#I don’t listen to much country but god that fuckin song took me by the throat yesterday for some reason

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #543

WOW look who it is. Long story short my mom got a new charger for her old fossil of a laptop, and I am very proud of it for working semi-decently?? So here’s a survey after two whole honkin’ months!

Do you think you look good with red hair? Dude I loved having red hair. What is your favorite middle name for a girl? I mean that depends on the first name and to some extent the last. What color was the last scarf you wore? I don't wear them unless I go out in the very rare snow and Mom makes me, lmao. That hasn't happened in so many years that I don't remember the scarf. When was the last time you took a selfie? Wow, it's been a very long time. Months. Do you enjoy getting caught in the rain? I really don't, I don't enjoy feeling wet unless I'm like, swimming. How many of your grandparents are still alive? None. Who is your favorite music artist at the moment? My favorite artist of all time is Ozzy of course, but I'm going through a MASSIVE Rammstein phase right now; they've been a "favorite" for years, but I've been exploring more of their discography and learning about them personally and they are My Dads... except the bassist. I have a new husband. Are you allergic to any foods, and if so, what? No. I do have a violent heartburn response to bananas if I haven't taken my prescription antacid, though. Which insect annoys you the most? Gnats. How many proms have you been to? I went to two: my then-boyfriend's senior as well as my senior. Do you prefer hard rock music or soft rock? Hard, but I enjoy both. Did you ever own a Furby? I did for whatever fuckin reason. Were you a bigger fan of Backstreet Boys or *N Sync? Backstreet Boys, def. I liked both, though. Have you ever had sex on the beach? God no, that sounds horrible, even if it was a private beach. I do noooot like sand. Where does your best friend live? My best friend is my boyfriend, and he lives like 30 minutes from me. Where did you last hang out? I haven't "hung out" anywhere in over a week, when I visited Girt's house for the first time. I wanna go backkkk. Why did you get a MySpace? Probably because my friends were, idr. Would you ever get back together with any of your ex’s if they asked you? Nope, bye. Do you remember the first time you ever went into the ocean? I don't. Have you ever stolen from your parents? No, because I'm not my uncle. (: If you owned a dalmation, what would you name him/her? I do know if it was a female, it would be Perdita from the movie. Idk about male tho. What country music star should be honored in the Hall of Fame? I don't like or listen to country music, idk. Would you eat cat food for $500? Shit, maybe. I'd try because that's a decent amount of money that you can't just scoff at. Have you ever had an ultrasound? Yes, on my liver when I was a teenager. I can't remember why I had to get it, but I know everything was fine. Where do you want to be at a year from now? It'd be nice if I've lost weight and regained some leg strength, as well as be stable on working medications. Less importantly but what would be nice would be if Girt and I are talking about moving in together or already are. Do you like pickles? I fucking LOVE pickles and have been craving them lately. Where do you work? I don't. Unless I build my own business of some sort, I just like... don't see me ever being able to handle a proper job for so many reasons. Idk what I'm doing in the "earn money to live" department, y'all. Have you ever thought you could do a better job at being president? God no. You’re in line at Taco Bell, what’s your order? I pretty much always get the cheese quesadilla and fiesta potatoes. Sometimes I'll swap the latter out for those little cinnamon bite things. Is your handwriting large, tiny, or pretty normal? I think it's a normal size, if not a bit smaller. Are you currently listening to a song? Remember that a Rammstein thing I mentioned lmao well I'm listening to "Sex" right now and just real talk it's going on a certain playlist lmfao LOOK it's a fun song What are you doing tomorrow? I don't really know. I would like to see my boyfriend because he has been SWAMPED with work and other responsibilities and it's been awhile, but I think he has work tomorrow? Maybe? God I can never keep track of his schedule. Can others make you cry easily? It is more than "easy." You barely have to do anything at all lmao. Whose house did you last go to? My older sister's. I helped Mom watch the kids. How has the past week been? It's literally been one of the most hectic but also hopefully emotionally developmental weeks of my life. I enacted a split from my best friend, which was majorly goddamn hard, but for my own good, and I feel I've been learning things about myself and taking steps towards bettering me and my life. When did you first get your period? I don't remember other than it was a normal age. Have you ever eaten a Big Mac? No, I've actually never wanted to. I don't like lettuce on my burgers. Are you engaged right now? No. Name the last video game you’ve played. Girt and I recently beat the remake of Shadow of the Colossus! I was so proud of him, he beat the final colossus with no hints. :') Do you believe in sex before marriage? For most relationships, I personally think it's smarter to... y'know, find out if you're sexually compatible with someone if that's important to you before deciding to tie the knot. But do what you're comfortable with. Have you ever smoked marijuana? No. If it was legal though, I'd honestly consider it for when my anxiety flares up. I don't want to smoke anything, cigs or weed, but if it was only an occasional thing to calm the fuck down, I'd do weed. Who are you currently living with? My mom and pets. Do you feel like you need to lose weight? This isn't an "I feel like I should" thing, I literally need to. I'm not your go-to visual of an example of this, but I am by definition obese and completely, totally serious, I wish it on fuckin NOBODY. It. Sucks. Actual. Ass. Are you close with your cousins? No. Are you good at rapping? I've never tried, but there is zero way. I stutter too much. How often do you go to church? By this point in my life, I would rather get decked in the goddamn face than sit through an actual sermon. Do you feel like you’re judged for your looks? Oh, absolutely. Do taking tests make you nervous? Not really, at least not usually. Can you say the alphabet in more than one language? In German, yes. Fun fact, "y" doesn't exist in native German words, and in an instance where the letter is referenced, it is pronounced like "oopsilon" over yonder. What do you want out of life? I just want to be happy and feel like I made a positive difference. Oh, and have fun. Where’s the last fast food place you’ve eaten at? McDonald's. Do you like Wendy’s frosties? They're nothing special, but yeah I like 'em. They always take too long to be drinkable through a straw, though, with how thick they are. How long of a drive are you from California? Dude California is the LITERAL polar opposite of the country lmao, it would take days to drive there. Do you ever get carsick? No. How long can you go without sleeping? Once or possibly twice, I've gone around three days with zero sleep, and I wasn't even tired when I finally said "okay I need sleep" for my health. This occasion along with a few others actually make me wonder if I have bipolar 1 instead of 2, because that right there sounds like mania. Do you groom your eyebrows? Not really anymore. What was the last thing you took a picture of? Omg, when I was watching the kids with Mom, Ryder was being REALLY cute with Emerson, hugging and lifting her, and he let me take a picture of them. Emerson even smiled at the camera with her big brother. :') Does the weather affect your mood? If so, in what ways? It does, actually; dark and dreary days tend to lend to my depression. Hot weather also just makes me generally miserable if I don't have AC. What is your favorite thing to go shopping for? I live to window shop for ball pythons on Morph Market. *sobs* Are you part of the LGBTQIA+ community? As a pansexual, yes. Are you scared of growing older? Yes, with how immensely weak my body *already* is. Would you ever consider adopting or fostering children? No. People are fan-fucking-tastic for doing it, like so much respect to 'em, but it's not for me. Would you consider yourself to be petty? Not at all, genuinely. Can you roll your tongue? Not well at all, no. Sometimes when I've been alone lately tho I've kinda been practicing in order to speak German more appropriately lmao. I downloaded a German-learning app yesterday actually and have started it, because I regret not having become fully fluent in the language faaaaar too frequently. Even if I never reach my goal of visiting Germany, it'll be a personal victory for me, an accomplishment to remember. You are more likely to stop wearing something because? It gets too tight. Do you speak a second language? bitch i'm GONNA How many books do you have out in the public areas of your house? I don't think any, actually. Do you like fried chicken? I HATE fried chicken. What was the very first social media site you signed up for? MySpace. Can you see yourself marrying your current partner? (if you have a partner) That's the goal. Are you the type of person who knows exactly what they want in life? Eek, no. What was the last thing you felt nostalgic about? I guess old friendships. That happens a lot. What’s something you’ve done that sounds too crazy to be true? I've lost count of how many times I've been admitted to psych hospitals, but I know it's a number that would make people think i'm actually clinically fucking insane. Are there any flowers planted outside your house? No, just some small bushes. What’s the weirdest decoration you’ve seen in someone else’s home? *shrug* Did you have your own bathroom when you were growing up? No. Does anyone in your family smoke? My dad does. How far are you into the book you’re currently reading? I'm rather early in. Have you ever had a pet escape and run away? No indoor animals, but growing up, we had a cat infestation outside, and they would sometimes just vanish. Usually the males, but that is completely normal for mature, unfixed toms. Please fix your pets and keep them inside. Do any of your exes know each other? I'll go with everyone who has had the "boyfriend/girlfriend" title. Jason and Juan knew each other and did not get along. Jason and Girt also met at least once when we all hung out at my place, and Sara has met Girt once, again when we hung at my place. What’s an opinion you find impossible to take seriously? I still haven't decided to this day if the "birds are fake" conspiracy is an actual belief some people have or just a joke. God, I hope it's a joke. What was the very first election you voted in? This previous one. Do you know how to make omelettes? No. Do you feel positive and optimistic about your future? Man idk. Who’d you last see in a tux? Probably the groom or groomsmen at the wedding I shot years ago, idk. Have you ever sexted? No, it's not for me. Out of everyone you know, who was the most heart? My mama. Who’s the bravest person you know? ^ Do you ever make up retarded words with your friends? How about we don't abuse the word "retarded." But I know what you mean and in which case, no. It's really, really weird, it's actually some strange pet peeve of mine when people completely make up random words and actually apply them as if they truly mean something, unless they're defining things set in a fantasy universe that actually need identification. I don't know if that made any sense whatsoever, but it makes me cringe idk. Have you ever dated someone who was real sportsy? No. What profession do you admire the most? Probably those that risk their lives for others, like firemen. And surgeons. Have you ever made a fake profile, for any reason? Nope. Have you ever had a teacher that also taught your parents? Yes, actually, in college. Do you have anything planned for the summer? Mom, Nicole, and I might visit one of Mom's brother's family in New York for like a week, but there are some concerns about me being able to physically handle what we have planned. Like this isn't just in my head, my mother, sister, and uncle have talked about it and it's been decided I'm probably going to have to stay with a nearby aunt while they're out on the river on a boat. Do you walk fast or slow? Slow. Once upon a time I was a fast walker. What would you do if you found a small, lost child? Stay with them and first try to find their parents, and if that's not successful, call the cops. Whose arms do you feel the safest in? My boyfriend's. What was the last meal you ate? Mom made some sausage and eggs this morning, but I couldn't eat much. I just don't have an appetite, but I needed food. Have you memorized your social security number? It's funny, I know it sometimes. I know the last six digits, but for some reason usually not the first part. It comes to me sometimes, though. What’s the last food you ate that was stale?Ugh, a bagel. It was SO dry that I couldn't even finish it. Would you ever consider moving back to your hometown? Well, it depends where. It's not a "good" city, but I mean I don't know every little nook and cranny of it. It's a very small town though, so. Describe your laugh: I sound like a fucking hyena. How did you meet the last person you kissed? We were both in the band of our high school. Have you ever snuck someone into your house before? No. Is there something your significant other does that bothers you completely? No. When was the last time you changed your bed sheets? Very recently, after I recovered from my cold. Mom taught us to always do that after being sick. Do you think Manwich is amazing or completely gross? I think it's really good, I just hate how messy it can be. When was the last time someone kissed you on the cheek? Wow I'm not sure. Girt normally goes for the forehead instead of cheek with that kind of kiss, but I mean maybe it was still him? What are two instruments you’d like to learn to play? Violin and either electric guitar or piano. Would you rather eat grape or strawberry jelly or jam? Grape. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare before? No. Would you ever think about getting your nose pierced? I'm getting it re-pierced at some point. Has anyone of the opposite sex ever hit you before? No, let's keep it that way. What’s your favorite gaming system? PS2 had the best games. When was the last time you thought someone was completely pathetic? Hm... I can't say I'm sure. If you have your ears pierced, when did you get them pierced? The lobes, I don't remember. My tragus was pierced as a teen, but the hole closed when I had to take the ring out at the psych hospital; I honestly can't recall how l ong ago I got it redone. it's been a while. Have you ever had a significant other who hit you? No, good luck seeing me tolerate that. Has anyone ever called you stubborn? Oh god yes. What is the meanest thing someone called you? A martyr, and not in the "I'd die for my beliefs" way. I've never forgotten it, probably never will. It came from Jason's friend who barely fucking knew me. Have you ever been paid to build something for someone? No. Are you a decent singer? No, I can't hold a note. Would you rather wear hoodies or jackets? Hoodies, for sure. When was the last time you were asked on a date? I have zero fuckin clue lmao. I don't think Girt and I have been on a "real" date yet, surprisingly. It doesn't really bother me though, chilling at each other's houses is more comfortable and I always feel absolutely horrendous if he pays for ANYTHING for me. Who is the one person you trust the most? My mom or Girt, I don't know who to pick. I'm full aware Mom has lied to me in the past, meanwhile Girt has always been immensely truthful. I dunno, one of 'em. Who is your favorite comedian? I don't think I have one, really. Do you own any exercise machines? No, but Mom seems very intent on getting a nice treadmill once the inheritance is finally fucking sorted. She and I both know my legs are going, and it feels like that's my last hope. Where was the last place you went? A clinic that offers walk-in service because I have a sinus infection from the greatest depths of Hell. Was prescribed some stuff to start taking tonight.

#i'm doubtful these will be AS frequent as they once were but it's something #survey #surveys #random survey #random surveys #random questions

[crystallizedkingdoms]

I’m going to fucking ruin my Spotify wrapped with how many times I’ve listened to Mama’s Broken Heart yesterday and now today.

#I don’t listen to much country but god that fuckin song took me by the throat yesterday for some reason #sie shitposts

[paisley-print]

3:00am : George Strait Sang It Better.

About:  The two of you make your way home from the bar... 

Rating: SFW

Word count: 1635

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Warnings: HEAVY ANGST I AM SO SORRY (no I’m not hehehe), Curse words, fluff, mentions of death, grief, mentions of alcohol, mentions of vom*t ,implied age gap. 

NOTE: Not me making myself cry....not that. Also I love country music y'all can square up on me if you like. I find it funny how I am turning this satire of a character into a Nicholas sparks protagonist. Wild.

MIDNIGHT MASTER LIST

3:00am : George Strait Sang It Better

“I’m not drunk.” 

Jack had you slung over his shoulder “I don’t believe that’s a correct statement.”

“Are you proud of me for beating all those guys at pool?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I am sugar, you know…. I think the whole bar was lookin’ to take you home after that.”

Jack had spent most of the night sitting back and watching you interact with the other patrons. How you flitted about like a little fairy; all giddy and flushed from the alcohol.  He enjoyed seeing men and women ogle over you. The looks on their faces when he scooped you up to leave was priceless. 

“Wha?! No! Only you can take me home!”

He smirked “that is right babygirl- only me.”

You giggled and whispered to him, “Jack?”

He whispered back to you “what?”

“May I smack your ass please?”

You heard him chuckle “only cuz you asked so nicely.”

You gave his ass a light tap “boop”

“Excuse me mam I said smack not a boop. My ass is too incredible to have it booped.”

“Well, I booped you- watcha gonna do about it?”

“Might not help you take off your makeup when we get home.”

You gasped dramatically, “you wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me honey,” he shot back. 

You cleared your throat, “wait, put me down.”

His brows knit together, “you gotta throw up?” 

You hummed in response.

He took you by the waist and placed you down, keeping his hands there to make sure you didn’t take a header into the brick wall.

Before he could react you flashed him a bright grin, broke from his touch and proceeded to skip down the street. It took him a second to realize he had been conned; he had to jog a little to keep up with you. “Girl, where in the hell do you think you’re goin’?....... y/n?”

“Do you hear that?” You asked, rounding the corner onto a totally empty side street. This side of town was mostly strip malls and county buildings.  A record store was playing music from inside...it floated through the street and echoed lazily into the humid June night. “My father used to sing this song to me.”

The song was a cover of ‘Cross My Heart’ written by George Strait but sung by Dierks Bentley. “God I haven’t heard this song in years” you breathed, making your way into the street and laying down under the streetlamp.  You sang along, “I cross my heart And promise to, Give all I’ve got to give, To make all your dreams come true.”

Jack stood off to the side, getting more and more frustrated. “I’m not gonna scrape you off the sidewalk if you get hit.”

You laughed, unable to see that he was upset…. “hit by what? All the cars?” The street was completely deserted, most everybody was home in bed. “You will always be the miracle, That makes my life complete, And as long as there’s a breath in me, I’ll make yours just as sweet.” 

Jack shook his head, shifting uneasily on his feet. 

It was an absolutely beautiful night- full moon, warm, not a single cloud obstructing the sky. You gasped and sat up “Jack please dance with me!”

“I’m tired, put your shoes on- let’s go-”

You gave him the puppy dog eyes “but it’s perfect! The song is almost over anyway-” 

He snapped, losing his temper and shouting at you. “What part of I’m fucking tired do you not understand? Come get your shoes and stop acting like a goddamn child!”

You stared at him wide eyed while the music played on.  The two of you had little spats in the past….but you had never seen him do anything close to that.  Sobriety struck you in an instant. You held tears back and pulled yourself from the asphalt.  Silently, you took your shoes from him and placed them on your feet.

His tone was still a little harsh but not nearly as bad as before, “you want me to carry you?”

“No” you said quickly “I can walk - thank you.”

-

Jack pulled the car to a stop at an empty intersection and waited for the light to turn green.

You were the first one to speak “sometimes I get too excited and act stupid... I apologize for not listening to you when you said you wanted to go. I’ll listen better next time.”

He sighed and hesitated, “I’m sorry I didn’t dance with you.”

You shrugged, “it’s okay, you were tired...plus George Strait sang it better anyway.”

“No, it’s not that-” 

You could tell that he was fighting something, but you didn’t know what. His lack of verbal communication frustrated you at times, however it was something you had been learning to accept. Each day you noticed his tells and from those you would peace together how he was feeling. He would get boisterous when he was nervous, silent when he was focused, chatty when content...so on and so forth.

Although you would rather him tell you these things, you understood that he was a man raised in a way that forbade overly emotional declarations. He was getting better the safer he felt with you and it was okay that he wasn’t perfect with it just yet. Jack had spent years shutting people out, it was going to take time for him to break the habit.

“-that was my wedding song,” he confessed.

You nodded slowly, showing him that you were listening.

“You looked so fuckin’ beautiful and just - happy…….” he sighed again. “It’s uh- do you know that the two of you share the same birthday? I didn’t realize it until the other day when you mentioned yours …...three hundred and sixty five days in a year, what are the fuckin’ odds?” 

The light turned but he didn’t move, he was staring transfixed at the road - his mind somewhere far. You watched him remember her and a life that no longer existed. He always had a certain look about him when he was thinking of her. You couldn't really put it into words; he just seemed so at peace with the world….like the burden of loss wasn't weighing him down.

His hands gripped the wheel tighter “the birthday you have coming up will make you one year older than she ever got to be…. It’s like one day I woke up and twenty-four years have come and gone overnight.”

He started to choke up a little, but fought against it. “ I don’t know why it just hit me all of a sudden. I can go weeks, months, without feeling upset. Then one little thing just sets it off and everything comes rushing back at once…. and it hurts the same way it did then.”

His breathing hitched in his chest,  you could tell that he was probably on the verge of a panic attack.

You placed a hand on his leg “hey-”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That wasn’t right….. I’m not that person-”

“It’s alright-”

“No it’s not. I’m sorry if I scared you and I’m sorry that I’m talkin’ about this. I know you probably don’t want to hear it-”

“Jack” you spoke softly in an attempt to stop his spiraling. “I always want to hear about what you’re going through. No matter what it is…..your wife, she sounds amazing.”

He reached down to take your hand, squeezing it gently. 

You brushed your thumb across his knuckles. “If you ever need to talk about her you can, I hope you know that. And what you said about it all rushing back….grief is not linear. It's not something that has a start and end...instead it’s like a box with a little ball inside. Every time the ball hits the side of the box you feel upset. Like tonight-”

Your other hand reached up to tuck a little strand of hair behind his ear, while you went on… “At first the box is tiny and the ball hits the sides of it often. However as time goes on the box gets bigger. Meaning that the ball has much more space to travel until it hits the sides.”

You paused for a moment to let him follow along. “You grew up with her; she is literally woven into the fabric of your soul. You are allowed to miss her and miss her deeply. Even after all this time. It is okay.  In the same breath though, you are also allowed to be happy. I know you carry around guilt - I see it in you constantly…….  but there was nothing you could have done Jack.”

You placed a finger under his chin and turned his head to face you, “and you didn’t scare me. You just caught me off guard is all.”

“I wish I danced with you,” he said softly. 

“We’ll have plenty of time to dance, Jack.”

He looked so utterly exhausted; you dropped your hand to let him focus back on the road. “Yeah” he agreed, then lifted his foot off the break to continue on.

The open windows let wind rush through the cabin. He kept a tight hold on your hand, it was the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment.

An idea surfaced in your mind….  “I think we should include her this year. We can pick up some flowers - maybe a little toy for the baby, and have a picnic. I’ll make cupcakes and we can blow out a candle for her as well ….would that be something you want to do?”

He rubbed his eyes and nodded. 

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Thank you.”

You smiled softly “you don’t have to thank me Jack.”

#Jack Daniels x you #Whiskey x you #Agent whiskey x Reader #Agent whiskey x you #Agent whiskey fanfic #Kingsmen Fanfiction #Kingsmen Fanfic #Pedro fanfic #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Pedro Pascal Fanfiction #long live the queue

[canniballistix]

consider: Over the hills and Far Away by Led Zeppelin as a complete characterization for Dean and his Happy Ending (tm) with Cas

In heaven, you have time to learn guitar.

It was a phrase that had popped into Dean's head one day as his fingers fumbled along the frets of the acoustic he'd picked up cheap.

He didn't mean heaven-heaven. At least he didn't think so. No, this was more like when those old-time Hollywood crooners would sing about heaven.

Maybe heaven was a feeling. Maybe it was a woman. For Dean, it was the open road.

Not the road-road. The idea of a road. Like that poem: two roads diverged in a wood, and Dean Winchester could at last choose which to take. He would take the road less-traveled-- at least by a hunter's standards.

He sat on the hood of the Impala. In the sun. The full, hot, direct light of it, feeling it bake his forearms and his cheeks as he plucked away at those shuddering strings.

His fingertips were delicate. Perhaps the most delicate parts of him-- never the target of violence and scarring, never hardened to a callous. He may have had the muscle for steel string, but his fingers cracked and bled and stained the wood.

The most wonderful bit was that, when he did begin to bleed, he could quit. He could put the guitar down and heal patiently, only to pick it up again later.

He could play the notes, but not the rhythm. That was a common issue of his. Everything rolled along so easy when he played slowly, but became a great muddled mess when he tried to play at speed. This song especially had him over a barrel; most difficult right in the beginning. With quick notes, meant to sound casual and not at all technical.

If he could just get to the meat of it, it would be all strumming away.

But he could wait. He'd get this part right, and then he'd be home free.

In heaven, you have time to learn guitar.

He plucked it again. Just the first few notes, quick as he could. Some were quicker than others.

"Agh, shit," Dean muttered.

He scooted back a bit on the hood, feet swinging freely over the asphalt. He bent forward a bit, scrutinizing his fingers as they struggled to slide along the strings. They plowed through it again, hung up in the same place as always-- though it was beginning to feel more familiar.

"Dammit." Dean chuckled to himself, then tried again.

"You're getting better at that."

"Christ!" Dean jumped a bit. He'd never be used to that, as much as he tried to be.

Castiel smirked. "Good guess, but unfortunately no."

Dean returned the easygoing smile. "That's only 'cause you've never heard this song," he said, gaze rolling back down to the strings as he played it again.

Cas leaned against the car beside Dean. He, too, peered down at the neck as Dean's fingers stumbled through the notes. "I'm sorry?"

