#did i base these two off the beginning and the end beanie babies from the 2000s. yeah. did i also just buy them cause i got so emotional | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

losing my mind

pairing: endings, beginnings! frank x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, sex, drugs, cheating, creative liberties with endings, beginnings plot, time jumps, angst, accidents, wounds

based off “losing my mind” from bernadette peters/or follies

sequel to “always hate me”

The sun comes up, I think about you. The coffee cup, I think about you. I want you so it’s like I’m losing my mind. The morning ends I think about you, I talk to friends I think about you and no one knows it’s like I’m losing my mind. All afternoon doing every little chore, the thought of you stays bright, sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor not going left not going right ...

The sounds of the night infiltrated Frank’s mind like a drug, probably the only one he could take. Life seemed bleaker and this time he just couldn’t deal with it the was he normally did. Somehow drinking seemed to have no effect on him, drugs were just childish things and girls didn’t matter to him. He just roamed the Earth like a doomed soul with heavy metal spheres shackled to his ankle. Even his house no longer felt like home, every small thing reminding him of Y/N. From the little Beanie baby in the fireplace to the lingering scent of the laundry detergent she had swore to him was the best thing he could ever get and would make his clothes as soft as ever. It hurt him more not to have her on his side rather than Jack, Jack who he had known since he was a kid. No, he missed her and how she would drag him to watch Gossip Girl with her as Jack merely sneered at the idea or how she would eat only sweet and salty popcorn believing it tasted better.

The only thing that seemed to take his mind off was driving. He couldn’t sleep so driving was the only thing he could do. Just drive. Anywhere, for hours and hours on end with sleep weighting his eyelids and regret on his mind.

- Where are we going? - he turned his head to the side, Y/N sat on the passenger seat, burgundy dress on and feet up on the car console. She had a sassy look to her, hair pushed back with a gaze that almost mocked him. Slowly, he blinked his eyes wondering if his mind was playing a trick on him, which it definitely was. - Don’t worry, darling. I’m just a personification of guilt and lack of sleep.

- Go away. - he steered the wheel of his car, hoping the hallucination of Y/N would just disappear.

- I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel so guilty. - the corners of her lips were pushed upwards. - How long did you think I took to sleep with Jack, huh? Think we’re doing it right now?

- Shut up.

- He was always much more interesting than you. Smarter, sophisticated, the type of guy I’d take to my parents. You know my parents, right? You know they love Jack, they’re always talking about him and how smart he is. Do you wanna know what they say about you?

- Shut up. - he screamed but what was he screaming at? His own guilt, screaming at the personification, the realisation of his guilt standing there in that damned burgundy dress, the same dress he had met her. She was not there, she was not real, she was just a vision. Guilt and regret personified. - Go away.

- I can go away whenever you want, darling. Go on and do what you always do, go get high, overdose even and maybe I’ll disappear or maybe I won’t. We all know you’re gonna end up like that, dead, just a bit too much and I’m not gonna be there. Jack’s not gonna be there when you’re gone and we won’t care. You wanna know why? Because you push people away, you push them away because you know you’re a mess and being next to you is like dying from radiation poisoning. Slow and painful, side effects lasting forever.

- SHUT UP! - the lights of his car got brighter and brighter until he realised it wasn’t the light of his car that were shining at him. In a flash of second, his forehead hit the wheel of the thud and everything went black. The last thing he heard, his heart still beating and seemingly breaking out.

I dim the lights and think about you spent sleepless nights to think about you. You said you loved me or where you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind? I want you so it’s like I’m losing my mind. Does no one know? It’s like I’m losing my mind.

The sizzling of the pan was everything that was heard on Y/N’s very small apartment just on the outskirts of town yet still with an unbelievable rent price tag. As she moved the pan, she looked up to the clock shining 4:04 AM. She sensed something was wrong yet she couldn’t pin point what is was. Had she forgotten rent? No, rent was surely paid. Were all bills paid? She didn’t know but something was deeply unsettling to her and as Jack, who had come over for a small dinner and catch up, spoke to her the tragedy-like feeling just rose out of her chest.

- Y/N? - he touched her wrist, noticing how still she was. - Hey, are you alright?

- Something’s wrong.

- What? Do you feel a disturbance in the Force? - he joked, trying to lighten the mood but Y/N was much to distressed to even get the joke. - Please tell me it’s not about Frank. It’s been two months.

- Frank? No. I’m just .. I’m just tired. - she sighed, grabbing the pan from the stove and placing it on the table, a perfect frittata. Jack merely raised an eyebrow, setting down his cutlery as she sat. - What?

- Normally if you don’t sleep that’s what happens. At this point I’m not entirely sure if stopping communication with Frank is hurting him or you more.

- It’s not about Frank, Jack. Cut it off, please. - she rolled her eyes, slicing half the dish for her and half for Jack. Of course that deep down she knew she was lying to herself, of course it was about Frank. Half of her didn’t want to admit it that she hadn’t caught a wink of sleep ever since Frank professed himself to her as that half knew what he was. She knew the type of guy he was, she had picked him up from one night stands houses, from the curb of sleazy bars and strip clubs. He wasn’t exactly what one would consider a partner yet at the same time she knew he could be good. He would always make sure to buy some sweet and salty popcorn despite hating them, even having a quarter of a shelf filled with them. Or when her engagement broke off and he sent her a care basket with the whole box collection of Friends and Gossip Girl.

- C’mon, Y/N. Spit it out, what is it? Have you also been in love with Frank for all these years? - it came out as more of a joke, a tiny yet full laugh coming from his throat yet Y/N remained still. - Oh my god. You’re in love with Frank.

10 YEARS AGO

Y/N walked into the Valentines’ Day party thrown by Jack, barely holding herself up in her pair of new heels and burgundy long sleeve fit and flare dress which at the time she had thought was very appropriate. The mood was mellow with low lights and pink and red helium balloons suspended into the air while a very slow and almost melodic version of “Can’t Take my Eyes off You” played.

Jack quickly noticed her, waving at her to come join him and his friends. In all honesty, she didn’t know any of the people here. She knew Jack from her English class as they had been paired together at the beginning but other than that it was mostly frat boys and their boyfriends.

- Hey, Y/N. I’m so happy you came. - he gave her a friendly hug before turning to his friends, or rather, one friend as the other men around seemed much more interested with their dates than him. His friend however quickly caught her attention. He was much more casually dressed than the other boys, wearing a button up shirt with a worn out coat and slightly ripped jeans. - This is my friend, Frank. Frank this is Y/N, we go to English class together.

- Nice to meet you Y/N from English class. - he raised his glass at her as she took a seat in the middle of the two boys. - What’s your poison?

- Oh, I’m really not in the mood for alcohol tonight. - she gave him a shy smile, feeling like a school girl talking to the jock.

- Ah, that bad? - he questioned, bringing the cup up to his lips. - Don’t feel bad. Valentine’s is a commercial invention and the break up rate is usually higher around it.

- Sounds like you’re the one who’s not dealing well with it. - he raised an eyebrow at her statement, amused look in his face. - Statistics quotes and all? Who broke your heart?

- No one breaks my heart, I don’t have one.

- Everyone has a heart no matter how hidden it is. That is just how anatomy works and you can choose to ignore that you have one or you can chose to accept you have one.

- You speak like an English student.

- You speak like a Law student. - she noted.

- How did you know? - he was amused by her, mostly how cut throat yet somehow soft she was about the information she was giving out.

- Law is reason free from passion. - she quoted, leaning her head against her own shoulder. - You seem to be void of it.

PRESENT

- You know Jack just because you’re very happy in a new relationship doesn’t mean I need one. - she was protective but she knew. She knew she loved Frank, she had loved him from the very moment they had known each other, she loved him through the recounts of his night stands, she loved him when she accepted a marriage proposal and she loved him when she left his life months ago. However, just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should be together.

- I’m gonna ask you this only one time and whatever answer you give we won’t speak about it ever again. - his hand went to rest on top of hers, a caring look of that of a parent that Jack somehow always carried. She just stared at his hand, softly and safely on top of hers as he let the question go. - Are you in love with Frank?

The truth is not always kind or reassuring, it’s not always soft or climatic and in this case it was just ... freeing in a painful sort of way. The pain of holding it in for ages, pretending it would just disappear, the pain of leaning her head against his shoulder whenever they had show marathons and knowing it was just that, just a momentaneously second of paradise which would never come to fruition. The truth that she knew, that she had always known, coming out scared her more than her words could ever describe them. There’s knowing and there’s saying and sometimes speaking is harder that acknowledging.

- Yes and I really don’t ... - her phone ring interrupted her. Her gaze moved slowly across the room, sensing something in the air that felt like tragedy in the end. Without much thought, she grabbed her phone from the kitchen island, putting it up to her ears.

There are moments that the words don’t reach, you hear something but it just doesn’t register, it just doesn’t reach your senses and for Y/N this was one of those moments. The grip on her phone grew lose causing the device to slide off her hand and into the ground which in turn made Jack get up to notice how every single thread of joy seemed to have left her face. Before he could even question what was happening, she rushed up to her door, grabbing her jacket and keys. Jack followed behind the crazed woman who pretty much pulled the door of her car open.

- Where are we going? - Jack asked her but she continued to drive. The short ten minute drive seemed to take hours and hours and as the emergency unit of the hospital became clear to Jack, he understood what that call was about.

She parked the car like a crazy person, immediately jumping off the car, still wearing her pyjamas and slippers which were hidden by her black trench coat. Her heart was beating like a drum as she hit the front desk where a less than bothered nurse was filling her nails and having small talk with her colleagues.

- Hi? Sorry, hi. - Y/N knew she sounded desperate but she was. - I got a call about a car crash. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.

- Follow me.

All afternoon doing every little chore the thought of you stays bright. Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor not going left, not going right. I dim the lights and think about you, spend sleepless nights to think about you. You said you loved me or were you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind?

The small noise of beeping woke him from his transe. All around white, nothing but white and if people were right than maybe he was in heaven however as his eyes got accustomed he could see the machines but more than machines, what really frightened him was the vision of Y/N.

- Hey, darling. - her hand came to caress his face making him wonder if he was seeing her or if she was one of his tired mind’s inventions.

- Are you real? - his words were slow and droopy, caused by the high amount of morphine they had injected him with.

- Yeah, I’m afraid so. - she gave him a kind smile, hand pushing his messy hair away from his forehead. - Me and Jack were so worried.

- I wasn’t high, Y/N. I promise. - he didn’t know what was wrong with him, maybe he didn’t want her to be even more disappointed than she already was with him.

- I know, you just had a car crash, darling. You probably have enough morphine in you to put down an elephant.

- No, Y/N. I, I got distracted in the road I wasn’t using or drinking or with a girl, you have to believe me.

- Frank, darling, I know. You’re in the hospital, you don’t need to apologise to me. I was so worried about you and so was Jack.

- Jack’s here?

The girl nodded, pushing the hair away from his forehead once again, leaning to kiss his forehead. He was covered in small cuts caused by small shards of his car’s broken windows and a few gashes which she just couldn’t look at without feeling the tears submerge to her eyes. A sea of guilt was storming in her chest and although her subconcious kept telling her this would never be her fault, it was merely a car crash, her heart told her something else. Friday night. Gossip Girl night when Frank would bake the only thing he could without setting the kitchen on fire, mozarella and tomato pesto salad, and the two of them would sit down and watch two seasons in one night. If she hadn’t ... She didn’t even wanted to think about it.

Frank on the other hand could see the distinct pain on her features. The pressure of her muscles creasing her soft features, lines by her eyes and lips quivering. It hurt, it just hurt more than he could phantom something would hurt, it hurt more than his wounds, it hurt more than knowing he’d hurt her several times, it hurt to see her so hurt and being able to do absolutely nothing yet that seemed to be a pattern. Frank always did nothing.

9 YEARS AGO

Valentine’s Day. Again. And Y/N was once again at the same party, the same decorations, the same slow version of “Can’t Take my Eyes off You” playing in the background, the only thing missing being Jack and Frank. Jack was on a date with a girl named Catherine whom he gushed about all the way through first until last period and Frank, well, Frank was out with a girl named Mandy. Oh Mandy, where to start with Mandy? Y/N hated Mandy. They had been housemates during the first year of university and if there was someone who could get her on her last nerve and consider murder it was her. Not only had she been a nightmare to live with, constantly refusing to clean or do any house chores, eating the food Y/N bought for herself. God, she was an absolute nightmare but Frank was interested in her and therefore Y/N held herself back.

She sighed ordering a virgin mojito, wanting to remain sober and not get drunk and end up in bed with one of the various frat boys around. Looking at her phone she noticed the hour, 23:20, only forty more minutes of this painful holiday and she could be free from her feeling of loneliness. As she was about to turn off her phone to enjoy her drink, a message fell. Frank.

“How’s commercial holiday? Found a suitable partner yet?”

She smiled faintly at the text, finger lingering over his name on the phone.

“I guess it’s alone commercial holiday for me once again”

She turned off her phone, not wanting to see another text from him, afraid it would be about how well his date was going with the housemate from Hell. Staring at her glass, she mixed the drink using the little heart shaped wood pick. As she took the first sip, the slow version of the song ceased to play and in its place “At Last” started to play because why play actual upbeat songs on a holiday where 50% of the population was miserable.

On that moment she decided she was better off alone in her room rather than in the middle of various single people expecting their fantasy of coupleness to occur. As she picked her clutch and looked for the door, she found Frank coming him, same old beat jacket that had become a trademark over the years. He gave her a little grin, walking towards her.

- Couldn’t let you spend Valentine’s alone. - he said before she could even question his appearence at this party. - C’mon, I have some red velvet cupcakes, wine and a blanket. Let’s go to the beach.

PRESENT

Y/N had remained at the hospital for the two days he had been in, barely catching a second of sleep until tiredness finally beat her and had her sleeping against the uncomfortable hospital chair. The moment she went to sleep was the moment he woke up from his morphine induced sleep, eyes immediately focusing on her and how her hair fell in front of her face as she rested for the first time in two days. He moved slightly in his bed to better stare at her which led her to wake her up with the noise, moving her head upright immediately.

- You’re awake. - she gave him a sleepy grin, straightening her back. - The doctor said you should be free to go home today.

- You should go home, Y/N. - his voice was still somewhat raspy from all the medication they’d been giving him. - I’m really not worth this.

- I have nothing better to do besides my neighbours are renovating, so it’s awfully noisy.

- Y/N, you really don’t need to be here.

- I think that’s the thing, Frank. - she gave him a soft smile, raising from her couch to go stand near him. - I think ... no, I know, I know I’m always gonna be here.

You said you loved me or were you just being kind or am I losing my ... mind?

everything taglist: @connie326 @lookiamtrying

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan imagine #frank imagine #eb!frank #endings beginnings

200 notes · View notes

nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

Text

Imagine: PRT THREE.

Reader gets a surprise visit from nasty Erik.

This was requested for another part. May be the final part because I didn’t plan for this lol. Wrote this today.

Part One. Part Two.

You had a certain pep in your step that didn’t go unnoticed. Heading towards your Micro Biology classs, books in hand and a blush on your face, you try and discreetly enter the classroom only to find eyes on you. Head down, you pull your hoodie further over your head, sitting down slowly so you wouldn’t gain anymore attention.l

Erik put it on your pussy last night. You ended up spending the night and fucking another two times after the first. After each hard fuck this man’s fat dick would just plump up and harden with the tiniest look in your direction. He loved the way you looked dressed in his large t shirt with your curly hair pulled back from your face. He would kiss your cheeks and stroke it with his thumb lightly, causing you to bite your lip and blush profusely.

He knew what he was doing to you. He was your new addiction and it had only been one night of him. As you open your laptop to begin typing, the vision of him burrowing deep inside of you with your legs over his shoulders had you rubbing your hands over your face. Your shoulders begin to bounce with excitement as you laugh, still perplexed that you even opened your legs and gave your tight pussy away to a 30 year old man.

A hung, freaky, pro of an older man.

“Miss Y/N?”

You hadn’t noticed that your Professor had been calling you the entire time.

“Your research paper, please?”

Your heart sank.

Fuck. You forgot to grab your written paper from your desk within your dorm this morning when you came back around 6:00 am. Brandy, your room mate and close friend, was knocked out on her bed, snoring and all. Brandy didn’t have an 8:00 am class like you did. And to top it all off your paper was also on a flash drive you forgot to bring to class.

“I’m so so sorry, I-“ you shake your head with disappointment in yourself. So much for a 100%

“I forgot to grab it from my desk this morning. I didn’t wake up to the alarm.”

Your professor nodded his head slowly, “Okay, you know how I feel about late assignments, correct? That will be a five point deduction from your grade, Miss Y/N.”

Your professor left it at that, returning back to the discussion about virology and parasitology.

“You know, this shit ain’t really like you, Y/N.”

That deep voice made you laugh. Your assigned partner and school friend, Lakeith, has to have something to say about everything you do.

“Lakeith, mind your business for once, please.” You sass in a hushed tone.

“I would if I wasn’t enjoying the fall of a supposed future Nurse Practitioner.”

With a death glare, you turn to him, his chestnut eyes always a hypnotic thing for you. Then he decides to smile, showing off his dimples.

They weren’t deep like Erik’s but they were still something.

“I got my shit on lock, Sir, worry about scoring higher than me on the TEAS, Mr. Future RN.”

“Baby girl,” he chuckles low, “My shit always on lock. Coming up in here like you just left a dick appointment.”

Your heart flutters. Was it that obvious? I mean, the dick appointment was hours ago but damn it was still written all over your face. You decided not to respond to that portion. He didn’t need to know.

“So, somebody hitting that and you down played every chance I offered? Wow.” He laughs to himself, leaning in towards you, practically all up in your grill.

“You getting some dick, Y/N?” He smiles, his shiny teeth almost blinding. Damn him for being this fine.

“Why are you checking for me so much?” You roll your eyes into your head.

“I’ve been checking for you. Don’t act brand new because you let some other nigga wow you.”

He smelled like cinnamon. Lakeith always smelled good.

But Erik smells like sandalwood and citrus.

Even Erik’s sweat smelled like cologne. The thought of him had you shivering down the spine, you focus your attention back on your typing.

“Yeah, you got a noticeable arch in your back that wasn’t there before.”

You heard a chuckle from Lakeith’s partner in crime, Marvin. Both of them, two Kappa brothers that joked like teenagers.

“Fuck you.” You fire back, flipping him off, “sit on it and spin, nigga.”

“Yeah, okay,” He puts a base in his voice, “I’ll have your little ass sitting and spinning on something if you keep playing with me, big headed ass.”

“You started with me!” You argue back, trying your best to keep your voice low.

“Whatever,” he shoves your head, “do some damn work.”

Kissing your teeth, you throw your led pencil at his head, watching him scrunch his face with discomfort, rubbing the spot that stung.

“Bitch ass,” you end the argument there, cracking your knuckles to get back into the grind. Lakeith wasn’t about to fuck up your A average.

How about Erik and his big Daddy dick fucking you? Remember, he said you can come see Daddy anytime you wanted some dick.

You press down over a series of keys, typing out something like dmcbcdjendh.

———————————-

“And again, this tutoring shit will not help me get through Calculus I. I don’t need some student tryna teach me.”

You ball up the flyer that your calculus teacher gave you for tutoring help. Tossing it in the recycle can, you march out of her office, fuming with fists balled and cheeks puffed out. Yes, you were a straight A student but the last calculus exam you took you received a 79 on it. That had you crying into a bowl of cookies and cream ice cream. Now, she was offering you tutoring yet again. The students who tutored acted so self righteous. She didn’t need for any them laughing at her behind her back or hounding her because they had the upper hand at the moment.

“Y/N!” Your young, chipper, Calculus teacher called out to you. She reminded you of Daria but less moody and socially awkward.

“Yes?” The annoyance in your voice was clear.

“Would you like another referral? There is a guy on campus who is here as a Graduate Student receiving his Doctorate. I graduated with him and he’s basically a genius. If you want, I can set you up over the next few weeks to meet with him during library time.”

Another teacher? Maybe this would help. She lectured crappy and it had you zoning out every few seconds. You had to result in teaching yourself.

“What’s his name?”

She motions for you to re enter her office. Closing the door behind her, you take your once vacated seat, staring at her accomplishments from M.I.T.

“His name is Erik Stevens. He is back getting his Doctorate in Engineering.”

Your Calculus professor handed you his business card. It was laminated, perfect watermark and everything. She didn’t understand the pure shock on your face. How could you forget that name after you moaned it and imprinted it within the hippocampus of your brain.

