#i genuinely want to drop out so bad and just move away asap

[chorus-communities]

"ahaha i'm not depressed i don't even fit the DSM criteria" - guy who hasnt been to work or college in 2 weeks, got laid off, hasn't showered in 1 week, and lays in bed 70% of the day doing nothing.

[caramel-catss]

gladiolus (ch 1. i'll carry on)

on ao3

chapter word count: 5.2k

sequel to blue bow; continuing aubrey's story post-canon

It’s Saturday morning when Aubrey gets the knock on her door.

The last week has been frantic. Sunny’s mother had actually showed up the day after Sunny’s confession, promptly pressuring the doctors into letting him leave ASAP. He was discharged on Monday after insurance debates and follow-ups at some city hospital were scheduled. Aubrey hasn’t seen him since.

Basil wasn’t so lucky. With only bruises, he was considered fine before he first woke up. Where is he now, then? The psych ward. Okay, well, they were told that he’s been transferred to a “mental health institution” and will stay there for at least two weeks. More if Sunny’s mom presses charges. 

Aubrey knows what it really means, though. Mav had been sent there by his parents a year or two ago, after he came out as a boy. Taken back after they didn’t “fix” him. But Basil has some serious issues, and - and this genuinely is what he needs. He’s getting the help he needs.

And Aubrey? She almost bailed right after she heard Sunny’s confession. She actually did have to run to the roof, get some fresh air in her so she wouldn’t lunge for Sunny’s good eye. But she knew that there was no way in hell she could leave, not right after promising herself to stay. So, she called Kim on the public telephone and asked her to take care of Mom and Bun Bun for a few more days.

But on Monday, she had work. So she slept in the hospital room Saturday and Sunday night, and then Hero drove her to Fix-It.

Yes, she’s working at Fix-It. No, she’s not happy about it. Her now-manager is the only person who’s willing to hire a crazy delinquent like her, and that’s because he genuinely needs the work.

Now it’s Saturday again. A week since Aubrey’s life was turned upside down, again, because Mari didn’t actually kill herself. Somehow, it’s worse than that. Aubrey’s had a good five days to block that shit out while she shelves products, and a good five nights to smoke with the Hooligans and forget.

The knock sounds once more, louder. Aubrey lightly drops Mom’s plate on the couch. She’s been needing to spoon-feed Mom recently; the woman won’t eat at all otherwise.

“Mom, you gotta eat, okay?” Aubrey murmurs. “I know you haven’t been wanting much lately, but you have to at least have a little to keep moving.”

Mom looks at the food and pushes it away. Her eyes turn back to the TV. Aubrey sighs and stands up.

“Hellooooo? Aubrey?” Kel’s voice wafts through the doorway.

“I’m here,” she calls. She grabs her jacket, pulls it on, and answers the door.

Hero and Kel are standing outside. Hero’s tapping his fingers on his leg. Kel lights up when he sees her.

“Hey,” he smiles. “We just wanted to check up on you.”

That’s… new. “Oh, um, I’m alright.”

“How’s your mom doing?” Hero asks. His eyebrows are furrowed.

Aubrey blinks. “You’ve seen her?”

“We passed by her when we first visited you,” Kel explains. “Hero’s been worried ‘cause she seemed really out of it.” Judging by Kel’s look, Hero wasn’t the only one.

“Probably drunk when you saw her,” Aubrey mutters. “I guess she’s… fine. Hasn’t eaten much.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Hero says.

“Uh.” The only help she’s gotten before is from Kim, who mostly just covers for her when she needs it. “...I dunno.”

“Hm,” Hero replies. “Can we come inside?”

Aubrey steps inward, pressing the semi-broken door until it taps against the wall. “Sure.”

Hero makes his way to Aubrey’s mom. He sits down next to her, asking yes-or-no questions. He sounds like he’s about to diagnose her with something. Did you eat today? What about last night? Have you drank anything?

To her credit, Mom gives him small nods and shakes of the head. Better than how she reacts to Aubrey, anyway. Maybe she recognizes him from the past better than she recognizes her.

Kel paces around her house. He eventually walks back over to Aubrey.

“Hey, um, Aubrey… sorry if this is a bad question.”

“Just say it,” Aubrey replies. It’s not like the dam hadn’t broken already. “We’re all supposed to start talking about the hard shit.”

“Yeah, yeah. Uh… what did happen with your dad? I heard things at the church, but…”

But he wants to hear her side, too. She… really appreciates that. Aubrey takes a deep breath. This - she really doesn’t like speaking about this. But if Kel genuinely cares, then… She’ll try.

“Um,” she starts. “It was a few months after the Mari thing.” Kel’s expression shifts to worry. “I guess, I guess my grief was kinda his breaking point.” He takes a step forward. “He had a huge fight with Mom one night. About me. And the next morning, he was gone.”

Kel pulls her into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Aubrey freezes for a second, forgetting how to react. Eventually her brain catches up and she awkwardly wraps her arms around Kel. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Kel says. A few seconds pass, then they pull away.

Hero stands up soon after. “I’m going to find someone to help with your mom.”

“Wait, what?” Aubrey turns her head to Hero. 

“She needs extensive help.” Hero bites his cheek. “A professional kind of help, I mean.”

Well, yeah, she knows that. “I can’t afford it.”

Hero bites his lip and furrows his eyebrows. “We’ll… find a way. I’ll pay for it if I need to.”

“Aren’t you broke as shit?” Giving money is an immediate hell no. She appreciates they’re friends again, but she doesn’t need Hero’s pity. “Like, you’re a college student, dude. I know you guys wanna help, but you don’t have to kill yourselves over me.”

With the way Hero flinches, Aubrey knows she shouldn’t have ended with that. “...Sorry. But… really, you don’t have to do everything.”

“I’m supposed to take care of you guys, though…” Hero has a guilty look in his eye.

“Hey,” Aubrey says. She pats Hero on the shoulder. “You don’t owe me. Consider saving Basil and Sunny’s life as more than enough.”

“Haha,” Hero replies, humorless. “Okay. I won’t pay for it. But I do want to find her someone.”

“Let’s compromise on that,” Aubrey agrees. “Thank you, Hero.”

Kel suddenly perks up. “Oh, wait! We came here to ask you something.”

Hero sighs, but he’s smiling. “Of course, Aubrey. And yeah, we did.”

“What’s it?” Aubrey crosses her arms.

“Since it’s summer and we have time to hang out,” Kel begins, “We wanted to go to the beach. Since it’s been a while and stuff…”

“...And,” Hero continues, “We’d like to invite you and your other friends.”

Aubrey blinks. “Oh.” Invite the Hooligans, too?

Hero and Kel look at her as she processes, waiting for her reply. Aubrey’s confusion soon melts into a dumb giddiness. This is the kind of friendship they’re trying to rebuild. And - and they’re okay with her new self coming along, her new friends.

“Fuck yeah.” Aubrey grins.

Kel smiles, something wide and childish and happy in a way Aubrey hasn’t seen in years. In a way that makes Aubrey realize the happiness he’s been wearing, the happiness she envied, was just a cover for emptiness.

“We’ll drive over tomorrow at 10 or so,” Hero says. “Should we go find the Hooligans?”

Aubrey nods. “I promised them I’d hang out today, anyway. You should come with, we’ll tell them.” 

As she speaks, Aubrey begins gathering her things. She pulls on her shoes and adjusts her bow; pulls it too tight, as always. Even now - especially now, the sting is something she can’t handle being without. Sorry, Mari.

“Are they at the park?” Kel asks.

“Probably.” That or the lake, but they’ve kind of ditched the spot after what happened with Basil. Talk about deja vu, huh? Maybe the place is just cursed.

The Hooligans do end up being at the park. They’re all elated at the thought of the beach. When Kim mentions getting a tan, Aubrey realizes that she doesn’t own a swimsuit in her size. Her excitement outweighs the worry, though, and she decides she can just sit on the sand.

Kel spots one of Angel’s trading cards before long. The two fall into a long discussion about different Pokémon, which ends with the group heading to Kel’s house so they can challenge each other. Aubrey plays Mario 3 with The Maverick on Kel’s old NES. Hero has a hilariously awkward exchange with Vance that Aubrey can’t help but eavesdrop on.

“You’re a senior next year, right? Are you thinking of any colleges?”

“Nah. Gonna snag a job so Kim and I can skip town after graduation, though. We’re either going to the city or some other state, anywhere away from here.”

“Oh. Um, that’s cool.”

“You?” Vance raises his eyebrows to Hero.

“I’m in med school.”

“Shit. Guess I shouldn’t smoke around ya, then, in case your teachers kick your ass or something.”

“You’re good, haha… Just not in my mom’s house, please.”

Vance puts his lighter in his pocket and shoves a cigarette back into its pack. He had been trying to discreetly pull them out; unfortunately, he’s an obvious motherfucker. Aubrey has to throw her hand over her face to conceal her snort. She’s rewarded with her character losing a power-up.

After Mav and her finish the world, they end up being somehow led by Charlene to Fix-It. Aubrey tries not to be embarrassed when her manager waves at her.

The group walks into the back room: the greenhouse. Aubrey doesn’t really go in here often. She’s usually stuck in the front. Her manager’s decent enough at gardening to take care of the back himself, she guesses.

Charlene tugs Aubrey’s arm over to some potted flowers. They haven’t bloomed yet, but they seem close. She gestures to one of them.

“What is it?” Aubrey asks. It looks a bit familiar.

The taller girl turns to her with a smile. “...Gladiolus.”

And suddenly this plant is associated with a memory. “Oh,” she says. “Someone once told me that I was like this flower.”

Charlene nods, as if she knows exactly what Aubrey means. Aubrey thinks about how she never really participated when they were out antagonizing Basil. She goes to this greenhouse a lot… are her and Basil friends?

“These ones will bloom soon,” Charlene continues. “But… not yet.”

Aubrey tilts her head. Is Charlene trying to say something? But the girl doesn’t continue, and Kel soon calls Aubrey somewhere else. She forgets about it.

Lunch is at Gino’s. Maybe Aubrey shouldn’t eat this much pizza, but it’s that or the supermarket’s TV dinners. The group crowds around Angel at the Sprout Mole Eater machine. He tries to beat the record for a solid thirty minutes, blowing half his allowance on it. Sunny was the one who set it. The crown is challenged, but ultimately Angel settles for second place.

Kel challenges Aubrey to a basketball game. She doesn’t really play much, only knows how to because of P.E., but why not?

She loses horribly. Lesson learned; don’t fuck with something Kel’s genuinely good at.

In retaliation, Aubrey kicks Kel’s ass at tetherball. The war begins. They spend all afternoon playing different games in the park - capture the flag, knockout, volleyball (only briefly because it doesn’t work well when you use a basketball), and after getting tired of physical activity, Aubrey even learns how to play Pokémon. She’s okay at it, better than the others; Kel and Angel taught opposing strategies.

At some point, the sun begins to set. Aubrey lets time run away from her. It’s with a look at the sky and the jolt of a realization that she forgot to feed Mom. She hasn’t visited Mari yet today, either.

Aubrey’s given space to do both; she’s thankful. As much as she appreciates reconnection, she genuinely prefers to do some of these things alone. Luckily, Mom isn’t nearly as difficult tonight as she was this morning. Aubrey changes Bun-Bun’s water and food before she throws on some pants and heads back out.

For as much as the church is open to all, they lock their doors at sunset. A safety thing. Aubrey can’t help but find it ironic.

Hopping the fence is a practiced motion that Aubrey is more than used to. Like a dance, she swings herself over the metal and lands on the grass. The night is quiet and without wind.

Next to Mari’s grave, the egret orchid has begun to wilt. Aubrey’s not quite sure how to take care of it. She lugs over a hose, drips what she judges to be enough water into the pot, and hopes she did enough. Then she kicks the hose out of the way and settles criss-cross in front of Mari.

“Hey,” Aubrey says. “I hope you’re okay with me coming over later. Even though the pastor said I’m welcome, the churchgoers have finally had enough of me. I can’t really go during the day without getting glared at.”

Aubrey doesn’t know if she’s religious anymore. When she was a kid she would beg for God to forgive her and make her a boy, like her body was. As she grew older, she came to realize that was bullshit and she was a girl no matter what. Either way, God never saved her. Not from Daddy or her friends falling apart.

When she sits here, though, she swears she can feel a presence. Something akin to the spirits that the gravekeeper talks about. It’s almost like, like Mari is still watching over her.

…Hell, she had a dream where she met Mari again, didn’t she? Last week at the hospital. It couldn’t be anyone else, or a dream version of her. That was Mari.

So she likes to think that Mari hears her. That Mari and her are actually having a conversation, even though Mari has no voice to reply with anymore. Maybe she’s crazy, but after everything that’s happened, she can’t bring herself to care.

“Thanks again for talking to me last week,” Aubrey mumbles. “I wish we had more time.”

She always wishes they had more time. Always.

Aubrey twists her finger into the dirt. “Kel and Hero invited me to go to the beach tomorrow. The Hooligans are coming, too. I really haven’t been there since before you died. I’m kinda nervous, honestly. I don’t have a swimsuit or a bikini or anything. Not that they’d make me look feminine, anyway.

“If you were still alive, I’m sure you’d find a way to help me dress up like a girl for it, haha. You were always the one who supported me with those things.

“...My voice has been getting deeper. This stuff was a lot easier when I was twelve. I try to ignore it, there’s worse shit happening to me, but it’s always in the back of my mind, y’know? You once said that a lot of your problems were like that.

“It feels weird to think about your problems, now. Do you get what I mean? Like, because you didn’t kill yourself, it all feels so… confusing. It had looked like all the pieces were in place, but we didn’t notice. But now it’s not that. Am I, am I still bad for not saving you?”

She bites her cheek. Somehow, it always comes back to this - the cause of Mari’s death.

“I kind of feel like I’m in purgatory. Sunny’s in the city, and Basil’s in the ward. And Kel and Hero like to repress this stuff… we didn’t talk about it at all today. I feel like nothing’s gonna happen until I face Basil or Sunny again, but I don’t know if I can do that. Am I taking too much time? No, that’s stupid, it’s only been a week.”

Ugh, why did this have to be so difficult? Aubrey leans back and looks at the stars. The stars always help.

“I’m worried about Basil,” she blurts out.

Nobody questions her - well, nobody’s around to question her. So, Aubrey keeps going. “Like, I dunno. I saw his grandma in her hospital room when I walked down the hall. It made me think about Basil’s behavior the day we checked on him, and… suddenly everything made sense. How he locked himself away. Why he wanted the photo album so badly. The reason why these flowers are here, why your grave was cleaned up.

“Mari, I… he was planning to kill himself. And I, I didn’t notice before. With Sunny moving away and his grandmother dying. I j-just…”

Tears push against Aubrey’s eyes, taunting her. She sniffs.

“How could I face him now, knowing that I hurt him when he needed help most? And how, how could I face him, knowing what he did to you? How am I supposed to feel about him?”

Aubrey pulls in a shaky breath. She sits back up and looks at Mari.

“You said that we aren’t bad people, Mari. That what’s happened has happened. But, but we hurt each other so much. I almost killed Basil. Basil helped kill you. How could… you forgive us so easily? I don’t understand.”

She doesn’t know if she’ll ever understand. She doesn’t know why God hasn’t appeared to damn them all, these murderers and adjacents who call themselves friends. The only good person was Mari, who didn’t kill herself, who never was the reason for their pain. So how could she forgive them? How could she say it doesn’t matter, she loves them anyway?

“I don’t understand,” Aubrey repeats. But Mari can no longer reply.

Her thoughts run blank. She can’t comprehend it all, can’t wallow in self-hatred. There are no words left to say.

So she mumbles, “Goodnight, Mari,” and stumbles to her feet. She walks home on autopilot. None of this makes any fucking sense. It probably never will.

Aubrey’s blankets are old, thin, and dirty. She has to do laundry soon, or better yet, buy new sheets. Maybe she’ll do that with her summer job money.

Sleep comes to Aubrey easily. She’s tired: not the kind that comes from bawling her eyes out for hours, but the kind where she doesn’t want to think anymore. It feels like a welcome embrace. Like an older sister’s warm arms. Aubrey makes no hesitation to accept it.

Morning brings a wave of heat that can only be attributed to July. Aubrey wears a tank top and a skirt. Both pieces are now out of fashion, but seriously, who gives a shit? She’s more worried about getting sunscreen.

Thankfully, Hero and Kel’s mother has some. Soon after Aubrey arrives, she gets fussed over and handed a stick of it before she can ask.

“Thanks, Tia,” Aubrey smiles. 

The woman waves her off. “Nada, querida, keep it! We have too many extras.”

Aubrey blinks. “Um, alright.”

Hero appears with pancakes and other snacks. Kel had already packed a picnic basket, which is now in the back of the car.

“Want one?” He asks. It’s his old recipe, the chocolate-chip ones that him and Mari always made on Saturday mornings.

“Yeah,” Aubrey accepts. The pancake is fluffy and warm on her tongue, just like it always was. These were only ever beaten by Mari’s cookies - if they were even comparable. Pancakes were Hero’s thing, cookies were Mari’s.

Hero grins, but his mother turns to him before he can say anything. “Heitor, quem mais vai? Já está tudo arrumado?”

“Sim, não se preocupe tanto!” Hero sighs lightheartedly. “Vai ser só a gente e os amigos da Aubrey.”

His mom smiles. “Tudo bem, chame seu irmão, por favor.”

Hero nods and turns away, placing his tray on the table before leaving and calling for Kel.

Aubrey decides to sit at the table and eat pancakes until the others show up. Hero comes back over with Kel before long. They play cards while they wait, chatting about the family’s plan for remodeling the house. Apparently, they’re adding a room by the stairs, presumably for Sally once she gets a little older.

It’s slow, but the Hooligans arrive. Mav is somehow last. He rolls his eyes at Kel’s comment about literally being next door, claiming he had “important affairs to attend to first”. Quietly, he admits to Aubrey that he’s been struggling to bind with Ace bandages. 

Kel steals shotgun before Aubrey can, damnit. She settles for the backseat with Kim, squished together with Angel in the middle. The Maverick’s in the way back between Vance and Charlene. He complains about leg room; his loss for choosing that seat.

Hell breaks loose as soon as Hero backs out of the driveway. Angel and Kim fight over the radio - which mainly consists of yelling at Kel to change the station - while Vance yaps about something Aubrey doesn’t really care about, so she half-asses her replies. To Hero’s credit, he doesn’t seem too distracted. Aubrey can only guess it’s a skill that comes with being the oldest of three.

As they make the fifteen minute drive to the beach, Aubrey realizes she hasn’t been in a car in a long time. Not since Daddy left with his, anyway. She never really needed one, at least not yet. The feeling is still a bit jarring. Aubrey’s not stupid - she knows that she’s poorer than her friends. It’s just… weird, looking at these little things.

Aubrey’s shoes meet gravel as she hops through the door. Kim runs past her, cheering. Hero and Kel start unloading stuff from the back, Charlene joining them. Vance lights a cig.

Arms wrap around Aubrey, Angel grabbing her. He points to the shoreline.

“Look at that!” Angel says. “We can play real volleyball!” Aubrey squints. She thinks she can see an abandoned ball down at the shore.

“If it’s not deflated.” She shrugs.

The younger nods. “I’ll go get The Maverick! He can test it!” Aubrey’s left alone as Angel runs off.

Aubrey turns over to the responsible people. Kel’s holding two or three things, and Hero isn’t faring much better, so Aubrey grabs stuff from them both. With Charlene following behind, they look like a weird multi-colored parade shuffling down the boardwalk.

The picnic blanket is the first thing to be dropped unceremoniously. Then someone yells “Shit!” because all the sand gets kicked up by the fabric’s landing. Angel and Kel immediately have to chase after the blanket. Wind and sand particles bite at Aubrey’s eyes, but she laughs all the same.

Aubrey and Kim are tasked with finding medium-sized stones to hold the blanket down. They jog slowly, falling the shoreline and eyeing the water. Kim already kicked off her shoes and left them at their camp, so she wades.

“Ow,” Kim complains. “Stupid-fucking-nerd-rock.” She picks up a tiny yet sharp pebble, throwing it into the ocean.

“Your fault for being barefoot this close to the rocky areas,” Aubrey comments. 

Kim rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

They find the first two stones easily, nestled almost right next to each other. The third takes a little longer, but it isn’t far. The fourth stone gives them trouble.

“What the hell,” Aubrey grunts. “How hard is it to find a stupid rock?”

“Dunno,” replies Kim. “This is dumb.”

Aubrey shrugs.

Kim twiddles her fingers as they head inland to look further. Aubrey can see there’s something on her mind - over the years, Kim’s tells have become obvious.

“What is it,” Aubrey says. Kim blinks at her. “C’mon, I know something’s up.”

Her best friend eventually sighs. “Damn, you’re good at that. It’s just, I dunno, Vance.”

“What happened?” Aubrey asks. Kim squints at the sand.

“It’s dumb,” Kim murmurs, kind of sheepish. “Like, I’m fine with smoking and stuff. Don’t get me wrong about that. It’s just, when Vance…”

Aubrey thinks back to ten minutes ago, Vance immediately grabbing a cigarette. It’s eleven in the morning. “Too much. Too often.”

“Yeah,” Kim nods. “Just gets me worried, I guess. And he’s blowing a lot of our money on it.”

Isn’t Aubrey used to that… “You should, um, talk to him about it, I guess. At least ask him to stop pulling it from your escape fund.” This is bullshit advice and she knows it, but she’s the opposite of qualified.

Kim bites her cheek. “I’ll try. Thanks, Aubs.”

Aubrey smiles awkwardly, and the conversation fades. What a way to fuck that up. She wishes she could actually help with this stuff, but when she thinks about how she’s only worsened Mom’s addiction, she feels horrible.

A few minutes later, Kim suddenly squats. She pokes at the ground. “Hey, check this one out.”

Aubrey looks to Kim. She’s pointing at a rock with some cracks through the middle. It’s fully in one piece, but only barely. A small flower has sprouted next to it - yellow and small, it kind of resembles a sunflower.

“That should be good,” Aubrey nods. She reaches to pick it up, but she’s sliced by one of the jagged edges. “Fuck!”

“Shit, are you okay?” Kim shoots to her feet, checking Aubrey’s thumb. A thin line of blood has formed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she murmurs. Using her good hand, she scoops up some of the wet sand and fills in the stone’s wounds. “That should be better. Let’s take it back.”

