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snowywrites · 3 years

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Yuri x popular Fem!reader

summary: fluffy fic in which the reader sees Yuri while working at a coffee shop and intends to be closer friends with her.

word count: 2.1k

"Y/N!"

You stop in your tracks, turning to scan the tables around you for the source of the voice; it was kind of familiar, and your eyes fall on a customer that's a regular here at the coffee shop. A young man around your age, usually here with his friends but alone today.

You had been about to go make another coffee for a different customer, but you force a service smile onto your face and hurry over to his table. "Hello!" You wrack your brain for a second to bring a name to this man- it wasn't easy keeping track of so many different people, and not just at your job! You also tried to keep tabs on the majority of your peers from school, too. Fortunately, it clicks a moment later. "Hatsumi, was everything alright?" You ask, noting he's already finished his pastry and drink.

Hatsumi grins, clearly pleased you had remembered him. Customers tended to get really happy over little things like that... if only they knew you did this with all of them. It was no secret you were one of the favorites here at the little shop, consistently getting better tips than many of your coworkers. "It was great!" He answers you brightly.

You nod and inquire politely, "Would you like me to go ahead and bring the bill out now?"

A moment of hesitation, and then, "Oh- uh, yes, thanks." He seems a bit disappointed, but you don't have time to dwell on it right now, not with how busy today's rush hour is. The only good thing is you're hopefully going to be getting off in about a half hour.

You assure him you'll be right back and then flit off to the counter to ring up the items he'd ordered and print the bill. As you're doing so, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Glancing up, you see your favorite coworker, a girl several years older than you. "Y/N," she begins, a bit of a pleading look in her eyes that means she's about to ask you for a favor.

Biting back a sigh, you push down whatever annoyance you have at being interrupted to look expectantly at her. "What's up?"

"Can we please switch tables really quickly?" She practically begs you.

Switching tables wasn't too terribly uncommon- sometimes when guests came in, the baristas would know them outside of work and might ask a coworker to deal with the order and anything else.

"Sure," you giggle, ever the people-pleaser. You had a reputation to keep, after all! You don't like to brag, but you do enjoy the fact that you have many different friends and are well-liked by just about everyone you know. "Who?"

She gives a hop of delight. "Can I take the bill to Hatsumi?"

You can't help but smirk mischievously. "Ohhhhh, I see."

She lightly smacks you on the arm, instantly blushing. "Nono, I just-"

You cut her off before she can defend herself, knowing the two of you don't really have the time to waste playing around. "It's no worries. And who's that order for?" You question as you point at the circular silver tray in her hands which is holding a cute polka-dotted cup of tea.

"Ah, this goes to table three, the girl with the purple hair."

You nod, exchanging the bill for the tray. You want to watch and see what will happen between your friend and Hatsumi, if anything, but when you look towards the designated table, already heading for it, you realize you recognize the girl sitting there.

You have no trouble recalling her name. One of the members of your Literature Club, Yuri...

You haven't actually been in the club all that long at all, maybe a week-ish, and you feel like you haven't had any time at all to get properly acquainted with Yuri. Part of you feels that it's a shame, because you get the sense she's a very interesting and sweet person beneath her quiet and distant shell. It's just hard when she's always reading, and even in the rare moments she's not, she doubts herself so much during conversations with you that it just ends up being a bit weird.

But not today! No, you're suddenly filled with a sense of determination to get closer to Yuri.

You consider playfully scaring her when you walk up, but ultimately decide against it; aside from being naturally timid anyway, she's also, as usual, reading, and doesn't seem aware of anything going on in the shop around her. So, yeah, best to use a more gentle approach.

"Hey, you," you say, putting all the friendliness in your voice as possible, stopping beside the table to greet her.

In spite of everything, Yuri still jumps a bit in her seat, violet gaze flashing up to you in alarm.

'So much for trying not to scare her,' you think unhappily. Pushing that thought away, you give her a reassuring smile. "Sorry, it's just me! Y/N. We're in the Literature Club together," you try to remind her, wondering with a pang of horror if she's actually forgotten who you are. That would be a first for you.

A second of silence, but at last Yuri's tense grip on her book loosens, and she glances down at it, avoiding making eye contact. "O-Oh, I'm sorry."

Another awkward beat of silence. This was what you meant!! It always went like this with Yuri, and you wished more than anything that you knew how to make her more comfortable around you. Hoping to carry the burden of saving this interaction, you laugh nervously, "It's no worries! But, you didn't forget me, did you?" As much as you're just trying to joke around, there really is a slight feeling of hurt that that may very well have been the case.

Yuri stiffens, quickly answering, "No, I- I didn't!" It's a rushed response, louder than you've ever heard her speak and yet still quieter than most people's normal speaking voice. As if embarrassed by her small outburst, she ducks her head to add quietly, "Uhm, that is- I just meant that... I wouldn't ever forget you, Y/N."

Oh. Talk about giving someone butterflies. You never knew what to expect with Yuri- sometimes she could never get her words out, but then other times she'd say something with such a deep meaning that it would catch you entirely off guard. What's odd though is you know for a fact how truly sincere she is; Yuri is the type of person that's much deeper than most people, and she wouldn't say something if she didn't really think or believe it.

"Thank you, Yuri," you say warmly, setting her tea down near her on the table. "Here you go! I like this kind, too." Truthfully, since you hadn't taken the order yourself or even made the drink, you weren't 100% sure what kind of tea this was, but you were willing to try anything to make Yuri more at ease. It also wasn't unheard of for you to make conversation with customers, even if it was busier than usual right now- for once though, you weren't aiming to make a good tip or secure a regular customer. You genuinely wanted to talk with her. "Hey, is that the same book you're reading at the club?" You question after catching a glimpse of the cover art.

She shakes her head, causing some of her bangs to fall into her face. Brushing them out of the way, she frowns and then nods. "W-Well, kind of. I finished that one yesterday... this is the sequel," she explains.

"It must be pretty good if you want to read the next part already," you comment. "What's it about?"

As predicted, Yuri noticeably perks up. "Oh, I think you would really enjoy it, Y/N. It's about-"

"Y/N!"

You flinch at the stern voice of your shift supervisor, who apparently hadn't realized Yuri was speaking when he cut her off.

You glance back to see him gesturing at you in clear annoyance, motioning to the line of guests waiting for their drinks to be made. You nod, signaling you'll be right over.

Focusing back on Yuri, you're unable to mask your disappointment. "I'm sorry, I've gotta get back to work. I'm supposed to be off in a little bit though."

Yuri seems to also be discouraged, apologizing for keeping you, even though you're the one who had intentionally kept the talk going. She bites her lip, and then, probably overtaken by a brief moment of courage, suggests, "When you get off, maybe then I could tell you about the books?"

You're stunned, but at the same time, this was precisely what you'd been hoping for! "Yes, sure! That sounds great. I'll see you then!" You chirp, hurrying away.

The last of your shift passes by rather quickly, and when it comes time to clock out, you actually have to tell your supervisor no, you can't stay another extra hour even if they are busy, because you have plans! Normally you would have, but not today.

You meet Yuri at the door and the two of you leave the coffee shop together. The sun is close to setting, but not quite there yet. "Thank you again, Yuri! I like spending time with you, I've just been a little busy lately," you say.

Yuri mumbles something you can't quite hear, but then adds more clearly, "I-I'm glad..."

"So," you begin, clasping your hands behind you and beaming at her. "About those books!"

That's all it takes for Yuri to dive into an explanation of the main plot points as the two of you walk side by side towards your home.

You're more than a bit tired from work and standing on your feet for so long, but it's nice to have company on the walk back, especially someone like Yuri. You hum and comment every so often, honestly thinking that they did sound like the sort of books you would enjoy. Full of fantasy and mystery and thrills... and of course, romance.

"So, the main character ditches his friend, who's been with him the whole time, for the new girl? And she's from the enemy's group?" You surmise.

Yuri hesitates. "I don't want to spoil anything for you if you're wanting to read them for yourself..."

"Such a tease," you sigh, pretending to be betrayed. "Oh, we're here- this is my house."

The two of you stop at the gate leading to the front yard of your home, and you're positive you aren't imagining the plaintive expression on Yuri's face. You didn't really want your time together to end either, but alas, you both have classes tomorrow.

"If- If you really would like, you can borrow the first book from me," offers Yuri. "And then... you'll see for yourself how it all goes."

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes, please! Thank you, that's really sweet of you! We can discuss it too after I'm finished reading it. I think I already know who my favorite character is going to be, though."

Yuri tilts her head curiously. "Who would that be?"

"Nope! It's a secret, for now." You pause, glancing up at the darkening sky. "Will you be okay walking home by yourself?"

Her violet eyes soften at your concern. "Yes, I don't live very far from here."

You find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye to Yuri, an uncertain quiet settling over the two of you, but she doesn't seem to find it awkward. "Okay, if you're sure. Do you mind giving me your phone number, though?"

She starts in surprise, a dusting of pink covering her cheeks. "U-Uhm- I- you-?"

"So you can text me when you get home," you quickly defend your reasoning, feeling a bit shy yourself at Yuri's reaction. She really was unique- most people tried to play it cool when asking for or giving numbers.

"R-Right," she stammers, reciting it off for you, and her phone buzzes at the quick text message you sent her so she would have your number.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, at the Literature Club," you finally say, already looking forward to it. "And don't forget to bring the book, please!"

Yuri steps back, her gaze on the ground but you still see her smile to herself. "Yes, I will. Bye, Y/N." She seems like she has something else she wants to say, but then she gives herself a shake and quickly turns away, her long hair twirling to follow her.

You watch her go until you can't see her anymore, partly due to wanting to make sure she was safe.

You couldn't help but admire her for her intelligence and beauty, even if she seemed to admire your social skills in return. Hopefully this was the start of a very deep relationship with Yuri.

#yuri #yuri x reader #ddlc x reader #doki doki literature club #reader insert #scenario #imagine #fem reader #ddlc reader insert #preference

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teenyweenynightghost · 3 years

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Beach Day

Basically just what I think Måneskin would be like on a beach day🤗

Damiano

Ps: i dont know what the fuck you call those beds you sit on at the beach so i will call them sun beds.

He would most definitely wake you up early, going to a popular beach

He would be the type of person who would leave quite unprepared. Maybe a sunscreen bottle in his hands- if he remembers, that is

You would clearly have to be in charge of the beach bag

“Did you take sunscreen?” “Oh right lemme grab it.” “How about towels?! You shouted from downstairs. “ON IT!!”

Once you get there, brace yourself because I am 100% sure he would throw you in the water

Also because it’s literally still dark out- it’s coLD

“DAMIANOOO!” You shrieked, freezing water all around you. Hearing him giggle only fueled your anger as you tried swimming towards him, but he had already caught onto your antics and was now safely located on the beach bed.

Another thing: I’m pretty sure he would try and stay there all day

“Dami, it’s 3 pm, the sun is dangerous, let’s go home.” You pleaded for the hundred time, watching him build sand castles under the umbrella. “Are we pussies? No the fuck we’re not. We’re staying here until it chickens out.” “What it?” “The SUN!“You rolled your eyes and muttered a few prayers before laying back down on the sun bed.”

And when you’re in the water… beware

“Absolutely not.” You pushed Damiano’s hand away from your thighs, as you tried putting some distance between yourself and the seemingly horny singer. He only pouted and swam back near you, holding you in his arms. “What’s wrong, cara mia, afraid you won’t be able to be quiet? He hummed in your ear while caressing your ass. “Get off you horny bastard.”

In the evening, when you would finally manage to talk him into going home, you would have to but a million bottles of aloe vera to cure his burns.

Thomas

Oh If you could get him out of bed and on the beach at midnight you could consider it a success

Unless there is you (you know exACtly what I mean by that), food or games, he will simply not wake up

“Thomas, sweetheart, wake up” you whispered in his ear, caressing his cheek. “Be gone thot.” “Thomas.” “I was pretty clear before.” You grunted and started shaking him roughly, noticing his eyes were now open and a furious expression on his face. “You cruel, vicious woman.” “Ah, so you’re up.”

He would definitely ask you to take him to a more quiet beach, where he could slumber in peace

After getting in the water for approximately five minutes, he would return to the towels and sleep

An hour later, when he would get hot again, he would go for another dip.

“Stay longer, pleeasee!” You pleaded, holding his hands and looking up at him with puppy-eyes. “To quote Kevin Hart; nah man, I ain’t gon do it.” “PLEASEEEE!”He sighed and beat himself up for being so soft, before pulling you to him and jumping in your arms.

Beach days with Thomas would be incredibly relaxing

There would not be a single thing in the world you had to worry about, considering that he wouldn’t move at all

If he took his guitar with him, he would serenade you in between naps

You would both sit in a comfortable silence, your eyes on his fingers as he’d strum the chords delicately

Oh and food

Yes…

“Y/N! “Yes.” “Food. Now. A lot. Much. Bunch. Urgently.” Y/n scoffed, grabbing a bag of chips and throwing it in Thomas’ face.

Ethan

Now because my personality is very similar to Ethan’s

Im probably just projecting

But anyways

Early morning coffee, maybe a jog, this man is definitely up at a VERY early hour

A few cuddles and kisses, and you both end up in the kitchen, having breakfast and searching for a beach

It would obviously be a secluded one, where he could bring his thousands of chairs and tents.

“Ethan, why is there a 400€ bill on your card?” “I bought a few beach things.” Y/n stared at him, mouth agape, trying to figure out what the hell he bought. “WHAT?” “Well, there were these incredibly light foldable chairs and beds. They are top technology, made with…” He kept on rambling, his eyes lighting up at the subject.

He would obviously drive you there, putting some chill tunes on, holding your hand and kissing it at every stop.

