#because my mind goes a mile a minute when i'm asked anything open-ended and when that happens it is impossible for me to be brief lmao

[detransdamnation]

I am not the same anon but i hope you dont feel any ounce of guilt even if you answer this days later, take good care of yourself as much as possible. Onto the question. Do you have some ideas on what could be the main reasons for dysphoria to develop in a young person and why? Do you think things like same sex attraction could be a big factor to sparkle up dysphoria? Even though i struggle to understand how some people stay okay being same sex attracted and in their bodies and some want nothing to do with their body. And in the more tragic case, CSA could have some impact on developing it as well? Or maybe you have some other takes on it, i would be very curious to hear (well. read)

Thank you for your kind words and patience in my getting back to you, Anon.

To zero in on the same sex attraction aspect since that is what you specifically inquired about, yes, I do think that it could be a factor in some cases. However, as the saying goes, correlation does not necessarily equal causation and I think we need to be careful in not inadvertently insinuating that when having these discussions for a couple different reasons. From a gender-critical perspective, I can look back on my childhood and conclude that my dysphoria developed partially because I grew up in a homophobic environment and (unconsciously) further perpetrated that homophobia onto myself. It was not my same sex attraction that was wrong, but “society,” if you will.

However, I was not always able to do this, simply because I have not always been gender-critical. Many transgender people—and especially youth—come from a place of (often severe) internalized homophobia as same sex-attracted people. So, when someone states that same sex attraction may be a factor in dysphoria and transgender identity without explaining (or even mentioning) the why behind that, I view that as flippant—because someone with internalized homophobia can interpret that to mean, “I am dysphoric because I am bi- and/or homosexual.” Our sexualities become the reason for our turmoil—and through that, they, once again, become something for us to hate.

It also just gives way too much room for people who don’t actually have anyone’s best interests at heart to be homophobic. When we say that most dysphoric and trans people are homo- or bisexual and just leave it at that, what do we think a trans-critical homophobe is going to think? I can tell you they’re not going to reflect on their own biases. They’re going to take that to mean that same sex attraction is some sort of mental illness and that dysphoria is a symptom of it. It shifts the blame from homophobic societal structures to the person who is the victim of them. These are different sides of the same coin: When we fail to be mindful in analyzing and discussing the links between dysphoria and sexuality, both groups receive confirmation that same sex attraction is a problem.

I want to both clarify and emphasize, Anon, that I am not making a direct criticism of your own words but rather providing a general commentary on what I have personally seen and how I think it may affect people in ways we may not immediately realize. I feel that consideration of how these statements may come off is sometimes lacking, and as someone who was affected by that when I first started questioning my own transition, I felt it appropriate to mention here. I wish that more emphasis was put on social attitudes, rather than personal attraction, when discussing dysphoria and how it may be linked to sexuality—because that puts the focus on society as a whole rather than singling out one single aspect of a person that they are, very likely, already deeply struggling with. Same sex attraction is the correlation in dysphoric people; hatred of that attraction is the cause of that dysphoria. There is a difference between the two. It is essential we do not overlook it.

To address your other inquiry, I can also speak from personal experience in that my history of abuse did play a significant role in my dysphoria in retrospect. At the age I started identifying as transgender, I was not yet emotionally mature enough to understand that I was being abused. I just knew that people who were supposed to love and protect me instead harmed and took advantage of me, and I did not like that. My upbringing caused me to become passively suicidal from a very young age, which I then understood as wanting to “start over”—and it just so happened that transness eventually gave me that chance. I guess you could say that dysphoria was an expression of that pain and transition was an attempt at escaping it. Myself, as a child, was an abuse victim, a pawn, a pet—but myself, as a trans adult, was who I was outside of that. I fought so viciously to protect my transness because to criticize it felt—and still feels—like killing who I could have been.

Of course, I can only speak for myself, and frankly, that is the only person I want to speak for when it comes to abuse—but this is not just a personal thing. Virtually every single person in the trans community that I was in was also an abuse victim and abuse victims consistently remain(ed) a shocking majority in the communities outside of my own. I do not believe that that is just a coincidence.

I think that the need for control is a significant factor that unites both of these scenarios. I did eventually learn what homophobia was and came to terms with the fact that I had been abused. What I didn’t want to accept was that these things contributed to my pain—because I could not change them. I could not rid the world of homophobia. I could not keep my abusers from being abusive. But if I was the cause of my pain and the solution to that pain was right there, that meant that I could fix it. If everything was “just” dysphoria, that meant that I could heal myself without waiting around for those who hurt me to change. To consider the influence of anything that existed outside of my own mind was to lose hope because it shown a light on everything that I had no power to change as an individual among billions. When so many of us are already disadvantaged in some way from the get-go and we have absolutely no say in any of it, it only makes sense that we would turn that pain inwards and develop dysphoria—and when transition feels like (and is marketed as) the obvious solution, of course we will go through with it. It is our way to have a say. It is no wonder so many of us view transition as empowering when you look at it like that.

So, to finally address your leading question, “Do you have some ideas on what could be the main reasons for dysphoria to develop in a young person and why?” I believe that a variety of factors could be at play and for different reasons for different people. This is not just my own personal opinion; it has been shown that dysphoria and transgender identity tend to be especially concentrated in specific demographics and it would be ignorant of me to discount that. However, beyond citing what is demonstrably obvious and sharing my own experiences in an effort to offer perspective, I do not feel I am in a position to theorize what may or may not have caused someone else’s dysphoria. I strongly believe that dysphoric people need to come to that understanding themselves.

I also do not personally believe that there is a “main reason” on as to why dysphoria may develop in a young person in all cases. I suppose my own “main reason” would be that I fell into the trans community because I never thought seriously about transitioning prior to that time—but the thing is, even if I hadn’t, I would still be dealing with everything else that influenced my getting to this point. I cannot completely divorce all of the things that feed into my dysphoria because they also feed into each other. If I were to take the trans community out of that equation, it would just be the influence of the trans community missing. It is impossible to say whether or not I would have still gone down this same path without that. I honestly think it is just as likely that what remains would simply replace what no longer applies. Dysphoria is like a web. Webs are sticky things.

And as to why some people develop dysphoria while others do not, who knows? Throughout my medical transition as a teenager, every second or third person I talked to either had a full-blown eating disorder, or was on their way to developing one. I was under constant unconscious influence to go down that same path. I struggle with all of the known psychological risk factors in eating disorder development and was also raised in ways that are known to encourage them to develop overtime. Meanwhile, dysphoria was essentially unknown to everyone outside of my bubble. Why, then, did I develop dysphoria when it would have made more sense for me to develop an eating disorder? I don’t know. I don’t think there is a way to know.

At the end of the day, I truly do think whether or not one goes on to develop dysphoria is just a matter of luck (or rather, lack thereof). That is the unfortunate nature of mental illness. Sometimes you get it, sometimes you don’t, and there’s really no “reason” on as to why you have it while someone else with similar experiences might not. But even if there were a reason for it, even if I could pinpoint exactly what caused my dysphoria, I can honestly say that no comfort would come from my knowing—because knowing would not change the fact that I have it. I cannot go back, only forward, and in doing so, I have made peace with that ambiguity.

I sincerely hope this answer makes up for how long I made you wait for it.

[fanficforlife]

Chapter Seven

"And?" Anna asked, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. 

"And, we dropped Tate off at school then we picked up a few things for the ranch. After he took me fishing at the river. We didn't catch anything but I did push him in. He pulled me in with though."

There was laughter on the other end of the phone and you couldn't help but let out a giggle. "Oh, honey. I'm so happy for you. Have you told him yet?"

"Um, one time when we were kissing a few weeks ago it started to go a bit further, I freaked out. A flashback of the last time Nick..."

"And?"

"I told him that Nick r-raped me. He figured it out actually and I just confirmed it. I know I need to tell him everything but I'm scared. I...I really like him. What if he changes his mind about me? What if he tells me to leave because he doesn't want to risk it if Nick does find me? He has Tate to think about so-"

"Violet," she cut you off, "if he's as great of a man as he sounds, everything will be okay. Especially since his father and brother know and they asked you to stay after you told them."

"Yeah..."

"There's only one way to find out and the longer you wait, the harder it will be for you to tell him. It's kind of like a bandaid, just rip it off."

"I know, you're right. John is watching Tate tonight so Kayce and I can have dinner. We're going to have it in an old trapper's cabin on their property. If we tried to in the house, Tate would be there talking a mile a minute... I should, I will tell him tonight."

"It's going to be okay, hun."

"I hope so." You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "I should go so I can start getting ready."

"Alright. Don't worry about telling him, honey. I love you and I can't wait for you to tell me that he didn't change his mind because of him."

"I love you too. Tell James I said hi. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how it goes. Have a good night."

"You too. Talk soon, hun."

*

A knock on your bedroom door drew your attention away from your reflection in the mirror. You opened it to see Kayce standing there wearing jeans, a black button-up shirt, his boots, and a cowboy hat. 

His jaw dropped when he saw you. "Letty, you look amazing."

"Thank you." Heat crept across your cheeks as you looked down at the simple flowy, knee-length black dress with straps tied into bows on top of your shoulders that you had on. "You look nice too. I even got clean jeans this time." You teased. The other times the two of you had spent time together, it was usually during work or right after he was done. He was almost always dusty or dirty, not that you were complaining. He always looked good.

"Only the best for you." The red on your cheeks darkened and he smirked, stepping forward. He leaned in and gave you a small, soft kiss. "Ready to go?"

"Mhm." You slipped your hand in his waiting one and headed for the front door. 

*

The two of you walked hand in hand across the yard and through some trees until you got to the cabin. He opened the door for you and the smell of pizza hit you. One of my favorites. "You remembered." 

"Of course I did. It's pretty easy since it's also one of Tate's." He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you your waist. "I had to go to town to pick up some stuff for the ranch so I picked one up for date night." After placing a kiss on the side of your head, he took your hand and went inside. 

An hour later your plate was still full and you hadn't spoken more than a handful of words. You had only been able to pick at the slice due to the nerves already filling your stomach. 

"Baby?" Kayce's hand wrapped around yours, pulling you away from your thoughts. "Are you feelin' okay?"

"Yeah, I just- I'll be right back." You got up and went into the washroom. Your hands gripped the edge of the vanity. Tears pricked your eyes from the what if's. What if he breaks up with me? What if he wants me to leave? What if he gets mad? No, it doesn't matter. I have to tell him. After taking a deep breath and forcing the tears back, you opened the door. 

He immediately stood up and walked over when he saw the look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"I...I'm ready to tell you everything."

He guided you to the couch and you both sat down. Your eyes immediately went to your lap. "Hey," He gently hooked his finger under your chin and lifted it. "Remember, no matter what."  

A sad half-smile formed before you took a deep breath. "Um, it-it was always just me and my mom. I never knew my dad and she didn't have any other family. She was the best. She was a waitress at this great little restaurant and during high school, I started working there too." Your hands wrung together tightly. "The...the last month of my senior year I met Nick. He just finished training to be a police officer and started at the station a few blocks from the restaurant. He asked me out a week later. My mom didn't like him but she said it was my decision. Ten months later she died in a car accident. She was always trying to get me to break up with him but I loved him. I should have listened to her..." You trailed off as happy memories of your mom played through your head. 

"I'm sorry, baby." His hands reached for yours and you squeezed them gratefully. 

"I couldn't afford our rent by myself so Nick asked me to move in with him. Everything was good for the next year. Then the real Nick started to poke through. When he got mad he would call me names or say things but he always apologized and everything would be okay again. It went on like that for a couple more years. He became a detective and was great at it." You swallowed. "His parents were having a dinner party with their friends and family the night of my twenty-fourth birthday. They invited us and Nick insisted we go so we went. Before dinner, his parents thanked everyone for coming. Then Nick went up. He asked me to marry him, I said yes. The dinner party was actually to celebrate our engagement. Things went downhill from there. He went from just saying things to grabbing and pushing me. He was always jealous but it started getting worse." You took a shaky breath at the memories. "He wanted me to quit waitressing even though I loved it. His family came from money, his dad's the mayor, his mom stayed home. He never had to worry about working if he didn't want to. Whenever we were out and he had to introduce me to family or friends, they would make a disgusted face, like I wasn't good enough. I could tell he was embarrassed I was just a waitress so I quit. It wasn't long after that that he started getting mad about me still hanging out with my friends. I didn't have many, just a few people I worked with. He eventually cut them out of my life. That's when I started baking, I needed something to do. I also had to keep the house spotless or he'd get mad." You took a deep breath while Kayce's hand had a death grip on yours. "One day when I was doing laundry I found a girl's phone number in his pocket. When he got home I confronted him about it. He got mad at me for going through his stuff and admitted he had been cheating on me the entire time we were together. I took off my ring and set it on the table. He...he hit me."

Kayce let out a gruff breath.

"He apologized right away and swore he would stop. I knew I shouldn't but he has a way of getting into people's heads and I believed him." 

"He didn't change." Kayce gritted out and you shook your head. 

"A couple of months later I smelled perfume on his shirt. He kept picking up girls at the bar or getting together with old ones. I tried to break up with him and he got mad. He said the other girls didn't matter. I was the one he wanted to marry and be seen with. I laughed and he hit me, hard. He picked me up off the floor and pushed me against the wall, he said I couldn't leave because he needed me and couldn't live without me. He said he'd stop. He begged, got on his knees. I knew...I knew I should have left but I was scared, he was all I had. The things he said, I wanted to believe him. The next few months we moved into a new house and his mom and sister said we should finally start planning the wedding because I kept putting it off. I tried on dresses worth more than a years worth of rent for my old apartment, tried countless flavors of cake. We set the date for ten months later but there was something deep inside, a feeling. I couldn't marry him. When I told him, he lost it. He threw pictures on the floor, swore, and said terrible things. I told him I would stay so he would stop. After he fell asleep, I threw a few things in a bag, took the money he had in his wallet, and snuck out. He found me a few hours later at a motel on the edge of town. He dragged me home, hit me, choked me. I ran into our bedroom but couldn't lock the door in time. He threw me onto the bed and...and said he needed to remind me that I was his."

"Fuck." Kayce's fist hit the arm of the couch. "Letty, baby." His hand came back to yours.

You gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. "The next few weeks, I acted like nothing was wrong. I made dinner, went to his family or friends when he wanted. When he got mad he would hit me, choke me. I was outside having coffee one afternoon when the neighbors came out. They saw me and invited me over. I talked to them a few times in passing but it was always just a hi. I invited them over instead so if Nick came home early he would know where I was and wouldn't freak out. They told me all about their lives. He used to be a lawyer before he retired. They didn't have any kids, they loved traveling. I lost track of time and Nick came home. He was mad because dinner wasn't ready until he saw I wasn't alone. He changed back into the fake we're the perfect couple Nick as they got up and left. The second the door closed he hit me. He thought I told them about what he was like and since they didn't know him they would believe me. He didn't want me to talk to them anymore. I knew I had to get out but I didn't have my own money. I wasn't working and my name wasn't on his bank account or any of his credit cards. I started hiding the money I found in his pockets when I did laundry or what he left lying around on the dresser. I would take money out of his wallet whenever there was a lot in there so he wouldn't miss it. After a month and a half, I had almost two thousand dollars. When he went to work that day I packed a couple of bags and left. He found me two weeks later in Mississippi. He grabbed me and threw me in the car but on the drive back to California, he was quiet. He was the Nick from the very beginning of our relationship. He said he didn't know what he was thinking the past few years, cheating on me, hitting me. He said he would go to a therapist, we could go. I wanted to believe that he actually changed this time but the closer we got to Southaven, where we lived, the more scared I got. Our neighbors were outside when he pulled into the driveway. Nick told me to stay in the car and he would open the door for me. The little sliver of hope I still had disappeared because I knew why he wanted to open the door. He didn't want me to talk to them. After he grabbed the bags, he opened my door and said he would do the talking. They asked where I went because they hadn't seen me around, Nick said I went to visit my mom. They knew my mom was dead because I still went over to visit them after he told me not to. Before they could say anything else he grabbed my wrist and took me inside." You took a deep breath as your hands started to tremble. 

Kayce moved closer to you and slid his arm around your waist. His other hand came back to yours. 

You held onto it tightly and stared at your entwined fingers as memories of that night played through your head. "I've never seen him that angry. He did everything like he would before; yelling, hitting, choking. But, harder, longer. I was lying on the kitchen floor trying to catch my breath after he choked me and he...he grabbed a knife." Kayce inhaled harshly. "He made the cut on my face so if I ran away again it would be easy for him to find me. I could change my hair, wear hats, different clothes but everyone would remember the girl with a scar down her face." You could feel the rage emanating off of your boyfriend. "He made me clean up before he dragged me into the bedroom and...he..."

"He's dead. He's fucking dead." Kayce swore, knowing what happened next. 

"After he said he would kill me if I ran away again, I didn't know what to do. If he found me after two weeks, I thought he would be able to find me anywhere. I did whatever he wanted because I was scared of him. I was miserable. I started thinking about e-ending it...me." Your voice was whisper quiet. Kayce gently pulled you onto his lap and leaned in, kissing your shoulder. You looked over and smiled at the sweet, caring man who was the opposite of your good-for-nothing ex. 

"I was on the porch checking our mailbox one day when our neighbors came out to do the same thing. They saw me and invited me over for a glass of iced tea. I knew Nick wouldn't like it but they insisted so I did. While they were telling me about one of their recent trips my sweater slipped off my shoulder and they saw a bruise on my arm in the shape of a handprint. I told them Nick stopped me from falling down the stairs but I knew they didn't believe me. I tried to leave but they stopped me and begged me to leave him. I told them he wasn't as bad as they thought. By then they knew he was a cop and who his family was. They let me go, if I promised to visit them whenever Nick was at work. They were the only thing that put a real smile on my face. I loved spending time with them. Nine days before I was supposed to marry Nick I was at their house and they handed me an envelope. Inside was five thousand dollars and a fake ID and birth certificate. When James was a lawyer, there was a guy in his firm that had a case involving fake documents, he tracked him down and got him to make me some. They told me they had a bus ticket with my fake name on it that was leaving in forty-five minutes, and a suitcase full of clothes for me. I didn't want to go, I was scared Nick would find out they helped me. After he cut me he said if I ever run away again, he would kill anyone who helped me. But, they wouldn't take no for an answer. They had a wig for me to put on before I left so when he looked at the traffic cameras by the bus station he wouldn't know it was me. When they dropped me off they gave me the phone so he couldn't track my number. Before I got on the bus they gave me a hug and told me I was like the daughter they never had..." you swallowed before looking at him with tear-filled eyes. "If-if you don't want me to spend time with Tate anymore because of Nick, or you-"

"Stop." He cupped your face. "Nothing that that piece of shit did to you changes my mind." His perfect eyes pierced yours. "I love you, Letty."

"You-you don't have to say that because of what I told you."

"Baby, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. Your hair was blowing in the wind as you stood in front of the house with your suitcase. I knew then that you were it for me. You are the kindest, strongest, bravest, most beautiful woman I've ever met. I am the luckiest man in the world because you let me call you mine." His voice was filled with emotion. "I love you, Violet."

"Kayc," tears started to fall from your eyes. 

"I'm not expecting you to say it back. We can move as slow as you want, as you need. I'm not going anywhere." His thumbs brush the tears off your cheeks. "Can I kiss you?"

