#sometimes she texts me at night to tell me to go look at the moon cuz its so pretty that night or whatever

[stillalittlelostngl]

Was in the glide path of the last solar eclipse in 2017 and will be again for the next one in 2024 - isn't the universe a funny thing?

[lynaferns]

The Forest On The Other Side

Chapter 1: I want to go home.

Ver. [ENGLISH / SPANISH]

EDIT: This fic is now on AO3

A girl gets lost in the forest and finds a misterious gate in the middle of nowhere. At the other side she meets a... very peculiar individual who seems to only want to befriend her and play. Everything seems fine. Until night falls and someone else joins to play...

Again, I appreciate feedback about the english adaptation. English is not my first lenguage and I still mess up sometimes.

This is in some way a more "joyful" story than BIOMáquina, still with its dark themes. I wrote this a year ago. By this I mean I forced myself to get it written down and ended up hating it and burning myself out. A couple of weeks ago I decided to reread it and I though it was pretty ok actually, so I edited it a bit to make it flow better. It used to be written more as a script for the comic I wanted to draw buuuut that didn't happen (cough stressed myself out cough forced myself cough don't force yourself to make content out of a hobby, a hobby is supposed to be for your own fun). I'm not completely satisfied with the final draft but I think is good enough for my first ever fic written.

I originally planned to make it a Y/N thing but that didn't last long. But I keeped the original idea of the first person POV. The Y/N stories I've read has always some narrator telling you what you do insert you in the story. I thought of making the MC the narrator, this way the reader can insert themselves like it's their story or they can read it as if someone else is telling them a story. This is also a bit limiting, since the narration is also the MCs thought process and sometimes I may skip details MC couldn't have seen.

AU, Magical forest, DCA centered, Sun fnaf, Moon fnaf, Elves Sun & Moon, OC, Selfinsert, Character & OC, platonic, friendship, slowburn (kind of), Moon is agresive at first, Moon is also a bit of a gremlin, Protective Sun (I think), OC is a potty mouth, Female Main Character, First person, Angst.

The first post where I showed this AU and my first sketches ideas.

Tumblr archive with all of the art, ideas and anwsered asks.

Youtube Playlist which I'm pretty proud of how it turned out :] It's in a specific order but you can put it on mix.

Note: even though I try to keep things light some things may be triggering for some readers.

CW: Anxiety, Suicide ideation, Implied death, Choking, Non sexual abuse.

Wordcount: 9,700 (It's not rounded, that's literally the number Word tells me it's at lol)

Welp.

Here we are again, in the old village house (yey...). Well, 'I am', my family won't arrive to settle in for another week. They brought me here beforehand a few days ago for organizational reasons. They took a quick look inside before they left to see the state of the house, if it needed any repairs and such, and they headed back to the city. While they finish preparing everything, I take care of the house and text them messages about anything that may be needed for when they return.

We haven't been here in years, the house needs some repairs, and I'm sorry for the spiders, but it could use a deep cleaning. We can't do a deep cleaning but I have been cleaning what I can these last few days, at least so that it looks decent... at first glance.

Well, it's not like anyone is coming to visit.

It's a quiet town, until the kids from the town next door come to make a racket with their bikes. They play in our field, scare away the cats and throw cans around. They are assholes.

Anyways, the people in the village are nice. The adults I mean, the kids I used to play with, I don't get along with them anymore. Some of them aren't kids anymore, we have grown up and are going down different paths. But those who are still kids... they're still interested in the only older kid in the town who listened to them and let them do whatever they wanted, to a certain extent.

I don't want them to come looking for me to go out and play. I've been avoiding them by saying that I'm busy cleaning the house and getting it ready for when my family arrives, but I feel like interacting with them less and less. That's why I'm going out to the woods behind the house to get lost for a while, as always. The kids don't go near the forest so they won't bother me there.

There is an area for tourism and hiking but not many people come, some police cars border the forest from time to time but they never go inside. The reports of missing people in this forest have been coming in for decades, only some lost children have returned but there is no trace of any of the adults who disappeared along with the rest of the children. The areas marked with signs are safe but you can't go out of bounds unless you want to disappear with those people.

And I, who right now am alone and with no one to notice my absence if I go missing, am going to head straight to the forest. Don't you think, I don't want to disappear, I just don't like people and I usually go into the forest but I don't go too far away. As long as I see my house in the distance, I know how to return.

I grab my bag with my sketchbook and pencil case, in case I feel like drawing (probably won't) and step out to the back porch. The outer sliding metal door that protects the inner one is rusty and difficult to open. It would be better to oil it but I don't know when it will be done, considering that the broken railing has had a wooden board tied to it for years. I already sent my mother a message talking about it.

I enter the forest and start walking around. It's hot, of course, it's early summer, but it's quite noticeable after being in the cool inside the brick and stone house. That's the good thing about coming here in summer, the houses are made to stay cold inside and it's great, sometimes I even need to wear a jacket. But outside I'm dying, the trees don't provide enough shade. In fact, some trees are missing. I used to have my routes memorized but time has passed and some paths have changed, some have disappeared and others have formed. I admit that it makes me a little sad... I began to walk absorbed in my thoughts not paying attention to where I was going.

I'm walking away, I should go back. I'm not going to draw anything here anyway, and it's hotter outside than inside so I'm gonna to turn around-

I hear screams and laughter in the distance, the sound of the voices produces me an immediate disgust. It's those kids from the next door village. They must have come to 'investigate' about the disappearances or maybe they don't care and they just came to be idiots-

They're getting closer.

I don't want them to see me. God. Don't let them see me. Anyone but them. They're getting closser. Don't let them see me. I can't go back home now. They're cutting me off. Of all the people who could have found me. It had to be them. No, please. Don't let them see me. I have to go further into the forest, I can't let them see me. They're getting closer. Don't let them see me. I want to leave. I want to leave. I'm getting too far. I want to leave. I don't see my house. I want to leave. I don't see the village. I want to leave. I don't see the kids.

...

...

...

Where am I?

Fuck.

Where am I?

I want to leave.

I want to leave.

I want to leave.

I want to leave.

…

—

Now I'm wandering through the forest. I don't want to go back. I want to get out of here. Even though I'm walking in a straight line I feel like I'm going around in circles, and I'm not going to get out of here now. Great. I'm lost. Now what? People who get lost in this forest don't return, no one has returned except for some children.

...

I'm going to disappear.

...

For now I keep walking until something happens. Maybe there's an animal that kills people who get lost, or maybe it's a group of kidnappers, or maybe I should stop giving myself anxiety and focus on getting out of here. Maybe if I find a field or road, or even the tourist area, I'll be able to get out of here and return bordering the fores-

...

There is... colorful graffitis on the trees. Someone has painted eyes, hands, stars and more on the bark of the trees...

What's this?

I don't know where I've come to, I didn't know this was here, in the middle of nowhere in the forest. The trees have red leaves like in autumn even though summer has just started... The first thing I thought was 'climate change's fault' but there is something that stands out in the middle of this entire flat area and it is disturbing me.

In the center there is a kind of circular gate made of stones supported by roots.

Okay, maybe it doesn't sound aaaaas disturbing as, I don't know, a totem with a human figure being impaled or something, but it's giving me a bad vibe. What is this place? Who built a stone arch in the middle of everything and why?

A bird appears flying from behind me and goes through the gate, but nothing comes out on the other side... wait what? how? The bird has crossed the gate, and disappeared behind the stone arch? ...I had to imagine it, it's not possible that that happened. I approach the arch but not before picking up a rock from the ground and throwing it to the other side of the gate.

It's still there.

…

For some reason the thought of going through the gate makes me uncomfortable, so I go around it.

...

...And the rock? It's not there.

I go back and look from inside the portal.

The rock is there.

...

I look from outside. The rock is not there. I repeat this multiple times. Rock. No rock. Rock. No rock. Rock. No rock... What?

Alright, this is weird, this is VERY weird.

Even though it is clear that this isn't normal, I have to go back, pick up a fallen branch from the ground and pass it through the portal. This time I don't throw it, I've grabbed a branch long enough to see it peek out from the other side of the arch.

...

Welp.

I should be seeing not only the branch, but also my hand sticking out of the side, but I'M NOT SEEING IT. OKAY. OK. ALRIGHT. IT'S CONFIRMED. THIS IS WEIRD.

I'm asleep, right? Or unconscious. I must have passed out from exhaustion from endlessly wandering through the woods and I'm delirious or something. No, wait, it can't be, in my dreams I'm not this aware of what's around me. Where am I?

A breeze begins to pass through the gate. It's getting stronger but not enough to push me. The leaves rise from the ground and float towards the portal, none slipping outside, all entering through the stone arch. Suddenly the breeze that had become wind stops. The leaves fall to the ground.

...

I look back for a moment, as if there was something behind me that could help me make a decision. Grabbing with both hands my bag strap I look back at the portal again. Okay. Alright. This is possibly the death of me. I'm going to cross. I'm going to go to the other side. I'm just one step away from crossing. I wrinkle my face and narrow my eyes before taking the last step.

...

Nothing has happened. Everything seems the same. However, I know it's not the same... Or at least it doesn't feel the same!

Well, I've already crossed. I'm gonna... keep walking, I guess, even though this is scaring me and I don't know if I'll know how to go back. For now I'm moving forward. The red leaves have disappeared several meters ago. It's starting to look like a normal forest, except for the multicolored drawings and handprints that I keep seeing on the trees. In fact, it seems like the trees are taller with every step I take. So high that I can barely see the top. I almost tripped while looking up. Whether this is the same forest I come from, I no longer know.

This was a bad idea. I just hope to find something that'll help me know where I am, a sign or the road if possible.

*cling*

...?

I hit something with my foot. There is a ball attached to a small chain on the ground. Oh, no, wait. *cling diring ding* It's a rusty bell, I think. It doesn't have the typical cross-shaped hole or slot, rather it has several holes in a pattern. It looks like it can be opened.

There's nothing inside.

?

There's nothing? But I could have sworn it had rang. I close it again and shake it.

*...*

Nothing.

I'm going to put it in the bag, it's totally a good idea. I'll think about it later, for now I'm moving on.

—

I've been walking for a while now and throughout this time I had a constant chill on the back of my neck, as if someone had their eyes on me.

*din dirring* I hear a soft tinkling in the distance.

Okay, I'm not alone, awesome, what do I do now? Do I say hi and risk the potential danger finding me? Do I ignore the sound of bells and keep moving? It's very possible that whatever made that sound is watching me right now...

“Hello?” Still nervous, I try to say hello looking around “...” “Is someone there? H-hello?”

“-HEEEEELLO!”

“AAAAAH-!” I cover my mouth with my hands as I turn to look at what the hell has greeted me back. I take a few steps back while I look at the figure of earthy and sunny tones who responded, he seems as surprised as I am, I think (with the scream I made, normal), at least it looks like he's surprised. He wears a two toned wooden mask... it looks like a sun, with a crescent moon on its right... It gives the impression of two faces merged into one... Damn, he is tall, he's almost doubles my size. He appears to have two skin tones dividing him in half, his right side being the lighter and the left darker, especially the arm, which also has a light-colored tattoo of lines representing a sun symbol that covers from the shoulder to the pectoral and to the middle of the bicep. The right arm is covered by a long fingerless glove that reaches to the shoulder and is tied around the chest. He's wearing baggy pants with leaves coming out of the waist and legs, some... cloth boots? with a long toe bending sharply and curving in a geometric swirl with a bell at the tips, a bag hangs from the waistband of his pants and falls below his hips. His chest and neck are tied by ropes decorated with hanging stones, metals and crystals, he wears a pendant that ends in a carved symbol of a crescent moon with rays. Some of the 'sunrays' on his mask have ropes tied between them holding them in place and some metal dangling. Some red ribbons along with bells hang from his wrists.

“um... Helloooooo.” He greets again, this time he lowers his tone of voice. I manage to react, I turn around and walk away. “¡ah- eh- Wait!” Nope, I'm not going to wait and see what he does with me, I'm leaving. “He-! Hey!” Nope. I quicken my pace and try to get lost among the trees, changing direction every time he appears in my vision angle. “Human? Human-! FRIEND. Can I call you friend?!” Nope, nope, nopnop, nop, nop, nope. “Friend! Hey!” God, no, god, god, no, why are you following me? “Look, I know what you're trying to look for...! And believe me, you're not going to find it~!” How are you still following me? Where do you come from? “Hey! Listen! Why don't we do something else besides running in circles!?” Noooooooooo... “There are TONS of other activities we could do! Like... HOLY MOLY, look at this stick! Do you like sticks!?” Leave me aloneee... “You aren't looking at it! Okay, alright, you don't like sticks, erm... what might be of interest to you...” If I don't look at it it doesn't exist. “Could you help me a little here?” I want to leave... “Look, no matter how much you wander around, you won't find the portal-!”

“STOP—! STOP FOLLOWING ME! LEAVE ME ALONE!” The sudden scream startles him again, making him jump in place. He stands completely still looking at me. I'm leaving before he gets angry.

“B-but I- ...okay.” I thought I heard him say before I left him behind.

It seems that this time he's not following me, finally... Although I'm not calm, he could still be following me and simply not be in sight. Anyway, I think I'm coming back? I hope I am. I want to find that portal as soon as possible and go back to the house- what the fu-? “WHY?”

He's there. Right where I left him. Sitting on a rock. Waiting. “...! I haven't moved from the spot!”

“Yeah- but- WHY?”

“Because I knew you were going to come back here!”

“...What?”

“Is what I was trying to tell you! You can't leave! No matter how hard you try to find the portal, it won't appear before you!” The Sunman exclaimed.

“…” I'm just about to turn around. In fact, I'm already turning around.

“N-No, wait! Please don't go!” I stop in my track and look back at him. He gets off the rock he was sitting on but remains squatting, almost at my height, a little below. I move back, keeping my distance. He puts his hands up. “Look, I'm not doing anything! I won't chase you! Just- ...don't go.”

“…”

“L-look, listen, there's no way it's going to show up! Well, not to you at least. But even if you find it back, it won't work! It only works when it wants to work.”

“...” Let's imagine that I trust what he says “Ok... and when does it want to be working?”

“...” “No idea!”

“...”

“...”

I'm about to collapse on the spot. At least he doesn't seem hostile, for now. “...” “Okay... Good... Great...” “...” “FanTAS-tic.”

“...” “You don't seem like it.”

*ಠ_ಠ* I could only look to the side in frustration in response to that. I looked back at him with concern showing on my face and grabbing the strap of my bag with both hands. “And... what... do you plan to do with me?”

He took his hand to the chin of his mask and with the other he held his elbow in a comical thoughtful pose. “MmmmnnDUN know! What do you plan to do?” He asked so nonchalantly. He ended up sitting on the ground crossing his legs. “You have a good while until the portal opens again...!”

“...”

“...”

“...”

He started swaying. The silence has become uncomfortable for a while now, but I can't organize myself on what to say, and I don't know if I trust him. I don't even know if he's human, although something tells me he's not.

“You could wait here.” He suggested, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Or anywhere else, if you want. I would recommend somewhere high like the treetops (for no particular reason)! If you're going to wait... But wouldn't that be really boring?” There was something in his tone of voice... “Being there... at the top of a tree... waiting... alone... with no friends to hang out with (can I call you a friend?). Aaall on your own until the portal opens again.” He looks aside for a moment “...” And back at me again. “With no one to be with you.” He repeats the head motion “...” “alone...” Wow... I wonder what he's implying, ahem. “Wouldn't you want to have someone...? ...Someone...keeping you company?” Yeah, yeah...

“...” I guess... “I-I guess I wouldn't want to be alon-?”

He rises to his knees. “That's what I thought! Do you want me to accompany you? Only if you want! But can I?” He clasped his hands together as if asking a favor.

“um...”

“Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?” He approaches, dragging his knees on the ground.

I'm starting to miss personal space. “Okay! Okay, alright...”

“REALLY?” He started hopping and jumping around me. “OH, ohoho hO! Great! Oh, there are TONS of things we could do! Like... Like...!” He moves faster, doing bigger and bigger flips and jumps, it almost seems that he is very light, as if the breeze of air lifted him. “We could paint and decorate trees! Or we can also paint on rocks! Or paint leaves! Or paint us! Oh! We can tell stories! I'm very good at making shadows and puppets.” He moves from place to place with each sentence he says. “We can also play something!” It's moving so fast all I can see is the wind and the leaves it stirs up as it moves. “Anything! Whatever you want!” Finally he stopped in front of me half crouched. “What do ya say?! Hmm! Friend!?”

“Don't... call me like that.” Makes me feel awkward.

“Oh...why not-? Oh true, true! How silly, I don't know your name! What do you call yourself, potential friend?”

“...”

“...” “Aren't... you gonna tell me your name?”

I twist the bag strap “Depends...” I must say I'm a little skeptical about this. “Are there any consequences for telling you my name?”

“...Consequences...?”

“Like... I don't know... Mmm-by telling you my name I become your possession and cannot regain my freedom until... certain conditions are met...”

“...”

“...”

“Why- how-? Where did you get that from!?” It did sound a bit stupid when I said it out loud.

“I dunno- that's what they say in old children's stories about elves and fairies!” I just hope the embarrassment isn't showing on my face.

“Really?” I could feel his deadpan expression behind the mask.

I shrugged.

“...” “Okay... Oh, what if I tell you my name first? Will you tell me yours? It's only fair, I'm Sun!”

“...”

“Can I know your name now?” He asked expectantly.

“...How do I know you're not trying to trick me?”

“...” I must be driving him crazy with this “The only thing I can do with your name is treasure it in my memory.” He put his hands together as if he was carefully holding something and brought them to the forehead of the mask. I gave him a distrustful look. It doesn't seem like it made him desist “Please?”