Aubrey’s finger continues to sting, so she decides to ask Hero about it once they get back. She hands the stones to others, who place them on the blanket. Hero’s not there - when Aubrey asks, Kel tells her that he went to the car.

She crosses the boardwalk, reaching the parking lot in full strides. Hero is behind the car, pulling a heavy-looking bag over his shoulder.

“Hey,” she calls. Hero practically jumps.

“Aubrey, you scared me!” He laughs.

“Whoops,” Aubrey replies, unrepentant. She holds up her thumb. “You have any Band-Aids?”

Hero nods. “Just in the front seat, I’ll grab them.” When he turns, Aubrey eyes his bag.

“I can carry that,” she offers.

“It’s alright.” Hero shakes his head. “Your hand is hurt.”

Hero returns with the bandage. He hesitates when he goes to give the bandage to Aubrey. She looks at him for a second and notices his guilty expression.

“You can bandage it if you want,” Aubrey says. She can do it just fine herself, but Hero and Mari handled Band-Aid placement when they were kids. Part of her… wants to feel the safety those two radiated again.

“Sorry,” Hero murmurs.

Aubrey raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“Um,” he says. “For leaving you to do this” - He gestures at the bandage - “Alone. I was supposed to take care of you guys.”

He said that yesterday, too. “You…” Aubrey doesn’t really know how to comfort Hero. It’s always been the other way around. “You were a kid, too. And you were hurting.”

“Yeah, but I…” Hero sniffs. He tries putting the Band-Aid on, but it gets a little crumpled and part of the cut doesn’t end up covered. Aubrey looks at the squished Spaceboy design.

“We’re here now, that’s what matters.” Aubrey doesn’t really believe her own words, because not all of them are there. Hero smiles; she can tell he doesn’t believe it either.

“Thank you,” he says. “That’s what we should focus on, I think.” 

They’re trying, though, aren’t they? As much as they can, even under all this pressure? Aubrey thinks that, Aubrey hopes that, “Mari’s proud of us.”

Hero kind of blinks at her. It takes him a second to register her words.

“...I really want her to be,” he eventually breathes. “I really, really do.”

Aubrey almost asks him right there if he saw her that night. He had to if she was visiting their dreams, right? That’s what she told Aubrey.

But Aubrey waits a beat too long, because Hero turns away to put the wrapping in the trash.

“Come on,” Hero says, “Let’s go have fun. It’s summer, after all.”

It still bothers her. And it will continue bothering her, but she pushes it to the back of her mind. Hero’s right; it’s summer.

“Alright.” Aubrey nods. “Let’s go have fun.”

It’s sunset when they return home from the beach, soon after eating dinner. The Hooligans are on their thirty-somethingth verse of “99 Bottles of Beer”. Kel’s chugging soda as Mav cheers at him. Aubrey’s had a grin on her face for maybe fifteen minutes now, and she knows it’s not going away anytime soon. Throughout the day, the bow has loosened in her hair.

Hero has to tell the teenagers to calm down multiple times after he parks the car. Of course, it only riles them up more. He eventually gets them all out, and the majority of the Hooligans head out for the park to spent the next few hours in. Aubrey, Hero, and Kel stay.

“You’re not following your friends?” Hero asks.

“I need to check on my mom,” Aubrey replies. “And my bunny, and Mari. I might join them later if I’m up for it.”

“You’re… really responsible.” Hero gives her a sad smile. “Well, we won’t keep you. C’mon, Kel.”

“See ya,” Kel says. “Today was fun. Like, really. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Aubrey nods at them both. She waves goodbye as they walk towards the door, but drops her hand when Kel gets distracted by Hector running out of his doghouse. 

Aubrey turns for the end of the sidewalk. It’s still decently warm outside, but it’s way cooler than earlier. She notes to herself that she’ll need to grab a jacket before she visits Mari. And shake the sand out of her shoes. There is so much.

But she doesn’t have to do that yet. The wind is calm, so Aubrey breathes.

This past week has been really hard. Her old friends are murderers. Her sister didn’t kill herself. But - but then. Then Kel, Hero, and the Hooligans have supported her. And this past weekend was one of the most fun she’s had in years.

It’ll be… it’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. There’s a lot happening in Aubrey’s life, but there’s also moments like these, where she’s just watching a pretty sunset. She’s… never appreciated that before. She had been too angry at the world to do so. And as much as she kind of hates Sunny and Basil right now, she’s, she’s tired of being angry.

Honestly, it’s hard to admit that to herself.

Closing her eyes, Aubrey makes a decision. She can’t bring herself to forgive Basil or Sunny. But she can’t let those feelings take over her life, either. Not like last time.

Mari, I hope you can understand that. I don’t really know how to feel anymore, but now… because I finally can, I want to focus on the other friendships I lost.

Aubrey lets the world envelope her for a few seconds longer. She prays that Mari can hear her. And even if she can’t, the thought brings Aubrey comfort.

She hopes that this is a good decision. That she’s being mature. Hero said she was just now, but she doesn’t really know what that means, ha.

Slowly, Aubrey opens her eyes. Golden beams of sunlight dully sift through the trees. Okay, she can do this. Feed everyone, shoes, jacket, visit Mari, park. That’s manageable.

Aubrey takes a step forward.

[crankynewt]

Good for a Weekend (Helmut Zemo)

Masterlist

Summary: You were retired, a disgraced Avenger content living the rest of their life out in solitude. But Sam and Bucky's shenanigans dragged you back into the hero life and you found yourself face to face with the man who'd got you into this mess in the first place. The question is, however, is he really who you thought he was? Or are you just as crazy as him?

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Warnings: TFAWS Episode 3 Spoilers, Zemo (he's a warning), swearing, mentions of torture and experimenting (past), drinking, Zemo being semi-protective, I think that's it??

Word Count: 3.41k

Author's Note: Biting the bullet and writing this BEFORE Marvel does something to get us to hate him again. Also, ZEMO AND BLANK SPACE WORK SO WELL TOGETHER OMG.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” You murmured, looking at the message from Sam flashing across your phone. Although you had stopped dead in your tracks, the chaos of the bustling streets of London continued around you. You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose, them having fallen down as you were peering at the screen of your burner cell.

‘Need your help in Madripoor ASAP,’ the text read. You weren’t daft, you knew exactly what kind of lawless entropy happened on that Indonesian island and if Sam was asking for your help, that meant he was in some deep shit.

‘I’m retired,’ you replied, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. Although you’d been pardoned after the Berlin incident by the government, you were still a disgraced Avenger in the eyes of the world. All you wanted was to live the rest of your life out in peace, a future without the world-saving you began when you left HYDRA with the Maximoff twins.

You hadn’t chosen to become a human lab rat, tortured and exposed to the mind stone until you could suddenly hear the thoughts of others in your head. Telepathy and telekinesis were not necessarily the kind of special skills that employers wanted to see on a resume, but alas, here you were. Thankfully, however, you'd learned to block them out until necessary to violate people's privacy. Fighting aliens and other superpowered entities, including the people you’d once considered to be your family, were in the past.

‘Please. It’s Bucky,’ Sam messaged again. Those three words were enough to make your blood run cold and your heart stop. Bucky was the reason you were in this mess in the first place, and you would be damned if the ex-assassin was going to fall back into the clutches of evil.

With a sigh, you typed back ‘fine’ and began the trek towards your apartment. Your phone was vibrating again immediately, Sam explaining that they would be picking you up at a small airstrip on the edge of the city.

Three hours later, you were walking along a long, concrete runway, the harsh England wind attacking your body as you pulled your leather jacket tighter around you. Your brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of a civilian jet rather than the military-esque vessels you’d become accustomed to. The steps were awaiting your ascent with an older man stood adjacent to the entrance.

“Ms.(Y/L/N),” he greeted. A thick accent laced his tone, one you couldn’t quite determine from the crackling of age in his voice. German or Russian, most likely, you deduced. Attempting to be polite despite your skepticism, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and handshake before the elder man gestured towards the stairs for you. Entering the jet, you turned right to be met with the familiar faces of Sam and Bucky.

“(Y/N)!” Bucky exclaimed, rising from his seat and embracing you in a hug. He held you tightly against his body, almost as if he wasn’t sure you were really there. The super soldier had taken a liking to you when the two of you stayed in Wakanda during your exile, both of you having a certain understanding of the other due to your shared experiences with HYDRA. The sergeant had become somewhat of a brother to you in your time away together. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam messaged me.” You replied, Barnes’ arms immediately releasing you as he whipped around to face Sam.

“You tattled on me to (Y/N)?” He scoffed. If looks could kill, Sam would have dropped dead from the darkness in Bucky’s orbs.

“Wait, if he’s okay then what am I here for?” You said, shifting your gaze to Sam as you raised a brow.

“You’re here to make sure that he stays in line.” Sam snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as Bucky let out an exasperated ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath.

“Bucky’s fine, Sam.” You replied, rubbing your face with your hand in annoyance as you glanced at the super-soldier.

“He’s not talking about James.” A new voice sounded from behind you, one both vaguely familiar but also strange. Whipping around, you were met with a face you’d only ever seen through a screen. Zemo.

“What the fuck is he doing out of prison?!” You exclaimed, looking between Sam and Bucky in utter disbelief.

“Bucky broke him out of jail!” Sam exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the super-soldier.

“Sam’s the one who pulled me into this mess!” Bucky pointed back.

“You two morons have reached a whole new level of dumbassery!” You exclaimed, keeping a cautious gaze on Zemo in the corner of your eye. “You broke out the man who ripped apart the Avengers out of jail and you let him do it?! The same man who killed King T’Chaka! Do neither of you remember what T’Challa and the people of Wakanda just did for us after we became enemies of the state?! I cannot believe that you would betray their trust and help this monster to escape!”

You paused for a moment, breathing heavily as you looked at the ashamed faces of Bucky and Sam in front of you.

“I’m sorry to-” You heard Zemo begin, you turned to face him with utter rage shining in your eyes. “No! The grown-ups are talking, you can wait your turn.” You scolded him, almost as you would a child but just a tad harsher. Grown-ups may have also not have been the best choice of words to describe Wilson and Barnes.

“I don’t want any part of this suicide mission!” You snapped at the duo, moving to leave.

Thirty minutes later, however, you were still on the jet, glaring into a pair of brown eyes as the four of you flew through the air. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you were still there, but Sam and Bucky knew you too well and pushed just the right buttons to convince you to stay. Sam needed you to tap into Zemo’s mind if need be to figure out if he was planning on betraying them, and you didn’t want two of the last people you trust getting themselves killed if you could prevent it.

Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum were sitting across from each other, meaning that you got stuck sitting across from the Baron in silence. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, the darkness in your (Y/E/C) orbs not sitting well with the man.

“So, you read minds.” He began, rubbing his hands together anxiously. You noted the nervous tick and couldn’t help but feel amused at his discomfort, but your expression never faltered.

“You don’t need to make small talk.” You bit, your icy tone growing colder in every syllable.

“I’m genuinely curious, is all.” He began, pausing his fiddling to brush his hair back only to resume it once more. “It just seems like for someone with your abilities, you’re often an overlooked member of the team. You’re the most powerful, even more so than Maximoff or Banner, perhaps, yet you were never truly an Avenger, were you?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m retired.” You muttered, ending your glaring to gaze out the window. The way Zemo spoke about you was unsettling, especially considering how he felt about the Avengers. He seemed not to think that you were part of the team, similarly to Bucky, and that brought you a feeling of unease.

“And why is that?” Zemo pushed, your avoidance evidence that he’d struck a chord.

“Why do you care?” You scoffed, looking back at the Sokovian man, both annoyance and exhaustion present in your tone.

“Because I think you’re like me.” He answered, his tone becoming quieter. Zemo didn’t look at you with the same rage you’d seen in footage from 2016, nor with the amusement that he gazed at Bucky and Sam with. No, it was something different, softer and analytical, perhaps. You wanted to peer into his mind for something, anything to figure out what he was thinking, but he would likely feel your prodding into his consciousness. As of now, he didn’t seem to have any plans to betray you guys, and you wouldn’t be the one to give him a reason.

“That’s enough from you.” Bucky interrupted, rising from his seat to switch places with you, his brotherly possessiveness clear as day.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and Zemo provided the three of you with costumes for the roles you were to play in Madripoor. Yours seemed to have been designed specifically to be horribly uncomfortable, both in feel and the amount of skin that was exposed in the cool evening air. The three of you were making your way towards the glowing city shining in the distance, the nerves in your stomach rising with each step.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo explained in response to Sam’s protests over his own outfit. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam said, looking at the picture of Conrad on the phone Zemo had just handed him. “Hell, he does look like me though.”

“And who am I supposed to be playing, exactly?” You questioned, still unsure as to what role you would be playing in this scheme.

“My partner,” Zemo said simply, an amused smile working his way onto his lips.

“What?! No! Nu-uh, I’m not doing that!” You protested, Sam chuckling at your denial of what was probably inevitable.

“Would you rather the alternative of all of us getting slaughtered the second we step foot into the city?” Zemo retorted, still humored by your resistance.

“Fine, but if you try anything I’m going to break your nose.” You gave in.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Soon, the four of you were making your way into a bar, Helmut’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist since the second you exited the car in a mock possessiveness. It was all part of the charade, you had to remind yourself, as the Baron kept your side pressed against his snugly.

Making your way up to the counter, the bartender didn’t look impressed to see the group of you there as he made his way over to you.

“Hello,” He began. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have a business to do, with Selby.” Zemo interjected before Sam could respond.

“The usual?” The bartender ignored Zemo and turned his attention back to Sam, who simply gave a curt nod in response. The bartender turned, grabbing a snake from a jar and slicing it down the underside with a blade. A part of you wanted to cackle, especially seeing Sam stiffen beside you, and you didn’t doubt that Bucky was having to restrain himself as well. Zemo didn’t seem surprised as the bartender pulled who knows what out from the snake and placed it into a glass.

“Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” The Baron commented, the bartender sliding Sam his beverage only to pour two glasses of a different liquor for Zemo and yourself.

“I love these,” Sam said, raising to clink glasses with yourself and the Sokovian man whose arm was still draped around you.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo replied, smiling back at poor Sam. The three of you downed your burning liquor, Sam struggling the most out of the three of you, clearly appalled by the organ at the bottom of his shot. You could see Bucky give a little nod in the corner of your eye, knowing he must be finding this as amusing as you were.

A man soon approached Helmut from behind, tapping him on the shoulder before he turned to face the stranger, shifting you with him. When Zemo felt the little nudge, he immediately pulled you closer to him. You were even tighter against him now, so much so that you had to wrap an arm around him as well to stabilize yourself. It was almost as if he was trying to shield you from the man despite him knowing full well that you can hold your own.

“I got word from on high; you ain’t welcome here.” He spat, getting too close to the two of you for either of your likings. But Zemo kept his air of indifference while you instinctually moved closer into his side. It’s all an act, remember? You have to play the part of the clingy partner who would get frightened at such a rough man threatening you two. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo began, trailing off as he gestured to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The strange man asked Bucky, who merely glowered in response.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished, this time him being the one to get into the man’s face. Thankfully that was enough to send him away, most likely to Selby or this Power Broker who seems to be Madripoor’s own version of Big Brother.

You could feel Zemo let out a breath that you don’t think he even knew he was holding, giving a quick glance down at you before placing a peck on your temple. For the facade, of course. But what wasn’t fake were the butterflies rise in your stomach, something that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Were you… Flustered?

No, you reminded yourself internally. This was a very bad man holding you close, the same one who killed the former King of Wakanda and ripped your team to shreds. Not only that, but he hated all the Avengers, so why did he seem to like you? It doesn’t matter whether or not he likes you, he’s Zemo. But the more time you spent with him, the more intoxicated you became. He was starting to look more and more like your next mistake, and love is certainly not a game you wanted to be playing with him. Right?

The next thirty or so minutes were a blur. Bucky having to fake being the Winter Soldier to kick a bunch of men’s asses to finally meeting up with Selby, only for Sam to break your cover through a phone call and Selby quickly being shot. The four of you promptly exited the bar, attempting to remain inconspicuous until bounty hunters from all around started shooting at you. Bucky and Sam jumped forward, meanwhile, Zemo darted to the right, dragging you with him as he moved his hand from your waist to interlock your fingers.

You cut through alleyway after alleyway, hiding in the shadows as gunfire echoed around you. Eventually, you managed to catch up with Bucky and Sam, approaching the pair with your hand still in his.

“Well this is too perfect.” A female voice interrupted your mini-reunion, Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows as she ripped down her hood, gun fixated on Zemo.

“Drop it Zemo,” She started, Zemo raising his gun-holding hand before lowering the weapon to the ground. “You cost me everything.”

“Sharon, wait.” You reasoned, raising your hand as you slowly backed up.

“What, are you his lover now? His sugar baby or some shit?” She badgered you, causing your eyes to widen as you only just remembered that you were still holding his hand. You quickly dropped it, raising it to match your other arm as Zemo sent you a look that you couldn’t decipher. Oh, how desperately you wanted to look into his mind, but the little bit of sanity left in you told you to leave it be.

“Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead,” Sam explained.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.” Sharon replied, gun still pointed at your group.

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky questioned the blonde.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass so that you could save his ass from his ass and became a criminal with their ass.” She explained, pointing the gun at each mention of whoever's ass it was that turn. “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up, so, I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke. I was on the run, too.” Sam rebutted Sharon’s complaints.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore - I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen…” You began. “Sharon, we need your help, the former agent only laughing in response. “Please.”

“This isn’t over.” She conceded, shaking her head at you. “I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

Sharon’s place was definitely nicer than yours is now, and you’re not even on the run anymore. She, thankfully, had a change of clothes for you to slip into, the soft material much a welcome relief from the tortuous item Zemo had you wearing.

While you were waiting for Sharon’s guests to begin arriving for whatever event would soon be taking place downstairs, everybody slowly filtered out of the room until it was only Zemo and yourself remaining.

“Can I ask you a question?” You spoke up, breaking the silence from your spot on the sofa as you glanced towards the Baron seated across the room.

“Ask away.” He smiled, taking a sip from the amber liquid in his glass.

“What did you mean earlier, when you said we were the same.” Your voice was quiet now, so much so that you weren’t sure if he’d even heard you. That is until he got up from his seat and slowly walked towards you.

“I never wanted to tear the Avengers apart, not until they killed my family. Destroyed my city… Sure, I didn’t like them, but I didn’t want to destroy them. It was all about vengeance.” He began, sitting beside you on the yellow fabric. “For you, it was HYDRA who ruined your life. You joined the Avengers because it was where the last people you had left were going and it was the easiest way for you to ensure the organization was destroyed. You never wanted the idolization that came with being a hero, and it was clear when your work was done that you had no desire to keep going. Everything that came after the Sokovia Accords was out of survival.”

“I’m not saying you're right,” you began, “but what would that make me, then? Insane? Cause that seems to be the running theory.”

“You’re not crazy, despite how rumors fly. Neither am I, really.” He began, eliciting a small smile from you at the last bit he added. “You’re a fighter, someone doing whatever it takes to get their agenda done. Whether that means breaking the law or joining the Avengers, nothing will stop you once you put your mind to it - it’s one of the things I admire about you.”

You pursed your lips as you focused on the amber fluid floating in its crystalline home, him taking another sip of the burning liquid. Your gaze shifted back to his face, and oh god, look at that face. Maybe it was the liquor in your system already or maybe your last bit of sanity was finally escaping your mind, but suddenly his past didn’t seem to matter anymore. You had plenty of red on your ledger as well, and the more he spoke the more you began to sympathize with him.

“So you admire me?” You smirked, crossing your arms as you tilted your head slightly to the right playfully.

“Why don’t you look into my mind and tell me?” He replied. Reaching out, you gently placed your fingers against his temple as you gazed into his consciousness. Flashes of magic and madness, ideas of a love that could be forever or go down in flames. You didn’t go searching deeper, because your own mind was racing. Would pursuing this be worth all the pain that could very well follow? No, not could, would. You’d be betraying your former teammates, but what did that matter much anymore.

Rather than pulling your hand away, you placed your lips gently on his, tentatively, even. He tasted of expensive liquor and a hint of peppermint, and you found yourself intoxicated. The kiss ended far too soon for your liking, him pulling away so his brown orbs could gaze into your own.

“So… What do you say?” He asked, cupping your cheek in his hand, you place your own over top of his.

“Why not?” You smiled back, reconnecting your lips to his.

“I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.”

Taglist:

@fanfictionedagain @lam-ila @b0nnyzz @haydieenzzibug @cyanide-mustard @duchess-of-new-shire @the-chocoholic-writer @milenadixon @real-fbi @golddenlioness

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Sinclair Brothers Au X Reader (F)

Highschool Au with the Sinclair Brothers. Fluff and Angst. Bo mentions sexual stuff but in a joking manner.

They have a crush on you while you're dating someone else.

SFW, Fluff, and Angst.

Bo Sinclair - Female Reader dating Lester

He hated this. His stinky, stupid little brother just had to bring his girlfriend over. You’re supposed to be his girlfriend. You just never got the memo.

Lester had the biggest smile on his face as you and him sat next to each other at the dinner table. Vincent wasn’t paying attention, too engrossed in his gumbo and comic book while Bo sat there shooting daggers at his brother. Thank god Bo is always in a pissy mood around his family, they thought nothing of his sneer.

Bo watched with fury whenever he caught Lester leaning in close to you. His brown eyes look at you with adoration. Could tell when Lester ran his hand up and down your thigh, thinking he was being slick. Amateur.

“Y’know, Y/N, ever since you’ve started dating Les, he’s been showering. See Trudy, told ya it’d take a girlfriend to get him to act human.” Lester went bright red and looked down in embarrassment.

“Victor! What you mean is it’s nice to see Lester so happy he’s just showing us all just how happy.” Trudy knew what Victor said was right, just it broke her heart to see Lester’s face fall at his words.

“Let’s hope it lasts,” Victor mumbled.

“It won’t,” replied Bo.

“Beauregard! Can you not?” Trudy fumed. Bo stood up from the table not wanting to be a part of the awkward tension that was dinner. He stole a glance at you as he walked away. He swore he saw it, that look. The look of “Please don’t leave.”

He lied in bed, not wanting to listen to your laughter downstairs, Lester singing your praises, how you both planned on going out Friday night for another date. Fuck.

That night it was Vincent who went to Check up on Bo. Your Twin will just know when something is off.

“She looked at me, y’know. I could read her eyes. She didn’t want me away from her.” Bo said with a smug knowing tone. Vincent shook his head and signed,

“She probably felt bad, felt awkward, it was her first time here.”

