#mom asked if i’d be getting another dog. EXCUSE FUCKING ME. she isn’t even cold yet

[there-must-be-a-lock]

wings & the way down - part 2

Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~1580 this chapter

Warnings: Mild angst. Allusions to ~mysterious~ backstory. Strangers with cookies. 

A/N: Thank you all for your lovely comments on the last part! Catch up here if you missed it. Tag list for this is open. 

Friday, January 3: Derek

Derek is playing it cool. 

Or... he would be, if he could stop freaking the hell out. Whatever. 

He wants to be there early, just in case, and he hesitates. He should grab his basketball — tryouts next week, he should be practicing as much as possible — but then he’d have to carry it around while they walk. He grabs his dog-eared copy of Slaughterhouse-Five instead. 

Spencer seems like a reader. Maybe he’ll be impressed. Derek doesn’t have much experience trying to impress adorably geeky college guys, but that seems like a good start. 

He looks at himself in the mirror one more time and thinks, I can’t do this. 

Then he shakes it off, like he’d shake off the nerves before a big game, and he gives his reflection a smile. What’s the worst that can happen, right? He embarrasses himself in front of a pretty boy, he avoids the park, he never sees the guy again. After the year he’s had, some good old-fashioned rejection would be a cake walk. 

Playing it cool. He can do this. 

He walks downstairs, locking up behind himself and leaving the spare key in its spot — its “hidden” spot, which is a totally obvious fake rock, but apparently here in the suburbs you can just do that sort of thing. 

He walks, enjoying the sun, because January here feels like Chicago’s April. He’s not going to get used to this any time soon. 

Yeah. This was the right choice. 

You deserve to do it on your own terms, his mom said, when she hugged him goodbye in the airport. You can be whoever you want. 

It didn’t feel like he was trying to be someone else yesterday, though. It felt like he was being himself. 

He didn’t realize it could be easy like that, flirting with a guy, teasing and laughing and making Spencer smile. The stupid line came out like it was nothing. The fear only kicked in afterward. 

Derek knows he’s charming as fuck; he’s been making girls smile like that since he was fourteen. And it’s not a skeevy thing — not even necessarily a sex thing — he just likes making people smile. He likes the way they stand a little straighter when you compliment their shirt, or the way they bring a hand to the back of their neck when you admire their hair, and the way one nice comment can startle someone right out of a bad day. 

Speaking of. 

He’s walking into the park, now, and there’s a girl walking toward him, blonde with pink streaks in her high pigtails, wearing thick neon pink glasses and several violently colorful patterns. She looks like Miss Frizzle’s ditzier sister. He kinda loves it. 

“I like your glasses,” he tells her cheerfully, as they come face-to-face on the path. 

 Most people look startled, at first, when a stranger compliments them; they’re caught off-guard. Spencer looked like a deer in headlights, yesterday, when Derek caught his attention. 

Not this girl, though. Without missing a beat, she tosses back, “I like your face, sugar.” As their paths cross, she gives him a cheesy over-the-top wink. 

He retorts over his shoulder, “I ain’t that sweet, babygirl.” 

“I don’t believe you,” she sing-songs, and he’s laughing as they both continue on their way. 

Derek makes his way over to the same spot as yesterday, a round table between two curved benches. He pulls out his book and settles down to wait. Spencer isn’t there yet (which makes sense, considering that “same time” meant “two-ish” and it’s more like one-ish right now) but there are two older men playing chess at one of the tables nearby. Otherwise, it’s quiet: two women jogging, a few families on the playground, a guy throwing a ball for his dog. 

For a while, it’s actually a pretty awesome way to spend an afternoon. He doesn’t really notice how much time has passed until he shifts, stretching some cramped muscles. Then he checks his watch. 

They didn’t really set a definite time, though. It was vague. It’s not a big deal. 

Twenty minutes is a normal amount of time to be late. Derek has pulled that move on more than one first date — which begs the question: is this a date? — but he didn’t expect Spencer to be the type, somehow.  

He starts to get anxious around half past. He can think of a dozen excuses Spencer might use, but they’re all excuses he’s used himself, and they all boil down to I don’t actually care. 

He turns back to his book and tries to forget about the time.

At three, after re-reading the same page for the fourth time, he accepts that it’s a lost cause. He sets the book down on the bench and rests his face in his palms for a moment, taking a deep breath. 

Fuck. He is so not playing it cool. 

There was something about Spencer that Derek can’t stop thinking about, and it’s not his bone structure or his eyes or the way his fingers looked as he fiddled with his chess piece. It was the way he blushed and stuttered, completely flustered and unable to hide it, and the way he brushed it off with, “I’m not used to being flirted with.” It was a genuine reaction. He was being honest. He wasn’t trying to pose or posture or do any of the things Derek would’ve done to protect himself. 

It was the little crease between his eyebrows as he studied Derek intently — too intent to be polite — like Spencer was figuring him out, looking under the surface, seeing him in a way that people usually don’t, because most people don’t care enough to look. Most people miss what’s right in front of them. 

It was the way he sat, legs crossed, unpretentious and almost childlike. 

It was different. He wasn’t hiding anything. Derek’s been hiding a lot, these last few years. It was nice to be around someone who wasn’t, and who made it look easy. 

And yeah, it was also his cheekbones and eyes and fingers and smile, because Derek is only fucking human. 

At quarter past, he starts to wonder what he did wrong. 

Yeah, I’m flirting with you. 

It was like a free-fall, the pause after the words, that frozen moment of can’t take it back now and this is going to change everything. It’s the same hot-cold-terrifying-exhilarating shock he felt in the pause after he came out to his mom — same as the moment right before the jury gave their verdict — same as the moment he walked into school the next day. 

But it was different, because Spencer smiled, all slow and shy. No betrayal, no creeping disgust, no pointed questions or even more pointed silence. 

That easy acceptance took Derek’s breath away. It felt like freedom. It felt like the moment the plane’s wheels lifted off the tarmac, the sickening lurch in his stomach, the blaze of something like defiance as he watched Chicago recede into the distance. 

Spencer smiled, and Derek felt like he could’ve ignored the laws of physics and flown away. If that was what “being out” usually feels like, he could see why people might want to do it. The moment of free-fall — this is going to change everything — was worth it, for that. 

This, though? There’s something cold and leaden sitting in his chest, dragging him rudely back down to earth. He should just go. This is an embarrassing amount of time to wait around for some random guy. 

“Tell me who I need to punch,” somebody calls. “A face like yours should never be frowning, sweetness.” 

It’s the colorful girl from earlier, and Derek can’t help but smile at the way she stomps over and sits down across from him, matter-of-fact and brazen like they’ve known each other for years. 

“I was just waiting for you, babygirl,” he tells her, turning the charm up to eleven, and she rolls her eyes. 

“Penelope. The pleasure is all yours.” She holds her hand out for him to shake — her nails have tiny daisies painted all over them — and Derek kisses it instead. 

“Derek Morgan. Charmed, I’m sure.” 

“So who’s the girl that’s got you all tragic-looking?” she asks, and rummages in her massive bag for a minute before pulling out a tupperware of cookies. “Want one? They’re still warm. I was at my friend’s house, she needed some cheering up, we baked. I promise I’m not some creepy creep who’s going to lure you into their white van, oh my god, I just realized that I’m a complete stranger, and this is totally weird! But — cookies?” 

“I’d follow you anywhere, babygirl. And I will totally take a cookie.” He takes a bite of melty chocolate chips and moans. “Marry me?” 

“Alas, your heart belongs to another,” she says solemnly. “I know that face. Spill.” 

“Got stood up, but...” Derek chews as slowly as he can manage. “Wasn’t a girl.” 

He’s starting to get used to that free-fall sensation. It’s not so bad this time around. 

“Oh my god, I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry! Men, right?” She heaves a dramatic sigh, and Derek tries to hide his own quiet sigh of relief. “The worst, I swear.” 

“No biggie. Other fish in the sea, right?” 

“Have another cookie.” 

“Woman, you are a goddess. I am so glad I met you.” 

“I’m glad you met me too, Derek Morgan.” 

.

.

part three here! 

.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #moreid #spencer reid #derek morgan

[figonas]

Twilight Re-watch Notes Pt. 1 - A Contest for the Worst Movie Quote in History

I'd like to think I'm funny so please enjoy my scene-by-scene notes from a recent Twilight Saga re-watch.

Hey Catherine Hardwicke, opening with the death of an animal was probably not the best choice but go off I guess??

There is a lot of general Bella awkwardness that I'm skipping over here but the scene in gym class is so horrifically, painfully uncomfortable that I almost passed out from the second-hand embarrassment.

Jessica trying her best to be fake nice to the human embodiment of a crumpled soda can: "Aren't people from Arizona like....really tan"

Bella with all the cadence of a child who just found out Santa isn't real: "yeah..I guess that's why they kicked me out"

Mike clearly just trying to get his dick wet: "HAHAH you are funny"

no mike she is not.

I'm not gonna go into the biology class scene because god knows tumblr has beaten that particular horse to death. BUT the scene in the administration office immediately after that is a TRIP. Edward has one of his most dramatic lines here when they won't let him switch classes: “I’ll just have to endure it” ?!?!?!?!?!?! This is INSANITY, he sounds like he's going to burst into tears like Edward please chill you aren't even being a little subtle.

I will never get over Bella trying to put Ketchup on her burger and then just???? giving up???? when it doesn't come out after she limply shakes it approximately once.

“HOW YOU LIKIN DA RAIN GIRL” Is our first contender for the worst and most unnatural line in movie history, and trust me there are plenty more.

Bella accusatorily saying “you were gone” to Edward as if this dude who she met for approximately 30 minutes 2 weeks ago owes her even a PALTRTY SCRAP of an explanation about anything???????

Actually, this whole scene is a horrific nightmare of awkward intrusive conversation:

“You’re asking me about the weather” HOE WHAT ELSE ARE YOU GONNA TALK ABOUT YOU DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER

“hey did you get contacts” WHO JUST ASKS THAT?!?

and of course; “it’s the fluorescents” [RUNS AWAY]

Charlie and Bella have the only organic-sounding dialogue in the entire movie. Any awkwardness they have is BELIEVABLE father-daughter awkwardness and not like "I'm being forced to film this against my will" awkwardness like every other exchange in this film series.

Bella asks Edward ALL OF ONCE about him saving her from the truck and Edward gets so haughty and smug thinking that Bella won't figure it out

“you’re not gonna let this go are you?” “no” “then I hope you enjoy disappointment” [storms off] MY DUDE LITERALLY 2 SCENES LATER SHE FIGURES IT OUT IN 3 GOOGLE CLICKS

“I had an adrenaline rush, it’s very common you can google it” contender number two for the terrible dialogue award.

Edward saying “if you were smart you would stay away from me” AFTER HE APPROACHED HER LIKE FUCK OFF [skeleton throwing its own skull gif]

Kstew got a lot of flack for her performance in this movie but when she has a good partner to exchange lines with she SHINES. The scene with Angela and her at the beach where she tells her to ask Eric to prom is GOOD. EVERY scene with Charlie in THIS ENTIRE FRANCHISE is GOOD. It is nothing but pure misogyny that Rpatz didn’t catch any flack for his truly, horrifically awkward performance

I cannot believe Stephanie thought it would be a good idea to have Edward save Bella from potentially getting gang r*ped like I get it girl is about the drama but still this is just a TOOOUCH too far

“your hand is so cold,” WHO SAYS THIS TO SOMEONE THEY BARELY KNOW COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED???

SHE TRIES TO REFUSE CARRYING BEAR MACE WHEN SHE WAS ALMOST R*PED NOT 4 HOURS PREVIOUSLY LIKE SIS CARRY A KNIFE?!?!?!?!?

The “you’re impossibly fast & strong” monologue is so bad I want to barf

“I’ve killed people before” “doesn’t matter” BITCH YES IT DOES WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

“MY OWN PERSONAL BRAND OF HEROIN” IS SO BAD. Like we all recognize how bad this is right? Especially when one considered the target demographic for these films, i.e. teenage girls, have NO FUCKING FRAME OF REFERENCE FOR THIS WHAT.SO.EVER.

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb” YOU’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR ALL OF 3 SECONDS I CAN’T WITH Y'ALL. AT LEAST THE BOOK HAD SOME BUILD-UP JESUS GEEZUS

Who thought this meadow scene was a good idea, they need to be sent straight to hell. WHY ARE THEY LAYING DOWN LIKE, SIT MAYBE?????? IT’S SO WEIRD AND UNNATURAL THEY LOOK LIKE DOLLS I HATE IT

The scene where they get out of the car and Edward puts his arm around Bella while Spotlight by Mutemath plays in the background is TOP TIER teen drama bs and I love it. Far and away the best shot in the movie apart from The Baseball Scene(TM).

I will never get over the fact that Edward's bitch ass rats Bella out for already eating when she comes over to meet his family. BE FUCKING COOL EDWARD FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, GOD!!!

Esme is too pure for this world I can’t deal with her, & Emmet waving the knife is my favorite thing in all 5 of these movies

Why tf are Alice and Jasper fucking off doing god knows what in a tree and not helping with dinner like everyone else? Y'all ain't special even Rosalie is helping

Esme talking to Rosalie “Clean this up..now” I LOVE YOU BE MY MOM

Earlier they talk about the fact that vampires don’t sleep BUT the first thing Bella says when she walks into Edward's room is “no bed” girl we know what you after you ain't slick.....

WHAT IS THIS DANCING SCENE IN HIS BEDROOM IT’S HORRIBLE TO WATCH and I want to find whoever thought “well I could always make you” was a good line for Edward to say and slap them directly in the mouth.

“hold on tight spider monkey” excuse me while I VOMIT

Mike offering his opinion on Bella dating Edward HOWEVER justified is automatically invalidated by A. his own romantic interest in Bella and B. the fact that he has also know Bella for all of 10 minutes & has no bearing on her personal life whatsoever

THE PAST COUPLE OF MONTHS THIS MAN HAS BEEN COMING INTO HER ROOM AND WATCHING HER SLEEP THIS IS RED FLAG CITY LIKE BELLA WATCH A TRUE CRIME DOCUMENTARY OR READ THE NEWS FOR FUCKS SAKE

THIS FRANCHISE HAS THE MOST HORRIBLE KISSING SCENES IN MOVIE HISTORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CAN HEAR LITERALLY EVERY BREATH, EVERY AWKWARD PRESS OF LIPS. You're telling me THIS was the best take of this???? CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW AWKWARD THIS WAS TO FILM

The whole scene when Bella is telling her dad about her date with Edward is absolutely god tier. Charlie snapping the barrel of the shotgun closed, him motioning that he has a halo on, asking her if she still has her pepper spray. BILLY BURKE LIFTED THIS MOVIE UP AND TRIED SO HARD TO CARRY IT ON HIS BROAD, MUSTACHIOED DAD SHOULDERS, WE STAN

WHERE TO START WITH THE BASEBALL SCENE:

Supermassive Black Hole in the background, Alice going AWF with her pitching, Rosalie getting all pissed when Bella says she's out and Emmett yells "c'mon babe it's just a game" like the puppy dog of a person (vampire?) he is, CARLISLE WEARING A SCARF WHILE PLAYING BASEBALL, I WILL NEVER EMOTIONALLY RECOVER FROM JASPERS BAT TRICKS, EMMET AND EDWARDS LAUGH AFTER CRASHING INTO ONE ANOTHER.

A TRULY IMMACULATE MOVIE SCENE. This scene isn’t long enough

“My monkey man” might be the worst line in this movie, I’m so torn between which one is the worst. Also, I'm just now realizing that this is the second time someone has compared a loved one to some type of monkey and I really don't like it.

Bella's defeated “I can’t hurt him” breaks my heart every time. AND FUCKING BILLY BURKE pulling out his acting chops with Charlie’s poor little broken sounding “I know I’m not that much fun to be around we can do more stuff together” & “I just gotcha back” LIKE LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SCENE HURTS ME ON A PHYSICAL LEVEL AND I AM ENTITLED TO FINANCIAL COMPENSATION

I know I've skipped over a lot but it's just a lot of like star wipe level montage of nonsense, so we are mOVING ON to what is possibly the biggest plot hole I've never recognized before now: How in the hell was James planning on luring Bella out if he didn’t find that videotape of Bella's mom looking for her????? Or was he just going to bust up in the holiday inn, metaphorical guns blazing & toss Bella out a window???

This fight scene between James & Edward is VERY poorly choreographed and you can practically see the stunt wires pulling on their clothes but no one is surprised..this is Twilight after all.

Who the fuck starts the fire in the ballet studio if Carlisle & Edward are with Bella, Jasper and Emmet are holding James's arms and Alice is ripping his head off???? Esme and Rosalie aren't there so the only explanation is that Emmett's power Stephanie never told us about is his ability to start small, controlled, indoor bonfires with his mind.

If Bella was losing blood from her femoral artery it is HIGHLY UNLIKELY that she would have been cognizant enough to tell them her hand was burning + THERE’S A BIG ASS BITE HOW DID THEY MISS IT???

Let Me Sign is such a good fucking song. Actually, while we're on music every song on every Twilight Saga soundtrack SLAPS. At least 1 department at Summit Entertainment was staffed with competent people. (side note, why the fuck do I know the studio by name that made this movie. I need to go lie down)

Bella acting a damn fool in the hospital bed like clingy much

CHARLIE IS SUCH A GOOD DAD FUCK!

The Edward/Jacob beef is so dramatic at prom can you both chill for 5 minutes we haven't even gotten to y'alls bullshit yet that's not until New Moon.

Bella really thought this mfer was gonna turn her at prom in the middle of the dancefloor??????????

Flightless Bird American Mouth. That's it, that's the bullet point

Victoria coming to prom, like we stan a dramatic bitch.

I will almost CERTAINLY post my New Moon (Extended Edition) notes in a few days. & yes I do have notes on the entire franchise.

#I had a lot more but I cut it down #a lot of my extra stuff was just talking about RPatz slipping inexplicably into a Spanish accent from time to time #no one seems to notice #but I fucking do #I hear the way he says 'so you're worried' and want to caCKLE OUT LOUD #I'm not nearly as funny as I think I am but ask me if I give a fuck #baby I will subject you to my poor humor #Twilight #Twilight Saga

[tuanhood]

35,000 ft

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: smut, angst, some fluff?, exes to lovers

warnings: 18+, language, dirty talk, cheating, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, public sex (mile high club ALERT)

word count: 9,800+

summary: two years have passed since you last saw your ex-boyfriend. when you’ve thought about running into him again, it certainly wasn’t at 35,000 ft and it certainly wasn’t like this. 

a/n: wow my longest one shot yet... UMMM it’s a little messy and all over the place but don’t hesitate to let me know what you think or if anyone wants to cry over the photos of Mark at home playing in the pool sMH. also i do not CONDONE cheating fyI 

part 2: 125 ft

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“Yes, yes, yes I’ll call you when I land…” You mumbled through the phone, half paying attention and half trying to decide which sandwich would best suit your needs. 

“Okay but seriously… call me. I hate it when you’re over there enough so not getting a call freaks me out even more.” 

You wanted to roll your eyes and gag, but you stopped yourself knowing that it wasn’t what a typical girlfriend would do when on the phone with her boyfriend. You two were supposed to still be in the honeymoon phase, not the “he gives me the ick” phase already. 

Then again, you had never even been in the “he gives me the ick” phase before. Yay for new experiences you guessed. 

“Brian, it’s so fine. It’s one of the safest cities in the world, I’ve been so many times I don’t even need a map to tell me where I’m going.” 

“I hope you still do though… Use a map. I don’t want you to get lost and I know that’s easy to do in those modern, technologically advanced smart cities.”

Being with Brian sometimes felt like there wasn’t even a fourth wave of feminism. 

You weren’t sure why you were sticking around. Part of you felt pressured because you hadn’t had any actual relationships in… well awhile and your mom was constantly asking when you were finally going to get a ring on your finger and give her a grandchild. 

Judging by all the outside influences that were currently controlling your life, it felt like maybe there isn’t a fourth wave of feminism. You were setting everyone back just based on your own sad life. Maybe it was best to just dump Brian and go back to your hook up days, the year and a half before him that was just endless amounts of sex with random guys trying to fix a piece of you that would never be put back together. 

“Y/n? Are you still there?” 

“Yup, still here Brian.” 

Even after being together for almost 6 months you couldn’t bring it in you to call him something besides his name. It was always Brian this, Brian that. Calling him a pet name made you cringe. 

Yeah… Maybe it was definitely time to break up with him. 

“Listen… I should go. I want to get something to eat before they start boarding since it’s a long one and all.” 

But you’ll just do it later. 

“Okay… sounds good. Get a small sandwich or something so you’ll feel full enough before they actually feed you on the plane.” 

Suddenly you didn’t want a sandwich. 

“Got it… Bye.” 

“Love you, bye.” 

You hear a noise letting you know the call has been disconnected and drop your hand, gripping the device at your side. 

That was another thing. Brian had told you only 3 months of dating that he loved you – to which you had responded with “oh wow… that’s- that’s… so nice of you.” Being the nice guy, he was completely fine with you not saying it back, because he felt so sure that one day you would. He understood that you had issues with a past relationship that you weren’t quite ready to let go of yet, therefore your heart wasn’t completely available. He felt with time you would give in and love him too. 

As of now you weren’t too sure… Especially if you did end up breaking up with him. At a later date and time of course. Maybe when you came back? 

Your mind went blank as you looked at the shelves of the poorly made airport food in front of you. The sandwiches that had once looked good and enticing suddenly lost their luster and the last thing you wanted to do was waste money on one. Sighing, you glanced back down at the phone in your hand. The object felt more like a heavy weight and a burden rather than just a phone. It wasn’t due to work or family; it was just all because of Brian. 

You’re startled when your phone comes to life once again under your gaze, buzzing softly. 

Brian. Remember don’t forget to text me when you board! 

It was like he had a sixth sense for whenever you were thinking of him. And to be honest it wasn’t that often. 

A couple of weeks ago you were out to lunch with a few friends from college and when updating those who you hadn’t seen in a while on the goings-on of your life, you had at first redacted the fact that you had a boyfriend completely. 

“Anyone romantic in your life?” Your friend Alice had asked you. 

Without thinking you had begun telling her how he was in game design and was from LA just like you, but soon cut yourself off before you could talk about how cute his dog was. That’s when you realized you weren’t talking about Brian. Brian was in fucking accounting, not game design and was 100% allergic to any kind of animal. When your friend asked about your love life, you had him in mind and not Brian even though so much time had gone by.

You were starting to believe that you weren’t ready for a relationship at all.

Sighing, you figured that maybe chips would be a better and less smelly option for the plane ride. Knowing yourself you would probably dig into them within the first thirty minutes of the thirteen-hour trip. 

You whip around to find wherever your newly desired snack choice could be when you catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of your eye. The goosebumps that make their way to the surface of your skin and the hair on the back of your neck standing up so eagerly causes your entire body to freeze with fear. There was only one person who made you feel this way, one person who made your blood run cold. The person you had just indirectly been thinking of.

No, no it couldn’t be. 

You’re afraid to turn around, because more than anything you don’t want to be right. If you felt stressed thinking about Brian, you were going to have a panic attack from seeing him. Pivoting yourself to the left, you bite your lip anxiously unsure of how you’re supposed to react if you are right. Taking in the sight behind you, you’re met with a father and daughter selecting candy from the shelves of the store. The individual causing your anxiety nowhere in sight. Your entire body relaxes. 

