#but sam is describing a young kid's face and says it was a 'face in need of a hankerchief with a mother's spit on it'

[guttersniper]

@quantumleapt​ said: [ clean ] Al being an Italian grandparent and wiping a smudge off of Mutt's cheek...

nonsexual acts.

when he turns, the furrow in his brow is so much an echo of sam, some stranger might think they really were of shared blood. he’s always been like that. picking up every little thing he notices about the people around them, many times without even fully realizing it. 

the quick upward jerk of his chin works as a replacement for words in acknowledgement of hearing his name, a sort of silent go on. al doesn’t look like he’s up to anything (mutt’s learned the signs), nor does he seem to be upset or hurt or uncomfortable (he’s learned those, too). he’s seconds away from opening his mouth to prompt him, maybe he forgot what he was going to say, but he swallows that when he notices al’s looking at him odd. 

instead: “ -- got something on my face? “ as a matter of fact, he does. a vague sniff, and a hand rose to scratch at the dirt-laden spot on his cheek. he goes entirely still when al approaches, and doesn’t even move a muscle -- it seems he’s even stopped breathing -- when he sees him lick his thumb, and put his unused hand on his shoulder to hold him steady. he stares, unblinking, following the finger as if he were in a doctor’s office and being asked to.

“ christ. “ mutt grunts, squirming away from the impromptu washcloth made of spit and the pad of his thumb. something adjacent to a smile kicks up one corner of his mouth. “ you’re gross. “ it’s teasing, and anybody who knows mutt and the things he’s been through knows not much manages to gross him out. he tugs the too-long length of his sleeve over his fingers, and rubs at the spot until he’s certain he got the worst of it. he never thought he’d one day spend more time properly clean than dirty, but. here he was. “ there. better? “

[jazzyoranges]

Sam carpenter x reader with the song birds of a feather by Billie eilish maybe friends to lovers

Birds of a Feather

Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you and Sam are best friends. until you aren’t

Words: 8k

A/n: ok we kinda went off script with this one but i’d describe this as friends to lovers with a few bumps. is friends to not friends to lovers a trope?

A/n 2: i have something to confess. i’ve never seen scream 5. that might be very evident in this

Warnings: intoxication, usage of drugs, Richie Kirsch, Sam deals with some hard shit, crying, ghostface aftermath, not a warning but Tara is a cutie, mention of a dead parent, maybe ooc sam cause i’ve never written for her and probably should’ve made a less lengthy fic so i could get a feel for her character but wtv 🤷‍♀️

“Hey- What the heck! What was that for, Sam!?” The young boy yells when Sam pushes him off the swing

“You jerk broke my friend’s crayons. She really liked them!” Sam points a finger at the boy, who’s now dusting himself off

“Yeah? What’re you going to do about it?” He smiles a wicked grin. At least, what would be considered wicked in kindergarten

“I’ll never let you on the swings again!”

“I don’t see your name written on it!”

“That’s cause you’re stupid and can’t read!”

Tears well up in the young boys eyes. He blinks them away, running to tell on the teacher him and Sam share. Sam didn’t care, he deserved the insults anyways

“Sammy? What did you do to Carlos?” You run up to Sam, who’s glaring at the back of Carlos’ head from her seat on the swing

“I pushed him. He broke the crayons your dad gave you!” The Carpenter pulls you into a hug, not wanting to let go

“I know he did Sammy, but it’s not nice to push people” You reciprocate the hug, pulling back a bit to see Sam’s face and how her forehead was wrinkled with her eyebrows furrowed. You thought she was cute like one of your stuffed animals

“It’s not nice to break something that doesn’t belong to you! I did it because he was mean to you”

“You’re going to get in trouble! Mrs. Poppy doesn’t know you were trying to protect me”

“Then I’ll tell her, and Carlos will get in trouble too”

“Samantha Carpenter.” Your teacher’s voice was stern. Nothing like the sweet teacher you were used to. You backed away from Sam’s hug but you don’t go far. You hold her tiny hand with your own and make sure to stay close, rubbing her hand in hopes of comfort

“Is it true you pushed Carlos off the swings and said some mean things?”

“Yeah, but he was being mean to (Y/n) first! He broke her new crayons her dad got her! Mrs. Poppy, (Y/n) was really sad” Your dad couldn’t get you many new things due to being a single father. Especially new school supplies. Usually you’d reuse the crayons you didn’t lose or break from previous years or borrow some of Sam’s

On most days you took the bus home with Sam while your dad was off working his ass off to get you dinner every night. Your dad and Sam’s dad were good friends so Mr and Mrs. Carpenter didn’t mind taking care of you until your dad was able to pick you up from their house. Luckily you two lived in the same neighborhood. Some days you thought all of the stars aligned for you and Sam to be friends

“Is this true?” Your teacher shoots a look at the boy next to her. While your teacher was the nicest woman you ever met, she had a deadly glare. You were happy you weren’t on the receiving end of that stare

“N-No…”

“Carlos if I find out you’re lying, you’re going to be sharing the same punishment as Sam.” Mrs. Poppy seems to calm down a bit, entering her nice teacher mode once again

“F-Fine! I did break her crayons” Carlos pouts, crossing his arms

“Thank you for telling the truth, but what you did was wrong. You also did something wrong, Sam. Instead of pushing Carlos off the swing, you could’ve told me and I would have taken care of it” Your teacher bends down to look at the two kids in the eyes

“Sorry, Mrs. Poppy” Sam and Carlos say in unison

“Thank you, you two. I know you two are good kids and know what’s right”

Your teacher leaves with Carlos next to her and you can hear her faintly ask why the boy broke your crayons in the first place

“I like having you as a friend, Sammy” You hug the girl, who’s long since stopped swinging

“I like having you as a friend too, (Y/n)!” Sam beams. Her smile was one of your favorite things ever

“Can we play house?”

“Yeah! I’ll bring my bear next time so she can be our baby!”

//-//

“I can’t believe you can name your sister!” You were over at Sam’s house a few months after her baby sister was born. You didn’t know what to call Sam’s little sister considering… she didn’t really have a name. It was up to Sam to pick a name but of course she was a Carpenter, wanting the best name for her sister. As a result, her baby sister had no name

Until today, that is. Sam was finally making a decision today

“I don’t know what her name is going to be yet” Sam reaches out a finger to her baby sister who happily grabs onto it with curiosity

“She likes you a lot, huh?”

“She knows I’m her sister”

“Maybe I could help you come up with a name! What’s your favorite letter?”

“I like the first letter of your name but I don’t want it to be that! I need to think of something different”

“I know you’ll think of a wonderful name, darling.” Sam’s mom strokes her on the head as she rocks the small baby in her arms

“Do you have another favorite letter?” You ask

“Uh… I like T?”

“What about Triceratops!” You giggle

“Her name can’t be Triceratops, silly!” Sam smiles

“Tennis?”

“(Y/n), those aren’t names” The now older Carpenter giggles along with you

“What about Taylor? Oh! There’s a girl in our class named Thalia?”

“I want it to be different, though! I like those names but Tara needs to be special.” Sam’s eyes go wide in surprise. Maybe her brain just knew her baby sister was supposed to be named Tara

“Tara?” You repeat. “That’s a pretty name! Hi little Tara!” You wave at the baby in her mom’s arms

“Is this official? Is Tara your choice, Sam?”

“Yeah! Tara is a nice name. She looks like her name would be Tara”

“She does, doesn’t she? Such a pretty name you chose, Sam. Honey, come here! We have our daughter’s name!” Mrs. Carpenter yells for her husband

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Sam smile so wide before

//-//

“Hey, Sam?”

“What’s up?”

“Aren’t you scared of middle school?“

“No, why would I be? Middle school should be scared of me” That was your Sam alright. The most fearless person you knew. As far as you knew, she was scared of absolutely nothing. Not even the dark. Which is why you were reluctant to stay outside on your trampoline after sunset. Which is also why you were curled next to Sam as she pointed out all the different stars

“What if we stop being friends?”

“Don’t be stupid, (Y/n)” The Carpenter pinches your cheek and you yelp while giggling, shoving her hand away

“If we stop being friends, which we won’t, I promise I’ll let you have all of my stuffed animals”

“Woah, really?”

“Yes, really

“Every single one of them?”

“Yes, every single one of them” Sam rolls her eyes

“Even Ghostie?” Ghostie was the panda stuffed animal you got Sam for her eighth birthday. Technically your dad bought it for her but you picked it out

“What! You’re not supposed to take a gift back, I like Ghostie”

“Well, you can give me all of your stuffed animals and I’ll just give Ghostie back to you”

“That makes no sense, why wouldn’t you just let me keep it?”

“Cause then you wouldn’t have given me all of your stuffed animals and kept your promise”

“You’re weird, (Y/n)”

“Hey, so are you! That’s why we’re friends”

“Yeah, I guess so” Sam giggles

The sliding door to your house opens and both you and Sam turn to look who’s there. It’s your dad

“Hey, girls! Sam, your parents are leaving now. Best you go with them, eh?”

“Okay! Thank you, Mr. (Y/l/n)” The Carpenter waves to your dad

“Wait, let me go with you inside! It’s scary out here”

//-//

“Sam! What if we get caught out here?” Your words held concern but you couldn’t stop laughing as Sam dragged you under the bleachers

“Shhh! They’re gonna catch us!” The Carpenter put a hand over your mouth and put one over hers so she’d also stop laughing when both of you sat down on the underside of the bleachers where the grass was

Both you and Sam were currently in seventh grade but there was an eighth grade couple that was constantly terrorizing the younger kids. Sam being Sam, she wanted to end their reign.

How did she want to end their reign? By breaking the two up. Sam slipped a note in both of their lockers about meeting to break up during one of their classes, causing both of them to skip. Your job was to lead a teacher to their meetup and if everything went right, then they would be successfully broken up and in detention.

Both of you hear footsteps and see the couple at the meetup spot. The teacher wasn’t far away, all you had to do was rile him up a little and run away. Did you feel a little bad? Maybe. But in your defense the couple was always making out in the hallways and made everyone passing by uncomfortable. For gods sake, it was middle school! Not high school

You and Sam were far enough away you couldn’t hear them but their body language was enough for the both of you to understand. Your plan was going perfectly. You and Sam were more the vigilante type, not the heroes or the villains

The couple exchanged pointed looks and flailing arms, hopefully arguing about the note. You and Sam wrote… not the nicest things in there

The teacher eventually arrives out of breath but the couple is too busy yelling each other to notice how he’s standing over them. He looks to clear his throat and to their horror, they stop fighting. Success!

“Yes! We did it!” Sam says a little too loudly from the position you two were in. Their heads turn in your direction and you know you’re caught when the teacher stars walking towards you two

“Hey! What’re you two doing there under the bleachers?” His ragged voice yells

Shit.

//-//

“Sam? What’s wrong?” You run to the Carpenter, who’s outside under a tree eating her lunch. Usually she’d wait for you but today seemed different

“Get away from me, (Y/n).”

“Sam, don’t be like that. You know me, you can tell me what’s wrong.” You and Sam didn’t share too many classes in eighth grade. Even then, your friendship still didn’t seem to falter. You’d still hang out after school and help each other study. Sam lashing out at you was never really a problem you two had

“No! You don’t know anything.” Sam shoves you away when you try to put your hand on her shoulder. “You’re useless.”

“Sam, you don’t mean that. Please just tell me what’s wrong?”

“You wouldn’t understand. You don’t understand anything.”

“Yes I do! We always talk to each other, Sammy. Even if I’m not going to understand, I can still listen”

“Don’t say that stupid name.”

“I thought you liked Sammy?”

“See, that’s the thing with you! You’re always so stuck in the past. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“You’re not being very nice right now”

“Yeah? Well you can deal with it.” The last thing you expect Sam to do is push you onto the ground into a patch of dirt.

“We’re done. I’m not your friend anymore.”

“Sam- we can talk about this” Tears pool in your eyes. You try to get up but all that happens is a crawl

“We can’t. You’re weak and pathetic and can’t do anything without me.”

Sam doesn’t look back when you say her name through tears. Sam doesn’t look back when she hears a few laughs and whispers directed at you. Sam doesn’t look back.

//-//

“Heyyyyy (Y/n)!” Sam’s voice slurs over the phone. It was almost one in the morning, what the hell was this girl doing? Not to mention this is the first time she’s even talked to you since middle school. And yet, you still answered without hesitation. Damn you really needed to grow a backbone

“Sam? What’s going on?”

“Nothingggggg whut’re y’doin?”

“I was trying to go to sleep then you called me. Where are you?”

“Why’d y’wanna know? You’re not my momma!”

“Are you drunk? Sam, you’re underage!”

“No fun… I’m wif my friends! We at a partayyy!”

“Whose house are you at?” Grabbing your keys, you race to the door. Your dad was asleep and you only had your learners permit but you couldn’t just hang up on your Sam like that.

“Uh… Tristan? He’s in our uh… what class is he in?”

“Math. Tristan from math, got it” You knew where he lived. You tutored the guy as requested by his parents but he paid you more money to stop coming to his house than his parents did for your tutoring business. How could you say no to free money?

Thankfully he wasn’t far. Thank god for that, you weren’t one to drive at night

You go faster than you hope but luckily you don’t get pulled over. You really didn’t want to go to overnight jail and face your dad the next morning but surely he would understand the circumstances you were in. He knew you, he knew Sam, he knew the devotion.

At least that’s what you told yourself on the way to Tristan’s house

You could hear the house blasting bad music from about four blocks away. It was a wonder how the police hadn’t shown up yet. Unless he paid off them too. You wouldn’t put it past the guy

Were you invited? No. But in all the movies you’ve watched - said movies being Mean Girls - random people just showed up and nobody cared enough to kick them out. So you walked up to the door like you were invited and instantly started looking for Sam

The music was so loud you could feel it in your lungs and couldn’t hear your thoughts. You couldn’t imagine this was the scene Sam was willing to put herself in but then again you hadn’t talked to her in years. Maybe under all those layers she was a party animal at heart

You internally laugh at the thought. Like hell Sam’s actually a party animal

After a bit you find Sam snorting some drug that probably shared the name with a sexually transmitted disease. Grabbing the sleeve of her shirt, you drag her out of the house while her friends groan and call you a party pooper.

“Hey! Wh- what’s wrong wif you!?”

“We’re going home, Sam. I’m taking you home”

“No! T-Tara can’t see me. Wanna go somewhere else…” Sam struggles against your grip. She’s always been stronger than you but in her intoxicated state you could probably carry her like a sack of potatoes if you tried hard enough

“Fine, I’ll take you to my house. You can spend the night”

“Noooo, wanna party…”

“We’re going home, Sam.”

In all of your years of friendship with Sam, she’s never seen you so stern before. The Carpenter keeps her mouth shut for the rest of the car ride.

After lots of trial and error, you eventually get Sam out of your car and into your bedroom with much difficulty. Thankfully your dad was the heaviest sleeper you knew. You search for a shirt and shorts that fit Sam, ignoring her protests of not wanting to sleep

Against your better judgment, you now have your intoxicated ex-best friend in your bed as her sobriety was nowhere to be found

“Why did you call me, Sam? Even in your state I know you couldn’t do that on accident”

“Ugh, friends made me. Wan’ me t’call my first crush”

“What?” You’re taken aback. Did you hear her correctly?

“Tired… m’sleepy”

You sigh, bringing your hand to Sam’s face to stroke her cheek. Your heart breaks when the older Carpenter leans into your hand like a touch starved cat. You wished things would go back to normal but Sam was stubborn. She wouldn’t let you in no matter how many times you tried.

“Go to sleep, Sam. I hope I’ll see you in the morning” You’re only met with small snores

You wanted to hate Sam. You wanted to hate Sam with all your heart for pushing you away and not even looking at her sister anymore

You wanted to hate Samantha Carpenter so badly but you couldn’t

//-//

It’s nine thirty in the morning when you hear a knock at your door. It was a Saturday. Who the hell was up this early? Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and attempting to smooth out your hair with your hands, you begrudgingly walk downstairs to the door. Your dad was at work already and usually you weren’t up at this hour

Looking through the peephole, you don’t expect to see Tara Carpenter in tears at your door.

“Hey what happened, sweetheart?” You bend down to meet Tara’s eyes. They were red and puffy, evidently showing she was crying a lot. And a lot before she got to you

“S-Sam, she-“ Your heart broke when Tara couldn’t let out even a few words without hiccuping and sniffling

“You can tell me later, darling. How about we drink some juice and you can tell me what’s happening, yeah?”

“No! S-Sam’s…” There seemed to be a never ending amount of tears flowing. “She’s gone, (Y/n). She’s gone and she’s gone for good.” Tara runs into your arms, staining your shirt with her tears.

“What do you mean, baby?”

“M-Mom said Sam left a-and isn’t coming back…” Your heart breaks when Tara’s breathing gets quicker and isn’t able to catch her breath

You pick up the younger Carpenter, taking her to your couch. Tara’s on your lap and you’re holding her just like her mom probably did when she was born. It was something your dad always did, even when you got older. Sometimes people just needed to be babied no matter how old they were.

So you start rocking Tara. She’s holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping her alive and you move her ear to your heart. Placing her head under your chin, you hum a tune that was familiar to you. A lullaby your mom always sung to you before she died

You kiss Tara’s forehead with tears in your eyes. You saw how Sam changed and you couldn’t help her. You knew this day was going to come and you couldn’t stop it. But how could you?

When Sam looked at you with such hatred and anger, you’d wonder if she was still the same Sam that pushed Carlos because he broke your new crayons. When you saw her high out of her mind with people that didn’t care about her, you’d wonder if she was the same Sam that watched the stars with you on your trampoline. When you looked at Sam all you could see was what you two were. Was your Sam even still in there there?

You felt disgusted with yourself. You could’ve done something and yet you did nothing.

You’d never see best friend again and Tara would only remember her sister as hateful and unloving. Memories of Sam would go sour until you only had Tara and Tara only had you as a reminder of who Sam used to be.

When the younger Carpenter sees you also crying, she somehow manages to hug you tighter than she already has. What a lovely girl Tara was.

“A-Are you okay, (Y/n)?” The brunette says in a small voice

“Can I be honest with you, Tara?” You earn a nod from the small girl

“No. I’m not okay. But you know what? I’ve got you and you got me. Thank you for telling me.”

“(Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Mom says she isn’t coming back. Sam didn’t talk to me a lot but I miss her.”

“You’ve got such a big heart, Tara. Did you know that? Please don’t ever lose it for me.”

“Will Sam come back?”

Your breath hitches and for a second you’re left without words in your throat and without knowledge about the future.

“Yes… she’ll come back. Sam just doesn’t know it yet.”

Tara’s mom comes storming in a second later with an out of breath angry expression that slowly softens when she sees how her daughter is nestled in your arms

“Tara, you can’t just run away like that. You made me so scared, you know I can’t run as fast as you” Her mom presses a kiss to her forehead

“I had to tell (Y/n), Mom! She’s Sam’s best friend and she deserved to know”

Her mom brought a hand to Tara’s face to wipe a few stray tears. With her other, she placed on your shoulder with a small nod. Sam was gone. She was gone for good.

//-//

Sam spends her first night away from home in her car in a neighborhood she didn’t recognize. The first night Sam leaves, she holds Ghostie in her arms and hopes it’s enough to keep her safe.

//-//

“You’re hiding something”

“What?” You and Tara always hung out ever since Sam left. Her mom hasn’t been the same since her husband walked out. You offered to be one of Tara’s caretakers to help her mom with the load of being a single mother without Sam or her husband’s support

Your dad wasn’t home very often but every now and again he’d give you random tips on how to raise a teenager. At least, tips he used when he raised you. At first he was skeptical of you taking on the role of caretaker at such a young age but when you employed Tara to use her puppy eyes, it was a losing battle for him.

So Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, Tara was all yours. You’ve been doing this since you turned eighteen and could confidently drive without being nervous at all. Also mostly because you couldn’t be her guardian in the eyes of the law under eighteen

There was a void in Tara’s heart and while you couldn’t fully replace her sister, the least you could do was be there. Which is how you knew something was up when she started picking at one of the things she loved so dearly. Your cooking.

“I know you’re hiding something, squirt”

“You’re crazy, I’m not hiding anything” Tara scoffs

“Hey, I’m not decades older than you. I know when you’re lying” You hated pulling the ‘I used to be your age’ card but now you’re realizing how effective it is when you’re only six or seven years older than Tara

Tara throws her head back, groaning in what seems to be frustration and covering her face. You can’t hold back your snicker. The younger Carpenter was always one for theatrics

“You don’t have to tell me but I could really help you, you know? With how super knowledgeable I am, as you know”

“Knowledgeable my ass, you didn’t know your microwave had a popcorn button until I told you”

“In my defense, I heard you’re not even supposed to use the popcorn button for popcorn”

“Then why is it called a popcorn button?”

“I dunno. Maybe the same reason why Greenland is called Greenland”

“What?”

“Deception. The guy who found Greenland named it that cause he wanted more people to come over. I bet he was lonely”

“Why do you know that?” Tara says in between laughs

“No clue, but we’re getting off topic!” You smile. “The point is, you shouldn’t feel like you have to keep secrets from me.” You reach over to pinch Tara’s cheek and she tries to swat your hand away, ultimately failing. “Well, big secrets. If you cheated on a test or something I don’t care that much”

“Thanks, (Y/n)”

“No problemo, squirt”

So now you were back to silently eating dinner except for your TV playing some sitcom Tara liked. You could handle the quietness. Even if Tara didn’t want to tell you, at least she knew you were there to listen. That’s all that mattered

“(Y/n), I think I like a girl.”

//-//

“What was Sam like?” Tara says out of the blue. “I was thirteen when she left but she didn’t really talk to me. What was she like… before that?”

It was another weekend night that consisted of spending time with Tara. The question catches you off guard

“I don’t think you’d believe me, squirt”

“Well I wanna know anyways. Even if i believe it or not”

“Did you know Sam named you?”

“She did?”

“Yeah, Sam named you Tara. You were unnamed for a while before she came up with anything.”

“Mom said she was mean. Is that true?”

“I mean yeah, but not entirely. When you’re friends with Sam, she’d be the nicest person you’ve ever met. Hell, she’d probably kill for anyone she loved. But when someone messed with a person she loved, nothing could stop her from making her loved one feel better”

“I wish I could’ve experienced it.”

“Trust me, you did. You just don’t remember it. One time when you were little, a kid that was around Sam’s age at time pushed you into the mud at the playground and Sam was furious” You laugh

“You cried and Sam could hear you from where we were playing soccer. She found him and kicked his ass so hard he crawled back to his mommy so we took you and booked it out of there”

“She did that?” Tara covers her mouth laughing, failing to cover it up

“I remember it like it was yesterday, squirt. Sam gave you a piggy back ride and you were giggling the entire time we ran home.”

//-//

“Fuck, Tara! Shit, I came as fast as I could. Are you okay? Oh my god, of course you’re not okay.” You barged into Tara’s hospital room without any concern of who else was in there. You took her face in your hands and scanned for anything wrong until you brought her into a bone crushing hug. “Sorry, stupid question. Holy shit I’m so happy you’re alive, squirt. I am never letting you out of my sight again. Okay maybe in the future I will, but the future is not now! Right now I’m never leaving you again.”

“You’re such a fighter, you know that? Holy shit you must’ve been so scared. Tara you’re the strongest person I know, did you know that?” There are tears in your eyes threatening to spill. You don’t even notice there are other people in the room.

“Deep breaths, (Y/n). I’m okay. Look, I’m right here” Tara takes one of your hands and puts it against her heart. Your eyes can’t hold in your tears any longer. When you cried, you rambled. Tara was ready for the storm.

“Fuck you’re such a sweet girl, Tara. Even when you’re lying in a hospital bed you care about me. I don’t know what monster would do this to you! He obviously doesn’t know what a blessing to this world you are. Please promise you’ll never let anyone stop you from being the beautiful sweet girl you are.”

There it was.

You felt a hand rub your back and your arm. You assumed it was Tara. Until you heard a hum that wasn’t Tara’s. Until you realized this person had rough hands. And oddly smelt like…

“Sam?” Your head whips around

“Hey, (Y/n). I… I missed you.”

“Sam?” You let go for a second and bring your hand to her face. Not in a cute or romantic holding-her-cheek-way, no, you pinch at her cheeks and nose with a questioning look. You poke at Sam’s forehead and nose, still probably in disbelief. Yeah, you were still her (Y/n).

“Please don’t tell me both of you are dead and I’m actually in a psych ward and this is all a dream” You whisper and you can hear Tara laugh behind you

“No, this is all very real.” Sam smiles, taking your hand off her face and gently putting it back by your side. Your eyes go wide and you whip around to look back at the younger Carpenter

“Tara, can I take my attention off you for a second? Will you be okay?” You whisper, knowing damn well Sam could hear you

“Yeah I’ll be okay, (Y/n). Go hug Sam.”

You press a kiss against Tara’s hairline and immediately after, launch into Sam’s arms. Tara could feel it again, you were going to start crying and rambling.

“Sam, I can’t believe you’re here! Well of course you’re here. I always knew you’d come back! I knew you wanted to come back. I don’t know why you left, but I hope you achieved your goal and came back because you missed us. Also I’m really mad at you but for the sake of time we can discuss that at a later time.”

There it was.

“You two are close, huh?” You don’t notice there’s a man with curly hair in the room and you raise an eyebrow at Sam

“Yeah, very close” You say

“Sorry, I should introduce you two. (Y/n), this is my boyfriend Richie. Richie, this is (Y/n). My…” Fuck. Sam couldn’t just say you were her best friend after all these years. After she made your life shit, was she even allowed to call you her friend? What if-

“Best friend. Happy to meet you, Richie”

“Likewise” He smiles. There’s a pang of a certain emotion in your chest you can’t quite place

“Well, I’ll be going now. Feel better soon, Tara” Richie waves at the younger Carpenter and gives Sam a kiss before he leaves Tara’s hospital room

“Do you know if my friends are visiting soon?” Tara asks you. Sam doesn’t know how to feel when she sees Tara treating you more like a sister than her. She knew it was wrong. Sam had no right to be treated like a sister after she just up and left all those years ago

“Amber told me she was getting some of your things from her house. The twins are coming over right now, okay? I think you’ll feel better when you see them”

Sam felt like an alien watching you and Tara talk. Watching you two was like watching everything she’s missed. Sam missed almost all of Tara’s high school experience. Arguably one of the most important times to have an older sister. She shouldn’t have been jealous. She wasn’t allowed to be jealous after all she did to you and Tara

“How’re you feeling right now? Anything I need to tell the doctors?”

“No, I’m feeling okay”

“Hey, can I talk to you outside, (Y/n)?” Sam says almost above a whisper

“Yeah, of course.” You turn to face Tara as you walk out her room. “See you in a second, squirt. Don’t run away” The brunette rolls her eyes at your words

“Guess I owe you all my stuffed animals, huh?”

“You still remember that?” You raise an eyebrow at the girl

“I do. I owe you an explanation, don’t I?”

“An explanation would be appreciated” You weren’t mad at Sam per se, just very very very disappointed. Mostly at yourself for letting her leave

“You remember when I yelled at you that day in middle school? I said I didn’t want to talk to you or be your friend anymore? It’s not an excuse, but I have an explanation.”

You nod along to Sam’s story, listening close

“The night before I yelled at you, I found out my dad wasn’t really my dad. I was going through my mom’s diaries I found in the attic and it was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I.. I found out I was-“ Sam doesn’t realize she’s crying until she chokes on her words and your expression falters. Sam remembers you were always good at comforting people

She’d always get bruises and scrapes when she was younger but you were always there to make her feel better. Fuck, she can’t remember why she would ever leave you. You were the perfect best friend. Always an inviting smile and open arms that were ready for hugs. The only one that stuck with Sam through whatever happened.