“Is there something wrong?” She asked with a slight smirk on her face. You must have looked crazy.

“No!!” You take the card, placing it in your hoodie pocket, “No, I just thought of something out of nowhere. You know how that happens sometimes.”

“Yeah,” she laughs it off awkwardly, “Give him a shot, Y/N. He’s really good at what he does.”

“Mhm,” you felt a sudden wetness in your panties. He sure as hell is good at what he does. Even your own teacher recommending him to you had you horny as a bitch.

This fucking man.

“I’ll give him a call today.” You look up at your teacher one last time before grabbing your bag, exiting her office.

//////////////

Erik: Call me and put that pussy on the phone, lol. I wanna hear her talk to me cuz I know she wet as a motherfucker.

You bite on your thumbnail while sitting in one of the study rooms within the Library. You were surrounded by Lakeith and a few other Micro Biology class mates to study for the next exam. You didn’t inform Erik about him tutoring you yet because you wanted to drive over to his apartment and tell him in person.

Y/N: It is wet, but I’m in study group right now I can’t show you. 😩

You were NEVER this damn bold with a guy.

“Y/N, you’re supposed to be the one writing on the white board what the fuck you doing?” Lakeith startles you from your sexting.

“Shit, my bad,” you stand up, grabbing your phone and expo marker. The group began telling you information to write out, your mind in tune with education. After applying the top to your marker, you hear a soft knock on the door as if knuckles were tapping it. Craning your neck, you make out the outline of a guy around 6’3, new balance on his feet and a navy blue Champions sweatshirt with matching pants. He had a black North Face beanie on his head, with an artistic pair of gold rimmed glasses on.

At first glance you didn’t recognize him but the moment you stepped closer to the door to open it, a deep pleasure ran through your veins like lava. With a sly smirk on his face, he leans into the door further, staring down at you while curling a single finger for you to come here. He bit down on his bottom lip the moment you were staring at him face to face, the only barrier between you both was the door. He jiggles the door knob, motioning with a tilt of his head for you to open it before he did. Sighing nervously, you open the door, his body smelling like testosterone and patchouli. The thought of the pheromones he produced after sex had you buckling at the knees.

“You in here studying?” He asks with a whisper.

You knew eyes were on you at that door.

“Yes, Biology.” You respond, but not with a whisper. You didn’t need any of them wondering why you were being secretive.

“What kind?” He asks with a tilt of his head, his finger discreetly stroking your hand. You pause to breathe, shifting on your feet.

“Micro.” You meet his gaze, blinking away as soon as you saw the heavy lust there. Why did he have to bring his fine ass over here? Clearly he was in the library the entire time. He did say he’d been watching you around campus and he wanted your thick ass for a long while. So maybe he was watching you study with friends?

“Were you keeping an eye on me, Erik?” You smirk.

“That’s all I can keep on you for now, ma. Ain’t like I can keep this dick on you while you in front of your friends.”

Erik looks over your shoulder. His eyes fell on Lakeiths. He knew from that moment that homeboy wanted you. It was all over that niggas face.

“Let me help I know a lot about Micro Biology.”

Erik wasn’t asking really because he pushes past you, fully within the room. You shutter slightly before closing the door, taking in calming breaths.

“Can we help you?” Lakeith speaks for the group like he was the leader.

“Nah, looks like y’all need it though,” Erik takes it upon himself to spread your notes out on the desk, craning his eyes behind his glasses to read what you had. He takes his other hand, stroking his gotee before turning to the white board.

“Y’all sure y’all know how to study for this?” He asks with a joking tone. Lakeith and Marvin share a look before turning back to Erik.

“Yeah, we got this, bruh. You looking at the top students in the class.”

Erik nods his head slowly, “How about you, Y/N? He speaking for you like he know you smart.”

Lakeith laughs, “we work close together all the time. I know she got it going on.”

Erik lifts a single brow, taking your notes to stack neatly, “Y/N, this nigga always speak for you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, staring from Erik to Lakeith. There was clearly a weighing of dicks in this room but Erik would come out on top for sure, gold metal and all.

“Not always, but he has a habit to sometimes,” you hide your smile, focusing back to the white board.

“Y/N,” Erik calls for you. He had the right to do that you felt. He opened your pussy up and ate your pussy like a bowl of ice cream, licking his fingers and all. He could call you and you would answer.

“Yes?” You turn to him, giving him your undivided attention.

“You want me to help you study? I can do that right now I got time before my evening class starts,” he places his hands in his pants pockets, waiting for your answer. You both knew you would say yes, and you didn’t hesitate either. This could lead to what you needed.

“Okay, sure,” you try and pack your things but Erik was already on it, zipping up your back pack and throwing it over his shoulder. He walks to the door, opening it for you to leave first.

“You not gonna say goodbye to your little friends?” He says with a smirk before licking his lips.

“Bye y’all, see you this Wednesday,” you step out of the study room, Erik’s arm around your shoulder. Before you could leave the library, Erik pulls you in between an aisle full of history books, slamming you against the shelf. He pauses, trying to keep the solitude of the library at bay.

“Who is that little nigga?” He asks you with a calm that had you squirming.

“His name is Lakeith.” You respond with a whisper.

His eyes look from your toes and back up to your face. Erik takes off your hood, your messy curly bun frizzy from wearing it all day.

“Damn, you ain’t even fix this after I was all in yo’ shit last night.” He laughs with a deep raspy tone.

“I didn’t have time,” you whine, pouting like a baby.

“Why the fuck are you so cute? He had a slight tendrill of anger building up, you could tell from how his brows furrowed, “why you so damn cute, lil mama? Out here having these weak dick niggas craving you.“

You swallow spit, shrugging your shoulders nervously, “I don’t know.”

“What I tell you about that I don’t know shit?”

You forgot he didn’t like for you to tell him that.

“Sorry.”

“All you gonna do is say the shit again. But it’s cool, I know you remember how this strong dick nigga had you crying.” He was even closer now, breath on your cheek.

“I mean, to be honest, aint like you can do much about being the cutest bitch on campus. Cutest bitch with the tightest pussy.”

You could feel him grabbing your breasts with no restraint. Anybody could spot the both of you. You watch as he unzips your hoodie, the thin t shirt you wore underneath giving him a clear view of your big ass nipples.

“Y/N....shit,” he takes both, pinching your nipples and playfully slapping them.

“Big ass titties.” He kisses your neck on both sides with a little tongue.

“Erik,” you moan out with a shiver.

“I’m the only one allowed to put it on you, you hear me?” He whispers. Erik pulls you from the shelf by the collar of your shirt, palming your ass hard before slapping it.

“Daddy is gon’ be all in your shit girl, you wait and see,” he bit your ear, taking you by your hips to make you grind on him from the front. It was the wildest shit ever. You never did anything like this in public. For the most part it was kissing and ass grabbing but not this.

Erik pulls one of your legs up, his hands on the shelf while he dry humped your crotch.

“Damn, babygirl, that leg all the way up there, huh?” He pulls you with three quick pumps over his clothed and now fully hard dick. You could feel it against your leg and it was long as hell. He had you so open last time...Damn, he was gonna do that shit again.

“Let me stop before I have a big ass nut,” he chuckles, lowering your leg but never moving his hand away from your ass, “girl, when we get back to my place, I swear to God your ass is mine.”

————————————

“You’re so hard, I can feel all of that big dick, Daddy.”

You moan while grinding on his crotch, wet pussy wrapped around his bare dick. The minute you stepped out of his car and entered his apartment, he started undressing you without a word. Now here you were, fully naked and coating his dick with that good sticky shit. Erik has his fingers on your clit, rubbing in a slow circle while he instructed you to keep wetting his dick down to his balls.

Erik places his fingers within his mouth before grabbing your waist, angling you and making you bounce on his dick in rhythm with his grinding. It was an erotic sight to see, legs spread wide, pussy wet, hard dick all slick.

“Fuck, Y/N, got me ready to buss a fucking nut, damn girl!” He slaps your ass, “You ain’t all sweet, your little ass a fucking devil. What kinda sweet girl put a pussy like this on a nigga? Ain’t never heard of that.”

Erik grabs his dick, smacking your pussy with it, “Get on your fucking knees. Go on, ma, get down there.”

You were on your knees now, grabbing his dick with one hand, licking yourself off of him.

Damn this girl.

“Y/N, don’t be shy girl, c’mon, lil mama,” Erik motions for you to take him more, “open up...yesss, just like that. Mhm, good girllll.”

You gag on him. He was just so big. You had to stop and look at his dick like it was from another world. He laughs at your tear stained face and swollen lips. The spit on your chin he had a lot of fun with it seems, smearing it in with his fingers.

“I ain’t say you were done,” he jerks his dick, smacking you in the chin, “let’s go, ma, dick ain’t gonna suck itself.”

You grab him up, sucking him again. This time, he was fatter than before. What the hell was this! Your pussy was leaking, no lie. You could feel it on your thighs. Fuck if you weren’t sucking his dick. Erik rolled his eyes, head falling back when your tongue snaked up his dick.

“And you was tryna play scared?! Shit,” he shakes his head, “scared of what Y/N? You ain’t afraid of all this big dick.”

Erik grabs your hair, fucking into your mouth. You grab his thighs, eyes on him while he fucks your mouth.

“Damn, I’m balls deep in your mouth.” He grunts, pushing one final time before releasing your mouth, a thick stream of spit caught on your lips.

“Sloppy mouth bitch.” He slaps you with his dick. You were so astonished. He just hit you with his dick.

“Fuck. Me,” he looked from his dick to your wet face, “Come ride Daddy.”

You climb up, watching him apply a condom again. You pout with sadness, looking down at him roll the condom over all that spit on his dick. The vision was covered and it had you rolling your eyes.

“Fuck you doing all that for?” He caught that shit.

“If you fuck me raw I won’t act like this,” you speak in a timid tone. Erik licks his lips leaning back to admire you.

“You want some raw dick?”

You nod yes.

“Ard...take the condom off then.”

Quickly, you snatch it off, throwing it to the ground.

“Like I said, a slut for this dick,” he pulls you over him, “Get up here and fuck me since you want it raw. Fuck this dick like you tryna mold my shit in that little kitty.”

You squat over him on your tip toes, rubbing his dick over your clit a bit before lowering over him. He slaps your ass extremely hard, the connection complete and your lips in a full pout now.

“Yeah, thats my fucking girl, such a good little girl. Making that face I like, that dumb struck face with all this dick in you balls deep, fuck.”

You start bouncing, hands on his shoulders and head thrown back.

“Ohmygodddd ohmygoddddd.”

He was really hitting different. It was so much pressure you were sure to squirt. The dick was knocking on your walls for a squirt in return. Damn, his big dick was all the way in there. Shit didn’t make no sense.

“You hear all that?” He speaks to you but you were dickmatized, “you are splashing on me, girl! What the fuck!” You sure were. You could hear it loud and clear.

“Yes I am, oh my Godddd,” you gasp.

“Yes I am, Daddy. I’m so wet, Daddy.”

“You taking this big dick girl, it’s okay for me to keep fucking you like this? Fuck, Y/N this pretty pussy so wet.”

His hands were everywhere. He was low on the couch, hips pumping up into you with his eyes low and on your face. You were in an eye lock with him and it made the moment even better.

“Never thought you would be bouncing on this dick did you?” You both shake your heads at the same time, “I already know I just wanted you to agree with me, sexy bitch.”

You watch as he presses his hand into your back, lifting your leg with the other hand, pounding into you, beating your shit in.

“Damn, ma, I got you looking possessed,” he says all of this while fucking you deeper, flesh smacking louder, “mhmmm, this cool? Huh? Daddy hitting that spot, right?”

You were in no shape to speak. This man had a tight grip on your leg while he beat the brakes off your pussy.

“Shit better than the first time? You getting all of me girl ain’t no holding back. You want this raw dick you taking it like a big girl.” He slows down, making you feel every inch. It was literal murder.

“You a big girl,” he looks down at the way his dick was fucking you, “big girl when you getting this pussy fucked.”

“Fuck, yes.” You moan out. You’d be a big girl and take anything. This man had you wide open.

Damn, hold up, shit,” Erik slips out, arching you over the couch now. He used your shoulders, pushing you down so your face was pressed into the cushions. Your ass was pointed so far up, pussy spread wide for him to slip inside with ease. Your pussy was already wet anyway so he would be in that shit with no problem real soon.

“Throw this phat ass back on me.”

You move with as much energy as you could force. He had you tired. You move your hips seductively while throwing it back, your eyes on him to watch his every reaction. You watched him take in a deep breath, several to be exact, trying his best to control the urge to cum.

“This little pussy finna make me buss.”

You were about to buss from the way his head stroked your sweet spot.

“Ahh, I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you grab the back of the couch, legs shaking and cum spilling out like warm sugar.

“Pussy so sweet, Y/N,” he grabs your hips, taking control now while drilling you. The change of pace had your mouth wide open and eyes glossy from the pressure.

“Damn, you really in there!” You yell, back muscles flexing from the intense feeling. This man was stirring your guts around like a bowl of noodles.

“You putting it on me Daddy I don’t wanna stop!!!” You yell with literal tears in your eyes. You were being completely honest. You didn’t want him to ever stop. You wanted him to keep going and going.

“Putting it on this tight pussy?” He asks with a smirk, “This my tight pussy, you hear me? My tight pussy, little mama.”

“Yes, it’s for you!” You couldn’t believe it, you were cumming again, “DADDY MY PUSSY!!!”

The way you reacted to him had his balls tight and dick rippling, ready to cum.

“Best believe little girl I’m taking. this. SHIT.” He started fucking then stoping, fucking then stopping, like a pattern of torture. Your body would jerk forward in surprise, and then he would stop for about three seconds leaving your clit a throbbing mess. Each time he started back up you would gasp, the surprise of it leaving you motionless and breathless.

“Mhm,” he stops, slapping your ass, “Mhm.”

You reach back, hoping for him to grab your wrists. When he does, you prepare for the pounding of your life. Arching more, you feel him increase momentum, eyes growing lower and lower each time. He had you hooked. That’s it. You were fucking Erik Stevens from now on.

“How you feel about me bussing this pussy open?” He says in a breathless tone.

“I feel so good, Daddy.”

/////////////////////

You watch as he sucks on your nipples, your shirt lifted over your head. You just got out of the shower, your legs weak. He had you against his front door, wet hair all over your face and chest arched forward into his mouth. You cry and do it loudly like a whiny brat, his tongue flicking your nipples in the best way.

“Daddy...stop...” you push at him weakly.

He starts sucking like a damn baby and you extend your head back, hitting the door with a loud thud.

“Chill out,” you say between breathless moans. He was a damn animal for you.

“Daddy, what the fuck,” you rub your thighs together, “ooo...stop,”

He doesn’t say a word as he tongues and sucks on your titties. Nipple play never aroused you this much. Erik was a man of firsts for you. How was it that you could feel your pussy throb and drip from this? His eyes meet yours while he flicks his tongue over your right nipple. Damn, he was a fine motherfucker with a mouth you wanted to sit on. Imagine having a tongue like that slipping from front to back and side to side in your slit.

“Daddy eat my pussy,” you ask with no regard.

“Suck on that pussy?” He lifts with spit on his chin, “If I eat it you ain’t going no where for the night cuz im only gonna fuck you again.”

“So?” You sass, “plus, I’m gonna be here more often anyway. My calculus teacher recommended me to you for tutoring.”

He looks at you with dark eyes of lust while twirling your nipples, “Damn, forreal?”

“Yeah, I figured you could reward me with more dick if I do well.”

“Yeah, I can do that. But that means you gotta do well though.”

You kiss your teeth, “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“Put that bag down and undress. Squat over the couch with that pussy sitting over the edge, okay?” He said it so casually, his naked chest looking edible.

“Okay,” you put your bag down, undressing again. You know you looked a mess but he didn’t care about that shit. Walking to the couch, you watch him as he takes a hit from his blunt. You get into position, arching with your legs wide and pussy sitting for his mouth. Erik admires you while blowing smoke from his lips, walking over to you and getting on his knees.

“You gon pop that ass and pussy while I eat your juicy shit from the back?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“Good.”

You could feel him turning around, his arms up and on your ass, spreading you wide. You feel his lips kissing your pussy, eyes closing with bliss. He tongues your folds apart, his tongue dancing with your nectar. He slobs, then slurps, slobs, then slurps, a continuous pattern. Each time you would flinch, your clit jumping each time he did it. Fuck if you would get your pussy ate from someone else. He knew your pussy like the back of his hand. His tongue started flicking upward, only the tip of it teasing your clit and inner folds. It moved all over, Erik working that thing. You claw at the couch, turning your head no matter how painful to try and watch how he did that. This man was full of surprises.

“Daddy, how you doing that?” You ask with a sweet tone. He responds with a sloppy kiss to your clit. You fall against him, giving in to his dance.

“Fuck, Daddy.” You start popping your ass, the feeling of his gold slugs making you shiver. Shit, he was making you cum. Already this man was making you squirt. You were overwhelmed.

“SHIT,” you shake, pussy squirting in his mouth. He applauds you with a slap to the ass before going back to work. Now your clit was overworked and sensitive. The more he slobs the more you cum. And just like that, you were creaming.

“Oh, fuck yeahhhhh.” You talk into the couch cushion beneath you.

“My dick hard again. I told you.” He stands, dick ready to rip through his sweats.

You could hear your phone ringing, sure that it was Brandy but all that didn’t matter, Erik had you up in the air. You could see yourself in his mirrors that he had on his living room wall over his TV. You were so small compared to him. He’s taller, extremely taller, and so toned and cut, not one part of his body was covered with fat. He looked into that mirror too, eyes on you at times but also on the way he held you up like you were as light as an infant, bringing you down over his dick. Each time you both connected he would look back at you to catch your reaction. It didn’t matter how this man fucked you, it was great each time.

Erik walks over to the mirror while he still bounced you, turning sideways now, those full lips of his pouty and his eyes low and hazy.

“Creaming on me something serious,” he rewards you for that buy fucking up into you quickly. Your toes curl, hands around the back of his neck squeezing.

“Y/N, damn,” he scrunches his face, hands palming your ass to keep you up and open for him, “Baby girl, look at me.”

You look at him, moans stuck in your throat.

“Why you letting me take this pussy like this? You not afraid to fall for a nigga?”

You were already falling. It was only day two. He knew what he was doing. He played the game well.

“You not afraid to fall for me?” You catch your breath, “you’re not afraid to get pussy whipped by a girl like me? A little mama?”

“Nah, ma,” Erik shakes his head with a smirk, “not at all.”

You blush, your pussy gushing further over him. He may be your fuck buddy now but the thought of him being more excited you. He made you forget about your ex. Erik was the man of your dreams now a reality.

“Shit, I’m about to have a big fuck nut!!!” You watch as he fucks you at full throttle, body bouncing, wet pussy sliding, moans and groans loud for the entire apartment complex to hear.

“Fuck, girl!!!!” Erik slips out, resting you on the floor while cumming on your face and titties. You catch as much as you could and scrape up the rest to put on your tongue. Erik watched you with primal eyes, his sweat dripping on you. The sweat that smelled like citrus and patchouli. While you tasted and swallowed his cum you wished he would cum in you. You know why but damn his dick was good that’s where you wanted it next! You could only beg for it honestly.

“Ard, ma, time to get up we got some studying to do.” He picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You watch him pick up your back pack Erik walking you back to his bedroom. How were you going to study and get through the semester with Erik’s dick in you at any given opportunity? This was going to be tough. Erik drops you on the bed, your body bouncing. As you sit up and fold your legs, Erik opens you bag while his blunt rested between his lips, pulling all of your things out that you needed.

“I’m serious about this studying, shorty. Education is important. You want me to help you out you gotta pay attention to everything I tell your little ass, Aight?”

“Okay, whatever you say, Erik.” You pull your hair up into a top knot bun.

“Gotta work hard for what you want,” he looks at you, a smirk growing on his face, “you hear me talking to you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Daddy Erik when I’m in that puss, professor Erik when we hitting these books,” he takes a puff of his weed, “you smoke?”

You take the blunt without answering, smoking a little.

“Aight, what you get on your calculus exam?”

You felt embarrassed to say. You knew he would frown at you if you told him what it was.

“I’m an A average student, Erik.” You try and ease away from answering his question. His eyes were on you like he was ready to fuck you yet again.

“Ma,” he shakes his head, “just tell me. What you get?”

