#i remember the exact day he died when i was in high school and i remember feeling slammed with the news even though he was just guy from...

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - NEED

A/N: CHAPTER TEN is here! I'm sorry it took me so long. I just had a lot on my plate. Enjoy!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: I have decided to not give any warnings. Please remember this story is 18+.

Summary: Things move forward between Logan and Y/N.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience. MINORS DNI!

Words: 4300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Nine

LOGAN HOWLETT - NEED

Jean stood next to a hospital bed, looking down at unconscious Y/N. She had a chart in her hands, checking the data she collected the past three days. Three days - that’s how long Y/N was out of the present. 

Logan didn’t want to leave her side once they removed the collar from his neck. The wounds immediately healed, and he became a new person. Jean managed to send Logan away. He insisted on staying by Y/N’s side until she’d open her eyes. Luckily, Jean persuaded him quickly. Even Storm wanted to remain by her side all the time. The friendship between her and Y/N blossomed fast. 

When Storm arrived with the rest of the team, she was horrified when she found Logan wounded and weak next to an unconscious body. There was a slight fear Logan wouldn’t be able to heal from the wounds. When Hank and Jean freed Logan from the collar, the healing happened quickly. No one would tell he was fighting for his life hours ago. 

Jean enjoyed the silence in the medical room. The only thing she heard was the beeping sound of a heart monitor. 

The door to the room opened. Charles wheeled in, followed by Hank, Logan and Storm. Before anyone could ask anything, Jean gave them an answer. “No change. She’s stable, well, but still out.” 

Charles was the first to approach the bed. His hands caressed Y/N’s exposed forearm, where he kept staring at the lightly radiating skin. It was fascinating. Charles didn’t have an exact answer for that. All they knew was that it had to do something with her mutation. 

“You said it happened before?” The question was for Logan. 

“Yes. It was the day we saved the boy and came back here. I noticed her eyes glowing.” 

Charles thought about it. “Mutations can evolve. It is one thing you get to master your powers and manipulate them. In some cases, more abilities can be developed. I think this could be the case. Y/N’s mutation is evolving. I believe ner powers will rise to the surface very soon.” 

“So, what? You will test her like a lab rat,” Logan scoffed, not fond of the idea. “Hadn’t she had enough of that?” 

“I’m not saying we will test on her. That will only happen if she’d want to,” Charles said. “We have to wait until she awakes. It can be minutes, hours, or even days. Her mind is locked. I can’t get inside, no matter how much I try.”

“You said she created a force field around the whole school,” Storm looked at Logan. “Her energy got drained to the last bit. No wonder she’s been out for three days now. She’s never done anything like that before. She could have died.” 

Jean approached the woman on the bed. She grabbed her hand, scanning the skin. “Why has this been happening for three days?” 

“I forgot to mention one thing,” Logan cleared his throat. He crossed his arms over his chest. It got everyone’s attention. “The leader of the Trask unit that came to school was Y/N’s mother.” 

“What?” they all said in unison. All eyes were on him.

Logan nodded. “After the accident with Y/N’s sister, her mother joined Trask Industries. She wanted revenge for her lost child. Turns out, she became a respected, high-ranked person there.” 

There was silence. The information about Y/N’s mother was shocking. “That is a plot twist,” Storm commented. 

“Y/N didn’t know about it, just to clarify,” Logan added strictly. 

“She had her eyes on me since I escaped the lab in Salem,” said Y/N’s voice from the bed. 

They all turned to the voice. Logan was the first by her side, staring at her face. Her eyes were open a crack. She was getting used to the light. Y/N blinked a few times before her eyes moved to look at Logan. He saw that her irises were glowing like the colours of the force field - silvery and blue. When she blinked again a few times, they turned back to normal. 

“JJ was a trap,” she continued. “It gave away my location.  Because of me, the children were in danger. Everything that happened was my fault.” 

“No,” Storm walked to her from the other side. She grabbed Y/N’s hand. “You couldn’t know that would happen. All you wanted was to save the boy. And you did it. How could you know it was a trap? Also, you protected the whole school. The building is standing still because of you.” 

A yawn escaped Y/N’s lips. “Is everyone okay?” 

“Yes,” Jean nodded. She had a gentle smile on her face. “They are all back in school. Colossus took them away just in time. The building is standing, and it is all thanks to you.” 

“Good,” Y/N closed her eyes. “I’m glad no one got hurt.” 

Charles opened his mouth, ready to ask a question. Quickly, he shut it, dismissing what he wanted to ask. “We’ll talk later. Rest,” he suggested. 

As they walked away, Y/N opened her eyes and found Logan staring at her. His face was filled with worry. She winked at him. It was a sign to stay. Everyone left while he remained by her bed. The door closed. They were officially alone. 

Slowly, she pushed her body up until she was sitting. She stretched her arms. Logan got closer to the bed. Her eyes traced over his body. She realised he wore a simple black T-shirt that perfectly showed his muscles. Her mouth opened, almost dropping down on her lap. Damn. There was an urge to touch his stomach, to feel the abs underneath her touch. She clenched the bedsheet tightly.

“How are you feeling?” Logan’s voice brought her back to reality. 

Y/N gulped. “Tired,” she replied. “It might be because I’ve been out for… how long?” 

“Three days.” 

“That long? Shit,” she shook her head in disbelief. Y/N moved her body. She sat at the edge of the bed, legs hanging in the air. “How are you? What did I miss?” 

“A stamp of approval from Scott,” Logan laughed when he said that. “And I’m fine.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped. “Wow, I was expecting everything but that. Wait ‘til he hears about my mother being a part of Trask Industries. He will hate my guts once again. If not more.” 

Logan’s eyes took in every detail of Y/N’s face. She had an amused smile on her face. Her eyes were shining with her natural colour. Her hair was all messy and tangled. And yet, she was the perfect thing he ever saw. Logan couldn’t believe he was able to kiss her that night. That dammed night when they were attacked. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Y/N noticed it. She took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for what was about to come. She could feel it in the air. It got thicker and heavier with lust and something beautiful. She didn’t have the time to whisper his name. Logan’s lips found hers in a feverish kiss. One hand grabbed her by the neck to pull her body as close to his as possible. He had to lean down to reach for her lips. 

Y/N’s left hand was feeling the hard abs on his abdomen. The other hand pressed against his cheek. She could feel the beard scratching the skin of her palm. How come he was so hot with that mutton chops beard? He could pull it off.

Logan broke the kiss. He sighed, annoyed. Y/N raised a brow. It was a silent question. She wanted to know why he stopped. “You’ll have a visitor in a few seconds.” 

“Ah,” she chuckled. Y/N found it amusing. Logan was visibly unhappy someone had to interrupt them again. On the other hand, she admired his advanced hearing. No one needed to know something was happening between them. It was too soon to show. The first thing they needed to do was to talk about it and define what this thing was between them.

As he stepped back, the door opened. Kitty walked in with Jerome by her side. Y/N’s eyes lit up when she saw him. “Hi, JJ!” A smile spread across her face. 

“He wanted to see you,” Kitty said when they approached the bed. “He heard us when we talked in the hallway. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” Y/N nodded quickly. Her eyes trailed to Logan. He had his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the child. Y/N wanted to laugh at him. It was funny he was jealous of a kid. When JJ sat on the bed next to her, she patted his head.

“Are you feeling okay?” JJ asked her. “I’ve heard what happened. Everyone knows what happened. You saved the school!” 

Y/N blinked a few times. She didn’t know what to say to that. “Yeah, she did,” Logan stepped in. “She got to warn us before the attackers came.”

“That’s badass,” Jerome said excitedly. “How did you know about it? Do you have a new mutation? My friends asked about you,” he kept talking fast. “You are like a celebrity among the students. You are a hero,” he explained. 

“Oh,” Y/N was not pleased with that information. She didn’t want to be a hero. “There are better heroes out there. Look at Professor Xavier or Storm, Kitty… they are the real heroes here. I just did what was necessary.”

“I wish I could see it,” JJ sighed, upset that he wasn’t there. Colossus took him and the children to a safe place before the soldiers marched in. 

“I’m glad you managed to get to a safe place with Colossus,” Y/N dishevelled his hair. 

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Kitty used the silence to ask her. 

“Tired,” she gave her the same answer as she had said to Logan. “Thanks for bringing JJ here. At least I know he’s well,” and she pressed a gentle kiss on top of the boy’s head. He slowly became the little brother she never had.

When Kitty took Jerome away, Logan was relieved to be alone with Y/N again. This time, he sat next to her on the bed. His hand found the back of her neck. He started to massage it. Y/N’s eyes closed. She almost purred. A moan escaped her mouth. Logan’s eyes widened at that sound, and he grinned. “That was a pretty sound. You should make more.” 

She glared at him. “Dirty mind.” 

When he stopped, he leaned closer. “Let me take you back to your room,” he whispered. He kept breathing in Y/N’s scent.

“Again, dirty mind,” she chuckled. 

Logan pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. “You are the one with a dirty mind. I didn’t mean it like that, princess.” 

Y/N watched as he got closer, wanting to kiss her again. She pressed an index finger to his lips, stopping him. “I need to do one more thing before we leave,” she said, staring into his eyes. She reached for one of his hands and brushed her fingers against his knuckles. “Scratch me with your claws.” 

Logan raised his brows, pushing away a little. “What?” 

“Please, do it,” she begged. “I need you to scratch me with them. You’ll see why.” 

“No,” he shook his head and pulled away from her. His eyes focused on the floor, frowning. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You will not hurt me, I promise you. I need to see something. Either you will scratch me with a claw, or I will find a knife and do it myself.” 

He growled like a wolf. When Logan clenched a fist, one of the claws slowly came out under his skin. He then turned his body to her. Y/N prepared her forearm. Before he could change his mind, Logan cut into her skin, making her bleed. A second later, the wound lit up like the colours of her forcefield and started closing in front of their eyes. 

“Shit,” she mumbled. “I didn’t know I could do that. That’s new.” 

“Damn,” Logan sighed. “That explains why we didn’t find any bullet wounds on your body. There was blood but no gashes. You can heal.” 

“I can heal,” she nodded. Y/N buried her face into her hands, sighing loudly. “Holy shit, I can heal. That might explain why I could remain alive all these years in the labs. I know it happened when they attacked us. I remember being shot. I remember the pain. When I looked a few seconds later, the wound wasn’t there. I just needed to be sure that it wasn’t a hallucination.” 

Logan grabbed one of her hands and pressed a soft kiss on top of it. It was a sweet, loving gesture. “Come on, princess. I’ll take you to your room.” 

“Aw, such a gentleman,” she patted his beard-covered cheek playfully. “I should get wounded more. You’ll treat me like a princess every second of my life,” she teased. 

“Very funny.”

They left the lowest level underground. Logan kept her close to him but didn’t touch her. They kept some distance between them in case someone decided to appear out of nowhere. He kept an eye on her in case she would show any sign of weakness. 

The atmosphere changed when they arrived at the main level. The students were walking around the hallways, chatting. None of them were holding books. It meant only one thing - it was already afternoon. 

One by one, they turned their attention to Logan and Y/N. When they found their teachers walking down the hallway, they stopped talking. The attention was now on them. Fingers were being pointed at them, as well as whispers spreading around. 

“That’s her,” someone said. 

“She saved the school.” 

“They protected us.” 

“She teaches English.” 

“I want to be as cool as them.” 

“Miss Y/L/N can make forcefields.”

All Y/N could hear in her mind was freak, weirdo, murderer. You killed her! You killed my baby!

Y/N closed her eyes and stopped walking. The attention was unpleasant. Logan noticed her face. His hand found Y/N’s lower back. It was a gentle gesture. He pressed his fingers lightly against her. Logan kept watching her face. He could see how her breath quickened. “You okay?” he asked. 

Y/N gave him one gentle nod. When she opened her eyes, they started to travel around the place. They captured every single child that was staring at her. Their looks were different. The thoughts that were screaming inside her mind eased. They were barely whispers. Before, she’d feel like the biggest weirdo on the entire planet. Now, the feeling was different. She didn’t want to run away from it. Y/N was aware that she and Logan protected the whole school. 

Y/N continued to walk through the crowd of students. She headed to the stairs with Logan close behind. No one asked a thing. No one wanted to talk to her. Y/N appreciated it all. 

“The kids look up to ya,” Logan said when they climbed all the stairs to the third floor. They stopped in front of Y/N’s room. “They always do when someone becomes a hero,” he made a face. 

“I’m no hero,” she shrugged. It made her feel uncomfortable. “I only did what was necessary.” 

Logan sighed. “You sure you’ll be fine?” 

She leaned against the closed door and smiled. “Yes, I will. Thank you, my knight in shining armour. I shall give you flowers for your bravery,” she bowed to him a little, laughing. 

“Text me if you need me, and I’ll come to you, princess,” he winked at her.

Y/N walked into her room. She closed the door, sighing. Logan left without a kiss. Why was she so upset about it? Rolling her eyes, Y/N walked to the bathroom. She needed to shower the last three unconscious days and a fight where she came face to face with her mother.

. . .

It was ten in the evening. The whole school was silent. The students were in their rooms, already asleep. During school days, they all had to be in their dorms before nine. 

Y/N was inside her room the whole time. After a long hot shower, she changed into fresh clothes. She then fell asleep on her bed for a few hours. Her body was tired. It called for a nap. Now, she was sitting on the bed, finishing a French braid. Y/N could smell the coconut shampoo on her body. Her mind kept wandering to Logan, her mother and back. 

How is it that when something nice was happening, a shit from the past had to appear at the exact moment? Shaking her head, she tied the end of the braid with a rubber band. 

There was a knock on the door. Before Y/N could open her mouth, the door slowly opened. Logan walked in, frowning. When he noticed her sitting on the bed, his face softened.

“What’s with the face?” she asked, grinning. 

He closed the door behind him and approached the bed. “I was worried, okay?” 

Y/N kneeled on the bed, laughing. “Aw, that is so sweet. The big bad Wolverine was worried about me.” Her eyes watched as he took a seat next to her. “I’m sorry for giving you wrinkles. I fell asleep after the shower.” 

Logan huffed, nodding. And then, in a mere second, Logan grabbed her into his arms. One held her by the waist while the other was behind her neck. Their lips connected in a sloppy, passionate kiss. At this point, Y/N wasn’t even surprised by his sudden action. All she could do was think about him - his lips, his touch. Their tongues pressed together, mouths sliding hungrily. They got lost in their passion. 

“I was worried about you,” said Logan when their lips disconnected. “I was going crazy watching you unconscious on that damn bed,” he admitted. “I’d be really pissed if something happened to you.”

