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starpirateee · 2 months

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WAITWAITWAITWAIT YKNOW HOW SPANKOFFSKI IS A POLISH NAME

PETE OR TED OR MAYBE BOTH SPEAKING POLISH AND CONFUSING THE PEOPLE AROUND THEM

JUST LIKE, THEY HAVE A PRIVATE CONVERSATION OVER THE PHONE THEY DONT WANT OTHERS TO HEAR SO SPEAK IN POLISH TO EACH OTHER AND WHEN TEHY HANG UP EVERYONE AROUND THEM IS LIKE WHAT THE FUCK??????

god im insane about themmmmmm

Anon this is really funny in concept, the size of your mind is insane && I just hope I can do it vague justice

The major problem for Ted on most days was that his phone tended to ring in the most inconvenient of places, at the most inconvenient of times. another major problem was that he often got so engrossed in… Whatever he was doing in the office that he forgot that he and Pete ran on completely different schedules, because his brother was still three months from graduating high school.

He'd been bunking off for the past half hour, and had been talking to Charlotte in the break room, trying to work out when a good time to see her again would be. Everyone who knew them tended to avoid the fact that she was blatantly using him as a fallback option because her husband couldn't— or wouldn't— give her what she wanted. People like Paul and Bill tended to ignore it, only because Sam was doing the same thing across town, with one of the Beanies' baristas, and one of his coworkers… Never at the same time, mind, but Zoey Chambers seemed rather unapologetic about it, so Paul and Bill had managed to work it out as fact.

Still, it was weird to see Charlotte with Ted. Because, at the right angle, it almost looked like Ted genuinely cared about her, and wanted to keep doing what they did to get her away from the thought of her husband for a while. That, of course, had seemed like enough total bullshit that nobody bought it, but they left the two of them to their well needed privacy when it came down to it. Only two people knew they were spot on with near enough everything they speculated about.

Ted leaned against the water cooler, sporting a little more confidence than would surely be allowed in a situation like this. Charlotte wasn't having a terrible day, and that meant it was that little bit easier to talk to her. Less Sam to think about… How did that bastard end up with a woman like her? And why was it that her situation was that bad that he was an upgrade for her?

He was going to think about an answer to that question, but his phone started ringing in his back pocket, vibrating way too dramatically against the cooler.

"Jesus christ-" He stood up a little straighter, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Sorry, Charlotte. One sec, I swear- hello?"

"Hey, Ted."

That was a voice he'd recognise from anywhere. Pete, once again working off his own time and perhaps completely overlooking the fact that Ted still had an hour at work.

For the sake of clarity, Pete checked his watch and drew the realisation that the holidays were over last week, and Ted was back on office hours. His brow creased, hoping he wasn't interrupting anything then realising there wasn't really anything to interrupt in his brother's work life. "This a bad time?"

"Oh, hey, Pete. No, you're good, I wasn't doing anything anyway…" Ted went straight back to lounging, aware that Charlotte was now trying not to eavesdrop but didn't really have anything better to do. "What's up?"

Pete chuckled. "C'mon, when are you ever doing anything? You don't do shit! Especially not at work!"

"Hey! I do shit! I get paid to do shit, don't I?"

"… Do you even know what department you work in?"

It was a genuine question, and would've accounted for Ted's genuine laziness and reluctance to do any of the actual work he was sent… If Ted hadn't prepared for this exact eventuality several months ago. He'd made sure to pay enough attention in a Monday meeting to at least account for what depeatment he worked in, and what that department pretty much required him to do. He didn't have to work constantly anyway, and that was the best part. His main job was just… fixing the problems everyone else had, when they had them.

"Sure I do. Tech support!" He imagined the defeated expression that flashed across his brother's face, and laughed to himself. There were too many people around him to make the point he was going to make next without getting mobbed, so he leaned in a little closer to the phone, a smirk playing on his lips, and muttered, "Czuję się, jakbym był jedynym idiotą, który faktycznie się zakwalifikował… (I feel like I'm the only idiot who's actually qualified…)"

That prompted an unexpected laugh out of Pete, who was clearly around other people too, because he tried to cover it up. "To wiele mówi (that says a lot.)" He returned once he'd stopped laughing. The two of them had stopped questioning the other's occasional slip into their own version of mostly fluent Polish. They used it to their advantage, to have private conversations in public, or sometimes in reverse when they were around the Polish side of their family. More things could be said if there was the added bonus of nobody overhearing, and that way of thinking had helped Pete out on a few occasions.

Ted cracked a smile. "Ty jesteś gówniarz- (you're a little shit)" He managed to bring himself back into the conversation they were supposed to be having, before he and Pete managed to lose it like they always did, lost in the jesting and the back and forth that just seemed to get better with every phonecall they had. "You didn't call to insult my supposed lack of work, did you? What's up?"

"Can I drop by the office and pick up your keys? I must've left mine on my desk this morning… Took me till third period to realise they weren't in my pocket…" Pete turned from the phone to mutter something- a goodbye, perhaps- towards someone else, and Ted found it vaguely amusing that Pete had retaliated to his complaint when he was with friends.

"You left after me this morning…"

"The front door locks itself, don't worry about it."

Ted faltered, and then nodded. He'd figured that by accident once when he accidentally locked himself out after forgetting his own keys, and he had to wait in the foyer for half an hour like an absolute fool for Pete to show up after his study session. "Fine. You know where the back entrance is, don't you? My car's parked out there, you should recognise it."

"That hunk of shit? I'd recognise it anywhere,"

"Do not slander my car!"

"C'mon, Ted, you've had it like, twenty years! And it hasn't gotten any better in all that time…"

He was going to ignore for now the seemingly increasing pile of problems that it seemed to have every year. Wings that needed replacing because they'd rusted so hard last year, numerous little engine faults… And the suspension was probably shot after all these years… It was a hunk of shit, sure, but it was _his_hunk of shit. "You just wait till you get your own hunk of shit, we'll see who's laughing then!"

"I'm- I'm getting close, I can see your car. Thanks for this, by the way…"

"Yeah yeah, don't mention it, Pete. You better not lose 'em on your way home, I know what you're like…"

"Dupek. (Asshole)"

"Tak, też Cię kocham… (Yeah, I love you too)" Ted chuckled before Pete hung up on him with a scoff. He rolled back his shoulders and stood up from the water cooler. Charlotte tilted her head, and it dawned on him that she'd probably heard all of that. He shrugged. "My brother. Useless bastard left his keys in the apartment… Hold on just a moment." He flashed her a quick smile and sauntered out of the break room towards the lift at the back of the office. Charlotte didn't have the time nor the space to question the constant little jumps in language that may well have happened on both ends, because Ted was gone before she had the chance to think about it at all.

#starkid #ted spankoffski #peter spankoffski #void offering #star mail #nova's tags →#i love the idea of ted hiding the fact hes a massive sap by only being a massive sap in polish #like damn that man really will never tell anyone he loves his brother but his brother huh #king of showing affection tbh #btw feel free to correct me on the language if i got anything wrong #i'll be happy to change anything #i'm not a polish speaker and i did use google translate #you know how it is

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pherelesytsia · 2 years

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Will you come home…? 2

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/sister/Reader

Summary: A rumour turned into truth, and the brothers are incapable of forgiving the youngest among them.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing

Word Count: 1.8k

Part 1 Part 3

Autumn was lingering in the air, fresh and loving, gentle as a lover's touch, but no hand clasped hers as she strolled through the rows of laughing and chatting people. Vendors at the booths were shouting, urging the people to draw closer, to taste the dried fruit and the popped corn.

Fallen leaves, yellow as molten gold and red as crimson escaping a deep wound coloured the wind. The hem of the dress slightly longer than the brownish coat, danced, swayed back and forth in the gentle breeze. The hair did not stick to the lips, which could only speak fondly and tenderly. Startled, her eyes widened. No gunshot echoed. Agony expanded in her heart. Desperately, Y/N searched for an injury, but crimson did not seep through the white button-down adorned with a large ribbon. Y/N rooted into the ground, turned into a tree of hundreds of years, millennia and decades. The faces were familiar, summoned tears and banned memories. Fear feasted on her heart, swallowed her body and mind. For a moment, Y/N thought she could not breathe, yet her chest rose and fell rapidly. A low prayer escaped her lips. What was I thinking, Y/N thought to herself, felt like a fool for genuinely believing she could avoid her family. She hoped it was a terrible dream, wished to wake up, but the pain in her chest deepened and Y/N realised she was not asleep, caught in the webs of a spider.

Gazes met and voices called out, called her by her name, told her to come closer, to stay and not escape. She heard despair in the breaking voice and the need to help sprouted in her soul, remembering the children were not responsible for anything the parents had done, what the fathers had said in seething anger. Inhaling the fresh evening air, Y/N adjusted the belt, hugging her body, and repressed the desire to slide her hand over the barely noticeable bulge in a soothing gesture to calm her mind.

"Aunt Y/N." Karl sang joyfully.

Swiftly he ran, beamed and laughed, missed his aunt dearly after the countless moon of departure, and pulled her into a hug. The fear faded away and slowly she knelt in front of Karl. He clasped her trembling hands, and it soothed the pain and healed the unhealed. His eyes inspected the woman with kindness, and Karl talked, spoke like a roaring waterfall, needed to tell Y/N everything that had happened in the last months and it made her smile.

Charlie did not make a move, stood tall and firm, had heard too much about his aunt and stared in distaste at Karl, talking to Y/N as if nothing had happened. Disgust flared in his eyes, ragged like fire, screamed like wood swallowed by flames fed by air and folded his arms in front of his chest.

The smile was gone with the wind. Her heart cracked and the loathing within his eyes shattered what Karl had cured. She swallowed, glad Charlie had no weapon in his possession, saw it in his gaze, cold, murderous, ruthless, something Y/N was convinced children's eyes could not bear, but she was wrong.

"We're lost. We were walking to the swings." continued the boy, babbled.

Y/N nodded.

"Where are your parents? Shouldn't you be home? It's getting late." Y/N interjected in a motherly tone, stern yet lovely with a hint of fear

Shaking her head, she tried to find her brothers, unable to comprehend how the fathers could leave the children alone, but the men were nowhere to be found.

Ashamed, Karl looked into the distance, did not want to answer the question, searched for the right words, but he realised it would be better to speak the truth, couldn't find a plausible explanation. Mischief mingled with remorse. Y/N had seen this expression hundreds of times and a strange warm sensation causing her heart to beat quicker brought a smile to her lips, recalling her childhood in the almost all-boys household of pranks and shenanigans.

"Karl? Don’t lie to me. I will not punish you; I understand, I was once your age and believe me you cannot imagen how often I snuck out with your dad and uncles.” Y/N spoke.

His eyes sparkled.

"But sneaking out is bad and I hope you know it, young boy, and you are lucky that nothing happened to you." Y/N swiftly added.

Memories returned, and Y/N dared to close her eyes, remembered the forgotten, the evenings she secretly disappeared from the house with her brothers to sneak around town, to visit the bar in boyish cloth so nobody could notice a woman was among the Shelby's. The sun faded as the smile on her face, and the dark clouds curled above the fair and obscured the beautiful memories.

"I can take you to the estate if you wish." Y/N breathed. "But I can understand if you don't want. I really can." she continued.

The words were not directed at Karl holding her right hand, but at the fierce boy whose eyes pierced her soul like a double-edged sword.

"We will be fine on our own. We don't need your help. Father told me why you left." Charlie sneered.

The words hit her like a poisoned arrow, but she didn't fall to the ground. The wound was aching, but the pain did not cloud her mind, saw clearly and advanced with Karl by her side. The boy clenched his hands into fists, braced himself, and he dared not to reconsider his father's words, to question them or twist them in a different way. Charlie grimaced and Y/N thought her brother was standing in front of her, telling her to get lost, to crawl back out of the hole she had come out of, but Y/N smiled.

Karl led the way, frowned, and noticed his aunt wasn't following him and time seemed not to pass, but the clouds were wandering.

"Come, I will take you to your father. He is certainly worried about you, Charlie. I don't care that you think I betrayed your family. I did nothing and if Thomas had listened to me for a moment, he would know the truth. Thomas did not let me speak as you do this very moment. You can curse me, but I will not leave you alone and you, as his son, should know best. I don't think I need to explain this matter to you." Y/N spoke in a calm tone.

"Come on Charlie, Aunt Y/N/N will take us home. She won't tell your dad," Karl interjected, but the words did not reach the boy wrapped and sheltered in a dark aura.

Charlie wrinkled, chuckled bitterly, and couldn't comprehend how Karl could be so close to the traitor, the treacherous woman, a serpent lurking in the grass.

"Okay." Charlie gave in, but he did not let his guard down, stayed prepared.

"Come on, Charlie, give me your hand. I don't want to lose you in the crowd." Y/N spoke.

“I am not a little boy.”, “Even a big boy can get lost, Charlie.” Y/N reasoned.

Charlie flinched, didn’t offer his hand to the stranger, not wanting to, tried to get away from her as quickly as possible, was disgusted by her mere presence, but when the eyes met, he thawed and hesitantly reached for her hand and clasped it tightly.

"My car is a little further away from here, come we must hurry.", "Of course and are you coming in too?" Karl asked.

Her heart shattered, wished to say yes, missed her siblings dearly, but she couldn’t, not after what had occurred.

"No Karl, I can't. It wouldn't be a good idea, but thank you very much for your offer, but I must decline. I have to hurry afterwards." Y/N answered.

No words fell, and an almost pleasant silence descended. Y/N drew the two boys away from the crowd, holding onto their hands, refusing to let go of them and merely shaking her head at the question of whether they could look at the horses. Charlie eyed his aunt dressed in a coat and a long dress in dark green hues critically. Calmness flooded his mind, saw her gentle eyes, the joy and happiness, but he hesitated to question his father's words in any way.

"I suppose you are married; you have a ring on your finger," Charlie said.

Thomas can't deny that you're his son, Y/N thought, and the grin on her lips was the answer Charlie needed.

"I don't remember a man asking one of your brothers for your hand in marriage," Charlie said.

Y/N was speechless, was a woman of many words, unfearful of guns and blood, a Shelby, but she couldn't speak but remembered whose blood was flowing through his veins.

"In this case, it was an exception and my beloved, most importantly, asked me for my hand in marriage. He is a dear, a very kind man and I am glad to have him by my side. We met a few years ago. I have always been fond of him, but he eventually asked me to join him for a walk around town and then we visited a museum in London.” Y/N revelled in the wonderful memories of romantic dinners and long walks beneath the starry sky.

"Aunty Y/N/N, where do you live? I wanted to visit you, but no one would tell me where you are. I want to send you letters. Dad said you are in London, but London is a big city." Karl asked.

"I am looking forward to reading your letters, Karl. I gave your father my address when I moved to London, and if you ask him kindly, he will certainly tell you the address." Y/N explained.

The sun escaped the fangs of the gloomy clouds and the rays were caressing the faces. Karl laughed, excited to be back in his room to write a letter to his aunt, not noticing how she tensed as her dark blue vehicle appeared behind the next corner. The unavoidable drew ever nearer, and she longed for an embrace, for her husband, for loving words to ease the fear, but her husband was not among the many men in dark suits.

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alicentsgf · 1 year

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Something that really bugs me about team black is that they call the greens evil, including Alicent, yet they defend Daemon to the ends of the earth.

Like if the guy who had a toddler killed in revenge isn't evil neither is the woman who never killed anyone and was instead just kind of catty. It doesn't matter if it's bookAlicent or showAlicent. Even at her worst she was just kind of a bitch (her insulting Rhaenyra's dead sons for example). Last time I checked being judgey and rude wasn't on par with having a toddler killed.

It doesn't matter if she bad mouthed Rhaenyra to her kids everyday and talked about how much she wished the woman dead--if Daemon is good at heart even after Blood & Cheese, so is Alicent. I'm sorry but idk how anyone can seriously call Alicent evil in the same breath as praising daemon as a good guy.

It really comes across as misogynistic that a male character can murder an innocent little kid and still be considered good deep down, while all a woman has to do to be labeled evil is *checks notes* be a bit mean.

Apart from just misogyny creating a huge double standard, I think in regards to Alicent (speaking just to the show for now) this stems from the genuine belief that the war was avoidable, so all the subsequent deaths are on her hands or something. But it wasn't avoidable. It might have been if the generation before Alicent and Rhaenyra had made different decisons, but by the time they're adults it would have taken a lot to escape the path that had been set out for them. That's a big reason why I like that they added in Alicent and Rhaenyra's relationship - it helps demonstrate that even them loving each other and wanting to reconcile at multiple points wasn't enough.

This faction of the fandom that hates Alicent so violently, from what I've seen, see Alicent as being just as bad because in their minds she caused the war, she got her children killed, she made them hate Rhaenyra and her sons. But really Rhaenyra and Alicent are both at fault, and equally not at fault, because they didn't cause the war, they just shaped the way it happened. And if they both made the situation worse? Because of their flaws and desperation to protect their children? Well... that still doesn't make them terrible people. At least they both show remorse for their actions.

But Daemon... Hes a bad person. He just is. He's murdered at least 2 innocent people at this point, and not out of desperation but just because it was convenient. And that's not me saying he isn't interesting or complex, he is, but he is also pretty much totally morally bankrupt. We have never seen him do anything but what he wanted to do. His only redeeming quality is the affection he shows his family, which might be more to do with his own pride than anything else since he repeatedly fails to extend his love for them beyond that and actually do what is right for them at any point.