Sam was at her lowest of lows when you picked her up that night during the party. She remembers wondering why she’d put you so much pain and worry. She smoothed out the wrinkles on your forehead while you were asleep and felt guilty she was probably the cause of them. That night when you picked up Sam from that party and you had your arms wrapped around her, Sam asked herself why she would ever push you away. She loved everything about you. She loved you.

In her drunken state she remembers wanting to fade away into your memory. At least then you’d remember the Sam that played tag with you and not the one that snorted or drank away her pain. It was the same night she decided to leave everything behind. She decided to leave you behind

But Sam was selfish. She wanted you to tell her not to go. To come back into your arms and for you to tell her everything would be okay. That it didn’t matter she was the bastard child of a serial killer. It wasn’t her fault her dad left. Reassuring her you and Tara would love Sam the same. In a perfect world Sam would’ve still been Tara’s sister and you would’ve been her-

“Hey, look at me. You don’t have to tell me. If this is hurting you so much then I understand why you wanted to run away. What matters is that you came back. You’re strong for that” You pull Sam into your arms, letting her cry into the side of your neck.

Sam didn’t have the heart or the voice to tell you it wasn’t the story making her cry. She feared her voice would fail her and drive you away again. Sam would tell you why she left later

But right now, Sam was happy to be able to bask in your arms once again.

//-//

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

“Mhm?” You and Sam were back at your house getting some things Tara wanted

She requested the teddy bear Amber got her for her birthday, a blanket from her bed, and something better than hospital food. You decided to whip up something quick and simple you knew Tara liked. Frozen orange chicken from the store and fried rice

“I think I can tell you about why I left now.”

“Are you sure? I’m not gonna force you to tell me if it hurts so much to say, Sam”

“No, you of all people deserve to know. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m the same person that said all those horrible things to you and just never talked to you again without explanation.”

“Hey, don’t worry about all that. It’s in the past now and I know you’ve changed. I forgive you-“

“No, (Y/n). You can’t forgive me. You can’t make excuses for me and talk to me like we’re best friends again when I ignored you because I was mad at myself and- and-“ Sam chokes on her words and can’t hide it when you glance at her.

“Oh, Sam…”

“No, you can’t forgive me yet. I betrayed your trust. You can’t forgive me.”

“Sam, I accepted your apology when I saw you in Tara’s hospital room. Whatever you were going to say, I already knew I’d forgive you all the same.”

“Stop saying that, (Y/n). You don’t always have to be nice, you can be mad too.”

“But it’s true, Sam. If I’m mad at someone, I’m mad at myself for not fighting for you harder”

“How can you still look at me even when I left you. Years of friendship, all down the drain because I couldn’t handle being the bastard child of a serial killer that broke her family apart.” You turn off the heat to your stove, walking over to where Sam was curled into herself and sitting near the bottom of the staircase

Taking a seat next to her, you drape your arm around her shoulders and attempt to get her to rest her head on your shoulder. Sam doesn’t let you and fights back.

“Samantha Carpenter, you have been gone for five years. One-thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days, not including leap day. You aren’t allowed to push me away again. If you really want to say sorry, you can start by letting me in.” You take on a faux-mad tone and it seems to work

Slowly, the older Carpenter leans into your shoulder with a sigh. She makes herself comfortable and looks at you through her eyelids. It was weird. Five years out of Woodsboro and four years away from you, yet you still opened up your arms like nothings changed. It was odd. You were odd.

“What’re you thinking about?” You’ve always had a knack for reading Sam’s mind. Whenever she got quiet and her heart looked like it slowed, she was probably thinking

“You.”

“What about me?”

“How I don’t get you”

“What don’t you get about me?”

“I haven’t talked to you in nine years, I show up unannounced, and you’re still acting like we’re best friends even after all this time. I can’t tell if you’re the nicest or weirdest person ever.”

“Can’t I be both?” You smile, trying to lighten the mood. You realize it doesn’t work when Sam shies away from your gaze

“Well, I can be honest. I think it’s because I’m selfish.” That makes Sam look at you again so you decide to keep going

“Of course I’m… disappointed you broke up our friendship and you left without telling me and left your sister and I to believe you were never coming back,” The older Carpenter winces at your words but you don’t let her stop looking at you. Even as you avoid eye contact and place your gaze somewhere else.

“But there’s a part of me that wants everything to go back to normal. I know we’re going to have to talk about it. About us and about why, but right now I think what we need to do is be there for Tara. She’s in the hospital after being attacked by a serial killer and the last thing she needs is her older sister and her best friend fighting. We can do all the yelling and crying and screaming later.”

Taking a breath in, you look back at Sam who’s already looking at you. I’m makes your heart flutter in a way you don’t understand.

“And maybe that’s my excuse. Maybe I never want to cry or yell or scream at you. Maybe I’m putting off the inevitable because I don’t want you to leave again. Maybe Tara is my excuse for not being mad at you. Maybe I’m holding out hope for someone that doesn’t exist anymore. We’re different people than when we were in middle school. I don’t want to cling to a person that doesn’t exist anymore yet here I am, clinging to someone that doesn’t exist like she’s my lifeline. But in all honesty, I don’t think I could stay mad at you for too long. Even if I tried.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” There’s a silence that passes between you two. You can’t tell if it’s awkward or comfortable silence. You hope it’s the latter

“Do you get me a little more?”

“Well, not entirely. But I think it’s a step.”

“Yeah. Steps are good, aren’t they? Keep you healthy.” Sam smiles at your stupid joke.

You don’t miss how Sam still reminds you of looking like one of your old stuffed animals.

“What was Tara like?”

“What do you mean?” The question catches you off guard. The Carpenter sisters seemed to have that in common

“I missed a lot of her life. What was she like?”

“I don’t think she’s changed a lot. Tara is a sweet girl, she’s got a good head on her shoulders and a good heart in her body.”

“But that’s probably not what you’re asking. Tara was… distraught when you left.” You pick your words carefully. “She ran away from her mom just to tell me you left. She said I deserved to know since I was your best friend. It took a while for her to want to let go of me me. It’s when I knew I just couldn’t let her stay like that forever”

You shakily sigh before continuing. You’d have to acknowledge the elephant in the room eventually and you decided it was going to be now. “I know I’m not her real sister. I hope you’ll forgive me for taking a role that was supposed to-“

“Are you kidding?” Sam quickly cuts you off when she registers what you’re saying. “If anything, I’m happy it was you.” The Carpenter lifts her head up from your shoulder to look at you. To really look at you. “I know she has a good person to look up to. I’m happy you two are close.”

You’re about to respond when your ringtone goes off. The same ringtone you had in high school. Some Evanescence song you remember religiously listening to in school blasts from your phone. Usually it was Tara who found it embarrassing when you had to answer it in public but this time it was you with the reddened cheeks. Scrambling to find your phone in your pocket, you pull it out to see it’s Tara calling you

“Hey squirt. What’s up?”

“Are you guys going to hurry up anytime soon? I’m starving”

“Yeah we’re leaving just now don’t worry about it”

“Okay but my stomach is currently eating itself”

“You’ll live. I’ll see you soon, yeah? Don’t go running anywhere”

“At least I don’t run jokes into the ground until they’re dead… pun not intended”

“Hah! Proof you’re taking after me whether you like it or not”

“Whatever, I’ll see you soon. Run red lights if you have to”

“You got it, boss. See you soon” You pocket your phone, getting up from where you’re sitting. Offering Sam your hand, she takes it and you help her up too

“C’mon, our little girl’s hungry. That’s something you should know, she’s got an appetite the size of an elephant and a metabolism as fast as a cheetah” You smile, putting Tara’s food in a lunchbox you had in a random cabinet somewhere

Sam doesn’t trust her voice to do anything but break so she laughs at your comment and you both leave your house

Sam thinks our little girl has a good ring to it.

//-//

“Oh my god. Tara? Sam?” You narrowly avoided the police yelling at you to get away and the caution tape that prevented you from coming any closer. What used to be a house that held fond memories had been replaced with one that only caused you worry. You couldn’t lose both Tara and Sam. You couldn’t lose your favorite girls.

Sam texted you to come over to Amber’s house. That it was a Ghostface emergency and the speed in which you jumped in your car rivaled The Flash himself

“(Y/n)!” Sam’s voice. You run to the sound, dodging and weaving through the paramedics and police officers telling you to leave

Sam finds you with bags under your eyes and your hair a mess. It looked like you were in your sleepwear. Even though you were just in a band tee and plaid pajama pants, Sam feels the need to wipe the blood off her face and clothes to look a little presentable. You always had that effect for some reason

“Sam.” You breathe a sigh of relief, running into her arms. Your choked sobs reach her ears and it’s the saddest sound she’s ever heard. Sam squeezes you tighter. Maybe if she did she’d never want to leave again

“You’re back and you almost left me again. Don’t you know how mad I would be if you died?” Pulling back, you put both of your hands on Sam’s cheeks like you did so many years ago. “You- you-“

“Hey, shh… I’m here. I’m here, sweetie. See? I’m here and I’m never leaving again.” Sam leans her forehead against yours, putting your hands around her waist so she could wipe the tears away from your face.

“I’m here, yeah? We won. They’re gone now, (Y/n).”

“How’re you sure?”

“They’re dead. Both of the Ghostfaces are dead.”

Sam leans in, awfully close for someone who’s just your best friend. Your mind instantly goes to her boyfriend. You know what’s about to happen so you back away, a little weary. The Carpenter furrows her eyebrows looking a little sad, oddly resembling a kicked puppy.

“What about Ric-?”

“Don’t say his name, it’ll ruin your perfect mouth” Sam cups your cheek, running her face over your bottom lip

You have to fight your body to not get hot at her words and actions. “Yeah but- he’s kind of your boyfriend. Where is he?”

“Ex-boyfriend actually. He’s dead, I killed him.”

“Oh. Am I right for assuming that’s a god thing?”

“Very good. He was one of the Ghostfaces”

“One of? Who’s the other?”

“I think Tara should be the one to tell you”

“Well, I didn’t like Richie to begin with. He gave me an odd feeling”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Sam leans in closer to you, a ghost of a kiss hanging in the air waiting to be taken. Sam smiles against your breath and for a fraction of a second you think your heart has stopped beating.

“He got to kiss you before I did.” Something snaps in Sam when you kiss her. A craving she’s always had, a certain desire finally being filled, or maybe even her dreams coming true.

You hold Sam like she’s about to leave again, pulling her impossibly close. You’re never letting her go again. It’s Sam who pulls away first. She’s out of breath but you lean in to steal more kisses before she smiles against your lips and it’s an image you never want to forget.

“Please, you two have to stop doing this.” You whisper, your eyes going wide. “Where’s Tara?” You pull away from Sam, whipping your head around like it’s going to help you find her quicker

“C’mon, she’s over here. Be careful, don’t squeeze her too hard”

“I’m going to squeeze that girl until she knows how much I love her.”

“You might break one of her ribs, darling”

“Squirt, you’re alive!” You run to Tara as her head whips in your direction. You can feel tears pool in your eyes once again and you’re okay with letting them go.

“(Y/n), I was so scared. A-Amber she- she tried to kill me.”

“What? Amber? Amber as in, your girlfriend?” You say shocked, taking Tara’s face in your hands to look at her

“A-Amber and Richie, they-“

“How about we tell (Y/n) what happened later? We need to make sure everyone is okay, including ourselves. (Y/n) can wait, right?”

“Oh I can wait alright. I’m the best at waiting. You can tell me about it when you’re feeling better”

One of the paramedics call over the Carpenter sisters and by proximity, you tag along. A man is ushering them in an ambulance and you’re also about to hop in before he stops you

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but we can’t let you into the ambulance. We don’t have enough space.”

“That is my little girl and that is my girlfriend. I will either be running every single red light, hang on the top of this ambulance, or so forgive me god for what I’m going to do.”

“O-Of course, Ma’am. You can ride in the ambulance.”

“Thank you, sir. You made a good decision today” You pat his shoulder, taking your seat near Sam. You sling an arm around Sam’s shoulders and reach out to hold Tara’s hand.

“Girlfriend, huh?” Tara weakly smiles, looking between you and her sister.

[persimmonsimmer]

If there was one thing Nadya had learned over the years, it was that Carl knew how to get things done. Still, the plan he'd just described sounded too good to be true. Especially considering that it all hinged on the supposed expertise of a young woman, this Sam, who looked by all rights like she ought to be enrolled in one of Hannah Chen’s classes right alongside her own Farah and Mariam.

She spoke carefully.

Nadya: "You know building an electrical grid has been a high priority of mine. It would put us on the path to becoming a real city. Maybe the first to be built since Before. But, realistically, I didn't think we'd have the funds, or the expertise, to start working on one for . . . well, for decades. I’m still not sure we do."

Carl: "Which is where Sam comes in. It won’t be cheap, no, but with her guidance I’m confident we can do it without getting bogged down with mistakes and unexpected costs, and that’s always where the costs of a project really start to add up.”

Nadya scrutinized the woman seated next to Carl. She'd never known Carl to be wrong when he vouched for someone's skill. But she was so young.

Nadya: "You understand, everything would be riding on this project's success. It would have to be completed before the election after this one. And completed successfully." She turned to address Sam directly. "Are you sure you'd know what you were doing?"

Sam: "Yes, ma'am."

Nadya: "Even though, as you admitted earlier, you've never created anything on a scale anywhere close to this."

Sam: "Like I said, I've been messing around with wires and batteries since I was barely a kid. I've read every book on infrastructure and physics and chemistry and electrical engineering I could get my hands on.

"But each of my experiments required weeks of salvaging for the materials, so it’s true there was only so much I could do. It's been my dream to help bring electricity back to the world ever since I can remember, but I never thought I'd have the resources to do it. Not until Carl asked if I'd be willing to help you. I can do this. I swear."

Carl: "Sam here is a certifiable genius, I'm telling you. I've seen some of the things she's created from practically nothing. Marvelous contraptions. With her at the helm of this project, you and I both can rest easy."

Nadya: "I am tempted. But there's also the matter of the clinic I was hoping to build. We might be able to muster the funds for a grid if I raise taxes, but we certainly won’t have the resources to build both. The clinic would have to be delayed indefinitely. That would be very unfortunate."

Carl: “A clinic would be a real boon to the town, to be sure. But then again, how much more will Meda or anyone else be able to accomplish in a clinic until we’ve got electricity in place? I think the priority here's clear."

Nadya: “Still, some of the townspeople will be angry. They'll say I've gone back on my word.”

Carl: “Listen, Nadya.” Instead of wearing his usual wide smile, he was now serious, still-faced. “I know it’s a political risk. But it’s worth it, isn’t it?”

Nadya: “Maybe . . . If we could just delay the start, a few years at most—”

Carl: “Much as I hate to put the screws to you, Nadya, I’m afraid Sam here, at least, needs an answer. She’s come all this way on my assurance there’d be a job for her at the end of the road, and, well, if that’s not the case, she has a family to get back to.”

Meaning we’ll lose our chance at this supposed wunderkind’s help forever, I suppose, Nadya thought sourly.

Nadya: “You have family back at home, Sam?” If only Carl would stop blathering at her, give her a few minutes to figure out how to swing this to her best advantage. “And where did you say home is, again?”

Sam’s eyes darted toward Carl.

Sam: “A little sister. And it’s so small, it doesn’t even have a name. We hardly ever even saw any traders, except for Carl.”

Nadya: “It must be hard to leave home behind, nevertheless.” She’d hardly registered Sam’s words. “Carl, you know I want this for Panorama. I do. Perhaps . . . if you could sweeten the deal for me . . . ?"

Carl: "What did you have in mind?"

He knew she was hooked. As suddenly as it had vanished, his usual smile had reappeared.

Nadya: "Just a little something for your crew to work on while this project is still in the planning stages. Something my fellow Panoramans can get some use from sooner rather than later."

It didn't take Nadya long to explain what she had in mind, and when she finished, Carl's smile was even wider than before.

Carl: "Is that all? Piece of cake. It'll be done before the winter's out."

Nadya: "Then you've got a deal, Worth."

Decisiveness. That’s what made her a leader.

Nadya: “Just tell me one thing. Where exactly do you find so many talented people? Your knack for it is almost uncanny."

Carl: "Ah-ah, Nadya. I can't go giving away all my secrets. Gotta leave you some reason to keep me around."

He beamed.

[ficthots]

To Whom It May Concern

A/N: Jesus I so overdid this, but I couldn’t help myself. Love triangle. Need I explain more? Also, I know this picture is way overused, but it's basically the only one of these two together! What's up with that by the way? Anywho, as always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: Smut. DNI if you are under 18. 18+ only

Word Count: 18.8k+

Falling in love is a right of passage. It happens at different ages and times for everyone. As you grow, so do your infatuations. These feelings you can’t begin to describe take over your being and infiltrate your mind daily. They can happen more than once, they can happen just once, it all varies and depends on the person. Loving love is what we're taught from such a young age. Why would anyone be anything but enthralled to finally feel the deep rooted sensations that accompany love?

Because they can be unrequited. A majority of the time they are. Whomever has captured your attention and the blossoming feelings that you begin to feel deep in your soul are simply unreturned. Never showing a large interest in even thinking about expressing or returning those emotions. 

That seemed to be your only experience with love. 

On more than one occasion you admit to staring off into space as you imagined him finally admitting his feelings for you. What your life and world could be like if he was by your side for it all. Something you had been imagining and daydreaming about since you first met him when you were just a child. Not fully comprehending what those butterflies in your stomach actually were. As you grew older, you harbored those feelings for him, settling for being just friends. 

You could be the friend. Sure, those feelings wouldn’t go away, in fact it was quite the opposite. They only expanded. Spending incredulous amounts of time together over the years meant it was the only way it was going to happen. The sweetest boy turned man you had ever met in your life. Watching from the sidelines as he hopped from relationship to relationship, never looking at you the way you had so desperately wanted for years. But it didn’t matter because it was him.

Danny. 

Having grown up with the Kiszka boys, Danny joined the group in middle school. The rest was history for you. The second the tall, lanky boy entered their living room, being introduced by Sam, you felt your mouth go dry. Eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of him, you didn’t know what to say when he took the spot next to you on the floor, legs going under the coffee table.

The gang was playing a round of monopoly and when his knee lightly brushed yours, you melted into the floor. “Hey,” he said with a kind, but nervous smile. Clearing your throat, you anxiously straightened the fake money piles in front of you, terrified to make eye contact with him. “Hey,” you offered back eyes darting up to him and seeing his attention already focused on the board.

Staring at your best friend across the table, Sam’s eyebrows were furrowed, shaking his head no at you. Feeling heat creep up your cheeks and neck, you had a silent conversation using only various looks with the youngest brother. A throat cleared next to you, seeing older brother Jake’s head move between you both.

With a nudge, Jake spoke up, “It’s your turn, belly,” your eyes went wide at the horrendous nickname, embarrassment pummeling you at the term being used right then. “Belly? Why belly?” His voice spoke up from next to you, but everyone burst out in laughter as Sam tried to get the explanation out.

“Be-because, we went to a lake one summer a long time ago, an-and she belly flopped off the back of the boat into the wa-water.” Tears streamed down all of their faces at the ridiculous memory, but all he did was offer a light chuckle, elbow popping out towards your arm as he leaned towards you. “It’s better than all of your nicknames coming from being the tallest kid in the class or having a huge nose,” he gave a kind smile, trying to offer a sense of relief from the others still rolling around on the floor from laughter.

You nearly choked on your words as you tried to respond to him. “I-I like your nose. I don’t think it’s big at all. And Michael Davidson is taller than you,” his smile grew at your words. You couldn’t keep eye contact a second longer after that, eyes going back to the board and rolling your dice as Sam continued cackling. 

“Shut up, Sam! Or should I say skidmark,” as Jake and twin Josh had just caught their breath, they were back to rolling around on the floor dying in laughter. Sam quieted down right away after that, face burning bright red at the jab back at him. “Whatever, I don’t want to play anymore. Come on, Danny. I’ll show you my guitar. It’s pretty cool.” 

Jake slammed his money on the table as the boys pounded up the stairs, you staring after them in awe as they moved, Jake shouting after them, “Sam, I swear to god, if you touch my guitar, I’ll kill you!” You didn’t notice you had been staring until Josh spoke up next to you. 

“Well, I guess that mean’s games over. Can you help me put it away?” You snapped back into the moment, quickly nodding in agreement as you aided Josh in putting the game away. He chatted the entire time, but you had no idea what he had said at all. Only thinking about the new boy upstairs. 

That was just the beginning. He was around nearly every single day after that. Taking over as drummer for their little band and constantly being over for practice. You were over everyday because it was just what you did. Your parents worked late, and you weren’t comfortable being home alone so late, so you went to the Kiszka house until one of your parents would come and get you.

Unrequited love. That was the definition of your entire relationship with Danny. You had been in love with the boy since the day he had walked into the room, but nothing you did or said made a difference. In Danny’s eyes, you were just another part of the group. Nothing more.

Years rolled by with no advances. As he became an adopted brother to the boys, it seemed like you became his adopted sister. It didn’t matter what you tried, it simply just didn’t matter. Realization of this dawned on you during your senior year of high school. Prom season had quickly approached. Sam had asked one of the girls in your class, and you had been asked by two different guys that you had turned down.

Sitting in your room Sam had his legs straight up against your bed, back flush with the floor, tossing a ball up into the air while your other best friend, Marcia, sat at your desk while you looked at the dress you had bought for prom. 

“Okay, what do you think?” You turned to face them both, their heads turning to you and Marcy gasped, eyes wide as she nodded fervently. “Oh my god, yes, yes, yes! That dress is everything.” Sam nodded, going back to tossing his ball. “Looks good. Who are you going with? I heard that Mason Bloomson asked you. Did you say yes?” Eyes falling downcast, you shook your head. “Oh, yeah, he did. I turned him down,” Marcy’s jaw nearly hit the floor at your words. “You said no to Mason?” You only offered a shrug, turning back towards the floor length mirror, playing with the dress, wanting to avoid the topic all together.

Sam sighed, deciding to be as blunt as possible with you. “Danny’s not asking you, belly.” You shot him a dirty look through the mirror. “I’m not waiting for Dan-” he cut you off before you could finish, “He already asked Jessica Frock. She said yes,” you tried to mask the hurt expression that plastered to your face. 

Marcy’s face fell, locking eyes with you through the mirror, an apologetic look on her own face. Trying to shake it off, Sam carefully watched your reaction from the corner of his eyes. “I’m sorry, belly flop,” your nose and lips twitched to the side as you felt the hurt pummel you. 

“I wanted to go alone. It’s more fun that way.” Was all you could offer in return, now hating the color of dress you had picked. After having seen his suit just a couple weeks prior, the silver and gold dress you had selected because you thought it would match Danny well now seemed ridiculous. 

The day of prom, you spent nearly all day getting ready with Marcy, knowing it was time to go down the street for pictures. When you appeared at the Kiszka house for photos, your eyes were immediately drawn to him. He looked amazing. The suit fit him perfectly, not making him look as skinny as he typically did, hair slicked back, boutonniere pinned to his lapel. He looked happy as he and Jessica matched perfectly.

You felt heat creep up your neck at the whistle that came from the other side of the room. “You look amazing, belly.” Josh leaned against the doorframe, eyes bright with amusement as you walked over to him. “Thanks, chompers.” The nickname you came up for him based on the sheer size of his smile and teeth. His face lightly pinked at your words. 

Looking around the room, his brows furrowed as he saw Sam with his date, Danny with Jessica, and Marcy with hers, his eyes fell back to you. “Where’s your date? Is he running late?” You shook your head, taking in a short breath as you tried to laugh it off. “Oh, no. I’m going by myself.”

A look of shock took over Josh’s face at your words, standing up straight. “What? Why?” You couldn’t help but look at him. Laughing with Sam about the picture they had just taken together. “I-I just wasn’t asked by the right person.” Josh followed your gaze, nodding with understanding but not saying anything more. 

When the parents called you over for the group photo, you begrudgingly trekked over. The picture of you, Sam, and Danny had you placed in between them. “Ah, how cute! Danny and belly girl match!” Danny’s brows furrowed at his moms words, looking down to see what you were wearing. 

Laughter escaped him as he looked back towards the camera. “Oh, look we do.” His hand came up and lightly ruffled your hair. You tried to laugh through the awkwardness that sat deep in your stomach, smoothing down the top of your hair. “Ye-yeah.” That was the last Danny said to you all night. 

You ended up sitting on the balcony for most of the evening, watching over the party goers, tears streaming down your cheeks at how incredibly stupid you felt about the entire thing. You should’ve known better. Danny didn’t see you that way. The way you looked at him like he had hung the stars and the moon just for you. Like he was the only person in the world worth a damn. 

No, to Danny you were just another part of the group. When Sam invited you to a band practice one afternoon you knew you had nothing better to do so you went. Sitting in the garage listening to the sound pounding around you, you couldn’t fight the smile that grew on your face with each passing minute.

Eyes glued to him. He moved so easily despite the burn you knew he had in his arms. Never missing a beat, it was like second nature to him. He was captivating. As the boys went in to grab a drink of water, you remained in the garage with Danny. 

“So, what do you think?” You stood from your stool, walking over to the drum set. “Eh.” His shocked laugh fell from his lips. “Eh? We just poured out hearts and souls into this and you say eh?” You both fought through laughter as he feigned hurt. 

Giving a shrug, you went to his own seat, plopping down and grabbing the sticks from his hands. “Watch the professional. You might want to take notes here,” he leaned against a tool chest, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you. 

You took in a deep breath, rolling your head in an over dramatic way, wanting to make a show of this. When you opened your eyes, you immediately just started hitting everything you could, letting your foot go wild on the pedal, nothing but horrific noise going into the room. Danny started laughing so hard, he hunched over, hands flat on the tops of his thighs as he watched from the sidelines. 

“Okay, okay! Don’t break ‘em!” He approached you as you came to stop, out of breath from the exertion. Giggles falling from you. “I mean that was pretty good, right? I feel like we sounded exactly the same. I can be your understudy anytime. Just give me a call and I’m there.” 

He came up behind you, hands enclosing over yours, looming over you as he got your hands into actual position. His leg hooked under yours, moving it to the correct spot. His head came down, cheek nearly brushing yours as he spoke. “Yeah, let’s get some more practice first. Okay, it’s one-two-two-one,” he moved your hands with his, hitting the drums as he spoke. 

“Now, when you feel my foot hit yours, hit the pedal,” your tongue darted out as you tried adjusting your body to actually try and play. Continuing with the basic motions, him guiding you still, his foot occasionally tapping yours to remind you to hit the pedal, you actually had a smooth rhythm going.

The garage door opened, the guys walking in and seeing the beaming smile on your face as you played with Danny, slowly speeding up. “Huh? Look at this! I am so your back up drummer now.” All three of their eyebrows shot up, nodding, but Jake pointed to Danny. 

“Take your hands off,” he did so and you immediately lost the smooth pace you had been playing at. Pouting at Jake, you pointed a stick at him, “You’re such an ass!” Laughter erupted from everyone as Danny tapped your shoulder, letting you know it was time to get up.

Reluctantly standing, you once again took your regular spot, but Josh approached you. “Hey, I think you’ve got amazing potential. More so than me.” He shot you a wink as you laughed, pushing him away from you. 

You were buzzing for the remainder of the week. 

Nothing ever changed. Even as you grew older, having gone off to college, their music taking off. Becoming a massive success seemingly overnight. They weren’t home near enough anymore. When you were able to get home from school, they were almost always gone and vice versa. 