“Ya, well, let’s hope it’s her last.”

Vincent turned towards the door. He slumped his shoulders. Bo took in what Vincent was staring at. His stupid stinky little brother. Lester’s eyes, usually so vibrant, were downcast, a little glossy even.

“...Just because you hate her, Bo…” Lester couldn’t finish before he walked away from his older brothers, cursing himself for not sticking up for you.

Vincent gave Bo a knowing look and left.

Bo stewed on his bed, remembering when he first fell for you. Mrs. Power had partnered you up in science class. Bo wasn’t the best partner, he never did the work but he sure could make you laugh. When you first laughed at one of his jokes, be it from genuine humor or just being nice, Bo fell in love.

Then why didn’t he ask you out? Why did he have to date those other girls instead of you? Would be an ass to you in front of his friends but sweet on ya when it was just you and him. Why did Lester have to bug him at his lockers? Lester had immediately taken a shine to you right then and there. Why did you have to fall for his stupid stinky little brother, the one who used axe body spray like a shower? The weird one who collected roadkill and was friends with the employees at the dump.

How in the hell could his brother think he hated you. You. Warm, funny, kind you.

Bo doesn’t hate you. He wishes he did...

Lester Sinclair - Female Reader dating Metalhead Vincent

Lester made his way to Bo’s truck. Dodging past his peers and moving cars, Bo always parked the furthest away in the student parking lot. He wanted his car right at the exit so he could get the hell out of school asap.

“Hey, Bo!”

“Hey, Rat boy.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that.”

“What? You are our Rat boy.” Lester hated his brother. But he was Lester’s ride home so he never pushed a disagreement too far.

The two stood in awkward silence just waiting. Bo broke the silence with a huff. “The Freak is probably three deep in her right now.” Normally Lester would laugh at such a crude remark but it involved you. He didn’t want to treat you as some faceless girl the guys joked about being ‘loose’

“That freak better hurry up, he has a doctor’s app in an hour. And Dad likes it when a patient gets there early. Crotchety old man…”

Lester just stood there, remembering the last skin graft surgery and how the skin didn’t take to Vincent at all. Vincent tried his best to hide the pain, the physical and mental, but late one night he could hear his brother sobbing a room away.

“You know since he started dating, Y/N, he’s been less nervous about these appointments. Fine by me, I can’t stand when his ass gets all moppy.”

Lester knew what Bo meant. Bo got just as nervous as Vincent and vice versa. It was some weird twin thing they shared.

“There’s the fucker!” Bo pointed you and Vincent out. Lester had seen you and Vincent countless times together and every time he saw you both it felt like the first time all over again. That twist in his gut and pain in his throat. He remembers the first time he saw you with Vincent. You were acting all shy around Vincent’s metalhead buddies. They kept patting Vincent on the back,

“Good job, man!”

“Didn’t think you’d get a cute one.”

“Hey, Y/N, got any friends?”

Vincent wore his wax facial prosthetic covering most of his face but Lester knew that his brother was as red as a tomato.

Lester remembers meeting you in geography class. In the same group tasked to map out the local park. You and Lester buddied up, mapping the wooded trail. “Oh, Lester look, frog bones!” You quickly covered your mouth, embarrassed at pointing out something so weird but Lester fell in love. A girl into vulture culture? Perfect. You and Lester looked around for more bones, finding none. You handed him the frog skull. “Here, a memento of this weird day.” You smiled as you said it, Lester knowing you wanted to say more but fear of sounding sappy took over you.

Lester should have known it was the beginning of the end of the night you stopped by to drop off his assignments after he had been sick with mono. Instead of Lester at the door greeting you, it was his long hair, covered in judas priest-like stud bracelets and, Metallica shirt-wearing brother.

“Hi, Vincent! Huh, these are for Lester, do you mind giving these to him?” Lester wanted to scream out to you but with his groggy state wouldn’t allow it. He had no idea what Vincent was attempting to say to you, Vincent could speak but it was horse and quiet. Lester fell back asleep, your laughter from downstairs should have been soothing, should have made him feel better, but knowing it was because of Vincent…

You and Vincent were hand in hand making your way to Bo’s truck. Bo wore a straight face while Lester hid his disdain. “Hey, Lester!” You shouted with a smile! Damn it, Lester tried to hide his blush, he turned his head around to make sure you didn't catch it.

“Y/N, wanna ride home? If so, hurry up, Candle Head has an appointment.”

Vincent flipped Bo off and helped you into the truck. You snuggled together in the back seat of the car, Vincent nuzzling into your hair and murmuring sweet nothings.

Bo gave Lester a look, smirking at Lester’s scowling.

Vincent grumbled as Bo pulled up to your place. He tapped Bo on the shoulder and Bo nodded, understanding his brother without words.

Vincent walked you to your door, his large hand holding yours. You kept looking up to Vincent, smiling and giggling.

“Les, you can stop scowling.” Said Bo.

Lester grumbled.

“If it helps you, do it for now. Just learn to get over it. Vincent has never been happier. When Candle Head is happy, I feel it. When he’s sad, I feel it. So just let Vincent have this. Besides, you chickened out on asking her.”

Lester ignored his brother and watched you and Vincent. “Oh shit, haha, Hey Candle Head! Nice one!” Bo shouted out the window to his brother, making Lester’s ear ring in the process.

Lester watched as Vincent removed some of his wax prosthetic and gave you a deep kiss. His stomach churned, his heart stopped, his head felt full and his left ear was still ringing.

Bo was right. Lester had chickened out. He had so many opportunities to ask you out but his insecurities got the best of him. He couldn’t be too mad, Vincent was happy for the first time in years. He’d learn to be happy for his brother, but not happy at losing out on you.

Vincent Sinclair - Female Reader dating Bo.

“Hey, Vin, want some? Vin?” Vincent stared intently, eye not leaving you. Lester spoke up “Hey, Candle Head?” Vincent whipped his head at his little brother, he had his prosthetic on but Lester knew he was scowling. “Hey, got yer attention. Want some of this?” Lester shoved a funnel cake in his brother's face. Before Vincent could react “Well, too bad, you’ll have to get yer own.”

God, Vincent hated his brother sometimes. Speaking of brothers. Bo had you under his arm, shouting over your head to one of his friends “Ya, see you later, no, much later, I’ll be busy!” He leaned down to kiss your cheek “Busy with you, Dollface.” Vincent loved your laughter, just hated when it was Bo who made you laugh.

“Hey, Candle Head, gotta fiver?”

“Bo, don’t call him that, it's mean.”

“It’s a family thing, Candle Head don't mind, right?”

“Stop it, Bo!”

Bo scoffed at you and sneered at Vincent. “I’m gonna bum us some food.” He said to you as he kissed you on the forehead. Bo slammed his shoulder into his brother as he walked by. Vincent stood firm, his wider frame feeling nothing against his brother.

Walking up to Vinny you placed your hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for him. I know he’s your twin but he still doesn’t have to be that mean.” Vincent shrugged his shoulders, hands deep in his pockets. He fought the strong urge to pull you into him, hold your head into his chest and never let you go. He hated himself for being so sappy over you but he really couldn’t help it.

Vincent remembered when he first met you, the school library after class time. He was looking for an art history book. He saw you in the same aisle, grabbing scanning for what he remembers was ‘a book about frogs’ It was for your science class. Vincent walked over to you, did his best to speak, and ask what you needed. You excitedly told him, which shocked him. Mostly because, even though he talks to girls, they are never happy to talk to him. You rambled on and on to him, how annoyed you were at your stupid science partner, Bo. Vincent laughed, explaining to you that was his stupid brother.

“I feel like an ass. Sorry.” You sighed and hid your face behind your hands. Vincent assured you that it was okay and Bo is an asshole. If Bo was an asshole, why did you have to start dating him?

He remembers when Bo snapped at you in the hallway, the embarrassment was all over your face. Remembers when Bo stood you up on a date. You came into school the next day cussing out Bo. He called you a bitch and from that moment on he found a new sense of hatred for his twin.

“Hey, Candle Head, get yer own girlfriend, Babe, get over here.” Vincent gave you a sad look as you returned one to him. You ran into Bo’s arms and he spun you around, careful not to drop the red snow cone in his hand. “See, Babe, Red, so we both can enjoy it.” You giggled sweetly at him, he held it up to you, pushing it into your nose.

“Bo!” You scolded but laughed as he kissed the red juice off the tip of your nose.

Vincent’s feet felt like lead. He wanted nothing more than to walk away and not look at the gut-wrenching scene, but seeing you bashful and just got to Vincent. He’d give anything to have that be you and him. Give anything to go back to the day he met you and ask you out himself.

“Come on, Candle Head, we need one more person for the strawberry twirly ride thing,” Bo called out, gesturing for Vincent to follow. You turned to Vincent and grinned at him.

“Come on, Vinny!” For you, Vincent would follow. No matter how much it hurts.

[daniyanii]

Yandere Itachi

Despite traveling to every village far and wide he had never seen a woman, let alone person like her.

Her hair was new, her facial features, skin and personality. It was just so intriguing to Itachi, he couldn't help but be enchanted by it.

He found himself risking his cover much more than usual. He had began at first sneaking in a few times a month to check on her for a few minutes but eventually it became a nightly hobby.

He would come right when her sensei dismissed the team and shadow over her while walking home. After he would watch through windows while she moved about and finally once he was sure she was sleep...he would sneak in and watch.

He noticed many things about the girl while observing. She didn't have not one single friend in the village, not even her teammates. She seemed to just tolerate everyone while they shunned her and outcasted her. She didn't ever seemed too fazed by it though, almost as if she was used to it and okay with such treatment.

It angered and upset Itachi, but surprisingly no one had ever put their hands on her. Most people looked at her like she was disease ridden so many just glared from far away and clutched their kids and valuables closer.

She had never been touched,..... until today.

Itachi was watching (Y/n) take her usual peaceful and silent walk home. He did notice that she was extra drained on chakra today, and looked like she could drop any minute. Which already had him on edge but he was soon pushed right off the cliff when a heavily drunk man stumbled over to her caressing her body

Despite the few pushes and slaps you got in he caught your wrists in one hand and was using the other to roam your body. All while placing sloppy, wet kisses on your neck.

In seconds the man collapsed to the ground without as much as a peep. You were thankful of course and you didn't even wanna know why. Just count this as a blessing and run! You thought to yourself. But after the first step you took a tall man in an eerily long coat with red clouds on it appeared directly in front of you.

'Oh great I avoided the flames just to die from the smoke' you thought to yourself

" If you wanna fight, be my guest." you said with your hands in your pockets and looked directly at him with a questioning glare

"No, I just wanted to ensure you're safety." Itachi vaguely answered, feeling as if was going to faint since after months of obsession and stalking he was finally talking to you.

"Why?" you asked, trying to see through him, too bad you weren't a Hyuga.

"Because, you're the teammate of my little brother, and if he is fond of you then so am I. Now may I please escort you home?" Itachi asked bored

'This guy does kinda look like Sasuke but....hotter. He seems pretty strong so I guess I'll go'  you thought quickly and recklessly in your tired state

All you did was nod, but then a thought ran through your head.

' Didn't sasuke say his brother murdered his entire clan and was a rouge ninja,essentially in a gang?!'

But before you could  protest he already had a grip on your arm, performing a transportation jutsu effortlessly.

*YOUR POV*

I opened my eyes immediately to see that I wasn't in my home. Before I could think I heard the heavy steel door shut and lock.

Instant panic.  

 

"Calm down, my love. I put that there so you don't even try and run. We can finally be together, no distractions" He whispered out, coming closer and I moved away

" What the hell are you talking about?! This is all just some sick joke to lure Sasuke out isn't it?" I said the most rational thought in my head

"Quite the contrary, if I wanted Sasuke I would have cut straight to the chase and took him. At first I thought my destiny was to live out my days until Sasuke killed me but once I saw you all that changed." Itachi slowly walked over, grabbing my hands in his. All I could was stare and think

'bruh what the hell did he just say?'

"My new fate is to spend the rest of my days here with you. You are the most important thing to me now. You mean more that the Akatsuki, taming the nine tails....even Sasuke." He confessed lowly which had my eye wide as saucers

I stepped back and snatched my hands from his cold embrace.

"Look I don't know what type of fucked up game you're playing but don't expect me to go along with it. I'm supposed to be your "new destiny" but we've never even met before." I spoke cautiously but still shooting him a glare

"Well we know eachother now and in due time you'll learn to love me, since I'll be the only face you see for a long time..." Itachi smiled and it wasn't even a crazy or fake one, it was.....genuine

'I need to get the fuck ASAP'

"Well except for when you end up carrying my child then of course it'll be all three, or four of us. Though I doubt we'll have more than two." He smirked at me and there was no mistaking that look.....it's lust.

"What do you mean? I would never carry your child or anyone else's for that matter. Also, you killed off your clan, why would I birth more just so could kill them too."

"I would never hurt something me and you created. Especially, in such a sacred way." He put his surprisingly large hand on my cheek and caressed my face.

"Plus, think of them as a gift from me. A reminder of the times we'll share, and that even in death I'm still here. Sasuke always wanted to help revive the clan, I'm just helping him out too. And when I leave this Earth they will serve and protect you. And eventually.... free you."

[musette22]

Local museum volunteer Chris explaining all the items and history facts to teacher Sebastian and his 20 kids on a school trip or to single dad Sebastian and his twins (one who is really into it and ask a lot of "but why?" And the other one who just sticks his fingers up his nose and yawns lmao)

Okay so I was just on a walk and I started thinking about this ask again (I am so so so sorry for how long it took me to reply to this, I suck wow) because I couldn’t get that new pic of Seb looking like a literal DILF out of my head, but I couldn’t remember the specifics so what came out is slightly different from what you suggested but not much – hope you still like it (I personally screamed into my fist multiples times while thinking about this – I’m furious at how cute this little scenario is, thank you so so much for this!)

Disclaimer: I literally wrote this just now so it’s unbeta’d and probably riddled with nonsense, but I hope you guys like nonetheless!  <3

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

“Hi, guys! Welcome to the Concord Museum. My name is Chris and I’ll be your guide this afternoon.”

Chris eyes the little family – a father and two young kids – standing in front of him in the entrance hall of the bite-sized museum, then makes a show of looking around the otherwise empty hall. “Seems like it’s a quiet one today, so you’ll have me all to yourself!”

The father smiles, his sparkling, blue-grey eyes crinkling in the corners in a way that Chris shouldn’t be thinking of as ‘adorable’, but does nonetheless.

“Fantastic,” the man says warmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Chris. This is Margot,” – he gestures to the girl of about eight standing next to him – “and this little guy here is David,” he adds, lightly bouncing the three or four-year-old, curly haired boy on his hip. David gives Chris a wide eyed look before promptly burying his face in his father’s neck. “He’s a little shy,” the dad says fondly.

“That’s fine,” Chris tells them. With a smile, he ducks his head to try and catch David’s eye. “You’re not the only one, kiddo. I’m a little shy myself sometimes, you know.”  

“I’m not shy,” Margot pipes up.

“No,” her dad agrees with a chuckle, “you certainly are not.”

Chris turns his eyes back to their father’s face. “And your name..?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man says, “I’m Sebastian.” He holds out his hand for Chris to shake, warm and dry with long, elegant fingers that fit nicely against Chris’s own, studier ones.

Sebastian, Chris thinks. Perfect name for a perfect guy. The term ‘DILF’ flashes unbidden through Chris’s mind – wildly inappropriate, given the circumstances, but oh so accurate. Sebastian has a sweet, charming smile, incredible bone structure, and dark, wavy hair, swept up in a quiff-like style that manages to make him look both sophisticated and a little boyish at the same time. There’s a hint of grey at his temples as well as in his beard that has Chris placing him at maybe two or three years older than himself.

“New York?” Chris guesses, as he reluctantly lets go of Sebastian’s hand.

“That’s right,” Sebastian nods. “Well, formerly, anyway. We just moved to the area, actually.”

“Oh, really? What brought you all the way out here?”

Sebastian runs a hand through his hair; a nervous habit, perhaps. “Oh, um. My ex-wife got a job in Boston last year, and I didn’t want to be too far from her and the kids, so I decided to follow suit. Only moved down here last month. This is my first full weekend with these guys at my new place, so I thought I’d take them out to do something cultural, learn a little about the local history, y’know?”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of that here,” Chris assures him. “In fact,” he adds sheepishly, “that’s kinda all we've got.”

Sebastian laughs, causing Chris’s brain to glitch, which is probably why the next thing that comes out of his mouth is – “Divorce, huh? I’m sorry, that must’ve been tough.”

When Sebastian doesn’t answer straight away, Chris wants to kick himself for running his big, stupid mouth. As usual. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes hastily. “That’s none of my business. Just tryin’ to make small talk, but I always seem to forget I’m really bad at that. Just forget I said anything.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sebastian assures him, flashing Chris a quick smile. “Thank you. These things are never easy, but it’s better this way, you know?”

“They’re not fighting or anything,” Margot chimes in again, from a few feet below. “Mommy and daddy only got divorced because mommy’s a girl and daddy likes boys better than girls. Right, daddy?"

Well. Chris tries not to be too obvious about glancing at Sebastian’s face to see his reaction to that bombshell his daughter just dropped, but he’s not sure how well he manages.

Sebastian closes his eyes for a moment as if praying for strength. “That's right, sweetheart,” he says with a grimace. “But I'm sure Chris doesn't need to hear about all that."

Chris begs to differ – he’s actually extremely interested in hearing about all this, but before he has a chance to say anything in reply, Margot squares her jaw and crosses her football jersey-clad arms.

“Why not?” she asks defiantly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Some girls just like girls and some boys like boys, it’s totally normal. It’s not prola- probu –" She sighs in frustration, looking up at her dad, who’s watching her with something like pride on his handsome face.

“Problematic?”

“Yeah,” Margot concurs, “not probametic.”  

Chris hums in agreement. “It’s not, you’re absolutely right. I’ll tell you what,” he tells her conspiratorially, “I happen to like boys better, too.”

Margot’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You do?”

“I do.”

Suddenly, Margot’s little face lights up, her shrewd eyes flitting to her dad’s face for a second, then back to Chris. “Do you like my dad?”

“Margot,” Sebastian cuts in, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “That’s enough, honey.” When he tuns back to Chris to give him an apologetic look, Chris can’t help but notice the slight blush coloring his cheeks. “I’m sorry about that. She’s gotten it into her head that she needs to find me the perfect man ASAP, or I’ll waste away or something.”

Chris laughs, throwing back his head in genuine mirth. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine,” he assures them, then claps his hands together to change the precarious subject. “So, who’s ready to learn a little bit about what living in Concord was like over a hundred years ago?”

******

Chris always enjoys volunteering at the museum – it’s nice to give something back to the community that’s been his home for his entire life, and to chat to visitors from all over who have come to visit the land of Little Women, among other things – but what Chris likes best is when he gets to show kids around the place. Some of them need to be won over (after all, a dusty old museum isn’t quite as exciting as a trip to Disney World), but others are instantly captivated by the strange objects and old-timey atmosphere – Sebastian’s kids, fortunately, seem to fall in the latter category.

There’s one room in particular that’s an invariably a favorite with kids – the one that houses the old children’s toys. Trains, dolls and dollhouses, most of them made from wood, all arranged in a colorful parade, with a few screens set up in front of the glass display cases on which kids can watch animations of the toys being used. To Chris’s delight, Margot and David are both immediately taken with the display, David pressing his nose against the glass while Margot fires off question after question that Chris answers patiently and to the best of his ability.

“You sure know a lot about them,” Sebastian remarks, not without a hint of admiration, once Chris has finished explaining the mechanics of the miniature train set.

“Ah.” Chris rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you could say I’m something of a toy enthusiast myself. I’ve actually got a carpentry workshop – that’s my real job,” he explains. “I’m just a volunteer here – and I dabble in some toy making sometimes, too.”

Sebastian’s eyes widen. “You’re kidding. I used to want to be a toy maker when I was a kid, you know,” he says wistfully. “Probably just saw Pinocchio one too many times, but it just seemed like the best job in the world to me, at the time.”

“It kinda is,” Chris grins at Sebastian, getting lost in his dancing grey eyes for a moment. “So what did you end up doing for a living, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m a journalist. I love it, don’t get me wrong. It’s enriching, challenging. But there’s just something about working with your hands, creating something tangible, something useful…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Chris nods. He bites his lip, hesitating for just a moment before deciding to bite the bullet. “Hey, I don’t know if you guys have plans after this, but my shift ends in a few minutes. I live pretty close, maybe a ten minute drive – if you want, I could show you my workshop? Maybe the kids can try out some of the things I’ve been working on, see if they’re actually any fun to play with?”

There’s an excited collective gasp from the kids, both of them immediately turning big, hopeful eyes on their father. “Oh, daddy,” Margot pleads, tugging on his sleeve. “Can we go see the workshop, pleaaase?”  

Chris tries to ignore the way his stomach drops when Sebastian visibly hesitates.

“I don’t know, guys.” Sebastian looks back at Chris. “I don't want to intrude. It’s almost dinner time on a Saturday. I’m sure you’ve got plans, maybe with your partner..?”

Oh, Chris thinks, chest expanding with hope. He shakes his head. “No partner,” he says, holding Sebastian’s gaze. “Just a dog.”

“A dog?” Margot squeals. “Oh my god, daddy, he’s got a dog. We have to go.”

Sebastian chuckles, rolling his eyes. "They've been hounding me about a dog for months, excuse the pun. I want one too, but I'm just not sure I'm home enough.”

Chris nods sympathetically. “Yeah, it can be tricky if you work full-time, but there’s usually a solution for this kind of thing, in my experience.”

“What’s your dog’s name?” Margot interrupts, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet.

“He’s called Dodger,” Chris tells her, unable to keep the pride out of his voice as he talks about his beloved, four legged-rescue.

From Sebastian’s other side, a small voice suddenly joins in. “Like the one from Oliver?” asks David. His big, brown eyes are wide as he stares up at Chris.

“That’s right,” Chris confirms, dropping to his haunches to level the playing field a little. “Exactly like the one from Oliver. You like that movie, huh?”

David nods, looping one arm around one of his dad’s long legs while clearly fighting the urge to hide behind him completely. “It’s my favorite,” he mutters, then quickly sticks his thumb in his mouth to signal the end of the conversation.

“Really?” Chris asks, beaming at him. “It’s my favorite, too!”