“A fucking 79.”

“You can do better but that’s better than shit I’ve seen. Stop beating yourself up, Y/N.”

His words had you dripping on his bed. You bounce, titties jumping and a seductive smile on your face. Your eyes focus on him, his still hard dick pointed to your mouth. He bites the corner of his lip, eyes peeking at the way your big ass titties looked bouncing. With a shake of his head and closed eyes, Erik grabs you by the chin, making you look up at him. He opens his eyes real slow, trapping you.

“Just suck my dick again, ma. You did that shit right the first time. I like the way you look chocking on my stick.”

Yep, this was going to be difficult.

@dameshaemonique @sheisexcellent1 @blktinkerbell

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

1K notes · View notes

firesidefantasy · 4 years

Text

Based on this:

An empty parking lot was always creepy, especially in the middle of the night. It was unnatural. Supermarkets were the center of the human experience, the provider of sustenance and life, and to see one so void of people was wrong. It sent shivers down Callie's spine. She hated parking lots and shadows and leaving the house when the hypothetical murderers came out to play. She tugged the sleeves of her black band sweater down and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

Behind her, the sound of a shopping cart against concrete broke the unnerving silence. It was accompanied by a loud cheer and then two morons rushed past her, both clinging onto the sides of the shopping cart for dear life. It rattled down the parking lot, pink hair fluttering behind them and a stray beanie lost to the wind. Callie winced as the shopping cart banged into a brick wall and the two idiots went tumbling to the ground.

"I have the worst taste in girls."

Callie sighed and scooped the black beanie up from the ground. Tyler and Bailey rushed towards her, making enough noise to fill the entire parking lot and probably give the poor staff inside a heads up of the impending chaos.

"Did you see that?" Bailey asked, jumping on the spot and grinning so brightly that Callie could hardly resist smiling back. "It was awesome!"

"Something like that," Callie muttered, tugging the beanie back onto Tyler's head. The black fabric melded in with her black hair and she quickly pushed Callie's hands away so she could put it on properly.

"You should come with us next time," Bailey grabbed Callie's hand and dragged her towards the supermarket entrance. "You need to loosen up a bit."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"A short miracle," Tyler muttered. She walked faster than the others and ventured into the supermarket alone, leaving Callie and Bailey lagging behind. At the beginning of their relationship, Callie had taken that kind of behaviour really personally. Now she knew that Tyler just liked being alone.

"The real miracle is how you got Ty into that shopping cart with you," Callie poked Bailey's side and grinned at the little squirm she elicited from the girl. "Your powers are never ending."

"I'm cute," Bailey shrugged.

Callie pressed a kiss into the top of her messy hair and hummed. "That you are. Get a basket will you? I'm going to check out the magazines."

Bailey skipped off to hunt down a basket and Callie found herself watching for a moment, amazed at just how hyper and adorable Bailey got after a glass of vodka. Seriously watered down vodka, at that. Tyler refused to mix their lightweight of a girlfriend drinks that weren't at least three quarters fruit juice. It wasn't a bad rule. Bailey was a very emotional drunk.

Callie picked up a magazine and flicked through it, glancing at the articles on various historical moments recorded in this edition. Bailey came running back over with a shopping basket in hand and Callie dropped a history magazine and a science one inside.

"I want a magazine too," Bailey pouted, and Callie just waved her hand at the display. Magazines were expensive and Bailey never actually read them, but Bailey also liked to be included in everything they did, and Callie knew better than to argue with either of her girlfriends when they were intoxicated.

"Now we just need snacks," Bailey grinned. She was scampering off to the food aisles before Callie could say another word and the girl just traipsed after her with a smile. "Biscuits- oh, we need biscuits. And candy. Where's the candy? Chocolate too, for sure, and some crisps. Probably Doritos because they're just naturally superior. I need some bubblegum as well so me and Ty can recreate that scene from-"

"Baby, oh my God," Callie wrapped her arms around Bailey from behind and kissed her cheeks, "slow down. There's candy over here. Do you want me to go get you some bubblegum?"

"Yes please. Bubblegum and laundry detergent if you can see any."

Callie frowned and laughed in confusion, "laundry detergent? You're not eating tide pods, babe."

"We need laundry detergent!" Bailey turned around in her arms and kissed her lips, "I'm tipsy, not an animal."

"Whatever you say," Callie laughed. She shook her head and ventured off to track down bubblegum and whatever household items they needed. Understanding the way Bailey's mind worked was beyond her.

Callie grabbed a handful of bubblegums and started scanning the store for laundry detergent when she felt a hand wrap around her arm. She jumped right out of her skin in shock and nearly pulled her arm away, only stopping when she saw who it was. Callie let out a relieved chuckle.

"Shit, Ty. You scared me."

"Sorry," Tyler muttered, reaching up to even out the strings of Callie's hoodie.

She softened at the sight of her girlfriend and gently patted the girl's hand where it rested against her hoodie. "You okay?"

Tyler shrugged. "I'm not not okay."

Callie gave her hand a little squeeze before dropping it. "Would you mind grabbing some laundry detergent? I need to get back to babysitting Bailey before she buys out half the store. Unless you want to babysit?"

"Nope," Tyler shook her head quickly, "I'm good with the laundry detergent."

"Thought so," Callie laughed, and gave Tyler a soft smile. "Cheese crackers and all the hugs in the world when we get home. Promise"

Tyler smiled back, a little forced but a solid effort, and left to track down the laundry detergent. And, hopefully, some cheese and crackers, because Callie knew they had all but run out back home. She tried not to worry too much about the girl and walked back down the aisles in search of concerning girlfriend number two.

It took another twenty minutes to negotiate Bailey down to six candies, four chocolate bars, two bags of crisps, and five different types of biscuit, and by the time she was done, Callie didn't think anything law school threw her way would be a challenge. She tossed in a couple of bottles of soda to sweeten the deal and left to pay for it all.

Tyler met them at the checkout with an armful of cheese, crackers, and household essentials. Bailey took to organising all of their junk food on the conveyor belt like a game of tetris, so Callie and Tyler struck up a conversation with the cashier. It was a careful game: they couldn't be too friendly and weird the cashier out, but they had to keep him distracted long enough for Bailey to pack all of their food into the bags in just as pristine a format on the other side.

"And she's taking football as well? You must be so proud."

"Well, I think that's all," Tyler interjected, glancing at the fully packed bags in Bailey's hands. "Good night."

Callie smiled at the cashier, "I hope Amelia passes her violin exam!"

Tyler dragged her off and they scurried out of the supermarket.

"How do you even bond with a cashier that quickly?"

"Quickly? Bailey's packing technique gives me enough time to bond with fuckin' Hitler if need be."

"Hey," Bailey pouted, swatting Layla's leg with the side of a carrier bag, "you'll be thankful for my packing methods when we have to unpack this all on the other side."

"You'll just dump it all out on the sofa and you know it."

Bailey giggled and stuck her tongue out at them, "I call shotgun!"

Tyler groaned and chased after her. "I am not sitting in the back again!"

#writeblr #amwriting #ot3 #do i know what this is?#not at all #did i edit this?#only partly #am i gonna post it anyway?#apparently so #now i really need to sleep bc i have stayed up until 1am to write this absolute mess of a drabbe lmao #inspiration hits in the weirdest ways

10 notes · View notes

breanime · 5 years

Text

Start Over

I’m so sorry it took for me to get this, but here it is! This is more of a drabble than a fic, but I hope you like it!

Request: from @eversonaive Hi. If you have time could do a quick fic about billy at the baseball field and he runs into an old teammate/foster sibling. They try to convince him how losing his memories is a good thing, he can start over and leave the past behind. But he is stuck on his detruction revenge path. Super angst if you dont get around to it/ its not original enough that's fine. I can only imagine your getting flooded with ideas :) thanks!!

*gif not mine* (I’m upset because I wanted to use a gif with the brown cap, but this is all I could find using the gif search tool)

Billy Russo had been the only good thing in your otherwise shitty childhood. He’d been tough and cool and badass when you could only manage to cower and cry. Billy had taught you how to defend yourself, how to use your intelligence to get what you wanted, how to manipulate people—but more than anything, he taught how you to survive.

You’d gotten the impression, growing up, that Billy didn’t bother to grace most people with his presence—and you were right. You’d never been able to decipher, as the years went by, what made you special in his eyes, but you were damn grateful to have been. You lost contact with Billy once he’d left the Group Home. He joined the military as soon as he was able, and he wrote to you pretty regularly, but you’d lost touch by his second tour and your moving away from New York. Every now and again, you’d think about him, but you figured he’d forgotten all about you. So when you did move back to New York, you didn’t bother trying to link up with him, thought you did look him up and found out that Billy had become quite notorious in the time you’d been apart.

According to Google (God bless Google), Billy had been the owner of a lucrative security company called Anvil and had been one of the city’s most eligible bachelors…that was, of course, before the Punisher gave him a glass shards makeover. Apparently, Billy had gotten into some shady dealings that led to mass murder, bombings, and not a small number of serious federal crimes. Even though you hadn’t seen or spoken to him in years, it still made you sad to see what had become of him. You had always thought that Billy was destined for greatness, that he would rise above his poor beginnings and make something of himself.

In a way…you were right.

So, one cool evening, you found yourself at one of your favorite childhood spots—the baseball diamond—thinking of your old friend. You could still him in your mind’s eye; dark, tousled hair, almost black eyes, a scowl on his handsome face, bruises on his knuckles. He used to wear this brown skullcap that you hated and leather jackets—even if it was warm out. He had three pairs of shoes when you knew him, two pairs of ratty white sneakers and his brown loafers he had to wear whenever he had to go to court (Billy was a regular in the juvenile court). You thought about the way he would look at people, a sneer on his face as he got talked down to by adults, the smirk he got whenever he flirted with the best-looking person on the bus… You remembered the letters he wrote you—hell, you still had them somewhere in your apartment—and felt a familiar ache go through you. You missed Billy. You missed who he was and felt sorry for what he became. You wrapped your coat around you, shielding yourself from the brisk wind, and sighed. There was no one around you for miles, and the only sounds were the whistle of the wind and the soft sounds of traffic in the distance. Staring out at the field in front of you, you could practically see Billy—grinning from ear to ear—as he waved to you from home base. Hell, you could hear his voice, loud and clear as a bell yelling “This one’s for you, Y/N! Look Y/N! Y/N!”

“Y/N.”

You practically jumped out of your skin when you heard a deep voice say your name. You turned to see Billy Russo standing behind you in the stands, hands in his pockets. His face was littered with scars, but otherwise he pretty much looked the same. He was even wearing the same beanie cap.

“Hi,” he said, lifting a hand up as a greeting. You could see the bruises, dark red, even from where you stood.

“Billy,” you gasped out, your breath coming out as a puff of air in the dark, “I… What… What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, sitting down beside you. “I was trying to…to remember some things. About me, about a friend of mine…I ended up here.” He glanced over at you before looking straight ahead again. “Do you know what I’ve done?”

“I… I read a few things,” you answered carefully, “I read that you were locked up.”

“I was,” he said coolly, “I got out. Escaped.” He rubbed his hands together in front of him. “I ain’t goin’ back I…” He shook his head. “I lost my memories,” he said, nose twitching in annoyance, “not…not the old stuff, I… I remember you,” he glanced over at you again, “I remember the home….remember Arthur.” He cracked a smile at the look of disgust that came over your face. “Yeah, I see you remember him too.” Billy cleared his throat. “But the uh, the memories I lost, they’re from… They’re from after that. Way after. I woke up and this,” he gestured to his face, “is the first thing I saw. I couldn’t remember what happened or who did this to me…”

“You should get out of town,” you said, leaning over to make eye contact with him. His eyes looked hollow, nowhere near as lively or deep as you remembered them. “The—the cops are probably looking for you, it’s not safe. Shit. You shouldn’t be here.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, voice calm, “Cops can’t stop me now. This…What this is, what I’m doing here, it ends with me.” He stared off into the distance, face hard. “I’m gonna take ‘em all down,” he promised, “every last one of ‘em who had anything to do with what happened to me.”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “But…But you said your memories were gone…”

“They are.”

“And… and you’re a wanted man, right?”

He smirked. “What else is new?”

“But the—the NYPD hasn’t caught up with you, the Feds, whoever—you’re still here, you’re free,” you turned to Billy, heart pounding as you looked at your old friend, “Billy, you can leave. You can get out of the city and start over. You—you can move on without all the baggage, without all the pain—”

“No,” his jaw was set, “I can’t.” He turned to you, and his eyes were suddenly burning. “I have to do this. I have to kill them.” He licked his lips. “Kill them all. Everything I had, everything that mattered to me, they took from me, Y/N.” He stood up, shaking his head as he did so. “Nah. This ends with them dead or me dead or both. There’s no other way.” He looked down at you, and you struggled to look back through the tears gathering in your eyes. “This… I’m glad I ran into you, Y/N. I wasn’t expecting to this, but… It’s nice to see that…at least you haven’t change.” He leaned down and pecked your forehead. “It was good seeing you, Y/N.”

And with that, he was gone.

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

So this was my first time writing a truly gender-neutral character, since the request didn’t specify. Thanks for reading!

TAGLIST: @floralpeaceofmind @delicatelilyflower @dylanobrusso @ladyblablabla @banditthewriter @something-tofightfor @starsfragments @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @hisgirlwednesdayaddams@fictionwillneverdie @maria-beretta @sadnessxvodka @ymariejp @sunnycolors @moonlightsay @its-all-o-kay @damagelove @keyeluh @itsmylife98 @funerals-with-cake @littlemermaidprobz @teacuplotus @king4thesirens @mrsjaxtellerfan @thebabblingbook @tartelette-aux-fraises @madamrogers @charlylama @iaintnofurry @k-buggz2001 @whitewolfslittlesilverfox @drinix @elanor-of-imladris @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @julliiaaq @holamor @ymariejp@shadowhunterscloset @songtoyou @anabella-baby @sssilverssserpent @heyitslexy

#billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #the punisher

111 notes · View notes

peterstanslizzie · 5 years

Text

Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 1.6 (Jack of All Trades)

- We first see Mr. Pettis administering a career aptitude test to his 7th grade students. I don’t think my teachers ever handed out those before back in my day. After class, Gordo mentions to his friends that Mr. Pettis has been giving his Bs in Science all semester because he hates Gordo.

- It’s strange because he is usually a straight-A student and the standard of his work is always two steps above the class average. Gordo can’t seem to figure out why that is but we will eventually find out later in the episode.

Career Mismatch & Matt’s New Identity

- At home, Lizzie informs her parents about the career aptitude test she had to take and her parents tell her that they too had taken one before. Jo Mcguire was supposed to be a rock diva with a renowned shoe collection and Sam Mcguire was supposed to be along the lines of a mechanical engineer.

This reminds me of Phineas and Ferb where Phineas, Ferb and Candace’s mom was a famous pop star in the eighties who went by the name of Lindana

- We then hear Matt telling his family that from now on, he wants his name to be ‘M-Dogg’ in reference to Snoop Dogg because he expresses he wants to be different from the rest of his classmates. Both Jo and Sam are not so thrilled about this but at the same time, they don’t want to discourage him.

I wonder how did Matt manage to get this made?

- The next morning, Matt heads to the front door to leave for school and he is dressed in a sort of ‘urban/street‘ getup and Jo demands he changes into something more appropriate. He even installed an ‘M-Dogg’ identity plate on the back of his bike.

Results of the Career Aptitude Test are In

- Mr. Pettis announces that the class is required to carry out an individual science project as part of their unit of the human brain.

- As Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda are waiting anxiously for their test results, they discuss about their future career goals; Lizzie wants to work in an interesting job that requires a lot of travel but at the same time, allowing her plenty of time to take care of her future twins. In reference to the new revival series coming out in 2020, we now know that Lizzie is working as an apprentice to a NYC decorator. I wonder if it fits all the criteria for her ideal job. Miranda just wants to be rich; Don’t we all...

This is not what they envisioned exactly...

- They finally receive their results and they were unsurprisingly off the mark. Miranda is matched to become a Navy Seal, Lizzie gets Cosmetologist her future career and Gordo gets Blackjack Dealer. I think out of all these careers, I’d rather be what Gordo got but I don’t think I could handle being in a room full of smokers (I presume that many casinos have mostly smoking areas?). Plus, I’d probably have to work late hours to make a decent amount of money.

- They take their results too seriously, especially Miranda because she cannot bear to get her hair wet. But Gordo as well gets a bit too hung up about the idea of becoming a Blackjack Dealer.

M-Dogg Goes Too Far

- Lizzie is almost finished with her science project on the Human Brain, which is basically a poster diagram of the central nervous system but she runs of out ink in her marker. She asks Matt for help but forgets to address him as ‘M-Dogg’ and he straight up ignores her. Even when she starts calling him ‘M-Dogg’, he still doesn’t want to help her find another marker.

- Lizzie was clever enough to threaten him to tell everyone that he sleeps on dorky action hero bed sheets. He got the message and immediately hands her over the marker, which was in his hand the whole time.

- Similar to Episode 2, ‘Picture Day’ when Matt pretended to be sick and Jo decided to play a trick on him by making his time at home miserable, his parents kinda do the same thing here by really going for it and addressing him as ‘M-Dogg’ no matter what. Sam even wants Matt to call him ‘Dee Dee’ at all times and Jo wants him to call her ‘Miu Miu’. Like Prada’s Miu Miu lol?

- They’re essentially doing the same thing that Matt has been doing to them and Matt doesn’t respond well to it and starts regretting his decision to request he be called a different name.

Gordo and Lizzie Switches Projects

- Later that night, Lizzie and Gordo are chatting over the phone and Gordo asks Lizzie if they could switch science projects because he realizes that no matter how brilliant his work is, he is always going to end up getting a B. He essentially wants to make sure his project gets the grade it deserves. Lizzie isn’t so sure about it and tells him that she would think about it overnight.

- The thought about them switching projects and passing it off as their own actually made me cringe a bit just because in college, that is considered plagiarism and that comes with a pretty hefty penalty.

I don’t think I could ever build something like this, even as a Biochemistry student at Imperial College London, where I graduated from.

- At school the next day, Gordo shows his friends his amazing, electronic 3D model of the brain in which each section of the brain can be stimulated with the push of a button. He also warns that pressing 2 or more buttons at the same time would overheat the brain model and something bad might potentially happen. Despite all the complications present, Lizzie caves in and agrees to switch in her mediocre project for Gordo’s. Sorry, I had to call a spade a spade and well, she eventually gets a C on her work.

- Mr. Pettis is very impressed with Lizzie’s project and deems it to be A+ grade material. He even asks her if she ever considered a career in Neurology, which somehow triggered Gordo and he confesses to him that he is the one behind that project. He even manages to sneak in a slight diss at Lizzie by saying that she and the rest of his classmates are busy at the water-park trading beanie babies. Gordo! That is so not cool hahaha.

- Enraged with emotions, Gordo begins to demonstrate what his 3D model can do by pushing the buttons of his brain model a bit too quickly one after the other and tells off Mr. Pettis at the same time for not giving him proper credit for all the work he has done over the year.

I really hope the inside of that brain model is just water

- Because of that, his brain model starts heating up and it suddenly explodes and all the gunk from the brain flies straight right into Gordo, Mr. Pettis and Lizzie’s face.

- Mr. Pettis dismisses the class and Gordo is forced to stay behind and before Lizzie could sneak out, she gets called out for plagiarism by Mr. Pettis. Lizzie, who clearly did not understand the concept of plagiarism before this is sure to comprehend it from now on.

Lizzie and Miranda are curious to find out what’s going to happen to Gordo. Lizzie evens asks Miranda to give her a boost so that she can eavesdrop on their conversation through the upper window of the door.

Gordo Learns a Life Lesson

- Gordo confesses to Mr. Pettis that is was his idea to get Lizzie to switch projects with him because he feels it was impossible for him to get a fair grade from his teacher. Mr. Pettis reveals to Gordo that the reason he has been giving him Bs all year is because ever since he got an A- in his first project, he feels like Gordo has been coasting along and not pushing himself to deliver his best work.

Gordo and Mr. Pettis shares a heartwarming moment together

- In turn, this actually caused Gordo to push himself and work 2-weeks straight on his brain model, which is A+ material. So, Mr. Pettis’s technique to get Gordo to bring his A game worked. I get his intention, I really do. But somehow, credit should be given where credit is due.