Of course, you dated around, but nothing ever stuck. No massive feelings ever erupting for anyone else. Still only viewing Danny in that light. It wasn’t until Christmas break when you had gotten home that you noticed an aura shift in the house. The bouncing boy, full of energy and life, came crashing into the party. 

Something was…different. You couldn’t help but look at Josh…different. When his eyes connected with yours, you didn’t think it was possible for his smile to grow larger, eyes get brighter, but he took off in your direction, enveloping you in a massive hug. Hands cupping your cheeks as he pulled back, a different look on his face than ever before. 

“My belly girl!” He pulled you back to him. Butterflies. 

It would be another year before anything would ever come of that. But it didn’t matter because he still caught your eye. Hair longer than ever before, eyes beaming as he took you in. Still Danny. Still not the look you dreamed of. 

“I’m fucking done. Do you have any idea how bad that date was last night?” Angrily slamming a plate into the soapy water into the sink below, your two best friends laughed on the other end of the FaceTime call. “No, belly, please do tell.” 

You gave Sam the dirtiest look you could manage as his sarcastic tone rang through the speaker. “No. Just for that, I won’t. There is nobody. Literally no good guys anymore. They’re all sleazy assholes and the ones that are good either don’t like you back or are taken. It’s a goddamn lose-lose situation, here!”

Frustration had your voice going up to a pitch it typically didn’t. “Bells, you just have bad taste in men.” Setting the plate down after scrubbing it roughly, you deadpanned to the split screen, Marcy’s words not making you feel any better. 

“Thanks for the help. I appreciate you both so much.” Sam groaned, moving around the hotel he was currently in before flipping a light switch on and showcasing his entire face for the first time. “If you would just act on your feelings maybe this wouldn’t be happening. You’re too afraid of everything and that’s the problem here and you know it.” 

Eyebrows drawing in at his words, your soap covered hands rested on the counter top. “Am not.” You muttered back, but Marcy caught it. “Are too! Both Danny and Josh are prime examples of this. You’ve had a crush on Danny since forever and Josh since you were nineteen years old. You. Are. A. Chicken.” 

Rolling your eyes, you continued with your dishes. “I don’t even like them anymore. They were phases. I had no interaction with any other boys until college. Of course I would like whoever was in front of me.” 

They both protested, but before they could continue Sam had to end the call, needing to head to the venue for their last show of their tour. An amazing, globe trotting tour that had you bursting with pride at the once garage band now literal rockstars. Seeing their dreams happen right before your eyes. 

You hardly spoke to anyone for the following few days, having had an insane time at work and knowing the boys were getting back to Nashville sometime that week, you were far too busy to dwell on it. They had basically followed you to Nashville, you having gotten into school there and finding a job right after school, the gang ended up following.

Collapsing on your couch with a loud sigh and groan, having changed for the night, you were looking forward to reading and consuming an adult cocktail, but that came to an abrupt halt when a knock sounded on the other side of your front door. Debating on ignoring it, a text came through to your phone just seconds later. 

Perm-It’s me. Open the door. Please :) 

Excitement coursed through you as you jumped from your seat and opened your door with haste. Throwing yourself into his embrace, his curls tickled your cheek as he wrapped his arms around you. “Belly!” You could hear the big smile through his words.

His arms tightened around you as you rocked with him, not wanting to let go just yet, one of his hands cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped tightly around your waist. “Fro boy! When did you guys get back?” He laughed, reluctantly letting you go, hands not leaving you just yet. 

“This afternoon.” You grabbed his hand, dragging him into your apartment and going to your kitchen to make him a drink. “I want to hear everything,” he cleared his throat, your back facing him, “Belly,” continuing on and ignoring him, you animatedly kept talking. “Tell me everything, every story,” he tried again to intervene, “Bells.” Still, you carried on. “I’ve only heard some from Sam, but you always tell them so much better than him.” 

When you turned on your heel, drink made for him in hand, the glass slipped from your fingers as you saw what he held in his hands, his cheeks bright red. He immediately went to clean the broken glass that scattered around the floor. “Ho-how di-did you get that?” Your finger pointed at the envelope in his hands, unable to process what was happening. 

With Josh still crouched on the floor, paper towels in hand, mopping up the liquid and picking up the glass shards, he answered. “It was in my mail when I got home.” Your trembling hands grabbed the envelope, praying that it wasn’t opened. 

It was.

“This isn’t even your current address.” You mumbled out, seeing the decorated envelope in your hands. When Josh stood back up, his gaze fell to it. “It was in another envelope.” Nodding, you went to your couch and sat down, the item still in your hands, unable to get up to speed. 

His awkward laugh broke through the room as he appeared in your line of vision. “I think we need to talk about it.” You swallowed thickly, not having blinked once. “Mhm.” You answered back. He sat on the coffee table, merely inches from you. 

He waited for you. Didn’t pressure you. Wanted you to be ready to share with him whatever you were feeling. Whatever explanation you wanted to give. Taking a deep breath, you calmed down enough to look into the large doe eyes peering at you, giving you a comforting smile. 

“I just want to start by saying that letter is old. Very old. That's why that address isn’t right. I don’t know how or who sent it, but it wasn’t me.” Josh laughed with a shrug, hands rubbing his knees. “I figured that out when you dropped that glass.” Your eyes shut, a small laugh bubbling from your lips. 

“Sorry about that by the way. It was gonna be a really good mule.” You both laughed together, feeling the tension slowly ease. “I wrote that letter when I knew I had feelings for you.” He nodded slowly, following along with your tale. 

A shuttered breath fell from your throat. “I’m not going to lie to you. I wrote that when I was hopelessly in love with you, Josh. I was nineteen. It was on that trip back home during the Christmas break of my sophomore year.” It dawned on him right then exactly what trip it was. 

“The kickback.” He breathed out. You flipped the envelope over, pulling the pieces of paper from it, unfolding and rereading the emotions you had felt tenfold when you wrote it. Everything rushing back to you then.

Joshua Michael Kiszka,

Oh, the brightest ball of sunshine that I have ever encountered and probably ever will. Do you know how much you light up a room when you enter it? You’ve done it since we were kids. Drawn all eyes to you. Pulling all the attention in a room straight to you. I am guilty of this. Of seeing you and only you. A spotlight if you will. 

I don’t know how else to explain this. How I’m feeling. The unexplainable, unmeasurable emotions that are erupting from deep within. Taking notice of my best friend’s older brother. The twin that I’ve always felt the strongest pull towards. That can have butterflies wrestling in my stomach with such a simple look. How you take care of me. Ensuring that I am always okay. No matter how far apart we are. How blind I’ve been, Josh. My sincerest apologies for not recognizing this sooner. Being preoccupied elsewhere. But not tonight. 

You kissed me tonight. 

The entire world faded away and in that moment it was just us. I wish it could remain that way for the rest of time together. We sat together at that kickback, bonfire roaring, but that wasn’t what kept me warm tonight. It was you. Your presence, your everloving persona. After having watched the show of a lifetime by you and your brothers, I thought it was just going to be like any other night. 

How wrong was I? Maybe it was the energy you had from the evening or maybe it was how you had been feeling for a long while. I never saw the looks you gave me until tonight, but you’ve always been there, haven’t you? I was just too dumb to see it. 

I love you, Josh. Forever yours. 

Belly

You couldn’t help but smile at the lovesick girl that wrote this. So overpowered by the emotions she had felt when the older brother kissed her. He had sat next to you on a log, asking you how you thought the show went. You two sat and talked for ages. About anything and everything. It happened in the blink of an eye. It was the way he looked at you and you looked at him. Like you were truly seeing him for the first time. 

Joshua.

“Do you still feel this way, belly?” His voice was nothing but a whisper. Not wanting to frighten you off. Buying you time to respond. Not needing an answer right away. Because Josh was never rushed. Never bothered by the wait. He continued on, still speaking low. “I’ve liked you for a long time. So long I can’t even think back to when it started. I-I didn’t know you felt the same otherwise I would’ve acted on it.”

When his eyes came back up and locked on yours, you went to answer, mouth opening to let sound out, but you heard your phone ding, drawing your attention to the cushion next to you that lit up. 

Little drummer boy- Attachment: 1 Image

Little drummer boy- Think we need to talk

Your mouth was gaping like a fish, trying to catch any air you possibly could. Feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack barreling through you, nausea surfacing, you moved back from Josh. Leaning forward, you placed your forehead against the tops of your thighs, nearly brushing against your knees, trying to will your breathing back to normal.

“Belly, what’s going on? Breathe, take a breath,” Josh’s hand caressed your back, rubbing soothing circles, trying to muster up the courage to tell him what happened. “Someone else got a letter,” you mumbled it out so quietly, he almost wasn’t sure you had spoken at all. 

He lightly chuckled, withdrawing his hand from your warm back to let you properly sit up. “What?” With your eyes still squeezed shut, you sat upright and let a shaky breath out. “Someone else got a letter,” it was choked out, opening your eyes as you finished to see his expression.

It was his turn to be surprised. Bushy brows near kissing on his face, a puzzled look adorning his handsome features. “Wait, what? There’s-there’s another letter?” Your eyes shot up to the ceiling as your head fell back. “Technically three, but only two are accounted for,” gnawing on your lip, you saw a smile starting to grace his face. 

“Wow, alright. Three, huh?” You nodded, playing with the skin on your fingernails as you dove into a word vomit of an explanation. “I’ve written a letter for every person I’ve ever been in love with. All at very different times in my life. It was the only way for me to express my feelings without actually saying something.” 

Taking in a large breath after you had finished, that signature lopsided smile, the shit eating grin that turned you into mush, adorned his lips. “Who's the others?” Rolling your eyes, you propelled up from the couch, trying to figure out how to respond to Danny’s message. Maybe don’t respond at all and you just won’t have to deal with it.

“Uh uh.” You murmured out, nearly downing your own cocktail in one swig. He followed you, hand gripping your wrist and turning you to face him. “All I’m saying is I deserve to know. Might be some competition here,” he laughed at the end, but when your head snapped up from your screen, color draining from your face, it hit you.

This was going to be bad. Not just for you, but for literally every single one of the boys. Josh was obviously showing interest in you, Danny was probably going to want to stay as far away from you as possible from now on, it was just going to be…weird. His face deadpanned, smile diminishing as he knew who got the other letter.

His eyes stared at his shoes, kicking an imaginary rock around your kitchen as he bit out the name, not sure what to do. “Danny, right?” His arms were behind his back, each hand holding the other wrist. Standing back up straight, his eyes locked with yours. 

Immediate devastation. Loss. Not even a fighting chance. 

“Josh-I. Yeah. He got one of them.” He shrugged, a knowing look taking over. “So, that’s it then, right?” You immediately shook your head, reaching a hand out for his. “No, no. I-just, this is a lot happening at once. Can-can I just have some time?” He perked back up instantly, leaning forward and placing the gentlest kiss you had ever received on your lower cheek, capturing the highest corner of your mouth.

Squeezing your hand, eyes bright. Excited. Hopeful.

“I’m here. Whenever you’re ready. I’ll always be here.” Josh left just a second after that. Your hands trembled, picking your phone back up and just staring at the message. The text bubble popped back up, disappearing, and then another message appeared. 

Little drummer boy- C’mon over belly doors unlocked

It took every ounce of courage you had to get in your car and drive over to his home. It was a short drive, only seven minutes from your apartment complex, but it felt like the longest drive you had ever experienced in your life. 

You weren’t ready to do this. To deal with the feelings you had been harboring for years. Since the day you met him. You could’ve vomited as you trudged up his front steps, hand grabbing the cool knob, opening the door as you got the sweeping comfort of his home.

A warm embrace. The smell of him lingered everywhere, the cologne you adored more than anything was on every surface. The lights were dim in the house, only some low lights on, music playing through the surround sound speakers. His back was to you as he stood in the kitchen. 

Clearing your throat, you were terrified your wavering voice would crack and break as you spoke to him. “Dan-danny?” He instantly turned and faced you, a large smile on his face as he nearly ran from the kitchen, sweeping you up in his embrace, crushing you to him.

Your laughter mixed with his, arms enclosing around his neck, the long curls covering your arms. “Belly! God I missed you,” he placed a large kiss to the side of your head, placing you back on the floor, arms not removing from you as he did. “Hey yourself,” you still were giggling at his over excitement. 

His large hands came up, cradling both sides of your jaw, eyes squinted as his smile took over his face. Smushing your cheeks together, he was reluctant to let you go, but you batted his hands away with a laugh. Your eyes immediately fell to the counter where it sat. Waiting.

Gaze following yours, his lips sucked back into his mouth, hands tucking into the tight pockets of his dark jeans.  “I’m so sorry, Danny. I-I don’t know how it got to you, who sent it, I-I just have no clue.” You were speaking quietly, eyes not being able to pull away from the torn top of the letter. 

He motioned to his living room, grabbing the letter as you both made your way to the couch. You sat far from him. Not wanting to make this any more uncomfortable then it had to be. Playing with the envelope in his hands, his eyes remained stuck on it. You weren’t even sure where to start. Not with Danny.

“I wrote that letter when I was seventeen. It was-was never supposed to be seen by anybody, especially you. That letter was the only way I could channel all of those feelings into some sort of outlet. I had-had been feeling that way for so long,” he cut you off as you spoke, “Since we first met.” His eyes cut up to yours, swallowing thickly at his intense stare.

You couldn’t speak. Wanting to deny it, but you literally couldn’t. He had the proof right there in his hands. Instead you just nodded. Danny tossed the letter onto the coffee table in front of him, hands coming up to rub harshly at his face. A frustrated sigh turned groan leaving him as he tried to gather his thoughts. 

“Belly, I didn’t-had I-I’m sorry.” You couldn’t look at him, see the pure anger. Disappointment. All of it painting his face. “No, I know you didn’t. Please don’t apologize. It-it was years ago. All in the past.” Finding the fuzz on your leggings of more interest, you picked it off, a pained laugh bubbling from your throat, trying to ease the seriousness of this. 

In the blink of an eye, Danny was sitting right next to you, shaking his head fervently at your words. “No, oh my god, belly no. I didn’t mean-I just meant I didn’t know you felt that way. I didn’t want to create some crazy idea in my head that couldn’t be lived up to, you know what I mean? You were-are so out of my league, I never thought.” He trailed off at the end, leaving you absolutely speechless. 

Not offering any more words, Danny continued on. “You’re an amazing person, belly. That’s why I never tried more with you. I don’t take rejection very well and had things not worked or you said no, it would’ve made things bad. I’m sorry.” As Danny poured his entire heart out and all the qualms he’d been facing, all your mind could think of was Josh.

How despite not noticing him in that way, seeing the pure joy that crossed his face every time he saw you, he did exactly that. Saw you. Looked at you the way you wanted. How a small portion of your stomach still flipped when you thought of his toothy grin. The same way the other half of your tummy would erupt in nerves when Danny would laugh. 

“There’s other letters.” You finally blurted out. He halted, trying to understand what you meant. “I wrote one for each person I ever fell in love with. You were one, there’s another one I’m not entirely sure if it was sent, and-” you paused, trying to muster the courage to just be honest with him, “and the other went to Josh.” Your voice was whisper quiet at the end, on the edge of your seat to see his reaction. 

Standing from his spot on the couch, your neck craned back to watch him. His hands went to his hips, beginning to think out loud. “Josh Josh?” You nodded, not wanting to speak anymore and have this spiral out of control. “You have feelings for him?”

You responded quickly, wanting to set this straight. “Had! I mean,” you took in a deep breath, somehow on your feet, but not recalling when you too had stood up, “I don’t know. There's a lot happening right now and these were written so long ago and a long time apart. Different times of my life.” 

Trying to get your point across was only further confusing the boy. “Well, now you’re here. At this point in your life. Belly, how do you feel now? You-your letter says you have always had feelings for me. What happened to where it shifted to Josh? What did I do?” His eyes were wild, not focusing on anything as his mind raced a mile a minute, hands moving around like crazy.

You scoffed at his question, seeming as though the answer was blaringly obvious. “You never showed interest in me, Danny. I moved on. I had to move on from the childhood crush that had taken over my life. I couldn’t waste any more time sitting there love sick over you.” His eyes grew glassy as he stared at you from across the room. 

Head falling downcast, he nodded his head. “It’s Josh then, right?” Babbling incoherently, you crossed your arms over your chest, observing his movements. Body rigid with nerves, waiting for your response. “No. I don’t know right now.”

He crossed the room, hands taking your elbows and pulling you towards him, removing your hands from your biceps and enclosing in his. “Give me a chance, bells. A chance to just-just make this right. Fix what I fucked up.” Your eyes were wide, feeling him peer into you. 

Seeing you.

Slowly nodding your head, his hands moved from yours, one slipping under your hair, cupping around the back of your neck, the other landing on your hip, he tilted your head down. Your hands stayed limp at your sides, not sure what to do at this moment as his lips landed softly on your forehead, then your hairline, bringing you closer to him and simply holding you. Just for a moment. 

You left Danny’s house that night and as soon as you got back to your apartment, you began wracking your brain for how those letters could have possibly been sent out. The FaceTime call dial echoed in the quiet house, both of them picking up at the same time.

“Who did it?” You immediately spoke out, anger coursing through your veins, nearly quivering. Neither responded, so you pressed again. Still not a response. “Belly, can you please clarify?” Sam finally spoke. 

Jaw setting, a small tick being heard which meant your jaw had in fact locked just momentarily, you talked through gritted teeth. “The. Letters. Who sent them?” When Sam and Marcy both snorted through the speaker, you wanted to throw your phone at the wall as though it would actually harm them in the moment. 

“We both did. You’re welcome by the way.” Marcy said through giggles. You feigned a laugh, a simple ha ha falling from you, directing your attention solely to Sam. “Oh yeah, real good idea guys. Hey, Sammy?” He hummed in response, eyes finally looking at the screen for the first time. 

You gave a sarcastic grin, obviously not entertained with this. “Do you know who those letters were for?” He shook his head, closing his eyes, and speaking. “No, of course not. I didn’t want to invade your privacy like that.” 

Nodding with a laugh to match theirs, still not sincere, you decided it was time to pop his bubble. Pull him from the high and mighty spot he held himself in. “Well, only two of the three have been noted. Both sent to your brothers. Remember Danny and Josh?” 

Watching as his smile fell from his face, a mixture of shock and anger morphed his features. “What?” You continued with the faux smile plastered on your mouth. “Yup. It gets better! Josh showed up at my apartment, told me he had strong feelings for me and at the exact moment he’s telling me that I get a notification from Danny that he got his! Head over to his place and guess what? He too has feelings for me. Now, I turn to you two. What the fuck do I do?” 

Your smile had entirely fallen at the end, shouting into the speaker at the pair who both sat in utter silence. Sam tossed his phone onto a nearby surface, a loud groan echoing through his home before he picked it up, deadpanned once more as he eyed you. 

“Decide now. Who is it?” You shake your head, not even wanting to deal with that yet. A small giggle bubbles from the back of your throat, soon collapsing into a heap of laughter. The entire absurdity of the situation smacking you across the face. 

It wasn’t long before the two others joined you, wiping tears that spilled from the corners of their eyes. “Well, belly, I don’t think you can say that there aren’t any good guys interested in you anymore. Now you have two to choose from.”

You left the phone call at that. This entire thing was absolutely ridiculous. Both of these boys whom you had admittedly fallen in love with over the course of many years who had never shown true interest in you now both vying for you. What the fuck were you supposed to do?

Ignoring texts and phone calls for the next few days only proved futile enough until Sam begged you to come to the studio and listen to their newest album. He claimed the finishing touches had been done except for one final song, but that he was finally ready for you to hear it. The ramifications of the problem didn’t hit you until you stepped foot into the studio and both of their eyes set upon you. 

Honestly, you had mainly forgotten about it to the best of your ability. Shoving it to the furthest, darkest corner of your brain only worked momentarily until you locked eyes with Josh. A large smile broke across his face, dimples sinking into his chiseled cheeks, the tiniest, miniscule of a gap showcased only when he smiled like this was out. Your heart race increased tenfold. 

Not able to maintain eye contact, your head swiveled to see the other twin pull you into a side embrace, leading you out to sit in a chair and truly take in the magic he was about to play for you. Once you sat in your designated chair, your eyes scanned the room for Sam, but almost instinctively found Danny.

Cleaning up his area of the studio, grabbing his belongings, and turning around, his laser focused gaze fell to you. Neither of you made a move to smile, breath catching in your throat, not daring to blink first, only feeling the intensity of the stare. To break it, you offered a small wave. A total dork move, but it was all you had. It did the trick. He broke out into a large grin, waving back as his cheeks tinted ever so slightly. 

Snapping your attention back to the sound board, Sam began playing it in the proposed order that he and Jake fought over for months, according to the elder brother. Sitting and listening as intently as possible, you could see how proud they truly were of this album. Their newest baby to the bunch.

A beaming smile broke across your face as the music came to an end. “It’s amazing, guys. Really, like holy shit. I’m literally buzzing. Look, my hand is shaking!” They fell into laughter and conversation about your deeper thoughts, the messages they were trying to send, if you had even gotten them to begin with. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Josh approached you, hands stuffed into his pockets, a tint creeping upon the apples of his cheeks, head downcast as his brothers all filed out of the room. “Hey, belly,” you bit back a laugh at how incredibly nervous he seemed to be by just trying to talk to you. 

“Hey, Josh.” He took the seat that his twin had just been in, leaning onto his knees and staring at you. His wide eyes glistened in the lower light of the studio. You found yourself getting lost in them, the endless swirls of deep chocolate and honey hues colliding together, solely focused on what was in front of him. You. 

He cleared his throat, nearly tripping over his words as he played with his hands, clearly nervous to even be bringing this up to you. “So-so, I was won-wondering if maybe I can take you out this week? Like dinner, activity, whatever you want,” his hopefulness seeped into every word. You chuckled at him, leaning back in your chair and made a show of thinking it over. 

“Activity, huh? What kind of activity we talking about?” He could easily tell you were poking fun at him, rolling his eyes, the tension he held in his shoulders dissipating as you spoke. His own laughter fell into his response. “Laying it all out there I was hoping to get you home and do some adult activities, but only after mini golf.” 

Your head tipped back a cackle shaking your throat, eyes closed as you tried to catch your breath. “I appreciate the honesty. How about we start with the mini golf and see where the night goes?” He feigned a scoff, acting insulted that you would shut him down so blatantly. “Well, if that’s all I’m gonna get, then I guess.” 

His hands reached forward, taking yours into his, and rubbed his thumb soothingly along the backs of your hands. Your giggles slowly subsided as his touch grounded you back down. “Friday at eight?” You said through the biggest smile you had mustered up all week. A true, genuine, heartfelt grin that only Josh could bring out. One that was only ever accompanied by the stomach aching laughter he induced. 

Eagerly nodding, he leaned ever so slightly forward, lips dusting across your cheek. You didn’t miss the quiver of his lips that he silently prayed you didn’t notice. The way his soft mustache tickled the smooth skin as it made contact. How incredibly warm his lips were as they met you, leaving a searing memory in its wake. 

Giving your hands a slight squeeze, you finally felt like you could catch your breath as he separated from you. Instantly missing the comfort his touch offered you. Friday at eight. Two days to prep. 

It wasn’t enough.

As you finished getting dressed, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, entirely flabbergasted that you were about to go out on a date. With Josh. Actually going out on an adult date with Josh. The more you dwelled on it, the more the tremor in your hands became a full fledged shake. Nearly jumping out of your skin as a knock on your door echoed through your apartment. 

Trembling hands attempting to fix the slightly smeared lipstick as you called out to him that you’d be there in a second. Rushing over to the door when deciding that your look was about as good as it was going to get, you pulled the door open. 

His cheeks had to ache, you thought to yourself. Constantly being pulled so tightly with how large of a smile was almost always on his face. It never seemed to phase or bug him at all. It was like that was where it was meant to be. How he was permanently supposed to look. 

When your actual name fell from his lips, you felt your stomach flip on itself, feeling the shake leave your hands but find home in your knees instead. “You-just yeah, wow, okay.” He couldn’t seem to settle on the correct verbage to truly describe how amazing you looked. His brain was running on hyperspeed, but his mouth could never seem to catch up. Instead, he fumbled over his words, feeling his temperature continuously rise the more he fucked up.

“I’m going to take that as a good sign,” you breathed out with a laugh. Only able to nod, curled due bobbing with him, you took his outstretched hand and let him lead you to whatever he had in store for the night. 

You had thought about this more often than you would have liked to admit. What it would be like going on a date with Josh. Sitting on your bedroom floor, mindlessly thinking about what it would even look like. It was nearly unbelievable that you were sat out at an incredibly nice restaurant with him, trying to stifle your uncontrollable howls as he told you story after story about their tour. 

Being slightly tipsy from the cocktails that never seemed to be fully empty before a new one was placed on the table, you were sure you had nearly drunk their entire drink menu. The food was some of the best you had ever had, candlelight filled the table space, the rest of the venue almost entirely dark, really playing into the romantic feel. 

Stomach aching from too many drinks to count and never ending giggles, you were on cloud nine. This was what you had been missing. What you had been craving since you were a lovesick teenager. 

Josh. 

“Well, Joshua, you have wined and dined me quite well. Is the evening coming to a close or is there something else on our agenda?” He slipped his credit card in the billfold that had been placed on the table by the waiter, not even bothering to peek at the check, eyebrows wiggling suggestively at you. “How’s that competitive streak in you feeling?”

Eyebrows raising at his question, tongue poking into your cheek, you were trying to bite back your growing smirk. “Ready to kick your ass at whatever you throw my way.” Perhaps the liquid luck you had been chugging all evening was making you bolder than normal. Maybe it was just the comfort of being with someone you had known your entire life. Either way, all you wanted to do was continue the night, not nearly ready for it to come to a close just yet.

He read your mind. In the way only Josh could. Knowing what you wanted before you even knew. It’s why he was leaned against the pinball machine as your score continuously climbed, trying to play off that he was irritated with the way you demolished his previous score. He couldn’t be annoyed with you. 

It was physically impossible in Josh’s mind. Honestly, since you had entered his life as a young child, he had never been annoyed with your presence. There was something about you that had him clinging to you. Never wanting to separate, but always terrified to try and take the next step towards something more. Josh liked to pretend he was a confident person. In truth, he wasn’t at all. You all knew this about him, it was one of the traits you adored.

That even as he grew up, morphing into this stage presence that was a force to be reckoned with, he still remained the humble and shy Josh you had known your whole life. Still scared to look in your eyes for longer than absolutely necessary. Shaky hands battling about grabbing your palm into his. Playing every scenario before it happened. 

Safety. 

Yet on nights like this, it was like it always was. Drunk at a local arcade, faces flushed, out of breath as you played every game you could to try and beat the other. Flashbacks to your time in your home town at the rundown arcade that you all frequented because there really wasn’t much else to do around there.

As you all grew older, underage drinking to make the night more fun was a right of passage. Sneaking liquor from anyone's parents' cabinets to make the evening more interesting. Now that you were well past the legal drinking age, things still hadn’t changed. 

You were still standing at the skeeball game, dexterity way off as Josh hustled to throw as many balls as he possibly could to beat you. Even as off as you were, you were still beating him by hundreds. When his eyes skirted over to glimpse at your astronomical score, he scoffed.

Snatching every ball from your hands despite your minimal effort to keep hold of them, he grabbed all of his as well, climbing up the small runway to get better access to the holes, dropping all of the balls into the highest score. 

“Cheater! Fre-freaking cheater!” Josh climbed down as one of the employees yelled across the floor for him to get down from the game, shrugging with an all knowing smirk as the tickets cascaded out from the machine, hands on his hips. “Don’t be je-jealous that you didn’t think of it first.” 

