you knew that you weren’t ever going to make a good ruler, which is probably for the best that mai is a good contender for the position seeing as she and zuko are madly in love.

but spirits did you wish you were. you weren’t the regal type, you weren’t elegant, you weren’t raised as someone important, you were raised as a bodyguard who’s entire worth was based on wether or not you could protect the future firelord. not matter how much you tried to get over him, you couldn’t. your entire self worth had been based around him since a young age so of course it continued into your early adult years. your whole life had been intertwined with zuko and your destinies, at least that’s what you thought, were always going to be shared in a way.

maybe that’s why you tried your hardest to always be nice to him, be there for him, be a friend for him even when he didn’t want one. sometimes you wondered if you actually did love him or if it was just that if he did love you, you would actually feel like you had a place. you’d always conclude that it was the first, just seeing him happy and smile made your heart race as a fast as a rollercoaster. no one else had ever done that to you.

you remembered the one time you had ever lashed out at zuko. you were grieving and he was being selfish. you had always given him the space to talk about his feelings so you expected the same, only, it took you ignoring him for a couple of days for him to finally understand that friendship was a two way street, even when he was banished.

after that, zuko always listened to you when you needed it and spirits did you wish he was there now. you don’t exactly know what you’d tell him but in right now, you craved him just rubbing your back soothingly and letting you air out what was on your mind. those moments weren’t too common but they were precious.

you were ready to just recompose yourself in your room alone but you jumped a bit when you heard someone knock at the door.

“shit.” you mumbled, quickly trying to find somewhere to look at your reflection to wipe the tears and boy was that going to be a problem. your eyes were red, cheeks were puffy and heavily tear stained, and your hair was disheveled from gripping it as you sobbed.

there was nothing you could do but pray that whoever was behind that door was just a guard coming by to tell you something, they never commented on your current appearance as they were used to seeing the firelord in unpleasant circumstances.

you took a deep breath in and went to open the door. you felt your heart stop when you saw your best friend with a huge smile on his face.

“hey y/n, i-" zuko started off his greeting with the cheeriest voice you’d ever heard from him but the tone quickly switched once he registered that you had been crying. “are you okay?”

“yeah zuko, i’m fine.” you lied, fully aware that he could see that you weren’t and the lie was useless, but you couldn’t talk about what was going on with zuko.

“y/n i know you’re lying, you’re my best friend. and you look like you’ve just been crying.” zuko placed his hand on your cheek and rubbed his thumb gently from side to side. you sighed and leaned into it, savouring the affectionate moment.

“it’s fine, it’s nothing important.” you mumbled after a couple of seconds were spent in silence, not knowing if this was the time to tell him about the treatment that you’d received from his generals and the love that you had for him.

“you know you can tell me anything, right y/n? i learned that a while ago thanks to you. i come to you for help and advice, and vice versa.” he insisted, removing his hand, much to your dismay. his eyes filled with concern as he wasn’t going to just dismiss your feelings like the last time he’d found you crying.

“i don’t want to talk about it right now, maybe at another time.” you compromised, figuring that in a day or so you could finally come forward about it without breaking down.

“deal.” he smiled, glad that you had accepted his help.

“but you had news to tell me, so don’t let the way i look keep you from telling me.” you returned his smile, changing your tone to one of intrigue at the wonder of what got your friend so excited.

“mai said yes to the trip!” he announced giddily.

“the trip to?” you asked confused, if he had discussed this trip with you, you had completely forgotten.

“the trip where i plan to propose to her! i’m pretty sure i told you about this the other week.” he clarified, slightly confused as to why you didn’t remember as in his memory, he had talked it out with you a couple of weeks prior.

“oh yeah, that trip.” you felt your heart drop, you completely forgot about that, it was the last hope of zuko ever loving you as more than a friend, it was already small to begin with but now it was nonexistent. she would say yes and you’d have to live with the knowledge that you never said anything to him, you’d have to live with and help the new firelady, you’d have to see them rule the nation as you’d just think about your unrequited love.

“we leave the day after tomorrow, do you think she’ll say yes?” the firelord was nervous about a girl, your heart broke a bit knowing that you never had that affect on him but it was to her fault for keeping your feelings to yourself.

“of course she will zuko. the two of you are perfect for each other. you’re handsome, a great friend, you’re always there for your friends, you always want what’s best for everyone, and youre a great ruler. and mai, mai’s just drop dead gorgeous.” you rambled, not realizing that you might have raised his suspicions at your listing of his qualities but all it did was make him more confident, he must’ve only seen your small confession as a planotic one.

“thank you y/n. and when i get back, i’ll find someone for you so we can have double dates!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“yeah zuko, that’d be great.” if only he knew that the only person for you was him. you only gave him a half smile before he turned around to do whatever, leaving you alone in your room with something more to cry about.

if im pretty, will you like me? they say "beauty makes boys happy"

a little while after he left, you went out of your room to go clear your mind next to one of the turtle duck ponds. as you sat down to watch the adorable animals, you saw mai pass down the hallway that opened to the courtyard. she spotted you and waved, not bothering to stop as she probably had somewhere to be. you waved back but it made you realise something.

as you looked at your reflection, you thought of how beautiful mai was and how average you were. you’d never compare to her beauty, meaning zuko would never look at you and think ‘woah’. maybe no one would ever see you as the most gorgeous person in the four nations, all you’d be was someone who let the love of their life live with his life without knowing about your feelings.

