#happy for him. that he's doing well. that her old english teacher would be proud (will doesn't know who this ''mr. hauser'' is but he

[the-lark-ascending69]

I don't want to see Robin being a good queer mentor to Will. I want her to be so broken inside that all the advice she gives is 1) clearly her projecting 2) sardonically pesimistic and 3) simply bad, terrible advice. I want to see her rambling about her own traumas and end by telling Will the world sucks, that everyone hates you, there's no happy endings and the best thing you can do is crawl into a hole in the earth and cry.

Will feels slightly intimidating watching this weird girl have a mental breakdown in front of him, so he just says "I think I'm gonna go ask Steve"

[pjflmga]

chicago, alessia russo x reader

summary: story based on the song chicago by louis tomlinson. angst and no happy ending. stream chicago it’s banger🔥

a/n: english is not my first language and i’m dead tired + wrote it in the middle of the night, so sorry if the grammar and stuff is shit at times🥲 also it’s like my first fic writte so yea:o ig if you have an idea of a story or smth send them in :)

wc: 1,8k ish

enjoyy

——————————————————

alessia was sitting on the coach of her apartment in north london, as she scrolled through instagram… or stalking through your instagram to be precise. your last post being a picture of your now 18 month(🥲) old baby.

“my baby girl olivia is now 18 months old🥹❤️” the caption said.

a tear formed in her eye as she thought of the name. the name that her and you had come up with together, at the age of 13. the name she thought you would name you little baby together. the name that you now used for your own baby, without her.

————

alessia and you had been close friends since middle school, when you both were 9.

it had been a normal school day where alessia sat daydreaming about going professional in the thing she loved the most, football, when the blondes friend lisa came running towards her.

“lessi!!! giorgio and peter are at it again.” she said while breathing out.

“huh?” the young girl answered as her head jerked up.

“they got into some argument and it’s getting heated.” lisa answered as the two began running towards the fight. “i think you can talk him out of it.” she continued.

“GIORGIO!” she yelled.

“PETER!” someone else yelled at the same time.

alessia saw how her brother and the other boy looked towards her and the other voice quickly. at that time teachers had arrived as well and told the boys off. so instead of parenting her older brother, the blonde looked over to the other voice and caught your eyes, as you were looking at her with curiosity.

“wow” she thought to yourself “she has the coolest outfit ever” so like the 9- year old she was, she walked over to you and introduced herself. “hello, my name is alessia, but my friends call me less or lessi and i think your outfit is so cooll!“ she said.

“hi alessia, i’m y/n, my freinds call me y/n/n. ” you answered excitedly. “thank you, your eyes are so, so pretty.” you continued, entirely mesmerised by her blue eyes. “oh and that potato head over there, is my brother peter.”

“the boy who fought with your brother is my big brother gio. he usually is the best, we play football together all the time!” alessia laughed.

“no way? i love football too!” you screamed excitedly. “would you like to play with me sometime?”

and just like that a wonderful friendship blossomed out between alessia and you. years passed and the bond the blonde shared with you, only grew stronger. as the two of you turned 16 she realised she might be feeling something else than normal friendship for you. little did she know, you felt the same about her.

as the weeks past the two of you became a bit more and more bold and flirtier, and then all of a sudden you started dating. both of your families loved the other girl. even your big brothers had become friendly and only bantered up a little now and then, but more as a joke of course.

after a few months, on alessia’s 17th birthday, you officially asked the blonde to be your girlfriend. she answered more than happily with a “yes!”. the other present from you might have been even better though. it was your black nike hoodie, that smelled just like you.

both alessia and you loved football, but it was clear as a day who was actually going for it and who wasn’t, and had it more like a side hobby.

alessia was thriving and was currently playing for chelsea’s academy team as well as playing for england’s youth team. you were more than happy for her and watched as she smashed in goal after goal week in and week out.

alessia was so proud of you who were doing quite good as well, playing for the local team in kent. ruling the midfield and scoring some nice goals yourself. of course, when she didn’t have training or her own games, she was there to watch.

everything between the two of you was just perfect, you went to school, played football and had each other. and that weekly routine worked perfectly well for you.

but as they say, all good comes to an end.

the blonde striker and you had only one month left of school before graduating and you were buzzing. you had told your girlfriend that you weren’t too sure of what to do now. sure, you had applied for some courses at a university in london. but other than that your plan was to chill a bit, playing some football and so on. it was no real rush anyways.

alessia on the other hand, had big plans coming up. the striker had applied for different collages in the usa to be able to play football on a higher level, as well as studying. but these great plans of hers weren’t anything you were aware of.

so graduation came, you were celebrating with your friends from school, as well as had a graduation party with each other that your families had planned. everything was just perfect. a few days later alessia had to leave for camp, and that’s when she thought it was time to break the news to you.

“uh, y/n…” she started as she felt a big lump in her throat. “i uh- i, i have a applied for some collages in the usa for the upcoming years. and i uh, i got accepted for unc in north carolina.” she stuttered out nervously.

“oh.” was all you got out, as she saw tears threatening behind your eyes. “less that is great for you.” you forced out with a weak smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner, i really am.” the blonde whispered out. “but i just, i just didn’t know how to tell you and then time passed and you kn-“

“i get it alessia.” you said bluntly. alessia frowned a bit at the usage of her full name, instead of one of a nickname she knew you had, on your never ending list.

“but i thought we could make it work anyways. i’d come back when i have breaks, and maybe you could do the same and we call and text each other all the time. i mean we can do that yeah?” she started to ramble.

“i… i have to go.” you said and left, slamming the door in her face a little too hard. with the sound of your steps leaving, alessia broke down on the floor and cried. this was not the way she had thought it’d be.

sad and slow alessia went to camp, as she put on a smile on her face. this time it didn’t quite reach her eyes though. when game day came around, the lionesses were playing in london. the blonde excitedly looked towards the small crowd to see if you were there, like you had planned. but to her disappointment, you weren’t. she saw her mom looking at her with sad smile, confirming what she feared.

after camp, alessia went straight to your house, only to be met by your mom, who didn’t look oh- so happy.

“please let me talk to her, i need to speak to y/n.” the blonde pleaded.

“alessia, she is broken, she doesn’t want to see you right now.” your mom answered with a stern face. “and you know why.” she added quickly.

of course alessia knew all this was her fault, but she also knew this was something she had to do for her career. so when august came around, she packed all her stuff and flew to her new home for the upcoming years.

the two of you hadn’t spoken since before her england camp, despite her texting and calling everyday, with no success of reaching you. as the blonde forward landed in north carolina, she sent yet another text message “i’m in the usa now. i miss you y/n, please call me<3 i know we can work this out”. to her big surprise you this time gave her a short reply “i miss you too, good luck with everything.”

maybe, just maybe this bitter end of yours, would turn around? maybe that could be the case for you two.

—————

the years past and alessia was now in back in england, more specifically in the red side of manchester. she had also gotten her first call up to national team. her time at collage had been an absolute blast, but not one day went without her thinking of you.

thanks to social media, she knew you lived in central london now. she knew you studied at queen mary university to become a journalist, a dream you had had as you grew older. and she knew you had a new life, that didn’t include her.

the years flew by and right out of nowhere alessia was the front face for the lionesses having won the euros, gotten a silver medal in the world cup and was now settled in north london. but still, not a day went by without her thinking of you. not a day went by without her wishing she could tell you about all her adventures and experiences she’d gotten the past years. not a day went by without her wishing to have you in her life. she wondered if you kept up with her life, what you would’ve said and if you were proud of her.

it had been a tough game for arsenal against their blue london rivals, chelsea. the blues had beaten the gooners with a comfortable 3-1 win at stamford bridge. despite the loss, she bid her thank yous to the fans, as well as signing some autographs and taking some photos. just as she was about to walk away into the dressing rooms, she spotted a face she would recognise anywhere. was it you? it couldn’t be? she blinked, and just like that you were gone.

as the striker got home she burst down in tears, putting on the hoodie you once gave her, thinking back to all the times you had been there and comforted her. especially after a loss. you always knew what to say and what to do, to make her feel better.

alessia replayed the day she told you about her heading off to collage over and over again, and thought once again, what she could’ve done differently. so the arsenal player grabbed her phone and typed in your contact, because of course she still had it saved with a red heart next to your name. but she quickly came to her senses and closed her phone. she couldn’t be that selfish.

she knew you were happy and had a baby. she knew that her name was olivia, just like the two of you had planned. what alessia didn’t know was whether after all these years, you had forgiven her or not. because believe her or not, even if it didn’t work out, the years you had together ever since you were 9 years old were the most meaningful and important to her.

but, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

[pablitogavii]

gavi x reader, where he’s all clingy on his birthday and he wants to introduce her to his family like his aunts, uncles and grandparents and she’s so nice to his younger cousins and he’s like falling in love with her all over again bc of how nice she is to everyone, fluff?

Birthday celebration

"I'm so glad everyone could come here for my birthday" Pablo said while you were setting the table at his house in Barcelona smiling when you saw his excited face.

Pablo might be a professional athlete that is already accomplished so much but deep down he is still just a nineteen year old boy excited for his birthday party.

"Me too amor. You look so handsome" you walk up to him fixing his hair a little and he lets you leaning down to kiss your lips when the doorbell rang.

"Guests are here. Go ahead and open amor" you say and he nods rushing to the door in excitement seeing his old childhood friends Mario and Alejandro.

"Welcome guys!" you say hugging them as well smiling when you saw Pablo already opening up resents and thanking them. He was such a cute boy!

"How are you guys? How's Sevilla?" you started the small talk while taking out some drinks and food while Pablo went to open the door again to his family, Aurora and Javi.

"Hola hermanita!" Aurora hugged you first and you smiled hugging her back before Belen joined it kissing your head. His whole family was so sweet to you and your heart melted.

"Mi hija bonita!" Belen said and you blushed seeing Pablo looking at the two of you with a smile on his face.

"What would you like to drink?" you ask and even though Pablo wanted to help you sat him down telling him that he is birthday boy and should enjoy today. Aurora helped you instead.

"Here's your ice tea amor" you put the glass down resting your hands on his strong shoulders while chatting with his parents and Pablo just watched in awe taking one of your hands in his and kissing it.

Doorbell rang again and you leaned in kissing his cheek and whispering "go open up birthday boy" making him smile and do as you said.

"Feliz cumpleaños Pablito!" his abuela walked in with a cake and you smiled when you saw Pablo blushing while walking in with his grandparents into the dining room.

"Puedes darme el pastelseñora, lo pondré en la nevera" [you can give me the cake, and I will put it in the fridge] you say and the lady smiled nodding her head and touching your face gently.

"Tan linda! Será mejor que seas un buen chico, Pablito!" [so beautiful! you better be a good boy Pablito!] she spoke and you smiled nodding your head while walking into the kitchen with the cake.

"Siempre abuela!" Pablo smiled helping them sit down before you brought some refreshments.

"Tu español es tan bueno!" [Your Spanish is so good!] his grandpa said and even Pablo felt so proud that you were willing to learn his language just so you can speak to his family. He was doing the same by learning English and communicating to yours.

"Gracias! Tengo un buen maestro!" [Thank you! I have a good teacher!] you said kissing Pablo's head and he smiled nodding his head proudly saying that you were his best student.

Soon after, Pablo's aunt with her little kids came as well and the boy was very excited to kick ball with their Pablito as they called him. Your heart was filled when you saw Pablo playing with him and just how carefree he felt with his whole family around him.

The little girl always talked about how pretty you are and how she wanted to look like you. She was so cute and you always did her braids whenever she came by so this time was no difference.

"She just always talks about you, querida" Pablo's aunt said and of course Pablo overheard the conversation smiling when he saw how happy his little cousin was sitting on your lap and having ehr hair braided.

He couldn't imagine he finally found someone who is so kind and fits perfectly with his family. There was no doubt in his mind that you were the one.

"Alright, done! Who is ready for the cake!?" you say and both the little girl and boy jumped happily rushing with you towards the kitchen giving Pablo a little break to sit down with the rest of the guests.

"Ella es muy especial Pablito.." [She's very special Pablito..] his grandma said with a smile and Pablo blushed her words meaning so much to him.

"Es una chica tan humilde y amable. ¡Realmente trata bien a nuestro chico y no podríamos estar más felices!" [She's such a humble and kind girl. Really treats our boy right and we couldn't be happier!] his mom added and now Pablo was bright red not really the one to talk much about how he feels.

"Mamá! Ella te escuchará!" [Mom! She'll hear you!] Pablo whined while everyone laughed at his shyness.

"Él es tímido, pero está claro que ella lo hace feliz." [He's just shy but it's clear that she makes him happy.] Javi added and everyone nodded and by that time you were back with the cake singing him a birthday song.

Everyone joined in and when it was done Pablo grabbed your hand closing his eyes to make a wish before blowing his candles and everyone cheered while you moved down to kiss his head.

He stood up as everyone congratulated him once more until he finally came to you holding your waist and pulling you close.

"I had nothing to wish for..I have everything I need right here" he whispered before you both kissed and everyone applauded making you both blush and smile.

"I love you so much..happy birthday cariño!" you say while hugging him happy to have become apart of his family.

[oosleepyfaeoo]

His Little Dragon

A. Targaryen x Child!Reader

Summary: You gave him happiness but a what cost?

Warnings: a lot of angst, death, prepare to cry

Words: 1k

A/n: English is not my first language.

Masterlist

I got inspiration writing this because of this song sooo I'm gonna leave it here for you guys listening while reading.

The harsh wind ran past Aemond's slim figure. His pale skin was numb from the cold gust mixed with small drops of rain constantly flowing down his body. His tears blended with the rain. 

Vhagar stood a few meters away from her rider, groaning in sorrow as she senses his emotions. Behind him was his sister and mother. Both of them cried silently while hugging each other.  

Your joyful laugh still echoes through his head, and your mischievous smile still burned in his eye. Your soft floral scent still lingers in his nose.  

Walking forward, Aemond puts your favorite toy beside your fragile little body. Wrapped in soft white cloth. 

“Kepa jorrāelagon ao sīr olvie, ñuha zaldrītsos.” He whispers as he kisses your head. (Father loves you so much, My little Dragon.) 

/// 

You were his pride and joy. His little flame. 

The first time he saw you, you were fighting with a boy much bigger than you. Kicking his legs to make him kneel and get some bread from his hands. Desperately shoving a piece into your small mouth.  

Smiling softly, he walks toward you. Throwing some coins to the boy to make him leave, Aemond crouches down and offers his waterskin to you.  

Frowning, you eyed him carefully. Suspicious of his intentions. But you were so thirsty that you couldn’t care less if he would slap you, kidnap you or kill you.  

Drinking greedily, Aemond examines you closely. Seeing the miserable state of your dress, all dirty and full of holes. Your little legs were full of scratches and bruises as well your arms. But what caught his attention while he was visiting the Flea Bottom streets, was your long silver hair.  

You had the blood of the dragon in you, that Aemond was sure. But who was your father? The first person coming to his head was his pig of a brother. Aegon.  

You must be his.  

“What’s your name, child?” He asks gently.  

You give his waterskin back, empty now. “I-I don’t h-have o-o-one.” you stuttered. 

Aemond hums. “Do you know how old you are?”  

A proud smile appears on your round face. “I-I’m fi-five!” you said while thrusting your tiny hand to him, showing all your five fingers. 

Offering his large hand to you, Aemond smiles gently at you. “Would you like to see the Castle?”  

Nodding eagerly, you let him take you away from that miserable place.  

Since that day, you were his little dragon. His sweet daughter. He named you Y/n, relishing your sweet smile as you repeat your new name over and over again. 

His mother wasn’t happy with his action, afraid of what people would think of this mysterious silver-haired child. But her worries quickly disappeared as she observes you and Aemond interact, acting like you two knew each other all your lives. Never had she seen her son so happy before. 

Helaena was thrilled to have you in her family, playing with you and her children in the gardens while teaching you everything about bugs.  

Aegon didn’t even notice you, choosing to drown all his problems in wine and whores. Which was for the best since Aemond didn’t want him near you. 

You and Aemond would spend hours and hours in the library. He would teach you to read and write, ignoring Septon's pleas. Saying that he didn’t trust anyone else than himself to be your teacher. 

To Aemond's surprise, you were a quick learner. But you had an issue, you have a speech problem. Which made it difficult for you to make friends. Children would laugh and make cruel jokes about your speech every time you tried to communicate with them.

That would lead you to spend all your time with your adoptive father. You were his little shadow. Whenever he was, you weren’t far. 

Aemond took you to meet Vhagar one morning, laughing softly as he sees the look of awe on your chubby face.  

Your bravery also surprised him. You carefully ran to Vhagar, the big dragon lowering her head to your level, so you could pet her snout gently. Giggles left your mouth as you feel her warm breath tickle your face.  

You two would ride through the clear skies on Vhagar’s back all day. Aemond promise you that he would take you to travel through the seven kingdoms, showing you all the world's wonders.  

That night, while he was reading you a bedtime story. You grab his hand and make him look down at you.  

“W-Will I ever ha-ha-have a dragon, K-kepa?” You timidly asked. 