You leaned in and pressed your lips against his, giving him your answer. Your hands slid over his shoulders and pulled him closer as the kiss intensified. Nick disappeared from your mind and For the first time in you didn't how long, you wanted more. 

When you finally parted you were both out of breath. "Letty?" He could feel this kiss was different.

"I...I want to..."

"But?" He knew you were holding something back. 

"What if we start and I can't?"

"If you want to try and you need to stop then we stop." 

You chewed on your lower lip nervously. 

"Baby, I'm not going to be mad. I told you that I'm not going anywhere. You are the only woman I want to be with. I'll do whatever you need me to and wait however long you need."

You nodded slowly. "Can we try?" Your voice was quiet.

"Yeah, baby." His hand slid across your cheek. "Can I go outside and grab more firewood first? It's starting to cool off in here, you're starting to get cold." His thumb ran across your cheek. 

"Mhm." You stood up and he followed suit. 

"I'll be right back." He gave your forehead a soft kiss before going outside. 

In the meantime, you grabbed the blankets off the couch and made a cozy spot on the floor in front of the wood stove. 

He came back in with an arm full of already chopped logs that were piled up against the side of the cabin. A smile pulled at his lips when he saw the makeshift bed on the floor. 

"I'm pretty sure that's the most uncomfortable couch in the world." You giggled shyly. 

He put a couple of logs on the fire and set the rest on the floor before walking over. One of his hands went to your waist while the other came up and rested along your jaw. "Are you sure you want to do this? If you're not ready, it's okay. I'm perfectly happy just holdin' you."

"I want to." You swallowed. "I want you, Kayce."

"I'm yours, Violet." He leaned in and kissed you. 

After a few seconds, the need you felt for the kiss to develop into something more returned and your fingers started unbuttoning his shirt. His hands left you so you could slide his shirt down his arms. As it fell to the floor, you pulled his T-shirt off. He unzipped his jeans and added them to the pile while you untied the straps of your dress. It pooled around your feet and his eyes took you in. 

"You are perfect."

Red crept across your cheeks while he closed the distance, one hand went to your cheek while the other went back to your waist. You shivered from the sudden cool touch. 

"Sorry."

"It's okay," you giggled. 

"Come here." He sank down onto the blanket and you sat down on the floor next to him. "Better?"

You nodded as you immediately start to warm up from the fire and the blanket that he pulled over the two of you. Your hand came up and slid across his jaw before pulling him in. 

His hands went to your waist and held you close while he kissed you. Your mouth parted, your tongue slid across his as the kiss quickly became heated. He unhooked your bra before slowly lying you down. Your lips finally parted and he hovered above you. "Do you want to keep going?"

"Yes."

"We can stop anytime you want to, just say the word. Okay?"

"Okay."

He sat back so he could take his boxers off and grab a condom from his wallet while you pulled your underwear off. His eyes traveled up your naked body before he crawled back between your legs. You nodded as he looked down at you so he reached between you and positioned himself before slowly entering you. Your eyes automatically closed and you tensed up. 

He immediately pulled out. "Letty, open your eyes. Look at me." You did and the second you saw his warm brown eyes, you relaxed. His hand slid into your hair. "Do you want me to stop? We can and-"

"No, don't stop. Please."

"Stay with me, baby." His eyes pierced yours as he entered you for the second time. "Right here."

You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. "Mmm." A small moan escaped as he filled you. He slowly pulled out and gently thrust into you again, all while keeping your eyes glued to each others. Your ex and all of the terrible things he did vanished from your mind. It was just you and your cowboy. Your hands slid into his wavy hair and pulled him down, your lips met his fiercely. He kissed you back while continuing to move inside you. One of his hands stayed embedded in your hair, the other slid around your lower back and held you close. That small shift had him hitting just the right spot over and over again. 

"Kayce," your fingers dug into the back of his shoulders. 

His hold on you tightened, molding you to his body as he continued thrusting.

"Mmm," you moaned as heat began growing rapidly in your core. Your breathing picked up and within seconds he took you over the edge. "Kayc!"

"Letty." He was right behind you groaning your name. His eyes held yours until you both came down from your highs. When your breathing started to return to normal, he leaned in and gave you a long kiss before lying down next to you, propping himself up on his elbow. "Are you okay?"

You looked up at him and smiled. "I'm okay. More than okay." He chuckled huskily as he tucked your hair behind your ear. "Really though, I am."

"Are you sure, baby?"

"Yes. It was just you and me. Everything else, the memories, they disappeared." Your hand came up and rested on his cheek. "You are an amazing man, Kayce Dutton. You're kind and sweet. You were beyond patient with me and when you found out about my past you didn't run away. You make me feel normal again. You make me feel safe." Your thumb ran across his skin. "I love you."

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. When you parted there were tears in your eyes. "Hey, talk to me."

"I just...I'm happy. After the past couple of years, I never thought I would be again. Then I came here and found you and Tate. Your family and everyone here have been amazing."

He wiped away a tear that slipped from your eye. "This is your home now, Letty. He is never going to hurt you again. I won't let him get anywhere near you."

"Promise?" You asked while memories of the horrible things he did played through your head.

Kayce could tell what you were thinking and pulled you closer. "I promise."

"Thank you."

"I know I've said it before but I would do anything for you. I love you." His lips met yours and you melted in his arms. 

When you parted, you both lay there nestled together under the blanket, listening to the crackle of the fire. All of the cows on the ranch were marked with the Yellowstone brand, a Y, but this was the first time you had seen the same brand on Kayce's chest. Your fingers traced over the raised, scarred letter that covered most of his left pec. "Did it hurt?"

"Yeah." 

"Why did you do it?"

"I didn't, Dad did."

You quickly tilted your head back and looked at him with wide, watery eyes. The tone of his voice, you knew it wasn't because he asked his dad to do it. "Why?"

"Hey, shh." He smiled softly when he saw the tears in your eyes. "Come here." His arms tightened around you and pulled you close. After kissing you, he eased back onto the pillow. "I graduated a couple years before Tate's mom got pregnant. We met at a party and it was just a one-night stand. When she got pregnant, she came to the ranch because she heard about my family, the money. We found out that she got arrested regularly because of drinking. She didn't work and a lot of the money she did get from the tribe she spent on alcohol. She didn't want a kid and came out to say if I didn't either then she was going to get an abortion. But, if I did, she would keep it as long as we paid her. Dad said yes, as long as she didn't drink while she was pregnant. Dad even paid for an apartment for her to live in while she was pregnant because she couch surfed from place to place before. She didn't drink during the first four months but one day when Dad went to check in with her, he saw a couple of empty beer bottles. After that she did off and on until Tate was born. Thankfully, he was in perfect health. She didn't want anything to do with him and signed him over as soon as she could. That was the last we saw of her. She died a couple of months later. Her and the guy she was with were drinking and driving. They hit a tree." He took a deep breath before continuing. "It didn't really sink in that I was going to be a dad until the nurse came out to where Dad and I were waiting and handed him to me. He was so small. The first two weeks after we brought him home were rough. I was scared. I was still a kid, how was I supposed to take care of one? I didn't think I could, I didn't want to try...I panicked and joined the Navy. I could leave for training in a few days. Dad freaked out. He told me I wasn't going and had to stay and take care of my son. We argued, and when he realized I wasn't going to change my mind he did this. He thought that it would make me needing to stay here sink in. It didn't. I was angry at him, scared of my son...I left. That's when Dad hired Mrs. Sanders. While I was gone Jamie and Lee kept in touch; calling, letters. They sent pictures. I finally came to my senses when Tate turned six. I quit the Navy and came home. I-I know Im a horrible dad-"

"What? Kayce, no." You propped yourself up and turned his face towards yours. "You are an amazing dad. Tate loves you."

"I shouldn't have left. I was selfish and stupid and-"

"And, I know that you would take it back if you could."

"In a heartbeat. I would have stayed, I should have stayed."

"But, you've made up for it. You and Tate have an amazing relationship. He looks up to you. You're the foreman of the largest ranch in Montana, he wants to be just like you when he grows up." He nodded slowly. You knew what was going through his head. "What you told me doesn't change how I feel about you. You are a great dad, a hard worker, and the most amazing man I could have ever hoped for. I love you."

"I love you too, Letty." Your lips met for a searing kiss. "I don't know how I got lucky enough to find you."

"Technically, I think I found you."

A playful smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth and he chuckled. "I think you're right."

"I'm right? Wanna say that again?" You laughed when he squeezed your sides. 

"You're right, this time. Don't get used to hearing it though." You giggled before starting to sit up. 

"No." He whined.

"I'll be right back." You reached for his shirt that was lying close by and slipped it on, doing up a few buttons, before getting up and going to the kitchen. When you turned around with what you went to get, Kayce was watching you with a smile on his face. "What?"

"You look good in my shirt."

"Yeah?" You straddled his lap, after setting two bottles of water and the pizza box on the floor close by. 

"Yeah." His hands went to your waist and pulled you close. "Stay here with me tonight? We don't have to do anything. I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms." 

"What if I want to do that again?"

"We can do whatever you wanna do, baby." He smirked and it made you bite your lower lip. That smirk is going to drive me crazy...in a good way.

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

Tag list: @saintnourah

[evereinefaust]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 ࿐ྂ

Pairing: Kurapika Kurta X afab!Reader

Sypnosis: MC never knew that joining a simple game of spin the bottle paired with truth or dare would end up in chaos. Especially since her feelings for a certain blonde were known in the process.

Word Count: 2,358

"Okay! It's my turn!" Killua cheered in determination as he spun the bottle in the middle.

Your eyes watched the end tip of the bottle land on Gon. The taller boy just had a smirk on his face.

"Truth or dare?"

Gon closed his eyes and thought for a second. "Hm... dare!"

"Alright then," the white-haired assassin's smirk grew bigger then pointed at the spiky-haired boy. "I dare you to buy one hundred chocolates from the store!"

"Eh?!"

"Oh boy..." you, Leorio, and Kurapika sighed. No one can actually stop Killua's obsession with sweets, especially chocolates.

"I might also add," Killua said. Gon looked at him for more instruction. "You should buy all one hundred in just thirty minutes."

"What?!" Leorio's eyes widened in shock. "There's no way Gon can do that!"

"You might start now, 'cause the time's ticking," Killua told Gon, completely ignoring the 'old' man.

In a second, Gon was gone. He already left the house, running as fast as he could to arrive at the store. you sighed, stood up then closed the widely open door left by a hurried Gon.

"This will take Gon an hour before he could return," the blonde looked outside the window. "The only store in this place is miles away from here, and being the only store, a lot of people will surely be there."

"You're right. Poor Gon," you seconded then sat back on your spot.

"Let him be, he took a dare anyway," Killua just shrugged. After hearing this statement, you released a deadly aura from your body and then glared at him with bloodlust. Killua, who sensed your bloodlust, started sweating as the two other males moved away from you.

"C-calm down, [Name]. G-Gon will be fine!" Leorio tried to calm you down but to no avail.

"A-ah! It's just a joke! A joke!" Killua moved his hand in front of him in a dismissive manner.

"I'm back!"

Everyone, including you, turned their attention toward the door. There stood Gon, he leaned on the frame, carrying several shopping bags with his sweaty hands. His whole body is covered in sweat while he pants heavily.

"Gon!" you instantly went to his side and then grabbed the bags from him.

"I finally brought... everything..." the black-haired male said between pants.

Killua saw all the brown sweets and smelled the fragrant aroma of it, after a moment, his mouth curved into his signature cat smile. He snatched a piece of chocolate bar from the bag then proceeds to remove the wrapper the finally eats it.

"Wow, you took only several minutes to buy all of that and return home, " Leorio complimented.

"Y-yeah, I got help from the saleslady..." the boy replied.

"I'm glad that you're back in one piece," you told him as you wiped his sweat with a white towel. Kurapika took all the bags from you and then gave them to the assassin.

"Thanks, [Name]," Gon smiled at you.

"No problem," you returned the smile back. "Come on, let's resume our game."

"Yeah!"

The game was resumed and Gon spun the bottle then it landed on you. When you watched the end tip land on you, your heart beats fast due to nervousness and fear. Gon might be an innocent boy, but because he is with Killua all the time, no one can be sure if his mind is corrupted by the mischievous ex-assassin.

"Truth or dare?" Gon asked you.

"Dare!" you instantly answered without any second thought. Killua knows that you have feelings for the blonde, and if you said 'truth', Gon might ask you who you have special feelings with. Though, the same thing goes with 'dare', Gon might dare you to tell the truth or do some flirtatious actions towards the Kurta. Well, it's now or never.

"Hm........" Gon placed his finger on his chin and looked at the ceiling, thinking carefully about anything that he might want you to do.

"Gon, let me help," there he goes now.

"Killua, stop."

You hissed under your breath and send another wave of deadly aura towards him. He noticed your bloodlust and then moved away from Gon afterward.

"[N-Name] can be a dangerous anime sometimes," Leorio sweat-dropped as he watched your actions. Kurapika just sighed and then smiled a bit.

"Aha!" Gon snapped his fingers and then grinned at you. "I dare you to send several punches to Killua!"

"Yes!"

"What?!" Killua's eyes widened in shock at his best friend's statement. You love to see this reaction of his, a sign of revenge for Gon.

"Oh well, this might be worth the watch," the oldest male just chuckled.

"It's payback time," you punched the palm of your hand as you stood up from your spot.

"A-ahhh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I am really sorry! I won't do it again next time!" Killua pleaded with fear decorating his face, he backed away as sweat appeared on his whole face already. "Please stop!"

You didn't answer any of his pleads, you actually like Gon's dare to you. Now you can release all of your anger towards him in one blow.

"Gah! Old hag!"

Snap. That last sentence ticked the hell out of you. Your eyes turned demonic as your aura increased and was focused on your right fist.

"You'll be dead, Zoldyck," was the last thing Killua heard because he was sent flying inside the house. He was knocked unconscious and landed in the next room, which is the kitchen. A big lump appeared on his chin when you uppercut him.

"There, that will make him shut for a while," you said then brushed your hands.

"You should have pulled back a bit, [Name]. He won't wake up until tomorrow," Kurapika told you as he head inside the kitchen to fetch an unconscious Killua.

"Sorry, I just got pissed off by his remark," you apologized while scratching your head sheepishly, blushing red.

Kurapika picked up the assassin and placed him on his back, then he return back to the living room and rest Killua on the couch.

"He looked peaceful when he sleeps, I'm glad you shut him up and I also enjoyed the show," Leorio snickered.

Kurapika sat back next to you and the game resumed. You spun the bottle and it landed on Leorio. He gulped.

"Okay, since I used most of my aura for that attack, I am now hungry. Truth or dare?"

"I don't know what you are saying but I pick dare!"

"Just the answer that I need," you smirked. "I dare you to make me a snack."

"That's too easy," he stood up from his seat and was about to head inside the kitchen.

"I want a homemade brioche."

Leorio stopped right after hearing that, his head turned back to you and gave a 'come on' face. You just motioned him to get going, he sighed and then stomped his way towards the kitchen.

"If you only pulled back, maybe you wouldn't waste most of your aura and wouldn't get hungry," the blonde sighed.

"Fine, you win, Kurapika," you sighed then rests your head on his shoulders. Kurapik didn't flinch or anything because he treats you like a younger sister - a very close relationship. Though your feelings for him are obvious enough, you still enjoyed having him as a close friend.

"Leorio will be out for a moment, you spin, Kurapika," Gon told him. Kurapika nodded then spun the bottle as he is told.

The game continues without Leorio and Killua. Gon did several dares coming from you, and one of them is covering Killua's face with chocolate. Of course, you did some dare and truth from them. The true question came from the Kurta, and he asked if you like him. Of course, the feelings are obvious but he thought that your closeness is just the effect of having you as his close friend and 'sister'. 

"Gon, promise me not to tell anyone, okay?" You whispered into Gon's ear.

"Sure thing," he nodded.

You took a deep breath as your heart beats fast against your chest. You feel really nervous right now, Gon will now know your secret and when it spreads, you might want to kill yourself for it. Killua obviously know, Gon is going to know as well as the Kurta, and worst of all, Leorio might tease the life out of you. You hated the 'old man', he's a perv, a good-for-nothing, and just a normal man that doesn't even have powers.

"To answer your question, Kurapika..." you said as you locked eyes with him. When you did, you gulped and wanted to look away.

"... y-yes, I do like you. Not just like, a like-like."

Kurapika's face flushed red after he heard your answer, you looked away instantly after answering him and you as well started to heat up. Gon, on the other hand, smiled with eyes closed when he heard your confession.

"I-I..... feel the same way," Kurapika confessed right away as he looked down.

When you heard that, you slowly look up to meet his eyes once again. He also looked up and finally, his eyes locked with yours. The two of you stared deep into each other's eyes, each showed happiness, relaxation, love, triumph, and yearning. The two of you yearn for each other right now, though, you didn't know what to do about it.

"I see romance coming right up."

Both snapped back to reality when you heard a familiar voice say. You blinked a few times before you noticed Killua and Leorio on both of your sides. The white-haired assassin and the black-haired pervert smirked and you started to blush mad. Poor Gon whose mouth was covered by Killua's hand, made him quiet and unable to talk.

"K-K-K-Killua!"

You panicked and he just had that cat face, stick covering Gon's mouth.

"I knew you would confess anytime soon."

"Shut up!"

"Kurapika's growing up so fast," Leorio patted the blonde's shoulder while snickering. The said Kurta flinched at the sudden contact and blushed harder.

"I guess it's my turn now, right?" Leorio gave you his burnt homemade brioche and sat back next to Kurapika. You looked at the food and then shrugged. "You gave me a hard time with the dare, now I need revenge."

You gulped at that statement as he spun the bottle, you prayed that it won't land on you and shut your eyes close, waiting for the bottle to stop. Once it did, you slowly open your eyes and saw where the bottle landed. Your eyes widened in shock, surely it didn't land on you, but it landed on the Kurta instead. Killua had his smirk face on as he and Leorio whispered to other. You just hoped that the Kurta won't do anything stupid. Finally, they both looked at you. You gulped once again.

"Truth or dare?"

"If you pick truth, you should tell us why you love [Name], your plans with her in the future, and..." Leorio stated. Kurapika started sweating because of it. "... if how many times you would-"

"Stop!" you shouted and that shut him. Gon, who is released a moment earlier and was hearing all of this, looked between you, Killua, Kurapika, and Leorio in confusion. You and Kurapika on the hand blushed deeper and heats up even more.

"And if I pick dare?"

"It's a secret~" Killua's mouth turned again into his signature smile and winked at Kurapika after.

You gulped then looked at Kurapika for his decision.

"I pick dare."

Once again, you were shocked. Shocked by the Kurta's answer, but you have no choice. It's his decision, after all.

"Alright then," the silverette took a box of sweets from his bag of chocolates. When you saw the name, your blood started to escape from your body and became very white. "I have a box of 'Pocky', I hope you know what this means, right?"

"I dare you to play Pocky with [Name]," Leorio ordered the blonde and pointed a finger at you.

Kurapika took the box from Killua and turned to face you. He took one stick from it and placed the end in his mouth. You were hesitant to do this but somehow you have this feeling that wanting to play the game and experience having a kiss with the person you most love. You took hold of the stick and bit the other end.

