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purityoflust · 3 years

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The Smile [Jeff The Killer X Victim!Reader] [PART 2]

Jeff the killer X Victim!

WARNING: Yandere. That's it. Yandere.

I finally decided how I would write part 2 to The Smile, which is my first and most popular post on my account so far. Anyone new who has come to read this, check out my other posts as well if you'd like. I'll post more like this. I also have a Quotev account with more fanfictions.

9/12/20, 3/4 days after the top part: God, AFTER SO LONG, I FINALLY DID IT! Took me days! I'm so sorry if this is a bit lazy, it is a tiny bit rushed by the end but how would you guys feel about a detailed part 3? I'll probably go as far as a part 3 or part 4 for the final part.

The vibrations in your brain felt warm and numbing - almost like when you have a horrible migraine and you can finally feel it subsiding with your eyes closed and your fingers gently holding down onto your eyelids as if you're holding your eyes into place to prevent them from bursting out of your skull. Upon waking up you can feel cold air settling into your skin. You haven't been awake 3 minutes and you already know what you're resting on; an extremely uncomfortable metal table. You've only seen them in movies but this was real.

The sound of a singsong voice just slightly echoing through what seemed like a moderately empty room. You groaned softly as you turned your head to your right, very slowly opening your eyes. Your vision blurred in and out, which, you wanted to rub to clear it out but as you went to lift your wrists, you felt pressure around them.

Something was holding your arms down. This catches your attention, blinking multiple times while turning your head back up straight and attempting to sit up. You were hardly successful with that, struggling while grunting under your breath to pull your hands from under what seemed to be a thick rope. As you pulled harder, you sucked in your stomach out of habit before immediately coming to a halt and choking up in pain.

This whole time you were ignoring the voice that was singing eerily nearby, "You and me, always forever~"

The voice was of a male. Scratchy, shaky. Familiar.

Familiar.

You could feel a string of your heart pop out of place as your breath stopped. That's when you knew something was wrong, but it just doesn't add up. You gulp while your eyeballs vigorously glance around to see where the source was coming from, only to see a figure in a corner. It was doubled over and it was sitting down on a simple wooden chair. Doubling over a...table? An average male figure, nothing unique. Although, the clothing style was unusual. At least what was on the clothes. He wore a fluffy white hoodie and what seemed to be black pants and black-and-white converse. The problem wasn't the outfit, no. His hoodie was spotted and had patterns upon patterns of darkened and more fresh-looking blood splatter. He had long black hair down to his shoulders. And luckily, his back was facing you.

You were dumbfounded. How did you get here, why are you restrained, and why is there a blood covered man near you? Is that even blood? Maybe it's paint or a design? Some people do wear clothes that have different kinds of blood splatter designs on them. Hm. Or he's an actual murderer about to gut you like a fish.

You wanted to speak. You wanted to speak so badly but you just couldn't. As you parted your lips, your throat went dry while your gaze stayed locked onto the bloody male that sat before you. The singing made you shiver as you tried so hard to remember where you could have heard or seen him. Why can't you remember?

The male then turned around to look at you. His singing had come to a gentle halt. Your mouth closed as he did so, your throat going completely dry and your whole body feeling like an ice cube. You were greeted with cold blue eyes. They looked hungry and bloodthirsty, yet they held a warm affection as they looked into your traumatized eyes. It was almost comforting until you saw the rest of his face. His skin was snow white and his lips looked dry. That's when more attention is drawn to his lower jaw. He's smiling. Too big for a normal person.

That's when you realize. He has a large smile carved into his cheeks going from ear to ear while his own lips were curled within a smile as well. And that's when it hits you.

And it hits you hard.

The memories of hours prior start brutally crashing into you, flooding back into your numb brain. All of the realization replaced itself with agonizing anxiety, your heart starting to race at speeds that felt impossible. You could pass out, but something inside you kept you awake. Something about him and about this whole situation was making you dizzy. The male slowly stands and turns his body all the way to face you. He seemed deranged, yet, he had a very relaxed stance and body language.

Uncomfortable silence loomed in the air.

He kept staring at you before slowly taking steps forward. You watch him carefully as your head feels like it's spinning, which you could notice your vision blurring a little bit here and there. The silence is suddenly disturbed with the male speaking up again, choking up in giggles. "Oh my sweet Y/N, you're awake~" He cooed, now standing over you. He leaned himself down and reached his hand to your cheek, gently brushing your skin with his surprisingly soft thumb. He leaned his face closer to yours. The smell of booze, blood, & smoke overwhelmed your nostrils. Yet it didn't seem to bother you that much.

His touch almost kind of made you feel...at ease. Your heart slowed itself and your breathing went back to pace. You felt fine, somewhat, but something in your stomach was still sore. The more you stare at him, the more memories come flooding back. The more memories flooding back, the easier you fit the puzzles together.

"M-my...stomach..--" You stutter out painfully.

In response to this, the male turned his head over to your abdomen and gently rested his other hand onto your bandaged stomach, applying very gentle pressure on it as to not hurt you. It was still slightly painful, causing you to groan under your breath.

"Oh, this...I'm sorry, my sweet butterfly. I had to make sure you wouldn't get away, and you didn't! Don't worry, Jack patched you up, so you'll be just fine!"

You remember now. You remember it all. The chase, your friend, the salty kiss before what you thought was your demise.

You naturally wondered as well; who's Jack?

"Wh-.." You weakly force air out of your throat again to speak, "why am I..tied-?"

"Oh, so you wouldn't be able to get away. I knew you would run away, or struggles, so I had to make sure you wouldn't do that!"

He was right. You would run away and struggle to get out of whatever the hell kind of place you're in. Well, knowing what he looks like. He DID stab you, after all. Who knows what this sicko wants.

He lifts his hand from your stomach and turns back to you, gently placing both of his hands at each side of your face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. So sweet and so innocent. I couldn't keep letting the others eat you up like candy. You're mine and only mine. I need to protect you."

"Wh-who- are you?" You weren't really all too scared for some strange reason now. You were pretty calm. Probably from all of the energy this is draining.

"His name is Jeff." A deep and gruff voice cuts in.

The both of you turn your heads to the door of the room where a tall figure in all black stood. He was about 6"4 wearing heavy boots, black jeans, and a black hoodie. His hair was a dark brown though while he wore a mask. The mask was a dark blue with black goo oozing from the eyesockets. He was pretty intimidating even just by standing idly like a character waiting to be loaded in.

"And I'm Jack." He continued, "I'm the one who took care of your wound."

Jack stepped closer, soon standing at the other side of the table. He stood at the left as Jeff stood at the right.

"He wouldn't stop insisting I help."

You just blink, unknowing of what to respond with. He pursed his lips under his dark mask, in his own thought for a moment while staring down at you. You seemed calm enough, and your still pretty fresh injury was gonna hold you back anyway.

"[P]-[Pronoun]'s gonna-!" He attempts to blurt out, only to be stopped by you.

"I won't."

You were untied at your wrists and ankles, allowing yourself to pull your legs up and rest your feet at the top of the table, propping your knees up. It made your stomach feel weird, but it felt kind of nose and felt like it was easing the pain. You wrapped your arms around your knees, looking around the room more. "What is this place?" You ask.

"It's a medical room."

"Huh.." You shrug it off. Your anxiety levels had died down and the more you actually think about it, this isn't the worst thing that's happened. Your life has been pretty fucked up and you have damaged relationships everywhere. Honestly, being around new people and being far away from others sounds not too bad right now. Not like anyone would care anyway.

The next few hours, you're introduced to everyone else at the Mansion. They've been so...unique and honestly, you're surprised some people and beings like them even exist. They were all equally surprised with how little fear you showed.

You actually got along with most of them.

The others have taken a liking to you and hope you hang around longer. Alone in the living room, you, Jeff, Jack, and others sit at the couches and chairs in the living room, chatting away and getting to know them as they get to know you.

You feel Jeff wrap his arms around you and place a gentle kiss on your forehead, making your heart skip a beat.

You found out Jeff has been stalking you for months at a time. Watching your every move, eliminating anyone in the way. Huh, no wonder so many people in your life kept disappearing. You...couldn't bring yourself to be upset or scared, let alone even sad. You felt kind of at ease.

And far from uncomfortable. Someone loved you. Maybe more than they should, but they love you.

You didn't even feel upset at the fact Jeff had murdered that friend earlier. I mean, you just met the guy, so he wasn't even a 'friend'? So you paid no mind to it.

If anything, you really liked the thrill of someone being obsessed with you. A serial killer being so infatuated with you. He could be so protective of you and get rid of anyone you asked him to! There's is an advantage here. You knew he could snap and probably kill you intentionally or unintentionally, but you didn't mind. You really had no one else, technically speaking. No one that really cared. Not as much as he did.

Maybe he isn't so bad.

#Jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #part two #part 2 #yandere #male yandere #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #gender neutral #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x y/n #small series

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ialwaysknewyouwerepunk · 2 years

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ever since new york - a close reading

hs1, track 8

intro post - overview

here is that first post i did ages ago, which is fine as a very superficial reading, but this is the full-on deep dive that i should have granted this song from the start <3

LYRIC ANALYSIS

Tell me something, tell me something You don't know nothing, just pretend you do I need something, tell me something new

the other, "you", is the one who needs to relieve harry - harry is done looking for answers

give me anything, anything at all, even if it's pretend and not something i've heard a million times

Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote For this curse. Oh, what's it waiting for? Must this hurt you just before you go?

"choose your words": bc you might offend me? bc pls don't get my hopes up?

no antidote for what? what's the curse?

"what's it waiting for": does harry want it to hurry up? why? - seems more like something you'd say while waiting for something to hit yourself, not someone else -> the curse will hit harry

impatience, just get it over with

"must this hurt you just before you go": was "you" already certainly going? passing away? or leaving? is the thing hurting "you" something separate from what's making them go or not?

Oh, tell me something I don't already know

Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news

specific location, is the story specific to nyc? what happened in ny? or is the memory just linked to that place?

There's no water inside this swimming pool

the key to harry's universe is water

~ "two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty"

comfort, answers in/around water: mvs for golden, falling, lights up, adore you, sott. now there is no water, no way for him/his emotions to escape or even find answers

Almost over, had enough from you And I've been praying, I never did before Understand I'm talking to the walls I've been praying ever since New York

almost self-indulgent in his sadness -> sad for something that happened to him? not "you"?

"had enough from you": who says that about someone who's passing away? -> could be, but very bitter

or "you" is multiple people in this song

"understand I'm talking to the walls":

praying feels like talking to the walls: doesn't believe it'll do anything

nothing he can say or do will change anything, despite his pleas

nobody is listening to him

he's alone, lonely

something changed for good while he was in ny

Tell me something, tell me something You don't know nothing, just pretend you do Tell me something just before you go

"you" has the right words to say to h. no matter how true they are, h needs "you" to soothe him

could be that religious aspect again: tell me i'll see you again, tell me we'll be alright - and now i'm getting deep into it

SYNTHESIS

Alright, so. This song is an enigma that I'll never crack, and that's okay. It's about something deeply painful and personal to Harry, which is exactly why it's impossible to figure out. This one is for Harry, so he has a way to sing about his pain while still keeping the story to himself. Here are some of my thoughts, but feel free to throw them out of the window if they don't make sense to you.

My initial analysis zoomed in on the story that it was about Harry's grief about his stepfather's battle with cancer. I didn't leave any other options open, which doesn't do the song justice, because there are so many other ways to hear the song. This particular interpretation still makes sense, but not on its own. I think, just like any other meaningful Harry song, it's a web of emotions and things that cause him pain all connecting in the middle to create this work of art.

Reading the lyrics now, I see Harry as someone who is in pain, but also impatient, desperate but in the know that he is helpless, with that bit of anger in there, too, that is found all over HS1. Despite "you" going and also hurting, Harry is focused on his own suffering, loneliness and inability to find any answers. It's "you" who needs to give him the answers, to tell him something. The prayers, there, might actually be a red line in the song. Harry has never prayed, and doesn't believe it'll do anything for him, as he feels like no one is listening, but "you" might be able to offer some words that soothe his mind. Like a prayer, about a prayer, or something else entirely.

This religious aspect, with the notion of the "curse" that doesn't have an "antidote" (which makes the gears in my head turn bc however incurable cancer may be at times, there have been many successful recoveries, too), points me in the direction of sexuality again. It can't be changed, and it's seen, by many, as a curse, or a burden, especially in Harry's position. He's been told shit over and over again about his life, how he should live it or change it; he's heard it all before. And now, in New York, Harry hears news that makes him reach a limit. Even reach out to religion, which usually he wouldn't do, because of his sexuality. He doesn't think it would help him, specifically because of the church's famous phobic stance on homosexuality. Also, the fact that ESNY follows Kiwi on the album, reinforces this idea for me. The anger he has for what others tell him to do, decide for him, things he has no say in (it's none of your business - talking to the walls), due to his sexuality that doesn't fit their norm, flows from Kiwi into Ever Since New York, where the anger dissipates a bit and he expresses his devastation. The melodic parallel with Badfinger's Baby Blue hits hard here, when you know about that band's history (struggles with label, s*icide). (here is a post by @bluewinnerangel that deals a lot more with that subject matter and it's fucking sad so be warned. don't read if you don't like to read about what i crossed out in those brackets before)

So, connecting all of this, I hear the song differently every time. What I do know is that it's first and foremost about Harry's grief about what's happening to him. In some ways I still imagine he's talking to his stepfather, who he asks for help and relief; something he often did before. Perhaps because he's passing, and Harry needs to know he'll see him again, despite his sexuality that's labeled as a curse. And he's sorry that, right before going, he has to see Harry go through so much shit, see Harry in pain. Of course, I also relate this song heavily to Don't Let It Break Your Heart by Louis. Especially the specific line "you left a part of you in New York", again pointing to that location and something life-changing happening there that caused a lot of sadness and pain. And that song deals with mental health issues, those that can feel like they come and go, but stay with you forever. The mention of the age 27, there, as well. Just. yeah.

Maybe, Harry's just talking to himself. Praying, talking to the walls. Looking deep in that mirror, as he so often does when looking for answers. He's had enough of himself.

In any case, this is a deeply sad song where Harry expresses that he's at a point where he sees no way out. Any hope he has, like praying, seems futile to him. He keeps doing it, though. He keeps praying, he keeps asking for someone to tell him anything. To offer him solace, to talk him out of it. A lot changed with this experience Harry went through, but he got through it. Thank fuck for that.

#ever since new york #esny #hs1 analyses #lyric analyses #my posts #second to last to drop :')#they grow up so fast #tw s*icide

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lsholland · 3 years

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London Lights (pt. 1) - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (1st person)

Genre: Party!Tom

Warnings: swearing; alcohol; nothing much but I don’t recommend -18 to read.

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: Hey guys! That’s my first story on this blog. I hope you’ll like it. I’m not native so there may be a few mistakes. I’m trying a new genre of fiction. It’s my first Tom Holland fiction. It’ll be a series of 2-3 chapters. If you want to be part of the master list for Tom please like this post and message me.

Synopsis: Quarantine has been tough. I’ve lost my boyfriend, and I’m feeling lonely. Clubs and restaurants are open again, but I feel like it’ll never be like it used to. My friends have been pushing me to install Tinder and go on dates. Well, tonight, I’m going on a date. I don’t really want to but I’m going to try and have fun for once. Just a few drinks and I’ll go home. What else could happen?

PS. You can read the story on Wattpad.

What am I doing here? I think to myself.

I matched with this guy on this famous dating app . . . And now I'm supposed to meet him here, at this bar. But I don't want to. I'm just hoping he won't show up so I can escape from this shit-place.

I've been seated at the table for a good 5 minutes. The waitress cleans up the table next to mine and asks if I'm ready to order.

No, I want to leave.

I quickly glance at the drinks menu.

"Ehm . . . A pour over Irish coffee, please."

She nods and leaves. I don't even know what I just ordered. I hope it tastes good. Hopefully it'll make me drunk enough not to remember this awful date.

It hasn't even started yet.

I'm sweating.

"Hey there" says a husky voice right behind me.

I turn around and see my date. His name is Jordan. He's good-looking and I bet he's intelligent, but I don't have this feeling with him. I don't know why I accepted to go on a date in the first place. It's awkward.

"Hey!" I grin.

"Have you ordered something already?" he asks, touching his short, clean beard. "I'm thirsty!"

He looks nice.

The waitress hands me my third drink. They help the clock tick a little faster.

He's been talking about his job, his passions. He loves football and practises daily. He has 2 sisters and lives in Camberwell.

Cute.

For a moment, I feel sad for him. He drove all the way to this East London bar, put effort trying to look nice and being cool . . . and yet, he doesn't know it but he has no chance to get lucky tonight. Not with me.

I shouldn't be sorry.

But I am.

I glance around looking for something that might be a little more entertaining than him. I realise I've avoided eye contact since he arrived. I finally glimpse at him. He has beautiful hazel eyes.

Still not enough.

I quickly check my phone. It's getting late. I don't know how to end this.

"Look," I slightly bend over the table. "I'm so sorry but I don't feel like it tonight"

"I noticed." He smirked. "Kinda awkward, innit?"

I chuckle. I am so embarrassed.

