#crappy lungs since day one

[derpylittlenico]

Me: *feeling drowsy and cozy abt 130 or so idefk*

My Lungs: so, check it out. we took a single drag of the outside air which contains particulates of smoke, not even enough to smell it or make the air look bad. and we decided we hate that, 6 hrs after the fact. so how about you take a drag off that inhaler.

Me: but that's...if I use my emergency inhaler, I'll be wired and trembling for hours...

My Lungs: no yeah we know, but that single breath six hours ago was gross and we're lodging a complaint right now.

Me, Now: *quivering bc that inhaler tho*

[monzamash]

to be loved — carlos sainz

carlos sainz x you — “i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.” requested by @dancininseptember masterlist

The short stroll from your office to the apartment never really bothered you. In fact, you typically enjoyed the fresh air and the chance to enjoy the city you loved. But it was early February; rain was threatening the Spanish skies and the frost bitten breeze stung your already tear-filled eyes. It was a crappy end to an even shittier week, your energy wasted on people who didn’t deserve it.

You practically flung yourself through the door of the apartment and shed all remnants of the day – coat, beanie and scarf, all strewn haphazardly, and in that order, on the floor of your small entryway. It took every ounce of energy you had to kick off your heavy boots, each one hitting the wall much harder than you intended. Maybe it was an unconscious way for you to let out frustration, the scuff marks on the white wall a stark reminder of your last straw.

The smell of fresh bread and bolognese sauce hit you as you slunk down the hallway, your tummy grumbling on instinct. You hadn’t eaten since yesterday, a terrible habit you had fallen into lately and Carlos had noticed. He was home more during the cooler months, easily picking up on your little habits that both endeared and worried him. So he made sure, while he was close to you, that you came home to a warm meal every night – because looking after you was his calling in life.

“That smells incredible.”

Carlos briefly glanced over his shoulder and gave you a bright smile before turning down the stove and grabbing a washcloth to clean his hands. You loved him like this; soft and relaxed, in his element. The kitchen was his playground and you remember the sigh of relief that left your lungs when he told you he loved to cook on your first date, because you weren’t particularly gifted when it came to the pots and pans.

“Hope you’re hungry,” He sang, circling the island in the middle of the kitchen to say a proper hello to his beautiful girlfriend, “How was your day?”

A rigid sigh fell from your lips as you fell into his arms, the loving embrace triggering tears to spring to your eyes for the third time today. Carlos held you tight and brushed his hands down your back, comforting you through the sobs wracking your aching body.

“Ay, mi amor,” He soothed, “Breathe for me please.”

Carlos guided you through a couple of deep breaths, chests rising and falling together in synchronicity until your sobs subsided, air finally filling your lungs again. A tight squeeze around your waist brought you back to the man holding you in his arms, worried eyes searching yours for a sign that you were okay as you pulled back and gave him a soft smile.

“I’m okay, I’m sorry.” You sniffled, head shaking.

Carlos tutted as he thumbed away the trail of tears from your face, “Do not say sorry, my love. Talk to me…”

Anger replaced sadness as you told him about how your sister had completely disregarded your feelings for the millionth time, accusing you of only caring about yourself while she’s all alone and stressed about wedding planning. Carlos has managed to get you to sit up on the counter beside him while he finished dinner, but not before pouring you a glass of red wine to nurse while you purged all the negativity from your day.

“She called me a bitch and then uninvited us from the wedding, which by the way I didn’t want to go too to begin with,” You huffed, hands animatedly flying around while he tried to keep up with the drama.

“And all I said to her was that work has been stressful and that us trying for a baby hadn’t been… fruitful, I guess. She flipped out when I said that because her dickhead fiancé doesn’t want kids and she thinks she can change his mind…”

You took a sip of wine and noticed Carlos' eyes rolling like they always did when the topic of your sister came up. He was as sick of her shit as you were, unapologetically scoffing at her selfishness. Making you feel bad when all you needed was someone to confide in was one thing, but lashing out on you was something he couldn’t stand by and watch. He knew he couldn’t do anything right now; maybe he would make a stern phone call tomorrow once the dust had settled.

So instead of getting upset, he put down the wooden spoon coated in the most delicious sauce you had ever tasted and nestled himself between your swinging legs. His warm chocolate eyes stared into your soul as he planted his palms on your thighs, tethering himself to you.

“You know I can take care of you, mi vida,” He said, voice deep and barely above a whisper, “No matter the problem, you won't need anyone but me, I promise.” 

For the first time in weeks, you felt your heart slow down and return to a normal rhythm as Carlos pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. You softly moaned in unison and gripped the grey shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders, pulling him in closer – not that he had any plan on going anywhere.

No, all he wanted was for his girl to feel heard and to be loved because all he needed was you.

a/n — loved writing carlos again. inbox detox is still open !!

[yelenasdiary]

I’m thinking about pervy prison guard Natasha (who has a dick) and innocent!r, who got framed and Natasha takes an interest in her and just has to protect her but y’know you have to pay her back in different methods, I hope you can write this ^_^

Number One Rule

Pairing: Pervy Prison Guard! Natasha x Innocent Fem! Reader

Summary: After being framed and sent to prison, one guard takes an interest in you and offers you protection from other inmates, of course with a catch.

Slightly Rough Smut | Angst | Natasha has a penis | Language Warning | Mentions of Murder, Drugs & Physical Violence | Mentions of Masturbation | Slight Degradation | Oral (both receiving) | Nipple play | Unprotected Sex | Loss of Virginity | 2.8K | 18+ Minors DNI! 

AC: I think I have a new obsession! Thank you for sending this, I hope you enjoy it x!

Never in a million years did you think you'd be in a prison cell crying yourself to sleep every night. Nobody believed you, that you didn't commit the murder you were framed for and now here you were, in a cell with your cell mate on the top bunk snoring loud enough to drain out your sobs. The nights where harder than the day, you felt more alone at night and too scared to fall asleep. 

The other women took a liking to you but not in the way you hoped. You were fresh meat, somebody they would use to get drugs into the prison to save their own backsides from being caught, the newbie they could throw around and get to do anything they wanted because you didn't want to get hurt. You just wanted to stick to yourself and serve your sentence while trying your best to clear your name from the inside. 

It had only been a month since you arrived, and things were only getting harder. You've been beaten one too many times already, just the women's way of 'welcoming' you to the unit and who to be scared of and for them, it worked. You never left your cell unless you knew there were guards walking the halls or you were forced too by them, but there was one guard that seemed to take an extra liking to you. 

Miss Romanoff. Probably the only guard that was kind, all the others had this front about them but it was a prison, nobody was supposed to be nice. Miss Romanoff began standing close by your cell and everywhere you looked she was there. What you weren't aware of was the hidden camera in the showers that gave the guard the perfect view of you in every single inch. When she went home, she'd watch the playbacks of you in the shower, washing your body with the crappy soup you were given, watching the way you moved your hands all around your body while she stroked her cock just wishing she could take you right there. 

Each morning after breakfast, inmates were allowed to call their loved ones for 30 minutes, all but you as it seemed. As you were lining up, other inmates pushed in front, pushing you further and further to the back of the line until you eventually snapped. 

"Hey! the back of the line" you spat at one of the inmates who turned to face you and chuckled, "Does it look like I give a fuck where the back of the line is?" she replied, shoving you harshly into the cold, brick wall as she laughed at you. 

"I mean it! You guys do this shit to be every fucking day, I've had enough!" 

"Check this out, the newbie has had enough guys!" the criminal laughed once more before shoving you once again, this time harder. You knew your next move wasn't a good idea but you're only human who could take so much. You pushed yourself off the wall and lunged at the inmate, punching her in the face before you had realized what you'd done. "You stupid, stupid BITCH!" the woman spat before lunging at you with her fist ready to return the punch you had just delivered her.

You closed your eyes and prepared yourself for the harm you were in but to your surprise the woman's fist was caught by a guard. "Get back to your units, all of you! Call time is off!" Miss Romanoff announced, the room erupted with groans as the woman spat insults to you on their way out, some kicking the wall to show their anger. 

"You're dead meat, newbie!" one woman whispered as she walked by you. 

You sighed and turned on your heels to walk out, only to be stopped by the guard. "Not you, Y/n. You're coming with me" she said, gently taking you by the arm and giving you a light push to continue walking.

To the others, it looked like you were in trouble and on your way to 'the box'. A cell of isolation, no contact with anybody but staff, no outside time, nothing. Just you in a cell for as long as they wanted.

"Miss, I'm sorry. I got angry and I shouldn't have punched her" you spoke, trying not to breakdown in the hands of the guard. "After you" she opened the door to a room you'd never seen before, hesitantly you stepped foot in the room before the red headed guard closed the door behind you both. "W-what is happening?" you asked in a scared tone. Nobody was allowed in the boiler room, not even staff unless authorized. 

"We're going to have a little chat" she smiled softly, making you both walk a little further away from the door. "I..I p-promise I won't do it again, please don't hurt me" you begged, scared that the woman was going to beat you like you'd heard many times on the news that prison guards would sometimes beat inmates when they were out of line. 

"Shh, darling. I'm not going to hurt you, like I said, we're just going to have a little chat" she replied before you both came to a stop, completely out of view if anybody were to come into the room. "You're new here, I know but you shouldn't be getting yourself into situations like that. The inmates here won't hold back on killing you over something tiny like what just happened" Miss Romanoff explained. 

"I…I know, I j-just got so sick of the bullshit they do to me every day" you admitted with a sigh, "Again, I'm really sorry" you added. 

"I can protect you" Miss Romanoff brushed off your apology, "I can make sure they don't hurt you, I'll keep you safe" she added. 

"You'd do that? B-but isn't that a bad thing? I mean, w-would they come after me even more than they are?" You looked at the guard with nothing but fear in your eyes. 

"I've been working here for years, and I've seen many scared women like you come and go, some only make it out in a body bag. You saw how quicky those inmates listened to me, doesn't that not show you that I can handle them?" 

She had a point and just the thought of having somebody looking out for you suddenly made this place seem a little more bearable. You nodded, "but why bring me here?" you asked. The guard chuckled, "because the number one rule in prison is you never do anything without giving something in return" she explained with a light smirk before she gently grabbed your hand and placed it over her bulge, "I'll look after you, if you look after me" she spoke as your eyes dropped to your hand on her clothed bulge. 

"I..I" you stuttered as you slowly looked up at her, "I've…n-never" you paused, looking away with embarrassment. Natasha smiled softly before guiding you to look at her with her thumb. "Baby, have you never had sex before?" she asked, your checks went red as you nodded slowly. "It's okay baby, we'll have fun. Now, how about you be a good girl for me and get on your knees. You're going to learn how to suck my cock real good and I'll make sure you're out of harm's way" she smiled before gently pushing you to your knees. 

Natasha unbuckled her pants, letting them fall to her knees. You could see she was already semi hard, her cock just begging to be released. "It's okay sweet baby, don't scared" she looked down at you, giving you the okay to pull her boxers down and finally freeing her cock. She was bigger than you pictured just seconds before as she pulsed in front of you, you slowly looked up at her and swallowed the lump in your throat. "I d-don't think I can make it f-fit" you stutter once more, hoping not to disappoint the guard.

"I'll guide you, now open that pretty mouth for me" she instructed. You did as told and allowed the woman of power to slide her member inside your mouth before her hands landed on your eat to guide you to start moving. Natasha moaned at the warmth of your mouth wrapped around her, she told you to swirl your tongue around her as she began to thrust her hips forward, making you take her down the back of your throat, gagging for air. 

"That's it baby, gag on my cock just like that" she moaned, throwing her head back as you wrapped a hand around at base of her cock with a tiny boost of confidence which made Natasha smirk, "good girl, you're getting the idea now" she commented as you began to stoke her cock she left go of your head and let you suck her off at your own will. 

Moans and groans left the guards lips as you grew more confident sucking her off, taking her down your throat at your own will now. "Fuck baby, I'm going to cum!" she looked down at you, noticing how you had your free hand down your pants, she smirked. "Take your shirt off baby, I want to cum all over your pretty tits" she instructed. With need, you had your shirt off and threw to the side and unclasped your bra. "They're so much prettier in person, fuck" Natasha basically drooled at the sight of you. 

"W-what?" you asked, freezing all actions as you looked up at her. 

"Oh come on baby, you don't think I haven't been protecting you since the day you came in here? I've had eyes on you every single day, everywhere" she admitted and if you weren't already so easily turned on by her moans earlier, you would've blown up at the thought of a stranger watching you. "Don't go shy on me now, I've seen how you play with yourself in the shower when everybody has left the room" Her comment made your cheeks go red once more as you looked away from the woman. 

"I heard the name you moaned once too" she added, catching your attention again. Once, by accident you moaned Miss Romanoff's name as you rubbed your clit in the shower, you were as shamed of it but never thought she knew about it. "I'm s-sorry, I just, I mean, it was an accident" you tried to make the excuse. 

"Shhh, I don't care about your excuses" she grabbed your head, forcing your mouth back around her cock. You could feel her twitching as you sucked her harder than moments before. "I knew you were a needy little slut, stop, I'm gonna cum!" she took her cock out of your mouth and jerked herself off for a few short seconds before you felt warm spurts of her cum landing on your chest, moans leaving her lips as she continued to unload herself on your bare chest. 

"Stand up, it's your turn" she smirked as she gently stroked herself. You stood up and pressed your back against the cold, hard wall as Natasha got on her knees in front of you, pulling your prison colored pants down with her. "Mmm, tell me you want this" she looked up at you after seeing the wet patch on your panties. You couldn't help but nod with need, unsure of what exactly you were agreeing to. 

Natasha pushed your legs apart slightly before pulling your panties down to your ankles, "you're so wet baby" she commented before brushing her thumb over your exposed clit. You moaned at her touch, you've never been touched before, and it felt so much better then when you'd touched yourself. 

"Please" you begged with soft eyes as you looked down at the red head, she smirked as she looked up at you. "Tell me what you want, say it" she demanded but you were too shy to say the words as you shook your head. "I can't" you replied. 

"Say it" she repeated, this time she started to pull your panties back up. 

"Please!" you begged again, "please…fu-fuck me"

Natasha smirked once more, "good girl" she commented before she placed one of your legs over her shoulder and dived into your pussy. Licking a long stripe up to your clit as you moaned once again, your hands finding her head and gently pushing her forward for more. You both knew you didn't have a lot of time for Natasha to take her time with you like she would've loved too, she ate you with hunger and need, giving you feelings, you didn't even know existed as she turned you into a moaning mess, begging her to keep going. 