Her finger gently stroked the bridge of his nose. “When I saw you with that collar, powerless, I knew I had to do anything to protect you. You became a simple mortal human being. It wasn’t nice to see you all wounded and defeated. I was worried that…”

Logan’s brows raised. “What?” he asked softly. 

“We wouldn’t be able to start whatever it is between us,” she looked away. 

Logan sat on the bed and brought her onto his lap. His hands held her by the hips, gripping them tightly. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest. “Oh, princess,” he sighed, staring into her eyes. They travelled to her lips. “Good thing we survived. We can now continue where we left off.”

Y/N felt the thrill rushing through her body. However, her face heated up. Suddenly, she was shy. Logan saw it all. One of his hands rested on her cheeks. “Don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart,” he chuckled. 

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. “Well, the last time I had something with a guy was over five years ago,” she made a face. 

“We don’t have to…”

“But I want to,” she stopped him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I want to, Logan. I-” Her eyes scanned his green ones. There was something on her lips she wanted to say. It was too soon to confess. Y/N knew what she felt for him, but she didn’t allow herself to say it out loud. After she swallowed the truthful words, she said, “I want you.” 

The air changed in the room. With a gentle touch, Logan traced the curves of her body, feeling the tremble of excitement beneath his fingertips. As their lips met in a tender kiss, they both felt the rush of passion surge through them, melting away any lingering doubts or inhibitions. 

The first pieces of clothing were gone in mere seconds. Logan took off Y/N’s T-shirt, showing her exposed chest to his eyes. He licked his lips as his eyes observed her beautiful breasts. When Y/N took off Logan’s white tank top, her nails lightly scratched his chest, enjoying the feeling of him under her fingertips. Slowly, they undressed each other, savouring the unveiling of skin, each moment building the intensity of their connection.

Y/N expected that, at some point, Logan would become rougher and impatient. She was surprised when he took his time and didn’t rush things. His touches were gentle and loving as if she were a fragile doll that would break under his touch. 

“You smell so good, princess,” he growled. His mouth wrapped around her hardened nipple and sucked on it. He was rewarded with a moan. He sucked on it, circled it with a tongue. When he let it with a pop, Logan looked at her, grinning. “Next time, I will fuck ya like the naughty girl I know you are.” 

“Logan,” she whispered his name. 

He continued to lavish attention on her breasts. His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, alternating between bites and licks that sent shivers down her spine. He loved how she responded to his attention – it only fueled his passion further. 

The moans kept escaping Y/N’s lips after every touch, every stroke and lick. The sound of her moans and gasps filled the air, making Logan’s dick throb painfully.

He grabbed her by the waist and laid her down on the bed. He positioned himself between her legs. “What a beautiful view,” he commented, eyeing her naked upper body. 

Her hands reached for the big belt he wore. Y/N unfastened it, unbuttoned the jeans and pulled down the zipper. She realised he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Y/N’s brows raised up, and she grinned at him. She was met with his semi-hard length begging to be taken out of the jeans.“You like going commando?” 

“I was in a hurry,” he said, grinning. 

Y/N took him out, stroking him slowly from tip to base. She felt him twitch under her touch. He had a nice dick - perfect length, veiny, and he trimmed his pubic hair around his penis and balls.  She heard him moan and curse under his nose. 

“Fuck, baby girl,” his eyes rolled into the back of his head when she squeezed him harder. He stopped her movements.  Logan took her hand off his throbbing member. He brought the hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I want to be inside of you.” 

Logan took off his jeans while his eyes remained on Y/N’s movements. He followed her hands - how they reached for the hem of her shorts. She took off the fabric with panties, and she exposed her pussy for his eyes to see. “Fuck,” he growled. 

Once they were both naked, Logan positioned himself at the entrance of her wet pussy, looking down at her face with a mix of determination and desire burning in his eyes. He ran his thumb along her clit, making her squirm. 

One last kiss before he positioned himself at her entrance and slowly pushed in. He watched Y/N’s reaction carefully, seeing the way her face contorted into a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. “Shit,” he cursed. “So tight.” 

He started to move slowly, allowing their bodies to become one. Logan didn’t want to hurt her. His eyes were locked with hers with every move he made. He wanted to take his time, to savour every moment of being inside her, feeling her surround him completely.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Faster, Logan. Please.” 

Hearing her pleas, Logan's feral instincts kicked in, and he responded by increasing the pace of his thrusts, driving into her tight pussy with forceful strokes. He watched her breasts bounce with every snap of his hips. “You are so fucking pretty like this,” he praised her. 

Another loud moan escaped Y/N’s lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pressed him closer to her body, pressing her lips against his in a feverish kiss. It was sloppy and dirty, all tongue and teeth. One of his hands sneaked between their bodies. His thumb found her clit, and he started to toy with it. 

Her walls clenched around his length. “Ah, fuck!” she gasped. “I’m so close.” 

“Good, baby girl,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t hold up and come for me, pretty girl.” 

He heard her cry out and felt her body tense as she approached climax. Logan increased the tempo of his movements even further, driving himself into her. He watched as Y/N reached her peak. Her eyes closed, walled gripped his cock tightly as waves of pleasure ran through her body. 

Logan’s release followed a few seconds later. At the last moment, he pulled out and spilt his seed over her lower belly, grunting. “Ah, fuck, fuck,” he cursed. 

Logan’s chest heaved with each laboured breath. The scent of sex and sweat filled the air around them as they lay there, spent and satisfied. Y/N turned her head to look at him. She watched as he breathed heavily. A smile appeared on her lips. 

“Damn,” she whispered. 

He turned his head, catching her eyes. Logan grinned at her. “That’s it?” he teased. 

“I am speechless. Isn’t that enough?” Y/N winked at him. She rolled to her side, snuggling her naked body to his. Her fingers absentmindedly started to stroke his chest, brushing through some of the hairs. 

Logan managed to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. “How are you feeling?” 

Her eyes locked with his. “Happy,” she replied simply. 

“How about one more round?” he suggested.

Y/N smacked his chest playfully. “Insatiable man.” 

He grabbed her hand and led it down his body to his hard length. Y/N wrapped her fingers around his cock. “What can I say. I can’t get enough of you.” 

She giggled. “Cheezy. Fine, one more round.” 

“This time, you will ride me, pretty girl.” 

[patscorner]

For The Rest Of My Life

TW: fluff, and a teeny bit of angst if u squint

The red is what I got from the song, even though this is loosely referencing it.

______________________________

5 years. It's been 5 years since Chris begged his best friend, Nate, for your number. You all were in high school at the time, juniors, to be exact.

You remember it like it was yesterday, when Nate asked for your permission to give your number to Chris. You remember your heart beating out of your chest with anxiety and excitement, surprised that Chris even knew your name.

You said yes, of course. That night, Chris and you blossomed a love that nobody could break. Except yourselves.

The first time he kissed you, you were on your third date, sitting in the bed of your dad's truck, under the stars. Chris knew at that moment that he'd love you for the rest of his life.

The first time he met your mom, he was so nervous, scared that she'd hate him. But that quickly faded, as you were an exact replica of her, both personality wise and looks wise. He loved her so much as they both instantly clicked. Sometimes, you questioned if he was only with you to get to her cooking, a real staple in their relationship.

That question died down as he made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. He took you on small dates and he treated better than anyone else ever could.

Even for your first time having sex together, he made it more special than you could've ever imagined. He was slow and sweet, making sure you were comfortable with everything he was doing.

You were kids, of course, so neither of you knew how to communicate rationally when you're upset. If Chris was angry, you'd smile at him, and he hated it, but he stayed. If you were upset, Chris would try to help, but in the end, he'd be frustrated and leave you alone with your thoughts, and you hated it, but you stayed.

You both matured together. You both grew up together. You both had your glow up together. Through the ups and downs, you stuck together. Every weekend, you go to his house, or he'd go to yours, and those were the core memories that stuck with you.

Eventually, you graduated high school together, and you followed Chris and his brothers to LA. The triplets job in social media was both good and bad.

The good part was, that you'd been in videos since you were in high school, so everyone knew you as Y/N Sturniolo, which was incorrect, but you kinda liked the way the last name looked on you.

When you and Chris announced you were dating, the internet almost exploded. Some fans were confused, some were upset, but most were supportive.

The hate got to you at times, but Chris was always right there to help you. He was there to reassure you, and he was there to defend you against the people who hate from behind a screen.

5 years. You and Chris had been dating for 5 years. 5 years, building up to this moment.

You weren't in a public restaurant because Chris knew how much you hated unwanted and unnecessary public attention. He'd always hold you close to him when he was swarmed by teenage girls during your mall outings, making sure you were okay.

Chris suggested that you all go to Boston and invite both families to hang out, having a little get together.

You thought it was strange, but you complied. All 4 of you, as well as Madi and Laura, packed your bags and got on the flight to Boston.

You'd been there for about a week, and Chris had planned a bunch of stuff out. He paid for you and your mom to get your nails done, and he gave you money to go shopping at the mall. You couldn't be more grateful.

Little did you know. Today was the day.

____

"Good morning, ma." Chris's voice rang throughout the quiet room. The sun glistened through the curtain, painting the room a golden yellow. You rolled over and made eye contact with blue eyes.

As you take in your surroundings, you feel Chris's big hands on your back, rubbing small circles comfortingly.

You hummed in response. "Come on, you gotta get up. I planned some stuff for us to do today." His deep voice broke at the end of his sentence, earning a smile from you.

"What time is it?" You asked, your morning voice finally breaking free from your mouth.

Chris smiled. "7:30pm." You and Chris always take midday naps, but this one was more of an evening nap.

You groaned and playfully slapped Chris's chest lightly. "What if we just lay here?" You closed your eyes tightly.

Chris chuckled lightly. "What if I tell you I made food?" You opened one eye, scanning Chris's face for an explanation.

"I'd call bullshit. The house is still standing." You joke.

Chris laughs lightly. "Okay, fuck you kid. Get up before it gets cold." He kisses your temple before pulling the covers off himself and standing up to put a shirt on. "Get dressed. Casual clothing, we're going out." He smiled before walking out of the room.

You sigh as you follow suit, putting a black croptop on, with a white jacket. You put a pair of blue jeans on and your white Air Forces that Chris got you to match his.

You do your hair, brush your teeth, do your makeup, and put your earrings on before walking downstairs. Your jaw drops as you see your beautiful boyfriend sitting at the island, which is covered with all of your favorite foods.

"Wha- what's all this?" You ask as you move towards Chris slowly. He smiles as he stands up and approaches you. You meet in the middle, and he wraps his hands around your waist. You rest your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him.

"Surprise, baby." He said, pulling you in to give you a sweet, passionate kiss.

You smile into the kiss. "What's this all for?" You ask, turning your head to admire the spread of food in front of you. Another thing Chris knew about you was that you were a foodie. No matter what you were doing, food would make it a hundred times better.

He shrugged, his face turning a light pink color. "I just felt like it." Is all he said.

You tilted your head in confusion but nodded nonetheless. "Thank you, baby. I love it." You smile.

"I knew you would." He leaned in to kiss your cheek. "Now, dig in. We gotta be there in an hour." He let go of your waist and guided you to the island.

"Be where?" You asked, sitting down at the island.

He shook his head and grinned. "You'll see."

______

"Chris, come on! Can I take this off now?" You said, pouting, tugging on the blindfold.

He laughed but kept his eyes on the road. He carrassed your thigh gently. "No, ma, but we're almost there."

You groan, putting your head back. "I've been in the dark so long." You whine loudly.

Chris laughs. "I know, I know, but I promise it's worth the wait."

You roll your eyes, even though he can't see them. "It better be." You grumble.

You feel the car be put in park. "See, we're here. Was that so hard, sweetheart?"

You cross your arms. "Yes." You lie, smiling.

Chris shakes his head. "Whatever. Let me get the door for you." You hear Chris open and close the door, leaving in a brief silence before you feel your door open.

You feel for Chris's arms, which immediately help you out of the car. He pulls you into a hug. "I love you, baby." He whispers, his voice quiet and shaky.

You cock your head in confusion. "I love you, too. Everything okay?"

You feel Chris lift the blindfold off your head, your eyes immediately shutting at the sudden brightness. "Damn, Chris." You mutter, rubbing your eyes.

He laughs lightly.

When your eyes adjust to the brightness, you see that you're in a park.

But it wasn't any park. It was the park where you and Chris both said your first 'I love yous'. The park that was above the beach, a place where you could park your car and watch the sunset.

This place held such a sensitive place in your heart, and it immediately tugged in your chest as you looked at Chris, who had tears in his eyes.

"Baby, what're we doing here?" You wipe his tears, and he laughs softly, wiping them as well. "I told myself I wasn't gonna cry yet."

You shake your head. "It's okay. What're you planning?"

He shook his head, grabbing your hand and walking you through the park. You approach a blanket with words written on it. You can't make out the word before Chris pulls you into him, as you both stand up in front of the sunset.

He wrapped his arms around your waist as your back pressed against his chest. He swayed you both back and forth as you both just relished each other's company for a while.

Eventually, he spoke. "Come on." He grabbed your hand, walking you to the blanket, where you can see the letter clearly now. It spelled out 'will you marry me?" In your favorite flower petals, because he knew you didn't like red. (Unless it's red, then replace with fav color)

You freeze and look at Chris, who is now kneeling in front of you with a ring.

You cover your mouth with your hands, tears threatening the fall.

Chris wiped his tears before his spoke, clearing his throat. "Y/n Y/l/n, I love you so much. I never knew I could ever feel this way about someone. I never knew I could be so happy." He choked, wiping his tears once more. "Fuck. Okay, okay. You're my strength and my weakness. You help me battle my demons, and so far, we're undefeated. After all these years, I still have a crush on you, and it's never faded."

He swallowed, not bothering to wipe his tears anymore. You're still standing in front of him in shock, listening to his proposal.

"I love you so much, and if you let me, I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life. And if you let me, we can start a family. And if you let me, I can call you my wife. So, Y/n Y/l/n... will you marry me?"

You stare at Chris for a moment longer before kneeling in his level and engulfing him in a hug. You both are an emotional mess, using each other for comfort.

You pull away and wipe your tears. Chris smiles. "Is that a yes?"

You nod, laughing tearfully. "Yes, yes, of course." You pull him into an emotional kiss before pulling away.

He attempted to slide the ring on your finger, but he was shaking. "Oh baby, you're shaking." You sniffle.

He smiles shyly, finally getting the ring on. "I know, I was nervous as fuck." You pull him into another hug as he stood up.

"I love you so much, Christopher." You say into the crook of his neck. He smiled. "I love you more. You have no idea."