- Like, I suspect that all of Gordo’s B-grade projects are all worth As if he were to be judged accordingly based on the class curve. But because Mr. Pettis holds him to such a high standard, Gordo is assessed very differently from his peers. But all in all, I really enjoyed this moment between the two. Mr. Pettis just wants Gordo to not rest on being safe and wants him to strive for excellence. And I think these are the best kinds of teachers to have.

- We also get word that even Mr. Pettis doesn’t take the career aptitude test seriously and that when he took the test back in school, he was matched to be a ‘rodeo clown’. These tests are meant to open up their horizons on the different careers out there. Well, I never take these tests seriously at all from the get-go.

Way to play it cool Miranda and Lizzie lol

As Lizzie and Miranda try to eavesdrop again, Gordo opens the door and accidentally scares them, which causes them to both fall. Gordo tells them that after talking to Mr. Pettis, he learns he doesn’t actually hate him and that he can probably get an A by the end of the semester.

M-Dogg is Finished, Finally!

- During dinner at the Mcguire household, Lizzie and her parents are doing all they can to go along with their strategy of only addressing Matt as ‘M-Dogg’ and only responding to him if he calls them their ‘Dee Dee’ and ‘Miu Miu’ names at all times.

- Matt is weird out by this and he tells his parents that he wants to take back his own name if he is able to call his parents mom and dad again. Well, Sam and Jo’s strategy paid off well without having to reprimand him or force him to change back his name. I just hope Matt soon learns how to detect when his parents are playing mind games on him.

Overall Thoughts

- This was a solid episode. There was a really good lesson to take away from the story-line involving Gordo and Mr. Pettis, which is the importance of maximizing your potential and not being too comfortable in being average when you are better than that. Even for the younger kids, they would learn that switching your work with another person and passing it off as your own is considered plagiarism and that could result in marks deducted off your grade or even suspension in more serious cases.

- Again, I really don’t care about Matt’s ‘M-Dogg’ story-line. I said it once and I will say it again, it’s just episode filler. Fortunately, there are some story-lines involving Matt that are interesting and is full of depth later in the series but I would say that especially in Season 1, it’s more filler than depth in my opinion.

7 notes · View notes

musicalmukebox · 6 years

Text

Let’s Get (Back) Together | l.h. (16)

Ctto of the gif!

AU: Parent Trap Dad!Luke

Summary: A strong love which led to a strong marriage and twin daughters. Yet in the end, it didn’t turn out so well. You strongly refuse to encounter him ever again. But what happens when both of you coincidentally send your twin daughters to the same summer camp in Florida after 10 years?

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of cheating

A/N: I’M SO SORRY I DISAPPEARED AGAIN!! Anyways, I am back and I’ll make sure to be more consistent especially that we are near the end! Damn, if you think I’ll let you breathe after all the drama happening, well think again! Hope you enjoy this mix of fluff and angst! I love you all!

I don’t own Parent Trap and its ideas. It’s only used as inspiration.

Masterlist

Main Series Playlist

Feedback/Questions/Others? Here.

2023, Los Angeles

Beads of sweat from your forehead did not cease to stream down continuously while you were leaning forward on the hospital bed, having one hand toughly gripping on one side handle of hospital bed while the other one was clutched on Luke’s arm. Red nail marks trademarked his skin, wincing at every tense squeeze from you, though he couldn’t blame you at all.

“I hate you, Luke Hemmings! So much!”

Not entirely true, you screeched at the discomfort at your lower abdomen. How was your mother capable of this? How did Eleanor do it? They struggled with delivering one child in one go, but how about two in your case? Torture.

“You’re doing well, (Y/N). I can see the head of the first twin!” Dr. Kate praised, viewing your core in its entirety. Your body was growing too exhausted by the intensity and closeness of every contraction that was hitting, and your breaths grew shorter as you pushed. Yet it was like nothing was changing.

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t do this!” You cried out, stopping your motions to pant out all that forced effort and lying back in bed to catch your breath. “You did this to me, Luke! Fuck!”

Luke knew you didn’t mean it, and Lord knew he hated watching you in agony because he contributed half of your current state, fearing whether any complications through the delivery process would erupt. He just wanted everything to be safe and pain-free, until you chose to deliver naturally without any anesthetic. Quite a risk, but you are not bringing your twins through the usage of any drugs.

You were on the verge of giving up at the moment, craving rest before trying again. But the contractions were too strong for you to doze off, which only prolongs the physical agony. Damn, once you see your mother later, you are going to spill out words of praise for being able to handle this. Through your weakest moment, Luke took this opportunity to kiss your hand, and tell you motivating words because he knew you were much stronger than the contractions.

“Fuck (Y/N), I’m so proud of you. You got this, okay? Bean 1 is almost here.”

As simple as they were, it mustered up a few more bits of courage and strength for you to channel. Rising back up from your discomforting position, you signaled Dr. Kate that you were ready to go at it. “You sure, (Y/N)? You drained yourself in that last round, and you have another child to deliver.”

Gazing up to meet Luke’s eyes, who has not leaving yours, he held on to your sweaty palm with a hopeful look. “Absolutely.”

Two more tear-jerking pushes alongside a few screams and bean number one was out. Grunting out a heavy breath, your body sunk back at the bed in exhaustion though there was a slight decrease in pressure at your lower region. As you tried to catch your breath, loud wailing surfaced within the hustling of the nurses cleaning off the firstborn. Your droopy eyes got a look of the child, and in awe is the best way to describe this moment.

“It’s a baby girl, Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings. Congratulations.”

Luke couldn’t stray away from the little babe getting cleaned up by one of the nurses, already impatient to carry her in his arms. Most first-time fathers would be fearful with carrying their newborns, yet Luke felt otherwise. He’s waited so long for a child of his own, though having two at the same time isn’t any different.

Though before you would formally meet her, there was still another one who is dying to be delivered and eager to meet its parents. Yes, it. Luke and you chose to find out the gender of the twins on the delivery day. Luckily, bean number two was kind enough to be less painful than its older sister and slid out so easily after three pushes.

At long last, full relief has washed over you with heavy fatigue after almost 20 hours of labor. Slowly resting back on the bed, bean number two screamed its lungs out to alarm of its beginning of life, and only there, tears came running down after everything that has just happened.

“Another baby girl only 10 minutes apart, Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings. Congrats again.”

It’s finally official, you are both parents.

When baby number two was quickly cleaned off the fluids that stuck to her body, she and her other sister were carried by two young nurses and handed one each to you and Luke. They were already sleeping peacefully, fidgeting a bit to find that comfortable position to continue their slumber. The younger one was with you, sporting a knitted purple beanie which you’ve received as a gift from Eleanor on your baby shower. Her cheeks were irresistible not to caress with your index finger up and down, gaining a tiny smirk that softened your heart. “Hi, baby. It’s your mom. Oh, you’re so beautiful.”

Admiring her quietly and even nuzzling your face on her fragrant figure with the famous ‘baby smell’. Dr. Kate’s voice pulled you out of your daze just for a few seconds with a question. “Have you thought of a name, (Y/N)?”

“Yes.” You beamed with pride.

“What would it be then?” Dr. Kate inquired, clicking her black pen down to release the tip as she prepares to write.

“Rebecca Audrey Hemmings.” You catapulted back up to your upright position, acting more proper. Well, tried because Rebecca’s tiny nose was worth a boop or two. “Rebecca because as the youngest, she binds our family together, then Audrey from one of my favorite and classiest actresses of all time, Audrey Hepburn.”

When Dr. Kate got the necessary details, she excused herself with another round of congratulations to share. Now you are left with little Rebecca, you watched her as she abruptly woke up and whimpered because the noises from Dr. Kate woke up.

“Oh, no no. Please don’t cry.” Your whispers negotiated, which worked for a bit until she whimpered again. Rocking her back and forth didn’t work as you wanted, then a different approach came across your mind. Unbuttoning the first few buttons of your night gown that you changed to after the delivery, your free and swollen breast was in contact with the small lips of Rebecca, coming closer when she found the nipple. Thank goodness she suckled on it sweetly than roughly, but at least she was satisfying her hunger.

“Aren’t you a hungry one? Definitely like your mother over here.”

In fact, this simple moment bonded you closer to her, letting yourselves become transparent and vulnerable to each other. You being fatigued and her being new to the world. Side by side, the possibilities of future is endless, and you’ll make sure that you’ll bless her with a great one.

Meanwhile, Luke was tied down on his older daughter by the window, rocking her back in forth with the view of the night sky. Her tiny pupils opened a tiny bit, revealing an identical blue color to her father’s. They were doe-like, full of innocence and unaware of the big world she has joined.

“Would you look at that? We have matching blue eyes.”

Obviously, the newborn could do nothing but stare back at the adult who was in utter captivation by her, his lips parting. Luke trailed a finger on her soft rosy cheeks, which was met by a tight grip of tiny fingers around it. It made him more enamored towards her, and by instinct pecked her bare forehead. Those young eyes of hers which haven’t left his view shined even more from the bright night sky, emphasizing the ocean blues. Luke took a second to look away to glimpse that surreal lighting from the vast night space, finding numerous constellations aligning for everyone to watch.

“Wow, the night sky is just gorgeous, my dear. Come take a look.”

He shifted a bit to his right so his daughter’s view may lean towards the sky than his face momentarily. It worked, and she couldn’t look away up until her eyes were gradually closing. Back to sleep she was. Luke continued to rock her back and forth, humming a familiar tune to soothe her more.

“….I guess I was running from something, I was running back to you….”

“Mr. Luke Hemmings?” A young female voice disrupts his serenading, holding a clipboard with a pen. She was one of the nurses from a while ago based on her scrubs that still have some stains.

“That’s me. Yes?”

“Do you have a name for the little bean you’ve got bundled over there?” She perked up excitedly. Probably a fan from the past trying to hold in her emotions and still act professional. Luke wasn’t too transparent to not notice, but he could care less.

“Yes, I do.” Before he says his answer, he took another admirable look at that same night sky, eyeing on every constellation brightly shining and loving every one of them. It was like fate said that the birth of his daughters is a celebration for the night sky, so they must put on a great show. Having one of his twin daughters in his arms without any anxiety was a stellar scene, one he wishes that would last forever.

“Stella Charlotte Hemmings.” He proclaims with delight with a story as to why that was the chosen combination. “Stella because I know she’ll be shining like a star one day, and Charlotte from the band name of one of my great friends aka. shining legends, Good Charlotte.”

“That is a beautiful backstory.” She swooned as her right hand writes away the details. “You’ve always been very creative with your works, Mr. Hemmings.”

“Wow, witty of you. – And I prefer Luke, by the way.” He chuckled softly, trying not to wake little Stella up because he didn’t want to deal any crying before both of you arrived back home.

“Luke!” You’ve called out, envious of how much time he’s spending with your other child because you wouldn’t want her to think that favoritism is a thing as early as birth. Besides, as her mother, you craved physical contact with her. Luke ended his small talk with the nurse and came to your aid, sitting at the chair by your bedside with a little bundle sleeping serenely in his arms. It was worth a photo, but just moving another limb is tiring enough.

“What did you and that young nurse talk about?”

“Oh, she asked for our little bundle’s name and shared how she was a huge fan back in the day. Autographed her phone before she left.” He responds casually, his eyes kept reverting back to little Stella.

“I’m guessing that’s little Stella.” He nods, standing back up to trade her with the other twin, sleeping away too so she can spend time with you. Now with Rebecca in his arms, he was just as smitten and pecked her forehead too because he couldn’t resist.

“Aww, Rebecca has your nose.” He pointed out, cooing and poking her nose like you did earlier.

“That’s what I thought as well.” You giggled, your finger latched on the miniature hand of Stella.

This moment was too perfect, and nothing can beat it. Now, your wedding has been overthrown as the best milestones in your lives. Despite the pain, it was all worth it.

“Thank you for them, love. I’m sorry I contributed in the pain though.” Luke shyly apologizes, earning a feeble chuckle.

“Don’t be. After all, nothing in life comes easy.”

2034, Sydney

Last night’s dinner, kudos to Luke, was pretty exceptional. He was never the one to cook up a meal because back in the day, he almost burned down your old house! At this point, he suggested to hire a butler to serve you when your jobs get too hectic, when you had no more downtime or when you weren’t home when he was. This lead to hiring Mark, which became much less of a burden and a huge help when your pregnancy limited your actions at home.

Starting out as a mom was quite a struggle in the beginning, most especially when you were handling two children. There were time Luke was out working late, and you still had to email back some producers and other important people for your side projects during your maternity leave. When it was about to end, Eleanor actually came across the idea of hiring a nanny when she visited you with young Alex. It was because it would be much less distracting and inconvenient rather than bringing the girls to work. Foreshadowing, this nanny turned out to be Felicia, who was in her mid-twenties then. She was also an excellent chef, a definite plus!

Being at the Café Sweetener is something you want to back out because it felt like a mistake, but you knew it wasn’t. You agreed to it because it’s about time to let out some transparency. Even though you’re the victim, your mercy on him remained dominant.

Now seated across him in the café, there was killer silence because you both equally feared of saying the wrong things and set the wrong mood. Well, he brought this on you, but still. As much as possible, this must be handled mutually and figure out where both of you stand in this relationship. Or whether there will still be one after. Paps caught the both of you entering the café individually, assuming that it was a romantic date of sorts. But the pictures they’ve been trying to take, all they got were frowns and weren’t pleased, so they passed on the opportunity.

Both of you were situated on a private area of the café so no one inside could eavesdrop on your agenda, shyly ordering drinks and pastries before discussing everything. Once you received them, here’s where business is done and over with. He must have places to be, and you have a family back at Luke’s waiting for you to spend time with. So where exactly now do you stand?

“I thought you were over her.” You spilled out as you stirred your hot tea and looked at him straight in the eyes. Though his eyes couldn’t even look straight to you due to the shame. He hid his held back emotions for too long and afraid for what you have to say, and he should be. “But you aren’t, are you?”

He felt the pain in your tone. You’ve gone through so much, and here you are facing heartbreak again. Inevitably, he came to his senses, dropping the façade he attempted to hold strongly. “I thought I was.”

“How so?” That truth hurt like a bitch, and you were trying to show in your face how deep it stung. You needed more reasons just to understand more. Although you wanted to just walk out and leave it be, you were much better than that. Ready to face this head on and no longer that naïve girl who’d run away from her problems, you followed up. “I would like to know more.”

“What?” He was surprised, almost expecting that you would slap him in the public for all the roaring paparazzi outside desiring a new talk of the town, then storm out because he knew your dealing mechanism is too space away from everything. Besides, he deserved it.

“Timmy, I’m done walking out and being fearful. Please tell me everything.” You’ve reconnected with your guidance counselor persona for him like in the past. Quite rusty, but you were all ears.

“Honestly,” He started off, his elbows on the table to get a little closer but there was still a respect of boundaries. “I was bummed as fuck when you declined to attend the afterparty, but I knew you had your reasons with your family which I fully respect. It’s just that, it was something we planned beforehand, and without you, my experience would empty. I felt threatened by Luke too, why do you think I was harsh on him?”

“What’s there to be threatened at? Luke and I are merely and only work as the parents of Rebecca and Stella, nothing more and less.”

“Not by the way he looked at you in every picture and interview you did. Fuck, I saw both of you guys being touchy in the theater!” He counteracts, almost slamming her utensils on the table and startling you.

“Wow, can you blame that the film was a masterpiece?! Personal comfort serves a better job than tissues, and again, I’ve told you numerously he and I are trying to regain a strong family foundation so trust is needed for that?” You also weren’t having it as he tried to pin the fault on you for his actions, being the victim now.

“Fuck, now you’re defending him? I saw the way you grazed his fingers and laid your head on his shoulder, (Y/N). Being touchy is beyond the limits of personal, especially with an ex!”

“Pretty hypocritical of you now huh, Timmy?” You shouted right at his face. This was just overwhelming, and with the way you were battling, neither can win. With a minute to regain energy, you continued on with slight bitterness. “What happened after being bummed out?”

Timmy exhaled, dreading to tell but he wouldn’t feel fair. “Unexpectedly as I was about to ride the car set for the both of us, I accidentally bumped into Maika on the way. One glance of her, and somehow I felt an a unavoidable string pulling me closer to her so I invited her to the party just as a friend because we just wanted to regain that strong friendship. We sat somewhere private, ate a lot and drank a bit. Not even 2 drinks in, we just revealed everything out; all those pushed back emotions. I cried, and she did too. Drank a few more shots before she said I love you.”

“What did you say? And don’t bullshit it.” You just knew what he was going to say as he finally got the courage to look at you in the eye, but you wanted to hear it for more closure.

“That I loved her too.”

Do not cry, (Y/N). Do not dare. “Did you m-mean it? – And don’t lie either.”

“Fuck, I did, (Y/N).”

Without you realizing, your mind was stimulating your eyes to release tears from heartbreak. You just could never be lucky with romance. To conclude his confession, “It only took one glance to change everything and made me rethink that although it didn’t work out the first time, time away gives you maturity and emotional growth, also time for self-love. Things happened so fast when we were working on Hot Summer Nights and ended the same way. That one simple and accidental glance of her and I felt everything again. Only this time, they were mostly sparks of my affection for her, no matter how hard I tried to deny it.”

As painful as you felt, these life realizations he was stating really shows how much he’s learned and that he’s dealing it better than you. His pain and guilt were easily sensed by the way his eyes drooped so low that he couldn’t look you straight in the eye as he indirectly pleaded you to respond to this words. As much as this felt like a strong slap on the face, letting him go on with life where such a huge mistake like this will haunt him forever is worse than not saying anything in return, which leaves a mystery. To hold grudges is tempting, but it is also wrong.

“He cheated, (Y/N). A big red flag.”

“He said that he no longer loved her, yet he betrayed the trust.”

You were too consumed with your thoughts, not so sure how to approach it properly. As selfish as you want to be because cheating is wrong on all levels, another thought came through, but with a different intention. Something you never figured would be reasonable and still ethical.

"A soulmate is not who makes you happiest, but who makes you feel the most."

“She’s like your soulmate, huh?” By the way his voice was quivering yet stated it confidently, it was quite obvious that he was telling the truth. Yes, his actions were wrong because you were still together, but the heart wants what it wants. You are his friend first even if the trust has been tainted, though the road of closure here is maturity and acceptance. Yes as well, you were pained, but you cannot let him be pained too. You weren’t like that.

“Then go after her, Timmy.”

“Wait, what?” Timmy was already prepared for a raging outburst from you, so your recent words were uncalled for.

“Go after her, Timothee. Don’t make me say it again.” You said with dismay, concealing all the heartbreak by building more walls up your ego. “You might lose her forever if you don’t do and say anything.”

He was still in disbelief, wondering if you were messing with his mind and doing some sort of reverse psychology on him so he would stay. “(Y/N), ple-”

“Holding this against you is so tempting, Timothee. I questioned my worth because of it. Although it’s been only a few days since we’ve seen each other, I’ve come to accept that grudges are unhealthy for me. I’ve experienced all sorts of unhappiness these past years, and now I will no longer stand for it.” You tilted his chin up with your index finger so you would get a better view, caging all those pre-destined tears and praying for calmness of nerves. Timmy sucked up and captured in the view of you, heavily breathing for the tension. “If only one person between us should get their happy ending, it should be you.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N). Are you that oblivious?” Timmy grew capable to talk again, letting his instincts do the talking.

“Oblivious to what?” You peaked an interest with his question. He blinked twice, gathering his thoughts so that what he was bound to say wouldn’t come out wrong. He already messed up the first time, so he’s pressured that he shouldn’t make more faults.

“(Y/N), Luke is still so obviously and madly in love with you.”

A cat got your tongue and doesn’t intend on giving it back. Were you hoping it was true? You weren’t sure, but one thing was, and it was that he’d stop talking about it. “You have no proof, Timothee. Now please don’t make this harder for the both of us.” You rejected his allegation, praying that the attention doesn’t get to you. But you jinxed it, because Timmy didn’t stop from there.

“He looked so happy when you were taking photos in the red carpet, and those looks he gave at you? Fuck, those were the same lovingly looks he gave when you were still married. I’m not that stupid, you know.” He was very specific with his observations, and it created dead air between the both of you. Though his stare at you was raising in intensity, he was positive that he will get you to admit the actual truth because he was confident enough that you were hiding it.

But were you really hiding anything to begin with? Have your feelings towards Luke really dead? Was it really all strictly parental? Sure, he comforted you in stressful times, but was it only friendly? With this, it leads to the main question is: do you still love him? You were stressfully contemplating on all these resurfaced questions, dreading how much effort will be drained from your brain.

