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#and yeah we've been shit for the last two
jerswayman · 27 days
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sad thing is that we actually did improve. that was our game for the taking until that disaster of a bad call handed the p*nthers the game on a big fuck off platter
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tears-of-boredom · 1 year
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day 21: home
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sugaroto · 1 year
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Tiktok realized I was feeling off with my friend before I did
#pov: you slowly start hating your bsf *song on the back sick of your voice sick of your face sick of~*#and i was like whaattt noooo i dont hate *him* and thought of that one while at the time we supposedly were a trio#i saw two tiktoks like that#and then he send me one like 'haha why is tiktok showing me that?' or something#haha lmao dude same!! i also saw 2 of those i dont understanddd#and its been months#and just the other day i was talking with my mom and i told her how I felt and how hes been annoying me for no reason or done/said stuff#that bothered me#sbsjjsjs#and also. the last months im speaking daily with someone else and maybe not even exchange a word with my 'bsf' even though we sit together#in the bus and like- when sometimes i compare the 2 of them or how their reactions to stuff i say are-#idk i feel like hes constantly judging me or doesn't care about what I have to say so sometimes i dont even bother#like at this point im looking forward to the days hes not taking the bus back home so i can listen to music instead of sitting in silence#its an unspoken rule to always sit on the same place and i dont want to break it. even though the other day he was like 'sit on the front#cause im studying'#ahhshs ugh the other day I was like 30 minutes anxious he would judge me about something I did wrong but he never did#like am i just making shit up?? idk sometimes he just annoys me and i feel like an asshole cause we've been friends for so many years but#i do feel a better treatment by the new people im hanging out with most of the time like;#i never pay attention when you talk/oh yeah i remember that random thing you mentioned last year#and like i get he doesn't care about what we were talking about but literally saying 'i never pay attention to you 2' like ok. why even#talk to each other then? ... Also im sick of everyone who says shit like 'once we graduate we'll never see each other again' like yeah#if you have an attitude like that. like half of us are neighbors. i literally heard someone say 'can we be friends until july to go to the#concert?' and the other person was like why are you talking like that why wouldn't we be? and my bsf is one of those people who cant wait#to graduate and never return here#...oof ok im gonna go take a bath Goodbye#sugarenia talks#sugarenia diary#sugarenia has friends#sugarenia doesn't have friends
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So, I’ve been playing Stardew with that guy lately. Forgot that switch stardew had multiplayer tbh. He bought the game on sale a while ago and literally never played it past the first week so this was like fully new to him. And the entirety of the first spring, he’s 100% focused on literally everything but the NPCs. Just enjoying the farmsim parts. Everything of it and especially the mines (me too tho). And then i go and I’m like “Dude. Talk to the fucking townspeople. The Heart Events. The sheer lovely characterization. Go Do It.” Then i tell him about the romancing options and how exactly to romance people. And then encouraged him to Finally Just Pick One. He starts looking through the list and says “I see (Single) under your character. So uhhh. How about you?” Dude straight up goes and buys the wedding ring recipe. AND THEN I GET HIM TO START WITH AN NPC. He picked Leah. Solid choice tbh.
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abbysbug · 2 months
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— Two Little Lovebirds
ellie being a cutie little loser
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Pairing; Streamer!Ellie x Streamer!Reader
a/n: this is how i imagined my streamer!ellie to ask my streamer!reader out
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@stegosauruswilly sooo are you and y/n dating or what?
@ladydcansteponme yeah come on ellie. we've seen what you've been posting
@minecraftergod LMAO they're definitely dating look how red her face is going
Ellie's eyes scanned over the chat, reading every message. She and you weren't dating, not yet, at least. She wanted to ask you out but couldn't find the courage.
"Uhm." She mumbled, trying to keep up with her energetic mood. She had been playing Roblox horror games for the past hour, and everything had been okay until people started to mention you.
Don't get her wrong, she adored talking about you. But having to talk about her relationship with you made her feel embarrassed. She had been talking to you for two weeks and she hadn't asked you out. That is so not lesbian of her.
@m0mmym11kers oh shit. maybe theyre not dating.
"Okay, guys. I think I'm gonna wrap it short today. Have fun at, Y/n's stream!" Ellie clicked on the button to raid your stream, sending all her viewers to your channel.
She slumped down in her chair and ran her hand on her face. God, she needed to ask you out.
A large grin spread across your face when you saw that Ellie raided you.
"Thanks for the raid, Els. Oh, wait. Is she not here?" You frowned, not seeing Ellie's familiar username pop up in chat.
@minecraftergod uh yeah ellie ended stream really randomly and i guess she didn't join
@rubberducksex she seemed kinda upset ngl maybe check on her
You opened your messages with Ellie.
You: hey, are you ok? people said you looked upset and ended stream randomly.
Ellie: when are you free?
You: like in an hour
Ellie: can i come over in an hour then?
You: yeah ofc. u ok tho?
Ellie didn't reply to you. You bit your lip in concern.
You ended the stream 30 minutes later. You were concerned about Ellie and couldn't keep your mind off of her. There was a knock on your door and you looked over to check the time. Shit, has it been an hour already?
You opened the door and smiled at the sight of Ellie. You threw your arms around her. You pulled Ellie inside, closing the door behind her.
"You okay, Ellie?" You asked, "You're quiet."
Ellie shrugged, playing with her fingers.
You frowned, taking her face in your hands. You ran your thumb over her cheek. "What's wrong?"
"I wanna be your girlfriend," Ellie blurted out, immediately regretting her words. That was not how she wanted to ask.
When you didn't reply immediately, you felt Ellie started to pull away from you. But you wrapped your arms around her neck and pressed your lips against hers. Your actions shocked Ellie, but she quickly reciprocated. Her arms wrapped around your waist.
The kiss was messy but full of love. You pulled away when you started to run out of breath, and rested your forehead against hers.
"So, is that a yes?" Ellie asked.
You giggled, nodding your head. "Of course it is."
Ellie gave you a shy smile.
"Wanna tell me why you were upset now?" You questioned, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.
Ellie sighed, attempting to look away from you, but you tilted her head to look at you. "I just- Everyone kept asking me if we were dating and I wanted to ask you out so bad so I just felt like a loser for not having the courage."
You frowned. "Ellie, you aren't a loser for not having the courage. I didn't have the courage either, does that make me a loser?"
"No, but-"
"Exactly. You aren't a loser."
Ellie sighed. She knew you were right. You kissed the tip of her nose and smiled.
"Feel better now?"
She nodded.
"Wait, I gotta flex to Twitter that I'm dating you." Ellie pulled her phone out and swiped to her camera app. Ellie wrapped her arm around your neck and pulled your faces together. At the last second, you turned your face, kissing Ellie on the lips.
A light blush spread across Ellie's face when you pulled away, grabbing her phone to look at the picture.
"Awe, this looks cute. Post it,"
Ellie smiled and typed out a post.
@carpetmuncherwilliams FINALLY GOT THE COURAGE AND ASKED :p WHO WANTS TO COME TO THE WEDDING!!! *1 image attached*
@buffjesse replied gay as hell DOWN WITH THE GAYS
@dinaisbetter replied jesse stfu they are literally so cute why dont u post photos of me huh??
@buffjesse replied *4 images attached*
@dinaisbetter replied r u serious THOSE ARE PICS OF ME SLEEPING WITH MY MOUTH OPEN DELETE THOSE RN
Ellie laughed at Jesse and Dina’s conversation, passing the phone to you.
“If you ever post photos of me like that, I will kick you so hard.”
Ellie held her hands up in defensive.
“I absolutely will not.”
She definitely will at some point.
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munivrse · 8 months
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hc for what Bada would be like when she’s pursuing you? Extra points if the reader is a lil oblivious and Bada’s just like ‘this girl is mine she doesn’t even know it lololol’
this is so cute thank u for this idea 🫂🫶🏼
bada is so in love with you and IS SO OBVIOUS ABOUT IT
it starts out really sweet and bada is just softer with you than she is to others.
you took one of her classes, loved the way she taught and her dance style, so you naturally began to attend more.
you really wanted to improve on your own dancing so you were taking her classes to learn more.
slowly bada started to notice you becoming more of a regular
when you walked in the doors to her class, she'd send you a small wave
eventually she asks for your name, you squeak it out, and she falls in love immediately
she just thinks you're so cute she wants to shrink you and put you in her pocket
with each class she begins moving you closer to the front
if she notices you struggling with a move, she'll personally run through it with you and you alone.
"bada, why do you give me private lessons?"
and bada is EMBARRASSED LMFAO so she just says
"i think you have a lot of potential as a dancer"
internally facepalms but whatever.
you hang out outside of classes now, and she pays for everything
and then she starts buying things that remind her of you
accessories, clothes, shoes, little knicknacks
she spoils you so bad
when you guys go out, she's got her hand in yours, swinging your arms as you walk.
and now you guys are showing up to her classes together...
and now her students are badgering her about who you are
she gives a vague answer and keeps it pushing
you, none the wiser, just think she's being nice
do you think shes talented, fine, tall, and overall the full package?
yes
yes you do
BUT theres no way she's into you
that is until... uh she's dancing to takeout.
and right before she hits the floor-
she takes two fingers and points at you in a "come here" motion.
takes her fist, hits her hips with it twice, takes one last glance at you and starts basically fucking the floor
and you're like damn😳 maybe she does want me
after that class she makes you stay with her while she packs everything up.
you're just dying to ask her if she was pointing at you before she... she did what she did to that floor.
"yeah i was. why?"
DAMN U SAID THAT SHIT OUTLOUD LMFAOOOO
"i- why would-" *clears throat* "why were you pointing at me?"
bada just laughs, taking off her hat and putting it on your head.
"i'll see you tomorrow."
and then she just leaves you alone to process your thoughts.
and you do
you think for hours
and shit just starts to make sense
why she insisted on paying for everything. the way she kissed your hand whenever you guys were holding them. the way she'd stand behind you, hands on your hips while the guys from her classes would try to talk you up
it also made sense why during sleepovers she insisted you sleep in the same bed, bada's limbs entangled in your own. why she would wake you up with gentle kisses and make you breakfast in the morning
and you are just DUMBFOUNDED 😭😭 YALL BEEN DATING THIS WHOLE TIME
so you call her that very night and the first thing out of your mouth is-
"ARE YOU MY GIRLFRIEND???" and bada is just losing her shit on the other side
just cackling at you
"y/n... baby. yes. yes i am your girlfriend. we are girlfriends. we've been girlfriends for a little while now."
you're having a crisis and she just
"i'll come over there and we can talk about it. is that okay with you?"
"... yeah."
"good. i'll see you in 10. love you."
"love you too. WAIT-"
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heartfullofleeches · 2 months
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Does jasper get jealous when bunny interacts with the other mods
Very, but they also have to be careful when displaying their anger. There's been a handful of times they've nearly sent another mod a nasty message from their main so it's safer if they don't interact with them at all. If they kill any of them, Bunny might be rightfully terrified and try to quit streaming/run away - making things even more difficult for them. At most for now, Jasper sticks to being as passive aggressive as they can with other mods leaning as heavily they can on the passive because if they do even a pinch more of the opposite the floodgates of their hatred will open.
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Mod 1: Great Stream, Y/n!
Mod 2: How are you feeling now? I know it's been hard for you to sleep lately with everything that's going on.
Jasper: (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠) Haha- I think we've bothered them enough for one night, guys. Cooking and keeping an audience entertained is a lotta work, yeah? ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ They need rest after such a long day. If I hear about any of you talking to them and keeping them up. I'll kill you.
"Shit."
Jasper: (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) Ah- That was a joke. You guys know that, right? (⁠*⁠^⁠3⁠^⁠)⁠/⁠~⁠♡I love you guys, but not as much as we all love Y/n I'm sure."
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Mod: Sorry for my absence. My grandma fell and hurt her wrist pretty bad last weekend. She's okay now, but it was pretty scary at the time..
Bunny Reader: Oh no! Never apologize for an emergency. A loved one getting hurt is a terrible thing. Do you need someone to talk to??
Jasper: (⁠T⁠T⁠) My grandfather is pretty sick right now too....
Bunny Reader: Oh, Jay - I'm so sorry to hear that. Were you two close?
Jasper: (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠) Heavens no. In all honesty I can't wait for him to die - but talking to you in private would still make me feel good regardless.
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astrophileous · 7 months
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hi !!! can i request literally anything with spencer based on "in a world of boys he's a gentleman"? everytime i hear it on tiktok i just think of him and i physically cannot😭😭 thanks a lot <3
ANON YOUR ✨️MIND✨️!!! I go crazy over any edit of spencer with slut! audio omfg and you're absolutely right, the lyrics scream HIM SO MUCH 😭🫶 Thanks for the request lovely ❤️ btw some parts of this are kinda similar to details of my other blurbs but you know what? idc 🥰 I hope you still enjoy it tho &lt;3
Warning(s): fem!reader, minor injury (scrapped knee), reader being stood up, profanities
This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.
Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
You turned around at the familiar voice. "Spencer? What are you doing here?"
"I'm on the job. Were you inside the club?"
You glanced at the entrance of the establishment behind you. "Yeah, I was. Can you tell me what's going on? Why was everyone evacuated? Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry. We've got things under control." Spencer looked around at the mass of people in your immediate surroundings. "I thought you said you had a date today?"
You shuffled your weight from foot to foot, ducking your head so Spencer couldn't read the embarrassment on your face. "I do. My date, he's—well, he said he saw some of his friends earlier and went to say hi, but then we got evacuated, so..."
Spencer frowned. "He hasn't contacted you yet?"
"No." You looked at your phone again for good measure, hoping that somehow your date had dropped in a text or a missed call in the two minutes since the last time you checked the device, but alas. "Maybe he doesn't have service? The signal on my phone has been terrible as well."
You and Spencer both knew that it was a pathetic excuse, but you were thankful that he chose to brush past it completely.
"Are you cold?" Spencer asked when he saw you shudder. He instantly took off the FBI bomber he was wearing and draped it on your shoulders. "Here. You know you get cold easily. Why didn't you bring a coat?"
Truthfully speaking, you didn't think you would need a coat when you left your place earlier that night. After all, your date was going to drive you from your apartment to the club and back. How were you supposed to know that he was going to stand you up halfway through your date, leaving you alone and freezing in the middle of a sidewalk?
Perhaps the fact that he decided to bring you to a club out of all places for a first date should have been your first red flag all along.
"Better now?" Spencer asked.
"Yes. Thank you, Spencer."
Someone bumped against you from behind, and before you could dive head first onto the curb, Spencer caught your fall mid-air. He led you away from the mob of people littering the club entrance with protective arms enveloping your shoulders.
"What happened to your leg?" Spencer asked when he saw the slight limp in your walk.
"Oh, that? I, um, kinda grazed it against the pavement when I fell."
"You fell?!"
"Well—" you winced when a particular step sent a jolt to your limb, "—believe it or not, people can get real physical when they panic, and a sudden PSA to evacuate the premises is apparently the surest way to do it."
"Let me see." Before you could stop him, Spencer was already kneeling in front of you in the middle of the road. He flipped the sheer material of your skirt so he could inspect the damage. "Shit, angel. You're bleeding. Why didn't you say anything?"
Carefully, Spencer ushered you towards the nearest ambulance, sitting you down at the back before requesting a first aid kit from the paramedic.
"Need help with that?" the paramedic asked.
"No, thank you. I've got her."
The way Spencer said the phrase made your entire insides heat up all at once. It didn't help that for the following minutes, you had to endure all the gentle ministrations Spencer was doing to treat your scraped knee. You were both glad and mournful when Spencer finished dressing the wound, your skin tingling with the aftermath of his delicate touches.
Spencer took a seat right next to you. "Still no word from your date?"
"No." You sighed. "I don't even wanna think about him right now. Should've trusted my instinct and not go on this stupid date in the first place."
"Why did you go anyway?"
"I didn't feel right canceling just like that. Deirdre went through great trouble setting it up for me."
Deirdre, bless her heart, was your best friend and closest confidant. She was also the person who arranged this blind date for you because she was, quote-unquote, tired of seeing you pining over a certain FBI agent with an IQ of 187.
"For a certified genius, he's sure as hell real dumb if he hasn't figured out how you feel about him by now," Deirdre had said once upon a time.
So, like the good friend that she was, Deirdre set this blind date in hopes that you would finally stop moping around and start moving on instead.
"Your date is a friend of Deirdre's?" Spencer questioned.
"No, no, no. I think he's a coworker of her sister's husband or something? Anyway, thought I'd at least show up and have fun, y'know? I didn't expect that I would be the one getting stood up."
Spencer clenched his jaw. "Well, you can tell Deirdre that her sister's husband's coworker is a brainless dickhead."
"Spencer!" You wanted to reprimand him, but the giggles that broke through betrayed your intention completely. "You don't know that. You've never even met the guy."
"Don't need to. He's got to be the biggest idiot in the world to have the audacity to stand you up when he should be thanking you for even giving him the time of day in the first place."
Your stomach churned into knots. "You appraise me way too highly, Spencer."
"I appraise you exactly as you deserve." Spencer's shoulder bumped against yours. Even under the layers of clothes you were wearing, your skin still managed to burn. "I wish you could see that."
His words washed over you like a high tide. Spencer was the only one who held such power in the world; the power to render you compliant just by the utterance of several words.
It should have been terrifying.
"Do you want to go home?" Spencer offered as he rose to his feet. "C'mon. I'll drive you."
"What? But your case—"
"They'll be fine without me."
You followed him to one of the parked SUVs several paces ahead. Spencer meandered for a minute towards a group of people whom you could only assume was his team. You offered a small wave and an awkward smile when their gazes slithered your way.
