#i think a part of me died tonight. not least cuz of what happened but this. this killed me.

[blueiight]

back to wiaw…keeping them home fires burning readthru.

hilde’s graduation<333 i feel like a proud dad omg she was just 7 years old yesterday😢😢😢

Martin and Kircheis, neither of whom had any estates to speak of, remained silent, Kircheis with his placid smile, and Martin looking uncomfortably at Hilde. miss martin shaking up the table.. yang’s current situation im still reeling from how sotp ended. was not in the right frame of mind to fully process & still wont be until hes in the mix once more. hilde saying ‘HANK’ is Good with a capital G. like. u dont even know his name pop!.. hilde would be the perfect lawyer fuck this stone age empire. poor kircheis out of his body here 🤣🤣😢

good friends winkwink. yang noooo😢😢u not leeching off the mariendorfs they love u theyre literally the only good family on this side of the galaxy.

“I think we have more respectability put together than either of us have apart.” hes willing to rep reuenthal at grandpa’s funeral AND be maggie’s mutual beard.. one lazy man, roped into so much shit. its funny cuz in sotp it was maggie who was the high life baroness ‘marrying down’ but now with her 'fall' from grace itll be viewed as yang dragging her ‘back up’ into respectable society .. oh how the wheel keeps turning. or wdf this work is titled

Yang nodded solemnly. “The thing about mothers, young sir, is that everyone has one, whether she’s around or not.” stunning wisdom from our friend ‘HANK’

wiaw fred actually seems more like a haggard worn down slightly paranoid emperor than his enigmatic show counterpart. liking it. sad for yang, but dont worry my dear ‘HANK’ , at least one old man loves you (franz giving him the ring was so heartfelt). and having the emperor now dislike u should be an homage to ur waning proletarian spirit anyways

THE DREAM… ohmygod. something about how dreams neurologically work in that the mind goes into strange places but also knowing this is a fictional narrative so this means a lot. the cars running backwards. please visit my father, yang entering the door alone. wow. yeah. family. marriage. possible political problems. somethings going on here.

SIT flashbacks oh when it was all so much easier😢😢😢even if he was being a CUNT there

poppa r.. when is he ever not drunk. wait. grandpa being only 12 years older than the father.. that man said oskar’s mingling with the foreigners and the queers bc hes barely a noble (aka a ‘ bastard ‘ ) oh this family trifling & dubious AF. i love that his whole family situation is so enigmatic & haunts the narrative bc thats how it rly be in these fucked up family situations.

“He looks just like his mother, you know.” When Yang said nothing in response, Reuenthal’s father continued. “She was proud, too. I wanted her to ask me for forgiveness, but she never did, and then she killed herself rather than apologize.”

“What, exactly, were you waiting for her to apologize for?” Yang hated him.

“You know what.”

It was a testament to the brilliance of Reuenthal’s pride, that he would never apologize for existing, despite how much his father wanted him to. Yang loved him for it.

“I hope you realize someday, Herr von Reuenthal, that your wife and son never apologized to you because they had nothing to apologize for.”

“You don’t know anything,” Reuenthal’s father hissed, and Yang remembered, vividly, the same tone, the same voice, spitting at him from across the booth at Joseph’s bar, a lifetime ago. It was the same unbridled malice, when a Reuenthal was confronted with this truth, the one that they didn’t want to face because facing it would hurt too much. Only this time, it wasn’t Reuenthal-Yang’s-friend— it wasn’t Oskar— it was this living ghost.

“I know Oskar,” Yang said. “And that’s enough.”

Everything about this passage is so…my chest hurts. wiaw yang is so so sweet and loving of wiaw reuenthal in a way thats believable. its like how hes always in the mix of some bullshit in the gaidens+ canonverse wise and he doesnt wanna be there but hes there for his own interest in the topic and/or love for the person involved. and omg For Pride!!!! lotgh ep93 namedrop. it is all In the Name Of pride. but that pride is fundamentally rooted in spite which is a trainwreck we all just waiting for it to happen. this is relatable. the ova canon physical resemblance to his mother, the wiaw canon dispositional resemblance to his father in his (vilest) moments… amazing.

CH2 MITTREUEMITT on ISERLOHN together. i never mentioned it b4 but their flagships being named after 2 halves of the same city omg this is even more egregious than canonverse Brunhilde & Tristan somehow. its giving what needs to be gave

Reuenthal tapped his chin. “Stuck is an interesting word for it.”

Mittermeyer raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous talk.”

everytime someone in wiaw says 'dangerous' talk i smile like a hideous creature. wait. wait. theyre at iserlohn. and yang’s promise to braunschweig involved iserlohn. ohmygod and they dont even know💔💔

Seeing Reuenthal regularly did something indescribable and potent to his mind, made him feel like a student again, with all thoughts of home distant and unpleasantly vague, and Reuenthal right there, so physical in front of him.

u make me feel like i am young again… omg💔💔💔💔💔

Reuenthal’s hand tangled in Mittermeyer’s hair, almost pulling on it, and Mittermeyer nipped at Reuenthal’s lips in exchange, causing him to make a soft, needy noise, his other hand digging into Mittermeyer’s uniform.

Mittermeyer pulled him back towards the bedroom, and Reuenthal easily followed. They didn’t bother turning on the light, but light spilled in from the living room, plenty to see by, and Mittermeyer gave one glance at his bedside table, confirming that he had remembered to put away in the bottom drawer the photograph of Eva that usually had a place of honor there. It was as much for his sake as it was for Reuenthal’s.

. the mittreuemitt dynamic i sold my soul for at the cost of everything else (the actual rammifications. da rammys, brah.) id pay 6 billion dollars & comm all the rly lovey dovey scenes as RARE AS THEY ARE it just makes it better when we get it (& hurt more laterz.) im still at the reuenthal knight of kapche-lanka scene. but honestly mittermeyer knowing its some fuckshit impending when reuenthal’s voice is ‘light’ ohmygod i love it pillowtalking reassignments+ their ever present disdain for obes … n the association of home with heterosexual love and guilt! ohmygod..

i am amazed. im not a multi shipper like that bc i feel multi ships tend to have a preferred chara + snub others at best i prefer discrete pairings (having multiple ships but theyre discrete relationships at different stages of a character’s lives) but the writing of these relationships moves me.. like i believe they all love eachother in their own ways and thats what makes it hurt even more.

“You want to drive?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “I want to kiss you.”

mitt is the only one of the 479 mafia who learned how to spit game so thats why he has two— not even gone say it.

does wolfgang mittermeyer eat pussy, thread locked after firey debate

YANG😢😢😢that old heffa been workin him to death smh. and omg he rly cant drive.. my boy is useless below da neck frl

“If I was being mistreated at work, wouldn’t you want to know? Even if there was nothing you could do about it but worry?” she asked, cutting to the core of the problem with her hands tight on the wheel. “I love you, Wolf, and I don’t want to be lied to to spare my feelings.”

BABY GRL UON EVEN WANNA KNO THE SHIT YO MAN BEEN UP TO… ohmygod.

Dinner was a pleasant and cheerful affair, but Yang kept yawning, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look almost pitiful, so Mittermeyer’s mother had tucked him up in the guest bedroom immediately after dinner. omg hes so adorable i feel bad for him too FUCK BRAUNSCHWEIG

“Some of them.” He paused, then added, “More of them bring their mistresses.” and you get to work with yours!

The convo w his mom is scaring me .. after sotp we are getting into totally original content not to say nat hasnt been incredibly creative but ygwim here my knowledge of lotgh canon will not carry me thru these next parts like they did b4 and ik canon mitt was the immortal gale wolf but that convo gave so many death flags oh my lawd

DID EVA MISCARRY DURING THE STRESS OF THE FLEGEL SHIT OHMYGOD? My heart legit hurts 😢😢😢😢💔💔💔 WHY IS THIS SO SAD FOR ME???

“I know.” Mittermeyer looked away. “What did they think you were going to do?”

“Oh, I think they thought that you and I had something going on.”

they may have been wrong at the time but ngl i need there to be sum that go down between the two of yall. i have never begged for poly like this before in my 95 years of existence. reuyang still need they top, gurl LIKE u know his real name😢 u mess w the same girl its meant to be.

“No,” Yang said. “A friend of mine— Boris Konev— he made it up as a joke. It just sounds almost like ‘Yang Wen-li’ when you say it fast.” He shook his head. “That was a million years ago, now.”

I FUCKING KNEW IT KONEV UR SUCH A TROLL⚰️⚰️⚰️ Ugh yang hits different bc hes such an honest sort of sentiment i cant describe it hes not just kind hes truly genial& theres just this sense of weariness in wiaw so early here that he doesnt exhibit until the near end of his life in lotgh canon and it makes me so sad.

Yang shook his head. “I have no idea.” The melancholy in his voice was almost painful for Mittermeyer to listen to. He crouched down next to Yang, and handed him back the box with the engagement ring. Yang turned it over in his hands. “I have no idea what he’d think of me now.”

“You don’t think he’d be proud of you?”

Yang rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t even think he’d recognize me.”😢😢😢😢😢😢

chapter 3’s title. Oskar von Reuenthal Was Born Innocent. We gettin into it Na Chile

THAT OLD BITCH DIED WE SMOKING ON THAT PETER PACK…

The thing that made him clench his hands into white knuckled fists was the second part of the message, which said that Reuenthal had inherited everything that there was to inherit.

He didn’t want it. Not the money that was listed there in the message, not the investments that his father had made, not the house, not the land it sat on. He didn’t want any of it, and he had thought— by virtue of his father striking him from the family record almost a decade ago— that he would be free of it. He hadn’t given much thought to what would become of the property if his father failed to assign an heir (though the mental image of it crumbling into dust sometimes flashed through his head, when he remembered it,) and he had taken as much pride as he could in making his way in the world without any hope of an inheritance to fall back on.

As with every other thing his parents had given to him, it was his burden to bear, and he would bear it.

This is so powerful. and evocative. this is also the worst time for him to receive the sort of news about yang& maggie. this is perfect.

He didn’t even know if that was what he truly wanted— he knew he shouldn’t want it— but there was this sensation of pressure behind his eyes, an impulse that said the only way to free himself was to crash into something with great force, full body: a train, his face into a wall, a fist. It didn’t matter what. His body hungered for the pressure, a release valve for whatever thought he couldn’t put a name to.

like… i dont even have words i just love this. he drank instead. but he drank.

im fighting the urge to post every single paragraph of reuenthal in his father’s mansion. but im gnawing at it. just know. and in this. i remember reuenthal is the only living person who calls yang by his first name. and only in select moments. im...

“Come to my place.”

“No.”

“I’d like to see you,” Yang said.

Reuenthal took a long moment to weigh Yang’s tone. If he was offering out of pity, Reuenthal had no interest in seeing him. But if it was a genuine want on Yang’s part…

“Come here, then,” Reuenthal finally said.

“Okay,” Yang said. “I will.”

im horrified at seeing my pathology reflected here but poor yang can barely drive! and mind u its snowing ! ohmygod. OH wait we getting good fucking use of that tag i knew of it from em’s beautiful drawing but the Context makes it so much more meaty.

But Reuenthal didn’t need to keep his mother’s dresses as a reminder of anything. He had better ones. WAIT WHAT. AND WE WILL NEVER GET TO KNOW CUZ YANG IS HERE. AND.

He looked at Yang for a long moment more, the dream frozen. But then Yang stepped forward into the room, crossing the threshold, and the dream fell away, and it was just them once again, Yang coming towards him as he sat on his childhood bed. THE DREAM IS ACTUALLY SHARED AND ITS REUENTHAL’S NIGHTMARE?. WHAT IS IT WITH THESE FUCKING DOORS.

A housewarming party. im sure thisll go well/sarcasm

“Okay, then invite Evangeline too.”

“She won’t come anywhere near me unless Baroness Westpfale is also in attendance.” WHY U SO MEAN TO HER . I KNOW WHY. AND I WILL KILL U WITH ROCKS

Personally, Reuenthal didn’t feel like there was that much tension— Magdalena seemed perfectly willing to give better than she got— but Yang had been tugging at his hair watching their back and forth.

Tears ran down my face from how much i laughed at this. stop ittt ur hurting her (yang seeing two ppl he cares about go blow for blow). this is why i love wiaw cuz ppl love to force cringe ~sappho~ ~mulm~ soldiarity bullshit but maggie being brash and reuenthal being a sexist is so essential. im sure theyll get along even worse (/positively said. i love terrible things.) when he gets the tea abt maggie n yang </3. how can i speedrun to the elfriede reuenthal floor shit that i heard about

blue flowers in a gold and black beer mug. like . get it the fuck together girl.

MITTERMEYER. I SEE WHY THEY CALL YO ASS THE GALE WOLF. CUZ U MOVE FAST. this is the mittermeyer i love. i love how yang is so easy w/ reuenthal like easy kisses fade to black scenes do u want me to come by? in the snow? & i cant drive? while mittermeyer just jumps him hands on his hips while his ole lady upstairs. teeth clacking in the kiss. insane. insane. the 479 trio gets down hanny

reuenthal @ eva

“Oh, I don’t think that Hank has either the ability or the desire to dictate what I do.”

“Then you would make a poor wife,” Reuenthal said flatly. “And I would not wish you on him.”

There was a moment of awkward silence around the table, then Magdalena laughed, very loudly. “Oh, gods, Oskar, you are hilarious. I hope you come to our wedding and stand up and loudly object when they ask if anyone has a problem with us.”

THE WAY MAGGIE IS THE ONE WHO LAUNCHES THE WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENT IN SUUUUUCH A WAY. OMG.

this is the one of the only fanfic to ever exist. “Being married to Mittermeyer might be nice.” like. im cackling. this is one of the worst days in his life

OH. OH AND NOW. WE ALMOST SUCKIN DICK IN WINECELLARS NOW. WOW.

“I’ll let you know.” He would not let her know.

If Magdalena wanted the tour, he would give her the tour.

FUNNIEST thing ever. the trauma congaline is even funnier. ohmygod. pop dont ever get help💜💯DID YOU WANT ANY LEFTOVERS. THERES PLENTY OF CAKE. IM IN TEARS. hes so demented

Yang muttered. He finished his drink in what looked like one gulp, then leaned further on Reuenthal until his head settled, catlike, in Reuenthal’s lap. “I still do feel bad, though.” Yang’s eyes were closed, and Reuenthal stroked his hair. Magdalena watched, sipping her own drink, and Reuenthal silently dared her to say anything.

theyre so cute ohmygod. yang is so cute.. little kitty . im going to cut my fingers off and eat them. this is my most disorganized wiaw read (as if any of this shit was ever put together) im so gone rn. magdalena faking like shed throw the glass.

“I want to try this on,” she said, holding up Yang’s uniform, which he hadn’t noticed her carrying out of the bedroom in the dark.

ANOTHER USE OF THAT ILLUSTRIOUS TAG OMG she literally says in gaiden she would love to wear a uniform. oh my god this story is perfect

“Come on,” Magdalena said. “Call me sir. Just once.”

“Yes, sir,” Reuenthal said. It alarmed him how easy it was to indulge her.

Guys is this.

is this what.

“I don’t think this even belongs to him. I think you’re trying to trick me, for some joke.” He pulled the ring off his finger. He held it up to the light, then moved to toss it into the fire. She let out a yelp of surprise and grabbed his hand before he could let go of it, gripping tight with wide eyes and fingernails that dug into his skin. It was the first genuine reaction he thought he had ever gotten out of her, and he was smugly satisfied by it.

U wont be able to come back down 3-1 …

This simulacrum was close enough to be disturbing and fascinating, in a way that he couldn’t refuse outright.

OH WE SHOLL IS GOING THERE OHMYGOD. maggie wearing hank’s clothes in this simulacrum. her desire to take on these roles. ‘Hank’. he never got a chance to kiss ‘Hank’. theres this thing u did here w how reuenthal randomly has these moments of being in his head in the ova& getting caught up in his own illusions / head (“but im not a poet im just a vulgar warrior!” girl u was just waxing poetics about history wanting its blood n spacing out at the commander’s chair thinking about the police taking pics of ur mom’s death.) at times that. in wiaw its handled in such a tantalizing way is just. so so. wow. some ppl may find it tangential or slightly ooc but ur working magic out of scraps here n ppl dont see it. ppl dont see it. and it hurts my soul

And the morning after. i feel like something was fucked here thatll never go back the same. this and sotp is like. a complete fuckening. if thats even a word mane. omg. i done died

[cryptidghostgirl]

Hey hey! i have a third angsty silly idea teehee (yes same person who requested the one where wife reader gets teleported to the hotel and the one with the fake dating trope-)

Im at it again with my silly ideas i can’t quite get out of my head- so picture this RIGHT before the begging of the second fic (loved it btw if i could id kiss you on the mouth)

(this interaction is important) Reader is eyeing Alastor to subconsciously make him talk to her, he does of course it goes a bit like “Alastor dear, havent seen you before?” "Just moved in, thought of making some acquaintances” and they talk, reader tells him “a charmer too? should be careful around you not to break my heart” or smth smilar idk i suck at dialogue

And then the partnership happens and theyve been at it for a while (like at least 5 years id say)- until Readers twin brother dies in a planned house fire and she goes out for revenge, before that they have a fight like “youre going to be out numbered” “its suicide” blah blah blah- and eventually reader goes out alone

She does manage to to kill the criminals but because of the cold January weather and the exhaustion of it all- reader gets hypothermia and in the frenzy thats caused by it stumbles and falls into a fence spike of an abandoned farmhouse, gets impaled right below the ribs teehee, Alastor eventually finding her and goes out to bury her properly.

readers death happens in 1925 -8 years before alastor which gibes her enough time to take over half the pentagram with her blizzard/ice powers (cuz i think theyre. cool ;)) and is also important reader has a long tail with fluff (which can turn into a heart shaped fur or have happy/angry twitches) at the end because i think its cute and because her demon form has one so it matches (think the faceless room guardians by anyaboz on IG but fully white- with a void face from which emerges a dog skull at will). the normal form being overall relatively normal aside from the long ears and black limbs that symbolize the hypothermia part of the death (Yes this is an Oc but im making it a bit more generic for everyone :>)

When alastor does die in 1933 (when he got shot visiting readers grave) he hears of this blizzard overlord and goes a bit into her territory and into a bar where he sees a somewhat familiar person teehee and they have the same first conversation over again but in hell :D and then get reunited but possibly pull out their signature weapons on each other again for old times sake 😇

also i love you so much for taking the time to write my dreams it does mean quite a lot to me and if you want i can give more ideas because i have a lot more- 😇 (im tottaly not insane and or delusional i swear-)

A/N of course?? I’m obsessed with your requests. they’re always so fun. Also as a heads up, I decided not to do this as a part to for cover up because I got an earlier request asking to do a part two for that and I try to address requests in the order I receive them. I also made some other minor changes just to make it work a little smoother. Also, please keep sending in requests, yours are always so fun.

Frostbite (Alastor X Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Murder, death, gore, arson, a little bit of angst.

Word Count: 3,949

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor sat at the bar of Mimzy's club drinking like he did every friday night. Normally the whirling dancers and loud music merely served to give him a headache, normally he ignored them and all the fans who somehow recognized him from the radio. Tonight was far from normal, tonight there was someone new.

Spinning on the dance floor, the fringe of her blood red dress spinning out from her legs. The woman was all smiles, all laughter, and she seemed never to turn down a partner. He watched her, entranced.

The woman wasn't a talented dancer, far from it in fact, but what she lacked in skill she made up for in enthusiasm and enjoyment. He had no intentions of doing anything other than watching her enchanting display until he made eye contact with her across the club. She blushed, turning away and quickly engaging a friend in conversation.

It was all the encouragement Alastor needed. In the dim light of the speakeasy, Alastor smiled to himself. He downed the rest of his drink and got to his feet. The crowed of dancers parted to make way for him like the red sea, waves of whispers following his path. He could hear the chatter, knew the rumors that he was a man uninterested in women, uninterested in love or romantic involvements of any type He knew that that was what everyone was speaking of as he approached the first new face the tired old place had seen in ages.

Coming to a stop behind the woman, her friend saw him first. It made sense, her back was turned to him after all, a result of her embarrassment at having been caught staring. He friend tapped her shoulder, indicating for the woman to turn around, and she spun. Alastor could feel the hem of her dress as it brushed against his leg through the fabric of his pants. His smile grew.

"Haven't seen you around here before Darling," he hummed, "new in town?"

"Just moved in, actually." the woman bashfully replied, clasping her hands behind her back and crossing one foot in front of the other.

The position it threw her body into sent Alastor's mind reeling. He hadn't expected that. Sure, she was pretty and different, new, but Alastor didn't feel things like that. At least, not normally.

"Well, I'd love to give you a tour sometime. The name is Alastor, Alastor Hartifelt."

This was the test: his name. How would she react? Was she just another one of his simpering fans, begging for his favor, for his attention, or would she do something interesting?

He held out a hand which she daintily rested her own in, a smile spreading across her face.

"Y/n L/n. I'm free tomorrow morning?"

Alastor was lucky, Saturday mornings were one of the few he had free. Gently, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand. Y/n felt her heart flutter inside her chest.

"Ah, a charmer." she hummed as Alastor raised his head again and she took her hand from his, "I'll have to be careful around you."

Everything had snowballed from there. The tour around the city had spiraled into dinner which had further fallen into an attempt by Alastor to take her life. He had been curious, how it would feel when the life drained from her body at the force of his hands. Instead, she had met his advances by holding her own knife to his throat.

It became a game of sorts for the two, always trying to outwit one another, one up each other, land the other six feet under. The game ended when Alastor was chasing Y/n through the woods and she had stumbled, falling to the ground. He had grinned maniacally as he had advanced on her, as she had scrambled on the ground away from him. Knife raised, her back against a tree, she had breathlessly asked him out on a date. How could he say no? Especially when he looked up and saw that she had planned this all along. There was no other way their initials could be carved into the surface of the very thing that had stopped her escape. It was perfect, she was perfect.

Five years of bliss. Five years of feathery kisses and passion. Five years of waking up to her smiling face, of washing the blood off each other's hands, of nearly wedded bliss. Then there had been the fire.

Y/n had a twin brother, a brute of a thing who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Despite his flaws, Y/n loved him. This time, on a January morning in 1925, he had pissed off the wrong person and gotten himself killed. Y/n was inconsolable, spent every waking moment tracking the killer. It didn't take her long to get a lead.

She was halfway out the door when Alastor found her, shoving knives into her pockets and grabbing a gun. There was a wild, unfocused look in her eyes. Alastor turned his gaze momentarily to the setting sun as it sent rays of liquid golden light bouncing off the snow.

"Darling, what are you doing?"

"Going out." she gruffly replied, adjusting the laces on one of her shoes.

Alastor sighed. Y/n had mentioned to him just the day before that she had an idea of who was behind the murder and it wasn't pretty. The most controversial and strongest gang in the city had, according to her research, wielded the flames. Alastor took a step forward, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder and she turned to him. Her eyes were hard and narrow, her face contorted by rage.

"Y/n, please." Alastor began, treading carefully, "Not tonight. It's awful out, and you just confirmed everything today."

"No." Y/n shook her head, "No, I can't wait to do this any longer, Al. It has already been nearly a month, I can't..."

She looked away, raising a fist to her heart, her shoulders hunching slightly.

"I can't."

"And I can't loose you." Alastor quickly replied, using his free hand to turn her face back to his.

"So come with me."

He hesitated. Y/n saw the look on his face, the doubt. She shook herself from his grip, turning back to the door.

"Alright. I'll go alone."

"Y/n," Alastor pleaded, taking another step towards her as she grabbed her coat off the hook on the wall, "it is too dangerous. I can't let you do this."

"Let me do this?" Y/n spun around, her coat in her hand and flames licking at the corners of her voice, "You can't let me do this?"

Alastor took a breath, trying desperately to keep his own anger at bay.

"There are too many of them." he tried to reason with her, "You can't do it on your own."

"So come with me!"

"I..."

Y/n scoffed, sliding her jacket onto her arms. Turning back to the door once again, she unlocked it. Her hand rested on the knob, she took a breath. Their eyes met over her shoulder.

"I'll be home later."

She swung the door open and stepped out into the night. Alastor trailed after her, the snow sinking into his socks. It was cold, a terrible night.

"Y/n, you'll die!"

"Do you truly have that little faith in me!?" she spun around, her rage radiating off of her, devouring everything in sight.

Alastor had never seen her like this before. He halted in his tracks.

"Please, I can't..." he took a deep breath, emotions had always been a struggle, "I can't loose you too."

"But I'm supposed to loose my brother and know who did it and do nothing?!" she screamed back at him.

"You will die!"

Y/n turned her back on him once again. She unlatched the gate to the garden and slipped through it, letting it fall shut behind her.

"So be it."

"Y/n!"

Alastor tried to run after her but, it was simply too cold. His limbs were numb, he stumbled.

"Y/n!" he yelled again but, she didn't turn around.

He could see her, in that red dress. She looked like she did the first time he had ever met her as she disappeared into the night. He knew it was his mind playing tricks on him, it felt like an omen.

Alastor stood in the cold for a few minutes longer before resigning himself to the truth of it all: Y/n was going to do what she was going to do. He just had to hope she would come back, that the damage he had done in refusing to back her up like that wouldn't be enough to have driven her away. That she was strong enough to make it out alive.