“I’m sure he isn’t in love with me anymore, Timothee. In fact, he’s getting married soon, and I’ve already let him go years ago because I’m just too toxic for him, and vice versa.”

Timothee was still unfazed, disagreeing with your actions. “(Y/N), you’re letting him go because you love him and want him to be happy, even Sierra is awful. How can you not see that? Also, why are you allowing him to get off with that woman?” Timmy was testing your boundaries, almost turning the situation 360 degrees, wherein you were now in question and not him. Because he’s admitted his actual feelings, he really wanted you to keep in touch with yours.

“Look, I don’t want to interfere with Luke’s personal life, Timmy. That isn’t something I would even do! One thing is for sure and it is that he deserves happiness, even if I’m no longer in the equation.”

“But I believe that you’re his true happiness, (Y/N). Sierra could never match up to you.” He insists, making your thoughts and emotions grow wild. You thought you could’ve hidden them so much more, but your mind and heart are malfunctioning due to all those recent late night signs and contemplations that are getting you to realize that they aren’t a coincidence.

Bringing Stella to Camp Wonder? There was hesitation on your behalf, but your mother asserted you to push through with it so it can teach Stella new things and make her more independent. She would’ve never met Rebecca if you let her stay with you. With Rebecca, she was living with her father.

Going to the VMAs? It was a comeback after all those years, and it made people happy. Not having done it would never let you unexpectedly encounter Luke and catch you off guard before your daughters formally did. That was a sign of awe, getting your heart racing already, but you had to shut it down first.

Looking through old things in the “Luke” box while wearing his musky sweater without hesitation after he brought you home from Delilah’s? If you didn’t do it, you would have never reminisced those happy days and open up to Luke because back then, he did make you the happiest girl alive.

Inviting him to your film premiere? It was the first time in a decade that you and he were spotted together. If you didn’t invite him, you would be a nervous wreck stuttering in every question in the interviews and an emotional one too if he didn’t sit beside you and exchanged minimal touches to calm your system.

Meeting that cab driver? He made you rethink everything and really evaluate your life with him. If he didn’t interfere, you wouldn’t have connected with your heart before you slept with your mascara-tainted face, wherein your laziness caved in.

Quite frankly, there happens to be a link with these instances, but there was one more that confirmed everything you’ve tried to deny: last night before dinner. You’ve kept a close eye on every bodily and facial feature of him and knowing its emotional equivalence when you and he talked about your days. In fact, you had racing thoughts that kept directing to the unholy side numerously and didn’t put too much effort in redirecting them back to the platonic zone. You chose to think that way because you couldn’t help yourself. Shamelessly enough, it was like you were still wrapped around his finger and never really let go. Only loosened.

And so whether or not you still love him, he was getting married already to a woman whom you’ve despised. In risking that he knows that you both hate each other, you kept your mouth shut. If this was another chance at happiness, let him be. There may be something in Sierra that he actually accepts and appreciates that you couldn’t see through, so he needs to take it.

“God, you need to rethink this through, (Y/N). All the signs are there, laid out in front of you.”

“But I already ha-”

“You’re letting a great man to marry an evil woman. It wouldn’t just be him at fault, but your daughters as well.” Timmy said monotonously as he took that last gulp of his coffee, closing his eyes as a mechanism to further enjoy its bittersweet taste because all he’s received are bitter vibes. He treasured that small percentage of the sweet, alarmed that from here on until God knows when, he would live with that mistake of betraying you.

“I need space from you, Timmy.” You’ve looked intently at him as the pressure in your system boiled up, wanting to process everything once more solo. He was correct without a doubt with what you’re doing, but he still fucked up more than you.

“I understand, (Y/N).” He got up from his seat and left the napkin from his lap on the table. Taking slow steps away, he stopped by your shoulder and put a hand on it. “I may have messed up, and I’m fucking sorry that I did what I did. But remember that you deserve happiness. I can’t force you to love him again, but at least you must do the right thing. – Goodbye for now, (Y/N).”

“Goodbye, Timmy.” He kissed the top of your head as he slowly distances away from you. You could’ve already turned into a crying mess because that has been so common these past days with everything that’s resurfacing and occurring, but no. Not this time.

“Do the right thing, (Y/N).”

And damn right, you will.

“Good night, girls.” Luke waves at the two, who’ve reached the top of the stairs already.

“Night, dad. Night, mom.” They said in sync before going inside Rebecca’s room, which was quite a mess since Stella hasn’t properly organized her belongings meant for her luggage. She had shirts on Beck’s bed, some sneakers under it, and even her dress from the premiere was crumpled on the mini rolling chair by Beck’s study desk.

As much as she didn’t want to pack yet, she had to, or else you would leave her behind. Although it was a good idea since she knew how to travel alone, it would be fair to you. Either way, the situation of leaving (or staying) was a lose-lose situation. She already risked so much just days ago for and with her father, and she couldn’t allow herself to get in a rough state ever again with you, who was just as broken as he is. What a heart-warming thing that she really has all this love her despite that consented lack of paternal influence for a decade, even if she had no idea about the breakup. With or without knowing, she kept an eye on you always just like you. Like mother, like daughter.

Rebecca laid back on her headboard, lowly viewing the slowness and feeling the emotional heaviness of her twin sister’s movement to load her luggage. She was just as disheartened that Stella was leaving when everything is about to get better with the family, and it worries that she didn’t have a clue when she’d see her again personally. Sure, video calls exist, but with the wide time difference? It’s too much of a sacrifice for one of them to be awake late night, while it’s day time for the other since school was about to start for them individually. They respect each other so much that they wouldn’t want to disrupt their rest and health. Regardless, she is thankful. Thankful they had time to achieve a huge chunk of their initial plan.

Throughout it, they matured so flawlessly from the different experiences that profoundly influenced their mindsets since now, it will be very important because they are almost reaching their teenage years. Also, the wise words they have received from the new people they’ve met and those whom they knew their entire lives. The main learning experience they took home for them to really cherish in the long term was that though you dream so big it hurts because you really want it to come true, you should still take things slowly because hard work and growing isn’t overnight.

A proper application of that would be their parents’ past romance.

To recap, their main mission was to set you two up again in hopes you’ll fall in love again, get married and receive the dream happy ending of having a complete family. But in time, they processed the logic that forcing that kind of commitment and rushing it all in the limited time they were given only would worsen things and crumble down. Luke indirectly revealed from the Sierra incident that he and you broke things off because there was a lack of trust and based on previous calculations from the day you met up to the day you married, it was all happening so fast. It was almost like back then, the honeymoon stage lasted for too long that when it was over, neither of you could handle the pressure.

With that in their knowledge, no same mistakes should be done twice. Surely, it gutted them harshly to accept this, but in order for this to work, it’s about time to take things slowly. Learn and relearn from each other and not to expect too. No longer was the endgame for the both of you to fall back into love, but to grow and strengthen the family for all the missed time.

“Earth to Becks. Becks to Earth.” Rebecca was removed from her thinking realm when she overheard her twin calling out her name numerously. How long has she been in her trance?

“Shit, sorry. What were you saying, Stella?” She trained her mind to focus on her twin, no more dozing off like usually what she does in her math classes.

“Well, I was saying that everything was too fast and too soon. Shucks, now the family is mending back to pieces, I’m leaving you and dad again.” She wept, the separation anxiety already kicking in her system. As much as she loved you, she disliked that your job is interfering with all these family plans, all before it was time to go home and get back to school. Times will get busier, and the future is unpredictable. What if cutting ties again will occur?

It’s a good thing she isn’t alone on this fear. “I’m on the same page too, Stella. It’s too soon yeah. But hey, at least we had some memories for keeps, right?” Rebecca attempts to remain optimistic, anxious for the unknown. Then out of the blue, her phone vibrated against her pocket, which is a signal that she got a message. As she yanked it out, it was none other than Darcy Styles. She couldn’t hold back her smile and quiet giggling when she slid on the notification, unlocking her phone.

[10:36 PM] Darcy Styles: Hey love! How was your day?

Ever since Darcy and Becks switched numbers at the movie premiere, they’ve been talking non-stop about anything, like food, TV shows, animals, the possibilities are endless! Phone calls were rare because they live on opposite sides, and there hasn’t been any down time, so texting was easily accessible.

[10:37 PM] Becks Hemmings: Pretty fun! Went around Sydney with the fam! How about you?

Yet only recently, they’ve grown even closer when Becks let herself vulnerable to her through messages when she was on the way home from the beach house post-Sierra, when the deadliest silence was driving her nuts mentally. If you think that the Sierra issue was only between your and the bands’ families, you thought wrong. Issues like that can really affect how you think, and at her young age, she needed more support. And seeking that from Darcy even she wasn’t physically there to comfort her was really helpful.

Darcy is different from all her old and new friends, like she really understood the struggles and open in giving proper advice. Becks is not one to let her guard down easily, but with Darcy, she felt secured. It’s too soon to say, but with their continuous conversation, Becks finds herself questioning more, and it hasn’t been the first time.

“Ooh who texted?” Stella cooed, zipping up her final luggage with a hint of trouble because there were too much items tightened inside. Back and forth with the zipper so it wouldn’t break, she got to close it eventually and jumped to the bed, where her twin still hasn’t answered her question. Even though she knew who it was, she wanted to hear it for herself.

“Jane, from camp. Remember her?” Becks lied, keeping her phone out from Stella’s lingering eyes. But Stella was quicker than her to glimpse at their recent messages, squealing, “Yeah right!! Totally not one of my best friends, that’s for sure.”

Rebecca got flustered, not used to having anyone to talk to about these growing feelings that she has never experienced. Freaked out was an understatement too because these kinds of feelings towards someone who is the same sex as her was still not okay in society, and she didn’t want anyone to change their view on her. Most especially her family.

“Hey, you okay? You look zonked.” Stella snapped her fingers at her, halting her racing thoughts.

“Oh y-yeah. Feeling perfect.” Another lie leaves Rebecca, only this time, Stella knew she wasn’t being honest, and that breaks an aspect of their sisterly pact. This cannot be.

“Hey.” Stella starts off, obviously seeing her sister’s fright. She felt nervous too. “You know you can tell me anything? We are family after all.”

Rebecca was ashamed to have said those lies as she recalled of their pact, but they were her shield. Though the world has progressed so much these past decades, sadly there was still a slight stigma, and she heavily reflected on that. She’s seen clips online and on the television about kids like her who were disowned and even murdered because of how they identify themselves. Also, she felt as if she was invalid because she couldn’t just choose one to fully like without others having to say that “there’s no middle ground! just choose one.”

“Rebecca? - Look, I’m not pressuring you to share me what you’re feeling, okay?”

She was called again by Stella, who stated a disclaimer, although she really wanted to understand what her twin was feeling. Rebecca trusted Stella enough to know that she has no prejudice in her heart, but she was still hesitant. Regardless, she needs to be an honest girl. She took a deep breath, praying to the heavens for the best. “You do remember Jane, right?”

“Oh yes, Jane. She “accidentally” spilled orange juice on me that one time when we were still enemies in camp during lunch time.” Stella gestured, reminiscing such an embarrassing moment. “I’m sorry, but she was kind of a little shit.”

Rebecca chuckled. “None taken.”

“What about her though?” Stella continued on, wanting to know the main point of Rebecca bringing her up.

This is where Rebecca had her nerves all over the place, trying to calm them down so she could speak more sanely and properly. She managed to get this far, so might as well open up more so she could more truthful to Stella, and most importantly, herself. It was a good first step, and Stella was all ears.

“Well, one late night in my cabin with her and Hannah way before you and I met, we were playing truth and dare. I chose truth, and Hannah asked if I’ve ever kissed a boy.”

“And then?”

“I said yes, with some boy in my Math class way before camp. His name was Noah, and he was pretty cute. Anyways, not the point. When I was done, Hannah asked Jane the same question, where Jane said dare. This is where things for me got more mind-blowing.”

“What happened, Becks? You’re scaring me.” Stella says with unease.

Rebecca prepared herself for the worse, and admitted, “Hannah dared her to kiss me. And when we did, she cringed and ran away because she was embarrassed. It’s like I’m supposed to feel the same as her and shake off the cringe, but I didn’t. I actually enjoyed it.”

Stella struggled to comprehend at first, asking “So wait, you liked the kiss from Jane in the same way you kissed Noah?”

Rebecca nodded, her voice growing shaky as she added, “To be honest with you, this hasn’t been the first time I’ve liked boys and girls in the same way. - I used to have a big crush on Nick when we were in preschool because he always gave me flowers, and Alex teased me about it a lot. It died when he began giving flowers to someone else, no hard feelings alongside. Although when I was around 7, I became attracted to Scarlett, who was around 9. She is a great singer, and really pretty, having brown curly hair with green eyes that caught me off guard. She was my first girl crush, until she called me a “little sister from another mister.” Indirectly, I was friendzoned, but I’m glad that it made me realize more things about myself.”

“Which was? Summarize everything, poppet.” Stella was still puzzled, but not as much as earlier. Rebecca was right, noticing that she had no judgmental faces to give and open to listen to her. She felt safe.

“I’ve accepted that I like boys and girls in the same romantic way. – Stella, I’m bi.” She came out, yet hid herself under a blanket like before with you, when she revealed her real self. This moment coincidentally mirrored that. This was a huge step for Rebecca in accepting a part of her identity, and she’s relieved to have done it. Still, she braced herself with her twin has to say about it. “Say something please.”

Stella was pretty stunned at first because she would’ve never figured Rebecca felt this way. However, it was not the first time to experience and meet someone who was not straight; an example already is Gina. This has already opened her mind about the various kinds of diversities in our world and increased her interest in learning these new things. She could never see herself as someone with ignorance because those types of things cannot be chosen, they just come along. And the best way to go is to accept, learn more and love equally. “Uncover yourself first, Becks.”

Stubborn at first, Rebecca came to her senses and followed the older twin, removing the thick white duvet from her face. She sat upright, her eyes were still viewing downwards to her sweaty palms. Stella sees right through her emotions, and clasps her hands on the sides of Rebecca’s hands, trapping them. Rebecca was surprised, making her look upwards to her sister, with a sensible grin. “What made you so afraid to tell me, poppet?”

She didn’t expect such an inviting tone, fearing that it could be a façade in order to make her feel better. But she had a gut feeling that Stella wouldn’t lie like she minimally did, it would worsen their sisterly pact.

“I was scared that you would look at me differently, like I’ve seen films and videos of people who came out and aren’t accepted. I just got you and mom back, and I didn’t want to lose you again.” Rebecca shed a single tear, successfully trying her best to refrain from producing another. Stella caught it, wiping it away from her face.

“You will never lose me and mom, alright? Don’t even think of that!” She reassured. Rebecca was thankful to be accepted for who she is really is, wherein no more hiding secrets between her twin. Though, there is still you and Luke to tell.

“Does dad know?” Stella added. Rebecca shook her head left and right, her thoughts redirecting now to him. Will he still love her in the same, fatherly way?

“Ooh, I see. But no rush, okay? - There is no need to feel ashamed, Rebecca. It’s part of who you are! We live in a time where topics like this aren’t as taboo as they used to be way back based on what school taught me, so you must embrace that, and if others don’t like it, then screw ‘em! Easier said than done, but this is a start. So thank you for trusting me, I fully accept and love you and nothing will ever change that.” Stella elaborated positively, then willingly offers a hug to Rebecca, who takes it. This made her heart grow 10 times bigger because she was understood properly.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Rebecca mumbled under her breath, but loud enough for Stella to hear. As they part from their intimate gesture with warm hearts, Stella brought up a previous question back. “So, who actually texted you a while ago?”

“Darcy.” Rebecca comfortably answered. “We’ve been talking since the premiere, though it’s all friendly.”

“Yeah right! Do you think I don’t see your eyes and smile beam up when she texts? You’re into her, 100 percent!”

“Am not! I may like girls, but I can still be friends with them! And hey, do you think I don’t see how much you gush around Alex recently?” Rebecca retaliated proudly, finally getting to ask that especially after she’s sneakily watched them from afar at the campfire. “You know, I saw you guys get cozy back at the beach house, specifically at the camp fire.”

“That was nothing really. We were just getting to know each other more since most of you guys left to either pee or get sodas when we weren’t up for them!” Stella defended herself with the truth. Or so she thought it was as of now. Girls can be just friends with guys, anyways.

“O-kay, whatever you say, bub.” Rebecca surrendered her arguing even though she had more receipts towards her sister and best friends getting very close. Majority of people would be disgusted if they found that their sibling is dating their best friend, but not with Stella. She’s already thinking in advance, and she’s pretty cool with it if something happens. But if any of them mess up or fool around, then damn prepare yourself.

“Let’s not think too ahead of ourselves okay? Let’s just focus on now please. – Okay, wait. I just realized something.” Stella adds on.

“What is it?”

Cue maturity development.

“Pretty tough to say, but I’m happy that there’s no more bad blood between mom and dad. Like although it’s a bonus, it doesn’t matter to me anymore if they don’t fall in love again like we wanted, but just to have this time together was much better.”

“I actually agree. We should never force them to do that because falling in love again isn’t easy, and since mom is with uncle Timmy, we should respect that. As long as the family is reunited happily and I get to see you and mom more, then I’m happy too.” They hugged once more to seal their sisterly love, before Rebecca brings up a less serious topic and gets a hold of her laptop from her study desk before lying back down.

“So, remember we asked how mom and dad met? It was through one of dad’s music videos, Valentine?”

“Yup, what about it?”

“Wanna take a look at it then? It’s just in Youtube anyways.”

“Omg yes, type away!” Stella cheered, watching her sister type the words and clicking on the first video that came up, with Luke and you on the thumbnail. As they listen to the song and view the video attentively, they adored at how little you’ve facially and physically aged.

“Wow, they look amazing.”

“Woah, mom’s kissing everyone here.”

Those were some of the many comments they gave, jamming along to the familiar song they’ve overheard playing when they were still apart. How music is truly strong in connecting people. Afterwards, Stella suggested Netflix on Rebecca’s widescreen television, which was fulfilled because the latter wanted to watch as well. As they scrolled through numerous categories of films, they settled on old family movies, ranging mostly from Disney. Nothing has yet caught their eye since they’ve watched numerous times, until they landed on unfamiliar film, of which once they’ve read a synopsis, they were hooked.

“Hmm, the Parent Trap. Looks promising.” Stella plays the mini trailer of the film, intrigued.

“When two girls who seem to be polar opposites meet at summer camp, they think they have nothing in common -- only to discover they're identical twins.” Rebecca reread, crinkling her eyes in realization. “Could relate to us, huh?”

“Probably? But we won’t find out ‘til we play the movie? Come on now!” Stella infers, impatient for her sister to press the play button.

“Jeez, chill! Pressing play.”

“(Y/N), wait!” Luke chases after you after you ran away in shock. You were in disbelief, lacking oxygen in your lungs at the bomb Luke has just dropped. Nothing could stop your pace as you dangerously leaped the slippery steps. Blasting open the door of the guest room, you loudly locked it shut before jumping on the bed with your raging emotions. Screaming against your pillow, a waterfall of tears were released. Only this time, it was the peak of your pain. You hiccuped more than usual and screamed until your throat became dry.

Not so long later, soft knocks crept in when you removed the pillow on top of your head. “(Y/N), please let’s talk.”

“Leave me alone.” You shouted back, too hurt to face him and full of anger in your heart.

“Please open the door. I’m begging you.” Luke knelt against the door, pleading to explain.

“Just go away, Luke.”

129 notes · View notes

jamblams · 6 years

Text

Sewing a Tiny Moth, Mothman, or Butterfly: Jamblams Presents: The MOTHABY!

Want to learn how to make one of these cute fellows for yourself in only ten steps? Well, you came to the right place!

Since this little moth is so tiny, this tutorial will only be covering hand-sewing the Mothaby. I have linked several videos to help anyone who might struggle with these techniques and my message box is always open if you need help!

However, I do ask that you not sell anything you make using this pattern, as it is my very first design and I want to hold onto it (for now).

Now, black is a difficult color to do a tutorial with because it tends to be hard to photograph, but my pal @berserker910 really liked this yellow fleece I had, so let’s do an Io Moth for this tutorial instead!

What you will need:

-needle

-pins (at least 7)

-thread (preferably in a color that matches your fabric)

-felt (for the arms, antenna, and wings)

-minky or fleece (for the body – I recommend minky or plush fabric because it hides stitches better and also looks like a fuzzy moth body. However, if you are a beginner it might be more important for you to keep track of your stitches using fleece - it’s just a tad less fuzzy.)