maybe it was time to move out of the firepalace, the guards didn’t seem to like you and the comments started to get too much to hide the way it hurt you. you wouldn’t have to watch zuko and mai act all lovey dovey. youd finally move on from your life where your whole worth was based around the banished prince turned firelord. maybe you’d find love with someone who saw you as their whole world just like zuko did with mai.

maybe your life would be better.

atla taglist: @draqondance @biqherosix @missmorosis @firelady-jay

zuko taglist: @duh-dobrik

[sinceileftyoublog]

30 (Technically 34) Albums We Loved That Happened To Come Out in 2020

So much has already been said and written about this cursed past year, but a few good things came out of it, including the music. Album-wise, like many before it and many to come, it was an embarrassment of riches. But even with so much time on our hands to devour new tunes, it was often old favorites, songs of comfort or familiarity that garnered the heaviest rotation. For many artists, too, it was a year ripe for revisiting or reissues of old material, looking at existing songs with fresh and new perspectives. Simply put, with so much to listen to, new and old, the prospect of ranking a finite number of albums felt not only daunting, but frankly a bit stupid. Maybe we were late to the game, but 2020 taught us that music should and can be appreciated in multiple contexts, not limited to but including when it first came out and when it was heard again and again, even if years later. The records below--listed in alphabetical order--happened to be released in some form in 2020, whether never-before-heard or heard before but in a different format. And the only thing I know is that we’ll be listening to them in 2021 and beyond.

Autechre - SIGN & PLUS (Warp)

The legendary British electronic music duo surprise released SIGN a mere month and a half after its announcement and then PLUS 12 days later. The former was a beatific collection of soundscapes that belied the band’s usual harsh noise, while PLUS embraced that noise right back, drawing you in with the clattering chaotic burbles of opener “DekDre Scap B” and lurching forward. -Jordan Mainzer

Against All Logic - 2017-2019 (Other People)

The perennially chill ambient house artist Nicolas Jaar had a busy 2020, as usual, releasing two albums under his name, Cenizas and Telas. But it was 2017-2019, the follow-up to the debut album from his Against All Logic moniker, that came first and throughout the year helped to illustrate Jaar’s penchant for combining inspired samples with club beats and tape hiss. Take the way the lovelorn vocals of “Fantasy” or soulful coos of “If Loving You Is Wrong” war skittering, scratchy percussion and cool arpeggios, respectively: Jaar is coming into his own as a masterful producer almost a decade after he released his first full-length. Oh, and bonus points for including none other than Lydia Lunch on a banger so blunt it would make Death Grips blush. - JM

Bartees Strange - Live Forever (Memory Music)

Like many, my introduction to Bartees Strange was through Say Goodbye to Pretty Boy, his EP of The National covers. Creativity and shifting perspectives shine through each song’s reimaging, like flipping the coarse, almost manic “Mr. November” into something softer, more meditative. It felt like a mere peek into what was to come on Live Forever. Bartees Strange is a world-builder. Each track on his debut unfolds and welcomes you to a wildly engaging tableau, a fully constructed vision. “Jealousy” opens with soft vocals and birdsong. “In a Cab” is the slick soundtrack to racing through a cityscape in the rain, seeing the blurred lights of the high-rises above as you pass by. “Kelly Rowland” warps wistful pop song feelings. “Flagey God” takes you into a dark, pulsing club while only a few songs later, “Fallen For You” wraps you in echoed vocals and romantic, raw acoustic guitar.

It’s an accomplishment to craft an album of individual songs that stand strongly on their own but still feel cohesive. 2020 wasn’t all bad. It gave us Live Forever, a declaration of an artist’s arrival. - Lauren Lederman

Charli XCX - how i’m feeling now (Atlantic)

Back in the spring, many of us wondered who would put out something great in 2020’s quarantine. It was hard to imagine that the intensity of a global pandemic would really allow for artists to embrace creativity. That thought carries the same eye-roll inducing feeling of “We’ll get some great punk music out of a Trump presidency,” but of course, Charli XCX delivered. Through live workshops with fans and longstanding collaborators, she delivered songs to dance alone to in your bubble. Charli embraces the unknown of the moment but clutches onto what’s familiar. Under the glitch-pop veneer of the album, she digs into the anxieties of not just this moment of time but of the bigger questions we all confront: trajectories of relationships with friends, romantic partners, ourselves. Album standouts “forever” and “i finally understand” embrace that feeling of both looking for control and accepting the lack of it. Charli is a master at balancing this. - LL

Christine and the Queens - La Vita Nuova (Because Music)

Named after a Latin text by Dante Alighieri about missing a woman who has died, Chris’ La Vita Nuova is not about mourning a death but instead about loneliness and isolation, post-relationship or otherwise. It doesn’t bang quite like her previous two albums, but it hits harder than ever.

Read our full review here.

Dogleg - Melee (Triple Crown)

Released on March 13th, right as the COVID-19 pandemic hit, Melee was supposed to be supported by three cancelled tours–SXSW, an opening slot for Microwave, and an opening slot for Joyce Manor–and an appearance at this year’s cancelled Pitchfork Music Festival. Listening to the songs on the record, you can only imagine how they translate: the jerky momentum of “Bueno”, build-up of “Prom Hell”, gang vocals of “Fox”, clear-vocal anthem of “Wrist”, and odd groove of “Ender”.

Read “Buckle Up, Motherfucker”, our interview with Dogleg.