The fireplace crackled invitingly. No matter how warm and cheerful it made the room, Alastor couldn't stop the dread. He sat down on the couch before it, painfully aware of the empty spot beside him. He tried to read.

The hours ticked by, seconds dragging on for eternity. Still, Y/n was not yet home. Alastor couldn't focus on anything. He couldn't 't read, couldn't sleep, could barely sit still. He paced circles around the room as the sun rose, he called in sick to work, intent on being there should she return.

When it reached four pm, when it had been nearly twenty full hours since she had left, he decided to go out and look for her. Y/n had always been messy, always bad at putting things away. While normally it had irritated him to no end, he now found himself grateful. He swore to whatever gods were listening that if she was alright, he would never bother her about it again because right there on top of her desk were all her plans, including the exact location of the gang's hideout, the exact place she had disappeared to.

The sight that met Alastor when he reached the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city was one he would never forget. Blood stained the snow red and there were bodies everywhere, both outside and within. It was clearly, Y/n's handiwork and he couldn't help but feel a tad impressed, he had underestimated her yet again. His slight smile, a result of the realization, fell as he spotted the footprints leading out of the backdoor.

He had tracked Y/n enough times to know they were hers, they couldn't be anyone else's. A trail of blood accompanied them, one foot dragging more than the other. Alastor tried to keep his head clear, his mind cool. He gave chase.

The back yard to the warehouse was large, gave the impression of going right off into the woods. Alastor soon realized that was not the case as the rusted, wrought iron fence came in to view. Y/n wouldn't have been able to see it. Judging by the way the tracks were iced over, it had been a long time since she had walked this path. In the dead of night, surrounded by trees, the fence would have come as a surprise.

As he got closer, the lump that he had assumed was a fallen branch came into more detail. Alastor's heart stopped, he rushed to her.

If only he hadn't waited, if only the minute he had felt she'd been gone too long he had gone after her. He might have been able to save her, to stop her from this cruel fate.

What had happened was obvious. The fence was iced over, slippery to the touch. Y/n had evidently tried to climb over it and lost her grip, the force of her fall being enough to ram the sharpened edge of one of the fence's defensive points right through her temple. Wrong place, wrong time.

Alastor had never cried like that before, as he sat in the snow at her feet, her body stiff from the cold. Not even when his mother had died could he ever remember feeling such a grief. It ate away at him, pooling in the center of his chest and spreading out. She had been so integral to who he was, so much a part of his life and way of being. She had been his dream, his end goal. Alastor remembered the ring, sitting heavy in the drawer of his night table. His tears redoubled.

By the time he managed to calm himself, the early winter sun had long since sunk to its bed and been replaced by the moon. Moving completely on autopilot, not considering his actions, Alastor wrenched her body from the fence. Y/n deserved a proper burial, in a place that mattered. He made her final resting place at the base of the very same tree she had told him she loved him while sitting at. His fingers traced their carved initials, grown hard with the years. There was nothing to be done.

The guilt ate away at him, festered over the years. If only he had stopped her, had gone with her, had come to her rescue. If only he had told her that he loved her one last time.

When Y/n awoke in Hell, to say she was surprised would be an understatement. She had never been one to believe in the afterlife in any sort of way, let alone such a wonderful one with so many opportunities for mayhem.

The thing that had been the toughest to get used to was her new form. All the demons in Hell got them upon arrival and when she caught that first glimpse of herself in the glass of a shop window, she understood why everyone on the streets seemed to be eyeing her fearfully.

She looked like she was rotting, her fingertips and toes black from the cold she had lost herself in. It trailed up her limbs, mingling with her own natural skin color. Her hair, her eye lashes, her eyebrows even, looked perpetually frosted with snow, little particles of ice hanging delicately in them. Then there were the horns and the tail, those were by far the strangest. The horns were pure white and curving like a mountain goats, the tail was thin with a little heart shaped ball of fluff at the end. It wasn't until another demon attempted to attack her that she realized the full extent of the changes that had taken place.

Y/n had just tried to punch the man, that was all. He had made advances, she had said no. He had tried again and she had told him she was married. It wasn't entirely a lie, they had been planning on it after all. Still, the man refused to listen and so, she had resorted to brute strength. When she had pulled her fist away, it was to find the man encased in ice. That was when the anger had set in.

Y/n didn't blame Alastor, not really. She was mad at him but, in the end, he had been right. She had died. It was all so brutally unfair. The way they had left things, that final fight, weighed on her soul. She wondered if he even knew she was dead, if he just assumed she had up and left him. The guilt, the what if's of it all, were crushing.

The stronger Y/n's emotions, the more uncontrollable her power. She still attacked people for fun but, taking over half of Pentagram City with her storms had honestly been an accident. In retrospect, she would call it a happy one.

Y/n liked being respected, being feared. She liked the near worship with which the smaller, weaker demons began to treat her. She settled into her new life with surprising ease and soon, every demon and hellborn in the place knew her name: Frost.

Y/n would've liked something different, preferred something cooler but, when the people give someone a name, its hard to change it and so, she embraced the title. Stone cold, cruel, powerful and appearing at what others perceived as totally inopportune moments. She locked herself, her heart, away. She swore never to make the same mistakes again.

Alastor visited Y/n's grave at least once every year. Always on the anniversary of her death, sometimes more frequently. That was where he too had met his death. As he had stooped low to place the bouquet of flowers he had brought on the surface of the hard-packed earth, the hunter had shot him, thinking he was a deer.

His arrival in Hell had been uneventful and not all together shocking. Alastor had been raised in a Christian household and although he never truly had faith in the matter once he had been old enough to form his own opinions, he had still always assumed that if there was life after death he was going to end up in Hell. He also knew that if he had ended up down here, Y/n had too.

The search was all consuming and fruitless. Every demon he interrogated, every one he thought had the slightest spark of his love within them, never had a single clue what he was talking about. Half the city was a snow storm and before long, that half was the only part he hadn't searched. Allegedly it was the territory of some new overlord known only as Frost who had taken Hell by storm - literally - just a few years before. Alastor already had a distaste in his mouth for the overlords, a sort of hatred spawned from something close to envy. He figured that worst case scenario, he could just add this Frost character to the list over overlords he had already taken out in the year since his arrival.

The chill of the air as he stepped over the border was a cruel reminder of the truth of his life. Alastor welcomed the cold with open arms, wondered if Y/n had already been killed since arriving in Hell. He had heard of the exterminations, it wasn't too wild of an idea. The thought gnawed on his mind like a parasite, intent on seeing him dead. Alastor progressed.

The fact that in death he still felt such things as hunger had been a mystery to him. There was something poetic about it, something forlorn in the idea that hunger and touch were the only things that followed a person to their grave. He stepped into the restaurant, his stomach growling, and walked up to the bar.

"Do you have beignets?"

Alastor knew the answer before the barkeep even shook his head. He sighed, falling on to one of the stools.

"Sausage and grits."

"Coming right up."

Alastor tapped his fingers on the counter, watching the world around him. Hope was running thin, anxieties and hurt taking over. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, how much more disappointment he could take.

"Haven't seen you around before, Darling," a voice purred from behind him, sending shockwaves of pain through his chest, "new in town?"

He summoned his microphone into his hand, ready to fight. It didn't matter that the demon most likely had no idea the effect of their words, the connections they had to his own past life. All that mattered was that he felt like he was being mocked, the world was parroting his life back to him because Y/n was out of his reach and probably would be forever more. He turned to face the person, a sickening grin spread tight across his face.

The demon had a clearing around her, the crowd avoiding her at all costs and whispering to one another behind the cover of their hands. Her tail flicked back and forth, ice emanating from the place her feet hit the floor.

There was something oddly familiar about her, the cocky smirk, the confidence. Alastor got to his feet. He leered over her and the woman didn't flinch one bit.

"Who's asking?"

A threat. The smile on the smaller demon's face grew, snow beginning to pile up on the floor in the corners of the room.

"You know, it's really far too cruel of you to go around with a voice like that." she hummed thoughtfully, a finger to her chin, "Gets a girl's hopes up just to shatter 'em on the floor."

Alastor could feel it now, the cold nipping at his extremities. Wind picked up in the indoor space and demons began rushing out through the door as quickly as they could. Alastor stood his ground.

"Ah, so you're the one responsible for this little snow town?"

"Why yes, I am."

"You're rather cruel yourself, you know." he mused, "Using my own words against me, how did you know? Do you overlords have some way to read a person's mind? Find the center of their desire and turn it to a weapon?"

Only now did the woman's expression change. Her calm facade morphed into confusion as the winds died down.

"What do you mean?"

"'Haven't seen you around here before, Darling, new in town?'" Alastor scoffed.

Y/n's eyes widened with a sudden recognition. It only fueled Alastor's anger as he took a step forward, shadows rising from the ground at his feet.

"I-"

"Just moved in, actually." the demon cut him off, holding a hand out for him to take, palm to the floor.

Alastor looked at her, disgust etched into his features.

"How could you..." he trailed off.

Eyes flicking over her form, Alastor examined the demoness carefully. Sure, she was different. She looked half dead, frost bitten to the extreme but, there was certainly something familar.

"Who are..."

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Slowly, he took her hand in his. It was icy to the touch, sent shivers down his spine. With a practiced grace, he leaned down and planted a feathery kiss on the back of her hand.

"Ah, a charmer." Y/n smiled as he raised his head to hers again, "I'll have to be careful around you."

"Y/n."

It wasn't a question, he knew the answer. Alastor could feel it in his bones.

"Alastor."

She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Alastor watched her movements in astonishment. Disbelief laid thick on his body, too heavy to allow him to move.

"I'm so sorry." she whispered into his ear, her breath a cold breeze.

"I... why are you sorry?" he asked, pulling her away from him.

Alastor placed his hands on her shoulders, brushing off a bit of snow that had landed there with utmost care.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I should have come with you, I shouldn't have said the things I said, I sh-"

"I love you."

She couldn't hold the words in anymore. Icicles of tears tinkled like glass as they fell from her cheeks and landed on the floor.

"I... I love you, Alastor. I can't... I always regretted... I..."

"Me too."

He pulled her back into his arms, this time holding her body tightly to his. The cold burned but he didn't care. The whistling of the wind outside seemed to quiet.

"I love you so much, Y/n. I am so sorry."

"I'm so sorry."

Y/n pulled back, cupping Alastor's face in her hands.

"Never again."

"Never what, my love."

"Never again will I be parted from you."

"I thought I'd never see you again." Alastor admitted, "I was beginning to lose hope."

"Me too, me too."

"Never again."

"Never again."

----

Next Part -> Day Lilies (Alastor x Blizzard demon!Reader x Angel!OC)

A/N I am such a little slut for a good reunion scene.

[borkadonk]

fuck it, infodumping another unnecessarily edgy au

this one’s older and bread focused, i had art for it but i forgor lmao i’ll see if i can find em

red room/snuff film production au ft. evon tost n brodn, a pretty rare trio i know once again im just making content that specifically caters to myself leave me alone - it was brodins idea, this is basically just an evil brodin au but cranked into overdrive - brodin somehow manipulated yvonne to cooperate, either through bribery or blackmail, cuz snuff films gets more traction when the executers are girls, even better cuz she used a schoolgirl gimmick - they kidnap and film at very degen hours - idk if this takes place in the old otv house or what but yvonne toast and brodin are roommates - toast was awake at those hours once and heard a commotion in the basement, specifically a muffled screaming and sudden silence - toast went to the basement thinking they were having a movie night or sumin, nope - brodins reflexes is fast as fuck he conked toast out with his camera before he could even say anything - yvonne went oh god oh fuck what do we do, brodin just went guess we filming twice tonight - turns out toast went out like a light and he woke up at daytime which of course they cant film, so they just left him tied up in the basement while explaining to him what he saw and what they've been doing cuz they thought he at least deserved to know as a friend before he dies - while waiting for night time toast asked for shit like contacting his family at least n whatnot, they denied it all of course and just let him write a will instead - night falls its filming time, yvonne dismembered toast with a chainsaw, more eagerly than she usually is lmao - after its done they stuffed his parts in a bag and while they were dragging it to the car to drive to the incinerator, they heard it scream - toast was still alive, very much in pain but conscious, all 3 of em were confused how lmao - yvonne thought she didn't finished the job but right before she stabbed his head, brodin stopped her - he remembered that regeneratives exist and thought toast might be one - they brought him back to the house and tried to put him back together, all his limbs stuck back to normal within a few minutes - they were all disbelieved for a moment, then brodin remembered they still had to decide what to do with toast now that he knows about their shady project, they cant just let him go and snitch - toast, not wanting to be incinerated, offered to be a reoccurring victim for their films - yvonne hesitated cuz she thought ppl wont wanna watch the same person die over and over again, but brodin denied by saying that snuff films of regeneratives already exist and they do just as well, so they accepted his offer - toast took this as an opportunity to practice acting - well he didn't need to put effort into acting at first cuz it was more like method acting, he still feels pain everytime it happens but overtime he gets used to it and learned to exaggerate his reactions - yvonne hated the job even more now that she had to work with toast

also bonus siwo reaction (yeah u can see from the dates how old this au is)

[kurlyfrasier]

Love Unknown (Part 1)

My dearest, most patient Nonny (you know who you are). I give you; PART ONE of your request. I hate that you’ve had to wait such a ridiculously long time for your request, so I thought I’d go ahead and give you the first bit. I hope you enjoy! Also, you never specified if you wanted the Reader and Raph to be in a relationship already so I hope you don’t mind that they are not in one at the moment.

Pairing: Raph x Reader

The Request (includes obvious warnings): its about angst, (spoiler), fight, blood and (spoiler again). ok, raph had a fight with reader so he say bad things to her, so he listens music (ZAYN & Sia - Dusk Till Dawn) because he was sad and crying but she could never hate raph, so after raph... (I’m leaving this part out of the request so there’s not so many spoilers) ....so he goes to reader and they make up. (possible trigger warning in tags that I took out of this request; may have to expand tags to see it)

A/N: I actually don’t watch any of the TMNT series’ so I know nothing about Destructor X (I’m assuming that’s who you wanted as the villain. I had to look it up). So, I took the liberty of changing the villain to one I know a tiny, itty bitty bit more about. I sincerely apologize if this ruins it for you. Also, this is a first draft.

Disclaimer: I own no TMNT anything, nor do I know any NYC geography, song belongs to Zayn & Sia, and last - but not least - Nonny owns this lovely, specific request! Honestly, I could do SO MUCH with this and it was hard to choose how to go about it. Last thing, I promise: If anyone thinks of a better title, PLEASE SHARE IT cuz I am terrible at coming up with titles.

Word Count: 1189

Raph fell onto his bed with a loud huff, body trembling from the hours-long workout he just finished. Yet, he was still angry - at himself more so than you. The words he spouted at you in a jealous rage- He shook his head, barely hearing the music blasting through his overly-large headphones as he recalled you wrestling with Mikey. His hand hovered, prepared to rip his headphones off, when the song changed to one you must have added to his playlist. You always did silly things like that; instilling bits of yourself into the turtles lives. They all loved it. 

Especially him. 

Especially on the days when you weren’t able to come visit.

Today had not been one of those days, but he had ruined it minutes into your visit.

His arm landed heavily next to him. Savoring the song, he closed his eyes. Unable to stop himself from falling for you even harder than he already had. A tear escaped, sliding down his cheek. Everything about the song reminded him of how he wished he could be with you. How he wanted to be there with you from dusk to dawn. How he wished to watch the sunrise with you. How he wished he had the right to touch you as the song implied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Something’s wrong,” Donnie whispered to Leo, pointing to a large screened device as Raph walked into the dojo, ready for patrol. “Her phone suddenly disconnected and I can’t pinpoint her on the GPS.”

Raph froze at his brother’s words, stomach sinking. He had a gut feeling they were talking about you. 

“Has she ever turned off her phone before?” Leo asked quietly, voice calm.

“Never,” Donnie emphatically shook his head, looking more worried by the second. “I’ve explained to her that she has to make sure her phone never dies and she nevers turns it off. Otherwise, if something happens…” He let the sentence hang.

“It’s possible (Y/n) forgot to charge her phone and-”

“That wouldn’t happen Leo!” Donnie whisper-shouted, shooting daggers at their brother. “She’s more responsible than that.”

“I know, I know,” Leo raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll go check her apartment and make sure everything’s okay.”

“What about R-”

“Don’t say anything until I get back,” Leo turned on his heel to find the very brother he was hoping to avoid, eyes widening slightly before forcing a neutral expression once more.

“Where ya goin’?” Raph asked, feigning nonchalance. Inside, he was raging, blood deafeningly pumped through his veins.

“Just getting some fresh air before we head out on patrol, is all,” he lied, making his way out of the dojo.

“I call bull,” Raph stated, eyes cold as he challenged their so-called leader, grabbing his brother’s arm in a vice-like grip. “What’s going on,” he growled out.

“It could be nothing, Raph. Calm-”

“(Y/n)’s phone is off,” Leo snapped his head in Donnie’s direction to find him marching their way. “Last I saw, she was headed East on Michigan Avenue.”

“When?”

“A couple of hours ago-”

“And you didn’t think to wake me!?” Raph released Leo to shake some sense into Donnie. He may have been a genius, but he could be a real dunce sometimes. “What if somethin’ happened to her! Huh!? What then!?”

“I thought-”

“It don’t matter what ya thought, Donnie!” Raph roared, shoving his brother away, causing him to stumble to the ground.

Next thing Raph knew, he and his brothers were topside, rain beating down on them in torrents as they headed East on Michigan, but he didn’t feel the cold. His only thoughts were of you; your scent, your hair, your laugh, that spark in your eye when you were up to something - or angry, now that he thought about it. Point was, if anything happened to you… he would never be able to forgive himself. Heck, he wasn’t sure he would live. You were his sunshine on his darkest days, the one thing he looked forward to most was seeing your smiling face. Not that you knew this, especially after your fight earlier in the day. 

One thing he knew for certain, on top of all that, was that he would never deserve you.

He was a monster. Something he proved all too well earlier that day and he wouldn’t be at all surprised if you hated him for it. Even he knew that he blew up for no good reason. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were drenched, and not from the sprinkle of rain that hit you- how long ago was it now? You didn’t know. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. The warm, thick liquid dripped down your temple from the last blow Karai had given you with the butt of her tanto blade. Eyes closed, you let out a groan, head pounding from the memory.

They had left you; the lowly Foot Clan soldiers and Karai, but you knew they’d be back for more. Considering how silent you were about the turtles whereabouts, you basically guaranteed yourself a nice, long torture. Karai just had to go get her ‘tools’, as she called them. Personally, you thought her fists, feet, and tantos were enough. 

Opening your eyes, you sought a way to escape. Not that you had any luck so far ridding yourself of the deadly tight ropes tying you to the hard, metal chair you sat in. Still, the thought of escape had you squinting into the darkened room. The only light was when lightning struck in the sky, seeping through the windows close to the ceiling. There were a few open, allowing the booming thunder to roll easily to your ears and rain to drip down the walls. Stacks of boxes surrounded you. If they weren’t too terribly heavy, you might be able to move a stack to create a makeshift staircase to the windows. You wriggled, but it only seemed to tightened the ropes at your wrists and ankles.

With a deep breath you thought of Raph. He was your best friend. If you were to die tonight you hoped he knew you didn’t hate him. Knowing him, that’s exactly what was running through his head. He was so passionate about everything he did. He felt everything so much more than you did, it seemed. Except for maybe one thing; your love for him. Nothing he ever did or said would ever turn your heart away from him. Granted, you did wonder what shot him off this time. He almost never took his anger out on you unless you did something dangerous; like try to follow him on patrol or go through dark alleys or- Well, the list went on. You did like pushing his buttons, but you liked how much he worried over you even more. 

The small smile that crept onto your lips faded the moment Karai slammed open the door, making a grand entrance with a wheeled table covered in objects that reflected the bit of light that now lit the room, giving it an almost romantic glow. It was a small fight to stop the laugh that bubbled in your throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

[platonicavengers]

heyyyyyy. can i request a fic where the reader is wanda and pietro's sister?

hi anon ahhhh tysm for the request!!!!!! i decided to make this into headcanons so i hope that’s ok!!!

this is my second time writing this, i accidentally deleted my first attempt :,) let’s try this again

pairing(s): maximoff twins x sibling!gn!reader && avengers x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for aou/civil war, death, any warnings that would be included for those movies would apply her ig, non-descriptive violence

author’s note: OH also im gonna make two parts of this i think so it’s not super duper long. this part takes place from age of ultron - civil war

my masterlist | read part two

headcanons under the cut !

okay so let’s say you’re about 2 years younger than the twins

and, corresponding with my headcanon for the twins’ age, that would make you 15 during age of ultron

but let’s rewind a little bit to before aou

whenever your siblings volunteered themselves (along with you) for strucker’s experiments you were, wary, to say the least

“y/n we can finally get revenge on stark if we do this!!!!” - pietro, probably

“yes,,,, but maybe the best way to do that isn’t literal h u m a n e x p e r i m e n t a t i o n pietro-” - you

okay now we can fast forward again to aou

the powers you got were quite similar to wanda’s, except hers were more powerful

which you were jealous of

anyways

when the avengers attacked strucker’s base you were freaking the fuck out

i mean you were just a 15 year old kid, you didn’t stand a chance against them

so you let your siblings take care of it

and despite you being younger than them, you were extremely protective over them

and when they came back after fighting the avengers you were checking over them, making sure they weren’t hurt

you made sure to cuss them out after you made sure they were okay for putting themselves in danger like that

whenever ultron came to sokovia and met y’all in the church you were like :O

cuz what are you supposed to do in that situation

you were kinda silent the whole time, letting the twins do most of the talking

even if you wanted to you couldn’t, they stood in front of you as to kind of hide you from ultron’s view

(he knew you were there)

when y’all were in africa (was it africa??? i can’t remember im sorry) you were not a big fan of the idea of fighting the avengers

but it was either that or fighting ultron

the avengers showed up

you tried to fight as little as possible but you couldn’t stay away from the battle entirely

you went to use your powers on captain america but he fought against it and when he noticed you were so young he just kinda stopped and looked at you

“you shouldn’t be involved in this fight” - cap

“i have no other choice” - you

“i’m not gonna fight you, kid” - cap

wanda was in front of u all of a sudden

“then you can fight me instead” - wanda

and now we go to seoul

ultron had control of the cradle and was creating his vision

you and your siblings approached the cradle, pietro keeping you close to him with a protective arm around your shoulder

after finding out what ultron’s true motives were your brother and sister were finally on board to ditch ultron

when u were on the train you helped wanda with stopping it

going to the avengers tower w captain america afterwards and when u got there u were like h o l y s h i t this place is so cool

sadly you couldn’t focus very much on that as you were supposed to be stopping stark from creating ultron’s vision

which, obviously, you were unsuccessful in doing

and then boom. vision was born

fast forward to sokovia

you fought as hard as you could against all of the mini-ultron’s

when it came time for wanda to guard the core you were hesitant to let her stay there alone

but she urged you to go

you reluctantly agreed

you were there when clint ran back to save the little boy

and you watched as the bullets headed for them

and pietro ran in front of them

you tried to stop the bullets, you really did

but you weren’t fast enough

after he died, you blamed yourself entirely

if you had been just a second faster you could’ve saved him

you were devastated

after clint safely carried the boy to the ship, he carried pietro’s body over as well, despite your protests

he brought you over there as well, and you immediately sat next to your brother

you cried for what felt like hours

(it probably was)

after carrying wanda away from the city, he placed her down next to you

she immediately brought you into a hug, the two of you mourning your lost brother

not long after the events of sokovia, you and wanda moved into the new avengers compound and became official avengers

not going on the mission to lagos but obviously finding out what happened

you tried to comfort wanda, telling her it wasn’t her fault but she didn’t believe you

whenever the accords were brought up you knew you wouldn’t sign them

you feared what the government would do to you and wanda, the two of you being enhanced

tony somewhat confined you to the compound as well but he wasn’t as strict with it considering you weren’t in lagos

going with clint to the airport when he came to recruit you and wanda for team cap

during the whole airport fight most of team iron man didn’t wanna fight you since you were so young

which left you to mostly fight against spider-man, who you assumed was pretty close to your age

he kept trying to talk to you the whole time though which was pretty annoying

“dude, your powers are so cool! i mean, i have powers too, but th-they’re nowhere near as cool as yours! you have like, magic and stuff! that’s awesome-”

you cut him off by throwing a sign at him

“ow- okay, sorry-” - peter, while pinned under a sign LMFAO

you were taken to the raft along with most of team cap

you were forced into a straitjacket and a shock collar that went off every time you used your powers

which really sucked, considering you were always subconsciously using your powers, whether intentionally or not

when tony came by the raft you refused to look at him

he stopped in front of your cell and just stared at you

“this is your fault.” - you whispered

his heart broke at how weak you sounded

a couple days later when steve came to break you all out of the prison u were overjoyed

thought being on the run wasn’t too much better

stay tuned for part 2!!!!!!!

i’ll probably start working on it sometime later today and then have it posted either tonight or within the next few days!!!! :) hope u enjoyed!

