#i was drawing and i second guessed if jack had glasses or not

[delicatebluebirdruins]

Jack is the only person in 7 wearing any real colour everyone is wearing either white or black or grey or brown

Jack is wearing muted orange though (with blue/ green stripes with a white line down the middle but focusing on the orange here)

and i did not know this but the colour orange means a few things but the highlights were hopelessness and arrogance and of course death

[ssahotchnerr]

how about doing a birthday celebration with the team for aaron and he feels overwhelmed bc he’s so used to doing nothing for his birthday since haley passed and felt alone even with jack <333

celebrated

happy birthday aaron 🥹<33 cw; established relationship, mentions of haley, aaron self deprecating (it's sad - i'm sad), references to alcohol, mentions of food, hurt to comfort wc; 1.4k

about an hour or so in, you found aaron in the kitchen, half sitting-half resting against the counter. the man of the hour had been missing in action; he'd gone in search of a drink a while ago and had yet to return.

it was november second, aaron's birthday, and the first birthday you were spending with him. naturally, you wanted to go all out, for aaron to feel nothing but loved on his special day.

it wasn't a surprise party, aaron had been aware the whole time (you knew he didn't favor surprises too much), but had zero part in planning. he was only aware of the time jess were to drop over to pick up jack for the night, and the time of which the others would be arriving at the apartment. which, had been swallowed up with balloons, colorful streamers, confetti was scattered across the floor (which truthfully you were dreading picking up later, and hopefully you all wouldn't still be finding pieces for the next month), a banner was hung on the wall. his team were all in attendance, drinks were flowing, lively conversations were being had, a table of god only knew how many appetizers.

it was going nearly as perfectly as you had visualized, mind the part where aaron snuck away.

"hey, you alright?" you sidled up to him, your hand comfortably resting on his back.

aaron nodded, meeting your eyes as he lifted his drink to his lips. his eyes maintained their usual soft glow, but appeared down. "all good."

you weren't convinced, your puzzlement clear. "but you're hiding?"

"i wouldn't call it hiding." he chuckled softly, a sigh leaving him as he set his glass of whisky down. "just soaking it in? the night's been great, don't get me wrong. but it feels... strange."

you moved in front of him to wrap your arms around his middle, pulling him flush against you. "can i ask why?"

"the last time i had a banner," aaron chuckled again, a melancholiness suddenly overtaking him. "jack was practically a newborn - haley's doing."

"oh."

"yeah." aaron's hand ran up and down your back instinctively, mindlessly drawing shapes. "brings back memories."

"god i can only imagine." you sobered, tucking yourself more into his chest. your ear was pressed against him, hearing his steady heartbeat.

"i guess overwhelmed is the correct word to describe it. haley always went all out, then the divorce happened and then..." an exhale left him. "birthdays since, never did anything. i guess it was acknowledged but never celebrated. come to think of it, i don't think i've ever celebrated with the team."

as if on cue, a loud commotion came from the other room - team mid-drinking game.

once it had died down, you queried, "how come?"

aaron continued, the hand on your back rising to the surface just below your neck, finger pads pressing into your skin comfortably. "some years we were on a case, penelope hosted her Día de los Muertos parties, or everyone was still recovering from halloween. trust me, i'm sure no one would be too keen on partying again the next night. and you know me, to them, i'm not the heartfelt, full of life, approachable type. not worth it." he laughed, but it was more so an attempt to brush it off.

but it didn't sit right with you - of course it didn't. "did you ever say something about it?"

"it's okay." it wasn't, and he didn't answer your question. "i felt alone, sure, but when didn't i? i managed, and just took jack out for ice cream if i happened to be around. i don't think he ever knew the reason why, either."

you craned your head up to look at him. this surprised you. "you never told him?"

"it's," aaron paused, exhaling a breath. "complicated. he knows but he doesn't. he's young, the only dates he's technically supposed to remember at seven are christmas, halloween, his birthday." aaron shook his head, feeling almost silly. "what was i supposed to do, just out of the blue state, 'it's my birthday'?"

"well, it wouldn't have hurt. he could've made you a card, or wished you happy birthday at the bare minimum."

"i didn't want to inconvenience him-"

"aaron," you laughed sadly, your heart shattering at the same time. "he's your son."

"it's okay." there it was again. "my birthday wasn't a huge deal growing up anyway. if i wasn't as gravely punctual as i am and paid attention to the date, it most likely would pass as any other, normal day."

you fell silent; having so much to say, but having no idea how to fully express it. you just felt, sad. for him.

aaron sensed your dropping demeanor, and placed a kiss on your forehead to hopefully counter it. "it doesn't matter much now. i have you."

"but yet, you're still here rather than out there." you nudged your head towards the direction of the distant yells. "and i didn't even think about you potentially getting overwhelmed, i'm sorry. this party, it's an almost drastic change come to think of it, and i should've-"

"are you kidding?" astonishment reigned in his voice. "the fact that you went through all this - planning, coordinating, decorating - for me. it makes up for all those years alone. and i'm not just saying that because i love you." he gave you a cheeky expression, but you knew he was only playing it up to lighten the situation, despite his genuineness. "even breakfast with jack in bed this morning. i never pictured myself as the type to get breakfast in bed, stuff like that doesn't happen to me. it was really, really special, thank you."

"well, you better get used to it." a rush of air left your nose - makeshift laughter - as you thought back to earlier in the day. "not only was it a hit for you, but jack as well. he already brought up pancakes instead of waffles, with sprinkles, for next year."

a laugh shook through aaron's chest, jostling you a bit, before he fell silent, his fingers brushing through your hair soothingly.

"you deserve to be celebrated." you offered softly, the solemness reentering your heart, although it never left.

it weighed heavy on you - the man who gave you everything, who made you feel like you were everything, and who deserved it even more, defining himself as close to nothing. it was in complete aaron fashion, but you wished he wouldn't downplay, everything about himself, or make up 'rational' excuses to be okay with being overshadowed. he wasn't only meant to be there for others, to be thinking of others - he deserved happy, simple things too.

aaron's expression started to pull into one of disagreement, but you were quick to halt it. "hey, no. you deserve to be celebrated. i can't even tell you how much your existence means to me. being with you, doing life with you, seeing you be the best dad to jack and the most integral leader to the team. they value you, trust you, and you're family to them. they wouldn't be here tonight if you were some hard ass who wasn't worth it. that's not you. and i thank the stars every day you're here with me."

"honey-"

"please. say it."

nothing short of longing was cast on your face, in your eyes, and aaron were suddenly afraid that if he didn't admit so, the tears would start rolling.

he sighed, "i deserve to be celebrated."

"no, you gotta say it like you mean it."

aaron playfully rolled his eyes, but caved, his tone more forceful this time around. "i deserve to be celebrated."

"you're damn right, and you better start believing it."

aaron took a deep breath, pressing his lips to yours. "with you around, i will. thank you, i love you."

you returned the kiss, giving his chest an affectionate pat. "c'mon, let's rejoin your party."

you started exiting the kitchen, but aaron stayed put. when you looked back, another melancholy expression painted his face, and standing there, he almost looked younger for a moment.

"babe?"

"it is nice. not feeling like a drill sergeant for once."

your lips tipped into a smile as he moved closer, brushing your hands along his torso as soon as he was in reach. "they love you."

one of his rare, small but charming smiles adorned his face, brown eyes aglow. "i know."

"i love you."

aaron grabbed one of your hands, allowing you to lead him back to his party.

"i know."

[callsign-mayhem]

to the moon and back

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Mitchell!Reader Word Count: 5.2k

You are the daughter of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and the lifelong best friend of Bradley Bradshaw. Nothing has ever been able to get in between the two of you, not even the feelings you’ve been harbouring for him for as long as you can remember. But when you both get called to Top Gun for what seems to be a suicide mission, you realise that life is too short to keep your love for him a secret.

Y/CS - your call sign

Use of Y/N but no description of reader

You couldn’t remember the last time you laid eyes on Bradley Bradshaw, and if you’d known you would be this affected by the mere sight of him then you would have better prepared yourself. He was in his rightful place behind the piano at The Hard Deck, performing ‘Great Balls of Fire’ with all his usual enthusiasm, and then some. His infectious personality had every person in the bar gravitating towards him, belting out the lyrics along with him as though their lives depended on it. You had to draw from every reserve of strength you had so as not to march right up to him and kiss him senseless. You’d missed him so much.

Being deployed had been difficult for you and had felt like exactly the wrong thing at the time, but eventually you realised that it was what you needed. If you’d stayed, it would have only been a matter of time until you spilt your guts to Bradley about the feelings you’d been harbouring for him since you were teenagers.

The song was almost over and so was your time for composing yourself. It was ridiculously warm in the packed bar, so taking a deep breath was no good. You resigned yourself to a few shots of something strong - liquid courage if you will - and headed to the bar to speak to Penny.

‘Y/N!’ she exclaimed, ‘what are you doing here?’ ‘I have no idea,’ you told her, ‘an assignment of some sort. I find out more tomorrow,’ you gestured to Bradley and a few of your other friends from the academy, ‘and apparently I’m not the only one they called. I don’t know whether I should be worried or relieved.’ ‘Your dad was just in here. He know you’re back?’ ‘Yeah, I haven’t seen him yet though,’ you gestured to the bottle of Jack behind her, ‘can I get one of those, please? Or three?’ Penny reached for the bottle and a shot glass. ‘Not wasting any time, huh?’ You glanced behind you to where Phoenix was patting Bradley on the back and getting everyone to cheer for him, ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen these guys.’ ‘You mean it’s been a while since you saw Rooster,’ she smiled knowingly. You downed your shot and slammed the tiny glass back down. Penny refilled it immediately, ‘That too,’ you admitted with a wince. ‘You already know what I’m going to say.’ ‘Yes, and you already know why I can’t tell him.’

You downed your second shot and just as you were about to do your third, someone covered your eyes with their hand. You knew who it was without having to hear him speak or look at his face because you’d know him deaf and blind. Hell, you’d know him in death.

The familiar rumble of his voice in your ear set your entire nervous system alight: ‘Guess who.’ ‘Hmm,’ you pretended to think, ‘I don’t know. Hangman?’ Rooster scoffed, ‘I haven’t seen you in two years and the first thing you do is insult me? Glad to know some things never change, Y/CS.’

You spun around and looped your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the side of his. He lifted you off the floor and spun you around with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, laughing like a little kid. It felt like no time at all had passed.

‘And you’re still shooting whiskey like it’s water,’ he noted, setting you down gently, ‘so you definitely haven’t changed.’

You drank him in hungrily, trying to act like you weren’t totally out of control on the inside. In one of his dad’s old Hawaiian shirts with his aviators perched on the tip of his nose, he wasn’t exactly a brand new man. Something about him was different, though, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Even as the two of you had gotten older, you’d always seen him as the goofy kid in the cowboy hat that could make you laugh on the darkest days. Throughout high school and your time at the academy, he’d been the person you confided in about everything, and the only secret you’d ever kept from him was your ever-growing feelings for him. But now, after just over two years apart, he felt more like a stranger than ever before. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed, and you were struggling to figure out how that could be.

‘You want a beer?’ you asked. ‘Sure, but no more shots for you. We gotta be up early and I know if you carry on drinking like that you won’t get out of bed.’ ‘When you’re right, you’re right.’

You got Rooster a beer and a JD and coke for yourself before heading over to the rest of the group. There were a few people whose reputations preceded them but you’d never met in real life, and then there was Phoenix, one of your closest friends from the academy. When she saw you she practically jumped on you and Rooster had to take your drink from your hand so it didn’t spill everywhere.

‘Y/CS!’ ‘Hey,’ you giggled, ‘Phoenix, it’s great to see you too but I can’t breathe.’ ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she relented, ‘how’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since your deployment. When did you get back?’ ‘Couple of months ago,’ you told her, ‘I’ve been in South Carolina.’ ‘You’ve been back months?’ Rooster cut in, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ ‘You know how it is, Roo,’ you said, ‘you get deployed, come home and your whole life is upside down for a while. By the time you’ve settled back in, weeks have gone by and you still haven’t had a chance to see anyone.’

He nodded, but his hurt was apparent. Hangman sidled up next to you and you’d never been more relieved by his incredibly annoying presence. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, hugging you tight. He was a massive ass, but you’d somehow ended up friends while being stationed together a few years ago. A lot of his bravado was an act, and when he let his guard down he was actually a great person to talk to.

‘Y/N Mitchell,’ he said, ‘Long time no see.’ ‘Can’t say I’m mad about that.’ His usual shit-eating grin was plastered across his face, ‘You and I both know that’s a lie.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, Seresin.’

Everyone makes small talk for a while and those who have never met before are introduced. You pull a barstool over and sit next to Bob, Phoenix’s new back-seater. She’s the first one to point out the elephant in the room.

‘So anybody know what this ‘special detachment’s’ all about?’ ‘A mission’s a mission,’ Hangman replies, ‘They don’t confront me. What I wanna know is who’s team leader. And which’a ya’ll have what it takes to follow me?’ Hangman winks at Rooster, needling him, ‘Hangman, the only place you’ll ever lead anyone is an early grave.’ Hangman looks up from his next shot and walks over to Rooster until they’re standing face to face. ‘Anyone follows you is just gonna… run outta fuel. But then that’s you all over, ain’t it, Rooster? Snug on your perch, waitin’ for juuuuust the right moment. That never comes.’ Rooster tenses visibly and you grab his arm, ‘Hey, you wanna get another drink? Feel like we’ve got some catching up to do.’

You leave the rest of the group to their game and grab a couple more drinks before heading outside. The Bronco is parked out front looking prettier than ever, paintwork glinting in the late-evening sunlight. If you had a dollar for the amount of late-night drives you and Bradley had taken in that thing, you’d be a billionaire.

You intended to sit at one of the tables outside The Hard Deck, but Rooster had other ideas. You ignored the swarm of butterflies in your stomach when he took your hand and led you down towards the beach and reminded yourself that you had no reason to be nervous; he was your best friend, he didn’t know about your feelings and nothing had changed.

‘I still can’t believe you’ve been back months and you didn’t tell me.’ You cringed, ‘I’m sorry, Bradley. I should’ve called, I know.’ ‘Mav know you’re back?’ Yeah, he’s here too.’

Your father was a touchy conversation subject and you tried to avoid talking about him as much as possible. Once you’d eventually realised that there was no way of convincing Rooster that everything he’d done had come from a place of love and concern, you’d given up trying to keep the peace. It was difficult, letting him fester in his own anger, but it wasn’t your fight. However, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t still holding out hope that things would go back to the way they used to be someday.

‘How’ve you been, anyway?’ you asked, swiftly changing the subject, ‘What’s new in your life?’ ‘The usual. Getting called down here is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in months.’ You laughed, ‘That can’t be true. What happened to the girl you were dating?’ ‘Molly? Jesus Christ, that was over as quickly as it started. I stopped seeing her not long after you left,’ he sipped his beer, ‘what about you? Meet your future husband while you were away?’ ‘Nope,’ you sighed, ‘starting to think I’m destined to be alone forever.’ ‘What about Hangman?’ Rooster asked, Jake’s callsign sounding like ashes in his mouth.

To call your brief fling with Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin a mistake would have been putting it lightly. You’d been stationed together in Alabama for a little while and he was the only familiar person there so, naturally, you’d gravitated towards him and him to you. After getting to know each other better, one thing had led to another and you’d ended up sleeping together after one too many JD and cokes. That one night had led to another and another until you were pretty much dating, although neither of you had ever mentioned putting any kind of label on whatever it was the two of you had going on. Rooster had been up in arms when he found out, yelling at you down the phone that Jake was a complete and total asshole and that you deserved so much better, leading to the worst - and only - fight you’d ever had.

While getting involved with Jake was definitely a mistake and you didn’t plan on walking down that particular path ever again, you still stood by what you said in his defence: you have to get to know him in order to understand him.

‘You already know that’s over.’

Rooster looked at you and you had to remind yourself to breathe. You’d never wanted to kiss him more in your entire life.

‘I’ve got no idea why we’re here,’ he said, ‘but I’m glad you’re with me, Y/N.’ ‘Me too, Bradley. Me too.’

-

The special detachment, as it turned out, was a suicide mission. There was no other way of putting it. Your dad was immensely proud of you and your accomplishments and had never once doubted your abilities as a pilot, but he wasn’t happy that you were on this particular mission. He wasn’t happy that Rooster was on it either. After your first day of training, you went to dinner with your old man so you could catch up and talk about what you’d be in for over the course of the next couple of weeks. You hadn’t realised just how much you’d missed him until you were sitting in front of him, but part of you wished it was under different circumstances.

‘Surely me being part of the team you’re training goes against some kind of rule,’ you said around a mouthful of steak. ‘The stakes are so high, I think mostly every rule has already gone out the window.’ ‘I haven’t been this scared since I climbed in a cockpit for the first time,’ you admitted, ‘but I’ve also never wanted to be on a mission more.’ Your dad smiled, but there was fear in his eyes, ‘I don’t like that look, Y/N.’ ‘It’s the only one I got, Dad, and I got it from you.’ ‘Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.’

-

White hot rage blinded you like a fire poker between your eyes. The minute Rooster walked through the doors you were racing up to him. Jake had to grab both of your arms and pull you off him to prevent you from swinging at him.

‘What the fuck was that Bradshaw?!’ you roared, ‘You got a fucking death wish?!’

He ran a hand through his hair, face flushed from the heat and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You weren’t just angry at him for endangering his life, or your dad’s, for that matter, you were angry because you understood why he’d done it. And you knew that if you were in his shoes and you were up there with something to prove, you’d have done the exact same thing.

‘Can we not do this here?’

You shrugged Jake off and straightened out your flight suit, leading Bradley out of the room. He followed you outside into the blazing heat of the San Diego sun where you preceded to turn around and punch him so hard in the shoulder that he took a step back.

‘Jesus, Y/N,’ he huffed, ‘was that really necessary?’ ‘I don’t know, was nearly killing yourself and my dad really necessary?’ ‘I had it under control!’ You laughed humourlessly,  ‘Yeah, it looked like it.’ ‘I’m not gonna have this fight with you,’ he said matter-of-factly, ‘I’m sorry for scaring you, but you have to understand-’ ‘I do understand!’ you screamed, ‘But just because I understand, doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed as hell!’

He pulled you flush against his chest and you softened immediately, unable to resist the comfort and security that came with one of Bradley’s bear hugs. If you had it your way, you’d stay in his arms like this for the rest of time.

‘You really need to have it out with Mav,’ you mumbled into his flight suit, ‘this is getting beyond ridiculous - it’s dangerous.’ He kissed the top of your head, ‘I know.’

-

You had to admit, dog fight football was a stroke of genius on your dad’s part. It was the perfect way to relieve any tensions between the team and also take everyone’s minds off the upcoming mission. Jake and Bradley - the two team captains - tossed a coin to decide who would pick first, and Jake ended up picking you. You suspected he did it just to get underneath Bradley’s skin, and judging by the set of his jaw as you marched over to Jake, his plan worked.

You also had Payback on your team, and between the two of you, you were carrying the whole game. You didn’t like to toot your own horn but… toot toot.

‘Come on Bradshaw!’ you yelled, smirking devilishly, ‘You really gonna let me kick your ass so spectacularly in front of everyone?!’ ‘You’ve got Payback! It ain’t fair!’ ‘Oh, so you don’t think we could win without him?!’

He was holding one of the balls and was preoccupied with insulting you, so when you ran at him at full force and snatched it right out of his hands, he was too stunned to try and stop you. Hangman and Payback both cheered, but as soon as Bradley refocused he was on your heels, and he had the advantage of extremely long legs.

Just before you could score, he came up behind you and wrapped both of his arms around your middle, lifting you off the ground and throwing you over his shoulder. You were so startled you dropped the ball and unluckily for you, Coyote was right there to pick it up and score another point for their team.

‘Put me down you cheat!’

Rooster was laughing so hard you could feel him shaking with it as he ran. He didn’t stop running until he reached the water and it was up to his waist, and then he dropped you in. It was freezing but actually quite a relief after running around in the sun all afternoon. You came up for air coughing and sputtering to find him doubled over with laughter, and you took the opportunity to drag him back down with you, pushing his head down further under the water. You knew you wouldn’t be able to overpower him long and before you could even comprehend what was happening he had a tight grip on both of your thighs, yanking you back under.