"Okay, start chewing," Killua ordered and Kurapika made the first move.

A few minutes had passed and the pocky is slowly consumed, the stick is getting shorter every second by now. The once confused Gon, was now knocked unconscious by Killua rather than making him witness a kiss. He is innocent, after all, and everyone doesn't want to ruin his innocence and purity. Once your noses touched, you stopped chewing and looked into Kurapika's eyes. The two of you are blushing right now, while Killua and Leorio were watching the scene before them.

"Come on, do it..." Killua urged the two of you.

After a while, Kurapika caught you off guard by catching your lips into his. You were shocked at first, but when you tasted his lips, you started to yearn more. You closed your eyes and go along with his tongue. The kiss was so romantic and passionate and you enjoyed it. After a while, the two of you broke and locked eyes with each other.

"That is so romantic~" Killua's voice ruined the very moment.

A tick mark appeared on your forehead as your aura started to arise again. The two were sweating and started to back away.

"Stop ruining the sweet moment!"

With that said, you started chasing them all over the house while Kurapika had a smile on his face and assisted Gon in sleeping on the couch. And the two of you never regret the choice the Kurta had made, a sweet outcome has happened.

[so-writing]

The Devil You Know - Tyson Jost (1)

note: I've been gone for a minute because no inspiration to write but it came and here we are! I'm reworking my master because it's incredibly outdated and needs some major work. I haven't linked anything to it in a while and I won't be linking this.

plot: Tyson gets traded and, as much as you love him, you can't let yourself follow him. (Song: Only Be Mine - Arrows in Action)

--

Tomorrow's a nightmare, I'm dreamin' today And my head is haunted, the past just can't stay The devil you know, yeah he comes and he goes I'm selfish and vapid, I hide in my prose He’s not there when you get the phone call. He’s not even the one that calls you.

Hockey websites and Twitter and Instagram accounts light up with the news and you first find out about his trade when one of your friends screenshots a post on Reddit.

“Nico Sturm for Tyson Jost [@nhlupdate]” with a Reddit “confirmed” flair.

Kacey tries her best to keep herself collected when she asks how you’re doing, if you’ve talked to Tyson yet, if you’re going to be okay. You can feel the tension through the phone but you’re too preoccupied by the fact that Tyson has been traded to another team several states away and he hasn’t even bothered to call you yet.

“I’m fine,” you lie, “we’ll get through this,” you lie again. You’re pretty sure lies are going to become a common thing for the next little bit of time.

Kacey doesn’t sound convinced but she lets it go and you say your goodbyes before ending the call. For the first time, in a long time, probably since you moved in, you take a legitimately serious look at the walls around you.

The apartment was cold and unwelcoming when Tyson rented it and asked you to move in with him. The dark marble counters and cold black kitchen appliances paired nicely with the open industrial design and exposed brick throughout the space. It was nice, but it needed a bit of a comfy touch and you were quick it give it one.

You introduced warm art and lighting fixtures and furniture that removed some of the iciness of the empty space and built yourself a little home. It wouldn’t be your home anymore though, because Tyson would be moving away and there was absolutely no way you could afford the place on your own.

“Fuck,” you whispered into the silent apartment, “Tys?”

He still hadn’t called. He wouldn’t call for another two hours, and when he did, it broke your heart even more than you thought it already was.

*

“Hey baby,” he was almost whispering, “you okay?”

“No,” your lower lip began to tremble, “why didn’t you call earlier?”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to. I told Kacey to call for me, they threw me on a plane right away and things just went off from there.”

A soft silence between the two of you, you trying your best not to cry, before Tyson sighed and asked, “what are you thinking right now?”

That was it, the floodgates opened and you left nothing untouched. What was going to happen to the two of you? Were you going to stay together and be long distance? Did he even want that? Was he going to kick you out of his place? How was this going to work? Was it over?

“No,” his voice cracked, “no of course it’s not over.”

“It feels pretty fucking final, Tys.”

“I’ve been traded, it happens to lots of guys.”

“Does it happen to guys who aren’t married and established and have girlfriends that can’t afford to keep their old place and attend their games?”

He didn’t respond immediately, probably trying to compose what he thought was the right thing to say.

“I don’t know, but I know that I love you and that I can take care of you. Fuck, come out here, please? I’ll find a new place for us to live here in Minneapolis. It’ll be a fresh start for the both of us.”

It wasn’t something that had even crossed your mind. The abruptness of his trade that seemingly came out of nowhere had you thinking about plenty of possibilities but uprooting your entire life wasn’t one of them.

Born in Golden, a small suburb about twenty miles outside of Denver, you grew up living and breathing Colorado air. You’d always loved your home state and meeting Tyson his rookie year with the Avalanche was the cherry on top of what you thought was the start of your life taking shape.

“Baby? You still there?”

You were, but you didn’t respond so he kept talking about a future in Minnesota and how this would be good for him, good for the both of you. A fresh start.

That was the problem, though, because you didn’t want one. Naively, you always thought Tyson would stay in Colorado playing for the Avalanche and the two of you would spend your lives together in Denver. Marriage, babies and everything in between would happen and it would be there in Colorado. It was home.

“Tyson,” you stopped him, “i’m sorry, I’ve got to hang up. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

A slightly bewildered acceptance came from his end and you ended the call while he was still speaking.

*

Pounding on the door of your childhood home at almost midnight was probably not a good look but you’d been pacing your apartment thinking about what to do and, while you think you had decided, you needed to hear your parents opinion to be sure.

“Honey, what the hell?”

Your mom, dressed in silky pajamas and looking sleepy as hell, opened the door and pulled you inside.

“What’s wrong?”

“Tyson got traded.”

“To Minnesota, I know. Your father saw it on TV.”

“He asked me to come with him.”

She pursed her lips before opening her mouth, like she was about to say something, before shutting it again.

“Should I go with him?”

“Put on some water for tea. I’m going to wake your dad.”

*

Puffy eyes and red skin and chapped lips weren’t cute. Tyson’s mom was going to see the state of you and probably wonder why her son was with someone so unhinged. You spent the remainder of the night talking (and crying, mostly crying) to your parents while you weighed your decision and what it would mean if you left home to live with Tyson.

He sent you a text early letting you know that his mom was flying in to pack some of his stuff up so he had something to wear while he lived in a hotel close to his new home arena.

You hadn’t seen her in almost a year and this meeting was the opposite of ideal but when she opened the door, you launched yourself into her arms and the waterworks started again.

“This isn’t how I wanted us to see each other again.”

No response from you, because you were too choked up to say anything. It took a few minutes for you to let her go and a few more minutes of talking to accept that she was taking some of Tyson’s things out of the apartment forever.

He’d be back there less than five times and they’d be slowly lurking toward to the end. The end of his time in that building. The end of his time with the Avalanche. The end of his time in Colorado and the end of his time with you.

“I’ll see you soon?”

It wasn’t a question you could answer, because you hadn’t decided what you were going to do yet, but you nodded fiercely and hugged her goodbye. The door closed behind Tyson’s mother and you broke down again.

Was it possible to have no tears left to cry? You were probably dangerously close to finding out.

Over the next few days, Tyson called when he could and sent as many messages and possible to reassure you that he loved you and that he wanted you with him. It felt good to know that even though he was with a new team, he was still with you.

*

It wasn’t until the first game that the Avalanche played against the Wild, in Minnesota no less, and you couldn’t get out of work to fly out, that you realized you couldn’t do it.

You watched the game in your apartment, because Tyson didn’t live there anymore, and cried as you realized what you were going to do. Based on their social media, Tyson was absolutely thriving in Minnesota and you would only be a dark cloud on his new green grass, not raining down and watering it, just sadly lingering and killing any new growth.

He picked up right away when you called him and the happiness in his voice sent your stomach into your throat.

“Baby! Oh my god! I don’t want to be happy about this but, fuck, I am so happy!”

The Wild won over the Avalanche, thanks to EJ’s penalty, and Tyson sounded like he was on cloud nine.

“I’m glad, Tys, you deserved the win.”

“Hey,” the sound of people in the background faded away, “you okay?”

This was it. As much as you didn’t want, because you loved Tyson Jost more than you could even say, you couldn’t go with him. Minnesota was his fresh start, not yours.

“Honestly, no. Tyson,” you paused but he was quick to interrupt what you were about to say.

“Don’t do this. Please don’t do this? Not tonight?”

His happy tone dropped into a wavering one and you were tearing up at the sound of it. How fucking heartless was it to do this the first night he played and won against his old team? You hadn’t even thought of it.

“I can’t come to Minnesota, Tyson.”

“Why?”

It was a great question, one you didn’t really have a real answer to. You knew in your gut that leaving home to live with Tyson wasn’t the right choice but you couldn’t actually pinpoint a reason why. Sure, your family and your friends and your job were in Denver, but FaceTime was a thing and you could always get new employment.

Tyson had been the love of your life since shortly after you met him but less time around him made things clearer for you personally. You loved him, absolutely, but it obviously wasn’t enough to move mountains, or your life, for the sake of the relationship. You loved him though, still, you always would, he needed to know that.

“Nevermind,” he didn’t let you speak, “Your silence is enough.”

The call went dead and you sucked in a deep breath. That was not the way you wanted to end your relationship with Tyson Jost.

-

what do you think so far?

[twiceasfrustrating]

I'm sorry if I already requested this of you I honestly have the memory of a walnut. But can I request headcannons of the boys + dia who find out MC has an emotionally abusive husband? Like fluff with some murder maybe?

thank you

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)

Additional Tags: abusive relationship mentioned, some are a bit murdery, I don't know how to write fluff for such a situation but I tried

A/N: If you are in an abusive situation in the USA and need to speak to someone, please call 1-800-799-7233. If you cannot call, you can also text “START” to 88788. If it is safe for you, you can also go to the website directly. Abuse takes many forms, but it is always about control.

Feel free to add the numbers/contact for other countries if you have them.

Lucifer

He got upset at MC once and they flinched when he yelled and they started apologizing like there was no tomorrow. That was how he found out something was wrong. They wouldn’t say anything, but he could tell that something was deeply wrong. Perhaps he had never noticed before the formation of their pact how MC shuddered around him whenever he got upset, but now he did.

He is very careful not to yell again and when he does he is quick to lower his voice the second MC shows distress, reassuring them that he is not angry at them and would not harm them. It sounds almost hollow after how he acted when they originally met, but he means it.

There was one time MC dropped a dish on the floor while cooking and it broke, spilling hot food everywhere. They started picking up the pieces in a hurry, not even paying attention to how the hot shards burned and cut up their hands.

Lucifer was quick to pick them up off the ground and tend to the fresh injuries, all while they kept apologizing and saying that they would clean it up as soon as they could and saying they would make something else. Lucifer forbade them from doing either and cleaned the mess himself. He did that a lot. Took care of their ‘mistakes’ and cared for them. They would almost believe he wasn't the same terrifying man they had first met.

It takes a long time for MC to get used to their new relationship with Lucifer and once they do they are far more comfortable and less skittish.

He is not pressuring the story out of them. He can wait, as difficult as it is, for them to open up. However, he is no fool. He knows who is to blame, and that man should be very afraid should Lucifer and he ever meet.

Mammon

MC always spoke so well of their husband when they first met the brothers. Mammon was actually jealous and wished MC would talk about him that way. They would always say how kind their husband was and how he loved them and how he wanted the best for them. It sounded like some kind of cheesy romance novel.

Things started to get weird though when he and MC started to get even closer. He would invite them out, only to hear “I don’t think my husband would like that” or “I shouldn’t be alone with you”. It was weird the first time, but it quickly became a pattern. A very worrying pattern. Mammon knew abuse when he saw it. He was the family butt monkey and a witch punching bag, after all.

The difference is that he’s a fallen angel that is used to such treatment and, as a demon, the things done to him do very little in the long run. Humans are far more fragile though; their minds, bodies, and hearts. And then Mammon started to hate MC’s husband with a passion that could not be matched.

He cared less about making that bastard pay and more about taking care of MC. Such treatment can ruin a person, especially good people like MC. He would do anything to show them that they deserved better than that man, whatever that eventually meant.

Leviathan

He and MC have a little too much in common for his taste. It is actually almost disgusting how little self-worth they seem to have, but he can also see how that was trained into them.

They play down their worth a lot: “It’s nothing”, “It could be better”, “I failed again”, etc. They never say anything positive about themself. They are really good at picking out their flaws, but almost incapable of pointing out their merits.

It goes against everything Levi believes in, but he has to start praising them since they won’t praise themself. He likes hanging out with them, the stuff they make is nice, they are a really quick learner. It feels weird to praise someone, but it’s nice to see MC start to feel a little better about all the things they do.

Although, he also has the mild thought of showing MC’s husband that there are more terrifying things in the world than the horrors a human is capable of. After all, Levi has seen the monsters that dwell in the deep; he is one of those monsters and there is a reason humans fear the darkest depths.

Satan

There are some wonderful upsides to being the avatar of wrath. Normally, Satan wouldn't be so crass as to give into them, but sometimes humanity is just so vile that he can't help himself.

One of those upsides is a mind filled to the brim with the instinctual desire to rip and tear anything he can get his hands on to pieces. It's an instinct he fights off constantly with his centuries of training and self-discovery, but just this once he doesn't mind becoming the beast he was born as.

MC's husband squeals like a stuck pig throughout the entire night, only the winds, spiders, and Satan being able to hear and appreciate the sound. And appreciate it he does, until the screaming stops and his hands are drenched with blood.

He really needs to get himself cleaned off before he sees MC again, otherwise they will be terrified. He needs to look his best when they come running to him worried about their missing husband. It’s sad how much they worry about him despite everything.

Asmodeus

MC was always so calm and docile when he wanted to spend time with them. He didn’t really get it at first but it was easier to dress them up and take them out, so he didn’t question it. At least, not until someone (read: Solomon) not so subtly pointed out that it is unusual for someone to be so passive, almost to the point of being doll-like.

Asmo didn’t believe it at first. How could anyone treat someone as sweet as MC so cruelly, especially someone that is supposed to love them? But from that day onward, his eyes were opened up and he started to notice things.

The way they didn’t put forth their own opinions and let him take the lead on everything, how they stuck close to him when they both went out, the subtle way their fingers reached out then drew back when they liked something.

“Do you like it?” He would ask and their response was “do you?”

It was so difficult to get them to start putting their own wants and desires above what they thought he’d like. When they showed interest in something, he would fawn all over it. If they liked something, he liked it too. He would buy them things they even glanced casually at, told them they were worthwhile and lovely, anything that other man would never say to them.

He tore them down so completely, but Asmo would work tirelessly to build them back up.

Beelzebub

He is the softest man in the world, and sometimes MC just lets things slip out. He’s very easy to open up to and they don’t think about what they say. He was the first person that they opened up to about what was happening to them.

Suffice it to say, Beel was shocked when they mentioned how terrified they were for the exchange program to end. Despite everything that they had been through over the past year, they didn’t want to go back.

Beel had only felt so powerless one other time in his life. He couldn’t go with them to protect them and they couldn’t stay in the Devildom forever to stay safe. It was painfully cruel just how much he couldn’t help them.

All he could do was hold them and listen to them get everything off of their chest, dreading the day that the exchange program would end.

MC has to hurry up and learn how to summon him, because he wants to keep them safe from that awful situation. He would never allow another person it the world to hurt them again.

Belphegor

Belphie likes exactly one human in the three realms and every other one is none of his concern. Or, they wouldn’t be his concern if it weren’t for the fact that the one human he cared about was the victim of this particular instance.

He’s not like some of his other brothers. He doesn’t do comfort and he isn’t the best at torture, prefering to get everything over with quickly so he doesn’t have to expend all the extra energy. But, for such a special occasion, he is more than willing to put in the effort.

Humans really do create their own worst fears. Their minds run a mile a minute and they have the strangest way of finding how their own terrors can overpower what little defenses they have.

He may not be able to touch MC’s husband, but he can certainly return every slight against his favorite human. Long, sleepless nights wracked with unending horrors that only that man can truly appreciate.

All the while, he will gladly hold MC when their own nightmares overtake them, trying to put their mind at ease for just this moment. How he wished that his powers could control the waking world as well as their dreams...

Diavolo

“Don’t go back.” It was the first time Diavolo had brought up the idea. It was one he had been considering for a long time, knowing that it was extreme given that MC was a human and had to live in the human realm. However, he couldn’t live with himself knowing the kind of life MC would return to once they left.

The shouting, the insults, discarding everything MC liked because their husband doesn’t care for it… Diavolo would never feel right knowing he sent someone dear to him back there.

He had the means to help them get literally anywhere but back to that man. Diavolo could help set them free from that life, even if they didn’t want to stay in the Devildom. He knew MC would have the support of everyone they had met.

All they had to do was say yes and he would move the Devildom itself to get them out of there.

[realityescapee01]

Can't Ignore This

Steo | Stiles x Theo

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"... I'm a fan of ignoring a problem until eventually it goes away."

But this certain problem of Stiles doesn't seem to go away no matter how hard he ignores it.

And this problem of his is named Theo.

Theo fucking gorgeous Raeken. Who now sits beside him in his FBI internship.

"How the hell did you get in here, Theo???" Stiles was trying real hard not to completely go bonkers in class.

"Internship, Stiles." Theo showed him his ID.

"W-What?!? No way, that's fake. Where'd you even get that? You're lying to me. Tell me what evil plan you're up to." Stiles bombarded him with questions.

"It's legit, Stiles. Braeden got it for me. I never lie to you. I'm here for you. To win you over. Make you mine." And Theo answered all the questions. Never forgetting anything.

Stiles has his mouth open and immediately dialled Braeden.

"Hey, Stiles."

"Braeden, hey! How are you? Real quick, why is Theo here with me? In my fuckin FBI internship?!? with a legit ID?!?"

"Well..." Braeden explained in between gunshots in the background. Turned out she was recruited by the FBI before but she likes to work independent. She has a slot reserved for her there. Theo made it the payment for the last big bounty he helped her with. "He's really into you, Stiles. So, if that's all, I'm kinda busy here." Some big explosion was heard from the distance in the phone call. "I gotta go, kid!"

Theo tilted his head a little and smirked at Stiles as the call ended. Stiles and Theo just stared at each other, no one giving out until the instructor walked in.

Stiles sat there, looking at the presentation infront but his mind is racing miles per minute. He thought he had left his Theo problem back in Beacon Hills. The chimera was never subtle about declaring his desire for him from the start. Openly courting him. Asking him out. Flat out flirting with him.

He took a glance at Theo and saw his other classmates, boys and girls, checking Theo out. 'Oh great! Just great!' Stiles thought and cursed, asking are they back in highschool or something. Even the instructor seemed overly fond of Theo. Though, Stiles admits, the answer Theo gave to the -what would your plan be in this situation- question was really good and feasible.

"Are you gonna follow me everywhere?" Stiles said as he sat on the table with his lunch tray.

"Yes." Theo sat with him with his own lunch tray.

Stiles just heaved and decided to ignore Theo. Telling himself he's alone on the table, eating lunch, peacefully. "By the way, your dad asked me to give you this." Theo slid over a notebook.

"Wait, my dad?!? Why is my dad even talking to you?!?" Stiles felt like calling his dad up right now.

"I help him and Parrish sometimes. Supernatural stuffs."

"You?!? Why not Liam? The Puppy Pack? What did you do to Liam and the Puppy Pack??? Are they dead? Ohmygod!"