Dua Lipa - Future Nostalgia & Dua Lipa/The Blessed Madonna: Club Future Nostalgia (Warner)

Where Dua Lipa’s much-anticipated second album Future Nostalgia succeeded was in its disco anthems and retro, club-ready beats, so who better to bring out the best of the record than The Blessed Madonna? The turntablist masterfully curates a mix of heavy hitters of the charts and the underground that not only offers an essential complement to Future Nostalgia but transcends it. Sending the tracks out to various producers and singers for features and then adding her own samples on top, she invites you to peel back the layers, enter a YouTube rabbit hole of sample searching as much as bopping along.

Read our full review here.

Emma Ruth Rundle & Thou - May Our Chambers Be Full (Sacred Bones)

Roadburn Festival has long been on my bucket list, and since the pandemic showed me how much live music can be taken away in a flash, when it’s safe again to travel and go to a festival, I may just pull the trigger and go--especially considering it’s the springboard for such fruitful and inspired collaborations as the one between Louisville singer-songwriter Emma Ruth Rundle and Baton Rouge sludge dwellers Thou. Rundle embraces the heavier opportunities on the follow-up to her incredible 2018 record On Dark Horses with the ever-flexible Thou backing her up vocally and instrumentally. Slow-burning opener “Killing Floor” offers a familiar introduction to fans of both--sort of what a Rundle/Thou song would sound like--before grunge chugger “Monolith” introduces huge, catchy riffs and “Out of Existence” a True Widow-esque dirge, newfound inspirations for both artists bringing the best out of each other. - JM

Fiona Apple - Fetch the Bolt Cutters (Epic)

What makes Fetch the Bolt Cutters stand out among Apple’s catalog and music in general is the clarity with which Apple seethes at those who have wronged her, whether ex-boyfriends or patriarchal oppressors, and looks to her relationships with other women for peace of mind.

Read our full review here.

HAIM - Women in Music Pt. III (Columbia)

For HAIM, the title Women in Music Pt. III is suggestive that, more than their previous two records, their third centers around the experiences of being an all-female band in a historically white cis male-dominated scene, at least one that wouldn’t call catchy riffs written by a man “simple” or call attention to the faces a man makes while playing. What it doesn’t let on to is how deeply personal the record is, how, by unabashedly embracing genres and styles of music that they love, HAIM have made far and away their best album. Co-produced by the usual suspects, Danielle Haim, Ariel Rechtshaid, and ex-Vampire Weekender Rostam Batmanglij, it’s instrumentally and aesthetically dynamic and diverse, consistently earnest without devolving into cheese.

Read our full review here.

Irreversible Entanglements - Who Sent You? (International Anthem)

I’ve been captivated by Irreversible Entanglements ever since I first saw them at Pitchfork Music Festival 2018. The radical poetry of Camae Ayewa (aka Moor Mother) is the perfect front for a ramshackle mix of Luke Stewart’s spidery bass, Tcheser Holmes’ weighty drums, and a horn section that concocts tones that range from hopeful to desperate. At their best, Who Sent You? is a shining example of celebratory Afrofuturism and metaphysics that makes the urgency of Ayewa’s more concrete and political words all the more necessary. “No Más”, composed by Panamanian-born trumpeter Aquiles Navarro, is a declaration against imperialist oppression, while the stunning title track flips the switch like a Kara Walker painting, as Ayewa’s the one interrogating the police officer terrorizing her community. “Who sent you?” she repeats, never spiraling, grabbing a hold of the power and never letting go. - JM

Jeff Parker - Suite for Max Brown (International Anthem/Nonesuch)

It’s Jeff Parker’s mom’s turn. After 2016′s The New Breed ended up being a tribute to the guitarist’s father, who passed away during the making of it, Parker decided to pay tribute to Maxine while she was still alive. Suite for Max Brown (Brown is his mother’s maiden name; Max is what people call her) is a genre-bending collection of tracks inspired by Parker’s DJing, juxtapositions of sequenced beats with improvisation that certainly sound like the brainchild of one individual. Indeed, Parker plays the majority of the instruments on it and engineered most of it at home or during his 2018 Headlands Center residency in Sausalito, CA; though all of the players and the vocalist (Jeff’s daughter Ruby Parker) on The New Breed show up, plus a couple trumpeters (piccolo player Rob Mazurek and Nate Walcott of Bright Eyes) and cellist Katinka Kleijn, Suite for Max Brown is a distinctly Jeff Parker record.

Read our preview of Jeff Parker & The New Breed’s set at Dorian’s last year.

Jeff Rosenstock - NO DREAM (Polyvinyl)

Jeff Rosenstock throws us right into the spinning, manic energy of NO DREAM, his latest release from a seemingly endless well of music that never lacks urgency. It’s a reminder that though it’s been a strange year, the issues Rosenstock tackles here aren’t new. There’s no interest in making you feel comfortable here. On the album’s title track, Rosenstock sings, lulling you into a false sense of security, “They were separating families carelessly / Under the guise of protecting you and me.” But reality sets in, and the hazy guitars spin out as he spits, “It’s not a dream!” and, “Fuck violence!”