-two tiny buttons (the ones I’ve used here are a tad over half a centimeter in diameter)

-stuffing or beanie-baby filling (I use bean filling)

-scissors

-fabric glue (optional, I recommend Fabri-Tac Glue)

Step 1. Print or trace the pattern and cut it out.

The Mothaby body pattern’s dimensions are 2 inches across and just shy of 3.5 inches tall. The Mothaby wing pattern’s dimensions are 6.25 inches across and roughly 3 inches tall (from the top arch of the wing to the bottom of the secondary wings). You can always scale it up if you want to, but I prefer the tiny size.

Laying a piece of paper over your computer screen will enable you to use it like a lightbox if you don’t have printing capabilities. Make sure you have it full-screened if you trace it!

Step 2. Cut out all of the fabric pieces for the Mothaby.

You can do this by pinning the paper patterns you made in Step 1 to the fabric you intend to cut out.

When using plush fabric or minky, I always shake my pieces out over a trashcan after I cut them out to get rid of the fuzzies that come off the edges when you cut those types of fabric. When you’re done, you should have this:

-2 body pieces (fleece or plush fabric/minky)

-1 wing piece (felt)

-6 limbs (felt)

-2 antenna (felt)

I have not made patterns for the limbs or antenna because I usually guess at them. I like for my limbs to be roughly a 1/4th of an inch wide and 2 inches long. Cut out a tiny triangle at the end to give them little bug hands. My antenna are usually 1.5 inches long and double the width of the limbs (but still 1/4th of an inch wide at the base).

Step 3. Pin and assemble the body.

Lay one body piece “right side” up (meaning the part you want to be showing when you finish the plushie is facing up).

Lay two of your limb pieces onto the bottom of the plushie. Do this with your antenna pieces as well, but place them at the top of the head.

Next, place your other body piece on top of this, right side down. You will be sandwiching the felt bits between the two sides of the fabric that you want to be showing when you finish. Pin this in place, making sure you’re pinning the felt pieces as well- you don’t want them to move.

Use a backstitch to sew from the bottom all the way around to where the second side begins. Be careful that you’re only sewing the bottom of the felt pieces into the seam- you don’t want to accidentally attach your Mothaby’s leg to its side!

It is very important that you use small stitches because of the tiny size of this plushie. If your stitches are too big, you could easily pull the little legs or antenna out, or your bean filling could fall out. I’ve used black thread here to make my stitches easier for you to see, but I would recommend using white or yellow thread for this color of fabric.

Step 4. Turn the body right side out.

Using the opening you left in the body’s side, turn the body right side out. You should have your little legs and antenna safely attached.

Step 5. Sew on button eyes.

I usually do this by making a knot in the side of the head and bringing my thread into the head that way, so to hide the thread, but you can do it in any way that you’re comfortable with.

You can draw any loose strings back inside the plushie to hide them like this (just make sure they’re long enough that they will stay inside!):

Step 6. Stuff or fill the Mothaby.

If you use beanie baby filling like I usually do, simply pour enough beans inside the side opening to fill the Mothaby up to where its neck starts. This is so it will still be a bit floppy and a tad more poseable. You can also choose to fill the Mothaby with stuffing/polyester fiber fill, but I think the beans help give the plush enough weight to sit upright with minimal finagling.

Step 7. Close the body’s side.

Using a ladder stitch, close the opening in the side of the Mothaby. If you filled the body using beanie baby filling, be extra sure that you’ve closed that gap or you’ll spill little plastic beans everywhere.

Step 8. Attach the arms to the body.

The technique I chose to use is called thread jointing and it will give the arms a tad more poseability. You can choose to sew the arms directly to the body instead if you prefer.

Create a knot just below the start of the head.

After laying two of the remaining felt limbs over one another, sew through them both and return the needle through the body, specifically the neck area.

Then, taking two other arms that you have laid over each other, sew through them as well, going back and forth through the four arms and the neck areas about three or four times. Make another knot to finish, drawing the thread back into the body to hide it.

Step 9. Attach the wings.

After pining the wing piece in place and making a knot in the back of the body where it will be hidden by the wings, use a backstitch to attach the back of the body to the wings. Make another knot to finish. I used clear thread because I really didn’t want these stitches to show on the back, but I just sewed a straight line up.

You can easily make your own unique Mothaby wings inspired by any type of moth (or butterfly) by finding a good picture of the moth’s spread wings on Google, holding up your Mothaby’s body to your computer for sizing (zooming in and out as necessary), and using your computer screen as a light box to trace a new wing pattern onto paper. You can even cut out patterns in felt and glue them onto the wings (like I did with this particular moth). It is important to use glue because you don’t want your stitches to show through the other side of the wing.

Step 10. Love your new friend!

You now have your own little Mothaby to love and enjoy! Feel free to tag me in any Mothabys you make using #jamblamsmothaby – I would love to see your creations!

Here’s a side-by-side of the Mothman Mothaby and the Io Mothaby, for comparison!

Happy sewing!

#mothman #mothman plushie #moth plushie #cryptid #moth #sewing tutorial #free sewing pattern #sewing pattern #sewing #jamblamsmothaby

45 notes · View notes

freaoscanlin · 6 years

Text

Who I Was Has Disappeared

Rated PG, 3000 words. Part of the Safekeeping verse. Picks up at the end of Unsung Melody (Mine for Safekeeping) only this time we’re in Daisy’s point of view. Daisy and Jemma decide to tell the team their decision, and soldier through their first (disastrous) night with Tony.

By this point in her life, Daisy figured she should have been used to, if not big changes, at least rolling with the punches. After all, her life had been a series of heel-face turns, one right after another. Any time she had been close to settling with a family and finding her place as a child, she’d been uprooted. Joining SHIELD had been a shock and a 180 degree turn from living in a van. SHIELD had fallen to Hydra. Her crush had fallen harder into sucking as a human being. SHIELD had rebuilt itself, and she’d gone into the chrysalis. For a beautiful, glorious time she’d had a father and a mother until that had blown up in her face. Her best friend had gone missing, until she hadn’t, and her boyfriend at the time had sent himself into space. Her life of nomadic superheroism had ended abruptly when her father-figure-slash-boss arrived out of nowhere at a fireworks factory to call her home. And then home had been laid under siege, reality had become far too digital for comfort, and before she even found her feet and enjoyed some pie, she’d been in the freaking future.

And yet the baby in her best friend’s arms, sleeping with his face tucked under one arm, that seemed like the biggest change of all.

It certainly felt like the biggest sock to the stomach, at least.

She was not ready to be a mother. A day ago, she hadn’t even been—or 90 years from now she hadn’t been? The future was a strange and complicated thing to wrap her brain around. Every thought about motherhood that she’d entertained had been uncharitable and always would be. As a teenager, she’d feared motherhood, terrified to wind up in the cycle of a foster kid creating another generation to wind up in the system. She hadn’t wanted that for herself, for the hypothetical baby, for anybody, so the best thing to do was simply ensure she would never have children.

And now she had one. With her best friend.

Daisy chanced a peek at Jemma’s face while the other woman was distracted, no doubt lost in her own thoughts as she held the baby.

In truth, Daisy had braced herself for this day, the one where she would sit beside her friend and watch her smile at a baby. Just like so many other days she’d silently and mentally prepared for. She’d already resolved to smile through a series of them: Fitz and Jemma’s engagement announcement, their wedding, their first child. She’d set aside that little bit of strength, knowing she would need it.

And now things were happening completely out of order—and wrong.

She shook her head to clear those dangerous thoughts. Maybe her mind had drifted because suppressed pining was way thorny than unexpected parenthood.

God, what even was her life?

“He’ll need stuff,” she said.

“Hmm?” Jemma lifted her head.

“Stuff. Baby things, beyond the formula and the clothes we bought.”

“I think what he needs above all is a bath, but you’re talking more long-term, I suppose.” Jemma bit her bottom lip as she gave the matter some thought. “We can’t keep him at the base.”

“With the way that this place gets attacked by everybody and everything? Yeah, no.” Daisy shook her head. “I also don’t think the back of my van is a good option for him.”

“Absolutely not.”

“What about your place?” Daisy asked.

“I have no idea what’s happened to that apartment, between the framework, and however long we were in the future. If it’s been over a year, I imagine the lease has lapsed and my credit score is frightfully low.”

Daisy had checked during her trip with May to fetch supplies for the team and for Tony. She cleared her throat. “I’m afraid that might be the case. It’s been eighteen months.”

Jemma drew a quick breath, her fingers flexing a little on her free hand. She sat back, her eyes closed. Since Daisy had reacted with prolonged and vociferous swearing herself, she was impressed by the restraint.

“But don’t worry about your credit score,” she said. “I can fix it.”

“I appreciate that,” Jemma said.

“There’s always a hotel,” Daisy said, shrugging.

“Hotels are never as clean as you think they are.”

“We’ll buy, like, Clorox wipes.” When Jemma opened her mouth to protest, Daisy gave her a sarcastic head-tilt. “A clean-able hotel room or staying in a base where we’re pretty much guaranteed to be attacked in the middle of the night, Simmons. It’s not exactly a ‘six of one, half a dozen of the other’ situation here.”

“You have a point,” Jemma said, apparently tired enough not to protest ‘clean-able’ as a phrase. “We’ll need to inform the others.”

“I mean, everybody already suspected half of it,” Daisy said. Mack, Elena, and Coulson had spent the Quinjet ride from Lake Ontario to the base sneaking looks from the baby to her. May probably had, too, but since she was May, Daisy hadn’t caught her. “It was just the other half of the equation they were missing, in this case.”

“And so much more than that. We’ll have to tell them that we’ve essentially committed to raising a child together.”

That familiar, painful-and-yet-hopeful feeling hit Daisy in the chest once again. Committed to raising a child together. That was—that went way beyond simple friendship. That entered murky territory Daisy had meticulously been skirting for well over two years, ever since it had become obvious that Jemma was beginning to return Fitz’s pining looks. She cleared her throat. “Given that my chosen way of wearing my issues is on my sleeve for the entire world to see, I don’t think anybody will be entirely shocked by this decision, either,” she said. “Again, you’re the unexpected piece.”

For all of us, Daisy thought.

“Coulson already knows,” Jemma said. “He was with me when the results came in. So we’ll just need to tell the others. And Fitz.”

“You know, you don’t have to tell him,” Daisy said, as Jemma’s voice had gone flat. “Coulson would keep it to himself, if we asked. I could do this myself, if it would make things difficult with Fitz for you to have—you know, him.” She nodded at Tony.

Jemma shifted protectively, pulling Tony closer to her in a move that spoke volumes. “I won’t let you do this alone.”

Unexpected guilt prickled uncomfortably at the back of Daisy’s neck for having even offered in the first place. Of course Jemma would grow attached as quickly as she had. “Okay. I just—it’s a lot, you know, I just wanted you to be absolutely sure. With how things are with Fitz…”

“I’m sure.” Warily, Jemma rose off of the barstool, holding still until it was obvious that Tony wouldn’t wake. Daisy followed her to the couch, which smelled faintly of dust. Jemma cuddled the infant closer to her. Her sigh could be over the state of the base, Daisy knew, or it could be more. “You’re correct that introducing a child to my relationship with Fitz will complicate things, but they weren’t exactly simple to begin with. We haven’t had a chance to properly discuss the Framework or Aida.”

“It’s been a busy few weeks,” Daisy said. She was sure she’d made bigger understatements before, but none came to mind right away.

“He needs some time to himself. He’s so convinced that our relationship is cursed, did you know that?”

Daisy grimaced. She didn’t want to argue, as that would mean lying, but telling the truth would also break a fundamental rule she’d set up, one that involved resolutely sticking to the positives of her friends’ relationship, so as not to arouse suspicion. “It hasn’t exactly been brimming with good luck, but then, that’s kind of our lives these days.”

“I know. Gosh, he’s just so apple-cheeked,” Jemma said, and it took Daisy a full second to realize she was talking about Tony and not Fitz. “Look at his little cheeks, he’s so cute.”

“As hot as we both are, it makes sense that our lab-grown baby would be the cutest one ever,” Daisy said, grinning when she was rewarded with a genuine smile from Jemma. “But we’re gonna have to be careful. Your brains, my general awesomeness, and both of our looks? This kid is going to rule the world if we’re not careful. We should teach him to be a benevolent leader.”

“Mm, it would be the responsible thing, I suppose.”

“Well, that’s us. Responsible parents.” Daisy realized she was playing with her beanie, and pulled it back on her head. “Do you think that’s what we’ll be? Because I feel like I might be a disaster.”

“I think,” and Jemma had her head tilted, her eyes focused on something in the distance the way she always did when giving a matter serious consideration, “that there’s a learning curve for everyone. And as I said earlier, you’re one of the smartest people I know, Daisy. You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

Warmth flooded through Daisy from her chest to her toes.

“Though, returning to our earlier subject, we’ll definitely need to inform the team. It will mean changes for them as well.”

Daisy chewed on her lower lip. “Given how many times we’ve saved their lives lately, we’ll probably never run out of free babysitting offers, at least.”

* * *

The team took it better than predicted. Elena had already guessed, it turned out, and had shared her suspicions with Mack, who simply wished them an exhausted “good luck” as he held baby Tony between his palms with a look that broke Daisy’s heart. He would need time to himself to grieve over the facsimile of Hope. Time. Something they’d had ironically very little of, despite officially being time travelers. But he smiled as he passed the baby on to May. She cradled Tony, rocking him gently, and raised an eyebrow at Daisy in particular, eyes flitting to Jemma.

She knew, Daisy realized. But then, she figured she hadn’t had secrets from May in forever, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

Coulson, when his turn came, groused about the name. “You realize Stark was already a pain in my ass and if he finds out two of my agents named a baby Tony, we’ll never hear the end of it?”

“Don’t say ass in front of the baby,” Jemma said.

Coulson reluctantly handed Tony back, though he did so with a warning that they would be inundated with Iron Man baby clothes and baby armor if Stark ever found out.

Fitz was the reaction Daisy watched (and pretended not to). To her surprise, he took the baby when Jemma held him out. There wasn’t any awkwardness or fumbling about from him, though he stared hard at Tony’s face. Everybody in the room pretended nonchalance, though Daisy imagined they were all straining to pick up every nuance, just like her.

“He’s got your nose,” he told Jemma. To Daisy, he said, “Congratulations. You two make a very cute baby.”

“Thank you,” Daisy said.

Fitz and Jemma shared a quiet look that broke Daisy’s heart a little. Not envy, she realized, but genuine sorrow for both of them and the troubles they faced.

She tried to keep her tone light as she stepped forward and collected Tony from Fitz. “Simmons and I were thinking that it would probably be a little more sanitary to go find a hotel. Just until we can figure out logistics with—you know, him. And while we figure out what’s happened since we’ve been gone.”

* * *

The lure of soft beds and sheets they wouldn’t have to wash first seemed to appeal to everybody else, too. She remembered those days on the run from Hydra the first time, that little roadside motel where the sheets had smelled funky and she’d crawled into bed with Jemma to avoid sharing with May. They picked a much nicer venue this time, with everybody getting their own rooms, all paid for by one of Coulson’s cards. The minute she got her hands on a secure computer, Daisy thought, she had so much work to do, checking their alibis, seeing how many warrants they had outstanding.

Though she half-expected Jemma to follow Fitz to his room, she stayed with Daisy and Tony. They had only the clothes on their backs and things they found in the gift shop, sweatpants with the hotel name and oversized sweatshirts, toiletries and the like. Daisy was sure they’d drawn some looks, but she was too tired to care. So tired. Bone-deep, intense exhaustion radiated through her entire body.

Jemma set the gift shop bag down on the other bed and began to pick through it. “We should probably bathe him before either of us showers. I don’t know how much hot water this place has, but I intend to use up a great deal of it.”

“So shower before you, got it,” Daisy said, earning a tired smile from Jemma.

Tony Johnson-Simmons’ first bath, they agreed later, was something of a disaster. For one, there was a surprisingly vehement argument as to location, the bathtub losing to the sink even though said sink wasn’t quite big enough for the baby to fit comfortably. For as natural as feeding him had felt, bathing Tony was an entirely different story, especially for the two of them attempting to work together. Daisy imagined that truly good parents had soft music, the very best shampoo and soap, and calm, happy babies for a peaceful, harmonious bath time.

They, on the other hand, were a scientist and a field agent belonging to a fallen clandestine government agency, who’d been unceremoniously handed guardianship of a test tube baby. Not much harmony to be found there, but a lot of muttering of “hold still—not him, Daisy, you. You hold still” and Tony crying when they accidentally splashed shampoo in his eyes.

“So the ‘no tears’ claim appears to be a blatant lie,” Daisy said while Jemma gave her a peevish look and Tony screamed directly in her ear. “Wow. Okay. So I don’t think we have to worry about his lungs at all. Wow.”

Jemma, who had a glob of baby shampoo on her chin, sighed at the both of them.

But the trauma finally ended and Tony, freshly diapered—another adventure for both of them, and only not a disaster because Daisy’s time in the future had honed her already lightning fast reflexes—had been swaddled in the softest towel they could find, nestled in Jemma’s arms.

“Let’s never speak of this to anybody on the team,” Jemma said.

“Agreed.” Daisy grabbed her bag and hurried off to take a shower. It should have been a glorious escape, the first real hot shower she’d had in months, a chance to soak her battered muscles and take stock of all the injuries. But she found herself hurrying through it, scrubbing quickly. What if something happened to Tony while she was in the shower?

Realistically, she knew that he had Jemma, that he would be completely fine. But she still hurried, nonetheless. When she emerged, toweling her hair dry, she found him asleep in the little bassinet the hotel had provided. Jemma lay face down on the bed with her arm dangling over the side so that her hand was inches away from Tony.

She wheezed softly in her sleep.

Daisy stood in the bathroom doorway and regarded the two of them, quickly dropping her gaze to avoid being caught staring when Jemma stirred. “My turn?” Jemma asked, her voice rusty.

“I left a little hot water for you.”

“My hero.” Eyes not quite all the way open, Jemma gave Tony one last lingering look and slipped past Daisy into the bathroom. In the doorway, she paused. “You’ll keep an eye on him?”

“Well, I was thinking about going down to the lobby for a smoke and—obviously I’m kidding.” Daisy grinned at the indignant scoff. “Yes, Simmons. I’ve got him. Go on. Shower in peace.”

She climbed into bed and dimmed the lamp so that Jemma wouldn’t have to make her way to bed in pitch blackness. After weeks on a pallet in the inhuman quarters, the hotel bed felt almost too soft. Like sinking into a cloud. She rolled over in the dark, staring at Jemma’s empty bed and the bassinet she’d placed between them.

Tony was a tether, she knew, one like she’d never been allowed to have until Coulson had found her and dragged her onto that bus. And the bonds she’d formed then had been by choice, in blood, sweat, and tears, and could break so heartbreakingly easily. But Tony was a tether of a different kind, a small, helpless person depending on her. Just like he needed Jemma.

Just like he tied the two of them together. Whatever their feelings, they were now in this, side-by-side.

And it was only going to get harder from here, Daisy knew, to keep her feelings to herself. She rolled back over and stared at the ceiling, wishing sleep would come and give her a break. But no, she was still awake when she heard the shower shut off, and the sounds of Jemma brushing her teeth and going through her nightly regimen. The door opened and Jemma tiptoed to bed with an almost inaudible “Good night, Daisy.”

“Good night,” Daisy whispered back, finally feeling her eyelids begin to droop. She felt sleep tug her away at last, a sweet release from the sheer suckitude of the longest day ever. Happy to escape into dreamland, she closed her eyes fully.

Which was precisely when Tony began to wail.

It was, she saw as Jemma groaned and turned on the lamp, already reaching down to pick the baby up, going to be a long night.

17 notes · View notes

thedolansaintshit · 7 years

Text

In Bloom - E.D

This is an Ethan imagine/one shot based off a song from my all time favorite band, Neck Deep. I honestly feel like all I do is imagines based off of songs lmao yolo.

Summary: Ethan has doubted your relationship/himself due to his mental state, because of his issues he has broken up with you.

Warnings: idk depression I guess? This is based off irl events 4 me recently so if its hella emo thats why lmao

For My E, come back to me soon.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ethan’s POV:

Sometimes, at night I let it get to me

It’4:48 in the morning and I keep replaying that phone conversation in my head that happened just a few weeks ago.

