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all1e23 · 4 years

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Powdered Sugar

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Boston didn’t come without repercussions.

Warnings: A bit angsty, but Bucky is all love sick if that helps.

A/N: It’s a shorter chapter but it’s still important and it sets up where our slightly dumb couple is headed. I tried to grab everyone who asked for a tag recently if I missed you please let me know and I’ll add you. This is the fourth part of my series Sugary Sweet. Make sure you catch up!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!***

It felt good to be home. Every time Bucky’s left New York and came back, it made him realize how much this city really was home. Now you were part of that. You were home. It had been five days since you left Bucky to fend for himself in Boston. On the morning of your flight, he got up before the sun was and drove you to the airport. He kissed you for fifteen minutes in front of the airport security check-in and nearly made you late for your flight; he couldn't help it. He hated being away from you, and knowing it would be days before he could hold you again, he might have gone a little overboard — Bucky wanted to make sure you wouldn’t forget about him before he made it back to Brooklyn and to you.

Steve handed over three folded bills to the cashier behind the counter and took two paper cups of coffee, passing one to Bucky. It was their first day back in the office since closing the deal with Carol, and Bucky was having trouble focusing on his job for the first time in his life. He desperately wanted to ditch work and spend the rest of the day in bed with you, but he had a company to run, and he had to be a grown-up.

As Steve reminded him, all damn day.

“So, what’s going on with you and Y/n? You both were... different in Boston.”

“I don’t know Stevie. That last night…” Bucky shook his head and stared at the white plastic lid over his coffee, he couldn’t explain it — there were no words to describe how he felt about you and what happened this past week only made things more confusing.

“It was different. She said I was her stupid, and things were just different from how they usually are. The way we were with each other... I dunno, man.”

Steve was quiet for a long beat before he looked at Bucky with a small grimace he asked, “You’re excited because she called you stupid? I call you stupid all the time.”

“No, it wasn’t like that—”

“Sam constantly calls you dumb. All the time. I have to separate you two—”

“Steve!’ Bucky groaned and shoved Steve away from him. He was not in the mood. He was already grumpy because he wouldn't get to see you until the Stark Gala, and now Steve was pissing him off with the dumb questions.

“She said my stupid. It’s the ‘my’ part I was talkin’ about, dumbass. She called me hers, and it wasn’t the first time, either.”

“What else did she say?” Steve urged with a wide grin.

Bucky felt his cheeks pink, and his ears were burning. He cleared his throat and grumbled through a forced cough. “Uh, she called me her… fella.”

Steve chuckled and bumped Bucky’s shoulder with his. If Sam were there, he probably would have teased him over the pet name, but Steve didn’t. He liked seeing Bucky this happy, and Steve knew it was all thanks to you. He wasn’t about to cheapen Bucky’s feelings by teasing him over a silly name.

“You’re in deep, aren’t you?” Steve asked, already knowing the answer, and Bucky grinned and told him honestly, “Yeah, I think I am, Stevie.”

Bucky fished his phone out of his pocket, with all this talk, and he realized he hadn’t heard from you yet today. This was a sign. Boston was the push he needed. He needed to stop this nonsense, and tell you what he wanted, tell you where he wanted your relationship to go. He was going to tell you what’s on his heart at the Stark Gala — he was done playing around. You had to know he was all in, but if you wanted to keep things the way they were, he could be okay with that. He will stick around for as long as you’ll have him because he was already in love with you.

It was going to hurt when you leave him no matter what, you should at least know how he felt when you do walk away.

You arrived home nearly six days ago, and from the moment you stepped through the door, you refused to talk about the trip or Bucky. There wasn’t a moment of that trip you wanted to relive — even the good parts, it would only make the bad parts more painful. Pretending as if the terrible, awful, wonderful week never happened was the only way you could clean up the mess you made of your heart.

Of course, it would be easier to forget if your roommate minded her own business, and she wouldn’t let it go.

Every time Natasha asked you a question about Boston or Bucky, you evaded. You would change the subject back to her or offer to buy dinner, and Clint would change the topic for you — the pizza or Chinese debate always bought you an hour. Natasha would only put up with that for so long, though. There was no way you could keep that up forever, and you knew that, but you couldn’t get the words out even if you wanted to.

It hurt. You needed distance between you and the damage that was done — if you were going to find a way to repair it.

This morning, you sat at the counter spoon hanging loosely from your hand, spinning your cereal as you stared at your phone in your other hand. You had been like this since you opened Instagram, sitting and gawking at your phone. You couldn’t eat. All you could do was stare. Not after you saw what Sam posted. Most of his additions were of the boys and usually picking on Bucky, but the latest picture was what caught your attention. It looked like it was their last night in Boston, and Carol was smushed between the men.

Against your better judgment, your thumb took on a life of its own and clicked her profile. Carol had reposted Sam’s original image, but there was another photo that made a green monster stir in your chest. The look of their attire said it was towards the end of the night, jackets had been shed, and hair was let down— it was only her and Bucky this time.

Bucky had been caught mid-laugh, glowing smirk and little eye crinkles in captured in Mayfair or whatever the hell filter she deemed was best to highlight your boyfriend— Bucky. He was not your boyfriend. Carol's arm was linked in Bucky's, and she was gazing at him adoringly, but it was the caption that had your hackles raised.

Can you believe no one has snatched this man up? He’s more than just a pretty face, let me tell you. Sweet like you wouldn’t believe and knows how to negotiate. Can’t wait to start working with this stud.

“Why don’t you snatch him up?”

You jumped at the sound of Natasha’s voice coming from over your shoulder and dropped your phone to the counter, narrowly missing your bowl of milk. You hated it when she did that.

“Seriously?” You whined loudly. “I told you not sneak up on me!”

“Sorry. I said your name three times, but you were busy staring at your phone like it was going to turn into something. So, did you snatch him up?”

You shook your head, letting her know you didn’t want to talk about it, but you had to say something. It had been days since it all went down, and she would find out eventually. It was better she found out now before Bucky tired of you and found someone else. You slid off the stool to drop your bowl in the sink. Your cheerios were soggy anyway.

“No, I didn’t, and no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Y/n, what happened--”

“He doesn’t want to be snatched up, okay? Least of all by me.”

Natasha watched you dump your breakfast in the trash and pour your glass of orange juice down the sink. You avoided her eyes, but she could still see the hurt filling them, as you explained everything that happened in Boston and everything you heard that night. None of it made any sense. Bucky told her how he felt, the whole truth, and no one lies to Natasha.

“Y/n, I know that’s not true.” Natasha pointed to where you were standing and told you what happened that morning he invited you to Boston. “He stood right there, looked me in the eye, and said you meant something to him. He said he was going to tell you in Boston how much you meant to him and that he wanted more than this game you two are playing."

"Well, he lied!” You shouted, falling back against the counter from the blowback of the admission. “Of course, he lied. You’re my best friend. You probably would have killed him and hid the body before I got out of the shower. He’s not going to tell you the truth because he knew you would tell me.”

“And why do you think he told them the truth?”

“Steve is his best friend and his business partner. They all served together, Steve, Sam, and Bucky. They are brothers, and he’s known Sharon for over a decade before she ever married Steve. There is no way he lied to them, and even if he did lie to them, it doesn’t make him any better. It only means he’s embarrassed to with me, so he lied to the people closest to him.”

Natasha wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. He lied to someone, and no matter who caught the lie and who heard the truth, none of it was good.

“You need to talk to him. Tell him what you heard and let him explain himself. Maybe it’s all a misunderstanding. If it turns out he is a total dick, you can use the moves I taught you freshmen year and give him a broken arm as a parting gift.”

A single kiss dropped to your cheek, and she left you alone to find your way through the tangled web of dark thoughts spinning around your head. Natasha was right — like always. You needed to talk to him about the trip, but first… You grabbed your phone from where it fell on the counter and pulled up your messages. Your stupid fingers were at it again. A quick screenshot of Carol’s post, you dropped into the textbox and typed furiously before your brain could gain control over your fingers.

You: Looks like you had fun. Did you finally get snatched up?

That sounded awful and jealous and childish. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to be with you, your phone mocks.

You watched three bubbles pop up right away as if he was already sending you something or at the very least, had his phone in his hand, and guilt swam up your throat, choking you. He was probably working, and you were sending him childish messages fueled by jealousy.

Fella❤: I had more fun when you were with me. I got snatched up months ago. Sorry to say. A sweet girl stole me away. Made me her fella, didn't you hear?

You hated how he could say things that meant so much to you and mean so little to him, and you really hated how much you didn’t hate it at all.

You: Did she? Really?

Fella ❤: Really and truly. She did. I was hoping she would be my date to the Stark Modern Art Charity Gala this weekend. I was about to ask her when I got your message. I haven't seen her in days, and I'm itchin' to have her on my arm again.

Of course, on his arm for show and nothing more.

You: That can be arranged. I don't have a dress, though. I don’t want to embarrass you.

Fella ❤: You could wear a garbage bag and be beautiful, and you could never embarrass me. BUT if you insist on getting dressed up. I think I have something in mind. I'll send it over.

Fella ❤: What has you thinking I could ever be embarrassed by you?

You ignored the question and hoped your answer would keep him distracted so you could have that conversation in person.

You: Okay, I’ll be your girl for the night.

Fella ❤: I hope after the gala it will be more than just one night, sweet girl.

Ordinarily, Bucky’s flirting and little sexual innuendos would make your toes curl, and those stupid butterflies in your stomach flutter — maybe even laugh if it was silly enough, but it didn’t. It left you feeling empty and… wanting. Which only made your choice easier. Of course, you were going to go wherever he wanted you to go because truthfully, five days was far too long without him. You missed him. You missed so much your chest ached, and the only thing that could ease the hurt was seeing him.

If being Bucky’s sugar baby was the only way you could have him, then you were going to take what he could give until he was done with you because you were not ready to lose him just yet.

#sugar daddy!bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #sugar daddy AU #alternate universe #sugary sweet series #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes

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let-it-raines · 4 years

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I’m married, I used to be a wedding planner, I’ve been to far too many weddings. All this said, I still struggle real hard to write a wedding. So, nonnie, I hope you like this! It was nice to get it out of my head and have it put in actual cohesive words, even if it took longer than I intended❤️

found on ao3 | here |

*I’m having to repost because something super funky was happening with the “keep reading” as can be seen in the screenshot of the ask. Sorry about that!*

-/-

June 19th, 2021

Ruth wants them to stay apart tonight.

It’s some kind of tradition or superstition, and as an athlete, Killian gets it. He does. He is all about doing the same stupid thing over and over again because it was happening on a day where something good happened. When he made it to his first post-season, he didn’t shave until the last ball was played. In 2018 when they made it to the World Series, he wore the same pair of socks every day. He washed them, but it was still the same pair of socks.

(He’s too particular about cleanliness not to wash things.)

But those were things he needed in order to convince himself that they were going to win, that he was going to be able to do it, and that everything was going to be alright.

He doesn’t need to spend the night away from his wife the night before their wedding.

The thing is that they can’t exactly tell anyone that they eloped over a month ago. It would break their family’s hearts, and he and Emma are committed to keeping that secret between the two of them.

That was their day, just them, and it’s not something to be shared.

He’s been wearing his wedding ring on a chain around his neck for the past month, and God, he can’t wait to get to put it on his finger tomorrow even if he’ll have to put it right back on the chain for games.

They likely shouldn’t have picked a wedding date right in the middle of baseball season, but this is the date that worked for everyone.

No game happening.

No work for Liam and Elsa.

Ruth could come to town.

And no one was so pregnant that they couldn’t attend.

(Anna told him that if they got married while she was eight months pregnant with twins she would murder him, so they obviously changed the original date.)

“Mom, I’m not doing that.”

“It’s tradition.”

“I stayed apart from David when we got married,” Mary Margaret adds in as they walk down the hallway after paying the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner.

“I’m staying in my own damn apartment,” Emma huffs. “I like my bed and my stuff, and I don’t want to have to sleep on the rock-hard bed in your spare bedroom.”

“Okay, well, you stay home, and Killian can stay at Liam’s.”

Emma stops walking and crosses her arms over her chest before briefly glancing at him. She is not happy, and if she didn’t love her family, he imagines there would be some kind of strangulation happening right about now.

Well, if there also wasn’t the threat of jail as well. That might also keep her from doing it.

“I appreciate you both looking out for tradition and any possible horrible things that may happen to us if we don’t stay apart,” Killian sighs, “but this wasn’t something we were planning on doing and neither of us are interested in it. If down the road we don’t work out, feel free to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Are you serious?”

“As anything.”

Killian glances over at Emma, at the small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. If he looks at her, he can ignore the disapproving stares of Mary Margaret and Ruth. It was Ruth who was insistent, but now, he might be a little more scared of Mary Margaret.

“Emma,” Ruth sighs, “won’t you please do this? It’s tradition, and it would mean so much to me to get to spend this night with you.”

Emma sighs and tilts her head up to look at the ceiling. She’s got on a short white dress tonight, and it flows off her body from the waist down, but it’s tight around her chest where the material barely covers her breasts. He’s been distracted by it all bloody night and the way that his mother’s ring hits in the concave between her boobs, but now as her neck is elongated, all he can focus on is the smoothness of her skin and the way her summer tan accentuates all of her features.

Beautiful.

“I’m sorry, but no,” Emma finally says. “I will see you both at nine tomorrow morning, and you will be with me until I walk down the aisle at six. That’s so much time, and I would much rather spend the night with Killian. I don’t think we’re going to be cursed.”

“Let the woman go,” David yells from the elevator door. “I’m ready to go to sleep.”

“David speaks the truth,” Killian laughs, reaching over to thread his fingers through Emma’s. “It’s been a long, wonderful day, and I cannot thank you both enough for it. Let’s all go home, though, get our beauty sleep. We’re all going to need it. There’s only so much editing the photographer can do.”

Mary Margaret and Ruth finally relent, and David manages to drag them out of the restaurant where they have been camping out for the last several hours, toasts given and delicious food eaten as half of the people they knew came up to he and Emma to congratulate them and talk about their excitement for tomorrow. The wedding has ended up being much bigger than either of them intended, mostly because of the sheer number of people they know and getting carried away with the help of Mary Margaret, Ruby, Elsa, and Anna. It’s honestly been insane and a whirlwind with the season taking up most of his time, and after they got married last month, neither of them have cared much about what this wedding will be like.

It’s a celebration with their friends and family, and if everyone else is happy, he will be too.

Though, he is excited to see Emma’s dress. He’s not seen it yet, but he knows he’ll find her beautiful in anything.

Killian tugs on Emma’s hand, and they start walking to the elevator, heading down to the lobby to get his car from the valet. There are photographers waiting outside, and he hears Emma groan. He squeezes her hand, wishing there was some other way to comfort her from the nuisance that are gossip reporters, but there’s nothing they can do now besides get his keys, get in the car, and go home.

“Was Ruth driving you crazy too?” Emma asks as they start slipping out of their clothes in their closet. “I know she means well, but oh my gosh, I never realized how much of a traditionalist she could be until the past few weeks.”

“I mean, it’s not unheard of for couples who already live together to stay apart the night of the wedding.”

“No, it’s not, but I still didn’t want to do it. I mean, have you slept on the bed in the guest room at David’s? It’s awful.”

“You could take the couch.”

“I promise they wouldn’t let me.”

Killian chuckles and hangs his shirt up before taking off his belt and his pants as Emma unclasps her bra. “Tomorrow you’ll wear the pretty white dress and carry a far too heavy bouquet, and everyone will be so amazed by your beauty that they won’t care that you kept bucking their traditions.”

“Getting a little cheesy there, Jones.”

“It happens sometimes.”

Emma shakes her head and bends over to grab one of his t-shirts. She doesn’t bother to hang up her dress or put away her bra or her shoes, and one day he will stop hoping that she’ll clean up her clothes.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Probably not.

He ends up picking up her clothes and putting them away after he’s changed into a pair of shorts, and he finds Emma in the bathroom taking off her makeup and washing her face. It takes her a little longer than usual to do it, and by the time she’s finished, he’s scrolling through Netflix trying to find something for them to watch as they fall asleep.

“You went ahead and got yourself comfortable, huh?” Emma laughs as she gets into her side of the bed and pulls the covers up to her chest.

“You took forever to take your makeup off.”

“Had to make sure there wasn’t any left. I’d definitely get, like, the biggest zit in the world, and believe it or not, I want the pictures to look nice tomorrow.”

“They could always airbrush it out. As long as it’s not too big. I was kidding about the photoshop thing earlier.”

“Shut up,” Emma laughs, reaching over to gently shove him. “Did we bring any leftovers home?”

“No, but I know Scarlet took a box home. You could always call him.”

“Would it be crazy if I did that?”

“Yeah, love, yeah it would.”

“It was really good food.”

Killian puts the remote down and leans over to wrap his arm around Emma’s waist and pull her closer to him. She’s warm, even if her feet are cold, and he breathes in the lingering scent of her perfume as she settles against him.

“We have some food in the fridge. Or I can make you something.”

“None of that will be the same as Will bringing me the leftovers.”

Killian laughs into her neck and then kisses the skin there. “I know for a fact that you’re going to brunch in the morning, so I think you’ll be able to make it.”

“Don’t be jealous that my friends plan on me having better food than Liam plans on you having.”

“Well, maybe I’ll have to attend the brunch as well.”

Emma twists around in his arms, elbowing him and kicking him before she settles so that the tips of her nose brushes against his. “I’m so glad we got married at the courthouse. I mean, I’m excited to wear my dress and to have the big party, but I really liked that day.”

“Aye, me too.”

She presses forward to glide her lips over his, soft and slow, and neither of them are in a hurry to get anywhere. He loves when they get to be like this, when they have time to tease and explore and not be in a rush to get to a certain destination.

There’s always somewhere to be, something to do, a game to play, someone to talk to. There’s always a rush.

Right now, however, the only rush is the beating of his heart and the way that the woman in his arms makes him feel.

Frustrated and exasperated and so damn in love that he’ll pick up her shoes when she leaves them around, which is always.

When they come together, it’s in that same gentle, slow motion that they were following earlier. Emma’s hair is cascading down her back in long, soft waves, and when she bends down to mold her lips to his again, he shifts his hips up to keep their rhythm as his hands settle on her back sides and hold her down to him. Who knows how many times they’ve done this and how many times they’ll do it in the future? It’s the past and present all at once, but he doesn’t care to be in any moment other than this one.

Damn is he glad that she’s not staying at the Nolans’ tonight. He can’t imagine her being anywhere else other than here with him.

When he wakes in the morning, it’s to the softness of Emma’s lips pressing against his chest, her mouth tracing his skin. Slowly, Killian blinks his eyes open, a smile curving on his lips, and while he expects Emma to be still be naked next to him in bed, she’s not. Instead she’s clothed in a button-down and a pair of shorts, her hair freshly washed and her face bare of makeup so he can see her freckles.

They come out more in the summer, and he’s rather fond of them.

“What are you doing out of bed?” He mumbles, reaching over for her and pulling her back to him. She easily falls into him, resting half on top of his leg while his hands reach out for her. “It’s not time for you to go yet.”

“We were up pretty late there, twenty-nine, and you slept in. So, yeah, it’s time to go. Elsa said she’s almost here to come get me.”

Killian juts his lower lip out. He knows Emma will find it ridiculous, which is exactly why he does it. “We’re technically already married. Want to play hooky?”

“No,” she laughs, getting up to lean back down over him so she can kiss him. “I’ll see you at the end of that aisle.”

“Well, technically you’ll see me for the pictures beforehand.”

“Semantics.” She kisses him again, lingering this time. “I love you. I will see you later. You’re going to be the most handsome man there tonight.”

“I better damn well be. I love you, Emma.”

And then she’s getting up and walking away, picking up a large tote bag, a backpack, and her dress before she’s walking out the bedroom door.

What a lucky son of a bitch he is.

Killian doesn’t have anywhere to be until noon. None of his friends or his brother are calling and texting and badgering him to do things, so he gets up and gets dressed to go for a run. It’ll be hot later, June in New York not exactly pleasant weather, but this morning, it’s nearly perfect, even if he has to avoid a few photographers as he makes his way to the park. They’ve been worse than usual lately, the wedding putting them into overdrive looking for gossip and exclusives, and Killian’s doing his best to ignore them. He always has, especially when people are trying to attack Emma.

He is not going to let them ruin is mood today, not when he’s got miles ahead of him and a damn big party to attend tonight.

He runs for almost an hour. Technically today should be a pitching practice day for him, but Al took him out of the rotation so he’s only missing one game while in Spain instead of the two he was slotted to. He’ll have to do some kind of practice, but how many times does a man get to have a honeymoon?

Well, considering all goes well and all that.

He stops for coffee before he goes home, drinking it on the walk back, and he slips in the back entrance of his apartment complex before taking the elevator up and hoping into the shower the moment he gets inside. It’s like it’s any other day.

Except it’s not.

“Where are you?”

Killian jumps at the sound of Liam’s voice, and he quickly turns off the water and grabs a towel to tie around his waist. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Making sure you’re not still asleep.”

“It’s almost noon. Have I ever slept in that late?”

“All the time.”

“Since I was a teenager then?”

“Eh, maybe. Not that I know about, though, unless you had a late travel day. You going to put some clothes on?”

“You come into my place, unannounced, and you’re going to complain that I don’t have clothes on?”

“I’m your brother. That’s what I do. Now, come on, Elsa told me I should take you out for lunch. I apparently didn’t think about that.”

“You’re a spectacular best man.”

He shrugs. “I do what I can, which has mostly been keeping Addy and Lucy out of their dresses so they don’t stain them before tonight. Who puts kids in white?”

“Your wife picked out those dresses.”

“Of course she did,” Liam chuckles. “But seriously, finish getting ready. Robin is getting us some food, and we’re going to eat at the venue.”

“What? I don’t deserve to dine in?”

“Do you want to?”

“No, I’d much rather sit on the couch and eat.”

“Exactly. Let’s go.”

When they get to the pier, Robin, Will, Eric, August, Kris, Graham, and David are already there, food and drinks spread out across the table in front of them. They’re in the middle of some debate about Thursday’s game, Will arguing with Robin about him misreading one of Will’s signs, and they don’t notice when Killian sits down and grabs a bowl of pasta from the center of the table.

“Pleasant, don’t you think?” Killian asks David.

“Exactly how I would want all of my friends to be acting on a day when we’re all supposed to get along.”

“It’s worse if they’re also your coworkers.”

David chuckles and takes a sip of his water. “Did Ruth break into your house in the middle of the night to try to separate the two of you?”

“God, no,” Killian laughs. “And if she did, I’m sure she would have been in for quite the sight.”

“Please remember that you’re talking to Emma’s brother when you speak to me.”

Killian shrugs and smiles. “What? You don’t want to be having this conversation?”

“I want to be having anything but this conversation.”

“Okay, we can talk about last year’s Christmas when you – ”

“Jones, shut the fuck up.”

Killian chuckles and pokes his pasta with his fork. “No, Ruth didn’t come and get Emma in the middle of the night. I was almost convinced she and Mary Margaret would, so I’m thankful that she didn’t. Emma left so damn early this morning, though, that she might as well have stayed somewhere else.”

“A lot goes into them getting ready for today. Though, honestly, I’m pretty sure Ruby has all of them getting drunk on mimosas.”

“Oh, I would bet on that.”

“What are we betting on?” Will interrupts. “Are we betting that Emma doesn’t walk down the aisle tonight? Is she going to be a runaway bride?”

“Don’t be an asshole, Scarlet,” Robin mutters. “You can’t say shit like that.”

“What? We all know I’m joking. Emma is far too good for the man, but she loves him. She’s definitely going to show up…probably.”

Killian flips up his finger at Will and keeps eating his pasta. “I feel like I was much more supportive on your wedding day.”

“Oh, you were, but I like to switch things up. I keep it interesting.”

They keep eating and jokingly arguing and not agreeing on a single thing, but then they turn on the game tapes that most of them are supposed to be watching for Monday’s game. It’s like it’s any other day, all of them messing around and groaning about mistakes, except after a few hours, they start changing out of their lounge clothes and into black tuxes with crisp white shirts that they’re under strict instructions not to spill anything on. Emma is just across the hall from him now, and Ariel keeps walking over to make sure that nothing has been ruined.

Between Ariel, Mary Margaret, and Ruth, none of them have any room for error.