My image of Jeff Rosenstock in the year 2020 is masked up with “Black Lives Matter” scrawled across the fabric of his mask in Sharpie, performing album highlight “Scram!” on Late Night with Seth Meyers as high energy as ever. It felt like watching someone send out a beacon, both a distress signal and a call to arms. - LL

Jessie Ware - What’s Your Pleasure? (PMR/Friends Keep Secrets/Interscope)

I am not someone who goes to clubs. I don’t “go out dancing,” preferring to let loose in the privacy of my own home or a trusted friend’s house party. But Jessie Ware’s What’s Your Pleasure? makes me think I could embrace a night out like that, once the world opens up again, of course. The album is filled with syncopated disco beats that feel fresh and classic all at once. The abundant horns and strings on “Step Into My Life” are decadent, like light bouncing off sequins in a dark room. Ware’s voice is slinky and velvety one moment, windswept like her album cover the next. It’s songs like “Save a Kiss” that embrace both, allowing her to show off her range. - LL

Laura Marling - Song for Our Daughter (Partisan)

With sparse production, mostly from her but with additions from Ethan Johns and Dom Monks, Marling foregoes the comparative maximalism of the Blake Mills-produced Semper Femina, her last proper full-length, and 2018′s LUMP collaboration. The songs aren’t simple, but they’re succinct, and every element, from Marling’s finger-picked guitars, the occasional slide guitar, and that unmistakably calm voice, sometimes alone and sometimes layered, fits. It’s her most universal set of songs yet, centering around the times when we’re apart from one another but reflecting on when we were together and when we might be together again, with no guarantees.

Read the rest of our review here.

Les Amazones d’Afrique - Amazones Power (Real World Records)

The groovy pan-African collective expands upon their debut Republique Amazone and then some with Amazones Power, a tour-de-force statement of female empowerment in the face of oppression against women throughout the African diaspora. Indeed, the album is more than just songs boldly decrying FGM, though those demands ring heavily. Instead, the group goes further, delving into gender power structures in marriage on “Queens” and selectively finding strength in tradition on “Dreams”. And this time, they include men to stand alongside with them. “Together we must stand / Together we must end this,” sings Guinean musician/dancer/artist Niariu on opener “Heavy” in solidarity with features Douranne (Boy) Fall and Magueye Diouk (Jon Grace) of Paris band Nyoko Bokbae. But perhaps it’s her kiss-off on “Smile” that hits hardest: “I shut up for no one.” - JM

Lianne La Havas - Lianne La Havas (Nonesuch)

The British singer-songwriter’s much anticipated follow-up to 2015′s Blood was better than I could have ever imagined. A song cycle about life cycles--of nature, of lives, of a relationship--inspired by an actual breakup, Lianne La Havas is a contemporary neo soul masterpiece. Overview opener “Bittersweet” is an instant earworm, La Havas’ coo-turned-belt filling the space between classic and increasingly emotive slabs of piano and guitar. Funky, lovestruck strut “Read My Mind” is the soundtrack for the unbridled confidence of finding new love. Yes, the doubts begin to sow on the fingerpicked melancholy of “Green Papaya” and “Can’t Fight”, and where the album goes from a simple narrative perspective may be predictable: They break up, they don’t get back together, La Havas enjoys her independence. But the depth of the arrangements and assuredness of La Havas’ singing is a product of an artist starting to really show us what she can do. And how many people can pull off a Radiohead cover like that? - JM

Lomelda - Hannah (Double Double Whammy)

What does it mean to title an album after yourself? Lomelda’s latest album is centered around discovering more about yourself while not always having the answers. Despite the lyrical content, the album is self-assured. Hannah Read’s voice feels as steady as ever as it navigates these twisting questions, like the way the world can shift after a kiss. She finds power in softness and reflection throughout the album, like when she explores the mantra-like words of “Wonder” or through a reminder to do no harm in “Hannah Sun”. In a year that allowed for perhaps more reflection than usual, Hannah makes space for the questions that arise out of figuring yourself out, of making sense of the messiness of it all, wrapped in warm guitar, balanced vocals, and steady drums. - LL

Moses Sumney - Grae (Jagjaguwar)

“Am I vital / If my heart is idle? / Am I doomed?” Moses Sumney famously sang on his stunning 2017 debut Aromanticism, an album that saw him developing his acceptance of being alone. grae, his two-part 2nd full-length, and his first since officially moving from L.A. to the Appalachian Mountains of Asheville, North Carolina, doubles down on themes of heartbreak, but instead of being sure in his seclusion, he embraces the unknown. The album teeters between interludes of platitudes about isolation and ruminations on failed human connection, and maximally arranged clutches of uncertainty. “When my mind’s clouded and filled with doubt / That’s when I feel the most alive,” Sumney coos over horns and piano on slinky soul song “Cut Me”; it’s an effective mantra for the album.

Read the rest of our review here.

Norah Jones - Pick Me Up Off The Floor (Blue Note)

At the time we previewed Norah Jones’ 7th studio album, she had only released a few tracks from it. Turns out the rest was just as powerful. From the blues stomp of “Flame Twin” to the rolling piano stylings of “Hurts to Be Alone”, Pick Me Up Off The Floor is an album full of jazzy orchestrations and soul and gospel-indebted arrangements, Jones’ silky, yearning voice tying together the simple, yet lush and deep instrumentation. And that other Tweedy feature, that closes the album? It’s a heartbreaking portrait of loneliness, one of many on a record that still manages to celebrate being alive all the while. - JM

Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher (Dead Oceans)

Phoebe Bridgers is a master of details. Her lyrics shine when they get specific. They range from the mundane to morbid: A superfan’s ghost-like wandering under a drugstore’s fluorescent lights, a skinhead likely buried under a blooming garden, reckoning with the you in “Moon Song”’s lines, “You are sick, and you’re married / And you might be dying.” Bridgers has always been able to set a scene meticulously, and Punisher arrived with 11 songs that expanded that skill, both lyrically and musically, with her dark humor intact and a fuller sound that includes her boygenuis collaborators’ harmonies. - LL