The last thing you wanted was a fiasco in the international terminal at LAX. It certainly wouldn’t do you, your family and your company any good to make headlines. It especially wouldn’t have made Brian happy; he probably would have called you a hundred times in worry. 

“I can’t fucking believe it.” 

And just like that you’re snapped out of your daze, your false security vanished, goosebumps emerging once again. This time there were no questions. That voice. It was him. 

Turning back around you find yourself under the gaze of your ex-boyfriend. Your ex-boyfriend who you haven’t seen in over two years. 

You wish you could say that time hadn’t been good to Mark, but that would be a bold-faced lie. He had somehow become even more attractive in the last two years and the only real thing that seemed different about him was his hair color. The last time you had seen him he had been blonde, but now he had opted for a dark brown color. As much as you hated thinking it, it definitely suited him.

The last two years felt like a long blur of trying to forget him and everything or everyone associated with him. Those were of course difficult things to do, many of the people in your shared three-year life with Mark becoming some of your closest allies and the fact that Mark wasn’t an easy person to erase. Since the two of you met – even when you were just friends – you had a magnetic like pull to one another that couldn’t just be forgotten and dismissed. You were even feeling it right now after everything. 

He’s wearing a tight smile, almost as if he too can’t believe you’re standing here in front of him. It was as though you were the one inconveniencing him, when he had been the one to even say something to you. If you had seen him first, you would have turned around and ran the other way pretending like it never happened. For some reason he was willing to acknowledge you. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” his tight smile soon fades away and his voice is smooth as ice, a nonchalance to it that makes you question whether he even cares about this run in.

“Me either. Good to see you… Now if you’ll excuse me…” You replied pushing past him to continue your previous task of looking for chips. Much to your dislike, he follows you as you embark on one of the aisles, your eyes scanning the items placed out oh so carefully. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I’ve been? What I’ve been up to?” 

The last you had heard of Mark was that he had moved to Beijing after being given a position at a video game development company. At first you had been surprised at Mark taking a job overseas, he had always expressed to you how even over his own dead body he would never leave LA, but ultimately him in China relieved you. No longer did you have to avoid your favorite spots in the city for boba or the park bench where you got most of you best thinking done. You didn’t even have to be worried about getting invited to a party or dinner with a friend, wondering if Mark was going to show up. With Mark gone you could freely have your life back and not walk around with the fear of running into him. But you guessed that it could only have lasted so long before fate – as cruel as she was – brought you two together again. 

“No that’s okay. I’m good,” you go down another aisle, he still follows suit.

Where were those damn chips? 

“If you’re looking for the chips, they’re over there,” he said pointing behind you to the back wall in a location that you should have noticed sooner, “and if you want your favorite brand of salt & vinegar chips, they’re on the bottom shelf.”

Your stomach churned, he thought after all this time he would be able to still just know you like the back of his hand? What snack you’re looking for? What chips you like? No way. 

Wordlessly you march to the back and stare at the shelves in front of you. You felt your hand dangerously moving forward to the bottom to grab the salt & vinegar chips Mark mentioned, but you control yourself and pull back not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Instead you opt for plainly salted kettle chips. 

“Thanks… you’ve been a big help. See you never,” you scoffed turning around to face him and pushing past him to pay for your item, leaving Mark in the dust behind you. 

“What you’re not going to even pretend that it’s nice to see me?” 

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” you practically spat at him, the father and daughter from earlier staring at the two you, the father particularly appalled for your colorful choice of language. 

Mark’s silent and you turn back to the self-checkout to scan your chips, hopeful to not think about your ex-boyfriend for the next thirteen hours. He watches you carefully as you take out your wallet to pay and tap your card against the reader. It isn’t difficult for him to sense the tension in your body, he can see it just from you performing the simple and mundane task of paying. The worst part is that he knows he’s the cause. 

Grabbing your snack, you exit the small store and Mark follows you, grabbing your wrist, he tries again, “you could say something nice? Like you care? It’s been two years y/n… Can’t we just be normal people with each other?” 

At this you feel something in you snap, “I don’t care how much time has fucking passed Mark… I’m never going to get over you just completely throwing our relationship out the window. I can’t believe I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with you… I was so fucking dumb to think you cared about me for even one minute. So, to answer your question… no we can’t just be normal people with each other. We were never normal people with each other to begin with.” 

The two of you had started off as friends, just friends. It was something new for Mark, being just friends with a girl and not having sex attached. Many people in your life warned you not to get close to him, that he was just a fuckboy who didn’t care about the emotional – it was only the physical with him. Ultimately you ignored him, becoming his friend and finding that you two just worked together. First you worked together as friends and soon you fell under his Mark Tuan spell, working together as lovers. 

Throughout your entire relationship you did your best to trust Mark, which you accomplished for the most part, but in the back of your head you would constantly hear the voices of everyone around you. You would hear the stories of the girls he had before you and how terribly he treated them, but you ignored it all. After a while you started to think of it all a little less, people even congratulating you on lasting so long with Mark – something that tended to annoy you. You knew that they didn’t see the Mark that you knew, the Mark that wanted to be something else for you, the best for you. Then after three years together, almost a month after your anniversary, you found out he had been with someone else. 

The old Mark had perhaps never truly vanished, but was just immensely good at hiding. 

Now here you were in front of him and you couldn’t tell who this Mark was. 

Mark scoffed, “you haven’t changed at all…” Now he was mad at you? “It’s probably better we just say goodbye here.” 

You rolled your eyes, “That’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time.” 

He wanted to say more, but looking at how annoyed you were at merely being close to him, he let it go. It was hard for him to understand how he was feeling. He longed for you, but he also felt a lot of anger towards you that he wasn’t sure how to control. 

Both of you stare at one another, neither of you wanting to be the first one to walk off. Without a word, you both collect yourselves and assumedly prepare to embark on your respective gates. Mark gives you a final glance with his fists now clenched in frustration and turns to walk toward his flight. 

You realize he’s going the same direction as you and you follow awkwardly behind. After a moment – as if he can sense you’re still there – he turns around and scowls at you. 

“Why are you following me?” 

You snorted, the actual audacity of Mark Tuan. This is an airport for fuckssake, you can’t control where your flight is, “as if I would ever follow you! I’m going to my gate! I think the better question is why are you following me?”

“I’m going to my gate!” 

“Okay!” You yell a little too loud, “Okay!” he repeated, matching your volume. You can sense that people are starting to stare at the two of you for your truly unprompted yelling. 

Mark looks back at you once again, rolling his eyes. The two of you may have gates in the same area, but you can’t stand to look at him any longer – much less his back which you couldn’t help but notice has become much broader. Not that you would admit it to him… or anyone. 

You pick up your pace, passing Mark and causing him to trail behind. You expect him to say some snarky remark or rude comment when you go in front of him, but instead all you hear is an annoyed groan. It’s when you finally reach your gate and sit down in the waiting area that you feel Mark is no longer right behind you, but instead frozen in the main concourse, in front of the space you’re seated in. He feels his mouth go dry and he wants to scream. All he wants is to just be rid of you, to not be forced to think of you when you’re right in front of him. He wanted to wipe his brain clean. 

It suddenly dawns you on the reason why Mark is frozen as if he can’t comprehend what he’s seeing. You stand up abruptly, “this can’t be happening.” 

He snaps out of his trance with your words and comes closer to the gate, approaching where you’re seated. You’re just about to wave your hands, warning him not to come any closer when he huffs and sits down on a chair only few away from your own. 

“You’re going to Seoul?” He says it as if you being allowed in the Korean peninsula is a disgusting idea. 

“I’ve been traveling between LA and Seoul every 2 months for the last year and a half, so yes I am. Aren’t you supposed to be going to Beijing or something?”

He smirked, “I thought you didn’t care about what I was up to?” 

“I only care if it assures that you’re as far away from me as humanely possible.”

Your ex looks at his watch and at the screen of the gate alerting passengers that boarding would begin in a few minutes, “well since you’re so curious. I didn’t like Beijing, so I found a job in Seoul that I like much better. 

“Didn’t want to come back to LA?” 

He looks back to you and you almost wish he hadn’t, “there’s not really a lot left in LA for me anymore.” 

Both of you stare at one another for a moment, and you feel your stomach flip. Does he mean what I think he means? Your eyes drift down to your lap and you feel yourself pulling out your phone, not needing any more Mark. 

You manage to pass 10 minutes this way, aimlessly refreshing your emails and ignoring Brian’s latest text asking if you’ve boarded yet. Being so engrossed in your phone, you didn’t even notice Mark’s constant glances up at you, wondering what you were looking at or who you were talking to. 

There it is again, he thought to himself, Do I care? Do I not care? What the fuck, make up your mind dude. 

When the call for First-Class boarding comes to your dismay, both you and Mark stand up. You try to just tell yourself that it’s not important, you would probably both be seated aisles apart, not having to spend any more unwarranted time together. 

Even when you’re finally on the plane and find yourself behind him once again in the aisle, you tell yourself that this will be the last moment you have to see Mark Tuan. 

“Here’s your seat sir, can I get you any drinks or snacks before take-off?” the flight attendant asked Mark when she shows him his seat. He gives this shit eating grin that makes you want to slap it off his face, you couldn’t believe he was doing this in front of you. What? Did he think he was going to get to fuck the flight attendant as an extra First-Class amenity? 

“Ah no thank you, I’m fine for now, but I’ll let you know if anything changes,” you feel awkward standing in the aisle watching this unfold, especially since you can see the attendant is giving in, blush creeping up on her face from Mark’s smooth gaze. You clear your throat, reminding her that you too are there and she quickly turns to you, an apologetic look on her face. 

“And here's your seat Miss,” she graciously steps back to let you slide into your seat and you don’t move.

This had to be a joke. 

You looked from your seat, to Mark’s and then to the flight attendant. 

“I can’t sit here... I’m sorry but there has to be another seat available.” 

“I’m sorry ma’am, but there are no other openings in First Class. We only have seats available back in economy.” 

This couldn’t be happening. You had been saving all of your miles for a First-Class upgrade for forever, there was no way you were going to give it up, “Mark move to coach.” 

“Huh? Are you joking? My company paid for this; I’m not moving back there! You move!” 

How were you supposed to sit in front of Mark Tuan for the next thirteen hours? The man who had loved you so deeply, but also caused you the most pain. 

Just as people had stared at the two of you in the terminal, the other passengers in your surrounding area were also beginning to look. Maybe if the two of you got into one of your notorious screaming matches, someone would feel bad enough and offer to trade. You couldn’t do that to someone, you wouldn’t wish being stuck next to Mark Tuan on a long-haul flight on your worst enemy. Well… Mark was your worst enemy. 

Smiling, you turn back to the flight attendant, “It’s fine… I’ll just stay here. Thank you though.” She gives you a smile, but you can sense some annoyance behind her eyes. You can’t blame her. 

Mark looks at you wide eyed, previously caught up in organizing his space, but snapping out his activities when he hears your dismissal about moving seats, “uh… what are you doing? Are you seriously going to sit here?” 

“Yes Mark. Unlike you, I paid for my seat so I’m not moving anywhere.” 

He scoffed, “Fine.” 

“Fine!” 

-- 

hour one 

“Ma’am could you tell the gentleman in 3A to stop chewing so loudly?” You asked the flight attendant, putting on the sweetest voice possible. Mark was driving you up the wall and you were only an hour into the flight. 

It was almost as though you could hear every single cough, every shifting in his seat and it was all driving you up the wall. Just knowing he was there irked you.

The flight attendant looks clueless and as she opens her mouth slowly, unsure of how to respond. You hear Mark’s low voice grumble from behind you, also addressing the attendant, “uh ma’am can you tell the lady in 2A to mind her own business, pop a xanny and just go to sleep?” 

She clearly wasn’t expecting to deal with any difficult passengers this early on in a thirteen-hour flight. For her sake you wish you could deal with Mark and be more civil, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen. 

hour three 

“Y/n…” 

Be strong, you tell yourself, don’t look back, you can get through this.  

“Y/n?” 

It’s probably not important… He just wants to annoy you. 

“Y/n!” 

Screw being strong. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Being in semi-pods in First-Class it was difficult to just whip around and face Mark, to show him your annoyance under the lights beginning to dim. 

“Do you have any extra AirPods?” 

“Why the fuck would I just carry around extra Airpods around with me? Are you an idiot?” You sneered. 

“Jesus Christ I was just asking. You don’t have to be so vicious. Maybe someone should fuck the tension out of you,” he said, mumbling the last part. He says it so quietly and so half assed that you almost think that you misheard him. 

“Choke on a dick Mark,” you replied quietly, not wanting the other passengers to hear or disturb the few who had already drifted asleep. 

He scoffed, “maybe you should be.” 

You were wrong, the Mark that you had reunited with was just the same old fuckboy Mark who didn’t give a fuck about anyone. 

Placing your AirPods in your ears, you close your eyes and ignore the rest of Mark’s efforts to speak to you, just wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up in your hotel room in Seoul. 

hour seven 

You pop your headphones out of your ears in frustration, feeling as though you hadn’t managed to get any real sleep during the hours that had passed. You look behind you to Mark’s seat, and feel relieved to see his eyes closed and a slow, shallow breath coming from his mouth. 

It felt weird to gaze at Mark and know you were no longer apart of his life. Sure, it had been two years, but you hadn’t seen  him or had to deal with the reality that there was now a separate you and a separate Mark. Two entities that had nothing to do with one another anymore. Although sometimes it felt like you were still anchored to him. 

Suddenly he shifted over onto his side, mumbling incoherent words in his sleep. The only thing you could make out was your own name. It made you feel uncomfortable, not because he was clearly dreaming about you, but you felt as though you were invading his private space, infiltrating an intimate moment. 

“y/n… please…” he mumbled. 

You felt like you’d heard enough. The flight was making you restless and you weren’t sure what you would do if you kept listening to Mark’s breathless calls for you. Standing up, you decide it’s probably best now to stretch and go to the bathroom, before you embark on your further slumber. 

When you finish up in the bathroom, you almost have a heart attack pulling back the door to be met with Mark’s tall figure.

“Oh my god you scared me,” you said placing your hand on your chest. You shake your head, stepping out of the bathroom with the door closing firmly behind you. Attempting to go back to your seat, you position yourself to move past him, but he moves along with you to keep you from leaving.

“What are you doing?” 

Mark doesn’t know what’s taken over him, he had woken up in a frenzy, his dreams not doing anything to help his mental state. He hadn’t dreamt about you in months, but of course as soon as you’re back in his life he has to have fantasies of you wrapped around him once again. It was torturous, especially with you only a few feet away from him. He dreamed about having you every way and any way, feeling like he was going crazy. When he saw you missing from your seat, he immediately got up almost as if in a sleep induced haze unable to control his actions.

"When are you going to stop pretending that you don’t want to be under me again?” he purred.

Your blood goes cold. Was he drunk? His words make you nervous, scared that someone could hear, but looking around the dark cabin it seemed as though everyone in First-Class was fast asleep. 

“Mark…” you begin, your tone clearly frustrated, but also weakening a bit, clearly evident that his words are affecting you. It had been so long since someone talked to you like this, and you felt that the hours you had spent on the plane already altering your sanity.

“You were always such a good girl for me, what changed? When did you become so stubborn? What happened to my girl who was always so willing and sweet?” 

“I was screwed over by an asshole, that’s what happened,” you mumbled trying to avert his gaze and prayed that maybe if you weren’t to look at him you could pretend that there wasn’t a part of you hanging on his every word. 

“That was in the past. I’ve changed now… But I’m still your boy. Even after two fucking years, I’m still yours.” 

You want to fight with him, say that if he was always your boy and still is then he would have never cheated on you. He would have never spent a night with someone else.  

“Let me fuck the anger out of you.” 

“What?” Okay he had to be drunk.

“You and I have too much sexual tension, and we’re both angry so let’s just fuck to relieve the tension.” 

“You’ve said some pretty fucking dumb things before, but this is… this is…” you drift unsure of what exactly you think it is. 

“A good idea?” 

“Mark I’m not having sex with you in an airplane bathroom.” 

“What? Like that’s bothered you before?” 

When you were with Mark, the two of you would have sex in the riskiest places, so you weren’t a stranger to the kind of sex where you could be caught at any moment, but you had never joined the mile-high club before. 

“We’re not together. I hate you and you hate me… for some reason.” You never understood why exactly Mark had been mad at you all of these years and acted as though you were the devil himself when he had been the one that ruined the two of you. Maybe it was because you hadn’t given him a second chance? Maybe it was from the influence of you hating him? Or maybe it was because you had never been enough for him, otherwise what would have caused him to spend the night with another woman? 

Mark clicked his tongue and it causes you to bring your attention to his mouth. It almost makes you lose focus completely. “So what if we’re not together anymore? Does that matter?” 

Does that matter? 

His words make you remember something. Something very important. 

Brian. 

“Yes, it matters. I-I have a boyfriend,” for some reason the word “boyfriend” seems to be hard to get out. It was always weird to associate Brian as your boyfriend or your “partner,” but saying it to Mark felt like the weight of a ton of bricks. 

In the dark lighting of the cabin you can just make out the frown that spreads across Mark’s face. Just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone and the cocky façade is back. 

“And that’s a problem?” your ex asked. 

As you’re about to protest and tell him that commitment in relationships is important to you, Mark reaches his hand out to rest on your bare shoulder, running it softly up and down your arms in a soothing pattern. It was a common gesture between the two of you, something Mark would constantly do whenever you were telling a story or the times you would fall asleep at night. It puts you at ease and you feel yourself close your eyes at his touch. 

Mark would be lying if he said the word “boyfriend” coming out of your mouth didn’t disappoint him. In fact, he felt a similar pain to the one he felt two years ago when you had broken up with him. Mark wasn’t daft, he knew what you thought of him – a player, a fuckboy and someone who never cared about you in the first place. It hurt him to know that you were just like everyone else around him who had a preconceived notion of who he was or what he did. At one point in time he thought you were different. 

But now looking at you and having you back in his life – even for only a thirteen-hour plane ride, he just wanted you back in his arms, back under his touch. He knew he should have felt guilty for not giving one fuck about this “boyfriend” you had acquired at some point during your two years apart, but he didn’t care. If he was going to have to be that cocky fuckboy who paid no mind to any consequences to get you, then so be it. 

“Come on… it’s been two years… let me feel that pussy that I’ve missed so so much,” he whispered seductively against the shell of your ear, “let me fuck into it so good, because I know no one’s filled it up so well since me. Especially not that boyfriend.” 

His words cause you to moan involuntarily and the noise awakens both you and him. You immediately shoot your hand up to cover your mouth, unsure of what’s getting into you. You were supposed to hate Mark, you had spent the last two years training yourself to hate him just in case a moment like this were ever to arise. But maybe that was an easier thing to imagine when you hadn’t seen him, because now with his hands gently caressing you and his request to be inside of you once again, you feel anything but hate. You feel want.

“Fuck Mark…” 

“Just say the word baby, and you have me,” he whispered, delicately placing an open mouth kiss on your wrist, slowly continuing up your arm. 

What were the pros and cons of this? If you were in any other difficult situation you would take a pause and list all of the good and bad things that could come from this. The big con was Brian… Even if you had been feeling strange about where your relationship with him was going and found him to be suffocating, you couldn’t do to him what Mark had done to you. Another negative factor emerged in your mind… you didn’t want to be put under Mark’s spell again, you couldn’t. Even being this close to him made you feel things that you had been trying to forget for two years, sleeping with him after all this time would only make it worse. That worried you. But judging on the primal way your body was reacting to Mark – your wet core being a clear sign – you knew this wasn’t going to be a logical decision where the cons outweigh the pros. 

“I-” you’re about to do it, you’re about to gain enough strength to tell him you don’t want him anymore, but when he pushes your hair away from where it lays on your shoulder and attaches his lips to the side of your neck, any willpower you had vanishing. His gentle sucking on the sweet spot of your neck that he knows oh too well causes you to let out a whimper and he smiles against your skin, knowing he has you. 

“Do it,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. 

Mark brings his lips back to your ear, “do what baby?” His cocky tone makes you want to roll you eyes. He had always done this – torture you until you were begging to feel his touch. 

You open your eyes and give yourself a moment to readjust to the dark lighting of the plane and focus on Mark’s face in the small space in front of the bathroom. You want to see his gaze when you make your non-logical decision.

“Fuck me.” 

The corner of his mouth turns upwards as he brings his arm forward and behind you to pull open the bathroom door, pushing you backwards into the cramped space. 

It’s when he’s pressed up against you and locks the door behind him that the reality of what you’re doing sets in. Just as you feel yourself get used to the harsh lighting, you freeze at Mark’s intense stare. 

“What are you looking at?” You asked. 

He smiled and glanced down at the floor shyly, then back up at you, “You.” 

For the first time since seeing him again at the airport store you feel those feelings in your stomach. No hate, no indifference and no bitterness towards Mark - not even just lust. Instead you felt a warmth for him that reminded you of the good days, not the bad ones. The swell in your heart worried you and you didn’t want to feel or dwell on it so you lean forward and kiss him.

Mark’s lips on yours doesn’t do anything to eliminate the softness you felt for him moments before, if anything it only intensifies it. It feels as though no time has passed for the two of you and the missing piece of the puzzle that you had been searching for has finally found its way back to you. 

A low growl comes from Mark’s throat and it sends your hands to find shelter in his hair. When you were together you had always had a weird thing for Mark’s hair. You loved running your fingers through it, gently massaging his scalp and tugging at the roots. Mark would always joke that you would probably break up with him if he ever shaved his head, which you didn’t exactly argue with. And now it just felt so good to have your hands where they belong. It’s almost as though Mark’s read your mind and he smiles against you lips when he feels your hands, “pull as hard as you want.” 

You feel his tongue at the seam of your lips, urging itself through to deepen the kiss and you tell yourself that it’s not too late, this can be the moment that you opt out for what a mistake this would be. With his hands drifting down from your hips to your ass, you feel yourself part your mouth voluntarily, realizing that you don’t want to stop this. You want to make this mistake; you want nothing more than to let him feel you and taste you even more. 

“I want to taste you so bad,” Mark whispered against your lips, “see if you taste as good as I remember.” 

You want that more than anything. Mark had always been so good with his tongue and just thinking about the hours he had spent between your thighs in the past made you even wetter than when you were having sex with Brian. Judging however, on the space you were both in, you didn’t know if it was physically possible. He can sense your hesitancy by the way your lips begin to still against his. 

He breaks apart from you and gently rubs his thumb along your jawline and lips, “don’t think too much.” In an instant Mark’s crouched down in the very small space in the bathroom and you immediately find yourself worried about his comfort level, “are you sure you’re okay?” 

He looked up at you, a dark look in his eyes and waved you off, “don’t worry about me babe, I’m about to have the best meal of my life.” At the end of his sentence he reaches up to the hem of your leggings and pulls them, along with your panties down in one sweep, pushing them aside. You’re almost surprised at his loftiness, but you remind yourself that it’s Mark. He moves a hand around to the back of your knee, hoisting one of your legs up onto the closed toilet seat, pushing the rest of your body up against the small sink counter. Although the space was already limited as it was, the position brought your core closer to his face and as you looked down to see the way his tongue stroked across his lips, you felt yourself already get lightheaded. 

He began with leaving open mouth kisses along the inside of your lifted thigh and another on the top of your pubic mound. It was enough to make you feel shaky, as though the one leg that was supporting your weight would give out at any moment. You found yourself unfazed, you knew Mark would be there to catch you if you fell. 

Mark leaned in further, his tongue delving between you folds to gather up as much of your wetness as he could, giving you a noisy taste that had him groaning, head pulling back and licking his lips after his first taste in two years.