"The song," Dean said, strumming over the strings very gently. "It's sounds good 'cause you've never heard the real one."

"Of course I have," Cas said. "It was on that tape. The Zepp Tracks tape."

Dean paused the practice to sift through his memories. "God, you kept that?"

Cas smiled and looked down at his hands. "Ah, well. A boy I liked gave it to me," he said coyly. "I couldn't get rid of something like that."

"And exactly how many times did you listen to that tape?" Dean asked. He was grinning like an idiot, now, though he feigned a focus on his playing. "I'm guessing more than once or twice?"

"Enough times to recognize the opening notes of Over the Hills and Far Away," he said matter-of-factly. "Even a little slow and a little off the beat. Is that too many?"

Dean shook his head. "No, sir. Not for any of the tracks on that tape," he said. "No such thing as too many."

"Hm." He nodded. "That's what I thought, too."

Castiel listened patiently as Dean worked through it again. And again. Over and over, the notes falling all over each other like crabs in a bucket. Getting closer all the time.

It was a beautiful day. A beautiful day for playing guitar and smiling and maybe, just maybe, singing along.

In heaven, there is time to learn guitar.

"You know," Castiel said at last, shifting ever so slightly, "if you wanted to learn faster, I could heal your fingers."

"Not the point, Cas," Dean said, jolly as always.

Cas tilted his head. "Isn't the point to learn?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah. Well-- sure, I guess. But…" He ran his fingers down the neck before dropping his hand to his knee. "I mean, I think the real point is that I've got time, now."

"Hm." Cas nodded slowly.

"I'm not… God, I'm not rushing to get it all in before I die," Dean said, though his words were choked off by something between a laugh and a cry. "Waiting around for wounds to heal is a luxury, Cas. I'm gonna enjoy it."

Cas scoffed. "That sounds more than a little masochistic."

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's not, it's not. It's-- God." He lifted the guitar strap up over his head and set the thing down on the hood beside him. "Y'know who had callouses on his fingers, Cas? Johnny fuckin' Cash."

"And…" Castiel squinted. "You want to be like Johnny Cash?"

"Johnny Cash lived," Dean continued, unphased. "He's been everywhere, man-- and I wanna go everywhere, too."

"Dean, you just bragged to me yesterday about having visited a Biggerson's in every state."

"And I stand by that accomplishment," Dean said, chuckling again. "But I've done all that. I've done that stuff so many goddamn times. I've driven back and forth across this country, and I've died more times than… I dunno. Batman, probably."

Cas shook his head, but couldn't hide his smile.

"Y'know what I've never done?" Dean asked.

"What?"

"I've never learned to play guitar," Dean replied. "I've never tried to bake a pie. I've never, in all the time I've lived in that stupid library, read the Lord of the Rings-- and I've never once spent a guilt-free day in pajamas."

Cas gave Dean a sideways look. "These are high are on your to-do list, Dean?"

"Man, shut up…" Dean gave Cas a playful shove, and Cas accepted it faithfully. "You know what I'm saying. All my life, I've been one thing. And I've been it really, really well."

"That you have," Cas agreed with a bit of a nod.

"And the best part about being done is that I… I can be someone else." Dean looked down at his hands, at the unfamiliar cracks on the pads of his fingers.

Cas nodded. "I know you're talking about being a hunter," he said. "But I think that would apply to other things, as well."

Dean swiveled around to face the angel-- or maybe not-so-angel-anymore. Castiel cast a glance over his shoulder at Dean, now cross-legged on the hood of his beloved car.

Cas very subtly uncrossed his arms and rested one hand on the hood. Dean unflinchingly reached out and took it in his own.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean's fingers danced along Cas' much in the way they had leapt between the frets on his guitar. "Such as?"

Cas clucked his tongue. "Womanizer, perhaps," he suggested wryly. "Soldier. Martyr."

"And thank God for that, huh?" Dean leaned forward slightly, and pressed his forehead into the space between Castiel's shoulder blades.

They sat like this a while. Dean's fingers wormed between Castiel's, and they interlaced with practiced ease. The sun was warm on them-- enough to burn the back of Dean's neck, but he hardly noticed. Castiel was warmer than the sun, he thought.

"I was so tired, Cas," Dean whispered.

"I know."

"There were times I thought I--" He choked on the words. "But I didn't. I'm still here."

Castiel squeezed his hand gently. "I'm glad."

"I didn't think I'd be able to do it, y'know?" Dean said.

"Me neither," Cas said. "I didn't think I'd be able to, that is."

Dean lifted his head. "It's like coming home from a war, isn't it?" he said. "I read a great book about that once. Long time ago."

"Did you?"

Dean nodded, though Cas couldn't see. "I mean, I don't remember what it was called," he said. He ran his thumb over the back of Cas' hand. "But I-- I remember the guy who came home just drove around. All day, all night. Ate at drive-through restaurants and chatted up girls and listened to the radio. He didn't know what else to do with himself, y'know?"

Castiel chuckled. "Sounds familiar."

"Maybe."

Cas pulled his hand away from Dean's.

Dean leaned back a bit as Castiel turned to face him, both hands on the car's hood-- one on either side of Dean's folded legs.

They stayed here, frozen, for a very long moment. Hardly a foot between them.

"I'm gonna be okay though," Dean said at last, softly. "You know how I know?"

"How?"

"I have you," Dean said simply. "And we can be veterans of war together. You ever think about learning guitar? Or maybe banjo?"

Castiel sighed lightly. "I don't think you should read Lord of the Rings," he said.

Dean snorted. "Yeah? Why's that?"

"I don't think you'd like the ending."

"You've read it?"

Cas shrugged. "I know more about pop culture than just what you've taught me."

Dean let out a long, low whistle. "Look at the big man, over here," he teased, tugging gently on Cas' tie. "This guy knows the end of Lord of the Rings."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

Cas looked into Dean's eyes for a moment. It was a strange sort of look, like a man sizing up a show horse. It drug on for far too long, Dean thought. Far too long for Castiel to be so close.

"Cas?" Dean repeated.

"I was thinking about kissing you," Cas said.

Dean's heart caught in his throat. "Uh. That your way of asking permission or something?"

"I just figured…" Cas cleared his throat. "Well--seeing as I hadn't before--I should say something."

Dean nodded slowly. "You don't have to get all hung up on thinking about it," he said.

But, even if he had, it would have been okay.

In heaven, you have time to learn guitar.

#sorry if the spacing is weird #and also just in general i guess #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #spn fic #spn fanfic

[pastelgrungewrecker]

My Pride Goeth Before His Fall

Stand up high in the prow Noble barque I steer Steady course for the haven Hew many foe-men

{More fallout from this, mind the tags, warning for eye trauma.}

“What will you do, Whirl of Polyhex, if your son’s retaliations become more... severe? How will you feel? What will you say?”

Whirl swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling his better eye brimming with tears that dripped over the lid- dewdrops that tangled in his arctic lashes.

“I’ll tell my young’n I’m proud. I’ll tell my baby bluebird I’m so, so proud...”

The words spat in the face of victims will always be cruelest- they will always be demanding and vindictive, ordering them to be Bigger and Better than the Poor Lost Souls who Hurt Them But Not Really That Much.

It will always be wrong. But still, it will continue.

This was no different.

Quickdraw breathed deep and slow, eyes no longer able to blink doe-long lashes over flickers of summer sunshine; sunshine snuffed out by someone who’s life had been so dominated by old and outcast ideals that they took Judgement on someone they deemed unworthy solely by their birth. Their existence. 

Their family.

He answered questions with a voice level and cold and calculating to a fault- a voice that felt near robotic, digressing his pain and fear and suffering and choking down the feeling of being a spectacle...

They asked him to prove his cybernetic eyes were real, he did not cry as he held his eyelids wide and slid one free- as it was taken by a lawyer as a man in gold watched in burning horror.

He did not look at the cameras all around the courtroom. He did not look at his selected peer with his destroyed hand and rage-twisted scowl. He did not feed the vindication of his audience, he did not drink down their shame as he outlined the pain and cruelty he had lived so long through.

“I retaliated as any scared little brother would.”, he said quietly, “My sister had been shot, had been beaten. They were hurting my big sister like they wanted to hurt me for so long. I had to make it stop, in that moment. In that exact second, all I wanted was for them to stop. To let me help her. To let me try to keep my big sister with us.”

“And then?”

“And then, when my sister recovered, they wanted to hurt my little sisters. My little sisters who’d... never done anything to them. They held Chrona and sliced her cheek. They restrained Dani, and Kiki.”

“They sliced your sister’s cheek? So you knew the defendant had a knife?”

“Yes.”

“And still you aggravated them?”

“They gave me a choice, did he tell you that?”, asked Quickdraw, his circuitboard eyes drilling holes through the sleaze and grease coating the loaded question, “It was either they hurt my sisters... or me. I still remember what he said, exactly.”

“A-ah. And can you say for those present...?”

“You want us to let her GO? Alright, then we wanna make a deal. You won’t let us erase the Conspawn? You want us to leave your bastard sisters alone? Then you gotta pay up Quickdraw.”, he recited, “ You pay the piper and the kiddies go home free.”

“Is that so- can you back that up with evidence?”

“Yes, the security footage that was shown yesterday also includes audio, and he can be heard clearly saying it.”

A patronizing stare before the lawyer chuckled to himself, “I find that hard to believe-”

“Then play it.”

Silence.

Quickdraw’s eyebrows tilted down- just a degree, just enough, “If it is so hard to believe, then play it. I insist sir.”

Quickdraw watched the color rise in his oppositions face before they spat demands, as the judge pursed their lips and nodded. As the footage rolled and Quickdraw refused to flinch at the sounds of gravel and rattling fences.

You want us to let her GO...

The lawyer’s face darkened in anger. He stomped to the mockingbird cage of the stand and slammed his hands onto the wood, staring between Quickdraw’s unnerving eyes.

“Tell me, sir. Is it fun to watch?”, he asked in a hiss, a glimpse of Whirl’s manic sneer visible, “Does it make you all warm and tingly, watching them rip my face open after threatening the only people I’ll ever care about?”

“Witness dismissed.”

The judge nodded as Quickdraw rose and stepped away- His growing hair tied in a braid and swaying slowly in time like the serpent trying to tempt a Messiah.

Whirl watched, pain in his face as his chest clenched like a fist closed around each lung and twisted. When his name was called, summoning him to the stand his son had already haunted, he walked like he was set for the gallows.

He sat uncomfortably, frame and soul and grief too large for the box the law settled him in in this sideshow trial.

He listened to his sins read aloud, the sneer curling so many faces except the ones that mattered. He hung his head, his own braid overlong like the anchorchain of old ships in legends forgotten by everyone except those who sang the old songs.

He knew this tactic. He knew they wanted him angry and loud and brash and cruel. He knew they wanted to use his mistakes as the ink to sign away his son’s soul.

He felt the fire that always burned in his chest cavity snuff out, tendrils of smoke leaking up and up and out through his mouth to curl into words laced in the mist of tears cried at midnight into a bottle he hid between the headboard and the wall before Brainstorm woke up.

“What will you do, Whirl of Polyhex, if your son’s retaliations become more... severe? How will you feel? What will you say?”, asked the lawyer, pondscum clinging to the words.

Whirl swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling his better eye brimming with tears that dripped over the lid- dewdrops that tangled in his arctic lashes.

“I’ll tell my young’n I’m proud. I’ll tell my baby bluebird I’m so, so proud...”

“Pride, in violence?”

“He’s... He’s been through hell, my poor li’l dino nugget.”, said Whirl, choking on his words and unable to blink away traitorous tears, “He’s seen... He’s seen too damn much. Too much I couldn’t save him from and my GOD did I try to save him...”

The lawyer faltered, seeing the liquid stardust running down both of Whirl’s cheeks now.

“He’s seen all his parents fall the hell apart- and thank God we had Frogyy, I mean. Mimi. She kept alla us goin’, kept my babies safe during that mutiny on the Lost Light.”

Those present shifted uncomfortably.

“And then we made it here- and it was s’posed to be safe, sir.”

The lawyer flinched, the judge leaned to the side to gently rest a hand on Whirl’s shoulder.

“Take a deep breath, Mister Whirl- I understand this is hard to talk of. Take your time.”

A shaking breath, “I was a fuckin’ Wrecker- cream o’the crop and all. I had killcounts and I had mission successes and I had downright MURDER under my belt and I... I helped make. I helped make Quickdraw. QD. My li’l bluebird- me ‘n my honeybee made that! And Quickdraw is...”

Whirl wiped his face with a metal hand, “Quickdraw is ev’rything I thought I fuckin’ lost, back when they took my hands... my eye.”

He looked to the lawyer, “And then someboys decided that my li’l bluebird’s wings had to be clipped. They took his eyes cause his big sister’s Papa was a Con once upon a time. Cause her daddy suffered and burned down and built back up and she used that strength to stand tall and help her siblings do that too.”

The lawyer’s face was mottled with anger and fear.

“And you’re gonna stand here, in front’f your God and your Country and your HONOR... And ask me what I’m gonna tell him when he grows into his talons and defends the nest? I’m gonna tell him I’m proud, sir. I’m gonna look at him and tell him I’m proud that he stayed soft an’ loving in all the ways I couldn’t. And I’m gonna tell him I’m proud that he knows when to fly away and call the flock and I’m proud he knows when to stand and flare his claws and fight back.”

“Don’t you-”

“Counsel, I think that is quite enough.”, said the judge flatly, “So far, the past three days have been nothing but you desperately trying to say that a boy, when faced with violence, was wrong in defending himself and you should be ASHAMED of your behavior in this court!”

The silence was heavy and thick.

“You have proven nothing except, time and time again, that the attack on this family was mindless vigilante cruelty! There is no justification for these actions and all present know it. This... constant tearing of stitches is now over, Counsel, and the jury will now be dismissed to decide the outcome.”

The slam of a gavel, the rustle of people rising to their feet.

Whirl’s head hung down, words and images swimming round and round like dying minnows in polluted lakes before someone reached in to hold his steel hands tight.

He raised his head, expecting Brainstorm or Perceptor or even Ratchet or Cyclonus.

Xaaron looked down at him, tattoos on his chin warping from the way his lips trembled.

“I... I am sorry, Whirl.”, he whispered, “I am sorry for my assumptions- about you, about the family, about everyone. I... I simply did not understand. I did not try.”

Whirl blinked, slowly.

“I can see, now, that my... my grandson, your. Your bluebird. Is a survivor. As his parents are, as. As I once was. I spent so long in misery that I forgot that it loves company- but often mistakes it for competition. You have born much, and you have fought to never let it touch him, and something in you has broken from this.”

“I tried to keep my fam’ly safe, Mister Xaaron. And I fucked it up.”

“No. No you did not. You did all that you could, with all that you had- when those who could have helped turned their back upon you.”

Whirl rose from his seat, his prosthetic hand and Xaaron’s clenched together in some kind of unity, of steadying.

He stepped down from the stand for Xaaron to stand in front of him, and bow his own head.

“I am sorry for letting my own foolishness compound this family’s grief, and pain. But I want, more than anything, to make amends.”

Whirl swallowed, another lump in his throat made of baby’s breath and grave lilies as he felt Brainstorm seem to appear at his side.

“Then come visit.”, said the scientist quietly, “Come visit, get to know them, us. Without all... this interrogation. Come learn who Quickdraw is, aside from our names and the kid’s pain. Please.”

Xaaron’s head rose, and he nodded, “I will. Once the verdict is delivered, when you all go home I.. I will come and. And visit.”

Mimi stood by Quickdraw, watching the trio converse. Mimi’s arm went around her taller but younger brother’s birdcage ribs, and she hugged him gently.

“It’s gonna be alright, pigeon.”

“Why d’you always call me pigeon?”, he huffed.

“Cause you’re actually a dove, Quickdraw, you just don’t recognize it yet.”

#pastelwrites #humanformers #fankids #crim is going to Destwoy Me UwU #mentions of eye trauma #cybernetic prosthetic fuckery

[lifebeginsbyleaving]

A Pirate Walked Into A Bar...

This is for @sterek-bingo I didn’t have time to completely finish it, but all tags are included. This is almost 25k words, so make sure you got the time lol. Anyway I hope you like it! I’m so excited to finish this, so my hope is to have it completely done by the end of june.

***************************************

"Shit, shit, fuck, FUCK!" Stiles vaulted over the boxes blocking the alley way. His eyes scanned the path as fast as they could, looking for any possible escape. His breath was coming out in harsh waves. His legs were stinging.

"You there! Stop!" The voice came from closer than he would've liked. It was followed by the clatter of people giving chase.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking ell." He was too far from the sea, and with the way he was running he had no idea if he was getting closer or farther away. Stiles darted down another alley way, this one much narrower and more cluttered with dirt and boxes. It was like the walls were slowly closing in and soon he would have no where else to run.

The clattering was getting closer, but they were still out of sight as Stiles kept weaving down different paths.

There was a crossroads up ahead. If Stiles pushed fast enough he could get through the crossroad and down the next alley fast enough that they would have to split up.

He darted out into the road just as a cart came barreling through. It knocked him off his feet. God bless the fuckin queen, that hurt his hip! As he tried to get up he looked around. A big red sign posted at the top of one of the buildings drew his eyes.

He knew where he was.

"Stop that pirate!" A voice boomed from directly behind him. The few people who were around all turned their eyes to him. The people just looked on, not even caring if he was caught.

Stiles scrambled up and grabbed his hat. As he ran to his new charted path, he kicked the wagon's gate down and apples spilled all over the road. He didn't even slow his pace as he leaned down to grab an apple. He took a bite and turned around still moving. He smiled around a bite of apple before he hurled the rest right at the crown's guard leading the charge. He turned back around, not even seeing if it hit him. The answering annoyed, 'Stiles!' was enough.

He took off, once again laughing. He could hear the clatter of at least two guards slipping on apples as the rest followed him again.

Stiles had never been so grateful for being knocked on his ass. He would've never seen that sign if he wasn't. All he needed, all any self respecting pirate, would need is just one point. One point to let them know where they are, to find out where they need to go. And Stiles' Northstar was the, 'Shoddy shirt and chantey shanty,' big red sign with bold letters and a half naked lady on it.

They were within sight so he needed to lose them first. He sped seemingly at random through alleys and in and out of houses and businesses that were most welcoming at his unexpected and late polite visit.

Stiles vaulted a dinner table.

"Get the fuck out! Thief! Guards! There's a thief in my house!"

"Pirate!" Stiles called over his shoulder as he burst out the back door with huffing breath.

They were greatly slowed down by having to clatter after him through a house and finally they could still hear him, but not see him.

Stiles looped back and finally started towards where he wanted to go. He could taste the salt water and feel the sea calling to him behind him, but he could not go that way. He would never make it through the dense quarter at this time. Either someone or one of the many crown's guard would stop him. He could barely hear the thud of boots over the harsh panting of his breath, but he still felt as if they were on his heels nonetheless. He could tell he was getting tired, but he needed to push on.

Just as he was turning a guard came crashing into the wall right behind him.

"Oh fuck."

Two of the guards must've tried to get around him, but failed. They didn't make it in front of him, but they were right at his back.

If this didn't work exactly he was screwed.

He took two quick turns in succession and finally he was close.

He shot down the alley to the left and quickly concealed himself in an alcove.

When they ran past he quickly and as quietly as he could, made it to the alley now on his left, which he would've gone straight into before his misdirect.

There was a man blocking the path up ahead, emptying a barrel into a trash bin. He could hear them turning around and shouting at each other that he went back. The man turned to put the trash bin back inside the door he was keeping open showing a warm glowing room. Stiles didn't slow his pace as he plowed right towards the man. He was closing the bin when Stiles barreled into his chest and grabbed his shirt and the door behind the man. Stiles quickly went backwards into the lit room, hauling the man along with him by his shirt and tugging the door right behind them. The door latched and there was a thud as Stiles pressed the man against the door and followed his body with his own.

"Don't make a sound." The man's eyes were wide with confusion, but as the boots and yells went cluncking by he seemed content to just hold his breath.

Stiles tried to slow and quiet his own breath as he pressed closer to the man trying to stay out of the windows view as they went by.

Stiles counted the sets of footfalls as they went by, and when the final pair cleared he let out a heavy breath.

"Well, that's one way to finish your day." Stiles let out a laugh.

The man was still pressed against the door like they were about to burst through it. Stiles could hear muffled movement out in the hall.

"What the fuck Stiles!"

"Oh calm down. I'm only in trouble if they catch me, sourwolf."

FIVE MONTHS AGO

Derek's shoulders ached and his eyelids begged to close, but he had to finish carting the heavy barrels before he could go to sleep. His family could no longer afford to rent the cart and steed they normally did to haul the weeks brews from their distillery to their bar. With the raging war outside their lands laying waste to their country, and the war inside it barely held back by the tentative so called peace and the people poorer than they had seen in decades, no one could afford anything.

If anyone saw a man carting a barrel on each shoulder it would certainly give him away, so he had to finish under the cover of dusk. It was very late but with his bed calling him like a siren's song, he finished earlier than normal. He was about to go up the steps to where his family slept above the bar, when he realized there weren't as many heartbeats as there should've been. That was odd. Usually everyone was in bed by now.

He slowly crept back down and tried to listen, but he could only see the light coming from the room in the back of the bar that functioned as his mother's office. He slowly opened the window he knew wouldn't make a sound and tried to pick up something.

"-rate we won't make it three months!" That was Laura's voice, she sounded stressed and upset.

"Be that as it may, we need actual solutions, not just more problems." That was his mother's voice calming and commanding, but no less stressed which worried him. His mother didn't get stressed.

"I've already told you what we need to do!"

"No. I won't do that. You know that."

"Mother! Please just consider it. The pirates make enough plundering the seas, but now they're taking our livelihood with their cheap smuggled moonshine! We could at least ask them to stop. Look, I know that they do some good keeping the crown's guard occupied and when they help, but this is our survival we're talking about! If we're to remain in this city we have to consider our options."

He could hear his mother sigh as though there was a weight on her chest he never knew was there. "Laura, you'll make a great alpha one day, but you must consider grander things than just your pack if you're ever going to be more than that."

More than an alpha? What was she talking about?

"What would you have me do anyway? We don't know all of the pirates. Would we talk to the pirates? Reason with them? Run them out of town? Which could expose us, and then where would we be? Put to death."

His mother seemed to soften her face. "I know you want to fix this, but we can't. We must wait. He will come, I'm sure of it. We have to wait here for him and I know that's not the answer you want, but it's the only one I have."

Who was he? Who would come?

His dad which had only been a heartbeat he could hear on the other side of the room came closer and wrapped Laura in his arms. "We'll be okay little wolf. Your mother has a plan."

He could hear Laura's heartbeat relax, but the worried look his parents shared while Laura's head was tucked into his shoulder had his beating faster.

His mother came over and rested all of their heads together so they could focus on each others heartbeats and calm down.

Just as they had gotten settled, his mother's head shot up and her eyes glowed directly at him. "Derek?"

They saw him now and he didn't want to pretend like he hadn't heard it anyway.

He opened the door and walked in. "So everything you said about the war being the reason we are going out of business is a lie? It's really filthy pirates and their bootleg pisswater they call liquor?!"

"Derek!"

He was so angry he didn't even feel sorry for his outburst. "What? What mom, you want me to calm down about my family about to lose their home and business because of some no good thieves that like to think they're important because they have a boat and get away with it! They're the scum of the seas!"

Laura turned to him. "You sound like Captain Whittemore."

That stopped the boiling of his blood with what felt like a slap. He hadn't realized he had almost directly quoted the man that would like nothing more than to skin his entire family alive.

"I-I um-"

"You, need to calm down." His mother flashed her eyes at him and he felt the shame of his outburst. It wasn't their fault and he finally realized they were as scared as he was.

His father started to lead him upstairs. "They'll figure it out son. Don't worry about it." His father had no eyes to flash at him, but he felt it as a command anyway.