Maybe those three should be their coach instead of Al.

The photographer comes and gets Killian and all of his groomsmen around four, they take all of the pictures on the list that he and Emma made up, and then Killian is told to walk out onto the large deck that’s just outside the ballroom. The Hudson is right below them, an expanse of sparkling blue water that makes a spectacular backdrop, and he tries to focus on it even though he knows that he’s standing out here so he and Emma can take their pictures.

She’s been texting him on and off all day, little updates about how things are going, and it’s been odd knowing she’s just around the corner but not with him. And he would be a liar if he said he wasn’t curious what her dress looked like. He never thought he would be a man who cared about something like that, who thought that a dress could make any difference in how he looks at the woman he loves, but he knows that Emma loves this dress. If she does, that’s enough for him to look at her that little bit differently.

Like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world, because to him, she is.

What a day for some sentimental thoughts.

“Hey, handsome,” she sighs, and he immediately turns around at the sound of her voice. “I know you love the water, but I don’t think jumping in is really an option right now.”

“I mean, I could, but this was a bloody expensive tux.”

“Be a shame to ruin it and all that.”

Killian’s finally able to look away from her face and the bright smile there to look down at her dress. It’s not a bright white, exactly. It’s off a little bit, and it hugs her until it gets to her waist where it loosens and begins to flow until it hits the floor. Pearls cover it, a few at the top and then more and more as his eyes scan to the bottom of her dress. It’s different than what he expected, but it’s Emma.

This is Emma.

And she’s gorgeous and radiant, and while he’d marry her again in a courthouse with no pomp and circumstance, he’s glad they get to do this too.

“You look – ”

“I know,” she finishes for him. “We clean up pretty well, Jones.”

“Don’t I know it?” He leans in and brushes his lips over her cheek, lightly so he doesn’t mess up her makeup. “All of our friends are staring at us from inside.”

“Is it creepy?”

“It’s terrifying.”

“Addy and Lucy are very excited. Have you seen them yet?”

“I haven’t had the honor, but I have talked to them on the phone several times. They want to know if they get to tear up your flowers.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I obviously told them yes, so you best watch out for that.”

“I’ll be on the look-out. You want to take some pictures until our faces hurt?”

“Obviously. It’s what I’ve dreamed of since I was a young lad wondering just what this day would be like.”

She gently pushes at his chest. “You had anything to drink there, twenty-nine?”

“I had one small glass of rum, which is nothing compared to the mimosa fest you went on.”

“Hey, now, that was mostly Ruby and Elsa. I, too, only had one glass. Wanted to make sure I’d be able to recognize you. You’re wearing almost the exact same thing as Liam. Wouldn’t want to marry the wrong Jones.”

“Don’t even suggest that.”

“Are you two going to make out now or what?” Ruby yells from the entryway. “Because I need to know which parts of Emma’s makeup I have to fix!”

“She’ll never change, will she?” Emma laughs, her smile as radiant as he’s ever seen it.

“Never.”

They seem to take pictures for hours, pose after pose with just the two of them before they add in the bridal parties and family and have ticked off everything on the list. Emma wasn’t kidding when she said their faces would hurt from smiling so much, and he knows that she has heels on so he imagines her feet are killing her. But soon enough, he’s having to leave Emma back up in the bridal suite while he lines up at the front of the ballroom, ready for Emma to walk down the aisle with all of these people looking at the two of them.

What a weird tradition.

But hey, he gets to marry Emma twice, and he can’t really complain about that.

-/- -/-

“How drunk is Kris right now?”

“Well, he’s starting talking about how much he loves ice, so I think he’s at least five drinks in.”

“Is it six-drink Kris that gets a little frisky?”

“Babe, he’s a married man and a father of two now. His tolerance dipped, and it’s now drink two where he gets frisky.”

“That would explain why he tried to touch my ass earlier.”

Emma laughs and moves her hand to gently shove Killian. His eyes crinkle with his smile, his summer tan making everything seem brighter, and she idly wonders if his face still hurts from smiling for pictures from earlier. Or, well, still smiling now. It’s got to be getting close to ten, and it doesn’t seem like anyone has left the reception. She can’t even remember a time where her face didn’t hurt or where her feet weren’t killing her despite the fact that she chunked her heels at least an hour ago.

It’s been a good day.

Like, really good.

She’s never really had an idea of what her wedding day would be like. It’s not something she imagined in much detail. Maybe it would be a small crowd, just her closest friends and family. This isn’t some extravagant thing, but it’s definitely much bigger than any sane person would call a small crowd. That’s all thanks to Ariel and her constantly coming up with people they forgot or Ruth asking if they could invite some of her friends since they all wanted to see her daughter getting married.

Emma’s heart still flutters every time she thinks about Ruth calling Emma her daughter.

But the extra people and flowers and lights really just make it one better, bigger party, and despite the fact that for awhile she kept getting pulled away to talk to everyone, she really hasn’t had to have that much interaction with the people who aren’t in her close circle.

That’s been nice.

Being able to dance with Killian and eat in a hidden room and not constantly be pulled apart at the seams has been that way too. Half the reason they got married at the courthouse was for fear that they wouldn’t be able to enjoy their wedding day, but that’s not at all what’s happened.

She’s happy. That still, somehow, surprises her sometimes, and she doesn’t want to take it for granted.

“You’re ridiculous, Jones,” Emma laughs, her hand sliding back to rest around Killian’s neck. They’ve had two slow songs in a row, and she’s enjoying the change of pace. “How much longer until I can get you out of this tux?”

His brows raise, and his smile turns salacious. “Look who’s getting frisky now.”

“I mean, I am expecting to get lucky tonight.”

“As you should be. Though, I’m not entirely sure how I’m supposed to get you out of your dress. Are you sewn into it?”

“There’s a small zipper on the side. Don’t break it.”

“Why? You planning on wearing this thing again?”

“I am obviously going to lounge around the apartment in it. No more sweatpants for me. Only gowns.”

“Seems practical.”

“I am always practical.”

Killian dips down and tugs her close as his mouth closes over hers. She can taste rum and cake on his tongue, and she appreciates the mixture of sweet and spice. His kiss doesn’t linger for long, but the feeling of it settles somewhere deep in her belly.

“I love you, my wife.”

“You just love calling me your wife.”

“I do. It’s got a nice ring to it. Makes me feel far more responsible than I am.”

Emma chuckles and shakes her head. He’s an idiot.

“I love you, too. Do you want to – ”

“Hey,” David interrupts, “can I borrow Emma for a minute?”

“What, mate?” Killian laughs, already letting go of her. “Do you not want to dance with me?”

David winks. “We’ll have our time later.”

“Promises, promises.”

“Oh my God, stop.”

“Never, love.” Killian winks and starts stepping away. “Do you want another glass of wine?”

“I do. Oh, and one of those popcorn bags. The – ”

“The cake flavored kind, I know.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a popcorn bar at a wedding before,” David says as he takes Emma’s hands in his and pulls her close. The song is changing to something faster, more upbeat, and while everyone else is changing how they dance, they don’t. “That’s kind of ingenious. I’ve always thought most wedding food was stuffy.”

“Says the man who had the most classic wedding menu in existence.”

David shrugs. “I can’t help it that I didn’t know I could sneak in some classic stadium food but put a gourmet twist on it so we didn’t seem cheap.”

“Eh, screw wedding traditions. Most of them are outdated anyway.”

David smiles and then spins her around, gently letting her go before pulling her back in as laughter rumbles in her chest. Never let it be said that David Nolan doesn’t know how to dance.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way. I don’t remember if I got the chance to tell you that.”

“You did, but thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“What a roundabout way to say I am the most handsome man in this room.”

Emma rolls her eyes. Her brother is also an idiot.

“Maybe to Mary Margaret.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighs, “I guess I can allow you to think that your husband is the most handsome man in the room. How’s that feel, by the way? Any different?”

Emma hums and looks over David’s shoulder to see Killian already holding a glass of wine in one hand, some rum in the other, and a small bag of popcorn sticking out of his shirt as he talks to Will and Belle. He looks ridiculous, and she really should have thought more about having him carry three things.

“Not different,” she answers, trying to figure out what to say. She’s technically been married to Killian for over a month now, and she still hasn’t quite been able to articulate the feeling in her gut. “I don’t really know. I mean, we’ve been pretty much committed to each other from the beginning, and we’ve been living together for a year and a half. I feel like everything is the same, but it’s like…I don’t know. It’s like it feels more permanent that I get to have this family that I found.”

And that, she thinks, is exactly what she’s been trying to say this entire time.

Family.

She’s had David, Mary Margaret, and Ruth for a decade and a half now. She’s had Ruby and Graham for a little less time than that. Then came everyone from the team and all of their partners, including Liam and Elsa and their kids.

And Killian.

He’s her family. She’s known that for a long time now, but there’s something nice about it being official.

Mr. and Mrs. Killian and Emma Jones.

Some kind of official unit who pays joint taxes and argues over what’s for dinner and who has pictures of the two of them on the bookshelf and on the walls.

Never in a million years could she have imagined her life going this way, but it did.

And it really all started because David took her to a Yankees game when she was a teenager. It’s funny how life works like that.

“You deserve all of it and more, kid,” David whispers as he leans down to kiss her forehead. “Tell Killian I’ll steal him for a dance later.”

“Oh, I promise you he’ll somehow find you first.”

David lets go of her hands, and Emma maneuvers away from the dance floor to go get Killian. He’s still talking to Will and Belle, and when she walks up to him, he hands her the glass of wine, and she takes a sip while trying to figure out what the hell they’re talking about.

“He fucking misread my signal.”

Never mind. She knows exactly what they’re talking about.

“Scarlet,” Emma sighs, “just for tonight, let it go. You and Robin can keep having your lovers spat tomorrow when I am not in the country to hear about it.”

“I have an international plan. I can still call you.”

“He is not going to call you,” Belle promises. “I will make sure of it.”

“I know he still will, but maybe I won’t answer.”

“And after all the nice things I said about you today.”

“What nice things did you say about me today?”

“I said you looked beautiful and that you are definitely Killian’s better half.”

Emma smiles into her glass and glances over at Killian. He is simply shaking his head.

“That was last night,” Emma tells Will, “but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Emma,” Lucy interrupts, tugging on Emma’s elbow. She’s miraculously still got no stains on her dress, but her flower crown is a little worse for the wear. “Anna says that we can throw the confetti soon.”

“Yeah? Did she tell you what time, kid?”

“In thirty minutes.”

“Well, I will be sure to be ready for you to throw the confetti at me in thirty minutes, okay? Make sure to get a little on your uncle.”

“That’s what Daddy said too.”

“Hey,” Killian grumbles, “tell your father he can – ”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Emma laughs, turning back to Killian. “Do you think we can get Ariel to pilfer us a few more bags of this popcorn and send them home with us before we leave?”

“I’ve already had it arranged.”

“Ah, you’re knocking it out of the ballpark already, babe.”

“I see the awful sports-related puns never stop.”

“Never.”

Emma’s not really sure where the time goes. One minute she’s talking to Killian, and then the next she’s being pulled away by Ruby and Mary Margaret for some pictures. Then there’s another bite of cake and half a glass of water, and she somehow talks to everyone she knows in half an hour before they’re all throwing little pieces of confetti up in the air as she and Killian walk down a hallway on their way to the car that’s going to take them back to the hotel they’re staying in tonight.

Even the ride to the hotel seems to go in the blink of an eye, like they’re carefully putting a seatbelt over her dress one minute and then trying to figure out how to get her out of the car without the material dragging against the concrete the next.

Time does seem to slow, though, when they get inside the room and Emma can feel Killian’s lips against her neck. They’re warm, much like he is, and a shiver runs down her spine until it settles deep in her belly so that she can have some of Killian’s warmth as well.

It seems to be never-ending.

“On the side, you said?” Killian whispers against her skin.

“What?”

“Your zipper? Where is your zipper?”

“Oh,” Emma laughs, craning her head back against the door, “yeah, it’s on the side. Don’t yank on it. We don’t want a pearl disaster in here.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

Emma’s chest heaves with want and with laughter, and it makes it difficult for Killian to get her zipper down. There was some kind of complicated part, and she ends up helping him, cursing under her breath when it gets stuck before they both get it down.

Team works makes the dream work and all that.

She really has to stop with the sports puns tonight, but her brain seems to always have them now.

Consequences of her job and her husband’s job, she guesses.

After her dress is finally off and carefully draped over a chair, they easily get Killian’s tux off, Emma’s fingers fumbling with the few buttons that are remaining before she tugs his pants down so that everything is resting on the floor. The bed is soft when she lands against it, but she really doesn’t have that much time to think about it when Killian’s head is suddenly between her thighs and she’s reduced to having no thoughts at all.

Damn, he’s good at that.

He’s also good when he sinks into her, warm and steady, and his hands interlace with her above their heads. It’s a gentle rhythm, loving and slow, and she savors the push and the pull, the give and the take, the want and the need.

The way that they fit together in some kind of far too cheesy, puzzle-like kind of way.

And tonight, there’s no added meaning to the way Killian thrusts into her. It’s the same as it almost always is, as it was when they first got together, when they fell in love, when they got married for real. It’s got her gulping for air as Killian kisses her and her hands squeezing his to hold onto the feeling of him for as long as she possibly can.

They’ve got forever, though, so maybe she doesn’t have to hold on too tightly.

Then again, why wouldn’t she when this is everything she never allowed herself to wish for?

-/-

As always, if you have a prompt for this universe (or another kind), send it to my inbox!

@mrtinski @bluewildcatfanatic @killianswannn @dorisquinn @onepunintendid @authorarsinoe @stunningswan @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @superchocovian @sals86 @iam2307 @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @carpedzem @tornadoamy @captainkillianswanjones

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

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not-a-perfect-metaphor · 5 years

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Well, I deleted this original answer (and then deleted it again as a post...and then deleted it one more time after that), so here it is for a fourth time with a screenshot of the original ask, and LET US HOPE that I can manage to see it through to completion.

This ask has taken me quite a bit of time and thought, because what I’m hoping to give you is a summary that helps you to better understand without being too overwhelming/containing way too much information.

First, thank you so much for reaching out, and I’m really glad you did! The point you’re at right now (or the point you were at when you sent this anyway) is where every single one of us started, and it’s an amazing journey from here if you find yourself wanting to take it! Seeking out resources from others is absolutely the way to go about it, and I hope that you always feel free to ask me (and other tinhats) for any info/thoughts/anything you need in the future! I can’t seem to include links in-post, but I’m going to message you a link to Speak the Truth, a site documenting J2 ‘happenings’ so to speak from a tinhat’s perspective through the year 2011. And, basically, whether someone’s been a tinhat from day one or for one day, we all have different pieces of the puzzle, and that’s really why it’s so important for us to connect with each other and work together as a whole.

So, let me try to figure out where to begin.

I, like quite a few other tinhats I’ve spoken with over the years actually, didn’t put much stock into any of this when it first started to emerge. People fantasizing about two celebrities having a romantic relationship (especially two leads in a movie or a TV show and especially when those leads are of the same sex) is far from a new thing and has been going on forever, and naturally I assumed in the beginning that J2 tinhats were no different. Had I not actually looked into all of it further and eventually then started really paying attention to the comings and goings of Jared & Jensen/watching all the footage I could find/reading the interviews/seeking out candid photos etc., I might not have ever changed my views, and it still took me quite a while to fully come around to where I am now even with all that.

What caused me to start looking more deeply in the first place was the simple fact that Jared & Jensen, even during the still-fledgling days of their relationship (however you happen to define that relationship), had a very unique and pretty immediate closeness that separated them distinctly from everyone else.

***As an aside, like I always bring up, most Wincest shippers were born from that intense J2 chemistry that bled into the characters of Sam & Dean.

The Js had clearly connected on a deep level that they not only spoke about openly from the beginning but that was also more than evident in the ways they interacted with each other, looked at each other, talked to each other, and even just existed in each other’s spaces (they even shared and share clothing and have freely admitted that).

Jared: “It didn’t feel like a blind date. It felt like we were continuing a relationship. There’s no rhyme or reason to what happened.”

They’ve also frequently phrased things like that *points up,* using very couple-y terminology.

(note: speaking of couple-y terminology, they’ve been heard calling each other “babe” and “baby” on several different occasions)

They’ve always had the kind of body language with each other that you really don’t see often in non-platonic relationships and that you especially don’t see often between two actors who’s paths have crossed initially in a purely work-related setting, and it was that special intimacy between them that first sparked my curiosity.

Let’s take a very brief look at just a few of those examples (a mix of the early years and beyond):

And below I’m including an example of the clothes-sharing I mentioned:

My curiosity expanded VERY rapidly (almost explosively) from that point onward as I began to dive more heavily into ‘J2-research.’

Like I said above, I’m not going to overload this post with specifics (although I’m happy to send specifics to you by the boatload if you’re interested), but I will just wrap up this first part of my answer by saying that it was the candid J2 moments I came across that really started to sell me on the possibility of a non-platonic J2 dynamic, the pictures and footage where they didn’t know they were being recorded or photographed, largely during the earlier years when they weren’t as cautious, but certainly not limited to those years, pictures/footage in which they interacted with each other in ways that I certainly would not interact with someone I wasn’t romantically involved with or at least romantically interested in).

Here are a couple of well-known examples. Less intense than some choice video clips (that I’ll have to find a way to post in the future) but still beautiful and intimate. I actually just posted that first one a few hours ago!

-which ‘arguably’ could depict the body language of two very close platonic friends (more so than the first photo, above it, anyway), but...look more closely at the giddy, love-struck expression on Jensen’s face as he watches Jared:

It’s kinda a bit harder to call it platonic when you really see it like that....

And...gosh, I poured over so many of these moments, just...so, so many.

Even then, though, I wasn’t necessarily convinced of the fact that the two were together in any kind of serious way. I, like this blog’s first owner, co-owner (who became a tinhat almost right alongside me, actually, time-wise) felt that the Js were certainly at least not strictly straight, quite possibly that they weren’t at all straight, and that they were definitely attracted to each other, an attraction that had likely yielded physical results, but I had no reason to think at that point that they would go to the great lengths (and put themselves through the unimaginable hardships) of leading such intricately and immensely false lives, at great personal expense, if they were actually in a serious, romantic relationship with each other that they both felt would be long-term.

Not when it was almost 2008 (at the time) and being a gay celebrity wasn’t anything to even bat an eye at anymore...right?

But I still had a lot to learn back then.

The next ‘milestone’ for me, upon looking even more closely (and not just at the Js anymore but at those around them/in their circle/etc., not to mention the Js lives pre-meeting each other, just all kinds of stuff) came the discovery(discoveries) of the many inconsistencies, which I’ll explain further, that were ultimately at the heart of my transition from on-the-fence to full tinhat.

A good example to use, because most people have at least some knowledge of this, centers around the period of time that the Js publicly lived together and the many...many different stories that were told explaining their living arrangement. I actually posted a pretty humorous account detailing some of it, and I can link you to it if you’d like. That’s just one example of many, but perhaps it’s the example with the most number of slip-ups/cases of the Js forgetting the details of the lie/etc.

To briefly cover one of those “living together” slip-ups, at separate meet-and-greets, Jensen once told people that he had moved out of Jared’s house while Jared said that Jensen was very much still living with him. And that’s probably the least suspicious but the easiest to quickly explain of the slips.

Another example, from later on (that I’m using because, again, it’s one that people are generally aware of) is when Jared told a story about being out to dinner in Italy with his wife and accidentally flipping off the waiter and then Jensen retold the exact same story at another con, only that time, he was the one who’d been with Jared.

Once I knew to look for them, I was blown away by how often these kinds of inconsistencies had already occurred and continued to occur, things being covered-up or overly-explained, stories changing sometimes three or more times in ways too significant to be excused away as memory lapses, even attempts at erasing things altogether...which doesn’t work very well in the age of the interwebz.

And why...why would these cover-ups and excuses and erasures exist if there was nothing to hide?

•••••••••

Retracing my steps for a moment to talk a little about the Js lives prior to meeting each other, which was one of the other things I’d started looking into by this point and definitely played an important part in confirming my tinhat beliefs.

The first example that comes to mind is Jensen’s ex-roommate (and just ex, period, at least that’s what I personally think), Ty Vaughn, the one underneath Jensen in this photo:

And I’ve spent a good 24 hours trying to track down footage I once had of Chad Michael Murray teasing young Jared about flirting with him (to Jared’s extreme embarrassment), but I cannot find it ANYWHERE. If anyone reading this can help me out, I would be forever in your debt.

Other noteworthy things (just a few): An ex-girlfriend of Jensen’s has admitted that she used to beard for someone, and her only celebrity ex is Jensen, and a few of Jared’s teachers from high school have expressed surprise that he’s married now to a woman...so, make of that what you will!

•••••••••

Okay, back to the inconsistencies!Another big one for me has always been the Js saying “we” or “us” (and meaning each other) when, according to public knowledge, it should have been “I” or “me.”

(as well as other synonyms of the above like “our”)

“We got to spend some time with our family yesterday.”

“They were knocking on our trailer.”

etc. etc.

And on the exact opposite end of the spectrum...also ironically what continues to fuel my certainty that the Js are together even more than the “we”-and-“us”-isms: the separation-of-the-Js tactic (varying in severity/frequency), sometimes for an evening or even a single event, sometimes for lonnng stretches of time, but always very suspicious, because, like I’ve been saying for this entire time, everyone knows that Jensen and Jared are extremely close, even those who believe that their closeness isn’t sexual or romantic. What I’m referencing with ‘separation of the Js,’ by the way, is what many tinhats believe to be the PR tactic used to paint pictures of the Js as being much less involved in each other’s lives to (in theory) control rumors. But the Js’ are and always have been intrinsically interconnected, so the reason that J2 separate narratives feel so forced and unnatural, often cringingly so, is because they kinda directly violate who Jensen and Jared are as people with each other, and if anything, that’s likely caused some new tinhats to come aboard, but it certainly hasn’t succeeded in convincing anyone who’s already a believer that they must have just been mistaken all along.

And I should definitely mention the suuuper-duper weirdness surrounding Jensen and Jared’s respective engagements and then weddings, as well as the information, or lack of information in Jared and Genevieve’s case, that was presented to the public about both ‘courtships,’ because almost every single aspect of all of that was drenched in tinhatty suspiciousness right from the start and all the way through. Again, I can link you to posts that detail the topic thoroughly, but to summarize very generally: Jared and Jensen, in leu of increasing rumors about the nature of their relationship, even more so in recent months than had previously been the case, were most likely counseled to straight-en up their images drastically, and fast...the only real way people can do that, by marrying members of the opposite sex (pretty much simultaneously, by the way, & much to the startled disbelief of many, including a very-public-about-his-skepticism Ted Casablanca).

Ted: “Jensen and Jared would sooner marry each other than who they’re currently rumored to be getting hitched to.”

Alright. Yikes. I’m really slipping here with my “not too many details” plan. I’ll start reigning it in again, I promise.

So, around the same same time as the weddings was when I started researching the practice of bearding (fauxmances) in the entertainment business in general, although not as heavily as I’ve researched the topic in recent years, and what I discovered and continue to discover was and is both eye-opening and heart-breaking. I actually just posted about this a couple of days ago, so instead of rambling on about it again, I’ll refer you to that (under the tag ‘toxic industry stuff’ for anyone reading this in the future). A quick summary: the reality that Jensen & Jared face every day and the decisions they’ve made to enter into false marriages are tragically common in the industry....yes, even and especially in today’s age, and for many gay actors and actresses specifically, the choice can really come down to either living honestly or protecting their careers/livelihoods/even their true relationships should they have them.

Since then, I’ve come across a lot of information as well about personal reasons, alongside industry reasons, that might have played a role in the decision to go the route of bearding for Jensen and Jared, like family history, their relationships with/views on/obstacles surmounted to succeed in (etc.) acting as a career, past experiences that have been hinted at, parental influence and sacrifice, not to mention the significant detail of who they happen to play on SPN...brothers (far too many ignorant people out there wouldn’t be able to move past the incest connotation, if a romantic relationship between the Js had been revealed).

By about midway through 2009, I was 100% convinced of the fact that Jared and Jensen were absolutely in a long term relationship that I would guess began around season two of Supernatural but had been on its way since the end of season one and during the hiatus between seasons one and two (want to know why I think that? I’ll do a separate post on it), and that the relationship was, of course, being hidden from the public.