"I feel bad for taking you away like this," you admitted once Spencer returned. He had tendrils of curly hair falling down his forehead, and it took every willpower you had not to reach out and stroke them away.
"It's fine. They understand. We all cover each other all the time when one of us has more urgent things to do."
You were 100% certain that taking you home should not have been categorized as "more urgent things to do". After all, Spencer was a federal agent working a federal case, and you could've easily taken the metro or a taxi back to your place. If it had been any other person with you at that moment—if it had been any other guy—you doubted they would have gone through all those troubles for you.
But Spencer was different.
In a world of boys, Spencer Reid was a gentleman.
He opened the car door for you before getting himself into the driver's seat. The drive back to your apartment lasted a little over twenty minutes. You stared at the building outside your window before turning to face Spencer.
"I'm sorry again for hindering you from your job."
"Are you seriously just gonna keep apologizing to me?"
You grinned. "Maybe. Unless, well, you'd let me treat you to lunch sometimes. Or dinner. Whatever works for you."
Spencer chuckled. "Deal. Just text me when and where, okay?"
You bid your goodbye and exited the SUV. Just before you could close the door, though, Spencer suddenly called out your name.
You bent down and peered inside the car. "Yes?"
Spencer assessed you in silence before looking away. "Nothing. Just... don't forget to brush your teeth."
"Brush my teeth? Who are you? My mom?"
Spencer waved you off when you started to laugh.
"Goodnight, Spencer," you said one last time, slamming the car door and heading towards the entrance of your building.
Spencer's heart stirred as he watched you walk away. "Goodnight, angel."
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silent-stories · 1 year
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟏
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Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Dustin convinces Eddie, who is always watching you from a distance, to talk to you.
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Eddie hated the way his gaze was always looking for you in the school parking lot, hoping you'd arrived a few minutes early so he could watch you from afar.
He couldn't stop it, he could try to hold back but it was useless, he always found himself looking around hoping to hear your laugh at something stupid that Buckley, who you usually drove to school in your car, had said.
Eddie wasn't the shy type: he walked the cafeteria tables making speeches and always said what he thought. But with you?
All he could do was watch you from afar.
"Dude, you're doing it again." Dustin's voice distracted Eddie from his usual search.
"Doing what?" he asked, sounding a lot more guilty than he intended.
He had been caught.
"You are looking for Y/N." The boy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Why would I?" Eddie shrugged as if to dismiss the conversation before leaning back against his van.
"Because you like her."
"What? No, absolutely not. We're…I don't even know if she considers me a friend. We're acquaintances. We just know each other. We only have one class together and we've only talked a few times so-"
Three times.
It had been exactly three times you had spoken to Eddie, he remembered them all very well, as well as the way his heart started beating so much faster than usual.
The first time you bumped into him in the hallway. Eddie had initially thought it was someone who did it on purpose, as it usually happened with jogs, but when he heard your immediate apology and from the way you said it was your fault, he understood that you would never do it on purpose.
He quickly realized that you weren't like most of the others at school and that you didn't see him as someone to stay away from and that had only made Eddie fall for you even more.
The second time was during history class, the only one Eddie had with you, that day you arrived five minutes late, having to sit in the only seat left free: the one next to Eddie.
After a few minutes that he had spent sketching in his only notebook trying not to go crazy because of your proximity, you spoke, or rather, whispered.
"I like dragons."
Eddie raised his head as a shy smile appeared on his lips to find your gaze on the dragon he had drawn in his notebook.
He mumbled a "yeah, I like them too" before the teacher turned to you and glared at him.
He didn't say anything for the rest of the lesson but since that day he had always hoped you'd be a few minutes late so you would sit next to him.
It had never happened.
The third time was the only time you really had a conversation with him. You picked up Dustin after a D&D campaign and you spent ten minutes talking to Eddie before you left.
To Eddie's amazement, you two started talking about Metallica. You mentioned that your dad occasionally listened to them and you started the conversation by talking about which songs you knew and which ones you liked more.
Before you left, you talked about how boring math was and how much you enjoyed art class and during all the time you had spent talking a faint smile was permanent on Eddie's lips.
That was all. Only ten minutes.
It had been the shortest ten minutes of his life and Eddie wished you'd stay there and talk to him for hours.
Dustin laughed at the way his friend seemed to lose the ability to form meaningful sentences whenever you were involved.
"Holy shit, you're in love with her."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement.
Eddie sighed, he couldn't deny it anymore. "Henderson, if you tell anyone, consider yourself expelled from the Hellfire Club for the rest of your life."
Dustin adjusted the cap on his head. "Your secret is safe with me. Anyway, Y/N is cool. You should tell her."
Eddie let out a bitter laugh. "For what? To hear her say she wouldn't be with Eddie "the freak" Munson even if I were the last person on the face of the earth? No thanks, I'd rather keep watching her from afar."
"You know she's not like that." Dustin said. "She doesn't judge. Trust me, she was my babysitter for almost three years when I was in middle school, I know her well enough to know that she's a good person, she would never laugh at you and she's a completely badass."
And Eddie knew it. He knew you were kind and funny and so fucking pretty. And that was why the chances he had with you were almost inexistent.
Just as he was about to answer, he saw you.
You walked in his direction, wearing a leather jacket that was a few sizes larger but still looked perfectly on and Eddie nearly felt his heart leap out of his chest.
"Uuh... do you want me to leave you two alone?" Dustin asked with a smirk.
"Don't even try." He retorted, nudging the boy before you reached them.
"Hi" You smiled. "Have you seen Mike by any chance?"
Eddie shook his head. Why were you looking for Wheeler?
"He got into class early, he had to get something." Dustin said.
You rummaged in your bag and pulled out a book. "Nancy was at my house yesterday and she forgot this, could you give it to Mike so he can give it back to her?"
Dustin grabbed the book. "Sure."
"Great. Thank you." You said before a voice called you from behind.
"Y/N, we'll be late for art class!"
Art, right. It was your favorite subject, Eddie remembered that.
But it wasn't Robin who had spoken.
He was a tall boy, with dark blond hair long enough to show his soft curls. His eyes were green and glittered in the morning sun and he was wearing a clean, light blue jacket. His boy-next-door face annoyed Eddie, or maybe it was just the way he was interrupting a moment when he would have a chance to talk to you.
"See you guys." You said before walking towards him.
He put his arm around your shoulders as you walked side by side.
He was your boyfriend.
You had a boyfriend.
Suddenly Eddie was finding it hard to breathe. Of course you had a boyfriend, he'd been a stupid not to think of it before: a girl like you had to have a boyfriend.
And that guy seemed to be the complete opposite of Eddie.
He was also probably rich and had great grades in school. Because those were the kind of guys you liked, right? Certainly not the ones like Eddie. Those who were lucky if they didn't find the words "freak" or "devil" engraved on their locker. Those who had to park further away from school hoping that no one punctured their wheels. The ones who lived in a trailer and had to sell drugs to make ends meet.
"No." Dustin said.
"No what?" He raised his eyebrows, trying to hide his hurt expression.
"He's not her boyfriend, if that's what you're thinking."
"I wasn't thinking about anything at all."
Thank God.
"His name is Aaron Turner. He just moved to Hawkings and he's not Y/N's boyfriend. But he could soon be if you don't talk to her."
"What fool moves to Hawkings?" Eddie asked as his gaze followed your figure walking to school.
You were laughing.
You seemed happy with him.
"What fool doesn't ask the girl he likes out?" Dustin retorted.
Eddie glared at him.
"You said it yourself. 86, your year. Then make it your fucking year and ask her out. Or at least start talking to her and stop looking at her from afar. And try to say things that make sense when she's around."
"I say things that make sense."
Dustin raised his eyebrows.
"Okay, okay."
Since when did he take advice from a fourteen-year-old boy?
But he was going to talk to you.
He had to do it without looking like a complete idiot but he felt he could do it.
Eddie could feel it: 1986 was going to be his year.
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Part 2
Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat
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What's Eight Plus Seven?
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five
Alright y'all. We had the hurt, let's get some comfort started.
-
Steve leans against his door, expecting Eddie to follow him upstairs to continue their argument because Eddie's never been one to back down from an argument as far as Steve can tell, so he's using his weight to keep the door shut. It takes about five minutes of just leaning against the door before he hears a few light knocks on the door. He pretends he didn't hear them and soon starts to hear Eddie monologue-ing on the other side. He thinks he hears a 'sorry' and an 'I fucked up' but he doesn't really tune in until Eddie says something about cancelling Hellfire.
Spinning quickly, he yanks the door open and says, "You better not fucking cancel!"
"What? Don't you, like, want me out of your house?" Eddie looks startled and sounds confused.
"What I want is for the kids to get to play Dungeons and Dorks for an afternoon, just getting to be kids and fight against monsters that can't actually kill them," Steve says as he goes to put his hands on his hips (a move that Robin calls his Bitch Stance) but realizes he can't while still holding a book, so instead he folds his arms across his chest, cradling the book to his body.
He waits for Eddie to call him out for saying dorks instead of dragons, but Eddie just blinks at him, quiet for a moment before he says, "Oh. Uh, okay then. I'll just, uhh, I'll be back closer to noon, then. For the game."
"Don't you have prep to do?" Steve knows he's trying to pick a fight now but he's angry, and sad, and hurt underneath it all. Also, he doesn't understand the change in Eddie suddenly. Ten-ish minutes ago Eddie had shouted back I wasn’t exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even! Where is that anger now?
"No. Not, uh, not really," Eddie says, avoiding meeting Steve's gaze, face turning a very light pink. "I was- I mean, yes, there was prep, but I did a majority of that already and what's left will take maybe three minutes so..."
Steve's confused now, still trying to cling to his anger. "But you called and asked if it was okay to come early specifically for that reason."
Eddie doesn't respond right away. He turns around to walk to the wall opposite Steve's door and thump his forehead against it. Steve is perplexed by the behavior (but he's been perplexed by Eddie since finding him at Reefer Rick's) so he just watches in silence as Eddie heaves a sigh and turns around to slump against the wall, facing Steve once again. He runs a hand through his hair, then drags that hand back forward and down his face. "Yeah. I did do that."
"So, what, you lied? Why?"
"I just wanted to hang out," Eddie whispers, like it almost hurts him to say out loud, which is such a weird thing to hear because it makes Eddie seem small in a way Steve's never seen him. Even during spring break Eddie was never small or quiet; his fear manifested as shouting, for fuck's sake. It chips away at the last of Steve's anger. He's long past the days of kicking someone when they're down.
"You... wanted to hang out," Steve repeats before heaving a sigh of his own, long-suffering man that he is. Maybe it is time to bury the hatchet and actual deal with this. If nothing else, it'll result in Steve being less defensive around Eddie when everyone hangs out, like for movie night or BBQs. Also, he knows that Dustin will never let him know another day of peace once he learns that Eddie and Steve don't get along as well as he wants them to so he says, "Listen, I think we've got some shit to hash out, or whatever, so that should probably be done or, like, things are going to be weird when we all hang out, but I can't do that right now, man. So, stay or go, just make that game happen at noon. I'm going to stay up here."
Eddie nods, weirdly sullen and quiet again, as he says, "Yeah. Umm, maybe after the game? If you're feeling up to it."
"Sure. After."
Eddie raps his knuckles against the wall behind him twice before pushing off and heading back towards the stairs. He pauses to look over his shoulder and say, "If you wanna watch, or listen in, or something, I don't think anyone will mind." And then he's heading down the stairs.
Retreating back to his room, Steve tosses the book onto his bed before flopping face first next to it. He groans into his comforter before reaching for the book. He props himself up on his elbows and stares down at the cover before opening it to see Christopher's handwriting on the inside cover.
It's been years since he thought about Christopher and even longer since he's laid eyes on the books. He was so sure his mom had just gotten rid of them. All this time, they'd been right where he left them, shoved just far enough back to be out of sight on the shelf. His last link to Christopher.
That's not true, Steve scolds himself. His cousins, Amber and Robert, are still alive and in Washington. His grandparents still live on that farm in Michigan. Steve just hasn't seen them since the funeral.
He hadn't gone back to the farm the summer after freshman year, or any year since. His parents thought he was old enough to stay home for a whole month in the summer alone now, instead of paying to ship him off to his grandparents. Steve's old enough now to know that was why he'd spent a month every year out on the farm; so his parents could go off on longer work trips. Once they'd decided Steve was old enough to stay alone for the summer, that quickly reached other seasons and by the time Steve was a junior, the were gone more than they were home.
He doesn't even remember when he last spoke to them in person. He thinks the last phone call was right after Starcourt. It was just to make sure Steve got to job hunting, since his place of employment had burned down and the bills wouldn't pay themselves. Which is true. He doesn't have to pay rent, but all the utilities are in his name now.
Jesus, he doesn't want to be thinking about them.
He goes back to the book, flipping through the pages absently. Halfway through the book he finds a couple folded pieces of paper tucked close to the spine. He doesn't have to open them to know exactly what they are.
It's the character sheets he'd made.
He closes the book back atop them and rolls over to face his ceiling. He wants to call Robin, but the phones are downstairs and he doesn't want to go down there just yet. He also kinda wants to cry. To get rid of all these emotions about Christopher, and Freshman First Day, and Eddie.
Fucking Eddie. Who haunts Steve's thoughts more than he'd like because despite the grudge Steve has been holding, Eddie has been fun to be around and so good with the kids, especially Dustin. Fuck, after having watched Dustin break down when they thought he was dead- but he'd had a pulse. It was weak but it was there.
After Eddie'd been cleared of the charges and the months rolled on into summer, they'd spent lots of time together as a group. Steve will admit he tried to avoid Eddie as best he could (he knows he's petty, okay) but could still see how he blended smoothly into their group.
If this Eddie had been the one he met on Freshman First Day, instead of the dick that mocked him, they might very well be friends now.
That's the crux of it all, Steve thinks. That he wouldn't mind being friends with Eddie if not for that bottled up grudge he'd been holding onto. He can't bring himself to let it go and Steve's not even sure why. Thoughts and feelings aren't something Steve processes quickly, and it usually helps to talk it out with Robin. She lets him stumble through his thoughts, and doesn't mock him for messing up, or mixing up, words.
Goddammit, if he's really going to try talking this out with Eddie, he's going to have be open and honest and maybe a little vulnerable and he doesn't know if he can do that.
But he'll have to. For better or worse, he can't just keep Eddie at arms length. They need to either come to the conclusion that they can be friends, or not, and then go from there. (Also, he knows that Dustin will never let him know another day of peace once he learns that Eddie and Steve don't get along as well as he wants them to.)
In the end, Steve's not sure how long he just stares up at the ceiling but a sudden shout breaks him from his trance. It sounded like Dustin. Hellfire must have started.
Steve leaves his room to go lean against the half wall of the hallway, so he could look down to the dining table where everyone has gathered to play. No one notices him, so Steve sinks to the floor and turns, so he can lean against the wall, closes his eyes, and listens in.
The room below is filled with noise. Shouts of excitement, and groans of pain, and sighs of relief. Dustin yells at his dice when it rolls a Nat 1. Mike curses up a storm over a barely missed perception check that makes the party fall into a surprise round. He hears Lucas whoop happily and then what sounds like him taking several victory laps around the table.
He used to be an imaginative kid, able to easily conjure castle, and knights, and dragons in his mind's eye. Listening to Eddie describe a new location, or NPC, or monster makes it easy to bring that part of himself back. Eddie is descriptive and uses so many voices that Steve would be embarrassed to even attempt. But because Eddie is being descriptive, so is everyone else at the table. Erica has adopted an accent of some sort for her character. Dustin and Will go into great detail describing what they want their character to do. The older members of Hellfire do the same, and one of them is using an Irish accent that if he used while talking to Steve, he'd would think it was his first language.
Steve's not sure how long he sat there, long enough that they've taken a snack break and are back at it again, before he decides he might as well watch, too. He gets up and goes downstairs. There's a pause at the table when he wonders in and plops down on the couch. He makes eye contact with Eddie and offers a small half smile. Eddie grins back, and starts back into the game, pulling everyone's focus.
Watching is interesting. He gets to see the Party jab at each other, or lean over and whisper about something. It's nice, to see them being kids. Having fun.
They end around five and Steve is surprised at how quickly five hours had passed.
"So, Steve, how was watching your first DnD game?" Dustin asks, pausing on his way to the door to do so.
Steve considers teasing him, but he goes for honesty instead. "Pretty interesting. It might not be my last time observing. I gotta see you get killed sometime, right?"
"Rude, Steve. Rude," Dustin is grinning though.
"Tell your mom hi for me, and let me know when she's making pork chops again. I'd like to crash that dinner."
Dustin rolls his eyes and shakes his head but he hugs Steve before leaving. Between all the older Hellfire members, they all have rides home that aren't Steve or Eddie.
Speaking of the latter, he's slowly packing things away at the table. Clearly killing time so it won't look like he's intentionally staying after everyone's gone.
Soon, the house is empty again.
"So, I'm not sure... how to start this conversation," Eddie admits to the silence. He's still at the table, standing behind where he was previously sitting, fiddling with a die. "But, I'm sorry. For that day. You were right, you know? When you said I was lashing out at you first."
"Thanks. For the apology," Steve stands from the couch and moves to the table, toying with the tablecloth instead of looking at Eddie. "I, uhh, I'm not sure where to go from here, either? I spent such a long time angry at you. For pointing out all the things I'm bad at in front of everyone there. For making me feel like an idiot."
"I know. I'm sorry."
Now Steve looks up at Eddie. "You say that, but like, why? Are you sorry because what you did was shitty, or because you want to be my friend now?"