“You taste even better than I remember, how the fuck could you get sweeter? I don’t even want to go back to my seat after tasting you, I could sit in this bathroom with my mouth on you till the end of the flight.” 

You found yourself wanting nothing more than to be stuck in this crammed bathroom with Mark for as long as you both could get away with. The person who was contemplating whether or not this was a bad idea didn’t even exist to you anymore. One lap of his tongue on you and you were reminded of all the ways he could make you fall apart. 

He tongued your clit slowly at first, every stroke almost teasing – as if he was making up for the years you two spent a part. His tongue would slip lower, working its way along your gushing entrance to remind you how much he relished your flavor before returning to your clit, the wet sounds of Mark’s sucking not even embarrassing to you. It was when Mark began to groan against you and swirl his tongue and suck that you felt your hands go back to his hair, roughly pulling him closer. 

“Mark, I-I can’t… I’m gonna – fuck,” you moaned out unable to form a functional and coherent thought. As you feel your orgasm on the horizon and just around the corner, you tug at Mark’s roots further, which encourages him to pick up the pace of his tongue, wanting you to cum on his face just like you had many times before. He wanted to drive you to the brink of pleasure, but he also wanted to prove to himself that he could still bring you to the edge with just his tongue.

Any delicacy he had been exhibiting before is completely gone, the way he laps at your clit and swirls his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves causes your chest to heave and sweat on your brow. You’re so caught up in Mark that you barely notice your foot beginning to slip from its security on the toilet. Mark swiftly acknowledges your pending loss of balance and tugs the leg up onto his shoulder, not removing himself from you for even a moment. 

You could feel yourself twitch and the arching of your hips towards his face, “come on baby I know how close you are, I need you to cum for me. Cum for me like all the times before, all over my face. I want it so bad.” 

Mark’s muffled words against you and the final groans he emits from how much he loves your taste is the last straw as you finally let go and the waves of release crash over you. He doesn’t give way as you buck yourself further into him one final time, his back practically hitting the wall of the bathroom. Your body comes down from your climax and you look to see Mark gratefully clean up the release he caused. When he takes his mouth away, you feel your core wavering against the emptiness and loss of warmth it had felt, almost as though it wanted Mark to be a permanent attachment to you. You’re breathless, head falling back to the mirror behind you as Mark stands up, wiping the back of his mouth and jawline which had become messy and shiny with your juices. 

“I knew you were still my little slut,” he pushes the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind you, “letting me have you in a fucking bathroom at 35,000 feet. How else will you let me have you?” He asked attaching his lips back to that spot on your neck. 

It dawns on you that there’s no winning. You once again are completely under the spell and at the mercy of Mark Tuan, willing to let him do whatever he wants to you. “M-Mark whatever you want.” At your response he simply smirked, quickly pulling his joggers and boxers down, his painfully hard cock slapping against his lower stomach. 

“Fuck I’ve been waiting so long to have you around me again. I never thought I would, and I’m going to make every second count.” 

He positions himself in between your legs, gripping your hips and pauses for a moment, clearly contemplating something. Mark hadn’t planned on having sex on the plane, nor did he plan on even seeing you again. 

“Mark if it’s about the condom, it’s fine… I don’t care, I’m still on the pill and I-I trust you.” 

At your trust in him, something he had so deeply been wanting all these years, he doesn’t hesitant another moment at placing himself at your entrance. His teasingly slow rubbing against your slit causes you to let out almost a growl at how much you needed him to be inside of you.

“How much do you want it y/n?” 

“So bad.” 

He pushes into you suddenly, “you’re still my cockslut, huh?” The feeling is too good and too great to answer him, but he’s not satisfied with your nonresponse.

“Answer me.” He sunk himself inside of you further and you do your best to let out the smallest and most inaudible “yes” you’ve ever heard, which thankfully seems to be enough for him. 

“God,” he groaned, “you’re still so tight.” He looks down at the space where your bodies meet, fixating his gaze at the visual of his cock slipping inside your sensitive and swollen folds. Mark waited for a moment for your pussy to get used to having him inside you again, to get reintroduced to his length and girth which it had been so accustomed to in the past. Despite the time that had passed, you felt no discomfort except for the mental discomfort in your head that just wanted him to fuck into you quickly and harshly. 

“Taking me so well, squeezing every inch of me. This pussy knows who it belongs to, who it deserves to be fucked by.” 

“M-Mark,” a final moan of his name is all it takes for him to begin his first real thrust into you, pulling himself out almost entirely. You feel so sensitive and overworked from your earlier orgasm that you aren’t sure how long you can last with the way your walls are clenching around Mark. 

His pace soon became brutal and you’re thankful the loud sound of the engine could cover up the whimpers coming from your mouth and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Mark’s fingers press into your hips so firmly that you know there will be bruises that you’ll have to explain later, but for now the only thing you can focus on is how full Mark is making you feel. He removes his hand from your side and brings it down between the two of you, fixating on your clit, rubbing until it ached. It caused your body to clench on him further, the continual touch and his fucking into you making you roll your eyes into the back of your head. 

Mark groaned at how snug you felt and how deep you were taking him, his head falling into the crook of your neck and against the bathroom mirror, “whose are you?” 

You know what he wants you to say, but you don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, even in the heat of the moment. It could lead to misunderstandings and a more complex outcome than just that of having sex with him in a fucking airplane bathroom. 

“Whose are you?” He repeated, this time a little bit softer and removing his head from your shoulder to look at you with worrisome eyes. Mark knows that if you say you’re his it’d most likely be untrue, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to hear it one more time, even if it’s a complete and utter lie. He wants to know he has you, even if it’s for this one moment. 

“Yours, I’m all yours,” you breathe out. It comes out on its own, without any time for you to process or comprehend what you’re saying. It surprises you so much that you aren’t even sure if it’s a lie or not. 

That’s all he needed and he thrusts into you even harder, hitting the spot inside of you that makes you want to completely fall apart and combust. You’re too caught up in the pleasure of him ramming into you that you don’t even feel the pain that comes with your backside being continually pushed into small counter of the sink. 

“Cum for me baby, I’m close and I need us to do this together. It’s all I want,” Mark said. His tone perplexes you. It’s forceful and authoritative something that you were no stranger to when it came to sex with Mark, but there was a clear tenderness to it that had you second guessing everything. Maybe this wasn’t just sex. 

It’s one more strum of his cock against your g-spot and the pinching of your clit with his thumb and index finger that has you climaxing around him. The almost violent pulse from your pussy around him due to your orgasm has Mark following close behind, spilling himself deep inside of you. The ecstasy coursing through you causes your entire body to shake and twitch, wanting to collapse completely onto the bathroom floor. You fall against Mark’s body and in his own exhausted state he holds you close, protectively wrapping his arms around you making you feel secure. 

You should want to get out of the situation immediately as a one-time thing, but somehow you can’t bring it in you to remove yourself from his grasp. You felt at home with Mark’s arms around you and him still inside of you. It was a comfort a sense of normalcy you hadn’t felt with anyone since Mark. He softly strokes your hair, placing gentle kisses on the top of your head remembering how much you liked it after a tiring session of sex.

It feels as though no time has passed, but soon you find yourself out of Mark’s hold. He removes his now soft cock from you and you can feel yours and his cum leaking from your core, down to your thighs. It’s almost as though this movement has finally woken you up. You delicately collapse onto the toilet, making sure to take extra care with your now jelly-like legs. With your head in your hands in disbelief at the actions you had just willingly followed through on, Mark stares at you. 

“Fuck… I’m so mad at myself.”

With the small amount of space, he has, Mark shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “why? That was so fucking great.” 

You looked up at him in a scolding manner, he still had no perception of reality, but apparently now you were one and the same. “Because now I did the same thing to Brian that you did to me.”

There’s a pause and Mark avoids all eye contact with you. He had imagined this talk so many times – the talk the two of you never got to have and he really didn’t want it to be here, like this. But by some strike of luck, fate had brought you back to him, even for a short period of time and he may never get the opportunity to come clean again. 

Choosing to continue to avert your gaze, Mark sighs deeply and busies himself with pulling up his joggers. 

“I didn’t cheat on you.”  

You feel like ice and your whole body goes numb, “W-what?” 

He sighs again, looking down, “I never cheated on you.” 

You think there’s no way you could have heard him correctly. Your entire break up, the reason you ended your passionate love story with the one person you saw a future with came from his cheating. It couldn’t be a lie… Could it? 

One thing was for certain, you knew Mark so well and judging by the fidgeting and fiddling with his fingers you can tell you still do. And he was telling the truth. Your stomach flipped. 

“Then why did you let me believe that you did?”

“You were the only person in my life who didn’t believe all those stupid rumors about me, the only person who didn’t believe I was a fuckboy like everyone thought… but then the moment someone tells you they think they saw me with someone, you pack your bags. I figured you wouldn’t believe me, just like everyone else.”

It’s ridiculous. The words coming out of his mouth are ridiculous, but part of you understands what he’s saying. Maybe you had been too quick to judge, too quick to believe everyone else’s preconceived notions regarding your own boyfriend, but what were you supposed to do when he didn’t even defend himself? 

“You know… even after all this time, I still don’t know why I hated you. I really don’t know if it was because I thought you cheated or because you never went after me when I left.” 

Mark’s silent, and the weight of the situation continues to hit the two of you like a bus. Part of you feels betrayed by him. More betrayal then when you first heard the rumors. The two of you could have been together this whole time, saved each other from years of pain, sorrow and longing, but instead it’s almost as though he forced it upon you both.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Jesus fuck Mark we’re not Marianne and Connell from Normal People, we can talk to each other.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Who?” 

“I’ve been watching a lot of TV since we broke up.” 

There’s another silence between the two of you and in the small space it feels deafening and suffocating. You want nothing more than to go back to your seat and forget this even happened. Weirdly enough, the sex part you were fine with. It was this conversation that left you feeling like you couldn’t get a proper breath of air into your lungs, almost as if you were drowning. 

You take a piece of toilet paper from the roll beside you and use it to attempt to clean up the mess that had already begun drying on your legs. Mark watches you mindlessly, unsure of what to say himself. He knows he made a mistake from not telling you and effectively keeping the two of you apart, but every time he would reach for the phone to dial your number he would be reminded of the pain he felt and all the things you had called him that day. 

Everyone was right! Why didn’t I just fucking listen to them? Does a three year relationship mean nothing to you? I thought you changed… were different… but now I just feel like I wasted my time.

“I-I really don’t know what to say if I’m honest,” you finally stuttered out, grabbing your discarded leggings and pulling them on, “did you want me to leave you?”

Mark shakes his head vigorously, completely taken aback at you even thinking that, “no... Not at all... I just- it was complicated.”

“Right and you don’t do complicated. Got it.” You stand up and move to unlock the door, but Mark moves in front of you as he did earlier. 

“Y/n... Can we just talk about this? When we land can we just go to a cafe and talk about everything? I still- I mean... even after all this time I-” He begins, but you’re too scared to hear him finish the sentence.

“Mark we’ve had a lot of time to talk. Just please let me go back to my seat.” 

This time he makes no effort to stop you from leaving and you quickly slip out of the bathroom, fearful someone might see you. Luckily, everyone is still fast asleep and you walk back down the aisle to your seat wanting to forget about what Mark had said.  

You couldn’t deal with the what ifs, you couldn’t get lost in a fantasy of imagining that maybe you and Mark could be married already if he would have just said something. You couldn’t be that cruel to yourself.

After a few moments, you notice the bathroom occupied sign go away, signaling Mark’s arrival back to his seat. 

He knows he could just sit down and go back to sleep, falling back in to the way things were. But he had already not tried to go after you once before and he had been regretting it ever since. He had to say fuck that to all of the fears he had of being judged and put trust back into someone again. He wanted you.

Your eyes which had drifted closed soon shot open as you felt a movement at the side of your chair, turning to see Mark crouched down next you

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I already let go of you once, I’m not doing it again. If I have to spend the next,” he brings his watch up to look at the time, “six hours convincing you, then so be it. I’m not letting walk away from me this time.” At his final word he moves his hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear and goes to sit down. His eyes piercing into the back of your seat.

You felt Mark’s words, you felt them deeply in every part of you and it made you think that the Mark you love was still in there. 

Love.

You still loved him.

The beating of your heart made it difficult to fall asleep, but when you finally did you had a decision made and a smile on your face. 

#got7 fanfic #got7 smut #mark tuan #mark tuan fanfic #got7 fanfiction

[stars-in-my-universe]

I Hope: part 2 Tyler Seguin

The long awaited sequel of I hope. This will be the final part, I feel like we all needed some closure. I hope you all like it and please let me know what you think, I hope I didn’t disappoint.

Part 1

“McKayla, are you serious? You’ve known about these plans for over a month!” He watched as the blonde parades around the bedroom putting on the last touches of her make Up. Tyler sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands as he waited for her to hurry the hell up.

“Tyler, I have to go meet my sister! She’s going through some stuff okay?’ Tyler was very understanding and had more than enough patience but the fact that she was canceling on Tyler's friend’s barbecue after knowing about it for over a month...it irritated him to no end. He watched as she walked out of the bathroom in heels.

“You’re meeting your sister in heels?” He arched an eyebrow and looked at his fiancee.

“We’ll probably go eat honestly. What is the big deal?” Tyler shook his head and grabbed his keys from the dresser.

“I’ll see you later, if you get home before me let the dogs out but do not leave them outside til I get home. Let them in, Mckayla.” Tyler rolled his eyes as he heard her let out a ‘mhmm.’

Tyler knew this wasn’t working, he knew something else was going on behind his back but he hadn't caught her in a lie nor was their proof plus she still wore her engagement ring. It still didn’t excuse the fact that all they did was fight, constantly. He was tired of it. He drove To His friends barbecue, tapping his fingers to the song and thinking of what he should probably do about the whole situation.

Past

“Tyler, I don’t like fighting with you and I also don’t like the silent treatment you give me every time. We’re adults, we should talk about shit like this.” The two had just gotten into a fight about how she was planning to go to school in California and not Dallas, news that Tyler had no idea about.

“I’ve always planned to go to school in Cali once I saved up enough, Tyler. That’s always been my plan, the plan my Parents and friends always knew about. I didn’t think I’d ever change my mind.” He knew he couldn’t ask her to give up her school for Him, she loved it.

“Y/n I want you to go to school, I want you to have your dream. I just-“ she watched the anger leave him and watched as sadness and uneasiness washed over him.

“I just wish you didn’t have to go so far.” She sighed and moved to sit in his lap. Her hands found their place on his shoulders and his on her hips.

“I would look at schools in Dallas Tyler, but if I had some sort of I don’t know long term commitment from you? Like if I looked at schools here we’d have to be in it for the long run.”

“Deal. You could move in.” He watched her eyes widen.

“Y/n, I’m here for it. For you. I love you. You can move in and look at schools here, anything to get you to stay.” You bit your lip and nodded, you two were really doing this.

“I love you.”

Present

Tyler shook His head as he pulled up to the house, the music already blaring from the back yard.

He may have been engaged to Mckayla and it may have been months since it happened but the past couple of weeks he hadn't been able to get you out of his head.

He hadn't seen you since the last time you said goodbye to him; you stopped showing up to the parties and you stopped hanging around the same Crowd. You had let Him go and Tyler didn’t realize how much it had hurt to not see you around anymore . He had fucked up and he knew that. He knew that the moment you found out about him cheating, he knew that the moment you looked at Him sadly and told him you were going to be staying with your best friend and you’d come back for your stuff which you never did, he knew he ruined it all when you bent down and kissed his dogs goodbye for the last time.

Tyler knew you were done with him when he came Home one day and the pair of house keys were on the kitchen counter, the engagement ring next to it and the wags jersey that you’d specially wear to his games folded neatly underneath it all.

He wasn’t an idiot, he had fucked up Something good and lately he had been wondering if it was even worth it. If what he did was worth breaking your heart, because as cliche as it was he never meant to hurt you.

x-x

Tyler threw his phone against the wall and threw himself onto His bed. He had been home waiting for her, when his phone binged with a text message. And then another and then another. When he finally locked it and looked at his messages he wished he hadn't. ‘Dude Mckayla is here, you coming?’ ‘Bro whose the guy with your girl?’ ‘Segs, wtf is going on?’ It was officially, she was cheating on him and she didn’t even care to hide it. Going to the same spots his friends did, probably not thinking about covering her tracks. He had called her several Times and no answer, all going to voicemail. He was sick to his stomach, he was hurt, and angry and a little bit disgusted. He knew he needed to end it, not like it would come to a surprise, they were both unhappy to the point where she was seeing someone else, Something Tyler had expected for a while.

Picking up his phone, he had called her again, which was sent to voicemail again. Shaking his head he threw his phone on his bed and made his way downstairs, whistling for the boys to come. All three labs greeted him at the foot of the stairs, their tails wagging happily. He was getting restless and angry so he figured waking the dogs would help Him calm down a bit.

Past

“Why is he so fat, ty? Like where did you go wrong?” He shoved you gently making you laugh.

“I left him to my mom and sisters one summer and I guess they over fed him.” The black lab was happily laying at your feet on the grass in Tyler’s back yard. Marshall was chewing on a dog toy in the shade and Gerry was jumping in and out of the pool every time Tyler would throw the toy in.

“You would think having three of them, they’d be a lot crazier but it’s almost as if the more there are the calmer they are.” Tyler nodded and looked over at you.

“Yeah even when Gerry was a puppy he’d just follow what Marshall and Cash did and it was so much easier to train him.” You ran your hand along Cash’s back making him let out a sigh.

“Maybe one day, you and I can get one...together.” You looked up at Tyler.

“You already have all the colors though.” He let out a laugh making you smile.

“It doesn’t have to be A lab, it would just be nice to adopt one with you and raise one.” You nodded.

“Honestly I think when we’re more settled, I think it would be a good idea.” You watched his face light up, Tyler was such a dog dad.

“On one condition.” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“It has to be a girl, this time.”

“Noooooo!”

Present

“This isn’t working mckayla and you know it. Cheating on me, running into my friends and basically ignoring them. Ignoring my calls, late lunches with your sister what the fuck.” He watched as she rolled her eyes.

“What did you expect Tyler? All we do is fight, it’s exhausting.” Tyler didn’t say much else. He knew what a healthy relationship was supposed to be and this wasn’t it. He had one and he ruined it.

“McKayla give me the ring, get your shit and get out.” McKayla stopped folding the clothes she had in her hand.

“So that’s it? You’re not even going to try to work things out?” Tyler gawked at her, she had to be kidding?

“No, I’m not. Because this hasn’t worked out for a long time and you know that. You hate my dogs, you don’t even try to spend time with my friends, but yet we always have to run to your sister’s? A relationship is a two way street, McKayla.”

Past

“Relationships are a two way street, Tyler. I’m tired, I’m tired of chasing you, of begging you for attention. I shouldn’t have to!” You were fed up with his partying. He had stopped caring about the dinner dates, ranked on dinner with your friend, You had even taken a skype call from his mom for him having to lie as to why he wasn’t there to talk to her. All because he was out with his friends partying till 3am.

It had all started when the Stars lost the game against the Blues eliminating them from the Playoffs. They had all taken it hard, but the team decided to go to Vegas before summer started which Y/N could deal with. She encouraged Tyler to go, saying he needed it but then he came home and he was cold, and continued to party well into the night; you would come home from work and people would be everywhere throughout the house and in the backyard, so you’d go straight upstairs with the dogs and go to sleep feeling empty and sad.

“I know that, I’m trying I just-” Y/n glared down at him.

“You’re not trying, Tyler. You’re hardly here!” You were mad and hurt and all you wanted was answers. The two sat in deafening silence as you chose your next words carefully.

“Who is she Tyler?” His head shot up in confusion.

“Don’t lie to me just tell me who she is or tell me you have no idea what I’m talking about.” Tyler didn’t know what to say and apparently his silence was your answer.

“I knew it…”

“Y/n wait, just let me-” Tyler looked up at you and expected to see tears and heartache but instead all he saw was...nothing. Your face was blank, guarded, your eyes cold.

“I will get my stuff tomorrow, I’m going to stay somewhere else tonight.”

Present

Tyler didn’t expect to run into you ever, in Dallas. He figured you would have either moved on or gone to California. But then he saw you at the park, with a cute little black lab puppy on a leash he felt like he could breathe again.

You looked good, healthy and most of all happy. You had that light back to you and the puppy that is currently jumping in your lap probably helped a lot. He didn’t know if he should go over and talk to you or just walk away and leave you, you seemed at peace.

Maybe it was the fact that he was nursing a broken heart or maybe he just needed something positive in his life, or maybe he just missed you but he decided to take the leap and go talk to you.

He watched you stand up and grab the leash off the ground and then it was like time stopped. You turned around and you looked up, the smile on your face immediately fall. Shit. Tyler sent you a small smile and stopped in front of you, his hands in his pockets.

“Tyler…” You didn’t know what to say.

“Y/n, hi.” He glanced down at the puppy who was nipping at the leash.

“Oh uh, this is Bella.” Tyler bent down to say hi to the puppy who happily licked his face.

“You finally got one?” You nodded.

“A girl, like you always wanted.” You let out a sad laugh, Tyler stood back up and stared at you.

“So how have you been?” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“Tyler, let’s not do this.”

“I miss you.” You looked up at him and shook your head.

“Tyler.”

“I know it’s a lot and it’s been awhile. I just, I wanted to say sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through. I messed up, bad and I just-” You chuckled to yourself and stopped him before he could continue.

“She cheated didn’t she?” Tyler was taken back, how did you know.

“You’re not wearing a ring, Tyler. Plus you wouldn’t be apologizing if you didn’t know how it felt, men don’t work like that.”

“I really am sorry, Y/n.”

“Tyler, It’s okay. I’m sorry you had to feel what it’s like but I just hope you grow from this. I hope you realize what this all means and you grow up and the next time you find someone, you keep her and treat her right…” You were smiling sadly at him, no malicious or anger.

“What if ‘the next time’ is standing in front of me.” You bite your lip hard, you would always have a soft spot for Tyler Seguin but enough was enough.

“I’m sorry Tyler. I’m seeing someone…” You watched the small smile fall and the confusion grace his face.

“I- uh, who is he?” You never heard Tyler stutter before.

“He’s a guy I met through school. He’s nice and funny…”

“Does he treat you well?” You glanced at him.

“Yeah, Tyler. He does. He makes me happy.” You could see the heartbreak in his eyes. You didn’t want to hurt him, despite all he put you through, you still didn’t want to hurt him but you needed to end this.

“I used to hope to run into you, Tyler. I would hope you’d run into me and we’d talk and you’d tell me you made a big mistake…” Tyler went to say something but you shook your head.

“I missed you every day after that night. I missed our texts, our phone calls, I missed watching you play hockey funny enough I still watch it because he’s a Colorado fan. But I missed your tattoos, I missed your laugh. And then one morning I woke up and I didn’t miss you anymore, I didn’t think about you, I didn’t hope, Tyler.” His breathing was ragged and he wanted to walk away and forget this ever happened.

“I knew what I was getting myself into Tyler, when I dated you. You loved to party, constantly had girls around you but I trusted you with everything in me and you threw that away.” Your voice was soft, no harshness detected.

“I loved you so much.  I loved the future we had planned, I loved you. And I will always have love for you. But you broke me Tyler in ways no one else ever had and I’m sorry McKayla hurt you. But I’m happy now Tyler and I won’t apologize for that.” You glanced down at Bella who was laying at your feet and then back up at him, his eyes rimmed red and his hand clutching his phone.