PJ Harvey - To Bring You My Love: The Demos & Dry - The Demos (Island)

Yes, revisiting Dry’s demos as a separate entity is still worthwhile. Harvey’s powerhouse vocal performance carries the acoustic strummed “Oh My Lover”, while the comparatively minimal arrangement of “Victory” highlights bluesy riffing, call-and-response harmonies, and layered guitar and vocals. The singles, the slinky and sharp “Dress” and propulsive anthem “Sheela-Na-Gig”, hold up to their ultimate studio versions, too. But it’s the To Bring You My Love material that provides novelty because it’s never been released and more so because it encompasses the greatest aesthetic contrast from the album. From the warbling hues and guitar lines of the title track to the tremolo haze of “Teclo” to the crisp snares of “Working With The Man”, the demos show a continuity and level of cohesiveness with the diversity of Dry and Rid of Me not shown on the studio version of Harvey’s more accessible commercial breakout. (Predictably, the album’s most well-known song, “Down by the Water”, is the closest to its eventual version.) “Long Snake Moan” is simultaneously more spacious and more noisy, its garage blues a total contrast to the lurking “I Think I’m A Mother” and swaying shanty “Send His Love To Me”. And “The Dancer” fully embraces its flamenco influences, hand claps and all.

Porridge Radio - Every Bad (Secretly Canadian)

Is there a better opening line than “I’m bored to death, let’s argue”? That kind of duality is found across all of Every Bad as it grapples with the frustrations and anxiety of trying to figure it all out, whatever that might mean for you. “Maybe I was born confused, but I’m not,” vocalist Dana Margolin repeats throughout the opening track, roping in listeners with the dizzying feeling of trying to make sense of yourself. The band’s guitar and synth sound coupled with Margolin’s howl makes for a dance party filled with dread, rendering Margolin’s already strong, repetitive lyrics even more spiraling. And yet, by the time we get to “Lilacs”, a glimmer of something else shines through as the music gets more manic and Margolin’s voice begins to soar: “I don’t want to get bitter / I want us to get better / I want us to be kinder / To ourselves and to each other.” - LL

Sault - Untitled (Rise) & Untitled (Black Is) (Forever Living Originals)

Yes, Black Is still pulls plenty of devastating punches. “Eternal Life”, a segue from the gospel boost of “US”, juxtaposes a deliberate drum beat with zooming synths, both ascending like a chorus of angels, as they sing, “I see sadness in your eye / ‘Cause I know you don’t wanna die,” presenting the oppression of Black life at the hands of white supremacy in inarguable terms. Ultimately, though, it’s the anthemic nature of the songs, resistant of platitudes, that shines through. “Nobody cared / This generation cares,” says Laurette Josiah on “This Generation”. Whether she’s talking about young people in general or the latest generation of young Black leaders, the sentiment is reflected on songs like “Black”, wherein over dynamic, sinewy instrumentation, the singers alternate between encouragement, support, and love of the self and others.

Read our full review here.

Shamir - Shamir (self-released)

Shamir’s voice is a bright beacon in a sea of conventional singers. Shamir captures the effervescence of pop music and weaves it together with elements of country, alt rock, and diary confessional lyrics all supported by the emotion and range of his vocals. There’s something for everyone across the album’s 11 shimmering tracks. Lead single and opener “On My Own” feels like a declaration of self and self-sufficiency, an anthem of a breakup song. The almost pop-punk bounce of “Pretty When I’m Sad”, paired perfectly with lines like the angst-ridden, “Let’s fuck around inside each other’s heads,” feels impossible to not bop along to. The twang of “Other Side” would put a country crooner to shame. That’s the power of Shamir. His voice has the ability to smoothly convey joy, resilience, and humor. He uses elements of several genres, not just the dance-pop of his debut, to build a unique album that gives listeners so much to sift through and, of course, dance to. - LL

Songhoy Blues - Optimisme (Fat Possum)

If Songhoy Blues’ second album Resistance lacked “the grit of its predecessor,” it’s clear from the hard rock stomp of the opening track of Malian band’s third album Optimisme that they rediscovered their mojo. More importantly, they couple this maximal brashness with tributes to those who make their world a better place: fighters for freedom, women, the young. It’s perhaps the first Songhoy Blues record to truly combine the celebratory nature of their desert blues with a balanced mixture of idealism and vigor. - JM

Spanish Love Songs - Brave Faces Everyone (Pure Noise)  

How can you find hope in hopelessness, or optimism when every news story points to cruelty? Is it naïve to keep searching for light in the dark? I don’t think so, and I don’t think Spanish Love Songs does, either. I’d like to think we both believe that’s not naivety, but power. It’s the embers you need to really ignite a flame. After all, this is the band with a song titled “Optimism (As a Radical Life Choice)”. It’s a band whose crunching guitars and earnestness insist that despite death and depression and addiction, the instinct to survive shines brightly above all. That relentless hope resurfaces across Brave Faces Everyone’s 10 tracks even as it works through the bleakness of everyday life. - LL

Tashi Dorji - Stateless (Drag City)

The magnum opus from the Asheville-based picker is a group of evocatively titled, disorderly songs about the desolate hellscape of America for outsiders and immigrants. Enigmatic in its nature, not exactly narrative, Stateless combines Dorji’s urgent strumming with moody motifs, captured beautifully in a studio setting for maximum emotional wallop. - JM

Touche Amore - Lament (Epitaph)