Aemond closes the book and put it away. He smiles down at you, putting a silver lock behind your small ear.  

“Of course you will, my sweet daughter.” He kisses your head and pulls the blankets up, keeping you protected from the cold night. “When you grow up, you will claim your dragon. Like I did... And then, we will fly together side by side.” 

Little did he know that he could not keep his promise. 

Winter has come and the Stranger walked through Westeros. Collecting lives from Lords, Ladies, Septons, servants, and especially... yours. 

One cloudy morning, Aemond runs through your chamber’s doors. The room is full of maids, working quickly around the room while Maester stood beside your bed. Where you laid there, pale as a ghost.  

The Maester tried everything to bring your fever down. Gave you every potion he could think of it, put you in a cold bath, and gave you a special tea from Free Cities which was said to be the cure for all illness. But nothing worked.  

You only got worse every day.   

“K-Kepa...” You whimper, a grim smile on your face. "It h-hurts..."

Aemond sits beside your limp form, cupping your face gently. Your skin was hot to the touch, but you shivered like you were in the middle of a snowstorm.  

“It’s okay, little dragon...” He says with a teary smile. “Kepa is here... You will be alright...”  

But that was a lie. 

Two days later you died. The city bells rang for days as the King’s Landing folk mourn their Princess’s death.  

On that day, Aemond also died. His soul becomes empty and joyless, the only feeling he felt the most being hatred.  

Hatred for the illness that killed. Hatred for the Maester for not being able to cure you. Hatred for the Stranger that took you from him. Hatred for himself for not being able to protect you like he promised he would... 

/// 

“My Prince... It is time.” Septon's voice brought him back, his lilac gaze focus on your frail form laying on the wooden pit. 

“See you soon, my little dragon.” He whispers, tears running down freely on his face. 

Take a step back, his eye never leaving your wrapped figure. You were with the Gods now and soon he will join you.  

Biting back a cry, he took a deep breath and finally let you rest in piece. 

“...Dracarys...” 

Are you crying yet? >.>

Tag list: @cryptid-l0ver @saelwen @saelwen-shy-elf @papichulo120627

[yuurei20]

Deuce Info Compilation Part 1: Deuce's Mom

Deuce first references his mother during Book 1 when it is revealed that he was “the only man of the house”, so he would help her with the heavy lifting that resulted from when she would “stock up” during sales.

Deuce references helping his mother during sales again in his PE vignette, where he uses the skills he learned as a child to help Sebek acquire pudding for Lilia (“I can’t tell you how many times I was barreled down over a single carton of eggs.”)

Deuce reveals that he had been able to shop for Trey and others at the dorm during the chaos of Sam’s sale, and Sebek compliments him as “a gifted human indeed”.

We get the story of Deuce’s past for the first time during Book 1 when he explains that he had been “wild” when he was younger (“yobisute” was changed to “I called my teachers names” as English does not have honorifics)

He says his change of heart was inspired by overhearing his mother crying about “how she must have been a horrible mom, and that maybe she never should have tried to raise me by herself.” Deuce insists on taking responsibility for his past actions, saying “She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was all me.” When he was accepted to NRC, he “decided then and there that this time, I wouldn’t do anything to make her cry. This time, I’d become an honor student—someone she could be proud of.”

The topic of his mother arises during Wish Upon a Star, as well, with Deuce saying that he once heard her wish for him to stop fighting and live a healthy life.

Deuce’s mother calls him twice during the Wish Upon a Star event, and the first time leads to a conversation with Silver where he says that his old friends used to make fun of him for being so close to her. Silver says, “It’s only natural you’d want to talk regularly with someone you care about.” 

Deuce shares a summarized version of his past with Silver and we learn that, due to his poor reputation, Deuce would get accused of things that he’d had nothing to do with.

He says, “Of course I got a huge attitude when people wouldn’t believe me. Looking back, though, they had every reason not to.” We learn that the only people who ever believed him were his mother and a neighborhood police officer who would always insist on hearing his side of a story and prove that he had an alibi when people tried to frame Deuce for things he hadn’t done.

Deuce says that, “If I could be like that, maybe my mom wouldn’t worry for much”. Deuce explains that this is why he wants to be a police officer when he is older: more specifically, a part of an agency that handles magical crimes, referred to as “magic marshals”. 

Deuce’s mother calls him again at the end of Wish Upon a Star to tell him that “Even Night Raven College couldn’t have asked for a finer Stargazer than you” and “You know I’m very proud of you”, which nearly makes Deuce cry. He says, “One of these days, I’m gonna make my mom happy by making an even bigger wish come true.”

Deuce brings up his dream of joining the police force again in his birthday vignette, saying that he he has put most of his effort into “media research”, watching movies and TV and memorizing “intense-looking running styles” and “cool-sounding one-liners to use when making an arrest”.

Deuce mentions his mother often: in the Culinary Crucible he talks about wanting to “learn how to cook good meals for when I’m at home”, saying that his mother would “always cook egg dishes for my birthday” and “now I know what mom means when she says she adds a pinch of love to her cooking”.

We learn that Deuce would help his mother cook as a child. He says that he recently learned that she’d had a cold, but she didn’t let him know until after she had fully recovered. Deuce says “I kinda wish she’d lean on me more when she’s struggling” and “the next time I visit, I want to cook for her and show that I’m more dependable than ever!”

When Crowley and Ortho threaten to expose the students for not going to rescue Idia from Eliza during the Phantom Bride event Deuce’s reaction is “my mom would cry if she saw me on the news like that”.

He also mentions his mother waiting for him during Winter Holidays, something he wants to buy but cannot afford and how he does not want to ask him mom for money, the curry she would make, sending her a picture of his halloween costume, helping her with household appliances and more.

[avatarvyakara]

Encantubre: What It Means to Me

Dos: Strength

It’s not exactly something tangible, thinks Señora Madrigal, on one of those rare occasions where she allows herself time to think and just be Alma again. Of all the Gifts given, only Pepa’s has any real connotation with power per se. Julieta and Bruno, well, theirs are more for empowering others. And she wasn’t given a Gift.

(Being given a Gift would mean giving up her old house for a new Door. And she wasn’t…wasn’t strong enough to do that.)

But, she thinks, as a cool evening breeze dances across the encanto (she just hopes Pepa isn’t going to have nightmares again, poor girl), that’s not really what it is. It’s about control. Not power. Any thug—any centauro (she will not call them human, even now)—can have power. But reaching out to the universe and saying, “This is what I want and I can make it so,” that’s something to be proud of.

In that respect, Julieta is the strongest of them. By far. Bruno has haphazard control but he’s getting there, and Pepa, for all her might, has never learned to hold it in and let it flow when she needs it. And Alma couldn’t—can’t—teach her how.

Because Alma is weak.

(And that’s another part of it. The encanto sprung up from a moment of weakness in the face of courage that brought only death. If she ever, ever falters again, if she ever thinks for a moment it wasn’t worth it, then she’ll have doomed them all.

Nineteen years on and she still spends almost every night cursing herself for not being strong enough, in her head.)

* * *

Honestly it’s something her brother and sister have. Not her.

Julieta isn’t brave like Pepa. She can’t pull the sky around her and bend the universe to her will, the same way Mamá did in legend. She isn’t wise like Bruno. She doesn’t know what to look for in the future, can’t plan like Mamá can.

What she can do is make certain they can keep going when things get too tough.

They’re all so strong. Not just her family—the whole village, the whole encanto. The magical landscape is there to allow them to live in peace, to come back from their grief and pain and terror and be themselves.

Giving out a piece of her soul to them—that’s what Bruno’s Teacher called it once; odd man—to keep it that way is the least she can do to help.

* * *

“You!” Suddenly Pepa feels mildly enraged, and crackles accordingly. “How on earth are you so happy all the time?”

Félix just smiles at her, sunshine incarnate.

“Because it’s always a beautiful day out,” he says. “Even when it’s raining.”

Darn it. He can’t keep saying stuff like that to her with those eyes, it makes the temperature rise.

(But it’s nice. Where other people seem so weakened by her change in mood, Félix powers through. She can’t hurt him. She never wants to try.)

* * *

“So, Bruno,” says Señor Originario, “what do you think the most powerful magic is?”

The taita is speaking English, which sounds a bit like someone trying to swear through a mouthful of very potent coca leaves. More importantly, he’s using Deep Words—words that reach down into reality and twist it the way you want it to go.

It takes a lot out of you. Animals won’t do it at all—Paloma the Rat calls it Lying, something any Animal fears for in case it wreaks terrible havoc on the world. But humans are just clever enough to be stupid enough to use it.

Deep Words. The Speech. The Song. The Sight. The Dancing Shadow. Summoning and banishing creatures from folklore, creatures far too real for Bruno’s liking. Cosmic Detachment. Birth-Without-Birth. And now Madrigal Magic, that wide and wonderful collection of powers—Gifts—granted to three triplets and localized in one valley that may or may not be in the same reality as the rest of Colombia.

All of it so close. So easy to touch. Knowing how to do magic and not doing it is like not scratching an itch. Never mind that visions make him feel exhausted—not doing visions would make him waste away entirely. When you’ve seen the world from the outside, wouldn’t you do anything to get back there? Learn what you missed the first time?

And all of it’s sitting right there. When God made the world, He left His powers scattered around for people to use, and thank Him that so few people do.

Bruno thinks about the question for some time, up in the taita’s hut on the hill, watching the town of San Ambrosio beneath.

Finally, he says in English, “Not doing any magic at all—but when you know you can and don’t need to.”

“Got it in one, kid,” says the taita, grinning.

* * *

“Wow,” murmurs Félix dreamily after she literally pulls him off his feet for a kiss that seems even better than the last one.

Pepa giggles.

Mán, his girlfriend is strong.

* * *

Agustín isn’t always the best at competitions of muscle or stamina, he’ll admit this freely. But—he cracks his fingers—when it comes to music—

He matches Félix’s tiple and Diego’s accordion note for note, and throws in a few little twists that feel oh so good. He glances sideways at the look his wife is giving him and nearly misses the keyboard entirely, but manages to play on through the blush.

—he can be pretty forte when he wants to be.

* * *

Any centauro can have power. What’s important is control. That’s been the lesson of Isabela’s life. Perfect flowers in perfect poises, that’s the way to be strong.

And then she loses control, just for a moment. She smashes poor Mariano’s nose in. She lets her emotions get the better of her, like Abuela never would. She’s ruined seventeen years of perfection in the span of a single dinner.

She grows a cactus.

And suddenly the Kingdom Plantae explodes within her mind, and like hell is she strong enough to hold it back.

Like hell, she thinks, as her baby sister sings along and they rise to the skies, does she want to.

(If there’s one thing she’s learned from Papá, it’s that forte also means loud.)

* * *

“C’mon, parcero, it’s Luisa. No question there.”

“Couldn’t Camilo technically replicate Luisa’s powers if he wanted to?”

“Nah, nah, it’s Tía Pepa—”

“Got to be—”

“There’s a giant chunk taken out of El Caballero that can attest to that—”

Dolores thinks about eavesdropping the same way other people think about not scratching an itch. And she is, unfortunately, incredibly itchy. It’s a bit like having chicken pox on the brain. Listening in on her boyfriend and her cousins (on her father’s side) and their friends at La Costeñita is honestly just a harmless way of relieving the surface pressure.

“How about you, Mariano?” asks Orlando Morena.

“Dolores.”

For half a second she wonders if she’s just been found out. It’s unlikely, given that she’s helping Papi and Tía Julieta make dinner, but not impossible. (Makes her feel kind of funny. Not necessarily in a bad way.)

A dual snort that can only have come from Cristóbal and Pedro.

“Come on, Mariano.”

“We know you’re making up for lost time courting our dear cousin—”

“Having finally opened your eyes to her magnificence—”

“And of course we’ll maim you slowly and painfully and completely silently if you ever break her heart—”

“But it’s not like she’s listening all the time.”

“You don’t have to go nuts with it, parce.”

“I’m not, though,” says Mariano. Dolores pushes her powers a little further, hears his steady heart-rate, the absolute conviction in his voice, and mildly melts. “I do genuinely think she’s the strongest.”

“You might have to explain that one,” says David Velázquez, scratching his head.

“All the other Madrigals bar her and Señora Pepa either have powers that don’t hurt them or have powers they can turn off,” Mariano explains. “And Señora Pepa’s powers are based on her own emotions, and she can use them to make the weather do incredible things. But Dolores has to sit and hear everything that goes on in this valley all the time, and she can’t stop it. Every argument, every accident, every time someone kills an animal for food, every festival. She heard me every time I bumbled my way through another courting session with her cousin. She’s surrounded by noise all the time. But she puts up with it. She still finds time to help others with their problems. She finds time to comfort people, or to direct Camilo or Mirabel or Señora Julieta to help. And she doesn’t hold grudges. She stays strong.”

All of this has been in a simple, no-nonsense voice. The last bit is tinged with such warmth she’s not entirely certain what to feel. “Dolores is La Corazón del Encanto, amigos. She’s the strongest person I know in the whole world.”

Darn it, Mariano.

“…Dolores?” says Cristóbal.

“Keep him,” suggests Pedro.

Way ahead of you, cousins. Way ahead of you.

* * *

“Uhhh, Camilo? I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

* * *

One very short game of Catch-the-Mirabel later, a somewhat bruised nine-year-old Camilo is inclined to agree.

On the other hand his best friend is laughing her head off after having been in a slump for over a week, and he honestly has never felt stronger.

* * *

Mirabel can feel the Song threading itself across the world, now that’s she’s finally paying attention to it. And she knows, she just knows, that it would be so easy to stretch out and start singing. Start changing things again.

She won’t, though. It’s a terrible temptation, but she won’t. She helped the family bring back Casita. She doesn’t need the Song anymore.

Well. Except on special occasions.

“¡Feliz cumpleaños, Antonio!”

Although where the out-of-picture marching band came from is beyond even Tío Bruno to figure out, it seems.

* * *

“You don’t have to do it all on your own,” says Antonio, simply. “That’s not what being strong means.”

Beside him, Parce the Jaguar grumbles low in silent agreement. Pico the Toucan clicks his beak approvingly. Chispi the Capybara blinks slowly. Mariana the Kinkajou stares expectantly.

Abuela smiles.

“I think I’m coming to learn that, Antonio. Thank you.”

[captainstevenjohnstonme]

28 Scarecrow's.

In the Victorian countryside between the cities of Bendigo and Ballarat you will find a small town named Talbot which back in the 1850's was the hub of the gold rush that brought a lot of people to town hoping to strike it rich.

Nowadays Talbot is mainly know for its historical buildings, vineyards, farming and tourism but lately some of the locals have begun to feel uneasy.

Something bad is on its way to Talbot.

Something very bad.

In a classroom at the local public school 28 kids listen in silence as their teacher, Mrs Foster is 25 years old with more curves than a mountain road and all of the boys in the class have a crush on her.

'Good morning children.'

Good morning Mrs Foster.'

'Just for today I won't be teaching English because as you will have heard a lot of people in Talbot including most of your parents are losing crops and grapes due to flying foxes and birds.'

'Can any of you tell what is the best way to scare away birds?'

A shy ginger haired 10 year old boy who normally doesn't say boo in class puts up his hand. Mrs Foster is happy to see Billy Bristow coming out of shell so she points at him 'Yes Billy.'

'Well Mrs Foster I heard my Dad say the other day that Gran's face would scare the birds out of the sky so I say Granny Bristow is your best bet.'

All of the kids burst out laughing and it takes Mrs Foster a couple of minutes to quieten them down. 'Alright children that's enough nonsense for today.'

The teacher has had the misfortune of meeting Granny Bristow a few times and is inclined to agree with Billy but instead she says 'Thanks for the suggestion Billy but I was thinking along the lines of us all making a scarecrow, what do you say children?'

Instantly 28 kids jump to their feet laughing happily 'Good now for the rest of the day you will have your normal lessons but when you go home try to find anything you think will make a scarecrow and bring them to school tomorrow.'

For a week the kids and their teacher make 28 scarecrows from old brooms, raincoats, hats, old clothes, straw and other discarded items.

Over the weekend the excited kids help their fathers plant the scarecrows amongst the crops and vines.

Now only time will tell if building the 28 scarecrow was worth the effort or not.

On the following Tuesday evening one of the biggest storms ever seen in Talbot begins to brew.

All of the residents batten down the hatches in preparation but nothing could prepare them for what was about to hit.

Just on midnight the sky turned ink black and five planets including earth aligned for just a split second but it was enough for evil to emerge and strike Talbot at it's heart.

Over one thousand homes were destroyed by cyclonic winds while out in the fields miraculously all of the crops and grapes were spared by millions of lightning strikes but sadly all 28 scarecrows weren't so lucky.

They were jolted over and over again all evening by the master of sparks and when the sun came up all 28 scarecrows were now standing proud and strong ready to strike while the iron was hot.

One of the farms that were lucky to escape the storm is the Fellows place where the birds were decimating his grapes to the point where Ryan Fellows whose son Johnny brought home a scarecrow from school the other day was thinking about pulling the pin and moving his family down to Melbourne but since the scarecrow arrived he hasn't seen a single bird.