The things that ultimately convinced me as they kept adding up are what continue to convince people today, the same things I’ve been going over at length (too much length) in this answer: intimacy between Jared & Jensen that extends beyond friendship-

-inconsistency in the information presented to the public that revolves around J2 and their time together/circumstances relating to both of them/etc., Jared and Jensen’s respective pasts before meeting each other, and even what some people believe to be hints dropped by Jared and Jensen themselves about their true relationship.

A well-known example (again, among many) that I’ve talked about pretty extensively is Jensen posting a photo in front of a mural that reads “love is love,” a well-known LGBT slogan, and then Jared posting a photo of himself in front of a mural that reads “love will win” on the very same day and captioning it “every time.”

This did turn out to be pretty overwhelming *sighs* but I hope at the very least I’ve succeeded in giving you a somewhat clearer idea of why us tinhats feel the way we do about Jared and Jensen, and I want to encourage you again to reach out whenever you like about anything you’d like to know!

There’s no such thing as a dumb question, and there’s no such thing as too many questions.

Just remember that! ❤️

#j2 tinhat #asks

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it-me-ari · 4 years

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“Beautiful Pain” (reposte)

This is a fic I wrote a while ago and I never proof read (there were soo many mistakes). Also I didn’t make any paragrahs and could only post it in screenshots bc my phone couldn’t handle it. But here it is again, corrected, with paragraphs and as a normal text post!

The Winchesters and I just came back from a hunt and I was about to cook something for all of us (Dean didn't care for healthy food as usual) when Arthur Ketch, our favourite brit (not) suddenly stepped into our meeting room. Sam and Dean pulled out their guns in an instant and I was ready to throw my knife at him but instead of attacking he just lifted his hands above his head. "Don't shoot. I come in peace." He said in a calm voice and carefully pulled a badly beaten up person, clothed in dirty rags, beside him. "And I come bearing gifts." He continued and gestured at the poor guy who looked at us with tensed shoulders and fear in his eyes. I didn't recognize him at first, as he was covered in blood and dirt, but then it hit me and I took a sharp breath. "Gabriel?!" I whispered, trying to push down the emotions that whirled up inside me.

I thought he was dead. I thought I'd never see him again. Hell, I didn't eat for weeks because of his death. Before he 'died' we were good friends, that had the potential to be something more, considering our flirting and teasing it wouldn't have been long before we got together. And, most importantly, Gabriel kissed me before he took on Lucifer and got 'killed'. I couldn't believe what I saw, what had happened to him? I didn't understand why he was alive and why he looked like someone tortured him. Ketch explained that Asmodeus, fourth prince of no hell, had captured him, tortured him and drained him of his grace to inject it himself. The Winchesters and I changed meaningful glances, archangel grace was the last ingredient we needed to open a door to Mary and Jack.

“We're gonna need his grace." Sam finally said you could see that he felt guilty saying that, as Gabriel was in such a bad shape. As soon as he said that the archangel whimpered and stumbled backwards in panic. "Wow calm down. I've also brought this-" said Ketch, calming Gabriel while pulling out two ampoules, filled with shimmering grace, carefully he put them on the table. Gabriel's reaction hurt me, this was not the cocky, powerful archangel I remembered, this was a broken soul, scared and hurt. I hated seeing him like this, hurt, broken, fearful. It pained me that he was suffering so much and the strong urge to take care of him and protect him rose inside me. The boys finally put their guns away and started strategizing with Ketch, unsure what to do with him, they argued for quite a while. I was still in shock about the sudden twist our mission had taken and didn't participate.

Finally, they decided that Dean and Ketch will go to apocalypse world to save Mary and Jack, while Sam and I would stay at the bunker to take care of Gabriel and to guard the door. After they left Castiel arrived and the three of us tried to get a reaction from Gabriel, but he either didn't realize our presence or didn't remember us. Anyway it was very painful to watch him in that state and I almost couldn't bear it, but I kept reminding myself that I had to be strong for Gabriel. When we tried to give him the ampoule of his grace we had left he struggled and refused to take it. "I don't think he will accept it in his current state," Cas stated worried and we decided to let him rest for a while.

After a few hours Cas went to check on Gabriel and what he found in the room caused him to call for us in an urgent tone. "Sam, Angel!" Sam and I were there in an instant, equally surprised how the room had changed. The walls were covered in enochian symbols from top to bottom. "What is this? Did he do that?" I stuttered and looked at Cas in confusion: "Is it enochian?"

Cas scanned the walls with a frown before he answered: "It's his story. It starts with his death." I winced as I remembered how Gabriel died in front of my eyes, murdered by his own brother. Cas continued, oblivious to my reaction to his words: "Or what appeared to be his death. 'As usual, my brother had double my brawn and half my brains. He assumed the counterfeit me is what vanished that night and he thought that he'd stabbed the real thing.' " He ran his fingers over the symbols before he kept on reading: " 'The truth is, the thing Luci skewered was a fake. Plenty of fakes to go around. Everyone believed Gabriel was gone. And suddenly, I was free. No obligations to god or heaven or mankind. And so I did what everyone would do. I moved to Monte Carlo and shacked up with porn stars.' "

As he read those words my head snapped up and I looked at Gabriel in shock, unable to conceal my feelings. It was probably the wrong time to be jealous and hurt but I couldn't ignore the sharp pain in my chest, it felt like someone stabbed me in the heart. I realized that I never had a chance at a relationship with Gabriel. To him, I was just a toy, a mildly amusing distraction at the end of the world. And the kiss was probably just to underline the drama of his 'death'. Cas, who didn't see my reaction, read quietly for a while before he started talking again: "Well he goes on and on for quite a while about porn stars and, uh-" "Cas, please." Interrupted Sam, guessing how I was feeling about the things he just said.

Cas looked at me briefly and continued: "Okay, so Gabriel was captured and delivered to Asmodeus. 'For years, I knew nothing but endless torture. Asmodeus, once the weakest of Hell's princes, grew strong by feeding on my grace.' " I looked at Gabriel again and felt how anger cut through the pain, I hated Asmodeus for doing that to Gabriel, even though he left me for some porn stars I still loved him and didn't want anyone to hurt him. Well, obviously his intellect is intact." Stated Castiel after a few minutes of grave silence. "So, why isn't he talking to us?" I whispered, not trusting my voice to conceal my mixed feelings. "I don't know, maybe he can't." Answered Castiel, his voice filled with helplessness. "Or maybe he's choosing not to. Maybe he thinks it's safer that way." Said Sam quietly, sounding like he knew the feeling. I tensed slightly and dropped my head, wishing desperately I could help him.

In an attempt to make things better we helped Gabriel to sit down on the bed and Castiel and I tried to heal him. Neither of us had any luck, his injuries were too severe. Castiel looked at us, his hands still on Gabriel's head: "It's not possible for an angel to heal an archangel. I'm just trying to jolt his mind into thinking straight." He sighed and removed his hands from Gabriel. "Even then, it's possible that he's lost." I breathed in shakily, holding back my tears, I just couldn't bear the thought that Gabriel might be lost forever. Sam silently put his hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me.

After that Castiel left, while I and Sam stayed with Gabriel, keeping him company. It was silent for a long while, neither I nor Sam knew what to say. Finally, Sam stood up and faced Gabriel with an intense gaze. "Gabriel, you have to dig yourself out of this hole. Look, I know you think it's safer inside. No more torture. No more pain. No more expectations." He sighed and looked at Gabriel, searching for something that would indicate that he understood what Sam was saying. But he just stared into nothing, his eyes empty. So Sam continued: "I've been there. You were nothing like your family. You sure as hell weren't like your dad. Me either. And just like you, I got out. Or I thought I got out. But then.." He took a step closer to Gabriel, still looking at him intensely. "Then, my family needed me. And this is my life. No matter how many times I've tried to fight it, this is what I was put here to do. This is where I make the world a better place." He sighed again and shrugged his shoulders in a resigned way. "And sure, yeah, hookers in Monte Carlo, sounds great, but your family needs you. Jack, your nephew, needs you. The world needs you. We need you." He paused and looked briefly at me, before turning his head back to Gabriel: "Angel needs you." He said quietly and let Gabriel time to process his words. "So please, help us." He said finally.

It was silent for a few minutes and just when I thought Sam's speech didn't get through to Gabriel at all, he said something: "Porn stars. They were porn stars, Sam." His eyes glowed in a bright blue and the ghost of his old, cocky grin flickered across his face. As much as I was relieved that we got Gabriel back, I was also hurt that the first words he said after years of torture were about porn stars. Porn stars. Barely able to hold back my tears I stormed out of the room, through the long corridors of the bunker, in my room, where I threw myself in my bed and started crying. I knew I should be happy that Gabriel was alive and still kind of sane, but I couldn't ban the image of him with some porn stars of my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he faked his death and took off without a word to me. I thought we had something going on, but the fact that he abandoned me for his freedom told a different story.

Back in Gabriel's room, he barely noticed that I left because he was still not completely himself, Sam and Castiel fed him the other ampoule of his grace to help him recover. Only seconds after that, Sam's phone rang. He picked up and put the person calling on speaker: "Samuel." An all to familiar voice said in a confident tone. Gabriel looked up in horror and jerked back, it was the voice of his torturer. It was Asmodeus. "I hope you're having a pleasant day." Gabriel’s breath quickened and he looked like a cornered animal. "It's come to my attention you boys have something that belongs to me and I'd like it back." Sam and Castiel exchanged worried glances but he answered calmly: "I don't know what you're talking about." "Oh, I believe you do. And I'm gonna give you one chance to return him to me. No harm, no foul." If I were present during that phone call I'd ripped the phone out of Sam's hand to give him a piece of my mind. But Sam just stayed cool as he answered simply: "I'm hanging up." Asmodeus didn't like that: "Do not hang up on me." He roared furiously. "Gabriel is of no use to you in his current condition. Should you choose to resist me, I have no choice but to take him by force." Gabriel looked horrified at his words and panted fearfully. "I will reduce you and that sad little bunker of yours to ashes. You've got ten minutes." With that said he just hung up, leaving Gabriel on the edge of a panic attack and two very worried boys.

Meanwhile, I was in my room, trying to get myself together again. By the time the bunker went into the emergency mode, I'd stopped crying and was almost back to normal again, or at least almost ready to act normal again. As soon as the lights went red and the alarm started blaring, I burst out of my room and rushed to the entrance, almost running into Sam and Cas, who were headed to the same direction. "What's going on?!" I asked tensed, a knife in my hand. "Asmodeus. He's coming for Gabriel." Sam answered courtly and fastened his pace. When we reached the conference room we were immediately attacked by a bunch of demons, but we could handle them without a problem. The problems started when Asmodeus himself appeared, grinning arrogantly at us.

"Your warding wasn't designed for the likes of me, Samuel." He pinned the three of us against a wall, using his powers and looked at us, mildly amused. "I've come to claim what's mine." We had to watch helplessly how two demons dragged Gabriel across the room towards Asmodeus, he looked confused and scared. Asmodeus walked towards him and patted his cheek with an arrogant smile. "Oh, I missed you, boy." Gabriel whimpered and turned his head away from him. Asmodeus chuckled and took a step back, Gabriel squirmed under his gaze and looked up to him like a frightened child. "I'm gonna have to punish you rather severely, I'm afraid." He said, trying to achieve a fatherly tone, but it just sounded slimy. Gabriel breathed heavily and looked around, his eyes pleading for help. Watching a pathetic little demon like Asmodeus treating a powerful, several millennia's old archangel like a naughty child made me furious and gave me new strength. Somehow I managed to break free from Asmodeus' grip and jumped at him with my knife directed at his heart. But he saw me coming and with just a single movement of his hand, I was thrown against a wall again. This time I wasn't so lucky, my head slammed against the wall and I immediately lost my consciousness, causing me to miss all the following action.

Asmodeus watched Gabriel with a while, a satisfied smile on his lips. Finally, he nodded towards the stairs and the demons holding him dragged him up the stairs and towards the bunker door. Asmodeus straightened his suit in a business-like manner and turned towards the boys. "As for you two.." he raised his fists and slowly started closing them, causing Sam and Castiel to squirm in pain. Apparently, he had forgotten about unconscious me, lying beneath the table. Meanwhile, Gabriel and the two demons dragging him reached the top of the stairs, where Gabriel struggled and overwhelmed them. He threw them both over the railing and leaned on it, panting. Asmodeus frowned and shifted his attention to the battered archangel: "Gabriel. What are you doing, son?" His voice was amused, bursting with confidence. If I had been awake this statement would've made me furious. Asmodeus smiled sadistically: "You know too well what I can do to you." The angel didn't react, his head hanging low, his hands tightly gripped the railing. Asmodeus frowned, now getting angry, and shouted: "I broke you!"

Gabriel slowly lifted his head, eyes glowing bright blue. "You're too weak!" Asmodeus shouted again, now really furious. With a sudden movement, Gabriel straightened his back while at the same time his appearance changed back to normal. His wounds disappeared, so did the blood and the dirt and his hair were clean and fluffy again. With still glowing eyes he looked down at Asmodeus, unfolding his wings as a demonstration of power. The look on Asmodeus' face changed as he slowly began to realise that Gabriel was finding back to his old self, hectically he produced a lightning bolt and threw it at Gabriel. But the archangel casually slapped it to the side, cracked his head a little and looked at Asmodeus with cold eyes: "Not anymore." He tilted his head a little and said in his usual, mocking tone: "Oh, by the way, I always hated that dumbass suit." And with that, leaving Asmodeus no time to react, his hand jerked forward, his eyes started glowing and Asmodeus slowly started smoking. Gabriel twisted his hand a little and the smoke turned into fire. Asmodeus looked at his hands in horror and started screaming, Gabriel smiled and watched satisfied how his torturer burned to death. And I was still unconscious, which really annoys me now, I would've enjoyed seeing him burn.

Afterwards (after they brought me to my room) Cas and Sam told Gabriel everything that'd happened, including how we want to save Mary Winchester and his nephew Jack from an alternate universe. It was a lot to take in and Gabriel, freshly recovered, was a little overwhelmed. "Whoa- too much information." He stuttered. "Slow down, I'm not processing." He groaned and massaged his temples. Castiel sighed: "And there's more... Michael wants to come to this earth and destroy it. We may need your help to fight him." Gabriel slowly raised his eyebrows, obviously hoping that he'd heard wrong: "What?" Sam chuckled softly at his reaction: "Yeah." It was not a happy chuckle tho, more like a 'yeah, I know, we're fucked' chuckle. Gabriel looked at Sam with a 'please tell me you're joking' face. Sam sighed and said with fake joy: "Welcome to the team."

The archangels face showed his disapproval: "Uh- yeah. Not so much." He said slowly and leaned back. "I mean, thank you for the rescue and for the redemption arc, but uh-" he slowly stood up while speaking "I'm not really a 'team' guy." Sam looked at him like a lost puppy while Cas, already knew what came next, looked annoyed. Gabriel, not caring about any of them, continued speaking: "Sooo, I'm gonna bounce, okay? Uhm, but, you know, it's been- uhm- What's the opposite of fun?" He tilted his head a little, pretending to think about it, then answered the question himself: "That." He walked past the two boys, seemingly not caring at all. "No. Gabriel, don't- you- you can't just walk way!" Stuttered Sam, still looking like a lost puppy. "If Michael comes here, he will end this world." He continued after Gabriel just walked past him. The angel sighed and turned around: "And the last time the world was ending, I put my money on you." He said and pointed at Sam with a finger gun. "I think you can pull it off again." He turned around and started walking again when Castiel spoke: "No. You cannot turn your back on your father's creation." His face was serious as he when he appealed to his sense of honour. Gabriel turned around again and looked at the other angel almost pitiful: "Castiel, my father turned his back to his creation." After no-one replied he shrugged and said: "Guess it just runs in the family" sounding a little bitter and before anyone could answer he was gone.

That was the moment when I walked into the room, I could just hear the flutter of his wings and frowned in confusion, I was still dizzy from my head injury. "What the hell is going on?" I asked Sam and Cas and they told me everything. "He- he left?" I whispered, close to crying. Again. Nobody said anything. Cas looked at me with pity. Sam pulled me into a hug. When Dean got back from apocalypse world, without Ketch, we found out that he wasn't able to find Mary and Jack and Ketch decided to stay in apocalypse world to prepare everything for another rescue attempt. He was not happy when he found out that Gabriel took off and we haven't had any archangel grace left.

Two weeks later, after we found Rowena, we finally knew were Gabriel was and of course we immediately took off to the town where Rowena's tracking spell told us he was. I was not sure how I should feel, now that we had a real clue where Gabriel was. I was still hurt about how he acted but I also missed him, I've been missing him for over 7 years and his sudden appearance brought all the feelings back. I wanted at least talk to him, maybe shout at him. Arguing from the other end of the motel room brought me back to reality and I decided to see what Sam and Dean were fighting about this time. Turned out, that Sam wanted to stay longer in this town, to check every possibility, while Dean wanted to move on. "We don't have time Sammy!" He shouted angrily, but also desperate, he was like this all the time since he came back from apocalypse world without Mary and Jack. "Mom and Jack, they could be hurt or worse. And we're stuck here in this stupid motel room looking for some runaway, dumbass archangel who doesn't wanna be found!"

Sam frowned and opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say anything I decided to involve myself and maybe try to calm things down. "Dean, calm down, we still have a chance of finding Gabriel. I mean, yeah, Rowena isn't the most trustworthy person but she is a powerful witch after all." I said in a calm voice, hoping I could reason with him. But he just rolled his eyes: "This town has more than five houses, Angel, what do you think is gonna happen? That Gabriel just comes here like 'hey fellas, I'm here to help you'?" I opened my mouth to protest but was interrupted by someone knocking on our door. I exchanged glances with the brothers and together we walked to the door, weapons ready. Dean carefully opened it and what was behind that door took us all by surprise.

It was Gabriel, with messy hair and a bloody shirt. He smiled weakly at our dumbstruck faces: "Hey fellas, looking for me?" Slowly we put our guns down and let him in. I wanted to heal his wound but Dean wouldn't let me, he didn't want Gabe getting strong enough to disappear again, so I let Sam handle it. It was bad being so close to him and knowing that I never meant anything to him, but it was worse that he acted like he didn't know me. He barely looked at me and only shot me a curious look when I offered to heal him. I mean I never told him about my powers, but it still hurt to see him act that way. I tried to ban these thoughts from my mind and watched Sam patching up Gabriel instead. "Alright, this is gonna hurt a little." He said while he bandaged him. "A little?" Gabriel groaned and shut his eyes in pain. I couldn't fight a smile, guess he wasn't used to being actually hurt.

"How'd you know we were here?" Sam asked after he finished and looked at the wounded archangel. Dean and I stood beside him, watching him with emotionless faces, probably the first time I was with Dean when it comes to deal with the Trickster. "Come on." Said Trickster chuckled and sat up. "I felt your witch's tracking spell the second she laid it on me. Tasted like haggis." "So now you're in trouble?" Sam asked casually while putting away his medical stuff. "What gave you that idea?" Gabriel asked, trying to sound as cool as always. Dean lifted his eyebrows and answered: "Well, you show up at our doorstep, bleeding like a stuck pig." "This?" Gabriel laughed, gesturing at his wound. "Eh you know, I roll into town, have some fun, stumble into the wrong poker game, take a guy's money... his wife.." He shrugged. "Things get messy." None of us believed him for a second, I was the one to voice my disbelief: "You're trying to tell us you came here to have some fun?" I asked with raised eyebrows. "Yeah, this isn't exactly the Riviera." Dean scoffed. "I know right?" Gabe laughed and then looked at me curiously. I hated it, like he never met me.

Then he cleared his throat and got ready to stand up: "Yeah, so anyway, uhm- I don't suppose you guys have any more of my grace laying around, right? 'Cause, uh, the tank's a little low." He looked up hopefully and I reluctantly admitted to myself that he looked adorable like that. "Did you drain it killing Asmodeus?" Sam asked, sounding a little worried. "And ditching you," Gabriel added and I winced, another thing that hurt. "I'll recharge eventually but uh- until then..." He didn't finish the sentence and looked a little desperate. "Whatever we didn't use on you, we used to open up a rift." Dean finally said. The archangels face showed literally 'oh fuck' and he was silent for a while. "...cool" he finally said. "Super duper. Okay. Well, uh, in that case, gentlemen and lady, I must bid you my goodb-" he groaned loudly as he tried to stand up and his wound hurt. "Yeah, no-" he said, leaning back again. "Maybe after a little siesta." With that said he laid down on the couch and closed his eyes. The fact that he actually fell asleep worried me a little, even though I tried to ignore that. We used the time he slept to discuss what we should do with him.

"I don't get why he's here," Sam said thoughtfully and looked at the sleeping angel. "Yeah, well, right now I don't care. He's here and we're gonna keep him here." Dean said and before I could say something Gabriel woke up in a jolt. "Where am I?" He mumbled confused until he saw us sitting at the table. "Oh, right. You." He sighed and touched his wound carefully. "Ouch." He winced and looked down at his stomach. Sam stood up. "Gabriel, look, we don't really know what's going on here." "We need your help," I said bluntly, staring at him with a neutral expression. "Uh-" he started, confused about my behaviour "Yeah, not a big joiner." He chuckled. Dean looked at him and raised his eyebrows triggered. "So you have better things to do than save the world?" "Exactly." He answered defensively. Dean and I exchanged glances while Gabriel tried to stand up again. "Look, this has been great, a real thrill, but uh- I just came here for the silver stuff. And since you don't have it anymore-" he lifted his suitcase and jacket and stood up with a barley concealed grunt "-it's time for me to say sayonara."

In exactly that moment the door flew open and two men stood in the doorway. "We're here for the angel." Said the big, muscular one with a Scandinavian accent, while the other one, a smaller, slimmer man (more a boy than a man), just flexed with his nicely done hair. For a second under the big one's features glowed a dangerous-looking face with horns, while the slim one had a horses head underneath his human face. "What the hell are you guys?" Asked Dean horrified, then whispered to Gabriel, loud enough for everyone to hear: "The hell are these guys?" "Oh, just a couple of Norse demigods." Answered the angel in his typical, casual way. "Demigods?" I snapped and raised my knife, ready to fight. It followed a brief fight that ended with Gabriel stabbing the big guy with a wooden sword that looked like a katana. When his body dropped to the ground the other dude froze and stared at Gabriel with wide eyes. "Hey, handsome" the angel teased "are you ready to die?" The boy broke free from his paralysis and ran away. As soon as he was out of sight, Gabriel lowered the sword and held his wound, groaning.

Dean relaxed a little and looked at Gabriel. "You okay?" He asked, even tho the answer was obvious. "Yeah, yeah.. I'll go after him in a sec... I just.. need a minute." Answered Gabriel panting, still holding his wound. "Wrong." Replied Dean simply and pulled out a pair of angel-proof handcuffs. "You're not going anywhere." Gabriel looked at the handcuffs and sighed frustrated, but didn't seem surprised. So we tied Gabriel to the bedframe and went to get rid of the body, laying in our room. "You know, you guys are lucky I'm low on power, considering what I did to the last guy who locked me up." Dean took off his jacket unimpressed. "You know what?" He asked. "We said we'd let you go, just as soon as you tell us what the hell is going on here." Gabriel looked away "yeah.." he clicked his tongue "it's not a fun story." "Well, we just broke into a junkyard and stuffed the body of a demigod into a car crusher. So I think you owe us some answers." Sam and Dean threw their jackets at their beds and sat down in front of Gabe, while I leaned against the wall.

“Okay, they’re not really demigods." Gabriel started, which just got him unimpressed stares from each of us, so he continued, sounding almost defensive. "Look, the whole Norse pantheon is its own weird thing." He looked at us, checking if we were listening. "Think of them more like, uh, God begotten monsters-" "Yeah, whatever. What did they want with you?" Interrupted Dean impatiently. Our 'prisoner' sighed, knowing his stalling time was over: "I killed their brother." He said directly. Sam looked at him like 'you did WHAT?' but then just asked why. The archangel was silent for a moment and then started he started to talk: "Remember when I told you what happened after I faked my death at that motel?" He asked and I closed my eyes, knowing what was about to come. "Yeah, of course, you went to uhh- Monte Carlo with a bunch of porn stars." Dean's reaction was soft chuckle like 'niiice dude', but then he was serious again.