"I th-think I'm going to cum!" you moaned, unsure as you were never truly able to make yourself cum. 

"Cum for me baby" Natasha looked up at you as you threw your head back once more before letting your orgasm take over your body, letting the woman's tongue taste even more of your sweetness. "Oh god!" you moaned as the woman helped you ride out your high while tweaking your hardened nipples. 

"That was better than I expected" you admitted when the woman rose back to her feet. "We're not done yet baby" Natasha took off her jacket and placed it on the ground, "on your hands and knees, I need to feel you cum around my cock" she looked back at you. 

"I don't think that's going to fit!" you replied as your eyes dropped to her hard on. 

"I think it will" she nodded for you to get on the ground. 

Natasha settled behind you, kissed down your spine as she rubbed the tip of her cock against your clit, making you moan once more. "It's going to hurt, please don't" you looked back at her with concern. "Only for a few minutes baby, don't worry, it'll feel good after, I promise" she assured you as she lined herself up with your wet pussy, "let me know when you're ready" she added. It only took a few minutes for you to remember the times when you were at home with a vibrator wishing you had a dildo to stuff inside you for that extra pleasure, you looked back at the guard "fuck me, please!" you begged while Natasha smirked as she slowly entered you. 

Your fists gripped her jacket hard as the burning pain rushed through you, Natasha stopped when she bottomed out, "you're so fucking tight baby, let me know when I can move, okay?" she lent down and kissed the back of your shoulder for comfort. After a new minute, you were comfortable enough for the guard to start giving you what you wanted. 

Natasha started thrusting slowly, letting you adjust to the feeling of having her inside you as you moaned, she grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you up against her. "You're mine now" she whispered before she began to fuck into you harder, moaning at the way you clenched around her. 

You were lucky the boiler room was naturally loud enough to cover the sounds of Natasha's thighs slapping against you and your moans begging her to fucking you harder. "God baby! Keep clenching me like that and I'll cum!" she commented as you were close to your orgasm. "D-don't cum inside me! Fuck! Just keep going!" You moaned. Natasha's grip on your hips was sure to leave a mark by the next day but you didn't care, as long as she kept fucking you with this hunger she had, you'd let her do anything. 

With one hand, Natasha reached for your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as you did your best to cover your screams as you came around her cock, "fuck!! It's too much!!" you moaned as the woman kept fucking you, chuckling at your state. "You can cum for me baby" she commented as she continued to hit that one spot that made your eyes roll back, "'s too much!" You moaned once again before you realized you were cumming once again, almost numb from the overstimulation. 

Natasha pulled out quickly before unloading on your lower back, "God baby!" she moaned while you gently allowed yourself to lay completely flat on her jacket, completely fucked out. The woman laid down next to you as she caught her breath, "they won't bother you again, I'll make sure of it" she looked to you. 

You nodded, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep but she had to return you to your unit before headcount. "I would usually look after you, but I can't, not here. I'll take you back to your cell and you can get your things then I'll take you to the showers and you can have one without anybody coming in" she added, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. "Thank you, Miss Romanoff" you smiled tiredly. 

"When nobody's around, call me Natasha" she replied.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @natasha-belova | @blackwidow-3 | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @ahintofchaos | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | @pandaemonium111 | @imnotslouching | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @marvel-madnessx | @scarsw1fe | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @natashaswife4125 | @katiemay-025 | @aphrcdtes | @romanoffs-widow | @natsxwife | @maria-403 | 

If you don't want to be on the taglist for smut related fics, please let me know 💖

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault (Anika POV)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Anika’s hands shook, she almost dropped the phone at hearing Tara beg for your life.

Warning: Implied Violence

Word Count: 6.2k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Anakia sighed as she locked her phone. She had asked you about the Halloween party in class and you had turned her down. She had been texting you ever since just to double check. Your latest excuse for not going was that your parents were out of town, and you were using the house to yourself to stay up late and play video games. Anika pointed out that was literally no different than any other day and you had left her on read after that.

Anika knew you hated parties, but you only ever saw Mindy when she came to pick Anika up from one of your study sessions or when working on a project, or in your shared class with her. Anika wanted you to spend time with her and Mindy in a normal social setting. You were one of Anika’s best friends and she just wanted you to get to know her girlfriend and other friends properly. She knew Mindy could be suspicious and intense with new people, but she had really worked hard to get her girlfriend to not glare at you and outright accuse you of potential nefarious purposes.

Anika knew when to give up though, she knew you’d never come to the party. So, she decided to just enjoy the night with her girlfriend and then tell you all about it tomorrow. She knew you wouldn’t care but Anika liked to pretend you might regret not coming.

The party had been going great. Anika had a drink in one hand and was sitting in Mindy’s lap. Everything was great until she noticed Frankie trying to pull Tara upstairs. Anika quickly pulled herself away from Mindy before grabbing Chad and point to where Tara was. Anika stood to the side as Chad confronted Frankie, getting in a slight scuffle with him until Sam showed up and tased Frankie. Anika couldn’t even feel bad for Frankie, based on the few stories she heard about the guy, she could confidently say he deserved it.

Anika stayed to the back of the group as Sam and Tara argued. Anika was used to it by this point and knew not to get in the middle of their fighting. She pulled out her phone, shooting you a text to say she had left the party early and she couldn’t wait to tell you about the eventful night. You didn’t respond, so Anika figured you were engulfed by your game, as usual.

Anika was caught off guard when a group of girls called Sam a murderer and one of them threw their drink on Sam. Anika moved quickly along with Mindy and Chad to hold Tara back. Tara might have been angry with her sister but that didn’t matter because the second anyone else so much as looked at Sam wrong, Tara was ready to lunge and beat the person. Mindy might have been the paranoid one, ready to accuse everyone, and Sam might have been the strong intimidating one, but Anika had to admit she was most scared of Tara. The girl could be happy and laughing one moment then in the blink of an eye she could be giving someone a murderous look and ready to beat them with her bare hands if she had to.

Anika followed everyone back to Sam and Tara’s apartment. While Tara stormed off to her room, Mindy dragged Anika over to the couch, bringing her down with her. Anika happily flung her legs over Mindy’s lap, practically sitting on top of her again. The night hadn’t turned out like she wanted to, but it didn’t seem like a totally crappy ending to the night.

Anika looked at her phone again, frowning when she saw you still hadn’t even opened her message. She knew you really got into your gaming and would spend hours upon hours playing, but you usually looked at your phone during a cut scene or a calm part of the game as you liked to say. Anika glanced up occasionally to see if Chad had decided on a channel to watch but she was more focused on texting you again. She didn’t want to seem paranoid, but she just needed you to give her a simple ‘I’m alive’ text and she would be fine for the rest of the night.

“You good T?” Mindy asked, bringing Anika’s attention away from her phone. She looked up to see Tara having entered the room, tear filled eyes and a phone to her ear. Anika quickly swung her legs off Mindy and leaned forward.

“Tara?” Sam asked slowly, as she stood up from her seat. “Who’s on the phone?” Anika had never experienced anything related to Ghostface, but she could hear the worry and concern in Sam’s voice. She could see the underlying fear in Mindy and Chad’s eyes.

Tara’s eyes wandered the room before landing on Sam. Anika could see the tears slowly start to fall from Tara’s eyes when she looked at her sister. Anika had seen Tara mad and annoyed before, usually at Sam. She had also seen her happy when they were all hanging out or when talking about movies with Mindy. Anika had never seen her scared though and it was clear whatever Tara was hearing on the other end of the line had her terrified.

“Y/N?” Tara asked. Anika shot to her feet at hearing your name. “Y/N?” Anika scrunched her brow, she was worried, but she was also curious, she didn’t realize you and Tara knew each other. She saw Chad turn off the TV and she felt Mindy’s presence standing behind her.

Anika was aware you shared a class with Tara, but she figured you’d never talked to her just like how you were with Mindy in the class you shared with her. Anika didn’t think you had ever even spoken to Tara, she thought you only knew of her based on how Anika talked about hanging out with the group. Whenever she came over to your place, she would give you a rundown of what happened between now and the last time she saw you and it usually involved talking about the gang.

“Baby, are you there?” Tara asked again, the concern pouring out of her voice.

Anika’s eyes went wide, apparently you did know Tara, you knew Tara very well. Based on the shock of the others in the room it was clear no one knew about you and Tara’s secret relationship. Anika was going to have to interrogate you about that after whatever was going on was resolved. She knew whatever was going on wasn’t good. She knew your parents were out of town and you were home alone, you also hadn’t answered any of her texts sense she got to the party. Anika wanted to hope so bad that you hadn’t responded to her because you were too busy being on the phone with Tara, but she knew that wasn’t likely.

Anika watched as Tara jumped multiple times from whatever she was hearing on the other end of the phone. Tara even began hyperventilating. As Sam tried to get Tara to calm down and get control of her breathing Anika’s eyes slowly started to fill with tears.

“Don’t hurt them, please,” Tara begged, her voice cracking. This made Anika bring a hand to her mouth, trying to contain a sob, but she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Even though Anika had never experienced a Ghostface attack, she like all the others knew exactly what was going on now.

When Sam turned and looked at them Anika knew Mindy and Chad were ready for whatever she was about to say. She didn’t need to see either of their faces to know. She was sure that despite the fear they were surely feeling they would do anything Sam asked. Anika tried to put on a brave face as well, wiping away a few of the stray tears that still fell.

“We need to move,” Sam said. Everyone started moving. Anika wasn’t sure where they were all trying to go, she just knew they were suddenly bumping into each other and tripping over everything. “Call 911,” she ordered, ignoring all the tripping they were doing.

Chad fumbled with his phone, quickly pulling it out of his pocket. “An address would be helpful,” Chad said as he was dialing 911.

“On it,” Anika said, her voice shaky. She wiped away a few more tears as she pulled out her phone, getting your address.

“Please! She has nothing to do with this!” Tara sobbed. Anika’s hands shook, she almost dropped the phone at hearing Tara beg for your life. She quickly found your address and showed Chad, who quickly read it off to the 911 operator.

“Please,” Tara begged again. She was sobbing and her breathing was becoming more and more erratic. Anika couldn’t even begin to imagine what horrible thing you might be going through that was causing Tara so much stress. Anika saw Sam take off towards Tara’s room, but she was to rattled to notice anything else.

“No!” Tara screamed, shaking Anika out of her own head. Anika wanted to help, she wanted to know what was going on, she needed you to be okay. Sam came running back into the room, straight over to Tara and handing her her inhaler.

Anika watched as Sam tried to take the phone away from Tara and Tara slapped her hand away, keeping it just out of reach. When Sam gripped Tara by the shoulders to force her to look at her Anika saw Tara’s hand form into a fist. Anika thought for a split second that she’d witness Tara deck Sam. Anika knew Tara had one hell of a punch; she also knew Tara tended to start swinging before registering who she was swinging at. Luckily Tara saw it was Sam grabbing her and unclenched her fist.

“We have to go,” Sam told Tara.

“I can’t,” Tara sobbed. “I-I-I-can’t. I-” Tara started stuttering, her breathing becoming worse. Even when Tara would get upset and angry with Sam or with some random stranger saying something negative about her or Sam Anika had never seen Tara so worked up. Anika wasn’t just worried about you; she was worried about Tara. Sam remained calm though, handing Tara her inhaler and helping lift it to her mouth.

“Let’s go,” Sam said again, somehow being the calmest person in the room. “We can’t help here,” she continued, trying to convince Tara to leave with her. “Let’s go.” Tara finally nodded and got to following Sam. Anika pulled out her phone, texting Sam your address. “Chad!” she yelled.

“Already calling 911,” he answered instantly, he had the phone to his ear as he continued talking to the 911 operator.

“Anika-”

“Already texted you her address,” Anika said softly. She was trying to remain calm and not lose her mind until after she knew exactly what was happening to you.

Then next thing Anika knew Sam and Tara were disappearing through the front door, rushing down the steps, headed hopefully to your rescue. Anika gripped her phone tightly as she started sobbing, struggling to catch her breath much like Tara had been.

“Babe,” Mindy said worriedly. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she gripped Anika gently by the arm, standing in front of her. “It’s going to be okay. She is going to be okay.” Anika met Mindy’s eyes and didn’t see the confidence she was trying to project.

“You don’t know that,” Anika said, shaking her head. “We have no idea what he’s doing to her,” she sobbed. Mindy instantly pulled her into a hug as she began sobbing into her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“I think the only one that needs to worry is Ghostface,” Chad said. “I mean when Tara gets her hands on him,” he did a couple air punches. “Oof, I wouldn’t want to be him.”

Anika pulled away from Mindy, wiping at her tears as she chuckled at Chad. Despite the circumstances and the unknown Chad had somehow managed to break the tension.

“Who is Y/N, by the way?” Chad asked, smiling awkwardly as he clearly tried to keep the mood light.

Anika started to tear up again. “Hey,” Chad said softly, tapping Anika’s shoulder lightly to get her to look at him. “Tell me about her.” Anika wiped the tears from her eyes again but was reluctant. “Please?”  Chad looked at her with the same puppy dog eyes Mindy always used on her. “We won’t know anything until Sam calls. Until then, tell me about her.”

Anika nodded. Mindy wrapped an arm around her waist and led her back over to the couch. Chad took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as he sat on the other side of Anika.

“We met in class,” Anika said, smiling as she thought back to her first time meeting you. “Audio.”

“I thought you hated audio?” Chad questioned.

“Oh, I do,” Anika laughed at the memory. “But it’s required. Even if I don’t need to know editing and mixing audio, it’s beneficial to know how to run audio and the different types of microphones used and everything. I want to work in theater and there’s no do overs and reshoots when there’s a live performance.”

“And that’s another reason film is better,” Mindy commented.

Anika rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing like live theater.” Anika playfully slapped Mindy’s arm. “Maybe you’d understand that if you took me to the theater,” she mumbled the last part.

“You guys can fight about this later, tell me more about Y/N,” Chad said, waving his hands at the beginnings of the potential argument about film vs theater.

“Anyway,” Anika said, turning back to face Chad. “Y/N is an audio major, which is good because she totally carried me through that class.” Anika started to talk more about how she met you and everything, remembering how different the two of you were but how easily you clicked.

Anika had walked into class, dreading having to learn audio. She was beating herself up for not just choosing a major that only involved theater. Anika didn’t want to act and be on stage, she wanted to run the lighting, set the scene. The best major to learn all that though involved having to know about everything. Anika had to admit lighting and sound went together a lot and she did want to learn how to run the sound along with the lights, she wanted to be involved in everything that helped enhance a live performance, and the things that really made it come alive.

