#listen no one is more surprised than me that this is a thing i have written

[luveline]

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 

“Did you call them?” 

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 

“We really don’t have time to waste.” 

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!” 

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 

“No,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 

“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 

“Don’t know,” you mumble. 

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I understand.” 

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[just-jordie-things]

clean little secret - itadori yuji

word count: 7.4k warnings: none! summary: yuji and (y/n) are keeping a secret from the others... yuji loves to be pampered by her. more info: tooth rotting fluff, crushing, friends to lovers

for stef <3 ___

Itadori Yuji wasn’t one for keeping secrets.  For one, he believed they often caused more harm than good.  So unless it was a surprise party, he had no interest in them.  Even if Nobara swore it was a particularly juicy piece of information, Yuji had no problem covering his ears with his hands and walking in the other direction.  And for two, well, he just wasn’t that great at keeping them, and after a few accidental slips, he’d decided to keep himself secret free.

Of course, the dirty little secret he had of his own didn’t count.  But it wasn’t like any harm could come of it… he was pretty sure… so long as (y/l/n) (y/n) didn’t let it slip either.

“So whaddya say?” Nobara’s unusually chipper voice drew Itadori back to the present conversation with the tell-tale hum of a boy that hadn’t listened to a thing she’d said.

Megumi briefly rolls his eyes, (y/n) lets out a short giggle that she quickly stifles behind her hand, and Nobara places her hands on her hips as she turns towards the pink haired sorcerer with a frown.

“Do you want to go see that movie tonight or not?” She asks him pointedly, as if she hadn’t spent the last few minutes coming up with a whole plan for picking up snacks and sneaking them into the theater.

“Oh!” Realization dawns on Yuji in the form of a bright grin, but Nobara’s hope is quickly deflated when he shakes his head.  “No, I can’t, sorry” 

Before the redhead could strangle him for getting her hopes up with his stupid smile, Megumi’s backing out too, and her attention is quickly swiveled towards (y/n), who had suspiciously kept her expression behind her hand.

“Sorry, Nobara,” She lowers her hand to reveal her frown.  “I can’t tonight either.  But maybe this weekend?” She tries to compromise, but it appears Nobara was already defeated by the sting of a triple rejection.

“Fine, whatever, this weekend,” She mumbles, hoping a pouty lip would be the final straw to convince her friends.  When no one moves, her expression returns to its usual resting bitch face and she turns to leave.  “But if the groupchat is as dead as your energy later, then I’m going with Maki instead!” She hollers.

That was close, Yuji thought to himself as the group dispersed and he hurriedly made his way down the hall.  Luckily this time, Nobara didn’t shake him down to interrogate him into telling her what better things he could have to do for the evening.  God, that could’ve gotten embarrassing.

After a quick stop by his dorm to change out of his uniform, Yuji made sure the halls were clear before he booked it across the building, moving as fast as he could while keeping his steps as quiet as possible, before he slid to a stop in front of her door.

With two quick but rhythmic knocks, her door slid open, and (y/n) peeked out, eyeing both directions of the hall around Yuji to make sure no one was around to see her let him in.

“You’re sure no one followed you?” She whispers, finally meeting his eyes.

Yuji shook his head confidently.  Her lips broke into a grin so wide that the corners of her eyes crinkled.

“Well then get in here already!” She says with hushed excitement, grabbing him by the front of his tee shirt and pulling him inside, closing the door behind him in one swift movement.

Yuji seats himself at the end of her bed while she grabs her phone off her desk, scrolling through an abundance of spotify playlists before settling on just the right one.

“I’m so glad we’re finally doing this” She tells him, effectively turning his cheeks pink.

“Yeah, me too” He agrees, hoping his nerves aren’t too obvious in his voice.

“I’ve been dying to show you what I just got for christmas” She adds, practically skipping into the bathroom to retrieve a decently sized plastic basket full of products Yuji can’t even recognize.  She has to carry it over to him with both hands, and he knows he should probably be intimidated by what they’re about to do, but he doesn’t.

As (y/n) drags him into her tiny bathroom to set up the array of items, she lists off each one as she shows him.  Hydrating mask, lip mask, eyelash serum, somehow it all sounds relaxing and terrifying all at once, but he trusts her, so he nods along to each one.  She seems delighted enough just to show off her little collection of products, so Yuji’s determined to match her excitement.

Truthfully, Yuji had never touched anything like this.  Sometimes he moisturized his hands when they got dry in the colder seasons, but he wouldn’t say he knew a thing about skincare.  And yet, one afternoon while walking with (y/n) from one class to another, he found himself getting carried away telling her how he was trying to take better care of himself and he wanted to establish a proper skincare routine.  Before he knew it he was agreeing to being pampered by her- on the condition that it remained secret.

Now remember, one of Yuji’s very few rules of life included the simple act of not keeping secrets.  But that day he’d agreed to her condition without a moment of hesitation.  He could understand why she didn’t want the others knowing that she was going to give him special treatment, seeing as Nobara had been begging to give everyone makeovers since she’d arrived at Jujutsu Technical College.

While he’s not disappointed in his plan for the afternoon, Yuji does feel incredibly out of place in her bathroom.  The dorms were small enough, and the bathrooms barely had room for one person to move around comfortably.  But (y/n) doesn’t seem crowded at all as she rummages through the couple of drawers next to him.

With a grin she retrieves what she’d been looking for- two fluffy headbands held proudly in her hand.

“I got one for you too,” She tells him, bashfully avoiding his eyes as she extends one out to him.  “You’ll want to keep your hair back, the mask can get really sticky” 

Yuji examines the soft baby pink material as if he’d never seen a headband before.  He’s pretty sure he knows how to use it, but just in case, he watches as (y/n) slides hers on first.  It’s not until he sees the ears on top that he checks his again, delighting in the matching cat ears before he pulls it around his neck and puts it on.

“Thanks!” He beams at both of their reflections in her mirror.  He wishes he could take a picture of them, just to have a picture of the two of them wearing the matching accessory, but he knows he can’t risk the others seeing, so for now he settles on memorizing the image.

“You’re welcome,” (y/n) bites the inside of her cheek to keep her grin from getting too goofy, and quickly redirects their attention to the first item on the agenda.  “You’ve really never done a face mask before?” 

“Nope,” Yuji shakes his head, leaning into the counter as he waits for her direction.  “Is it going to hurt?” 

“No!” (y/n) giggles, before beckoning him to hold his hand out as she uncapped the product.  “It’ll feel nice, here, put a little on,” She instructs, squeezing a dollop of green onto his fingers.  She laughs again at his reaction to the color, but he doesn’t question her as he right away rubs it onto his nose.

He had the right idea, but from the way he messily spread it over the bridge of his nose, she could tell he was going to struggle with the application.

“No no, you’re getting it everywh- oh my god don’t put it in your nose!” She squeals as she smacks his hand away, quickly stepping into his space and taking over.

Honestly, Yuji wasn’t trying to get her to do it for him, but as soon as she gently grabs his jaw in one hand while the other is carefully swiping the excess cream off of the tip of his nose, he decides right then and there to surrender.

“I didn’t know, I’ve never done it” He whines, a bit more dramatically than necessary.

“It shows,” She laughs quietly before reaching for the product again to pump more onto her own fingers.  “I can just do it for you, if you want?” She offers.

Yuji smiles and nods gratefully, his heart doing a victory dance in his chest.

“Only if you don’t mind” He tells her, already sitting himself down on her toilet seat so she didn’t have to reach up to his face.  (y/n) fights the urge to roll her eyes at his swiftness in letting her take over.

“I don’t mind,” She shrugs, getting to work applying a generous amount of lime green mask to his cheeks first.  “It’s relaxing to me, actually” 

“Really?” 

“Mhm,” She nodded along, focused on keeping the application even.  “I would’ve loved having a sibling or a cousin or something to do this stuff with,” She tells him.  “I know Nobara would… but… she’s so intense about it sometimes,” She admits, and Yuji hums in agreement.  Nobara was the most passionate person he’d ever met, and it was her greatest strength, but it did freak him out from time to time.  “Not like us” 

The murmured comment sits on his mind longer than it should have.  Not like us, she’d said, filling his insides with the fuzzy, familiar feeling of having something with her that the others didn’t.  This was all his, and she’d said so herself.  They couldn’t possibly understand them the way they understood each other.  

Not like us.  Not like us.  Not like us.

Yuji closes his eyes when her careful fingers spread the mask up the bridge of his nose before she gets started on covering his forehead.

“You do this stuff all the time though?” He asks when there’s too long of pause since he’d last heard her voice.

Not that he could forget what it sounded like, no never, most of Yuji’s day was spent waiting for her to speak, just so he could listen.  Whether she was arguing with Gojo about a ridiculous lesson plan or going on about a conspiracy theory just to get their lunch table riled up, if (y/n) was talking, Yuji had his mouth shut and his ears wide open.  He liked hearing the things she had to say, he liked the way she said them.

And he was learning now that he especially liked when he was the only one she was speaking to, and that if she was standing close, her voice came out in soft murmurs, cautious of the short space between them, and gentle on his ears as it barely echoed off the ceramic tiled walls.

“Maybe not all the time,” She hums thoughtfully.  “But I do it when I can, I try to keep up with it anyways” 

“Well it feels really nice” Yuji mumbled, almost getting sleepy as he grew used to the feeling of her warm fingers spreading the cooling cream on his skin.  (y/n) giggles again, breathy and amused as she watches his shoulders droop downwards.

“Don’t fall asleep on the toilet, Yuji,” She scolds him, but it’s hardly threatening when it’s between strings of giggles as he lazily opens his eyes to look at her.  “You’ll make a mess if you fall and hit your head on the counter” 

“I’d clean it up” He mumbles back in defeat.

“What if you were concussed?” 

“... I’d clean it up later” 

She laughs at his antics just as she’s making her final touches near his temple, spreading the green cream just so, making sure none of it would get stuck to his eyebrow.  With an affirmative nod of her head she steps back to assess her work.  

As sticky, creamy, and unfamiliar as the mask feels, Yuji’s currently grateful that it’s there to cover the way his face heats up under her direct gaze.  He’s always thought that she’s had the softest eyes- doe-like, and sweet, and easy to gaze into- but with every ounce of her attention directly on his face, Yuji starts to sweat a little bit.

His intentions of becoming closer friends through a night of pampering was starting to backfire, and instead the little crush he’d been hiding was now festering.  Bubbling and smoking just under the thinly veiled surface of his restraint.

“You’re all set,” She beams at him, which he easily returns.  “Try not to touch it while I do mine, okay? It’s gotta sit for a while” 

Yuji drops his hand just as he’s about to swipe off a generous streak of cream from his cheek, smiling innocently as (y/n) gives him a warning look before she turns towards her mirror to apply her own mask.

“Serious question, if I eat it, while I throw up?” 

(y/n) pauses mid-smear on her cheek, turning back to Yuji and sweeping her eyes over him to assess if he was actually serious about eating face cream.  He did know it wasn’t guacamole… right? She didn’t need to tell him that… right?

“If you eat it, I’ll be plucking your eyebrows after mine” She settles on a friendly threat.  

Yuji’s lips pinch and she gets back to work on her mask, certain she’d done the trick to keep him sitting still.

“Well that sounds horrifying,” He mumbles.  “But I’m in” 

(y/n) scoffs out of amusement, still focused on her reflection.

“You want me to pluck your eyebrows?” 

“If you’re doing it, then sure,” Yuji shrugs, not thinking twice about agreeing to it.  “It wouldn’t be a complete spa night otherwise” He adds with a grin that she can see from the corner of her eye.

“Well, if you really want…” She mumbles, doubling down her focus on applying her mask.

A part of her had been hoping he wasn’t agreeing to all this pampering just to please her, she hoped he wasn’t dreading the night going forward.  But if he hated it… he wouldn’t be signing himself up for eyebrow plucking… right?

It only takes a few more minutes for her to complete her own mask- she was much faster at applying it to her own face, Yuji noticed.

He also noticed that somehow, she made a face of lime green paste look good.  Which just wasn’t fair.

When Yuji tries to pinpoint when exactly these feelings for her began, his mind becomes a blurry haze of every moment he’s ever shared with her- and honestly, it could have sparked from any one of them.  It tricks him into thinking maybe he’d just… always had feelings for her.

It’s easy being around her, Yuji finds- even though sometimes she leans close enough to show him a video on her phone and it nearly sends him into cardiac arrest- there’s nothing but ease and relaxation in his muscles when she’s around him.  He doesn’t worry about saying the wrong thing- even if she giggles and shakes her head at some of his questions- he basks in her delight until it becomes his own.

Twenty minutes flies by when they’re laughing at memes or talking about the last week of training, and soon they’re scrubbing off the green mask that feels a little crustier than it had when they put it in.

Yuji groans into the bottom of the sink for the ump-teenth time as he scrubs viciously at a part of his jaw where the hardened cream refused to wash off.  (y/n) can’t help but stifle a laugh into the warm washcloth she’s using to pat her face dry, but she can’t leave him hanging, so she politely taps his shoulder to get the boy to give up on washing it off with his hands.

“Let me help” She offers, shoulders still shaking just slightly with her amusement.  

Yuji pouts with frustration when he stands up from the sink, water dripping down his face and all over his shirt, it really is a miracle he didn’t manage to clean up the last of the mask seeing as he got water everywhere in his attempts.

The pout melts away as soon as (y/n’s) stepping closer and gently wiping her washcloth against the resilient speck of green, making it look easy as it glides away under the soft cloth.  She gets it right away, but the tips of her fingers on her free hand still hover over his chin, ready to stabilize his head if he would’ve required another, rougher swipe of the cloth.

“Did ya get it?” Yuji asks hesitantly, unable to read the expression on her face.

But she’s smiling and stepping back in a moment’s notice.

“Yep!” There’s a short, tight sounding laugh that follows.  It’s not like her usual laughter, it sticks out like a sore thumb for someone as attentive as Yuji to pick up on, and he does, but he doesn’t say anything.  “Here, I have a dry washcloth for you” She’s quick to hand him the towel, and even quicker to stop him when he roughly drags the fabric over his face.

Yuji doesn’t catch half the things she’s saying when she snatches the pink cloth from his hands and tells him to sit his ass down before he destroys his pores.  He doesn’t think twice before jokingly asking her what pores are, which sends her on another lecture.  It’s hard to focus on what she’s explaining when she’s so delicately patting his face and neck dry of every last waterdrop.  He’s too busy fighting the urge to close his eyes and melt under the featherlight touch of her palm against his shoulder to give too much of a crap about pores.