"It's okay, though." He added. "I'm just trying to meet new people. I broke up with my ex-girlfriend a few weeks ago. My mates told me I should try these apps."

Okay, now I feel worse than ever. He's been so nice with me and that's how I treat him. I grab my drink and gulp it down.

I shouldn't have done this.

"Let's go dance. I owe you one." I say as I grab his hand and walk towards the dancing area. It becomes difficult to keep my head straight.

I'm drunk, I must admit.

I'm going to regret it, my sober-self shouts in my head.

I don't care is what I reply.

The dancing area is not crowded, but there are already a few people. Most of them are girls.

Girls . . . I wish my friends were not so busy all the time. I would've come to this bar with them instead of wasting my time with strangers.

I start dancing. I stare at him. He looks amused.

A group of guys join the dancefloor and all the girls on my right start screaming. It's so high pitched I cringe.

"What the fuck guys?" I shout, trying to focus on the music.

"Woah, that's Spider-Man!" says my date. He grabs my chin and makes me look in his direction.

No way, I think. It's actually him.

I know he lives in the area, but I've never met him before. It's always weird to see movie stars in real life. They look so much more attractive.

He is so much more attractive.

I try not to be a drunk fangirl and shyly wave to him. He doesn't notice.

"You wanna go and take a picture with him?" my date asks.

"Oh, no, no!" I answer. I'm blushing. "I don't even know what I'd tell him."

He laughs.

The worst thing that could happen is to annoy him during a night out. He needs privacy and I must respect it.

But it's so difficult.

I can't stop staring at him. I don't even control it. Being drunk doesn't help.

"D'you want a beer?" I ask my date whose name I completely forgot.

He nods.

I weave my way through the crowd. I can't believe there are so many people on the dancefloor. The area is so busy since the Spider-Man actor walked in.

Even the bar area is crowded.

I let my body rest against a barstool but quickly lose balance and almost fall on the dirty floor. The flickering lights are making me feel dizzy. I grip the counter and get up. I peer around to make sure nobody saw me.

He did.

I dust off my dress trying to save the dignity I have left.

"Want something?" someone asks behind me. I turn around, it's the barman.

"Two pints of Guinness, please."

I glance back at the same spot, but he's gone. It must've been a dream. I'm so drunk I can't trust everything I think I see.

I'm grabbing both my drinks and look around trying to find my date, but there are too many people. I take a sip of my beer and hold the other one above my head.

Someone hits my arm.

Oh no.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry!" yells the drunk blond girl.

I look at my dress. It's soaking wet. I politely smile at her. "It's okay," I mouth.

What a mess. I glance at the lavatory door. I need to go and save my dress.

"You haven't been lucky here."

I turn around to find out who's talking to me.

It's him. Tom Holland. Talking to me.

"What?" is all I manage to say.

"Do you need a hand?" he politely asks.

I blush so much it's noticeable in the dark.

I'm choking. I'm panicking.

I give him my two beers and walk towards the lavatory. I'm surely starstruck. And drunk. This isn't a good mix.

Once in the room, I grab a handful of tissues and try to soak up my dress. I groan. Did I expect to make that beer mark disappear? Yes. Did it work? Of course not.

I watch my face in the mirror.

I look like shit, I think.

A door slams shut. Two young girls just walked in.

"OH, MY G—THAT'S TOM HOLLAND!" shouts one. They are both panting.

I roll my eyes.

Oh . . . I've given him my beers. What about my date?

"Shit!" I hiss.

I violently open the door and frown my eyebrows as the lights blind me.

He's just here gazing at me. Two beers in his hands. One of them is half empty, the rest being displayed on my dress.

"I'm so sorry!" I say embarrassed as ever.

He smirks. "No worries." He hands me the full glass of beer.

I give him a questioning look as I grab it. What about the other one? Oh, right—He's drinking it.

"What's your na—"

I stop him.

"I know who you are." I peer down. "I'm sorry I didn't wanna disturb you" I say as I'm walking away.

This time I'm smart enough to avoid the crowd on my way out.

"That's rude to leave without saying goodbye!" Tom shouts from a distance.

I turn around and stare at him. He's got a soft smile; he doesn't look drunk at all. I wave him goodbye.

Now, he's approaching me.

"I meant to your boyfriend" he nods in the direction of my date who was dancing with a group of other people.

"He's not my—" is all I can say before he chuckles.

"I figured."

"How?" I clench my jaw. I'm hypnotised by his hand running through his hair. And his smile. And his lips.

"I can barely hear you," he points at a booth in the corner of the room "maybe we could sit there" he suggests.

My mouth softens into a smile.

It's difficult to walk with Tom Holland. Every couple of seconds he's stopped by fans requesting a picture. And he accepts every time.

I'd never be so patient.

"What's that?" he asks.

"It must be so annoying sometimes." I tell him as I sit on the booth.

"When they're nice and ask me, it's cool." He chooses to sit next to me. I can feel his arm touching mine. My heart is racing. He uses his other arm to hold his chin; he looks at me with so much intensity. Sometimes peering down my lips.

His face is so close, but he keeps talking. I can feel his breath on my skin. I'm going to burst into flames. "But when they're taking pictures without asking first, that's delicate."

I nod. I can't really listen to what he's talking about. I'm trying not to lose control.

"So, what's your name?"

He smiles when I tell him. "Why did you leave your date alone?" he asks.

I'm so nervous I stutter. I can't find my words. "I . . . I wasn't in the mood. He knows it. I shouldn't have come here."

"I'm happy you came." He says looking me in the eyes.

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you flirting with me?"

He barks out a laugh and breaks the eye contact. He rests his head on the wall behind us.

He isn't as confident as I thought he'd be. I don't know what's up with him, but I enjoy it.

I suddenly remember he's a movie star. He's always being watched. I glance at the crowd and see flashing lights. They're taking pictures of us.

I'm getting dizzier.

I don't want to see my face on a dumb article talking about Tom Holland's mysterious partner. I don't even know him.

"This is stupid" I mumble.

Tom is intrigued. He hasn't got a clue what I'm talking about. He hasn't even noticed the fans stalking him.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go" I abruptly say as I stand up. "Have a good night."

I grab my phone and leave the venue. I'm upset because I really wish I could've met him in a different context. I open my Uber app: there's no driver available.

Shit.

How's that even possible on a Friday night? In London?

I refresh the app, but it doesn't work. I guess I'll have to walk home.

A part of me wants to go back in this bar and spend time with Tom. He's sweet and I'm sure we would've had so much fun together. I glance through the window trying to see his face one last time, but I can't find him.

"What are you looking for?"

I cringe.

"Oh, sorry I didn't mean to startle you."

It's him. It's Tom.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Going home too. The fun of the party is leaving . . ." he sighs. I smile back at him. I'm embarrassed.

I stand in front of him, none of us say a word. It's awkward. I'm getting anxious and walk away. I'm so overwhelmed.

He grabs my shoulder. "Wait, are you walking home?"

"Yeah, it's okay don't worry." I smile.

"I can drive you home."

"Sorry, but you've been drinking. I won't let you drive me." I curtly say.

He grins. He looks at one of his mates and nods.

"No way I'm letting you walk home alone," he sighs "besides, you're drunk."

"Come with me then" I instantly reply without thinking.

He nods.

What?

He's coming with me. My heart is racing. I won't survive a 30-minute drunk walk with him.

Not with his beautiful glossy eyes staring at me.

Not with my burning desire to kiss him.

#tom holland #London lights fic #Tom Holland one shot #tom holland fiction #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland x reader

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ruiyuki · 3 years

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"Vanitas": The Name and Legacy

Vanitas declares early on that his motive for using the Book of Vanitas to save vampires of the Red Moon is to take "revenge against the Vampire of the Blue Moon". But some of his actions, reactions and expressions seem to contradict a conventional interpretation of "revenge". Seeing how MochiJun is a master of conveying things through facial expressions, nondescript panels, and double meanings, here's my stab at trying to figure out a bit of Vanitas' complexity and his (??hidden??) motives.

⚠️⚠️⚠️ MANGA SPOILERS, obv ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Also this analysis is really long. ‼Continuation in reblogs.‼

For the sake of minimizing confusion I'm going to refer to our!Vanitas as "Vani", Vampire of the Blue Moon (VotBM) as "Luna", and the name "Vanitas"/"Vanitas of the Blue Moon" as a title in this analysis.

0. "Revenge" against the VotBM

Now, what kicked me into this train of thought initially was watching the scene where Vani announces his revenge plot to all during the Bal Masque. Ofc Bones is doing quite a good job with the anime (I can honestly forgive them for leaving out some scenes knowing budget constraints and that this was probably produced during COVID; it's just more reason to get viewers to read the manga) but there are still some subtle nuances that MochiJun puts in her work that don't get translated into the adaptation. So I revisited Memoire 7 and something just didn't sit right upon looking at that scene retrospectively – which I'll get to that in a bit – but first let me recap what is my interpretation of Vani's proclamation:

The origin story we were told at the start of the series illustrates that vampires are typically born under the Red Moon, except for the one born under the Blue Moon. VotBM, given the moniker "Vanitas of the Blue Moon" by others at the time, is said to have created the Book of Vanitas capable of manipulating the World Formulas in order to curse all the RM vampires that casted them out of vampire society. Cursing the RM vampires = turning them into curse-bearers inflicted with malnomen.

Vani's "revenge" against the VotBM is to use their name "Vanitas" and the Book to cure all RM vampires of their curses and malnomen. In that sense, Vani saving the vampires is directly opposing the vow to curse all RM vampires as told in the VotBM origin story.

Vani's revenge claim seems pretty straight forward. There is nothing of the sort as to claiming he will turn the vampires into humans, or rewrite their existence into something they are not, etc. It is literally just "I will heal you from your sickness out of spite towards the thing that wants you to suffer". His feral revenge proclamation on top of the chandelier lines up with his feral "I will save you no matter what, using whatever method I choose" at the end of Memoire 1 as Noé points out:

So here's the thing that felt a little out of place upon my rereading of Memoire 7:

This panel. Idk about you but as a long time reader of Pandora Hearts, imo one thing that makes MochiJun such a talented artist and great storyteller of plot twists and angst is how she depicts emotions in facial expressions – it is very subtle with a certain finesse. With the above panel, Vani's expression doesn't necessarily look like "anger" or "vengeance" to me. Rather (and it took me a while to place it actually, flipping back and forth between newer and older chapters) his expression looks... melancholic? Melancholy with sense of conviction.

It's noteworthy that MochiJun has made an intentional choice to emphasize Vani gripping his closed fist and his distant stare here, so it has to be important. So, what could Vani be thinking of in this moment? And why?

I. Vani's hidden expressions and feelings towards Luna

To (attempt to) figure out what might be going through Vani's mind in this moment, let's take a look at some moments we've seen Vani making different expressions and when he's thinking back to the VotBM – or really, his time with Luna. Vani claims he hates vampires, but there are obvious exceptions (Jeanne, Noé). What's interesting though is that, despite claiming to hate the VotBM, I don't think he hates Luna. He may hate the being that Luna is but I don't think he hates Luna as a person.

We can see the difference between his hatred and active desire to kill Moreau, as well as his completely blank, no-remorse kinda expression toward the Chasseur's cross in the Catacombes arc vs the above panel after his revenge proclamation:

Also contrast the above chandelier expression to Vani's empty look of distain in Dante's flashback when they first meet:

I would say none of these Vani expressions look very similar to the chandelier one — the empty or blank stares are missing a sense of resolve and the teeth-gritting smirk lacks any bit of sadness felt in the scene. Now, when do we ever see Vani make another expression of what I would call melancholy?

Ughghgh these panels break my heart every time bc there is such a sense of sadness, it's distant but palpable and it is t r a g i c... but I digress.

We have no way of knowing what Vani is thinking in these panels but I have a few ideas:

Vani thinks back to something Luna said about how one should use the Book of Vanitas when Noé says using the Book's power to cure curse-bearers is "overwhelmingly right". What Luna said? Who knows, but it may be along the same lines of "despite its power" and "doing the right thing".

Vani realizes the reason Misha wants Noé to drink his blood is bc Misha doesn't remember what happened That Day. He repeats "... I see." twice as if he's reaffirming to himself that he's the only one left that remembers what happened. If Misha did remember, there would be another person to share the memory but Misha doesn't and Vani is alone in the world in that sense.

If we are to assume that this is what's going through Vani's mind in these moments, then we have to ask why? Vani thinking back to his time with Misha and Luna elicits this sadness (possibly likely?) bc Vani did truly enjoy his time with them and didn't actually hate Luna. In his own flashbacks of Luna teaching he and Misha about malnomen (first being Malnomen Prèdateur in the Catacombes arc, second of Chloé's Malnomen Millie) and the flashback of "love" during the Gevaudan Arc, we see that Vani may be grumpy or indifferent while being with Luna, but he is still attentively listening and comfortable enough around them for them to hug him:

Ofc, we can't forget that Vani, in his fever and poison-induced delirium, even mumbles to himself ".. didn't actually hate... I didn't... Lou..—" while recovering in the cabin with Jeanne. Given that just before this he asks "Is that what you really want? Truly?" in response to Jeanne saying "This time for sure, I'll kill the beast", perhaps we can even posit that Vani didn't actually hate Luna and didn't actually want to kill them? (I have another theory on what could have happened on That Day but let's get through this one first *wheeze*).

So let's summarize:

Vani claims he will cure RM vampires of their malnomen as revenge toward the VotBM, who is said to have created the Book of Vanitas to curse RM vampires that made them an outcast.

Curing RM vampires of malnomen = revenge since it is directly opposing using the Book to inflict curses

But Vani shows a look of sadness mixed with conviction that contradicts what would be thought of when claiming "revenge", which could possibly be him thinking back to his time with Luna, whom he did not actually hate and possibly did not want to kill but had to anyway.

So here's my theory: the reason why Vani has assumed the name "Vanitas" and is on a quest to cure RM vampires of their malnomen with the Book of Vanitas is to "rewrite" the reputation behind the name Vanitas of the Blue Moon.

... And I will continue explaining this in the reblogs ⤵️⤵️⤵️ bc holy fuck this meta is so long I have reached the image limit per post asjfklgs

#vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vnc meta #vnc theory #vnc manga #vnc spoilers #vanitas of the blue moon #pls read the continuation before rb #long post #like i mean REALLY long post #w h e e z e

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in-superbloom · 3 years

Text

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

#anna writes #perhaps she does write after all #alright i'm gonna go hide somewhere now bye #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin fic #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin x oc #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #ashton irwin imagine #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #anna writes: rwylm

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topsytervy · 3 years

Text

The Right Time ~ JJ Maybank

Blurb: JJ finds the right time to tell you how he feels in his own JJ way.

This is Part 2 of Not The Right Time so if you haven't read Part 1, you can read it here.

Word Count: 2,819

Warnings: mentions of drinking, cheating, a non-descriptive fight, teensy bit of blood, small nod towards suicidal thoughts at the end, cliche and cheesy writing, swearing, poorly proofread so probably spelling and grammar mistakes, I think that's it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since your breakup with Brett, JJ had been doing everything in his power to make sure you knew it had nothing to do with you and Brett just couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

It was hard for him to see you like that, all heart broken and sad, but at least he was able to see you. Kie, Pope, Sarah and John B had tried visiting multiple times during your post breakup hermit phase with little to no success.

A knock on the door sounded throughout the house as JJ finished preparing lunch for you two.

"Hold on!" He hollered, finishing up your sandwich before heading over to the door.

He opened it to reveal the other four members of your group.

"Hey." JJ greeted his friends.

"Can we see her today?" John B asked.

"I can ask but her 'social battery's low'. Her words, not mine." JJ sighed.

"It's just that it's hard for us to not see her, J."

JJ looked at Sarah. " At least you don't have to see her completely shattered everyday and have to sit and watch her eat three times a day to make sure she actually does eat."

Pope looked past JJ and saw the sandwiches on the table. "Can I sit with her today?"

JJ looked at Pope before nodding and gesturing towards your sandwich. "That one right there."

Pope smiled before grabbing the sandwich and knocking on your door, hearing a faint come in afterwards.

You looked to see Pope entering, a small smile on his face. "Hey. Heard about your low battery and I figured you'd want to see someone who's not JJ but not the whole peanut gallery."

You smiled lightly as you sat up. "Thanks, Pope. I love JJ but he can be a bit...overbearing sometimes."

"And this is one of those times." Pope nodded.

You sighed as Pope gave you your sandwich.

"He's just concerned about you. We all are."

"l know."

"How about I tell you about some books I've been reading?"

"I'd like that Pope." You smiled as you bit into your food.

It's not that JJ was bad at comforting or anything like that. In fact, ever since you were a kid, you always went to him for comfort when you were upset. It's just that JJ always seemed to want to rush your mourning period.

JJ didn't like seeing you sad so the less time you spent crying and moping, the better for him.

"Morning, Y/N/N." JJ smiled lightly as he drew back your curtains.

"J, get out." You mumbled into your pillow.

"You gotta get up, sweetheart." JJ practically sang, walking over to your bed and grabbing the comforter.

Your grip immediately tightened. "Don't J."