David actually smiles at that, doing an excited little wiggle on the spot. “Daddy, can we go see Dodger, please?” he asks his dad, not bothering to remove his thumb from his mouth.

From his spot on the floor, Chris looks up Sebastian too, probably looking just as hopeful as the kids are – maybe even more so.

Smiling, Sebastian shakes his head. “Sure, buddy,” he laughs, ruffling David’s hair. “How could I resist all these cute little faces, huh?”

There’s a chorus of cheers from the kids that gives Chris a much-needed moment to recover from the euphoria of hearing Sebastian call him cute. Well, sort of.

“Alright,” Chris says, getting to his feet again. “I’ll just go grab my things. Meet you guys in the parking lot?”

“Sounds good.”

Chris nods and is about to head in the direction of the staff room, when Sebastian halts him with a hand on his arm. Chris stops in his tracks, swallowing as he tears his gaze away from Sebastian’s elegant hand on his bicep, back to his face.

“Thank you,” Sebastian says, giving him a look from under his eyelashes that can only be described as coy. “I really appreciate this, you know.”

Holding Sebastian’s gaze, Chris lifts a hand to cover Sebastian’s with his own, giving it a quick squeeze. “It’s my pleasure,” he replies honestly. “Trust me.”

Smiling, Sebastian bites his lip, no doubt noticing the way Chris’s eyes flicker down to his mouth when he does. “I do.”

Chris’s foolishly romantic heart can’t help but skip a beat.

“See,” Margot says suddenly from beside them, breaking the moment and sounding awfully smug about it, too. “Not prolametic at all.”

Chris barks out a laugh while Sebastian covers his eyes with his hand. “Whatever you do, never have kids.”  

“Oh, I dunno,” Chris chuckles, giving Margot a wink and David’s hair a quick ruffle. “I kinda like yours.”

Sebastian clears his throat. “Alright, guys. Let’s go find your jackets and we’ll go see what Chris has in store for us, huh?”

[anyoneseenadam]

Home: Chapter Six

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing, THIS PART HAS SMUT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED but it is very soft 

word count: 3.2k

dress featured: x

a/n: this part was gonna be super fluffy and lovely but of course i cant do that so it’s quite angsty lol sorry. BUt Percabeth make an appearance and we love them so I think that evens it out :) I also apologise if there are any mistakes I wanted to get this out ASAP because I have exams coming up :( pls comment it genuinely makes my day i get so happy when people comment, anyway enjoy!

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

Azriel wasn’t entirely sure he would ever get over ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’, or any other Marvel movies for that matter, having cried when Bucky was revealed, or when Pietro died making you practically piss yourself with laughter as you muttered something along the lines of “Just wait.”

When the sun began to rise you had turned the laptop off, pulling him in tightly as you pulled the thick duvet over you and proceeded to snore softly with your head pressed over his heart and your other hand reaching out and clutching your favourite soft toy. He thinks he maybe got three hours of sleep, but he laid with you the whole morning, addicted to the heat emitting from you and the way the whole room seemed to be resting as you slept, the breeze swaying the curtains matching that of your gentle breaths and the plants drooping as they too relaxed.

When you did wake, Azriel found his way between your legs, determined to wake you up properly. Your soft cries were like music to his ears, and he made you cum three times before you were pushing his shoulders away, shaking from over-stimulation, and climbing on top of him, sinking down slowly, letting yourself feel every inch. As he sat back, his hands resting on your waist to guide you when you became breathless, holding tightly and occasionally thrusting up into you when the pace became to slow for his taste. You reached a hand to his wings as his thumb found your clit, and you kissed sloppily as you searched for release.

Soon, you fell on top of him as he grunted, hips stalling as you whined into his open mouth. He slowly pulled out and wrapped his arms tightly around your middle, the two of you laying silently simply enjoying the others presence. You soon looked up at him and gave him a breathless smile, pecking his jaw, before swinging your legs over the side of the bed and grabbing a robe of the floor. You made your way to the record player and filled the room with the sound of the Bee Gee’s, Azriel closing his eyes and letting the foreign sounds consume him. You sat down at your vanity and started putting on your jewellery, all the movements practiced, and he cracked open an eye watching you string necklaces with crystals hanging from them around your neck. He laughed as you sang along to the song, flirty eyes catching his as you swayed from side to side.

“More than a woman…” you sang softly as you pulled lacy panties up your legs and rubbed fruity lotion into your legs and hands, waving your hands to dry them before pushing of numerous rings. He sat up in bed, watching you intently as you moved to your wardrobe and pulled out a pretty off-the-shoulder, white dress with frills and faint flowers decorating it. You dropped your robe and pulled on the dress, shaking your hair out and turning to walk over to him. The golden light from the window coated you and you look like you belonged in the Day Court as your skin was cast in the glow, it seemed to weave around you alike a halo and he was struck by how angelic you looked.

“I’m gonna go wash my face,” you said, pressing quick kiss to his lips and giggling sweetly when he tried to chase your mouth for more, pulling away and leaving the room, blowing a kiss in his direction.

He stood, a love-drunk smile on his face as he went about finding his boxers from the night before and pulling them on, grimacing at the tight fit, before he wandered to the drawer you had pulled them from, laughing when he found men’s joggers as well and pulling them on. When he turned to find a top he was instead greeted by a middle-aged man in running gear. He reached for truth-teller, moving into a fighting stance, his shadows swarming around him menacingly and silently begged that you would stay in the bathroom to avoid seeing any blood.

“At ease Azriel, I won’t hurt you.” The strange man said, not actually looking at him and instead typing furiously on his phone.

“How did you get in here?” Azriel asked gruffly, assessing the man to see if he had weapons.

The man waved a hand through the air dismissively, “You are not supposed to be here you know.”

“What do you mean?” He was still uncomfortable at the fact the man knew his name, and now he was insinuating that he knew that Azriel wasn’t from this world.

“Stupid Aphrodite and her hopeless ideals messing up the routes so you could meet (y/n). The fates won’t be happy if you don’t return soon, and even worse Persephone will lose it if she thinks her daughter has been dragged into any messy situations like this, so you boy, are going home, come on.” He beckoned to Azriel, but he didn’t budge.

“Who are you?” He demanded as the man rolled his eyes.

“Hermes, messenger God, now come on I don’t have all day.”

“What did you mean by the fates?”

Hermes sighed deeply, muttering something about a pay raise under his breath before he finally looked up at Azriel. “Some soulmates simply just aren’t meant to meet I’m afraid, why do you think we wrote so many tragedies. If a Greek is born lucky enough to have a soulmate they will likely be from another world, and that means they cannot be together. I know you think she is your mate, but she must stay here, she’s not even immortal it would be cruel. I told Aphrodite to not let you two meet and that it would just end in heart-break, but she didn’t listen, felt bad for the girl or something, but either way you need to leave now.”

Azriel opened his mouth to reply but couldn’t find the words, you really were his, his mate, but now he was being told that he couldn’t be with you. He tried to reply again but before he could you were floating back into the room, smiling widely when you saw Hermes.

“Hermes, long time no see. What calls you to my humble abode?” you asked, moving to Azriel’s side and laughing when he still didn’t put down his dagger, “It’s okay Az, Hermes is actually one of the nicer ones.”

Hermes laughed at the compliment, but sadness shone in his eyes as he looked upon you.

“You look happy,” he said, a regretful look suddenly over-coming his features, yet Azriel couldn’t feel any sympathy for the man that was going to hurt his mate.

“I am.” You said, gazing up at Azriel with soft eyes, and Hermes placed his buzzing phone in his back pocket.

“My child, it’s time for Azriel to leave,” he said softly, your head whipping around to look at him.

“What?” The sharpness of your tone surprised Azriel. He had grown used to your soft side that spoke to flowers and baked homemade bread, but now he was remembering the broken part of you that was part God and build walls up in seconds. He placed a hand on your lower back as the room suddenly shuddered under your power, all plants awakening.

“You two were never meant to meet, Aphrodite just wanted you to meet him after your fall, but she forgot that he would have to return, I’m so sorry.” Your eyes filled with tears as you tried to make sense of what was happening, snarling at the God.

“No but this has nothing to do with the Gods, it- he got here on his own, we met by chance,” You were shaking as you tried to explain, sadness and confusion battling anger, and Azriel thought he could hear his heart break.

“I’m sorry child, I have to take him back. He only got here because of Aphrodite.” You were shaking your head, tears flowing freely now, gripping his arm and Hermes approached.

“NO, no there must be another way, please don’t take him from me! I need him, I love him, please don’t do this!” Hermes, shockingly, also appeared to be close to tears as he rested his hand on Azriel’s shoulder, his body going numb as he was pulled from you, unable to fight back.

“(y/n), baby, I’m sorry, I’ll figure this out okay I promise. I’m not leaving you here.” He didn’t think he would ever feel this much pain again as he watched the woman he loved sob, trying desperately to hold onto him as he was pulled from her world, the image of her collapsing to her knees as he was wrenched from her grip becoming imprinted in his mind.

--

He was gone. He was gone and you were alone again.

The scuffed wooden floor below you was cool as you pressed your forehead against it, sobs racking your body. You pushed yourself up and sat against the wall, checking the time on the clock. 15 minutes. You would cry for 15 minutes and then you would get him back. To many times you have just accepted your fate, but you couldn’t this time, you and Azriel met for a reason there had to be something. You wouldn’t let the anger and fear swallow you again.

When 15 minutes had past you forced your self to stand, wiping your eyes with your hand before searching for tissues. When you had blown your nose, you found an old notebook and grabbed your pen. A list, a list would organise your thoughts, you could find a loophole something had to work. You wrote down every theory you had, every book you would have to look in and every person you had to ask, sniffling, and rubbing the tears from your eyes. When you were done you found the backup burner phone you kept for emergencies and found Annabeth’s number. She picked up on the third ring and you took in a shaking breath.

“I think I need your help.”

--

Hermes left Azriel on the outskirts of Velaris, strangely back in his Illyrian leathers, he had apologised again, true sadness shining in his eyes, but Azriel just growled as feeling returned to his limbs. Hermes looked as if he wanted to say something but decided not to and with that left.

As Azriel shot off the ground he was struck with a sharp pain in his chest, as if being apart from her was physically paining him. He flew over his home, the city he had grown to love but even the feeling of coming home couldn’t distract from the cold that was seeping into his bones. He would destroy the Gods themselves before he let them take you from him and he fought a snarl as he pictured the hell he would make them pay for making you cry.

He landed outside the town house but before he could even open the door the wind was knocked out of him as Cassian barrelled into him in what was either a really rough hug or a tackle, it was hard to tell with Cassian sometimes.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN IT’S BEEN WEEKS?!” he winced as Cassian yelled right in his ear, shoving him off him as the rest of his family, minus Amren, surrounded him. Feyre was next to hug him and he returned his High Lady’s embrace, when she pulled away he met Rhysand’s eyes, and he saw the sadness in Azriel’s, shocked as Azriel rarely let any emotion show on his face.

“C’mon lets go inside,” Rhys said, outstretching an arm for his wife. Mor, holding Nyx, followed them in and Cassian who was still glaring at Azriel grabbed his arm and tugged him in, grumbling under his breath about how Azriel hadn’t even sent a letter.

When they were all sat, including Amren who apparently just couldn’t be bothered to come greet him as she knew he was coming her way anyway, Feyre asked him what happened. His eyes instinctively found Elain where she sat huddled in the corner of an armchair, and as he took in her spectacular beauty, all he could think of was how no one compared to you. No one compared to your callused hands that had seen many fights and handled many weapons, or your scarred back that only proved how strong you truly were. No amount of beauty could ever compare to you when you had completely stolen his heart, it didn’t help that you were also the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

He paused, a small part of him wanting to keep you a secret as he feared Cassian’s flirting and the prospect of losing the woman he loved again, but as he looked upon where Cassian sat with nothing but worry for his brother in his eyes, Nesta perched next to him, back straight as usual but a hand in his brother’s, he realised he was being ridiculous. He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath, fiddling with his hands as he told his family everything.

--

Percy had forgotten how much he loved (y/n)’s cottage. It always smelt of cinnamon in winter and roses in summer and it usually had the second-best homemade goods her had ever eaten, their only flaw being the lack of blue food colouring. But he didn’t have time to dwell on how he had missed the house too much as Annabeth pulled him through the door and into (y/n)’s kitchen where she sat staring with the blank look on her face that Percy knew meant something had gone horribly wrong. She looked up when they entered and stood, practically falling into Annabeth’s arms, hugging her tightly before Percy tugged her into his own, a hand resting protectively on her head. She had always been like a little sister to him even though she was only a few months younger than him, and consistently beat him in training exercises. The first few months after they escaped Tartarus, he had brought her meals and held her when she sobbed and threw up due to nightmares, helping her through the trauma and trying not to throw up himself when Annabeth applied the ointment Will had given you to her back. When she told him of the fraught relationship she had with her father he decided that she needed someone who would be like family and had practically adopted her after they defeated Kronos, the seven, Nico and Will becoming the loving family she had always wanted.

When she pulled away, he nudged her to sit down as Annabeth started preparing chamomile tea for her in the hopes of relaxing her.

“What happened kiddo?” he asked softly, and she huffed a laugh at the nickname. He smiled when he remembered her reaction when he first said it.

“We’re literally the same age!” She threw her hands up as he laughed at her reaction.

“Doesn’t matter you’re technically younger than me.” He argued as she glared at him playfully before waving her hand, laughing when he was strung upside down by a thick vine encircling his ankle.

“Right that’s just unfair!” he laughed before adding “kiddo,” at the end, flipping her off when she rolled her eyes and let him fall and land in a heap, sitting up and rubbing his elbow.

“Rude.” He muttered but she just laughed, picking up the swords she was training with and moved to continue with her training.

They sat and listened as she explained what had happened, taking small sips of her hot tea as she went. When she finished Percy let out a soft curse.

“So Hermes just took him?” Annabeth asked, her eyebrows furrowed in a way Percy knew meant her mind was going a million miles an hour.

She nodded sadly, “there has to be something I can do right? I was finally making progress; I watched all three Iron Man movies with him.”

“That’s a lot of red,” Percy noted, and she bit her lip, nodding sadly.

“What if I never see him again?” She asked, the way her voice broke hit something inside him as he remembered how much it sucked being separated from Annabeth.

“You will.” Annabeth said with such certainty, Percy expected this faerie boyfriend to appear in the seat next to him. Annabeth lifted her bag and started pilling the books she had brought with her and (y/n) stood and moved around her living room, grabbing ones of her own.

“I figured old myths of my mum might help, y’know forbidden love and all,” she said the joke not quite reaching her eyes, but Annabeth nodded.

“I thought the same, but I also figured maybe something to do with Eurydice and Orpheus given he went to the underworld to get her back when they were separated.”

“Didn’t they both die at the end?” Percy asked and (y/n) laughed sadly.

“Shush,” Annabeth said, passing him a book and highlighter. He groaned.

“Why did I agree to this?” He asked but no one answered, and he looked up to see the two women already reading, determination covering their features, so he instead cracked his neck and picked up his own book.

--

Almost 10 hours later you slammed your book down in frustration, wiping your eyes roughly.

“Nothing, there isn’t one thing here. Either I do something stupid and we both die, or I need to find a way to be allowed to live in his world half the year and this one the other half.” Your shoulders slumped, “And that’s presuming I ever get to see him again, and then! Even then, I have what 70 years with him if I’m lucky. That’s nothing to him, he’s fucking five hundred years old.”

Annabeth looked up sympathetically, one hand woven in Percy’s hair as he slept with his head in her lap.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think this has ever happened before. We might have to start looking elsewhere.”

“I just miss him. I know it’s not even been a day, but he was my soulmate, Hermes said so, he thinks I didn’t hear, but I did and now my chest actually hurts now that he’s gone. He’s gone and I don’t think he’s coming back.” You didn’t know how you had any tears left but they were flowing down your cheeks, hot against your cold hands as you wiped your face.

“You will, I promise we’ll figure something out, even if we have to go to the Gods themselves.” Annabeth smiled at you.

“WAIT!” Percy jumped up suddenly, surprising you both, given he appeared to be sleeping. “The Gods, (y/n) you never got your reward.”

“What?”

“After the battle and the fall, you were offered a reward, but you said no because you sensed you would need it in the future. This is the future you need it now you can be with him!” Percy was practically running circles around your living room, gesturing widely as his arms flailed but Annabeth had gone wholly still, doing the math in her head.

“He’s right, that could work.” You felt hope rise in your chest as Annabeth spoke, “But you would have to be specific, if we’ve pissed off Zeus he’ll try trick you, he’s kinda like a genie.” You let out a genuine laugh.

“I think I need to visit my mum,” you said, eyes bright with hope.

“But it’s September.” Percy said, and you gave him a pained smile, grimacing as you realised where you were going.

“I think Nico and I are overdue for a family dinner.”

[meetmeatthecoda]

(star emoji) for Grifting With The Enemy :D

Pumpkin!! 🧡🧡🧡 Hello, my dear friend, thank you so much for your endless interest & support!! 😍😍 And for giving me a reason to re-read GWTE, which I haven't done for a loooong time!! 😂😬 (But, the good news is, it low-key got me inspired to hurry up & finish it!! 😏) BUT - in the meantime - here's some BTS info from my re-read under the cut, which is a lot - fair warning - since it's a 4 chapter fic & counting!! ❤️

LOL I forgot how stressful it is coming up with names for random extra people in fics, I hate doing that LOL But I did think it was important to open with Red NOT being a merciless crime lord who kills anyone who displeases him, cause - while he does have that side to him when necessary - that's not who Red is or wants to be.

I liked including that little moment with Red & Dembe about the parallel parking. I love those father/son & brotp moments for them, they're just the best. I tried to sprinkle those in wherever I could in Red's POV in this fic.

I loved the mental picture of Liz - with glasses & beanie a la The Harem - just leaning casually against a bookshelf the first time Red sees her... & he's immediately captivated, just like in canon. Especially with her eyes, I can't NOT write any version of Red that is not completely blown away by Liz's eyes, I mean, come on I also thought it was important that he thinks she's much younger than she is (intentionally part of her persona) & I'm looking forward to writing the reveal of her true age in a later chapter.

I loved writing a Liz that instantly challenges Red, already having heard about him (& more than that, as revealed in chapter 2) & point blank telling him she may refuse the job bc she has a say too. I liked keeping - & even amplifying a little - that dynamic from canon!Liz of always surprising Red & keeping him on his toes, all while he's trying so desperately to stay ahead of her & impress her.

I LOVED writing the brush pass scene - that moment where Red realizes he has officially underestimated her - & LOL I completely forgot I wrote that part about the condom LMFAO wow past!Coda, mighty daring of you 😂😂😂

Plus, I couldn't help the bonus bit about her stealing his phone & tossing it to him to end the chapter, that was just so fun to throw in there!!

I liked opening chapter 2 with Red still thinking about Liz, just to show how she captured his attention, even before he finds out she's been stealing from him. And I liked writing that revelation without any anger on his part, with him understanding it wasn't a full-scale attack on his empire, she's just a thief taking well paying jobs where she can get them, & instead it just shows him how talented she is. I thought that was an important thing to clarify before moving forward.

I LOVED writing Red & Dembe surprising Liz in her apartment, especially the part with Red's snooping & being confused & surprised by what he sees there. I loved kind of creating/designing Liz's apartment to showcase her true self, not her "young thief" persona that Red falls for at first. I wanted it to be clear that Red is fascinated by her seeming duality from the start (canon LOL) as well as just straight-up attracted to her (also canon LMAO).

Also I gave Liz a loft apartment cause I've always loved those!!

And I LOVEDDD writing Red super confident about surprising her & looking forward to taking her off guard by settling in on the couch & all that macho man stuff, only to be rendered fucking dumbstruck when she comes downstairs with no pants on lmfao & I included that little detail of her usually wearing a knife on her leg to show she's not to be underestimated 😏 & I couldn't help but throw in there Dembe kicking the back of the couch, that made me cackle lmfao

I think the truce was important to establish asap bc I didn't want any secrets or lingering animosity between them. That's for canon 😒 Only flirting & sexual tension here, thank you very much.

I had to include Red being a gentleman & asking if she wanted to get dressed, but I also couldn't resist Liz being confident & careless about it, while still hiding tactfully behind the counter. I thought that was a cute exchange.

lmfao of course, I included their coffee preferences being noticed by the other, I think that's an obligatory thing in any Lizzington fic ever, I'm so guilty of that lmfao

I loved the idea of Red being ready to start on a classic Red's Blacklister Presentation but Liz once again stops him in his tracks (while still secretly being impressed by his presence, of course, & I even accidentally switched POVs for no reason to include that?? nice Coda lmfao) as well as trading barbs & quips with him while Red feels awful & guilty at any accidental slights bc he can't bear to insult her.

AM&R vs. AR&M whoops typo lol

I liked the little snippet of dark!Red we see in their conversation of consequences for his enemies, that way Liz sees a little bit of what he's capable of & Red sees how she's not phased by it.

And that last little flirtation & wink to finish the chapter - lol can't resist

Ooooh, I loved switching to Liz's POV (fully ha) for chapter 3, I enjoyed describing how head over heels she is for Red already, that was fun. I liked writing about her lil movie day & chores she's completed, as well as fleshing out her AU past a little with Sam & her young grifting experiences. And her burning her popcorn while daydreaming about Red cause... same 😏

Ooooh, phone conversations are always so fun to write between them, I love trying to get that perfect mix of joking & sincerity & flirting & pining & pressing the phone close to their ear.

I thought it was important to keep (or rather re-invent, since TPTB seemed to drop it like a hot potato 😒😒😒) Liz's intense interest & respect for psychology, especially as a reason for being attracted to Red, since it kind of mirrors one facet of his interest in her. Not to mention Red thinks at first that it's just a useless, do nothing degree for her LOL

Ohhh, I loved establishing that mutual respect & friendliness between Liz & Dembe early on, that's such a fave of mine, I've always loved their friendship & thought it had a lot of potential. Liz loves & respects Dembe for keeping Red safe & Dembe loves & respects Liz for being so dear to Red.

Ugh, I LOVED writing Liz so completely disarmed by Red's relative state of undress at his safe house (paralleling her pants-less parade in chapter 2, of course) bc sameeeeeeee girl.

I also had fun writing Red blabbing on about some story as he often does, meanwhile Liz has already picked the lock on the safe, once again impressing & surprising him while she admires his different passport pics. That was so fun.