Surprisingly, he’s never fallen asleep on the toilet before, but he thinks he could if he sat here and let her pamper him all night.

“... Yuji? Did you hear anything I just said?” 

It takes a few blinks for his vision to focus on her again- her brow is raised and her hands are on her hips now, she’d definitely caught him zoning out.  He hopes playing dumb does the trick.

“Of course,” He nods confidently.  “Pores swell when they’re wet and that’s bad” 

She giggles and rolls her eyes, so he knows his educated guess wasn’t as educated as he thought, but if he got her to laugh he’d take the slight tinge of embarrassment for the greater good of bringing her joy.

God, it was like every minute spent with her only left him craving more.

“Sure,” She drawls out the word in disbelief, but she doesn’t scold him for not paying attention.  It would prove to be too difficult when he’s looking at her with the brightest eyes she’s ever seen.  She would’ve believed he was hanging onto every word had he not opened his mouth.  “So, what next?” 

Yuji peeks at the remaining tubes and bottles on the counter.  He has no clue what he’s looking at of course, and this is obvious when his helpless expression turns back towards her.  To make it easier, (y/n) scoops up two smaller bottles, offering them both for him to choose from.

“Which is which?” He asks, hooking his finger under his chin as he studies each product with skeptical eyes.

“One is for your eyelashes, and the other is for your lips,” (y/n) explains, tilting each towards him as she does.  “We can do both, or neither, up to you” 

“Will it hurt if it gets in my eyes?” He asks, eyes noticeably widened, and she chuckles as she shakes her head.

“Not at all, it’s super easy,” She assures.  “I can show you, if you want?” 

Yuji nods, and that’s how he finds himself standing just a few inches away from her as she leans into the mirror with the small applicator brush in her fingers.  She could remind him that she’s using the mirror for a reason, and he didn’t need to stand so close… but honestly, he smelled nice, and she wasn’t uncomfortable with his close proximity.  In fact, it was actually sort of comforting.

“See?” She hums, brushing the applicator through her lashes over one eye a couple times to make sure all of the serum was evenly spread, before leaning back from the mirror and turning towards him.  “Super easy.  Like mascara” 

“I’ve never told anyone this… but…” Yuji lets out a heavy sigh, and her brows pinch together as she awaits his confession.  “... I’ve never worn mascara” 

“Yuji,” She whines with a roll of her eyes, letting out her own sigh, although hers was filled with humored frustration.  “Shut up,” She finishes weakly when he’s grinning at his own jest.  “Here, do you want to try?” 

“Alright” He takes the tube out of her hand and experimentally pulls the applicator out.  

His curiosity is almost adorable as he holds it close to study it, even though there’s not much to see.  It’s just a little blue bruh with a clear liquid coated over it.  This stuff really makes your lashes grow? He looks back to (y/n), studying her just as closely, until her face starts to turn rosy and she’s looking at him expectantly.  He supposes her eyelashes do look long and pretty… but didn’t they always look like that? Could this stuff really be so good it manages to make an angel like her look prettier?

She has to clear her throat to relieve the nervous tension settling over her the longer he stares at her like this.

“Uh- um, Yuji?” 

“Yeah?” His response seems genuine enough, and (y/n’s) eyes flicker between his and the eyelash serum.  “Oh!” And just as genuine as before, he realizes that her prompts are because he’s been standing and staring for too long.  “My bad,” He apologizes sheepishly, before scooting close to her, the brush extended towards the eye that she hadn’t applied the magic pretty serum to yet.

When she realizes what he’s about to do, her eyes widen and she finds herself grabbing his wrist to halt him on instinct.

“Wait, what are you-?” 

“I thought you wanted me to do the other one?” He answers her question before she could even finish asking it, and she blinks wildly at him.  Had she not been clear? “Do you not want me to?” Yuji asks, already lowering his hand.

“No, it’s- I don’t…” Her head is shaking as she tries to find a way to explain that she’d offered him the product for himself, but she’s backtracking rather quickly as she slowly loosens her hold before pulling her hand away altogether.  “You… you can, if you want” 

She tells him quietly.  It feels like a silly thing to ask him to do, especially when she’s just demonstrated how to use the product moments prior, but now that the offer was on the table, she also wasn’t interested in turning it down.

“Okay,” His smile softens as he tilts the brush towards her face again.  “I promise not to poke your eye out” 

With a giggle she has to focus to keep her gaze tilted up at the ceiling so he can follow through on his promise.  It’s more difficult than she’s ever thought before, keeping her eyes wide open and focused on anything but the boy in front of her.  Yuji takes great care in steadily swiping the brush up through her lashes, working slowly from the outside in.  With how long it takes him, her eye should be watering, but somehow it stays dry, and she doesn’t blink over the applicator.

“You do this every day?” Yuji mumbled, re-steadying the small brush in his fingers as he got closer to the inner part of her eye.  

(y/n) hardly manages a soft hum of affirmation.  She can feel his free hand ghosting under her jaw, as though to keep her in position, however her head is perfectly still and his hold is unnecessary.  Still, his palm waits there.  She’s never felt such a buzz of nervous energy from a lack of a touch.

Yuji finishes up with a smile before popping the brush back into the tube.  He looks like he wants to say something, so she finds herself waiting in silence while she blinks until her eyes feel normal again, but that winds them both up in a minute of no words being exchanged.

This time, it’s not uncomfortable.

“Your turn?” (y/n) offers softly, reaching for the serum in his hand.  Yuji nods, lets her take it, and blinks his eyes excessively to make sure he wouldn’t feel the need to while she was doing her thing.  “You should sit again” She prompts with a gentle push to his shoulder.  It was too awkward of a reach, and would be much easier if he lowered as much of his height as possible.

“Right” He mumbles, backing up to sit down on the toilet seat once more.  He does his best to keep his eyes focused upwards, and wide open, to make it as easy as possible for her.  But what he isn’t expecting is to feel her knees pressing against his as she gets closer, and on instinct he spreads his legs a little wider so she could easily slide into the space.  

He has to keep his grip on his own knees, pressing his fingers into the material of his pants to keep from reaching out to her.  The urge to hold onto her waist- the back of her thighs- pull her closer- is so strong that he gulps.

“Are you nervous having someone get this close to your eyes?” (y/n) mumbles, noticing the shift in his energy.  Yuji swallows again before speaking.

“No- no, it’s alright, go ahead” His voice is as gentle as it is sure, so (y/n) nods back at him, and makes sure the brush is coated with a decent amount of serum before she gets to work.

He knows he’s supposed to keep his gaze upwards, but with her standing so close, leaning in so close, it was hard to keep his eyes from shifting away from the boring tiled ceiling to the much more intriguing sight before him.

“Stay still,” (y/n) murmurs under her breath.  She’s so damn close to him he can feel her cool breath against his cheek.  He manages to follow the instruction for a few more seconds, but soon enough the tips of her fingers are pressed under his chin and she’s clicking her tongue in reprimand.

His own fingers flex against his knees, his grip tightening, much like the invisible force around his heart.

Yuji wishes he could close his eyes until it was over, but that would be counterproductive.  That said, (y/n) finishes one eye quicker than he had done for her, and she’s sliding a little to the right in order to do the other one.

“You think Sukuna would like a little special treatment, too?” She teases quietly, her thumb affectionately swiping over the marking under his eye.  Yuji barely gets to revel in the feeling before the mark is opening up and a vermillion eye is glaring up at her.

“Try it brat and you won’t have hands to do your silly little makeovers” 

She giggles at the threat.  Sukuna may have intimidated her in the past, but it’s hard to feel fear while doing some self care.  Yuji still rolls his eyes and smacks his hand against his own face as punishment.  Unfortunately it’s not only a punishment for the curse living inside of him, and he winces a bit from the harsh smack.

“I’ll take that as a no thank you” (y/n) hums as she finishes up with his other eye, smiling faintly at her work before stepping back.  Yuji gives her a sheepish smile, before batting his eyelashes theatrically.  It does the trick in getting her to laugh.

“Well he’s missing out,” He says, the implication behind the surface level of his words making him bashful, and he finds himself averting his gaze.  “I feel prettier already” 

It draws another laugh out of her, sharp and surprised, and she continues to giggle behind smiling, sealed lips as she carefully slides the lash serum back into it’s perfect spot in her organizer.

If she were braver, it would’ve been easy to tell him that he didn’t need any sort of serums or masks to be pretty.  But just the thought makes her face feel warm, and she has a feeling that even if she tried to say such a thing, she’d butcher the words with a stutter.

So instead, she uncaps the small set of tweezers in her organizer, and turns her focus to the bathroom mirror in order to get to work on her eyebrows.  Yuji watches curiously as she begins to pluck tiny, near invisible hairs off of her face, all without a twitch or flinch.

She’s so focused on working with her reflection that he’s able to stare at her as freely as he wants, and it only takes a minute or two for him to get lost in a sea of mushy thoughts that get his heartbeat going.  Before he knows it he’s practically melting.

“You still want me to do yours?” 

“Hm?” His eyes shift around a bit before they land on hers, already watching him, waiting for a proper answer.  

“Your eyebrows,” (y/n) clarifies, raising the tweezers and pinching them for emphasis.  “I’m done.  So, if you still wanted, I can do yours” 

“Oh, right, yeah,” He breaks into a smile that’s so characteristically him it’s hard not to smile back.  “Is it going to hurt?” 

“It really shouldn’t,” She chuckles, considering he’s gone through worse pain than a little tweezing would provide.  Losing a hand comes to mind, but she doesn’t voice it.  “But I can stop if it becomes too uncomfortable” 

Yuji nods in understanding, and straightens up his posture, ready to brave through whatever this eyebrow plucking would bring.  He squares his jaw, clenches his fists, and prepares himself for the worst.  (y/n) presses her lips together tightly to keep her laughter from spilling out, but the stifled giggle is still audible.

“C’mon, this is a bad angle for me to do this,” She beckons him to follow her out of the small bathroom, trying to ignore how cutely he wore the expression of confusion.

Maybe it was the forced proximity getting to her head, but it was starting to feel like the little crush she’d been harboring for her friend was becoming too much to bear.  She was a jujutsu sorcerer damnit, she shouldn’t be reduced to fits of blushing and giggling she was stronger than that, wasn’t she? 

“Alrighty” Yuji follows her into the larger space of her bedroom without a second thought.

Maybe it wasn’t a question of her strength, but his.  (y/n) wondered to herself what it was about the sheer delight that overcame her whenever he was around that seemed unavoidable.  Was it her feelings for him that made her insides feel weak, or was it simply Itadori Yuji himself that was so delightful she couldn’t help the way she felt and behaved?

Or maybe she was trying too hard to find a way to excuse the butterflies only he could release in her tummy.

She’s careful with the tweezers in her hand as she climbs onto her bed, sliding into the very middle of it before patting the space in front of her to invite Yuji to do the same.

Now, Yuji wasn’t some kind of private, conservative guy.  He’d been in beds other than his own.  Megumi’s and Nobara’s had been made available to him countless times.  Whether it was a study session or a movie night, he never felt uncomfortable when being allowed into someone else’s bed.  Hell, he often made himself right at home in their sheets.  He even got a smack on the head from Nobara once for getting too cuddly with one of her plushies! 

So why now did he feel some reluctance in following (y/n’s) silent command?

“You’re allowed in the bed, Yuji,” As if reading her thoughts, she provides some comfort with the offer.  There’s even a little smile on her face, as if she wanted to tease him for hesitating.  “Trust me, it’ll be way more comfortable to do this here than keeping you sat on the toilet” 

It seems to do the trick, because he sets his knee on the mattress as he crawls on, and sits criss-cross directly in front of her.  It’s the first time he’s been in her bed, he realizes, so maybe that would explain his nerves.

(y/n’s) got a skeptical look on her face, her eyes wandering over his face as she maneuvers around, trying to find the right way to bend her legs, until eventually she huffs and turns to grab one of her pillows from the headboard.

“Just lay down, I’ll do ‘em that way,” She decides, placing the pillow just in front of her criss-crossed legs.  She gives it a pat the same way she’d patted the bed, prompting him to rest his head.  “It’d be easier than destroying my posture” She explains.

Yuji nodded his head, and started to turn around so he could lay back, but his movements are agonizingly slow.  He’s still unsure about being in her space, it seems, but she’s not sure how else to make him feel comfortable.  So when he finally lays his head down on her pillow and looks up at her, awaiting further instruction, she smiles comfortingly.

“Alright, just relax your face, I’ll try not to take too long,”

Yuji shuts his eyes and lets out a small breath, trying to do his best to relax as she’d asked him.  But it’s hard when she leans in closer and the sweet smell of her shampoo invaded his nose.  The tip of her finger merely grazes over his left eyebrow, but the sensation is electric.  He has to fight the shiver that nearly shoots down his spine.

“And just tell me if it stings too much” She adds in a murmur, before he feels the first pluck of the tweezers.

“I think I can thug it out, (y/n),” He teases, once he’s actually felt the sensation of the plucking and realizes it’s not that bad at all.  “I’m tough, you know”

(y/n) giggles, quiet and sweet, as she continues on with her work.  She shapes the top of his brow with no complaint or lag.  He figures she must be pretty used to doing this, if she’s able to speed right through the process.

“Oh yeah,” She hums, cautious of her volume when her face is hovering right over his.  She’s appreciative that Yuji’s kept his eyes closed for this process, because she doesn’t think she could bear having him staring up at her when she’s this close.  “The toughest” She finishes in a whisper.

Yuji’s shoulders shake when he chuckles, and she pauses with the tweezer for a moment when his brows move along with his smile.

“Are you patronizing me?” He asks, peeking an eye open, only to be met with her free palm covering his eyes as she leans back in to continue working on his eyebrows.

“I would never,” She assures in the same tone, laughing quietly to herself when Yuji’s mouth drops into an offended gape.  “Now hush, you’re making it hard to focus” 

Her tone was playfully scolding, but it’s an empty threat.

“Am I that distracting?”

“Incredibly,” (y/n) huffs, and it’s meant to be teasing, but there’s just a little too much truth to her tone.  “You talk too much” She throws the excuse out there quickly, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the shift in her tone.

Yuji shrugs his shoulders, and with how close she is to him, she’s able to watch his lips curl into a cute smile.  She can’t help but mirror it, even if he can’t see.

“Can’t help it.  I like talkin’ to you” 

Now she’s certain that she’ll keep her hand over his eyes, because there’s no way she’s going to risk him seeing the way her face heats up with color.  If she put a thermometer in her mouth, it’d malfunction, she’s sure.