"I know it's only been a week but come on Y/N. Let in some sun. If not for you, do it for your children." He nodded towards your plants as he laid down next to you.

"I can't get up." You told him.

"Sure you can. You're a bad bitch who isn't going to let this break her. I'm not going to allow you to bury yourself in work and hole yourself up in your room forever just because some dumbass doesn't realize when he's got the greatest girl to ever walk the earth."

You stared at the blonde next to you. "JJ. I can't get up cause you're in here and I'm only in my underwear.

JJ rolled his eyes. "Y/N, all due respect, that's no excuse cause I've seen you naked many times before. the time you broke your ankle in the shower being the main one cause I had to help you in and out of the shower multiple times."

You blushed at his words before shoving him. "Just get out."

JJ did as you requested but not before tossing you some clothes.

So when a few months had passed and you seemed to be back to pre-breakup Y/N, JJ was happy to hear Kie mention a party.

Everyone looked at you and you shrugged. "Why the hell not?"

JJ, John B and Pope all exchanged smiles as Sarah and Kie pulled you up from your seat, saying something about making you so hot that the sun would quit and you'd have to take over the job of keeping the earth warm.

JJ watched as you left, sighing as he let his head fall against the back of the couch.

John B looked at his best friend. "Don't be a helicopter JJ tonight."

A look of confusion found its way onto JJ's face. "Helicopter JJ? What the fuck does that mean?"

Pope sighed. "It's like a helicopter parent except you. You tend to hover over Y/N/N at parties and get a bit...protective at times."

"I do that with Kie and Sarah too." JJ scoffed.

"Not really." The boys responded.

"You don't follow Kie's movements as much as Y/N's." Pope started.

"You certainly don't freak out as much when you lose Sarah or Kie but you almost had a panic attack when you lost Y/N that one time at the store and literally had someone page her." John B added.

"You hide some of Y/N/N's clothes when we're going out because you don't like the chance of her wearing something that could cause a guy to like her and cause you to lose your chance with her."

"I once saw you shield her eyes at prom when people started grinding on each other."

"Okay! So I'm a bit more protective of Y/N than the other two. Sue me." JJ cut the two off.

"Point is that this is her first party in months. Let her get a bit too drunk and make out with some hotshot Kook against a tree."

"Hell, let her get some dick tonight." John B shrugged.

Pope and JJ looked at their curly haired friend before JJ shook his head.

"Fine but she's not getting dick from just anybody. I have to approve of him." JJ said as he stood up and left the room,

The two other boys sat in silence before Pope spoke.

"You know what? I count that as progress and when we make progress with JJ…"

"We have a beer." John B finished, getting up to go get each of them a can.

*****

You and the rest of the pogues made it to the party and found yourselves a home by the bonfire. Rafe, Topper and Kelce had stopped by to say that they were happy to see you again and Kelce was happy that his beer pong partner was back because Rafe and Topper just didn't compare to you.

JJ stared at you, the fire illuminating your features as you laughed at something Kie had said, red cup in his hand that was half-empty. He brought the cup to his lips and finished his beer before turning to you.

"Refill, Y/N/N?"

You nodded before turning to the rest of the group. "JJ and I are making a refill trip. Who else needs one? Speak now or get it yourself." You announced as you stood up.

JJ smiled at your words before also getting up, ready to grab some cups. Pope and Sarah held out their cups while Kie and John B shook their heads.

You took the cups that needed a refill before you and JJ made your way through the crowd of people towards the keg. JJ cracked some jokes with some of the others around the keg and you rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face before you nudged him with your shoulder.

You two started refilling the cups you had before you were interrupted.

"Haven't see you at a party in awhile, Y/N."

You and JJ turned your heads to see Brett standing there, two cups in his hand.

JJ rolled his eyes before looking at you, seeing you avert your gaze back to the keg.

"Why don't you go back to your whore over there Brett." JJ deadpanned.

You smacked JJ's wrist. "Don't call her a whore, JJ. It's rude."

"I'm just stating my opinion."

"Oh so she does still talk. I was just confused when she didn't say hi to me when I greeted her." Brett said.

"Can you get the fuck away from us? She clearly doesn't want to have a conversation with you." JJ snapped.

"I would love to know what you have to say, Y/N, or are you gonna let JJ over here keep talking for you." Brett aimed at you, ignoring the blonde who was getting more agitated by Brett's presence.

"I have nothing to say to you." You shrugged, going to grab the cup.

"We should talk." Brett went to grab you but JJ grabbed his wrist.

"Don't touch her."

"What are you gonna do about it, Maybank?"

"I've got two fists that have been itching to meet your face for months now and tonight might be their lucky night if you keep it up."

"JJ, lets just go." You whispered, placing a hand on his forearm.

JJ looked at you before grabbing his and Pope's cup before following you back to the group.

"Hey, JJ!" Brett called causing JJ to look back.

You gasped as a fist made contact with JJ's face. JJs hand immediately flew to his eye, gingerly touching his eyebrow. He pulled his fingers away to see blood and he chuckled before swinging his own fist.

It wasn't long before JJ had Brett on the ground, pissed beyond belief. Brett managed to get a few more punches in but JJ definitely got way more in by the time you managed to pull him off of Brett with Kelce's help.

"JJ! Calm down, man! He's not worth your time!" Kelce hollered, pinning his arms to his side.

"JJ, look at me. It's done. It's over. You're good now." You told him.

Brett stood up with a scoff. "He could have fucking killed me."

"I fucking should, you cheating son of a bitch!" JJ spat, Kelce's grip tightening on the blonde boy when JJ attempted to lunge forward.

"J, let's just go home. We've had our fun."

JJ looked at you before relaxing causing Kelce to release his hold on him slowly. You grabbed JJ's hand and pulled him away from the small crowd that had formed around him and Brett.

You two said goodbye to your friends and walked back to JJ's truck, you climbing into the passenger seat and him into the drivers.

It was a quiet ride home, Twenty One Pilots playing softly through the speakers the entire time. JJ referred to them as his therapy band, often putting them on after a hard day at work or after a fight so it wasn't really a surprise that he had one of their CDs in.

Once you got home and inside, JJ locked the door before turning towards his bedroom.

"Um, excuse me. Where are you going, JJ?" You asked, grabbing his wrist.

"Bed."

You shook your head. "We gotta clean you up. Bed can wait."

You tugged him into the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit as you instructed JJ to sit on the toilet lid. He complied, bouncing his leg up and down as you put a little hydrogen peroxide on a cotton ball.

"That's your first fight in a while." You commented, grabbing his chin lightly and forcing him to look at you.

He grunted in response as you started cleaning the few small cuts on his face. "The prick deserved it for what he did to you. You'd have to be fucking nuts to cheat on someone like you."

You felt my heart flutter at his words and I sighed. "I just hate seeing you like this, JJ. All scratched up."

JJ chuckled as he shook his head lightly. "Oh, Y/N, sweetheart. This is nothing compared to the beat down Brett just got and what my dad used to dish out when I was living with him."

JJ saw your face drop at his words and your eyes begin to water.

"Hey, Y/N. It was just a small joke." He told you gently as he grabbed your hands with his.

You shook your head and went to pull away from him but he just pulled you back, looking up at you as if he was a parent trying to comfort their child.

It weirdly looked like all those Super Nanny time out scenes where the kid looks down in shame as they apologize and the parent is dipping their head down to make eye contact with the kid. You know what I'm talking about?

"I don't like it when you do the whole 'my dad hit me harder thing', J, whenever you try to play off your pain and injuries." You mumbled, a tear slipping out.

JJ wiped away the single tear, mad at himself for upsetting you. "I'm sorry but maybe the waterworks are a bit much. Hmm?"

"I'm sorry. It's just that you shouldn't fight my battles for me. I was going to just walk away from him."

"I'm sorry, are we ignoring the fact that I was walking away? He threw the first punch and I made sure he would think twice before doing that again."

"I just don't like you getting hurt because of me." You sighed.

"Hey, I'd rather get hurt than have you get hurt."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and his went around your waist.

"I always liked your hugs better." You hummed.

JJ felt himself smile. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "You wanna know something, J?"

"Yeah."

"I always felt like you paid more attention to me than Brett. After a year of dating him, he still didn't know my favorite flowers or that I was allergic to bees. Those are the two simplest things to learn about your significant other. You know that I can't even stand the smell of fish sticks anymore or that I can't watch the Freaky Fred episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog or I'll have nightmares."

"That's because I care about you a lot." JJ whispered, kissing your temple.

You ran a hand through JJs blonde locks and sighed. "I wish I dated you instead."

You froze. You could not believe that you had just told your best friend that. You also could not believe how easily those words left your mouth and how much truth there was to them. You did wish you dated JJ instead and not just because of how attractive he was. He always treated you way better than Brett and was more intune -and concerned- about how you were feeling.

JJ also froze, praying that he heard those words correctly and that it wasn't his mind playing a sick joke. He had been waiting for the right time for months and his gut had been telling him all day that today was the day but he fought the urge, afraid his gut was lying. But this...this must be the sign.

"Do you really mean that?" He asked, fighting a smile in case you meant a guy like him and not actually him.

You paused before nodding. "Yeah, I do."

You felt his arms tighten around you and his face bury itself in the crook of your neck.

"You remember all those months ago when you made a big deal about me liking someone and you asked me why I hadn't made a move yet and I told you it wasn't the right time?" JJ words were muffled by your skin.

"Mhmm."

He pulled away to look at you. "I think now's the right time."

And then he pressed his lips against yours. You were quick to kiss back and it held the adoration you felt was missing long before you and Brett broke up.

You pulled away, placing a hand on his cheek which caused JJ to close his eyes and lean into your touch.

"Thank you for being in my life." You whispered, taking the forgotten cotton ball in your hand and pressing it to the scratch above his eyebrow.

JJ smiled. "No. Thank you for being in mine. You helped me through the toughest times and gave me a reason to stay."

"I wouldn't have objected to leaving the Outer Banks with you."

"I meant like stay here, like on Earth." He mumbled.

You stared at him before kissing his cheek. "Thank you for staying here with me."

JJ opened his eyes and grinned as some hair fell in front of his eyes. "As much as I love our little moment, can we move the cleaning process along cause I kind of want to climb into bed with you in my arms tonight."

