#i've been on a justified KICK lately

[scarisd3ad]

Trouble

Chapter - one (trouble on my left, trouble on my right)

Pairing(s) - stu macher x reader, billy loomis x reader

Next

Summary - ‘trouble on my left, trouble on my right I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life.’

(A/N) - I know its early June, and I promised this by late may, but got real busy.

Warnings - mentions of murder, mentions of blood, regular scream warnings, infidelity, cursing, violent language

Masterlist

Taglist

I leaned myself against my counter as I listened to Stu and Billy go on, and on about killing Casey Becker, my next-door neighbor, and Stu's ex-girlfriend.

"So, what's the plan again?" I ask.

Both boys turn their heads towards me. "We break in and kill'er duh," Stu says, rolling his eyes. He was a complete idiot. I don't even know why I like him sometimes. "We need a plan, dumbass. You're gonna get your ass locked up if we do that," I say with an eye roll. Billy stands up from his spot and walks over to me. He wraps an arm around my waist. "I'm gonna call, mess with her a bit. You're gonna be hiding in the house, and Stu will be outside. Stu will kill Steve, and you try to get her outside for Stu," he explains, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "What're you gonna do?" I ask as I wiggle out of his grip. "I already told you I'm doing the calling. " I roll my eyes, walk over to Stu, and plop myself into his lap. Stu has a grin on his face as he wraps his arms around my waist. Stu was the clingier one out of the two boys, and I didn't hate it. 

Stu presses kisses to my neck as I say, "Why do we have to do all the hard work?" Billy rolls his eyes; he's fed up with the two of us already. "I'll do the hard work next time with Sid, alright?" I nod with a smile. I turn towards Stu, press my lips to his, and wrap my arms around his neck. Stu always immediately goes all in, with tongue and everything.

Billy groans. "Can you guys not do that shit?" I roll my eyes as I pull away from Stu. "you can join in Billy" Stu says with a laugh. Billy shakes his head. "gotta date with Sid. I'll see you guys later," Billy says, pressing a kiss to my lips and smacking Stu in the back of the head. Once my front door slams shut, Stu's lips are immediately on mine. I kiss him back, but only for a few seconds before I push him away.

He looks like I had just kicked his puppy. His brows furrowed and his head cocked to the side. "So, when are we doin' this shit?" I ask, arms wrapping around his neck affectionately. "tomorrow" he replies before immediately pressing his lips back to mine.

When Billy and Stu had first proposed the idea of going on a killing spree, I was absolutely against it. Hell, I thought they were fucking crazy and really questioned why I was sneaking around with the two assholes, but when they brought up the fact that they were planning on killing both of their girlfriends, I was in. 

I have been secretly seeing Stu since the beginning of the school year. It all began with a drunken kiss, which then led to us sneaking around behind his girlfriend's back. Eventually, I found myself completely in love with him. About 2 months ago, Billy joined us. He caught us together one night at Stu's house, and since then we've formed a very unusual and insane trio.

Most would think I was absolutely insane to go to the lengths of killing the girlfriends of the two men I was sneaking around with, and well so do I. Sometimes I feel like I'm crazy for hating Tatum and Sid, but at the same time, I can justify it. I've fallen so in love with Billy and Stu, that I've just hung onto the idea that I'd have them all to myself once they were gone. By now, I crave the day I get to slaughter both of them bitches. I hate having to go behind everyone's backs. I hate having to pretend I like both of them. I hate that our relations stay in the confines of Billy, Stu, and I's houses while Sid and Tatum get them everywhere.

I pull away panting before saying, "You leaving too?" he chuckles softly, probably hearing the saltiness in my voice. "Nah rather say here with you" I giggle as he presses his lips to mine once again. 

-

Wednesday is excruciating, as always. I almost have a perfect schedule now, be friendly with Tatum and Sid, go to English class, make out with Stu in the back seat of his car during math class, go to Spanish class, make out with Stu under the bleachers in the gym, go to gym class, have lunch outside with Billy Stu, randy, Tatum, and Sid, make out with Stu, leave early with Stu and Billy during 7th period so no one sees us. I'm surprised no one has caught on to our affair, seeing that Stu always wants to make out with someone, and if it's not me (which it usually is), it's Tatum.

Tatum presses herself against the locker next to mine. I can't say I hate Tatum, cause she's a nice girl, and so is Sid. if we were in any other situation, we'd be not only friends but best friends, but I can't like her. I can't bring myself to look at her without envisioning myself killing her in the near future. "Hey," I mutter as I pull my English notebook out of my locker.

"Casey said she saw Stu and Billy at your house... what did you guys do?" I can hear a hint of jealousy in her voice as she says it. I stared at her for a few seconds as I conjured up a lie. "They were hanging out with my brother. I think they might have watched some movies or something. "It wasn't a terrible lie. Billy and Stu did hang out with my brother Austin often. it was just that this specific weekend Austin was out with his girlfriend, so I had to make sure to get to Austin before Tatum did. "Oh..." she nods before turning around and walking off.

When Tatum is out of sight, I immediately bolt toward Austin's locker. Luckily, he's there, sorting through the items inside to find the ones he needs for his first period. "What?" he asks as he turns his towards me, pushing his hair back as he does so. "If Tatum asks, can you say you were hanging out with Billy and Stu this weekend?" his brows furrow before a grin erupts onto his face. "Why?" I roll my eyes, already knowing what he was thinking. "Because I had them over this weekend, and I don't want her knowing they were hanging out with me. "Somehow his smirk grows wider, "Why? Are you still fucking her boyfriend?" I let out a little groan as I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, please Austin?"

He lets out a begrudging sigh before mumbling a quiet "Fine but you owe me" I smile, "Thanks Austin!" I say before walking away. The only reason Austin knows anything about Stu and I is because he had accidentally walked in on Stu and I a few months back. It took two entire weeks of convincing to get Austin to keep our secret. 

-

Stu, Billy, and I sneak off of campus at around 2:30, and we make it to my house at around three. A few weeks ago, I convinced my brother to stay with his girlfriend today, and my parents were out on a business trip, so we had the house to ourselves as we got ready for tonight.

We're up in my room just talking. We weren't going to go into action until at least 9:30, so we had some time to kill. Stu and I were lying on my bed, with his arm wrapped around me, while Billy sat in the swivel chair I had. Stu's head occasionally dipped down into the crevice of my neck to press kisses. "Tatum asked about you being over here yesterday, said Casey told her," I say, as Stu sucks a chunk of my skin into his mouth. He hums against my neck as Billy asks, "What'd you say?"

"Said you were hanging out with Austin," I say, leaning into Stu's body. "Made sure Austin would say the same, too." Stu nods against my skin, muttering "good" against my skin. "So, you got the shit we need to use?" I ask as I push Stu away from me so that the already developing hickey won't get any darker or bigger than it already is. I wasn't there when Billy and Stu killed Sid's mom. I was clueless as to what they were doing. They waited until well after the funeral to ask me to join them. "Yeah, got it in that duffle bag I brought in, got the knives and the costumes," he says as he leans back in the chair.

I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as I watch Billy spin around in the chair, in an unusual act of childlike behavior. Stu's left-hand travels to my hip as he leans in and presses a kiss to my lips. I roll my eyes as he goes in for another. If I had to choose one of us to say is the absolute horniest, it would be Stu. Stu wasn't only fucking me, but he was also doing Tatum at the same time. It's like all he thought about was having a tight hole for his dick. Unlike Billy, who was only fucking around with me, and not Sid because Sid hasn't felt like it since her mom died. "God, can you guys stay off of each other for one second?" Billy says, rolling his eyes.

Stu and I pull apart, and he grins. "You're just jealous," Stu says with a laugh as he tries pulling me in for another kiss. I oblige, but only press my lips against his for less than a second before pulling away and throwing my legs over the side of my bed, so they dangled off the side. I pushed myself back up to my feet before walking over to Billy, who sat in my swivel chair, making sure to strut over as sexily as I could. I straddle Billy and trail kisses up his neck, starting down towards his collarbone. Once I make it to his ear, I whisper "You coulda just asked we woulda let you join Bill" he tries his best to roll his eyes and mutter "Don't call me that" under his breath but before I know it, he's got both his hands pressed tightly against my cheeks in a bruising grip and his tongue shoved in my mouth. 

"Holy shit," Stu whispers, with a light chuckle as Billy and I pull apart. Both of us are panting, and his hands are still pressing tightly against my cheeks. Billy grins as my cheeks heat up. "A-anyway....what are we supposed to do after we....y'know, kill her?" I ask. I'm still hesitant about killing Casey. she didn't do anything to me, we were practically best friends growing up. Casey was just so that everyone in town would be weary. So that we had a better chance of getting everyone we needed at our party. Safety's better in numbers. She was the opening kill, a kill that would make everyone stop and stare. That kill could have been anyone, but Stu decided to sign Casey and her new boyfriend Steve up for it because he was still bitter about how Casey broke up with him.

"I'm goin' to Sid's. so, I can have an alibi you two can do whatever the hell you guys want." if Stu decided to leave too, I'd be the main suspect, there'd be no one to vouch for me because we needed the house empty for us to execute our plan. I swing my legs over and my body around so I'm now facing Stu. "You up to stayin' here tonight, Stu?" I ask, a faux innocent grin on my face. He matches mine with a similar yet less innocent-like grin. "Fuck yeah."

Billy reaches around tapping my thigh before whispering, "Need to go downstairs, get the bag so we can get ready, babe. " I nod as he presses a kiss to my cheek. I get up and trot back over to my bed as Billy exits my room. I sit on my bed, sliding the ring that sat on my middle finger on and off anxiously. I didn't know if I was ready, or if I wanted to take part in the murder of Casey, anyway. I had hyped myself up for Sid and Tatum's, but Casey's? I tried my best to put that one to the side. I awaited Sid's and Tatum's deaths like it was my birthday. I craved the feeling of the knife between my hands as I plunged the knife in and out of their bodies. but Caseys, I awaited it like the first day of school after Christmas break, my hand jittered for the last 3 days as I thought about it and I just wished more days would appear between the day I was on, and the day I was supposed to help kill Casey. I just wanted it to be over.

"You, okay?" Stu asks, scooting towards me. "I Dunno if I'm ready. " His eyes roll as he places his left hand on my thigh, rubbing small circles into the supple skin with his thumb. "you're fucking ready." he says, for the past month or so they've been helping me 'practice'. they showed me the right way to hold the knife and then helped me practice 'stabbing' a pillow. So logically I'd be ready, but I still can't push away the guilty feeling that sat in my chest. I shrug "I Dunno, I-I'm just scared" he laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. I furrow my eyebrows, a pout forming on my lips. His laughter dies down into just a little smirk as he leans in, pressing his lips to mine. "Don't be scared. I'll be with you the whole time," he says, pulling away. He shrugs. "and besides, you're not even killin' her. You just gotta scare her."

Billy bursts into the room, a large black duffle bag in one hand. He takes a seat back in the chair before unzipping it and pulling one large knife. The blade glistens in the light as he turns it, showing it off. My mouth is gaping open, staring at the freshly sharpened blade. All of my anxieties instantly wash away as I take the knife in my hand. "Nice, isn't it?" he smirks as my pointer finger lightly brushes over the sharp tip. suddenly I'm ready, it's like all the worry that was just filling my mind was instantly wiped away, and all I could think about was how nice the knife felt in my hands.

Taglist

@pookie-snookie @heyspl4zi @drilethetoppat @ciuguapa @heraliveken @naito55 @katie-tibo @eve-sick-blog @bitchybasmentcats @1ts-jeany @kitkatdreamsmpmcyt @slowly-becoming-like-draculaura @nitcsky @weaponxgames @vrsin @cupid3clipse @st-rgirl-forlife @confusedriftin @catastrophic-panda @carnagetrickster21 @kaiparkerwife @d0llykill @ceceher @melidodo @yaoi1206 @hellraser1999 @altair10 @loveheart-123 @pearledreader @multifandom0-0 @cursedashes @a-bunny13

[fazedlight]

Why am I obsessed with the rift?

From my first fic to the many many many many season 5 fics I've written, to the fic where the whole thing could've been averted in season 2, to my no-villain-era-for-Lena in season 3 (twice) and season 4 fics......... I seem to have developed a bit of a rift pattern.

A reasonable person might ask: Why?

There's something that itches in my mind: I think either woman would've been fully justified in walking away from their friendship, and yet they ultimately didn't.

It starts with Kara, who is ultimately a fractured person. She deeply values the truth, and yet she's forced to live with various lies, unable to be her full self.

Her identity is in the in-betweens. She feels adrift between two cultures, she knows her alien state while reaping the privilege of passing, she hides core aspects of herself on a daily basis. I'm sucked into the rift, in part, because of who she is and how she struggles to put it all together. I think her frustration will resonate with anyone who's stuck in the in-betweens.

Kara's struggle for identity plants the seed for the rift. The bigotry of society meant she had to have a secret identity in the first place, and keeping the secret from Lena was certainly reasonable for a time.

We can debate endlessly about when Kara should've told Lena - I think it's really hard to find the line between "too soon" and "too late" - but it ultimately doesn't matter. Because it's Kara's kneejerk reaction to Lena's kryptonite that forms the first sort of betrayal, not the secret itself.

Kara screws up - she says something she regrets, she doubles down when threatened and scared. These are common mistakes... but we have super-level circumstances, so we get super-level consequences. And the engine she has inside her that fears loss (which she's suffered to a level that is unimaginable to anyone on Earth) kicks in. She can't lose another person she loves.

But who is she holding onto?

In the series, and in flashbacks, we watch Lena's progression from idealistic techie to cynical recluse. While she's experienced loss and isolation, that's not the cause of her shift.

It's in experiencing her idol and protector become the madman who kidnaps her. It's in realizing her best friend has betrayed her by taking the one thing that could've saved her brother. It's in moving to a new city to start over, and meeting a mentor who uses her to start a global invasion. It's in her partner in scientific discovery being a pawn to her brother, colluding behind her back.

And then there's the final downfall. Her new best friend - her trusted confidant, her hero, the one who made her feel not so alone anymore - is the super who denigrated her, maligned her, spied on her. Lena had two important people in her life at that point, and she sacrificed one for the other... only to find out the other was a lie.

With betrayal after betrayal - Lex and Andrea and Rhea and Eve and Kara - she loses faith that anyone is above their worst impulses.

So she falls to her own.

How can good people do bad things?