Yuji’s heart may have been going haywire, but there’s not an ounce of uncertainty in his words.  He means it, and she knows it.

There’s a pause, the both of them remaining silent while she freezes in her ministrations.  She squeezes the tweezers together a few times as she lets the comment really settle in her mind.

“I like talking to you too,” 

It really shouldn’t be a difficult thing to say.  For one, because it’s the truth.  And for a second thing, because there’s nothing strange about friends getting along with one another.  But for some reason, she holds her breath after she says it, and her heart is pounding in her ears.

“Today’s been a lot of fun, actually” It takes some effort to talk through the lump in her throat, but she feels the need to tell him anyway.

His smile turns into a grin, and (y/n) has to go back to working on his eyebrows in order to distract herself from it.

“It has,” Yuji agrees.  “It’s very relaxing.  I want to do this all the time now” 

“I’m not sure you’re ready for that,” (y/n) muses.  “You did try to eat the mask” She reminds.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep on getting your help then,” Yuji replies, his tone lighting with hope.  (y/n) scoffs to herself.  “What?” He asks innocently.  “I thought you liked pampering me?” 

“I thought I told you you were talking too much” She chides, moving onto the space between his brows.  Without thinking, she brought her other hand upwards so she could use her thumb to gently brush away the stray hairs from his face.

His eyes are on hers in a moment’s notice, his grin returning.

“I thought you liked talking to me” He said. She has half a mind to smack her hand over his face again- because as predicted, she’s rendered speechless when she’s leaning so close and he’s looking right at her.  But the larger problem now is that she’s completely frozen, staring back at him with wide eyes, like he’d just caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to be.

“I do,” She mumbles, barely conscious of her own voice.  She was too distracted, her eyes shifting between his brown ones.  “You have a little hazel in your eyes” Again, she finds herself speaking without caution, or much awareness at all.

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles up at her, amused by her quiet commentary.  He longs to hear more, to tell her to keep talking, but he worries that he’ll ruin the atmosphere, and startle her into covering his face again.

“I always thought you had the prettiest eyes” He said it as quietly as he could.  As he thought she might, she did startle.  Her eyes go wide and her- now perfectly shaped- brows draw together in a slight knot.

A beat passes before she’s able to reply.

And even then, it's only a barely there, “...really?” 

“Yeah, really,” Yuji answers without missing another beat.  “Sometimes I look at ‘em too long and forget where I am” 

A surprised, breathless little laugh escapes her.  If she wasn’t a blushing wreck before, she certainly was now.  She tries to continue tweezing away at his eyebrows… but it seems like his eyes insist on holding contact with hers, and she can’t exactly pluck eyebrows without looking.

And again, she’s reduced to a mumbled, “R-really?” 

“Mhm” Yuji hums, his point proven as he gets lost staring up at her.  He looks like he has something more to say, but soon enough his eyes are glazed over and he’s got a dopey smile on his face.

That smile is quickly reflected back at him as her insides start to melt to a point of no return.

“I didn’t… uh- I- I didn’t know that” She stammered, and normally she’d feel embarrassed for stuttering over her words too much, but with the bigger picture forming, stuttering was at the bottom of her list for reasons why she was growing bashful.

“Mhm,” Yuji hums again, this one a little more dazed than the last.  He blinks a few times to cure his tunnel vision.  “Sometimes I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t tell you that” 

She chuckles, similarly biting down on her bottom lip until she found her voice again.

“Why wouldn’t you want to tell me that?” She asks softly, brows pinching again with curiosity.

“Well, uh, y’know…” Yuji trails off, barely shrugging his shoulders.  “Didn’t want to say something weird and mess up our friendship” 

At this point, her curiosity was getting the best of her, so with a tilt of her head and a bolder disposition, she gave him a knowing smile.

“So why say something now?” 

“Couldn’t help it” He replies right away, and (y/n) has to purse her lips from grinning too much.

Her eyes flicker away from his, only to glance up at his lips.  She’s looking at him upside down, so for a brief moment Yuji thinks she’s staring at his chin, and he wonders if some of that green mask is still stuck there.  But then he catches the way her lips part and it dawns on him- oh.

It happens all at once and agonizingly slow.  She leans further over him, bringing her face down closer to his.  One of her hands firmly clutches the small set of tweezers, while the other relaxes, fingertips gently brushing over his cheekbone, thumb resting against his temple.  Yuji can’t decide whether he wants to watch it happen with wide eyes, or close them and give into the moment.  They end up falling shut on their own accord as soon as her lips brush over his- before she’s even actually kissed him.

She hovers there for a brief moment, her lips ghosting his, the tip of her nose grazing his chin, and her mind running wild.  Should she have asked him if this was okay first? Was she making this huge leap of faith over one compliment? Sure, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her but if she kissed him right now, like this, would she come to regret it-? 

Her thoughts are calmed when Yuji tilts his head back, bringing his lips to meet hers in a kiss that pushes every last doubt out of her mind, until it’s gone blank.  Every thought that doesn’t surround him is completely lost.

Needless to say there’s no second thought when she kisses him back.  Her fingers press softly into the skin of his cheek as though to keep him still- just as she had before when applying the eyelash serum.  Yuji never could have imagined his silly daydreams from that moment would play out in reality just twenty minutes later.

When they part, and Yuji drops his head properly back into her pillow, (y/n) doesn’t go far.  With her eyes still shut and her touch unmoving, she leans down one more time to steal another, quicker kiss, before she finally sits up and glances down at him again.

He’s already looking at her, his lips stretching so wide that his grin nearly split his face.  It was a grin she was familiar with, but it still made her light up with a shared joy.

She giggles at him, before steadying her tweezers in her fingers and going right back to the previous task at hand.

“Couldn’t help it” She mumbles his words back to him, and Yuji laughs as he shuts his eyes, relaxing once more as she evened out his eyebrows.

He reaches his hand back, gently laying it against her bent knee and giving it an affectionate squeeze.  He didn’t say anything, and neither did she, but they didn’t have to.  Not until they finished their night of pampering and made plans for a proper date later in the week.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

#itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji imagine #yuji x reader #itadori x reader #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori imagine #itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori imagine

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

~

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

-

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

-

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

-

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

-

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

-

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

-

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

~

Writing Masterlist

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #stars writes #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies

[copperbadge]

Immediate Writer's Block

Had a comment on another post where I thought I'd probably need more space than the notes in which to respond, so:

constant-state-of-self-discovery Oh I get the envy I feel it right now how the fuck do you manage to write without impassable writers block after 5-9 sentences because I haven't fucking figured it out lol

I do have some advice on this!

I think most writers get blocked from time to time, it's normal and my general strategy is just to wait it out, but if you're frequently blocked after only writing a very little bit, I think the problem is one of two things: either you don't know what you want to achieve with the scene you're writing, or you don't know what should happen next within the scene to achieve that goal. If you frame "I'm blocked" as "I don't have an answer I need" then often you move from just sitting there, sweating and staring at a blank page, to thinking productively about how you're going to get where you're going. It's the difference between not knowing an answer and not knowing an answer but knowing where to look for it.

An invaluable piece of advice for this, which I think I picked up from someone who got it off a National Novel Writing Month messageboard, is "When in doubt, ninjas attack." It's not meant to be literal, you don't need to have ninjas or fight scenes just because you don't know what to do, but it helps to get the creativity flowing again. If you don't know what should happen next, or you know but you're having trouble actually writing the scene, it can be very helpful to induce a moment of uncertainty or surprise -- to have a metaphorical ninja attack. One time I did this literally -- the POV character was just on the road somewhere and I didn't know how to get them from a pastoral country road to their actual destination in an interesting way, so I had them get attacked by highway bandits and have to fight them off, which also allowed me to demonstrate that the character had significant unarmed combat skills. But it can also just be like, two characters who are having a boring conversation can be interrupted by a third person, even just a stranger asking for directions, or there can be, IDK, an explosion, or something goes missing, or etc.

Sometimes it also helps to leave it alone but keep it in your mind and go do something else -- listen to a podcast, take a walk, read a book, not because those things are distracting but because all our inputs eventually feed into our brain and come out as reactions. If you're thinking about your book while you're wandering around a park, something you see in the park might have an impact on it. If you've got YOUR story in mind while reading someone else's, you might be more inclined to look at what they're saying and see what you think of it, how it might play into your work.

And honestly, sometimes you just gotta go past it. I'm working on the next Shivadh novel right now and it opens basically with Simon the chef getting into a spat with his love-interest-to-be over some cheese. He want the cheese, she won't sell him the cheese, so they get off to a very contentious start. But I suck at writing conflict especially when it's basically "A character I like is being pompous and another character I want people to find likable is being stubborn and somewhat unpleasant". I've been stalled on it for a while. But I know where the scene ends up, like I do know what the goal is, so I just...skipped it and went on to writing a scene I like better, where they meet a second time and actually discover each others' identity and that they're about to be forced into the grownup equivalent of a school project. Once I've gotten dug deeper into the story I'll come back and write it, and by then I'll have the benefit of knowing the love interest a bit better.

So yeah -- I think a lot of breaking a writer's block, especially when you don't need rest but are just stumped about what to do, is to twist and look at it from another angle. It's not that you don't know what to write, or don't want to write what you know you have to -- it's that you don't have the correct answer to a question, or you need to leave that part alone to ferment and come back to it later. At least, for me.

#writing #constant-state-of-self-discovery #writer's block #inspiration #archive

[engie-ivy]

(Inspired by @wolfstarmicrofic 's Alternative Universes theme! A sort of combined Performer AU and College AU🙂)

1058 words

Sirius Black's emotional break-up songs are topping the charts all over the world. But hearing those songs everywhere he goes, Remus is about to reach his breaking point.

With His Song

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not the concrete, nor the stone,

Not the room you sit in,

But the smile that lights it up.

Not the bed you sleep in,

But the heartbeat besides your own.

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not necessarily a place,

Sometimes, it's tracing the scars on someone's hand,

Sometimes, it's counting the freckles on someone's face.

It's been so long,

Coming home to you,

And did you know,

I could easily move on?

But the truth is,

I just don't want to.

If home is where the heart is,

Then baby, could it be,

That your home is still with me?

Mary lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of her. “My god, I'm going to listen to that song on repeat for the rest of the week,” and after a moment she adds “potentially the rest of my life.”

“Then you're gonna have to get some headphones,” Remus says. “Because I'm already getting sick of hearing it.”

Mary gasps and clutches her chest. “Blasphemy!”

Remus gives her an unimpressed look. “I don't think you're using that word right.”

“‘Irreverence toward something considered sacred or inviolable’,” Mary states unfazed. “So yes, the perfect description of you insulting Sirius Black's music.”

Emmeline nods emphatically.

Remus sighs. “I'm not saying it's a bad song,” he says. “Just that I'm getting tired of hearing it everywhere, all the time.”

Mary opens her mouth to retort, but Emmeline interjects.

“I do sort of relate. It has gotten a painful tinge to hear the song, now that I know I won't be seeing Sirius Black perform it live…”

“You didn't get tickets for his show?” Marlene asks.

“No,” Emmeline sighs miserably. “I'm on the waiting list. Number 329.”

“Not as bad as Hestia. She's number 1550 or something.”

Emmeline shrugs. “In the end, it makes no difference. 329 or 1550, neither one of us is going to the concert. I mean, 329 people will have to die, and I don't reckon I'd be that lucky…”

“Emmeline!” Lily scolds.

“Well, that's the only excuse for not going to a Sirius Black concert, literally being dead,” Mary says. “I'd actually skip my mum’s funeral if I could see him live.”

“Mary!”

“No, no, Lils,” Emmeline says. “You don't know Mary's mum. If Mary were to miss out on seeing Sirius Black for her funeral, she'd actually come back from the death to haunt her.”

Mary nods. “She's a huge fan. Not going to a Sirius Black concert would be disrespecting her memory.” She glances over at Remus. “She might have some things to say as well if she hears that my actual roommate has openly disrespected Sirius Black’s music.”

Remus sticks out his tongue. “Sue me.”

“As soon as they create a law that makes depreciating Sirius Black illegal, which they should, I will!”

“Anyhow,” Emmeline says. “I haven't heard Sirius Black's voice for almost five minutes and I'm getting withdrawal symptoms,” and she reaches out to put the record back on.

Remus gets up to his feet. “That's my cue to leave.”

“You don't have to, Remus,” Lily says quickly. “If you really don't want us to, we won't put on his music. We value your company more than listening to Sirius Black.”

“Says who? Ow!” Emmeline rubs her shin where Lily kicked her.

Remus smiles at Lily. “Thanks, Lils, but it's okay. I have a paper I need to work on anyway.”

The moment Remus closes the door to his bedroom, he lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of him.

Then, almost without thinking, he takes out his phone and punches in the number by heart.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line sounds surprised and, dare Remus think, hopeful?

“You have to stop doing this,” Remus hears himself say. “No,” he then corrects himself. “You don't have to do anything. I'm asking you. Please stop doing this.”

“Remus, what are you talking about?” He seems to be walking away from something– A promo event? A fancy dinner? An exclusive party?– as Remus can hear the voices in the background grow softer. Remus feels a brief hint of satisfaction; no matter how big the event he's at, how important the people he's with, when Remus calls, he gets up and walks away to talk to him, but Remus quickly corrects himself, because it's not like that anymore.

“It's killing me,” Remus admits, pressing a hand against his forehead. “I understand, but… God, it's killing me.”

“Rem,” Sirius, because of course it's Sirius, says gently. “You're still not making much sense. What are you trying to say? Why are you suddenly calling me? Why… Why now?”

“Your latest releases,” Remus says, as he starts pacing the room, though he can barely take two steps before he reaches the opposite wall. It's rather telling of the difference between them, he can't help but think. Sirius undoubtedly in some grand building surrounded by dozens of people who would fall over themselves to cater to his every whim, and Remus hiding out in his eight square meter bedroom cluttered with textbooks and scribbled notes. “I get why you do it. I'm probably terribly biased,” he lets out a brief laugh. “But I think the songs you wrote when we were together, and even after we just broke up, are your best songs, so I get that you would want to release them, to share them with the world and show everyone once again just how bloody talented you are. And you have every right. They're your works, your creations. But gods, Sirius, I can't pretend anymore.”

“Pretend,” Sirius repeats, his voice almost a whisper, and Remus lets it all out.

“I can't pretend anymore that hearing those songs everywhere I go all the damn time doesn't make me want to die! That it doesn't just break me, to hear your voice sing those words, knowing what they once meant, and knowing that they don't mean that anymore! That you don't mean that anymore.”