Overtly rolling your eyes, you watched as the tickets continued coming, pouting slightly. “I don’t need to cheat to beat you. I’m pure raw talent, babes.” As you spoke, his gaze never left you, entirely enamored with your aura that naturally radiated when you were full of pure joy. It was like it encompassed you and all around you, touching and grazing those surrounding you. 

His hands mindlessly touched his mala beads, trying to ground him back to reality. Blinking rapidly as your eyes fell to him, contentedness flowed from your head to your toes, instantly relaxing and feeling the rigidity of your nervous system release. 

“Would you-do you want to get out of here?” His eyes had narrowed ever so slightly, noticing the miniscule shift of his pupils widening, hands leaving his pockets and offering you one. Swallowing thickly, you nodded, never having felt so sure of a decision in your life. 

The second you were back at Josh’s house, he wasn’t in a rush. He took his time walking around his home, flicking lights on as he went. You trailed him like a lost dog, not sure where he wanted you or what was really happening. 

When he finally turned around, facing you, a lazy smirk graced his lips. “Alright, gorgeous. Come here,” you instantly traveled to him. Your hands rested on his waist, right above his pants, the warmth from his stomach sweltering against your hands. 

His hands caressed your cheeks, meeting you halfway as his plush lips pushed on yours. It was slow, sensual, deep. His hands moved further up, having your strands of hair flow between his knuckles. Yet, he didn’t tug or pull, barely offering a light massage to your scalp.

Eyes fluttering at the movement, it felt heavenly as his nails scratched along your scalp. Never breaking the kiss, your tongue explored every crevice of his parted mouth. Wanting to commit every inch of him to memory. 

Your hands bunched his shirt, hands making small fists as you did. As your breathing grew shallower, he pulled back much to your dismay. Josh removed his hands from your hair, taking your hand in his and silently leading you towards his room down the hallway.

The candles he had lit when you arrived home were burning, flickering against the darkness that drenched the room. Josh sat on his bed, hooded eyes peering up at your figure that towered over him in the moment. 

It was a silent question, asking if you wanted to continue on with this. Your hands enclosed around his, leading them to the hem of your dress. He took the invitation, removing it from you and gawking at what stood before him entirely nude.

No undergarments were worn tonight, much to the shock of Josh. His mouth was gaping like a fish, eyes blown wide. Wider than his normal astronomical size. His erection straining against the tightness of his pants.

His cold hands found the dip in your waist, tugging you towards him. Pressing gentle, featherlight kisses to your rib cage, dancing dangerously close to the underside of your breast. 

Your head fell back, hands tangling into the lush hair at the nape of his neck, his lips finally reaching where you were on the verge of begging him to get to.

Moistened lips brushed over your hardened nipples, eliciting a strong gasp from you. Desperate for anything he would give you, just wanting to be touched. With your eyes still squeezed shut, his mouth enclosed around your nipple, sucking it in between his teeth.

A choked moan echoed out into the room, fingers tightening around the hair you had in your grasp. Josh’s hand roamed your body, starting at your waist, but quickly trailing further. 

Fingertips brushed against your mound, your hips bucking at the motion. Eyes opening and giving him a pleading look, he quickly dipped his fingers between your soaked lips.

His own eyes fell shut when he felt the arousal that coated your pussy, making a sticky mess of his hand. He didn’t give a single damn, it was the sexiest thing he had ever felt in his life. 

Still suckling at your breast, every so often switching between tits, his fingers made steady work of your clit. Rubbing tight circles on the nub, your hips jerking to meet his movements. 

Your breathy moans were continuously falling from your lips, fingernails digging into the taut muscle of his shoulders. No words were uttered between you two as you reached your first finish of the evening.

Knees nearly giving out beneath you, he rode you threw it before gently leading you to the mattress. You laid flat, instantly letting your legs fall open, displaying yourself for him to admire. 

Admire he did. Awestruck at the gorgeous women, patiently waiting for his next move, whatever he wanted or needed to do. Watching every move he made, he undressed for you. Not making a show of the action, but knowing that you were intently observing him.

As his boxer briefs came down, your lips were slightly parted. You didn’t even care that you were so blatantly staring at him because all you could think about was how desperately you wanted him in you.

Josh nodded at you, his own hand wrapping around his length. “Touch yourself.” You stuck two fingers into your mouth, wetting them before trailing them down your body, setting onto your sensitive clit.

Your free hand kneaded at your breast, pinching your nipple between your fingers. Josh stroked himself, eyes wild with lust as he groaned, watching your fingers sink into your slit. 

“Josh, I ne-need,” you were stumbling over your words, not able to form an actual sentence. He encouraged you to continue, the sounds of his movements amplified. “What do you need, pretty girl? Hmm, what do you need?” 

It was genuine, him asking. Your eyes opened, taking in the godly sight of his naked frame, stroking himself, watching you in this erotic position.

“Fuck me. Please,” you didn’t have a millisecond to prepare because he was on you. Eyes on his cock, tip swollen and glistening with precum, he breached your entrance. Your stiffened body went lax, fully resting back on the mattress as he sank inch by inch. 

When he reached the base, his body spasmed. Feeling like you were choking on air, Josh started his pace, trying to get his bearings. You had no idea how long he had been fucking you, but at some point it came to an end.

No recollection of the finish for either of you, you could feel the remnants of your orgasm in your muscles. As Josh pulled you into his embrace, you fell asleep far too fast, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care that the sheets were near soaking wet. 

You were left shell shocked. The entire experience had rattled you to your core. It was meeting an entirely different person and version of Josh. An intimate sector that was only reserved for an incredibly select few that he deemed worthy enough of meeting. It was a being you would never tire of encountering. You wanted to remain in his embrace for as long as possible. 

Instead, your meet and greet was cut short when his phone rang. Duty calls and as you clambered out of his bed, redressed, and let him tug you into a gentle reminder of what had happened the night before, you trekked home. 

Literally walking on air. That was how you could describe the following days. A changed woman after the memorable first date with Josh. One that you would cherish for the rest of your life. Having him treat you like an absolute goddess, worshiping you like you could alter the course of the universe if you truly wanted to. 

It was empowering.

Daily texts and calls from him riddled your phone, igniting a fire in your belly whenever he would pop up on your screen. Letting you know that he was thinking of you. That you were truly all he could think about. Having hexed him in some way to not let his thoughts alter to anything other than you. It was driving him wild. He needed more. 

You wanted more. Craved more. But he would have to wait just a bit longer. Because Danny was standing in your doorway, capturing any and all breath from your lungs as you peered up at him, taking in the sheer size of the man. He entirely dwarfed the door. 

Intimidating. 

The bowl of grapes in your hand became loose, nearly letting the porcelain fall to the floor. You had no idea how long you two stood there, taking one another in before you snapped to your senses and began scuttering about. 

“Hi-hi! I’m sorry, come in come in. Let me just-” you went to set the bowl down, but turned on your heel and faced the boy, “Do you want some grapes? They’re the cotton candy ones from Trader Joes.” He was fighting a smirk, observing how flustered and nervous you were in his presence. 

Shaking his head, perfect curls moving with him, his eyes never left your figure as it waltzed around the room. Obviously avoiding close contact with him. “No, I’m good. Thank you though.” You had already put the grapes back in the fridge before he could even respond, simply trying to busy yourself. 

After organizing the stack of mail on the counter in front of you, your eyes finally met his again and beamed a nervous smile. “What can I do you for?” It was adorable how jittery you were. Watching as the slight shake in your hands was nearly masked by the continuous movement, but he caught it. 

Leaning on the counter, both of his incredibly large hands holding onto the other forearm, you could smell the coconut of his curling cream, the dizzying musk of his cologne. It had you unbelievably flustered. “I’m taking you out.” 

Only able to blink back at him, a blank expression decorating your face, you didn’t know how to respond. “Is this your way of asking me?” You finally choked out, a small laugh following. 

Nodding and standing back up to his full height, your eyes followed him. “Yes. Friday or Saturday? You get that choice.” He winked at you, clearly teasing, but it had you biting your cheek. Wanting to give a smart ass response, you swallowed it down. 

Speaking through mainly gritted teeth, your eyes met his. “Saturday night works,” he instantly turned and walked back to your front door, leaving it at that. You called out after him, jaw nearly hitting the floor as he opened your front door, halfway out.

“This could’ve been a text!” He leaned back in, not turning to face you, but looked upon you like you were certified crazy. “And miss seeing my girl? Absolutely not. Saturday at nine, I’ll pick you up.” 

My girl. 

The words sat heavy on you for the remainder of the week until the day had arrived. Keeping the facts to yourself about seemingly dating both of them at the same time, you stared at the pile of clothes on your bed. 

You had texted Danny and asked him what the attire of the night was. Honestly, you had been slightly underdressed for Josh’s evening out and you didn’t want a repeat of that. All he had responded with was casual. 

What the hell? It was so vague. Offering no sense of direction whatsoever. You knew Danny’s usual garb shifted from muscle tanks and skinny jeans to looking like he had just stepped out of a 1980’s romcom, sweater and light wash jeans adorned. 

It was a tossup. So, you went with what you knew. Casual, comfortable, what you tend to wear on a daily basis. You hit the nail on the head because when you opened the door for Danny, he stood there with a combination of his attire. 

Dark wash skin tight jeans, a sweater, vintage sneakers, and sunglasses perched atop his head despite the late hour. His hair styled absolutely perfect. A light smudge of eyeliner. A rockstar stood before you ready to take you out on a date. 

Anxious.

“C’mon pretty girl, we have a reservation to make.” He offered his arm to you which you gladly took to steady yourself on jello legs, but you grabbed on to solid muscle. Muscle that had never been there before and you weren’t expecting to be there hidden beneath the bulky contents of his sweater. 

Your widened eyes peered up at him, unable to stop the words before they left your mouth. “Since when are you so-so ripped?” His piercing gaze smoldered through your own. “All I do is work out my arms every single day for hours on end.” 

Forcing yourself to remain cool and like those simple words hadn’t nearly turned you to absolute mush, you knew your next move would set the course for the night. Shrugging, you looked away towards the elevator doors that were bound to open any second. “I liked it better when you were scrawny.” The doors opened as you finished, letting his arm go and stepping into the elevator, looking at him with a disinterested, unimpressed look. 

He shook his head as he followed you in, a shocked laugh falling from his lips as he stood directly next to you, arm brushing your own. “Oh, belly. Same snarky attitude as always, huh?”

Danny was a dirty dirty liar. This place absolutely did not need a reservation. There wasn’t even a host. It was a seat yourself establishment, if you could call it that, which left peanut shells sticking to the bottoms of your shoes as you walked towards a high top table with your date. 

Being the true gentleman he is, he pulled the metal chair out, the screech hardly being heard over the loud music bouncing off the walls. The place was jammed, you were honestly surprised there was even a table open. He handed you the menu which had already been waiting on the table, and pointed at his suggestion. 

“We’re going to get two of those. They’re the best burger you’ll ever have in your life. They make their own potato chips in house or you can get their curly fries-” he spoke so easily, eyeing the singular menu as he spoke, leaning in unbearably close to you, “Oh, Sheryl!” The older waitress rolled her eyes at the source of the yell.

She walked over to the table, slapping down her notepad and squeezing Danny’s hand. “Was wondering when I’d see this troublemaker again. Hi, honey. A pitcher and two phat jack burgers?” Danny confirmed, looking over to you and seeing the smirk forming on your lips as you side eyed him.

When she asked about the side, his eyes didn’t leave yours, eyebrows raising in question, silently asking you what you wanted. The smile continued to grow on your face as you gave a small shrug, hands coming up in silent surrender. Danny turned back to the waitress who you now knew was Sheryl and said one curly fries one chips.

As she left, he leaned back in his chair and gave a bright smile. “That way you can try both.” Your smile couldn’t leave your face as you moved closer to the table and chuckled. “Very considerate of you.”

A comfortable silence fell over you both as you took in the pub he had taken you to. It was very dim, the only lighting really came from the hundreds of Christmas lights that adorned the scaffolding and were stapled to the walls. Peanut shells littered the floor, not allowing any of the actual flooring to be visible. The walls held many posters of every genre of music you could think of, movies from each decade, photos of random strangers who would take the time to paste up their own memory. There were many tables, some high tops, others actual low tables that could seat as few as one to as many as an entourage. An actual bar sat against the middle wall that was packed with people. Music carried through the building. 

Sheryl snapped you back to the moment when she slapped down a large pitcher of beer, two chilled mugs, and a bucket of peanuts. She didn’t utter another word as she turned and went towards another table that called out for her attention. 

“Okay, what do you think?” Danny asked as he poured the honey colored liquid into the glasses, sliding one in your direction before grabbing a handful of peanuts and unshelling them. You followed his motions, trying to eye him as discreetly as you could. “It’s nice.” He rolled his eyes as he took a swig, slamming the mug onto the table.

“You gotta give me more than that! Really, what’s your first impression?” You giggled as you popped a couple peanuts in your mouth, drinking from your ice cold glass and took just a moment to truly look. 

The multicolored lights highlighted his black locks. Beaming since you had entered and taking a table so easily, you knew he frequented here often. His entire vibe was as relaxed as possible. Not feeling the need to do too much. They even knew him by name and his exact order. He almost faded into the background of the restaurant. Like this place was built for him. 

“It’s…you.” Your hands were wrapped around your mug, feeling the chill of the glass burn into your hands. His eyes didn’t part from yours for just a beat too long, cheeks tinting just lightly at your words. Knowing they were a compliment. Watching as his eyes fell down towards the table, his face contorted. 

Matching where his eyes now rested, you watched as his hand reached out and swiped the peanut shells off the table and onto the floor. “I brought you here to my place, now act like you belong for god's sake.” Your mouth fell open at his joking tone, laughter shaking your body at him. “Hey!”

He chugged from his glass, eyes glittering with something you couldn’t quite place. It remained that way the rest of the night. You haven't the faintest idea how much beer you had drunk with Danny, but it was the best beer you had ever had. When Sheryl had come back and placed down the biggest burger you had ever seen in your life, Danny nodded enthusiastically at your reaction.

Between the chortling that left your sides aching from stories shared, feeling like you were literally going to explode from the amount you had eaten, and the light buzz from the beer, it was a fantastic night. All nerves had dissipated the moment things had shifted. To where you felt like you were sitting in the garage with Danny again. Going back to the roots of your friendship. 

Danny.

“You better finish it! C’mon that’s like two more bites max. Finish it, they don’t have to-go boxes.” He was cackling between his words, mouth stuffed with food as he pointed to your plate. Groaning but following his orders, you stuffed the last of the burger into your mouth despite every urge telling you to spit it out. 

When you swallowed, with the help of another mouthful of beer, Danny cheered. His arms shot up, napkin in hand being thrown before they came back down and beat on the table in celebration, whooping and cheering. Collapsing back in your chair, your hands cradled your too full stomach. 

Sheryl came over as you giggled, Danny about to talk again, but halted his sentence as she spoke. “Well, I was going to offer a to-go box, but looks like you were able to get it all down.” She grabbed the now empty plate from in front of you as you shot daggers at your date. 

“You fucking liar!” Not able to keep your serious face, a massive grin broke out as he laughed his ass off. Music to your ears. Having been deprived of it for too long, chershing the sound as it washed over you in waves. Danny left cash on the table, hopping down from his seat, not missing a beat as he took your hand in his and quickly led you out. 

The cool evening air squashed the rising temperature your body had endured from the hot stifled air of the bar. Your eyes drifted shut, taking in a deep breath, still being dragged by the tall boy. Your fingers laced together with his, beginning to walk around the vibrant downtown night scene you had never seen before.

“Where are we?” You finally asked, looking around and trying to get your bearings. He took in a deep breath, a small smile breaking across his face. Prideful of the little piece of a haven he had scouted. “We are in a town a bit over from where we call home. I refuse to share the name because it is my spot and I don’t need you going home and blasting it around to everyone.” 

Tilting your chin down and halting in your spot, your eyes narrowed. “You know that all I have to do is check the weather on my phone and it’ll give me the exact location.” Danny scooted closer to you, bending over, coming nose to nose with you. “Ah, but I know you wouldn’t do that. Not my belly girl.” 

It took every ounce of strength you had to turn away from him, his lips having been millimeters from your own. It would’ve been so easy to just hardly lean forward and capture your own with his. Danny wanted to more than anything, but couldn’t fight off the smile that broke across his face as you quickly turned and continued walking, leaving him as still as a statue.

Turning when you realized he hadn’t moved, your face looked at him expectantly. “Well, come on! Show me around,” you rolled your eyes, a smile hidden on your lips as Danny slowly walked over to you. His arm circled around your waist, tugging you into his side as he continued walking you around the vibrant downtown. 

As the night dwindled down, Danny’s car sat in the twenty minute guest parking spot in front of your building as he walked you back to your home. Both of you tried to keep your clearly tipsy giggles on a lower volume given the incredibly late hour for the decency of your neighbors. When you stood in front of your door, your lazy smile greeted Danny as your neck lightly tipped back to truly keep eye contact. 

The hand that held yours ever so slightly squeezed your warm hand, your free one made the journey from your side to the back of Danny’s neck. Landing on the smooth skin, under the thick locks, you brought him down to meet you for the first time. The second his lips brushed against your own, you felt the air get zapped from your lungs.

A gasp emitted from you as his arms circled around your waist, pulling you towards him as the kiss grew deeper, needy. Back arching into his firm torso, both arms now wrapped around his neck, wanting him as close as possible. When you parted, both breathing heavy, pupils blown out, your hands cradled his face. Pushing the locks from his porcelain skin, features sharper than ever, the tremble in your hands was nonexistent. 

“Do you-do you wanna come in?” It was spoken so softly that it passed from your lips directly into his. Instead of a vocal response, he closed the gap between you both again. The sloppy kiss had you gasping for air as your front door flew open, Danny shoving you against the wall, lips attacking your neck.

Hardly able to catch your breath, you spoke through pants. “Dan-Danny. Ca-car. Your car,” he only hummed, bringing his mouth back to yours and effectively shut you up. “Twenty minute parking,” you mumbled against him. 

Shaking his head, his larger hands threaded through your locks, tugging your head back with a low moan emitting from you. “Let them fucking tow it,” his hands moved to land under your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh, giving you your next move. 

As you hopped, he caught you with ease. Your hands clawed at his sweater, removing it as quickly as you could. He didn’t even try to make it to your room, instead landing you on the couch. Not parting, he leaned down with you, only momentarily breaking to get you both fully undressed.

It was a mess of limbs and skin, teeth biting any flesh they could sink into, not wanting to wait another minute. He practically impaled you on his cock, knocking the wind from you. Holding onto his shoulders, he set a punishing pace.

You were on the verge of screaming into the room, not giving a damn about your neighbors. His thrusts so deep and hard that your couch was shifting with every move he made. In no time at all, your couch hit the wall, thumping into it as he continued on.

His thumb pushed down on your clit, a bead of spit falling from his lips to the nub, causing you to gutturally moan at the sight. The coil in your stomach snapped with no warning, no massive build up, it just happened.

Blinding you, you felt a rush of liquid leave your cunt, Danny almost, almost, stopping at the sight. “Holy fuck you just-,” you couldn’t even begin to form an understanding of what he was trying to say. 

He pulled out of you seconds later, releasing over your bare chest, stroking himself through his finish. Your eyes connected with his, your finger dipping into the seed and lifting it to your mouth. Danny moaned, grabbing you by the back of the neck and smashing his lips to yours in a greedy, possessive meeting. 

Catching your breath, your legs wobbled, entirely unsteady as he led you to your room. Sparing a glance back to the couch, you saw the monstrous wet spot that you left in your wake. 

He had made you squirt. You didn’t even know you could do that. His eyes followed where yours laid and tugged your arm to get your attention back to him. “Think you can do it again?” Determination set on his beautiful face. 

What is the next step in life when your dreams come true? No, really. What the hell are you actually supposed to do? Both of these men who you had fawned over, dreamed over, ached over had displayed themselves to you in ways you couldn’t even imagine. Your heart was bleeding from the amount of emotion it had taken in just a few weeks' span. At insanely different points in your life you had really dreamt of what your world and life would be like if you were involved with them. Now that you actually were, you had no idea what to do. 

Possibilities of extremely varying degrees laid before you with whatever choice you were destined to make. Right now, though, you weren’t having to make that choice. No, right now you were able to enjoy them both and see what they were going to be for you. The split road and its calling decision would come later. Just not now. 

Because right now you were tangled in Josh’s sheets that smelled like patchouli and lavender, his warm hands trailing along the bare skin that writhed beneath him after another night spent together. The calm, content smile that permanently seemed to be stitched to your face around Josh, greeted him as he finally approached you after traveling the expanse of your body. 

“Hello gorgeous,” he mumbled as he connected to your lips, facial hair tickling you as he did. Your hands left the tangled sheets, getting lost in his extremely messy hair, pulling him closer to you as you did. “Mmm, hi,” it was breathless and tired, having just woken up minutes ago. 

His rosy cheeks were full from the large grin on his face. Laying himself on top of you, it was like a weighted blanket encompassing you. Lips landed on your chest, arms, shoulder, neck, jaw, anywhere he could reach. “You’re so beautiful, you know that, belly?” Heat rose at his words, your hands cradling his jaw as his eyes bore into yours. 

“Take me to breakfast,” you murmured as you kissed his cheek. His body shook with laughter, propelling himself up from the bed, nude body on full display as he walked to the restroom. When he emerged fully dressed, hair not even slightly tamed, he watched as you dressed yourself. 

Two arms closed around you from behind, lips chillingly close to your ear as he all but moaned into it. “Or how about I go make a piece of toast, you get back into that bed, and we carry over last night's activities into today. Hmm, how does that sound, pretty mama?” You almost gave in, weighing the option given to you, but you rolled your eyes at the pet name, shrugging his arms off of you.

“Nearly had me there up until the Elvis impersonation.” His hands landed on his hips, staring at you with a puzzled look. One thumb brushed his full bottom lip, entirely too confused at your reaction. “Really? That doesn’t work for you? Typically girls are falling over themselves when I say that.”

Narrowing your eyes to slits, pointing a shoe in his direction, you spoke with a cautionary tone for him. “Watch yourself, pretty boy. Skating on thin ice,” his eyes lit up at your words, a realization dawning on him at your reaction.

Tsking, you watched his demeanor shift, waking something up deep in your lower belly. “Ah, that’s what it is,” his voice had gone down an octave, approaching you, one hand gently cupping your cheek as he peered at you, a slight pout perched on his lips. 

“Pretty girl gets jealous,” when you went to object to such a ridiculous claim, his hand firmed up, tilting your head to the side, effectively shutting you up. His lips attached to your neck, biting an already tender spot from the night before. When you gasped, his tongue pressed against the spot, doing his best to offer a remedy to the wonderful pain. 

His lips crested the shell of your ear as he spoke again, your eyes fluttering shut. “Okay baby, I’m so sorry. Let me show you that you’re my only girl, yeah?” Nodding at his words, you felt his smirk grow. One side tilted up, the cockiest motherfucker you had ever laid eyes upon stood before you. 

Josh’s hands left you, taking a step back and removing his string of mala beads. He raised his eyebrows expectantly at your hands, “Prayer formation.” Confusion etched across your face, but did as he said.

He wrapped the long thread of beads around your hands, trapping them in place. He moved swiftly, taking the easy garments off your body. As you stood bare before him, he nudged you towards the unmade bed.

Gingerly laying down, his hands trailed from your ankles to your thighs, parting your legs for him. He sighed, a near breath of relief at the vision before him. “You’re going to say my gratitude meditation script while I make you cum. The second you mess it up, you start over.” 

Eyes widening at him, he tossed his notebook over to you, page opened to the lines you needed to recite. The twelve lines appeared easy enough, able to be seen if you turned your head fully over to peer at them.

“Begin.” Josh commanded. You started, but stuttered as his tongue flattened on your mound. Pulling back, he slapped your thigh, making you look back at him. “Start over.” 

That was how you spent the remainder of your morning with him. Heaven.  

Guilt is a horrible thing to grapple with. It can consume you, take over every waking and sleep ridden thought you have. Ruining lives, really. It was what guilt did. That was its entire thing. So, why didn’t you feel even an ounce of guilt as another orgasm took over your body, contracting every muscle in your body from head to toe, brought on by another man? 

Danny’s incredibly disrupted curls brushed against the softness of your inner thigh. Another earth shattering finish had you gasping for air. When you finally had the miniscule amount of energy to let your eyes look down and meet his, they were fogged over, hooded as he observed you like his fucking prey. They were dark, so dark. Darker than you had ever seen before. 

Looking at you through his long lashes had a chill running down your spine as he pulled himself up despite wanting to live between your legs for the rest of his life. His calloused hands were rough as they went from massaging the supple flesh along your frame to enclosing around a lock of hair and pulling harshly, forcing you to sit up and meet him. 

“Open,” you immediately did as he said. Jaw falling slack, his fingers pinched the end of your tongue, pulling it out to fully extend from your mouth. His own lips parted, a string of spit departed from his mouth landing soundly on your tongue. A choked moan echoed from your throat as you tasted the mixture of your own release and him cascading down your throat. 

Roughly landing his mouth on yours, he released a groan that rumbled in his chest. “Good girl,” you preened at the words. Your limp body collapsed back onto the mattress, feeling how quickly your eyes drooped. His warmth didn’t join you right away. 

Honestly, you weren’t sure how long he had been gone, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, but you felt your body get pulled up. A strong, firm body slid behind you, letting you rest fully against his torso. When you felt something warm at your lips, you groaned, trying to get away from it, but he wasn’t having it.

“Uh uh. Drink it,” his words vibrated his chest, pressed against your back. Giving in, you let the mystery liquid trickle into your mouth. A heavy sigh followed as the hot chocolate danced across your taste buds. “I know you’re too tired to eat, so this’ll have to do for now until I can get some food in you, baby.” 

Nodding in agreement, you downed the scalding drink far too quickly. Turning in his arms and forcing him to lay down, you rested your head on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat grew more distant the more you fell into the grasp of sleep.

As Danny’s arms tightened around you, hands trailing across the naked skin, your thoughts were riddled with how incredibly perfect this was. Everything you had ever thought of couldn’t even begin to compare to the truth of how this was. Exceeding any and all expectations that had ever been set by you.

You just hoped this wouldn’t come crashing down too quickly. 

One thing you loved about Josh’s home was that it truly looked like it belonged in Architectural Digest. The exposed wood that covered the cabinesque style home from inside out, the nature scape that adorned the property line, the perfectly styled interior. It was almost scary to touch anything, but it yelled Josh.

Sitting on his couch that was probably worth what you made in a year, leaning into his side as you giggled about watching another Wes Anderson flick after seeing two already, Josh’s hand covered your eyes. He snickered beside you as he secretly picked the next film to watch. 

“Okay. Put in your guess now. Which one did I pick?” Thinking about the two you had already seen tonight, you thought long and hard, eyelashes fluttering against his palm, positively tickling him. “Final guess going in…Isle of Dogs.” You said it as sure as you could despite knowing the chance was slim. 

He scoffed, pulling his hand away and seeing the opening scenescape for Isle of Dogs. “Cheater! You saw,” you pinched his side, hand shifting under the blanket as you did. He giggled, ruffling your hair, tugging you to lay back down in his embrace. 

Your hand wandered aimlessly under the blanket, cupping his semi-hard cock over his sweats. His body tensed as you lightly moved your hand, wanting to wake him up. “Belly.” It was spoken as a warning. 

Not responding to it, you continued your residual movements. It didn’t take long for him to become achingly hard underneath your palm. Taking it as your invitation, your hand slipped under the band of his pants, meeting the soft skin of him.