And what's crazy about this is, Daemon being Daemon is a much bigger reason for the war than anything either Alicent or Rhaenyra do. If he wasn't so awful, Viserys would likely not have disregarded him as his heir. He never would have named Rhaenyra. He most likely would have waited and Aegon would have ended up the de facto heir. (And yes this is on Viserys too but that doesn't totally absolve Daemon). I also think its pretty obvious Rhaenyra wouldn't have been forced to marry before she was ready without Daemon's involvement/grooming, which might have avoided the bastardry issue as well.

#ask #anon #hotd #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #anti daemon targaryen #anti viserys i targaryen #hotd meta #hotd fandom critical

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the-cookie-of-doom · 5 months

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Episode 2: “She”

Pear really deserved better. Like, I feel for Mike and his situation, I feel for Peem, but damn. She really got the shittiest breakup. Not literally died over it levels of bad breakup, but still. So much of what happens in this series is so unnecessary. If Mike had been a little less selfish, the tragedy could have been avoided. Not even brave! He didn’t need to come out to break up with her! But he wanted the picture perfect life with a secret lover on the side, and unfortunately, that’s just now how things work. That’s what makes it such a good tragedy; you see where these characters could have gone right, but they have believable reasons for where they went wrong, instead.

So, when discussing why ghosts exist/haunt the earth, Peem says: “I think there are two things, either caring, or holding a grudge.” Which in his case, it’s both! In the first episode, during their kissing scene in the drama class, Peem looks downright malicious. He’s making Mike feel what it’s like to drown, what he himself felt, and enjoying Mike's terror. He’s laughing at it. So when this scene happens, it’s easy to think Peem is only there over a grudge. Except… when we get to the third episode, we also see some tender moments between them. He still cares, too.

Peem is also a possessive little thing. He knows he’s the other woman, but he’s happy to physically get between Mike and Pear when the three of them are on the couch, and she wants to trade places. He refuses, she leans around him to complain to Mike, and Peem leans forward and blocks her. Meanwhile Mike is hiding behind Peem, who picks up a book and holds it in front of both of their faces, Peem leaning in to Mike and physically cutting Pear out. The whole thing is played like he’s joking, they’re all laughing, but… for Peem, it’s more. He doesn't give up his spot beside Mike (and Mike doesn’t move to join Pear.) Peem is staking a subtle claim, and Mike is letting him. Because while Peem is possessive, Mike wants to be wanted. Not possessed, because he refuses to let Peem actually have him. But he gets a thrill from watching Peem keep him away from Pear. Whether or not you think the feelings for Peem were any deeper than surface level lust + convenience, he likes the attention Peem gives him.

Side note, the English lesson scene made my brain hurt. Sympathies for anyone learning it as a second language, bc oof.

Another side note, Peem is so painfully, obviously in love with Mike.

Look! How tender they are!!

I love this entire scene, because this is one of the times where we see Mike being fully, genuinely himself, and he’s a terrible flirt. He can’t even help himself. He’s making all kinds of innuendos (“maybe we should do something to help us wake up, then come back to read''), lowkey kabedon’s Peem by climbing over him after already asking him to hand over his guitar. He teases Peem for being a romantic when Peem flirts back, then offers to write him a song (Moment, my beloved ;_;). There is so much longing in this song, a desire to be close, to not let go, forever. And there’s a promise in it, too, the song ending with a repeated “There will always be you and me together”. That’s all Peem wants, reassurance that Mike will still be there for him, even if he stays with Pear. And it’s reciprocated! Mike wants to be with Peem. He just can’t admit it in any serious, concrete way.

Then here we have another example of Peem taking the initiative physically. Mike makes what could be taken as a confession, so Peem comes closer, like Mike is asking him to do; lays on his shoulder while he sings, kisses him when he trails off. Even when Mike is being flirty, he’s all talk, no action.

However, the scene does end with Mike laying Peem down to keep making out with him, technically taking initiative for the first (and only) time. As we’ve set up with their give-and-take, Peem rewarding Mike when giving him affection, Peem then chooses this moment to tell Mike he loves him. Mike, predictably, doesn’t respond. He hesitates, then kisses Peem again. He doesn’t give an answer one way or the other. If he doesn’t return Peem’s feelings, then he’ll lose him. But if he does, he’ll have to face all of the things he’s repressing. All he can give Peem is the physicality of their relationship. And Peem once again meets Mike halfway; instead of demanding a response, he accepts what Mike is willing to give him, because it’s better than nothing.

Interestingly, this very sweet scene is where everything goes to hell. Peem tries telling Mike off because Meen, their friend sleeping in the other room, will hear. Mike laughs it off and says it doesn’t matter because he’s asleep. Cut to Meen very much not asleep. This continues the pattern that when Peem puts himself out there, when he puts his trust in the things Mike tells him, he’s punished for it. Mike tells him everything’s going to be okay, and he wants to believe it, so he follows him down the path of his own destruction.

Gonna pivot over to Mike, once again, being a terrible, incorrigible flirt.

Peem: Mike, do you still want more sausage? Mike: Up to you. Do you still want to give it to me?

I hate this joke so much T_T But also, it is hilarious, and Mike is such an incorrigible flirt, this is exactly the kind of dumb shit he would say.

Bottom.

If you check out THIS gifset, we can see that Peem is the one leading things in their relationship. It happens on Mike’s terms, sure, but Peem is presumably the first guy he’s ever been with. So naturally Peem would be the one to more or less take charge. He’s the one pushing Mike into the table and taking his clothes off, while for the most part, Mike isn’t moving. Aside from that scene on the couch, Mike just. Lets this happen to him. I think a large part of that is a desire for plausible deniability on his part. He flirts relentlessly, but vaguely. Any comment that could approach a confession is dismissed by a joke. He wants Peem, but so long as he’s not an active participant in their relationship, he can pretend like he doesn’t.

Back to the pool scene, Mike isn’t expecting the kiss. He’s walking away when Peem pulls him back. He’s (very) into it, but he didn’t ask for it. In the BTS interview Jeff said it was like he was being passive/attacked (lol), which he explains as being because he chickened out/didn’t know what to do when the director told them to just go for it. Adorable, but also it does play nicely into Mike’s reluctance towards letting himself be with Peem.

Now. Let’s talk about Mike’s relationship with Pear. D/t the non-linear storytelling, and my not paying attention to throw-away lines, and a weird translation at the start of the ep, I didn’t realize Mike and Pear were dating until this scene!! RIP to me. Anyway.

This just breaks my heart. Look at her expression, compared to Mike's. She already knows that this over and he has no idea. She isn't even angry, she's resigned, she's already accepted it.

Pear deserved so much better. It’s her 3 year anniversary, and she gets to celebrate by finding out her boyfriend has been cheating on her for god knows how long. And Mike is so determined not to face any of his problems, he refuses to see that she is Not Having A Good Time. Playboy can’t charm his way out of this one, though. It’s so sad, too, because the way she looks at him in some shots, she clearly wants to believe he really loves her. He’s certainly acting like he does. She’s a very similar position to Peem in this scene; both of them want to know Mike loves them, but Mike is incapable of being fully with either of them.

Just like I do think Mike has genuine feelings for Peem, I also think he really loves Pear. I think he cares very deeply for her, and I don’t think he wanted to hurt her. But again, he’s shown time and again to be a very selfish character, and she recognizes that. Rather than choosing to believe he loves her and pretending she doesn’t know about Peem, she breaks up with him. (Good for her!)

Even when Mike finally does recognize that she’s upset (only once she says she wants to break up, forcing him to see her), he dismisses it. Laughs and deflects, the same as he does with Peem, because he doesn’t know what to do when confronted with EmotionsTM. And honestly—Pear handles this with the grace of a queen. She gives Mike a simple explanation: things aren’t working out, we should break up. She doesn’t blame him for cheating on her, doesn’t yell, doesn’t even tell him she knows about Peem. She probably recognizes why he’s cheating on her instead of breaking up with her first (wanting the safety his relationship with her provides, while experimenting, which feels incredibly dangerous), and tries to let him maintain at least some dignity and plausible deniability. If anyone asks, they could just say things didn’t work out and move on. She could have easily, and justifiably, raked him over the coals. But she doesn’t. She’s giving Mike the chance to bow out.

Of course he doesn’t take it. He either takes her home, or follows her there (assuming they’re all living in the same dorms?), demanding answers the whole time and getting the silent treatment. He asks her, “But if we don’t talk to each other, how can we solve it?” Very rich coming from the guy who’s refused to have a genuine conversation at every opportunity. He follows this with “I don’t know what I’ve done,” and she responds, “It’s better not to know.” Again, giving him the chance to leave with his dignity intact. She’s a better person than I would have been. It’s likely some measure of self-protection, too. No one wants to be the girl that got cheated on. But it would have been so easy for her to spread it around, out Mike for cheating on her with Peem, and ruin his life. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t want revenge. She isn’t vindictive.

Side note: Pear finally shows him the texts from Meen, exposing his cheating, and Mike runs off with her phone. My dude. Have you not caused enough problems without stealing her phone too??

Mike automatically assuming Peem is the one that outed him to Pear is interesting on two fronts.

Of course he does, how would anyone else know? Mike thinks he’s been successful at keeping things a secret, and Peem just confessed to him. He’s seen (and enjoyed) Peem getting possessive over him in front of Pear, and this is the natural escalation of that.

From what we’ve seen of their relationship so far, Peem never actually asks Mike to leave Pear. Probably because he knows he can’t trust Mike’s feelings for him (as he shouldn’t), and knows there’s no point. It would only serve to make Mike angry, which might make Mike leave him; Mike is only with him because Peem makes him feel good, after all. Peem might avoid Mike when he’s feeling rejected/neglected, and make sad eyes at him when Pear is involved, but for lack of a better term—he knows his place. And he knows his place in Mike’s life is beneath Pear.

Finally, the fight that ends it all. Mike’s internalized homophobia is becoming externalized!!! It’s really sad the way he attacks Peem. He knows Peem loves him—Peem is the only one who loves him, now. But Mike is so caught up on the end of his relationship with Pear, and what it represents—him failing to uphold the values he’s placed so much importance on—that he doesn’t care how much he’s hurting Peem. If anything, Peem’s heartbreak only makes this worse. Mike doesn’t want to love him. Peem tells him he has nothing left without Mike, and Mike doesn’t care. This could have been a moment of freedom for him, finally able to be with the person he loves, still safe in the knowledge that Pear will keep his indiscretions a secret. But he’s too self-centered, focusing on what he’s lost instead of what he still has/could have.

And Peem finally snaps back.

Peem: Have you ever had feelings for me, or do you just see me as your temporary fling? Mike: I don’t know! Peem: Or am I just someone who makes you feel good whenever you want? Mike: Remember this, I love Pear, not you! Not you at all!

True to the pattern, he is rejected for reaching out. Mike returns his honesty with deflection.

Here we see Peem finally confronting his own feelings. He’s known all along what he is to Mike: a source of validation and experimentation. He didn’t want to see it, because he probably hoped Mike would eventually learn to love him. Or, if he sees Mike's feelings, hoping that Mike would eventually admit them to himself. Even now he’s still reaching out, trying to calm Mike down. He never gets far enough to even suggest this could be a good thing, because they could finally be together.

Instead, their fight leads to Mike shoving Peem back, and Peem tripping into the pool. This is one of my favorite scenes of the whole thing because you see Mike struggling. He doesn’t know if he should jump in and save him. Then he remembers the last time this happened: Peem agreeing when Mike suggested he was only pretending to drown, only trying to get his attention. Here, Mike sees it as an attempt to make him stay. Peem pretends to be in danger to force Mike into saving him again—proving how much Mike cares for him.

But Mike leaves. And Peem drowns.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

#cookie speaks #he she it #jeff satur #gameplay garnpaphon #this is so embarassing I've posted 4k of meta so far #and i still have one more post to make

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trillscienceofficer · 1 year

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Had a Fenris Ranger show ever gotten made Seven would’ve probably accepted some truths about herself and dealt with the avoidance but Picard was so focused on Starfleet and putting her in a place she’d previously said she didn’t want to be that it’s like you said, negative character development. Still, I like what we got of her in the first two seasons and wanted to see more growth and vulnerability especially through her relationship with Raffi. Because as much as I like them together you’re right in that in being so avoidant she causes Raffi a lot of pain. It came off (season two) like Raffi was just that in love but I do think that eventually she’d be less willing to accept Seven coming and going both emotionally and physically?

(In reference to this post)

Oh for sure, I agree with you and I would have liked to see some more growth and vulnerability for Seven, the ending of S2 seemed to point in that direction even if (from what I gather) the season was less than ideal about getting to that final 'resolution' between Seven and Raffi. But then we got S3 and that breakup off-screen and that awkwardness between them and like... what am I supposed to get from that, except that Seven is once again running away from the chance of finding some stability and genuine care because she can't bear the idea of being honest about what she wants? Many others have said this better than me but her joining Starfleet feels like such a copout, after so many years in the Rangers. It's like we're seeing Seven having a stupid midlife crisis and trying to evoke the time she was on Voyager/had just returned to the AQ full of hope that she could belong somewhere, and belonging has always been what she wanted the most. Don't get me wrong, I can definitely see Seven doing exactly that (it's fitting, with this theme of both avoidance and frantic searching) but obviously the show never frames it as the deeply worrying development I think it is for her. Again, I get it: Seven's life objectively sucked so hard! It makes sense for her to be so dysfunctional! But it is absolutely an accidental narrative.

Mostly I'm sorry for Raffi who's had her own fair share of terrible experiences in life and she's bound to think that the breakdown of their relationship is her fault when, knowing Seven, it's very likely not. I also agree with you that I would've liked to see Raffi not putting up with so much of Seven's crap about ~fear of commitment~ or whatever. A Black woman having to carry entirely on her back the effort of maintaining a relationship with a white partner is just a racist storyline, like there is no arguing that as far as I'm concerned, and it's doubly offensive given Seven of Nine's long history of being handed narratives that end up stifling characters of color. I wish Raffi had been given so much more space, and better storylines where she had so much more agency, even (and maybe especially) when it came to Seven. It's all really stupid because given the paragraph above, it's not like Seven got good stories on Picard either! And yet Raffi got the short end of the stick anyway.

(Seven really fucked up with Raffi, like... love the inherent messiness of their situation post-Picard canon and I think they're not over each other but if we're talking about healthy relationships then imho Raffi should probably just get as far away as possible from Seven until Seven gets her act together, if she ever does. Like many others I do want them to be happy together but I don't know how they can do that with the premises we're left with. And I do also love train wrecks, so there's that.)

The only thing that I see differently from you is that... I don't think the Rangers were that much better for Seven. I mean I also would have preferred for her to stay a pirate who's into good deeds (much more than Starfleet for sure! did they really want to make a show on the Rangers? That would've been cool). But the way I see it, she was a Ranger for so many years and it never really made her life better, either. To me Picard!Seven, even in S1, always looked like someone who is masking 100% of the time, who has a barely disguised alcohol addiction and is clearly restless and unhappy where she is, and who carries so much guilt for her past bad choices (especially in people). If being a Ranger was her true calling, why doesn't it seem to make her life any easier, or at least allow her to be true to herself a little? Something needs to change majorly for the Rangers to become a place where Seven can start growing again. But again, your perspective as someone who liked the first two seasons of Picard is totally understandable to me! I just never gelled well with this show at any time, so I'm more critical of its early choices too.

#askbox #seven of nine #raffi musiker #pic #picard critical #this sounds like i hate seven but don't i just think she's the wettest most pathetic 50yo loser #whom i still love very much

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empty-blog-for-lurking · 9 months

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Okay, so remember that concept with allura having amnesia? Ive been thinking about that. a lot. and how it related to kuron specifically-

Beacuse there are PARALELLS here. They both have to deal with a legacy left by a past version of them and they both irreversibly change as people. Kuron resents Shiro and what he represents, and allura struggles with living up to the mysticisied and glorified hero everyone tells her shes supposed to be. and its like- if they talked about it like NORMAL PEOPLE, if Kuron had ANY emotional intelligence left, they would see that they have a lot in common actually!!

BUT. at the same time. I dont think its really possible for them to do that, at least right now, beacuse a huge fuckin part of kurons trauma was caused by allura fucking KILLING HIM, and hes understandably pissed about it. and i think that allura not remembering anything would only make him even more upset, bc everyone besides him mourned and idolisied her, and constantly hearing how great and noble the person who killed you was must suck ass, and then she COMES BACK, and maybe Kuron wants to yell at her and make her feel guilty for what she did and he wants to look her in the face and tell her exactly what he thinks about her- but he CANT. beacuse she killed him, took his body from him, and she DOESNT REMEMBER.

i dont really know where i'm going with this, but. yeah. this whole situation propably sucks ass for both of them(maybe theyll never reconsile. Maybe they wont end up as friends. And that's okay!! its cool to think about tho)

Bestie, my friend, my dude, my guy, mere yaar, yOU HIT THE NAIL RIGHT ON THE SPOT!!!!

So much of post s8 au is people who could have understood one another but dont because of the trauma everyone has, and Allura and Kuron are prime examples of it.