“Remus,” Sirius interrupts sharply, and Remus immediately stops talking as Sirius speaks. “Do you really think I could sing those words like that, if I didn't still feel that way?”

And Remus’ breath catches in his throat.

#famous sirius black #singer sirius black #post breakup #academic remus lupin #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

[lets-try-some-writing]

Okay this is going to be super off topic but I had a random thought for the Mr. Pax au

So you know how June had a crush on Optimus? Imagine if June meets Mr. Pax and has a crush on him. Jack would be mortified and it would definitely make parent/teacher conferences a little bit awkward

Boy oh boy I bet it is awkward.

Previous post here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elita may have been new to Earth, but even she could see the way the human woman stared longingly at her Conjunx. Of course, the one called June was completely unaware of the fact that Mr. Pax the history teacher was in fact Optimus Prime, but for Elita, that made the whole affair more humorous. Optimus had politely refused to acknowledge the occasional comments about Jack's teacher and Elita knew it was not her place to interfere unless things became serious.

She and Optimus spoke about the issue and opted to let it be until it became necessary to dash June's affection. But of course, that time came sooner than expected when the time came for parent teacher conferences not too long after her arrival on Earth.

"Jack is aware of your identity. What do you plan to do?" Elita stood at her Conjunx's side as he worked at the console. He turned away from his work and met her gaze. He smiled faintly and his optics cycled wide like they used to before he became Prime.

"A gentle message will suffice." Optimus's field wrapped around her comfortingly, with the barest hint of mirth. Elita recognized the concoction of emotion and laughed outright as he all but read Optimus's mind.

Orion Pax had not been a comedic character, but he was particularly good at the higher caste surprises that always left a mech gaping. Political intrigue was not something he generally enjoyed, but he was a fantastic player and knew how to put on a show.

"Do you intend to reveal yourself as well?" Grasping Optimus's servo, Elita watched a coy grin play on his features. How long had it been since she'd seen her beloved have any sort of fun?

"Perhaps. It would certainly save us all a few uncomfortable situations." Optimus grinned like he was a young mech again. Elita couldn't help but laugh once more and lean against him. This was going to be amusing.

━━━━━━

Elita waited patiently outside of Optimus's office and listened as he discussed Jack's performance in class. She watched the events playing out on a handheld device the humans called a 'phone' with a slight grin. June Darby was professional throughout most of it, but as the meeting progressed and Jack seemed to shrink in on himself with every passing moment, June finally made her move as she packed up.

"Thank you for your time Mr. Pax. If you don't mind me asking, could I possibly have your number?" Elita had to bite back a laugh as she watched her Conjunx pause in putting Jack's files away. The poor boy in question seemed ready to explode as he caught sight of the glint in Optimus's eyes.

"I am afraid I can't do that." Optimus placed his papers down and Elita took the opportunity to step into the office, the 'phone' put away and out of the view.

"All done love?" Elita was quick to wrap her arms around her Conjunx's shoulders as he sat at his desk, smug as ever. Not that anyone except Elita would notice the possessive nature that remained hidden behind his Primely visage.

June looked like she'd been slapped in the face. Elita couldn't say she blamed the woman. June was familiar with Elita's holoform. In fact, it had been June who helped her design it. The fact that Elita was here and being so openly affectionate with 'Mr. Pax' had to be startling through implication alone.

"As you can see, I am quite taken with my darling wife as you humans say." Jack seemed to have given up on life as June processed the information. There was a brief moment where June seemed to have broken something in her processor before it finally clicked and she gripped the desk in shock.

"OPTIMUS?!?"

Yeah, waiting around had been worth it.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #jack darby #june darby #elita one #teacher au #mr pax and his darling wife are at it again #oplita #optimus x elita

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | four

prologue | one | two | three | four

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: blood, bad language, talking about trauma, bad familiar relationships (King of hybern father of the year)

Sitting in that chair, Nimue did nothing but absorb everything she saw around her: the paintings hanging on the walls, the rugs covering the floor, every detail placed on the shelves, the books arranged alphabetically...

It was all perfect. She had never imagined what the physical representation of the word "home" would be like, yet she felt it should be like this. In every carefully placed thing, she saw the affection behind it.

She stopped daydreaming and returned to the most pressing matter: the fact that, for some reason, she was tied to that chair.

Bound, but without seeing the ropes. It was an invisible force that pushed her against the wood of the armrests and the cushion of the backrest. She tried to suppress a laugh with little success because she knew effortlessly she could free herself from those ties. But well, if it made them feel safer, so be it.

She looked up, first to that male: Azriel, as she had heard others call him.

She still felt that sensation pulsing right in the middle of her being, making her gaze involuntarily go to him even in that room full of people.

Azriel felt like he was going to explode. He stood, leaning against the back of one of the sofas in the living room, positioned between Rhysand and Amren. With his arms crossed over his chest, he tried to control his breathing, counting to ten and releasing the air, counting again.

His wings trembled upon hearing the small laugh that escaped from the lips of that stranger. "What the hell are you laughing at? Do you find the situation funny?" he barked at the girl. She seemed surprised as her expression changed abruptly.

"No," she replied, furrowing her brow. She could feel the man's anger through that invisible thread connecting her to him. She tried to clear her mind. "It's just amusing that you have me tied up here. I can free myself at any moment, and if I don't, it's because I know you're afraid of me."

Rhysand's face must have been a sight. Afraid of her? He reinforced even more the restraints binding the girl to the chair, and with a sly smile, he took a step forward. "Dare to let yourself go, and you'll see what happens."

Was that some kind of sarcasm? Nimue didn't understand, she was just used to people speaking to her clearly, if only to avoid being in her presence more than necessary.

So she stood up, crossing the restraints of the High Lord like someone walking against a gentle breeze. Everyone jumped in their seats, reaching for their weapons or preparing to defend themselves.

But Nimue simply stood there, scanning from one to another: from the High Lord to Azriel, from the petite woman to Cassian, as she had heard Rhysand call him.

"I know you don't understand what I am or who I am right now, but it's okay. I'll explain it calmly, but you have to be willing to listen to me. You need me more than I need you."

Cassian let out a mocking laugh, "And why did you help us if you say you don't need us?"

And then silence fell.

Why had she helped them?

She had acted without thinking, that's for sure. She had never contradicted her father, and for the first time it was under such circumstances that something didn't fit deep within her conscience. She could excuse it with those memories that weren't hers: seeing those two humans in the Cauldron had awakened in her those memories from twenty years ago. But it wasn't just that.

Yes, she knew that within her, that idea of killing her father, ending him, stopping that plan he wanted to carry out and doing good had always been germinating. But in between there was always that rotten and unconditional love she felt for the King of Hybern, which was written in every cell of her being from the day she emerged.

"I needed an excuse," she said aloud. All the attention of those present was on her, and she kept talking. "I always knew my father was never the good one. I'm missing pieces of the story, I only know what he told me through filters. I know there are people in Prythian, I know there's going to be a war, I know everything revolves around the Cauldron. But I don't know much more."

My father.

When the girl uttered those words, Azriel felt a surge rising from the depths of his throat. How could a monster like the King of Hybern have sired such a beautiful creature?

Yes, beautiful. She is beautiful.

He stopped his thoughts abruptly, trying to ignore his own shadow's whispers. He was hallucinating, again.

"I also know that my father expected me to fight for him in this war, to incinerate Prythian's forces. He counted on an easy victory, however now..." Nimue's hands couldn't stop playing with the fabric of the dress she was wearing. It was then that she realized the pristine white fabric of her skirt was stained with blood, the blood of the Illyrians. She took a deep breath and continued speaking, "He's not going to take it very well that I've done this. That I've... betrayed him.”

"Well, don't tell me."

Nimue looked up at Azriel. Was that irony again?

Rhysand gave the Shadowsinger a stern look, and everyone fell silent again, waiting for the girl to speak.

But she didn't know where to continue. What should she tell them about herself? Should she tell them what she was?

And in the midst of the prolonged silence, the High Lord spoke up, "No one knew of the existence of a princess of Hybern. If you claim to be so powerful, why did your father never boast about you?"

There was something that didn't add up in all of this and had Rhysand uneasy. He felt the presence of the female, a pale, pulsating white light in the middle of the room. It was a strange magic, something he couldn't quite categorize within the fae magic that flowed through his veins. His gaze shifted to Amren, hoping she could shed some light on the situation, but to his surprise, she looked just as bewildered as he did.

"My father never wanted my existence to be known. I..." Nimue bit her lip, weighing how much revealing everything to this group of strangers would be a good idea. "I've never left Hybern. In fact, I've never left the castle."

"How old are you, girl? Have you been locked up in there your whole life?" Amren asked.

"It's hard to say how old I am. In this body, I've lived twenty years of yours. Before that... my memories are clouded."

"In this body? Before that?" Azriel inquired. He felt like he was going crazy, wanting to pull his hair out and scream. What was happening? Of all the outcomes he had predicted for today, this was certainly one he wouldn't have even dreamed of. "Tell us the truth, or I swear I'll slit your throat."

Nimue smiled, a poisonous smile she had learned from her father.

"I doubt it. If I have to kick your ass again like I did out there, I will," she held Azriel's gaze. And added, "And with pleasure."

Azriel snorted, baring his teeth in an aggressive gesture and reaching for his dagger. Nimue simply smiled, holding his gaze without flinching.

With that mask she had learned to wear.

Rhysand rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his face, trying to process everything that was happening.

They hadn't obtained the Cauldron, they had learned of Tamlin's betrayal, they had transformed his mate's sisters, and now this. It had been a very eventful day, to say the least.

"So you're trying to tell us that you've been in this world for twenty years, but before that, you were somewhere else, right? Do you remember where?"

"Yes," said Nimue. She tried to hold back another laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "In the Cauldron."

And they fell silent again.

The expressions on everyone's faces were like something out of a painting, and Nimue let out a quiet laugh.

She had never had to explain who or what she was; everyone where she came from knew. They all knew her.

"Well," she began calmly, "we all know my father, the King of Hybern. The fanatic, lunatic and power-hungry one."

"Yes, unfortunately."

"He impregnated one of his royal concubines, and in the midst of that madness, he decided to put her in the Cauldron. I don't know if it was under coercion from the Cauldron itself, if it was a demand my father made, or what. But the woman died instantly, and in exchange for her life, I came out of the Cauldron."

"So, you're telling me that the Cauldron not only has the power to turn humans into fae, as we've seen with Feyre's sisters. You're telling me," Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts, "that the Cauldron granted the King a daughter in exchange for a sacrifice, no more, no less."

"Yes, but it's not something that will happen again. The Cauldron created me as its own whim, just as it has done with those two humans you mentioned. Feyre’s sisters…"

“Elain and Nesta.”

"Yes," said Nimue. "What it has done with them won't happen again. Not for a long time, at least. The Cauldron only responds to its own impulses, and I don't even understand them myself. Our fae minds aren't made to understand what the Cauldron is or how it acts. Not even the mind of that creature."

Nimue pointed at Amren, who crossed her arms with a sly smile.

"Well, on that you're right. Not even this creature," she said, pointing to herself, "is capable of understanding under what desires that pot acts."

And they all fell silent again, weighing the situation and assimilating what the girl had said.

Azriel was simply angry, furious. He couldn't feel anything else at that moment. He didn't care much about the Cauldron's affairs, nor did he lose sleep over trying to understand how it worked.

He just wanted to know why he had the misfortune of finding out that his mate, whom he had been waiting to meet since he was a child, had to be the damn daughter of the King of Hybern.

"And regarding your problem," Nimue continued, this time addressing only Azriel, "well, our problem. I never knew what a mate was, as you called it. I knew that the Cauldron forged the souls of people to be incomplete, so that if they were lucky, they would find the other half they were missing during their life. But when I saw you, when I felt it, I was able to understand. I'm sorry if it's been a disappointment, but it is what it is."

Azriel frowned, his arms crossed and the hair on his arms bristling. He felt like he was trembling with rage.

"I didn't ask for this, princess."

Nimue didn't want to admit it, but the pull of disdain she felt on the other side of the bond made her heart shrink.

"Great, neither did I."

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @donttellthecats @annblvd

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #cassian #rhysand

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Home | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mention of parental death, mentions of abuse

Word Count: 4388

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You sat cross-legged on the floor of the boys’ motel room, sipping a coffee you’d run out to get earlier that morning. Dean was on his computer, and you were responding to the potential cases he’d found.

“A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali—” Dean started.

“Ooh, I like Cali,” you cut him off.

“—Its crew vanished.” He finished.

“And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.” 

“Meh, that’s boring. Let somebody else handle that one,” you dismissed.

Dean noticed Sam hadn’t spoken in just about the last hour. He was frantically scribbling on a notepad.

“Hey,” Dean called to his brother. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”

“No. I’m listening. Keep going.”

He clearly wasn’t.

“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.”

“Ooh, I like that one,” you said. 

Dean leaned over and waved a hand in front of Sam’s face. “Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at his notepad. “Wait. I’ve seen this.”

“Seen what?” you asked.

Sam got up from his bed and began rifling through his duffel bag. 

“What are you doing?” Dean eyed his brother strangely.

The younger brother pulled out a photo from the bag and held it up next to his drawing. You couldn’t quite see what he was looking at from where you sat.

“Guys, I know where we have to go next.”

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Back home. Back to Kansas,” he responded.

The older brother was surprised. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”

He showed the photo to the two of you. “Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?”

“Yeah…?” Dean still had no idea where he was going with this.

“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?” 

Dean— as well as you— was still lost. “I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house— I think they might be in danger,” Sam rushed out.

“Why would you think that?” you questioned.

“Uh… it’s just, um… look, just trust me on this, okay?” Sam turned away.

“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean shook his head and stood to follow him. “Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.”

“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam shrugged.

“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do.” 

You turned to face Sam as he began to explain. “I have these nightmares.”

You nodded. “We’ve noticed.”

“And sometimes… they come true.”

Dean was stunned. “Come again?”

“Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica’s death— for days before it happened,” Sam explained.

“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” Dean sat back down on the edge of his bed. 

“No,” the younger brother protested. “I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”

You felt overwhelmed, and so did Dean. “I don’t know.”

Sam sat down across from his brother. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!”

“Sam, slow down—” you urged him, knowing Dean was about to go through the roof.

Sure enough, Dean stood and started pacing. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”

“When what?” you asked.

Dean’s voice broke for the first time since you’d met him. “When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?”

Sam’s puppy dog eyes appeared as he spoke softly, “Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”

Dean nodded. “I know we do.”