Is this what an almost uplifting Touche Amore album sounds like? It’s cathartic in a newer way for the band, especially after the beautifully rendered grief of Stage Four. Lament loses none of the band’s aggression or urgency. “Come Heroine” thrusts listeners into that urgency and introduces a moment of warmth, Jeremy Bolm’s vocals still rasping and insistent: “You brought me in / You took to me / And reversed the atrophy.” The bounciness of “Reminders” may seem close to optimism, but a sharper look at the lyrics uncovers more than blindly looking to the things that bring joy. “I’ll Be Your Host” is reflective, a few years removed from Touche Amore’s previous album and the immediacy of loss, self-aware and growing, but still raw. The album closer, “A Forecast”, takes a turn, a lone voice and piano acting as a confessional before giving way to thrashing guitars and the realization that growth and reckoning with trauma doesn’t mean minimizing it. It means learning to keep moving forward and to stop for help when you may need it. - LL

Waxahatchee - Saint Cloud (Merge)

The best album yet from Katie Crutchfield is inspired by positive personal change (getting sober, dealing with codependency issues, her blossoming love with singer-songwriter Kevin Morby) and reflections on family and friends. Named after the suburb of Orlando where her father’s from, Saint Cloud is a genre-hopping collection of stories and feelings that doesn’t necessarily follow any semblance of narrative. On opener “Oxbow” and country-tinged ditty “Can’t Do Much”, Crutchfield’s increasingly aware of the need to pick your side and your battles, whether in the relationship between two people or between the allure of the bottle and the next-day hangover. Some of the best songs on the album see her finding commonalities with others as a means towards self-love. Gentle strummer “The Eye” refers to her natural creative relationships with Morby and her sister Allison. “War” she wrote for herself and best friend, who is also sober, the title a metaphor for one’s fight to remain substance-free. “Witches” is an ode to her best friends, including Allison and Snail Mail’s Lindsey Jordan, all equally frustrated by the toxic nature of the music industry and the world at large, ultimately lifting each other up because they simply have each other.

Read our full review here.

[techmomma]

I made big progress with my trauma recovery the other day! I’m really proud of doing a very hard thing, and honestly doing so made me feel so much better.

Said growth involves realizing some unfun things, so y’know, look out for that under the read more, even if I consider this a hopeful, uplifting realization by the end. Christ this is long, have fun reading this word wall.

So I essentially lived in a bitter divorce household. Y’know, when the two parents have an awful, agonizing divorce that pits the kids’ loyalties against each parent and each other and themselves.

I grew up in that. Except they never actually divorced. Or separated. Not till after I’d moved out, anyway. So 20+ years of living in a household where my parents flip-flopped between “trying to make it work” and “screaming at each other and bitterly trying to corral their kids in this us-vs-them, me vs your other parent toxic tug of war.”

Why didn’t they divorce? Codependency and religious pressure because both were previous divorcees, one was an excommunicated catholic because of this, and the other was a narcissist who couldn’t admit defeat and made a promise to god to make it work for fear of the shame that would come from failing again! What a winning pair! Who definitely did not mutually cheat on one another and then act scandalized and eternally vindictive about this.

Anyway, what this meant for Steph’s psyche was every day was an eternal battleground of loyalty tests. Any disagreement was disloyalty. Saying the wrong thing could be taken as disloyalty. Yet, y’know. You don’t want to be disloyal to the other parent that you love. You don’t wanna throw them under the bus. You just wanna say what you saw happened.

Which meant every answer became this tightrope of not only validating and appeasing one parent’s ego, but also finding the diplomatic thing to say so as not to implicate the other parent, or get that parent in trouble, or appear disloyal because that too could come around to bite you in the ass. Sometimes we agreed with what one parent was saying, but taking issue with a small part or one aspect? This was seen as fully disagreeing and being disloyal.

You can imagine the pressure this put on an already socially-awkward kid, ages 4-20, to find the exact correct thing to say. It rarely worked out.

But I figured out a clever loophole early on: if I shut down, if I didn’t make a peep, if I said not one word—sure. That parent would be mad at me for not responding. They’d be made I wasn’t saying anything. They might yell louder, or guilt me, or threaten me with some form of humiliation.

But not saying anything was so, so much better than any alternative. Never once did speaking up end well.

If you know about pavlovian training, you can probably quickly see the conditioning that was set in. Parent would state an opinion, about anything. Give validation. Parent looks for validation about shitty feelings about other people? Don’t say a peep, let parent be mad, and eventually they’ll either get so frustrated they give up, or they say their piece and get whatever was on their chest off of it. Either way, they leave me alone. Maybe after three hours of screaming at me, but three hours could turn into six if I made them more mad by disagreeing or seeming disloyal.

And for the record, when I talk about loyalty, I’m not saying they were asking about actual loyalty. They wanted me to agree with their opinions. They wanted me to be on their side, their ally, no matter what the other parent said. It was all or nothing. “You’re with me or against me.”

Made all the more complicated that sometimes, if you seemed disloyal to the other parent, the supposed “enemy” in the situation, the first parent might berate you for that too. “How could you talk about your mother/father that way? How could you say those things?” Despite having been saying worse things minutes before.

They were volatile. The smallest, stupidest things could become full-blown arguments that could last for hours, at the top of their lungs. After which they might turn that to us, the kids, to get out whatever was left in their system I guess. Small questions, statements, became tests. Answer wrong, and there would be hell to pay. The most innocuous things could become loyalty tests. But most of all, the most discerning tests came when they were complaining about the other. When Dad complained about Mom, and when Mom complained about Dad. “Agree with me,” they said between lines, “Are you on my side? Aren’t they terrible?”