But as Ryan walks through the vines inspecting the grapes for any damage he suddenly realizes that the vineyard is dead quiet, in fact he hasn't seen or heard a single animal since the storm and the arrival of that scarecrow.

He looks over towards Talbot and counts his blessings because his family is safe not like the people who live in the town who have lost everything but luckily no one lost their lives.

James Phelan a farmer who lives on the western edge of Talbot who was losing money hand over fist because of flying foxes and cockatoo's eating most of this seasons apricots and plums is happier now because ever since his daughter Sally brought home that ugly scarecrow from school all of the birds and flying foxes seem to have gone south for an early winter.

But just like Ryan Fellows James has also noticed the lack of noise from the cicada's who usually fill the air with their droning, even the livestock and the pet dogs in town are silent to the point of eeriness.

At 10 pm when most farmers are snuggled up in bed the 28 scarecrows that are scattered all around the circumference of Talbot snap to attention, open their eyes and start talking on the wind stirring up trouble, then all 28 scarecrows begin to howl.

Everybody in Talbot hear the howling and their skin tingles in dread because they know that whatever is making that sound is mighty close to town and they sound hungry.

The 28 families who's kids brought home a scarecrow race outside to see what is happening in sleepy little Talbot.

When they get further away from their house they all notice the scarecrow guarding the crops are glowing bright orange and when they see the people approaching they begin to screech a nasty noise that is heard all around the state.

The 28 families turn and run back inside their homes as fast as their legs will take them but they would have been better running to the hills because the scarecrows hasn't finished with Talbot just yet.

The screeching shakes the sky and the black clouds unleash a torrent of water that falls into the following day and the day after that.

A week later the water continues to rise inundating the town and surrounds and the poor people who have already lost their homes to the earlier storm try to escape the flood but most succumb to the deluge drowning in a sea of sorrow.

The 28 scarecrows wait for the water is touch their toes than all 28 drop into the water and swim away searching for a human meal because they are all mighty hungry.

The 28 scarecrows last meal was over 1000 years ago when they feasted on the unlucky soldiers who perished in the Boer war.

The 28 scarecrows go from house to house, street to street bevouring the dead and the dying leaving not even a single bone behind.

Even the 28 kids and their families were consumed by the scarecrows who showed no mercy to the people who gave them a home.

The authorities who hurried to Talbot by road and air who unable to enter the town because an invisible forcefield was blocking access.

The prime minister of Australia declared a state of emergency and ordered all armed personnel to return to their barracks in preparation of war.

THE END

Part Two coming soon.

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 1, Episode 2

Episode 2 picks up the morning day after the initiation party, the girls are having breakfast lunch at their dorm, the boys at theirs, and everyone wants the juicy details about what happened at the party...

Culture: Tell me more, tell me more, did you get very far? Although, it's pretty funny how the roles are reversed, Maddie is all "meh" about it, while Nils tells a different story. Then again, since when do you get together after a blowjob?

Culture: I actually have no idea why Simon is having breakfast at Skogsbacken, since regular schools only cover lunch for students, everyone eats breakfast at home, and then goes to school. Then again, it allows a scene where (Never mind, they're having lunch, thanks @kamand !) Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm casts some nervous glances at Simon after having been called out for disappearing at the party and almost forced to confess to making out with someone.

Culture: I know Felice is trying to put August down, but don't knock a proper Swedish pizza! As much as I like living in the US, they can't fucking make pizzas here, and the first thing I eat every time I go back to Sweden is always a real pizza. With pineapple and shrimp as God intended pizza to be made!

Culture: August is namedropping ski resorts in the Alps, which is where you go skiing in Europe if you have money, although Saint-Martin-de-Belleville is actually near Val Thorens in France, while Verbier is in Switzerland. It does have a three-star restaurant, though. Sweden and Norway have a couple of decent ski resorts, but the Scandinavian mountain chain is simply not as impressive as the Alps.

Subtext: Remember Wilhelm getting up and hurrying to math class in the beginning of the scene? It was so he could grab the other seat next to Simon, because he knows Simon is gonna sit next to Sara, since no-one else does.

Culture: Formally greeting your teacher before class is very uncommon in Sweden, but since Hillerska is all about discipline and tradition, of course they do it. Note that they're again using the formal Swedish title for male teachers, Magister, which in a regular school would be kind of a joke, since teachers and students are on a first-name basis with each other.

Subtext: Wilhelm is exposing how the world works if you have money. At Simon's old school, studying alone would result in good grades, but Hillerska is slightly corrupt and almost expects the students to essentially pay for getting a good grade.

Subtext: Simon is lying to his teacher, he absolutely hasn't talked to his parents about paying for private lessons.

Subtext: No, Sara absolutely does care about what other people think about her, and when she directly tells Felice that she would actually like some friends, that's when Felice gets it and starts making an effort to become real friends with her.

Culture: They're all bilingual at Simon's home, they're all speaking Spanish and Swedish, although Linda has a very noticeable accent to her Swedish. Based on demographics and statistics, the most likely scenario is that Linda immigrated to Sweden from Chile, met Micke, and started a family. In real life, Omar Rudberg was born in Venezuela and grew up in Sweden, while Carmen Gloria Pérez was born in New York, and grew up in Puerto Rico.

Subtext: Remember how I talked in the intro post about how distant social classes know nothing of each other? Ayub and Rosh are either working class or lower middle class like Simon, and since rowing is a typical upper class sport, they know nothing of it, they don't even think of it as a real sport. Unlike football, which is a proper working class sport, they know all about that!

Subtext: Scandinavia has Jantelagen, and everyone there thinks it's uniquely Scandinavian, but all countries have some form of Tall Poppy Syndrome. In this scene, Simon is starting to make a class journey, he started rowing, he started trying to fit in with the other upper-class kids, and getting into a relationship with someone as upper-class as Wilhelm would definitely move him all the way. But going on a journey means leaving things behind, which is why Rosh and Ayub are cutting him down and literally turning their backs on him. They like it in the small town of Bjärstad, why can't he be happy there too? Why is he betraying his roots?

Subtext: This comment from August nicely foreshadows a later episode when August does something traceable on a School computer...

Subtext: What August means is that he's not sure Wilhelm has the same desire to be accultured into the upper class, to play the part of a proper prince, in the same way that he and Erik have accepted their roles and are even enjoying them.

Culture: Although it's impossible to read the name of the medicine, the paper tag on the bottle indicates that it's some kind of prescription medicine. From the conversation with Vincent, we learn that it's some kind of ADHD medication, probably some kind of Dextroamphetamine since those improve athletic ability and cognitive functions in healthy people.

Culture: Birkenstock sandals are associated with hippies in Sweden as well as in many parts of the world, so August is actually saying that the school counselor isn't really part of the same upper-class society as the rest of the staff. And again, his use of the word sosse drives the point home.

Subtext: Consequently, the counselor sees right through August and refuses to immediately prescribe him the medication that he wants...

Subtext: ...even though August tries to both bribe him and threaten him into giving him the medication he wants.

Subtext: A big theme of this episode is class journeys, and in this scene and a previous exercise scene, August gushes about how good a thing that is, how proud he is of Simon for going on one, and spouts some crap about how everyone can make it if they really want to.

Subtext: Thankfully, Madison says what we're all thinking: August is full of shit, life isn't fair, and they're only at the school because they were born into privilege.

Blink and you miss it: After Wilhelm has nervously texted his crush for the first time, he starts to bite his fingernails, but quickly stops himself, because why would he be nervous? He's just texting another boy about rowing practice, there's nothing more to it!

Subtext: Simon's texting game is on point though, he knows exactly what he should write to get Wilhelm to go on a totally-not-a-date with him.

Subtext: In the same way that August couldn't convince the counselor about being sick, I don't think Wilhelm's atrocious acting here convinces August that he's sick either.

Culture: Public transport in the greater Stockholm area - or wherever we're supposed to be - is of course cash-less, and you pay by either charging a special card, or by signing up in their app and buying tickets through there. The point of this scene though is to drive home how Wilhelm has never ever had to take the bus before in his life, and therefore has no idea how it works.

Culture: The totally-not-a-date starts at a Circle K, which in Sweden is just another gas station, but it is actually a Canadian multi-national convenience store corporation. The price of gas is of course posted in kr/l, and 13.98kr/l corresponds to roughly $6/gal.

Subtext: Throughout the totally-not-a-date, Wilhelm is trying to reach for common ground with Simon, trying to show him how he's just a regular guy...

Subtext: ...but then real life intrudes, Wilhelm is recognized by some local girls, who call out to him and run away giggling, which shows how he's not a regular guy, he's going to get recognized wherever he goes.

Culture: Kokt eller grillat, boiled or grilled, are the two ways you can get your hot-dog at pretty much any hot-dog place in Sweden, and ketchup and mustard is always offered. The correct answer to this question is of course grilled, with ketchup and mustard, and this just shows that Wilhelm is a man of culture and good taste. Unfortunately, they were out grilled ones, so they all got boring soggy boiled hot-dogs instead. Is there a metaphor here? I don't know.

Subtext: Again, the show drives home the point that absolutely no-one has a problem with people being gay. Simon is clearly out to Ayub and the rest of his friends, and Ayub immediately picks up on the fact that this is totally a date.

Blink and you miss it: Ayub nudges Simon with his elbow to tell him that he should make a move on Wilhelm.

Culture: What we're looking at is just the local junior/high school football team, Bjärstad, playing a match against some other unnamed junior football team. Since the stakes are super low, the audience basically consists of whichever parents and friends of the players that could be bothered showing up.

Culture: Driving age is 18 in Sweden, and even then getting your own car at that age is extremely uncommon. However, you can easily get a license for a moped when you turn 15, so these are the vehicles of choice for teenagers to get around.

Subtext: August found out about Wilhelm's trip to town, but his main problem with it is that he wants Wilhelm to stop slumming it with lower class people, and to start hanging out with everyone at school instead, so that he can be properly accultured into the upper class. Again, sosse in this context means working class, not socialist.

Subtext: Although Simon felt really great about his first date with Wilhelm, the text message reminds him that Wilhelm isn't a regular person, and that even this innocent little trip generates interest and scrutiny, and can't be posted publicly.

Culture: As everyone should have noticed by now, Madison keeps speaking English, while everyone speaks to her in Swedish, so clearly she understands it. But here she gives her motivation for sticking to English, and that is that she doesn't feel she's good enough at speaking Swedish. Boarding schools like Hillerska attracts international students that have some kind of connection to the country, so a likely scenario is that Madison grew up in the US with a Swedish parent, and she's being sent here to experience Swedish culture and get immersed in the language to learn it better.

Cinematography: This shot of August drives really home all the pressure he is under, he's out of drugs, the headmistress just hinted that he's out of money, and he's literally being weighed down by books and work-out weights.

Subtext: Simon has kept his visits to Micke a secret from Sara, so here he has to intervene to make sure August doesn't accidentally reveal this to her. He also wants to protect his sister, so he's redirecting August's search for drugs onto himself.

Subtext: And on the flipside, Simon isn't really telling his dad that Sara still hates him and really doesn't want to see him, so he's vague when Micke asks about Sara and Linda.

Culture: Finally a bottle of medicine where we can read the label! Unfortunately for Simon, this is Tramadol, an opiate prescribed for pain relief, which is the complete opposite of the kind of drugs August wants.

Subtext: If you haven't figured out yet that this episode is about class journeys, August spells it out for us here. However, the reason he's "congratulating" Simon in front of everybody is because Simon just supplied him with more drugs, so this is his way of thanking him, since he can't really pay him.

Blink and you miss it: For a split second, Wilhelm grabs Simon's leg during the scary scene.

Subtext: The entire dialogue of the movie works as subtext for what's actually going on between Wilhelm and Simon at this point, and Wilhelm is getting a little freaked out by this sneaky display of affection.

Subtext: The movie also puts words on the implications of Wilhelm getting together with a boy, what about having kids in the future? Can you carry on your family name and traditions, or will they die with you?

Lost in translation: The plaque actually says "FEEL YOUR RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE HERITAGE". Even though the plaque means the heritage and legacy of the school itself, Wilhelm is thinking about his legacy, his heritage, and how getting together with Simon would threaten that.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm actually says "jag är inte en..." - "I'm not a..." before he stops himself. So it's not possible that he was trying to say "I'm not gay", because that doesn't work grammatically in Swedish either. He could be trying to say "I'm not a guy like that" or "I'm not a guy who likes guys", that would work.

Cinematography: The framing and silhouetting of this shot is just chef's kiss. The outline of their hair allows us to see who is who, and we can see from their poses that Simon is welcoming a kiss, while Wilhelm is still hesitating.

[84hotpockets]

And Everything Goes Back To The Beginning

About 1.8 k mostly about Aaron Hotchner's not-so-great childhood. Implied abuse, mentioning of blood, cameos by Haley Brooks, Roy Brooks, and Jack Hotchner. Not a happy fic.

Good job. Have fun. Be careful. I’m proud of you. I love you.

Those words were never said in the house at the end of the street. The one everyone in town knew, the house with the white picket fence that got a new coat of paint at least once a year, the one with the well-kept lawn that made the townspeople joke the country club’s greenskeeper should get some advice from the owners, since holes 3, 8 and 14 had patches where the players could barely distinguish the green from the rough. The house that was too quiet for a home of four, the one that never had a haphazardly discarded bicycle in the driveway, balls lying around in the yard, or baseball equipment on the front porch.

Behind closed doors, those who were lucky enough to be invited in or had the misfortune of being ordered to enter, agreed that the place felt wrong. It was too perfect, the smiles too bright, the rooms too dark, the children too quiet, and it was always too cold. It didn’t matter whether it was the middle of summer or winter, there was always a chill in the air that had nothing to do with the temperature. Everyone who made it out unscathed hoped that they’d never have to return. Only three or maybe even two generations ago, it had been a different place, full of light, laughter, and joy. These days though, it seemed as if there was a geostationary dark cloud over the house and its occupants.

Aaron Hotchner had learned early on that he better did all of the chores he was tasked with perfectly. If he did, there was never a „Good job, son,“ from his parents, but since the alternative, depending on his father's mood and state of drunkenness, varied between a backhand to his face, 10 lashes with a belt, or several hours spent without food or water in the small closet under the stairs, he always tried his best. Too often though, it wasn’t enough.

„Good job, Aaron,“ his English teacher said, handing him back his essay, marked with a big red A- and a smiley face. He wondered if he had something wrong because the 9-year-old stared at him, unblinking as if he had grown another head. If he had known that this was the first time the boy was praised for something he had done, he would have questioned his faith in humanity.

„Have fun, kids!“ While all of his peers couldn’t wait to hear the three words that would release them into their summer holidays, Aaron dreaded them. Those words meant that he had to spend the next weeks home, walking on eggshells, tippy-toeing around the house, trying to avoid his father and his moods as much as possible by spending hours sitting at the river that flowed through the woods behind their backyard, reading one book after the other, or, if a thunderstorm was about to hit the town, at the library. It wasn’t by accident that he got an A in English.

The first time that he didn’t dread the words but actually smiled when he heard them, was the summer after his father’s funeral. It would have been the happiest summer he could’ve imagined if it hadn’t been for his little brother Sean, who truly missed their dad.

Words of caution were never directed at him. His brother was too young to fully understand the family dynamics, while his mother was preoccupied with her own fight for survival. She didn’t delight in the fact that her husband more often than not chose his eldest son over her as a release for his anger, and while she sometimes felt guilty, she never warned Aaron if Michael Hotchner was in an especially bad mood. It would have been easy for her to utter „Be careful when you go upstairs. Your dad lost quite some money at the track today.“ That was all the warning that he would have needed. Mrs Hotchner kept quiet though, hoping that Aaron would make it okay to his room and through the night. Half an hour later the noise from upstairs told her that sometimes hope wasn’t enough. Maybe Aaron’s music was too loud (it wasn’t) or he did slam the bathroom door shut (he didn't). He only had to blame himself for those, in his father’s eyes, grave mistakes. At least that’s what she told herself when she tried to drown her son’s cries in the sixth glass of wine.

„Be careful, son! It’s a bad one. You better see that you get a roof over your head.“ Aaron stopped dead in his tracks when the farmer passing him by on the outskirts of town yelled those words at him. He had been restless for the last few days and had decided to go for a run. If he had listened to the weather report, he would have known that the afternoon’s forecast said that there’d be heavy rainfall and maybe a few thunderstorms. Since he didn’t and his run took him farther than planned, he was still a few miles from home when the first drops fell. The farmer, who had driven on, suddenly reversed and opened the door. „Come on, jump in. The missus would never forgive me if I told her that I let a beanstalk like yourself get drenched.“ Aaron nodded and got into the pick-up, murmured something the farmer took as a thank you, and they drove back into town in companionable silence, listening to the sound of the rain hitting the windshield and the rusty roof of the car. Once he was back home it occurred to him that this had been the first time someone was worried about him and took the appropriate action. Even though he had been inside and had already dried his hair and face with a towel, he blinked and had to wipe some new droplets from his face.