Once you get there NDNSSNSN MY HEART

He would be THE softest, most puppy-eyed human being EVER

Ethan applied sunscreen all over y/n’s body, making sure she was protected., leaving a soft kiss on every inch of her body. Slowly picking her up bridal-style, he walked into the sea and submerged them both underwater. “Ethan! It’s cold!” Y/n shrieked, earning a chuckle from the drummer. “Spiacente, amore.” The rest of their day was spent cuddling, exploring the water and napping. It’s safe to say this was the most relaxed y/n has ever been.

Just… A SOFTIE

Vic

So you know how everyone before was kinda wholesome?

(This works cuz I have iwbys playing in the background)

She is very much not.

If she went out with friends, she would probably go to a more busy beach, but with you, she will take you to one that has just enough people that it isn’t empty, but also enough to be considered being out in public

And then the teasing would begin

“Hey, can you help me apply sunscreen?” “Anything for you, little puppy.” She answered you cheekily, a devilish expression on her face. “NOT THERE!”

So after the whole sunscreen ordeal would be over…

Time for the water

😈

“It’s really cold! “Well lemme warm you up puppy.” Y/n tried to protest, but she felt Vic’s warm hands on her body and all words died in her throat. Vic palmed her chest lightly, pressing softly as soon as she heard y/n gasp. “We’re in public!” “Then be a good girl and stay quiet for me, hmm?” Ugh this girl really made you a sinner. You nodded and got closer to her, feeling one of her hands moving to your thighs, squeezing the inner parts and letting a finger float upwards. You whimpered at the feeling earning a grunt from her. “We’re gonna have to train you to be more quiet when we get back home, won’t we puppy?”

And with that, your beach mood is gone.

Time to fu-

That’s it babes❤️ pretty chaotic but at this point it fits my aesthetic so I won’t bother.

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug

#maneskin #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #damiano david #thomas raggi #måneskin

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reallivegeekgirl · 3 years

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StanQuest

Something clicked on in my brain a couple months ago and suddenly Sebastian Stan became the hottest man alive. So I decided to watch everything he’s ever been in. A friend and I called it StanQuest.

Here are my spoiler-free reviews for anyone considering something similar (in inverse chronological order starting with latest works and going back in time. The stars are an overall rating of the work, not of Sebastian’s performance.

This only lists things I could find streaming for free or a price I was willing to pay. It does not count after credits scenes, music videos, or works in which he was uncredited.

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021) - TV show - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This started it all. I very much enjoyed it. Good balance of humor and action, heart and heroics. I’ve watched it four times already, and will watch it again. Bucky Barnes is my favorite character of his and this is my favorite story of Bucky's so far. I can’t wait to see what he does next. (And I have a lot to say about how they treat his trauma in this show. I’ve definitely written about it before and may again.)

Monday (2020) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - This is the one where he gets naked. If that’s all you’re looking for, enjoy. It was a very realistic portrayal of a relationship between two deeply flawed people. It can get depressing. But hey, penis.

The Devil All the Time (2020) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you think Monday is depressing, this movie says “hold my beer”. But something about it is just captivating. It’s really disturbing, and if you’ve ever been screwed over by American Evangelical Christianity it might be more disturbing. Still, I’ve watched it twice. And as much of a bastard as Lee Bodecker is, he also looks really cuddly. He’s just barely in it.

The Last Full Measure (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - You will cry. A lot. It’s based on a true story. Sebastian plays a man who cares more about his career than this weird quest dumped on his desk by his boss, but changes his mind and his heart as he investigates why a war hero was denied a medal of honor 34 years before. Definitely recommend.

Endings, Beginnings (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - One of two love interests in the complicated life of Shailene Woodley’s Daphne, Sebastian is an adorable mess. The editing is interesting and fresh feeling. Watch it and you’ll see what I mean. Fair amount of sex in this movie, and you see his butt. It’s a very nice butt. I’ve watched this one a few times so far.

Avengers: Endgame (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐ - There is no reason to watch this movie if you’re not familiar with at least most of the rest of the MCU. It plays merry hob with the rules of time travel, and only makes sense if you don’t really think about it. In my opinion, the ending is really freaking stupid comsidering his character’s history, but at least it sets up TFatWS, which was amazing.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle (2018) - Movie - ⭐ - If you’re into movies that are creepy but also almost nothing happens for most of the movie, this is the one for you. Sebastian is handsome as hell, but also a complete asshole. As fine as he is, I’m not gonna watch this again. I fucking hated it.

Destroyer (2018) - Movie - ⭐⭐- I had a hard time paying attention to the plot because it seemed like they made this movie just to get Nicole Kidman an Oscar nomination for wearing ugly makeup and playing a complete mess of a person. It’s a fine movie, and all of the performances are good. Sebastian looks surprisingly good with the short hair and goatee. Ultimately, the plot is depressing and the whole movie seems kind of pointless.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - Movie - ⭐⭐- Again, no reason to watch this if you aren’t already familiar with all the movies leading up to it. It’s long and the villain looks like Grimace and a California Raisin had an evil baby. The ending made me scream with frustration that I had to wait until the next one came out. Now I just watch them back-to-back if I watch them at all. It’s not a good movie, but it is part of a long-form story that I enjoy in general.

I’m Not Here (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐- Another depressing one. Told over the course of one man’s terrible life, it’s a sad account of how much your parents can fuck you up. Sebastian portrays the middle part of the man’s life. J.K. Simmons plays the current day part and unreliable narrator.. Do not watch unless you are fully prepared to be sad for a really long time after.

I, Tonya (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐- This movie is hilarious. I mean, the true story is insane and really stupid. The spousal abuse is hard to watch, and Sebastian’s mustache in this is a war crime. But the acting is great and it’s a very engaging movie. The parts that aren’t horrifying are pretty funny.

Logan Lucky (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Watch. This. Movie. Sebastian Stan is only in it a little, but it’s a really fun, clever caper/heist movie and everyone in it is fantastic. I don’t want to say anything else about it if you’re going in fresh. I’ll be rewatching this one a lot

Captain America: Civil War (2016) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you ignore how kind of silly the conflict over the Sokovia Accords is, this is a good Marvel movie. Sebastian gets a lot of screen time because Bucky is the more pressing concern/urgent point of contention than the Accords. Bucky is my favorite character of his partly because of this movie.

The Martian (2015) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I’m watching it(again) as I’m typing this. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. Sebastian Stan isn’t in it very much, but he’s very cute and so is his little story arc. Mostly I watch it because Ridley Scott made a fantastic movie. If you can get your hands on the Blu-Ray, it comes with a ton of extras. They made a very complete story that isn’t all seen in the movie. A lot of it is stuff about Mars, but there are also extra “crew” interviews, so there’s another chance to see more of Sebastian’s character.

Ricki and the Flash (2015) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - He’s not in this very much, but he’s very cute when he does appear. It’s all about the relationship between Ricki and her daughter. Definitely rewatchable. Meryl Streep is fantastic, because she’s Meryl Streep.

The Bronze (2015) - Movie - ⭐ - This is not a good movie. It’s about Olympic gymnastics, so it might be slightly more interesting right now while the Olympics are happening. Sebastian isn’t in it a lot, but his performance is certainly… memorable. Weirdest sex scene I’ve ever seen. Worth watching just for that.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This is the one I can watch over and over. I bought a Winter Soldier face mask for when I need to feel like a badass. Bucky’s story is really sad, but he’s also extremely sexy with the metal arm and determined walk.

Once Upon a Time (2012-2013) - TV Show - ⭐⭐⭐ - This show is so stupid, but it’s also fun. If you haven’t seen it, the premise is that fairy tale characters are real and live in another land. Snow White’s Evil Queen casts a spell to transport a bunch of them to a town she creates in Maine called Storybrooke, and gives them all fake memories so she can be mayor and watch them all not remember who they are. Sebastian plays Jefferson, a.k.a. The Mad Hatter. He’s in a few episodes in season 1 and 2, and doesn’t get a ton of screen time, but he’s really cute and tragic as Jefferson. It probably helps to watch the whole first season just to understand his episodes, but that’s up to your tolerance for weird shit. Note: IMDB says he’s in an episode uncredited, but I’ve watched it and didn’t see him anywhere in that one.

Labyrinth (2012) - TV Mini-Series - ⭐⭐⭐ - Two episodes that tell a complete story. Sebastian isn’t in this one a whole lot, but he is adorable. It’s a strange story about religious stuff and a sort of Holy Grail that’s three books. It’s hard to describe. It’s on Amazon Prime right now, but they’re taking it down August 8, 2021, so watch it while you can.

The Apparition (2012) - Movie - ⭐ - If you like horror movies, you might like this. I did not. From what I understand, it’s not a very good horror movie. Watch with caution and expect it to suck.

Political Animals (2012) - TV Mini-Series - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I had to buy this through Apple and watch it on a Mac, but it was worth it. Sebastian plays TJ Hammond, the out gay son of a former American president who is clearly based on Bill Clinton. Sigorney Weaver plays the former first lady and current secretary of state. TJ struggles with addiction and relationship problems. His performance is heart-wrenching. The whole show is pretty great. I wish there was more of it.

Gone (2012) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - More of a psychological thriller than a horror movie. Sebastian has a small amount of screen time as the worried boyfriend. Amanda Seyfried is good. She carries the film well on her own.

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you haven’t seen this yet, I’d like to know what it’s like under your rock. This is a movie I can rewatch a lot, and have. I 100% cried in the theater. Sebastian looks fantastic in uniform as Bucky Barnes. This is his introduction and the start of his ultimately tragic story (before he’s saved by his best friend, again).

Black Swan (2010) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Sebastian is barely in this. He’s basically just in one scene in a dance club. But I watched it to try to complete StanQuest, and I had seen it before. It’s a good movie, but might induce some nightmares, depending on what scares you. If Natalie Portman didn’t at least get a nomination for an award she was robbed.

Gossip Girl (2007-2010) - TV Show - ⭐⭐ - Carter Baizen is a little shit. The episodes with Sebastian in them might have made more sense if I watched the show from the beginning, but I didn’t want to. His character is an asshole, but a very cute one.

Hot Tub Time Machine (2010) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐- The people who made this movie are bad at math, and their rules of time travel are sketchy at best, but it is funny and entertaining. Sebastian plays a ski patrol bro who’s paranoid about the Russians, which is hilarious irony to me. Worth watching if you want to laugh at something dumb.

Kings (2009) - TV Show - ⭐⭐⭐- Sebastian plays Jack Benjamin, the closeted gay son of the king of a fictional place. It’s loosely based on the David and Goliath story from the Bible. Sebastian is so sad and so gay. His family makes his life a living hell. Ian McShane is a force of nature in this. It’s only one season. I’ve watched it twice. I will watch it again.

Spread (2009) - Movie - no stars - This movie was practically unwatchable. It stars Ashton Kutcher and Anne Heche as a romantic couple, I guess? I ended up just skipping to Sebastian’s scenes and only watching those. Still painful.

The Covenant (2006) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - This movie is so fuckig stupid, and I will watch it a ridiculous number of times. It’s about magic and teenagers, like The Craft for boys. Nothing about it makes sense. It’s terrible, almost irredeemable, but an evil Sebastian with magic powers is a siren song that will make me steer my boat right into the rocks.

And there you have it. There are a bunch of earlier things on IMDB that I just can’t find or don’t want to pay to rent. Maybe some day I’ll watch them and add them to this list.

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blueaura · 4 years

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Lost and Found Ch. 5

A/N: Since I was late with the last chapter, I tried to get this one done as soon as possible. We finally get a little bit of Cas as well as some brotherly moments between Sam and Dean. Thanks to everyone who’s read it this far. As always, any tips and suggestions are welcome. Feedback would be amazing. Thank you and happy reading!

Summary: Sam and Dean meet a young hunter who is a little rough around the edges and they reluctantly take her under their wing. But she might be a little more connected to them that any of them realise.

Word Count: 2k

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Dean found himself at the bar after he stormed out of the motel room. He was angry, which wasn’t a big surprise since anger was practically Dean Winchester’s default setting. What was a surprise was the fact that Dean was scared shitless. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so out of control.

Fear was a constant in Dean’s life, it wasn’t like this was a new feeling. Hell, fear kept him alert during hunts. It was healthy, even, in his profession. But this wasn’t the fear that came with hunting a monster or facing the devil. This was like the time Sam had ran away on his watch and he couldn’t find him. Or like when Dad had left him in that boys’ home with no guarantee that he was coming back. This was the kind of fear where he was completely helpless and didn’t know what to do to make things better.

He took a sip of his beer and realised he needed something way stronger if he was to compose himself before facing his brother and Y/N again.

Y/N.

He didn’t know how to deal with this new complication in his life. He remembered his time with Sandra, remembered how she had cut him off after their last time together even though they had been pretty consistent with keeping in touch before then. Could she really have hid something so big from him? His grip tightened over the bottle as anger coursed through his veins at the thought of her hiding this from him. He latched onto that anger. Anger was safe, this he knew how to handle.

“Can I get a whiskey next sweetheart? Make it a double,” he didn’t even look at the pretty bartender behind the counter, staring intently at the beer in his hand instead.

“Rough night?” she asked as she handed him a glass half filled with whiskey.

“Something like that,” he replied, taking the glass and immediately downing it in one go.

“You wanna talk about it?” she eyed him as she refilled his glass.

Dean looked at her. She was pretty, someone he would usually not think twice about taking home. In fact, on a normal night he would have already had her spread out in the backseat of baby by now. But this wasn’t a normal night, and so he ignored her ‘fuck me’ eyes and instead shook his head as he sipped on his second glass of whiskey. Better to pace himself unless he wanted to show up at the motel drunk and freak Y/N out more than she already was.

His phone rang and he looked at the caller ID – Cas. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt as he remembered he’d promised to call him after the case ended. Cas wasn’t taking the whole ‘being on the bench’ thing too well and was more worried than usual about Sam and Dean so they had tried to keep him updated to assuage his fear.