When they made it upstairs his dad checked the girls' room. He could see his cousin Lily in bed, but Laura's was predictably empty.

His father followed him to his room and checked for Thomas, who was of course curled up in his bed instead of his own. With them all accounted for he gave Derek a hug and bid him goodnight.

His muscles protested even moving his small sleeping brother.

His eyes opened wide, but seeing Derek he calmed. "What took you so long?"

Derek let out a small laugh. "I'd like to see you haul all of those barrels champ."

Thomas started to crawl out of his bed.

"You can stay."

Thomas looked at him confused and with his bed head he looked adorable. "You usually kick me out."

"That's because you actually kick me in the neck. But you can stay tonight."

Thomas didn't think twice. He crawled right back into the middle of the bed and Derek didn't have it in him to care. He got changed into his sleep clothes and gently moved a yawning Thomas over. He protectively curled around him and got settled in.

A small sleepy voice spoke. "Are you letting me stay because of whatever has mom, dad, and Laura so worried?"

Thomas had none of the enhanced senses that his siblings and cousin had, but he always could sense things. In some ways he was more in tune with things than any of them. "No I'm letting you stay so the kraken under your bed doesn't eat you." He smiled when Thomas turned to him to give him a flat look. "And there's nothing to worry about." He put an arm around Thomas and pulled him as close as he could. "Go to sleep Tommy."

Thomas let out a yawn and soon his heartbeat was slowed.

He was still seething with the new found enemy, at finally having a channel for his anger, but seeing Thomas sleeping peacefully he calmed. Derek placed a kiss on his forehead and spoke once more before letting his brothers heartbeat lull him to sleep. "We'll protect you."

---

Derek awoke the next morning to a forceful pain in his neck. He shot up with claws and glowing eyes. He looked around wildly. Once he new everything was okay he flopped back down and pulled a pillow on top of his face with clawless fingers.

The sound was muffled, but no less frustrated, "Ughgshghh omas at urt!"

Derek moved the pillow to see Thomas was still sound asleep with his head on the opposite side of the bed and his foot close to Derek's face. Derek shoved it off the bed and he didn't even stir. Derek got up with a huff and got changed. He headed downstairs to start his work.

He kissed his mother's head where she was bent over her desk. When she looked up at him his head tilted towards the floor. She brought her wrist up and rubbed it against his neck. Once he looked up she wrapped her hand around the side of his neck and gently stroked his jaw. "Don't worry. We will handle it."

Derek opened his mouth to protest, but decided not to. "Okay."

She smiled and pulled his head down to kiss his forehead. "Good. Now go help your sister so she can head to the distillery."

In the face of all their budget cutting Laura took the brunt of the distillery work. She only helped set up the bar in the mornings while his mother sorted paperwork. Once she went to the distillery the bar was managed by Derek till the end of work rush and then his mother helped. His father was a teacher, but was recently let go so if he didn't have an odd job or two he helped out when he wasn't giving the younger two kids lessons.

They were all constantly working nowadays, just to barely make ends meet. Derek could remember even just a couple months ago when things were good, but there was supposedly some big peace meeting in a couple months that had tensions rising and the people preparing for an all out war. As the months dragged on things got tighter and tighter. Now, he just wished the noose closing around their necks was on the filthy pirates stealing their lively hood. But Derek had to put that all away to get though the day, it was much too heavy for this early.

The mornings were always slow. There was nothing really to do except get set up for the day. Pretty soon Laura was leaving him in charge of the two barflies, Kevin and Mark, that seemingly never left the place. It was slow up until it wasn't. The lunch rush came like it always did, all at once. Even though it wasn't as much as it had always been, Derek was busy. It wasn't until two that he finally felt like he wasn't rushed off his feet.

He was just pouring a refill for someone as the bar doors slammed open. All eyes in the bar turned to the stranger in the entryway as he quickly closed the doors behind him. He was out of breath, but acting like he wasn't. After a pause as he surveyed the room, he started to saunter towards the bar, but as shouting crown's guard walked past he sat down with a clatter at an occupied table. His back was to the door as he slung an arm around the man sitting there.

"Hi, how ya doing?"

The man sneered and started to pull away. The stranger pulled out a coin and flicked it onto the table in front of the man with his thumb. "Have a drink on me pal." The coin was worth at least three drinks and the man swept it up with a smile.

The man was pleased with his presence then, and tried to get him to stay, but as soon as the shouting stopped he resumed his path towards the bar. "Sorry, I can't stay friend."

He reached the bar and knocked on it as if Derek wasn't already looking at him. "Three things call me: the sea, rum,-" He reached up to point towards a middle shelf rum. "And f-"

Derek caught his wrist before he could pull it back down. "You're a pirate." Derek said the word with a sneer as he looked down at the brand.

The stranger quickly schooled his startled expression. "Nonsense. The P stands for pretty, my face was such a distraction Captain Jackson Whittemore had to brand it into my skin. I am a fine upstanding citizen of this country just like you all. God bless the rightful queen." He lifted his other hand like he was toasting the drink he did not possess yet.

"So I could just call those guards back here?"

The stranger tutted like he was speaking to a child. "Now is that any way to treat a paying customer?"

Derek flung the arm that had still been firmly in his grip. "Your money is no good here." He spit his next word out like vitriol. "Pirate."

That only made the stranger smirk with a fire like look in his eyes. "Have I bed your wife? You seem to be very angry with someone you don't know."

Derek grit his teeth.

"No that's not it. Perhaps I refused to bed you?"

Derek's veins burned as did his cheeks. The other patrons seemed to chuckle at the barb, finally turning back to their drinks.

"No, that's not it either." The stranger leaned over the bar into his space to speak softly. "I wouldn't have refused." He tossed a suggestive wink and as he leaned back his eyes raked up and down Derek in a way that made him feel naked.

"Maybe I bed your sister."

Derek closed his eyes because he knew they would bleed blue. He quickly clenched his claws into his fists, hoping the stranger didn't see them.

"Get out before I make you." Derek snarled around teeth. This was one of the filthy people taking his family's business and he came to flaunt it in his face with jokes. Derek would rip his throat out with his teeth if it wouldn't put his family in more danger.

"Hm, no. I think we can come to an agreement. I-"

"I will call the guards back here." Derek could finally open his eyes and it was to a smile that had no right to be that disarming or that smug.

"You see, I don't think you will." The stranger gave a meaningful look down at his hands and when Derek looked he then tapped on the bar before scrapping against it with his fingernails. "I think you're about to pour me a drink."

Derek was just about to pull him into the back alley to beat that smirk right off his face when the pirate lifted a heavy coin purse to the bar. As soon as it clanked down the ties loosened enough to see in. It was enough gold coins for a third of their expenses for the entire month.

"I think you're going to pour me a house rum while taking my coin. Because between me and you, I think you'd rather have a filthy pirate drink here than have everyone you know brought before the Captain."

Derek couldn't help the fear that filled his chest as he said that. Every single were brought before the Captain was never seen again. Well, sometimes there would be a piece of jewelry or a blood stained article of clothing given to the uninvolved human family members if it was something they didn't know about. But if they had so much as a hint, they were gone too. The Captain was known for killing anyone who was even suspected of being in league with supernaturals. He was called the Kanima Captain, because almost like a reptile, he left no trace of people, seemingly swallowing entire families whole. Derek only had a moment to consider as the crown's guard filed back past.

The pirate seemed to give him an amused look like he didn't care if Derek called them in here. Like he would be just as happy running away.

"Fine." Derek snarled back swiping the coin purse.

The pirate smiled and threw down some more coins from a pocket. "And another round for the tavern filled with friends I've made." The pirate looked back to see if his bribe would work and the people cheered and tipped their glasses up in appreciation.

Derek poured his drink closer to the top than he normally would if not to just keep him from speaking that much longer.

As he turned back, the pirate was already mid story with Mark, who could barely keep his head up. The pirate must've taken the wobble his head does towards the bar as a nod of encouragement. He turned with sharp eyes to Derek who was wearing the most malicious look he had.

The pirate's lips only stopped moving once the glass was being tilted back and resumed as soon as it was empty.

Derek didn't move his spiteful stare away from the pirate, he knew better than to take your eyes off a thief.

The pirate finished his story and turned back to Derek. "You know if you look at me any more intensely I'll assume you want something. We already know about your scorn for pirates and their supposed thievery, so you must not want me to steal something for you. I already gave you money. I suppose there is one more thing I'm famous for." The pirate gave him a lecherous grin.

"The only thing I want from you, pirate, is for you to get out of my bar."

"Well, I think one drink is much too soon for you to take me back to your place. I mean, even if you were to try to take advantage of me, one drink is not enough to get me disoriented. I am a pirate after all." The pirate scrunched his nose mockingly as he said pirate.

"Oh I'm sure there isn't enough rum in the world to make you act even more as indecent and appalling as you do sober."

He smirked at Derek. "Not nearly."

Derek rolled his eyes and continued on with his job. He couldn't wait for the pirate to leave. As luck would have it, he just tossed down way too many coins and ordered himself another round.

Derek dutifully poured it.

Derek was on the other side of the bar pouring a drink when Thomas came down. The wolf inside him panicked. He wanted to be in between his pack and the pirate that seemed nothing but trouble.

"Tommy aren't you in the middle of lessons with Dad?"

Thomas shrugged. "I was hungry. He told me to ask you for something."

Derek seemed frazzled. "Right okay, there should be some dried meat over there. Grab it and go back upstairs." Derek tried to finish with the group, but they kept asking him questions.

"I can't find it."

Derek was about to huff at him to look with his eyes when he remembered Laura grabbed the snack on her way out. "Okay sorry bud, I didn't get time to pick up anything else. Just giv-"

"Here."

Derek stiffened at the voice. He turned to see the pirate washing an apple with his soft flowy shirt. He held it out to Thomas.

Derek put the pitcher down and moved towards them quickly. "Tommy don't take that."

Thomas seemed to look at the pirate appraisingly. He took the apple and smelled it.

"Tommy!"

"What? It's just an apple." He took a bite and Derek felt his heart fall out. He rushed the rest of the way to Thomas.

"What did I say? Huh! I told you not to take it!" All he could smell was the sweet scent of fruit, but there were many scentless poisons. He went to snatch it out of his hands, but Thomas moved it and stuck out his tongue.

"Easy friend. I did not mean to offend you. He seemed hungry."

Derek turned turned to the pirate and snarled in his face. "Do not, call me friend!"

The pirate held up his hands, and Derek wanted nothing more than to just rip them from his body. Something about this man irritated him so much. Just the way he looked got under his skin.

"Whoa, you're scaring me." Thomas' eyes looked shiny. "Did I do something wrong?" Thomas' voice went small as he looked at the pirate. "Is he a bad man?"

The look on the pirate's face looked totally foreign to anything Derek thought it could look like.

"No, I'm not. I just said some rude things to your brother. He made me feel like I was wrong just because of what I am, so I said some things I shouldn't have. I am sorry for what I said though... Well. most of it. Some of it. Do you think your brother will forgive me for what I am and what I said?" The pirate didn't take his eyes off Thomas and it made his wolf bristle at how earnest he was looking at his brother. Like he actually cared what he said.

Thomas looked confused. "That doesn't sound like Derek. He would never hate anybody for what they are. Just who they choose to be. He can seem kinda mean sometimes though. But he's not. He even let me sleep in his bed last night even though I always kick him!"

Derek's cheeks flamed once again.

Stiles glanced up at him. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. So I'm sure he will forgive you for what you said. Well, as long as you didn't say anything about his family." Thomas laughed. "He once gave Louis, the butcher's son, a knuckle sandwich for saying Laura couldn't do better than him."

"Well, what if I tried real hard, even if I did that, would he forgive me?"

He seemed to consider. "I think so. Derek's the best big brother ever. He never stays mad at me." Thomas looked up at him so adoringly his heart almost melted.

"Well then, I guess I should apologize."

Derek was brought away from Thomas to look at the pirate. "No need. Pirate."

Thomas' eyes went wide. "You're a pirate?" He spoke in a hushed awed tone.

He booped his nose. "Sure am, kiddo."

"Is the kraken real?" Thomas asked in a rush.

The pirate laughed and leaned down from his bar stool after glancing around to see if anyone was looking. He whispered into his ear. "She sure is, but between me and you, she's a total sweetheart."

Derek put an arm on the pirate's shoulder to pull him back. "Tommy, go finish your work."

"But Derek-"

"Thomas." Derek spoke with a commanding voice.

"Ugh fine." Thomas turned to the pirate before leaving. "What's your name?"

"Well, your brother just calls me pirate, but my name is Stiles."

Thomas' face scrunched up as Derek spoke, "What the hell is a Stiles?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "What's your name kid?"

Thomas beamed before holding out his hand. "My name is Thomas, but Derek calls me Tommy."

Stiles smiled. "Should I call you Tommy?"

Derek moved in between them and put his hand on the bar. "You shouldn't call him anything."

Thomas wedged underneath Derek's arm. "You should call me Thomas." Derek had an annoyed scowl on his face.

"And you can call my brother D-" Thomas' eyes widened slightly and Derek's arm tightened around him. "Miguel. You can call him Miguel."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Miguel?"

Derek tightened the arm around him as he spoke with clenched teeth. "Miguel."

"I can't breathe, you meanie. Let me go." Thomas landed a boney elbow right between his ribs and as soon as he doubled over he scurried back up the steps.

As Derek was regaining his breath he realized how close he had gotten to the pirate. He took two steps back.

"Relax. I only bite if you make me." His gleaming teeth somehow seemed more threatening than half the wolves he's met.

"Finish your drink and then leave. I'm not asking."

Stiles swallowed it all down then stood. "Well, I'm not one to overstay my welcome."

"You did that the moment you stepped foot in here."

Stiles let out a laugh. "Man, what do you have against pirates?"

"You are dirty thieves that don't think about how you hurt anyone else. You don't care about anyone and no one cares about you."

The pirate slapped his hand down on the bar. "You know it's bigots like you who don't think to even try to understand someone before going right to judging. I would think you would know better, but apparently not. You know, not all pirates are just the trash that this society throws out to the seas, sometimes we leave because we know this society is the trash and needs to be fixed. I don't take down the little fishing boats trying to make a living. I take down the royal ships so laden with treasures they've stolen from other lands just because they have less firepower! I take down ships with enough money to help the kingdom, but the Argents would rather hoard it for power!"

Derek took his arm harshly. "If you're going to flaunt that you're a pirate a few drinks might make them forget, but if you want to talk about just who you steal from I'd lower your voice. Most don't give a damn, but some care for the Argents."

The pirate still had rage in his eyes as he looked at the attention he had grabbed, but he nodded at Derek and stormed through the doors.

Derek's day passed like all of the ones before and soon enough he was tossing out the days trash and then getting ready for bed for it to all start over again tomorrow.

He kissed Thomas on the head and crawled into bed.

"Psst. Derek."

Derek opened his eyes. "Yes Tommy?"

"We met a pirate today!"

Derek couldn't help the churning in his stomach at Thomas' delighted tone. "We did."

He heard rustling. "Don't sound like that Derek. We met a pirate! You love pirates!"

Derek swiveled his head to look at where Thomas was sitting up in bed. "I do not!"

"You do too. You always tell me stories about awesome pirates!"

"That's different."

"How?"

Derek opened his mouth before he found something he could say. "Those pirates are fake."

"So?"

"Well, they don't actually steal from people."

"Robin hood is fake, but if someone actually stole from rich people to give to the poor people he would be good."

"That's not the same thing."

"Why?"

It infuriated Derek when he did that. Used one word answers to completely derail what Derek said. "Because. Okay. Just because."

"But why?"

Derek turned to groan in his pillow. "Because, Stiles is a filthy pirate that steals okay. Now go to bed."

"I'm not tired. I want a story about pirates." Derek knew he did that just to press the issue.

"Tommy go to sleep before I smother you with my pillow."

He heard a huff and Thomas angrily turning towards the wall and shoving around his blankets.

Derek could practically see the pouty lip. He closed his eyes and sighed. "There once was a pirate, he was a bad pirate. He got put in jail and everyone celebrated at the bar. The end."

"That's the worst story you've ever told." Derek could hear the smile in his voice just like the one he was wearing.

"Tomorrow night's will be better. Get some sleep. I love you Tommy."

Thomas yawned. "I love you too Derek."

For once Derek was not awoken by Thomas crawling into his bed or nightmares. He was awoken by a crash in the alley. The alley that was right below their window. Derek scrambled out of bed shoving the blankets away and snagging a shirt as he went towards the hall. He walked out the hall and was met with glowing red eyes in the darkness of the room across the hall. The glowing gave way to darkness and his mother stepped into the faintly lit hallway.

"Did you hear it?"

"It did not sound big. Are you sure you closed the bin? Those raccoons are probably back. Go check Derek."

They had been plagued by the pesky vermin since Lily had left food out for them for a week and now no matter what they would not leave. Derek nodded at his mother and headed down the stairs and he grabbed a broom before going through the back door.

Derek let out a sigh as he closed the door behind himself.

When he turned around the silhouette of a man startled him into dropping the broom and growing claws and fangs. The flash of his eyes brought clear sight of someone he dreaded to see.

"Man you are the worst secret werewolf ever. That's twice now. If the crown's guard weren't such incompetent imbeciles I would say you'd have a problem."

Derek quickly shifted back. Maybe he would get a chance to beat him up in the back alley. "Say it a bit louder why don't you?!" Derek hissed out.

Stiles lifted a challenging eyebrow. "Man you really are the wor-" Stiles' lifted voice was quickly cut off by a hand over his mouth. A hand that had been across the alley, not but a moment ago. Derek's body was close enough to be threatening, but not enough to be squishing Stiles' bag in-between them. Derek's eyes made him look like he was about to tear Stiles to shreds as the hand gripped Stiles' mouth in a vice.

Stiles licked it.

"Augh gross! What are you, a child?"

Stiles stuck out his tongue. "Well then, you shouldn't cover my mouth. I need it for things." Stiles made a suggestive face at him.

"I don't want anymore filthy pirate on me, thank you."

The suggestive nature was wiped away by irritation. "Alright then. I believe that brings this conversation to an end then. If you would please excuse me, I have some business to attend to." Stiles did a mock bow. When he leaned back up he made a gesture like he was waiting for Derek to leave.

Derek had unimpressed eyebrows and petulantly crossed his arms. "I'm not moving until you leave my alley."

"This isn't your alley."

Derek's eyebrows taunted him and he adjusted so he stood a little taller. "That's my family's bar and we live right above it, I think it's safe to say this is my alley."

Stiles' eyes flickered up to above the bar and Derek inwardly cursed himself for giving out that piece of sensitive information. He didn't know what it was about the pirate, but he disarmed him while making him want nothing more than to just press his body against the wall and use his teeth on the man. "Not that it's any of your business pirate."

Stiles smiled. It seemed he was getting used to the sneer. That made Derek's blood boil.

"No, but it is good to know." Stiles chuckled. "If I ever need to find you, I'll know where to look."

Derek's face must've betrayed what he was thinking, because instantly Stiles' hand was no longer gripping the light brown satchel he had slung over his body and instead was clutching his arm.

"I mean you no harm." If Derek didn't know that he was dishonest for a living he'd swear he'd never seen a more honest man than he did in the face before him. "No matter what I said in the bar, I would never, and I mean never, put your family in harms way just because of who you are." Stiles' eyes were leaking sincerity and Derek found his shoulders slumping down in a calm relief he hadn't felt in months. It was dizzying how quickly the mood and conversation had changed.

Derek caught up to himself after a few moments of staring right into his eyes. Derek nodded minutely and stepped back while brushing off his hand. Derek had never been accepted for who he was entirely, ever, by anyone outside of his family. His family had to be constantly vigilant, never letting anyone too close. He felt flayed raw and his insides were a mess of not knowing what to do or how to feel. He had become so used to hiding who he was, never letting anyone in, and here was this pirate sauntering into his life when he should've been running. Or maybe Derek should've been the one that ran, but somehow he felt transfixed. Either way right now he had no idea what he should be doing, but he knew even if he wanted to, running would be the last thing he did. Even if he had no idea why.

Thomas hadn't been entirely wrong, though. He did like pirates, but that was before he found out that pirates were the ones stealing his family's business. Had been the reason for months of worry and barely scraping by. Months of Lily and Thomas no longer getting the cakes he used to buy them from the corner bakery, or the joy they brought. Months of Laura having to do the jobs they could no longer afford to pay anyone else to do. Months of his mom in her office making sure they didn't spend a single gold coin too much. Months of his dad trying to pick up odd jobs that had his bones creaking in a way that never failed to remind them how human he really was. They had owned New Haven for as long as Derek could remember. He couldn't lose it. He wouldn't. Not to the likes of this pirate.

And now that he had somewhere to focus all of the anger, that seemed to be more of a part of his heart than the blood pumping through it, he wouldn't let that go. Even still, just for this moment all of what had been suffocating him seemed to vanish to be replaced by desperation. It had been so long since he had felt something that deep other than anger. He almost forgot he could feel other ways. He still felt for his family of course, but the rage was always there. There were always flames crawling up his throat and licking the back of his brain. Now it was like cold ocean water was dumped down his back.

He nodded again. No matter how earnest Stiles seemed, Derek felt like he had to convince him. "We don't bother anyone. They would take the kids. He's only eight, she's nine. They don't deserve that. We aren't monsters, we ar-" Derek could tell he was getting himself worked up.

"Hey hey, I know. I know. Stupid heartless people that are afraid are the only ones who think that you are. You don't deserve any of the shit the Argent's rule has brought upon you. No supernatural being does."

Nobody ever disrespected the Argents like that. They grumbled and didn't care about them, but no one voiced their opinions like that. But maybe that was the plus of being a pirate. It made him wonder why the venom in Stiles' eyes was there. Why did he hate them so much? It seemed personal to him. Derek discretely took a breath in through his nose. Surely he wouldn't have missed it if Stiles was a were.

"I'm not a shifter. I just know when something is wrong."

Derek tried to not let it show that he was surprised Stiles caught him. "What about stealing, isn't that wrong?"

"Not if it was already stolen."

Derek scoffed. "So you're telling me everything you steal has been stolen?"

"No, I'm saying I only steal from the Argents and everything they have was either stolen of the backs of their people or from the rightful ruling families of Beacon and Duszasdom. They rule with an iron fist and Queen Victoria is as fit to rule as the crazed vengencewolf Captain. She lives for nothing other than to see her lands rid of peaceful families just because they are different, even at the expense of her own. She has no right to rule, much less of a claim on the riches of those kingdoms. They can talk peace and prosperity all they want, but the war with King Deucalion is ravaging the lands! The only thing keeping their control is their army of hunters and the so called strengthening arrangements. Just because they gave away the southeastern half of Beacon to the now Queen Natalie and Lady Lydia and the rest to Kate doesn't mean that that vile woman doesn't control it too! And they might have won tentative favor among the Duszaonians with my- the Sheriff's approval, but that won't last long. It might look nice on paper, but make no mistake that family controls everything and everyone who submits to them! And I refuse! Refuse! To be one of them! So call me dirty pirate all you want, I will never submit to a rule under an Argent who thinks about how she can kill innocents just because they're different, before she thinks about the good of her people! The Argents focus their armies inwardly hounding anyone who so much as growls all the while Deucalion slaughters her supposed subjects at the borders! She is unfit to rule as is her sister-in-law! The Argents do not deserve what they took!"

Stiles was heaving with rage in his eyes. If Derek didn't know better he would say that the air was actually charged with lighting, everything felt electric. Stiles seemed to collect himself, but it was more like the lighting was in a bottle now. He may have corked it, but there was still a danger there. "All I'm saying is, I might steal, but I steal from the right people. I don't hurt innocents. There are much worse things out there to be than a pirate."