You feel tears prick your eyes again, never feeling more loved. Chris looked at your glassy eyes, wiping the tears. "Don't cry again, or I'm gonna cry again." He says, his voice shaking.

You laugh. "I can't help it! I'm gonna get married!" You sigh.

"Well, get it the fuck together! I told Matt and Nick I wouldn't cry." He exclaimed jokingly.

You laugh, wiping his tears. "They didn't believe you, did they?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "Give me that ring back." You laugh as he grabbed your hand and pulled you back to the car.

"Where are we going?" You ask, buckling up.

"They're waiting for us at the restaurant." He said.

"What?"

He looked at you. "I love you so much, ma. I can't wait to be your husband." He smiled. Your face flushed as you leaned in to give him a deep, passionate kiss.

He smiled into the kiss. "If I get one of those every time I say that, don't expect any other words to come out of my mouth from now on."

You laugh as he puts the car in drive. After about 15 minutes, you arrive at the restaurant.

From the car, you can see yours and Chris's whole family through the window. You look at Chris. "How -"

He put his hand up. "Magician never reveals his secrets." You smile, getting out of the car, holding hands with Chris as you both walk into the building.

You walk in and the building went silent. All the eyes looked at you, but they didn't make you nervous, because you knew all of the familiar, comforting eyes look at you.

Chris clears his throat. You look at him before looking back at everyone. You smile and hold up your hand with the ring on it.

"I'm getting married!" You say, earning cheers and claps from the audience. Matt and Nick immediately walk up to Chris and give him a giant hug and say congratulations.

Matt pulled you into a comforting hug. "Did he cry?" He asked as he pulled away.

You smile. "Like a baby." You laugh, earning a laugh from Matt and Nick. Chris stared at you. "Snitch." He muttered.

Nick embraced you into a hug. "Congratulations. I'm surprised he managed to keep you after all these years." Nick shook his head. You laughed.

"Me too. But I wouldn't trade it for the world."

Nick cringed. "Corny." He smiled, shaking his head.

You smile, before saying goodbye and walking over to Chris, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you, baby." You whisper in his ear, his arm snaking around your waist.

He smiled back at you, tears pricking his eyes again. "I love you, too."

You were going to get married. Married to your best friend and soul mate. And you couldn't be happier.

______________________________

[captainsophiestark]

The 60s

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Day 9 Prompt: "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Summary: Klaus wiped the memory of the love of his life after hundreds of years together to try to protect them from Mikael. Now, however, his ex has their memories back is going to find their boyfriend. Even if he is in someone else's body.

Word Count: 2,215

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I was going to kill Klaus Mikaelson.

Unlike the other thousand people who'd probably had that thought in the last week alone, however, mine was actually justified. For hundreds of years, Nik and I had been together, happy, and in love. We'd wandered the world together, side by side, having each other's backs through thick and thin. Out of everyone in the entire world, I was the only one he'd always trusted, completely, without a doubt in mind.

And then Mikael had shown up one time too many.

Nik and I had faced him a few times, and he had firmly held the spot of 'my least favorite Original' for literal centuries. We'd always come out shaken, but fine, until about a hundred and fifty years ago. That time, he'd gotten Nik cornered, so I'd jumped in to save him. Mikael had almost killed me instead.

We'd managed to both make it out alive, thankfully, but Nik had been foaming at the mouth with nerves and fear. I'd tried to calm him down, but it hadn't worked. He'd gotten too scared, so for the first time in our entire relationship, he broke my trust. He compelled me to forget him, and to go somewhere else, far away, where I'd never be put in danger by him and his family again.

It had worked, unfortunately for me. Until recently, when something had happened to break the compulsion and bring my memories back. At first, I'd been terrified that it meant Nik had died. But, after a little investigating and compelling of my own, I realized he'd been body-hopping with the help of witches. Something about it must've shaken his compulsion loose, and allowed me to remember.

It hadn't taken me long to track him down to Mystic Falls, Virginia. I couldn't help being a little proud of myself for finding him so quickly; it helped that I knew him well. I'd arrived in Virginia last night, and managed to track down Nik's exact location and hiding place just as quickly. He'd apparently taken over the body of a history teacher at the local high school. Who would I have been to miss that opportunity?

With a little more compulsion, I'd convinced the front office staff to let me into the teacher's history class. I found a seat to one side of the classroom, then settled in to wait for Nik to show up. I almost blew my cover when, a moment later, the spitting image of Katherine Pierce walked through the door.

I knew he'd come to town for the doppelgänger, but it was still surprising to see someone who looked just like Katherine. Apparently, that lie we'd planted about the Curse of the Sun and the Moon had been working out pretty well. She sat on the other side of the room from me, flirting with another vampire and sitting with her witch friend. I sighed, already ready to leave the classroom, when Nik finally walked in.

The teacher, Alaric Saltzman, was tall, with brown hair, and dressed in something I could almost see Nik wearing normally. He strode through the open door with a "hello class" and went right to his desk like it was any other day. I snorted.

"What... are we learning today?" he mused, flipping through his history book. He hadn't looked up once; hadn't had a chance to see me yet.

"With the decade dance tonight we've been covering the sixties all week," a girl in the front chimed in. Nik looked up.

"Right. The sixties."

For the first time, he turned, and I thought his eyes might finally find me. Instead, they found the doppelgänger—Elena—like a heat-seeking missile.

Understandable, since we didn't think she existed. But still annoying.

He glanced from her to the open classroom door, then turned to the board. I huffed a sigh and rolled my eyes. What was he gonna do, just grab her and run? Much too obvious for his style, and we both knew it.

"The uh... the sixties," he started, mentioning the decade for the third time now as he turned around to write the same words on the board. "...I wish there was something good I could say about the sixties."

I covered a snort with my elbow. I almost raised my hand to say something like "Maybe they would've been better if you'd still had me with you", but that was also too sloppy for my style. Too many students asking questions, seeing me, and too many enemies possibly getting hints about Nik.

"They actually kind of sucked," Nik continued. "Except for the Beatles, of course, they made it bearable."

His eyes strayed to Elena's witch friend, and my heart squeezed in my chest. Nik was recounting memories that didn't include me, when I should've appeared in almost all of them. The hurt was only semi-manageable because I wasn't looking at the love of my life's face while hearing this, too.

"Uh, what else was there? The Cuban Missile... thing. The uh... we walked on the moon, that was, uh... Watergate."

"Watergate was the seventies, Ric," Elena chimed in with a fond smile. "Uh, I mean, Mr. Saltzman."

"Right," Nik continued, a familiar edge to an unfamiliar smile. His eyes never strayed from Elena. "It all kind of... mushes together up here. Sixties, seventies. Thank you, Elena."

I watched him teach the rest of the class in a way that could only be described as 'playing with his food'. He said Elena's name another time or two, savoring it in a way I recognized as him relishing in victory. I was happy to see him happy, but the added side effect of him being so wrapped up in doppelgänger nonsense meant that he still hadn't noticed me.

I tried not to let it get to me. Especially since it had given me the best opening I could've asked for to scare the daylights out of Nik and get just a little bit of payback.

Once the bell rang, I stood and hovered at the edge of the classroom. Nik dismissed everyone and said goodbye to the class, saying a special, specific goodbye to Elena and watching her leave. It wouldn't have been terribly obvious to anyone with no reason to suspect 'Alaric' was not who he said he was, but it was ridiculous to me.

Nik moved to the door to look out into the hallway as the classroom emptied of every single student except for me. He watched Elena go, his back to what he thought was an empty classroom, giving me exactly the opening I wanted. I crossed the room quickly but quietly, using all of my vampire skills to keep him from noticing me until I was right next to him, almost shoulder to shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I said, right into Nik's ear. He'd jumped and spun around at the first word, but now stood frozen, his mouth open in shock as he stared at me. I grinned. "You know, whatever you were planning to do to the doppelgänger. At school. In a human body. While she's surrounded by supernaturals. That's just a bad idea."

"Y/N..." he breathed, voice barely above a whisper. Then, he surged forward, wrapping me tight in his arms and spinning me around in a hug. He moved backwards into the classroom, and I slammed the door with my heel just to avoid any prying eyes.

Nik finally pulled back, eyes wide and a vague smile on his face, like he was happy but didn't actually believe this was real. I smiled back at him, even though he didn't quite look like my Nik, and gave his hands a reassuring squeeze.

"How... how is this possible?" he asked, his voice still quiet, like any loud noise might shatter the moment. "How are you here?"

"I still don't totally know. But I think, when you moved into this... teacher body... it was enough for your compulsion on me to break."

Nik's face fell immediately, as it should have. I frowned, the immediate happiness of finding Nik having worn off.

"I can't believe you did that to me, Nik," I said, taking a step back from him. "It was supposed to be the two of us, through everything. Against everything. No matter what. How could you betray that?"

He gave a frown of pain, taking a half step towards me before thinking better of it.

"You don't understand. My... Mikael... almost killed you. If I'd been the cause of your death-"

"Okay, first of all, you would never be the cause of my death. You know how I know? Because you would never kill me." I stared at Nik long and hard, and although he looked away from my gaze quickly, I never did. "Second, the only person who would've been the cause of my death was Mikael. You are not responsible for a bad person trying to kill me."

"Unless that bad person is trying to kill you to get to me." He said it quietly but firmly, looking up at me with a rueful smile from lowered lashes, like he'd just said some checkmate truth we'd both been avoiding. I put a hand on my hip and glared.

"Actually Nik, no, it's still not your fault. It's the bad person's fault. That's it. And before you start telling me it's your fault for dragging me into it or whatever, I could've left. I didn't want to, and I still don't want to. I've seen every level of crazy your life has to offer, and I'm signing up for all of it.

"And Nik, before you try to tell me how much you'd miss me if you lost me, you did lose me! By letting fear drive you to compel me out of your life. And I also lost you. I guess I've been generally content for the past hundred and fifty years, but I've never been totally satisfied. Because something is missing. I've known total and complete happiness, and it's whenever I'm with you. This immortal life isn't worth living without you, Nik. Don't try to tell me it is."

He stared at me for a few long moments, then pulled me to him again. Unlike the first hug, this time our feet stayed planted firmly on the ground, wrapped tight in the strong hold of each other's embrace. I sighed as Nik rested his head against mine, moving his mouth right next to my ear.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have done that to you. I was just... terrified at the thought of losing you."

"I know. But Nik, we're nothing if we're not together. I need you to promise me you won't do that again. The two of us, side by side, for eternity. That's it, alright?"

He pulled away, hands holding my arms tight as he stared me straight in the eye.

"I give you my word."

Slowly, a smile spread across my face, a new warmth growing in my chest. Not once, in hundreds of years, had Nik ever broken his word to me. We were going to be okay.

He grinned back at me once he noticed my smile, then leaned in to kiss me. I stopped him, jerking back a bit, and he gave me a concerned look.

"I love you, and I am so happy to see you again, but I'm not kissing you until you're back in your own body. I have no interest in kissing this rando you've possessed."

Nik grinned, and although it wasn't his body or his smile, I swear it looked exactly like it was supposed to.

"Fair enough. I don't think I want you kissing this 'rando' either. What do you say we get out of here, and do what needs to be done so I can get back into my body, break my curse, and kiss you properly?"

"...Not in that order, right?"

"No, not in that order."

"Then deal."

Nik smiled and took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as we headed towards the door together. I had no idea what the next part of his plan was, but once I was caught up to speed, I knew we'd be putting it into action shoulder to shoulder again, and all would be right with the world.

"You know, you're a shit teacher," I mused as we headed off into the high school together. Nik shot me a look as he kept leading me towards whatever destination he had in mind.

"Do you remember much interesting information to teach children about the sixties?"

I shrugged. "No. But I could probably fake it better than you. Watergate."

"I was in Australia, Watergate was a low priority."

"I was in Greenland, so... checkmate."

He just shook his head, a smile finding its way onto his face all the same. I was the only one in the world Nik trusted endlessly, the only one who could find him in a matter of days no matter where he was in the world, and the only one who could get away with giving him shit with absolutely no repercussions. And now that I had him and my memories back, I was never letting him go.

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

TVD/TO Masterlist: @elenavampire21

[atyd1960]

The more I think about it the more I'm confused about Snape's so called "redemption arc".

We don't know much about his years at Hogwarts outside of the time James hanged him from his underwear and he called Lily a Mudblood, but we know that:

1. He had a disdain for Muggles ever since he was born or at least ever since he was 10 y/o bc that's when he meets Lily and Petunia and treats the latter like garbage.

2. He was friends with Mulciber and Avery- known death eaters, especially Mulciber who we know was particularly close with Baldy due to the time he came to Hogsmede with him for his job interview with dummydore.

From that we can assume that he was a witness and a participant in A Lot of hate crimes against Muggle Borns ever since he was a minor. One of which was the time Mary was the victim.

3. We know HE invented the spell James used to hang him from his panties, which must mean that he used it against others, probably muggle borns, and his DE friends must've used it as well.

4. We know he invented the spell Sectumsempra to use against his enemies?? (Sorry it's been a while since I read the books I don't remember the exact quote.) and his enemies are almost certainly the Marauders. Also maybe his dad but that's a discussion for another day.

5. We know he was one of Baldy's dearest death eaters, even tho he was a Half-Blood with no status and no connections, which means he definitely did a lot of horrific things to Muggles and Muggle borns and the members of the Order of Phoenix.

6. We know he heard Trelawney's prophesy after eavesdropping in a bar, and immediately ran to Baldy with it. He knew that by telling Baldy about the prophecy an innocent baby will be killed, and he didn't give a shit. I cannot stress enough how much that information in vital for his character. Taking a baby's life so that Baldy might give him a sit closer to him by the table. And nothing would've happened to him if he shut his mouth and didn't go to Baldy. He didn't have his life or even his status\loyalty on the line. He just sacrificed this anonymous innocent baby for kicks and giggles.

7. The only point in which he cared about his actions was when Lily's life was on the line. This wanker really didn't care that he just gave Baldy (a man who made it his life' mission to kill Lily and the likes of her) a reason to kill Lily's son and husband, who were practically her only source of joy while she fought against his people in the war. He just wanted the girl he slurred and stalked and mistreated in high-school to live with all her friends and family dead. And thought he was doing something good. I don't even know how to begin to describe how fucked up that is.

8. He went to Dummydore and asked him to save her. After he got her, her husband and her kid to be under an even worse constant death threat than they were before because of Lily's blood status and their participant in the order. And after he spent the last 3-4 years killing Lily’s friends and the people who share her blood status.