There's a saying I heard around MIT sometimes: there are no technical solutions to social problems. It's easy to forget - when you're surrounded by people seeking to improve the world via science and engineering - that you can't solve humanity via technology or logic or rules. Lena forgot this.

Myriad marks a shift in the rift. Kara lied to Lena, antagonized her, spied on her - but her wrongs were directed towards Lena. Lena's initial response - the petty manipulation and the plan to out Kara - were directed back at Kara.

But then the rift fundamentally shifts.

At this point, Lena's wrongs are no longer just about Kara - she's trying to brainwash the world. She mindcontrolled Malefic and enslaved Eve. This went beyond the fallout between two friends.

It's clear that her intentions are still good here. She's not a megalomaniac like her brother, she's not forming an us-vs-them mentality like her stepmother. She's an anti-villain at this point in the story - desperate to find what's true, in a world full of lies.

It's a hard line to walk, acknowledging Lena's trauma and well-intentioned motivations while realizing she's still ultimately culpable for her own actions. But it's important to try to balance, because Lena is still redeemable.

But getting back to the relationship itself - Kara played a large role in pushing Lena to the edge of her trauma, which was entirely motivated by Kara's own trauma.

You hide things so you don’t lose people. I run from people who hide things. I guess we were bound to explode.

Lena says this in my first fic mentioned earlier, and it summarizes the rift as succinctly as I can put it. Their traumas were incompatible, and their relationship should've failed.

And yet.

Delving into how the CW screwed up the rift could be its own essay. They gave us a complex and layered situation, only to gut it with It's a Super Life (beloved/beloathed), the narrative retroactively justifying Kara instead of examining her foils, glossing over Lena instead of delving into her ethical blindspots. The rift was cancelled.

What does that leave us with?

Well, I guess it left me seeking the rift, over and over again. I'm certainly not the first author to do a rift fic, and I doubt I'll be the last. There seem to be a few different approaches:

Some authors delve into the nuance, having the two characters hash out what they've been through in a way that feels balanced and real. In particular, I love the @searidings fic with the birds i'll share this lonely view. I don't think I have the skill to pull off that type of story.

Some writers lean heavily on one "side" or the other, often with lots of grovelling. This never resonates with me, because at some point in a relationship there has to be the realization that it's "us vs. the problem", rather than "you vs. me". In my mind, these fics miss the layers of trauma that led to the rift.

Some authors make the rift not matter. If you put the characters through hell and back, the anger will lose its thrust, and they'll be left wanting to heal.

I fall into the last category.

There's a moment from permanence by @itllsetyoufree that I especially love, where - in the aftermath of season 6 - Eliza asks Lena why she forgave Kara. Lena can't answer.

We like to think we're logically driven. But in my experience, forgiveness - and a host of other emotions - never work that way. Sometimes "sorry" cuts it, sometimes it doesn't. A lot of times, forgiveness comes from the realization that someone genuinely wants to connect, and that the fallout was relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

Of course, when your fallout includes extra levels of gaslighting and a bit of global brainwashing, making it relatively unimportant requires something drastic.

That's where I end up landing. Putting my blorbos in Situations helps them see the other in a new light - see the other's genuineness, the other's fears, the other's love. Often times, this comes with the simultaneous threat to someone's life (though that's not necessary, especially if it's earlier in Lena's breaking point cutoff).

I do assume - and sometimes imply - that they're also having those discussions, working things out in the background. Because of what I put them through in my fics, I don't think those end up being explosive discussions. It's about figuring out the practical aftermath of what the heart already knows at that point.

Whether I deliver on that is ultimately up to the reader, but that's my approach. Because at the end of the day, love is about cherishing and understanding the person in front of you - flaws and and traumas in all. These stories are driven by loving both characters, and trying to see them the way they see each other.

The rift is a story about love and connection - how those things can't happen without embracing someone else's trauma and without understanding one's own imperfection. Because that's what's at the root of all of us.

And that's why I write the rift.

[laurenairay]

you've been sent to save me - N. MacKinnon

Summary: what’s meant to be will always find a way.

Rachel Summers can’t stand Nathan MacKinnon. But when a mutual friend’s wedding pulls them together, will anything change?

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: some angst, some bad language

A/N: Here is my fic for @fallinallincurls birthday bingo! I chose wedding season/dates, forced proximity, meddling best friend, and invisible string theory. This was a lot of fun to write (and I can't believe I've never written a full fic for Nate before!), so I hope you enjoy it Bre! Sorry it's a bit late!

Title from always been you, by Shawn Mendes.

~

Invisible string theory suggests that everyone has someone in their lives who is attached to them by an invisible string that transcends time, distance, and geography. It’s fate.

~

June 2023

“There’s just one more thing.”

“Oh?” Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nate’s going to be a groomsman.”

Rachel immediately groaned, tilting her head backwards. A little dramatic perhaps but for Nathan MacKinnon? It was justified. She’d been over the moon when her childhood friend had asked her to be a bridesmaid for her wedding next summer, but now knowing that Nathan was going to be in the wedding party too?

“It’s bad enough that I can’t avoid that grumpy smirky fucker whenever he’s back for the summer, but now I can’t even avoid him for the happiest day of your life?”

“It really will be the happiest day of my life, won’t it?” she sighed happily.

“Angie, focus,” Rachel snapped, unable to stop herself from huffing out a laugh. She wanted to stay mad at her friend, but it was hard with the dreamy look on her face.

Angela just giggled. “Look, Brad has been friends with him for years, you know that. And I can’t change that – I’m sure it’ll be fine?”

“Angie!” Rachel whined.

She just laughed harder. “Rach, I will make sure he won’t act like an ass. I promise!”

“I’ll believe that the day I see it.”

~

June 2024

It was finally time for Angela’s wedding. After a full year of planning – helping choose the bridesmaid dresses, the hair and make-up trials, the hen do itself, spending her weekends making table decorations – the fateful weekend had finally arrived. Rachel had been given the option to travel up a couple of days early ahead of the wedding ceremony on the Saturday, so she’d eagerly booked the time off work, and was travelling to Inverary Resort bright and early on the Thursday morning. Rachel was ready to settle in and relax with the rest of the bridal party, all friends over the years from Cole Harbour, to celebrate one of her oldest friends marrying the love of her life.

What could possibly go wrong?

After 3 and a half hours of driving, Rachel was ready to kick her shoes off and pick up a cocktail, and as she spotted Angela running happily out of the main building towards her as she parked her car, she found a smile spreading across her face. This weekend was going to be amazing, she just knew it.

“You made it! How was the journey? We got in a few hours ago and it was fine for us – was it still okay for you?”

Rachel just grinned at her friend’s happy rambling, throwing her shoulder-length dark waves up into a basic ponytail before grabbing her bags out of her backseat. Thankfully the transportation of the bridesmaid dresses – a gorgeous olive green that suited Rachel’s dark hair and tanned skin perfectly -  were taken care of by Angela’s mom so she hadn’t had to worry about creasing that.

The two of them caught up as Angela walked her through the main lobby of the resort, picking up Rachel’s room key as well as a glass of complimentary prosecco. Rachel tried not to get too wide-eyed over the beauty of the venue, but it was hard not to gawp. The views alone were amazing, and she wasn’t even on the water’s edge yet. From what she understood, for the accommodation on site there was a main lodge with the majority of rooms, as well as whole bunch of individual cottages. Rachel had chosen to stay in the main lodge, as a single guest, so at least she didn’t have to walk far with her luggage.

“Alright, here you are. There are a few other guests already here so get settled and then come downstairs to meet us for drinks. It’s just a chilled day today, touring the grounds and relaxing really, with a dinner tonight at the Lakeside restaurant,” Angela explained, “I’ll see you soon?”

“You got it,” Rachel grinned.

Angela’s enthusiasm was infectious at the very least, and Rachel could feel herself buzzing as she unpacked her bags. She couldn’t wait explore the grounds of the resort – and she was more than ready for the spa morning tomorrow in the Glasgow house cottage that Rachel had set up for the bride’s party – but first, drinks.

After freshening up with a spritz of perfume and a swipe of lipgloss, Rachel left her room, phone and room key in hand.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

No fucking way.

Rachel turned her head to see the last person she wanted to see standing two doors down from her with a suitcase at his side. He must’ve just arrived. It was just her luck that his room was so close to hers – Angela had better not had a hand in that – as always during the summers when he was home, it was like she couldn’t escape him. Nathan MacKinnon was everywhere.

“Look what the cat coughed up,” Rachel shot back, fake smile at full capacity.

Nate just snorted, rolling his eyes. “Aww don’t front, Rach, you know you missed me.”

“Like a thorn in my foot,” she said dryly, “And don’t call me Rach.”

Rach was for friends only. And Nate was no friend.

Nate held his hands up in surrender with a snicker, finally unlocking his room door.

“If you find yourself lonely in the middle of the night, you know where to find me,” Nate smirked.

“Eurgh, in your dreams,” she grimaced.

“Yes, frequently.”

No. Just no. The audacity.

Rachel gagged dramatically, hamming up the noises, and to her surprise Nate burst out into laughter, leaning against the doorframe as his face scrunched. That had to be the first time he’d laughed so genuinely with just her. She hated the way it made her stomach fill with butterflies.

“Oh man, I needed that,” Nate grinned, still chuckling, “I’ll see you down at the lounge bar?”

More bewildered than anything else, Rachel just nodded. “Yeah, see you.”

What the hell was that?

~

Angela’s plans for the spa morning on the Friday couldn’t have been more perfect, if for nothing else than to clear Rachel’s mind. Over the space of 4 hours, Rachel (plus the other three bridesmaids, Angela, Angela’s mom, and Angela’s soon-to-be mother-in-law) got a manicure, pedicure, and a facial, on top of full use of the sauna and pool. It was exactly what Rachel needed to wind down from her work week (and the weirdness with Nate yesterday) and relax ahead of the big wedding day tomorrow. By the happy glow on the bridal party’s faces, everyone else agreed.

After a light lunch, the full wedding party met up in the main lodge, ready for a rehearsal. Angela and Brad had wanted a full walkthrough of the running order, timings, and placements of the day, just so they were prepared, which Rachel wasn’t going to complain about in the slightest. It could never hurt to be ready.

Not even Nate’s irritating grin as he stood next to her, continuously nudging her with his shoulder, could ruin her peace.

“So, in terms of who will be walking who down the aisle, we’ve paired the groomsmen and bridesmaids up already.”

As the four pairings were called out, Rachel’s stomach sank. She was walking down the aisle with Nathan MacKinnon. Of course she was. So much for peace. This had Angela written all over it, the meddling wench.

“Rach, I-”

“Don’t even say a word to me right now, you giant potato,” Rachel hissed under her voice.

Nate choked out a laugh, leaving Rachel to make her face blank and calmly walk towards the other bridesmaids. Angela’s expression was all but begging her not to cause a scene. Like she would cause something as inelegant as a scene. No, she would wait until there was a moment to pull Angela aside because what the hell was she thinking?

“What the fuck, Angie?”

“Hi Angie, you look incredible Angie, thanks for planning everything ahead of your wedding tomorrow Angie.”

Rachel pursed her lips, hands on hips, but Angie just shrugged, an amused smile on her face. The two of them were in a little alcove in the main lodge, completely hidden from view even though everyone had gone their separate ways, so Rachel didn’t bother to hide her displeasure in her body language.

“I don’t know what you want me to say? The two of you are paired together to walk for all of two minutes. You can handle it,” Angie mused.

“Why him? You could’ve paired me with literally anyone else,” Rachel groaned.

“True, I could’ve, but it’s done now. Besides the two of you could use a little time to be friendly. Or, you know. Friendly.”

Bleurgh. Absolutely not.

“You are the worst and I don’t know why we’re friends,” Rachel grimaced.

“At this point, Stockholm Syndrome?” Angela beamed.

Rachel couldn’t help but to crack a grin, Angela just giggling at her victory.

“It’s two minutes, you will survive it. The two of you will look good together at least...”

What?

They were complete opposites – Nate was blonde, blue eyed, beefy and pale. Rachel was dark-haired, dark-eyed, slim and tan.

What?

“…and Nate’s obsessed with you anyway.”

“Ew, no, he’s not obsessed with me,” Rachel said, sneering slightly.

“No? With everyone else, he’s awkward and dorky. But with you, he’s laser focused. I wonder why,” she said, finishing with an innocent smile.

“Oh gee lucky me! I don’t know, because he’s an ass?” Rachel scowled.

“No, because Nathan MacKinnon’s flirting never matured past pulling pigtails on the school playground,” Angela shot back.

What?

“He’s not flirting,” Rachel scoffed.

Angela paused for a second, gazing over Rachel as if she was trying to figure something out, before she laughed incredulously. “Oh my God, Brad’s going to lose his mind when I tell him. You really can’t see it, can you?”

“See what?”

Rachel didn’t know what her face was doing to reflect her defensive words, but Angela held her hands up in surrender.

“Just take a step back and look at everything. He wants your attention solely on him and this is the only way that’s been successful in catching it. For twenty years – and you know it. Watch him with other people. Watch him with other women. He’s flirting with you, Rach. Just think about it.”

~

Watch him with other people.

Watch him with other women.

He’s flirting with you, Rach.

Just think about it.

Angela’s words swirled around Rachel’s head all through the rest of the day, and it was all she could do to follow her friend’s advice. She watched Nate, all through dinner and the drinks afterwards. She watched how Nate was beaming and friendly with Brad and their Cole Harbour buddies. She watched how Nate was bland and polite with women that flirted with him at the bar. She watched how Nate watched her when men approached her, always catching him looking at her, eyes intense and hot. Why did Angela have to put those seeds of doubt in her head? Why did she have to do it now, the night before the wedding, when there was so much else to think about?

Why did she have to be right?

Nate was so different with her than anyone else, even people they’d known all their lives, and it was completely turning everything she’d ever thought about him on its head. This wasn’t fair. She didn’t need this, not right now. It wasn’t fair.

The wedding day came with no further clarification for her thoughts, her head in full turmoil, and it took all of Rachel’s concentration and willpower to focus on being the best bridesmaid she could be. Angela wasn’t even aware of the way she’d swept the rug out from underneath Rachel’s feet, which was probably for the best if she was being honest, so Rachel just let herself get swept up in the excitement of all the bridal party getting ready together, hair and make-up and dresses and happy tears, all of them looking gorgeous by the end of it – Angela most of all.