“Cas,” he tried to keep his voice even, “Hey man, sorry we didn’t call. We’re alright.”

“What’s wrong?” Cas always knew when Dean was bullshitting him. For someone who barely knew social cues, he was more in tune with Dean’s emotions than Dean himself was. It was freaky but he guessed it was a side effect of the whole ‘raising him from perdition’ deal.

Dean considered lying but he knew it was pointless. He sighed loudly as Cas waited for him to talk patiently. Looking around the packed bar, he decided to head out before having this conversation. Throwing a few bills on the counter to cover his drinks, he quickly thanked the bartender and walked to his car.

“It wasn’t vampires,” Dean tried to deflect. “It was a family of shifters. Y/N and I got caught and Sammy came in and saved the day.”

“Dean,” Cas said in that infuriating tone which always got on Dean’s nerves. Clearly deflection wasn’t working.

“Sammy is under the impression that I may have a daughter,” Dean blurted out quickly.

Cas was silent for a moment, taking in what Dean was saying.

“Well, is it such a surprise? You engage in a lot of sexual activity from what I’ve heard,” Dean didn’t know if Cas was joking or just being Cas.

“Dude, seriously, what the hell! Why does everyone think I’m stupid enough to forget a condom? I’m not irresponsible!”

“You do realise that no protection is a 100% effective Dean,” Cas sounded amused, “But, who is the girl you think you fathered?”

“Not me, Sammy,” Dean growled out.

Cas waited.

“Y/N. It’s Y/N,” Dean finally mumbled.

“The hunter you met on the case?” Cas was surprised. “That doesn’t seem odd to you? Meeting a hunter who is potentially your offspring on a case, while we’re supposed to be dealing with the darkness?”

Dean paused. “You think this is what – some kind of a trick?”

“It does seem like too much of a coincidence, Dean, don’t you think?”

“No,” he said after considering the situation. “And even if it is, Y/N is not involved. There is just no way. She was more shocked when Sam said it than I was. Unless she’s the best teenage actress on the entire fucking planet, there’s no way you fake a reaction as strong as that.”

Perhaps the intensity in his voice surprised Cas, because he didn’t say anything for a long time while Dean got his anger in check. He didn’t care who he was to her, he was already protective over the kid. The thought of her being used for some plot against them set his blood on fire. He wouldn’t lose anyone like he did Charlie ever again – never.

“I didn’t say the child was involved, Dean,” Cas said slowly, as if scared of incurring Dean’s wrath. “I only meant to bring up the possibility that if anyone on either side knew about her, the child might be in danger. Be careful. Please.”

Dean calmed down immediately at that. Cas was just looking out for him, like he always did.

“I don’t know how anyone could have known. Hell, I don’t even actually know yet. It’s just speculation, Cas. It’s not like we can waltz in and get a paternity test. I’m supposed to be legally dead.”

He had hated when the kid had pointed it out, but she made sense.

“If I could perhaps see the child, get a good look at her soul, I would be able to confirm it for you,” Cas said thoughtfully. He knew Dean’s soul like the back of his hand. He would recognise a piece of it anywhere.

“Alright, one – stop calling her ‘child’ Cas, she’s not a toddler. And B, you’re still recovering. You need to concentrate on healing. We can live a few more days without knowing.”

“This is something I can do Dean. Let me. It doesn’t require me exerting myself and it would help you. Bring her to the bunker, I’ll be here.”

Dean knew Cas wouldn’t budge. He detested ‘not being useful’.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Sam and Y/N about it and we’ll head your way if she decides to join us,” he conceded.

“What? No, Dean. You need to bring her here. She could be in danger,” Cas stressed out.

“I’ll figure something out. I can’t force her to come or she’ll never trust me again Cas. Kid’s already hesitant to accept help. If we rush her, we’ll lose her for good.”

Dean wasn’t happy about it, but he knew better than to push her. He remembered kids at his short stint in the boy’s home, how guarded they were. He knew she’d had it worse and it killed him to think about it, so he pushed it to the back if his mind.

“Alright Dean. See you soon then,” Cas said.

“Yeah buddy. You rest up, alright? If we’re going to do this, you need to regain your strength first.”

“Bye Dean.”

He hung up as he was pulling up outside the motel. After parking the car, he walked to their room for the night hoping to take a shower. He hadn’t been able to after the hunt and had received more than a couple of odd looks at his appearance while at the bar. Still made an impression on the bartender, he thought smugly, opening the door and then promptly freezing at the sight in front of him.

Y/N was sleeping with her head in Sam’s lap as he sat next to her, still stroking her hair. She had clearly been crying and even Sam’s eyes looked a little red.

Sam looked up when the door opened, his hand immediately going for his gun before he saw Dean and relaxed. He looked at Y/N and gently lifted her head, placing it on the pillow, before motioning to Dean to step back outside.

“What the hell happened,” Dean immediately snapped at his brother as soon as the door closed behind them. Sam took a laboured breath, not reacting to Dean’s anger.

“We talked. She’s scared Dean. I don’t know what exactly happened in her life but it was bad. Bad enough that she hyperventilated at the thought of having to go to school. And not in the normal teen angst kind of way. It was – She’s had it rough, man.”

Dean pulled at his hair. “How am I supposed to fix this, Sammy? I don’t know the first thing about being a dad! Let’s be honest, we didn’t have the greatest example of one.”

Sam was surprised. Dean usually didn’t admit Dad’s faults. He watched as Dean paced in the corridor.

“A daughter, Sammy,” Dean’s voice broke as he finally allowed himself to feel the overwhelming panic that he’d been pushing down the entire night.

“Dean? Hey! De, calm down,” Sam gripped his shoulders, making him stop.

“What the hell are you talking about man? You practically raised me! It’s gonna be a challenge and you’re probably gonna screw up along the way but you’re gonna do right by that kid. I know this because I know you. I know how good you are at this because I saw it first-hand. We’re gonna figure this out and we’re gonna do it together – like we always do.”

Sam didn’t remember the last time his brother had let himself be this vulnerable in front of him. Dean had always been the rock, the adult. He watched as Dean slowly got himself under control and patted his neck to assure him that he wasn’t alone. Dean nodded, getting rid of the remaining anxiety in his body. He could do this. He had to. He’d missed out on fifteen years already.

“We need to take her to the bunker with us. Tell me you managed to get through to her?” Dean almost pleaded with Sam.

“I don’t know man. I tried, and I think I made some headway but I don’t know if she’s gonna agree to come with us so soon.”

Sam didn’t get the urgency in Dean’s expression and figured there was probably more to the story. So, he asked him.

“Cas thinks she might be in danger. That it wasn’t just a coincidence that we found her on the same hunt as us. Sammy, if anyone got wind of this…” Dean trailed off as a look of absolute terror came over his face. Sam felt the fear in his bones too, but for once he had to be the rock. So, he steeled himself and gripped Dean’s shoulder tighter, grounding him.

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll keep her safe,” he promised.

“Keep me safe from what?”

Dean looked behind Sam and saw Y/N standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at them for an answer.

Dean looked back at his brother and his face reflected the same thought that was currently running through Dean’s head. Shit. Chapter 6

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resinatingbeauty · 3 years

Text

In Memory of The Best Friend I Ever Had - RIP Shadow (assumed)- 4/30/2021

Shadow showed up at my parents house where I lived at the time, one night back in 2016. I had just gotten home from working at a local country club late in the evening, tired, and physically burnt out from working 40+ hours a week on top of going to college for my associates degree. I saw something pass by the driveway out of the corner of my eye. Something massively fluffy, tail straight up in the air, trotting along. There are many feral cat colonies in this town and many cat owners that lived on that street. Needless to say, I didn't expect this one to whip back around and start chirping at me, rubbing my legs after I called to her.

My mother was adamant when my last two cats had past 8 or so years prior that she wasn't looking for any more pets. My mom loves animals, but she also loves her home and was thinking about doing renovations before adopting any new companions. I knew I was in trouble when this cat came to me with nothing but affection, clearly malnourished, but strangely well groomed. I knew she had to be owned by someone, I had no idea who.

That night I went inside after spending some time enjoying her company. At the time, I was calling 'Charlemange'' as a play on 'Charlemagne'. I had been taking a medieval humanities course at the time and the name seemed fitting enough considering how much scraggly fur she had. Huge paws. Big, fluffy tail and mane. I had never seen a cat so gorgeous around the area. All the feral cats are short hairs, reinforcing my notion that she had to be someone's pet.

I watched through the window slit of the front door as Charlemange played with the moths and other bugs that were attracted to the lamp post my parents have at the end of the driveway and regretted leaving her out there.

I simply thought that Charlemange would return home where she belonged. When I went out to my back screened in patio, whom do you think was waiting for me? Meowing? Charlemange. To my mother's horror, she would launch herself at the screen and hang there to get our attention. Imagine this big ass cat hanging from your screened in porch you've been trying to renovate by all her claws.

She was persistent and Charlemange NEVER returned home, wherever home was.

Eventually, I sealed the deal, low key giving her a can of tuna. Now you see how Shadow went from Charlemange to Shadow.

For about a month, all I had to do was make a high pitched noise and Shadow would come out of wherever brush she was stalking, running and talking until she found me. One evening, I went to give her her dinner, and she shot in the front door.

Mortified, I watched as she scooted right into the one place that I dreaded her to go. My parent's room. That night, as a 20 something, I received a lecture from my father about how my mother felt about pets. 'She isn't a kitten, you know,' he said, 'thats a grown cat. Someone else's cat.'

I just listened and acknowledged what he was saying. I knew there was no point trying to explain what exactly happened. When my dad got done going off on the back porch and went back in to bed, I heard a meow from the patio door. Shadow had been standing at the door, waiting for him to leave , almost like she was saying, 'Hey, I'm really sorry about that, sis,'

Shadow would go on to live in or around the property for nearly a month. I made an effort to find her owners and return her to no avail. Eventually, a single mom I had been working as a private tutor for as a side hustle agreed that she would take Shadow. This would only last for a few months. The family had another cat, Karma, whom had been declawed (I abhor this) and two little girls who had no respect for animals (especially cats) because of this. I knew how the oldest handled Karma and my only solace in handing Shadow over was that I knew she wouldn't be hit by a car, would be fed, loved to a degree, and would scratch the shit out of them if they fucked up.

Their mother ended up calling me, giving me money to bring Shadow in to the humane society, saying she was a wonderful cat, just not the best fit for the girls. I could only imagine what Shadow went through at that house, because the time there changed her. The collar I had on her was returned to me snapped in two. It looked like it had been pulled off. I cringed thinking about it and never put another collar back on that cat. At the time, a woman had been busted hoarding 100+ cats that had all been relinquished to the humane society and local rescues. The humane society's solution for most was euthanasia and I wasn't about that for Shadow. Back to my backyard she went.

Eventually, Shadow won over my mother and my father, especially my father, whom you would never think would love that cat so much. When my mother brought Shadow to the vet, we were surprised to find she had a chip in her ear registered to someone on our block. As per protocol, animal control was sent out to investigate. The woman told animal control that she didn't want the cat. All she did was run away. Shadow's real name was Holly, but she was still Shadow to me.

Shadow became the best friend I ever knew. Not a night went by where she wasn't under my covers sharing the pillow with me, laying stretched out on her back or side as the little spoon. If she wasn't in my bed, she would sit at the door to the bedroom, guarding me or in a chair next to me, always watching. I could do no wrong in that cat's eyes. She was the highlight of my day when I got home from every crappy job I had since. A furry coat to soak up the tears shed during long nights of insomnia and depression. An inspiration for my art and spirituality. My familiar and kindred spirit. If I would talk to her, she would respond with chirps and meows like she knew exactly what I was saying. If someone else was in the room giving her attention and I walked in, she would perk up and run toward me like they never existed. Shadow was the second cat that chose me. I have never chosen a cat from a shelter or adoption / rescue facility. This is how I acquired both my childhood furry friend and Shadow.

It all began when I noticed Shadow's fur was sticky and stiff, like she had been sitting in honey. Just the end of her tail at first. She always had this silly habit of sitting in her food tray, so I cleaned it and her and thought nothing of it until the drooling started.

Shadow had always been a drooler, but not to this extent. Drool bubbles would pop from her left lip. One night, when I came home from work before I started my leave to focus on my Etsy shop, I was horrified to find her sitting on the couch with a bloody chin. Now, there wasn't a large amount of blood, but this alarmed me significantly. It was time to see a vet, like, yesterday. Thankfully, my shop sales had been great and I didn't have to fret over the bill- I was ready to pay whatever it was to make her feel better.

The vet confirmed what I knew deep down and didn't want to acknowledge because the thought was just too painful. Cancer. No chance of survival even if I wanted to go through the hell of treatment, which involved removal of the tongue and jaw. I brought Shadow home and cried, hoping for the best -that the antibiotic would work. The vet said she had been wrong before, it could just be an abscess and it would heal. Shadow was still doing cat things. Shadow was still my best friend, she still loved me, she was still trying to cuddle me at night and surrounding me with the reminder of death in the odor of her breath.

Yesterday, I brought Shadow in to be put to sleep. The decision was made when I looked up from making a rune set and saw puddles of blood on the floor, a stream of it from her face as she was sitting in the window sill. I have never felt so heartbroken. Not even at a family member's funeral. I asked to bring her home, burying her under the tree where I buried my last cat and childhood familiar, Elmo. When I saw the standard biohazard bag peeking up through the dirt, I knew that was where she belonged. With her sister. Yesterday, my heart was buried with that cat. Eleven years was not long enough but each one filled with so much love and happiness. I stood with her until the end. The only peace I feel is that I know that she is no longer hurting. I know she knew I loved her.