***

You looked out at the boys’ childhood home and followed them up to the front door.

“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked his brother who didn’t respond.

“Jury’s still out on that,” you muttered in response.

Dean knocked on the front door, and a young woman answered. You could see a look of recognition pass over Sam’s face.

“Yes?” the woman said.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—”

One Winchester cut the other off. “I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”

The woman seemed surprised and smiled. “Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.” She turned to you. “Are you a Winchester, too? I didn’t see a little girl in any of the pictures.”

You shook your head. “No, no. Just a friend. (Y/N).”

She smiled at you. “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”

Inside the home, a girl who looked to be around seven sat at the table doing homework, and a little boy who was presumably two jumped in his playpen.

“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” the toddler called excitedly.

“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie,” Jenny explained, taking a sippy cup from the fridge and bringing it to her son. “But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy.” She walked back over to her daughter. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). The boys used to live here.”

“Hi,” the shy girl said quietly.

You waved.

“So, you just moved in?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, from Wichita.”

“You got family here, or…?”

Jenny’s smile faded. “No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”

“So, how you likin’ it so far?” Sam questioned.

Jenny laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home— I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here—”

You discreetly turned to see Dean smile weakly. 

“But this place has its issues,” she finished.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”

That caught your attention. “Oh, that’s too bad. What else?”

“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”

Dean shook his head. “No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”

Jenny looked at him quizzically. “It’s just the scratching, actually.”

Sari tugged on her mom’s shirt, who stooped down next to her. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”

“What, Sari?” Sam asked.

“The thing in my closet,” she whispered as if the thing would hear.

“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Jenny looked up to you and the boys. “Right?”

They shook their heads.

“She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny explained.

Sari’s voice suddenly got louder. “I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.”

The boys seemed too shocked to speak.

You took over. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You’re okay now though, right?”

She nodded.

“See? It didn’t get ya. It was only a dream.”

You knew it wasn’t. A pit filled your stomach after saying your goodbyes to the family and heading out of the door. 

“You hear that? A figure on fire,” Sam reminded the two of you.

“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked.

"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin’ true,” the older brother chuckled humorlessly.

“Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”

“I don’t know!” Dean responded.

The brothers were only making each other panic worse at this point.

“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?” Sam inquired.

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”

“Both of you need to calm down,” you told them, simultaneously getting in the car. “We’re gonna get those people safe. Whatever’s in there is not gonna hurt you or those people.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Dean remarked.

You snapped into a more intense tone, leaning over the backseat. “Look, dude, you’re gonna get your shit together. The two of you are only ramping each other up. Now, you are going to get a grip or I will do this job on my own.”

Sam and Dean both nodded.

“You’re runnin’ low on gas, Dee.” You patted Dean’s cheek before sitting back against your chair. 

***

“We just gotta chill out, that’s all,” Dean said as he pumped gas. 

“I’ve tried telling you that eighty times since we left that house.”

He ignored your snide comment. “You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”

"We’d try to figure out what we were dealin’ with. We’d dig into the history of the house,” Sam sighed.

"Exactly,” the older brother began, “except this time, we already know what happened.”

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?”

"About that night, you mean?”

"Yeah.”

Dean paused. “Not much. I remember the fire… the heat. And then I carried you out the front door.”

You looked at the floor, knowing how hard this must be for him to open up.

“You did?” the younger Winchester asked.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?”

"No.”

“And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was— was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”

“And he never had a theory about what did it?”

“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”

"Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”

You decided to add your two cents. “Yeah. We can talk to your dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”

Silence blanketed the three of you for a moment, the air feeling heavy. 

“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam piped up.

‘Of course, it doesn’t,’ you thought.

Dean kept quiet for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he finally said. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He walked away, and you watched him turn the corner around the gas station. He looked back for a moment, and you assumed it was to see if anyone had followed him.

You furrowed your brows. You allowed a few minutes to pass before you announced to Sam, “I’m gonna go check on Dean.”

While you turned the corner, you saw Dean exiting the bathroom door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. When he noticed you, he tried to shoulder his normal attitude.

“You stalkin’ me?”

“No, actually, I came to check on you.”

“Well, I’m fine.” He went to brush past you.

You grabbed his bicep. “Don’t lie to me.”

He stopped, looking you over. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Then what’s this?” you gently brushed your first finger under his chin, picking up a tear he had forgotten to wipe away. You held it up for him to see.

Dean opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He gently pulled his arm out of your grip. “C’mon, let’s go.” He started walking away from you.

You caught up to him, asking, “Are you sure you don’t just want me to do this one by myself?”

He nodded sharply. 

Sam gave you a curious look while Dean got in the car.

You shook your head before the two of you ducked into the Impala simultaneously.

***

The three of you spoke to a man who had owned a car garage with John years ago. You learned how much John had changed before Mary’s death versus after, and you began to understand why Dean was the way he was. You also learned that he had been going to see a palm reader in town. Dean recognized the names of one of the palm readers Sam had read from a compiled list: Missouri Moseley. The three of you went over to her house and waited in her foyer as she finished with her last client.

She guided the client out of the door. “Alright, there. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.”

The man thanked her, and she closed the door behind you.

She addressed the three of you. “Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”

You giggled.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.

“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news,” the woman explained. You stared at her, as did the boys.

“Well? Sam, Dean, (Y/N), come on already, I ain’t got all day.”

You looked at Dean. You knew you hadn’t told her your name. The three of you followed her into the next room. 

“Well, lemme look at ya,” she smiled at the boys. “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She pointed her finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.” 

You giggled again. You liked her a lot.

“Sam.” Missouri grabbed his hand. “Oh, honey…I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And your father— he’s missin’?”

“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked her.

“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now.”

“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean questioned.

Missouri’s smile faded. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?” 

“Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please.”

You smirked at Sam and sat down.

Missouri snapped at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”

“I didn’t do anything!” he responded.

“But you were thinkin’ about it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, and you and Sam smiled.

“(Y/N), honey, I didn’t mean to completely disregard you,” she smiled at you. “(Y/L/N)... where do I know that name from?” She pondered for a moment and her smile faded. “I knew your dad. Mean ol’ bastard.”

Your throat clenched. You could feel the boys looking at you, but you kept your eyes on Missouri. 

“I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she went on. “I’m just sorry about what he did to you. And your brother? You poor thing.” She tsked. 

Tears welled in your eyes. 

Sam knew he should change the subject. “Okay. So, our dad— when did you first meet him?”

“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him,” Missouri explained.

“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?” Dean questioned.

“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”

“And could you?”

You tried to focus on the conversation, but your throat was still choked up. You could vaguely register them talking about what Missouri sensed in their house and how she had been keeping an eye on the place since Mary’s passing. All you could focus on were the memories you were being pulled back into. Memories of what your father put you through and how your mother just stood by. Memories of defending your brother against your father’s wickedness. You tried your best to pull yourself back to the light; you knew Missouri could hear what you were thinking. You wouldn’t let yourself be weak enough to let your father hurt you eight years after his death.

“Baby, you are not weak.” Missouri’s voice pulled you back to shore. “I’m sorry I brought all that up for you.”

You nodded at her, voice too weak to respond. Sam squeezed your hand, and you could feel Dean’s gaze boring into the side of your head. 

***

You and the boys headed back to their childhood home with Missouri. You still couldn’t register what was going on outside of your own head. You knew Missouri hadn’t truly brought anything up for you; these memories were all just buried under the surface for you. Hunting didn’t exactly leave much time for you to dwell on your emotions. 

Jenny allowed Missouri to come into her home and showed her and your trio into Sari’s bedroom. You were beginning to come back to earth and could focus on the conversation happening around you. 

“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,” Missouri explained, walking around Sari’s room. 

“Why?” Sam asked.

Missouri turned to him. “This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.”

Dean pulled out his repurposed walkman.

“That an EMF?” Missouri asked.

“Yeah,” Dean answered.

“Amateur,” she deadpanned.

You noticed the EMF was beeping frantically. 

“I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom,” Missouri told the Winchesters.

“Wait, are you sure?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

She nodded.

“How do you know?”

“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.”

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Not it.” Missouri opened the closer. “Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.”

“What are they doing here?” Dean asked.

“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,” Missouri elaborated.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”

“You said there was more than one spirit.”

“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.”

Dean’s voice became hard. “Well, one thing’s for damn sure— nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”

***

After Missouri taught you how to pack small protection bags that you and the boys were to place in the cardinal points on both floors in Jenny’s house, you had to get Jenny and her kids out of harm's way.

“Look, I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving you guys here alone,” she told Missouri.

“Just take your kids to the movies or somethin’, and it’ll be over by the time you get back.”

You could tell the woman was still unsure, but she followed orders anyway. And with that, the four of you got to work.

When you were halfway done with the job, things started to get ugly. Just as you were about to place your second and final bag in the wall of Jenny’s bedroom, a cord snaked around your neck and pulled tightly. You dropped the bag of herbs to the ground; unable to get it into the wall in time. You gasped for air, frantically reaching for the bag but the spirit’s hold was too strong. Your vision began to spot and your face contorted in discomfort; doing the best you could to get air in your lungs. It was no use. Just when you thought it was over, Dean rushed to your side.

“(Y/N)!” he cried, pulling at the cord with all his might.

You clawed at your neck with one hand and motioned to the bag of herbs with the other. Dean understood what you were trying to say, and kicked a hole in the wall. He quickly put the bag inside, and your neck was released. Your head fell to the ground gasping for air.

Dean pulled you into a fierce hug that left you breathless. He pulled back from you, holding your face on either side. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He gingerly touched the place where the cord had undoubtedly bruised your neck. “Can you stand?”

You nodded again. With Dean’s help, you made your way down to Missouri and Sam who stood in the middle of an extremely messy kitchen. Jenny’s kitchen table had been turned on its side with knives driven through the top of it, assumedly by the ghosts. The refrigerator door was swung wide open, and various items from the pantry had spilled out all over the place. 

“You sure this is over?” Sam asked the psychic.

“I’m sure. Why? Why do you ask?”

Sam sighed in response. “Never mind. It’s nothin’, I guess.”

The front door opened.

“Hello? We’re home,” Jenny announced when she walked into the house. She came into the kitchen, dumbfounded by the mess. “What happened?”

"Hi, sorry. Um, we’ll pay for all of this,” Sam told her.

“Don’t you worry. Dean’s gonna clean up this mess,” Missouri added.

Dean stood glued to his spot.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.”

He glared at Missouri, but began walking away nonetheless.

“And don’t cuss at me!”

***

You remained confused by how Dean had hugged you for the rest of the night which you spent in the Impala parked in front of Jenny’s house.

“Alright, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asked his brother.

“I don’t know. I just… I still have a bad feeling,” he responded.

“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”

“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”

Dean slumped down in his seat. “Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.”

You slumped down in your seat, too, only to see Jenny screaming and banging on her bedroom window. “Guys, look!”

The three of you rushed into the house.

“You two grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean said.

You nodded and sprinted to Ritchie’s room. The sleeping toddler was startled when you woke him up, but allowed you to carry him downstairs nonetheless. You met Sam by the front door who said to Sari, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don’t look back.” She obliged and took the little boy from you. 

Before the two of you could do anything else, you were slammed to the ground and dragged backward across the tile floor. You could hear poor Sari screaming as you and Sam were dragged away. 

You were pinned to the wall by an invisible force and pushed up toward the ceiling. You could hear presumably Dean hacking away at the door, trying desperately to get in as a figure on fire approached you.

Dean made his way into the home and called your names frantically. He raised his gun at the fire figure when he caught sight of it.

“No, don’t! Don’t!” Sam cried.

“What, why?!” you asked.

“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.”

And then, the fire vanished revealing who you recognized from pictures as Mary Winchester. She was wearing a white nightgown and her blonde hair billowed softly around her. Her feet were bare, and her aging skin was only slightly wrinkled.

You could see tears rising in Dean’s eyes as he lowered his gun. “Mom?”

The woman smiled and stepped closer to him. “Dean.”

She walked toward you and her youngest son. “Sam.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked. 

She looked at him sadly, but said nothing.  

The woman turned to you last. “Thank you,” she said. 

You smiled back at her, though you weren’t quite sure what she was thanking you for.

She turned away and looked up toward the ceiling. “You get out of my house. And let go of my son.” Her hair and nightgown were swept up into flames once more. The fire licked up to the ceiling, growing larger before disappearing entirely. You and Sam were released from the wall at once.

“Now it’s over,” Sam muttered.

***

The sun had risen while you and the boys were in the house. You called Missouri back to the Winchesters’ childhood home, and she sat on the porch talking with Sam.

You were standing with Dean by the car looking through his old family photos.

“Thanks for these,” Dean told Jenny.

“Don’t thank me, they’re yours.”

Dean put the trunk of photos and family memorabilia in the car.  You and Dean bid Jenny, who thanked you, goodbye before leaning against the car together. The two of you knew you had a lot to talk about, but you weren’t brave enough to start the conversation.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked you.

You couldn’t look at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I think you know.”

You paused a moment before turning to face him. “I promise I’ll tell you, just… not today.” You stuck out your pinkie for him to take.

He chuckled at you. “What are we, five?”

“Just do it, asshole,” you smiled back.

He linked his pinkie with yours, shaking your hand back and forth lightly. The two of you stood there for a second, staring at each other and getting lost in the moment. Before long, you both realized what was going on and jerked away from each other.

Dean scratched his head. “Sam, you ready?” he called.

Sam nodded and came over to the car.

“Don’t you kids be strangers,” Missouri told you.

“We won’t,” Dean responded. 

“See you around,” the woman winked at you.

You smiled at her before getting in the car and driving away. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @doublecrazyyymofo

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

[slytherinobsessed]

we can't be friends | draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x reader | genre: friends to lovers | warning: angst, minors dni | word count: 1.9k | stefy's note: this my first ever fic of draco cause man I DO HAVE A THING FOR VILLANS, so enjoy :)

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Words had always been left unsaid between Draco and you. One night in Fifth Year, he figured if he told you he had a small crush on you, he could get over it. He just didn’t expect you to say you had one back. Or for him to kiss you, and you kiss him back. It made his world crumble before his eyes.

Yet, he made you promise that was a one time thing, and he himself would want to stay friends and act like nothing happened. Which, worked, but he found himself only confiding in you for things.

As usual you were laying on the bed, at your dorm, reading without checkinh the clock. In the same time you were worried about Draco and everything that he has been dealing with lately.