And I loved the quick shift to just a little animosity between them with Red insulting her lockpicks & Liz flaunting her thefts from him. I think those little spats give a little electricity & tension to the relationship, even if they blown over quickly, which they always do. And the fact that Red apologizes & they shake hands & make up is very refreshing to me (since they never fucking do it in canon lol fml) & also it's an excuse to write a little teasing physical contact & sexual tension 😁😁😁

And damn, I forgot how fun it is to throw a little teasing jab in there at the end of a chapter, just for fun - probably bc I'm allergic to multi-chapter fics & never write them lmfao wow

Ahhhhhhhh. I remember how much fun I had writing this whole restaurant scene, partly bc it was a difficult & long process (trying not to make all the flirting & physical movements repetitive while fitting in all the necessary dialogue in a semi-non-boring way lol) but also bc it was so fun writing their back-and-forth while seated at a table alone with nowhere else to go & nothing to distract them. I also wanted to take the opportunity to show Red's genuine interest in her as a person & let them spend some quality time together for the first time. I loved the idea of them losing track of time & Dembe having to come interrupt them with a knowing smirk. Also I def referred to the Olive Garden website for the food they ate cause I'm lame lmfaooo

I thought it was cute to throw in that Liz almost couldn't find Red when she arrived but for the fedora marker he placed out for her & then when she's leaving, she can feel his gaze on her the whole way out. Little parallels like that are my guilty pleasure 😁

Omggg I forgot about the end of this chapter, I remember I wanted Red to surprise Liz yet again & I thought the dessert snuck into her bag was a cute touch. Plus, tiramisu is a favorite of mine 😋 I also tried to make the vibe of this phone call a little softer & more tentative, not so much on tender hooks with lots of tension as the previous ones have been, showing how they're getting used to each other & falling in love at a break neck pace lol

Welp, that's all 4 chapters that are posted buttttttttt a sneaky look at my document that I haven't opened for an embarrassingly long timeeeeeee shows my sketch for the rest of the fic which revealssssss....... a detailed 10 chapter map with an epilogue!! Wow, I forgot I sketched everything out in such detail, this isn't too bad, maybe I should actually write this 😂😂😂 And I promise I will, hopefully sooner rather than later!! ❤️❤️❤️

Well, there you go, Pumpkin, I hope that didn't take you too long to slog through & there was something enjoyable in there for you!! 😂 Thank you so much for your interest again, my lovely friend, & getting me excited about this fic again!! 🥰 Much love to you, always, Pumpkin!! 🧡

Fanfic Writers: Director's Cut

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Mermay - Dilliam - Getting To Know You

William and Damien want to get to know each other, but these things take time. There are more important matters that need to be addressed first.

Read the first part here!

Word Count: 2,159

--

Sure enough, early the next day William hobbled down the steps to the shore. He kept his balance with one hand, and gripped a flask with the other. Unlike the previous day, he wore more layers to keep warm. It made the chilly morning more bearable as the pair sat on the picnic bench. Even so, Damien's high energy and energetic gesturing as he told William the story of when he first met his extended merfamily was infectious. William kept the hot flask in both hands as he sat forward to take in everything and encourage Damien with more questions.

At one point, Damien seemed to snap out of the moment and throw William a concerned look.

"I'm sorry… this, this isn't too much, is it? I don't get to talk about my experiences too much -" He was cut off when he felt a warm hand on his.

"Keep talking. I want to hear everything." William's smile was so wide, it could be seen either side of his bushy moustache. He gave Damien's another reassuring squeeze before lifting his hand away; and Damien had to rapidly suppress the instinct to snatch the hand back. It was such a simple thing, yet Damien felt comfortable enough to keep going.

As it turned out, it was very easy to talk to William. He knew nothing about the world of the ocean, except a small selection of fish names… and even that wasn't right:

("Oh yeah! An orca! That's the one with a horn, right?"

"No. It's the large whale that is black with white markings."

"... Then what am I thinking of?"

"Either a unicornfish or a narwhal, I'd imagine.")

However, as William would later argue, it was because he was normally assigned to tasks on land and was better acquainted with recognising animals, something that Damien was not too confident on:

("But what about that big cat with the hair? You know, the one that has the hair all around its head like this!"

"... Damien, that's what I've been telling you about. Male lions have manes, see?"

"... I knew that.")

Back and forth the conversation went, and Damien could feel a pang of disappointment when Mark came down to accompany them when he returned from rehearsals. Then, to make matters worse, William got a call from Celine regarding something that needed to be reassembled ASAP, so he had to scramble back up.

"Hey… Damien?" Mark broke the silence that had descended on the rocky coast. "I know you were told William was staying for a day or two, but if he gets the all-clear to take off the boot at his appointment tomorrow he has offered to stay longer to help us with odd jobs around the house. Would you be okay with that?"

"Why are you asking me? I don't live here." Damien made quite a considerable effort to give a calm response, and he could only hope that Mark couldn't see through the flimsy act. "It doesn't really affect me what happens up there."

"Well… I wasn’t sure if you were going to continue on your travels soon. If you need to keep on track of your itinerary, don't let our possible change of plan mess with that." Mark's response had Damien cursing his sister. Did both Celine and her partner know about his plight? But Damien knew Mark. If that was the case, there would be obvious teasing. Maybe it was genuine concern on the actor's part. 

"It's alright. I'm not under any time restriction, remember?" One key difference between humans and merfolk was how humans were obsessed with time and schedules, whereas merfolk were more flexible and carefree. "I don't mind staying a little longer. It's nice to be with family again. I'd be a fool to hurry off too fast and miss out on this." Mark's face lit up as he turned to pick up a bag Damien hadn't noticed originally. It was passed to him without any hesitation.

"Speaking of being with family - here. I had this commissioned for you. Consider it a 'new home' gift from both myself and Celine." The merman gingerly opened the present, surprised when he pulled out a small stacked stone ornament on a waterproof pedestal, complete with aqua blue natural sea glass for decoration. "I know you enjoy travelling the seas. Just know that we want this to be your home as much as it is ours when you are in the area. I might only be your brother-in-law to be, but you are still family, and this can be your home if you want it to be. There’s nothing too hard for us to do to make this your home. Just say the word - I have a credit card." Mark reached forward to ruffle Damien's hair, earning himself a dramatically offended hiss in response.

When Mark left, Damien took the decoration in his hands. It was beautiful, and he was enamoured by it… But it made something in his stomach twist. A home… such a concept was different between a merfolk and a human. If they wanted this to be his 'home', were they going to make some sort of enclosure and expect him to ‘settle down’? Celine wouldn't, he knew she never would. Even so, there was the worry if she felt sorry that he would never have a 'home' in the way a human can.

He put the gift into the chest to keep it safe and slipped into the water. He needed time to think about this.

--

"You sure you want to help out? I was kidding about working you to the bone." Celine accompanied William back to the car after his appointment the next day. The crutch and boot were gleefully returned as he was given the all-clear. Now all that was needed was to simply not break it again any time soon.

"Of course! You expect Mark to move things around for you? Or are you planning on killing your fiancé by letting him try his hand at wiring a new light in one of the empty rooms?" He threw Celine an accusatory glare when she laughed at the suggestion. Thankfully, the conversation returned to the matter at hand as they spent the drive to the hardware store deciding what needed to be done in the seafront cottage. 

"Can I ask you a favour?" Celine had stopped in the middle of the 'outdoor' section during their shopping expedition. William screeched the shopping cart to a halt so he could reverse and see what caught her attention. "I want to make the rock pool a place Damien feels comfortable to call home. The positioning of the rocks means it's sheltered from the tides, but I don't know how safe it will be from winter storms. I don't suppose there's anything you can do about that?" William's eyes went from Celine to see what inspired her to request such a job. It was a rock waterfall, an ornament for a garden. The colour of the rocks matched the ones by the sea.

"I'm not sure, only because I've not seen much of it. It'd depend on if the 'pool' is shallow or not. I could try and add some extra support to those rocks that frame the water, maybe check what supports are normally put along beaches to protect coastal towns?" Celine nodded as William spoke, fetching several LED lamps and dropping them into the cart.

"We should ask Damien when we return. I didn't want to bring it up too soon after we moved in because I know he's not one for staying in one place for too long. I suppose it's the mer instincts at play." When she noticed William's confusion, Celine continued, "When we grow up, we normally want to settle down in a house of our own, right? Merfolk might have nesting grounds or communities of their own, but they tend to travel since they can cover large distances in a short amount of time. It's why Damien would often disappear for months at a time." She sighed as she shoved her hands into her pockets. "I wanted a house by the sea so Damien would have a place he could call home too and feel he can stay longer. I can't protect him if he's forever travelling."

"Protect him?"

"You've heard the stories, right? Where people have exotic 'pets' that are categorised as 'mythical'? Having a merman as beautiful as Damien is one thing, but one with fluency in English and an awareness of human behaviours would be a valuable asset to American collectors… Or worse." Even if her hands were hidden, William knew her fists were tightly clenched in anger at the thought of something bad happening. "I don't want anyone to hurt him. Even if he travels the seas and has plenty of connections, he's still my little brother."

"Hey," William braved putting a hand on Celine's shoulder, "It's okay. He'll be okay. We can go back and see how he feels about rubber duck decorations." He pulled back to lift the item in question. They were tiny LED lights on a string, but each light was encased in a small model that resembled a toy rubber duck. "If we got a few of these and draped them around the rocks, it'd really look like home. And look! They're half-price. It's meant to be, Celine." Though still worried for her brother, the distraction worked as Celine finally cracked a smile and lightly shoved William. "What? Oh! You're right. That's far too ambitious. Just the one will do." That was that as it was innocently dropped in, followed by an actual rubber duck toy.

"Trust me. I might not be an outside landscaper-person, but I know we'll be able to make the rock pool the most spiffing place this side of the seven seas!"

-

To William's credit, he had only gathered a handful of impulse purchases that he paid for himself, including a pair of small hanging mirror shaped like a crescent moon and a star as a belated housewarming present ("Mark is the star 'cause he an actor, and you're the moon 'cause of your magic stuff."). Everything else was relevant to the required home improvement jobs that William would be working on over the next few weeks. Once they had brought everything inside, it was then the turn of Mark to bring William out of the house and make the drive to William's family home. William could grab his tools and show his elderly parents that his leg had fully healed. His mother insisted they take a loaf of homemade bread and some cupcakes with them once she had smothered William in hugs and kisses and made him promise to come by while he was in the area.

Meanwhile, the twins sat on one of the large rocks, gazing out over the sea. Damien rested his head on Celine's shoulder as she told him about how her job was going and some of the ideas for the home renovation now that William was staying and ready to work. Damien held her phone, idly scrolling through the photos as she explained what was going on, until he realised the next few photos were of the area they were in.

"- some sort of way to make this place a little safer in the storms. Do you think you could have a think and see what can be done?"

"I'll think about it." Damien returned the phone to Celine as he sat up straight. "Whatever happens will happen, I suppose."

"But this is your home. Whatever happens here is your choice first and foremost."

"Yeah, sure."

"Damien. I'm serious." She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, only for him to pull away. The fins on his collarbones flared briefly in agitation.

"This is your home, Celine. You don't need to pretend that I have a say in any of this, or that you'd even listen to what I'd want anyway. I don't need your pity because I can't go buy a house like you can."

"That's not what this about-"

"Isn't it? Don't think I never heard those conversations you had with Mom and Dad about wishing I could 'settle down'. I'd bet you even want to build me some sort of little enclosure to make up for that fact."

"Damien, stop that!" But it was too late. He had slipped into the water. Confused and frustrated, but wanting to avoid further argument, Celine stormed back up to the house.

Mark and William had decided to cut into the bread when the back door opened. Their argument on what would best accompany their snacks was abruptly cut off as Celine marched past them and down the corridor, before a door slammed shut. A silent nod was swapped between the men. Something happened between the twins. Food could wait. They needed to get to the bottom of this. ---

(I normally don’t stick these notes on the bottom, but I’m planning on spreading out this story over the month. It’s currently 20 pages on g.oogle docs total, so there definitely will be more. However, I will be putting the next part up tomorrow since 1. I’m not mean to leave it on a cliffhanger for several days and 2. It was waaay too long to put everything as one chapter)

[thefanficmonster]

My Warrior

Daniel x Taylor (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope)

Warnings: !Spoilers!, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Summary: They have all made it out of there. They’re safe from the real horrors, but the scenes that have been imbedded into their minds keep haunting them. They are left with scars to their subconscious as well as scars on their skin. Marks to remind them of what they went through. What they survived. Taylor can’t stand them - the burn marks on her skin and the scars that night left on her. She’s struggling way more than she’d like to admit. But there’s someone who sees through her toughness.

Requested by @chairtiger Hello there my chaotic co-cult leader! Sorry to be posting your request so late 👉👈 hope you understand and forgive me for the long wait. I had a blast writing the fic and I hope you enjoy reading it. Anyway...SHIP DAYLOR FOR CLEAR SKIN EVERYONE...Love, Vy ❤

“Fucking hell, this is torture.“ Taylor groans as she runs a make-up wipe over her foundation-covered, bruised skin. Underneath all those layers of foundations are the marks she’s been so desperate to hide - the reminders of that night. That monstrosity that wanted her dead and wasn’t gonna stop at anything to make that happen.

But it didn’t happen She tells herself, I’m here, aren’t I?

She’s happy to have gotten out of there with her life as well as all her friends, but the feeling of the constant presence of that night’s memories weighing on her mind, and thanks to the marks on her skin as well, she has a hard time accepting that she was indeed lucky. Some fucking luck. If she were lucky she wouldn’t have even ended up in that predicament. But she did and it has taken a bite out of her sanity and will haunt her for good, physically and mentally. No doubt about it.

The first place they all went to after their return was a hospital. Scrapes and bruises and some open wounds along with Andrew’s concussion were the main of the physical injuries. No broken bones or anything permanent, thank God. 

Well, almost nothing permanent. 

Taylor had seen the looks the nurses and the doctor gave her when they saw the state of her skin - much like the others she had bruises and scratches here and there, the most serious of which still had dried blood on them. However, unlike the rest of the group, she’d be left with the burn marks for as long as the memories - forever. Of course, that’s not what the doctor told her, not directly, at least. He said to give them time and some treatment that wasn’t completely sure to work. She knew what that meant - “Be ready to spend the rest of your life like this or in covering it up.”

It’s been one month since that horrible night. One month of treatment for her skin. Lotions, creams, cleansers, foundation. Nothing has worked. She spends an hour going through the process of covering the marks up and an hour taking all that foundation off. No one has commented on them which may be either because she covers them well enough or they simply don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. She doesn’t care what others think of them, people’s opinions never bother her on any ground. The war she has with these burn marks is personal and has all to do with an event she wants to let go of and move on from. As if her nightmares aren’t enough, she also has to deal with flashbacks every time she looks in the mirror.

She hasn’t expressed her frustration to anyone. She has managed to hide it as well as the bruises themselves. It’s Taylor after all, she’s good at putting on an act so no one can read her. But, because it is indeed her, she’s not used to keeping her anger in. She feels like a ticking timed bomb. A bubble with tender, delicate walls that could burst at any moment. And God help the person who she bursts in front of. She’s never held her composure this long, she doesn’t know what will even happen if she lets go.

Now, looking in the mirror, about to take off her foundation and apply the new lotion the doctor prescribed her, she feels as fragile as ever. She’s feeling the lack of sleep more than ever as well as the pain of her tensed muscles that never seem to relax anymore. She doesn’t feel mentally prepared to go through the process of taking off the cover-up. She never feels ready, it always takes a toll on her on mentally, emotionally and even physically. She always feels so tired afterwards, so drained. Maybe because she always expects to see a difference when the foundation comes off. There never is, nothing but disappointment.

Today has been extra hard for her. Her mind has never been hazier from the lack of sleep. Her thoughts are all over the place, none of them clear. Her body’s almost shutting down. She feels like a ghost of herself. Like the real her is in a different location. Probably still stuck in Little Hope.

The foundation’s off, the same sight meets her, mocking her from the mirror. And that’s the snapping point she’s been dreading for a month now. She reaches for the new lotion she picked up on her way home.

“Useless piece of shit!“ she chucks it to the other end of the bathroom. The bottle is unharmed, it just hits the tiled floor with a loud thud. She however is in pieces, also dropping on the ground, her back against the wall, her knees tucked close to her chest, hiding her face between them, sobbing her heart out. It’s certainly a freeing feeling, but it only exhausts her more.

“Hey T...Taylor, what’s wrong?“ She hears the familiar voice and goes silent but does not dare lift her head, especially not now that her cover-up is off her, the burn marks on display. She remains sitting on the ground, face hidden from his sight.

Daniel feels her heart sink at the sight of the most important person in his life being at a low point like this one. He feels guilty for not taking action sooner. He saw the signs, the red flags in the form of fake empty smile, lack of sarcasm, colorless cheeks, eyebags, red eyes. Lack of Taylor, she was nowhere to be seen. She was far from the person he’s used to knowing and seeing every day. Knowing her, he expected prying to be a bad move but now he wishes he’d done it sooner. On time. Before she could crash like this.

“Do you know how to knock?” Her weak attempt at putting her tough act back on slips through the cracks in her voice.

Daniel is by her side asap, kneeling on the ground in front of her. “T, come on, don’t do this. Look at me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She knows better than to hide from Daniel. He know her too well. She trusts him too much. So, despite her previous determination not to let him in on the fact that she’s now a product of that night, she raises her head, resting her chin on her knee, still avoiding his gaze though. He doesn’t bat an eye though. 

Can he really not see what’s bothering me? It’s very fucking obvious

“I- I just feel like I can’t do this, you know. I can’t be fine like the rest of you. You’ve all moved on. And here I am with nightmares like a preschooler and these ugly things all over my skin. That night will permanently hold onto me, Daniel. I can never let it go if I’m reminded of it every time I look in the mirror.“ Her gaze travels to the lotion bottle on the an arm’s reach away. “I can empty as many of these bottles as I feel like, they never help. The doctor says they maybe would, big emphasis on the ‘maybe’ but, spoiler alert: they never do. I wish they’d stop stringing me along, every failed attempt is a hard-to-swallow disappointment.“ She chuckles humorlessly when Daniel takes the bottle from her, “And then there’s always the casually mentioned risk of it making them worse rather than better. You know, casually. Like, yeah this will either help you or fuck you up even worse.“ She ends the rant with a sigh, almost feeling like herself again.

Daniel sees it too, the fire in her eyes is fighting to light again. She’s so angry and yet she can’t express it to anyone. Anyone by him apparently. 

“So, you’re not gonna give it a shot?“ She shakes her head, “But what if it helps?“

“What if it makes it worse?“ She automatically replies, hugging her knees closer

“Let it be your last go. If it doesn’t do anything, or God forbid makes things worse, it’s on me. I owe you whatever you want. I know that’s nothing in comparison to what you’ll be dealing with, but...“ Sensing a speech is on its way, Taylor holds her hand up, shaking her head.

“Alright, spare me Mr. I-Don’t-Take-Medicine-Unless-I’m-On-My-Death-Bed. Give me the lotion.“

He shakes his head, stands up and takes hold of the hand she has outstretched instead. “Nah-ah, let me help.” The skeptical and downright humoring look she gives him when she stands to her feet almost makes him frown. “What? I’m not clueless, T. I know a think or two about skin care. You think this all came naturally?” He motions at himself cockily, stealing a genuine laugh from her.

“I knew nature couldn’t fuck up that badly. I suspected you had something to do with it.“ She narrows her eyes, meeting his also narrow-eyed gaze, both in on the fact that the other is messing around.

“Your skin is at my mercy. I wouldn’t talk smack if I were you.“ He playfully warns her, waving the lotion bottle in front of her.

She rolls her eyes, “Yeah whatever you say, tough guy.“ She opens a drawer under the sink and throws him a box of cotton pads.

Not wasting any time in fear she might change her mind, Daniel takes one pad out and puts a few drops of the lotion on it. He hesitantly brings it closer to the skin on the side of her neck while she stands as still as a statue, not breathing either. Despite all the bold talk, he’s still nervous. He really hopes this miracle liquid of chemicals works, solely because it will make Taylor happy. And to him, her happiness is all that matters.

She shudders when the cold, damp cotton pad makes contact with her skin and he immediately feels the need to apologize. Instead, however, he goes on to tell her exactly what’s on his mind, cause he knows there’ll never be a better time.

“What you call a reminder of that night, the horrors we endured, I see it differently...“ he trails off, looking at her reflection in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. “I see it as proof that we’re stronger than we know. And you, T...are the strongest of us all. Any of these scars could have been a lethal would but here you are, alive. And no, I’m not trying to say you’re lucky. None of us are. Lord knows what kind of fucked up luck we posses, but it ain’t right. No, you are brave. You went through it and fought to leave the battle with scars instead of dropping to the ground with a wound that is irredeemable. You’re a warrior, Taylor.” He pauses for a second and so do the movements of his hand. He hesitantly inhales before saying the last sentence he’s been holding back, “My warrior.” 

Taylor tilts her head to look at him, genuine surprise and warmth in her eyes. She’s baffled. Pleasantly caught off-guard by words she never thought she’d hear, let alone trust. She covers all this up with a smirk. Classic Taylor. “You weren’t really a pansy back there either, Dan.” She gently bumps his shoulder with hers.

His eyes narrow again. “I hate that nickn-“ It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t get to finish his sentence cause her lips are already on his, preventing him from ranting about...whatever he was about to go off about.

You know what they say: If you don’t finish saying it, it was never meant to be said in the first place. 

@artlovingbre  @megandaisy9  @sparrow-gg​

[the-empress-7]

food for thought

I know there’s a lot of people convinced that Meghan is a narcissist, I guess because of the more ‘grandiose’ aspects of her personality (acting, look-at-me fashion, etc.). It’s been discussed by Lady C and I know there are a few on tumblr who’ve said 'narc’ as well.

Yet everything that has come out since leaving the BRF makes me think it’s almost the opposite, that it’s borderline. Not trying to armchair diagnose her, I just think the kind of behaviour and words she uses show deep-seated insecurities rather than deep-seated self confidence.

Try here: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-science-mental-health/202010/when-borderline-personality-disorder-becomes-stalking

> People with borderline personality behaviour may also prefer not to be alone and they might come across as “needy” or demanding in the time, amount of communication or attention that they want from their spouse, family, or friends.

- was never able to be single, went from one relationship to another

- hugely demanding on palace staff, agents, nannies etc and these individuals seem to have left her service asap

- genuinely seemed to expect to be besties with Kate right away (despite obvious absurdity of expecting a busy working mother to drop everything to meet the needs of a newbie to go shopping)

> This can make spouses, friends, or family feel like they are walking on eggshells or expected to meet impossibly high standards.