I miss you Shadow. To those of you who have recently lost your best friend, your familiar or the love of your life, my heart goes out to you. I hope that someone else can read this and share my pain. I understand that there was nothing I could do but love her. Love your pets. Love them as long and as well as you can- nothing is immortal. We accept this when we commit to caring for our (mostly) furry (sometimes scaly or feathery) friends. This doesn't mean that it hurts any less when we lose them.

To my customers, who have been patiently and diligently awaiting orders while Etsy forced hiatus on my shop, preventing sales during this crisis in addition to my sister in law's wedding and me poking my own eye out back and February- you all are really the best turn of luck I've had. You do not know how much I appreciate you allowing me the time to spend these last few precious moments with her. It truly means the world to me and I hope at the end you receive something worth your time and patience. I have not forsaken fulfillment, and orders are still shipping. Unfortunately, I NEED to reopen and accept new orders, as Etsy is demanding payment for $600 worth of shipping labels. My shop is still appearing as in hiatus at the moment, but I ask for all the support my friends, supporters and followers can offer at this time as I essentially will be working for free when I reopen to pay these fees. Great, right?

If you are awaiting refunds, there is literally no money in the account associated with Etsy. However, as the funds become available, I will be processing refunds / cancellations. I'm sorry for the delays, I never thought I would say I found success at the worst possible time. I urge the rest of you- if you have a deadline for your order for the love of goddess TELL ME. I am getting a little frustrated with buyers (who are frustrated with me, understandably, but still, my item descriptions are clear about relaying deadlines) who are upset or complaining about meeting gift deadlines or other deadlines I literally had no idea about. I'm a decent psychic, but not perfect.

~ Samantha

(Owner/Designer/Creator blursedbaubles.etsy.com)

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doctorgerth · 4 years

Note

Resubmitting my ask - nsfw scenario with a jealous Marco and his Fem! crush- Marco and company are at a shady bar on an island, crush has been flirting heavily w/ another man... as they get up to leave, clearly to take things somewhere more private Marco has had enough and intervenes, playing it off as he’s being protective and she shouldn’t be wandering off with strangers. (Part 1/2)

(Part 2/2) They argue a bit, and when she won’t give in to his demand, he just picks her up and tosses her over his shoulder, marching her back to the ship where he promptly dumps her on deck. She then gives him the what-for “you’re not my dad and you’re not my man. You don’t get a say in who I decide to fuck, and if you’re so worked up about it, maybe you should have found your balls and fucked me yourself!” Before she can storm off, of course Marco grabs her, kisses her, and then nsfw 😉

Whew this was actually really fun to write! I don’t write a whole lot for Marco I feel like, and he might be a little ooc in this but oh well 😂😂 I tried my hardest at sexy Marco! I really hope you enjoy it, Alice! 💖

warnings: cursing, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dom!Marco, jealous!Marco, foreplay, potentially ooc Marco content, sinful Marco content

Man Up (Marco)

Word Count: 3228

The bar was lively, perhaps a little too lively for Marco’s taste. He sipped lightly on his drink, visibly flinching at each exaggerated chuckle of (Name)’s that echoed throughout the entire bar. Normally, her laughter would make his heart flutter, a happiness filling his tummy as he swore he only wanted to hear her laughter forever. But here, under these circumstances, her sweet giggles were like nails on a chalkboard.

He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was watching her intensely. Eyeing every tuck of her hair, her every playful push on the strange man’s shoulder, the way he whispered in her ear causing her to smile brightly and laugh against his neck. It was sickening.

Marco could feel the tension in his fingers from grasping onto his glass so tightly; he had to continuously stop himself from shattering it to pieces. How could she be so shameless? Mindlessly flirting with an utter stranger? The guy was a total ass, holding her in his lap, arms secured around her waists with hands on her thighs, right where Marco’s should be.

He desperately wanted to steal her from the loser’s embrace, but Marco respected her above all else. He also knew better than to make a scene. She was a grown woman after all, and she surely wasn’t his woman. No matter how many times he’s imagined her to be. What right did he have to be so protective over her?

All sensible thoughts left his brain, however, as he noticed movement. The pair arose from their seats with the man placing his hand at the small of her back as he led her towards the door. Flashes of red seemed to cloud Marco’s mind as he hardly felt or realized how quickly he left his own seat to trail right behind them.

“50 beri says Marco makes a fool of himself and (Name) ends up hating his guts.” Haruta smiled devilishly at his friends.

“Oh yeah? 100 beri says Marco kicks the guy’s ass.” Vista waved the bill in his hand with a challenging and confident stare, “But you’re probably right. I don’t see (Name) liking him much afterwards either way it goes.”

“Not a chance.” Whitey Bay interjected, swigging her drink with a playful smirk, “You men don’t know anything. (Name) definitely has the hots for Marco and they’re totally about to smash. Right after Marco kicks the douche’s ass.”

Marco heard none of it as he could feel the steam pouring out of his ears as he sped walked towards the handsy couple. Without thinking, Marco reached out and snatched her hand, pulling her back into the bar by her wrist.

“Ouch, what the hell, Marco?!” (Name) stared up at him, face contorted with annoyance and confusion.

“Where do you think you’re going-yoi? You can’t just go off with strangers like this!”

“You can’t tell me what to do? You’re not my captain!” She was shooting daggers at him now, never ceasing in pulling away from him.

“I’m your commander and I think it’s best if you come back to our table where you’re safe, (Name)-yoi.” Marco tugged her back.

“Marco, seriously! Let go of me right now!”

“Hey man, just let the girl go! She doesn’t want to be with you obviously!” The man intervened as he stood before Marco. Though he wasn’t taller than Marco, his build was much thicker in contrast towards Marco’s slimmer frame.

“Oh, and you think she wants to be with you?”

“Considering she hasn’t kept her hands off of me all night and hasn’t paid a single bit of attention to you, I’d say there’s really no contest now is there?” A cocky smirk graced his lips as he placed a hand on Marco’s forearm, “Let the girl have some fun, old man. She needs to see what a real man can do to a woman like her.”

Marco was at a loss for words. Usually he’d have a quick quip ready for response, or simply ignore the asshole’s comment all together. But rage fueled his veins at hearing that boor talk so crudely about (Name). He didn’t even flinch in the slightest when his fist connected with the guy’s jaw.

As the man was attempting to recover, (Name) gasped and began screaming at Marco. He would hear none of it as he wasted no time in grabbing her, lifting her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and carrying her out of the bar. Her previous partner tried to reach for Marco, but Jozu and Vista quickly appeared and blocked the man’s attack.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, guy. Go find yourself another lady, that one’s taken.”

* * *

The walk to the ship was hazy. Marco had mixed feelings about everything as (Name) never ceased in her complaining, accentuating her defiance towards Marco’s suddenly brash actions with some light kicks and balled fists against his back.

What was he doing? Why was he even taking her to the ship? What was his plan?

He couldn’t answer any of these questions, and neither (Name) had any clue, even when Marco dropped her off in her cabin, slamming the door behind him with a swift kick.

“What the hell is wrong with you tonight!” She demanded answers as she wasn’t shy to get in his face.

“You can’t just go off with other men, (Name)-yoi! It’s not safe and we’re not here for you to sleep around with all the men in town!” His accusations were brutal and highly exaggerated, but the images of her all over another guy clouding his mind could hardly help in producing practical thoughts and responses.

“All the men in town? Are you even listening to yourself? It was one guy and he was actually very nice to me!” (Name) was very hurt to think her trusted friend would accuse her of such a thing. This was so unlike Marco, she had never seen him like this. He never acted this brash when Thatch would bring women to the ship.

“He was a total imbecile and you know it-yoi! You were just letting your lust get the best of you!”

“So what if I was? I’m a grown woman Marco!” (Name) shoved past him to reach for her doorknob, wanting to leave this annoying situation, but not before she had her last say so, “And last I checked, you’re not my dad and you’re not my man! You don’t get a say in who I decide to fuck, and if you’re so worked up about it, maybe you should have found your balls and fucked me yourself!”

Just as she tried to open the door, Marco slammed it shut again, this time with her body pinned against it. Her words were permissive enough for him to plaster his lips onto hers, dizzying both their minds as they couldn’t even attempt to make sense of the situation.

(Name) couldn’t even kiss back at first, though Marco tried desperately to elicit some kind of reaction out of her. Her eyes were wide open as all of her senses came alive and every bit of anger she was feeling only moments ago slowly dissipated. She could feel one of his hands roaming her body, gripping roughly at her waist while the other hand pinned both her wrists above her. His toned chest was flush against hers and having her commander randomly lusting after her was exciting to say the least, even if she was previously pissed at him. She was probably still pissed at him.

Either way, she couldn’t stop herself from melting under his touch. She knew Marco, though laid back as he usually was, had a bit of dominance in him that would show itself from time to time; particularly when giving orders and when he entertained his commander role. She just hadn’t expected him to use it on her in such intimate ways.

“Fuck you myself, huh? Is that really what you want, (Name)-yoi?” he whispered, looking down at her, searching for any kind of confirmation.

“I-I meant…”

“No, no, don’t act all shy now. You said it yourself and if you really want me to fuck you then that’s what I’m gonna do.” His fingers trailed down the side of her face, running down her lips and pulling her bottom lip down with them, “Now tell me again. What exactly is it that you desire-yoi?”

Seeing Marco like this, so possessive, so demanding, was truly intoxicating. And (Name) was well aware of how drunk off his touch she already was. She had imagined Marco in this way many a times, but having him actually here, staring down at her with those seductive eyes, made her feel utterly nervous and unprepared.

“You.” was all she could muster.

“Not good enough-yoi.” He tsked, pulling her body even closer to his, causing his lips to be just mere inches from her own, “Tell your commander what you want before I change my mind.”

They both knew there was no way in hell Marco could possibly change his mind right now. He was whipped for her after all, and though he was acting all domineering now, he had full intention of giving her whatever she wanted tonight regardless of anything else.

Though flustered as she was, she gained the courage to look him right in the eyes, giving him a response he could never be prepared for, “Commander, I want you to fuck me.”

That was nearly enough to break Marco, but with a satisfied groan, he recovered by attacking her lips once again. Hands roamed each other’s bodies in desperation as they fumbled around towards the bed, removing any and all clothing in the process. It didn’t take long before they were both nude and intertwined on her bed.

The sensation of lips, tongues, and teeth against bare flesh, leaving markings that would be visible for days, fueled the desire between the two as they claimed one another in heated passions. Marco pulled away to creep two fingers towards her, trailing them around her plump, bruised lips, subtly begging for entrance. Her eyes fluttered as her mouth opened to invite them in, instantly suckling at his fingers while she watched him bite his lip.

As soon as he pulled away from her mouth, he traveled down south towards a different entrance. Curious digits circled around her throbbing cunt, toying shamelessly with her nub before plunging deep into her. Paired with her saliva, Marco’s fingers were soaked from her juices, making it all the more easy to slide in and out of her.

(Name)’s claws scratched against his scalp at the sensation. He was relentless already, pumping in and out with haste, diving in knuckle-deep each time he entered her. The way he curled his fingers with each exit had her back arching towards him, inspiring him to latch his hungry lips onto her perked nipple.

“Marco!” she cried out, instantly overwhelmed by his eagerness and the pleasure he was granting her body. Her head was spinning, body aflame as he continued fingering her and sucking at her breasts with total adoration. He only wanted to hear her like this for an eternity, so he was willing to do whatever to elicit those heavenly calls and praises from her over and over.

Marco was a selfless lover, so much so, that he didn’t stop finger fucking her until she wailed out repeatedly, body writhing as she came hard against his hand. Her body shook with indescribable pleasure and she whined at the over stimulation of his fingers sliding out of her. Marco smiled to himself, proud with his work on her, but he was far from done. Rubbing at his cock, he watched her heaving chest.

“Don’t give up on me yet-yoi. There’s still so much I wanna do to you.” Her heart flipped, near the verge of an attack at his devilish smile, “Don’t you still want your commander to fuck you?”

With a tired nod, (Name) spread her sensitive legs open for him. But Marco refused, instead flipping onto his back, “Guess you’ll have to work for it-yoi.”

(Name) pouted, “Haven’t I been good, commander?”

Marco stilled. He was cool with delivering the overly confident dirty talk, but every time she responded with that naughty intent, he had to stop himself from melting right then and there. Gaining his composure, he casually rested his arms behind his head, “We’ll see about that.”

Thrilled and slowly gaining all feeling in her body, (Name) crawled on top of Marco, straddling his left leg. She rested her sensitive pussy against his leg, coating his skin with her mess instantly. Desperate for friction, she rubbed herself against his leg.

He moaned lightly at the sensation, enjoying just how continuously needy she was for him. He bucked his hips in surprise when she grasped onto his cock with a firmness he didn’t quite expect. She began squeezing and pumping him, more than eager to give him a taste of his own medicine. A curious tongue circled his head while she continued rubbing him.

Marco’s head flew back against the headboard as she slowly started taking him into her mouth. The slick heat was mind-numbing and absolutely exhilarating. His toes curled with each swipe of her tongue, breath hitching in his throat and lower body tensing up as her mouth was already bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

As she began deepthroating him, he could no longer hold back his cries of pleasure, calling out her name in praises as his hand on the back of her head encouraged her movements. She was utterly pleased to have her commander as putty under hands, but she wasn’t fully content just yet.

Sucking hard on his head, she used both hands to twist and pump his member, the saliva and precum aiding in her jerking him off. Marco’s eyes were clenched tight as his grip on her hair tightened as well, as if he were holding on for dear life. Her hands and mouth were pure magic as they easily brought him to the edge within minutes; his seed spilling into her greedy mouth.

He was the one to breathe heavy now, eyeing her as she arose from her position on top of him. Licking her lips and gazing down at him with hungry eyes, she used the back of her wrist to wipe away the cum trickling down her chin, “Do I get my reward, commander?”