There was a quiet knock at your dorm room door. Your dormmates never knocked. A bit of a pause. A knock again. That was definitely Draco's hand. He was knocking quietly, trying not to startle you. No doubt he wasn't really allowed to be there, but his mind and heart wouldn't allow him to walk away. He needed you, and right now he needed you in a way that he would never admit.

Getting up, closing the block and leaving it aside you. That's when you go to open the door, knowing that it might be Draco.

He was standing there in the dim moonlight, shadows obscuring his face. With his usual, perfect posture, arms crossed, the shadows made him look all the more intimidating. He could sense your presence before he ever saw you, but he was surprised by how soft your footsteps were as you walked down the room. Not a single noise was made that wasn't from his breath or his heartbeat. He looked...different. More vulnerable than usual, almost nervous but still his usual self.

"Is everything ok?" You look at him curiously, worried about what happened. "Did something happen?"

He wasn't expecting you to open the door so quickly in reply. His heart skipped a beat, and his gaze was now glued to you. He was trying his best to keep his voice calm and steady, although he was shaking slightly, and it was pretty clear as to why. When he spoke, he cleared his throat, his tone of voice was as stiff as his body language, his hands in his pockets as usual. "Yes. I just needed to talk to you. May...? May I come in?"

"Sure, come in." You say while moving aside for him to enter the room. Still being confused and worried about what might have happened at this hour.

The door closed behind him, and in the room were now just the two of you. Without taking out his hands from his pockets, he started speaking once more. Again, his voice was as cold and stiff as his demeanor. However, for a small moment, he felt himself relax as he glanced down to the ground. He noticed that you were looking a little tired and a bit confused, but he pushed that aside. "Right...can I sit?"

"Sure." You say, taking a seat next to him ans being prepare to listen to what he has to say.

His heart was beating faster. He could almost feel it. His entire body was trembling now, but he was trying his best to hide his nerves. His breath was quickening, and he wanted to keep his hands steady, but they were shaking. Still...he did not hesitate to take a seat next to you. He then spoke, his voice still as stiff and cold as before, only this time there was a slight...shake. His eyes were fixed on the ground, trying to look anywhere but at you.

That's when you took his face in your hands, making him look at you. "Draco...talk to me...what is it?"

He freezes for a moment. The sound of his breathing suddenly quickened. Your touch was sending shivers down his spine, but he was trying to hide it as much as possible. He swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced up at you. Those familiar blue-grey eyes gazing back at him, the touch of your hands almost calming him. A few moments passed. "Can I ask you something..?"

"Yes" You nod, looking at him and still holding his face in your hands.

He swallows the massive lump in his throat again, his voice shaky and low but his eyes never leaving yours. You had a good heart, he knew that, and he knew that he did trust you. Still...what he was about to ask was completely and utterly irrational. His stomach was in knots from his nerves. You must've known he was nervous, because normally he never was around you. He wanted to say so many things, but all he could manage was a single question. "Can I stay here tonight..?"

"Of course." You smile looking at him. "I'll have to get you a blanket and a pillow or if you don't mind..." You feel your words trail off. "You can stay with me...i mean in my bed."

His heart felt like it was about to explode from its chest. He was trying to stop himself from smirking. He was about to agree to something completely insane. And he was completely and utterly aware of it. Yet when you spoke, the words came crashing down on him. The words that were not even a second ago the last thing he thought you would offer him. "...are you sure...? You don't mind..?"

"If you manage to keep your side of the bed, there shouldn't be any problem." You say giggling a bit, trying to lighten up the mood.

He couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Your joking manner was certainly helping him calm down, even if it was just by a bit. Still, the fact that he was allowed back into your bed made his heart beat faster again. And the thought of you and him being right next to each other all night long. "Trust me, I won't complain. At all."

"Well let's get you to bed." You say as you get up. "Before Spane starts to see that we are past curefew." You say laughing a bit, still trying to lighten up the mood.

He chuckled slightly, his laugh being just a bit more genuine than before. He got up and looked up at you, now his entire face was more...expressive than usual. "Aye, yes...I imagine he would be pretty pissed after a certain hour. I would hate for you to be punished just for me."

"That won't happen." You said smiling and looked at him, taking a deep breath. "And even if it happens we can always use our wands."

He laughed again, although the laughter was now even more sincere. The fact that you weren't afraid to break a few rules was something he had always appreciated about you before. He then smirked, he could do with a little rule-breaking that night if it meant spending time with you. "Right...I forgot. A lot of things can be dealt with a few spells and magic. Especially with our wands. But...we should still be careful about things, right..?"

The two of you were sharing a bed, with a pillow between the two of you, keeping your or him from making any moves. Your back was facing him, as you were dressed in yout casual nightgown. Keeping your eyes closed was the only mechanism from you to try the ignore the closeness you were in.

The two of you were lying there, a thick blanket covering the both of you, while a thin pillow kept you as separate as possible. To be honest, he was trying as hard as possible not to touch you or get close to you in any way whatsoever. He was trying to stay calm, relax, and try not to do something so utterly insane and reckless. Yet your closeness alone was driving him crazy, let alone the fact that you were right next to him. It would take a lot of willpower to keep his hands to himself.

You turn around to talk to him, but all you manage to say is. "Draco..." You whispered, hoping not to wake him up.

He froze in his spot, as still as a statue. His heart had nearly stopped beating as soon as he heard your voice. He knew that you were still awake, as he was still awake as well. He hadn't fallen to sleep or dozed off at all. His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling. His breath had quickened slightly. He wanted to speak, but the sound of his voice would give away how nervous he was. All he managed was a whisper back. Your name. "Yes..?"

"Why are you here?" You whisper back to him. "And i know it's not because you came here to sleep..." You added coming closer to him, keeping yourself from touching him.

He felt you move closer to him. His entire body was trembling now, and his blood was coursing through his veins. Was he really doing this? Of course, he was doing this, he couldn't back out of this now. Your question could be heard loud and clear. He swallowed again, his voice shaky and weak. "I...I didn't want to be alone tonight...and to be perfectly honest...I felt like I needed...well..."

"What is it?" You asked coming closer to him, touching his face and caressing his cheek lightly.

His breath hitched as you touched his cheek. He was trying so hard not to break his own rule. He was trying so hard not to lean towards you. The warmth of your hand on his face sent shivers down his spine. He swallowed again, his throat still tight. "Tonight...I felt like I needed...you...and only you..."

"I'm here." That's when you forget about all the rules that the two of you had in mind. Moving the pillow from between both of you, you come closer to him.

All caution and self-restraint was thrown out the window as soon as you grabbed the pillow and tossed it out. He could feel his heartbeat getting louder with each step, and it was clear as day that this was the last point of no return. No matter what happened now, it would change things completely. You didn't have any rules in mind anymore. Neither did he. You were just a few centimeters away, close enough where you could kiss him. Too close. His hand reached up to touch your face, gently.

You leaned into his touch closing your eyes and started breathing heavily as the two of you were so close to each other. His entire body was shaking when you leaned into his hand. When you closed your eyes, it was that moment he was waiting for. He reached the other hand under your chin and slowly, but firmly drew you towards him. His eyes never left yours as he made you lean in closer to him. The distance between the two of you was now...millimeters until your lips met.

© SLYTHERINOBSESSED — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

#Spotify #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x female reader #slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherin x reader #slytherin imagine #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x female reader

[lunajay33]

Change Part.5

•🎀🩰🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.4

•Masterlist•

“I wanna see ya dance”

“Are you sure it’s kind of embarrassing”

“Show me Angel” he smiled with encouragement

I turned on Swan lake music and did the best I could from what I was capable of, I tried avoiding eye contact, this was my Daryl Dixon I didn’t wanna see him laughing in my face over something in so passionate about, but he never did make fun of me and he never would

“My ballerina, always so graceful”

He wrapped his arms around my waist after I was done pulling me down onto the bed on our apartment in Atlanta, I straddled his legs looking down at him

“I got a surprise for ya”

“Oh do you now?” I smirked thinking he was trying to turn the mood around

“A guy I work with at the shop has a girlfriend, she runs a dance studio and she got classes for adults on the weekends, got a discount so ya could go, if ya want” his face became red which I always adored my heart swelled for him

“DARYL! Are you serious you did that for me” I yelled excited

“Anything for my angel”

“Kids I need everyone to stay completely silent okay, everyone sit along the wall of the windows and don’t move, we will stay until your parents come in 20 minutes” I said calmly as to not scare them they were only young

They listened and we were all sit in silence, my thoughts are in over drive what the hell was happening something was incredibly wrong how was I suppose to leave with those people out there like that and what about where Daryl was

Parents filled in quickly in panic dragging their kids out until finally it was just me, I took out my cell phone dialing Daryl praying he’d answer, my hands were sweaty my chest felt tight

“Angel you okay?” Daryl answered

“Daryl somethings wrong, people are coming back from the dead and eating each other please come get me I’m scared” I heard the tremble in my voice

“Don’t ya move im coming”

He was there in less than 10 minutes running into my classroom grabbing my by my shoulders and wrapping his arms around me tight holding me like the world was ending…….maybe it was

“We gotta go, we’ll go home and get our stuff but Merle’s packin some supplies fer us to get outta town ya gotta be strong” he said wiping my tears away

“Okay just don’t let go of me”

“Never”

We got home and I was quick to fill up a duffel bag with spare clothes, family jewelry, pictures of Daryl and I, baby clothes I had started buying, prenatals and just as I was about to leave I looked into the spare room seeing my Ballet collection, the slippers were still as pretty as the day Daryl gifted them to me, I laid them on the top of my belongs in the bag and zipped it up

“My lil Ballerina ya ready to go?” Daryl asked gently running his hand down my arm

“I don’t wanna leave this is our home, where we were gonna raise this baby”

“We will be alright, cause as long as I got ya with me, I’m home” Daryl didn’t get extremely soft and sentiment with me but when he did I knew it was serious

“Okay, I’m ready” he held my hand tight leading me to his truck with his motorcycle strapped in the trunk, Merle hot on our tail driving his own bike, over the years Merle had gotten a bit more use to me but Merle was Merle he was still an ass and sometimes liked to take his frustrations out on me

“Where are we going?” I asked leaning my head on his shoulder trying to distract myself from the screams and blood all over the streets

“That place I took ya up at the quarry where…….where we were first together”

“Daryl where are you taking me?” I asked as there was a cloth around my eyes as he drove me to god knows where

“Told ya it’s a surprise”

After some more time driving the truck stopped, Daryl got out coming to my side to help me out

“Can I please see now?”

He untied the cloth and what I saw made my heart melt, it was a tent over looking a serene blue quarry lake, he brought me inside the tent where he had a tons of blankets and a picnic basket in the middle

“D you did all this for me?” I asked looking at him with tears in my eyes

“ ‘Course Angel, after what ya did get me, patchin me up, making me feel safe, wanted to give ya somethin back”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders something so new, after Daryl had that incident with his dad we had gotten a lot closer

“I appreciate this so much but you didn’t have to do something back for me, I help you because I want to because……..I love you” he was silent and tensed making me nervous, we’d talked about how he didn’t have much comfort and love growing up

“I think I love ya too, if this is what love feels like” he had the faintest smile

“Soooo would you be my boyfriend?” I asked biting my lip

“Definitely” he smirked as he backed me onto the blankets laying me down so he was hovered over me

“I wanna be with you Daryl, I’m ready”

When we got to the quarry all the memories came rushing back as I looked out over the quarry, a group was already set up there from Atlanta and they were fine with taking the three of us, so after we set up Daryl’s and my tent I came here to try and get my thoughts together

“Ya okay Angel?” Daryl asked as he stood behind me wrapping his arms around my waist resting them on my tiny bump

“Just thinking about or first time here, how nervous you were, how much I realized I really love you” I said leaning back against him letting out all my stress knowing he had me

“Remembered how beautiful ya were, knew ya were the one fer me”

“How beautiful I was? Have I gotten ugly with age?” I teased

“Nah ‘course not, I got the hottest wife in the world and I ain’t letting ya go” he said as he placed a kiss to the top of my head

“We should get back, get settled for the night” I said as I held his hand scared of those “walkers” that could be wander up here

“I know it’s scary but ya gotta stay relaxed, ya know the doctor said stress is bad for the baby”

“I’m trying it’s just……a lot” we made it back to the camp and others were sitting around fires as the sun was slowly setting

I slouched next to Dale letting out an exhausted sigh letting the heat from the fire wash over me, soon Daryl came sitting by me, throwing a blanket over my shoulders and handing me a protein bar he must have packed

“You okay sweetie?” Dale asked, I only just met him but he was obviously very caring

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just a long day, glad we could get out of the town in time”

“So how do you two know eachother?” Andrea asked from across the fire

I looked at Daryl knowing he is a closed off person, being with him since we were young I forget about how he interacts with others but I understood why, he nodded giving me the okay

“We met in highschool, and have just been together since, our science teacher paired us up and changed my life for the better” I smiled remembering how cute I thought he was

“That’s so sweet, you seem like you’re perfect for eachother” Amy chimed in

I just smiled feeling Daryl squeeze my hand under the blanket so the others didn’t see, he was never big on pda

I ate my protein bar and started to feel all the stress from the day come crashing down on me so I leaned over to whisper to Daryl

“Can we go to bed?” he nodded standing up alerting the others we were leaving

“Ya better be careful” Ed said with a menacing feeling, he scared me he had this aura about him that made my skin crawl

Daryl and I walked off to our tent, where Merle was sat on a chair infront of his tent right next to ours

“Yall get nice and chummy with the camp, share fun camp stories” he mocked

“Come on Merle we need to get use to this no point in making enemies of the only people that might still be around” I said not wanting to deal with Merle’s antics right now

“Yer lucky we even helped ya out bitch” he groaned

“Shut yer damn mouth Merle” Daryl opened the tent and we left Merle to stew in his usual anger

I plopped down on the air mattress Daryl had blown up and laid blankets on, he rummaged through my bag to get my pajamas but he stopped

“Ya brought em?” He asked holding up my ballerina slippers

I don’t know why but I blushed

“Well yeah, it was the first thing you have to me” he smiled taking out my pajamas and handing them over

As I changed he took off his shirt and pants, pulling on some sweatpants, we crawled into bed laying in silence for some time

“Do you think this will all be over by the time the baby comes in 6 months?” I asked as he traced patterns around my belly

“I don’t know Angel, but we’ll figure something out, now get some sleep”

“Okay class keep working on your test I’ll be right back” I said in a hurry as I raced off to the bathroom, just making it in time to throw up all my lunch

This didn’t feel like the usually stomach bug but what else could it be……..that’s when I remembered the last time Daryl and I were together, he had just got home from work and he was so worked up from his shift he didn’t even care to use a condom and just wanted to let out his stress

Now here I was after school picking up pregnancy tests from the drug mart, wondering which one would be the most accurate

“Need help?” I looked to my side to see a beautiful woman with locks in her hair and darker skin complexion

“Yes please, I’ve never had to pick before”

She handed me a rapid test in a pink box smiling like she knew how this felt

“I know what it’s like, had the same look you have now before I had my boy, you’ll be okay”

“Thanks, I’m y/n by the way, I haven’t seen you around before are you new here?”