I grip at my worn out bag strap “...” “ Fern...” I ended up murmuring.

“Hmm? Fern? OH, I like it!” “Sounds like FRIEND.” He emphasized the last word by making a gesture like jazz hands, leaning to the side and moving his head closer to me.

“Yeah... I think you are missing a couple of letters.”

He straightened his posture again. “Nope, I don't think so!”

“You're still not my friend.”

“Oooowwwwwnnnnnggghhh” He lowers his head dramatically until it practically touches the ground “nnnnnnngggghh, alright!” And cartwheels to stand up again “So... what will it be?”

“Hm?”

He straightened his posture and puts his arms on his hips “We have plenty of time, ya? What do you wanna to do?”

“I don't know, what do you want to do-?” Bad mistake.

“Come with me!”

“aaAAAAA-!” Before I knew it, he had grabbed my arm and I was being dragged through the woods. We visited several places and he offered me an activity to do in each of them.

—

Sun took me to a place where the trees were full of colorful paint “We practice painting on the trees here!” He said.

“Ah.” That explains the crossed out lines and the repeated imperfect shapes. By the look of it is also where he tests the quality of the paint.

“Do you want us to paint something!?”

“Not really...”

“Oh, would you prefer it to be on a rock?”

“Nah.”

“...And in star leaves-?”

“I don't want to paint, Sun.”

“Oh... Well, I can show you more places!”

“OkayyEEEEEE-” And I'm being dragged away again.

—

He brought me to another area of the forest, the ground here seemed more leveled. Not a single tree was straight, all of them were twisted and even seemed to be hollow. “How about playing something!? Like hide and seek-! No, wait, I can’t let you out of my sight.” He mumbled at the end “And chase?! We can climb a tree and see who reaches the top first! We have a place full of vines and it's perfect for swinging- and jumping from one tree to another-!”

“I don't... really want to move a lot…” With the way he runs without getting tired and me, who doesn't exercise... he would let me dead.

“Oh... well, theeen-”

—

We arrived at a place full of vegetation and humidity. Sun seemed quite excited... “This place is full of insects! We can look for cool bugs!”

“Mmmmmnoooo... I don't want to.” I had to tell him, trying to show as little disinterest as I could.

“You don't like them?” He sounded a little disappointed hearing my reaction.

“No, I do like them, some of them, but I don't like to touch them.” And I'm terrified of them flying into my face.

“Oh, well, it's okay!” He said brushing it off and we moved on to the next stop.

—

“I know that bird!” He stopped us on the way to point at a robin high up on a branch.

“ah.” I said as I removed leaves from my hair and clothes, and checked that I still had my glasses.

“He's a little rascal!”

“...” I think the bird is making us the equivalent of 'mooning'.

—

“Look fish-! Oh, they're gone…” The noise must have scared them away “We can go find more places to look at them if you want!”

“...” “...no, pass...”

“…”

—

“Look at this stick!” Sun had suddenly sprinted past me, picked up something from the ground, and came back just as fast, showing me the stick as if it were a sword.

“oh.” It's a cool stick, must admit it.

“Do you want to look for more sticks!?”

“No...”

“oh...” He looked at the ground in disappointment.

“Why would we go looking for sticks? There are all over the ground.” Specifically, in this area the ground was all sticks. We are literally just stepping on sticks right now. I don't see the ground.

“Variety!” Sun said pointing at the ground with both hands. A branch is heard falling in the distance.

—

“That's a deer!” He pointed at the deer passing nearby. The deer stopped to look at us.

“Yeah, I see.”

“We call 'em Adoquín!”

“...Why is it called Adoquí-?”

*THUMP!*

“…”

The deer smacked itself against a tree when trying to run away. It stands still for a minute, processing the hit, looks at a side and then the other, then runs off again but this time avoiding the tree.

Another *thump!* is heard in the distance.

“...” Alright.

—

“Do you wannaaaa look for pine cones? There will be some fallen around here. Oh! We can also look for mushrooms!”

I keep saying no to everything he suggests and it doesn't look like he's going to run out of ideas to pass the time. In fact, he's very insistent that we do something. I guess at some point I'll have to say yes to something. “...” “...okay...”

“Hmm?! Okay? Okay to what?” His exaggerated surprise offends me but I don't blame him.

“To... I don't know, pine cones?”

“...You don't look very convinced.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“OKAY! On the hunt for pine cones then!” I startle a little at the sudden shout. He makes a pose pointing in a direction, as if he were leading an expedition.

He takes me through the forest looking for pine cones. We aren't finding many, especially me who's not paying any interest. He tries encouraging me to put more effort into it but I keep looking at my boots.

We passed near a shingle river. I find a pebble at my feet and bend down to pick it up and take a better look. It's like a bluish gray, it has some reddish lines in the shape of waves, it feels good to the touch.

I hear the soft tinkling of a bell and feel a shadow fall beside me. “You like pebbles?” Sun is crouched next to me with his arms full of pine cones.

“…” I nod.

We go down to the river and spend some time collecting pebbles with curious shapes or small details of colors, lines, spots, etc. He comes over to show me one every time he finds weird shapes.

“…”

*rin* This time he's hunched over resting his hands on his knees. “You look… a little down.”

“…”

“Hey... we can do something else if you're tired of the pebbles.”

“...” I drop the pebbles I was looking at on the ground.

“...” He turns his gaze from me to the sky. It hasn't gotten late enough to be getting dark, but it's been a while between the walks we've taken (dragging me from here to there), looking for pine cones and then pebbles in the river. He looks back at me. “Oh, I know! Can I take you to one last place? A better place than the ones I've shown you!”

“…” I got up from the ground and waited for him to start leading to follow him.

We enter the increasingly thick forest. The trees are taller and bigger, in fact, I start to see platforms and bridges lying between the trees, I even see small shanties in them.

“Wait here!” He takes a run and jumps onto one of the trees with bridges. He takes three steps running up the tree, with a jump he pushes himself off and climbs with agility until he reaches the platform and climbs on it. “Just a moment!” It can't be seen from here but I can faintly hear some squeaks. I have no idea of what he's doin-

*rush*

“........eh?”

A rope.

A rope has fallen. At the level of my head.

“.......”

What?

…

He said he knew a better place.

No. It can't be this.

“Is it at a good height?! Can you reach it?!” He says...

It can't be.

A better place.

He can't be referring to this.

A better place.

A better place. A better place. A better place. A better place.

“Can you put your foot in?!”

“..........” For some reason what he said throws me off. “WAT-?”

“Can you put your foot in the loop and hold on to the rope so I can pull you up!?”

“..............”

“You can't climb trees, can you?! ...or you can?"

… “...” Oh “....It's...It's too high!”

“Okay!” Squeaks are heard and the rope descends to the ground.

I put my foot into the rope as he told me and hold on to it. “O-okay...!”

“Are you ready!?”

“Yes!”

“Okay!”

He begins to pull up the rope (which doesn't tighten around my foot as it supports my weight) and helps me up to the platform. (That's what it was for, obviously, what else would he want? I'm such an...) “Come on!” He says cheerfully, as always, and takes me over the bridges. “You seem tense... Don't tell me you're afraid of heights!”

“S-something like that... it's nothing.” He tilts his head at that but he says nothing. I have an unpleasant sensation in my throat.

We arrived at a high place with a view of waterfalls, I can't see above the trees. We sat on one of the bridges, resting our arms on the rope that serves as a railing and letting our legs hang off the bridge. I've thought about taking out the sketchbook to draw... but I don't really feel like it right now, so I just quietly observe the landscape. It is a better place, yeah.

…

I feel watched. I turn to look at him ...Of course he was looking at me. I don't even know whether to say something or keep quiet. ...I decide... not to say anything and look to the front.

“You... aren't very talkative, huh.”

“…”

“Not that it's a bad thing! Many people who have come here weren't very talkative at first either.” More people...

“...” “I have… nothing to talk about.” I don't want to talk.

“...” “Well, I do.”

“…”

“If it's okay with you, of course.” He laughed. Although something tells me that he is going to talk anyway.

“…”

“...” “What brings you to the forest?”

“...” Really? “I got lost.”

“Yeah, I already know!” He says between laughs “But what made you get lost?”

“...” “There was a group of kids I didn't want to get close to and I decided to go into the woods to lose them.” He makes a 'hum' sound and looks at me expectantly waiting for me to continue “And... I ended up getting myself lost...”

“...” “Only that?”

“...” “Well, yeah.” What do you mean 'oNlY tHaT'?

“...Mmm...” He places his hand on the chin of the mask.

“...” “What?”

“Nothing!” “...” “You know? You're the first human to visit the forest in a loooong time. For several cycles now…”

“Cycles?”

“Mhm” He nods.

“...What are cycles?”

Sun points to the sky “The turns that the Moon makes in the sky!” He emphasizes by rotating his arm in the air. It's pointing right at the Moon that's visible in the sky.

“Oh...” He uses the lunar cycles to know what day he's in, makes sense. “...” “So no one has been here in a while.”

“That's what I said! Well no, but yes!”

“A-and so the humans who came are still here? Have they been here all this time?”

“Yeah...! Well, no!” He paused. “They're gone!”

“What do you mean they're-?” He didn't let me finish the question.

“They are gone! They 'left'!” It sounded like he had given this answer many times already.

“What do you mean they left-?”

“They 'left'!”

“...” “...You mean...they disappear-?”

“Nope!” “...” “Something like that!” “…” “Mmmore or less…” He hesitated between one answer and another.

It seemed worthless to ask about the missing people. “...okay.” “Can I ask you-?”

“You can ask me anything!” A hint of nervousness escaped his tone.

“...okay. What is this forest?”

“My home! And the home of many other animals.”

“...” “Alright, and... how many are you...? How many of you live here? I mean. You have taken me everywhere and we haven't seen anyone of your…” I make a pointing gesture, spinning my hand around in the air. He can't be human, it doesn't look like he is. “...” “Honestly, I don't know what you are.”

“...” “There's only me... And someone else!” He looks away, as if trying to hide something.

“Oh... and who's that someone?”

“Oh! N-no, don't worry! He’s… just a friend… But it’s not important that you meet him or anything!” He brushes it off making a gesture with his hand. “Uh-um- How about we talk about you!? huh? What things do you like? Earlier, since you said no to everything, I thought you didn't like ANYTHING!” He continued talking without letting me respond. “I didn't know what to do if I ran out of ideas. I started to worry! But at least you're not one of those who spend all day shouting and threatening with a weapon in hand, ahaha...” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Um-”

“Well, you ran away screaming, yes.” He began to gesticulate widely as he complained “Like everyone-! No, not like everyone, some don't run, but those who, apart from running and screaming, attack you...! I mean...!” Something tells me he wasn't going to shut up and I was already half listening. “First they throw rocks at my head, then they insult me and run away. And I have to run after them because I can't just leave a human running around alone! No! I can't! Not in this forest! Anything could happen to them! But they never let me warn them!” He sounded tired. “And when I get them to stop running away from me, they throw things at me again and yell before demanding me to tell them where are they and how to get out of here, and when I explain it, they yell at me even more and accuse me of lying!” He turns to look at me with his hands pointing to his chest. “What reason would I have to lie?!” I don't know if he hasn't noticed or if he's ignoring the deapan I responded with. “UGH! I don't know what to do with those! But anyhow... I'm so glad we found something to do in the end!

“eh?” I snap out of my thoughts. It seems that now he is directing the conversation to me.

“The pebbles!” He sits turning his body towards me, leaving one single leg hanging from the bridge and the other resting on it. He takes out of his pocket some of the pebbles that he had been collecting with me. “I don't know why I assumed you wouldn't want to look for rocks. Maybe because you didn't want to paint them before... You left them back in the river in the end tho, I thought you would keep some.”

“Ah... I don't know. I didn't think I could take them with me.”

“You can keep some of mine!”

“No, it's okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You suuuuure??” He insist.

“Yeees.”

He puts a pebble very close to my face “Suuuuuuuure?” Each 'u' sounding higher than the last.

“...” I push the pebble away from my face “Yeeeees.”

“mmmh... Okay! But I hope you don't regret it later when you don't have a cool rock like these and think 'Oh man, I could have a cool rock right now!'.” After a bad impression of me, he keeps the rocks in his pants. “So... Besides pebbles, what else do you like? Mm? I haven't been able to deduce much from today.”

“Don't know.”

“What do you mean you don't know!? Oh! Is it a secret?” He approaches and starts to whisper, putting his hands to the mask's mouth “I won't tell anyone, promise.”

“No. I don't know.” I looked to the side. “I can't think of anything... so suddenly.”

“ooow...” He slumps a little over the railing, looking sad.

“…” I hesitate whether to say something or not “...Drawing...”

“Mmm?!” He no longer seems sad.

“And listening to music, I guess.” “It's... all I do... most of the time.”

“Really!? Oh! I also like drawing! And music! But is that really all you do all day? Don't you do other kinds of things? Like reading! Or writting. Don't you go out for a walk or play with your friends?” I wrinkle my face at that last bit and he tilts his head in confusion.

“I don't go out.” “I have comics, but I rarely read.”

“Comics?”

“Um... They are stories but instead of narrating what happens there are drawings and only what the characters say is written.”

“...It's a book with drawings?”

“Yeah, but with a lot of drawings on each page, from start to finish.”

“WOAH.” He sounded perplexed. “That's drawing A LOT.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Ahh, I'd love to see what they look like.” He rested his arm on the railing to hold his head in his hand “Too bad I can't…”

“I didn't bring them anyway.”

“Do you normally carry them around?”

“No, it's just that I didn't bring them to the village with me, I left them at home.”

“...” “Oh!” It seems that something has clicked on him. “You are not from the village.”

“No, I'm from a more urban area. My family used to come to the village every year in the summer, but we stopped coming. Now it seems that we are trying to get back into the habit.” I sighed.

“Why did you stop coming?”

“...That's personal.”

“Oh... okay.” He let a minute of awkward silence pass. “Hey, I can bring some books that I have at home! I think you might be interes-!” He looks away from me to the sunset behind us, the sun is almost gone. “-ted...” I look at the sunset too and then at him with confusion. “...” “...oh...oh-OH, Oh-no!” He stands up abruptly causing the bridge to shake slightly. What could have he seen? “We have to move!” He extends a hand to help me up. “We have to start moving!”

I get up in a hurry on my own, ignoring his hand. “O-okay, to where?”

“Come, run!” Once again he grabs me by the arm and leads me over the bridges between the trees until we reach a tree hut. It's small and dark, it looks like a small shelter. He opens the door and enters “You'll spend the night here, stay inside, do not go out, try to hide well and don't open the windows or doors, okay? Here, there are some blankets. I'll come back later.”

“Wait wait wait! What? What do you mean you'll come back later? What's happening? Why do I have to hide-!?”

“Sssh-ssh-sh” He grabs me and covers my hand with his, his left hand resting on the back of my right hand. He begins to speak in a calmer tone, with a voice that I had not heard him use until now. “It's okay, nothing happens. I have to go, I'll come back, but I can't stay now. You hide, try to rest, I'll be back, I promise.”

“...” I take my hand away from his. “Okay.” “I'll stay, but don't take too long.” Please, I don't want to be here alone.

“Yes. I'll be back.” He affirmed one last time. I watch him run away and disappear among the trees and undergrowth. I enter the small shelter to inspect it.

*TAP TAP TAP* *PLOK* *TAP TAP FOOSSSH! *

…? A noise comes from behind me. I turn around and there's a pebble on the floor.

…

Okay.

I take out my phones flashlight to see better inside the house. There are what appear to be some trunks, small cabinets, and a trapdoor in the floor, It seems that there are corners and blind spots for the windows where the little moonlight that enters through the cracks cannot reach. It's freezing cold and I haven't brought my jacket. I leave the bag on the floor against the wall, I cover myself with the blanket and curl up in a ball in the most hidden corner I can find. I'm tired, I want to sleep, but I can't close my eyes.

…

—

It's been a few hours now.

…

I can't sleep, I simply can't.

…

It doesn't look like he's coming back.

*creek*

…?

*rin*

*tap tap, creek*

Sun?

“S-...” I pause before saying a word, I have the feeling I shouldn't speak. I remain silent and wait.

*tap, tap, tap, creeeeeek, tap*

*rin dirrin*

If it were Sun he would have already let me know it is him. That or he's playing a prank on me which isn't funny, but I'd better stay silent. From the shadow I look at the windows. I notice movement through the cracks, something has just passed through the wall next to me.

*dirriring dirring*

I cover myself more with the blanket, back against the wall, I stay as still as I can, I leave a gap between the blankets and the floor to see. A red glow sneaks through the cracks in the window and scans the room.

…

The glow is gone.

*tap, tap, rin, tap, dirring, tap, tap*

It's on the roof.

…

*tap, tap, tap...*

It moves again.

*rin *

…

It sounded on the other side of the wall.

…

…

“nghehe...”

It laughed. Why did it laugh? Whatever is on the other side of the wall just let out a laugh that made the hairs on the back of my neck and all over my back rise.

…

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no no.

I have to move. I have to get out of here. I can't stay here.

*creeek*

It came from the door. It's trying to get in.

*rin*

The trapdoor.

*rin dirring*

Where was the trapdoor?

*creek creeeek*

I crawl across the floor making the minimum noise, carefully feeling the floor, looking for the edge of the door.

*tap tap ring dirring*

…!

I found it. I open it carefully. It's too high. I'm at a very high altitude, I don't know if I'll be able to go down.