"Yeah, well, I left a few parts out." Gabriel took on narrating again: "After Lucifer 'killed me', I needed to lay low. Luckily, I used to hang with a pretty resourceful crew. Found me a real top-shelf hideaway." He then told us about this fancy penthouse, the porn stars, how he played poker and so on. "I had it made." He sighed. "All the booze I could drink, all the uh- entertainment, I could handle.." Sam saw how my gaze hardened and quickly interrupted before he could continue: "Okay. Why don't we just skip to the end?" Dean looked a little disappointed but seemed to understand, while Gabriel was kind of offended, but then he sighed and skipped, as requested, to the end of his story: "So this is how it ended. The two dudes from earlier, along with their brother, captured me in my sleep and somehow managed to sedate me. By the time I came to, they had me sold to Asmodeus."

"Why would they do that?" Asked Sam, looking confused. Gabriel looked at Sam like he was stupid: "Helloo? Lucifer? In case you don't remember, there was an apocalypse brewing at the time." "We remember." Sam courtly answered. "Well, Vegas odds had my bro pulling off a big win." "Yeah? And whose fault is that?" Dean asked coldly. Gabe pressed his lips together and didn't answer at first. "Hmmm." He said finally. "Fenrir, Sleipnir and Narfi were just trying to cover their asses. They needed to get rid of me before Lucifer figured out where they had me hidden. But selling me to that Kentucky fried asshole? For them? That was all profit." His speech grew a bit heated towards the end, but who would blame him? Dean nodded slowly and then asked: "So you want revenge?" Gabriel rolled his eyes: "Well, obviously. Roasting Asmodeus was satisfying- for a hot minute. But you know one thing better than killing him? Slaughtering them all."

Sam nodded slowly. "But since you're low on grace, you had to do it the old fashioned way. With wood." The archangel smirked: "Don't let anybody ever tell you, you're just a pretty face. Sam stood up from his chair and looked down at Gabe: "All right. Anyway, if there are only three, uh- gods, monsters, whatever-" he walked over to Gabriel suitcase with the swords and opened it "how come there are four swords?" "Oh, that top one? That is for the man with the plan, the architect of my torture and my own, personal public enemy number one. Their papa. Loki." His eyes were dark as he spoke out his name and a shudder ran down my spine, he was scary when he had that look on his face. "Hold on-" Dean was confused, "I thought Loki was you?" Gabriel then explained how he once saved Loki and therefore the god of mischief let him use his identity. We were silent for a while, then I asked: "And you saw Loki in Monte Carlo?" He looked at me, again with that thoughtful, curious look in his eyes: "Well, I needed someplace to hide." He then answered, shrugging his shoulders. “And he’d already helped me once.”

Dean nodded slowly then looked away and scoffed: "You know, none of this would've happened if you'd just stuck around and helped us fight Lucifer." Gabriel looked at him offended: "Hey, I did help you!" Yeah, but you didn't stick around. I thought and looked away for a second. But Gabriel was now in defence mode. "Casa Erotica?" Oh yeah, I remembered this. I cried. Good times. "You call that help?" Asked Sam, in disbelief. "I call that art." Gabriel shot back. "But, yes, without me, you two chuckleheads and that girl-" Really Gabe? Just "that girl"? Thanks. "-never would've known how to throw Lucifer back in the cage!" Dean was not impressed: "Yeah, but instead of giving us a hand, you ran and you just did it again when you ditched us in the bunker!" His voice grew louder every second and this time, I didn't try to calm him down, I agreed silently. "Alright, Dean-" Sam tried to stop him but Gabriel got in the way: "I have more important things to do than to join your little band of merry men." He spat back. "What you're doing. This. This is not important-" Dean started to argue back but Gabriel cut him off. "Every day, Asmodeus tortured me! Every day! He fed off my grace for years! He used me. He debased me. Until I was-" he broke off and calmed down a bit. Nobody dared to say something until he continued. "What I went through, you don't forgive. Everyone who had a hand in it will die. Get me?!" He asked aggressively.

Sam wanted to answer but now I had enough. "Of course we get you." I snapped and came closer. "Everyone of us gets you," I growled. "Dean went to hell for fucking 40 years. He was tortured every single day for 40 years! Every day! He got the mark of Cain and became a demon! Sam's soul was in the cage with Lucifer and Michael for 120 years, being tortured by the devil himself! He got possessed by an angel and had to watch him kill one of his friends! And I too, know torture, physical and mental. (I deliberately didn't go into detail here, it was too personal) We all lost so much over the years. Friends. Family. But we didn't give up. We didn't run. We kept going and saved the fucking world more than once. So would you stop thinking about yourself for one goddamn minute and get yourself together? We need you. The world needs you." I started screaming but ended with barely a whisper. Everyone stared at me with wide eyes. I scoffed and left the room, I needed alone time to get my feelings under control.

After I left, Sam and Dean stared at Gabriel, waiting for him to say something. After a few minutes of complete silence, he looked up. "I guess-" he cleared his throat "I guess she's right.. I'm sorry guys." He just seemed tired now. Neither Sam nor Dean answered, but their gazes softened a little bit. "Okayyy awkward-" Gabriel tried to find back to his usual, unbothered self. "Can you at least tell me who that girl was who just shouted at me? I feel like I know her but I can't put my finger on it.." That was the wrong thing to say. "You don't remember her?" Dean growled and glared at him murderously. "Should I?" Gabe raised an eyebrow, more confused than scared. "Angel? The girl who lives with us in the bunker? The half nymph?" Sam tried to jolt his memory. Gabriel's eyes widened in shock: "That was her? That was my Angel?!" "She's not your Angel! And she never will be, not after what you put her through." Snapped Dean and stabbed him with his gaze. "What I put her through? I-I didn't do anything to her!" Gabriel exclaimed, truly shocked by the accusation.

Sam sighed: "You died. She never recovered from that. She didn't eat properly for weeks. She didn't go out. She cried every night. Gabriel, that girl loves you with every cell of her body and after she learned that you went to Monte Carlo to "shack up with porn stars".. well it hurt her almost worse than the fact that you let her in the dark about you being alive." Gabriel's head dropped to the ground. "I was just trying to protect her.." He looked up to the boys: "You have to believe me! I never meant to hurt her! I love her!" His eyes were desperate and the brothers knew he was telling the truth. "Alright." Sam finally sighed. "But you need to tell her that." He said with a serious face and unlocked the handcuffs that kept the archangel in check. "Woah- you're just gonna let him go?" Dean objected, not happy with his younger brother. Sam sighed. "Dean.." Dean just rolled his eyes and raised his hands: "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go talk to her." Though it was clear that he wasn't exactly happy about that. Gabriel sighed in relief and stood up. "Thank you, I'll be back." He walked to the door and froze. "Uhm... Guys?" Sam and Dean looked at each other alerted and rushed to see what Gabriel had discovered. In front of the door lay a strand of my hair, a lollipop and a piece of paper saying 'catch me if you can'. "What the hell..?" Dean asked, looking at Gabriel for an explanation. Gabe sighed and picked up the lollipop. "Loki." He said with a dark look in his eyes. Sam looked at him horrified while Dean slammed him against the wall, furiously. "So you're saying that because of your stupid little revenge plans, a Norse god captured Angel?" "Dean, we don't have time for this! We have to get her back!" He said urgently and Dean reluctantly let the archangel go. "Okay, Gabriel, do you have any idea where Loki might be?" Asked Sam, trying to stay calm and focus.

You're probably wondering how I got into this situation, well, lemme tell ya. As you might remember I left the room after I was done shouting at Gabriel. I planned to go for a walk to cool off a little and to get a grip on my emotions, but then someone knocked me out with a baseball bat. (That was quite painful.) When I woke up again I was in a luxurious suite, apparently a penthouse, I looked around in confusion and noticed a guy standing by the window, his back turned to me. Apparently, he sensed that I was awake and turned to me, smiling, a lollipop in his hand. I gasped as I saw his face: "Gabriel?!" Then the rational part of my brain kicked in: "No you're not Gabriel, you are- are you Loki?" The dude looking like Gabriel smiled and nodded appreciatively: "Smart girl." I probably should be terrified, held captive by the god of mischief, but I was actually delighted, I always had a thing for Norse mythology.

"Amazing!" I exclaimed, causing Loki to raise his eyebrows, visible confused, apparently not the reaction he had expected. "Excuse me?" "Actually, I'm a fan." I grinned at him and spend the following minutes discussing Norse mythology with Loki, a dream come true. But suddenly we heard noises from outside the door and Loki sighed. "I'm afraid I might have to kill you soon, although I really do like you." I nodded solemnly: "You need to pressure Sam and Dean, eh?" I guessed. "That's okay, I understand." My reaction to someone telling me that they would kill me might seem a little odd but frankly, I didn't care if I would live or die, plus I was pretty sure that even Loki couldn't defeat Sam and Dean. "You sure are something, I understand why he likes you so much." The god murmured, watching me thoughtfully. "He?" I asked in confusion, but Loki didn't get to answer, as the door burst open and the Winchesters, lead by Gabriel, stormed into the room.

I was mildly surprised to see him, but then again, he wanted his revenge so it made sense. "Ahh Gabriel, glad you decided to show up," Loki exclaimed, greeting the archangel like an old friend. "And you brought your friends, how nice of you." He chuckled and eyed the Winchesters in amusement. "What do you want, Loki?" He growled, a wooden sword in his hand. The god's face turned hard and he pulled a knife, holding it to my throat. "I'm gonna see you suffer and then I will kill you." Now I was confused, why was he threatening Gabriel with my death? "Don't bother, Gabriel won't care about my death. You would piss of Sam and Dean tho, and believe me- you don't want that." I said calm and collected, not caring about the cold knife at my throat. I did not expect Gabriel's reaction to Loki's words tho: "Don't you fucking dare killing her!" He growled and took a step closer to us. "Ah-ah, be careful!" Loki said in a cheerful voice and increased the pressure on my throat, causing it to cut into my skin and I felt a small rinsal of blood running down my throat, Gabriel immediately froze, watching me with wide, anxious eyes.

Surprised I realized that he actually cared about me, at least enough to not want me dead. "You must know, that Gabriel here cares about you quite a lot," Loki said, his face close to my ear. He smirked at Gabriel and the Winchesters provocative. "He wouldn't shut up about you." I looked at Gabriel, eyes wide with disbelief. "He does?" Gabriel smiled at me weakly but didn't respond. "Oh yes, of course." Loki laughed delighted and stepped away from me again. He was about to say something but before he could he was attacked by Dean, who had sneaked up from behind. Then Gabriel appeared in front of him, stabbing the wooden sword into his heart before he could even react. Meanwhile, Sam freed me from the ropes that strapped me to the chair, then he hugged me tightly. After he released me, Dean pulled me into a hug, relieved I was still alive and well. "Alright let's go." He finally said and let me go. I nodded but looked down on Loki's body one last time. "I actually liked him." I sighed and left the room, following Sam and Dean. Gabriel followed after me and it took all my strength to not look back at him. I was really confused about what Loki had told me and how Gabriel behaved. What did all that mean?

Sam and Dean were waiting at the car and I was about to join them when Gabriel held me back. "Can I talk to you for a second?" He asked, with unusual seriousness. "Uh- sure." I nodded, not knowing how I should act in front of him. He pulled me out of Sam and Dean's sight and took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry I left you. That I didn't tell you I'm alive. But I was- I was just trying to protect you! If Lucifer found out about my feelings for you, he would've hurt you to control me and I couldn't let that happen." He sighed and looked at me regretfully. "I thought of you all the time. Even with the porn stars when I did- uh.. things.. with them." I cringed, too much information. Then I sighed and looked up to him, about to say something but he was faster: "I love you Angel and I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe me!" He pleaded while I was caught off guard by his sincerity. "I- I believe you." I finally said and I could see him relax. "And I love you too," I added and realized it was true as soon as I said it. I could see Gabriel's eyes light up with joy and he leaned forward to kiss me when we heard someone clearing his throat in a very angry way. Simultaneously we turned around and saw Dean looking at us with his arms folded across his chest: "Are we ready to go?" He asked and then looked at Gabriel: "Are you coming?" Gabriel straightened himself and nodded: "Yes, I'm gonna help you safe the world. And your mum and Jack." "Great. Let's go." Was his only reaction. Then he took my arm and pulled me gently away from Gabriel and towards the car. The archangel just rolled his eyes at Dean and then followed us.

Nearly immediately after Gabriel sat down next to me I fell asleep against his shoulder, it was an exhausting day. When Dean noticed how close we were, he deliberately made a swerve, that caused me to glide away from Gabriel and now leaned against the window, still sleeping tho. "Dean-" Sam sighed and shook his head. Gabriel glared at Dean in annoyance but decided to let it go. Dean just grinned and drove steadily towards the bunker.

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quiet-onset · 5 years

Text

Car Rides

Pairing: Artist!Steve Rogers x Black!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Some misplaced anger, some angst, otherwise pretty fluffy

A/N: Hey look, I finally wrote something! I have a bunch of WIPs that I’ve been stuck on, so I just sat down and wrote something new. The car ride is based on So In Love by Jill Scott featuring Anthony Hamilton (aka an absolute bop)!

Something was a little off with you. Steve had noticed it earlier in the week. Somewhere between sweet and sour, his girl and not at the same time. You left early and came back late. The kisses you left on his lips seemed more out of routine than out of love. He saw you closing in on yourself and tried his hardest to stop you. Still, he could only do so much.

He sat on the couch of your apartment, sketching your face with a small smile on his own. He would always joke that he didn’t need you to pose for him anymore, that he had your face and body memorized. It made you laugh. Like really laugh, head tilted back and small crinkles near your eyes. Still, it was less of a joke than the absolute truth for Steve. He knew not just what you looked like, but the energy you carried about you. An aura that never failed to make the people around you smile just by being you. He had that ingrained in his mind and heart.

The door opened suddenly, and he glanced over the couch. “Hey babe.” He called.

When you came into view, you had the biggest frown he’d ever seen. You were drenched, having got caught in the rain without an umbrella. Your curls were slowly but surely shrinking, ruining your carefully styled hair. You were mumbling to yourself as you dropped your bag loudly to the floor. You walked straight past him without a word to the closet that held towels and such.

Steve followed after with a crease in his brow, catching up quickly. He leaned against the opposite wall as he watched you aggressively look for a proper towel. Crossing his arms over his chest, he spoke playfully. “Hi Steve, how was your day? It was great, thanks for asking.”

“Steve, please.”

“I was only joking, baby.” He told you. He stepped closer as you finally pulled out a towel, caging you in with his arms. “What’s going on with you, hm?”

“Nothing.”

“What happened to communication? You gotta talk to me, so I can help.”

“You can’t help.”

“How do you know that?”

“God, Steve, stop!” You pushed him away lightly, prompting him to take a step back. “I know you like to think you’re some hero that can help everybody, but you’re not! You can’t help me, so just let me be upset for awhile!”

Steve stood speechless as you stomped away to the bathroom to shower. He leaned against the wall, his eyes fluttering closed when you slammed the door. He understood that it wasn’t him you were upset with, that you were only taking it out on him because he was there. That didn’t make it hurt any less.

He didn’t know what he could do to help, but he did know of one thing you always seemed to enjoy no matter what.

Fifteen minutes later, you exited the bathroom in a towel, glancing at Steve from down the hall. You’d had some time to reflect and immediately felt the guilt bubbling at the pit of your stomach. You parted your lips to speak, but he beat you to the punch. “I wanna take you somewhere.” He told you.

You blinked. “Why?”

“Just get dressed? Please?”

Steve waited in the living room, continuing his sketch. He was just starting the coloring, shading your skin a beautiful, rich brown, when you entered the room. He looked up at you and smiled. It was so simple, a pair of black leggings, one of his sweatshirts — a big red one that you’d claimed as your own a long time ago — and a headwrap so your hair so could dry in peace. You tugged on the sleeves shyly as his eyes lingered on the top. “It’s laundry day. I hope you don’t mind.”

He smiled. “I never mind.” Steve grabbed his car keys and offered his hand. “C’mon.”

You had no idea where he was taking you. He’d been driving on some back roads for awhile, twenty minutes maybe. There wasn’t any talking, just the music playing softly in the background. The rain had stopped just before you left, so Steve let the top down to let in the fresh, wet air. You were practicing your apology in your head as the song transitioned from one to the next, then Steve smiled. He reached over a bit to turn the music up. “You remember this song?”

You were silent as the intro played. You did remember the song. Sam had snatched Steve’s sketchpad away and held it at a distance, holding it hostage until he agreed to go out with their group that night. Still, Sam had driven straight past their usual club, jokingly saying they needed some better music to dance to, but that new club offered much more than just good music. He saw you across the room with your friends, singing along to all the songs and dancing in your seats. It wasn’t until this very song that you decided you had to get up and dance. You’d practically ran to the dancing, not even bothering to put your drink down.

Soon after the song had started, you finally noticed him. You smiled and beckoned him over, a silent proposal for a dance. Steve dropped everything to get to you. He was probably in the middle of a conversation when he left, but he couldn’t have cared less. He had tunnel vision, and you were the light at the end of it, shining as bright as the Northern Star.

He’d danced with you for the entire song and the next. And the next. At least half an hour without words. Just smiles and spins, the warmth of you pressed against his chest as you both rocked back and forth in time with the song.

You were only brought out from your thoughts as you heard Steve quietly singing the song. “I’m glad this week is over, I need to get away.”

You couldn’t help the small smile forming on your lips as his singing got louder, the car moving just a bit faster, his thumb tapping against the steering wheel. He smiled as he sang and grabbed your hand. That’d earned him a short chuckle and a playful shake of your head. As the first chorus ended, he pointed to you with his other hand. “Don’t leave me hanging, doll.”

You rolled your eyes, and your smile grew. “I see you cross the room, talking to some men.”

Steve whooped it up as you sang, making you laugh through the words. As the song progressed, you were both singing loudly and slightly off-key. You’d both burst out laughing when you finally passed a car, the older couple in the car looking at you both like you were delusional. For the first time that week, your heart felt light and free. You felt like you could enjoy yourself, like you could be yourself.

When the song ended, Steve had finally reached his destination, a cliff that overlooked the city, the lights resembling the stars that were never visible. He left the car on, opting to let the music keep playing softly. He exited the car and jogged around to your side to pull your door open. You smiled and took his hand, stepping out of the car.

You both settled on the hood of the car, hands intertwined between you. You looked over at him and sighed happily. He smiled when he felt your eyes on him, sneakily glancing back at you. “Feeling better?”

“Much.”

“Good.”

“Steve,” You sat up and pulled your hand from his, fiddling with your own. “I’m sorry for earlier. I was just so upset and angry, and you did absolutely nothing wrong. You were better than good, actually. Just absolutely perfect, I was just being stupid—”

“Hey.” He grabbed your hand again. “Your feelings aren’t stupid. I appreciate the apology though, baby. I just want to be there for you.”

“And next time, I’ll let you.”

“Pinky promise?” He held out his pinky finger.

He shook your head and chuckled, linking your finger with his. “Pinky promise.”

“No takebacks.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Steve gazed at you, his heart pounding against his chest as you beamed down at him. He took a screenshot of this moment in his mind. Your wide smile, the crinkles by your eyes, the singular, still wet curl that peeked from under your headwrap. The lights from the city bouncing off your skin. He made a mental note to take a photo before you both left, one he could sketch from. But right now, he had one thing on his mind.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled, scrolled, scrolled, until he found the song, turning it up obnoxiously loud. You laughed loudly as he slid off the hood and offered his hand. “Dance with me?”

“How could I not?”

And you were back to the club. Smiles and spin, close proximity and warmth. Only this time, the song lived up to its title.

---

Forever Tags: @kimmy-h-life, @thewordofthenerd, @wishuponastarlana, @here-for-your-bullshit, @bethbat

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #marvel x reader #marvel x black!reader #artist!steve rogers #marvel fanfiction

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slafkovskys · 5 years

Text

but everything’s the same / a. turcotte

my masterlist!

title from suitcase by mary j. blige

you watched as the raindrop slid down the window. the plane had pulled up forever ago and now you were just waiting to board, your one way ticket to chicago resting on your thigh. the image of the admissions woman’s face when you told her you had no plans of returning to wisconsin was still burned into your mind. she had asked, “are you sure?”

yes, you had said, i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.

with a few clicks and a digital signature, you’re enrollment at wisco was no more. you hadn’t even been able to fish out your cell phone and let your parents know of your decision. you had an idea of what they were going to say. you weren’t ready for that.

you can’t help but to think of what could’ve been, just like you both used to do.

his hand interlocked with yours, both of your eyes going to where they were conjoined. the chicago noise was muffled by the walls of the hotel alex had booked. you were both just sixteen at the time and had lied to your parents about where you were going to be.

“i think i’m gonna marry you,” he had said before shaking his head, “actually, i know i’m gonna marry you.”

“how could you be so sure?” you had asked, moving your head to look up at him. “you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, al. you could find someone else.”

he shook his head and planted a kiss upon your forehead, “i don’t want anyone else. i can’t even see myself without you and i don’t want to.”

that, you think, was the first lie he told you.

you remember the day he left for michigan. you didn’t cry until his flight started boarding and he held you as you did so, saying that he wouldn’t go if you didn’t want him to. you shook your head and pushed him back lightly, telling him how big this was for him and how if he didn’t get on that plane, you would drive him to michigan yourself.

that was also the first time he’d told you he loved you.

you had to beg and plead with your parents to let you drive the four hours to plymouth alone for alex’s first game. your hotel had been booked and you had contacted jack for help with your surprise.

the plan had gone smoothly. jack had snagged you a seat where alex could see you perfectly. when they skated out for warmups, your face hurt from how hard you were smiling. you didn’t even need to be pointed out because he instantly found you and grinned back. he scored that night and pointed at you when he did.

afterwards, you met up in the lobby and you had asked, “how did you know where i was? did jack tell you?”

“nope,” he buried his face in your hair, “i look for you in every crowd.”

now, you wonder how many other girls he had said that same phrase to.

there was a little girl sitting beside her dad across from you. she had on a little floral dress and a pair of sandals. not particularly airport attire, but it held her back none as she giggled and bounced around the terminal. her eyes caught yours and you sent her your best smile.

she slid off her seat and walked the little distance to you. she puts her hand on your knee, “i’m ivey. what’s your name.”

“hi ivey,” you hold out your hand, “i’m y/n.”

“are you sad, y/n? you look sad.” you try and shake your head but the tears that spill out of your eyes betray you. “you’re sad. why?”

“just,” you sniffle, “grown up things i guess.”

she huffs and goes over to her dad, pulling a stuffed bunny from a bag and bringing it over to you. “here you go. when i get sad, i just hug bunny and i get better. sometimes daddy hugs me too. you can hold bunny until you get better and if you don’t have someone to hug you, can i?”

your eyes flick up to her father who sends you a nod. you look back down to the little girl, “i’d really like that, ivey.”

you had applied to wisco the same time as alex did. alex didn’t have any problems because he had been scouted before hand, but you had to spend your nights worrying. you were the one left to lose sleep over what if you didn’t get in. what if everything you two had been talking about since you were kids was only just a dream.

you had kept it a secret from alex when your acceptance letter came in the mail. you waited until he was in chicago for christmas and handed him the envelope. you both sat on the floor of his livingroom, criss cross applesauce and you were biting your lip.

he tore open the envelope and unfolded the paper. you watched as his eyes scanned over it before they flicked up to you. he’d asked, “are you serious?”

you nodded with a grin and erupted into laughter as he tackled you to the floor. he laid on top of you as he peppered your face with kisses. “we’re gonna be together.”