Me: “Y/N, I am so grateful you’re in my life. Everyday with you is such a blessing a-and I-I love you very much.”

Y/N: “And I love you more Ethan-so what’s going on in that head of yours? It’s two am, I know you’re feeling down.”

Me: “I’ve been thinking about my life and that includes this relationship, I-I-I just don’t know what I want.”

Y/N: Ethan, baby, you’re getting inside your head right now ple-”

Me: “No, please just understand this is for us, for you.”

Y/N: “What are you talking about Ethan?”

Why do I do these things? I push people away, I pushed her away. No Ethan, you were bad for her. She deserves so much better than you, she deserves the whole universe. You could only give her a star. You weren't good enough for her, she was wrong thinking you were. It’s what’s best, I’m worthless to this world anyways.

Your POV:

We’re never going to put the pieces back together if you won't let me get better

“You’re getting inside your head babe, you’ve been doing this all too much again. Have you seen your therapist?”

I asked trying to hide the trembles that were just attacking my body. This was the one of many phone calls filled with panic from Ethan since we started dating; even before that. I knew what this call was about, I just couldn’t bring myself to come to terms with it just yet. Sometimes when Ethan’s depression would just overtake his soul, he’d leave me in the dark with no explanation or warning. My mom calls this, “a level of emotional abuse” but I just call it “lost.”

Ethan: “You have the biggest heart, you are so full of love I can’t even begin to explain--you’re so sweet and so kind.”

Me: “You’re these things too E.”

Ethan: “Whenever I’m with you, I’m on cloud fucking nine. You’re my escape, always. I realized now that, that isn’t healthy Y/N. I need to be my escape, my hero. You shouldn’t carry this burden of mine on your shoulders.”

Me: “But E, we’ve been through hell and back. I’ve been here through everything, as for you with me. What makes you think I’d turn my back on you now?”

Ethan: “You don’t understand. I’m just not better; I haven’t been. Please don’t get me wrong. I love what we have. It’s so natural, and you’re so beautiful. But my mind-its just not.”

But that’s where he’s wrong. I hate when he just shuts himself down like this, like he's nothing. When we first met, he told me about all the beautiful places he wanted to visit, and I was staring at him thinking “God, I’m already there.” That night we stayed up until sunrise, and I swear the stars looked so gorgeous God must have taken the glimmer in your eyes and blew it across the sky.

And when he first touched my hand, I felt it in my heart how god forsakenly awful it was going to be when I had to let it go. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d find beauty in such calloused, beat up things. But they’re strong and have held the universe. He swears he doesn’t like the way they look, but if the world was in my favor; I’d hold them until it ended.

But by far, the most incredible piece of artwork is the painting that goes on in his head. It’s filled with all sorts of different hues, but it holds the most breath-taking stories; and I’ve never been so lucky to know such gentle and exquisite brushstrokes.

Ethan: “We talk all the time about how ‘that’s gonna be us one day’ when we see an old couple holding hands in the grocery store or when we see little kids wearing vans and beanies how that’s gonna be our little punk. I want that, and I want you Y/N, I see my future with you I just-I can’t give those things to you unless I’m better.”

I felt my whole world come crumbling down. I couldn’t swallow, I could barely breathe. This was so selfish of me to start crying and begging him to stay. How was I suppose to go on without him, for what could be a long time. What if he moves on when he's better and I’m still so fucking in love with him it hurts to breathe. My whole life feels like its on hold because he decided to have a mental escapade right before our sixth month...god I’m so fucking selfish.

Ethan’s POV:

“I’m sorry” I whispered trying to hold back the tears I knew were coming.

I could hear her crying on the other end. I broke her heart, I broke her fucking heart. The one girl who has always been there for me, always put me first even in her time of crisis. I was such a shit boyfriend to her it’s unreal. I was always late to dates on accident. She had to ask to buy her flowers...what guy doesn’t think to buy her flowers? Or caption on her Instagram pics? She always planned dates and hangouts too, but she always did what I wanted to do or adjusted for my taste. These are just for starters. I fucking love the girl, she’s my girl. My fucking world. I just don’t know how to relationship I guess. But fuck, when it comes down to it, I’d be bad at relationshipping if I got to smell her smell for the rest of my life or see her laugh at my turtle face.

And then I heard a click.

“FUCK.” I yelled slamming my phone down to the ground watching it shatter, just like her heart.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.” I started throwing everything off the desks and my bed, the picture of her and I on the ground. Everything is broken because of me. Why was I born? Why is my brain like this? So full of sadness and pain? I hurt the ones around me too much.

Your POV:

Cause the truth is, you’re the only voice I wanna hear in my head

I hung up the phone so impulsively. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move, all I could do was cry. I wanted him, I needed him. I was about to get in my car and drive to where he was.

I blame him for thinking he knew what was best for me when he is what’s best for me. He gave me his fucking heart after having it torn apart and shredded so many times, and that was always good enough for me. I shouldn’t of busted his balls so much about stupid fucking flowers. I pushed him too much. But when it comes down to it, if I had to choose between a boy with stupid red roses in his hands and an emo boy who loves to film me, with calloused hands and only two dimes to rub together...I’d choose my E. A thousand times over, I’d choose my E.

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #dolan imagine #dolan twins #dolantuesday #i love you

127 notes · View notes

therevolutionwriter · 7 years

Text

Dominoes

Hey everyone! This is just another little story I wrote, based on the same prompt as the last. Any feedback or opinion on which is better would be adored!

It started off corny. It was something silly, like something out of a cheap rom-com. If you’d seen her that day, and had previously known my sister, you’d have to agree that from the back they looked like twins that day. Dirty blonde hair, round shoulders, faded black jeans. Of course, there were subtle differences, although I wouldn’t notice them until much later. Her version of dirty blonde was just a bit filthier, her sleeves ending a stitch higher on her shoulders, and my sister always wore Levi’s, while she wore Hype.

If you’ve ever had a younger sibling, you know the type of thought that went through my mind. Us older siblings have a reputation for being indifferent and on the border of mean. What we never tell you is that it’s all in good fun, and that secretly the younger sibling enjoys it to a degree (even if sometimes they don’t realize that they do.).

We hadn’t seen each other in roughly two weeks, if my memory hasn’t decayed as badly as some say it has. The opportunity to pull a jumpscare like something out of those old horror games was irresistible. So I snuck up on my tiptoes, looking like something out of the saturday cartoons. My hands pushed on her shoulders and I yelled in my most obnoxious child-like voice: “BOO!”

She jumped in shock (looking almost as if someone had literally taken a wire and shocked her), and turned to face me. My cheeks almost immediately began to hurt from the smiling, from the roaring laughter being emitted from my lips. My stomach followed suit, until I got a better look at her. My stomach switched gears and began to do flips, and my cheeks began to burn.

This girl was a total stranger.

She considered me with a look I can only describe as being somewhere between curious and confused, with an undeniable hint of what-the-heck-are-you-doing added in. To my surprise, she then grinned, eyebrows still furrowed, and let out a cautious laugh, her nose crinkling the whole time.

“What was that?” She asked, one eyebrow raised with interest (That eyebrow raising would later be something she’d try to teach me. I’d fail, of course.)

I stumbled over my tongue, searching desperately for words. What should one say after something like this? Should I laugh too? Walk away? After realizing that my silence was making the conversation more awkward than it already was, I managed to think of a sentence.

“You looked like my sister. Sorry.”

It’s strange what can start something big. How a chance encounter (especially cheap rom-comesque ones) can trigger long chains of events. Our fate was one of dominoes, and that day the first one fell.

As far as we knew, we had nothing in common, nothing but this one experience; this one strange, silly, childish experience. Of course, it didn’t take much more than that. We got lunch together, sandwiches from a corner store (I only remember that from the spilling of vinegar on my sandwich onto what was, at the time, my favorite hoodie). In some ways, it was a bit less like a cheesy romance novel than it had started out as. We weren’t obsessed with each other at first sight. That first lunch was void of flirtatious chatter, no subtle touches, no lingering eye contact. All we knew was that we were both in college, both came from families with high expectations, and both enjoyed sandwiches (I also found out that she doesn’t enjoy vinegar, although she’d always finish my sandwiches for me anyways.) We were friends, and that’s all. We made a habit of going out to lunch, and for a long time, that’s what our relationship consisted of.

It wasn’t until after about a year that…”something” happened. We got our sandwiches and sat down, as was the custom by then. I then went to the bathroom. I was only about a minute, and when I came back she was already halfway done with her sub. She urged me to hurry up and eat. I nodded and took what my five year old would now call a “big boy bite”. I didn’t notice at first. There was the crunch of the lettuce, zing of the vinegar, fleshy turkey taste. But there was something else. Something creamy, although definitely not my usual mustard. Smooth, but gross, something like lotion.

And that’s exactly what it was. She saw my face turn and screeched with laughter, turning heads in the store as she giddily sputtered out:

“T-THAT’S...THAT’S LOTION!”

I gagged at the words and began to spit the stuff out. I found myself laughing along with her, despite being genuinely disappointed that such a good sandwich had been wasted. And so began a more rapid falling of the dominoes. It was our little game, our inside joke. The things we did varied. One day, I gave her a sip of “water” (white vinegar). Another, she gave me a water bottle full of rum (and peroxide). And of course, to make time for the game we began to hang out at more than just lunch. Weekends, days off, anything that fit into our schedules. Some of my friends called her my girlfriend, whereas we didn’t call each other anything. Still, people perceived sparks between us, especially when she moved in with me.

I don’t remember whose idea it was to move in together, or if we even discussed it at all. All I have are vague recollections of her just being there one day, and me being okay with it. And of course, like a stereotypical dare-gone-wrong movie, our game intensified. She left a spider on my face while I was sleeping, I left baby powder in her favorite beanie. She hid my homework, I stole her makeup. And so on, of course. It was always fun, and while inevitably it went too far at times, we always made amends.

It was the night before April Fool’s Day. As you can imagine, at this time of year it was critical to get in the most hilarious and absurd pranks. I was sure I had her beat at dinnertime, after all, who could handle ghost pepper sauce? Meals were always a cherished time for trickery, and giving her a burger with some of the hottest sauce known to man seemed as good a prank as any. That was, of course, until I bit into my own burger, and after a moment felt as though I’d been French kissing a dragon. She’d been a step ahead, and had switched our burgers.

I went to bed that night with a sore tongue and even sorer attitude. The next day, I knew my reputation in this game was dependent upon my next move. I stayed up that night, staring at the ceiling and trying to block out the sound of the city outside. I listened for snoring, soft snores that she denied making but that I knew she did anyways. And by the time I heard them, my plan had been formulated.

It seemed simple, but far from innocent. I knew that she always left first in the morning, much earlier than I did (5:00, to be exact). The hallway outside of our apartment was hard and smooth, already just a bit slippery. I stayed up until 4:45, and then snuck out, restraining myself from giggling at my genius. I poured the vegetable oil just outside the door, and then set up my phone’s camera, ready for it to capture the moment she would slip and slide just as she set her foot out the door. My trap set, I went to my bed and pretended to sleep.

She awoke at 5:00. She took her shower, she got dressed, just like any other morning. She attempted to wake me in vain, also just like any other morning. I smiled to myself as I heard her gentle footsteps padding towards the door. As expected, there was a loud bump. What was not expected was the two voices screaming. Hers I knew, but the other voice had age to it, a sort of depth that she lacked. I rushed and ran up to the door, one part curious and two parts terrified. There, in the doorway, was her, her hand over her mouth like that dramatic scene from every tragic movie I’ve watched since. On the outside was an older woman, a mother as I’d soon find out. And at their feet, a near black pool of scarlet oozing out of his head, was a little boy. A very still little boy.

The rest, as they say, is history. I have a record now. When I got out, she was not there to greet me. At the court I can still feel the sting of that mother’s slap, the bark of her words. It almost stung as much as the rum I’d taken to afterwards. And of course, I’ve moved on with my life. Found someone, started a family. Even managed to get a job (ironically, at a corner store). But that’s not to say it’s behind me. It never will be, of course. Previously, I hadn’t believed in fate, but how else could such a strange chance encounter have led to that? That one mistake, that silly trick, it tempted fate’s hand to begin the tipping. And when that last domino fell, so did I.

#dominoes #short story #realistic fiction #writer #i wanna write #write life #writing #prose #tragedy #love #innocence #fate

1 note · View note

movietvtechgeeks · 7 years

Photo

Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/supernatural-big-win-comic-con-2017/

A 'Supernatural' Big Win at Comic Con 2017!