*rin, creeek...*

…

Fuck it. I slip through the gap quietly, closing it slowly, but that doesn't stop the door from creaking. I cling to the bark of the tree-

…

I left my bag. If it comes in and see it it'll know for sure that I have been there-

…

It doesn't matter now. I have to focus on getting down from the tree without killing myself. My fingers hurt and I can't put my foot down properly because of the soles of my boots. I feel like I'm going to slip at any moment. Somehow I make it to the ground. Still attached to the tree, I look up at the house. I don't see it-

…

A shadow appears from behind the tree. I press myself against the tree and hold my breath. It's looking for something. When he doesn't seem to look I move to a nearby tree, he moves to another tree, I move to the next, and the next, and the next. We continue like this until I start to get further and further away from him. When I think I've lost him I start running. I hide behind a tree to catch my breath.

…

I slowly peek out from behind the tree.

*rin*

…

It sounded above me.

…

I don't look up, I run.

“nnghehee...” He laughs.

He gives me a few seconds advantage before coming after me. The chase begins.

I run forward as much as I can, I hear his footsteps behind me but I don't look back, there's no time for that. I hear him laughing like a madman as he moves from left to right, from one tree to another, crawling on the ground, trying to confuse me, waiting for me to make the slightest mistake to catch me.

“Ah-” I trip. As soon as I fall to the ground I get up, ripping my stockings and scraping my knees, falling again, my nerves not letting me stand up.

“Nnhehehhehe...” Asshole. He has stopped running, he approaches by walking. I try to keep as much distance as my hands and legs allow me to move. I search desperately with my hand for something on the ground to throw. Finally my hand finds something.

I throw a rock at him “AGH!”

The rock passes by him, flying one or two meters away from him. He hasn't even moved, he didn't move a single muscle to avoid it, he just watches me still from where he is. I hear the nearby *pof* of the rock falling to the ground.

“...”

“...”

…

I get up and run. He grabs my leg and I fall to the ground again. He won't let me get up, every time I try he throws me to the ground. I struggle, I kick, but I don't break free from his grip. He never stops laughing, he is enjoying this. He drags me closer to him, no matter how much I twists, he doesn't let go. “ACKH-!...Hhhh-hh...-hh-h...” He grabs me by the neck, red pupils stared at me, I'm looking straight into his crescent moon mask (or waning, I don't know. Do you think I care right now?). He raises his free hand and his veins begin to glow a platinum color that extends to his fingertips. The hand approaches my face, I don't know what it's going to do to me, I'm scared, I don't want to look. I close my eyes, cover my face with my hands. I wait.

…

…

…?

Nothing's happening. It stopped. Why?

“Mun, nïe.” I hear Sun's voice. I open my hands a little to see what's going on. Indeed, it is Sun, several meters away from us... He looks exhausted. The one with the moon mask stares at him for a moment, until he decides to look at me again while bringing his glowing veiny hand closer. “¡Mun!” The Moonman looks at Sun again “Fehreh.” He seems to speak another language, I don't understand what he says.

“...” “Nïe” For the first time I hear him say something else besides laughing. Even though I can't understand him.

“Fïer pehgïer.” Sun responds.

“...” Moonman remains silent again.

“Bïelïe óubseh góuh...” Sun continues.

“Móu txehb móunsuvïe.” The Moon responds.

“Lïe bóu ¿Sóundïe mïesugïeb fehreh nïe txehtehrlïe?”

…

The air feels tense. Probably because of the hand grabbing my neck.

“¿Zkaóu fuóunbehb txehtóur tkaehnvïe nïe bóueh mehb zkaóu ïesreh rehuh óunsóurrehveh óun leh suóurreh?” Longest sentence I've heard him say so far.

“...” “Fïer óubseh góuh.” “...” “Vóuyehmóu óuntehrdehrmóu vóu óulleh” Sun takes a step forward “Nïe suóunóu fïer zkaóu ehtehkehr ehbu” Another step forward “Nïe sóunóumïeb fïer zkaóu txehtóurlóub... óubsïe” Another step “Óullïeb bïelïe óubsehn... fóurvuvïeb.”

“...” There's no response from the moon man.

“Behkehb tïemïe óub óubïe.”

“...”

…

The hand that grabbed my neck now grabs my shirt and yanks it. I grab his wrist as he pulls me to my feet and drags me to Sun, making me stumble. He throws me against him. Sun catches me before I fall over.

“Ska óubpkaóurhïe óub óun gehnïe.” The moon says something as he walks past. Sun puts a hand on his shoulder before letting him go, there's a pause between the two. The Moonman disappears into the trees. Wind and leaves are heard passing by.

…

He's gone. I feel dizzy. I fall down.

—

…

…

…

A faint light begins to seep through the cracks, illuminating enough to wake me up and make me open my eyes, I look around. I see my bag propped against the wall. I'm at the shelter where Sun left me.

…

My body aches, I have a hard time keeping my eyes open, it feels like I've been sleeping on the hard floor. No, wait, there are some blankets underneath me... It's still too hard to sleep well, either that or as I said, it shouldn't help me at all that everything hurts. After a while of staring at the ceiling I try to sit up. I emphasize trying. With every slight effort a pained moan escapes me.

“Oof...” Hurts.

*creek, tap tap tap tap*

Those wood creaks bring back bad memories from last night (which by the way, I'm alive, wow, I just realized), I can't help but cringe at every noise, I hear footsteps approaching, I try to move but the stinging pain prevents me from it.

*creek... *

The door opens.

Triangular shapes appear through the door followed by orange earth tones. “…Oh…!” “Early bird!” Thank god it's Sun and not the other one, or something worse “I didn't expect you up this early!” He says laughingly.

“ah?”

“How are you feeling?” He walks in. When he sets foot inside I lean back, towards the wall. “...” I don't really know why I did that. Sun stands at the door showing confusion with his usual head tilt. “...Arrr...re you okay, Fern?”

“...” I became tense suddenly. I really don't know still if I can trust him? He hasn't done anything to me yet but that doesn't mean that I can trust him. I don't know if he plans to do something with me like whatever that other one, the moon one, was going to do last night. “...ehh...hhh...h...” I can't get a word out, I'm afraid to ask.

“Mm?”

“...” I don't know what to say to him. My eyes go somewhere else.

…

He enters further into the house, ignoring that I keep my distance from him, leaves a bag he was carrying on the floor and begins to open the windows, letting in the little light of the dawn that is just beginning. He kneels on the floor in front of me with the bag. “Are you hungry?” He opens the bag and takes out an apple “Do you like apples?”

“...”

“No?”

“...”

“Um... I also brought berries... (It's what I had on hand coming here) There are... different types, you can choose” He brings the bag closer to me. I move further away. “uhhh...”

“...” I want to leave.

“You don't like them either...?”

“...” I don't want to eat. I want to leave.

“...”

“*snif... *”

“u-um...!”

“...*snif* *sob*...” I started crying out of nowhere.

“Ahhh...! D-do- don't cry! Ah-I-Um- Ca-can go find other things you might like-!”

I felt ashamed for crying and I put my hands to my face trying to wipe away the tears, but they wouldn't stop coming. “*hic, sniff, snif *” I looked away in an attempt to cover my face. I ended up looking at the floor, letting my hair act as a curtain.

“I can go in a moment!” Sun was already getting up.

“...w-want to leave...” I managed to get a murmur out.

“...W-what? Um...”

“...” *hic, hic *

“O-okay, um... If you aren't hungry... -we can do something else- uh- we can go look for rocks like yesterday in the river!”

“...” I don't want to do anything “...want to leave...”

“O-or we can do something else! Ah-bah-b-b-b- W-won't you like to go draw??! Somewhere, some landscape?! Wherever you want! We can draw together! If you prefer we can look for animals instead of landscapes!”

“...leave...want to...go... *hic, snif *”

“¡D-don't n- uh! ¡L-let's... um- let's not- uh!” He no longer knew how to order his words “H-hey, ¿Why don't we go to-?” He extends his hand towards my arm.

“I want to go home...”

He stops before touching me and removes his hand. “...” “...home?” There is a pause. He remains silent and unmoving. He finally speaks “Do you want…?” His tone became more serious.

“...”

“...to... go see the portal?” I look up slightly, I can't see through the tears and the fogged lenses of my glasses.

“...” I nod my head.

—

…

We didn't walk far until the red began to become visible. He brought me back to the portal. The same plain of red leaves and stone arch in the center of it all, as yesterday.

…

Sun has been quiet the entire time.

He advances towards the portal and stands facing it. He turns. “Come.” He extends his hand towards me. “You can pass through.”

“...”

I advance towards the portal. I stop before crossing. If it doesn't take me back home, what do I do? I don't want to stay.

A breeze begins to come out of the portal. The breeze turns to wind, the leaves rise, they pass through us. It's the same thing that happened yesterday when I went to cross. I turn to face Sun. Motionless, he looks back at me, the leaves pause in the air for a second as if time has stopped, the wind changes. From where the wind and leaves came now they come in, they push me towards the portal. I finally cross it.

…

Am I in the forest I know? I turn to look at Sun who stayed behind in the portal. “...Sun?” He's not there. I look around. He's not here. I've already crossed the portal, he must have left.

I notice a sudden draft pass by me. It's soft, like someone walking past you. I turn towards the forest, I have to start moving, I don't want to be here another minute.

...The air current that I noticed has lifted some leaves, they reach the trees, between them the wind does something strange, it forms a transparent silhouette. It looks like Sun, I can barely see him but I could swear it's him. The wind figure raises its hand and makes a gesture, it wants me to follow it. When I approach it turns around and walks into the forest, leaving a trail of leaves behind it. I follow the trail of the air current. Sometimes it stops to look at me, making sure I'm still following it. The red-leafed trees and the paintings disappear from view the farther we go. We crossed the forest until we arrived at the entrance of the town, near my house. There is no one on the street. If I walked into the house and pretended nothing had happened, officially no one would have noticed my absence.

I'm not one hundred percent sure if the wind figure that guided me is Sun or not, but I should at least thank him for bringing me back.

…

The air current has dissipated before I turn around. I look around, there's no one.

…

…

…

I enter the house, go up to my room and throw the bag on the floor. I go to the bathroom to wash. …I feel something strange in my hands but I couldn't say what. Doesn't matter. I change my clothes and get into bed, the tiredness of the previous night makes my body succumb immediately and I fall asleep instantly.

—

…

…

…

“ah...!” I wake up with my lungs begging for air. I need a moment to calm my breathing. I look at the clock without lifting my head from the pillow.

…

It is 12 midday. I rub my eyes and from my eyes I move to my face. I'm still tired. My body still aches. I stare at the ceiling.

…

My bag. I reach out to pick it up from the floor, making strange positions so as not to get out of bed.

I open it and search in the pockets. The bell. I put the bell to my ear. “...” I shake it.

*rin, diring diring*

“...”

I open it.

…

It's empty.

[sevenofboop]

Part 4 Reverse WereHeart AU:

She doesn't remember much of her life before. Hells, she's not even sure if the memories she does possess are real; they feel so distant from her, as if she were looking upon them from the outside. Her name was long lost to her.

The little she does remember is that of being trapped in the darkness and pain. Shadowy figures, sometimes drifting in and out of her cage as they try to break her. She snaps and snarls, but not once does she bend.

Someone during this time, though, had been kind and brought her scraps of food when they tried to starve her. During full moons, when she would revert, they’d keep her company and taught her how to braid her hair. She cannot recall their face or name, but she remembers purple hair, short horns, and the smell of night orchids.

How she came to be here now, she doesn’t know, and she’s not sure what to make of her travelling companion. She does not know much about the Githyanki people, but the little she has gleaned from texts she had found or overheard from hushed whispers amongst adventurers, Lae’zel is…not what she expected.

Words are hard for her, voice hoarse from lack of use. She hasn’t spoken to another soul in what has to be years. Time feels different as a wolf, feeling no need to keep track of the cycles gone by. She tells Lae’zel what she remembers and how she came to be, which isn’t much to be sure, but it’s all she has. Lae’zel listens quietly, nods, and doesn’t press for any more than she can give.

The second full moon they spend together, Lae’zel throws a bunch of clothes she has stolen from somewhere at her. She raises an eyebrow in question.

“Is this really necessary? You know I spend most of the time covered in fur and on four legs.”

Lae’zel’s usual scowl deepens, “Chk, I know you istiks are soft and weak, and I did not want to hear you complain that it is cold.”

“Oh? The big bad Githyanki worried about me?” She coos, enjoying teasing the other woman.

"Kaincha! I do no such thing; I merely wished to avoid hearing the insufferable whining to come; now cease this senseless chatter"

Shadowheart hums in amusement, she doesn’t bother to mention that even in this form she runs warmer than most humanoids. Shrugging on the clothes Lae’zel brought for her, she begins to think, it’s almost pleasant travelling with company.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Hope you enjoy this little bit from Shart’s perspective 🥲 I have no idea where I’m going with this in terms of plot. I just know I have thoughts and then have to vomit it out in this way 😅 hope it’s somewhat cohesive.

[http-paprika]

BLUE / simon riley

my very, very late submission for @glitterypirateduck simon "ghost" riley challenge. this was heavily inspired by the new billie eilish song of the same title because I thought it fit him so well. i used the prompts "face touching", "the heat goes out and it's freezing", and "a confession is made"

simon ghost riley x female reader / 1106 words / contains angst, alcohol, and smoking

WITH every patron that hurried into the bar, cold and snow blew in with them—leaving those even in the darkest corners of the bar chilled and draining down more liquor. The drink spilled through her veins, warm and potent as she waited another hour, shrunk away in the shadows with her cost pulled tight. Simon wasn't coming, she knew better than to keep waiting for him. 

 Finishing her glass of whiskey, she lets it sting her throat the same way the tears in her eyes did. With remorse, she sets the glass down and rises from her chair. Through the crowded bar of happy couples and friends, someone's celebrating a birthday, another girl is sobbing in the corner with her friends trying their best to comfort her. The whole room pulses with life, feelings, love, and hate and she can't seem to find herself amongst the crush of emotions. Dull, apathetic, and removed as she slinks out of the door and into the blue moon night. 

 Winter still holds a fierce grip over Manchester, spilling white flurries in the air as she walks down the quiet streets with a cigarette to warm her from the cold. If he were there, they'd be sharing the smoke and she'd be warmed by the blushed haze that always befell her when their hands brushed exchanging the cigarette. 

 Her hand fumbles with her phone, the bright, blue light warning her of how late it was. But even with the early shift she had in the morning, she loiters along her route imagining he’ll be waiting by her flat like Simon would sometimes do. Giving her the delusion that he cared enough to come looking for her, even if he couldn't be bothered to grab drinks with her. 

 Despite all logic telling her not to bother with a call, she finds the number that she's left a hundred voicemails for. Sounding desperate and pathetic with every call as she tries to convince him into calling her back. 

 “Hi, Simon. It's me… again. I'm just calling to check in, I haven't heard from you in a week and I just want to make sure you're alright. Okay, I'm going to go, I'm at my flat. Call me, please.” The sound of the voicemail being replayed causes her to cringe, maybe he'd never hear it like he never hears the rest. Maybe he's got a new number, that was the type of thing someone as shifty as Simon would do. But she can't find reason in his sudden absence, no foreseen notice of a deployment or mission. No text to tell her he'd be unavailable. Nothing. 

 When she rounds the gate into her apartment complex, she can see in the low light of the second-floor walk, the lone figure waiting in front of her door even though he had the keys. Burly hands shoved into the worn pockets of his jacket with head tilted down as she climbed the stairs to join him. 

 She didn't need to see Simon’s face to know that he was thinking. Always thinking about the past he refused to tell her about. One that she could only dream up, trying to picture what had happened to turn him into the man he was. The man who she desperately tried to get over, but couldn't move on from. 

“I waited for you. It's the third Wednesday of the month, or did you just forget?” She asks, stubbing out the cigarette on the melt railing. The frame creaks as her fist tightens around it in frustration. “Simon?” 

 “Was busy with work, forgot to call.” He shrugs, pushing his hood back and shaking out his dark blond curls. A rough, wartorn face that she'd memorized like the back of her hand. It was so enticing to her, mesmerizing with his pale lashes and dark haunted eyes. The type of man that kept her safe at the bar and kept her up at night in stress. 

 “You're always busy.” She holds back a scoff, knowing arguing never got anywhere with Simon. He'd go silent with every accusation she'd throw, leaving her intimidated and guilty for yelling. Even if she knew he deserved it. 

 “It can't be helped. Times are tough.” Simon responds, his eyes trailing over her as she moves to unlock the flat. Fumbling with the lock like she did with the phone until his hand reached out and steadied her grasp. He leads her into the apartment like it was his own, with an empty place on the coat rack for his jacket, and a spot next to all of her shoes for his boots. An indent left throughout her home for whenever he'd find it in him to return.

 “Would you like a drink?” She asks, still feeling the need to play hostess as if he were a stranger visiting for the first time. At the edge of her seat waiting expectantly for a response and reaction. 

 “Sure.” He shrugs, pulling off the cloth mask as she shuffles into the small kitchen. Tiny enough that when he joins her there's tension as she tries not to bump into him. Pretending like she wasn't up the night before craving the warmth he gave, the firm touch of his hands, when her space heater died. 

 “I am sorry, love. I'll be there next time, I promise.” Simon apologizes, watching as avoids his presence like the plague. She chewed the inside of her cheek, knowing that she'd accept this apology like she'd done before. Knowing full well he never changed, and she’d never ask him to. 

 He reached out, sensing her indifference, and cupped her cheek in his calloused hands. That touch always turned her into mush, clay for him to mold to his will and whims. She knew it was pathetic how easily she swayed for him, knew that her friends always criticized her for being so weak-willed. But how could she possibly say no to him when he always came back, even if it was days late? Wasn’t she better off with him than trying to find someone else to love, wasn’t the heartache worth it? 

“You could do so much better than me, sweet girl. Sometimes I wish you would.” Simon confesses, his voice low and full of regrets. He turns his head down towards her, wrapping her close in his arms, taking the glass of water out of her hand, and setting it down. 