Derek almost wanted to scream my family is innocent, but with how worked up Stiles had been he thought against it. "You can think what you'd like. I don't want to see you around here again. You are loud with your views and no matter if they are true or not, they attract attention. Attention we don't need. This is private property. Get away." Derek barely held back the urge to make a shooing motion.

Gone was the rage as Stiles slipped into that lazy smile he seemed to always wear. "Private property? This is an alley."

Derek was back to being annoyed. "My alley."

"Okay okay. I'll leave just one question."

Derek let out a huff of exasperation.

"Is it private property to the rat too?" He pointed at a small mouse eating a piece of banana peel.

"Should I take him with me? Or are you going to snap your teeth at h-" Stiles ducked the broom Derek swung at him with a laugh. He started down the alley and called over his shoulder. "Okay, okay. You win sourwolf, I'm going." He started walking backwards to look at Derek. "But I know you'll miss me."

Derek deadpanned. "Desperately."

Stiles let out an obnoxious laugh and set off in a jog. "Goodnight Miguel." Stiles' voice had a strange lilt when he said his name like he knew it was fake.

"Goodnight pirate." Even if he was justified in other things he was definitely still causing harm, whether he knew it or not. Nonetheless, Derek found himself oddly taken in with the pirate. He shook his head trying to rid himself of the amusement curling in his gut.

Derek could hear his mom moving down the stairs. He quickly went back inside to meet her in the back room.

"What took you so long? Were they in the garbage?"

He knew she would hear if he lied, and for some reason he didn't want to tell her about the pirate. "Don't worry mom. I cleaned up the filth out there."

"Good. Let's get to bed. It's late."

It wasn't until he was back settled in bed that he realized that Stiles probably was delivering his moonshine in that brown bag.

---

Derek yawned as he was lost in thought about the night before while wiping a glass. Why had Stiles been in his alley. Sure, he was probably delivering moonshine, but his alley specifically? The town was a maze of different back ways and turns. Not only did he burst into his bar, but to be outside his window? His mother always warned him about people hunting them. It always boggled Derek the amount of paranoia his parents and Laura had for being found. It wasn't just the guard they were weary of either. They wouldn't let anyone outside of the family watch Lily or Thomas, they never told people their real names, and they never allowed them to have friends get too close.

Derek had once. He had made friends with three people, kids really. They had nowhere to go and they were scared. Derek and his family took care of them, but as soon as his mother found out they were wanted by the Captain, Derek never saw them again. For a terrifying moment Derek had wondered if she turned them in to keep her family out of it.

Sometimes it was a lonely life, not being able to talk to anyone outside of his family. He loved them, but he wished that sometimes he could meet someone more than just once. The bar was filled with either people that he'd known since as long as he could remember or drifters that only stopped for a drink.

Then came Stiles.

Why did the first person he actually was able to have a conversation that didn't involve asking what someone wanted to drink, have to be with a filthy pirate?

He felt eyes on him and he looked up.

Laura had one eyebrow raised at him. "I don't think that glass is getting anymore dry. You've been on that one for like five minutes. Something wrong?"

Derek did not want to tell her about Stiles. "No." Fuck that was way too fast, and did his voice really go a bit high, ugh.

Laura looked gleeful. The damn shark looked like she smelled blood in the water. "Really?" Her voice was flat.

"Leave it."

"So there is something!"

Derek put down the glass. "Lauuuuuuraaaaa." He wished she would just go open the doors, so they could start working.

"Nope nope, you do not get to hide this from me. I'm your big sister and nothing ever happens in this town. Spill."

"It has nothing to do with you."

"Don't care. Do you want me to get Mom to as-"

Derek's eyes widened. "You wouldn't, you evil witch." Derek knew she absolutely would. "Fine." He had to remain vague. "I met someone."

Laura's mouth went open with a grin. "You met someone?" She unlocked the door for a group that was waiting.

Shit. By her tone he realized how fucked he was. He stayed vague alright, but by her tone she interpreted it way differently than he meant her to.

"Not like that!"

She looked downright smug. The bitch. "Sure. Not like that at all." She said it like it totally was like that.

"Don't go making a big deal about it."

"Are you kidding? You haven't met a person you haven't instantly hated. This is huge!"

Someone called for a barkeep. He contemplated telling her that he does actually hate them, but that would just open more questions. "I'm done talking about this." Derek walked away from her to help the patron.

"For now. I'll let you be, for now." That woman was evil, pure evil.

---

"You there! Stop! There's nowhere left to run!" The head crown's guard shouted at a panting Stiles heading straight towards the lookout point.

He laughed as he came to a stop where the cobblestone mounted upwards into a waist high fence. The crudely cemented together rocks arched out in an incomplete circle towards the sea, on the edge of a cliff. Stiles hopped up onto the ledge.

"Who said anything about running Captain Jackass?" Smirking, Stiles jumped off with a sloppy salute.

After the expected splash Jackson let out a sigh. "Every fucking time Stilinski."

A few moments later more guards rushed up behind him and swiveled their heads back and forth trying to catch sight of the pirate.

Stiles saw his laugh turn to air bubbles and then race each other to the surface in a wobbly game of chase. They broke the surface, but he kept swimming down.

What little air he had left he used to blow out a little bubble in front of him. He quickly reached out a hand and forced the bubble to stay down with the wave of his hand. He slowly opened his hand and splayed his fingers as far as he could. The air bubble rapidly expanded. Once it was big enough Stiles swam over to it and went inside. He took a deep gasping breath and let out a small chuckle.

"That will only get old once he figures out how I do it." Stiles looked over to a fish swimming by. "Which will be never."

With the flick of a wrist the bubble was moving and carting him along with it. It was moving at a leisurely pace till a big dark shape came into view.

"There she is."

As he came closer Stiles was able to make out the shape he had memorized by now.

Inside a bubble much like the one he was currently in, except much larger, was a ship. But not just any ship, the finest ship in, or on the seven seas. She far out shone any of the sunken ships that had ever graced the waves, because when she went down it was never for long. And any ship now would barely be out of port by the time good ol Claudia made it round the world two times flat. The finest ship and with a crew Stiles had mostly hand picked by the time he was fifteen. It had only taken five years to get Stiles from a sniffling kid just wanting his mom back, to first mate on the head ship of the most feared and respected pirate armada on the seas. It had only taken three more years after that before he convinced the Captain he could lead it before Stiles was Captain Stilinski the feared spark of the seas.

He was renowned for being fair, but ruthless. Many said that if it wasn't for his first mate the town of Schlongshire would be nothing but rubble and bodies not even worth burying. It was unusual for a human to be a pirate, but not unheard of. What was unheard of was a spark being one. When one could control countries and have given to them everything they could want simply for their allegiance, why would they go pillaging the seas for scraps. Sparks hardly came along twice in a century, they were powerful. And more often than not, destined for greater things than being a pirate. All the same, he lived a life true to himself and doing everything in his power to make the world better, while trying his damnedest to return to his family. Even if in his many years at sea he had learned to make a new one. One that ate oranges and threw each other overboard for a laugh. He helped supernaturals as much as he could, giving the homeless and hopeless with nowhere else to turn, a place to be accepted. To be cared for and a part of something.

It was no secret that most of his crew was strays he had picked up or saved from certain doom. He even protected quite a few from the grasp of the Argents and even the Captain.

His bubble met the much bigger one slightly above deck level and as they pressed into each other they combined and Stiles popped through. He fell down and landed on deck in a crouch steadying himself with on hand on the floor.

As if they hadn't seen his approach, his crew's eyes snapped to attention at the sound of his boots hitting the wood.

"Mornin Cap."

Stiles half bowed at the man carrying a barrel across the ship. "And an absolutely splendid mornin to you as well."

A man rushed up to him. "How did it go?" The man seemed nervous.

"Scotty, me matey, you worry too much."

Scott rolled his eyes. "You know you sound ridiculous when you speak like that."

"Arrr I do. And you know you love it."

Scott's face went serious. "How did it fare?"

Stiles' smile fell as he looked at him. "Where is she?"

Scott winced. "That bad? She's below deck, she didn't sleep well and has a headache. What happened?"

Stiles looked around to see if anyone was listening. Everyone seemed rather busy as soon as he looked. In fact as his eyes started sweeping the deck he clocked at least three people actually sweeping the deck which was odd because it was his turn to brush away the dirt. "Are you givin your Captain sauce?" Stiles hooked an arm around his neck and started walking them towards his quarters. "It went bloody brilliant as expected."

Once the door shut behind them Stiles let go of him. "How many times do I have to tell you, no talking in front of the crew. It's bad for morale."

"So it is bad news then?"

Stiles sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face as he tossed his hat onto his desk. "Duchess Evangeline hadn't heard or found anything and neither has Lord Emhyr." Stiles sat heavily down in his chair by his desk and Scott came closer. "If they're in either of their territories they're so well hidden that they'll never find them."

Scott crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk. "And you believe them? You think they're trustworthy?"

Stiles gave a considering look as he steepled his fingers. He nodded his head. "I do. With what we know about them they wouldn't dare lie to us. If there is any further information they would've passed it along. For all the Lady's talents, blackmail is one of her finest."

"And were you followed on your way back from your meeting with her?"

Stiles scoffed. "The Captain couldn't catch me if I had two hands tied behind my back, and I would know-"

Scott rolled his eyes and spoke instep with Stiles.

"I've gotten away shackled."

"- I've gotten away shackled." Stiles stuck out his tongue. "Make fun all you'd like, that was badass."

Stiles stared at him until one side of his jaw moved and his lip curled up. "Okay, that was pretty badass."

Stiles smiled. "Okay, I'm all good here. I'll be heading to bed shortly, I woke up so early it was late, you should go check on her."

Scott's expression changed. "You going to bed shortly translates to me walking in on you in the morning still up, drunk bent over the charts."

Stiles' wide smile dropped. "I'll be fine. You head to bed, you woke early as well."

Scott didn't move. "You may not want to worry the crew, but I'm not just crew. I'm your firstmate. You're my brother." Scott looked at him with his puppy eyes.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Alright you can stop that now. I'm worried Scotty, of course I am. If we don't find them in time-"

"We will find them in time." Scott went over to the couch and sat down.

Stiles gave him a flat look. "Your eternal optimism is not welcome here."

"Okay fine. Say we don't, it will still be fine. We have a backup plan." Scott motioned him to come sit.

Stiles gave him a dubious look. "You and I both know she won't be able to kill her father, not when he hasn't done anything to deserve it." Stiles poured two glasses of rum and walked over to sit down.

Scott took a glass. "So we'll find a way around it. Stiles I know us, I know you. You've always thought of something, you always figure any problem we have out."

Stiles ran a hand through his hair. "That's just it Scotty, this isn't just some problem. This is the problem, the biggest problem. And if this doesn't go right then we're most likely dead."

Scott put a commiserating hand on his arm. "Yeah. That would suck for us."

"It would so suck."

Stiles drained his glass and set it on the floor. "Alright, open up. I need puppy cuddles."

Scott opened his arms and wedged a leg along the back of the couch and draped the other down the side of the couch. Stiles crawled into his arms and leaned his back against Scott's front.

"Scott you're the best friend ever."

Scott wrapped his arms around Stiles and breathed in his best friend that always smelled like spicy soap, seawater, and something crackling. It took him awhile to realize, but he knew now that was the scent of Stiles' rage. Ever present, even now, content to be wrapped up safe with the person he relied on most. "We are going to be okay. Stiles, I need you to realize that. We will figure it out and we will be behind you every step of the way. This crew, they would die for you. We're a family Stiles. You did that, you built us. You saved us. You aren't just my best friend or the best Captain, you're the best person I've ever known."

With his words Scott swore he could hear the thunder receding. "I just don't want to let everyone down. Everyone is all in on this one. And no matter what everyone says, even if it is their choice, if this goes belly up, it's on me."

"Yeah it is. It's on ye, it's on me, it's on everyone involved. But that won't stop you will it?"

Stiles sighed and leaned his head back into the curve of Scott's neck. "No, it won't."

"So we're in this together?"

"Aye. We always are. Always have been."

There was a pause of silence as they just relaxed.

"Why can't we be nine again, running around and stealing jelly tarts when our moms weren't looking?"

Scott slapped Stiles' stomach. "Excuse ye! I never stole jelly tarts! You never told me they were stolen! I still can't believe ye roped me into that one. It's been nine years and I still can't believe that!"

Stiles laughed. "But you ate them, you were a part of it!" He chuckled and then his scent went sour. "Maybe I was always meant to be a filthy pirate stealing things and hurting people."

"Hey what did we say about listening to the shit Jackson says?" Scott said it jokingly expecting a light-hearted response. Usually Stiles didn't take those sorts of things to heart.

He was serious as he replied, "It wasn't Jackson."

Scott set his drink down. "What? Who was it?"

Stiles stared blankly up at the ceiling. "Just some man, a barkeep. From yesterday."

"Don't let those speciest, Gerard lovers get to ye. He's a pig for-"

"No. He wasn't. He was an honest man, kind to his brother. I think he was a good man, a truly good one. He just- when he looked at me I could see just, this hatred. He hated pirates, he hated me even after I told him I didn't steal from the local fishermen. I felt like he truly hated me the second he looked at me. It was strange. I've never felt anything like it. You're going to think I'm mad but-"

"I already know you are mad."

Stiles elbowed him. "His eyes. I feel like I recognized them. And I just strangely wanted to get him to understand that I was not his enemy. I wanted him to think I was good too."

"Oh by thunder, that's your Lady Lydia voice! Have ye planned your wedding yet?"

"Shut up. I don't know he just felt... Important. I shouldn't even be thinking about this. It doesn't matter. I'll never see him again."

Stiles was still staring at the ceiling without moving.

"But ye want to?"

"It doesn't matt-"

"Do y-"

"Yes!" He turned and laid on his stomach. "I want his eyes to look at my eyes. And for him to not have so much hate in them. Is that so much to ask for?"

Scott smiled. "I think you deserve to be happy, but you pick impossible ways of getting there. But if you think he could be good for ye, go for it."

"It's not even that Scotty, I just feel in my bones I need to see him again. It's not like that at all. "

"Like your spark says so? Okay. Then do that."

"Don't be daft."

"I'm not."

"I can't be distracted right now."

"Oh, he's distracting is he?"

Stiles turned his head and smiled. "He's hotter than Lady Lydia."

Scott grabbed the couch like they were sailing stormy seas that were tossing the ship about. "Hotter than Lady Lydia!"

Stiles pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhhh she'll hear you!"

"We're under the ocean and she's miles away in her castle."

"She has tea with Davey Jones, they gossip."

Scott laughed at his friend which was interrupted by a knock and some one barging in followed by the door slamming. "Is the Cap- Ugh gross your weird incesto make out session is not something I wanted to see today."

"Cora, how many times do I have to tell ye. Knock, wait, then come in!"

Cora rolled her eyes. "I just came in to ask if the Cap-"

There was another knock and the door once again slammed open. "Is the Captain coming out to tell us what happened?"

Stiles pressed his face into Scott's chest and banged it against it. "Ma-li-aaaaa! Knock! Wait! Come in! I swear I will hang a sign."

"She can't read remember?"

Malia snarled at Cora.

"What? You can't."

"That's rude Cora! Malia put the claws away there will be no murdering of crewmates today." He turned to Scott. "I swear by the stars I thought I was their Captain not their mother."

They laughed as they stood up to stretch.

"Captain will give a quick talk, eat something, then get some sleep."

"What would I do without you Scotty."

"Set ye ship on fire."

"That was one time!"

"Do you know how many times it takes a ship to burn down? Once. And it happened again too!"

"That time doesn't count because technically it was the monkey and you know it!"

---

FOUR MONTHS AGO

Derek had tried to push it away to not focus on it, he even nearly forgot. But as the days went by he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was about to burst through the bar doors. It had been over a month since he had seen the pirate and he didn't know if he was expecting him to have sent the crown's guard or if the pirate would burst through the doors again. One sent dread and the other excitement and he didn't know how to feel about that, hell he'd deny feeling anything but contempt for the pirate. Each day Derek became more resigned to never seeing him again, but one night when the sound of rustling in the alley woke him up he sprung out of bed.

"I'll get it mom!" He called out a little too loudly for the late hour as he rushed down the steps.

"Don't wake the whole house!" That was Laura's voice not his mom's.

"Go back to sleep you wench."

He could tell she was raising a middle finger to his back without even turning.

He threw open the door and for a disappointing second didn't see anything. Slowly out of a shadow a figure emerged.

"What are you doing here pirate?"

That damn lazy smirk. "I thought you might miss me by now."

Damn him. "Like shit on a shoe."

The pirate laughed and Derek found himself smiling. The sticky sweat and fever of having too heavy of a blanket on in the tropic heat still clung to the back of his neck, but the warmth felt a little less scorching with the night air tickling his skin.

"Do you often have looters?"

Derek was confused by the question. "What?"

"Well, I was just wondering what would prompt you to so eagerly bolt out of bed in such a state."

Derek looked down at his bare torso and thin sleeping pants. He crossed his arms with a scowl, but quickly used one hand to try and smooth down his bed head.

Stiles looked up and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth while the corners tilted up.

"That made it w-"

"Worse. So much worse." The words flooded out of him with joy.

Derek's cheeks heated as he looked away.

Stiles came closer and lifted a hand. Derek flinched.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I won't hurt you."

He had never seen his eyes this close before and he knew he'd never pour another glass of whiskey again without thinking about how honest he looked right now. How truthful, how right.

He moved his hands up again and carded his hands through his hair to smooth it out.

"There." He smiled at Derek and he swallowed harshly. "Now, I can't do anything about the pants... Well, I cou-"

Derek met his raised eyebrow with a pair of flat ones. "No, thank you."

"Hm, are you that polite in the bedroom too?"

Derek was so caught of guard he scoffed as his cheeks flamed. "Must you be so shameless?"

"Yup. Otherwise I lose a bet that I couldn't live my whole life being the most shameless person to ever walk the earth. And unfortunately I put my ship as collateral, so I must keep to it."

At the mention of his ship Derek's eyes hardened again. "Well, it's rude and off putting."

"If you'd rather I could be putting out."

"I'd rather you leave my alley."

The step forward the pirate took was dangerous and Derek suddenly couldn't remember how to breathe. He was close before, but now he could see that it was exactly three thirty-five on a good sea faring day, the kind of day filled with just the perfect amount of sunshine filtering through windows that if he swirled a glass of whiskey it would be the closest anything could ever get to his eyes without a touch of magic. They were hypnotic and he wondered if maybe the pirate had been blessed by a seawitch. A blessing that any hate ever felt towards him would turn to butterflies.

"Would you though? Would you rather that I leave? Because I can."

Stiles went to take a step back and immediately Derek's mouth fell open. The pirate smirked at him and his rage came back at being tricked and toyed with. "Why are you here in my alley, pirate?" Derek caught sight of the bag over his shoulder and quickly dug in it and snatched out a bottle.

Stiles scrambled to get it back. "Hey, that's mine!" As he reached for it Derek held it up. Even though they were the same height, Derek grew up with multiple siblings and knew how to play keep away. As Stiles' limbs flailed in their pursuit he whined. "With all the shit you gave me about stealing, and here you are taking my things!"

Derek knew he had a right to what he said, but the anger was still there. He pushed Stiles backwards and looked right into his eyes as he sent the bottle crashing to the ground.

It shattered with an awful noise and liquor splashed everywhere. As the pieces scattered Stiles' eyes widened. "What the hell! Dude, that is so not cool!" His eyes were still downcast at the shards that now laid all over. As soon as he looked up he took a step back.

There was malice in his eyes clear as day.

"Leave pirate. And don't come back."

This time Stiles believed him. He scrambled backwards and as he took off into the night Derek heard something like he's not worth it. He felt that mutter as if Stiles had picked up a shard and slashed across his chest with it.

This entire time he's been rejecting the pirate. He's been belittling him, thinking he's heartless. A thief. A criminal. But to hear that he doesn't think Derek was worth it hurt more than he would've thought. Worth what? The time he took to talk to him? The effort to annoy him? The air he breathes? The space he takes up? The family that he has? Not worth what? Anything? It was so vague Derek's mind took it and ran. He imagined he meant all of them. Maybe that's why it hurt so bad, it was like multiple insults at once.

Just like that, as soon as he could no longer hear the pirate absconding in the night, Derek felt the familiar heat at the back of his throat. His anger and returned and decided he wanted nothing to do with the filthy pirate anymore.

Derek fell into bed still hot with anger and tossed his blanket to the floor. Derek laid there stewing till he thought about how his anger was justified. The pirate insulted him, even if he had done something offensive first. The pirate was a rotten no good liar. He didn't know shit about Derek. A self satisfied smirk found its way to his lips. He was glad he had vented like that now. It was good to get it out, because he deserved it.

With a yawn he decided to sleep and dream only of the pirate's ship sailing far away.

Thomas was asleep in his bed, but even from across the room he felt the comfort his brother brought him. He listened to his heartbeat and drifted off.

---

He was aware of the sunlight filtering into the room before he opened his eyes. He heard heartbeats from all the rooms and instinctively felt the safety of having his pack asleep around him. His eyes opened in soft little flicks of his lashes. He felt the peace of the morning and smiled. He hadn't slept like that in ages.

While getting dressed he debated taking a quick run. He woke up early and feeling rested, but he knew the day would tire him out quickly. It was better to just get to work. By the time Laura came down he had already set up all the tables, made breakfast for everyone, and gotten the bar ready for the day.

"Ugh, I nearly forgot you're a disgusting morning person. Seriously Der, it's been so long I was getting used to you rolling out of bed right before mom was about to lose her shit and go into your room to tackle you."

He let a small smile grace his face.

Her face still had a mark where she had laid on her pillow, but to Derek she was the most intimidating person he had ever met when she had that look on her face. She raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so glee ridden today?"

"I just slept well."

She became further intrigued. "And why did you sleep well?"

Derek needed to distract her with something and quickly. "I don't know. Hey, I made fresh bread for breakfast."

She squinted at him. "You're distracting me."

Oh shit, oh shit. It was the worst when she knew she was being distracted. She would be relentless now.

Her face turned sad. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me. It's just I miss how we used to be. We were so close. You used to tell me everything. I guess I just wanted to feel like your big sister again."

Derek felt the back of his throat getting thick. Damn her. This is how she wanted to play it, fine. He was ready to tell her to stop guilting him, but then he caught her eyes and he saw the sparkle of sincerity. Derek knew he had been pulling away from them, but he didn't think they'd notice. The guilt of it wore him down and he leaned against the counter with a huff.

He saw the satisfaction in her face, but she leaned against the bar as well to show how ready she was to listen.

His sister knew him, so when he sat in silence she didn't push.

Why had he slept so good? Why did he feel so content? The foreground of his mind wanted to shout that it was because he had sent the pirate off, but even if it was the loudest voice it wasn't the only one. With how calm he was he knew, deep down, that Stiles wasn't the only pirate responsible. He was just the only one Derek could hold responsible. Hell, it wasn't even just all the pirates' fault. It was the taxes to fund an unnecessary war. It was the war killing people's spirits. It was the Argents for creating the war. It was so many things, but Stiles was all he could focus on because it was easier to scream at one person than accept there's a flawed system in place that he can't fix. He knew rationally he didn't really want Stiles gone, so why was he happy that he was?

Or maybe it wasn't that Stiles was gone that made him happy.

Maybe it was that he was there at all.

Derek tried to find a reason for it to not be true, but he couldn't.

But then if he was happy that Stiles was there, why was he still happy once he was gone? It didn't make any sense. He felt confused and wrong footed.

Why was he so happy? Why was he so content? Why was h-

Derek's head lifted up from where he had been staring at the ground with a shock.

Why wasn't he angry?

That was the real question. He hadn't even noticed, but he didn't feel the heat at his back chasing him. He didn't feel the burning inside. For the first time in a long time he had awoken without the rage.

Maybe he wasn't happy that the pirate was there. Maybe he was just not angry once he had left. Maybe letting it out helped him in a way he hadn't been helped in a long time. It still made him feel bad. Especially remembering the way he looked at him once he told him to leave, but still. That hole where his anger was, was so much lighter to carry now. Even if there was an emptiness that came with how he got it.