[teresa-moyocoyotzin]

short recap of my thoughts on 5x09

okay so i was gonna rewatch the whole episode and do a blow-by-blow reaction post but i’m not sure i’ll have time and i kinda wanna focus on watching my fave scenes from the show before tonight. also, everyone else’s reaction posts p. much sum up my thoughts lol 

nonetheless, i just wanted to give my main takeaways on the episode a week later, in case anyone cares where i’m at going into the finale! gonna go over the things i liked first, anyone who wants to just remain positive and not see any salty takes might wanna just stick to reading the first part b/c i definitely rant a bit at the end lmao. we’re still having a fun time tho 😂

THINGS I LOVED

- i mean... i think we know LOL

- obviously. i loved james and teresa’s i love you scenes, and kisses, and OOF THAT SEX SCENE. if someone had told me we were gonna get that scene back in like 2017??? i probably would have started literally floating. i totally respect that people had very specific ideas of what they wanted out of those scenes and could have different feelings about it but NOT ME BABES I AM ECSTATIC!!! i did go into the episode with a ~feeling~ that we were gonna get at least one ILY in the episode, and i just had a feeling it would be james, or at least that he would say it first. i’ve already explained in my meta about the scenes why i think it makes sense that he said it first and why i love it that he did, so i won’t go into that here. but i went in having really no expectations for it other than that it was gonna happen! i was debating about whether it would happen really casually while they’re talking, or in like a big action scene, or really dramatic or what, and what i would prefer, and i came to the conclusion that i would love it no matter what lol, but i was really into the idea of james just. fucking. saying it. while they’re just talking about something really casually. so therefore i was pretty happy with it when we got sort of a mix! they’re talking about teresa’s insane death trap of a plan so there’s that drama of “i don’t want to lose you esp. not before saying ILY” kinda thing, but it’s also just. so simple and sure! and then teresa’s i love you is like the perfect scene for me where one character is super focused on something else (in this case, trying to protect the woman he loves! agh!) and the other is just like.. i love you!!!! SO GOOD

- let’s see, what the hell else happened in this ep?

- oh okay i really liked james and teresa’s vibes this episode, they were so focused on each other and had this very ride-or-die feeling about them like they knew that each of their plans was increasingly stupid and desperate and might not even get them where they wanna go, but they were IN IT TOGETHER no matter what 😭i wish we had gotten a callback to that line but at this point, i’m p. sure they Know they’re in it together, and we do too. so it’s okay. i love that teresa still asks his input and considers his opinions even if she does her own thing anyways haha 

- oh on that note, i LOVED the moment where their plans to kill Kostya aren’t working and Teresa says something like “If I can meet with him in person, I can kill him myself” and James just has this LOOK that just is the epitome of the “I am in love with a women who is DESIGNED TO STRESS ME OUT” meme lol, it made me giggle, v classic QOTS moment 

- oh and of course, I LOVED that scene with devon and james at the end!!!!!!!! i was also confused about how james was showing all his emotions in that scene esp. since he tries to be stoic about his feelings for Teresa around Devon, but now that i’ve read a few people’s thoughts about, it i’m fully on board w the theory that james and teresa already knew this was coming, b/c they’re smart, and b/c james knows devon wouldn’t have let him walk away to save Teresa at the beginning of the season without motivation (like having him in place to kill her when she’s no longer useful to the CIA) and THEREFORE james was sort of “overacting” to make it believable to devon (and the audience lol) that he didn’t know this was coming, didn’t want to do it, but felt like he had to, rather than the fact that they were already plotting a fake death. that makes a lot of sense to me and makes me really love all the layers to that scene. it does give me a little bit of hope that the finale ~teresa’s not really dead~ reveal will be at least a little well executed and not just shoved in at the very end. we shall see though! 

- alright i think that’s what i loved about the episode, if u don’t wanna hear me bitching about the little things then u should probably stop here!! just have to get out some of my saltiness lol 

THINGS I WAS ANNOYED ABOUT

- i’m just gonna get it out of the way, yes, i too was supremely annoyed at the amount of KA and Pote take suburbia; it was all 1000% predictable down to the raccoon and the cookies, and the point could have been accomplished in exactly 1 scene, maybe 2, certainly not like 10 or however many we got. whatever. ugh. 

- okay. OKAY. chicho. we need to talk about chicho. i for one, am not mad that he called pote, my boy was stressed. I AM HOWEVER, mad at the writers for making pote come back after saying he trusted chicho to take care of teresa now. like. it totally devalued THE WHOLE THING!! imo, pote shoulda stayed his ass at home where we had to watch him settle all episode, and chicho should have gotten THE HERO MOMENT HE DESERVED (esp. cuz he’s on first name basis w teresa now??) which ALSO WOULD HAVE MADE THE SCENE WHERE TERESA GIVES CHICHO THE DISTILLERY AND THE BAR SO! MUCH! MORE! MEANINGFUL!!!!! or just made it make sense at all? like .... i’m just so confused by that whole plotline like what was the point? chicho does nothing but call pote and gets T’s whole legacy in NOLA? 

- and don’t even get me started on how it makes ZERO sense that pote would have had to charge in at the last minute to save teresa when JAMES THE SNIPER W AMAZING AIM WHO IS LITERALLY. IN LOVE WITH HER. is standing outside like. ur telling me james and chicho (who again, is supposed to be her #2 after james now) just stood there like “oh hey pote yeah you go ahead we’ll wait here good luck” like WHAT also.. how did pote get past all the guards that made james stay outside? are we meant to believe pote is that sneaky? y’all. it just. doesn’t make sense. this whole plot situation maddens me more than anythings tbh UGH JUST MAKE IT MAKE SENSE 

- oksana’s daughter..... what’s her name again? idk b/c we only MET HER THIS WEEK....okay this amuses me but i’m also annoyed b/c like. there were so many other women who could have taken that spot in the opening sequence... Lil T, Castel, hell even Isabela??? Like idk how they could have done it but they put so much effort into her plot in the first seasons that i really thought she was gonna end up w/ Teresa in the end.. idk that would have been kind cool, Camila’s two “daughters” eventually working their way out of the life together..again idk how they could have realistically done it but i really do wish it had been someone we met before. if it had to be someone new this season, they could have introduced her earlier instead of one of the seemingly dozens of random guys we knew for 1 episode before they died... like.. give her some depth please. is she even gonna be in the finale? honestly she better be after making us listen to pote welcome her into the family... like the family u were supposed to leave so u could have an actual baby pote? the family that’s literally dispersing as we speak? also.. since when did pote love oksana so much anyways? also...... just.. if teresa’s gonna have some sort of daughter figure or whatever she’s supposed to be, wouldn’t it make sense to have her be the one to give the big welcome to the family speech? idk y’all..... i’m amused but also baffled at the sheer lack of planning behind this. did no one realize they needed someone for the opening scene until like. halfway thru the season? did they plan to have it be castel but they couldn’t get her for filming (hence all the weird castel plots?) INQUIRING MINDS WOULD LIKE TO KNOW. it’s whatever tho lol 

- i just hope that what’s-her-name gets a lil bit of plot in the finale esp. since otherwise it might just be pote running around being pissy (i don’t actually think that haha but i am a lil nervous that teresa won’t come back until the last few mins and i’ll have to spend all episode looking at boaz and devon and pote and KA.. i haven’t looked at any spoilers tho so i’m still hopeful! i will probably make a post about my hopes going into the finale a lil later, both realistic and unrealistic :) 

[prettyyoungandbored]

All I’ve Got [Nikki Sixx, Tommy Lee]

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Sister!Reader, Tommy Lee & Sixx Sister!Reader

Request: hi! i’m the anon who asked about you writing for the dirt, do you think you could write something where the reader is nikki’s sister and dating tommy and she’s with tommy when they see on the tv that nikki is dead??? and they find out later he isn’t dead and the reader begs him to get his shit together cuz he’s the only family she has??? sorry it’s so specific lmao thank you!!���

Warnings: Mentions of an overdose

Tommy insisted on spending Christmas with his parents, something Y/N was more than happy to do. Up until the boys came along in her life, her and Nikki didn’t really celebrate the holidays. Even when they lived with their grandparents, the holidays were just another day. 

She and Tommy begged Nikki to come along, but he refused. Y/N couldn’t understand why, but she had feeling Nikki had plans with someone named heroin. His addiction was growing stronger everyday, besides pleas from Y/N to get help before it was too late. 

Angered by her brother’s carelessness and selfishness, she refused to let it effect her time at Tommy’s house. 

Tommy’s mom and Y/N decorated the house, talking and laughing the entire time. Tommy’s mom treated her with the warmth and love that Deanna, Y/N and Nikki’s real mom, never gave her. She and Tommy’s father made sure Y/N always felt comfortable, and there weren’t enough words in the English language to describe just how grateful Y/N was for them.

The night before Christmas Eve, Tommy, Y/N, and Tommy’s parents and sister were sitting around, enjoying some hot chocolate when Tommy’s father picked up the remote from the coffee table.

“I think they have ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ playing on Channel 3,” he said, turning it on. 

He found the Channel 3 and just as the opening credits began to play, they were cut off by a ‘Breaking News’ graphic. 

“What’s going on?” Tommy’s mom inquired, turning to her husband. 

The camera fixated on the female anchor. 

“Good evening. I’m Robin Carlisle with some breaking news out of Hollywood. We’ve just received unconfirmed reports that Mötley Crüe bassist Nikki Sixx has died this evening of an apparent drug overdose.”

Y/N dropped her cup of hot chocolate on the floor, her blood running ice cold. Her mouth hung open as the world around her froze. She couldn’t hear Tommy hold her in his arms as he sobbed violently. 

She felt like a huge part of her had just been ripped away without warning. Nikki was her only family, her protector from their mother and her creepy boyfriends. He was her best friend and her partner-in-crime. 

Now, he was gone and she was sure it was her fault. 

She tried multiple times to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t budge. She was all talk and no action, afraid of what her brother would do if she took away his needles and heroin. 

But this is what her fear got her. 

She crumbled to the ground, Tommy holding her tightly in his arm as she cried on his chest. As devastated as he was that he lost his best friends, a part of hi was furious at Nikki. How could do this, even after his sister begged and pleaded with him multiple times? How could he leave her like this? 

He opens his mouth in an attempt to tell her it’s gonna be ok, but he loves her too much to lie. 

“Vince called,” Tommy’s father said, coming back from the kitchen. “He says Nikki’s at Cedars-Sinai.” 

Tommy nodded. “Thanks Pop.” He turned to Y/N who wiped her eyes. “It’s up to you, babe.” 

“I need to go,” she sniffled. “I have to go.” 

He wasn’t going to argue with her so he helped her up, grabbed his keys, and the two of them made their way. 

Tommy tried to drive as fast as he can while Y/N tried to keep herself together in the passenger seat. She almost reached out to turn on the radio, just to quiet the thoughts in her head but she knew that would be useless considering all of them would just have Christmas songs playing and that was the last thing she needed to hear.

She buried her face in her hands. Tommy glancesd over at her and used one hand to stroke her hair, a silent reassurance that he was here for her.

When they arrived at the hospital, a swarm of paparazzi stood outside. Tommy grabbed Y/N’s hand as she lowered her head. Just as her nightmare couldn’t get any worse, cameras and screams from those behind them, made her jump.

‘Y/N did you know about your brother’s addiction?!’

‘Are you taking over his assets?’

‘What’s gonna happen to Mötley Crüe?’

‘Is it true he had a prostitute in the room when he died?’

“Can you all seriously fuck off?!” Tommy barked at them.

She tightened her grip on Tommy as the paparazzi continued to scream at her. She rushed inside followed by Tommy.

They made their way to the front desk, not caring about the people in the waiting area staring at them. The nurse at the front desk looked at Y/N and Tommy.

“You’re here for Nikki Sixx, I assume?” She asked.

Y/N nodded and the nurse gave her a warm, sympathetic smile. “You’re just in time. The doctor is in there with him right now. He apparently woke up not too long ago?”

Y/N’s head shot up, eyes widening. “He...he what?!”

“He what?” Tommy asked.

“Did Mr. Neil not tell you?” the nurse questioned. “Our EMTs revived him on the way here. He’s been-.”

“What room is he in?” Y/N cut her off.

“Third floor. Room 7.”

Y/N thanked her as she and Tommy rushed into the elevator. Hope and relief radiated through her that when she and Tommy were alone, she found herself clutching onto’s Tommy shirt, crying.

Tommy was relived, to say the very least. It also made him realize his current lifestyle had consequences and that if he ever wanted a real future with Y/N, he had to make some serious changes.

When they got to the third floor, Y/N and Tommy booked it to Room 7, pushing through nurses and other staffers to get to the room.

Upon reaching Room 7, Y/N burst through the door to find her older brother button up his jeans. He looked up and froze when he saw his little sister.

Y/N and Nikki stood there face-to-face. His face softened at the sight of his baby sister’s blood shot eyes. 

Nikki’s pale state brought out the dried blood spots on his chest from where the needles were injected as well as his under eye bags.

“Y/N-.” 

Y/N stomped toward him and slapped him across the face. He stumbled back, surprised by her actions.

“Ow,” he grumbled.

“I thought I lost you tonight,” she trembled. “I thought I lost my best friend and my brother.”

Nikki swallowed hard, his hands leaving the spot where she slapped him. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

She threw her hands up. “Is that all you have to say to me?! You’re sorry?!”

She eyed the telephone on his night side, pointing at it. “You couldn’t even have the decency to call me or Tommy and tell us you were fine?! I gave you his family’s house phone number for a reason!”

She wiped her eyes with her sleeves. “You were going to runaway, weren’t you? You were going to run from the doctor.”

“Y/N-.”

“No, no I don’t wanna hear it, ok? You’re gonna stay in here and I’m gonna stay here until you are formally discharged. After that, I’m staying at the house and you and I and Doc are gonna talk about rehab.”

Nikki rolled his eyes. “You’re overreacting.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as Tommy, realizing what was about to happen, stepped back. She slapped her brother again.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” he snapped.

“You’re all I have, Nikki!” she spat. “You’re my only family left. I can’t lose you. Please, I am begging you, please stop this and get clean.”

Nikki lowered his head, realizing his actions had more serious consequences than he believed. Y/N wiped her eyes and nose on the sleeve of her sweater.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whimpered.

Nikki made eye contact with Tommy, who lowered his gaze in solidarity with his girlfriend. Nikki then opened his arms, wrapping them around her as she sobbed.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m really sorry.”

He knew changes had to be made if not for him, but for the sake of the only family he had left.

[normal-thoughts-official]

The world keeps spinning (it really shouldn't)

Vance did it. He defeated Josephine, saved his grandpa and Elliot, and saved the town. Everything's fixed.

No. Everything is awful. He failed, and now his friend- now Tom is gone.

And he'd rather fight Josephine all over again, because it'd be easier than what he has to do now- tell Andy about it.

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Relationships: Andy Kang/Tom Sato, Danni Asturias/Imogen Wescott, (dannimogen is background and very brief but i couldn't resist), Andy Kang & Ava Cunningham & Lucas Thomas & Lily Ortiz

Additional Tags: tom dies and everything is awful, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Friendship, for basic context im going with the version of ILITW that i got, which is that everyone survived and noah took jane's place, and then for ILB i did the version where tom dies obviously, (which is not the version i got), (everyone survived), (i feel the need to say this for my own ego), but anyway i was like what if tho. andy would be devastated, and then... this happened?, only difference from canon is that ILITW MC told everyone about noah a lot before, also like. imma be real with yall, im physically uncapable of giving my MCs serious names, so ILB MC was named That Bitch and i didnt want to give him a real name, cuz it felt like betrayal, so im just calling him vance for this one, is it his nickname? is he called vance vance? dont worry about it, Anyway that's it, Pining, you know. before the death part. it's mentioned, also we're ignoring the whole richard tries to murder MC thing, cuz i dont have time for that, so pretend ILB ended on chapter 17, Hopeful Ending, considering the theme i mean

Read it on Ao3

The city of Westchester looks exactly the same, but somehow feels a lot less wholesome, now. Vance walks in it and feels like a corpse among the living, like a ghost screaming to everyone that something's wrong. And being ignored.

It shouldn't look the same, without Tom.

But no one knows, yet.

He swallows, running a hand behind the nape of his neck. That's why he's here, anyway - they should know, they deserve to know, and he doesn't want to have the funeral without Tom's friends there.

Which is why he's going to tell Andy. Himself, in person. Because he might not know him very well, but he wants to do the right thing, and that's the least Andy deserves. He knows there's no one Tom loved like he did Andy, and from what he's seen of them together, the feeling was mutual.

He has to do this. But he feels sick, just thinking about that bond, and how it was ruined.

How could he let this happen to them?

He was so cocky, so stupid, so reckless... He thought everything would turn out okay. Assumed it would, even, because it kept getting him through it, to think that everything would turn out fine.

God. What a joke.

He walks into the little diner Andy had recommended. I'm sure you've heard of that place, Tom loves it, he had texted. We always went there to celebrate our wins back in high school. His stomach had churned, but he didn't say anything, because he wasn't going to tell Andy via text. He has to do this right. It's the least he owes him.

So he pretended that everything was fine, and agreed to meet him there. Woke up, and dragged himself to the place, trying to muster up the courage to face the world that seemed to not even care about his mistakes.

When he gets to the diner's door, he takes a deep breath, trying to ground himself for what he's about to do. Face his own mistakes. Face the pain he caused when he failed them both.

He walks in, and to his relief, and despair, Andy is already there. He smiles brightly when he sees Vance, and Vance wants to disappear.

"Vance! Nice to see you, dude. I heard about what went down in Pine Springs, glad you're okay," he says, not giving time for Vance to answer before continuing, this weird sense of calm and sympathy about him. "So, I assume you still need help with that ghost? From what I've seen in the news, it seemed like you handled it pretty well, but it's not like they are giving us supernatural updates or anything, so I figured there were still some loose ends to tie. Are the other guys coming? Where's Tom?" he looks over behind Vance, and Vance wants to die at the question. God, how is he going to tell him? He didn't really think about that, beyond the part where he has to. "I kind of thought you'd come together again. Bad move to come separated, Tom is always late to everything, I swear if it weren't for me he'd have been kicked out of the team for missing practice too many times. And I'm not the most punctual guy in the world, mind you, but I still had to drag his ass there so he'd be on time- is everything okay?"

Vance is a little shocked by the question. It's not, but what is he supposed to answer? "Andy," he says, a little careful, "things… went a little wrong, back there."

"Oh, shoot," he says, "I'm sorry, man, I kinda assumed, when I heard about how the flooding and the animal attacks were in full swing and then just stopped suddenly, that that was when you got rid of the ghost, you know? And seeing you all in one piece… I thought it was over already. Do you need help? I can round up the guys, and we can go-"

"No, Andy," Vance says, "the ghost is gone."

Andy looks at him, confused. "Then what's the problem?"

"Tom," he says, then winces when he sees all the color drain from Andy's face.

Andy waits for barely a second, then breaks into anxious questioning. "Tom? Why? What do you mean? Is he hurt? How bad is it? Did he have to go to the hospital? Where is he?"

Vance wants to cry. God. God. He can't do this. "Andy..."

Andy just looks at him, eyes wild, terrified, and it hasn't even hit him yet. "Vance. Vance. Please. What happened? Does Tom need me? Because if so, we need to go-"

"Tom's gone," he says, and it leaves him in a rush, a whisper, taking with it the last of his energy. He's empty, and somehow, it's still awful. "He's… he's dead, Andy."

Andy looks at him, eyes wide, unfocused, lost. "This isn't funny," he says. "If Tom put you up to this, knock it off right now. Tell him not to ever joke about-"

"Andy," Vance says, then swallows. "Tom wouldn't joke about that. You know that."

"No, he wouldn't, but..." His eyes begin to water, panic settling in, gaze darting across the room as if searching for him, "But… No. No. No, knock it off."

Vance starts crying before Andy does. "I'm sorry, Andy."

--------

Andy is in shock. He freezes in place, mouth hanging open, everything about him completely still except for his eyes, still so damn wide, still searching the place, searching Vance, begging for something, anything. Vance sits him back down on the table, gently, and Andy lets himself be handled back, eyes still not settling on him.

"I'm sorry," Vance says. "I… I promised you that I would take care of him. I tried, but… I'm so sorry."

"How?" he asks, "how could this happen? This isn't… After Redfield, when everyone survived, I just… I didn't think any of us could lose to another monster, I..." He shakes his head, vigorously, desperately. "This was supposed to be over. We were done, we were free, it was supposed to be over, we were all supposed to be safe, it shouldn't..."

"I'm sorry. It all happened so fast, I… If I had been faster, maybe..."

"Well, it's a bit late for that now," Andy snaps, and Vance bites his lip, not recoiling, because he deserves it. Then Andy stops, as if realizing what he had said, and for a second, his eyes seem clear again. He shakes his head. "No. I'm sorry. I… If there's anything I've learnt from everything that happened, it's that we can't point fingers when things get hard." He finally looks up at Vance, shaking, eerily still, nothing like the guy he was just seconds ago. He's wrecked, Vance thinks, and he wants to tear at himself in guilt. "What happened? Did he- did he drown, or… Did the ghost..."

"We were fighting monsters," Vance explains. "There were just… So many of them, and it all happened so fast, I..." he looks away, not daring to look back at the memory, not daring to remember the awful scene. As if he has to. Everytime he closes his eyes, it's back, punishing him. "We got his body," he explains. "Pine Springs is taking the victims to mass graves, but we wanted to give him a proper burial. I thought… You'd want to come."

Andy seems surprised, like that hadn't crossed his mind. "You haven't buried him yet?"

Vance bites his lip. "No. We're doing it tonight. We didn't have the time before, and… Well, I thought you'd want to be there. And I think he'd have wanted his body to be in Westchester, so..." He trails off.

Andy looks at him, hesitant. He bites his lip, looks away, then back at him. "Can I see the body?"

Vance does recoil, this time. He wasn't expecting this question. "I… You won't want to."

"What do you mean, I won't want to? I need to say goodbye to him, I-"

"Andy," he says, as gently as possible, because he deserves Andy's anger, all of it, but he won't let him do that to himself. "You won't want to remember him like that. His body…" He looks at Andy's eyes. He's still furious, livid, shaking, and he's lost, and Vance realizes that he doesn't get it, doesn't understand what Vance is saying, and this might be even worse than having to tell him Tom is dead. "It's torn to pieces, Andy. There's not much for you to see."

Andy freezes, for the second time that day. "Was he- oh, god," he looks at his own shaky hands, somehow even more in shock than before. "Was it… At least, was it quick?"

Vance starts crying again. He opens his mouth to answer. He can't. He chokes on the words, on his guilt, on his uselessness. "I'm so sorry, Andy."

------

Andy throws up. Once, twice. He doesn't insist on looking at the body. Obviously, he can't. Just imagining it- it's too much.

He tries to comfort Vance, because he- he's trying to do better, with his anger, with his impulsiveness, but all he can think about is how much he wants to destroy something, and honestly, the whole conversation is a blur. He punches the wall instead, once he gets home. And throws up. Again and again. Sends his friends a message, letting them know about the funeral. Cries. Punches the wall again. And again, and again, hoping that his hands will start to bleed, that he'll tear himself apart. His mom asks what's got him so angry, and he yells, "Tom is dead!". Her face twists in shock, and he can't look at it. He runs away.

Being back outside is almost worse. Everything- it should be in shambles. The whole town, the whole world should be on fire, fizzling, filled with screams and despair, like Andy is. He's never lived in a world without Tom before, never been away from him his whole life, and it shouldn't look like it's just the same. Everything should be gone, destroyed. And it is, but it doesn't look that way, and Andy wants to tear it all apart until it makes sense, at least.

He hates Westchester now. He hates it. God damn the stupid woods, and the stupid cult, and the fucking Power! God damn Andy for telling Tom about it, for letting him become this sort of- monster hunter, for believing that just because they overcame a ghost once, it would keep happening if they pushed their luck.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Tom can't be dead. It's impossible.

How can Andy still be standing, if Tom isn't here?

---------

He wanders like that the rest of the day, not noticing the hunger that builds up after going a whole day without eating, not noticing the passersby looking at him worriedly, not noticing the thousands of missed calls from his mom, not noticing anything but this awful despair. He knows the feeling of wanting to claw his chest off intimately well, but it's never been like that before. He wants to carve himself hollow. He wants to scream. He wants to run. And he runs from the all-encompassing nothingness, even though he has nowhere to go.

He goes from angry to empty, and then back to angry, all day long, and the day passes in a blur.

--------

Andy meets up with Vance and two girls from their crew. Their group was pretty small, he realizes. A lot smaller than Andy's was, all those years ago. Three years ago. Forever ago. Another lifetime. Just yesterday.

The cemetery is empty, but there's a grave with a black casket they're standing next to. "I thought all the cemetery crew was helping Pine Springs," he says, like he cares. Honestly, he hadn't thought about the logistics of this at all.

"They are," Vance confirms, serious. "You, uh… You know about Noah, right…?"

Andy nods. "Yeah, we, uh, reintroduced ourselves to him a little after you guys left." It was weird, to say the least. All that anger, all that betrayal, bubbling up again right when they had all started to move on from what had happened, to think that it was over… The urge to scream at him, demand answers… And then seeing all the hurt, and the confusion, and remembering that they had loved Noah, once, most of their lives, and that at the end of the day, the only one who had suffered from his actions was himself.

It wasn't easy to forgive. Not to Andy. Or Stacy. Or Ava. But they had been working on it. Maybe they couldn't forgive, much less forget, but at the same time, they couldn't get rid of that bond, either.