Eddie blinks, apparently thrown by Steve's question.
"Because, like, you were pretty dismissive of Lucas before Spring Break and he helped save your life. So, it's like, are you okay with being shitty if the people you hurt aren't people you like? 'Cause I used to be that way, and I'm not going to be friends with someone who is."
"Yeah, no, you're right," Eddie nods. "For all that I scream about conformity, and how stupid it is, I've been rather quick to dismiss everyone outside my own... group. I held rather close to that nerds verses jocks crap for too long. Lucas is a jock, but he's also a nerd, and so very loyal to his friends. And you- you're really fucking awesome."
"I am," Steve interrupts with a cheeky grin.
"Ass. But yeah, you're pretty awesome, and I've been feeling all fucked up today because, we could have been friends, couldn't we? In high school. If I'd just let you take the damn flier and kept my mouth shut."
"Hey, that's not all on you," Steve says. "I would have still joined the basketball team, and the swim team. And, like, I was so desperate for any shred of attention from my parents that I would never have picked Hellfire over sports meetups. I could have joined and still ended up a bully by sophomore year."
"Well, I didn't help-"
"I made those choices, Eddie. And it doesn't matter because it's in the past. So, like, we can just move forward. Start over, or whatever."
Eddie looks him up and down before giving one sharp nod, then breaking out into a wide grin, sticking his hand out for a handshake. "Hi. Name's Eddie Munson."
Steve laughs, reaching out to shake Eddie's hand. "Steve Harrington."
"Great, pleasure to meet you. Do you wanna hang out? We can play 20 questions. Get to know each other."
"Sure," Steve chuckles, extracting his hand from Eddie's. "Let me order some pizza first."
First time hanging out with Eddie alone. Guess they'll find out if they can be friends after all.
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neptuneiris · 3 months
Text
could you pretend to be in love? (06/10)
The Connection
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: an unexpected person from the past shows up and there is a family dinner to attend, resulting in disastrous thoughts and difficult decisions.
word count: 8.9k
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the chapter is finally here!
sorry it took me so long, if you didn't see my last post go do it and you'll know why👀 but we can put it behind us now and I'm excited to tell you that the next chapter will finally give us that next level we've been waiting for so long!
I really hope it won't take me that long but for now, let's enjoy this new chapter and as always, I'll be very anxious to read your comments🥰
enjoy!
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The day of the dinner is slowly approaching.
And you still don't feel completely sure about it. However, despite your doubts and worries, you haven't backed out.
Mostly you think about what you're going to tell Aemond's mother by way of ruining things out of nervousness. Of course he should have already given her information about the relationship, but you're worried that she'll ask you questions and you won't know how to answer.
But that's not the reason she wants to get to know you… is it?
You think she probably just wants to know more about you, your likings, your non likings, your aspirations in life, your dreams, your family and things related to that.
Right?
You just hope so.
You've never done this before, meeting a guy's parents, ever. And you just get more nervous and feel more pressure knowing that Aegon and Helaena will be there too.
As well as you also feel guilty about the fact that they all think that you and Aemond are for real and you're just going to go there and convince them and assure them that you and Aemond are crazy about each other… when it's not true.
Now it's Thursday, tomorrow is dinner and Aemond doesn't seem at all concerned about it, when your thoughts are being completely tormented with it.
Still, you listen attentively to his words as you put away some books in your locker and he's standing next to you, leaning against the lockers, with the Romeo and Juliet book in his hands.
"Why did you make me read this shit? It's too hard to read and I don't like it," he says longingly.
You look away from your books to him and place a small amused smile on your lips at the sight of his face.
"It's like poetry and I don't like poetry, I don't understand it," he says frustrated, "I don't understand any of the weird rhyming they say."
"Well, Shakespeare has a unique way of expressing himself."
"Yeah, but what does he mean by 'My lips, two humble blazons, are ready to seal with a kiss softly'?" he recites reading the phrase with his brows furrowed and you let out a small laugh.
"Shakespeare loved beauty in words, even if it meant complicating things a bit."
"Yeah but why can't he just kiss her and be done with it without saying these weird words that give me cringe?"
"Come on," you give him an incredulous look, "It's romantic. The whole book is romantic with a tragic ending."
"This is definitely not romantic," he says incredulously and shaking his head, "It's weird, boring and makes me want to puke."
You look at him with a pout.
"You're not romantic at all."
"Excuse me?"
He immediately comes to defend himself, staring at you incredulously and completely indignant.
"I can be extremely romantic, thank you very much."
You raise your hands in a gesture of surrender, with a small smile as you see the spark of amusement in his gaze.
"You of all people should know that, you've witnessed it and you're the reason I do it mostly," he adds.
"But that's not… you know," you give him an expectant, knowing look.
"It's still romantic."
"No, it's not," you say with a laugh.
At your playful response, still busy at your locker, you don't notice and Aemond suddenly approaches. He takes your chin with one of his hands gently but firmly enough, causing you to look up at him, catching you off guard.
"What did you just say, my love?" he asks with a mischievous smile and amusement in his gaze, appearing serious and warning.
He brings his face closer to yours with a demanding gaze and your heart begins to pound as you let yourself be carried away by his proximity.
It is clear that he is going to kiss you, what does this mean if not kiss you? So you watch him expectantly and with your face lifted towards him, really looking forward to the sweet contact, your lips inches from his.
But first Aemond looks around briefly, wanting to make sure that some students in the hallway are watching you. When then, you see that he is overlooking a specific spot in the hallway.
You see how there is a slight glint in his eye and then he no longer moves.
You frown slightly, waiting. And before you can say or do anything, Aemond suddenly pulls away.
Confusion overtakes you and he clears his throat by averting his gaze, then smiles softly at you as if he wasn't about to kiss you seconds ago.
"Then I'll be more romantic next time," he says, taking his distance from you, as if trying to minimize the tense moment you've just shared.
Was he going to kiss you or not?
You can't just tell him to kiss you either, that he was going to, since this isn't real but… the change in his behavior confuses you, you don't quite understand what just happened and you don't know what to say.
"I have to go to the field now," he tells you, averting his gaze for a moment before looking at you again, "I'll see you in class, okay?"
"Hum… yeah, yeah, okay," you nod, still confused.
He gives you one last smile and before leaving, he gives your shoulder a light squeeze with his hand, another gesture that catches you off guard. Without a kiss on your forehead or cheek, as he usually does, he walks away.
You stand in the hallway, watching him go, with a mix of emotions you can't help but feel confused, uncertain and... disappointed.
Questions swirl around in your mind, but you don't have any answers. So shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you close your locker door and head to your next class.
Eventually you continue to run into him and he acts normal, as usual. He sits next to you in class, does the teacher's requested activities with you, and walks with you through the halls to the next class.
And everything is…normal, in a way.
Although he's still being kind and attentive, he's not being as affectionate as usual.
You can see how he's distracted, deep in thought from time to time, something is on his mind, something that you have no idea what it is but that keeps you alert, confused and makes you feel completely different from previous days.
You sense that the dynamic between you today has changed somehow, leaving you feeling bewildered.
And you don't know why.
Although it's not until break time that you find yourself sitting at a table alone, still feeling this awkwardness, when Alysanne comes in and drops the big bombshell on you that makes all the sense in the world.
"Why are you here eating so casually when I just saw your boyfriend catching up with his other ex-girlfriend?"
You raise your gaze to her almost instantly, with a mixture of surprise and confusion, a knot forming in your stomach as the weight of her words settle on your shoulders.
"What?"
"Yeah, Floris Baratheon," she says, then looks at you slightly confused, "How did you not know this?"
"What?" you repeat, not understanding.
"Floris Baratheon," she repeats to you slowly and clearly, "Dark hair, not as tall and certainly not as bitchy as Alys but still she falls into the category of girls who are superficial and think they are better than other girls," she explains to you.
Confusion lingers in your gaze, for despite the explanation, you still don't remember anything about a girl named Floris Baratheon at school.
"You really don't know who she is? Aemond didn't tell you about her?" asks Alysanne incredulously and your face answers her questions, "She transferred schools for a semester and just returned this morning. She and Aemond weren't actually dating but they had a thing when he and Alys broke up for like the twelfth time."
Your mind whirls as you process the information.
Honestly you had no idea about Floris' existence back in your invisibility days at school. Therefore, you also had no idea that she and Aemond had ever had any kind of relationship.
However… there is something you have an idea of at the moment.
This is why Aemond acted weird with you this morning, because of her. He must have seen her in the hallway and his demeanor changed completely.
"I-I didn't know that," you admit in a soft, low voice, trying to hide the uneasiness that is starting to creep up on you.
"Well, it's weird that Aemond didn't tell you anything, especially since I saw the two of them so comfortable and happy talking," she lets you know, "And I'm not telling you this with any malice or to make you feel bad, it's just that I think you should know, even though I thought you already knew."
You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling a surge of emotions wash over you that you can't quite explain, nor can you avoid.
You're not sure what to think or how to react to this, but one thing is for sure; things between you and Aemond are likely to get complicated.
But what can you really do?
You and he aren't really dating. What's the point of asking him about it when it's really none of your business? Besides if he didn't talk to you about it before, when he saw her, it must be for this very reason.
You have no right here, even if you feel this.
"Do you want to get out of here?" asks you Alysanne later, noticing your face and probably everything that is invading your mind.
And soon enough, she takes you to the rooftop of the school, outdoors, where you just sit and watch the sky and listen to her while she smokes a cigarette, talking to you about Cregan being around her lately.
But as much as you want to give her your full attention and corroborate what she is telling you, you can't.
The rest of the classes are without Aemond, since you don't share them with him, and when the school day ends, still not knowing exactly whether to wait for him to drive you home or not, you head for the exit of the building, deep in thought.
"Hey."
You feel a hand grab your shoulder and when you turn your head without stopping moving forward, you find Aemond standing next to you.
"Hi," you reply softly, turning your gaze back to the front.
And he at your side gives you an attentive, curious and slightly confused look.
"Are you okay? I didn't see you at break," he says softly, "I also texted you and you didn't respond."
"Oh," your mind goes blank for a moment, "I was with Alysanne on the roof. She was talking to me about some things."
"Hmm," he nods, still watching you between a mixture of attentive and curious.
Then the two of you say nothing more, with the silence loud between the two of you and that tension emanating from your body, when you speak again.
"Are you going to drive me home today?" you decide to ask him, watching him, with that hesitation in your tone of voice and look.
And he frowns, watching you blankly.
"I always drive you."
You are about to speak but a third voice does it for you, stopping your steps and also Aemond's.
"Aem!"
The two turn their heads and there she is, Floris Baratheon.
Black hair, brown eyes, slender and absolutely beautiful features. She approaches with a smile, showing off her perfect, aligned teeth.
Everything about her screams money, as well as elegance, from her perfectly coiffed hair to her impeccable designer clothes and accessories.
And the moment she catches both your attention and Aemond's, you notice how he beside you tenses slightly.
"Hey," she gives him a charming smile and her full attention, placing herself in front of him, "The guys are going to get something to eat, I was just told. Do you want to join us? We can take off in your car and catch up some more."
"Hum…" he is silent for a moment, shooting you a nervous glance, scratching the back of his neck.
And throwing you another glance, this finally catches Floris' attention and she notices your presence as well.
"Oh… hi," she smiles softly at you.
Despite your nerves and how uncomfortable you're starting to feel, you force yourself to smile as kindly and genuinely as possible.
"Hi."
"I'm sorry, I don't think I know you," she tells you in an exaggeratedly kind tone of voice.
And this too finally gets Aemond to react.
"Yeah, right, that's my fault," he says trying to act nonchalant and completely relaxed, "Floris, this is Y/N, m-my girlfriend."
You watch as she parts her lips and her surprise is evident as she looks at Aemond and then turns her attention back to you.
"I-I didn't find the moment to tell you."
You instantly observe Aemond, with a look that even you can't explain and he suddenly can't control his nervous gestures anymore, giving a wary glance to you and then to Floris.
"Oh."
She turns her gaze back to you and though she tries to hide her surprise, the strength of her smile seems a bit forced as she holds out her hand to you.
"I'm Floris, nice to meet you."
And within everything you're feeling right now, like awkwardness and feeling out of place, you still shake your hand with hers.
"Nice to meet you."
Tension is in the air and Aemond looks hesitant for a moment. And you continue to feel like an intruder between them, getting in between the interaction of two people sharing a history you don't fully know about.
When Aemond speaks again.
"Floris is my…
He tries to tell you, but his words are left floating in the air.
Suddenly you see how he struggles and searches his mind for a way to introduce you to the girl he had a thing with in the past, only according to him, you don't know that, when certainly Alysanne already took care of it.
And just like you, you too feel Floris' anticipation, waiting for him to introduce her.
"An old friend," he finally says.
Floris arches an eyebrow slightly at Aemond's introduction, her lips curving into a smile that seems to contain more than just politeness.
"Yes, that," she punctuates, with a knowing look that to you does not go unnoticed, "Well, I just wanted to know if you were free for this afternoon. Although if you want you can bring your girlfriend with us," she proposes.
Aemond takes a moment to respond, averting his gaze as he scratches the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.
And that's when you decide to speak.
"You can go with them," you tell him and that immediately gets his attention and hers, "I can just take the bus or something and I'll see you later," you say to start walking away from both of them.
His attention and slight surprise is most visible on his face, but before you can move too far away, he grabs your hand and advances towards you.
"What? No" he immediately inquires, "No, I'll take you home."
The determination in his tone of voice and in his gaze makes you feel a little more comforted, but still, you can't shake this uneasiness in you about Floris' presence.
And that's when Aemond turns to her again without letting go of your hand.
"Sorry Floris, another time," he tells her in his firmer, slightly strained voice.
And she nods with a sympathetic look, though you can't help but sense there's something else behind her expression.
"Of course, I understand, it'll be for next time then," she says, before turning to you, "It was nice meeting you, Y/N."
And finally she is the first to walk away.
You exchange a look you can't quite describe with Aemond and feel the awkwardness and seriousness linger between the two of you, even as the two of you leave the building and make your way to his car.
And once in the passenger seat and with Aemond driving through the city streets, you find yourself fiddling with your fingers in your lap, still feeling the awkwardness in the air.
You don't understand exactly what's got you right now but you can't even see Aemond out of the corner of your eye, so you keep your gaze focused straight ahead and on the side where the window is.
"Are you okay?"
You suddenly hear his voice speak softly to you, feeling his gaze on you from time to time and you squirm a little in your seat before you speak, swallowing hard.
"Yeah, all good," you say, trying to sound convincing.
He exhales deeply, noticing your distance again.
"I'm sorry if the Floris thing made you uncomfortable. S-she…" he sighs, "She's truly a childhood friend. We had something in the past but it was very brief and it's no longer relevant."
And although there is nothing wrong with his words, you still can't help but feel a slight knot in your stomach. And you act completely unconcerned.
"I understand," you say simply, in a soft voice and still without looking at him.
But this is not convincing to Aemond, who licks his lips and can't help but worry about the situation.
"I mean it."
"Aemond," you call him softly, finally looking at him, "I understand, I really do," you assure him, "I also meant it when I said you should go eat with her and your friends. You seemed very uncomfortable and there was no problem from me."
He nods slowly, but still looks a little uneasy.
"I just didn't expect I was going to see her again."
And you don't know if that's worse.
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"Are you ready?"
Oh God, are you?
"I don't know," you answer honestly, nervously, looking at your outfit.
For this occasion you chose a pair of pants, ankle boots and a white tank top with a black jacket over it. You don't look overdressed but decent for the occasion, along with your makeup and hairstyle.
"Hey, easy," he says softly, placing both hands on your shoulders, "It's going to be okay. Besides we won't be alone, Aegon and Hel will be with us."
"Yeah but that's not what I'm worried about," you clarify, playing with your fingers, "What if I ruin everything?" you ask watching him fearfully, "What if everyone realizes that we're not really dating because of me?"
"I'll take care of that, don't worry," he assures you, with his soft gaze, "You just have to corroborate everything I say and stick to the main story. Other than that, my mother will just ask you questions about you to get to know you better."
"Are you sure?" you ask, not entirely convinced.
"Very," he affirms you, conveying calmness and assurance in his voice.
"You've done this before?" you can't help but ask, still with some hesitation, "I mean…" you lick your lips, nervous, "You've brought a girl before to dinner with your family?"
He is silent for a moment, as if considering how to answer, as the implication is clear because that's not the real question, you know that too.
Rather it is: have you ever brought Alys to dinner with your family before?
"Yes," he finally admits in a murmur, sincerely, "Yes, I have."
You stare at him silently, without the two of you saying anything else, only to look away and nod, again trying to look unconcerned, trying to calm your nerves further.
"My mother never liked her," he says later, again attracting your attention, "You know, Alys."
Again, you say nothing for a few moments, just lick your lips and nod.
"I understand."
Aemond lets out a heavy breath and takes a step towards you, lowering one of his hands to take one of yours, gently rubbing his thumb against the back of yours, this also immediately catching your attention, as you see him looking at you for a moment thoughtfully.
"Are you ready now?" he asks you softly, raising his gaze to you, "We can stay here a while longer if you want."
"No," you reply immediately, "No, I don't want to make everyone wait for us," you release a long breath, calming your nerves, "I'm ready now."
He places a small comforting smile on his lips.
"You'll do fine, trust me," he assures you then moves closer to you and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, just like at school.
His action definitely catches you off guard and you look at him slightly surprised, but Aemond doesn't give it that much importance, as if it was already a natural and routine thing between both of you, like a gesture of encouragement, to then take you by the hand together with him to the entrance of his house.