Her mouth opens to speak, but no words form when she realizes she’s just as guilty as him. She’d never change, he’d never change. Together, they’d stay unmoving, frozen in the longest, blue winter.

[imagineteamfreewill]

From the Dead - Five

Pairing: Soldier!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: Hearing loss, pregnancy, nervousness, nausea, mentions of PTSD, and fluff

Summary: Dean Winchester died as a war hero during his third tour overseas. He left Y/N behind, and she decides that she needs a change. She leaves Lawrence to work at Camp New Moon, where a mysterious visitor shows up almost five years after Dean first left for his tour.

A/N: This is the final part of the “From the Dead” series. As always, thank you for supporting me whether I’m writing Supernatural or Marvel, both here and on other websites. I hope you enjoy!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

From the Dead Series Masterlist

The months practically fly by after Dean receives his hearing aid. As part of his therapy, he creates a list of things he wants to do now that he’s back in the States, some of which you’ve never done together. One by one, you check things off the list. You spend sunsets—and a few sunrises—snuggled up on the beach by the lake, and when the fall hits, you and Dean are able to get away for a few weekends for hikes in a nearby state park. It’s on those nights at the lake and in the cabins you rent at the parks that Dean talks to you more about his tour. He can’t tell you all the details, especially since Sam is still advising you on whether or not to sue for everything you’d been put through, but he talks to you about his life in the village. Sometimes you lay together in bed as he talks, and other times you sit facing him so you can read his expressions. Sometimes he cries. You do too. It’s cathartic for both of you.

When winter descends on the South, you take him to Atlanta for some of the Christmas festivities. You go to a concert, go on a fancy date at an even fancier restaurant, and walk hand in hand while you look at Christmas lights. His family drives down for the holidays, and you put them up in a few of the empty staff cabins. Mary tells you one morning while you’re watching the sun rise over the lake that she understands why you’d want to stay at New Moon. It’s one of the best Christmas gifts you get.

Dean surprises you with trips to the zoo, aquarium, and museums. He takes you shopping, compliments you with every new thing you tried on, and he carries your bags. He cooks you elaborate meals and brings you picnic lunches. You’re pretty sure that he and Meg text because he always seems to show up for lunch on the days where you need his company the most.

Life is sublime, even on the rough nights when you sleep very little. Dean’s nightmares wake you up on occasion, but you don’t mind. He shows you his love in a thousand little ways, and lying with him and comforting him is one of the few ways that you do the same. You both lay on your sides, facing each other, and you murmur reassurances in the dim light from the bedside lamp. You’ve gotten used to sleeping with it on, especially now since you found out that the darkness is something that worsens his PTSD.

Some nights, you stay up late worrying about the girls. Others you spend sitting up with them or talking with them when they need support, or intervention. Oftentimes, on those nights, you walk back to your cottage in the dark, following the path with just an old plastic flashlight to guide you. Your phone is usually dead and you’re always bone-tired, but without fail, you open the door to find Dean waiting up for you on the couch. He has the TV playing low in the background, and if you haven’t eaten dinner, he has a plate of food ready to be reheated for you. He listens when he can, too. You tell him whatever isn’t confidential, and he listens in silence with a hand on your leg as you curl up to him on the couch, or he holds you close as you lay together in bed, just like when you listen to him talk about his time overseas.

It’s on one of these nights in early March when you’re curled up together, sometime just past midnight, that you realize you’ve been home late almost every day this week and that Dean had been alone almost all day, every day. Your thoughts roam back to the first dinner you’d had with his family since his return. He’d thrived in the living room bustling with people he loved, and he’d lit up any time he’d interacted with his niece and nephew. You haven’t seen that exact look on his face since.

“Dean?” you murmur. He doesn’t answer right away, but he keeps stroking your hair, so you carefully turn your head on his thigh to look up at him. He took his hearing aid out an hour ago, which meant he probably just hasn’t heard you.

“You need something, sweetheart?” he asks, looking down at you.

“Do you… Do you still want kids? We haven’t talked about it since you got back, but before your deployment…”

He hums thoughtfully and sits up a little more on the sofa. You sit up when he moves, pulling your legs in and propping yourself up with one arm on the top of the back cushions. He keeps looking at the TV, but you can tell that he really isn’t watching it. The show is something pedantic—a black-and-white sitcom from the 60s that only comes on during late-night television. It’s one of a few that are on rotation during your late night talks, and you know enough from the subtitles that you’ve seen this episode at least three times.

“Did you hear me?” you ask, reaching out to gently touch his arm with your fingertips.

Dean nods. His eyes still stay focused forward. “I heard you. I’m just… thinking.” He turns to look at you after a second. The furrow between his eyebrows is pronounced, and his lips purse ever so slightly as he searches your face. “Why? Are you—?” He glances down at your stomach, just for a split second.

Quickly, you shake your head and scoot closer on the couch so that your calf is pressed up against the side of his thigh. You reach out and grab both of his hands in yours. He turns slightly more towards you, and his thumb drifts over your knuckles as you answer,

“No. No, I’m not pregnant. I just…” You trail off and look down at your joined hands, trying to put thoughts to your words. Finally, you sigh and look back up at him, squeezing his hands. “When we were at your parents’ house, with Sam and Jess and their kids, you seemed really happy.”

“Those little guys are awesome,” Dean replies, chuckling lightly. The worried crinkle between his eyebrows relaxes at the memory. “I had no idea how much I’d really missed them until we got there. The videos you’d shown me on your phone weren’t nearly as good as the real thing.”

“It wasn’t just that. It was the way you cuddled and played with Jacob, and the way you held Ella and talked to her. You love them.”

“Of course I love them, Y/N, they’re my niece and nephew.”

His voice is patient as he gives you the reminder, and though you know that he isn’t trying to make you feel bad, you still find yourself searching for the right words to get your point across. You’re exhausted, and your thoughts are already scattered.

Maybe I shouldn’t have even brought it up, you think.

Nonetheless, you nod and squeeze his hands again. “I know. I just… It reminded me of all those conversations we had before you left, you know? And I see the way you look at babies and little kids whenever we’re in town. Anyone could tell that you want a kid of your own.” You pause and shake your head a little. “I don’t know, it’s late. Maybe I’m just thinking too much. If it’s gonna happen, it’ll happen, right? I mean, if that’s what you want.”

Releasing him, you rub your face with one hand and stand from the couch. He looks up at you, watching in silence as you gather your dinner dishes, along with the mug he’d been drinking from when you got home. Your stomach twists as you move, and though you hope he’ll speak up and put you out of your misery by giving you some kind of response, Dean says nothing.

“I should shower,” you tell him. The lights in most of the cottage living area are off already, and the light from the TV casts strange shadows over him and the couch. It’s enough light for you to see Dean already looking away from you, staring at the long wooden coffee table you’d bought from a thrift store shortly after starting at the camp.

As you pass by, however, he scoots forward on the couch and reaches out. His arm blocks your path and his hands rest on your opposite hip, holding you in place. Your heart skips a beat.

“I do want kids,” Dean admits, quieter than before. He holds your gaze. Though the room is dark, the hesitance in his expression is clear.

Has he been thinking about this too?

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, dishes still in hand as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, so you set the dishes on the side table to his right and take matters into your own hands.

“Yeah?”

Dean’s shoulders slump and he nods. “Yeah. I didn’t want to bring it up. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What for? Why didn’t you want to bring it up?”

Carefully, you lower yourself to sit on his thigh with your back resting against the arm of the couch. You drape your legs over his lap. Dean reaches his arm behind you and holds your hip to help you keep your balance on his legs, and almost immediately his thumb is rubbing small arcs on your side, back and forth at a steady tempo. His other hand rests on your thighs. It’s warm over your legs, and you can feel his body heat even more where your shirt has come untucked, revealing the bare skin on your side where his thumb has found purchase. He’s almost too warm to be this close to him, but you can’t bear to complain, not after so many painful years apart. You rest one arm over his shoulders, and with the other you cup his cheek, turning his face so you can look at him properly.

“I was nervous that you’d changed your mind,” he admits. The low sound of the TV almost drowns him out, so much so that if you were any farther away, you’d be straining to hear him. “It’s been so long since we talked about it, and I wasn’t sure if that was still what you wanted.”

His next words go unspoken: with me. Dean has never expressed it outright, but you know that he still sometimes feels insecure about wearing his hearing aid and his struggle with PTSD from everything that happened overseas. You’ve joined him for several video sessions with his therapist, and you know that they’re working on strategies to deal with both of those things. You try not to interfere or give your opinions on his recovery—he needs a wife and a partner, not a second therapist—but you support him in every way you can without overstepping. You never want him to feel alone because of what he’s been through.

You lean in to kiss him on the cheek opposite your hand, and you smile gently as you say, “I love you, Dean. It’s still what I want, but even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t change things between us, at least not on my end. You’re still my main man, no matter what. Kids have never been the endgame. It’s always just been you.”

The lines on Dean’s face relax, smoothing out to reveal the faintest smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. They’re just starting to reappear now that the winter is fading and he can comfortably spend more time outside. Your stomach untwists as he smiles back at you. He shifts the hand on your hip and squeezes it just a little.

“I love you too, Y/N. No matter what.”

Dean kisses you on the lips, and it’s long, slow, and sweet. He’s warm against you. You’re bone-tired, but you close your eyes and kiss back, soaking up his warmth and the feel of being in his arms after a long day at work. It’s heavenly. You never would have predicted this moment a year ago. If someone had told you that Dean wasn’t dead and that he’d find you at New Moon, and that you’d be having a conversation at one in the morning about having kids, you would’ve thought they were crazy. Now, however, you’re just grateful.

After a few moments, Dean eases his arm under your legs instead of resting it over them, then stands. He carries you to the bedroom and you relax in his arms, keeping your eyes closed for the short walk. When he sets you down on the edge of the bed, you open your eyes to look up at him. You brace your hands on the mattress behind you to keep from toppling backwards as the memory foam dips under your weight.

“I don’t want to stress about this,” you tell him. “I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t help anything. If it happens, it happens.”

He nods in agreement, then yawns. You chuckle and sit up a little more so you can stand without fighting against the mattress. Dean always complains that it’s too soft, but you like the way you can sink into it after a long day. 

“Get to bed, soldier,” you order, patting his arm. “You’ve got work in the morning.”

A month ago, Dean had decided he was ready to get back to work. You’d offered to put him on the payroll at camp as a maintenance worker or groundsperson, but he’d opted for an online position, at least for the time being. It’s a dull job compared to his work with the military. Secretly, you’re thankful that he’s chosen a safe route and that he’s feeling well enough to get back to work, but you also worry a little. For as long as you’ve known him, Dean’s been a hands-on type of person. He likes to build and fix and create. His therapy appointments are virtual too, which means that he spends most of the day cooped up in the cottage, sitting at the kitchen table or on the couch in front of a laptop. Not only is it not the healthiest thing for him physically, you know that he pushes himself to work harder than anybody should, simply because the job seems so much easier than what he used to do. Plus, being that he’s home most of the day, he’s taken on most of the cottage upkeep, cooking, and shopping so that you can spend as much time together as possible whenever you are home. You don’t mind that as much, but it does make you feel a little guilty.

“I’ll wait for you to be out of the shower,” he replies, but you shake your head.

“It’s okay. You’ve waited up long enough for me, De. You need to sleep—you’ve been burning the candle at both ends just so you can see me in the morning and at night, and I’m starting to get worried. You were falling asleep during your meeting the other day when I came home for lunch, remember?”

“I’m fine,” he insists.

Sighing, you wrap your arms around his waist, reaching up until your hands press against the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades. Your cheek presses up against his chest and you close your eyes again. He returns your embrace, and after several long moments, you feel his body relax against yours. 

I could go to sleep right here, you think with a tiny smile.

“Come on,” you say as you finally pull away, then pat him on the chest with one hand. “Go lay down. I’ll be there in a minute, okay? Get the bed warm for me.”

He nods in agreement, and you step away. You hurry to get your pajamas from the dresser before heading into the bathroom. Dean had changed long before you’d gotten home, as he always did on late nights like these. You need to shower, but you know Dean would force himself to stay up until you’re ready to go to bed too, no matter how much you push him and try to coerce him to take care of himself first. You’re exhausted, too, and the thought of having to shower before you can crash isn’t appealing.

So, you forgo your normal shower and stick with simply washing your face and brushing your teeth after changing into the pajamas. You can shower in the morning, even though it means you’ll need to change the bedding sooner than usual. Though it isn’t quite as hot as it normally is this time of year, the humidity makes everything sticky, and you’ve spent most of the day outside. A thin layer of sweat coats your skin, making even your pajamas feel gross.

When you turn off the light and step out of the bathroom, Dean looks up from the book he’s grabbed from his nightstand. It’s a novel, if you remember correctly, but you’re not sure what about. The cover picture has a cactus on it. It’s probably another western—he’s been catching up on some of his favorite authors since Sam convinced him to get a library card in December.

“You didn’t shower,” he notes, clearing his throat and sitting himself up further against the headboard. He doesn’t fool you, however. You know that he’s been nodding off instead of actually reading the library book. He’s been on the same page the past three nights.

“I’ll shower in the morning,” you reply. You throw your clothes in the hamper against the wall. “I need to change the sheets anyway, so it’s not a big deal.”

Dean hums and sets his book back in its place, then reaches over to pull the covers open for you. You climb into bed and wait until he’s dimmed the lamp beside his nightstand to cuddle up against him. The room grows darker once he does, and your eyes take a second to adjust, but you can still hear Dean’s dog tags clink as he shifts to get into a comfortable position with you at his side. You slip one arm over him, resting your hand on his chest as you close your eyes. To no surprise, it doesn’t take you long to fall asleep. 

The next morning, Dean’s asleep when you wake up, which is a rarity. Despite the fact that you’re somehow still exhausted, you know that you need to get up before he does. If you doze until he’s awake too, he’ll want to get up and make you breakfast while you shower, meaning that he won’t get the rest he needs. His PTSD symptoms start rearing their ugly heads whenever he’s overtired, and you don’t want that for him.

Showering without waking Dean would be tricky, but after a few moments of lying in the dark, you find a solution. There’s a small bathroom attached to your personal office in the main camp building, and though you haven’t used it in a while, you know that it’s clean and that it still has your normal soap and shampoo. Before Dean, you spent most of your late nights sleeping on the futon in the office, then showering and dressing in the bathroom, rather than trekking all the way back to your cottage. You hadn’t had a reason to go all the way home back then, but now you do. The shower hasn’t been used in almost a year. This morning, however, it will come in handy.

As silently as possible, you roll out of bed and gather up the few toiletries you’ll need that aren’t already in the office bathroom. You pull on a pair of sweatpants over your pajamas, plus the faded Stanford hoodie you’d gotten in support of Sam shortly after marrying Dean. You grab a bag for the toiletries and a set of work clothes to change into after you shower, then shove your feet into a pair of sandals and slip out of the cottage to head towards the main cluster of buildings.

The sun is barely up. It casts an ethereal glow over the grassy field that separates your cottage from the rest of the camp. Dew dampens the path, and it makes wildflowers and the tips of grass blades glitter in the lingering sunrise. In the trees, birds sing and coo. The soft tap of your feet on the stones is the only other sound.

You pause to breathe in deeply, then exhale. Mornings at New Moon are special to you, especially after a long, stressful night. They remind you of why you stayed—every girl needs the peace and calm that the morning brings. They deserve it. You’ve certainly needed it many times yourself.

“You’re up early.”

You turn, already speaking as you meet Meg’s steady gaze. “I needed to shower, but I didn’t want to wake Dean. He’s been staying up late for me every night.”

She mutters something in acknowledgement, then tucks her phone in her jacket pocket as you close the distance to join her outside the only empty cabin, which she’s been checking for trespassers. It’s on the outskirts of the camp, and the four girls that had occupied it for most of last year transitioned to a more traditional foster home only last month. From what you’ve heard from their social worker, they’re on the path to reunification with their family.

Now that you’re closer, Meg’s giving you a strange, almost curious look, and you frown when she lifts her chin. Her eyes glitter with a secret. 

“I’m a little afraid to ask,” you say, “but do you know something I don’t?”

She chuckles and crosses her arms in front of her. Her lips press together in a smug smile. “How are you feeling?” she asks.

Unsure of what she means, you start walking towards the office. Meg falls into step beside you, just as you knew she would. 

“Fine, I suppose,” you slowly reply. You’re careful to give vague answers, just in case she’s looking to start a tiff just for her own amusement. “Why?”

She shrugs. “Just wondering.”

A minute of silence passes as you walk together, and the path changes from stone to gravel. It crunches beneath your feet, and all around you, life begins to stir in the cabins as the girls wake and get ready for the day. They’ll be coming outside with their counselors and gathering outside the dining hall within an hour, which means time is running out if you want to shower and have time to mentally prepare for the day.

Meg holds the office door for you and you mutter your thanks, then head down the hall to your personal office. You’re just reaching the door when she calls your name from the lobby.

Turning, you raise your eyebrows expectantly. She stands near the receptionist desk, her hands at her sides, and for a second, a genuine smile flashes across her face. It’s quickly replaced with her usual nonchalant look, however, so quickly that you aren’t entirely sure that you’d seen it. You must be more tired than you’d thought.

“You should take a test,” Meg says.

You frown at her, confused, and set your bag of clothes and toiletries at your feet, against the wall. “A test?”

She nods, widening her eyes as she repeats, “A test, Y/N. You know, the tests you keep in the first aid closet? For those rare, special emergencies?”