9. That was also the point in which he offered himself to be a double spy right?? Again real heroic of him to risk his life after all the shit he did because he was in love with a girl whose life he ruined. He never cared about all the shit he did and all the people he murdered and he never actually wanted to help innocent people or do good by the world or even by Lily.

10. After Baldy died for the first time and the first war ended, Harry had nobody left, and Dummydore put him with Petunia and Vernon. Snape knew better than anyone else what the Dursleys will do to Harry. He knew everything, and he didn't do shit. Not only did he not do shit, but he also made things worse for Harry by bullying and harassing him since the moment he stepped foot in the castle.

11. Extending on the last point- Snape bullied, harassed, abused, mistreated and discriminated against students at Hogwarts ever since he started teaching there, I'm not gonna start elaborating on all the times he did those things because that would take a different essay of similar length.

12. Yeah I don't really know what to add here? That's pretty much it I think.

So to conclude: am I really expected to forgive him because he loved Lily and had a hard time with James when they were 16 and he spied for Dummydore for a bit?? Being a loser in middle school and then becoming a double spy doesn’t make up for… anything. Especially since he never stopped being a terrible person.

[jazminrhode1]

Obsessed with your writing and the stories tha tyou write :D Pleaase please please write something about Nick. Absoljtely anything, idec! If I wasn't a straight female I would marry him lol <3

Will You Marry Me? Nick Sturniolo x Reader One Shot

Summary: Nick marries you.

Word Count: 638 words

You and Nick had known each other for as far back as you can remember. He was your best friend, your earliest love, and your first real heartbreak.

When you were in pre-k, Nick would bring your flowers he ripped from bushes on the walk to school. In middle school, he would propose to you with half-eaten ring pops. When you got to high school, people thought you were dating but, you both knew what you were. He was your favorite person in the entire world.

You grew up together and as you grew older, you were there for each other through it all. He was your person. He was the one who saw you at your worst and loved you even more. You were his best friend, his sounding boarding, his soul mate. He swore he was going to marry you one day.

Since you can remember, you had dreamed of the perfect wedding to the perfect guy. For a long time, you though that guy was Nick. You always said he was going to be the one to marry you but, after he came out that dream died.

Over the years county lines and state borders kept you apart from one another but, your love for eachother never changed. He would always call on your birthday and you would catch up when you were both back home. It was always as if not a single day had passed. You always picked up right back where you left off.

The summer that you introduced him to your college boyfriend, he was the first to say, “this is the guy you’re going to marry”. He was the first guy that Nick ever approved of. He was the first guy that Nick thought was worthy of your heart. 

It took a couple of years for that college boyfriend to drop down on one knee but, when he did Nick was the first person that you called. You were elated, he was so happy for you but, it was all a little bittersweet. You still clung to the hope that Nick was going to be the one you were going to marry.

In the lead up to the wedding you wanted to find the perfect role for Nick to play. You didn’t think he’d want to be a groomsman, or a flower girl or one of your bridesmaids. He was, arguably, the most important person in your life aside from your fiance and you wanted to show him just how much he meant to you.

A month before the wedding you met him for a coffee at the park you used to play at as kids. As you both sat on a bench, you rested your head on his shoulder watching the ducks swim around the lake on the north lawn. 

“I’m so happy that you found your happily ever after, y/n,” he said. “I know that you’re not my fiance and you’re not about to be my wife but, I do believe that you and I are soul mates. I hope you know how much I love you."

He had always shown you unconditional love and met you at every junction in your life with open arms. He was the reason that you even believed in true love.

“I think we just found the officiant for our wedding,” you said. His eyes met yours as his brows furrowed in curiosity. “I have wanted to ask you this for a long time,” you smiled, “Nicolas Sturniolo, will you marry me? Any my fiance... of course."

He knew what you meant. And, maybe he was not going to marry you in the way that you had both intended as bright-eyed kids in the school yard but, he was going to marry you in the exact way that he was meant to.

[agaypanic]

another Benny x human reader idea i have is that they are in the mist of a supernatural showdown/battle and it goes so horribly wrong that the reader nearly dies but luckily because of Benny being so protective of her he gets brave and uses his magic to save her life and from the fear of losing her

Prom Night (Benny Weir X Reader)

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Summary: When Jesse turns up at the prom, you and your friends have to stop him from trying to get Sarah in his clutches. In an attempt to get her to join him and his wannabe cult, he tries forcing her to turn into a full vampire by biting Ethan. But Ethan’s not the only one who gets a run in with death.

A/N: i don’t remember the exact plot of the S1 finale episode and i dont feel like looking it up or watching for reference. also fuck canon, the gang + reader are in junior/senior year bc when i went to school, prom (ik it’s not specifically prom in the episode but im making it prom) was only for upperclassmen and i still think it’s wild that the boys are 14-15 + freshmen/sophomores while the girls are 17-18 + juniors/seniors

***

You had been dreaming of this day since you were a little girl, as cliche as that sounded. The fancy dress, the cutest date, the perfect night. You had the dress; you looked with Sarah and Erica for weeks and even found shoes that matched perfectly. You had the date, your boyfriend Benny gave you the cheesiest and best promposal using magic and the help of your friends. Now, you were waiting to have the best night of your teenage years.

It started with Benny picking you up. Despite dating you for a few years, he was still stumbling over his words at the sight of you when you opened the door. 

“Wow, you’re-” Benny cut off his high-pitched voice by clearing his throat, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. “God, you look beautiful, Y/n.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Bens.” You grinned, letting him into the house. You gave him a kiss, and your mom startled you by snapping a picture with her camera.

“Okay, lovebirds, pose for me.” The two of you complied, arms wrapped around each other and smiles wide as your mom blinded you with the camera’s flash. After a few hundred pictures, she finally let you leave the house. 

You were surprised to step out onto your front porch and find a limo parked in front of your house. Benny held out his arm for you to take, and he opened the car door for you to slide in first.

“Benny, how did you afford this?” You asked, looking at the beautiful interior as the limo drove off. 

“Me and the guys chipped in. And I may have used my devilish charm to get a discount.” You and Benny both knew what he meant by ‘charm,’ especially by him wiggling his eyebrows. “We’re gonna go to Ethan’s to get him and Sarah, and then we’ll pick up Erica and Rory at their houses.”

“Oh my gosh, I can’t wait to see Sarah and Erica’s dresses. They’re so perfect.”

“Yeah, I bet they are.” Benny kissed the side of your head. “I wanted to pick you up first, though, so we could have some alone time. Everything’s been so crazy lately.”

You smiled, grabbing Benny’s arm to put over your shoulders so you could tuck yourself into his side. The two of you talked about little things that you weren’t able to tell each other due to monster fights or big homework assignments taking priority. As the limo became filled with your friends, the conversation split into multiple topics until you finally reached the school.

“You look good in blue.” You told your boyfriend, eyeing his outfit in the disco lights. “I was a bit scared that you would look kinda ridiculous in this suit, but you honestly look pretty hot.”

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t look at least a little ridiculous.” Benny laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. “But thank you, baby. Wanna dance?”

“I’d love to.” You slipped your hand into his outreached one, and he dragged you to the center of the gym as a slow song came on.

The night you dreamed of was going perfectly. You danced with your boyfriend practically all night, although you danced with all your friends to the more upbeat songs. Benny couldn’t stop telling you how pretty you were, keeping at least one hand on you the whole evening.

“I’m getting kind of hungry!” You had to almost shout in Benny’s ear for him to hear you, being drowned out by the crowd of students and blaring music. “Should we get out of here?”

“Whatever you want, babe!” Benny responded, guiding you through the dancing crowd to the gym wall. 

“You go get the limo, I’ll round everyone up and meet you outside.” Benny nodded and gave you a parting kiss before exiting the gym, leaving you to find your friends. The task was pretty easy: you found Ethan and Sarah dancing in the corner of the dance floor, Rory trying to flirt with girls and absolutely tearing up the snack table, and Erica giving glares to anyone who got too close to her or asked her to dance with them.

You all left the gym together and headed for the front entrance, where Benny was probably waiting with the limousine. The hallways were dark, which was a bit strange, but none of you questioned it.

“Any ideas on where to go?” You asked, the front entrance in sight. “I just know I’m starving.”

“Oh! There’s this new place that opened up on the other side of town! Totally fancy.” Rory said.

“Are we sure we can afford fancy food?” Ethan asked. “We could get some fast food.” You laughed.

“Oh yeah. Let’s take the limo through a drive-through, I’d love to see that.”

“Leaving so soon?” A voice echoed down a hallway to your left. Everyone turned and tried looking down the dark hall to see a mysterious figure. The person walked towards you slowly, stopping when they were visible to you.

Jesse Black.

“Thought you’d save me a dance, Sarah.” He approached the girl, giving her a faux pout. You and Ethan moved to stand in front of her, staring Jesse down.

“Guys, are you ready?” Benny came through the front entrance in a hurry. “The limo’s waiting. Why are you- Oh.” He halted next to you when he saw Jesse, who smirked at him. Immediately, Benny put a hand on your elbow to gently tug you behind him, so he stood shoulder to shoulder with Ethan, shielding you and Sarah from Jesse’s view.

“Relax, Weird,” Jesse said, tilting his head. “I’m not here for your little girlfriend.” In a flash, Jesse pushed everyone away from Sarah with his telekinesis. You groaned in pain as you hit the floor, Benny landing next to you. “Heard you’re still a fledgling, Sarah. Honestly, I expected better.”

“Get away from her!” Ethan shouted, slowly standing up. Jesse ignored him, still looking at Sarah, slowly moving closer. With every step he took forward, she took a step back.

“I’ve been doing some thinking, baby. I want you back.”

“In your dreams, Jesse.”

“That’s cute, really.”

“I said get away from her!” Ethan launched himself at Jesse. But thanks to his vampire agility, Jesse grabbed the boy by the lapels of his suit jacket and threw him at the wall.

“Don’t hurt him!” Sarah shouted, ready to run to Ethan’s aide, but Jesse reached him first. Everyone froze as Jesse taunted Sarah, tearing Ethan’s sleeve near the cuff and putting his wrist close to his fangs.

“Look at yourself, Sarah. It’s like you have feelings for the little pipsqueak.” Jesse laughed as if the idea itself was a big joke. But Sarah didn’t respond. Jesse took her silence as confirmation. “Holy shit, you do.”

Erica and Rory ran at Jesse from opposite sides, hoping to catch him off guard. But Jesse unfortunately saw it coming, stepping back and pushing Rory into Erica, making them fall and slide away on the floor.

“You wanna be with him so bad?” Jesse asked Sarah, paying the rest of you barely any mind. “Let me help you with that.”

Ethan screamed in pain as Jesse sunk his fangs into his wrist. Ethan crumbled in the vampire’s hold until he was dropped onto the floor, writhing around as the venom started to spread. Sarah ran to the boy, trying to figure out how to help him. Jesse simply walked away.

“Hope you like him enough to spend all of eternity with him,” Jesse called out behind his shoulder. “If not, you’ll know where to find me.”

While Sarah whimpered frantic apologies to Ethan, Benny left your side to follow Jesse. Worried for your boyfriend’s safety and what he was about to do, you were hot on his tail.

“Get back here!” Benny shouted. You wondered how nobody had wandered out of the gym to see what all the commotion was. “I said get back here!” Benny shot a spark at the evil vampire, which was quickly dodged. In the blink of an eye, your boyfriend was held up against the wall in a chokehold, slowly struggling to breathe.

“Wanna be like your friend over there, Weir?” Jesse asked with an evil, toothy grin. He moved his hand to uncover the side of Benny’s neck, using his other hand to tilt his head to the side. 

It was a bit of a struggle with the heels and dress and all, but you launched yourself at Jesse, yanking his head away from your boyfriend’s neck before he could sink his teeth into him. Jesse let go of Benny to try and pull your limbs off of him, but you had an iron grip. 

Jesse backed himself into the row of lockers behind you, slamming your body into them. You yelped at the pain but did your best to hold onto him. Jesse didn’t appreciate your stubbornness, throwing his head back to headbutt you, which subsequently bashed your head against the metal behind you. It caught you off guard, the dizziness loosening your hold just enough for Jesse to push you off of him.

He turned around and picked you up, your wooziness worsening from getting up so fast, and threw you down the hall. You passed out from exhaustion and pain seconds after hitting the floor.

Jesse let out a low whistle and looked at Benny, who was sitting against the wall wheezing.

“She’s a little firecracker, isn’t she?” Jesse grinned, turning back to the exit. “Good luck with that.” Then he was gone.

Benny, too weak and lightheaded to stand, crawled over to you. He felt bad for passing Ethan to get to you, but Sarah and Rory seemed to be doing their best to help him. Benny soon reached your unconscious body, with Erica placing your head in her lap to keep it elevated.

“It’s bad, Benny.” She muttered to him, lifting a hand from under your head to show her fingers, which were lightly coated in blood. “She must’ve cut her head on the locker slats.”

“Shit.” Benny hissed, his own injuries forgotten as he focused on you. He didn’t have to be a doctor to know that head wounds were bad, probably even more since you were unconscious. “I don’t know what to do.” He said helplessly.

“Don’t you know a spell that can heal wounds or something?”

“Yeah, but not off the top of my head!”

“Well, remember!” Erica commanded. “I know you can remember, Benny. Do it.” Erica wished to be less harsh, but she knew she’d rather bully Benny into remembering a spell to heal you and apologize later than lose you.

Benny wracked his brain, trying to summon the spell to the front of his mind. But there seemed to be nothing but guilt. He should’ve known something bad would happen tonight, he should’ve prepared for it. He should’ve protected you from Jesse, but instead, you protected him. And now look at you, slowly losing a pulse.

“Benny,” Erica whispered, adjusting your limp body in her hold. “You can’t feel guilty for letting Y/n get hurt. You have to help her now. That’s what you owe her, not guilt.”

If Benny wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve joked about Erica going soft. Carefully, he took you from Erica’s grasp, putting your head in his hands. Benny hated to take a guess in such a situation, but he placed his hands on your head wound, which was wet and sticky, and started muttering an incantation that he hoped was a healing spell.

Benny closed his eyes to keep focus, repeating his words in desperation. Erica watched the faint glow coming from his hands seep into the cut. Slowly but surely, Benny felt the wound seal itself shut, the only evidence that you had it in the first place being the blood that slightly matted your hair.

“Oh, thank God.” Benny let out a breath of relief as you took a deep and sudden breath. He lifted your body to hold you close to his chest while you slowly gained consciousness. His cheek rested against the top of your head, trying to comfort both you and himself.

“What happened?” You asked weakly, trying to sit up.