“We adopted her together, we live together, Tyler. I won’t go down this road with you again. I healed, maybe it’s time you do the same.” He blinked back the tears at the rejection.

“I won’t be yours again, but I hope you find someone that will. I hope you find a girl who is going to love you and support you. I hope she loves your dogs unconditionally-” He remembered the last time you told him something similar but this time around instead of sadness and hurt, your voice was filled with hope and empathy.

“She’ll treat your family how they should be treated and I hope she makes you happy. I hope you find her and I know you will, Tyler. Because you’ve never had problems in that department.” Both of you let out a small laugh.

“But when you find her, Ty. I hope you treat her right, I hope you learned your lesson and keep her close and for any reason I hope you never let her go. Let her in, let her see you, Tyler. Because despite everything I think there’s a good guy in there, he just wasn’t ready for commitment. But I hope when she finds you, you are.” Tyler looked at you and you could feel it in your bones, this was a final goodbye. He shook his head.

“You were it,” You smiled at him.

“If I was it, you wouldn’t have done what you did, Tyler. Love wasn’t enough this time around and that’s okay.” You stepped a bit closer to him and leaned in to kiss his cheek, his body spray and aftershave hitting you bringing back memories.

“You’re going to be okay, Tyler. But this is it, I won’t be seeing you again.” You pulled away and motioned for Bella to follow you which he puppy happily did.

“Goodbye, Tyler Seguin. I hope you get everything you want in life and more.” Tyler watched you walk away and he could feel his heart break. Tyler took in a breath and closed his eyes, glancing back, he collected himself.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” And Tyler knew it would be for the last time.

#Tyler Seguin #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin fanfic #tyler seguin one shot #nhl one shot #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #dallas stars #dallas stars oneshot #dallas stars imagine #tyler seguin x reader #tyler seguin x oc

[thedappleddragon]

hooooo my fucking god I don't know why but recently my anxiety/sence of dread has SKYROCKETED in the last 3 days, I haven't been sleeping great and last night I had an anxiety dream about manning the register at work. idk I guess today was fine but im so fucking overstimulated I guess?? I seriously just dont fuking know. but anyway here’s a summary of some days that I may or may not remember. putting it under the cut

Wednesday I was exited to work, they didn’t need me, I hung out with my friends at their outdoor band concert and had boba and it got super cold out

Thursday I went with my dad to drop off a car, then we had breakfast together at a little restaurant I had never been to before. He told me about his childhood n stuff. Then I went to work and priced things outside and felt good about helping some people buy plants even tho I didn’t know exactly what I was doing and ended up handing them off to Becky anyway. Got off work, came home, hung out waiting to be able to go visit my friend but she took a while so dad and I made the snack he had a lot as a kid which was just handmade chocolate frosting on graham crackers. Eventually my friend got home so I grabbed one of those graham crackers in some Tupperware and some other stuff and headed out. It was a longer drive than I was expecting but eh whatever, I got there no problem with a bunch of dad’s shit in the back of the car. We had awkward hellos in her apartment and I pet her fat ass cat until she suggested we go thrifting and oh my god I had never wanted to go thrifting more in my life than right then. I had one of those moments where I realized oh I’m an adult who can go out and just DO things :D so we walked around and gossiped in goodwil and had a great time until they closed, whereupon steph frantically looked for anything that was open near us while I drove around. We settled on going to a little park nearby, where we climbed on the tube with holes on it and swung on the swings. Then we walked around a dense tree/brush like and into the middle of a field, having our main character moments as we walked to the top of a hill with a cross on it. I took a picture of the sunset and a selfie with both of us before we walked back through the field and drove back to her apartment. I gave her 2 tiny flower jars and she let me borrow her container of earring hardware and a bunch of different tiny things to make into earrings. I had a great time and I’d love to hang out again, maybe when everything isn’t closed lmao. We joked a lot about understanding why people do drugs lmao since there’s nothing else to do! everything’s closed!! Also some joke flirting mixed in for flavor. We have an excuse to hang out again so I can return her earring supplies and she can return my Tupperware lol. I thought my phone was going to die on the way home before I realized there was a charging cord in the car! Nice. Got home, watched my friend stream plasmaphobia for a bit while I finished a birthday gift, and hung out and slept when she quit streaming. 

Friend’s birthday party day!! Also dad moving day!! The first task of the day was to drive with my dad down to the nearest uhaul to pick up a big ol’ truck, and follow him home in the car while he lead the way in the truck. Then we brought his car full of shit to the apartment, got his key and paid his first month, and looked through everything to do inspection. Tbh it’s a pretty nice apartment, I’d love to spend some time there once it’s a bit more furnished. My favorite part is a Harry Potter style hidey hole closet that’s meant for storage, but it’s the perfect size for a secluded hangout spot for me. I’ll totally let him use it for storage if he wants, I just like sitting in there. I joked that I would let Emily hang out in the spare bedroom and I could get the tiny room. But we spent time cleaning and looking around and bringing in boxes before dad sent me to pick up lunch, my sister, and another car load of boxes. I left to do all 3 and came back with Mcallisters, and we all sat on the floor and ate together. A very nice way to break in a new apartment. We brought in boxes and dad sent us on a quest to pick up a car part and drop it off where the car we dropped off the day before. We got there just fine, but getting to the second location was a nightmare because of all my wrong turns and u turns and no left turns, it was awful. I mean we got there eventually but still. By then it was time for me to get home so I could wash my hair and get ready for the party!! I got everything ready, but my sister wouldn’t be home with the car on time, so I just took my mom’s van. I was on time for once!! But in exchange I didn’t realize I had forgotten Cassidy’s gift until I was like 3 minutes away. But also I found driving my moms van very easy compared to last time I tried to drive it, and I think I’m a much more confident driver now :) but I was one of the first to arrive, accidentally twinned with cass, waited for everyone to show up, met her new dog, and then we all packed up the picnic basket and walked to the top of a hill to have our little sandwiches and play cards against humanity. On the walk there we passed by a park where little kids were asking why we were all dressed up if it wasn’t Halloween, so I shouted at them that it was her birthday and handed them the branch I was carrying. We played CAH on the hill and ate little sandwiches and meatballs and drank sparkling juice and had a lovely time, and when we were done, we walked back to her house where there was pizza and we all changed out of our formal wear. My bra was sewed into my dress with 6 stitches, so I grabbed some scissors and flashed my friend’s cat as I cut my bra free of the dress because I forgot to bring an extra. I changed into my ghostbusters shirt and snake onesie and joined everyone outside for pizza and lots and lots of stories and ice cream cake and gossip and quiplash and balloons and gifts and CAH and friends leaving and new friends arriving and more quiplash and then the grass getting cold and wet and going ham on keeping the balloons up and then playing that’s what she said (basically CAH but ✨for women ✨) and by this time there was a dude I didn’t know but he was very nice and cute and already taken. Tbh I didn’t know half the people there, there was a group of 4 cool alt people I had never met and then the 4 band kids I already knew but everyone else seemed to know each other and they all had great energy so I yelled a lot and joked a ton and had an amazing time. As the crowd dwindled and the night got cooler, I helped put things away before I left so I could be a nice guest, said my goodbyes, gathered my things, and drove home past midnight. Ask walked around the house turning off lights like my mom asked, I realized that my dad wouldn’t be sleeping here anymore, and I felt bad that he had to spend the night all alone in his new apartment :( and this is going to be a huge financial burden that idk if he can afford, rent for the apartment is almost as much as my mom pays for the house. Jejdjgjt this is all a mess and I would like to go back to ignoring it all <3 Listened to a lot of two trucks by lemon demon lmao

Hoo boy howdy I did a lot of shit today. Basically as soon as I woke up I got a text from dad about us helping him move with a promise of donut holes and a fruit platter. I walked out to the garage to find our family friends the drakes helping to move boxes, so we all spent several hours loading boxes into our cars and driving back and forth from the house to the apartment, with emily and I avoiding the drakes as much as possible lmao. When we had moved as much as we could in the car, we started loading up the uhaul, shoving as much shit in there as possible so we only had to do one trip there and back. Partially through unloading the truck the drakes stopped cleaning things before we brought them in left and some randos from dad’s work came to help unload and somewhere in the middle of all this our aunt and uncle and her service dog came to visit?? Bruh idk so much stuff happened. Emily asked me to take her home so she could work on school stuff and we put things back into the garage and I went back to the apartment to help with stuff and hang out with my aunt while my dad and uncle returned the truck. We made a list of stuff I might need for college and I wrote it down on a notepad and most of the page space was taken up by ponies tbh. The men brought back burger king and eventually my aunt and uncle left. I helped my dad clean up and set up his wifi and we watched mama Mia. It was my first time seeing the film, and it was really dang fun. Then I made dad drive me ho e since emily was still gone with the silver car. I’ll spend he night over there eventually, but not yet. I’m exited to eventually invite friends over since I’ve never been able to do that before. So now I’m home trying g to go to sleep so I can work tomorrow. I keep thinking about smoking weed and making out with someone in the hidey hole in dad’s apartment............ even tho I have literally no one to do that with afsagssg I’m a CHILD. 

Had dreams last night about being stuck on the infinity train again, except there was a mechanic of switching the world between 2d and 3d and the cast of Bluey had to help bingo go through stages of grief / character moments to help her get off the train or something. I was tossing and turning for a few hours anxiously waking up thinking I was gonna be late and going back to bed so I could sleep/dream more. But then I finally got up, fed my cat, fed myself, helped clean the kitchen a little bit, got ready for work, arrived 15 minutes late on accident, worked register for 6 hours, got more comfortable with register and learned how to do stuff, lots of friendly people, lots of me struggling and my bones hurting, dad brought me food but I couldn’t get to my lunch break until everything was room temperature. The chicken sandwich reheated well but the fries did not. After work dad and I stopped by the house, I got an info card to fill out so I can be called in for jury duty eventually, dad handed me $50 for dinner for us and my sister, we laid on the floor and looked at the noodles and company menu, drove there, picked up our food, had a lovely dinner at dad’s apartment, laid around while he talked to Greg on the phone, went to target to pick up small apartment things like a clock and a trash can and some small groceries but it made me nervous because I hate spending money and watching my dad spend money he may or may not have, and by then we were tired as shit and after dropping his stuff off emily and I drove home and I tried teaching her how to crochet for a school project. Now I’m hanging out wanting to go to bed and thinking about how everybody else my age working at ACE is doing like 60 hours a week with 2 jobs and saving for college and I’m just sitting here with probably 14 hours a week and fuck. I don’t want to spiral into shit, I just want to keep busy as much as possible. Maybe I’ll ask for as many work hours as possible, maybe I’ll ask my friends to hang out, idk. Right now I jut want to be busy so I don’t have to think about anything. I’ll spend as much time as possible helping my dad set up his apartment, I don’t care.

WAAAAA TODAY AT WORK WAS SO STRESSFUL, I LEFT FELLNG SO FRAZZLED IT SUCKED. basically I worked register for 4 hours but they’re all trying to ween me off asking for help to get me more comfortable, and we were surprisingly busy, and my garden boss becky asked me to do 2 extra things and my boss boss kept asking about paperwork that I couldn't fill out because I needed my sister to text me something, and an old man got mad at me over the phone because no-one was out there to fill his propane tank and I had a lady waiting for 10 minutes for someone to help load salt into her car and a middle aged man tried to use sarcasm at me while I was in friendly cashier mode aND IM SORRY I HAVE ADHD I DONT GET IT PLEASE S T O P and I tried answering the phone more and I didnt get the things done that becky asked and I left shit there because I just wanteD OUT. afterwards I went to target to get something, idk im writing this afterwards so I not really remember 

and today, my day off. ugh god I dont remember what I did, I know I picked up a vent for my mom’s bathroom and I just went to go get Taco Bell with my sister and bought her some more about crocheting and she’s making progress :) tomorrow is my friend’s birthday and last year I made her a felt doll of her fursona, so today I started making a crochet doll for her. so far I have the body and libs, but I still need to make the muzzle, tail, ears, attach everything, and hand-sew on all the markings and glue on button eyes. or maybe felt eyes, idk. my stomach hurts and I got upset because I told my mom my cat may be sick because her pee looked suspicious so I crocheted and watched my little pony and now I have a headache and im just trying to listen to music but really I just want to watch 50 arms videos at once but it wasn't loading right and idk man I dont know what’s happening, I may be going into work tomorrow. I think now that I have a job to do 3-4 times a week, I dont feel like I can just chill and wing it anymore, it’s like I have plans forever now. and oh god I still have to sig up for college orientation night or whatever, but my mind hasn'tt been on college for like a month or longer. I think im just going to take some Advil and try to relax with my cat and my music. holy shit dude. I know none’s gonna read this but just. fuck. also I should really post these more frequently rather than let them pile up in my texts. thinking about going back and adding all the dates like I did with my early quarantine diary, but that feels like a lot of work

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #may 2021 daily

[katsidhe]

Fic: games of skill; games of chance [14.17 coda]

Sam, and a head injury, and a car ride: one vessel considers another.

AO3

“You’re still looking green around the gills,” Dean tells him.

“I feel okay now,” says Sam. He is still nauseous, but it’s fading. Jack did a good job pasting his skull back together. Nick’s dead. Lucifer’s dead. Sam should be dead but, as usual, isn’t.

“We should have just ganked the guy,” Dean says. Dean is angry, of course he is. Sam doesn’t begrudge him. Sam is probably angry himself.

When Sam broke it to Dean, that Nick had survived and they’d been getting him back on his feet, Dean had told him that it wasn’t his responsibility. You don’t have to martyr yourself, Sam, he’d said, it doesn’t have to be you taking care of him, like Sam was making a sacrifice. But Sam hadn’t been. He really, really hadn’t been.

In fact, Sam’s pretty sure he was being fundamentally selfish.

Cas would have taken it on, if Sam had asked; Sam knows. Same with Mom. But Sam had been the one to bring Nick back, so Sam volunteered. He even told himself it was to spare the others. To spare Cas, who had spent months possessed; to spare Mom, who’d spent an uncertain amount of time in that other world one-on-one with Lucifer.

(When Sam had asked, vaguely, she’d been noncommittal with the details, said, oh, you know. Said, it wasn’t that bad, and hadn’t been long anyway. She’d smiled the way she often smiled, without her eyes, in a way which meant nothing at all.)

But he knows now it hadn’t been because of them, not really. Patching Nick up was—it felt good, like holding his breath and pressing on a bruise.

Dean deserves to enjoy an I-told-you-so, at this point.

***

The noise in his head is loud and long, strident, persistent, splitting him open. Sam tries to wedge himself upright on the wheel, lying across the horn: the noise is his lifeline.

Saving Nick’s life in that church was still the right thing to do, Sam knows that. He’d just about collapsed from the shock when Nick had tried to sit up, then crumbled back down, unconscious; but Nick so obviously wasn’t Lucifer. Not then, and not today either—not even when he’d been singing, goading Sam like a toddler, using familiar lines—there wasn’t ever really a moment that Sam got them mixed up. He’s sure it’s actually easier for him to see the difference than it was for Mary and Dean; even Cas, for some reason.

But everything that came after—the warning signs, of which there had assuredly been more than one; the mood swings, the harsh gestures and words. The obsession. Sam didn’t miss the signs. He was simply desperate not to see them. Desperate to believe that someone as indelibly ruined as Nick would manage to pull himself up out of that hole.

But he was wrong. He’d let himself think... it’s getting harder to think. He leans more heavily on the horn. The sound fractures his skull.

***

“So… what happened, how’d he get the drop on you?” Dean’s asking like he doesn’t actually want to poke at it, but he’s compelled to say something anyway.

Sam knows the feeling. The oppressive quiet is somehow too much like the drive up, with Nick in the backseat—even though Nick was anything but quiet; loud but benign, hallucination made solid. Intangible, until he wasn’t, until his human flesh crashed into Sam’s.

It was an odd slip in time, listening to that harmless off-key singing in the dead silence. It was funhouse-mirror strange to glance out of the corner of his eye and see that somehow Dean was grimacing at the off-color taunts—for a second, it was as if Dean could hear into Sam’s mind, or else that he’d taken up residence there too.

”I don’t know,” says Sam, several seconds too late. It’s not really a lie. It was stupid to think all that was behind him, and he’s not sure why he did it, why he assumed he could handle Nick in a fight.

Dean makes a noncommittal sound.

They drive in silence (actual silence, no sound in Sam’s head) for a few more minutes.

***

The car door rattles. Sam startles upright and falls off the horn; the noise in his head slackens.

“Dean,” says Sam. It’s Dean. Dean’s cursing, fumbling with the keys. Sam should help him. He fumbles for the handle, tries—

The door’s open. “Sam!”

“Nnngh,” he tries. He can’t make the words come out. “S’gone. He.”

“Sammy—you and your thick fucking head, come on, come on, big guy, you’re fine—”

“Lucifer,” Sam gasps. That one’s easier to get out.

“Not Lucifer,” says Dean, “Nick cold-cocked you good, but you’re fine, okay?”

“No,” says Sam, or he thinks he does. “Help.” Help, help, help. He’s being yanked out of the car, pulled out bodily. He struggles but not for long, the light cuts through his eyes, too sharp.

Dean’s pushed his arm under Sam’s, gripping Sam’s ribs. Sam blinks stupidly at the ground. He buckles forward and throws up, retching emptily onto the pavement.

***

“So, the blood I get, but where’d Nick get the grace? Is that something we need to be worried about now, secret fuckin’—horcruxes or whatever?”

Sam considers this briefly, with faint horror—thinks about vials of Lucifer stashed in his vaults like little phylacteries, contingency plans waiting for the wrong tripwire to spring. “I don’t think so,” he says. The possibility of his death hadn’t seemed to hit home for Lucifer even in the moment he was stabbed. “Nick must have extracted it himself.”

“Extracted?”

Sam suddenly remembers that Dean hadn’t been around when he and Cas had tried to get out Gadreel’s grace, for that spell. “Yeah. Remember Gadreel?”

Dean glances sharply at him, then looks away. “Right. Yeah, I remember now.”

The drive on in uncomfortable silence.

Dean rubs the back of his neck. “So. So, when Michael went through my psychic maintenance pipes—he left behind some grace, huh?”

“Probably,” Sam says. “That’s probably part of how he got back in.” He glances sideways at Dean, trying to gauge his expression. “I’m sorry,” he offers. It’s paltry next to the nausea of the realization, he knows, but he can’t bring himself to say anything else. Michael’s dead now. Lucifer, Nick, Gadreel—all dead now.

***

Dean says something. He’s shouting. There are hands in Sam’s hair, damp hot fabric pressing hard against his temple. The world does a dizzy loop and then he’s staring at the sky.

The air hurts, the gravel prickles on his skin like knives, he’s too stiff to move away. He’s going blind. Where did Lucifer go?

“The Empty,” says Dean. His face is blurry and worried, hovering.

“Lucifer, Lucifer’s, he’s gonna—”

Dean pinches him hard on the shoulder, Sam flinches away. “You seeing things? Hey. Stay with me, it’s just us. Okay. Donatello!”

Dean’s hands are a heavy, grounding weight. The world tilts on a nauseous axis.

***

“Wish I’d just let you kill him,” muses Dean, after another long minute.

“No, man, you were right,” says Sam. “I was out of line.” He’s looking out the window, at the dirty snow, broken through with patches of brown grass and scrub oak.

“You couldn’t have known,” insists Dean, apparently intent on easing Sam’s guilt.

Sam scoffs. Dean shouldn’t bother.

“Cmon,” Dean says, focusing in on his goal now, a dog with a bone, “you couldn’t have. How could you have guessed, huh? Everyone else on the planet, it takes two seconds of Lucifer’s smart mouth before they wanna shoot him in the face just so he shuts up. Who’d have guessed Nick’d be the one dick in existence to actually like the guy?”

Sam gives him a sharp glance. Shrugs. “He’s not the only one who does.”

“…What?” Dean stares at him.

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Most of Hell? Plus a fair chunk of Heaven, plus who knows how many sects of human followers.”

“Oh.”

Dean’s still looking at him like he expected something else. It coils uneasy in Sam’s stomach.

“I really should have—figured, though,” says Sam, finally.

It’s a too-long, too-quiet drive, without anyone in the backseat.

***

It’s a slow-moving nightmare, this disconnect between his head and his mouth. The only thing preserved is the urgency, awful and bloody. But he can’t marshal it, can’t connect it, can’t remember how—he blinks dumbly at Dean, at the icy sky. “Nick’s getting him back, blood, grace, s’a ritual.”

Dean freezes. His hands go still. “Fuck. Shit, dammit—now? Where’d he go?”

“Dunno. He’s got—his grace—Jack’s blood—” The panic has him fighting, batting weakly against Dean’s tight grip. He can’t think through it, a molasses-thick dream where all he can do is writhe and struggle against the syrupy weight pinning him down, try vainly to push away the slimy stifling horror in time.

“Sam—focus, okay. Shit. Okay. We can handle—we’re on top of this—I’ll call—”

Dean knows.

Sam’s warned him.

He’s done it—Dean and Cas and Jack and Mom will—Sam lets his eyes slip closed, just for a second.

***

How long had Sam let Nick wander, unfettered, with a piece of Lucifer nestled in his soul? How well did Nick know Sam, how much had he seen? How well did he know Dean? How much did Sam let his stupid impulse to—to fix someone Lucifer broke, blind him to basic safety precautions?

And now that the damage is done, as always, Sam has the time and the hindsight to look back and see all the cracks in his intentions, the places where he’d thought his motives were pure and his actions were just, where he’d allowed self-delusion and selfish need to drive him onwards without caring about the fallout.

It’s that fucked up self-righteous part of himself, that need to be right, that need for something to go right, that lets him think that just because he has a worthy goal, he’s excusable.

It’s the reason for the near miss today. It’s the reason nearly everyone they saved from that other world is now dead, buried with too little ceremony in a mass grave in Kansas, far, far from their home. It’s the reason for a whole hell of a lot more, if Sam wants to go back a year or several.

He doesn’t know why he keeps wanting things like this for himself. The shame should be whittled to an unbreakable point by now, a mechanism to keep Sam from fucking things up irretrievably; and yet he keeps pushing through it anyway, and the blood keeps building up on his hands.

Nick flinching from his hands, glancing up at Sam from hooded eyes—how long did it take? How many of those times that Nick stared at him had been with twisted, insane jealousy and not deep unease, as Sam had assumed?

Sam noticed him looking; he couldn’t not. Sam was the one taking care of him, after all: feeding him, bandaging his wound, bringing him news and human contact that Nick had seemed to grasp at like a man drowning, his understandable awkwardness aside.

Sam asked after his nightmares. Sam asked him carefully if he remembered anything useful about Michael. Sam stitched together his flesh. Sam kept tabs on Nick, watching his human movements and his human posture. Nick ate, Nick slept, Nick hissed in pain under Sam’s hands, and Sam tried to keep his careful thrill quiet—he curled his toes and licked his lips and slowed his breathing.

Must be weird for you, helping me, Nick had said.

And it had been weird, Sam agreed. Just, not in any way that was quantifiable or straightforward. Being around him was like being suspended over knives, tense and perfect. Safe and unsafe. Proof that this wasn’t ten years ago, or seven, that Sam could inhabit his fear and come out unscathed and breathing hard and tingling—that Sam could shove all his issues into one box with one face, minimize and control whatever the world threw at him, lose sleep and come out the stronger for it.