Anika had ended up taking a seat next to you. You had large headphones on as you scribbled in a notebook. Anika wasn’t sure whether you were writing or doodling. The only thing Anika could see was your laptop propped open with some sort of audio editing software pulled up. She knew it was audio related because she was confused as she looked at the various different colored bars and wavy lines. She quietly groaned because she had sat next to someone who clearly knew what they were doing.

As soon as the professor came in you closed all the tabs, quickly shutting your laptop before slipping the headphones off your head, letting them rest around your neck. As the professor started talking and writing things on the board Anika pulled out her own notebook. She was aware of you flipping your notebook to a clean page, but she was too busy squinting at the professor as he quickly talked about microphones. Anika blinked a few times, looking down at her paper, she had the words dynamic, condenser, and ribbon as the three main types of microphones but had nothing else written.

Anika spared a glance to her left and saw you quickly writing in your notebook, your page more than half full. Anika’s eyes widened; she hadn’t seen you look up once, but it seemed like you were getting everything down as the professor said it. Anika looked back up at her professor to see him pulling out a box, pulling out each different type of microphone so everyone could see the differences with their own eyes.

Anika sighed, slumping back into her seat. She tossed her pen down and didn’t even bother trying to catch up on her notes. There was no way she was ever going to pass the class. It was day one and not even a half an hour into her first class and she’d already accepted her failure. The next thing she knew her professor was dismissing class. She shook her head, getting out of her daydream, she looked down to see she still only had three words written down. She glanced your way again, seeing you had moved onto a second page and that was already half full.

You started packing up when you seemed to notice Anika staring at you. When Anika realized you were looking at her, she mumbled, “Sorry.” She let out a defeated sigh before she closed her notebook.

“Would you like to borrow my notes?” You asked.

“Thanks,” Anika said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m not sure it would do much good. I kind of don’t understand a single thing about all of this,” she gestured around the classroom.

You chuckled lightly. “Yeah, if it ain’t your thing, it kind of doesn’t make any sense.” Anika chuckled along with you. “I could help you out, if you want.” You scratched at the back of your head, then began fidgeting with your headphones, you clearly weren’t used to this type of interaction.

“I would love that!” Anika said a little too quickly, making you jump back a little. “Sorry,” she said more quietly. “I would really like that, if you don’t mind of course.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I’m just warning you; this is your last chance to backout, it will take many study sessions and many hours to make me even begin to grasp this stuff.”

You chuckled again. “I’ll take my chances. Who knows, when I’m done with you, you’ll be able to pass this class with a C,” you joked.

Anika’s mouth fell open in offense. “Really? We don’t even know each other and you’re already being mean to me?”

You just shrugged. “I mean if you want to take your chances without my help and your notetaking, go for it,” you gestured to her notebook.

“You’re a mean new friend,” Anika grumbled.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m terribly mean. I mean what kind of person would offer to lend their notes and then offer to help out the stranger next to them in class when they don’t even know their name?”

“I truly terrible person,” Anika said seriously but then broke out into a fit of laughter, with you quickly joining in. “I’m Anika,” she held out her hand to you.

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself, taking her hand. “Do you have another class, or would you like to go over the notes now?”

“Now works, I saw a coffee shop not too far from here.”

The two of you left the classroom, making your way to the coffee shop. You both ordered drinks before picking out a table large enough to open your notebooks. The two of you spent a couple hours there, going over the notes you had taken in class with Anika asking a billion questions. She felt stupid for making you re-explain like the entire class you had both just been in, but you never made her feel stupid for it and happily explained everything to her. You had actually spent so much time talking that you ended up having to rush off to your next class before you were late, but you and Anika promised to meet up after your audio class every week to go over whatever she needed help with.

And that’s how the rest of the semester went. Anika would go to audio and be confused then she would meet you at the coffee shop or in the library and you’d go over things with her again. Anika wasn’t sure what it was about you but the way you explained things to her made her retain them better. When the mid-term and final exam came around you spent every night for weeks over at her dorm helping her study. She wondered when you had time to study for yourself since you seemed so busy tutoring her, but audio seemed to come naturally to you. Every quiz or test you’d taken so far you aced while Anika passed.

Whenever there was a project or paper you had to write for class, you always worked with Anika. The teacher let them choose partners and you still chose Anika. She never knew why because there were other students who clearly had a passion for audio like you and who actually knew their stuff. Whenever you guys worked on something together it felt more like you doing the project, explaining it to Anika, and her just sitting there, getting credit for it. You assured her multiple times you didn’t see it that way.

As you two went through the semester together, you started hanging out more as friends and not just to help Anika pass the class. No matter what the two of you did though, you somehow managed to bring audio into it. You were such a nerd when it came to music and sound design, Anika couldn’t watch a movie without you commenting on the score. She learned that what you really wanted to do was the sound design for videogames, she also learned you didn’t shut up when the topic of your favorite videogame got brought up. She made the mistake of asking you what your favorite game was and ended up listening to you ramble about the music of The Last of Us for over an hour and then you made her listen to the entire soundtrack, then you made her listen to it again, but this time paused it to add your commentary.

Luckily, she was allowed to do the same though. Anika listened to you geek out about soundtracks and videogames while you listened to her about theater, the different plays, the different types of musicals. Whenever there was a new play in town that Anika wanted to see she would take you, since Mindy refused to go with her. Anika was always immersed during the play but after she spent the rest of the night talking about the lighting and how each scene was lit and the emotion that it invoked, if it was a musical then she would add a couple more hours, talking about how each performer sung the song and the music itself and how each song told the story.

“She seems really cool,” Chad said, bringing Anika out of her memories of you. “And you didn’t know about her and Tara?”

Anika shook her head. “Nope,” she answered. “I knew she shared a class with Mindy.”

“Script writing,” Mindy added. “She might be more into audio but she’s not half bad with storytelling in general.”

“And yet you still don’t like her.”

Mindy raised her hands in defense. “Can you blame me? Besides, with how well you get along I’m surprised you two weren’t dating before we met.”

Anika rolled her eyes at that. “She’s just my best friend,” Anika said, with a teasing smile.

“Whatever,” Mindy grumbled, crossing her arms.

“I think Tara has film history with her,” Anika said, turning back to Chad. “I forget who mentioned it first, but I remember them both knowing they had the class together. I didn’t think they knew each other though. Neither ever talked about the other.”

Anika was about to talk more about you when her phone vibrated. She quickly grabbed her phone, aware of Mindy and Chad both pulling out their phones as well. Sam had sent a group text saying you were alive but had been rushed into surgery and she and Tara were in the hospital waiting room. Anika shot off a quick text saying they were on their way. She was on her feet before Mindy and Chad had time to finish reading the text.

“Let’s go!” she snapped, gesturing for them to get up. They quickly got up, rushing to follow her out the door.

When they got to the hospital they ran through the white corridors until they got to the waiting room where they saw Sam and Tara sitting in two of the chairs. Tara had her feet pulled up onto the seat, her arms wrapped around her legs. Sam was sitting next to her, her hand rubbing up and down Tara’s back.

Anika walked over, giving Tara’s hand a comforting squeeze before taking a seat across from her with Mindy right behind her. Anika wanted to say something and ask what happened, she wanted to know how you were doing but she knew it wasn’t the time. All she knew was that you were still alive and that was the most important thing at the moment.

Anika intertwined her hand with Mindy’s and leaned her head on her shoulder. She refused to let her mind go to the worst-case scenario, you were alive, and you were in surgery, you’d be fine. Anika’s mind went through every interaction she had with you again. You had helped her so much in the first audio class that for the fall semester, you guys made your schedules together and signed up for audio 2 together. Anika had only known you for six months, the beginning of summer semester, the same amount of time as she’d known Mindy, but you had become such an integral part of her life, you were her best friend. You needed to live. Even if it was only so Anika could interrogate you about your relationship with Tara, she needed you to live.

After a few hours of waiting Anika had drifted off to sleep. She didn’t wake up until she heard a nurse say your name. She was on her feet and wide awake in an instant. She stood around the nurse with the others, she gripped Mindy’s hand tightly as they waited to hear the news.

“Is she okay?” Tara asked.

“Relation?” the nurse asked, looking up at Tara from her chart.

“She’s, my girlfriend.”

“She’s out of surgery and in a room recovering, you’re welcome to go see her.”

Anika let out a relieved sigh, you really were going to be okay. She loosened her grip on Mindy’s hand, then gave it a grateful squeeze.

“How is she?” Tara whispered.

The nurse sighed, putting down her chart. “She’s alive.” At hearing those words Tara let out a relieved sob. Anika couldn’t help the happy tears that started to fill her eyes. “Her left hand was practically shattered, and she’s got seven broken or cracked ribs.” Anika brought a hand to her mouth; you had endured so much. “It’ll take some time, but she’ll be okay,” she gave a kind smile to Tara then everyone else before walking away.

You were only allowed two visitors and as much as Anika wanted to see you, she knew Tara had to see you more and she knew Tara needed her sister by her side. Anika pulled Tara into a tight hug. She hugged Tara for a second longer, making up for the fact that she couldn’t hug you yet.

When Sam and Tara went to visit you everyone else re-took their seats. Anika grabbed the sandwich that Chad had brought her and took a bite, taking a sip of her juice as well. Anika was fully prepared to sleep in the hospital waiting room, but it wasn’t much long later when Sam came back down. Sam informed them that you looked beat up but okay considering what was done to you and you were still sleeping. She said her and Tara weren’t leaving but she wanted them to go back to the apartment or one of their dorms and rest.

Anika reluctantly let Mindy drag her out of the hospital and back to the apartment. The three of them stood in the apartment for about five minutes before Chad wandered off, filling a bag with spare clothes for the sisters. Anika then dragged Mindy to follow Chad back to the hospital to drop off the clothes. She knew it didn’t take three of them to drop off clothes but with Ghostface running around there was safety in numbers, plus she just wanted to be there in case there was any new information on you, even though she knew Sam would keep them informed.

The three of them decided to stay in the apartment, none of them had a big enough dorm room to fit three people. Besides Ethan was Chad’s roommate and they wanted to keep the people who knew what was going on to a minimum. Anika wasn’t sure where Quinn was during everything, her absence was suspicious, but it wasn’t uncommon. They had all been at a party and Ethan and Quinn both stayed behind. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Quinn to go to a party and come home the next day or even a few days later if she was having a lot of fun with the guy she found.

Chad was snuggled up in the chair, a blanket draped over him while Mindy was curled up on the couch. Anika was sitting on the opposite end of the couch. She couldn’t sleep now that she knew you were alive, she was worried something else was going to happen. She watched a random movie that was playing on the TV with the sound on mute so as to not disturb the twins.

That’s how the next day went as well. Anika was exhausted from the lack of sleep and was getting by by taking quick powernaps. Mindy would flip through the channels to find mindless entertainment to fill the time and Chad would make them food. For breakfast it was simply eggs, for lunch it was chicken nuggets, and for dinner it was pizza. It was also simple food that was just frozen and tossed in the microwave, but Chad was the only one making sure everyone actually ate.

It was late at night again, the twins sleeping in the same position as they were the night before. Anika had a random movie playing on mute, but she wasn’t paying attention to it, she couldn’t even say what genre it was if someone asked. Her phone was sitting on the coffee table when it lit up. She lunged off the couch, grabbing her phone to see that it was a text from Sam, you were awake.

Anika jumped off the couch and was already putting on her shoes. “Get up!” she yelled. She grabbed Chad’s shoes, throwing them at him. He jolted awake, almost tipping the chair. “Y/N is awake, get up!” she said louder, tossing Mindy her shoes as well.

Though the twins were startled awake they both quickly got up, slipping on their shoes. Anika waited at the front door, tapping her foot as she shook her head, slowly watching them get ready. She clicked her phone to look at the time, a whole two minutes had passed since Sam sent that text. “Let’s go!” Anika’s grumpiness seeped into her voice. It got the other two moving though and next thing she knew they were walking out the front door.

They got to the hospital, meeting Sam in the waiting room. She told them once again that you were awake and talking with Tara. They all took seats in the waiting room again, Sam opting to wait with them so she could give you and Tara some privacy. Anika finally slept for the first time in two days, head on Mindy’s shoulder now that she knew you were awake.

In the morning they were all woken up by FBI agent Kirby Reed. She introduced herself to everyone but her and Sam clearly knew each other already. Kirby told them she investigated Ghostface attacks, since she was a survivor of the 2011 killings. Kirby had just got to town, and she heard about the attack, when she heard you were awake, she had come right over, wanting to talk to you. Sam took Kirby to show her to your room.

A few minutes later Sam came back down but she wasn’t alone, she was with Tara who had a determined look in her eye. Anika was actually scared by the look Tara held, it was dark, and it was what she imagined a killer to look like right before they went hunting.

“What’s going on?” Mindy asked.

“We’re going to kill this fucker,” Tara spit out.

Sam rested a gentle hand on Tara’s shoulder, trying to calm her down. “We have a plan.”

“Let’s go,” Chad said, jumping up from his seat.

“No. Just us.”

“Sam, you can’t take on Ghostface alone.”

“I can’t let any of you get hurt again, please stay here.”

While Sam argued with Chad and Mindy about whether they were coming or not Anika watched Tara. Tara didn’t look like she cared one way or another whether others joined them or not, all she wanted was to kill the bastard that hurt her girlfriend. When Tara noticed Anika watching her, her gaze softened and she stepped towards Anika, pulling her away from the others.

“Can I ask a favor?” Tara whispered, looking at Anika with wide eyes.

“Anything,” Anika said instantly.

“Can you stay with Y/N?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. Just keep her distracted and don’t let her come after me.”

Anika let out a small chuckle. “Easier said than done. When she learns you’re not here she’s going to be pissed.”

“I know,” Tara whispered.

“Whatever, you’re going to be the one to deal with her wrath when you get back.”

For the first time in two days Anika saw Tara smile, it was a small smile, but it was a smile. “Happily.”

Anika made her way up to your room, leaving the others to continue arguing. She stood outside as she watched through the window. Agent Reed stood by your bedside as she talked to you. Kirby looked up, meeting Anika’s gaze and a minute later she was walking out of the room. Anika gave her a smile before entering your hospital room.

“Hey,” Anika whispered quietly.

“Hey,” you said, smiling at her before it quickly fell. “What are you doing here? Where’s Tara?”

“Wow, I’ll try not to be offended,” Anika chuckled. She moved to the seat closest to your bed. She was really hoping for a minute before you started questioning her.