“Don’t worry about it,” Benny answered quickly, gently stopping you from leaving your place against him. “It’s okay now; you’re okay now.” Erica gave you a weak smile and stood, walking away to give you some space. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” You asked, looking at Benny curiously.

“You’ve been looking forward to this night for, like, forever. And then it got ruined by all this.”

“You’re acting like it’s your fault, Bens.” You raised a hand to cup Benny’s cheek, and he immediately leaned into your touch.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Despite the recent events, you smiled up at him. “I wanted to have the perfect and most fun-filled night with the cutest guy I could ever love. And I got just that.”

“Your head was slammed into a locker, and you probably almost died.” You simply shrugged.

“Everyone has their own definition of fun.” The two of you laughed quietly, and you sat up enough to kiss Benny’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He responded, kissing you again before hugging you tight against him.

[sintowinemily]

You're Somebody Else

Flashback: 20 February 1998

Summary: It's Katie's 18th birthday, but Spencer gets a present too.

Warnings: smut, virgin!Spencer, dirty talk, cursing, slight angst at the beginning, mutual pining, third person, abrupt ending.

Word Count: 3.2k

Find parts 1 & 2 here!

taglist: @honey-on-my-lips

Click here to be added to my taglist!

Katie paced back and forth across her apartment. Today was her eighteenth birthday, which was meant to be a special day. And it would have been, if her mother hadn’t passed away just before Christmas, and if her best friend would answer the phone. She sighed and dialled Spencer’s number again. It went to voicemail, again.

“Hey, it’s me. Just wondering where you are, for the third time this evening. Call me back.”

She waited fifteen minutes and didn’t receive a call back, or an email. She tried again.

“Spencer – if you didn’t want to hang out, that’s fine. But at least call me and let me know. It’s the polite thing to do. Even your mom called me. Even your mom remembered it was my birthday. Jackson is at a stupid frat thing tonight and I really don’t want to be alone on my birthday. Call me.” Her voice was getting agitated. She was seldom annoyed with Spencer, their personalities moulded so perfectly together that there was rarely an opportunity for arguments. 

“Hello!” She heard a familiar voice bellow as her apartment door swung open, she spun around immediately. Now blissfully aware of the tears rolling down her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Where have you been Spencer?”

“I was at the store,” he held up two gift bags. “These are for you.”

“You’re an hour late.” 

“Yeah, I-uh, couldn’t get a cab.” She didn’t entirely believe him but didn’t want to argue. “I’m sorry I’m late, I just wanted to make your birthday special.” And just like that, she couldn’t help but return the wide smile he gave her.

“Don’t listen to your voicemails.” She warned as they sat together on the couch.

“Oh dear, you’re that annoyed with me, huh?”

“I was. You’re here now.”

“Where’s Jackson?”

“I don’t know.”

“What a great boyfriend.” He almost spits the last word out.

Katie can’t give a good reason for dating Jackson, he’s a sophomore majoring in communications at USC, and was a quarterback in High School. He’s the exact opposite of the type of guy she would see as her type – he looks like an Abercrombie and Fitch model, and he probably has never read a book unless he got class credits for it. But he told her that it's sexy how smart she is, and he held her hand when her mom died. And his frat brothers bring her booze when she hangs out at their place. A bottle of which, she stole for her evening with Spencer. 

“I know you don’t like him.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You can’t even give me a reason why.”

“I don’t think I need to.” He shrugs and notices her confused look. “You can’t give me a good reason not to hate him.” He isn’t wrong, “enough about him, open your present.”

She opens the giftbags, and as suspected they are filled with books and VHS tapes of old Russian movies the pair had been planning to watch, but for some reason are rarely shown in Californian theatres, and a silver bracelet with a heart charm, which looks expensive. She gives him a look, she doesn’t need to say thank you for the gifts, they don’t need words this pair. He smiles and shakes his hand, as if to tell her not to worry about it. She immediately puts it on. 

At the bottom of the bag is a card, which she rips open, as a card hoarder this is always her favourite gift to receive. Like her father, Spencer takes birthday cards very seriously. The front is a joke-card about the redistribution of wealth, he likes to joke that deep down, she’s a communist. She isn’t. But it’s what is written inside that makes her heart drop.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)

Happy Birthday,

Love, Spencer. 

“Spencer.” She tries to say something, but she isn’t sure what to say. The poem is E.E. Cummings. She wonders if the verse he’s chosen is a message he hopes to get across, but she doesn’t get her hopes up. She has a boyfriend.

“I can give you a reason.”

“What?”

“I can give you a reason not to be with Jackson.” Spencer can barely get the words out, and when he does they only muster a whisper. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He contemplates stating the obvious, that Jackson is awful, but he’s reminded of something. Something Mr Miller told him before he died. To be bold. To always be bold, and not to be afraid of a bad outcome, if the possible good outcome could be the best thing that could ever happen to you. Katie is the best thing to ever happen to Spencer, and he knows it. He also believes he isn’t good enough for her, and he knows there’s no way she’ll say it back. Jackson looks like a jacked-up football player, who doesn’t know his ass from his feet. Jackson is a jacked-up football player who doesn’t know his ass from his feet, but maybe that’s what Katie wants. Maybe that’s what Katie is attracted to. Not a skinny kid, who at eighteen hasn’t even had his first kiss. 

Katie had dragged him to a party the summer before, and Spencer knows he probably could have made out with a drunk sophomore. But he didn’t. Katie questioned him the whole way home why he didn’t make a move, he didn’t have the guts to tell her she was the reason why. 

“Go on.” She presses.

“I love you.”

“Yeah, Spencer, I know. I love you too.” This is something they say all the time, whenever they hang up the phone, or leave each other’s apartments. 

“No.” Be bold Spencer. “I’m in love with you. I have been for years, I just didn’t know that’s what it was. I’ve been so infatuated with you since we were kids. And I know that you’re my best friend, and I know you love Jackson. I don’t care if you don’t love me back, I just had to tell you. I had to be bold for once in my life because I never say how I feel or ask for what I want. I never do. But I am now. I am so irrevocably in love with you that it makes me feel sick. Your dad told me to be bold, so I’m being bold. I am in love with you, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.” He feels like the oxygen has all but been taken from his lungs, he’s winded and out of breath and his cheeks have never felt this warm.

A long silence passes, and he’s sure he’s fucked up. She’ll probably never speak to him again.

“My dad?” Is all she replies.

“Yeah, your dad. He knew. He always knew I think.”

“I don’t love Jackson.” She sighs, an unrelated response, but one that makes Spencer hopeful.

“You don’t?”

“I only started dating him, because I thought it would make my feelings for you go away.”

“Your-your feelings for m-me?” Spencer stutters and raises an eyebrow, this seemed too good to be true. Katie shuffles closer to him on the couch, their thighs grazing one another. Spencer is desperately trying not to make it obvious that he’s holding his breath. She nods in response to his question, confirming what they now both knew to be true. Her hand moves to his thigh and feels the wind get knocked back out of his again, the reaction is a long sigh, a struggled, whimpering sound accompanies it. He’s immediately embarrassed but Katie doesn’t seem to notice.

“Do you know what I want for my birthday?”

“What?” His breathing is shaky, and he’s started to sweat – great. 

“I want you to kiss me, Spencer.”

“I’ve never-“

“I know,” she cuts him off. “But, I want to be the first girl you kiss.”

“I want you to be the last girl I kiss.” She giggles at how quickly he shoots back, his unwavering need for his affection to be known.

“Then do it.” She’s hesitant as well, if they do this, they’ll never be friends as they had been. This is a line that shouldn’t be crossed, but she really hopes he’ll cross it with her. She was going to break up with Jackson tomorrow anyway.

Spencer doesn’t move and she’s worried that this is a sign of rejection, that he isn’t ready for this, that now the option is in front of him, he won’t take it. But when she meets his eyes, she can tell he’s nervous, he doesn’t want to get this wrong. Her heart swells.

Instead, she leans forward, cupping his jaw in her hands and brushes her lips lightly over his, to give him room to back away if he changes his mind. The opposite happens, and the boy she’s known for six years, her best friend, lunges forward pushing his lips harshly against hers. She moans at the pressure, she’s kissed a few boys – but has never felt this. This desire for more passion. They continue like this for a few moments, before she runs her tongue over his bottom lip, begging for entrance, he obliges, and the passion increases. 

Spencer’s brain is in overload, he’s not quite sure how he got there, but he is acutely aware of how fantastic Mr Miller’s advice was. Be bold. So, Spencer moves his hands from where they were hovering lightly on Katie’s waist, grabs her thighs and pulls her onto his lap. She breaks the kiss away, and looks at him in shock, he isn’t quite sure why until he resurfaces from his heightened state and realises, his forming erection is pushing into her. 

“I’m sorry.” He tries to apologise, even though he’s just confessed how embarrassingly he is in love with her, he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Please don’t pretend to not know what I’m talking about.” He blushes, her pretend ignorance will only make this worse. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You haven’t.” He is shocked by her reply and looks up to meet her eyes. What he sees shocks him, the darkness in her eyes and the smirk across her face. This is a side to Katie he has never seen before. “Spencer?”

“Katie?”

“Have you ever touched yourself?”

“Ye-yes.” He stutters. What is happening.

“Have you ever thought of me?” She begins to lightly pull at the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck, he lets out a whimper which makes all the blood in her body run to her heat. “Be honest.”

“Yes.”

“What did you think about?” She smiles when he doesn’t reply, he gives her a knowing look. “Do you want to know what I’ve thought about?”

At this point, Spencer is sure he’s being pranked. There’s no way Katie, who’s had one boyfriend or another for the last two years, has thought about him like this at all. “You’ve thought about it?”

“Specifically? I’ve thought about your hands.”

“My hands?” This is odd, this isn’t in any textbook Spencer had read. Katie leans down and presses a light kiss next to Spencer’s ear.

“Yes, your hands. Do you know how many times I’ve watched you turn pages of a book, or skim over pages with your fingers? Do you know how many times I’ve watched you play chess, or shuffled cards? Do you know how much that’s turned me on?” She whispers, in a voice he has never heard her use. The tent in his pants is getting almost unbearable, he’s throbbing at this point, and she hasn’t even touched him yet. His hands tighten their grip on her thighs, if he was conscious of this, he would have been worried about hurting her. He doesn’t reply. “Do you want to know what I have thought about your hands doing to me?”

He nods.

“I’ve thought about your hands running through my hair, holding my hips down and begging me to let you fuck me. I’ve thought about your hands inside of me, inside of me, inside my mouth.” She’s still whispering in his ear, so she can’t see how bites down on his lip to prevent the groan from escaping his lips. What he doesn’t know, is that his hips are about to buck upwards involuntarily. 

“Would you like that baby?”

Spencer has no idea who is on his lap right now, but she looks like Katie, and she sounds like Katie, and he has never been so turned on in his life. This is everything he’s thought about alone at night, but better. 

“Yes.” He nods and she pulls away to look at him. “Please.”

She smiles for a second before it drops from her face, and he worries he’s done something wrong. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She only now fully takes stock of the fact that Spencer is a virgin, and she worries that she’s said too much.

“God, more than anything.”

She smashes her lips back against his, no longer suppressing their desire, they both begin to devour one another. His hands have moved from her thighs to her ass, gaining confidence from the noises she makes as he roughly grabs her ass, he’s sure he’ll leave marks from his fingernails, but he doesn’t suppose she’ll mind. His cock is pushed into her hard now, she can feel the throbbing through her yoga pants, desperate for some friction she begins to rock her hips into him. The whimper that escapes Spencer’s lips is the only noise she could hear for the rest of his life; she’s so turned on that by now she doesn’t care about crossing any lines. She must have him. 

He pulls away from the kiss, and Katie’s worried that this was too much. Maybe he doesn’t want to go that far tonight.

“Can I take your clothes off?” Be bold Spencer, be bold.

“Thought you’d never ask.” She smiles and he gingerly begins to take the hem of her top in his fingers, playing with it a little before pulling it over her head. Spencer is a teenage boy, he’s seen porn – it wasn’t like he was getting much action elsewhere. But now, God, now he’s so grateful for his eidetic memory as he takes in her breasts which are bare and free. Her nipples are hard, and he so desperately wants to take them in his mouth. Spencer looks to the girl on his lap for approval and she gives a small nod, reaching down to palm his clothed erection. 

Spencer moans into her skin, his tongue swilling over her pebbled nipples, leaving little kisses over the peaks. His hands have moved up to her back, and she can feel the strap of his watch against her skin as he stretches out his hand over the base of her back. He’s pushing her closer towards him, nuzzling his face into her breasts, satisfied by the moans, and panting he can hear which tells him this feels good for her as well. 

Katie moves face down to his neck, leaving small kisses from his ear to his Adam’s apple, with each one she can hear his breathing quicken and the strain in his pants get worse.

“Spencer.”

“Uh-huh?” He eyes show his disappointment at being pulled away from her breasts, he had been suckling on her nipples intently for what seemed like forever and given the choice, he would never have stopped.

“Do you want me to help with that?”

“God, please.” He gasps in relief; she laughs at his response. The awkwardness had begun to dissipate, and after all their worrying this felt like truly the most natural thing in the world, the giggles and all.

“Okay, I’m gonna take your pants off. Alright?”

“Only if you take yours off too.” He smirks, cocky bastard.

She stands and they shimmy the rest of their clothes off, left in only their underwear. Spencer lies back down on the couch, stretched out and propping his head up on a pillow. He really hopes she resumes her place on top of him, and grins when she does. 

“What do you want?”

“I get to choose?”

“Anything for you.” She says, and begins to kiss down his chest, stopping when she can feel his breathing get faster when she reaches his naval.

“Fuck me, please.” He groans, “if you carry on like that I’ll finish too quickly.”

“Sure you’re okay with that? Not exactly the most romantic setting?” She looks up to glance around at her shitty apartment.

“As long as it’s you I really could not give a fuck.” This makes Katie laugh, Spencer never curses.

“Okay baby, okay.” She removes her underwear and Spencer can’t help but stare, he’s never seen a girl naked in person before. She removes his boxers and watches his cock spring free, now that was not something she had expected Spencer to be carrying around. He notices her staring, and his boldness withers, he becomes self-conscious again.

“Sorry, I know you’re probably used to better.”

“Spencer, you are more than fine. Trust me, much more.” She assures him, and he believes her. She wouldn’t lie to him, this gives him the boost of confidence to pull her body down, closer to him so their chests are aching against one another. She lines his head up her slit, letting her arousal coat him. Spencer has never felt anything like it, his groans cannot be muffled, and his hips are out of control, he needs her more than anything. She’s whispering in his ear praises that only make matters worse, he is putty in her hands, and he’s elated. 