Kuron is not happy with her at all and all this 'hero worship' around her just further exacerbates it cause she used his body to bring back Shiro. Didnt even care that they were friends, didnt even care that he was a person, didnt even care that he may have been still alive, just used his body to bring Shiro back. And he hates her for it and hates people treating her like a hero and would have let her know that she's the worst but what is the point of that? She isnt here is she? She's dead and gone and they couldnt even bring back a body to bury because nothing of her left. So really what is the point of hating a dead woman? He avoids anything and every thing to do with her, and just tries very hard not to think about her, no bad vibes here sir we are just chillin hahahaha 😎😎😎😎😎

.......and then she comes back! And oh boy. Kuron is not having a good time at all. He is still very much avoiding her. If she's in the room, he's leaving the room and if he cant than being extremely snide and just glaring at her. Like he truly does want to explode on her and many times came close as well, but than he just walks out and screams in a pillow.

Allura has no fucking clue what to do with him. She doesnt even know him, doesnt know what his problem is, and thinks he's annoying. Really annoying and rude and she knows when she isnt wanted. Like she has met some genuinely terrible people on her journey throughout multiverse and Kuron is definately much better than them but also?? He's a fucking cunt. Everyone else is on the edge around him but no one wants to talk about it. And fine! Whatever! It's not like she's curious about what the fuck is up with this guy, or why he's the only one who doesnt look at her and is either about to cry or look at her like she personally put stars in the sky. She has too many problems and doesnt have the time for some dude's hostility.

But like once she knows about the whole mind replacing thing? Either because she was told or because she remembered bits and pieces. She's going to feel so guilty about it! Like crushing guilt. She'll try to make it up to him but given that he doesnt want to talk to her and even if he did she is convinced he probably hates her and doesnt want to see hom so she just. Going down the guilt spiral. Along with everything else

And yeah I think Kuron can never forgive Allura just like how he can never forgive Shiro. But i also think they'll come to an understanding and realize that they are similar and learn how to live with their pasts without it consuming them.

#I may change a few things when i get better ideas but for now #it is so funny to me no one is talking with each other #empty answers #post s8 au #Honestly this concept is just very fun to me in this au i had an idea of a drawing based around this for a while now #(warning gore in tags ahead)#It was Lance Allura Kuron with their past dead selves.#Kuron was holding his bleeding chained past self protectively ready to attack.#Allura was sitting behind her statue in its shadow and holding wilting juniberry flowers #Lance had his back turned towards the viewer standing infront of three graves 2 of them dugged open #He had shovel in one hand and cut off head of his younger self in other #<=gore over #Thanks for asking!!!!!

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animeyanderelover · 2 years

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19/25. This character was suggested.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsession, delusions, clinginess, dependence, mental instability, manipulation, abduction, death

Yandere Christa Sakamaki

▫️Christa is dependent on her darling to a high degree. It is no secret that she is a very unstable person who was shattered after she found out about Karlheinz's reason for marrying her. Her mindset has been broken ever since so the moment she gets attached to her darling, they become her sole pillar of stability and comfort. She literally can't be left alone by you for more than a few minutes or she'll have a psychotic fit where she is violent and extremely paranoid. It results in her clinging onto her darling all the time, it is a must that she has to touch you or vice versa since it gives her a sense of peace and stability. I'd say whilst she definitely is aware of her own state of mind, she has huge problems telling her own needy obsession apart from what she would call more of a genuine love and affection.

▫️If you are with her, Christa reverts back to her quiet, meek and gentle personality where she dots on her s/o a lot. She worships her darling, views them as her own hero and savior of some sort since they genuinely help her to calm down and be lucid of her own surroundings since she struggles with her grasp of reality and sometimes can't even tell the difference between identities. In a way the situation she is in is more manipulative than Christa is herself. She pours out her heart when it comes to you, only tells the truth and is distrubingly obedient yet it is clear that you are unable to leave her. She'd positively suffer a mental breakdown, might even end up hurting her own son in the process. Christa Sakamaki can't function without you.

▫️It is the same story it was already with Karlheinz, only that you are now the subject of her affection. Despite her innocent and obedient facade, Christa has a strong sense of pride when it comes to you and the love she oh so much craves. Even if she is in poor health, Christa is not above being more possessive when it comes to her darling since she's gone through a traumatic experience that tore her apart mentally already once in regards of her lover. What you witness every time you do talk to one of the other wives is a mix out of desperation, possessiveness and paranoia. Especially Cordelia has to be avoided since you do not want another dispute between her and Christa. It isn't even a matter of whether you're interested or they are interested, it boils down to the matter that you talk to someone else and ignore her a bit because of it.

▫️You'd expect someone as soft-spoken and gentle as her to be on a more innocent side but keep in mind that her mental health is already broken as it is. Christa has a frightingly malicious side to her and she isn't above committing the act of murder when she fears that you'll betray or leave her because of a certain someone. From deceiving and poisoning someone to stabbing someone with a knife, there are options she chooses from. Additionally I have a distinct feeling that Subaru will murder for his mother as well, especially since he sees how much you help her and how much she needs you. Chances are that Christa ends up thanking him when he tells her what he's done and ends up praising him which resorts to only more twisted ideas and delusions. He works for his mother's happiness so he won't care if he gets his hands bloody.

▫️Do you have the strength to walk away from a woman who literally needs you or else she can't live anymore? The situation is very difficult to handle and even if Christa holds back with manipulating you, Subaru certainly won't. He's a bit violent even as a young child which is to blame on his terrible past he has had so far and the boy is ready to do anything for his mother. That includes keeping you near her and it's not like Christa doesn't latch onto you like a leech whenever you are with her or starts desperately begging when you're about to leave for mere seconds.

▫️Subaru might as well turn into a platonic Yandere for Christa's darling, calls her his other parent besides his mother and Christa encourages and supports him. It's quite obvious that both white-haired vampires want you as part of their family, need you to even be a family as well. Christa still harbors attachment for Kalrheinz to the point where she even thinks about introducing you to her cousin yet her son is strictly against it since he despises him for what he's done. Under the reassurance of you by her side, Christa is somewhat able to act normal, she's mostly a doting and gentle partner and mother. It all is ruined the moment you leave her though which results in a horrific meltdown.

#yandere diabolik lovers #yandere christa #yandere christa sakamaki

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cyarsk52-20 · 1 year

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I wouldn't be mad if Megan came out with a song that called out every person in the industry by name who shitted on her during that trial… lyrically destroy them! The fact that there are still people defending him disgusts me. I’ll never understand this obsession with wanting assault victims to be liars. i will get back to my rant in a moment but i need to say that i always want the world to burn and pay for their crimes for their mistreatment of black women.

it’s not just meg. Rihanna, Kelis, Tina Turner, Ashanti, Keke Palmer, Dee Barnes, Michel'le, & so many other Black women were done wrong

Aaliyah never really came forward. But when the news broke that she was illegally married to R. Kelly she was shamed as if she wasn’t a victim. You can literally look up what happened during that time. Her industry peers was still working with him & didn’t give a damn.

Robin Givens was framed as a “gold digger” & was victim blamed after Mike Tyson abused. The Black community was terrible to her. Despite Mike Tyson saying in his book that punching Robin Givens “was the best punch I've ever thrown in my entire life.”…

People were nasty as hell to K Michelle when she accused Memphitz of abusing her. Only for him to later admit that he actually abused her. I can’t recall anyone who dogged her out in his defense recanting or even apologizing for the harm they brought to her.

Biggie used to abuse tf out of Lil Kim & instead of people acknowledging what happened to her they just rush to talk about her plastic surgeries (as a result of abuse btw)

Karruche, Tyra Banks , Kimora Lee Simmons , Tisha Campbell etc. all lost jobs and opportunities for speaking up

The police leaked Rihanna’s nude pictures from her phone. Nas & Dr Dre are still pillars in the community. People made fun of Keke hiding from Trey. The women of love & hip hop basically told K. Michelle she was lying. Like come the tf on. Society doesn’t care about victims especially if they are black.

if you support a nasty person who hates bw and intentionally harms them and abusers, then you’re dead to me and you can go to hell you abuser and anti bw slut!

Now back to that Canadian pos.

It’s the way he’s gone out of his way so many times to avoid accountability and paint him as innocent it’s disgusting. The narcissism. The sociopathy. The way he played the victim

Overall, Tory’s ego is why he is in the predicament that he’s in. Not because of him shooting a woman (a problem in itself). Had he owned up to what he did & took a plea deal, he would’ve been better off. He would have never had to face two decades of prison and deportation, just a couple of years in jail and that’ would be it.

& We all know folks love an abuser redemption arc. I just see it now “he took accountability for what he did” “he changed” “he’s showing growth”.. So folks would’ve ate that up! 🙃🙃 like you can’t redeem those who haven’t genuinely repented

God really blessed him with the worst team/lawyers possible. Still remember his lawyer acting a fool. “Y’all come back with a not guilty verdict yet?” He really thought social media was the judge and jury 🤣😂🤣😂

He thought the fact other misogynists and abusers were loudly backing him meant he would've gotten off. Womp womp!

she more of a real nigga than him. she was just gone let that shit ride but he started talking shit. He should have been grateful that she didn’t turn his dusty behind to the cops at the crime scene at first, she was gonna let him off the hook and was willing to let the whole situation go as well? She was being extremely gracious but he chose clownery, he still decided to run his mouth & drag her on the internet now he’s jailed. It’s what he deserves.

the fact that she literally tried to protect him from the police at first despite what he did to her. she was literally willing to let it go and try to move on, HE dragged it and was in the blogs calling her a liar.

Literally or just not say anything if no one else was saying anything he decided to drag it a be corny

if a mf show you mercy, just take that lesson and keep it pushing. At the very least be grateful. Most people would have turned that person who shot them that same night and called the cops. When people grace you you better not take it for granted.

I swear people be getting too big for they britches and think fat meat ain’t greasy.

i say this all the time not once did he show a ounce of empathy or even keep quiet , he was antagonizing her for a whole 2 years straight being the ring leader having ppl encourage his disgusting behavior, Literally all he has to blame is his ego. Megan had no initial intention of cooperating with the state/cops or outing him as the shooter. He could have gotten away with this if he wasn't such an egotistical, opportunistic, entitled, sociopathic, narcissistic, misogynist prick. so now he’ll have plenty of time to think about his actions and I hope they deport that leprechaun with the quickness 🫶🏾 .

It’s definitely his fault and I’m glad to see him burn.

#Poor baby smh she’s been through so much 🫶🏽🥺#fuck everyone and everybody who said that megan was lying #they can all choke #my heart is constantly with meg 💝 she's been through far too much #I’ll never forgive anyone who disrespects and abuses black women #Rihanna #Kelis #Tina Turner #Ashanti #Keke Palmer #Dee Barnes #Michel'le #& so many other Black women.#To hell with the world they will pay for their crimes for disrespecting black women #Don’t fuck with black women #Don’t harm them or disrespect them if you can’t love them #K. Michelle #Robin Givens #Janet Jackson #Whitney Houston #i will always want the world to burn and pay for their crimes for their mistreatment of black women.#If you supported abusers and those who have done black women dirty #then you are dead to me and you can go to hell #i don’t give a fuck #I don’t even care if you’re my mother #You are nothing to me if you are being a cocksucker to an abusers and someone who has disrespect bw.#i said what i said #argue with the fucking wall

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probablynotsamantha · 1 year

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ngl i hate that most of the responses to things like "you can't have trans women in the women's [insert place where nudity occurs] because a woman might see a penis" is something about how trans women are very private with their changing while being perfectly happy to accept (and indeed often reasserting) that having a dick in a space like that is a transgression that must be skirted around and avoided acknowledging as much as possible.

We don't make cis women do that, and I kinda despise that if/when i would be brave enough to use a women's changing room/locker room/whatever I'd still be subject to additional constraints that don't fall upon cis women. The pool I went to when I was very little had women changing everywhere, women naked in the showers, no dividers between the showers, and by some miracle nothing terrible happened when toddler me was there, not to mention nobody batted an eyelash about that.

I should be allowed to just shower naked without worrying about "oh but someone might see a penis". Big fucking deal. It's a body part. Some women have them. Another common refrain is "Just wait until bottom surgery." Somehow I don't think you'd be any more comfortable with me existing after that, since I'd still have my dick. Having one group being forced to undergo an expensive medical procedure they may not want and comes with an extensive recovery time before gaining "equal" status maybe doesn't seem terribly ethical.

It's frustrating to see the general consensus on this issue being that you absolutely cannot change in the presence of cis women, not because they might react poorly (though this is my main reason for not doing so) but because it would be unconscionable for a cis woman to have to see a dick and anyone "making" her do so would clearly be in the wrong (and i've even heard some people say that it should be considered a sex crime). It doesn't make remote sense to me that someone is responsible for someone else, in a space where nudity is expected, looking at them naked and being offended.

It makes it hard for me to truly accept someone as a trans ally when they say or believe or accept stuff like this. They're the type who are all for trans people, until it's slightly inconvenient. That's not allyship, that's posturing. If this whole mess of a post made you uncomfortable (on the off chance that anyone but a few mutuals read this), think about why that is. I'm genuinely curious why people think this, because it's never been a view i've held, but I can't come up with any worth holding onto (all i've got is thinking trans women are dangerous because of the risk of sexual assault, some puritanical bs about genitals and nudity being inherently sexual, some weird attachment to the gender binary, or "think of the children", which as mentioned above, doesn't make any sense because kids routinely go into locker rooms that don't correspond to their gender).

What's even more frustrating are the trans people who think I'm ruining things for them because I'm the scary type of trans people that they're nothing like. I had the gall to ask on r/MtF a couple years ago about locker room etiquette and someone told me I shouldn't even think about locker rooms until after I've had bottom surgery. It's a surprisingly common attitude that we shouldn't talk about this sort of thing because it plays into the narrative of trans women as predators, and instead of treating that assertion as the ridiculous argument it is, we're supposed to carefully tiptoe around everywhere to avoid doing anything that could conceivably be misconstrued as predatory, and guess what? We're still being called predators anyway. Almost like it wasn't a legitimate concern and just a scare tactic.

#reblogs are totally fine on this btw #i put some effort into this and ive decided i would be okay with people i don't regularly interact with seeing it

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streetslost · 2 years

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ON CAT’S AUNT AND UNCLE

hi, welcome to Kylie Rambles ( tm ). idk what the exact goal of this ramble is, just to spew thoughts about these two figures i never really talk about but have made a huge impact on cat’s life.

i wanna talk about her aunt and uncle ( mary and robert ) for a moment because of all her “villains,” i actually consider them the most complex ( though... still not that complex ). after all, copper is a sociopath, maurion is a sick fuck, and vinnie’s just an idiot, teenage boy ( who does actually redeem himself later on in cat’s “canon” ). mary and robert have somewhat of a story built up, and their abuse of cat doesn’t stem from physical like copper and maurion’s do. like vinnie, they align with emotional tactics, though unlike the boy, they actually never purposefully tried to maintain, preserve, or promote her love for them.

robert and mary were a terrible couple from the get-go. mary forever felt in the shadow of her younger sister ( cat’s mother, cadence ). this led to brewing frustration, hatred, and pitiful self esteem. mary learned to take what she could get and not be afraid to undercut the system to give her an edge. though pretty and intelligent in her own right, she was merely always outshined by cadence’s exuberant personality and adoring nature. cadence was the prized sister at school and at home, though both of them would certainly go on to prove very poor choices in husbands. mary more so due to developing a petty sense of herself and the world.

at the time of their meeting, robert was successful and mary handled a job herself. the two starting seeing each other and eventually married more out of status and expectations than genuine affection. robert never wanted a family or to have that kind of life while mary wanted nothing more than to experience happiness and affection in a setting where she wasn’t being held to standards she didn’t fit.

it worked fine for a time, but then cadence mysteriously died and sarah was left to mary’s care. the woman was shocked that her sister would do as such. their relationship was strained at best... but their parents were gone and apparently the father was a shithead. not being heartless, mary took the child in, though reluctant. she learned swiftly that robert couldn’t even muster up sympathy. he made it clear sarah was going to be gone once he could help it, but mary felt conflicted. cadence had pleaded in the will for mary not to leave her child in the system. papers was dodged and faked. in the end, the “adoption” was never truly legal, but sarah was there anyways out mary’s confusion and minor empathy.

the “mother” dodged promising love and affection to sarah. she wanted to keep the child alive... she did like kids. she wanted her own, but the complexity and difficulties of which sarah came about caused mary to brood and robert to spiral. he lost his job and soon most of his money due to his alcohol and gambling habits. they downgraded to an apartment with barely enough room, and sarah’s emotional needs were now compounded with somewhat of a physical. they could barely afford themselves, and robert’s priorities were not for the child they were unwillingly housing.

mary did her best to just keep up appearance so sarah wouldn’t be questioned on neglect or abuse. the police were the last thing needed.

neither adult ever struck the little girl. mary never berated her other than to tell her to pick up her toys or go to her room. robert would yell things at times, generally when he was drunk and by the tv. it grew worse when timmy came into the picture because now he had a legal and biological child on his hands. one that mary loved deeply and tended to in ways sarah would never experience.

the little girl learned more about love from movies, tv, and friends’ houses than from her own home, but she never quite grasped that the people she thought were her parents weren’t, and that their abrasive and avoidant nature of her was anything less than family. she just figured hers was different. she wasn’t understanding of her touch starved nature and crumbling need for genuine affection.

mary felt atrocious when they abandoned sarah, but she had hoped that with leaving her, robert might start to change and love his true family. that and sarah would just be found and put in the system... there was never any expectation the child would run off like she did.

so with sarah in the wind, potentially dead, mary is left to focus on if she can mend the family she has. she waits for robert to become what she always hoped, but he doesn’t do that. so a few years later, at sarah’s strange appearance on the street, mary feels nothing for the man when he’s stabbed repeatedly by their former ward. he lives, but mary divorces him and takes timmy with her. far away. she wants to move passed her regret and mistakes and make certain timmy is free from the strain of her failures and sarah’s existence. she never truly makes amends with cat, but the two reach an understanding of letting the other live in peace when cat is reunited with scott.

robert doesn’t last long out of the hospital. his drinking and attitude grow worse, and he’s arrested himself. thankfully he doesn’t share a prison with jason, the two can rot separately as horrible men/fathers.