As the time came for them to walk down the aisle, Rachel’s nerves were in tatters.

“Rachel Summers, damn. You clean up well,” Nate murmured.

She ignored the shiver his words sent down her spine.

“Bite me MacKinnon.”

He immediately raised an eyebrow, eyes assessing her.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, frowning.

Of course he noticed. Of course.

“Peachy,” she said through gritted teeth, plastering a smile on her face.

“I can tell you’re lying.”

“Gold star for you.”

It felt like an automatic defence to slip into their usual banter, Nate just huffed out a laugh, smirking slightly, all of it serving only to make her feel unsteady. How the hell had she missed this for so long? How easy their connection was? How his bitching was actually…flirting?

“Alright princess, let’s go celebrate our friends,” he mused.

As Nate stuck out his elbow, Rachel inhaled shakily but didn’t hesitate to slip her hand into the crook of his arm. Even through the jacket, she could feel the warmth of his body, the thickness of his bicep, and all she could do was try to keep a straight face, to not let anyone see how the simple touch was making her head spin. What the fuck was happening to her?

They walked in silence, in perfection symmetry, Nate sending her a small smile as they separated at the altar, and it wasn’t until the wedding march music started, signalling Angela’s imminent arrival, that she realised she was lost in thought. She needed to pull herself together, and quickly.

Rachel locked her eyes on Angela and Brad all through the ceremony, letting their happy smiles and obvious love for each other fill her mind, a smile of her own easy on her face. This was Angela’s day, that’s all she had to focus on. That’s all she needed. Still, in the drinks reception and through the sit-down meal, Rachel found her eyes drawn back to Nate, the two of them seated at the same table (of course, albeit not next to each other so her gaze was able to float over him without looking too obvious.

Just as the night before, the way he smiled at other guests versus how he smiled at her was completely different, and she was just glad for the prosecco nearby. She was going to need it to get through this night, she knew that much. As the speeches went on and the food was served, she felt herself getting more and more overwhelmed, feeling more and more stupid for how much Angela’s revelations were affecting her. Why was she making such a big deal out of this? It’s not like it was going to change anything, right? She’d get through the wedding reception and go back home tomorrow morning and avoid Nate until he left for Colorado next month. It was totally doable. It was a great plan. It was-

“And now, please join us on the dance floor for the bride and groom’s first dance!”

Fuck.

Rachel moved on autopilot, standing to the side of the semi-circle of guests as Angela and Brad walked into the middle of the floor. Just as the music started, she felt a familiar body moving to stand next to her, and she wasn’t able to hold back the shaky breath escaping her mouth, the softest whimper only audible to him.

“What’s wrong?”

You're the light, you're the night, You're the colour of my blood, You're the cure, you're the pain, You're the only thing I wanna touch, Never knew that it could mean so much, so much.

“Hey, Rachel, are you okay?”

You're the fear, I don't care, 'Cause I've never been so high, Follow me to the dark, Let me take you past our satellites, You can see the world you brought to life, to life.

“Rach. Rachel. Seriously, you’re worrying me.”

So love me like you do, la-la-love me like you do Love me like you do, la-la-love me like you do Touch me like you do, ta-ta-touch me like you do What are you waiting for?

She was worrying him? Rachel glanced up at Nate as Ellie Goulding’s voice continued to fill the barn, and the soft look in his eyes just about broke her. It was all she could do to inhale sharply and shake her head.

“No, I’m not okay. I need to get some air. I need to get out of here.”

Nate’s soft expression immediately turned serious, eyes more intense than she’d ever seen, sending a bolt of electricity through her blood. “Can you make it through the dance? It’s fine if you can’t, I can get you out.”

What?

“I…I can wait,” she managed to choke out.

Nate looked at her for a couple of seconds before nodding, arm moving to gently rest behind her as if some kind of fail safe, and it was all Rachel could do to focus on keeping her breathing steady, eyes stinging with tears as she locked her gaze on her friends as they twirled around the floor. But in reality she was barely taking anything in, other than the heat of his body protecting her. Because that’s what it was – he was protecting her. She knew she was a hair away from having a full-on breakdown, and the last thing she wanted to do was draw attention away from the happy couple. The last thing. It was only that thought that kept her together until the music ended, and the moment everyone burst into applause, Nate was whisking her outside, somehow neither of them being stopped by other guests for polite chitchat.

Small mercies.

When they were in a secluded grassy nook, Nate turned around to face her.

“Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

How could he even ask that?

“Am I okay? Of course I’m not okay!”

He held his hands up in soft surrender. “What’s wrong?” Nathe frowned.

“You! You’re what’s wrong!”

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Okay I know for a fact that I haven’t done anything to earn that.”

Rachel just groaned, clenching her fists as she closed her eyes briefly. He hadn’t done anything to earn it? He’d done everything to earn it!

In the 20 years they’d known each other, all she’d ever ‘known’ of him is the way he always poked at her, always the first to draw attention to her doing something stupid, untying the bows in her hair, jostling her in the school hallways. As they’d grown up he hadn’t really changed, even when he spent more time away for hockey. He still made fun of her choices in boyfriends, in clothes, in music, even being as dumb as to take the last beer at summer parties or the burger she’d been waiting for or laughing at her not being able to walk in a straight line when she was drunk.

But never anything cruel. Just stupid attention grabbing things that absolutely got her focusing only on him and no-one else, just like Angela said. Stupid irritating Nathan MacKinnon, and all of his stupid ideas, and stupid inability to actually talk like a human being.

It wasn’t until Nate started laughing that she realised she’d been ranting out loud, blurting out all of her angry thoughts to him, and it was all she could do to let out a frustrated bitten-off scream of frustration as he smirked that annoying smirk.

“You’re right, I don’t want your attention on anyone else. I never have, Rach, and I never will. If I’d known you hadn’t actually realised that, maybe I would’ve used my words. But where’s the fun in that?”

Oh that absolute ass.

Rachel let out another quiet shriek of frustration, grabbing the lapels of his jacket, Nate still laughing even as she pulled him down and pressed her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

Invisible string theory suggests that everyone has someone in their lives who is attached to them by an invisible string that transcends time, distance, and geography. It’s fate. And for Rachel Summers and Nathan MacKinnon, they were destined.

[sunbeamedskies]

I've seen a lot of troubling antisemitism in the Our Flag Means Death fandom lately regarding Taika Waititi. Please hear me out.

A lot of people want everyone to comment about the Israel/Palestine war. It's understandable. What Palestinian civilians are going through in Gaza is a nightmare that no one deserves. They are overwhelmingly paying the price for Hamas' actions- a group they have no control over and are also harmed by. Thousands have been killed.

After October 7th, Taika signed a letter asking for the Israeli hostages to be released. It did not endorse any specific actions taken by the Israeli government- it was simply in support of the hostages.

But you know what he was immediately accused of?

Supporting genocide. Even though what he signed was about Israeli civilians- including the elderly, disabled, and children- who were being held captive by Hamas.

On October 7th, Jews died in a single day in numbers that hadn't been since the Holocaust. Israel contains half the world's entire Jewish population. The majority of its population are descendants of Jews from middle eastern and north African countries who were forcibly kicked out in violent pogroms and had nowhere else to go. Many are descendants of Holocaust survivors as well.

I think most non-Jews would be astounded at how much the majority of the worldwide Jewish community is still mourning and reeling from October 7th. It triggered a lot of intergenerational trauma in many of us, yet I hear barely any non-Jews talk about it.

And yet you immediately accused Taika, a Jewish man, of supporting genocide just because he didn't support hostages being taken and random civilians being murdered. Do you really think he trusts people not to twist his words if he attempts to talk about Palestine too, when you turned a moment of legitimate pain for members of one of the persecuted groups he's apart of into accusing him of being a genocide-supporting monster?

We Jews not only have to deal with the memory of October 7th, but also with people conflating any support for the hostages with support for the Israeli government. When we say that criticism of Israel can at times get antisemitic, this is the kind of thing we're talking about.

Many of us are simultaneously mourning for Palestine and horrified that a right-wing fascist government that has little care for Palestinian lives has taken over Israel. Innocent lives taken shouldn't justify the killing of other innocent lives, and we are watching it happen, feeling powerless.

And it gets worse, because targeting Taika specifically because he's a person of multiple marginalized identities, when you don't attack white members of the crew nearly as much, is ironically racist.

Unintentional antisemitism and unintentional racism is still antisemitism and racism.

Take a deep breath and please reflect on how you have no idea what it's like to be Jewish right now, and how some of your own antisemitic criticism about his signature has likely contributed to his silence about Palestine. If no matter what he says his words and actions are twisted by so many of his "fans", he might think there's nothing he can say that will do any good.

[nerdraging4point0]

The Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter Five // PolyAU

Tropes and Tags: MF, MFM, MFMM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only MDNI, PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Active taglist: @ladyveronikawrites @tearfallpixie @beaker1636 @circle-with-me @synthetic-wasp-570 @itsjustemily @thesazzb @vinyardmauro @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @letmeadoreyoux @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @mysticdoodlez @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @somebodyels3 @sacredthefran @th0ughts-pr4yers @bloody-delusion-expert

The week with Noah had flown by in a blur of pier dates, shopping sprees, late night movies, and even later nights between the sheets. It felt like less than seven days. He'd asked if I could make it to the rock festival kicking off the fall tour next week. I'd nearly forgotten about it. I told him I wasn't sure about my work schedule, which wasn't a total lie.

Back at the office grind, the magical week with Noah seemed like a distant memory. I'd completely forgotten to check if I could get the time off for the festival. I was just clocking out for lunch when my phone buzzed with a new text. It was from Chris. He'd sent a screenshot of a ticket QR code for the festival. Underneath was a simple message that sent my anxiety spiraling:

See you there.

Oh god, this could be a disaster. I feel my heart start to race as I realize Noah and Chris will both be at the festival. How can I face them together? Noah will be crushed if he finds out Chris was the one I slept with right before we started dating. Am I even dating him? He never asked, just seemed implied. He'll think I'm just some groupie, trying to hook up with every metal singer I can.

My hands are shaking and my stomach is in knots.

I texted him back in a panic, scrambling to come up with an excuse to get out of going to the festival. I told him I wasn't sure I could afford the ticket now, what with everything else going on. It was a lame excuse, I know, but I was desperate.

"You're VIP, don't argue with me. I'll see you there," he wrote back firmly. He wasn't having any of my hedging. I could tell he really wanted me to be there, but I just couldn't do it.

The festival is tomorrow. How am I supposed to come clean before then? Is it even worth going at this point? I should just tell them now rather than drop this bomb when I see them there. My mind is spinning, trying to justify delaying this conversation.

I found myself wandering aimlessly down the street to the nearby park, escaping from my office for a few minutes. Sitting on the cool metal bench, I pulled up their numbers and started a group text. It's easier to explain things to both of them at once rather than dragging it out one-on-one. If I tried to type this all out twice, I know I wouldn't be able to do it.

"Boys," I began, my hands shaking, "I'm sorry I haven't been fully honest with you two. But to be fair, neither of you clearly defined what we were to each other. I don't know what it means that I've been with you both—are we just friends with benefits? Was I dating one of you? Both of you? I'm so confused. Before I see you at the festival tomorrow and this all blows up, we need to get this out in the open."

My heart pounds as I hit send on the nonsensical text. The minutes of my lunch break tick by, yet my phone remains silent. I stare at the screen, willing a response to appear. Nothing.

Now I'm back at my desk, panic swirling in my gut. What was I thinking, sending something so random? The silence is deafening.

I can barely focus, rereading our thread over and over. My pulse races and my throat tightens. What if I scared them away for good this time? Or made them think I'm unhinged?

Tapping away at my phone as we taxi down the runway, I feel a knot in my stomach when her name and an unknown number pops up on the screen. I don't recognize the number, but the area code says Los Angeles. Reading the cryptic words over and over, I realize I have no clue what to say. Glancing at Rick dozing peacefully in the seat beside me, I envy his relaxed flying mentality. Airplanes make me uneasy, though it's not really a fear thing. I just don't like the lack of control when we're thousands of feet in the air. Rick calls it my need for control.

The second we landed in Denver, my stomach twisted. My mind raced as we made our way through the terminal. Should I try to see her while we're here? Could I somehow explain everything face-to-face? That might be better than a text or call. Oh man, what would I even say? "Hey, remember that passionate night we shared? Well, I'm still crazy about you..." Yeah, no way. I'm in way over my head here.

My fingers fly across the keyboard, responding before my brain has time to catch up. "Whoa, wait, let's rewind. First things first - who else are we talking about here?"

It's barely past four, and I'm sure she's already off work - she always leaves early on Thursdays. I watch the three dots bouncing at the bottom of my screen, eyes glued, wondering how complicated this story she's typing could possibly be.

Her text pings through, and it takes me a solid minute to parse it all.

"Okay, Cliff Notes version: I met you both at your concerts. Noah - Chris and I hooked up after his show and have been flirty since. Chris - I visited Noah in LA and we obviously got physical, if you know what I mean."

I read her words again, slowly, trying to fit the pieces together in my head. I've never been great at puzzling things out on my own - I do better thinking out loud.

"Noah...concert...Los Angeles," I murmur, voice echoing my thoughts.

"What about Bad Omens?" Vin interjects, tuning into my words.

"Huh?" I reply, confused.

"Noah, LA, concert - Bad Omens, right?" As he says it, the lightbulb clicks on. Noah Sebastian. Noah Sebastian!

My fingers are flying across the keyboard again. “Noah, like Bad Omens, Noah Sebastian. That Noah?” 

The unknown number is responding. 

“Yeah, and who are you?” another three dots and he’s texting again. 

“Chris Cerulli.” I type out my name as if it matters. I never use my last name, but i’ve met Noah before, we sat next to each other in several interviews on shiprocked. 

“Motionless? Oh shit.” 

I'm at a loss for words. Bad Omens is set to play at the festival the day after tomorrow, so there's no question Noah's already here in Denver or he's about to fly in. I'm trying to compartmentalize the whirlwind in my mind, desperate to make some sense of it all. I've hooked up with girls without attachments or commitments before - I'm sure Noah's done the same. To be honest, I hadn't considered anything too serious between us. I was enjoying the casual vibe we had going on. But now, knowing she might be with someone else...could I really do that? Could Noah? I don't know.

I type away to the chat, taking a breath and holding it as I see my words plastered out to the void. “But you’re still coming to the festival, right?”