She stops teasing him and lowers herself down onto him, both of them gasp as he enters her. Katie is slow, trying to adjust to him – Jackson is definitely nowhere near as big as Spencer. Spencer, well, he’s trying not to cum immediately. He knew sex was good, there was no way people made such a big deal about it if it wasn’t, but he didn’t know it could be like this. And she hadn’t even moved yet.

“Katie,” he whimpers, barely forming the word. “I need you to move.”

“Or what?” She teases, she’s ready to start but was waiting for a sign of approval from her best friend that this was definitely okay. 

“Katie, I will come right now if you don’t move. Please.” He begs, his whimpering, the begging. She’s never had to take control during sex before, and she likes it. She likes it because it’s Spencer and this isn’t pretend, he is this innocent and honest. She knows now just how far his worship of her goes, beyond friendship and academia, put the fact he is hers. Completely. 

She rocks her hips back and forth, quickening the pace and slamming her hips down onto his. With every move, Spencer is vocal – in fact, he’s loud. His whimpers are the most gorgeous sound she’s ever heard, and she refuses to shut her eyes even for a moment in case she misses a second of how his face moves and contorts with each motion. One hand is grasping at the cushion behind his head, the other is pulling her into him by her back. Wanting every piece of her. 

[ystrike1]

Crazy Love Triangle - By Mizue (7.5/10)

Murder mysteries and memory loss don't usually mix well. There's a hint of intrigue here though. Our heroine broke up with her first, true, love after a traumatic incident. Her husband is not that first love, and he seems kind of obsessive.

Akari is a spoiled housewife with no responsibilities. She doesn't even have kids to worry about.

Her husband, Kyousuke, obsessively manages her appearance.

When she changes her look just slightly he tells her to change it back.

He seems like such a doting husband. He doesn't want her to wear heavy makeup because it will hurt her skin. He's openly affectionate, but then he says weird shit. It's clear that he experts her appearance to look like...his exact specifications.

Akari goes out and there's a flood. She panics and almost dies in the rising water.

A man who knows her name finds her. He saves her, and he seems cheerful.

It's her high school ex boyfriend. They were very much in love. When the panic wears off she remembers him.

The issue here is...she can't remember anything else. It's like her high school days have been wiped from her mind. She also used to be a tomboy, but now she's a pretty blond housewife.

Akari actually freaks out. There's this huge trauma gap in her memories. Arashi clearly remembers, but he doesn't want to say anything.

Then we realize that Akari was definitely involved in a murder back in high school. A creepy husband. A memory gap? An ex appearing out of nowhere? Is this going where I think it's going? Or is the author too cowardly to write a yandere fight?

[lovebillyhargrove]

A follow up to this *billy's camaro fic*

Next day the boys are busy. Well, it's mostly Steve who's busy. While having breakfast Billy tries insisting on coming with him to the repair shop, because of course he needs to see for himself who they are entrusting his precious baby to, but Harrington tells him it's too risky to be seen in public just yet. It's a small town, you never know who you're going to run into when you turn the corner. It might be Tommy, it might be Max, it might be their high school Lit teacher or Billy's former manager from the Hawkins community pool. It might be literally anyone who Billy is still not quite ready to see. Or, who aren't ready themselves to bump into a supposedly dead teenager looking very much alive and walking around the town like it's the most natural thing. Harrington has already resurrected the car once. To be more exact, he's found the right people to do it, so. He's not new to this. Billy finally listens to the voice of reason and just grabs the medicine kit to treat a couple of wounds that still bother him. Steve calls the tow truck service, and in two hours he's standing near the repair shop watching the camaro being unloaded from the truck.

"Kid, you gotta stop doing whatever you're doing to that car." - Old Joe tells Steve, shaking his head in disbelief, and Harrington just throws up his hands like the situation which led up to this was out of his control. It actually was, so it's nobody's fault.

When Steve gets home, he hears sizzling sounds coming from the kitchen.

"You want a grilled cheese sandwich, Harrington? Found stuff in the fridge, making some."

Wow, that's kinda new. Nobody has cooked anything for Steve in a long, looong, no you don't understand, a really long time

"Yeah, if that's okay?"

"So how did it go?"

"Well, the old man was uh .. confused? I don't think he expected me to be back like that. He was also sad .. ? Cause they fixed it up so well. Looked brand new, just a few weeks ago."

"He'll just have to do it again. If he agreed. Did he?"

"Yeah, yeah, he did. He knows the car, knows what to do. It's not as bad as the last time."

"When are they gonna be done?"

"He said he would call me tonight, or tomorrow morning, tell me about the time they'll need."

"How much is it?"

"Well, he didn't tell me the exact price, because .. he still needs to look into it, so .."

Hargrove's looking at Steve intently

"Listen, I'll give you the money back. But obviously not right now."

"Yeah, I mean .. You don't have to give me back anything."

"I will, Steve."

"If you want to, okay. We can talk about it later, really. We have like .. so many things to figure out first."

Billy's putting a sandwich on a plate and sliding it to Harrington.

"Lunch."

"Oh wow. Thanks."

After lunch Steve goes upstairs and searches through his drawer for Dr. Owens' phone number.

When Owens hears Steve's name, he asks immediately

"Is it acting up again, Steve?"

"What? Oh, no. No, everything is okay here, just .. do you remember Billy? Billy Hargrove?"

"Of course. The guy who died in Starcourt?"

"Yes. Well .. what would you say if I told you that .. hypothetically, I had some information about him being alive?"

Steve's feeling kinda stupid. He's not completely sure they can trust Owens, but they really have no-one to turn to if they need help with documents. Billy Hargrove is officially dead. Even if they are talking about a fake ID, with a different name, Steve doesn't have connections like that. And it's not just an ID. Driving license, high school diploma, where are they supposed to get all the papers from??

Steve's afraid he's not good at this trying-not-to-get-too-involved-with-the-government stuff. Fucking spy shit. Outlaw level.

"I'd say, it makes sense, Steve."

"R .. really? Why?"

"Well, you don't know that but .. when the scene was cleared and all of you were sent home after what happened in Starcourt, Billy's body .. was gone. After the paramedics announced his death, I believe the body was just laying there unsupervised for .. really, not more than only a few minutes, but when my people came to pick it up, it wasn't there, on the Starcourt floor. We searched everywhere, but it just vanished into thin air."

"Oh my god. So .."

"So I am not even too much surprised to hear your news."

"Why didn't you say anything .. to Billy's family? Who did you bury in that grave??"

"Steve, he was dead. How could I have explained this to his family?? It was a closed casket. It was an empty casket."

Owens is silent for a second.

"Now .. The more important question is, if Billy is alive, is there a chance that he's still flayed? Is he dangerous?"

Steve's looking at Billy sitting across from him and he understands that Billy understands too. What they are talking about. Probably he can hear Owens voice.

"Look, Dr. Owens, I uh .. first of all, the key word here is hypothetically. Like .. I don't even know if he's alive or not. But if he was and he didn't present any .. danger to people, would there be any possibility to get his life back to normal somehow? I mean, paperwork?"

"Anything is possible, Steve. But we would have to run some tests first probably."

Billy's tensing

Steve actually doesn't think it was such a great idea to call Owens now. Fuck. "One of the good ones", my ass.

"Dr. Owens, listen. Hypothetically .. -

Hargrove's rolling his eyes at hearing the word for the third time now

- .. speaking, a guy who came back from the dead would be very traumatized, right? What if .. what if there was a way not to run any tests in a lab or something like that?"

"I hear you, Steve. I would still need to see him, even if it was only me. How does that sound?"

Steve's looking at Billy. Hargrove is shrugging his shoulders.

"How can I be sure that it's only going to be you, Dr. Owens?"

"Steve. You've already been through so much. We've been through certain things together as well. You might have noticed I do things differently than my other colleagues. Will and Jane, they are living a usual life in California, right? We let them go. I just need to make sure Billy is not a threat."

"I see."

"Let's make a deal. I'll make all the papers ready. We'll meet and talk, the three of us, in a public place. Or I can visit the place where, hypothetically, -

Steve's covering the receiver with one hand and whispering to Hargrove "Is he mocking me?" -

" .. Billy is staying. Just me. If I see that everything is alright, that'll do. Billy will get his identification, and he's free to go. Believe it or not, we also want this mess to finish, once and for all."

Steve is hesitant, but, really, what choice do they have?

Billy's nodding.

"Okay. Okay, Dr. Owens. When and where should we meet?"

They agree for Steve to call Owens again in a week and decide on the meeting place.

"Good bye, Dr. Owens."

Steve can see that Billy is not very happy with this conversation.

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all."

"It's fine, Steve. What other options do I have anyway? I'm a dead man according to the system. I need the fucking papers. I can't get them without the fucking government."

"Yeah, yeah I know. But hey, I still think Owens is a good one."

"We'll see, Harrington. It's fine. Thanks for making that call."

Steve's still doubtful that it was a wise move, but he's honestly trying to help.

"What are you going to do for the rest of the day, Harrington?"

"Well I .. I need to call my mom? Check on her and kinda find out about their plans .. make sure they aren't gonna make a surprise visit here. And then, go grocery shopping. Can't take you with me, but uh .. tell me what you maybe need .. or want?"

"Steve, everything is fine, I don't need anything. I think I'm gonna go nap now. Do you wanna watch a movie later?"

"Sure. Sure, what do you have in mind?"

"What's new?"

They end up spending the afternoon and the evening cooking dinner together and watching "Back to the future" and re-watching "The Terminator" cause, apparently, they both like it, and Steve is enjoying it all so much, because he hasn't spent a day like that in a long, really long time. Also, he sort of has a suspicion Billy is enjoying himself as well, and it's not even awkward between them,

and this is strange, because if Steve recalls high school correctly, it was so strange, like Billy was out to get him and Steve was annoyed by it, and if you asked him about Hargrove he'd just say that he hated that loud Californian fuck, but in reality, and that's something he would've never told anyone, Steve sort of enjoyed his attention. Add in there those couple of times with those couple of dreams when he might've woken up with a situation in his underwear cause he ..

He really shouldn't think about it now.

Before going to bed Billy says to Steve

"Good night, man. Tomorrow we are closing that fucking portal." He's yawning and stretching and Steve still can't believe Hargrove's turned into some kind of a superhero.

***

In the early morning Old Joe calls and catches Steve on the doorstep leaving for work. He says everything is definitely not as bad as it was the previous time. They'll need two weeks, maybe two and a half, tops.

It's good news. Other good news is that Steve's parents are not planning on visiting their son for quite some time, and Steve was relieved to hear that yesterday.

Tonight they are having plans. Big plans. If he's honest with himself, Steve has been feeling so .. alive. Ever since this mess with the camaro started, and then with the hope that resident asshole Billy H. is somewhere out there, Steve's never felt lonely, or without a purpose, or like he was just wasting his life away.

***

They drive to the ruins of Starcourt after dark has set down. Billy is amazing. He throws his hand out and the air is charged with electricity, high voltage, skull and crossed bones, and

he does close the portal.

And even though he collapses on the ground right after it and Steve has to literally drag him to the beamer and inside the house to the couch again, Billy is still fucking gorgeous.

That night Steve dreams of the school basketball court and feels Hargrove's hot sweaty body pressing into his.

***

The next couple of weeks it's quiet. They get some kind of a routine going, and Steve would lie if he said he wasn't in a hurry to get home every evening. Robin's onto him and thinks he's got a girlfriend. Steve just surrounds himself with mystery and tells Robin that he can't go to the movies with her tonight, again, "Sorry Rob, some family business."

Everything is quiet and calm, and nothing really happens except their meeting with Owens. In a diner outside Hawkins, Billy's wearing a beanie and sunglasses on an absolutely sunless day, just like in spy movies, Steve's nervous, but everything goes well. Probably because they look like two teenage dumbasses "Just avoid using the word hypothetically, Steve." - "Shut up, Hargrove." and Owens understands no-one is flayed here anymore. Billy gets the whole shebang of brand new documents, and he's a free bird.

The camaro gets fixed, and when Steve brings her back, they celebrate. They are sitting in the car, shooting the shit, one of old Billy's tapes playing, and Billy smokes his first cigarette after July the 4th. He even gets through one bottle of beer and hugs Harrington before going to the guest room for the night "C'mere, man. Fucking thank you." His words are a bit slurry and eyes teary, and Steve melts into that brief hug although it's just a usual bro hug and he can't read too much into that, otherwise he won't be able to sleep tonight so he just says "See you in the morning, Billy" and watches Hargrove turn his broad back and close the door to the guest room. Billy's been gaining his weight back, and he just keeps looking better every day.

In the morning Steve's coming down to the smell of coffee in the kitchen. Billy's sitting at the table crunching on cereal. They exchange morning pleasantries and then Billy says

"Hey, Steve. I think I have to .. I have to go see my father."

To be continued

[the-realest-spot-conlon]

The Best Brothers Aren't Blood Related llll

Here we gooooo

Tw:mental health, ADHD, language

A slow burn series of Jack and Spot exploring newfound relationships, mental health, and high school as teenage brothers.

"Jack I can explain!" Spot said, trying not to let the worry show on his face, but he really didn't want to dissapoint Jack.

"FUCKING FINALLY! I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA HAVE TO FORCE YOU TWO TO TOGETHER!!" Jack shouted energetically.

"Race... and Spot?? I don't see it," Davey said, bringing his finger to his chin as he pondered the idea of Jack's new favorite couple.

"Fuck you David," Spot said sharply, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Yea Davey, fuck you!" Race added on to Spot's comment, and copying his motion as well.

"Oh, yea, now I see it," Davey said, getting a laugh out of his boyfriend next to him. Spot and Race both high-fived at Davey's acceptance, getting more of a rise out of Jack.

The room went silent after that for a solid thirty seconds before Race said, "Well, this is awkward," breaking the silence.

The whole group nodded in unison as they just kind of sat there, like the awkward adolescents they were.

"Well I'm gonna go, and hopefully Davey you'll follow me," Jack said, winking at his boyfriend before exiting to his own room. Spot fake gagged loud enough for the two to hear, only for Jack to say, "Oh please you're probably about to fuck my best friend," as Davey walked out.

Needless to say that left Spot and Race both speechless.

"Why do you have a whiskey bottle on your nightstand," Race inquired, looking at the bottle of Eagle Rare whiskey on Spot's desk.

"It was my dad's before he passed away. He collected whiskey, and that was his favorite," Spot replied, and he luckily seemed pretty chill about it, as if he had come to terms with his father's death.

"Oh yea didn't he die on that trip to Ireland when he went to tour the distillery?" Race asked. Spot's dad had died when Spot was 10, five years ago, when Medda took Spot in. Mr. Conlon was on a vacation to Ireland when his plane crashed, resulting in the death of the father of everyone's favorite Irish kid- Spot.