He knew it wouldn't last, but today he was genuinely happy. He couldn't help wanting to see the pirate everyday if this is how he felt afterwards. Even if that was selfish.

Laura made a noise that let him know she was getting impatient.

Even if he didn't understand it, he knew he had to try to explain.

"That person I met." He could tell she got excited. "We had a fight. I yelled at him and I don't think I'll ever see him again and it makes me happy."

He could sense the confusion.

"I told you it wasn't like that Laur. But it's not really that I enjoy that he's gone either, at least I think not. I just- I always have this anger in me. It just hurts so much, and when I yelled at him it made it not hurt so much. I know it was shitty of me, but I-I just..."

"You just want it to stop hurting." Her eyes were teary and Derek could feel his getting glossy as well.

"I don't know why. I don't know why I feel this anger. God Laura, it doesn't make any sense. It's just there constantly, and it feels like I'm on fire."

At that Laura let out a choked sob.

"I'm sorry Laura. I'm so sorry I don't know why I'm like this."

She moved quickly towards him and pulled him into a hug. "Do not, ever, tell me you're sorry for how you feel. You hear me? You only have to apologize for how you act with those emotions."

Derek gripped onto the back of her shirt for a few more moments, grateful to feel the comfort of his big sister again.

When they broke apart Laura looked questioningly into his eyes. "Do you think this happiness will wear off once you realize, truly realize, that you'll never see him again? You'll never get to apologize. Don't you think you'll feel bad for what you said to him?"

Derek shrugged. "I guess I'll find out."

While they had breakfast Derek smiled at jokes and gave an extra slice of bread to Lily and they looked at him with approval. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had interacted with his family normally. He enjoyed the day and he fell into sleep with a blissful sigh.

---

When he woke up the anger wasn't back all the way. It was just like there was a match, a tiny insignificant match. He could deal with a match.

By the end of the week the match had grown to a campfire and the hole inside him had gotten deeper.

By two more weeks the fire had consumed him and there was smoke biting at his lungs like he had never felt before. The hole inside him was a cavern that he didn't know how to crawl out of. Over the last few days he'd been getting concerned looks from the family he couldn't stop pushing away and snapping at. He didn't know how much longer he could take it.

---

THREE MONTHS AGO

It had been over a month since he had seen the pirate when Laura got the idea to try and provoke him. To try and get his anger out on her. No matter what she tried he wouldn't react.

She was particularly determined when she awoke him by smacking him.

It was a long day and he was just tired. Tired of everything. At the dinner table she made one final jab.

"What's even the purpose of you getting up at all if you're going to be so late?"

His mother was about to admonish her when he spoke.

"I don't know what the purpose of it is either."

He didn't know whether it was what he said or the way he said it, but everyone stopped. His father's cutlery clanked onto his plate and he sent unsure glances to his wife.

His mother pushed her chair away from the table and went to his side. She kissed his forehead and spoke. "There is always a reason to get up in the mornings."

He mustered a smile he didn't feel. "Right." He excused himself and headed to bed.

He heard the door open and close, then Thomas getting changed. They both laid down in silence till Thomas' voice came out sure. "Tell me a story Derek."

He looked to where his brother was. "Sorry bud. I don't think my stories would be any good tonight."

"A story doesn't have to be good to be worth hearing. Sometimes it just has to be what someone needs to hear, or even what someone needs to tell."

"Tommy?"

"Yeah Derek?"

"You really freak me out when you say stuff like that."

They both gently laughed into the darkness.

"You're eight. You shouldn't know the secret to life."

"Okay, then I won't. Tell me a story."

Derek settled into his bed more and turned to stare at the ceiling.

"I suppose you want one about pirates." Thomas loved his stories about pirates, and after meeting one Derek knew that would be the only thing he'd like to hear. He'd been able to avoid it after his fight so far. Thomas seemed to sense he didn't want to talk about them, but it seemed he'd have to finally cave tonight.

"It doesn't have to be about pirates." He could hear the, 'But I really want it to be.' in the tone of his voice.

"Just a short one, okay? I have to haul the brews tomorrow."

"Fine."

Thomas listened, completely enthralled, while Derek told a story about a boy cursed by a witch to breath fire. Thomas could feel the heat in his own neck as Derek described the boy choking on cinders. The rage bubbling in the boys chest felt oddly familiar, but Thomas knew it wasn't his own.

He spoke of ash clogging lungs and Thomas felt like coughing. Derek explained how every time the boy felt deeply, the fire poured out of him. Everything about what he was saying lit him up. He wanted to scratch at scabs that weren't even there. Thomas was scared of the darkness surrounding him, but it had nothing to do with how the dim room reminded him of smoke. What scared him was how it seemed to be coming out of Derek as he spoke, in great big puffs that snuffed out the light.

Thomas was about to try and move the story away from the flames by asking where the pirates were when Derek's tone changed all by itself.

He started describing the cool waves and the crisp scent of the sea that clung to an annoying pirate. The pirate pestered the boy till he lead him through the town. The boy showed him around and brought him to his favorite apple tree. They shared apples as they talked. The pirate made the boy laugh and as he did flames bubbled up and burned the pirate. The boy ran away as the pirate called after him. Derek told about the guilt the boy felt from burning the pirate, but he was happy because it had been so long since he had laughed like that. The boy sat on a rock over looking the harbor and watched ships leaving wondering if the pirate had left yet.

Derek had stopped talking and it took Thomas a bit to realize that was where he was leaving it. "That's the end?"

Derek sounded confused. "Yes? Of course it's the end, why wouldn't it be?"

Thomas sat up in his bed. "Because! You didn't deal with the witch, or explain why she had done it. You didn't let the boy let go of his anger. You didn't let the pirate know what was happening and why he got hurt. He deserves to know why! You didn't have them fall in love. They didn't even meet again!"

Derek's cheeks heated as he clung to one particular sentence. "Fall in love?"

"Yes! They were meant to fall in love right? The pirate made him laugh. The boy brought him to his favorite apple tree!"

"He hurt him. Why would he come back?"

"Because! Just because butthead! You can't stop the story there! You just can't." Thomas was emphatic about it.

"What happened to a story doesn't have to be a good one? Huh?" Derek raised an eyebrow at his brother who he knew couldn't see it.

"A story doesn't have to be good, but it does have to be completed. That's not the end. It just can't be."

Derek took a deep breath and Thomas could tell he was about to tell him to go to sleep.

"I'm going to finish it."

Derek's mouth dropped open. "How dare you! I told you it wouldn't be good. You wound me, deeply. I'll never recover. You don't like your big bros stories anymore, you have to rewrite the ending."

Thomas rolled his eyes. " I'm not rewriting anything you baby. Now listen."

Thomas talked about their reunion and how the pirate wasn't mad the fire burned him. He had a magical potion from the kraken that healed it, so it didn't even hurt. It did leave a cool shimmery scar that the pirate showed the boy because he thought it was cool.

Derek chuckled at that.

The boy told him he was frightened about how the pirate would react to his abilities. How everyone had shunned him, but the pirate didn't care. They became friends and the pirate asked him to sail away with him. He refused because he didn't want to burn the pirate's ship. But the pirate came up with a plan. He took him to a cove on the other side of the island and within they met sirens.

The sirens blessed the boy with their gifts. From then on whenever the boy would feel the fire inch up his throat all he had to do was sing and the salty waves would flow from his lungs out his lips to vanquish the flames.

To thank the pirate he promised to sing for him, but the pirate refused him. He told him to only sing for him if he would stay with him to sing aboard his ship everyday.

The boy said he would, and so he also became a pirate. They sailed the seas and lived happily ever after.

"And that's how the story is supposed to end!" Thomas' voice sounded snooty.

"Why would the boy become a pirate? And how could he leave his home? Also the pirate just forgives him? And you didn't even talk about the witch!" Derek replied snottily.

"Because he wanted to leave, everyone didn't like him."

"Still, why would he become a pirate?"

"Because that's what his friend was. He wanted to be like him, so he wasn't alone." Thomas explained.

"Still, he could've gone without becoming a pirate." Derek refuted.

"It's just a story Derek, why does it matter so much?" He seemed like he already knew the answer.

Derek felt gobsmacked. "You're the one that wouldn't let me end it! You made up an ending!"

"But you're the one trying to change what the characters did. They're just characters. What they do doesn't impact anything. It's not like they're real."

Derek was about to argue again when their door opened.

"Boys! You're supposed to be asleep. Go to bed!"

"Sorry Mom."

"Sorry Mom."

After a scolding look, she closed the door and they settled into bed.

"Goodnight love you." Thomas turned over.

He was done talking. Apparently, he had said what he was going to.

"Goodnight Tommy. I love you too."

Derek said goodnight even though he wanted to question him on what he meant. Thomas always seemed like he cared what the characters did. He always complained when Derek was too mean to one character or if one did something that didn't seem like them. Why did he say that what they did didn't matter?

He hadn't said that though, had he? He had said what they do doesn't impact anything.

The boy burning the pirate didn't impact anything. It wasn't like they were real.

Derek got a flash of hurt eyes and a speedy exit. It wasn't like they were real.

They weren't real.

But why did Derek have this pulling in his chest when he thought of the pirate in pain as the boy ran away?

He heard his brother's voice echoing. It wasn't like they were real.

Derek huffed and whispered to his brother's soft snores. "God damn you, you witch child."

What they did didn't impact anything, but Derek was real. His pirate was real. And he had hurt him.

Laura's words came back to him and he supposed he finally did feel awful for yelling.

He fell asleep cursing his siblings.

---

He had a fitful night of sleep and woke up already exhausted. The day drug on, and by the time he was on his last trip from the distillery he was beyond tired.

He was thankfully going down the last hill before he reached the bar. He debated taking a break, but decided to just get it over with.

He didn't see the uneven cobblestone till it was too late.

Fuck.

He managed to keep a hold on one of the barrels, but the other went sailing down the hill.

Derek watched it go with a detached sort of disappointment.

Fuck his life.

About half way down the hill a figure emerged from an alley. They were cloaked in shadow. The figure swiftly moved in front of the barrel while speaking, "What would you do without me?"

Just as they finished talking the barrel reached right in front of them. As it came close they brushed their coat behind them and lifted up one boot to stop the barrel. Their hat had a ridiculous feather standing up proudly as they stood with their arms akimbo.

For one shining moment they looked quite heroic. But the momentum from the hill, and then quickly being stopped must've sloshed the liquid inside. The second wave of force was unexpected. And just as the figure tipped their hat to look up, Derek caught a glimpse of a wide, brown eyed, mole dotted face.

Stiles' perched boot slipped in front of the barrel which, without anything stopping it, rolled into his other leg. Just like that Stiles went face first into the cobblestone, barely catching any of his weight with his arms.

"Roaloorororloriiiiiiikeeerkrlo." The barrel continued down the hill unbidden.

Stiles flipped over with a muttered, "Fuck." He lifted onto his elbows to see the barrel. After it had trampled some bushes, it rolled over a felled branch like a ramp. It was about to fly off the cliff's edge.

Stiles lifted a hand. It was Derek's turn to go wide eyed.

A soft yellow light flowed around his hand like currents. That same light wrapped itself around the barrel and caught it midair. Derek looked at Stiles only to see the same light emanating from his eyes. Derek nearly dropped the other barrel with shock.

With a wave of his hand the barrel was coming closer and obediently sat softly onto the ground next to him.

"Damn. I woulda looked so swashbuckling if that would've worked." Stiles picked up his hat.

"You have magic!" Derek was quickly moving closer, now wide awake.

"Yes? Didn't you know?" Stiles replied nonchalantly as he got off the floor.

His eyebrows went flat from where they were embedded in his hairline. "I wouldn't have asked if I knew." Derek stopped still a few paces away.

"Well sooorry. I figured the glowy hands-" He wiggled his fingers. "And barrel freezing midair were a big enough clue in, but yes I'm a spark."

He filed away the knowledge of what Stiles was, it was very shocking and he didn't know what to do with that. Derek laughed while he shook his head. "Are you always this much of a jackass?"

Stiles didn't miss a beat. "Only on Tuesdays and Thursdays." He brushed non-existent dirt off his shoulders.

Derek's eyebrows furrowed. "Today is Sunday?"

Stiles seemed thoughtful. "Huh. Well, then I guess Sundays too." He seemed to dwell on the thought for a moment longer before snapping out of it. "Anyway, you have your barrel and my pride has been brutally ripped from me once again. I do believe that brings our affairs to a close." Stiles clasped his hands behind his back, waiting for him to leave.

He didn't budge.

"So if you'll excu-"

"Wait." Derek set down the barrel.

There was a pause as they both waited for Derek to say something.

"About last time-"

"What about last time?" He seemed like a shark.

"Well, I just wanted to say- I wanted to say I was wr-"

"Captain Stiles!"

Derek startled as a portly old man came running out of another alley.

"You weren't at the agreed spot?" He looked out of breath and confused. Derek recognized him as Mr. Bramington. He came into the bar a couple nights a week, but hadn't been in a few weeks.

Stiles had a plastered on smile. "My apologies friend. I believe I'm done here anyway. Good to see you again." He gave a curt nod that Derek knew meant it was not.

"Well, should we get on with our business Captain?" He gave Derek a distrustful glance. "To the meeting spot?"

"Why yes, of course." As Stiles stretched out an arm to usher the man forth, he caught sight of that damn bag.

"Mr. Bramington, how have you been?" Derek said before they could leave.

He squinted in the low light, till recognition filled his features. "Why Derek! I've been well. How've you been, my boy?"

"Good. Have you truly been well? What about Martha and the boys?"

He seemed confused till Derek mentioned the boys, then his face lit up. "Yes I have. Martha as well. But that's not what you want to know is it, you scamp." He gave him a fond knowing look. "You're asking after Jacob, aren't you? He talks about you constantly. He truly will be overjoyed to hear I ran into you. You must meet up. You've only seen each other, what twice? That cannot stand. Oh and your little brother could come along to play with my Fletcher." His eyes looked dreamy. "Just think of it, two of my boys, marring two of Jadwiga's boys."

Stiles' jaw dropped and he looked at Derek squinting, before he shook it off.

"You know, your mother caused quite the stir when you all moved here. No matter how humble she tried to be her beauty nearly broke quite a many marriages. But I have always thought higher. Admitted, I did think it would be my oldest and Laura that got together, but fate always finds a way."

Stiles and Derek shared sideways glances. Derek mouthed something that seemed like make him stop.

"I think it's actually qui-"

"Shall we continue to our business?"

His gaping mouth closed with a shake. "Why yes. Yes, of course."

Derek raised a hand. "Actually I was wondering, because I haven't seen you at the bar in awhile. And now you're taking up with this sort of... Company."

Stiles narrowed his eyes.

The man seemed to fumble his works. "Right well, you see. Well, times are tough. You understand my boy, right? Do tell your mother I am sorry, but with the war, you understand. Even for my son's future in-laws it's hard to manage." The man worried at his overcoat. "Well you do u-"

"Understand. Right." Derek's words were clipped as he stared at the pirate.

The pirate slung an arm over Mr. Bramington's shoulders with a smirk. "Now that that's sorted, shall we? I do appreciate," The pirate looked directly at Derek. "That I'm the one getting your business."

Derek could feel his blood boil. Let the competition begin. "Not so fast." He plastered on a fake grin. "I don't want to lose such valued customer, especially one with such deep familial ties. So what do you say, half priced drinks tomorrow?"

Mr. Bramington's eyes gleamed.

"Now now. I think he's developed quite the taste for moonshine, there's no going back once you've tasted our quality."

Derek scoffed. "That pisswater? My sister does all of our brewing. She carefully makes every batch. You'd be lucky not to be actually drinking piss with him. And half priced is one hell of a deal."

Derek would've sworn there was a flash of light in his eyes before he fired back. "Half off is one hell of a deal... What about buy one bottle get the second free? And I personally assure you my first mate stopped pissing in the bottles months back." He gave Mr. Bramington a hearty back slap and tossed a wink at Derek.

Mr. Bramington let out a laugh at the pirate's joke. "Well, that does sound good. I'll-"

Derek felt bad for what he was about to do, but he couldn't help it. The smug way the pirate was looking at him was infuriating. "First round on us, anything you'd like. Then half off. And I would love it if you would bring Jacob with you. It has been so long since I've seen him."

The man nearly started to shake with glee. He ran over to hug Derek, and he lifted him slightly. "Deal my boy! Oh, he'll be so excited! We'll see you four sharp. Right after work. I can't wait to tell Martha! She'll have to hurry up and finish her dress for the wedding!"

They watched as the man sped off.

Stiles turned to Derek with disbelieving eyes. "As in, she's already started the dress?"

They both burst out laughing at the same time.

Once their laughter subsided, Stiles turned to him with a smile. "So I take it you're not actually in a starcrossed love affair with his son, as he seems to think?"

Derek raised an eyebrow then his face went flat. "Why would you even have to ask? We're desperately in love. Don't tell anyone though."

"Ah his parents don't know?" The pirate put on a face of faux sympathy.

"It would break them if they found out." Derek was still speaking deadpan. He moved closer to the barrel Stiles caught.

Stiles laughed once again. "My lips are sealed. That was quite heartless though. To mess with that poor man and his son just for some rivalry with a handsome pirate."

Derek felt a stab of guilt again, something he was getting quite used to feeling. "I would feel worse if his son wasn't so insistent. The only time we spoke he mentioned that his father could acquire five pigs for my hand."

"That's ludicrous!"

Derek smiled. "I kno-"

"You're worth at least twenty. And maybe a horse."

He was taken aback as his cheeks flamed.

"And don't think I've forgotten that you didn't dispute that I'm handsome." He tossed another wink and Derek wondered how he could ever be so carelessly charming.

"I- wh- no."

"To what? No to what? The pigs? Or my devilish good looks? Maybe you object about the horse and I see where you're coming from. Your personality leaves a bit to be desired, so maybe a compromise. Twenty pigs and then an ass included into the deal."

Derek drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "Why would they give my family you?"

Stiles' face looked shocked, but still amused. "So you do have jokes hidden away in those eyebrows."

Derek let the corners of his mouth lift. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"Well bravo. That one was good. Got any other ones?"

Derek felt the lightness in his chest, but it wasn't filled with heat either. Right now it felt like he was a down pillow. He wanted to float on the cool night air forever. "Maybe. If you stick around."

He looked caught off guard. "Hm, well is this your alley?"

It was Derek's turn to not expect what the other said. "I'm sorry?"

There was a defensive edge to his eyes now. "It's just every time I find myself in your company you tell me to get out of your alley. So is this your alley?"

Derek considered. He tried to pull up all of the anger he felt with their little rivalry, but he just felt light. "No. This is just a street. An empty street, late at night. Anyone can meet anyone here."

"Even a pirate?"

He thought back to Thomas and Laura. "Yes. Even a pirate."

He nodded and seemed to accept it, but the defensive nature was still there. "So tonight I'm just Stiles and you're just..."

"Mig-"

"I seriously am not calling you Miguel. There is no way that is your name. How bout a nickname?"

His response was immediate. "No."

"Eyebrows? Cranky pants? Barkeep?"

Derek didn't like the idea of him calling him any of those things, but barkeep was especially grating. It was like that's all they were. Just barkeep and customer. They weren't even acquaintances yet, but they weren't just that. Well Derek didn't know what they were, he wasn't even sure he didn't actually hate him. Maybe they were rivals. Rivals that were occasionally friendly, but rivals all the same. That sounded right.

"Do not call me any of those."

"Well what do you suggest sourwolf? Hey tha-"

Derek instantly was alarmed. "Would you shut up! We are in the street!"

It took a beat but he realized his mistake. "Yes, in the empty street. At one in the morning!"

Derek still looked upset. "Still!"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Oh, for the love of the bloody sea! Fine!" His eyes started to swirl with black and the inky color smoked out of his eyes in wisps. That same dark black weaved around his fingers and gradually faded to a smoke all around them.

Derek took two steps back in alarm.

The smoke quickly dissipated and his eyes went back to whiskey brown. "There. Now no one can hear us. Happy, sparky?"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "I find that interesting that you picked that, considering you're the spark."

Stiles opened his mouth then shut it. "You have me there, spot."

"I will rip your throat out. With my teeth." Derek sounded sincere.

A jolt of excitement raced up Stiles' spine. "I've never been one to shy away because of a threat. Especially not one as alluring as that." Stiles smirked.

Derek floundered. "I didn't- That's not what I meant."

"Sure it wasn't sourwolf. Then, how exactly did you mean it?"

Stiles took a step forward and had an evil glint in his eye. Derek found himself taking a small step back. He hit the barrel behind him and Stiles followed till he was close.

"How did you mean it big bad? Did you mean you would slam into me? Press me against a wall? Would you flash your eyes at me to let me know who was in control? Would you growl? I bet your claws would be out. Would you be careful with them? Or would you scratch me all up? Would you leave bruises from where you held me down? Would my wrists wear your mark like manacles from when you pressed them above my head? I bet you could do it with one hand, that you would."

Derek swallowed harshly.

"Would you make me beg you? Would I be able to see the hint of fang peeking from your lips as you smiled? Would you tip my head up as I pleaded?"

Stiles slightly lifted Derek's chin to tease him. He leaned his head forward. "Would I feel your breath against my neck?" He puffed out a breath and Derek let out a noise halfway between a pant and a whine.

"Stiles I-"

He interrupted him. "Is that how you'd do it? Would you do all that and then between one exhalation." Another tickle of warm breath. "And the next, you'd use your teeth to rip. Out. My. Throat. Is that how you'd do it big bad?" Stiles leaned back to look into his blown eyes and moved far enough back so Derek could move away from the barrel.

"No." Derek's voice came out shaky and his mouth was dry.

Stiles made a contemplating noise. "Hm? Well then, how would you?"

Derek knew this was the moment he took back the power. The moment he shoved Stiles into submission, but remembering how his eyes glowed just moments before he held that back. "I wouldn't be able to do any of that. The moment I moved towards you, you would use your magic to restrain me."

Stiles nodded and seemed to be surprised by the knowledge he saved for later. "Okay. Good to know. Well, I already knew, good to know you know, who's in charge here."

Derek was glad to be on some what more solid footing now. "Oh no, that's not what I said at all." He let out a low growl and leaned forward as his fangs peeked from behind his lips.

He heard Stiles' heartbeat jump.

"Agree to disagree, sourwolf."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Stiles smiled so wide his eyes closed. "I will. Thanks."

"You're impossible."

"Oh come on, you wouldn't like me if I was easy. An easy friend couldn't hold your attention."

Derek furrowed his eyebrows and counted the moles on Stiles' face as he realized, no he wouldn't.

Stiles rolled his eyes and pushed him away as he spoke. "Fuck off if you're about to say-" His voice imitated Derek's as he put on a scowly face. "We're not friends."

"I wasn't going to say that."

"Oh yeah, what were you going to say?"

"I would like you if you were less annoying."

Stiles' mouth dropped open and Derek laughed.

"You know you're cute when you're indignant. Less cute when you talk though."

Stiles' face went red as he turned away.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, we should get going." He deflected.

"Oh, you can do all of that earlier, but I call you cute and you look like you were left in the sun for days?"

Stiles turned back around with a finger pointed up, but his mouth opened without any words coming out.

"Get your finger out of my face or I'll bite it."

Stiles shov-

"Ow!" He quickly pulled his finger back as a self satisfied smirk found its way to Derek's face. "You bit my finger!"

"You shoved your finger in my face. I told you I would bite it."

"What are you, five?!"

Derek shrugged.

Stiles cradled his finger to his chest as he glared at Derek. "First, you make fun of me by calling me cute, then you brutally bite off my finger. What's next? Are you going to stab me?"

"I wasn't making fun."

That reply wasn't expected and the shock showed itself on his face. He looked apprehensive. "People don't call me cute. They just don't."