His house is nice and big, with a beautiful garden, so when you open the door, you see a huge and cozy living room with the dining room visible in the background, where you can make out Aegon's figure and his short silver hair.
Aemond closes the door behind you and you briefly look around, seeing the decorations of the elegant house, such as mirrors, flowers vases and also family photos.
Mostly, you see pictures of young children, which you recognize as Helaena, Aemond, Aegon and his other brother, Daeron.
There are also photos of what you assume is their mother and also a man, who you assume is the father, with Aemond and his siblings as children. But it strikes you that none of the four are smiling, just the mom a little.
There are more current pictures, only of Aemond, Helaena and Aegon smiling next to their mother, with no trace of their father and Daeron.
"He's my younger brother," he takes a single photo of a boy, standing next to you and handing it to you, "Daeron."
And just as you imagined, he's a boy of about fifteen with striking blue eyes and short silver hair, smiling at the camera with a bright face and looking in the background like he's standing in a lake at Honeyholt.
"Helaena was right," you say with a small smile, still inspecting the photo, "He really is the handsomest of the three of you."
"That's not true," he tells you immediately, taking the photo out of your hands and putting it back in its place with a quick, automatic gesture, making you laugh.
"What's up, bro?"
You both hear Aegon's voice and turn around, with the silver-haired man already walking towards you with a bottle of beer in his hand and a huge grin on his face.
"Are you drinking already?" Aemond inquires, "Mom's going to kill you."
"Oh, you know how persuasive I can be," he tells him without wiping off his smile, "Besides, I've already set the table," he points to the dining room, "It's dinner, bro."
"Careful," he warns you but he deliberately ignores him, heading in your direction.
"Y/N!" he exclaims your name smiling, coming over to embrace you, "Welcome to our home."
"Hi Aegon," you smile back at him.
He envelops you in a hug and you reciprocate cordially, instantly the strong smell of beer reaching your nostrils.
"Want one?" he points to the beer in his hand as he pulls away from you.
"I don't think so," Aemond answers him, again intertwining his hand with yours, "Where's mom?"
"In the kitchen with Hel" he points out, "Tell them to hurry, I'm starving," he says in a tone of voice that catches your attention.
But Aemond pulls you forward, starting to leave him behind, with a serious and disapproving look at his brother's attitude.
"It's the beer," he explains to you quietly, "I hate it when he drinks at home. I just hope it doesn't get unbearable later."
"Why?" you ask him, curious.
He shakes his head.
"Aegon is… complicated."
He doesn't say anything else and neither do you, mostly because he leads you toward the kitchen, but curiosity still lingers on that subject.
He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in a supportive gesture that comforts you as you both cross the threshold into the kitchen, where instantly the smell of delicious freshly baked food hits your nostrils.
And the first thing you notice is a silver hair along with a darker one, who you assume must be Aemond's mother.
And immediately your nerves again explode and you feel your heart pounding hard in your chest.
"Hey, Y/N!"
A friendly voice says to you, being Helaena, who is wiping her hands with a clean dish towel and wearing a beautiful blue dress, instantly heading towards you with open arms.
"Hi Hel," you smile back happily, hugging her enthusiastically.
"Oh I'm so happy you're in our home," she says excitedly and warmly without letting go of you, "We've prepared turkey, I hope you like it," she says as she pulls away from you.
"Oh I'm sure it will," you nod at her with a sincere smile, feeling welcomed by the warmth of her welcome.
"Mom."
Aemond's voice momentarily pulls you out of your conversation with Helaena and you turn your head to meet the gaze of Alicent, Aemond's mother.
Instantly you try to control your nerves and keep your composure, remembering his comforting words.
And when Alicent's gaze meets yours, a warm smile forms on his lips, which makes you feel less nervous and conveys a sense of calm. Although the nervousness lingers, you feel a little more secure with his kindness.
Aemond places a comforting hand on your shoulder and steps forward to introduce you.
"This is my girlfriend, Y/N," he points to you with his small smile, "And Y/N, this is my mom, Alicent."
She is a very beautiful woman.
It's the first thing that comes to your mind, noting the dimples in her cheeks and that warm look she has, not being intimidating at all and being rather kind.
Besides the dark green dress she wears is completely beautiful, as well as her accessories. Everything about her radiates elegance and poise.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, my dear," she says, turning to you, "Gosh, I was so excited to meet you. It's so nice of you to come."
And without expecting it, just like Helaena, she too greets you with a hug, taking you completely off guard, causing you to let out a nervous little laugh as you hug her back.
"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Hightower," you say softly, feeling slightly overwhelmed by her kindness and warmth.
"Please call me Alicent," she says as she pulls away from you.
Before all this you asked Aemond what to call her, just for the heck of it and to feel less nervous and he told you 'Hightower', the last name of her father.
So you assume that Aemond's father is not someone who gets mentioned much around here. In the family photos he is present in only one picture. And Aemond doesn't talk about him either.
And he watches with a small smile at the interaction between you and his mother, feeling relieved that things are going well so far.
"Please go and take your seats. Dinner will be served soon," she says to Aemond and you.
"Do you need help?" he asks her.
"I'm already doing it myself," Hel says, "Don't worry, little brother."
"Can you help me with your brother, please," Alicent tells him, with a look of slight concern.
"Of course," he assures her in a gentle tone.
Soon the two of you return to the dining room, the two of you take a seat together with Aegon and Aemond tries to tell him not to overdo it with his drinks, that you are here to enjoy a nice dinner with his family.
But he just makes nonchalant gestures and tells him that everything is fine, to continue drinking, looking at the screen of his phone, waiting for dinner.
Then you don't know how much time passes exactly but Alicent returns very soon along with Helaena with the food, placing the dishes in the center of the table, indicating that all this will start soon.
Aemond places his hand on top of yours underneath the table, giving you every supportive gesture possible, reassuring you at every turn that he can that all will be fine.
Every brush of his fingers against yours conveys reassurance and comfort.
You feel a slight relief as you feel his touch, reminding you that you are not alone at this moment and his presence gives you strength to face any nervousness that may arise during dinner.
And with the food finally served, the silverware begins to clink against the plate glass as everyone begins to enjoy the delicious dinner.
Aemond, like the supposed boyfriend in love with you, is totally attentive to you, asking if you're served this or that, wanting to make sure you're well received and comfortable to make this more bearable.
And you thank him all the way, feeling his mother's gaze on both of you from time to time, without wiping away her warm smile.
"Did you like the food, dears?" she asks generally.
"Oh yes," Helaena says with a look of total complicity, delighting in the food.
"It's delicious, Mom," Aemond tells her later.
"Totally," you corraborate politely, nodding in her direction.
Alicent smiles in satisfaction and then turns her attention to Aegon, who hasn't said anything since everyone started eating.
"How about you, son?" she asks him softly.
"It's fine," he says curtly, taking a huge swig from his bottle of beer.
This definitely gets your attention but Alicent as well as Aemond and Helaena decide not to give it enough attention, as if they're already used to it and don't want to ruin the moment by his behavior.
But you do notice the disapproval in each of their looks, especially the disappointment in Alicent. Though she almost instantly turns her attention away from Aegon to Aemond and you.
"So, how long have you two been dating exactly?" she asks curiously and without losing the kindness in her gaze and tone.
"A month," Aemond replies without hesitation at your side, resting one of his arms on the back of your chair.
And Alicent shakes his head with a small smile on his lips.
"And I still can't believe he kept you hidden from me, Y/N."
You smile in his direction, trying not to let your nerves give you away, as Aemond again interjects, with a soft look.
"We didn't want to rush things."
"I told him not to take too long to tell you," Helaena says as well, pointing at Aemond as she watches her mother.
"But he didn't tell me anything, Aegon did," Alicent says in amusement.
"Oh come on, I was going to tell you anyway," Aemond tries to justify himself.
"Oh you were going to?" Hel questions him.
"You want to turn her against me."
"I'm just telling the truth, little brother."
This causes Alicent to laugh softly and his gaze meets yours, where you laugh softly too, as the fight between Aemond and Hel continues. But this causes you to begin to feel comfortable and more at ease with the whole situation.
The only thing at the table that is completely serious is Aegon, who continues to concentrate on his drink and the food in front of him.
His reserved attitude contrasts with the energy you have with Aemond, his mother and sister, but they don't really give him much attention and everyone continues to enjoy the delicious food and create topics of conversation.
"So…" Alicent begins to speak, watching you with her warm gaze, "What are your college plans, sweetie?"
Oh my God.
Okay, it's happening.
You think as you slowly start to panic, but quickly get yourself under control, settling back in your seat.
"You're all graduating soon," she points to her kids with a small smile.
And you're about to speak but someone else does first.
"Which wouldn't be the case if Aegon hadn't repeated year… twice," Hel says condescendingly, pouring herself more food in a casual gesture.
"Helaena," Alicent reprimands her in a soft tone.
"Don't start with me."
Aegon's voice finally makes itself heard in a long time, speaking in a cold, curt tone, not even observing his sister, focused on his food.
"Just saying," Helaena says also with a pout in his direction.
"Then speak for yourself. You're a year behind too."
"Ugh," she sighs, "You talk like you don't know what happened."
"That's enough," Alicent says calmly, watching you both with a look of silent warning.
The atmosphere tenses slightly and all is silent for a moment, as you notice how Aemond next to you only runs a hand over his chin and you only hear the clink of silverware clattering against glass plates.
Alicent then turns his gaze to you and there you decide to speak, hoping to restore comfort to the atmosphere.
"Well, actually, I've applied to Oldtown University," you say with a soft smile, controlling your nerves, "I'm planning on getting into law school."
Surprise flashes across Alicent's face, as you briefly feel Aemond watching you beside you.
"Oh, wow," she nods slowly, her expression one of amazement, "What a coincidence, that's the same college Aemond wants to go to."
Aemond nods with a small smile, completely keeping up appearances.
"Yes," he confirms, "In fact it's perfect for us to go to the same place after graduation."
And just to show more affection with you, he places his hand and yours intertwined on top of the table, watching you with that 'love' he seeks to convey in these moments in front of his mother.
And Alicent watches you both with her soft smile, but is still intrigued by you.
"And why that choice? Law is something you always wanted to study?" she asks you, with genuine interest in her voice.
You try not to focus too much on the way Aemond's thumb begins to gently caress the skin on the back of your hand, which at the same time also reassures you.
And you nod in Alicent's direction.
"Yes, it's something I've always been interested in. It's a very heavy degree with very dense material, but it's very interesting and it's long been what I've decided for myself."
Alicent nods in your direction, listening to you intently and looking completely interested.
"And I guess at Oldtown it's a great opportunity to want to study law."
"Oh yes," you say eagerly, "Oldtown has one of the best faculties with very capable professors and all the material you need. It's certainly a great opportunity."
"But I also think that getting to study at such an in-demand university with few places in that major can be difficult," she tells you corroborating in conversation.
"Yeah, that's the bad thing, but…" you shrug, "I'm hopeful."
You watch subtly beside you, focusing for a moment on Aemond, speaking with that complicit tone, as of course he doesn't forget that the reason you're here doing this is precisely because of Oldtown.
He knows that all too well too.
"And your parents are supportive of your decision to study law?"
Slight surprise passes across your face, definitely not expecting that question, but you quickly manage to soften your face, though you still remain silent for a moment.
You try to hide any trace of bewilderment as you search for a suitable answer. And it is Alicent's same warm gaze that encourages you to respond.
"Uh… yes, my father is just as excited as I am about this possible opportunity," you reply with a small smile, being honest, "He has always supported me in all my decisions."
You respond without saying anything else and with sincerity, not mentioning anything about your mother.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he nods at you and smiles warmly, "And what about your mother, dear?" she asks with genuine curiosity.
Inevitably your whole body tenses at that moment. And an uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you think again about how to respond.
You honestly didn't expect the conversation to get to this point, about how even after talking only about your father, you're still being asked about your mother.
And for a moment, you don't know what to say or what to do, but you finally decide to react after everything falls into an awkward silence and they begin to look at you slightly confused by your lack of response.
Until you decide to be honest.
"Well, I-I…" you bite your lips, "I don't actually live with her," you admit in a soft voice, avoiding eye contact for a moment, "And I haven't seen her since I was six."
Slight concern crosses Alicent's face, instantly watching you in regret.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie," she says sincerely, embarrassed to have caused you discomfort, "I had no idea. I apologize."
You're about to tell her it's okay, that it's no problem because she didn't know, that it's no big deal, but you don't even get a chance to speak when sudden laughter is heard throughout the dining room.
The tension in the air dissipates in that instant as everyone turns to the source of the laughter, Aegon.
He is visibly drunk, but still conscious enough to know what is going on around him and that is what is alarming.
Alicent, Helaena and Aegon's faces fill with bewilderment and disapproval, except for yours, as you watch Aegon in confusion, not quite understanding what is going on.
"Aegon," Alicent calls to him now truly annoyed, watching him seriously and reproachfully.
But Aegon barely manages to contain his laughter as he apologizes between laughs.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it," he mutters, his tone full of amusement and insolence.
Then Aemond at your side watches him completely serious, his jaw clenched and his gaze dark, holding back his fury at his reaction after you shared a very intimate and sensitive piece of information to you.
And Aegon laughs at it because of his own stupidity? Of course he's not going to allow that.
"What's so funny?" he inquires, expectant and about to explode.
Aegon straightens in his chair, a smirk on his face.
"Oh, nothing," he replies mockingly, "I just think she and you are perfect for each other. Apparently, we're not the only ones who have parental issues, are we?"
He asks watching his mother and sister, which makes Alicent feel even more tense, watching you worried and apologetic about the little show her eldest son is putting on.
"That's enough," she reprimands him firmly.
But Aegon seems determined to move on and turns to you again with a gesture of camaraderie, ignoring his mother's words and his brother's attitude.
"Don't worry, Y/N," he tells you with a crooked smile, "You can talk about it here and no one will judge you. All of us would understand, wouldn't we? We who wouldn't know about the subject of fucking neglectful parents with their kids."
Aemond's gaze becomes even more intense and his jaw tighter, watching his brother as if he could throw daggers at him with his eye.
"Shut the fuck up," he orders him, controlling himself as much as he can at that moment.
"Aemond," Alicent calls out to him worriedly.
"Or what?" Aegon challenges him, "She better know what she's getting herself into once and for all. With our fucking family traumatized by her own father who never cared about us."
"I said shut the fuck up," Aemond demands of him rising from his chair, causing everyone at the table to become alarmed.
Alicent rises at about the same time he does, and Helaena rises next, alert and worried, while you and Aegon continue to sit, he still unconcerned and you… because you don't even know how to feel about it.
The tension is too much, this is all unexpected and it's all happening too fast. And as if things couldn't get any worse, Aegon continues to talk and drink more.
"I'm just saying you two are the perfect match," he continues, his tone increasingly amused, "She doesn't have a mom and you don't have a dad, bro. Awesome, isn't it?"
Then it all happens too fast.
Aemond advances towards Aegon with a furious determination on his face that puts everyone at the table on alert, reaches towards him and grabs him hard by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to get up.
"Aemond!"
Alicent and Helaena immediately intervene, rushing towards them to stop them, but Aegon doesn't even have time to react before he finds himself on his feet, with Aemond holding him tightly.
"Stop it, Aemond!" exclaims Alicent, his tone full of authority and concern.
You finally rise from your seat as well, alert and worried, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say, feeling your pulse racing.
Then Aegon reacts as well, his face transforming into one of rage, placing his hands on top of his brother's.
"Get your fucking hands off me," he manages to say with difficulty.
"I told you to shut the fuck up or didn't I?"
"Oh and now you're going to hit me? Huh?" he asks, punching him in the chest with his hands, "You're going to hit me? And for what? For telling the truth?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you huh!? You fucking cunt," Aemond hits him back in the chest.
"Let go of me, you fucking asshole!"
"That's enough!" Alicent intervenes again, her voice firm and full of authority, "Aemond, let go right now!" she orders, furious, implying that she won't repeat it a fourth time.
The tension in the room seems to increase with each passing moment, as you hold your breath, watching Aemond worriedly, as does Helaena.
Aemond hesitates for a moment, glaring at his brother with determination, until he finally releases him with a tug, pulling away from him still watching him in warning and utter annoyance.
Aegon straightens, rubbing his neck as he glares at his brother resentfully.
"I don't need this shit. Enjoy your fucking dinner," he says grumpily, grabbing his bottle of beer and heading for the stairs, not giving anyone a glance.
At least your pulse starts to calm down when you see how it's finally all over, but you still watch Aemond worriedly.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Alicent turns to you sorrowfully, averting your gaze to her, "What a shame."
"No, no, don't worry…
You start to say in a soft tone when Aemond's serious but definitely kinder voice makes itself heard in your direction.
"I'll wait outside."
The three of you watch him silently and watch as with nonchalant gestures he takes his car keys from his front pocket and with his face still contained in fury, heads out of the house.
With a lump in your throat, you turn to Alicent and Helaena, feeling the weight of tension still hanging in the air even so.
"Thank you so much for dinner. It was nice to meet you," you say to Alicent, trying to sound as calm, gentle and kind as possible.
Alicent smiles sadly back at you, still with her saddened and troubled face.
"It was lovely to meet you and have you come, honey," she tells you sincerely, "Still I'm so sorry. It wasn't my plan for dinner to end like this."
"I totally understand, don't worry," you say with a small smile, "We can always do it again."
You say and immediately regret it, but manage to soften your face in time.
This was supposed to be the only time you would do this, but you feel you owe it to her, to Alicent, as she prepared a delicious dinner with great care. She seemed so excited and happy about everything, especially about you coming that it is such a shame that this happened.