I slump down in this too-small chair at LAX, ball cap pulled low and sunglasses hiding my eyes. I'm trying to disappear - don't want anyone recognizing me. I'm also trying to hide the fact that I'm royally pissed off. Can't put my finger on who I'm mad at though. Her, for hooking up with him?  Myself, for just assuming we were exclusive without ever saying it outright? Both seem likely. I know I can't hold her past against her, but damn, running into her ex on set tomorrow is gonna sting like hell. This waiting around, with nowhere to put all this frustrated energy - it's killing me. I need to hit the gym or something, get this poison out of my system. 

They announce our flight is boarding, I rise from my seat and keep my eyes averted, anxiously spinning my phone between my hands before briefly presenting the digital boarding pass on the screen to the attendant. She offers me a polite smile, but I'm too preoccupied to return the gesture. When we locate our assigned seats, I take the window spot, absentmindedly watching the ground crew below load the luggage onto the rotating conveyor belt leading to the plane's cargo hold. I spot my battered old suitcase passing by, along with the band's instruments and the rest of our haphazardly packed carry-ons. We could have easily driven to our destination, but Matt insisted that flying would be faster.

As I sit here on this plane, my mind races with thoughts of her. How can I possibly end things when every fiber of my being screams to stay? We aren’'t exclusive, I could walk away without a glance back. But she's burrowed deep under my skin, and try as I might, I can't shake her. Never before have I wavered when it came to matters of the heart. Cross me and you're gone. Disappoint me and I won't think twice. I trust my gut and never look back. But she's different. With her, I'm plagued by indecision and self-doubt. I'm a Scorpio to the core - intense, all or nothing. Once I've crossed that bridge, I burn it down in flames. But with her, I find myself lingering on the edges, unable to take that final step. She's awakened something in me I don't recognize. A vulnerability I've never known. A connection I'm not ready to sever.

My phone is in airplane mode but I can't help staring at the texts on the screen, as if somehow they will change my mind or provide the answers I'm desperately seeking. I know it's fruitless, just words on a muted screen, but I read them over and over, having already committed every word to memory. With a sigh, I finally close out and sit back, trying in vain to relax in the cramped airline seat before I inevitably reopen our conversation.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Manning," the pilot's voice stirs the sleepy passengers as we touch down in Denver. "On behalf of all our staff and United Airlines, we welcome you to Denver, Colorado." The cabin erupts in a shuffle of activity as passengers hastily gather their belongings, eager to deplane. I hesitantly switch off airplane mode and wait as my phone explodes with a barrage of emails and notifications before the message I've been anxiously anticipating finally comes through. My heart pounds as I open it, knowing those few words will determine my mood and mindset when I step off this plane into the next phase of my journey, for better or worse.

Motionless' text message lands in my inbox and I hesitate before opening it, wary that its contents might ignite an argument or stir unwelcome pity - both options I'd rather avoid. His text is brief and to the point: "Can you meet me at the Embassy tonight?" I glance across the aisle at Matt and Folio, already busily packing their bags, eager to exit the plane and head straight for our rooms at the Mariott.

I know I should wait until I'm settled at the hotel before responding, take time to think it over and discuss meeting up with Matt first. But instead, on impulse, I type back a quick "yes" before I can overthink or talk myself out of it.

Motionless and I have a complicated history of passion for our music and some unspoken rivalry between our fans, i’m not really sure where that rumor got started. While part of me wants to avoid potential conflict, another part is drawn like a moth to flame, curious to see what might transpire when we come together again. I click send on the text, sealing my fate. Now all that's left is to wait and wonder what the night will bring.

Stepping out of the shower, I'm barely dry before my phone pings. Noah's been radio silent all day while Chris has come out of left field and downright. Their thoughts have been impossible to read. My screen lights up with a text - they've agreed to meet at the Embassy downtown where Chris is staying.

I get dressed with a heavy heart, bracing myself for the inevitable end. This is it, I just know it. I'm not ready to say goodbye, but ripping off the bandaid is better than prolonging the pain. It's like being a kid dragged to the dentist for a tooth extraction before the promised ice cream cone after. You want the sweet reward, just not the agony that comes before it. Tonight it will all be over, and although my heart is not prepared, my head knows it's time to face the music.

I drive in silence, my nerves making the quiet even more deafening. Parking with the valet, I step inside the lavish hotel lobby on shaky legs. The elevators require a keycard for the upper floors, so I awkwardly text that I've arrived. Neither comes down to get me, instead sending a hotel employee to escort me up. The ride is excruciating - me avoiding eye contact while the man stands too close. I knock on their door, praying no one else is in the hall to witness my humiliation.

My heart pounds as Chris answers the door, his blonde hair cascading past his ears, dressed casually in a gray hoodie and adidas pants. I catch a glimpse of Noah sitting on the couch, elbows on knees, hands clasped together, staring at me intently. My stomach lurches and I want to bolt - I can't go through with this.

Chris gently grasps my arm just above the elbow, guiding me into the hotel room. He leads me to the end of the couch, sitting me down a few spaces from Noah. I can't bring myself to look at either of them, consumed by shame, the tension suffocating.

Chris moves the coffee table out a bit before perching on it directly in front of me, just an arm's length from Noah. We sit in excruciating silence before I finally blurt out, "There isn't much else to say."

“I think there is a lot to say,” Chris said “I mean i’ve been bouncing around with it a lot, i’m on the fence, but I am cool to keep things casual between us.” I blinked at Chris, trying to hide my disappointment as he rambled on with that wishy-washy response. His leg bounced nervously and he kept fidgeting with his hands, like he couldn't get comfortable saying it out loud. I knew he wasn't totally sold on the whole "casual" thing between us, but I wasn't about to beg him for more of a commitment.

My eyes slid over to Noah, who was intently focused on his own fingers as he twisted them around each other. "And you?" I asked hesitantly, bracing myself for a similar non-committal answer.

"Casual. Casual works," he mumbled, still not looking up. I wanted to scream in frustration. Chris could at least pretend to be enthusiastic about keeping things casual, but Noah sounded about as interested in me as a lump of clay. This whole conversation was not going how I had hoped at all. I shifted awkwardly, already planning my escape from this uncomfortable situation.

My blood boils as the words spew from my mouth. "Could someone please offer me something other than half-assed phrases they think I wanna hear?" Chris's mouth gapes open and closed like a fish out of water, unable to form a response. Noah slaps his knees and stands abruptly from the couch.

"We're both going on tour, that's two maybe three months we'll be busy traveling. Let's just text, keep in touch as friends. If we want a hookup we'll call," he says matter-of-factly.

I see red. "Do I get the same grace? If you want to fuck me, a phone call is all it takes? What about me, do I just have to call? I won't have this one-sided bullshit." My heart hammers in my chest as I stare them down, daring them to argue. The tension in the room is palpable and I'm ready to explode. 

My eyes darted between Chris and Noah as the tension in the room became palpable. Chris's calm demeanor never wavered as he promised, "Whatever you want, I'm there. Or I'll fly to you. The minute I know it won't work, I'll tell you - I'll be completely transparent."

I couldn't resist embracing him in gratitude, whispering a heartfelt "thank you" in his ear. As I stepped back, I noticed Noah staring at the floor, hands buried in his hoodie pockets. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet mine, jaw twitching, dark eyes peering at me through long lashes.

"And you?" I asked gently.

I hold my breath as he moves toward me, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. In an instant his hands are at my waist, yanking me against his hard body as his mouth claims mine in a searing kiss that steals my ability to think. I cling to him, my fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with everything I have. I want this man, all of him, and I desperately hope this isn't the end for us.

[klonnieshippersclub]

Love Awaits

Happy New Year! This is my post for Day 3. Yes, I know it's a bit late and I'm very sorry for that. It's also not set in 1910 but in Marcel's youth. We have a bit of a "found family" coming together in this AU. This is a little longer than usual to make up for the delay.

Randall was her responsibility. It was only a few years ago he was kicked out of their home. Randall was a Bennett and the Bennetts valued family but Randall was a boy and he didn't quite fit. Bonnie took on the responsibility of caring for him and abandoned the only home she knew. He was only a small child, but their bastard father saw Randall as useless. It was early in the year when they had lost their mother from magical overload in defeating a pack of rogue wolves that were terrorizing a nearby town.  Grief turned their father cruel. Bonnie and Randall left their small town Louisiana for the city. She was essentially a single mother at just fifteen with a five year old to take care of. It was hard but they made it work.

Years passed and they were happy. All they had was each other but that was enough. Randall even referred to Bonnie as his mother. At the age of 10, Randall found a slightly older boy unconscious by a pond. With his magic, he was able to send a message to his older sister. Luckily, she was not too far away and could provide medical aid to the unnamed boy with the knowledge she had from working as a nurse. Upon waking, the boy introduced himself as Marcel. Despite Marcel's insistence that he could walk home on the other side of the city, Bonnie and Randall brought him to their small home.

Hours passed and the boys lost time playing games (nothing too strenuous in consideration for Marcel's condition). Bonnie was making dinner when a belligerent knocking started at their door. When seeing the vampire snarling at her, Bonnie immediately sent him an aneurysm with her powers. She only stopped at Marcel crying out that this was his father. A vampire daddy was unheard of, but Bonnie believed the boy. With Marcel explaining the situation to his father (he was jumped by a rival to his father), the tension in the room disappeared. Bonnie made the sudden decision to invite the vampire inside if he provided his name. Klaus Mikaelson. From this point on, the families were close and the boys were basically inseparable.

It was a summer morning months later when Marcel dragged his father to the Bennett home. Klaus entered ready to greet Bonnie and Randall ran by with only one shoe to play outside with Marcel. Klaus called out to him, “Randall, get back here. You can't run off without your other shoe.”

The boy ran back inside the house to retrieve the shoe with Marcel following him. “I've been looking for it everywhere,” Randall said. Thanks, Pa.”

Bonnie appeared from the kitchen hearing their exchange with her hands on her hips. She voiced her confusion towards Randall. “Pa? He's not your father.”

“But Marcel said-”

“Shhhh,” interrupted Marcel while glaring at the younger boy.

Klaus raised a brow at his son and asked, “Marcellus, what did you tell him?”

“I only said it would be nice if we were a family.”

Randall continued, “And he said that mothers and fathers belong together.”

“Quiet!”

Bonnie could sense one of their childish arguments brewing. The arguments were never over anything serious but they tended to work out their problems physically and she didn't want them wrestling in the house. The last time they did so, they broke a vase of flowers. “Boys, we aren't together,” the Bennett witch remarked.

Marcel rolled his eyes at Bonnie's denial. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Then why is Pa so nice to you when he's mean to all the other ladies in covens?” Randall wondered aloud.

“He's not your Pa, Randall,” corrected his older sister/maternal figure.

Klaus and Bonnie were close but it wasn’t a relationship. “I respect Bonnie more than the arrogant witches of the city,” the Original justified.

Marcel joined in the questioning, “if you aren't together, why do you two always spend time together?”

Bonnie was surprised by the sudden interrogation and felt a bit defensive. The boys were together like glue. It shouldn't be so shocking that their guardians knew each other well. “We don't spend that much time together alone. You both are always with us.”

Randall was tired of their ridiculous excuses when he knew the truth. “Why did I see Klaus laying in bed with you?” he accused. “You were kissing!”

“Randall, what have I told you about spying?”

Instead of listening to the lecture he knew was coming, Randall took off with both shoes on his feet at lightning speed. He did not want to deal with his sister's wrath at him for violating her privacy. It didn't seem like a big deal to him anyway. He left immediately when he saw their lips touch. Marcel laughed as he went to catch Randall.

Klaus couldn’t help but to observe Bonnie and admire her beauty, even in her anger. “They think we’re in love,” Klaus said with a laugh.

Bonnie sighed, “it sounds silly and imaginative.” As much as her body desired his touch, they couldn't ever be romantically involved.

“We couldn’t ever be in love.” Feelings would complicate things. It would be a mistake for them to create a family together. Mortality would always separate them. As witches, they could never find happiness as vampires. Marcel could choose to turn when he got older, but Klaus could not expect that of Bonnie and Randall. “That’s a boundary that shouldn’t be crossed.”

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Friendly Sex - Chapter 6 - The Darkroom

"Ok Google, play Smells Like Sex by Sizzy Rocket."

The response the latest update has been phenomenal and I'm so grateful to you all, here's a smutty little something, something to say thanks. Throws Fred Benson under the plot bus. Chapter 7 should be up by tomorrow evening (10/04 9pm GMT), the updates might then be a bit more spread out as I'm back to work.

Chapter warnings: MDI (18+ only), oral sex (m receiving), rough oral sex, throat fucking, female masturbation, explicit language, smoking, mentions of drug taking, mentions of upskirting, slightly mean!Eddie?, Eddie calls reader a whore but she's into it, overuse of pet names (sweetheart, etc, etc) as ever at this point.

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

You made it to Robin's practice with seconds to spare, not that it mattered, mentally you were checked out.

You had kissed Eddie, kissed him like you would kiss a - boyfriend, the word jarring in your skull. It was intimate and terrifying. You tell yourself it’s because you’ve been starved of affection for so long, you’re bound to be a little drawn to Eddie, the person who is giving you that affection; but the thoughts wouldn’t rationalize.

You didn’t call him that evening, like you said you would, justifying there was nothing new to say to each other and that he would find a re-cap of Robin’s band practice boring. You would speak to him tomorrow…

Tuesday… 

You didn’t purposely duck into Ms Thompson’s classroom to avoid Eddie who was walking straight towards you in the corridor, you just remembered a query you had about your most recent paper.

And at lunchtime the weather was so nice it felt wasteful to sit in a packed cafeteria.

Wednesday…

You honestly didn’t see Eddie wave at you across the parking lot, too busy in conversation with Robin, and come to think of it, you weren't even sure it was Eddie. 

You were in the shower when your phone rang that night, and by the time you had dried your hair it was too late to call back.

Thursday…

You had to skip the class you shared, ‘dental check up’.

You had work in the evening, no time for plans.

Today…

You’re walking between 3rd and 4th period when a strong hand grips your arm, hauling you into the photography club’s dark room, you find yourself with your back to the door, Eddie staring down at you with an unreadable expression.

“What the hell Eddie, I have to get to class!” You hiss, rubbing at your forearm.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He says calmly.

“I’ve not been avoiding you.” You say cagily, crossing your arms, refusing to look him in the eyes.