- Harry’s “what Meghan wants, Meghan gets” attitude, feeling a need to please her by redesigning her rings, trying to get her the tiara that she originally wanted, moving to her home country instead of favoured Africa, etc

- it’s more borderline to take personal offence at those who aren’t meeting their needs, as they see it as people disrespecting and minimising their value (remember all the times she has said she felt “voiceless” when the general public hasn’t reacted to her in the way she expected, despite being platformed by Vogue?)

> They can feel confused or unknowing about their goals in life, values, or beliefs such as being easily influenced to change their belief system or political outlook without having a deep opinion about it.

> A person with borderline personality disorder can feel continually empty in not finding experiences, achievements, interactions, or emotions deep or meaningful.

- Meghan wasn’t political/charitable before Harry and wasn’t a BLM activist, she wasn’t talking about the dangers of social media, she wasn’t donating her clothes to female employment charities as a way to empower other women (she was grilling salads and giving diet/beauty advice lol)

- this is why she can play at being woke despite having many Republican/conservative friends in her social circle

- also why she jumps from topic to topic and is seemingly passionate about literally everything she has heard of… she’s trying to use advocacy to give her life a sense of meaning, but nothing fulfils her neediness and so her interest remains shallow (eg. ignorant of Black History Month) and she gets criticised instead of meaningful praise, and the cycle starts all over again

> A person with borderline personality disorder tends to be impulsive in a way that can damage them or others.

- spending huge sums of public money on clothing, private jets, and houses in order to alleviate her insecurities and match up to the rich celebs she wants to be friends with, outspending literally all the other female royals and thus attracting criticism

- being unable to hold back on the impulse to bitch about W&K in FF, even though it kills her chances of being able to retain some of the royal magic into the future

- unable to stop launching lawsuits, even those with a poor chance of winning and will make her look bad

> A person with borderline personality disorder tends to have a highly reactive mood that can swing from one intense emotion to another.

> A person with borderline personality disorder can become inappropriately angry or find it very difficult to control anger.

- she was physically unable to keep her emotions and facial reactions in check when the Fortune interviewer said she was “not the only powerful woman involved in this equation” (if this wasn’t such a sensitive point for her it would have been very easy to say something like 'yep I’m glad I’m not alone and that I’m part of a community of women who want to contribute to a better world’)

- it’s why their zoom chats are so snarkable, because they are being asked questions in real time rather than all the prepared speeches she had before, so it’s a lot more revealing

Not sure if all this is 'too much’ to post as again I don’t think anyone should pretend to be a psychologist. I have just found it interesting to observe as I have been thinking more about why they seem to be circling downwards in interest and popularity, if narc’s are meant to have such a powerful belief in their own talents and are meant to be super charismatic. Some things didn’t match up for me but idk if anyone else has noticed this?

====

This is a great summation of demonstrated behaviors, thank you for taking the time. 

[kalypsichor]

and they were quARANTINED [a beatles fic] - ch 1

summary: George takes a shit. Ringo braves a trip to the tescos and loses a bit of his soul. John harrasses the general public and Paul’s just trying to get them home before they kill each other. All while a virus tears the world apart.

warnings: CRACK (not cocaine), geo’s bad potty habits, ringo’s copious use of emojis

so, this is different... but i’ve always been a crack fic writer at heart. this is the result of being quarantined myself due to COVID-19. i’ve been seeing so much fear and frustration and hatred that i just wanted to write about it kinda cathartically. enjoy!

Unfortunately, George doesn’t realize that they’re out of toilet paper until after he’s taken a shit.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Ringo?”

No answer.

“Ringooooooooo. RINGO!!!”

George’s legs are starting to lose feeling. He bounces them up and down a bit and the motion almost makes him drop his phone in the toilet.

“RICHARD FUCKING STARKEY!”

There’s the sound of footsteps and then a pause before Ringo answers.

“What’s up?”

“What took you so long?”

“Had my headphones in. Sorry I couldn’t be at your beck and call, O Lord of the Loo.”

“SHUT up. Look, do we have any more loo roll?”

A pause. “Why, are we out?”

George rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars. “No, I’m askin’ for the banter.”

“I’ll go check. Don’t move!”

George can almost see the shit-eating (heh) grin on his mate’s face as he walks away. With a sigh and some choice curse words that would make Louise cry, George pulls out his phone again. Opens Twitter. Sees yet another tweet from that spraytanned clown across the pond. Closes Twitter and contemplates deleting it. After about three rounds of this, Ringo comes back and knocks on the door.

“We’re all out. Got you some tissues, though.”

Krishna help me. George tips his head back against the wall and thumps it a few times for good measure.

“Thanks,” he says flatly. “Could you- ?”

The door opens just a smidge before he can finish talking there’s a flying blur of Kleenex box, a blinding pain in the side of his head, and a sickening crACK—

***

“I’m really sorry,” Ringo says for the millionth time, hovering over George as he examines the spiderweb of cracks on his phone screen. George huffs. He wants to be mad, he really does, but Ringo’s face is doing that stupid thing where his eyes are very, very blue and droopy and his teeth are worrying his bottom lip and it’s obvious that he’s genuinely remorseful and—fuck, he’s got it bad.

“It’s fine,” George insists, even though he can hear his bank account having a fit. “Piece of shit phone, anyway. And look, it still works!” Very shittily, his brain adds, but that’s what you get with a five year old phone.

The older boy’s eyes still have an unconvinced, sad look about them and George wishes he could kiss it away. No homo, though.

“How can I make it up to you?” George’s brain does a slutdrop into the gutter. “I’ll… I’ll get the groceries! How ‘bout that?”

“NO!” Scrambling off the couch, George just barely misses smacking noses with Ringo. “What about the… the virus?”

“I’ll wear a mask and all. Wash hands for twenty seconds, stay six feet away from people… am I missing anything?”

“Yeah, the quarantine bit.”

Ringo snorts and puts a hand on George’s arm. “Quit your worrying, Geo. I’ll be fine. Haven’t John and Paul been out all day?”

***

John and Paul want to go the fuck home. They’d walked all the way to a new art gallery opening only to find out it was cancelled (“Why didn’t you check Google?” “Why didn’t you?”). And now, both being tired as hell from their long trek, they couldn’t even flag down a single cab to take them home.

“This is the worst thing ever,” John cries, flopping his entire body down on a park bench. Paul rolls his eyes and lifts up John’s stupidly long legs so he can sit down as well.

“People are dying, John.”

“I feel like I’m dying.”

“John.”

“Okay, fine, maybe I’m being dramatic. But this stupid… thing… is fucking up all our plans!”

“It’s not fucking Voldemort, you can say the name.”

“Alright, fine. Coronavirus. CORONAVIRUS. You happy, Paul?”

A woman hurrying by shoots them a wide-eyed, nervous look and crosses the street, tugging a little boy by the hand.

“... bitch.”

“Jesus, John.” Paul pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’d do that too if some rando was shouting in the streets.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t hafta shoot that nasty look at us… did you see that? Paul?”

“Hold on, hold on.” His phone is vibrating in his pocket and he fumbles to pull it out. “Your stupid legs are in the way.”

John huffs and makes a show of wiggling said legs, almost kicking Paul in the face. Still, he tucks them to his chest (flexible, Paul thinks and then instantly regrets) so that Paul can take out the buzzing rectangle.

--

bongo: do u or john want anything? 🤔🤔

bongo: like groceries

bongo: going to tescos

Shouldnt you be quarantining?

bongo: ur literally at an art museum 😂

It’s a gallery

And it got cancelled :/

bongo: oop sorry m8 thats tough

bongo: srsly tho whaddaya want

We need more vegetables. Carrots, etc

--

“Tell him to get cornflakes,” John says, peering over Paul’s shoulder. He’s sat up and practically draped over Paul’s lap. Paul sighs and shoves his legs off, ignoring the indignant squawk the other boy makes when he almost falls off the bench.

--

Also that cornflake cereal stuff

bongo: k

bongo: tell john i said hi

Heyyyyyy rich wots up

Paulie’s being a bitch he pushed me :((((

Why is his auto caps on lsdnfol

--

“Give it back!”

“Ow! Ow stop hitting me Jesus fuckin-”

--

Sorry that was john

bongo: yeah i could tell lmao

bongo: where are u guys??

Stuck at some park. Can’t get any cabs home

bongo: well duh coronavirus 😷😷😷

bongo: bad time to be a cabbie man 😔

Yeah yikes

Pick up some rice for george too

And hand sanitizer

bongo: ill try but twitter says handsan itizer is going fast

bongo: what the fuc why did it space like that

Lol

bongo: oh also

bongo: geos being a mother hen and making me wear a face mask

bongo: u know where they are?

Second drawer down in the bathroom, behind the rubber gloves

bongo: … how did u reply SO fast

Uh i know where things are in our flat? Like a normal person?

bongo: thats sus but ok

bongo: wow theyre actually here

bongo: okay imma head out before it gets dark

What’s after dark? Zombies?

bongo: u never no

bongo: *no

bongo: FUCKING *KNOW

Nice

Okay stay safe ritch

bongo: 😘🙃👍🏼✌🏼✌🏼🌈🌟🥦🥦🥦☮️

***

Ringo has never seen this many people at Tesco in his entire life. Two grown men are having a full on argument in the pastries. A harried-looking dad almost knocks Ringo into a rack of Twinkies, pulling along two screaming kids with one slung on his hip. And… is that person actually wearing a Hazmat suit??

“This is insane,” Ringo mutters to himself, slightly muffled due to the face mask. He just needs to find the loo roll and then he’s going to yeet outta here ASAP.

Okay, hygiene aisle… here we g—what the—

The entire aisle is empty.

It’s like a goddamn Old Western. Just add a cow skull… cue the tumbleweed… and it would be perfect.

Not for the first time that day, Ringo sends a prayer to whoever is listening above. There’s got to be something left. He walks down to the end of the aisle. Walks back. Jumps a couple times to check if there’s anything on the top shelf. Sincerely hopes no one just saw him do that. Finally, shoved at the very back behind a couple of Always boxes, Ringo digs out a dusty as shit six-pack of toilet paper.

Well. It’ll have to do.

As he’s walking to the check out lines, a woman drops her bottle of hand sanitizer. It rolls across the floor in a perfect arc and Ringo scoops it up before it can get too far.

“Oops, you dropped this!” He says cheerily, handing it to her. Well, trying to. The woman makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, physically flinches away from his outstretched hand, and almost drops the rest of her groceries. Before Ringo can react, she’s disappeared behind the produce aisle.

Ringo’s arm falls to his side. He stares at the space where she was just a second ago and holds in a scream.

“More for us, I guess.”

***

By the time Ringo reaches the flat, he’s ready to never see another person again. He trudges right past George in the kitchen, dropping the groceries on the table with a thwack. John hums a greeting to him in the living room and offers him a biscuit.

“No thanks,” Ringo says. He faceplants into the couch.

Something clinks onto the coffee table. Well, coffee table is one way to put it; it’s more of a hunk of stone from back when Paul thought he was going to be the next Michelangelo and get really into classical sculpture. It now sits in the living room and primarily holds George’s textbooks, plus takeout for whenever they don’t feel like cooking (which is all the time), so you can see how that panned out for Paul.

“Tea for you,” George says. He plops onto the floor between the couch and the table and runs a friendly, comforting hand through Ringo’s hair. Ringo practically purrs, leaning into the touch, and George feels his heart melt and trickle through his ribs. “You okay?”

“I’ve lost all faith in humanity,” Ringo mumbles into the cushion. John reaches over and pats him on the back.

“Don’t worry, Ringo. There won’t be any humans to have faith in soon.”

George throws a packet of sugar at John who dodges it, snickering. Ringo groans and tries to sink even deeper into the couch.

And that’s when they hear Paul scream.

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

Jimin Scenario| You are his photographer and fall for him

Oh my god he looks so fucking beautiful. You found yourself completely captivated watching Jimin perform up on stage. You were supposed to be taking photos of him, but seeing those little diamonds glitter under his eyes during his performance of Serendipity had literally left you speechless.  Bless the stylist my goodness. You froze, mouth agape just watching until your coworker nudged you, snapping you back to reality as you began taking photos again. 

“You really got it bad you know?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Listen, I’m just going to give you some advice as not only a coworker but also as a friend. You’re horrible at hiding your feelings for Jimin. If you value your job and his, you should probably do a better job at hiding it or ask to be assigned to a different member. The last thing you want is a scandal on your hands.” She walks away from you, leaving you feeling dumbfounded about the whole situation. You were appalled that you let yourself get so wrapped up in your feelings that other people began to notice. Not only did you put your own job in jeopardy, but Jimin’s as well. You shake your head snapping yourself out of it, and making a mental note to hide your feelings better. You’re looking at Jimin through the lense of your camera when he makes eye contact with you, throwing a subtle wink your way and a smirk making the crowd go wild as well as your heart.

Shit. This is bad. You think to yourself. How did you let your feelings for him get so out of control? You were friends with all the members, genuinely enjoyed their company and they seemed to enjoy yours as well. You all always went out together and got dinner after the shows with the rest of the staff. But being Jimin’s photographer had left you getting to know him more personally than the others as you two were almost always together when they did photo shoots or performances. 

Photographing his performances was always your favorite. The way he moved when he danced, it was absolutely beautiful and he looked ethereal. You had always managed to capture his subtle gestures, his emotions and passion with just a single photograph. He sometimes was even moved to tears because of how amazing the photos were you took of him. He has told you many times that your hearts must be on the same wavelength because you always seem to know the exact moments to take his photos.

You took it as playful teasing, at first. But somewhere along the way you began to believe his words. And now here you were, hopelessly crushing on the one person you never should be. The one person you could never have. The one person who was way too good for you. Coming to that realization hurt you, but you buried the hurt into the deepest reaches of your heart to hopefully never see the light of day. When his performance was over he bowed to the crowd and waved at everyone, eyes landing on you before the lights dimmed. You willed your heart to calm down and painted a mask of professionalism on your face, ready to complete your task at hand the rest of the night. 

Once the show was over you were backstage packing up your camera equipment when you felt a familiar pair of hands cover your eyes. 

“Guess who?”

“Hmmm, Jimin?” He turns you around and has that bright smile on his face that makes butterflies feel like they’re going to flutter right out of your throat if you try to talk. 

“Hey y/n. Can I see some of the photos you took tonight?”

“Not right now. I’ll go through them and send you the good ones to look over.”  He can tell you’re being short with him and the smile fades from his face, making your chest hurt.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah everything is fine. Just tired. I think I’m going to skip out on dinner with you guys tonight.”

“But.. y/n you always come out with us it won’t be the same if you’re not there.” He’s pouting, and you almost give in. You’re probably one of the only people who manage to tell him no when he looks at you with those puppy eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jimin. I just have had a rough week and I really want to just go home and sleep. You understand right?” You offer him a small smile to try and placate him but it doesn't seem to work. He frowns at you. “Jimin, please.” He relents.

“Alright, fine. But I want to see those photos asap tomorrow. Pretty please? The photos you take are always so beautiful and I love looking at them. You really know how to make me look good.”

“You don’t need my help to do that.” You mentally smack yourself in the face for having made such a comment. 

“Aww you do like me after all!” 

“Jimin, I’m just your photographer, nothing else. I didn’t mean it like that.” You finally finish packing up your equipment and the dejected look on Jimin’s face almost makes you apologize and take back what you just said, but you know it’s for the best.

“Okay.. Sorry I was just teasing you. I’ll just see you tomorrow I guess so we can go over the photos?”

“Sure. Have a good night.”

“You too, y/n.” 

You walk through your apartment door and let out a loud yell in frustration. You can’t keep doing this. Being around Jimin all the time is just going to make your feelings stronger. You can’t stop thinking about the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, how he loses himself in laughter, how he loves with his whole being. You are right in the middle of your little crisis when your phone goes off, it’s a message from Jimin. It’s a photo of him with his lower lip jut out in a pout. Wish you were here with us. It’s not the same without you. 

You feel a lump form in your throat but quickly swallow it down. You leave the message unanswered, opting to lay down instead and figure out what you should do. A part of you was considering asking your coworker if you could switch jobs with her. She was Hoseok’s photographer, and you thought maybe putting some distance between you and Jimin would be for the best. After a long time of thinking about your options you decided this would be the best one. Tomorrow you would go over the photos with Jimin, and then talk to the company about switching who you’d be photographing.

The next morning you wake up and go through the photos, picking out the best ones to show too Jimin. You text him in the afternoon to see if he wants to meet with you.

Hey Jimin. Sorry I crashed as soon as I got home and just saw your message. I hope you still had a good time. When did you want to meet to go over the photos?

He texts you back almost instantly.

Whenever you want to y/n! I’m free all day. How about in an hour? 

Sounds good. See you soon.

See you soon! 

Jimin has arrived at the company first, waiting outside of your office. He greets you with a smile as always, and you offer a small smile back.

“Hey y/n. Are you feeling better today?”

“Yeah. I am actually. I think I just needed a good night’s rest.”

“Good! You ready to go over the photos now?”

“Sure.” You unlock your office door and sit on your chair. Jimin grabs a seat and pulls it up, probably a little big closer than necessary but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to be close to you. You move to plug your camera into your computer so he can see the photos better. When you sit back down you subtly move your chair farther away from him, hoping he doesn’t notice but based on the small frown that forms on his face you know he noticed. It breaks your heart having to treat him like this but you tell yourself it’s for the best for both of you, if just to lessen the ache a little bit. 

You bring up the first photo and Jimin of course, praises your photography skills. He continues praising you, gradually leaning closer to you until his chest is pushed up against your side as he leans into you to get a better look at the photos. 

“Can you send me that one? I want to post it to our twitter and Weverse it’s amazing. People should know your work and know how amazing you are. You smile and do as he asks. Now that you two are done going over the photos together there is a silence that has settled over the room. You glance at the clock and realize it’s almost time for your meeting. 

“Jimin, I have to go now. I have a meeting with the company.”

“Oh? What about?”

“Just.. some things I need to get sorted out.” Jimin looks at you, concern evident in his features. 

“Y/n are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting really weird lately.”

“I’m fine. Once this is all done with everything will go back to how it should be.”

“I’m not sure if I really like the sound of that..” You ruffle his hair and smile at him, trying to calm his nerves. There’s no sense in making him worry about you.

“Don't worry about it. You can stay and look at the photos for as long as you want to. Just lock the door when you leave okay?” He nods and picks up your camera to look at the photos you hadn’t shown him. Some of them were a little blurry, but he couldn’t help but burst out laughing at a series of photos he had come across. You had captured his flirty wink perfectly and then the next photo was blurry and then a shot came through of the ground as if you had almost dropped your camera. Jimin giggles to himself as he thinks about the fact that he had made you flustered. He liked you, a little more than an artist should like their photographer. But you two spent so much time together and he just couldn’t help it. You treated him just like a normal person, not like some idol that was put on a pedestal. And your photos told him that you really saw his heart. He sighed thinking about what to do. He wanted to be honest with you and tell you his feelings but you had bolted out of the room. And now you have some secret meeting with the company? He had no idea what to expect from all this. Were you thinking about leaving? Was his playful flirting making you uncomfortable?

He was still mulling over his thoughts and he hadn’t noticed that a half hour had gone by. His was snapped out of his thoughts when his phone went off and he saw a text from his manager.

Y/n and Hoseok’s photographer are switching so she’ll be with you now and y/n will be with Hoseok. Just wanted to inform you so you weren't surprised at the photoshoot tomorrow. 

Jimin nearly drops his phone at the message. Why would you do something like that? Was this your choice or the company’s? Had he done something to upset you? Jimin feels like he’s going to go insane if he doesn’t find out what the hell happened. He rushes out of your office, heading to the meeting room. When he arrives he presses his ear up against the door and can hear you all talking muffled inside of the room. He can’t hear anything you’re saying and it bothers him. He sighs and waits outside of the room on one of the chairs, waiting for the meeting to be officially over. He hears the door click open and his gaze immediately snaps up and meets your eyes.

“J-Jimin what are you doing? Didn’t you get Sejin’s message?”

“Yes. I did. And I think we need to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. It was my choice. And I would appreciate it if you would respect that.” You walk past him towards the elevators and he darts in after you before the doors can shut. 

“Y/n please tell me did I do something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable or something?” He’s pleading with you to give him answers and the fact you can’t offer him any hurts you. You choose not to answer him. When the elevator dings that it has hit the bottom floor suddenly Jimin grabs your wrist and drags you away from the lobby.

“Jimin stop it just let me go!”

“No. Not until you give me some answers I can accept.” He pulls you into what looks like a storage closet, locking the door behind him and standing in front of the door.

“Jimin.. please just let me go. I don't want to do this right now.” 

“Now is the only time I am going to be able to get you to talk to me. What did I do to make you hate me so much that you don’t want to even be around me anymore?” Seeing the hurt in his eyes and the tears that start to well up in his eyes is what breaks you.

“I'm sorry.” Your voice cracks as you begin to cry as well. He is too quick to bring his thumbs to your cheeks and wipe them away.

“Just talk to me. What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“I messed up everything. It’s not you. It was never you.” He drops his hands away from your face, feeling rather confused. 

“What do you mean you messed everything up?”

“With my stupid feelings that’s why. I like you. Too much. More than just friends. I had to do something to protect our careers so I asked to be Hoseok’s photographer instead. Being around you all the time is just making it worse. You’re too... perfect.” Jimin doesn’t say anything, he’s too shocked to even form a coherent sentence. You like him too? For how long? Why are you trying to push him away then? “And judging by the look on your face you obviously don’t feel the same way. So if you’ll excuse me.” You reach behind him to unlock the door only to have his hand reach out and pull your arm back. The intensity of his expression is difficult for you to get a read on.

“Can you let me go? I want to get out of here now I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day.” Jimin’s brain finally catches up and moves his hand down from your wrist to link your hands together. 

“I can’t do that y/n. I can’t just let you go. Not when I know that you feel the same way.” Your eyes shoot up and look into his own. You notice his gaze trailing down to your lips and you feel your stomach churn with anticipation. He leans down and finally, connects your lips together. You didn’t think your first kiss with Jimin was ever going to happen. And although it was salty with your tears and inside of a cramped storage closet, it was perfect and everything you had been waiting for. You let yourself got lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, until he pulls away. He’s smiling at you so joyfully, but you can’t return his happiness.