“Nika,” you said, looking at her knowingly.

Anika sighed; she wasn’t lucky enough to make it a minute before she had to tell you. “You know where,” she said softly.

Your eyes fearfully darted all around the room before you tried to sit up. Anika quickly jumped up from her seat, resting a hand on your shoulder to push you back down. You instantly groaned, wincing in pain from the moving around.

“I have to stop her,” you said through gritted teeth.

“You know there’s no doing that,” Anika said.

“She could die!” you snapped. Anika jumped at your tone, though she knew you weren’t angry with her.

“She’s done this before,” Anika said. “And she has Sam with her. She also has a pretty strong motive to survive.”

“She better survive Ghostface cause when she gets back, I’m gonna kill her,” you grumbled.

Anika smiled at your words. “Don’t worry, she’s well aware.”

The two of you sat in silence for a minute. Anika watched you but you watched the door. Your eyes hadn’t left the door since Anika told you what Tara was doing. You were waiting for her to come back, and you weren’t going to take your eyes off the door until you saw Tara walking through.

“So,” Anika said, clapping her hands together. “Want to watch The Last of Us?” that got your attention, you slowly turned to give Anika a confused look. “You can tell me all the differences between the show and the game,” Anika tried to bribe. She grabbed a laptop they had brought over with the spare clothes.

“You’re trying to distract me,” you said, glancing at the laptop as Anika went and pulled up the show.

“And it’s working,” Anika smiled as she moved the chair even closer to your bedside.

“No, it’s not,” you grumbled.

“Look, you can either annoy me about all the differences between the show and the game or we can talk about how you’ve secretly been dating Tara.” Anika crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

You grumbled something incoherent before hitting play on the first episode. Anika smiled to herself, leaning back into the chair as she got ready to listen to you ramble. “This doesn’t get you out of telling me about Tara though,” Anika added.

You rolled your eyes, flicking a glare at Anika. As the show started your eyes instantly lit up. “So, right away it’s already different because in the game in opens with…” you started rambling. Anika was silently hoping Tara would be back before you finished all nine episodes.

Taglist: @bigbadsofty07 @fanboy7794 @noooodlessstuff @tatumrileyslover @alexkolax @canvascoloredin

[pickingupmymercedes]

And just like the sun, we will rise - Lewis Hamilton

warnings: slight mentions of nudity, w14, Mercedes team post 2021, angsty

wordcount: + 1k

a/n: This is my first fic here. I have been reading somethings here for a while now, but never quite really had the courage to post. So, kind of doing something I never thought I would.

Please, do send me thoughts, notes, ideas, corrections, anything really, I would love to hear you guys.

You walked into the en-suite defeated, head hanging low, throwing your shoes, bag and computer in the nearest surface, deep breath finally leaving your lungs after what felt like a lifetime of holding it in.

You all went into Sunday on a high, Lewis’ pole felt like a dream finally coming true after 2 years. Your promise to him finally a reality. A light at the end of a very dark and twisty tunnel, at last, shinning bright enough to be followed.

But, like it had happened for the past 2 seasons, the race came and the car showed its true colors.

A meeting with Toto and the legal team of AMG got you stuck on track longer than Lewis, so a quick hug and hushed kiss before telling him to go rest was all you two shared in the very public and busy garage.

You got to your hotel only hours later and in need of a good shower, a crappy tv show, a snack and something to make the guilt less pungent. 

You found him laying peacefully asleep in the sofa set in the corner of your bedroom, still in the pants he left the circuit. His phone, open on Instagram, on his hand. After tough races he’d usually crash like that, especially the ones neither of you would return home the same day, that night in hotel rooms reserved to the both of you only, you and him and whatever it was that was weighting on your minds and hearts.

You lightly ran your fingertips in his arm, watching as his eyes fought to open and focus on you, a lazy smile spreading through all his features.

“Hey, go to bed”

“Hi there, stranger”

“Things took longer than expected, I’m sorry”

“It’s okay.” He mumbled while getting up and pulling you tightly into his arms the second he steadied himself, that was before he felt you stiffing up at his touch.

“Hey, you good?”

“Not really, but I’ll be better after a shower, promise.” You pleaded into his neck, cutting him mid-sentence, hoping he would let it go, just this once, and ignore the unbearable ability he had to read right through you.

You sneaked from those strong arms, with quite some resistance, and gave him a sad smile in return before heading to the quietness of the bathroom, the safety of the shower pouring scorching water on your skin until the prickling sensation numbed your mind.

He was so quiet you only really realized he had gotten into the shower with you when he cleared his throat behind you. You sighed; you knew he wouldn’t let it go that easily, not after today.

 “I can’t promise to have all the answers, but please let me in” his voice made even smaller by the sound of water hitting the stone flooring.

 “I got way in over my head” You whispered after a while, turning to him and letting him really see you for the first time since that morning. He was met with a serene look on your features, a certainty he was certainly not expecting.

“I promised you something I can’t physically give you Lew. I can’t guarantee the team’s going to be back in winning ways, I’m sorry, I really am.”

Your statement didn’t really shock him, he had contemplated that quietly a few times before. But for the first time since he’s met you were openly admitting to him, in the secrecy of that bathroom in a hotel somewhere, that you were giving up.

“Talk to me.” He knew how to handle with angry, moody, sassy, overjoyed, happy you, but his fiercely headstrong girlfriend giving up wasn’t something he was used to.

You had thought about that from the moment the w14 got beaten right after the first corner of the race and it had eaten at you for hours until you couldn’t hold it in anymore and had talked to Toto in between meetings. He didn’t look surprise by it, he didn’t even seem sad, he had known from the get go in 2022 Mercedes wouldn’t be able to breach the gap and give Lewis the title he’d been stolen, at least not in the time the AMG board had set for Lewis.

“We don’t know where to go from here, losing those 3 positions at the beginning just showed we don’t have a p1 car anymore. We haven’t had one in a while huh?! I – I’m not sure we’ll get one in time… for you.” You serenely put you realization before him, looking at his features and posture, trying to read his reactions before he shook his head and took the step to close the distance between you two, bringing you out of the water and into his naked torso.

“That title dream was lost in 2021 babe. I told you that already. I’m in the sport for something bigger, and we – I, I need you with me on that, okay?”

“Okay” You whispered looking up at him, the certainty in his features enough to get you by that night.

Hours later, in the mess of the sheets, his warmth and the first rays of sunshine signaled the worst was over, and the tattoo on his back made sure to remember you that someday you two would, eventually, still rise.

[nikox400x]

Kung Fu Panda 4-All the budget went to the animation (spoilers)

Hey all, its me, the guy who everyday make a tour around this site but almost never talk. How are ya?

Two days ago something arrived to the cinema's screens, something that me and everyone were waiting for since 2018, the fourth film and the begginig of the new kung fu panda triology.

You know? When I sat on that theather seat with my friends to see what Dreamworks had prepared for us, I told myself; "Maybe that post I made a while ago throwing shit at what seemed like Kfp 4 was going to be was a bit hard, I hope I can come out regretting what I said that time"

And as soon as the credits ended, it was clear to me, I dont regret a shit. Maybe it was a little exaggerated, compared to what a megamind fan would think about the terrible sequel they made, but still: the film is crappy and boring most of the time. But why?

I'm going to explain some points.

1- Po? Is that you?

I don't know you guys, but i don't think the panda we knew in the end of the third film is the same as this one. Seriously, he share more comparisons with the Po from the legend of awessonless than the one from the films, maybe its a personal thing but it feels that way. At least in the beggining of the film feel like that.

And I don't know what he was thinking about when he decided to follow a thief he doesn't know at all and who tried to steal in his own palace, and that suspiciously know who is the chameleon, whose were her plans, her past, where she lived, where exacly they had to pass through avoiding all the guard inside her home, why the others thiefs of the city hate her so much... With Po's experience with criminals this is like a chef throwing water on a pan with boiling oil, it's obvious what is going to happen.

2- Zheng- Female Nick Wilde but without charisma or half of his intelligence.

I knew it from the first moment I saw Zheng's desing, the people who know me can corroborate that; her facial expressions, her tone while she talk, her animal race, her position as thief, her final when she is part of the justice same as the protagonist... it's clearer than water I think.

Everyone could say this is forgivable if she's smart, but surprise, she's not. This character is just an absurd try of this company for """"conect with infant audience""""(I don't know in what sense, I supose for the cute design, idk). But the point is, the supposed objective of the hollywood companies is give the new generetions better things than we got at their age, but what I see is laziness for write a decent scrip only for take an advantage of a known IP and make easy money. Even the children have quality standars, this is not the dragon warrior and of course this is not kung fu panda.

And talking about the dragon warrior, having our deep and lovely Tigress with her magnific development or Tai Lung back from the spirit realm... why in the hell this character exists?! Oh yeah, for being trending topic in twitter for three days. Yay...

3- The furious five and Shifu, for us : our pretty boys, and for Dreamworks: living jokes.

What made Kung Fu Panda what it is, is not the fucking panda, it's them. They're the inspiration for Po, their allies, the royale representation of kung fu and the ones which everything started with.

Po's a comic relief, and his mission is show his development in part using his humor, but the humor in this film barely works because of the lazy script. Something that even the talented Jack Black himself can't fix, beacuse his only role there is dublin his character, unlike the rest of the residents of the Jade Palace except Dustin Hoffman.

Seth Rogen (Mantis) himself even said that he wasn't even contact by Dreamworks in the first place, only for make a scream in the credits, that's sad beacause he really wanted to see Mantis on the screen. And I know and I understand that the five are expensive, but cmon, they could just simply change the voice actors and offset it with a good script but that's not the case of course. Their role in the film is being a counter for Po's constant jokes, for not to saturate the spectator with jokes, now that's not in there anymore, thank you Dreamworks.

4-The chameleoooohhn and her "motivation".

I can't say much, basically because out of her design she's nonsense. She says that because of her size, she was reyected for being a kung fu warrior.

Yeah of course but only one little thing, what about Shifu? Viper, a warrior without tips? Mantis, literally a dawn insect? Master Oogway, a TURTLE? The masters goose? C'mon even there's a fucking master chicken! Don't talk shit chameleon!

Her importance for the plot? Its almost a lie, the others villains had links to important characters; Tai Lung (with his link to Shifu's past), Shen (with his link to Po's past) or Kai (with his link to Oogway's past), all of them related to important characters. And her? To zheng's past and present I guess? But again, anyone know this character. She's like a villain from a Disney show, you know the type of villain who say a lot of things but at the end, she don't support nothing to the lore.

And her personality is like a mix of all the previous villains, and this sounds good right? HAHAH nope. Do you remember when as a child you mixed all the plasticines of all the colors to create the final color and you ended up with a color similar to poop? well that's exacly how her personality feels like.

5- Po's dads; the only reason they're there is because they ran out of characters to make the film.

The tittle itself tell everything, they don't do anything for the script in all the film, and their objective could be done since the start.

The script of the film except for the final looks like a draft which they didn't know how to complete, everyone who watch it can see it perfecly. The animation, the music and the backgrounds are the only things notable here.

6- Tai Lung and the cheapness nostalgia.

Fan service is not necesarry bad, above all if is used in a good way, they sold us Tai Lung as a miracle but his importance for the plot feels just like a Stan Lee cameo, I like Tai Lung I can say that. But this is too weak, Shen and Kai are only characters in the background who don't do nothing except being defeated or make facial expressions (I don't even joke that Shen would show respect to Po considering what we saw in the second movie, and Kai wasn't supposed to be destroyed as a spirit, what the hell is he doing here again? *sign* I'll to stop trying to make sense of this).

By the way, anyone else think that the dragon warrior role is understimated? I mean Shifu obligated Po to transfers the role to another one just because yes, i mean he only has been the dragon warrior for less than 5 years and now they want to replace him with a random. Everything just for at the end, he choosed a thief with at least 30 crimes registred and who was a traitor during the 75% of the movie.

7- The """""""""humor"""""""", except they forgot the parts where I must to laugh.

Seeing nonsense hits only beacuse yes stopped of being funny a long time ago, and no, I don't want to talk about the bunnies of the portrait because I would get sick. I had to go to the cinema drunk to endure the filler that the movie had, no joke, it was the only way to laugh at those jokes.

So I think about applying the same method as in any movie with bad jokes, ignoring the jokes. I tried to do the same thing but with the pace that the film managed, such a thing was impossible, the pace of the movie seems to be made for Tiktoker children with attention deficit. From the chaos in the quarry until Po takes the bitc... uhg fox out of prison, only 10 fucking minutes pass, all of that for what? So that you feel like the baseless information and the nonsensical plot that they tell us is of any use? they could simply make a non-canonical short and that's it, but no, yes or they were going to tell us a story written by rotten old men who spend the entire day watching Tik Tok. It's not going to be that the child who sees this doesn't get bored, we know that much today's children don't have many neurons as they say, but even to make movies for them you have to have a certain talent.

In some point at the beguining Po make a joke about the ausence of the furious five saying that at least he had them in cardboard posters, and this would be a good joke. Only if the stupid film could be prove that the franquise can do something memorable without the furious five, but again, that's not the case.

Don't have any respect for this movie, look what it had with you. I understand that it is enjoyable because of the animation but it does not go beyond that line, it destroys important things about the canon and spoils its teaching about the need for change by treating it in a terrible way.

Coclusion: KFP 4 is just another Po's adventure as Shifu says, it won't tell nothing to you or make you feel different, it's a shame but after Megamind 2 I imagined something like this. It's a dark era for film, expecially the animated one so like Scar said; Be prepare, there're worse things waiting for us.

Do you want something with real quality? You don't even need kung fu panda 1,2 or 3, for make it easy to this film let's take this marvelous example; kung fu panda: secrets of the scroll (2016). You'll say; "An animated short, this is not like-" Shhh Just watch it, you won't regret it.

If you think I'm wrong in something, just rewatch the film. And if still you aren't agreed with me, well, I respect you and I'm happy you like it. I wish I could love it as you do, but that doesn't mean that the movie isn't bad, because if you watch it with your brain on or remembering the previous movies it's terrible.

. Me? I've to write a story, I love you all. Except you, Dreamworks, I'm mad with you, expecially when you do this at the same day as Akira Toriyama's death :(

[indouloureux]

basically you and Joseph are good friends since being cast together on s4. he comes over to your sleeping place one day, and asks you on advice on telling a girl he's known for a while that he likes her. little does oblivious reader know that the girl is us👹. basically you give him advice (choice), and he thanks you and walks out. in legit a minute he walks back into your house and does the thing you advised him to do.