“Bullshit.” He snorts, pointing at you. “You got spooked in the woods, why?” 

“I had to get to Robin’s practice, just like I've got to get to class now.” You move to open the door, but Eddie braces his arms on either side of you, effectively caging you.

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” He repeats, but his voice has an edge this time.

You bite your lip, eyes locked on the floor tiles feeling oddly tearful, heart hammering painfully against your breastbone with the stress of the situation.

“Hey, look at me.” His tone is gentler than a moment ago, you risk a glance at his face, he looks sad. “Sweetheart, you know the rules, if you aren’t having fun we can just call it a day.” 

“But I am having fun!” You say, kicking your heel back into the door frame, frustrated with yourself.

“So what’s the issue?” He asks confused, his palm coming up to rest against your cheek. “Did I do something wrong? Shit, did I hurt you?” His eyes swimming with concern.

“No, you didn’t do anything. I just -” You struggle to find the words, feeling amped up, unable to think properly in such close proximity to him. “ARGH! I’m not used to this.” You huff out in exasperation, gesturing weakly between the two of you, turning away from his touch.

“Not used to what exactly? Fucking around? Enjoying yourself? Having someone take care of you?” He quizzes.

“All of the above I guess-” You admit, biting nervously at the skin around your thumb, sighing heavily as he pulls your hand away from your mouth. “- I kissed you Eddie, when I had no reason to.”

Your words hang in the air for a second, then Eddie laughs, and honestly you want to punch him in the face. 

“That’s what this whole thing is about?” He chuckles, as you stare open-mouthed like a fish out of water, an angry fish out of water. “Sweetheart, we are two horny teenagers who have great sexual chemistry. There are gonna be times that we don’t have a reason, you’re just going to have to accept that we're gonna kiss and it’s gonna feel really, really good.” His voice drops a little lower, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

  You could feel yourself relenting, deep down you knew it wasn’t just a really good kiss, you’d had plenty of those with him already, but you quashed the little nagging voice in favour of sucking on Eddie’s bottom lip before biting it in a minor retaliation for laughing at you.

He was on you then, kissing you so fervently your head smacks into the door, but you couldn’t care less. Your hands in his hair tugging harshly, neither of you willing to part even to take a breath. You feel his hands at your hips, squeezing desperately, pulling you away from the door and lifting you up onto one of the countertops.

"Fuck, I've been losing my mind all week, need you princess." He moans, slotting in between your legs like a puzzle piece, his words light a fire in your belly, your hands busy unzipping his pants as he reaches under your shirt to unclasp your bra. Then the door opens flooding the room with bright light, Principal Higgins and Fred Benson staring in confusion.

"What on-." 

The four of you freeze until Eddie clears his throat, a masked attempt at zipping his fly.

"Uh - and that is how you develop a photo, Miss Y/L/N, any questions?" Eddie asks you in an affected tone of authority, you can only shake your head as he helps you down from the counter, hand in hand edging towards the exit. "No? Wonderful, well then we best be off."

“No so fast Mr Munson -" Principal Higgins says, stepping in front of the doorway. "-if I'm not mistaken you’re supposed to be in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class right now. And you young lady-” You feel yourself shrink a little, as he rounds on you, Eddie squeezing your hand slightly. "-where are you supposed to be?”

“Mr Mundy’s class, Sir.” You mumble mortified beyond belief.

“So would you care to explain to me why you are here instead?” He asks, taunting you before the inevitable.

“It’s all Fred’s fault Principal Higgins, he took a bad photo of this poor girl, she was just devastated!" Eddie says, pointing accusingly at a startled Fred. "And seeing her so upset, well it broke my heart Sir. I had to be a good Samaritan and destroy all the copies.” He implores, hamming it up.

You don’t know whether to laugh or simply curl up in a ball and die.

“Detention, both of you.” Principal Higgins snaps. “And Mr Munson, if I find you anywhere you shouldn’t be again, I will have you permanently expelled before you can achieve your diploma. Is that understood?”

You’re shaking in your proverbial boots, but Eddie simply grins, offering a two finger salute from his forehead; definitely going to curl up and die. 

Principal Higgins had the foresight to put you in separate classrooms for your detention, which allowed you an entire hour to panic about Fred Benson. Not only was he an incessant gossip, but he also worked on 'The Weekly Streak' school newspaper alongside Nancy, if he told Nancy what he saw, she could tell Steve and then... let chaos reign.

Eddie was leaning against the lockers waiting for you when you emerged from Mrs Bridger's classroom at 5pm.

"Hey there little jailbird." He smiles, bumping your shoulder affectionately.

"Hey." You mumble back unable to keep the miserable expression of your face.

"Why so sulky?" He asks, falling in step with you as you both head out to the parking lot.

"Fucking Fred Benson, he’s a liability." You say, biting once more at the skin around your thumb, you wouldn’t have a hand left by the end of this year with the way you were going.

"Don't worry about dear Freddie, I've taken care of it." He soothes with a grin.

"You kill him?” You ask hopefully, reaching Eddie’s van leaning against the side, he laughs standing next to you, lighting up a cigarette.

“No I didn’t kill him, just gave him a little unfriendly advice.” You reach out for the cigarette with wiggling fingers, taking it happily and gesturing for him to continue, he rolls his eyes and lights another for himself. “You see, being Hawkins High’s best drug dealer gets me a lot of information, and it turns out our budding photographer Fred has been taking some pretty inappropriate photos.”

“Such as?” You ask warily.

“You ever worn a skirt when you’re sitting on the bleachers?” He asks, you nod on an inhale feeling perplexed. “Yeah, maybe don’t do that around Fred.”

“Oh my god, that’s disgusting.” You say, choking slightly on the smoke.

“Well I don't know baby -” Eddie says in a slow teasing voice, pushing off the van to stand in front of you, warm hands resting on your hips, bringing your pelvis towards his own. “- I can’t say I blame him, the things I'd do to get an upskirt photo of you.” 

This time you roll your eyes, but can’t ignore the heat coursing through your veins at his touch.

“You’re such a pervert Munson.” You mutter.

“Guilty as charged.” He grins, lifting your hand with the cigarette to his mouth, taking a long drag whilst maintaining eye contact; it makes your knees go weak. “You keep looking at me like that princess, you'll find out just how perverted I am.” He warns breathing out the smoke.

“Maybe I want to find out.” You say with a coquettish smile, pressing your hips forward to brush over his crotch, placing a lingering kiss on the pulse point in his neck.

Eddie snatches the cigarette out of your hand, stubbing it quickly under his sneaker with his own, yanking the passenger door open.

“In. Now.” He commands, eyes black with lust.

“Why?” You ask innocently, but your heart is thumping violently, blood rushing straight to your cunt.

“Because sweetheart, we’re going for a drive and then I'm going to fuck your mouth.” He says darkly.

Eddie had driven you close to Skull Rock. The ride had been intense, neither of you talking, he hadn't even bothered to put the radio on; four days of pent up sexual frustration bubbling just below the surface, threatening to boil over at any minute.

Eddie took your hand as he pulled you through the woods, the grip almost painful in his haste to get you alone, you're about to ask where exactly he's heading when he stops dead, causing you to bump into his back.

"Ok. Here's good." He says breathlessly, barely giving you a moment to register your surroundings before he's backing you up against a tree trunk, lips attacking you with the same ferocity as in the darkroom.

We have got to stop fucking around outside, you think to yourself, wincing as the tree bark scrapes against your back.

"You still want me to fuck your bratty little mouth princess?" He asks, biting none too gently at your earlobe.

"Please." You say weakly.

He beams at you, kissing you quickly again before stepping backwards.

“Get on your knees for me baby.” He says, the air of authority back in his voice.

You sink immediately like some invisible force is pushing you down, kneeling on the leaf strewn ground, looking up at Eddie; he slips his thumb into your mouth, a shiver rippling through him as you suck on it.

“So fucking pretty.” He breathes out, awe-struck, thumb leaving your mouth with a string of saliva.

You reach up, hands trembling slightly as you unbuckle his belt, trying to focus on the task at hand but Eddie is making it difficult with the way he’s looking at you; like you’re the most precious thing in the world but also like he wants to eat you alive.

You pull his pants and boxers down enough to unleash his length, taking him in your hand you find he’s already impossibly hard, making your mouth water. Pumping him steadily, kitten licking teasingly at the red and swollen tip, before placing soft kisses all the way down to his balls and back again.

“Open your mouth princess.” He instructs roughly.

You lick your lips before tucking them over your teeth, tongue stroking the underside of his cock as you take the first half of him without issue, moving slowly back and forth his cock throbbing in your mouth  

“Fuck. Take me in sweetheart, all the way.” He growls, hand moving to gather your hair up into his fist, his hips jumping forward allowing his cock to slip all the way to the back of your throat, a small gag and shudder running through you.

“That’s it, good girl.” He growls encouragingly.

He holds you there for a moment by your makeshift ponytail, and god help you, you can feel your own wetness pooling in your panties; a low heaviness making your inner walls clench. You dip your fingers below the waistband of your jeans, to rub slowly at your bud. 

“Want me to fuck your throat?” He asks again, and you whine around his length, trying to nod. “Ok, breathe through your nose baby, just breathe.” 

Eddie begins to slide in and out, using the hold on your hair to keep your head tilted up, his lust-blown eyes focused on your face. You’re drooling, each thrust of hips making his cock kiss the back of your throat, your fingers moving quickly over your clit moaning around him.

“Oh fuck, do that again, moan for me again sweetheart.” He pleads, you moan again as instructed, his grip on your hair tightening almost to the point of pain, making your eyes water.

He thrusts quicker and harder, thoroughly fucking your mouth, your nose meeting with the coarse hairs at the base of his cock.

“Fuck yes, keep breathing princess, you’re doing so well for me.” He pants. “Look at you taking my cock like a fucking pro.” 

You whimper, a fresh rush of wetness coating your fingers, swirling it around your swollen clit so close to cumming, rising up slightly higher on your knees to give your hand more space to work. Eddie notices your movements, his breath hitching, cock jumping in your mouth.

“Jesus you getting off to this sweetheart? He laughs wildly, eyes wide in adoration. “You like me using your mouth like a fucking whore?” You try to nod again, gagging, choking on your own desperate moans.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum baby. Is that what you want princess, want me to cum down your throat?” His thrusts are getting sloppy, cock filling your stretched mouth at a brutal depth. “You wanna swallow my cum sweetheart?” He groans.

“Mhmm.” You moan heavily in response, feeling your own orgasm break, hips rocking as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Fuck, fuck, take it, swallow it all.” He begs, thick ropes of cum coating your tongue, pooling at the back of your throat. 

"Oh my god." He says, his thumb tracing across your swollen lips once more as you swallow. 

  He drops to his knees in front of you so suddenly that you think he's fainted, until he grabs the nap of your neck and pulls you in, kissing you so passionately it's borderline violent. 

"You alright?" He pants, both of you sucking down air as you break away.

"Yeah." You whisper croakily.

"It wasn't too much? I didn't hurt you?" He asks caressing the sides of your throat with gentle hands, eyes searching yours.

"No, it was good. I'm good." You smile, feeling immensely proud of yourself.

"More like fucking outstanding sweetheart." He breathes out, kissing along your jaw. "Should give you a trophy."

You flush in a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment at his praise.

"Somehow I don't think my dad would be too happy about having it on the mantle." You say, and you both burst out laughing, Eddie's hands still holding you tenderly about the neck.

"I'm sorry for avoiding you." You mumble, ducking your head to place a small kiss on his cheek.

"Water under the bridge sweetheart." He grins. "Come on, let's get you home." Holding out a helping hand to you as he stands.

Eddie shuts off the van two blocks from your house, you had enjoyed smoking and singing along to KISS on the way back from Skull Rock, the awkwardness and tension seemingly resolved, allowing you to remember why you had liked spending time with him to begin with, even before all this.

"So-” He says slowly, hands shifting across the steering wheel nervously. “my uncle is working a double shift tomorrow night, did you - uh - maybe wanna come over and hang out?"

"Hang out?" You repeat, your tone full of insinuation given what had just happened between you.

"Mind out of the gutter sweetheart, I am not that kind of guy." He says, acting scandalized, you raise an eyebrow in disbelief. "Ok, so I am that kind of guy, but I genuinely mean to hang out. We can order a pizza, have a couple of beers, smoke some weed, and watch a movie. Get back on track, I'll even get us some snacks." He coaxes.

The little alarm bell was ringing shrilly in your head again telling you it was a bad idea, the whole thing was too familiar, that there was no way you'd be able to just hang out with Eddie.

"What kind of snacks?" You ask with a small smile, effectively chucking the alarm out the window.

"Whatever you want princess." He grins broadly.

"Red Vines, none of that Twizzler shit."

"Done."

Taglist: @avalon-wolf @mystars123 @lolalanaie @eddiemunsonsgf2 @eddieslildarling @bakugouswh0r3

[checkoutmybookshelf]

I am...a Professor

I've been on a bit of a faerie kick lately, and Emily Wilde is one of my favorite human protagonists for fae books. She is objectively bad at people, but that's not unusual for academics in general. As a recovering academic, the fact that this book is about how bananas field work can go just tickled me. If you squint, there are echoes of Evy Carnahan from The Mummy in this book, and between that and the wintery vibes, this book was just a delight to read. Let's talk Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries.

Emily Wilde is a career academic whose career has been stalled by the fact that she is...straight-up bad at peopleing. Her saving grace is the solidity of her scholarship, which is why she rocks up to a rented cottage in Hrafnsvik with no grad students and no sense of how to take care of herself while in in the field. Our girl cannot split wood and doesn't so much as know how to bank a fire to stop herself from freezing to death overnight. She also accidentally manages to offend every single one of her hosts and the village headwoman, so she is in very real danger of freezing or starving to death by like chapter three.

And then Wendell Bambleby shows up on her doorstep with a pair of grad students and charm to spare.

Y'all...without giving too much away in spoiler territory, can I just say that I adore how Emily and Wendell are essentially two complimentary halves? Emily is all hardcore scholarship, the scientific method, and goal-focused to the exclusion of other people. Wendell is all flash, showmanship, people skills, and innate knowledge. They would be THE academic power couple at Cambridge...except that right from the get-go, Emily is not shy about telling us the Wendell is kind of a dumpster fire of an academic. He objectively exploits his grad students (although they do get co-authorship on papers and he doesn't sleep with them, so he's already better than most of the horror stories I was aware of in academia), he blatantly falsifies his research to basically no consequences, and he's objectively less interested in the academics than in the clout and money that comes with being a world-renowned academic.