I just wanted to love both of my parents. I never wanted to choose.

My epiphany came when I realized that when others seek comfort from me, when looking for validation during shitty events or people being mean to them—y’know, normal things people do with friends—I was having emotional flashbacks. I was being triggered into a state of trauma, my brain receding to that familiar shutdown state. Terrified that whatever I say to comfort them, whatever I say to help them feel better, would be taken as a loyalty test. To voice even slight disagreement could be disloyalty.

My friends had never tested me. But my brain was reacting so firmly and my body so wholly that I had no idea. I try to be aware of my emotional states and how my body reacts but this shutdown response has just been so normal for so long, and such a large bodily feeling, that I never noticed what it was. And it wasn’t until watching a video about this type of situation, feeling like you have to validate someone not necessarily from a place of concern but of fear, that I realized what was happened.

I realized how deep the rabbit hole went. This has been happening for decades. At work, when coworkers would complain or even just chat normally about other coworkers, my brain was shutting down out of fear that my loyalty was being tested, I was being scrutinized for disagreement. When customers talked about my coworkers, my brain was shutting down, terrified to say the wrong thing and either disagree with said customer or throw my coworker under the bus. I shut down when friends talk about other friends, when people talk about other people and maybe I agree, but there’s an aspect or idea in the situation that I don’t agree with, or maybe I’m just seeing things differently from an outside perspective.

But every time, I was terrified. I was so scared that my brain returned to trauma, returned to that shutdown state from childhood (and some adulthood), because shutting down, previously, had always yielded the better result. Staying quiet, keeping my head empty and my thoughts blank, kept me safe for twenty years.

And now I can’t hear other people talking in a room without returning to that same shutdown state, for fear that they are arguing and I will be forced to choose between people. To love one friend more than another. Forced to pick a side, forced to soothe their emotions because if I don’t, things will be so many times worse. Heaven forbid they have disagreeing opinions, even if they’re calmly sorting them out, communicating in a healthy way. God help me if they’re actually arguing. I can’t think, I can’t even speak sometimes, voice pulled tight like I’m being strangled; I can’t even squeak out a sound. It hurts too much. It hurts so much.

Sometimes I can hear people through my earbuds or headphones and all I can do is lay on my bed and plug my ears with my fingers as tight as possible and try to hum a song, try to force a mantra to drown out the sound as I desperately try to soothe myself with some kind of stim, even if it’s just rocking side to side on the bed.

I knew I had problems with listening to people disagreeing. But I realized the other day how deep the rabbit hole goes. How often, daily sometimes, I’ve been having emotional flashbacks. How thoroughly this has been effecting my life, my relationships, my sanity.

It’s been so exhausting. Realizing how many things connect back to this central issue of toxic loyalty that I grew up with, how thoroughly engrained this trauma is in my life. Realizing I’ve been having emotional flashbacks almost every day, for decades.

I’m so tired.

But I’m really glad I did. It’s putting a name to the beast. I am finally getting to the heart of an issue that was so much larger than I originally thought but in turn, there is so much potential to truly grow and heal. If I know the beast, then I can know how to face it. I can know how to use CBT therapy for this, how to weaken it to progress. And I’m really glad for it.

I also did something very hard: directly forcing myself to face it, and told my roommates about this deep-set fear. I realized that I don’t often just talk about how I’m feeling, I usually do so in the context of like having an issue or a problem that we need to talk out or talk through. I don’t usually just say, “I’m really really scared of this thing.”

I told my roommates this realization and like the wonderful, amazing friends they are, they understood. It’s an internal problem for me, something just for me to work on. It’s my issue. But now... they know that if I go quiet when discussing other people, or leave the room when disagreements are happening, I’m not just trying to blow them off or or be wishy-washy. I imagine there have been many times in the past when a friend has come in need of support and my answer came across weird or like I was trying to change the subject and it was awkward and not what they were hoping for.

Now they know that my response might be weird because I’m having a flashback. I’m scared, my brain is shutting down and I can’t think.

And that’s okay. It’s okay to be scared in front of my friends. It’s okay to experience that trauma in front of them. I don’t have to try to pretend I’m okay or try to push through the fear when I really, really can’t. It’s okay to need a subject change or even to just listen quietly if I don’t necessarily want my friend to stop venting, I just may not be able to answer in a beneficial way. I may be shutting down and sometimes all I can do is wait it out. And that’s okay.

I don’t have to validate other people because I’m scared. Because I think I’m being tested.

I felt better not just because talking about these things helps but also because a weight was lifted. One of my main triggers is feeling like I have to respond and have to respond correctly Or Else. But now that they know, that weight is off of my shoulders. I can be afraid and not able to respond and they understand why now. I don’t have to try to keep up that lie or try to put on a face or try to push through it.

I can be scared. And letting yourself be scared is the first step to healing from it. I don’t have to pretend to not be scared anymore.

I always know I’ve hit the hammer on the head when it comes to my emotional issues because I start crying and even just typing this out made me weepy, haha. It’s a good weepy though. I made a big step, and I’m really proud of myself. My instinct was to take this and agonize quietly over it myself, find my own solution on my own and deal with it on my own. But I didn’t. I reached out, and it was scary and hard and it hurt and now I’m so, so much better off for it, and now I can really start healing. I can change this.

God I’m so tired tho. Holy shit.