His father was a proud man even though there was little he could be proud of. A lot of people in town feared him and his powerful friends, they were afraid of his mood swings and cruelty, but no one even dared to confront him about it. He never told a single person that he himself was proud of them, especially not his eldest son, the wretched boy who had ruined his life by entering the world, the crying baby who had kept him awake before a trial, the toddler who had given him chickenpox. Why would he tell him that he was proud of him for his kindness, his athleticism, his school grades, or the way he cared about his little brother? No, for as long as he lived, he kept those words for himself.

When Haley dragged a bleeding Aaron through her parents’ hallway in the direction of the bathroom, both of them hoped that Mr Brooks wouldn’t wake from his afternoon nap. The man had slowly come to terms with the fact that his youngest daughter was spending a lot of time with the Hotchner boy. At first, he had had his reservations, the sins of the father and all that, but getting to know him better and better taught him all he needed to know: Aaron was almost shy and nervous around other people, eager to help, ever so careful not to drop or break anything, and startled by loud and sudden noises. Sometimes Mr Brooks got the feeling that the boy seemed to have more in common with two of his old army buddies, whose trauma left them in a state of almost permanent hypervigilance, than with all the other kids his age. When he woke up on that Sunday afternoon, he heard his daughter shushing Aaron, who groaned in pain. Alarmed, he got off the sofa, didn’t even put his shoes on, and walked out into the hallway, just in time to see Haley closing the bathroom door. As he took another step he almost slipped on a wet spot. Blood. Not much, but enough to leave a cluster of droplets. When he stormed into the bathroom, Aaron, who was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, immediately jumped up and put himself between Haley and the potential danger entering the small space. Suddenly, a lot of things began to make sense for Mr Brooks. With a few words he managed to calm him down and even helped Haley dress the cuts and bruises on her friend’s hands and face. Later, long after Aaron had left, Haley told him about the group of older boys who tried to grab her, and if it hadn’t been for Aaron, well, who knows what would have happened. The next time Mr Brooks saw the boy, he told him how proud he was of him.

If there was one thing Jack Hotchner knew, it was that he was loved. Despite all the bad things that had happened to him and his family before he was barely 15, he was sure of that. His aunt and his grandfather had told him again and again. His mum had told him almost every day. Sometimes with words, sometimes with a hug, and sometimes with a special treat even though he didn’t really deserve one. His father was the same. He didn’t say it as often with words as his mother had done, but he too did in so many other ways, with praise for well-baked cookies, with coaching his soccer team, or a presentation for this class, with getting him the winning costume for his school’s Halloween contest, and with retiring after their time in witsec. If someone had told him that by the time he was 12 years old, his father had never had anyone say or even show him how much he was loved, he wouldn’t have believed it, wouldn’t have been able to understand it.

13-year-old Aaron Hotchner was exhausted from painting the fence in the humid summer heat. After taking a much-needed shower, he tried to enjoy a few minutes of calm and quiet before he had to go downstairs and help with dinner. His break was cut short when his baby brother Sean barrelled into his room, holding out his favorite toy truck and a loose wheel. Aaron sighed dramatically and fixed the wheel. When he crouched down to give the toy back to his brother, the boy hugged him. „Love you, Aaron.“ Only when Sean had left, Aaron realized that this was the first time anyone had told him that. His happiness only lasted for a few minutes though. When his mother called him down to help her in the kitchen, she only told him to wipe that smug grin from his face before his father would do it for him. It was another two years before he heard those words again.

— the end —

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

REQUEST (Nerd!Felix/Yongbok x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, humiliation, degradation, brat taming, watersports, breath play, rough filthy shit. Read at own risk.

"If that isn't our little Yongbokkieeee~" Felix sighed and shut his eyes tightly when he heard the familiar dreadful voice from behind, holding the straps of his school bag even tighter. "Aigoooi~ aren't you in a hurry, foreign booooy?" Her perfectly manicured hand placed on the boy's shoulder, pulling him back.

"Let go, Y/n-ah…" The boy spoke, trying his best not to snap at the little slut. She was so foolish. A fucking clown. A narrow minded little racist bitch. That's what.

"Ahhhh… your Korean is soooo adorable…" Before she moved to stand in front of him, heavy tits tightly packed in her school shirt, the first few buttons up. "What's the rush, Aussie boy? Too proud to make friends? Tsk, tsk!" Felix felt like smacking her infuriatingly cute little face.

"You know it's not like tha-"

"LISTEN UP, EVERYONE!" Y/n clapped and got everyone's attention, the whole hallway of students going home stopping to look at her. "OUR FOREIGN BOY DOESN'T WANNA BE FRIENDS~" she pouted as if it really hurt her. "HE AVOIDED ME ALL DAY IN SCHOOL TOO! HOW PROUD, TSK!" Everyone booed him, calling him names and whatnot. It was terrible.

Had he known moving to Korea was going to be like this he'd have never agreed. They made fun of his looks, his accent, the grammatical errors he made and his English name that he preferred. Even though Felix was using his English name in his documents now that he was all grown up, Y/n had somehow learnt his Korean one and she wasn't going to let him live it down.

"Aigo what a loser" splashing the juice in her hand at his shirt, the girl clicked her tongue and walked away while laughing, leaving the boy in absolute despair due to how badly it stained his shirt.

He didn't want to hurt her because she was clearly fucking naive and dumb but fuck. Y/n was making it fucking hard.

.

Felix checked his room one last time to make sure it was clean and smelt nice with just the right amount of ventilation. Setting his books up on the foldable desks he'd set up on the bed, the boy opened up the other desk too. His mom had asked him if he could teach her bestfriend's child some English as they were apparently in the same year as him. The boy was happy to help and agreed so now his mom's friend was going to drop the kid off at their house that he didn't know anything about.

And who else could it be other than the one and only. How fucking cliche.

The male was unsure of how to act when he heard his mom's voice and another women's before his door was knocked, opening as Mrs. Lee along a stern looking tall and built women in a police uniform appeared.

Felix got up and respectfully bowed to the women as she greeted him back, her friendly smile really unusual for her stern features. "Hello, dear. Thank you so much for your kind gesture. I've been looking for a good teacher for quite some time now but my child is… slow." She chuckled. "Maybe it'd be easier for her if someone her age teaches her…"

"Oh, of course. No problem at all. I'd be actually very happy to help. That way I get to revise too and study from a different perspective, ma'am." He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop the smirk from appearing on his face. Oh. She was trying her best to hide behind her mother but Felix had seen the pathetic little girl.

Oh how fucking perfect.

"Ah I hope my kid can learn well from you in not just academics but manners too… Now! Y/n-ah- where…" Her mother looked for her before turning around to find her hiding, gripping her wrist and pulling her in front of the taller boy. "There you are. Now… learn well okay? Felix will take well care of you" her mother glanced at the boy and he nodded, bowing a little bit as he said of course.

Y/n was trying not to die as she was made to stand right in front of fucking Yongbok out of all! How was she so stupid?! She should have put two and two together! Oh fuck! This was bad! This was terrible for her image! Now he knew that she was looking for tuition and not all that careless about studies as she seemed to act like back in school. And she also wasn't a badass in her private life.

Fuck.

"Be good. I'll pick you up on my way back, alright?" The girl had non-existent balls to brat with her mother as she was a firm police woman and knew how to get brats going. She had gotten enough harsh punishments from her mom to even dare to try. Y/n did her best to pretend to be a good kid. Or her mom had threatened to send her off to juvi or a boarding school! "Hm?"

The girl whimpered, feeling the boy's gaze burn into her very soul. "Y- Yes, mommy." She could only whisper back, head lowered all the way.

"Good baby. Now give mommy a kiss." Y/n could die of embarrassment right now, her cheeks burning as she felt humiliated. Oh she had no idea what was coming her way. This was nothing. Her mother still treated her like a 4 year old baby and not like she was 18. It was so fucking stupid!

"Y- Yes, mommy…" There was no use hiding. Yongbok could see it all and he was quietly observing it. Standing on her tippy toes because of being much smaller than her mom, Y/n kissed her cheek. "Bye, mommy." The copper ruffled her daughter's head before leaving with Felix's mother who was also dressed for work.

Lowering her head even more when it was just the both of them, Y/n held her bag right as she didn't turn around, not wanting to face the smug boy, whimpering when he stepped forward to close his door.

"She… doesn't know, does she?" Felix's deep voice pierced through her soul as he turned around to look down at her now, grinning wide. "Tsk… look at this cute little turtleneck and long skirt… those baby shoes and these pigtails…" Y/n felt her heart starting to pound when he suddenly tugged at her twin ponytails, her cheeks feeling even hotter in pure humiliation. "If only you were actually a good babygirl like your 'mommy' thinks and not a skimpy little slutty whore ridiculing people for no fucking reason at school" clicking his tongue, the boy walked to his bed and plopped on it in a relaxed manner, well aware that he had her exactly where a bitch like her should be. "I wonder how she will react if she finds out that you are actually-"

"N- NO PLEASE!" Y/n finally found her voice and rushed to him, helplessly pleading. "PLEASE DON'T TELL M- MOMMY! I- I AM SORRY!" She struggled, not knowing what to say. This was so awkward and strange. Something she'd never thought of. Fuck.

"Ahhh so you really are an all talk whore, tsk. Acting all cool and fearless in school but actually a pathetic little mommy's baby." Felix chuckled tauntingly and shook his head, eyes cold. Months. She'd been troubling him for months simply because he was a foreigner and made mistakes in Korean. "Come here, let me see. I wouldn't be surprised if you're also wearing a nappy under that cute skirt. Do you need a change?" He teasingly went to grab her arm which caused the girl to stagger backwards.

"N- No! No, Y- Yon- Felix! I- I swear I am not! I am not wearing a-- p- please! Don't do this! I- I won't bother you again! You don't even have to tutor me! Just please don't tell mom!" Y/n hated how pathetically she had to beg him.

"Ah… so it's suddenly Felix now, huh?" The male chuckled before speaking again. "Since I am not a pathetic slut like you, I won't tell your mom but in exchange, you'll have to be good for me. If you oblige, good. If you don't, I'll have to tell her, little one. Because what you're doing will end up harming someone really bad."

The girl desperately dropped her bag, sitting in his feet and holding his knees. "Y- Yes! Yes! Alright! I'll be good! I'll do whatever you want! Just don't tell mom! I don't wanna go to juvi or boarding-" her eyes widened before she slapped her mouth shut. Oh no! She didn't just tell him that!

Felix threw his head back and laughed. "Ahhh so it's like that, I see…" He was enjoying this. Looking down at her, Felix felt something stir inside him as his eyes got darker. She looked so fucking perfect kneeling under him like this. It was getting so hard to hold back now that he had her. "Fine. If you don't want to go to boarding or juvi, you'll have to be my little fuck piggy. And when I say that, I mean it. You'll be my literal plaything and there will be no denying my orders. You'll have to obey and be good like a brainless little slave doll… You will only know what I allow. You will only do as I say. No using your own brain, not that it is very smart anyway… That is the price." He had always had… dark desires. Which was one of the reasons he'd never dated much. But when Felix had seen Y/n all those months ago in school for the first time, he had unintentionally imagined how it would feel to ruin her to the point of despair before building her back up.

And now that he was so close to having it. Fuck. The boy was going insane.

Y/n nodded slowly, tears forming in her eyes as she bit her lip. "Y- Yes, I… I agree. I- I'll be your d- doll, Felix… J- Just please d- don't tell anyone… I- I beg you… I- I don't wanna g- go to boarding or…" A sob left her, his finger catching her tear amidst of falling down.

This was so wrong. But she deserved it. Felix was absolutely disgusted by bullies.

"Don't worry. Like your mother said, I'll take goood care of you." The naive girl had no idea what she had signed herself up for or just what his words meant. "Then… why don't you prove your worth by getting up and stripping to let me see my belongings... And, get those dirty little hands off. Fuck toys don't deserve to touch Master unless allowed." Felix swatted them off.

"W- What? M- Master…? S- Strip?" Y/n was lost.

"What else did you think? Some Wattpad romance where I make you my little sidekick or something before I confess that I've liked you all along?" Raising an eyebrow he pushed her back. "Get to it."

"B- But F- Felix-!"

"It's Master!" The male firmly spoke as he glared down at her, yanking one of her pigtails. "Come on now… time's running and we don't have all day my little toy. You better start behaving before it's too late…" Her sobs and tears satisfied him so much.

Y/n slowly got up with her head lowered, trembling as she stepped out of her shoes, slowly pulling her socks off. "I- I can't believe I am doing this in front o- of you.." She whispered while struggling to not collapse on her knees, literally shivering under his firm gaze.

"I also couldn't believe a person as rotten as you existed." Before he grabbed the hem of her dress, pulling her closer and snorting when she gasped, flinching when he leaned back again. Felix's foot trailed up her shaking leg, the top of his foot rubbing against her covered core before he grabbed the waistband of her panties with his toes, pulling them down from under the skirt. "Ahh… so little girl's mommy really doesn't put her in nappies, I see…" Before he looked back up at her face, his foot resting on the underwear between her ankles now. "Skirt off now."

The girl was wiping at her tears as she shakily undid the skirt before letting it fall, her heart pounding even harder when the cold air attacked her core before he made her pull her shirt up and off, suddenly ripping her bra off which caused her to scream.

"Tsk… you sure are jumpy and scaredy for how tough you act." The boy shook his head, feeding off her misery. "Pick that underwear up." Y/n reached for it when he finally removed his foot from the top of it, stepping out of it and picking it up, even her ears red now out of humiliation. "Put it on your head." Another sob left her as he pinched and played with her breast, loving the authority he had over her.

"Fe- M- Master…" Shaking her head, she tried to back away but Felix wasn't having it.

"What did I just fucking say?!" He snapped, towering over her when the boy stood up, making her cower down before she put the smelly article over her head, biting her lips to stop her sobs from escaping. "Such a good toy…" Felix cooed this time, rubbing her head as he pulled it down and covered her eyes with the waistband, pulling her pigtails out of the sides.

"Fuck… you look good. Just how a dumb brainless slut should look." Fishing his phone out, he smirked. "This proves how you've no problem with being brainless. You look fucking retarded but you're doing it because Master said it. That's exactly what this is about. Obedience" before he suddenly kissed her briefly, making her gasp.

"Now~ smile wide for a picture…" Before he turned the camera on and stepped back, making sure her whole body was in frame. Fuck. Felix was so fucking painfully hard. "Come on… don't be shy" he taunted when she sobbed in protest, making him switch to video instead. "Fine, then." His taunting smile dropped to a firm expression as he approached her, placing his feet on hers before he smacked her face, catching it all on camera.

"Aigooo~" he mimicked her, smacking her other cheek, uncovering her eyes but still keeping the underwear on her head. He decided that it will be a new style for her. "Look at this whore~" Y/n's flushed cheeks now received some more slaps before he placed his hand on her nose and pushed it back, chuckling loudly. "Awww such a cute little fuck piggy we have here… she loves this doesn't she?" When she continued to cry, Felix smacked her head and pulled at the girl's ponytail. "DOESN'T SHE?"

"Y- Yes, Master! Yes!"

"Good girl" pushing her nose back to look like a pig's again, the male spat at it. "Now tell Master you're thankful. Get on your knees and be good."

"T- Thank you, M- Master…" The girl cried out, slowly getting on her knees now. "Thank you s- so much…" Felix parted her legs by his foot, cutting the footage and tossing his phone on the bed before kicking her pussy, causing Y/n to jerk forward, face banging straight into his cock.

A moan left him before he grabbed both her ponytails, wrapping them around his hands. "Now I have a present for you. I bought it all a while back and have been keeping it hidden and safe for when I get a fuck piggy. And now that you're here, I'll give you it."

Yes, Felix was pissed at her and yes, he loved destroying her but he was no asshole. She still had that cute little whore face he adored.

Crouching down in front of her, he gripped her chin and kissed her lips again, ignoring her gasp and kissing her again before spitting right on her tongue. "Swallow it and wait for Master to be back. Face down and ass up. I shouldn't have to fuckin repeat myself."

Y/n trembled as she struggled to swallow his spit, bowing down on the ground, slowly raising her nude ass back up. A few moments passed with Felix bringing stuff over and near her, fumbling with things in his closet before he finally closed it and walked to her. "Aren't you lucky? Finding an owner without even looking. There's so many pets like you who have no Master… or not a good one at least, you know…" Standing behind her, Felix rubbed the lube all over the tiny and thick piggy tail assplug. "Aren't you lucky?"

The girl knew what he wanted to hear so she nervously started, having no idea what the boy was about to do. "Y- Yes, Master… v- very luc- AHHHH!" She could only lay there and weakly cry as Felix laughed loudly at her scream because he'd pushed the plug in, tapping her ass.

"Good piggy~" the male cooed and hooked a thin chain to a small loop on top of the plug, slowly making her sit up in silence, the only sounds being her weak sobs. "Just… give in… it'll hurt less that way and you'll be happier." His eyes were trained on what he was doing, the long chain extending from down her plug having nose hooks at the other end that he plugged in her nose, chuckling when her eyes widened as she located the small cage in front of her.

"Oh, yeah. That is your new crib" Felix was clearly loving this. Kissing her stretched little piggy nose, he placed the pink piggy ears on her underwear covered head, followed by a pink collar that had a small bell attached to it. "You look so beautiful…" Kissing her lips again, Felix attached weights to her nipples, making her whine out in pain as she tried to stop his hands. "Oho~" he swatted her hands away, grabbing the piggy hands and feet before putting them on her, finally folding her limbs and binding them.