Sam looked forward to visiting Nick, every time, with an anticipatory adrenaline like being ratcheted up the lift hill on a rollercoaster, waiting for that safe, sickening drop. Waiting to come out sane.

He’s a junkie, through and through—can he complain that it turned out the ride wasn’t up to code, after all, when he’s the one who tore through all the caution tape, who hotwired the car and ignored the brakes?

***

Everything’s dim and red like this. His pulse thunders sick and loud. No matter how many times Sam’s died, he can never shake the animal terror. There’s a point where mortal instinct takes over; the shift from pain-without-purpose to soul suffocation, the body’s last-ditch scream.

It’s okay, though. He’s done it.

“Stay with me, now. We’re just gonna play a little game.”

It’s happening. His brain’s clawing uselessly at life. It’s the last starbursts of agony.

Not so perfect now, Sam thinks. What he did to himself, what he would have done to himself. How many rocks, the ways he would have smashed his own bones apart if it would have changed a single thing.

“Just count with me,” Dean says.

#my fic #14.17 #sam winchester #sam and nick #sam and dean #sam and possession #sam and injury #sam and guilt #and a little bit of #sam and mary #I'm back on my sam'n'nick shit #can't get these two out of me head #HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM!!

[iheardarumorxxx]

Midnight Sun, Chapter 9 - Port Angeles

Right. I remember this chapter from Twilight. I also have heard quite a bit about this chapter. This is gonna be a ride. 

Eddie starts off this chapter saying that he used to be the ‘responsible’ one. I would like to remind everyone that Edward Anthony Masen Cullen spent a few years eating people he percieved to be horrible criminals because he didn’t like animal blood and was being a whiny baby. But go off, Eddie.

SM is still trying to paint Jessica as a rude bitch and I still don’t buy it. It is extremely clear to anyone with eyeballs that Mike has a thing for Bella, and it is pretty obvious that this date he’s going on with Jessica is because Bella said no. So her thoughts come off as insecure. She’s a teenage girl, so I think insecure is a pretty standard thing. Not always, but SM has painted these kids as the stereotypical teens, so.

Basically, I still don’t buy the attempt to make Jessica seem evil.

Bella has wandered off to go get that book she wanted, and Eddie is simply freaking out because he let his daughter out of his sight for one minute and she wandered off. He’s about half a second away from considering getting a leash to put on her. Seriously, though, that’s how this reads. A parent frantic because they lost their child in a crowded store or park. We all know she’s gonna get a serious scolding for this one. Maybe even grounded.

a volly of snarls erupted from my throat

Okay, we’re still not to the big rant about vampire instincts in this universe, yet, but I want you guys to remember this for later. It absolutely aides in the point I plan to make there. Also a ‘volly’ of snarls. That sounds so forced and I genuinely laughed out loud when I read it. Anyway, Eddie has found Bella and she is with the Evil Bad Guys Who Have Ill Intentions. 

I would see how he enjoyed the hunt when he was the pray. I would see what he thought of my style of hunting.

Technically a spoiler because it hasn’t happened yet in this book, but not because we’ve seen it in Twilight. Eddie literally does not do anything to this Lanny guy or his friends. He gets out of the car, makes a mean face at them, and then gets back in the car and drives off. Maybe SM has Eddie go back out and hunt them later after he drops Bella off, but that doesn’t fit in with his squeaky clean good boy persona that Daddy Carlisle puts on him, so I doubt it. The scene as we know it comes off as very ‘man, if my girlfriend wasn’t here I’d kick your ass’. Because Eddie is a lot of bloated, puffed up talk.

When SM uses dialogue tags like ‘ordered’ to describe how Eddie says things, it just really hammers home that point I’ve been making about red flags. Even if it’s practical, like him telling Bella to put on a seat belt, especially since Pires bend the will of cars to their inane and idotic physics.

We went on a tangent about one of Eddie’s kills from his Vampire Batman days, and like honestly? I watch a lot of Criminal Minds. I see a lot of this kind of stuff, and it is absolutely awful that people like that exist in the world. I’m not saying that they shouldn’t be stopped. HOWEVER, this idea Eddie has that he was playing a good guy by taking justice into his own hands, I don’t jive with that. Now, I am aware of how faulty the criminal justice system is, especially with victims of sexual assault and domestic violence. I’ve lived that, myself. But if Eddie is so comfortable taking another life, no matter how he tries to justify it, he is no better than the people who he’s deciding to kill for their crimes.

a highly justifiable murder

See, this. This is why I don’t buy that SM’s Cullens are the paragons of good that she is constantly trying to say they are. There is no such thing as a justifiable murder, no matter what. Solving heinous acts with heinous acts simply perpetuates a cycle of heinous acts. 

I wasn’t giving her a chance to say no.

This is a trend that will continue throughout the entire series. I will point you to all of the times that Edward never gave Bella a choice in a matter, including leaving her in New Moon, and DISMANTLING HER CAR ENGINE IN ECLIPSE SO THAT SHE COULDN’T GO SEE HER FRIEND. That one in particular rubs me the wrong way for reasons, but we won’t do that here. Just know that Edward never actually lets Bella make a choice in this series, and even when he pretends to, he does everything in his power to make the outcome go his way.

And now we’re at the restaruant. I’ve heard some stuff about this scene and god, can I not WAIT, but for now, let’s just talk about the one off waitress character. She is clearly only here to be a rival to Bella for this scene. Brief, unimportant, underdeveloped. And honestly? One off characters don’t actually need that development, not really, but what I can’t stand about this one is that she is literally only here, both in this book and in Twilight, so that SM can puff up how clearly Bella is so much better than she is. Because, you see, Eddie doesn’t find the pretty hostess attractive, he only has eyes for Bella. Her entire point is so that Edward can look at Bella, and therefore, the audience as Bella is their SI for this world, and go on about how much better and prettier and more perfect she is than this woman. It’s just gross.

“Do I dazzle you?”

This is still, in my personal opinion, the best and most iconic line in a series full of iconic lines. Eddie the Dazzle Machine. Charming the pants off people when he’s trying to scare the shit out of them. It’s hilarious, and so fuckin’ romance novel cliche, and I love it.

This restaurant is apparently a real place in the real Port Angeles. And from what I understand, at least when the Twilight craze was in full swing back in 2008, they got a lot of extra business and a lot more people ordering the mushroom ravioli. Even put something about Twilight on their menu. Good for them, taking advantage of that free marketing. I have never been to Port Angeles, and am allergic to mushrooms, so I can’t say I’ve experienced the dish, but if any of you have, please let me know if it’s worth the hype.

Its so funny that right now, Eddie is worried about Bella being cold and going into shock, while Bella is over there huffing the fumes off his jacket like it’s a paint can, and he can’t even tell that that’s what she’s doing. The girl is doing everything short of just shoving her whole face in it and inhaling, but he’s too thick to get it. 

And here we are folks. The meat and potatoes of this chapter. The big comparison. The reason the cover has a pomegranete on it. Edward Anthony Masen Cullen has the absolute GALL to compare Bella, the boring, walking video game avatar to Persephone. Lets break down Persephone for a second here. There’s a lot to break down, but let’s stick to the basics, for fear that this rant gets wickedly out of hand before I can stop it. Persephone radiates optimism and hope. Persephone is soft, sweet, but has a temper that could kill a man. Persephone is sympathetic. When in the ever loving FUCK has Isabella Swan ever shown any of those characteristics? She is NEVER optimistic about anything. She fucking exists in a constant cloud of negative thought and assuming the worst. She isn’t hopeful about ANYTHING, not even her future with her PRECIOUS Eddie because she’s always questioning his intentions and feelings for her. She is not sympathetic in the slightest, no matter what SM tries to shove down my throat. She treats her friends like shit, she manipulates and lies her way through conversations so she doesn’t have to deal with them, she compares Mike to a FUCKING DOG. Bella is not comparable to Persephone, and it’s fucking beyond ham-fisted, it’s fucking EGREGIOUS to try to make that comparison. 

I could see more of an argument for comparing Eddie to Hades, since, ya know, Hades fucking stole Persephone to be his wife and most stories about Hades paint him as kind of a moody, brooding dickbag, but I’m still calling fucking foul on this attempt at comparison, SM. No dice.

Moving on.

Eddie describing Bella’s skin as ‘velvety’ gives me war flashbacks to those grocery store checkout novels with Fabio on the cover that my mom used to read. Eghhh.

So, Bella touches Eddie’s hand and it’s described in a way that gives me very G-rated sex vibes. Which just makes me wanna tell them to get a room because they’re in public right now, and also don’t do that in front of Bella’s salad ravioli.

Eddie is still being super controling and weird about Bella eating, and honestly, I super wish that Bella had had the good sense to get the hell out of there with Jess and Angela. Or that she would have the good sense now to excuse herself, find someone on staff, ask to borrow a phone, and call her dad. Because this guy is literally throwing out every red flag that exists. I know I say this a lot, but if Bella were a normal girl, she would not be charmed by this guy, she would be freaking creeped out and trying to get away from him. He isn’t even subtle about his creep factor or charming enough to play it off.

Edward thinking he has any edge at all is like white bread thinking it’s the right kind of bread for a hamburger.

Anyway, chapter ends with Eddie paying the bill and the pair getting in the car to head home. And the drama chord of the last sentence that’s supposed to play in your head when you read it falls flat. They’re on the way back to Forks and Eddie is chomping at the bit to hear Bella’s latest theory that we know from Twilight isn’t actually a theory so much as she heard a story from Jacob and then did some searching on some shitty Angelfire website. Or Geocities. Either way. And then she just went ahead and had a big old prophetic dream about it. 

Next time, we get the awkward car ride home and more. Thanks for hanging around guys. As always, feel free to message me (though, please note to anyone who has sent me anon messages that are rude or angry because I’m making fun of this book, I’m gonna ignore you.), recommend what books I should put on my list for my next recap series, and feel free to buy me a snack using the CashApp tag in my bio.

See you next time, babes.

#sierra recaps stuff #midnight sun #midnight sun spoilers #midnight sun recap #twilight #ms chapter 9

[angelicthor]

forgive me father

pairing: priest!bucky barnes x reader

summary: father james isn’t your average priest. 

warnings/genre: +18 only, smut - pretty much pwp, unprotected sex, spanking

masterlist 

a/n: another repost but this had some major editing - 2016 me couldn’t write for shit, thats for sure 

Church was not where you wanted to be heading on a Friday night that was for sure, but your mother was unable to make it and you promised her that you would drop off the cakes she had made for the bake sale. You hadn’t actually entered a church since you were a girl, preferring to a lifestyle that was slightly at odds with the way the parish would have you live.

The heavy wooden doors were open and you walked straight in, finding it empty. Your brows creased in confusion as to where the priest could be and you decided to go look for him, venturing to the back of the church towards the office space there and knocking on the closed door, the sound echoing loudly throughout the otherwise silent building. The door swung open and your mouth dropped open at what stood before you.

He cannot be the Priest...

You looked into the pale blue eyes of the man before you, taking in the dark brown locks that fell to his shoulders and his jawline that looked sharper than steel. The roguish smirk that graced his face gave him every vibe a priest should definitely not have.

“A-Are you the Priest?” You stuttered out, unsure just how a man that looked like that lived a life of celibacy.

He chuckled as he tapped the white collar around his throat and your eyes fell to his slender fingers, mind racing with the sinful possibilities of what he could do with them.

“This thing’s a bit of a clue, ain’t it doll?” He asked bemusedly, the deep timbre sparking all kinds of wicked thoughts. The dark glint in his eye made you wonder if he knew what he was doing to you?

You'd never seen a priest like him before, that was certain: when you used to come to church as a girl with your mother they were all balding old men who wore socks and sandals, there was never anything even remotely sexually appealing about them, but this guy was roaming his eyes over you like he wanted to put you on your knees and teach you how to worship and god help you, you would let him.

He tilted his head back towards his office, “Did you want to come in?”

Nimbly nodding your head, you followed him into the office, shutting the door behind you.

“I-uh, I just brought my mom’s cakes for the bake sale, she couldn’t make it so I said I’d drop them off,” You told him, licking your lips to try to counteract the sudden dryness of your mouth, his eyes following the movement like a hawk.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as he came back from around his desk to pluck the tin out of your hands, his fingers running over yours more than they needed to. Your breath hitched as your head snapped up, noticing how close you two actually were to each other.

“Thank you,” his husky voice could be felt on the skin of your face, a burning igniting in your cheeks in response. You watched mesmerized as his teeth captured his bottom lip, pulling it inwards, and all you could think was about how much you wanted to bite his lips yourself.

Shaking your head at your shameful fantasies, you introduced yourself to him.

“I’m Father James,” He extended his hand out to you, “But my friends all call me Bucky.”

His touch electrified you, sending a slight shiver down your back and you could not figure out what it was about this man that made you react in such a way.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in service, Y/N?”

Your eye’s went wide, worried you’d offended him for not showing up to services.

“Uh- No,no, I’m not a very religious person I guess?”

His eyebrow raised in question at you, “Oh, why not?”

Your head titled to the side and without thinking you answered him, “I don’t know, I guess I just like sinning to much to give it up.”

Your mouth fell open when you realized what you said, your brain scrambling to think of an excuse that could get you out of what you’d just revealed. Whilst you were sputtering for something - anything - to say, you failed to notice how Father James' breathing accelerated as his gaze darkened.

He cut off your rambling by pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his large hands carelessly dropping the tin and pulling your hips flush against his so you could feel the hard bulge already there. You gasped into his mouth and he took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth in a dirty kiss. You were stunned to say the least, thoughts racing with how a priest that you had just met no less, was now kissing you with an unrivaled passion; you thought about how wrong it was, not only was he a priest but you were in a church, that was like double the sin and oh my god his lips feel nice.

Hell - I'm definitely going to hell.

When he gently nibbled on your bottom lip, you were gone, surrendering yourself completely to him, eyes slipping shut as you threaded your fingers through his hair and returned his attentions tenfold.

Oh fuck it, I never took a damn vow.

He walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit the large wooden desk in the center of the room, his lips leaving yours to trail kisses down your jaw and throat as you clung to him. He effortlessly lifted you onto the desk and you marveled at his hidden strength, hands trailing down his arms and feeling the defined muscles hidden under his shirt. A particular sharp nip where your shoulder had you gasping, eyes shooting open and meeting his, feeling just as disheveled as he looked.

“So darlin’, just how much do you like sinning?” His voice was raspy, thick with desire which only served to fuel your own.

The feeling of his hard cock pressed against your core coupled with the lust-blown look in his eyes gave you a burst of confidence and so you slowly traced the front of his shirt with your fingertip, lips ghosting along the shell of his ear as you whispered; “Why don’t you find out, Father?”

The growl that tore from his throat caused your pussy to clench in need; his lips returning to yours with renewed vigor as his hand slowly crept up your thigh, pulling your skirt up with it. His fingers starting to stroke against your clothed core where wet patch was already visible, only adding to the stimulation you could feel on your clit as you whined into his mouth, your hips rolling to try and increase his gentle pressure on your swollen clit.

His fingers pressed harder against you in response, a high pitched cry escaping you as you shamelessly rutted against his hand, ignoring the smug smirk that played on his lips as he watched you so desperate for his touch. His hands left you much to your chagrin, quickly pulling the dress over your head, leaving you in just your underwear in the middle of his study. He unhooked your bra and flung it to the side before pushing your shoulders down onto the desk and languidly pulling your panties down your legs, dropping them on the floor without a care before slowly lowering to his knees right in front of your bare core. Yanking your legs apart, he hooked your knees over his shoulders, hot breath fanning over your wet cunt as your writhed at the sensation, silently pleading with him to touch you already as you fingers tugged at his hair. You could feel the corners of his lips turn up into a smirk as he ghosted his mouth down the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

“Please.”

The word tumbled from your mouth like a desperate prayer and it was all he needed to hear before he dived between your folds, tongue working dexterously over you as he lapped up your wetness as if it was being poured from the holy grail itself. His tongue traced around clit in light circles that made you dizzy before your body lurched as he inserted on thick digit into your tight cunt before quickly adding another, curling them against your front wall until he found the spot that made you cry out like a heavenly choir.

It didn’t take long for you to fall apart, his talented tongue paired with his fingers ruthlessly hitting just the right spot inside off you overloading your senses until your toes were curling and your back arched as pleasure flooded your every nerve.

“Fuck Doll, you taste divine” he groaned against the skin on your thigh, biting softly before licking away the sting as he watched you come down from your high.

Wordlessly, you pulled him up to you, pressing your lips to his in a hurried kiss and tasting yourself on his tongue. The combination of your arousal and his own taste making your head spin.

“James, please, I need you - fuck - I need you to fuck me,” your voice was strained, your desperation leaking into your words.

He chuckled at you when you tried to buck your hips into him, smirking down at you: “You only had to ask Doll.”

He made a show of slowly unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper to his pants, pushing them down just enough so that he could free his hard cock from his boxers and pumping his length slowly in his hand as his eyes greedily wandered over your naked form. He made no attempt to removed any item of clothing and you eyes widened as you realized he was going to fuck you whilst wearing his clerical clothes, dog collar and everything.

You yelped when he flipped you over, pushing your chest flat against the desk, sensitive nipples pressed against the cold wood causing you to hiss. He lifted your hips so your toes barley touched the floor, hands wandering over your skin, tracing over your sides and back as you wiggled beneath his touch, desperate to have him fill you already. One hand traveled down your back, grabbing a handful of your hair whilst the other had a death-grip on your hip. You knew he was adding to the collection of bruises he’d already caused on your skin.

Your hands clawed at the desk beneath you as he ran the tip of his throbbing cock between your glistening folds, your arousal already returned tenfold since your orgasm. You tried to push your hips back but his grip remained strong: “Fuck. James please, please-”

The scream that tore from your throat cut of your plea as Bucky bottomed out, thrusting his hips flush against your ass. Giving you no time to adjust, he set a brutal pace, slamming his hips forward, watching with sadistic glee as your ass bounced against the force of his hips. You let the cries fall freely from your lips, adding to the grunts Bucky was releasing as well as the sickening sound of skin slapping against skin.

“Fuck! So - oh fuck - fucking tight, doll,” He panted out through gritted teeth, “So fucking wet too, this all for me Y/N?”

You moaned in response but apparently that wasn’t what he wanted as his hand came down harshly on your left cheek, the skin throbbing where his hand had hit.

“Fuck, yes! Yes! All for you, James, only you.”

You arched your back up more, pulling him deeper within you so he hit your g-spot with every thrust. You both groaned at the new feeling, your pleasure building within you, begging to be released.

“Please, so close, so fucking close. Don’t stop,” Your begging payed off as his fingers crept to your clit, rubbing tight circles over it, pushing you over the edge and into oblivion.

Your legs shook as your hands clawed at the desk beneath you, needing something to cling to as your orgasm pulsed through your body, filling you with euphoria. The feeling of your slick walls clamping down on his cock threw Bucky over the edge too, his hands grasping your hips as his stuttered into yours. An animalistic growl falling from his lips as you milked him of his cum.

His body collapsed on top of yours, arms caged around your head as you both came down from your highs. The silence of his study now filled with deep breaths and pants as you tried to regain composure. You could feel him pressing soft kisses to the nape of your neck and confusion washed over you at what the hell had just transpired.

“So, uh, what kind of a Priest are you exactly?”

You felt him smirk against your skin before he nipped the lobe of your ear, whispering darkly: “The bad kind.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #angelicthorwrites

[escapingreality1992]

Secret Pen Pals Ch. 4

Keira’s POV

           Weeks passed too quickly. My parents came up the weekend after my birthday and we had a fun time eating sushi and talking. Of course, they asked how my love life was doing and I noticed disappointment cross their features when I said I wasn’t seeing anybody. Not yet anyway.

           ‘I’m not getting any younger. You need to find someone soon so I can have grand-children,’ Mom had told me that night.

           ‘Mom. I thought you’re too young for them,’ I stated.

           ‘But honey, don’t you want someone to spend the rest of your life with? Start a family?’ she argued. You have no idea how much I want that. Maybe I’ve found that one person. Steve, I thought.

           ‘Mom. Please,”

           ‘She’s right. You’ve been in New York for two years. Surely, you’ve found people to go out with?’ my dad chimed in.

           “Dad? Not you too. I’ll find someone when I’m ready. I’ve been too busy with work,’

           ‘I don’t think watching dogs keeps you that busy. What about your friends? Can’t they set you up with someone?’ Dad stated. There it was, the disappointment of what I did for a living. I could’ve told them about Steve and the letters, but I knew I’d get the same reaction as my friends.

           ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore. If that’s all, then I’ll see you for Thanksgiving. Love you. Bye,’ I had stated. It had been all they wanted, leaving me alone in the apartment once they left. That night I had cried myself to sleep, clutching the framed picture of the doodle Steve had sent me.

           After the discussion took place, I stayed busy watching dogs, the furry companions bringing me comfort. Too bad Steve couldn’t bring me comfort by being here with me. I could write to him, but it wouldn’t be the same as letting him hold me as the pain drifted away. I got to enjoy the company of Jamie and Sherlock, my favorite of the regular clients I had. Don’t get me wrong. I loved all dogs, but something about the goldens made me happier and comforted in a way that no other dog could.

           You’re probably wondering about my friends and if I hung out with them. The answer is, I did, at a special event at the hospital where Jana worked. I wore a long silver dress with skinny straps and silver heels to match. I thought it’d be a great night until Jana had tried to set me up with someone. I say tried because it didn’t go well. She brought him over and he immediately struck me as someone who was only interested in sex and himself.

           In the brief conversation we had, he had told me his name – David Clayton – and quickly dismissed the idea of reading, claiming it was a waste of time and ‘who would want to spend their time reading when they could fuck?’ Yeah, those exact words. He proceeded to hit on me after that lovely sentence and grabbed my ass thinking he was charming me into sleeping with him that night.

           My reaction? Removing his hand and stomping on his foot, slapping him across the face, to which he called me ‘bitch’ causing me to walk away.

           “Keira! What the hell? I thought you two might hit it off. If it’s about the reading-,” Jana shouted at me. I didn’t expect her to be mad about it, which only made me furious.

           “No, I can deal with someone who doesn’t read or doesn’t like reading but he’s dismissed it altogether. He doesn’t think anyone should read saying it’s a waste of time. By the way he’s only interested in having sex. If he wasn’t then he would have hit on me straight away or grabbed my ass. Jana, you have poor taste in men when it comes to setting me up with someone. I don’t need or want your help. I’m going home,” I snapped.

           Turning on my heel, I strode out to the lobby, grabbed my thick red trench coat I always wore during the colder November days and walked into the chilly New York night air. Normally, I would’ve taken a cab back to my apartment, but I wanted to walk, not caring if my feet bled from the heels. I needed to breathe; my heart hurt, and I wanted someone to hold me and make the excruciating pain go away. Not just anyone. I wanted Steve. I wasn’t aware he happened to be at the same hospital in an undercover mission or that a friend of his would investigate me.

           Now on this present day, I had no dogs to take care of due to the oncoming storm in a few hours. To prepare, I decided to head to the local grocery store to get supplies; bread, peanut butter, batteries, two flashlights, water, matches, candles, and a couple of lighters in case the power went out. I even decided to pick up several bags of chips as snack if I wanted one. The store was packed, and I patiently waited while checking out, eagerly waiting to get back home to start reading.

           Thanks to Steve, I had picked up a copy of The Haunting of Hill House and the storm provided the perfect day to devour it.

           “Can you believe this weather has people all in a frenzy?” A voice asked me. I turned to find a woman behind me with long, auburn red hair and green eyes.