In any other instance, Marco would have to wait hours, if not the next day for another round. But the eagerness and stamina (Name) was eliciting from him was mind-boggling and inspiring. He didn’t think to question it as he swiftly swapped positions with her, slamming her down onto her back as he spread her legs open for him.

He entered her in one harsh thrust, hissing at the overstimulatoin on his sensitive cock, but tried to pay it no mind as he gritted his teeth and focused on the overwhelming pleasure that her tight cunt was offering him.

“Oh my god!” she cried out as her nails clamped down onto his body. The sensation of being filled up so fully and so quickly caused her to be a writhing mess instantly.

“This is what you wanted-yoi.” He panted, raising his torso and gripping at her ankles to spread her legs further, “So take it.”

(Name) cried out as Marco relentlessly fucked her over and over into the mattress, spreading and stretching her legs higher and further apart, sure to make them absolutely sore the next day. Her nails clawed at his tattooed chest, then eventually his back, leaving small wounds that he didn’t even flinch at as his pace never faltered.

The sloshing sound of Marco abusing her sex and the equal amounts of pleasurable moans from both lovers filled the room, instantly feeling as if they were the only people left in the world. But even the delicious tightness of (Name)’s pussy as he pounded into her wasn’t enough to make Marco forget why they were in this precarious position in the first place.

“Trying to fuck some stranger, huh? You really think that guy could make you whine with pleasure like this-yoi?” Marco whispered in her ear, pace now slow and deep. His hips slammed into her, jolting her body with each agonizingly slow thrust.

“N-no.” She whimpered as she clawed at his tattered skin, “Only you, Marco. Commander…”

She could practically feel the pleased smile on his face, “What was that-yoi? Tell me, who’s making you feel this good? Me or him?”

“You, commander! Only you can make me feel this good!” She wailed, pulling him into her body and gyrating her hips as she was desperate for release. His changes of pace and sultry voice was bringing her on the brink of ecstasy, she could feel it and she needed it, “Let me come, please!”

“Such a needy little thing. As you wish.” He grins, picking up his pace, once again drilling her into the mattress.

It didn’t take much longer until she came undone all over his cock, and he followed suit soon after, pulling out to release on her tits and stomach with a low call of her name. He collapsed beside her, nearly too tired to keep his eyes open any longer from cumming so hard twice in one night.

Yet he still arose from the bed and made his way out the door, entirely in the nude. Even in her state of exhaustion, she still had an anxious feeling in her stomach. How could he leave her just like that? And why the hell did he leave without his clothes?

All fears subsided as he returned however, a small wet rag in hand. He approached her body and began wiping away the mess he made on her, then the mess on himself before discarding it to the corner of her room. He began pulling on his shorts while (Name) watched him get dressed, not even bothering to get dressed herself. The gentle and casual Marco she was so familiar with had returned, making her feel all giddy inside.

“That was nice.” she stated, breaking the silence. Marco stilled, surprised by her statement. He didn’t look at her as he continued dressing himself.

“Yeah, it really was.” He reassured. Nice didn’t even begin to describe it for him, however. He was convinced no words ever could.

“You can stay, if you want. You don’t have to leave just yet…”

Marco turned and smiled at her, “As long as you’re okay with it-yoi.”

She smiled back, opening up her comforter as an invitation for him. Marco slid in with ease and it didn’t take long for (Name) to sling her arms around him in an embrace. He was cautious to return the affection, but decided to wrap an arm around her neck anyway. Though he was calm and confident during sex, he was a nervous mess to have her so close and intimate in this moment. Yet he’s wanted this for so long, so he decided not to waste a single moment. They could face the repercussions in the morning.

Just as sleep was about to claim him, (Name) broke the silence yet again, “Hey, Marco?”

“What is it-yoi?”

“I’m really glad you manned up.”

A low, tired chuckle reverberated in his chest as he squeezed her tighter into him, “Me too.”

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

Bonus:

Whitey Bay earned hella money from the bet and Marco wishes he could never be called Commander again since the crew heard e v e r y t h i n g and constantly teases him about it lmao ( he still likes to be called commander in bed tho 🤷🏼‍♀️ )

#doctorgerth #doc writes #one shot #ns.fw #tw: jealousy #one piece x reader #marco x reader #f!reader #alice1290

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kiara-carrera · 5 years

Text

you and me

pairing(s): brooke holliday x sweet pea, dakota chambers x fangs fogarty (credit to @starkdnvers for dakota) word count: 9,351 summary: when brooke’s certain that she’s fucked up her entire life (and by extension, the life of her boyfriend as well), there’s only one person she can turn to. warning(s): pregnancy, swearing, mentions of sex, brief mention of abortion author’s note: the adult!challiday, accidental pregnancy au that basically no one but me and joey asked for. it’s chaotically long for something i thought was going to be very short, but here we are.

To say that Brooke Holliday was freaking out was the understatement of the century.

She was late. She was fucking late. She’d never been late in her life, her period had always been annoyingly regular, always showing up at the most inopportune times. But this month, it had been late a day. And then a day turned into two and two turned into a week and a week became two and two turned into Brooke paling at the sight of her phone’s calendar, doing the mental math. There was no other conclusion besides the fact that she was late.

It was that heart-stopping reaction that had sent her running off to the corner store, avoiding the curious and somewhat pitying stare of the cashier as she had shoved a handful of bills in exchange for the test.

Test. She was buying a pregnancy test. She was going to see either a negative or a positive result. Two little pink lines could change her entire life. She was trying to stay positive, but how could she? Luck wouldn’t be on her side in this regard. She’d never been lucky, that much was clear to her considering she grew up in Riverdale of all places. Things had calmed down since high school had ended, but that didn’t mean luck was in a place like this and it didn’t mean luck would be with her.

There had never been happily ever afters in a town that had once been plagued by so much needless death and she was certain there would be no starting with that now.

Regardless of all of that, she bought the test, forking over the money and returning home with it. She had followed the instructions, set a timer on her phone, and had sat on her bathroom floor with tears that threatened to fall but never broke past her waterline. She was panicking and that could be told simply from observing her. The normally put together blonde was sat on her bathroom floor, on the verge of tears, fingers tangled in her hands as she tried to go through her options.

What was she supposed to do if it was positive? Positive. A positive pregnancy test. A potential baby on the horizon. She was barely twenty-five. She was out of school and had a sort of decent-paying job, but she wasn’t even sure she when she wanted kids, let alone to have one right now. She had always pictured having kids somewhere down the road, but when she well past her twenties. Maybe at thirty-two, that seemed like a nice age to have a kid. But twenty-four? She still barely knew how to file her taxes and she was potentially carrying another life in her?

And Sweet Pea. How the fuck was she supposed to tell Sweet Pea if she was pregnant? How would that conversation even start? Like, hey, just an FYI, you knocked me up and my reproductive organs have basically screwed up our entire lives. She didn’t even know if he thought about kids at all, let alone with her. They’d been together for years, but the baby conversation had never come up. Nothing excessively long term, nothing permanent had been discussed between the two of them.

They were just going with the flow. They weren’t like their best friends, who had gotten married during the middle of college and had just had a baby themselves. They weren’t like Dakota and Fangs. All Brooke and Sweet Pea knew about their relationship was that they loved each other and that they loved being together. But that wasn’t much of a permanent declaration of anything…a baby would be.

Fuck. She released her hair, instead opting to put her head in her hands, burying her face into the fabric of her sweater’s sleeves.

As she sat there on her bathroom floor, she tried to think about how this happened. They’d always been safe, ever since that very first time. They’d been together since high school and had been sexually active since around that time as well. But they’d always used condoms. Deep down, she knew that condoms weren’t 100% effective, but from almost seventeen until now, she’d never had a scare. She was always careful, they were always careful.

Unless…shit. There had been one instance not that long ago where there’d been a mishap with the condom, but both of them had written it off as nothing to worry about. She had written it off as nothing to worry about.

And now? Now there was something to worry about. Fuck.

Now…now they were screwed—no, potentially screwed, she told herself. She nodded to herself a few times as she repeated this in her head, trying to convince herself of this fact. There was no certainty yet. The timer on her phone hadn’t gone off yet. Maybe her body just decided to fuck around and be late this month. An irregular period would be the heaven-sent blessing of the century.

But again, when had luck ever been on her side?

The timer went off then, startling her slightly. She wiped at her eyes, drying up the tears that she refused to let fall. Reaching behind her blindly, she slipped her phone off of the closed toilet lid, thumbing the alarm off. Brooke paused as she did that, stopping to stare at her lock screen for a moment.

The picture was old, haven been taken the day of her high school graduation. But despite the time difference, it was still one of the best photos that Brooke had. She was stood next to Sweet Pea, both dressed in their standard Riverdale High issue blue caps and gowns, beaming at the camera. Brooke could still remember Sweet Pea protesting taking a picture when she handed Vivian Chambers (Dakota’s mother and the only true maternal figure that Brooke had ever known) her phone to take the shot. He had continued to complain up until Brooke beamed up at him with her big blue eyes, batting her lashes at him. He had always been a sucker for that.

And so, the picture had been taken and Brooke had kept it as her lock screen throughout all those years. Normally, looking at it brought her a sense of peace. But right now, looking at it made her feel sick to her stomach.

She set the phone face down on the tiled floor, taking a deep breath. It was shaky upon exhale as she stood, eyes squeezed shut as she centered herself in front of the sink where the test was laid out for viewing.

It felt like an eternity before she allowed her eyes to open. She took another breath, trying her best to ground herself, even if for a moment. She glanced down, eyes scanning the results.

A hushed, barely audible oh was the only thing she let slip from her lips. No other words seemed like they could truly encapsulate what she was feeling at that moment. Where words didn’t work, tears did. For the first time that morning, Brooke Holliday let her tears fall, a choked sob slipping from her lips as she allowed herself to sink back to the floor of the bathroom.

On the sink, a pregnancy test sat, baring two pink lines.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

Brooke Holliday was freaking out. And when she freaked out, there was only one person she knew she could turn to.

After allowing herself to cry on the floor for fifteen minutes, whether it had been for herself, for Sweet Pea, or maybe for some future path that was now gated off to her, she had tried pulling herself together. She had wiped at her eyes again, harshly rubbing off the remnants of her mascara with it. Normally bright, blue eyes were bloodshot and puffy, tear tracks traced down the skin of her cheeks. But she had ignored those, opting for marching out of the bathroom. With her boyfriend at the garage for the next couple of hours, so it allowed her to roam around without the worry of running into him and having him question the visible remainder of her cry or try to deduce what she had shoved into her purse. Normally, she loathed the days where their days off didn’t line up, more than wanting to curl up in bed next to him for hours.

But today, it felt like the smallest possible silver lining that she could have ever been granted. And so, she had made her way to the door, had slipped on her jacket and grabbed her bag, and locked the door to her shared home behind her.

There was only one place she could go, she knew this as clearly as she knew that grass was green, skies were blue, and Pop’s shakes were one of the few good things about her hometown. In all situations, Dakota Chambers—sorry, Fogarty now technically, even if Sweet Pea solely referred to her as Chambers to this day—was the one person that could make sense of all of this.

The story of Brooke and Dakota wasn’t necessarily a lengthy one timeline-wise, but it was a story that filled with so many defining moments that it cemented the girls’ places as each other’s best friend. Dakota was like the sister that Brooke had never had. Her family had taken her in all those years ago when her mother had fallen through as a reliable parent. Dakota would be able to ground her, to calm her down. Hopefully.

The early winter air was bitter as Brooke made her way into the lobby of the apartment building that the Fogarty’s lived in. She hugged herself a little tighter as she crossed the threshold, even though a blast of warm air hit her the second she was safely inside. Honestly, if anything, she was more than likely holding herself tightly so that she didn’t fall apart.

A few flights of stairs later, Brooke stood in front of Dakota and Fangs’s door, rapping her knuckles on it quickly. There were only a few moments of pause before a calming voice was calling out that they were coming and then within seconds the door was opening.

Dak stood on the other side of the doorway, with her signature smile on her face and a baby on her hip. Brooke tried to smile at the sight of little Nora Rose, especially when her little face brightened in recognition of her Auntie Brooke, but it was hollow at best. Dak’s warm eyes fell confused at the sight of her less than happy best friend on her doorstep.

A little cautiously, she spoke. “Brooke? Is everything okay?”

Apparently, that was all it took for Brooke to lose any fragment of composure that she may have had.

Voice panicked, the blonde exclaimed, “We have a situation!”

Okay, maybe we wasn’t the right term. Dakota had no involvement with Brooke and Pea’s sex life nor the unknown day which their sex life led to this. But to be fair, Brooke always referred to everything as a we situation when it came to Dakota. They were a package deal, a matching set. From sophomore year till now, they had gone through so many different situations together that not calling this situation a we situation just felt wrong.

Dakota furrowed her brow, her confusion increasing by tenfold. “We do? What’s going on?”

What’s going on? That was a fairly reasonable question. So, naturally, it made Brooke clam up slightly. She frowned, running a hand through her hair as her best friend eyed her worriedly. Nora, ever the exuberant child, didn’t seem to notice the shift in the mood of the doorway, continuing to make grabby hands for her pseudo-aunt. The sight alone made a wave of tears flood Brooke’s eyes. In several months, there could be another baby around, but when it eventually made grabby hands at Brooke, it wouldn’t be for the comfort of an aunt. It would be for the touch of a mother.

Mother. Her. Brooke fucking Holliday, a mother. Those words didn’t seem to string together right. Motherhood looked great on Dak, but Brooke? It was hard to imagine. It was a concept that Brooke couldn’t even fathom, even though the plastic stick in her bag were telling her otherwise.