Starting slow strokes, you just wanted to feel him in your hand. His head began leaking his arousal, your eyes finally departing the screen to see him struggling to hold his attention to the movie. He met your look and you offered an innocent smile.

You kept that up for just a few minutes more before you decided to stop teasing. Shifting to lay on your stomach, directly between his legs, his dick met your gaze.

Josh could only watch as you welcomed him into the warm, wet embrace of your mouth. Taking him quickly, his tip scraped the back of your throat. He choked on a moan, head tipping back. 

Hands grabbed at your hair, keeping it out of the way of your work. As you bobbed, hands working what your mouth couldn’t fully reach, your other cradled his balls.

They tightened, his muttering moans and pleas coming to a halt as he released in your mouth. His cock twitched in your mouth, swallowing his entire release. Popping off of him when you knew he had been milked for all he was worth, you beamed at him. 

“Bell-belly,” his words were spoken in a singular breath. Trying to catch it after a powerful orgasm, cheeks crimson red, he pulled you back up to reach him. His hungry lips devoured yours, not caring that teeth were hitting teeth, trembling hands trying to keep you as close as possible. 

Shaky intakes of breath, clouded mind, he didn’t care. He had to tell you. Right then and there. “Belly, I love you. Fuck, I’m so in love with you.” When you pulled back to see him, observing the rapid rising and falling of his chest, eyes glossy with pupils blown wide. 

“Wha-what?” Hands rubbing your cheeks and neck, shaking his head slightly, he swallowed thickly before talking again. “I love you. I’ve been in love with you for-for so long. We’re so good together, honey. We work! I need you. I want you to be mine and only mine. You-you’re perfect, belly. I have to have you. I love you.” The entirety of his speech, he sounded like he was on the verge of tears. 

Adams apple bobbing as he tried to contain his emotions. Raw and near the edge of a breakdown, you didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t time, not yet. Your hands gripped his wrists, hands still holding your head in place, resting his forehead against yours. “Jo-Josh, you-I can-I need more time. Give me just-just a couple days to get every-everything sorted, yeah?” 

Pleading, you were begging him. He could hear it by the wavering tone in your voice. The ball lounged deep in your throat that you were fighting further down. Hands leaving his wrists, your own cupped his cheeks. Thumbs rubbing against the smooth, warm skin. “Pl-please?” Leaning in, you captured his lips. 

At first, they didn’t respond, but as you felt the sheer panic bubbling up, his pressed into your own. “Okay.” It was all he said as he broke apart, lips landing on your forehead. Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to fight the inner turmoil surfacing for the first time since this had all started. 

You left Josh’s house that night. Unsure of what you were supposed to do. When you came to the stoplight that you only needed to turn right to in order to get to your house, you veered off, turning left and continuing straight down the road.

Danny opened his front door, loungewear on, a surprised, but excited reaction greeting you. “I know I didn’t call, but-” he immediately cut you off, arm wrapping securely around your waist and bringing you to him. Moaning into his mouth, both of your hands held his cheeks as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.

“Don’t ever apologize for coming to see me. I missed you,” he pecked your lips again, ushering you into his home. All you needed to do was forget the events from earlier this evening. Not ready to deal with the truth of the situation at hand. It wasn’t time. 

You were tipsy, head starting to buzz with a clouded happiness as you danced around Danny’s living room. One of your favorite songs blasted through his speakers. He was resting on his sofa, tender gaze following your every movement as he admired your carefree attitude. Nursing his beer, his eyes darted down to the corner of the coffee table that you were getting too close to. 

“Bab-” as he went to warn you, it proved too late. Your shin caught right on the sharp edge, cutting into the flesh, blood instantly trickling down your leg. “Ow!” You yelped, going to grab the wound, but Danny was faster. 

His hands grabbed your calve, turning your leg to fully face him, his muscle tank discarded and in a bunch, now pressed firmly against the gushing wound. “Alright, come on you clutz,” he sighed with a chuckle, lifting you bridal style into his arms. Another yelp escaped your throat at the sudden movement. Danny walked into the kitchen, sat you on the counter, turned and grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink.

“Keep that held tight to it,” he instructed as he dug through the box. “It looks worse than it feels. Promise,” you spoke out, lifting the shirt away from the cut to observe the damage. He hummed in response, coming back to where you sat atop his counters. Danny’s features somehow seemed to grow sharper as he fell into concentration.

His curls were held back by a loose ponytail tonight, some face framing pieces that you weren’t entirely sure he meant to have out or not drew your attention. Wrapping the coil around your finger you sighed. “So, you’re a rockstar and a nurse? What can’t you do Mr. Wagner?” He chuckled, eyes quickly looking you over before he shrugged. 

“Not much. I do have a favorite thing I like to do, though,” you smiled, feeling the neosporin being spread on the cut. “Oh yeah? What’s that?” He smirked, lightly tapping your chin, kissing the tip of your nose, turning his attention back to his work. “You, baby. All time favorite activity right there.” 

Your head fell back, cackling at the cliche. “God that was so lame!” His shoulders shook as he finished up, placing a large bandaid over the cut. After discarding the trash he turned his attention fully back to you.“That was on you. You walked right into it!” His hands rested on either side of your frame, flat palmed on the counter. 

“Don’t blame that on me! I’m not the one who said the stupid line,” his eyes darkened as he held eye contact with you. His hands moved from the counter to the tops of your thighs. “Mhm. Did it work though?” 

Leaning towards you, nose brushing against yours, stealing the air from your lungs, your eyelashes fluttered. “N-no,” Danny barely nodded, lips ghosting over yours. A whimper escaped you, falling onto his waiting lips. “C’mere.” 

Arms encircling around his neck, you crushed him to you. His hands traveled up your thighs, holding firmly to your waist. It was a blur. Somehow moving from the kitchen to his bedroom. Sitting on his lap, naked sticky bodies meshing as one. Rolling your hips over his pelvis, cock rocking deep inside of you at the movement. 

Danny’s lips met every inch of skin he could. Hands splayed across your back, holding you to him, his hot tongue went across your shoulder to your neck. A slew of whimpers, moans, and panting filled the room, not even positive who they were coming from. 

When your head fell back, he took the opportunity to attack your neck. Trails of sloppy kisses across your throat and collarbones. “Oh-oh fuck. Danny, I’m-” he nodded, forehead resting against your chest, hands going to your hips and helping you pick up speed. 

“I know, baby. Come on, cum for me. All over me, cum for me,” your jaw opened, no noise coming from you as blinding heat pummeled you. As your cunt clenched and soaked him, he released in you with a groan. Both of your bodies tensed before becoming boneless against one another. Using each other as support to remain up. 

Neither of you went to move, just staying this way for a moment longer. Trying to slow your increased pulse down, let your lungs refill with any air you could get, sweat dripping down the center of your spine. You were entirely unsure where you ended and he began. 

Danny refused to let you go. His hands still held you, tight grip slowly releasing as he began rubbing at your tender flesh where his hand prints would be left the next day. Placing kiss after kiss on your lips, your trembling frame came back down. 

Staring into his eyes was basically hearing him scream at you. It was him sharing it all with you. Leaving it out in the open for you to pick up and return. Too much. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth emanate from him. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek, getting your attention back to him. “Let’s go shower, okay?” You nodded, hearing him chuckle as you didn’t move to climb off of him. His leg bounced under you, forcing your eyes open, a pout taking shape on your lips.

Groaning, your body felt weak, no strength remaining. Too tired to even try and move. “Baby, for us to go shower, you gotta get off,” you went even more limp in his arms. A silent protest. His hand swept the hair from your shoulders, placing a kiss on one of them, then the other. Continuing down both of your arms, each finger. It was an offer of motivation. 

It worked. Slinking off of him, you hissed at the sensation of his softened cock slipping from you. You didn’t sleep at Danny’s that night. No, you went home after cleaning up despite the continuous fight from him. As you stood in the steaming shower with him, reality was crashing down. 

Your thoughts riddled with Josh. Of the confession and feelings he had poured out to you just hours earlier. How you ran to Danny, who still couldn’t actually tell you how he felt. Josh, who felt things so deeply and profoundly he had no choice but to share them with you. They would eat him alive if he didn’t. 

Then there was Danny. Who at the beginning had told you there were some feelings there. Feelings he hadn’t ever leaned into, but that he knew were there. How he was finally starting to see you in the light you had wanted from your first meeting. The looks that Josh showered you in every single time he saw you. 

He wasn’t a talky person. You knew that when you stared into his eyes tonight, all of the emotions and feelings he had been tamping down were shouting at you. Letting you know that although he wasn’t saying them, they were there. He just didn’t know how to tell you. Josh did.

Were you imagining those looks? Filling in the gaps of some fantasy you had created to comfort yourself in the possibility of something with him. It was entirely possible. What you did know is that you weren’t imagining them with Josh. You knew that was how he looked at you, spoke to you, shared with you. It was all too much.

In far too deep with these boys in a situation you didn’t even get yourself into. It was something your best friends had done. Did you take it further than you should have? Reaping the rewards of having two incredibly amazing men who wanted you. In one way or another, they wanted you. You weren’t used to it.

That’s why it had been over a week since you had interacted with anyone. Refusing to speak to them, wanting to sort things out on your own. Yet the longer you spent dwelling on it, the more and more upset you became. With both of them for waiting so long to do something about their feelings for you and at yourself. For getting sucked in too deep and not being able to make a decision. A decision that should’ve been easy. 

Why couldn’t you fucking decide? 

It was the twentieth text from Danny that had your blood boiling so much, you stormed over to his house. Wanting to demand that he leave you alone, give you the space you needed to figure this out. Put an end to it. 

His door swung open, eyes fiery and upset as they laid on your figure. Jaw set, he motioned for you to come in. Standing on opposite sides of the room, his hands went up, silently asking you what had happened. 

“Haven’t heard from you all week. Josh hasn’t either,” he sniffed, clearly fighting off the anger that was coursing through him. “What’s going on, belly?” You sighed, nerves overtaking your body, sitting on the very edge of his couch. 

“I-I’m having to-I have to choose,” you bit out. It should’ve been clear to him what was happening, but he wanted you to explain it to him. He nodded, acting like it was incredibly obvious that it was time. “What-why can’t you choose? We’ve both dealt with you seeing both of us. We’ve given you the space to make up your mind. We cannot continue on this way. It’s killing us,” he was speaking for them both. 

You weren’t sure what he had said that set you off, but your eyes narrowed in his direction. Speaking through gritted teeth, your hands balled into fists. “Why can’t I choose?” He remained deadly silent, knowing you were going to explode. “I have been fucking in love with you since I was a child, Danny. Literally from the moment we met. You never even looked at me!”

Voice raising with each word, you were seeing red. “I dreamed of you seeing me like how I so badly wanted. Have you seen the way Josh looks at me?” Going quiet for a beat, you continued before he had the chance to respond, not wanting to hear him talk. “He treats me like I’m his entire fucking world! He’s done that for so long I don’t even know when it started.”

Tears were welling in your eyes, threatening to spill over at the guilt and exasperation coursing through you. “But I wasted so much time on you. Watching you, praying that you would just look at me. Now, I’m in this with both of you and I don’t know what to do. You’re seeing me, but you still can’t fucking tell me how you feel!” You didn’t care how pathetic you sounded, a sob falling from you as you looked at him. You wanted him to know the hurt he had caused you over the years. Whether he had known it was happening or not, you didn’t care. 

“So, do not tell me that I need to pick. Because you won’t like the choice I make.” It was spoken with pure honesty. Danny’s eyes shut, the answer seemingly laying right in front of him. It killed him. He held something in his hand, what you weren’t sure of, but he turned from you, throwing it at the wall. 

“Fuck!” He yelled, hands landing on top of his head. “I’m sorry, belly. I was a stupid kid that just didn’t know what to do. You’re right. I didn’t treat you like you deserved and I can’t change that. I know I fucked up, I know. I just-I care about you. So much. Just ten years too late, huh?”

Your tears still fell, Danny refusing to look you in the eye as he spoke. “I don’t know.” 

You sobbed the entire way home. When you arrived at your front door, there stood a vase filled with your favorite flowers. A large pink bow wrapped around the odd shaped, obviously thrifted vase. Sniffling, you knelt down, picking them up and seeing the hand written card sticking out from the midst of the bundle.

Tears continued their stream down your swollen cheeks, hiccuping on a cry as you read the note. 

Darling girl, 

I know we’ve put you in an incredibly complicated situation, but I hope you know that it’s been worth it. You’re worth it. I’d do it ten times over if it meant I got to know you in this way that I’ve only dreamed of. I’m here when you’re ready with whatever you decide. I love you.

Forever yours,

Joshua

The note was now stained as your tears poured onto the card. The shame overtaking your body as it slammed into you how much this boy truly loved you. Adored you. Admired you. He was able to show you in ways that you weren’t sure you could ever match. 

You didn’t deserve it. He lied in his note. If there was anyone who positively did not deserve the attention and intense feelings of these two immaculate men, it was you. Playing them both, dancing between sides, too many ties pulling you back. 

As you set the flowers on your kitchen counter, you saw the decorated envelope sitting on your entryway table. Your brows furrowed, wondering when the hell that had gotten there. It was sticking out of your bag. Shaky hands grabbed it, seeing a poorly scribbled sticky note on the front. 

YOU NEEDED A REMINDER OF WHY I’M IN THE FIGHT

Daniel Robert Wagner,

Where can I even begin? You have held my heart in your grasp in ways you will never understand. It all stems from that June summer day. Sam brought you into the group and it was like you had stolen all the air from lungs, becoming the air that I needed to breathe everyday. 

I’ve seen you shape and transform into an amazing person, still remaining true to your roots despite the ever growing stardom that is falling into your lap. I can’t wait to see what wondrous things you’re going to do. I hope I’m a part of the journey. I hope you’ll let me tag along.

Every time my eyes fall to you, it’s like I’m seeing you again for the very first time. I don’t expect that to change as we grow up. I live off the chance that one day, maybe you’ll see me like that, too. But in the meantime I will always be here, your personal cheerleader, on the sidelines as your number one fan.

I'll always be your fan. I’ve loved you since I’ve known you, holding onto faith that someday you’ll love me back. 

Forever and always yours,

Belly

You jumped up from your seat on the couch and ran into your room. Throwing open the closet door, you rooted through your belongings, tossing out items that were in your way until you saw it. 

There, tucked away in the back corner of the small closet, hidden behind a rack of shoes, sat another envelope. Another one you had entirely forgotten about. Your breath held tight in your throat, unsure of what to do with the baited air. Snatching it from its spot, the decorated paper stared back at you.

You never sealed the back, flipping it up and pulling out the pristine paper. It still smelled of the vanilla scent you had sprayed on it. Your signature scent in high school that had you cringing at the memory. Josh had complimented it on more than one occasion and you had worn it every day after that. 

Pounding on the front door, a summer storm raged outside. It poured like only a midwest storm could. Where the skies had been clear for minutes leading up to the dark clouds rolling in, torrential rain drenched anything in sight. You included. 

When his door opened, not expecting a visitor, your jaw was set, not wanting to play any games. Ready to end it. “You need to get inside!” He yelled over the thunder that cracked overhead. Without a second of hesitation, your sopping wet frame stepped inside. The familiar scent washing over you.

He disappeared, coming back moments later with towels. Nearly refusing to look in your eyes, he handed them off to you, turning on his heel and taking a stance just a few paces back. His intution told him he knew where this was going. 

“Tell me when.” You gritted out. He knew what you were asking, demanding. Having to lay it all out at that moment. Stumbling over his words, you spoke again. “Tell me why you want me.” His eyes snapped up to yours, glossy irises meeting you. 

His chin trembled as his lips parted to break the utter silence you waited in. Thunder still echoing outside, lightning igniting the space. “It’s you. You’ve been there. For everything, especially when others weren’t. I knew that all I had to do was pick up a phone and you-you’d be there in a heartbeat. You want to know when?”

An intake of breath as he grew more and more passionate, seeing as the tears freefall down your face, chin still up as he spoke. “It was when you were in my goddamn garage. You would come before the band just to see me.” The last word was uttered in disbelief. His own tears threaten to start falling. 

“You didn’t see it because I didn’t want you to. I was scared. But fuck, belly, it’s you. It’s always been you.” Your hand raised from your side, extending the envelope towards him. Letting him have the insight that you swore no one ever would.

Gingerly removing it from your grasp, he pulled the paper from the envelope and sat on his sofa. You stood rooted to your spot, watching his face to see the display of emotions he was bound to reveal. 

Danny,

This isn’t a formal letter. Not like the others I’ve written. Where I’ve put my soul's bearings onto parchment and sealed them away, for no other prying eyes to ever see again. I had to get this down. 

You looked at me today. 

Sitting in your garage, you gave me an impromptu drumming lesson. I only caught it briefly, in a passing moment. When my head had turned when you weren’t expecting it and caught your eyes watching me. In a way that was different from all the others. 

I didn’t realize it until I got home tonight, having been kicked out of the garage for super secret band practice (which is totally stupid by the way), but you did. I saw it. You looked at me. Thank you. For seeing me. 

People call me dumb, that I’m just a child who doesn’t understand what love is and what it can entail. But they're wrong. Because I know that it can be a spoken word or just a look shared in secret, but it doesn’t matter because it’s love. It’s in the way you look at me when you teach me how to play drums. 

It’s you, Danny. You’ll forever own a piece of my heart. No matter what. I love you. 

Belly

His arms sagged, nearly dropping the paper to the floor, staring at you in utter disbelief. “You don’t deserve me,” you whispered out, feeling everything crash to the surface at once. Danny stood, approaching you, but still keeping a hair of distance. 

Shaking his head, his red rimmed eyes bore into yours. “No, I don’t.” He was slowly inclining his head to yours, wanting to see if the message you were putting out was what he was reading. Not wanting to believe that this was actually happening. That the choice you had made was really him. The love you had harbored for him was true, not a dream he was chasing. That he would finally be ready to return it. After everything, you chose him.

“Take me to bed before you fuck it up.” 

[majorbaby]

i was going to make a video compilation but actually i think that would give MASH too much credit or make it seem like I really think this show did generally well by race and racism, plus I can't go back and edit a video if I change my mind at any point. so here's my text-based list of race moments that actually land for me, whether intentional or based on my personal interpretation.

s01e05 The Moose - which is mostly a white saviour episode but actually does do a few things right:

this moment of solidarity between Oliver and Young-Hi

in response to the Swamp Rats' indignation that anyone would sell their child into servitude, Ho-Jon explains very frankly "Well some of the locals sell their kids for money Hawkeye, they have no other means." - not to say that it's right that Young-Hi's parents did that to her, but like, they didn't sell her to get rich, they did it because they're likely living in poverty and they have other younger children to support

Young-Hi cheekily explaining in her letter to Hawkeye "heehee the nuns have no idea I'm Buddhist" she's taking them for a ride, it's great

and Young-Hi's "I am also very beautiful!"

s02e15 Officers Only

Hawkeye introducing a black enlisted man as his brother-in-law - soooo very recently, like I argued this at the mic at my last convention, we've started to rethink the use of"brother" and "sister" to refer to your union comrades has start. if your boss caught you organizing with a friend after work, you would say "oh that's just my brother/sister". arguments against this are gaining traction now because of growing awareness of non-binary people but tbh it should have never been a thing it only protects white people who can reasonably pass as siblings, if you're black or brown you're SOL (as you usually were anyway). so anyway. this is a long ass paragraph just to say that Hawkeye saying " brother-in-law" in the union episode of MASH makes me feel ways. someone was thinking about intersectionality way back then.

s02e19 The Chosen People

Sam Pak in OR at the beginning of the episode, thanking America for saving Korea "from the bottom of our bomb craters." and also just generally making jokes that actually land about the Korean language because he's the one making them, "Pish-posh? That's my mother's family name"

tbh Sam walking around like he owns the base is pretty great in general

s05e08 Dear Sigmund

Klinger: Smaha! Smaha! Potter: [to Private Habib] What'd he say? Habib: He said "Smaha! Smaha!"

If it is Arabic it's funny because Potter assumes Habib will translate and he just repeats the words in Arabic because that is what Klinger literally said. If it is gibberish it's funny because Potter assumes its Arabic and Habib gives him the gibberish. This is one of my favourite gags in the whole show and fun fact also the moment I realized Jamie Farr must be a native speaker because his accent is so natural. It's pretty cool he got to flex that.

s05e11 Hawk's Nightmare

this is just me, but I love that Hawkeye describes the people of Crabapple Cove as never changing colour, always the same "off-white" - this was a time you almost never heard white people acknowledge their whiteness, except when speaking about racism. really struck me the first time i heard it. probably my favourite thing from Hawkeye re: race and it's not intentional. I definitely prefer it to his white saviourism

s06e08 In Love and War

the exchange between Kyungsoon and Hawkeye where the extent of his naiveté is put on display, "You're being awfully practical about this" "I thought you liked that about me [list of things she had to do for survival that Hawkeye initially admired in her but is now throwing in her face]"

episode ends in Hawkeye having to accept that sometimes love is irrelevant, the circumstances are what they are (the love was there and it didn't matter, but it was there) - this imo is the only episode of MASH that even begins to touch on the realities of being a Korean civilian in the war

s08e03 Guerilla My Dreams

the gang fails to save a woman from being taken away and she will likely die, as would've probably happened irl. sometimes being on a sitcom isn't enough to save you from your fate as a prisoner of war and it was good to be reminded of that for once. it's the white saviour trope averted.

s08e08 Private Finance

I can at least appreciate that this time when someone is explaining how all sides of the war are to blame for the scourge of war, it's a young Korean girl in her own words. rest of the episode is questionable but normally such a line would go to Hawkeye.

s08e15 Yessir that's Our Baby

the Korean official biting back when Hawkeye tries to accuse him (on behalf of the country) for not recognizing mixed-race babies as Korean, stating that neither does America recognize mixed-race babies with American fathers as Americans, unlike France and the UK

s11e01 Hey Look Me Over

this episode is textually about the very specific and not uncommon experience of being desexualized as a fat, Asian-American woman - it deserves a proper episode recap/analysis with that lens and I'm planning on take a stab at it if/when I ever get around to that ep in my rewatch. these stories were not being told in mainstream media until like, five years ago. there are some the hypersexualized or fetishized Asian woman in media and usually the movie/show/comic is doing that as a selling point rather than commentary. it's unfortunate we haven't progressed much since that moment 40 years ago.

[citation needed, cannot remember the name of the episode]

while admitted a Korean doctor tells Hawkeye he wishes things were different and that he could work alongside Hawkeye and BJ and Hawkeye asks with perfect American ignorance (paraphrase), "You'd want to do that?" and he responds, "You treat the enemy, why can't I?"

And finally, Soon-Lee and Klinger in GFA, a little bit in As Time Goes By. I started writing an essay on Klinger as the romantic lead of GFA but I think I'm going to try to make it a video essay so I can include clips from the show without having to make a bunch of gifs.

But in a nutshell, Klinger gets to do stuff in GFA that the often emasculated brown man still doesn't get to do much on television. As MASH progressed we did occasionally get to see Klinger take on a more serious role, Alan Alda has spoken on trying to do that for the character rather than rehash dramatic plotlines for Hawkeye or BJ who got plenty of their own.

Having Klinger represented that way gives audiences a chance to see him more three-dimensionally. As someone who is capable of romantic love, attraction, courage and someone who might be sexually desirable to others - in a less direct way than Kellye demands of Hawkeye in Hey Look Me Over. I think the lack of subtlety in Hey Look Me Over is great because there can be no question about what that episode is supposed to do and also because it drives home that Hawkeye is so blinded by his preconceived notions of what a "desirable woman" looks and sounds like that Kellye has to scream it in his face before he realizes what he's been doing. But it's also nice to have an example that's woven into the writing and cinematography.

Normally I don't like to add these kinds of disclaimers because I value open conversation but if you're rb'ing, please be mindful of your tags. I intentionally excluded a lot of the moments where I know I'm supposed to give this show an A+ for its progressivism when it has a white person demonstrating basic human decency. That bar is just too low for me.

[holylulusworld]

Justified (4) - Revenge served cold

Summary: Revenge is all you got left. And no one is going to stop you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader ???

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, John Winchester

Warnings: implied, torture/violence, murder, blood, dark!fic, dark!reader, revenge, written in reader’s PoV, John Winchester is awful, mentions of past rape (no description)

A/N: Again. Please heed the warnings for this series. 

Justified masterlist 

<< Part 3

“Who are you? One of the girls he fucked once?” Mary huffs as I cross my legs. She’s nervous and scared but puts a brave face on. Her eyes give her away. “I know about all his sidepieces. You’re no one special and coming here will make things only worse for you, sweetness.”

“Hmm…you’re such a nice person,” I chuckle darkly. “I wonder if he would’ve stopped that night if you told him so. You’re his wife, the queen ruling by his side.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she dares to say. “Whatever my husband did to you, has nothing to do with me. If you fucked him, it’s not my problem. John never promises anything to the bitches he fucks.”

“Aw, sweetness. What a nice way to describe how your husband extorts young women to do whatever he wants,” I sarcastically reply. “You do know that he does things like this. Right? I know pretending he’s not the monster he is must be easier for you. Especially with all the shiny things you can buy with the money he makes with his dirty business.”

“What do you want?” Mary nervously glances around the apartment. I bet she tries to find out if she can make it to the door before I put a bullet in her brain. “Money?”

“You don't remember me, don't you?” I slowly get up from the couch, gun aimed at her head now. “Of course not. How could you? I was only another victim of your husband’s cruelty. Just a young girl he ripped apart.”

I chuckle darkly as her eyes dart back and forth between the gun in my hand and my face. She knits her brows together and huffs. “Whatever your family got, they deserved it. If you want to do business with my husband, you must follow his rules.”

“Oh, my father got what he deserved,” I press the gun to her chest, smirking. “I let him suffer before I ended his worthless existence. Just like all the others conspiring to hide what Johnny boy did that night.” I can see the color drain from her face.

“You killed your father,” she swallows thickly. I enjoy the struggle on her face. Damn, I made the grand dame sweat. “How could you?”

“Well, he had it coming, Mary,” I shrug. “It was his fault that John Winchester ruined my life. He knew John wanted to come around, and what he would do if he finds only me at home. My mother died because of him, and I, well I died that night too.”

She watches me with big, wet eyes. “I still don’t know what you want from me. John’s business is not my problem.”

“You were there. And imagine, I had hoped you’ll save me,” I unlock the gun, making her gasp. 

Fuck, I feel powerful and like the goddess of death tonight. 

I know…I know. I sound narcissistic and maybe a little crazy. Who am I kidding? After John Winchester tore my existence apart, I put myself back together. I’m just missing a few important things. I lost my mind and moral compass that night.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she feigns innocence. 

“The moment you entered my father’s house, hope bloomed in my chest. He wouldn’t rape me in front of his wife,” I press the weapon harder into her chest. “At least I had hoped so. I didn’t know his wife is a woman urging her husband on to rape an innocent young girl who never did anything wrong.”

She remembers that night and me. I can see it in her eyes as she stares at me like she just saw a ghost. “No. I never did such a thing. You are mistaken.”

“I’ll make sure you’ll never forget my name or face again. Your time is up Mary Winchester,” I narrow my eyes as she starts to beg me for her pitiful life. I won’t show mercy to her. Not now. Not ever.

“Who are you?” John barks into the phone. “I will come for you. After what you did to Adam, I’ll rip you apart. Get out of the hole you are hiding at and face me like a man.”

God, I wish he could hear my voice to realize I’m not some guy. But, at least for now, I need to use the voice change to hide my identity for a little longer.

“John Winchester, self-declared ladies’ man, and the leader of his empire,” I chuckle into the phone. “You should learn to listen for once. Maybe you’ll be a little friendlier after—”

“After?” he yells into the phone. “I’ll get you piece of shit. No one threatens me or my empire.”