If not for the fact that it all happened so quickly, you would have spent more time revelling in the feeling of his big hands wrapped around the tops of your thighs. Your whole body broke out in goosebumps, and you knew it wasn’t from the chill of the water. When you both resurfaced you were smiling like fools and laughing like two lovesick teenagers, and you never wanted the moment to end.

‘Hey!’ Hangman called out, ‘Are you two still playing or what? I’ve got a game to win!’ With an eye roll, you yelled back: ‘Yeah we’re still playing, you couldn’t win without me anyway!’

Somehow, Rooster’s sunglasses had remained on his face throughout the entire fiasco, and you reached out and gently slid them off. He blinked against the sunlight and watched in awe as you put them on.

‘Did I say you could wear those?’ he asked. ‘Did I ask your permission?’

The two of you made your way back towards the rest of the squad, and it looked like your team was back in the lead. A sly remark about Rooster’s sabotage failing was on the tip of your tongue, but then he put his hand on your waist and pulled you into his side, ruffling the top of your head affectionately. The skin-on-skin contact was enough to drive you insane, and your words died on your lips.

‘Keep them,’ he murmured, ‘they look better on you anyway.’

-

When the mission got moved up, any calmness you felt dissipated like water on the hot asphalt of a runway. Your dad was now team leader and you had mixed feelings about it. You’d spent your whole life fearing for him, but knowing he was going on this mission really took the cake. And then there was the small issue of you being his kid, which would undoubtedly cloud his judgement when it came to selecting the rest of his team. For one, the chances of him even wanting you on the mission were slim to none, but then there was the worry that if he chose you, it would be seen as favouritism.

The final day of training was over and you’d been told to go and get some rest before tomorrow, and despite your exhaustion, you knew that if you were to lay down in your bunk now sleep wouldn’t come. It was one of those rare moments where the sky over Fightertown was empty and as a result, an eerie quiet had settled over the base. You were still in full flight gear - minus your helmet - sitting on the ground in the shade provided by the wing of your F/A-18. Before settling in for the night you still had to find time to shower, get something to eat and see your dad, but you were paralysed.

You dreaded to think how long you would’ve sat there if Rooster hadn’t suddenly materialised. He sat down opposite, stretching his long legs out so they were on either side of you.

‘What are you still doing out here?’ he asked gently, ‘You feeling okay?’

You were fiddling with your dog tags, a nervous tic you’d picked up in the academy, and Rooster never failed to notice. Looking into your eyes earnestly, he took both of your hands in his.

‘Talk to me, Y/CS.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I’ve never been this nervous about a mission before. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ ‘This is the highest-stakes mission either of us has ever gone on in our careers. I would be worrying if you weren’t nervous.’ ‘Yeah, but you know me, Roo. I don’t do nerves.’ ‘You think I’m not shitting my pants at the thought of having to fly tomorrow?’ You laughed despite the lump in the base of your throat, ‘You hide it better than me, then.’ ‘You can’t keep anything off your face, Y/N. I always know what you’re feeling.’ ‘You do?’

Your heart dropped at the thought of him being able to read you so well, but in hindsight, you should have known. You’d literally been destined to be best friends since before you were born, since your dads stayed up late one night talking about their futures, wondering if they’d have kids and how well they’d get along. As far as you knew, he’d never kept anything from you, and you’d only ever kept one thing from him. You lived your life at the same pace, shared the same moral compass and wanted all the same things. You finished each other’s sentences and could have secret conversations through facial expressions, without even having to speak. If he called, you answered. If he needed you, you ran to him, and vice versa.

You didn’t need him to confirm your worst fear: he knew you were in love with him. There was no doubt in your mind and you were a fool not to have seen it sooner.

As though he’d read your mind and sensed the worsening of your anxiety, he changed the subject.

‘What do you say we go and grab a bite to eat?’ ‘Like a last supper?’ Bradley laughed, ‘You can be really morbid sometimes, you know that?’

-

‘It’s been an honour flying with you,’ your dad said, ‘each one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission. My choice is a reflection of that, and nothing more.’ ‘Choose your two Foxtrot teams.’ Cyclone told him.

You fought the urge to vomit down your flight suit.

‘Phoenix and Bob. Y/CS and Payback.’

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

‘And your wingman.’

The tension in the air was palpable. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck.

‘Rooster.’

You could feel Bradley’s eyes on you, but judging by the unpleasant feeling that had overcome you, turning around to face him wouldn’t be a smart idea. For one, he more than likely looked just as nauseous as you and seeing him like that would only cause your anxiety to skyrocket. Secondly, he was the one person you could be completely vulnerable in front of and since it was already taking every ounce of your strength not to cry, it was probably best not to engage.

For the next hour, the seconds passed you by like cars on a highway. You listened to Warlock explain the mission for the final time, but his words went in one ear and came out the other. You stayed at Payback’s side up until it was time to go, but just as you were heading out to the flight deck, your dad pulled you aside for the conversation you’d been anticipating since he said your name.

His expression was, as ever, unreadable and you decided that it was probably a good thing that you didn’t know exactly what he was feeling in that moment. If Maverick was nervous, then you really had something to worry about.

He pulled you close and squeezed you tight, and you let out a single, strangled sob.

‘I know you can do this.’ ‘Me too,’ you were clinging onto him for dear life, ‘but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified.’ ‘If I didn’t believe in you completely, I wouldn’t have chosen you.’ ‘I know, Dad.’ ‘I love you, Y/N.’ ‘I love you too. I’ll see you when we get back.’

He kissed the top of your head before letting you go and you headed out to the flight deck together. Payback was already waiting for you, but it seemed as though there was one more conversation to be had. Maverick patted Rooster on the back as he passed, throwing one final glance back at the two of you. All you could do was remind yourself over and over again that you’d be seeing him later and that you’d be going for steaks at your favourite diner back in San Diego before you knew it.

You could tell Rooster didn’t know what to say but it didn’t matter. You already knew, because you were thinking all the same things.

‘When we get home, I have some things I wanna talk to you about.’

He reached out to touch your cheek and you leaned into his hand, almost nuzzling his palm with the side of your face. Hugging him, you decided, would be too final. It would feel like a goodbye, and this wasn’t a goodbye, it was simply ‘see you later.’

‘There are some things I want to talk to you about as well,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘but if you can read me as well as you say, you already know that.’ ‘Yeah, I know.’ ‘Fly safe, Roo.’ ‘Give ‘em hell, Y/CS.’

-

It wasn’t humanely possible to count how many times you’d flown. It was as natural as breathing oxygen, almost a second thought at this point. Getting into the cockpit of a fighter plane felt more like coming home than walking through the front door of the house you grew up in with your dad.

But nothing could have prepared you for that mission.

And nothing could have prepared you for the immense feeling of sheer panic and terror when your dad was hit. It was as though the bottom of your plane had dropped out and you were in freefall. If that wasn’t horrific enough, Rooster had gone after him. This paired with the chaos of the dogfight was traumatising enough that you’d forgotten how to breathe and what you were supposed to be doing. You had absolutely no idea how Payback managed to talk you down from going after both of them, but he did, as well as calming you down enough so you could fly back to the aircraft carrier.

You weren’t in the habit of being overly emotional in front of anyone who wasn’t Bradley or your father, but when you climbed out of the cockpit and Phoenix was already waiting for you, arms open, you collapsed onto her and broke down. You’d been completely inconsolable up until you got word of Rooster’s signal in an unidentified F-14.

Surprisingly, the relief came after cursing yourself for ever believing that your father could be bested by anyone. At this point, you were almost entirely sure that he was immortal. And as for Bradley, he was much stronger than everyone else realised. He gave Maverick a run for his money, and that was saying something. Phoenix was the only reason you hadn’t collapsed onto the ground when you realised they were okay and coming home, with the help of Hangman, of course. In the back of your mind, you were wondering how long it was going to take to hear the end of it from Jake.

And there you were on the flight deck with Phoenix’s arm around your shoulder and Payback’s around your waist, watching your dad and your best friend make the rockiest landing you’d ever seen. It felt as though all your internal organs were in your throat as you watched the net get thrown out, ready to catch the incoming aircraft and stop it from going overboard. The sound was near-deafening but you hardly noticed with the rushing blood in your ears. As soon as that plane stopped moving, you tore away from Phoenix and Payback and made a beeline towards the F-14, safety concerns be damned.

Your dad climbed out first, somehow steady on his feet despite what he’d just been through. But that was Mav all over, wasn’t it? He didn’t so much as wobble until you threw yourself at him.

‘Dad!’ you shrieked, ‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

He held you with the strength of someone who had a newfound value for their own life. He cradled the back of your head with one hand and stroked your hair like he used to when you were small.

‘I’m okay, are you okay?’ ‘You’re seriously asking me that?’ He laughed breathlessly, ‘I’m okay now.’ You squeezed him tighter than ever before, ‘I love you, Dad. I love you so much.’ ‘I love you too,’ he replied, releasing you reluctantly, ‘and I want you to know how proud I am of you for pulling that off.’ ‘It’s in my blood.’ He put his hands on either side of your face and leaned in to kiss your forehead, ‘I think you should go and speak to Rooster,’ he whispered, ‘we’ll talk more afterwards, okay?’

At the mention of Rooster, all the wind was knocked out of you. All you could do was nod at your father before he headed over to the rest of the squad, leaving you alone in front of the battered F-14. Rooster had jumped out right after your dad, but he’d given the two of you some space. You locked eyes like they do in the movies, but this wasn’t a movie. The world didn’t tilt on its axis or stop turning altogether; it was more like the two of you were the only ones in it that actually mattered. Everyone around you might as well have been frozen in time.

He was taking long strides towards you, but he couldn’t get to you quick enough so you ran to meet him halfway, not stopping until your face was mere millimetres away from his. He was filthy, covered in blood, and sweat and God only knew what else, but you were blinded by the light behind his eyes. You’d always been totally mesmerised by him, but this was something else entirely. It was suddenly very apparent to you that you would do anything this man asked of you, follow him down to the eye of any storm, love him until you took your final breath.

‘Y/N-’ ‘Don’t say anything,’ you interjected, ‘I already know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t wanna waste any more time.’

And before he could utter another word, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss started out soft but then he ran his fingers through your hair and somehow managed to pull your face even closer, deepening the kiss. He ran his tongue along your lips and you parted them for him, finally tasting him the way you’d wanted to for as long as you could remember. Your veins were thrumming with so much electricity you thought your head might explode. When you eventually parted, the space between you was too much for you to bear (you never wanted there to be any space between you and Bradley ever again) so you looped your arms around his neck just like you always did when you hugged him. His face was full of so much adoration, anyone would think you’d hung the bloody moon in the sky.

‘Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?’ he asked. ‘If it’s anywhere near as long as me, we’re going to be kicking ourselves.’ He kissed the tip of your nose and you damn-near melted, ‘I don’t want to go another day without kissing you like that.’ ‘Neither do I.’

You’d forgotten that the rest of your squad was standing a few feet away, waiting to celebrate with you. When you turned around, they were all cheering for you and Rooster and you could just about make out Phoenix’s ‘finally’ over the sound of Payback’s hoots. You knew you had to go over there and that there would be plenty of time to be alone when you got back to San Diego, but you couldn’t wait until then to tell Bradley how you felt about him. If he hadn’t already guessed.

You had to stand on tip toes to reach his ear, where you whispered: ‘I love you, Bradley Bradshaw. To the moon and back again.’ You felt him shiver beneath your touch. ‘I love you too, Y/N.’

[milkytheholy1]

The big screen

Request: Hello ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

Can You do a Rise Leo x a crush fem reader were the reader is an actor for a movie as the maniac villan but she is very shy irl (maybe Leo finds a fan fiction about reader, would he read it? XD) Is ok if you don't want to do this 😅

---

The air felt thick with the amount of smoke flourishing out of the toppled-over buildings, the outlandish sounds of innocent screams and car horns were blaring in the distance. You stood there, in a circle of broken glass and debris, smirking. Your hands twisted in an unnatural way, wavering around a deep red magic, glaring with dead eyes at those who crossed your path.

"This is your last chance," you all but hissed, fingers rigid and teeth bared, "Leave me alone!"

"Annnd cut! Alright everyone, let's do a reset! (Y/N) head to make-up for some touch-ups." yelled the director, swivelling back in his chair to face the monitors. The illusion of the fake world you played in dissipated as the green screens became more apparent, the smoke machine was turned off and the speakers blaring screams was muted. With a quick sigh and a sip of water, you headed back to your trailer, awaiting your turn for make-up.

The moment you saw your trailer come into view you let out a small smile, just a few minutes' rest would feel heavenly after such a long shoot. The second the door closed you let out a long sigh, the scarlet leather of your costume moving stiffly as you flopped onto the small bed.

Unbeknownst to you there was a figure sitting on the opposite side of the van, lounging on the sofas and making himself rather comfortable, "You. Were. Amazing!" he beamed, slamming his comic book down on the counter. You jumped, completely forgetting that you had invited, well snuck, Leo onto set today. Your cheeks soon matched your coat, as you started twirling strands of hair with your finger, "You really think so?"

"Uhhh, think so? I know so!" he beamed, "I was watching the whole thing from the catwalk, you were so cool!" he stood up and posed in front of you, "This is your last chance," he crooned, trying his best to repeat the line with the same delivery as you.

You couldn't help the giggle that slipped past your lips, "Perhaps you should go back out there instead of me, you're much more suited for this role than I am." you wanted it to sound like a joke, but deep down you knew there was a lingering feeling of truth in your words. Leo groaned, "I wish I could perform out there, but I would never be able to capture the unique beauty that is you."

God you almost wanted to swoon with how gentlemen-like he was being, "What if I wasn't meant for this role, we've already done so many retakes, I just don't think I'm getting this right." you looked down towards your knees, drawing patterns in the fake dried blood and dirt. Leonardo frowned, moving to sit by you and your extremely delicate costume; which he made a note to avoid touching.

"It's normal to have reshoots and whatnot, that's show business, baby!" he keened, jazz hands reluctantly following closely behind him. But when you didn't smile he knew he needed to jack up the sincerity.  

"Heeey, you're doing amazing! There's not another actor or actress who could nail a role like that, other than you, of course." he brushed your cheek with the pad of his thumb, willing you to look at him.

"Besides, they choose you, after all. Right? You were asked to audition by the director, they chose you to play this part! That's got to mean something hasn't it?" his wide smile was infectious, it slowly but surely made its way onto your face too, "I guess you're right?" you mewled.

A knock at the door broke you both apart, Leo inclined to hide in the shadows of your trailer. With a timid voice, you spoke up "Who is it?"

"It's Tyler, the intern, I'm here to take you to hair and make-up."

You nodded your head, not like this Tyler was going to see it anyway. You turned to Leo with a grimace evident on your face, "I have to go now, I wish I didn't have to though."

"Hey, you're gonna make a killer movie!" Leo bribed, "Plus you're gonna win so many awards, maybe even an Oscar! Which I'm totally tagging along with, by the way."

You couldn't help the snort, "Go get 'em, tiger." Leo smiled, giving you an earnest thumbs up. You nodded your head, took a deep breath and swung the door to your trailer open. You were ready and you were gonna nail this. And who knows, maybe you will win an award or two?

"And the winner for best actress of the 2024 Oscars, goes to....(Y/N)!"

[eldermillennialgod]

The People Have Spoken (1.2k) | Post-Canon AU | TFW 2.0, Humor

Inspired by this poll.

Sam is hunched over his notebook, meticulously cataloging the contents of storage box 128a—ancient tomes bound in worryingly skin-like leather, a spent monkey’s paw, the usual—when the sound of Dean’s laugh draws his focus. He looks up to see his brother, eyes crinkled with mirth, peering at him over the top of his laptop.

“Dude, check it out,” Dean says, spinning the computer around with a flourish.

Sam leans in and squints at the screen. (He absolutely does not need reading glasses; he doesn’t care what Dean says.) The webpage’s title, garish ice-blue font on a black background, assaults his eyeballs:

Dean Winchester from Supernatural Voted Fictional Character Most Likely to Steal Your Girl

“Oh no.”

“The people have spoken,” Dean grins and waggles his brows. “Awesome, right?”

Not awesome. A little over a year ago, they’d left Chuck wallowing on a muddy beach in Minnesota, stripped of his powers. Since then, Sam’s been more than happy to shove the former deity—and his godawful paperbacks—to the furthest recesses of his mind.

“I thought people had moved on from Supernatural,” Sam mutters.

Dean’s enthusiasm dims a notch. “Yeah, well.” He pulls the laptop back towards him and covers the trackpad defensively. “According to the Internet, Chuck cranked out a bunch more books between 2015 and 2020. Gave the series a second life, I guess.” He glances at Sam. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“Why would I?” Sam sighs and presses his fingers against his temples. He feels a headache coming on.

“C’mon, Sammy. You’re telling me… what? You never Google yourself?”

Honestly, Sam doesn’t. The last thing he needs is to stumble across some anonymous fangirl’s opinions about his not-really-fictional (but always questionable) life choices.

“Hell no,” he says, emphatic.

 “Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties in a knot.”

Sam wonders, not for the first time, if they made a mistake letting Chuck live.

“Think we can convince Jack to just wipe the whole thing from existence?”

As he says it, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, a familiar tingling sensation washing over him. Jack, summoned by the sound of his name, pops into the room.

“Wipe what from existence?”

“Jesus, kid,” Dean gripes. There’s no heat in it. “A little warning next time? Swear I’m gonna put a bell on you and Cas one of these days.”

Castiel—also eavesdropping, evidently—arrives next. He materializes at Jack’s side, heralded by a flurry of wings and rushing air. He gives Sam a courtesy nod then circles the table, gravitating towards Dean like a celestial moth to a flannel-clad flame.

“It would be nice if our shitty lives weren’t immortalized in purple prose for all eternity,” Sam says, turning his attention back to Jack.

“Hey buddy, get a load of this.” Dean nudges Cas and points at the laptop. Cas leans in, his hand finding its usual perch on Dean’s shoulder.

“Theoretically, I suppose I could erase all traces of the books from existence, though the quantum mechanics would be complex,” Jack’s brow furrows as he considers it. “The books would have to not-exist in this timeline, but in others...”

Cas, still squinting at the headline, says, “Dean, this article’s premise is flawed. It doesn’t mention your homosexuality. Or that you’re in a committed relationship.”

The tips of Dean’s ears turn red. “I’m not—that’s—” He takes a breath. “I’m not gay gay, Cas.” Sadly, it’s not the first time Sam’s borne witness to this argument. “And anyway, you’re missing the point.”

Cas fixes Dean with a look. Sam, having been the subject of said look more than a few times himself, knows Cas is about to say something cutting.

“I don’t know, Dean. You seemed pretty ‘gay gay,’” the angel throws up air quotes, “to me last night when—”

“O-kay!” Sam interjects, steering them away from that particular line of conversation. Over the last six months—ever since Cas and Dean pulled their respective heads out of their asses and admitted their feelings for each other—Sam’s gleaned enough information about his brother’s love life to long for the days when they collectively Didn’t Talk About It.

Jack gazes at them with the rapt fascination of a scientist studying an intriguing specimen.

“Can we focus on what’s really important here?” Dean grumbles. He shuts the laptop forcefully and takes a long pull from his beer. “Me and women. Me being good with—and desired by—women. Lots of women. So many women, I won a poll.”

Jack’s expression shifts, curiosity replaced by that serene look he gets sometimes since he became capital-G God. “The Supernatural books bring joy and comfort to many people,” he says, tone eerily reminiscent of a self-help guru. “You should all take pride in your accomplishments.”

“See?” Dean gestures towards Jack with his beer bottle. “The kid gets it.”

“Hold up. You’re defending Chuck’s books now? You—the guy who once threatened to shoot Chuck if he didn’t stop writing… you know, before we all found out he was God. And a massive dickhead.”

“I always suspected he was a dickhead,” Cas says, mildly put out.

Dean’s eyes narrow. “What about Marie and Maeve in Michigan, huh? You’re just gonna Thanos-snap their favorite hobby away?”

“Dean, those girls have graduated college by now. I’m sure they’ve outgrown their Supernatural phase.”

Jack perks up. “Actually, Marie still writes fanfiction. We’re mutuals on Tumblr.”

In perfect unison, Sam, Dean, and Cas all turn to stare at Jack.

“What’s a Tumblr?” Cas tilts his head, looking to Dean for guidance. “Isn’t that some kind of glassware?”