More than anything else that's why you say so.
"Of course," she nods to you, kindly and cordially.
You bid her goodbye with a gentle hug, then embrace Helaena as well, conveying your silent support through the simple gesture.
"If you need to talk, we can do it at school," she murmurs in your ear before releasing you.
"Sure," you promise, returning the hug gratefully.
You take one last look at both of them and head out of the house. And once outside, you feel a shiver run down your spine as you face the cool night air.
And there you see him, in the middle of the night silence and at the edge of the street, leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette with an almost absent gesture, looking thoughtful but also still a little upset about what happened.
You watch as he lets the smoke go between his parted lips and you, letting out a long breath, head towards him.
When he looks back at you, you too just watch him silently and he wordlessly opens the driver's door with a soft squeak and gets in the car, so you follow after him, feeling the weight of silence between you.
You too slide into the passenger seat and close the door, where soon the two of you find yourselves moving through the quiet streets of the city, the music on the radio playing at a low volume in the background.
And that's the only sound between you, the music, and even then it's a little uncomfortable.
You bite the inside of your cheek, struggling to find the right words as the tension lingers, but you don't even know what to say. What are you supposed to say when that happened?
But finally it's Aemond who breaks the silence.
"I hope you enjoyed the show," he murmurs, not taking his eye off the road.
You are momentarily speechless, not knowing what to say at that, not even finding the right words in your mind. Then you let out a low sigh, understanding how he must be feeling.
You mean… you went to meet his mother, it was a family dinner, everything was going well and to suddenly have it all end like that with very personal confessions that you had no idea about… it must be completely frustrating for him that you witnessed that.
"Are you okay?" you ask him in a low, soft tone, watching him intently, concerned and understanding.
He lets out a long breath, pursing his lips as he considers your answer, saying nothing for a moment. But when he finally does, he says it in a voice laden with weariness, regret and seriousness.
"I'm not even upset that Aegon said all that… he… he's right," he says resentfully, "I'm upset that you had to witness it."
The weight of his words falls on you, sensing Aemond's seriousness and frustration in his words. You watch his serious and weary face, the fury he is still holding back.
And for a moment, you look like you're not going to say anything, but after biting your lips, you finally speak.
"You don't have to worry about me," you tell him in a soft voice, "After all, he was right about what he said about my mother too," you add, seeking to offer some comfort, "I don't even remember her, you know? And honestly… it doesn't affect me nor do I care."
If your words caused anything in him, he doesn't show it, as he continues with his eye focused on the road.
But inside, he can't help but feel a little surprised and amazed at your ability to accept those circumstances with such calm and determination compared to him.
And finally he nods, understanding the truth of your words.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.
You watch him with a soft and… slightly thoughtful gaze, feeling the tension between the two of you finally begin to fade, resulting in a warm and pleasant atmosphere for the two of you, as usual.
And unexpectedly for him, you take his free hand gently and intertwine your fingers with his, offering a small gesture of support amidst still the frustration he is feeling.
"I don't," you confess softly.
You don't say anything else and neither does he, hoping you can put this behind you. And all along the way, he keeps gently stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
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You wait anxiously, moving your foot repeatedly up and down, glancing from time to time at your surroundings and also at the screen of your phone, wanting to keep the time very much in mind.
The gentle morning breeze caresses your face, with the sun painting golden hues in the morning sky and listening in the background to the birds singing, but also all the movement of the soccer team training early at this hour from the field.
Everything seems to be calm, except for your racing heartbeat, where you avoid biting your nails and simply bite your lips in a nervous gesture, as well as the inside of your cheek.
Then you finally see Aemond approaching with his backpack on his shoulder and his face soft.
"Hey," he says softly, taking a seat in front of you, taking off his backpack and watching you carefully, "What's up? Is everything okay?"
Out of nerves, your whole body tenses and you avoid stuttering as you speak, stirring in your seat.
"Yeah, yeah, just…" you lower your gaze, playing with your fingers, "I just want to talk to you about something."
Aemond nods, giving you his full attention.
"Well? What is it?" he asks you warmly, not wanting to put pressure on you as he notices all the tension that is invading you at the moment.
But he honestly starts to worry seeing you that way.
And you swallow hard, with your gaze lowered, feeling the need to just let it out and nothing more, having that urge so you don't keep torturing yourself with your destructive thoughts.
"I was thinking that… maybe…" you let out a sigh, "Maybe we should stop this," you mutter, your voice barely a whisper.
And Aemond only watches you more intently, beginning to look alert, furrowing his brows in confusion.
"Stop what?"
You bite the inside of your cheek hard, completely flustered.
"Our fake relationship," you reply cautiously, watching him intently and with some concern.
"What?" he immediately queries you, "I-I don't-I don't understand."
"I think we've both accomplished what we wanted to… oh well, almost everything," you tell him knowingly, "But we've already put on a good show in front of the whole school, Alys is upset enough, and the cheating thing is behind us. We should stop."
You explain but in the middle of all your explanation, Aemond only frowns more, listening to you completely attentive, watching you surprised and incredulous.
"And the trip to Dragonstone?" he inquires you, with a serious and alert look, "That trip is key, it would be great for both of us to go together, as a couple."
You try to remain calm, but your heart is pounding and your nerves are getting the better of you.
"Yes, I know, but… do we really need to keep pretending?" you ask, "You've already saved your reputation, remember?"
Aemond shakes his head firmly, his jaw tense with mounting frustration.
"It's still not enough," he tells you seriously, "At least wait until after the trip."
"Aemond, I don't see why we should wait until then," you mutter, unsure, "We can finish everything now."
Aemond's expression hardens, his jaw tense with frustration as he tries to understand you.
"Y/N, the trip is in the contract," he tells you firmly, "And we agreed to finish everything until graduation."
You exhale, feeling the overwhelming weight of the situation that you didn't expect was going to get this bad the moment you decided to do this.
"I know, but I don't see the point of this anymore."
He becomes more confused, shaking his head, looking at you confused and now completely frustrated.
"What-what's wrong?" he asks you in a soft but urgent voice, attentive, "Did something happen?" he asks you concerned and interested, "Did something happen that I still don't know about?"
Oh God.
Fear grips you as you struggle to keep your composure and not let your nerves get the better of you.
"Or is this because of the dinner thing? And because of Alys' pranks?" he asks you worriedly, "If it's that, tell me. I-I'll find a way to fix it. You won't have to go to dinner at my house again and I'm sure I can talk to Alys."
"No, no… I-I…" you sigh, "It's not that-
He shrugs, looking at you confused and frustrated.
"Then what is it?"
Your heart pounds as you struggle to keep your composure in front of him.
Your words get stuck in your throat, enduring Aemond's still serious, worried and frustrated look on you, waiting for an explanation. But the feeling of panic grows in your chest and you resign yourself completely.
"Nothing, forget it," you say in a whisper, lowering your gaze.
You stand up and gather your things, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, just as Aemond sighs and looks more frustrated.
"Y/N," he calls your name in a tired gesture.
But you don't heed him, just focus on getting away from him,
"Y/N, please stop," he says to you in a soft but urgent voice.
But you don't stop, you can't.
How could you do it and how could you tell him that the real reason you decided to bring this up to your fake boyfriend is because maybe you are actually falling in love with him and the feeling is getting more and more intense, and you can't help it?
You just can't.
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emyladia · 1 month
Text
I want you back... | L. Nr
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pairing : lando norris x f!reader
summary : you and lando had broke up a few months ago and you're just now moving on. Or so you thought... 'Cause that was before he decide to text you.
genre : fluff, slightly angst ?
warning : cursing, pretty sure that's all
a/n : I just loooove writting about lando. This is kinda shitty but it was fun to write hope you'll enjoy it ! Anyways taking request if you want.
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You were fine, of course the break up has been really tough for you but now you could say it loud and proud : you were over it.
What a lie...
All it took was a damn text for your world to fall into piece again.
"Hey"
It was 3 AM when you screen lit up, and now that single word was making you completly crazy.
What the hell ? Why would he be texting you ? Maybe a wrong number ? Was he drunk ?
Your head was just a huge mess at the moment, that's probably because of that that you decided to answer. You clearly wouldn't have if you were in your plain consciousness.
At least that's what you were trying to convinced you.
"Hey" You text back.
"It's been a while" He answered in less than a minute.
"WTF lando ?" You couldn't help but send, this wasn't making any sense.
He was the one to broke up with you, and he hadn't even try to contact you the past months. Why would he texts you ? And why now when you were finally moving on ?
"I miss you"
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You had turn off your phone after this text.
Like what were you supposed to say ? That you too you were missing him ? That in fact you were missing him so damn much it was hurting you ? That you were missing him so bad that sometimes you were calling your male friends by his name ?
You just couldn't answered that.
You were having lunch with your a few friends, yet the text just wouldn't leave your mind.
You had basically stared at it the whole morning.
"Hey, you're okay y/n ?" One of your friend asked.
"Oh yeah sorry I was just lost in my thoughts" You tried to brush it off, chuckling a little.
"You seem a bit off today, no offense but we've barely heard you" Another one of your friend spoke with a concern look on her face.
They were all nodding, as you sighed.
You should probably just told them, theywere your closest friends and it's not like you could keep that to yourself anyway.
"Lando texted me" You blurted out looking down.
A loud silence followed your confession as you saw all their eyes widened in shock.
"I'm sorry WHAT ?" One of them finally spoke.
"Lando in like LANDO ?" Another continued.
And they all followed, throwing questions at you.
You showed them the conversation, way easier and they all gasped at the last text.
"What are you gonna do ? You should probably block him" Your friend said, they seemed tp all agree.
"Yeah I should do that" You nodded.
They were probably right, that was the best things to do. They were the one who had picked you up piece by piece when Lando broke up with you.
You were gonna do just that, blocked him and he would be out of your life forever.
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God you were so weak.
When you went home and were about to block him another text illuminated your screen.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, you're not mad are you ?"
You swear your fingers had just moved on their own.
"I'm not mad, I was just busy sorry" You replied, and you knew you had fucked up, that needed to stop and yet you were encouraging him.
"I'm so relieved to hear that ! How you're doing ?"
Damn why was he answering so fast.
"Just casual life nothing too entertaining, you ?"
"Pretty much the same"
It was gonna be fine, it was a simple discussion between two young adults. Nothing to worry about.
"The paddock feels empty without you" He added.
Shit. This wasn't fine at all.
"Is that so ?" You were kicking your feet like a damn teenager.
"Yeah, can't win a race without you" You knew, and he knew this was border, but to be honest you weren't caring at all.
"Can't win a race at all" You joked, you were giggling. God you've missed talking to him, even for simple discussion like that.
You shouldn't felt that way, or you were gonna end up sad again, but you couldn't help it.
"OFFENSIVE" He texted back, but you knew he was laughing.
You and Lando kept talking for hours, you were smiling at your phone like a maniac.
He was such a good talker, smooth, funny, full of charm.
He knew how to annoy you and how to make you laugh the most. He also knew how to hurt you the most.
You were currently laying in bed, watching 'pretty woman' when you got another text from your ex boyfriend.
"I really do miss you tho"
Here you were again, staring at the screen like it contained the answer to the greatest mystery on earth.
"Lando, stop that please" You eventually texted back after a few minutes.
"That what ?"
"That thing that you're currently doing, trying to make me pity you"
"Is it working ?"
"Lando..."
"Cmon y/n I'm serious, I fucking miss you, every minute of every day"
You were no longer paying any attention to the movie that was still playing on the screen of your laptop.
"YOU chosed to broke up" You remembered him.
"I know I made a damn mistake, and I'm sorry"
"You know what I don't even want to talk you anymore"
"Y/n don't do that"
"I should have blocked you already"
"But you didn't"
You were infuriating, completly messed up by too many emotions at the same time, you were sad, and angry against him, and against you too cause you were so weak for this man.
He was right, you didn't.
"Babe please, I just want you back" He sent you a few minutes later since you weren't answering.
"Should have thought about that sooner, and don't call me that"
"I'd do anything" He insisted.
"Claim me on TV and I'll think about it" You texted saracstically before turning off your phone.
You and lando had never been public, because fans could be crazy at some times and you were finding it absolutly ridiculous to brag on social media that you were in a relationship.
That's why you had said that, that wasn't making anysense. Maybe now he'll understand that this was definitly over.
Or so you thought.
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When you woke up your phone was blowing up with notification.
A lot of demands on instagram and hundreds of texts from your friends.
You were so confused until you clicked on the link your friend had sent you.
It was an interview of Lando that he hade just done but the views were already so high. Why would she send you that ?
Everything become clear when right before ending the interview Lando spoke :
"Actually I want to say something before leaving, I used to date a girl Y/n Y/l/n, she was amazing but I messed up with her cause I was a complete idiot... So if you're ever seeing this please come back, I know I've been an asshole. But I really want you back"
What.
In.
The.
World.
Was.
Happenning.
You grabbed your phone and dialed his number immediatly... No answer.
"What have you done ???" You tyepd agressively on your keyboard completly freacked out.
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les4elliewilliams · 3 months
Text
Ellie is away... // e.w
Chapter 4 – 2005, Junior year college
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wc;cw: 2.2k. swearing, mention of phone sex, ellie being a meanie again and avoiding you, loser!ellie. MDNI.
a/n: next chapter is gonna be the last so prepare yourself.
summary: she's been avoiding you like plague and you don't know why, or maybe you do.
➥ part one, two, three
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dinathedrummer has signed in dinathedrummer: hi gorgg dinathedrummer: how are you doing??
ynshere: not bad, you?
dinathedrummer: i'm doing fantastic, thank you for asking dinathedrummer: did Ellie talk to you yet?
ynshere: not really she's like avoiding me ynshere: she doesn't message me when she's online ynshere: she disconnects as soon as i sign in
dinathedrummer: damn dinathedrummer: do i need to beat her up for you? dinathedrummer: i was sure she liked you i don't know what's up with her
ynshere: fuck i don't know
dinathedrummer: what actually happened between you two last time she came to see you?
ynshere: we hooked up.
dinathedrummer: YOU WHAT
ynshere: yeah, that's why things are weird ynshere: we were both drunk and i don't know..she was so pretty ynshere: she kept teasing me and flirting, you know how she is ynshere: man, at least i think she was flirting, maybe it was all in my head?
dinathedrummer: she was always flirting with you. she doesn't act that way with me
ynshere: maybe she doesn't mean it ynshere: maybe i read too much into it and fucked it up
dinathedrummer: yn. dinathedrummer: you know she's a dumbass dinathedrummer: she can't face her feelings, she's always been like this dinathedrummer: even before you came along
ynshere: you sure? ynshere: it feels like she doesn't wanna talk to me
dinathedrummer: want me to talk to her?
ynshere: no please ynshere: she’ll understand i sent you and it will make things even more awkward
dinathedrummer: i don't want you guys to drift away either
ynshere: ah shit she messaged me just now
dinathedrummer: finallt dinathedrummer: finally
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brickmaster has signed in
brickmaster: hey
ynshere: oh hi
brickmaster: it's been a while huh?
ynshere: yeah, it's fine ynshere: i get it you're busy and all
brickmaster: i've just been going through a lot lately brickmaster: and i was hoping we could talk about things brickmaster: you know, what happened between us last year? brickmaster: things have been weird ever since
ynshere: i guess you're right ynshere: we should really address the whole thing
brickmaster: things have been weird since i came to visit brickmaster: yn, be honest with me brickmaster: do you think it was a mistake?
ynshere: am i weird if i say i don't regret hooking up with you?
brickmaster: do you mean it?
ynshere: yeah i do
brickmaster: doesn't that make things weird between us? brickmaster: did you expect it to happen?
ynshere: i didn't see it coming, no ynshere: it's not like you plan these kind of things ynshere: we were drunk and i don't really remember how we even started making out in the first place
brickmaster: it's just brickmaster: i was vulnerable and you knew it
ynshere: Ellie, listen i really didn't mean for that to happen ynshere: yeah, i knew you were going through some things but it's not like i used you or took advantage of you ynshere: i'm your friend i would never do anything like that to you
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dinathedrummer: so what is she saying?
ynshere: she thinks i planned it or something ynshere: that i took advantage of her vulnerable state
dinathedrummer: she really is dumb. dinathedrummer: maybe Jesse isnt the only one who hit his head as a baby after all
ynshere: this joke's getting old
dinathedrummer: i don't care
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brickmaster: i believe you brickmaster: it's just idk
ynshere: what about you ynshere: do you regret coming to visit?
brickmaster: not at all brickmaster: it just happened so quickly brickmaster: we've been friends for years and i never thought we would ever hook up or anything like that brickmaster: man, i was convinced you were straight brickmaster: but you were so into it
ynshere: i don't recall saying i was straight ynshere: i was very much into it
brickmaster: ah well brickmaster: it was totally unexpected brickmaster: I didn't think you'd see me that way, you know?
ynshere: well, i have
brickmaster: you have?
ynshere: mhm
brickmaster: how come you never told me before?
ynshere: Ellie, I was shit scared of what your reaction would be ynshere: you said it yourself ynshere: we've been friends for years and it's been kind of weird after that hook up ynshere: so since it's already weird...yeah, i do like you Ellie
brickmaster: well shit i wasn't expecting that brickmaster: after our hook up, I realized how much I missed out by not making a move on you in high school brickmaster: and like what if you just hooked up with me because it was the heat of the moment and you were drunk? brickmaster: or even worse, i was expecting you to tell me you regretted it and that you were as straight as a ruler
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ynshere: Dina ynshere: she thought i was straight dinathedrummer: even after hooking up? dinathedrummer: she really is that dense then dinathedrummer: i knew the second i laid my eyes on you ynshere: shut your bi ass up dinathedrummer: biphobia, i see how it is. ynshere: but seriously ynshere: i thought it was obvious? ynshere: i was never interested in guys or ever talked about guys before dinathedrummer: i dunno i guess she's just really slow dinathedrummer: that's why she barely gets any girl dinathedrummer: poor girl can't take hints ynshere: i told her i like her she hasn't said it back yet dinathedrummer: imagine liking Ellie dinathedrummer: god she's so awkward
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ynshere: now what kind of straight girl is utterly obsessed with Winona and has posters of her all over her room
brickmaster: shut up brickmaster: you never know brickmaster: so i just chickened out brickmaster: i also had so many things going on so i guess i got overwhelmed brickmaster: and thought it was better to avoid you instead of talking to you about it
ynshere: well you're an asshole for that. i missed you so much ynshere: you better never do it again
brickmaster: lol promise brickmaster: i like you too :)
ynshere: screaming kicking my feet
brickmaster: lol you're weird
ynshere: yeah but you like me sooo
brickmaster: now i really do regret coming to visit
ynshere: bitch
brickmaster: just fucking with you
ynshere: yeah you did fuck me
brickmaster: yn. brickmaster: my roommate is literally right behind me.
ynshere: and?
brickmaster: freaky
ynshere: just how you like it ynshere: anywho ynshere: wanna hang out this weekend? ynshere: i’ll be the one visiting this time :)
brickmaster: hell yeah brickmaster: no alcohol this time brickmaster: i wanna spend time with you...maybe go out?
ynshere: are you asking me out on a date?
brickmaster: maybe brickmaster: the answer is either yes or yes
ynshere: damn then i guess i gotta say yes ynshere: i don't really have a lot of options anyway
brickmaster: oh please, it's not like you wanted to say no brickmaster: i mean how could you say no to this pretty face? ynshere: gotta agree with you on that one
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dinathedrummer: so? ynshere: WERE GOING OUT ON A DATE THIS WEEKEND OH MY GOD OMYGOD dinathedrummer: oh that was quick ynshere: SHE SAID SHE LIKES ME BACK WHATWHAT dinathedrummer: told you.