Still… "What does this have to do with… With Tom?" If Noah had anything to do with his death, Andy would kill him all over again. He doesn't care about his freaky powers, he'll die if he has to, but Noah will pay.

"He, uh, helped. Dig the grave and, uh, get a casket. That's how we got everything ready."

Oh. "I… I see," he says. "Is he here?"

"No. I told him you guys were coming, and he said it was better if he left."

"Oh," Andy answers. "I guess that's… Yeah. Still..." he raises his voice a little bit, in the direction of the woods. "Thank you, Noah."

He doesn't see or hear anything, not really, but still, somehow, he can tell that Noah is pleased. He can picture Noah's smile and that fragile little "friendsss..."

He sighs, suddenly exhausted.

Vance seems to notice, god bless his soul. "Are the others coming?", he asks, gently.

"Lily, Lucas, and Ava are," Andy replies. "The rest were out of town, and they… They won't make it."

"I'm sorry."

Andy kicks a pebble. "It's fine," he says. It's the kind of lie that's so absurd that it becomes true. Nothing is fine. It'll never be fine. So it doesn't matter at all, and it ends up being fine.

Vance seems to realize what's going through his head, somehow, because he looks unsure of what to say. Finally, he settles on, "uh, Andy. These are Danni, and Imogen," he says, gesturing to each of them, and Andy musters up enough energy to look at their faces while he does that, at least. Then, his eyes widen for a second, finally taking in what they look like.

"Wait, you're Imogen Wescott?" he says, a little dumbfounded. "When I heard that name, I kinda expected you to be, you know..."

"White and insufferable?" Imogen asks, a little smile directed at him, so gentle he can barely handle it. "Yeah. That's why I'd rather go by Genny, usually."

Danni frowns at her, slightly troubled. "You never told me that."

Imogen's smile turns a little brighter. "Oh, no, not for you, Danni. For you, I'd rather go by 'babe'".

Danni also smiles at her, and they squeeze each other's hands, and the edges of grief seem to turn just a little softer for them both. Andy can tell that things get just a little easier for them, just a little less grim, because they have each other. And he needs to look away, wants to run, because he and Tom… They could've… In a way, they were...

He feels like he's ready to run again. God, he fucked up so bad. What was he supposed to do now, how could he get better when the one thing in the world that always made him feel better was Tom? He lost him, he's gone, it's over, and somehow it hadn't hit quite the way it did at that moment, looking at that connection, that love that showed through grief. He averts his eyes, feeling wild and cornered, and turns back right in time to almost run into Lily - who looks devastated, and reaches out to touch his arm. Which feels crazy, because Andy is raw, and his whole body is bleeding, and rotting away, and who would touch him-

"I'm so sorry, Andy." She says, and Andy finds himself hugging her tight, and he feels like she should wither, die at his touch, suffocate, but she just hugs him back and pats him and Andy cries on her shoulder, and he's never cried in front of her before, much less like this. But he can't stop, he can't do anything, he's so heavy and dizzy and lost-

And Lily is stronger than they give her credit for, because she holds him, this endless weight that is him, even when he shakes and stains her sweater with tears, like it's nothing. She feels so solid, right then, the only solid thing in the world. She's got him, Andy knows, and it's like finally he ran into something he can take shelter in. He takes a deep breath, then another, and holds on for dear life.

"I'm sorry," is the first thing he says, maybe the only thing he knows how to say right now. Maybe this is how Jane felt, in the end - this endless spectre of regret, bigger than everything, than everyone, encompassing her and drowning her until it ate her whole and left her empty, with only the Power and its evil inside her.

He's so tired, but he's not empty, not yet.

He almost wants to be.

"Don't apologize," Lily says, so sad and sympathetic, and it takes Andy a moment to realize what she's even talking about. "I'm really sorry, I..."

It's only then that Andy's eyes focus enough to see Ava and Lucas standing a little after her, their faces twisted with sadness and bodies frozen in place. At times like this, it really is obvious that Lily is the bravest out of all of them, by far. Andy doesn't think he's ever cried in front of any of them, and Lucas and Ava look- completely lost.

Lucas is the first to talk, out of them both. His voice is very soft. "Andy, if there's anything you need..."

Ava interrupts, words leaving her way too fast. "We'll be staying with you tonight." She blinks for a second, frowning at Lucas. "Sorry, I, uh, hadn't realized you were talking." She looks like she just came out of a daze. She probably had been running that in her head for a while. Lucas puts his hand on her shoulder, and Ava runs a head on her neck, embarrassed.

"It's okay," Andy answers, even though her apology wasn't directed at him. "You don't have to, you know, watch over me or..." He trails off.

"We're not leaving you alone," Ava says, resolute. "You know the others couldn't come, but we all agreed that we should be… You know..."

Andy chokes on something he can't quite feel. He looks down at his feet, and he hasn't felt this small in years. "I… Okay."

Ava reaches out to him, hesitant, and gives him a little pat on the shoulder. Lucas starts rubbing his back soothingly, and, very awkwardly, they gravitate into a group hug. Andy can see the nervousness in Ava's eyes, the worry that she's doing this wrong somehow, like a hug is the most complex thing in the world, and he tries to muster up a little smile of encouragement to her, but he's forgotten how to do that. He doesn't know how to do anything, anymore.

Slowly, they separate, and all three of them still keep some sort of touch with Andy - even Ava, with her hand close to his shoulder - like they're trying to anchor him, but he drifts away anyway, lost in whatever it is that's left of himself.

Vance looks down at him for a moment, as if waiting for a signal, but Andy doesn't know for what, so he waits for Vance to figure it out. Finally, he says, "should we start?"

Andy frowns. "Wasn't there some other guy with you? Pork something?"

Vance, Imogen, and Danni all look at each other, uncertain, surprised, for a moment. It's Imogen who speaks up. "He… He left us."

Ava swallows. "Did he also..."

"No," she says, shaking her head, sadly. "He, uh, deserted the group."

"He what?" Someone asks, shocked, almost outraged, and when Andy sees the looks in everyone's faces, he realizes that it was him.

"He couldn't take it," Vance says, face twisted with sadness. "All the fighting, the monsters… He left."

Andy is shaking. Falling apart. About to explode. "When?"

Vance doesn't look at him. "Right before the final battle."

"He abandoned you when you were going up against the evil ghost?"

"He..." Vance begins, then finds that he has nothing else to say. "Yeah."

"How…" Andy begins, lost for words, and then it happens. He explodes. "How dare he!" He screams. "Tom was counting on him, he trusted him, he needed him, and he just left? He should have been there! He should have been there, he should," Andy looks at his own hands, in shock, watching them tremble and go out of focus, like there are tears blocking his vision, and he feels sick, on the verge of death, and he realizes that he's not talking about that guy at all. "He should have been there!" He slips from his own control, falling to his knees, covering his face, feeling shame, shame, shame, hatred, disgust. "He should… I should… Oh God, I just let him go alone..."

"Andy..." Someone says. Maybe Lucas. Maybe Lily. Maybe the Imogen girl. It sounds so sympathetic. He wants to claw at his own skin and hide.

"I should have been there, I shouldn't… I had experience, what was I thinking..."

"Tom didn't want you to go," someone else says, gently. "I was there when you talked, remember? You didn't abandon him. You said you were going to come, and he told you not to."

"Tom.. Tom is not my damn boss," Andy answers, still covering his face, feeling the tears stop spilling and start to drown him from the inside, and god damn T, the least Tom deserves is for him to be able to cry properly- "I-I should have… gone," he chokes, shaking.

The next one who speaks is Ava. "He wouldn't have wanted you to be at risk, Andy."

"I don't care. I don't care. I'm selfish like that, I'd rather it was me. I could have helped him, I could have saved him, even if I had to- to take his place..."

"Andy..." is all Ava says, sounding shaken, devastated.

"Fuck!" He screams, punching the ground beneath him as if trying to punish the earth for taking Tom. "He would have never left me like that, I could always count on Tom, I could always..." he feels his chest constrict, or maybe burst, with all the tears and horror inside of him, like he's cracking from the inside. "Always..." he can't form the words, can't find the air, and he falls in on himself, more, more, more, closing in, suffocating, "always..." he can't breathe. He can't breathe. He tries to draw it in, to keep himself steady, but every time he tries to bring it in, the air escapes from him again, further, abandoning him, and he wheezes, again, again, closing in further, suffocating, oh God, he's going to die…

"It's a panic attack!" Someone screams, then kneels beside him, putting their hands on his shoulders. "Andy. Andy. Focus on me. You need to breathe. Deep lungfuls. Come on. I'll count to four. Keep breathing in. 1… 2..."

"Can't," he wheezes. It's too strong, like there's something… Something constricting his chest, inside and outside, and then he realizes… "Binder." He sits down straighter, no longer closing in on himself, and that awful vulnerability gets even worse, but it's easier to breathe. He follows the person's counts… 1, 2, 3, 4… Then up to five, then to six, then to seven, then eight… Until finally he doesn't need help, and he opens his eyes and contemplates the absolute mess that he is, and Imogen's kind, relieved face just inches from him.

"Good, Andy, you did well… I have these sometimes, too, I know how scary they are, you were so brave..." Imogen keeps on saying, painfully understanding, and he nods, a bit exhausted to explain. He didn't take his binder off all day, didn't remember… And if he wears it for too long, he's more prone to hyperventilating, especially if he's stressed. Tom knew that. Tom would have known what was going on. Tom… Fuck.

"I'm sorry," he says, to everyone, and no one in particular.

"Don't apologize. We're all glad you're okay," Lily says, and he realizes that, somehow, she had also kneeled beside him and brought him into another hug. He hides his face on her shoulder, shaking his head, trying to breathe. Breathing. She pets his head, a little bit, and he can feel some more touch, too - little pats on his shoulder and back, all gentle, not crowding him, like he's some sort of wild animal they're trying to calm down.

God, what a mess.

He holds Lily tighter, wanting to hide from the world. She lets him, because it's the kind of person Lily is. He feels himself drift away, for a while, but Lily's still petting his head and he can't lose himself completely. He shakes his head, wanting to fight it, almost wanting to get away from Lily, but he can't escape the gentleness in her embrace. He still can't cry, but he feels his eyes water and burn anyway, and he shakes his head against Lily's shoulder. He just wants this to be over. Please, he's so exhausted.

His breaths even, despite himself, but Andy keeps shaking, and he keeps shaking his head slightly against Lily. He wants this to end, it has- has to be a nightmare…

"Shh, Andy, don't hold it in, it's okay," Lily says, slowly, sadly, and Andy shakes his head more vigorously. No. He can't be weak right now, it's only going to make it last longer. He needs to end it, can't be done with this until Tom has gotten his goodbyes.

It's the least Andy owes him, now that there's nothing else he can do.

So, he speaks up.

"We should go on," he says, suddenly feeling resolute. It's easier to do this if he has something to focus on. He needs to see this through the end, for Tom. If he thinks only about that...

"Are you sure?" Vance asks, hesitant.

Andy nods, forcing his vision to focus. "He needs to rest."

----------

Everyone's speeches go by in a blur. Vance talks about how good Tom's heart was, how he was willing to drop everything to go help a bunch of strangers, how everyone could always count on him. He cries, and he says he's sorry, and the girls put their arms around him, tell him that he did his best. Imogen brings up how kind he was, and Danni talks about his strength. They really loved him, Andy notices, and feels his heart settle just a little bit. He was loved till the end. Of course he was.

Lucas talks about how supportive Tom was, how he was always uplifting everyone around him and would let Lucas babble on about conservation for hours. Lily brings up how much he believed in her and supported her when she was making her videogames. Ava says that Tom was the only one who ever saw her looking up Westchester's history and cults and just… Sat down with her and helped, understanding that she needed this to feel safe, to feel ready, and sharing that burden of getting ready for a disgrace, just a little bit. Andy never knew that Tom had been joining Ava for research. He could've helped with that, too. He could have done a lot of things, if he had paid more attention.

He's left for last, and a part of him wants to be a coward, to stay silent, but that was never his style.

"When Tom had turned into a zombie," he begins, "Redfi- Jane made him hurt me. And I wasn't worried for myself. I was worried for him. I wanted him back, no matter what it took, no matter what happened to me," he begins, not looking at anyone in particular, because he knows most of them already know this story, but he's not going to- he's not going to deny Tom the chance to know how he felt about him, before he rests. It's the least Andy owes him.

So, he takes a deep breath and goes on, pushing himself into saying something that matters.

"Then our friends showed up, and they said that Tom was still there. That I had to reach out to him. So I tried. I talked to him about our childhood. About how much he had been supporting me… How he was my best friend. He was hesitant, but so… Scared. I didn't know what to do. Tom and I always got each other..." He loses himself a little, shaking his head, purging the thoughts that were keeping him from going on, "And then someone said, 'Andy's hurt. H-he needs help'." He loses focus for a second, and that can't happen. He takes a breath, tries to make himself talk. "And just like that… Tom came back.

"He extended his hand to me, and helped me to my feet, and suddenly there was color in his face again, and for a second he wasn't even confused as to what the hell was going on, he just wanted to make sure I was okay. He came back because I needed him. Because he couldn't bear to hurt me. He was always there for me, and I… I don't think I ever needed him more than right now."

He stops a minute, to look at the faces surrounding him. There's a grief in them that looks almost like… Pity.

And Andy isn't even mad about it. He feels pitiful.

"I'm not the best guy with words," he admits, "so I don't know how to express how much this meant to me, or how much Tom meant to me. No one understood me like him. Tom is… Was… No, is a part of me. Maybe the best part of me, because I loved him more than anything else about myself. I'll miss him for the rest of my life." He looks down at Tom's grave, carved out of anything else to say. "I love you, buddy."

It's not the greatest speech that's ever been given, but it's what he can say, and at least he's done it. He'll be able to do better, later. He'll come back to talk to him again. As many times as he can, for as long as he can. He swears on that.

Andy steps back from the grave, and doesn't look as they slowly fill it, covering the closed casket with dirt. He finally allows himself to let the exhaustion catch up with him, and is overcome by that blissful, blissful emptiness.

---------

He's fully expecting himself to drop asleep as soon as they get to Ava's place. They decided to stay there for the night, because Andy still doesn't want to face his mom, to see that same grief in her, for her to want to talk to him, to tell him that everything would be fine. He can't do that, not today. At least Lucas had enough foresight to warn her of where they are, so she should leave him alone for now. Lucas is very reliable in a crisis, Andy thinks, making a note to himself to thank him properly later.

But he can't sleep. He's too exhausted to even rest. And for some reason, even though he doesn't want to talk, that's exactly what he found himself doing for the past few hours. Vomiting up all sorts of memories and thoughts, ranging from funny moments he had with Tom to all of his regrets, and Andy's always been kind of a stress-talker, but it's never been like this. He feels like he's been skinned alive; there's nothing to hold himself together, to hold anything at all in.

He cries all the tears he didn't think he had left in him anymore, and he curses himself, and the guy who left them in the end, and Noah, and the Power, and the cult, and himself again. He scratches his own skin until Lucas gently takes his hands in his, stopping him from doing more of it. And he talks, through all of that. Talks and talks and talks.

The words make him drift through memories, through states of mind, and he knows he's so damn volatile today, it's like he can't anchor himself to a feeling, but his friends put up with him anyway.

Finally, he starts to settle into this sort of… Slowness, like his mind is clear, or maybe blank, even as he keeps on thinking. And he keeps talking through it, letting all the minor regrets have their turn after he's too damn done to keep dealing with the worst parts.

"I never told him I was in love with him," Andy says, staring at the three empty mattresses in front of him, because it's easier than looking at any of his friends, who are currently sitting right beside him, as he babbles on. "I was going to, you know? After R- Jane. I had almost died, so I figured, you know- yolo, and all that. And then I told myself, 'I'll wait until I'm out of the hospital.' And then I started to think… What if he didn't feel the same way? What if things got weird? What if I end up losing him? And I never told him," he looks at his own feet, "and now I lost him anyway."

They all just look at him. They used up all the "I'm sorry, Andy"s left in them a long time ago, he thinks. There's only so many platitudes you can muster up when you know they're worthless, when you're just repeating yourself.

God bless them for trying, though. They're sticking with him through their own- everyone's inadequacy to deal with what's going on. Andy can't thank them enough for that.

"He knew you loved him," Ava says, serious, and Andy frowns at her, doubtful. "He might not have known you were in love with him, but… He knew how much he meant to you. I'm sure of it."

Andy laughs, humorless, "did you finally get those mind reading powers you wanted?" he says. It falls flat, but they pretend it doesn't, for his sake.

Ava rolls her eyes. "Don't be an ass, Kang," she says. "No. I just… I can tell. Anyone can."

Andy bites his lip, looking away.

She presses on, as gently as she can. "Besides, you also know, don't you? Regardless of anything else… Tom loved you, just as much as you loved him."

"I still love him," Andy says, before he can think about it, and a weird kind of shame creeps up on him - for saying it, for not saying it sooner, for realizing that this… It'll probably never go away, even now that it's completely pointless, that it's just proof of his cowardice.

"That's… Normal," Lily says, fiddling a little with her sweater. "You don't forget someone just like that, just because something happened. I mean, look at me and Britney. It took me years to get over her, and even then, I had to have supernatural forces show me exactly who she was, first."

"She didn't deserve you," Ava says.

"Maybe not. It doesn't matter now," Lily says. "The point is… It's okay to still love him."

Andy hugs his knees. "I don't think anything is okay, right now."

"That's okay, too."

They stay in silence for a moment, and then Lucas speaks up. "I know 'it gets better' stories don't really help at times like these," he says, "so I won't tell you that, but… I know what it's like, to feel like nothing will ever be okay, ever be enough. So… At least you're not alone, in that feeling."

Andy's mouth does something. It's not a smile, but it's what it can do right now. "Yeah. At least it's not like last time," he says. "With Jane. We all fell apart, and… It felt really lonely, even though..." He chokes up. "I had Tom."

Lucas rubs at Andy's shoulder sadly, and Andy shakes his head.

"It's just that he didn't get it, you know? And I couldn't tell him, about what happened," he says, instead of thinking about how much worse this is, no matter how many friends he has by his side right now. "So I… Missed you guys." He finishes, ashamed.

"We get it," Ava says, solemn. "And we're sticking with you, this time around."

"Yeah," Lucas agrees.

"Yeah," Lily adds.

"Okay," Andy answers. "I… Thanks."

They hug him tighter. It's all they have to say.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 15 - Net Zero Change

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, what’s the truth?, 2.9k

@trevor-wilson-covington​ is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention, swearing

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

Alex, Reggie, Flynn and Kyle all sat at a table inside the record store while Willie took care of closing procedures, currently sweeping up around them. Flynn sipped on her soda, eyeing everyone else with a mix of piqued interest and uncertainty.

“I can let you guys stay and talk for about another half hour, but then I’ve gotta kick you out,” Kyle told the three at the table.

“Thanks,” Alex said. “We really appreciate you being so understanding.”

“Not at all,” Kyle said casually. “And Willie’s in the clear, so long as he never pulls a stunt like that again.”

“Thanks for covering for me, man,” Willie said repentantly at Kyle’s rightfully miffed tone.

“I also covered the cost for that jacket, so you owe me for that.”

Alex looked at him, still unable to wrap what had just happened around his head. Climbing somewhere high and screaming felt like an ideal thing to do right then. He wasn’t angry - at least, he didn’t think so - but he still felt like a bottle of Coke that someone had just shaken and dropped a Mento into. His punching bag was already being worn down enough, but since he didn’t have his drums at home it had been a lifesaver recently.

There was Willie, right in front of him, like a miracle. He was so wonderfully unaware of everything, and there was no doubt he hadn’t forgotten Alex. It brought a strange sense of euphoria that battled everything else that had kept his mind dark for so long. He’d used to imagine running into Willie, even for a while after Caleb said he was gone, and thought he’d be the one to catch Willie off guard and rush toward him with joy. Mostly, he’d wanted to knock Willie off his board as slight payback for that one time, but also because it would’ve been satisfying to surprise him for once.

Kyle had gotten up from the table and joined Willie in closing up the store.

“So, you guys all know each other, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Flynn exclaimed. “And I’d like to think that it’s all thanks to me,” she added smugly.

“How so?” Reggie asked in curiosity.

“I helped Willie get into Julie’s concert in Vegas,” she said. “And I’m the reason you two stuck around here.”

Alex looked at her in surprise. Without Flynn, he imagined going with Willie to the Stratosphere or anything else that night wouldn’t have happened. He owed her a serious favor; he wasn’t going to forget that.

“Are you sure you don’t have, like, magic powers or something?” Reggie asked.

Flynn only smiled and quietly sipped her soda again, keeping the mystique for herself.

As Willie disappeared into the kitchen to clean there, Alex looked at Reggie.

“So, do you have as many questions as I do?” he asked.

“Yeah, man,” Reggie said, peeking back toward the kitchen door. “I mean, does Caleb not know?”

“For someone out of the loop,” Flynn butted in. “What’s going on?”

Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took in a deep breath. “So you know how we got signed?”

Flynn nodded. “Uh huh. And congratulations, by the way.”

Alex merely shrugged in acknowledgement.

“Well, the guy who owns the label used to be Willie’s caretaker.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Reggie muttered. Alex suddenly felt a little guilty for missing that detail when talking with the guys.

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to mention it,” he apologized. “Anyway, the day that we signed on, Caleb personally told me that Willie had died in a fire.”

Flynn stared in disbelief.

“Wow,” she said. “That’s fishy.”

“No kidding,” Reggie commented. “But why would he do that? Caleb’s been nothing but good to us.”

“You guys should be careful. He was Willie’s guardian? If his story is that far off, I’d watch out.”

Peering over toward the kitchen, Alex couldn’t get a view of Willie at all. He was dying to hear his side of things.

“I guess we’ll have to see. Flynn, how are you getting home?”

“Oh, I was just gonna take the bus.”

“With your equipment?” he said, already worried. It was a lot for her to be lugging around, whether she could carry it alone or not. “Flynn, let us get you a taxi.”

She looked at him, and he expected her to protest and say she could handle herself. To his surprise, she simply huffed.

“You’re right. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, and one of us could go with you to make sure you get home safe.”

“I’ll go,” Reggie volunteered. He glanced at Alex and it was clear he was giving him an opportunity.

“Thanks Reggie,” Flynn said. “You guys have gotta keep me updated with everything going on, though. I smell drama. A lot of it.” She finished the last few gulps of her soda and stood up to grab her gear.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, man,” Reggie murmured to Alex, patting him as he rose to help her out.

“See you.”

As he watched them make their way outside, Alex sighed.

“So, Vegas, huh?” Kyle said as he reentered the room, making him jump.

“Uh, yeah,” Alex replied warily. This guy seemed fairly nice, but he could never be too careful about how much he told strangers. He watched him dust the shelves, trying to relax in his seat.

“Willie doesn’t talk about it much, so I’m kinda surprised he had such a reaction tonight. I got the idea he hated the place.”

Puzzled, Alex didn’t respond immediately. He wondered what could’ve happened.

“Well, I’m sure he has his reasons. But when I met him we had a pretty good time.”

“Hmm,” was all that Kyle said as he looked into space thoughtfully before moving on to locking things up.

Alex realized then that he was the only customer left in the store and he’d simply let his friends leave him. His head was certainly not on straight. The time was nearly midnight, and the options of transportation and his experiences with them only dialed up his anxiety. Busses were just weird because everyone could watch him, taxis were expensive and he’d given most of his cash to Reggie, and the chances of having Bobby pick him up were very low.

“Hey,” Willie was standing over him, skateboard in hand. Alex looked up, startled once again, but the feeling of Willie’s hand on his shoulder softened it.

“Hey.”

“Where did Reggie go?”

“Oh,” Alex started. “He’s making sure Flynn gets home safe.”

Nodding, Willie glanced outside.

“What about you?”

Alex rose with a sigh.

“I’ll figure something out.”

They left the store and slowly walked to the corner. Willie still gripped his board as he gazed up at the red hand on the opposite side of the street.

“Do you...wanna walk with me to my place?” he asked Alex. “‘Cuz you look like you want to talk. Then we can find you a way home.”

Sticking his tongue in his cheek, Alex eyed him thoughtfully. It was almost like they hadn’t just spent four months apart - Willie could read him like a book.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Unfortunately, that made him stuff his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. He’d let himself take Willie’s hand before and have high hopes because he’d let himself ignore reality back then. Even when the guy who he admittedly still had a crush on was back from the dead, Alex didn’t want to tempt fate again. As they both crossed the street, he felt himself hunch inward just as he had earlier with Reggie.

“So, I’m guessing it’s a little weird to see me, since you thought I was a goner and everything,” Willie started nervously.

“Dead,” Alex said, looking at him seriously. “You were dead.”

Willie slowed his pace and sucked in a breath.

“Yeah.”

For a few yards they didn’t speak. Something ate at Alex’s insides, and he couldn’t put a finger on it. Change had always been his worst enemy, but this was a good change. Willie was alive, then he was dead, and now he was back. It should’ve been like net zero change, cancelled out like math. He should be fine about this, right? Why was he not fine?

“Alex, are you...are you mad?” Willie dared to ask.

He paused in his tracks, arms slacking against his sides. Looking over at Willie, then down at the sidewalk again, he nodded.

“Yeah, actually.” Immediately the eating feeling worsened. “I don’t know why that is, but you’re right. I am kinda mad.”