Derek stepped closer and cradled his face as his thumb stroked the freckles on his cheeks. "They should. It's true. Even when you're red as a cherry, you're cute." Derek sounded distracted. "Especially then."

"Your ass is cute." Stiles inwardly cursed that his response to compliments was humor.

Derek snorted a laugh and let his hand drop. "Why, thank you. I do believe Jacob has mentioned it when he thought I couldn't hear."

"Well, I've got to respect a man that knows a true asset when he sees one."

"Was that a pun?"

Stiles put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm about to tell you something very important, it's always a pun."

They both smiled and Derek realized his cheeks were starting to hurt from it. And of course that's when reality had to crash down on him.

"Well, it was nice to know you sourwolf." He gave an exaggerated bow and Derek's stomach flipped.

"Wait, are you leaving?"

Stiles tilted his head. "Yeah. I mean my sale was a bust, thanks for that by the way. No moonshine tonight, I got you instead." His face lit up. "Maybe that's what I'll call you. Moonshine."

Derek wrinkled his nose at the name.

"Anyways, I have to head back." He pointed behind himself.

"I'm headed that way too. We can walk together."

Stiles looked at the two barrels. "I think you'll be slower, besides you don't don't want to be caught out with the likes of me. This time already has been a risk for you."

Stiles started to turn.

"Wait! I just- I was going to ask for your help. They are very heavy and it didn't look like much work for you to lift one before." He threw in one final plea. "I'm tired."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Honestly, what would you do without me." That same yellow flowed around him again, and the barrels were both lifted up.

"You didn't have to- I could've taken one."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "It's not like they're heavy."

Derek grumbled. "They are, you just cheat."

"This isn't cheating. It takes just as much effort, if not more."

Derek was intrigued. He had heard stories about sparks and their power. Given their rarity he didn't think he'd ever meet one. "How does it work? I mean, I just assumed you waggled your fingers and it, I don't know, happened."

Stiles gave him an unimpressed look. "You thought magic... Just happens?"

He shrugged.

Stiles sighed and began walking. "There are different types of magic, but rarely does it ever just, happen. Every type of magic takes years of mastery and skill. Though you can have an aptness for it, a predisposition. Something that makes magic just," Stiles paused, seemingly searching inside himself for the answer. "Belong. Magic just belongs inside some people. It is meant to flow, to work and be inside of some people. Like me. And like how being a werewolf belongs inside of you. Its not a part of you, it is you."

Stiles stopped walking and Derek did as well.

Easy as breathing Stiles' eyes turned scarlet and flames reflected from his eyes into Derek's while he watched with interest. Stiles raised a closed fist and slowly opened it to let loose little cinders. They rose up and as Derek watched their dance they took shape of a bird. It swooped and soared, but soon enough they took on a new shape. A man's face slowly came into focus. As they settled Derek recognized the face as his own. His image morphed and he saw his eyes gather most of the burning particles and it changed his face to a look of anger. Just as it looked like it was about to yell something, all of the cinders instantly gathered into his eyes. In the next moment, the two spots were gathering. As the groups collided they shot up into the air to once again form the bird, this time wings spread wide. Derek heard a ear piercing screech, but it only reverberated inside of his own chest. Just like that, they disappeared leaving not even a trail of smoke in their wake.

"Neat party trick, huh?" His eyes went back to normal and he resumed walking, like he hadn't just changed Derek's worldview.

"That was bloody brilliant!"

Stiles shrugged. "You should see what I can do with a glass of water."

Derek's eyes shone. "I bet that's brilliant too."

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks."

"That bird was beautiful. And it really looked like my face!" Derek faltered and seemed unsure, "Except, why-why did it look like that? So angry and hateful?"

Stiles looked away. "That's how you looked last time I saw you. Usually, it latches onto a vibrant memory of someone's face."

Derek solemnly nodded. "Right. I'm sorry about that. I shoul-"

Stiles waved a hand. "It doesn't matter. Who cares."

"I do. I treated you unjustly. I apologize."

Stiles looked over at him. "I accept." He looked down at his hands for a second. "Well, I should go."

Derek looked at him with alarm. Perhaps his apology was lackluster. "But-" After his objection he took in the scene of a familiar back alley. "Oh. We're already here."

Stiles scoffed. "You hadn't noticed, sourwolf?"

Derek looked sheepish. He hadn't. He was so wrapped up in Stiles he could've walked straight into a pole and he wouldn't have noticed.

"I just- we barely got to talk."

"My favorite fruit is oranges, I love freshly baked pastries, but I can only get the best ones in a land far away from here, and I've had a long day. These barrels are heavy. There, those are some things about me." Stiles gently set down the barrels and the yellow magic faded after Derek opened the door for him.

Derek nodded. "Right. Of course. I know they are, I haul them every week." He hoped he picked up on what he was trying to ask for.

"I bid you farewell, sourwolf."

The frustration at him leaving without the insurance of another meeting got to him. "Goodnight pirate."

The pirate's face closed off at that. He quickly turned on his heels to leave.

Shit. This alley must be cursed. He always said the wrong thing there.

"Stiles?"

He didn't turn. "Yes?"

"My favorite fruit is apples."

When Stiles' face came into view it had a soft smile. "Sleep well, moonshine."

"You as well, Captain." Stiles face was shocked and pleased at Derek using his proper title for the first time.

Stiles walked away again and Derek reluctantly went in the door.

Damn it. He would never see him again.

Damn it. As Stiles walked away he thought of how he should've made plans for another meeting, but he hadn't.

Derek fell asleep and for the first time, dreamed of images in fire and ashes that didn't end in heartbreak.

---

Mr. Bramington and his son came sharply at three. Derek was able to make his excuses as he kept himself busy while they drank. Jacob, upon realizing his father must've greatly exaggerated his interest, left with his father in tow.

The evening passed in a flash after that as Derek's mood was high and the bar was full. He cleaned tables diligently as his mother poured for the evening crowd.

A patron made a joke and he smiled back. He was about to crack back when he looked up at the swinging doors clattering open.

His smile faltered and he nearly dropped the jug he was carrying.

His mother shot him a look and quickly wiped her hands on her apron as she weaved the tables to get to their intruder.

He had to get upstairs. Lily had not learned proper control over sensing pack distress, so his father had no way of knowing what was happening.

Over his shoulder he heard, "Captain Whittemore, have you come for a drink?"

At that name being uttered the tavern fell to a hush.

"No. I'm here on business."

Derek felt the bile at the back of his throat as he reached the girl's room where they were studying.

His dad looked up from where he was pointing at the book in front of Lily with a smile. One that faded as soon as he saw Derek's state. He instantly knew something was wrong.

"Where is your mother?" He asked urgently.

"Downstairs with the Captain."

The color drained from his face.

Thomas instantly shot up and grabbed Lily's hand. He drug her over to his room and Derek could hear him grabbing their packed bag from under his bed and handing Derek's to Lily.

His father similarly went to his room and grabbed his parents bag.

From downstairs Derek heard, "What sort of business?" His mother's voice cool as a river.

"The official kind."

They both rushed back into the room and suddenly Derek couldn't hear anything except the blood pumping in his ears.

He could see the commotion of them moving around him, but could not bring himself to move.

He saw Thomas sling a bag around himself, then he helped Lily pull out one from under Laura's bed.

He saw his father grab a knife out of his bag and he wondered if people were about to bust down the door. If his father could hear them he should be able to, but he just couldn't focus. His mind felt foggy as he watched his father open and lean out of the window. He saw him stick the knife under one of the letters on the sign right outside the window. He pried until the H came off. He knew there was a reason for it. His mind was just so blurry right now.

Aven. That was a flower. Right? Derek was grasping to figure out what it meant. It didn't make sense. The letter now laid on the window sill and it meant something. Laura would know. Maybe it was about Laura?

His father was now tucking the knife into his waistband and talking to him. Was he talking too? No, he didn't think so. It didn't even feel like he was breathing. What was his father trying to say? Something about his mother. Was she here? He tried to shake his head to clear it. To bring his father's or his mother's voice back into focus, but he could not. He tried desperately to bring air into his lungs, but once again he couldn't.

Suddenly he felt a small hand on his arm and the world snapped back into focus. "Derek, you need to calm down."

He looked into Thomas' eyes and they were set with determination. "You need to help us. We can't hear down there, but you can. What is mom saying? Can you tell us?"

Derek nodded even though he wasn't sure he could do much of anything right now. It was taking all of his strength to just remain standing. He focused on the hand holding his arm then on his mother's voice. "She's taking the Captain to the storeroom."

"What else?"

He still felt a bit dazed. He didn't answer Thomas.

He saw him moving and he brought Lily closer.

"Ow!" He felt the pinpricks of tiny claws.

"What else Derek?!"

He felt his head clear. Oh God, he needed to protect them. The Captain would kill them. He looked at his little brother and cousin. He was instantly dropped back into the panic of the moment as his senses returned fully. "She's taking him around. He's... looking for something?"

His father's eyebrows pulled together. "What?"

He listened and tried to catch their words, but it was hard with them in the heavily insulated room. He finally pieced enough words together.

"He's looking for moonshine?"

His father deflated and he looked two seconds away from a heart attack. "Thank the gods." There was an uneasy set to his shoulders still, but he wasn't as distraught. "I should go down. Derek stay here, and if you hear us tell you, you take them and you run."

He dutifully nodded.

His father went downstairs and the three of them sat huddled together, a kid under each of his arms, tensely till Derek heard the guards and the Captain leave. Lily started shaking and he just held her tighter. Derek hadn't realized how scared he was till he saw his mother enter and his claws vanished from where they were buried in his thighs.

At the sight of her, Thomas started to sob. His parents quickly joined them on the floor where Derek was leaning against Laura's bed. They wrapped them up in a hug and just sat there for a couple minutes.

Lily's timid barely used voice broke the silence. "Safe?"

Derek pulled her onto his lap as his mother kissed her forehead.

"Safe."

She stopped trembling and nodded.

His mother rose to her feet and Derek wanted to pull her back down.

"I have to go to the meeting place. Laura would've been done by now and she would've seen the sign. She'll be waiting."

The only thing keeping him from asking his mother to stay was the need to see his sister.

When they went back downstairs the bar was empty besides Mark who had reached across the bar to serve himself.

As his mother moved to leave his father stopped her. "Maybe I should go, love. I'm less noticeable than you. And you should stay with the kids."

She considered for a moment. "Alright. But hurry."

He nodded then walked up to her. They briefly rested their heads together then kissed. "I'll be back soon, dear."

He was out the door.

They helped their mother clean up the bar as they waited.

Derek was flipping a chair over as the doors burst open and a teary eyed Laura froze at the door. After seeing them alive and unharmed she ran closer and swept the two youngest into her arms. Derek moved closer and he was brought into the hug as well.

"I saw the sign and I thought- I thought I'd never see you again." Her voice was shaky.

Their mother smoothed down her wild hair. "Did you leave your father behind?"

Just as she finished speaking. The doors burst open yet again. His father was out of breath as he braced on his knees. "Don't worry about your old man. Just run all the way back why don't you."

There had been so many people bursting through the doors these days ever since Sti-

Derek's heart dropped out of his chest.

They were here looking for moonshine. Stiles sold moonshine. Derek was with him last night.

This was all his fault.

Derek didn't know whether he felt more guilt or more anger.

He suddenly thought about Stiles warning him that being around him could be dangerous, then he thought of the dirty pirate some how telling Jackson about them.

He now felt nothing but rage and contempt for the pirate.

He started to stalk off to his room, but Laura caught his arm. She looked to their mother. "What are we to do?"

His mother and father looked at each other for a few moments. "We will stay, for awhile. To leave immediately would arouse suspicion, but if they call again we will leave. If this is just about erroneous moonshine rumors then this will blow over. We just stay quiet and calm. Go to sleep."

Derek was anything but calm as he laid down for bed.

He sat stewing for a half hour before he heard a groan. "I need you to stop Derek. I can't sleep. It won't help being angry or feeling guilty."

Derek didn't know what to say.

He heard a sigh and covers rustling.

Thomas settled in beside him and he instantly felt the comfort of his brother.

"Do you want a story?"

Thomas laid his head on Derek's shoulder. "No. I think I just want to be here."

Derek knew exactly what he meant so his just kissed his forehead and said, "Okay."

Less than ten minutes later he heard shuffling in the girl's room before their door opened and in walked Laura holding a sleeping Lily to her chest. "Move over Der-bear."

It had been awhile since he had heard the teasing nickname and didn't care for it, but he complied nonetheless.

All four of them settled in.

He heard his mother check all the doors and windows. She came to check on them.

She gave all four of them a kiss on the forehead before saying goodnight.

Derek slept restlessly. If it wasn't Thomas kicking him it was Laura's snoring. Lily was a sticky weight on his chest. Good God, that kid was a furnace. He was already awake when the noise started from the alley, but all the wolves fell quickly out of slumber.

Thomas awoke with a look of alarm. "What is it?"

Laura went to stand, but Derek stopped her. "You stay with them. It's probably the raccoons again."

He met his mother in the hall.

"I'll check tonight Derek."

He felt a bit of panic bubble in his chest. "No, it's okay I can. It's probably that pest again."

"I want to make sure tonight." She looked like she was listening to the back alley.

Shit. He hoped she was focused enough on the noise outside and not on his heart. "I looked out the window. It's just raccoons."

She looked at him for a moment and he tried to be calm. "Okay."

He nodded and went downstairs.

He took a steadying breath before opening the door.

The pirate's mouth opened with some quip or another at the ready. Derek quickly put a finger against his own mouth to tell him to be silent. He moved his hands in a way that he thought looked like magic using. Stiles raised and eyebrow and rolled his eyes. Which turned black and wispy like they had before.

The smoke cleared and he spoke. "There, now no one can hea-"

Derek had him up against the opposite wall by his throat before he even finished his sentence. The pirate's eyes went wide as Derek lifted him slightly off the ground. He started to try and break the hold as Derek's claws started to make beads of blood drip down his neck. "Do you enjoy toying with people?! With their families?! Well, I've had enough of your sick games, you bastard! All this time you try and get me to trust you, but then you do this?! Why even bother?!" Derek's eyes were murderous.

The pirate was desperately trying to take in a breath. "St-stop. W-wh-what?"

He thought of how scared he had been earlier, Derek's resolve didn't falter. "I should kill you for what you did to my family."

The confusion in the pirate's eyes seemed out of place to him. He let up just a bit.

The human's nails dug into his arms. "Do-don't ma-make me d-"

Derek pressed harder again. If he was innocent why wasn't he using his magic to help himself? Did he feel guilty?

"P-please."

With a growl Derek let him drop to the floor. He fell to his hands and knees and took in great gulps of air.

In-between deep breaths he spoke. "What. The. Hell."

Looking at his prone form Derek wanted to kick him till he heard bones crack. "You are the scum of the earth. You prey on innocent people no matter how much it hurts others."

Stiles shakily made it back to his feet. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Derek whirled on him and the pirate's arms whipped up placatingly.

"Don't play dumb!"

"Listen to my heart. Does it skip? I have no idea what you're talking about."

Derek's eyebrows pulled together. He thought back. How would the Captain have known if the pirate hadn't told him? "That doesn't make any sense. He knew. He knew we talked. How did he know?"

Stiles looked as confused as Derek. "Who? How did who know?"

Derek sneered, "The Captain. He came to my bar because of you."

Stiles' eyes went wide. "What? No. That doesn't make any sense. He couldn't have not withou- What exactly happened?"

"He came looking for your pisswater, as if we would sell it." The confusion morphed back to anger.

Stiles let out a relieved breath. "Oh."

That boiled his blood. "Oh?! Oh?! Like he couldn't have found out about us?! Like we couldn't have been forced to flee our home?! Like it isn't important that my entire family could've been torn apart and killed?!" His voice rose as fearful tears fell.

"No. Oh, like I'm glad he didn't know about you. Oh, like I'm glad you and your family are safe. Oh, like I'm glad you weren't forced to leave."

Derek felt like someone had put all of his emotions into a cup and mixed them. "What? How- why do you say things like that, and yet you leave me so confused? I always feel so many different things around you. I feel like I should trust you, even when I know it is not so."

The pirate's face turned into a soft smile. "Feel all you would like, but know this, I would never, ever put your family in harms way. I would die before telling anyone something that would harm you or them."

Derek just kept falling deeper and deeper into the darkness. "Why? What have we done to earn such fierce allegiance?"

Stiles looked into his eyes and he swore he saw a flash of guiding light. "Because, you exist in a way that is different. Someone that has everyone against them needs at least one person on their side." He squinted at him. "And I don't think you've ever had that person, moonshine."

Derek decided he believed him. The fight left his shoulders and he let the anger fizzle. He replied, "You hurt me. You hurt me because you exist in a way that is different, but similar to me. You hurt me because you have decided to care for me, and I don't know what that means. Or even if I can allow it." He stared directly into Stiles' eyes. "I cannot yet decide if you are a poison or a salve. If you are meant to be my healing or my damnation. A kiss of grace-" Derek looked to his lips. "Or the silver tongue of the devil."

Stiles' arm reached up, but it froze as Derek looked to the side and continued, "Because I was around you my family could've lost everything."

His arm dropped.

"I am sorry Miguel. Truly."

Derek looked back intensely. "Are you bad for me?"

Stiles wanted nothing more than to say no. "I could be. I do not know."

Derek sighed. "My family I-"

Stiles' smile did not reach his eyes. "It's okay. I know. I understand."

When Stiles' hand cupped his cheek he closed his eyes against the feelings welling inside of him. He didn't see it, but he felt the soft press of lips against his other cheek.

"Goodbye, my moonshine."

He had only met him a hand full of times, but Derek had this pull towards him. It felt like if he let him walk away he'd spend the rest of his life regretting it. He didn't want to see Stiles leave. "Goodbye, Captain."

When Derek opened his eyes he saw a faint trace of black smoke. His spell was gone, just like him.

"Derek?" His mother's voice called out from the steps. "What's taking so long?"

Derek wiped under his eyes and walked back inside. "Nothing, Mom."

She frown as soon as she saw him, then her face turned surprised. "You were crying?"

Of course she'd smell his tears. "Nothing Mama. I just hurt him and I didn't mean to." Derek felt the sting of how true those words were.

Her face softened. "It looks like he hurt you too. You have too kind of a heart, sweet cub. Sometimes we hurt things we don't mean to. That doesn't make us bad. It just makes us people. Everybody hurts things Derek. I'm sure he's fine." She pulled him into a hug and raked her fingers through his hair.

"He just- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." He crumpled farther into her.

Stiles was the first person he'd ever had any sort of connection to, and he messed it up somehow. He didn't even know if he was trustworthy, but his absence stung like he was important. Like he was a friend.

Derek had only been friends with Issac, Erica, and Boyd, and they had to leave him too. He probably hurt them too. He almost hurt his family by not being careful. Why was he so bad at this.

Maybe he was the poison.

His mother pulled back and he put on a smile.

She looked unsure. "Is something else the matter? Is there som-"

"I'm fine. Just too tired I think." He started for the stairs.

"Derek."

He looked back.

"You know there is nothing you could ever do that I wouldn't forgive you for, right?"

"I kno-"

"And perhaps you should start forgiving yourself for things that were and are out of your control. I don't know or understand what has been going on with you, but I still know you. You are good, even when you try to convince yourself you are not. You put the weight of the world on your shoulders son, if I can't convince you to put it down, will you at least share it with someone? Laura or I wou-"

"I'm fine. Truly mother. Just a bad night." He knew she wouldn't believe him, but he hoped she'd let him have his secrets.

She looked like she would fight him, but then thought better of it. "Alright. Get some sleep. I love you Derek."

"Love you too Mom."

Derek laid awake wondering how he knew if Stiles truly didn't tell the Captain.

---

"And that's where you left it?!" Scott sounded outraged.

"I'm a liability to his family, Scott."

"So what? It's true love!" He was practically shouting.

Cora walked in on the wrong moment. "Is he trying to convince ye to marry him again?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "No. What did you need Cor?" Beside Scott, she was his closest deckhand. Throughout their years of searching they grew close. Through every false lead, every person trying to dupe them for money, they stood together never letting their faith waver. She had become family, just as Scott was. Like all of his crew.

"Me and Malia are shovin off."

"Malia and I. Okay I'll be up in a minute to send you off."

Scott went to bed with one final beseeching look.

---

The next week passed quickly and without event. His family let out a breath at their continued safety.

Derek settled back into his normal routine like he'd never left it, and soon enough he was wondering if his loneliness invented the pirate. If he was some manifested moral argument that was warring inside of him.

Just like his magic, he had left no trace. He had half a mind to ask Mr. Bramington if he remembered him.

He was back to the rush of the day and the quietness of the night. The anger was still in the back of him, but he embraced everything with an air of detachment and acceptance.

Very few things mattered to him anymore. But among those that did, were his nightly stories. Thomas had applauded him on including more humor in them lately. He didn't have it in him to explain about how it was the pirate that really brought the humor. Another thing he never cared for before was pouring a glass of whiskey, now it was one of his favorite parts of the day. Every time someone asked for rum he looked at them, just to be sure it wasn't him. One day a patron thrilled to be done with the work week threw open the doors and Derek nearly broke his neck snapping it up so fast. He smiled at a pun his father made and he had to assure them all that he had smiled like that recently, he was sure of it, maybe just not in front of them in a long time.

Derek didn't know if his life was better or worse, he just knew it was changed. The kind of change that hurts to remember before and aches to think of what ifs.

If there was an ache in his shoulders he didn't feel it. It was almost as if his magic lingered. As if it helped Derek carry the barrels, even now.

He was looking forward to resting when out of the corner of his eye he saw a blurred shadow darting in an alley. He was instantly alarmed. He hastily put down both barrels and tried to squash the part of his brain that invented the swish of a familiar brown coat. "Who goes there?"

There was silence.

A crown's guard would've announced their presence. "I saw you moving, do not make me come over there."

An unbelievably high and shrilly voice spoke, "Oh, it's just silly me. I forgot the wash on the line."

There was no way that was actually a woman's voice.

"Come out."

"I'm in my nighty you pervert."

Derek scented the air and as familiar spicy soap, rum, salt, and something unidentifiable filled his nose, happiness filled his chest. "I already know it's you. Come out here, Stiles."

That shrilly voice again. "No, it's not."

Derek listened and sure enough, he picked out a recognizable rabbiting heartbeat. He wondered when the pirate's heartbeat had become recognizable to him. He smiled and replied in a similar high tone. "Yes it is."

It must've caught him off guard because Derek heard his bubbling laugh from the dark alley.

Slowly he emerged. "I swear, I did not seek you out."

Derek had a wide smile. "I gathered that from your most convincing ruse."

He crossed his arms. "I was pressed for time okay! You snuck up on me."

"You must be horrible at stealth. I've ran into you numerous times at night now."

Stiles' smile faded. "I'm very good at stealth actually. But I should go." He had a regretful look upon his face.

"Wait." Derek wanted to reach out to grab him. To make him stay.

"I'm sorry, moonshine. I don't wan- Your family. We mustn't press fate. It's not just the captain we have to worry about, the guard patrol."

Derek felt a hot stone in his gut. "Right. Of course. Were you on a delivery?" He didn't actually want to know. He didn't want to find out how many of their customers he was stealing, but he didn't want to be without his company again so soon.

"Yes. Business is booming. I really should depart, moonshine."

"Why don't you leave?"

The pirate looked confused and hurt.

"No! I mean not here, the port. Pirates don't stay in one port for long. Why do you? Surely you risk capture?"

"I am looking for someone. It is imperative that I find them, and it is my greatest hope that I will find them here."

"So, you cannot leave?"

"Do you want me to?"

That had been what he'd been hinting towards, but now that he said it he knew it not to be so. "I think it would be best for my heart if I had to stop saying goodbye to you."

"But do you want me to?"

Derek looked away and he then realized how unfair a question he had asked. "Sorry, nevermind."