Dean opens his mouth, but Jack beats him to it. “Tumblr’s a website,” he explains, commandeering Sam’s laptop. Sam winces at Jack’s enthusiasm—kid might be a newer, more benevolent God, but he types like he’s trying to punish the keyboard for a millennium of sin.

“See?” Jack turns the laptop towards Cas and Dean. The three of them crowd around it, effectively cutting Sam out of the viewing party.

(He absolutely doesn’t pout, even if it is his computer.)

Dean jabs a finger at the screen and looks at Jack. “Dude, you have… ten thousand followers? What the hell do you even blog about?”

“Supernatural,” Jack says, pleased.

It takes Sam a moment to process this. “What?”

“I write about the four of us in the bunker.” Jack smiles beatifically. “Everyone thinks it’s fanfiction, but I’m actually just chronicling our day-to-day lives.”

“Oh my god,” Dean skims the posts over Jack’s shoulder. Draining his beer, he absently sets the empty bottle on the table.

“Yesterday’s entry was about Dean and Cas’s great cookie dough debate,” Jack tells Sam.

Sam shoots his brother a questioning look, and Dean flaps his hand dismissively.

“It was stupid. Cas was being a hard ass about food safety.”

“Forgive me for not wanting you to get salmonella from raw eggs,” Cas says, glaring.

“The eggs were from Ernie’s farm down the road. Those chickens are probably cleaner than we are!”

“Oh, for the love of—”

As the conversation devolves into childish bickering, Jack starts typing furiously, no doubt transcribing the latest CasDean drama for his legion of followers. Seeing his chance to make a quick exit, Sam claps Jack on the shoulder, gathers his papers, and slips from the room.

Out in the hall, Sam takes a breath and clutches his research and coffee mug to his chest. A stray thought niggles at him.

“I’ve definitely been with more women than Dean,” he murmurs.

He takes a minute, does the mental math.

“Right,” he says, wincing slightly. “Quality over quantity, anyway.”

With a shake of his head, Sam retreats to his bedroom. Time to call Eileen and remind himself that, unlike his big brother, he actually has a girlfriend.

[wereh0gz]

Thunder - Oneshot

Based on a drawing I made some time ago, written mostly in the middle of the night because of rainstorm and a random burst of inspiration that wouldn't let me sleep (kinda fitting considering what the fic is about lol), which I'm now posting months later.

In which Tails can't sleep during a thunderstorm, but his werehog brother is there to help.

Words: 2,067

Thunder.

A dreadful rainstorm raged just outside Tails' bedroom window. Rain poured against the glass with such force the fox feared it would break. Light flashed through the sky, followed a few seconds later by the mighty roar of the heavens.

Tails cowered under his blankets at the sound, his fur standing on edge and his ears flat on his head.

The logical side of his brain told him that things weren't that bad. The storm was moving away. He knew because of how much time there was between the flash of lightning and the sound of thunder. He knew that he wouldn't be struck by a bolt of electricity from the heavens.

It told him that the howling wind would only cause a few branches to come loose at worst. That his house, workshop, and everything in them was safe.

It told him that the rain wouldn't be nearly enough to flood their home, just make their backyard a bit soggy. That it'll be okay.

Yet the fearful and childish side of his brain screamed that he wasn't safe. He was in danger. That he needed to run. Hide.

So here he was, listening to the scared part of his consciousness, clutching his pounding heart as he breathed quick and shallow breaths, and panic consumed him.

He tried and tried to steady his breathing, to stop his heart from racing, but every time he managed to calm down just a bit, thunder would crash and send him spiraling again.

It's past midnight. He should be sleeping. Sonic had been nagging him about maintaining a good sleep schedule, that he can't work while sleep deprived.

Not like he's much better than Tails is when it comes to sleeping at decent times…

He takes a deep breath. He's able to calm his nerves, if only slightly. Still wrapped in a blanket, he sets his head down on his pillow and closes his eyes. The rain has yet to subside, but at least he hasn't heard any thunder in a bit. The pitter-patter of the rain hitting his roof could actually help him relax a bit more-

Kra-boom!

Ah, spoke too soon.

Tails yelped, sitting back up on his bed, shaking like a leaf. His namesakes poofed up like a pair of feather dusters, poking out from under the blanket.

Maybe some water will help, he thought, as he slowly slipped out of bed and walked out of his room.

He rushed out past the living room and to the kitchen, but stopped once he heard low grumbling in the dark room. He stood just inches away from the doorway, watching as a large figure walked by the counter to where the trash bin would be.

"Stupid fuckin' earplugs don't do jack shit…" the figure growled as he tossed something into the small bin.

Though Tails couldn't see him too well in the dark, he knew it was Sonic, turned into that beast form again. Just hearing his voice, though gruff and annoyed, made him feel at ease. He smiled, amused by Sonic's uncharacteristic language.

"Two rings for the swear jar, Sonic," Tails said as he flicked the light switch on.

Sonic nearly jumped at the sound of his brother's voice, quills spiking up slightly. He looks back at the two-tailed fox, spines quickly settling back into place as he put a large paw on his chest.

"Geez, kid, you almost gave me a heart attack," the beastly hedgehog said as he began walking towards him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you…" Tails rubbed the back of his neck, "Since when did you have such a potty-mouth?"

"Eh, I'unno," he shrugged, leaning on the kitchen counter, "Guess you just start swearin' more when you get older. Things start pissin' you off more, I guess."

"That's another one for the swear jar. Now you owe three rings," Tails smirked.

"Oh, that does not count-"

"Yeah, it does-"

"No, it doesn't!"

"Yes it does-!"

Light flashed through the kitchen window, lighting up the dark and dreary skies for a split second, before thunder crashed down. Tails nearly jumps out of his skin, yelping in fear. Sonic jolts, too, grimacing and quickly covering his pointed ears.

After the shock from the thunder had passed, Sonic uncovered his ears and looked back to his younger, terrified brother.

"Storm's keeping you up, too, huh?"

Sonic wasn't scared of storms like Tails was. He can usually sleep through anything.

Guess tonight was an exception.

"Yeah… This happens every time…"

Tails doesn't know why he's so afraid of storms, of the sound of thunder and the flash of lightning. It's not like the shock of hearing a sudden loud noise out of nowhere that everyone experiences, that's just a reflex.

This is fear.

"Need some water?" Sonic asked, his voice as gentle ever, though corrupted by his transformation.

Tails nodded, wrapping the blanket he held tighter around himself. He sat down while Sonic grabbed two glasses, one for himself and another for Tails.

Sonic added ice to his own glass before pouring water in, which confused Tails. They never drank tap water, instead buying it bottled or by the gallon and keeping it in the fridge so they always had cold and clean drinking water. Never knew when Eggman would poison the water reserves (either accidentally or intentionally), so it was always good to have. But it was already cold, and Sonic doesn't usually take ice with his drinks, so why would he need it?

The hedgehog placed Tails' glass on the counter as he sat down next to him. They both drank their water in silence, listening to the rain pouring against their home.

Then Tails heard a crunching sound. He looked to his brother.

Of course, he had gotten the ice to chew on it. Why didn't he think of that before?

His teeth growing like that every night must be painful, and with his ears being more sensitive and all the loud noises from the storm, he must be stressed. Not that Sonic would ever say that outright, of course, but Tails could tell.

He's found a solution to one of his problems, at least. Ice isn't going to help much with loud sounds, though.

"Hey, Sonic? I've got some noise-cancelling earphones in my workshop, if you wanna-"

"Already tried 'em," he interrupted, "They don't work on me."

Tails stared at his brother for a moment as he continued chewing away at his ice.

"... You better have not touched anything else in my workshop."

"I didn't, I swear!" he raised his paws defensively, "That's the only thing I touched, and I put 'em right where I found 'em."

"Mhm. You better."

"... Wish they could've kept out the noise."

They both fell silent again.

Tails thought as he took the final gulps of his glass of water. He really wanted to help Sonic, yet it didn't seem like there were many solutions to their problems, especially not immediate ones. Though he had an idea to design some specialized noise-cancelling earphones for his brother, he logged that away for later, as that would take far too long to make right now.

Working on a project like that right now wouldn't help him get any sleep, either. Tinkering at inventions is usually what keeps him from sleeping, and it won't stop the storm.

Tails sighed. He feels heavy, tired. He was finally starting to get his sleep schedule in order and this storm came in and ruined it. How frustrating…

Lightning strikes again, scaring Tails half to death. Sonic barely even reacts this time, only grimacing and rubbing his head as a low growl escapes his throat. He seemed just as tired, if not even more tired than Tails.

The hedgehog gets up from his seat. "I'm gonna try sleepin' on the couch. You wanna stay with me or do you wanna go back to your room?"

Tails follows, grabbing his hand. "I… don't wanna be alone…" he mumbles.

"Alright, buddy. C'mon," Sonic said as he led the young fox into the living room with him, flicking the light switch off on his way out.

Sonic let himself fall onto the red sofa in their living room, sleepiness beginning to take hold of him. Tails pushed a few crumpled papers away and sat on the rug right in front of it, still too scared to sleep yet.

He looked at the bookshelf on the left wall of the room. His figure collection lay neatly on the shelf, alongside a large array of books he and Sonic had collected over the years. He could try reading, but he doubts he can focus on anything like that with this storm.

He then looked to the low table, covered in papers and crayons. Some of the papers had been doodled on, others crumpled up. Some had rolled onto the floor, and neither he nor Sonic had bothered to clean them up yet. They should do that soon.

Thunder strikes again. The fox yelps. Sonic gives a dirty look out the window, as if that would stop the storm. It seems he isn't as bothered by the noise now, at least.

He yawns, unable to contain the tiredness that has overtaken him. Yet before he lies back and tries to drift off to sleep, he offers a large, blue paw to his shaking brother. His left paw, the one with Chip's bracelet around his wrist.

Tails takes it, holding his older brother's hand as he takes deep breaths. Sonic's thumb gently rubs the top of his hand, careful not to scratch him with his sharp claw. It was fluffy, the peach fuzz that once covered Sonic's skin having grown into short, thick fur. And yet, underneath the fur, he could still feel the callouses and small scars on his skin. The gem on his bracelet emitted a soft, green glow.

All of it was familiar, comforting.

But a part of Tails felt embarrassed for needing this kind of help. He was ten years old now, and a super genius, yet all it took was a little storm to turn him into a shaking mess.

It's kind of pathetic, he thought.

"You okay, buddy?" Sonic asked, voice as soft as he could make it. He looked at him with such kindness in his emerald eyes, despite how sharp they looked now.

"... I feel kind of stupid right now," Tails admitted.

Sonic's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because… because of all this. I'm ten already, and I'm still scared of lightning. I've beaten killer robots and mad scientists and this is what gets me. I'm not a little kid anymore. It's so stupid…"

"Hey, we've all got our fears," Sonic squeezed his hand, "I'm almost eighteen, and I'm still scared of water."

"That's… different."

"How so?"

Tails tried to think of some kind of justification, or excuse, but came up with nothing. As far as he knew, both his and Sonic's fears were irrational. There wasn't a difference besides the cause of the fear itself.

Sonic shook his head.

"It's okay to be scared of things sometimes, whether there's a reason for it or not. And it's okay to need help, too."

Tails sighed. He may be right, but that doesn't make it feel any less embarrassing.

Sonic yawns, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. "Alright, I think that's enough talking from me. I'm gonna try and get some sleep, but I'll be right here if you need me, 'kay? And I'll pay for the swear jar tomorrow, promise."

"Okay…" the fox nods, watching his brother as he relaxes on the sofa and slowly drifts to sleep.

Sonic always had an easier time falling asleep. Tails can't say he doesn't envy it.

Tails looks out the window, watching the storm as it begins to relent, if only slightly. It's probably one or two in the morning now, but he can't be bothered to look at a clock to tell the exact time.

He leans back onto the sofa, still holding his brother's hand. He tugged the blanket closer to himself with his other hand.

As the storm raged on, Tails found comfort in his brother's loud snoring. The sound once annoyed the fox, but now it served to drown out the dreadful thunder crashing outside.

A small smile crept onto his face as he finally felt himself drift off to sleep as well.

[scorpsik]

When Nightmares Return: Chapter 2. Ghost Hunting

Emily has come back for Henry - can she get to him in time?

When Emily Prentiss breezed into the BAU briefing room, she brought an aura of confidence with her. She could see the hope reignited in her old team’s eyes, and her heart swelled with love for them. She caught JJ’s eye and nodded assuredly to her. “Let’s get down to business.”

For the next few hours, Emily relayed every bit of information that she’d been able to scrape together on Tivon Askari and Michael Hastings. She’d called in all of her favours and even used dropping her mom’s name to get higher up the food chain. She guessed there were occasions, after all, when being the daughter of an Ambassador had its benefits.

“These guys are snakes.” She said. “They have no loyalty to anyone.”

“That makes them especially dangerous.” Dave added.

“And hard to pin down.” Spencer nodded.

“So, how do we nail these S.O.B.s?” Derek asked.

Emily glanced at JJ. “They want you, Jayje. They’ll do anything to hurt you. You need to get Will and Henry safe.”

“Will’s on a case. Janine’s with Henry – she’s our sitter. He’s fine – I saw him this morning.”

“Call her. Tell her to bring Henry here. You are to stay here too, JJ. You are NOT going home until we get Askari.” Hotch said. His own chest was beginning to tighten as he thought about how close he came to losing his boy Jack when Foyet came after him.

JJ swallowed thickly and nodded.

“No – don’t call.” Emily warned. “I’ll go pick him up. If Askari can, he’ll be monitoring your calls. If he has eyes on you or the team? Well… he won’t know who I am. I’ll head out now – you should call Will when I leave. If he’s got a tap on your line, he’ll be distracted listening to your conversation. It might give me the edge.”

“I’ll come with.” Derek said, rising to his feet.

“Sorry, Derek… he might recognise you. I’ll be fine.” She glanced at JJ. “It’ll be okay. Once Henry’s secure here, then we can go all out on this bastard.”

*

Emily fought to stay in control as she drove to JJ’s home. She was in an unmarked car, and driving just below the speed limit so as not to draw any attention to her presence. Her eyes flicked to the clock every few seconds until she was finally pulling in to Will and JJ’s driveway.

She walked briskly to the front door and knocked. No answer. “Janine?” she called through the door. “I’m a friend of JJ’s.” She knocked again, her heart speeding up. “Janine? Will you let me in?” She waited again. Still nothing. “Fuck.” She hissed, slipping along the side of the building, her hand on her glock. She tapped on the sliding glass door at the back of the house and felt the door shift – it was unlocked.

“Shit.” She breathed, drawing her gun and creeping inside. Her eyes scanned left to right with every step she took, her gun held out in front of her, her finger hovering on the trigger. “Janine?” she called cautiously. “Henry?”

As she rounded the corner into the lounge area, she stopped, her breath leaving her lungs. She squatted beside Janine’s corpse and felt for a pulse. She was cold and rigor was already setting in. She’d most likely been dead for five or six hours. Emily sighed sadly. She’d been raped by the looks of it before being executed with one shot to the head. That was Hastings’ MO.

With heavy heart, she searched the rest of the house, but it was empty – no Askari; no Hastings… and worst of all: No Henry.

She took out her cell phone, dreading delivering the news to JJ, when she caught sight of something odd on the coffee table. One of Henry’s stuffed toys was sat there, its glass eyes staring at Janine’s corpse… and jabbed between its paws was what looked like a memory stick.

Her stomach sank to her boots and she felt like she might just throw up. God… if that was footage of Henry being murdered…?

She dialled Hotch’s private line. “It’s bad.” She said. She heard Hotch’s office door close. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.” He said.

“The sitter is dead. Probably shortly after JJ left this morning.”

“Henry?” Hotch breathed, sweat beading on his brow.

“Missing. And, uh… Hotch… there’s a memory stick here. I, uhm, I don’t think we should tell JJ until one of us has, y’know… watched it…” Those last words were almost inaudible as the horror of what might be on that stick became apparent.

“Oh God.” Hotch breathed, rubbing his forehead. “Do you want to … bring it in, and…”

“No. I’ll watch it through. So we know how to proceed with JJ.” Emily said.

“Emily…you don’t have –“

“I do. I’ll uhm…call you… soon.”

*

As soon as she could, Emily ran to her car and sped back to Quantico – the speed limit could kiss her ass this time. She dialled Hotch as she drove. “He’s alive!” she said, pressing her foot harder on the accelerator. “I’m on my way. Get JJ. She’ll need to see this!”

*

Hotch limited the viewing to himself, JJ and Emily.

“Is it…” JJ couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I’ve seen it.” Emily nodded. “Henry’s alive. But… you need to see it.”

“Sit down.” Hotch urged JJ, connecting the stick to his tablet.

Janine was whimpering on the floor, in much the same position as Emily had found her. She’d clearly been assaulted already. A man - visible from the chest down, walked across the screen.

“Askari?” Hotch asked.

JJ shook her head. This guy was trimmer than Askari and his hands were white. “Hastings.” She said.

Hastings, still only seen from the waist down – pulled out a handgun and shot Janine. The sound echoed through Hotch’s office – but it was the scream, the little boy’s scream, that shook everyone to their core.

“OH GOD!” JJ screamed. “Henry is THERE! Oh, Jesus, please don’t let him have seen it.” While Henry continued to cry, Askari’s face emerged on screen.

“Agent Jareau.” He smiled, his tone unctuous. “Jennifer.” His teeth glinted as he smiled. “You will need another sitter, I think.” Somewhere off-camera Hastings laughed. “This one” Askari continued “has gone to a better place.” His eyes hardened. “I thought a great deal about you over the years, Jennifer. I wanted to come for you. I had a plan to kidnap you, you know? My forte is torture and… oh… I was very much looking forward to making you scream.” He chuckled. “But Hastings here… he said that you were the type to grit your teeth and go to God rather than give me your tears and your screams. He said that the best way to make you scream was… to make HIM scream.”

Askari turned to camera to where Hastings stood holding a sobbing Henry. “Mommy! Daddy!” Henry cried over and over again.

“My friend Hastings has a special way with children.” He said as Hastings pinched Henry, making the boy shriek and sob even harder. “Don’t worry. If you get lucky, you might find him before it is too late. And I will let you swap places with him.” He smiled once more before the screen went black.

JJ sat motionless in the chair, her eyes staring at the screen, her fingers digging into the arms of the chair. “That bastard.” She breathed. “That fucking low life piece of shit. I’m going to kill him. I swear to God if he touches my son one more time!”

“We’ll all get him.” Hotch told her, watching as his Agent shook, her whole body rigid with tension.

“How do we find him?” she hissed. “How do we GET MY SON BACK?!” Her voice rose to a shout.

“He wants you to find Henry.” Emily reminded her. “He wants you, JJ. He won’t hurt Henry. Henry is a bargaining chip.”

“How can you be so sure?” JJ spat, turning her frustration and anger onto Emily.

“I know. I know his type.” Emily said softly.

“What, like Ian Doyle?” JJ shouted. “You thought you knew how to handle HIM and you wound up DEAD!”

“Not Ian. Other terrorists.” Emily said softly. “I was a hostage once. It’s all about the End Game with them.”

JJ stood and jabbed a finger at Emily. “I don’t want to hear your theories when MY SON is the one in danger!” With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out, the door slamming hard behind her.

“She’s angry…” Hotch offered.

“Yeah.” Emily nodded.

“How long do you think we have before…” Hotch trailed off.

Emily shrugged. “Two days, if we’re lucky. He won’t wait longer than that. He’ll kill Henry if we take too long.”

*

As soon as she got to her hotel room, Emily set up a video call with Clyde. She watched his face appear as the screen came to life, a sigh on his lips, and she spoke before he had the chance. “Do NOT tell me you can’t find them, Clyde.” Her tone was a stern warning.

Clyde shook his head apologetically. “Em…it is not so easy to –“

“I don’t give a fuck Clyde. You FIND them! They have JJ’s son, Clyde. He’s only five, and you know what they’ll do to him. I WILL NOT let anything happen to that boy.”

Clyde nodded and scratched at his chin. “Look…there might be something I can do, but –“

“Do it, Clyde.” She ordered, before softening her voice. “Please.” She sighed. “Look, I’m sorry… but I don’t want to find another memory stick with footage of them killing him. I…I can’t… I can’t let that happen.” She wiped at a tear that feel to her cheek. “Jesus Clyde... these bastards are cruel.”

He nodded. “I know. Look…give me an hour, okay?” He gave her a wink and a nod. “Trust me.” He cut the call and Emily sighed.