Dak spoke again, stepping closer to rest a gentle hand on her best friend’s arm. “Brooke?”

“I’m late, Dak,” Brooke admitted quietly. “I’m late.”

Dak, still ever the wide-eyed, innocent little church girl, stared at her best friend oddly. “For an appointment?”

Brooke groaned. “My period, Dak. I’m over two weeks late. I’ve never been this late in my life.”

“Oh,” Dak mumbled offhandedly, the information not truly sinking in. And then, once the realization kicked in, she sucked in a breath. “Oh. Brooke…are you…?” She trailed off, unable to find the words.

Voice thick with emotion, mostly just sadness and fear, Brooke said, “Unless the test I took is lying, yeah. Yeah, I am.”

She refused to say the word out loud. Pregnant. It was swirling around her head, battering off every corner of her brain like a pinball gone rogue, but she had yet to let it fall from her lips. Saying it out loud made it real and she was afraid. Making it real would be too much right now, especially when she had no idea what she was doing. Or feeling. Or hell, even thinking.

A part of Dakota wanted to smile. Her best friend was having a baby, that was such a wonderful thing. When she had found out about Nora, she and Fangs had been over the moon. The fact that her friend, a person she considered a second sister, was pregnant was exciting. But something on Brooke’s face told her that she was the only one who thought so.

“Are you not happy?” Dakota asked softly, rubbing Brooke’s arm. She adjusted the grip she had on Nora, a happy giggle pealing from the babbling child’s mouth.

“I just…I’m freaking the hell out, Dak. I mean, what the hell am I going to do? We didn’t plan this, it just happened and now it’s happening and I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do!”

Dak’s gaze softened at the blonde’s rant, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Have you told Sweet Pea?”

At the mention of her boyfriend, Brooke looked like she wanted to vomit. She shook her head no rapidly, blonde hair flying. “I-I can’t, I can’t do that. I haven’t even processed this fully, I came over here the second I stopped sobbing on the floor like a two-year-old. I…Dak, I just fucked up both of our lives. I don’t even know if he wants kids and I just went and got us pregnant!”

Dak squeezed Brooke’s arm then, shaking her head at her. “Hey, hey. Calm down, it’s going to be okay, we’ll figure everything out. Do you want some tea?”

Feeling somewhat like a distressed teenager with a fresh round of tears starting to burn behind her eyes, Brooke nodded as Dakota let her arm go, moving to wrap her arms around her again. The brunette stepped back and then aside to let her in before shutting the door behind them.

Dak led Brooke to the kitchen, getting her to sit before mumbling to give her a quick second. In the span of a few minutes, Dak disappeared into the apartment, easily finding her husband. Nora was quickly switched off into Fangs’s arms, who smiled lovingly at the sight of his two girls.

“How are my favorite girls?” he questioned, grinning brightly at his daughter pressing an exaggeratedly loud kiss on the baby’s face which caused Nora to giggle.

Dak smiled at him softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He beamed, the usual reaction he had to the woman in front of him, even after all these years. “Do you think you and Nora could stay in here for a little while?” she questioned.

Fangs’s happy gaze fell quickly, both at seeing Dakota’s distressed expression and at her request to stay out of the kitchen with Nora. “Is there a reason I’m being confined to the bedroom?”

“Brooke’s over,” Dakota replied simply, which only seemed to raise more questions than it answered.

“Is she okay?” Fangs questioned, brow knitting together in confusion. “She and Pea didn’t have another fight did they?”

Dak shook her head gently, giving her husband another small smile. “We’re just having girl talk and I think privacy is best,” she told him, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

And with that, Fangs was on board with staying in their bedroom with their little miracle.

Moments later, Dak was returning to Brooke, finding the blonde still sat at the kitchen table. She had her phone out, staring intently at the screen. Dak wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but she didn’t question what Brooke was doing. Instead, she opted to silently move around the kitchen, setting out to make the tea.

Minutes later, two steaming mugs were set on the table and a chair next to Brooke was pulled out and filled. Dakota pushed one of the mugs towards her friend, taking the other for herself. The brunette drew the mug back, taking a sip, contemplating her next words. How does one even begin to console a pregnant woman that might not even want to be pregnant?

She didn’t have to think much of an opening line, though, because Brooke was already speaking. “I don’t know how this happened,” she mumbled, taking a sip from her drink. “We have one tiny little accident. One. How is this happening?”

“Stuff like this happens all the time, Brooke,” Dakota replies tentatively.

Brooke didn’t answer for a moment. She knew Dak was right. People got pregnant all the time, whether they wanted to or not. The circle of life was a never-ending amalgamation of happy days and fuck yous. Brooke was certain her experience was the latter. In the grand scheme of things, this all felt like a sick joke. Like someone was playing a prank on her.

She groaned, letting her head fall forehead to gently rest on the tabletop. “What am I gonna do, Dak? Seriously? Yesterday I was deciding what kind of bagels I wanted to buy, cinnamon raisin or blueberry—spoiler alert I got both because I have zero impulse control—and now I have to think about having…having…”

“A baby,” Dakota supplied, figuring maybe a rip the band-aid off quickly approach would work best in this situation.

Brooke lifted her head, face paling again. “A baby,” she mumbled. And then her eyes filled with panic and she was crying out in frustration. “How the hell am I supposed to have a baby? This wasn’t apart of the plan!”

“What was the plan?” Dakota asked curiously.

“There wasn’t one!” Brooked cried out. “This wasn’t supposed to happen! Sweets and I aren’t you and Fangs, Dak. We’re not married, we didn’t name our children together after like, five months of dating—”

“We didn’t do that,” Dakota interjected, eyes wide and a minor blush smattering her cheeks. Her and Fangs weren’t that certain they were each other’s forever that early on.

“—How am I supposed to even bring this up to him? We’ve never even talked about longterm and now this is happening? What the fuck do I even say to him? Do I just go hey I just fucked up our lives by going and getting a fucking future child growing in my uterus? Think that’ll work? Does that sound like a good conversation starter?”

She said it wryly, bitterness flooding her tone. It was the same question she had posed to herself back at home, but back then there had been no one to go wide-eyed and look mildly appalled with her suggestion. But that’s where Dak came in.

At her friend’s statement, Dak’s eyebrows raised considerably before she was reaching out to cover Brooke’s hand with her own. “You didn’t mess up Brooke, okay? Being pregnant when you’re not planning for it is scary, it is. But you didn’t mess up, I can promise you that.”

Sadly, Brooke squeezed her eyes tightly, as if to hold back tears. If she let out a small, vulnerable whimper, Dakota didn’t mention it. Quietly, she mumbled, “Then why does it feel like I did?”

Dakota sighed, a knot forming in her stomach for her friend. It was clear as day that this wasn’t what Brooke wanted to happen. She bit her lip again, squeezing Brooke’s hand. There was a question she wanted to ask, one she wasn’t sure how to phrase in a sensitive enough manner. But Brooke was freaking out and it was just something that needed to be asked.

And so, softly, she questioned, “Do you want the baby?”

The question made Brooke visibly balk. Of course, it had been something she had been thinking of the second she realized she was late. Did she want the baby? This wasn’t something she could make an unsure decision on. She couldn’t hedge. This was quite possibly the biggest decision of her life, and it was hanging in the balance right now, mocking her.

She blew out a breath, running her free hand through her hair. “I don’t know? I told you, we didn’t plan this, we didn’t talk about it.”

“Okay, but what about how you feel about having a baby?”

Brooke looked at Dakota oddly. “I just told you?” she replied, though her answer sounded more like a question itself.

“You talked about you and Sweet Pea. But I asked how you feel about all of this. If you want this baby,” Dakota told her pointedly, but there was still an air of kindness. Dakota wasn’t trying to be rude, just trying to get a point across. “We can talk about everything, we can, but before you talk to him, you should decide if you want the baby or not. Then we can talk about Sweet Pea.”

The Holliday woman paused. In actuality, it made sense to think about what she wanted. She was the one who would deal with the majority of this, she would be the one who would potentially be carrying this pregnancy, not him. There were things specific to Brooke that would need to be thought out, things that didn’t necessarily include her boyfriend. And the biggest question indeed was the one that Dakota had posed.

Taking another sip of her tea, Brooke gave Dakota a half-hearted shrug. “I mean, maybe? Down the road I always assumed I might end up with a kid…but what if I just fuck it up? Clearly parenting doesn’t run well in my family.”

The statement was a dig at Brooke’s mother and mother alone. Her father had never been involved in her life, it had been Shannon who had taught Brooke that sometimes families sucked. She had gotten lucky in her junior year when Vivian Chambers had taken her in, when Dakota’s family had shown her the familial love she had been missing most of her life. Yet that didn’t negate the fact that Brooke had always been mildly afraid of becoming just like her mother.

Dakota gave Brooke a sigh. “Brooke, you’re not going to…” The brunette trailed off for a moment, looking mildly uncomfortable. “You’re not going to fuck it up.”

Brooke’s eyes went wide as she interjected, “Did you just say fuck? Jesus Christ, what is this, your second time?”

Dakota frowned at the obvious jab about her vocabulary which was far less colorful than the ones of her friends and husband. “Be quiet, I was only repeating what you said. And you’re not going to do anything wrong, you’d be an amazing mother. You’ve been such a good aunt to Nora every time you’ve babysat.”

“That’s not exactly the same thing,” Brooke pointed out. “I get to give Nora back at the end of the day when I watch her.”

“Okay,” Dak relented, thinking for a moment. “Look, think of it this way. Parenting is a learning curve. No one’s perfect at it, not even me and Fangs. Not my parents. Not anyone’s parents. The most important thing is that you want your child, that you love them, and that you’re willing to try for them.”

Try. Brooke figured this was the thing that her mother was missing. The will to try for her child. She wondered if she was different from Shannon in that regard. She hoped she was. Brooke had always had a capacity for love that was far greater than her mother’s, the older woman more akin to an unforgiving winter storm than a warm and caring presence.

At the end of the day, Brooke knew deep in her heart that her mother had never actually wanted a child…maybe at first. But once she was born? No, too much had gone wrong for Shannon Holliday by then. From the time of conception to birth, her entire world had spun on its axis far too rapidly, had changed her. Had hardened her. By then, she hadn’t really wanted Brooke.

But Brooke…Brooke could be different. And so, she was brought back to Dakota’s original question. Did she want a baby, this baby? Her baby.

A baby. A whole new life that she could bring into the world. This wasn’t a situation to take lightly, it wasn’t something that she could just sweep under the rug and hope it would go away.

There was a terrifying side to this. She’d be a mom. She’d be responsible for an entire person. The thought made her skin crawl. How the fuck was she meant to be a mom now? Again, her mom hadn’t been the greatest. Cold. Detached. The kind of woman who kicked her own daughter out, the kind of woman who ruined her entire relationship with her only child based on things that had happened well into the past. What if Brooke did become like Shannon? What if she fucked this kid up like Shannon fucked her up? She couldn’t handle that kind of responsibility.

But…there was also a side to it that didn’t scare a part of her as much as she thought it should. Again, she wasn’t picturing being a mom now. She pictured that if she ever was to have a child, it would be later down the road. But the thing was, Brooke loved Sweet Pea and as much as she had never admitted it out loud to anyone, let alone Sweet Pea himself, she had always imagined that particular future with him. She imagined every future with him. They may not have discussed long-term, but she knew there wasn’t anything else she wanted. He was it for her.

And because of that, there was a small part of her—one that was small, yet battling strongly against her unbridled fear—that tried to imagine it. A little baby, with tanned skin and a head of dark hair, dark eyes and a familiar smile…well, its created an entirely different response than the one she had figured she would give. Somewhere, there was a tiny part of her that knew if there was even the slightest chance that this child could end up being a little version of the man she had loved since she was seventeen, well that was a whole different ballgame.

She sat there, sipping her drink, mapping out everything in her mind the best that she could. Everything would change drastically, it was up to her whether it was for the better or not. She tried to picture herself, month by month, carrying this child. Feeling the baby kick. Hearing its heartbeat. Doctor appointments, only the beginning of a lifetime of expenses. She pictured holding the baby after the birth, and if she pictured a healthy baby boy that looked far too much like Sweet Pea…well, no one was there to judge her inner thoughts.

Birthdays. Starting school. Little league games or dance recitals or science fairs or whatever the child wanted to do. Scraped knees and tears and happy giggles and family adventures and memories that Brooke herself never got with her mom. She could be the mother she never had. Sweet Pea could be the parent that he never had. Brooke tried to imagine it, her whole life with him and the baby that she could bring into the world if she chose to.

She knew she had options. She knew some things could be done, measures that could be taken that could undo what had happened. Choices. A world of choices that could—no, would change everything. She knew, at the end of the day, she had options.

Options that got exactly three seconds of consideration. It made her sick to her stomach thinking about it, even more so than she already was. It was an option that was good for other people, it was an option that everyone should have the right to consider. But Brooke knew that it wasn’t the option she could go with. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t.

She had pictured her possible child. She had imagined her life changing. She had seen for what she wanted it to be, for what it could be. And in a matter of moments, it felt like the world had shifted. She was still terrified to her core. The air of uncertainty was still thick and suffocating around her. It was etched into every facet of her being.

But there was no going back now. How could there be, when she had painted such a future in her head? Brooke Holliday, for the first time since she had realized that she was late, was pretty sure that she wanted this baby. Sweet Pea’s baby. Their baby. If there was a universe where they could be happy forever, with this child, she wanted it. She wanted it so fucking badly, despite never having given it any thought before this day.

Alarm slammed into her all once, the door to every panicked thought flying off its hinges at her internal admittance. While it was important that she be on board with this pregnancy, it didn’t necessarily mean Sweet Pea would. Doubt began to cloud her mind, hitting her full force as she tried to realize what this could mean for them.

What if this changed not only everything with their lives but amongst them as well?