He started to walk away when his voice froze him. "I want, to be able to talk to you the entire night. Just the two of us making each other laugh like this world isn't trying to break us. God, how you manage to make me laugh." There was a pause. "That is what I truly want."

Stiles tried to find his voice. "But we cannot have what we want, can we?"

"No."

With great difficulty he continued to walk away.

He was almost to the next alley when an idea hit him. He turned and ran back to where Derek was picking up the barrels.

Derek looked at him in confusion.

"What if no one could tell it was me?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"What if I looked completely different? Could we see each other then? If no one knew it was me?"

"I suppose? But if your disguise is anything like your voice change, then I don't think it will be very good." Derek smiled.

"Shut up you jackass. I'm serious. Would that work?"

Derek considered it. "If you looked nothing like yourself? Yes, I think it would."

Stiles' eyes were wild with happiness. He rushed Derek and hugged him. Derek wanted to let the barrels go crashing to the floor so he could wrap his arms around him instead. Stiles stepped back.

"I will meet you here, same time, next week. Okay?"

Derek wanted to say no, to have the strength for it, but he couldn't. He craved to feel the way he did around Stiles constantly. "You will find me here."

---

The week could not pass fast enough and Thomas started to wonder about the stories he told. They all included a heart touching reunion or forbidden meeting of some sort and it took Derek quite a bit of effort not to die from embarrassment when he pointed it out.

He made himself wait to leave the distillery so he'd only be ten minutes early, but he found himself dashing through the streets. He waited fifteen minutes and wondered if the pirate would show. If maybe he changed his mind, if he had left. At twenty minutes he stared at the barrels wondering how long he could put off picking them up. It had been thirty minutes and he was about to leave when he heard someone approach. His heart instantly soared.

"What took you so long? Did you take a nap, you lazy bastard?"

An old man came out of the shadows. "What did you call me?" He was bent over and had a crotchety look on his face.

Derek instantly paled. "I am so sorry sir! I thought you were someone else!"

The old man's lips started to turn up till he let out a rumbustious laugh.

Derek looked confused. He wondered if maybe the man had had a bit too much drink. He took a breath in to see if he could smell the alcohol.

He did smell rum, but there was another scent that struck him.

"Stiles?!"

The man rolled his eyes and instantly Derek knew it was him.

"What is the point of all this if you just go on saying my name like that?"

Derek check to see if he could hear anyone around. He didn't. "My gods it is you! How?"

He pulled out a pendant from under his shirt. It had the faint trace of black smoke leaking from it. He held it in his palm and closed his eyes. Between one blink and the next Stiles was standing in front of him. "I do have a few tricks, moonshine."

Derek came closer and looked at the rock. "And you'll just enchant this every time we are near? Will you always look different to me?"

Stiles shook his head. "No. It is still enchanted."

Derek cocked his head. "But I see you?"

"If I want someone to see through it, I just have to hold it and focus on a strong memory of them."

Derek thought for a moment. "Like with the fire bird?"

Stiles nodded.

"Did you think of the same memory?"

"How do you mean?" He asked confused.

Derek looked nervous. "Do you still think of me angered and yelling?"

Stiles smiled sweetly. "I think of the forests in your eyes and your bunny teeth."

To divert from his rising blush Derek flashed his fangs.

Stiles laughed. "Oh, don't worry, I think of those too. Just not when I'm casting magic."

There was no hiding his blush now. "My mother warned me sailors have dirty minds."

"Did she also tell you only pirates can follow through with all they say?"

Derek looked away. "Never came up."

The pirate opened his mouth.

"Do not! Leave it alone."

He laughed. "Shame. That was such a good one."

Derek felt the smile on his face slide into place and he relaxed. "What took you so long?"

"I received a message." Dejection wafted through the air.

"Not good?" Derek tried to be sympathetic, even though Laura always told him he sucked at it.

"Not the best, but that doesn't matter now. Now I just want to talk to you."

Derek felt warmth curl itself into his belly, but not the harsh heat he was familiar with. It was nice, feeling like someone wanted his company.

They wandered aimlessly and talked all night.

************************

Okayyyy so hopefully I'll have the next part up in like a week. Thanks for reading!  

#Stiles #stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #magic!stiles #spark stiles #spark!stiles #Derek #derek hale #Sterek #sterek bingo 2020 #sterekbingo2020 #sterek bingo #sbrivals #sbpetnames #sbpirates #pirate!stiles #barkeep!derek #theres so much backstory and plot to this #seriously so much backstory ask veti #derek is a failwolf #he is so angsty and honestly he just needs a friend #scott mccall #allison argent #lydia martin #jackson whittemore #erica reyes #vernon boyd #alive hale family

[i-idontunderstand-things]

Transcript of 1 Man 100 Accents

I took far too long to do this, but.... it’s done now so I may as well post it. This will help me remember my fave video when it’s deleted :) 

Mark: Argentina. Ethan: Argentina. Capital of the world. When you think of Argentina you think,,,, whO WOULD GO THERE?? *giggling* Mark: I was more lookin for an accent,, more than anything,, Ethan: OH, accent, accent. Mkay, re-run. *twirls finger in air* Mark: Austria. Ethan: Austria.        Ehy mayte-  whlcum tu Aughstria - Mark: Oh god… Ethan: wAIGHT for it though,,, Mark: *laughter* Ethan: Waight until I tell yew,, the country of Aughstria,, k?? We were invited by Gehrmay dyuring the world War Twooooo,,, one??? *laughter* Then Poulanghd said “hay,, how bout we help yu out!” They came oughva, we came oughva, we had a cuppa tea as we do In Austria,,, We said “oY, Germany, mAYBE,, dONT!” N that’s when it oll ‘appened. They kicked out, and I said, “Naw, naw naw, not in the northern hemisphere, gough down to the buttom, the buttom bitch o’ the barrel.” So we went and said hello to the Australians! Commonly miscommunicated with the Austrians. BUT,, we’re not them, they’re not us.         BAck in Austria we go! Roight next to,,, GERMANY, roight next tu Pouland, r- rOIGHT next to France. Mark: Wh- what are you talking about?? *laughter* All  Iwas asking for was an accent you,,, goddamn travesty,,, you human train wreck, you cant keep one train of thought- Ethan: *waggles finger* Next one, next one- Mark: Uhhh, paupa new Guinea Ethan: *looks down* Pff-  couldn’t even tell you where that is- Mark: H- It’s funny cuz I don’t need you to-  

*laughter*

Ethan: Paupa New guinea, I think, sounds-- when I think of it-- I go “PapWAH new guinea”-  which makes me think that they might be Frennnnch…      mghh,,,     HEGLLUOGHHH-  

*both burst out laughing*

Ethan: Weglcome to Paupa New guinea. *laughter* Same as Austria---  We hagve a very similar accents to Austria!!       Wglhcoooome-  t0--  

*laughter*

Ethan: Give me one,, that really hits home- Mark: uhhh, Cuba? Ethan: Cyooba. Mark: *w h e e z e* Ethan: Capital of the cigahr- Mark: *w h e  e z e*

*laughter*

Ethan: When yu think of Cyooba,,

*L A U GH T E R*  

Ethan: When yu think of Cyooba, yu think,,, pghyooo, phyooogh, pghgoo, egl caystro, and his ssssensitive,,,, ssss,, sssIGNATURE mustache- Mark: *losing his shit* Ethan:  Yu tink of the way that he burned the money, to keep his daughter warm at night-

*demonic noises*

He was makin 3, 4, 5, 6, MILLION DOLLARS A dAY,,, selling cohcaine,, in the united states of america!!  Now, when you think, “hey, that’s not vehry cüül,” that’s when we had to embargainze them. Mark: *wheeze* Ethan: We said, “Ey Cyooba!! Back it off a little bit!! We can’t come near you, you can’t come near me, dat’s why we can’t have a shweet shweet smohky pohky,,,, anymore-”  but now- the embargus has been lifted- an’ we can go back to motherland Cyooba- and get our sweet, h o t cigars.  Widen our mouths- and we’ll go- *sucks invisibe cigar*    *coughs*  and that’s ‘ow you know-   it’s a true hghuu---  human cigar.

*laughter*

Mark: I--  I don’t understand what happens in your brain-- *laughter* it doesn’t make any sense at all-- Ethan: Well it makes perfect sense to me :) Mark: Of course it does, course it does.. Ethan: * h a c k*  Next. Mark: ..Russia. Ethan:  …. Wghlcum to Russia. *laughter* Capital of s n o w,,, and bad weather. In here we have,, big radiation poison. It makes your big rats bigger, and your sack hang lower,,, and you-- *laughter* you can’t go anywhere near tha snow.  If tha snow touches you,, you go “ohh FACK-” and then yu ded. You can’t even hh- help yourself-  *laughter* noone can touch yu, noone can hug you- what kind of life is that? Not a life worth wiving. Ghgwhhhh-  *L A U G H T E R* Which is why in nineteen eighty siiiiiiixx?? When chernobl went “Imma,,,, gonna ‘splode now,,,”  people said “FACK.”  Did you know,,, that when you think,, I think… when I think about…. CHERNOBL!! 

*uncontrollable laughter* 

Ethan: My mind says, ‘world war two, world war one, north korea! WHO KNOWS Wh-WHEN IT HAPPENED!!! But it was so SOOON- --  when it happened,, if you do the math …  which i cAnT.. *laughing* You’ll realise it was 30….. yeearrsagooooo…  1986 is when it happened…  Quick, quick do the math for me *snaps fingers* how many years ago?? Mark: 33 Ethan: When it happened, when the whole world said, “We’re going to die. We’re going to die. The llll,, the radiation was swpt up by the wind, much like the fires of…. North california-  

*laughter*

Mark: Oh god… oh god-   Ethan: And they were swept- swept- swept- swept- swept- and they went up into the smoky air,, and they… okay,, picture this alright??? One time, you’re going to bed,, and you wake up and you go pee in the night… and you see BOOM BOOM BOOM all over the place… from one… place actually. Mark: *actually suffocating from laughter* Ethan: uh,,, only one explosion. *C O U GH* ighgh- it gets me choked up sometimes- aghibfuh- it went SUPER BIG, and the whole government said,, “don’ worry about it,,, you cant…. The radiator cant ‘splode! It’s impossible!” Well listen here,, PHUCKER. IT IS!! It happened 2… years.. before 35 years ago!!!  33 years ago it happened ! Swept up by the wind,, it,, Sweden said, “Oh, we can feel it,,” and so they said “okay, we have to get it under control” they put so much sand *laughing* o- on top of it- *dissolves into laughter* Mark: your Russian accent has slipped a little bit- Ethan: yu don know anything-- Mark: *bursts out laughing* Ethan: They put some sand on top some dogs died some kids died and they tried to evacuate the WHOLE area but it was too late for them they said “ohhh yu can survive-” but now people go back,,, to BULLETS,,  *pause* Sooo,, it’s still bad there. *Mark bursts out laughing* Mark: good god, man, I’m just lookin for an accent.     You good? You good man? You good? Ethan: Wrap it up. Also Ethan: Next one. Mark: what?? Ethan: Ye, sure. Mark: Ughh, alright,, give me some Italy. Ethan: *scrunches his face up, preparing his accent,*  Alexa? Play when the moon hits your eye its a big piece of pie,, song,, Alexa: Here’s Spotify (starts playing That’s Amore) Ethan: *mumbling* fucking.. asshole… Alexa stop. Alexa: *continues playing* Ethan: *mumbling along with song* shit… *puts on baby hands, hits camera* ringalingaling, bitches fkn shit…     PAUSE!! PAUSE!! ALEXA!! PAUSEIT!! YOU STAY! You stay here ! shh! *blows kiss, gets up from table* you stay here! You don’t move a muscle! Stay! Stay. *walks away from camera, up the stairs* Mark: *to Spencer* Spenceyyy,,, you wouldn’t happen to know what happening here, would you?? Spencer: Mark: Spencer… your master has gone crazy! You need to run. Run away spencecr.. It’s not safe for you here… what the hell?? Alexa: *starts playing Lose Yourself as Ethan runs down the stairs with baby hands on* Ethan: *basically fucking turns into Eminem*  through this hole that is gaping…… *bursts out laughing* as we move farther, new world order.. *flailing arms around, knocks gum off counter* *further struggling*   Can,, can this be done?? 

Mark: *laughing in complete confusion*   Goodbye,, remember that we only have a year. Ethan: H-- *contorts face* how much time do we have left???  Ghhghg Mark: ah,, fuckin,,,  

 *timer*

#crankgameplays #unus annus

[pumpkinofthedale]

Friends... it is now.... well over 13k words and i’m maaaaybe a little over halfway done with the first chapter.... but I am a slut for positive reinforcement.... so here is another excerpt from my cronus fic (I see you and love you)

“Seriously, if you hate it that much give it back.”

“Nope, it’s crispmass and you gave me a gift. Even if it’s the worst gift anyone’s ever given me.” His words were slurred, v’s and w’s blurring together.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and leaning back against the next step up. From this angle you could see lavender from the Christmas lights bouncing off the thin membranes of his fins. And maybe it was the alcohol, or the faint nostalgic music coming from the other room, but you couldn’t help but stare. Polished orange horns shining with little rainbows dots, a small smile on his grey lips. He was breathtakingly pretty.

“At least you gave me a present I guess. None of my other asshole friends did. Like I get most of them are gutterblood trash-”

He just had to ruin the mood, didn’t he.

“Shooshooshoosh.” You grimaced and put your finger on his lips to quiet him and he froze; Stock still, eyes wide as he stared at you like a deer in the headlights. “God, you’re so fucking pretty, but literally everything that comes out of your stupid mouth is ugly.” You snapped. “So just… shut the actual fuck up for a little while.”

His fins fluttered a little and he seemed to look everywhere except directly at you. You realized after a few moments that you still had your finger on him and removed it, but didn’t look away. In the dim light of the room you could faintly see a violet flush tinting his cheeks, another one of those peculiar expressions on is face.

For a few minutes there was a blissful silence except for the muffled music as Cronus worried his bottom lip between his sharp teeth. “You uh... You really think I’m pretty….?” He asked after a while, finally turning to face you.

You shrugged, drinking some more eggnong. “Yeah. When you’re not being a complete and total d-bag, so uh… very infrequently. You’re kind of a douche a lot.”

He let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“But like... physically? You’ve got a lot going for you…. For an alien I guess. Not that I really know how you guys measure physical attractiveness. But by human standards… your aesthetic is immaculate.” You gave him an appraising look and his fins fluttered again. “But your vibes are rancid as fuck, dude.”

His lips curled back in a sneer showing off those perfectly even teeth, and you couldn’t help but wonder if trolls had orthodontics… Were those perfect teeth the product of genetics or did he have to wear braces as a kid. You failed to stifle a snicker at the thought.

It seemed to throw him off guard because the threat display dropped immediately.

“I don’t get it. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just alien braces.” You waved him off.

He gave you a quizzical look, but didn’t press you for any more details. He fell silent once more, staring down into the depths of the mug in his hands, fingers fidgeting and clenching. The Christmas music hung heavy in the air.

The snow’s coming down

I’m watching it fall

Lots of people around

Baby please come home

A pang of went through your heart and your grip on your eggnog tightened….

“So where’s this boyfriend you keep talking about?” Cronus asked. “Afraid I’d steal him away from you if he came?” He raised an eyebrow, lopsided grin growing on his face.

You swallowed, sighing and closing your eyes, trying to drown out the Christmas music through sheer force of will.

“He uh… he’s in Minnesota.”

“Gesundheit.”

A soft laugh escaped your throat. “Halfway ‘cross the country.” You explained.

“Oh shit… What’s he doing out there on crispmas?” You chanced a glance over at him, and were surprised to see his brow furrowed, head tilted… he looked… genuinely concerned.

“He lives out there… so does his family.” You were thankful when your voice didn’t crack or waver. “I was supposed to go visit him, but y’know,” You shrugged, “Life happens.”

“Shit, chief, so you’re tellin’ me,” He paused to let out a bewildered half chuckle. “You’re tellin’ me you’re in a relationship and you still ain’t getting any...?” He made an odd, but recognizably lewd gesture with his hand.

“Relationships are about more than sex, Cronus.” You mumbled, trying not to think about the fact that you were going to be very, very alone this Christmas.

“Well, yeah. I know that.” He rolled his eyes. “But like… don’t you get lonely?”

Your jaw clenched, you were simultaneously way too drunk and not drunk enough for this conversation. “Nope. Never.”

Loneliness whom? You do not know her. (If you tell yourself enough, it’ll be true. That’s how emotions work, right?)

He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing as he searched you for something.

Ah fuck, was he making an insight check? Is that what insight checks looked like? Did you roll high enough on your deception?

“Humans are fuckin’ weird as hell.” The sea-troll said after a few moments. “I just don’t get it. Like what kind of quadrant are you even in that that sort of distance makes sense? I’d say flushed but you ain’t even pailing so what’s the point of it?”

“Pailing?” What the fuck kind of bullshit….

“Sex.” Cronus opened his mouth as if to say more, but closed it with an exasperated huff instead. He definitely looked like he wanted to keep probing you (heh) for more information, but he just stared into the contents of his mug.

I’d hold back this tear

But it’s Christmas day

Baby please come home

Baby please come home

Michael Buble finally finished his pining, and were immediately assaulted by Elvis pleading with Santa to bring his baby back to him.

Fuck… you could just not catch a break tonight.

The fuckboy next to you was unusually silent, leaving you stewing in your own thoughts like some sort of asshole without distracting you. How absolutely inconsiderate of him.

Finally an overtly religious Christmas classic started playing, tacky, respectable Christmas music that wasn’t constantly reminding you that your boyfriend was halfway across the country and your family was on a different continent.

Actually... a few songs passed (which you’d begun humming along to) before Cronus spoke again.

“Why doesn’t anyone like me?”  

His voice was soft as he stared longingly into the other room, past the set of french glass doors where the rest of the party was; silhouettes of people mingling and muffled laughter. “I… I know people don’t like me, I just don’t get why. I try so, so hard… and I just can’t figure out what people want. I….” He trailed off.

You watched him for a moment, but he never stopped gazing through the glass.

“Do you want an honest answer?” Normally, you would revel in the chance to make an exhaustive list of his many flaws, but the expression on his face was so different from what you were used to, and the warmth of Bing Crosby’s voice made you pause.

And you think you may have finally figured out what Cronus was about.

He looked at you with big violet eyes, chewing on his bottom lip, then nodded.

And everything about him hit just a little too close to home.

“Well,” You took a deep breath, “I… I think I get you now. Where you’re coming from at least… because I’ve been there before. And I guess I want to help you.” And began to explain to him exactly why he was such an unlikable bastard starting with the callous way he treated his friends, blatant attempts at manipulation, his casual use of what you’re pretty sure are slurs, or at least really rude words, how there’s nothing genuine about how he presents himself, finishing on a softer note with the overwhelming amount of body spray and cologne he wore.

And to his credit, he just sat there and listened (though his fins drooped more and more with each new bullet point).

You did your best to be as constructive as possible, but the increasingly dejected look on his face left you feeling… less satisfied than how you would have imagined a moment like this would feel. When you finished, you couldn’t help but reach down and take his hand in your own, threading your fingers together.

He was cold to the touch, skin smooth besides a few thin ridges along the sides of his fingers. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing just a bit, squeezing your hand back tight enough to almost be uncomfortable.

You sat like that for a little while, hand in hand

You took another sip of your eggnog, starting to get a little sick of the taste.

Cronus’ eyes were glassy as though he was blinking back tears, and you felt kind of bad. It was definitely something that he had to hear, and you’d tried to do it as tactfully as possible… but you were very drunk, and you weren’t great with words or comforting or emotions even when you weren’t.

Fuck… you’re pretty sure you heard him sniffle a little.

“If I’m really so awful, why’d you even come over here?” His voice wavered a little, but didn’t crack, staring down into his hot toddy (that you had so painstakingly prepared and was probably delicious as hell and not at all disgusting like Cronus kept insisting).

You took a moment, breathing deeply and giving his hand a squeeze.

“Because no one deserves to be alone on Christmas.” He finally looked back at you again, violet eyes locking with your own… damn even when he was a wreck he was pretty. You wished you were half that pretty when you were having an existential crisis.

And before you even realized what you were doing, you had brought his hand to your lips to place a chaste kiss to his knuckles.

It couldn’t have lasted for more than half a second, but you had never seen anyone look so incredibly flustered in their life. His eyes went wide, almost round like egg yolks with little purple gems in them, a deep violet flush on his cheeks, fins flicking. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water (you would have laughed if you hadn’t been too drunk to realize the appropriateness of the analogy), but all that came out was a shaky exhale.

Cronus looked away and buried his face in his forearm, a very alien clicking sound coming from his throat, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You know I really thought we had a good black rapport…. I thought you hated me….” He mumbled after a minute with a little drunk giggle.

Well he wasn’t wrong… you definitely hated him. Or at least… you hated everything he represented. Or… you thought you did. “Well, I mean you definitely weren’t my favorite person in the world…. But hate’s a little harsh.” (To say out loud.)

He snorted. “Oh I was definitely waxin’ pitch for ya. I thought that’s why you gave me this gross drink.”

“It’s delicious, and if you keep insulting my beautiful concoction I’m gonna get mad.”

His laugh was breathy, “No, it’s legitimately disgusting as hell.” The troll chanced a glance at you, cheeks still flushed a bit, a candid, lopsided smile on his face. “’m not even pitch flirting anymore, this is the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

#cronus ampora #You know i started writing this fic as like... mindless smut #but then i got more and more invested #like... the smut aint coming for at least another probably 20k words and i hate myself for it #because i wanted to flush out his stupid character #i just want him to get better before being rewarded.... #but seriously its getting ridiculous how long this is just so i can write smut #like i even have branching off pieces i want to write #i hate this #but also i love it #i just wish i could write faster #but i get tired easily #i'm gonna try to finish the 22nd page tonight #w34ry words #homestuck #longpost

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Meant To Be: Part 3

Pairings: Machine Gun Kelly x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drug use.

Word Count: 3,930

A/N: Y’all can thank @wings-of-a-raven for this one….

Part 1 / Part 2

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

You were board out of your skull, scrolling through your Instagram feed, in the completely empty road side stand- which was unusual for the middle of a Saturday afternoon. Having just finished lunch, five month old Gage was napping peacefully beside you in his pack and play like he did every day. Without looking, you reached out to flip to the next song on your iPod, not wanting to listen to country at the moment, and continued to scroll through your Instagram feed as ’27’ started playing through the small iHome speakers.

“You still listen to my music.” Your stomach dropped and your head whipped up as Colson stood in the open door frame and put his hands in his jeans pockets. “Hey, (Y/N).” You sat shell shocked and your heart pounded in your chest for a moment, before you found your feet and stormed over to him.

“You stupid…” You growled as you shoved him as hard as you could. “Selfish… Ignorant… fucking prick!” He barely stumbled as you punctuated each word with another shove. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!” You burst into tears as he wrapped you in his arms and nodded his head.

“I know.” He whispered as he tangled his fingers in your hair, pulled you impossibly closer, and rested his cheek on the top of your head. “I know.”

“I needed you!” You sobbed as you held onto his shirt for dear life as if he would disappear again if you dared to let him go. “Colson…”

“I’m here.” He soothed as he pulled back with tears in his eyes. “Baby…”

“No…” You said as you shook your head and forced yourself to take a step back to save your heart. “Fuck you. You have no Goddamn right…”

“You need to leave.” Junior said as he stepped out of the back room to see what was going on. “Now.”

“Junior, stay out of it!” You shouted as you pointed at your brother. “Who the fuck do you think you are…”

“(Y/N), I’m fuckin’ tryin’ here.” 

“I don’t give a fuck what you’re trying to do!” You roared as Gage started screaming behind you. “Leave, Kels. Leave now.”

“I’m not leaving.” He said as he quickly side stepped around you and boldly picked up his son. 

“No!”