The problem is that faeries--their chosen academic subject--aren't known for hanging around Cambridge and popping into office hours for in-depth interviews. So Emily and Wendell are both well and truly out of their comfort zones doing research in a tiny, wintery village. And for all Emily is terrible at people, she is stunningly good at faeries. Brownies, small folk, and even a changeling don't give her pause, and at no point is Emily out of her depth in terms of knowledge--even if actual magic tends to trump KNOWING that you've been magicked.

While Emily, Wendell, and the other characters are what you read this book for, the faerie lore, setting, and sheer winter vibes are phenomenal. I also loved the journal format of this book more than I thought I would. First-person journal style novels (I could maaaaaaaaaaaaaybe justify calling this an epistolary novel, but that might be stretching the genre a little, since the perspective is pretty firmly limited to Emily, with only I think two interludes from Wendell) tend to either feel like there's a lot of distance between reader and character, since the story is literally mediated through multiple meta layers of textuality, or that there isn't enough distance between character and readers. Emily being bad at people means that the book leans toward more distance, but as you get to know her, that distance closes a little, and the understated, scientific tone honestly makes some of the more objectively emotional events hit weirdly harder than they might have otherwise. I think the writing style works brilliantly with Emily as a character, and honestly the whole thing reminds me a little of Olivia Atwater's Regency Fairy Tales in tone and mood.

I am loathe to offer any plot spoilers here, because frankly this book was excellent and I strongly recommend it. It's a very, very slow burn romance with fantastic lore and Emily is a compelling character on her own merits long before she realizes what book she's in. I am absolutely psyched for Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands, and you will likely (eventually) get a review of that one from me as well. In the mean time, remember to be polite to you fae, bring gifts, and keep an eye on your mind just in case something decides to enchant you.

[ultravioletqueen]

Hace mucho tiempo que escucho canciones del musical de heathers y mi favorita de todas es "i say no" ya que es cuando verónica reconoce que no hay nada que hacer con jd,reconoce que el no va a cambiar y que no vale la pena estar con alguien que la usa como excusa para hacer cosas malas,simplemente me encantan estas escenas en las que los personajes confrontan a sus parejas abusivas y reconocen que merecen algo mejor.

Ahora últimamente he vuelto a consumir contenido de she-ra y las princesas del poder y me doy cuenta de que ODIO EL CATRADORA Y TODO LO QUE TENGA QUE VER CON CATRA.

¿En que se relaciona esto con la canción de heathers i say no? Simple,esta canción es el ejemplo perfecto de como pudieron manejar la "relación" de catra y adora al final,catra es irredimible y adora merecía decirle sus verdades en la cara,solo dejaré la letra algo modificada para este escenario ideal que tengo de adora dejando a catra en el polvo por todo lo que le ha hecho pasar,no planeo traducir la letra al español porque sino sonaría muy raro.

Para esto me inspire en los post de @spop-romanticizes-abuse y @anti-catradora-collection

I have been listening to songs from the Heathers musical for a long time and my favorite of all is "I Say No" since it is when Veronica recognizes that there is nothing to do with JD, she recognizes that he is not going to change and that he is not worth being around with someone who uses her as an excuse to do bad things, I just love these scenes where the characters confront their abusive partners and recognize that they deserve better.

Now lately I've been consuming She-Ra and the Princesses of Power content again and I realize that I HATE CATRAdora AND EVERYTHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH CATRA.

How does this relate to Heathers' song I Say No? Simple, this song is the perfect example of how they were able to handle Catra and Adora's "relationship" in the end, Catra is irredeemable and Adora deserved to tell her truths to her face, I will only leave the lyrics somewhat modified for this ideal scenario that I have for Adora Leaving Catra in the dust for everything she's put her through, I don't plan to translate the lyrics into Spanish because otherwise it would sound very strange.

I was inspired by the posts of @spop-romanticizes-abuse and @anti-catradora-collection

(Adora)

"You are a drug

You are a poison pill

I’ve got to kick this habit now

Or else I never will

I hated the rush

When you would hold me close

And you will not be satisfied

Until I overdose

This is it

Hit the brake

I am finally awake

Let me be

Let me go

You need help

I can’t provide

I am not qualified

This troubled teen is getting clean

I say no"

(Catra)

"Adora, who else is gonna be-"

(Adora)

"No, no, no, no!

Don’t say a word

You speak and I cave in

You’ll twist the truth again

And drill deep down beneath my skin

You said you’d change

And I believed in you

But you’re still using me to justify the harm you do

This is it

Hit the brake

Call it all my mistake

Long as you let me go

You need help

I can’t provide

I’m not your friend

You’re not mine

It’s not too late

I’m getting straight

I say no!

Blame your childhood, blame shadow weaber

Blame the life you never had

But hurting people? That’s your choice, nobody to blame

But I believe that love will win

And hate will earn you nothing in the end

This is the end!"

(Catra,pulling out her claws)

"But I love you!"

(Adora)

"You-

This is it!

I won’t cry

Starting now, I will try

To pay back

All the karma you owe!

Start again

Somewhere new

Far from monsters like you

So goodbye

'Cause now I'm

Saying no!

Just in time!

I say no!

Somehow I’m saying no!

Just say no!

I say no!

No!"

[idsb]

boi oh boi do I got some problems for anons to unpack with me tonight

When my current partner and I first got together (formally) in the late summer / early fall of 2020, he had JUST started part-time living at our friends house back in New England. He moved in, from New York, with her, because she had just ended a 10 year relationship and was mega-alone and mega-depressed. The beginning of this relationship was spent with him writing music with her as she coped with this breakup, etc. We were both sort of an emotional crutch for her while she had her (well deserved ffs) hoe phase, had her first boyfriend after the fact, they broke up, she spent some time alone and Worked On Herself, and then got into another relationship, which turned out to be a LTR.

I think I have posted on here (or maybe I haven't) about how hard I struggled with the fact that, after we moved to Montana and came back and the pandemic was declared "over", I moved back to NYC. He stayed in New England, and stayed there for another 2 years. I told him over and over and over and over again how driving back and forth to a place I was so burned by and had been longing to leave for my whole life (this friend lived, mind you, 10 minutes down the highway from my hometown), feeling so impermanent in NYC, the place I was trying to make my new home; never there enough time to establish anything real with anyone between tours and splitting time between NY and a place I resented, and it was killing me. Absolutely destroying me in every way. He had a lot of reasons which he thinks are justified but I don't agree with, and could nitpick how BS they are extra in hindsight (but won't here and am trying not to mentally do it irl): wanting to buy a house and liking that he lived somewhere for free + wanting to hang on to that as long as he could to save money for the house (v short summary, he was her employee for music stuff so she let him live there for free), he wanted a yard and a secluded home where he could make music loudly at any time of day in a way the city couldn't provide, etc. I begged him to move anywhere. I told him I'd leave NY, etc. We planned to move to Arizona, to Utah, back to Montana, but it kept getting pushed back to someday, someday, someday. This has long been litigated between us and forgiven, and he's been made to understand why it hurt me, and I can tell he's sorry about how it made me feel etc. so that's all fine.

Anyway, what finally DID make him move in with me was that this friend's LTR boyfriend wanted to move in, so he was kicked out. We, again, also, have long litigated the fact that this hurt me and made me feel like a consolation prize.

Now, though, this very same couple has just gotten engaged. And, okay, I know every couple moves at a different pace, obviously. That's a fact of life. But I've seen SO many couples, who got together LONG after we did, get engaged in the past year. That's the.... "normal" pace. I spent 5 years of my life in a different dead-end relationship already; and on this blog we've been over the numerous transgressions that made this current relationship sputter and stall out a few times like an almost-dead car engine. To be fair, me going to Australia for a year didn't help the "timeline" aspect, either. But I always justified the dead-end first LTR by saying, well, we got together when I was 17. Thank GOD we didn't get married! But how am I now here again, in a relationship that will, technically and as far as I'm concerned, be 5 years old in a few months, not one iota further than I was in the dead-end relationship from when I was 17? It doesn't feel right and it doesn't feel fair and even though the math is mathing and the things that happened in the past hurt and needed time to smooth them over, I find myself just so ANGRY that I've never been able to find and fall into something easy, like everyone else I know. I'm happy to have the prize I fought so hard for; I wanted it; I fought for it. But I look around at all the relationships that didn't start in complete disaster like mine did; girls who dated men with intense commitment issues and saw them for a waste of time, looking for the ones that were already ready and found them and slipped into something easy and simple and loving, and are already married off with that person. Why did I hurt myself so bad? Why did I fight so hard? Just to wind up triggered by waiting due to past events of this relationship and of the previous one; feeling unwanted as a result of lack of forward momentum, only waiting again now because of the WAY the waiting the first time fractured us and needed to be smoothed over? I don't know if I'm articulating it properly, but it fucking stings. And I don't say this to blame him because it's not his fault; not anymore, because he's more than atoned for all the Bad Stuff in the beginning. But that doesn't make the consequences that those things are having now any less real, and it doesn't help when I'm left to think about those things constantly while I attend wedding after wedding that isn't mine from relationship after relationship that started long after.

I also don't really feel like I can bring this up, because every SINGLE milestone of our relationship has been due to me begging for something to happen. I don't know how I can spend eternity in good consciousness if I do that to the last one too, and never get the satisfaction of knowing it was something he actually wanted. We're also also about to go on a trip in 2 weeks, and so I'm like, hey, maybe it'll happen there, but I want that feeling to come with EXCITEMENT, not relief and not some depressing just box to validate. And if I bring this up now, not only will I feel like it's forced, but I might shoot myself in the foot by causing another delay that fucks everything up to death,

UGH.

[springcrafter]

Man, the Antisemites are getting bold.

Friendly reminder that "from the river to the sea" is a chant calling for the extermination of half the world's Jewish populace. Like. I cannot believe that in the Year of the Lord 2023 I have to risk being targeted only so I can come out here and explain this.

And mind you I live in this shithole, I speak Hebrew, I get to see the worst of the worst that Jewish Israelis are saying. I'm not gonna repeat it because it could be triggering, but I'm also not gonna sit here and pretend everyone here is a peace-loving hippy. The difference being that vile attitudes are called out and made into outliers in broader society.

(Notably, I saw this when I was taking shelter from rockets on the stairwell - I live in a predominantly center-right area and when someone said something vile they were reminded that the Palestinians in Gaza aren't all Hamas, have no control of their fate, and also have it 100% worse than we ever will)

Thing is, Israelis are not a monolith and a sizable majority are unflinchingly critical of our government. Netanyahu put us in this position and he has so much blood on his hands it's not even a point worth making. By dividing and conquering and pretending that senseless violence is a show of strength, he has made us weaker. We're terrified and traumatized and he continues to perpetuate that fear and trauma to capitalize on it. He was right when he said this was our darkest hour, and he was the one who brought us here. All because he wants to stay in power and avoid going to jail. Over here we loathe him and criticize him more than anyone outside of Israel ever could.

I'm not behind him. I condemn his use of extreme violence and his disregard for Palestinian lives. I know the warmongers from either side don't care about their civilians and are happy to get rich from our suffering but he could at least pretend.

Listen. Call me a hippy, but I believe that everyone who calls this sliver of land their home should have a right to live here in peace. I believe in the right of the Palestinian people to independence and self-determination. Thing is, in my experience, "Free Palestine" is a slogan so vague that it can mean different things and I'm rather wary of it. Do you mean "free Palestine from the tyranny of its leaders and the Israeli occupation" or "free Palestine from all the Jews and kick them all to the sea"? It has become enough of a dogwhistle that I stopped trusting it and by extension, anyone who holds these views while conveniently ignoring the atrocities of October 7 and the frankly appalling reporting around the al-Ahli Arab Hospital explosion.

(It's the same with Zionism, and why I don't affiliate myself with the movement. I believe in the right of Jewish people to self-determination and a home in their ancestral homeland, and I think the unabashed Antisemitism I've seen lately justifies that position, but I cannot approve of the atrocities that have been done to get here or people who support and justify them)

My point is, if the (otherwise legitimate) Free Palestine movement is going to harbor, shelter and encourage Antisemitism - all I can say from here is, I see you. And while I would love to go elsewhere, alas, I'm stuck here, so that's not going to change.

(ETA: Thank you to the person in my replies for proving my point)

[lostloveletters]

yay sleepover weekend✨ do you have any woody/brady hcs💗

Hi yes! I need to mention @karasnonsense99 and @zaras-really-dreamless because some of this comes from the conversations I’ve had with them, so a million thanks🖤

HCs are under the cut! They're mostly post-war because that's what I've been working on for them recently.

Woody’s clingy. John’s the only person she really considers family besides Holly, and it’s not long before Holly’s back home in DC with Bucky. John’s not complaining, he doesn’t want to be without her for too long once they’re reunited after nearly two years apart. I don’t think they talk about it very much, at least he doesn’t bring it up, but there are times when he’s really glad she’s there to kind of physically ground him. A lot of late-night drives where Woody lets John just kind of have his space in the passenger seat while still knowing she’s there.

Woody doesn’t have a middle name, so her maiden name becomes her middle name, and that’s how they justify still introducing her as “Woody” to people even after her last name is no longer Woodward. She cringes a little every time someone calls her Kate. If they can't (or won't) call her Woody, Mrs. Brady is the next best choice, please. 

John knows from the start that Woody would never be a stay-at-home housewife type. He wouldn’t have married her if he had a problem with that. She works part-time as a mechanic, of course. The extra money definitely helps when they’re first starting out on their own and waiting for GI Bill stuff to kick in.

She’s not great at flirting, so she’s incredibly direct. He’s certainly not complaining about the ego boost but is exasperated at her complete disregard for subtlety sometimes, especially in public. She doesn’t see why it should be an issue because they’re married. He answers that yes, they are, but it’s peacetime and they’re stateside so they have to save it for when they’re back in the confines of their home.

Their house is older, three bedrooms but on the smaller side. I can see them with a lot of hand-me-down furniture from his relatives and “Hey, the trigonometry teacher said he’ll give us this couch he’s getting rid of if you see what’s wrong with his car.” Probably an old-school white Jesus painting somewhere on the wall, likely a housewarming gift from his mother. Always a little messy and kinda cramped, especially as time goes on and they have more kids (6-ish people sharing a full bathroom and half bath type of deal), but it’s very lived in and a comforting place to be.