You smiled, pushing his hair out of his face. "Sure thing, Jay-Bird. That sounds amazing."

~~~~~~~~

#jj outer banks #jj obx #jj x reader #jj maybank #rudy pankow

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sarcastically-defensive17 · 4 years

Note

Hey, so I really like your work so I have a request 👀 maybe you could write Luke and reader being best friends but both having deeper feelings, they're roommates but they fight over Luke's gf bc he says that she needs to move out bc his girlfriend wants to move in and she doesn't like reader so she ends up leaving and running with Crystal but she asks to not tell anyone (except Mike for obvious reasons) that she's there and Luke is really worried but he and reader end up together, pretty please

I LOVE THIS REQUEST!! Sorry if I didn’t do it justice, but I hope you like it!

Also I’m so sorry that the layout went weird! I posted it from my computer and now it looks odd on the phone!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Love? Love. - L. Hemmings

"If she gets those fake blonde extensions wrapped around my straightener one more time, Lucas, I will rip them out myself."

He simply sighed, focusing more of his attention on his phone rather than his best friend.

Y/N and Luke has been best friends since they were 17. They kindled their friendship on the very last day of year 12, such as she did with Calum and Michael.

Since that day, as they sat in the barren English Room and discussed everything and anything that came to mind, her and Luke had been inseparable.

She was the Bucky to his Steve, the Yang to his Yin, the regular sized human to his giant stature.

Well, until Suzanna stepped into the picture.

She is 5"7, coated in fake tan that was applied by somebody with the vision of Stevie Wonder and fake blonde extensions that accentuate how beautiful she would be, if she toned down the Geordie Shore look.

Y/N couldn't help but wonder if her personality would be able to shine brightly through the thick foundation, if she had one, that is.

"Thank you for pretending to listen to me, I appreciate it so much," she rolled her eyes.

For the past few weeks the air in the house had been incredibly tense.

"Y/N?" He asked, his voice hesitant. "Can I talk to you about something?"

She couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up. This was the calmest her and luke had been with each other in almost a week, and she would take any chance to talk to him in a civilized manner.

To be honest, the idea of talking to him did nothing to quell the overflowing feelings she had for the man.

"Is that even a question? You can always talk to me, Lu," she sat opposite to him on the lounge, pulling her legs up underneath her.

He was nervous. That was obvious in the way he raked his fingers through his blonde curls. Suzanna constantly hounded at him to cut his hair but Y/N knew how much he loved his hair.

She couldn't deny that she adored the ringlets that decorated his soft locks.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about this for a little bit," he rung his hands together, spinning rings on his fingers. "I, um, I'm gonna need you to move out."

He mumbled the last few words, sighing softly when she asked him to repeat it. It's safe to say, she was at a loss of words.

"You - you want me to move out? Why?" Her eyebrow was cocked, and she tilted her head to the side slightly.

Luke couldn't help but admire how much she resembled a puppy dog. He always found her to be a mix of adorable and purely beautiful. Which is part of the reason he forced himself to say yes when Suzanna asked to take a larger step in their relationship.

He had spent so much time fighting his feelings for Y/N. Suzanna helped, but he still needed to force himself to deny his feelings in favour of the smaller ones he had for his girlfriend.

He was cruel, he knew it.

"Suzanna and I were talking, and we’re ready to move in together. And she couldn't move in here because of-"

"Because of what? Because I can't stand the woman that has cheated on you multiple times?" Y/N was angry, that much she knew. She couldn't believe the audacity. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Well I would love nothing more than for my girlfriend and my best friend to get along but you make it so difficult for Suzanna to get to know you," he snapped pinching the bridge of his nose between his long fingers.

"I gave her a chance before she slept with one of your mates, Luke. As far as I'm concerned, you should have gotten rid of her months ago when she did it a second time."

"Why can't you just be happy for me?" His eyes were narrowed and the blue orbs held the same lack of patience she had seen a lot over the past week.

She opened her mouth to retort but couldn't find the words to say. Truthfully, she was shattered when Luke told her about his relationship, but she decided to be the bigger person and let go of the idea that Luke could be hers. Their friendship has lasted too long for that to be a possibility.

Luke's comment set her off.

"Oh so I am meant to happy for you, with the Geordie Barbie who fucks another guy regularly, but you couldn't be happy for me with Daniel?"

"Daniel was an asshole!"

"And so is Suzanna!"

They were both on their feet now, staring each other down with a ferocity they hadn't seen since an argument in their teenage years.

Sure, Daniel was a bit of an asshole, but Luke knew he was in the wrong for hating the man so fiercely. The moment he had finally worked up the nerve to ask Y/N on a date - a real date - Daniel swept in and the two were together for almost a year until he started getting more controlling.

The last straw was when Daniel flipped because of the close relationship Y/N and Luke shared and Luke threw a punch at him.

"You're jealous," Luke scoffed, his blue eyes aimed anywhere but at her for he knew his anger was unwarranted but he couldn't bare to face the truth about his relationship.

"Excuse me?" She cocked a brow again and he had to glance away quickly as his eyes fell on her for a second.

"You are jealous that I can keep somebody around and you haven't been able to keep anybody around for almost a year." His brows were pinched tight together and he squared his shoulders.

It was easy for Y/N to notice the slight hunch in his posture, a symbol that he was immediately guilt stricken by his words.

"Oh, I'm so sorry that I can't settle for somebody who doesn't deserve me," she barked out a sarcastic laugh, slamming her hand on the bench to grab her keys.

Luke opened his mouth to retort, but she fixed him with a glare so angry that he physically recoiled.

She slipped her vans on at the door, grabbing her bag off of the hook where she organized all of her daily belongings. She was meticulous and Luke had always admired how neat she was compared to his disorganized chaos.

"You wanted me gone? I'm going. Don't bother contacting me til you wake up to yourself," she stomped towards the door, pausing as she pulled the wood open. "I'll have my stuff gone by the end of the week. Tell Barbie to keep my straightener. God knows she fucked it anyways."

The door slammed behind her and the entire house instantly felt as if the warmth was gone.

She went straight to Crystal's house. The woman was packing for the impending move to a new house; one which her and Michael would share.

"So he wants you to move out so that thing can move in?" Her voice was laced with disgust.

All of them despise Suzanna. The woman had hurt Luke more times than they could count, she blatantly ignores or insults both Y/N and Crystal for fear of any sort of threat in her relationship, yet she regularly cheats on him.

Go figure.

Y/N made a noise of agreement around her glass of wine. The minute she had stepped in the door Crystal had phoned Micheal and ordered a Girls Night, to which Y/N profusely demanded that she would make it up to the couple whose date night she disturbed.

"He better hope I don't get my hands on him, Y/N."

"It's not worth it Crys," she sighed, swirling the contents of her glass in a circle. "I've been basically invisible in that house since the Barbie started coming around."

Crystal pulled the girl into a hug. Not many knew of her hidden feelings for Luke, but Crystal figured it out after a week of knowing the pair.

"I'll cut her extensions and glue them to Luke's eyebrows."

<><><><><><>

Exactly a month had passed. Y/N had ordered Crystal and Michael to not speak a word of where she was because she didn't want to see Luke. Instead, she found a small apartment to live in, while she gathered her wits to find a better place.

She knew it was petty, but she didn't have the care to feel guilty.

Luke on the other hand, was going insane and harbored so much regret surrounding his decision that he couldn't bare to think straight.

Moving in with Suzanna did nothing to make the home feel less empty. Y/N had made sure to collect the rest of her things while Luke was out.

She knew his schedule inside and out and used it to her advantage.

Luke wanted nothing more than to see her face. To hear her voice. The time apart made him realize just how deep his feelings went. The same feelings he had spent many years attempting to bury.

Now his only fear was that he would never get the chance to tell the woman how much he needs her in his life.

That, and how he would manage to get rid of the woman who he had caught sneaking out of their house at all hours of the night.

He didn't know what to expect when he entered his house to hear pornographic moans echoing from the bedroom.

He didn't feel angry. He didn't feel sad. He didn't even feel betrayed.

In fact, he couldn't contain his laughter. After all, catching her in the act of cheating on him simply opened the window for him to break up with her without the guilt.

He simply walked towards their bedroom door, which was ajar, and entered with no hesitation.

He was met with the sight of a bare assed male and a moaning Suzanna.

"I'm breaking up with you," he had a wide smile on his face, already planning his next actions with severe determination. He pulled his long curls into a small bun at the back of his head, “Please get out by tomorrow?"

He didn't leave room for her to argue, instead choosing to snatch his keys off of the bench and exit the house while Suzanna called him from behind.

The minute his backside hit the seat of his Jeep, he had the key turned in the ignition and he was dialing Crystal's phone number.

If anybody knew how to get in contact with Y/N, it would be the woman she had the closest bond to.

"What do you want, Luke?"

"Is Y/N at your house?" He asked quickly.

He was met with silence for a moment. He knew that Crystal knew where she was, but he also knew Crystal would most likely be reluctant.

"Why should I tell you? Want to go kick her out of her own house again?" He heard the malice in her voice.

It was obvious that after a month the pain would still linger. He deserved to be spoken to in such a way.

He knew he had a lot to make up for.

A deep sigh sounded through the receiver, and Crystal took another moment to reply.

"She is going to kill me for this, but I swear, you better be taking your breadstick ass over to apologise or I will kill you myself," she recited the address for an apartment not far from where Crystal and Michael now lived, and hung the phone up without another word.

He arrived at the apartment block soon after, and rushed up the stairs - not having the patience to wait for the elevator.

Number 304 shone brightly in his vision, and his heart tugged at the thought of seeing Y/N again.

He knocked with such urgency that caused the girl inside to jump out of her seat.

The door swung open and before she could close it in his face a converse covered foot was wedged between the door and the frame.

He cringed at the pain but refused to move it.

"What do you want?" Her voice was hard, and his stomach lurched at the sound. Even if she was mad, she still sounded more melodic that he ever could.

He chose to jump straight to the point, not wanting to leave room for her to reject him before he could confess.

"I have been in love with you since a few months after we met. I realised it when we were at your house, and you were doting over your baby cousin," His eyes were basically smiling, as he retrieved the fond memory. "Since that moment, I have done my best to push down how I feel about you, but I am sick of hiding it. I just broke up with Suzanna. I walked in on her with another guy, but I can't do this without you. I can't go back to that house for another minute without you there."

She was at a loss for words. He spoke so fast that it took a moment to piece his sentences together, and when she did, she couldn't help the confused look that coated her features.

"You- what?"

"I broke up with Suzanna," he had a wide smile on his face that she couldn't comprehend.

"Finally?"

"Yes. And, I have been in love with you since we were 18."

"Are you sure?" She cocked her head again.

The action made his stomach erupt in butterflies. He truly adored how she could look so cute through a simple gesture.

Y/N was genuinely confused. She knew how she felt about Luke. The month apart from him hadn't done anything to stop those feelings.

She truly had feelings stronger for him than she had for any of her past relationships. If she were to think about it, she would even say that she loved him.

"How could I not be sure?" He pinched his brows together in confusion. He grabbed both of her hands in his, leading her into the house and to the lounge where they both slumped down.

She stammered, "Where did this even come from? How?-"

He moved his hands to the side of her face, framing her confused expression.

She didn't know how to feel. For so long, Y/N had longed for Luke to notice her in such a way, and now that he is admitting that he has felt the same way about her that she had about him for so long, she was truly at a loss of words.

His eyes were full of pent up emotion. He didn't necessarily look sad, but he looked the most apologetic she had ever seen him, and she had been there through many emotions with the man,"Y/N, I'm sorry. Not just for what happened last month, but for everything I have done. I'm sorry I couldn't work up the courage to confess to you so many years ago, I'm sorry I let my jealousy ruin your relationship with Daniel, I am sorry I wasted time with other girls just to try and deny how much I truly adore you, and I am sorry that I ever thought I would be happy choosing anybody over you. I can't stand to live without you, and even if you have zero feelings for me in the same way I feel for you, would you please come back-"

She pulled his hands from her face and put her own on his before crushing her lips against his in an urgent moment of passion.

The contact was full of so much emotion, and it was the most loving kiss she had experienced from any of those who she had kissed.

It was intimate, but not rushed. Simply lips against lips; no pushing to move it deeper.

They pulled back after an unknown time, and she bumped her nose against his.

"I can't tell you how long I have wanted to do that for," she told him, feeling most of her anger melt away along with her confusion.

Instead, they both felt a love that they hadn't felt before.

"Come back, please?" He was ready to beg. Hell, he was ready to not go back to that house until she was ready to go with him.

"My name's still on the lease, you can bet your thick ass I'm coming back. But if I see one blonde hair extension, I will go on the warpath," she smirked at him, staring at his plump lips.

"I'll make sure it's spotless for your return," Luke beamed at her, feeling his nerves both escape his body and ignite at her touch.

"Good. Now get back over here and kiss me some more."

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings x reader #5sos #5 seconds of summer #crystal leigh #michael clifford #calum hood #Ashton irwin

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addictofsupernatural · 4 years

Text

Spidey Senses (pt. 4)

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You and your friends prepare to go to a costume party, and Peter has conflicting feelings.

Word Count: 2917

Chapter 1 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 5

Peter stayed up at night thinking about you. He couldn't explain it. You were the only one on his mind for some unexplainable reason. The hotel room was the first time in a while you two slept together, and it was different from how he remembered. It didn't feel like sleeping in the same room with a sister that he slightly remembered as a kid. It made him feel weird.

You were so warm. You had your natural smell you always had, but it smelled a lot better than he remembered. A lot more calming. He could sense your happiness at full prime, and your sad ones too. You had a lot of happy emotions earlier this day, both in the hotel room and during the fight. It was hard to describe, but spending the day with you made him feel so warm.

And you and Tony's friendship. Peter did always love your sarcastic side, and he was so proud of you for showing it to Tony. You were so awesome. He's always thought you were awesome. So why did you feel different right now?

You were weirdly a lot prettier in his mind. His spidey sense was buzzing around you. He felt happy when you laughed. The feeling was still lingering by just thinking about it. And when you had your nightmare, he felt almost in physical pain himself.

Maybe it's just your spidey senses clashing with each other. Maybe it's the puberty kicking in? It's probably nothing. He just needs to go to sleep... Anytime now...

The next morning Peter ate his breakfast in a daze. "What's wrong Peter?" Aunt May asked. You're all spaced out."

"I don't know. Just thinking."

"Uh oh." She teased as he sat down. "About what? That Liz girl?"

"No. Y/n actually." He didn't realize how misleading that came out.

"Well finally. I was wondering when you'd realize your feelings for her."

"What?! Aunt May, no! That's not what I meant at all."

"Oh." She blankly said. "Then forget everything I just said. Have a nice day at school."

Meanwhile, you woke up back in your empty apartment with no excitement. As you ate your breakfast in silence, you felt like an idiot. How could you be so rude to Tony Stark? He was being nice in his own way. What the hell is wrong with you?

Your landlord then knocked on your door, giving you a huge suitcase and telling you that it was left for you by someone named Happy. You thanked him and opened it. It was clothing. A bunch of nice, expensive looking clothing. They were weirdly your style; they weren't flashy and didn't show off any brands. There was a card as well.

Hey kid. I might've came across as a rich jerk. That's not what I meant to be. Here's a little something so you don't look homeless. You're welcome. Also, here's Happy's number. Xxx-xxx-xxxx. Don't still be mad at me. Nobody likes a petty person. And besides, you're my favorite "other kid". Keep in touch. -TS

You smiled and put on a pair of clothes, texting Happy to thank Tony and for Happy to keep you posted about Tony and him.

You then walked to Peter's, waiting on the steps as usual. You smiled when he stepped out, and to your surprise, he just began to walk straight ahead instead of saying anything. "Woah, Peter wait up. You okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Think so." He only gave you a glance.

"If you wanna talk, you know I'm all ears." You offered, and he took another glance at your beautiful smile, only making him more nervous.

"No, no it's okay. I'm okay."

"Oh." You quietly said. He was being so weird to you. Why wouldn't he look at you? "I didn't do anything, did I?"

"No!" He said too quickly.

"You can be honest with me Peter. I hope you know that." You only looked down, and he held his gaze to you for the first time today. "I'm really sorry if I did something. I just hope we can fix it so things won't be weird."

"What? No, I swear you don't need to worry. It's really not you. It's me. I'm... Going through puberty. Seeing things and people, uh, differently. Sorry if I'm being weird." His voice cracked on the word weird.

You giggled. "Oh. That's totally okay. I wonder if your spidey senses are out of wack from it."

"My what?"

"Your spidey senses. That's what I'm calling it. Aunt May calls it something else though, I just forgot what."

"No, you don't need to repeat what she calls it!"

You were genuinely curious. "Why not? Maybe it's a better name for us to—"

"I'm not letting you call it that!" He cut you off. Peter would be damned if you called your instinctive feelings your Peter Tingle. "I like spidey senses. It's cool and cute. Now what do you mean by it being out of wack?"

You figured if Aunt May's nickname for your sixth sense was truly that embarrassing for him then he wouldn't tell you, so you just dropped it.

"I was just wondering if your powers gets affected by puberty."

"How, how did you deal with puberty and your powers?"

"Oh, I started my period long before the spider bite. That could've been so sucky." He made a face, and you chuckled. "Right, no p word. Sorry."

"It's fine. Just don't want to think about it."

You sighed. "Me neither. I wish I had that option."

He smiled as his eyes drifted towards your clothes. "Did Mr. Stark get you those?"

You looked down at your outfit. "Yeah actually. I guess I didn't scare him off after all."

"I guess not." You nudged each other's arm to tease. "I have the check he made to you. I think you should take it. It could make him happy."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks Peter. You always have my back."

As he stared at your smile and sensed your happiness, he had that weird feeling in him again. What was it? It didn't matter. Peter was going to push away those feelings and focus on school, Liz, and Spiderman.