"Yup, exactly five years and 19 days ago," Spot said, looking off at the bottle.

Race wasn't gonna question why Spot knew the exact amount of days, because Race knew better than anyone that people coped in different ways.

"My mom died when I was seven," Race said, causing a piercing silence to ring through the air. "My dad drank to cope with the pain. Took it out on me,"

"Race I'm so sorry," Spot said. "Does he still do it?"

"No, not anymore. My aunt sent him to rehab and I lived with her for a year, and when he came back it was like he was a new person." Race smiled slightly, thinking about how his father went from abusive to one of the best fathers in the world (in Race's opinion).

"Oh yea, don't you have one of those big-ass Italian families?" Spot asked. Race and Spot had known each other since they were little kids, what with Jack being best friends with Race. "Yea, Jack took me along to dinner at your house when I was ten. Just a few weeks after my dad died," Spot added.

"Oh yea, I remember my grandma got so sad just looking at you. You had puffy eyes, wouldn't talk to anyone-"

"Let's not dwell on the past," Spot joked. Spot hasn't been one to show vulnerability for a while now, he didn't need his past tainting that reputation.

"Let me take you out on a date," Race changed the subject, picking up on Spot's hints. "I'll pick you up at 6:00 tommorow,"

"Sounds great," Spot replied, biting back the biggest grin of his life.

Race's face practically beamed at Spot's acceptance.

"Can't wait," spot said truthfully.

"Me neither, Sean," Race replied. He knew just how much Spot hated his real name.

"You bastard!" Spot said, causing Race to clutch his stomach laughing.

♧----------♧

"So what are you gonna wear?" Jack said as though they were thirteen year old girls talking about a date to Dairy Queen.

"Fuck, I dunno," Spot shrugged, stealing a bite of ice cream from Jack's bowl.

"We you better figure it out. Race is probably gonna take you to this fancy Italian restaurant he loves. I think its called Fibonacci's or something," Jack said, slapping Spot's hand when it reached for more ice cream.

"You mean like the math sequence?" Spot asked, questioning Jack's sources.

"I dunno I'm probably just fucking stupid,"

"I second that," Spot agreed.

"Asshole," Jack mumbled pointedly.

"Dickbag,"

"Love you too, Spotty,"

"Call me that one more time and I'll strangle you,"

How did you guys like it? I tried to add some depth to Spot and Race's characters, but idk if it was any good. Constructive criticism welcome just don't be a bitch about it <333

[digyoman]

as someone only familiar with the tv show and unwilling to read a stephen king book for the crumbs, are there lloyd, flagg, and lloydflagg bits of book lore that the show left out that you'd like the public to know?

absolutely! i’m so glad you asked, because i know a thing or two about lloyd & flagg, and the show really didn’t do them justice. at all. there’s so much about them that the writers got wrong, or just left out entirely, and it haunts me at night. but i have a lot of details about their portrayal in the book committed to memory, and i’ve been dying for a chance to talk about them! so i will happily share my knowledge with the public. :)

but first, i want to point out that the book and the tv show are very different, especially when it comes to las vegas. in the novel, vegas isn’t a glitzy and hedonistic paradise — it’s quite literally the exact opposite of that. in the book’s vegas, rules are strict, work is the main priority, and of course, people are killed for stepping out of line. i’m only bringing this up because it has a major effect on how we’re meant to view lloyd & flagg!

okay. i’m done with my tangent. on to the book lore (under the cut because it’s long af SORRY):

lloyd:

contrary to how he’s portrayed in the show, lloyd is a very brutal criminal. in the first chapter he’s introduced, he gets high out of his mind, kills six people, then shoots up a convenience store. and he does all of this without remorse. :)

the newspapers call him “the baby-faced unrepentant killer” lmao!

he’s supposed to get the death penalty for his crimes; if captain tripps hadn’t swept in, it’s very likely he would’ve been sentenced to the electric chair. he’s both outraged and terrified by this possibility, and his lawyer comes up with a defense story similar to what actually happened in the tv show: he was manipulated into committing murder, and poke threatened to take his life if he didn’t comply. of course, they never get to use this story, because everybody dies before lloyd can go to trial.

during that conversation with his lawyer, he reveals that he’s a sixth-grade dropout. (there’s actually a continuity error with this, because later in the book, king says lloyd quit school after repeating his junior year for the third time. so really, you could say either is true, but i stick with sixth grade because it came first and it’s funnier.)

throughout his time in prison, he faces a lot of physical and verbal abuse from the guards. they insult him, threaten him, spit in his face, and pay other inmates to beat him up. :(

as a result, lloyd develops a very strong grudge against people in authority. he thinks of them all as selfish assholes who use their power to abuse people like him who can’t help themselves. (there’s a lot of irony here, especially when you consider what he allows to happen when he gets a taste of that power in las vegas!) his hate continues to grow as he’s left to rot behind bars, and in his starvation-induced delirium, he comes up with the concept of THE KEY: a symbol of power that allows people in charge to do whatever they want, without getting punished. he stays alive out of spite, determined to one day get revenge on the kind of people who hold THE KEY and take some of that power for himself. this makes the moment when flagg hands him the key to his cell much more impactful, and adds a lot more symbolic weight to the flawed stone he wears around his neck, as well.

something else he spends some time thinking about is the pet rabbit he had as a kid. he had won it at a school auction, somehow, and he convinced his dad to let him keep it on the condition that he would take care of it all on his own. he loved that rabbit more than anything, and he did take care of it. for a little while. but things tended to slip his mind easily, and so he ended up forgetting all about his rabbit. by the time he remembered it, two weeks had gone by, and when he ran to the little shed where he kept it in its cage, he found it had starved to death. its paws were all ragged and bloody, presumably from trying to dig its way out. anyway, as lloyd is thinking about this, he’s absentmindedly trying to unscrew a leg of his cot with his bare fingers, because he’s going crazy and he needs something to do with his hands. there’s blood everywhere. and when he looks at his hands, he can’t help but think of the bloody paws of his long-dead rabbit, left to starve, alone, in a cage. and that’s when the cold reality of his situation starts to sink in. (i’m obsessed with this symbolism it’s so good!!)

his fingertips are forever scarred, after that. even in vegas, he still has the faded marks to remind him of his experience in prison. :’)

when he starts working as flagg’s right-hand man, he becomes a lot more capable. he’s still not very bright, but he’s able to manage things effectively. i’m throwing this detail in here because the show made him into a blundering idiot and i need people to know that he is not!! over the course of the entire story, he transforms from a dumbass criminal into a decently competent guy, and that’s a very important part of his character that the tv show didn’t explore at all. (it also has an impact on his relationship with flagg, but i’ll talk about that later!)

one of his newly discovered skills is that he’s an expert diplomat! he’s had to deal with his fair share of crazy people throughout his life, and that has taught him how to anticipate and de-escalate conflict to protect himself and others from getting hurt. that’s a damn good skill to have, working for a guy like randall flagg. it’s implied that this is the only reason he’s survived for so long.

also, he’s good with kids!! can you believe it!! the former mass murderer is super loved by all the kids in vegas!! in particular, this four year old boy named dinny loves him to death. lloyd always gives him chocolate whenever he sees him and it’s the cutest thing ever. <3

he takes showers. like. all the time. dayna calls it his “cleanliness compulsion.” it’s not talked about much, but it’s heavily implied to be a trauma response from his time in prison. (and the ongoing trauma of las vegas probably doesn’t help.)

even though he gets a lot smarter under flagg’s command, his memory is still fucking awful. so, to avoid the risk of possibly forgetting something important, he carries around this little black notebook called his “memory book” where he keeps track of all the things he has to get done.

one of his main responsibilities in las vegas is to supervise/carry out public executions. he doesn’t like this job, but he gets it done, anyway. and this is so interesting, especially when it’s contrasted with how outraged he was when he was going to get the death penalty, earlier in the book!!

he dies with the most iconic last words ever: “oh shit, we’re all fucked!”

flagg:

okay. here’s the thing. i don’t actually know a lot about flagg off the top of my head. i spend a lot of time thinking about lloyd (in case you couldn’t tell!) and usually only think about flagg when he factors into my thoughts about lloyd. but, since you asked, i can provide a few details!

flagg’s background is vague, even to him. he says that at some point he just "became.” but he has fleeting memories of being a marine, a klansman, a viet cong member, and having a hand in the kidnapping of patty hearst.

he’s very well-read. his pockets are stuffed with pamphlets on various topics with all different kinds of rhetoric, and he pulls from this broad spectrum of knowledge to sympathize with certain people and convince them to join his side.

he uses fake names all the time. they all have the initials ‘r.f.’

he has a lot of other nicknames, too. the people in vegas are afraid to say his name, so they call him a lot of different things: the dark man, the walkin’ dude, the hardcase, the midnight rambler… the list goes on.

in addition to not wanting to say his name, the people of vegas usually make the sign of the cross, genuflect, or make the sign of the evil eye whenever his name is brought up in conversation, as if to protect themselves.

lloydflagg:

the last lines of chapter thirty-nine, when they meet in the prison for the first time, are: “lloyd turned and looked into that grinning face with something more than gratitude. he looked at flagg with something like love.” <3

as a whole, lloyd’s relationship with flagg is very complicated. lloyd carries a mixture of reverence and fear when he’s around him — and, when things start to go downhill, he starts to question just how capable flagg really is. HOWEVER, and this is the most important thing: it does not change his loyalty to flagg. not even a little. most people would probably be looking for the fastest way out, if they were in his position, but he doesn’t. he does as he’s told, and puts up with flagg’s crazy evil shenanigans, without even considering the idea of leaving his side.

towards the end of the novel, lloyd actually has a chance to get out; one of his friends tells him he’s thinking of leaving vegas, and asks him to come along, but he says no. and he has this entire monologue where he talks about how grateful he is to flagg, how he feels like flagg changed him — he made him smarter, made him better, and without him, lloyd thinks, he would be nothing. so, he can’t even think of leaving vegas, because he can’t live without him. the new miniseries fucked this up so badly by trying to give him a “redemption arc,” and i’m only slightly (extremely) upset about it!

without a doubt, the most important flagg/lloyd scene happens after glen bateman dies. in the book, that whole confrontation takes place in a prison (!!!) and it’s not being televised, it’s just the three of them, and it’s so much more intense and intimate because of that. in this version, glen mocks flagg right to his face, and flagg gets so enraged that he orders lloyd to kill him. lloyd struggles to do it — not because he’s reluctant to do as flagg asks, but because he’s so physically and mentally drained that he can’t even shoot straight. glen tries to appeal to lloyd’s better nature, but it ultimately ends the same way: with lloyd putting bullet after bullet through him. and when it’s done, flagg gets all gentle and praises lloyd for doing as he was told. and then he coaxes lloyd to renew his promise of unconditional loyalty. the same promise he made in a different jail cell, so many months ago. and lloyd, despite all of his doubts, assures flagg that he is still his “good and faithful servant.” and he always will be.

[tf2-oneshots]

Dad spy trying to explain to scout that he is in fact his dad and not tom jones. Tomfoolery ensues. This is up to interpretation make of this ask what you will. Thank you, xoxo.

Using this as my first angst prompt sorry in advance!

Warnings: angst, abandonment, past bullying

Rating: Teen and up

Two dainty knocks land on Scout’s door. Must be Spy. When you work with the same eight guys for six years, you memorize how each one of them knocks on your door. Scout sets his comic book aside and sits upright on his bed. So much for a lazy Sunday.

“Come in.” He calls out. Spy opens the door, taking only a couple steps into the room. He peers around as if to ensure that no one else was present. She really wishes someone was here to avoid this.

“Scout, I would like to talk to you about something.” The door shuts behind Spy, but he doesn’t move. Like he’s frozen where he stands. God, how did her plan go? He thought of the millions of ways this could end, and only one was a good ending.

“Uh, okay? What is it?” Scout raises a brow. Usually, people only talk to him when he has a contract or did something wrong. On the rare occasion, its to move his motorcycle to another parking spot. Why does she look so emotionless?

Spy takes a seat on the edge of Scout’s bed. The man pulls his legs against his chest, giving her a bit of room. Everything feels so surreal. Maybe this is just a dream, and Spy will gasp awake in his bed when Scout throttles him. She really hopes it’s all just a dream.

“Tom Jones died in his 20s, Scout. You are aware of this, yes?” Off to a weird start. Scout prides himself in being the president of the Tom Jones fan club. He knows every single fact about the man down to the exact instruments he uses in every song. To not know how old his idol was when Merasmus broke his neck, according to the newspapers at least, would be unheard of.

“Uh, yeah. Too young to go if, uh, you ask me.” Spy nods. They can agree on that. Dying before 30 is tragically young for anyone, famous or not. She looks over to the younger man whose gaze is focused on a Tom Jones poster.

“Much too young. Too young to be your father as well.” He braces for a slap, but nothing happens. Scout stays silent. Maybe he didn’t hear her. Maybe he doesn’t want to hear. Spy takes a slow breath, back to staring at the wall.

“Scout, I…” It’s right there. Right fucking there on her tongue. He can taste the words begging to slip from his lips. Spy hates what a coward he is. She spent 24 years on the run, but the past caught up to bite her in the ass. Damn, does he wish he had a cigarette.

“I…met a woman in my youth. She had seven children, and I adored them. So much so that…we made an eighth. His name was Jeremy.” Damnit, damnit, damnit all! She always dances around with hidden meanings and half assed phrases. It seems that Spy’s own heart wears a mask.

“You…were that boy. Scout, I—“ As he turns to Scout, she sees the disgust on his face. His button nose scrunched tightly with eyes narrowed. Scout gets off of his bed, staring down at Spy.

“Don’t fucking joke about that.” His legs are shaking. Scout tries to breathe, but it’s short and trembling. How could Spy be so cruel to say that? Scout remembers how miserable being fatherless was as a child. He watched so many dads carry their sons into ice cream shops. He saw them in the stands wearing messy ties made in Home EC during sewing lessons.

It wasn’t just jealousy he suffered from. When word got out about Scout not having a dad, he was tormented relentlessly. He spent one Father’s Day getting shoved in a locker. That’s when he dislocated his shoulder and had to fend off an eighth grader with one hand. He really wishes his last oldest brother didn’t move on to high school that year.

“Scout, I have nothing to gain from a joke. You’re my son, and I’m so sorry for leaving.” Spy sighs, fighting the lump in her throat. She remembers the swarm of little boys around his legs, eager to meet their new baby brother. He still recalls sitting on the floor, chuckling as they surrounded him, leaning in to finally meet Jeremy.