#&&. headcanon ( a closed heart makes a poor story )#abuse mention //

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etherealnoir · 1 year

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ED Talk tw;

---

I saw my ED therapist for the first time today and had a breakthrough.

I said to her that I have a terrible relationship with food because I was never really raised to believe it's something you consume for nourishment. You ate "bad food" when you were feeling a specific emotion like joy or sadness or anger. Fast food was "a treat" for a good grade or good behavior. It wasn't until I became chubby that I was told to eat "good food." And so naturally, I grew up thinking that healthy food existed purely for punishment. Fruits and salads were pushed on me because they wanted me to stop being fat, and not because they wanted me to be healthy.

So, of course, I found that I would avoid them. I don't know how to eat healthy, nourishing food and genuinely enjoy it. I never learned that delicious, healthy food can also be a treat and isn't a punishment.

So she referred me to a nutritionist. A black woman who specializes in EDs. I could really cry because I feel like I've gone by whole life never taking care of my body because 1) I never knew how and 2) I felt like I never deserved it.

Like...a quality diet and proper exercise have never been "Good Things." They've only ever been forms of punishment for being fat. And that's why it was so hard for me to get around to making these things work for me.

TLDR; I have to rewire my brain to see food and exercise as both "essential," and "good for you" and not something to see as punishment for existing in the body I'm in.

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hellotherepalpalpals · 2 years

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Brought Together by a Five-Year-Old (Dean Winchester x F!Reader) Part 11: The Father

The weekend was a tempestuous nightmare of feelings for Dean. He couldn't really fight it anymore, this woman was really growing on him and he was happy about it. He spent the weekend contemplating how to deal with this. Obviously, she was interested, but she had also told him they couldn't start anything... now. She did say now. So the future is an option. Maybe. What if she didn't like the kiss and was just trying to get him to go and avoid the subject? But she had kissed him back. A lot. So that couldn't be it... right?

He wouldn't admit it but he had called Sam far too many times to talk about it. If he was honest, he had called Sam as soon as he got back to his apartment. While his brother had been wholeheartedly supportive of the night's events, Dean was apprehensive.

He had no idea what to do with this situation and he was panicking. He didn't like panicking. He didn't like losing control. He tried so hard to keep control no matter what, that was why his job was perfect for him and why he was so damn good at it. He'd been practicing his whole life, just to make sure he didn't end up like his volatile father who couldn't handle any sort of emotion or pressure. Sure, the man had been through a lot but he probably should've gone to a psychologist instead of a bartender. If that man had spent as much time in therapy as he had spent in the bars when Dean and Sam were kids then he'd be the most introspective and psychologically aware man in the whole fucking world. But hey, it gave Dean reason to back off on drinking once he realized he was following the same path as his father, so he supposed he could thank the man for that. And he wouldn't have Uncle Bobby without his dad and frankly, he's not sure he would've made it through high school, let alone college, without Bobby keeping him in line.

Dean was currently sitting in his classroom, contemplating his choices and waiting, watching the seconds tick by on the wall clock. They were agonizingly long seconds. He knew soon she would be here, dropping off her son. He had no idea what he was going to say, what he was going to do. Now that he had had a taste of her he was having a really hard time waiting. He knew it would be worth it, he just had this feeling, but it was going to be difficult. And he really didn't know how to interact with her now.

The minutes passed slowly and Dean was growing more and more anxious, alternating from checking the time on the wall clock, his watch, and his phone. The Novaks arrived and he dealt with their mother in a haze of anxiety, his mind wandering. Did she move away? Take S/N and leave? Did she hate him that much? Was he that bad of a kisser? Ok now he was being stupid, he knew he was good and she wouldn't do that. She was better than that. She would communicate with him.

More kids filed in and still there was no sign of either Y/N or S/N. Dean was starting to get genuinely worried, not only for his feelings and prospective relationship but for the two people he had come to care about. Maybe S/N was sick? And this was just some god shitting on Dean by timing the events of his life this way to cause him emotional anguish. Or maybe they got in an accident? It had been a whole weekend, something terrible could've happened to them! Maybe they were both in the ER and Y/N's family wouldn't come because Dean remembered her mentioning that some looked down on her for her status as a single mother what if they were dead on the side of the road because S/N wanted to go get Thai food and they got caught in the middle of a robbery or got mugged on the way home and they were just laying in an alley with their food spilled around them and no one even knew. His heart racing, Dean scrambled to grab his phone. He frantically filed through his papers, trying to find the emergency contact information for S/N. He paid no mind to the confused eyes that watched him from tiny chairs around the room, his only thought being that he had to call now he had to know they were ok. Fingers trembling, he dialed the number. Holding the phone up to his face he tried to steady his breathing, realizing as he heard it ring that he was probably overreacting and S/N was probably at home with the flu and Y/N had just forgotten to call or they had slept through their alarms or maybe it was 'bring your kid to work' day. He reassured himself by remembering that it was normal for teachers to call home if students didn't show up and he was being responsible, if possibly a bit dramatic.

His breath caught in his throat as he heard the click of the phone being picked up. A small, anxious voice spoke, "Hello?"

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, "Hey, Y/N, is everything ok?"

She responded, sounding possibly a bit relieved though still frantic, "Oh, yeah. Hey Dean. Yes, everything is alright. S/N won't be coming in today. I'll explain more another time. Thank you for checking in."

Dean nodded before remembering she couldn't see him, "Yeah of course totally. You're sure you're alright?"

Sounding mildly exasperated, though he had a feeling it was less at him and more at whatever situation she was in, she replied, "Yes, yes, I promise. And I will explain at some point. I really have to go. Thank you though. You're very sweet, Dean." With a click, she hung up and left Dean to wallow in his confusion.

Puttering through the daily routine, Dean found himself worrying far too much, far more than he wanted to allow himself, about the L/Ns. Before he knew it the school day was over and his room was deserted of any life aside from his. He sat on his desk fretting, taking this welcome silence as a chance to think.

Contemplating checking in again, he meandered around his room, tidying up mindlessly. Dean realized after a few minutes that he had paced around the classroom twice, possibly three times, and decided to sit down at his desk and try to be productive.

As soon as he sat down he heard a light rapping on the door. With a slight groan, he pushed himself out of his chair and trudged over to the door with trepidation. He peered through the glass, seeing a figure standing in the dark hallway. Pushing down the small fear he always faced when he thought he was made aware he wasn't alone in the building after hours, he touched a finger to the amulet on his keychain, mentally rolling his eyes at his own superstitious and paranoid actions. The figure shifted on its feet before leaning forward and knocking again, this time with a bit more force. Dean blinked and grabbed the handle, opening it and bracing himself for a lecture from the janitor about whatever he must've been there for.

What he got was a sheepish smile from the woman he had been worrying about all day. Dean stood, halfway hidden behind the door, speechless. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/N looked up at him and asked quietly, "Could I come in?"

He nodded and took a step back, stumbling on his own foot, and opened the door wider to give her space to enter. She nodded in thanks and timidly stepped into the room. Dean closed the door, waiting for Y/N to speak. She turned around and with a deep breath began to talk, "So. I feel like I should start with an apology, for being rude on the phone and for coming here unannounced and expecting you to have the time to listen to me tell you all sorts of things you don't need to know. It's just, I don't know, I felt like you deserved an explanation and, frankly, I've had a really rough day and needed someone to talk to. So this is actually far more selfish than I'd have you think." She laughed awkwardly and Dean felt a soft smile creep onto his face. "Anyway, if you're dreadfully busy I can come back later or call you or something. I also don't want to overwhelm you with information you don't want so really you can tell me to leave."

Dean held his hand up and Y/N paused her ramblings. Chuckling he moved closer to her, taking her in his arms for a moment. She melted at his touched and held onto him with a tender neediness that flashed visions of a domestic future through Dean's head. One where they were each other's rocks and supported each other through anything held together with love and respect and care. He tightened his grip on her, hoping to give her the comfort she so obviously needed and prove he was deserving of being someone she could confide in. He took a deep breath before speaking, "You kinda looked like you needed a hug."

He felt her laughter, her body shaking in his arms, before he heard the muffled sound of her twinkling laugh. He smiled to himself, feeling satisfied that he could help her loosen up a little bit. Feeling her arms relax, he took a step back. She immediately brought her arms up in front of her chest in a sort of vulnerable and insecure pose. He smiled sweetly, or at least tried to, at her to make her feel more comfortable and was rewarded with a small smile in response.

"So, what do you need to talk about?" Dean asked tentatively, not wanting to push her too much.

Chewing on her lip anxiously, she responded, "You're sure you have time for this?"

Dean let out a hearty laugh, "Yeah of course I do. One, I'm a teacher in an elementary school, one night of not working intensely on what to prepare for the class won't kill me. Two, you need someone to talk to and I want to be that person for you. I'll be here to listen and help any time you need me to be." He hoped she didn't hear the unspoken confession that he felt accompanied his overly supportive little speech.

If she did hear the deeper meaning behind Dean's words she didn't mention it, though her eyes seemed to grow a bit softer and she relaxed ever so slightly.

Dean waited a moment for her to begin. She took a couple of breaths, seemingly building herself up to talk, "Ok. This is going to be a lot to take in. And I'm sorry in advance. So, obviously, you know I'm a single mother." Dean chuckled slightly and nodded at this, causing a small smirk to grow on Y/N's face, "Shut up. As I was saying, I'm a single mother but obviously, S/N has a father. The problem is that his father has no idea how to be a father. Or a boyfriend. Or a friend even." She broke off here, her eyes looking everywhere but Dean's. She shook her head and continued, "So anyway, he's a pretty terrible person. We knew each other through college and I... I don't know, in college, his behavior seemed normal and justified, all the drinking and cheating and drugs. I thought... I used to think I could fix him or that I was special because sometimes his anger would dissipate around me. I thought I knew him so well and could help him grow and become a good man with his life in order. I realize now that no one can help him but himself. If he doesn't want to change then he can't. Anyway, I dealt with him because I felt it was my duty and like I could make a difference blah blah blah. Then he started getting violent. Drunk, sober, didn't matter. He was angry and he would take it out on me. I kicked him out and then I found out I was pregnant. I didn't tell him but eventually, he found out and tried to be a part of my and S/N's lives. I had to get a restraining order. He was locked up for awhile, for what I'm not sure but apparently, he got out last night. He showed up at my house at three this morning, drunk off his ass and banging on the door. He practically traumatized S/N. I had to call the police and it turned into an entire day of hell. I sent S/N off to his cousin's house to spend the night. I left his father at the police station and I doubt he could get out but I didn't want to take the chance of him coming back and scaring S/N or breaking in and hurting either of us. When I left he kept yelling about how he wasn't going to stay away and how he deserved to be in S/N's life and would do so, regardless of how." She rushed through the story, watching Dean with anxious eyes. "I know I should've left his father far earlier than I did but, there were times when we were good. Now I see that those times didn't make up for the majority of the time when things were bad but I couldn't see that then. He was so manipulative and he knew exactly how to make me feel like every issue was my fault. It's taken me a long time to get back to a solid level of confidence and self-respect."

Dean stayed silent until he was sure she was done speaking. When she looked back up into his eyes he could see she didn't want to discuss it anymore.

He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her into a hug, "You are so strong. And you shouldn't have to deal with any of that. Now, you're surrounded by people that love and respect you. I've only known you for a few months and I know you're special. So does Sammy and us Winchesters take our relationships with people we care about very seriously."

He felt her sniffle and giggle into his chest, "Aw you care about me. You big sap."

Dean pulled away and threw on an aghast and overly offended face, "How dare you? I'm offering up the support of two very intimidating and cool guys and you just tease me for it?" He couldn't help a smile from spreading across his face as he watched her take his words seriously for a split second before she smiled and shoved his chest playfully. "You're something else, Dean Winchester."

Dean chuckled at that and winked at her, "So I've been told."

She rolled her eyes and smiled, "Shut up, Dean." Her face grew serious again and she went quiet. Immediately full of concern Dean grabbed her arms softly, getting her attention, "Hey, what's going on? You ok?"

She smiled shakily, "It's dumb, but I'm still a little nervous about going back to my place."

Dean shook his head, "That's really not dumb at all. It sounds like your ex is a real threat." He paused, debating whether or not he should continue with his thoughts. Looking into her beautiful E/C eyes, filled with fear and possibly a bit of something else, affection maybe. He saw the emotion swimming in her eyes and felt his senses being overridden by her. He opened his mouth again and spoke at the same time as Y/N.

"I could stay with you." "Couldyoupossiblystaythenight?"

Dean laughed lightly, "Yeah, if that doesn't make you uncomfortable. I know how hard it can be to be alone at night, especially with a threat like that hanging over your head. I can take the couch or whatever."

She shook her head vigorously, "No no no I wouldn't make you do that. I have a guest bedroom, Dean, that's much nicer than the couch. If you really don't mind I would appreciate the company tonight."

Dean nodded, "Let's just stop by my apartment so I can grab a couple of things and then we can head over to your place." He relished in the fact that he had actually spoken those words to her in real life, though maybe the situation wasn't exactly what he had imagined. Regardless, he was happy she found solace in him and wanted him around to comfort her. He wanted to be everything she needed and now was as good of a time as any to start to prove his worth.

He grabbed his coat and bag, turning back to Y/N and holding out his hand cautiously. She stared at it for a moment before reaching out to grab it and letting him lead her out of the room.

She clasped onto his hand the whole time he led her out of the room, locked up and left the building. She only let go when they had crossed the small parking lot behind the school and reached Baby. She had made a comment or two about what a waste of gas it was that he drove to school when he could easily walk the few blocks over here. He brushed the words off with a brief justification of having to carry supplies and the fact that he loved his damn car and would drive it as much as he pleased. She had rolled her eyes at his but smiled all the same. She stood, shivering in the early December snow, and waited as Dean tenderly cleared the ice and snow from Baby before starting her up and opening the passenger side door for her. She thanked him and mumbled something about understanding his love for the car now, Dean was sure he heard "Baby is beautiful" somewhere in her muttering and he swore he could marry her right then. But, he supposed, that was a bit premature.

When they were both cozily settled in Y/N spoke again, "Are you sure about this? Don't feel like you have to. I'm a big girl, I can handle it."

Dean laughed and put his hand on the back of her seat, resting his arm across the space between them, "I'm sure. It's really no big deal, and it's perfectly reasonable for you not want to be alone. Remember, I offered as you asked, so no part of this is me feeling like I can't say no to you."

She breathed out and looked a little relieved as he said that, "Ok. Well. Thank you, really. It means a lot."

Dean nodded and put Baby into gear.

The ride, as short as it was, passed in a comfortable silence. Dean rolled up to his building and left the car running, promising Y/N he'd only be a minute and rolling his eyes with a smile when she whined about not being able to see his place. He held back a comment about her being more than welcome to drop by anytime, day or night, fearing that he might ruin the bond they had been cultivating so well.

Dean was back down to Baby in roughly seven minutes and succeeded in scaring Y/N by tapping on the window next to her face as she was clearly lost in her thoughts and hadn't noticed him come out the front doors.

When he got back in the car he received a light punch to the shoulder and a mild, unconvincing scolding.

The two sat in silence for a moment before Y/N spoke up again, "So, I suppose I owe you a whole pie after this. Maybe even two. Any requests?"

Dean let out a breathy laugh and looked over at the perfect woman sitting next to him, "Anything you make I'm sure I'll love."

She rolled her eyes, "Kiss ass."

At that moment, with her hair framing her face in such a way that it made Dean enraptured with her every feature, the soft glow of the street lamps lighting her up like an angel and the small, peaceful smile on her face, Dean swore she was the most radiant sight he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. He muttered a soft 'wow' and when Y/N turned her face back to him, the inquisitive look at his remark already forming on her face, he leaned forward and captured her lips in another kiss. She gasped slightly but quickly began kissing him back. He moved his hand to the side of her face and pulled away from her, his thumb moving in slow circles on her cheekbone.

She tilted her head to the side with a smile and giggled slightly, "Where did that come from?"

Dean took his hand back and shrugged, "It's hard to resist. You look absolutely radiant."

In the dim lighting, he could just barely see the blush that crossed her face and he sighed, feigning frustration, "See, how the hell am I supposed to refrain from showing affection when you're this adorable."

She laughed and blushed even more, "Shut the fuck up, Dean, you flirt."

Though she was joking, that sobered Dean up a bit. He furrowed his brows, "In all seriousness, I am sorry. I shouldn't kiss you or anything after our agreement that now is probably a bad time. And just because you should want to kiss me too and not feel any obligation. So I am sorry, and I promise this is not a normal thing. I haven't ever met anyone as special as you before."

Y/N grew quiet and Dean felt himself beginning to panic. He hadn't meant to say all that. He probably sounded so creepy. Oh god, what if she just got out of the car and left?