           “Yeah, though I’d think they’d be a little more relaxed. Especially after what happened with that alien attack a couple of years ago. Still, it doesn’t surprise me. Back in my hometown, people went crazy whether it stormed bad or snowed,” I answered.

           “You’re not from New York?” She asked.

           “No. I’ve been here for two years. I’m from North Carolina. You know what I don’t understand?”

           “What’s that?”

           “Why people buy bread and milk? I mean, sure bread is fine if you want sandwiches. But milk? What are they going to do with it besides drink it? Are people going to make soppy milk bread sandwiches?” This got her laughing and she shrugged, a section of hair falling on her shoulder.

           “Maybe. I’m Natasha. You look like you’ve got the essentials. No perishables. Smart. I’d eat peanut butter sandwiches too,” She told me, gesturing to my basket.

           “I try. I love storms. I like to watch the lightning in the dark. They’re sort of tranquil to me. I’m Keira by the way,”

           “Nice to meet you. Tranquil? A storm?” She asked.

           “I know. Ironic isn’t it? Tranquil with all that chaos? They’re beautiful, though. Even if they cause destruction,”

           “You sound like a friend of mine. Look, you’re next. Be careful getting home,” She told me. I placed my basket down on the cashier’s shelf and walked up to the counter to pay once everything got rang up.

           “What friend? I…oh, she’s gone,” I stated, turning back and finding that Natasha had disappeared.

           “Okay then. She seems nice,” I muttered. For someone I just met, she and I appeared to get along great. We had a better conversation than my usual friends, I’ll tell you that. Grabbing my purchases, I walked back to my apartment and unloaded them; I set up candles in the living room and the bedroom, not lighting them unless I had to. I placed the peanut butter and bread next to each other and kept one flashlight in the living room and the other in my bedroom.

           The case of water I kept near the fridge in case of an emergency and the matches I stuffed in the utensil drawer. I also shoved the bags of chips in the pantry for later. Satisfied with everything, I sat down to read.

              At the first crack of thunder, I looked up from my book and checked the time. 5 p.m. Perfect timing. I marked my place in the book and fixed a cold cut sandwich – ham and cheese with mayonnaise and added pepperoni – before the power went out or if the power went out in this case. As I ate, carrying the sandwich with me, I opened the curtains to my windows to watch. It was dark, the ending of Daylight Savings Time, making it get darker earlier.

           Lightning flashed and another crack of thunder sounded, bringing a smile to my lips. I stood at the window in the living room, enjoying the storm and chewing on my sandwich. Around the fifth lightning strike, the power flickered, and I grabbed the flashlight did it, shrouding me in darkness, the calming night beginning.

 Steve’s POV

           Astonished by the time that passed by, I managed to stay busy. Missions and meetings took over my days and left me without time to write to Keira. I hoped things had cheered up for her after her birthday. I secretly hoped I had been the main cause for it with my gift and words.

           Thankfully, Natasha hadn’t pestered me about her, but I feared what it might mean since she hadn’t. She could easily be conducting her own under my nose. I tried not to worry about it and focused on the tasks given to us. After all, there was the gala we had been sent to, undercover to watch a target who wanted to cause trouble.

           It took place at a hospital and we dressed out best, mingling among the crowd as normal people. I found it ironic that this gala was taking place at the same hospital where Strange used to work but decided not to bring Bucky in case it opened up some wounds with what was happening. As I was mingling, a woman with short brown hair and hazel eyes approached me.

           “Hello, handsome. I haven’t seen you around here before. I’m Jana Elliot. What brings you to this event?” she greeted me.

           “Security,” I answered and continued surveying the crowd.

           “Security, huh? Maybe we should go back to my place and you can secure my bedroom. What do you say?”

           “No thanks, Ma’am. I’m very busy. I don’t have a lot of time to spare,” I commented. Jana was pretty, sure but my heart began to yearn for someone else. Keira.

           “I-,”

           “Bitch!” Some guy shouted, cutting her off. I turned towards the sound but only saw the head of a guy bending down to cradle his foot, too many people blocking my view of the source of his distress.

           “You’ve got to be kidding me. Excuse me,” Jana stated, and she took off across the room.

           “Did you turn down someone?” Sam’s voice came over the ear comm.

           “We’re not here to flirt. We’ve got to this job done. Does anybody have an eye on our target?” I ordered.

           “She was cute. Steve, you really need a girlfriend, or at least-,”

           “Natasha, not now. We’re not discussing my love life in the middle of the mission,”

           “Fine. I believe he was the one shouting. Some woman crushed his foot and slapped him. Serves him right. He grabbed her ass,” Nat stated. Oh great. Another asshole, I thought.

           “Keep your eyes on him. Nab him if you get a chance,” I ordered. About an hour later, we had him cornered and arrested for trying to run a scheme for an organization that was once close to HYDRA. He wanted to get it started again and we put an end to it before he could even try. Back on the jet, I got questioned more about my social life.

           “Seriously, when are you going to date? You need someone to love again,” Nat stated.

           “I’m not ready for a relationship,”

           “Bullshit. I know you’re ready when you look at the couples around you. You even look at Wanda and me with a longing to be with someone. You’ve got to put yourself out there. What about the new acquaintance of yours?” Nat stated, leaning over to whisper the last part. So, she didn’t want anyone to know it either, I thought. I shrugged and withdrew from the conversation. A common thing I did when I wanted the discussion to end.

              At the present time, we were getting prepared for the storm rolling in. Naturally, everyone thought it was Thor’s doing but he laid no claim to it.

           “Are you sure? Maybe you’re still angry at me for pulling that prank,” Loki stated, grabbing his book and plopping down on one of the couches in the lounge.

           “I’m sure. It’s a normal storm. I have nothing to do with it. Steve, where’s Natasha?” Thor answered, turning his attention on me.

           “She went out to grab a few things before the storm hits,” I commented. She had been gone a half hour, coming back with nothing in hand, confusing me.

           “I thought you needed some supplies,” I stated, gesturing to her empty hands.

           “I have everything I need here. I did meet someone interesting at the store though. You’re in trouble Steve. She’s lovely,” She told me, her lips twisting in a knowing smile. I frowned and pulled her aside into another room, so no one could hear us.

           “Natasha, you didn’t do what I think you did? Please tell me, you’re not investigating Keira?”

           “Don’t worry. I’m only seeing what she’s like. Maybe see if she’s got any dark secrets,”

           “No, don’t do that. I don’t need to do this. If you’re trying to deter me from writing to her, please stop. Stop this now, Natasha,” I snapped at her.

           “Steve, really? You don’t want to find out more about her before you meet her. I’m not trying to deter you. I’m just making sure she’s someone you really-,”

           “I should be able to decide that for myself. I don’t need you investigating her because she’s some threat. She’s not. I don’t get that from her. Stop investigating,” I argued. She looked shocked at my tone and I walked past her to my room. I was angry she had decided to dig around in Keira’s life. I should’ve known she’d do it ever since she had discovered my secret pen pal. I wanted to be the one who got to know her on my own, in my own time.

             Around 5, the first crack of thunder sounded, and I clambered off my bed to draw back the curtains to watch, despite the lights still on in my room. It was only a matter of time before the power went out and I patiently waited when it did. The seventh flash shut things off and I grabbed a flashlight, exiting my room to grab a bottle of water and fixed a peanut butter sandwich to eat, returning to the silence of my room.

           I sat watching the storm, a calmness sweeping over me. I hoped Keira was watching with me, wherever she was. Finishing my sandwich, I moved to the windowsill, watching the rain patter against the glass, illuminated by the lightning when it flashed. I sighed, wrapping my arms over my knees, thinking about her. What was she doing while watching the storm? Or if she wasn’t watching, what was she doing instead? Could she be wrapped up in blankets reading?

           All these thoughts were enough to motivate me to pen a letter to her. I climbed off and went downstairs to find candles and matches. While rummaging around in the drawers, I heard someone approach me.

           “Steve. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, but you’ve been keeping this girl a secret for a while. I didn’t know what else to do. Maybe you thought by keeping her secret, we wouldn’t look into her. She could’ve have been someone who writes to you to get to us. I needed to find out. Turns out she’s harmless and I like her,” Nat’s voice told me.

           “It’s fine. I still wish you hadn’t staged a run-in with her though. Before I’ve had a chance to meet her. I don’t believe Keira’s a threat. I just…I don’t know. I feel different every time I get a letter from her. Seeing her words on paper, it brings me joy. I…”

           “My god. You’re starting to fall for her. After only a few letters. Will you ever ask Keira to meet you? If so, when?”

           “I want to. You don’t know how much I want to. I’m not sure when would be best to meet her. Maybe after the holidays. Start a new year with her. Maybe fate will bring us together earlier. I’m honestly not sure. It scares me. I’m worried that she’ll treat me different when she finds out I’m Captain America,”

           “You’ll have to trust that she won’t. She’s writing to Steve Rogers, not Captain America. She’ll see past the hero and see you because you’re being yourself. I’m sure everything will work out the way it’s supposed to,” Natasha reassured me, giving me a hug.

           “Is she…when you saw her…was she…?” I said, stumbling for words. I wanted to know if she was truly beautiful, if she had the same beauty I imagined, despite my heart telling me so.

           “She’s lovely. Funny and sweet. At least, that’s what I got from our short conversation. I think you’re in trouble with this girl. You’re in danger of falling in love with her. Especially once you’ve met,” I nodded and retreated to my room to write my next letter.

  Keira’s POV

           As I watched the storm, I wondered if Steve was somewhere watching as well. I had lit up the candles and started reading as well. The book was creepy indeed, sending chills down my spine. It drew you in and I finished it with a shaky sigh, dreading to go to sleep.

           The storm had a way of keeping me invested in watching it for hours, forcing me to stay wide awake until it ended. Since I was already up and alert, I decided to pen the next letter, throwing in details of the last few days, wincing when I knew I was sending him more rants. I kept them in, wanting to get it off my chest. I asked about the storm in case he had been watching it with me, two souls connected in a magical way.

           Being silly, I took a few Polaroids of myself and slid them in the envelope, only to pull them back out. Should I let him see me now? Should I send him these? I thought. Deciding against it, I shoved the pictures away before taking a picture of the framed doodle on my desk, telling him I kept it there, drawing inspiration from it. I placed the letter on my nightstand planning on sending it out in the morning and went to sleep dreaming of us sitting together watching a magnificent storm.

   Three Days Later

           Nothing exciting happened after the storm, work returning back to normal as I had picked up another dog for a few days. A German Shepherd named Frank, who liked going for walks and playing ball in Central Park. I wrote up the review for Hill House and waited for the day I’d get a letter from Steve.

           Today happened to be the day when I opened my mailbox and saw his letter sitting on top. Running upstairs, I sprinted into my apartment and stretched out on my couch to begin reading.

              Keira,

           How have you been? I wonder if you’ve been as busy as I have. More meetings and events have kept me from taking a break. I even attended a gala as part of work and got approached by some girl who attempted to flirt with me. You know what’s interesting? The whole time I thought about you. My friends teased me about it for the rest of the night when they saw me turn her down. They’ve been pestering me about my love life lately, wanting me to start dating again. They’ve even gone so far as to trying to set me up on dates, which I’ve refused to go on.

           I need a deeper connection with people to date them. This connection with you, though we’ve only been communicating through letters, makes me feel things and the more I write to you the more connected I seem to be getting to you. I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. Not until these letters from you came.

             You too huh? Something we can both relate to, I thought. I smiled at the confession a feeling connected to me. Truth be told, I felt connected to him even if we hadn’t met.

             You’ve been occupying my mind and I can’t seem to stop thinking about you. I have an image in my head of what you look like and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. I know you’ll be perfect when we meet for the first time. I’m sorry to hear you spent your birthday alone. I hope you got some joy out if though. Even if you did dance around and drink wine. I hope I brought you some as well. I’m pleased you love your gift. I wasn’t sure if you would. People are picky about what they like. I should know, my friends can be like that sometimes.

             To your request of my favorite colors for a blanket, I like blue, like the sky and green. If you can find a shade that matches the color of your eyes, then that’s what I’d love. If you need an additional color, you’re welcome to include a crimson if you’d like.

           In other matters, did you watch the storm tonight? Maybe we were watching it together. It was quite calming. Tranquil, almost. I wanted you beside me in my arms. Keira, I think…I believe I’m…

             I sat up reading the next line, my heart hammering in my chest. Could he be developing feelings for me? Like I was for him?

             I find I’m having difficulty writing the next sentence. Please forgive me if it crosses a line. Here goes. I believe I’m starting to fall for you. I’m aware we haven’t been corresponding for very long, but I don’t know how else to describe how I’m feeling. Every time I receive a letter, I can’t help but smile and be excited by what you’ve written. I’d love to meet you sometime. Maybe after the holidays, if that’s alright with you? Perhaps fate might bring us together before then.

             Again, sorry if it crosses a line. I just needed to tell you before it’s too late. You don’t have to answer yet or at all if you don’t want to.

           Here’s a list of some of my favorites to bring this off the subject if I’ve made it awkward or weird.

             “You’re not crossing any lines. You’d be surprised about I how I feel about you,” I stated, dropping one hand to scratch the ears of Frank.

             Movie – Currently, it’s The Goonies. It’s funny and full of adventure. A great watch.

                       Music – Anything soft, laid back. Classical. You said you love Country. Tell me some I should be listening to.

             Book: The Shining by Stephen King. It messed with my head a little more than I’d like. Very spooky. Very psychological.

 I already gave you my favorite colors earlier. I don’t have any musicals I love either. I plan on watching Rent and any others you think I might be interested in.

             Season: Winter. I love snow and sitting by the fire with a book or movie. Maybe cuddling with you. There I go again. Sorry.

             Ideal date? Dinner and a movie. Old-fashioned, but it’s still romantic to me. Second idea? Coney Island, maybe.

             Ideal day? Like yours. Rainy day. Sleeping in. Buried in blankets, a book. Someone to cuddle with. Someone to kiss.

             Hoping you’ll write to me after my confession. Patiently waiting for you,

Steve

              I smiled, my lips stretching as far as they could. More tears of joy filled my eyes. I thought about crafting another letter but waited. He didn’t need to get two letters at nearly the same time. Plus, I needed time to think about his request of meeting.

           If we did, then maybe after the holidays would be best. It’d give us a start of a new year, new beginnings. But what happens if we met and didn’t like each other? It could happen…

           No, don’t do that to yourself. You already like each other on paper. You’re being yourself. I’m sure he is too, I thought. Besides, we could get to know each other more after we met.

           Still, I chose to wait until the next week to write to him with my answer. Instead, I went out and picked up the colors of yarn to begin creating his gift, his blanket. A perfect gift for Christmas.

  Steve’s POV

           Not risking anyone else finding out about the letters, I waited by the mailbox close to the time it’d be delivered each day. I was sure she had sent one the same time I had. The only difference being it wouldn’t contain her answer to my request. A good thing if she needed time think things over.

           Today, I stood by the mailbox, pacing until the truck arrived, the mailman stuffing the box full of letters or bills and driving off. I grabbed the medium stack, going through each piece until I found the one, I was looking for.

           I threw the other pieces of mail on the kitchen counter and found somewhere quiet to read Keira’s new letter.

              Steve,

           I have a lot to tell you. I debated on whether or not to say anything for fear that you only read complaints or rants, but I don’t know who else to turn to.

           First, my parents visited me, and we were having a good time until they pressured me into dating. Sometimes, I get too busy to go out and most of the people I’ve met are jerks. Dad thinks my job doesn’t take up a lot of time, but he’d be surprised. After they left, I cried myself to sleep holding onto your doodle.

Oh, the Polaroid shows you where I keep it. I framed it and it stays on my desk to help me draw inspiration.

  To make matters worse, I attended a gala at the hospital where my friend Jana works. She tried to set me up with a guy named David Clayton. He dismissed the whole idea of reading, hit on me and proceeded to grab my ass.

           My reaction, maybe an overreaction. I stomped on his foot and slapped him. He called me a bitch before I walked away. Jana got mad and I left, going home after a long walk. My heart hurt so much, I needed to take a walk to breathe.

             A tingle went down my spine as I realized we were at the same gala at the same time. We were only a few feet apart and I didn’t see her because people were blocking my view. I didn’t see her the whole night, too busy surveying the crowd to notice her arrival. Natasha had seen her when she slapped our target Her friend has poor taste, I thought. A chill went down my spine as I knew who had flirted with me at the gala. Another thought occurred to me. I wouldn’t be able to write to her about it because I’d have to explain what I was doing there. She’d know I’m Captain America. I wasn’t planning on keeping it from her forever, but I still didn’t want her to know yet.

              On a happier note, I met someone today who I had a great but short conversation with. Her name is Natasha. Thought I get the sense she might be a ghost. I turned away for a minute and turned back to find her gone. I could see myself being friends with her. She made me feel comfortable unlike my other friends. I met her at the grocery store before the storm. Isn’t it great? The storm? I hope you’re watching it with me. I know you’re a fan of them too.

             Keira likes Nat. I’ll have to tell her she made a good impression despite her plan to investigate Keira. I made no mention of it in my letter, afraid of driving her away. Leave the explanation until we meet. I smiled; glad we had been watching the storm. I felt connected to her by some great force I couldn’t see.

              I finished Haunting of Hill House tonight. You were right. It’s super creepy. It made me want to check all the doors in case they opened on their own. Poor Eleanor. Everyone was so cruel to her towards the end, only feigning being nice when they feared she’d do something crazy. The ending though, shocked me. Wonderful recommendation. Allow me to tell you one of mine. You might like the Dresden Files. It has a wizard and magic and all sorts of supernatural creatures. Tell me what you’re doing the next time you write, while you write. Tell me more about you friends. Who’s your oldest friend? Tell me your fears. Pull me deeper into your world.

           Tell me a story so warm, I can feel your arms around me. So, I can see it vividly in my mind. I’ll write to you on Thanksgiving. Don’t be alarmed by the address from North Carolina. I’ll be at my parents’ house.

Waiting for you,

Keira

             I released a deep sigh when I finished reading, my fingers brushing over the words again. I held the Polaroid in my free hand, a small smile tugging my lips. She drew inspiration from the drawing, and it made my heart grow fonder for her. I needed to meet her, to kiss her. Natasha was right. I was in danger of falling for her once I met her.

#captain america #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #love #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #avengers #tony stark #iron man #wanda maximoff #natasha/wanda #scarlet witch #winter soldier #bucky barnes #stephen strange #doctor strange #pen pals #secret pen pals #old-fashioned #bruce banner #thor #loki #vision #sam wilson #falcon

[kee-writestrashh]

Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

Summary:  You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events…

Chapter 41: Eye of the Storm

"So lemme get this straight, your father in law wants to kill his son and use the child inside of you to be groomed to his liking?" Tyene said, setting her empty glass down and giving you a hard look.

"Yes. But what's more is that Walda is pregnant apparently. If she has a boy too my son will be no better off. Just another Ramsay in Roose's eyes. All three of us will be killed." You said, throat feeling tight as you struggled to get the words out.

"Then we have to strike first." Tyene said, as if it were that simple.

"No. We can't. You don't understand. Ramsay doesn't know! Nobody knows except you. And it will stay that way. Do you understand? Tell no one." You said with a threatening snarl.

"How and why are you keeping this from Ramsay?! Friday night showed me he would love to kill his father."

You sighed, pulling your phone toward you. "That's the problem though, Ty. Rams doesn't want to kill his father. He wants his father to love him. It's sad. Roose hates him, and all Ramsay wants is for his father to approve of him. Just once to praise him. A pat on the back. And I'm afraid that's what's going to happen. Roose is going to lure him into a sense of false security and kill him once he thinks his father fucking loves him. Ramsay is like a toddler. He acts out to get a reaction from Roose, no matter how negative. Any response is better than none, right?" You unlocked your phone, thinking you better tell your mother the 'good news'.

"What are you saying?" Tyene asked, leaning back into the couch.

"I'm saying that Ramsay is unstable and vulnerable because he's fucked up in the head! Watch. Roose is going to prey on all the mental instability he has instilled into his son. I cannot let that happen! We need to strike. But I can't afford it until he makes the first move. And the most unsettling part of that is it is unpredictable. It may be tonight. It may be next week. Hell, Roose may not do shit until his newest child is born. I don't know. But I need to be ready. I need more girls in Kings establishments. Fuck the Lannister's for now. I could care less about them. We are at war within our own ranks and nobody but us know. But the Boys are not to know anything."

"Your secret dies with me. And I plan on living many, many more years." Tyene said, holding her pinky out to you.

You gave a laugh and took her pinky in yours.

"So, where are the Boys now?" She asked, standing and grabbing up her empty glass.

You too rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen.

"Don't know really. On the way back here we passed that group of men from Friday night. Rams said they were Frey men. It's funny though... Kings, Lions, and the Towers. What an odd group to be dealing with one another..." You said slowly, looking back down at your phone.

[You: hey mom. Just wanted to let you know, you will be having a grandson come end of June.]

"I've only ever heard of the Frey's in passing. I don't know much about them?" Tyene said, sitting at the table as you set your phone on the counter and pulled the freezer open.

"The Boys talk shit about them. Apparently bottom of the barrel kind of folks. Inbred idiots who are only in the game because they come from old money." You glanced over at Tyene, "wanna stay for dinner?"

"Sure. If you don't mind. I'm stuck here until Matt gets back anyways." She shrugged.

You saw your phone screen light up. You picked it up:

[Mom: oh my goodness! Your father and I are both excited! I can't even begin to tell you how excited I am! We love you baby! Come see us soon.]

[You: alright momma. I'll see what I can do. I love you guys too!]

×××

"Hey good looking, whatcha got cookin'?" Ramsay purred, grabbing your hips and pulling you back into him.

You melted into him with a grin.

"Thought I'd finally make that rack of ribs." You replied, motioning at the salad you had been cutting up, "and salad. And baked potatoes."

"Right on, little momma. Everything good here?" He said, releasing you and reaching for a glass tumbler.

"Far as I know." You shrugged, gasping as something pushed you into the counter slightly.

You looked down quickly to a pair a deep brown eyes, a wet black nose, and lolling pink tongue.

You shot Ramsay a dirty, disbelieving look.

"Rams. I told you, I'm too tired to keep up with a puppy." You said, kneeling down to love all over the puppy regardless.

"You keep bitching about how boring it is here. So I solved your problem." Ramsay shrugged, pouring his whiskey into the ice filled tumbler.

You rolled your eyes, but grinned anyways, "name?"

"Don't know. Fuck Head if he pukes in the floorboard again."

"Puppy!" Tyene said excitedly, walking in the kitchen. "Look at these ears!"

"See. Someone likes puppies at least." Ramsay sneered, leaving the kitchen.

"I'm naming him!" You called after your husband.

"Then I get to name our son. Choose wisely." Ramsay called back.

You pursed your lips, turning to the sink to wash your hands.

"Think if I choose a stupid enough name for the dog Ramsay will choose a decent name for our child?"

Tyene snorted, "no. He would do anything to get under your skin."

You sighed, "you're right. But as long as my son isn't named Kylo or Anakin, or... Han Solo."

"Nah, it would be more like Bruce or Clark. Maybe Steve or... what's Iron Man's name?" Tyene laughed.

"Tony." you said, curling your lip in distaste .

"See, Anakin Bolton sounds better than Tony Bolton in my opinion."

"You are not helping." You laughed.

"I'm here to keep secrets and do dirty deeds. Not help defend you against your husband's terrible choices in names." Tyene giggled, scooping up the puppy and leaving you alone in the kitchen.