For a moment, you just stare at her. There are very few emergencies that you handle at the camp. True, due to the nature of your job, you’re trained in a litany of thing, ranging from first aid and de-escalation to basic animal control and building maintenance, all of which is in addition to your psychology degrees and training, but the rest of the camp staff is so well-trained that rarely do situations ever become actual emergencies that you need to handle.

If you’re handling a first aid emergency, however, you do basic triage before an ambulance can arrive. You keep most of the supplies in your office, both in a cabinet and in a bag, but there are also small first aid kits in all the cabins, as well as in every building and down by the lake.

You shake your head, a little baffled by Meg’s strange behavior and comments. Neither one of you needs any kind of first aid right now, at least not that you’re aware of. Turning, you reach for the doorknob on your office door, but you stop as soon as your fingers graze the metal. It’s as if lightning has struck you, and you immediately straighten, dropping your hand back down to your side as you whirl to face her again.

“What?” you exclaim, shocked at her brazen assumption. “Are you serious?”

She shrugs and leans against the wall opposite the desk, her arms once again crossed. Her stare, as always, is unrelenting, but suddenly it makes your skin itch with anticipation. Does she know something about you that you don’t? You pride yourself on being self-aware, but is it possible that you’ve missed something?

“You’ve been nauseous on and off for almost two weeks now, and you’ve been moody. More than some of the girls, actually,” she huffs.

You narrow your eyes and cross your arms, almost a mirror image of her. “Really? Moody? That’s your argument for this, Meg?”

“Don’t hurry to prove me right,” she teases, and you quickly drop your arms again, heat rising in your cheeks. “You’ve been constantly complaining of being too hot and then too cold all week, too. Didn’t you say that was one of the things your mother-in-law complained about when she was pregnant with Dean?”

It was, and a strange feeling rises inside of you now that you remember the conversation you’d had with Meg about it. How she remembered such a detail from a random discussion you’d had almost months ago is beyond you, but it doesn’t matter. She’s put the thought in your head, and with it comes another reminder—your period hadn’t come last month, and you’ve been due for almost a week now. If it was coming, it would have been here already.

You inhale shakily and give her a terse nod.

“Right,” you say. You smooth your hands over your thighs, trying not to seem so blown away by her hypothesis. “Okay. Okay. I’m—” Shaking your head, you close your eyes and try to focus on the mental to-do list you’ve made for yourself. Then, after a second, you grab your bag from the floor. “I have to shower.”

Meg nods. “Shower,” she repeats. 

“I’ll see you later.”

She nods again, then turns on her heel and walks out of the building, leaving you standing in the hallway. You stay still for a second, listening to the front door open and close. Outside, Meg shouts at someone for standing on a bench, but the sound of her voice fades as she gets farther away from the building. Finally, you turn and open the door to your office, then quickly close it behind you.

You close your eyes and press one hand to your stomach, over the sweatshirt. It’s bulky over your pajamas. Logically, you know that if you are pregnant, the baby would still be too small to show, but it feels wrong not to feel for a baby bump now that it’s been suggested.

Not daring to get your hopes up just yet, you let your hand fall as you march to the locked metal cabinet in the corner of your office. It’s mounted to the wall and reaches almost to the ceiling, and the pregnancy tests are at the back of the top shelf. You don’t use them often, considering that New Moon is only for girls, but you keep them on hand just in case you need them for a new arrival. You’ll be lucky if the test is still good, considering you haven’t had to use one in so long.

You dump the bag from your cottage on the desk, then fumble with your keys until you find the right one. The bag falls over and knocks a pen off the desk, but you ignore it as you unlock the cabinet, pull over your rolling desk chair, and carefully climb up on it to grab one of the tests. After checking the expiration date, you tuck the flimsy cardboard box under your arm and head to the bathroom, not even bothering to close the cabinet or right the bag that’s tipped over and dumped onto your workspace. All thoughts of showering and getting ready for the day are gone. They’ve been replaced with a nervous energy that buzzes beneath your skin, making your fingers feel weak as you open the box.

The lock on the bathroom door is sturdy enough to help you feel a little bit more secure as you take the test, all the while trying to take deep breaths. Your heart feels like it’s beating too fast, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re nervous or excited. Maybe you’re both.

Calm down, Y/N! Freaking out isn’t going to help anybody!

You wash your hands and read the back of the box again, checking the wait time printed in tiny black letters. The test sits precariously on the countertop, in between the sink and the edge of the counter closest to the toilet, and you give it a wary glance before unlocking the bathroom door and going to sit in your office while you wait. After setting the timer on your phone, you end up pacing in front of your desk instead, from the wall to the futon and back again. 

Finally, the timer goes off. You flinch at the loud ringing, then hurry to silence it. Your hands fumble with your phone and you stay tense when the office falls quiet again. Silently, you slip it back into your pocket and go back into the bathroom. When you reach the sink, you brace your hands against the front of the bowl, on the thinnest part of the counter. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a long few seconds, pointedly not looking down at the test that’s resting only a few inches from your hands. Inside your chest, your heart pounds even harder than before and your hands shake. Everything feels so unsteady, from your head to your feet, and for a second, you worry that you might pass out. Closing your eyes, you try to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself and to slow your racing pulse.

You’re reaching for the test on the counter when there’s a knock at your office door.

“Y/N? You in there?”

“Yes!” you yelp, almost too loudly. Your hand, outstretched and only an inch from the test, knocks it sideways, sending it clattering to the floor, along with a tube of toothpaste.

Dean calls for you again and you frantically scramble to right the bathroom. You practically throw the test onto the counter. It slides into the sink, and you’re pulling the bathroom door shut behind you just as Dean pushes the office door open from the hallway. He meets your eyes and you force a smile that you hope seems normal. 

“You left before I was up,” he says. He’s dressed already, in jeans and the green jacket you’d got him for his birthday, and his hair looks damp from the shower. 

Accepting a kiss on the lips, you hum a little and let go of the door handle to wrap your arms around his waist. Can he feel your heart beating too hard inside of your chest? What about your hands trembling against his back?

“I needed to shower and I didn’t want to wake you up. I have a shower here that I used to use when I was by myself.” You tilt your head back slightly, towards the door behind you.

Dean frowns. “You could’ve showered at home.” He looks down at you, and not only does his frown deepen, but the furrow between his eyebrows appears again. His worry lines are out in full force. “What’s wrong?”

Your stomach drops. Are you supposed to tell him? What if the test turns out negative? What if—?

“Sweetheart,” Dean soothes, pulling away so there’s space between the two of you. He takes your shaking hands in his and searches your face for an answer to his concerns. “What’s on your mind? I can see all the gears turning in there.”

The tips of his fingers touch your temple. You swallow thickly and look away. A line of dust lays gray on the hardwood where your old rug used to be. You moved it just last week to clean, but apparently, you’d missed it.

“Did I do something?”

Frantic, you shake your head and find his eyes. “What? No! No, of course not.”

“Then what is it?” Dean steps closer, crowding close in a tentative way that allows you enough time to move away, if you want. You don’t, and you let your eyes fall closed as you breathe in his scent and soak in his warmth. Your hands move to clutch the sides of his shirt, pulling him infinitely closer until your front is pressed against his again. Then, for the first time all morning, you relax. Your shoulders slump and you rest your forehead against him.

“I think…” you finally say after a minute. You take a breath, willing the words out on your next exhale. “I think I might be pregnant.”

There’s silence in the moments that follow, and though you know he’s probably just processing the news, it kills you. You stay frozen in place, unable to move as you wait for Dean to speak. 

Finally, you release his shirt and step back, just enough that you can see his face without tilting your head at too uncomfortable of an angle. He’s staring at the closed bathroom door behind you, with both eyebrows raised and with long creases along his forehead. His whole body is tense and the longer he stares at the door, the deeper the furrow between his brows becomes.

“Dean?” you prompt. “Say something, please.”

“You think? Or you know?” His voice is hoarse and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, then looks back down at you. 

“I don’t know. I took a test. I was just about to look at it when you knocked.”

“Oh.” His eyes flick up again, over your shoulder at the door, then down to your face. The second hand on the wall clock ticks as you stand near each other, Dean processing the news and you holding your breath as you wait for a more concrete response from him. The ticking feels louder than it did before. Has it always been that loud?

His fingers against your cheek make you look away from where you’ve been watching the black plastic line clunk around the circumference of the clock face.

“What do you want it to say?” Dean asks.

You inhale shakily and search his eyes, hoping for an answer to the question. “What do you want?” you ask in return.

Dean shakes his head, then runs his hand over your shoulder and down your arm until he can lace his fingers with yours. You glance down at your joined hands, unsure of why he’s not answering. He’d told you only just last night that he wanted kids. His hesitation makes you wonder if something’s changed in only just a few hours.

“It’s not up to me. It’s your body, Y/N.”

The words tumble out before you can even formulate the thought. “I just wasn’t expecting this so soon. I thought we’d have more time with just the two of us. What if this changes everything? What if it’s not everything we thought it would be?”

“We’ll still have time together,” he tells you, gently squeezing your hand. “It just might be less than we’d anticipated.”

“Would it even be a good thing if I was pregnant now? I know you said last night that it’s what you wanted, but we also said—”

“We said that if it happens, it happens,” Dean interrupts. “And if it’s happening now, then that’s a good thing. If it happens later, that’s also a good thing.”

You nod and take another deep breath. The butterflies in your stomach are out in full force. You have to close your eyes as you take breaths, trying to stave off the sudden wave of nausea that accompanies your worries. Dean’s hands in yours keeps you grounded as you breathe through your nose.

When you’re finally feeling more settled, you open your eyes and silently glance behind you at the bathroom door.

“You want me to wait out here?” Dean asks.

Swallowing thickly, you shake your head. Tears burn in your eyes, and you wipe them away with one hand, embarrassed by your reaction. “Why am I so scared? We just said that this is supposed to be a good thing.”

Dean squeezes your hand again. “This is a big thing, Y/N. It’s okay to be scared. I can be brave for both of us, okay?” He smiles a little, his lips pressed together, and you nod in response, inhaling deeply through your nose.

You feel stuck in place. Part of you wants to go look at the test, but another part of you is rooted to the floor, keeping you in this moment. The results of the test could turn your life upside down for the second time in a year, and you aren’t sure if you’re ready for that. What if you aren’t a good parent? What if you aren’t able to do your job while you’re pregnant? What would you do instead?

“Hey.”

You blink, then meet Dean’s eyes again. Another tear rolls down your cheek and you sniffle, wiping it away with the back of your free hand. His smile has disappeared, and now he watches you with a concerned frown that makes his lips turn downward at the corners and makes the wrinkle between his eyebrows reappear.

“There’s nothing to be scared of, sweetheart. We’re in this together, and I’m with you no matter what. Do you want me to look first?” he asks.

After a few seconds, you nod. You don’t know what to say, but you know it won’t matter to Dean whether you speak or not. He’ll do and be whatever you need in this moment, just like he always does.

He releases your hand and carefully steps around you, opening the bathroom door to retrieve the test from the sink. You’d left the light on in the bathroom when you’d shut the door, and now it floods your office from behind you. Dean’s footsteps are soft and his jacket rustles as he picks up the test, and you hold your breath as you listen for some kind of sign or clue as to the results. When there isn’t any, you turn in a circle to look at him.

“What’s it say?”

His profile gives you very little information about the results, and you take a tentative step forward when he doesn’t move or say anything. Maybe he just didn’t hear you? His bad ear is on the other side, but it’s still possible.

“Dean?” you prompt, stepping closer a second time. You wonder if he’s disappointed and that’s why he hasn’t said anything. The thought makes you nauseous again.

“You’re pregnant,” he answers. His voice shakes as he stands staring down at the plastic stick. It’s so small in his hand, and an image of him cradling a tiny newborn flashes in your mind.

You freeze a few feet from the bathroom threshold. “It’s positive?”

He nods and looks up, meeting your eyes. Tears glisten on his lower lash line, and you press your hands over your mouth, inhaling deeply as your heart leaps inside your chest. The wrinkle between his brows is gone once again, replaced with the kind of shock you’ve only seen a few times, the first being when you’d told him you’d loved him all those years ago.

“We’re having a baby,” Dean tells you, letting out a laugh. A smile grows on his face as tosses the test onto the counter and closes the distance between you in two long steps. He crushes you against him in a tight hug.

Too shocked to hug him back, you let Dean wrap his arms around you and lift you off the ground. Your feet dangle for a second before your instincts catch up with you. Hurriedly, you move your hands from your mouth to his back as your legs come up to wrap around his waist. You bury your face in the crook of Dean’s neck as you smile. Your cheeks already ache and you’re blinking away tears, but it doesn’t matter.

“We’re having a baby!” you exclaim. He spins around with you in his arms, and you push away from his neck and pull one hand from his shoulders so you can cradle his cheek in your palm. 

Dean’s eyes are alight with joy, making the green of his irises seem even more vibrant in the morning sunshine coming in from the office window. Your smile matches his as the scruff on his jawline scratches at the soft skin of your palm.

“You’re gonna be a dad,” you tell him, gently rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone. “You’re gonna be a great dad.”

He takes a few steps, then sets you down on the only clear space on your desk, beside the bag you’d brought with you this morning. You let your legs fall from around his waist so they bracket his hips, but you don’t drop your hand from his face.

“I love you,” Dean says. He brushes the backs of his knuckles over your abdomen, and you laugh when it tickles. There’s no bump yet, but the effect is all the same. Dean smiles wider, his eyes flicking to your stomach, then back up to your face. “I love both of you.”

You laugh and pull him down for a kiss. “We love you too, Dean Winchester. Forever and ever.”

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[try-set-me-on-fire]

How about odd socks for the soft prompts?

Eddie tries to write his vows. Poem excerpts from E.E. Cummings’ [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in], Mary Oliver’s The Mango, and Pablo Neruda’s Finale. Plain text version on AO3 here and under the read more!

Dear Buck oh its not a letter

Buck

Evan Buckley (?)

From the day we met, I

I take thee to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part except I don’t want to stop loving you when either of us die. I don’t want to part. Till the glaciers have melted and the oceans have dried up, till Mount Whitney (the tallest mountain in California, I looked it up) is eroded to a molehill, till the heat death of the universe do us part. Maybe that will be enough time

I keep thinking about that time you wore those fucking socks to work and Bobby and everyone were trying to really gently asses if you were having a breakdown because we just see AND YOU’RE GOING TO DIE on your ankle and then you laughed and pulled up your pants and it said “GET LOST IN NATURE AND YOU’RE GOING TO DIE” which like I still think is kind of a fucked up thing to put on a sock but you just did one of your beautiful sunshine grins (we weren’t even together but god I still got light headed looking at you) and were like “I thought it would be neat to remind people the importance of safety in nature” and I was kind of teasing and annoyed and laughed about it and that was like three years ago Buck and I still feel guilty about it because if you were going through some kind of crisis I don’t ever want to be annoyed and laugh about it, I want to be there for you no matter what and I hope I’ve proven that to you over the years, that I don’t just love you on easy days, I love you every single day all the time even when everything’s fucked even if I can’t write wedding vows to save my life christ this is terrible

I love your nose and your birthmark and your eyebrows and your hair and your shoulders and the bends of your elbows, and your wrists and hands, and I love your nipples and hip bones and cock and ass and knees and your shin, I love the scars on your shin, I love every scar you have because none of them killed you

How about

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

Or

But this was a rich house, and clever too.

After salmon and salads,

mangoes for everyone appeared on blue plates,

each one cut in half and scored

and shoved forward from its rind, like an orange flower,

cubist and juicy.

When I began to eat

things happened.

Or

your head on the pillow,

your hands floating

in the light, in my light,

over my earth.

It was beautiful to live

when you lived

The world is bluer and of the earth

at night, when I sleep

enormous, within your small hands.

Before the ceremony I told Shannon “It’s going to be okay” and in the moment I believed it because I had her and I was scared but she was my best friend and up there in front of her parents and mine I said the regular vows but I think that first one was what counted even if it didn’t end up being true. Maybe I’ve been telling you my vows for years. You can have my back any day. There’s no one on earth I trust with my son - with our son - more than you. Every time I tell you I love you, isn’t that a promise?

I’ve been happy before in my life, despite everything I don’t think I was an unhappy man, not always, only sometimes, but you make me happier than I thought was possible. That kind of feeling when you laugh too hard and you’re not getting enough oxygen to your brain. Isn’t that romantic, you give me hypoxia

Here’s the thing you know I’m going to get up there and just start crying immediately so I don’t know why I’m trying so hard to find words I won’t even be able to get out

No hi this is me two hours later of course this is important you’re important you knowing how much I love you is so important to me and I will stand up there blubbering at you for hours if that’s what it takes

I trust you. I love you. I am happy with you. I want to wake up beside you always, Buck I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you next to me first thing in the morning (or night or afternoon or whenever we’ve finished sleeping), touching your warm body with your lungs breathing and your heart beating and the solidity of you feels like a miracle

I’ll buy you socks so your feet don’t get cold and I’ll bring you fruit because you like to eat sweet things and wherever I live will be your home and I’ll be by your side as long as you do me the honor of wanting me there and everything I have and am is yours and I

[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 4

Chapter one here, two here, three here

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning: As always minor get out. Little angst, lots of fluff, handholding, vague suggestions of sex

Slow build like novel damn length okay, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

WARNING I do not have this all written out, I do have it plotted out, but it may be a little slower for chapters to come out. Please bear with me. Each chapter is roughly 2-3k long.

*releasing this early as I have a few days of being free. Thank you for all the love <3*

Trevor apologized about seven times in text before phoning you and apologizing again. You tell him ten times that it is fine and you were more than okay. Which then leads to about five hundred questions about what happened between you and Walton. The man will not take ‘nothing happened’ for an answer. 

“Trevor-Trev- oh-my-god could you shut up for one second,” You squeak into the phone, the man has not stopped talking since you picked up. 