She didn't, in fact, she started laughing, almost breathlessly, and smiled up at Dean. "I suppose I should make you aware of the fact that I pretty much constantly want to kiss you, that those plump pink lips of yours are so damn tempting and it's hard to resist. But I appreciate you attempting to respect my wishes. You're a good man, Dean."

Dean felt his heart soar and turned back to the road with a smile on his face, taking Baby out of park before holding out his hand for Y/N to take. She tentatively interlocked her fingers with his and he lifted their joint hands up to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of her hand, his eyes never leaving the road but his heart filling up with affection at his peripheral view of Y/N blushing and turning away. He used the short car ride to try and memorize the way her hand fit into his, how her delicate fingers perfectly accentuated his larger ones and how her palm fit snugly into his.

He eased Baby into Y/N's driveway and turned the key, leaving the two in a warm silence. Y/N sighed and shivered, looking out at the cold with wary eyes. It was snowing harder now, Dean could barely see the side door into the house and it wasn't more than ten feet away. Y/N turned back to him and, after apparently hyping herself up enough, opened the car door and sprinted to unlock the door to the house. Dean laughed to himself as he watched her fumble with her keys, freezing fingers struggling to find the lock with the low visibility. She finally managed to unlock the door and rushed inside, sticking her hand out of the doorway and gesturing for Dean to follow.

Dean rubbed his hands together to warm them up and bracing himself for the biting Chicago winds he was sure would hit him as soon as he opened the door.

Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, grabbed his overnight bag, and whipped the door open; shutting it as gently as he could, locking it, and full on sprinting to the house.

He busted through the door and found the red nosed, pink-cheeked woman laughing at him. He gave her a joking glare and set down his bag so he could take off his shoes. He looked up after untying his shoes to find Y/N staring down at him in a way he could only describe as lovingly and he suddenly wasn't cold anymore.

She moved out of the way so he could walk past her and into the house, calling out behind him, "The guest bedroom is upstairs across from S/N's room. Make yourself at home and then come back down here and we can order a pizza or something because my fridge is embarrassingly empty." Dean giggled, god since when did he giggle, and turned his head to raise his eyebrows at the woman. She threw her hands up in mock exasperation, "Hey, today was supposed to be grocery day." She shrugged and turned to lock the side door and Dean shook his head, laughing, and made his way upstairs.

Upon entering the guest bedroom, Dean shrugged off his coat and tossed it on the neatly made queen sized bed that sat in the middle of the room. He looked around, taking in the basic furniture and muted blue walls. It was a quaint and cozy room, very reflective of the calm air that Y/N seemed to bring with her most everywhere she went. He took a deep breath, taking in the faint scent of her that filled the room. She really was quite intoxicating. And apparently, she found his quite intoxicating as well. Very good news.

He closed the door and pulled off his shirt and pants, throwing on his sleeping sweatpants and a clean white t-shirt. Turning to the little mirror on the back of the door, he ran his fingers through his hair until he felt he looked sufficiently mussed up and casual. Satisfied, he nodded and opened the door, nearly running into Y/N who had apparently been just about to knock. Her face flushed crimson and Dean had to bite his lip to keep from either laughing or kissing her. Man, spending the night here was going to be a challenge. He raised an eyebrow at her, "I thought I was supposed to come join you downstairs after I got settled in?"

Y/N glanced to the side, avoiding eye contact, her face darkening a few shades, "Honestly, I was just getting a little creeped out on my own down there and figured I'd come up here and make up some bullshit reason on the fly as to why I was checking in on you after about three minutes. I realize now that I'm not the best at improvising."

Chortling, Dean responded, "That's valid. I was on my way down anyway as you can see."

Still avoiding eye contact, Y/N nodded.

Dean tried to bite back the smile that was growing on his face but couldn't stop himself. He was grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. "Hey," he said, drawing her eyes back to his, "How about we go order a pizza, I'm starving."

Y/N nodded again, this time with a small smile on her face, her blush almost completely diminished, "What do you like on your pizza, Dean?"

Shrugging, Dean responded, "Honestly, I'll eat anything right now. Pick whatever you're feeling."

Y/N grinned and grabbed her phone, dialing the nearest pizza place and ordering (Favorite Pizza Topping(s)). Dean smiled softly at the newfound happiness in the woman's face, it seemed like some her stress was fading away now that she had company.

The pizza arrived and the two ate it on the floor of the living room, not wanting to bother with plates. They talked between bites of pizza and swigs of beer, Y/N delving into detail about her previous relationship and her life before that, Dean telling her about Bobby and more about his relationship with his father. Before they knew it, it was night and they were out one pizza and a six pack of beers. Neither was even remotely drunk, but both felt a bit lighter and a tiny bit fuzzy, though whether it could be contributed to the small amount of alcohol they had consumed or the rapidly growing affection they held for each other was hard to tell. Y/N was the first to check the time, glancing down at her watch with a sigh, "It's getting pretty late, Dean. You and I should both be up early tomorrow. We should head to bed."

Dean's slightly less cognisant brain lept at hearing the words "we should head to bed" come out of Y/N's sweet lips but the rest of him knew it didn't mean what he would someday hope it would mean. He didn't just want to sleep with her in a sexual way, though there was a part of him that definitely really enthusiastically did want to sleep with her that way. It was just, he had found himself daydreaming of what it would be like to fall asleep with her in his arms, to cuddle and wake up in the morning with the sun shining on her angelic face and her hair fanned out over their pillows. He wanted to know what she would look like right after waking up, eyes half shut, voice raspy from disuse. He wanted to make her breakfast in bed, to make her smile every morning, to pepper her face with kisses until she giggled and pushed him away, to lay in bed and watch her as she slept or as she got up and began getting ready for the say. For some reason, he was sure she'd look absolutely adorable while brushing her teeth, maybe leaning over the sink in nothing but a pair of underwear and one of his shirts, hair a mess and toothpaste foaming around her mouth. It was a sight he longed to see, a life he longed to live. He was starting to think Sammy was right. Maybe she was his Jess. She was certainly making all the sappy shit Sam always said seem logical.

He was broken out of his thoughts by Y/N returning to the room, after apparently leaving it to take care of the trash. She laughed at him, still sitting on the ground, "Wow, three beers got you that out of it huh?"

Dean made a face, "Hey, I haven't had much alcohol in years, my tolerance isn't the highest anymore. I'm also absolutely fine, I was just thinking."

Y/N hummed in response, a mischevious twinkle in her eyes making it clear she didn't fully believe him. Dean was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to grab her in a bear hug and maybe tickle her or something until she admitted he wasn't even tipsy and she was teasing him over nothing.

He didn't do that. Instead, he stuck his tongue out at her and strode up the stairs. She followed a few steps behind him, shaking her head and chuckling softly to herself.

The two adults went through their nightly routines, working almost like a machine, maneuvering each other in the small bathroom with surprising ease, almost like they had been doing it for years.

They bid each other goodnight and left to their respective rooms. Dean started to take his pants off before hopping into bed, before realizing he was here to make Y/N feel safe and he probably wouldn't be much help against an angry alcoholic ex if he had no pants on. Slipping his sweats back on and sighing, he really did love sleeping pantsless, he slid under the covers and found a comfortable position in the bed. He lay there for awhile, a half hour maybe, unable to sleep, worrying that Y/N might be a bit uneasy in her room alone and knowing she might need some comfort. He waited about five more minutes before giving in to his worries and getting up. He opened his door and was two steps into the hallway when Y/N's door opened as well. She looked at him, surprise etched on her features. Wearing nothing but an oversized sweatshirt she fit exactly into Dean's domestic fantasies and he found himself at a loss for words. She blushed slightly, "Um... I was actually about to see if you were still awake... I... uh... I can't sleep."

Dean walked closer to her, "I kinda had a feeling that'd be the case, I was about to come check on you."

She smiled, her embarrassment clear, "I feel so childish, getting nervous about being alone in my room. The house is locked, the security system is on, and the man who scares me is most certainly still in police custody and violated my restraining order on him so he really can't come back. And somehow I'm still scared." She crossed her arms, rubbing them anxiously and looking away from Dean.

Dean thought for a moment before cautiously proposing an idea, "If you're really that uncomfortable, I could sleep on the floor of your room." She immediately began to protest but he held a hand up, "Shhh. It's not a problem, I moved around a ton as a kid and slept on so many motel floors I stopped keeping count. I'll be fine. Let me do this to make me feel better unless it makes you more uncomfortable."

Y/N took a slow breath, "I suppose that's fine, are you sure you want to do that?"

Dean grabbed her lightly by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him, "I promise, it's absolutely fine. Your comfort is the priority tonight. Let me help you."

Y/N nodded slowly and whispered a small thanks, walking back to her room and waiting for Dean in the doorway. Dean took a moment to memorize the sight in front of him, he wanted to be able to see it in his mind forever. How sweetly she was looking at him, standing in the doorway of a dark room where they were both going to sleep.

She looked at him quizzically, and he jolted into movement, following her through the threshold of the door and into the room he had only peeked in once before. In the dim lighting he couldn't make out any colors but he saw Y/N climb onto her relatively large bed and sit on the edge, feet dangling over the side. He walked over and stood in front of her. He tilted his head as he studied her expression, even in the dark he could see she was thinking about something.

"You look pensive." he almost whispered, unable to ruin the tranquility of the room by speaking at a normal volume, "What's on your mind?"

She smiled slightly at the question, responding at the same volume, "I was just thinking, it really is terribly unfair for me to make you sleep on the floor, no matter how used to it you may be." She paused, averting her eyes but clearly having more to say. Dean waited patiently for her to continue. "I was just thinking, maybe, if you wouldn't mind that is, you could just share my bed. It's big enough."

Dean's heart leapt into his throat. Such a challenging night. Damn. But there was no way he could say no to that, he didn't want to lie and say it made it uncomfortable because it most certainly didn't, and no person in their right mind would choose the floor over a heavenly looking bed with a beautiful woman in it. He responded quickly, hoping he didn't seem too eager, "That wouldn't make me uncomfortable at all. As long as you're fine with it then that sounds good to me."

Y/N smiled and Dean swore it was bright enough that the whole room got a little bit lighter. He grinned back at her and she shifted so she was on the far side of the bed, lightly patting the space next to her to beckon Dean into the bed. Dean happily obliged, climbing onto the bed and crawling up to sit next to her. They both scooted under the covers and turned on their sides, facing one another, content smiles decorating their faces.

Y/N opened her mouth and whispered to Dean, "Thank you." before leaning closer and giving him a soft kiss on the lips. Dean's eyes widened in shock but closed just as quickly as he melted into the kiss. Surely she meant it to be innocent and short but she held her lips on his for a bit longer than appropriate and when she pulled away, the sigh that escaped Dean's lips and the feeling of kissing him again was too much for her. She inched closer, wrapping her arms around Dean's neck and kissing him again, slowly but much deeper this time. Her body pressed up against Dean's and he could feel himself getting aroused already. His arms moved to her hips and he gasped when she nibbled at his lip, giving her entry to his mouth and deepening the kiss yet again. He had never expected her to be so dominant and he usually wasn't very submissive but he had to admit he was enjoying this far too much to even think about it for more than a split second. She pulled away to breathe and blushed, her dominant demeanor vanished as she whispered an apology, "I... I don't know what just came over me. I'm sorry. I don't mean to force myself on you."

Dean smiled at that, "Believe me, I wasn't complaining. In case you hadn't noticed, I've developed some pretty strong feelings for you."

She giggled and averted her gaze, "Yeah, I noticed. If you were wondering, the feeling is mutual."

Dean's smile grew at her words before he found himself becoming a bit more somber, "So, do you want to continue this then? Or would you like to take things a bit more slowly?"

Y/N thought for a moment, "Honestly? I know I should say I want to slow down, because I really would like to pursue a relationship with you, Dean, but... You're pretty damn irresistible and I don't know how I'll last a whole night next to you without finding out what you feel like inside me."

Dean felt the heat rising to his face and building in his groin at her words. Without hesitation, he pulled her into a fervent kiss, rough and fast and full of passion and arousal. She enthusiastically kissed him back, their mouths moving ferociously against each other, pants escaping them both as they explored each other's mouths with their tongues. Dean pulled away after a moment to pull off his own shirt while maneuvering himself on top of Y/N and watching as she lifted her oversized sweatshirt above her head. He marveled at the sight of her, dressed in nothing but her underwear, bare chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, her skin practically glowing, her face flushed and pupils blown out with attraction. She was beautiful. Grinning at the sight in front of him, he began sucking and nibbling down her neck. He ground himself into her and settled his mouth on the dip of her collarbone, biting her just enough to leave a bit of a mark and make her moan. Her moans and pants fueled him as he moved his way down her chest and to her soft, supple breasts. He took one nipple in his fingers and the other in his teeth, gently rolling each of them and earning a series of satisfying sounds from above him. He grinned and switched breasts, feeling Y/N shift underneath him and registering the ache of his throbbing erection.

He kissed a trail down her stomach and placed his fingers on her pussy, over her underwear. He could feel the warmth of her and how wet she was already and it only strengthened the ache he was feeling. He gently spread her legs, looking back at her for confirmation that this was ok, to which he received very enthusiastic nodding. He grinned again and slowly pulled her underwear off, teasing her by kissing up and down the inside of her thighs. She whined slightly and bucked her hips, causing him to laugh and give in. He licked around her pussy, tasting the juices that were already seeping out of her before using his tongue to flick her clit. She immediately bucked her hips again, shoving his face directly into her mound. He moaned at the feeling, enjoying the warmth and rapidly flicking his tongue in and out of her while her breath continued to speed up. She knotted her fingers in his hair pushing him down, practically begging him to finish her. He pulled away and she groaned, opening her eyes and giving him a pouty look. He smiled and pulled off his sweatpants, Her eyes widened at the sight of his bulge straining against his boxers and she sat up quickly. She crawled to the end of the bed, pulling Dean back to her and flipping him over so she was straddling him. The weight and heat of her bare flesh on top of him made him moan and grind his hips into hers, earning a noise of contentment from her as well.

She took his lips with her own and proceeded to grind herself down on him, gyrating her hips and making him moan into her mouth. She smirked and reached into the nightstand next to the bed without breaking the kiss. She pulled away, dragging her fingernails across his chest and stomach as she sat up, her heat directly on top of Dean's painfully hard cock. Looking awfully pleased with herself at the breathless and disheveled state Dean was in, she backed up and hooked her fingers under the band of his boxers, pulling them down gently. She looked up at him, eyes wide next to his bare cock. He bucked his hips at the sight, unable to speak but hoping his eyes were begging her enough that she would stop teasing and give him release. Her eyes told him it wasn't going to be that easy and the grin on her perfect lips had him reeling. He closed her eyes and felt the warmth of her tongue sliding up the length of his member, licking his tip ever so lightly and teasing him. His face must have betrayed how much he wanted her because he suddenly felt his entire length enveloped by the wet warmth of her mouth. He sighed and lifted his hips slightly. She sucked on the head of his dick while stroking the rest with her hand, the feeling making him blissful and fuzzy. He felt heat rising in his abdomen and knew he'd finish soon if she kept going. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, she pulled her mouth off of him with a wet 'pop'. He groaned and wriggled underneath her. She laughed airily before grabbing the condom that she had taken from the nightstand and ripping it open. She slid it down slowly and that feeling in itself had Dean's breath getting caught in his throat. She lifted her hips up and looked at Dean expectantly as if waiting for the go ahead. He let out a short breath of a laugh and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her down onto his length.

She gasped as he pushed inside her, her hands reaching out and landing on Dean's chest, nails digging into his flesh. He groaned and she started to bounce up and down, her beautiful breasts tantalizing him and her tight pussy clenching around his member. Dean matched her pace and she leaned down to capture his mouth in another kiss. Without breaking the kiss, Dean reached up and flipped her over, so that he was on top of her and could better watch her reactions in the light of the streetlamps from outside the window. He sped up, the bed rocking and the two of them breathing heavily in unison. She panted and pulled his body flush against hers, raking her fingers down his back as she reached her climax. She let out a deep breath and sighed, just as Dean felt himself orgasm. He slowly pumped in and out of her, riding out both of their climaxes.

Dean rolled off of Y/N, splaying his arms out wide and breathing heavily, "Damn. That was amazing."

She laughed and punched him lightly in the arm, "Yeah, it was. I'm gonna quick go to the bathroom, do you want some toilet paper to clean yourself up?"

Dean groaned, "No, I'll just come with you, I've got to pee anyway."

She giggled at that and rolled off of the bed, walking around to where Dean was and holding out a hand for him to grab. He shook his head from side to side lazily and grumbled before taking hold of her hand and being yanked out of the bed. She laughed at this and he gave her a small shove, smiling, and then followed her down the hall. They each took their turns cleaning themselves up and using the restroom before heading back to bed.

Under the sheets, Dean wrapped his arms around Y/N pulling her towards him so that they were spooning. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, relaxing and listening to each other's breathing. Before they both fell asleep, Dean whispered in Y/N's ear, "So, Ms. L/N, would you possibly like to join me for dinner one of these nights? As a date?"

Without opening her eyes, Y/N responded, "As a matter of fact, Mr. Winchester, I would love to."

Dean smiled into her hair, taking a few deep breaths and relishing the feeling and scent of home that emanated from the woman in his arms. That was the last blissful thought he registered before drifting off to sleep.