“I’m just passing through and I’m Michonne”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, and thank you for this but I should probably go test this out”

“No problem, good luck girl”

I got home before Daryl quick to pee on the stick, waiting for the results, the box said 5 minutes and those 5 minutes were the most stressful longest minutes of my life

The timer went off, time to see if I was really pregnant, I took the test with shaky hands and flipped it over……….2 lines I was pregnant, I thought I’d be scared and knowing Daryl’s past I wasn’t sure how he’d feel but to have a little baby with the person I love most in this world just felt….right

“Angel I’m home” I heard Daryl call from the front door

I quickly put the test in my back pocket and left to greet him, nervous of how he’d feel

“Hey ya okay?” He asked always reading me like a open book

“I have something I need to tell you”

“What are ya okay?”

“I’m fine, I just want you to know that this is what I want but if you don’t want this then I don’t know I understand why you’d leave but……”

“Ya know I’d never leave ya, now tell me what’s going on, yer freakin me out”

I took the test out of my back pocket and handed it to him, his confusion very clear, he had no idea what he was holding

“What’s this?”

“A pregnancy test, it’s positive”

He didn’t say anything he just kept looking at the test, I could see the thoughts rushing in his head

“Please say something” I whimpered feeling the emotions build up in my throat

He wrapped his arms around my waist picking me up and spinning me around

“I love ya, and I’m gonna love this baby ya hear me”

I woke up to the sun shinning through the tent giving a warm glow around us, remembering the dream of tell Daryl I was pregnant, ever since seeing those people ripping flesh apart I’ve been reminiscing a lot about the past, maybe it’s because there might be a chance that I’d never get that life back, the life I fought so hard for with Daryl, the one I craved and now it felt like it was being ripped away what if this changed things between us

I rolled over feeling the bed beside me was cold and empty, but Daryl was usually an early riser, I changed into some shorts and a more fitting short sleeve shirt, hauling on one of Daryl flannels over it, leaving the tent I saw Merle and Daryl sat around a little fire between our tents

I sat beside Daryl in a chair they must have gotten from the camp

“Here have some of this” Daryl said passing me so deer jerky he packed

“Ya okay?” He asked after I hadn’t spoken for some time

“I’m fine, just been thinking about a lot of stuff”

“Worlds not about you anymore sweetcheeks, get over yerself or ya ain’t gonna last” Merle said scoffing as if this was such a normal thing to happen to the world

“Merle can you just give me a break for once” I sighed rubbing my eyes

“Stop being a princess, may have worked before when Daryl was there to protect ya all the time from the big bad world but ya gotta suck it up” it’s kind of true, I was a bit more sensitive than others but I just didn’t like confrontation and if there ever was Daryl was there like my big strong knight

“Merle we ain’t going through this again” Daryl groaned obviously sick of Merle as well

“I’m gonna go for a walk” I stated getting up to get away from this growing tension

“Take yer knife” Daryl said handing it over

I walked through the surrounding woods enjoying the silence away from Merle, the only sound I could hear was the gentle chirps of birds littered in the trees above

I found a fallen tree sitting against it, little dandelions surrounding the base, I picked a bunch putting them in my pockets, knowing they were edible and might go along way with the group

In the past I would’ve never thought this little yellow “weed” was safe to consume but after a nature survival lesson from Daryl I was basically caught up on everything you could know about the woods

“And why exactly do I have to know survival tips about the wild?” I asked looking at Daryl like he was crazy as we walked through trails for a date he planned

“If yer my girl now ya gotta be able to take care of yerself ya never know what might happen”

“Okay if you say so” I said giggling

He crouched down by a patch of dandelions picking one out and tucking it behind my ear

“Every part of them are edible, roots stem flower” he said continuing to walk

“Really but aren’t weeds bad?”

“Not these ones, trust me spending lots of time out here I’ve had to eat a fair few”

“I…….im sorry” I hated knowing he had to struggle with a neglectful family

“Ain’t yer fault……..ya know my mother woulda loved ya” he rarely talked about her but I knew what happened to her

“Really, that would’ve been nice to meet her, see the woman who made the sweetest guy I’ve ever met”

“That’s why she’d like ya, sweet girl, and because ya love me more than I deserve”

I grabbed his bicep stopping him and turning him towards me

“Don’t speak like that D, you deserve all the love the world can give, ya wouldn’t like if I talked about myself like that would you?” He lowered his head shaking it

“Nah guess not”

“Come on mountain man, show me the rest of your tips” I said and his face exploded in red

“NO NOT LIKE THAT, god Dixon you’re going to be the death of me” I said pushing him forward on the trail screaming internally as he laughed

After spending about half an hour sitting here I got up heading back to camp, when I turned around I heard a groan and leaves crunching it was a walker only steps away from me, I stepped back tripping over a root landing hard in my tailbone, not realizing the walker was right infront of me falling ontop of me, it jaws snapping in my face, using all the strength I had to hold it back, I lifted my leg up kicking it over and off me, quickly taking out my knife driving it through its head ceasing its movement, I looked down over my first splattered with blood, the adrenaline still coursing through me I ran back to the camp past everyone to where Daryl was still sitting by our tent

“Angel what the hell happened” he asked standing up looking at me with horror

“A walker…..” I gasped

He ran his arms all over my body checking for bites, I tried to reassure him I wasn’t bite but for his peace of mind I let him continue

“Ya killed it?” Merle asked from next to us

“Guess I’m not that weak after all”

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[cheriedarliingz]

i love being cared for and spoiled just as much as the next lesbian, but it's so important to do the same for the other person in the relationship.

helping them out when they've had a bad day, give them a shoulder to cry on or a neck to hide their face in, reassure them that they'll be ok no matter how much the world feels like it's crashing down on just them and them alone. or if they're not that much into physical touch, just lending an ear helps. even if you can't give them great advice, just being there and letting them get their bad day off their chest says a lot, and it means even more. and some people don't like to talk about their bad days. that's ok too. sometimes it's just space that they need but sometimes they just need to be distracted from their bad day. indulge in some of their favorite hobbies with them, watch a comfort show/movie of their's, cook them their favorite meal.

remembering the little things and doing them just because. adding in small details that you've remembered they hold so dear to their heart for whatever reason. it always feels good to know you're actually being listened to.

can we pls normalize femmes paying for stuff? just a little bit???? please queens/kings????? listen guys, i'm not complaining if you want to take care of me financially, i am a broke bitch! but WHEN i do have money, (not very often😞) at least let me buy you some ice cream with it or SOMETHIN'- PLEASE! i know ice cream isn't a super big responsibility but it's always felt weird to me seeing the relationship dynamic where one person supports themselves and their partner financially, and the partner doesn't even reciprocate it occasionally???? THIS IS NOT ME DEMONIZING THIS LIL DYNAMIC OR WTV, i just personally do not vibe with it. but do whatever makes you happy, bbgs. i know there are other ways of taking care of someone other than supporting them financially but i'd love to even be able to do it just once in a while, if not all the time. (all the time is not likely bcs once again i can't save money for shit....)

i know i mentioned this for like five seconds in my first or second lil paragraph but cooking is such a reassuring thing to do. cooking someone their favourite meal or just any meal is a love language that we look past too often and i am sick of it!!!!! (this is coming from someone who tried to make homeade hamburger helper with burrito beef two nights ago btw... don't look at me.) it's such a quiet way of love admittance. but then genuineness is there and it's abundant. mostly if your partner is of culture, i bet that would be an amazing and quite heartwarming surprise for them to see. (meow:3)

i could go on and on and on about reciprocity but it's 2am and i don't feel like writing anymore...

⁻ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ᵃ ᵐᶦⁿᵒʳ, ᵐᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵈⁿᶦ ᵃᶜᶜˢ ᵈⁿᶦᵎ

#lesbian #femme lesbian #femme #femme4masc #femme4butch #femme4femme #butch4femme #butch4butch #butch bait #butch lesbian #butch #masc lesbian #trans masc #masc4femme #masc4masc #masc4brat #masc4all #masc4butch #stud4femme #stud4stud #butch4brat #butch4both #butch4all #sapphic wlw #wlw sfw #sapphic #wlw post #dykeposting #wlw #sapphic writing

[gabby294]

You Look So Pretty, Pretty Like The Sun - Chapter 3

Buck glanced down at the navigation as he pulled up to a quiet cul-de-sac. The houses in the neighborhood were mostly two-story with neat front lawns, but he was searching for a specific one towards the end of the driveway.

As the sun began to peek over the horizon, he parked his jeep and pulled out his phone. Just as he was about to hit send, he heard the door of the house slam shut, the sound muffled by the car. He looked up to see Tommy locking it up. The house looked simple and cozy from the outside, with a freshly cut lawn.

Buck smiled to himself as he watched Tommy lightly jog to his jeep with a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. He tossed it into the back seat before sliding in beside him. Buck was greeted with a light kiss, tasting the remains of Tommy’s mouthwash on his lips.

“Good morning,” Buck hummed out, pleased. He could definitely get used to being greeted like that every morning.

“Got you a coffee. Figured I need you wide awake for our lesson.”

“Thanks Evan,” Tommy smiled softly, taking off the lid and taking a sip.

“Am I closer this time?” Buck asked as he pulled down the handbrake and set off to drive.

“Better than the first.” Tommy replied simply, not giving any other hints. Buck had tried to guess the order three times already, with little luck. But he didn’t mind; it was becoming more of a fun challenge than a source of insecurity. And so far, Tommy didn’t seem bothered either. He would drink the coffee regardless and encourage Buck to try again.

It was nice when their schedules matched. With both of them working in the late afternoon, Tommy offered to start teaching him some flying lessons that he promised when they met.

They spent the drive mostly listening to the radio with occasionally Tommy pointing out which turn to take to beat the traffic. Buck found himself growing more comfortable with the silence that would settle between them. It felt natural and over time he stopped feeling like he had to fill every moment with conversation. Embarrassingly, Tommy had to gently point that out when Buck became restless when they first started hanging out at his loft.

“Evan, you can relax.” Tommy squeezed his hand. “I like having you around. But you don’t need to entertain me all the time. Your presence is more than enough for me.”

——————

They pulled into the harbor and stepped out of the car. Tommy led them to one of the light-duty stationary helicopters and unlocked it.

“You have the keys?” Buck asked surprised. Granted he didn’t know the policies but he hadn’t expected Tommy to have access to the helicopter keys.

“Yeah, captain got sick of me bothering him constantly for the keys whenever I fly for fun.” Tommy explained as he got into the cockpit.

Buck quickly followed suit and buckled himself in.

“I guess I should start from the beginning,” Tommy said, passing him the headset. “So, I hope you are excited about pre-flight checks.”

Tommy proved to be an amazing flying instructor, meticulously going through each part of the demonstration with detail and seriousness. At first, Buck thought that he would show few things, maybe some simple controls or what something meant. He was quickly proven wrong.

Tommy went through his usual routine, explaining each step and why it was important. Everything from checking instrumentation, avionics, and flight controls to why some helicopters need to a brief warm-up period after engine start to allow the engine to reach optimal operating temperature. And it didn’t stop once they were airborne. After settling at a safe altitude and airspeed, Tommy demonstrated how to monitor the systems before inviting Buck to try piloting.

“Wait, are you serious?” Buck asked, grinning excitedly.

“Well, I won’t give you the full controls just yet.” Tommy smiled, shifting in his seat to give Buck room to reach over. Buck placed his hands, albeit a little hesitant, on the cyclic control. Tommy's warm hands covered his own and guided him through the controls with light touches. It felt surreal, not only because Buck had never flown anything before but also because of the intimacy of Tommy being right beside him. Tommy was patient and gentle, showing him the appropriate amount of strength to use.

Most importantly, Buck could see the passion and knowledge radiating off the man beside him. Piloting wasn’t just a job for Tommy did to earn money. It was an extension of him. Buck stared at him in awe, chest filling up with amazement.

“That was truly extensive,” Buck commented once they touched down back at the harbor. “I should have brought a notebook.”

“Sorry,” Tommy rubbed his neck, looking sheepish. “I know, I can get intense about flying.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s uh, It’s cute,” Buck grinned. It was becoming so much easier to compliment the man, especially when Tommy would offer such a soft smile in return. “Besides, you should see me with a clipboard. Now that’s intense.” Buck chuckled. He knew he could be a menace with it.

“Oh, believe me, I have been extensively warned to not give you one.” Tommy laughed shaking his head.

“What? By who?” Buck asked suspiciously. It was one of the downsides of Tommy knowing half the team; any of them could tattle on him.

“My lips are sown shut.” Tommy replied, mimicking his lips being zipped shut.

———

On the day of Chimney’s bachelor party, Buck found himself with a few free hours to spare before heading over to the hotel. It was an easy choice on how he wanted to spend it. Tommy had a night shift prior and was now awake and planning to work on fixing up a dresser he found listed on Facebook Marketplace.

Turning off the engine, Buck stepped out of the jeep to see that both the house door and detached garage was wide open. Old rock music was softly playing from the speaker somewhere inside the house. Tommy's back was turned to him as he focused on the dresser positioned on the lawn, his hands moving with purpose as he tackled the project. Buck took a moment to enjoy the view. Tommy was dressed in a simple pair of burgundy jogger shorts and an old band t-shirt that hung loosely on him.

With a smile, Buck approached him.

“That’s a sweet dresser,” He commented looking it over. It was a three-drawer maple dresser, painted in a colour that was somewhere between light blue and gray. The drawers were open, revealing wallpaper stuck on the sides, while the top boasted a light wood stain.

“It will be a sweet dresser once I rescue it from this god awful pain job.” Tommy corrected, as if the colour choice was personally offensive.

“How can I help?” Buck offered, lightly stretching out his limbs.

“You sure?” Tommy lifted his head, squinting against the sun.

“I’m at your service, if you’ll have me.”

“Always, Evan.” The tone in Tommy’s voice sounded so genuine that Buck couldn’t help but smile shyly.