Willie furrowed his brow, but remained quiet for a minute as they continued walking.

“Are you mad at me?” he wondered aloud, finally.

“Maybe?” Alex said, feeling the temperature in his veins rise the more he went on. “That sounds silly, I know, because it wasn’t you who lied to me and put me through absolute agony for weeks on end. You were just the person I thought was dead and so every time I thought about you, it hurt. I don’t even know why it hurt so much. It’s not supposed to hurt when you’re still practically a stranger to me. All I know is that we kind of liked each other and then I thought I’d never find out anything else. I mean, we only knew each other for one day. One fucking day. That was it!”

Alex saw Wilie flinch at the unexpected use of language. A little too late, he realized he should’ve been more gentle. While it was true that he needed to finally release more than just self-pity, it wasn’t worth making Willie miserable for it.

“Wow,” Willie murmured. It already sounded more wounded than Alex could bear.

“That was harsh; I shouldn’t have blown up like that.”

He looked over at Willie to be sure he hadn’t done too much damage already.

“I can’t imagine how awful that was,” Willie said simply.

The pressure that had heated up his veins rapidly began to cool down as Alex realized he was handling this all wrong. He’d momentarily lost control and already saw its potential for harm.

“It’s not you I’m mad at. It’s Caleb.”

“That makes two of us,” Willie told him. “You want to know what really happened?”

“I want to know everything.”

They continued walking along as Willie seemed to try summing up the past few months properly in his mind.

“I don’t know exactly where to start,” he said.

“Well, why don’t you start where we left off?” Alex suggested. It was only fitting that one of them was walking the other home, just like they’d been doing the last time they’d seen each other. There was a funny sense of poetry to it.

“Okay,” Willie began. “I guess what really started it was when we were up on the Stratosphere, remember?”

“Uh huh.”

“I told you that I have amnesia because I had a memory come back.”

“Right, about your dad.”

“You remember this really well,” Willie commented. Alex bowed his head, feeling his lip curl the tiniest bit. “Anyway, I started drawing the things I remembered. And I mean, I drew every detail I could. Even though back then it was just the one about my dad and then the first time that I ran away from Caleb - ”

“Wait, what?” Alex blurted.

Willie cocked his head to the side as he tried to keep the narrative easy to follow.

“Oh yeah that was weird, I had this dream where everything was backwards and it happened like every night and it took me forever to figure out that it was a memory. Anyway, the reason I have amnesia right now? I was trying to run from Caleb because he was a total a-hole and then I got hit in the head!”

Alex looked at his casual expression with mild horror.

“That’s a lot to process,” he said slowly.

“Yeah, I guess he was putting on a face after that, because he didn’t really get nasty until right before I left him for good.”

By the time Willie finished dishing everything to Alex, they had been standing by his front door for a solid ten minutes. Alex could only stand there and let everything turn over in his mind like a taffy pull. Moreover, a pit of dread was forming in his stomach at the same time as a spark of joy grew in his chest.

“So...Harrison Ford?” he said.

Willie smiled. “Much cooler than Han Solo.”

“I still can’t believe you were literally planning to skate your way here. Even I would’ve ruled that out after a minute.”

Lifting a hand defensively, Willie opened his mouth but couldn’t find words.

“I - I will never live that down,” he chuckled.

Alex chuckled in turn. “No.”

For a moment he just looked at Willie. It was the first time that night where his vision wasn’t clouded with questions or overwrought with mixed emotions. This time, it was just as he’d seen him that first moment when they’d sat across from each other at the diner. That was ages ago, but it didn’t seem to have dimmed or faded one bit in Alex’s memory. Here, he was just Willie. It was so nice to see that again.

“What made you come to LA?” he asked. He shuffled his feet awkwardly. 

“You did.” Willie looked right into his eyes as he said it.

The words were plain and honest. Something swelled in Alex’s chest as he heard them. If anyone else had said that - the guys, Julie, even his sister Abby - he would’ve doubted it a little. That was the awful thing with his anxiety is that it immediately twisted everyone’s words into betrayal. Not Willie’s, though.

“Why me?”

Willie got thoughtful, eyes unfocused for a moment.

“I don’t know. I’d do anything for you,” he said, gazing back up at Alex again.

Alex shifted his weight.

“Because I helped you start regaining memories, right?”

It made sense that if he’d been in that position, the person who’d been with him in those moments would mean a great deal to him, too.

“No,” Willie said. “Just ‘cuz. I still like you.”

Alex blinked and his mind emptied of all thought - a feat he’d never imagined occurring. Soon he found himself caught looking into those brown eyes, and instead of wanting to throw in a line, he wished he could plant himself there and spread roots. If it were up to him, he had no desire to go back home and he would just stay happy where he was.

It took a while to realize that he’d slowly begun to lean forward, lips parted as he gazed down at Willie’s mouth. Their noses were just barely not touching, and they hung in the balance waiting for the other to cross that threshold. Willie looked vaguely hypnotized, if not a little indecisive. His thoughts finally caught up to his actions, and once Alex saw what he was doing he turned away.

Dammit, how could you mess that up, Alex? he berated himself. He was already so out of focus and not thinking about the consequences of his actions; he couldn’t go around treating Willie like something else to dump his turmoil upon. Clearing his throat, he straightened his posture. Willie nervously ran a hand through his hair, visibly confused.

“So....” Alex began awkwardly. “You have your own place?”

Willie nodded, not looking him in the eyes anymore.

“Yeah, it’s kinda nice,” he said plainly. “You’ll have to check it out one of these days. You could see Sheldon, too.”

“Yes,” Alex said quickly. “Yes, I would totally be down to come see you and Sheldon. That would be great.”

He hated that the natural cadence in his voice was so sarcastic sometimes. Right now, it didn’t sound genuine at all and he desperately wanted to convey how much he meant every word.

“Bet you’re sort of busy with the band and school and all, though,” Willie said, clearly a little despondent. Alex really wanted to go back and fix the moment they’d had before. He wasn’t making it any better.

“Well, I’m free all next Saturday. You’re not working, are you?”

“I can arrange things with Kyle to get covered. I’m usually on his good side and he doesn’t stay mad for long, so I’m not worried.”

“That’s good.” A pause. “So it’s okay if I come on Saturday?”

“Sure, sure,” Willie rushed to say. “I’m totally down for that. Uh...I just remembered that we’ve gotta get you back home. Did you know how you were gonna do that?”

“Uh yeah, I was gonna just catch the bus,” Alex said, entirely impromptu. After embarrassing himself so badly with Willie, he could override any fears about using public transportation. All he wanted to do was lift his hood over his head and pull the strings so it closed over his face.

“Got it,” Willie replied.

“But I’ll be excited to see you next Saturday,” Alex added. He saw Willie’s eyes light up a little and it made him smile in relief as he began stepping away from Willie’s door. Biting his lip in his usual cute manner, Willie nodded at him.

“See you then.”

Alex exhaled in excitement as he made his way up the steps to the street, barely able to take his eyes off Willie. Only when he couldn’t see him anymore did he force himself to turn away.

[writingsfromhome]

Josslyn

Request: Harry imagine based off the song Josslyn by Olivia O'Brien?

A/N: This was in my inbox for a while, but I finally finished it! It got a little long but I really wanted to set up a backstory. Hope it’s what you wanted! :)

Part 2

————————————————————-

My leg bounces under the table, eyeing everyone walking through the door until my best friend Regan walks in. The first day back to school always felt like hell on earth. It would be more unbearable if my best friend didn’t have the same homeroom as me.

“I want to die,” she drops into the seat in front of mine and turns around. “Like literally. I can’t wait to be done with this dump.”

“We just do it all over again in uni,” My stomach turns remembering what our final year meant. I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life and I had to choose this year. It was a scary thought.

“At least there’ll be more freedom, I won’t be living with my crazy family, and,” she pauses ticking each item on her fingers, and wiggles her eyebrows. “All the hot guys.”

“Is somebody talking about me?”

We turn and Harry Styles, class jock, stands above us with a pencil behind his ear and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“If we were, you would’ve heard ‘major douchebag loser’,” Regan rolls her eyes. I give Regan a look like what an idiot and she ignores him to continue on about her dream school. As hard as I concentrate though, I’m too aware of Harry walking around and settling into the seat behind me.

It had happened, over the summer-we had hooked up. I can’t say it was a shining time for me, I also didn’t reqret it quite as much as one might think.

It was at a party I was invited to while Regan was visiting her grandparents in New Jersey and I was getting lonely. He’d cornered me, made me feel less alone. The hookup lasted a week, before we were off, and then another two weeks in August. I quit him-like a habit-the week before school started.

I confessed to Regan, she’d warned me to avoid him during the year if I wanted to have a decent final year. So I didn’t know if him showing up in the first hour of senior year was a good sign or an omen.

“You girls have a good summer?” Harry asks behind me. Regan locks eyes with me-she would handle it.

“You’re sort of interrupting our conversation here. Maybe you should find a new seat if you wanted to make friends.”

A small laugh escapes me, I couldn’t help it.

“Y/N,” Harry calls me out. “Have you forgotten how to talk or you’re getting shy on me?”

I turn around, he was way too smug. “Regan’s said it perfectly, why do you need me to talk.”

“Just making sure you could,” his eyes flash with humour before he says casually: “I wasn’t sure if you’d worked your mouth too hard this summer that it stopped working or something.”

My jaw drops and I hear Regan gasp.

“Yeah, like that.” Harry points to my open mouth and it takes everything in me not to slap him. But then he does a strange thing, his mocking smile softens into a genuine one. His eyes crinkling like we were on the ins of a joke and the angry flame softens at the curve of his smile.

There was this one weekend where his parents had left town and we’d spent the whole time just binging bad movies, under covers, learning every inch of each other. I never thought it would be a calming feeling waking up and seeing Harry’s sleeping face on the pillow next to me but I had stared at it for what felt like an hour until I’d poked him awake and he’s just pulled me in to sleep longer.

“You’re disgusting,” I tell him now, but it doesn’t have the same rage it would have last year. He’d worn me down, and I know he only liked to wind me up because he thought it was hot. He’d said as much over the summer.

I turn just as our teacher walks in and class begins. Harry gets in trouble for talking to his friends, I ignore the note he throws my way, we’re told it’s the most important year in our life thus far and I almost fall asleep halfway. Just a typical day of high school.

***

It was near the end of the first week, already I had an essay and a project due in two weeks and a thousand pages of math. I was just happy it was Friday and Regan and I were going to do our regular end-of-the-week detox: Starbucks and driving around town.

“Don’t hate me,” Regan says as I approach her car. “But Adam just invited me with his friends to the mall and I know we were supposed to hang out but this is maybe the first time he actually looked me in the eye and talked to me so-“

“It’s okay,” I interrupt her even though I was bummed. “You’ve been trying to get him to notice you all year so...finally! we’ll hang out over the weekend.”

Regan hugs me. “Really? You’re okay? You could come with us. Or I can drop you home first...”

“I can take the bus,” I insist. “We rode the bus last year remember?”

“Ugh, too soon,” Regan shakes her head. “I’ll make it up to you I promise. He’s calling now I’ll see ya!”

I wave her off and begin the slow walk to the bus stop, thinking of things I could do tonight by myself. Someone whistles to my right and I look up. Harry waves his hand, standing by his car. My face flushes as I remember the things that went on in that back seat.

“Where’s a pretty girl like you going all alone?” Harry shouts. I sigh and walk up to him.

“Do you ever realise how predatory you sound?”

“I’m king of the jungle,” he gestures to the school. “Why wouldn’t I sound predatory.”

I cover my face, “Omg please shut up Harry do you even hear yourself? You’re such a-an-ugh!”

“Hey,” his hand peels mine off of my eyes and he holds it in his grip as he walks backwards until his back hits his car, pulling me along. “What’s the matter with you? Didn’t we have fun this summer-why do you act like you hate me?”

His honesty shuts me up. “I-I don’t. I never said I hated you.”

“You sure act like it,” he crosses his arms. “You ignore me in homeroom, roll your eyes every time I say something...”

“We had a fling Harry, we’re not dating each other.” I shrug, trying to tug my hand away from Harry but he holds tight. “There’s nothing more to it. And to be honest...you’ve always been kind of annoying.”

“You’re kind of annoying,” Harry smiles again, tugging my sleeve to bring me closer. I don’t even resist moving into his orbit and settling between his outstretched legs as his arms wrap around my waist.

The truth was being with Harry was nice. He was a cocky jerk who knew he was desirable but when I was with him all the noise in my head died down for a bit and I existed in the present. That’s how he lived: for the now. And even though we were only more than friends and less than together forever, we had something between us. I just had to make sure my heart didn’t get caught up in between it. I’d had too many guys break my heart like I’d told Harry about one day when he’d driven us to a beach and we’d spent most of the day laying in the sun. Something about being there made me open up. He’d said he didn’t want to hurt me like the boys before. So we’d kept things light.

“You have any plans tonight?” Harry asks, his eyes shamelessly on my lips. I feel the familiar flutter in my stomach. Even though Harry would get with any body with boobs, it still felt nice to be looked at like this. By him.

“Not anymore,” I say. “Regan cancelled last minute so-“

“You’re free?” Harry sounds happy. I nod and he lets me go to move to the passenger door. “Get in, where do you want to go?”

“I...” I move to the car and sit inside, I told myself-and Regan-this wouldn’t happen and yet. It was. But Regan did ditch me for Adam so, maybe this was just the alternative. “Regan and I usually just grab drinks and drive around with music on.”

“Can I drive you somewhere?” Harry asks. I smile, of course.

***

Harry ends up taking me to a drive-in theatre. I’d never been to one and the excitement is all over my face. “It’s exactly like the old photos!” I squeal as he leans over and pushes my seat back. He does the same to his. “Have you been here before?”

“My family used to come here when we younger,” Harry smiles. I grin back at him and soon we’re locked in a staring contest because neither of us can look away. I open my mouth to say something but Harry moves forward, cupping my face to pull me to him. All common sense flies out the window as I get lost in his kiss. I tug at his hair the way he likes it and he presses me against the door as he kisses me harder, the handle jabbing my back but I didn’t even care. I’d missed Harry even though it had only been a week. His hands roam lower and lower until they stop as someone knocks on his window.

“Hello!” A muffled voice shouts from his window. We force each other apart. Harry looks at me with a drunken look on his face-eyes half lidded, a lopsided smile...and I’m sure I looked the same. We check who was at his door and it’s the girl bringing us our snacks.

“Harry?” She says as we roll down the window.

“Uh-oh-oh hey, Josslyn right? Long time!”

Harry grabs the drinks from...Josslyn, who looked familiar, and passes them to me to put in the dashboard holder we’d received when we entered. I keep an eye on the interaction as Josslyn goes from professional to flirty in under a second.

“Uh yeah because you never responded to any of my messages over the summer! How have you been? You look so good!”

“Yeah I’m good, I didn’t know you worked here?”

“My parents own the thing,” she glances back. “I have to work here when it gets busy.”

“No way,” Harry’s now fully interested in their conversation with his back to me and I feel a little left out. “I used to come here all the time as a kid did your parents own it back then?”

“Yeah! They took over from my grandparents. We definitely saw each other as kids cuz I was here all the time. Like every summer. I know every single lyric to every single summer hit from 1999 to present.”

“That’s impressive,” Harry laughs. I pick at the m&ms off the popcorn, feeling slightly jealous even though it didn’t make sense to be. Harry and I weren’t exclusive or anything, he wasn’t mine and I wasn’t his.

“Well I gotta go get the next order but we should catch up some time,” Josslyn puts her hand on Harry’s arm. “My number’s the same: if you’ve been ignoring my texts like I think you were then you should have it in your phone. Maybe we can recreate old times.”

With a wink, she’s gone and Harry clears his throat as he goes through his phone. His chuckle when he finds her texts irritates me.

“So like, do you have a lot of girls texting you that you just ignore?”

“What?” Harry looks up like he’d forgotten I was even there. “No, we just have some history. The texts were...funny.”

If I was a crazy girlfriend I would’ve demanded to see those texts but I was neither crazy or his girlfriend so I just look forward, kicking off my shoes and folding my legs into myself. I didn’t want to feel this way but I couldn’t help it.

“You’re not jealous are you?” Harry sneaks closer to me, clearly intrigued that I could be. But I don’t give him the satisfaction.

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Right?” He puts his hand on my knee and it tingles. “She doesn’t mean anything anyway. Just someone from the past.”

“Like me someday,” I don’t know what makes me say it. Maybe I was just moody.

He furrows his brow, leaning back in his seat. “Y/N,” I look over at him but he looks like he’s struggling for words. I raise my eyebrow and he holds out his arm. “Come here.”

“Where?” I ask, looking him over. He sighs and in a single move he’s put one arm under my knees and the other around my back as he tries to lift me while seated.

“Harry stop!” I can’t help but laugh as the stick hits my bum, my knees spill the overflow of popcorn, and we knock heads. “What are you doing!”

Harry laughs and motions to me, “Just c’mere!”

I oblige, twisting my body to straddle him in the front seat. I make sure not to lean back-I’d done that in the past and blared the horn. I’d learned since then.

“What?” I ask, pretending to still be upset but the ridiculous move minutes earlier had already washed it away. He moves my hair behind my ear and holds my face above his.

“You’re lovely,” he says and I melt. He knows it.

“I wasn’t jealous,” I mumble as he peppers my neck with kisses, “I just...” the words already slip away from me.

“Mhm,” he hums.

***

“Thanks,” I say to Harry. We’re parked outside my house and we hesitate to leave each other. The movie was fun, Harry was distracting throughout but that just added to the fun.

“Your parents home?” Harry asks innocently.

“Yes,” I roll my eyes. I check the time, it was nearly 11pm. I’d told them I would be home by 10 but I knew they would be asleep so I had pushed my luck. “Where else would they be?”

Harry shrugs, “My parents are out of town again.”

He scratches at a scab on his hand, hiding his face. After spending time with Harry, I knew his parents weren’t around much what with high profile jobs and travelling all over. His house was huge but empty and it made Harry make a little more sense to me then. Right now though, he just wanted to get me in bed.

“I’d invite you in but if you were caught, my funeral would be Sunday.”

“I’d come in a disguise,” Harry reaches for my hand and threads his fingers through it. “And jump into the grave after you, I’d be as dramatic as possible.”

“Harry you’re mistaken,” I say. “Your funeral would be the exact same day.”

Harry laughs and kisses my hand, “Then we’d just find each other in the afterlife yeah?”

I lean towards him and kiss him tenderly, I try to stop myself but it feels like I’m falling and I remember Regan’s words as I cave and sneak him into my room, hushing him as he bumps into every possible piece of furniture. But I forget it all the second we get under covers only to find him gone the next morning with a text promising me coffee on my front porch.

***

“Kiss any hot guys over the weekend?” Harry whispers in my ear Monday morning. It was a couple weeks since I’d snuck him into my room and we had been seeing each other pretty regularly. Harry sat with Regan and I at lunch sometimes despite her glares, and threw me notes often in class that were just bad drawings. But there were days where he would be distant and I would see him flirting with another girl. I would have to scold myself then, even though I was in his bed half the time we never said where we drew the line. Although I felt what I felt, I couldn’t expect any more from him.

This past weekend, Regan and I had driven to a few universities she was interested in and I could potentially be interested in. We’d crashed at a friend’s dorm before driving back Sunday afternoon. It gave me a small thrill that Harry might have been thinking about me kissing other guys even though he didn’t text me once.

“That depends on what you define as a hot guy,” I tease as I turn around but Harry looks annoyed.

“Oh,” he stares. “So you had fun over the weekend?”

His annoyance rubs me the wrong way, he could flirt with people and do whatever he wanted but he was annoyed at a joke? “Lots, not that you would know since you went awol yourself.”

Harry raises a brow but I just shrug and turn to the front. He was probably hanging out with other girls, not that I should care. But when it’s confirmed when Regan shows me the instagram story of someone she follows, I click through and find he was indeed. The picture shows him, a girl from our basketball team, and Josslyn on the beach getting high. My stomach churns for the rest of the day but I don’t dare bring it up. I just tell him we needed a break, maybe the distance would stop the obsession.

***

Harry was throwing one of his parties on Friday. With his parents gone most of the time it was the perfect place to host our class. This morning when he told Regan and I to swing by, I’d lingered behind and we’d made up. I was still nervous about the party, even though Harry and I were on again.

At the party, I hang out with Regan, Adam, and his friends for a bit. I talk to a few other friends and see some unfamiliar face. Harry catches up to me halfway through and apologises.

“I got caught up with everyone,” he says, his words softened with alcohol. I had seen glimpses of him with his friends, seen him flirt with a few girls when he came in but he ended up with me here so I don’t hold onto it.

“That’s okay,” I place my hand without a drink on his chest, feeling the steady heartbeat underneath. “You’re here now.”

He wraps his arms around me, “You’re staying the night right?” He whispers in my ear. It tickles and I giggle.

“As long as you don’t get too drunk.”

“So you won’t help me out if I get too drunk?” He pouts.

I laugh, about to say something but someone comes up to us in our private moment. Josslyn.

“Harry! Thanks for the invite!” Josslyn puts her arms out so Harry lets go of me to give her a hug. I try to wash away the possessive paranoia with my beer but I feel it creeping up. Josslyn glances over at me and I give her a smile.

“Hey,” I say awkwardly.

“Hi! You’re from the drive-in right?”

I was surprised she remembered me considering she didn’t even look at me that day. “Yeah, the same one.”

“Ooh,” she glances between us. “So are you two like dating or something?”

“Uhm...” Harry and I awkwardly look at one another as we try to find the right words. “Not really-“ I start to say as Harry says, “We just hang out...”

“That makes sense,” she flashes her eyes at Harry and I feel more insecure than ever. It reminds me that they did hang out together on the beach, maybe more often than I knew. Harry looks unbothered though. “So I can steal Harry away for a bit? You don’t mind? It’s been a while since we caught up!”

“I don’t own him,” I fake laugh even though I want to shout leave us alone liar!

I watch them leave, a sinking feeling in my stomach as Harry only glances my way before leaving. I stumble from group to group after that, finally locating Regan in a game of beer pong. I cheer her on and almost convince myself I was having fun but I continue to scan the room for Harry. My phone finally buzzes later in the night, Harry was upstairs asking me to come up.

“Harry?” I ask quietly as I knock on his door and peer around the corner. He’s laying on his floor shirtless and his room needs airing out. I sigh and open his window. “Where did you get the weed?”

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Harry says from the floor. “Where were you?”

“I was downstairs, at your party. You disappeared with Josslyn.” I can’t hide the edge in my voice.

“She shared her stash,” Harry says, his voice a low rumble. “We just talked about life.”

“Right, is this all she does?” It seemed Harry and her only ever got high together. “Did you want anything? I was watching Regan win and I’d like to go back if I’m here for no reason.”

“No wait,” he gets up slowly and walks to me, trying to kiss me but I pull away.

“I’m not interested right now Harry,” I push his arms off me. All I knew was he left with Josslyn and ended shirtless on his floor, high and alone. Who knows what they did.

“I was alone this whole time,” Harry tries to convince me. “She left a long time ago.”

“She left that too?” I point to a tanktop draped on his bed.

“That’s....that’s yours?” Harry says.

“Oh right, I forgot what my own fucking clothes look like.”

I stomp to the door but he calls out, “You’re making it a big deal! Nothing happened!”

I didn’t trust that. Not when he lied to my face like that.

***

At school on Monday, Harry tries to talk to me but I ignore him all morning. He forces me into an empty classroom and tries to win me over but I push him away as a teacher walks in and tells us to leave.

“Y/N,” Harry whines. “It’s not a big deal come on! She’s just an old friend!”

“Did you date her?” I demand, finally stopping by my locker.

“No I-we didn’t date. She’s just an old friend.”

“You keep mentioning,” I roll my eyes.

“Because it’s true, babe.” Harry touches my arm. “Listen. Nothing happened.” When I don’t respond he takes it as in invitation to ask if I wanted to do homework at his place after school. I tell him I’d see.

I end up going. We don’t do a lot of homework.

***

A couple weeks go by without a snag, I finally settle into a rythm for senior year and join the basketball team with Regan for our final year. I go over the endless decisions of what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, and on weekends, I would hang out with Harry at his place.

It’s our first game of the season and Regan and I are doing our warmups as we watch the bleachers fill with friends and our rival school.

“Will Harry be here?” Regan asks, although she still didn’t like him she had accepted she would see him from time to time.

“I thought he would. Maybe I should call him.”

I leave the loud gym and duck into the locker room. There’s only two other people, so I shuffle to the side and call Harry.

“Y/N,” he picks up on the fourth ring, he sounds out of breath. “What’s up?”

“Harry,” I say cautiously. “Where are you? I thought you were coming to our first game?”

“Oh shit uh yeah,” he sounds panicked. “I uh can’t-really uhm-.”

I hear a laugh and muffled noise, like Harry had dragged his microphone against his shirt. “Babe I can’t see you right now okay? I’ll swing by at halftime.”

“Oh okay...” before I can say anything he’d hung up. That was weird, unless I was overthinking it. But I remember the muffled noises in the back-he was with someone else.

I slowly put my phone back in my bag and look up, the one girl from my team, I think her name was Valentina. She stays near her locker but she’s obviously listening to my conversation. I don’t think much of it, and head out to find Regan. Screw Harry, we had a game to win.