“Jimin you know we can’t do this.”

“And why not?”

“Because it is extremely frowned upon for idols to date staff members. I could lose my job. It’s for the best if we don’t pursue this further.”

“We can talk to the company. If we keep things a secret from the public I don't think they would mind.” 

“This is a horrible idea. They could fire me right on the spot. They won’t do anything to you, you’re irreplaceable. I’m just a photographer that can easily be let go and filled in with someone else. Someone who has more sense than to fall for the one person they shouldn't.”

“I’ll talk to them, and convince them to let you stay.”

“What makes you think they’re going to agree?” Jimin giggles and his eye smile sends your heart thudding against your rib cage. He leans down and pecks another kiss to your lips and you absolutely melt.

“Well, I mean I’m not trying to boast or anything but most people are immune to my charms. I just have to flash these puppy eyes and a sweet smile, and I guarantee they won't say no.”

“Jimin you’re absolutely ridiculous there’s not way that’s going to work.” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“You want to bet?”

“I can’t believe that actually worked.” Jimin lets out a loud laugh when he sees your shocked expression.

“I told you! Now you have to buy me dinner.” 

“Alright fine. I can’t believe you’re going to make me pay on our first date.” You pout and he wags his finger back and forth at you.

“Nope. Not gonna work on me baby, sorry. We made a bet and you lost. So now you have to treat me.” You shake your head in disbelief but have a fond smile on your face.

“Where do you want to go for dinner?” 

“I don’t care. Anywhere is fine. I am just happy I get to be with you.” He kisses you again, this time more deeply but also with a sense of longing. Like he thought maybe the last time he kissed you was going to be it. When you two finally break apart you’re feeling a little bit dizzy at the swimming feeling in your head. You’re about to respond when you hear his stomach growl, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, let’s go get you some food, love.” 

“L-love?”

“Yeah, you mind if I call you that?”

“No! I actually really like it.” You smile and peck kiss his cheek, leading him outside and to your car to drive you both to dinner. You open the car door for him and he laughs. “You’re really going all out on this treating me thing aren’t you?”

“Only the best for you.” You close the door and enter in the drivers side, staring the car but before you can pull away Jimin reaches his hand over and holds yours. You turn to look at him and feel the butterflies flutter at the warm way he’s smiling at you.

“Thank you for staying with me and giving me a chance y/n. I know it’s going to be hard since we have to keep things on the down low..”

“Hey, Jimin it’s okay. That doesn't even really bother me. As long as I get to be with you that’s all that matters.” 

“You’re amazing you know that?”

“And so are you. Now let’s go get some food before I starve.” Jimin chuckles and agrees. He’s already so smitten with you and wants nothing more than to see that smile on your face always. He quietly tells you that he loves you, you don’t hear him but that’s okay. Some day he’ll tell you for real, but he’s going to make damn sure everyday until that point you know just how loved you are. 

[bubblyani]

Deeper Relations: 07

(Freddie Jackson x Reader)

A Freddie Jackson Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 07: The Declaration

Rating: Mature (18+)

Requested by: @97freaknik. Thanks for this gem!

Summary: Being the youngest sister of Jackie and Maggie, you were quite young when Freddie Jackson went to prison. Upon his return, you cannot help but recall your innocent love you had for him back then. And surprised by your transformation into womanhood, Freddie cannot help but form a desire towards you. Will a dangerously seductive attraction grow between the two of you? What will be the consequences?

Author’s Note: Even I was excited to write this ASAP. Hope y’all enjoy!

Series Masterlist HERE

Never did you have faith in the concept of heightened senses, until this moment. The muffled music from the dance floor finally reached your ears with clarity. And with eyes locked in the ceiling above you, it was finally possible for you to identify every single brush stroke that was lazily applied. A whiff of tobacco suddenly reached the ends of your nostrils, helping you spot the cloud of smoke that traveled towards where your eyes rested.

Turning your head, you watched Freddie. Sitting on a chair nearby, his pants remained unbuckled as he smoked. No words, not even a curse under the breath was uttered. Along with the air you took in to your lungs, you also took in the heavy silence. You did not know why. But you were compelled to respect his wishes. You sat up slowly, pulling the rest of your dress down, wiping off the sticky remnants of his release from your stomach with the material as you did so. With your your feet finally on the ground, the first thing you wanted to do was look for your missing panties.

It felt imperative that you retrieve it back. Not to wear it, for wearing it would be highly unhygienic. You just did not wish to cause suspicion. Getting on your knees, you bent down further, looking under the coffee table which was in front of the sofa. To your luck, you found it. Keeping the thin material crumpled up in your palm, you sat back on the sofa, watching Freddie. You hoped he would speak at least by now. You hoped he would at least turn back.

But he did not. All he could do was to keep smoking, as if no one else was there.

You felt a numbing feel in your chest. Was this it? You wondered. Could it be that the things he had said, only mattered until this very moment? Until the moment he finally had you to ravish? with your full consent? Perhaps it was a curiosity he had to explore. And being Freddie, he had his eyes set on that curiosity he made it convincing. And now that the deed was done, there was no need to look that way again. Perhaps you were too young, not experienced enough as his previous conquests, that you proved to be not as memorable. As those thoughts went through you, insecurity took over. You felt foolish. Could it be that all that you felt was simply moot?

Before you could ponder on it any further, you heard the creak on Freddie’s chair when he got up. Without a passing a glance, he exited the room. Except, he left with the door wide open. A part of you felt used. While the other part was just quiet. You waited for a few minutes until you finally decided to get up. Coming out of the room, the hallway was empty as the last time you saw it. Upon seeing your reflection on the door of the room right in front, you quickly rubbed the smudged lipstick off your chin. Your hair on the other hand, as wild as it was before.

You did not have the heart to return to the dance floor. With your eyes closed, you prayed for a way to leave the premises unnoticed.

“Y/N?”

You spotted Jimmy Jackson on your far right, standing on the end of the hallway, holding the doorknob. Crumpling the panties tighter in to a fist, you walked over to him.

Freddie had called his cousin to come take you home. And from what Jimmy informed you, there had been an altercation with you involved, and Freddie had saved you from it. That was all. You only hoped that really was all he had revealed to him.

“You alright?”

Jimmy asked, all the sudden. Genuine concern was evident in his voice as he drove you home. Looking over, you merely nodded at him, turning away to face the window once again. Quite taken by your silence, Jimmy felt uncomfortable himself. This was unlike you. With an eventful night comprising of a fight, he expected you to dramatically burst. Giving him an earful about everything down to the smallest detail. But not this silence.


“Don’t know what exactly happened but…” he began, “I’m glad that Freddie was there tonight-You…” he paused, “You sure you’re alright, Y/N?” Looking back at you, he could not help but repeat his question.

“Yeah” Short but informative. you finally answered as your eyes never left the window. Jimmy, he was really like a brother you never had. You adored him fully. But at that moment, you really preferred not to discuss anything further.

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(The next morning)

You woke up an hour later than you usually would in the weekends. With a dreamless sleep, it seemed that you have rested well.

Slowly sitting up, you were suddenly aware that you were a woman more than ever. With last night still fresh in your memory, it had affected your body and your soul. But you fancied that. It was not something you longed to forget. You felt a pang of guilt for even attempting to recall it, for it felt so secretive, it felt like a crime. But you were alone.

Clenching your stomach, you felt the presence of your opening with certainty. Clenching those muscles, your body recalled it all. The way it embraced him between your thighs, the way it held on to him tightly as he moved inside. Gripping the sheets on either sides of the bed, you found yourself grinding against the mattress, trying to find a shred of similarity of last night. But nothing came close.

The thought of last night, it made your eyes flutter, and made you drunk with desire. All you craved was to lay back down and daydream for the whole day. With your fingers dancing over your lips, you shuddered. Oh! If only those kisses you shared with him were longer. Moving down, your fingers had an agenda of its own, stopping by your neck just to recall his kisses there. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you permitted the finger to keep moving. Even over your oversized t-shirt, your heaving breasts grew extremely sensitive as your fingers stopped by each one. As they felt them, grazing back and forth in repetition until the nipples grew very erect. Oh ! If only he have had his way with them, you knew it would have been so much better. Biting your lip, you fell back to bed, you fingers digging inside your shorts with haste. Oh! If only there was a time machine, taking you back to when he touched you there. Feeling your fingers rhythmically work inside, you regretted not pleasing him more. You wished you could have undressed him, savored him in every possible manner. Your mouth dropped open, pairing up with your widened eyes, as you indulged in this erotic pleasure till finally you found your sweet release. Taking your fingers out, you pretend it was him instead. And when you did, it was silent to your utter frustration.

You were infatuated with him, and it was clearly obvious. You could finally admit it. No matter how he thought of you now, you wanted him. Even if there was no possibility, your mind cannot be changed, and it probably never will. Funny how the tables have turned.

Panting, you curled up on your side. Your feelings were finally visible before you with such organization, no trace of confusion was to be seen.

After a few minutes have passed, you jumped out of bed, and went out to make an important phone call.

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(Few hours later)

Your legs kept swinging, whilst you sat on the bench. The park nearby your house felt desolated on the week days. But it was the weekend that made it shine. Though the weather was cloudy, the crowds were tempted to come out, savoring their freedom. You sat patiently as you waited. But at the same time, a nervous feeling grew in your stomach.

You just hoped he would come.

And just in time, you saw him. With his arrival, that nervousness disappeared.

Hands digging deep in his jacket pockets, Marcus was finally within your sights walking over to you. Cheeks still pink from the morning chill, he appeared to look much younger than usual. He halted when he saw you stand up, giving him a small smile. Taking another step, you went ahead to surprise him with an embrace. An embrace that he did not take long to return.

“I’m sorry for last night…” you breathed, your voice muffled against his shoulder. Patting your back, Marcus exhaled deeply. “It’s alright…”

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You always could enjoy the silence with Marcus. That was one of the reasons he made a great friend. Sitting together side by side, you both watched the people passing by for a minute. Until you finally decided to speak:

“You were right, you know…” You began“You were right to ditch me that day…” Looking down, Marcus sighed heavily. “Y/N, for the last time…” he said, “I never thought bad of you… no matter what my parents said-” “No I mean…” you paused, “You were right to ditch me because…You and I…it doesn’t make sense” You said, looking at him, who appeared confused. Inhaling deeply, you continued, “Unfortunately, getting hurt…It made things easier for me to understand everything” you chuckled, “Can you imagine if you did come?…Oh! My family would have loved you instantly… So breaking up after that would probably just break their hearts…” you said. When he finally slowly nodded in realization, you sat closer to him.

“Marcus…I love you” you said, taking his hand “I do. But last night I finally realized. I was never in love with you”you added,  “And let’s be honest, neither were you”

Staring at you with wide eyes, Marcus sighed in relief. As if all the frustration and problems had just left his body, cleansing his soul. Later, squinting his eyes, he looked thoughtful.

“But then… what was it?” You heard him ask. Pressing your lips, you relaxed your shoulders. “I was in a shitty place…as you could recall. And you just being there for me…I…I misread it as something romantic. We both have been lonely for a while. So, it’s possible we were seeking some sort of comfort from each other?” You, looking up in mid-thought.

Chuckling, Marcus shot you a teasing look.

“Blimey, when did you become so insightful?”

“Since you punched me right in the heart, you wanker” you replied, sticking out your tongue, which made him laugh. “Hey-” he said, punching you on the arm playfully. As the laughter died down, you both could not help but reminisce.

“But you have to admit, the kissing was fun, right?” Marcus said, to which you nodded smiling. 
“Yeah it was…”you said, “You’ll make the next girl very happy, mate” you added while giving a thumbs up. The two of you kept your hands in your jacket pockets, sharing the silence in comfort. You suddenly felt Marcus turned to you.

“You alright now?”he asked, “About the family drama you mentioned?” He was truly your friend, sensing the uneasiness you had in your heart. Looking back at him, your eyes squinted, not knowing where to begin or what to say.

“I guess” you said, “…most of it anyways…” you continued “but… I don’t know”. For truthfully, you really did not know.

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One, Two and Three. Just like that, days passed. And it all felt quite normal. You appreciated that feeling more than ever before. You really did. All was well with your friends once again. Which meant a huge part of your life being healed. You spent the entirety of the weekend in their company. Just like the good old days. And you’ve never seen Heath so happy to have his two friends back, making your heart melt. All was well.

Yet, there was always one small thing, one unanswered question, that made you stare out into the distance thoughtfully every now and then.Truthfully it was nothing small. But you were in denial.

You heard nothing from Freddie ever since that night, and there was no sight of him around your house either. Did this silence mean there was nothing further to pursue on between them? Was he giving you the hint this way? Forget this, Y/N. That night of passion was merely a dream. He probably would have meant to say all that.

Perhaps this was a hint. But t it wasn’t so easy for you to get over. You found yourself thinking about it a lot everyday. And your heart made sure of that.

He would suddenly come to mind, in the most unexpected times. But it was mostly when you were in your lonesome, which was a relief for your thoughts were far from clean.

You would feel a fire in you, burning between your thighs every single time. Sometimes you would put the fire out, with showers of the harsh reality. But other times when you were less controlled and more vulnerable, you would let the fire burn more. You would do so by locking yourself up, and pleasuring yourself with the thought of him and that night.

Truthfully this was nothing small at all.

The more you tried to push the truth away, the more questions arose. Could his absence symbolize all was well with him and Jackie? Were the couple passionately in love once again after all these years? It it were the case you would have been overjoyed. If only you were not in love with your sister’s husband. Instead of joy, the mere thought it drove you to jealousy. It even made you worry: Was he finally convinced your sister was a better lover than you?

Or worse, was he not satisfied enough that he returned to philandering once again?Whoever it was, you were jealous. You wanted him, all to yourself. As bad as it sounded, you were not afraid to admit for it was the truth.

One morning, you heard Jimmy’s voice. Excited, you rushed over to the kitchen, only to find him alone, talking to Maggie affectionately as usual. No Freddie.

After breakfast, Jimmy offered you a ride to lectures, which you accepted. Not because your sister insisted, but you simply wanted to clear the awkwardness that remained since Friday night. You rarely were quiet with him usually. So that cruel silence was undeserving of him.

The drive was quiet at first. So you took the initiative.

“So um…how’s er…business?” You asked. Slowly turning his head towards your direction, Jimmy raised his eyebrows. “What?” Embarrassed, you clicked your tongue. “Come on Jimmy ! I’m not a kid. You know I know what you guys do” you said, “Might as well be open about it” you added that with a convincing tone. Chuckling softly, he focused on the road again. “Now there’s the Y/N I know…”he muttered, making you sigh in relief. All was finally well with the both of you, “It’s alright actually, much better than I thought” “What about Freddie?” You suddenly asked,  “Haven’t seen him around lately…” Trying to sound casual as possible, you badly wanted to know. Was it strange to ask? Possibly not, it was just your paranoia. Jimmy did not mind. “Yeah…Freddie’s been busy lately” he said, “And thats not bad, really. He’s actually more focused now…but he seems different. Not as cheery as before. As if something’s going on inside here” he said pointing at his temple, “I miss the old Freddie” he said with a sigh.

Nodding, you also looked ahead. “I get it…” you muttered “Hope it all works out though…”

The end of that conversation made you raise more questions inside. Was it special work stress? Or were you a part of the problem?

When you returned home that afternoon, you were greeted with a phone call. But certainly not from anyone of your familiarity.

“Hello, is this Ms.Y/N Summers?”  

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“Hello, Ms.Summers! I’m calling from the Rose Gardens Hotel. We would like to relay a message from a Mr.Freddie Jackson? Yes. We were to inform you that he will be waiting for you at our Hotel tomorrow at 2pm for a meeting”

This message, it kept replaying in your head. Throughout the entire night and the from the moment you woke up the next morning. Even chewing your breakfast, you were haunted by those words, leaving you with a confused expression.

The first time you’ve heard from Freddie after almost a week, and it still was not him who relayed the message. It seemed so formal. So unlike him. Truth be told, this had never happened before. 2pm, you have lectures at that time. So this did not seem possible. No can do. What was he trying to pull? Feeling uneasy, you decided to let the study pressure take over you and head for lectures.

The classes went on as usual, and you maintained your focus. But, the closer the hours got towards the designated time, your stomach began to turn. You grew nervous. During lunch break you could not even eat. Cause all you could do was wonder. Why ask for a meeting in this manner? Was it to reveal good news? Something you were dying to hear? Or was it something you dreaded to know? The bitter truth?

1pm. You walked slowly to the other lecture hall. It was a habit for you to get to the hall early after lunch in order to prepare with the lesson, or to even help Heath with his homework. With only an hour left, you grew more uneasy and curious.

Gripping on the doorknob, it was when you finally realized. Whether the good or the bad, it did not really matter. You simply needed to know. Never did you want to be one of those idiots who’ll live without any clarity. If heartbreak was meant to be, you will still survive for you were human. Besides, you would be a fool to miss out on meeting someone you missed with all your heart.

Turning back, you walked fast, bumping into Marcus and Heath. “Oi! Where you off to?” Heath asked. “Emergency…See ya tomorrow, lads” you replied loudly,  as you walked.

Whatever happens, better to know.

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The Rose Gardens Hotel was a quaint little place, situated bit further away. But you managed to get there by bus quite easily. Walking over to the front desk, you identified yourself and asked for Freddie, to which they merely responded silently with a paper that had the Room Number. So confidential, you wondered if he chose this place for a reason.

Walking down the hallway, you felt concerned, but more than that you felt nervous. How were you going to react? You felt like a lovestruck teenager.

Finally, standing before the door, you stared at the number. Whatever happens, better to know. With that reminder, you knocked on the door.

You held your breath when the door, revealing Freddie’s face. As much as you were nervous, you felt warmth spreading through you the moment you saw his soft smile. You smiled back. How he still managed to look so young and handsome, you did not know.

“Hey…” He breathed. “Hi…” you replied. “I was worried you might not come…” he said, letting you enter. He sounded so different. Quite shy to be specific. “I had to…” you began, pausing upon seeing him close the door with a worried expression, “I don’t think I could have lived not knowing anything”

The room was quite adorable, furnished with a Kingsize Bed, Bedside cupboards, a Television, Writing desk and an old fashioned Armchair by the window. Sitting on the edge of the neatly made bed, you watched Freddie stand by the window. Staring through it, he did not look at you. The tension suddenly grew in the room, and proceeded to brim with it. “You had class?” He asked suddenly. “Having…now.” You said, making him turn to you, “But it’s alright…” you dismissed it with your hand and an awkward chuckle. “Right…”Freddie said, “ Right…” turning back to the window, returning to his pondering. You baldy wanted to know what on earth was going on. Given his behavior you could tell he was nervous, with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing the top of his nose bridge.

“Y/N I…” Putting both hands on his hips, he turned to you, “I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this anymore” He did not sound angry, instead he sounded desperate. And it scared you. Could this really be it? Him taking everything back, and nothing really happened?

“Do what, Freddie?” You heard yourself ask. Letting out a deep breath, he kept looking at you.

“Denying how I feel…about you” You stood up the moment you heard it. A “what?” left your lips inaudibly involuntarily. To which he nodded to.

“All that I said about you before…I wasn’t lying” he said, pointing at you with his index finger, “You…you are different. Something about you I just…can’t fucking put my finger on. I can’t fucking believe you are even from the same family as them” he scoffed, “And after that night…” his eyes turned intoxicated, as if he relived that moment in his head, “Y/N…” he breathed, taking few steps closer:

“I’m crazy about you” He said, his voice desperately soft.

With a dropped jaw, and with your hand clutching your chest, you wondered if there was any trace of breath left in your body.

“Freddie …I…” you began. Closing his eyes with frustration, he covered his face. 
“If you’re going to refuse, then-”

“Who said that?”

Taking his hands off his face, he looked at you with shock upon hearing your response. You walked to him, finally standing only a few inches away. Looking down, you held your own hands as you spoke:

“I’m sorry…for pushing you away from the start. For breaking your heart every… single …time. It’s just…It seemed so wrong, you have to understand.” Looking up you scoffed, “This is fucking crazy. This is fucked up. And I was worried whether this was all just a game to you” you said, “But…” your voice grew soft, “…after everything, after that night, when you rescued me, when you…” you paused, shuddered by thought of him inside you, “I just had it.” You said, “No more silent suffering…” you added, reaching out to take his hand. Finally holding it with consciousness, it felt nice in yours. Looking at it, you traced your manicured fingers over his new scar, reminding you of the fresh cut during family dinner, “I wanted you ever since I was a little girl…” looking up, “…and I want you even still…No! Even more than that. I-”

“I love you…”

Your eyes widened. Averting his eyes, he admitted it shyly in a low voice. It was simply unbelievable. The one line you wanted to hear from him, all your life. And there it finally was. Happiness bloomed out of every cell of your body.

In response, all you could do was to bend your head, and kiss his scar with the purest affection. Looking up at him, you smiled fully:

“I love you too”

Seeing your sunshine of a smile, Freddie could not help but smile in return. With noses brushing against one another, patience was nonexistent as you both went in for a kiss.

The last time you kissed Freddie Jackson, you kissed him with heart, but it did not have enough of the heart you had at this moment. With both parties finally making their declarations, all was finally out in the open. It felt right. It felt perfect. And it was more passionate than ever before. With your arms around his neck, you pulled him in, helping him rest his hands comfortably on your waist. Along with the expressive kisses, came in the lust without hesitation. He surprised you with his eager tongue begging for entrance to meet yours. You permitted it instantly, moaning into the kiss as you felt the tongues intertwine, deepening the affectionate ritual. Your moans intensified when his hands swiftly moved over to cup your buttocks once again.

“Fuckin’ Hell!” He breathed in your lips, “How the fuck did you turn out so beautiful? You’ve really changed so much…oh!” Groaning in frustration, his palms held on to the full curvaceous proportionate posterior you possessed. You smiled in mischief.

“I grew up, you perv” you teased, to which he laughed heartily.

“Come here!” He growled, interrupting your teases by pressing his lips against yours.

With one hand still practically making itself home on your buttocks, the other slithered in front, impatiently trying to pull your tucked in t-shirt out of your jeans. Getting the message, you offered your assistance, taking the shirt off over your head and tossing it aside. When you did it oh so passionately, you saw him stare at you with hunger, with eyes heavily doused with lust. Feeling bolder now, you teased him even further, staring into his eyes, slowly unhooking the lace bra and letting it fall off your frame. Those lustful eyes of his grew bigger. When the man was finally given what he really wanted, how would he act? What would he do? Those were the questions that came to your head as you felt the cool air in the room caressed your exposed torso.