I apologize for the crappy writing, I thought this scenario up at 3 am

THIS IS REALLY FUCKING CUTE SUKSJSKSJS

when he asked if he could come over and "hang out," you don't expect him to be standing like a lost, nervous child in front of you, with his hands on his sides and head ducked low, eyes on his gently tapping feet.

"what's up?" you say, cautiously, like one wrong word and he'd snap into something preternatural.

joseph's head lifts, wide and glossed with nervousness. he offers you what is a forced smile, laughing dryly before he sits on the couch beside you, patting his sweaty palms onto the denim of his jeans. so wet that they'd grown darker than their usual color.

"so, um, i need...advice," he begins, scratching the hair behind his ear. "it's um- relationship. related."

your heart drops to your feet, shattering on the carpeted floor because it didn't need the porcelain tiles to break it's structure. like a film reel does imaginations of joseph with someone else flip like a lugubrious flashback, but you manage to put a feigned surprised smile on your face.

"oh!" you raise your eyebrows. "tell me."

"i want to, um, ask this girl out," he laughs nervously, almost too forced like he's reliving a faux pas inside his head. "she's um, i think you know her."

"well, i hope i do," you match his de rigueur smile, top teeth poking out between your two pink lips to at least show him how genuinely happy you are. and you really are. really, really fucking happy. "because then it'll be easier to know if they'll treat my friend right."

friend friend friend

fucking friend.

"hah. well, um, she's really close with us," joseph's looking at your lap, hand stops scratching the spot behind his ear to gesticulate into the air. "she's, er, really nice. very kind. humor is out of this world. i really think she's the only person who can make me laugh hard other than my dad and, well, jamie."

you bite the scream that tries to escape, maybe you're even trying not to strangle him at the mention of some different girl making him laugh harder than you do. "what else?"

"she makes these, like, pastas that taste horrible but somehow i still love it because, well, she made it," he smiles, shoulder's relaxing into a slump. "we like to— she indulges in all my food tomfoolery. she listens like, like i'm the most important person in the world and...she's the only person who can truly understand me."

you wonder what his words could break if your heart's already broken down his feet. maybe its your lungs, the way the pain tightens the passage and hinders air coming through. or your stomach and the incessant pit that's forming down there. maybe your fingers as you clench them tightly to stop yourself from harming anything.

because after all this time, you thought you'd been that person he's talking about. turns out you were just delusional — your naive self grasping onto the hope that he might have felt the same, when in reality that hope's linked to a chain that leads into a void; where you wish you could fall into than fall for him endlessly despite the pain.

"that's, that's great, jo," you swallow the thorns around your throat, clearing it off. "w-what's the advice again?"

"i wanna ask her out."

"great!" you scratch your eye, joseph watching right on the corner of your vision. "um, well, obviously you have to buy her flowers. or something that she likes, like chocolate? maybe, if she wants that. then knock on her door and ask her out because asking someone over text is just really lazy."

joseph nods, taking a huge puff of breath, the slapping of his hands on his knees snapping you out of your miserable daze. "smart. great thinking. you're really smart, love."

before you say anything, he's pressing a quick, burning kiss on your temple, the aftermath of his fire still sizzling on your skin. he stands up as well, crossing over the carpeted floor in quick strides that by the time you had registered what he's done, he's already putting his coat on.

"wait, where are you going?"

"i'm gonna ask her out."

"today?" he nods. "i thought we were gonna hang out?"

"i'm sorry but i just, really need to do this," he gives you a sad smile. you stand up from the couch, joseph spraying alcohol on his hands before he twists the doorknob. "i'll see you tomorrow, though!"

the word stutters in your mouth, useless when he disappears behind your door. the loud slam is what opens the faucet, unknown to you that there's tears already dripping down your cheeks.

you drown in the sink of self-pity, bottom lip wobbling and sniffling the snot that drips down your nose as you sob, heart broken by someone who wasn't even your boyfriend.

feet dragging across the floor, they lead you to the kitchen where you take out a pint of ice cream — pistachio, the only one you have, which is very ironic. your hands reach for the wooden handle of the kitchen drawer, taking out a spoon for you to take the sorbet into the silver cutlery and eat the dejected ice cream.

but then the door knocks, and you accidentally choke on a sob as you take your ice cream with you, mind believing that it's impossible that it's him because his urgency to leave was quite obvious he was never coming back until tomorrow.

you twist the doorknob, opening it to see him with a box of chocolates tucked between his elbow, a smile so bright like he'd just won the grandest prize of them all.

"hi, will you— are you crying?" his smile falls, lips turned into an upside down crescent of worry, hands gently placing the box on the table to place them on your shoulders. "what's wrong? is that pistachio?"

you don't answer him, feeling the heavy rock around your throat come back and push your tears through again. you let yourself cry in front of him, pint tucked to your chest that the ice melts onto your shirt along with the tears that race down to your neck.

joseph comes in, closing the door behind him as he hugs you like he doesn't expect you to cry, pushing your head to his chest and it's like he wants you to hear his steady heartbeat, each thump a soft whisper asking you to calm down. he's gently shushing, hands running through your hair like he'd always do when you're sad, or when you're asleep in his arms (as a friend.)

"it's — is it because of the date?" joseph murmurs, pushing your arms away so he'd take a better look at you. he tilts his head down to see you better, eyelashes fluttering at his rapid blinks. he's unconvinced when you shake your head. "oh love—"

"did you leave anything behind?" you place the ice cream on the side, leaving the spoon stuck in the thick dessert. tugging on your cheeks to wipe your tears away, he takes your wrists to stop you, holding it down to the space between.

"is it about the date?"

his repetition makes you finally nod your head.

"aw. babe, i— i was going to ask you out."

you blink the tears away from your lashes. "what?"

"i was going to do what you said," he takes the box into his hands. "i was going to come here, with something that you liked and ask you out. it's — it's the only way that i could think of that sounded cute."

the film reel rewinds the way your heart that's left on the carpet has risen to mend itself. but instead of jumping into his arms with dire contact, you punch his shoulder, mad at him for an irrational reason of him giving you a temporary, fake heartbreak.

"you're such a jackass. a dickhead!" he laughs, in pain, rubbing the spot on his shoulder. "you made me cry and thought it was the end of the world."

"i'm sorry," his thumbs wipe the tear stains off your cheeks. "i'm sorry, darling. never again."

joseph pulls you into his chest, head deep into his tactile touch, smiling when he kisses the top of your head. "god. i was about to strangle you when you said someone else made you laugh harder than i do."

"‘m sorry," he chuckles. "now, will you eat these chocolates and go out with me?"

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

[wittyworm]

Hey everyone! Long time no update

A LOT has happened since the last update. Back on March 6th, Shorty was admitted to the hospital, taken by ambulance. He had been passed out for several days on the floor unable to move. Lungs and limbs fulled with fluid. Fast forward to now, May 18, 2024, after about a month in the hospital and another month in physical therapy, he is able to walk again on his own! and the swelling in his legs has gone down significantly. But that’s not where the update ends. Because there’s still a lot we need to get set in place. 
He was able to get all of that much needed medical attention because we finally got him set up with a GOOD health insurance policy and were able to go to the Social Security Administration and set up his direct deposit to a bank that only him and I have access to. Everything seemed to be falling in place, but then he stopped receiving his social security deposit. He received a letter in the mail claiming that the direct deposit information we had just went and got set up again, had been changed on the 3rd of May, about 2 weeks ago. Neither he nor I understand why he would be getting a letter from the SSA like this, since we had the direct deposit set up to a new bank in February, that only he and I have access to. I’m thinking identity theft or something?

I’m not sure but, now that he is out of rehab, he is back at a motel. We’ve been asking around Davenport if anyone is looking for a potential roommate and recently just visited the house of a very kind gentleman renting out a room for $700 a month. Super ideal if we can get the situation with his Social Security deposit figured out (motels are way too pricey, even the crappy ones!).

The problem is, I do not have a car, though I am able to use my mother’s on Friday and the weekends when she is not at work, I am sort of at my limit with what I am able to do to help anymore. I had to leave my job due to multiple health issues, and though I have applied to many different jobs at this point, actually going in to each place and asking in person, I am having no luck, especially with no car, and only a bike with my declining health. I’m just not sure what to do. I am remaining hopeful.

Before we learned about the new situation with the Social Security Administration, Shorty had very generously offered me $500 to go toward the van I was trying to get. Not sure how to thank him enough for that. It’s now in my savings and I am going to keep trying to make and sell art and do odd jobs until I hear a response from any of the applications. Fingers crossed.

if yall wanna help me out i still have my patreon and kofi and a bunch of prints available. just lmk

[coffeebanana]

Chapter 2: Towards Colder Days

Excerpt

“What’s going on?” Marinette repeated. “Are you alright? Nino kept calling, but I was sleeping. And I know that’s a crappy excuse since I even left my ringer on so I wouldn’t miss my flight—because, like, I know leaving it on silent doesn’t affect the alarm, but ever since that one Akuma—” “Marinette!” There was a sense of finality to Alya’s interruption, something like a date chiselled into a tombstone. And all the tiny red flags that had popped up in Marinette’s mind lined themselves up like a trail of dominos, collapsing into one another as they knocked the air from her lungs. She swore she knew what Alya was about to say before the words left her mouth. “It’s Adrien.”

[beautouslysandy]

Letters

Sodapop Curtis x GN!Reader

Warnings: Sodapop + Fluff= Death By Cuteness

Word Count: 645

(trying a new format, what do y'all think? also a big part of this post is through “letters”)

______________________________________________

-Your a bubbly person no wonder you and Sodapop clicked. You were so happy to have someone that had similar personality traits to you. You guys met in freshman year and have been friends since well until you moved to Florida. -You moved about a month ago and decided to send a letter to Sodapop.

-You had feelings for Sodapop but didn’t state such in the letter. Soda has feelings for you but never said anything and now it’s too late, what will happen?

______________________________________________

With The Curtis’ Brothers

“Soda!” Darry called from the kitchen. “Yeah?” Soda replied with his eyes locked in on the cartoon playing on the tv.

Darry walked over and handed Sodapop a letter, he recognized the handwriting instantly. He smiled softly. He opened the letter and it read,

‘Dear Soda,

I am officially a resident in Florida. It’s so humid here! I want to be back home, this is the worst. I am trying to look at the bright side….the trees are nice?’

Sodapop paused reading the letter and chuckled a bit with a sad smile. He was missing you as much as you were missing him.

‘I have met our right side neighbor, it’s a couple and their son who is our age. Total ass. Didn’t even acknowledge me until he saw my figure, gross! I wish I could say I am excited to start fresh but I would rather be with you and Steve at the Nightly Double watching some crappy movie and stuffing our faces with popcorn. And laughing till our lungs hurt.’

Sodapop scoffed at what you wrote about your neighbor, slightly wishing he could beat him up, but smiled at a memory of you, him, and Steve at the Nightly Double the night before you left. He pouted, he misses your smile.

‘But I am stuck here in mucky humid Florida but, I am coming back for the summer to see my aunt! The whole summer! It’s not as long as all-year around but you and Steve will survive, just don’t do anything I wouldn’t…I mean it. Also make sure Steve isn’t eating more than a slice of cake for breakfast, when I get him a slice at times I make it smaller than usual. Don’t tell him that! I wish I was there, Y/n L/n’

Sodapop smiled and began looking forward to the summer even more than usual. He wanted to write you back as you put your address for the return address. The next day he wrote back and put it in the mail box. All he had to do is wait. Which he wasn’t very good at.

______________________________________________ With you at your new house

You got the mail from the mailbox and received a letter with your name on it, it was probably illegible to some but you knew exactly who the letter was from. As you entered your new house you were smiling from ear to ear. You opened the envelope as soon as you got to your bedroom, in barely legible handwriting it said

‘Dear Y/n,

I wish you were here too. We miss you, especially Steve and I. It's not the same without your cheesy jokes and bright smile. Steve misses you coming and stopping by at the DX. I miss going to the Nightly Double with you as well. Steve will always whine that you're not with us. Once I told him you're coming back for the summer he got back to his old self. The chocolate cake problem will be dealt with, don't worry. Your aunt talked to me yesterday, she seems really excited that you're coming to stay with her this summer. But I bet I am more excited. Also, nobody gets my humor so you better not cancel, don't know how much longer I can take it. You're the only one who understands my dad jokes. I am not joking. I am counting down till summer also your neighbor's son does sound like an ass, want me to come over? I think Ponyboy and Darry miss you too. They seemed a little sad after your left for a few days. You have a toll on us, we won't survive. Better hurry!

Miss you most and wish you were here,

Sodapop Curtis’

You had butterflies in your stomach, you shook your head with a laugh, Sodapops letters almost sound as energetic as he does in person. You immediately put pen to paper. And put your letter in the mailbox.

This continued for months, leading right up to when your school for out. A week after you hopped on a plane to go to Tusla. You were beaming with joy, practically bouncing on your sit.

Your aunt picked you up at the airport and drove back to town, you guys had a great conversation. Your aunt was so happy you were back home. You were so happy you were back home.

Your aunt conveniently lives 2 blocks down from the Curtis’. After you, were all settled in, you practically ran to their house and knocked on their door. Soda pop opened it and his face turned to shock and happiness. He gave you a big hug.

“Your back!” He gleamed as he stepped aside to let you into the house.

“Yeah, so happy to be home!” You said back with a smile.

As soon as Sodapop saw that cheery and sunny smile of yours he knew all was right in the world.

You guys made eye contact, in your minds at that moment you guys knew exactly what the other felt. Y'all knew this was gonna be the best summer yet.

[fiori7ura]

but strangely, he feels at home in this place

TW: body dysphoria, self-doubt, mentions of panic attacks & death, fear, depression-ish, trans max & steve, don't like, don't read.

(modern au, no upside down, max uses she/her but it changes halfway through, steve is also trans, max & steve have a brotherly bond — author is afab but on the transgender spectrum and goes through body dysphoria and confusion all the time)

→ i've been writing this on ao3, it isn't posted yet because it isn't finished, but i wanted to post what i already have on here :) it's all rough draft, so expect for there to be grammar mistakes or things nto worded correctly. there are italics galore in this, but i copy & pasted it from ao3 so it deleted the layout it was in, and my phone makes everything lag when i try and do italics on here, so, yeah, no italics, just imagine them in parts when needed lmao — read tags & warnings, thx!!

title from 'this is home' by cavetown!!