Her eyes fell shut to try and ward off the burgeoning tears that were beginning to form and she leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath. A hand once again reached up to tangle itself in her hair as she tried to figure how she’d gone from seeing this as the end of everything to wanting this.

“Brooke?” Dak asked suddenly, making the blonde realize she had been silent for a long while. Her eyes flew up, locking with those of her best friend, who looked concerned. “Did you hear me?”

“Oh, um, no. Sorry, I was just…thinking about everything,” Brooke replied, her hand slipping from her hair to run across her face. “Everything’s going to change isn’t it?”

Dakota didn’t reply for a moment. She stared at Brooke, eyes flitting across her features, the gears in her head spinning. It felt like she was staring right through her, right into her mind. Once upon a time, Brooke had been able to read Dakota like an open book, and for once, it seemed as if Dakota was returning the favor. She could see the wave of emotions that Brooke was enduring in an instant, and she pursed her lips together.

So instead of answering the question that Brooke had posed, she gave one of her own.

“You want to keep it, don’t you?”

“…I think I do.” It was no louder than a whisper, but it was spoken all the same.

And like a dam bursting, the tears burned behind her eyes and pooled amongst her lashes began streaming down Brooke’s face. Dakota was beside her in an instant, her chair screeching against the floor as she scooted over to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Brooke cried against Dakota’s shoulders, again for herself, for Sweet Pea, and for some future path that was now gated off to her with her newfound want.

“It’s okay,” Dakota whispered, the words spoken against the blonde’s hair. “It’s going to be okay, Brooke, I promise. Everything will work out.”

“I’m fucking terrified, Dak,” Brooke whimpered in between two choked sobs. Her earlier worries came back full force, spilling out of her mouth. “I can’t do this without him, but what if this ruins everything? What if I’m right and I screwed up his entire life?”

Dakota had had enough. Pulling back, she placed both hands on Brooke’s shoulders, looking the girl dead in the eye. Dakota can see her fear clear as day, a wretched thing seeping into the tears that gloss over her eyes. “Brooke, listen to me. You didn’t screw up his life, stop saying that! Having a baby is a blessing and if he doesn’t realize that, well then that’s his loss.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Dakota interrupted. “You don’t know how he feels about this, okay? You don’t, because you’ve never talked about it. You just need to talk to him, Brooke. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear the news! He loves you, okay? He loves you so much and having a baby with you should make him the happiest man on the planet.”

A part of Brooke knew this was true. He did love her, as much as she loved him. There had been trials and tribulations along the way, just like there were for every relationship, but they had gotten through them. She had seen past what everyone else had, had seen him for who he truly was. And in return, he had done the same for her. She had loved him wholeheartedly since she had been seventeen and there had never been a doubt in her mind that he loved her just as much since then.

And yet, one immense and paralyzing fear still filled her. One she let slip through her lips in a broken whisper. “…What if he leaves?”

The moment the words left her lips, she knew she wasn’t right. He wouldn’t just leave. He thrived on loyalty, had that trait coursing through him immensely. Brooke had always admired that about him. Once you got close to Sweet Pea, once he let you see past the bloodied knuckles and the switchblades and the anger, he was loyal to you until you gave him a reason not to be. He wouldn’t just up and leave her, he wouldn’t leave her alone. Not now.

She knew this. And Dakota knew it, too. Knew that her husband’s best friend was quite possibly the best person for her best friend. But she still found herself answering the brokenhearted question. “…Then he’s not the one for you.”

Truly, Brooke knew she was right. If Sweet Pea did want to leave once she revealed the pregnancy to him, then that just meant that they weren’t right for each other. She knew that the chances of that happening were slim to none, but it still caused fear to ache in her bones. Fear that he was the best she was ever going to get. Fear that she was going to raise a child alone, just like her mother.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do if he’s not,” Brooke mumbled, a whimper escaping her lips.

She felt like a blubbering two-year-old as Dakota once again brought her into her arms. The brunette was shushing her, repetitions of it’s going to be okay falling from her lips at a steady rate. The more she felt Brooke shake from her tears, the tighter she held her. She hadn’t seen the blonde fall apart like this in a long time. It was jarring and it felt like someone was tugging harshly on Dakota’s heartstrings as she heard every hiccup and sob and sniffle.

As the two friends clung to each other in the small kitchen of the Fogarty’s apartment, Dakota let a fierce promise fall from her lips. “We can figure that out together, okay? You and me.”

You and me. That’s the way it had always been for them. Brooke held onto her a little tighter.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

Despite having been calmed down and less teary-eyed by the time she left the Fogarty’s, Brooke Holliday was still undoubtedly freaking out. She had left the couple’s place well over an hour ago and was finally back in her own home, cuddled up on the couch with a thick blanket. Dakota had left her with multiple promises on top of you and me, including a vow that Sweet Pea would be ecstatic. Dakota didn’t see how he couldn’t be—he was going to have a baby with Brooke. Nothing should make him happier.

Brooke, however, saw things a little differently. While she was trying to maintain hopeful and adamant that he wouldn’t leave her to do this on her own, wouldn’t throw away all of their years together over this, she was still scared shitless.

Her head rested against one of her hands, elbow propped up against the arm of the couch as some mindless reality show played on the television set in the corner. She was staring off into space, eyes fixed on a chip in the wall’s paint. On her lap, her other hand was clutching onto the bright green, slightly matted fur of a small stuffed frog. She’d had since the summer before senior year, from the weekend away that she, Sweet Pea, Dakota, and Fangs had taken. After everything with the Black Hood, the Gargoyle King, the Fizzle Rocks, Tall Boy’s death, the Farm…they had needed to get out of town.

The place they had ended up in for their small vacation had had a carnival that very weekend and the frog in her lap had been won on one of the games at the fair. Sweet Pea had tried for one of the big ones, hoping to win her a giant stuffed animal like Fangs had gotten for Dak. He’d only managed to win one of the small ones, but honestly, Brooke had never beamed brighter. That stuffed frog had stayed with her for the rest of high school, an object of comfort she carried way into early adulthood.

Right now, it just made her wary of what was to come once he came walking through those doors.

She felt like she waited for what was a century. Knowing that she could back out now, couldn’t gloss over everything that had happened earlier. She needed to face this head-on, needed to tell him exactly what was happening. What was going to happen.

In actuality, she didn’t have to wait too long. By the time the second hour of the reality show arrived, the lock on the door to her shared home with Sweet Pea began to make noises, indicative of someone on the other side with a key. Brooke could feel her muscles tense and stiffen and she swore she felt herself stop breathing for a moment. If there wasn’t another life inside of her, she was certain she’d be guzzling a glass of wine from her nerves. Instead, she gripped the plush fabric of her stuffed frog.

The door opened, Sweet Pea slipping through as he did most nights after work. He looked tired, there were grease stains on his hands, and his worn down Serpent jacket sat proudly on his shoulders. Shutting the door behind him, he let out a small yawn before his eyes briefly fell on his girlfriend seated on the couch.

“Hey, princess,” he greeted easily, slipping his jacket on to hang on the hooks by the door before ambling over to the couch to sit down beside her. “How was your—what the fuck happened?”

The second he sat down and really, truly looked at her, he saw it all. The tear tracks on her face, the puffy redness of her eyes, the quiver of her bottom lip. It was evident all over her face and it immediately set off red alarms in his mind.

Crying Brooke and Sweet Pea had never exactly gotten along. Sure, he’d learned how to comfort her when she was upset along the way, but there was nothing more unsettling than watching her cry. It made him deeply uncomfortable, not wanting to see her upset. And so, instantly, his mood went from moderately happy and tired to uncomfortable, concerned, and slightly angered at whoever had possibly made her upset.

When she didn’t answer, a frown etched its way across his lips and he scooted closer to her. Attempting to hold her, his arms began to go out to circle around her, but he stopped when he noticed her tense even further. Brow furrowing, he paused, arms dropping back to his side.

“Brooke?”

A shaky breath escaped her lips and she squeezed the stuffed animal tighter, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment. When she opened them again, she felt like she was going to shatter at the expression on his face. He was undoubtedly concerned, but she could see a glimmer of confusion and maybe even a little bit of hurt that she hadn’t instantly melted into his arms. And she wanted to, God, she wanted to. But she was freaking out and she was sure that there was nothing that he could do to quell the fear in her bones, in her veins, in every ounce of her being.

The silence was deafening. It covered them like a blanket, a growing discomfort in the air as he watched her try to find the words to start this conversation. What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to phrase this? Were there any right words to start this off?

There was also the fact of the matter that she was terrified of his response. Putting this out there, between them, meant he’d react. And there was nothing more worrisome to her than how he was going to take the news that she was carrying his child, that she’d already decided that this baby was what she wanted.

God, she should have asked for more advice on this during her tea slash cry slash panic session with Dakota.

“Okay, you’re gonna need to say something, princess, because you’re freaking me out,” Sweet Pea told her after another long moment. “Did something happen? Did someone do something to you? Because I swear to God I’ll gladly beat the shit out of anyone who thinks they can—”

“No!” Brooke exclaimed, the sound coming out quickly and loudly. She shook her head frantically, blonde hair fanning out around her. “No one did anything.”

There was a second of pause before he nodded, content with her answer. His eyebrow quirked up before a wry smile covered his lips. “So she speaks.”

A humorless chuckle escaped her lips, sounding slightly wet from all the crying she’d been doing on and off. “So she does. Pea, I…I need to talk to you about something. Something really important.”

He nodded. “Okay, yeah, sure. What’s up, princess?” Sweet Pea slung an around on the back of the couch, resting above her shoulders, but not directly touching her.

She sat silently for a moment, trying to figure out her next words. Brooke had so much she wanted to say, so many things she wanted to convey, but it was like every single word she knew was evading her. Her lips parted and shut a few times, a sure sign of someone who didn’t know what they were going to say.

It was frustrating, not knowing how to get the words out. And it was frustrating, knowing that the P-word was eventually going to be used and it was like her entire vocal system just shut down at the thought of it. She let out an annoyed sigh, staring down at her lap, before deciding to backtrack her starting point, back to where this whole thing had started.

“Pea, do you remember the night after we saw that really shitty movie? And we decided to fool around after?”

His eyes lit up in recognition quickly enough, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I don’t think I’ll be able to forget it after the sounds you were making.”

Despite the situation at hand, Brooke rolled her eyes. Of course that would be the main star of his memory of that night. “No, I’m talking about afterward. When we realized that the condom broke?”

It took a second before he was nodding in remembrance, but Brooke could tell he still hadn’t pieced it together. He was looking at her in confusion, nodding slightly as if to tell her to go on. Brooke tried giving him a look, hoping that she could still convey her meaning even with her bloodshot eyes. But it was to no avail, his eyes didn’t light up in understanding, there was no lightbulb moment here.

And so, frustration and sadness and fear taking over her, she reached under the blanket covering her lap, fishing around until her fingers met cold plastic. A new batch of tears began to pool in her eyes, setting off an alarm in Sweet Pea as he watched her with a careful gaze. Without words, Brooke pulled the object out into view, thrusting the test right into Sweet Pea’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, voice broken.

He gave her an odd look, accepting the little stick that she handed him. The arm behind her head pulled back as the man opted to grip the tiny little stick with both hands. He looked down at it, face scrunching when he realized what it was. And then, Brooke was certain that she could pinpoint the exact second that the world stopped for him.

Once it had become clear what he was holding and what the little lines under the plastic window meant, his face fell slack. His eyes widened, mouth popping open ever so slightly. She could hear him suck in a deep breath.

Brooke wished she knew what he was thinking. She wondered what was the very first thought that ran through his head when he understood what the test meant. Did he have that little moment of oh that she did in the bathroom this morning? Or was his more aligned with an oh fuck moment? Was he excited? Scared? Angry? She didn’t know and she couldn’t tell, his face void of every emotion besides shock.

Brooke wanted to speak, tell him to say something, anything, but she couldn’t bring herself to talk. All she could do was sit there and wait.

“ This…” Sweet Pea started quietly, trailing off, unsure what to say. “Are you…?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“And it’s—”

“If you seriously ask me if it’s yours, I’m going to hit you,” she said, cutting him off with a biting tone. He’d been her first and her only, there was no fucking way it was anyone else’s.

He swallowed thickly, before shaking his head. “I was gonna ask if it was right. That you’re sure? You’re…I mean, how the fuck did this happen?”

His tone wasn’t angry, but his words made her flinch nonetheless. In a small voice, she replied, “I told you already. The condom broke, Pea. We thought it would be fine, but clearly it wasn’t.”

“But that was only one time, I mean, how can one broken condom end up like this?” he questioned her, voice rising ever so slightly.

Her bottom lip quivered a bit before she repeated what Dakota had told her earlier. “Stuff like this happens all the time.”

“Yeah, but…I mean…fuck,” he groaned loudly, slamming the test on the small coffee table so hard Brooke thinks it’s going to crack down the middle. He turned away from her, running a hand through his dark hair for a second before standing and pacing a few steps. Sweet Pea turned back to her, exasperated. “I mean, you’re having my fucking kid because one fucking condom broke?”

To Sweet Pea, it seemed like a reasonable question. How the hell could one tiny little slip up create such a large situation? But to Brooke, it felt like all of her fears were falling into place. He was mad. He was upset with her. They fucked up. They fucked up. This baby was screwing up his life.

She started fiddling with the blanket on her lap, beginning to shake her head at him. Tears were dripping down her cheeks at a steady rate, like tiny little streams against the flushed skin.

Brooke began speaking then, words just falling from her lips without abandon, “Look, I know that we never talked about this, but we can’t do anything about it now, okay? I didn’t ask for this either and I’m sorry, I didn’t want this to happen especially when I don’t even know if you want a family with me or kids at all. I’m sorry. But Pea, please, I can’t do this by myself.”