Later on that day you got a text from Happy, saying that Tony accepts your apology, and to fill in on what's going on once a week for him and Tony. You did, and you could tell he cared. He would sometimes tell you a little something about his day or week. He was indeed becoming a good friend.

A few months passed and you and Peter adjusted to your new superhero lives well together. You and Happy texted each other at least once a week, and gave Peter Happy's number out of request. Tony was given information Happy thought he should know, and Tony was secretly happy to be hearing about how well you and Peter were doing. It made him feel like he was protecting you two from a distance.

One day at lunch Flash came up to you and began to gross you out yet again. "Hey girl, what're you doing next Friday night?"

"I don't know. I might take an extra shift at work. Not everybody has a silver spoon down their throats." You had a hint of annoyance to your words.

"Are you saying you need someone like me to take care of you?"

"I'm saying I might have to work because I actually earn the things I get in life Flash."

"Well not when you're someone like me you doesn't really have to worry about working hard on things. It comes naturally." He leaned on the table and shoved away Peter's backpack that was a seat holder, causing you to throw him a dirty look.

"What were you going to ask me Flash?" You kept your voice calm.

"Just wanted to know if you were coming to my party next Friday. Y'know, maybe show up to see me."

"I would never go anywhere to see you Flash."

"C'mon, I'm rich, you got a nice body, let's make other people jealous. I can make some dreams come true. It's not like you don't need the money."

"You didn't even care that I existed until a few months ago." You glared at him. This was a proper asshole. Now you knew.

"That's because it was when you started wearing better clothes. Now that I know there's a hottie under all that nerd, I can get behind it."

"The answer is no. Leave me alone!" You said a little more forcefully. People were beginning to stare, and Flash's face became red. No one said no to him.

"Okay, what's it gonna take to get you there?" He leaned in and asked quietly.

"Is anyone from Mathletes gonna come?"

"Yeah. I invited Liz and she told some other people in the club to come."

"Then I'll only go if I can bring Ned and Peter."

He scoffed. "Yeah, I guess."

"Okay then. We'll be there." He sighed in relief. Nobody says no to him, and still haven't.

Your annoyed expression forced itself to a barely there smile when Peter and Ned walked to your table. "Why was Flash talking to you?" Ned asked.

"I guess we're going to a party next Friday." Peter looked confused while Ned couldn't be more happy.

"Oh my God We can be, like, cool now!"

"Why would you say yes to a party from Flash?" Peter asked.

"Liz will be there." Peter's body language changed. "It's a costume party, so you guys find yourselves something to wear."

"You say it like your not going." Peter said, slightly disappointed.

"I'll probably go to make an appearance and leave." You said as you stared at your school food.

"But it won't be the same without you." Peter frowned and shook his head.

"Peter's actually pretty true about that." Ned contently nodded.

"I just don't want to go there. That's it."

"Why are you short today?" Peter blankly asked. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said. You then got up and dumped your food in the trash. "I'm gonna go to the restroom. Bye."

As you quickly walked off, Mj spoke up from the other end of the table. "You two are idiots."

"What did we do?" Ned sceptically asked.

"It's what Flash did. It's obvious that he said something to make her feel like crap. When is he not a rich narcissist?" Peter shot up and quickly went after you by hearing that.

"He's an even bigger idiot." Mj said.

"Yeah, but he'll figure it out someday." Ned shrugged, getting up and going after you too.

You got to the bathroom and put a bunch of paper towels on the corner of the floor. You set your backpack on the floor and sat down. You take out your phone and send a text to Happy, not really knowing who else to talk to. You usually only text him to give each other check ups, rarely actually communicating back and forth.

You: What do you do when a rich asshole makes you feel like you're worth shit?

You stared at your phone and scoffed. Don't be stupid. He's busy. You put your head in your knees. Why do people still get to you? Liz has a ton of money. You wondered if she ever had anything to be ashamed about.

People only started looking at you once you started wearing the clothes Tony got you. Most weren't even revealing at all, they just looked expensive. This was a different feeling. You used to feel ugly and invisible. Now you just feel like a piece of meat. You couldn't tell which feeling was worse. You then heard a buzz.

Bestie: What's his name? I swear I can scare the living crap out of him.

You smiled. He did care. You then saw another message.

Bestie: Also watch your language

You giggled.

You: You didn't answer my question

Bestie: Sometimes you just have to be the bigger person. Once they realize who's actually better, you get both their pride and your better life.

Looks like you really did have a friend.

You: Thanks Happy

Bestie: You didn't answer my question

You grinned.

You: Just some guy at school

You: Doesn't matter

You: I feel better now

Bestie: Good

Bestie: And I don't care what you say, Tony's going to be hearing about this.

You: Ugh traitor

It was embarrassing, but it wasn't like Tony would actually do anything. It's not like he'd drop everything and fly out here. He's a busy man, he's got more to worry about than you being bullied.

"Y/n, are you in there?" Peter asked from the other side of the door.

"We came to see if you were okay." Ned chimed in. You got up and went outside, looking at them confused. "I had to convince Peter not to barge in. I think those two girls passing by think we're creeps now."

"Aww you guys looked like peepers for me?" You pulled them in for a group hug. "I'm fine now. Thanks though."

Ned then spoke up again. "Are you still gonna leave us at the party? Cause we totally understand if–"

"If you guys want me to go, I'll go." They both hugged you again.

After school you walked to Delmar's Deli-Grocery. "Hey Del."

"Llegas una hora antes prima. No te pago horas extras." He said, his back turned.

("You're an hour early cousin. I'm not paying you overtime." He said, his back turned.)

"Relax primo, I'm just gonna do some homework in the back before my shift."

As you did, Delmar called for you. "Prima, someone's here to see you."

"Who is it, Peter?" You asked as you walked out. You then saw Tony stare at you with an unreadable face. "Damnit."

"Why does he call you that?"

"What?"

"Primuh– whatever. Why does he call you that?"

"It's a nickname."

"What does it mean?"

"It means cousin."

"So you two are related?"

"No, we're just that close."

"Can I call you that?"

"Can you pronounce it correctly?"

"Ouch."

"So what's up Mr. Stark."

"I thought it was just Tony."

"I don't know. It's a little unprofessional."

"Do we only have a professional friendship?"

"Are we even friends?"

"You tell me. You stole Happy from me apparently."

"Aye, it's like a mom's new boyfriend trying to get her kid's trust." Delmar said in the back.

"Little loud back there Del." You said.

"Happy told me about this kid. Does he mess with you a lot?"

"He messes with Peter more."

"You didn't answer me."

"Yeah, maybe. Is that really why you came out here?"

He furrowed his brows. "Is that hard to believe?"

"Um, yeah?"

"I've seen a ton of bullies as Iron Man, and I take things like this seriously."

You let out a breathy chuckle. "Tony that's war fare and alien stuff. This is just highschool."

"So? I don't take kindly to people who mess with my friends."

You couldn't stop the smile from coming to your face. Did you really just make friends with some important middle aged men? The thought was laughable. "So, will that be all Mr. Stark?"

"You know I don't like that. Stop." You giggled. "You didn't tell Happy what was going on with you this week."

You shrugged. "I guess I'm going to a costume party next Friday. It's gonna be at the ass wipe's house."

"See, I can do something about that. Okay, I got a date with Pep in a few hours so I'll see you and Peter tomorrow."

"Wait what? Why?"

"Um, so you two can get into costume design and later fitting? Whoever that kid is will be jealous of your costume, and you get to wear a cute couple costume with Peter."

"Happy told me I should just be the bigger person." You teased.

"Yeah, and you will be by being the better dressed person." He smiled at you.

"I knew you had a crush on Peter." Delmar said at the counter. You gave him a dirty look. He glanced at his watch. "You're 2 minutes late. Hurry up."

"Alright, that's my cue." Tony said. "Nice clothes by the way."

"Thanks." You said cheerfully. "My friend gave them to me."

"Wow he had good taste. Well, see you tomorrow kid." And with that he left.

You went to the back and caught the apron Delmar harshly threw at you. He gave you an intense stare. "What?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you take a job like this when you're hanging around billionaires?"

"I like this job. And I'm not a gold digger. He's just really persistent and there's no point of arguing."

"I should fire you for arguing with me so much." He called out.

"Keep it up and I'll stop covering some of your shifts."

"Mmh." He rolled his eyes and you contently smiled, starting work.

Later on that night you suited up, going to Peter's apartment and crawling up to his window. You opened it and crawled on the wall, closing the window. You hopped to the floor and pulled off your mask. "Peter, we need to talk. Tony just saw me today and–"

You stared face to face with a panic looking Peter in his boxers and a surprised Ned.

---

Author Note: Just so everybody knows this is my own au where Peter accidentally sent the video of you two to May and had a very interesting phone call with the both of you. I totally forgot to write this and just wrote this message after I posted this chapter. Maybe I'll make a little short of that idk.

---

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#mcu x reader #peter parker mcu #mcu au #marvel mcu #mcu fic #mcu peter parker #marvel peter parker #peter parker marvel #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x superhero!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you

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yetanotherreader · 4 years

Text

Useful—3

Genre: College AU

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N, slight Dean x Lisa

Summary: The school's most popular boy wants to be friends with Y/N, out of the blue. It definitely doesn't have anything to do with her hot best friend, though.

Word Count (For the chapter): 2,712

Warnings (For the chapter): None.

[For some reason, some of the tags aren't working. I'm sorry about that.]

[[ Also I'm sorry for the no Read More thingy because it doesn't happen on the phone app :-(]]

Useful Masterlist

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Mondays.

You dreaded them. For some reason, they were never good. They were sleepy, tiring and grumpy and unfortunately you couldn't do shit about it. You always had to wake up extra early for a hopefully refreshing shower, take the supposed-to-be small bus ride to the uni, which just got longer because of the Monday traffic and run to the lecture hall, only to have the professor glaring at you for coming late to the class.

Mondays.

Today was no different. You woke up extra early, took a hopefully refreshing shower, took the supposed-to-be small bus ride—WHICH was surprisingly not as long as always—and still ran to the lecture hall. Fxckin' tiring mess. The sleepless sleep still showed in your eyes and you would have given anything to have an extra hour for it that morning. But well, same old—Mondays.

And suddenly, today was different.

"Come on…" A group of annoyed whines were heard from the lecture room just as you entered the hallway.

"What's wrong?" You asked a very pissed Rhea, or was she Akira?

"Morning classes got cancelled. We woke up for nothing."

Honestly.. what the fxck was wrong with the university? Mumbling and whining to yourself, you made your way to the cafeteria, maybe some coffee would help. Tried enjoying the warm sunshine on your face, keyword: tried, as you slowed down your steps near the playground. Or maybe you could just sit in the sun and make the most out of your oh-so-lovely Monday morning? Taking a seat in the bleachers, you decided on reading the book you were, at that time, reading.

Just halfway through the chapter— "Good morning, nerd. I see you're doing some fun stuff over here." You sighed, not wanting to get into any kind of argument at that particular time, or day- or life.

"You're back at it, aren't you?" You looked up at the still smirking Dean, dressed in his black and blue football jersey. A sight for sore eyes.

"Back at what?"

"Being a dick?" You looked back at the book still tired, "Look, Winchester, I'm so not in the brightest Monday sunshine mood right now. Don't bother."

"And here I thought we were friends." He sighed feigning sadness as he turned around to make his way back to the other side of the ground.

"You're here for practice?" He turned back to you, grinning adorably, just as you rolled your eyes.

"Yep but it doesn't start until at least a couple hours."

"Why so early here then?"

"Apparently, there's an emergency board meeting that all the HODs need to attend. So, delayed."

"Oh...that is why" You concluded why your classes got cancelled, "God. Don't you just hate it how they don't inform us about anything beforehand." You groaned.

"Not having the best morning?" He chuckled, as you gestured him to take a seat next to you.

"Nah. I'm the happiest I could ever be," You said with a yawn, "Should we go to the cafeteria before I die or we just let me die?"

"You're such a mood," He laughed toothily shaking his head, "Let us."

Sitting in the cafeteria, you sip on your coffee awkwardly trying to ignore the very obvious gazes of the people around you. You couldn't even make out how Dean looked so unfazed by all the attention, or maybe—obviously, he was used to it.

"You know," Dean started, seemingly, figuring out your awkwardness to ease the tension, "You could have just asked me on a date instead."

You chuckled, thankful for some words, "You wish, Winchester."

"Honestly...I don't" He said winning a laugh out of you.

Time flew by quickly, filled with laughter, corny jokes and sassy remarks with you not even realizing that all that attention didn't bother you anymore. Quite honestly, you didn't even realize they were there. To your surprise, you really did enjoy a Monday morning.

"Oh," Dean exclaimed as his phone buzzed, "Totally lost track of time. It was fun, but Y/N, I gotta hurry now. I'm late."

"Well I still have an hour to kill. Good luck with the practice."

"Oh yeah, there's still an hour to the class," Dean said as he hurried, "You wanna come see the game?"

"Oh, no no. I don't understand it. I'll rather read my book here."

"Nerd," he smiled at you, "Alright then, see you in the class."

"Yeah" You smiled back, as he went. Maybe Dean wasn't all that bad after all.

You just started with the chapter, again, that you were rudely interrupted... again.

"Look who's trying to get some attention, there. Whatcha think guys? What does she think of Dean's charity? That he got the hots for her or something?" You flinched at the ear-piercing group of laughter came from the direction.

"Tss. Geez, Cassie, mind toning down that screechi- sweet laugh a lil bit? Kinda trying to concentrate." You gave her a sweet smile and turned back to your work.

"Hey, Y/N. How's you? Long time no see." She came and sat where Dean sat not even a couple minutes ago.

"Was doing just good." You muttered as you kept your eyes in your book.

"You were? Obviously, you were," she started taking ahold of Dean's cup, playing with it, "Y/N, stop trying, darling. Dean is very out of league for you. I'm saying for your good."

"Sweets. You know the only reason I'm replying to you, Cassie, is just because it's rude not to?" You looked up at her at annoyed, managing a sarcastically polite smile, "Now if you could excuse me, I'm kinda in the middle of something.

She stood up rolling her eyes as you spoke up again, "And well, don't worry. I'm no threat. Dean and me, nope. Not happening. Also, stop acting like he's your property. The guy's got a life of his own to live, about time, you get one for yourself too."

Before she could retaliate, you made your way out of the door, leaving her processing what you said. Not gonna say that you had got bad blood with her but you had got bad blood with her. Honestly, you wouldn't give two flying shits about her if she wasn't the one with the brilliant idea of throwing you into the pool on your very first day. And if that wasn't enough, she had the nerve to bully you about it for the next few months too. Initially you ignored for a long time, hoping she would end it herself, but was she one to? When you had enough of her shit, all it took, then, was one punch to the wall and an angry 'next time it won't be the wall' for her to stop. Not that she ever was a trouble for you later, but you were her glare dart ever since. You were kinda looking forward to her passing out of the college— one year without her unnecessary glares and hushed whispers but she just had to get a year back for her last year. Oh, your life.

Practice was tiring, and since they had gotten just one hour for it, they didn't even get any breaks. On top of that, Dean might have sprained his neck. Maybe Y/N's bad day was contagious. Maybe she passed it to him.

Y/N. The thought of her bringing a faint smile on his lips. Damn, she was awesome. He wondered why she kept to herself, her personality sure would get her a lot of friends. That morning, Dean had actually enjoyed himself after a long time. He'd been so lonely for the past few months, he had almost forgotten how to laugh like he did today. She could be an amazing friend. Not to mention, he was still not over how she helped him back at Jo's without even mentioning it once today. Y/N was a good person, he could say that. Mysterious, but nice. He hoped that they actually became really good friends.

His eyes wandered to find her sitting by herself, in a corner as he made his way into the almost empty classroom, "This seat taken?"

She looked up from the book and, for once, smiled, "Hey..yes..no, please sit."

He smiled in return as he sat down beside her, lowly groaning in pain.

"You okay, there?"

"Yeah, I don't know, I think neck strain."

"Oh, geez. Want some help?"

He chuckled humorously, "And what will you do to make it better?"

"Well, they do say I have magic hands." She chuckled in response too, getting up to stand behind him. She started lightly massaging his neck and shoulders, pressing her fingers to his shoulder blades whilst her thumbs worked on his neck. She did the motion a few times as she felt his muscles relax, his knots loosening. He felt himself relaxing, the pain still there but better. How was she always good at whatever she was doing? She stopped her movements abruptly, as he realized a loud moan escaped his lips, only to burst out laughing the next second, "God, Winchester, what the hell?" sounding a little embarrassed.

"S-sorry. Damn it, your fault. What can I say, you do have magic hands." He laughed out, too.

The day went by quite fast after that. They didn't cross paths post the class again. It was the last lecture when Dean met with Cas and Jo. Finally.

"Hey!" Jo chirped as she came after the class, and hugged Dean from behind, Cas copying the action, "Dude?"

"Hey, strangers." Dean said, not in any mood to have a happy-go-lucky conversation with them.

"What's wrong?" Cas asked, clueless. Jo elbowed his ribs gently.

"What's wrong? Nothing." Dean walked ahead, rolling his eyes as the two of them followed him.

"Dean, come on. We're sorry, okay?"

"Well, don't be. Not that it matters anyway." Dean said coming to a stop, "What? You guys didn't go somewhere private, again?"

"Okay, first of all, stop taunting us, jerk. And second of all, we're sorry. We didn't mean to-"

"First of all, don't copy Sammy. And second of all, I called you two how many times, Joanna?"

"What can we do to make it up to you? Jo is right Dean, we're genuinely sorry. We just had a tiring night, so we slept in. Really really tiring." said Cas, blushing a shade of pink, as Dean's lips lifted in a very surprised smile.

"So...you finally, finally did it?" He looked from Cas to Jo grinning, "So you finally did our virgin angel, huh?"

"Shut up" she grumbled, trying to stifle a laugh of her own, blushing a few shades herself, "What about you and the specsy?"

"Who? Y/N? What about us?"

"Don't act innocent, De. Coffee dates and massage and all, huh." She said, cocking her brow, piquing Cas' interest in the conversation too, "Didn't think you'd go for her."

"We're just friends," said Dean, thinking about it from all the angles, "I think."

"You think?"

Dean shrugged, unable to come with a proper answer.

The rest of the day went pretty okay for him. Cas and Jo finally did spend time with him but it wasn't like before at all. They were different and he expected this, as much as he shipped them. They were a couple now, dynamics changed. He wasn't the same for them like earlier, he was the lesser priority. And single.

"So, you're telling me you're single?" You said, surprising yourself with the subtle, unnoticeable relief you felt. Dean and you had bonded pretty well over the past couple of months. You had never thought you two were ever going to be friends, but he was nicer than he made himself look. You learned a few things about him, and about the first day dare too. Oh boi, weren't you just ready to whack his butt with a spoon.