“You woke up in his house! In his bed-”

“It was a guest room!”

“Are you sure? Did you see another room?”

“You are impossible right now. It was a spare room.”

“But he made you breakfast!”

You groan into the phone. “Trevor-”

“Like does that count as a date? Did you go on a date?”

“We did not go on a date. We did not sleep together. The only reason he didn’t take me home is because you wouldn’t answer your phone and I was beating anyone who asked where I lived.” You rush out, trying unsuccessfully to persuade him from asking again. 

“I give you mad props for beating on Leonard that man is a beast.”

You chuckle at that, Leonard looked like a cross between ex-military and Santa Clause. Thinking of yourself beating on him for touching you was hilariously ridiculous. The man was probably more inconvenienced than hurt. 

“So when is your next date?”

“TREVOR! We are not dating.”

“Yet. You’re not dating yet. Very important.”

You groan and bang your phone against your forehead in frustration.

“And don’t tell me it’s because he is older than you. I know you like to date older men.”

“I should have never told you that. Biggest mistake I have ever made.”

“Dirty old man fucker.” Trevor is cackling away in the background like some James Bond villain. 

“Oh my god Trevor. STAAP it.” You are also laughing, your damn friend was right. 

“You love it, and I know all about it,” Trevor sings songs into the phone.

“What about you and Decon?” You ask, changing the subject as smoothly as you can. At this rate, your face was going to be permanently red. 

“Oh. It was a wild night! I am looking forward to another one.” Trevor made some lewd noises.

“So gross, both of you. But I am very happy you’re happy.”

“I am over the moon,” Trevor is quiet for the first time, “He just treats me so well. I woke up and he was still there. Made sure I was comfy and took care of me”

“You’re so screwed.” You giggle, you had to give as good as you got. 

“Mmm, actually yes I am. And you should try it sometime.”

You groan again, “Yeah maybe in the next lifetime.”

“Oh, pffts. I give you another two weeks and I will be catching you sneaking off to his trailer.”

“I am rolling my eyes. Can you imagine if Liz got a whiff of anything?”

“What would she do? Fire you? You can’t fire a lead request.”

“I am sure she’d find a way. Or make me regret ever being on the show.”

“Pfftts. She can eat a bag of dicks. Actually, she may need to.”

You both break out into laughter at that comment. The two of you talk back and forth for a good hour. Before Travis is off to Decon’s again, you make gross gagging noises at him. Telling him to enjoy the rest of his weekend and you’d see him on Monday. 

You lay back on your bed staring up at your speckled ceiling, you had stuck up a handful of glowing stars to cover the water damage. Mind running over the weekend, running over the last month. You tell yourself that you’re delusional to think that Walton would ever be interested, but the thought is nice. The thought of going on dates, and well more, is delightful. Then again though, at the end of the day, you’re you. A thirty-something living in a studio apartment trying to break into a career that was over-saturated with a lot of talent. You rub your face, yep the picture of a prize.

***

You wake up early, determined not to let the sour mood you found yourself in over the weekend ruin this week. It’s a new day, anything is possible. Or something like that. You are already on the second cup of coffee, as your toast pops. Your phone jingles and you grab it to see who has decided to bother you this morning. 

“Hey, it’s Walton. Trevor gave me your number. We are running behind. See you soon.” Of course, Trevor would give him your number. You grumble at that, also at yourself for failing to realize you’d never given Walton yours. 

Your heart skips a little, you scold yourself for being ridiculous. “No problem, see you soon.”

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Yes, I’d love a coffee,”

“Same as usual?”

Now your face is pink as you stare at your phone screen. “Are you flipping fourteen again?” You say out loud to the room. “Stop this right now. You know better.” You curse and try to calm your damn heart. 

“Yes please.” You text back. 

You shake your head and finish eating your toast and grinning like a damn moron. Brushing your teeth, braiding your hair, and getting mostly looking human. It was a quarter to six in the damn morning anyway. If you were meant to look presentable this early you would have gone to bed earlier. Your phone buzzes reminding you that you need to get out of there. 

Grabbing your phone and purse you head out the door. Do your best to suppress the butterflies as you all but skip down the hallway. No matter how much you try to tell yourself that nothing will come of this, your heart is overruling your brain. Down the three flights of stairs and yep your heart is pounding in your chest enough to feel like a panic attack. You stop just before the front door, you can see the blackout line of an SUV through the glazed window. 

“Just go out there. It doesn’t matter what happens.” You take a deep breath. “And now you’re talking to yourself outside a door like a lunatic.”

Pushing through the door into the grey rainy early morning, you see Leonard standing beside the car with a small smile. The man reminds you of a Grandpa, big and gruff, but at the same time soft and kind. His arms folded across his chest, shoulder-length white beard blowing in the wind.

“Good morning Leonard, I heard I made quite the scene on Friday.” You smile as he opens the door for you.

“Just making sure you got home safe,” The man smiles, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. 

“I would like to apologize, I definitely won’t make a habit of it.” You say, giving his arm a quick squeeze, as you get into the SUV. It was the least you could do, you’d have to ask Walton what the man liked to drink. A small token of thanks only seemed fair. 

“Well, if you stay in my company it may become one,” Walton says with that damn smile gracing his face. He was wearing loose-fitting blank pants, a grey zipped-up jacket, and glasses as he read over the script in front of him. 

“Promise, I’ve seen worse dear,” Leonard says before closing the door and getting into the driver’s seat. 

You look at Walton and can’t help but smile back at him, “Who says I am going to hang out with you more.” 

Walton chuckles, taking his glasses off to look at you, “We will have to see about that.” 

You’re both sitting on opposite sides of a bench seat, but his hand finds yours and you don’t pull away. He talks about walking along the seawalls and a lazy Sunday spent indoors reading novels. You really wished you had been a bit more willing to spend the weekend with him. Somehow you end up telling him about your sketches and artwork. Your thoughts about one day doing prop creation, or maybe special effects. He asks about the sketches and you promise to bring one of your art books in. 

The ride is way too quick, and before you know it you’re being dropped off at your trailer. You thank both men again for the ride and hop into the trailer. 

Liz is sitting in your usual workspace, her face is a tight line that makes you feel sick. Why she was there was another question, the whole crew was supposed to three cities over setting up. 

“Hey, Liz,” You say, trying not to sound like you just walked into a swamp full of alligators.

“Of all the people, I would have expected you to be the most professional.” Your heart thuds in your chest at the words, wondering what the hell she is talking about. 

Sitting your bag down by your cupboard you turn to look at the women. “I am sorry?” 

“You think people didn’t see you leaving with the leading actor on Friday?” The woman sneers at you, her voice low but full of venom.

You put two and two together suddenly realizing what Liz was talking about. For a moment you’re stunned by the fact that the rumor mill had run so fast and far. “He was just making sure I got home safe.”

“Oh give me a break.” The woman hisses, your heart pounding in your ears now. Chest tight making it hard to breathe. “No one is that stupid girl. I saw you get out of the his SUV”

Your face goes red and something inside of you snaps. “First. Do not speak to me like I am a child.” You're angry now, and you’re so over the bullshit. “Second, what happens in my personal life is none of your business.”

“You think it looks professional to be running around after some actor?” She spits back, and your mind races to the rumor Trevor had told you about. 

“Well, it can’t be any less professional than you sleeping with half the production team.” The words come out of your mouth before you register them. It was only a rumor, but Trevor rarely dabbled in things that weren’t at least partially true. 

“You little witch.” Liz’s face is now red and she looks hurt. Yep, Trevor had hit the nail on the head with that one. “I should fire you right now.”

You glare at her, all your inhibitions set aside, you know you have the upper hand here.  “Go ahead, Liz. Fire me. See how well that goes over for you.”

Liz’s face clenches and you can tell you have her cornered. Yes, she could fire you and could make a big stink, but chances are the production won’t sanction it. Not to mention the union would have a fit. You would make sure of that. It wasn’t something you wanted to do, but damn, two could play at this game. 

“You-” Liz hisses standing and moving toward you, but you refuse to move, letting the woman get up in your face. “I will be grabbing some of my product and leaving you for the rest of the week. I hope it goes well.” 

She is gone with a blue tote a moment later. You are left standing in the middle of the trailer taken off guard. The fact that she’d come here, heard from a third party what had happened, and then decided to confront you. Part of you wants to cry and the other part wants to laugh. The most you’ve done with the man is hold his hand and everyone thinks you both were screwing over the weekend. You slide into your chair still a little baffled by the incident, not to mention that Liz would even suggest firing you. Your stomach rolls and you feel a little sick, tears now welling at the corner of your eyes. 

The door opens and you expect Trevor but it's Walton. The smile on his face falls immediately as he sees you.

“What happened?” He asked, quickly shutting the door, placing a breakfast burrito and two coffees on your station.

You shake your head and tears fall from your eyes. Hands covering your mouth as a small sob comes out. The rollercoaster of a morning is finally getting to you. Walton is in front of you gathering you up in his arms. He is warm and gentle, you try not to let the emotions overflow but it's too late. Leaning against him you cry. He smelled like coffee and vanilla, his jacket was soft against your cheek. Strong arms holding you against him as all your feelings spill out. You let yourself cry for a moment before you steel yourself enough to pull back. He's handing you tissues and you plunk yourself back into the chair feeling worn out and dazed.  Walton crouched in front of you eyebrows furrowed as you blew your nose. His hand landing gently on your knees as he comforts you. 

“What's going on Hon?” He asks as he rubs a soothing hand over your knee.

“It's -” You falter, unsure of how to explain the absolute bullshit that just happened. “Liz was upset about me going out on Friday”

Walton looks even more confused. “Why would that matter?” 

You rub your face trying to figure out how to say this. The amount of bullshit that happened was just ridiculous and you really didn’t want to drag him into it. Ultimately, you just say it cause there isn't a way around it. 

“Someone saw the two of us leave together.” You swallow your mouth going dry. “Liz made assumptions and told me I was being unprofessional. She threatened to fire me.”

Walton stands grabs his coffee and takes a sip. “I am not sure how that is any of her business. You've been very professional, and being fired would be detrimental to the whole process. You are a key part of this team, and her sticking her nose in your business is more unprofessional ” 

You just shrug, if you could go curl up in a ball for an hour you would. Just hide away, you can barely look at him. Shame hitting you at the fact you’d lost your cool over something so trivial. 

“It was just unexpected. And very hurtful.” You wipe your eyes, cursing that you need to reapply to your eyeliner. 

“Of course it was.” He comes back over and grabs your hand in his. They are always so warm. “You don't deserve to be spoken to like that. I am tempted to mention this to the PM.”

You shake your head looking at him finally. “It’s not the worst thing that's been said to me. Liz means well.”

Whether that was true or not was up in the air. Liz was a lot of things but she usually wasn’t unnecessarily cruel, which is why it had come off so shocking. The woman didn’t exactly have a way with words, but she had to have meant well.

“She means well?” He looks at you with eyebrows raised, his lips pressed into a firm line. Judging by his expression Walton didn’t believe that any more than you did. 

You swallow, “I- I need to have thick skin to do this job. It's not easy and people are always going to look for ways to judge me or demean my work.”

Walton squeezed your hand, “That may be true. But it doesn't mean I have to like it.”

The door to the trailer opens as Trevor walks in. His eyes look between both of you and then down to where Walton is holding your hand.

“Uhh, I will go wait outside..” Trevor flushes trying unsuccessfully to back himself down the steps. 

“No, it's okay.” You both say. 

Trevor pauses. Then proceeds to come in. Walton rubs his thumb over your hand before letting go. You wish he would stay, but there really wasn’t time for any more sappiness. 

“I am going to head over to costumes. They needed to do some alteration on a piece.” Walton says briskly grabbing his coffee and sliding the burrito across to you. He's out the door before you can say thank you.

Trevor is sitting there with a shit-eating grin, his feet dangling as he watches Walton go.

“So you aren't dating?” He chuckles, turning to lay out his tools. 

You groan, looking in the mirror to fix your eyeliner and clean off some fallen mascara, “He was being kind. Liz was here this morning. Guess someone told her about me leaving with Walt on Friday.”

Trevor's smile fades as he looks at you, “Those milling bastards.”

“Yep. Liz was unimpressed and threatened to fire me.”

“She wouldn't.” He all but stomped his foot. 

“Well, I am sure I will find out in the next few days.” You pray to whoever is up there that Liz would just leave it be. 

“Liz is many things. But she isn't stupid. Firing you would be more of a problem than it's worth.” You knew Trevor was right, but it did sting a little. 

“You're more than likely right. But it still hurts. Walton came in right after the argument and I will-” You look down at your feet remembering how upset he looked. 

“Had a small breakdown?” Trevor added in, trying to look at you.

“Yeah. Snot and all” You sigh as you double-check that everything you need is out and clean. 

“You should go out with him just to spit Liz.” He chuckles as he texts someone on his phone.

“If. And it's a big if. Trevor, I am going out with him. It's because we both want to. Not because of Liz.” You say firmly, that woman would not dictate your life. 

Trevor looks up from his phone.”Two weeks, three weeks, top before you are making his trailer shake”

You make a face, “You're disgusting.”

“You like it!” Trevor smiles, and you do. It was part of his never-ending charm. 

***

Chapter five

*So so much love to every one of you <3*

*If you want to be tagged in the next chapters please let me know*

[gemini-sensei]

More of Hawk and shy!Reader who smokes weed

When Reader gets high before another outing, Hawk is actually there with her. They share a blunt but he doesn't smoke a lot since it's for her anxiety. He gets a little buzz but it's not a lot.

So when they go out, he feels like he's floating but he has his wits about him. Reader is hooked on his arm as they walk through a festival with their friends. She's giggliy and sweet, flirting with Hawk like she's brewing a storm. He can't help but flirt back, making her flustered and hide her face in his bicep. Only for her to feel how muscled his arm is and feel it up - something she's done before while high but because she's high, she keep rediscovering this fact.

"Oh, so strong," she giggles every time.

He winks at her and tells her, "I could show you how strong I am some time."

The festival they're at has so many food stalls and games. And being high means Reader has the munchies, so after snacking from three different stalls, Hawk has to cut Reader off. He gets her a jawbreaker to suck on in the meantime. It staves off the munchies.

When it hits a certain time, people gather at a stage for an outdoor concert. Reader needs another smoke before going to stand with a crowd. So she slips away with Hawk and they share another blunt. While they smoke, they talk and laugh and have a nice time. She takes his hand before they walk back to the stage and find their friends, and he doesn't let go.

The whole concert, they're holding hands and singing along, screaming and jumping with the crowd. It's so much fun, it pulls Reader out of her shell. She's dancing with the music and screaming the lyrics with the singer. And Hawk is watching her the whole time. He's a little more buzzed than before but he's smiling like a goof because of Reader. She's so pretty when she lets go and enjoys herself.

Then things slow down and the crowd is swaying. It's gotten dark and there's lights shining on the crowd and the stars are coming our. It's pretty as the lights change color and Reader can't help but watch. She's swaying and leaning on Hawk, holding onto his arm again like she was before. As she's singing along, she's giggling because the lyrics are so sweet. It's a love song and as she realizes this, she turns to Hawk and sings to him with a big flirty smile.

He sings in return and they get closer to each other. They're so cute, so cute the band performing notices and they shout them out. It makes Hawk laugh because Reader hides her face in his chest.

The lead singer is having fun and asks, "Is that your girlfriend?"

And Hawk yells, "I wish!"

"Why not, man?" the singer asks. The whole crowd is invested

Hawk gets flustered and embarrassed and shrugs. He's red in the face and it's cute as Hell. "She's too good for me!"

The singer laughs, "I don't think she thinks that way!"

When Hawk looks at Reader, she is already staring at him. She has stars in her eyes and a pretty smile on her lips.

"This next song goes out to the love birds," the singer says and the band plays another slower song.

Hawk takes the chance and pulls her closer to him. They're swaying to the music and it so nice and sweet and then he kisses her. She kisses back and it makes his mellow heart skip s beat. The crowd right around them, especially their friends, cheer and clap and the band celebrates too. It's a fun time.

And of course by the end of the night, Reader and Hawk are on the band's Instagram page. It's a video taken by someone in the crowd of the pair as they have their moment. There are comments about how cute they are and how hot Hawk is.

The next day, Reader sees the post and is a mess. Moon thinks is adorable how she's reacting to it, throwing her phone and asking why that's up there. She also has a text from Hawk saying how much fun he had the evening before. And a question.

Hawk🦅: u wanna go out fr sometime?

[bitterbutblue]

stellaron hunters family headcanons

think about me when the moon arises - ☆ stellaron hunters

~these guys love each other but will never admit it to one another. theyd rather kill themselves than admit howmuch they love each other ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⤷ blade will never admit it but he is the biggest girl dad. will go out to buy pads for them without them even needing to ask for it. he will just go do it.

⤷ firefly and silver wolf r the closest siblings to ever sibling. silver wolf likes to poke fun of her and insult her jokingly but deep down will not hesitate to doxx someone if they even look at her the wrong way

⤷ firefly has the biggest crush on stelle and silver wolf has hacked into stelles social media accounts on many occasions to read her texts to astral express friends andn see if she feels the same

⤷ blade hates physical affection but will let firefly lean against his shoulder when she's tired. has a soft spot for his kids

⤷ they try to have 'family dinners' (blade refuses to call it that) at least once a week where they catch up (discuss their most recent murders and crimes)

⤷ elio sits at the head of the table eating his cat food

⤷ they all respect elio like he is their grandfather (he is a cat)

⤷ elio hates it when people 'pspspsps' him but will make an exception for firefly

⤷ blade will not HESITATEEE to throw hands at ANYONE who dares touch firefly or silver wolf. he cares so much for them but will never openly admit it. ever. he'd rather die. wait no he wants to die. he'd rather live.