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 12 13 14

#kindergarten teacher dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #single mother reader #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #fanfiction #fanfic #female reader #x reader #reader insert

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bijouxcarys · 2 months

Text

𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐮𝐲 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

Masterlist

“𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝?” 𝐈 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

“Maria, I’ve told you a million times. Just give him a call,” Emma urged.

“I have called him, and it just keeps ringing and going to the dead tone, Emma!” I snapped.

“Don’t shout at me, I’m just trying to help you,” she retorted.

I clenched my fists, sinking onto the sofa and whining. Emma sat at her piano, browsing through her sheet music collection. She had patiently endured my complaints and paranoia for over an hour, and I couldn’t fathom how she put up with me. It had been five long days since I last spoke to Brian, and I couldn’t figure out why. Through my rambling, I concluded that it was because I left his place without a word. I knew anyone would be annoyed by that, and I felt like a terrible person. The work experience I was supposed to do with the boys had completely slipped my mind, and I hadn’t touched my study notes all week. It was only when I noticed that October was almost over that I realised I had pushed away the only guy I ever genuinely liked, or trusted. Happy Halloween, Maria, you’ve successfully avoided him.

“I’m sorry. I’m just scared that I messed up,” I admitted, resting my head in my hand.

“Well, you won’t know if you’ve done something wrong unless you talk to him. So ask him, and then you can stop worrying,” Emma reassured me with a smile. “They’re at that new place tonight, right?”

My eyes widened, and I turned to look at Emma. “Yeah, they are,” I confirmed. “I can go and see him without seeming too desperate.”

“But you are desperate…”

“Thanks, Emma,” I rolled my eyes, getting up to find something to wear for the evening. Too many, yet not enough, options. I quickly decided that it didn’t matter what I wore that night, considering the nature of the conversation I was about to have with Brian. If he couldn’t accept me for who I was, then it showed that I shouldn’t care if he was mad at me.

Instead of obsessing over my appearance, I spent the time Emma and I would have spent studying in the library going through my notes. The exams were still months away, but it never hurt to start early.

However, my newfound confidence was quickly overshadowed by anxiety when my mother, of all people, decided to call me for the first time in two weeks. Clearly, her concern for my well-being was indelible.

Being on the phone with a woman who had forty-three years of life experience made me wonder if my mum could actually give me dating advice, or insight into guys. It felt a bit late to be discussing these things at the age of twenty-two, especially when all my friends had those conversations at fifteen, but it was worth a shot. After all, she was my mother.

“Mum?” I interrupted her story about gardening with Dad all morning. There was a silence on the other end, so I continued. “Can I ask your opinion on something?”

“Of course, sweetheart, you can ask me anything,” she replied.

I took a deep breath, leaning against the wall. “Well…” I began, trying to articulate my situation. “There’s this guy… at uni. We’ve been getting really close—”

“Maria, I don’t want any boys around you,” she interjected. Here we go.

“Mum, I’m twenty-two,” I exhaled with exasperation. “I just want your advice on something.”

“Carry on then, I haven’t got all day.”

“I stayed at his place on Saturday night, and… I left without saying anything in the morning. I feel really bad about it. I really like him, Mum, but he hasn’t called me since then, and I’m scared to call him because I think I messed it up. I feel like I’ve upset him, and I don’t know what to do. His band is playing somewhere tonight, and I don’t know if I should go see him or if that will make me look desperate,” I poured out in one breath.

There was no response from my mother. I glanced at the phone to check if I’d accidentally pulled the cord out of the receiver or something, but I hadn’t.

“Mum?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

“…Have you had sex with him, Maria?” Her voice had a hint of sternness, but it was clear she hadn’t listened to a word I had said. I furrowed my eyebrows further, leaning back against the wall, feeling a sting of tears welling up.

“No… I haven’t,” I replied softly, my voice once again falling into its subordinate tone in our mother-daughter relationship.

“Good. Keep it that way. You can never trust boys in a band, anyway, especially those who don’t call you back.”

“But that’s not what I wanted to ask you.”

“Now, sweetheart, I just want you to be happy, and I truly believe this is the best thing for you. Trust me, Maria Brennan, don’t question it,” my mother’s voice came through the phone, carrying a mix of reassurance and urgency. “Your father and I have to go pick up a new chair for the conservatory. Talk to you later, sweetheart.” The line abruptly went silent, leaving me frustrated and restless.

Fury coursed through me as I clenched my jaw and slammed the phone back onto the wall. I spun around, only to find Emma standing there, wearing an unsatisfied expression. She had seen this scenario play out before, at least one similar.

“You have to stop asking her for advice, Maria. It always ends up like this,” Emma admonished, her words laced with exasperation. I crossed my arms defensively, shifting gaze sideways.

“What did she say?” Emma inquired, her voice filled with curiosity and concern.

“She said I can’t trust boys in a band,” I replied, rolling my eyes in disbelief. I made my way back to the bedroom, feeling a mix of irritation and confusion.

“Are you still planning to go to The Britannia to see him?” Emma’s voice trailed behind me, causing me to pause and contemplate whether it would be a wise decision. After all, he hadn’t called me, suggesting that he didn’t want to talk to me.

I turned my head, addressing Emma from the side, my words stumbling and uncertain, but from the heart.

“Of course I am.”

I arrived at the pub too late for their actual show. The thought of sitting there alone, listening to them play for an hour while risking Brian seeing me and questioning my presence, felt unbearable. The prolonged exposure only meant more opportunities for rejection.

I took shelter at the bar, purposefully keeping a low profile during the remaining ten minutes of Queen’s performance. Nonetheless, I couldn’t resist stealing a few glances towards the front of the pub, taking in Brian’s appearance. He looked incredibly attractive, leaving me perplexed as to why anyone wouldn’t find him appealing. It wasn’t just his looks; he possessed a genuine sweetness, one of the most grounded individuals I had ever encountered. Any girl would be captivated by such sensitivity.

When my infatuation momentarily subsided, their performance came to an end, and the began making their way to the back. That’s when my nerves kicked in. I navigated through the growing crowd of fans, my mind inundated with various scenarios. What if he’s with another girl right now? What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he discovered I wasn’t someone easily swayed and that’s why he hasn’t reached out? Can I truly trust a boy in a band?

It was too late to turn back and abandon the entire endeavour as the night air sent a chill down my ankles. Chewing on my lip anxiously, my gaze settled on Roger’s car, where the guys, along with Mary, were gathered, enjoying their drinks. Taking a deep breath, I mustered the courage to approach them, my heart pounding against my ribcage. Brian happened to be the only one facing away, which only heightened my nervousness when Roger spotted me.

“Ah, you’ve made up already?” Roger exclaimed, his words slightly slurred. A puzzled Brian turned in the direction of Roger’s voice. Our eyes met, and the awkward atmosphere settled in almost instantly. My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t recall what I had planned to say once I reached him. I managed a small smile, but before I could utter a word, Freddie swooped in, enveloping me in a massive hug.

“Maria, darling! I knew you couldn’t resist!” Freddie exclaimed, flashing me a toothy grin. He glanced at Brian, who observed the situation with apparent confusion. “Oh, I didn’t introduce you to Mary last time, did I? How rude of me!” With that, he took my hand and guided me towards Mary, who stood beside another girl with orange hair and a fringe. “Mary, darling!”

Mary looked up, revealing her stunning blue eyes and cascading blonde hair. “Hello!” she greeted, leaning in to plant a welcoming peck on my cheek. “You must be Maria.”

“Yes,” I nodded, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh, sorry, dear. Freddie tends to update me on everything,” Mary whispered, casting a glance at Brian. She smiled at me, then turned her attention back to the girl by her side. “This is Patty.”

Patty offered me an awkward smile and extended her hand for a shake, to which I obliged. “Hi,” she greeted, seeming somewhat reserved or unsure, as her words remained sparse.

“She’s more talkative once you get to know her, darling. Or when she’s had a few drinks,” Freddie interjected, emphasising Patty’s fondness for alcohol. “She works with Mary.”

Curious, I turned to Mary. “Where do you work?”

“I’m at Biba. What can I say? I love fashion,” Mary replied.

“I can tell,” I smiled, admiring her impeccable style. “You have great taste.”

“Thank you! I hope you’ll visit sometime. We’re having a sale soon—get more for your money,” Mary grinned, hoping her sales assistant skills would pay off.

I stole a glance at Freddie, a giggle escaping my lips. “Yeah… I’ll see if I can make time. Well, I won’t stay for long, I uh…” My words stumbled, my eyes darting over to Brian. “I just need to talk to Brian…” I took a shaky breath, trying to avoid direct eye contact with him, but my curiosity got the better of me.

“Of course, darling! Take all the time you need with him,” Freddie replied, stepping aside and gesturing towards the guitarist, his grip tightly clutching his beer can.

Reluctantly, Brian pulled away from Roger’s car, his lip caught between his teeth as he walked past me, indicating for me to follow. I did, stealing a quick glance back at the others, who watched us with knowing smiles on their faces.

Brian and I stopped in front of The Britannia, where cars whizzed by and unfamiliar faces bustled past. This part of Kensington was significantly louder and busier compared to the tranquil location of The King’s Head. I positioned myself with my back against the wall, while Brian stood facing me. There was a brief moment of silence, the only sounds being the cacophony of our surroundings. People stumbled out of the pub, drunk and laughing, leaning on each other, while others entered. It was time to break the silence, but it seemed like Brian had the same idea.

“You look gre—”

“Are you angry at me?” I blurted out, crossing my arms and gazing at his face as confusion and a hint of hurt flashed across his features.

“Maria… Of course I’m not angry at you. Why would I be angry at you?” He took a step closer, his beautiful hazel eyes meeting mine. With just a single look, he had the power to weaken my knees.

“I just… I don’t know,” I whined, leaning my head back against the wall. “You didn’t call me or talk to me, and it felt… different from how you usually are. And I kind of left without telling you where I was going…” I shrugged, feeling a tinge of embarrassment. Now that I had put things into perspective, I realised that I had let my anxiety get the best of me.

“I thought you were angry at me,” Brian said in a monotonous tone, shrugging his shoulders.

“What?” I asked, tilting my head forward to meet his gaze. “Why?”

“Well… I thought you left because of… you know…” His cheeks flushed a light pink, and he glanced away.

“Because of what?” I prodded, fully aware of what he was referring to. But I needed him to acknowledge it so we could address it openly and not tiptoe around the subject.

“Because of when I… kissed you—You know what, I know it was the wrong thing to do, and I’m sorry for putting you in that situation,” he confessed, his distress evident as he ran his hand through his curly hair.

Swiftly dismissing his words, I shook my head vigorously. “Brian, don’t apologise for that. It didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything. Honestly, I don’t even remember it happening. But when I saw my lipstick on you when I woke up, the thought of it… well, I liked the thought,” I admitted with a soft smile, shrugging my shoulders.

In response to my words, Brian returned my soft smile and reached out, taking my hand in his. “You know… I’ve been doing some thinking,” he began, his gaze shifting to our intertwined hands, his thumb gently tracing over my knuckles. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I haven’t been entirely honest about.”

Raising an eyebrow, I allowed Brian to hold my hand as I encouraged him to continue. “Go on…”

“Well, it might sound silly, and maybe you don’t feel the same way. But…” He took a deep breath, locking eyes with me. “I really like you. You’re intelligent, kind, adorable, and you make me smile whenever you’re around. And I really like that.”

“This isn’t how I expected tonight to go, I’ll admit,” I exhaled, slightly taken aback by Brian’s confession. “But I’m not surprised either,” I whispered in a hushed tone, causing a smile to grace Brian’s lips. “You’re alright, poodle head,” I nodded.

Brian shook his head, his grip on my hand tightening. He didn’t seem to seek a reciprocal compliment or assurance that I felt the same way. He simply needed to express his feelings, and I’d be dishonest if I said I didn’t share those sentiments.

“So, are you going to reveal your little secret?” Brian mumbled, stepping closer to me, leaving minimal space between us.

“What, that I feel the same way?” I smirked, searching for a reaction in his eyes. Although I suspected that that wasn’t the response he was anticipating.

“N-no… But it’s good to know that,” he smiled, a light chuckle escaping his lips. “No, I mean your secret secret.”

“My secret secret?” I raised an eyebrow, perplexed. Brian furrowed his brow, mirroring my confusion.

That’s when his gaze shifted to my hand, and he gently lifted it, his other hand reaching for my sleeve to push it up. I attempted to stop him, my hand instinctively reaching for his, but he gave me a serious look at made mine drop back to its original position. Brian pulled up my sleeve, revealing years’ worth of scars.

I felt a deep sense of embarrassment. Until that moment, I had never allowed anyone to witness my pain—or so I thought.

“How did you know…?” I whispered, avoiding eye contact once again.

“You showed me. On Saturday night,” he stated matter-of-factly, his gaze fixed on the scars. “You need someone to take care of you,” he added, lifting his eyes to meet mine, which were still fixated on the scars as if they belonged to someone else. Brian raised his free hand, gently tilting my chin to make me look at him. “I can be that someone.”

And just like that, a grin spread across my face, followed by an unexpected fit of giggles. Brian looked at me, confusion etched on his features. “What’s so funny?”

I paused, gazing at him with a mixture of amusement and affection. “You’re such a cliché,” I remarked playfully.

“I know,” he shrugged, enveloping me in a hug that instantly warmed my heart. Brian was tall and slender, with hardly any meat on his bones, yet somehow his embrace made me feel shielded and protected, as if nothing could touch me. I felt safe in his arms.

I revelled in the hug, savouring the minutes that stretched on endlessly. It never grew awkward, nor did it become too silent or invasive. It was simply nice.

“Maria?” I felt his chin shift against the top of my head.

“Hmm?” I murmured, my voice muffled by his chest.

“This is where I hugged you when you had a panic attack,” he whispered, and I could sense the smile in his voice as he buried his face in my hair.

“My God, you really are a cliché,” I chuckled, my laughter resonating against his chest as the embrace continued.

But despite his clichéd nature and his tendency to apologise for the smallest things, Brian remained an intriguing and extraordinary person in my eyes. And in that moment, I realised it wholeheartedly.

Fuck the work experience. Let’s have some fun.

“I’m really glad we’re doing this,” I said with a bright smile, bringing the steaming mug of black coffee to my lips as I sat across from Emma at the small café on Imperial’s campus.

“Me too, it feels like forever since we’ve actually hung out together,” Emma agreed, stirring her coffee with a spoon.

“Yeah, there’s been so much going on lately, you know? With the boys around and all the assignments due,” I replied, trailing off as I tried to take a sip without burning my tongue.

We had chosen to sit outside the café, enjoying the November ambiance as we watched the leaves from September soak in the aftermath of an overnight rainfall, accompanied by a refreshing chill in the air. Early morning students hurried past us, wrapped in their parka coats and hats. We rarely ventured out so early before lectures, but that morning we wanted to carve out some quality time together, knowing that Emma would likely be whisked away by Roger at some point during the day, only to return when I was fast asleep.

“Did you talk to Brian?” Emma asked, effortlessly sipping her coffee.

“Yeah…” I couldn’t help but let a smile spread across my lips as I thought about the events of a few nights ago. “Everything’s… alright. We’re doing alright,” I nodded.

“Did he teach you their song puns or something?” Emma laughed, shaking her head.

“No,” I joined in the laughter, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “The good thing is, he’s actually called me and talked to me since then. So I must have done something right!”

“Have you mentioned it to…” Emma’s voice trailed off as she gestured with her hand.

“No,” I quickly interjected. “There’s no need for her to know every detail of my life. Yes, she’s my mum, but I’m also twenty-two years old. I don’t need her interfering the way she does,” I tutted, still hurt by her previous words. “Anyway… how’s Roger?”

“Distant. Really distant,” Emma replied, a slight frown forming on her face. “We haven’t really talked much, except for, you know…” I couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in my best friend’s eyes, but I also couldn’t believe she was feeling this way.

“Oh, Emma…” I started, reaching out to hold her hand. “What’s going on? I thought everything was great between you two,” I whispered, trying not to draw attention to our conversation.

“I don’t know what’s happening. He’s just not really talking to me. It feels like the only time he sees me as a real person is when we’re shagging. I’m getting really frustrated with him, but I don’t know what the hell to say,” she expressed her agitation, and I gently squeezed her hand to calm her down, a trick that always worked.

“You have every right to be angry with him, hun,” I spoke assertively and reassuringly. “I mean, has he even clarified that you two are in a committed relationship?”

Emma’s gaze drifted away, the frown deepening before she let out a reluctant sigh. “No,” she whispered, barely audible. “He hasn’t.”

I sighed in response, my brows furrowing as I leaned back in my chair. “Emma, you need to do something about this. You can’t keep letting yourself down like this. Or…” I glanced to the side, contemplating. “Maybe it’s nothing. I’ve heard rumours that he’s dropping out of Imperial, so maybe he’s under a lot of stress—”

“He’s dropping out?” Emma interrupted, her voice filled with surprise and concern.

“I’m not sure, that’s just something I heard. Brian mentioned it, but he was pretty drunk, so I can’t be one-hundred percent certain.”

Emma nervously chewed on her lip, her gaze fixed on her coffee, which had likely turned lukewarm by now. “Yeah…” she nodded slowly. “It’s probably nothing. It’s only been a couple of days, after all.” She tried to reassure herself with a smile.

“A couple of days? Emma, that’s hardly any time at all! You have nothing to worry about, trust me. I can see how much Roger likes you. Don’t let your own doubts overshadow something that could truly be wonderful,” I reassured her, my voice filled with conviction.