It was past midnight already for her, and she padded to the kitchen to fix herself a lethally strong coffee as she waited for Clyde to call back.

As Emily sipped at her coffee, her mind ran over and over the situation. Askari had been in JJ’s home. He killed the babysitter… took Henry. But where would he go? They’d only been in the country a few days. They had no allies here to speak of – certainly no one Clyde could find – that would help them hide out. It was JJ they wanted. And they wanted JJ to find them.

“Fuck.” She breathed. “I know where they are.” She sent Hotch a text and scribbled a note as she grabbed her coat and flew out of the door.

[angel-inked]

Silenced Fire: Chapter 11, Monster

Happy wip Wednesday!

This one was wrote a little bit ago but I've been busy lately so you'll have to bare with copy and paste lol

Taglist: @thursday-september-twelfuhthuh @thequeenofthewinter (if you want to be tag send me an ask)

Rose decided she'd better pay a visit to her folks the next day, Forrest wouldn't admit but he was counting down the seconds until she got back. Forrest felt like he was missing something, that something was Rose. He sat next to Jack with his back to the bar, as Howard handed Jack a vodka and started pouring a whiskey for Forrest. "So, uh.. Forrest, you and Rose?" Howard smirked. Forrest turned to his brother in confusion "sense when did you know anything about that?" He asked, taking the glass Howard slid toward him. "Jack 'nd I saw you guys in the kitchen last night" Howard explained. Forrest groaned, gulping some of his drink. "If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was nice to see you happy like that" Jack chimed in, as he leaned his elbows on the bar counter. Forrest downed the rest of his drink, gripping his whiskey glass tightly. "Ya need some more?" Howard asked. Forrest looked towards the wall and back at the glass in his hand, he sent it flying and smashing against the hardwood. "I guess not" Howard exclaimed, taking that as an answer to his question. Forrest rubbed his head roughly with his hands, groaning once again. "Forrest..." Jack murmured, reaching his hand out to touch Forrest' shoulder. "Jack, don't touch me" Forrest snapped, sending Jack flinching backwards. Forrest stood from his stool and picked up his hat that was hanging on the back of a nearby chair, placing it on his head. neither of his brothers dearing to say anything as he frustratedly walked out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Forrest sighed, he needed to clear his head. "What is happening to me?" He thought, trying to wrap his head around all the wayward feelings in his gut. He noticed a deer near the edge of a field that ran along side the gravel road he found himself walking along. He had a tense urge to tear the doe to pieces, he resisted. Forrest recalled something he hadn't mentioned to anyone. when he was being held hostage, one of the Silencer's men had pointed fangs and he sunk them into Forrest' shoulder. Forrest hasn't felt right since, it's like something is gnawing away at the inside of his mind. Something's... yearning to be let loose. "Forrest Bondurant" a voice said behind him, he turned around to see who the voice belonged to. Hmft, cops. Nothing Forrest couldn't handle "can I help you?" Forrest shrugged, he figured he could handle a couple law givers on his own. "I think you already know the answer to that" the one who seemed to be in charge spoke up. This man had a rusty sheriff's badge, so Forrest figured he could safely assume the constable's authority, the other only wore a deputies badge.

Forrest sighed, he walked towards the pair for a few minutes. The two men glanced at each other, not believing the notorious moonshiner would just turn himself in. This was their first mistake, never take you're eyes off a Bondurant. Forrest took the opportunity to draw his colt 38, blowing a hole in the deputies shoulder. The sheriff retaliated, shooting Forrest in the leg, in an attempt to immobilize him. Forrest drop to his knee, his injured leg giving way with him. "Give up now or I won't hesitate to use lethal force!" The sheriff yelled. Forrest looked up at the man, who was eagerly awaiting his reply, Forrest eventually found his footing and stood up. The sheriff suddenly had the look of fear in his eyes, as fur began to cover Forrest. Black fur engulfed Forrest. he snarled, as the sheriff shot Forrest in shoulder, only enrageing him more. As Forrest' new form longed forward, the sheriff slashed him with a hunting knife in a last ditch effort to defend himself, before having a set of strong wolf jaws latched down around his head, snapping it clean off.

Forrest shifted back into a normal looking man, breathing heavily. "What the hell am I?" He mumbled, looking at the carnage layed out in front of him. Forrest looked down at the damage done to his leg, it was... healing? What is happening?. Forrest stood for a moment, watching until the gunshot wound disappeared. He felt his shoulder, his hand readily found the injury left by the lawmans knife, next to his other gun wound. Those too were disappearing as they healed rapidly. The only thing left of the wounds was the blood and torn clothing.

"Hopefully he didn't get kidnapped again" Howard grumbled, as nightfall hit blackwater station. "Or worse.." Jack added softly. Howard slapped Jack with his hat "don't say that!" Howard scolded, he didn't want to think about the worst that could happen considering what Forrest had already been through. Howard sighed, running his hands through his messy brown hair. He walked out onto the porch for some fresh air, Howard perked up as he noticed an orange glow near the edge of the woods. "How.. Howard what in tarnation are you staring at?" Jack asked, shutting the door behind him. "Look's like somethin' on fire" Howard explained, glancing between the glow and his baby brother. "Huh, any idea what that's about?" Jack asked, eyeing the orange light for himself. "No, but we'd better check it out" Howard replied, placing his hat on his head, pulling it down low.

Forrest shifted back and forth nervously, his face flush with heat from the blaze. His bottom lip trembled slightly, as he reached his hand out to the flame. If this healed up as quickly as his other wounds did, he wasn't sure what he'd do. "Forrest!" Howard's voice called from behind him, causing him to jerk his hand back from the inferno. Forrest didn't turn around to face his brother, he just stared into the fire. "Forrest? Are you okay? You're scaring me" Jack uttered, just loud enough to be heard. Forrest didn't speak, just signaled for his brothers to come to him.

Howard and Jack compiled, walking up to the barrel of fire their brother seemed to be hypnotized by. "Damn Forrest" Howard exclaimed, soon as he saw the front half of his little brother "you look like you got in a fight with a bunch of pigs". "Not the kind of pigs you're thinking of" Forrest mumbled, clutching his hat to his chest with one hand and the other stuffed in his cardigan pocket. "You get into with cops?" Howard asked, his eyes narrowing. "Yep" Forrest nodded, still not moving his eyes from the flickering flame. Forrest swallowed a hard lump in his throat, it feels like he's hiding some kind of dirty secret from his brothers. "Forrest" Jack said, breaking the silence between the brothers. "What's wrong?" He added. "You're gonna hate me.."  Forrest murmured, finally shifting his gaze from the fire to the ground. "Why would we?" Howard asked, grabbing Forrest by the shoulders. "You are our brother and you will always be our brother, no matter what. You understand me?" Howard explained, staring Forrest dead in the eyes. "But.. there's a monster inside of me" Forrest murmured, the look in his eyes saying he was scared. There usually wasn't anything that scared Forrest, that told Howard this was serious.

"You're not making a lot of sense right now Forrest, could you be a little more specific?" Howard asked softly, trying to come across as comforting to Forrest. "I'll show you" Forrest muttered, walking away from Howard. "Promise you won't freak out?" Forrest asked, after putting some space between him and his brothers. Howard and Jack glanced at each other, both turning back to Forrest whilst nodding. "Wouldn't dream of it" Howard smiled, a genuine smile at that, not just the devious smile he usually had, a proper genuine smile. Forrest bit his lip and nodded, he aloud himself to transform once again. Howard and Jack stared at each other in disbelief, was this really happening? In place of their middle brother stood a jet-black wolf, the moonlight glistening off it's glossy fur. "Forrest? Is that really you?" Jack asked taking a step forward, trying not to let on to Forrest that he was slightly afraid, they promised him they wouldn't be.

The wolf slowly nodded, before reeling his head back in a long winded howl. He layed down covering his face with his paws. "Hey" Howard exclaimed quietly, "I think you're kinda cool lookin'" he explained, running his hand along Forrest' back in a petting motion. Jack found his nerve and moved forward, kneeling next to Forrest and copying Howard's actions. Suddenly, a car was heard. Pulling into the driveway, "I'd say that's you're Rose Forrest" Howard chuckled, "Uh.. you can change back, right?" He asked nervously. Forrest stood, moving in front of his brothers slightly. He regained his human form easily, despite only having discovered his powers, Forrest found them quite easy to control. "Heh" Howard exclaimed, picking up Forrest hat and handing back to him "that's quite the ability you got little brother" Howard smirked, clapping his hand down on Forrest shoulder. Forrest shook his head, following his brothers towards the station building. "Forrest!" Rose yelled, as soon as she saw his bloodied and ripped clothes. "What happened?" She exclaimed. "Oh, ol' Forrest got into it with a couple cops but he's alright" Howard smiled, patting Forrest on the shoulder. "Hey, uh.. Howard and I saw a big black dog wondering around this morning. I don't know if it's lost or what, so just keep your eyes open" Jack warned, Rose nodded. Forrest grunted, not sure if Howard and Jack were trying to cover his ass or trying to cover their own.

[cileevi]

The Speed Of Pain: Mischief

Chapter Three

London, England

New Years' Eve 1997

Charlotte

It's so damned cold outside. The coldest day of this winter as a matter of fact. Which means I've been inside all day in my pajamas reading a script my agent sent me and drinking hot cocoa. The movie is called Pleasantville. I don't know if the role is a good fit for me honestly. It's about a brother and sister who get sent into a nineteen-fifties sitcom. Not really something I'm into.

I also have scripts for two animated movies. Both are about bugs funnily enough. Between the two, A Bugs Life is the clear winner. Princess Atta is kick ass and I love the story. 

I'm also about to start recording a demo so hopefully, I'll be very busy come nineteen ninety-eight. Blowing hot breath across the window pane I draw a heart on the glass. It looks terribly gloomy outside. I love this time of year though. Aimie, Kelly, Jack, and I have been sledding every day this week with the auto sleds Dad got us for Christmas. 

We had a good one this year. In fact, the only thing that would have made it better is if Marilyn could have joined us. After Ozzfest ended he shocked the hell out of me by asking if I would join him on the Canadian leg of his Dead To The World tour. 

As you could imagine I didn't say no. After that night in Vegas, we became inseparable. Until now that is. He's finishing up the rest of the tour and then heading to L.A. to record the next album. I guess I'm just a bit conflicted with the thought of not seeing him for a while.  

It's left me very confused in many ways. Clearly, he's into me, but as of yet hasn't made a move. There were a couple of times I was seconds away from doing it myself, but every damn time someone would interrupt us. It has me all kinds of confused and bewildered. 

" I know that look. " Sharon says nearly scaring me to death. " You're missing him, yes? "

She laughs at my expression. " He hasn't called. I know I could have stayed with him, but I wanted to spend this time with you guys. Do you think he's angry? "

" Of course not. I think he's busy. This tour is a big deal for him and the band. Don't you worry, he'll call soon you'll see. Now have you made a decision on what movie you want? " 

" A Bugs Life. " I tell her with a shrug. 

Smiling fondly at me she says, "Somehow I knew you'd pick this one. Come now, it's almost time to prepare for the party. "

The party she's speaking of is just a family affair. Home-made pizza, cupcakes, and booze for the adults. A proper Osbourne New Year in London. 

...

Dad takes a piece of freshly cut pizza off of the tray and juggles it back and forth in his hands. He blows on it a few times before taking a bite. 

" It's a bit too hot. " He says with a burnt tongue while Aimie and Jack laugh. 

I give him a " really? " look. " You just saw me take that tray out of the oven and cut it. "

" Oh, fuck off Schroeder. " He says with a wave of his hand. 

Shaking my head I turn back around to see Kelly running into the kitchen. " Marilyn's on the phone. He wants to talk to you. " 

" Thanks, Kels. Keep an eye on the pizza in the oven. " I say before heading up into my room. Picking the receiver up, I clicked line five. " Hello? "

Took you long enough. 

I could say the same thing to him but don't. " Are you trying to be cheeky? "

I'm all cheek, honey. How was your Christmas? 

" It was great. I got to see my other brothers and sister. " I'm talking about Jessica, Elliot, and Lewis of course. All three are older than I am and we never get to see each other. "  It's always fun when all the Osbourne kids get together. "

Uh-huh, now tell me how much you miss me.

No, he did not. There's no way I'm that transparent that he could pick up on it over the phone. 

"Conceited much? " I joke. 

Maybe I just want to know that I'm not the only one feeling separation anxiety.

My heart jumps in my chest and I have to be honest. " I really miss you... More than I thought I would actually. " 

Now was that so hard?  

I stick my tongue out knowing he can't see me. 

You didn't just do what I think you did.  

" I don't know what you're talking about. " I say faking nonchalantness. 

I want to see you... What do I need to do to make that happen?

" Clarification. " I say quickly before I can take it back.

On what?

" On us. " I answer and I swear he's silently laughing on the other end. 

Us?

I roll my eyes. " Yeah. You know what I mean. " 

Does my girlfriend really need clarification? 

I roll my eyes. " Was that so hard? " I throw back in his face. 

 Nope. You've been mine since Vegas. Hell, all I've been able to think about is you since we separated, happy now? The band has been in hell since Canahda. ( his own weird pronunciation of the country )They're all confused as fuck. It's pretty funny actually.

Now that is funny. I can see him being such a dick from the rest of the band for kicks. 

" Okay. When? " I ask not being able to wait. 

Right now. Come downstairs. 

I can feel my forehead wrinkle in confusion. " What? " 

You heard me

Click

Running back downstairs I go from room to room before finding everyone eating without me. Marilyn turns around and gives me a mischievous smile

that makes me want to melt into a puddle. Damn, what is this man doing to me? 

His smile widens when he realizes the effect he's having. Kelly gives me the same mischievous grin and everything clicks. She set me up. 

" This pizza is delicious. " He says before taking another bite of his slice. 

Kelly smiles proudly. " Lotty and I made it. " 

" She cooks too? " He asks her in mock shock. " Where's the Parson when you need him? " 

I know he isn't making a marriage joke because of my cooking. I do feel a bit proud though. He barely eats any other time. I will note that he finished his first piece and is now starting on a second. A feeling of triumph flows through me.

" My mom and I took a cooking class when I was in high school. I've been teaching Kelly the basics because lord knows she won't learn from this one. " I say pointing at Sharon. 

She makes no excuses. " I prefer to lend my talents elsewhere. " 

Getting a couple of pieces of pizza I sit in between Jack and Kelly. Looking over at dad, he's chowing down on his food and not the least interested in the conversation. 

" We even made brownies for dessert. " Kelly tells him before lifting the lid off of the display tray in the center of the table. 

He looks at the treats like a crackhead looks at the crack. " I'm not going to fit into my clothes anymore after this visit. " He says as he swipes one of the brownies off of the tray.

" Good. " Sharon says as she fills everyone's glass with red wine. " You're too thin. It will do you some good to let Charlotte fatten you up a bit. " 

Subtle Sharon, real subtle. 

&lt;>

After eating I take Marilyn on a tour of the house. It's actually very beautiful and I love getting to come out here. We end up in the grandiose studio sharing a piano bench facing each other and chatting. 

" You could have told me you were coming. " I say when there's a lull in the conversation.

Resting his hands on my thighs he leans in closer. " I wanted to surprise you. Besides, we missed Christmas and I wanted to give you your gift. " 

I cock my head as he pulls out a small wrapped package from the inside of his jacket. " You didn't have to get me anything. " 

" It isn't much, but I think you'll like it. " He says as I unwrap the paper to reveal a framed picture of us from last month. 

It was taken after one of the shows. I'm straddling his lap and he's allowing me to touch up his makeup before we headed out to some party. We're both looking into each other's eyes with huge smiles on our faces. Who even took this photo?

" Wow. I love it, thank you. " I say genuinely touched by his gift. 

Looking at his face, his eyes bare down into mine and I scoot closer to him. Just like magnets, our mouths gravitate until we're sharing a sweet kiss. One of the sweetest I've ever received and it's from someone known as the antichrist. 

Such an oxymoron. 

Reaching to my ear, I take one of my dragon hoops out of my left earlobe and hook it in his. 

" Hot. " I say while flicking it back and forth. 

He fingers the earring himself and smiles a bit. " That your way of marking your territory? " 

" I like the thought of a piece of me always being with you. " I say simply. 

Lacing our fingers together he says, " I like the thought of you always being with me ". 

" Me too. " I say shyly into his neck. 

I feel his heartbeat rapidly against my chest and it makes me shiver. It's good to know that I have just as much of an effect on him.

" Play me something. " He says gesturing to the piano. 

Knowing how much he loves it when I play, I oblige. Turning around in the correct position I place my fingers on the keys and start playing. 

" When they push when they pull tell me, can you hold on? When they say you should change can you lift your head high and stay strong? Will you give up, give in, when your heart's crying out that it's wrong? Will you love you for you at the end of it all? 

Now in life, there's gonna be times when you're feeling low. And in your mind insecurity seems to take control. We start to look outside ourselves for acceptance and approval. "  

" That sounds good, Schroeder. " Dad says from the doorway having heard the music from down the hall. He takes a seat and I turn to face both of them. 

" Thanks, Dad. " I say smiling at him from over my shoulder. " It still needs work. " 

Marilyn nudges me with his shoulder. " I love your voice. It's like an onion, it has layers. " 

"Your voice when you're singing and not screaming is nice too. " I tell him honestly. 

His eyebrows or lack there of raise in surprise. " Think so? " 

I nod. " Yup. You can sing to me any day. " 

" What do you have scheduled for the foreseeable future? " He asks slyly after thinking about it for a few moments. 

Thinking, I say, " nothing until I start working on A Bugs Life next month ". 

" Good. " He says with a nod. " I have some time off so we're heading to L.A. in the morning. I want to get another tattoo on the strip. " 

Did he just make the decision for me? Again- Kind of hot. 

" Don't go getting any ideas, Schroeder. " Dad cuts in. " Tattoos are unnecessary. " 

" Says the guy with over ten. " I tease. 

Shaking his head he says, " I'm just saying, you don't just get one. One always leads to twenty. " 

Marilyn watches the banter between us in interest. 

" And I'm just saying, it's pretty hypocritical. " I tell him challengingly.  " If I want one, I'll get one. " 

Dad glares at me from behind his glasses. " I guess I'm just chopped liver, man. How I feel doesn't matter. " 

" When it comes to my body you sure are chopped liver, sorry Daddy. Things change when one becomes an adult. " I clarify for him. 

He waves me off. " Oh, fuck off, Schroeder. " 

I giggle knowing I won. 

Marilyn

Charlotte leaves Ozzy and I alone in the studio to help Kelly clean up the kitchen. It's hard to believe that she's so domestic but it's a good change of pace with the women I've been dealing with as of late. A woman that knows her way around the kitchen is always valuable to have around. And if she's good in the bedroom... Well, she's a keeper. Not that I've had the pleasure... Yet. 

Realizing that I'm thinking of fucking Ozzy's daughter right in front of him I clear my throat and turn to face him. 

" You know I don't mind Charlotte hanging around you. " He says as if he knows my every thought. " You're a good lad and it's evident that you're smitten. " 

Smiling nervously I say, " I just want you to know that I've been a complete gentleman in every way. It's all on her terms. " 

" As it should be. " He says with a shrug. " If I've learned anything about women it's to let them lead where sex is concerned. " 

He has never lied to me. I've always let women make the first move. And with Charlotte being a virgin I have to reel in my raging hormones. I know from experience that moving too fast with a virgin can scare them off. Especially with what I'm packing in the dick department. 

Needless to say, I'm ready whenever she is. " I really do like her. " I tell him seriously. " She isn't just some girl on the road. I'm fully aware of how lucky I am that she gives me the time of day. " 

" Don't sell yourself so short, Manson. She's just as smitten with you, you know? " He promises wholeheartedly. 

Only time will tell I guess. 

[crystalcow]

𝑀𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑠//𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑

Master list // part one // part three

Dreamwastaken x !child reader !p Dreams childs death scenes

Pronouns used: none specified

Warnings: death, loneliness, betrayal

»»————-　⚠︎︎　————-««

♥︎♥︎♥︎

“My dad loves me, I don’t know what your talking about!” I shouted at the man infront of me. We stood outside next to the large ocean, small waves puddling on the sea front.

The trees were blowing with the strong wind, during the rare occurrence of a storm in the area. Rain was pouring down, leaving me and Fundy both soaked. The chill running down my spine.