——— ★ ———

Yeah, you could say that Max never fully fit in with girls her age. She skated, hung around guys, scuffed her shoes with dirt and mud, crude sayings and drawings scribbled with black sharpie and in messy handwriting on the toes of her sneakers she got from Goodwill.

Her life was good for a while, until it wasn't. She woke up one day with panic and realization coursing through her veins, crying until her lungs gave out and she hyperventilated, screaming into her pillow.

Panic attack, Max's brain supplies from the old memory of her lessons with her school counselor, Mrs. Kelley.

Small things trigger them, and ever since Billy passed in the mall fire, they happen more than ever. Max wishes she could go back to that summer, when there were no worries in the world, before Billy died, before she and her Mom had to move into a crappy trailer park across from the Munsons.

The bad thoughts cloud Max's mind again, and she shakes her head like a wet dog coming in from the rain.

She gets up and throws on basketball shorts that come down to her knees and a threadbare, gray Hawkins Tigers shirt that she stole from Steve, her tightest, most concealing bra she owns strapped on underneath. Max shoves her hair in a haphazard low bun, taking a quick glance in the mirror, not even bothering to look for too long. Staring into her reflection is bad. It makes Max notice all the impurities and small problems about herself that makes her want to shatter the glass, break it into little pieces on the carpet below her.

Max prays that one day, she could just sink into the floor and disappear. Maybe then, things would be easier. She wouldn't have to worry about her impending doom of her crush on El and the dark thoughts that flood her mind daily, time and time again.

Max steps outside of her trailer, spotting Steve's car parked over at Eddie's. He's sitting on the porch steps, cigarette in his hand, smoke stirring out of his mouth.

She wishes to be like Steve. Wants it. Hopes for it. In her mind, he's selfless and resilient. He came out to everyone without a single trace of doubt, and everyone supported him when he said he didn't feel like a girl. That was three years ago. Max was only 12. She's now 15, drowning in her sorrows and regret.

She stumbles over the gravel that lines the ground, feet carrying her to cross the distance between the two trailers. Steve looks up from his crisp, white Nike Cortez shoes, a smile lighting his whole face up when he sees Max.

"You know those things'll kill you, right?"

Steve snorts, tilting his head like a dog. "Hello to you, too, Max. You sound like Rob, you know that?"

Max just scoffs, the smile on her face betraying the way she's trying to act. "Whatever you say, Mom. I'm not taking the blame from Dustin when you die from smoking on those cancer sticks."

"Sure," Steve says behind a smirk as he puts out his cigarette and dusts his hands off on his jeans, imaginary dirt spreading around the air. "If you're asking for a ride, just know that I'm about to be leaving. Just let me tell Eddie bye, 'kay?"

"Okay," Max echoes, laughing. "Go get your boyfriend!" She yells when Steve turns around to go inside, mimicking kissing and hugging, wrapping her hands around herself and making obnoxious smooching noises. Steve flips her off behind his back. She can almost hear the faint mumble of smart ass kid come from his mouth, which causes her to laugh even harder, head lolling back on a cackle.

——— ★ ———

They're halfway through the drive back to Steve's house when Max breaks the silence, Stevie Nicks playing low on the radio, music drifting through the speakers of his Beamer. "Could I, uh, ask you something? You gotta promise not to say anything about this conversation, because if you do, I'll blackmail you and send Eddie all the embarrassing photos of you from when you worked at Scoops."

Steve whips his head to look at Max, almost surprised look on his face as he lets out a disbelieving laugh, airy and light.

"Okay, kiddo. Shoot."

Her feet are propped up on the dash, and her pulse is rabbiting. "How did you know?"

Steve raises a questionable eyebrow towards her direction, nose wrinkling. "What d'you mean, 'know'?"

Shit, shit, shit.

"No, nevermind, actually. It's stupid," Max sighs. "It's stupid," she repeats, again and again, flipping the word around on her tongue.

"Hey, no, don't just dodge my question like that, Mayfield. Be honest. I doubt it's as stupid as you actually say it is. Spill your guts, c'mon. Like you do at those girly sleepovers of yours."

And, oh.

Girly sleepovers.

Max doesn't like that. Bile swirls in her stomach and she digs her nails into her palm, leaving crescent moons in her skin's wake, jaw clenching and teeth grinding down against each other.

Steve clearly notices he did something wrong, because he quickly pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park, unbuckling to turn and look at Max.

"What's wrong, firecracker? Tell me, please. It won't hurt to just say what's on your mind."

Max shakes her head, eyes downcast and frown placed onto her face. "When did you know you didn't want to be a girl?" Max whispers, voice small and weak sounding, even to her own ears.

Steve grabs Max's hand and holds it oh-so-gently, the angel he is.

"I always subconsciously knew when I was younger, I guess? I never wanted to wear dresses or look pretty. I wanted to feel like a boy. I always got mad when my teachers would split the class into girls and boys. I would try to go with the guys, and my teachers would usher me back into the girls side, telling me that I'm a girl, not a boy. Kids would laugh and point at me for it,"

Steve pauses, getting teary eyed.

"And I didn't fully recognize how I felt inside until after I met Robin and everybody else. I got assured that it was normal to feel like this, so then I recognized how to love myself and my body. I understood that I was a boy, that I am a boy, and I should be proud of who I am."

Max lets out a wet laugh, tears threatening to spill over and around her eyelids.

"I don't think I'm a girl, y'know, at all."

Max looks at Steve through glimmering eyes, and he pulls her into a hug, squeezing her, comfort washing over her body like a cold shower. "I'm so proud of you, Red. So, so proud. I love you, so much."

That's when the tears really start to flow. Max hugs Steve right back, laughing with hurt and love and peace and too many emotions that flood his body.

"You're the best brother I could've asked for, Steve."

They stay like that for minutes on end, time drifting together; Steve rocking Max back and forth in his arms, tears from Max staining his polo shirt.

Steve pulls back first, still holding Max's hand. "And you're the best brother I could've asked for. You're a boy, don't doubt that, Max."

Max wipes at his eyes. "Did I ever mention how much I love you, Steven Belinda Harrington?"

Steve sputters with laughter, letting go of Max's hand. "Belinda? That's the best you could come up, Mayfield? I thought I was the best brother you've ever had?"

"I'll take it back, Belinda, trust me, don't think I won't," Max laughs, punching at Steve's shoulder, not a touch of violence or hate behind it.

[badgirl411]

The Enemy PART 4: (Aemond Targaryen x Reader FANFIC)

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader 

Summary: The aftermath of Aemond forcing you into captivity unfolds and you must now decide if you are willing to suffer this fate your former lover has subjected you to.

Warnings: Thoughts alluding to Suicide, forced captivity, imprisonment, toxic relationship, incestuous relationship between uncle and niece, use of pet names

Authors Note: WARNING this is unedited so apologies for any mistakes or crappy writing. Also apologies for the delay in this chapter it has been pretty hectic having recently found out I got into a TV Production training course. If you would like to be updated on when the next chapter is posted you can join my taglist just give me a little message. Anyway have a good day friends! Enjoy.

PREVIOUSLY ON THE ENEMY:

His hand reaches up to his neck where beneath his tunic he produces a string which holds a key, your eyes widen he intends to hold you captive the sadistic bastard. Gathering yourself as quickly as possibly you try with all your might to launch off the bed but your legs are still weak from your encounter with Aemond. Legs trembling you try to run towards the door following Aemond as he backs away.  

The door slams shut before you can reach it, the sound of the lock turning echoing loudly through the room. Your fists slam against the door as a cry leaves your lungs.  

“I meant what I said daring. I am going to make you regret leaving me, I am going to ruin you in every sense of the word. I will grind you down, bend and break you until you learn that there is no escape from me. We are forever.” His voice trails off along the corridor as he roars the last few words of his sentence before disappearing into the darkness of the castle.

It’s been days since you were locked in this god forsaken room against your wishes and still there is no sight of Aemond. You have seen no one but your own reflection in the mirror, maids have brought food and water to your door sliding it through the small flap that has been cut into the woodwork.  

In the days spent in the room you have paced endlessly, examined every striation in the woodwork and battered your knuckles bloody from the endless hammering you have been doing on the door trying to plead your case for release.

But alas your pleas fall on deaf ears, no one has dared enter your quarters or wander the halls nearby but the maids who keep you fed and watered. No one dares in fear Aemond would strike them down, he trusts no one, especially not when it comes to you.

You are wearing the same torn dress from the night you were intimate with him, hair knotted and skin feeling grubby. You desperately need to bathe to rid yourself of the memory of that night, to feel human again. You search the closet for something other than your torn garments to wear and find a long white tunic like the ones your former lovers wears, your fingers run over the material taking a moment to appreciate how soft the garment feels against your skin. Removing the garment from its hanger you bring it to your face inhaling its scent, it smells like him of course it does this must be one of his rooms. This is the best you are going to get ridding yourself of your current attire before pulling the tunic over your head, you find a hairbrush in the drawer of a nearby cabinet and attempt to brush the knots out of your hair. Sitting on the edge of the window you feel slightly better but are still in desperate need of a bath, his scent is clinging to you invading every sense sending you into a combined state of anger and arousal.

A thought crosses your mind as you try to determine the height to the ground from your current position. You are sure to die if you try and jump from this height, would you rather be dead or be a captive for the rest of your life. Neither fate seems favourable but you would not give Aemond the satisfaction of his victory but before you can seal your fate by choosing death the flap on the door sounds indicating a presence on the other side.

Leaping from your position by the window you plead for the maid on the other side of the door for a bath to be drawn for you frantically explaining you will bathe in the room if need be.  

“My lady Prince Aemond has told us we are not to speak with you. I am so sorry but if he hears we have spoken he will have my head.” Her voice is small and meek as she apologises profusely.

“Please please all I ask is for some water to bathe, that is all!” you beg her.

“I will see what I can do my lady” she whispers retreating down the hall.

A silent tear rolls down your face as you swallow deeply ashamed you have let this happen to you. It is not in your nature to beg nor is it to let your guard slip the way it did that night with him. You return to your place by the window wondering if your mother knows about your circumstance, if she is even alive still. You wonder if Arvir is still by the shore, if he like your mother is even still alive.  

You sob looking out into the courtyard praying to the old gods someone, anyone, will free you from your captivity. A knock on the door startles you and the voice of the maid you had spoken with earlier in the day shouts out addressing you.  

“My lady, I have water and a washcloth for you to bathe. I must warn you I am not alone; I have been warned that should you try to escape there will be dire consequences for us both.” She speaks sounding scared.

The door clicks open and the maid stands with a wash bowl in hand, a clocked Kingsguard stands stoically behind her with his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. She approaches slowly and guides you behind the screen helping you pull the tunic over your head standing back allowing you to wash your now naked body. With shaking hands, you dip the washcloth into the water running it over your body before rinsing and repeating a deep sigh leaving your lips.  

Something from the corner of your eye catches your attention, peering up you find it’s the maid waving her hand slightly trying to get your attention without making any noise in fear the Kingsguard over hear.  

“My lady I must warn you Prince Aemond is lurking at the end of the hall he thinks you intend to escape if given the chance. He will kill you if you run, he says you are his and his alone.” she whispers delicately voice low so only you hear the words said.  

After helping you dress again you both emerge from behind the screen, she sinks low in front of you curtsying before retreating to the door, as you turn you see Aemond has emerged from his place at the foot of the hall to stand beside the guard.

He towers over both the maid and the guard his face settled into a cold stare; his eye settles on you an audible “Hmm” heard from his lips. Turning to face them both he instructs them to leave him as he enters the room gesturing for them both the leave and quickly.  

Stalking towards you he is like a predator and you, his prey; he is ready to devour you a starved look in his eye. You stumble back towards the wall, the space between you closing too quickly.  

“Aemond why am I here?” you speak up your voice trembling in fear as your back hits the wall. He closes the distance between you both as your turn your face away from his gaze afraid to meet his eye.  

His head rests against your own his nose nudges your ear inhaling your scent, he is breathing deeply demeaner no longer stiff and tense.  

“Because little one you and I are meant to be, this war between our families tore us apart. You left and my heart has been empty since, I lie awake at night and think of only you. You are my every waking desire and my constant beautiful nightmare. We were meant to be side by side for eternity, you were going to be my wife and the mother of my children. We were meant to burn in flames, I was not going to watch you walk away from again.” he purrs in your ear his voice laced with emotion as he breaths your scent in, one hand on your waist and the other caressing your jaw.  

You turn to face his searching his eye for any signs of deceit but you see only hurt and longing, bringing a hand up to his jaw you trace the feel of his lower lip with your thumb. Your free hand makes a home on his broad chest slowly caressing the firm muscle before slipping down his body, finding a gap in his tunic your cold delicate fingers slide underneath finding his hot skin. Raking your nails over the sensitive skin of his abdomen a sharp his leaves his mouth as your lips are a hairs breath from his own.

“There was a better way about this Aemond, it didn’t have to be this way.” you leave him standing in his place by the wall as you retreat towards the other side of the room now refusing to meet his eye.  

TAGLIST:  @xcharlottemikaelsonx​ @glors3​ @sacredburial @yearninginpages @schniiipsel @lomllino @ohitsthemaster​ @cl-0-vr​ @m00n5t0n3​  @literishdegree99 @ninarosebloom 

[bisexualvampires]

These Years Ain’t Wasted On You (1.8k)

For Allie @thigholstercas celebration! Happy birthday!! 🥳

Prompt(s): Endverse destiel / snuggles

Rating: General Audience

Read on ao3

“Mmph.”

“Not a chance, angel,” Dean pried off the pillow Cas was attempting to smother his own head beneath. For a dude who not so long ago had no need of sleep, Dean had a hell of a time getting his boyfriend out of bed in the mornings.

Cas lay on his stomach, face planted into the mattress and not in a sexy way. Early morning sunlight cast a shadow of the beaded curtain across the bare, tanned skin of his back. Dean admired the taut muscles, trailing a finger along Cas’ spine.

“Do not-“

Dean smirked, ignoring the command and smacking Cas’ ass good and hard above the thin blanket. He didn’t need to see the eye roll that followed; he’d long since developed a spidey sense for it.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart. We’re goin’ outta town today.”

“Nnnmmhhh.”

It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. He padded to the dresser, flicking through the precious gift that was his tape collection. He jammed Iron Maiden into the busted old radio, gave it a good shake ‘n’ slap to cut out the rattling, and boom. He glanced over his shoulder, peeking nonchalantly at the angel laying dead weight on their crappy little spring bed. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling as he slowly twisted the dial, cranking up the volume loud enough for Wasted Years to wake half the camp.