[jazziwritesthings]

Hurt- Peter Hale

Not based on a song for once!

This was a request from anon: Hii, i was wondering if you could write Peter Hale x human reader where reader gets hurt and tries to hide it, he smells her blood and when he tries to help, she backs away, so he manhandles her into his lap so she can't move so that he can look her over? I'm sorry it's weird and specific.

Pairing: Peter Hale x Reader

Wordcount: 1193

Warnings: Pregnancy, miscarriage, manhandling?

A/N: If you are triggered by pregnancy of miscarriage I strongly suggest not reading this. Please. Stay Safe.

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

You and Peter had been together for what seems like forever. Neither of you could really keep track, you know, with all the dying and coming back to life. But for the last two years you two had been actively trying to have a baby. It was something both of you wanted and you felt it was finally time. The universe however, thought differently. You had tried basically everything. Your doctor kept telling you to keep trying. That there wasn’t anything that should be preventing you from getting pregnant. You and Peter have spent countless hours doing research and figuring out what foods to eat and which to avoid, different positions, even medications. Nothing was helping and you were getting so down. You stopped trying for a few months, Peter just loved you the best he knew how and slowly you came out of it and wanted to start trying again.

It was only a few months after you started trying the second time that you got the two pink lines. You were beyond excited. You weren’t even able to hold it in to surprise Peter like you had wanted. Instead, once you saw those two pink lines you rushed out of the bathroom and jumped right on to Peter’s lap and gave him the biggest kiss ever. “ What was that for?” He smiled at you once you had pulled away. You pulled the test from your back pocket and handed it to him. “Two lines…” He was quiet and it looked like he was thinking, “ Two lines!!” This time it was an excited yell and he scooped you up into his arms and twirled you around. He slowly put you down on the ground and knelt in front of your stomach. He gently placed his hands on your sides and leaned his head into your abdomen. He was quiet for quite sometime before you saw the slightest tear find its way down his cheek. “Oh baby.” You put your hands on his face and pulled him up to meet you. “ I can hear it.” You guess you looked confused because he put his forehead against yours and whispered, “ I can hear the heartbeat.”

You were nearing 8 weeks, that was when you were going to tell everyone. They had known about your struggle, but you wanted to plan something big since you couldn’t when you told Peter. You had decorated the apartment with a whole bunch of different baby items, from pacifiers to clothing, even going so far as to have someone make a cake that has bottles on it. Waiting for everyone to arrive was pure torture to you. You were picking at everything wanting it all to be perfect. You had instructed them to wait in the hallway until they were let in. You got a text that said everyone was there, just waiting to be let in. Peter opened the door and everyone flooded in. It was quiet for a few seconds before Stiles blurted out, “ Why are there little clothes everywhere? Did you shrink your wash?” This caused you to giggle and everyone looked toward you where you stood under a banner that said , “Welcome Baby Hale.” There were a few gasps before you were engulfed in what seemed like millions of hugs. There were quite a few growls from Peter as people got way too close to you for his liking. After everyone had given hugs and were sitting down now talking amongst themselves Peter found his way to your side. He let out a low growl, “ What.” You giggled as he buried his face in your neck from behind. Derek let out a low laugh, “ You smell like a mixture of all of us now, he doesn’t like it.” This caused you to giggle and turn around in his arms. “Mr. Hale, are you jealous of our friends?” Without answering he just pulled you closed into him, trying hard to make sure that the only scent left on you was his.

You were just nearing 12 weeks when you felt like something was different. You didn’t voice your concern to Peter. Instead of worrying him more than he already was, you booked yourself a doctors appointment and went by yourself. What you got was not good news. You went home feeling empty and numb. Walking into the loft you sat down on the couch and cried to yourself. When Peter came home that evening he saw you just lying in bed. He rushed to your side, “What’s wrong?” This just caused a few more tears to fall. He nodded and tried to kiss your head. You moved away from him. You saw the hurt look on his face but you knew what you had to tell him would hurt far more. You stayed in bed for almost 2 whole days before you felt it. You rushed to the bathroom and when you saw the toilet full of blood you broke down. You were crying so hard that you couldn’t breathe. You stayed in the bathroom for a few hours. The only thing that took your mind away from the trauma that had just occurred was hearing Peter call for you. He hadn’t been home all day, he was helping the pack with some important things and you couldn’t bear to tell him. You heard him walk around a bit before you heard him run to the bathroom. He tried opening the door but you had it locked. He started rapidly knocking on the door. Then calling your name. You just continued to cry. Finally you opened the door and he went to pull you into a hug but you put your arms out telling him not to. He looked at you and then his face changed, it went from worried to frantic. “ What happened? Why do I smell blood? Are you hurt?” He got closer to you and you tried backing away again but it didn’t work. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him. You kept pushing on his chest. Repeatedly telling him to let go. You were so broken that the only thing you did was start to punch his chest and tell him to leave. “You need to go! You don’t need me! You can do so much better than me!” He finally had enough of these words, “ Y/N STOP!” His yell startled you and you began to cry again. He softened his grip and you were able to back up. He followed you into the bedroom and sat on the bed. You weren’t standing too far away from him so he took his chance and pulled you forcefully into his lap. He started looking you over. When he found no wound he looked at your face. He saw this defeated look in your eyes that had never been the dark before. “What happened?” You shook your head and buried your face into his neck. He stayed quiet while your breathing became normal then he strained his ears to listen. He listed for a good long while before coming to the realization that he only heard 2 heartbeats and not 3.