“just like we talked about.”

you can’t help but wonder if he still loved you then.

ivey held onto your hand as your other gripped onto the white fur of the stuffed animal. she was four, loved unicorns and the color pink, and had a best friend named mary. she was on her way home to her mother from visiting her sick grandmother.

the plane would be boarding soon and she had asked what seat you were gonna be in. coincidentally, you were on the same row as her and her father. she nodded and grinned up at you, “good. i can still hold your hand.”

you heard the rumors.

you had many dms telling you of what you had refused to believe was true. he loves you. he would never do that.

you never questioned him until a girl from michigan sent you a dm with a picture attached. it was a picture of alex sitting on a stool in some basement with a girl between his spread legs. you confronted him, chill and mellow and just asking for the truth to which he responded with a shrug and a “bad angle” excuse.

you hung up the phone and threw it across the room. the next day when you got home from school, a vase of flowers was sitting on your kitchen counter with a box that had a bracelet inside. you never brought it up afterwards.

that night though, was the first of many where you cried over alex.

ivey had offered to share her skittles with you. her father, dan you had learned was his name, remarked how she never shared her skittles with anyone.

you felt honored.

she asked you to color with her and even loaned you a blue when you needed to color the sky in. she insisted tigers were purple and lions were green as she colored both in and you told her no different.

you wished you could go back to this stage of innocence. you’d be in a lot less pain.

things only got worse when you finally got to wisconsin. you and alex got an apartment together and he started his freshman season. you were alone frequently but it didn’t really bother you. you made friends to keep you company when your best friend was gone.

you’d get dms from girls in different states with screenshots and videos of alex asking them to hookup. one girl had even sent one where she asked about his girlfriend. he had said it wasn’t anything serious.

you had never been the type to go through his phone, but after that when he’d left it abandoned, you put in his passcode and turned on his location and that, that was your worst mistake.

the plane started boarding five minutes after it was supposed to. when the announcement was made, your new friend looked up at you with wide, blue eyes, “can we still color on the plane?”

“of course,” you promised and she held out her pinky. you wrapped your larger one around hers and she nodded, darting over with her coloring book to dan. you sighed before standing, collecting your own things. you grabbed you pursue and the handle of your carryon before wheeling over to the desk.

you hear a familiar giggle behind you and you turn and crane your head down, “we have the same colored suitcase!”

and, indeed, you had matching yellow suitcases. only hers had some characters from some kids show that you insisted was much cooler than your plain one.

she nodded, “kinda sorta.”

you should’ve ended it back when you saw the picture of the girl between his legs. you should’ve never applied to wisco. you should’ve never accepted his stupid apology gifts. you should’ve told him to fuck off a long time ago.

he said he was just going out with some teammates for a bite to eat after practice. “okay,” you had said, watching as he grabbed his keys, “could you bring me back-”

“a cake batter shake?” he interrupted and turned to face you with a grin. he strides over and leans down to kiss your forehead and then your lips. he hovers over you and smiles lightly, “i love you.”

“i love you too, alex. a whole lot.” you add on the extra bit and watch as he leaves out of the door. instantly, you texted owen asking when practice would be over.

we don’t have practice today? is what he responded.

that’s when you knew. you waited a few minutes and looked up the first flight out of wisco. before you bought your ticket, you looked at where he was.

just for shits and giggles.

when you saw he was at you knew to be a sorority house at four o’clock on a weekday, you nodded and clicked your tongue. you went back and bought your ticket and just stared at the ceiling.

you were there for a while before you stand up and go back to the bedroom the two of you had shared. your eyes linger on the bed where you’d made love only just the night before.

you opened the closet door and pulled out your suitcases. your grabbed your clothes and took time putting them away. the thought crossed your mind to just slash all of his things. rip them apart to mirror the way your heart felt in this exact moment, but you didn’t.

you wouldn’t stoop to his level.

the line moved as quick as you would have expected it to. you began to make small talk with dan as it moved, still holding onto the bunny. both your heads shoot towards where a deep voice shouted, “hey!”

dan rushes to put ivey behind him and you catch her look at you confused. a look of absolute dread crosses your face as you hear the familiar shout of your name, “y/n!”

and there he is. in the same clothes you’d left him in with same disheveled hair and a red mark blooming on his cheek. he spots you and runs toward you, but security stops him. they grab him by the arms as he bags, “baby, please don’t leave. i swear to god i’ll change. i love you so much.”

the security man holding his left arm looks at you, “do you know him?”

you looked at the boy whose eyes were pleading. the boy whom you’d loved for almost half your life and responded, “no sir. i have never seen him before in my life.”

you heard the door open three hours later. alex called your name as you shut your larger suitcase. he walks into the bedroom and freezes, “what’s going on?”

“i’m done.” is all you say, going over the nightstand and grabbing your laptop. you wrap up the cord as he stutters out his response.

“wha- what do you mean you’re done? with what?”

“with you. with us. with wisco. with all of this.” you shove your laptop in your bag and push past him into the living room.

he follows you like a puppy, “why?”

“are you serious?” you snap and turn to face him. “i gave you everything, alex. i was at every game i could be. i missed important shit so that i could support you. i worked my ass off just so i could come and visit you in michigan. i could’ve done what you’ve done to me a few times, but i didn’t. do you know why i didn’t, alex? because i loved you.”

that’s when the color drains from his face, “baby, just stay. let me explain.”

you push past him again, “there’s no reason for me to stay, alex. it took me too many years to see the truth, but i finally have. i refuse to be used by you.”

you’re in the bedroom when he grabs your elbow and you can’t even comprehend what happened before you’re hand goes across his face. he grabs his cheek and looks at you wide eyed. you shook your head and put your cases on the ground, “i wish that i had never met you.”

when you land in chicago and your time with ivey had come to an end, you handed her back the bunny rabbit. “are you happy now, y/n?”

“yeah, ivey,” you smile and rub the top of her head, “actually, i think i’m the happiest i’ve been in a while.”

#alex turcotte #alex turcotte imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #my work

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pandawritespoorly · 4 years

Text

With Time: Chapter 15 - Bullying

Author’s Note: Saturday, yay! I love updating. You guys were so sweet in the comments last chapter, thank you so much! I really love seeing what you guys have to say.

A slightly shorter chapter today, but that doesn't mean it's safe from a strong language warning! This chapter contains the words 'bitch' (twice), 'shit', 'asshole', 'bullshit', and 'shitty'. Enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Adrien goes to school, and Chloe doesn't hesitate to tell people the cold hard truth.

First | Previous | Next

Adrien really dreads going to school everyday. To think that just over a year ago it was his biggest wish. It’s not that school is never fun, but with Lila there it’s exhausting. Especially without Marinette.

He misses seeing her everyday.

He arrives before Lila as usual, so there’s that. Alya is sitting in her seat behind him, looking downtrodden. That’s odd. He’s fairly certain it’s her birthday today.

“Hey, Alya.” He greets her as usual, half-heartedly.

“Hey.” As usual, she doesn’t notice there’s nothing behind his greeting, but today it seems like she isn’t noticing much of anything.

“Happy birthday?”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

Nino walks in mopey, “Hey.”

Was everyone upset today? Was there some news he missed? Maybe Lila had finally left.

Speak of the devil and she shall appear, Lila walks in, “Hi guys! Happy birthday Alya!”

Well, he could always dream.

Lila manages to get a half-hearted smile out of the journalist, “Hi Lila.”

Lila sits next to Adrien, as is the usual ever since his princess left, “Oh, Alya, is everything alright? You look so sad!”

Alya thinks for a moment then, “Lila, did I do something to upset Ladybug? I think she’s mad at me. What did I do?”

Lila hesitates for a moment, then pulls on a doleful mask, “I don’t know if I should tell you. I’d hate to upset, especially on your birthday…”

Alya and Nino fall for it, hook, line, and sinker. They turn to her and Alya speaks, ”No, no! Tell me! It’s not your fault anyways.”

Crocodile tears come to her eyes, “Oh but it is! I should have done something! I just thought Ladybug knew better…”

Adrien mentally prepares himself for one of those days. It would seem his closest friends - Marinette and Ladybug - were Lila’s favorite targets. Either to hurt or get attention. Ladybug seems to be on Lila’s bad side now.

He hates listening to this nonsense in silence, but there’s little he can do. If he makes any sort of scene at school, Father would pull him out immediately and give him even less freedom than before. He would take it as proof that Adrien had been wrong and the boy would be trapped in his awful room for forever again.

He tries to shut his mind down at school now. Numbness makes it go by faster, and no one has commented on his quietness.

“What? What happened?!”

“It’s… Ladybug and I aren’t friends anymore. She’s been talking with her and now she hates me!” The liar covers her face.

“Who! Who has she been talking to?!”

Oh no. Adrien pretty sure he knows who Lila is pinning this on. Please be wrong. Please don’t be-

“Marinette.”

Alya’s sadness turns to burning fury, “That bitch! She’s not even here anymore and she’s still ruining everything! I can’t believe she was ever my friend. It disgusts me!”

Nino shakes his head, “Yeah, she really took a turn last year. Kinda’ a shame, she used to be so nice…”

“It’s just, she’s been talking to Ladybug, and she’s convinced her that I’m horrible. She must have talked bad about you guys too! Oh, I should have done something!”

“It’s not your fault. Just tell us what happened.” Alya rests a hand comfortingly on Lila’s shoulder.

“Well, a while ago, Ladybug mentioned she made a new friend - I was so happy for her! But then, Ladybug started being more toxic and she started being mean to me. I found out she had been hanging out with Marinette. They’ve both been bullying me for a while now… Ladybug helped Marinette hurt me that day…”

Oh no. Marinette isn’t even here anymore and Lila still pins everything on her. What is even the point?!

“Ugh! I hate that girl! She ruins everything good! I guess it really was fitting to call her our ‘everyday Ladybug’!” Alya stews for a moment, then pulls out her phone, “You know what? Ladybug clearly sucks. Paris needs to know.”

Lila looks surprised. Adrien sees the moment when she realizes that such a statement could put her web of falsehoods on the line, “No, no! Please, I’m not comfortable telling all of Paris about my failure to help Ladybug!”

Alya softens, “Lila you didn’t fail, but I guess I won’t post something if it makes you uncomfortable. If that’s too much then maybe I’ll just delete the Ladyblog instead. It’s supposed to be a place for Ladybug fans, but no one should give a shit about that kind of person and the self-absorbed asshole that goes by ‘Marinette’.”

“Woah, Alya, are you actually deleting your blog?” Adrien did not see this coming. The anger he feels at everything she just said slips into his voice despite his efforts to keep it level.

Alya looks at him sympathetically, “Oh my precious sunshine boy. I know you were a huge a Ladybug fan. It must be such a shock. I know it is to me. I am deleting my blog. Ladybug deserves worse for the kind of stunt she’s pulled. Lila is such a sweetheart, and to think Ladybug left her for Marinette of all people.”

Adrien can feel Plagg shifting angrily in his pocket and it takes every ounce of self-control he has to just turn away and focus on the front of the classroom. He thought school was a nightmare before, he’d forgotten he’s bad luck - it can always get worse.

Marinette’s lucky charm hasn’t done him much good recently.

Maybe she was the good luck charm in his life.

---

It’s lunch period and by some miracle no one’s been akumatized yet. Alya’s phone dings and he sees her look at the notification in shock. She opens her phone and starts texting quickly and furiously, mumbling to herself.

He sighs, at least she found a way to distract herself from hating his favorite people.

“Come on Adrikins, let’s have lunch somewhere that people aren’t ridiculous!” Chloe hooks an arm through his, dragging him away. Sabrina walks beside them as well. They’re out of the school and on the street. They’ve been waiting for a minute or so for Chloe’s driver to arrive.

Adrien’s phone dings, it’s Claude.

Kid Mime: i know you know alya. If you’re near her you need to get her to stop texting mari. now.

Adrien’s heart drops. When Alya starting text a few minutes ago, had she really…? He didn’t stop to wonder how, he just turns and rushes back into the school. Chloe looks up in surprise and she and Sabrina follow in confusion.

He hurries into the cafeteria and sure enough, Alya is still furiously typing away at her phone.

He puts a hand on the table harshly, drawing her attention, “Alya, you need to stop.”

“Stop?! Do even know what I’m doing?! That bitch had the nerve to text me! I’m just giving her a piece of my mind!” “Adrien, are you really on Marinette’s side?” Lila makes her voice sound full of hurt shock.

“Bro…”

Adrien pauses. He wants to tear into them so bad. Marinette deserves better and so does Ladybug. Neither girl deserves all this hate, but he can’t cause a scene. Father would pull him out and he’d be isolated again.

Alone.

Unable to see either of them.

Chloe shoves past him, “Really Césaire? Cyber-bullying? Leave Dupain-Cheng alone and listen to more of Lie-la’s nonsense.”

“Excuse me? I’m not bullying anyone! Marinette is the bully here! Her and Ladybug! I finally understand why she chose you - birds of a feather flock together!”

Chloe glares down at her, “Are you blind or just plain stupid? Dupain-Cheng hasn’t texted you back at all from the looks of it. Are you even reading what you’re sending? That’s bullying Césaire.”

“Oh, you would know.”

“I would.” Chloe’s voice is hard, “But at least I know my faults. You’re just some self-absorbed wanna-be journalist who can’t see what’s right in front of her.” “Leave her alone Chloe.” Nino glares at the blonde.

“Shut it Lahiffe. You had a crush on Dupain-Cheng and knew her as long as I did. You should know better than to believe this faker’s bullshit. I do find it interesting that you finally grew a spine and decided you should speak up to me. Where was that back-bone all those years I went after Marinette?”

Nino just looks at her. Lila speaks up, “Oh Chloe, there’s no need to take your anger out on us. Just because Ladybug hasn’t called on Queen Bee for so long…”

“And she won’t be again. She told me so last night. I get it, it’s her decision and I’m just glad she ever considered me. That’s not what this is about.”

Alya slams her phone down on the table, standing to get in Chloe’s face, “Listen up Chloe, you don’t get to pretend you’re better than us-”

“I don’t have to pretend. It’s just the facts.” She flips her ponytail airily.

“Just because your dad’s the mayor doesn’t mean anything. I worked for what I got.”

“And then you threw it all away for some fake stories. Some journalist.”

“Lila would never lie to us!”

“And Dupain-Cheng would?”

“Yes! She’s a bully!”

“Since when have you been so protective of Marinette, Chloe?” Lila adds in.

“Because she’s a better person than everyone here. Haven’t you noticed how much her absence has messed the class up? Sheesh!”

“She’s one of the worst people alive! Her absence has only made things better!” Alya is shaking in fury.

Chloe wrinkles her nose, “Let me know when you wake-up and look around yourself. Adrikins, Sabrina and I have places to be.” The trio walks out. As soon as they’re out of earshot, Chloe turns to her friend, “Did you get it Sabrina?”

“Yup!” She holds up her own phone triumphantly.

“Get what?” Adrien didn’t see what Sabrina had been up to during the yelling match.

“I took screenshots of what she sent to Marinette. I sent them to myself then I deleted the pictures so Alya wouldn’t know. I also deleted Marinette’s contact from her phone.

Chloe nods approvingly, “Good thinking. Now she can’t text her, because I doubt she put in the effort to remember her number.”

“Why’d you take screenshots?” He doesn’t understand the point of documenting whatever horrible stuff Alya said to Marinette.

“To report her for bullying, duh! Of course nothing will probably happen until Lila’s gone, seeing as even the school’s administration has their heads in the ground!”

Sabrina nods seriously, “That’s true.” Adrien isn’t experienced in how schools are supposed to work, “Is the school really so bad?”

“Adrikins, why do you think I go here? This place’ll let anyone get away with anything. It’s ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” She thinks, “Maybe when I finally go to another school I should have Daddy do something about that.”

Adrien looks at her in surprise, “You’re transferring too?!”

“Not until the end of the year, obviously. Sabrina and I are out of here, this much of a stressful environment is bad for my hair.” At his look she says, “Oh don’t worry, we’ll get you out too. It won’t be too hard to convince your shitty father that a school with a more prestigious reputation would be better for his legacy. Maybe you can join your precious Marinette.”

He flushes slightly at that, then frowns thinking of the texts she must have seen. He really hopes she’s okay.

Chloe’s driver pulls up, and they all pile in. He sends Mari a quick text before turning back to those in the car with him. There’s nothing he can really do now

He trusts her new friends will take care of her, at least until he can be there too.

---

Author’s Note: Don't worry, we're seeing Mari's perspective next week. By 'next week' I actually mean Thursday! I try to post bonus chapters for holidays, and Thanksgiving is already here!

I have the google doc that I write this on shared with one of my friends. We were sitting nearby when she opened it up to read this chapter. She read the title and strong language warnings and turned to me in a panic asking what I did to Marinette this time. I just smiled.

I usually try to prepare chapters to be posted the night before I post them, to make it quicker in the morning. If this one is a little late, it's probably because I slept in. I'm sick and it's finally the weekend, so apologies if that does happen. I doubt I'll sleep past my usual post time, but we'll see. On a similar note, I feel like I've forgotten something I typically put in the notes, but I'm not sure what. If you notice something, please let me know. It could be nothing, I've been feeling like that all day. I blame my cold.

Thanks for reading, and constructive criticism is welcomed in the comments below! Feel free to just tell me your thoughts too!

Actually, I really need to change my tumblr sign off - all I do is delete the link to my tumblr. Constructive criticism, thoughts, comments, or anything really are welcomed in my ask box or through reblogs. I’ll have to come up with a better way to phrase that.

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#miraculous ladybug #Transfer #with time #fanfic #chameleon salt #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #Chloe redemption #lila rossi #alya cesaire #Nino lahiffe #Claude #(really only a quick mention)#bullying #sabrina raincomprix #strong language

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lunanightingaleart · 4 years

Text

So Lucky To Have You

This is going to be an Oc x Canon Fanfiction, if you aren’t comfortable with that do not continue reading. Otherwise I hope you enjoy and maybe Heart and Reblog if you wish <3

Chapter 1

“Ah, good evening Miss Violette. Good to see you back.” Bright indigo eyes scanned for the source of who addressed her, only to find a few familiar faces of Beacon. Lillian turned with a friendly smile to her lips.

“Oobleck, Port! Good to see you two. Still torturing the students around here?”

“Oh come now, you know our classes are completely necessary for the survival and intellectual growth of our students. Not to mention-” Lillian listened to Oobleck go onto one of his tangents again, politely listening even though her brain had already checked out at this point. It’s a good thing Oobleck wasn’t her teacher when they were kids.

“I was kidding Oob, come on you know I wouldn’t judge you for your teaching. You both do pretty good work as far as I’ve seen anyway.” Pulling her hood down, she ruffled her hair a bit and sighed.

“I suppose you’ve finished your mission out in Mantle?”

“Oh yeah, yup. All finished with that and ready to be a teacher again. How’s the new students this year?” Truth be told Lillian didn’t wish to speak about her mission, especially since as far as everyone was told it was just some sort of political based mission, nothing too serious. Except it was, and none of them were allowed to know. She continued to speak with the other teachers about the new students, when one of them brought up a familiar name.

“And then there’s our youngest student to ever join the school. Little Miss Rose.”

“Ah yes, Ruby Rose has shown to have remarkable talent and skill for her age. It’s no wonder Ozpin allowed her to enter Beacon so early.”

“Ruby Rose? You’re talking about Yang’s little sister yes? As in Summer and Tai’s Kid?” Lillian found herself quite shocked to know that she had gotten in. When was the last time she even heard that name? Probably last time she saw Yang and Taiyang, which admittedly was a long time ago. Maybe she should go and visit them on one of her free days. While Oobleck and Port continued to praise their students, Lillian gave them a polite wave before heading off to do her own thing. She would have to tell Oz she was back in town, and she’d probably start class back up by tomorrow knowing him. Opening her scroll while walking through the all too familiar courtyard she noticed she hadn’t gotten any messages.

“Hm, that’s odd. He usually replies by now.” She mumbles to herself while walking past the mess hall. A sudden commotion got her attention as she turned towards one of the large windows. Inside showed two teams of students having a food fight, a very intense one she might add. Uh oh, Glynda would not like this. Just to make sure she didn’t get absolutely coated in the flying food she watched from the safety of outside. She hummed in thought, watching the students and trying to see if she recognized any of them. For starters, she recognized the fiery hair of Yang who had whole turkeys over her fists. Another student was using a beam from the room with a watermelon attached, the entire fiasco was actually really fun to watch. She smiled to herself watching the kids just have an absolute war in there. Seeing a speeding ball of red Lillian focused on it, finding the red ball was in fact a little Ruby Rose. She’s grown up since the last time she saw her.

“What on earth is going on in there??” She turned to see Glynda and right behind her Oz, who seemed to be the calmest about the situation.

“Ah welcome back Lillian. Good to see you.”

“You too Oz, and there’s nothing that bad going on. Just some kids having a food fight.”

“And would you care to tell me as to why you didn’t choose to stop them!?”

“I’m not their teacher, at least not yet. Besides they’re just kids, give them a break.” A very loud bang grabbed our attention, and Glynda ran in. Looking up towards the sky I noticed a flash of yellow and hummed to myself. Eyes beginning to shine much brighter than before, I began to mumble under my breath while focusing on the sky.

“She’s going to fall right back into the hole already made in the roof and safely on some soft materials made up of the tables Glynda have already fixed. She will be completely unharmed, and in fact laugh it off with her friends.” With a soft flash of her eyes, they went back to normal as the scene she just described happened the moment Yang’s falling form got close enough.

“I see that still comes in handy.” Oz mentioned with a smile.

“Oh you have no idea. Though admittedly it’s odd having to use it to make sure a student isn’t harmed from their fall at such heights. Usually I just use it to make someone trip or something.” She grinned and offered her hand to Oz who took it and shook it gently.

“It’s good to have you back. Have you by any chance had any contact with Qrow recently?” Her smile faded.

“No, not since the last message he sent out about Her. I’m sure he’s just busy, we’ll surely hear from him soon.” She reassured, gaining a nod before watching the kids inside get scolded by Glynda. Ozpin went inside first to cool Glynda off, and Lillian went inside after.

“Well, that was quite the show. I noticed you all used different foods based off certain weapons along with using your semblances when only necessary. Impressive.” They all stared at this stranger for a minute of silence, only for Yang to suddenly brighten up.

“Holy cow, Miss Lily is that you?”

“The one and only firecracker~” Yang stood and ran over to her, offering a fist bump to which Lillian reciprocated. Doing a small handshake between the two ending with a childish little explosion, everyone still looked quite confused.

“Yang, do you know her?”

“Oh yeah that’s right. You haven’t really seen her all that much since you were little, huh? Ruby this is Miss Lily. She’s a friend of our dad and uncle Qrow. Plus, she’s actually a teacher at the school.” Ruby’s eyes sparkled as she somewhat zoomed over.

“You know Dad and uncle Qrow?”

“Sure do, have since we were all in school together.” Lillian couldn’t help but smile watching who was once this tiny spawn of Summer turn into a beautiful young lady of Beacon. She looked so much like her mom it was insane.

“It’s so nice to see you again Ruby, I haven’t seen you since you were this tall.” She gestured towards her knees, and Ruby giggled.

“What seriously??? That was forever ago, how come you haven’t come to visit?”

“Well, being a huntress is pretty serious business. We get super busy with missions and helping those who need it, sometimes you have to sacrifice some personal time. Though…” Looking down at Ruby, Lillian smiled and ruffled her hair.

“Maybe now that I’m back, maybe I should take some time to revisit old friends. I don’t know…”

“While that sounds like a fantastic idea, perhaps you should report on your last mission first, Miss Violette?” Glynda reminded Lillian who pouted.

“Yup, that too. And with that, I’m off. It was nice seeing you again Yang, Ruby. I’ll see the rest of you in class tomorrow~!”

“See ya~”

“Bye~!” Following behind Glynda and Oz, Lillian opened up her scroll again with a sigh.

“Still nothing back from him it seems?” Oz asked, slowing down to Lillian’s pace.

“Yeah, but I’m confident that he’s okay. I just have to keep reminding myself of that.”

“Yes, well...we wouldn’t want anything to come out of you panicking now would we?” Lillian rubbed her arm a bit.

“It only works if I can see exactly how it could happen. It’s why I don’t ask for the full details of Qrow’s missions. If I were to be the reason he got hurt..” Oz set his hand on her shoulder.

“Not to worry, it’s as you said. You’re confident he is okay. He’ll get back to us when he can…” Walking back to Oz’s office, Lillian took the time to admire the Academy of Beacon with each passing step. She hasn’t been here since the first week of the first semester. Thinking back, she remembered in the beginning of the school semester Oz and Glynda talking about a special case student brought in two years early. She never imagined they had been talking about Ruby. She really has taken after her mother. Plus the fact Qrow had been a teacher at Signal does make complete sense. Once the doors had closed to Oz’s office Lillian watched as he sat down, sipping his coffee.

“Alright, now you were sent to find a bit of information and maybe have a bit of a…” Oz gestured a bit while holding his coffee.

“Premonition..?” Lillian nodded and pulled out her scroll, setting it on the table and a bright screen shining a hologram.