"Hmmm… that's like a good filthy little fuck pig." Before he attached a leash to her collar and gulped, feeling his balls ache now due to the masterpiece he'd made, pulling at the leash to have her crawl in the cage before he closed it, chuckling at how she kept tripping. "Clumsy pig." Before he started to take pictures, taunting and humiliating her all the while.

.

When Felix was satisfied with the photoshoot, he opened the cage and walked to the bed, holding her leash and pulling her with him. "Now… the fun part." Before he tucked his aching cock out much to her horror, sitting down on the bed and pulling her in between her legs. Pumping his cock a little, the male moaned loudly as he started to piss on her face, chuckling loudly when she yelled and protested, trying to move away but only falling on her face, choking when he harshly pulled at her leash, forcefully pushing his cock in her mouth. "You better swallow that!"

Y/n started crying loudly again, wails leaving her throat as his hot piss started travelling down her throat, making her choke and gag as he loudly laughed. "What a useless piggy! Can't even be a good urinal." Before he smacked her face again, now starting to fuck her mouth fast and rough, hitting his hard tip against the back of her throat before forcefully pushing in, a trail of piss and spit hanging down her lips.

"Fuck… fuck…" Felix moaned loudly, his cock twitching inside of her and pulsating from how fucking good it felt. From her soft mouth to her tight throat, to how he could see his cock against her skin, her eyes widened when her breath supply would totally cut off from his balls getting stuffed between her lips.

"Fuck… you're no good… I'll have to train you plenty" her cries were causing shivers and vibrations up his cock as he fucked her face up and down his cock by her ponytails, kicking her pussy as he went faster and faster, his hips starting to ache from how much strength it was causing.

"What a dumb slut!" Pulling his cock out of her throat, he kicked her on her back, making her arch her back when the tail plug brushed against the floor. "I need that useless fucking pussy now. It better be worth it." Y/n felt scared and nervous for her vagina now as he warned and crawled over her now, pushing his way forcefully inside, biting down at her lip when he felt her hymen tear and lube his cock up.

"I am going to make an absolute mess out of you." He promised, his deep voice sending shivers down her sweaty body. "My mess."

.

I am sorry if it was too rough sjskso you said like bullying gone wrong-

[fearfully-fiction]

"He or you makes the other blush"-Alex Schroeder x Reader

word count:1337

Warnings: FLUFF, language!, I think that's everything!

Summary: "He or you makes the other blush"

(gif not mine! and once again random, sorry!)

You were with your boyfriend just lying on his bed watching some random show you found. Neither of you were paying much attention to it if you were being honest. You sat criss-cross in front of him just relaying your week to him, you hadn’t seen him in a few days and so he had missed some things. You worked at a school and had just gotten a job as an English teacher. It was your first time being a teacher, and you had been there for about a year now. It was one of the best parts of your life, and Alex was extremely supportive. You actually had to stop going on the road with them because of your job. They all understood and were very happy for you and super proud. They knew how much you loved working with the kids. It was an eighth-grade English class so the kids weren’t too bad. Some needed extra help and you absolutely loved to help them.

You had already made great friends with their science teacher actually. She was a sweetheart, and she really helped you out in the beginning. So you had some things to tell Alex about at the end of the week.

“So there’s this guy at work, he’s a total asshole by the way. His name is Damien and he just makes me want to bang my head against a wall whenever he talks I swear,” you said and rolled your eyes. Alex chuckled. “What did he do?” he asked and reached over to grab your hand. “So, Melissa and I were having lunch, ok. We were talking about the kids and what we were teaching them. I am, as you know, teaching them about poetry and plays and such currently. Well, I was telling Melissa about it, and telling her how excited I was about it because they seem to really be liking it so far.” you explained to your boyfriend. He nodded his head, letting you know he was listening. “Here, this bitch comes over to us. He thinks he’s better than us because he teaches a philosophy class over at the college as well as teaching here too. Can you even believe that?” you asked with a huff. “That’s stupid. How does that make him any better?” Alex asked, almost as upset as you were. “Right! It makes no sense!” you expressed. He nodded eagerly. “What did he do?” he asked, sitting up straighter ready to hear what you had to say.

“So Damien walks over and sits down right next to us, and you know me trying to be polite even though I can’t stand him. I ask how he’s doing, and how his class is. You know I try to include him, cause I’m a nice person, and so is Melissa, of course, backing me up.” you said and took a breath.

“He looks at me with the fakest smile I had ever seen in my entire life. Babe, it was horrible, I wanted to punch him.” Alex let out a laugh, “I would too,” he said.

“Instead of bringing up his class, you know what he talks about? You wanna know what he fucking talks about?” you were getting worked up. Alex takes your face in his hands and places a kiss on your forehead to calm you down a bit. “What does he talk about sweetheart?” he asked and held your hands.

“Apparently this little shit of a person has seen the show somehow and starts talking about me being on it. Ok, which may not sound too bad, but wait. Just wait until you hear what he had to say.

He looked at me directly with that fucking grin, and he says “Yeah, I thought it was pretty silly. I mean you should be old enough to know that those things aren’t real. It was probably all faked anyway,” that is exactly what this fucker had the audacity to say. He had the fucking audacity to say that shit to my face!” you exclaimed in exasperation. Alex looked at you in surprise and you could tell there was a bit of vexation floating in his eyes.

“I didn’t want to go off on him at work. I didn’t want to get in trouble, you know so I had to handle it like a civilized person. I looked at him with a smile ok, a big sweet, kind, and oh so innocent smile.

And I said, “You know, I understand where you’re coming from, we all have our different opinions and beliefs. That’s fine, you have yours and I respect that, but don’t be rude about mine. I’m not telling you that you’re wrong in what you believe I’m just saying that I don’t agree with it and so if you wouldn’t mind respecting my friends and I that would be really kind. If you think we’re faking the things we find then fine you can think that but we know we’re not. Because we were actually there when those things happened to us and they were and are very real. They have left lasting effects on all of us. So please don’t invalidate our experiences. You can think what you think, but you can’t tell us that what we felt and saw and experienced was fake and just lies that we made up. It’s really rude and hurtful. So if you would please, respect me and the people I love, with the respect that I have for your opinions and thoughts and beliefs that would be much appreciated.” that’s exactly what I said to him.” you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Alex looked at you with no more frustration and just a look of pride and love. You always stood up for them, and what you believed and you did it in the most respectful yet direct way possible to get your point across.

Alex hadn’t responded and so you looked over at him just to see a big smile on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you blushed a bit under his gaze. “You’re perfect, you’re absolutely perfect,” he said and reached over to grab you and pulled you into his lap. You let out a yelp of surprise at his actions, a bashful pink tint on your face still ever-present.

You turn to look over at him and he chuckles at the blush on your cheeks. He placed a kiss on your heated cheek, “Why are you blushing babe?” he asked and you attempted to look away from him to hide your face. “Why did you say I was perfect?” you asked softly. “Because the way you stand up for the people you love and what you believe in. You don’t disrespect people, you’re just direct. You handle it maturely and that’s one thing I love about you. You’re just perfect,” he said and you blushed even more.”Don’t say that stuff Al,” you tried to make him stop. “Why? I love to tell my beautiful girlfriend how much I appreciate her,” he said and kissed your neck softly. You felt his smile against your neck and rolled your eyes.

“You’re too much Alex, I don’t know how my heart isn’t a puddle yet,” you said softly and he chuckled. “I guess I’ll just have to work on that then huh?” he asked and kissed your neck a few more times before turning your face towards his. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your lips. Your hand ran up into his hair and his arm wrapped around your waist tightly. When you pulled away he smiled at the soft smile on your lips. “Is it working?” he asked. You chuckled and shook your head. “Not yet, I think you may have to try a bit harder,” you said with flushed cheeks and a bashful gaze.

“Then, I won’t stop until it works,” he kissed you again and smiled against your lips.

---

Taglist:

@jaziona92

@beautybyfire

@thefandomthings

@kippykasey

@kristin813

@katelynanna

@nyx2021

[adaodinson]

Little bird

Hi! So, it´s been a while since I posted a fic, I apologize for that. These past months have been… weird, to say the least, but now I´m back :)

I recently finished watching Daredevil and Punisher, so of course I have to write for Matt and Frank. I´ve had this idea stuck in my head for a while so here it is, I hope you guys like it. And yes, I recommend all the songs and artists that I mention in here.

Summary: An interest thing about you gets Matt´s attention enough to want to know more about you, but also to be nervous to actually do so.

Warnings: Nothing, I think, just mentions of pain but it´s muscular so… and well, English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.

Relationship: Matt Murdock x gender neutral!reader

You knew moving into a new city (especially one like New York) would be tiring, you knew it would take a lot of mental and physical effort, but this was ridiculous. You had been trying to carry that stupid table upstairs and were halfway when you felt your back couldn´t take it anymore, the table wasn´t big or anything, but it was quite heavy. You had been carrying things inside all afternoon, so it made sense for you to be this tired. You had started off at a reasonable hour, when the sunlight invaded the windows and spread to all corners; now, the only source of light were the weak lightbulbs that hung from the ceiling, and it was getting harder and harder to focus on where to place your next step not only due to your aching legs and back, or the poor illumination, you also started to feel the rush of the other residents getting home from work.

You had only seen your neighbor twice: the day you arrived to take a look at the apartment before buying it, and the one time it took you a while to find your keys and open your door so you bumped into each other on the hallway. You knew his name was Matt, and he knew your name as well, he also knew where you came from, but that was about it. He seemed like a nice person, he was definitely handsome, but there was something about him that you couldn´t quite place your finger on that made him… intriguing.

You had only been living there for about a week, and had had no time to rest or even think for more than five minutes, but what you missed the most was taking your singing classes, or at least getting to seat down while playing games on your phone and sing along to your playlist. Singing was one of your passions, you weren´t amazing at it, but decent enough. You sang all the time: while cooking, while showering, while working, all the time. It made you happy, helped you relax, you just loved it.

As you carried your table through the final stair block, your mind drifted to the next song you would want to practice with your teacher (she was from the same place as you were, and you decided to keep taking classes with her through Skype or FaceTime). It could be “Without you” by Air Supply, ooor Wherever you go by Lola Lennox. You were so immersed in your thinking you didn´t realize you had stopped moving, or that Matt was standing beside you, waiting for you to keep walking.

He was between amused and confused, he could feel in your heartbeat you were happy but tired, he could sense you weren´t moving and also the fact that you were carrying something. He thought you might be resting a bit, but you were only three steps away from the top so that wasn´t it. He cleared his throat in order to make you aware of his presence, and that simple gesture took you out of your thoughts like a lightning, so suddenly that you almost fell on your back. Good thing you didn´t.

-Matt, hi! I´m sorry! I´m sorry! Wait a second- You said as you hurried to walk upstairs, leave the table in front of your door and go back to him. He giggled softly, it was the cutest sound you had ever heard.

-Again, I´m sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. Here, I left the table I was carrying in the hallway so let me help you get to your door- You said as you placed your arm near him for him to notice it and grab it. He did so.

-Thank you Y/N, and you don´t have to worry or apologize, we all get lost in thought sometimes- He said as you led him to his apartment avoiding your table.

-Yeah, I guess we do-.

You got to his door. He opened it, said goodnight kindly and walked inside. Normally you would have wanted him to stay outside with you and talk for a while, but it was not hard to see he was just as tired as you were. You headed inside your own apartment and settled the table in it´s place. You gazed around the room feeling proud that you had managed to put everything inside. For all the bigger things of course you had had help, but the rest were up to you.

You sighed and felt all your body parts urging you to drop to the floor and sleep, you could feel your arms and legs trembling and that familiar knot in your muscles after making such efforts. You headed straight for the bathroom, needing a shower more that anything. In the past few days, you had only showered for the sake of being clean, but not to actually enjoy it. You had to rush and hurry, but now, you took your time to choose the songs you wanted to listen to, humped in and sang your heart out.

The walls of the apartments were thick, so it was really hard to hear what was going on in other rooms, but for Matt this wasn´t a problem. He was reading in his couch when he heard a small hint of a familiar song: “Rock DJ” by Robbie Williams. He made an effort to hear it more clearly, and that´s when he reached it. He distinguished your voice singing along to the song. It wasn´t the best voice he had ever heard, or the most tuned, but it was his new favorite one, it definitely was beautiful. There was something about your passion, your heart being poured into each word you sang that filled his ears like the strong smell of a chocolate cake fills your nose. He couldn´t get enough of it. Even when you sang out of tune, when you ran out of breath, when you failed at singing a difficult note. Also when your breath was just enough, when you hit a hard note like a baseball player hits the ball. All the time, no matter what you were singing or how you were singing it, he found it impossible to focus on anything else.

It became his “ritual”. You had started taking your classes again, so when he learned the time and day you took them, he would try to get home in time to hear you. Queen, Air Supply, Pink, Erasure, Rick Astley, Måneskin and Adam Lambert were the artists and bands that you sang the most, and through you he had found new songs that he adored and re-found old songs that he considered golden. Many times he walked over to the door, ready to compliment your singing after you finished a class, but, what would he say? That your voice had become his favorite sound? How would he explain how he could hear you so clearly? He just couldn´t. Every time he felt ready, with the right words at the tip of his tongue and ready to escape, doubt filled his mind: What if you found him creepy? What if you don´t want to be complimented? What if he said something stupid?

Of course, thinking that you wouldn´t enjoy hearing compliments on your singing was a stupid thought on it´s own. You enjoyed singing so much, but you were quite insecure about it as well. It was really hard for you to sing in front of other people, especially for the first time, and every time anyone complimented your singing, not only did you remember that person forever, but also it always made your day. Oh, but hearing a compliment from Matt, that idea sounded so perfect it didn´t even cross your mind. The gorgeous, nice and mysterious guy from across the hall complimenting you… not even in your daydreams. But just like they say, there is a first time for everything.

Matt was so immersed in the conversation he was having with Foggy, he didn´t stop to hear your heartbeat, to know if you were home. You were.

-I´m telling you, Foggy. It´s just magnificent, the passion and heart they pour into their singing, it´s beautiful. And now I know their class is at 8 every Wednesday, so when I get to be at home at that time it just makes the rest of my week- Foggy had rarely seen his friend this passionate about something, and he was really happy for him, but he wondered why he didn´t try to get to know you. If he wanted to find a good reason for him to hear your singing with you knowing he was, why didn´t he just become friends with you? All his questions were answered when you opened your door with the brightest smile Foggy had seen in a long time.

-Do you really think that, Matt?- you asked almost shyly. Matt froze for a second and then turned around slowly to face you. After seeing that tiny interaction, it was more than clear to Foggy that his friend wasn´t only interested in your voice, he was interested in you.

-Well, yeah, I mean, it´s always very pleasant to hear you- he said with a shy smile.

You were so happy you didn´t even stop to think before embracing the man in a tight hug. You could feel tears ready to exit your eyes and fill your cheeks, but you held them back. He hesitated before returning the hug. You both felt as if your missing puzzle piece was being taken away from you when you parted.

-You have no idea how much it means for me to hear that, especially from you- you couldn´t control that last part.

-Well, hi. I´m Foggy, and I was just leaving- Foggy said happily as he turned around ready to leave.

-No wait! I´m sorry, I´m Y/N. You don´t have to go, I just…-

-Nice to meet you Y/N! And don´t you worry, I´ll get to talk to Matt tomorrow at work, tonight you two should go out for dinner- Foggy answered with a smirk.

-Did you just ask them out FOR me?- Matt said, trying to sound offended.

-Well, someone had to do it- he said with a wink and left.

-Mmmm, I heard about a great Chinese place a few blocks away, if you are up for what your friend proposed- You said trying to measure Matt´s reaction.

-I love Chinese, let´s go, little bird- Matt said as he extended his arm for you to grab. Both of you with the biggest smiles either of you had had for a while, including the one you had when you heard his compliments. Oh, and the smiles would go on with you two, that´s for sure.

[pillow-anime-talk]

his talented baby. {pt.1}

synopsis: You as a person with a huge (and hidden) talent, and also a girl who really surprises your boyfriend.

# tags: scenarios; current relationships; romance; fluff; some PDA; sfw

includes: female reader ft. ken kaneki & nishiki nishio {tokyo ghoul} + yuuma isogai & itona horibe {assclass}

— KEN (ft. singing)

Your closest friends invited you to a popular karaoke bar on one Friday night to celebrate a successfully passed semester in college. Of course, you couldn’t forget about your lovely boyfriend, who was at the same university, but in a different field (i.e. Japanese literature) and always supported you with all his might, knowing how much you want to do your dream job in the future.

So you went to the meeting together, and on the way to the designated place you talked all the time about what the next year of study would bring you. As soon as you reached the room where your three closest besties and one male friend were waiting for you, you both greeted them warmly, immediately taking off your thick coats and taking your seats on a soft, leather couch next to a table filled with tasty-looking snacks and colorful drinks.