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brickmaster: you can't resist me
ynshere: oh i can ynshere: i did all these years
brickmaster: jesus how long you liked me for
ynshere: hah says the one who didn't make a move on me in high school because you were too scared
brickmaster: well it's not like you've made a move on me either brickmaster: in my defense...i didn't know you were gay. you knew i was into girls the entire time and still did nothing
ynshere: your point is?
brickmaster: pussy.
ynshere: i knew you were into girls but i didn't think you would be into me
brickmaster: i'm very much into you brickmaster: i've been since high school you dumbass
ynshere: good to know. ynshere: what do you wanna do this weekend?
brickmaster: aquarium date? I remember you talking about aquariums non stop
ynshere: oh fuck you. ynshere: how did you even remember that lol
brickmaster: ;) brickmaster: so what do you say?
ynshere: fuck yeah, aquarium date it is!!!
brickmaster: looking forward to it then :)
ynshere: can't waittt ynshere: so how's school and everything going?
brickmaster: better than last year, i've made new friends brickmaster: i can't wait for it to be over to be honest
ynshere: new friends? about time ynshere: tell me about them
brickmaster: well there's this girl Riley brickmaster: she's a blast to hang out with brickmaster: kind of a troublemaker but she definitely knows how to spice things up and make them less boring brickmaster: what about your friend Emma? you guys still hang out?
ynshere: oh yeah she's cool ynshere: she's really kind ynshere: she likes nirvana too...man, I can't catch a break
brickmaster: lol i'm everywhere
ynshere: shut up ynshere: she keeps trying to make me listen to music with her
brickmaster: since when having good taste is a bad thing
ynshere: good taste? that loud ass music? ynshere: what's so relaxing about it anyways
brickmaster: weelllll whateverrr neverminddd
ynshere: nope. ynshere: stop
brickmaster: oh so you know that song huh brickmaster: guess you've been spending a bit too much time listening to that loud ass music
ynshere: maybe ynshere: only because i don't have choice
brickmaster: so what you doing tonight?
ynshere: nothing just studying, you?
brickmaster: nothing really brickmaster: wanna call later?
ynshere: of course
brickmaster: great, so talk to you later? :)
ynshere: talk to you later <33
brickmaster: oh that's new
ynshere is away.
brickmaster: you need to stop doing it.
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dinathedrummer: i need details man ynshere is away. dinathedrummer: the biphobia is strong.
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ynshere has signed in
brickmaster: hi babe
ynshere: hi pretty ynshere: how are you doing?
brickmaster: better now that you're here
ynshere: cheesy much
brickmaster: but it made you smile so, necessary
ynshere: oh you think you know me so well huh?
brickmaster: positive brickmaster: i know my girl better than anyone else and i bet a million dollars that you're smiling like an idiot right now
ynshere: i dont know am i?
brickmaster: you are.
ynshere: shut up
brickmaster: knew it.
ynshere: lol ynshere: how was your day?
brickmaster: ahh not bad just extremely boring brickmaster: can't wait to see you again this weekend
ynshere: i know, i know. me too ynshere: c'mon friday’s close
brickmaster: close my ass, it feels like time is moving at a snail's pace brickmaster: what do you wanna do this weekend anyways?
ynshere: anything's fine with me ynshere: we could literally just lay in bed all day and cuddle ynshere: watch a movie perhaps
brickmaster: sounds like a plan brickmaster: i'll get your favorite snacks as well
ynshere: aaand this is why i love you.
brickmaster: is that the only reason?
ynshere: yes
brickmaster: damn brickmaster: was it all just a lie?
ynshere: shut up, you know i love you.
brickmaster: maybe i just wanted to hear you say it again
ynshere: you didn't say it back though ynshere: so fuck you
brickmaster: i love you too yn
ynshere: better ynshere: gonna hang out with Emma in a bit ynshere: i'll call you later when i'm back baby
brickmaster: alright, have fun brickmaster: i love you
ynshere: i love you too ynshere: get your ass out of your dorm for once
brickmaster: yeah i think i'm going out with Riley and her friends later
ynshere: i hope you guys have fun ynshere: please don't drink too much if you do
brickmaster: i won't, promise brickmaster: i'm a very much responsible person, thank you.
ynshere: uh huh ynshere: well, talk to you later very much responsible person
brickmaster: bye bye beautiful
ynshere is away
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brickmaster has signed in
brickmaster: happy 6 monthiversary my love :)
ynshere: happy 6 months babe ynshere: i'm coming to visit this weekend, i have a surprise for you hehe;)
brickmaster: oh is that so brickmaster: what have you planned?
ynshere: it's a secret ynshere: you just gotta be patient and wait
brickmaster: i've never been a very patient person
ynshere: good
brickmaster: i call it edging.
ynshere: oh my god Ellie
brickmaster: what
ynshere: nothing ynshere: just know you'll love it
brickmaster: is it a new pair of sneakers?
ynshere: as much as i hate those crusty converses you own, no
brickmaster: how dare you brickmaster: we've been through so much together brickmaster: they're part of me
ynshere: been through what? ww2? ynshere: yeah so is that mold fungal infection on your big toe
brickmaster: hah getting funnier brickmaster: maybe dating me was exactly what you needed
ynshere: to get athlete’s foot. yep.
brickmaster: can you stop bullying my feet brickmaster: i scrub them daily
ynshere: okay smellie.
brickmaster: i'm breaking up with you
ynshere: STOP IM JOKING ynshere: DONT PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU
brickmaster: lol look at you brickmaster: so desperate and miserable at the mere thought of breaking up brickmaster: maybe i like seeing you like this
ynshere: Ellie don't start. ynshere: my roommate is in the room
brickmaster: oh start what? i'm not doing anything, darling
ynshere: uh huh, just like last time
brickmaster: last time hmmm?? brickmaster: what are you talking about
ynshere: last time on the phone
brickmaster: so what? brickmaster: it's not like you hated it brickmaster: and i needed you
ynshere: desperate.
brickmaster: judging by your pretty moans you seemed as desperate as me
ynshere: Ellie shut up, i swear.
brickmaster: or what
ynshere is away.
brickmaster: i swear to fucking god.
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¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!
taglist: @readbydayana @onlinelesbo @tearouthearts @macaroni676 @diddiqueen @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @amberputh @itsbecomeblue @benthoee @seraphicsentences @4ftergloww @liasxeatt
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lizthewriter · 7 months
Text
i know you are a stargirl / billy loomis
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PAIRING  billy loomis x fem!reader
SUMMARY  billy spends the entire next day teasing you, watching you with those kind of eyes. he finds a way to apologize to you, by giving you exactly what you need: pleasure and relief. part 1.
TAGS  billy loomis x fem!reader, smut, dom!billy, sub!reader, dacryphilia, cunniligus, cum eating, billy likes to order you around, body worship, slight angst, if you squint, billy becomes soft!dom billy halfway through, originally planning on making some kinky shit but suddenly this transforms into soft smut???, whatever we ball
QUOTE  "i shouldn't cry, but i love it, starboy," - stargirl interlude by the weeknd, feat. lana del rey
WORD COUNT  2.8K
WRITTEN  11.24.2023
A/N  i'm gone 😵🥴 anyways, first REAL smut, hope you like it anon 🤭🤭 17+
You knew he was teasing you - you knew. All he had done the entire fucking day was stare at you with those hungry, brown eyes as though he were devouring you with them. It was hard not to steal glances his way and it was hard to pretend as though you weren't. Even when he picked you up before school, he just had to massage your thigh the entire car ride.
After your last class of the day, he met you by your locker. Of course, he acted all gentleman-like and pretended as though he hadn't been eye-fucking you all day. He carried your bag for you as you both made your way towards his car. He opened and closed the door for you, gently placing the book bag near your feet.
"How was your day?" He asked as he started the car, backing out of the parking space. His hand was thrown around the front seat, his fingers tickling your neck. You hated the sound of his voice - so smooth and sultry, so captivating. You had to press your legs together and look out the window to keep yourself distracted.
"It was good," you responded without any elaboration. He put the car back into drive and soon enough, you were out of the school parking lot and on the high road. It takes you a minute to realize that he was going in the wrong direction - he had to take a left out of the parking lot to get back to your place, not a right. "Billy, you're going the wrong way. My house is back there." You pointed back where you came from.
"We're not going to your place," he responded, twisting the dial on his sound system. Rock blared through the speakers, but he quickly turned it down to a much more tolerable level. "Sorry, Stu's station . . . no, we're going to my place."
His place? Your obvious shock could be seen on your face, judging by the way Billy laughed. "Yeah, Dad's out of town. We've got the whole place to ourselves." A blush painted your face a sweet cherry red. Billy had never brought you round his place, for good reason. He and his father had a rather complicated relationship . . . a difficult home life. You would say he had never taken you over out of embarrassment, shame, or some sort of protectiveness but you always couldn't help but feel as though he didn't trust you to come over. No one but you and Stu knew even the smallest inklings of Billy's personal life. He had always been rather reserved and again, he had a reputation to uphold.
But now? Knowing that he trusted you enough to bring you round? That he was finally putting in some godamned effort into your relationship? You felt more turned on then before.
It took you a moment to realize that he had called your name quite a few times. "What do you think?" He asked. His demeanor seemed nonchalant, but there was that undertone of nervousness in his voice.
You finally turned back towards him - his eyes turned away from the road, just for a moment, to look at you. You bit your bottom lip, a smile growing on your face. It was infectious, spreading to Billy as well. "Sounds good," you responded with a nod.
The rest of the car ride was silent. It wasn't awkward, it wasn't weird. Often, you two found yourselves in a comfortable sort of quiet, one where you appreciate the other's prescene. You watched great big houses and fields of grass fly past your window - Billy still had his arm swung around you from before. You leaned your cheek into his hand, smiling.
When you had gotten to his house, you had to do a double take. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it was a house just like Stu's. Great and big and beautiful, with a blossoming garden and a freshly mown lawn. He opened the door to his house for you and you entered, slipping off your shoes and placing your bag on a stool by the coat hanger.
"Home sweet home," Billy said, in a tone half-sarcastic. He placed his shoes neatly next to yours and encouraged you to let loose, follow him inside. "Do you want a drink? Something to eat?"
You walked together down a hall and into a spacious, rustic kitchen. "No, I'm not very hungry . . ." You weren't sure what else to say - Billy hadn't opted to fill the silence either. And here was the other side of the flip coin. The tense silence. A quiet that haunts you during the day, one where you both know exactly what you want, except . . . he does nothing.
Billy leans against the marble countertop of the island and you stop in front of him, unsure of what to do or say. He watches you intently, waiting for you to speak.
"Your house is, uh . . . really beautiful," you said, in an attempt to make conversation. He stands there and says nothing. "I'm glad you invited me over." The silence finally gets to you. "Are you gonna say something?"
He pushes himself off the counter and placed his hands on your waist. "I'm glad I invited you over too, sweetheart." The way he talks, the way he moves, it's like he knows exactly what he's doing to you. It's like he's trying to get you antsy and desperate. All right, well if that's the game he wants to play then two can tango.
You smile innocently at him, leaning forward to press a not-so-chaste kiss to his cheek. When you pull away, your lips linger not a centimeter from his skin. Your breath is hot and heavy and your eyes flicker towards his. "I think I'm starting to get hungry now," you whisper softly, pulling away from him. You slip easily out of his loosened grip on your waist and make your way over to the fridge. "Anything good in here?" You ask, leaning in as though scanning the inventory.
"Unless you want a ketchup, mustard, and pickle sandwich, I'm afraid we're just going to have to order in." You tried to keep your breathing steady as he hovers close behind you, too close. Slowly, you close the door and turn around to face him. He bows your head to look down at you, and you feel much more like the prey to his predator rather than the key to his heart.
You want control of the situation. "So, what should we do? Watch a movie or-"
You don't have enough time to finish before he plants a hand on the refrigerator door beside you. Internally, you smirk - he had been trying to get you worked up, yet now you've done exactly that to him. "I didn't invite you over to watch a movie," he whispered. The air of tension grew so thick, it was like a snake that wrapped around your throat and kept you in a chokehold. "And I think you know that."
A smirk grew on his face as your innocent expression fell - well shit. He brings up his hand and trails his index finger down your cheek, along the vein of your neck, and down your side. You shiver with anticipation and squeeze your thighs together, none of which escapes his notice. "Don't think I don't see you, pretty girl, I see you."
"Billy . . ."
"Remember what I told you last night?" You felt a rush of heat in your cheeks. "Say it."
You felt embarrassed and cornered. His hand finally stopped moving, resting on your hip. It felt like it was meant to be there, like there was a Billy-sized hole in your heart that needed to be filled by his touches, by his kisses . . . He leaned in close, pressing his lips to the edge of your hairline by your ear. "Say it," he said, something that sounded much more like a command than a request.
"Billy," you started, your breath becoming shallow. Meeting his eyes only sent that pang to your lower abdomen - you practically moaned where you stood. He was so close and you could feel the want spilling off of his skin, a poisonous gas intoxicating you. "I want you to fuck me."
That was all he needed. Soon enough, he was clawing at your skin while his lips smashed into yours with desperation. He needed to feel every inch of your skin, he needed to show you that you were his, and more importantly, he was yours. His tounge slipped past your lips, causing you to gasp and lean into him. He swirled his tounge around your own and wrapped the arm that had been planted above you around your waist. He pulled you into him so that your breasts were pressed against his chest and your head was tilted all the way back to meet his lips.
"Mm, missed the sweet taste of your lips sweetheart," he murmured into your mouth, his other hand coming up to grope your breast. He gave it a gentle squeeze and then swiped his finger over your nipple, causing it to grow erect under his hand. You let out a desperate whimper, kissing him with more hunger, applying so much force that you can feel your teeth clash. When he pulls away, a laugh rumbles through his chest. "Seems you feel the same way." He pauses, his eyes following the length of your body so leisurely that you were beginning to grow impatient. "Get on the counter."
You grin and eagerly jump onto the kitchen island, facing Billy, who currently stands between your legs. "I missed you," you told him, with some honesty. You did, you really did, even if he was being a jerkface. A knowing expression replaced your sentimental one, your fingers beginning to toy with the waistband of his jeans. "I missed this."
He presses another kiss to your lips, that devilish smirk still haunting his face. "Lie down, slowly."
He places his hand behind your head, helping you lay back on the cool counter. You hiss softly as the chill touches your bare arms - Billy simply shushes you and plants wet kisses along your neck. One of your hands tangles in his hair while the other grips the countertop as you lean your head away from him, presenting him with more of your neck. "I'm sorry for being such a dick . . . for being so fucking stupid."
"It's okay -"
"It's not," he responds sharply, pulling away from your neck to meet your eyes with a glare as firm as iron. "I was an asshole. What I did wasn't 'okay.' You don't have to forgive me. But I want to show you that I do care for you, that I do . . ." He glanced down at the ground. "I do - love you." The way he said it was tense and hesitant, but not because he was trying to force it, but because it was so hard for him to say.
Your expression softens and you gently tilt his chin up so that you could see him. The lust in his eyes was momentarily gone, replaced by something much more loving. You press your lips gently to his, clutching his face with need. "I know you do baby, I love you too." You knew it was hard for him to be soft and affectionate, but there were times like these - very rare times, you might add - where he opened up to you. Just a little. It made you feel infinitely special. You wanted him to know you felt the same way. "I'm so proud of you. I love you so much."