Emma looked up at me, her eyes regaining that familiar sparkle that never seemed to fade. “I knew there was a reason I kept you as my best friend,” she said, her smile growing brighter.

“A bonfire party. Seriously, Emma?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice down as Professor Ross continued with his lecture.

“Why not?” she whispered back, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Emma, I haven’t had a bonfire party since I was thirteen, and we nearly set the dog on fire. It’s not exactly my area of expertise,” I muttered, keeping my focus on the front of the room and attempting to appear innocent.

“Why does it have to be your expertise to have one? I didn’t know throwing a bonfire party required specialised skills. Come on, it’ll be fun,” Emma nudged me, a mischievous grin on her face.

“And where exactly do you propose we have this bonfire party?” I scoffed, glancing down at my book and scribbling down some notes.

“At our flat,” she replied, her eyes filled with anticipation.

I froze and put down my pencil, finally looking at her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t fireworks and bonfires generally require, you know, being outside?”

“Yes, I’m not an idiot. Mia is staying with her family while she’s on maternity leave, so we’ll have the garden all to ourselves. That is, if no one else snatches it up before us.”

“Mia… Remind me who she is again?” I asked, trying to place the name.

“Ground floor, ginger, really pale,” Emma reminded me.

“Ah, right, I remember now,” I nodded, returning to my notes. “It’s not a bad idea. But why are you suddenly suggesting this? You’ve never been interested in doing something like this before.”

“So I can have a proper talk with Roger about everything, and so you can spend some quality time with your ‘lover boy’ without alcohol or work getting in the way,” she explained a satisfied look on her face as she went back to writing her own notes.

Before I could utter a word, a faint knock echoed through the lecture room’s door. Professor Ross halted mid-sentence, making his way over to the door without diverting his gaze from the chalkboard.

“Yes?” he responded, his tone indifferent, as if he spoke to everyone based on his current mood rather than who was outside.

“Uhm, is this Professor Ross’ room?” I heard a muffled voice from the other side, unable to see the person behind it. “I’ve just moved here, and they told me this was the room.” The voice carried a distinct accent, but I couldn’t quite discern whether it was American or of another origin.

Professor Ross cast a quizzical look at the newcomer, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you must be the exchange student. You’re late. Find a seat towards the back; that’s where the empty ones are. I’ll catch you up later.”

In walked a tall young man, sporting tousled blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He donned a turtleneck jumper, flared jeans, and the latest Adidas releases. Navigating through the sea of curious gazes, he settled on the table next to Emma and me. Did we truly appear to be the only approachable individuals in the entire class?

He flashed us a quick smile before taking his seat, as Professor Ross resumed his lecture. Emma leaned towards him, seeking to strike up a conversation.

“Hi,” she whispered, capturing his attention.

He glanced at her and whispered back, “Hello,” his voice tinged with a hint of reticence.

“Where are you from?” Emma asked, exhibiting her trademark bluntness.

“Switzerland,” he replied simply, studying us intently. “I know my accent may sound a bit… American? Most of us do sound that way.”

“Ah, right. I’m Emma,” she introduced herself, extending her hand across me. He reciprocated the gesture, offering a friendly handshake. “And this is Maria.”

“I’m Cameron. Nice to meet you,” he nodded, gracing us with another smile. Leaning in slightly, his voice lowered. “Is he always this moody?” He gestured discreetly towards Professor Ross.

“Yes,” I answered, a hint of resignation in my voice. “Always.”

“Great. Maybe I should have stayed in Switzerland,” Cameron murmured, a touch of wry humour lacing his words.

The library was unusually quiet that day, with the hushed whispers of students and the occasional sound of turning pages filling the air. Emma had decided to head home for some piano practice during my study break, thinking she had a better chance at acing her exams than I did. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy, knowing I’d be lucky if I scraped by with a passing grade.

My mind struggled to comprehend the intricacies of management theory, and as I flipped through the pages of my textbook, I found myself stuck on page two-hundred-and-eighty-one, still grappling with the whys and hows of the industry. Desperately hoping for a breakthrough, I turned to the next page, only to be greeted with disappointment and frustration. The next two pages were missing, torn out by someone else who seemed to share my struggles.

Clutching my jaw tightly, I took a deep breath and slammed the book down beside me on the cosy sofa. I leaned back, slapping my hands over my face in exasperation. No matter how hard I tried, something always seemed to impede my path, making life unnecessarily difficult. Even a simple missing page felt like a significant obstacle standing in my way.

Suddenly, I felt the sofa next to me sink down, causing my body to tilt to one side. Startled, I kept my hands pressed against my face, feeling annoyance and disappointment course through me.

“Having a tough day, love?” The voice was so familiar, instantly recognisable. It would be foolish not to know who it belonged to.

Finally, I lowered my hands and was met with Brian’s concerned gaze. He had a stack of papers and a book in his hands, which he set down beside him. My heart fluttered at the sight of him, those butterflies swirling and dancing within me.

“What’s up?” His eyes locked with mine, brimming with both sympathy and genuine interest.

“I’m just…” I leaned my head back against the sofa, gazing up at the ceiling. “I’m trying so fucking hard to grasp with fucking topic, but the page I need is missing from the fucking book. I’m going to fail, and it’s fucking frustrating.” I closed my eyes, letting out a soft whimper of distress.

“Love, any more fucks and you’ll earn yourself quite the reputation,” Brian chuckled, his laughter sending a fresh wave of butterflies fluttering within me. “Let me take a look.”

I let out a sigh of relief and handed him the weighty book, still open to the page I had been struggling with. As he focused on the pages, his hazel eyes danced over the ink-splattered paper below, his mouth slightly ajar in concentration. I took this opportunity to observe him fully. Even his teeth seemed to possess a certain sharpness that I hadn’t noticed before. His bony knees peeked out from beneath his grey flared trousers, revealing the delicate structure of his kneecaps and cartilage. His tight white shirt, with its buttons undone, hugged his frame, the sleeves rolling just below his elbows. And his hair… I found myself gazing at his hair for what felt like an eternity. Each curl was meticulously placed, not a strand out of line. It framed his face perfectly, accentuating his godlike bone structure. In that moment, it hit me like a ton of bricks—he was the embodiment of perfection, and it had taken me until now to truly realise it.

“Maria…?” he finally spoke, his eyes still scanning the pages.

“Hmm?” I replied, still in a semi-trance.

“Have you checked the back page?” He glanced up at me, causing me to snap out of my daze, fearing he might have caught me staring. I took the book from his hands, noticing a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

“Why would I check the back page?” I tried to brush off the embarrassment of being caught gawking at him.

“Because that’s where people often put pages that have been accidentally ripped out,” he replied, turning around to retrieve his stack of papers, placing them on his lap.

“Don’t be silly. They’d just staple it back in—Oh…” My frown deepened as I saw that he was right. Those two missing pages were indeed slipped into the back of the book by the previous borrower. “Thanks…” I glanced up at him, feeling a mix of gratitude and slight embarrassment.

“Not a problem.” He smiled, leaning back and opening the papers, grabbing a red pen. He also opened a book beside him, shifting his gaze between the book and the papers, making corrections in red ink.

“What are you doing?” I asked, scrunching my eyebrows in curiosity.

“Huh?” he responded, momentarily distracted. “Oh, this?” He looked down at the papers, scratching his chin. “Well, I do some part-time teaching for year nines to earn some extra money. I have a load of tests to mark.” He offered me a small smile. “Being an aspiring rockstar doesn’t pay the bills.”

“Not yet,” I playfully nudged him, causing a faint blush to colour his cheeks. “But, wow, teaching? I can barely tolerate my own brother, let alone a whole class of high schoolers,” I stifled a chuckle, glancing down at my book.

“It’s not so bad once you get the hang of it. They tend to pay more attention when they find out their teacher plays the guitar in a rock band,” he chuckled, continuing to mark the papers. “You have a brother?”

“I do,” I replied matter-of-factly. “The most annoying fourteen-year-old on the planet. Do I like him? Not really. Do I love him? Of course. But do I tolerate him when I have to? Absolutely.”

“I wish I had a brother or sister growing up. It was always a bit lonely as a child. But then again, it gave me more time to practice music and stargazing,” Brian mused, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

“Stargazing takes practice?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at him curiously. His eyes widened in response.

“Naturally,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world “You have to know the angles at which to look to spot different constellations. For example, a Cancer must know the right angle to view their constellation.”

“You’re a Cancer. That explains a lot,” I nodded knowingly.

“Yeah? How so?” he inquired.

“You’re compassionate and very optimistic, basic traits of a Cancer,” I explained.

“You believe in astrology?” he asked, sounding somewhat surprised.

“Don’t be surprised. Sometimes I have no other option but to rely on fate and whether or not it’s written in the stars. Gives me something to believe in, and religion doesn’t quite do it for me,” I replied.

“And you are a…?” he trailed off, waiting for my answer.

“Pisces,” I replied.

“Ahh…” Brian chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

“What?” I asked, mirroring his chuckle in curiosity.

“Nothing, love,” he finally looked up at me, leaning closer until our faces were just inches apart. “It’s just that you’re a sensitive little kitten, aren’t you?” He smirked playfully, seemingly unaware of the effect his closeness had on me.

“You seem to have it all figured out,” I whispered, unable to tear my gaze away from his lips. In that moment, they looked so incredibly inviting, until he pulled away.

“I definitely do, Maria,” he smiled innocently, returning his focus to the papers he was marking.

An hour passed, and my eyes were on the verge of exhaustion. Brian had subtly shifted our positions so that I was comfortably reclined against him, his arm wrapped around me. It felt incredibly comforting and made studying much less stressful and more bearable.

It became increasingly clear to me that Brian’s sensitivity and shyness were merely surface-level qualities that everyone saw. The more I got to know him, the more those layers peeled away, revealing a smooth-talking, irresistibly attractive man who still possessed a gentle and shy side. I just hoped that I was making the right decision in allowing him into my world.

“Brian?” I mumbled, my head resting against his bony collarbone.

“Hmm?” he responded, his voice filled with warmth.

“I was talking to Emma earlier. She suggested that we should have some kind of bonfire party. Like all of us—you, the boys, Mary, and Emma’s sister,” I looked up at him with anticipation.

His gaze shifted around, his eyes darting nervously before he strained his mouth into a compromised expression, nodding slowly. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, love. Do you want to do that?”

“It’d be nice, I guess. It just isn’t my scene, though. I think fireworks are a bit… loud. Too loud. They set my anxiety off. But I still would love to see all of you.”

“Aww…” Brian cooed, lowering himself to plant a tender kiss on my hair. “Don’t worry. If the fireworks get too much for you, I’ll protect you.” He whispered, chuckling softly, and tightened his arm around me.

“Cliché, once again,” I rolled my eyes playfully. “But there’s another thing, Bri…” His eyebrows raised slightly when I called him by his nickname, but it felt so natural in our conversation that neither of us brought it up. “Is Roger okay?”

Brian’s relaxed face turned uncomfortable, and he nervously bit his lip. I furrowed my eyebrows, sitting up and turning to face him directly. “Brian?”

“He’s, uh… He’s fine. Been feeling a little stressed, I think.”

“Is it true that he’s dropping out?”

“Yeah, but… That’s not what’s stressing him out.” He glanced at me briefly before lowering his gaze to his papers, his expression blank.

“Then what is it? Emma is getting upset with him for not talking to her, and she’s getting stressed out herself. It’s hard seeing her like that, and—”

“He slept with someone else.”

I’m sorry, what?

With a sudden surge of anger, I propelled myself up from my previous position, no longer leaning on Brian at all. My brows knitted together in a display of pure rage, and Brian’s eyes widened in response, clearly taken aback. “I’m sorry, come again?” My voice rose sharply, further escalating Brian’s concern.

“Love, calm down, okay?” Brian leaned forward, his hands raised in a gesture of placation. “I-It’s… It’s normal.”

“Normal?!” I bellowed, my hand instinctively lashing out, narrowly missing Brian’s face. “How can that be a normal fucking thing to do? He’s literally cheated on my best friend! This is not okay!”

“Maria, please.” Brian pleaded, gripping my wrist tightly and drawing it closer to him. “Please, just listen to me.” He locked his gaze with mine, his eyes pleading for understanding. “Roger cannot control himself.” His voice quivered slightly as he took a shaky breath, his gaze momentarily dropping to our intertwined fingers. “It’s extremely rare for Roger to even give a woman a second look. It most likely meant absolutely nothing. Okay?”

“So… Am I just supposed to keep this from Emma then?” I asked, my voice laced with scepticism.

“Yes! Please… You cannot tell her a single word,” Brian’s voice lowered to a whisper, his head leaning closer to mine. “Promise me. Promise me, you won’t tell her about this.”

I scoffed, shaking my head and momentarily averting my gaze.

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meganskane · 3 years

Text

In The End

masterlist

summary: after doing some thinking reader decides that maybe being in a relationship with spencer isn’t what’s best for the both of them.

warnings: yanno the usual break up stuff…. like crying and sad stuff lol </3

word count: 1.6k

pairing: spencer reid x reader

A/N: SHES HERE!!!!! it’s literally been foreeeeeeever since i’ve come out with something and i did want to post something before college starts back up again…. it starts monday so i’m right on time lol …. anyway! i genuinely enjoyed this fic and i hope you all do too!!

She was nervous, that much had been obvious. Anyone would’ve been able to tell, whether it be the incessant pacing, nail picking, or tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Most people would’ve been delighted to have their boyfriend come home after not being able to see him, to talk to him, for weeks. Not her though. It wasn’t like she had a boyfriend that was terrible, he was amazing in almost every way possible. And it wasn’t like she no longer loved him because she did, she truly did.

Her mind had been on this constant spin, filled with the endless notion of how this conversation could go gnaw at her brain, the good, the bad. It all nearly caused her to miss the familiar sound of Spencer’s keys jingling in the lock. A sound she once adored now caused her breath to bitterly sit in her throat.

Y/N’s eyes quickly snapped in the entryway of the small apartment, painfully waiting to see the man she once longed for. “Hey” Spencer greeted, voice filled with exhaustion. She hadn’t even realized that she was holding her breath till she tried to speak. Even when she had it came out as no more than a whisper,

“Hi”

“I didn’t think you’d still be awake when I got in, I missed you. '' he softly spoke, it was clear that he was exhausted but still seemed to gather enough energy to flash the biggest smile in her direction because he was happy to see her. A soft groan left her lips, the guilt was unbearable.

Spencer cautiously began to walk closer in her direction, his eyebrows knit together. Clearly, he had been trying to piece together what could possibly be going on in her mind. After the long silence, he finally mustered up the courage to ask, “You okay?” Sure he studied human behavior but when it came to Y/N? Spencer was always so lost. Maybe it had been due to his naivety with women but in moments like this, every book textbook he’s ever read seemed to be futile. She was damn near impossible to read.

“Spencer, we need to talk. Now.” his eyes flicked over to her face before nodding to himself,

“Spencer? Wow okay, this is serious. What’s up?” he playfully joked, setting his bags down not quite putting his full attention on her as he began to strip off the layers he bundled himself with to try and tolerate Virginia’s winter air. “I miss you, I rarely get to see or speak to you anymore, and when I do get the chance it's for a minute. Before you’re off back to work.”

“I know, and I'm sorry it's just because they've been bringing in cases like crazy and can’t seem to find another team to take over them. I’ll be better with this, I promise.”

“No, you won’t. You’ve been telling me this for three months Spencer, and I just can't do it anymore. I can’t keep living my life like this” she sounded selfish, she surely felt like it. But once she started it seemed like she couldn’t stop, “I can't sit here lost and alone waiting for you”

“O-or that dreaded fear that lives in my head that you won’t make it back to me. That one of your friends is going to call me and say you were abducted again, in surgery or worse, dead! It’s not fair to me.” Spencer stared at the woman in front of him. She had been difficult to read most times but the look on her face? It would take a fool to not notice that look. She looked defeated. That much was noticeable.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared into her eyes, “This sounds like you're trying to say goodbye?” she silently began to pick at her nails, avoiding any sort of eye contact with him, and from the corner of her eye, she watched as his head snapped up in disbelief due to the lack of response on her end. That silence seemed to have spoken for itself, “What?! Y/N! No!” he screeched

“Spence come on, think about it. What’s the point in this if only one of us is willing to make it work?” That right there? Those five words just confirmed everything Spencer had feared. Y/N was done.

“I’m willing to fix it! I’ll be home more often, I-I can work full time as a professor. Consult on cases from home and spend more time with you! We could even get one of those dogs you’ve always wanted!” she was done but that didn’t mean he was, he wanted this, He wanted her and he wasn’t going to let this go without some sort of fight. He’s been waiting for a love like this for too long.

He didn’t want to do the whole get to know you talking all over again when he met her he thought he met his forever person. He was done and this was it for him.

“A Frenchie?” he eagerly nodded in response before continuing, “Yeah! Did you know that since French Bulldogs are so top-heavy and also brachycephalic, they can’t swim? That this type of vigilance is crucial around large bodies of water? So I guess that means no beach days for the little guy” he chuckled, reaching his hand out expecting her to lean into his touch like all the times she had done before.

But, that’s when she sighed, taking his hands into her own rubbing soothing circles against his veiny skin, “Sweetheart, as tempting as that is, I can’t ask you to do that for me. It’s not fair to you. The BAU is your entire life and it would be selfish of me to make you stop doing what you love.”