Theo just chuckled "No! They're not dead. Your dad said he doesn't wanna ask Liam because of school."

Stiles took the notebook and saw that it was his first notes way back when Scott got bit. His first researches are in there. He remembered he did ask his dad to send it over. But not to send it over with Theo.

"You're welcome." Theo jabbed. Stiles just shrugged as he shoved the notebook in his bag. Theo kept following Stiles around. They have the same classes after all. Sits beside Stiles in all of them. Even making the other student transfer seats so he could sit beside Stiles.

"Oh. Agh!" Stiles groaned, giving out an irritated chemo signal. This guy, this other guy, has been pestering him. Always being touchy with him. Flirty, even. And that guy stood beside him right now.

Theo sensed his irritation towards the guy and saw the guy leaned forward to Stiles a little too close. Theo's wolf and coyote were pissed. "Hey, there." Theo peeked from Stiles left side.

"Oh, hey! You must be the new guy."

"Yeah." Theo reached for Stiles's knee. "I'm the new guy."

"Oh... uhm, you two-are you-oh! Okay. Got it." The other guy stopped, thinking that's why Stiles never really leaned into his advances.

'Well, that's one good Theo use.' Stiles thought as he felt relieved. He never liked that guy, ever. 'Now, back to the other problem guy.' Stiles looked back at Theo, then at his hand on his knee, then back at Theo. But the chimera never took his hand off. Stiles bounced his leg to get Theo's hand off. Still, Theo never took it off his knee even if the instructor walked in.

The classroom was setup differently here. The tables were long like in highschool lab class. The table caters to 2 students. So Stiles and Theo have the table to themselves. And they were in the back row. The class went on with Theo's hand on Stiles's knee. Stiles tried holding Theo's hand to take it off there but Theo would just place it back. Slowly gliding it upwards to his thigh.

'Oh-Okay, what the fuc-!!!' Theo's touch was dangerously high up his inner thighs now. "Theo. Stop." Stiles whispered to himself, knowing Theo would hear it. But Theo never stopped. He kept going higher, the side of his hand and pinky brushing against Stiles's crotch now. Stiles caught Theo's wrist and pushed the hand away from his crotch. "Theo, please. I'm serious about this internship. The last thing I want is to get kicked out because of getting a handjob from you during class."

Theo looked at him for a while, Stiles was blushing. Theo finally let go. Letting him focus on class. Smiling on the fact that Stiles even thought of a handjob from him. However little chance there is, the fact remains that Stiles thinks of doing things like that with him.

Theo never did something like that during classes from then on. He knows the internship means a lot to Stiles. And Stiles was grateful for that.

The weeks went on with both of them serious about the classes. Theo was enjoying it and decided to get serious. He's liking the job he'd be having and it would allow him to get close to Stiles too. Win-win situation. Now, if only he could get Stiles, claim him, and mate him. He took the classes seriously and also kept at courting Stiles.

They got invited to a party one Friday night. They did quite well on that group case project so they decided to go and celebrate. By now, Stiles is pretty close and comfortable with Theo. With the chimera always around him, all the time, every day. Hanging out and studying. Even eating out together sometimes. Stiles trying to deny it as dates even though they actually are dates.

Theo had taken him to multiple dates by now. Study dates, cafe dates, dinner dates, movie dates, beach dates -yup, beach.

Then Stiles remembered he was weird back then because he got really irritated and angry when there was one guy who kept hitting on Theo when he was at the bar getting their drinks.

Nope, Stiles wasn't jealous or possessive. He just doesn't want other dudes hitting on Theo. Other dudes touching Theo. Other dudes looking at Theo. And he doesn't want Theo looking at other dudes. Okay, that is pretty much what possessive and jealous are.

Now, they were in this club, with music and booze. So many people, so many bodies, dancing, gyrating against each other. Making Stiles heady and horny. Besides, he couldn't really remember when was his last lay. He was so caught up in the internship that he just gives it to himself sometimes. Going out for a one night stand seemed too much work.

Then he caught sight of Theo on the dance floor, dancing with some girl and some guy. The chimera was grinding with those two but his eyes were locked to his. Stiles looked away and gulped his drink down. 'Shit! Can he sense I'm horny from here?' Stiles glanced back at Theo again, who was still gazing at him with a dark glint in his eyes and a not so subtle licking of his lips. 'Yup! He could sense it. Fucking werewolves!'

Fucking werewolves -the phrase was equal to a cuss word at that time, but slowly became a verb as Stiles pushed and pulled and clawed and gripped at Theo who was latched on his neck, fumbling in the hallway of his apartment.

"Hn! Aren't you gonna open your door, Stiles?" Theo asked in between kisses and sucks on Stiles's neck. He has Stiles between him and the door.

"You open it." Stiles said in between panting, he has his hand tangled in Theo's hair. His other hand gripped on Theo's shirt. His head tipped to the side as he enjoys every kiss and suck Theo was doing on his neck. He whispered his passcode to Theo, who pressed it and opened the door to his apartment unit.

That night, Stiles, had a self discovery. That he likes being shoved back against the wall, picked up, and fucked against it. That he also likes the butterfly position and the cowboy too. That he makes very lewd noises which he didn't really realized he could make. That Theo can pull out 3 orgasms from him. That he likes looking at Theo while getting wrecked by him. That he likes how Theo sounds like while he fucks, and when he cums. That he gets more turned on when Theo dirty talks. And that he kinda likes the pet name: baby. Only and only if it was Theo saying it.

Stiles always dreamed of having a unique pet name with his future girl or boyfriend. He wanted something different from the others, so baby really wasn't the first choice. But when it was Theo saying it, it sounded so good, so right, so sexy and hot. "Stiles, baby." Theo would say after "Oh you feels so good." and just right before Theo cums and knots in him. He found himself saying it back to his "Theo, babe, baby." quite a lot of times then.

'Well, that was... awesome.' Stiles stared at Theo's face asleep beside him. 'I guess this makes us official then. The sex and the pet name.' Then Stiles imagined the future with Theo.

He imagined, he'd be doing the guy in the chair, in command, barking orders, hatching plans. And Theo would be on the field doing the 007 thing. Then he snickered a little bit, making Theo wake up.

"Stiles, what's the matter."

"Nothing, just thinking of the future. With you."

"Aww, baby." Theo captured him into a kiss.

-+-+-+ ( complete ) +-+-+-

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[zi-i-think]

Practicing

Pairing: Jade West x fem!reader

Rating: SFW

Word Count: 1800+

Warnings: mention of drugs

Request: no

AN: I know I’m still not done with requests, but I just really wanted to get in a Jade West oneshot. I don’t think Jade is out of character all that much, but I’d love feed back.

          Things sucked. Like. They royally sucked.

         When Beck and Jade broke up for the second time, it felt like a dark, ominous was looming over the group of talented teens. No one needed to be a genius to realize that both Jade and Beck with miserable. Not just because they were no longer together, but the breakup was emotionally draining.

         And despite it all, y/n couldn’t help but feel a little bit hopeful. She and Jade had been friends since middle school when Jade pushed a boy off his seat because he was bullying Y/n. They were pretty different. Actually very different personality-wise. Y/n was what Jade described as a hippie fairy. Which contrasted Jade’s vampire personality completely. 

         But there were just enough similarities to keep them together. Their hatred for the patriarchy. Interests in a feel-good green herb. They both started practicing Wicca together. And they were killer on the mic.

         It was a fine balance. 

         And over the years, Y/n couldn’t help but fall for the girl. Snarling personality and all. 

         She still recalls when Jade and Beck started dated. How at first she just thought she was annoyed at how Jade didn’t spend as much time with her but later realized that she was indeed feeling jealous.

         She knew it was terrible to be glad they’re no longer together, but she couldn’t help it.

         The first thing she saw when she approached her locker was the dark clothed girl waiting for her; standing cooly against the wall of lockers.

         “Morning.” Y/n greeted her with a smile. Jade hummed her greeting in response, waiting for her friend to get her things from the locker. “How you doing?” Jade sent her a glare, knowing that Y/n what trying to get her to talk about the breakup.Y/n mumbled a “nevermind” and closed the locker.

         “Do you have plans later?” Jade grumbled as the two started to walk to Sicowitz’s class.

         “Uh, yeah. I’m finishing up my script for my play.”

         “The one about the girl who turns into a dragon and then the prince who’s supposed to save her kills her on accident.”

         “That’s the one,” Y/n finger-gunner. “I’m trying to figure out how to make the finally really pull at the heartstrings.”

         “Make it gruesome,”

         “I’ll make a note of it.” 

         The class was already about to start by the time they entered and most people were engaged in their own conversations. Y/n saw Jade and Beck make eye contact. The same longing look on their faces. But stubbornness kept either of them from saying anything.

         “Hey, uh do you want to come over? Help me with the play?” Y/n asked, getting Jade’s attention again.

         “Sure. It’s not like I have any plans.” Jade shrugged before taking a seat upfront.

         Y/n smiled and took the seat next to her friend. A nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach grew as she already started to expect her friend’s arrival.

         “Good day, class!” The eccentric teacher barged into the room. “Your a pack or wolves engaged in a dance party!” He announced, prompting the teans to get up from their seats and act out the prompt.

         Knock Knock Knock

         The front door of Y/n’s house sounded. With a furrowed brow and her hair still wet, the girl opened the door revealing Jade with two coffees

         “You’re early,” Y/n stated the obvious.

         “Only cause I got bored. Now you want your coffee or not?” The dark haired girl outstretched her arm to hand her the tall cup.

         Y/n smiled appreciativly, taking the cup and stepping to the side.

         “Alright. So what does your play need?” Jade asked, already getting down to business. She walked straight to the living room and plopped herself on the blanketed couch.

         “Well, uh. It's mainly the last scene. Where the dragon turns back into a maiden and the prince realizes what he's done.” Y/n described, sitting next to Jade and grabbing the laptop from the coffee table.

         “Ah, so it’s angsty.” Jade smiles and leaned closer to Y/n to get a look at the document with the script.

         “Yeah.” Y/n’s voice cracked as she tried to compose herself over her friends close proximity. “So, I was thinking that once he realizes his mistake, he holds her close. I want him to have a monologue. Describing how he'd never get the chance to talk to her, see her, you know typical human relationship things.”

         “Alright so what's the problem?” Jade asked, not seeing why Y/n needed her there. Not that she was mad, she loved being around her. And truthfully, she missed hanging out and not having Beck in the back of her mind.

         “It just feels like it's missing something. You know.” Y/n said with a tinge of frustration in her voice. “Like. There's something that isn't making the plot complete enough for him to have that monologue. He loves her, but it doesn't feel like he does enough.”

         Without warning, Jade took the laptop from her lap.

         “I’ll read it.” she grumbled. “You go dry your hair or something.”

         “Good idea.” Y/n agreed, leaving the couch and beading back to her bathroom.

         “And order a pizza!” She heard Jade shout.

         It didn’t take long for Y/n to dry her hair and put the pizza order in. And by the time she got back into the living room, Jade was finished with reading over the script. Instead, she was now holding her new pair of scissors and examining the blades.

         “Figure anything out?” Y/n asked, getting the girl’s attention.

         “Yeah.” Jade put down the scissors and turned her body to face Y/n as she came in and sat down. “Your characters don’t kiss.”

         Y/n month dropped and she bit her bottom lip awkwardly.

         “Well, I was thinking about putting one in, but I thought it would be better if there weren’t one. Think about the symbolism behind it. Without the action, it’s expressing how the two never truly experienced being together.” She explained.

         Jade hummed and nodded as if she were understanding.

         “That’s stupid.” she said. Somehow both calmly and aggressively. Y/n furrowed her brow and tilted her head. Asking without words for Jade to go on. “Y/n the script is good, the storyline is paced well, blah blah blah. But the only thing that isn't good is the way you're presenting that they are in love. You want the audience to be heartbroken for the guy, show them that he loved her.”

         “Okay, so, where do you recommend it goes?” Y/n asked, grabbing the laptop and scrolling through.

         “Obvious. Scene 4, during the confession, I think after she falls from the tree.” Jade said. Y/n quickly went there and read it over, thinking about how to go about it.

         “You don't think it's a little fast?” Y/n asked, twisting her face as unsureness creeped into her mind.

         “Course not. You've already presented their infatuation for each other, and after that scene their relationship is already escalating more quickly. If anything it makes more sense.”

         She was right. Y/n knew it. But she couldn't shake the fact that having this discussion with Jade felt unreal. Perhaps because Y/n was crushing on her, but also because while Jade was very knowledgeable in entertainment, relationships were more of a ‘on the surface’ knowledge.

         Typing quickly the placement of the kiss, Y/n let out a heavy breath.

         “And it’s in.” She announced mainly for herself.

         “Good.” Jade nodded, now smirking at her friend. “You wanna see how it flows with the scene?”

         Y/n kept scrolling down the document to the ending, avoiding looking at the vampiresque girl.

         “Uh, ” She cleared her throat to avoid cracking her voice. “What do you mean?”

         “Well do the scene, me and you. As then you can make the final choice on whether you like it or not.” Jade explained casually.

         “Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

         Despite sounding calm and nonchalant on the outside, Y/n was screaming on the inside. Surely Jade wasn't actually intending on kissing her right? They’d work up to it and then stop, right? No kiss?

         “Cool, I'll be the guy and do you have it all memorized?” Jade started, grabbing the laptop and placing it on her lap.

         “Yep, it's all in my noggin.” Y/n knocked on her head awkwardly, receiving a disapproving look from Jade.

         “I’ll start at the beginning of the confession.” The dark haired girl announced, reading the lines. Then she looked up, right into Y/n’s eyes. “Tell me, Ayleth, do you feel what I feel.”

         “Why, I'm not quite sure what you mean, my prince.” Y/n continued, swallowing her nervousness.

         “When you look into my eyes, do you as well feel that fire? The one raging inside of your heart and coursing through you. Making you think illogically, wanting nothing more than to be consumed completely by you.”

         “One shouldn't think illogically. One must think about their duties, their-”

“That wasn't the question.” Jade acted, her usual roughness and anger dropped as she said her lines. “Do you love me?”

         “I suppose it would be unwise to try to divert the conversation.”

         “Most unwise. Especially to your prince.”

         “Well. Yes. I believe I do.”

         There was silence between the two. This was where the kiss was written. In the quiet, they both seemed to be questioning whether they would actually kiss or not. They both leaned in, slowly but surely. Y/n’s heart sped up and she wondered whether Jade was feeling the same. No, of course not. It's part of the scene. She's just acting, obviously.

         The inches between them soon turned to fractions of an inch. And their lips were so close to meeting.

         Knock knock knock.

         They were interrupted by the door. “Y/n pulled away immediately.

         “Pizza. I’ll get it.” She chuckled nervously and got up.

         “They can wait.” Jade said instead. She grabbed Y/n’s wrist and pulled her back down on the couch.

         Before Y/n knew it, Jade placed a firm kiss on Y/n’s lips. Though shocked, Y/n quickly reciprocated the kiss. Jade placed her hand on Y/n’s cheek, while the other girl’s hand went to Jade’s waist. By now, Y/n’s heartbeat was going a million miles per minute and both girls forgot about the person waiting at the door.

         Until they knocked again.

         “Give us a minute!” Jade shouted angrily before turning back to her, uh friend? Y/n was giggling at her rage over small things like that. Jade noticed not only that her dark blue lipstick had smudged onto Y/n’s face, but that she also had a deep red blush that covered her face almost completely.

         “Should we practice again?” Jade asked instead of bring it up. And when Y/n nodded, she didn’t waste another second to lean in again, kissing her with more depth than the one before.

[d-targaryenshoe]

By Chance • Jackson Avery

Requested?: @lorenakaspersen ❤️

Summary: Y/N and Jackson have a kid together but when heartache gets too hard, then worse things happen

Warnings: surgery

Word Count: 1538

Letting go of someone you love with all your hear is hard sometimes, very hard. Knowing that you will no longer be the person they wake up next to. Or who they laugh with at the dumbest things.

The fact having a son together doesn't make it any easier. Not easier because you can't ask anything without being akward. Or thinking about the moments you have been through together.

Your son was the most important thing in your life. He was the reason you kept going and kept smiling.

But right now, you were walking in the rain. Hoping everything would turn back to normal, and the biggest impossibilities would turn possible. Just for this once.

Standing on the sidewalk, you were looking at a couple across the street, sitting next to each other, hands intertwined and live dripping of the both of them.

A sad smile was formed on your lips before a couple of tears decided to make their way up into your eyes, telling you that breaking wasn't a bad thing. It meant healing.

Watching down the street, car lights and shop lights where filling your sight, knowing that beautiful things still existed. You just had to find them and sometimes it just happened.

Throwing your handbag on the ground, you released a scream, being frustrated how your life had turned out. A single mother who was still in love with the father of your son.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Turning around a male around his 30's frowned at your face as he noticed the tears. "Can i help you?"

You released a sarcastic laugh, clapping your hands. "I'm a single mother who has a son and left his father because she knew he didn't want a kid, now he has a new girlfriend, a badass firefighter, no I'm not okay."

The man opened up his mouth to say something but instead he closed it, trying to process your rambling. "I should go."

"Yeah, you should!" Now you saw a couple people staring at you from a distance, which made you slightly walk backwards.

"Ma'am watch where you're going!" Before you could listen to the person yelling, you turned and saw two white headlights blinding your sight before you felt a hard blow on yourself.

As a person called an ambulance within a few minutes a siren was heard and people started to make a small crowd, curious to see what had happened.

The back double doors opened as the small black female walked out, known as Miranda Bailey followed by Meredith Grey.

"What happened?" Miranda demanded as she slightly glared at the people who were just staring at the scene. "Anyone gonna tell me?"

"Bailey, look at this!" Meredith motioned for the female to walk over, wanting to show her colleague something important.

Taking a hold of your hand, the blonde woman showed your ring finger, a silver ring placed on it. More to say, a ring that meant more to you than anyone could know.

"Are you freaking kidding me? Grey, look for any open wounds, she'll need surgery, Avery can't know." The woman was close to losing her cool as you were one of the persons she was the most protective of.

"The side of her stomach is swelled, probably a bleeding spleen, we need to transfer her." Meredith spoke up, pulling your shirt back down, looking at you with pursed lips.

"Gurney!" Taking a hold of the gurney Bailey and Meredith placed you down, rolling you into the ambulance, closing both of the doors.

"How am I suppose to not say anything to Jackson, he deserves to know, you know he does?" The blonde female stated, watching Bailey shake her head in denial.

"He's screwing a hot firefighter over Y/N damn Y/L/N, he doesn't, Grey." Miranda snapped when crossing her arms in anger. "He really doesn't."

Meredith frowned in deep thoughts, knowing somewhere she was right. But yet she felt bad, knowing she had to keep this to herself.

He cared somewhere although Vic wasn't what you were. She was pushy, you did everything on a low tempo. She was work addicted, you made time.

"Get up, we're here." Miranda spoke softly, taking a hold of the gurney at the end of the gurney, rolling you slowly out.

"Let's get you into surgery." Meredith mumbled, trying to give herself some courage, to not say anything and to save you.

"You got her?" The dark woman questioned, placing a hand on Meredith's shoulder, wanting to be sure the blonde could handle it. "I can scrub in too?"