"Yeah. Well, that sounded judgy, Y/N."

You grinned apologetic, "Hee, sorry. It's just it's hard to believe is all."

It was funny how you two became good friends so soon. You were not really one for friends. For a long time, you'd been alone, convincing yourself you liked the quiet. Although you did, it was undeniable how loneliness got to you every time you wanted to talk to someone about something going on in your life, a bad day or even something as normal as your new favorite TV show. It sucked, now that you were admitting to yourself. It sucked how you had no one to talk to. It sucked how you couldn't even complain about it to anyone. And it sucked to spend your weekends alone in your dark room, trying to distract yourself with a book or fanfic, pretending that it was all okay.

And now here you were. Not in a dark room, not alone and not pretending. Here you were actually talking to someone about the random-est things on the planet, laughing with him and actually enjoying yourself. You both still weren't on the we-tell-each-other-everything stage and you highly doubted you ever were going to be but it was still nice. Yeah maybe you hadn't told him shit about yourself yet, but he was still the closest you'd ever been to someone in years. You had Lisa and you cared about her, you did. But where was it written that the person you care about would care about you the same way too? You were never in the list of her priorities, never even close. But she trusted you, and that's why you were...friends? You didn't know exactly. She would come to you after a break up or when she was having a bad day. You had helped her so much, for so many years, it became your instinct to do it. She had friends, she was loved and she had a life you would never. She was Lisa Braeden. She was she, and you were...you. Plain, dull, unattractive Y/N. That's it. That was you in three words. And honestly, you didn't mind. You had come terms with it a long time ago, terms with no one caring about you.

Until two months ago. Dean was a good friend. He was nice, sweet, protective and funny. And most importantly, he...cared. He would tell you jokes on Monday mornings, give you ice pack when your clumsy ass ran into the closed door and invite you for movies with his friends which you always refused to. When Dean realized you didn't like going out with strangers, he invited you over for a movie night to his place. It was, maybe, the sweetest thing someone had ever done for you. He made you snacks and then you guys talked about random things the entire night only to pass out on the couch later. After that, it had become your Friday night tradition.

And with all these sweet things, could you blame yourself for starting to feel something more for him than you should? You, very well, knew this would never happen. Dean had a type, a taste in girls and you were far from that. You had too few/many curves than what looked beautiful, you didn't have the most beautiful hair or skin and you were not pretty. Simple. He would never feel for you. And you, too, only had a silly little crush on him, which would go with time. Right?

You woke up, cuddled with a warm figure on the couch, head under the blanket. You struggled to pop your head out of the covers and once you did, you were met with a beautifully freckled face sleeping soundly. He looked so peaceful that you never wanted to wake him up. Your eyes just briefly glanced at his plump lips, wondering what it would be like to touch them or maybe, feel them against your own? And in a matter of seconds, your eyes were back at the blanket, hiding your little secret you kept from yourself. A secret only your late night or early morning self knew, which you would conveniently deny to yourself later during the day. A secret you would pass off as nothing but your sleepy head's made up story.

Nothing, but a story.

___________

Chapter 4

A/N: Alright, I don't know how it turned out. It took me more than a week for this chapter, and I couldn't even think of anything. I'd write a few sentences and close the document. A writer's block, I think. Well anyway, I didn't have anything in mind so it's mostly a filler chapter which I somehow used to make the little-st progress in the story. Mostly their friendship. I think I'll make it stronger before I do the shit I have planned. Please don't hate me for the chapter coz I already do :')💔

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@bi-danvers0 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @itsjaybro16 @mml232 @blablatiti @stilltoomuchafangirl @bat-shark-repellant @bluebell-24 @shortwinchester @always-money-in-the-banana-stand @soullessbabee @ima-be-a-mongoose

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bettsfic · 5 years

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Hi betts! I've been reading through the stuff you posted about plot/story structure and I have a question. The concept of a cycle (leave the familiar--go through unfamiliar--return to familiar) seems to underlie all of them. How does this work in tragedies where the character doesn't get to return to the familiar in any literal sense? i.e. traveler who never makes it home. Especially in stories that end with the main character's death (thereby eliminating the chance for a return to status quo)?

Is the cyclical structure still present in those types of stories, just less literal (instead of physical places or circumstance, psychological ones)? Or is this an instance where trying to adhere to this structure gets in the way of the story you're trying to tell? I guess more generally thoughts on tragic/unhappy endings?

great question!

before i answer, i’d like to caveat that this explanation is an oversimplification of structure and moreover, extremely prescriptive. whatever you’re writing doesn’t need to follow these conventions, and if you have stories already written that are nothing like this, they’re not bad or wrong.

i use traditional story structure to help me set the pace, center the conflict, and figure out when to raise and lower the stakes, but if it doesn’t suit the story, i scrap it. the most important thing is figuring out what’s best for your story, not how the story best fits into an existing structure. it’s an optional guideline, not a rule.

that said, i’ve been thinking a lot about tragedies lately -- what’s the structural difference between hamlet and game of thrones? why does one succeed but the other fail? how do i get so much catharsis from song of achilles and so little from avengers: endgame?

i firmly believe that if you’re reading a tragedy, you should know it’s a tragedy. i think the deepest cathartic effect on readers happens when they understand that doom is coming, and ready themselves for it. having a protagonist fight for pages upon pages, scenes upon scenes, to root for them endlessly, only to have them fail -- what’s the fucking point? it’s writing without integrity. it’s an authorial power trip. it’s saying “i have the power to make you feel things, and i’m going to hurt you.”

a bad tragedy is one that leaves you feeling empty and hurt, maybe angry. a good tragedy is one that fills you with sadness, the good kind of sadness, the reason we watch or read tragedies at all. sometimes it feels good to be sad, to let stories affect us deeply, to run us through an emotional gamut where day to day life can often leave us complacent.

but as a writer, how do you know if you’re pulling a game of thrones? how do you know if you’re writing a fulfilling tragedy or an empty one?

to answer, i’ve made a (beautiful!!) graph not unlike kurt vonnegut’s shape of a story.

before i explain the graph, i’m going to do a quick run-down of a three-act play, which is the general structure of all films and classic novels.

act i -- first 25% of a story -- here you establish a status quo and upend that status quo somehow, or as you say, familiar and unfamiliar. this is a simplification of a basic conflict. by the end of act i, your protagonist(s) are firmly on a path.

act ii -- middle 50% of story -- (i tend to break act ii up into two parts because it’s so long) i like to think of act ii as a series of checkmarks, all the things that have to happen to reach a culminating point upon which the story rests.

act iii -- final 25% of a story -- at the beginning of act iii is your culminating moment, and at the end is your resolution.

what differentiates a comedy from a tragedy is the way action rises and falls. if you don’t read any other part of my overwrought explanation, read this: the midpoint of a story will likely parallel its ending. if the dead center of a story is sad, the resolution will be sad, and vice versa.

comedy structure (happy ending)

act i -- protagonist is either in a low place or a neutral one, and their status quo is upended. in a comedy, we root for the protagonist. we want them to succeed. the quickest and easiest way to establish this is to find a way to make us trust the protagonist -- a small act of kindness, an inconsequential choice that shows us their true colors. by the end of act i, your protagonist will face a conflict, and we have hope they will succeed.

act ii -- things are looking up! the midway point is a major achievement, a win of some kind. your protagonist has succeeded where they have been struggling. but then! oh no!! a new challenge presents itself, a greater challenge, a bigger bad, and now things are beginning to look bleak.

act iii -- the beginning of act iii will mark the lowest point of the story, a major failure or setback. all is lost. there’s no coming back from this. no way out. but then!! protagonist, against all odds, succeeds! and then the resolution, where we’re either back to the status quo, or find ourselves in a better place than when we started, having grown from the adventure we had.

romances often have happy endings. if you’re writing a romance, the rising and falling action will match the closeness and distance of your two protagonists. the midway point is their initial coming-together, and the beginning of act iii will involve angst.

in an adventure story, the rising and falling action will involve the closeness and distance from the antagonist. the midpoint will be a face-off with something that will lead your protagonist to the big bad. your climax will be a failure at the antagonist’s hand, and your resolution will be the final success.

tragedy structure (sad ending)

act i -- protagonist is either in a high place or a neutral one. their status quo is sitting atop a pedestal of some kind. they have a major hubris which establishes their conflict. at the end of act i, your protagonist will have begun their fall from grace. you can make the reader trust a tragic protagonist the same way you make them trust a happy one -- indicate in some small way their leanings. define their hubris. “trust” does not mean “like.” the major difference between a happy and sad ending in terms of beginning is what the reader wants for the protagonist. in a tragedy, you will likely be rooting for something bad to happen to the protagonist, or you will be readying yourself for a trainwreck.

act ii -- by the middle of the story, your protagonist has reached what they think is rock bottom, but is actually far from it. surely they’ve suffered enough? slowly the pieces are picked up, and things look hopeful to them, but the reader knows otherwise. this will not be pretty.

act iii -- at the beginning of the third act, your protagonist has succeeded where they thought they would fail, and they have returned to their pedestal, or maybe even higher. there is a major sense of relief. everyone can breathe easy. the story is over. but it’s actually not. something happens!! and the protagonist’s hubris finally and fully catches up with him somehow. OR your protagonist has fully redeemed themselves, and their growth is complete, but they still must die in order to prove their own growth.

there is a difference between a tragic hero and a redeemed protagonist. a tragic hero is one who is blind to his hubris and eventually falls prey to it. a redeemed protagonist is one who is made aware of their hubris, works to counteract it, and sacrifices themselves in a final act of redemption.

i cannot emphasize enough: this is a gross oversimplification, and your story does not have to adhere to this in order to be good. likely you will have several protagonists all on different paths and a story much more complicated than this, but generally speaking, this the major difference between happy and sad endings: the middle point mirrors the end point. the rising and falling action is opposed. a tragic protagonist has hubris. a comedic protagonist has hope.

i hope this helps!

writing advice tag | ko-fi

#writing advice #structure #dow19 #that-this-will-do

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inevitable-anna · 5 years

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Escape The Night S4X06 Spoilers.

Hello, it’s ETN time again! I believe this may be my longest reaction post yet! I’m working on my ‘possessed guest’ theory.

Here we go...

[[MORE]]

Oohh The Gorgon and The Collector are having an argument!

Ummm... The Gorgon doesn't turn to stone when she looks at her own reflection?

Holy Musical B@tman! The Minotaur came out of nowhere!

R.I.P random Greek warrior dude. Press f to pay respects!

Still loving the opening credits!

*The Gorgon enters the lounge* My mind: "Here's Gorgie!"

Ahh! No! Don't hurt The Sorceress! Bad Gorgon!

AHHHH! MORTIMER IS TURNING TO STONE! THAT IS NOT GOOD!

ASDFGHJKL! I'm sorry, I know Mortimer is probably dead now, but his statue looks hilarious!

The way The Sorceress was touching the fingertips of Mortimer’s statue, when the guests came back into the lounge. :(

"Oh, baked beans!" I love Ro so much, and I know I say it every time but she's great!

"I will gouge her eyes out for this. Mark my words!" The Sorceress vowed to avenge Mortimer!

"I knew he was a stoner." If Bretman dies I'm gonna be so mad!

Oh, this is the ‘rainiest day’ that Merlin was talking about!

The group used the 'guardian angel' stone!

ATTFSRKDBWORNZWLBEBUANRBFKRBFOWRPGOHEBNGORKD KENNGIIIWBSIA!!!!!

MATPAT AND NIKITA ARE BACK!!! YESSSSS!!

AND RO'S STILL ALIVE SO MATT/RO REUNION!!!

Ro: *sees Mat* "starts screaming"!

Awww! Mat just lifted Ro up and gave her the biggest hug! Yay! They're reunited! This is the one of the things in the series that I was waiting for and I’m so glad it happened!

Wait? Is Mat's hair purple? It looks good.

No one:

Nikita: *shows up*

Colleen: "Nikita's a really sucky guardian angel because last time I was with her, she shoved me into a box of spikes and murdered me."

Me: :|

"We only have a limited amount of time to save as many of you as possible." Oh? Are Mat and Nikita only here for this episode then? :(

Ro: "Did you join a cult?" Mat: "What?" Ro: "I saw the symbol on her, it's on Joey. You got it." Nikita: "We're the Society Against Evil." Mat: "We're here to help. We're the good guys." Ro: *suspicious af face* "This cult is recruiting. I do not trust them." I just found this funny.

But I do agree with Ro. I don't trust the SAE.

I missed Mat. "I mean, Jael and Ryu are kinda weird. Bit quiet. They puke magic. It's kinda disgusting." Lol

Thank goodness for Mat! "Thinking Gorgon, I immediately think of Greek mythology."

Mat and Ro's friendship is everything! Mat: *thinks of possible solution* Ro: "Mat, you smart. You smart." Mat: "Thank you."

Mat doing a victory dance, when his theory is proved to be correct, is brilliant!

Colleen: "The Collector, despite being a real b*tch, happens to have one in her museum." Does Merlin's note actually say the bit about The Collector being a b*tch or did Colleen add that in? Because it's hilarious to think of Merlin writing that!

Joey: "I volunteer not to hold the shield, so." When was the last time you actually volunteered to do something Joey? Because I can't remember! (This is gonna be really stupid if he volunteered an episode or two ago)

Colleen. WE KNOW YOU HOLD A GRUDGE BUT PLEASE STOP BRINGING IT UP EVERY 5 MINUTES!

ALEX! YOU ARE STILL SHADY AS HELL TO ME! EVEY TIME YOU SAY "I need to prove that I'm on your side" IT JUST SEEMS MORE SUSPICIOUS!!

Joey: "The Gorgon's lair is gorgeous." Camera: *shows The Gorgon's lair, which is covered in fog and statues that are actually deceased people* Me: 'If Joey thinks this is gorgeous, I'd hate to see what he thinks is ugly.'

Please let Alex get turned to stone!🤞🏻 Please let Alex get turned to stone!🤞🏻Please let Alex get turned to stone!🤞🏻

Bretman: "Alex tries to look at her through the mirror and Miss Gorgon was like, 'B*tch, you dumb.'" Bretman is still great.

Alex: *gets captured by Minotaur after failing to turn The Gorgon to stone* Bretman: "Why are the cute monsters never grabbing me?" Me: "... Wha?"

I love how whenever the group gets a note and someone reads it out, you can see Ro trying to remember it and figure it out in the background.

Ok, three riddles to open the three gates of the maze. The answer to each riddle will be an object inside the maze. This sounds cool, I love riddles! I’m not great at them but I like them.

Nikita: "Shut up and just look cute. I'm gonna save your ass."

First riddle: "I have a head a tail but no body." No body but it has a head and tail?

Ohh! It's a coin. Good thinking Nikita! And Nikita got captured!

Now we're with team Mat.

Oh so they have to find what each statue was missing and return it to said statue.

Okay, The Sorceress was helping Ro hide from The Gorgon was awesome and now I want The Sorceress and Ro to be friends!

(Photo credit to @sun-shine-lolli-pops)

Okay, back to the team Nikita.

Second riddle: "Feed me and I live. Give me a drink and I'll die." EEK! I know this one! It's fire, the answer is fire!

Nikita: "A candle. Look for something with fire." Alex: "Don't listen to her." And Alex keeps trying to convince everyone that he's not bad?

Grapes? Okay, now Bretman has used the lighter!

Okay, the second gate has been opened. One more to go!

Bretman has been captured as well.

Now it's Joey's turn! Third riddle: "When you need me you throw me away. When you are done with me you bring me back." Hmm?

Wait! On the table is an anchor! It's the anchor! It's the anchor, Joey!

Third and final gate complete! And Joey didn’t get caught.

Uh oh... Joey has to vote for himself or vote for either Nikita, Bretman or Alex and Joey will get immunity.

Back to team Mat.

Good thinking with the empty pedestals, Ro!

I love how Ro takes the high pedestal and has to, literally, climb on top of it because she's so tiny, while Mat and Colleen have the short pedestal and just have to step onto it.

Ro yelling "Team Cinnamon Roll" is everything! #TeamCinnamonRoll

Colleen: "Mat and I have to stand on the one that says, "Kiss of the jewelled lover." Matt's married and has a kid. I'm married and have a kid. So that ain't happening. So he's gonna get a big ol' kiss on the cheek."

Colleen: "Are we doing this?" Matt: "Give me a kiss, lover!" The way that Matt says that is hilarious!

Mat: "Are you the new Calliope? Are you the one who's shuffling the cards?"

Sorceress: "I'm The Sorceress."

Ro: "She's pretty cool, Matt."

Mat: "Yeah?"

Ro: "Yeah, she's really helpful."

Colleen: "Snake lady freaks me out."

Matt: "Didn't Joey say that she killed him?" That whole interaction was brilliant.

Phew, Joey voted for himself. Which makes my earlier dig about him not volunteering look stupid now.

Ro asks Alex if he wants to go in and he said yes!

WHAT? Who the heck voted for Colleen?

ASDFGHJKL! Bretman: "Miss Colleen, prove yourself, Duchess." It was Bretman!

Alex is going in too!

Alex: "What? Rosanna! I didn't know what I was saying earlier. I was just cold." Ro: "You told me to vote for you!" Anyone getting S1X06 Matt vibes here? When he said he'd do the exorcism and then tried to back out?

Oh this is an interesting challenge! The ‘guardian angels’ Mat and Nikita has to traverse the maze and find the parts of a puzzle, while Alex and Colleen have to assemble the puzzle pieces to make the Parthenon.

Nikita crawls under the legs of the Minotaur! That is gutsy!

Colleen is almost done!

NIKITA! WHAT THE FLIPPETY FLAPPITY FUCK?!?!?

I'm sorry for my language there but what the hell, Nikita?

Nikita has cheated at this challenge and the last person to cheat was Destorm and he automatically forfeited his life as punishment. I feel like Alex should lose now. (I’m not saying this because I dislike Alex, I’m saying because Nikita cheated and I think there should be a punishment.)

No! Where's Matt gone?

Thank goodness! Matt is still alive! He’s just outside the museum.

R.I.P Colleen Ballinger.

First death- stabbed to death inside of the iron ‘maiden of madness’.

Second death- “ripped to pieces” by the Minotaur.

I used to like Nikita... not anymore!

Yesesss! Kill The Gorgon! When Alex tells the Minotaur to stay in the maze, the Minotaur stomps of like a child being sent to their room.

Nikita: "I seem to be doing pretty well for my first mission as a Society Against Evil girl." Nikita: *cheats at challenge, which gets Colleen killed*

Ro: "Alex and Nikita return to the lounge. Which means Matpat and Colleen did not make it." She thinks Mat is dead and she looks so sad! Someone hug Ro! Please?!

Ro: "There's this fire that's starting inside of me that's just starting to ignite, and I'm just... I hate these monsters." #LetRoBeABadass2K19

A lamp? Does this mean that the genie/djnn looking person from the trailer is next?

"Wishes are not free." Well, that's ominous.

And that’s my reaction post for S4X06 done!

And as I thought about the end of this episode, I thought that, apart from Nikita, Rosanna is the only girl left in the group. If Nikita only stays for one more episode then Ro will definitely be the only girl left and that should guarantee that she is one of this seasons survivors! Until I thought that Colleen is seen in the pirates episode, which means she may be revived, which will probably be bad for Ro as they probably won’t have 2 female survivors (Although Ro is is the pirate episode as well). Excluding S2, The survivors are always Joey, a boy and a girl, so it’s unlikely that it would be 2 girls and Joey to win this season unless they decide to change that. But who knows?