“Did you hear, Mary?” I can hear John Winchester gasp into the phone. “He only thinks about himself and his empire. Not his family. What a pity. I had hoped to get a little reaction out of him.”

“If you touched my wife, I’ll rip you apart,” I smirk darkly as my eyes land on what’s left of Mary. She gasps for air as I rip the duct tape off of her mouth. “Not so tough any longer, huh.”

I have to admit. I didn’t go easy on her. She deserved to catch hell, though. I can show no mercy to the likes of her. This isn’t who I am anymore. The kind girl helping people is long gone.

“You already did, Johnny boy,” I purr into the phone. “I was not even old enough to drink when you ripped my life out of my hands and now, I’m going to rip you and your family apart,“ faster than Mary can scream for help I slit her throat.

Her eyes are widening in shock. Until her very last moment, she had hoped I’ll let her go. Well, I never made any promises.

The only noise John hears is the gurgling sound of Mary’s fight against her blood. He calls her name, screaming bloody murder as I put him on the loud speaker to bathe in his pain.

“I’ll send you the video, Johnny. I hope you enjoy it,” he makes an odd noise. John Winchester almost sounds like he’s in pain. “I heard you have a thing for videos showing people who suffer. I’m wishing you a nice evening. Fell well, tada… I’ll see you soon…”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Sam watches his father trash his office. “Sir, what’s wrong? Do I need to call our men?”

“That bastard got your mother,” John points at the box I delivered to his house. Don’t worry, I didn’t send him her head. I delivered the video I took on a silver plate. Literally. “Benny and Jimmy found her at her apartment. That monster tortured your mother. It makes me sick.”

“Make you sick,” the younger brother chokes out. After all the pain John Winchester caused he dares to call someone else sick. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. I’ll take matters into my hands,” John growls. “None of them found any trace of that bastard. What they did to Adam was worse enough. But your mother. This is unforgivable…I’ll flay them alive…”

“Dean, for fucks sake you need to tell him it’s her,” Sam throws his hands up. “Did you even listen?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Dean shrugs. “One way or another, I’ll be next.” The elder brother looks at the bottle of Whiskey in his hands. “I prefer it’s her killing me, to be honest. I deserve her hatred. I never deserved dad’s wrath.”

“You ignored his order and let her go,” the younger brother yells. “Now she’s out for blood. She killed mom!”

“She killed a woman telling her husband to rape a girl right in front of his sons and her. What kind of woman does shit like that?” Dean bites back. “A monster. Nothing good ever came from John Winchester. This includes me.”

“Dean,” Sam gasps. “What are you going to do?”

Dean takes a swig from the bottle. “Nothing. I’ll be waiting for my turn. She will come for me, and I won’t fight her.”

“You didn’t do a thing.”

“Exactly. I ran away like a coward while he hurt her,” Dean drops his gaze. “Back then, I let her go, hoping one day she’ll recover and live a good life. I was wrong, I guess.”

“What if we find her first? We could…”

“We could what, Sammy? Offer her money for our lives,” Dean snorts. “Unlike other people, we know that woman wants something different. She’s seeking revenge on father.”

“Well then, let her have it. She’s sending messages all the time,” Sam says. “I can ask Charlie if she can trace her phone. We can at least try to not die.”

“I won’t drag Charlie into this shitshow. We will keep the girl out of this.”

“What else can we do?” Sam runs one hand down his face. “Dean?”

“I’ll be waiting for her. If she gives me the chance, I’ll offer her dad’s head on a silver plate,” Dean says. “If not, she can have mine in return for your life…”

One month later, in Lebanon Kansas, A bar outside of town, …

“Another one,” I wave at the bartender to get a refill. “Make it a double.” I dip my head to glance at the man sitting next to me. He ignores my presence, but I know he recognized me the moment I sat down next to him.

“You shouldn’t drink so much if you are planning on taking me down tonight,” Dean finally lifts his gaze from his hands. “I had hoped to never see you again after I let you go.”

“An eye for an eye,” I say, and he shrugs. “Why didn’t you bring some of your friends.”

“I’m not going to fight you, Y/N,” I ball my hands into fists. It’s the first time in ages that I hear my name. “If you want to kill me, be my guest. But if you are open to listening to me, I can help you bring my father down.”

“I don’t need your help,” I snap at him. Who does he think he is? Some hero in a cape saving me after the big bad broke me down to nothing. “I never needed it. Not back then. Not now.”

“You won’t get even close to John Winchester. Security is on the highest level. He’s waiting for you to take one false step. You know what he’s capable of. We both know,” he takes my drink and downs it in one go. “Kill me if it makes you happy or helps you cope. I honestly don’t care.”

I look at him for a moment. The young man from back then is gone too. He’s an empty shell. Tired, worn-out, and lifeless. Just like me…

“Fine. Let’s talk. If you are not useful,” I give him a cold smile, “you will die even more painful than Adam…”

<< Part 5

Tags in reblog.

[angelsheadcannons]

Home.

Pairing: !Fem Angel x Sam (Platonic)

Summery: It is the solstice. Asher and Milo’s mate are out at the store, Sam and Angel stayed at the house. Angel has a break down and Sam is there to comfort her

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of death, overall sadness.

!DISCLAIMER!

I am new to writing like this. It is not perfect. There may be spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes. Please DM me with suggestions of how I can better my writing pieces for the future if you have any suggestions! Also, please DO NOT take credit for my work or copy and paste my work to other platforms and pages. Love you all!

•

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•

“Hey Sam, what movie do you wanna watch?” Angel asked while waiting for Sam to come back from the kitchen with more Soda.

“I don’t know. Whatever you put on will be fine.” He spoke in his southern tone. Angel shifted a little letting the vamp sit next to her. Sam handed her a can of soda. The can was cold with condensation dripping on her leg. She ignored the coldness and eventually picked one of her favorite childhood movies, ‘Coraline’. Sam settled into the couch occasionally taking sips of his water.

Angel took a deep breath inhaling the sent that radiated off of him. He smelled like fire smoke, the woods and a hint of cologne. It was a smell that she felt familiar with. She started to think of where she had smelt a combination like that before. Then it hit her. Like a ton of bricks in the face. Angels Father. He was an outdoorsman. Always hunting or working on something outside. They would go to their camp that they owned and have Fourth of July parties with family and friends. Sam felt Angel shift on the couch more. Almost like she was trying to get away from him. In all honesty she was. She was trying to get away from those memories. Her father died when she was young. It’s been so long. So why is this hurting her so much. As the memories kept flooding into Angels mind, the tears kept building. Finally spilling from her eyes.

Sam felt a change in the air. He turned his head slightly, just enough to see her face. She was looking straight at the screen with tears streaming down her face. Her cheeks were bright red and eyes puffy.

“You okay? Your crying..” he said softly. Angel quickly wiped away the tears on her cheeks. And looked at Sam.

“I’m fine!” She tried to smile but the tears kept coming. Why can’t she just forget about it? There was no reason for her to be thinking about him. He’s not here. End of story. But it isn’t that easy.

“No you’re not, what’s going on?” Sam questioned.

“It’s just that this movie makes me cry.” Angel lied. There isn’t really anything sad about this movie. It is supposed to be a scary kids movie after all. Sam looked back at the screen. Coraline was going through the little door for the second time. There was nothing sad on the screen whatsoever.

“Don’t lie to me. What going on? Is it because David is out in the woods?” He paused looking for the words to ease her worries. “I promise you if you’re worried about him he’s going to be -“

“It’s not about David!” Angel blurted out. Why did she just say that?! Is she crazy? Sam doesn’t need to know. What is she thinking?

“Then what is it about..? If ya’ don’t mind me asking?” He turned his body to face hers. What is she going to do now. She can’t just brush him off now and pretend like nothing happened. She definitely can’t lie again to his face. That’s just wrong. Angel took a deep breath again. The scent haunting her nose. The memories came back into her mind again. Then, her walls broke.

“I just.. you..” she paused. Trying to describe this in a way that won’t sound weird. Just say it Angel. “You smell like my dad.” Sam’s eyes widened. “I don’t know if that sounds weird but, you do. You remind me of him.. to be honest you kind of act like him.” Sam put a hand on her shoulder. She stopped talking to look at him.

“That’s what this is about?” He said softly.

“Yes.” Angel whispered more tears clouding her vision until they got blinked away. Without warning Sam came closer and hugged her tightly. Angel inhaled his scent as she wrapped her arms around him. Feeling somehow lighter. His words were soft spoken. Only for her to hear.

“I don’t know who he was or what he was like but, he must smell pretty good then.” Sam chuckled a little. “You are a strong girl. I know that he would be so proud of you are today.” Angel laid her head on his shoulder and let herself sink into him. That’s all she needed to hear at that moment. They stayed like that for a few more minutes before Angel finally pulled away. She turned back to the screen and continued to watch the movie. Sam smiled and turned to watch as well.

They both never spoke of this moment. But from that moment on Sam felt a sense of responsibility for Angel. Like she was his daughter. Angel appreciated this.

•

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[kinocomix]

Untitled project Devlog #2: Heavy metal is not a single landmass, and it’s actually quite wholesome

When I listen to the doom soundtrack, there’s a part of me that’s always tempted to just do housework. say what you want about Doom’s ability to motivate or energize, but the reason I do it is because the image of someone cleaning their house while blasting all they fear is you is quite amusing to me.

As it turns out, that image I had of someone doing the dishes to Doom being hilarious isn’t that far-fetched, seen as the metal scene takes itself seriously, but the appropriate amount. I think the early 2000’s and what I was personally exposed to may have slightly tainted how I viewed metal. Despite being a lover of the genre myself, I wouldn’t consider myself a metalhead by any stretch of the imagination; I’m far from having the encyclopedic knowledge of metal that others have.

Ronnie James Dio in Metal: A Headbanger's Journey, directed by Sam Dunn

up until a couple of years ago, had you asked me what metal was i would have replied Marilyn Manson, Evanescence and Are you dead yet by children of Bodom– to note I to this day have not heard any of Marilyn Manson’s music nor have i listened to anything else by Children of Bodom. So as you can tell the scope was very narrow. Thankfully though I've since expanded my repertoire to include many other subgenres and bands and I've been very surprised by how vast of a genre it is. This week, I spoke to some wonderful people including the wonderful lads from Fall of Eden, Prominentia and some wonderful folk over on reddit. My goal was to understand their relationship with their music, but also people’s relationship to metal in general: so let's talk about that.

I think it’s important starting out to have a general framework with which to operate in, so by “Metal” I’m referring to any genre of music with big distorted guitars, bass, drums and vocals with a focus on being bombastic and in your face. that includes stuff like Jazz metal, swing metal and fusion metal. we’ll be talking about themes and subject matter in a bit, i’m aware that affects if something falls under certain genres or not.

The first thing I wanted to know about the musicians I spoke to is: why metal? A broad question, definitely, that could easily be answered with “because it’s fun” but it did lead to a lot of informative answers. One thing that came up often is the fact that people discovered the genre at a young age; often this is coupled with the fact that they shared it with someone, be it a friend, sibling, or parent. This is somewhat to be expected: one thing I’ll mention later in this devlog is the fact that humans are naturally social animals so it makes sense that people who love a genre that’s historically and still is to a lesser extent falsely labeled as violent would have fallen in love with it at a young age– partially because people tend to have less prejudice as kids, and because a lot of kids enjoy the naturally loud and rebellious idea of some genres of music.

Another idea that comes up often is catharsis, self expression and the notion of seeing yourself through the music. 

To quote Charbel, the lead singer of Fall of Eden: 

“the extremes you can go to in order to express yourself, it can be simple and complex”. 

Sometimes this is very straight forward, you write a song that evokes themes of sexual assault despite the fact that it’s not necessarily intended:

Korn, Freak on a leash

or you write a song describing how hopeless existence is; how absolutely dark and bleak  and meaningless it is to pray but at the very least, you have a loved one with you, and that makes it suck a little less:

Lamb of god, Walk with me in hell

or maybe you write a song about finding strength in hard times, when the word “human” begins to overlap with the meaning of “unity”:

Gojira, Born in winter

other times this is much less obvious:

Alestorm, Keelhauled

MUCH, much less obvious… 

Cannibal corpse, Evisceration Plague

My understanding is that while the metal scene is very welcoming, it also doesn’t seem to care much if you don’t get it. which is fair, who am i to question that having written entire sections of my comic in a cipher…

keeping in mind that music changes based off of the social fabric it’s built on (we’ll be discussing that as well as the themes and subject matter in a later devlog) it makes sense to consider metal music as outsider culture, despite the fact that it doesn’t fit the textbook definition of “uneducated naive artist discovered after their death”. Metal music isn’t trying to be weird, it’s just trying to be itself, which happens to be weird. Let's go back to that cannibal corpse song I mentioned earlier. it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to say that people listen to that do so for the same reason they watch horror movies: there’s something mystifying about the weird, the scary, the horrific, the morbidly curious. It’s in our nature to seek those out but better yet– to build communities centered around the enjoyment of these things, and that’s honestly beautiful. There's this very evocative video about outsider music that I think explains well why this makes metal fit into that category:

Another question I asked was regarding the artistry itself. As artists you either blow up and get suffocated with people’s attention, or you make peace with the fact that you have a couple of buddies that love what you do. I was pleased to hear this translates to metal musicians too. All too often I see the stereotype of the artist or musician frustrated that no one is looking at/listening to their stuff and I've known one or two musicians myself that fit that description. fortunately that does not seem to be the case in real life– though any musician or artist will tell you that it’s never a bad thing if people interact with what you make. One of the most common answers to “what’s the highlight of your career” is always something regarding being acknowledged or validated which I relate to.

left to right: Sergio from Prominentia, me, Bachir from Prominentia. Also my friend Alaa is there peeking up from the table.

As it turns out, a lot of metal musicians are very chill and extremely nice people. Obviously as is the case with all communities there are the inevitable sour apples, whenever anything gets big you inevitably lose some control over what’s happening on a granular level but that’s to be expected. There's something that Sergio said that stuck with me. When I asked him why he became a musician, he talked about how he wanted others to experience the same fun, freeing music that he did. And honestly I can respect that. 

When asked about what other genres of music they’d do if not metal, the answers were very diverse. it ranged from everything like synthwave, techno, punk to folk, jazz blues and classical music. It should come as no surprise at this point that metal is actually a very complex genre musically, but you don’t need me for that. There are plenty of online resources that can teach you about that, far better than I could possibly hope to.

While I agree that in some media the aspects of communities built around the enjoyment of art might be presented as a little overblown. I do think they’re inevitably still present.

I’ll leave you with this quote from Bruce Dickinson, lead singer of Iron Maiden:

My intention as the frontman is to try to find the guy who’s right at the back of the 30 000 [attendee] festival and sort of go “Yeah! You!”

devlog updates weekly on tuesdays.

goodbye for now!

[frodo-with-glasses]

Any questions you haven't yet answered for the Hobbit cousins‐ Frodo, Merry, and Pippin! Thank you!

Yesss, my bois! After a bit of discussion, we narrowed this one down to just a few questions, since I can’t recall anyone asking for these three as a trio before and I can’t answer all 15 in one go LOL

1. “When I think they became friends”

Well, I’ve already described how I think Frodo left a good impression on little Merry before he left to go live with Bilbo, setting the stage for their friendship later on; and I’ve also described how I think Merry and Pippin bonded over something stupid when they were young and have been inseparable ever since. I don’t think it’s hard to imagine that the three of them would’ve gotten to know each other over the course of several various family obligations—weddings, birthday parties, etc.—and hit it off, because of course you want to get along with family when you can, and Frodo just seems to jive perfectly well with kids who are a lot younger than him.

2. “My favorite scene of them”

Oh man, can I just say the whole Crickhollow chapter?? I mean we get Pippin splashing in the bath, Merry thoroughly schooling Frodo on how to keep secrets (and then everybody laughing at Frodo’s dumbfounded surprise), Merry and Pippin singing a song they prepared for the occasion—and that wonderful, heart-clenching line from Merry, “We are terribly afraid, but we are going with you, or following you like hounds.” The Crickhollow chapter is just one long fluff fic demonstrating the relationship dynamics of this trio—and Sam and Fatty Bolger!—and I just *clenches fist* love it so much

3. “A random headcanon I have of them”

Have I mentioned before that Pippin is incredibly ticklish? I feel like I must have. It just seems like too much of an obvious fact of the universe for me not to have said it sooner. Pippin is incredibly ticklish, and Merry and Frodo definitely know all of the worst tickle spots to get him thrashing on the floor within seconds.

Merry will sit back, cross his arms, and swear up and down he isn’t ticklish and you can’t make him laugh, no matter how hard you try, no sir, but that’s because he’s secretly protecting his armpits and the back of his neck. Frodo knows this. All he needs is a distraction, and a chance to lean over and brush the tip of a feather under Merry’s ear, and he’ll nearly jump out of his seat and start swinging fists at whoever’s nearby.

Frodo isn’t actually very ticklish, but the fact that anyone would try makes him laugh anyway, so he’s pretty easy to crack. Pippin finds this entertaining. Jury is still out on whether or not he realizes it’s basically cheating, and whether or not he cares.

4. “My favorite thing about them”

I think the beauty of the hobbits is that their friendships all start in very innocuous ways. “Ah yes, my second cousin once removed on his mother’s side, stand-up chap, gave me a gold coin for his birthday once”, etc, etc. And yet those mundane little relationships are so fierce and loyal when it comes down to the wire. Love doesn’t have to start dramatically to be real and true and ride-or-die. Merry and Pippin don’t decide to walk off into the possible jaws of death because Frodo is somebody extraordinary; honestly, aside from being a bit odd, Frodo is kinda just some dude. But they’re willing to risk everything for him, because Frodo is their odd dude, and they don’t want him to face this danger alone. I think that’s beautiful.

5. “A scene I wish we had of them”

Give me the Rivendell slumber parties and sleepy, giggly nighttime conversations or give me DEATH. Rivendell is lovely and homey, but you can’t tell me that the hobbits didn’t get a little lonely sleeping in those huge beds all by themselves for so long. I think there’s room enough on an elf-sized bed for all the hobbits to lie comfortably, lined up like sardines from the foot to the headboard; and I also think they wouldn’t get any sleep until very very late, because Pippin would keep waking everyone else up with some random thought that just popped into his head, and the giggle fits that ensue would take several minutes to calm down. And then another Pippin thought would come. Rinse, and repeat.

10. “A song that reminds me of them”

We’re back to Of Monsters and Men with “Your Bones”. No doubt this is one of the more obtuse of their songs, but I like it for a few reasons:

First, the contrast of the cheerful tune and melancholy lyrics fits the personalities of this trio. Pippin is the loud, cheerful face that you notice first, while Frodo and Merry are the quieter deep waters that you will only see if you take the time to look a little closer.

Second, I like that the song seems to describe a journey of some sort. “In the spring we made a boat/Out of feathers, out of bones/We set fire to our homes/Walking barefoot in the snow”; hobbits always walk barefoot, and the “snow” makes me think of Caradhras. Of course they didn’t literally set fire to their homes, but they did leave them behind, with full knowledge of the possibility that they might never return, and emotionally, those two things can feel much the same way. “Chasing leaves in the wind/Going where we’d never been/Said goodbye to you my friend/As the fire spread”; Merry and Pippin had to part ways from Frodo, and Pippin had to leave Merry (twice!!), and the trio is all separated by the time the final battle rolls around. But that just leads me into my next point—

Third, the chorus. The other lyrics in this song are strange and bewildering—like everything the hobbits encountered once they left the Shire—but the chorus is clear, simple, powerful, and rings out with clarity and purpose. “So hold on/Hold on to what we are/Hold on to your heart”.

Isn’t that the core of LotR? It’s in the relationships. No matter what strange and fantastical things the hobbits encountered on their Quest, what they needed to succeed was something they’d already had back in the Shire, something they’d always had all along. “Hold on to what we are; hold on to your heart.” When all hope is lost, remember your friendships. Remember you are not alone. Remember your purpose. Keep us close; even if we are not there with you, we will give you strength.

But on a less serious note, I also found THIS gem of a behind-the-scenes clip recently. It’s a song! It doesn’t have lyrics, but it’s a song! That counts, right?? 🤣🤣

FRIENDSHIP ASK GAME!

[hesfrombarcelona]

Sam's Super Seats, by Keah Brown

Genre:

Sam' Super Seats is a contemporary realistic picture book (Disability or Differences category).

Target Age Group:

This book is best suited for elementary grade children, generally ages 5-10.

Summary:

Sam has a lot in common with her best girlfriends; the same grade at school, a love of shopping, cool dance moves! Sam also has cerebral palsy, and she knows all the best seats for a quick rest when her body needs it.

Justification:

Kirkus Reviews calls Sam's Super Seats, "a warmhearted, necessary affirmation of disability and self-love through a multifaceted, endearingly imaginative narrator." (2022). School Library Journal says the book is, "Recommended for all those teaching acceptance and tolerance in all aspects of life." (McMahon, 2022). I was personally intrigued by this book because my own daughter has cerebral palsy, and I have noticed a lack of books that directly acknowledge and address disability.

Evaluation:

For this book I will be evaluating illustrations, characters, and content.

Illustrations:

Sharee Miller's beautiful pencil and watercolor illustrations fill Sam's Super Seats with cheer and whimsy. The pictures are visually interesting, with lots of color and details that add to the realism of the story. The characters' faces are expressive in a way that may help younger children to relate to their points of view. In the story Sam describes how she anthropomorphizes the various seats she uses, assigning personalities to them. The drawings of the furniture reflect this, with friendly looking curvy lines and inviting backgrounds that reinforce the story's message that self-care and rest are things to be enjoyed rather than avoided.

Characters:

This is a joyful story, and the characters' attitudes reflect that. Sam, the main character, shares details of her life, including accomplishments and challenges in a matter-of-fact and upbeat manner. While Sam specifically talks about her disability, it does not define her, she details her likes and dislikes, and discusses things that she feels she is good at. Sam's friends are described mostly in terms of their similarities with each other and herself, which is typical of children this age.

Content:

One of the best things about Sam's Super Seats is the story's normalization of disability. Having Sam narrate is respectful of the right of people to define their own identities and share their own stories. The book deals with Sam's limitations honestly, rather than presenting a common and well-intentioned but false claim that disability makes no difference in a person's life. While Sam acknowledges her unique challenges, she does so in an accepting and optimistic tone.

This book does a great job of explaining the special needs accompanying a disability in a way that is accessible to young readers. The emphasis on Sam's similarities with her friends and on her positive self-image represent Sam as an individual but also a typical kid. Stories like this can help children to empathize with those with physical differences, and may offer a chance for caregivers to answer questions and start discussions about the topic. Sam's Super Seats also provides a positive representation for children with disabilities who may not often see this aspect of themselves reflected in picture books.

References:

Brown, K. (2022). Sam's Super Seats. (S. Miller, Illus.). Kokila.

Kirkus Reviews. (2022, May 10). Sam's Super Seats: A spirited celebration of self-confidence and self-care. [Review of the book Sam's Super Seats, by K. Brown].

McMahon, B. (2022, July 29). [Review of the book Sam's Super Seats, by K. Brown]. School Library Journal. https://www.slj.com/review/sams-super-seats

[gustingirl]

Hey hey ☺️

Can I get #169. "You better have a good reason for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn.” With the reader finding out she is pregnant in the middle of the night with Sammys child :)

Thx if this is possible

everything's possible in this house ;) thanks for requesting!!

feel free to request more!

There was this saying you would constantly hear around as you were growing up: kids are a gift from God. It sounds nice, right? I mean, if you think about it, it truly is amazing how someone can form another human being inside of them and that little human later grows up and becomes a whole person. You would spend hours as a kid just thinking about it, being completely amazed by human anatomy and the things we could do with just our bodies. But you weren’t a six year old kid anymore. You were in your young 20s, finding yourself throwing up one random morning, with only one theory in your head.

Because it was the only answer that made sense. You hadn’t eaten anything in the past days that could cause some intoxication. Hell, your stomach didn’t even hurt. And it just couldn’t be dizziness, you were feeling so well. You were probably in your healthiest moment in life, and that fact actually explained so much.

It wasn’t a coincidence that it had been just two months since your 2nd year anniversary of your relationship with the man you truly believed was the love of your life. Only God knew back then that you would fall in love with a regular customer of the coffee shop you used to work at. But that long brown hair, that shiny beautiful smile and amazing personality made you lose control and now, two years and two months later, you were happily in love with Sam Kiszka. Nothing in life could ever be better than the man you went to bed with every day, the one man you woke up with and wished to spend the rest of your life by your side.

As you were cleaning your face and mouth after quite a horrible situation that I won’t describe, your mind was going through hell. All the possible scenarios were playing, one right after the other, driving you insane as time went by. You couldn’t truly stop to think about it. It was 6am and you had to get ready to go to work. Sam was already gone as the guys had some kind of important recording going on. He had promised you to come back home early so you two could finish watching that movie you started a few days ago but because of “issues”, was left behind. Just the thought of cuddling with your boyfriend while watching a movie was enough motivation to get your uniform and leave your house.

You tried hard to forget about the nasty moment you lived hours earlier and the possible cause of it, but it was stronger than you. There was some mix of frustration, fear and anxiety building up inside your heart and mind, and no matter how many customers you had in front of you, you couldn’t seem to be able to concentrate on your tasks.

With blood, sweat and tears you made it through the day without getting fired, despite the fact you basically made more mistakes in that single day than you did in your entire time as an employee. It was reasonable, though. You really were going through a tough time. However, nobody around you would comprehend it. Only Sam could, but somehow you were too scared to share this with him.

Being able to see him after a long day at work was like heaven. As soon as you walked through the door, his puppy-like smile grew bigger, and your heart began beating fast like it always did when your eyes landed on him.

“My love!” Sam yelled as he basically run towards you, embracing you in the warmest hug ever

“Hey” you greeted back, making him push you away a bit to be able to see your face. He was worried, as you could see.

“You good? That ‘hey’ didn’t sound as happy as I expected…Are you cheating on me?” you couldn’t help but laugh at his question and expression. It was typical of Sam to do anything possible to make you smile whenever he noticed you needed it. Your laughter was a sign that it was working and he smiled at you.

“Yeah I’m cheating on you, how could you tell?” you continued the joke as you two made it to the couch. He sat down beside you and helped you lie down on his lap.

“You don’t smell like coffee, which is odd since this entire house always smells like you work in Colombia exporting coffee. Seriously, do you guys don’t have, I don’t know, incense or something? You always stink”

Once again, you were a laughing mess. These conversations with Sam were so usual among you two and you loved it. The little bullying that came with the relationship was the cherry on top for you, and you enjoyed it deeply.

“Shut up, you always smell like you deal weed with Pablo Escobar and I never say shit” you never could stay behind with the teasing, and in this case, like always, Sam was laughing too.

“Escobar did cocaine, if you’re gonna tease me at least get your facts straight, darling”

You two kept on laughing at the little interaction as Sam continued stroking your hair the way he knew always calmed you down. It was working since you felt your eyelids heavier than before.

“Ok, going back to the original topic. What do I smell like, if not coffee?” you asked, realizing Sam wasn’t joking when he said smelt differently

“I don’t know, something nastier” you heard him sniff before continuing “I think it’s vomit?”

Your eyes were suddenly wide open and there was a knot in the throat that was hard to swallow. The memories of your morning came back in a rush and you felt your face burn red. You were thankful Sam couldn’t see it, and you thought of a quick answer.

“Um some kid threw up his macchiato in the bathroom and they sent the youngest employee to clean it” you lied while pointing at yourself. You hated hiding something from Sam but nothing inside of you was telling you to tell the truth.