Woody takes it upon herself to fix things around the house (she’s good at it, but she also has a bit of a complex about feeling like she’s not bringing much to their relationship. He never makes her feel that way, but her internal monologue isn’t always the nicest to her). So she’s on the roof. She probably has no business being on the roof. Somehow she talked John into holding the ladder for her, and he regrets it as soon as she’s up there, yelling to him about finding where rainwater’s leaking in from and replacing shingles.

They wait two or three years to have kids. It's not that Woody doesn't want to, but she's scared whatever made her parents not care about her might somehow be in her, too (it's not, her parents were just shitty, selfish people). John's over the moon when she tells him she thinks she's finally ready. It doesn't take long at all for her to get pregnant when they're actually trying.

Their first child is a daughter named Samantha (Sammy for short!) and they’re extremely lucky she’s a good kid because they have the hardest time saying “no” to her. John will tell her to go to her room and then she looks at him like 🥺🥺🥺 and he’s all “Wait, I didn’t mean it.” He takes it personally when Sammy says she's a big girl and doesn’t need story time before bed. Woody finds him listening to moody jazz under like a single lamp with a drink in his hand, lamenting Sammy’s growing up too fast (she’s five). 

Sammy’s an only child for a while, until she’s about school age and suddenly John and Woody are having a little bit of an emotional crisis and impulsively start trying for another kid. They have the rest of their kids in pretty quick succession after that, so there’s 5 or 6 years between Sammy and her next sibling, while the rest have maybe a year or so between them. There are no favorite children, except Sammy’s secretly John’s favorite. Don’t tell anyone.

[itsclydebitches]

IM SCREAMING, THEY SAW RUBY COMMIT MAGICAL SUICIDE AND JUST WENT ON THEIR MERRY WAY. WHAT IS WITH THIS SHOW AND REFUSING TO SHOW CHARACTERS EXPERIENCING EMOTIONAL REACTIONS TO THINGS HELP. The only emotions we get are Ruby's little fit and Jaune's paper thin depiction of PTSD. I'm gonna scream!

I think I'm in shock about it? I cannot stress enough that while I was prepared for the mess of Ruby's suicide attempt getting framed by the narrative in a positive light (this leads them to the way out, she gets some new ability, etc.) I still thought the GROUP would react appropriately. They just watched Ruby have a complete meltdown, she's already fainted once this Volume due to grief over Penny, they now understand the "hints" of depression Ruby has been displaying the last 24 hours (like her avoiding Crescent Rose), she runs away from them, is caught by Neo, gets the shit kicked out of her, and then looks them in the eye while drinking the Permanently Changes You And Erases Your Memories Tea while a fake Roman waxes on about how the world would be better off without her.

...and they're all just okay with that?

I was fully expecting Yang to go on a Super Saiyan rampage. I was prepared to write about how it's too little, too late now that Yang has revealed her supposedly-always-there love for Ruby after ignoring herfor most of the Volume. Regardless of how badly she's treated her little sister this season, it was oh-so-obvious to me that Yang was going to break, be inconsolable, go feral in an attempt to hunt down the Cat/Neo for revenge. I was expecting to see a frantic Blake and a near catatonic Weiss, horrified that she just lost someone else after her entire Kingdom was destroyed. I was waiting for Jaune's furious and annoyingly justified "I told you so!" after the Cat revealed their true colors and the tree - which he's said was evil this whole time - dragged Ruby away after she rolls over, 'dead' from its leaves that Neo gave her in an attempt to kill her.

Side note: for anyone who is seriously trying to argue that this wasn't a suicide attempt, if you consider nothing else, consider Neo. She does not want Ruby to be cured of her depression, or get a power-up, or take the supposedly magical medicine that will help her work through her problems. Why in the world would Neo give Ruby something harmless, let alone beneficial? Neo wants her dead. She gave her the tea to destroy Ruby once and for all and, when Ruby drank it, Neo believed she'd succeeded, becoming hollow as a result. She would not have been capable of being possessed if she believed that Ruby would survive and her revenge was incomplete. The whole reason the Cat was able to get to her was because Neo thought Ruby was gone for good and even the Cat themselves is surprised to find Ruby in the cocoon. Ruby, meanwhile, is drinking to escape the horrors of her own life that she can no longer face. That was a murder attempt turned suicide attempt.

So we've got [gestures] all of this and instead of reacting with anything like human emotions Blake is smiling as she tells Yang that this is a great thing for Ruby and Weiss is pulling a Volume 8 Yang by announcing that their mistakes don't matter because they were brave about it and Jaune is staring at these gem strangers that don't know him anymore right after watching the Cat horrifically possess Neo and announces that they were right about the tree? Seriously why is the surprise villain of the Volume positioned as the morally trustworthy source? Even Ironwood wasn't granted that.

Forget Ever After, I feel like I've fallen into a parallel universe. Not to be ~dramatic~ about it, but am I being pranked? Did someone sneak a RWBY parody onto Crunchyroll? Is RT pulling a Rebecca Welton and trying to tank their own show due to some personal grudge? I am legitimately trying to understand how we went from this

to this?

(Also, friendly reminder that the screenshot of Ruby is right after Little was murdered. I mean, I don't care about them and clearly Ruby herself should be the concern, but I just want to point out that no one acknowledges Little either. An ally has just been killed, brutally crushed during Ruby's torture session, so how do the characters react to this? They don't. They leave Little's body there and don't even mention them. Look at Yang's massive grin, Blake's satisfied smile, Weiss' (possibly romantic?) hug. Their leader just attempted suicide and a coded-as-a-child friend was just murdered... and this is how they're acting in the immediate aftermath.)

(Second friendly reminder that the group was already not reacting to the entirety of the Atlas fiasco and in the wake of the last three episodes I find myself frequently forgetting that. Yang thinking she'd died, Blake thinking she'd died, Weiss losing her entire Kingdom, not knowing which of her family members made it out, Salem getting two Relics, Jaune and Weiss still not revealing that he killed Penny... none of it is being dealt with and that was before we threw 'The group ignores Ruby trying to die' into the mix.')

[football-and-fanfics]

Three years - Alisson Becker & Virgil van Dijk

Who: Alisson Becker, Virgil van Dijk Request: In Liverpool's Carabao Cup victory, Alisson wasn't there with the other players. Virgil becomes suspicious about Alisson's strange absence and discovers, when they return home, that Alisson felt bad because the day before was the third anniversary of Alisson's father's death. He decides to visit Alisson and take care of him the next day with a good dose of affection and love because he knows how hell grief can be. Requested by: @bobbybecker-21 Word count: 507 Warnings: mentions of grief, loss of parent

At first, Virgil hadn't given much thought to Alisson not coming to Anfield for Liverpool's Carabao Cup final. Klopp wasn't mad about it either, so Virgil just assumed something more important had come up and the goalkeeper's absence was completely justified.

It wasn't until after the match, when the adrenaline of their win was wearing down, that things clicked into place for Virgil. His eye caught the date on his phone. And it wasn't exactly today's date that mattered, but rather yesterday's date. Yesterday was three years ago that Alisson's father had died.

Virgil mentally kicked himself for not realizing this sooner. How could he be so stupid as to forget this? It was nearing midnight now, so way too late to pay Alisson a visit anymore, but tomorrow Virgil surely would.

---

With the clock not even striking 10am yet, Virgil rang Alisson's doorbell the next morning. Alisson's eyebrows shot up in surprise when he opened the door to find his captain and friend on his doorstep.

"That must've been a short night," Alisson commented dryly, inviting Virgil inside. "That doesn't matter." Virgil shook his head. "I'm here because I... suddenly realized why you didn't come to the match yesterday." Alisson silently nodded his head. He didn't need Virgil to speak the actual words to know the Dutchman had come to the right conclusion.

"I really wanted to come to Anfield." Alisson's voice broke slightly. "But I... I couldn't. It's been three years, but that date still destroys me. I'm sorry, I should have been there for the team nonetheless." "I'm not here to scold you," Virgil quickly spoke, "I'm here to see if you're alright." "Oh..." Alisson looked somewhat surprised, almost like that possibility hadn't crossed his mind yet.

Virgil allowed a little silence, before he spoke again. "So, are you alright?" He asked carefully. Alisson shrugged. "Probably." "Ali," Virgil said warningly, "please, be honest with me." Alisson looked up at Virgil, a hint of tears in his eyes. "No... I'm not alright." He finally confessed in a thick voice. "They say time heals all wounds, but I've come to realize that it doesn't. On days like those I still feel as if it has only just happened."

Virgil sprang forward to pull Alisson into a tight bear hug. The Brazilian didn't resist to Virgil's arms around him, and instead soaked up the comfort.

"I know you're hurting." Virgil spoke softly, gently. "But never hide like this again. We support each other in the good times, but even more so in the hard times." Alisson nodded quietly into Virgil's shoulder, answering the hug by slinging his arms around Virgil's strong physique and holding on tightly.

They stood like that, quietly, for several minutes, until Alisson finally released the hug with a sniffle. "Do you have plans for today?" He mumbled. Virgil shook his head. "No. Why?" "Would you mind staying?" Alisson averted his gaze. "I could do with the company." Virgil clasped Alisson's shoulder. "Of course I'll stay. For as long as you need me to."

Request an imagine Alisson Becker masterlist | Virgil van Dijk masterlist Full writing masterlist

[mrs-heelshire]

𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚜.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚡 𝚐𝚗!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 / 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 / 𝙰𝚐𝚎𝚍-𝚞𝚙 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛

𝚃𝚆: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚗

You wanted to disappear, You just wanted to run away from your house where you were passing time with your best friend, Rintarou Suna. It all started just fine, him joining you for your weekly movie night, you preparing you both some snacks for the night. Everything was exactly like every other Friday night you spent together. Except for one tiny detail.

As you stood in the kitchen, moans could suddenly be heard from the couch where your friend sat. Jaw dropping, your brain was fast to catch up on what was happening. Rushing through the living room to take off your phone from his hands, you cursed yourself for forgetting to close Twitter. Your secret account still logs in, it only had been a matter of time before your nosy best friend found just about it as he did as always, going through your phone when you weren't looking. That account only had one use, watching adult content. It was there that you found content that would actually help you relieve some stress after a long day like this one.

Obviously keeping your phone away from your reach, he couldn't help but grin at your blushing face. In his eyes, you looked the cutest right now, all shy about something he could easily relate. That man definitely was enjoying this situation more than you. 

" Do you... imagine yourself instead of that person? " He teasingly asked, pointing to the person in the video that was receiving. 

That man has no shame to ask you this with a smirk painted on his face. Jaw clenching for an instant, you glared down at him. You weren't trying to shut down the video anymore. Now, there was no point in doing so. It definitely was too late. Just like he was too late to act all shy about watching porn. After all, he unquestionably watches some as well. You could tell just by the fact that he wasn't even blushing looking at two people having sex on the screen, right next to you.

" N... not really… " You tried to justify yourself before he cut you with an even larger grin on his face. 

" Oh please, quite lying, I can see it on your face. You're a pervert in disguise, looking all cute and… " And this time, it was you who would cut him before he even got the time to finish his sentence.

" I picture us. Us Rin, us, together. Now close that fucking computer and your mouth in the meantime, or I'll kick you out of my house. " Snapping, you decided to confess everything here and now. 

Instantly silent, Rin found himself taken aback. He didn't know what to say, or even what to do. Nevertheless, you, you knew exactly what to add. Now that you had started to speak, to confess everything you had hidden for a long time, you weren't going to stop. It was time to confess what was on your heart. 

" I had been picturing us for a long time and not only in intimate videos. Now, put that down and start the movie while I go get our snacks. " 

You hadn't even finished talking when the video was finally cut. It was no longer time to play, not after what you had just confessed to him. Grabbing your wrist to pull you closer, his lips crashed to yours in no time. It felt like a dream, and not only for you. You had no idea for how long your best friend wanted to do so. With you finally opening your heart, he couldn't let it go. It was now his time to open up to you. 

" Not going to lie here, I've been doing the same for quite a long time sweetheart, and I'm now planning to give it a try. "

[108garys]

Bleeding Hearts

So this is the longest bit of writing I've ever posted, I know it's nothing compared to a lot of the wonderful writers in the dark pictures fandom but it's the longest I've ever posted all at once. So people seem to like the way I write Charlie's darker traits and I had this idea of what a true role reversal would look like and what would drive Charlie under the circumstances, as always if anyone has anything that they think I should tag then let me know(and also as usual there wasn't a lot of time between completion and posting)

It somehow just occurred to me that this is my first proper Hecile fic, at least the first to actually get completed and posted

@kassiekolchek22 @mistmoose @delurkr @eddie-brii @oblivious-troll @ivycross @lonnitamongus @maria-rayro @blubary @ultrabananapudding @ctrvpani @timethehobo

(one of these days I'll stop being so mean to Hector in my writings)

Charlie kept him grounded. Shortly before he'd met him Hector had buried his mother, the last of his family, cracked a career defining case and very nearly went off the deep end interviewing the vile man who truly believed Hector could sink to his level…

The day they'd met he'd come home knuckles bruised from where he'd struck the Beast of Arkansas, if others hadn't intervened Manny Sherman's execution may have came a lot quicker and when he caught a stranger in his home that night he understood that anything was possible.

Charlie had fallen to his knees and begged for Hector to understand, he wanted to write about the case. He was taken aback by the audacity that the man could blatantly trespass and feel completely justified in his actions; Ultimately kicking him out for fear that this comparatively petty criminal would end up on the receiving end of violence meant for a far worse monster.

That should have been the end of it but the next day he found the younger man on his doorstep, this time asking for an interview. Humouring this request had quickly escalated into something unthinkable. Hector knew there was something wrong with him, sleeping with a man who he'd only met because the other broke into his home and when Charlie had to go back to the UK and he agreed to a long distance relationship Hector confirmed that there was something very wrong with both of them…

Over the next few years they'd periodically visit and for the first time in his life Hector had a halfway decent work life balance, when the 2000s rolled around the idea of Charlie moving to the US permanently came up more and more and after living together for a full year Hector concluded his boyfriend was indeed crazy. He was a little too into true crime, it was his dream to eventually direct documentarys about famous serial killers, he was fascinated by them and cohabitation with an FBI profiler was fuel to that fire.