“Okay, so a few weeks ago we got a message from Qrow stating and I quote ‘Queen has Pawns’ I can in fact confirm this, as I was able to gain a bit of information on the ones currently taking place here.” Glynda looked to Oz and then to Lillian.

“Here? They’re already taking action?”

“Yes, it seems she has taken into consideration our dependence on peace. She’s gotten a few recruits here, one of them as we’ve already figured was Torchwick and his goons. But it seems we have a much more...interesting case.” She changed the screen from the text message to a screenshot of the video taken of the attempted robbery months ago. She pointed to the silhouetted figure that attacked with fire.

“We couldn’t identify the one in this shot, and from what we’ve noticed in our criminal files she doesn’t describe anyone we know at all. However from what I’ve noticed, she doesn’t seem to be a lacky of Torchwick. If anything she seems to be protecting the goods more than him. I believe this young lady is actually one of Salem’s closer pawns sent here to keep her recruits in check. Also, just by body type alone it seems this definitely isn’t an adult. This is a younger lady, probably aged closer to our own students.” Glynda crossed her arms and looked at the information.

“While this is helpful. What exactly are you attempting to imply?”

“That this young lady is probably not their only younger pawn. If they have younger ones here, they can take full advantage of our festival coming up and possibly pretend to be students from other schools. I’m not saying we stop the festival, however I am saying that we need to be at least on guard.”

“And I agree.” Lillian stopped and looked to the door, seeing Ironwood now standing at the door. He looked at Lillian with a gentle smile.

“Lillian, good to see you.”

“James, didn’t hear you come in. Still playing with those toy soldiers I see.”

“Haha, very funny.” Ironwood went to greet Oz and Glynda, and Glynda immediately took the time to leave.

“Well she certainly hasn’t changed.”

“Well she is Glynda. She hasn’t gotten where she is for changing herself. And with that, I’ll see myself out. Good seeing you James.”

“Lillian wait, you can stay if you’d like.” James offered, gesturing towards her scroll still on the table.

“You don’t have to stop on my count. Please continue.” Lillian looked to Ozpin who nodded silently.

“Go on Lillian.” She sighed softly and walked over to Oz. She pointed at her temple for a second, before looking at her scroll.

“I had...a moment while finding information, and I saw a silhouetted pair behind our younger pawn. She seemed to have two others around the same age and all I really saw were silhouettes. One had bright glowing red eyes, another green hair, and the other silver. It seemed two women and a man all of student age, and that’s all I saw. As far as Qrow and his current whereabouts I have no information at all.” Taking her scroll, she looked between the two and nodded.

“I did just get back, so I’m gonna go unpack, rest a little and maybe get prepared for my class tomorrow.”

“Oh that’s right. Yes you brought up a good point. You start teaching again tomorrow, so go and take this time to rest. Thank you.” Lillian left the room and looked to Glynda who leaned against the wall.

“It’ll be quite troublesome if we can’t find those spies. However I feel that your words might have convinced James to bring more firepower.”

“Convince him or not, Oz can tell him not to. I don’t think making a show of our abilities is wise. This is why I teach the students the way I do. A semblance is powerful, but you shouldn’t become dependent on it. Your weapons and your wit should be your first instinct in a fight. A semblance while it should be honed and able to be controlled, it shouldn’t be used unless completely necessary. Its the same thing with James’ army. If he shows everyone his biggest weapons as a show of power, all that does is give the enemy information. I agree we should be careful, but that does not mean we should scare everyone with large ships and constant robo-guards on duty. Now, I have class tomorrow, and I have had a long journey. I’m going to go rest. Have a good night Glynda.”

After the excitement had finally died down Lillian took the chance to plop onto her bed and let out a large sigh. Unbuttoning her hood she slipped it off, her long sleeves following it as her arms now reveal several scars across her skin. She then unbuckled her weapons from her wrists and set them on her bed to examine her new scars and bandaged injuries. The last battle she had been part of was a bit problematic, especially on her own.

“Shit, well could be worse.” She sits on the floor of her room, medical boxes now open and sprawled out around her while she does her best to deal with the wounds now with proper medical materials. While doing so, there a small chime coming from the scroll on her bed. She perks up, glancing over her bed and seeing the familiar profile on her screen. As if her wounds were healed just by the chime, a big smile formed on her face. She dropped the materials and climbed onto her bed, checking the text with full attention.

“Hey Lily~ How’s my Vixen? Sorry about the late reply, I just got a chance to check. I’m okay, a little scraped up, but alright. Have you gotten back?” A big smile continues to shine across her features as she begins to quickly text back.

“Hey! I have, are you in a safe spot? The others are worried about you, we haven’t heard from you since that last message. I’m glad you’re okay, I knew you would be, but it doesn’t stop my worrying.” Her heart was pounding with both joy and worry over him. At least he wasn’t hurt, or you know...not hurt a lot. Another chime rung through and her heart continued to pound.

“Yeah, I’ve found a good place to rest up. As far as I know I wasn’t followed and can talk. Why? Did you miss me that much Vixy? ;) ” Lillian felt her face heat up and slowly typed in his number. Calling him, she rested her head atop her pillow and stared at the ceiling. A few rings chimed through and eventually a click and silence. Then she heard his voice, and her purple eyes sparkled.

“Guess that’s a yes~ Hey Vixy~” Lillian let out a happy shaky sigh and gripped her scroll tightly.

“Hey~ It’s so good to hear your voice. I felt like I haven’t heard it in forever.”

“Yeah, honestly it’s a little weird hearing your voice too. I can’t believe it’s been this long. But hey, how was your mission? We were stopped pretty abruptly that last call.” Lillian absentmindedly looked to her now bandaged arms.

“I’m okay, got a bit scraped up myself, but it could’ve been worse. You didn’t tell me Ruby was in Beacon now. The teachers are praising her for her skills. Looks like you taught her well.” The two continued to chat for at least an hour, relaxing from both of their exciting days and joking around about old and new circumstances. It seems just talking with each other has lightened an unspoken heavy atmosphere around the two. The sun has dropped, and the two continued to speak until a single yawn from Lillian stopped the conversation.

“Getting tired?”

“Yeah, how about you?”

“Ah, I’m alright. You should sleep though, don’t worry. This dusty old crow knows how to take care of himself.”

“Yeah? Well this sleepy Fox knows how stubborn the dusty crow is. You should rest and at least let your aura heal up. Come on like old times, let’s go to bed together.” She heard a chuckle from Qrow over the scroll.

“Really now? You know next time I see you I’m going to hold you up to that~” Lillian giggled and hugged her pillow close.

“...Hey Qrow? When do you think you’ll be getting home?” There was a silence, before a sigh.

“I’m not sure, not too long I guess. Why? Wish I was there to share a bed with you~?”

“Come on Qrow be serious, also yes. I really miss you.” Her voice was soft, and she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable.

“Okay okay, I’m sure I’ll be home soon. And I promise when I get home you can keep me there for at least a day.”

“Two Days~”

“You drive a hard bargain, but you’re cute so I’ll say sure.”

“Deal~” Lillian smiled and yawned again.

“You better rest tonight Qrow, no take backsies.”

“What are you, twelve?”

“Fight me~ Goodnight.” She hears a chuckle once again.

“Goodnight Lily~” Once the call ended, Lillian turned on her side and let out a soft sigh. Relief overcame her as she finally got to hear from Qrow. Now knowing for a fact he was alright, she let sleep take over and she finally found a good comfortable rest throughout the night.

Continue To Chapter 2

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #qrow x oc #uncle qrow #rwby qrow #qrow branwen #oc x canon #Lillian Violette #rwby oc #So Lucky To Have You #Chapter 1

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golbrocklovely · 5 years

Text

only the lonely survive // colby brock - chapter fifteen: and about forgiveness, we’re both supposed to have exchanged

A/N: hey guys :) here’s the next chapter. some crazy stuff happens in this, so let me know what you think. i’ll be coming out with another request at some point soon, so be on the lookout for that.

description of the story

taglist: @ajosieface , @localsleeper , @julyrubyrose , @far-to-many-bands , @absolute-randomness-forever

trigger warning: cursing

word count: 2200

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After talking to Casey for over an hour about Colby and Brennen, I finally went to my room. Removing my dress from the other night and changing into pjs, I scrolled through my phone again out of boredom. I was gaining a lot of followers and subscribers, my dms were filled to the max, and people were tagging me in everything.

This is all a bit overwhelming.

I clicked on my username on insta and went down to my secret account: my Sam and Colby fan account. No one knew of golbrockloves, mostly because I never talked about it. I especially haven't brought it up to Colby.

How do you tell the guy you made out with that you have an instagram dedicated to him and his best friend without looking creepy? Exactly.

I slid down my feed, only to be met with pictures and videos of me. One video was a screen recording of my snapchat from yesterday, me and Colby in the store.

Why does that feel like such a long time ago?

The next couple pictures were from people's stories: screenshots of me and Colby dancing together, me and Colby next to each other in the kitchen, me and Brennen.

I bit my lip anxiously as I clicked on the comments. They weren't exactly bad, but they weren't great.

snc3lifee who the fck is she?????

samnccolbby her @ is skyebennett

lovely_sncc is she dating colby or brennen?

saramcc OMG COLBY AND HER ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER

solby5vr she better stay away from colby!! HES MINE!!!!

dolansnc why can't colby stand next to a girl without everyone shipping her with him? jesus christ this fandom

It was strange to see fans talk about me, as if they didn't know I would see what they were saying. Maybe having this fan account was a good thing: I could see how they all honestly thought about me without anyone knowing.

After reading more and more comments, I could tell most believed me and Colby were together. Or maybe me and Brennen. No one was certain. All they knew was that I was close to both. A lot of fans kept saying that I wasn't dating either one of them and that I was just friends.

While still lurking around on insta, I got a bunch of notifications from my personal account. I switched over to it to see I was tagged in multiple snippets of videos. Clicking on the it, I saw the face of Travis Marcus. He had uploaded a new video to his channel, titled "my truth".

Oh God...

I went to youtube and saw his video was slowly starting to trend. I clicked play and sat down on my bed.

Travis sighed, glancing up at the camera. "Hey guys, it's your boy Travis. Um, I have a lot to get off my chest right now. I'm sorry my energy isn't as high as it usually is. But, I needed to set the record straight. There is a lot of shitty things going around about me lately and I wanted to clear the air and tell you the truth."

"Skye, did you see-" Casey stated, dashing into my room. She stopped when she saw my phone in my hand. We both stood there watching Travis.

"So, as you guys know, I was recently accused of doing something terrible... of bullying another youtuber. I won't say her name because she doesn't deserve any more hate... or clout." His lips twitched, trying to cover up a smirk.

"As if he didn't tag you in the fucking video. Fucking asshat." Casey mumbled.

"One of her friends, Brennen Taylor, an old viner, tweeted that I made fun of her at a party recently. I just wanted to say that this is completely false. What actually happened was that I introduced myself to her. She claimed she was a huge fan and that she wanted to… get with me." Travis nodded his head uncomfortably.

What the fuck.

He continued. “I declined because she was extremely intoxicated. She then proceeded to get upset with me, made a huge scene, got kicked out of the party, and then I can only assume went to Brennen. He was also really drunk, which is why he tweeted in the first place.”

Casey gasped. “Are you kidding me? I'm gonna kill h-”

I hushed her, my eyes never leaving the screen.

“I have footage from that night, because I vlogged it. However, the audio got fucked up so I'm sorry for how muffled it is.” He admitted.

The screen changed to the night of the party. I saw myself standing in front of Travis, talking to him. The audio was complete garbage, low and muffled. I glanced over at the camera, only a moment later Travis nodded at it, smirking. Something I didn't see at the time. My face contorts for a second, he shrugs, and I shake my head, leaving immediately afterwards.

“Now, does that look like I was making fun of her? No. I would never do that. She was upset because I respectfully told her I didn't want to get with her after all her advances. She literally tried later that night to dance up on me, but I just wasn't into her. After I filmed this, she got kicked out for trying to hook up with another youtuber. I think she's desperate for views and just wants more followers.” He declared.

“So, don't give her that attention. And, don't send her hate guys. I wish her and Brennen the best honestly. Sorry this video is so short, I needed to get this off my chest. I hope you all can understand. Peace.” He threw up a peace sign, and then pushed his hand into the lens of the camera, the video fading to black.

Stunned silence fell over the room. Neither one of us could speak.

“Is this real life? I kinda feel like I've had this nightmare before.” I whispered.

“He can't be serious. Does he really think he can get away with this?” Casey shook with rage.

“Why wouldn't he be able to? He has almost a million followers. I just passed 2,000, if I haven't already lost all of them.” My voice faltered.

“I'm gonna call Brennen and see if he can help.” Casey left quickly, pulling out her phone.

I laid my back against my bed, closing my eyes. I took a couple deep breaths, trying to slow down my heart-rate.

That's it.

I sat up quickly. I went over to my desk and pulled out my camera. Setting it up on my tripod, I got comfortable in my chair.

I sighed deeply, then turned my camera on

"Hi everyone. I didn't think this amount of drama would happen to me so soon in my youtube career, yet here we are." I joked.

"I'm sorry if this video is a little all over the place. I'm not editing it. I'm just gonna post it as is.” I clapped my hands together, trying to stop their shaking.

I cleared my throat. “If you don't know, I'm the girl Travis Marcus made fun of. Or he claims he didn't make fun of. I need you all to know that he is lying. I'm not sure why when he could easily just admit he fucked up and apologize. Instead, he did this.”

“I want to tell you guys what actually happened that night…” I stated, looking directly at the camera.

I began to explain that party in detail: how Travis came up to me, how he flirted with me, only for him to make fun of my appearance and film it. I then went on to explain how I left the party because of him ruining my night, only to be told a couple hours later that he got kicked out of the party because he started a fight with Sam, Colby, and Brennen by throwing his drink on Kat.

"I have four witnesses, plus my best friend. And Big Nik's security team could easily corroborate my story. On top of all that, I have this."

I grabbed my phone, pulled open my dms on twitter, and found Travis' message to me. I showed the message to the camera, letting it focus on his words.

Travis: please tell Brennen to take down the tweets. Things are getting out of hand. I apologize for what I said.

"Why would you apologize for something that you didn't do? All of this could have been avoided if you wouldn't have made fun of me. I get you're 'famous' and have the ego the size of a tractor-trailer, but that doesn't mean you get to make fun of random people because they don't fit into what you think is attractive. Be nicer. Be kind. And stop lying to make yourself look good."

I reached over and turned off my camera. I paused, my breath hitching in my throat for a moment.

Holy fuck, did I just film that?

/ / / /

I felt cozy surface beneath me tremble slightly. Three times in a row. I opened my eyes, glancing around my dark room.

Was all of that a dream?

I slid my hand over my bed, finding the item that was vibrating. I turned it over, my eyes closing instantly from the bright light. Squinting, I saw messages from all different people. But the most recent made me smile softly.

Colby: are you up to talk?

I shuffled my body upwards, leaning over and turning my light on. I gazed over at my sleeping laptop, my camera still plugged in. The memories flooded back to me. I uploaded a response to Travis, and instantly fell asleep from anxiety induced exhaustion. I didn't even want to see if anyone supported me or not.

Unlocking my phone, I went to Colby's message immediately.

Skye: just woke up. i'm down to talk.

Moments later, my phone started ringing. I answered it. "Hey Colby."

"Hey. How are you doing?" He asked sweetly.

I chuckled. “I've been better, that's for sure.”

“How long have you been asleep? Everyone's been trying to contact you.” He stated.

I shrugged. “Right after I uploaded the video, I fell asleep. I was just too stressed.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” He apologized.

I held back a smile. “It's okay. I'm alright.”

“So, I guess you don't know what happened.” Colby replied.

“No, what did?” I questioned.

“Travis deleted his video.” He deadpanned.

I sat up quickly. “Wait what?”

“Well, after you posted yours, Brennen and I talked to Big Nik and we found out from him that his friend John was recording a snapchat during the fight that occurred with all of us in it. It shows Travis getting pulled out of the party yelling essentially what he said to you at everyone.” He informed me, continuing. “He cussed and screamed while he got kicked out, and John sent the video to Messy Monday, and they uploaded it to twitter. It's been trending for the past couple hours.”

“Holy shit. So, the snapchat proved me right?” I muttered.

“Yep. Travis took down his video. He's been radio silent since.” He laughed.

“He probably left a few choice words for me.” I said, rolling my eyes.

“If he did, let me know. I got some unfinished business with him.” Colby joked, causing me to let out a laugh. “Besides, before he deleted his video, Sam, me, Kat, and Brennen all came out on twitter and said that you were right. On top of that, apparently a thread was created of how rude Travis has been to fans. So... he's kinda done for.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of that. He'll be back in less than a month.” I scoffed, pulling my blanket closer to me.

“Well, even if he does come back, everyone will know you were right.” He reassured.

I picked at my blanket. “Tell that to his fans.”

“Enough about Travis. Is there anything I can do to get your mind off of him?” He requested.

I sighed. “Like what?”

“Go out with me.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“What?” I choked.

“Go out with me. Where ever you want to go, I'll take you there.” Colby promised.

“When are you taking me out?”

“How about tomorrow? Say eight P.M?”

A smile rose to my lips. “Okay... that sounds good.”

“Where do you want to go?” He inquired.

“If you don't mind it... I kinda want to stay in for a bit. Hide away from the world. Maybe you could come here? We could order take out and watch some movies. And cuddle?” I bit my lip nervously.

He agreed happily. “That sounds fantastic.”

“Good. I can't wait.” I beamed.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?” He mumbled, yawning.

I shook my head. “No. Besides, you sound like you need to go to sleep.”

“I'll stay up if you want me to.” He admitted.

“No. No, I'm okay really. You should get some sleep.” I declared.

“Alright. I'll see you tomorrow.” He responded.

“It's a date.” I smiled.

“Goodnight, Skye.” He whispered.

I giggled quietly. “Goodnight, Colby.”

<< CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 16 >>

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock story #colby brock fluff #colby brock x oc #only the lonely survive #colby brock fic

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prorevenge · 6 years

Text

Predator vs Predator

Background: My son is almost 13 and plays AAA football at a provincial level. His 'bestie' we will call 'Joey' also plays on his team and he is my second child spending each weekend here and after school till dinner. Amazing kid and I love him like my own.

The Story: I was sitting outside on benches watching my son's football practice tonight when Joey's mom asked to speak to me privately. Uh oh...

She then proceeds to tell me that the police will be calling me to speak to me and my son about events that happened at MY house over the weekend. The events surrounded Joey's teacher and it was disgusting, disgraceful and empowering at the exact same time.

Apparently and on Saturday night at around 10pm, emails were sent from my home that would forever ruin the lives of a teacher that were sent to her husband as well as to the local police detachment where I live. Explicit pictures were attached to these emails and think I am still in shock, honestly.

Joey who is 11 years of age was getting 'hand-jobs' by his teacher during lunch and after school. She was in her early 30's, had 2 kids and a husband. He had told my son about his adventures with his teacher but my son always thought that he was joking.

I understand that around 9pm on Saturday night, Joey showed my son the pictures that his teacher had sent him and they were 'explicit' in nature and it was then that my son knew he was telling the truth. He saw the text messages and IG conversations and he took screenshots of them all. There were over TWO HUNDRED texts from this teacher to this young boy. I then saw a search history of her name and I saw it linking to her husband who was a realtor. (Yes, I record my son's history...Call me paranoid.)

"Hey, let's call her up and ask her for another hand job?", my son said.

The boys called her number at 9:35 according to the police and I am told that the boys asked if they could get another one and she retorted, "I will come to your school on Monday, Joey and one of us is going down"

Looking in my son's email logs, I saw an email sent at 9:42 to the teacher's husband outlining what he did with pictures attached and the email said it would be forwarded to the local police.

A call was made to the police at 9:51pm on Saturday night and I am told that there is a recording of my son's conversation to them and it started with 'Hi, my name is X and I want to talk to someone about a teacher abusing a kid in grade 5 and I have proof'

I received a call 30 minutes ago from a detective and after our conversation, I poured a glass of red and I decided to vent and thus, here I am.

My son has already had 2 conversations with the police and I smile when I look at him and I see that he recorded EVERYTHING and looked out for his friend. He said he even used a throw away email account to send the husband the proof. hahaha

The teacher was suspended immediately pending charges and I looked at him out on the field in awe. I had just learned this all and I knew NOTHING about it.

I looked out at my son on the field running yards and hoping to make it big and yet, he never said a word to me about this. I was PISSED.

After the practice and when we got into the truck, I looked at him and I said, "Maybe, we should talk about Joey and his teacher and the freaking cops?" I WAS NOT PLEASED not knowing.

"We called her. I wanted to ask her for another hand job and when she said one of us was going down, one of us was. You would have done the same thing"

Update from today:

I had to take my son into speak to a special detective in Toronto today in the sexual crimes unit. They called me at 7am and had to see him today for a video interview. I spent last night going through the keylog files on my son's system as this is a MUST HAVE in my home and it's hidden from my son. When we went for his interview today, I also took a flash drive of all my key log files from the last 3 weekends that Joey stayed over as well. On that flashdrive were some of the most disturbing and disgusting images that I can honestly say that I have ever seen. In my home, keyloggers are what I use to try and keep my son safe online and I record everything. The interview went well and I received a call from them this afternoon stating that distribution of child pornography and solicitation for child pornography would also be added to the list of charges for this vile creature. Will update if more happens. Joey is coming over this weekend and I'll see if anything else pops up as I have an interview myself on Tuesday next week about the evidence I found with the keyloggers.

TL:DR Young teen gets a handjob from a teacher at 12 and tells my son who decides to hand her back what she deserves.

(source) (story by bhurley10)

#prorevenge #by bhurley10 #pro #revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #revenge story #last10

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itspixelberrychoicestime · 5 years

Text

A Date with a Ghost part 6

Book(s): The Freshmore Series & Haunting of Braidwood Manor

Summary: After My Classmate’s (Ghostly) Girlfriend, Hannah (HOBM MC) and Eleanor decided to have a double date with Kaitlyn and Emily (TF MC). And things get weird.| It’s time to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Pairing(s): Kaitlyn x TF MC, Eleanor x HOBM MC

Tags: @kennaxval @almogchoices @jbzxls @mfackenthal @helentwombly

Note: PLEASE COMMENT/ REBLOG/ DM ME IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN FUTURE STORIES!!

Warning: THIS CHAPTER WILL GO INTO THE THEMES OF FAMILICIDE, ALCOHOLISM AND THE MENTIONS OF SUICIDE.

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 (You are here!), 7

Eleanor sighed as she sent out the text of when to meet up with the girls. “I told them tomorrow afternoon.”

“I know asking this is going to annoy you, but are you sure about this?” Hannah asked her.

“Don’t be. I can reassure you that I am.” Eleanor got up to face the window. She hugged herself with her phone still in her hand.

Hannah got up to hug her girlfriend from behind. She kissed Eleanor’s cheek, and in comfort she said, “Don’t worry.”

Eleanor’s phone dinged! She took a look at the text and let out a shaky breath once she got the “Okay!” from Kaitlyn. She softly cursed under her breath.

“What happened...?” Hannah took a glance at the text. “Oh!” She exclaimed.

“I guess there’s no turning back.” Eleanor frowned.

“Nope,” Hannah muttered. “Do you want to go out? It’ll get your mind off of this.”

“I’ll be fine.” Eleanor said. “I’m too tired.”

“There’s still light out, but whatever is fine.” Hannah grabbed Eleanor’s hand and led her to the bed. Once in bed, Hannah had thoughts running through her head, worrying about the next day.

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

The next day Kaitlyn and Emily stepped out of the subway train in Downtown Northbridge’s stop.

“So how long til we get there?” Emily asked.

Kaitlyn pulled out her phone and searched for directions. She read the estimated time, “It’s going to take us 30 minutes if we take the fastest route. We just have to take the number 5 bus and Braidwood Manor is a couple blocks away.”

“We should catch the bus asap then.”

“Right.” The girls rushed to catch the bus.

Nearly an hour later, the girls finally arrived to the front of Braidwood Manor. Kaitlyn and Emily sat on the steps and waited for Hannah and Eleanor to come.

Emily pulled out her phone from her jacket pocket, and went on group chat.

Emily: We’re here, but the other girls are nowhere to be found.

Zack: WHAT 😨

Becca: Are you out of your freaking minds???