⤷ stellaron hunters family gc is always active, and used to be even more active when stelle was around...

oh.. stelle..

⤷ kafka misses stelle. a bit like a mother when her child is off to college. she never openly admits it but the vists the astral express a lot just because she wants to know how stelle's doing. she messages stelle quite often too even if she knows stelle despises her now

⤷ deep down it hurts her to know that stelle doesn't see her the way she used to. she tells herself to remain cool and collected around stelle but it hurts seeing how stelle has forgotten all their history together, even if it is for the better good.

⤷ firefly broke down to silver wolf the first time she saw stelle again because it hurt so much knowing stelle doesn't remember their history at all. unlike kafka, she finds it harder to compose herself

⤷ CAELUS VERSION: blade was about to commit acts of mass murder when he found out caelus was dating his ex (dan heng)

⤷ stelle's phone actually still has her location shared with the stellaron hunters, and she doesn't know it. they all have their locations shared just in case something happens and firefly occasionally checks stelle's location once in a while when she feels sad. it makes her feel better knowing stelle is still out there, somewhere.

⤷ silver wolf became even more insistent on firefly playing games with her after stelle left because stelle used to play with her, but now stelle is gone. it feels empty now, staying up late at night, tapping away silently in her own room without stelle's loud shouting and cheering.

⤷ her bedroom. her bedroom is untouched, since the day she left it has remained untouched. firefly walks inside sometimes just to find fragments of the stelle she knew, lies in her bed and cries. kafka knows what firefly is up to despite how 'sneaky' firefly thinks she is.

⤷ kafka also does the same. she sneaks into stelle's room and looks through her old stuff, books, games, trashcan collection, and more. she used to chide stelle for collecitng such odd bits and pieces but now she wants nothing more than for stelle to run up to her holding a piece of trash, exclaiming how it is a secret work of art.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

[bronzeagepizzeria]

For @tentoorosemicrofics Moon + Singing

(Or 1.7k words of fluffy nonsense)

READ ON AO3

When Rose Tyler was five years old, she’d been cast as Sheep #3 in her school’s Nativity play.

It wasn’t a very impressive part—not like Keisha, who’d played Mary—but she remembers the pride that’d blazed through her when her Mum’d declared her brief stint as a farmyard animal as ‘incredibly convincing’.

(Which probably wasn’t all that much of a compliment, considering her role had consisted of little more than crouching into herself and some occasional bleating.)

Still, the experience had remained one of her fondest from childhood; her mum had taken her out for chips after, and there was a photo of the two of them outside the chippy—flushed and pink-cheeked from the cold, Rose still in costume, baring her teeth at the camera in a very un-sheeplike manner—framed and hooked onto the wall at their old lost flat.

Years later, (and a universe away,) in the woes of late-stage-pregnancy-induced nostalgia, she’d told the Doctor about it.

Unluckily for her, the Doctor, who was only a recent member of the human race, had never been part of a school stage performance. He’d thought it hilarious, and Rose had had to endure three extremely long days of her husband trying to sneak in the most absurd sheep puns into every conversation.

Until she’d had enough, and the Doctor had learned not to poke the extremely hormonal bear.

“Rooose,” he’d said with the air of a man who simply couldn’t help himself. “ Let me out of the baaathroom.”

When their five year old skips into the kitchen with a crumpled pamphlet and a massive grin, however, the Doctor sings an entirely different song.

“I knew it all along,” he says loudly, sweeping Mia into his arms. “Of course you’ve been cast—no surprises there. It’s in your blood, you know. Your mum was the finest actor her school ever saw.”

Rose groans, exasperated, turning just in time to see her daughter’s face pucker up into a frown.

“Really?” she asks dubiously. Even at her tender age, she knows her father can sometimes be full of it.

“Oh, yes,” the Doctor says, eyes twinkling, pushing a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “They could hardly tell the difference.”

“Shut up,” Rose tells him, whacking his shoulder lightly with a tea towel, before leaning in to press a kiss to their daughter’s forehead. “You’re going to be brilliant, darling.”

The Doctor tells everyone who will listen, and then he tells everyone who won’t, too.

His daughter’s playing a moon. She’s got two whole lines. She’s brilliant.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” he tells her suddenly, late at night.

Rose squints up at him, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Wha’?”

“This!” he says, wrestling with an extremely worn piece of paper. “This!”

Rose squints harder, and the script for Mia’s play comes into vision. The text’s been underlined and circled in several places, overwritten with the Doctor’s rapid, slanting hand, the margins full of swirling patterns and ovals she’s come to recognise as the Doctor’s language, the same ones she’d seen on the TARDIS.

The play’s about a boy from an alien planet, the Doctor explains with some amusement, and he’s looking for his pet cat (the starring role, naturally) but he’s lost, and Rose yawns, wondering why this world couldn’t just stick to something simple like the Nativity.

“Why would the moon even know where Abbadon is? And Abbadon—come on. Name a cat that and it’s like you deserve to lose it…”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to,” Rose tells him drowsily.

“What, lose a cat?”

“Think about it this much.”

But the Doctor’s muttering to himself again, something about inflections and enunciation, pen in hand, so Rose turns to her side, succumbing to the warm embrace of sleep.

It's a warm autumn night, the day of the big show. Rose isn’t sure who’s more excited, Mia or the Doctor.

The school’s bustling late into the evening, only for tonight, and her heart grows warm as she notices Mia, who can barely walk in a straight line at the moment, taking in the familiar building like it’s something she’s never seen before.

It’s a whole new entity at night; wind rustling through the neatly trimmed shrubbery, the ducky swings swaying slightly in the playground, excited chattering from all the children running about behind stage and the all too familiar hissed instructions to stay still by exasperated teachers and parents.

They come to a stop backstage. Mia’s nearly vibrating with energy when she turns to look at Rose, eyes flashing sudden worry. “Are you leaving now?”

“I have to,” Rose tells her, squatting so she can be level with her daughter’s small face. “Have to get a good seat, don’t I? You’ll do brilliantly, Mia, we’re already so proud of you.”

The girl nods once, and then her name’s being called, and Mia’s teacher shuffles her away for her costume fitting.

She’s easily one of the smallest children there, and Rose feels a strange twisting in her gut when her daughter turns to give her one last timid wave.

The Doctor’s saved her a seat in the front row, because of course he has, and his extremely battered Converse tap the ground restlessly as he bickers with her mother. It’s a habit he still hasn’t given up, the shoes—no matter how posh he’s dressed, and it endears him to her, impossibly as it may seem, even more.

And he is dressed posh tonight—in his best tux, in fact; Rose simply hadn’t the heart to tell him that he’d gone a little overboard.

“Well?” he asks her immediately, ignoring whatever it was her mum was saying before he caught sight of her.

“All good,” Rose says, plonking down on the seat next to him. “A little nervous, but that’s natural.”

“Nervous?” the Doctor scoffs a bit too loudly, even as his frame visibly relaxes. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s these other parents who’ve got to be nervous. No one’s even going to notice their children after ours—”

“Doctor, shh!”

It’s only when the lights turn on that Rose realises how large the audience actually is.

The auditorium’s packed to the brim, and she feels a swooping unease in the pit of her stomach as she imagines their tiny daughter reciting her two lines under those harsh stage lights.

Had it been this hard on her mum? She spares Jackie Tyler a glance, who is chatting away happily to Pete, and wonders if it gets easier when there’s a bit of a gap in relation.

The Doctor’s muttering to himself again, and Rose wonders if her experience would’ve been as good if she hadn’t successfully pulled off her bleating—if she’d gone on stage, frozen in front of that massive audience and forgotten her lines. She wonders if she should’ve actually checked on what the father-daughter duo were up to every spare moment they got, because God knows what the Doctor’s taught Mia, and—

“Good evening, everyone! Thank you so much for being here today. Our students are so excited to…”

It’s probably a good thing that the Doctor knows the entire script by heart, and proceeds to perform it live, because Rose can barely hear over the pounding in her ears.

Her grip on his palm (when had she grabbed his hand?) tightens when Mia stumbles slightly on entrance, the massive cardboard moon she’s been taped to getting in the way of her feet in her haste to enter stage, but she regains balance swiftly.

“Don’t worry,” she enunciates loudly, her voice clear as a bell. “I’ll show you the way.”

And Rose’s entire being swells with pride.

It’s magnificent, it is—even if the Doctor begins applauding right after (only to be stopped by a mortified Rose), and she can tell by the way her daughter is beaming that all that bubbling anxiety’s now glee, and it’s positively overflowing.

There’s probably not that much she’ll remember about this age in her life but this moment? Of looking into the audience with a sense of accomplishment, and seeing her parents unbearably proud?

This moment is eternal.

The rest of the play flies past, the two of them barely paying attention, still coming off the high that this is their life, and this is their daughter—

“I love you,” the Doctor says abruptly, lifting her palm to his lips. “Thank you.”

For what? she wants to say, but the words never make it out of her throat.

Mia is, thankfully, moon-less when she barrels into her adoring fans, less than half an hour later.

“How was it? HOW WAS IT?”

“Amazing,” Rose says truthfully, giving the girl a big hug, matching a wild smile with one of her own. “You were amazing!”

“You were wonderful, sweetheart,” her mum gushes.

“An incredibly convincing portrayal,” Pete says dutifully. “Best moon I’ve ever seen.”

Mia turns to the last member of the foursome now, the one whose opinion probably matters the most, on tenterhooks.

“Well,” the Doctor frowns, tugging on his ear. “Honestly, I’m a little disappointed.”

Mia’s face falls instantly. Jackie tuts in disapproval.

“Disappointed,” the Doctor continues, “because I didn’t know we raised a thief. What—you thought you could just steal the show like that and get away with it? The other parents are furious, you know. We’ve been getting requests all evening—haven’t we, Rose? They all want to take you home, all jumping at the chance to have such a brilliant performer in the family. I told them I’d think about it, of course…maybe for the right price—”

“DADDY,” Mia shrieks when the penny finally drops. “YOU LIKED IT!”

“Of course I liked it!” the Doctor roars, sweeping the girl into his arms. “I loved it. Nine hundred years, I’ve never seen a better…”

Rose watches them bid her parents goodbye with a slight stinging in her eyes; the Doctor’s face is alight with happiness, and Mia looks like she’s on another planet altogether.

The Doctor notices, because of course he does, stepping closer to Rose.

“What,” he says to Mia, even as his eyes never leave hers, “d’you say to some chips?”

“YES!”

The Doctor chuckles fondly, before lowering the spirited girl to the ground, from where she takes off immediately after her grandparents, probably in the hopes of haggling for a few more sweeties.

He reaches into his jacket pocket then, retrieving a battered looking instant camera. She knows it must’ve been hard to track one of them down—they hadn’t much been in fashion in Pete’s World.

“I know it’s not the same,” he says almost shyly.

Her heart is expanding so much and so fast she thinks it’s a miracle her ribs aren’t cracking from the force of it.

“No,” Rose tells him, beaming, “it’s better.”

*

[12-seconds-to-live]

(Un)Lost: Half a heart

Pairing: F12022/3!Grid! x Fem!Driver!oc

Warnings: DNF’s, angst, a little bit of love, episodes of anxiety.

Lando P.O.V.

Charlotte Robyn-Jones, the girl I fall in love.

Some people say that I’m just a lucky guy. To be young, full of energy and to be chosen as a formula one driver for McLaren. But even being so talented doesn’t make you feel complete, even when you’re surrounded by people who tell you how good you are, how loved, how lonely.

By the end of the 2021 season, my attention of how the standings finished for formula two wasn’t important at that time, so when the news of the driver for Williams came as a surprised. Another girl, I thought, wrong, she’s something else. I kept myself quiet when she was around just waiting for her eyes to look at mine, knowing that at the end, her smiled always showed up.

Charlotte is beautiful, intelligent, polite and loved.

I always wanted to know if she feels the same as me when the attention is higher. Nobody can deny how well is she doing this year and what the future may bring to her, I hope something good.

When Carlos introduced me to her I was scared, I feel my cheeks red and my anxiety higher that ever, I wasn’t brave around her but the way her eyes light up when she met someone new, how she talked about her mother, how she always laughed with the boys, almost everything about her made me smile.

The day she was included in the groupchat with the drivers, I decided to text her, I was nervous but she was funny and tell me I was the first of the boys to talk to her. We looked for each other in the mornings and almost every night we spent talking about things outside our carreers.

I was falling in love

No.

I’m still falling.

The problem is me, scared of a non-existing future, but at the same time I know that she is the better half of me.

I looked for her every morning when we arrive at the paddock, hoping she would be sitting in the front of her hospitality waving to every person who said hello to her, cracking jokes with the mechanics as she ate her favourite snack.

Every place I walked into, I was looking for her, hoping she wouldn't be looking at me first as I was embarrassed, of not knowing how to express my emotions, let alone tell her.

I don’t even like coffee but she is like a warm cup of coffee in a cold morning, she'll make me shiver without warning, make me laugh as if I'm part of the pranks she was always into with Daniel or Pierre, she’s the full moon and I’m the stars, not outshaining her, no, I’m 

She was like a warm cup of coffee first thing morning, waking me up and setting me up for day, or like the first bite of my favourite meal that I always wanted to repeat.

Charlotte Robyn-Jones made me feel things I had never felt before.

She invited to spend a week with her dad and Carlos’s family in Mallorca. We spend the day doing many activities with the others, but when it was time to sleep, she sit next to me in my room’s balcony, sometimes in silent, she trying to teach me a bit of spanish or talking about whatever come to our minds, but in my mind was the feelings I have, pictures of us.

My last night with them I was brave and I went for the kiss.

Once she told me that she likes to go straight to the point, she hates waiting, she hates when you can’t tell her the truth, maybe she knew about me. I told her that she always looked beautiful when her eyes shine looking to the sky, how her green eyes seemed like almost change to a different shade. She looked at me with a smiled and told me that the sun made mine look like color olive with a small shade of yellow and she really liked it.

I took her hand and she asked if she can kissed me, I did it. My hands cupped her cheeks, her hands went to my back, like a hug, I didn’t want to let her go.

I learned too much about her, she feels lonely since her mom passed away. How she is still picking her broken pieces even when she is always smiling and trying to make everybody happy. She wanted to grow up into F1. She is scared of dying and left things to say. She hates to wake up in the cold mornings to go to the gym. She hates to feel uncapable to love and being loved.

“I’m not gonna leave you, I promise to love you. Teach eachother to love. I’m here whenever you need me even if I’m thousand miles from home”. 

“I finally see what it means to be complete”

And I kissed her again.

You're going to realize it one day- that happiness was never about your job or your degree or being in a re-lationship. Happiness was never about following in the footsteps of all of those who came before you; it was never about being like the others.

One day, you're going to see it--that happiness was always about the discovery, the hope, the listening to your heart and following it wherever it chose to go. Happiness was always about being kinder to yourself; it was always about embracing the person you were becoming.

One day, you will understand that happiness was always about learning how to live with yourself, that your happiness was never in the hands of others.

It was always about you. It was always about you.

📍London, UK

Liked by charlotterjones, carlossainz55, mclaren and 1.102.031 others

landonorris With you, I’m happy being me.

user1 THIS WASN’T ON MY BINGO CARD

user2 SOMEONE CHECK CARLOS

carlossainz55 glad to see you man up, cabrón

charlotterjones London or Madrid?

landonorris As long as I am by your side

user3 CHARLOTTE? OH MY

user4 Carlos and Lando are going to be real family fr

mclaren @/williamsracing now we are family

williamsracing  💙🧡

danielricciardo Charlando ❤️

maxverstappen1 you owe me 50

intro

part one

part two

Taglist: @evans-dejong @omgsuperstarg @bibissparkles @hoely-maria @mochimommy2002 @noope306 @eugene-emt-roe​ @80sloverry​ @rens-daylight @honeydanny​

[cevansbrat0007]

The Green Light: Teaser

Summary: Teaser. Andy is over the moon when you finally get the green light to be intimate again after the birth of your babies. But how do you explain to him that you're not quite comfortable with your post-pregnancy body just yet?

Warnings: Smut, Husband Andy Barber, Daddy Kink, Insecure Reader, Post-Pregnancy Body, Discussions of Intimacy, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Full story coming soon! Prompt courtesy of an anonymous reader. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Warnings subject to change. All mistakes are my own. Please let me know your thoughts!

___

You wait to check your phone until after your appointment is over and you're safely back in your car.

2 Missed Calls - Andy Bear

3 New Texts - Andy Bear

Andy Bear: Hey, baby girl. How’d the appointment go? Did we get the all clear?

Andy Bear: Can you answer your phone, please? I want to hear your sweet voice when you tell me the good news.

Andy Bear: C'mon! You’ve got me dancing on pins and needles right now. Call me. 

You shake your head and then dial your man. He answers on the second ring. 

“There you are, sweetness! I was starting to get worried there for a moment.” The genuine concern in his voice has you playfully rolling your eyes. 

“Relax, Andy. Sometimes these appointments can take a while. It doesn’t mean anything is wrong, Dr. Wilson is just being thorough.” You check your appearance in the rearview mirror, noting that the bags under your eyes seem to look better than they have in days. “That’s part of the reason he’s been my OBGYN for so long, because he’s good at what he does.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. He’s great.” You know he's not being dismissive on purpose, it’s just that he’s chomping at the bit to hear one key piece of information. “How’s your little body? Did we get the green light?”

Ahh, and there it was. Sometimes Andrew Barber was like a dog with a fucking bone. And only your husband would refer to your body as being “little” when you were still walking around sporting maternity wear.  