He leaned towards your hand as you brushed your fingers through his hair with a lovingness that only you could provide him. He his chest tighten - I'm so proud of you. Even though Stu had always stuck by his side through thick and thin, you were the one who showed you love. The only person who ever had, anyways. He wanted to show you his appreciation, he wanted to make you feel good.
He slowly pulled himself away from you - you looked confused for a moment, but not for long. Billy gently lifted your skirt with his fingers peeking beneath. You felt heat rush to where you wanted him to touch you oh-so-badly, a reminder of the sinful activities you were up to only a moment ago. "Pretty," he mumbled. It wasn't long before he was gently pulling your legs up and over his shoulders, peeling off your panties by lifting each leg. He placed them on the counter next to you and lowered himself to your bare heat.
"Billy," you said breathlessly, silent as you had watched him.
"It's okay," he assured you, not removing his eyes from where they had strayed. "Just gonna make you feel good." He dove down, pressing kisses up your inner thighs as preparation. Not that you needed any, you were already wet and ready for him.
You let out a gasp, your chest rising off the counter at his first lick. He savored the way you reacted to him, so sensitive, so delicate, so beautiful. He wanted to hear more, to taste more.
He started to lap at your cunt, nose brushing against your clip with every motion. In an instant, you were a moaning mess - your hands tugging on his hair, your back arching off the counter, your head lolling to the sides. He was unrelenting, giving you exactly what you wanted, where you wanted it. His name stumbled out of your mouth, repeating it like a prayer to a higher power.
Your scent, your taste, had his mind going hazy. He could feel the tightness in his pants but he was doing his best to ignore it. Today was going to be all about you. His tounge explored every inch of your clit, the way his mouth moved along your heat growing more and more messy. Until his cheeks were covered in your slick and his pupils were so dilated, his eyes were almost black. You whined, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and clouding your vision. When he got a good look at you all undone, just for him, it only encouraged him more.
"My pretty girl," he mumbled in a daze, slowly inserting a finger and shutting his eyes as he felt you clench around him.
"Billy . . . hngh! Billy, please . . . more."
"You sound beautiful." Slowly, he began to pump his finger, in and out, in and out. He watched as your daze grew, until your eyes were blown out and drool was leaking from the corner of your lips. "So beautiful." He adds another finger, much to your pleasure. A sheen of sweat gathers on your forehead, making you shine like a goddess.
He finally pulls away from your cunt pressing forward so that your thighs are now pressed against your chest and the two of you are face to face. You look at him through half-hooded eyes and you look lost, yet like you're exactly where you should be. "I love you. I promise I'll be better. I promise. You're - you're the only good thing in my life. You keep me in check. You care for me. You show me what love really means. I need you."
You let out a whimper as he begins to increase his pace. "Baby," you whine, your head rocking back and forth but your eyes never straying from his. Billy's words, the position your in, the way he's moving inside of you - you can feel the tension build up in your lower abdomen. "I love you too, so so - oh God - so much!"
He can feel himself twitch at the way your voice jumps an octave, your head flying back with tightly closed eyes. Gasps and curses flew out of your mouth, so vulgar, yet mixed with his name and loving, but broken sentences, so sweet. "You're close," he mumbled.
"Mhm, please, baby! Pleasepleaseplease."
He finally adds a third finger, upping his pace as much as he can to give you the most pleasure. He pressed kisses to as much of your exposed skin as he can, drinking in the way you meal and squirm. "Come for me, sweetheart, it's okay."
You let out a moan and your body twitches as relief floods through your system, your orgasm flowing through your veins. "I know, I know," he says softly, brushing your hair from your face. "You okay?"
You breath heavily, waiting a moment or two to come down from your high. "You were . . . amazing." A breathless laugh leaves your mouth. You tilt your head so that you can look at him properly, raising a hand to cup his cheek. "I'm so glad you came back to me."
He closes his eyes, chest fluttering as he takes in a breath. "Me too, sweetheart. Me too."
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doctorbitchcrxft · 1 month
Text
Asylum | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of parental abuse (take care of yourselves my lovebugs)
Word Count: 5444
Series Rewrite Masterlist
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You and the boys had bonded quite a lot since Kansas. You and Sam had always been close; bonding over random pop culture debates, philosophical musings, and your interest in the pursuit of knowledge. It was your relationship with Dean that was really starting to confuse you.
You knew you were attracted to him; that much you had never denied. But it was the way your heart seemed to tug toward him in your chest when you two made your pinky promise next to his car that confused the hell out of you. You and Dean were friends, and that was truly all you needed from him. Or, at least, that was what you told yourself.
Sam was on the phone with one of his father’s friends named Caleb. The boys were growing frustrated at their inability to find him. Every lead they followed was a dead end. 
“You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person’s,” Sam suggested.
“We've talked about this. Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail,” Dean rebutted.
Sam shook his head. “I don't care anymore.”
Dean’s cell phone rang on the bed next to you. You got up to bring it over to him. 
“After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean, he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and… nothing. You know, he could be dead for all we know.”
Dean took the phone from you. “Don't say that! He's not dead! He's – he's…”
“He's what? He's hiding? He's busy?” Sam argued.
Dean went to respond, but the message on his cell phone caught his attention. “Huh. I don't believe it.”
“What?” you asked, peering over his shoulder.
“It's, uh, it's a text message. It's coordinates.” Dean immediately opened his laptop and began clacking away.
“You think Dad was texting us?” Sam asked.
“He's given us coordinates before,” Dean said.
“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.”
“Sam, it's good news! It means he's okay, or alive at least.”
“Well, was there a number on the caller ID?”
“Nah, it said 'unknown,’ “ Dean replied.
“Well, where do the coordinates point?”
“That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois.”
“Interesting how?” you asked him.
“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” He handed the paper to you. “This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum.”
“Okay, I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?” Sam questioned.
“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let’s see…” Dean flipped to the page. “Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths; till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”
Sam snorted. “This is a job. Dad wants us to work a job.”
“Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?”
“Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing.”
“Who cares! If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!”
“Guys—” Their bickering had gotten more frequent in days of late, and it was beginning to bug the shit out of you.
“This doesn't strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?” Sam pressed.
“Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'.”
Sam made a bitchface at his brother and sighed.
***
Your destination was a bar in Rockford you had stalked the cop you knew was the partner of the deceased. You found him sitting at the bar, nursing a beer. You monitored the scene from a few tables behind. Dean was to meet you there after his interaction with the cop.
“You're Daniel Gunderson. You're a cop, right?” he asked.
The cop nodded.
“Huh. I'm uh, Nigel Tufnel, The Chicago Tribune. Mind if I ask you a couple of questions, about your partner?” he asked enthusiastically.
“Yeah, I do. I'm just tryin' to have a beer here.”
“That's okay, I swear it won't take that long. I just want to get the story in your words,” Dean continued.
The cop was not amused. “A week ago, my partner was sitting in that chair. Now he's dead. You gonna ambush me here?”
“Sorry. But I need to know what happened.”
Sam came up and pushed Dean aside roughly. “Hey buddy, why don't you leave the poor guy alone! The man's an officer! Why dontcha show a little respect!”
He was calling an unnecessary amount of attention to himself that amused you slightly. Dean paused, glaring before walking over to you.
“Spinal Tap?” you questioned, laughing, referencing his fake name. “Seriously?” The two of you began walking out of the bar over to the Impala. 
“What? It’s a classic!”
“I’m not arguing that,” you said. “But what are the chances he knew your reference?” You sat on the hood next to Dean.
“Oh, come on, we’re probably the only two people in Rockford who even know what Spinal Tap is,” he remarked.
A moment of silence passed between the two of you. 
“How’s your neck healing?” Dean asked.
You turned your neck up to him. There was still quite a bit of bruising from the way you were strangled back in Kansas. He sucked in air through his teeth. “That’s gotta hurt, huh?” 
“Meh, a bit,” you answered. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
He rolled his eyes at you. “Are we ever gonna talk about Kansas?”
“Hmm… I did pinky-promise,” you jested. 
“That you did.” He looked at you expectantly.
You sighed. “My dad was uh, a bit of an asshole. The man’s dead and I still can’t decide if I love or hate him. He was mean. And that’s putting it mildly. For instance, like, one time, I missed a shot on a hunt, and he beat me til I was black and blue later that night. Said it was gonna make me sharper, and he’d rather me hate him than fuck up again like that on a hunt. I was twelve.”
“Wow,” Dean responded quietly. “How young were you when he started taking you on hunts?”
“Ten.”
“Holy crap. Could you even hold a gun at that age?’
“Please, I’ve been able to hold a gun since I was four. He said I needed a dose of reality if I wanted to complain so much about being in the motel room with my brother.”
He nodded. “How much younger was your brother?”
“Two years.” You smiled at the memory of him, but your smile quickly faded. “I, uh, took beatings for him a lot.”
Dean nodded again. He paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
You shrugged and sighed. “It’s over now.”
“Yeah, but I know it still hurts.”
You don’t know what made you do it, but you leaned your head on his shoulder. He tensed under you briefly, but let you keep your head there. 
You hadn’t noticed Sam walked out of the bar and was approaching the two of you. “You two look cozy.”
You jerked away from Dean. 
“Bite me,” the older Winchester answered. "Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy.”
“I had to sell it, didn't I? It's method acting,” Sam quipped.
Dean looked confused.
“Never mind.”
“What'd you find out from Gunderson?” you asked.
“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him.”
“What about at home?”
“He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.”
“Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him,” Dean nodded. “What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?”
“A lot.” Sam filled you in on the local legends and experiences teens had in the place. Kids frequently dared each other to spend the night because it was said everyone who stayed all night went crazy. 
You and the boys arrived at the asylum a little while later. The interior of the building was gray and gloomy. Metal carts were laying on their sides, vials spilled all over the ground, and you were sure you would find needles sticking out of the soles of your boots by the end of the endeavor. Dust covered every surface, flaring up your allergy, and every few minutes you were sneezing. 
“So apparently the cops chased the kids here… into the south wing,” Sam described, gesturing to the sign above the door.
“South wing, huh? Wait a second…” He pulled out his dad’s journal. “1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.”
“So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it,” you continued.
“But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?” Dean questioned.
You noticed a broken chain on one of the doors. “Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years. Keep people out or keep something in.”
Sam slowly pushed the door open, and the three of you began heading down the hallway. 
“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel,” Dean remarked at his brother. He was passing his EMF meter over various surfaces in the hallway.
“Dude, enough,” Sam groaned.
“I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.”
“I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”
“And that’s not ESP?” you quipped. 
Sam made a face at you. “Okay, maybe it is, but—”
You snickered.
“Not funny, (Y/N/N).” He playfully shoved your shoulder. “You get any reading on that thing or not?”
Dean shook his head. “Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home.”
“Spirits can appear during certain hours of the day.”
“Yeah, the freaks come out at night.”
“Hey, Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?” Dean deadpanned.
You and Dean laughed, and Sam shoved the both of you. The three of you entered another room. You looked around, a sinking feeling hitting your stomach.
“Man. Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people,” you shook your head.
“Kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest.” Dean made crazy eyes and grinned at you and Sam.
Sam ignored him and his smile dropped. 
“So. Whaddaya think? Ghosts possessing people?” Dean questioned.
“Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting,” Sam suggested.
“Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining.” Dean grinned again.
“You are such a nerd,” you mumbled.
“Hey, don’t talk about Sam like that,” Dean gibed back, even though he knew you were talking about him.
“Dean. When are we going to talk about it?” Sam asked his brother.
“Talk about what?”
“About the fact Dad's not here.”
Dean clicked his tongue. “Oh. I see. How ’bout… never.”
“I'm being serious, man. He sent us here.”
“So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here,” said Dean gruffly. “We'll pick up the search later.”
“It doesn't matter what he wants.”
“See. That attitude? Right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie.”
You scoffed. “C’mon, guys, cut it out.”
Sam ignored you. “Dad could be in trouble; we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about.”
“I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order.”
You loved Sam, but you were on Dean’s side. Your father’s training probably programmed you that way.
“So, what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?” Sam bit back.
“Of course we do.”
Sam huffed frustratedly. Dean stared back and then turned away, ending the conversation.
You started poking around the room a bit more. You picked up a dusty sign off the floor and sneezed again. “ 'Sanford Ellicott'... You know what we gotta do. We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here.” You put the sign back down and walked away from the boys. 
***
You and Dean dropped Sam off at a therapy session with Sanford Ellicott’s son, James Ellicott. You figured it was the best way to get information from someone close to the situation. In the meantime, you and Dean spent some time hanging out in the Impala. 
Conversation between the two of you never felt forced. You still enjoyed pushing each other’s buttons, but you genuinely got along very well.
“Okay, so, I told you about my fucked up family, you need to talk about yours,” you told Dean. 
He scoffed and gave you a bitchface. “Says who?”
“Says me. Now, spill.”
Dean seemed uncomfortable.
You took the hint. “Okay, if you don’t wanna talk about it now, will you tell me at some point?”
He nodded and stuck out his pinky with a smirk. “Promise.”
A smile spread across your face and you linked his finger with yours. “Okay, then. Different question. What’s your favorite color?”
He scoffed lightheartedly. “What?”
“I’m serious! What’s your favorite color? Mine’s (Y/F/C).”
“Blue,” he answered. 
“Like, baby blue or navy blue?”
“Definitely closer to navy,” he told you. He was eyeing you strangely again.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” you asked him.
“You… confuse me.”
“Oh?” You raised a brow. “Why?”
He shook his head. The one thing you hated about Dean was his inability to talk about quite literally any of his feelings. 
“Will you ever tell me why?” you asked.
He nodded and stuck out his pinky again. You smiled warmly and took it.
***
“He’s been in there for-fucking-ever,” you groaned, pushing yourself off the wall of the building. 
As if on cue, Sam walked out at that moment. 
“Dude! What the hell were you talking about?” you asked as you headed back to the car with the brothers. 
“Just the hospital, you know,” Sam responded.
“And...?” Dean pushed.
“And the south wing? It's where the housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane.”
“Sounds cozy.”
“Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other.”
“So the patients took over the asylum?” you questioned.
“Apparently,” Sam answered.
“Any deaths?”
“Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott.”
“Awesome. What do you mean ‘never recovered’?”
“Cops scoured every inch of the place but I guess the patients must've...stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden.”
“That's grim,” the older brother commented.
“Yeah. So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down,” Sam explained.
“So, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies.”
“And a bunch of angry spirits.”
Dean chuckled humorlessly. “Good times. Let's check out the hospital tonight.”
***
You held a shotgun full of rock salt round, Sam a video camera and flashlight, and Dean his EMF meter.
“Getting readings?” Sam asked as you walked down the labyrinth of hallways in the asylum.
“Yeah, big time,” his brother responded.
“This place is orbing like crazy.”
“All of these unrecovered bodies are probably causing it,” you added.
“We gotta find ’em and burn ’em. Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit... is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer.” Dean’s unwavering confidence cracked a little in a rare moment of vulnerability.
The three of you continued searching. You and Sam split off to one room and Dean took another. You looked around the debris scattered through the room to try and find some of the bodies.
Sam’s yelp caused you to wheel around “(Y/N), shotgun!” he called to you
You came up behind him. “Sam, drop!”
He obeyed and you shot the apparition in front of him square in the face.
Dean came running into the room. “What happened?”
“That was weird.” Sam was breathless when he got up from the ground. 
You furrowed your eyebrows at him as the three of you made your way out of the room. “Why?”
“She didn't attack me,” the younger brother replied.
“Looked pretty aggro from where I was standing,” you retorted.
“She didn't hurt me. She didn't even try! So if she didn't wanna hurt me then what did she want?”
You shook your head and shrugged. You and the brothers jerked in the direction of a sound coming from a room you were passing. You raised your shotgun, and your eyes flicked to Sam’s. He nodded at you to go into the room first. You approached a ragged metal bed that had been turned on its side in the corner of the room. You could see something hiding behind it. 
Sam tipped the bed over and you aimed the shotgun at the thing behind it. However, the girl hiding behind it screeched and jerked further back into the corner.
“It's alright,” Dean told her, “we're not going to hurt you. It's okay. What's your name?”
“Katherine. Kat.”
“Okay. I'm Dean, this is Sam and (Y/N).”
“What are you doing here!?” you asked her.
“Um, my boyfriend, Gavin,” she replied shakily.
“Is he here?” Dean questioned.
Kat nodded. “Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts. I thought it was all just… you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and…” she trailed off, tears welling in her eyes.
“Alright. Kat? Come on. Sam's gonna get you out of here and then we're gonna find your boyfriend.” Dean gestured between the two of you.
“No! No,” she protested. “I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you.”
“It's no joke around here, okay. It's dangerous,” Dean responded.
“That's why I gotta find him.”
You looked over at Sam, who shrugged.
“Alright, I guess we gonna split up then. Let's go,” Dean commanded your group. Kat went with Dean and you headed off with Sam. You kept your shotgun raised just behind Sam, tension gripping your chest.
“Gavin.... Gavin?” Sam called.
A few minutes of walking later, you noticed a figure on the ground unconscious. Sam crouched to wake the boy up, and you lowered your gun. 
Gavin awoke and freaked out, pushing himself away from you and Sam.
You were consistently impressed by Sam’s ability to calm others down. “Hey, Gavin. It's okay, We’re here to help.”
Gavin calmed down considerably, but still sounded slightly panicked. “Who are you?”
“My name is Sam, this is (Y/N). Uh, we found your girlfriend.”
“Kat?” Gavin got up from the floor. “Is she alright?”
“Yeah. She's worried about you. Are you okay?” you asked.
“I was running. I think I fell.”
“Running from… what?” you questioned.
“There was...there was this girl. Her face. It was all messed up,” he explained.