Kaitlyn: Chill, we’re just going to hang out, Eleanor texted me this:

*Pulls up a screenshot of the text conversation between her and Eleanor*

Becca: WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE GOING TO GET KILLED OVER THERE

Chris: You could’ve have us come with you! @ Becca, wth?

Zack: BECCA NOT HELPING

Emily: We’ll be fine. Hannah and Eleanor wanted to talk to us about something, don’t know what.

Zack: Can you two at least promise you’ll come back in one piece?

Emily: Promise!

Kaitlyn: 🤞🏼

Emily sighed at her friend’s responses and tucked her phone away back to her pocket. “Well, this is going to take forever.” Emily rested her face on her hand. Kaitlyn played with the dead leaves with her boots. She hummed her new song’s tune.

“So how’s the song going?” Emily asked.

Kaitlyn sighed, “Not that great. It’s still missing that dumb chorus.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Let’s hope it’s soon. Any new update about the house?”

Emily looked up to see the trees. “Eh. It’s still a long way coming. Stupid Delacroix...”

“I could punch him, y’know.”

“Sebastian or his dad?”

Kaitlyn smirked, “Both?”

Emily playfully rolled her eyes and laughed. “I don’t want you to go to jail for assault.”

“You and your morals.” Kaitlyn kissed her cheek. Emily giggled.

The girlfriends sat at the porch until they spotted Hannah and Eleanor. Emily and Kaitlyn noticed how disheveled Eleanor appeared to be. Her short hair was barely brushed and her face pale with dark circles forming around her eyes. Hannah wasn’t any better as she looked tired as before.

“Sorry we ran so late-- we overslept!” Hannah explained.

“Nah, it’s nothing.” Kaitlyn said. “Are we even allowed to go inside?”

“Yeah, let’s hope the doors are unlocked.” Hannah walked to the door and pulled the doors open. “After you.” She signaled the girls.

The house was restored to what it use to be. No broken chandelier on the floor, no tattered wallpaper and no dusty furniture.

“Guess they changed it once they did the documentary.” Emily whispered to Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn nodded.

Eleanor touched a wall. She frowned, “You’re right Emily. It looks like home, but it doesn’t feel like it.”

“Huh?” Kaitlyn cocked her eyebrow.

Eleanor turned to the girls. “There’s something I need to tell you.” She guided them to the upstairs hallway where the individual portraits of the Waverly family were located at. Kaitlyn raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What’s up?”

Eleanor took a shaky breath in and out and asked. “Do you see that portrait of her?” She signaled a portrait of a young woman, somewhere in her early twenties with a braid passing to her breast. She was wearing a a red and black gown with laces stitched and a black collar covering up her neck.

Emily responded. “Yeah...?”

“Her name was Eleanor Waverly. She had just turned twenty when she had her portrait taken.”

Kaitlyn looked at Hannah, who grabbed her girlfriend’s hand and whispered in her ear. “I got you.”

Eleanor confessed, “I am that girl. I am Eleanor Waverly.”

Emily and Kaitlyn looked at each other and back to the other girls. Frowning, Hannah spoke up, “You don’t believe it, do you?”

Kaitlyn looked back and forth of her and the portrait many times. All she could say was, “Uhmm...” Emily stepped in. “What she meant to say is, is that we just thought it was a coincidence that you look like her.”

“Allow me to explain.” Eleanor stated, “But we need to find a place to talk in private. Hope to God there’s nobody here besides us.” She took them downstairs to the parlor where she signaled Kaitlyn and Emily to sit down. “It’s better to hear about this sitting down.”

Eleanor took over the conversation. “Well, here it goes... My family and I moved here when I was fifteen from England once my father found employment. This was about a few year before he was sent to the war. As you may know, my mother was... not well. I don’t know what happened, but she forbade my siblings and I from ever going outside. She sent people to do errands. She was small, but somehow had us under her power. Often times she even gives us a smacking if we��re caught outside.”

Emily’s eyes opened in shock. Kaitlyn covered her mouth in shock and disgust.

“One day something happened. My siblings were sick and I knew I had to leave to find medicine, but my mother was persistent in me drinking some hot cocoa. I don’t know why she was pushing me, but... I heard my brother Thomas falling in the hall. He got up from his bed to tell me that my sister Clarissa had passed.”

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” Emily said.

Eleanor continued. “It was a long time ago. Literally. My mother told me it was the only way to protect us. I knew something about that damned drink. It was too obvious for me to figure it out. I tried to get away from her. I could still hear Simon crying for mother and Thomas having little time to live.”

She lifted her shaken hand to her hand and took a sharp breath. Exhaling she finished, “Mother grabbed my hair from behind. She had a broken piece of vase that Thomas broke earlier... I plead to her to not hurt me, but...” Eleanor choked up into a sob. She clenched the necklace she had once she came back to life. A painful reminder about what had happened. She then placed her hand onto her neck, indicating the result.

Emily wiped her tears away while Kaitlyn sat down on the couch. She covered her face and muttered “Damn” under her shaky breath.

Hannah and Eleanor sat on the couch where Hannah hugged her girlfriend and stroke her hair in comfort. Eleanor was still holding on to her necklace.

The four girls sat in the parlor in silence. Minutes that seem like hours rolled by with silence, except the wind hitting the leaves outside. Eleanor spoke up. “I want to show you two something.”

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

The family cemetery was located outside of the manor. The girls looked at Eleanor and her sibling’s tombstones.

“You mentioned your dad earlier, what happened to him?” Emily asked.

Eleanor sighed. “My father found out about what happened to us.” She frowned, “It broke him to the point where he developed a drinking problem. He died within the next five years.”

“Oh shit.” Kaitlyn muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

Eleanor said nothing and knelt to her late father’s tombstone. She placed a hand on it, running her fingers through her dad’s name.

William C. Waverly.

She got up and noticed that the sun will be setting. “We should go. It’s getting late.”

Emily meekly asked, “Hey Eleanor?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to sound rude, but why did you bring us here?”

Eleanor’s lips trembled, “I started getting these horrible nightmares. About what my mother did to us. Something tells me that I need to do something about this.”

“When I died, I remembered everything that my mother did to us. My siblings fortunately, to say the least, didn’t remember a single thing about that day.

Hannah confessed. “My brother Jonathan actually...” She exhaled with dread, “He, um took his own life.”

Emily gasped with her hand covering her mouth.

Hannah hold herself together. “I found his note and the only thing I did was hiding it away from our parents. I didn’t want them to find out like this, so they thought he was in an accident.”

She tensed up and took a deep breath. “Oh god.” She muttered. “And I, uh, I started to get those nightmares too. He kept telling me how much I was a liar for doing this. I couldn’t tell anyone about this because, becau-” Hannah sobbed.

Hannah slumped on the ground and covered her eyes. Eleanor crouched near her girlfriend and put a comforting arm around her.

“Hey, hey, hey...” Emily helped Eleanor picking up Hannah. “It’s okay to feel hurt, but it doesn’t mean you have to go through it alone.”

Kaitlyn nodded, tears streaming down. She wiped them with her jacket sleeve, not caring if her makeup had already dirty it.

“Hannah decided to come here to fix whatever was happening. Her friend Victor dropped her off to spend the night here.” Eleanor replied. She rubbed her girlfriend’s back, “Just take a few deep breaths.” She said to her softly.

Hannah composed herself. “I can’t explain it, but I had a gut feeling that this house could fix my problem. Ironic now that it’s El’s turn.”

“So, that’s how you two actually met?” Kaitlyn asked.

Eleanor nodded. “She spent such a short time, but with her... I wasn’t so afraid. of my hellish mother. That’s what I love about her.”

Hannah chuckled. “Yeah, just witnessing her world wasn’t exactly in the agenda, but it was worth it. I still miss those kids.”

“Who? Your brothers and sister?” Asked Emily.

“Yes, it took Thomas some time to ease on Hannah, but we welcomed her as if she’s family.” Eleanor answered.

Hannah gave a small smile. “I could imagine this now, ‘Hey kids, you wanna hear the story of how I met your mom?’“

Eleanor rolled her eyes, but laughed. “I guess you can say that your mother made me feel so... alive.”

The girls laughed at this future scenario. They then left the Manor once it was nighttime. Each pair left hand in hand.

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

Once they reached the train stop to Hartfeld, the two pairs stepped out to the platform.

“You must never tell anyone about this.” Eleanor warned them. “I don’t think the world is ready to hear that the dead are alive.”

Emily crossed her heart. “Swear, cross my heart and hope to die!”

Eleanor’s eyes went wide. “Emily, you mustn’t say that-!”

“El, she swore it.” Hannah placed her hand on Eleanor’s shoulder. Eleanor blushed hard of embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, we gotcha back,” Kaitlyn smiled. “See you girls later!” She put her arm around Emily.

“Bye! Take care!” Emily waved goodbye.

“Bye!” Hannah said.

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

“It’s crazy to know that ghosts exist?” Kaitlyn flopped onto Emily’s bed. Emily finished changing to new pair pajamas.

“Yeah, I guess you could say I was kinda skeptical about the paranormal.” Emily sat down beside her.

“Just imagine; there might be witches and werewolfs!” Kaitlyn’s face lit up. “Or vampires!”

“I think we have to take one creature at a time,” Emily laughed, but yawned as she had to go to bed soon. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat.”

Kaitlyn got up from Emily’s bed. “You sure you don’t want me here?” She cocked her eyebrow and bit her lip.

Emily replied, “As much as I want to, I can’t. Gotta meet up with James and Reyna first thing in the morning.”

“You’re lucky I like that cute butt of yours.” Kaitlyn stuck her tongue out and winked. Kaitlyn began to close the door behind her. “Alright, g’night.”

“Night.” Emily gave a soft smile just before sleeping.

Kaitlyn held her head high to complete the new song. Once she got into her room, she grabbed her guitar and notes to finish this once and for all.

About an hour and a half later and

“See you in my dreams,

Feel you in the dark-”

As she hummed the tune, she sang “Take me anywhere, figuring who you are, the ghost of you has now become a part of me- OH MY GOD!” She screamed. Kaitlyn jumped from the bed, and ran out to Emily’s room.

“Em! Emily! I got it! I fucking got it!” Kaitlyn yelled.

Emily opened her door. Her eyes were slightly opened and her hair was messy from turning too often. “Yeah...?”

“I got the chorus! I got it!” She embraced Emily.

“That’s awesome,” Emily yawned. “I’m really tired...”

Kaitlyn blushed. “Oops- I didn’t noticed that I woke up everyone, did I?”

Becca came out of her room. With a hand on her hip and narrowed eyes, Becca said, “No, you really didn’t.”

#playchoices #The Freshman #the haunting of braidwood manor #mc x eleanor #kaitlyn x mc #Eleanor Waverly #Kaitlyn Liao #what is this? a crossover episode?#tw: death #tw: suicide mention #tw: murder #tw: alcholism

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ukulelecal · 6 years

Text

Biggest Fan

In which you’re a famous singer and Calum is a fan of your music.

Warnings: There’s like one swear but other than that its just fluff

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader

Requested By: Anonymous

“hi can you do a blurb on calum where you’re also famous and u find out he’s interested in you and low key loves your music? shebjdjsj idk jus make it fluffy and ill love u forever“

A/N: i really loved writing this auehfuesnf tempted to do a part 2 tbh, lmk what you think?

Requests are OPEN!

*Gif not mine*

Series Masterlist

“Thank you, New York! Good night!” You cheered into the microphone, taking one last bow and giving a wave to the crowd before exiting the stage.

You immediately went to your dressing room and packed up your guitar, then grabbing a water bottle from the mini fridge in the corner. Performing shows was one of your favorite things to do, and you would never grow tired of it. Seeing all the fans who came to see you, and hear them sing along to your songs never got old.

You sat down on the couch and took a sip from the water bottle. There was enough time for you to relax and come down from your adrenaline high before having to get on your tour bus and move on to the next place.

Setting the water bottle next to you, you wiped the sweat that beaded on your forehead and grabbed your phone from where you had tossed it on the couch before going on stage. You opened Twitter, starting a new tweet.

“Had so much fun tonight. New York, I love you x”

You posted the tweet, then started scrolling through your feed. There was nothing out of the ordinary; just tweets from friends, family, fans. You liked a few tweets here and there, but mostly just scrolled through without giving much thought to any of them. Just one particular tweet caught your eye. It was a recommended tweet, from a user you didn’t follow.

“Absolutely love this song. Great job @/your/twitter/user/”

Attached was a screenshot of Spotify playing a song from your newest album that was released not too long ago.

You grinned to yourself, seeing it was one of your more “underrated” songs that people seemed to not pay much attention to, at least compared to your more popular singles. Glancing at the person who tweeted it, you immediately recognized the name. Calum Hood; he was a bassist in a band. You knew quite a few of their songs, one of your favorites being their latest release, Youngblood. It was undeniably a beautifully written song. You couldn’t exactly call yourself a major 5 Seconds of Summer fan, but you did enjoy listening to them.

You liked the tweet, then responded with a simple “Thank you! ;)”

You clicked on his name and followed him, noticing he was already following you. He seemed like a nice guy; unfortunately, you had never gotten the chance to meet him. Maybe one day.

Then, a thought popped into your head. You recalled seeing 5 Seconds of Summer on the setlist for the B96 Summer Bash in Chicago, which you were also set to be performing at. It would be a perfect opportunity to meet him and see him live with his band. You smiled to yourself, standing up and grabbing all your things that you took into the dressing room. You walked out to the back door of the venue, where a security guard waited to walk you to your tour bus. You beamed and waved to the huddle of fans that were crowded behind a barrier, but scurried right to the bus.

After you changed into some sweats and a t-shirt, you crawled into your bunk and continued to scroll through your phone. A few tweets from fans popped up, theorizing about something going on between you and Calum, just because he had tweeted you one time. You laughed softly to yourself, simply scrolling by. They could think whatever they wanted; truth was, you had never even met him in person.

…

The day of the Summer Bash came around, and frankly, the idea of finding Calum to meet him had pretty much slipped your mind completely. You still had a tour going on, and you needed to focus more on that and promoting your new album.

You stepped out of the van that drove you from your hotel to the venue, taking a deep breath as the warm air hit you. Thankfully, Chicago was mostly warm this time of year. A part of you wanted to stay outside and just enjoy the nice weather for a while, but you needed to get inside to get ready and rehearse a bit.

After going through the mess of checking in with the crew and being told a very specific schedule to follow, you were finally shown to your dressing room to get ready and practice. Your stylists followed you inside, ready to doll you up for your performance.

Once you were dressed, warmed up your voice and tuned your guitar, you still had a while before showtime. There was no point in sitting around in your dressing room the whole time when there must have been something to do around.

You grabbed your phone and walked out, starting to aimlessly wander around the backstage area. You ran into a few people that you had met before, exchanging hugs and good luck wishes for the show.

Eventually, you got so invested into replying to a text from your best friend that you totally stopped paying attention to where you were going. It wasn’t until you walked directly into something, or someone, that you were brought back to the real world.

You began uttering out a rushed apology and looked up to see what poor soul you ran into, and you immediately recognized the face. It was the guy who tweeted you when you were in New York; Calum was his name.

He clearly recognized you, too, because his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“I am so sorry, I wasn’t paying atten-”

“It’s okay, really,” he interrupted your rambling, running his hand through his hair. He tried to act casual, but in reality, his heart was beating a mile a minute. He had been a fan of your music since you first started, and he always wished to meet you. That was finally happening, and the fact that you were ten times more beautiful in person was not helping. Not that he didn’t always think you were beautiful; it was just a whole different experience.

“You’re Calum, yeah?” You asked, looking up at him with a grin. He nodded in response, smiling.

“That’s me. And you’re Y/N...I really love your music,” he admitted, eyes falling to the floor in a sheepish manner. He usually never had a problem talking to people, but for some reason, you were making him flustered like never before.

You blushed, fiddling with your phone in your hands.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I’m a fan of you guys, too. I’ve had Youngblood on repeat for a while.”

He chuckled, bringing his brown eyes back up to meet yours. You could get lost in his eyes. The beautiful chocolate brown was enough to make you melt.

“I’m glad you like it.”

You bit your lip and looked around the hallway, not sure of what else to say. This was one of your least favorite things; awkward silences. Especially with Calum Hood, of all people.

“So, this is going to sound really weird, but I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now. I’m just such a fan, you’re music is sensational,” he rambled, tan cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “I’m sorry I sound like a creep, I’m just really glad this is happening.”

You laughed softly at his embarrassment, shaking your head.

“You don’t sound like a creep. I’m really glad to meet you as well. You’re really sweet,” you said, the compliment rolling off your tongue easily. You the continued, “Would you like to hang out sometime, Calum? We could find a time when we’re both not busy, and go out if you want.”

He smiled, nodding his head in agreement.

“I’d love to.”

The two of you exchanged numbers, and proceeded to say your goodbyes; the show would be starting soon, and you both needed to get back to your dressing rooms.

“See you later, Y/N.”

“Bye, Cal.”

Cal. Oh God, you called him Cal.

It was just a simple nickname, but your mind still raced. What if only his close friends called him that? You weren’t exactly close, you had just met. It probably wasn’t really a big deal, but you couldn’t help but overthink.

Upon returning, you touched up your hair and straightened out your outfit. You were going on first, and 5 Seconds of Summer was scheduled to perform right after you. You knew you needed to focus on your performance, so you pushed your panic about the nickname completely out of your mind. It’s just a nickname, after all.

A crew member knocked on your door, signaling it was showtime. You checked your appearance one last time before heading out the door. You found your guitar backstage and shook out your nerves.

“Y/N!”

You turned around at the sound of your name, and smiled when you saw Calum walking up to you.

“Hey,” you said, adjusting the strap on your shoulder.

“Just wanted to wish you luck,” he said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants.

You grinned and opened your mouth to reply, but the sound of another voice yelling cut you off.

“He has a crush on you!”

A laugh escaped your lips as Calum whipped around and raised a certain finger at whoever yelled; glancing past him, you found the source to be one of his bandmates, Luke, you believed.

“He’s kind of a dumbass,” he sighed, turning back around to face you.

You shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

Although trying to appear casual, your cheeks undeniably red. A crush? It seemed unlikely, he had only just met you, and Luke could easily just be trying to embarrass him. But, still...you wouldn’t mind it if he did have a crush on you.

Before he could say anything else, a crew member tapped you on the shoulder and jabbed his thumb towards the stage. Showtime.

“I’ll see you later,” you said with a smile. He returned it, and you ran onto the stage. The sounds of excited screams filled your ears, and you beamed brightly at the crowd.

“What’s up, Chicago!” You yelled into the microphone, earning a chorus of screams in response. It was a great audience, you could tell.

You started strumming your guitar, and your band started to play as well; one of the singles from your new album.

A smile found its way onto your face as the crowd sang along; that was a feeling nothing could ever beat.

After a few songs, you took your bows and walked off the stage, still buzzing on adrenaline. Calum, Ashton, Luke and Michael were standing backstage, waiting for their turn to perform.

“You did awesome,” Ashton commented, giving you a thumbs up. Michael uttered an agreement, then directing his gaze to Calum. Luke nudged the boy’s shoulder.

“Y-yeah, you were amazing,” he stuttered, grinning. You smiled, patting his shoulder. God, he was adorable when he got flustered.

“Thanks, guys. Good luck!” You waved to them as they made their way on stage, and you handed your guitar off to a crew member. You opted to stay backstage to watch their performance, and you couldn’t help but grin.

They all clearly loved music and performing, and it warmed your heart to see their passion. Calum in particular looked so into it, bouncing around the stage and playing his bass with such a fire in his eyes. He was beyond talented, too.

At one point, he turned to look backstage. He saw you standing there, and quickly shot you a smile. You returned it with a thumbs up, showing you were enjoying the performance. He looked down for a moment, still smiling widely, before heading towards his microphone to sing during Want You Back.

“Would you mind going back to your dressing room, ma’am? We have to clear the area for the incoming stage setup.”

The sound of a voice snapped you out of your attention to the song, and you nodded your head.

“Yeah, of course.”

You took one last look at the band before scurrying away. Once back in your dressing room, you grabbed your phone and opened a new message to Calum.

“They kicked me out of the backstage area :( but you guys did awesome!!”

You sighed happily, reclining into the chair at the vanity. You were happy to have met the Aussie boy, even if it was briefly. A part of you thought maybe, just maybe, the fan’s theories on Twitter could become true one day.

#genny writes #text post #calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #calum hood x reader #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos blurb #5 seconds of summer blurb #5sos x reader #5 seconds of summer x reader #calum x reader #biggest fan

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lololololololilolhwhshjfjdk · 5 years

Text

a little escapade

ryan...is a real treat.

we went on a walk (when it was snowy and cold but i adore the cold) and then he walked me home.

now, he’s told me multiple times that he’s liked me. and at first, i was willing to give it a bit of a try. but there are a few reasons that is a bad idea.

1. he’s somewhat clingy, and i’m his “first real friend” who “understands him.” this...normally tends to make people extra clingy from my experience (i often attract wounded/hurt people who need to heal, and often times i am the only one in years who has treated them decently).

2. he doesn’t test me or challenge me. and truth be told, if someone does not challenge me in the way that i need to be challenged, it does not turn out very well for the person i’m with. (to be perfectly honest, even though i’m mostly aromantic, i would be fully willing to date someone who tests me, even though i don’t have feelings for the person. they give me what i want/need. end of story.)

3. his mother is in a particularly high place in her field and mine. now, that might scream “opportunity” but she takes no bias. if i dated him and got closer to her, maybe it would open up some opportunities, but i’m most likely to wreck it with my impulsive nature.

i don’t like him like that, and there is nothing that he has to offer me to make me stay.

but that’s off topic.

tonight, he did something i thought only happened in those sappy romcoms.

he sent me an encoded question, with three codes. he told me it was personal, and that i had a time limit.

this is obviously binary, right?

i go to decode it and find...

something that suspiciously looks like a backwards encoded sentence. but i ask him about it anyways, to see if he’ll throw me some bait.

damn. well, luckily i copied and pasted the code so even if he deleted it, i could still find out what it said.

next, i flipped it so it wasn’t a backwards sentence.

this...kind of looks like the caesar cipher. i could be wrong, but it doesn’t hurt to check, right?

it took me a few tries, but i finally found the number of letters he moved the code down the alphabet.

though, right before i found the number, he called time.

i didn’t see this second text until after i found the number. but i didn’t care. he said this was a personal question and well...

curiousity killed the cat, right?

i had a feeling i knew what his question would be, but once i saw it, i just felt pity.

i stared at it for a second. oh ryan...

this poor boy should quit while he’s ahead, really. if he had anything about him that i did like, he would still be screwed up forever.

i wouldn’t even feel bad, which is probably the best worst part. i would feel bad for my reputation, but not for wrecking him. it’s upsetting, but true. my empathy levels are too low.

i’m sure i would at least try not to do anything to him. but i know i would slip up and hurt him irreversably. which i suppose is another reason i won’t pursue him.

...

we go on to text a bit more.

as shown in one of the previous screenshots, he tells me not to keep at it.

i’m somewhat flattered he remembered that. my narcissism is kind of happy.

i’m not technically lying here. lie by omission? yes. but i technically was extremely close when he called time.

and i wasn’t going to try and find it anymore since i had already found the answer.

i then mentioned i was curious and he gave me permission to keep looking for the answer.

well, at least i have permission now. but he wants to know if i’ll ever try to actually decode it.

i’m surprised he didn’t find me suspicious, seeing as i always try to pull answers and what he is thinking out of his mind, but oh well.

i didn’t exactly want to deal with what might become another hard conversation. not for him, for me. i told him i would be willing to date him a while ago, but couldn’t because i was too busy and life was too hectic at the time. which was true, because at the time i was somewhat interested. and i was nervous i might wreck him. but now...

i just don’t feel like dealing with him all that much.

so i’ll ignore it until he decides to tell me. hopefully i can think of something to say. maybe it’ll be the truth this time. maybe i’ll reject him once and for all. that would be easier on both of us, i think.

#ryan #manipulative thoughts #narcissistic thoughts #manipulation #long post #this was fun to type out

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 6 years

Text

Fracture 7/10

Please note that this chapter references torture, drugging and character death. I sobbed some ugly tears writing this. It honestly hurt me

If you like Juyeon, go love on @yoosungshoodie, since Juyeon is her OC. The banner comes from @kiserusmoke!