Cas didn’t flinch.

No dice, huh?

He glanced around the room. Not like there was any coffee – even that healthy sludge they’d looted had run out days ago. Supplies were getting harder to come by. Dean thought back to the gross lukewarm coffees he’d fuelled himself with at motels over the years. He’d kill for just a drop right about now. Seriously – put the right guy in front of him right now and he’d do it. His stomach growled at the thought of breakfast.

Supply run. Right.

“Face up. Make your stand. Realize you’re living in the golden years.”

Dean snorted. What was that saying? About wishing you knew you were in the good old days when they were still happening? The golden years were dead and gone. It was nothin’ but croats and the misery of a vast unending universe that was quickly depleting in supply of coffee and alcohol and all the good crap that made life bearable.

“So understand. Don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years.”

Dean turned fully to face the graceless angel rotting away on their bed. Cas’ hair had gotten longer; the dark mess haloing his grouchy head. Dean knew the stubborn bastard was as wide awake as he was.

He peeled off his shirt, chucking it haphazardly on the floor in the general direction of the laundry pile – which honestly took up most of the room at this point. At least that incense crap Cas insisted on burning drowned out the smell of old blood and bad weed.

Dean made his way back to the bed, arms folded as he frowned down at his boyfriend.

Cas mumbled something shaped like “don’t even think about it”, tensing his ass preemptively for another smack. Instead, Dean plopped down on top of him, getting a face full of dirty angel hair and pushing a soft “oof” out of Cas’ lungs. His jeans dug into his hipbones as he squirmed against Cas’ ass.

He was being a shit, but it got the job done. Finally, Cas turned his head to the side, cracking open one eye to squint at the man laying on top of him. Despite the annoyance in his eyes, Cas reached for Dean’s wrists, pulling his boyfriend’s arms tighter around himself in place of a blanket.

Dean hummed contentedly, nuzzling his cheek against Cas’ shoulder blade.

“How long do we have?”

“Hm?” Dean mumbled against the warmth of Cas’ skin. Even despite the crap he’d been smoking, the lack of showers – especially after all that “yoga” they’d been practicing – Cas still smelled like Cas. Like a thunderstorm. Like home.

“Until we head out?” Cas twined his fingers around Dean’s own, turning their hands so he could read Dean’s watch. Going by the deep suffering sigh, Dean had to guess it was soon. Which felt like a damn shame despite his earlier resolve to get the hell out of bed and get this stupid trip over with so he could come home, wash the grime off his skin, fill his belly full of stale pie and warm beer and kiss his best friend until he forgot all about the end of the world. Cas was so warm.

Cas rolled to his side, almost throwing Dean off the bed entirely. The dude may have lost his angel powers, but that unholy strength still lingered. Still stirred something in Dean’s belly with every reminder of how Cas can and has thrown him around like a ragdoll. Cas twisted and grabbed hold of Dean just in time, pulling him close and humming contentedly as his hand fell on Dean’s shoulder. Cas’ fingers slotted perfectly over the handprint he’d once left on Dean when he’d gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.

There was that look again. The same look he’d gotten after accidentally leaving a hickey on Dean’s throat after swearing he was being careful. Like he was both proud and ashamed of it. Mesmerised and awed at how Dean’s body was a trophy collection just for him. Like it could ever be enough to mark him with evidence of how loved he was. To show how wholly Dean belonged to this dork.

But behind it all, there was a sadness that seemed almost ancient.

Shit had been hard, and Dean had taken it a damn sight harder at the start of all this. He’d been angry – stubborn and selfish and ready to kill anything and everything in his path as if it could ever make a dent in undoing his failures. It took a long time to break out of his head and accept that this was it. This was the end, baby. And it wasn’t just Dean that was suffering. It hadn’t been easy on Cas either. Too much of that was on Dean. He’d watched Cas burn himself out until there was next to nothing left. Not even a smile to light those once glowing eyes some days. Dean had lost his brother, but somewhere along the way, Cas had lost himself. Both were unfathomable in ways Dean couldn’t stand to think about.

It'd taken even longer for them to get their crap together and do something about this thing between them. By the time they’d snapped, neither could recall who’d initiated the first brush of lips on whiskey-stained lips. It felt inevitable. Maybe it was. Maybe the world would have been all rainbows and rock ‘n’ roll if it’d happened sooner.

Didn’t matter anyway.

“Face up! Make your stand! Realize you’re living in the golden years, hey.”

The mattress buzzed with the radio’s vibration, but before Dean could scowl at the lyrics, Cas’ lips pressed against his own. He was always gentle at first, like he was giving Dean a chance to back out. And always, Dean’s heart kicked up a storm against his ribs. It didn’t matter if it was the first, the fifth, or the thousandth time – nothing felt like this. In Cas’ arms, in their own bed, nothing outside these walls mattered for that moment.

Dean deepened the kiss, looping one arm around Cas’ back to pull the angel closer, and pressing his other hand to Cas’ cheek. He’d kissed guys before, sure, but something about feeling the prickly beard growing in on Cas’ face made him feel like a damn teenager again. He was still coming to terms with the messed-up situation he and Cas had found themselves in. But any doubt he had slipped away into the recesses of his mind when they were close like this.

They were both breathless as they crawled out of bed, kiss-swollen lips desperately gulping down a shared bottle of water. Cas donned one of Dean’s old Black Sabbath shirts, despite the stink of his sweat still clinging to the fabric. Dean wondered if Cas did it on purpose. He’d noticed Cas always wore Dean’s clothes when the day ahead held a little more risk than usual. When the chances of getting separated weren’t exactly slim to none. Sure, it was only a supply run. But they’d lost good people before for easier crap. A lot of good people.

It was hard to believe it was only a year or so ago that Cas would appear to him sometimes in the ungodly hours of the night, when Dean couldn’t sleep. Didn’t matter where he was, or what fresh hell the world was spinning out just for him, if Dean stepped out into the night for a smoke on the hood of his car, Cas would be there. Like clockwork.

“Those things will kill you,” he’d say, in that toneless matter-of-fact voice that used to make Dean want to grab him by his stupid coat and shake him. Didn’t matter if he was on his final drag or if his shaking hands were still struggling to light the cigarette, one snap of Cas’ fingers and the thing would go poof. Gone. The whole pack suddenly empty in his pocket, too.

Now, Cas leaned against the outside of their cabin, eyes closed as he inhaled a drag of whatever was going to get him through the day. Dean tried not to stare – not at the small “o” of Cas’ lips, or the bob of his Adam’s apple. Not at the way his hair curled inward a little at his earlobes, or the way his shirt hugged tight against Cas’ broad shoulders. Not at the lithe hand close to his lips that held a weak imitation of the grace long burnt to cinders, or that small frown between Cas’ brows that always appeared when the hit just wasn’t enough.

It was tacky to say Cas was his whole world when, let’s face it, the world wasn’t exactly up to scratch in comparison. But Dean adored him. He loved Cas more than he could stand it. Hung on every word, every graceless movement, every sly smile and every puff of smoke that blew from Cas’ mouth.

The guys would pull up any second now to pick them up, but Dean couldn’t help it. His heart was hammering as he stepped into Cas’ space, gently lifting the blunt from between his fingers. Cas slowly opened his eyes, curious and patient.

He didn’t protest when Dean stubbed out the blunt against the wood of their cabin.

“Those things’ll kill you,” Dean said, willing a smile on his face that didn’t meet his eyes.

Cas smiled down at his feet as the first rumble of the truck’s tyres sounded on the gravel road. He brought Dean's hand to his lips, peppering each knuckle with a kiss. Only met Dean's gaze as he planted a lingering, reverent kiss to the back of his palm. “There’s nothing bold enough left to kill me now, my love," he said, kissing Dean's lips quick and stealthy while they still had the chance. "It’s just you and me and the end of the world.”

[remingtonisleithal]

Vic Fuentes x reader angst??

Sorry it took a bit!! I hope this is OK :)

i might make a series with this? I'm not sure.

Hell Over Me

Pairing: Vic Fuentes x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING suicidal ideation, self harm, alcoholism. It's super angsty but with a happy ending because I can't handle sad endings (though the ending is mildly crappy I wasn't sure how to finish it.)

Summary: After a nasty break up the reader is suicidal, but Vic manages to save her in time.

Author's Note: This does have a happy ending, and please do not read if it will trigger you!! Look after yourself, and I hope you enjoy :) if you like this, please reblog! xo Also thank you to @smiling-girl for proof-reading!

Days had passed without a second of comfort, the nights without a moment of sleep. What are you supposed to do when you break the heart of someone who means so much to you? When you break your own heart? When you fear your heart is beyond repair?

It had been 2 days since Y/N left. She'd never forget the way her hand fell out of his. His voice, barely above a whisper, “please”. The way it rained, the sky crying with her.

She took a ragged breath and wiped her tearless eyes. Maybe she had spent all her tears on him too fast, and now it was over, there were no more tears to cry. Nothing. Just the twinge of pain that comes from an empty soul. Standing up, she wandered her dark apartment to the kitchen, haunting her own house as though she was one of the ghosts in her head herself.

The tequila burnt her throat, but she gulped down more shots straight from the bottle. Hating the taste. Loving the memories. Praying to forget them. All it took after was a lolly to settle her stomach. Meals are overrated, after all, and the lollies should mask the scent. She hoped at least.

The music wasn't loud enough to drown out the voices in her head, but just loud enough to ease her pain and not wake her roommate. She wanted to be alone, but since she wasn't able to, this was the next best thing. The flashing of the music video on the TV gave her comfort, and she had a terrible, brilliant thought. All things come to an end. And it's not like people expected her to be OK. Everyone thought she was going to die. Maybe this time it would work.

She drank more. With enough alcohol she could forget, or at least sleep. But the damn bottle was stuck, and she wasn't drinking more tequila, that stuff was nasty. Or maybe it was nasty because of the last time she drank it?

Without thinking, Y/N scratched her arm, the clothing of her sleeves gently rubbing against a scab. That's when it hit her. Once more. She was fighting herself. She was clean for a few days. She could make it. She needed the blood dripping down her arm, the sting of relief. NO. No she couldn't, wouldn't. She needed to...

Y/N sat down. She picked up her pocket knife. It was going blunt, but after enough pressure it would do enough damage. She felt the cool metal on her skin when the song on YouTube changed.

Do you know,

I could your heart beats before you sleep?

I grind my fingernails to bone,

Bulls In The Bronx, by her favourite band, Pierce the Veil. Well of course they were her favourite band. Her boyfri- ex, was the singer.

But he was her best friend too. He'd hate it if he knew she was cutting again. Then again, what the fuck, he wasn't going to see. She had to do something. She wasn't getting better, she wasn't healing, hell, she was meant to be broken. She couldn't do it. She needed to go. She needed to get away, away, away.

She threw her shoes on and ran out the door, not bothering to get her keys. It didn't matter. Nothing did. And she ran. She ran until her lungs burnt and she ran some more. She ran until her legs threw her to the ground, and she wasn't puffing anymore, but sobbing hysterically.

When Y/N finally caught her breath, she looked around her surroundings. She was on a bridge, just off the deserted highway. She stepped closer to the railing. The cold air froze her, as she stood against the railing. Her mind raced with the thoughts of how easy it would be to crawl over. To jump. She could fly before she falls... It would all be over.

But she wouldn't go without a word. She promised Vic she would say goodbye if she ever tries one more time. So she pulled out her phone. Straight to voicemail. Well, she thought, maybe it's better this way. I'm not sure I'd have answered either.

“Uh, hey, Vic, it's me. Y/N,” Vic listened to the love of his life's voice break on the other end of the phone. “I, uh. You said to call you. If it ever gets this bad again. So that's what I'm doing. I guess you're busy though,” Vic felt his heart drop in his chest. “I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you. I know you're better off without me, even if you tell me otherwise, I'm just not good for you OK? I'm too broken. I guess I need to say I'm sorry for the pain I will cause, too. I'm a bad person. I always hurt people anyway, but maybe I won't hurt you anymore after this.” her voice cracked, and she sounded high pitched as she said “I'm sorry. I still love you. I always will. It's not your fault, OK? I just. I'm not that strong anymore. I'm sorry. Goodbye, Vic.” the voicemail ended, and Vic felt like he was about to throw up. He grabbed his car keys and started to drive without even thinking where he was going.

Y/N hung up. She took a deep breath in. The wind rustled around her, and she felt the kind of peace that only comes with finality. This was how it was going to be.

She started to climb the railing, when she realised her phone was ringing. On autopilot, she pulled out her phone and checked the screen.

Vic.

She didn't want to answer, didn't want to face any of it. But he deserved a real goodbye. She answered the phone and before she could say “I'm sorry” Vic spoke first.

“Y/N listen to me where are you??” The concern was thick in his voice and Y/N could hear the car running over the phone.

“Ah, the bridge, down from the park with the chip shop.” Y/N answered before she could stop herself. It was too hard to say no to Vic. She didn't want to face reality. She wanted it all to end. Still, she stepped away from the ledge and sat on the curb, waiting anxiously and hoping for the courage to jump or live. Anything was better than this hell.

The air was cold but Vic felt no such ice as he stopped the car in the middle of the deserted bridge, getting out and running to meet Y/N. When he got close he didn't break his stride, merely crashed into her in a tight hug. It was like he squeezed all the pain and horror out of her, and left Y/N with only the feeling of her favourite person around her. She wished once more to apologise, to get back together. But she felt maybe she wasn't meant for love.

Vic pulled his head away to look at Y/N, still arms tight around her waist.

“NEVER do that again, do you understand?” He searched her eyes. Y/N looked away. “Please,” he said, voice shaking, “please don't leave me. I can't lose you.”

Y/N didn't trust her voice to respond, so instead snuggled her head tight into his chest, leaving tear stains on his shirt.

“I'm so sorry Vic, I'm so sorry.” She cried into his chest, and he pulled her impossibly closer, tears streaming down his own face.

“It's OK, Y/N. It's OK. I'm here, OK?” He said, drawing circles on her back with his thumb. “I love you. I'm always here for you. Just please, don't go.”

They stood there shaking and crying into each other's arms, relieved, scared, a million emotions battling inside them. Vic was the first to break.

“I heard your voice mail,” he said softly. “All of it. I want you to know-”

“Please, don't say it, don't say anything. I don't want to take you down with me.” Y/N interrupted.

Vic ignored this.

“Y/N. I love you. And I'd rather be in hell with you than in heaven without.”