Quick question, who do you want to win this season?

Hope you like this post! :)

Have a lovely day!

#escape the night spoilers #escape the night all stars #escape the night 4 #escape the night #etn #etn spoilers #etn season 4 #etn4 #etn all stars

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margseliserobbie · 3 years

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[text]: You're very welcome! I was craving it and can't have it so I figured you could enjoy it for the both of us. 😊 Does Sebastian love it as much as we do?

[text]: That's so fun! My sister and her family lived with me for eight months while their home was being renovated. It was so nice having them close, especially the babies. The house felt so empty when they moved out but luckily I've been too busy traveling to really notice. You should tell him to move here! Now that you have a family of your own, I'm sure you wouldn't want him living with you but there are plenty of amazing apartments for rent. My old condo that I now use as an office space still has a bedroom in it. He's welcome to stay there for as long as he needs!

[text]: It's true and just because we don't talk about it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I've found that it's a lose-lose situation. You talk about certain things like insecurities and endometriosis to come off as relatable and people get upset that you're 'complaining', but if you don't talk about them then people get upset that you're hiding things. It's why I've stopped caring about what I post. Even the most innocent thing will upset someone and you can't live your life worrying about the opinions of strangers. That's the right way to do it though, and I'm sure you don't look at it with the intent to lose weight. A lot of people eat healthy and exercise because it makes them feel good, and that's the mentality I've tried to adopt. When I eat well and work out a few times a week I feel so strong. Losing weight is just a bonus, and it doesn't happen as often as you'd think. My weight will stay the same but making healthy choices makes my abs really pop and it looks like I've dropped pounds. Having a little one also helps. You're constantly running after him!

[text]: It was so special! Now he can put all of the photos and memorabilia back out on display. 😂 He's not at all old but he's toward the end of his career and I think it's so brave of him to be selective and want to play for a team that has a chance at winning versus settling for a not-so-great team who's willing to pay him. It's a testament not only to his innate competitive nature but also to his character. Thank you! I know he appreciates it! It all depends on where he ends up. Being in the Boston area was great because it was so close to NYC and my family. Miami wasn't bad either since I had a lot of shoots down there. If he ends up in a place like Minnesota or Detroit? It's hard to say. Of course I'd want to be there and would visit any chance that I got but I don't know how realistic it is to be there full time.

[text]: it's like you have ESPN or something ;) he does! he said he doesn't want to know anyone who doesn't like McDonalds, or something along those lines! but his one true fast food love is Shake Shack!

[text]: awe, you probably felt like an empty nest after that! but that's so fun you were able to do that and have them all under one roof! I think Cam will certainly make the move some day. he loves acting and modeling, so I think the end goal is to come to the States and try his hand here. he just started on Neighbours this past year so I think he'll be there for a bit before he comes over. that's so sweet of you! thank you for the offer! we wouldn't mind Cam staying with us..I think he'd be sad if he was in LA and not under the same roof as Axe at first, haha.

[text]: I think it's amazing you're so open about endometriosis. so many women struggle with it and I hear it can be so painful and affect everyday life. people who see it as complaining must be truly blessed in their lives to interpret it that way, and not as raising awareness. I'm glad you stopped caring and don't pay them any mind. people like that just want to be miserable and find flaws everywhere. they're the ones who are truly unhappy to resort to such negativity. yeah, I never intended to lose the weight but I know I have the unhealthy habit of working myself to the bone and that sometimes means stressing myself so much to losing my appetite. I try not to allow that to happen, especially knowing I have Axe to look after and to not form unhealthy habits. I gained a bit of it back at the end of last year.. well, I lost the weight so quickly after Axe early last year and lost a little too much then put some back on. it's all about being healthy over anything, you're right. that's what's important!

[text]: haha your dad is a proud fan! I love it. while I'm more of a NY (and Saints) sports fan, I certainly share the "devoted fan" thing with him.. for me, it's obviously the Rangers that I'm SO passionate about. at least with Minnesota you'll get the nice snow falls! which I bet you get in Boston area as well but I hear Minnesota winters are on another level! I think it's very admirable he's so selective, wanting to find the right fit. I told him feel free to pick the Saints or Giants ;) hahah

#text:olivia #tw: long reply #tw: long post

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turtle-paced · 7 years

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2) also what are your thoughts on book sansa and arya relationship? I've read some absurd posts about Sansa apparently abusing Arya or that she doesn't love her at all. And i really wanted to know your opinion Thank you!

Sansa and Arya didn’t understand each other, were often frustrated with each other, and lived in an environment that portrayed Sansa as the ideal Arya should be working for and Arya’s preferences as improper. They spent a great deal of AGoT very angry with each other, and in a hostile situation with frankly inadequate adult supervision.

They love each other, too.

One of the very first things we learn about the relationship between the sisters is that the issue of proper ladylike behaviour is a sticking point - not helped by Septa Mordane.

“Sansa’s work is as pretty asshe is,” Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. “She has such fine, delicate hands.” WhenLady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed. “Arya has the hands of a blacksmith.”

- Arya I, AGoT

Arya, who’s still a child after all, finds it much easier to resent Sansa than to think “hang on, this authority figure is bad at her job,” or that the system that values Sansa’s appearance and skills to the point where Arya cannot freely express her own talents and preferences might be a bad construct. We see that clearly with this passage:

[Sansa] smiled for the septa. “Arya and I wereremarking on how pleased we were to have the princess with us today,” she said.

Septa Mordane nodded. “Indeed. A great honor for us all.” Princess Myrcella smileduncertainly at the compliment. “Arya, why aren’t you at work?” the septa asked. She rose to herfeet, starched skirts rustling as she started across the room. “Let me see your stitches.”

Arya wanted to scream. It was just like Sansa to go and attract the septa’s attention. “Here,” shesaid, surrendering up her work.

The septa examined the fabric. “Arya, Arya, Arya,” she said. “This will not do. This will not doat all.”

- Arya I, AGoT

Arya’s the one who attracted Septa Mordane’s attention by speaking “far too loudly” a few lines previously. But Arya blames Sansa, because she doesn’t have the intellectual tools she needs to realise and express to the reader that this entire situation, public humiliation and all, is Septa Mordane’s doing. Nobody’s stopping Septa Mordane from going over to Arya and quietly helping Arya correct her own work without making any sort of fuss in front of Arya’s sister and the visiting princess, after all.

In the meantime, Sansa was definitely trying to cover for Arya’s faux pas, and not anything malicious. See this from the opening of Sansa’s own PoV chapter:

The septa was not appeased. “You’re a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to thatcreature you’re as willful as your sister Arya.” She scowled. “And where is Arya this morning?”

“She wasn’t hungry,” Sansa said, knowing full well that her sister had probably stolen down to the kitchen hours ago and wheedled a breakfast out of some cook’s boy.

- Sansa I, AGoT

Sansa doesn’t understand why Arya does this or even wants to do this, but she’s still covering for her little sister with Septa Mordane, unasked.

The inability to critique the system goes both ways. It’s more obvious with Sansa, who’s good at the things her society says she should be good at, and who hasn’t yet found a personal reason to start questioning the authorities around her.

Sansa regarded her scrawny little sister in disbelief. “You can’t look for rubies, the princess isexpecting us. The queen invited us both.”

“I don’t care,” Arya said. “The wheelhouse doesn’t even have windows, you can’t see a thing.”

“What could you want to see?” Sansa said, annoyed. She had been thrilled by the invitation,and her stupid sister was going to ruin everything, just as she’d feared.

- Sansa I, AGoT

The situation is more serious than it might appear from this very childish spat. Sansa’s going to meet with a powerful woman who might be her mother-in-law one day. Said powerful woman asked for Sansa and Arya. Arya declining the invitation for no more reason than she’d rather go riding, thanks, is one of those things that’s not on in this situation. If Arya doesn’t show up, Sansa’s on the spot.

(It’s also a situation where Ned should be paying more attention to his daughters and exacting a bit more discipline.)

And also because neither of them are in a position to start criticising the system and the people above them, it’s hard for them to come to grips with what happened at the Ruby Ford with Joffrey and Mycah, and the fallout. Sansa can’t bring herself to criticise her prince, much less in public; Arya doesn’t understand Sansa’s position vis-a-vis Joffrey (or that Joffrey had been getting Sansa drunk). Arya, to her credit, immediately sticks up for Lady. But even then it’s easier for them to blame each other than it is to blame Cersei and Joffrey, who had to see Arya punished, a direwolf dead, and Mycah murdered.

Arya’s friend and Sansa’s pet were killed over Joffrey’s cruelty. It’s worth being angry about. Which is what we see both sisters experience throughout AGoT.

Ned does help Arya get through it better.

“Grieve for your friend, but neverblame yourself. You did not kill the butcher’s boy. That murder lies at the Hound’s door, himand the cruel woman he serves.”

“I hate them,” Arya confided, red-faced, sniffling. “The Hound and the queen and the king andPrince Joffrey. I hate all of them. Joffrey lied, it wasn’t the way he said. I hate Sansa too. She didremember, she just lied so Joffrey would like her.”

“We all lie,” her father said. “Or did you truly think I’d believe that Nymeria ran off?”

- Arya II, AGoT

The show clarified it even further, spelling out the situation Sansa’s in due to her betrothal to Joffrey. Then Ned gives her a big damn monologue.

“Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow,the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we mustprotect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. So if you must hate, Arya, hate those who would truly do us harm. Septa Mordane is a good woman, and Sansa… Sansa is yoursister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through bothyour hearts. You need her, as she needs you… and I need both of you, gods help me.”

He sounded so tired that it made Arya sad. “I don’t hate Sansa,” she told him. “Not truly.” Itwas only half a lie.

“I do not mean to frighten you, but neither will I lie to you. We have come to a dark dangerousplace, child. This is not Winterfell. We have enemies who mean us ill. We cannot fight a waramong ourselves. This willfulness of yours, the running off, the angry words, the disobedience…at home, these were only the summer games of a child. Here and now, with winter soon upon us,that is a different matter. It is time to begin growing up.”

- Arya II, AGoT

Then he makes sure Arya has an outlet for her frustrations and her passions by finding her Syrio Forel. This was an important speech, and that and the sword lessons help Arya immensely. As early as Arya III, we see this:

Quickly [Arya] lowered her head and dropped to oneknee. Maybe [Myrcella and Tommen] wouldn’t recognize her. If they did, she would never hear the end of it. SeptaMordane would be mortified, and Sansa would never speak to her again from the shame.

And that would be bad. See also here, her reaction after she threw an orange at Sansa for repeating the Joffrey-approved narrative of what happened at Darry.

Arya raised her eyes. “I’m sorry, Father. I was wrong and I beg my sweet sister’s forgiveness.”

Sansa was so startled that for a moment she was speechless. Finally she found her voice. “What about my dress?”

“Maybe… I could wash it,” Arya said doubtfully.

“Washing won’t do any good,” Sansa said. “Not if you scrubbed all day and all night. The silk is ruined.”

“Then I’ll… make you a new one,” Arya said.

- Sansa III, AGoT

“It won’t be so bad, Sansa,” Arya said. “We’re going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure,and then we’ll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest.” She touchedher on the arm.

- Sansa III, AGoT

Improvement!

Ned does not explain things to Sansa as he does to Arya, not so much as “the fault lies with Cersei and Joffrey.” So while Arya’s attitude markedly improves with this explanation, Sansa’s stuck.

At first she thought she hated him for what they’d done to Lady,but after Sansa had wept her eyes dry, she told herself that it had not been Joffrey’s doing, nottruly. The queen had done it; she was the one to hate, her and Arya. Nothing bad would havehappened except for Arya.

- Sansa II, AGoT

She’s desperately trying to fulfil expectations, with almost no idea why her efforts aren’t paying off with Joffrey’s love. Sandor calls her on it.

Sandor Clegane stopped suddenly in the middle of a dark and empty field. She had no choice but to stop beside him. “Some septa trained you well. You’re like one of those birds from theSummer Isles, aren’t you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words theytaught you to recite.”

- Sansa II, AGoT

Her immaturity, specifically the way in which she refuses to look beyond surfaces, and the lack of proper explanation has resulted in Sansa not understanding the nature what’s really going on in King’s Landing. Which results in her continuing to blame her sister for Lady’s death, and various unkind, uncharitable thoughts.

The kitchen yielded no lemon cakes, but they did find half of a cold strawberry pie, and thatwas almost as good. They ate it on the tower steps, giggling and gossiping and sharing secrets,and Sansa went to bed that night feeling almost as wicked as Arya.

- Sansa III, AGoT

No two ways to slice it here, this just plain isn’t nice. It’s a notable feature of Sansa III of AGoT, Sansa acting like a spoilt brat. (Not that she’s the only Stark child to behave that way.)

“Go ahead, call me all the names you want,” Sansa said airily. “You won’t dare when I’m married to Joffrey. You’ll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace.” She shrieked as Aryaflung the orange across the table. It caught her in the middle of the forehead with a wet squishand plopped down into her lap.

“You have juice on your face, Your Grace,” Arya said.

It was running down her nose and stinging her eyes. Sansa wiped it away with a napkin. Whenshe saw what the fruit in her lap had done to her beautiful ivory silk dress, she shrieked again.“You’re horrible,” she screamed at her sister. “They should have killed you instead of Lady!”

She forgets about Arya almost entirely during Sansa IV, AGoT.

It was not until later that night, as she was drifting off to sleep, that Sansa realised she hadforgotten to ask about her sister.

Note, however, that this is these are the final words of the chapter. This is not a pleasant realisation for Sansa. This is meant to be disquieting.

And at the end, near last, came the names Sansa had been dreading. Lady Catelyn Stark. RobbStark. Brandon Stark, Rickon Stark, Arya Stark. Sansa stifled a gasp. Arya. They wanted Arya topresent herself and swear an oath… it must mean her sister had fled on the galley, she must besafe at Winterfell by now…

- Sansa V, AGoT

So we know that between the end of Sansa IV and the start of Sansa V, Sansa did think about where her sister might be. Arya was in her thoughts.

Everything changes with Ned’s execution. Both girls are present for this, though Sansa doesn’t know it. It is a notable feature of Arya’s narration throughout that she doesn’t see what happens, she hears it. And a lot of what she hears is Sansa screaming and crying.

Afterwards, it’s apparent that no, seriously, even if they didn’t understand each other and they didn’t get along very well, Sansa and Arya love each other.

Arya never looked back. She wished theRush would rise and wash the whole city away, Flea Bottom and the Red Keep and the GreatSept and everything, and everyone too, especially Prince Joffrey and his mother. But she knew itwouldn’t, and anyhow Sansa was still in the city and would wash away too. When sheremembered that, Arya decided to wish for Winterfell instead.

- Arya I, ACoK

Arya hates King’s Landing that much…but not so much she can wish Sansa dead. Thinking of Sansa makes her sad in Arya II, ACoK.

When she thought of seeing Robb’s face again Arya had to biteher lip. And I want to see Jon too, and Bran and Rickon, and Mother. Even Sansa… I’ll kiss herand beg her pardons like a proper lady, she’ll like that.

- Arya VII, ACoK

It also comes out more strongly that as frustrating and incomprehensible as Arya finds Sansa’s interests, Arya respects and admires her sister’s skills, both with heraldry and history (Arya VII, ACoK) and with music (Arya IV, ASoS).

When news comes out that Sansa’s gone missing as well, it hurts Arya a lot.

If Sansa was gone too, there were no more Starks but her.

- Arya XIII, ASoS

Because when she thinks of her family, Sansa is most definitely a part of it.

She had been Arry and Weasel too, and Squab and Salty, Nan the cupbearer, a greymouse, a sheep, the ghost of Harrenhal… but not for true, not in her heart of hearts. In there shewas Arya of Winterfell, the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn, who had once hadbrothers named Robb and Bran and Rickon, a sister named Sansa, a direwolf called Nymeria, ahalf brother named Jon Snow.

- Arya II, AFFC

Winterfell, she might have said. I smell snow and smoke and pine needles. I smell the stables. Ismell Hodor laughing, and Jon and Robb battling in the yard, and Sansa singing about some stupid lady fair. I smell the crypts where the stone kings sit, I smell hot bread baking, I smell thegodswood. I smell my wolf, I smell her fur, almost as if she were still beside me.

- Arya II, AFFC

On Sansa’s part, it is very much a feature of her coping mechanisms that she Doesn’t Think About Things, and she believes Arya is dead. Nevertheless, we do see that Sansa doesn’t forget about her sister again.

She sang formercy, for the living and the dead alike, for Bran and Rickon and Robb, for her sister Arya andher bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall. She sang for her mother and her father, forher grandfather Lord Hoster and her uncle Edmure Tully, for her friend Jeyne Poole, for olddrunken King Robert, for Septa Mordane and Ser Dontos and Jory Cassel and Maester Luwin,for all the brave knights and soldiers who would die today, and for the children and the wiveswho would mourn them, and finally, toward the end, she even sang for Tyrion the Imp and forthe Hound. He is no true knight but he saved me all the same, she told the Mother.

- Sansa V, ACoK

In Sansa’s dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya.

- Sansa II, ASoS

She awoke all at once, every nerve atingle. For a moment she did not remember where she was. She had dreamt that she was little, still sharing a bedchamber with her sister Arya. But it was her maid she heard tossing in sleep, not her sister, and this was not Winterfell, but the Eyrie.

- Sansa VII, ASoS

She remembered a summer’s snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning. They’d each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she’d had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she’d slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn’t, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.

- Sansa VII, ASoS

There’s nothing to call these memories but happy and fond.

As we see Arya appreciating Sansa’s skills, we see from time to time Sansa approving of Arya’s earlier actions. This is a memory she comes back to more than once.

[Joffrey had] owned a sword named Lion’s Tooth once, Sansa remembered. Arya had taken it from him and thrown it in a river. I hope Stannis does the same with this one.

- Sansa V, ACoK

That said, in many ways Arya remains incomprehensible to Sansa as well. When she meets Margaery, we get this:

Sister. Sansa had once dreamt of having a sister like Margaery; beautiful and gentle, with all the world’s graces at her command. Arya had been entirely unsatisfactory as sisters went. How can I let my sister marry Joffrey? she thought, and suddenly her eyes were full of tears.

- Sansa II, ASoS