For the past decade, there’s been one show that has inspired me to brave the insanity that is San Diego Comic Con again and again. That show is Supernatural. In 2007, it was the prospect of seeing Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki in person that made me throw caution (and possibly good judgment) to the wind and fly all the way across the country with almost no notice just to hopefully sit at the feet of the two actors who brought to life the characters that had entirely captured my heart. My friend Kathy and I slept on the sidewalk to get in early and raced through the hallways to the room where the Supernatural panel was, breathless but triumphant. This was long before SPN had proven itself able to fill the gigantic Hall H, so they were relegated to the much smaller Room 6CDE. Little did Comic Con know, Supernatural was already a fan favorite, with the line of SPN fans wrapped around and around the building and many disappointed fans unable to get into the room. Jared wasn’t able to come that year, but Kathy and I made it in and sat there beaming at Jensen Ackles and Eric Kripke sitting right in front of us. I managed to snag an autograph ticket through all sorts of machinations, and thus had my first actual conversation with Mr. Ackles, after which I found Kathy and immediately burst into tears. Fangirl problems, what can I say? I’ve been back to Comic Con almost every year since, in the audience for the Supernatural panel as others began to notice the show’s passionate fan base and move the panels into ever larger rooms, until finally, we were in Hall H itself. If you’ve never experienced Hall H, it’s something to behold. The first time I walked in, my jaw dropped – the sheer size of it is overwhelming. I felt a swell of pride the first time Supernatural was deemed worthy of Hall H, and that feeling has never gone away. This year was no exception. The lead up to Hall H is an event in itself. Thousands of fans camp out overnight (or possibly multiple nights) to get a good place in line. Back in the day, fans were on their own – we sat on the sidewalk that first year, wrapped in blankets and grateful when someone came by with some coffee and donuts. Then fans camped on the grassy areas on the side of the convention center, a few with sleeping bags. Now everyone knows that for Hall H, if you want to be sure you’ll get in and get a decent seat, you camp out. Comic Con has moved the line, first to the walkways along the marina, and then to the line tents constructed for just that purpose. My more intrepid friends slept relatively comfortably in inflatable beds that looked like giant orange kayaks or lounged in deck chairs. Many fans had pop up tents. On Saturday night, it was like a giant Supernatural slumber party, and fans woke up to Misha Collins bringing them donuts in the morning. A few years ago, I spent Saturday night with Misha and Osric Chau delivering pizza to the Supernatural fans waiting in the Hall H line, Misha merrily pedaling along in a pedicab festooned with multicolored lights and fans’ jaws dropping when they saw who was thoughtful enough to bring them dinner. But that’s how unique this SPNFamily is – the fans care, the cast cares. And Misha, frankly, is awesome. This year, the Supernatural panel was the first of the day in Hall H, and anticipation was running extra high. Many of us had heard that they had something “special” planned, but no one knew exactly what it was. There was a keyboard and drums on the stage, so fans were guessing that we might be treated to a Louden Swain performance – I’d chatted with Richard Speight Jr. and Rob Benedict on Friday night, so I knew they were there to probably host the panel, but maybe the rest of the band was too? There were other theories, but no one knew for sure. Anticipation was running so high, in fact, that they let everyone into Hall H extra early, the gigantic hall filling up as fans flooded in and grabbed seats. I caught up with lots of fellow fans, with hugs and excited exclamations all around, then finally it was time for the panel to start. WB publicist Holly took the stage and again told us we were in for a treat, and then the lights went down, and the show began. And OMG what a show it was! Hall H is surrounded by 3 gigantic screens that travel the length of the entire hall, which means they are MASSIVE. As we all watched in awe, Sam and Dean appeared in Baby, of course, traveling – where else? – to Comic Con. Seeing and hearing Baby roar around Hall H with her boys was absolutely awe inspiring, the Impala’s familiar rumble shaking the entire hall and thrilling us to the core. Then we heard the familiar chords of Supernatural’s unofficial theme song, Carry On Wayward Son, booming into the hall. Suddenly the lights went up and there on the stage was the band who made that song famous, Kansas! OMG, I have no words. The screaming was deafening, and then everyone – the tens of thousands of people packed into Hall H – started singing along. Kansas belted it out like the rockstars they are, and the emotion in the room was probably enough to fuel a small city for a very long time. I’m getting emotional again just thinking about it. Jared, Jensen, and Misha snuck out into Hall H and stood in the back watching along with the rest of us. Jensen later put it best in a tweet: Mind blown. I’ll say. After that unbelievable beginning, Rob and Rich took the stage. It’s an unusual thing to have the Comic Con panel moderators be actors who are actually ON the show, but Supernatural is the very definition of an unusual thing. Anyone who has ever witnessed Richard Speight Jr and Rob Benedict hosting a Supernatural convention knows how ridiculously talented they are and just how quick on their feet. They are not only naturally hilarious, but they KNOW this show inside and out. They know this cast. They’re part of the family. Which all means they are the most fantastic panel moderators anyone could ask for. Showrunners Bob Singer and Andrew Dabb, along with Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles, took the stage next. Jared and Jensen shared their customary fist bump that starts and ends most of their panels, and Jared pulled off his often present beanie to show off that glorious mane of hair that Richard had just joked would qualify for its own spinoff. Jared and Jensen had apparently tried on masks to go out into the crowd to watch Kansas, but couldn’t find any that worked. Richard: Can’t hide the hair and the bowlegs. He’s right. Talk about iconic… Misha Collins was conspicuously absent for a few minutes. That gave the others plenty of time to mock lament Castiel’s untimely demise. Bob Singer: We have to go where the story takes us…and I think the guys will agree that frankly, Misha had become a bit of a prima donna… (Jensen making a face) At that point they were joined by Misha Collins, who ambled onto the stage carrying his own tiny chair. Misha: No one told me to come out, but I heard my name, so… Rob: This is awkward… It was a hysterical bit, and Misha made the most of it, looking unexpectedly adorable in his tiny chair. Andrew Dabb joked that they made way too many good things happen in Season 12, so Season 13 will basically be death and sadness (but then again, what season of Supernatural hasn’t been that??) Conversation turned to Lucifer’s son Jack curled up naked in the corner at the end of Season 12, which led Jared to ask if a character died (cough Cas cough), would he come back naked? Andrew: I’m not sure we could afford the blur effects. Misha: Oh, because it would take up so much of the screen? Richard: Well, we all know that Jared has been very… accurate… on his twitter feed… In other words, the panel devolved into a discussion of penis size. As you do. Misha eventually reminded Jared that last year at Comic Con, Jared grabbed his phone and tweeted for Misha. Misha: Yeah, and apparently I tweeted I hate fans. Which is a great thing to post at Comic Con! They did manage to talk about the coming season too. A major theme of the early episodes is apparently that Dean and Sam disagree on how to deal with Jack, with Dean wanting to take him out and Sam being more optimistic. In other words, Supernatural tackles the nature versus nurture argument. Andrew pointed out that Sam can put himself in Jack’s shoes, as someone who was once believed to be ‘destined’ to do something bad. Andrew: And Jack himself will continue to struggle with that in our version of “Hell’s My 2 Dads”. Which really sounds more like fanfiction than canon, gotta say. The brothers also differ in how they view Mary’s future. Dean is pretty sure it’s curtains for Mom, and is ready to accept that even though he’s bereft. Sam is holding onto the hope that she could still be alive, which causes some problems between the brothers in deciding what they do next. Bob Singer: Spoiler alert, Mom is not dead. Jensen: WHA?? Jared (channeling Sam): I told you! There was lots of discussion about what the AU world beyond the rift could offer as far as Season 13, including the possibility of bringing back other characters, like they did Bobby. Rob: So could that open up the possibility for other characters to reappear in the same way? Bob Singer: You have anybody specific in mind? Rob: Am I coming back?? Bob Singer: Well you are God… Singer then joked that Gabriel wouldn’t be back, much to Richard’s dismay. He then went on to say that they love to tease Richard, but that they think his directing on Supernatural has been just fantastic, and they’re so happy with him. There were lots of cheers at that from the audience, because YES. Richard, in turn, complimented Jared and Jensen on keeping the show fresh and high quality with their performances for all these years. We learned that there will be some characters returning, including Missouri Mosely and of course Jody and Donna. Andrew: And some of the people who are dead in our world are very not dead but very different in the Apocalyptic world. The possibilities are endless! Jared gave a shout out to the fandom, saying that it was a lot harder when they began the show because they didn’t have “this badass family” to support them. Jared, Jensen, and Misha also talked about the eventual end of the show (something that I don’t want to think about, btw…) – Jensen had a very powerful dream about the end of the show and Sam’s death, and the three of them were talking about it recently, and all got choked up. Their characters are so much a part of them that they feel real, and the thought of Jensen as Dean losing Sam is now heartbreaking to Misha. Which is pretty amazing. Bob Singer told a story that he feels crystallizes the relationships they have all developed. One day Jared and Jensen came to him at the eleventh hour and said that they felt that Dean and Sam’s lines on that episode should be switched. When they rehearsed it, they were tripping over the dialogue and realized that it worked better with the parts reversed – and it worked. Bob: And I heard it and said yeah, that’s right. But the idea that they feel comfortable enough to want to make this honest change, and we’re comfortable enough with the actors to know this is not about ego, it’s about making the show better. Those relationships are why I’m still here. Jared: As much as we tease the short guy at the end [i.e., Misha], we all enjoy each other as people. We have a legitimate friendship outside of working together. And we have a lot of trust in each other. Richard: The show is about family, but it has become family. And the other members of the family? The fans. (Which is why the book I just published is called Family Don’t End With Blood, and why both all the actors and many of the fans wrote chapters about how this extraordinary show has changed their lives). One of my favorite answers was when a fan asked about favorite props. Someone in the audience yelled out “Baby!” Jensen (indignant): Baby is not a prop. Baby is a part of me. Awwww. Misha (smirking): My favorite prop is Dean. Jensen (deadpans): And that’s why he’s no longer with us. A fan asked what their biggest fears were, and Misha joked that it was sitting on stage in front of a large group of people while his friends made fun of him (i.e. exactly what was happening). Bob Singer promptly got up and took Misha by the hand and put him over in his chair, and took the tiny one himself, which was all kinds of sweet and prompted Jensen to give Misha a big hug. Richard: Misha, you are so fired for accepting that kind gesture… Jensen shared what he wrote about in his chapter in Family Don’t End With Blood – that 13 years ago, being in front of all these people would have terrified him. Jensen: It’s daunting, to get up in front of all these people and not trip over your words – or just not trip! There was a shout out to the Wayward Sisters spinoff, and then Richard asked if anyone had any parting words. Jared: Yes. Thank y’all. We wouldn’t exist like this if you didn’t exist like that, so this is 50/50 here. Thank you all for giving us a chance to play these characters and tell this story. If that’s not a classy way to end a panel, I don’t know what is. I had the chance to ask a few questions of Jared, Jensen, Misha, Andrew, and Bob later that afternoon in the press room. Both the cast and anyone who had been at the panel were still sort of blown away by the fact that Kansas had played for us, so spirits were high all around. I had done press rooms years ago, but it had been a few years, so I was busy worrying about my brand spanking new tripod being able to hold up my phone without tipping over when suddenly Jensen Ackles appeared at our table. That caused some minor panic and equipment fumbling on my part before I regained my composure, but that’s not exactly a rare occurrence for me and Mr. Ackles. However, I got a nice wink of acknowledgment so maybe he didn’t notice the fumbling. I’m going with that. Jensen started out still talking about Kansas. How adorable is Jensen fanboying over the band? Jensen: They were like, we’ve wanted to do this for years! And I was like, you mean they didn’t somehow con you into this?? You didn’t lose a bet? And then the lead singer said would you like to come up and join us onstage, and I think I had to change my pants. Jensen had a lot to say about the new season. He’s clearly excited about the Scooby Doo episode, joking that at some point Dean may try to put the moves on Daphne. Most of that episode takes place in “Scoobyland, self serving” and I can’t wait! It was interesting to hear Jensen say that he thinks that Dean always perhaps recognized that there was a bit of good in Crowley, so that even though his eventual sacrificeself-serving, it was also on behalf of the Winchesters in the end. God, I’m gonna miss Crowley! It sounds like Dean starts the season feeling overwhelmed, with too much to process, so Dean just wants to fall back on doing what he knows best and blowing something away. Sam jumps in to stop him, and Jensen acknowledged that there’s a bit of a struggle there. My question will surprise absolutely no one – I wanted to know how different it felt with the brothers not exactly being on the same page, since last season they mostly were. Jensen: It does feel different, but it’s certainly not going back to like seasons where they were completely at odds. Me: That’s good! Jensen: It’s more let’s figure out how to handle this situation. Sam wants to deal with it one way; Dean wants to deal with it another. They’re not gonna argue about it; they’re gonna eventually get to the same place, it’s just how they get there is a little different. Have to say, I loved what Jensen had to say about the brothers – and I loved what Jared had to say up next too. Jensen ended his chat with our table by saying that this crazy wild ride on Supernatural is not even a dream come true, because he could have never dreamed this. Me neither, Jensen! I had a few minutes to try to reposition my camera a bit closer so it would pick up less of the room noise and more of just the person talking, and then Jared took a seat at our table. Someone jumped right in and asked a rather deep question about whether or not Sam realizes how much Dean had to be a parent to Sam as well as his brother. Jared: Sam does know. Sam and Dean love each other as much as two human beings can love each other, truly. Me: (silently from directly across the table) OMG my heart! Jared: That also means they’re going to hate each other and piss each other off sometimes. But it’s forgiven, between Sam and Dean. And Sam has been what Dean needed too…. They are there for each other, and Sam realizes it, and Dean realizes it. I don’t think either Sam or Dean doubt that the other loves them. Seriously, my heart. This show, damn it. Jared said there’s a bit of a role reversal this season in that Sam is overwhelmed by the situation with Jack – Sam sees a lot of himself in Jack, someone who was destined to be “bad.” He even wonders sometimes if Dean feels that way about him. (Nawwww, Sammy…) I asked Jared if it felt good to be playing Sam as the optimist this season. Jared: Yes, it does, but I think we both know he’s probably hiding some things in his optimism as well. He’s not really dealing with some things. Me: A little bit of a defense? Jared: I think so. And if there weren’t things to deal with, he’d be a weirdo, because he’s dealt with a lot in 13 years. Me: That’s true! Someone at the table asked about the eventual end of the show (which I didn’t want to think about right then, thankyouverymuch!). Jared got a little choked up imagining the very last time there will be a Supernatural panel at Comic Con, and I got a little choked up right along with him. He also talked about the day Jensen came to set after having that powerful dream about the show ending. I’ve also talked to Jensen about that dream, which had a big impact on him and was full of evocative images about something that clearly will be a very emotional time in his life. Jared: I remember the day he came to set and he kind of seemed shook up, and I thought maybe it’s something with the kids. I left him alone for a second and then finally when we had time to talk about it I was like dude, you all right? And he told me the dream, and he was like shaking it off, it really affected him. It’s gonna be really difficult; I love these guys. I love these characters, and I love this family. Luckily in this Supernatural universe that we’ve created together, it won’t be over. Misha was next at our table and immediately made us all laugh. Someone asked what they’d given him to prep for these interviews. Misha: Jack shit! We usually get this paper, single spaced… (Interrupts himself to say hi to me, since he wasn’t expecting to see me in the press room, which kinda made my day) Misha: … that delineates the DNRs – the do not reveals, not the do not resuscitates – Everyone: cracks up Misha: And then there are bullet points of what we should talk about for the coming season… And for this year for Castiel it’s just ‘well, no one stays dead forever on Supernatural’ and I’m like thanks a lot for throwing me to the wolves! So I’ll just tell you everything that happens in the first eight episodes to spite them. Never change, Misha. He said that the most relevant aspect of Cas’ death is actually how the boys process his death. Sam and Dean go through a grieving process and have to deal with the loss of their friend. When Cas does come back, he’s in a realm that we’ve talked about before on Supernatural but have never seen. The Empty maybe?? Misha: And he’s in there alone with only one other being, played by… a great actor… Me: I totally thought you were about to tell us the name! Misha: (grinning slyly) Sorry. He clearly wasn’t, but that smile is so adorable it didn’t really matter. Misha also talked about how unusual it is to play the same character over the course of a decade in a vastly changing set of circumstances and the gradual evolution of their characters over time too. It’s surprising to him how organic the process is because they know these characters so well that it just happens. In typical Misha fashion, he asked the last question of himself, which was about the very last GISHWHES. He’s very proud of it and encouraged everyone to sign up – which I’m happy to say I already did. This will be my third time, and every time has been amazingly fun and frenzied and utterly ridiculous. Hope you’re all joining me! Executive producer and showrunner Bob Singer joined us next, talked about how this season is about a family dealing with being torn apart. Ouch. He reiterated that Dean just wants to “shoot it in the face” while Sam wants to see if Jack can be of help to them, specifically in maybe opening up the rift again so they can rescue Mary, which causes some head butting between the guys. This season will be smaller in scope, more personal and more emotional, Bob said, which makes me all kinds of excited. He also teased that we’ll see some familiar characters return, but in the AU so they’ll be not exactly the same – which is also very exciting. Singer also talked about the Wayward Sisters spinoff, which still makes me all squeeful whenever it’s confirmed as reality – I think a part of me still doesn’t believe it! The spinoff set up will begin in episode 3 with the introduction of new character Patience, be picked up in 9 and then continue in 10, which will be the pilot episode. Bob has gleaned a better understanding of how we roll over the seasons. Singer: We’re spreading it out a bit because as much as everyone wants to see Jody Mills, when you tune into Supernatural you want to see Sam and Dean, so we hope by spreading it out a bit, we’ll keep everyone happy. He paused and then smiled. Bob: Which hasn’t happened on 12 seasons of Supernatural, so I don’t know why I said that… I had to laugh, not gonna lie. Andrew Dabb was last to visit our table. He talked a lot about the AU, a world which has never had Winchesters, and the potential for some interesting situations as the universes mix, which I have to admit, has me intrigued. He also talked about characters returning, but cautioned against overdoing it. Andrew: You don’t want to be like here’s character X and here’s character Y, but now they’ve got an eye patch, so they’re totally different… More laughter. These guys are all funny, which has got to be part of the reason this show has survived for 13 years! Dabb went on to say that even though Supernatural has a lot of history, they don’t want to just rely on nostalgia, like a character comes back just to be like hey and wave and walk away. Dabb: If we’re bringing someone back, they’re coming back for a reason. Apparently, a character named Michael will be back, but it may not be the Michael we know and love. Which makes me long for Matt Cohen… Everyone at the table was excited to hear that the show has not forgotten about the witch twins, who I think intrigued all of us. They deserve their own story, Dabb said. Yes! Someone asked if there will be any meta episodes this season, and Andrew said they don’t like to do them too often, and they want to be sure to do them in a way that’s respectful to the fans. That was a pretty nice way to end a press room. I ended the day with frozen pina coladas at the Harbor House restaurant overlooking the marina with my friend Laurena, our aching feet up on chairs while we reminisced about the past five crazy days. I always say I’m not going to do Comic Con again – it’s too exhausting, too hectic, whatever – but by the time I’m going through my photos and writing up my adventures, I’m already planning for next year. As long as Supernatural is there, count me in!

Movie TV Tech Geeks News

#Comic Con #Featured #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Supernatural

2 notes · View notes

justalittlebluetiefling · 7 years

Text

Chapter 42: Sometimes I Can’t See Myself

Rating: T Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Bellamy x Clarke Chapter: 42/68 Word Count: 1892 Words

Chapter Summary: The one where Clarke and Octavia move into an apartment.

Also on AO3; Start from the beginning on AO3

Bellamy and Clarke picked up the moving truck first thing in the morning. Even if she hadn’t brought him coffee, he still would have helped her, but she was insistent. He knew better than to get in the way of an insistent Clarke, so he accepted his coffee in peace.

They drove to his mom’s house in companionable silence and he could feel the energy buzzing off of her. It had been a long time since he had seen her so excited. It seemed that her impending “official” escape from under her mother’s roof almost made her into a morning person for the day.

Lincoln’s truck was already in the driveway, but Bellamy allowed himself to be silenced with a look from Clarke. Most of his sister’s boxes were already in the back. Miller, Wells, and Lincoln jumped up from their seats on the porch when Bellamy backed the truck into the driveway. The only things they had left to move were his sister’s bed, nightstands, and dresser.

Aurora cried as they carried the bed out of the house. Octavia hugged her, rubbing her back and trying to remind her that she really needed the space for her sewing equipment. The new apartment wasn’t that far away. Still, she took Bellamy off to the side and made him promise again that he would keep on eye on his sister. Like that wasn’t what he had been doing since O was born.

Their mother only delayed them a little, though. Monty and Jasper were waiting in their car out in front of Clarke’s house and Bellamy didn’t really blame them. He’d only met Abby once before. It would be a lie if he said he wasn’t reluctant to see her again.

There was a lot more to move at Clarke’s. Bellamy was impressed with what she and O found. The two of them had spent the summer searching Craigslist, yard sales, and thrift stores for furniture. Abby had volunteered the garage for storage as an olive branch. It had taken some convincing, but it was a good thing Clarke had accepted. They found almost everything they needed and in the end, the only gift they had been forced to accept from her mom had been a brand-new couch.

Bellamy probably wasn’t as careful as he could have been moving the bigger furniture. The couch Abby had purchased was a sectional and honestly way too big. After he may have pushed the couch forward a little too hard, Clarke reassigned him to help Monty and Jasper. He tried to play it off as a stumble, but Clarke obviously didn’t buy it. Neither did Miller, who took his place, but not before shooting him a look he could only interpret as, Dude, cool down.

The goodbye between Abby and Clarke was much more mellow. It was closer to tense. Abby hugged her tightly, but Clarke went rigid. Bellamy wondered for what felt like the hundredth time since Christmas what was going on there. The memory of her in his front yard, tears streaming down her face, still tore at his heart. Since that night, Clarke would only go to her mom’s house if someone went with her. Most of her packing had been done while Abby was at work or with friends.

After a few seconds, Clarke pushed away from her mother. Abby’s jaw tensed. She blinked back tears as she watched Clarke link arms with Wells and pulled him toward the moving truck. When she noticed Bellamy watching her, she nodded to him. He nodded and turned back to the truck where Wells and Clarke were speaking in hushed tones. They only spoke loud enough for him to hear once (“I get why you’re mad, but you have to let this go eventually.”) before Wells pulled her into a hug.

An impatient shout from Miller interrupted their moment, though, and Wells went running off toward the car. It left Bellamy and Clarke alone in the truck with a twenty-minute drive toward the college and her new apartment. Clarke leaned her head against the window for a long time, staring out at the sun and the clouds. Bellamy waited. He knew she would speak when it was time. At one point, he nudged her in the side with a water bottle and she accepted graciously, but she didn’t speak until they were about five minutes out.

“You need to be nicer to Lincoln.”

“What?” He would have been less surprised, but he had been so distracted thinking about how nice it was to have someone he could be so comfortable with.

“You need to stop whatever protective older brother thing you have going on. Lincoln isn’t going to bend over like Atom did. You’re not going to scare him away.”

Bellamy’s hands tightened on the wheel. “I don’t have to do anything.”

“Do you want to lose her for real this time?” Clarke’s voice was soft, but forceful. “Lincoln’s a good guy, Bellamy. He loves her. A lot. And if you took the time to get to know him, I think you two could actually be friends.”

He gritted his teeth and tried to think of a response. The problem was, she was right, but he didn’t want to think about someone a year older than him being in love with his baby sister. Especially not after they had only been officially dating for three months.

When he finally parked in front of her building, she turned to face him with her arms crossed. Their friends loudly ran to the back of the truck and slid the door open, but Clarke stayed put.

“What do you want me to say, Clarke?”

“That you’ll make an effort to be less of a dick?”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot.”

“You know it’s true.”

A knock on the window startled them both. Wells waved from the other side, his eyes wide. “You guys, I think we need you.”

With a sigh, Clarke and Bellamy hopped out of the truck. A semi-comical, yet highly dangerous scene greeted them. Monty and Jasper were trying to help a flustered Lincoln move their giant couch. Miller kept trying to jump in, but Jasper kept waving him away.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Lincoln said.

“Seriously! We got this!” Jasper adjusted his grip on the arm. On the arm.

Monty was at least trying to hold onto the base of the couch. “Are you sure, Jasper?”

“Yeah, come on! Just lift some more.”

Bellamy and Clarke shared a resigned look before he ran over and pushed them out of the way, hoisting up the bottom of the couch. Lincoln raised an eyebrow at him and Bellamy shrugged awkwardly under the weight. “Let’s go.” He winked at Clarke, who was watching him carefully as they walked by. “Could your mom have picked a bigger couch, Princess? I hope you know you’re hosting movie night for the rest of your life.”

Clarke knew she was lucky. It took less than two hours to get everything moved into the apartment, because she and O had awesome friends. The only one missing was Raven, but she had to pick between going to the ocean or helping them move and the ocean was the obvious choice. Raven had still been texting all day with apologies.

There was one box left in the back of truck. As she walked down the ramp, she found almost all of them gathered on the curb. “What are you guys doing?”

Wells gritted his teeth. Miller pulled his beanie down over his eyes. Harper shook her head and Jasper buried his head in his hands. Monty grimaced, but at least he was brave enough to speak. “Bellamy and Octavia started arguing again as soon as you left.”

She groaned and looked up at the sky. Bellamy had been doing such a good job working with Lincoln and she couldn’t believe he was blowing it. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not ‘Atom’ bad.”

“I doubt it’ll escalate too much,” Harper added.

“You should still probably go stop them,” Wells said.

“Fine, I’ve got it.” She glared at all of them. “Everyone can just hide down here.”

“Thanks!” They all called after her as she trudged up the stairs.

Lincoln hurried over to her when she walked in the door and took the box out of her hands. “I was about to come down for this.”

“It’s not heavy.” Clarke didn’t see anyone else in the apartment. “Where are they?”

He nodded toward the bedrooms and led her into the kitchen so he could set the box down on the counter. “They stopped yelling pretty fast.”

“So I don’t need to referee?”

“I doubt it.” He chuckled and leaned back against the counter. “Everyone else cleared out of here. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather hide with them outside?”

Of course, Octavia chose that moment to yell that she’d make her own damn choices and Bellamy didn’t need to interfere in her relationships anymore. “It’s unofficially my job to make sure they don’t kill each other.”

“How’d you end up with that job?”

Clarke shrugged. “Sometimes Bellamy’s actually willing to listen. It just takes the right approach. When O wouldn’t learn how, it kind of forced me to instead.”

Lincoln smiled. “O’s talked about their dads leaving. I think it would be hard to be in Bellamy’s position. Especially with Aurora asking so much of him. And, Octavia doesn’t help at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Octavia is….” He hesitated and looked around the corner at the still closed bedroom door. “She’s incredibly strong-willed. So is Bellamy. He can see that she’s grown up and doesn’t need him the way he’s used to being needed. Which is probably why he’s started projecting all that onto all of your friends, too. I hope we can be friends eventually, but I can be patient while he figures out I’d never hurt Octavia.”

Clarke grinned at him. He had figured Bellamy out in less than three interactions, which was way faster than she had and she prided herself on being able to read him. Before she could say anything, the bedroom door slammed open. She covered her mouth trying not to laugh at Lincoln’s shock as someone stomped out into the living room.

“Bell, wait!” Octavia shouted.

“O, I’m just going to give you a little space and return the moving truck for you guys. I’ll be back in like a half hour.”

“No, I just wanted to tell you that—”

“Hey. Hey. O, listen. I get it. You don’t need someone else to make your decisions, but I’m always going to want to protect you, okay?”

“Bell—”

“Let me finish. I talked to Clarke, and well… it’s obvious that Lincoln really cares about you. I mean, he’s put up with your shitty brother and shitty friends for an entire day. He helped you move a shit-ton of stuff into your new apartment. He’s even staying to help you guys unpack. Maybe he’s not as bad as I originally thought.”

Octavia squealed and Clarke poked her head out of the kitchen in time to see her throw her arms around his neck. “I knew you’d come around!”

“I wouldn’t say I’m around.” He squeezed Octavia. “But I’m closer to it.”

#bellarke fanfiction #bellarke #modern au #sometimes i can't see myself #my work #erin writes

9 notes · View notes