×××

Matt rested the side of his face on the table, "Can I just adopt you both so I can eat like this every day?"

"Sure. And you can move in and sleep in the spare bedroom right next to ours. You will love that. Right when you're little baby ass is so close to dreamland." Ramsay smirked.

Your cheeks warmed.

Matt snorted.

"Don't believe me, kid? I am a sex god."

Tyene caught your eye and you looked away quickly, embarrassment swallowing you as you stared at your hands in your lap.

"Boss, don't mean to interrupt your bragging, but we have a situation." Damon said, looking up from his phone. "Check your shit."

Ramsay pat himself down, casting around for his phone.

"Couch, dear." You said, frowning as the atmosphere in the room turned from cozy and happy to tense and on edge.

Ramsay left the kitchen in a hurry. You could hear him cursing in the other room.

He returned to the kitchen, lighting a cigarette and pulling his coat on.

"Let's go then, Boys. Looks like we're playing cop detail." Ramsay mumbled through his cigarette.

Matt, Damon, and Alyn rose from the table.

"Ben and Yellow Dick will meet us at the shop."

You frowned, watching the men scramble around to grab up coats and guns.

Ramsay placed a kiss to the top of your head, "I'll be back as quickly as I can. I love you."

"You boys be careful. I love you too." You said, watching them leave.

"Wonder what's going on?" Tyene asked.

"I'll ask Charlotte. Damon always had the scanner on." You said pulling your phone from your pocket.

[You: hey, what's going on? The Boys just left here in a hurry?]

"You go sit down and relax. I'll clean up the kitchen. You busted your ass to make dinner. Now it's my turn." Tyene said.

You simply nodded, realizing how tired you were. You walked into the living room, curling up under your blanket on the couch. A cold, wet nose nudging your hand tucked under the throw pillow.

You grinned, grabbing the remote and pulling the puppy up on the couch with you. He made himself as small as possible to lay with you. You dreaded how big he was going to be, judging by the size of his feet.

You flipped through TV channels. Your phone vibrated.

[Charlotte: no idea. I'm working tonight. I'll see what I can find out and let you know.]

[You: thank you! Oh, we are having a boy, btw.]

[Charlotte: awe! I'll be by tomorrow and you can tell me all about it. But give me about 20 to see if I can find out what's going on.]

You set your phone back down, scratching the puppy between the ears and closing your eyes.

After lying still for awhile you could feel the fluttering movements in your stomach.

My son. You thought with a small, sad smile, resting your hand on your belly.

"Uh... (y/n)?" Tyene's voice said from far away.

"Hm?" You hummed, opening your blearily eyes a bit

"TV."

You blinked a few times and glanced over at the TV. You must of fallen asleep as the ten o'clock news was on.

It took you a moment to realize what you were looking at. But when it hit you, you couldn't help but make a noise in your throat, sitting up straight, scaring the puppy who yelped loudly.

The police station. Burning to the ground.

"Hold on folks... we are getting reports that Robb Stark, Ned Stark's son, has just been shot... oh... And his... oh god. Excuse us while we cut to a quick break. Stay tuned for more breaking news..." The news reporter was saying, his face pale and upset, pushing the earphone further in his ear to listen better.

You glanced over at Tyene and frantically felt around for your phone.

"Take the pup out back please." You said, finally closing your fingers around your phone.

2 new texts.

[Charlotte: not 100 on what's going on, but the Boys are safe. They are there as a bumper for whatever is going on. Not directly involved.]

[Rams: do not worry.]

You frowned, looking back at the TV, wishing the stupid truck commercial would hurry up and be over so you could find out exactly what was going on.

You sat on the edge of the couch, eyes glued to the TV.

Robb Stark dead. His poor girlfriend, dead. Doctor Cat, also dead. All three murdered in cold blood. According to the sources, the poor older woman watched her son and his woman die before she was finally killed.

Would that happen to You? Would you watch your husband die before the cold metal was turned on you?

What about the other Starks? Did Sansa know? What about your little street racer? Then there were the two youngest. Both boys. You knew nothing about them.

Where the fuck was Ramsay? Did he set the blaze to the police station? Who killed the Starks?

What a very weird, unsettling day. Seemed to be setting the mood for what was to come.

#guns for hire #gfh #kee_writestrashh #AO3 fanfic #chapter 41 #41/90 #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton/reader #modern ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones au #modern au #modern game of thrones #got modern au #mafia au #organized crime au

[whorror-jpeg]

Rottweiler (pt.2)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: How much are you really willing to risk for him? Your art? Your grades? Your social status?

Prompts: noNE BENCH

Song: Rottweiler Playlist

Request: none

Requests Are: Open

Warning(s): cursing, angst, violence (it’s Billy), fluff

Word count: 1.4k

Author’s note: firstly, i’d like to thank everyone for the hype of this story, it means so much knowing that the content i put out is loved.every time I talk about the reader’s mom I imagine Mama from What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? lmfao. I hope you guys enjoy this part, I’m having too much fun writing this. Ps, Billy’s such an angsty teen. No one compares.

one// two// three// four// five// six// seven// eight// nine// ten.

“So, how’d you get that shiner, huh?” you asked. At this point, you didn’t even have to look to see it was him. It was, and it probably always would be.

“Oh,” he laughed a bit, “Tommy H. got a good swing in. You should see him, though.”

You turned to face him, the bruise now a greenish-yellow color.

“Mhm, I’m sure he looks bad.” you played, earning a glare. “Why are you following me around, huh?”

He crosses his arms and leans on the locker next to him, “Should I remind you what happened last time I wasn’t around?”

You gave a sardonic laugh, “Oh, so now you’re protecting me? While what you did was nice and all, I don’t need you hovering around me, okay?”

“Hey,” he gently grabbed your elbow as you were leaving, “Seriously. Be careful. Carol’s a bitch.”

You scoffed, giving him a disapproving shake of your head, and walking off.

He yelled at you, “I mean it, (Y/L/N)!”

“I can take care of myself, Hargrove!” you shouted over your shoulder, smiling.

In Physics, Jonathan Byers passed you a piece of folded up paper. You rolled your eyes when you read it.

“What are you drawing today?”

It was a thing he’d come up to unintentionally annoy you. He was a sweet boy, with very limited friends, as well as too curious for his own good.

You scribbled down a name next to the drawing and showed it to him, making him hold back a laugh. The drawing was different positions of the same, drooly, dumb Rottweiler, simply labeled as “Hargrove”. Proud of yourself, you made the mental note of showing the dog-boy himself later on in the day. The two of you had gym together, anyway, and it’d be fun to see his reaction, you concurred.

The bell rang, you changed into your gym clothes, and brought your sketchbook outside and setting it near a  tree for later.

“Hargrove, (Y/L/N), come up here.” Coach Mac called. You and Billy both gave each other a look, as if to ask “what the fuck did you do?”

“Let’s race the two fastest runners, shall we?” Mac announced, earning an excited majority. You looked at Steve, who shrugged his shoulders, then turned to Billy, who smirked. Neither one of them were very much help at all.

“Yeah. Let’s.” Billy starts, “I lose, you go on a date with me. You win, you get to do whatever.” he says quickly.

Without thinking, you nodded, going to the start of the track with Billy, waiting for the whistle.

It sounded, people cheered, and you ran. For a bit, Billy was even with you, even challenging you by going faster than him. And you beat him, by five seconds.

“I win, loser.” you panted, smiling. Billy walked coolly to you, smirking and sweating.

“You sure did.”

Your façade dropped, “What are you smiling for? You lost.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, remember the deal?” you nodded, “I lose, you gotta go on a date with me.”

You thought for a moment, then realized he was right. You groaned as he laughed at you.

“Eat shit, Hargrove. I won’t have fun. You can’t make me.” you yell, going to grab your journal and take a shower as everyone else went to do what they desired, be it homework or talking.

He laughed harder, “Sure, Princess.”

As the weekend approached closer, the knot in your stomach grew tighter, until Saturday came up. You dressed better than normal, making sure to grab a jacket, then ran down the stairs in a hurry, fearing your date would actually be a gentleman and knock on the door.

“Hey momma, got your meds taken care of for tonight?” you asked, tying your Chuck’s and tucking in the laces.

She hummed in approval, “Where you goin’ baby?”

You ran to the closet, grabbing an umbrella. The night decided to pour, leaving the roads dark and ominous.

“Out with a,” you hesitated, “A friend.”

Your mother waved you off, telling you to be safe, when you heard a honk.

You ran out, the rain starting to come back from its previous showers.

“Wow, I was worried you were gonna try to be a gentleman, Hargrove.” you joked when you got in, putting your seatbelt on. Billy was, for once, quiet, and smoking a cigarette. You couldn’t see him well in the lighting, the front porch light not providing much illumination.

You looked at him, “You okay?”

He blew out his smoke and started the car, muttering an ‘I’m fine’.

The ride to wherever you were going was too quiet. The boy, who preferred everything loud, especially his music, played no music at all, nor did he talk. And you were sick of it.

“Billy pull over.”

“Why?”

You rolled your eyes, “Just do it.”

He did as told, stopping at the side of an ongoing cow field and under a streetlight, parking.

You turned to him, “Look at me.”

He tilted his head back, sighing lightly, before turning to you.

“What’s wrong.”

He arrogantly scoffed and turned away, going to turn the car back on, being stopped by you grabbing his hand. It was shaking.

“You can’t be doing this hot-and-cold bullshit with me, Hargrove. I will get out of this car and walk home right now if you don’t start talking.”

He stared at you for a bit, swallowed, then looked away again. You mumbled an ‘okay’ as you took off your seatbelt and got out of the car, walking back in the direction of your house. This was quickly followed by the sound of the car door opening and slamming shut, then boots running in your direction.

“Listen,” he grabbed your arm lightly, “I just, I got into a fight with my dad, okay? I guess I’m still pissed about it.”

You looked at him carefully. Now that his face was more illuminated, you could make out a split lip and a welt forming on his cheek.

“Just a fight? Billy, this isn’t just a fight with your dad!” you presented quietly, lightly putting a hand over his newly injured cheek.

“Listen, it’s not a big deal, okay? I was asking for it.”

“Billy, do you hear yourself? Your dad is beating you and you’re coming up with excuses! You’re almost eighteen!” you lightly put your hand on his shoulder. The rain began to pick up pace, and apparently so did Billy’s emotions.

Billy let out a shaky sigh, coming closer to you and resting his forehead on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist, and frankly, you didn’t know what to do. The Billy Hargrove you knew wasn’t a crying, vulnerable teenage boy. The Billy you knew was nearly full grown, strong-willed, primal, and hard headed. He didn’t have emotion. Yet here he was, sobs racking his body as he hugged you closer to him. You lightly ran your fingernails up and down his back, another hand coming up to massage his head, equally as light.

“C’mon, Billy. I still owe you a date, yeah?”

You grabbed his face with both of your hands, tears streaming down his face and mucus lightly coming out of his nose. He nodded, opting to get out of the freezing rain and let you drive while he finished crying. The entire time, he never let up on holding your hand while you drove.

By the time you got to a small burger joint, Billy had stopped crying and rested his head on the window of the passenger door, slightly falling asleep, no doubt tired from his outburst.

You looked at him and rubbed his bicep after getting your hand free. He woke more and looked around, not knowing where he was.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m gonna get us food and we’ll drive to my house to eat, okay? We’re freezing.”

He nodded, laying his head back on the window and  falling back asleep. You quickly got out of the car, coming into the restaurant, and was mindlessly greeted by Tommy H. And god, did he look like shit. An eye swollen over, his nose and lip were split, bruises adorning them and virtually the rest of his face.

You took your order, waiting on a barstool for the food to be made, all the while Tommy H stared at you from his place at the cash register.

“Hey, (Y/LN).” you turned to him, “Keep your bitch of a boyfriend on a leash.”

You chuckled nervously, “I’m sorry?”

“Billy. Keep him on a fucking leash.” he aggressed as his co worker gave you your food.

You gave Tommy the due money, “He’s not my boyfriend.” you whispered.

“Yeah? Well he sure acts like it.” he yelled after you as you walked out to the car with your paper bag of food. You startled Billy when you got in, quickly cooing for him to fall back asleep until you got to your house.

------

TAGS:

@artisticlales

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #st #stranger things #steve harrington #jonathan byers

[sheepydraws]

I'll Kick Your Ass! I'll Kick My Fiancee's Ass! I'll Kick My Own Ass! (6/11)

Last Chapter

Next Chapter

Thanksgiving Break

FaceBook Messenger:

Shampoo: Ukyo!

Shampoo: Ukyo!!!!!!!

Shampoo: UKYO!!!!!!!

Ukyo: Hey. I just got home. What’s wrong?

Shampoo: EVERYTHING. Why didn’t you message me back?

Ukyo: I turned off my phone in the car. I wanted to talk to my dad. And I was reading him Good Omens.

Shampoo: Oh, isn’t that nice, you got to bond with your father and I gOT SEX TIPS FROM MY GRANDMA!

Ukyo: Explain.

Shampoo: You’re never gonna believe this shit.

Ukyo: Don’t have much of a choice.

Shampoo: Last month Mousse kept asking me when I was going to come home, and I said not till Thanksgiving break

Ukyo: You live like an hour away, tho

Shampoo: That is why I had to come up with a good excuse!!! I told him I had a boyfriend and I wanted to spend my weekends with him.

Shampoo: Mousse said, bullshit, so I told Ryoga to text him and tell him he couldn’t come over for Thanksgiving break so he would believe me.

Ukyo: Could you get to the point?

Shampoo: I am! So Mousse came to pick me up this afternoon, and we’re chit-chatting in the parking lot, and who should roll up?

Shampoo: RYOGA. WITH A PACKED BAG.

Shampoo: HE TOLD MOUSSE HE WAS GOING TO SPEND THE WEEK WITH US

Ukyo: That’s so nice of him!

Shampoo: HE’S SLEEPING IN MY ROOM, UKYO.

Ukyo: Uh…

Shampoo: We don’t have a guest room. I said he could sleep on the couch, but grandma was like, “What? He’s your friend and you’d have him sleep on the couch like a dog?” So I said, “Okay, I’ll sleep on the couch.” and grandma said, well, it sounds better in chinese, okay? Less blunt.

Shampoo: She said I’m in college now, so it’s cool, cause we must be…

Shampoo: AND MA JUST SAT THERE DRINKING COFFEE AND NOT MAKING EYE CONTACT.

Ukyo: What’s Ryoga doing?

Shampoo: He’s in the bathroom. He was really excited to take a shower without worrying someone is going to walk in on him. He mentioned it in the car.

Ukyo: I probably shouldn’t think that’s cute, but it is.

Shampoo: It is.

Shampoo: Not helping.

Ukyo: Shampoo. Hun. Honey.

Ukyo: Chill.

Ukyo: All I’m hearing is, ‘I get to hang out with my friend Ryoga over the break, and don’t have to worry about my ex hitting on me’.

Shampoo: But we’re going to share a bed. Have you ever shared a bed with a guy? Two words:

Shampoo: Morning. Wood.

Ukyo: He didn’t offer to sleep on the floor?

Shampoo: What floor? With my full size in here there is functional space only. It’s the bed or pressed up between the bookcase and the wall.

Ukyo: Just talk to him. Or sleep feet to head. Or with your heads in the middle. Or whatever. It’ll be fine. You are not going to slip, fall over, and accidentally have sex with Ryoga. I promise.

Ukyo: I have to go get dinner with my dad. You okay now?

Shampoo: I guess. We’ll talk soon?

Ukyo: Promise. <3

Last five posts from okinomiyakimeansiloveyou.tumblr.com

5. Dancing turkey gifset

4. Long post about native american culture, vis-a-vis Thanksgiving + charities to donate to.

3. A blurry photo of the tops of someone’s shoes, just under a shelf of canned cranberry sauce at what looks to be a grocery store

2. Shit, did that just post? Fuck. Why meeeeeeeeee

1. I don’t want to tell any of my friends about what happened because I told them to stop whining about Thanksgiving stuff, and I think I’m fine. He didn’t see me, and by the time my father found me he was gone.

Ranma’s Diary

I saw Ukyo yesterday. He looked pretty good for someone crouching behind a display of cranberry sauce.

I think he was hiding from me.

I thought that was kind of funny, because shouldn’t I be hiding from him? And his dad? Don’t they both want to kill me?

I haven’t thought about Ukyo in a while. I try not to. Well, I tried not to, and then I got really good at it, which I think they call forgetting.

I really liked Ukyo. They were cool. Really cool. Normal, too. Their house was always clean enough, and they had lots of different kinds of food all the time. Dad usually just eats whatever I’m supposed to be eating, so a lot of pork chops and hard boiled eggs and protein powder. Somedays I’d go over to Ukyo’s and there would be mexican leftovers, or tuna noodle casserole, or five different lunch meats, and I could eat anything I wanted.

Okay, the best thing about going out with Ukyo wasn’t the food, although the food was great. And it wasn’t the making out, or just lying on their bed and chilling, either.

And it wasn’t hanging out during lunch, or buying gifts for each other on christmas or

There were a lot of really great things about dating Ukyo.

I remember the first time I saw Akane, all I could think was: “He’s not Ukyo.” I was mad enough he was a guy (well, you know, I thought so at the time) but it just seemed so wrong that he wasn’t Ukyo. Like they should have found a male Ukyo or something and that’s who my dad should have been trying to marry me off to.

The Tendos have good food too. Lots and lots of rice. I think Kasumi likes rice cause it’s cheap, and it’s easy to make and she never seems to run out. I mean, she told me that, while she was cooking once. I was sitting on the floor while she wandered around the kitchen. She was making a big ole pot of curry, just a huge tureen of the stuff, and she was going back and forth from the stove to the counter checking the rice and the curry, and poking at something she made for dessert, cause I think she liked to make dessert when I came over. I mean, she told me that.

Kasumi reminds me of Ukyo a little. Not just because they’re both good cooks, but because they both make you feel really calm. Kasumi never seems to talk. You just sit next to her and you learn things. I’m sure she talks, she’s just so…soft. I don’t know. Like you know how when you know someone really well, and you hangout with them a lot, you stop noticing them? Like they’re a chair? I mean, in a good way. You don’t have that, ‘strange person’ alert going off in the back of your head all the time, you just feel totally relaxed like you would if you were alone.

That’s Kasumi.

Anyway, I was on the floor, watching her feet, and I think I had asked her what she thought about Akane and me, and she said,

“I think that mom and dad wanted to raise the perfect woman. Someone who has beautiful children and runs a successful business and marries into a good family that can help with the dojo. Between the three of us they’re going to get her.” that’s how I found out Akane was trans. I mean, I had this weird feeling, the way Nabiki joked about having two sisters, but they didn’t really sound like jokes? She would tease Akane about being feminine, but it seemed more like gushing. Like when one of your friends gets super obsessed with something and you call them a nerd because you’re crazy about that thing too. Like that.

Okay, so I’ve just written this long character study thing, but I don’t feel much better about seeing my old bae hiding from me in the supermarket with the ‘seasons greetings’ and ‘goodwill to all’ signs already up.

I think, the point I was trying to make, somewhere in here, was that I miss Ukyo, and I want to talk to them, but what am I going to say? I miss them because of what I did, and even if they feel the same, it’ll probably be just like finding out Akane is trans.

“Hey, we have this thing in common! Maybe we can use it to build a bridge over this huge chasm of anger and resentment between—nope, it all fell in.”

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Hey Akari, not sure if it’s been a long time since we’ve talked, or it feels that way because I’m on break. I’ll be home soon though! It’s going to be great. A proper slushy christmas. The weather over here is a little strange. It’s just cold and bright. Not warm, but everything seems to glitter, even though there’s no snow yet.

It is very strange sharing a bed wi[deleted]

Thanksgiving is very interesting this year. I’m used to the tradition since this is usually when I would go visit mom, but it’s very different to go for a week and to actually live here and see how desperately everyone is using Thanksgiving to stave off christmas.

It’s also very interesting sharing a bed with a girl. I mean it’s not bad it’s just really really intimate and I never even did this with you and I’m waking up wrapped up in the way she smells and the warmth of her and [delete]

So far things have been pretty relaxing, here’s hoping that continues so I’m all rested up for finals. I’ve been studying very hard for my calc final because it’s my last one, and the sooner I finish it the sooner I’m on my way home,

Can’t wait to see you.

Ryoga.

The Tendo House

Kasumi’s recipes: Moussaka!

The video opens on the familiar view of Kasumi’s kitchen and an unfamiliar guest.

Kasumi: So, I don’t actually have the money, or the fridge space or literally anything that would make making an extra Thanksgiving dinner worth it.

Akane: I mean, you could have done it in August and—

Kasumi: (Throwing her arms around her sister in an effort to startle her. It works) So I’m here with my sister, Akane, and we’re going to make something that, while not a traditional Thanksgiving dish, is delicious, warm, and perfect for sharing.

Akane: And then Kasumi is going to start on the actual Thanksgiving stuff, and she’s going to post videos of her two best dishes so you have them for next year, or whenever.

Kasumi: (Releasing her sister) It’s going to be brisket, and a cranberry sauce recipe that you will actually want to eat. But for now (she claps her hands together) Moussaka!

Wide shots of fresh produce occur, as well as plenty of slicing and drizzling with oil. The moussaka comes together, layer by layer.

Abruptly Kasumi’s voice over and impersonal shots of her and Akane’s hands are replaced by another wide shot of the kitchen.

“Kasumi, I’m going to the store, do you—“ A boy appears on screen, roughly Akane’s age. There is a rather criminal amount of swagger in his walk for someone whose white gi pants are sticking out under a puffy, flourescent orange winter coat. He stops abruptly when he notices Akane.

Kasumi: (finishes layering zucchini in the huge black pot the moussaka is going into and walks past Akane to rinse her hands in the sink). I think I’ve got everything I need. Wait—Do we have pickles?

Akane: No, I finished them last night.

Kasumi: Pickles then. The sour, garlicky kind. Strips, not chips or squewers or whatever else they have. Strips. Here, I think I have a few dollars in my purse.

Boy: Oh, no, I’ll pay for it. What’s a couple of bucks between-(he fumbles and takes a different track) I mean, you’re doing thanksgiving for us. It’s the least I could do.

Kasumi: Speaking of feeding you, what kind of food do you like? I’ve got a good sewing video, and one about fixing pipes in the making, but after thanksgiving I’m going to be clean out of food video ideas.

Boy: (Clearly just wanting to get out of the kitchen) Christmas is coming up, right? What about cookies. A bunch a different cookies, in, like, gift baskets. That seems like your sort of thing.

Kasumi considers this for a minute, hands on her hips. She seems to evoke a certain gravity on this boy. He looks like he wants to leave, but a certain force is keeping him rooted to the spot.

Kasumi: (With a decisive nod) Then I’ll need more flour, sugar, butter…You know what, I’ll write up a list. Akane, are you okay going with him? He might need a little help with all that stuff.

Akane: (Looking very similar to the boy, in that she would love to say no, but finds it impossible in front of Kasumi). Okay. I’ll help.

And, in a voice over that follows a seamless transition back to Moussaka layering, Kasumi explains: And that is why Akane is not in the rest of this video, as well as a sneak peak at what I’ll be doing soon!