Buck wasn’t much into DIY projects. Hell, he barely changed anything inside the loft since he moved in. But he had to admit it was pretty fun going through the motions of sanding down the surface and helping out with applying the finish. Well, he left the latter mostly to Tommy; his skill in applying coats of stain was sorely lacking. He was more than happy to watch as Tommy worked, singing the lyrics lowly under his breath.

They left the dresser to dry and went inside. Tommy’s place was different than Buck’s loft but in a nice sort of way. Buck could describe the house as cozy. The walls wore a simple taupe hue, complemented by warm hardwood floors and exposed wooden beams overhead. Unlike Buck, who still lacked a couch, Tommy’s overstuffed grey couch looked incredibly inviting, adorned with a few plush pillows and a draped blanket. A simple stone fireplace stood nearby. The kitchen, though smaller than Buck’s, lacked an island counter but boasted a simple circular wooden table.The entire place wasn’t cluttered, likely a habit from Tommy’s military days, but subtle personal touches made it feel uniquely his own. In particular, a book case that stood in the living room caught Buck’s eye. In particular, a bookcase in the living room caught Buck's eye. Instead of books, it displayed an array of completed model aircraft sets and even a few lego sets.

“Can you guess that I like aircrafts?” Tommy joked as he noticed Buck examining the sets.

——-

“You have to go,” Tommy murmured against Buck's lips, sending shivers down his spine. Buck’s lips were tingling, as he chased Tommy’s for another kiss. Tommy was intoxicating, overwhelming any sense of urgency, drawing Buck deeper into their embrace.

Buck knew he had to start heading out; the hotel they booked for Chimney’s bachelor’s party was halfway across the city. Yet, he couldn’t care less at the moment, especially when Tommy’s body was pressed so close against him. He was right where he wanted to be, especially with Tommy's warmth enveloping him.

“Do I?” Buck sighed. His hands wandered over the muscles of Tommy’s toned back, the shirt long gone and forgotten on the floor somewhere. “I could come up with an excuse.” "Chimney will have our heads if I keep you any longer," Tommy replied, desire spilling into his voice.

“We're talking too much about him," Buck declared, his lips trailing down to Tommy's neck, eliciting a soft sigh from the man beneath him. Pride filled him, pleased with himself that he could get Tommy to react. Buck shifted even closer, practically straddling Tommy's lap as he leaned further into the couch. His hands firmly placed on Buck’s hips, leaving no space between them. Heat prickled across Buck’s cheeks as he felt the unmistakable firmness pressing against his inner thigh, but it couldn’t compare to the fire pooling low in his belly. The hands on Buck’s tightened and a strangled moan escaped him as Tommy shifted and experimentally grounded his hips against Buck’s.

Nipping at Tommy's neck, Buck shifted his hips, seeking more contact

“That okay?” Tommy breathed out, his voice husky. He didn’t do it again, clearly waiting for Buck to answer. Buck’s chest filled with warmth as he lifted his head to look at Tommy. Despite the glossy eyes and tousled hair, Tommy looked at him with such softness, it took Buck’s breath away. Looking at Tommy like this, he was certain that he will be the death of him.

“I’ll murder you if you stop.” He grunted out and crashed their lips together again.

After some time, still dazed and running late, Buck grabbed his keys from the counter. He lingered for a moment, not wanting to leave. If he was being honest, all he wanted was to lay down and take a nap with Tommy. He was no stranger to wanting to keep touching his partners after mind-blowing orgasms, but with Tommy his neediness went haywire. He had already spent a while, boneless and clinging to Tommy on the couch, before reluctantly parting to clean up. It really didn’t help that Tommy didn't seem bothered by the sticky mess between them; he simply wrapped him up in his arms and sighed contently, closing his eyes. For the first time in his life, Buck was the one being held instead of doing the holding and he couldn’t get enough. Something was stirring inside him, a feeling he hadn’t felt in so long, if ever, forming but he was too terrified to examine it too closely.

With a sigh, Buck headed towards the door, Tommy following closely behind.

“I’ll text you tomorrow. I can, uh, try and pick you up? If I’m not dying?” Buck asked as he turned to face Tommy who hadn't bothered to put his shirt back on. He really didn’t help Buck to leave, looking all relaxed and undeniably hot.

“We’ll see how you feel,” Tommy replied simply, reaching out to gently cup Buck's cheek. He pulled him into another kiss, this one much softer than their earlier ones. Too quickly for Buck's liking, Tommy pulled away, their eyes meeting.

A flicker of a frown appeared on Tommy’s face, something at the tip of his tongue. Buck could see he wanted to say something. But the moment passed and instead Tommy offered him a small, somewhat tense, smile. “Have fun, Evan.”

——

Finally arriving at the hotel, Buck couldn't summon an ounce of apology, even as Chimney, Albert and Eddie ribbed him for abandoning them. He mumbled a few weak excuses, accepted a shot of tequila, and headed off to change for the night's theme. When he returned, he found them staring at him with raised eyebrows. He waited them to say something, but they kept staring.

“What?” Buck asked, frowning. Did he have something on his face?

Eddie and Chimney exchanged a knowing glance before telling him to check the mirror.

He glanced at the mirror. Just over the shirt’s collar, a small but deep hickey peeked out. He tilted his head and lightly traced his fingers over the mark, surprised that he hadn't noticed it earlier. He briefly wondered if the placement of it was accidental, if Tommy didn’t realise that it would be visible in the heat of the moment. A part of him, more selfish one, hoped that Tommy had left it there deliberately. That he wanted everyone to know that Buck was taken.

“If I knew you two would act like lovesick high school couples and rub it in everyone’s faces, I would have never introduced you.” Chimney shook his head with exasperation, though a hint of amusement danced in his eyes.

“We uh,” Buck waved his hand weakly. “We didn’t really talk about it.”

They were taking things slow, getting to know each other. It was too soon. Yet, with every small date and hangout, the thought of them being official grew bigger and bigger inside. He was able to keep it out of his head whenever they were together, too focused on actually being in the moment. But every time they separated, the longing came back full force. They would be so good together.

But there was also a part of him consumed with a nagging fear whenever he thought about it. He also didn’t want to think, to imagine that maybe Tommy didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t want to entertain the thought that maybe he wasn’t the only guy in Tommy’s life. Maybe he was just a passing fling, someone to keep things light until a more a more serious, experienced guy comes around. Someone who didn’t just discover his own sexuality in his 30s and actually knew how navigate a relationship. Someone who knew how to treat Tommy the way he deserved, without being awkward and messy like Buck. The heaviness settled in his heart as he swallowed, trying to ease the ache.

He wouldn’t blame Tommy. In fact, he would understand and support it completely, even if it meant stepping aside and watching from the sidelines. Even if it would destroy Buck on the inside. Until then, he could pretend they were together, that Tommy wanted him as much as he did, that there was a possibility of a future. He’d lie to himself until the truth hit him in the face. Buck wasn’t about to shatter his dreams by asking Tommy what they were. He'd enjoy their time together until Tommy left him behind.

Buck felt a hand clasp his shoulder, pulling him away from his spiraling thoughts. Looking up, he saw Eddie smirking at him.

“Really? Because it looks like Tommy is making quite the statement,” Eddie teased with a smirk.

Before he could reply, another shot of Tequila was passed into his hands. He knocked it back, enjoying the slight burn as it went down his throat.

Tonight will be great. What’s the worst that could happen?

——

Link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55256683/chapters/140743570

#911 abc #911 show #911 spoilers #buck x tommy #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #tevan

[roboneco]

Who sent the email to Sam?

It was "from Jon" as Sam said, or at the very least it seemed like that. It is only a name. Could be "him". Could be fake. But why the name Jon, specifically?

First, all we know about the email is that it was sent with a name, an address, and from an internal email. The name and address being of Gerry specifically, and not of Gertrude because she's not who Sam asked for. That's it.

Here's where I got confused. Why exactly did Sam ask Gerry about the magnus institute?? From this alone, this shouldn't occur to him. Maybe he researched the name and ,as he claimed then, found a list of the kids who were there.

But...well... while Sam is competent & of course he was always obsessed with the institute after what happened to him....if he had a way to find the list himself, do you think he would have waited until someone sent him an email to go look for answers??

Of course not! He'd have already checked every single name on the list! Or at least looked for better leads than just begging people to trauma dump on him. I think someone else gave him the list. Or really the idea to ask about the list.

(I for some reason can't upload pictures so I'll settle for copy pasting the parts I want).

SAM: Right. Of course. I was wondering if you knew anything about the Magnus Institute?

SAM: I was on one of their gifted kids programs and – um – I got hold of a list of a few of the other kids, and thought it might be nice if we could get in contact, swap stories and that…

GERTRUDE: I see. Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t think Gerry can help you –

GERRY: (casually) Yeah, I barely remember any of it.

SAM: Oh, so you were a candidate?

To me it sounds like Sam was winging it. He hesitated before mentioning the list as if he wasn't sure it existed. he then seems almost surprised when Gerry confirms he was in the institute.

My guess is he never saw the list! My guess is whoever sent Sam the email had heard about his connection to the institute, and sent him a lead vague enough not to cause suspicion to who may have sent it & THEN personally planted in his head the idea that the lead & institute were connected.

Now, who do we know that: knows of the name Jon, interested in the magnus institute, and Sam trusts enough to listen to their advice about something he already wanted to do?

Bingo. It is Celia. Celia is the one who sent the Jon email & I have more proof.

1- this exchange right after leaving Gerry's house:

SAM: …Thanks for coming with me, Celia. I know we’ve only been working together a few weeks.

CELIA: Hey, it was my idea, remember?

hm? Your idea you say. good to know, bestie!

2- it makes sense for her to use any name really. I don't think it matters. But we should remember that when she listened to her first case (by Chester) right after that Sam got his email. Literally in the same episode.

3- she was in a podcast with Georgie in this world (as far as Sam & google know at least) so it makes sense for her to be able to search & find the list!!

4- this is weak but well.... She works in the OIAR... She has an internal email and could make another one (or hack her way through or something).

I am sure there are other things that I just can't remember right now but anyway that leaves some questions

Why did she take the painting?

Why Gerry? I understand how she could find the list but why choose him? I doubt either Melanie or Georgie mentioned him before. Was it random? Plot reasons? Or maybe her target wasn't Gerry, but Gertrude.

She could know about Gertrude. She was the last archivist after all. But she wants a reason to go without someone suspecting her personally. So after some research (stalking) figures out she has a roommate. And hey would you look at that. The guy's name is in the list of kids experimented on by the magnus institute. And oh? Who is also on the list? Her new coworker. Now isn't that a funny coincidence! It would be a shame if someone were to.... Maybe.... Use this opportunity for totally, definitely ethical reasons.....such as sending Sam a little email & connecting him with an old friend!

I think of this because Celia is the one who asked Gerry if he lives alone. She directed the conversation to ask about Gigi.

Anyways I had maaaannny more thoughts about this. Alas, I am tired & going to bed.

Have I mentioned that Celia lives I'm my head rent free. Sorry, wanted to say it, in case it wasn't obvious.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp theory #celia ripley #samama khalid #sam khalid #This should have been posted along time ago #But I needed to articulate my thoughts #Into something semi comprehendable #The Magnus protocol theory

[goodthingscomeinthrees]

wait (just a little while)

law & order: svu | elliot x olivia | g, 3k, complete

They’ve talked a few times, since he’s been back.

#law & order: special victims unit #law & order: svu #svu #law & order: organized crime #law & order: oc #oc #svu fic #law & order: svu fic #olivia benson #elliot stabler #olivia x elliot #eo #bensler #eo fic #bensler fic #writing #randall stabler #listen no one is more surprised than me that this is a thing i have written

[hephaestuscrew]

Montage of Minkowski saying Eiffel's name

This includes at least one clip from every episode except for Cigarette Candy, Don't Poke the Bear, and Time to Kill (Minkowski doesn't appear in those), and Idle Hands (she doesn't say Eiffel's name in that - it's when she's under Pryce’s mind control).

I was aiming to put in only one clip per episode, but there were a few where I felt the need to put multiple clips, so there's 3 from Do No Harm, 2 from Who's There, 4 from Limbo, 2 from Bolero, and 6 from Brave New World.

I've also made an edit for the other side of the story

#Please listen to this #it took me quite a while ngl #Admittedly I did just want to have it for myself tho #it's like a workout for my emotions #How many Minkowski & Eiffel feelings can I fit into less than 3 minutes? #They just went through so much together... #I love that most of these are either her being annoyed at him and her being terrified for his safety #Extremely on brand for them #I cba to write out proper context for all of these #but if anyone wants to be reminded the context for a particular clip #feel free to ask #If you can recognise the context for them all you deserve a prize lol #w359 #Wolf 359 #Doug Eiffel #Renée Minkowski #The fact that the only episodes where she doesn't say his name are ones where she doesn't speak or is under mind control #is not surprising but still makes me feel things #I was gonna make this just her saying his name and nothing else #but then I felt like often the name has more impact as part of a line #and also my audio editing abilities aren't very precise #the empty man posteth #Eiffel & Minkowski

[lottalove01]

rant <3

#so i told my friend im thinking abt engaging more in my christian community again starting w going to church more and visiti g exchanges etc #she kniws abt basically all my other friends being more than less religious and active in their respective communities #+ my family being religious even during soviet times and she even kniws abt the orthodox side of my family #so this shouldnt surprise her this much #why is she trying to talk me out of it saying christianity is evil and she cant agree to creationism like ok bitch me too #she acting as if im gonna become some republican american blonde woman or an primitive medieval peasant wthhh #and like i get it she and her family have always been agnostic and she doesnt have any personal experience with believe and faith #but that is even more reason to shut the hell up?? especially bc i just told her as like a life update i didnt want to start a discussion #w an agnostic no less #ppl like that make me so uncomfortable and then she kept saying things like this person is godless as a joke like stfu??? #and kept bringing up she csnt believe in god at random times it made me so umcomfortable #especially bc now i feel hesitant to invite her to hangouts w my more 'strict' friends like idk what she thinks abt them and i dont want to #expose my friends who have to listen to enough shit to someone like that like i want my home to be a safe space for my friends #anyways thats the same girl who keeps telling me she doesnt think im white and when i tell her her saying this makes me uncomfortable #shes argues its ok bc she is not white herself ok wth im literally german/slavic how is that not white im crying #cant really articulate what exactly makes me uncomfy abt this but feels like she wants to enable me its really weird #also with tge christian stuff like ive always been religious she kniws abt me reading religious texts its so weird to me #why are you my friend if you disagree with a foundamental part of my life #maybe she thoight i was an ok one bc me and my familys approach to believe and faith is very relaxed but wth man