"NO, I mean no, I want to do this alone." She replied, staring down at you as she started rolling you down the O.R.

Vic wasn't you. Not a little bit. Sure he felt okay with her but not like with you. Something about it was different.

"So, school went nice, huh?" Victoria smiled, squatting down to your son's fight, ruffling his curls as he smiled as well.

"Yes! Why are you always around my daddy?" Your son had this personality of always asking what his mind was saying, sometimes it satisfied you.

"Oh Well, uhm-" Vic had a small problem with answering these questions that came out of nowhere, maybe because she knew she wasn't you.

Taking in the sight in front of her, she noticed Jackson walking up to her with a confused expression. "Miles? Weren't you staying with your mom, today?"

"No! Vic surprised me at school and she picked me up!" The boy explained with a toothy smile at his dad, while Vic just pursed her lips.

"Y/N was supposed to pick him up, why did you do that?" Jackson asked, getting to start frustrated at her. "She's his mom."

"Why are mad? I wanted you to have some more time with him?" The curly haired woman argued, pointing at the small boy that was holding his dad's hand.

"You move in without asking, Y/N ignores me in here because of you, and now you pick up my son without asking me? I don't want a relationship like that, Vic." The blue eyed man rambled, shoving past the woman, holding his son's hand before a beeping sound went off.

"What's that, daddy?" Your son's voice sounded a little bit confused, staring up at Jackson.

"Aunt Mer is calling me, come on." Jackson bend down, picking up your son as he started walking towards the O.R.

"Aunt Mer!" As your son noticed Meredith standing out of the O.R. Her blonde locks were hidden behind the scrub cap.

"Hey buddy." Meredith smiled, wrapping her arms around the small boy, releasing him after a few second, taking a deep breath, looking at Jackson with nerves.

"What? Something wrong?" Jackson snorted, placing his hand in the pockets of his coat, staring at the blonde woman. "Mer?"

"It's Y/N. The person I just performed surgery on? It was Y/N." This was the moment Meredith Grey slightly broke down, tears flowed down on her cheeks. "She was in a car accident, I wasn't supposed to tell you."

Jackson shook his head at her, walking towards the wall and leaning his head on it. Watching his son being confused as he bent down.

"Where's mommy?" The little boy gazed up at Meredith and then back to Jackson. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"Yes! She's asleep, but I stopped the little bleeding so now she'll need to rest, but you can see her." Meredith explained, watching both of the persons in front of her, not knowing what to do herself.

"Can i stay with you here? While dad goes to see mom? I'm scared." The boy asked, wrapping his small hand around Mer's.

"Sure, I don't have surgery anytime soon, come on." Meredith softly spoke, walking towards the waiting room, placing a hand on Jackson's shoulder, giving him a nod. "Go and see her, I got him."

Giving her a nod back. The blue eyed surgeon slightly pushed the door of the room open, taking in a breath as he saw you laying.

You were looking out of the window. Doctors and patients passing. Wishing you were out there instead of in this bed.

"I heard." Jackson spoke up, closing the door, as you kept looking out of the window.

"You know, I still care about you and I shouldn't. Because you're happy and I'm good on my own." You spoke, turning your head at him, squinting your eyes.

"I'm not happy, I broke up with Vic." The sentence left his mouth and your heart stopped for a moment. "She's not you, I don't have the special moments with her like I had with you. And my mom won't shut up about you, April even hates me because I was with Vic."

"Oh." That was the word that left your mouth, fiddling with a loose thread from your blanket. "I'm sorry, I guess?"

"No I am, I'm sorry for not being there, for not fighting for what we had, for moving on so fast, for everything." Jackson said, looking you in the eyes, not knowing what else to say. "When you're healed, we can maybe go to Joe's?"

"When I'm healed." You replied, pulling up the corners of your mouth.

[lokis-army-77]

If You Please

Chapter three

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1994

I'm bad at writing descriptions, so this is basically a reader insert into The First Avenger and then we'll see how it goes from there.

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Masterlist

The afternoon passed quickly and soon it was almost time to go to bed. I was sitting in a chair, reading, in the living room. Steve was sitting in the chair to my left, drawing away in his sketchbook. For as long as I could remember growing up, Steve had wanted to become a comic illustrator. When we were younger he drew small comic strips about the adventures Bucky, himself, and I would go on. They were always fun to read, but then the US entered the war 3 years ago and Steve stopped drawing all the time and focused on trying to join the fighting. He even got Bucky to help train him at the local boxing gym in the afternoons. Now he only drew when he was anxious or if something was on his mind. I knew if I asked he would just deny it and put everything away.

“I’m off to bed Stevie. Don’t stay up too late,” I yawned. I placed my bookmark in between the pages and quietly pulled myself up from my chair. Steve followed and gave me a short hug.

“I won’t, I’ll probably head to bed here in a few minutes. Thank you for helping me pack today,” he said quietly.

“You’re welcome, I’ll see you off in the morning. Goodnight.” I headed out into the small hallway and into my bedroom. I got myself ready, turned off the bedside lamp, and then crawled into bed. The day had been fast but exhausting. I let my eyes close and my mind drifted to thoughts of Bucky on the ship headed to Europe. Was he okay, did he miss me yet, was he alone? I knew he would be fine, but I prayed anyway. I prayed that he would come back to me safe and sound. I also thought of Steve and how he would be going off to training. I knew Dr. Erskine had some plan involving Steve in Project Rebirth, but I just hoped that he knew what he was doing and that Steve would be safe.

Project Rebirth wasn't something to take lightly. We were creating stronger, faster, and better soldiers. Steve had no clue what he was getting himself into and even though I couldn’t tell him I was involved with this project yet, I would be by his side each step of the way.

Finally, tiredness overtook my worried thoughts and I drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning started like any other, I woke up to the jarring sound of the alarm clock by my head. After stretching I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom to wash the sleep from my face. The warm water helps to wake me up. When I was through with that I made my way into the kitchen to start making breakfast for myself and Steve like always. I had just placed the bread in the toaster when Steve strolled groggily into the room. He went over to the counter where I had placed our bowls of cereal and grabbed one. Then he walked over to the table to take a seat. When the toast was ready I put the pieces on a plate and took them over to the table after grabbing my cereal bowl. Steve grabbed a piece of toast off the plate and slowly started to eat.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, did you even go to bed like I told you,” I questioned him and took a few bites of my cereal.

“Yes, I went straight to bed a few minutes after you did,” he replied while glancing up from his cereal and through his lashes.

“Well, the dark circles under your eyes prove otherwise. You won't be able to stay up late and sleep in after you move into the barracks.” He shook his head and kept eating. “Well,” I started with a sigh, “I’ve got to head off to work in a few, I can walk you as far as the subway.”

“Thanks, It would be nice if you could come with me but I know you can't take off on such short notice.” I smiled at him and we continued to eat our breakfast in peaceful silence. After we finished I went to grab the empty dishes but Steve grabbed them before I could. “Here, let me. You go get ready.” I thanked him and went on to get ready for the workday.

When walking to the subway Steve and I cut up and joked like we always did. It wasn’t until we were almost at the subway stop that we became quieter. I grabbed Steve and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’ll see you later. Try not to get into too much trouble during training,” I joked before pulling away.

“I can’t guarantee that but I’ll try my best not to. Have a good day at work, and remember to lock the door when you get home, I know you forget to do that at times. I won't be there to lock it behind you if you forget.”

“That was one time, but I’ll remember to check it before I go to bed. Now go or you'll miss your ride.” I watched as he walked away, I waved to him when he turned around to me. I stood watching until he walked down the subway stairs. After he was gone I started on my way to the recruitment office, which was just about three blocks away.

It was a peaceful walk, the city was starting to come alive around me as I went. Women and men on their way to work and children on their way to school. The recruitment office was slowly coming into view, I could already see a line of young men standing from the door and down the sidewalk.

Once I made it to the building I maneuvered my way through the crowd of boys and headed to the back office where a short old woman sat at a desk sorting through some files. She looked up at me and smiled while she said, “Beautiful morning, do you have the time?”

I responded quickly with the other half of the code phrase, “Unfortunately my watch has stopped at 4:18.” She nodded and reached her hand under the desk to press a tiny button that would unlock a secret door that was hidden behind four large filing cabinets. I quickly headed in before anyone could come into the back room. The door closed softly behind me and locked back into place. I continued to walk down the dimly lit hallway until I found the women's locker room. Part of keeping the secret of working for the military was that I had to keep my uniform in the hidden base and change into it when I went into work.

After quickly changing into the uniform I left the locker room to go to the elevator that was directly at the end of the hall. I pressed the down button and the doors opened up. While inside I pressed the third level button and waited for the elevator to jerk to life.

As the doors slid open onto the third level basement floor I saw many people running around the yellow-lit hallways. I walked out into the hallway and was greeted by Agent Peggy Carter, who was walking towards me from the meeting room to my left. “Morning Carter, what's on the agenda today,” I questioned.

“Good morning Rogers, I believe today you and I will be going to Camp Lehigh to scout out the new recruits for Project Rebirth. We will be helping with their training starting before lunchtime today.” She kept walking as she explained the plans for today, I followed closely behind her.

“Then we should get to the car, it is almost nine,” I noted as we kept going through several corridors to the garage. “I have some things to tell you as soon as we leave.” Peggy nodded but kept quiet. After about a minute of walking, we made it to the large parking garage. It had been built under the secret base as a quick getaway escape or just a way to move discreetly in and out of the city. Some of the tunnels that were connected to the garage went on for several miles. The one we would be taking surfaced only a few miles away from Camp Lehigh.

As we reached the car, Peggy and I both opened our doors and slid into the back seat. A young army man was already in the driver's seat ready to drive us away. “What is it you wanted to tell me about earlier,” she asked.

“Do you remember me telling you about my older brother Steve?” I questioned while looking over at her.

“The one that keeps trying to enlist? I remember.” She nodded her head as she spoke.

“Yeah, that's the one. Well, yesterday he told me that he’s been recruited, and by Dr. Erskine. So that means that he is going to be one of the candidates for Project Rebirth. He has no clue what my job actually is, but with me being heavily involved in this project, will it be a problem? Are there any protocols that need to be followed?” She shook her head and let out a soft chuckle when mentioned Dr. Erskine. Then she looked out the window and seemed to think for a minute.

Turning back to me she said, “There isn’t any protocol that I can think of, other than that you have to treat him exactly like you would treat the other recruits. This is a sort of gray area because of your heavy involvement with this project over the last several years and the fact that Dr. Erskine himself chose your brother to be in this program.” I slowly nodded my head as she continued. “That being said, If we encounter him, I would give him a small explanation of why you are there without giving him any information about the project, and that while he is there in training, you are his superior, not his sister.”

“Okay, thanks. That's what I was thinking but I just wanted to ask you just in case. When I see him I’ll pull him over to the side and explain.” I paused for a second and lifted my hand up to grab at the necklace I had been wearing. Dangling from the small chain was a dainty art deco style ring, which once belonged to Bucky’s mother. I turned in between my fingers and watched as what little light there was, bounced off the small square diamond in the middle. I placed it back under my blouse. “James left yesterday with the 107th, I still haven’t said anything to Steve.”

“You’re going to have to tell him eventually, it will be better if it’s sooner than later. Since James is his friend he shouldn't be that mad. Trust me, I know from experience.” After saying this she looked out her window and for the briefest moment, I saw a look of sadness go across her face.

“I know I should tell him, but Steve has it in his head that James is someone who isn't going to settle down anytime soon.”

“That’s probably because neither of you has given Steve reason to not believe that James is that way. He’s your brother and he trusts your judgment, if it doesn't go over smoothly just give him time, he’ll come to realize that you and James love one another, and there really isn't anything he can do about it,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Here,” she handed me a small stack of manila folders, “look over these. They’re the files on all the project recruits.”

I opened the first folder and started to skim over the information and thought this was going to be a long drive.

[rouiyan]

𝘙𝘖𝘖𝘍𝘛𝘖𝘗 𝘙𝘖𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌 [ 𝘭.𝘵𝘺 ]

synopsis — taeyong is ready to take on the whole world and anything else that dare comes between him and a successful first date.

✧ idol!lee taeyong x (gender neutral reader) ✧ established relationship au, first date au

✧ genre : fluff ✧ word count 1.5k ✧ disclaimers light swearing, food

✧ author's note — kinda enduring a little phase of writer's block after exerting all my feelies on 'it's (un)conditional' but i got sum black tea, a ten minute break between classes, and i'm gonna fucking write this. 

the air is cold to the touch, breezy and crisp, with the loom of autumn sitting atop the clouds and you think it'll rain any second. suddenly, this very well-anticipated date comes with a feeling of dread. arriving at the apartment complex, you give yourself a once-over in the lobby mirror before heading up. taeyong had asked over facetime, a little under a fortnight ago, if he could take you on a date, something appropriately social distance themed. his door, now swinging open in front of you, caught the edge of his foot and from there, you brought your eyes up his figure to meet his own. 

the man is wearing casual jeans, a grey knit sweater and black shoes that resemble clogs, you're not very sure, but it isn't his outfit that throws you off, it's the gargantuan, and i mean, colossal, backpack that’s weighing down his posture. and not just any normal, day-to-day backpack, it's the fucking 'i'm going camping for seven days in the mountains' type of backpack, with the straps that clasp in the front, once across the chest and once across the waist. "taeyong, babe, you-"

he cuts you off, a sweet lopsided smile adorning his face, "ready to go?" 

taeyong doesn't answer but instead, takes lead, brushing lightly past you, his hand sneaking for yours and intertwining fingers in the process, eyes focused entirely up ahead. a few steps behind him, you peer over his shoulders (and enormous bag) to see that he's heading for the stairwell. confusion clouds over your face as you ponder whether to question him or not. taeyong clips the door open with the heel of his foot as he draws you by the hand in front of him, hands brief on your hips to guide you up the stairs from behind.

taking a fleeting glance at the man who's quick on your heels, you bear in mind the way the skylight that filters light softly down the column of stairs illuminates his face in a way you can only describe as superlunary, the gossamer-thin strands of hair falling into his eyes, bending light in ways that deem inconceivable. the fine features of his countenance that you are oh-so-blessed to be in the presence of on a daily. even the scar beside his eye offering another depth of otherworldly complexity to his expression. his smile broadens, crinkling up the corners of his eyes, scar included. 

taking a fleeting glance at the man who's quick on your heels, you bear in mind the way the skylight that filters light softly down the column of stairs illuminates his face in a way you can only describe as superlunary, the gossamer-thin strands of hair falling into his eyes, bending light in ways that deem inconceivable. the fine features of his countenance that you are oh-so-blessed to be in the presence of on a daily. even the scar beside his eye offering another depth of otherworldly complexity to his expression. his smile broadens, crinkling up the corners of his eyes, scar included. 

"please don't tell me we're going up to the tenth floor," you give into your questioning observations. 

"don't worry, even i have a hard time setting foot in there," he discloses, "a little further than that though, hope it isn't too tiring." 

"taeyong, sweetie, are you sure this isn't too tiring for you? with that hunk on your back and all?"

if your eyes weren't set ahead, you'd be met with another quirk of his lips, hands finding yours again and giving it a small, inspiriting squeeze. "not even a bit."

the door at the top of the stairway reveals a wide space, open to the sky and the teeming city below. but it's all the same as the sky you were met with upon arriving, the sunlight having trouble peering through the thick haze of grey clouds, the whole picture setting a muted film of scintillating light over the ground and all above. a frown crossed pout is cast in your visage as taeyong immediately sets to work in unpacking the load.

you stand a little off to the side until he spreads a thick blue blanket on the floor adjacent to the wall that houses the flight of stairs you’d just came from. sitting atop, you watch as he constructs a projector and screen setup, random objects emerging from the bag with each coming minute. soon you're left with a spread of chips and homemade salsa, your boyfriend's laptop, a blow-up couch, a hoard of pillows and blankets, and finally, the beginnings of pitter-patter drops from the sky. cursing, you look over at taeyong who, instead of looking anywhere near fazed, has a set look of determination lining his features, a rigid and clenched jawline, and brows drawn in to a point. he gives you a glance, one that immediately softens the creased lines on his face, and sets back to work in unearthing even more items from the never-ending pits of that bag. 

this time, it's a whole ass tent. a small one, but a tent nonetheless. he assembles it with ease, as if he'd done (or practiced) it a handful of times, and shoos you out of the way so he can move the whole configuration into the makeshift cover. you feel a tad bit useless, just standing under the awning of the landing, but it isn't as if you hadn't tried to help. it's just that every time you even dare to trespass into his little workspace, taeyong's frown deepens and he puts all work aside to guide you back under the awning, telling you to stay put and content.

the tent ends up providing even more comfort than the previous array, the sheeted material deflecting the light rain and privately enclosing the space within. your very well-thought-out movie date with taeyong begins but he's wallowing in apologies that "you're not able to see the view, though," and, "this basically negates the reason i brought you up here." you're not sure if you'd rather pay attention to your boyfriend's complaints at the situation and his maxed-out, but apparently still-lacking, efforts to make the best out of it, or the movie itself. you opt for the former, gently tucking his chin in between your index and middle fingers and using a soft kiss to lift the frown from his lips. 

"pay attention to the movie, babe, now you're negating the whole purpose of the date!" he's exasperated, you can tell, but also you know that paying attention to him as opposed to the movie, and praising him for his good work as opposed to the movie, and making sure he knows you appreciate the heartfelt sentiments as opposed to the movie, would cure his little tantrum a lot more effectively than anything else. so you shift until you're facing him, holding his face in your hands and making sure your sight is locked tight with his own. he breaks eye contact a total of four times, to try and deliver the hint that the movie is supposedly of more importance, but you stay persistent. 

"how'd your day go?"

"but the movie's still playin-" he's confounded.

"did you guys learn the new choreo?"

"hey, the movie- !" he feels as if you're antagonizing him. 

"oh, for fuck's sake taeyong, i care more about you than the movie!" he goes quiet at this.

it's right then and there that, after knowing you for a total of four years but only being able to call himself your boyfriend for the past month, he decides that he loves you. the long pause that ensues is drawn to a close when taeyong wraps you warmly in his embrace, the crown of his head molding in perfect unison with the crook of your neck, the dip of your clavicle. he mumbles, "i knew that," before withdrawing and taking your hand in his, yet again. he seems to enjoy the feeling of your knuckles rippling underneath the pads of his fingertips because he runs over them repeatedly, reassuringly, gladdeningly, lovingly.

"and i will still care about you even if we have a very muddled first date. even if you had let it rain on us, i would still care, really." 

he's mumbling, still, but you catch the small, "i love you," that falls from his lips like honey to your ears. you say it back like it's the easiest thing in the world, as if those three words have been at the tip of your tongue the entire time. you say it because it's what you feel most in a day's worth of emotions and that your love for taeyong is anything but shallow. it's a sea, a vast sea that runs on and on, miles wide and miles deep. and then there's taeyong. taeyong, who finds joy in the fact that he can swell your cheeks in the form of happy smiles and sincere affection. he finds pride in the fact that he can set your heart alight with simple but earnest actions. and he finds love in the fact that you love him back.

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — this is a prewritten and scheduled post. i will be taking a brief rest for the duration of today (102720) and will continue writing/posting tomorrow (102820). thank you for reading.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty

Words: 3.1K

Warning(s): Explicit language, substance abuse, verbal abuse

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My dad always used to tell me, "wisdom is being young enough to get away with doing something stupid, but still knowing better."