Three months ago

Nari’s train was running late. She frowned at the timetable, muttering to herself that of course it was . She had chosen to take it as an experiment, one that she was careful to lie to her family and friends about. As far as they knew, she was doing it for the environment, when in reality she was considering selling her car. She doubted she would be unemployed for long, but if that proved to be the case, using the bullet train would be easier on her finances than a car.

She took a seat as she waited for the next train, taking her phone from her pocket. She had been checking the business and job listings of three different news sites and loaded up the first, frowning almost immediately when the page finally loaded.

KOREA’S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR: an exclusive interview with the heir to C&R

She could not deny that he was handsome, but the carefully posed photograph inside of his office only added insult to injury. It was difficult not to imagine those stern features dismissing her from C&R.

Nari opened her emails instead, scrolling through the usual spam and lingering over a particularly curious entry.

Paradise awaits you, Nari Song

With a smirk, she opened the e-mail, expecting some kind of shopping coupon or horoscope spam. The actual e-mail was even more cryptic, though, and she read over it several times to try and gauge its meaning.

Don’t you want to escape from this filthy world?

This is an invitation to paradise.

Are you suffering from your past?

We will help the pain go away.

A world filled with pleasure…

A world filled with truth…

A world with no tears….

A world with no rejections…

Accept the angel’s invitation and enter the mysterious messenger.

There was a link at the bottom and Nari clicked it, curious of the messenger and quietly acknowledging the clever marketing at play. No matter how many pretty words an advertisement had, there was no match for a person’s natural curiosity. The appstore entry was equally as vague, listed as the angel’s invitation with no screenshots. Two people before her had offered reviews, claiming their lives were changed as a result of the app, offering no further details than that. Nari read over the page twice before clicking download. She had nothing better to do, after all.

Her train arrived as the app finished downloading and she watched her screen as she gripped the nearest railing. By the first stop, she had created a login and proceeded to the opening screen, which offered no answers either, looking exactly like a messenger platform, with icons for e-mail and some form of texting function. She tapped at each, taking in the empty contact pages and coming to the conclusion that it was some kind of chat room, even if no one appeared to be online.

She was about to put her phone away, deciding to take another look later on, when the screen went blank, displaying green letters of code that she did not recognise.

Three months later

“What foods do you like?” Ray asked, arranging a fresh napkin on a saucer for his guest.

“Hmm?”

Judging from her expression, she was curious of his motives and he couldn’t find it in himself to blame her. The elixir of salvation was, after all, bitter on the senses and he did not want her to suffer any more than was necessary. The very thought of her face crumbling into one of agony left his heart skipping beats and palms clammy.

He had never been able to stand the thought of her coming to harm; had picked her out from hundreds based on that fact alone. She was different to the others: fragile and mysterious and completely out of place in the ordinary world.

“Ah! I’m sorry to ask such a strange question,” he said, “I just wondered if my cooking suited your tastes. If you’d rather something else, I can go and prepare it for you.”

“Oh,” she said, “please don’t worry! Everything here is…”

She gestured at the table, at all of the pastries and soups and other dishes that he had prepared for her.

“This is more than enough.”

“I’m so happy you think so! Although…I must say I am still curious. I’ve never had the chance to cook for someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?”

Ray blushed, realising too late that his words might come across as offensive.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to insult you!”

“You didn’t,” said Nari, her smile softening into one of sympathy. “Hmmm…let me think.”

She never got the chance to tell him, however, for C607 entered the garden and shattered the relative peace.

“Miss Song!” She called, waving and running towards the pavilion as fast as her heels would allow. “Miss Song, good morning!”

C607 had taken to her role as Assistant Park almost too well. Most of the clothes she used when in character came from her own personal collection, which she had abandoned upon her initiation into Mint Eye. The boldness of it made Ray’s toes curl; C607 discarded her beliefs as quickly as her clothes and her love for the paradise was transparently insincere.

“You weren’t in your room,” breathed C607, “I’ve been looking for you.”

She took a seat at the table and helped herself to a cup of coffee, quite deliberately not acknowledging him. He knew it was deliberate; that Miss Park had no reason to interact with him and going out of her way to do so might arouse suspicions, yet he would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him.

“Have you heard from Driver Kim?”

Nari was straight to business and Ray spotted the mean edge to C607’s smile even if she didn’t.

“I spoke to him just a few minutes ago, actually. He’s really sorry about the delay.”

“Is he…” Nari hesitated, thumbs tracing the edge of her cup, “alright?”

“Of course he is! He’s never been better.”

C607 took a sip of her coffee, leaning forward as if to whisper a secret.

“Actually,” she said, “he told me to tell you that we can leave as soon as you finish breakfast.”

Ray pretended he didn’t notice the joy in Nari’s eyes; the way she gulped down the rest of her coffee and dusted crumbs from her lap. He pretended he didn’t notice C607 reaching for her hand and guiding her away from the pavilion; away from him.

And he absolutely pretended he did not see C607 sneering over her shoulder at him.

Nari couldn’t believe her luck any more than she could hide her excitement to go home.

She all but threw her belongings together to the amusement of Juyeon, who lingered in the doorway and pointed out the things she missed.

“At this rate, that Ray guy will think you’re running away from him,” she laughed. “He is a little weird, don’t you think?”

Nari disapprovingly glanced up from her purse.

“He’s a little… enthusiastic,” she said, “but he means well.”

“Haven’t you seen those long lingering looks he gives you? I think he has a crush on you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“I’m not being ridiculous! It’s clear to anyone!”

Nari sighed, turning to chastise Juyeon, only to freeze at the sight of her swooping forward with a cloth in her hand. It smelled of something, something sweet and artificial, and she writhed against Juyeon’s grasp, digging her nails into the nearest arm and throwing back her head to try and loosen the one gripping her hair.

She realised it was chloroform only moments before her eyes fell shut and her body limp. She stared at her own outstretched hand, reaching and flailing, convinced she would remember Juyeon’s smile forever.

Jumin’s upcoming wedding had had something of a ripple effect on C&R. For the majority of employees it was gossip; hushed comments and carefully hidden tabloids. For the other select few, it was extra work. Almost overnight, the country had grown fascinated with Nari Song, whether it was the clothes she wore, her origins, the hidden truth of her relationship with Jumin; there was some part of her that intrigued everyone.

Suddenly the PR department had not only the prospect of a scandal to deal with, but weeks of careful research into a person that ordinarily would take months. They needed answers for any given official statement and ideas for how best to build her public image, whether it was denying the engagement came as a result of a pregnancy or scripting her replies to interview questions.

On the receiving end of arguably the highest amount of fallout was one Jaehee Kang, who found herself in an endless cycle of adjusting schedules, advising the PR department, passing on memos and more.

She had come to dread it whenever Jumin called her to his office because it never preceded anything good. This time around was no exception to the rule and she mentally reshuffled all of her recent e-mails and phone calls in an attempt to gauge exactly what Jumin was about to tell her. It seemed almost optimistic to wonder if he had a new pet project in mind.

“Mr Han?” She said, after knocking at his door. “You asked to see me?”

Jumin was in the process of flipping through the pages of one of the files from the mountain at his desk.

“Ah, Assistant Kang,” he said and waved her over, though never looked up from the file. “I have a task for you. It’s of the utmost priority.”

“Of course,” she said, pulling out the notebook she had been keeping her pocket. The constant adjustments and additions and reshuffles were difficult to keep up with at the best of times and she had taken to scribbling them down where possible.

“I need you to make a cancellation.”

“A cancellation,” she said, pen at the ready. “Of which particular appointment?”

“All of them.”

Jaehee glanced up from her notebook.

“P-pardon?”

Surely she had misheard, though that hope rapidly dissolved as he finally set aside the file in his hands.

“Sorry…that was vague,” he said. “I would like for you to cancel everything in regards to my engagement. My regular business appointments may remain the same.”

He said it casually, though Jaehee could only stare. He had finalised the design for the cufflinks he would wear on his wedding day only the night before and cancelling months of work in a single day never happened without a good reason. She wondered if she ought to ask about Nari, though decided against it. If the worst truly had happened, then reminding Jumin of the incident would only make matters worse.

Instead she accepted his task and pulled her phone from her pocket after sitting back down at her own desk.

Nari….is everything okay?

Ray had spent most of the evening and some of the morning preparing dishes for Nari’s breakfast. He had chosen each and every one based on things he had watched her eat through hacked security cameras in the penthouse she called home. He had cast his mind back to mornings in which she made coffee and wrapped her arms around Jumin’s shoulders, stepping up onto her tiptoes for kisses as he picked up his cup. He had remembered chefs entering the premises and anxiously waiting at the side of their dining table until dismissed. He also remembered Nari reaching into the back of the kitchen cupboard for sugary cereal: the same sugary cereal that Jumin occasionally reached for when he ate breakfast alone.

Ray wasn’t sure when exactly he had mentally inserted himself into every situation; cooking Nari pancakes instead of Jumin Han. He was not sure when he had decided she was miserable and only he could make her smile. They were selfish thoughts, out of line with the Saviour’s teachings, but his mind drifted nonetheless.

After Nari left with Juyeon, he returned to the kitchen, sinking his hands into the steaming dishwater and scrubbing each plate at a time. Technically speaking, he did not need to undertake such a task himself. Any given believer would happily have accepted any such order. He wanted to clear his thoughts, though, wanted to scrub the scrub the plates clean where he could not his mind. He wanted to wash away Nari’s happy expression at the prospect of returning home.

He had always condemned Juyeon and her selfishness; her desire for approval more so than paradise. The irony of it was clear to him now that he wanted Nari to smile and laugh for no one but him. He wanted her to smooth the creases out of his shirt, rearrange his tie, rush to greet him when he walked through the door. Even the sting of the hot water could not erase it.

The previous night he had reached for elixir, desperate to quieten his mind and focus. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the dark thoughts at the back of his mind, though. The whispers that repeated everything he did not want to hear.

The saviour will use her to convert Jumin Han.

He scrubbed harder.

She will choose him at the everlasting party

Harder, he scrubbed harder.

Even in paradise, she won’t love you.

He stopped, the water from the sink spilling onto the floor.

You’re wrong, he thought to himself. You’re wrong and I’m not listening to you anymore.

He squeezed his eyes open and shut, reaching to place the dish he had been washing alongside all of the others. There was no dish, though, only his hands; hands that he had so vigorously scrubbed that they were bleeding.

I won’t listen

His squeezed his hands into fists, the sting of his broken skin satisfying on the senses.

I won’t listen.

I won’t

Posing undercover as an acolyte came with an equal amount of perks and downsides. Nobody questioned Jihyun’s ignorance on the matter of their special guest and he found that some believers had curiosities of their own. It was, however, increasingly difficult to continue feigning ignorance. Even as someone outside of the castle for an extended period of time, he should have known which rooms were normally out of bounds. Twice they caught him at the stairwell and twice he lied about his presence there. Finally, on the third attempt, he changed his tactics and told a half truth.

“I want to see her,” he said, shrugging off the believer’s hand on his shoulder. “The Saviour thinks she is special…I want to see it for myself.”

It was a risky move, considering, but ultimately one that paid off. The three of them climbed the stairs to an empty floor, eerily silent to the point that everything they said and did left an echo.

“I heard her ceremony is tonight,” said one of his group, a woman, whose pretty face lay obscured by her hood. “I overheard Mister Ray telling Miss Jenny that the elixir would be ready once he added the final touches.”

Elixir

Just the word sent shivers up his spine. He knew the implications even if he did not the finer details. Jihyun stopped in his tracks, wanting nothing more than to steal Nari away from that terrible place. He opened his mouth to demand they take him to the saviour; to tell them that he was no believer. Before he could, though, footsteps rang out in the empty corridor and his heart skipped a beat.

A handful of other believers were coming towards them, led by a woman in a magenta uniform. He knew her face, despite the fact that he had only seen her on a couple of occasions.

Back when he was still recovering from his eye surgery at Jumin’s penthouse, he had taken every chance to help Nari adjust to her new role. Sometimes that amounted to describing the personality of interviewers or the places she should avoid if she didn’t want to be swarmed by the media. At other times, his help arrived in the form of making tea and reading through the seemingly endless lists of things that needed her attention.

On a few of those occasions, Nari’s assistant had visited the penthouse, though for the most part he only ever encountered her as a disembodied voice on the other end of the phone. The few times he had seen her, she had been clutching bubble tea or informing Nari of appointments added to her schedule at the last moment. He was sure he had seen her at one of his exhibitions too, though the last time he had had one he and Rika were still together, so he was sure he must have been mistaken.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense for Rika to plant someone like her so close to Nari and he wondered exactly how long she had been planning such a move. How long had Juyeon known about Rika’s plans? In any case, he realised that she must have been the ‘Miss Jenny’ the other acolytes had spoken of.

He clenched his hands into fists at what followed her; she led a number of hooded believers, one of whom cradled a body in their arms.

No. Not a body. Nari.

The acolyte held her with the same amount of care one would expect of a ragdoll, allowing one of her arms to dangle to the floor as the other lay crushed against their body.

All he could think about was her laughter all of those months ago. The three of them once played poker; Nari setting down her earrings and Jumin a book from his shelf. He had long wondered what to bet himself and ultimately set down an IOU.

“An IOU?” Jumin had said, examining the paper.

“Yes,” he said. “Whoever wins this can ask one thing of me in the future.”

“That’s potentially dangerous.”

“Are you suggesting either of us would take advantage of him?” Nari had laughed and, beaten, Jumin shuffled the cards.

Unsurprisingly, she won, and Jihyun knew from Jumin’s soft smile as she turned the pages of her new book that he was not the only one who had allowed her to win.

Of late, her laughter only left him guilty. It was his fault that she had been tricked into the apartment; his fault that she lay unconscious in front of him. Every time she laughed, he remembered Jumin’s lips against his own and his own deep, dark need to believe she could not be trusted.

He remembered Jumin’s insistences as they sat on the roof of the penthouse that they tell her about the kiss they had shared. He wanted her to know everything, and it was Jihyun who protested. He hated change, yet wanted everything to. He did not want to hurt her even slightly, yet wanted to steal away everything she held dear.

He was the one who couldn’t be trusted; Nari’s bright smile when she returned to the penthouse only serving as a cruel reminder of his betrayal. She was so eager to know if they had enjoyed the meteor shower and he realised too late her full intentions. It was no coincidence that she had left them alone together; that she had orchestrated everything in the hopes that they would repair their friendship.

He could not bring himself to regret the kiss, but he was sure he would regret the betrayal for the rest of his life.

“Juyeon,” he called, dragging down the hood of his cloak.

She seemed surprised that anyone had called out to her by name, though the shock left her as soon as she saw him standing there.

“Let her go,” he said, gaze drifting from her to Nari, his trembling hands breaking any illusion of composure.

“Well, well, well,” said Juyeon, approaching him in the same slow, practised fashion a tiger might. “What have we here?”

They took him to a cell in the basement. Jihyun knew from observations and conversations with acolytes that up until recently, such a thing was rarely done; it was the norm to take prisoners and any intruders before the saviour until they were cleansed and no longer deemed dangerous or, alternatively, died in captivity. For him to be isolated so quickly meant only one thing: he was considered an enemy of the organisation and if Rika came to see him at all, it would be to announce whatever torture she had in mind for him.

The guards draped a hood over his head that smelled mouldy, as if it was designated for drownings, and he choked at the smell as they pushed his shoulder to get him moving. They probably only walked down a couple of short flights of stairs, but it felt like he walked for miles. Finally, the guard tugged the cloak from his head and kicked him into the back of his new prison, locking it behind them with a mutter that they would come back once they had received orders.

“Come back and let me out of here,” Jihyun threw his body against the bars. “Tell the saviour to come!”

They did not acknowledge him, though, no matter how hard he shook the bars. He slumped to the floor despairingly, considering Nari’s limp body in the acolyte’s arms. In retrospect everything was obvious to him; he should never have suspected her, should never have fallen into the trap of questioning her intentions solely because she had won the heart of his friend. He should have told her everything from the beginning instead of succumbing to jealousy.

He wondered if he would ever get the chance to explain her current circumstances; if he would ever be able to take her hands in his and explain how he had kissed Jumin on the roof of the penthouse. The latter scared him most of all and he could not bear to imagine her reaction. In his heart, she would always be happy and smiling, brewing good coffee and pouring bad wine. She would always be the one who laughed at his double entendres and scolded him for missing meals.

And in that moment, just like Ray before him, he realised his love for her like a storm cloud overhead.

“M….Mathter V, thir,” someone mumbled in the adjoining cell, dragging him out of his thoughts. He peered into the darkness to make out the owner and gasped when he saw.

“Driver Kim!”

This was not the Driver Kim of days past, however. This man drooled blood and had cuts across his temples.

“What happened to you?” Jihyun said, holding onto the bars that separated them. “Who did this?”

Driver Kim’s eyes glazed over at the memory and Jihyun regretted asking him.

“I’ll get you out of here,” said Jihyun, seeing the occupants of the other cells for the first time. He recognised them all; had seen their faces in Luciel’s files. They were all members of the agency and all MIA. The ones that weren’t unconscious groaned in pain at their injuries, some even chained to the floor of their cell.

“I’ll save you,” Jihyun muttered. “I’ll save you all.”

Somehow.

Nari’s senses were muffled when she opened her eyes. For a moment, she thought she was back in the penthouse and half expected Jumin to be beside her.

It came as something of a surprise when she found herself tied to a chair in a strange room, arms bound behind her back and someone, whose voice she only half recognised, muttering that she was waking up.

Nari lifted her head, instantly regretting it as a sharp headache flooded her senses. She hissed with pain, leaning over until she could see straight ahead before making a second attempt to sit up.

Juyeon was standing on the other side of the room… or at least she thought it was Juyeon. This Juyeon had on a strange magenta uniform with a rose fixed to her blazer. What’s more, even though that Juyeon stared her in the face, there was no hint of recognition in her features.

“Ju…Juyeon?”

Juyeon did not reply. It was someone else who reached for her face: someone with sharp nails and a black mask that obscured their features.

“Welcome to paradise, Nari Song.”

They reached to clamp their hand down over her nose, clutching a vial of a bright blue liquid in the other. Nari clenched her mouth shut, unable to tear her eyes away from Juyeon, who watched her struggle without a reaction. Beside her stood Ray, who fiddled with his hands and avoided her gaze.

Her chest burned and she gasped for air, giving her assailant the opportunity to force the bottle against her lips. The liquid inside was bitter, burning her throat and insides, through when she tried to spit it out the masked stranger slammed her hand over her lips, forcing them shut until she had no choice but to swallow.

“What have you….done to me?” She asked, trying to spit out the remainder of the liquid, stomach churning so forcefully that she was sure she was going to throw up.

“Please,” she murmured, the shakiness of her hands transferring into her voice. “Let me go.”

“Don’t look so sad,” they said, so close that their breath was warm against her face. “I would never hurt someone so precious to Ray.”

Nari’s heart skipped a beat and Ray called out from the other side of the room.

“Saviour-”

“You may leave.”

Nari’s thoughts had been muddled and confused even before having a chemical forced down her throat and she dug her nails into her palms in an attempt to stop the room spinning. She remembered Juyeon’s words only a short time earlier:

At this rate, that Ray guy will think you’re running away from him. He is a little weird, don’t you think?

Haven’t you seen those long lingering looks he gives you? I think he has a crush on you.

As Ray and Juyeon left the room, Ray’s hands twitching and his expression one of concern, Nari could not help but think about how comforting it was that at least one part of her stay had been real. Perhaps it was the drug, or her own fear, but when the door closed it echoed in her senses. What was going to happen to her now? She wished Juyeon and Ray would just come back, for even if their intentions were far from pleasant, she would at the very least recognise their faces. There was something strange about their ‘saviour’; a kind of familiarity that she did not understand.

“You have such beautiful eyes,” said the saviour, “I can see why Jumin favours you.”

Nari’s heart skipped a beat.

“What do you know about Jumin?”

“I know that Jumin is the CEO in-line,” said the saviour. “I know that he prefers the finer things in life… Egyptian cotton, aged whiskeys…intelligent women. Most importantly, I know that he wouldn’t let just anybody into his inner circle. Tell me, how do you find my RFA?”

Up until that point, C&R was the most obvious reason she had been kidnapped. She had, of course, forgotten that without enemies to the RFA she might never have arrived in the apartment all of those months ago.

“ Your RFA?” She said, realisation rapidly sinking in.

She finally understood why the masked woman looked familiar. Even with the mask on, her resemblance to the girl in V’s photographs was obvious.

“No,” said Nari. “You- you’re dead!”

“That’s what V told you,” said Rika, “and you must not believe his lies.”

Nari was not so naive as to think V had never lied to or kept information from her. She had watched him play poker, after all. He had an excellent poker face even as he let her win.

“I’m sure he had his reasons.”

“It seems he has already poisoned you,” laughed Rika. “I wonder what sweet promises he whispered in your ear to make you trust him so much.”

“He didn’t whisper anything! I know he’s a good man.”

Rika sighed, clearly unimpressed with her answer.

“Tell me Miss Song,” she said softly, placing a hand on Nari’s shoulder, “what are you afraid of? Shall I guess?”

“I…no…I-”

“Hmmmm,” Rika searched her face. “You stayed with the RFA even after there was no need for you to. You attend every meeting Jumin asks of you… could it be?”

She smiled cruelly, sending shivers down Nari’s spine.

“Are you afraid of being alone?”

Suddenly Nari was fourteen again, sticking pictures of idols she did not even like to the inside of her locker. Rika pressed a finger against her lips, coming to a conclusion before she could confirm or deny it.

“Sssssh, it’s okay,” she said. “In this place, no one will leave you. We will be kinder to you than the RFA. Nobody here will dictate how you dress or what you eat. We will not lie to you or ignore you, like Jumin and the rest of the RFA.”

Nari thrashed, eager to shake off Rika’s touch.

“I LOVE Jumin,” she protested. “I want to make him happy.”

Even as she said it, she knew how it sounded. She would not have believed her either.

“You’re very kind,” said Rika. “And so simple minded. What makes you so sure that he cares for you?”

Ordinarily, Nari would have been offended by such an insinuation. Ever since news of her engagement went public, she had scowled at so many articles about the status of her private life that Jumin had stroked her hair and warned her that she would age prematurely. Now, though, all she could think about was the clatter of her engagement ring against the kitchen tiles and Jumin’s words on the messenger.

Perhaps I only loved you because I thought you were something more. Perhaps you were always meant to be a stranger to the RFA. I think… that if I had not proposed to you so publicly, in such a way, I might never have married you.

Every breath left her mind and body fluttering, as if she bobbed up and down on a stormy sea. She hated herself and her own naivety. How had she never realised that she was being manipulated? How had she allowed herself into such a situation?

“He loves me!” She spat, closing her eyes. She refused to believe Jumin’s affection was a dream; just another stain in her ivory tower.

Rika seemed delighted by her responses, reaching out a finger to catch her tears.

“Jumin…loves me,” said Nari, more to herself than to Rika. “He loves me.”

He loves me.

She remembered Sarah Choi’s horrified expression as he leaned in for their first kiss; a kiss that tasted of pancakes and gave her butterflies.

She remembered how her hand trembled when he fell to one knee at the party.

She remembered the scent of roses against her skin as he sat behind her in the bathtub to wash her back.

He loves me .

She also remembered his expression in their last argument; the sound of him moving around the kitchen as she waited for him to knock on her bedroom door.

He loves me

He loves

She repeated it even as everything went black and her head lolled over onto her chest.

“Don’t worry,” said Rika, stroking her hair. “I’m not the same as them. I want you exactly as you are.”

She cupped a hand around Nari’s face, feeling for her breath against her skin. She had made such a powerful elixir and many people were not strong enough to survive the ordinary batches. Those that did came out transformed, butterflies from a painful chrysalis, wiser for their introduction into the truth of the world.

Nari’s breaths did not come, however. Rika’s hand remained as cold as it had always been. With a frown, she pressed her fingers against the other woman’s neck, feeling for a pulse where there was none.

She let go of Nari’s head, then, sighing deeply and crossing the room to pour herself a cup of tea.

Perhaps they were not so similar after all.

Three months earlier

#mystic messenger #mysme #jumin han #jihyun kim #tw torture #tw drug use #SURE WOULD BE NICE IF TUMBLR DIDN'T EAT MY READ MORES

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