Long minutes of conversations between the six of you resulted in drunk plenty of alcohol and blushes on the faces. After drinking, you always got more talkative and more self-confident, so you suggested using the TV and the karaoke machine. Of course, you first offered your friends and Ken to sing something, but they all declined, saying that you should start as an initiator. One of the girls, blonde-haired Minami, smiled at you with a sparkle in her pretty golden eyes, adding that you are the best in this and you should show how to do it correctly. You chuckled in response, waving your hand at her to dismiss compliment.

Kaneki, on the other hand, frowned as he looked at the boy who was sitting on his right.

“... Oh, you don’t know? Y/N-san hasn’t yet praised herself to you that she has a wonderful voice? Huh, huh.” The black-haired boy shook his head, reaching for the glass filled with blue something again. “Hmmm, well. Normally Y/N’s very shy, but she always sings at trips when she’s drunk.” He chuckled while you picked one of your favorite songs in the meantime. So everyone looked at your standing figure, then heard the characteristic sounds from one of Selena Gomez’s songs coming from the gray speakers.

“My dear, I dedicate it to you~!” You looked with joy on your face towards the eighteen-year-old, giving him a quick wink, and then you started your little performance with ‘Love you like a love song’ from the above-mentioned artist.

Your friends didn’t seem surprised and instead started clapping to the beat of the music... but Ken’s eyes widened and he spat out his high-percentage drink, not knowing how to react to the fact that for nine, long months of your relationship, you concealed the fact that you could sing so well and so beautifully. Your voice was perfect for the song that was playing now, and you seemed to be having a great time – there was a huge smile on your lips, your eyelids were slightly closed and your hand was over your heart. If it weren’t for the fact that you were at a karaoke bar, everyone would definitely think you are playing a concert on the biggest stage in Tokyo city.

After the song was over, another girl got up to present a completely different choice, and you handed her the dark microphone, bowing in the process.

Kaneki still seemed speechless and as soon as you sat down next to him, he immediately kissed you on the warm forehead, asking you to sing more to him, especially when you two are going to be alone, because he probably fell in love with you once again and just wanted to experience that love every day thereafter.

— NISHIKI (ft. ballet)

Nishiki, as a pharmacy student, didn’t have much time for extra-curricular activities or unnecessary meetings; in addition, the fact that he was a bloodthirsty ghoul and had to watch over himself made it difficult for him to function normally in the life of Kamii University. However, the brown-haired man always found time for you, for his beloved girlfriend.

You had been dating for over three, long years, and the man definitely couldn’t imagine his own life without you by his side. You knew each other better than anyone else in this world, but sometimes some tiny things of your ordinary day eluded Nishio; of course you understood it perfectly and you weren’t angry or disappointed with him. After all, he had to protect himself, you, take care of his specific menu, be vigilant at every step, and additionally he had to pretend to be the perfect student, senpai (or kouhai) and friend of other people.

So you weren’t surprised when one day you handed him a silverish ticket for probably the most important show of your life and he just looked at you in wonderment. At the beginning, the twenty-year-old asked if it was a performance related to singing or playing an instrument due to the fact that the colorful paper didn’t tell him too much, but you just smirked as you tweaked the unruly, soft hair on his head.

“Hmm. If you don’t remember what I do in my free time, it’s even better, I guess. Come and see it for yourself, honey. I think that thanks to this you will even calm down a little and rest due to the recent weeks.” You announced in a light tone of voice, and the young man sighed under his breath.

“So... I’ll find out in three days, am I right?” He made sure by correcting his glasses and you nodded, then grabbing his rough hand and kissing his cool cheek. A short while later you suggested going to your apartment and catching up on a few episodes of your favorite series that you started quite recently.

The anticipation of your important day passed very quickly and on Saturday, at 6 p.m., when everyone took their seats (with your boyfriend sitting on one of the balconies with the best view of the stage), delicate music was played in the theater, which made everyone shiver on the whole body. Until then, the brown-eyed boy somewhere in the back of his head had the impression that it was a theater performance or an opera, but when he saw your person appear on stage in a beautifully tailored dress and ballet shoes, all the questions that flickered in his mind disappeared in literally one second.

‘Well, yeah. I remember now. She always told me about ballet classes and new shoes.’ A huge, proud smirk came on his pale face and you glanced out of the corner of your eye towards his VIP seat.

Though your expression was cold and composed, you felt an enormous heat in your small heart as the man waved at you, showing two thumbs up. His lips moved even slightly, and although Nishiki tried to hide it, you knew perfectly well that the pink blush and mute ‘I love you’ was sincere and even better than being able to play Odetta, the White Swan, in a ballet spectacle.

— YUUMA (ft. songwriting and guitar playing)

Christmas at school was never what you enjoyed; maybe due to the fact that before, your classmates on main campus were quite specific and you definitely didn’t fit with their strange ‘ideals’. It was only in the class E that you felt that you could find real friends or people who would share your ideas.

But, hmm. Still, you seemed to stand out from the rest of the girls in the class who had more... down-to-earth hobbies or characters than you; Okuda liked chemistry and was really excellent at it, Kirara loved reading, Rio was the best at English and had a great sense of fashion, and Toka was pretty good at cooking. Contrary to them, you preferred to... do more ‘intimate’ things. Writing short poems filled your heart with peace and prevented you from being as critical of yourself as usual. And when you wrote the lyrics of the songs, made notes or melodies to them and sang quietly, you could feel like a real artist that everyone wanted to admire and imitate.

Therefore, when your first and last class holidays with the rest of the 3-E students were fast approaching, Koro-sensei was the one who asked you for a short talk. You weren’t sure what this was about, but moments later your uncertainties were dispelled.

“Y/N-san, I think you mistook your notebooks today and instead of giving me your homework, you gave to me... this.” He said in his as always happy voice, and seeing the black notebook in which you always wrote songs and notes, you blushed all over your face, apologizing profusely for the mistake. “Huh? But this is no mistake, my dear. If it weren’t for this, I would never even think that we have such a talented soul in Class 3-E. So would you like to perform in front of the rest of the students and teachers during the holidays?” The easy question made you widen your eyes and sighed.

“I-I’ve never played in front of anyone, so...” You admitted shyly, and the tall, yellow octopus just chuckled.

“I’m pretty sure they will love it. We can practice together.”

Well, you couldn’t refuse (especially when Koro-sensei offered to bring your favorite, foreign snacks...) and on class Christmas day you showed up with your acoustic guitar and a notebook full of chords and songs. Everyone was surprised and curious at how well you play guitar. After all, you’ve never even mentioned that you can play any instrument before. On the other hand, the class representative, and your boyfriend at the same time, immediately came up to you, asking if you were really okay; better than anyone else, Isogai knew that you didn’t like too much attention and big crowds. But you reassured him it was okay and promised your teacher you would do it, so you smiled at him and then took your seat under the blackboard with a wooden guitar on your lap.

The song you chose for the day was a song you wrote quite recently. It had a little bit of magic, and at the same moment it seemed very romantic and delicate. Even Karma seemed delighted with your beautiful play and soft voice that echoed from time to time between the walls of huge classroom.

At the end of the song, you decided to raise your gaze and simultaneously look at your all friends, three teachers and other half; everyone was really happy and positively speechless. So you gave Yuuma a slight wink, making him blush sweetly.

The young teenager definitely hoped you would show him more of your songs someday, not necessarily the happy Christmas carols Kaede and Ritsu asked for.

— ITONA (ft. dancing)

“... You never mentioned that you can dance.” He admitted softly, and you squeezed his smooth hand tighter.

“So... I mention it right now. It’s not a big deal, baby. I just ... like it and enjoy it a lot.” You giggled as you correcting the black sports bag over your shoulder, then opened the heavy door to the training room, immediately jumping up at the sound of loud squeals and greetings from your closest friends. “Guys, this is Itona Horibe, my boyfriend that I told to you before! Love, it’s Aki-chan, Yui-chan, Kazuya-kun, Saburo-kun, and our cameraman and editor Ryuu senpai. Most often, the five of us cooperate with each other when it comes to dance in groups of five people. And... today we are going to cover a song so I hope you’ll like it. I’ll go change and you all, please, don’t scare my boyfriend and give him something to drink!”

As a group leader, you often came up with choreographies and warm-ups for yourself and others. So, it couldn’t be otherwise this time. For the last week and a half you have been practicing the choreo you came up with and today you were supposed to record material for the video on your quite popular YouTube account. You were extremely excited, not only with the new content, but most of all with the fact that your beloved one would be able to watch it live and evaluate your skills that have been refined over the years. So as soon as you got back to the teens waiting for you, you kissed the light-blue-haired quickly on the right cheek and told him that he could sit against the wall, close to the table full of snacks and the contact for charging the phone.

Then you talked with everyone for a while, doing a short warm-up and reminding the cameraman about how to move the cam. A few short minutes later, you lined up in the middle of a huge white room with Ryuu in front of you. You knelt down in the center, of course, gently moving your shoulders to calm your rapidly pounding heart and heavy breathing, and when a song by Ariana Grande started playing all over the bright room, you all looked at the already activated camera, shaking your heads and then you got up from the wooden floor.

Itona... was speechless. He has never seen people dancing before, he has never even been interested in others, only you and what you like. Today he got to know your little passion, which turned out to be a breathtaking talent, and the boy wondered if you could do anything else; are you good at one specific dance genre or are you able to move your body in a completely different rhythm than he currently saw?

From Koro-sensei’s history lessons, when you two were in junior high, the eighteen-year-old remembered perfectly well that there is also classical dance, tango and breakdance. So could you also do that? He had to ask you about it later.

But now his curious gaze was focused on you and your huge, radiant smile, and the sound of feet hitting the ground. He also looked at your legs, tiny hands, stomach, and hair, while he wondered if he might learn to dance too, to be even closer to you and your hobby. After all, you looked so beautiful and so joyful... He wanted to share these emotions.

[paterson-blue]

Honey You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 1

(Gif credit: @driverdelight )

Part 1: The Beginning

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: It’s gotta be bad luck to meet the love of yer life at a funeral, right? Clyde’s just askin' for a friend.

Word Count: 3,625

Warnings: fluff, awkward plot set-up, butchering of the southern accent, brief mention of cancer & distant side character death (happens off screen), siblings that won't leave well enough alone, original female character— let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: This story contains an original female character. I try to make my OC's fairly neutral in description so everyone can enjoy them; I always accept pointers on how to do this better. This is my first attempt at writing in two years, after some of that good ole' depression-induced writer's block. So if you're here simply to make fun of my sorry writing, I completely understand. Have fun!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

Clyde hates funerals. He really, really hates them. He’s attended far too many in his relatively short time on earth, most for buddies that were far too young to die. Hell, his family had a funeral all planned out for him before he somehow pulled through in the hospital; right as rain—all but one hand.

But he knows he can’t miss this one, so he forces himself to get dressed as nice as he can: an old pair of black slacks that were a little too short, a black dress shirt, and a grey tie of Jimmy’s. His dress shoes were old and scuffed but he figures no one will be looking at his feet. He just wants to get in, show his respects, and get out.

Mr. Stephens had been his high school English teacher two years in a row. He’s the one that got Clyde into reading, who always told Clyde he didn’t need to be an athlete to be great. Mr. Stephens made Clyde proud of himself—had taught Clyde lessons he still carried with him to this day.

He hadn’t even been 65 when the cancer took him. Clyde didn’t think it was fair, but it never is.

Jimmy drives him to the little Baptist church across town and Clyde is pleased to see the parking lot full. Mr. Stephens had been a good man; he deserved the turn-out. There are a couple people milling out front, finishing their last cigarettes before the service starts; Clyde recognizes a couple of them from his high school class.

He takes the front steps two at a time, hunching his shoulders over as he enters the building in an attempt to look smaller. The rows of pews are mostly full, especially nearer to the front. Clyde takes a hasty seat in the back, beside little old Mrs. Hastings, who gives him a warm smile. Clyde can only hope she doesn’t rope him into one of her two-hour-long conversations after the service.

The buzz in the room dies down around ten, the stragglers finding a seat or leaning against the back wall, and the preacher appears out of nowhere. Clyde listens to the man’s booming voice—so out of place at such a somber event—talk about what a good man Mr. Stephens was, and how no one should mourn since he was now in Heaven with his wife. Clyde wasn’t exactly the religious type, but he figures it’s a nice sentiment.

The preacher says the next of kin will now speak, and Clyde’s brows furrow in confusion. He can’t remember any sort of family; the Stephens hadn’t had any kids as far as he knew. Though Clyde guesses he hadn’t exactly been the most in-tune with the family’s business over the years—really just what he’d seen in passing.

A young woman stands and makes her way to the front, only increasing Clyde’s curiosity. She was far too young to be a daughter. A granddaughter, perhaps? She seemed too old for that. Clyde chews on the inside of his cheek, listening to the woman speak. He doesn’t like hearing her voice shake with sorrow; it makes his stomach knot up.

She doesn’t speak for very long. Mostly thanks people for coming, saying her Uncle—oh, she’s a niece, then—would be so happy to see how much he was loved. Clyde’s eyes prickle a little at that. It was all anybody wanted, right? To be loved. He clears his throat as quiet as he can, ducking his head until the water dissipates from his eyes. There’s a prayer, and a hymn, and then the service is over with.

_____________________________

“Clyde! Clyde Logan!”

Clyde pauses at the bottom of the steps, turning around at the unfamiliar voice calling his name. He’s surprised to see the niece—Juniper—speed-walking towards him, her kitten heels clicking on the floor. For a moment he wonders what he’s done, what sort of funeral faux-pas he’s committed, but then she smiles at him. It makes his heart flutter in his chest, an unexpected feeling. She comes to a stop in front of him, still on the last step, not quite in the parking lot.

“Yes ma’am?”

He says politely, curious eyes roaming over her. Juniper is still smiling, looking up at him.

“I’m glad I caught you. I’ve got something for ya.”

She holds out her hand, and it takes Clyde a moment to realize she’s handing him a fifty-dollar bill. He blinks, his brain trying to compute what it meant.

“... Ma’am, I don’t…”

She huffs out a laugh, though Clyde can tell it’s not directed at him, so he doesn’t feel self-conscious about not understanding. Juniper ducks her head as she rubs absently at her collarbone, looking sheepish.

“I figured you wouldn’t remember me. We uh…”

She trails off, mouth doing a funny thing. Clyde suddenly panics, wracking his brain. They what? Did they sleep together? But he would remember, of course he would remember. And she was so young, if they’d been together years ago it would be… no, that couldn’t be it. Juniper isn’t privy to Clyde’s mental gymnastics; he has to focus all his attention on listening to her when she speaks again.

“When I was fifteen, I took my uncle’s car out for a joyride. I figured I wouldn’t get caught, because—well, I was fifteen, and stupid. Drove it fast on a dirt road and a rock flew up and cracked the windshield. I took it to the auto shop, hysterical, knowing my life would be damn near over if my uncle saw the damage.”

Clyde’s heart rate gradually slows; her story was starting to sound vaguely familiar.

“—You were working that afternoon. I gave you all the money I had, my allowance, babysitting money, everything, and still came up fifty dollars short. You paid it. You didn’t have to, you didn’t know me, and I sure deserved getting in trouble for stealing the car. But you saved my ass.”

Juniper lets out a laugh, shaking her head. It makes Clyde’s chest feel all warm. He remembers now, her words bringing forth a fuzzy picture in his head.

He’d been a 24-year-old community college drop-out—more from lack’a tryin’ than lack’a smarts, he now knew—working his last month before basic training. She’d been a gal who was way too young to have a nose piercing, had eyeliner streaming all down her cheeks when she’d come into the shop. He’d felt bad for her, wanted to help. He’d sideswiped his daddy’s truck when he was fourteen and got his hide tore up for it. Fifty bucks was nothin’, really, ‘specially when he was about to leave town. He hadn’t thought he would make such an impression.

“—I always meant to pay you back but then you left for basic, and eventually I left for college, and I just never saw you again. So here— “

She holds the bill out to him again. He looks from her, to it, to her again; can feel a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yer… paying me back from eleven years ago?”

“Well, better late than never.”

Clyde doesn’t know what comes over him. He bursts into laughter, his whole face crinkling up. It’s a loud belly laugh, just the abrupt absurdity of the situation getting to him. Juniper starts laughing with him, her hand landing over her mouth to try to muffle herself. It makes Clyde laugh even more and there they were, strangers yet not, dying laughing out in front of a funeral.

The doors of the church swing open, and Mrs. Hastings emerges with two other women, having taken them hostage with her conversation. The group eyes the laughing pair, and it makes Clyde quiet, placing one big paw over his own mouth in an attempt to be more polite. Juniper giggles, but starts clearing her throat, trying to hush herself. They finally get themselves under control, but don’t dare speak for fear of setting off another fit; all they can do is look mischievously at one another, eyes sparkling. Clyde can’t remember the last time he laughed like this with someone who wasn’t Jimmy or Mellie.

Eventually, Juniper breaks the silence, apparently finding more faith in herself than Clyde had in his own ability not to lose it again.

“I mean it. Take it.”

She gestures with the banknote. It’s crisp, despite having been held in her palm. Clyde slowly drops his hand; shakes his head.

“I can’t take yer money.”