“Then why are you out here? Why are you here sneaking out during a fucking storm? Instead of being inside, curled into a blanket while reading a book with your so called dad.” I scoffed at the fox, my small iron axe in the dark.

“He’s not here with me because, he’s fiddling around and throwing arrows at your father. The one who destroyed my family!” I took a swing out at Fundy as he easily blocked in defense.

I squirmed off to the side catching my break on a tree. The waves getting stronger by the second. “He destroyed your family? He’s the reason why I couldn’t grow up. Why I lost my best friend.” I stopped in my tracks looking out behind me.

“Do you really think I enjoy this? That I enjoyed watching how people run when I walk by, or how whenever my dad comes home he’s covered in scratches.”

We both stopped looking at one another, faint flames dying out. Lightning strikes in the distance, tears mixed with the water in the terrifying storm. I suddenly felt weak, the axe in my hand weighing down like a ton.

I dropped down to my knees mud spreading on my clothes. Before the last thing I saw..

Fundy slashing a sword through my chest

𝐘/𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐈𝐭𝐬𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐲

-------

♡︎♥︎♥︎

“Quackity, come on man.” I said, reluctantly pulling one of the levers. I jumped as the tnt below me added to the large crater below me. Death messages flooded through my communicator.

“Y/n step away from the tnt.” Quackity carefully approached me as I backed up, tears streaming down my face. I smiled at the chaos that has been unleashed infront of me.

The withers obliterating all those people, Tommy screaming as his Lmanburg gets destroyed and everything with it. A little ping to my heart as my best friends cries.

“Why hermosa, come over here.” I stayed put taking the lighter Uncle Sapnap gave to me when I was younger. He always told me to start fires where I went, a little flame in the rain.

“You know Alex, you haven’t talked to me since schlatt died, no one did. They all looked at me and scowled, making sure I felt like shit every single time.” I looked up, guilt washed over his face.

I looked and smiled at my fathers laughs, something I haven’t heard in a while. “I lost everyone over the past couple months. My uncles who treated me like I had the world in my hands for years, Tommy who I considered my best friend but ended up using me. The trust of everyone on this damn server, hell even you!”

I walked up to the duckling poking a finger at him every single sentence. I reached for my dagger read to slash it through his chest, as I suddenly felt I was falling. Down into the pits of what was Lmanburg.

Falling into grace, my hair blowing through my hair and felt nothing but pain as I hit the ground.

𝐘/𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝗼𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝗼 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝗼 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲𝐇𝐐

༻✧༺

♡︎♡︎♥︎

I looked at the communicator in my hand, moving the sad face mask to the side. Tommy’s dead? He’s been beaten to death, by my father.

I looked around the area as I leaned against the hotel, Jacks been making me fix it after I blew part of it up. Once I got out of the prison jail cells I’ve been out straight to work. Yet those cells feel a lot more like home then my actual one.

The cold material of tinted glass on my back. I ran a hand through my hair the idea of Tommy’s screams for help, his face all bloodied up and bruised. Waiting for the end to come..

People were already building memorials and placing red and white flowers outside his house. I spotted Tubbo in the distance, his goat horns looking more and more like schlatt each day.

I wonder how he felt, he shouldn’t care tho. He’s the reason why Tommy was exiled for a year. He’s at fault why he was alone. There was a glint of the netherite axe hes carrying behind him.

“What’s up.” I said plainly, the one revealed eye staring at him. I looked at the boy up and down, an apron over his green button up, snowchester coat discarded.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” I tilted my head raising a brow. “Would you like to specify? There’s a lot of things I’ve been doing recently, one of them being your mom.” I laughed to myself, Tubbo clearly not amused.

“Tough crowed today I guess..” I continued to look at him right in the eye before drawing my attention to the floor. “Your the reason why Tommy’s dead.” I looked up confused.

𝐘/𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐮𝐛𝐛𝗼_

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This was fun to write because people really love the child reader stuff’ if you want me to continue this or work other smp members I can!

Ask or request anything and ask if you wanna be on a taglist!

[whaleofatjme1920]

In a Mirror Image (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 In a Mirror Image

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: blood, language, cheating (both physical but it's not like, in your face, and emotional)]

Part 1

The flowers that grow like weeds in your lungs bloom thicker and thicker every day. Your vision clouds with blue more often than not, and you can’t think about anything but the blossoms and blood that paint the bathroom with a hue you’re already much too used to. It’s a painful existence, and it’s getting worse. One of the most wretched parts? You’re deteriorating so fast that your vision no longer services you. You are blind, unrendered to see. You still choose to live in a delusion, and you are amongst the only who choose not to acknowledge it.

By now, everyone knows but only one other than you refuses to acknowledge it.

You hear Hoodie arguing with Jack more often than not. It seems the blond haired proxy is angry over what Jack has done to you and because he knows what Hanahaki does to those it takes root in.

“You’ll fucking kill her,” Hoodie seethes as he gets in Jack’s face for the fourth time this weekend. “Look at her-”

“I am!” Jack shot back, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. “Who are you to come in here and speculate on something that you’re not a part of?” He growls. Normally, Jack likes talking to Hoodie, but not when Hoodie’s on a mission to prove Jack a sinner.

“I wasn’t even aware you still had one,” Hoodie retorts through grit teeth. “I can’t believe you. Look at the flowers Ja-” and before he can continue tearing into Jack, he hears your bedroom door open.

While you still share the room with Jack, neither of you are in it at the same time. You’ve taken residence up on the living room couch with Kate and Jack more often than not stays with Leia. The room you share is usually empty, much like your heart.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Hoodie suddenly greets you as you tiredly walk into the kitchen where the two men had previously been in a standoff. “Did you sleep okay?” He asks, voice so much softer and gentler with you than what he had just been using.

You shake your head as you take a seat at the table. “I can’t sleep,” you say.

Hoodie’s brows furrow in sympathy before they knit in frustration when Jack sits next to you. He watches as Jack snakes his arm around you before he presses an empty kiss to the side of your head.

“No?” Jack says in a sickly saccharine tone. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Does that sound good to you?”

You nod slightly, the ghost of a smile on your lips. “That sounds good,” you murmur back.

“Anything for you,” he hums as he pulls you in closer to his side.

“You disgust me,” Hoodie hisses to Jack as he gets up and pushes in his chair roughly, making the table bounce. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Jack for a second as he leaves, roughly slamming the front door behind him.

“What was that about?” You ask, feigning innocence. You refuse to open your eyes to the situation you are in.

“He’s having a bad day,” Jack answers. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he hums as he presses another kiss to the side of your head.

The butterflies in your stomach are dead, but the flowers blood evermore.

“You’re still sleeping out here?” Kate hums as she takes a seat next to you on the couch. She looks exhausted and she’s covered in blood. Her mask is cracked too.

“I guess,” you yawn as you shift slightly from your not so comfortable position. “How has your day been?” You ask as you reach for a glass of water only to see it’s not there.

“Let me,” Kate says as she gets up once more. She knows you’re getting worse. After getting you a bottle of water from the fridge, she comes back to your side. “I’ve had a busy day. Met with an independent named Nyein. They remind me of a big cat,” she finally answers as she opens the water bottle for you.

You take it and begin to slowly sip from it - it stops the flowers from blooming ever so slightly. Your airway opens just a little bit. “Do they now?”

Kate nods as she flips mindlessly through the channels. “They said they’re falling in love with a human. Bad business,” Kate winces, her dark eyes watching you carefully. “I hope they don’t…”

“It’s bad business,” you suddenly say as you feel petals fill your mouth. You cough slightly and the small little forget-me-nots fall into your lap, thankfully free of blood this time. You take one of the flowers into your fingertips and observe it gently. “I hope they’re okay.”

Kate puts her hand on your thigh, lightly squeezing before finally settling on the early evening news. “You wanna burn these blue fuckers?” She asks as the flowers in your lap remain stagnant save for the buds that unfurl at an alarmingly fast pace.

You feel the corners of your lips curl into a smile. “Yes.”

Morbid, your flowers have been springing up everywhere. They’ve infested the temporary house. So, you and Kate went around the place, plucking every single one before starting a bonfire in the backyard.

Toby, who considers himself a bit of a pyromaniac, was immediately summoned by the fire the two of you had cast in the backyard. He’d been out on a grocery run, and honestly, he had wanted to get out of the house.

The dynamics of the house had become uncomfortable to him. What with Leia and Jack sneaking off together and you coughing up a full greenhouse, he has been stressed. Toby can’t stand Jack and Hoodie arguing all the time as it reminds him of the life he tried to escape, and Masky can offer so much but ever since he renounced his love for Jay by force… It’s been hard. Toby knows it’s been hard for everyone involved.

He crosses through the house, sneers at Leia’s room, and then exits through the back to the scent of fire. He sees Kate’s arm around you as the fire blazes slightly blue.

“W-What are you g-gals up to?” He asks, coming to your other side so you remain in the middle.

“Burning stuff,” Kate nonchalantly replies. “You care to chuck anything in?”

Toby glances at you as you struggle to keep air in your lungs. “If I d-d-did, I’d be u-under c-charge for killing a-a-another under the O-Operator’s care,” he muses. He’s referring to Jack, of course. He takes in the scent of burning plant matter and blood and frowns when he remembers it’s yours. His hand reaches yours and squeezes gently.

You squeeze back.

Your experiences with Leia are lukewarm at best, and cold at worst. She’s something, she really is something. There’s moments when no one is in the temp house with you except for her alongside you, and those moments are tense, sharp, like a knife and burn colder than the depths of the sea.

The most memorable conversation you’ve ever had was the one that triggered a domino effect that would lead to a black hole in your chest.

“You’re still up?” Leia’s honeyed voice questions softly as she takes a seat across from you on the back porch at the glass table.

You find it more stifling inside so you choose to spend your time out. The weather is warm, afterall. The sun shines and fluffy clouds the size of whales swim overhead. You have a glass of pink lemonade made from a pouch Hoodie and Kate had picked up earlier. You find that the tang is enough to keep the flowers down.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” You say in passing before you sip from the glass. You enjoy watching the rabbits in the backyard. They hop around without a care in the world.

She begins to thread her fingers through her long silver hair, braiding it. “I just think you should be resting,” she says. “You look so tired these days-”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Touched a nerve,” she sighs. “You know you’re getting worse, right?”

You shoot her a glare, but you know she’s right. You’ve actually been holding out surprisingly longer than most people with Hanahaki Disease. Most people succumb to it within a few weeks of coughing, but you’ve managed to hold out for damn near an entire year. That’s almost unheard of. You’ve been hacking up flowers, their stems, roots and blood ever since Leia came into your life.

Everyone tells you that you’re getting worse, but you should have been dead months ago.

“Stop it,” you growl.

“You’re killing yourself,” she continues. “You could just… Let it all go, y’know?” She hums as she continues to fishtail her silver strands. “Renounce your feelings for him and save yourself.”

You grip your glass and set it back down roughly on the table. “That is literally none of your concern,” you repeat, eyes narrowing at the blue eyed beauty across from you. “Acting like you care-”

“I do, though,” she cuts you off. “I know that the Slender Man has big plans for you, but with you wasting away like this… You’ll never live long enough to see them through.” She flashes you a look of concern, but you can tell it’s fake. It shines like pyrite.

“What, so you can take my place just like that?” You bite back. “You can’t even wait until I’m fucking dead?”

Leia giggles and you hate to admit that it sounds pretty. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Daddy always did say I got what I wanted.” Her eyes drift off and you’re able to see she’s no longer thinking about you, but someone who once loved her. She finishes the braid. “Happy six years to you and Jack. Give him all my regards, won’t you?” She stands up, eyes the rabbits feasting on the clover in the grass, before she plucks your half empty glass from in front of you.

“Leia-!”

“It’s not like you need it,” she chuckles.

“It’s a special day,” you said to Masky, a small smile on your face. “It’s our six year anniversary.” Your posture changes to attention as he closes the door softly behind him. He still smells like cigarettes, but it’s a pleasant scent you’ve found comfort in where others find it a nuisance.

Masky put a smile on his face but it didn't reach his eyes. “You need me to draw a portal or something for you?” He holds his arms open to you as you fall into them, part because you’re so weak and secondly because he knows you need the affection - even if he can’t feel it.

You feel light come to your eyes as you nod after leaving a note for Jack in your shared room on his nightstand.

‘Dear Jack, happy six years! I’d wait for you to get back, but I have a surprise for you at the field you gifted to me for our first anniversary. I await you with happiness. Love, R.’

Masky drew the portal in the living room, a mess of swirling cloud-like silvers and blacks before he laid eyes upon the place you once shared only with Jack. “It’s super pretty,” he says, dark eyes scanning over all the wildflowers. There’s weeds on the path, like no one has cared for it in a while. ‘How poetic,’ he thinks. ‘It’s an allegory for your decayed relationship with Jack.’

“No it’s not,” you giggle as you bring Masky down one of the weed and chicory covered paths to the gazebo. “But it’s special to me,” you hum as you take a seat.

Masky follows beside you. He doesn’t take a seat, mostly feeling it wrong to impose on a space that is Jack’s despite his respect for him falling so far from what it used to be, but takes in the scent of dying flowers all the same. It’s summer, and instead of the sun warming the soft petals, it’s burning them. When you cough up more flowers while waiting for the man who still holds your heart (and refuses to return it) you’re less than pleased to see that they blend in with the untamed mosaic.

“Are you still tired?” Masky asks softly as he lights up a cigarette. “You can rest, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

You glance over to Masky before you rest your head in your hands, wondering where your lover is. You listen to the wind as it blows through the leaves. You listen to Masky’s hum, and eventually, you fall asleep.

You wake back up sometime during the night in your bed and not in a position you normally sleep in. It looks like whoever delivered you back here was extra careful with handling you. You only wake up because Jack has accidentally turned on the light.

“Shit, my bad,” he apologizes, quickly plunging the room back into darkness. “Did I wake you?” He knows he did.

“No,” you lie. “I couldn’t sleep anyways.” That was the most rest you’ve had in months. “Where have you been?” You ask quietly, still choosing to remain buried in the sheets.

Jack slides into bed next to you and gets comfortable. He smells like perfume you don’t wear. Through the faint light of the hallway that peeks under your door, you can see he’s got dark marks on his neck and jaw. “Leia wanted to show me her childhood home. Place isn’t run by Zalgo anymore, so we took a trip out there.”

“Did you now?” You hum as you feel tears prick your eyes.

Jack can see you in the dark. His vision at night far surpasses a human’s. He just chooses not to acknowledge it. Jack knows that his relationship with you is gone, and that you’ve been coughing up flowers for the past year. He knows, and it hurts him. Hurts him deeply that he’s the one causing you such pain, but at the same time, he’s a coward. He chooses not to let you go cleanly because his relationship with Leia is so finite.

He knows she only wants him because at the time he was unattainable. Now that she has him, it is only a matter of time until she does to him what he’s done to you. He understands that fully, but he refuses to leave the safety net that is you because he is selfish. His feelings for you aren’t nonexistent, but it’s that kind of fondness one has after the deed has been done, a love based on past memory and sentiment rather than what will and can be. It has reached his threshold, and you both are too caught up in security rather than what is healthy.

“I did,” he says as his mind rushes a mile a minute. “What did you do today?”

You wonder if you should answer that honestly or not. Would he even care? “I stayed here today, nothing special.” You feel the flowers unfurling in your lungs.

Jack hums once more, his back now facing you as he slowly succumbs to sleep.

You met Masky in the bathroom again, hacking your lungs and more of those fucking flowers up into the bathrub and the sink. Hell, you even got some in the toilet. Your body is growing weaker and weaker by the day. The fact you’ve held out for a year is astronomical, but you know you’ll be being taken from it eventually. No one survives Hanahaki when their lover’s feelings aren’t returned. It either gets returned, or you lose them all entirely.

He almost lost you. You broke the mirror when your body went limp as the vines and flowers crawled out from your lungs, through your esophagus and out of your mouth. If it was an art installation piece, Masky might’ve thought it beautiful, but the fact you went cold and limp and the flowers were blooming at a rapid pace - one he thought he couldn’t keep up with.

Masky, despite not being able to really feel anything, panicked as he took you into his arms. Did he genuinely care for you? No, but he cared to whatever extent the surgery left him with. He fretted because you are under his direct care. He cared so deeply because he too had seen many good proxies and independents lost to it. He cared because a part of him remembered what it was like to have daisies and rhododendrons fill his lungs. Normally, you only have one type of flower to clutter your lungs. Science says “just because.” An old wives’ tale says “love truly lost.” In his case? Jay’s death. Nothing was the same after that.

Masky took no hesitation in scooping you up into his arms and running out of the house to the forest to be closer to his boss’s energy. The Operator could fix this should he will it. He didn’t care that the lights in the house went on from his concerned proxies - the ones who had been sick over what befell you since you came into their care. He didn’t dare let you go as he trampled through the brush in the dead of night, using only the moon.

“Sir!” He calls out frantically. “Sir! I need your help!” He can hear your heart get slower and slower.

And just like that, the devoted father came to his child’s cry.

“My child,” he greets, instantly swooping down to look at your pained, flowery visage. “Did I not tell you to handle this?” He chides softly as he takes you into his arms. The sound of static only grows louder and louder.

“I thought she could,” he says, his tone clearly apologetic. “Please, just… Just fix this for me.” He watches the Operator closely as the tall man holds you in his arms.

While you are not exactly his child directly, you are also still under his care. Leia did not lie that the Operator sees good things for you. Without any other words, the tall man is gone, giving you to gods know who to perform a surgery that should be considered the only humane way out.

He returns to the house where Hoodie, Kate and Toby eagerly awaited him, clamoring around him and pecking like hens wondering where you are. He says that you’re in the hands of a god.

You floated in the ether, your body a galaxy. You watched as your chest was torn open - looked like by the hands of an independent that had talons to rival an eagle.

‘There’s so much,’ she says, her mouth turning into a frown as she worked on carefully removing the clusters of flowers. ‘How is she not dead?’

The Slender Man continues to observe, not offering the doctor any words.

The spirals and swirls inside of you continue to swirl before the flowers get torn out, one by one. The roots that cling to your lungs are stubborn, but with every single one removed, the lights of a different universe go out. Snuffed. Lost. The cavity in your chest grows wider until it births a black hole.

‘How much longer?’ The Slender Man asks, watching as the independent calls in another to help her rid your body of weeds.

She shakes her head as she continues to root them out. They bloom under her touch. ‘I have no idea - she must’ve felt so strongly-’

‘They just keep coming up, Sir,’ the other interjects, her four eyes scanning you rapidly.

The black hole begins to suck up the stars and nebulas that comprise your system. It feasts on you, making every part of what made you you, disappear in its depths. It grows larger as it consumes you. It grows heavier. It grows more powerful.

‘We’re almost there,’ the taloned independent says, her wings fluttering softly to emphasize her point. ‘I’ve never seen it this bad before.’

‘Fix this,’ the Slender Man seethes, his patience wearing thin. He knows your body will not be able to handle this much longer.

The black hole reaches its mass, and slowly, it begins to consume you. It overtakes you, bathes you, and leaves nothing left when it has taken all that it can. Your body is empty. You are a shell. Glimpses of blue, grey and reddish brown flash in your mind’s eye and through the eye of the black hole, but you cannot place the feelings you used to associate with them. You remember, but you do not feel.

The last of the flowers are pulled. The taloned independent is exhausted, and her partner is just as tired. ‘Good fucking lord,’ she breathes out, exhausted from the late night gardening session. ‘In all my years I have never seen that awful disease take hold of an individual that bad,’ she notes. Her bird-like eyes watch over your open chest to make sure they’ve fully cleared it out.

A single forget-me-not sprouts, and the Slender Man is the one who plucks it. Just like that, the flowers, their roots, all evidence you’d ever had life inside of you, is gone. Withered and wilted away.

The black hole takes all that you have to offer, and you are back to consciousness, no longer floating, no longer a home to the vibrancy of the universe.

What came after was a bit of a blur. The Slender Man had brought you back to the safe house you had called your home for the past year surprised to see that some of his favored children were still away, waiting for you as the light of the sun rose over the grass. It was a new dawn.

“How is she?” Hoodie asked, immediately springing up.

“Fixed,” was all the Slender Man said, his gaze shifting from you to your group’s leader. “Masky, I’m entrusting you to watch over her as you have been through something similar.”

“Of course,” the dark eyed man says as he takes you gingerly into his arms. “I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else.”