I never paid any attention to it because I didn't have any stupid decisions lined up at the age of eight. Or thirteen. Or sixteen...I guess because I never experienced the art of bad decision making and their damnable consequences, all of that pent up stupidity broke loose when I was seventeen and didn't slow down until I was in my thirties.

Young enough to get away with doing something stupid…

"What the hell are you thinking, Duff?" His older brother yells.

I'm listening with my ear pressed to the door, waiting in the hallway outside of Duff's apartment...trying not to be too mortifiedly embarrassed. 

"Matt, it's—"

"—You're fooling around with a married woman, Duff, I know exactly what it is!" He yells. 

"They're getting divorced, Matt, alright? It's not like I'm-I'm just sleeping with her for the hell of it!"

"She's getting out of a six year relationship and getting a divorce at twenty-three, Duff, don't you fucking think the reasonable thing for you to do is back off and let her actually process that before having sex with her?!" 

"It's not like I'm taking advantage of her! I'm not! She loves me—"

"—She's lost! She's vulnerable! She's confused! She'd fall in love with any bone head that was a good guy right now!" He shouts at him. "What are you thinking, Duff? I mean, honestly, what the hell are you fucking thinking?" 

"I-I don't know!"

"What the fuck happens if the media gets ahold of this? If mom finds out that her son is getting hot n' heavy in cars in dark parking lots with a married girl!"

It's quiet for a second.

"I would explain that they're getting divorced, and—"

"—Bullshit. You know what she'd say? 'Married is married until divorce is finalized'." He states. 

"I think mom would be pretty understanding, Matt. I don't think she'd judge me like you are or try to talk me out of it."

"You sound like dad right now, you know that? Just fucking like him." He cuts. "And it's bullshit because I know you aren't anything like dad which is why I'm so stumped right now." 

"It's not that big of a deal." Duff argues. 

"Has she filed yet?" Matt asks next, not skipping a beat. 

"W-What?" 

"Has he filed yet? Have they filed yet?" 

"I don't know—it's not my fucking business." 

"So you're just sleeping with her and you don't even know if they're even splitting up at this point? Of course not because she probably doesn't even know what she wants!" 

"She told me she's gonna divorce him." Duff tells him, certainty in his tone. 

"Well, actions speak a hell of a lot louder than words, don't they?" Matt fires at him.  

...but still knowing better.

The door opens quickly and I pretend I wasn't listening, taking a few steps back as Matt storms out, giving me a second glance before walking down the hallway to the stairs.

I peek into the apartment to see Duff pacing, not paying any attention to me still being out here. 

I take a breath before heading after him. 

"Matt," I say when I get to the parking lot as he goes to his car, "wait."

"You don't owe me an explanation about it, sweetheart, it's between me and my brother." He tells me calmly, getting into his car. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I ask him, catching my breath, before he can close the door. 

He looks at me for a second. 

"Do you? Or a wife or a boyfriend or something?" 

"I have a girlfriend." He tells me. 

"How long have you been with your girlfriend?"

"Like, almost a year, now." He replies, not seeing the point of telling me this. 

"I bet you're really good to your girlfriend, Matt." I say, and he slowly catches on, sighing a little. 

"I try to be."

"Nikki wasn't good to me. For years. While he was killing himself with drugs, he was killing me with how he treated me and how he acted and when you really love somebody you sit and make excuses for them to make however they're killing you seem justified, and it's not. It never is." I explain, a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. "And you don't realize it until one day you're watching a woman you loved and trusted tell the world she's been having an affair with your husband. And then those rose lenses shatter and it's clear. You've spent years of your life giving everything to someone who would probably trade you for an ounce of smack if he ran out." I sniffle. "I really loved him, and you're right, I do still love him. I do. But I also know I'd rather die than willingly throw myself back into that hell. I haven't filed yet, but I am going to when he gets back from Japan. And I do love Duff, and he's a very, very good man. I don't know the situation with you guys' father and it's not my business, but whoever and whatever your dad is...your brother is the farthest thing from it. And I know you are, too, just from the way Duff's always spoke of you and your siblings. I'm sorry for the trouble, and I know you're just trying to look out for him, but you need to be proud of him. Not for what you saw earlier, but just for the fact he's a really great person in a city filled with selfish pricks. You need to be proud of him, and he needs to hear that you're proud of him." 

He lets out another breath, processing what I'm saying, nodding again. 

"Have a good night." He mumbles to me, shutting the door, and I let out a breath and head back upstairs, seeing Duff stopped pacing and eventually just plopped onto the couch. 

He looks at me when I come back in, his eyes sad, a solemn look on his face. 

"I'm sorry if you heard any of that." He says to me and I sit down on the couch beside him. 

"It's okay. He's just trying to look out for you, you know?" 

"I know but he doesn't even know the half of it." He sighs. "And I'm not acting like my dad because if I were I'd be sleeping with anything in a skirt and leaving my wife to deal with my eight kids. 

He tells me lowly, hurt in his voice. 

I try to find the humor in it, nudging his side. 

"You have a wife and eight kids?" I ask, smiling a little and he looks at me, his lips tugging at the corners. 

"No," his lips crack the smallest of smiles for a moment, "but even if I did I wouldn't treat them like shit." He adds. 

My hand comes up to discreetly brush against my stomach. 

"Your brother just wants the best for you." I tell him.

"Who cares? It's not his or anybody else's business." He replies, leaning back, rubbing his forehead. 

"I love you." I offer, hoping the words make him relax a little. 

He huffs out a breath, finally looking at me, his hand grabbing mine, pressing it to his lips.  

I did love him, just not the way I thought I did. I mean, when I was in love with Nikki, it was evident to everybody. I looked at him like I worshipped the ground he walked on—because I nearly did. With Duff, people had to ask me whether I really loved him or not. I always thought it was because we were moving so fast that it seemed abnormal, but in photos when Duff and I were together it was obvious he and I had no fucking clue what we were doing. We were happy with each other, and loved each other, but it was like we both subconsciously knew we weren't going to workout. At least we eventually accepted it. 

I could've divorced Nikki, eventually married Duff, anyway, and made the same bizarre decision that Tansy and Axl made to divorce twice before finally getting married a third time, years later, when their shit was together—because even if Duff and I did get married, we wouldn't have made it through the early 90s.

A couple mornings later, I'm going back to my house since the coast is clear from Nikki since he left for Japan. 

Checking the mail, I furrow my brows as I'm sorting through the bills, randomly seeing an envelope with my name on it. 

I take the mail inside and open my letter.

"What the hell?" I mumble, looking at a couple hundred dollar bills.

Then it hits me. 

"Hello?" Karen's voice on the other end of the phone, chipper as ever. 

"Why the hell am I getting sketchy money from Elektra?" I ask. 

"It's from 'Wild Side', Viv." She explains. "Because Nikki credited you as one of the writers, remember? They couldn't write you a check because it's under the table." She adds. 

"Under the table?" 

"To avoid—"

"—Well, I don't want it." I state. 

"Viv, you're getting a divorce. I'd keep every dime I could, honestly." She advises. 

"Karen, that's no…" I trail off, my mind running a mile a minute, piecing it together. "What time is it in Japan?" 

"Uhm, like, 2:00a.m. maybe?"

"Where are they staying?" 

"Vivian—"

"—I need to talk to Doc. Where are they staying?" 

I didn't want to talk to Doc. Don't ask me how I managed to harass my estranged husband from 16 time zones away, but, I did.

"You knew you were gonna divorce me, you piece of shit, that's why you credited me so I'd get money to cover divorce court!" I accuse viciously. 

"I don't fuckin' know what you've been smoking, Vivian, but you sound insane right now!" He fires back. 

"What I've been smoking? What the fuck have you been smoking, Nikki?! Huh?!"

"Have you been sleeping, Vivian?! You're being fucking psychotic!"

"I'll get on a flight and show you fucking psychotic, asshole, you set me up and then left the fucking country!"

"I credited you as a joke—I didn't think they'd actually take it serious and send you part of the royalties!" 

"Bullshit! You and Vanity planned for her to tell everybody about your bullshit with each other, knowing I'd leave you and file for divorce so you could be together!" 

"If I was that fucking mean, Vivian, I wouldn't have credited you so you wouldn't have gotten paid shit, you crazy bitch!" He insists. "And take your goddamn medication!" 

He hangs up and I roll my jaw before throwing the phone.  

I could've killed him had I felt like flying to Japan.

"Then he tells me I'm being psychotic!" I vent to Izzy over the sound of the vacuum. 

"Well, were you?!" He asks me and I cut the vacuum off. 

"No, I wasn't. I just called him out on his bullshit because he loves to think I'm stupid."

"What exactly did you say to him?" 

"That he credited me so I'd get money, that I'd probably put toward paying for a divorce."

"That's not too bad." He furrows his brows a little. 

"Exactly. Not to mention the fact I know he's still seeing Vanity and the whole plan was to tell the world they were engaged, knowing I'd leave him, so they could finally publicly be together." 

He looks at me funny, before asking, "d-did you tell him that?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, you lost me, Viv."

"What?"

"That's complete bullshit." He states. 

"How?" 

"How? Viv, the man is on a horse-sized dose of heroin on a daily basis—and the crack he would smoke with Vanity—do you think either of them had the energy or mental compacity to conduct a plan like that?" 

"They had the energy to fuck each other, so, my perception of how much they were able to do under the influence has no limits at this point." I argue. 

"I think pregnancy has you cuckoo  for cocoa puffs." He mumbles. 

"Izzy, I'm being serious." I hiss. 

"I am, too, Viv." He tells me. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be a complete asshole, but I just don't see Nikki high as a fucking kite coming up with this elaborate plan to leave you so he can be with his side piece while simultaneously deciding he wants you to be financially stable enough to withstand a divorce. He's a mean fucker. If he wanted to leave you, he would tell you to fuck off and file the same day without giving a flat fuck if you could afford it or not." He says. "And he's not seeing Vanity. There's no way she'd keep her mouth shut if they were still together." 

"She managed to keep her mouth shut about it for over a year." I grumble. 

"Yeah, because she was probably hoping he'd leave you for her." 

I stop what I'm doing and look at him. 

"Do you think he would've if she didn't tell everybody about it?" I ask next. 

"I don't know, Viv." He answers honestly. 

"Would you?" 

He glances at me, serious for a moment, before the hint of a smile tugs at his lips. 

"Never in a million years." He says and I smile a little. "Would you leave me for Duff?"

I pretend to think for a second. 

"Depends on who's better in bed." I reply with the response I expected from him and he just blinks at me. 

"Fuck you." He says and I laugh, eventually getting quiet, really thinking about what I said the last time we spoke. 

"I'm not gonna do that to Duff." I say to him and he just looks off for a second. 

"What made you change your mind?" 

"He really loves me, Izzy." 

"Yeah, he does." He shifts on his feet. 

"Do you think...like, if him and me stay together…" I don't have to finish it, he already knows where I'm going. 

"I think it'll be great for the first several months because it always is." Izzy replies. "But once the new wears off and things get more clear…" 

"...Yeah."

NIKKI 

"Jesus fucking Christ."

I beat the phone against the wall so the crazy bitch can't call here again. 

"Two o'clock in the morning and she's making a long distance call just to gnaw my balls over something I didn't even fucking do? And bringing Vanity back up? What the fuck's her problem? 

So, she got money for her credit, oh well. Plenty of people wouldn't necessarily mind seeing a couple hundred dollars for them in their mailbox but of course her ungrateful ass can't even be thankful for it." I hiss to myself pacing my room. "Cunt." I add, grabbing my bottle of wine from the TV stand, taking a big swig of it. 

"Fuck her." I state next. "Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her...fuck," I take my wedding band off and throw it at hard at I can at the mirror in the corner of the room, on the wall, "her!" I yell when it makes impact, taking a step back, and another, falling flat on my ass. 

I don't have the energy to get up, laying on my back and staring at the ceiling. 

Just like my dad. 

Just like my mom.

She just fucking left me...and I made her. 

"Fuck her." I refuse to admit aloud it's my fault because it's not.

Sure, I fucked Vanity, I cheated on her first, but that doesn't give her the excuse to do the same to me. 

"Fuck her." I repeat again.

I kept trying to convince myself I hated her. The truth was I hated myself, and was just trying to get that frustration out by turning on her. 

It was easy to do when I imagined her under Duff while I was across the world, suffering, telling myself repeatedly she didn't give a shit about me.

She was probably thinking of me under a random groupie the entire time I was gone, and I don't blame her. I stayed under random groupies any other time, so why would Japan be any different? Especially after she and I were separated and had no obligations to each other.

I didn't have sex in Japan, honestly. I couldn't. I was too fucked up. I would try to, but it just wouldn't go over too well. My body was give out from abuse, my hands were scabbed from picking, my skin ate up with track marks, my face was sallow. 

Fans would tell me they were worried I had the flu and I'd laugh it off and promise I was okay, then go to my room and stay locked in there until I absolutely had to leave. 

I was on smack, constantly, to the point I wasn't even high but just shooting smack as maintenance, which served as a good excuse when a big magazine reporter came to Japan to talk to me and the guys about the tour and when the topic of Vanity came up…

I try to keep from rolling my jaw as the loser starts his question cautiously, testing the waters to see if I'm going to cut him off and tell him to ask another question or fuck off, or if I'm okay with it. 

I remember Vivian's bullshit idea about me and Vanity wanting her to find out about the affair so she'd leave and we could be together. 

Why the fuck would I go through that much shit just to be with someone like Vanity? 

Leaving Vivian to be with Vanity is like leaving the frying pan to hop into the fire dick-first. 

With this in mind as, "so, who is she to you?" finally leaves his mouth in reference to Vanity, pen in hand, ready to jot my answer and spread it around America the second it leave my lips, I pretend to think for a moment, and finally reply, "she was my fiancée." 

[angelsswirl]

Petrichor

Six

"Thought I saw your shadow under the door. Just a trick of the light I've seen before. I can never tell what's real anymore. Anymore. Anymore."

Irene broke into the apartment with a huff. She scowled at her drenched umbrella. She placed the offending accessory into Jisoo's shoe. That's what she gets for not opening the door.

She intended on telling her just that, as she trudged further into the living room.

"Do you know what the word 'petrichor' means?"

Irene yelped.

She turned to Jisoo. The alpha was dramatically staring out the window. Watching New Yorkers scramble to get away from the torrential downpour.

"...What in the late 90s, early 2000s music video is going on here?"

"It's the smell that comes after it rains." Jisoo is still staring out the window.

Irene has never tried harder not to laugh at something in her entire life.

"What's wrong, Jisoo? How long have you been standing there?" Irene looked around the room for a camera. She was surely being punk'd right now.

"I feel like petrichor." Jisoo said as she continued to stare out the window.

"What does that even mean!?"

"She called me. I tripped over myself trying to get to my phone. She asked if I wanted to have sex with her like she didn't know that I have never wanted to do anything more in my entire life. And then she hung up."

Irene sighed as she took a seat on the couch. She crossed her arms, mentally preparing herself for Jisoo's definitely impending meltdown.

"A little odd, but not seeing a problem yet."

"She asked if I wanted to have sex, and then we didn't."

"That was the most assholish thing you have ever said to me. And that's saying something because you talk a lot. So, I'm going to let you rephrase that before I punch you in the face."

"No. You don't get it. She didn't have sex with me because she was doing it with someone else. And then she came over here like she didn't." Jisoo finally turned to look at Irene. Irene is sure Jisoo would have a 5 o'clock shadow if she possessed the ability to grow one.

"Well, did she come over to rub it in your face?"

Jisoo's eyebrows furrowed, "...No, she came because I asked her to, Lia wasn't feeling well and I needed her help...but it felt like she was rubbing it in." Jisoo pouted.

Irene chuckled softly, "You're so oblivious. Anyhow, I'm sure I don't have to tell you, she can fuck who ever she wants."

Jisoo stomped her foot petulantly, "But why couldn't she want to fuck me?! Why am I always second place?"

Irene sighed, her lips forming a deep, concerned frown, "Where is this coming from, Chu?"

"Jihyo's getting married."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And it shouldn't be that big of a deal, but she's the mother of my child, we coul-could've worked it out. Been a family, but no. I'm never anyone's first choice." Jisoo sat down on the couch next to Irene, her face cradled in her hands.

"Are you sure you would've wanted that. To be mated and married to Jihyo? You said the next morning you barely remembered her name, and she had told you it twice like a minute before."

Jisoo uncovered her face and thought about it for a few moments, "No. We'd probably kill each."

"Exactly, so how could you be first place if you never even put yourself into the race?"

"I think I liked you better when you were mean to me."

"You like me anyway you can get me."

They both laughed softly.

"I'm still mad. She could have told me she couldn't come over."

"She's an omega and you told her a child was sick. What was she supposed to do? Five bucks says she completely forgot where she had been ten minutes earlier as soon as she got here."

"Could you just let me hold my grudge that is heavily justified in my head?"

"If you want to be single for the rest of your life, by all means, hold that dumbass grudge, but don't come crying to me when she kicks you in the crotch."

"Why are you here anyway?"

"Oh yeah! I wanted to kick your ass in PUBG. Seulgi's pregnant and she's mad at me, so I ran away. " Irene jumped up to find Jisoo's laptop casually.

"Seulgi's pregnant!?"

"Yeah. Must be in the air or something." Irene shrugged nonchalantly.

"...Something's wrong with you."

"Pot. Kettle. Black."

~•~

"How do you keep getting in here? Don't I have security?" Rosé made a mental note to fire someone later.

"Have you made up your mind?" Joy asked, completely ignoring the previous questions hurtled her way.

"Hello to you, too." Rosé rolled her eyes. She came around her desk to sit on top of it, her arms crossed at her chest.

"Answer the question, Chae."

"You walked into my job and demanded that I mate you. And then when I said 'Hell no' you told me to think about it. Now you're back, asking if I made up my mind. Did you think you were going to get a different answer?" Rosé had to hold back a laugh at that. Surely, Joy didn't think she could be manhandled into mating her.

They had broken up months ago. It was mutual, or so Rosé had thought. They were headed in two different directions in life and would probably never end back up on the same path. But all of a sudden, Joy was pushing it.

"So, what are you trying to say?" Joy huffed. Her giant loop earrings swinging as she did so.

"I don't want to mate you. I don't want to court you. I want you-"

Joybgasped, "I want you too, Rosé!"

"-OUT OF MY GODDAMN OFFICE!" Rosé seldom raised her voice, it mainly happened during a meeting with the CEO of Spectrum. He was an asshole, and very talkative.

Outside of that, Rosé could count on one hand how many times she had yelled at someone, including this one.

Normally, she felt bad afterwards. She was an alpha and most of the time when she yelled, people noticed, people felt it, especially omegas. But even as Joy whimpered and crocodile tears formed in the corner of her eyes, Rosé couldn't bring herself to care.

"But why not?!" Her bottom lip jutted out and her arms crossed over herself.

"Because I love someone else!" Rosé actually surprised herself there a bit. She didn't mean for that to explode from her mouth and into the expanse of her office. But that didn't take away from the fact that it was true. She just hadn't planned on admitting that yet.

"You do?" Joy asked with a slump of her shoulders.