“I’ve been cleared for all physical activity. Which means I can finally start working out again and –”

“Fuck, yeah we did!” He cheers into the receiver, loud enough to make you wince. “Alright, baby girl, that settles it. BiBi and KitCat are going to my sister’s for a sleepover and the twins will stay at grandma’s. Meanwhile, I’m gonna leave the office early to pick us up some dinner. How about we celebrate with some surf and turf?”

“Oh my god, Andrew! We are not leaving our two newborns at your mother’s house for the night. That’s too much!”

“What if she already said yes?” You have no doubt that your unrepentant husband is smiling hard enough to crack a tooth right about now. 

“You didn’t.” Your head drops to the steering wheel with a light thunk. 

“Oh, I did.” The sound of an eager chuckle spills across the other line. “Ma and Bill are happy to keep Rory and Junior. She said you left them with enough formula and diapers to get ‘em through and that she, and I quote, would be positively heartbroken if you deprived her of time with her precious new grandchildren.”  

“Andy…I don’t know…” As tempting as the thought of a night of uninterrupted slumber was, you were on the fence about being away from your precious babies for that long. 

RoRo needed to be rocked to sleep, while A.J. needed you to pat his little tush and bounce him just so. And they both needed approximately 1,375 kisses every five minutes, otherwise they got fussy. 

“You must really want a good night’s sleep, huh, Big Man?”

“Baby, when I get my hands on you, I promise that sleeping will be the last thing on both of our minds. Now, I’ve gotta run. But I’ll see you home around 4:00pm.”

“Andy…” 

How did you tell your husband that you weren’t really feeling your post-pregnancy body right now? You’d even taken to changing in the bathroom lately. Thankfully he hadn’t seemed to notice that increasingly bad habit of yours…

At least not yet. But it was only a matter of time.

“Hush, sweetness. You just let Daddy take care of everything, okay? I’ve been dreaming of this day for almost two months now, and I plan to take my time loving all over every inch of your delectable body. And what’s more, you’re going to let me.” You can practically feel your nipples pebbling beneath the fabric of your shirt. 

God, how did he always manage to sound so sexy when he was telling you what to do? Handsome ass buttface!

“I’ve gotta head into this meeting, but in the meantime, get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.” You respond with a resigned sigh. “I…I guess I’ll see you when you get home then.”

“Damn right. Can’t wait to lose myself between those luscious thighs.” Andy rasps with a slightly roughened edge to his tone. “It’s been way too long since I’ve had a taste…” 

Oh good God…and it had been way too long since you had to deal with beard burn. At this point, you’d almost forgotten about what it felt like.

“Bye, Andy Bear.”

"Goodbye, little love.”

END TEASER

[bubuslutty]

part 8: carpool karaoke

Pairing: platonic moon boys x fem!reader

word count: 897

Tags: reader is referred to darling because i said so (and steven calls her darling cuz he’s a lil british dude innit), some fluff with our boy Jake!!

Warnings: none

Summary: darling stays late to the library and texts jake to come n pick her up

a/n: Nu Nu & You Wish by Flyana Boss

Me: jake

Me: are you done with work?

Jake: yeah why?

Me: are you home?

Jake: not yet

Me: can you pick me up pls?

Jake: where are you?

Me: library

Jake: I’ll be there in 15

Darling waits for Jake in front of the library building, hood pulled over her head and trying to act like a roadman so she won’t get harassed or killed by some stranger in the middle of the night.

When Jake pulls up in his black taxi, she sighs in relief, bag slung over her shoulder and opens the passenger door, getting in and chucking her bag into the back seats.

“How was work?” She asked, turning her head to look at the man, a dark shadow cast over his eyes due to his hat, his gloved fingers resting on the wheel.

“Good, how was studying?” He asked.

“Torture, can I play some music?” 

“Sure. Are you hungry?” Jake asked and she paused for a second, “A bit yeah, do you want to go somewhere specific?”

Jake ends up driving them to his favourite Kebab place while Darling sings along to the music playing through the car’s speakers. And Jake bobs his head along the beat, tapping his fingers against the wheel when they’re at a red light while Darling sings her heart out to the cuntiest and girliest song ever, and this time it’s songs from a duo called Flyana Boss.

She even goes as far as to make a whole seated choreography in his passenger seat while he glances at her once in a while, secretly amused. She sure has a lot of energy when she has very visible dark circles and droopy tired eyes, maybe it’s human zoomies or some shit, whatever it is, it gives Jake some entertainment in his otherwise empty cab.

Jake also ends up victim to listening to whatever new music she’s listening to at the moment, gracing his ears with new noises and melodies every other week when he has to drive her somewhere. And sometimes, he adds some of her played songs to his own Spotify playlist, without telling her of course, because that’ll make her ego big for no reason and annoy him.

And when they do get kebabs, they sit at a two-person table, facing each other while eating. And Darling is rambling and babbling about random things, she does that sometimes, if she gets enough tired, she somehow becomes delusional and starts talking with no filter.

Jake doesn’t mind the chatting, he’s just happy to be eating something before passing out in bed to rest. But hanging out with their neighbour is also nice. It was nice to have to listen to another voice other than Khonshu’s or the screams of death and pain in dark hallways.

Jake doesn’t tell her about his job, she knows he’s a cab driver as cover, but has never asked anything about what he actually does. And she’s no dummy, she knows he serves Khonshu’s justice with his fists and a gun strapped up to him at all times.

To put it shortly, he’s quite a grey character while she’s violently colourful.

“Yep, that’s what I’m talking about, yummy in my tummy-” Darling talks to herself and nods while devouring her kebab and shoving chips down her throat.

“Thanks for paying, by the way.” She thanks him without looking up.

“Don’t worry about it, anything for my favourite clown.” Jake teases, taking off his hat and running his hand through his slicked-back hair, white crisp button-up stretching over his broad shoulders, muscled back and biceps.

“Hey!” Darling glares at him and he laughs, “You’re a clown. You sometimes dress like one, and you procrastinate revising for tests and then when they approach, you have a panic attack and Steven has to hold your hand while you revise.” 

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m trying!” Darling whines, taking a swing from her Fanta.

“I know,” Jake says, and that’s one of the closest things he can get to as a compliment.

“I’m done, let’s go.” Darling eventually says, slapping her hands on her thighs like a 40-year-old dad and starts cleaning up the table while Jake helps and wears his jacket and hat.

“Cheers, bossman! Good night!” Darling says loudly, giving the man behind the counter a thumbs up and walking out of the door as Jake gives the man a polite nod.

Jake unlocks the cab and goes around to his door, and when he notices her still standing there, he frowns, “What are you doing?”

“Look,” She points at the sky, behind him, and he turns around, “The moon looks beautiful tonight.” 

Jake looks up at the sky, free of any clouds and sees the bright moon shining in the middle of the sky, in all of its beautiful glory, “Hm, it’s nice.”

“Jake, whatever you’ve done tonight, you did a good thing. So thank you.” Darling says, voice low, almost a whisper.

Jake doesn’t say anything and keeps staring at the moon, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He shivers and turns to look at her, “Get in, Steven has class tomorrow and so do you.” 

“Fine, mum.” Darling groans dramatically and gets in the car, buckling herself in.

“Can I play some mu-”

“Hell nah.”

“Why not? I thought you liked my music?”

“You’ve had your turn, now it’s mine.”

Tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @bobastayhigh @weblesstherains @h-leigh @unspokenmoon @ahookedheroespureheart @thursdaywritings @gebstargeb 

[miguelmeiai]

Life is Strange - What if Esteban hadn't died? - Part IV

Esteban and his sons are by the fire. They are eating marshmallows. The wind blows gently. The atmosphere around them is soothing. The sound of the crickets, the water, and the leaves can be heard. ─ Dad, why did my mom run away after she gave birth to me? Was it because of me? Daniel's eyes become watery. ─ No, Daniel, that's not it. It's just… she was unhappy with her life. It's not your fault, Daniel. Maybe I, as her husband, could have done more to… ─ Dad, it's not your fault that that selfish woman decided to abandon us for no reason. ─ I know, Sean, but I was her husband, I shoulda… Sean looks at Daniel. ─ Promise to me we won't talk about this ever again! ─ Come on, Sean! ─ You two, please, don't get into a fight! We came here to relax a bit.

─ Dad, I deserve to know about my mom! Why does Sean forbids me to ever ask about her? ─ I do that to protect you, Daniel, but you're so heard-headed. ─ Okay, Sean, enough. He is only nine years old. ─ This is so unfair. Why do we need to care about her and pity her? Dad, I remember all those nights you stayed up and crying because of her when she left us. Don't you remember how much you suffered because of her? ─ Case closed, Sean! God teaches us to always forgive people, regardless of what they have done. It was hard for me to accept the truth about what happened, I even doubted many times if I could handle all that, plus take care of you and Daniel. Daniel yawns. ─ I think I'm going to sleep. I'm so tired from all that walking. ─ I imagine so, son ─ Esteban laughs. ─ But I kinda have to pee before I sleep. ─ Hm, you can pee behind a tree. But please don't go very far, or else you'll get lost. ─ Okay, dad. Daniel gets up and search for a place to pee. Esteban looks at Sean. ─ Sean, we need to talk. You have been acting so immaturely and aggressively with Daniel. What's happening? ─ Dad, you only stay by Daniel's side. And the lame excuses are all the same. Esteban sighs. ─ I know teenager years aren't the easiest. I know you might be stressed out. I get you. Daniel has been complaining about you. ─ Complaining about me for what? ─ He wants your attention. All you've been doing was pushing him away when he needed you the most. He almost got hit at school and he tried telling you, but you didn't listen. ─ I'm sorry about that, really. ─ I know you hate to babysit him, but listen, Sean: having a brother is one of the most amazing gifts God can give us. ─ But dad, I do love Daniel. It's just… he is annoying sometimes. ─ You were annoying too sometimes when you were younger. Yet I didn't push you away. Sean sighs. ─ I get it, that. I promise I will try to get closer to him. ─ You know your behavior directly influences his. You are his role model. ─ I know, dad, I know. You have been saying this to me like every day. Daniel comes back. ─ Woah, Daniel, you really took a long time to come back. ─ I got distracted by some cute dogs. Esteban laughs. ─ Great, little boy who never runs out of energy. Now it's time to sleep. Daniel lies down on the floor and shortly after falls asleep. Esteban looks at the stars and Sean looks at his phone. As he is about to text his friend Lyla, it runs out of battery. ─ Fuck, my phone ran out of battery! ─ Take it as a positive thing. It feels good to be disconnected from everything and just seize the moment sometimes. That's why we came here, right? ─ Yeah… They both lie on the grass and look at the clear sky filled with stars and a crescent moon. ─ Another thing I enjoy about the wild is that we can see way more stars. Sean looks at his dad and notices he already fell asleep. ─ Dad… you must have been tired as well. He yawns. ─ I think I'm gonna sleep too. Sean closes his eyes and begins having a nightmare about him and his brother at the front of their house and that same police officer from the previous day. Dad comes, and the police officer shots at him, instantly killing him in front of them. Anxious and highly emotive, Daniel accidentally activates his telekinesis powers and ends up killing the cop. Sean and his brother run away from the city as fast as they can, afraid of the police.

[lucyav13]

Nastasia

(Credits of the art to @starlitwishes-art all of their art is great! <3 )

Nastasia's past is explained by Carson in one of his histories:

'Once upon a time, a man went to look for the girl he loved, who was missing. As he passed through a forest, he found a bat stuck in a trap. He set the bat free. It promptly thanked him and disappeared.

As he lay down to camp that night, he heard a voice and looked about. He noticed the sky was filled with a huge, round moon. There stood before him a woman he had never seen. The bat had transformed into the species of the one she had fallen for.' Now, I don't know if that's true or not...

The last part of the story was... 'The bat pledged eternal loyalty to the man out of love on that night.' ...

Obviously, we can suppose that the man in the story is Blumiere (before he turns into Count Bleck), the girl who he was looking for is Timpani and the bat who then turns into a woman is Nastasia.

Her name is Greek for "She who shall rise up again", possibly a reference to her only falling unconscious from a deadly attack or the story with the bat and the man Carson tells titled "Of Bats and Men". It is also a portmanteau of "nasty" and "Anastasia".

In the English version, she speaks in a casual manner, using words like "'K" and "gonna" often, although in the Japanese version she speaks much more professionally.

Her abilities enables her to control several people at once and command them to do tasks they would never consider doing in their right mind, such as forcing Luigi to attack his friends. However, her hypnosis is at least possible to resist, as shown by Peach during her wedding with Bowser. Nastasia seems to use her power by lifting her glasses, upon which a white glow flashes and her target is surrounded in square lasers, which puts the victim under Nastasia's (and by extension, Count Bleck's) control. Notably, the hypnosis she uses may sometimes cause physical changes in the victim, such as hypnotized Koopa Troopas donning dark glasses and spikes. (And perhaps that would explain the drastic change in Mr. L outfit)

Another fun fact is that, in the post-game, there's a boy on Flopside who was in love with Nastasia, but she comments to us her feelings for the Count, and decides that even if she could learn to love again, she probably never could have measured up to Timpani anyway.

Card type: Rare

Card Description: Nastasia is Count Bleck's executive assistant. She's in charge of scheduling, organizing, and brain-control. Word is, she's got a secret crush on her boss.

Trivia: Before the game's initial release, artwork of Nastasia and Tiptron together was released despite the fact that the two never interact in the game.

Tippi originally had a tattle for Nastasia in the postgame, though since Tippi would have already been gone by this point, it went unused and remains in the game's files. The tattle reads, "That's Nastasia, the count's executive assistant. She has served him the longest... Without him, she is quite lonely, but she manages to go on in her new life... It is hard for me to see her like this... I think I know exactly how she feels..."

Quotes:

"Yeah, I'll fire off a memo on that...but for now, we have another item on the agenda..."

"Yeah, so some minions in the Bowser organization are still resisting assimilation. So I'm heading out to squash the resistance..."

"So I guess you finished up that report on your own inadequacy that I needed?"

"Um, no, my count. I won't be doing that. My life is already sworn to you."

"If only I could have, y'know, been that girl... Things would have been different..."

"Yeah, I'm afraid your orders mean nothing anymore."

The above text is from the Super Mario Wiki and is available under a Creative Commons license. Attribution must be provided through a list of authors or a link back to the original article. Source: https://www.mariowiki.com/Carson

[blackbloodteeth]

Maka had known Soul online for quite a while before they finally met up in real life. Out of all of her friends, he was the one she knew the least about, but it was always a delight to see his sense of humor lighten up the rest of the group.

As predicted, he was somehow even more disheveled than he was in his late-night bathroom selfies. His biker jacket was really cool though. He actually took her out for a ride on his motorcycle when they went out into town for the afternoon, something she would've never dreamed of in her earlier years of studyholic highschool student turned exhausted college student (oh how times have changed), but she understands now how exactly he feels whenever he went off on tangents about that bike of his.

It was a really fun afternoon. He knew just where to take her, all the fun spots like the old-school local arcade and the best vegetarian-friendly food joint this side of the state has to offer, even taking her to a cozy little bookstore that he swears up and down he just happens to have taken note of because it would interest her, unshakeable smile be damned. It was so great to just see him smiling.

In the earlier years of their early morning messages, where both of them were probably up well past their bedtimes, he'd sometimes slip into that dark hole that would take up his head. She never understood why he thought so harshly of himself as some kind of "animal" or "horrible beast," but she always tried to stay with him until he saw at least a little light again and was more like himself. He's been doing so much better these days, and she couldn't be prouder of him for taking better care of himself.

Soul's a little more awkward in real life than he is online, but turns out he's also more of a sweetheart. And mischievous. If you thought he was a sarcastic jackass in text, he's infinitely worse in person. That's what makes her laugh so much. He's really good at riling her up in the funnest ways possible.

It almost felt like something was bothering him, though. The moment she'd catch a glimpse of it for long enough, he'd give her a shine of those sharp canines, and it'd be back into the moment like it never happened. This time, he stopped smiling.

They went back to the hotel they're both staying at for the night when the sun started to get close to setting. He invited her into his room, nothing weird, just said he wanted to show her something he's been thinking of telling her about for a really long time. She almost wondered if it had to do with his sporadic mentions of being a musician until she saw how lost in thought he looked by the curtain of the window, like those early years would bubble back up right to the surface.

I didn't want to tell you before we hung out so you'd have a good day to remember, he says quietly. I probably should've, so I'm sorry, but if you want to hate me after this I completely get it.

Maka's arms are crossed, worried. He reassures her that he still appreciates everything she's done for him, so he won't be mad if she doesn't talk to him anymore. He doesn't answer when she asks what's going on, just pulls back the curtain, tosses away his jacket.

The look on his face is the most frightened she's ever seen him. He's sitting down on his knees as Maka can only stare at the way his body shivers, the tips of his fingers becoming long and sharp. Hair starts to spread across his arms from under his shirt, just as white as the full moon hiding up in the sky, his ears and face starting to change too.

She never even realizes her hand is covering her mouth the entire time. She couldn't believe it was really happening, a creature that only existed in old folklore and theories cowering where her friend is right now. And yet it all finally made sense with how much he looks like an animal now, furred limbs ending in claws and an elongated jaw filled with fangs only barely resembling a human anymore.

When his transformation is seemingly complete, he doesn't howl. Doesn't make a peep while he watches her. All he does when she quietly calls his name is curl further into himself.

Soul leans away from her as she walks closer to him. He even tenses up when she slowly reaches out her hand, crouching to meet him at eye level. I'm not going to hurt you, she says calmly. I really appreciate that you trust me with showing me this, so please trust me that I won't ever hate you. You're still you.

A soft whimper leaves his anxious, sweetheart eyes before he shakily lifts one of his hands up and gently sets it in hers. He lets out a low whine, maybe because he can't fully speak at the moment, that she knows means he still sees that little light too.