“One last thing,” the tall man in a suit hums. “I am taking Eyeless Jack from this house. Leia will stay with him.”

“It’s probably for the best. We trust your judgment,” Masky replies.

The Slender Man’s head gently cups Masky’s cheek before he leaves them with the sound of static that dissipates as fast as it appeared.

You spent the first few days after your surgery under bed rest. The Slender Man had healed you but he still worried for the state of your lungs. You needed the rest, and you were pleased to have it. Other than that, you felt… nothing. You were numb. Fleeting feelings of happiness or thankfulness, maybe something melancholic would slip through but ultimately, you were nowhere near your old self.

Jack was not allowed anywhere near you. That was one of the first instructions given to him when the Slender Man had popped into his head. While he did not have an opinion on Jack’s unfaithful behavior, he was more displeased with the fact he’d kickstarted the disease in you. The Slender Man thought that if he started it in Leia, then perhaps everything would turn out alright.

So, he sent the two out with a different group - which mostly meant Jeff, someone the Slender Man knew detested behavior that Jack had committed.

It was not easy for Jack to share the same space with Jeff after word had gotten out about you.

“You’re my best friend,” Jeff had sighed one late afternoon, refusing to even acknowledge Leia in the room. “But that? That was fucked up.”

Jack hummed and kept his gaze on Leia, who looked at him with nothing short of adoration. “Sure.”

Jeff sighed once more and stood up. “You don’t feel an inch bad, do you?”

“No.”

“You’re a shitty guy but you’re an even shittier liar.” Jeff broke the door with how hard he’d slammed it on his way out.

Jack really wasn’t the same, that much was apparent. He’d slowly been becoming more withdrawn and quicker to agitation. Of course, he’d take it out on whoever was around to deal with it. Leia included - it just came in a different form. One in which she’d never complained. But when things were rough between them, things were rough.

Jeff could hardly stand the two most days, so when he’d sneak out, it was with his dog to come pay a visit with you. And he hated how dull you had become.

“Masky used to be a lot more personable,” Jeff would say. “Life of the party when we could get him out of his pseudo-philosophical bullshit. Then he hurled flowers and we knew something was wrong.” Jeff’s hand rubs your back gently as a sign of friendship.

“And then?”

“Then he got that stupid surgery and now he’s just existing. No further purpose, just existing because some pale guy says so for his benefit.” Jeff huffed and looked up at the setting sun.

You found your gaze following his.

“What you’re doing right now,” he began. “It’s no way to live.”

“Would you have rather I’d succumbed to it?” You asked, not adding any inflection to whether you’re happy or sad, hurt or even offended.

“In all honesty?” Jeff tore his eyes from the pink and blue sky. “Yeah. This,” he gestured to you. “This isn’t you.”

Everything you’re supposed to feel feels dampened. Instead, you nodded. “Note taken.”

Jeff frowned.

The first time Jack was able to see you after your surgery was nearing halfway to what would have been seven months. It’d been a rough time without him seeing you, mostly because the guilt had been devouring every humanity he had left. Nothing could fill the void.

Like the first time you had met him, it was an accident when you crossed paths once again. You had been clearing out a house one fine winter’s evening, doing what had been asked of you before you got the faintest scent of something familiar and something you once recognized as comforting. You furrow your brows, weapon at your hip as you slowly and quietly come down the stairs.

Your lips are pressed into a thin line as you peer into the living room. Snow falls outside the window.

“Reader?” A male voice asks, turning around from the hallway. “Is that you?”

You tilt your head slightly as you register the mask you’re looking at. Eyeless Jack, mostly just known as ‘EJ’ or ‘Jack’. You’ve never really spent any time with him though outside of little jobs, so you have no idea who this is or why he sounds so happy to see you.

“Uh, hi, EJ?” You say as you walk at a leisurely pace down the stairs.

Jack freezes momentarily as he comes to greet you in the living room. He’d almost forgotten that when the flowers are removed, so too are the memories alongside feelings.”It’s… It’s good to see you,” he says as he looks down at you, wondering if he should touch you or not.

“I guess it’s nice to see you too,” you say. “What are you doing in this area?” You inquire. You vaguely remember the Slender Man not wanting you two to be in the same area.

“Just out and about,” he answers as he scratches at the back of his neck. “Leia wanted to uh, hunt down some of her sisters - I - it doesn’t matter,” he suddenly finishes, feeling much too awkward to even look at you. He knows you don’t remember, but he certainly does. Looking at you… He has a fresh slate.

“That’s nice,” you say in a tone that’s clearly disinterested. You walk towards the living room windows and look into what is now a cold winter’s night. You can see the snow still falling. If you want to make it back to Masky before he gets worried, you’ll need to head out almost immediately. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Jack slowly comes to your side and puts his attention on you, watching as the snow continues to fall. “Yeah, the prettiest,” he says softly, desperately trying in vain to hold back on scooping you into his arms. There’s something scratching at the back of his throat.

You nod once again and zip up your coat. “They’re expecting me,” you say, gearing up to brave the snow.

“Do you need any-”

“No,” you cut him off. You’re not sure why it comes out so harshly, but you figure it must be a remnant of a memory you no longer have access to. “I can manage on my own.” You brush past him and open the front door, eyes momentarily clamping shut at how cold it is before you step onto the porch. The sound of the crunching snow is satisfying.

“Stay safe out there,” Jack says softly, not moving from his place as he continues to gaze out the window at the falling snow.

You turn your head briefly over your shoulder, “and you as well.”

Jack hears the door close and you walk off into the night, back to a group he was barred from. That tickling in the back of his throat grows more and more prevalent until he clears his throat. Feels like there’s something on his tongue. He coughs a few more times before holding his hands in front of his mouth, displeased to see the small blue petals he knows will bloom to full flowers in a time frame that is too long to be considered fair.

[zodiacrant]

🍩My experiences with each Moon sign🍩

(Cause yall are messy)

I have done this a few times before but for Sun signs and did rank placements but never shared my thoughts and experiences with the Moon signs.

Now I know how this goes, so if you get mad or sad then go off I guess. Aint the first time I get cursed out or attacked in this bitch. Plus, I am a Cap moon so naturally I won’t do well with some Moons and I will be nitpicking everything about everyone.

🍩Aries Moon🍩

My dad’s moon. Yup, that tells you alot without me even starting. Having our Moons in Square shit was hard to say the least. It took a long time for us to be on middle grounds and because I don’t feel comfortable talking about my problems here I will continue on. The Aries Moon that I really like and can think of is Rihanna, so I would say it’s unfair to make a whole judgment but from what I saw and heard they’re not exactly the best to be around. So I give them a 3/10 for being bold and having nerve.

🍩Taurus Moon🍩

Now this Moon right here I know people from ( a close friend and my sister, plus some others) and I don’t have many strong opinions about it. As a Taurus Sun, it can be a challenge to work with a Taurus Moon. I am stubborn at my core and they’re stubborn with their heart, so everytime we disagree it’s like a rope pulling contest. Way too stagnant for me but I think that’s because of my other placements and they don’t take any advice or open up no matter what. On to the good, I never disliked someone with this placement. No matter how much of an asshole they can be, to me it is difficult to hate them or stay mad at them. They’re warm, kind, and sweet but a bit aloof and naive, also they don’t like to touch and hug as some people might think. I will give them a 8/10

🍩Gemini Moon🍩

(⚠️TW⚠️ mention of rape and erratic behavior)

I only had one best friend with this placement and I don’t I want to meet any more, and I am at peace with that if they resemble her in any way. She was a maniac. She loved to lie, create drama, blow shit up, act crazy and basically be shocking. I do find similarities with Gemini Sun where they do shit for reactions but with her, she will take it to the next level. Lie about being raped, act possessed, or pretend that she is being followed. It’s not fair to associate her with people who share the same Moon as her but that was y’all’s representation in my life. She was erratic so it’s difficult to see where her Moon was in effect and where she was just off. I’ll give them a 1/10, would not recommend until proven otherwise.

🍩Cancer Moon🍩

The first that comes to my mind is Taylor Swift and to me she is the ultimate Cancer Moon. It juat makes sense how fast she takes it to the next level with people. Whether getting serious quickly with someone or throwing down and feuding. She just always at a 100. Personally, I never got close with someone who has this placement, maybe it’s because I am a Capricorn Moon myself, but I would say the ones that I have met were nice. I’ll give them a 5/10

🍩Leo Moon🍩

I only had one best friend with this placement but the people I have met with this Moon I still remember. They all had one thing in common and that was being emotionally traumatized and have lost one parent. My best friend was super loyal, very confident in what they believed in and represented, were always there for me and had an amazing ability in motivating others. But they were also super prideful and there’s no coming back with them. Fight once and it’s over. (Yes I am looking at you Jonnie). One of the other people was with me in uni and always had the to urge won up me and my friend. He had scars all over and he doesn’t remember how he got them. But he was super proud of himself and his home country, which I respect and admire. I’ll give them a 6/10

🍩Virgo Moon🍩

I know two people with this placement, my mom and a professor at uni, and oh boy it makes sense that they’re a Virgo Moon. Me and my mom are too alike that we clash strongly at times. She thinks she can do it better and I think I can do it better and we just have like a competition on who done it better basically. From cooking, to how you light the stove, to how you put on clothes, to how you lay down on bed. Both my mom and my professor are super critical and precise, althogh my professor is a double Virgo (Sun and Moon) so she will go even further. They have to do everything as it arises and act like there’s no time and everything is about to go wrong. Like damn sis chill the fuck out for a sec and this is coming from a Cap moon so you know it’s bad. But I really like Virgo Moon, even though people might hate such a personality but I can relate to them in some ways. I’ll give them 7/10

🍩Libra Moon🍩

My only online friend that I talk to all the time got this Moon. Other than her I met only two people and they were something. Okay so for my friend, because I never actually have seen her physically with my own eyes I can’t say how she acts all the time, but she is one of the best listeners I had in my life. She likes to hear me ramble for an hour about a dumb encounter that lasted a second, talking about astrology and some nerdy things and then not so nerdy things. I believe that it’s a Libra Moon quality to be emotionally versatile and attentive. I think because she is a Leo dominant she acts much fiery and fiercely than a Libra would. As for the other people I just thought they were fake. One acted as a friend but then would just disappear so I was over it quickly and the other was super passive and pretentious that I think she shits out plastic. All in all I think it’s a great Moon. I’ll give them a 7/10

🍩Scorpio Moon🍩

One of the hardest Moons I ever delt with but I find that I love them too. My oldest sister had this Moon and she is such a mystery. Because I am a Taurus Sun, it is only natural for me to have a hard time with a Scorpio Moon. Even though she is an extrovert, she rarely talks about herself and her feelings, you will never catch her slipping or show vulnerability. I can see how difficult it may be for her being a Cancer with a Scorpio Moon and have Gemini dominance. But she’s a bitch at heart and I am cool with it. I’ll give them 5/10 cause I am not a big fan of paradoxical people

🍩Sagittarius Moon🍩

A moon that I always babysat. I had two best friends with this Moon and if I was born a second earlier, it would mine too. I don’t know if it’s because of my Gemini Venus or my 0 degree Capricorn Moon but I love Sagittarius Moons. I was fortunate to see some of their weaknesses and for them to trust me enough to be vulnerable. But boy do they get themselves into the dumbest situation because they wanted to see what would happen. I had to babysit them and help them do everything like shopping, cooking, cleaning, assembling furniture, be their body guard when buying weed. (Shhhh it’s a secret). They’re in many ways immature cause they run from things and everytime you try to be real with them, they say “stop being negative”. I’ll give them a 9/10

🍩Capricorn Moon🍩

The grande dame of the Moon signs, sitting at it’s opposite planet. I have met many Cap Moons and honestly we are bitches 😂. The energy of sitting next to a Capricorn Moon is too fucking much like I never knew it’s like that. I noticed the way they stare, talk, walk and sit can be so aggressive and intimidating. I see why people might label us as bullies, cause the energy is definitely there and I myself was such a cunt (still a little but I am more aware of myself now) that I get where both are coming from. Life as a Capricorn Moon is emotionally flat. If wasn’t for my other placements you will never see me even flinch. I think we just take everything and let it process in our head before we let it into our hearts. So to me, we’re not mean, we just don’t see how something might be hurtful. But also that tone and that blank face, goddam! That’s why I try to smile cause bitch no, I didn’t know I was walking with a death stare this whole time. Anyways, I will give us 10/10 cause I am self appreciative like that 😂✌️

🍩Aquarius Moon🍩

I have always tried to understand Aquarius Moon and it was only a month ago that I have realized they themselves are not sure of who they’re. I had one best friend with this placement and three cousins (all siblings). First, my cousins are super competitive with each other on who gets to do what and if it happens that they’re similar in something they will get pissed. The person that was my best friend was like that as well. Only he would drop a an entire hobby, interest, something close to his heart, shit even a personality trait. I find them to be constantly changing and trying, so they shift between one end of extreme to the other until they center themselves. I’ll give them a 4/10

🍩Pisces Moon🍩

Now let’s talk about a depressing placement, in my opinion of course 😅. I don’t know if it’s the influence of Neptune on the Moon or is it the just the demeanor of Pisces, but good god girl get a grip (they call this the five G’s). My youngest sister is a Pisces Moon, and as creative as she is, she is pessimistic and overly cynical. I mean I am all for being critical and real but looking at everything with jacked up black sprayed glasses is just too much for me. Other than my sister I don’t know any Pisces Moon very well but I had a few acquaintances. I noticed that they talked about a specific thing and that’s it. I have found them to be amazing at drawing, painting and have an incredible artistic sense. At times twisted and dark, but I love the art that comes with it. I’ll give them a 5/10

Here’s the tea. It’s Pisces season so remember I am sensitive right now, and also it’s my life and I wish I met someone as amazing as you might think you’re. (Maybe that was a little too aggressive)

Okay love you ❤️

[tillidontneedfantasy]

A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 9th Studio Album: ‘evermore’

“My collaborators and I are proud to announce that my 9th studio album and folklore’s sister record is here. It’s called evermore,” is how Taylor Swift introduces us to this album in its foreword. One might assume a “sister record” would entail b-sides, or tracks that didn’t quite make the cut for folklore, despite Taylor’s explanation that “we just couldn’t stop writing songs.” evermore’s release came at a strange time, upon the heels of the Folklore: Long Pond Studio Sessions film on Disney+, as well as 5 Grammy nominations for folklore. The world still captivated by folklore, it’s understandable why one might not consume evermore as critically. Even as a die-hard fan, I felt some whiplash by this announcement; I am still processing folklore! Hell, I’m still processing reputation!

If this was the Taylor from two years ago, this may have been a big enough fear of hers to hold off on releasing evermore. But as she explained upon folklore’s surprise release, life is too unpredictable now, and there are zero givens or guarantees. So she followed the same path this time (although making sure it fell in line with her birthday weekend). But it’s not just the strategic timing of the release that she’s thrown out the window for now, but also her mindset whilst making records. As she explains in the evermore album foreword,

“I’ve never done this before. In the past I’ve always treated albums as one-off eras and moved onto planning the next one as soon as an album was released. There was something different with folklore. In making it, I felt less like I was departing and more like I was returning. I loved the escapism I found in these imaginary/not imaginary tales. I loved the ways you welcomed the dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found. So I just kept writing them.”

This is a revelation for Swift, to let the music lead her into artistic freedom, which is what makes evermore such a triumphant return. Truly folklore’s sister record, Taylor wrote evermore with the same creative team: Aaron Dessner of The National (Swift’s favorite band), long-time pal and collaborator Jack Antonoff, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, and William Bowery aka Swift’s boyfriend, Joe Alwyn (as officially revealed in the Long Pond Studio Sessions). Additionally, former 1989 tour openers and close friends of Taylor, the HAIM sisters, join the crew, along with Marcus Mumford for some dreamy backup vocals.

The production is just as wistful and mesmerizing as it was on folklore, yet the storytelling on evermore is kicked up a notch, expanding on the topics and worldbuilding established in its sister record, with even sharper lyrics and an effective and elaborate use of alliteration. The best thing about Taylor is that no matter what she does, her masterful lyricism is always at the heart of her art, and somehow, she keeps getting better. Once again, I wanted to explore the rich stories she’s crafted in this woodsy universe. This is how I’ve interpreted the album, but I hope you find your own meaning in the songs as well.

1. willow It is fitting that the opening track to folklore’s sister album, where we wade further into the forest that is Taylor Swift’s imagination and storytelling, would center on the type of tree that is a symbol of hope, belonging, safety, stability, and healing. “willow,” one of the few more obviously autobiographical tracks on the album, is a hymn of gratitude for her man (as she wants you to know, yes, thirteen times), Joe Alwyn, and how the invisible string tethering them together pulled her to him in a time when everyone else was counting her out. Though not as present on many of the other songs later to come on this record, you can feel the lightness in her heart on this song as she embraces the way in which the willow has bent, wrecking her plans, throwing her into the water and leaving her happily lost and afloat in his current. The downward key modulation throughout the last two repetitions of the chorus is beautiful and very fitting for Swift vocally, but also sounds like the feeling of finding your comfort and settling into it, basking it in while you wait for the next place the wind pulls you. Best lyric: “Now this is an open/shut case / I guess I should’ve known from the look on your face / Every bait and switch was a work of art.”

2. champagne problems On the second track of the album, Taylor dives back into the fictional worldbuilding she began to explore on folklore. While on folklore high school relationships and dramatics took center-stage, evermore graduates from adolescence to young adulthood, not that it is any easier emotionally on the listener’s heart. “champagne problems” chronicles a rejected marriage proposal between two college sweethearts at their old dorm building. Taylor sings as the narrator, a reflective, self-deprecating young woman who jokes about belonging in a madhouse and dismisses all her turmoil as champagne problems. The term ‘champagne problems’ itself could have various meanings here: their trivial concerns, the fact that their “sister splashed out on the bottle” of champagne that they will not be using to celebrate as they had hoped, or perhaps it could even hint that excessive drinking is a piece of all the ways the narrator is “fucked in the head,” as they said. Although the person she is singing to is the one who got hurt in the story, the hurt in the narrator’s heart is just as palpable and relatable, because you only have yourself to blame when you self-destruct. Best lyric: “’She would’ve made such a lovely bride, / what a shame she’s fucked in the head,’ they said / but you’ll find the real thing instead / she’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.”

3. gold rush On her YouTube live chat prior to the album’s release, Taylor explained that this song “takes place inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it.” The daydream consists of a love story so pure that the town had never seen such a thing; it could only happen in a fantasy for the narrator. How could she possibly have the gall to call them out on their contrarian shit, or end up with her Eagles t-shirt hanging from their door, when they are so coveted by all, and when she cannot withstand the thought of even competing? She sings, “My mind turns your life into folklore / I can’t dare to dream about you anymore,” a sweet little connecting piece to this album’s older sister, effectively convincing herself out of the idea of jumping into the chaos of the gold rush because even inside her own imagination it’s too dangerous. Best lyric: “I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘till the bone crush.”

4. ‘tis the damn season According to Aaron Dessner, Taylor had written the lyrics for “’tis the damn season” in the middle of the night amidst their Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions recording after a long night of chatting and drinking with their co-conspirator, Jack Antonoff. The lyrics perfectly encapsulate the guttural ache the track evokes. It is a tale of two people who always find their way back to one another in their hometown, which acts as the ever-returning fork in the road. The path taken, back to L.A. in pursuit of her dreams, is the one she chose and continues to choose, but whenever she returns home, she takes a ride down the road not taken, just to get a taste of what could have been, even if just for the weekend. What starts off as an icy homecoming always transforms into the warmest intimacy. The success of this track is aligned with the success of Taylor’s entire career; even with such specific details, it feels so deeply personal to the listener. You know the street you’d drive along late at night laughing, the spot you’d park the car, the person who stars in every what-if. You will never really know if the road not taken is as good as it seems, but that might be ok; sometimes, the fantasy is better than the reality, anyway. Best lyric: “It’s the kind of cold / fogs up windshield glass, but I felt it when I passed you / There’s an ache in you / put there by the ache in me.”