“Ew, that’s authority abuse. You should rebel yourself, start a revolution. A coffee revolution!” Sam kept on joking, which was a relief for you. You couldn’t let him see through you at the moment.

The night went on as usual. Dinner was on Sam and it was delicious like always. The chatting was everlasting, with laughter and compliments, and some little stolen kisses in between. Then movie night took place, as planned. Luckily this time, the movie finished before Sam’s hand started wandering around your body. It means he was horny and, usually, you would be too. But Sam bringing back the smell of vomit and, with it, the memories of earlier, was turning you off every single time. You asked Sam to do it some other day, that you were too tired. He never insisted, and he nodded in agreement before placing a kiss on your head.

Not much later than that you two went to bed. It had been a really long day for the two of you, and your bodies could tell. The sigh of relief you two released the second you lied on the bed was a bit too real. You could really need some vacations alone with your boyfriend. Sleep didn’t take long to come and, soon, both of you were deep asleep.

You really needed a good night of sleep, but apparently tonight wasn’t the night. Some hours later, the need to throw up came back and you rushed to the bathroom. Exactly like it had happened earlier that day, you couldn’t stop from vomiting. You tried hard to not make any sound and you succeeded. However, nothing felt right. Your body was feeling better than ever yet it was asking you to vomit. You sat on the bathroom’s floor, contemplating your next move. There was only one option, really, and you knew it damn well.

You quickly moved to the living room where your purse was resting. You opened it slowly and took the only purchase you had made that day. The pregnancy test was looking at you eagerly, and you looked back with fear. Without giving second thoughts to it, you went back to the bathroom.

Those minutes you must wait for the results felt like torturous hours. You couldn’t stop shaking your leg as you checked the clock every two seconds. Finally, the time came and you ran towards the little plastic thing holding your whole future. The results were shining in front of your eyes, the latter soon lost their own sparkle.

You never noticed you had made it back to the room shared with your boyfriend, who then was sleeping like a baby. You searched for your voice but this one was gone. With your whole strength, you called his name.

“Sammy…?” it came out as a whisper, but to your surprise, Sam heard it perfectly. His eyes were partially open, though his expression was more of annoyance.

“Y/N? God, you better have a good reason for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn”

The lack of answer made Sam wake up in a second and he sat up on the bed to look at you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? You’re pale as fuck, what happened?” desperation was taking over Sam as he slowly tried to reach to you.

Your stare was lost and your mouth was slightly open, and as much as you tried to speak, no words came out of it. Sam swallowed as he stood up and, in a moment of clarity, he noticed you were holding something.

“Babygirl, what’s that?” he was scared to approach you more so he decided to keep a distance

“Your babygirl” you muttered back, laughing a bit at your response

“What?” Sam asked, losing the comprehension of the situation

You glanced at him and swallowed hard. It was hurting you, holding the truth and not being able to say it.

“I don’t know if it’s a girl, though” was all you could say, which only made Sam feel more lost.

“You gotta give me mor-” he started, chuckling softly

“I’m pregnant”

You suddenly felt like you were staring at a mirror, as Sam’s expression was soon exactly the same as yours. No words needed to be spoken, as the fear was evident in the atmosphere. Sam stayed there for a time, processing what you had just said. Your own fear started growing, now new concerns were bothering you. But Sam was not the kind of guy you feared he could be, and he approached you with the same warmth as the one he offered you when you came back from work. He hugged you tightly, watching not to hurt you, and whispered in your ear the words he knew would make all those concerns go away.

“You have just made me the happiest man on earth, Y/N”

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Good with Kids - Kristie Mewis x Reader

Prompt: Maybe like R is very hard but soft with kids? Idk whatever u want I don’t care as long as it’s Queen Mewis.

Note, so pretty sure this sucks, so let me know. 

“And the crew down there are my nieces and nephews,” Kristie motioned to the group pf young kids racing around the yard, the oldest being only eight, youngest three, trying to keep up the older kids. Y/N nodded seriously, taking in all the name and faces she had met at the family barbeque.

“Kristie, stop calling them that, it sounds like I have a stash of kids that no one knows about,” Sam stomped a foot, dramatically complaining to her sister.

“I don’t know family tree math,” Kristie shrugged her shoulders.

“Cousins Kris, they’re called cousins,” Sam rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, same thing,” Kristie smiled, knowing she was getting under her sisters skin, Y/N finally cracking a small smile.

“Not the same thing!” Sam exclaimed, she knew what Kristie was doing, but couldn’t help her reaction, drawing the attention of several other family members. Kristie grinned in return while her sister scowled, the family members all giggling, used to the two sisters bantering.

“Be nice to your sister Kristie,” her mom warned, with a smile.

Sam grinned triumphantly at her sister, who just rolled her eyes and tugged Y/N’s hand to the stairs of the deck, leading her to meet the group of kids.

“I thought you liked this girl Kristie,” one of her aunts teased when she saw where they were headed.

Kristie laughed, “I do,” she squeezed one of Y/N’s cheeks, drawing another small smile from the normally stoic woman, “but I think she’ll be able to handle herself.”

“Good, then come sit with me” her grandma cut in, shooing one of the other older grandchildren out of a chair next to her.

Kristie bit her lip and gave Y/N a hesitant look, Y/N giving her a reassuring smile and nod in return, pushing Kristie to sit with her grandparents.

Y/N walked the rest of the way down to kids playing tag in the grass. Kristie sat in the chair, shifting it so she could still see Y/N.

“She’s survived this long today, she won’t run away now,” her aunt teased, handing Kristie another beer.

“I know, but look at her,” Kristie motioned to where Y/N was already beginning to play tag with the kids, “she’s kind of hot, I want to look at her all the time,” she winked at another cousin across from her, drawing an eyeroll from everyone, her grandma giving her a gentle smack in the bicep.

The group grew and shrunk as the afternoon wore on, people coming and going, joining different groups or bouncing between them all. Kristie did her best to concentrate on the people around her, but her focus kept shifting down to the large yard where Y/N was still with the kids, them having accepted her as their own.

The kids and Y/N had found a youth size football, a small game going on. The word game used loosely, mostly the kids running around and Y/N gently throwing it for them to catch or running with it and them all tackling her to the ground. The adults all watched on, sharing smiles when they saw how happy all the kids were, Y/N distributing attention to them all, none of them feeling left out. Shifting easily to be a little rougher with the bigger kids, and incredibly gentle with the smaller ones.

“Alright, go get your kid and we’ll get ours,” one of the aunts smiled at Kristie, motioning to the group of kids attempting to drag Y/N down, “supper is ready.”

The pair made their way down the stairs, “supper guys, go wash your hands,” the aunt clapped her hands, gaining the attention of the group.

“Five more minutes!” the oldest called out.

“Yeah! Five more minutes!” Y/N called out from the bottom of the pile of kids, head popping up while she gently lifted a small body off her, it quickly replaced by another.

The rest of the parents all laughed, having been prepared to wrangle their own kids to the table, not expecting the lone adult to be difficult as well. Kristie stared at her girlfriend, mouth agape, before closing it and giving Y/N a hard stare.

Y/N immediately began sitting up, shifting kids to sit up with her, “supper guys! Lets go wash our hands!” the kids all began to scamper off her and race to the bathroom to wash their hands.

“Guess who just earned all future babysitting jobs,” one of the uncles patted Kristie on the back while following the rest of the family inside.

Kristie’s eyes never left Y/N as she pushed herself up once all limbs were untangled from her, brushing off any loose grass before meeting Kristie’s, giving her a wide smile.

“You really are a big kid, aren’t you?” Kristie met her as Y/N began to walk forward, wrapping her arms around her middle.

Y/N smiled down at the blonde, wrapping an arm of her own around Kristie’s shoulders, the couple making their way to the house.

Y/N pulled away when they walked in the house, washing her hands, before sitting at the table next to Kristie.

Supper was a loud, busy thing. Family all talking over each other, stories being thrown about, gentle ribbing all around.  

“You are nothing like these two described you, Y/N,” an aunt smiled across the table, shooting a smirk to Kristie, who rolled her eyes at the teasing.

“Oh?” Y/N turned, giving Kristie a smirk of her own, then shifting her eyes to Sam, who blushed at the look.

“Yupp!” an uncle grinned as well, “Sammy makes you sound terrifying,” he nudged the blushing blonde, “I think she’s scared of you.” Y/N had a hard exterior, and was very quiet, many people interpreting both for her to be very unapproachable.

“I am not!” Sam was quick to defend herself, “I’m not scared of you Y/N,” she looked at Y/N eyes wide, still blushing, Y/N continued to smirk at her, “I’m not!”

“Sure you’re not Sammy,” Y/N just winked, “what are you telling them?”

“Nothing! Kristie says stuff,” Sam stammered out, trying to push the blame onto her sister, pointing across the table. Kristie giggled at how flushed her sister got over nothing.

“They’re fishing Ssmmy,” Kristie smiled, resting a hand on Y/N’s thigh, the couple smiling as Sam flopped back in her chair, mouth wide, realizing she fell right into it.

The table as laughing at Sam, Kristie squeezed Y/N’s thigh, leaning slightly into her side, tilting her chin up and smiling at her girlfriend.

Someone else was about to tease Sam as well, but was cut off by cutlery hitting a plate, a loud “no” being called from the children’s table further down. Everyone looked over to a pouting toddler, arms crossed, lips pursed out, eyebrows furrowed. An exasperated ten year old glaring down. Letting out a sigh, an aunt pushed up from the table, squatting in between the children, working to sooth both upset children.

After a few minutes, the aunt stood up with the toddler in her arms, taking the plate off the table with her and returning to her original seat, toddler remaining on her lap.

The pout remained firm on the toddler’s face with his face tucked into his mom’s neck. Everyone else ignored the outburst, resuming conversation, mom continuing to try and encourage the boy to eat.

Part of the face peaked out, shyly trying to glance around the table, making eye contact with Y/N who made a funny face before anyone else noticed. Giggling, he tucked his face back in briefly, before coming back out, Y/N giving him another silly face.

His mom tried to encourage a fork of food, a grumbled “no”, and his face burrowed back in. Letting out a sigh, she dropped the fork back to his plate, going back to her own.

Y/N bit her lip when she noticed a small hand creep out and towards her plate, one eye peeking out from his mom’s shoulder. She slid her plate closer to the boy, offering her fork out to him. Supressing her own giggle, she watched while the boy awkwardly fisted the fork and stabbed blindly at food on her own plate, no one else at the table aware, having moved on to teasing someone else. The boys head finally lifted fully to put the forkful of food in his mouth, not gaining the attention of his mom.

“Oh Y/N I am so sorry,” she apologized once she realized where the fork of food had come from, noticing the plate of food pushed closer to them.

“Don’t worry about it, my food is just better I guess,” Y/N smirked, shrugging one shoulder, everyone giggling as the small boy reached out for another forkful of food.

“How come at camp you threatened to stab me with my own fork when I wanted to try some of your food?” Sam gasped when she watched the boy go in for a third forkful.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N played coy, rotating the plate to give the boy something else to stab, subtly encouraging the pile of broccoli on the other side.

The boy crinkled his nose, trying to spear another piece of chicken on the far end. Y/N intercepted the fork, taking it into her own hand, and making a show of picking up broccoli and enjoying the bite. Winking at the boy, she stabbed a smaller piece, twirling the fork for his to take it.

Instead of using his hands, he leaned forward, eating off the fork while Y/N held it. His mom rolled her eyes, everyone else giggling at the boy. He pulled himself out of his moms arm, crawling awkwardly into Y/N’s lap.

“No, buddy, you can’t sit in Y/N’s lap,” his mom gripped his hips to try and pull him back.

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N helped guide him the rest of the way, helping him settle in her lap.

Kristie stared lovingly at her girlfriend, watching as Y/N guided another forkful of broccoli into his mouth, the boy shook his head, refusing the vegetable. Y/N smiled, diverting the fork to her mouth, taking the bite with a dramatic chomping sound. His eyes tracked the motion, before clumsily picked up his fork to mimic the action.

Y/N smirked and shot a wink to his mom, everyone’s mouths dropping when he took another without prompting. The meal continued on, the pair continuing to eat off each other’s plates, the boy no longer complaining about eating any of the food.

Desert took everyone to the backyard, a fire having been started, ingredients for smores set out. Several of the kids having found their way to Y/N’s lap, one sat on either thigh, a third squished in the middle, and two more with chairs pulled as close as possible on either side.

Everyone watched while Y/N gave each child equal attention, helping one put a marshmallow on the skewer while answering another’s question, managing to keep all settled.

“You’ve got a good one Kristie,” an aunt leaned over when she saw the blonde watching her girlfriend, her gave soft, smile wide as she took in the woman with all the kids.

Kristie shyly looked away, “I know,” she looked to her aunt, “except now she has me jealous of a bunch of kids.”

They watched as Y/N helped a smaller hand onto to one stick, her other protectively holding a leaning body off her knee.

“That’s alright, I am too,” the uncle on the other side chuckled, “we have spent years trying to get them to all get along and she strolls in and does it without even trying.”

The adults kept an eye on the kids and Y/N, looking over frequently when they noticed how quiet the whole group had gotten. Parents brought their phones out, snapping several pictures of the entire crew asleep. Y/N reclined in the chair, three bodies in her lap leaning into her chest, two on either side snuggled under each arm.  

[jensenismywholelife]

Brother

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Death

Summary: Dean goes off to fight Metatron by himself but You and Sam follow him. You waited to long to go into the warehouse because that's when everything turned horrible.

Sam Dean and (Y/n) were trying to fight off Metatron together, but Dean decided to go on his own. He said it was to dangerous for the both of them so it just had to be him. Sam and (Y/n) lied and said they were okay with him going on his own, but they followed and made it to where Dean and Metatron were. They waited about 15 minutes until they got out of the car and started asking around.

"Hey have you seen a tall guy with short light brown hair, he's got green eyes, brown leather jacket" (Y/n) asked softly. She was gonna make sure to find her brother. A lady walked up to her with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised “And who might you be?” The lady asked

"And why should we tell you" Another guy asked, stepping behind her “We don’t know you, or Sasquatch over there.” He said and had a dirty look on his face.

"Because he's my god damn brother and he's in danger. Now tell me where the hell he is before i beat it out of you" (Y/n) said, stepping closer to them with her gun in her hand, as she gripped it tightly. Sam quickly grabbed her pulling her back “Hey, hey just relax ok?” He grabbed her gun “Look..we just need to get to our brother before anything bad happens to him. Please just tell us where he is” Sam said softly.

"That warehouse there. That guy that you described he's in there. Someone else went in before him though, he was older, short, gray curly hair, said his name was Marv or something like that" A teenage looking boy said to her and Sam. (Y/n) and Sam quickly have each other a look.

"Metatron" They both said and she shot the young boy a smile “Thank you kid..” (Y/n) and Sam quickly ran off to the warehouse. They ran up and down the steps of the place until they got to Dean and Metatron. Once they found them, Dean was sat against a wall, all beaten up and bloody. As they were both about to run to him Metatron immediately stabbed his in his chest with an angel blade.

"NO!" (Y/n) and Sam screamed. Metatron just looked at both of them and disappeared. They both ran to Dean and he was just so weak. (Y/n) got on her knees and held up his face. "Dean, Dean! Stay with me" She said, tearing up. Sam ripped off part off his shirt and (Y/n) quickly held it against the wound.

"Sammy, (Y/n), just stop, this..this mark is making me into something that i don't want to be. I'm turning into a monster and this…this is how it was gonna end anyway. I die and you two live a normal life. Now go, before things get worse" Dean choked out.

"Dean shut up, were not leaving you, were gonna get you to a hospital and everything will be alright. I’m not gonna let you die. I promise." She said. She wasn’t gonna let her brother go. "There isn't anything they can do" Dean said looking into her eyes with his glossy green ones, his breathing shortening.

"If they can't do anything i will, I'm gonna help you, I got you brother" (Y/n) said. Dean didn't speak he just closed his eyes and leaned his head back in pain. Her and Sam helped him up and began walking him out of there "Why are you two here anyway, What happened to you being okay with this" Dean asked.

"We lied" She said. She would never let Dean go off knowing something like this would happen. "Ain't that a bitch" Dean said. (Y/n) smiled a bit, Dean always knew how to make a joke out of something. They made it a little farther from where everything happened before Dean stopped them.

"Guys hold up, hold up" Dean said. They leaned him against a little wall and looked at each other “I gotta say something to you two" Dean said, Her and Sam just gave each other another look. "I'm proud of us, I'm proud of all of us" Dean said, and smiled weakly resting each of his hands against (Y/n) and Sam’s cheeks.

"(Y/n) you are the most annoying little sister a guy could ever ask for, b-but i love that about you" Dean said, letting out a light chuckle. "And you Sam, your j-just a nerd" Dean said, making them all laugh a bit.

"I love y-you" Dean said and he just fell into (Y/n)‘s arms. "Hey, hey wake up Dean" She said pulling him up with his face in her hands.

"Dean" Sam said shaking him.

"DEAN!" She yelled and that was it, he was gone. Their brother was gone.

[holylulusworld]

Broken Love

Requested by @elsamc13 (Find the full request here: GoogleDoc)

Title: Broken Love

Square Filled for @j3bingo​​​​: Miscommunication

2021 J3 Bingo masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Hannah, Jack Kline, Castiel, Jody Mills, OC Peter

Warnings: heavy angst (I’m not joking, bitches), language, arguments, talk about pregnancy, sick reader, medical terms, blood, curses, Dean being an asshole, just like Sam, almost death, pregnant reader?, mentions of cheating, reader is fatally ill

Summary: Life can be a bitch.

Word Count: 4,1 k

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​

Please head the warnings for this story. I contains adult content involving fatal illness, blood and heavy angst.

“Do you want to have children one day?” Jack asks out of the blue. Dean’s head snaps toward the young boy, frowning before a dreamy sigh leaves his lips. “Dean?”

“Yeah, it would be great. If I imagine having children, it’s with Y/N. I wonder if the little bean will look like her. Imagine having little Dean or little Y/N run around the bunker.”

“We should find a room for a cradle and buy toys,” whilst Jack already plans to go on a shopping spree, you walk back into the library, wondering why Dean, Sam, Jack, and Castiel watch you with big grins on their faces.

“Something wrong? Do I have ketchup on my cheek?” you joke, sitting on a chair next to Dean, patting his thigh. “What are you troublemakers up to this morning?”

“Y/N, we talked about having children,” Dean smiles widely, grasping for your hand. “Right, you want kids too. I already—”

Your face falls and you jump up, shaking your head furiously. “I-I don’t want kids. You should know in life like ours we can’t have children. Daydreaming about something you can never have, is just stupid.”

“Sweetheart,” your boyfriend gasps. He never saw you get angry at him or Jack. Now your nostrils flare and you press your fists to your chest. “Last time we talked about having a family you were excited and now…”

“Things change, Dean. Life happens and—” you choke the words out, pressing one hand to your mouth. “I need to—fuck,” you run out of the library to reach the bathroom.

“What was that?” Sam asks, assuming you suffer from morning sickness. “WAIT! Maybe she’s already pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell you, Dean.”

“Why should Y/N freak out if she’s already pregnant Sammy?” Dean wonders aloud, frowning when you don’t come back. “Do you think I should check on here?”

“I would give her space Dean. She was really angry,” Castiel frowns, pondering why you would freak out like this.

“Not again,” you throw up once again, crying when you see more blood hit the toilet. “Shit, it’s getting worse. I don’t have much time left before Dean will find out.” You sniff. “I should finally see a doctor.”

“Sweetheart, are you alright? Do you need anything?” Dean asks from outside of the bathroom. “Shall I come in?”

“No!” you tut. “I just threw up and it smells bad in here. Give me a few minutes. I’m sorry for freaking out, baby. I’ll be right back, okay.”

“Okay,” a big smile plastered on his face Dean almost runs toward the library, panting when he reaches his friends and brother. “Dude, she threw up! You were right, Sammy! She’s pregnant.”

“AWESOME,” Sam smirks, getting up to pat Dean’s shoulder.

“That’s my line, but yeah,” Dean feels his chest swell. “I got my girl pregnant. Now, let’s think about names…”

Dean is fast asleep when you sneak out to meet up with an old friend. You saved Peter’s life years ago, while you were on a hunt with Jody. Around six months ago he moved to Lebanon, to work at the local hospital.

He agreed to see you tonight at the hospital, to run a few tests. Peter didn’t say much when you described your problems, but he choked out a sob when you told him about the blood and the pain in your chest and stomach.

When a doctor falls silent and chokes out a sob, it’s never a good sign. So you silently slip out of the bed to grab your clothes. Sam and Jack are already asleep and Castiel is doing whatever the angel does when he’s not around.

This way you can leave the bunker without worrying anyone.

Maybe it’s only a stomach bug or you got gall stones. Taking a deep breath you glance at Dean, smiling when he mumbles your name in his sleep.

It pains you to keep him in the dark, but you are afraid he will freak out getting to know you feel sick for weeks.

“Peter, just say it,” you chew on your lower lip, looking up at your friend. “I’m close to freaking out. Please tell me what’s wrong with me.”

“We—I don’t know,” he sighs, shaking his head. “yet. We will get the results tomorrow. What I can tell you is that something is wrong with your blood. I just don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Oh—” you swallow thickly. Just like you feared it isn’t a stomach bug or something simple keeping you awake every night. “I—thank you. I will come back tomorrow then.”

“I’ll make sure to talk to my boss about the results. He’s an expert, the best when it comes to strange symptoms,” Peter says, squeezing your hand. “I owe you one for saving me all those years ago.”

“No, you don’t, but thank you again…”

“Sneaking out in the middle of the night, Y/N. Really?” Dean grunts the moment you step inside the room. “I was worried sick and here you are, walking into the room as if you weren’t away for three fucking hours.”

“Dean let’s just go back to sleep,” too tired and emotionally pumped up you try to calm Dean before your argument can escalate. “I needed fresh air, okay. A lot is going on in my mind right now. I would’ve called if I knew you were awake.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Y/N. First, you almost rip my head off for wanting a baby with you, then you sneak out in the middle of the night,” he growls, jabbing his finger into your shoulder. “…and now you lie straight into my face.”

“I didn’t lie, Dean,” you don’t want to worry Dean, so you lie to him once again. “Let’s go back to sleep. I’m here now and don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Maybe I want to fight,” he argues, but you walk toward your side of the bed to sit down. “Y/N don’t turn your back toward me. Talk to me.”

“I can’t,” you hold back the tears. “Give me a few more days and I’ll pour you in. For now, let me sleep…”

“How bad is it, Peter. Just say it,” you sniffle, seeing the pained expression on your friend’s face. “You are scaring me, Pete.”

“We still don’t know what’s the cause, but we know that all of your organs—” he sniffs, closing your file. “You are experiencing multiple organ-system failures, Y/N. It’s a miracle you are still alive.”

Your legs give in and Peter must catch you to help you sit on a chair. “But that’s impossible. I know you checked my kidneys and lung function, but how can all of my organs stop function at the same time?”

“I—I don’t know, Y/N. As I said, you should be dead in your condition. It’s a miracle you can even walk. Something seems to slow the process down, but I’m afraid you will not survive the next month,” now the tears run freely, and you choke out a sob. “Thank you, Peter, for being honest.”

“I wish I could do more, Y/N. You saved my life, and all my knowledge doesn’t help me to save you,” Peter sniffs, handing you your file. “Maybe, and that’s just a thought, this your sickness doesn’t have a natural cause.”

“You mean someone cursed me or something?” you wonder aloud, fiddling with your file. “I should ask a friend in that case.”

“Either way, Y/N you should come here at least twice a week. I can run more tests, give you pain meds and help you with side effects of the medication.”

“I will do so, Peter—” what else can you do but to get up and hug your friend. “Thank you for trying.”

You pace back and forth, groaning when Dean won’t stop yelling once again. It’s been a week since Peter told you that there is no hope or treatment to save your life, so you decided to visit Rowena to ask her for advice.

Her words still ring in your head when Dean throws another harsh word at you. All you can think about are her words and the worried look on her face when she told you that Chuck cursed you before his end and that no one is strong enough to heal you.

Not even the Queen of Hell, not even your angelic friends. No one is going to save you, but she reserved a nice spot in hell for you, to make sure you’ll get special treatment. The good kind of treatment, of course.

“I’m tired of arguing,” you run out of the room and toward the bathroom. Opening the toilet lit just in time to throw up more blood. You cry, silently praying you will find a way to stop the curse, but you know better than to believe in fairytales.

“She throws up again,” Sam whispers, watching his brother press his ear to the door. “Maybe she’s scared of being pregnant?”

“This doesn’t explain she sneaks out of the bunker every other day,” Dean grunts, “I got the feeling she’s seeing someone else. Maybe she got mad when I talked about having a baby as that guy knocked her up.”

“You think so?” Sam furrows his brows. He never thought you would cheat on his brother. You seemed to be deeply in love with Dean. “I mean, she throws up a lot and sneaks out at the oddest times but—”

“I’m going to follow her tonight. It’s been a month since she first sneaked out and now, I got enough. She won’t talk to me or let me touch her. Y/N always tells me she’s tired or shit,” nodding Sam watches his brother storm off, wondering if you are cheating on his brother or if there is a reason for your behavior change.

“Y/N, how do you feel?” Peter asks worriedly. He knows your results didn’t bring new insight for his colleagues and wonders if your friends could help you. “Anything from Rowena?”

“She can’t help me, and it gets worse every day. I can barely walk without screaming in pain. It gets harder to hide my sickness from my friends and Dean. That’s why I’m here tonight,” you wrap your arms around Peter’s neck to kiss his cheek softly. “I came to say goodbye and thank you for everything.”

“I knew it!” you shriek when Dean storms toward you and Peter. “All this time you told me you are tired or don’t feel well only to get all cozy with doctor perfect over here.” Dean pushes Peter away, growling like a feral wolf. “Hands off her!”

“Dean, let me explain,” you try when Dean twirls around to angrily stare down at you. “Peter is a friend, and he tried to—”

“Fuck a baby into you? Is it that? Did that douche knock you up and you tried to pretend it’s mine,” Dean mocks, shaking his head. “I knew you are a slut. Why would a girl fuck a guy like me the first night she met him?”

You backhand Dean, take him by surprise when you glare up at the hunter. “How can you think so low about me? I never had sex with another man since we became a thing. I would never do such a thing to you. You know what, I’ll go back to the bunker and pack my shit…”

“Seriously, a doctor? That’s the guy you chose over my brother?” Sam is hot on your heels when you try to keep your emotions in control. “What did you swallow your tongue? You know, I defended you over the last weeks.”

“Leave me be,” you cry, almost tripping over your feet. You can feel your body falling apart every day more and fighting with the man you love and his brother doesn’t help you to not break down right now.

“We considered you family, I considered you family,” Sam yells when you begin packing your things. “Now you just throw Dean under the bus to get happy with a doctor. Is it the money?”

“Sam, just stop—” you can’t tell them about your condition right now. If you do, you’re not even sure they would believe you. Not after Dean freaked out at the hospital.

“How could you cheat on Dean? I can’t believe you! Sneaking out to meet up with that guy whilst my brother worried all the time,” hands-on his hips Sam watches your shoulders slump. You slowly turn around, tears in your eyes.

“You are not my family anymore, none of you,” you spit out. “I know Dean believes I cheated on him with Peter, but this is so far from the truth, Sam. But you,” gesturing wildly you weep, “break my heart believing I would do such a thing to your brother. I—I need to get out of here…”

“Open the door,” you groan when Jody knocks at your motel room. You must’ve forgotten to turn off your phone and now Sam traced it to send another person to call you slut or worse. “How could you do this to Dean?” she yells the moment you open the door. “I never thought you would cheat on Dean.”