I take my position as forward and Regan and I exchange fierce looks before smiling. I look around at our rival team, recognising a few from last year. And that’s when I realise why Josslyn looked familiar to me. She stands exactly diagonally from me, already looking at me-I remember her from semi-finals last year.

She narrows her eyes and I do a double take, maybe she was just being friendly competitive. But as the first quarter progresses, she gets aggressive, coming over to my side even when she should be on hers, and making sure to check me as she runs past. I glance at the referree but she doesn’t notice a thing. What was going on?

I ask Regan before the second quarter begins but she hadn’t noticed. She tells me she’d keep an eye out and once the whistle blows for halftime she runs up to me.

“She has it in for you, what did you do to her?” Regan whispers.

“Nothing!” I shout-whisper. “She’s an ‘old friend’ of Harry’s but I don’t know what I did to her...she hates me!”

“She wants to kill you Y/N, I have never-“

“Hey Y/N,” Regan’s interrupted by Harry who finally shows up. I continue drinking my water as he stands there uncomfortably. “Uh, I’m sorry I’m late?”

“Missing the first half isn’t late,” Regan pipes in for me. “It’s missing half the game.”

“Well...sorry for missing half the game,” Harry says but it doesn’t actually sound like he’s sorry. Just on the edge of annoyance. “Could I talk to you alone Y/N?”

I glance at Regan and let her know I was okay. She makes a show of being annoyed and goes to find Adam.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“To say I’m sorry,” Harry says again.

“About?” I raise my eyebrow. There was something he wasn’t telling me, everything about today was off from our phone call to the way Josslyn was attacking me on the court. Speaking of, I glance around and notice her staring at us.

“You know,” Harry doesn’t meet my eye. “Missing your first game and stuff.”

“Okay,” I watch the timer count down our halftime and I needed a water refill. “I’ll catch up with you later. Your ‘old friend’ Josslyn is here if you want to hang out with her!”

Harry stares at me like he’s trying to figure me out, my sarcasm lost on him. I raise my eyebrow which makes him stop. He kisses my cheek and walks to the bleachers. Weird.

***

When we switch sides, Josslyn must’ve negotiated with someone because she stands opposite me.

“Bring it on 15,” Josslyn calls me by my number as we wait for the whistle. She didn’t even know my name.

“Likewise,” I crouch down. “We don’t lose on home turf.”

“Too bad you already lost on home turf,” she says just as the whistle blows and she’s off. My head spins as I try to figure out what she meant and I end up missing a pass. My teammates shoot me a look and I try to focus. But Josslyn continues to taunt me and try to mess with me. By the end of it, we win by three and I gloat as much as I want to.

Until Valentina corners me in the changeroom.

“Hey, Y/N. I know we don’t talk much but can we talk? Girl-to-girl?”

I walk towards the windows and she follows. “What’s up Val?”

“I...don’t know how to say this. I’ve been friends with Harry for a while and Josslyn too...” As soon as I hear the name I realise it was her instagram Regan had shown me. And that’s why she was eavesdropping on the conversation. Her and Josslyn were friends. “...a couple times but you should know she doesn’t care he’s with you. I tried to tell her he had a girlfriend but she said he didn’t? I think they...hang out if you know what I mean.”

My ears ring as I stare at Val, what she’s trying to tell me. I couldn’t believe it, I’d been so stupid. Of course that’s what was going on.

“Thanks,” I say abruptly and turn around to grab my stuff from my locker. Letting Regan know I’d meet her at her car. My mind was heaving as everthing clicked into place. Harry’s party, Val’s stories that weekend I was away, how he had lied to my face...the other voice on the line when he said he couldn’t come to the first half. It was Josslyn. He was with Josslyn.

I’m still in my shorts, only having changed my shirt. But I storm out and find Harry at his car where he said he would be.

“Hey Y/N, where are we celebrat-“

“Josslyn,” I say and Harry shuts up. “You and Josslyn? Really? It’s one thing to do it and another thing to fucking lie to me for weeks!”

“Okay wait, can we talk somewhere-“

“No!” I shove Harry in his chest and he stumbles into his car. “I-I’m such an idiot! Everyone told me this would happen and I thought okay, he’s a player and a flirt but at least he doesn’t lie! But you lie like the truth is a chore, you’re scum just like everyone said you were!”

“Wait!” Harry shouts as I leave. “You can’t be this angry with me, it didn’t mean anything! And we aren’t even together Y/N!”

“You’re really playing that card?” I spin around. “We never drew the line but read the fucking signs Styles, I thought we made it clear how we felt. You didn’t even care at all did you?”

I ignore what he says and head back, towards Regan’s car to wait for her. People in the lot stare but I don’t care. And to make it worse, I walk past a group of the other team on my way to Regan’s car and Josslyn is one of them. She smirks and I want to strangle her.

“I told you you’d already lost,” she says as I shoot her a dirty look.

“It’s not called losing when he was never worth having,” I stick up my middle finger and use my rage to propel me the rest of the way without breaking down. As soon as I sit in Regan’s car, I break down. She doesn’t say anything, just turns up the music and we go for a drive.

***

Harry tries to speak to me. Through text or calls, he tries to pass me notes and tap my shoulder but Regan offers to switch seats and I accept it. I was torn between feeling absolutely nothing and wanting to cry into a tub of ice cream. Mostly I was angry, at Harry but also myself.

After practice on Thursday, I walk towards the bus stop with my gym bag bouncing off my knees. Regan couldn’t make practice so I didn’t have a ride, but I didn’t mind-I could use the time to clear my head....Until the very person I was trying to clear away falls into step with me. Harry.

“Y/N can we talk? You’re avoiding me and I feel really bad about what happened I just want to talk.”

“Nothing to talk about,” I pick up my pace.

“I’m sorry okay? I fucked up but we were never an item Y/N! We never said what we were. It didn’t mean anything with Joss.”

He hits the nail on the head, the same thing I was angry at myself about. I try to continue my steely silence but I couldn’t, not with the way he says her name.

“I know that Harry, we never said where we drew the line, but I’m sure you read the signs. You knew what we had was different. But I guess you had to go and ruin it just so you could get a quick fuck and I’m sure you had fun doing it too so I’ll leave you to her. I don’t care anymore.”

“Y/N wait don’t say that! Don’t give up on us! It-it wasn’t like that! I didn’t know...wait!” Harry falls behind as I continue speed walking but he catches up at the bus shelter. There’s no one else waiting so it’s hard to ignore him.

“Y/N, it just happened. I didn’t mean to hurt you, it just happened.”

I snort, not amused in the least. “You were hanging out with her whenever we were off, maybe when we were on too. It was bound to happen,” I turn and watch for the bus so I didn’t have to look at his face, “those things don’t just happen. They don’t.”

“Okay listen, we can take a break. If you want space I can give that to you. I hate fighting, Y/N you mean something to me. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I’m thinking now just please. I never said it before but you mean a lot to me, you’re different Y/N...I’m different around you and I-well I-“

“Harry,” I force him to stop. I didn’t want him to say the words out of desperation. Not like this. Not from him. I see the bus off in the distance, finally. “Harry you act like you’re the victim but you hurt me, you lied to me like telling the truth was a chore to you. You’re right though. I was never yours. I don’t want to fight...I just never wanna talk again.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something just as the bus pulls up. I turn to face him once more.

“Don’t call me, what we had...whatever is was, is over.” I turn as the doors open but not before saying: “I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn.”

His mouth opens in disbelief, the same mouth I used to dream about when it wasn’t kissing me, and be consumed by when it was. The person I knew would ruin me but I thought might turn out different. The guy I toed a line with but will never cross. Especially not anymore.

I flash my card to the bus driver and hoist my bag onto my shoulder as I shuffle further into the bus. My legs ache from practice and my stomach rumbles as I sit. This was senior year, it’d been fun but this was my future. Harry wasn’t the kind of guy who was ever going to be in my future.

As the bus groans and moves forward, I look out the window. Harry sits at the bus stop with his head in his hands, maybe this was a turning point for him. Maybe he was going to change. Maybe he wasn’t. But I couldn’t stick around to find out. I decided I was going to move on, and leave him in the dust with his Josslyn.

[g-lbertblythe]

Television Heaven // Rafe Cameron

Summary: As the each day passes, you fall for Rafe Cameron solemnly and irretrievably.

A/N: This song made me think of Rafe. Actually, I was thinking of Rafe then I started to listen to this one. Anyway, I was planning on something different but it got out of control. So it has really nothing to do with the song. Hope you enjoy anyway.

It might contain grammar and spelling mistakes cuz it's not my native language.

Every move you made, you made after long considerations, with caution. You questioned every little detail, calculating every probable outcome so strictly, sometimes you end up missing the chance to carry it into action. Just because you didn't want to find yourself in a situation that would make you embarrass and hurt yourself or just would make you feel something, you always choose the right and short way to do things. The logical one but the one no flowers grow. You held yourself back when you encountered with something so beautiful that may change your life, you just refused it, ignored it because you wouldn't know what to do with it. You ran away from anything in sight that may make you an idiot for doing it or make you weak, helpless; therefore you stayed away from anything unsolvable, complicated even. You didn't know everytime you ran away, you come closer the edge of falling apart. You've lived your life so guardedly, you've actually never lived. You come to understand that you never made any effect on your life, never pushed the buttons of the controlling panel of your life although you always tried to keep everything on your control. You didn't make things happened, things only happened to you. The day you became aware of this ugly truth, you also discovered a hole inside you. A hole which you use to suffocate any heavy, intense sensation you might feel. Now, it was the one taking control of you.

Lately, everyone around you was able to notice that something's wrong with you. Changed, you looked like you were fading away. You were disappearing more and more, the each day you realize the things you didn't do or things you wanted to say but never said. Because any time you don't say what you wanna say, you die a little. And you died very. Reminiscing the moments you stole from yourself pushed you an edge and you were standing the very edge, unsteady. One day you lose your balance, you start falling and you've been falling since.

The strong liquor on your lips never dried, you kept sipping one after another. You were never drunk on life before, you might actually get drunk at least. You were tired of filling your glass constantly, you left the glass on Camerons' table and head for the bottle.

"Are you okay?" Kiara asks hesitantly. She noticed something was off recently but she didn't think it will last this long. Normally nothing would affect you so long. But now, something in your eyes was missing and she didn't know what was it. She wanted to help you but didn't know how because you never needed any help before.

"Yeah, " you smiled to her slightly so she could see you can still do it and it was okay. The problem was your lips and your eyes didn't match. "You?"

She just nodded as an answer but the suspicions she had was still there. She didn't want you to be alone so when you refused to hang out at the beach with the rest of the gang, she came with you to the kitchen. But you knew, she wanted to be out there so you should gett her off the hook.

"Hey, " you said to draw her attention. "Let's head outside. I am bored here sitting."

"You sure?" She asked. "You wanted to come inside?"

You smiled, forcibly, lately every smile you gave was like that. "Yes. It turned out to be a bad idea. "

"Okay, " she said when she got up, you had to also. She was ready to walk away before you stopped her. "I'm going to hit the bathroom first. You go. "

She looked at you unsurely. "I'll wait."

You laughed, you were a little lightheaded from standing up swiftly but you didn't drink enough to get drunk yet. But she thought you were. You wished you were too. "I can pee just okay without you waiting, Kie. Tell them I'm coming and determined to drink whatever out there."

Eventually, she ended up leaving you and as soon as she was gone, you let yourself fall on the sofa again. You just needed few minutes before you head outside.

The Pogues have started becoming the huge part of your life not so long ago. You think the awareness hit you just after you met them because they were the most animated people you've met. They were full of spirit although some of their lives weren't always bed of roses, still they managed the find attraction and beauty in other things. You admired them before, now you envied.

The cold hit you as soon as you stepped outside but you liked feeling the breeze on your bare arms. The cold was all you feel anyway. You knew exactly where your friends at, before worrying Kiara any longer, you made your way to them before you saw of a guy that one beer bottle in his hand and the other hand in his pocket. Watching your friend from afar. You pushed the urge of considering if you should go near him or not. You were going because you didn't go so many times before.

"Hey, " you let him know of your arrival. His upper body moves to face you only to see you looking at him with your unfinished bottle on your hand. He turned back to keep watching his sister and the junk she brought along with her. He never ever liked them and he never will but he had to behave because his father told him to. Rafe could only behave himself to a certain extent. He tried to stop himself making their life like hell but failed so many times that you forgot how many times you had to stop himself from hurting your new friends. He was mad at Sarah bringing them into your lives and he was mad at you for joining in this quest and defying him about this matter. You knew Rafe felt like the Pogues were the ones blame for everything that goes wrong in his life and almost anything he does and and he has goes wrong. Yet he was almost sure they were guilty of everything that happened. He had a temper and an addiction that makes it worse. He was confused and lost in so many ways, he was all over the place. Regarding the fact he wants do right by his family, friends and by you, he always and always ends up doing the worst of there is. Rafe's choices was never right and until that moment, you couldn't picture yourself being jealous of him because still, he had a say in what he had done with his life. The kind of life you regret having maybe, however with the pills mostly, he thinks nobody has it right but him.

Rafe was angry at his father, at himself and at you. He was angry at everything. He no longer knew what has left for him anymore. He has never received anything from his father but the disappointment he caused him. The things used to be his now was taken over by others. His part of the island, his so called values, his friends even and you too. Rafe knew you for so long although you were almost distant with everybody, you shared a huge deal of time together. Mostly because you had close family relationships and Kooks hanged out together all the time until his little sister violates that rule.

"Your new friends turned you into an alcoholic, huh?"

He said coldly as possible, still bitter about you stood between him and JJ Maybank and chose him over him. Well, he didn't expect you to be on his side because you would never. You had principles or some kind of shit he lacks, however he didn't expect you to be on his side too.

"My oldest friends couldn't turn me into an crackhead, I thought I might as well try this one." You said, trying to sound as cold as him but you couldn't make it last so long. "You look like you hadn't drown yourself in snow."

He faced you. "Yet."

You smiled looking at the ground and it was a real one. Rafe was frustrated to so many and sometimes to you but you like to talk to him sometimes. All the time, probably. You didn't know exact amount because you started avoiding being around him for too long after sometime in your life. Because you felt your heart pounding in your chest in a way that so weird as he talks to you and looks at you a little too long. You couldn't take the risk of acknowledging that feeling and letting it grow.

"No lectures about how I shouldn't do it?" Rafe asked you surprisedly. Because he wouldn't hear the end of it generally.

"Would you take them seriously?" You said. Somehow, you felt like grinning like a idiot and you didn't stop yourself from doing it. You asked him, one brow lifted up, playfully. Not like the times you fake being playfull. For real.

As you talk to him, he was about to forget he was mad at you. He grinned at your way. "Nah."

And the way he smiled it was so deadly, but he felt so heavenly just like that.

"You see, I've learned my lessons." You say to him and he just shrugges.

Rafe wasn't the type to approach people with an passive aggressive attitude. He would go with full active. But tonight, what he felt the most was so sickening feeling like sorrow but not, destructive one like hatred which he usually feels most. Therefore he looked calmer outside but the war was going inside his mind and his chest. Yeah sometimes even he had one of those melancholic days.

You felt uneasy as he wasn't even looking at your way to answer. It was like you didn't get what you came here for. He just stood there, making you wondering what he was thinking of at the moment.

Your eyes caught JJ, looking worried as his eyes searched for you in the crowd then they found you. He paced towards to you, seeing Rafe, he thought you might need to be saved from him. "Hey, where've you been?" He asked you after he sent brief glares to Rafe and he recieved the same ones in return. "We were waiting for you."

Rafe felt so regarded before by everyone else, he knew you would have gone. Again.

"You coming?" JJ had to ask as you didn't say anything.

"I think I'll stay here for now. " You sounded so clear that although Rafe was surprised that you wanted to stay, he didn't think he heard you wrong.

"Are you sure?" He said and couldn't stop himself from looking at Rafe. Rafe hated that look and the way he was being protective of you like he would hurt you.

"She said she'll stay, didn't she? Beat it."

JJ turned to Rafe, his jaw clenching in anger. "I don't remember talking to you man. " He sounded hostile as possible.

As Rafe took a step towards to him, JJ was also ready to pick up another fight so he didn't hold himself back.

"Hey, hey!" You had to step in and pushed them away from each other but it was hard because they were always so willing to beat each other up.

"I'm tired of doing this again and again. " You left your hand on Rafe's chest but didn't move the one on JJ's, the one also holding the bottle. He didn't have much common sense either but still was better than Rafe. "I'm sorry to ditch you guys but I need to talk to Rafe."

JJ had seconds thoughts but he left you eventually. Rafe went back to being silent and didn't even ask you what was you wanted to talk him although he wondered.

"You had to be the alpha, didn't you?" You asked just to hear him answering.

"This is my house, I am the fucking alpha here." He spits nearly. He tried his everything to not make a scene but it was a hard battle he had fought inside. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him, the way he's so annoyingly silent and the way he looks so mad but hurt at the same time was confusing you. You couldn't know you either hate him or hug him so tightly that he should never feel broken again. You knew all he did, he did it to make everyone around you to love him.

"Are you angry with me?"

"Is this what you wanted talk about?" He stares at you, answering your question bothers him so he doesn't.

"No." You said. No use of him confirming his anger, it was obvious.

"Just cut the to chase then. Your boyfriend waits for you."

You reached for the cup in his hands and it took him by surprise. "He's not my boyfriend." You said as his eyes widened by the sudden move from you, trailed your hand until you threw the cup to the ground. Then they turned to see your expression to figure out what you up to. You were a little too close.

"What are you doing?" He asked slightly angrily, slightly astonishedly. His pink, soft lips moved so beautifully, you had hard times focusing on his eyes.

"I want you to be sober for this."

You smiled as you grabbed his hand that held the cup the seconds ago. He was baffled by your soft touch, something was different about you tonight.

You pulled him with you and he didn't move at first as he tried to make sense of what you are doing. This was as strange to him as it was to you because your remember how many times you avoided being close to him. When you were talking to him casually or you were fighting with him, you felt so uncomfortable when you get too close to him. He was like this stunning and mesmerizing thing you felt his energy all over you but if you touched him or stay too close, you would get burned. How many times you wanted to hug him, hold his hand, pat his shoulders but you just didn't...

"What are you doing?" He asked, you had a loose grip on his hand and as you two moved swiftly, he was scared that it might break off. "Where are we going Y/N?"

"Be patient just for once."

And he had to be, however he never liked not knowing what's coming for him.

"Are you drunk?" Rafe said as soon as you stopped in front of him, making it to your destination. His eyes wandered around the balcony to see If there's something he sould notice but he's missing. But there were only you and him.

You rolled at your eyes the fact everyone's assuming you're drunk when you never felt so sober and wide awake before until now.

"No, Rafe. I am not." You even left your bottle at the beach.

"Why did you bring me here?"

You had to let go of his hands but your eyes never left his face. There was something with him that you could never understand before. You look at him and never want to see anything else. You could watch him for hours and days and still wouldn't want to look away. How foolish you would sound if you said these out loud.

Rafe waited for an answer but all you did was stare at him blankly.

"Why are you being weird Y/N? You high?"

You walked towards to the edge and left him behind you but turned away to see him, leaning back on the parapets. You had this idiotic smile on your face that just can't go away when you see him. You kept it hidden all this time but no longer fight the feeling.

"No. I am not drunk. I am not high. How many times I have to repeat myself?" You didn't sound sarcastic or angry, on the contrary Rafe found your tone extremely cheerful and it left more confused with the the situation.

"But you don't seem that way. " He admitted. The girl he knows was earnest, restrained and would do what what expected from her. It was annoying to him time to time because you were perfect example people-his father- gives when how he should be like. You were decent and kind, type of person who knows what to say to the people older than you. You were more relaxed and fun when you were with close friends. He liked that you could do it many ways but he always found you hard to get to. You would only let people in -or only him to the some point and would just go ice after that point. You were sharp with your words too If you wanted to and would know where to hurt when you want to hurt somebody but you only did to him once or twice. Probably they were the only times you actually went so cruel with anybody and Rafe was the only person could enrage anyone despite of how calm this person is. Rafe thought you had a side that you kept in secret and he was aware and impressed by that.

Now, you stood there, your hands on the parapets and your head tilted to your side with a small smile on the corner of your lips. You didn't look that weird but the energy you radiate was most peculiar.

He looked up and down. "You seem different."

The way he sound was like a melody. "How come?"

He only shrugged his shoulders and watched you giggle, breaking the silent night with it. You didn't know why you did it, it just got out of you.

Rafe took a step towards you, his eyes squinted with worry. "Are you okay?"

"Oh my God, could you just stop it? I am fine Rafe. "

"Then speak. Why did you bring me here? You're acting insane as fuck." He was impatient now and you were a little upset he thinks you are insane. So being out of your character just for a night and even he thinks you're insane. Your mood was spoiled.

"You can leave If you want. I didn't bring you here to fight. "

You sounded hurt and he couldn't comprehend how did you get too sensitive. You would scream at each other and you wouldn't even fling.

"Okay," he said to ease the tension. "Just tell me why are we here."

His words didn't bring your cheerful attitude back but you still continued. "Do you remember the summer two years ago? You and Sarah stayed here when Rose and your dad went to Caribbean's along with Wheezie?"

Rafe nodded slowly, wondering about why the hell you were bringing this up. "Yeah, we threw the biggest party this island has ever seen." He said little proud with himself.

He hoped the way he chuckles would make you all giggly again but you kept a straight face.

"It had started as fancy party at first. Sarah and I really wanted it to be like Midsummers because we wanted to feel like grownups in our fancy clothes." You smiled softly with remembering all of this. "And Topper was down with the idea because he wanted attention from Sarah. We even convinced you to it."

"And I remember we end up trashing the house at the end of the night though. "

"It was a mess." you said with a small smile that was gone so quickly. You approached to him slowly, with a serious look on your face that finally resembles to your normal self. "Do you remember you put on your dad's tuxedo and it was short for you because you became a giant that year?"

Rafe nodded firmly he was nervous of your serious expression. Now, you were only a step ahead of him and you were searching for something in him that he had no idea what. "I do." He brows squinted. "I had to take it off."

" You put on your ball cap when everyone wore a bow-tie." You smiled sadly, when you remember it hurt how good he looked that night. You'd remember him like that way forever.

"You were too drunk that night. I don't think you remember and it probably didn't matter to you," you cleaned your lips with your tongue. "We were here, alone, and you told me I looked beautiful in my sundress that night."

You felt a warn sensation on your cheek and your vision got blurred before you realize you are crying. You didn't know why because you finally felt so relieved you got this out of your chest. "And I couldn't forget that moment how much I tried to. "

Tears kept falling from your eyes, not matter how hard you tried to keep them in. You were tired from deceiving yourself about Rafe and pretending like you don't feel the way you do. Keeping this hidden from him and yourself. And you hated that you're crying and being so emotional and vulnerable now.

You wiped the tears and able to stop yourself although when you finally managed to look at Rafe, your vision wasn't all clear.

He looked at you as If you are not real. When you didn't get any reaction from Rafe, you were ready to drown yourself in bottles. You couldn't believe how stupid and naive you became in a week. This was the reason you never told him. This was the situation you didn't want to put yourself in. Just like that, a tear warmed your cheek again.

Rafe reached for your cheek, cupped it in his hand hesitantly. His heart shattered when you cried. And it was because of him. His hands left you naked, staring at him and wishing you were dead.

"How can you like me?" He asked, the words didn't almost make it out of his mouth and you weren't able to see his blurry blue eyes because of your own.

You cried a little more to his words. It hurt you how he thought he was unlovable. Yes he was mean, confused and a total mess but he was so much more. Maybe he didn't knew what to say or what to do all the time, maybe everything he did was wrong but he had good intentions. He was damaged and wounded by so many places. He was chaotic, problematic and it was probably wrong to mant to like him. Yes it was hard to love him but you did love him with every inch of your body and soul. You put your hand on his cheek and his skin underneath your palm was the smoothest things you ever touched before.

"You're beautiful, Rafe." You said and you just didn't know how to explain the way you feel. It was too much, too powerful.

"No." He stepped back, shaking his head side to side. He just couldn't believe you. You... of all people, knew how bitter he is and liked him? You were amazing and breathtaking in so many ways, you could do so much more and deserve so much better. And he was wretched soul, not even his father loved him. How could you possibly do?

"Don't fuck with me, okay?" He was angry at you playing with his mind like this. You were being cruel again, hitting where it hurts. "You don't." He said it like it is impossible for someone to love him because somehow, it was for everybody around him.

"I do."

He looked at you like you committed an unspeakable crime. Like you were trying to deceive him into that he has what he always seeked for. "Don't fucking lie to me. You don't." He said and a tear fell from his eyes. "You.." he had to take a deep breath to continue. You... A creation that is above him. "You can't."

If he only knew how he made you feel. If he knew how many times you pushed back the thoughts of him when they suddenly came to you and made your days unbearable. How you convinced yourself that he doesn't mean anything to you and felt sick in your stomach when you saw him with another girl and wished it was you instead. He had a possession in your heart without his knowledge and today was the day that part declared its freedom.

"But I do, Rafe. I spent so much thinking that it's nothing, thinking it is wrong, but I just do. I don't care if it is anymore, Rafe. I always tried to do what's right, it got me nowhere. If this is wrong, then I don't wanna be right."

You brushed his hair back and he was breathing heavily in your face. "Don't push me away." You whispered. "Please."