Sweet Pea moved closer to her, prepared to say something else when her words fully sank in. He froze in his movements. She had said she couldn’t do this by herself. In a way, Brooke was asking him to stay.

I can’t do this by myself.

She thought he was going to leave her.

Within mere moments, the entire vibe of the room had changed. Brooke was still on the couch looking up at him, fear swimming in the tears in her eyes. But Sweet Pea…her words felt like a slap in the face. He visibly recoiled, hurt flooding his features. She thought he was going to leave…why the fuck would she think that?

“Did…did you think I was going to leave?”

Everything in Brooke was screaming to say no. Her heart was screaming no. She knew she didn’t think that, she knew would never in a million years think he would leave her. But the problem was, her head was saying something completely different. While her heart wanted to believe that they would be okay, that this baby was something that would bring them closer together, her head was pragmatical as ever—probably a side effect of being friends with Jughead Jones for so long.

While her heart was holding onto the hope that they’d be okay, her head believed otherwise. Her head was being constricted by fear, forced to see paths that she didn’t want to believe were true. Her head was telling her that, although she loved him, there was never a promise of forever. That anything good can be destroyed in the blink of an eye. And it was for those reasons that her head and her heart were at war.

For when did anyone’s head and heart ever see eye to eye?

Her silence was confirmation enough and again, Sweet Pea felt like she had struck him across the face. His eyes narrowed at her, anger beginning to pulse through him. After everything they’d been through…after everything, this is what she thought of him?

“What, so because both of my parents decided to fuck off, you just figured I’d do the same thing?” he snapped at her, voice bitter and rising with every word.

It wasn’t the first time he’d raised his voice around her, but it was the first time that he wasn’t met with her raising her voice back. They’d had fights before, some nastier than others, but it was never just him shouting into the void, looking like a complete asshole. But this only made Brooke cry harder. A pathetic whimper slipped through her lips as he continued to look at her with a gaze that she hadn’t been on the receiving end since Jughead first ran The Gauntlet.

She hated it. She hated him looking at her like that. It was her fault he was. If she had just said no, if she had just had fucking faith in him, this wouldn’t be happening. Sweets was loyal to a fault, he wouldn’t leave her high and dry like this. They weren’t their parents, they couldn’t be.

Not now, not ever.

When she didn’t answer him, it only seemed to make him that much more mad. And when Sweet Pea got angry, he handled it one of two ways: venom tinged words or blood-tinged violence. His next words to her were spoken with such frustration that it caused Brooke to wince.

“I mean, I know I can be an asshole sometimes, but you actually think I’d just follow in my parents' footsteps? Just leave you and my fucking kid behind? Because newsflash Brooke, your mom was a fucking bitch to you, too. If you’re anything like her, then that kid better be prepared to get kicked out of their fucking house at sixteen!”

“Look, I’m scared, okay?” Brooke yelled out then, her voice wet and the sound akin to a sob. He froze, eyes flitting to her. “I didn’t want this to happen okay, but it did and there’s nothing we can do about it, okay? I’m pregnant. I am and it’s your baby. And I’m having this baby and I’m so afraid of everything that it means. I’m fucking terrified and all I know is I need you with me for this, Sweet Pea, I really fucking need you.”

Her knees dragged up, her arms wrapping around them tightly as she buried her face into the fabric of the blanket. She needed him. She couldn’t do this alone. It didn’t matter if Dakota said they would figure it out. It was a lovely promise, but it wasn’t from the person she wanted to hear it from. She loved Dakota, but it was nothing compared to how fiercely she felt for Sweet Pea. Nothing could be compared to how badly she wanted him for the rest of her life, how badly she wanted them to have this child along for the ride with them.

Brooke heard the floor creak before she felt the couch dip down beside her. Strong arms wrapped around her tightly and she was tugged into his chest, head pressed right up against his heart. Sweet Pea’s grip only seemed to tighten when he could feel her cry against him, feel the wetness of her tears instantly soaking through the fabric of his shirt. In a second, all of the anger he had felt for her moments ago had been shoved backward, concern taking the foreground. Brooke had looked as if she was breaking apart in front of him and that had done him in. He hated her thought process, hated what she assumed, but in the end, his love for her would always outweigh all of that.

They’d figure out everything else later. Not right now. Right now, he’d hold her as long as she needed. Anything to get her to stop crying, to stop shaking in his arms. Fights and discussions and all that other bullshit could wait.

His lips pressed into her hair, kisses pressed firmly against the crown of her head. He felt her struggle against him for a moment, but any concern he felt at that melted away when he felt her arms wrap around his torso as tightly as he held her.

“I need you with me on this,” she mumbled into his chest.

Another kiss was pressed against her head before words were whispered against her hair. Two sentences, eight words. Everything she wanted to hear from him at that moment, in such small words with such large meaning. A promise.

“You and me, princess. It’s you and me.”

#sweet pea x oc #minor fangs fogarty x oc #riverdale fic #brooke holliday x sweet pea #sweetbrooke #brooke holliday x dakota chambers #challiday #adult!challiday #dakota chambers #friends ocs #amanda's crossovers #amanda writes #also fair warning #i'm a nursing student so i know the mechanics of pregnancy #but not the mindset so like #do with that what you will

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nightcoremoon · 6 years

Text

Callout post: me

lying, manipulative, hold grudges, constantly paranoid, would absolutely 100% check out a teenager if nobody was looking because "it's a harmless crime", liar, cycle through idealization and devaluation, 'sick of fat people trying to be the next civil rights issue and making it that much harder to get civil rights for people who are ACTUALLY oppressed like gee idk poc and muslims and the mentally ill and queer people', frequently fantasizes about committing violent acts against people I rationalize they deserve it including family members, untruthful, attention whore, pedantic AND pretentious, tells lies, doesn't believe in one sister's claim of sexual assault (went to smoke weed with the alleged perpetrator), UNAPOLOGETICALLY AGAINST ASEXUAL EXCLUSIONISM (LITERALLY FUCK YOU DUMBASS FOURTEEN YEAR OLDS WHO SHRIEK THAT QUEER IS A SLUR, SHUT YOUR GODDAM FUCKING WHORE MOUTHS YOU DUMBASSES AND GO THE FUCK OUTSIDE OR READ A BOOK), would absolutely punch a child over an insignificant internet argument, secretly sought out sexual pleasure from two friendly seemingly platonic encounters with two girls I just met within twenty four hours, overreacts to the slightest provocations and has bitches at or vagueposted at several people who did not deserve it, has used mental illness and physical handicap to evade trouble from being late for work because video games and laziness and excessive sleep, has spent maybe a thousand dollars on fast food in 2018 alone, evades bills for medical care from an actually great clinic, lying sack of garbage, gave up on calling out family's bigotry and is now an accessory to prejudice, despises terfs predominantly for their refusal to fuck me because of being trans and yet meanwhile would not engage in sexual relationship with another trans woman or cis man unless reeeeeeeeally drunk, can and will blame being sexually assaulted as a child which probably didn't even happen because I don't think I remember it, unabashed furry, probably as addicted to video games and masturbation AND LIES as I almost was to alcohol, pretended to have almost been an alcoholic just to "win" facebook arguments about addiction, doesn't give a fuck my dad almost died from heroin JUST because he's a *little* homophobic and racist and classist and xenophobic because of a christian upbringing, would literally fucking murder him if he EVER PUTS HIS HANDS ON ME AGAIN, only slightly depressed because of laziness and a lack of drive and ungrateful to my family because hey they didn't kick me out for being trans so HEY THATS SUPPORTIVE ENOUGH FOR SOME OTHER PEOPLE SO WHY CANT I BE HAPPY WITH THAT, legitimately salty about ~the friendzone~ and just makes fun of incels because everybody else does, takes the moral high ground for not being a misogynist even though I don't deserve a pat on the back a lap dance and a blowjob for not hating women, overly sensitive about stupid things, thinking about faking having a trigger warning for more discourse credit, HUUUGE ASSHOLE to men I deem unattractive for no other reason than every single ugly fat guy I've ever met has been an asshole, rationalizes it after the fact because they eventually say something shitty because all men are terrible, probably a little bit of a cisnormative misandrist because trans men tend to be much better people, finds trans men attractive (specifically and significantly more so than cis men) so must clearly be fetishizing them, relatively okay with people referring to me as deadnamed and the wrong pronouns so probably just lying about being trans to everyone including myself, not 100% okay with the hijab for 'no reason other than all organized religion is evil and opposed to its mandate and the shame it forces on many women in many situations the exact same way I'm opposed to no sex before marriage and wives being subservient to their husbands and treating women as property in the torah and quran alike because ITS ALL BRAINWASHING' so is clearly not unlearning islamophobia and doesn't want to let that go, hypocrite because I believe in the basics of judeochristianity

and loathe atheism and atheists entirely because their smugness and smarm literally sets my blood pressure through the roof of what is safe and normal and yet claim to hate all organized religion, mansplains yet gets so pissed off when other people mansplain to me, judgmental of other cultures because they don't have the exact same values that I have, james gunn apologist, talks and talks and talks about anarchosocialism all damn day but would beat the shit out of a coworker for leaving me to do things because they're lazy because "any job worth doing is worth doing well" and other capitalismisms, literally couldn't give less of a fuck that his mother is dying because people die but it's no reason to make my life slightly harder and making me work hard when I work because BOO HOO MY LEGS HURT FROM THE LITERALLY MOST MILD CASE OF MUSCULAR DYSTROPHY I COULD'VE BEEN BORN WITH, hasn't actually performed real suicide attempt ever but still claims to have done so to attain sympathy that may result in physical affection, countless other shitty terrible things that yeah I recognize are bad but CANT SEEM TO CARE BECAUSE I HAVE DEPRESSION... WHICH IS THE WEAKEST FUCKING EXCUSE IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE GODDAMN WORLD

I am not a good person, okay?

I just pretend to be sometimes.

I'm sick of doing it, I'm sick of trying to do well and earn people's approval by doing and saying the right things only to just be ignored which is a step up from receiving many anons that hey, never actually told me to kill myself, but did take my words out of context to paint me as a racist. I am not the kind of racist who would vote for trump and march with the kkk. that is one of very few good things I can say about myself. but I'm an arrogant, violent, and angry opinionated perverted manipulative judgmental lying asshole. I'm not a good person. I have let myself fall so much and I deserve to be alone. my only connections to people were built on personal gain and I swear to myself that I do love them but those feelings fall away in direct correlation to how much they interact with me. I could love you to the point of obsession and stalking and one month later be completely and totally disinterested. I'm a bigot who pretends to not be bigoted and just parrots what other people say not because I believe it but because it's the right thing to say, and I only say what the right thing is to say because whenever I say a good thing something good will happen to me and if I say a bad thing something bad happens to me. it's all just self preservation, nothing else at all. but now I'm at the end of a road of just trying to do good and I'm alone. out of the only two friends that I can really say that I have left, one is far away and trapped in a guilt spiral that I caused by being too clingy, and the other has been behaving in a way my mind has decoded as defensive around me which makes sense as I have been very... the best way to describe it would be the way a dudebro incel interacts with any person who possesses a vagina/breasts but sneakier. in both relationships I've pushed my own wants and desires in extremis... I can't for the life of me recall the last time I have ever offered something in return other than my own company or paying for a meal at a restaurant or I guess transportation. and instead of sex I just want them to express even the slightest bit of intimate platonic physical affection towards me but that's still a lot to offer someone who has clearly expressed the existence of a sexual and maybe something near the realms of romantic in one of the cases physical attraction because for this aspec it's practically the same fucking thing.

and I've manipulated them to attain this goal. at this point my shit brain has considered just fucking going to town on my wrists with a razor blade to draw sympathy so that I'll get a hug or something beyond just a simply hello/goodbye, and finding a way to induce tears to concoct a sob story to reach the same end result, and one time very briefly via threat and intimidation so you can clearly see that I've gone far too into irredeemable territory. I've been playing and replaying cry of fear because it's just too similar to my own issues and the first ending where he just kills everyone he loves and then himself... I see me in that ending. and it scares me so much more than the sprinting screaming twitching one hit kill chainsaw guy ever will. I don't want that to be me, I want to change something, but I just can't get the help that I need. I had hoped to go for a domino effect, where if I could be cuddled for like five minutes or something, I'd have the energy to be more hygienic, which would make me feel capable enough to take on two jobs, which would get me the cash flow I need to pay my bills and take care of my hormones, which would put me in the headspace necessary to effectively use psychological help, which would let me get over my illnesses and actually become a more successful person instead of the pathetic husk I am here in non-fantasy land.

but that won't happen.

I'm just sitting here in the dark angsting about how nobody will touch me in a way that would produce oxytocin, and it's making me so sick, so physically sick, that it's affecting my brain too. I'm in pain, nauseous, vengeful, spiteful, paranoid, judgmental, and lonely. I'm stuck and I can't even kill myself because my mind wants me to stay alive and suffer through all of this because "oh it gets better" people have been saying that for well over half of my life. I was six or seven years old when I asked my mother to kill me, and that same level of desperation and bitterness has only gotten worse as time goes by. when does it get better? I'll tell you when it gets better, after I'm in prison or comatose or forty five years old with a cane and bad eyes and high blood pressure and lung cancer from all the secondhand smoke I've breathed in my life. when my life is over, that's when it gets better. I DONT WANT THAT. I WANT A NORMAL FUCKING LIFE RIGHT NOW. I WANT NORMAL FRIENDSHIPS AND A NORMAL HOME AND A NORMAL EDUCATION AND A NORMAL CAREER AND A NORMAL FAMILY. or at least I want someone to hold me and make me feel like I'm not so horrible and broken that I can't be touched.

but that's too much to ask for.

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lovenerdywinnerbouquetfan-blog · 6 years

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