"You do?"

Both Rosé and Joy startled. Rosé glanced at the space that was between her and Joy before pulling away.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

"Yeri...she let me up. I came-I came to bring you lun-you love me?" Your thoughts are running a mile a minute. You can't keep your sentences in order. And your hands are sweaty. It's taking every ounce of dexterity you have not to drop Rosé's lunch on the ground.

Rosé glanced at Joy before walking around her and towards you slowly, "I-you don't have to say it back, but yeah. I love you. And you probably think it's too soon, but I do. A lot."

There were about ten different emotions playing across your face. The most prominent being surprise, maybe? You're a bit difficult for Rosé to read.

"I-I-you love me?" It's just a whisper this time. The suprise morphing into disbelief and confusion more than anything else.

Rosé nodded and Joy huffed.

"Oh." You mumbled softly. Rosé pressed a gentle hand to your cheek, and you let her, "Oh." You mumbled again, this time with a slightly different inflection in your voice.

~•~

You didn't know what you were feeling. You were happy and sad and excited and mad and confused and terrified and glad and guilt-ridden all at the same time.

It made you sick to your stomach.

You're sitting alone in your apartment. It's been three days since Rosé. Your phone sat idly in your hand. Waiting patiently to be used.

You needed to call someone. To talk to someone. But you're not sure who would understand any of this.

You eventually decided on Jisoo. Because why not make this even more hard on yourself?

After several rings it went to voicemail. Which, hurts to say the least. You can't help but think Jisoo is screening your calls.

But, you're nothing if not a masochist.

You called again. It goes to voicemail again.

After the first call, it hurt. After the second call, it hurt even more. After the third call, it pissed you off.

You're mad now.

You: At least let me know you're alive, you giant gaping asshole.

Jisoo turned her read receipts off to spite Irene, so unfortunately, you will never know if she sees it or not that way.

About three minutes later your phone lit up with a notification.

It's an Instagram notification. It's Jisoo's Instagram notification.

You rolled your eyes, but opened it anyway.

It's a picture of Lia with Jisoo's friend, Kai. Lia does not seem to be enjoying herself.

The caption is only one singular emoji:👶🏻

You blew out a puff of air, at least you knew they were alive.

You scrolled a bit into the comment section. It's mainly just viewers saying how cute Lia is. But there's a couple that caught your eye.

You should do another video with Y/N!

Yeah, but where's Y/N?

You might accidentally on purpose like that second one. It's a question you needed the answer to too. And maybe once they found out, they could tell you.

[ms-rampage]

Eden's Gate: Left Behind Chapter 3 - First Encounter

Warnings: Does sorta cutesy stuff count?

Word count: 2k

Once again John is out of character 😂😂, a certain Pepper girl is introduced, Kate has a few minor Sam Winchester moments and talks with a K9. Like I said in the other chapters, I added the University, and the Diner/Cafe for this series because #HeacanonShit.

Alissa (FC: Rhea Ripley)

Morgan (FC: Kathryn Newton)

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

For the past few days John watched over Kate, and got very little to no information about her.

She must be a very private person. 

"Where is she from?".

"What's her first name? Middle name?" 

"What's her birthday?" 

"What are her hobbies?" 

"Does she like planes?".

He was basically driving himself insane trying to get anything on her. 

He knows Joseph is right, but what if he isn’t?. What if she doesn’t like him?.

What if she doesn’t like men? Is she a sinner? A nonbeliever?. 

He didn’t even have the damn courage to approach her, and when he did, he kept getting interrupted by his men. They always called for him at a bad time, that's all they’re good for, bad timing. 

Tapping the keys on his keyboard, he finds more information about her.

"There you are" he says, sighing in relief. Clicking on the link with a photo of her.

Katella Evyanna Winchester 

Born in Phoenix, Arizona 

Lived in Jackson, Wyoming 

DOB: August 5 1998 age 19 

Father: Deceased

Mother: Unknown

Sibling: Jackson, Wyoming.

School: Hope County University, former Jackson University

Works: University Cafè & Diner.

"Interesting bio Katella" he says with a smile on his face. 

He has her full name, where she works, goes to school, her home address and a little bit of information about her family.

He wants to meet her face to face, and hopefully no one interrupts him.

He doesn't understand why, but he wants to be with her. 

She has potential to be, if it ever came to that point his wife, and maybe the mother to his future children. When they march to Eden's Gate.

He wants to know more about her "What does she like?". 

She has a dog, so he knows she likes dogs, and she has a classic car so she probably likes older cars than newer cars. 

"She works at the diner at the University. Maybe I can go see her?" he says to himself, unsure. 

He gets up, goes to his car and drives to the cafè diner.

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

Kate’s working, it's her first day on the job. 

She has an hour and 10 minutes until she’s off. 

The rush is not bad, it's pretty steady especially for a Thursday. 

It's her, her friends Morgan, and Alissa, and their supervisor Holly working. 

Morgan and Kate are clearing off the tables, collecting their tips, Alissa is taking a customer's order, Holly is working the counter, cleaning, and making coffee even though it's after 3:30pm. Kate was suppose to start at 4pm until 10pm but she was able to start her training early, and get off early, 11am until 5pm.

About 10 minutes later, John pulls into the parking lot outside the diner. He sees the black Monte Carlo. 

"Alright so she's working today" he says to himself. 

He parks his car, gets out and walks towards the building. 

He takes a glance into the window, and sees Kate cleaning up tables, his stomach starts to feel weird, and he might feel a little too excited to see her. 

As he's about to open the door, he sees Holly at the counter, "Shit" he mutters to himself. The feeling in his stomach goes away the second he sees Holly. 

The last person he never wants to see is her, they had a few nights together in the past, and that was several months ago. 

"Maybe she won't recognize me" he whispers to himself. Walking inside.

Oh boy was he wrong. John felt like the stupidest person in the county. Holly looks up, and immediately recognizes him. He tries to play off cool, and he ends up awkwardly walking to a table towards the back of the diner.

"I'll be right with you sir" Kate says to him, as she takes a bin of dishes into the kitchen. 

A smile forms on his face just by hearing the sound of her voice. It's very soft, and calming, almost like lavender. The feeling in his stomach comes back.

She comes back out from the kitchen a minute later, and walks towards John's table with a notepad and pencil in hand. 

But she unfortunately gets cut off by Holly, pushing her back a little. 

"It's okay sweetheart I got this" she says to Kate in a bitchy tone. Kate gives Holly, her classic (Sam Winchester) bitch face, and walks back to the counter towards Morgan. 

"So get this, Holly took my customer" Kate whispers to her. She snickers "Typical Holly" Morgan whispers back. 

"Thought I never see you again John'' Holly says to him in a sarcastic tone.

He shrugs, trying to play it cool, and says "Well I just stopped by to see someone". 

She gives him a hopeful but flirty look, and asks "Anyone in particular?". 

He smirks, crossing his arms and says. 

"Someone new, and slightly younger". 

Her expression changes from hopeful to annoyed. 

"What can I get you?" she asks. 

"A large coffee with 2 shots of scotch" he says jokingly.

"And maybe the cute brunette waitress in the flannel" he adds, looking over at her.  

Kate almost drops a plate with a customer's food onto their lap. She can feel her face turning red after he says this. She looks back at him, and he winks at her. 

Holly rolls her eyes in annoyance, and gives him a dirty look.

Morgan and Alissa overhear him, and they both let out a soft laugh. Holly looks back at them, while they walk towards the kitchen trying to hold back their laughter. John stares at Kate as she walks behind the counter. 

"Same ol' John Seed" she says, her hands on her hips.

Nodding his head "Yep, same ol' me" with a smirk. 

"Just a coffee" he adds. 

"Alright then" she says, walking to the counter. 

Kate comes out from behind the counter, and gives a customer their check. 

John looks up, and down at her, "she's got a cute ass" he thinks to himself. 

He can feel himself starting to get hard. He wishes he didn’t feel this way, but he’ll take her over Holly anyday. If only she moved to Hope County a lot sooner, so he wouldn’t have to deal with Holly.

She comes back with his order, and sees him eyeballing Kate. 

She scoffs "Someone new and younger huh? You haven't changed a bit have you?". 

He just shrugs while opening a pack of coffee cream. 

"Not really" he answers, with a cocky smug smile. 

Annoyed, Holly walks into the kitchen. 

He pours the cream, and sugar into his coffee, not realizing Kate is looking at him. 

His heart particularly skips a beat when she speaks to him.

"I like your tattoos" she says motioning to the tattoos on his hands, and arms. 

He looks up at her and smiles "Thanks". 

She sees the small lawyer scale tattoo he has on his hand, and asks. 

"Are you a lawyer?". 

"Yeah I am" he answers, looking down at it. 

"Never seen a lawyer with a lot of tattoos before” she jokes. That puts a smile on his face. 

“Where did you go to school?" she adds. 

His mind goes blank for a moment, and says. 

"I went to Emory Law in Atlanta". 

Kate stares at him for a few seconds, but to him it felt like hours, and he loves it. 

He loves to have her attention. He could’ve really used it growing up.

"You look very familiar. Normally, I'm terrible at remembering faces but yours just looks really familiar" she tells him. 

He half smirks, and says "I saw you the other day. You walked past the church". 

They say "walked past the church"  at the same time. 

They both smile at each other. 

Holly clears her throat in annoyance. 

Putting an end to their conversation, she tells her. 

"Kate, can you go get some more ground coffee from the walk in". 

"Yeah sure" she says, already detecting the jealousy in her voice. 

Walking into the kitchen. 

Holly approaches him, placing her hand flat on the table. 

"I know what you're doing" she tells him, in a slightly threatening tone. 

"Do you though?" he asks, tilting his head. 

"Yeah I do. You're flirting with the younger waitress to make me jealous". 

He scoffs with a hint of laughter, and says "Oh Holly, you haven't changed, have you?". 

She gives him an angry look, and says with attitude. 

"Don't waste your time on her. She's a bookworm. Only cares about her school work, grades and all that shit. She probably doesn't have anything interesting to do in her life". 

And Holly is very far from being right, like several thousand miles from being right. Kate’s life is a lot more interesting then she thought it would be.

He looks at her, lets out a short laugh, and says. 

"She sounds like she's my type. I mean have you seen her car?."

He leans forward, and whispers “She’s wife material”.  

Kate comes back out with the coffee, and fills up the machine. 

Alissa comes out from the kitchen, and walks over to her, asks. 

"What time are you off?" 

She looks at the clock on her phone, and says. 

"In 25 minutes". John overhears this, he finishes off his coffee. Pays the check, and says sarcastically.

"Great seeing you again Hol". 

He winks at Kate one last time before he leaves, causing her to smile again. 

Alissa whispers to Kate. "I think he likes yooouu". 

Morgan comes out from the kitchen, and whispers in her other ear. "I'm sure he wants to fuck yooouu" while hitting her ass.  

The 3 of them laugh about it, and Kate finishes the last 25 minutes of her shift. 

When the next waitress clocks in. 

She clocks out, gathers all her stuff, and leaves to her car. 

As she’s putting her stuff in the passenger side.

She hears a familiar voice say, 

"That's a nice car you got there". She turns around, and sees John. 

"Thanks" she says smiling. 

"Is it yours?" he asks. 

"Sorta. It was my grandfathers, then he gave it to my uncle, and he gave it to me" she answers. 

He nods his head. "I have my car, and my plane" he says, trying not to brag but he’s actually bragging. 

Kate, who is actually impressed, asks "You fly?". 

"Yeah, I love my plane. Do you like planes?". 

Not knowing what to say, she was honest.

"I’ve never been on a plane before. But I’m pretty sure I would enjoy it" she says. 

"I can take you out for a fly someday" he offers, hoping she says “Yes”.

She smiles, seeing his little game, and asks “Is this your way of asking me out?". 

He smiles, asks “Is it working?”. His eyebrows cocked.

She looks away, smiling and looks back at him, saying “It is actually”.

“Well I guess, we have a date then. How’s Saturday?” a charming smile. Those baby blue eyes piercing through her. Making her insides shake, bursting with butterflies. She’s surprised a handsome man like him is showing signs of affection towards her. She’s not letting this opportunity slip pass her. 

“That sounds great, I’m off at 5 on Saturday” she replies, with a smile. “Well I gotta get going, it was nice meeting you. John, right?”

He nods his head, says with a hint of lust in his voice. 

"It was a pleasure meeting you too Kate". 

She detects the lust in his voice, but ignores it, she’s way too excited that someone showed that kind of attention towards her. 

They go their vehicles, and drive their separate ways.

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

That night Kate is working on her Psychology homework, trying her best to stay focused. 

Even though it's still the first week of that semester, she can’t fall behind.

John keeps coming to mind, throwing her off her work. Distracting her.

She sighs loudly, leaning back in her seat, yawning out loud and stretching her arms out.

“Oh boy” she says, sighing.

Haley looks up at her owner with a head tilt. 

“I got asked out today Hale. Ain’t that a bitch” she says to her dog, as if she were human.

She lets out a bark, “Yeah, I know it's crazy huh?. The dude is a lawyer!!”.

She continues “So get this, he wants to take me for a ride in his plane”.

A pitchy whine comes from her along with another head tilt. She lets out a yelp, and sits on the floor next to her. 

She scratches behind her ear. 

“Yeah, I know. I told him that I’ve never been on a plane before, I panicked. I wasn’t gonna tell him that my sister and I exorcised a demon from one of the pilots. But I’m sure it’ll be fine, Paige won’t she’d have a heart attack and probably shit herself” she laughs at the last part.

[diningpageantry]

Dances

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672919/chapters/44712844

Chapter 3/12 of Proximity (The Collision of Lonely Men)

Word Count: 2019

Chapter Summary: School events dig up old scars for both Simon and Baz alike.

The room reeks of fresh linoleum flooring and teenage cologne. It's bright--the lights fade in and out of aggressive tints of pinks and blues and greens. I don't know what else to expect from a school dance.

Granted, it's the first one I've ever been to, so I didn't plan on expecting much, anyway. Still, clearly not the greatest time, nor the greatest company, either.

I tried to protest my co-chaperone. Begged Penny to do it, or to help me find someone who's willing (since I still know next to no-one), but everyone's reaction was the same.

“Why the hell would I want to chaperone with Basilton?”

Which is, roughly, the same reason I've been trying desperately to get out of it. It isn't that I don't want to be at the dance, it's the concept that I'm stuck beside this prick all night.

In actuality, he doesn't need to be exactly beside me, just in eyesight. Currently, we're leaned up against the back wall, separated only by the snack table (which I keep bombarding every time I feel). He's well dressed--purple patterned blazer with a cream button up and the same coloured deep purple slacks. He must've polished his shoes, because they're shining with every flash of the changing lights.

I feel a bit dull next to him. I had a black button down tucked back in my dresser, and decent black trousers, so I somehow managed to find an outfit that makes me stand out the absolute least while simultaneously making me look like a waiter.

He doesn't look at me--or at least, I don't see him looking at me. The darkness of the room makes it difficult to see anything, and even though I can swear I feel his eyes on me, every time I look at him his eyes are forward. It's unnerving.

I can't do this cold silence of his anymore. I can't keep staring at him, hoping he'll talk. It’s driving me off the deep end.

My head lazily turns forward, focusing on the clustered dancing groups of students and their guests alike. They spin and laugh together, enjoying one of their few dances of the year.

I let myself breathe, thinking over each word before they start spilling from my lips. “You know,” I begin, steadying my attention on the elevated stage on which the DJ is set up. “I've never been to a proper dance before. Not like this.”

There it is again--the feeling of his attention on me. This time, I don't dare to check, fearing it'll drive him away. Honestly, I'm too scared to keep talking unless he does first.

The thump of the new age pop music drowns us both into a suppressed silence until he manages our a brief answer.

“Any particular reason?”

I couldn't be more relaxed by his voice.

“Well, I'd only been dating one girl through most of my teen years and into uni,” I start, pushing up my sleeves absentmindedly. “Agatha, or Aggie. I didn't have much else close friend-wise, besides her. Though, saying that out loud is a bit sad now. Anyway, the issue was, though, that she didn't like big public displays, you know?”

I dare a glance at him, and catch him staring back, eyes unwavering. It sets me off track for a second, catching the steadiness of his gaze with mine for an extended second momentarily. I turn back forward, adjusting my shoulders. “She liked the dresses and all the glitz--after all, her family is pretty damn well off--but she never liked us being us in public. Especially not school dances.

“I, on the other hand, didn't have that money. I knew I could borrow her dad's suit, and I always did for holiday events, but it made me feel too vulnerable to go out to a dance. As if everyone else knew it wasn't my jacket, because you can't hide that there. At the Christmas bullshit, you could blend me in, but in a place where everyone knew me? Felt like a joke.”

He goes silent for a long minute, head turning away from me and onto the spot I'm trained to in the crowd.

When he doesn't immediately answer, I get a bit scared, and start rambling more. “Aggie wasn't terrible. She and I just weren't right, you know? I was just with her for so long that. I don't know, I guess I wanted her to be right? I'd tried and tried towards the end, but it was dying. Or, I don't know, it'd been dead? I don't know if it was ever there. She’s just so pretty, and I thought ‘There she is. The ideal’, you know?”

“Stop rambling about your heterosexuality, Snow. It's unappealing.”

This time, I use the silence to stare at him, following the bobbing of his neck as he swallows. He stares off, seeming unaffected but shockingly harmful. I let it drop, my throat feeling tight as I watch over him.

It feels like an eternity that he just stares, spacing off into the crowd.

At first, I feel like he's going to tell me off, like he usually does. I don't know why he's so bitter--my old therapist would probably say some shit about coping, but I doubt that. Most posh boys cope over dumb shit, like daddy stealing their cigs.

He's got the look of someone with a “Woe is me” attitude. I wish I could shake it off him--jolt him into a new person.

Shaking him is wrong, though. And so is what I'm thinking, probably, but my shaking-thoughts are a solid distraction for other thoughts trying to occupy my mind. Thoughts like how the glittering lights catch the sharp greys of his eyes, or how lovely the falling shadows on his young face frame him in such a picturesque way.

He seems to have the mind of someone twenty years his senior, but the body of a man in his mid-20s. I wonder how all of his thoughts are carried--chaos of a young adult, or filed away like the proper Englishman he was seemingly raised to be.

It makes me feel sick, knowing how gorgeous he is. Unfair. It's unfair how pretty this man is. I want to clench my fists and pound them down on the table, asking why bitter people get model bodies and faces.

He's so stunning that even in the slow drop of his jaw, he remains flawless.

Wetting his lips, he goes to speak, not leaving his forward gaze. “I've never been to one either.” His voice comes out slow--rhythmic. Like a growing tune, built up from his long time's hesitation. “I wish I could say I have, but I haven't.”

“Why?” I ask a bit unnervingly quickly, studying his expression. It doesn't drop, or drag up to the usual sneer. Rather, it's keeping its stone-cold composure.

“I went to a posh all boys boarding school growing up, like this. My father sent me off to be out of his hair--happened every year since I was eleven. There was this dance for the older students that I'd dreamt of for years. The outfit, the hair, the dance, even. I thought it'd be the shining moment of my schooling. My grandiose exit, if I may.