"I might never be this brave again." You kissed him, slowly made your lips as one. His skin burned you when his lips felt like heaven. When he gently kissed you back, you felt like nothing in this world could make you feel better than this.

Although you needed him more than the air your lungs lacked, you had to pull away. Your breaths melded with each other and now you got a taste of it, you didn't want to stop. Your lips once more was intertwined with his and they danced softly on yours. As your movements became more passionate, he followed you replacing his hands on both of your cheeks and pushing himself closer to you as if that was even an option, If it were, you'd do it sooner.

You wanted more and more. The scary truth that's been invading thoughts had no chance of fighting with the desire you were burning with. Him not loving you back as you do love him would kill you tomorrow but tonight you were born again.

[obsessive-ego]

Sweet dreams part 2

Part 1

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Nsft content

Reader gets a wet dream while sharing a bed with their good pal beetlejuice

Voyeurism, masturbation, dubious consent

It's been a few days since the whole wet dream episode, you can still remember it like it was yesterday, as twistedly hot and awkward as the while thing was, the real awkward issues were the following morning.

10am your phone buzzes, illuminating the room, the mattress shifts, as you reach for your alarm you hear beetlejuice groan "shut it off babes, 10 more minutes".

Youd normally agree to that, but after what he did last night youd like to change you pants, and wash the sheets.

"Sorry Beej, wake up, I got shit to do" you nudge him, hoping he would let you go, no dice, he groans and tightens his grip on your waist.

"Sweets, it's so warm here, you have the day off, humor me".

"Sorry, I need to be an adult today-"

"Oh sugar, you can easily be an adult in bed~" his gravely voice drops to that seductive tone that makes a shiver run up your spin, this bastard was gonna be the death of you, you mumble an apology and pull away from his grip. Slinking out of bed you grab a pair of clean pajama pants and head to the bathroom.

Beetlejuice sighs, he'll get you one day, he pats his crotch, feeling the wet spot from last night, did you not notice last night? Did he wake you? Probably not, as least he thinks so.

He couldnt help but smile remembering that dream, he dreamt of you often, last night was a good one, guess having your scent so close triggered a REAL juciey wet dream, he sighs completely content, the image of you bouncing up and down on his cock, being so pretty for him, saying how much you loved him while he played with your breasts. Of course he figured it was a dream and really escalated it, pounding up into you at a punishing pace having you in tears over how good it was, beetlejuice couldnt help but drool remembering such a fun dream, but now wasnt the time to rub out another one, maybe later. He perked up hearing clattering in the kitchen, meaning you were making coffee, with a snap of his finger he was right beside you, he must of caught you off guard cuz you visibly jump.

"Did I scare you sugar~?" He purrs

You dont respond, your face was red, being this close to beetlejuice after him cumming on your backside in his sleep was too much too soon, you felt so awkward and embarrassed you thought your heart was gonna burst

"I know, I know, you're not a morning person, I'll check again when the coffee kicks in yeah?"

The whole day you would flinch when beetlejuice touched you, you couldnt even look at him, you weren't mad, just embarrassed. But of course he took it as you were upset with him, the day was weird and awful, but you couldnt stop yourself, you kept thinking back to last night.

When It came to the time when beetlejuice had to leave, as Lydia was summoning him, you gave him a goodbye handshake instead of the hug you normally do, you immediately regret that choice, seeing the purple hue that has taken him over, and with that final image he was gone, nothing left but green smoke.

In the last few days you've had time to calm down, and release the built tension. But today was yours and beetlejuice scheduled movie night, he was quite down when he left because of your actions, would he even want to DO movie night with you anymore after how weird you were? You paced the floor, mind flooded with negative scenarios of how the best thing to ever happen to you would never want to see you anymore.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you phone started buzzing, caller ID lydia

You frown, and accept the call "hello?"

"What are you wearing?~"

You sigh, he was using her phone again "beetlejuice-"

"OH sugar you will be wearing me when I'm done with you~" he moaned

Knitting your brows together, not quite sure what he ment, but not wanting to know, before you could reply, BJ starts again

"So are we gonna do this or not? Babes you're giving me massive blueballs" in the back ground you can hear lydia yelling for her phone back and for you to hurry up and summon him.

Taking a deep breath and composing yourself you summon your friend, your apartment is filled with green smoke, you cough waving the smoke away, once the smoke cleared there stood beetlejuice, normally he would pull you around like a rag doll, or dramatically dip and kiss you as a greeting, but tonight he just stood there staring back at you.

You give him a soft smile "hey I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day, I wasnt feeling too hot, and I acted super weird, I'm sorry if-"

Beetlejuice pulls you into a tight hug, guess that's all he needed from you?

"Thank god slash satan, Babs said you were probably feeling sick, I was SO worried you were sick of me Dollface" he nuzzled his head into the crock of your neck, you audibly gasp while the ghoul babbles about how worried he was about losing your friendship, you felt so rotten about it, but it's in the past and you two can move on.

Movie night was the same as it was, enjoyable, you order pizza and Beej scares the piss out of the delivery guy, it was nice to be over the awkward bump.

As it got late you told beetlejuice you were turning in, you got changed in the bathroom out of habbit, returning to your bedroom you saw the demon in your bed motioning you to come hither, you could feel you face getting warm, memories of the last time you two shared a bed came flooding back, you take a deep breath and go over.

"Come to daddy sweet thing~" beetlejuice coos with grabby hands

"Gross" you utter as you slide in next to him, your bed was a twin so there wasnt much room for personal space. Without a second thought beetlejuice wraps his arms around your waist as he spoons you, nuzzling his face in your hair.

"So warm" he mumbles, this is gonna be a long night, you could already feel the heat building inbetween your legs, none the less you close your eyes and try to empty you mind in Hope's sleep will come fast.

...

Beetlejuice is woken by your squirming "what's up sweets? Gotta pee?" No response, he give you a gentle nudge, nothing, he chuckles, you must be dreaming. Your breathing becomes harsh, panting as you squirm a bit harder, bumping your rear into the demons crotch.

"Whoa sugar, you alright?" He whispers, you quietly groan, then it clicks, you were having a wet dream, the ghoul couldnt help but drool at this, here you were, his cute little breather about to become a hot mess in his arms, WHILE HE'S VISIBLE.

You begin whining, while you squirm, bumping your rear into BJ's crotch at a nice steady pace, the demon was over the moon with this, his hair so bright with excitement and arousal, the room was illuminated an electric pink.

"What are you dreaming of sweetheart?~" he purrs, as his hand traces your thigh. "Pretty mean of you to give me a boner like this sugar, hmmmm, is this revenge for cumming on that cute butt of yours the other day?~" he couldnt help but chuckle at that last part.

Bucking harder against him, beetlejuice bites his knuckles to keep himself quite, stifling a moan, fuck this was so hot, should he let you sleep, or wake you up? Waking you up could be a good thing, maybe you'd wake up feeling incredibly horny and need him to pound you silly, or more likely youd be sick to your stomach with embarrassment, the demon is pulled from his thoughts by your voice, a tad louder then before.

"Beej, please" you moan softly

"Sweetheart" beetlejuice gently nudges you, no response. "Sugar, relax let your old pal mr beebleboose help ya out~" he purrs softly.

Beetlejuice gently snakes his hand to the front of your panties, gently teasing the folds of your sex with a single finger, the friction alone made you whine and buck hard, beetlejuice carefully pulls you close to his chest, so his now hard dick is resting nicely against your butt.

"Alright, I got you, this is the least I can do sweets" he cooed stroking your sex, you whine and buck, bumping your rear into Bj's cock, the ghoul bits down on his knuckles to keep himself quiet, this was too good of an opportunity to ruin.

"Beetlejuice..... so good.... ah" you mumbled thrashing a bit harder, god slash satan did beetlejuice want to grind his cock into your ass, but he was already pushing his luck as it was with his hand on you crotch.

"Feels good doesnt it sweetheart? You like it dont you? Naughty little thing~" he whispered, he knew you liked him, he's herd it straight from your mouth, the few times he's watched you touch yourself, you spelled it out nice and clear, that being said he knew you were a coward with your feelings, that was fine for now, he could wait till you were good and ready to admit it yourself, but until that glorious day, beetlejuice didnt mind taking what satisfaction he could get from you.

This, right now, having you moan and buck from his touch alone, having you grind that cute ass against his cock was like heaven, or as close as a born dead demon was gonna get.

"Come on y/n, I know your close~ how bout you cum for your old pal mr beebleboose?~ cum for me sugar, give me all you got~" he purred stroking you folds with a bit more friction along the crotch of your panties, which were now delightfully wet, what beetlejuice would give to stick that delicious garment in his mouth, the thought alone made him drool.

"AH!" You moan out, buck your hips in a clumsy rhythm "beetlejuice...." you softly whisper as your movement slows to a stop and your heavy breathing slowly dies down to a more calming pace.

The demon smiles to himself, proud of what he did, more importantly feeling smug about how you said his name when you came.

"Was it good sugar? Did daddy make you feel good?~" he cooed "pleasant dreams babes" the ghoul whispered placing a gentle kiss on your head, you mumble something unintelligible, beetlejuice couldnt help but smile.

But now to a more pressing matter, you might have already came, but BJ, not yet, the demon slips away from your sleeping form. "You know how I am a gentleman sugar, I couldnt possibly jerk off in your bed with you there twice in one week" he chuckles. The ghoul glances around the room for something to help him out, a new cum rag for the collection, beetlejuice had no issue seeing in the dark, and went straight to your laundry basket, pulling out a freshly wore pair of black panties. He holds the cloth to his face, inhaling your delightful scent, then it hits him, his hand, the hand that ever so gently jerked you off, this was gonna be real good, he hummed to himself strolling out to the living room where he could get away with making alittle noise.

Bonus

Your phones buzzes, 10am

you groan reaching for the device.

"Good morning sweetheart" beetlejuice pulls you back into an embrace, weirdly giddy this morning "did ya sleep well? Have any pleasant dreams?~" he cooed

You knit your eyebrows together, were you talking in you sleep?

"I guess? I dont really remember" you mumble.

Beetlejuice gives you a big toothy grin in response

"Well doll, you were moaning out my name last night begging me to fuck you~" he laughs

You punch him in the shoulder, yeah you did feel tingly between the legs, but he had to be joking "I did not you ass"

The ghoul continues to laugh as you slip away to start your day. The dense ones were always the best in his opinion.

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Caught In Between 34. The Final Location

Summary: Athena Dumont has finally found a place to call home after many years of foster homes and traveling. She had finally tamed her supernatural side and just wanted to live a normal teenage life. She quickly discovers that there is nothing normal about her hometown, Mystic Falls and gets sucked right back into the supernatural world.

Post Date: 02.16.21

Word count: 2.6k

Based off: 04x17 “Because the Night” || 04x18 “American Gothic”

Masterlist

CIB Masterlist

A/N: This part is quite a doozy for Klaus and Athena. I decided to stick the two eps together because the 04x18 scenes I picked were fairly short and I wanted to share the piece of info that reveals a bit about them. I hope you enjoy!

Even though I wasn’t present for the little party Elena decided to throw. I thought it’d be nice to help Caroline clean the Salvatore house up. After I got ready I head over. As soon as I made my way in I could see why Caroline needed my help.

“It looks like a tornado blew through here,” I say walking into the house.

“Tell me about it,” Caroline says taking a sip from a random cup. 

“Well, what can I help with? Well, I mean where can I start?” I ask.

“Anywhere. The trash bags are in the kitchen,” Caroline says. I head to the kitchen and grab a trash bag. As I head back into the main room I hear a voice I’m not particularly keen on hearing. 

“Tyler made it his life’s mission to kill me. You can’t hate me for driving him away,” Klaus says.

“She can and so can I,” I say walking into the room. Klaus looks up at me, almost with a guilty expression, but I just write it off as Klaus being broody.

“Hello, love,” Klaus says almost returning to his normal self.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to spiraling, so go away,” Caroline says.

“Actually, I asked him to be here. We need his help. I think Silas is in Mystic Falls,” Stefan says walking up next to me. Stefan explains the situation to us as we continue to clean up.

“So some blood went missing from a few hospitals. What about Elena? Don’t vampires with their humanity off tend to overindulge in human blood, or were you the exception?” Klaus says turning to Stefan.

“It’s not Elena,” Stefan says.

“Well, let’s just say for a moment that it was Silas. I’m struggling to see how this affects me,” Klaus says sitting down.

“Look. Silas wants to die and be reunited with his one true love, but he’s supernatural, so if he takes the cure and dies, he gets stuck on the other side,” Stefan explains.

“How Shakespearian,” Klaus responds taking a sip of his drink.

“But if he destroys the other side altogether, he can take the cure, die, and pass on, but in destroying it, every dead supernatural being will return to our side,” Stefan explains further.

“That means every werewolf, every witch, every vampire,” Caroline starts.

“Every hybrid,” I add.

“I wonder how many of those you personally killed. Care yet?” Caroline finishes.

“My interest is piqued. How do we stop him?” Klaus asks.

“Bonnie said Silas needs to complete 3 massacres to do this spell. Before Professor Shane died, he convinced the pastor to blow up the council. Next, he had you kill your hybrids, and now he only needs one more massacre. So if he’s here, that’s what he’s doing. We need to find him,” Stefan says.

“So what’s the play?” I ask.

“We look to see if  Shane had any info we didn’t know,” Stefan says. We all nod and head to Shane’s office.

“What are we even looking for?” Caroline asks as we walk in.

“Well, If Shane really was working with Silas, chances are he was helping him plan his next move,” Stefan says as we look around.

“Where, on his evil villain to do list-- steal blood, perform 3 massacres, pick up dry cleaning?” Caroline says.

“Actually not to nit-pick, but we evil villains usually use minions to pick up our dry cleaning, that sort of thing,” Klaus says.

“Why is he necessary again?” I ask.

“I second that,” Caroline says.

“Well, we don’t know what Silas can do, so if we do have to go head to head with him, an original hybrid who can’t die might come in handy,” Stefan explains.

“Would a hybrid who doesn’t want her friends to die be a good enough substitute? Cuz you got one right here,” I say raising my hand.

“Sorry love. But I’m not letting you go head to head with another immortal being,” Klaus says.

“Was I asking you? Was I asking him?” I ask looking at Caroline and Stefan.

“Besides the point. Stefan and I work well together, or at least we did in the Twenties,” Klaus says.

“Well, granted my emotions were off,” Stefan says.

“And that’s why you were way more fun. Just as Damon is probably relishing in Elena’s emotionless company in New York,” Klaus says.

“My brother knows what he’s doing,” Stefan says.

“Does he? Don’t underestimate the allure of darkness, Stefan. Even the purest of hearts are drawn to it,” Klaus says looking over at me. “Still, I’m sure it will all be fine,” 

“I think I found something,” I say looking at the book I have in my hand. “‘Symbolic Figures in the Dark Arts’ Didn’t Bonnie talk about expression triangles?” I say bringing the book to the desk and pointing to the picture on the page I had open.

“‘In some schools of magic such as expression, human sacrifice can be used as a focus for power. It’s rumored that the addition of two supernatural sacrifices compounds the mystical energy creating an expression triangle,’” Stefan reads.

“Humans, that was the council fire. Demons, Klaus’ hybrid failure,” Caroline says.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a failure. What’s the third?” Klaus says wanting to move past the statement.

“Oh, no. Witches,” Caroline says.

“Great. I can’t believe Bonnie is gonna go through with this,” I say.

“Well, we need to figure out where it’s gonna happen. I’m gonna see if I can find or contact Bonnie,” Stefan says and leaves the room.

“Is there a map?” Caroline asks. We look around and Klaus finds one and sets it on the desk.

“There’s been two massacres. Pastor Young’s Farm,” I say and Caroline points to where it is on the map and I make an X.

“And the old Lockwood cellar. Where you spitefully slaughtered 12 of your own hybrids is here,” Caroline and  points to the cellar. I make another X and draw a line to connect them.

“According to the book, the expression triangle is equilateral, putting it here,” I say drawing an X and two lines to find where the witch massacre would happen.

“Somebody’s been skipping their geometry classes. There are actually two places where the massacre could be,” Klaus says and draws another triangle below mine.

“Well, you didn’t let me finish,” I say.

“Hey. What’s going on? Did you find Bonnie?” Caroline asks as Stefan walks into the room.

“No, but I talked to her dad. I think I found Silas,” Stefan says. We all split up to find which location where the massacre was taking place.

“I just want to see where we are,” I say as Klaus and I walk through the forest.

“You know, when we split up, you did have the option of going with Stefan and Caroline,” Klaus says.

“I don’t think so. If I recall the conversation correctly. You said ‘Athena and I will go together’ and then you whisked me away...again. You know is this just another one of your little ploys to get me talking to you alone, and not about Silas or the cure, right?” I ask but get no response. “Do you know how to read a map?” I ask.

“Yes, and do you know who taught me? My friend Magellan,” Klaus says.

“I didn’t know you could make multiple friends. Was he drawn to your darkness too?” I ask.

“Actually, I was referring to Damon and Elena when I said that, but clearly it struck a chord with you,” Klaus says.

“It’s because it’s not true. There’s no allure to darkness,” I say.

“Really?” Klaus says and turns to me.  “So you’ve never felt the attraction that comes when someone who’s capable of doing terrible things for some reason only cares about you?” Klaus asks me.

“Are you referring to you and me?! Because I never knew this side of you until you decided to rain all hell on my family and friends. And before you say anything about Ray’s pack, they were my family. They’re the ones who helped me become the person I am today. The fearless werewolf you decided to make a hybrid of your own will, not mine. So no, I don’t know the feeling you’re talking about, because the man that I knew you as was the one who loved me unconditionally. I heard the stories, but I only saw the good in you, until you decided to mix me up in your supernatural--I don’t even know what this is,” I say feeling a tear fall down my face.

“We’re here, although judging by the lack of witches, here is not the correct location,” Klaus says. We start to head to the other location where Caroline and Stefan went to.

“They’re linked. Bonnie’s gonna kill them,” Stefan says.

“Not if the witches kill her first,” Klaus says.

“Klaus we need to save her,” I say after he pushes Stefan against a tree.

“How? The only way to stop the witches is to kill them, and then Silas gets what he wants,” Klaus says.

“Spirits, take her soul. Free her from darkness,” One of the witches says holding a knife above Bonnie. Caroline doesn’t hesitate for a moment before stabbing the witch with her own knife, stopping the ritual.

“No!” Klaus yells. All the other witches die, completing the expression triangle.

“The triangle is complete,” Bonnie says. We quickly get Bonnie and head out of the location. After we made sure Bonnie was safe, I headed back to my house, trying to take in what happened tonight.

“Hey. How’s Bonnie,” I say answering the phone.

“She’s fine. But she doesn’t remember anything past the island,” Stefan explains.

“I’m just glad she’s ok,” I say.

“Me too. I’m gonna let Caroline know,” Stefan says before hanging up. 

The next morning I was going to head out to check on Bonnie until I noticed an unnatural amount of messages on my phone from Klaus. Knowing he wouldn’t leave me alone with this many messages, I thought I’d go see what he wanted.

“I got you messages...All of them. This better be life and death,” I say walking into Klaus’ mansion.

“Go away,” I hear Klaus say.

“Klaus? Where are you?” I say. I walk towards where I heard his voice until I saw him clenching the piano seat on the ground. “What happened to you?” I ask as it looked like he was in pain.

“I need more time. Stop hounding me!” Klaus yells.

“Excuse me? You messaged me more times than I can count,” I reply.

“Athena. Is it really you?” Klaus asks shakily.

“Of course it is,” I respond. Klaus sighs in relief. He struggles to sit on the piano seat but manages to anyways.

“Prove it to me,” Klaus says.

“I really don’t have time for you to want to solve our relationship problem right now. I have more important things to deal with,” I say before turning around.

“Wait, please. Silas. He stabbed me with a white oak stake. There’s a little piece of it stuck inside of me,” Klaus explains.

“Why would Silas attack you?” I ask.

“Well, I was in no position to ask questions. Suffice it to say, I’m hurt. So you can understand why I called you,” Klaus says.

“I’m not really sure what I could do to help you,” I respond.

“If I die, you, Caroline, Tyler, all of your friends die with me,” Klaus says.

“Fine, just tell me what to do,” I say.

“Well, it’s quite simple, really. I need you to cut the stake out of me,” Klaus says pointing to the already bloody shears on the floor. I pick up the shears and Klaus turns around so I could start to try and get the stake out.

“I swear there’s nothing in here,” I say before digging a little deeper. Klaus screams and slams his hand against the piano. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry... You know what, I’m not,” I say ripping the shears out. “I’ve already got my hands full with helping my friends and you trying to pine for me is not helping. So if you want my help, stop getting in the way,” I say. I move to the couch as Klaus struggles to try to get the stake out himself.

“I can feel the splinters moving towards my heart. Help me!” Klaus yells.

“Will you stop getting in the way?” I ask.

“You really think I’m just going to stop getting in the way when your life could be in danger?” Klaus asks.

“And you know how many times my life was in danger because of you? If you want to get in the way, why can’t you just do something decent for once?” I ask back.

“Because Tyler Lockwood tried to kill me,” Klaus says.

“We’ve all tried to kill you. Hell, I even put you down for a time. But you’ve tried to kill most of us. Why are you going through all this effort to keep me safe when I don’t even need you to. You made me who I am, so why am I not strong enough to protect myself?” I ask. 

“Because I can’t lose you again!” Klaus yells.

“And I’m strong enough to protect myself, hybrid or not. Why can’t you see that?” I ask.

“Because I lost you the first time I met you! You...you we’re in my arms and I let you slip away,” Klaus says.

“Because I wanted to,” I responded.

“No...no. The first time we met. The very first time,” Klaus says confusing me.

“What do you mean? I didn’t even know who you were when we met,” I say. 

“It’s gone,” Klaus says quieter, ignoring my question.

“What?” I ask.

“The pain. The pain is gone,” Klaus says feeling his back. “Oh, see, it was never there. He got in my head. Silas got inside my head,” Klaus says shakily. “You took my mind off it. You brought me back, Athena,” Klaus says cupping my cheek with his hand.

I move his hand off of my face, “If Silas can make you of all people, believe that you’re dying...what can he do to the rest of us?” I ask. Klaus goes to clean himself up, leaving me to process and figure out what Klaus meant by the “very first time” we met while I cleaned myself up.

“I’m heading back to mine,” I say walking past Klaus.

“Hey,” He grabs my arm and pulls me to face him. “Thank you for helping me,” Klaus says.

“Of course. Just don’t think I’ll come running every time you scream for help. And don’t spam my phone either” I say.

“Promise,” Klaus smiles.

“I just have one question. What did you mean by the very first time we met? When was that? I remember the first time we met, we bumped into eachother when I was leaving a cafe,” I say.

“My love. That is a story for a different day, but I promise I’ll tell you one day,” Klaus says and kisses my forehead.

“So you’re just gonna leave me guessing?” I ask.

“There are more pressing matters right now. But I promise I’ll tell you soon,” He says. 

“Fine. But you can’t break that promise, seriously,” I say.

“Promise. Can I ask you a question?” He asks and I nod. “Will you ever love me again?”

“Uhh...I--I can’t really answer that question right now. That’s pretty loaded. But I’ll think about it. I uh guess,” I say and head out.

🏷: @tristanacarry​ | @commentaryfanfic​ | @april-14-blog​ |  @simonsbluee​ | @awkwardspontaneity​ | @keiko0​ | @xetherealbeautyx​ | @vxidnik​

[tomorrowimjustdirt]

Forty miles from her home in South Los Angeles Mitrice Richardson sat in a Lost Hills Sherriff's Department located in Calabasas, California.

Mitrice was an intelligent, goal orientated, care free, 24 year old, college graduate with a bachelor of arts in psychology. In 2009 she was working towards a masters degree. To support herself she worked at ex-girlfriend Tessa Moon's family business and part time as a go go dancer at a popular lesbian night club.

For the past several months leading up to the event which took place, Richardson had been increasingly acting in ways those close to her deemed "strange" and "odd". Most notably her mother Latice Sutton had began receieving text messages from Mitrice, one reading, "Im writing a book (my journals) because u told me I can be anything I wanted…u told me I was Miss America, u told me I was Americas Next Top Model…now do u know what I want to be when I grow up? Miss Mother Nature…cuz Miss America is a fake ass joke along with everything else we 'see' so I'm trying to find my way to Michelle Obama to see if she will talk to Mr. Obama about creating my position within the White House."

Latice replied "Call me!" to which Mitrice responded "I feel joy mommie…not everyone has to die to live. I heard in the Bible Jesus dies so we can live forever… now I have to prove the 'unlogic'

On the afternoon of September 16, 2009 Mitrice stated that while at work she had been watching a soap opera and that Jesus spoke to her telling her to take the rest of the afternoon off, which she did.

She ended up at Geofferys, an upscale restaurant located in Malibu. Once there she used the valet service. Before going in to the restaurant she went and sat in the valet staffers own car. He had asked why she was there, "its subliminal" is all Mitrice answered.

Inside the restaurant Richardson ordered a cocktail and steak. She spoke of avenging Michael Jacksons death and joined a large group of guests she did not know. She spoke to them about astrological signs and an upcoming trip to Hawaii, she promised she'd call them once she got there. Staffers checked on the group and while this was all strange, the group assured them that everything was fine.