5. tolerate it Inspired by the novel Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, “tolerate it” is an agonizing track from the perspective of a devoted wife who polishes plates and paints portraits and waits by the door for her husband with a battle hero’s welcome, who at best tolerates all her adoration. There are few things as painful as idolization being met with indifference, when you have all this love to give to someone who just leaves it there untouched. “tolerate it” captures that desperation for the approval you know will never arrive, but you sit and watch, waiting for it just in case you’re wrong, but you know you’re not. Best lyric: “I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life / drawing hearts in the byline”

6. no body, no crime feat. HAIM “no body, no crime,” the one evermore song solo-written by Taylor, has the clearest plot from beginning to end. In the same vein as the female powerhouse country classic “Goodbye Earl” by The Chicks, Taylor is out for blood to avenge her friend, Este (named for one of the HAIM sisters). The story goes as such: Este’s husband kills her for calling him out on his infidelity, and then Taylor kills the husband and frames his mistress. The HAIM girls, who are long-time friends of Taylor’s and former touring mates, lend their vocals to reinforce the accusation on the husband and to provide Taylor’s alibi. “no body, no crime” is so far the closest we’ve gotten to a return to “country Taylor,” proving that she is still the master of a killer country tune (yes, pun intended, it had to be done I’m sorry). Best lyric: “Good thing Este’s sister’s gonna swear she was with me / (she was with me, dude) / Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy”

7. happiness Written a week before the album’s release, “happiness” is one of Swift’s strongest and most reflective breakup songs. Although she writes it as though it is recent, there’s a lot of power in knowing that she’s been happily in love for four years, and that she is even better now at doing the thing that has always been best at. She is finally “above the trees,” as she sings, and is able to see it all for what it is, but her character is still in the heat of it all, trying to navigate the stages of grief when a relationship ends. We see the narrator grapple with many of those stages throughout the song. Most striking is the anger displayed in the second verse when she sings: “I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you / No, I didn’t mean that, / sorry, I can’t see facts through all of my fury.” That section is jarring and feels like one of the most honest moments in a Taylor song, the insanely difficult emotional balancing act when we are grieving a relationship. The devastation of loss can distort our perception, and a part of that is the difficulty of understanding how multiple seemingly opposing things can co-exist in our hearts, such as happiness because of someone and happiness after them. But when you leave it all behind and finally find your place above the trees, you can find happiness after someone and also look back and appreciate the happiness they once provided. Both of these things can be true. Best lyric: “Showed you all of my hiding spots / I was dancing when the music stopped.”

8. dorothea Taylor Swift has the uncanny ability to create such developed and well-rounded characters with such little information, which is what makes her storytelling so compelling. In “dorothea,” we learn much about the title character through the narrator’s eyes, and the relationship they once had. The lyric “skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes” alone tells an entire story in itself. “dorothea” is also the companion song to “’tis the damn season,” just from the other person’s perspective, which helps shine even more light on the story. The narrator of “dorothea” reveres her but wonders if she’s still the same soul in L.A. as she was back in their never-changing town. Whatever the answer, they’re still willing to support her no matter where she is, but she’s always welcome back in Tupelo by her hometown love’s side if she ever just wants to be herself rather than someone known for who they know. Besides, they’re the only soul who can tell which smiles she’s faking. And you can always return to the road not taken. Best lyric: “They all wanna be ya / but are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? / Well, I guess I’ll never know / and you’ll go on with the show.”

9. coney island feat. The National What really started the folklore / evermore journey was Taylor’s love for The National. Taylor has cited them as one of her favorite bands for many years, and as we know, this led to her beautiful new collaborative relationship with Aaron Dessner. So it would make sense for the track written with the intention of this duet to be so well executed; you can feel the love and care Taylor put into writing this song. In her press for these sister albums, she has spoken about trying to channel frontman Matt Berninger’s writing style. But what actually happened was she just produced her own signature lyricism at its sharpest. “We were like the mall before the internet, it was the one place to be / the mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams / sorry for not winning you an arcade ring over and over,” is a hall of famer Swift-ian lyric. “coney island” explores the confusion, hurt, and self-reflection when a passionate affair burns out fast because you did not prioritize that person. And to top it off, Swift and Berninger’s harmonies are achingly beautiful, transporting you right there in the story, on the bench, wondering, over and over. Best lyric: “Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? / Will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

10. ivy Leave it to Taylor Swift to make a song about an affair sound so romantic, and so sympathetic to the narrator, that you’re rooting for adultery. “ivy” tells the tale of a woman in a lifeless marriage, likening her home with him to the tombstone that the widow in town visits each day. I like to think this is the same wife whose husband was out there building other worlds without her in “tolerate it,” because then that means she found someone who celebrates her love, who holds her pain for her, who blooms all over her; they started it, but she’s fighting for it all the way to the end, nonetheless. “ivy” showcases Swift’s gorgeous vocals and her sharp lyrics, with a melody so infectious it is bound to permanently plant its roots in your dreamland. Best lyric: “Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland / my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you.”

11. cowboy like me With the beautifully blended backing vocals of Marcus Mumford, “cowboy like me” is an entrancing love story of two con artists who lost at their own game and got conned into forever with each other. She’d gone from swindling old men for their money and fancy cars to falling victim to the danger of dancing with someone who only has eyes full of stars, and she knows she’ll pay for it. “cowboy like me” is one of the most romantic tracks on the record, proving that life never plays out quite as we plan. Best lyric: “Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon / with your boots beneath my bed / Forever is the sweetest con.”

12. long story short One of the more pop-sounding tracks on evermore, “long story short” is pretty much a summary of the long story behind reputation (2017). The song is filled with various metaphors for her reputation crumbling around her, and then finally putting her defenses down to be with her lover, someone as “rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky.” It is a sweet ode to her boyfriend, and a gentle comfort to her past self that it will all work out. But it is also an oddly relatable example of how we shrug off our struggles and minimize them to just a “bad time,” when the time she is singing about was obviously something that deeply affected her (as will be further explored in the title track); but sometimes it actually feels good to just shrug it off as just a blip in your life, because at the end of the day, you survived, and that’s what counts- even if you’re not keeping score anymore. Best lyric: “Pushed from the precipice / clung to the nearest lips / long story short, it was the wrong guy. / Now I’m all about you.”

13. marjorie Whereas track 13 on folklore was a tribute to Swift’s paternal grandfather, evermore’s track 13 is a tribute to her maternal grandmother, Marjorie Finlay, who was an opera singer in the 50s, and passed away in 2003 when Taylor was 13 years old. “marjorie” is quite possibly the most touching track Taylor has ever written thus far in her career. Grief is one of the most difficult topics to tackle in a song; the genius of “marjorie” is that it is simple, yet not understated. Swift reflects on the profound lessons she learned from her grandmother, about the difficult balances of kindness and cleverness, and politeness and power. She curses herself for not cherishing the moments she had with her, for complaining rather than understanding in the moment how admirable her spirit was, for all the amber skies she’d love but will never see. The chorus, blunt and hard-hitting, reminds us that someone does not have to be living to be alive, to be all around, to be with us. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing to me now,” Taylor sings towards the end of the song, right before you hear a sample of Finlay’s opera singing in the background, a truly eye-swelling moment. It is clear that Finlay played a pivotal role in Swift’s own ambitions, as she sings, “all your closets of backlogged dreams, and how you left them all to me.” Marjorie knew she was leaving them in good hands. If you haven’t yet, check out the moving lyric video for the song, where you can see photos and video clips of Marjorie, both throughout her career and in her time with Taylor. Best lyric: “Never be so polite you forget your power, / never wield such power you forget to be polite.”

14. closure On the most experimental track musically on the record, Taylor writes off her need for closure from a relationship of some sort, whether it be romantic or platonic or business, all of which can cause hurt of equal intensity. The subject of the song is trying to make nice with Taylor, and she is just not having it, as it is not coming from a genuine place, but rather to ensure that their life remains picture perfect, or to clear their guilty conscience, or to preserve their own ego. This is a deeply relatable sentiment; as valuable as forgiveness can be, sometimes the person who hurt you just doesn’t deserve it, and all you can do is forgive yourself for blocking their number or shredding their letters. Best lyric: “I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life / staying friends would iron it out so nice.”

15. evermore feat. Bon Iver To close out the standard edition of the album, Taylor joins forces once again with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, with whom she collaborated on the Grammy-nominated duet, “exile” for folklore. However, Swift leads most of the track this time, lamenting the difficult time she went through in 2016. The piano and Swift’s vocals are haunting, particularly when she describes this time in her life as “catching my death,” consumed by a pain that she feels will never end. If you’ve ever been depressed, you know what that feels like, and the dark places it leads you. Although she is singing about a time four years prior, it sounds so present, and it is heartbreaking to hear her in such a state. When Bon Iver comes in, the tempo of the song picks up, the piano riff becomes more erratic, like a winter storm hitting you in the face, and he voices all the anxieties of the cost of such a downfall. But through those anxieties, Taylor finds not a cure, but an anchor in love, and then the tempo slows back down. By the end of the song, Taylor has the foresight to understand that although it may not feel like it now, the pain she is experiencing is not permanent (a sentiment my therapist has been trying to instill in me for years). In her Apple Music interview with Zane Lowe, Taylor explained how the lyrics parallel the times we are in currently, and so it feels really special to have the album end with someone who knows how it feels to be imprisoned by your pain gently comfort us with the wisdom that “this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.” I hope one day soon, as we leave 2020 far behind, we can all truly believe her. Best lyric: “I was catching my breath / barefoot in the wildest winter catching my death.”

16. right where you left me (bonus track) The first bonus track on evermore, “right where you left me,” captures a moment so earth-crushing, a piece of you is trapped in it forever. In this song specifically, the narrator finds herself stuck in the same corner of a restaurant where she was told by someone she loved that they had met someone else. “Glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on,” she sings in mourning. We have all experienced those moments that we could teleport back to if we just closed our eyes; the scenery, what you wore, the smell and taste of the season, the very point in your body where it felt like your insides were collapsing. Or that one particular person, who is long-gone from your life but seeing them is like time-travelling back to that person you once were, ready to pick up where you left off. But as much as you want to stay in that moment forever, just in case it changes in your favor, the cold reality is that the world stops for no one. Best lyric: “If our love died young, I can’t bear witness / And it’s been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong / I’m right where you left me.”

17. it’s time to go (bonus track) “right where you left me” was Taylor’s cry for help to get out of restaurant, and “it’s time to go” is the answer to the call, as she sings in the first line, “when the dinner gets cold, and the chatter gets old / you ask for the tab.” This song is about gathering the strength to leave situations and relationships behind that no longer serve you. She grieves the betrayal of someone she thought to be a twin from her dreams (almost definitely referring to former friend, Karlie Kloss), acknowledges that keeping a marriage together for the sake of the kids often actually has the opposite intended effect (possibly- but not certainly- something she and her brother experienced), and recounts attempting to bargain with someone consumed by greed, only able to leave with herself (absolutely referring to the end of her fifteen-year long business relationship with Scott Borchetta, her former record-label owner). But as painful as leaving all of those situations was, Taylor has gained the wisdom to understand that walking away sometimes takes as much strength as persevering. You can’t stay at the restaurant, or at the mercy of someone else forever; you have to forge your own path, even if it’s in the opposite direction of what you envisioned for so long. And even with all her past success behind her, as folklore and evermore have proved, there is so much more ahead of her. Best lyric: “That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul / You know when it’s time to go.”

In a time where we are all trapped in our homes and in our heads, the folklore/evermore experience has been the sweetest escape. If anything, the creation of these wonderful sister records has taught me that our most powerful tool in times of distress is our own imagination. Even just the ability to close my eyes while listening to one of these tracks and feel the character’s story is a gift. The way I’ve always been able to pick up Harry Potter and escape to Hogwarts when I’ve felt alone and friendless, I can listen to folklore and evermore when I feel scared or hopeless and escape into this enchanted forest Taylor has built, where I can climb above the trees and see it all for what it is. I feel so lucky to watch Taylor’s imaginative world unravel around me. I can’t wait to see what she creates next.

DISCLAIMER – REVIEWER’S BIAS: I would literally die for this bitch.  

[winter-fox-queen]

Kisses Like Wine

The Thief x Reader

Warnings:  None

Reader is blank canvass female.  Age gap, maybe ten years?

Inspired by the new wine commercial, of course. I am not sure if the next installment will be during the next teaser or what.

Do you like legends?  Well.  Here is one for you.

Imagine a maid, seduced by a powerful man.  Imagine a stormy night…yes, a dark and stormy night, I know, I know.  But it was.  Imagine a frightened, naive young woman pushing a baby out into the world, laying on the paving of the wine cellar because that as the only place they could think to hide her. Several glorious and expensive floors above, another woman is laboring, drawing her last breath.  My father, my brother, my sister all sitting in a half circle as the power flickers out, as the staff hasten to light candles.

The maid, my mother, takes money, some silver, and leaves me.

I wonder what was going through my father’s mind, as he looked at me that first time. I wonder if his wife hadn’t just died he would have kept me at all.

But he did. And that, I thought, would be as interesting as things got.

I was wrong.  Of course. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a story worth telling.

Once a year, the family gathers into the vault. My siblings enjoy it, after all, this is their once a year visit of the treasures they will inherit.

Now, you will think, that my siblings hate me. They don’t. They are mostly indifferent, modeling after my father, warming up when he’s not around, or when they need me. So their going over the wealth I will never touch in my presence does not smack of cruelty, just carelessness.

As long as I behave myself, I will always have a roof. Always be fed. Have a stipend. My education was paid for, I have a nice, plain little car I picked for myself. So, I ignore a lot of things.  I live in a castle, after all. Really, what more could I want? I remind myself of these things more and more often, recently.

My interest picks up when he gets to the jewel cask. A crown said to be worn by King Alfred the Great sits over it, and he moved it aside reverently to open a plain, silver oval of a box.

“And here it is,” he croons. “The Star of the North.” It is beautiful. Even in the florescent light of the vault, the pale blue sapphire, large as a hen’s egg, sparkles with a galaxy of stars.  It is the only piece that moves me. I could stare at it forever, lost in the depths. Looking at the stars.

If you were to ask me, later, why I risked my life to go after it, I don’t know what I’d tell you. Was it for the jewel?  Was it to impress my family and maybe have my father actually look at me?

Or was it because of him?

**

The night that changed my life, I was standing in the corner of the third floor ballroom, humming “Masquerade” under my breath. It was an accurate song – A masked ball, people wearing dazzling costumes. I was dressed in a costume I’d seen once on the cover of a book – fake iridescent black swan feathers showed tones of blue and purple. I didn’t want to fool with actual wings, so I had hennaed butterfly wings, jeweled and sparkling, across my bare back. I thought I looked nifty, but it was not the warmest costume choice.  “You can fool any friend who ever knew you…” I whispered under my breath.

A flash of bottle green attracted my eye despite my best attempts. I was drawn to a man in a satin green jacket.  His mask was a fox’s face made out of green leaves. His eyes were dark, his hair dark, as well, with a slight curl. Our eyes would meet, over glasses, over shoulders, and I kept moving away from him, away from the danger he represented.

Away from the wanting that was curling, slowly, softly inside.  Want stirred by the way he held the delicate crystal stem of a wine glass. By the way his eyes traveled over my figure. The knowing smirk, as if he was a mind reader. I went and got a drink of my own, determined to not look at him again, and as if hearing my wishes, he disappeared.

I pretended not to look for him as I eventually settled in another corner. A hand, large, graceful despite that, holding a bunch of fanned playing cards appeared before my face. I barely kept from shrieking. “Pick a card,” a voice purred in my ear.

I didn’t want to admit he startled me, though it had probably been obvious. I turned enough to see it was him, the green fox mask. “You’ll see what I pick.”

He laughed. “Just choose with your eyes, keep it in your head.”

I looked at his hand. The ace of spades. Queen of Hearts. A mix of number cards. I picked the Jack of Clubs.

“Done.” I said, turning to look up into his eyes.

The alarms started ringing. “Forgive me,” he said, “That’s my cue.” He pulled me to him, and spun me onto the dance floor, among confused and worried guests.  I felt the strength of him, as he moved, the assuredness, the grace,  He turned me and gently pushed me into the arms of a man standing on the side of the dance floor, and in the chaos I lost track of him.

I recovered and ran towards the vault.

“It’s locked. The security are inside…” I heard my brother say. I backtracked, and ran down another hall, trying to think.

If the guards were inside, he could just waltz out the front door. So going up would be stupid.

But the lower floor was on lock down.  Probably. I didn’t really know what the thief had managed to accomplish.

A breeze across my back.  The tower room behind me – the door was partly open. I ran through it without thinking.

And there he was. The mask and jacket were gone. He had a pack on his back and he was lowering a rope out the arched window of the tower.

“Whatever it was you took, give it back.” I told him. “Give it back and I won’t tell them where you went, or what you look like.”

He was on me in a second, arm wrapped around me, my body pressed against the stone.  His free hand was around my throat, pressing gently. “Why should I?”

I am ashamed to admit, I was very aware of his body pressed hard against mine. That strength. He could hurt me, but I was not afraid. Not of him.  His hand on my throat was more of a lover’s touch than a threat, and I could see his eyes in the light from the hall. He was not angry. He was…pleased.

“I know who you are,” I whisper. “And you never kill.”

He shrugs awkwardly. “I only took a few trinkets. Your family has so much left, but it seems to me their greatest treasure they ignore completely.” He brushes his lower lip against mine, and I shiver. I can feel a slight smile before he claims my lips.

“Come find me yourself,” he whispers in my ear, and he is gone, out the window.

I slide down the wall and stare out the window, wondering at myself.  At the urge to follow him down, though he takes the rope with him, leaving only a metal spike with a loop in the wall.

Later, we find that he managed to trick the security guards into going into the vault, then, while they were in there, triggered the alarm.

We don’t know when he stole the crown or the Star of the North. We just knew they were gone. His plan was neat, meticulous, and hard to figure out.

When I undressed that night, I found a card in the corsetry of my bodice. The Jack of Clubs.  The back?  The face of the devil.  My guess had been right – I knew who visited us that night.  One of the greatest thieves of all time. No name. Some called him The Thief, some called him the devil.

I pressed the card to my lips.  Come find me.

Alright.

I will.

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Sub Tsukishima

as much as I do love pegging this does not make an appearance this one unfortunately. also two tsuki posts in a row whoops

Tsukishima x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Grunge, public sex, shower sex, thigh fucking, Fem dom, brat taming, cum play, cream pie, this is rancid 😌

Word count: 1,700 (about)

Summary: Mud volleyball leads to shower sex leads to sub tsukishima

You could hardly recognize Tsukishima he was so caked in mud. only his glasses remained clean. 

“I hate you, I’m never doing this again,” he snapped. running a dirty hand through his equally mucked up hair. 

“Oh fuck off you had fun,” you said. you were just as dirty as him. sure, maybe mud volleyball wasn’t the cleanest sport, and yeah the water was freezing but it sure was exhilarating. you caught the collar of his jersey and pulled him down kissing him, and spreading a little bit of of mud on his face. 

“you’re disgusting,” he scoffed but you could see the blush on his cheeks. 

“you love me,” you cooed and he didn’t deny it. 

“Love you or not there is no way I’m letting you get mud all over my car, we’ll have to hose you down like a dog,” he snickered, making you roll your eyes. 

“Oh and I suppose it’s fine if you muddy up the car is it? come take a shower with me jack ass,” and you tugged him to the locker room. 

Technically the showers were coed, and the two of you were alone and Tsuki had seen you naked before. But a blush still creeped up his neck and colored his cheeks when you stripped your shirt and sports bra off. you reached into one of the stalls and turned the water on stepping back to let it heat up. 

“Are you just going to stand there staring like a pervert Tsuki or are you going to take a shower? you teased stripping off your spandex shorts so you were completely naked in front of him. 

“shut up,” he snapped, too distracted by your bare body to come up with anything more biting. 

“Oh I get it you want to shower with me but you’re too embarrassed to say so, is that it?” you teased pulling back the curtain a second time and stepping into the small shower stall beckoning him in. Tsukishima didn’t bother to argue stripping off his own clothes and joining you. 

The shower wasn’t built for two people, not that you minded clinging close to your boyfriend. 

“Stay close so I can see you,” he murmured taking you in his arms. 

“you’re filthy,” he sighed his hands trailing over your arms scraping the mud and grit off of you. you smiled and kissed him again. The water cascaded over both of your bodies warming you. 

You ghosted your hands over his pecs teasing his nipples with your nails drawing a small moan from his lips.

“Careful Kei someone might hear then we’ll get in trouble,” you teased, It was true, it was likely someone else could walk in any minute and interrupt anything nasty the two of you did. 