“You can and you will, Clyde Logan.”

Juniper gives him a look, and he finds himself taking the bill from her fingers. His hand dwarfs hers; he has the odd thought that if he held it, it would break. She looks pleased; gives him a victorious grin.

“Good. My uncle would probably haunt me if I never paid you back.”

Clyde barks out another gleeful laugh, surprised at her comment. She starts to speak again, but then the church door is opening, the preacher sticking his head out. He asks for her, and Juniper gives Clyde one last look.

“Save it for a rainy day.”

She points at the bill, now crumpled up in his palm, then she’s up the steps and into the church before Clyde can even think of a response.

_____________________________

“Now, tell me why I thought this was a diner.”

Clyde turns from his place at Duck Tape’s front door—keys in hand to start settin’ up for opening hours—to look towards the voice behind him. There was Juniper, leaning against a shiny corolla and giving him a megawatt smile. Clyde can’t help but smile back, surprised but happy to see her. It’s been almost a week since the funeral, he was sure she’d be gone by now.

“Sorry to disappoint, ma’am.”

Juniper scoffs, shaking her head.

“You better stop calling me “ma’am.” And I don’t think you could ever disappoint me, Clyde Logan.”

He can feel his cheeks pinkening up at her words, though he isn’t exactly sure why. So, he nods, and hopes she can’t see his blush from so far away.

“Alright. Juniper, then.”

She nods at him; he nods back.

“This used to be the Campbell’s diner. They got bored with it and turned it into a bar, and then they realized they just hated runnin’ a business.”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“—I was their best worker. They trained me as a manager and then one day just up and gave me the place. Said they wanted it to go to someone who loved it.”

Clyde still remembers the swirl of emotions he’d felt that day—the disbelief mixed with gratitude mixed with hope like no other. He’d floundered for a while after coming back, with his hand and PTSD and no sense of direction. The bar gave him that, and suddenly it was his. Mr. Campbell had gruffly told Clyde that the place was a curse; that it “sucked out your soul and your money.” Clyde thinks it’s the one thing his family curse hasn’t touched.

“... You can come in, if y’like. We ain’t open yet but I don’t mind. I’ll fix ya up a drink and a sandwich.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Ya can and ya will.”

He grins at her, echoing her past words, and she laughs.

“Alright, twist my arm why dontcha.”

She moves to grab her purse from her car, and Clyde gets a view of the curve of her ass in her denim shorts. He turns back to the door quickly, fumbling to unlock it. Dammit, why couldn’t he behave himself? She was sweet, and charming, and beautiful, and—and she didn’t deserve being gawked at by him.

You’re not that type’a guy, Clyde, he chastises himself in his head.

He holds the door open for her and she thanks him as she walks in, looking around curiously. Clyde is suddenly nervous, though he’s unsure why. He was proud of Duck Tape, of what he’d done to it and how he ran it. Maybe it was a little old fashioned, but he never had complaints. So why, now, was he anxious to see what she—a relative stranger—thought?

“You c’n, uh—sit at the bar, I’ll be right back. Just gonna get some stuff.”

Juniper nods; she’s still looking around when he escapes into the back. The kitchen was small, barely used; Duck Tape didn’t exactly have food, per se. Sometimes Pete, one of the barbacks, would make a special batch of little appetizers for people, but mostly it was pretzels and peanuts. Clyde’s considered adding a permanent food menu, but he’s still got some calculatin’ to do on if he can afford it. Some months the bar was scraping by as it was, even with his regular VA disability checks, and it’s not like the regulars came to eat.

Still, the pantry was regularly stocked with sandwich fixings for the staff, and that’s what Clyde collects—bread, turkey, lettuce, tomato, pickle. He’s just coming out of the kitchen when music starts up, Patsy Cline’s crooning filling the empty bar. Juniper looks at him from where she was standing in front of the jukebox, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Sorry, I didn’t think about how loud it would be with no people in here.”

Clyde chuckles, shakes his head.

“S’alright. There’s a little knob on the side for the volume.”

Juniper turns it down before coming to join him at the bar top. She sits on a stool across from him, watching him start making them both a sandwich. It’s quiet as he works, but it’s not uncomfortable. Clyde finds that he enjoys her presence; likes her there in his space. It’s odd—usually he values his time alone opening up the bar. He likes the routine of setting up, making sure everything is stocked and clean; likes the silence and the peace it brings him. Yet he’d invited her into his sanctuary, and somehow, she fit.

“I thought y’would’ve gone back home by now. Heard you were out West.”

Clyde speaks up as he serves her the sandwich he’s made, grabbing them each a cold glass of water. He tries to busy himself; tries to act like he’s not wholly invested in her sticking around. Heard you were out West, he’d said. Heard. Like it was happenstance, like someone said it to him in passing; like he hadn’t been in the salon just two days ago, purposely eavesdroppin’ on the Purple Lady’s gossip. Juniper hums around a mouthful of food, breaking him out of his guilty thoughts.

“Yeah, up in Portland. I thought I’d be back by now too, t’be honest. Not that I don’t like being here! It’s just not what I had planned. But Uncle Roy left me the bed & breakfast, and I need to get things sorted to make sure it’s taken care of. I don’t want to leave it for just anyone to run.”

Clyde nods, leaning against the counter as he eats. After Mr. Stephens left teaching, he and his wife had turned their large home into a two-room bed & breakfast. It was surprisingly popular with both locals and travelers who wanted a “small town stay” while passing through. He hadn’t thought about what would happen to the place now that the Stephens’ were gone. Juniper sips at her water before speaking again.

“I’ve been able to convince my job to let me work remotely for now, but that won’t last forever.”

She sighs, scrunching up her face; Clyde thinks it’s cute.

“Whaddaya do for work, if ya don’t mind me askin’?”

Juniper huffs, a rueful smile on her lips. She has another bite of sandwich, taking her time to answer.

“I’m an in-house attorney for an energy corporation out there.”

“Yer a lawyer?”

Clyde’s brows arch plumb to the ceiling as he stares at her. He spares a thought to the bundles of heist money he had stowed away in a safe in the back of his closet, right next to his daddy’s old pistol. Lawyer’s not the same as a cop, he tells himself. Juniper’s oblivious to his plight; she takes his surprise in another way.

“What? Don’t I look like one?”

She grins, gesturing to her lacy shirt and jean cut-offs. Clyde almost apologizes, but her laugh is open and carefree; he hadn’t insulted her. She continues speaking, shifting on the barstool.

“It’s not what I wanted to do with my degree. I wanna work for a non-profit, maybe a defense fund. I have a specialization in human rights law, but— “

She sighs, a little frown appearing on her face. Clyde has the sudden urge to reach out, to use his thumb to massage the furrow between her brows until she’s smiling again.

“—but it doesn’t pay the bills. Especially not Portland bills. And I was lucky to get the corporate internship as it was, so when it turned into a job, I just thought hey, I’ll gain some experience, save some money, and then find where I really want to work once I’ve earned my keep. But I dunno, recently things just feel so…”

She trails off, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. It’s obvious she has more to say, so Clyde waits patiently as he eats. It was somethin’ he was good at: waiting patiently.

“I mean I don’t want to complain. It’s a good job, and someone has to do it. I’m—I mean, I do good work. It’s just not what I want to do.”

She stops suddenly, letting out a soft laugh before looking up at him, a sheepish look on her face.

“Sorry. Here we are, basically strangers, and I’m unloading all my problems onto you.”

If it were anyone else Clyde would brush it off in the most casual way possible. Say oh, I’m’a bartender, it comes with the territory. Make it easier for both of them to distance themselves. But he doesn’t. Instead, he says:

“I don’t mind. I’m always here to listen.”

When Juniper looks at him, he swears she’s looking straight into his soul, like she knows his every thought, every feeling, every shudderin’ beat of his heart. There’s a pause, and then she gives him a smile.

“I guess I’m making a bit of a habit of unloading my problems onto you, huh? First the windshield, now this.”

And just like that, the spell is broken. But instead of it being jarring, it’s a smooth, seamless transition. That moment was over, but there was a reassurance in the air: there would be many more moments to come.

_____________________________

Days turn into a week; one week turns into three, and then four. Juniper sticks around, still trying to work things out with the bed & breakfast. That afternoon at the bar turns into a habit, and Clyde finds himself offerin’ to be the one to open the bar on days he doesn’t even work. He wants to spend as much time with her as he can, and these not-a-date lunch-dates were the perfect excuse.

They were friends; Clyde felt confident enough to say that. It was probably the quickest friend he’d ever made, and he knew that was likely all thanks to her. It’s not that she was extremely outgoing or anything; they just seemed to click in a way he rarely did with anyone. Some days when they had lunch together it was silent, him cleaning and her working on her computer. Quiet but comfortable, together. They didn’t have to speak, didn’t have to anxiously fill the space between them with words. They could just be.

Jimmy barges in one day, having driven up early from Lynchburg and apparently decidin’ not to tell Clyde of his plans. The older Logan breaks the peaceful silence of the bar, shoving the door open and bitching ‘bout traffic. Juniper jumps just about a foot off the barstool she was perched on, and even normally-stoic Clyde startles. The pair look wide-eyed at the intruder, and then Clyde is clearing his throat, moving away from where he’d been leaning into Juniper’s space over the bar top.

A slow grin spreads across Jimmy’s face, lookin’ like the cat that caught the canary, and Clyde knows he’s in big trouble.

Mellie just so happens to come into the bar the next day, askin’ Clyde if he’s seen her purple sparkly clippers when they both know he hasn’t. He tries to tell her with his eyes to get the hell out, but he knows it’s a lost cause—growin’ up with Mellie, she never got out of your room if she knew it was buggin’ ya.

As soon as she finally—finally—leaves (only after she goes out of her way to introduce herself to Juniper, telling her to come by the salon anytime she needs anything), Clyde gets a little ping on his phone.

Then another.

And another.

And another until he’s huffing, scrollin’ through and punching the mute chat button with one of his giant fingers.

Juniper twirls back and forth on her barstool, her pretty summer dress dancing around her legs. She’s watching him with an amused little smile.

“Your siblings are nice.”

She says eventually; she says knowingly. It makes him flush pink; makes him curse the little messages he knows are building up on his phone.

Ask her out.

Ask her out.

Ask her out.

[archetypal-archivist]

Hermitcraft x Miraculous Brain Rot

@petrichormeraki I blame you for this. 

Okay, so. The hermits are an interesting crew of people, and dropping them into Paris willy-nilly is a bit of a no go. So before there get to be fun power ups and cool shenanigans, there needs to be some roles and day jobs and lives outside of the Miraculi.

ROLES

-Keralis is a city planner, in charge of repair and maintenance of city's bridges. He lives in the same complex as Chloe and her dad do. He’s very proud of one particularly intricate number over the Seine, and he sometimes stops by a local cafe nearby just to stare at his baby and sketch new bridge designs.

-Joe Hills is an English teacher at the local high school where the teen heroes go, and is just as eldritch as ever. He moved to Paris after a bad break-up with his ex and is now living with his long time pen pal, Cleo. He sometimes plays up his Southern accent to screw with his students, as French in a Southern accent is truly cursed.

-Cleo is the local librarian at the same high school as Joe, and was actually the one who helped him get a job. This may or may not have involved some mild threatening of bodily harm and/or releasing copies of The Anarchist's Cookbook onto the shelves for students to find. She has been friends with Joe for a very, very long time and she is DETERMINED that her best friend have as lovely a time in France as possible- by any means necessary.

-Hypno is the principal that got threatened. Is 100% more scared of the students than he is Cleo, and with good reason. Rides a bicycle to school because he was tired of his car getting keyed. Overall a pretty chill dude, spends most of his day hiding in his office and avoiding the chaos, often to the point of not noticing the more dramatic incidents. In his defense, he has good reason to not like wandering the halls- he might encounter the children there, and no one wants that. (Except Etho. Etho very much wants that.)

-Welsknight is the almighty janitor at the local high school, and his days are usually pretty boring and filled with menial drudgery. He comes from a well-to-do family and his older brother, Helsknight, dotes on him so long as he actually goes and plays along with the family image and rules. Welsknight, who has never cared much for politics and runs a bit closer to a socialist than his family would like, generally tries to ignore that entire side of his life. He’s quite content with being a janitor- really. Honest.

-TFC is the keeper of the Miraculi, of course. Kindly old man, bit of a mentor figure, secretly tough as nails and did his fair share of crime fighting back in his day. He also makes a darn good back alley surgeon, which stems back to his MASH unit days, not that anyone needs to know that of course. Significantly stronger than he looks. Iskall is his grandson.

-Pearlescent Moon is our eventual keeper of the Ladybug Miraculous, and her family works as tailors. She loves her parents a lot, as well as her younger brother, Grian. The four of them are all particularly good with a needle and thread, but while Grian definitely has the talent and desire to take over the family business, Pearl prefers to try her skills at becoming a medical doctor and possibly a surgeon. She also wishes that Chat Noir would stop encouraging her brother’s obsession with heroes, her protective older sister senses are tingling and Chat is not her brother’s favorite, shut up. Obviously Grian likes Ladybug best. In school, her best friend is Gemini Tay.

-Grian is Pearl’s younger brother and he’s quite mischievous, but he loves his older sister to bits and wants to be like her. He goes to a different school from her, but he’s looking forward to next year, when he’ll be old enough to join Pearl at her high school.  He’s the Alya of this story, and once he finds out that Super Heroes are a thing, he’s hooked. His favored hero is Chat Noir and it seems that favor is returned, as the hero always seems to be willing to indulge his questions and happy cooing. Grian’s best friends are Mumbo Jumbo and Iskall.

-Gemini Tay is the eventual keeper of the Turtle Miraculous and is very calm, a bit naive, and quite kind- if a little bit of a clutz. Her hobby is gardening and she sometimes practices geurilla gardening, sneaking into local parks to plant flowers and fruits and vegetables without permission. She may or may not have run away from the police at some point in her life. Her worst subject by far is math, and she is very, very gay for False.

- Etho is the class trouble maker and the eventual keeper of the Bee Miraculous, which is a bit like handing a loaded gun to a bloodthirsty kindergartener and telling them to have fun. He’s best friends with Doc, with Doc as the sane man between the two of them. Etho’s favorite thing to do is cause as much trouble for people as possible without getting caught within 50 feet of the vicinity, with three alibis besides. Principal Hypno is his favorite attainable target, and Joe is his favorite target, period. Not that he can ever actually manage to prank Joe, the man seems to be able to avoid everything he’s ever thrown at him. 

-Doc is Pearl’s lab partner for Chemistry, Etho’s best friend, and the eventual keeper of the Fox Miraculous, to his eternal chagrin- orange really isn’t his color. Doc tries his best to keep Etho from taking over the school in a hostile coup while simultaneously keeping up with Pearl when it comes to competing for the top marks in their classes. It’s a full time job, and with a new little sister on the way, he’s perpetually exhausted. However, he still manages to find some time for a bit of mad science of his own.

-False is in Pearl and Gemini’s Math, English, and P.E. classes and she’s both terrifyingly competent and far too nice for Gemini’s poor little lesbian heart to take. False never gets a Miraculous, but she’s bad ass anyway and if ever there’s an akumatized person running around, she’s not above bashing them over the head with the nearest baseball-bat shaped object. False takes Chloe’s place as the most popular kid in school, and thus is good friends with Scar, the Cat Miraculous holder, but she’s far nicer. Stress is her best friend.

-Stress is the Sabrina of this world, and acts as False’s relentlessly positive second. The two of them get along quite well, and Stress matches False in her determination to kick ass despite their powerless status, even if Stress doesn’t quite have the muscle to back it up. There have been multiple occasions where Stress has run in to yeet her purse at an akumatized person, only to need rescue when she can’t actually do any real damage. People sometimes get frustrated with her for this.

-Vintage Beef is the Math/Chemistry teacher and Stress’ uncle. He serves as a sort of mentor for Doc and Etho, and he dotes on his niece after school, as he has to at least pretend to be professional during school hours. Unfortunately, professionalism isn’t something he’s particularly skilled at and he tends to make a lot of goofy mistakes throughout the day. His students love him anyway. Beef pretends not to find Etho’s pranks funny, and to limit Doc’s experimentation, but he’s not very successful on either front and serves as more of an enabler.

- Xisuma and Evil X are Hawkmoth and his wife in this situation. Xisuma was the bearer of the Peacock Miraculous, and Evil X bore the Butterfly one. When usage of the broken Peacock Miraculous put Xisuma in a coma, Evil X discovered that the Cat Miraculous could burn the corruption from his brother’s system and the Ladybug Miraculous could restore his brother to his healthy state. And thus the hunt for the Miraculi began. And thus Evil X as Hawkmoth began his reign of terror on the city in an attempt to cause a big enough mess to attract that century’s Ladybug and Chat Noir. However, he also decided to put together another snare. On the off chance that the Miraculi hadn’t chosen a bearer yet, he adopted Scar as a hopeful Miraculi magnet since he was disabled and bad luck-prone and that would be like catnip for the Miraculi more prone to fixing things. Evil X isn’t a terrible parent, but it’s clear he views Scar as a means to an end.