Mitrice eventually returned to her own table and once finished with her meal proceeded to leave without paying. She was stopped and asked to pay. She wouldn't be able to she said, unless she could offer sex as payment, or maybe call her great grandmother. The manager allowed her to call Mildred, her 90 year old great grandmother whom she was currently living with. Mildred was offering to pay the $89 bill through credit card over the phone. However, they would need a signature which would require Mildred to be there in person, something she wasn't able to do.

During the conversation Mitrice seemed unfazed by what was going on and continued to make odd remarks. With staffers growing more concerned for her well being, the police were called.

Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department arrived and talked to staffers and Mildred regarding Mitrice. A field sobreity test was conducted on Richardson, she was sober. They could see Mitrice was acting a bit strange, but overall thought she was fine. They were not going to arrest her until the manager decided to press charges for her not paying the meal ticket in hopes that she would be taken to the sheriff department or hospital for a mental wellness check.

With Mildred still on the phone she commented to Mitrice, "they're gettin' ready to take your black ass to jail." to which no response came from Richardson.

Richardson's car with her purse and phone inside was searched and taken to a nearby impound lot.

Mildred notified Richardsons mother Latice letting her know the situation that had unfolded.

Latice called the L.A. Sheriffs Department around 9:30pm asking when her daughter would be released. They assured her they wouldn't relase her until the next morning. Latice had her 10 year old daughter asleep at home with her and didn't want to drag her 40 miles away in the middle of the night, so she stated to a deputy, "I think the only way I will come out there tonight is if you guys are going to release her... she's not from that area and I

I would hate to wake up to a morning report of 'Girl Lost Somewhere with Her Head Chopped Off' "

Upon their loose assement of Mitrice's mental state, they found her to be well enough to be released at 12:28am, even though several statements have deputies claiming they believed Mitrice to be suffering a bipolar episode.

At 5:35am Latice called the department and became enraged and extremely concerned to learn Mitrice had been released to wander off alone.

Little is known about what happened after Mitrice Richardson left the Sherrifs Department, other than she set off down the desolate road on foot.

Latice was advised by Deputy Kenneth Bomgardner to wait at least 24 hours to report Mitrice missing, which she did.

Over the next 11 months several searches of the surrounding area were conducted as well as the reviewing of the security footage collected from the sheriff department. Unfortunately any signs of Mitrice never came to light from the ground searches, but a possible lead came from that night she was released. Edited footage shows Mitrice leaving the sheriffs department followed out the door by a deputy. After being questioned on numerous occasions by journalists the unnamed deputy commented, “The night this nonsense happened, I was one of the guys that kept away from this, minding my own business.”

On August 11, 2010 the mummified body of Mitrice Richardson was found in a creek bed.

Her remains were poorly collected by police without supervison of the lead coroner, and the surrounding area was not secured for investigation. The usual procedure of collecting soil samples and taking photos fell to the wayside. The lack of regard for proper collection made it very difficult for any sort of evidence to be collected and lead to the coroner not being able to conclude a manner of death, just saying there didn't seem to be any foul play.

Lt. Michael Rosson, who supervised the LASD in the removal of Richardson, stated that he believes: animals removed Mitrice's clothing, she may have been bitten by a rattlesnake, or that she may have went into anaphylactic shock after being in contact with poison oak.

Rosson along with other LASD spokesmen state that in no way was this a homicide and that the LASD is in no way responsible for Mitrice Richardson's death.

The retrieval of Mitrice Richardson was so sloppy and unethical that it drew concerned interest from Clea Koff, a former FBI United Nations forensic anthropologist. Koff now runs the Missing Person's Identification Resource Center. Koff stated her disgust for the lack of evidence and disputed the theories given by Rosson.

A few months after Mitrice's body was found, Latice, a family friend, and Clea Koff went to the creek bed and found a finger bone belonging to Mitrice.

In July 2011, Latice Sutton had Richardson's body exhumed for further investigation. Koff hoped the FBI would conduct the autopsy, unfortunately they declined. LASD's crime lab conducted the autopsy with no new findings.

Latice Sutton and Michael Richardson each filed lawsuits against the LASD for their negligence in Mitrice's case. They were each awarded $450,000.

They also asked for the California attorney general Kamala Harris to review the LASD's reports regarding Mitrice. In 2005, after the 500 page report was reviewed Harris announced "there was insufficient evidence to support criminal prosecution of anyone involved in the handling of the case."

Sadly as of 2020, Mitrice Richardsons case remains cold.

[betterdaysareatoenailaway]

Sleep Tight For Me...I’m Gone

Lately I’ve been writing these Better Days Are A Toenail Away™️ posts in Microsoft Word, selecting all and changing the font to Garamond, which is so readable and beautiful, and posting the Word docs, paragraphs by paragraph, inside these Tumblr drafts. It makes things look nice, to my old fashioned sensibilities, but fixing errors is a time-consuming and needlessly convoluted four-step process.

First, I have to copy, then delete the paragraph containing the error. Then I open the doc. and paste the error-ridden paragraph back into Word. After I find and fix the error, I need to save it and copy and paste it back into the post. It's time-consuming because I’m not just copying a paragraph. As you can see from more recent post, what I copied looked more like a photograph of the paragraph, not the words themselves written in Tumblr’s default font Arial. For an example of this, see below. I like the way it looks like old newspaper clippings. I posted an article about how my fent dealer John Smith kept getting robbed, and had resorted to putting a machete in front of his front door as a way of preventing this, a lever of sorts, which is plainly visible in the video I posted,

So today I’ve given up on trying to make my posts look like books or zines, and have given into the Tumblr font, which is about as pretty as a horse with his snout shot off.

There are two much longer posts I’m working on right now, one about Nirvana and one about Soundgarden, respectively, and how both bands were very unlike their public perception, but those posts are taking a lot of work so I’m putting them on the backburner because today is some dumbass corporation’s day where it tries to synthesize mental health and profit and the end result is as baldly capitalist and clumsy as you would expect. 

I’m not gonna name the company, or repeat their stupid fucking slogan. As far as I can tell (which isn't very far), talking about my trauma has never made me feel better. And in fact it has sometimes made me feel worse, because in telling you what hurts and scares me, I’ve given a part of myself away that I can’t get back. When you’re like me, and you’ve lost everything multiple times, sometimes the only form of power you have is how you choose, or do not choose, to tell your story. And in a world where everybody wants to tell “their truth,” silence is power. 

You don’t get to know me, sorry. I’m not gonna hand you my life, both my bad and good experiences, and conclude: “Welp, that’s why I’m so fucked up. Case closed.” 

Honestly, I used to be a little confused, or miffed that my former partner (who is an amazing person btw, in every respect) almost never spoke about some of the traumatic things she’d experienced in her past. I took it as a sign that she either didn’t trust me, or she didn’t think I would be a sympathetic listener, or the mere fact of my gender precluded her from sharing because I couldn’t truly understand what it was she had gone through. It’s not like I ever asked her to talk about it, but I did say, once or twice, “hey if you ever wanna talk about that stuff, I’m around.” She never took me up on it, and I let it go. 

But as I watched her, and saw her life unfold, over the years we spent together, I began to realize I wasn’t exactly in any position to be telling her how to live her life or how to be mentally healthy. After all, she has found success in a number of avenues, both creative and occupational, and I’ve found neither. I'm not saying the fact that she didn't talk much about her trauma is the reason for her success. I'm saying that she's forged a better path through life than I have, and maybe I should take a cue from that.

She never told me what to do, per se. It was more like living by example. But because I’m pretty dense, and a severe addict, our time together actually sorta reminds me now of that Cornell lyric from his first record: She’s going to change the world. But she can’t change me.

I have certainly found that talking about how shitty my life is only makes me feel more shitty, not free, or unburdened, or better. If you wanna talk about your problems, and you find it helpful, more power to you. Just don’t wait for a corporation to tell you it’s okay to not be okay. 

When Chris Cornell died I was so shocked. Of all the grunge icons he seemed the most stable, and he'd survived the rise and fall of two major label rock bands. If anyone had survived the media machine that chewed up and spat out Staley, Cobain, and to a lesser extent Andrew Wood and Shannon Hoon, it was Cornell. He would be the last guy to support hashtag activism like #StarbucksMyLifeSucks. Chris Cornell actually loved to fuck with the best laid plans of corporate rats. Molson once had a few promotional concerts in Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories, called Molson Canadian Rocks Arctic, with both Hole and Soundgarden playing to a crowd of flown-in grunge fans and bemused locals. But the whole anti-corporate thing grunge was known for actually came through when Courtney Love told the crowd she “use[d] Molson Canadian to douche.” Lol. Here’s a photo of Love arriving in Tuktoyatuk.

Cornell told the same people “so we’re here because of some beer company? Labatt’s?” Both artists’ jabs are funny. Cornell’s was a bit more subtle, but that’s what Cornell was like. 

So today’s post is about Chris Cornell’s suicide, more specifically the media’s reaction to it. For whatever reason, when Cornell died, every single news outlet, from CNN to Fox to CBC, posted “Black Hole Sun,” as if it’s the only song he ever fucking wrote, or – and this is far worse – the only song he wrote that’s worth hearing. The problem with this is more than twofold or threefold. It's fucking hydraheaded. 

Not only is “Black Hole Sun” a mediocre piece of music, it’s a complete misrepresentation of Soundgarden’s sound. 

Now, I’m a huge fan of the A.V. Club series HateSong, in which public figures gleefully talk shit about the one song they hate more than any other song in the world. The Max Bemis (Say Anything) one where he talks about Nirvana’s “Rape Me” as a terrible rewrite of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is terrific, but comedian Anthony Jeselnik’s HateSong takes “Black Hole Sun” apart, and I love it. I think the best line is: I think the more I hear it, the worse it gets. AVC: After the song became a huge hit, Chris Cornell said that he’d written it in about 15 minutes. AJ: I totally believe that. I don’t believe that Soundgarden likes that song. Like, I remember Eminem once said that he knew his song “My Name Is” was going to be a huge hit because the first time he heard it he was annoyed. It’s something about an annoying song that just grabs onto people. But I don’t think that anyone likes “Black Hole Sun.” I’ve never heard of anyone who likes it. I don’t understand why it gets played so much. It’s become a summer jam, and it’s not a summer song at all. Jeselnik is right that Soundgarden didn’t think much of the song. Guitarist Kim Thayil wasn’t kidding when he disparagingly called it the “Dream On” of their live show. And Cornell himself, known for a meticulous approach to his songwriting, had admitted that with “Black Hole Sun”was “probably the closest to me just playing with words for words’ sake, of anything I’ve written. I guess it worked for a lot of people who heard it, but I have no idea how you'd begin to take that one literally.” I mean it’s obvious from the opening lines that Cornell is just playing with words and how they sound: in my eyes/indisposed/in disguises no one knows What songs would have been more appropriate for Cornell’s untimely death? Glad you asked! Cuz there’s like…fucking at least ten that would have been better. I’m not tryna be one of those “the deep album cuts are better maaaaaan,” but with Soundgarden, it happens to be true. With some bands, the single are their best work. With other bands, the singles are the hors d’oeuvres for the entrees. So what deep cuts would have celebrated Cornell’s death a bit better? Well, to begin with, Superunknown’s strange and stately closer “Like Suicide” would have worked, for obvious reasons.

“Tighter and Tighter,” a song that is actually about the moment of death and what it might feel like, is one of my all-time fav Soundgarden songs. Not only is it a creepy and prescient prediction of what Cornell’s death by hanging himself may have felt like, it’s opening line is a good description of the personification of death: Shadow face/Blowing smoke and talking wind

Another sample lyric: “A sucking holy wind will take me from this bed tonight/and bloody wits another hits me and I have to say goodbye/sleep tight for me, I’m gone/and I hope it’s  a sweet ride/here for me tonight/cuz I’m feel I’m going/feel I’m slowing down.” 

The morning after Cornell’s death hit the news my buddy and bandmate James told me that en route to work his phone, which was playing music randomly through his car speakers, landed on “Tighter and Tighter” and he had to pull over because he was tearing up. 

“Fell On Black Days” is another song about depression and mortality. Cornell had the following to say about the song: “Fell on Black Days” was like this ongoing fear I’ve had for years ... It's a feeling that everyone gets. You're happy with your life, everything’s going well, things are exciting—when all of a sudden you realize you’re unhappy in the extreme, to the point of being really, really scared. There's no particular event you can pin the feeling down to, it's just that you realize one day that everything in your life is fucked! 

Now, if that’s not a cogent and even-tempered explanation of suicidal thoughts, what is? Why else would Cornell have admitted to being “really really scared” by his depression unless he knew what that depression could ultimately leasd to? Here’s some lyrics to “Fell on Black Days.” Dig the high literary use of “whomsoever” and “whatsoever.” Whatsoever I’ve feared has come to life Whatsoever I fought off became my life Just when every day seemed to greet me with a smile sunspots have faded and now I’m doing time cuz I fell on black days

Whomsoever I’ve cured I’ve sickened now Whomsoever I’ve cradled...I put you down I’m a searchlight soul they say but I can’t see it in the night I’m only faking when I get it right I sure don’t mind a change but I fell on black days how would I know that this could be my fate?

Eagle-eared listeners might think this version different from the album version. They are right. The rendition in the video was recorded live off the floor @ Bad Animals, the Seattle studio owned by Heart, where Soundgarden would record Down on the Upside. 

“Boot Camp” is a scary meditation about loss of agency that for years was tied with Zeppelin’s “I'm Gonna Crawl” for Creepiest Song to Cap a Discography, until Soundgarden reunited and released King Animal.

“Taree” is about ghost light, influencing events after dying and features Cornell’s most exhausted, convincing “yeah” @ 2:57.

“Applebite” is a Matt Cameron-penned ponderous clunker about Adam’s original expulsion from Eden. Doomy and death-laden.

“Let Me Drown” is a song about letting someone die.

“The Day I Tried To Live” is frequently cited as Soundgarden’s finest achievement, its odd time signature somehow sounds straight, thanks to Matt Cameron’s brilliant time keeping.

“4th of July” is a song about a post apocalyptic urban landscape, where the speaker isn’t sure whether he is seeing fireworks or bombs. 

“Limo Wreck” is a cool death song and has an eerie 9-11 prediction. “Building the towers belongs to the sky/when the whole thing comes crashing down don’t ask me why.” 

ANY of the above songs would have been better than that fucking asinine dirge-like major key fuckaround that has somehow not just become Soundgarden's signature song...but their ONLY song. 

Does nobody remember Johnny Cash covering “Rusty Cage?” 

“Outshined?”

“Burden In My Hand?”

“Blow Up The Outside World?”

Did none of these other songs get stuck in the electric head? (The electric head is Rob Zombie’s term for the technologically advanced culture we have found ourselves enmeshed in, or imprisoned by. It was the subtitle for White Zombie’s 1995 hit album Astro-Creep 2000: Songs of Love, Destruction, and other Synthetic Delusions of the Electric Head.)

For my money (which ain’t much honey), the song that best fits both Cornell’s artistic integrity and the sad circumstances of his suicide is “Tighter and Tighter.” I once wrote a whole article on the way artists use “yeah” as a placeholder or as a way to convey emotion when words themselves aren’t adequate. Dig that tired, world-weary exhausted “yeah” at 5:35 of “Tighter & Tighter.”

Or the creepy line going into the first chorus: remember this...remember everything’s just black or burning sun. Not that I agree with such a bleak worldview. It’s a writer’s line. And Randy Bachman has said, “when you’re a writer, you’d step over your own mother.” That’s the Cornell I want to remember. Not that he would step over his own mother. By all accounts he was a committed family man. I mean, I want to remember the Cornell who created strange atmospheric sonic worlds, who explored the dark side that sadly, eventually won out. His otherworldly beautiful music is what I choose to remember about Chris Cornell, not his estate tastelessly exploiting “Black Hole Sun” by using a line from the song to title a posthumous Cornell album of covers No One Sings Like You Anymore. Sigh.

First Cornell’s widow said this was “Chris’s last album.” Okay. What about the Soundgarden songs he recorded vocals for before he died? Kim Thayil was pretty diplomatic about it when asked recently. Cornell did record vocal tracks for the follow up to King Animal.

Kim Thayil: “Given our love for Chris, I do not see us reconfiguring without him.”

But he makes it clear in this interview that Cornell’s widow Vicky has those tracks and won’t release them to the band. Maybe because she blames the band for Chris dying that night? She’s not wrong to believe that they would have known, and seen, what kind of shape Cornell was in, at least at the venue, maybe not later at the hotel.

Kim Thayil: “It’s entirely possible that a new Soundgarden album will be released. Certainly. All it would need is to take the audio files that are available. I tighten up the guitars. Ben does the bass. We get the producers we want to make it sound like a Soundgarden record.”

Interviewer: “Is there an obstacle stopping that?”

Kim Thayil: “There shouldn’t be. There really isn’t. Other than the fact that we don’t have those files.”

Interviewer: “They’re not under your auspices?”

Kim Thayil: “Right. It would be ridiculous if [the record wasn’t made]. But these are difficult things. Partnerships and...property.”

You’re just gonna keep those wav files? And why title his covers album Volume 1 if it’s his “last album?”

Oh right. $$$

No one does sing like Cornell, but is “Black Hole Sun” really the best thing he ever did? The best song he ever sang? Should an album of covers be the last thing he gives to the world?

The only honest answer is no.

Sleep tight Chris. You’re gone.

[suckerfordeansfreckles]

I got one! Um, cas calling Dean late at night cause he was sick, and dean was worried, and cas just wants some comfort, and it might just devolve cuz dean just can't help his love of cas and his growly sick voice . . . And cas may have already known that lol.

Soup & Syrup on AO3

Word count: 1.548 words

Rating: General Audience

Some tags: soft boys, best friends to lovers, sick Cas, AU, gentle caretaker Dean, getting together, no real kisses though because Cas is SICK

Note: @ladygotsoul I hope you like this, love, and it made you feel as soft and happy as it made my own currently sick (and possibly using this fic to project and wish lol) ass. I adore you

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, as soon as the call connects.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean mumbles into the speaker, sounding soft and half-asleep. “Fuck, you don’t sound so good.”

“Yeah, it’s—” he has to break off into a coughing fit, returning to the phone with his voice sounding even raspier. And it speaks volumes that even he himself notices it. “It’s gotten worse.”

He started feeling sick two days ago, throat raw and hurting, every part of his body in pain as if he’ll burn up with fever any second. Then he had to cancel their weekly study date in the library this afternoon, to stay home and take a quick nap that accidentally ended up four hours long and left him groggy and sweaty and weird.

Dean has been sending him texts, five since he cancelled earlier, and as soon as Cas felt awake and present enough to respond, he called.

This is where they are now, around 1 a.m. on a Saturday. He didn’t really stop to look at the clock before he called Dean, but — well. He was just hoping Dean would be awake, maybe out with friends. He was just hoping that maybe, maybe, Dean would come by and dote a little on him. Just because having his best friend around always makes him feel better. Not because he craves Dean’s presence, his palm on Cas’ forehead and his hands tucking him in beneath his blanket. Absolutely not.

“— over? Cas?” Dean speaks against his ear, low and urgent, and Cas realizes that he hasn’t been listening at all during the past few moments.

“Sorry?” he rasps. “I spaced out for a bit.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks, and this time it’s soft, but still somewhat urgent.

“I feel a little better, spent most of the evening asleep and drinking tea. I’m just… groggy and weird. And my cough isn’t going away,” Cas says. Maybe pouts, but Dean can’t see that, so he’s good for now.

“I have some cough syrup at home. You want me to come over and bring it?” Dean shoots back immediately, no hesitation in his voice.

“It’s way too late, but thank you. Maybe tomorrow you cou—” his voice breaks in the middle of his sentence, and that hurts his throat so much, that he falls into another coughing fit. He tries to cover it by pressing his phone against his sweater-covered stomach and coughing into the crook of his arm, but as soon as his lungs have calmed down and he pulls his phone back to his ear to restart his sentence, Dean interrupts.

“I’m coming over,” he says, worried and determined. “I’m picking up soup and bringing the syrup. You need anything else?”

Cas is stunned into a few seconds of silence, can’t help the way his heart clenches in his chest with happiness and something way too close to the desperate love he has been suppressing for months, now. “I — Thank you, Dean. That — You’re amazing. Maybe you could bring a change of clothes and… stay over, tonight?”

“Sure,” Dean breathes. “Okay, be there in 15. Don’t fall asleep on me.”

And before Cas can reply anything at all, Dean ends the call and Cas is left alone with his thoughts.

He realizes, suddenly, how disgusting he currently is. He rips open the windows in his bedroom and living room, hopes for a breeze that will bring in some fresh air, and hops into his shower — hoping that his downstairs neighbors won’t hate him for all the noise at 1:27 a.m.

When he steps out of the shower after a quick scrubbing and the cool air hits him, he starts shivering like crazy. It doesn’t seem to matter how long he uses his towel to rub himself dry, how he uses his blow-dryer for the first time in ages or that he puts on sweatpants and two pairs of socks and his coziest sweater, he’s still shaking when he sinks down on his couch and wraps a blanket around himself. At least he isn’t smelling so bad anymore. Just in case Dean feels like giving im a hug, or something.

Cas is fighting sleep again, head lolling back against the headrest of the couch, when Dean arrives and Cas hears him unlock the front door.

Dean switches on the lights as he steps inside and closes the door behind himself, and as soon as Cas managed to blink his eyes open in the bright light, he finds Dean slipping out of his shoes, a soft smile on his lips and a plastic bag in his hand.

“Hey there,” he says, pulling off his jacket and closing the distance between them to sink down on the couch next to Cas, one leg pulled up so he’s facing Cas.

“Hello,” Cas rasps, sitting up so he can look at Dean.

“I got some chicken broth and this vegetable thing, wasn’t sure what you’d want.” Dean pulls the containers from the bag, sets them down on the table and leans back again. “When was the last time you had some food?”

“I had some cereal for breakfast today, but  mostly I just… didn’t feel hungry at all. I could eat now, though. I take the vegetable thing and you can have chicken,” he says, trying to suppress a smile at the way Dean lights up with relief.

“Awesome,” Dean laughs, and then he’s up and rummaging through Cas’ kitchen for spoons.

They eat in silence, straight from the plastic containers, sitting side by side and gently bumping elbows every now and then. When they are done, Dean grabs Cas’ spoon and fills it with the cough syrup, going as far as raising it up to Cas’ lips so he can slurp it up in an, unfortunately, very unattractive way that has both of them snorting a little.

“Thank you,” Cas says. “Seriously, for everything.”

“Dude, of course. You sounded — I mean, honestly, you still don’t sound so good. All… growly,” he blushes a little, and Cas can’t do anything but find him unreasonably delightful.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Dean clears his throat. “Growly and raspy. Um. And with the red nose and flushed cheeks.”

“You like that?” Cas can’t help but ask, and he’ll just blame this bluntness on the raising fever later on.

Dean blushes even harder, a lovely shade of crimson that has his eyes looking impossibly greener. “I mean —I like your voice plenty enough, when you’re healthy and feeling good.”

“You do?” Cas grins, voice pitched even lower, and he can’t help but laugh at the way Dean shivers and sinks into the couch a little deeper. “Do you wanna watch something?” he asks, so Dean can deflect in that way he always likes to do.

“Sure, yeah,” he coughs, eyes averted. He gets up and starts Netflix on the tv, starting up season one of Brooklyn 9/9, Cas’ most favorite comfort show. When he sinks back on the couch, it’s a little closer by Cas’ side.

They watch for a little while before Cas starts to shiver again, so Dean wanders off to get Cas’ blanket and switch off the lights. When he returns to the couch, Cas is stretched out along the edge. “Would you… hold me?” he asks, raspy and honestly quite miserable.

Dean looks down at him a little hesitant for a few long seconds, but then he smiles wide and determined, blurts “sure,” and snuggles down between Cas and the back of the couch and carefully wraps his arms around Cas’ middle. “This okay?” he asks, pulling the soft blanket up around them.

“Mhm,” Cas sighs softly, “very much so.” He melts back against Dean’s chest, and feels Dean’s heart pick up speed just like his own is doing. “This is nice. I’ve been… hoping for this.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, breathless and quiet. His arms tighten around Cas’ waist, head tipping down until his nose is buried in Cas’ wild hair. “Me too. Didn’t really think it’d happen this way, but… I will not complain.”

Cas turns in his arms, until he can look up at his face, and his stomach feels all warm and fuzzy. “I adore you,” he says, and Dean’s lips stretch into the cutest smile ever.

“I adore you, too,” Dean whispers back, but when he leans down, Cas ducks away so his lips land on Cas’ forehead instead of against his own lips.

“I’m sorry,” he rumbles. “But as much as I want this, I’m not gonna get you sick, too. You can kiss me all you want as soon as whatever-this-is is finally over, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. As much as you want,” Cas mumbles, and then he buries his head against Dean’s shoulder and unabashedly breathes in his woodsy, leathery smell for the very first time ever.

Maybe they end up not watching any tv at all. Maybe Cas falls asleep buried against Dean’s shoulder in mere seconds. Maybe they spend all of the weekend wrapped up on the couch together, only interrupted by Dean cooking some food and brewing tea and feeding Cas cough syrup.

Maybe, just maybe, Cas falls impossibly harder for his best friend during those few days cooped up together — and tells him so by the end of the weekend.

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