“Except the school had different presumptions over my attendance, for when I went to buy my ticket, they stopped me and told me no same sex couples. I tried to take it up with anybody who would listen--I wasn't going with a date, after all, but with friends. Still, they stopped me from getting in. Said they had the authority to stop me, and, of course, they won. I never even got a glance in.”

I'm left in a state of shock, blinking as he nonchalantly goes over the event. Even as he finishes, adjusting the cuffs of his blazer, he seems completely unphased by it.

I now worry that his steadiness is a mask, pushing back old angers.

“I'm sorry,” I offer, wondering whether or not I'm the first person who'd ever apologized for it. “I hadn't… I'm… shit that's… I'm sorry, Basilton--”

His hand raises to stop me, and I get a good look at it. He's wearing a thick silver band around his middle finger, and a tinier silver band around his pinkie. Not a usual look for him, but it definitely suits him. Makes him more dramatic than usual.

His palm dances pink in the light, falling into the harsh shadow we're contrasted in. Somehow, it all feels grey.

He doesn't say another word. Just stops me and stares off, mind miles away from us. He has to be a borderline genius somewhere in there, given the sharp tongue, but the question as to where is relevant. Where is he when he doesn’t speak?

Not here, apparently. I wonder if, perhaps, it's out on the dance floor with all the students. It's swaying and laughing--having the time of its life. Just far away from us here.

I hold my hand back, only reaching between us to occasionally grab a handful of pretzels on occasion. He seemingly doesn't take notice, spacing off and staring out into the crowd.

Once the event wraps up and the students clear out, we both quietly thank the custodians before starting the walk back to the dorms. It isn't a long walk, and thankfully the sidewalk is relatively wide--just wide enough that we have a foot in distance between us. It's not a bad night. There’s the dullest shine on the pavement, remnants of the day's long rain. In fact, everything's got that early-fall coating. Even the air has a crispness to it, despite the waterlogged piles of decaying leaves.

I try to look at him, hoping he's enjoying the moment as well, but he's still flattened in expression. Cold. Still.

Even as I unlock the front door, struggling slightly with the keys (and the old, fussy locks), he's completely blank. All except for the seemingly natural downturn of his lips.

He steps in before me, and I pause, watching him walk halfway into the living room before clearing my throat. “Hey, uh,” I start, fiddling with the keys in my hand. He stops, too, and turns on his heel. He's got a good few inches to stare down from, but I'm not afraid to look up to speak. Not after what he said earlier.

“I'm really sorry you never had the opportunity to go to a dance. I sound like a bit of a dick, since I just didn't take my open chance to. You… you should've been able to. I'm sorry.”

He stares down at me for what feels like a minute, eyes traveling in the slightest as he takes his time, looking over me. Looking into me, it feels. I'm trying to be vulnerable, goddammit, and it's like he's just waiting for me to add more.

I might as well ended with calling him a cock, because that's normal. That's what we've become. A bitter spat--a back and forth. Like the shittiest married couple on the face of the earth.

I worry I may've spooked him now, since his face contorts to its usual mockery, going for the low blow. He's all set up for it now--a dark flat, the only light coming from the window and the open door. It's like his cave built to fucking haunt me.

He sort if looks like a vampire. Creature of the night bullshit, and all. Maybe I'll call him Dracula--or Vlad the Impaler (is that homophobic? I don't think so--I don't know? Anyone can impale. That’s equality.)

His hair falls into his face as he stands more upright, adjusting his jacket. You'd think it makes him more human, but it makes him look darker--brooding. Helps with the vampy aesthetic.

His lips part, and I brace for impact before he melts down slightly, shoulders slumping as he exhales. Part of me wonders if he's about to throw my for a loop, until he starts speaking softer than he ever has before. “You should have gotten a chance to have your dance, too.”

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Love Is Alive Jim Mason x Reader 2/?

A/N: Hell I actually suprised myself on how this chapter turned out! Let me know what you guys think I would definitely love feedback fram ya all!

When I was a little girl, Miss Alexander would always tell me to not be afraid to fall in love one day when I grow up. Sounds weird, huh? But no. That's what I thought at first, but I was wrong. Those words have stuck to me for as long as I can remember. To fall in love. Hmm, sounds like every little girl's dream, huh? To meet her prince, and to ride off into the sunset on a white horse. Yeah, while most little girls would dream about that, mine was different. But it's been years since Miss Alexander said those words to me. But I still take these words to heart. Those words have got me to where I am now. And let me tell you, it may not be what you think. It could be, but who knows?

I didn't realize how much it could affect my life until I truly set out for reality.

Flashback…

"One day, when you meet a boy that you like, take the chance. If he's the right one for you, and if you're the right one for him, don't let that chance slip away. There are only so many boys in the world, but only one that is perfect for you. There is a boy out there perfect for everyone. But one of the keys to having a good life, is a good relationship." Said Miss Alexander.

I raised my eyebrows. So, this was coming from a lady who isn't married. Hmm, interesting.

Miss Alexander continued in a soft voice. "So, Y/N. Just don't be afraid to fall in love."

I continued to stare at my reflection in the mirror. Millions of questions ran through my head. Who was this girl? Who is this girl that I'm staring at? This isn't me. I don't recognize myself anymore. Why am I suddenly feeling all these feelings wash over me? Who am I now? Why is my heart still thumping with an intensity? What was going on? What is wrong with me? Why am I feeling like this? Why am I suddenly feeling… like I have fallen in love?

I shook my head granted some years had passed since I had Jim Mason but it seemed as if out of nowhere all these feelings rushed up out of nowhere. It had barely been 24 hours since our encounter at The Stage On Broadway and here I was feeling like a giddy teenager.

I stared at my face in the mirror. I could still feel the heat on my cheeks. And I could see it too. It was a rosy shade of pink - a shade that meant only one thing.

Even I couldn't answer my own questions. I had theories, but I just can't accept them...

When people start feeling like this, it's a sign that they're falling in love. But no. I am not falling in love. I can't. I just can't…

'Don't be afraid to fall in love'

The words never left my thoughts. Never. I am not sure if Miss Alexander had her own personal meaning to it when she explained it to me 10 years ago. I just couldn't understand what the words meant. 'Don't be afraid...' Afraid? Afraid of what? Afraid of other people knowing? Afraid that someone will get hurt? I always told myself that falling in love is the last thing you wanna do. But now, I just can't listen to myself anymore.

I think, for the most part, I have fallen in love. But I just can't tell people yet. Things like this are made to be shared when you are 100% about it. I knew I was 100% sure of my feelings, but I just didn't have the guts to spill it out.

My thoughts were interrupted by my phone ringing, I didn't recognize the number but had this gut feeling I needed to answer. “Hello?” I then heard his warm familiar voice on the other end. “Hi Y/N I wanted to let you know it was good seeing you last night you looked great.” I felt my face run flush, how had Jim managed to get my number? “Thanks, it was good to see you too.” I replied sheepishly. “I umm wanted to ask you….” Jim hesitated for a moment to form his thoughts “If you would like to meet for coffee maybe?” Wait Jim Mason was asking me out on a date? “Sure I would love to.” I responded a lot calmer than what I actually felt. “Meet me at the east side coffee shop say 7pm?” “See you then” after a few more brief words we hung up, I couldn't help the almost ridiculous smile that graced my features it felt so surreal.

I never knew love could feel this way. But what do I know, this is the first time ever that I have fallen for someone. And it just so happens to be Jim Mason. But after replaying the words over and over in my mind, it was easier to accept than ever before.

You love him, Y/N. You know you do.

NO. I tried to get rid of those thoughts because I knew it was right. I just didn't know how to run away from them. I was thinking about how stupid I was for thinking that I was in love with him, but then I knew I wasn't stupid because I do love him, but I don't know what to do...I don't know if I can do anything...

I don't want to love him.

I want to love him.

I can't love him.

I do love him...

'Don't be afraid to fall in love'

I am not afraid, but should I be?

I'm not afraid of falling in love, but I am afraid of giving my heart away, and getting hurt. But what use will that do?

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

Jim and I sat across from one another in the cozy warmth of the coffee shop. I wanted to speak up but my mind was running a million miles a minute. I felt him reach for my hand, somehow I felt so secure... his touch so warm so gentle.

“Y/N, I-I like you. I like you a lot.  You're such a sweet person, and such a good friend." He inhaled deeply. "S-So what I'm trying to say is..." Jim trailed off, struggling to find words.

I looked at him, nervously, hoping that what I thought was about to happen, was really and truly happening.

He sighed to himself and looked at me. "I'm falling for you.

I stared at him, as millions of thoughts and emotions ran through me. I felt my heart pound, making my ear drums shake. My mouth felt so dry, and my fingers were trembling. I began to get all uptight and self conscious. Did Jim Mason just say what I thought he said?

The insides of my body were twisting and turning. I was a nervous wreck.

"I hope this doesn't put a hold on our friendship." He said after a moment of silence, then he sighed and looked at me. "But Y/N, I really am falling for you."

I love you

When those 3 words finally came out, it was as if 20 pounds were lifted off my shoulders. After all that time, I finally said it. After all these years Jim Mason finally knew I do in fact love him.

He continued to look into my eyes. And before I knew it, the space between our faces was getting smaller. Jim was leaning into me, his face was coming closer to mine by millimeters. I felt my breathing come to a stop, but I didn't back away. I knew what was happening, but I didn't close my eyes. I stared into his blue eyes as he became closer to me. As each second went by, our faces became nearer and nearer to each other, our noses, our lips...

He was about to kiss me.

“Jim..." I whispered weakly, but I could feel the eagerness rise up within me.

Our lips were coming closer…

He bent down, his lips against her cheek, brushing it lightly—and still that light touch sent shivers through her nerves, shivers that made her whole body tremble. "If you want me to stop, tell me now," he whispered. When she still said nothing, he brushed his mouth against the hollow of her temple. "Or now." He traced the line of her cheekbone. "Or now." His lips were against hers.

"Or—"

But she had reached up and pulled him down to her, and the rest of his words were lost against her mouth. He kissed her gently, carefully, but it wasn’t gentleness she wanted, not now, not after all this time, and she knotted her fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against her.

When he finally kisses my mouth again, everything goes oddly quiet, like the moment of silence between lightning and thunder. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Four Mississippi. Five Mississippi.

Bang.

We kiss again. The next kiss is the kind that breaks open the sky. It steals my breath and gives it back. It shows me that every other kiss I’ve had in my life has been wrong.

I’ve had a taste and realize I’ll never have enough. He’s everywhere up my back and over my arms and suddenly he’s kissing me harder, deeper, with a fervent urgent need I’ve never known before.

Chapter 1...

Credit to owner of gif

@michael-langdon-appreciation

[ohparis]

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing(s): Dean Winchester/Castiel, Dean Winchester/Original Female Character

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Original Female Character

Rating: T

Tags: Angst and Feels, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Summary: Dean finds him in her eyes and smile and laugh, even in her name; and he can't fucking bring himself to let that go.

ao3

He meets her on a June afternoon, the sun so fucking bright it hurts his eyes.

And it’s not that- he just can’t help himself, he really fucking can’t.

Never stood a chance, with eyes like that.

Her dog runs him over, that’s how it happens, and she apologizes and tilts her head and he just, he needs to get out, out, out of here because he can’t breathe, and his eyes sting and he knows, it’s not the light.

He excuses himself, pats the mutt on the head and flees.

-

When he gets home, it’s a whirlwind of bourbon and cheap whiskey.

Sam finds him passed out on the couch, glass shattered on the floor and against his hand, maybe yells at him, but he doesn’t really remember much.

On their way to the hospital, Sam is silent, gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles may have turned purple, and he doesn’t look at Dean, spread out on the backseat, murmuring incoherently.

He wants to explain himself, say he’s sorry Sammy is stuck with this mess, but instead just mutters that he needs more time.

“One minute, Sammy, just one.”

Sam doesn’t answer, stares at the road.

“Just to say goodbye. Tell him, just once”

And he can hear his brother sigh, then, shoulder slumped and eyes closed, and maybe he speaks, this time, but how would he know; by the time they arrive at the emergency room, he’s unconscious again.

When they discharge him, when he’s back in baby, her leather stained with blood, Sam looks tired and stressed and so worried.

He says, “You need to stop this. Please.”

Dean looks down, asks for the keys. Sam doesn’t let him drive.

-

They bump into each other again at the grocery store, and this time she doesn't let him run away.

"We met at the park, the other day, I'm Cassandra."

Because of course she is, and Dean wants to tell her to get lost, that he doesn't really care, hasn't been able to for a while now, but piercing blue eyes are staring back at him for the first time in so very long.

He's only human, he tells himself, can only fight with himself for so long- and it's only coffee.

Only coffee turns into a movie and that turns into dinner and he can't really say how the hell he got himself in this situation but here he is.

And this girl is wonderful, looks at him amused but doesn't really mind that she's the one doing all the talking.

She has a pretty voice, some pretty interesting stories to tell.

A beautiful smile.

Christ, he's such an asshole.

When they say their goodbyes, he closes his eyes, says: "Goodnight, Cas", and it's been so long.

Fuck.

So long, and his eyes are closed and it's almost real, almost alright.

They make plans for the weekend.

-

When he goes to bed, that night, he opens the drawer where he hides his secret stack of liquor and it’s empty.

Sam must have gotten rid of all the alcohol in the bunker, he supposes.

It’s fine, he tells himself as he lays on the bed, scrolls through his phone looking for pictures that are not there, cause if he can’t drown himself in booze, he can do it in sorrow instead; but there’s nothing tangible, here, no homevideos or polaroids, anything he has left is in a box under his bed.

The coat, the tie, a cassette; but that, he won’t touch.

He searches through his contacts instead, dials the number he refuses to deactivate.

“This is Castiel...”

He falls against the pillows with a loud thump, phone tucked against his neck-

“...make your voice, a mail.”

-and cries himself to sleep.

-

“I used to be a pilot, you know.”

And, you have got to be fucking kidding me.

He tells her that.

She just laughs against her ice cream.

“I swear, is that so hard to believe?”

He sobers up, offers a tissue for the cream dribbling on her chin.

“No it’s just, I was friends with a pilot. Sort of.”

“You sort of were friends or they sort of were a pilot?”

He gives her a smile that’s barely there.

“Both.”

“Well, that’s something.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just,” she says “I don’t know anything about you.”

Dean hums, keeps strolling through the park.

“You know what my favorite ice cream flavor is.”

Cassandra rolls her eyes, playful; she chuckles, her nose scrunches up when she does so.

He’s not an idiot, he knows he’s not imagining things, connecting dots and finding similarities that are not there, that he would find suspicious, was he not so desperate for something, anything to cling to.

“I have a brother.”

She looks at him encouragingly.

“His name is Sam. We’re really close.”

“Does he live here too?”

Dean nods.

“And the rest of your family?”

There’s a park bench behind them, a playground.

Dean closes his eyes against the staining sunlight.

“He’s the rest of my family.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out harsh, but it does.

Cassandra doesn’t pry.

“What about you?” he asks.

“I’ve got a bunch of siblings I’m not really close with, and an older sister who’s like a mother, father and hippie aunt all in one package.”

He smiles at that.

“Must be fun.”

She shrugs, “She’s family.”

-

When Sam finds out he’s seeing someone, he starts asking questions a thousand miles a minute, looks so excited Dean fears he might actually pee himself.

The thing is, he doesn’t really want to answer, doesn’t know how to be truthful and avoid Sam seeing through his bullshit at the same time, so he downplays it.

“Sammy, don’t take this the wrong way, it’s just… I wanna take this slow, be quiet about it.”

And of course, Sam takes that to heart, ensures him they’re going to do just that, that he’s going to encourage it, whatever it is.

“It’s, I mean, this is really good. I’m happy for you. This is good.”

And he looks so goddamn relieved, Dean just wants to cry and scream and drink and cry again.

He tells Sam he’s gonna need the Impala to take her out, and for the first time in weeks, he sits in baby again, drives to town.

He buys a bottle of scotch, downs it sitting on the ground next to the car, and waits for the sun to go down.

Then, he prays.

He prays to stardust and dirt and lighting and everything that Castiel used to be.

He sobs, says “I hate you so fucking much,” and “Why won’t you return to me?”

He falls asleep in baby’s backseat, curled up on himself; when he gets home, in the morning, Sam smiles at him.

-

Cassandra works at the library, volunteers every other weekend to read to the kids, then talks about it with Dean when they go out for coffee on Sundays.

He brings a book with her, once, opens it when they’re lying on a worn sheet in the park.

She thumbs the pictures, explains the story, starts reading bits and pieces of it in between plot points.

“You - you alone will have the stars as no one else has them...” she recites, “...In one of the stars, I shall be living. In one of them, I shall be laughing.”

Dean rests his head on hers, closes his eyes.

“And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night...You - only you - will have stars that can laugh.”

A beat.

“Do you like it?”

He drops a kiss against her hair, “It’s beautiful, Cas.”

She tilts her head, then, kisses him, soft and tender, on the lips.

Dean holds back the tears.

-

He calls him, that night.

The voice on the other end of the line is colder than the metal against his cheek.

“This number has been deactivated, if you...”

The box under his bed lies untouched.

-

Sam runs into them as they’re about to enter a Soap Shop Cassandra likes, greets them with barely feigned surprise and excitement, a grin the size of Texas.

“I’m Sam, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, I’ve heard so much. I’m Cassandra.”

“Oh”, says Sam.

And Dean tries to make himself smaller,

“Or Cassie, if you want,”

and smaller,

“or Cas, but only Dean has ever called me that”

and smaller.

He can see it unravel on Sam’s face, as he begins to take in her hair, and her eyes and the shape of her mouth, just like Dean has.

His expression flickers momentarily, in anger or disappointment or pity or all of them.

He schools it almost immediately.

“Well, it was a pleasure, I gotta go now.”

They start to go their ways, when “Dean, I’ll see you at home?”

He can only nod.

-

Of all the things he expects to find when he gets back, booze definitely isn’t one of them.

“It’s not for you,” Sam says.

“I figured.”

A beat.

“Look, I’m-”

“Yeah, you’re sorry. Good, you’d better be.”

Another one.

“Tell me at least you’re not fucking her.”

At that, Dean recoils.

“I’m not that much of an asshole. I wouldn’t use her like that.”

Sam nods.

“She seems great.”

“She is.”

“You should break up with her.”

“I know.”

“But first...”

And he’s holding it out, the box, he’s opening and taking the tie and coat, leaves the mixtape alone.

“...First, we say goodbye.”

And the booze, the coat, and in his pocket, a fucking lighter.

“No,” he says, furious, “No way, Sam, no fucking way,”

“Dean...”

“Give that back.”

“Hear me out, Dean-”

“Give it back or I fucking swear, Sam.”

“Why are you keeping them?”

“It’s called fucking mourning, am I not allowed?”

“Except that’s not it.”

And the thing is, he’s right. Because there’s a reason he won’t touch them, there’s a reason he chose to keep them.

“It’s not,” Sam sighs, passes a hand through his hair, on his face, rubs at grim filled eyes, “He’s not coming back.”

Dean takes it, then, grips it tight, looks at Sam, is suddenly so, so much younger: “Why?”

And Sam is shaking his head, taking him by the shoulders and pulling him in.

-

He says goodbye to Cassandra the following afternoon.

A few hours after, the coat is burning in a pile of leaves and wood on the ground.

The wind blows.

The stars are getting there.

As the sun sets, he says “I love you”, like it’s not the first time.