“My dad’s dead.” That’s what Ma told him on his seventh birthday. Scout had grown curious as to why all of his friends had dads but not him. Not any of his brothers actually unless the handful of birthday cards in the mail counts. A couple with money and others empty without even a drop of ink written on them.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, so I told your mother to say that.” It was heartbreaking how unfazed Caroline was when Spy told her. She had endured it seven times before, so how painful could an eighth be? The only part that stung, she admitted, was that Spy bothered to stay. Even if only long enough to witness Scout’s first steps, he gave Caroline hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, someone else could commit to the parent role.

Scout turns away, fists clenched before he grips his hair. Ma would never lie to him. She’s a good mother, and she loves Scout more than anything. She’d be honest if his dad was a deadbeat who was in over his head. All of his older brothers know what happened to their dads. Dead, arrested, second family, ran off, and so forth.

“Scout, please, I—“ Spy stands, placing a hand on his shoulder only for it to be shrugged off. Scout keeps his head down to stare at his feet. He gulps, eyes shut to fight back tears.

“My dad is dead.” That’s the truth. That’s the only truth. Scout won’t listen to anything else. His dad died when he was a baby. There’s a headstone somewhere in America with his name etched onto it. Scout will never meet him no matter what.

“…Okay.” Spy purses her lips. He nods, trying to understand how Scout feels. Maybe one day he’ll come around. Maybe he’ll stab her in her sleep. He wipes away tears and takes a breath before leaving the younger’s room. Some things are better left the way they are.

Poor Spy can we get an F in the chat -H

[muses-sirens-editors]

specifically for @illuminfae-ix

Dominic St. Ambrose School

I don‘t know of anyone who lets their child walk to school these days.  But growing up in Buffalo, New York in the late fifties and very early sixties, it was commonplace.  Once we were old enough to cross streets by ourselves, we were sent off to school in the morning, returned home for lunch, and then went back to school until three o’clock.  I don’t remember walking with my brother and sisters, although I am certain I must have.  I also don’t remember ever missing a day of school because of snow, although I do remember playing on the drifts as I walked there, imagining forts built so strong and high I could not see over nor dig through the walls erected by the clearing of the sidewalk and street.  My cousins who still live in Buffalo tell me this memory is likely accurate.  It took a LOT to close down schools in Buffalo, and heavy snowfall, even in copious amounts, was just some other thing, some routine to manage.

It would have been about second grade or so one day when I was sitting in class that I peed in my pants.  I was young enough not to anticipate the need to raise my hand to be excused, but old enough to be totally embarrassed that I was sitting on a wet desk seat with dark stained pants.  Mortification overwhelmed me, and I did not know what to do.  Looking left and right, nobody seemed to notice, thankfully.  I was frozen with my embarrassment.  Trying hard to strategize my way out of this predicament, I glanced over my right shoulder.  (Imagine remembering which shoulder you glanced over after more than sixty years!)  A boy with a closely trimmed haircut and a round face that made his ears seem to poke out was discretely leaning forward toward me with a handful of Kleenexes.  No words were spoken. His name was Dominic, and we weren’t playmates.  He walked home the other way from school than I did.  I don’t believe I had ever spoken to him outside of class and recess.  Gratefully, I took the Kleenexes and cleaned up around myself.  But I don’t remember how that day ended, although it must not have been particularly bad.  We continued in school.  The incident was never mentioned.  I was not teased.

Later that year, our teacher, who was a lay person, not a nun, came before us filled with emotion.  She told us Dominic had died.  She did not give us details as to whether it was an accident or illness.  She simply led us in a prayer for his soul and for his family.  It was likely the Catholic prayer for the dead: “Eternal rest grant unto him, oh Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him.  May his soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.  Amen.”

Catholics do not believe most anyone, when they die, can go straight to heaven.  There is a place of purification where the spirit goes before becoming sufficiently cleansed, for heaven is a place of pure perfection.  The place is called “purgatory,”  and this is the reason Catholics pray for their dead.  Described this way, it seems somewhat contrived.   But in the collective consciousness I think humans have understood, even expected this concept from the earliest times.  Wikipedia notes “The idea of purgatory has roots that date back into antiquity. A sort of proto-purgatory called the "celestial Hades" appears in the writings of Plato and Heraclides Ponticus and in many other pagan writers. This concept is distinguished from the Hades of the underworld described in the works of Homer and Hesiod. In contrast, the celestial Hades was understood as an intermediary place where souls spent an undetermined time after death before either moving on to a higher level of existence or being reincarnated back on earth. Its exact location varied from author to author. Heraclides of Pontus thought it was in the Milky Way; the Academicians, the Stoics, Cicero, Virgil, Plutarch, the Hermetical writings situated it between the Moon and the Earth or around the Moon; while Numenius and the Latin Neoplatonists thought it was located between the sphere of the fixed stars and the Earth.

Hollywood likewise has used this notion in movies like “Heaven Can Wait” when Warren Beaty finds himself in a way station after his accidental demise.  And Mitch Albom in his book “The Five People You Meet Before Going to Heaven” describes a similar waiting place for those who have died.  But once past this atonement period in purgatory the person goes to heaven, and the soul is recognized as a saint, a spirit existing in full communion with the Holy Trinity. Now for many, the Catholic tradition of praying to saints for the Lord’s intercession may also seem odd.  And “praying” may be a confusing term to many who only use that description to reflect an attempted communication to the Lord,  Themselves.  But praying to a saint actually takes more of the form of a discussion, obviously usually one way, between the living and the spirit.  Certain saints are known for their intercession for particular causes, St. Christopher for safe travel, St. Michael the archangel or Joan of Arc for protection in battle, St. Jude for hopeless causes, etc.  But as I grew up, I came to realize Dominic MUST be in heaven, and therefore a saint, for what could a second grader have done that would be so egregious in the eyes of the Lord that he would not almost immediately be taken up to heaven?  Surely after only a minimum amount of time at most, Dominic must be seated in that place of eternal glory, not atoning for some grievous sins in a place that is neither heaven nor hell. And if that logic were true, he must be a saint on the same order of Christopher, Joan of Arc, Jude, Francis, Peter, Paul, Cosmos and Damian, et al.

And so, over time, I came to think of Dominic as my personal patron in heaven.  I have discussed job problems, girlfriend, and later, family issues with him, prayed for his intercession to God for friends and family struggling with all manner of issues.  After all, he saw me in my distress in this world and quietly came to my aid.  Came to MY aid!  Surely he would share the same compassion for me in the spirit realm. 

A few weeks before my retirement I happened to be near Buffalo, and so made a side trip to my old neighborhood.  I wanted to see if I could find out Dominic’s last name, if he had any living relatives with whom I might share his story of thoughtfulness.  I imagined going up to a very old couple and telling them I remembered their son, telling them this story.  I wanted to tell them I still talked to Dominic, that I held him in the highest of regard.  But the years had erased all traces I might have left behind, and so too for Dominic.  I had waited too long. But for right now, Illuminfae-ix, I'm talking to Dominic about YOUR situation, asking for his aid, his intercession to our Lord for you.  Who could refuse the request of such a compassionate young child? I will also ask my daughter, whose faith is as great as the mustard seed that could move mountains, to keep you in her prayers as well.  We don't know you, but we will love you and pray for you to help you through all this.

[realmadridfamily]

“My father told me: Ana, Davide is from another world, we are people next door.”

When young Ana Galocha (Seville, 1985) drew for hours at her home in Mairena del Alcor, she had no idea how her life would change in 2014. While working at the Shoko nightclub in Madrid, where she had settled six years earlier to become an actress, a friend wanted to introduce her to Davide, the son of Carlo Ancelotti, but she did not show much interest. "I didn't know anything about football. I pictured him as a typical goofball. We started talking and two months later he went to Seville to surprise me. I told him I couldn't stay because I rarely go to Seville because I can't afford it, and when I do, it's with my family. If he wanted to see me, he had to come to my parents' house for dinner. And he came!” Ana explains. Their worlds were polar opposites. Ana's father, an electrician, worked at the Morón de la Frontera air base, and her mother "in factories, picking fruit, olives ...". Davide (Parma, 1989) was a footballer and was already a physical trainer working with his father at Real Madrid. “My father told me: Ana, Davide is from another world, we are people next door. He was afraid I was just a whim of him". But they continued their relationship. "Now my parents defend him more than I do when we fight!" she smiles. Galocha lives discreetly and gets nervous at the beginning of the interview. At the age of 21, she came to Madrid to study Interpretation. “I had a hard time making ends meet. I shared an apartment, worked as a flight attendant, waitress, reporter ... One day my mother came to me, opened the refrigerator and saw that it was empty. She didn't say anything to me, but she started crying again because I had nothing to eat. I was about to give up, but I kept going, and that's how life got me to where I am now." - she says. Today, she still lives in the capital with Davide and her twins, Leo and Lucas, and can do what she has loved most since she was a child: painting. “My photos inspire me. I try to have fun, I try colors, shapes, techniques... I'm self-taught. I graduated from art high school, but I didn't want to go to art because they made me paint with deadlines and what they wanted, which made me lose my love for what I liked the most.” Even though she hasn't exhibited her work yet and has sold a few paintings ("I'm a very bad seller"), she has a waiting list. "It's special when I paint my children, but the most significant drawing was a portrait of my grandfather, which I made in pencil, gave it to him, and he kept it at home until he died." During these eight years he accompanied Davide to Naples, Liverpool, Parma and Munich. “When he was without a team, we lived in my city and he has adapted phenomenally, he is very humble and more urban than me!” she laughs. “He is calm and I am very impulsive. He likes to be at home and I like to go out. He is very shy and I am not at all. But our secret is to trust and respect our spaces.” It's hard for her to remember the exact day of the proposal, which was in 2017. “It was the last day of our holiday in Formentera. We were going to dinner, Carlo (Ancelotti) called us and kept asking about dinner. He was his son's accomplice! We got to the restaurant and there was a flamenco group that I love and that Davide had hired. We had a bottle of wine and he asked me if we could order another. I was surprised because there were two of us. We ask for it and we invite musicians. And there he put a ring on me. I was empty and it took me a while to say yes." - she's joking. Twice they had to cancel the wedding due to the pandemic, and a week before the wedding, Ana showed off her impulsiveness. “I had a wedding dress ready for two years, but I got bored of it. I went to Barcelona alone. I tried one on a mannequin and three days before the wedding they shipped it to my house. Our wedding reception was a great surprise along with the celebration our friends organized for us.” Of course, their families were with them, who experienced this day intensively. "Carlo is a very calm and friendly man. We get along really well. At first it's hard for him to open up, but then ... he loves jokes. He speaks Spanish and Italian, and I don't understand most of them, but I burst out laughing. Besides, he likes flamenco and as a grandfather he is wonderful, although he works a lot and we don't see each other as often as we would like. We go to his house in the summer and he loves to cook pasta for the whole family. He is a great cook.” - says Ana about the coach of Real Madrid. Ana Galocha's future is not yet written. She has many dreams to fulfill. "I'm back in acting and doing a DJ course. I want to enjoy my paintings and I have no great ambitions in this respect.” As for the new movement, he has everything clear. “Davide is not going to China! He really wants to work in teams in Europe, but if he went to China, I would go with him."

[bunny-hoodlum]

☆ Share 3 fun facts about you, then pass this to three of your mutuals! ☆

Wow, I've been tagged four times! @alexis513, @littlemonstert-blog, @mrs-messy and @mysummerchoi, thanks for tagging me. :3

@mysummerchoi, I feel the exact same way. 😭 Plus, I'm not used to supplying info about myself when asked, haha. That stuff always evaporates from my head. ( . _ . )

I might have maybe almost died when I was three or four? Just kidding, but my mom thinks so. It was a day at a Californian beach, I was buried up to my neck in the sand for a picture and I guess they buried me too close to the water, so when a wave washed over me, they completely lost me in the sand, like either I sunk in deeper or sand washed over my head. My uncle just scooped me out like shwoop! lol. Without a picture, I won't know if it was a bad as they thought it was.

I can be clumsy and hurt myself and for whatever reason I never get scared or feel pain with this happens. Sometimes it feels predictable or like it's happening in slo-mo and I just go 'damn' before it happens. Like, at my old job working warehouse, I tripped on my ankle I think? And I just neatly fell forward like a feather, like I just knew not to resist or I'd hurt myself more. Try to imagine a lego man but with bendable knees. Now picture how you would use that lego man in a stop-motion film. It was like that. And it was so weird too that I thought it was funny. Sometimes when I derp and hurt myself it is actually pretty damn funny, but if it happens too often I get severely frustrated and devolve into a 5-year-old. Another time we got rear-ended twice near the offramp to Santa Barbara, and before the second impact, I just relaxed expecting it -- cuz you know, shitty drunk drivers survive because they literally can't tense up or do something worse like move to look behind them (you will hurt your neck doing that) -- But… But..! Try to get my attention when I can't see you, I freak the fuck out. This was probably more than one thing, but I think it's all related to each other lol.

Maybe this is too personal, but I always find psychology and whatnot very interesting, so from that perspective I'll share this bit of dumbassery: My attachment style has improved but is still pretty damn fucky. I just recently remembered how I had a crush on this boy in middle school (our middle school had 3 separate schools attached, so only time you could mingle with students from another jr high was after school clubs and we met in art club and bonded over FLCL), and I didn't know I liked him until the following year, but then I couldn't do anything about it because he was already dating someone else, a witty Korean-American girl (and I also had a complex about not being Asian enough). Time skip three years and he's finally a freshman, so I get to see him again. (We were same age but he had to start school late). I ask if he's still with her (because I still got some feels leftover) and he said she moved to Canada and had a girlfriend. And fuck if I know why cuz... I don't. My initial reaction wasn't 'Oh goody, I get to try again!'. No. I thought 'She's bi?! Why didn't she have a crush on me?!', like in that split second I wanted to be HER girlfriend instead of this other person. How dare this totally cooler than me girl that grabbed my crush find her own super cool girl to be with, like, first I'm not good enough for him, now I'm not good enough for her, I can't even begin to imagine how cool her Canadian GF must be, blah blah blah, she must be unsurpassably cool because she was chosen by someone also unfathomably cool and that's just how that shit works, blah blah blah-- sigh. The silent screams of my pathological need to be important, everyone. And that is why I will no longer do vent posts, because I feel super ashamed whenever I get validated for my bullshit. ; u ;

Haaa, alright, pick three mutuals. Hm. Feels like everyone got tagged tbh... @peppercornpress @char-lotteral aaaand @spaciousignatius 💖