The three most important posts from timetoddddie.tumblr.com:

3. A post reblogged from fuckboisgetmoney: Ryoga’s battered face and the caption about possibly starting a guro blog. #not a guro blog exactly #documenting the strange goings on at a small college out in the sticks of the east coast #jk #it’s people dueling over a girl #what is my life

2. A photo of the top of Kuno’s head, from the time Nabiki stayed with him at health services for a minute. It’s the crown of his head, a splotchy bruise extending from the top of his forehead to his perfectly tousled side part, looking almost like a miscolored extension of the latter. #can you believe he’s our kendo team’s star player? #school spirit #fuck you nsj

1. A picture of the head of the girl’s gymnastic’s team with a spread of bruises over her torso, the vibrant colors broken up by a grey sports bra for modesty’s sake. Nabiki payed for this photo with a bag of jelly beans and five RedBull. She wanted to see how the purple and green flesh played with the rock hard muscles of the girl’s core, and she wasn’t disappointed. #my sister totally isn’t worth this #i love the girl #but doesn’t this look painful? #glad all I gotta do to get a guy is put on some sheer tights

Not Anal

At least he waited till black Friday. At least he had the decency.

Look, sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and you realize you left your bra on because you fell asleep while watching movies with your friend in a post feast stupor. (We always eat late cause the restaurant is usually open. Thanksgiving has never been a big deal at our house because Grandma is in charge around here and she never cared, so she doesn’t really expect us to, but ever since I was about nine and could ask for it we would eat a nice meal on Thanksgiving. Grandma kind of likes an excuse for a big meal, so she lets it happen).

So, anyway, like I was saying, I woke up in the middle of the night and I was half asleep and too clumsy to get at my bra without taking my shirt off. Once underwire was no longer digging into my ribs I rolled over and fell back asleep.

Which, and I swear on my grandmother’s soon to be dug grave, is why I was topless when Mousse decided to come barging into my room and announce that he was going to fight Ryoga for me.

So I’m sitting there trying to cover my chest and screaming at him to get out, and he’s screaming right back that this has nothing to do with me and that he just wants Ryoga, which of course sends mom and Grandma running, because now he’s woken them up, and then I really started howling at everyone to GET OUT and I think grandma implied that it looked like Ryoga and I had been having sex in my room, which is such bullshit, because she never said anything when Mousse and I had been fucking in there, but once Ryoga and I are being total slobs and leaving our clothes and junk food everywhere, then we MUST be having sex, so then I was screaming at her about that—

That is when Ryoga decided to slowly, slowly, sllooooowwlly wake up. I’m serious, his eyelids fluttered, and he stretched his arms over his head, and he propped himself up on an elbow and cracked his jaw, and then, and only then, did he say,

“What the fuck is going on?”

At which point I wacked him with a pillow because everyone else in the room had already seen my breasts and I was more pissed than modest.

“You’re fighting Mousse in the alley behind the restaurant in ten minutes.” I told him, and that seemed to satisfy Mousse, because he nodded and left. Mom and grandma went with him, chatting about who should referee. They seemed to think this was going to be like the little sparring matches Mousse and I used to have when we were still doing martial arts, and not a knock-down, drag-out kind of fight.

“Why am I going to fight Mousse?” Ryoga asked once they were gone.

“For the grand privilege of fucking me, of course.” I said, getting out of bed to figure out where I had thrown my bra.

“But, uh, we…”

“Yeah, I know.”

That is when I got this really awful idea. I swear, my face should have done that grinch thing where his whole face curls in on itself.

I turned around, kicked off my sweatpants-said a little prayer of thanks that I had run out of comfortable undies and was wearing a pink thong- and got back on to the bed so I could start crawling toward Ryoga, basically everything I have on display.

“Maybe I’ll do it, too, if you beat the shit out of Mousse.”

Ryoga’s eyes were enormous. Almost bigger than his head.

“I-I have—you know that I—“

Have you ever tried to crawl sexily? Not easy, but by the time I was close enough to Ryoga to put my hand on his thigh it didn’t matter.

“I know you have a girlfriend, and you’re trying to reel in, like, five more,”

“Just Akane. I mean, Akari. I mean, I’m going to tell Akari to her face.”

By then we were face to face, maybe an inch apart, my breasts just brushing his t-shirt, and I said, “That’s the best part. I already know all that, so I’m not going to get sloppy and tell them, and you aren’t going to have to worry about me expecting you to marry me like my grandmother might.”

There wasn’t an inch between us. I couldn’t even look in his eyes anymore, that’s how close we were. I could feel his breath on my lips, and I could feel that he was hesitating, but I didn’t know if that meant he was holding himself back or if he was trying to force himself to do something.

That was when he threw his arms around me and crushed me against him. Ryoga Hibiki kisses like he’s never going to get the chance again. Like he’s been out in the woods for weeks on end and he’s so desperate for human contact that he’ll wring it out of you.

And this after sharing a bed with me for almost a week. I wonder what his girlfriend is going to get at the airport.

I’m pretty sure that’s the thought that woke me up enough to punch him in the chest(there just wasn’t space for me to do anything else. I couldn’t get his lips off mine to say something) knocking him back enough that I could say, “You should put some shoes on. That alley is all gravel.”

That killed the mood.

So I’m standing out in the back alley, my mother doing a little count down, my lips still tingling—I mean, jesus. No wonder this girl was willing to do long distance. Jesus.— and I know that there is no way Ryoga can take Mousse. Maybe in a kissing contest, but Mousse has years of martial arts training. Ryoga has mass. You can do that math.

Except Ryoga, while he might be big and muscley, has that charming british accent so you know he’s not an idiot. He stayed defensive, which was good. I probably should have told him that Mousse is a cheat, rather than that thing about the gravel.

Okay, Mousse doesn’t exactly cheat, but he’s underhanded. He likes to strike lots of little blows and wear you down, rather than straight up beating the shit out of you.

He does that after you’re worn down.

So Ryoga is staying defensive, feinting here and there, but he’s not giving Mousse enough room to make the little blows he likes. So Mousse starts hitting Ryoga when his guard is up. Hits that glance off his forearms, but hits all the same. Trying to rile Ryoga up, I don’t know.

Mousse went in for another quick punch, and Ryoga rammed him. Arms up, he absorbed Mousse’s blow and ran forward, sending Mousse skidding on the gravel, and slammed him into the back wall of the restaurant.

You know, I didn’t actually see the knife. Just the movement of Mousse’s hands. I didn’t need to see the knife. I knew it was the nice one with the pearl handle. Christ, I saw it when mum was doing the count down, but I didn’t think for a second he would take it out.

But there it was. I knew that movement. I had watched Mousse practice it over and over with his first switch blade, a small black one he found in the tool box under the kitchen sink, until her could whip it out in a second, with a motion like flicking dust away.

But I didn’t actually see the blade flash. I didn’t feel Ryoga’s collar in my hand, but that’s the only thing I could have grabbed to send him flying backwards.

All I felt was the impact of the punch I landed on Mousse’s nose. The crunch of cartilage. His glasses broke, cutting both of us.

I don’t want to talk about this anymore.

Akane’s Diary

I didn’t realize Ranma used to date. I mean, like he actually had a significant other, not just messing around at parties like me.

I was sort of waiting for something to happen that I would want to write about more than this, but so far things have been pretty calm and it’s between writing about this and considering a personal ad in the school newsletter asking for a dude who dressed up as batman for halloween and met a girl dressed as Zelda. This is the healthier option. I’ve got to forget about that stuff.

Okay, so, two days before thanksgivng Kasumi has me doing a video with her. Actually, I asked if I could be in one. Never mind. We’re making moussaka.

Suddenly Ranma shows up wanting to know if Kasumi wants anything from the store. Long story short, I wind up in the car with him. It was a nice car. Not the luxury kind people who actually know things about cars whistle over, but the seats were comfy and the heater was good.

I said that to him. Since the silence was kind of awkward. Which maybe made him think I wanted to have a conversation, even though all I wanted was to stop feeling like we really should be trying to have a conversation.

“Was that apron your mother’s?” He asked, “The one Kasumi was wearing.”

It took me a minute to remember that the apron Kasumi was wearing had ‘Tomoko’ embroidered over the heart.

“Yes. Kasumi made it as a gift.”

“I see.”

The silence resumed, and felt even worse because I could feel the topic of mom looming before us.

Have you ever been in a situation so awkward you said something that would normally plunge you into an awkward situation, but you’re so strung out on having absolutely nothing to say that you sort of hope this will circle things back to a normal conversation? Of course not. Because you’re normal.

But me, I say to him, “So where is your mom, anyway? Your parents divorced?”

He doesn’t answer, and I think it’s too personal a question until he finally says, “Huh. I guess I have a mom…”

I burst out laughing. “What kind of answer is that?”

He shrugged, but he was smiling a little. “I don’t know. I’d believe dad had me himself if he could. I never had a mom, and he never talked about her.”

“Why?”

“What did I just say?” Ranma said, but he said it in a nice way, like we were sharing a joke.

And thus, thanks to Ranma’s non-existent, though theoretically probable mother, the awkwardness lifted for a minute, and we managed to talk about school, and food we like, and other normal things, until we were walking through the pickle aisle, and he suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me in another direction.

“Don’t look,” He whispered, “My ex is behind the cranberry sauce.”

What else was I going to do? I looked. Ranma Saotome isn’t the boss of me. And I really wanted to know what a person who not only put up with him but made out with him looked like.

Their gender was kind of indeterminate, and I couldn’t get a great look at them except to say that they had long hair and were wearing a really cute sweater.

“I told you not to look!” Ranma dragged me clear over to the milk, this weird back corner where it’s a little quieter than the rest of the store.

“Let’s just stay here.” He said, like that was a great plan.

“Ranma, we came here for groceries, not to play chicken with someone you used to date.”

“You don’t understand. Ukyo hates me.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, then did it anyway. “Gee, what a surprise. Another person who hates you.”

“Hey, Ukyo used to like me.” For a split second I thought Ranma was going to show a serious emotion, forlorn, maybe, or longing, but instead he got angry, “And they still would if it wasn’t for you. I don’t want them seeing you.”

“Don’t you dare make this my fault.” I hissed at him.

Wait, I think he did manage a serious emotion: panic.“I didn’t mean it like that, I mean they might blame you, and—”

“Sure. I’ll be by the register whenever you think it’s safe to come out.” I marched off with my little basket swinging, thinking that I wouldn’t mind never seeing Ranma again.

But, since I knew that wasn’t going to happen, I wonder if I should have found Ukyo and asked them what they saw in Ranma. They dated for a long time, I think, so there must have been something they liked about him. Maybe I should have asked them what it was, instead of standing there in front of the checkout aisle, getting madder and madder until Ranma finally showed up with the car keys, outstretched a little sheepishly, like he knew he was being an idiot, but was really hoping i wasn’t going to say anything about it.

I didn’t say anything at all.

#Ranma 1/2 #rankane #fanfiction #ranma saotome #akane tendo #personal #shampoo #ryoga hibiki #ukyo kuonji #kasumi tendo #sex ment #kissing

[a-polite-melody]

Yeah, okay, I’m ranting. My mom just sent me another goddamn text about Spud the cat, and while it was cute at first, it really was one of the cruxes of why my week at home was so shitty, and I need to do what I do best when I feel bad about something and just... throw it all out there. Warning, this is loooong. There’s a reason I put in a cut, and I don’t expect anyone to read this. I’m just venting.

If you’re curious: in short, over the past week I was made feel worthless by most of my family, and on top of that lovely stuff, I found out my dad outed me to my grandparents.

I was home last week because of my university’s reading week. It also happened to be over my birthday.

So, before reading week even begins, I’m making plans about how I’m getting home, and it starts. I’m talking to my mom, and I tell her reading week starts on the 20th, and since I don’t have classes on Fridays, and all of my classes were cancelled for one reason or another on Thursday I could come home as early as the 16th. She tells me that my uncle and my grandma are going away to Cuba on vacation on the 15th and they aren’t getting back until the 23rd, and she’s also house/dog sitting for my uncle. So she can’t come out to get me on Thursday, or any day, and because my dad works, he won’t be able to come get me until Saturday. I’d have taken the train, but because I had lots of stuff to bring with me (read: laundry I didn’t want to have to pay to do) I could do that because there’s a baggage limit I’d have been over.

Okay, not only am I waiting a couple extra days in residence with nothing to do, but my grandma and my uncle are both going to be away for most of the time I’m going to be home, including my birthday. It’s not the end of the world, and they were going to be back before I have to go back to school, so I didn’t really care all that much.

Friday night I sort of lose track of time and forget that dinner’s a thing until around 8:00. I think I already made a post about this, but usually the dining hall closes at 11:00, so I think all’s well. But of course not. The dining hall closed at 7:00 because they’re already on holiday hours, and they didn’t make this well known in advance. So I order pizza. It’s fine.

Saturday morning, I get a text from my dad right around 8:00 - I should mention I’m not even awake at this point - saying he’s leaving and will be here to pick me up at about 9:30. Great. So I have to shower, pack, and eat breakfast in an hour and a half. Again, not too big a deal, but inconvenient anyway. So I shower, I pack, then I go down to the dining hall at what was around 9:00. Turns out the holiday hours also means the dining hall doesn’t open for breakfast. They open at 11:00. So I just don’t eat breakfast that day. It’s fine. Whatever. I’ve missed breakfast before. Usually because I woke up late and needed to rush off to class, but hey, what’s the difference?

My dad and I take the scenic route back, and end up grabbing lunch because we were on the road that long, so I did eat eventually. Got home, dog was happy to see me, but old and arthritic so it was kind of sad because she was following me around everywhere and obviously in pain from moving around more than she’s used to. But hey, I’m home and get to love my dog for a few days!

...Oh yeah, that means I have to live at my dad’s place until my mom gets back from being at my uncle’s. I mean, I guess I could’ve gone over to my mom’s, but it’d have been a little awkward just living with my mom’s boyfriend without my mom around. Again, nothing bad, just inconvenient - the bed’s super uncomfortable; I live in the basement, which is cold as balls; my dad never put in a bathroom down there like he was going to, so I have to go up to the bathroom on the main floor (which doesn’t have a shower, I have to use the shower on the second floor); my dog won’t go into the basement and never has, so I have to hang out upstairs if I want to see her, which isn’t great because I like to hide away in my room most of the time; my dad rather than waiting for me to say “come in” after he knocks will just open the door immediately after he knocks, and I mean, the knock ends and not even a second later the door opens, so if I’m changing, or doing something I don’t want my dad to walk in on, there’s nothing I can do...

At this point it’s all just minor things, but still, I’ve got this feeling of, “oh, if this start is any indication, this week is not going to go well.”

First conversation I have with my dad after I get home and unpacked:

(Background: A couple months ago my dad texted me saying my grandma had wanted to send me clips of someone who came and spoke at her church and that my dad didn’t think I’d be interested. Also note that my grandma’s church is one of these churches that tries to be “progressive”. I don’t know very much about religion, but what I can piece together from what my grandma’s told me, because they’re a Unitarian church they don’t talk directly about god but rather the values out of the bible (again, I don’t really know what I’m taking about, just stuff I got from my grandma), they accept people of all religions coming to their church (which is how my grandma keeps trying to get me to come to church with her even though I’m atheist/agnostic), and they have a bunch of LGBT+ members of their church.)

I don’t remember how exactly we got around to this conversation, but somehow we got onto what I just gave a background about. Turns out the person who came to speak at the church was a trans person(my dad is still really bad with this stuff, so he said a “transgender” but by context cues I think the person who was talking was a trans man, but I don’t know). After that... church meeting, I don’t know... my grandma called my dad and said something along the lines of, “Now I understand Jenn so much better!”

And, uh, I’m not trans. I’m cis. Not only that, but in terms of my family I only came out to my parents. That’s it, mostly because I don’t know how safe it’d be to come out to my grandparents. Sure, that grandma (as well as my dad’s step-father) try to be “progressive”, but end up saying things that are really bigoted, and I just want to stay clear of that.

So I ask my dad why she’d say that. My dad asked her the same question, and she pulls up something that apparently happened when I was seven, which I have no memory of:

We, as a family, went out to a restaurant for dinner. It was a really windy day. As soon as we got into the restaurant my grandma drags me to the bathroom. After I’m done in the bathroom, and once we’ve both washed our hands my grandma pulls out a comb, combs her hair, then hands the comb to me and says, “You’re going to want to comb your hair.”

To which, I apparently said, “Why do you judge people on their appearance so much?”

Go seven-year-old me! I wish I still had that confidence!

I guess this stuck with her enough that she remembers it. And on top of that, she said stuff about how I don’t wear makeup, and don’t wear super nice clothes that compliment my body, and that I’ve never really taken time on my appearance.

Basically, my grandma is upset that I don’t perform femininity to her standards. And when a trans person came and talked about trans issues to my grandma’s church, instead of learning about how things can affect trans people, and how she can be better toward the trans community, she completely misses the point and invalidates what this person is telling her by trying to use it to understand her cisgender, and for all she knows straight, granddaughter.

I say something along those lines to my dad, and he tells me that he’s actually outed me to my grandparents... Years ago actually.

I, ask why, calmly, even though I’m seething inside. My dad says because my grandma asked if I was gay. THAT’S NOT A GOOD REASON TO HAVE OUTED ME. YOU COULD HAVE SAID NO, THAT WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN A LIE. YOU COULD HAVE SAID YOU DIDN’T KNOW. YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO FUCKING OUT ME.

So now I’m mad. I’m mad at my dad for outing me. I’m mad at my grandma for using me as an excuse to ignore trans issues. I’m just mad. I stay as far away from my dad as I can, which really is not very far considering there was so much in the way of birthday plans.

Birthday stuff.. Oh boy birthday stuff...

So, first birthday thing was going to see my dad’s step-mother. Ever since my grandpa passed away it’s been more and more obvious that her cognitive abilities are quickly dwindling. She’s had memory tests done, and the doctors after reviewing results have told my dad and uncle (who are pretty much the only people who look after her) that she should either have a full time PSW living with her or she should be moved into an assisted living facility. We want to do that, because we do worry about her being on her own, but at this point my grandma can’t legally consent to stuff like that, and the power of medical attorney isn’t my dad or my uncle, it’s her sister who doesn’t give two shits about her, besides the large amount of money she became the sole owner of when my grandpa passed away. Anyway, we go visit her, and that’s always hard. I get a present of things that no one would ever think to give me because they are so far removed from my interests. I get three different birthday cards. Of course there’s sentiment there, but it shows just how bad her memory is getting.

Second birthday thing, a get-together at my dad’s place consisting of me, my dad, my grandma, my dad’s step-father, and my uncle. Everyone arrives, I open presents, there’s conversation I’m a part of about mostly just school for all of ten minutes. Then, apparently, I turn into a ghost. I no longer exist. Conversation is about stuff I don’t know about, stuff I’m too uncomfortable to join in on, dark and dreary stuff about the future that kind of makes me want to leave the room and kill myself right then and there because the message over and over again is that “the younger generation is utterly and totally fucked”. Finally, we get onto science stuff - mostly medical stuff that shows up in the news - but at least it’s something I can say something about. Except as soon as I open my mouth I’m talked over. Even if I keep trying to talk no one cares. This always happens when I’m around this particular set of family, but I always hope that on my birthday it won’t happen. I’m always disappointed.

Third thing, another dinner with my grandma and my dad’s step-father. Because apparently they haven’t tolerated my existence long enough that they feel like they’ve been good grandparents. It doesn’t go very much differently, I really think the only difference is that my uncle wasn’t there.

Fourth, I go over to my other uncle’s place because my mom is still over there dog/house sitting and I hadn’t seen her yet. I also didn’t get a call or anything from her on my birthday mind you. Just a post on facebook that was more self-serving than an actual birthday message. Now is when I meet Spud the cat. So my mom admits to me that she has to keep reminding herself that she’s there to take care of my uncle’s dog, not the cat. She’s forgotten the dog outside at least once, she’d left his bowl empty for a day (he picks at food so he always needs food in his bowl for when he gets hungry)... As soon as I walk in, my mom covers something up that’s on the table and says, “Sorry, that’s your birthday card. I haven’t signed it yet.” Anyway, I help her with the whole cat thing, get her moved in to her new forever home. Great.

Last (sort of), I go out to lunch with my grandma once she’s back, as well as my mom. That lunch was actually decent. Mostly because we went to a buffet, so there wasn’t a lot of conversation. Plus my mom’s mother is usually pretty benign compared to the rest of my family, so being around her isn’t quite so stressful on me.

Now stuff with my mom.

(Background: My mom’s been off work on medical leave for... 5? years... something like that because of severe depression, anxiety, bpd, and trying to find a mix of drugs to help with all of that that isn’t debilitating. In that time, my mom started drinking more heavily. I didn’t know how bad it had gotten (my mom likes to keep this stuff from me, which of course makes sense, and she’s good at it, considering I didn’t know about the bpd until this past August when she was diagnosed at the start of when she had to leave work) until her doctor recommended she go to a group on depression and alcoholism. She made some friends in the group, one of which was the person who took in Spud the cat.)

So after lunch I head over to my mom’s place. I finally get to stay at her place, which is much less inconvenient for the most part. I finally get my card from my mom. Actually, that was at lunch I believe, but regardless, it took until Friday when I saw her on Tuesday, and my birthday was Monday. Not the biggest deal in the world, but feels kind of bad that I took the back-seat in her mind to a cat.

My mom’s exhausted because of not sleeping well while she’s been at my uncle’s. I’m exhausted because I’ve been dealing with family all week. So we just do our own things. She does suggest we go see a movie because the gift I got from her that wasn’t an early present I got back in January was a 2 for 1 movie pass. I say yeah, totally, because I really do want to go see Lego Batman. So we pick a time for 6:45 on Saturday, which is the next day.

Next day rolls around. I head downstairs to make breakfast and notice the door to her and her boyfriend’s room is open. Makes sense, because her boyfriend would have already left for work, and because of how loud my mom snores, as well as the problems she has sleeping sometimes, she’ll sleep in the basement when her boyfriend has to get up really early for work. I make and eat breakfast, head back up to my room, fart around on my laptop until lunch time, make lunch, eat lunch, fart around some more... All this with no sign of my mother...

Except for a text from her at around noon asking if I was too tired to go to the movie. Now, at first I take this at face value and say that no, I’m good. But then it occurs to me that maybe this is her way of saying she’s too tired to go. So I say if she’s not feeling up to it that it’d be okay if we go some other time. She says no, she’s good to go and is looking forward to it.

At sometime around 3:00, my mom knocks on my door. I tell her to come in, and she brings in the old printer that was in my room at school that I brought home. I didn’t know where she wanted it, apparently in my room, so she brought it in. Fine. Then she asks if we can talk, and it’s obvious she’s drunk.

She tells me that she’d woken up that morning and immediately started drinking. She’d felt bad about it, so she tried calling her friends from the group she was in. None of them answered, so she felt worse, and drank more. At this point, she’s way too drunk to go out to a movie with me.

Now... I get that addiction is a difficult thing. But it’s so hard for me not to take offence to the fact that my mom has given more shits about a stray cat than a daughter who is at home for the week and had a birthday a few days ago so much so that she’d put off something as simple as signing a birthday card - and the time we plan to do something together just happens to be the one time she gets so drunk that she won’t leave the house.

Now, since I’ve been back at school, I just get text after text about Spud the cat. She went with her friend to bring the cat to the vet. She’s spent all day at her friend’s place with this cat. And yet, she couldn’t even spend a day with me.

I’m done. I really cannot take any more of my family right now. I’m so glad I’m back at school, and I don’t think I’ll voluntarily go back home until I’m kicked out of residence for the summer. And even then, I don’t want to live with either of my parents, but I don’t have enough money and can’t make enough money to swing getting my own place for the summer as well as pay for tuition and housing next year. So... fuck.

#about me #long post