“Ever since that night in the shower, I kept undressing you in my head…” he said, in a deep voice, “But none of that could be compared to this…” he breathed heavily, “This…You…are fucking perfect” he admitted, raising his hands in an instant, but keeping them at bay as he stared at your exposed frame. Taking both his hands, you kept them on your breasts.

“Well, there’s no need to imagine now…”

You purred, opening your mouth in a sultry manner. Growling with frustration, Freddie kissed you violently in response. Finally, you felt a sense of satisfaction with his hands feeling you at a place that craved for his touch. Your heaving breasts, they fitted in his hands so perfectly. And regardless of your overwhelming arousal, but just sheer brush pf his palms, you felt your nipples stand upright all the sudden.

As much as you longed to be touched, caressed and teased, another growing desire was reminded. Backing him up, you pushing his lightly, forcing him to fall on to the armchair. He looked genuinely surprised as you got on your knees, and spread his knees wide open in order to get in between to kiss him once again. Your hands grew busy, running them over his thighs, later sneakily rubbing your right palm over his clothed manhood.

“Oh…” Freddie chuckled into the kiss, “Someone’s hungry?…” he purred. 
“What can I do?” You said, as you unzipped his pants, “You were the tease that night…coming in to piss” you added, making you both chuckle. Finally, you could both laugh about that night instead of dreading. You only wanted good memories. Especially when it came to memories with him.

Taking your sweet, sweet time, you gently pulled out his erect shaft, that sprung out from his underwear with ease. You stared at it with hunger, you took in every inch of it with your eyes, letting your nimble fingers hold it and run over it like it was most precious object. Freddie moaned in a manner that made you weak.

“Fuck…” he said, “I love this view…” he looked proud, as he watched you. Pleased with the result, you flashed a naughty smile.

“Word on the street is that you’ve been working hard” you purred, licking your lips with a genuine appetite, “I think it’s time you’re…appreciated”

As he threw his head back on the armchair, moans escaped Freddie’s lips. They escaped when he felt your tongue take its own journey. When it showed affection with every lick,  leaving no inch unattended. When your mouth fully proceeded to take him in whole, indulging him into completion, until he finally ran out of words.

______________________________________

Chapter 8 HERE

Tagged: @starlightmornings​​ @rogerfxckingtaylor​​ @daydreamerinadazedworld​​ @courtney-thevixeniris​​ @kimmietea​​ @shigarakitomuraxxxdabi​​ @tealaquinn​​

Check My MASTERLIST here :)

[scorpio-skies]

Bless me with your OTP!

I know everyone’s expecting Noranse, but I’m going to shake things up with Nara because why not! I love em just as much and they have an interesting dynamic! ;D

I was tagged by the amazing @slothssassin ! 

Tagging; @eluvisen, @mrninjapineapple, @beckiboos, @ariejul, @sociallyacceptablemadness, @lothrilzul, @val-rampage, @solesurvivorkat , @metalforhands, @mars-colony, @lookbluesoup , @tarberrymentats @marvilus73  and anybody else who’d like to do this! ♥

Do they fight often? If so, what is their dynamic like?

Nora and Nate often bicker over little things, though they’re usually harmless and end fairly quickly. However, when they have real fights, things can escalate and their home become a place of glacial silence and tension. The cause of these fights usually boils down to three things; Nate’s alcoholism, Nora’s rigid morals vs Nate’s social circle, and Nate’s perfectionism. 

They both have the bad habit of bottling things up and not talking to each other, silently stewing until they calm down. They try to never sleep on an argument however, and always tried discussing things before they fall asleep. 

The only exceptions were when Nate would get too riled up and do what he’s done throughout his life; run away and seek solace at the bottom of a bottle. When he goes sober, Nate walks their dog and has a few smokes to clear his head instead. 

Angry Nora prefers to cook out her rage, taking it out on the chopping board loudly enough that Nate instantly knows when she’s angry. The cooking is still delicious and edible, and they often talk out their frustrations over the food -- if Nora has calmed down. If she hasn’t, she’ll comfort eat all the sweets she made herself! 

Who is the most skeptical of the two?

This is a tough one -- neither of them are skeptics, really. Nate has more of a feel for people however, because he’s friends with all types. He knows there’s good and beauty in the world, but he’s also seen the worst of humanity, which really comes out in his PTSD following Anchorage. I’d say Nate’s the most skeptical, though post-war Nora definitely has a reality check and hardened up, although she still lucked out by meeting some of the good people in the sea of bad.

Who would be most likely to suggest a night of dancing?

Nate 1000% -- he’s the guy who knows everybody and can queue jump like a V.I.P! Nora’s a bit more shy and awkward (until she’s had a few drinks) and would only join Nate sometimes, though she’d head home fairly early. When out on his own however, Nate would be out until the morning rush hour, typically heading to bars long after their closing hours and hanging with the special regulars. He also loves to dance and sing so it was always a great time for him! 

If they’re alone or in a quiet venue however, Nora’s always up for a quiet slow dance between them.

What would they do if the other was injured in battle?

Nate would fall back on his military training, dealing with immediate threats before tending to Nora. He’d then prioritise her safety over the mission and work to cut them a path out of there. 

Pre-war Nora wouldn’t know what to do (in the battle, or first aid wise), but post-war with Brotherhood training, Nora would do the same, patching him best she knew how and retreating to the nearest medics ASAP. 

Unless innocents were endangered, they would stay by the others bedside until they were stable.

How do their fighting styles complement each other?

Nate and Nora adopted completely different styles -- Nate prefers combat armour and moving stealthy but fast. He’s great with assault rifles, though he’s always shone when it comes to CQC being a big guy. He moves a lot faster than most can guess and with lethal precision, though if he can drop enemies at a distance, he prefers it. 

Nora, on the other hand, was trained by Danse. She adores power armour and feels near unstoppable in it. Whereas Nate would rather slip in, Nora would rather kick the door down and bulldoze any in front of her, followed up by ashing with her rifle. 

In battle, the pair function rather poorly because Nate becomes obsessed with Nora’s safety to the detriment of both of them. They could work well together with Nora being the big, steely distraction allowing Nate an opening to flank enemies, but Nate’s fear clouds his judgement and all he sees is his wife in danger.

Do they want children? Does it frighten them? How many do they want?

They both want children and to have a family together. Nora would be happy with two children as being an only child she felt lonely. Nate would be happy with two, though he would love to have more as he has a very strong paternal instinct. 

Pre-war, Nate had a very strong fear that he would fail as a father due to his mother’s influence, and lack of a caring father in his own life. He’s also petrified that his mother would find out and want to come into his children’s lives, which he would not stand for. 

Nora worried about being a good parent too, but her fears weren’t so deeply rooted as Nate’s because she knew she had her family support network to fall back on. 

Post war, they’re both frightened at the thought of raising their children in such a dangerous world, but it also serves as a powerful drive for the pair of them to make it as secure for their children as possible, that they might enjoy a childhood in spite of the threats. Chances are they’d also adopt alongside having their own child if they met an orphan who needed them. 

What happened when they took them home to their families? If their families aren’t in the picture anymore, how do they feel about it?

Nate has complete no contact with his family. His situation is complicated to say the least. His mother fell pregnant out of wedlock and had a hasty wedding to a man who was clearly not Nate’s father -- and his mother played cruel games with that fact, preventing Nate’s (secretly step) father from ever bonding with him. As a result, he and his ‘father’ were more awkward housemates than family who were often pitted against each other. 

Nate’s younger half-brother made more of an effort, but as he was the ‘favoured child,’ Nate harboured a lot jealousy and bitterness towards him that poisoned their relationship. It grew worse when their mother had them competing, and suddenly began fawning over Nate when he joined the military.

His mother he hates like nothing else. Part of him still craves her love and validation, but he fears that she’ll poison his new family with her toxicity and knows her affection is born purely from what she stands to gain.

His mother comes from old money, and her family disowned her after her shock pregnancy and sudden marriage to a ‘lesser class.’ Initially they pretended ‘the bastard’ didn’t exist, but when he joined the military he suddenly ‘made them proud’ and his lack of a known father was suddenly a boon because his father might not be so common after all -- and the family wanted a male heir who would take their name and continue the lineage. Because of this, his mother saw Nate as her meal ticket back to the good life and the family bank account and suddenly cared about him again. 

She did meet Nora once, wheedling Nate’s latest home from one of his friends -- but it wasn’t for long. Nora was wary of her following what Nate had confided, and he came home partway through her visit. He exploded and chased her from the building, feeling furious and terrified. Shortly after, he and Nora moved to Sanctuary Hills, telling no one but Nora’s family where they had gone. 

Nora’s family loved Nate immediately. He’s a natural charmer, and as a patriotic soldier her parents warmed to him quickly -- it also helped that neither Nate or Nora mentioned he was couch surfing and had no address of his own at the time. 

Evangeline, Nora’s cousin and BFF, liked Nate but was also initially wary that he might be a player and she, as a police officer, was less than thrilled at his many murky contacts and friends. Seeing his genuine adoration and loyalty for Nora as well as his good heart, she was won over, which eased his welcome into the extended family. 

He now attends every family gathering and is honestly sometimes more enthusiastic about them than Nora.

Nate adores Nora’s family and feels honoured and touched that they accepted him and go out of their way to make him part of the unit. He finally feels like he has a real family with them.

How does each person show affection towards the other?

They’re both casually intimate with each other - little touches, embraces, kisses and snuggles. When out in public, they’ll walk close with their fingers entwined and when they sit they naturally lean into each other. There’s thoughtful gifts between them, and, especially on Nate’s part, big romantic gestures.

Who cries the most? Who is better at comforting?

Nate cries more than Nora -- he’s suffered a lot in his life, and is typically more open with his emotions. When Nora cries, she always tries to hide it while Nate struggles to. Nate comforts through hugs and gentle pep-talks, whilst Nora comforts much the same way, but with added comfort food. When the time’s right, they’ll attempt to distract whoever they’re comforting with something fun -- Nate’s likely to offer to talk over drinks, or go for a drive when he’s sober, while Nora will suggest movies and more food til they’re ready to talk or cheered up.

Who is the bigger flirt?

Nate. Nora’s quite shy about flirting and a hopeless romantic. Nate however is a casual flirt -- he’d never stray from Nora or cheat on her, but he’s naturally flirtatious and can’t help himself. He loves making people feel beautiful and confident, and sometimes it doesn’t quite register that he might have gone too far and led someone on. It’s definitely led to problems, and at times Nora’s gotten jealous and angry at him over it, though she’s come to the understanding that that’s just who he is - -and at the end of the day, it’s her he loves and comes home to, no one else. No one else. >:3

[sleepywinchester]

Behind The Story S2 | Pt. 24

Summary: It’s time for Y/N to make some tough decisions. Will she make the right one for herself and her family?

Author: sleepywinchester (prev. deanwinchester-af)

Characters: Jensen, Reader, Jared, Gen and Cast Cameos.

Pairings: Single!Jensen x Actress!Reader (Nina Dobrev = Faceclaim)

Words: 2,295

Beta: N/A

Warnings: none really :)

Disclaimer: NO HATE TOWARDS DANNEEL! We wuv her in this acc but this is just for science lol

Visual Credit: @musemisha​

Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND SURPRISE! I’ve had this chapter in my docs for God knows how long... I kept telling myself I would upload when I felt it was ready (and the last chapters were done) but I just wanted to share. I really hope you guys like this.  ♥

Title: Though Decisions 

MASTERLIST

The air inside your hotel suite was chilly and pleasant.  Halsey’s songs filled your hotel suite as you packed everything into reusable boxes. Shooting season for Arrow was finally over and it was time to go back home for good. It was bittersweet to pack what you have been calling home for the past couple of months but you were more excited about going back to spending more time with your family. Working on two successful TV shows began to wear you off after a couple of months into shooting. It was a complete surprise when the part as Cat woman for CW’s superheroes universe was a total hit, making you stay extra months on the show. At the beginning when you took this gig, they only spoke about shooting for a couple of weeks, max a month but your character got so popular that the couple weeks turned into a couple of months.

The deep talk you had with Stephen a couple of months ago had left you thinking about your future. Months have passed but it still roamed through your mind. Being cat woman was a dream come true, being able to perform such a powerful and fun character was a milestone for your career but sometimes you asked yourself, is it all worth it?

Suddenly you heard the voice of your favorite man and all the weight from the worries drifted away. Jensen’s deep and beautiful voice sounded through the speaker. 

“Babe?” Jensen’s real-life voice. 

You spun at the sound of Jensen’s voice coming from the door. You’ve been waiting for Jensen all night to get here for SPN Convention in Toronto. You’ve also been waiting for him to help you move all your stuff back home in Austin.

“Jensen?!” You screamed giving in to the urge to jump on his arms. 

Jensen caught your body, holding your legs that were crossed around his body. He laughed loudly, taking a moment to kiss you. “Hey.”

“I’ve missed you so damn much,” you replied, still on his arms.

He looked down for a second. “I see,” he smirked.

You both chuckled before he put you down on your own feet. 

Jensen just had finished shooting week for Supernatural and took a flight to meet you in Toronto. When you just finished shooting for Arrow and was ready to move back home.

“Is everything already packed?” Jensen looked around as he took his jacket off. There was a surprise in his eyes and that made you chuckle. 

You shrugged shamelessly, “Yeah.”

“I thought I was going to help you,” he looked at you with an eyebrow perked up. 

“I know,” you grabbed his jacket, “but I got bored and… you know how I am.” You placed the jacket into the closet, where the only clothing items are three outfits that will last you through the convention weekend and moving day.

“In that case, whatcha’ think if we go down to SNS? Everyone is there, even Jared and Gen.” Jensen’s look and proposal were highly tempting, given the fact that you haven’t seen the gang or had fun in a long time. 

“You know what… Let’s go. Let’s have fun.” 

Jensen instantly hugged you and kissed you when you accepted. “That’s my girl.” Grabbing quickly his suitcase, murmuring that he was going to take a quick shower before. 

You smirked following his lead into the bathroom because you also needed a quick shower after so much packing. Once Jensen saw you walk into the bathroom he understood what it meant.

 He was shirtless, standing in front of the wide shower door, beginning to get wet from the shower, “I guess we can skip the first few songs.”

“I guess so,” you purred, kissing his lips with passion.

/ / / 

“Get your ass down here, ASAP!” Jensen shouted, “Says Rob and Jared.”

You chuckled walking into the living room, your husband turned his head towards your direction. Jensen’s jaw-dropping instantly the second he took a full look of you. 

“Damn,” he whispered to himself. “Babe-,” he said as he stood up from the couch. “You look-”

As he tried to speak his emotions you grabbed the leather jacket resting on the chair and put it on, making sure your hair was messy yet stylish at the same time. You were wearing a deep v neck black blouse and tight dark skinny jeans. Jensen sighed harshly, 

“smoking hot. Are those real leather?” He touched your thigh-high leather boots, pressing on your thighs and giving you a sexy look as he did so.

You smirked kissing his lips and saying, “Yes.”

“Mmm,” he licked his lips, “do we have to leave?”

“Yes! If we don’t appear now, I assure you, they will come looking for us.” You told him walking towards the door. 

“But you look so good!” He shouted following your steps into the elevator.

Once inside you grab him by the collar of his leather jacket. He was holding you closely and kissing your lips and neck. It was like you two were too horny teenagers that couldn’t stop touching each other. 

“Get a room you two!” Jared’s voice suddenly joined.

You and Jensen instantly groaned while still extremely close to each other. “Should I just hit the closing doors buttons?” Jensen asked you, completely ignoring Jared’s presence.

Looking at Jared standing in the middle of the doors you shake your head, shifting your eyes back to your favorite stud. 

“Na’, we said we were going to have fun,” you told Jensen.

“I have a lot of ways we could be having fun… Upstairs. In our bed. Naked.” Jensen replied. 

Listening to Jared’s annoyed sigh was extremely amusing. “Seriously guys?” He said. 

“What?” You and Jensen fake snapped at the same time.

“Everyone is waiting for you two horny assholes,” Jared replied. “Including Rob’s impatient ass.” 

Going back to Jensen you sighed, cleaning the red lipstick off his lips. “We can continue what we started later.”

“Promise?” He holds your hand. 

“Mhm,” you kissed his lips. 

“Oh my God,” Jared rolled his eyes and began walking towards the green room. 

You and Jensen laughed once again, it was truly amusing to see him annoyed at the extreme PDA you and Jensen were having. It’s been a while since you could annoy Jared. It’s also been a while since you’ve seen him. Walking into the green room, you and Jensen were greeted by everyone. They were all excited to finally see you after such a long time. 

“You look so hot!” Brianna said with excitement. 

You gave her a big smile, “You too, babe!” 

You two turned heads towards Jensen who cleared his throat. 

“You too, Jensen. You always look hot as fuck,” Brianna told him and he instantly laughed. “Honestly, you two look like rock stars. It’s so hot, I can’t stand it.”

“Yeah - These two look like horny rock stars. They were making out hard in the elevator.” Jared joined the conversation with Gen by his side. 

You winked at your best friend who looked gorgeous as always. 

“Let them be,” Gen said, “They haven’t seen each other in two weeks.”

“Exactly!” Jensen shouted, holding you closely by your waist. He looked at you in the eye, “Let us be.” Kissing you in the lips after finishing the sentence. 

“Where’s my husband?!” Brianna jokily shouted. 

“Home with your kid,” Kim joined. “So - switching this fuckery talk. What are you guys singing?” 

You rose both eyebrows, “Who said anything about singing?” 

Jensen slipped off your side and walked away for a second, leaving you alone with a glaring Kim. She raised her eyebrows at your response and shakes her head. 

“You’re telling me you both came downstairs to SNS and you are not performing?” Kim seriously glared at you and Jensen. “I call bull.”

You sighed, “Okay. I’ll sing but I need booze.” 

“I got you, babe,” Jensen he joined your side again with a cup of most likely to be whiskey and coke. “What song?” 

“Hmmm,” you thought for a second. 

You and Jensen were both wearing all black outfits with leather. It was obvious that both had highly flirtatious feelings that night. Yet above all that flirtatious sensations you both looked very badass and definitely like rock stars. 

“Wanted Dead or Alive?” You asked him with a smirk. 

Jensen returned the smirk, returning the look, “Let’s do it.” 

“Jensen you’re up! Whipping Post?” Rob strolled in from the stage.

“I’ll go first and then you join?” Jensen looked at you and you nodded as an answer. He kissed your cheek before walking out to the stage, making the fans went wild and scream. They were seriously not expecting him. 

“You guys look like two honeymooners,” Gen said.

You grinned, “I feel like a honeymooners. A lot of changes are going up and even though I feel bad for some of the decisions I’ve made, I know the future is going to be brighter.” 

Genevieve nodded agreeing with your words. “You’re doing it for your family and for yourself. I haven’t seen you this genuinely happy in a while.” 

“I haven’t seen myself this happy in a while,” you grinned again, having a sip of your whiskey. “It’s like everything is taking place since I decided to leave.” You looked around for a second, “Then at the same time, it feels bad that I won’t be part of this anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Jared joined. “You are a big part of everything Supernatural is. You are still part of the cast of the Supernatural family, of our family. Your place in this family is never going to change. You are Y/N Ackles and that is never going to change.”

Jared’s words made you think that you may have been overreacting the consequences of your choices. He was right, it didn’t matter what happened or what decisions you made, you were still part of this family. 

“Thank you, guys.” You told them.

At that moment you heard Jensen finishing up Whipping Post. 

“Thanks, y’all,” he spoke through the mic, “I’m going to stick around and do one more…” 

You chuckled at the crowd screaming with excitement in response.

“I’m gonna ask to have some help from a friend  of mine…” Jensen said. “Honestly she’s more than a friend if you guys know what I mean.” At that moment everyone screamed even louder, it was obvious they were making assumptions it was you. “She’s the myth, the legend, Y/N Ackles everyone.” 

Jensen saying your name was a queue for you to walk out of the curtains with the microphone on hand. The camera flashes increased as your big smile did. You gave Rob a hug and waved at the band, followed by a kiss on Jensen’s lips and then glanced at the crowd. 

“Hey, y’all,” you spoke. 

The energy in that room was warming and filled with so much excitement. They were good vibes and you missed that. They were happy to have you that night and you were excited to be there with them. It’s been a long time since you attended an SNS concert. 

“Ain’t he a rockstar?” You pointed at Jensen smirking. 

At that moment the band began to play the intro of Wanted Dead or Alive.

“Can you feel it?!” Jensen shouted as he moved by the rhythm of the band. You and Jensen were doing the same movements and laughed at the moment you two realized it. 

“It's all the same, only the names will change

Every day, it seems we're wastin' away

Another place where the faces are so cold

I drive all night just to get back home,” Jensen looked at your eyes and winked.

“I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride. I'm wanted-,”

“Waaaanteeed,” you sang the melody. 

“Dead or alive…” Both of you sang together, “Wanted dead or alive”.

You prepped to sing the next verses.

“Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it's not for days

The people I meet always go their separate ways

Sometimes you tell the day

By the bottle that you drink

And times, when you're all alone all you do is think

I'm a cowgirl, on a steel horse I ride,” you moved your hips.

“I'm wanted (wanted) dead or alive

Wanted (wanted) dead or alive

Oh, and I ride

Oh, and I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride,” you and Jensen sang the chorus together.

“I'm wanted dead or alive

I walk these streets

A loaded six-string on my back

I play for keeps 'cause I might not make it back

I been everywhere, still, I'm standing tall

I've seen a million faces

And I've rocked them all,” Jensen sang the verses.

As he sang the verse you dance and backed him up with the melodies. It was one of those moments where you felt like a complete rockstar and sang your heart out in that stage. 

For the last chorus, you and Jensen stood face and sang.

“I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride

I'm wanted (wanted) dead or alive

I'm a cowboy, I got the night on my side

I'm wanted (wanted) dead or alive

And I ride, dead or alive

I still drive (I still drive) dead or alive

Dead or alive, dead or alive, dead or alive, dead or alive”

The feeling of ending a song was always electrifying. You much needed that after months of not performing in SNS. The song was over but the crowd wasn’t over, they were clapping and screaming. You laughed and smiled at them. 

“I’ve missed y’all,” you said, “see you guys tomorrow? Gold Panel?” 

You received more shouts and took that as a yes.

“Goodnight,” you said leaving the stage with Jensen. 

________________________________________________________________

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