“shut up it’s your fault for getting me all riled up,” he complained, you looked down and saw his hardening cock 

“awe baby you got hard from just a little kissing?” you asked sweetly.

“It’s you’re fault, I can’t help myself,” he growled his hands going to your hips and pulling you so you were flush against him. 

“of course I get hard when a pretty girl touches me,” he sighed against your neck. 

“like I couldn’t make you cum hands free,” you scoffed. Kei smirked 

“is that a promise baby?” while he was distracted you pushed him up against the linoleum wall catching his wrists behind his back and pinning him in place. 

“if you behave,” you threatened Tsuki smirked

“I love it when you try to dom me,” he teased, you didn’t bother responding, you knew he’d be begging for you any second, like the big brat he was. 

with one hand you grabbed his throat keeping him in place with the other you reached for the showerhead. 

it was one of the detachable ones, you took it off the handle and adjusted the setting so the water came out in one continuous stream.  and lowered the showerhead to his throbbing length making him gasp. You clamped your hand down around his throat and his knees buckled. 

“awe dose that feel good baby?” you teased teasing his cock head with the nozzle. he clenched his jaw his hips bucking involuntarily precum leaking from the head and down his shaft.

You moved your hand from his neck to his hair tugging on the short blond hair that was still dirty with mud. you pulled hard making his eyes rolls back in his head a deep guttural moan ripping from his throat sending a rush of heat to your core. 

“you’re such a fucking slut,” you laughed, tugging on his hair again.

“Still think I can’t make you cum like this?” you teased, 

“fuck (y/n)-” he moaned 

“That wasn’t an answer Kei, do you want me to keep teasing you like this until you cum or do you want me to really fuck you, baby? I need you to say it,” you demanded taking the showerhead away from his sex. his eyes went wide and he groaned at the lack of friction. 

“you didn’t make me cum,” he pointed out, breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed. 

“You didn’t ask permission,” you shot back. you shifted closer closing your thighs around his cock shifting jerking him off with the fat of your legs, and hooked the shower head back in place freeing up both hands. 

“f-fuck,” he moaned, and just like that his resolve crumbled  “Jesus (y/n) I want you to fuck me I want to cum,” he whined. He could be so polite when he wanted to be.  you pulled back submerging yourself fully in the shower’s stream and leaving Tsukishima alone pressed against the wall, a pained look on his face.

“I don’t know baby, sure you begged once but you’ve been a real brat the rest of the time, and I don’t think you’ve earned it,” you said squeezing out some of the provided soap and running it through your hair casually, after all you did need a shower you were filthy, the translucent arousal slipping down your thighs not withstanding. 

Tsukishima knew he could pounce on you and take what he wanted, you probably wouldn’t even mind if he bit his way up your neck and shoved his cock deep inside your wet cunt over and over again until he came. But it wouldn’t be as good that way. 

Hot shame bubbled up in his throat as he tried to speak, his eyes fixated on the dirt cascading off of your perfect body. He wanted you so bad but he wanted you to take him. it was embarrassing to say but some how he managed. 

“p-please?”

you smiled “theres my good boy,”

Tsuki went to your arms kissing you feverishly, getting called a good boy was like fucking cocaine. You took his dick in his hand pumping it slowly.

“Please,” he moaned again as you kissed his Adam's apple. the word was getting easier to say, and more importantly, it was making you do what he wanted you hooked one leg over his hip and slid his cock inside of you easily. he moaned at the feeling. Tsuki knew that if he weren’t queit someone would hear but he couldn’t stop the jolts of sound that left him with each thrust of your hips, your cunt always felt so good around him.

You stuffed two, clean, fingers into his mouth gagging him. Tsukishima was only too happy to suck. 

“You feel so good Tsuki, you fuck me so good,” you priased quietly your free hand running through his hair shaking loose some mud. 

“god you’re fucking filthy I can’t belive I let such a dirty boy have his way with my pussy,” you sighed kissing his neck again, you could feel his cock throb inside of you, it didn’t seem to matter if you were condemning him or praising him your voice was enough to send him closer to the edge. 

“But you’re going to be a good boy about it aren’t you? yeah you’re gonna wait for me to tell you it’s alright to cum then your going to lick my pussy clean because you love me and you’re so fucken desperate to cum you’re willing to do anything I say isn’t that right baby?” you demanded and he said a muffled yes around your fingers wich made you smile

“your cock is so hard it’s fucking throbbing Kei, you’re going to cum if I keep this up aren’t you?” another slurred yes. 

“it’s okay baby go ahead and cum I want to feel it,” 

No sooner than the words had left your mouth he bucked forward nearly knocking you off your feet and you felt his orgasm hit his semen filled you, before dripping down your thighs when he pulled out and being washed away by the still-warm spray of water. 

Tsukishima’s legs gave out and he had to catch himself against the wall as he tried to steady his breathing. you went back to washing yourself waiting for the Bratty Tsuki to return. 

“I cannot belive we fucked in a public locker room,” he said sounding disgusted. 

“would you have preferred it if i rode you in the mud pit?” you teased, you examined yourself and found you were mostly clean, you couldn’t say the same for your boyfriend however. Mud still caked his arms and thighs it was stuck in his blonde hair and there was even a bit on his ear.

“get out,” he ordered and with a giggle you complied wrapping your towel around yourself as you left the shower leaving him alone. 

“after I get out of this shower this never happened,” he said shutting the curtain, you rolled your eyes and started digging through your gym bag for the clean clothes you’d brought. Just then a thin river of semen ran down from your cunt to your knee. Guess you weren’t as clean as you thought. 

[team-gabriel]

♟brightglass?

so, uh… yeah. I might’ve gotten a little carried away. enjoy?

[also on my AO3]

♟- patching up a wound

Jack Bright was almost certain that he’s bled through the half-assed bandage job he’s done on his shoulder. He can feel the throbbing pain radiating down his arm with every exhausting step that he trudged up the stairs to his apartment.

He fumbled with his keys for a few moments before he finally managed to pull the door open, kicking his shoes haphazardly by the mat and hanging his (now somewhat bloody) lab coat on the hook beside the door… he’d wash that out in the morning; he was too tired to do anything about that tonight.

Judging by the blood on his coat, he knew that his shirt had to be soaked as well, and, looking down at the ugly, dark red stain that had spread across his once-white dress shirt, he found that his guess was correct. Jack groaned in frustration — yep, that shirt was ruined… he really liked that one, too…

Whatever.

Simon, who had been sitting at the kitchen counter, was currently pouring all of his focus into the psych reports scattered in front of him. The commotion Bright caused as he entered the apartment was enough to draw his attention, but he still hadn’t looked up from his work.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Bright muttered toward the psychiatrist before he even had a chance to speak.

“Rough day, I take i— Jack, what the hell happened to you?!”

Simon’s casual statement quickly turned into an exclamation of shock and panic the moment he glanced up to see his blood-covered boyfriend.

“Simon, I said I don’t wanna hear it,” Jack groaned in response. He was not in the mood for Simon’s fussing, and wanted nothing more than to just replace the bandages, put on a clean t-shirt, and go to bed…

“Jack—!”

“Don’t worry about it…” Bright dismissed as he tossed his keys and lanyard onto the table, undoing his tie and wincing as another sharp wave of pain hit him.

“Oh. Right. Yeah,” Glass replied in disbelief, his tone somehow managing to convey both sarcasm and utter panic. “There’s absolutely nothing to worry about here!”

“Simon. Really…” Bright groaned, both out of frustration and pain. “It’s fine…”

“Oh, sure looks it, Jack,” Glass replied, hastily gathering his papers into a pile and standing from his spot at the table.

Simon vanished into the bathroom and Jack could hear him rifling around through the cabinet for the first-aid kit… a lot of good that will do him, Jack thought bitterly.

“I’m too tired for this,” Jack muttered loudly. “Just let me go to bed—”

“Oh, so you can bleed to death?” Glass piped up, still digging around in the disorganized mess that was his cabinets.

“I’m not going to bleed to death.”

Jack heard Simon’s rummaging abruptly stop for a moment, and despite being in a completely separate room, Bright could practically feel the incredulous glare Simon was giving him right now. Simon muttered something under his breath and continued his search.

“…and so what if I do!?” Jack shouted back. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve bled out…! and sure as hell won’t be the last!”

Simon reentered the kitchen, having finally found the first-aid kit, and still refusing to give Bright’s previous comments any form of response. He grabbed the chair that he had been sitting in and loudly dragged it across the kitchen floor — Jack wincing at the harsh sound.

“You know, Si, those downstairs neighbors are probably loving you right now…” he remarked.

“Sit.”

“…You’re being absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

“Sit.”

“Simon, just give me the bandages, I can do this mysel—”

“Jack Bright, sit your arse down in this chair, or so help me god—!”

“Damn, Si, look at you — taking charge like that,” Jack teased, his voice still having that sharp edge to it, once again refusing to acknowledge any of the severity of this situation. “…Keep talkin’ to me like that, and you’re gonna make me act up—”

Bright had enough sense to cut his statement short when he was met with that frustrated exhaustion in Simon’s eyes. He dropped his inappropriate comment and shook his head.

“Si, really… the only one working themself up about this is you,” Jack hissed, but nevertheless, he finally sat down.

Simon’s expression was still pressed in a tight frown as he muttered a tired “thank you…” turning and placing the plastic kit on the table, pulling out the supplies he needed.

Bright rolled his eyes as Glass returned, clearly trying his hardest to get a good look at the wound despite Jack being in no way helpful.

“Jack, would you just hold still—?”

“I am holding still—!”

“Well quit moving your shoulder th—!”

“Ow! Simon, that fucking hurts!”

“Jack, I can’t even see what I’m trying to work with—! Would you just—? Jack, just—!”

Glass exhaled a growl of frustration. Since Bright was clearly not about to make things any less difficult, he decided it was necessary to take matters in his own hands. He immediately began fumbling with the collar of Jack’s shirt, roughly undoing the buttons.

Bright’s grumbling quickly turned to a shout, and now it was his turn to raise his voice in concern.

“Hey — careful! Jesus, Simon, careful!” Jack snapped, throwing one hand over his amulet, the other snatching Simon’s wrist and roughly yanking it away before his hand could get any closer to the pendant than it already was. “Fuck, Si, would you just wait a fucking second?! I already feel like my shoulder’s been beaten to absolute hell, I don’t need you dying on top of everything else!” he screamed.

Simon flinched backwards, clearly startled both by Jack’s outburst and the realization of how close he’d come to accidentally touching the amulet. “I- I’m—!” Glass began unsteadily. “Jack, I’m sorry…!”

Jack stayed like that for a moment while he waited for his heart to stop pounding, Simon still staring down at him with that deer-in-headlights expression.

Finally, he sighed, letting go of Simon’s wrist and watching as the psychiatrist immediately drew his arm back, guarding it against his chest and unconsciously rubbing at the spot where Jack’s grip had been the tightest. There was another moment where their eyes met, and both of them decided to soften their demeanor…

“I’m sorry,” Simon mumbled again, backing off just a bit, but still unable to stop staring at Jack’s bloodied shoulder with concern.

He really wasn’t about to let this go, was he?

Bright weighed his options. The irritation of having Glass attempt to patch up his shoulder was decidedly not even close to being greater than the utter devastation that would come with Simon inadvertently killing himself — or worse — because Jack refused cooperate and Glass once again ends up getting a little too close to his amulet…

Another sigh as Jack undid the remainder of his buttons as best as he could with his one uninjured arm, allowing Simon to easily reach his shoulder. He sat back down and twisted the amulet behind his back, slipping it beneath the back of his half-unbuttoned shirt.

“There you go,” he said, still not overly enthused with this whole ordeal, but willing to bite the bullet if it meant just getting this over with so he can go to bed. “Have at it, doc.”

Simon’s expression was much softer than it had been just minutes prior. He stepped back up to Jack, first carefully taking in the scene, and then delicately beginning to remove the old bandages.

Bright cringed a little at the way they clung to the wound, and at the growing pile of blood-soaked gauze and tape that was accumulating beside him as Glass continued to peel them away.

“Christ, Jack… this looks bad…” Simon exhaled, gently dabbing some of the excess blood away with a damp rag.

Bright only hummed in agreement. To be completely honest, even he hadn’t really seen the full extent of his injury — he saw a lot of blood and he taped himself up with gauze until he couldn’t see it anymore — problem solved!

…But now he was beginning to see the jagged gashes where claws met skin. He didn’t exactly enjoy looking at it, but he continued to stare, as it was better than having to look at the worry in Simon’s eyes.

“This... might sting a tiny bit...”

A tiny bit proved to be an understatement. Jack sucked in a sharp hiss and dug his fingers into the arm of the kitchen chair the moment the antiseptic soaked cotton touched the wound.

“Sorry...” Glass whispered, still carefully dabbing the gauze around the gashes. “So sorry... Just a little more, Jack. It’s almost done, I promise.”

“Yeah…” Jack said through gritted teeth. “Whatever you say, Si…”

Simon worked with diligence, cleaning the wound with a delicate touch, methodically bandaging as he went. He managed to get most of the superficial cuts to stop bleeding using butterfly bandages, but it was becoming obvious to Jack that the worst of it needed sutures…

It was clearly obvious to Simon as well, who apprehensively bit his lip, looking from the wound to meet Jack’s eyes.

Jack sighed and shook his head. “Go for it, Si…”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“Whatever.”

Jack didn’t watch as Simon threaded the needle, he didn’t watch as he carefully examined the gash… but he definitely took in another little hiss of pain as the first stitch was made.

“Sorry, Jack…” Simon whispered.

“To be honest,” Jack gritted out again. “That fucking antiseptic was worse.”

As Glass continued to stitch up his shoulder, Jack once again found himself unable to look away, but now for a different reason. It always sort of amazed him when Simon did stuff like this. Granted, he’s only ever really seen it once — Jack had accidentally gotten his palm with a kitchen knife when he was washing dishes — but still, it amazed him. Glass worked with such exactness that, if he hadn’t known any better, Jack might’ve believed that he did it on a daily basis. He could tell by the meticulousness of it that this was no doubt a skill Simon acquired in medical school and perfected in his years as a field agent.

But, what Bright perhaps found the most shocking was how gentle Simon always was with him. No matter how much of a fight Jack put up, Glass remained delicate when it came to actually working on him. He’d whisper apologies after every wince or hiss of pain. He’d put such a high level of precision and care into his actions — when most everyone else at the Foundation (Bright included) would deem it unnecessary in the long run.

If Jack couldn’t truly die, then why bother putting in so much effort to save him? Why waste the time, skills, and material on keeping him comfortable?

But Glass… he always did. He’d care for him when he was sick. He’d tend to minor injuries no differently than to major ones. He’d sit by Jack’s side for anything.

But that was just a part of Simon’s nature, he supposed — to comfort. It was why he advanced so easily in his field. It was why the word “soft” was so frequently hurled at him like an insult.

And that softness was clear with the precise way he finished the last of the stitches… the way he gently cleaned away the residual blood… the careful way he bandaged his shoulder…

“Simon…?” Jack asked, watching as Glass finished up with the final bandages.

“Hmm?”

“Why do you do this?”

“Why do I do what?”

“Care so damn much,” Jack replied with a snort, although the heavy sincerity of the question still lingered in the background.

“About?”

“Me.”

“Why do I care when the person I love is severely injured? Is that really what you’re asking me right now, Jack?”

“You know what I mean,” Bright replied, rolling his eyes, only deciding to elaborate on that further after several moments of Glass doing nothing but staring at him incredulously. “I can’t die — not really — so, like, why put in all the effort, y’know?”

“Except you can die, Jack,” Simon replied. “…As you so frequently do. The only difference is that you don’t stay dead—”

“But is that really that different?”

“Yes, Jack!” Glass replied, the disbelief audibly rising in his voice, as if Bright were missing some point that was glaringly obvious to him. “Some may argue that it’s worse!”

Jack only rolled his eyes, prompting Simon to elaborate further.

“You aren’t invulnerable, Jack,” he continued. “You aren’t immune to feeling pain — in fact, you have felt such an immense level of pain, on numerous occasions, that a person should only have the capability to feel once, if ever, in their lifetime… You’ve experienced your own death, Jack. Over and over… And perhaps you’ve just become numb to it — or you like to claim that you have — maybe everybody else in this damned Foundation has as well—”

“Because it still isn’t the same as actually dying, Simon—” Jack butted in before Glass could cut him off again.

“Alright,” he replied. “Maybe it isn’t. But why does that mean that you don’t deserve to be treated with the same level of compassion as anybody else?”

Jack bit down on his lip, refusing to meet Simon’s eyes… he hated when Glass had a point on topics like this.

“Alright,” Simon continued, keeping his voice gentle. “The other month, when I came home feeling sick — you stayed awake with me—”

“Simon, that isn’t the same thing!”

“But was I dying, Jack?” Simon asked without so much as missing a beat, his tone rising with pretend disbelief. “Was I so critically ill that someone needed to waste their time on me? It was just a stomach flu — nothing serious, there’s nothing anybody needs to do for that except wait it out… why waste the effort, taking care of someone who was just going to get better on their own in 24 hours? Hm?”

Bright had gone right back to avoiding Simon’s eyes, this time going as far as to avoid looking at him all together.

“Simon, it’s…”

Glass sighed, letting his expression soften once more, losing the sarcastic edge to his voice.

“It’s what, Jack?” he asked softly, attempting to finish the sentence that Bright had given up on. “It’s not the same thing?”

Jack’s mouth was pressed in a tight frown as he turned his eyes to the floor, still unwilling to admit his ‘defeat’.

And, with a gentle, sincere expression, Glass finished his (albeit, mostly one-sided) argument.

“I love you, Jack…” he said. “I love you… and I hate seeing you hurt…”

Bright finally opened his mouth to respond, only to shake his head and close it wordlessly when he couldn’t find the proper thing to say. There was nothing he could say to disprove that final statement, and he knew that. He could feel the beginnings of tears prickling at his eyes… and he knew he was going to have a tough time trying to pass it off as still being caused by the sting of that stupid antiseptic.

That shield he put up was cracking, and Jack hated putting the vulnerability that lied beneath it on display. So, instead, he only leaned forward, gently bunting his head against Simon’s chest, burying his face in the soft, warm fabric of his shirt.

“I know, Jack…” Simon whispered softly, running his fingers through the back of Bright’s hair.

Jack took in a bit of a stuttering breath, letting the tears finally slip from his eyes and pressing his face harder against Simon’s chest. He couldn’t explain it with words — he never properly could — why there was something about Simon Glass that just felt so… right…?

Jack had never been good with feelings. And right then, he was swept up in such a powerful wave of different emotions that, for a moment, he thought he may drown.

He had come to believe that kindness almost always came with some sort of strings attached… but not with Glass.

Never with Glass.

He felt loved — so genuinely loved — that, at times, it almost overwhelmed him because of how unused to it he was.

So Jack held onto that feeling, staying there a moment longer, breathing in Simon’s warmth and feeling that gentle rise and fall of his chest. Until finally, he managed to gather enough composure to speak.

And, naturally, in true Jack Bright fashion, he attempted to change the subject entirely — anything to deflect from the fact he’d just been crying.

“You’ve got the hands of a surgeon, you know that?” he remarked, looking back down to his shoulder, trying to pull back up his cool, detached facade… although his voice was still a little unsteady and his sentence ended with a bit of a wet sniffle. “…Or maybe a painter. Ever think you might’ve gone into the wrong profession?”

He knew Simon had to see right through this pathetic attempt at a diversion as well, but he went along with it anyway.

“Don’t think I could handle the pressure of being a surgeon,” Glass replied softly. “Stitching someone up is one thing… don’t quite think I have the stomach for cutting someone apart.”

“So you settled for just taking apart their minds, then?” Bright teased, exhaling in what was half a laugh and half a choked, hiccup-y sort of sound.

“What can I say,” he replied lightly, turning and cleaning up his supplies. “Much less blood.”

Jack exhaled another quiet laugh and Simon couldn’t help but smile, and somehow, just seeing that made Bright feel warm inside.

His mind pulling him back to that unexplainable way that Simon just made him feel right.

Because there was just something about Simon Glass.

Something about those warm grey eyes and gentle smile that made Jack feel so at home.

Something about that open, deliberate way he expressed his love that made Jack truly believe that he deserved this… That this wasn’t a mistake. That this was what it felt like to be loved on purpose.

And Jack, despite years and years of denying himself the right to feel this sort of feeling…

He loved Simon right back.

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