-Scar is living his best life. Sure, he has chronic pain, uses a wheel chair, and his medical bills were why his original parents put him into the system at the tender age of 8. Sure, he’s prone to bad luck and can’t seem to do anything right in any of his classes except art. But hey! He’s been adopted by the richest man in the city and with this ring he found in a gutter, he’s the super hero Chat Noir! Now if only his new dad actually paid him any attention... Oooh, cute boy! Never mind, angst over, time to impress his new cru- I mean fan boy! What’s his name? Grian? This is sure to end well! When using the Miraculous, Scar is able to run and jump like normal, which is something he never thought he would be able to experience for himself, making the super hero job an intensely emotional one for him.

-Cubfan is Scar’s minder and was hired by Evil X to keep his new kid out of the way, but he eventually gets the Peacock Miraculous too. He’s also the sole reason why Evil X hasn’t caught on to the fact that his plan worked and that Scar did end up with a Miraculous. Gloves at the slightest hint of a chill, clothes with pockets, trips to the arcade so Scar can win himself some plastic jewelry, Cubfan always has a plan, even if it’s carried out with more well-hidden panic than actual thought. For Cubfan, the moment he was hired on to take care of Scar and his charge turned around and asked what he could do to make taking care of him an easier burden on his minder, theyd’d been partners in crime ever since. He wishes Scar was more careful and had a better opinion of himself, but Scar’s life hasn’t exactly made true self-confidence all that easy to build up, so he’ll just have to be Scar’s biggest fan in the meantime. Even if that means taking up the broken Peacock Miraculous on Evil X’s request to keep attention off his charge.

-Impulse, Tango, Zedaph, BDubs, Iskall, Mumbo, Rendog, Jevin, and XB to come.

[mrsamaroevans]

YOU ALL OVER ME | ANGEL REYES

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x the consequences of his bad decisions with Female Reader.

Words: 3,673.

Warnings: Sad and like a bad word. English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor.

A/N: This is the first thing I finish like in ages! This was not requested but I couldn’t stop listening to You All Over Me by Taylor and this came out. Thank you so much for reading, feedback is well received. *Gif is not mine*

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

“The best and worst day of June was the one that I met you, with your hands in your pockets and your ‘don't you wish you had me’ grin. But I did, so I smiled”

Santo Padre Regional High School.

Those were the words that you read before crossing the door with your mother. You had only one week in Santo Padre and you still had time before the school year begins, but she wanted to have all that ready as soon as possible.

While your mother was making all the paperwork, you were waiting on a bench outside of the office until you got bored. As no one could stop you, you decided to walk around for the facilities of what soon would be your new school. It was smaller than the school you used to go to before moving across the country, but it was okay. Classrooms were big enough, lockers a bit smaller y the patios were open and surrounded by green areas. You weren’t too disgusted about changing school again anymore.

Near the cafetería, was a mural with pictures of the different extracurricular classes and the people who were part of them. The cheerleader’s team looked too pretentious. You hated that cliché, but it was what you felt by just looking at the picture, you could be wrong though. The theatre team looked cool, maybe you’d join them. Then, was the football team.

Guys that looked bigger than what a sixteen-year-old guy should be. One of them proudly carried a big trophy. He had to be the leader, it always is. What was the position they had? You didn’t know, you weren’t too familiar with the terms of the sport.

But that guy in specific caught your attention. It wasn’t because of the trophy he had in his hands or what that meant. He had a beautiful smile, but for some reason, it didn’t look sincere. There was something in his eyes that kept you looking at him. All of him looked happy and proud, but there was something more. Unfortunately, if someone asked you what it was, you wouldn’t know how to explain it. But there was something there.

“You’re new?”

You gave a little jump at the unexpected voice on your side. You turned to your right and you saw him again. The same guy with the trophy in the picture, now in real size at your side.

“I’m gonna be” you nodded and looked back at the mural to see the rest of the teams.

“And, you like what you see?”

That flirty tone in his voice almost made you laugh. You turned to him again and saw that he had a smile that combined with the tone of voice he used and with the question he had made. His hands in his pockets, making his biceps more notorious.

“A little bit, yeah,” you said, willing to not let him intimidate you. And the truth was that you really liked what you were seeing “You are on summer break, right? What are you doing here?”

“I’m gonna do an exam,” he said like he didn’t want to talk much about it, but you didn’t realize it.

“You’re still on finals?” You asked, confused. The first time you noticed in your route was that there were no students or teachers.

“Oh, no… it’s an extraordinary exam. Chemistry” The guy answered as he didn’t care too much that he failed a class. You didn’t know what would be your situation at home if you were in his place.

“So, you’re not good with chemistry, then”

“It all depends on the situation” he smiled.

You kept his gaze for a few seconds. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction to know that the first guy that got close to you in that city had made you shy. But the visual contact didn’t last too long, ‘cause you had to look at the ground for a second.

“What did you say your name was?” You asked, looking back at his face. He had beautiful brown eyes, but you were afraid that if you look at them for too long, he could know all your secrets.

“Angel,” he said and he looked so calm that that frustrated you even more.

“And I’m sure you’re not one”

Angel devilishly grinned and you felt your knees going a little weak. How a guy that you didn’t even know could have that power on you?

“What’s your name?” He asked and when you were about to answer, your phone rang so you lifted your index finger at him to ask for a moment. You took your mother’s call and the first thing she asked was:

“Where did you go?”

“I’m just walking around,” You told her calmly. You felt kinda sad when she told you that you needed to go to the office to sign the institutional regulation. That meant that your conversation with Angel came to an end “Okay... coming” you end the call and as you were placing your phone back into your pocket, you said: “I have to go”

You looked at him for the last time and started to make your way to the office, but you didn’t even give five steps when he spoke again.

“Hey!” He shouted making you turn back to him “You didn’t tell me your name”

“(Y/n)” you smiled and turned around to the way you had ahead.

“I lived, and I learned. Had you, got burned. Held out, and held on, God knows”

All the effort for the first date. The first kiss. The first ‘I love you.' The first time you made love. That day you met his parents and they adopted you into their family right away. All the double dates with his brother and girlfriend. The fairs and festivals. The football matches in which you were the one screaming louder than anyone whenever they made a score. His better grades. The jealousy from both sides. The fights because of the cheerleaders. All those break-ups and comebacks. Those days at the beach. The laughs. The tears. The good and the bad had gone and all because of his insecurities.

How did that happen? With three pictures someone left in your locker.

“What the hell, Angel?” Was the first thing you asked when you confronted him after school.

He saw the pictures and shrugged “You need me to explain it?” Those words had hit you too hard like never before a question had made. Your heart was breaking and it looked like he didn’t care even a little.

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked, not understanding that attitude towards you. He had never talked to you like that.

“Nothing, you’re the one who wants to fight,” He said, turning around to walk to the small desk beside his bed.

“I received pictures of you sleeping with Haley, what were you expecting?” You got close and threw the pictures at his back, they hit him and then fell to the floor. Angel barely looked at them and chuckled.

“It’s not so bad,” he said, turning to you.

“That it’s not so…?” You laughed at what you heard. Angel was a bit distant weeks before you had to go to college to finish your registration, but you never thought something like that could happen “It has to be a joke”

“You left for a week and I had physiology needs”

“Fucking jerk!” You shouted and couldn’t help but push him making him crashed against his desk. Some brushes fell to the floor and the tears in your eyes started to gather. You didn’t want him to see you crying, so you decided it was time to go.

“Everyone told you that but you didn’t want to see it” he aggressively said.

“Well, you got it” you turned to him and shrugged “Another broken heart… you smashed it” your voice trembled with the last words. That seemed to affect him because his hard expression softened for a second “I hope you’re happy”

But Angel wasn’t even close to being happy.

Once you left his room, he sat on the floor and saw the pictures. He ripped them apart while the tears fell from his cheeks. He hated himself.

He was a coward. He couldn’t break up with you, but he couldn’t let you stay with him. You had plans that he didn’t. Your vision of the future didn’t fit with his, and it was because he didn’t have one. He didn’t have plans like you, he wanted to go and take anything that comes his way. You had ambition, you had a plan to make your dreams come true, and him? He didn’t have anything.

To his eyes, you didn’t deserve someone like him.

“I lived, and I learned, and found out what it was to turn around and see, that we were never really meant to be”

Years went by and life changed.

Angel went through something he thought he never would. His mother has ripped away from their lives and that had been a hard blew for him. His little brother was sent to prison y couldn’t help but feel responsible because he made his way to get a gun easier. Ezekiel told him it was for mere protection, but deep down he knew his brother wanted retaliation.

And that made him get life imprisonment for the homicide of a cop.

His relationship with his father became tenser than what already was. But, after all that he had lost, he found a shelter. The club. Mayans MC. Those men went from simple mates to family too quickly.

He had heard from his father that you came back to the city. By that moment you were already done with college and your parents had been —finally— established in Santo Padre. You told him once, that you had fallen in love with the city and that, definitely, you could see your future there. So, when Felipe said that, he didn’t doubt in believing him.

But knowing you came back and seeing you had been so different for him.

He was on his way to the scrapyard in his bike with Coco and Gilly at both of his sides, but they had to stop for gas. Coco was saying something about how much he hated the hot weather and the incensement in the price of gas when a silver jeep parked in the pump in front of his.

Three doors opened. From the driver’s one jumped off a man with braids and sunglasses; he went directly to the pump. From one of the backseats door, as beautiful as he remembered, you went out.

He saw how you fixed your dress and laugh at something someone told you. You were fanning your face with your hands, a sign that you were hot. Then, a couple of seconds later, you took your hair and tied it in a messy bun. The hot air of Santo Padre in summer was excessive.

“We should have closed the windows and put the air conditioner” Angel heard a masculine voice and then he heard your laugh.

“You know that the combination of air conditioner and this weather make me sick, honey”

Honey. Angel hadn’t forgotten how that word sounded coming from your lips, but hearing you say it to another man broke his heart.

A man in a suit that looked to be more expensive than all of the boots Angel had, walked to you. He had a smile when he kissed you and even though he didn’t want to keep watching, for some unknown reason he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“That last house’s not a sign to desist in looking for our home here,” the man told you, taking your hands “We’re gonna find the perfect house or the perfect place to build it”

“I know,” you said and nodded. Your left hand touched his cheek and that was when Angel turned to his bike. The sunrays helped to the gleam of the giant diamond in your finger to not being unnoticed by him.

You were engaged, and you and your fiancé were looking for a house, which meant it wouldn’t take long for you to marry.

“You okay?” Coco asked him. He was pale and it seemed he could faint at any moment. But Angel didn’t answer, he turned to the jeep when the doors got closed instead.

The driver started the engine and that was when your gaze stopped in him.

You looked fine. You looked happy. When your eyes connected with his, you didn’t seem surprised or hurt, or shocked. In fact, he couldn’t decipher what he saw in your eyes.

“You know her?” Gilly asked.

“I used to,” Angel said when he found his voice which wasn’t quickly.

And even though he was hurt for letting you go in the way he did, when he saw you he realized that he had made the right decision. ‘Cause you belong to the world that man in the expensive suit could give you. It was too painful though, to find out —again— that he never really had a chance like that with you.

That night, he required the services of Vicky’s girls and after that, Coco had to drive him to his apartment ‘cause he couldn’t even walk for all the alcohol he drank to cope with the pain.

“So I lied, and I cried, and I watched a part of myself die”

Days after and thanks to el Padrino, he knew who your fiancé was. His name was Miguel Galindo and he was the son of José Galindo, founder of one the most powerful and deadliest cartels in the México-USA border. He also knew that your wedding was set to be in October and that would be in three months.

That day in the gas station wasn’t the last time he saw you. He had seen you in the mall with the first friend you made in Santo Padre. You met in the market and it had been so uncomfortable. There were a lot of people and you had to walk by too close to each other. He also saw you going out of a restaurant with Miguel at your side and once and then you two were in the paper news for going to charity events.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw you at the side of another man, he could never get use to it.

“I know you didn’t want to talk about it at the moment, but… why did you break up?” Felipe asked him. He didn’t more information to know what he meant. Angel had a couple of days going to his parents' house and Felipe knew why.

You had been there on so many occasions and Angel still couldn’t get over you.

“I cheated on her” Angel said “I slept with one of the cheerleaders and I made sure to have evidence. Evidence that I left in her locker”

Felipe sighed and shook his head no “We didn’t raise you like that, Angel”

“I know that” he sounded irritated “But I needed to push her away from me so she could get all the goals she had in life… and it turned out fine. She’s so much better now”

“Did you apologize to her?” His father questioned, hoping to get a positive answer, but when Angel remained silent, he got the answer he didn’t want “You have to do it, Angel. She was and is a great woman, she didn’t deserve that. But at least do it for your mother” Angel turned to his father. There were tears in his eyes at the mention of her “Your mother loved that kid, and she always taught you to apologize when you did something wrong”

Angel nodded and took his gaze up to the ceiling, promising his mother that he would apologize next time he sees you.

A month went by to see you again. A Friday, his father had asked him for help at the butcher shop, so he went out of the clubhouse and when he arrived at the shop, he saw a jeep parked outside and a man waiting by the backseat’s door. For the glass of the shop, he saw his father talking to you. You were smiling and later, your exit coincided with his entrance.

“Sorry,” you said with a small smile and thanked him when Angel stepped aside to let you walk out.

Angel looked at his father and the expression on his face said “Go” so he just nodded got out of the shop.

“Hey, (y/n)” his voice went out less determined than what he wanted, but it worked out to have your attention. The driver had already opened the door for you, but you still turned to him “Can we talk?”

“Uh… I don’t see why” you said.

“Please…” Angel insisted, feeling nervous for the first time in too long.

“Fine” you nodded and made a sign to your driver for him to wait. He took the butcher bag and went to the trunk “What happens?” You asked, giving a few steps towards him.

Angel pointed at the table so you could sit with him, and you did.

“I never apologized for what I did to you,” he said after a few seconds of silence. He saw you sighing and shaking your head.

“Angel…” you began to say, but he interrupted you.

“No, wait… I’m sorry. I truly am and I was in that moment too” he accepted, taking you by surprise ‘cause that day you didn’t see any repentance in him “I was a jerk, you didn’t deserve that and I’m so sorry”

You didn’t know what to say for a moment. Clearly, you had gotten over what happened, but, talking about it only took you to all the pain you felt and the depression you fell into that lasted more than you would have liked.

“Well, thank you for your apologies. I accept them” you finally said and Angel looked relieved with those words “But, don’t worry anymore… it’s been some years and we got over it, right?” You asked with a small smile on your face.

“Yeah…” Angel lied “I think it turned out fine for both of us”

“Yes, everything’s fine now” you repeated “And, well… we’re going to find once and then, the city is too small. Is good that it won’t be uncomfortable next time we cross paths” you smiled once more and stood up “I have to go” Angel accepted that and even though he wanted to make you stay a little bit longer. You stopped and turned to him by yourself “Angel?”

Angel looked up to you, you were closer than what he thought you would “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” you said pressing your lips together. When that happened, you called Felipe and Ez and talked to them, but you didn’t dare to talk to Angel.

“Thanks for the flowers” you shook your head no. You sent those flowers because you were in pain for what happened too, not because you wanted to look good before them or for them to thank you afterward.

“I loved her. She was amazing”

Angel smiled, remembering the times when his mother had told him that you were the one and that she would love to have you as a daughter-in-law “She loved you, too. She loved you so much” he admitted.

You smiled and did something that took him by surprise: you hugged him.

Angel reacted in time to hug you back, he did it tighter though, like he didn’t want to let you go again, and the truth was that he didn’t want to.

“Bye,” you said when you got apart, but he couldn’t say anything back. He just looked how you got in the car and how the jeep went away from the shop as he held on to those five seconds that the hug lasted.

The days kept on going until they became weeks and October arrived quicker than Angel imagined. El Padrino was invited to the wedding ‘cause he had been close to your future late father-in-law, so Miguel appreciated him.

Angel had promised himself he wouldn’t go. Being there and see you taking someone else’s name wouldn’t help in anything, but couldn’t contain from doing it. A few minutes after seven p.m, he drove to the church and waited outside. He was in a spot in which people couldn’t see him, but he would see when they go out. In his hands, he had a strip with black and white pictures from one of those machines at fairs. Those were the only pictures he kept after you broke up with him.

In the first one, you were only smiling. In the second, he was kissing you and in the third, you were smiling and showing your left hand in which you had a candy ring that Angel bought for you.

At 7:45 people started to leave the church and it didn’t take too long for you and your now-husband to go out. You looked beautiful. Your smile could light up the whole country, and, the man at your side looked happy too. He should be. Marry you should be enough reasons to be the happiest and luckiest man on the planet.

A tear fell when your husband cupped your face and kissed you. It didn’t matter how happy you looked, Angel couldn’t help but wish to be him taking your hand at that moment. He looked down at the pictures and sighed. He left them in the tree trunk that was being used as his hiding spot and turned to you, one last time.

He still loved you like the first day and he couldn’t deny it, and also couldn’t hide it. He was hoping to find you in another life to make things right.

“Cause no amount of freedom gets you clean. I’ve still got you all over me”

|| MY MASTERLIST ||