Hector knew he shouldn't but … Eventually sharing details of his cases became a regular occurrence, it was good to get it off his chest… He knew that he should be concerned that this excited Charlie but… His boyfriend had always been a little eccentric, he dismissed it against his better judgement.

Charlie started working the night shift at a local grocery store, Hector didn't mind since he also worked late most nights. Charlie kept working on his passions on the side and it was almost like they were married.

In the mid 2000s work became busier for Hector and he had to travel for his cases, Charlie didn't take it well… Hector knew his boyfriend had some pretty intense abandonment issues and made sure to call him every night and promised to check in with him as much as possible…

After a close call on an investigation he woke up in the hospital in a different city. Charlie had destroyed their place in his anxiety when Hector didn't answer his calls, he became the most attentive boyfriend anyone could ask for during Hector's recovery… Sometimes he worried what Charlie would do if he died… It was best to not think about it.

He hit the ground running when he returned to work, a new serial killer was on the block. With three known victims he started painting a picture. All were men in their early thirties with few social ties, one came from out of state, the other two had immigrated, all three wore glasses, their hair ranged from light brown to dirty blond but there was no mistaking it, they looked like Charlie…

At first Hector wanted to protect him from this information but he had to know. He promised he wouldn't let anything happen to him and Charlie clung to him any chance he could get… He needed to solve this case.

Months went by and more victims emerged. Stabbed in the heart, with no other injuries and an expression of shock… These men were clearly taken by surprise. When a body turned up a block away from Charlie's work, along the route he took home Hector couldn't take it anymore!

"I've been thinking…" Charlie looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes of his, "Charlie, until this case is solved I-, I think you should go back to England." Charlie dropped his spoon into his cereal splashing milk across the table. "What!?" Charlie looked betrayed, his bowl was spilt. "You… You want to get rid of me?" Charlie asked in small voice, tears in his eyes. "No- I…" Hector took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, "Charlie I can't keep being called to crime scenes, seeing you in the faces of this bastard's victims, I just want you to be safe."

"Fine." Hector could deal with Charlie's temper, he could deal with his tantrums, but when Charlie was cold to him… Hector watched as Charlie got up from his seat and went to their room without another word, he decided to give him some space as he cleaned up the mess. Doing the dishes before going to check on him.

Hector stood in the doorway in silence… The room was empty!? Draws emptied, the room in disarray… The window wide open… "Charlie?" Hector didn't want to believe he was gone, he tried to call him only to feel his heart sink as Charlie's phone rang out in the room… "He couldn't have gotten far…" Hector reassured himself, throwing on his coat and getting his keys.

He spent all day searching for his boyfriend, this wasn't like him… Hector concluded that Charlie must be terrified and that the idea of being away from him scared him more. He kept his phone close at hand just in case Charlie went home and decided to call… He should've asked Charlie to take the day shift, or find another job, hell he made enough that Charlie could be unemployed!

The sun was setting as his mobile phone rang. Hector didn't even look at it before answering, before he could say anything he heard a colleague's voice on the other end. An eerie cold washed over him… His hands were trembling as he heard that another victim had been discovered, killed within the past few hours… He had to ask them to repeat the address a few times and as the call ended he stood on the sidewalk. Heart pounding in his ears. It isn't him… It… It can't be… He should keep looking, he couldn't abandon Charlie… But what if-?

Hector looked in the direction the crime scene… It wasn't far, "Forgive me Charlie."

This one was different… The victim had been killed with extreme malice, his face so disfigured that only his ID could confirm his resemblance to the others. Hector was conflicted… He was disturbed by the sight, horrified that the killer seemed to be escalating… But at the same time he was relieved that it wasn't Charlie and that made him feel like a monster.

It was just before sunrise when he came home, physically and emotionally exhausted,he heard the shower going and saw that Charlie had made dinner. What was he supposed to do?

Part way through having his reheated pasta and quietly reflecting on the past day Charlie came into the kitchen, he smiled like nothing happened. "How was work?" Hector didn't say anything, he wish he could say he was shocked, Charlie stood next to his chair, Hector leaned into his touch and just let it all fall away for a moment as Charlie wrapped his arms around him, kissing him on the top of his head. It wasn't until he ran his free hand over Charlie's arm that Hector noticed the bandage. He froze for a moment, turning to look at his boyfriend as the arm was pulled out of his grasp. "Charlie? What-"

"I hurt it at work." Charlie said defensively, Hector wanted to ask about specifics he wanted to talk about Charlie's actions or what he had seen but instead steadied his voice and started over. "I've had time to think…" his eyes followed Charlie as he moved to the other side of the table and sat down, a worried look on his face. "We we're both a little too hasty yesterday, I want you to be safe but there are so many other options before banishing you back to England." Hector picked at his food still a little nervous. "The best I can think of is for you to request the day shift or quit, I can support us, I just-"

"Okay… I'll call my boss, if I can't get my shift changed," Charlie looked away, "I'll trust your judgement." Hector let out a sigh of relief that they'd found a compromise. He finished his dinner feeling a little lighter and when he finally found his way to bed he slept a little easier. He never told Charlie what he saw.

The next week was a blur but Charlie kept Hector grounded. He could do this, he had captured the Beast of Arkansas… He could do this. He needed more than anything to solve this case.

Early morning on his day off he woke wrapped up in Charlie's arms, he never wanted this to change. Hector carefully extracted himself from his sleeping partner's grasp, taking a moment to admire how peaceful he looked. After his morning routine hector decided to catch up on laundry, he preferred to get things done on his off days. It was a running joke that Charlie claimed Hector would die if forced to actually relax. He was probably right… He paused noticing a balled up shirt pushed into a corner, a little out of sight, it was one of Charlie's button up shirts, it was dark red, Hector had bought it for him. the sleeve was torn up… It seemed clean, maybe even a little too clean? Perhaps Charlie gave up on repairing it after he washed it? Charlie probably felt bad about ruining it… Hector absent mindedly tucked it away, making note to ask Charlie what exactly happened at his work…

He couldn't get the most recent victim out of his head, the guilt he felt that he was happy it wasn't Charlie, the horror of knowing it could have been… They still didn't talk about it, maybe it was selfish but he wanted to only think about Charlie but… He felt like something was alluding him, why did they all look like him? He and Charlie had been living together openly for years now, he was certain that they'd be married one day… Was he being messed with? His name was in the news surrounding the Manny Sherman case… Maybe his private life was too public? It wasn't like they were screaming from the rooftops… He and Charlie were the normal amount of open about their relationship, maybe that was too much for someone in his line of work…

He couldn't sit still, he had to get out and put these thoughts into something useful. He left a note to let Charlie know he where he was going and left as soon as his washing was in the dryer. It wasn't unusual for him to work on his day off so nobody would be shocked if he took another look around the crime scene…

When he arrived at the old dockside warehouse he let himself in, the place didn't seem unusual… He put on a pair of gloves and got to picking over everything, looking for… He wasn't exactly sure what, but he was determined to find it. After over an hour of fruitless searching Hector stepped out side, lighting a cigarette. This side of the building looked out over the water, a chain link fence ran around the perimeter. Old and rusted, it may as well be torn down, as smoke drifted lazily into the grey morning, his mind was racing… As if in answer to an unspoken prayer Hector noticed something from the corner of his eye.

Where the fence met the building the chain link was separated enough for a person to crawl through, not remarkable in of itself as the whole thing was filled with holes but caught on the edge was a small strip of fabric. Dark red, bloodstained? He carefully removed it, placing it in a clear evidence bag… Maybe he was desperate... He was desperate, but this could be important. he stashed the bag in his coat, he'd drop by the house on his way to hand it off to forensics.

When Hector arrived, Charlie was writing one of his true crime things. Hector kissed him and poured a cup of coffee. He didn't tell Charlie what he'd found, Charlie hadn't asked about it… That was a little unusual but he must be focused on his writing, he figured he could afford to fold the washing before he headed for the office. After idle conversation, no that was underselling it… There was nothing more he loved than just talking to Charlie about anything and everything… It made him look forward to being off the clock, even if he knew he had a problem with actually staying off the clock.

He went went back to the laundry, satisfied with how productive the day had been so far, he didn't even remove his coat given he'd be heading out again soon. As he folded the clothes he stopped, his literal shred of evidence had fallen out of his coat pocket, he should put it somewhere safe so it doesn't get lost-

His brain crashed into a brick wall at full speed as his hand paused an inch above the bag… He stared at it, dumbfounded. It took him a minute to even articulate what the problem was and then… And then a few more dreadful heart wrenching minuets to actually get his thoughts to make sense but they didn't, it didn't make any sense… It couldn't… He'd prove it to himself, it was an stupid irrational thought. He grabbed the bag and dug out the shirt, laying it flat on the table. He kept his eyes shut. Deafened by his own heart beat as he smoothed out the fabric, feeling along the torn sleeve. He layed the fabric strip next to it in its clear bag… Hands braced on the laundry table as he breathes slowly, he tilted his head down. He'd open his eyes and feel like the biggest idiot in the universe… Maybe he'd been in this field for too long, maybe what he and Charlie needed was to get far away from it all but… He had to solve this, had to know.

He felt numb as he looked down, a perfect fit… He didn't move, didn't breathe, if it was possible he's sure his heart would have stopped… He was an empty shell and his boyfriend was a serial killer… Part of him died when he even considerd suspecting Charlie, he felt dully that his life was over… He couldn't live with himself if he turned Charlie in, his career was over either way, he'd either be the washed up profiler who couldn't even see the truth right in front of him or he'd be found out as the rogue agent who intentionally mislead the investigation to protect his lover-

"Hector?" Charlie stood in the doorway, Hector didn't move, didn't respond. He stared blankly down at the torn shirt as he heard Charlie's footsteps behind him. His heart started beating again as Charlie wrapped his arms around him, he could breathe… Charlie kept him grounded, kept him together. He blinked away tears that threatened to fall from his eyes as Charlie moved to see what he was looking at. He froze, just as Hector had, a shocked gasp escaped Charlie. Hector tore his eyes away from the shirt as he turned, wrapping his arms around Charlie, holding him firmly to his chest. They stared at each other, shaky anxious breathes filling the small room…

"Why?" It was barely audible but the single word carried the crushing weight of the world, of everything they had and could have had… Charlie pleaded with him wordlessly to take it back, to turn his head and forget what he saw… Tears started to stream down his face and Hector couldn't help but reach out, his hand stopped short of Charlie's cheek. He couldn't do it, he couldn't hurt Charlie and he couldn't pretend he didn't know what he knew. He asked again, more insistently. "Why did you… Why did you do it?"

Charlie stepped back, Hector had loosened his hold when he was sure Charlie wasn't going to run from him. He watched as his boyfriend rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Anticipation clawed at Hector as Charlie looked at him calmly. "I didn't want to share you, not even with the dead."

"What?" Hector spoke so quietly that he wasn't even sure he had spoken, was he having some messed up nightmare!? He knew Charlie was the jealous type but this!? Committing murder to… To make it so Hector thought of Charlie at all times… He didn't want to believe it, he didn't want to acknowledge that it had worked. "You're insane…" he shook his head, he'd known this about Charlie since they met, every single red flag that he'd actively dismissed and yet… He could have killed him, the day they met he was in such a dark place that he knows he could have done it, knew that man was right about him and deep down… He dismissed every single warning sign because he couldn't handle that fact. He looked Charlie in the eye and asked. "When did you start killing?" his voice was calm, like he was asking about a hobby, Charlie looked like he'd been slapped. He remained quiet for a moment, speaking only when he could no longer avoid the question…

"It was an accident."

"Charlie… Please…" Hector took a careful step towards him. "…tell me."

"it was before we met, I had just turned eighteen and was going out with some friends since we were finally old enough to drink back home," Hector listened as Charlie spoke carefully, "I had this… Friend, I'd been head over heels for him but I kept it too myself," Charlie wrapped his arms around himself, looking at the floor. "I always wanted to scream whenever he got a girlfriend but that night, free of the usual restraint I just… I yelled at him, shoved him and left him where he lay on the way home." Charlie looked back at Hector with a pained smile. "He never got up and nobody ever found out, said he fell and hit his head and… Well that's not the point."

"Nobody suspected a thing, I could have blamed my intoxication but… I said we split up sooner, it was easy… I thought if… If I could understand why it was so easy then…"

"That's why you're into true crime?" Hector asked taking another step, Charlie was crying again. "Were you hoping to find something that could rationalise away your guilt? Or your guilt for not feeling guilty?" Hector hated that it made sense to him, Charlie stepped back looking hurt. "Hector… What are you going to do?" they both knew he held all the cards here, he grabbed Charlie by the shoulders. Looking directly into his eyes. "You understand that we can't be together anymore, right? Charlie, our life is over… You never-"

"Are you going to turn me in?" Charlie asked bluntly, neither of them could handle this uncertainty anymore… Hector looked at him, he knew there was something very wrong with the both of them. His mind was made up and he refused to second guess himself. He cupped Charlie's face, kissing him deeply before preparing to go further past the point of no return.

"Listen to me, Charlie… Promise me you'll do exactly what I tell you." Charlie kept Hector grounded, he'd done so for years and without him… "Say you promise."

"I promise, Hector, I'll do anything." Hector was already dead, the future they'd planned had died the moment he suspected his love… Marriage, growing old together… Gone. And yet… He smiled at Charlie. It was going to be ok, he would fix it… He knew what he had to do…

--

Charlie Lonnit sat behind his desk at the office, researching for an upcoming episode of architects of murder, his employees chatting amongst themselves.

"Hey what about the bleeding hearts killer?" Kate suggested, "All his murders were committed right here in Chicago, we wouldn't even have to travel." She looked around for everyone else's input. "Didn't that guy exclusively kill men who looked like his boyfriend?" Jamie asked without looking up, she was fiddling with a damaged piece of film equipment, Erin had headphones on, generally ignoring the conversation.

"That's fucked up," Mark responded, "What happened to the boyfriend anyway?" Charlie looked up at them. "No one knows, he was still alive during the time of the murders but his name was kept out of the press for his safety," Kate scrolled through some information about the case, "I guarantee that poor man never wants to think about his evil ex again, I'd be surprised if he wasn't getting abused throughout the whole relationship…" she got up from the couch she was lounging on, stretching as she continued casually. "He probably celebrated when that bastard died in a fire."

"I'd like to believe they really loved each other," Charlie defended, "What the fuck Charles!? You're a real piece of work-"

The phone rings.

Charlie shushes her, Answering the call. Grateful for the life his love gave him…