“Doing that alone would make you resent me forever, and I couldn’t live with myself having that in the back of my mind”

“But, I’m not ready to lose you” he desperately pleaded.

“You already have. I have been going back and forth with myself for weeks on this, you aren’t in the right place for a relationship and you know it,” I sighed ''Why continue to string me along?”

This is where they both stared at one another in silence watching as they both began to slowly become a wreck. Neither he nor she was sure when the tears began to flow and neither sure when they had ceased. “I still love you”

“I know you do, and I will always love you” that’s where she began to laugh. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows once again as he stared at her hoping for an explanation for the laughter. Luckily she hadn’t left him waiting for too long.

Once her laughter died down she looked at him with a slight smile, “God look at me! I sound like a corny breakup song” despite the situation they were facing he too couldn’t stop his lip from twitching into a smile and giggles began to erupt from them both. The laughter was short-lived and a comfortable silence fell between the two of them. Neither one of them was sure what to say or do next.

Spencer broke the silence with a final question, “But, now's not the right time?”

“Yeah, now just isn’t the time.” she assured, as she began softly wiping away the remaining tears that seemed to stain his pale skin. He’d be okay without her and she knew it. Spencer would find his happily ever after again someday, that much was certain. So, Y/N wasn't worried.

“Okay,” he nodded. There was that obvious disappointment that filled his voice but yet? He understood.

They both stood from their rightful spots Spencer took her hand into her own as they silently walked toward the front door. Spencer placed a soft kiss on her forehead as the realization dawned on him once more.

“Goodbye Spencer” he gave her a weak smile as she walked into the hall, away from him and into her new life.

They always say that sometimes you meet the right person but it's just not the right time. I never really understood the saying because I always liked to believe that it’ll always be the right time if it’s the right person. But, then she met Spencer, and now it all just made sense.

Spencer watched as Y/N descended from their his staircase waiting till she was out of his sight to close the door behind him. He aimlessly wandered to his sofa sitting in silence, a dull ache sat in his chest. He felt around his pocket looking for one thing in particular and once he found it he let out a painfilled sigh.

He opened the small box admiring the jewelry that sat in it, he had picked it up when visiting his mother during this last case. It was hers, a ring that had been in his family for generations and he planned on giving it to her.

The more he stared at the ring the more tears began to fill his eyes, he was alone once again. Everyone he once loved seemed to have abandoned him in some way, Y/N was just another added to the list. Just like that. Gone. When only an hour ago he and Derek were tossing around ideas of how and when he should propose to her.

“Won’t be needing this anymore” he mumbled to himself, setting the box down and laying back, his body feeling numb. They both said this was forever but, forever? It hadn’t been as long as he had hoped for.

taglist: @coldlilheart @emilyprsntiss @idonotexiste @takeyourleap-of-faith @lumosemily @winifrede @averyhotchner @reidingmelodies @spenxerslut @aayaissaa @reiding-recs @moderatelydelusional @iwouldburnupintheatmosphere @reidyoulikeabook @spookyspence @altsvu @spencersrose @xoxospencerreid @miraclesoflove @bxbyjjsupremacy @raegan-reid @bingereid

also tagging this angel bc she asked nicely when i mentioned i was writing this <3 : @everyonesfavoritepipecleaner

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#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #nati writes #breakup #breakup fics #cm #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x you

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siswritesyanderes · 3 years

Note

Ok but yandere carlise x reader x yandere esme

(Not as detailed as I’d hoped to make it, but I quickly realized that if I went into detail then this thing would become very long. Hopefully avoided making the characters too OOC. Let me know if you like it, and how I did!)

…

You first met Dr. Cullen when you spent the day volunteering at the local hospital for one of your college classes.

There was a whole group of students there to help out, and you honestly weren’t sure why he seemed to notice you in particular; it certainly wasn’t because you were doing such a great job. Your work speed, in restocking the closets, was roughly average, and you kept having to ask your fellow volunteers where things were supposed to go. Granted, you at least weren’t one of the students who was transparently doing the absolute bare minimum to get the credit, but you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a shining star of competence either.

Still, Dr. Cullen approached you personally to say, “Thank you for your help. You’re really doing us a great service.”

He was a beautiful man, with warm eyes that seemed to be beholding the goodness in your soul, for how amiably they glimmered.

“I don’t know if I can take any credit,” you said, admittedly flustered by the attention. “It was our teacher’s idea.”

He smiled kindly. “Nevertheless, we’re glad to have you here.”

You smiled back. “Glad to be here.” Then you continued working.

When Carlisle walked away from you, he carefully kept the reluctance from showing in his expression. He sent Esme a quick text warning her that they might have another soulmate in town: a human. His initial thought was that this would be the end of it; so long as Esme avoided meeting you, she wouldn’t feel the awful desperation currently clawing its way up Carlisle’s throat, and so long as Esme wasn’t suffering, Carlisle was confident in his own ability to let you live your own life, just as he had done with Esme, at first…

But then, he knew how that had turned out for her: years of pain, mistreatment…The thought of anything of the sort befalling you…The world was so dangerous, between humans and vampires and other such things, and you, so small in comparison, so vulnerable…

Carlisle regained his composure (though, to the untrained eye, he hadn’t lost it in the first place). The world could be dangerous, yes, but his awareness of that fact was informed, in no small part, by the fact that he wanted justification for keeping you. And he couldn’t give himself such license; it wouldn’t be right.

He wouldn’t drag you away from your human life.

Perhaps he could keep watch over you, and do you small favors every now and then, but that was the most he could afford to indulge.

He heard your stomach growl from across the room; he detoured to a vending machine and bought you a light snack. (Perfectly timed, Alice texted him your preference. No doubt, she was scouring the future to see how you might fit into it; he would have to have a talk with her, to be sure she didn’t go overboard. And deciding to have a talk with Alice functioned in the same way having a talk with Alice did.)

Dr. Cullen handed you a snack from the vending machine, which puzzled you at first; it didn’t seem like the hospital was handing out food to anyone else, and even if they were, why would one of the doctors take the time for such a thing?

He answered your unspoken question with a polite smile and the words, “You were looking a bit faint; I thought you might need this.”

Had you been looking unwell? You didn’t think you felt that bad, but a doctor would recognize the signs if something was wrong, and you were pretty hungry. “Thanks,” you said, and he dipped his head in your direction. Then he and his kind smile departed.

That wasn’t the last time you met Dr. Cullen.

Your paths crossed in all sorts of places: in the grocery store, he tapped you on the shoulder once to ask if you’d dropped a hundred dollar bill, and he urged you to keep it even once you’d told him it wasn’t yours; you saw him in your school’s science building, one day (He was there to speak to one of the professors, and he asked you if you had drunk any water recently.); and you even ran into him at the library. All incidents spaced out over weeks; not close enough together to really be coincidences worth thinking about. You figured that you had probably crossed paths just as much before meeting him, but only noticed now because you knew who he was.

Anyway, the two of you remained acquaintances. He was a nice man.

When someone slammed into your car, a few months later, he was the doctor who cared for you.

“A hit and run?” he murmured, tutting in displeasure as he moved a light across your eyes. “People should be more considerate, and careful with other people’s lives. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“They probably just made a mistake and were scared of the consequences,” you offered, because the doctor genuinely seemed somewhat upset. You were trying to assume the best about the other driver, because the alternative was getting angry about something you couldn’t change. You had barely even seen the car that had hit you. You just knew that it was some shade of yellow, and apparently much stronger than yours. “I wish we’d gotten to trade insurance information or something, though; my car is apparently totaled.” Despite your best efforts, your voice wavered.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Dr. Cullen said, and you were probably delirious, but something about the decisive way he said it made it seem, to you, as if he himself planned on helping you get your car fixed. “Follow the light with your eyes.”

You did.

“Have you...” The doctor seemed to choose his words carefully. “Have you called anyone, to let them know what happened, and that you’re alright?”

“No, I guess I haven’t. The ambulance got there so fast, I guess I didn’t have time to think about it.” You weren’t terribly concerned, though; if your relatives hadn’t been made aware of the crash, then they didn’t know to be worried yet. No need to call them now.

Dr. Cullen stilled at your words, though; the light in his hands shone in the spot between your eyes and did not move. It was as if he was deep in thought. No, as if he were at war with himself.

“Dr. Cullen?” you prompted.

He quickly smiled, setting down the light. “I think you should call them. Now, if you can. I would...just feel better if someone knew where you are, and that you’re alive.”

You called them (as awkward as that felt with the doctor right there in the room, patiently waiting), and Dr. Cullen seemed to relax.

Once you were released from the hospital, you went back to only seeing him every once in a while, around town.

Your car was mended seemingly overnight, under mysterious circumstances, and a part of you jokingly wondered if Dr. Cullen was some sort of fairy godmother, or guardian angel.

Then, another month after your accident, a stranger approached you while you were walking back from your last class of the evening.

“Hi,” the stranger greeted you, somewhat apologetically. She was shorter than you, with a lovely face and spiky black hair and a spritely disposition. “I’m Alice. I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry something to my car? It’s getting late, and I really don’t want to be here after dark.”

“Oh, sure,” you answered, feeling so at ease that you forgot every warning that would normally flood to your mind about the danger of following a stranger to her car. So at ease that your mind somehow just failed to observe the taller guy standing right next to Alice, well in your field of vision. You saw him, but you didn’t really think much of him.

You followed Alice to a bright yellow Porsche, and the shade of yellow stirred something in your memory, but you couldn’t say what; you were too busy looking for what you were supposed to be helping her lift.

A lovely woman with a long blond ponytail leaned against the car trunk, staring at something that she was holding in her hand, and there was a figure sitting inside the car, too; you couldn’t see them through the tinted windows, but you saw enough to be confused as to why you had been called here to help when it seemed Alice had many potential helpers, here.

Your panic, as you began to realize the ruse, had only just begun to climb when the blond woman suddenly moved, swift as a bird, behind you, and there was a hand over your mouth and a feeling like a pinch in the side of your neck.

The thing she was holding. It was a syringe.

The tall guy (the one you hadn’t thought much of, at first) moved to open the nearest door of the Porsche; he moved the passenger seat forward, to access the back row of seats.

“Wait, stop,” you slurred against the hand (the stunningly cold hand) over your mouth, as the woman who had syringed you began to maneuver you into the Porsche with surprising strength. You were already losing control of your limbs.

“This is officially the worst thing I’ve ever done,” the woman griped as she slid you carefully inside, then climbed in behind you. You were sandwiched between her and the person you’d seen through the tinted windows: a sulking young man with bronze hair. Four strangers total, and you were in the back seat of their car.

“Thank you, Rosalie, for your help,” Alice said resolutely. “Will you drive, Jazz?”

The tall one nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat while Alice occupied the passenger side.

You struggled to find your voice, or your fists, through the haze of sedative.

“It’s okay,” said the sulking young man at your side, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I’m able to hear you, even if you can’t speak. I can read minds.”

“The human is still awake?” Rosalie said.

“Not for much longer, but yes. You have time to apologize.”

“Sorry about all this,” Rosalie said, gently nudging your mouth closed (as it had fallen open). “Don’t be scared; we just…have to bring you to Carlisle and Esme. They’re pretty great people, and they’ll treat you really well. And these guys were going to do it anyway, so I had to come and make sure things went smoothly. Alice and Jasper can’t even administer a shot; they probably would have chloroformed you or something-”

“Wouldn’t’ve had to,” said the tall guy in the driver’s seat- Jasper, apparently. “Could’ve just lightly flicked the back of their head at the right angle. Provided Alice checked the future to make sure we did it right.”

“…and didn’t cause a concussion, or worse,” the bronze-haired one deadpanned.

There was a brief silence. You were sinking against the self-proclaimed mind reader, unable to support your own weight. You were about to sleep. You actually wanted to sleep.

“Don’t worry, Rose,” Jasper added. “I’ve made sure the human isn’t afraid.”

You supposed you weren’t. Why weren’t you?

You fell asleep before you could figure it out.

…

You awoke to the sound of agitated voices, outside the (closed) door of a bedroom that was not your own.

You were in a bed, and it was obscenely soft and pleasant, but it wasn’t yours, and you weren’t home.

Where am I?

You felt weak, and tired. Heavy, confused. But you had to stay awake, and regain your wits, because you had been taken somewhere, and you didn’t know where or why. There was a window across the room. It was nighttime outside the window. Maybe if you could make it over there, you could climb out and run for it, but you didn’t yet have the strength to even get the bedcovers off of you.

“Because it’s been awful to watch how badly it affects you to be away from your mate,” one of the voices outside the door was saying. “All five of us agreed, and we never agree on anything!”

“And it’s not like it wouldn’t have happened eventually,” another voice agreed. “Just like with Esme.”

“Exactly! You were only prolonging your own suffering, for no reason.”

There was a sigh, and a familiar voice said, “Are you all finished?” It was Dr. Cullen; that much you knew, even though you had never heard him sound so tired.

“We did it for you, because you deserve happiness.”

“And now that Esme has seen them, there is no way to undo it, is there?” Dr. Cullen asked rhetorically. “Edward, is the human awake?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bring some food up, Carlisle,” an entirely new voice suggested. “The children have been…underhanded, today, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t make the best of it.”

“It was for the best.” (Your head was clear enough, now, that you recognized this unabashed voice as belonging to Alice.) “You’ll see.”

Footsteps approached the door, and shortly a woman entered the room. She was soft-looking, with caramel brown hair, and she held a dinner plate in her hands.

“Good evening,” she said, soberly. Sitting on the edge of your bed while you struggled to sit up. “I’m so sorry the kids did this; we didn’t ask them to, but they thought they were doing us a service. I’m Esme Cullen, Dr. Cullen’s wife. Here: eat something.”

You ate a forkful of pasta only because it was too close to your mouth to refuse. “Why ‘m I here?” you asked hoarsely. “Take me home.” Another forkful slid into your mouth.

“I’m very sorry,” Esme said. “I’m so, so sorry, but you see…the trouble is…” Her eyes scanned over you, and she smiled a seemingly involuntary smile and didn’t finish her sentence. As if looking at you was simply a much better use of her time.

“I want to go home,” you said.

Esme sighed, pressing her lips together contritely. “The trouble is, I can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to Carlisle, and Carlisle can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to me. I promise you, though, we will make it up to you.” She fed you more pasta.

It tasted delicious, but that did nothing to assuage your terror. “You don’t even know me. What do you mean, I’m important to you?”

Esme clicked her tongue softly and rhythmically against the roof of her mouth, as if to soothe. “Carlisle can explain that better than I. But rest assured, everything is going to be alright.”

Your skin crawled, at the dissonant cordiality. “Where is Dr. Cullen?”

You heard a flutter of what could have been footsteps, if people were capable of moving that fast. Then, the bedroom door opened again and Dr. Cullen entered.

“Hello again, dear heart,” he greeted you, and his demeanor was about the same as it was in public, or in the hospital. Respectful, polite. Maybe just a bit...off. Too much of something, maybe too polite and kind for the circumstances. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this.”

The apologies were making this worse. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you said. “Just please take me home.”

“I can’t do that, angel,” he sighed. He did appear sorry, but not as sorry as he should have. “But I can explain everything to you now.”

He sat down on the other side of the bed, opposite Esme, who was still feeding you. And he did explain everything, in such expansive detail that you fell back asleep before he even got to the part about mates.

…

“You can pretend with them, but not with me.” The voice was quiet, and not so much accusatory (despite the pointedness of his words) as reminding.

“I know that, son.” Dr. Cullen sounded positively serene.

“You knew how much time you were spending with Jasper, in your saddened state.”

“Yes.”

“You knew that we would do this.”

“I…suspected.”

“You meant for us to do this.”

“That’s enough, I think. Thank you.”

Silence fell.

You opened your eyes just a crack. The pillow beneath your face was awash with yellow light; the sun had risen, since last you’d fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream. You were still trapped in a house with these people who thought they were vampires. You closed your eyes again. The two voices had been speaking from the direction you were facing: Dr. Cullen at your level, perhaps in a chair at your bedside; and the other above, as if standing.

“One month,” the first voice suddenly added, and you weren’t sure what it was in reference to. It was as if an inaudible question was being answered.

“That’s her optimistic guess, or her pessimistic?” Dr. Cullen inquired.

“If all goes well, it will be one month. Poorly, and the longest she’s seen is three months.”

“Well, that is good to hear. I’ve waited much longer with hope for much less.”

“I know.”

You turned over, so that your back was to them, and began to open your eyes again, but then you heard Dr. Cullen rise from his seat, take up the chair, and move around the foot of the bed. You kept your eyes shut as he set his chair down on the new side and sat in it once more. He did all of this matter-of-factly, as if he’d changed sides every time you’d turned over during the night.

The thought of anyone wanting to see your face that badly made you shiver a bit.

“Awake?” Dr. Cullen inquired casually. You didn’t hear an answer, but the other man must have nodded, because Dr. Cullen continued, “Good. Esme will be done with breakfast soon. She’s so happy to be cooking again.”

“Jasper is in the kitchen with her,” the other said, as if that was a related statement somehow. “I’m going hunting. Good luck.”

You weren’t sure why, but you felt as if he was talking to you as much as Dr. Cullen.

#yandere twilight #not harry potter #yandere carlisle cullen #yandere esme cullen #male yandere #female yandere #obsession #stalker #twilight fanfiction

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