“Okay listen, did this girl... did she try and hurt you?” Sam asked.
Gavin looked back at Sam and shook his head. “What? No, she... uh…”
“She what?”
“She kissed me.” Gavin’s cheeks flared in embarrassment.
Sam seemed to feel uncomfortable, too. “Uh, um, but- but she didn't hurt you, physically?”
His eyes widened. “Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!” 
“Well, trust me, it could have been a lot worse,” you snickered. “Do you remember anything else?”
“She uh, actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear.”
“What?”
Gavin shook his head. “I don't know. I ran like hell.”
You scrubbed a hand over your eyes. “Okay, let’s go.”
The three of you went walking on, only to hear a female scream and Dean calling Kat’s name. The three of you broke off running toward the sound. 
“What's going on?” you asked Dean as you approached him. He was trying to jimmy open a heavy metal door with a pipe.
“She's inside with one of them,” the older Winchester explained.
“Help me!” Kat screamed from the inside.
“Kat!” her boyfriend called back.
“Get me outta here!”
Sam pushed Gavin back to get against the door. “Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me. You've got to face it. You've got to calm down.”
You and Dean turned to Sam. “She's gotta what?!” you exclaimed in unison.
“These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it,” Sam urged.
“You face it!” Kat protested.
“No! It's the only way to get out of there.”
“No!” she cried.
“Look at it, come on. You can do it,” Sam told her.
And then, quiet. There was nothing for a few minutes.
“Kat?” Gavin called through the door.
You and the brothers backed away from it. “Man, I hope you're right about this,” Dean told his brother.
“Yeah, me too.”
At that moment, the lock clicked and the door slowly opened. Kat stood in the doorway, shock overcoming her face. 
“Oh, Kat.” Gavin hugged his girlfriend.
You headed into the room Kat had been locked in. Nothing. You came back out and shook your head at the brothers.
“One thirty-seven,” Kat muttered.
Dean quirked a brow. “Sorry?”
“It whispered in my ear. One thirty-seven.”
“Room number,” you and the boys muttered in sync.
The three of you crouched along the wall and led the teenagers back to the exit. Sam was to take them out of the asylum while you and Dean went to investigate room 137.
You sneezed again for the umpteenth time. Your eyes were itching you, too.
“Are you allergic to me or something?” Dean asked you as you moved down the hall toward room 137.
You giggled. “No. Dust.”
“Aw, sweetheart—” he mocked, “—don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the dust bunnies.”
You rubbed your nose and sniffed. “I’m gonna kill you.” You pushed against the door of room 137, only to meet major resistance. You figured there was a bunch of furniture blocking it.
“Move, move,” Dean told you. Of course, he shoved the door open with ease. He looked at you smugly.
“Whatever,” you deadpanned, pushing past him into the room. You moved your flashlight around the dark room, finding tons of papers scattered over the floor. Filing cabinets were laying on their sides and a desk was completely broken in half. You sifted through folders in one of the only upright file cabinets. 
Dean was behind you, and you could hear wood creaking. He grunted. You turned to see him trying to pry a wood panel off the wall.
“Need help, princess?” you asked.
“No,” he grunted once more, finally jerking the panel off. Inside was a satchel that was relatively dust free. “This is why I get paid the big bucks.”
You rolled your eyes at him. 
The two of you pulled up chairs next to one another and began flipping through the journal inside the satchel. There were mad scribblings and hand-drawn pictures of the strangest medical instruments.
“Well, all work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy,” Dean remarked.
“This is insane,” you muttered, disgust overtaking you as you read the doctor’s accounts of what he had done to his patients. 
“Yeah, I want this fucker nice and crispy,” Dean said. “C’mon.” 
He led you back to the exit of the asylum, and Dean jerked back into you suddenly at the sound of a shotgun. 
“Damn it, damn it, don't shoot! It's us!” Dean called, trying to catch his breath.
You heard Kat from around the corner next. “Sorry! Sorry.”
“Son of a…” Dean huffed out a quick breath. He led you around the corner. “What are you still doing here?! Where's Sam?”
“He went to the basement. You called him,” Gavin said, looking at Dean dumbfounded.
“We didn’t call anybody,” you returned.
“His cell phone rang. He said it was Dean.” Kat was confused, too.
You and Dean came to the realization of what happened. 
“Fuck,” you muttered. “Basement, huh?”
Dean found Sam’s discarded duffel bag and grabbed an extra handgun. He handed it to you and grabbed a shotgun for himself. “Alright. Watch yourselves. And watch out for me!”
***
You and Dean had your guards up immediately upon entering the basement. The two of you called out to Sam, only to get no response. When you turned around, however, Sam was right in front of you. “Holy shit, dude!” you lowered your handgun. “I almost shot you.”
“Man, answer me when I'm calling you! You alright?” Dean said.
Sam sounded different to you. “Yeah. I'm fine.”
You eyed him strangely. 
“You know it wasn't me who called your cell, right?” his older brother told him.
“Yeah, I know. I think something lured me down here.”
“I think I know who. Dr. Ellicott. That's what the spirits have been trying to tell us. You haven't seen him, have you?” 
Sam shook his head. “No. How do you know it was him?”
“’Cause we found his log book. Apparently he was experimenting on his patients, awful stuff. Makes lobotomies look like a couple of aspirin,” Dean retorted.
Sam’s face was set in hard lines. He was scaring you, if you were honest. “But it was the patients who rioted.”
“Yeah. They were rioting against Dr. Ellicott. Dr. Feelgood was working on some sort of, like, extreme rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger then they would be cured of it. Instead it only made them worse and worse and angrier and angrier. So I'm thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop? To the kids in the seventies, making them so angry they become homicidal,“ Dean went on. “Come on, we gotta find his bones and torch ’em.”
You continued to eye Sam, not quite sure what was going on with him. 
“How? The police never found his body.” Sam’s movements were almost robotic.
“The log book said he had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere where he'd work on his patients. So, if I was a patient I'd drag his ass down here, do a little work on it myself.”
“I don't know, it sounds kinda…”
“Crazy?”
Sam nodded.
Dean motioned for his brother to follow him into the next room. You continued to watch Sam carefully, and the sly look he gave his brother did not escape you.
“I told you I looked everywhere. I didn't find a hidden room,” Sam said.
“Well, that's why they call it hidden.”
You shushed the boys. “You hear that?” You crouched to the ground and Dean followed suit. 
Sam was still standing behind him. “What?”
“There's a door here.” Dean felt along the wall until he found it.
“Dean.” You heard a gun click behind you. “Step back from the door.”
You and Dean rose from the ground with your hands raised. Blood was trickling down Sam’s face from his nose. 
“Sam, put the gun down,” Dean pleaded quietly.
Sam’s voice was hard. “Is that an order?”
Dean shook his head. “Nah, it's more of a friendly request.”
Sam pointed the gun straight at Dean’s chest. “ ’Cause I'm getting pretty tired of taking your orders.”
“Sam, stop it,” you told him. “I fucking knew it. Ellicott did something to you.”
“(Y/N), for once in your life, just shut your mouth.”
You knew it wasn’t Sam talking and you tried not to take offense.
“What are you gonna do, Sam? Gun's filled with rock salt. It's not gonna kill me,” Dean bit back.
Sam shot Dean square in the chest. The shot threw him backward through the hidden door. “No. But it will hurt like hell.”
“Dean!” you cried, rushing to his aid. 
“Get back, (Y/N),” Sam demanded. 
“What the fuck, Sam? Cut it out!”
Dean grabbed your arm, doing his best to silence you and steady himself. “We gotta burn Ellicott's bones and all this will be over, and you'll be back to normal.”
“I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? ’Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little soldier? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?” the younger brother spat.
“This isn't you talking, Sam,” Dean groaned, head lolling back against the floor.
Sam tapped the gun to the side of his head. “That's the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic, like you.”
“So what are you gonna do, huh? Are you gonna kill me? Then (Y/N)?”
Sam laughed bitterly. “You know what, I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago.”
“Well, then here. Let me make it easier for you." He held his treasured handgun out to Sam.
“Dean, no,” you pleaded, grabbing his wrist. The look he gave you told you to trust him. “Come on. Take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt.”
Sam hesitated.
“Take it!” Dean commanded.
He did, and pointed the gun straight at Dean’s face. 
Dean laughed humorlessly. “You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!” 
Sam pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, but no bullet left it. He tried once again. You took the opportunity to kick Sam square in the stomach, knocking him to the floor and winding him. 
Dean scrambled to his feet. “Man, I'm not going to give you a loaded pistol!”
Sam stared up at him with venomous disdain, only to receive a wicked right cross from Dean. Sam was knocked out cold.
“Sorry, Sammy.” Dean patted his brother’s head on the ground.
“Are you okay?” you asked.
He nodded. “Let’s just get this over with.”
The two of you found the rotting corpse of Dr. Ellicott behind a cupboard door. The smell nearly knocked you out. “Holy hell.”
Dean covered his nose with the back of his hand. “Oh, that's just gross.”
You pinched your nose with one hand and salted the body while Dean covered it in kerosene. “Soak it up,” he told the doctor. The two of you went to stand, only to be knocked to the floor by a gurney flying across the room.
You looked up to see the ghost of Dr. Ellicott right above you. “Don’t be afraid.” The doctor grabbed your face. “I'm going to help you. I'm going to make you all better.” His fingertips felt like they were burning holes into your skull.
You wailed in agony. And suddenly, he backed away from you. You dropped to the ground and looked up to see the doctor turning black and falling to the floor in front of you, crumbling on impact. 
You turned your head toward Dean. “Thanks.” You knew he had lit the corpse on fire while the doctor was distracted with you.
“Don’t mention it.”
You turned to the sound of Sam moaning from a distance away.
“You're not going to try and kill us, are ya?” Dean asked him.
Sam flexed his jaw painfully. “No.”
“Good. Because that would be awkward.”
After the three of you bid goodbye to Gavin and Kat, you were on the road again.
“Hey, Dean?” Sam said.
His brother turned to face him.
“I'm sorry, man. I said some awful things back there.”
Dean’s tone was guarded. “You remember all that?”
“Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it,” Sam told him. 
The older brother didn’t sound convinced. “You didn't, huh?”
“Dean—” you started.
Sam cut you off. “No, of course not! Do we need to talk about this?”
Dean turned his attention back to the road. “No. I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep.”
“Ditto,” you mumbled, stretching out over the backseat. 
Soon enough, you and the boys arrived back in your respective motel rooms. You’d decided to get some shut-eye before heading out to your next adventure. You awoke hours later to the sound of your cell phone ringing. You picked it up, not recognizing the number at all. 
You shot straight up at the sound of the man’s introduction. “John?!”
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey
Quite a few tags were broken; sorry lovebugs! :(
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howtofightwrite · 8 months
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Was reading through your torture tag and noticed a lot of stuff that was being said seemed to contradict things that were said on the scripttorture blog... do you have any suggestions on how to clear things up? Im not sure which things to trust
And you're asking us, because they've posted once in the last two years?
I'll admit, I have a fairly low opinion of them, and that's not directly their fault. For years, one of their fans, would regularly send some pretty incendiary asks our way. In fact, some of the less hostile ones were answered, and may be the posts you were looking at. Understandably, the ones simply accusing us of being torture apologists, demanding we redirect all our asks to their blog, or insisted that we should sit down and shut up, did not make the cut. With that in mind, please understand, I'm not going to go digging through their blog to refresh my memory, so some of this might be slightly skewed by the aforementioned deranged fan.
Look for the blog that does not constantly contradict or misrepresent their authoritative sources. Which is to say, if you actually pay attention to Shane O'Mara's work, it's basically what we've been saying all along.
If you're unfamiliar, O'Mara is a Neurologist who was (last I time I checked) working at Trinity College Dublin. He published a, frankly fascinating piece, called, Why Torture Doesn't Work, in which, he set about trying to answer why torture is an ineffective tool for intelligence gathering. O'Mara also had the misfortune of being the only expert who said anything close to the perspective Scripttorture wanted on torture.
An open secret about torture is that it is completely worthless for getting accurate information. This has been widely understood for centuries, if not millennia. O'Mara's question was, “why?”
It turns out, that the neurochemical trauma associated with torture, seriously interferes with your ability to accurately access information. For example: If you're being tortured, you can't tell your torturer where you planted the ticking bomb, because your brain literally can't access those memories.
Torture is evil. Yeah. No shit.
And, this is where ScriptTorture stops. “Torture is bad,” and Jack Bauer is an incredibly unrealistic fantasy, end of story.
Except, this is not the end of this.
Now, generally speaking, I don't blame anyone who wants to get off the ride here. Torture is an unpleasant subject, and wanting to stop at, “oh, it's evil,” is entirely reasonable... unless you want to write on the subject, or if you do political analysis and need to understand why people break out the torture implements.
More than that, this is where my academic background in political science actually comes into play. I'm not saying this as an Eagle Scout who had a couple overly enthusiastic hand to hand instructors when I was a kid. This is (part of) what I studied in college, and I have kept an eye on it since then.
If torture didn't work, you wouldn't see state-sponsored torture pop up repeatedly throughout history. It would not be one of the favorite tools of dictators and despots. However, because it does, and it is, simply saying, “it doesn't work,” isn't instructive or meaningful because it's clearly untrue. Someone is finding value in this, so it becomes important to understand what they are doing, and why they are doing it.
When you torture someone, the information they provide is basically madlibs of whatever leaked through their brain. They want the pain and stress to stop, and they'll say anything they can to make that happen. That often takes the form of what they think their torturer wants to hear. O'Mara's research does explain why they don't simply cough up the truth.
So, why do it?
Torture is a very labor intensive process. You (as an individual) can't, realistically, torture multiple victims at a time, and it is a very drawn out process. Some elements can be automated, your torturer doesn't need to be present at every moment, but they're going to spend hours, if not days, working on one victim. Worse, this is actually a technical profession. It's not like you can just pull in anyone off the street and get the results you want. (Though, technically, this doesn't seem to be as true, however, amateurs do have a shocking capacity to screw up torture. So, the point remains valid.)
The value of torture has almost nothing to do with the victim. It's about the message it sends to everyone else.
Torture is about mass coercion of the population. When you are the state (meaning, the government), and you torture someone, you are telling your citizens that you are willing to do the same to them, if they oppose you.
State-sponsored torture is specifically a tool to suppress political engagement. It is, quite literally, state-sponsored, domestic terrorism.
This even holds true in cases where the state employs torture to extract confessions from criminal suspects. The message sent into the general population is that dissent of any kind will not be tolerated, and that the state has the willingness and power to turn these tools on you if you draw their ire.
I get that this is outside of ScriptTorture's area of expertise, and in fairness, I probably would not have studied this with any intensity, if I hadn't taken multiple classes on revolutionary theory.
Torture from private organizations (which is to say, organized crime, and religious institutions, though cults and some other groups might fit this description as well), follows roughly similar patterns. These tend to do the same things, discouraging dissent, and establishing the organization as having power over the population (or community.) (The technical term would be to “establish capacity.” Which is to say, the organization's capacity to enforce its will. The same term applies to states, though in those cases, the state's capacity is often overestimated by its population. It's only when it starts to falter, for example through military defeats or serious civil unrest, that they really need the capacity boosting part of this equation.)
Zealotry or stupidity can create situations where you have a torturer (or, more likely, someone in a position of power ordering the torture) who believes that it is effectively compelling the truth from the victim. This (or amateurs) can easily lead into a distinct problem, which is that all of this has diminishing returns. Torture one person, and you send a loud, clear message. Torture ten, and all you've added to it is that you're willing to keep going. However, as you start stacking up the victims, you do start sending a new message to your enemies, that being, you're going to get to them sooner or later so it's in their best interest to respond now, mobilize and retaliate proactively, before you get to them. This means that a state which leans heavily on torture can easily instigate the civil unrest that exposes their limited capacity leading to a political death spiral. Alternately, if the state does have the capacity to put down the resulting unrest, it further reinforces their position (which does happen with depressing frequency in the real world.)
You're also going to create new enemies in the friends, family, and loved ones, of the people you tortured. This means that any organization that relies on extensive use of torture will, eventually, start tying a noose around its own neck. (Granted, there are a lot of social dynamics that I'm skimming over here, so it's not exactly as simple as “if the state tortures lots of people, it will result in increasing unrest.”)
If you want a partial citation for the above, you can (ironically) find it in a podcast interview with Shane O'Mara, when he explained why torture has been employed repeatedly through history. (Specifically I think it was episode 15 of Your Welcome, by Michael Malice. Though, I'm not 100% sure off hand.) Though that doesn't cover some of the more in depth elements I just discussed. Some of this is coming from a textbook on revolutionary theory I can't locate (it disappeared in a move a few years back.) Though that was more interested in the general structure of a state destabilizing into internecine conflict. Ironically, my preferred citation on torture, Fear up Harsh by Tony Lagouranis is mostly uninformative in this case, because his experiences were on the ground, rather than from a structural understanding of what his job was really doing. However, he does illustrate my comment about amateurs making even more of a mess, both through personal experiences with a few, and also through the eventual trajectory of the invasion and occupation of Iraq.
But of course, torture is evil... again, no shit. Was that really a question? And, I'm apparently a torture apologist for having a structural understanding of why evil people do evil things. Cool. Evil people don't do evil things because they're evil, they do them because they gain some tangible benefit from those acts, and they do not care about the consequences to anyone else. If you ask someone, “why do people do this?” and their answer is, “it's simple; they're evil,” that person is lying. They may be lying to themselves, but they are lying to you.
Why do people use torture? It's a lot more complicated, and unpleasant, than you'd expect at a simple overview.
-Starke
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