Vic brushed stray hairs out of Y/N's face, and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, which Y/N returned.

The rest of the night was spent at Vic's house, talking, kissing and enjoying each other.

Taglist: @fedorable-killjoys @sab-falco @charlie-rulerofhell @smiling-girl if you want to be on my taglist, off my taglist or I've forgotten you, please let me know!! Thanks for reading :)

[meraki24601]

When You Wake

This one is for  @sublimepainterwitch who commented on my post No Avoiding It. They asked for a part 2, but since the post was based off of someone else’s original post, I decided to make a similar but separate post. 

In this, Hero was still injured and rescued by their very protective ex-lover, Villain. Plus, Villain still disappeared for a period of time. Sublimepainterwitch I hope you enjoy and this scratches that part 2 itch! -----------*-***-*-----------

Waking up in the morning has never been one of Hero’s favorite things. They’re a night owl who fights crime in the dark. It seems like it would come with the territory. The sun shining in their eyes through their ugly, thin curtains. The sound of their neighbors arguing. Dogs, birds, car horns, and noise. 

Yet, waking up without all that, Hero decides is much worse. They haven’t even opened their eyes, but it’s obvious Hero is not waking up to a fresh new day inside their crappy apartment. All they can hear is their own breathing, their lumpy bed isn’t lumpy at all, and they can smell… cologne. Wherever they are, Hero isn’t alone. 

Hero’s eyes snap open and they lunge up into a sitting position. “Who’s there?” They call into the pitch-black room. Their chest heaves. Hero can’t seem to catch a full breath. It’s wrong. So wrong. They don’t understand what’s happening… and then the pain sets in, and a few things start to make sense. 

“That would be the broken ribs.” A voice pierces the darkness, “Lay back down. Those wounds didn’t heal overnight, and you can’t escape with your leg broken like that. Go back to sleep, Darling.” 

Hero turns their head toward the dark corner where the voice had come from. Too fast, actually. A wave of nausea and dizziness knocks them back onto their shaky elbows. Their fists are barely closed as they clench them against the additional wave of pain. A faint outline of a person is visible sitting in a chair disturbingly close to Hero. “Who are you? What have you done to me?”

“It’s alright, Hero. It’s just me.” The voice sighs as they click on a lamp. The light blinds Hero for a moment. When their eyes finally adjust, the person has moved from their chair and is hovering over Hero.

“Villain!” Hero’s chest clenches. They remember now. They had been punished for failing again. Hero still wasn’t sure what they had done wrong, but they didn’t question it anymore. They had been on their way home to care for their wounds when they were jumped by 3 of Supervillain’s minions. They had run from their attackers as long as they could, but their leg was weak from their punishment. Maybe even already broken. It gave out, and Hero was surrounded. 

Hero’s life had flashed before their eyes in those last moments. The final thing they saw was Villain, their ex-lover, stepping into the alleyway. It had hurt, to see them again. The world thought Villain was dead. They had gone out of their way to make sure of that. Villain betrayed Hero. When put to the test, Villain had chosen Supervillain. The last person Hero had left in the world had left them without so much as a glance behind them. Supervillain must have sent them back to finish Hero off. 

Tears had run down Hero’s cheeks as they struggled against Villain’s reaching hands. They heard laughter as a voice asked “Who did this to you?” They felt the weight of gravity as their body was moved, then it all faded to black. 

“You need to breathe, Darling. You’re safe. They can’t hurt you anymore.” Villain stands from their chair in the corner. Their fingers are gentle as they run through Hero’s hair. “Please, lay down. You need to rest.” 

Hero shakes their head and Villain’s hands shift. One hand grips the back of their neck, pulling them back toward the bed, and the other presses on their chest. Hero’s arms give out instantly. Biting the inside of their cheek is the only thing that keeps them from crying out as Villain shifts their broken leg. 

Villain pulls the blanket up and tucks Hero in. “There you go. Now, be good and answer my question from before. Okay, My Love?”

“Don’t. Don’t do that.”

“Do what, Darling?”

“Call me that.”

“Call you what, My Love?”

A shiver runs down Hero’s back. “That. Don’t you ever call me that again. Just, just kill me. That’s why Supervillain sent you, isn’t it? That’s why Supervillain’s minions attacked me.”

“You are partially right. Supervillain did send their minions to attack you. However, I am not here to kill you, and Supervillain didn’t send me.” Villain settles back into their chair next to the bed.

“Liar!” Hero lunges back upright. Their chest heaves as they fight through the pain. “You’re a liar. You’ve been working for Supervillain since the day you left me. Don’t pretend like you’re trying to help me. Don’t pretend like you still love me!”

“Enough.”

“Kill me, Villain. If you ever loved me, you’ll just kill me. I can’t do this anymore. I hate you. I don’t want to hurt anymore. Please, don’t let them hurt me. Let it end. It won’t hurt as bad if it's you.”

“Enough.” Villain’s voice is loud in Hero’s ear. Their body is hanging over the edge of the bed, Villain’s arms the only thing keeping them from falling. When did they try to stand? “Lay down. If you try to stand again I will tie you to the bed.”

Hero doesn’t try to fight as Villain lowers them slowly back onto the bed. They start to speak, but Villain cover’s their mouth with one large hand. “Darling, what do you remember from when I found you?” Villain’s grip on them loosens and Hero shakes their head, drawing another sigh from Villain.

“Supervillain is dead. I killed them.” Villain shifts to sit on the side of the bed. “They did try to kill you. The order they gave as they died was to kill you. If I hadn’t left with them, you would have died that day. I couldn’t protect you back then. I had to fake my own death to protect you. I thought you would be safe until I gathered enough power to protect you. I’m sorry I was wrong.

“If I had known they had broken you this badly, I would have done whatever it took to come back sooner. I’m going to make it up to you. I know you couldn’t tell me before when I asked, so tell me now. Who hurt you? Tell me, Darling, who is next to die?”

“You’re a liar.” Hero tries to sit up, but Villain stops them. They pounce on top of Hero, grabbing their hands and pinning them above Hero’s head. Villain’s knee lands between Hero’s legs as they straddle Hero while staying wary of their broken leg. Villain’s eyes close as they rest their forehead against Hero’s. 

“What did I tell you about standing, My Love? Please, I can’t bear to see you get hurt again.” Villain’s grip on Hero’s hands loosens and their fingers intertwine so they’re holding hands. “You don’t have to believe me now. I’ll prove how much I love you. But first, I need to know who did this to you.”

Hero is exhausted. They shift slightly under Villain’s intense declaration. “Supervillain’s minions. There were 3 of them but I…” 

“Who’s the liar now? You know what I mean, Darling. Supervillain’s minions hurt you and they paid for it with their lives, but they aren’t the reason you’re like this. They didn’t break your leg. Now, tell me. Who. Did. This.” Villain’s eyes open slowly and Hero feels as if they’re staring straight into their soul. 

Hero says nothing. If they talk, Villain will go after them. The enemy is too strong. Villain won’t survive by themselves.

Villain exhales heavily, their breath tickling Hero’s nose, “Alright. I’ll show you it’s okay to trust me again. In the meantime… Minion!” 

A quiet person dressed in Villain’s colors enters the room as Villain rises from their position over Hero. “What did you find? Do you have a name?”

Minion bows their head and offers Villain a file. “Hero works for Superhero. They are known in the business for their extreme “punishments” when they feel an underling has failed. Spy retrieved the record of Hero’s punishments you can find in that folder.”

“Well done. That is all.” Villain doesn’t look up as Minion leaves. Their attention is riveted on the contents of the folder. If that truly is the record from Superhero’s office, Hero knows what Villain is seeing. Superhero always made sure everything was well documented for future reference.

“Villain, please don’t. You can’t beat Superhero. Not on your own. They’re too strong!” Villain ignores Hero’s pleas and opens the door, inviting another person in. They both approach Hero as they continue to beg. “Please. Don’t leave me again. I can’t lose you a second time. Don’t do this.” 

With gentle hands, Villain takes Hero’s hand and extends their arm out to the new person. Hero barely has the strength to flinch as they stick a needle in their arm. Villain rubs their thumb over Hero’s bandaged wrist as new tears form in Hero’s eyes. “Don’t fret, My Love. I’m not alone anymore. Supervillain’s army is loyal to me now. I’m going to make you safe. No one will ever dare hurt you again, and I’ll prove I’m not lying when I tell you I still love you. Just rest, My Darling. Rest, and I’ll be back when you wake.”

[shares-a-vest]

Fruity Four Advent Calendar, Day 12: Special Theme - Holiday Songs

Prompt List

In today's ficlet: It's 1994 and Steve is OBSESSED with 'All I Want for Christmas is You' by Mariah Carey. Someone should probably go save Eddie from this festive hellscape and stop Steve from putting his health in jeopardy to get all his Christmas baking done.

'All Steve Wants for Christmas is Eddie'

Eddie finds himself in some kind of never-ending, pop music-induced nightmare hellscape amidst the holidays of 1994. It started innocently enough, he had just picked Steve up from work at Sunnydale preschool and they were on their way home to the crappy little apartment that they were renting.

After years of bickering, they were finally settled when it came to musical tastes. They each had their own, admittedly polar opposite preferences, but found some rare common ground in Queen, Meatloaf and the newer grunge music (much to Eddie's surprise Steve had taken a liking to Nirvana). Day to day it was car radio music if they were carpooling and road trips to visit the kids, newly dispersed at college, required a little negotiating and compromising.

It was just before Thanksgiving, and Steve was already pretty excited that everyone was coming back to town for the weekend, especially Robin and Nancy who had promised him that they would ditch their respective families asap so he could finally get his Betty Crocker on and host a dinner party. Eddie was rounding the corner to their street when Steve gasped, lunging for the volume dial as some lady wobbly talk-sang, "I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need..."

"This is the song!" Steve exclaimed, flailing a hand in the general direction of the car radio.

"What song?" Eddie asked, eyes darting between Steve and the road.

And that's when it started.

Eddie opened the apartment door to let in Nancy and Robin for their little dinner party and of course, Rob made a beeline for her best friend, holding out something in her hand that Eddie couldn't see, too distracted about where to hang Robin's coat she'd launched at him. Nancy took the coat apologetically as Steve gasped, holding up a cassette tape like it was the Holy Grail.

Nancy shook her head, glancing at Eddie with her regular wordless look of, I'm so sorry they are like this.

"Mariah! Mariah!" Robin chanted, gesturing to the heavens, aka, the cracked paint on their kitchen ceiling.

Oh no.

And so Eddie finds himself arriving home from work, his last shift at the mechanic before Christmas to the sound of 'All I Want For Christmas is You' positively blasting its jingling chimes and Mariah Carey's vocal theatrics through their apartment. Thank god they were renting above an abandoned store and didn't have neighbours is all he could say about it.

Eddie reluctantly walks to the kitchen, grimacing. Yes, he hates this song. But it really was far too loud. All because Steve was doing his whole stubborn, stoic hero schtick and still refused to get his hearing checked. But when he finds Steve bopping away, singing with his tone-deaf Bee Gees falsetto, he knows Steve would probably be listening at this volume anyway, impaired hearing or not.

Eddie glares at the little boombox atop the refrigerator, cursing its existence to hell. Steve didn't like wearing headphones, he said they gave him migraines and Eddie knows there's a little Vecna-induced PTSD hidden in there too that he refuses to acknowledge. Steve's cooking up a storm, now onto his god knows what number batch of Christmas cookies. He'd practically turned their kitchen into a goddamn bakery since Sunnydale went on Christmas break, ignoring Eddie's attempts to get him to slow down and relax while he has some time off.

Eddie glances at Steve’s bedazzled Christmas schedule on the refrigerator door. According to his colour-coded system, these should be for Wayne and his work buddies.

Steve looks up, wide-eyed and with flour in his hair. Even though he considers himself a homemaker extraordinaire, he really is quite messy. He puffs out a breath in an attempt to flick back his floppy hair and blushes before moving to the boombox (littered with flour fingerprints), to turn the volume down.

"Sorry," he says quietly, returning immediately to his mixing bowl. "How was your last day?"

"Happy that I get to spend two whole weeks with you, sugarplum," Eddie replies, giving Steve a quick kiss before sliding onto a barstool at the kitchen island. "Although I think I might find myself returning to work in a delicate emotional space after all this."

He gestures vaguely at the source of the sounds assaulting his eardrums.

Steve nods along, waving the wooden spoon around as he circles back to the fridge... At least that's what Eddie thought he was doing.

He presses a button on the boombox and whips around with a mischievous grin, holding the spoon as a microphone.

"I don't want a lot for Christmas," he starts, eyebrows wiggling dramatically. "There is just one thing I need..."

He extends his free hand to point squarely at Eddie as he creeps towards him.

"Nope," Eddie insists, folding his arms with a huff as Steve theatrically launches himself at the counter, resting his head on its surface forlornly.

"... I just want you for my own..."

He points at Eddie again and yeah, he knows. He knows why Steve loves this song.  He knows why Steve always sings along to it. Why he fawned over Robin giving him the album. Why this is really the only Christmas song Eddie has seen Steve love rather than quietly hum along out of habit and familiarity.

"Fine," he relents, gesturing for him to continue. "You be a pop princess for the next however many minutes, Stevie."

Steve grins, missing a few lyrics as he is overcome with giddiness. He recovers and continues on with the theatrics for the first verse and chorus, readying himself for verse two. Eddie can't help but grin as Steve twirls on the spot at, "I won’t even ask for snow", pointing with the wooden spoon at the kitchen window to punctuate the line.

But his face drops when Steve stumbles out of another spin, grabbing the counter to steady himself and dropping the spoon on the floor.

"Whoa!" he says, shocked and wide-eyed as Eddie jumps off the stool and all but leaps over the island to help. He places one hand on Steve's shoulder and one on his hip, spotting him as he white-knuckles the counter and breathes heavily.

"M'fine," Steve insists, shaking his head before swaying at the action. Of course, he's trying to brush it off, like he always does.

"You've been in the kitchen since I left this morning, haven't you?" Eddie chides, trying not to sound too accusatory. 

"... I had lunch," he mumbles, eyes unfocused, a telltale sign he is dizzy.

"Come on, sit," Eddie instructs, immediately steering him to the kitchen stool and bracing himself for Steve getting a migraine.

He hugs him from behind and kisses him on the top of the head.

"How about you stay here and I'll set you up so you can sit down for a while. Have a bit of a break first though, yeah?"

Steve looks down and places his sticky hands over Eddie's. "Thanks, Eds."

"Love you, Stevie," he replies, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.