“Jody, not you too,” you sigh. You barely slept last night. Your body is slowly giving up and now there is another person you considered family storming into your motel room. “I’m not cheating on Dean with Peter. Do you remember Peter? The doctor we saved. He—”

The slap hitting your face catches you off-guard. Normally you would take a slap like a champion but in your weakened state, it causes you to stumble and fall. You struggle to get back up and just now Jody sees you must’ve lost a lot of weight.

Your body trembles and you can barely keep yourself upright when you finally get back up on your feet. “Something is wrong with you,” she whispers, grasping for your arm to help you sit on the bed. “Y/N, is that the reason you were at the hospital?”

“I’m dying okay,” you sniffle, wiping your eyes. “Peter ran all the tests and tried anything, but they can’t save me. Rowena said that Chuck cursed me before he faded away. There is nothing she can do.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Jody wraps you in a hug, lets you cry into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. But why didn’t you tell Dean or Sam?”

“I wanted to last night. Jody, I wanted to say goodbye to Peter first and thank him but then Dean saw us and now it’s too late. My last wish was to die in Dean’s arms, and to hear him whisper ‘I love you one last time,” you choke out a sob. “I wanted him to tell me that everything is going to be alright. Dean always calmed me when I was in despair.”

 “We will drive back to the bunker, and you will fill the boys in. Dean must listen to you when I’m around. Maybe, Castiel and Jack can help you,” Jody tuts when you shake your head. “No discussion, Y/N. We will go now…”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean glares at you walk into the bunker, Jody by your side. Whilst your boyfriend wants to throw you out, Sam looks at you, disgusted.

“Dean, I need to tell you something. Please give me five minutes,” you plead and Jody grasps for your hand to squeeze it tightly. “Please—”

“I won’t listen to more lies, Y/N,” he huffs. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Dean, stop!” Jody says, stepping in front of you. “I’m begging you to listen to Y/N. I swear you will regret it if you don’t let her explain a few things.”

“I don’t want to listen to her,” Dean sneers, glancing at you behind Jody. “She’s my biggest mistake. I regret I ever even talked to her.”

“Biggest…mistake,” you whimper, stumbling backward. It feels like Dean just ripped your heart out and your body finally gives in to the curse. “You won’t be sad losing me then…”

“Y/N, fuck!” Jody watches you pass out, hitting the floor before she can catch you. “Shit, we need to bring her to the hospital!”

“Why? So, her lover can check on her baby?” Dean snaps at Jody, but he can feel his chest tightening when you cough blood.

“No, as she’s dying, Dean. Now stop wasting more time!”

“This can’t be,” Dean watches your chest rise and fall. You don’t breathe on your own any longer. Machines keep you alive and he falls to his knees next to your hospital bed, choking on his tears.

“She came here for a few tests,” Peter says, fighting more tears. “We can’t say what is killing her, but she doesn’t have much time left. Y/N said something about Rowena and that someone called Chuck cursed her.”

“Chuck?” Sam asks, watching Jody run her hand over your hair. “Oh, god. All the things I said to her. What are we going to do now? There must be something we can do.”

“Can we agree to not blame Y/N for shit first?” Jody grumbles, glaring at Dean who grasps for your hand, holding it to his lips. “Dean…”

“I called her a whore, slut, and worse. Jody, I told her that she’s my biggest mistake not an hour ago,” he sniffles, holding onto your hand for dear life. “I can’t lose her.”

“Do you think Chuck cursed her to finally break us?” Sam asks, glancing at Jody. “Shit, I didn’t tell Jack and Castiel we are at the hospital. They are still out for ice cream. I lied about Y/N’s whereabouts too.”

“You lied to an angel?” Jody asks. “Is that even possible? I mean, why didn’t Castiel and Jack sense something is wrong with Y/N.”

“I think it has something to do with whatever Chuck did to Y/N. He wanted to make sure no one can sense her sickness, not even Castiel or Jack,” whilst his elder brother rests his head on your chest, mumbling apologies, Sam tries to stop his heart from taking over. “Let me just talk to Cas.”

Sam combs through his brain to find a way to save you.

“Rowena said she can’t help Y/N. We tried anything to find a therapy to help Y/N. It’s like her body destroys itself from the inside. All organs fight to fail first. If not for the machines, she would be dead,” Peter sniffs, looking at your file again. “We reached the end of the rope.”

“This can’t be,” Dean whispers, “Sweetheart, you gotta wake up. I’m so sorry. Please, you are the best thing ever happening to me. I can’t let you go, and I won’t. If I must go to hell again, I’ll do it for you, just wake up.”

“Dean,” Jody tries to calm her friend, but he clings to your fading body, holds tight onto you as if he can heal you with his willpower. “We will find a way. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I called Cas and Jack. They are on their way with backup,” Sam says, praying to whoever is willing to listen that his friends know how to save you. If not, his brother will fall into a dark pit of despair.”

“Let me check on her, Dean,” Castiel tries to get Dean away from you but the hunter clings to you as his life depends on feeling you against him. “Dean, please. I can’t help her if you don’t let me touch her.”

“Why didn’t you know something is wrong with Y/N? You should’ve known she’s sick and scared,” the hunter sniffs as he reluctantly gets off the bed. He kisses your temple, sighing when your skin feels too cold.

“I don’t know, Dean. If only I checked on her lately,” the angel sighs. “Jack, Hannah, and I will try to help her. I can’t promise it will work,” Castiel carefully touches your forehead, aware Dean stands right behind him, wringing his hands.

 “Please, you gotta help here, Cas,” Dean sniffs, wiping his eyes. “I can’t lose her.”

“We will try our best, now let us begin,” Hannah touches your chest whilst Jack focuses on your stomach. “All at once. We need to float her body with the right amount of grace. If we use too much, she could die.”

“Let’s synchronize our powers and focus on each other,” Castiel says, nodding at Jack. “We got to do it now before it’s too late.”

Dean can only watch his friends and Hannah float your body with their graces. They mumble words in Enochian, chanting the words along with your name.

Your body seizes up and you fight against the tube in your throat, your eyes snap open and for a moment you look at Dean. And then you fall back into the darkness you saw before, body shaking in pain and agony until, the heart monitor shows one single line.

“NO! What are you doing to her?” Dean tries to stop Castiel and the others, but Sam holds him back. “Let me go, Sammy!” They are killing her.”

“Dean, let them help her. You know we’ve got no other choice. If Chuck was the one cursing her, we need all their strength,” Sam won’t let go of Dean, even if it breaks his heart to feel his brother struggle against him.

“No—they are going to—” Castiel nods at Jack and Hannah, silently tells them to hang on. “Cas, please.”

“Now, we need to float her whole being, purify her cursed body,” the angels begin to chant with passion, call the strength of their brothers and sisters until a blinding light breaks through the windows, hitting your body.

Light envelopes your body and your whole being, lifts you from the bed. It feels like you’re floating on air when you flutter your eyes open.

“It’s done, this is all we could do, Dean,” Castiel whispers, too weak to even speak.

Castiel, Jack, and Hannah fall to their knees, unable to move or to get back up.

“We don’t know if it was enough,” Hannah says when you fall back onto the bed with a loud thud, losing consciousness. “There is not enough strength in heaven for another try…”

“How is she? Do you have the results? Did it work?” Dean tries to get answers whilst Peter checks on you. “Doc, please.”

“Looks like she’s got a broken ankle thanks to the magical show the angel gave us,” Peter says, looking at your results. “We fixed it. Next time tell those guys to be more careful with the landing.”

“That’s not funny,” grasping for your hand Dean waits for you to open your eyes. “Sweetheart, please wake up. It’s me, Dean. I’m so sorry for all the things I said.”

“I’ll leave you alone now,” giving Dean a pat to his shoulder Peter smiles. “We all make mistakes when we are in love, Dean. Ask my husband, he knows once in a while the green monster makes me do stupid things.”

“Y/N, baby girl,” you slowly blink your eyes open only to watch Dean pounce on you. “God, you are awake. How do you feel? Cas, Jack, and Hannah healed you. No, wait. The fucking heaven helped, babe. Can you believe they used all their strength to save one single life?”

“Well, my ass is worth saving,” you cough, looking up at Dean. “Did you mean it? All of it? Do you want to put a baby in me and marry? Do you really want to buy a family car?”

“Shit, you heard every word?” Dean grumbles, remembering he offered to sell Baby.

“I’ll keep you up on every promise,” you smirk when he brings you into his arms to bury his face in your neck, “but we won’t sell Baby. That won’t happen, Winchester.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for what I said. I swear you are the best thing ever happening to me. And we can wait, baby girl,” he pecks your neck, sighing when you wrap your arms around his neck. “I’ll give you a baby whenever you are ready.”

“Oh—hey,” Peter awkwardly walks back into the room, clearing his throat to get your attention. “Sorry, to disturb you again. I checked on the results again and now, we are sure.”

“Wait, is something wrong?” your boyfriend panics, head snapping toward your friend. “Please don’t tell me I will lose her…”

“No, Dean. It’s the opposite,” Peter smiles, stepping closer to your hospital bed. “Congratulations, you are going to have a baby. I think that’s what kept Y/N alive.”

“We are going to have a baby?” you whimper, feeling lightheaded. “Fuck,” you wrap your arms around Dean, crying in his chest. “I guess the small piece of you inside of me gave me strength like you always do…”

SPN Forever Tags

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

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

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[therealvinelle]

I know this is like taking a bat to the beehive but... I really wanna hear your opinions on the whole... Imprinting thing

(Note before we go any further: this meta is written purely about the shapeshifting aspect of the Quileute characters, I don’t at all get into the racism in Twilight or any kind of social commentary. This is a purely watsonian meta. Others in this fandom have already addressed the racial dynamics at play, far more eloquently and knowledgeably than me. If I say something in here that’s in any way offensive, that’s not my intention and I’m open to criticism.)

Ooh imprinting.

I touch upon it here, basically I hate it.

The imprinting is part of this theme where the shapeshifters lose their free will and autonomy, and I find it tragic, cruel, and unnecessary.

First of, the fact that they have to phase at all.

They’re made warriors to protect their tribe. There’s no choice involved, only genetics and magic irrevocably changing their lives, and at a ridiculously young age, too. Sam is the oldest of them, and he is 19.

Violence is an inherent part of what they become. Their purpose is to protect the tribe, by fighting vampires. Not only is this insanely dangerous (we see Jake get so injured by a single vampire that he’s bedridden for weeks), but if they succeed, they will have killed. In the singularly brutal manner of tearing apart and burning someone who looks a lot like a human, who talks and might beg for their life, at that. And I remind you, most of these shapeshifters are literal children. They might not see vampires as people, but all the same, killing one can’t be good for their mental wellbeing. (Thought: Perhaps an argument can be made for Laurent’s death having a part in the turn Jake’s personality took? Some, though not many, of the symptoms for PTSD do fit. I don’t know enough about PTSD to pursue this train of thought, but it occurred to me just now, in particular he becomes quite aggressive and prone to outbursts after that incident, so into a parenthesis it goes)

Not to mention how inhumane that responsibility is. Vampires in the Twilight-verse are terrifying, and the shapeshifters might have the power to fight them. But (and this is where I plug one of my all-time favorite animes, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, as it asks the question “Is it okay to sacrifice yourself for others?” because that’s... well there’s a parallel to be made to the shapeshifters. It’s on Netflix!) does that mean they should? Is it really their responsibility? Again- they’re kids!

Then there’s the time Sam lost control, and accidentally mauled the girl he loved. And it’s so cruel to both him and Emily. Sam never chose to have to control himself in the first place, he never chose shapeshifting. He didn’t choose to imprint on Emily either, and he didn’t choose to lose control that day. At no point in the series of events that led to Emily being mauled did Sam have any real choice, and yet he will shoulder the guilt for what happened for the rest of his life.

These kids get superpowers, and several of them seem to enjoy being shapeshifters, but the fact remains that they now carry this huge responsibility to protect their families and homes, doing so is incredibly dangerous, they lose out on their regular lives, and they can’t opt out of it.

This all sucks, but then we get to the fact that they are deprived of their free will, as their alpha can issue an order they physically can’t break. The alpha becomes alpha because of bloodlines, not because of a democratic election. Jake got a mockery of a choice in that he could choose to become alpha himself, or let Sam continue, which was really just choosing between a rock and a hard place. There is no limitation to what this order can be, from “don’t say X to person Y” to “let’s kill someone you love”. Jake has to struggle to break that last one, and he’s only successful because of the bloodline thing letting him become his own alpha.

Oh, and there’s the massive invasion of privacy when they have a hive mind. Cool concept, less cool to have it be reality. Leah is the poster child for how a hive mind can backfire, and they can’t opt out of this.

I’m not good at gifs, but the shapeshifters just make me think of that gif of someone flicking a lightswitch on and off, “WELCOME TO HELL!”. Of course, Twilight in general is a pit of despair for everybody, so I suppose that gif really is... well it sums up all of canon.

So, we have these kids aged 19 or younger, as of Breaking Dawn they skew as young as thirteen, their lives are turned upside down by something they can’t opt out of, they must shoulder this huge responsibility to protect their homes and families from the terrifying threat of vampires, and on top of all of that, they must obey orders that are so irresistible, they can compel them to harm someone they care for.

With all of that in mind, you’d think that the shapeshifters had enough on their plate. That through all of this they would at least retain their selves, and be able to look forward to a future where they could stop phasing, and go on to live normal, human, lives.

Yeah, NOT IF THEY IMPRINT.

I’ll just quote Jake’s description:

Everything inside me came undone as I stared at the tiny porcelain face of the halfvampire, half-human baby. All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in swift cuts, like clipping the strings to a bunch of balloons. Everything that made me who I was—my love for the dead girl upstairs, my love for my father, my loyalty to my new pack, the love for my other brothers, my hatred for my enemies, my home, my name, my self—disconnected from me in that second—snip, snip, snip—and floated up into space. 

I was not left drifting. A new string held me where I was. 

Not one string, but a million. Not strings, but steel cables. A million steel cables all tying me to one thing—to the very center of the universe. 

I could see that now—how the universe swirled around this one point. I’d never seen the symmetry of the universe before, but now it was plain. 

The gravity of the earth no longer tied me to the place where I stood. (Breaking Dawn, page 237)

Everything that made me who I was disconnected from me.

Jake’s love for his father, his home, his very own self, it’s all gone now. And while I have thoughts on the authenticity of this imprint, whether it was organic, the description above is apparently how imprinting feels. It’s along the lines of what Sam, Jared, and Paul all describe.

I don’t think I can put into words just how devastating I find imprinting, I think the above quotation speaks for itself. And as with all other shapeshifter things, there is no choice involved.

We see its devastating effects in the Emily, Sam, and Leah debacle. Sam and Leah were serious together, so much so that they were engaged. Sam had fallen for and chosen to be with Leah. Perhaps they would have broken up eventually, but Leah was still the choice he made. Then he imprints on Emily, and all that is for naught. He had to break up with Leah, who if she hadn’t phased never would have learned why, Emily and Leah’s relationship is ruined, and Emily must forever live with the knowledge that if Sam had his free will intact he would be with another woman.

Then there’s Jared and Kim. Kim crushed on Jared, but Jared never noticed her. The fact that they were in the same class is damning: if a boy is attracted to a girl, he's gonna notice her. Jared never did.

Quil imprints on Claire, who is a toddler. That’s just a recipe for misery and disaster all around.

And I’ve only touched the shapeshifter side of things. They lose their autonomy and freedom, but the imprintées draw the short straw too. They’re now responsible for this other person’s happiness. Sure, having someone who’ll be whatever you need them to be sounds nice (well, it sounds horrifying, but I’m playing ball) on paper, but you can’t opt out of them being like that. The imprintée can’t say “Sorry, not interested,” and she certainly can’t shut the imprinter out of her life, not without irrevocably ruining the imprinter’s life. The imprinter needs her. She’s the center of his earth now, but she didn’t choose to be.

Imprinting is a liferuiner for everyone involved.

Then we have the question of what imprinting is even for. I’m afraid I agree with Billy, that it’s for procreation. We see Sam, who was dating a woman about to phase (even if Leah isn’t infertile, she’s a warrior now. She can’t run in the woods and fight vampires, and gestate and nurse a child at the same time) conveniently imprint on her cousin, who as cousin to Leah is from a shifter bloodline. Claire, as Emily’s cousin, has those same genetics. Paul imprints on a woman from the Black family line. Jake is the outlier, but either Renesmée’s gift helped that imprinting along, or he imprinted because of the offspring they could potentially have (I firmly believe it’s the former because the latter... NOPE. Also, I can’t imagine whatever magic drives imprinting would want vampiric progeny for the future generations. Regardless of Renesmée’s person, her biology is wired to desire human blood. That’s exactly what Jake is supposed to protect people from. Bad match.).

I just.... ughhh. God, I hate imprinting so much, and on every level.

To me, everything about the shapeshifters is about free will, autonomy, and the loss thereof. And it would have been beautiful if their story was about reclaiming that, but it isn’t. None of this, with the exception of the alpha orders, is even acknowledged.

So, in summation, yes I hate imprinting, but it’s only the horror cherry on top of a very sad and problematic cake.

[heliads]

The Football Player (Part One)

Based on this request: “Bucky is a football player and you are a fan of the team but you're also really shy. Secretly Bucky also developed a crush on you. He sees you getting mocked by some idiots and he gets in between to stand up for you. Later then he asks you for a walk and he kisses you.”

masterlist / part two

According to every ounce of common sense still left in your body, you should be paying attention. You’re in school, might as well actually learn something, right? You have a test next period, and if you were smart or wanted to pass at all, you should be focusing right now, tracking every single word that your professor is saying. The only problem is that you’re not doing this whatsoever. No, your gaze is instead directed out the window, where a certain football team is just beginning practice.

It’s not like you were intentionally trying to get distracted. You had come to the classroom right on time, pencils lined up and notebook out, ready to start the day. Your gaze just happened to accidentally shift to the window instead, and when you saw number seventeen in red and gold, well, how could you focus on math at a time like this? You’d seen James Barnes around the school many times, but he never ceases to amaze you.

Honestly, even talking about him tends to light a fire behind your cheeks. You’ve seen this movie dozens of times before: shy, studious girl falls for the football player, hijinks ensue. However, this isn’t a Hollywood blockbuster. Bucky is a star member of the team, and you’re just a fan of your school’s football games. Whenever you do icebreakers in class and you’re forced to describe yourself in one word, you always reach for ‘bookish’ or ‘smiling’. Certainly never ‘superbly athletic’ or ‘on Bucky’s radar in any way’. Those aren’t even one word.

However, you never quite seem to let yourself be brought back to reality. Time and time again, you don the red and gold colors of your school- Mid-Capital University, or MCU, ready to go cheer on the team and your favorite player especially so. In fact, there’s a game tonight, you’ll be going with your friend. No matter how many times you laugh at yourself, though, you can’t shake your crush. You doubt it’ll be going away anytime soon.

The night is young, the shouts loud. You cheer with your friend and the rest of the school as the football team runs out onto the field. Their manager, a Mr. Stark, watches from the sidelines, yelling directions or complaining about how much the equipment is going to cost. The team jogs over to their captain, Steve Rogers, to huddle up and discuss final strategy. Steve is a senior, and you’ve heard rumors that he’s chosen Sam Wilson to take his place as captain next year. He’s Bucky’s best friend, so you’ve heard, although they pretend to fight often enough that you’d think they were rivals.

Bucky is here as well now, eyes glinting from underneath his helmet. He’d had long hair for the longest time, but when he’d cut it over the summer there had been more than a few desolate sighs from the cheerleaders. You had to smile at that- at least you weren’t head-over-heels enough to give up your crush based on his hair. You weren’t that bad yet.

As you watch, the team takes their position. They’ll be playing their rivals tonight, the Hydras. Steve heads to the back, Bucky and Sam on either side of him. Further along the team, you can begin to recognize other players- Scott Lang, a kid who’s scrawny off the field but seems to grow twice in size the second he puts on his gear, Peter Parker, the freshman who managed to make it on the team within his first few days, and Natasha Romanoff, the one girl on the team who’s got a death stare promising she’ll tear any objectors to shreds.

The whistle blows, and the teams are off. You watch with bated breath as Bucky darts left, right, catches the ball from Steve and takes off down the field. Apprehension grows across the student body until at last- touchdown, your school! You rise with the others, cheering in unison. Maybe you’re just being silly, but you could swear Bucky looked at you with a smile just as he started off back towards the line.

The rest of the football game is a breeze. Your school wins easily, and Bucky definitely did his part to secure the victory. The next day, everyone is still buzzing over the catches and near misses with their friends, not wanting to miss a single moment. You suppose it’s still on your mind, which is why you’re frozen in your tracks when your new lab partner sits down beside you in biology.

It’s Bucky. Of course it is Bucky. Of course, the one time you have to have a new lab partner in class, your teacher manages to have the terrible luck to place you with the one person who reduces you to a blushing mess every time he steps within ten feet of you. Bucky slings his backpack down beside his chair, offering you an easy smile like a flyer, free of charge.

“I’m Bucky.” He says, and you remember yourself. “I know. I saw the game, you were really good. I’m Y/N, uh, by the way.” Bucky’s smile grows even wider when you mention the game, if that’s possible. “You saw the game? That’s so nice of you.” You feel like you can’t form a coherent thought. “Yeah, I went with my friends. Your team won.” You want to slap yourself in the head- of course he won, he was there. You’re stating the obvious.

But Bucky doesn’t laugh at you, or act like you’ve said anything strange. He just nods, shoulders slumping slightly as he thinks about last night’s game. “It was hard. I guess every time you go against your rival school the pressure’s just ten times worse. It took a lot to just run out on the field.”

He stiffens slightly after he says this, like he wasn’t intending on sharing that secret just yet. However, you’re just grateful that you’re not the only one saying whatever pops into your head. “I can’t blame you. If it’s worth anything, though, I thought you were great.” Bucky’s beaming smile is back, brighter than ever. “It’s worth a lot from you.”

Maybe this sudden seating arrangement won’t be that bad after all.

Your friend catches up to you the second you leave the biology room behind. She looks back and forth between you and Bucky’s retreating form, something in between astonishment and a teasing grin lingering on her face. “Tell me I didn’t just make that up. Tell me you’re actually the lab partner of the one and only Bucky Barnes, the guy you’ve been crushing on for, like, forever.”

You shove her slightly, although you can’t help but smile. “It’s true. I don’t know how, but it’s true. Guess the bio teacher really liked me that period.” Your friend loops an arm around your shoulders. “It’s not just him who really likes you. Did you see the way he was looking at you? All through class, he kept stealing glances. I think Bucky Barnes has a crush on you.”

You stop in your tracks. “That’s impossible. He would never.” Your friend crows in victory. “But he did! You don’t stare at somebody like that unless you’re hopelessly in love with them. It’s the same way you stare at him.” Indignation rises in you like a spring. “I don’t stare at him. I just observe, casually.” Your friend snorts. “Well, you casually observe him a lot. Honestly, I just see this as a success. If you can get the star football player to fall in love with you, then I think I can win the lottery or something.”

Even after your laughter rises and dies away, you can’t help but think about what your friend said. Surely it’s impossible- Bucky would never so much as talk to you outside of class, let alone have a crush on you. But your friend wasn’t exactly lying. You had seen Bucky out of the corner of your eye, the way a smile lingered on his lips when he glanced over at you. That wasn’t just nothing, right? Honestly, this whole lab partners deal might be more pressing than you ever thought possible.

The only way to move on is to go through the next day, and the next. After that, however, you have biology again, and that means finding your place next to Bucky Barnes and pretending like your heart rate isn’t skyrocketing the second he smiles up at you, saying he’s glad to see you again. Your friend keeps stealing glances your way, eyes wide and thumbs raised in an expression of impressed awe.

As it turns out, your friend isn’t the only one to see something between you and Bucky. You make your way out of the bio room, unable to hide a smile, although your happy outlook disappears the second somebody blocks your path across campus. This somebody just happens to be Mandy Fleming, bottle blonde junior who thinks she owns the school, and her entourage of preening followers.

Mandy folds her arms over her chest, considering you. Her lip purses. Evidently she finds something lacking. “You know, I don’t think we’ve had a proper conversation in a while. We need to make a few things clear.” You force a smile, trying to step around her. “Can we do it later? I have places to be.” Mandy curls her lip. “I don’t wait. This can’t wait. See, you’ve developed the unfortunate habit of spending too much time around Bucky Barnes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “We’re lab partners. What, you want me to ignore him?” Mandy’s eyes narrow. “That would be preferable. Next class, you’re going to go up to the professor and tell him you want to switch partners. Make something up about wanting to be closer to the board or something, I’m sure he’ll believe it.” You can barely listen to her. “And why would I do that?” Mandy takes a step closer. “Bucky is mine, not yours. I’m going to need you to back off.”

You stare at her. “You want me to switch lab partners all because a boy you’re not even dating is sitting next to me?” Mandy’s head rears back. You’ve obviously struck a nerve. “Listen here, honey. This isn’t an issue about me, it’s an issue about you. What, did you really think Bucky would ever even give you the time of day? You’re a nobody, a nothing, somebody not even worth a fraction of his time. Honestly, I’m doing him a favor by getting rid of you. He doesn’t want to see you, not for a second.”

With every word, you can feel your confidence plummeting. Mandy notices this, a smirk burning even deeper into her lips. Sometimes, you swear she can smell fear just like an animal. “You’re worried because you know I’m right. You’re pathetic, really, and Bucky Barnes wants nothing to do with you.” Just as you feel like you want to go back to your dorm room and never see the light of day again, a voice rings out from behind you. It’s a voice you recognize instantly, and one that Mandy does too, as she shrinks back the second she hears it.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.” Bucky steps forward, taking a place next to you. Mandy forces a smile. “I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about. Y/N and I are just having a little chat about homework. We had homework, right, a textbook reading and-” Bucky cuts her off coolly. “I heard every word. If you think I’d want to choose you over her, you’re wrong. She’s a hundred times the girl you’ll ever be.”

Mandy stammers, fishing around for words but coming up with nothing. It’s almost cathartic to watch. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Y/N and I have somewhere to be. And if I hear you trying to talk to her like that again, believe me when I say that this won’t be the worst I’ll say to you.” Bucky offers you a hand like a proper gentleman, and you take it, letting him steer you away from Mandy and her followers, who are still gaping at your backs.

The second you’re out of earshot, Bucky turns to you, apologies and regret written all over his face. “I’m so sorry about that. It’s all my fault- she’s been trying to flirt with me all semester, and I finally gave up and rejected her, and now she’s taking it out on you. I wish none of this ever happened.” You manage to force a smile. “Trust me, it’s fine.”

Bucky looks at you, concern still lingering in his eyes. “Are you sure? I can talk to them again if you think they’ll bother you.” You laugh at that. “Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly alright.” Bucky smiles at that. “Well, if you are perfectly alright, I was wondering if you were busy this Saturday. I saw this new park that opened, and it looked really interesting, but if you’re busy or something we can totally do something else, or nothing at all, whatever you-”

You cut him off, unable to hide a smile at his rambling. “I think that sounds excellent. I’ll see you there?” Bucky’s face lights up. “I’ll see you there.” He gathers his courage one last time, then leans forward to kiss you. He flashes you one last perfect smile before disappearing around the corner, leaving you with a smile and the memory of his lips on yours. When you look up, you see scores of jealous girls staring at you, but for once, the attention doesn’t bother you. Why should it? You have Bucky at last, and he doesn’t want anyone but you.

marvel tag list: @mycosmicparadise​