But from the phrasing, I suspect that Sansa couldn’t let Arya marry Joffrey either. Unsatisfactory or not.

Her belief that Arya’s dead hurts Sansa as much as Arya’s belief that Sansa is dead hurts Arya.

I must be brave. Her torments would soon be ended, one way or the other. If Lady was here, I would not be afraid. Lady was dead, though; Robb, Bran, Rickon, Arya, her father, her mother, even Septa Mordane. All of them are dead but me. She was alone in the world now.

- Sansa IV, ASoS

So yes. No matter how different they are, no matter that their storylines in AGoT are in large part devoted to the worst they’ve ever got along and the angriest they’ve ever been with each other, no matter that the patriarchy and their education values Sansa’s skills more than Arya’s skills and this affects how they think of each other, this is still a loving relationship. Just not a particularly easy one, for either of them. When they reunite, I’m betting that their childish differences don’t look half so insurmountable as they did in AGoT.

#asoiaf #cw: violence #sansa stark #arya stark #a game of thrones #a clash of kings #a storm of swords #a feast for crows #asks

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themaninflannel · 7 years

Text

Angst day fic

Summary: Dean finds a case and takes Sam to go and fight it, but doesn’t tell his friend Y/N. she takes matters into her own hands to find the man she loves.

Characters: dean x reader, Sam x Eileen, Platonic!reader x Eileen, Cas

Warnings: lots of swearing and drinking, torture(not very graphic), canon-typical violence

word count: ~4k

A/N: hey guys! this is my contribution to angst day! i dont know how i feel about it so feedback would be much apreiciated! also its my first fic thats over 2k words yay me!

I had fucked up. I knew it. He knew it. Hell, even Sam knew it.

I don’t know what made me say it. It wasn’t a new thought to me, I had always known, but what possessed me to say the actual words to him (and in such a way??) was beyond me.

When those words left my mouth i knew i had forever changed what we had.

Dean Winchester had found a prophecy and of course like the idiot I knew him to be he went and tried to handle the whole thing on his own. Needless to say, he landed us all in a pretty shitty situation. We had angels after us, not really what ya want on what was supposed to be a chill week post-apocalypse (but who were we kidding that wasn’t gonna happen).

Dean came rushing into the bunker at God knows what hour in the fucking morning shouting about the warding, waking Sam and I from our semi-peaceful slumbers.

“Fuck! FUCK! Where is the goddamn holy oil when you need it!” He said to himself as he tore apart our store rooms.

“Ok, Dean. What the hell is happening? Why the hell are you freaking out?” I sleepily scolded when I walked into the room.

“Angels.” Was the only response I got.

“Well, yeah, I kinda assumed with the holy oil and all,” I snapped.

“Its-there was a-I fucked up,” He finally admitted.

“What did you do?” Asked Sam from his spot in the doorway.

“Prophecy. Pissed some angels off,” He explained in half-sentences while still frantically searching. If whatever he did scared even him we were in big trouble.

“That’s helpful.” Sam snarked as he walked out of the room.

“Ok, look, D. Whatever it is we can figure it out,” I said softly, kneeling next to him.

“Not this time.” I had never heard him sound so defeated.

“Dea- Dean! will you stop and listen to me? Come on, of course, we’ll fight this. No matter what.” I knelt down and grabbed his shoulders making him look at me.

“No. This is my war. You and Sam need to stay away.” I fell back on my heels and threw my arms up.

“Holy shit, I am in love with an idiot! you really think that Sam and i will let you go off on your own and get yourself killed??” I had said it before I even realized. It just slipped out.

“I’m sorry? You’re what?!” He sounded shocked. I mean, he had a reason to be, we had only ever been friends. I mean it’s not every day your best friend say something like I did.

“It doesn't matter, what matters is that we’re not leaving you to do this on your own.” With that, I stood up and tried to walk out of the room with as much dignity as i could. “I’m going to bed, we’ll deal with the angels in the morning,” I called over my shoulder before I left earshot.

I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling, my head just playing that conversation over and over until I finally fell asleep. I can’t believe I actually said that to him. And what the hell are we gonna do about the angels? And why are they pissed in the first place? Oh, tomorrow is gonna be just fantastic.

I woke up around noon the next day dreading what was gonna happen when I saw Dean. When I finally got the balls to get up and go downstairs I threw on my favorite flannel and began my hunt for caffeine.

“Who drank all the goddamn coffee?!” I shouted out of the kitchen. When no one answered I went to go see what was up. I looked around the entire bunker and didn’t find them. I pulled out my phone and instinctually started to put in Deans number before stopping myself knowing that wasn’t something I wanted to deal with yet. Instead, I called Sam. And got his viocemail.

“Hey? Umm.. I don’t know where you guys went but please call me back soon. If you’re hunting/running from something you better tell me where the hell you are so I can come and save your sorry asses.” I paused and took a breath, “And if you idiots are dealing with our angel issue without me I’m going to kill you. Like, you will need Chuck to put you back together after I’m done with you. Call me back.” I slammed the phone down on the war room table. “Fuck!”

I spent the rest of the day fuming that they left me and doing all of the things they didn’t like me doing. I left all the dishes in the sink, I revved all the engines in the garage, I rearranged the books in the library- in the proper way i might add- and just generally screwed around. I finally crashed on the couch at like 2 am. I woke up the next morning expecting to have a call from one of the boys but my phone screen was still ominously empty.

Two days later I still hadn’t heard anything from them despite calling and calling and I was starting to get really worried, so I did the only think I could think of: I called in reinforcements.

“Cas? Yeah, hi its Y/N, I was just calling to see if you’ve heard from the boys at all in the last few days?…..You haven’t? Ok, thanks…..Yeah, I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything…Thanks again, bye Cas,” Next I tried Eileen.

“Hey Eileen, have you heard from Sam at all in the last few days?” I signed through my webcam.

“No, what’s up? Is he ok?” she asked.

“No idea, a few days ago I woke up and they were both gone and they’re not answering any of my calls.”

“I’m like a state away if you want me to swing by and help you look for them?” I must look as worried as I feel for her to offer.

“That would be great, and you know there’s always a bed for you here.” After hanging up with Eileen I felt a little better, at least I wasn’t on my own with this anymore. The next step was to track their phones, if they haven’t turned them off already that is.

When Eileen got there we indulged in true Winchester fashion and got really fucking drunk. Don’t get me wrong, we were doing our best but coming up empty. Therefore, booze. Once we were good and wasted we got to talking, in a way that only two people that share the same worries can.

“I just don’t want them….Dean…to have gone into this without a plan. Or back up! And I- I can’t leave things with us they way they were. I don’t know why I did it but,” I started to talk really fast and skimp a little on my signing, “I need him to talk to me again,”

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. I can’t follow when you talk that fast.” She reminded me before continuing, ”But I’m sure they will be ok. They’re smart. Whatever it is, they can handle it.”

“Yeah sure, yours is smart. Dean? he’s reckless.”

“What do you mean ‘mine’?” She sat up so she could see my hands better.

“Ya know? Sam. Don’t you guys have something going on?” I questioned. I could tell Sam had a thing for her and now I just had to find out if it was reciprocated. If I couldn’t have my Winchester, the least I could do was help a friend get hers.

“What? No. I mean…he’s tall and strong.. and smart..and kind..but no! We’re just friends. He wouldn’t want to hook up with the Deaf girl anyway,” She sounded sad.

“Bull. why do you think I can sign? He made me study with him every night so he could learn your language and make sure you never felt left out. And you liiike him! You so do!” I scooched closer to her so we could really talk.

“Really? But why…?”

“Because he is head over heels, girl!”

“Fuck. We gotta find those dumb asses.”

“No shit. But why the new energy?”

“So that I can climb that mountain,” That made me laugh, “and you can work out your issues with Dean.” She finished as she got up and started to walk away.

“Wait! Hold up! Where are you going?” I called after her before remembering that that wouldn’t do any good cause she couldn’t hear me. So I just followed her to the kitchen.

“Coffee?” She asked searching cabinets.

“Pantry. Why are you making coffee?”

“So that we can sober up and keep searching for our boys.” She said matter of factly.

“Our boys?” I questioned.

“Yeah. I’m not the only one who has a Winchester’s heart.” She turned to me.

“No.” I shook my head, “You should have seen his face when I said I loved him. That was not the face of someone who felt the same.”

“I think that’s bullshit. You were literally wearing his flannel when you called me. You are the only other person he lets drive the Impala. You guys are aggressively domestic. I don’t know why he made that face but he definitely has feelings for you too. We’ll just have to figure it out when we find them.”

“Any ideas? So far, I’m thinking we should call Cas, see if he can find them.”

“Sounds good to me,” She said before chugging her coffee and shouting for Cas.

“Yes?” Cas said as he appeared behind me making me jump, I may be a badass hunter but I don’t have nerves of steel.

“We need you to look for the boys. We tracking their phones but it didn’t work,” I explained.

“Ok let me see if I can sense them,” He stood there with his eyes closed for a minute before speaking again, “I can’t feel them they must be warded from me.”

“Makes sense, Dean said he was having angel trouble before they left, Crap!” We all did as much research as we could on special angel types and kelp asking Cas about things that could piss of the angels.

“Wait!” I exclaimed pulling my head out from my book, “A few months back I borrowed Dean’s car to go on a solo hunt and they found me, Dean put a tracker on the Impala. If I can find the tracker I can find them. If its still on the car anyway.” I excitedly pulled out my laptop and started typing away.

Almost an hour passed before I triumphantly slammed my computer shut.

“I did it! I know where the car is!” We all got up to go get our stuff together and Eileen pulled me into a hug.

“Thank you. I knew you could do it,” She whispered into my hair.

“Let’s go get our boys!” I signed once she pulled away and could see my hands again.

“Our boys, huh? Finally coming around to my way of thought?” She teased.

“Shut up, go get your crap together we gotta go.” I jokingly shoved her away.

Cas had said he couldn’t get involved with the angels but to call him if someone really needed healing so, for now, it was just the two of us. We loaded our shit into the back of the fastest car in the garage and sped off on our hunt for the men we loved.

About a million miles later we finally got to the place they were supposed to be. I slowed the car as we passed what looked like an abandoned motel, I pulled the car into the parking lot searching for that familiar black beauty of a car. We finally found the car but not its owners.

Once we checked in the office and found out that it was indeed abandoned we went and checked its entry log.

“Agent Halen and Agent Nicks. That’s them,” i said confidently.

“how do you know?” Eileen asked.

“I know them.”

We snuck over to the room, guns at the ready. After knocking on the door and getting no response Eileen kicked down the door. What we saw in the room is not what we were expecting. Both of the boys were gone, but it didn’t look like there had been a struggle. I poked my head into the bathroom and found a very knocked out person laying in the tub. I waved Eileen over and we dragged the man into a chair and made sure he wasn’t going anywhere before we threw cold water on his face and slapped him so he would wake up.

“Who are you?” I questioned when he was conscious again.

“Who I am is of no importance. What I am is what you should worry about, girl,”

“Oh joy. Another smartass creature who thinks he’s better just cause he’s a guy.” I silently signed to Eileen. “Ok. I’ll bite. What are ya?” I said to the man.

“Oh darlin’, I’m an angel. I’m everything you’ve ever wished for-” his voice got all syrupy sweet

“Don’t try it.” I cut him off “I recognize angel hypnosis when I hear it. This isn’t my first rodeo. Now, you are going to tell me what happened to the Winchesters. And if you cooperate I might just make your death as painless as I can.” I threatened, pulling an angel blade from its sheath on my thigh.

“I don’t know where your boyfriend is. I was busy being knocked out when they were taken.” He was clearly lying, angels don’t get knocked out. Meaning he wanted to be found.

“Who took them, “ Eileen asked.

“Now, why would I tell you that? And miss all the fun when you realize you’re too late! They’re probably dead by now anyway,” I sliced his cheek with the blade allowing the light to break through his skin.

“Tell us who has them or I will make this as painful and slow as I can. Now I’m no Alistair but I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” I leaned in real close and spit in his face.

“Doesn’t matter anyway. By now your boys are dead and the angels have exactly what they need,”

“And what, pray tell, might that be?” Eileen questioned.

“You girls really don’t know anything, do you? Oh, it’s not any fun this way. Fine. The hot-blooded gentlemen you so desire were being held in the penthouse apartment of the one nice building in this hick ville.”

“Thank you, we appreciate your cooperation,” I said before I stabbed him in the face.

“God, he was a dick, but at least now we know where to start,” Eileen said.

We got back into the car and drove around until we found the place we were looking for. the one fancy building in the whole town. we grabbed all the guns we could carry and a few extra angle blades in case the boys lost theirs and went in.

We went in the back entrance not knowing who or what might be in the lobby, we got to the stairs before anyone noticed our presence, by the time they had caught up to us we had already gotten half way up to the penthouse.

I felt something grab at my ankle and kicked, hard, sending myself off balance. Eileen and I fought as hard as we could to get away from the angels but we were no match for the six angels that had found us. They took us and dragged us up to where the boys were being kept, on the way up they took all of our weapons, or at least they thought they did they missed the blade I hid in my cleavage. We were blindfolded when they took us and tied us to the ceiling.

When the blindfolds were taken off I could see that we were in what appeared to be the love suite, complete with heart-shaped bed. I looked around, I was one of six victims, the boys were down the line a little ways but they looked to be alive.

“Who are you, ladies? And why have you come?” A woman in what looked to be a hookers outfit approached us.

“You have something of ours.” Eileen spat.

“And we’re here to take it back, bitch,” I shouted. I saw sams head perk at the sound of Eileen’s voice and smiled a little knowing they would be happy if we could get through this.

“What the hell are you smiling at?” The woman asked me, grabbing my face.

“I just know that we are gonna get out. Ya know why? Because we have a motivation you clearly don’t understand. Pure human love. And also you don’t know how to tie a knot!” I pulled my arm down and punched her in the jaw. I pulled out the angel blade I had hidden and killed her. I cut everyone down before the rest of the angels came in.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean asked when he took off his blindfold.

“Saving your ass apparently. Now help me kill the rest of these douches,” I answered, not looking at him.

Between the four of us, we managed to kill all the angels and save the civilians. As I slid the blade out of the last I looked over at Eileen. She marched right over to Sam and pulled him down into a kiss. He wrapped his huge arms and kissed her back with everything he had. I was very proud of Eileen. This did, however, leave the car arrangements up in the air and somehow it was decided that I would ride with Dean and Eileen would drive my car with Sam. Great. An 8-hour drive with Dean. That’s gonna be real fun.

The first few hours of the drive were silent save for Deans cassette tapes. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ya know, normal people say thank you when someone saves them from getting killed by psychopathic angels,” I snapped at him over the music. He turned it down but didn’t say anything for a minute.

“Is that coming from a hunter or someone that’s in love with me?”

“Let’s forget I said that ok? For now, let’s just be happy you forgot to turn off the tracker on Baby,” I said. I wasn’t ready to deal with the feelings part, not while he still seemed so pissed. I was just so relieved that he was ok.

“Is that how you found us? And why was Eileen there?”

“You didn’t answer your phone for days, I called her to see if she had heard from Sam, needless to say, she hadn’t and so she decided to come and help me find yall,” the rest of the car ride was done in silence. When we got back to the bunker we split and went our separate ways, I went up and crashed, I didn’t pay attention to where Dean went.

In the morning I went down to the kitchen for coffee like normal and was met with everyone talking about the night before.

“Hey, anyone wanna fill me in?” I asked with a mug held at my chest, when I started talking Dean walked out of the room.

“Dean found a prophecy about the end of the world and the angels were after it, they were a doomsday cult-like branch-”

“So like extra douchy,” Eileen cut same off. I was happy to see them being cute and cuddly.

“Exactly, well anyway, they wanted the prophecy but we had it…so…yeah,”

“Good thing they’re all dead now,” I commented as I walked out of the room.

The day went on as normal, or as normal as it could be with Dean blatantly ignoring me or walking out every time we were in the same room. That went on for days before I decided I needed to get out of my head.

“Hey, Eileen. Wanna go shoot at the range downstairs? I need to not think for a little while,” She and I went down and had target practice for a while and it really did help. Finally, I was done and headed back to my room. But on my way, Sam grabbed my arm and dragged me to one of the spare rooms. When he opened the door a very frustrated looking Dean was standing there.

“What the hell is this, man?” Dean asked.

“Putting you two together in the car didn’t work so now we’re putting you I here until you figure your shit out. I’m don’t watching you guys be weird,” Sam said closing the door after him. I groaned when I heard the lock click into place as it shut and I knew we were stuck.

“Why are you upset at this? You get the good end of the deal.” Dean was being such an ass lately.

“Since when do you have an issue with people being attracted to you?” I snapped back at him. I didn’t feel like feeling with his bs attitude anymore.

“Why would you be attracted to me. Why would you joke about it? You said it yourself; I’m an ass, I’m an idiot, I’m reckless. What’s so appealing about that?” He seemed genuinely upset.

“You think it was all a joke? Yeah, I told my best friend that I was in love with him cause I thought it would be soo funny to make things weird between us. Haha. fucking hilarious.”

“You’re a nice girl, you could do so much better than me. You know that. So why would you go for me?” He sounded almost defeated.

“Some things you don’t get to choose. You didn’t choose to be raised into the hunter’s life. I didn’t choose to have feelings for my friend. Some things are out of our control.” While I was taking I was slowly walking toward him.

“It would have been better if I hadn’t been born into this. So many people would still be alive.” He turned his back on me but not before I saw his emerald eyes start to swim.

“So many more people would be dead if you hadn’t been there to save their lives. To stop the apocalypse. To kill Hitler. You are a hero. And that’s what I fell in love with. Because even when you make stupid decisions it’s because you care so much. You are a good man. And that’s what I fell for.” I put my hand on his shoulder and slowly walked around him so that I was standing in front of him with one hand on his chest and the other wiping away his tears.

“Do you really love me?” He asked. His voice so low I almost couldn’t hear him. I nodded in response.

“Every piece,” I answered in the same quiet voice. He closed the small distance between us and pulled me into a tight hug, wrapped in is arms.

“Thank God,” he said into the top of my head. His voice still low and gravely from emotion.

I could tell that I was where I belonged. And I would stay there as long as he needed me to.

#supernatural angst day #angst #dean x reader #sam x eileen #reader insert #dean winchester angst #dean winchester #dean imagine #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatual angst #supernatual imagine

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