“You better put that baby down.” Ross said evenly as he cocked his shot gun from the back of the store.

“Daddy, put it down!”  You screeched in fear as you moved between your dad and the two men that held your heart together… most of the time. “Give me… my son.”

“Not until you talk to me.” He said as he gently bounced his son in his arms. “Just talk to me, baby girl. Please. You can yell all you want…”

“Oh, I’m about to do much more than yell if you don’t give me back my son!” With a defeated sigh, he turned his head and gently kissed Gage’s forehead. Your heart broke for him as he whispered ‘Daddy loves you’ to the little boy before he unwillingly handed him over to you. With a huff, you turned on your heel and stormed out back as you soothed your son.

“You have two seconds to follow her before I change my mind and put a buckshot in your head.” Your dad grumbled when Kels didn’t move. With a small nod, he walked quickly, and closed the back door behind him.

“I saw you die.” He whispered as he leaned against the side of your dad’s pick up while you sat down sideways in the bed to look at him.

“And I needed you.” You said with a nod as you rocked Gage in your arms to try to get him back to sleep. “More than I ever needed you before.”

“I was scared.”

“And I wasn’t?” You snapped as you looked at him, disbelievingly. “I overdosed, Colson, and you weren’t there. I found out I was pregnant in the same fucking swing, and you. weren’t. there. Do you have any fucking idea how fucking terrifying that is? I went through it all alone! We both know my family wasn’t coming to my rescue me back then, and you black balled me with every friend we had. I had no one. No one was there for me through rehab, or throughout my pregnancy, or even through the nineteen hours of labor I went through before I had an emergency c-section because his cord was wrapped around his neck. No one comforted me when I held my breath PRAYING that I didn’t fuck my son up when I OD’d nor when I was begging God and anyone else listening to hear him cry when they had to rush him away to put him on oxygen before I even got to see him. I had no one! Because of you!”

“And nothing I will ever say will make up for that.” He said with a nod as he jumped up into the truck and sat down beside you. “Trust me, I’ve tried to come up with some shit to say to make this situation better but there ain’t words anyone can string together to fix it.”

“No, there’s not.” You agreed as you moved Gage from your arms to your shoulder and started to rub his back. “You will never be able to fix this…”

“What’s his name?” You looked over at him, a little stunned at the calm interruption and sighed with a small shake of your head.

“Gage. Gage Michael Baker.” Tears instantly welled in Colson’s eyes and he covered his face in his hands as the guilt and shame started to drown him. The part of your heart that loved the man beside you more than life itself shattered, and against your better judgement, you picked your still fussy son up off your chest. “Hold him.” You nearly whispered as you leaned forward and held your son out. You could see the torment and elation battle in his blue eyes as he carefully took his son and laid him in his tattooed arms.

“Baby boy.” He whispered as a few tears fell onto the cute overalls and John Deere green long sleeve onesie your mother had put him in that morning so her grandson wouldn’t go to the family market in the ‘my tattooed mommy can kick your mommy’s ass’ onesie you had put on him originally. You told him his birthday and his birth weight and length as you got off the truck and headed toward the table by the back door to grab your cigarettes.

“He likes ‘End of the Road’.” You breathed as you took a long drag and stopped a few feet away from the end of the truck. “‘Rehab’ is one I still play a lot…”

“Can you reach my phone?” He asked as he looked over at you and gestured to his right side. “Back pocket.”

“What, you think you’re getting lucky?” You teased as you set your cigarette down for a moment and walked over to the side of the truck.

“Pretty sure if I whipped my fucking dick out around you right now it’d get shot off by your old man or cut off by your crazy ass.”

“Little bit of both.” You smirked as you pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and handed it to him. He thanked you and fiddled with it for a moment, looking for a background track to sing to as you grabbed your cigarette and walked back over to where you were standing to keep the smoke away from Gage. Your brow furrowed as a melody you didn’t recognize started playing and you looked up from your shoes when he started singing. 

A sob caught in your throat as you listened to the words of the new song he had written for you and you couldn’t stop the small smile that spread across your face when you thought about that first night you met him. It was as close to a meaningful apology as you were ever going to get, because ‘I’m sorry’ meant nearly nothing to the two of you after all this time together with all the ups and downs you had been through. But one way or another, it made your wall weaken the slightest bit toward him once again.

“(Y/N)…” He nearly whispered when the song ended as he looked over at you. “I love you.” You choked on your tears and shook your head, not wanting to hear those three words from him for the first time in this situation.

“Colson…” You squeaked as your head and your heart battled for what to say next. In the long run, your head won, and you quickly walked over and gently took your now sleeping son from his arms. “I can’t…”

“I’m not leaving.” He called out as you headed quickly inside to go home. You paused but didn’t turn around as he got up to leave too. “Canceled my last three dates and postponed my fucking studio time. Putting my family back together is way more fucking important. I’m staying at the Best Western off the exit up the road. Room 105. Booked for at least two weeks.” With a very small nod of your head, you pulled the back door open with your toe and headed inside to get your bags, leaving Colson standing with his shattered heart in his hands.

——

When you left work, your intention had been to drive home, make yourself dinner, give Gage a bath, and smoke a joint before you headed to bed early but you never made it. Instead, you drove around your hometown for a while, headed to a fast food place to feed Gage his baby food a little easier, picked up a few necessities from Walmart and pulled into the Best Western parking lot. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to leave, to simply drive away and deal with Colson either in court or never again at all. You stared at the blue and white placard outside his door for twenty minutes until he pulled the door open and walked over to your door.

“Come inside, baby girl.” He cooed as he held out his hand and patiently waited for you.

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can.” He said softly as he crouched down beside you and gently put his hand on your knee. Tears started to fall softly on your cheeks as you searched his eyes, but he simply nodded his head. “Lemmie fix this.” You hesitated for a few more moments before nodding your head, and with a nod back, he stood up and pulled open the back door before you could change your mind. “What’s he need?”

“Just grab everything from the back seat.” You told him as you shut off your car and grabbed your purse from the floor board. He loaded his arms with bags and grabbed the pack and play you handed him from the trunk so that you could pick up your giggly little boy from his car seat. 

“Man, I fucking love that sound.” He said behind you as he kicked his room door closed behind himself and set everything down on one of the two double beds. You couldn’t help but smirk as you got a whiff of Gage’s dirty diaper, so you turned around and held your son out to his father.

“He’s just like you, Kels.” You teased as he took Gage from your arms. “He laughs when he shits.”

“Oh, babe!” He groaned as he quickly held his son at arms legs as he, too caught a whiff of poop. “Come on!”

“Change him, Colson.” You said as you pulled your diaper bag toward you, and pulled out the changing pad. “Quit giving me that look, he’s your son, too.”

“God, you fucking stink little man.” Colson said as he laid Gage down on the mat next to you. “How do I get this shit off?”

“Jesus.” You huffed as you reached over and unsnapped the overall straps. “You are not helpless.”

“I’ve never done this shit before.” He whined as you turned on the bed and started pulling the things he would need from the diaper bag.

“Just pretend you just shit your own pants.” You sighed as you laid everything out and started searching through the bags for the shower things he’d need next. “Unsnap the sides…”

“God, you are one stinky child.” He groaned as your son just wiggled and laughed on the bed. “Does he ever hold still?”

“Do you ever hold still?” You retorted as you folded your hands in your lap and waited. “He’s gunna roll off that mat.”

“OK, can you help me out here?”

“Not on your life!” You laughed as you used your knee to make sure Gage didn’t roll toward you. “I learned how to do this all by myself, too. You’re definitely not getting any special treatment from me. He’s gunna pee when you take that diaper off.”

“Swear to all shit that is fucking holy, I’m gunna kill you, (Y/N).”

“And I’ve been saying the same thing about you for months.” You sighed with a very pleased smile on your face. “But here you are still breathing and shit. OK, stop gagging, it’s not that bad. And you gotta get it out of his little chunker rolls…”

“So he got Mommy’s smile and her thighs… OW! I’m changing a baby here, don’t hit me!”

“One, don’t stay stupid shit. And two, you love my thighs. Gripped in your hands, wrapped around your hips, smothering your face…”

“Don’t.” He said a little harshly as he looked up at you through his lashes with a devilish glint in his eyes. “If you walk down that fucking road…”

“Oh, trust me, Kels.” You interrupted with a shake of your head. “You are not getting anywhere near this pussy for a long, LONG time.” The hopeful light he had in his eyes that said everything was back to normal with you being there disappeared almost instantly, and he quickly looked away to hide his disappointment.

“What next?”

“Well he needs a bath before he eats and then he’s going to bed. So strip down because I’m not putting my baby in some nasty ass hotel room tub.”

“You strip down.” Colson tried as he gently picked up Gage in both hands.

“Nope, you get to be a father tonight, sweetheart. Because before we even begin to consider what’s happening between us, you need to understand what being a parent means.” You turned on the water in the bathroom and adjusted it to the right temperature before turning around to look at him with a sigh. “You thought I was crazy before I had him, you ain’t seen shit yet. He’s gunna be very slippery when he’s wet. Don’t worry, you’re not gunna drop him.” You said quickly when fear raced through his eyes. “I’m gunna be right here.”

“Can you just… like get in and fucking stand there so you can catch him or some shit?” He asked as he unbuckled his belt and jeans and pushed them and his boxers down to the floor. “Please babe, you got me scared.”

“You’re gunna be fine.” You giggled as you took off just your pants and your bra. “Gage, tell Daddy he’s gunna be just fine.” He took a deep breath and stepped into the tub with his back to the spray and you held his arm to make sure he had his balance before getting in as well. “Yay! Step one!” Gage squealed in laughter as he slapped his hands on Colson’s tattoo covered chest and bounced around like he always did in the water, which made your ex even more nervous.

“Fuckin’ killin’ me.”

“Here, you gotta get him wet.” You instructed as you moved Colson’s hands so that he had a firm grip around Gage’s back, butt, and legs, so that he could cover his face with his free hand. “He doesn’t like the water in his face. And he probably will pee on you because he’s definitely your son and all. Just step back, Colson, I got you. You’re doing just fine. Here, now take some soap…” As patiently as you could, you walked your baby daddy through each and every step and explained the reasoning why you did things a certain way as you taught. You were surprised each time he asked questions (even though you always knew he’d make a great father), and decided to cut him a break the slightest bit when it was time to get out of the shower.

“I got him.” You said as you leaned around Kels and turned off the water.

“Na, I’m good.” He replied quickly as he pulled his son back into his chest so you wouldn’t take him. “Do you just grab the towel?”

“Just grab the hood part and put it on his head first, then wrap him like an awkward burrito. I think it’s just easier that way but my mom gives me shit for it all the time. ‘You’re supposed to lay him down first’… yea, because I want my bed soaking wet.”

“Probably because your mom hates me and I’m his dad.”

“Very valid assumption.” You agreed as you dried off your legs and dropped a clean towel over Colson’s shoulder.

“Not an assumption.” He mumbled as he laid Gage down on the bed and dried him off. He couldn’t stop himself from making faces at the little boy as he wrapped a towel around his waist quickly. “Shit, we made one cute little boy, babe.” You nodded in agreement as you pulled a dry pair of underwear from the Walmart bag and secured your towel around your chest.

“It scares me every day.” You sighed as you reached out and turned the diaper around in Kel’s hand. “Picture goes up.”

“What scares you?”

“Everything.” You breathed as you sat down and pulled a grey pajama onesie out of the bag. “Especially with everything that’s gone on with us, not just in the last year but our whole relationship. We fight all the time, and you’re constantly on the road. I used to be until I lost my contract because of the heroin overdose. I constantly wonder what’s gunna happen to him.”

“I was there.” You looked up at him as he gently took the pj’s from your hand and looked at them for a moment to see what snapped where. “When you OD’d. I was there for two days.”

“What?” He nodded his head as he pulled the onesie into place and buttoned it.

“I was the one that found you. You were fucking blue, (Y/N). Like actually fucking blue.” He looked over at you as he picked up his son and turned to sit on the bed with him in his arms. “I felt you stop breathing as I held you in my arms… and I felt your pulse slow so much that I couldn’t even feel it anymore. I was there when the ambulance came and hit you with narcan, praying that you’d wake up again, that you’d come back to me… and I was there when you screamed at me to leave you alone and that I should have just let you die.” Your breath caught in your throat and you fell back against the headboard as you covered your mouth with your hands in shock. 

“We were so fucked up back then, babe; fighting all the time, getting so close to getting violent almost every fucking day. I made a fucking choice, (Y/N). I walked away and it was the dumbest fucking choice I have ever made. But I walked away because I knew that you on heroin tied in with the amount of coke I was shoveling up my nose so I wouldn’t do heroin, was going to end up disastrous. I knew that I was fucking toxic for you… but I also knew every fucking day that I need you. I need you like I need fucking air, babe. And yea, I know we’re fucking crazy together. We push each others buttons and piss each other off… but you know me better than I know myself. 

You know the best way to talk me off the edge when I get caught up in my head. And you are the only one that can talk sense into me when I wanna bash someones fucking face in. You don’t put up with my shit, and you can dish it back just as fast. You are the first and only woman I want by my side; my fucking ride or die. I know I fucked up so many fucking times. But I wish… fuck, I wish so fucking bad that we could go back to those days. Because I would happily take the shittiest day of our lives together and live it like fucking groundhogs day than keep going on without you in my life anymore. Even if it’s just being a co-parent to the most badass baby in the world. Baby, I fucking need you.”

“Kels…” You sighed as you let your hands fall into your lap but he shook his head as he adjusted Gage in his arms because he was starting to fidget more, looking for his pre-bedtime feeding.

“Don’t call me that.” He begged. “Please… not you.”

“Give him here.” You sighed as you held out your hands to take Gage. You loosened your towel enough to free one of your breasts as Kels got up, threw on a pair of boxers, and grabbed you a dry shirt of his to wear to bed. “Honey, I don’t know if I can go back to that…”

“So we don’t go back.” He interrupted quickly as he came back over and sat back down in front of you. “We start from where we are; tattooed parents that just smoke weed, and get on each others nerves more often than not.”

“That have never been on a date or done anything but fuck, and party. And what about the road, huh? What about the sluts…?”

“Fuck the sluts.” He said with a swipe of his hand. “The only slut I need in my life is you.”

“Wow.” You said as a small smile pulled at the corner of your lips. “First I was a thot, but I’m a slut now. I see how it is.”

“Oh you were always a slut, babe.” He chuckled as he laid down and gently wrapped his hand around your ankle. “Like that kinky shit you did with your tongue.”

“Colson, I am feeding our child here.” You laughed as you gently kicked out your foot toward his arm. “Do not talk about our sexcapades in front of the baby.”

“Then there was always that thing I did with my tongue.” He teased absentmindedly as he laid down on the bed on his back and pushed your shopping bags out of the way. “And my fingers…”

“You better quit while you’re ahead, Mr. Baker.” You huffed as you pushed him with your foot. “Set up the pack and play. I need a cigarette.”

“Doesn’t that hurt? Your nipples used to be so fucking sensitive…”

“Only when he bites now. Apparently, thanks to your spawn, I now have rocks instead of nipples.”

“Mmmm so Daddy gets a go at those fun bags next?”

“Set up the play pen, Colson.”

Part 4

#machine gun kelly x reader #mgk x reader #colson baker x reader #meant to be

[edgeofmyniall]

twelve: yours

story page | playlist | taglist | thoughts

“I came to life when I first kissed you. The best me has his arms around you.You make me better than I was before. Thank God I'm yours. The worst me is just a long gone memory. You put a new heartbeat inside of me. You make me better than I was before. Thank God I'm yours...”

Meet me.

Ginger stared at the words on her phone as she waited for Daniel to pull up into the parking spot. Her heart beats and as she looks up into the rearview mirror, her eyes are brimmed with red. She didn’t really know what she was doing, her mind had taken over decisions. Her subsconscious had dissipated after Niall left. 

She watches as the SUV pulls in and Daniel waves to her from across the street. He smiles toothily and she returns his big gesture with a small token of a wave. She breathes in and exits her car-- her safe place. 

Her feet walk on without her. She opens the vehicle door and climbs in before shutting the door. They were alone together at last for the first time in years. 

Small talk was never Ginger’s forte. She longed for deep conversations. The menial speech causes Ginger to become nervous and she fidgets before Daniel takes Ginger’s face into the palm of his hands. 

“It’s only me…”

Ginger leans in for a kiss, and as Daniel’s lips roll around hers, she has a sudden moment realization: There were no sparks, no knots in her stomach, no involuntarily shaking or rapid heartbeat like there had been when she was a teenager. She felt a little guilty for being this close to Daniel, to be in the same space as him.  She was just...there in a car with the man who broke her heart all those years ago. 

She pulls back and watches Daniel catch his breath. She blinks rapidly before speaking: “I gotta go…” She opens the car door before Daniel could utter a word. She feels this is symbolic for Daniel: she’s leaving him high and dry like he did her in high school. Ginger isn’t one for acting on karma’s behalf, but maybe this could be a lesson learned. She ran to her own vehicle as tears began to build in her eyes. She just hopes she isn’t too late.

~~~~

“When’s the next plane to LAX?” Ginger stands at the counter puffy eyed and red faced. She feels like she’s run a marathon when in reality she’s running against the clock. The young girl looks at her, and Ginger senses she’s taking pity on the auburn haired girl. 

“How soon?” Ginger reads her name tag: Pennie. It was a sign from God above, and Ginger smiles for a moment.

“Like yesterday. If possible.” Ginger swallows and throws her credit card across the counter. She meant to lay it down gently, but she’s shaking and it’s only a matter of time before security escorts the drug addict out of the airport.

“Sorry,” Ginger says, her voice cracks and her tears spill over. Pennie rests her hand over Ginger’s and looks into her emerald eyes. 

“It’s okay. Let me check if we have anything leaving in the next hour.” Pennie begins to tap the keys of her computer quickly and Ginger thanks God for the literally angel in front of her. 

Ginger looks around frantically and begins to quietly whisper, “Please, please, please, please, please, please…”

Pennie stops clicking the mouse and runs the credit card. Handing her a ticket and her card back, she looks up and smiles, “There’s one boarding now. Run.”

The last time Ginger ran was when she was little and she was running from the woman screaming at her on the rec field. She hates running; the only running should be done is when it’s for her life- like a zombie apocalypse. 

But she ran. She ran until her feet hit the flooring of the plane. She had thrown her ticket to the boarding associate and hoped security wasn’t far behind her. Her heart is in her throat as she sits down trying to even her breathing. She wished the plane would take off already- that it was in the air and almost landing onto the LAX runway. But she had a few hours to go and with that time she figured out what she needed to say to him. 

~~~~

It was well past dark before Ginger arrived at the white mansion. Lights were on in the house, but there was no life outside. The moon felt like a spotlight on her, helping her on her venture of love. She pressed the numbers on the pad, and the gate opened up automatically. He hadn’t changed the password. But he always kept careful watch of his security cameras. He knew she was there. 

“Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry,” Ginger tells herself as she walks up the path to the front door. She’s walked this path many times, but now, it feels strange and unknown. She stumbles on a jagged rock and she thinks she sees a shadow dance across the curtained window. 

She reaches the small patio and takes a deep breath before raising her hand to ring the doorbell. Her heart is in her throat and she feels a little sick. The door swung open with a jolt and there, wide eyed and mouth agape, Niall stood in the opened doorway. “What-”

“I came to life when I first kissed you. The best me has her arms around you. You make me better than I was before,” Ginger sings off-key. Tears bellowing over her face, her promise to herself broke. “Thank God, I’m yours. The worst me is just a long gone memory. You put a new heartbeat inside of me. You make me better than I was before. Thank God I’m,” Ginger lets the tears roll down her face before breathing the word: “Yours.”

There was a moment of silence between the two. Ginger is searching for anything on Niall’s face. There was nothing- a stone wall on his outerbeing. 

“You downloaded the song?” he finally asks. Ginger rolls her eyes and sighs.

“After we danced in your kitchen that night.” Ginger sniffles before wiping her tears away. Her voice is broken, but frustrated.

“You hate country music.” Niall says dumbfounded.

“Listen. I know I’m the last person you want to see,” Niall rubs the nape of his neck before stepping fully onto the porch, closing the door behind him. Ginger steps back, trying to put as much distance between them. Even in the moonlight, he was beautiful. He has dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. “But I,” Ginger sniffles and feels the urge to cry again. “I want another chance.”

“I know I fucked up last time, and you said no more, but that was before...before I realized how much you mean to me. I haven’t been the best to you. And I know I lied to you, used you. But without you in my life, I can’t breathe as cliche as that sounds. I find myself thinking about you. Wondering what you’re doing, how you’re feeling, and if you’re thinking of me. I can’t get you out of my head. It’s like...like you’re a virus or something. Jesus, Ginger,” she closes her eyes at the bad example. “Not a virus, but the fact is, you’re all I think about. I got used to looking forward to every single one of your texts. When you came to my house. When you called me for no reason other than to hear my voice. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I can’t let go.

“I realized that night in the kitchen and at the beach that you weren’t playing. This was forreal for you. And it scared me because I’m not used to having someone wanting something real with me, ya know? I wasn’t second best to you. I wasn’t some back burner for you to waste your time on when you’re bored. I was your end goal.” Ginger watches Niall as he crosses his arms around his chest. “I risked my relationship with my cousin for you. My family hates me, and the only thing I have to show for it is two broken hearts. I let the opinions of others get in my head. But who cares?” A half laugh falls out of Ginger’s mouth before she continues. “The only people I should care what they think are you and me. That’s it. I just want a second chance. But if that’s too much, I understand.” Ginger tries to stifle her tears, but they win against her fight. She sure they caused her mascara to run down her face. What a sight she must be. They stand in the quiet of the awkward silence. Ginger thought about opening her mouth before the front door opens. There stands a girl  in a white button down shirt with her bra peeking out. The tanned naked legs hover in front of the door. Ginger blinks away the tears and nods. 

“Niall are you coming back?” She’s leaning on the door before he answers.

“Ina minute,” Niall calls back, never faltering his eyes from Ginger. The door closes and Ginger is left in Niall’s front lawn with her heart shattered. 

“I think...I think I got,” Ginger feels her throat close up and her stomach drop, “my answer. Goodnight, Niall. I’ll leave you alone.” Ginger turns to walk back to her car with not even her dignity left. 

“No,” Niall breathes and wakes up from his trance. “It’s not what you think.” He grabs Ginger’s upper arm and turns her around. He searches for some kind of understanding in them, but there’s nothing but bitter heartbreak. “Please listen to me. It’s not what you think. She’s some girl Deo brought over. I haven’t even…” 

“I’m barely out of your bed and she’s in yours,” Ginger spits.

“Did you not hear what I just said woman? She’s Deo’s girl. I haven’t even left me house since I last saw you. I can’t sleep. I worry about you night and day, wondering if I did the right thing letting you go. I picked up the phone millions of times, but I couldn’t bring myself to bother you.”

“Bother me? I-” Ginger cuts in, but Niall’s lips form a small line. 

“Let me finish. I tried texting you. Calling you. But you didn’t want me. You wanted someone else so I took myself out of the equation,” Niall’s voice breaks as fights back tears. “God, I love you Ginger, but you broke me. You made it seem like you’d rather die than be with me. So I let you go, but in that time of being together, I was so fuckin’ happy. I was buzzed that I had you on me arm, fightin’ your family and shit. Ya know Stella called me the other day. Said that she finally sees how happy we are. She said we’re meant for each other. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that you left me.”

“Was it worth it?” Ginger asks. Half of her knows his answer, but the other half needs to hear it so she can truly believe it. 

“Was it worth it?! Are you shittin’ me? I’d do it all over again if it meant that I could love you better. It was worth every fight, every laugh, every moment we had... Was it worth it?” Niall cups his hand over his mouth as he wipes away his disbelief. 

“Was I worth it?” Ginger asks again. 

“You’re worth a million lifetimes,” Niall’s tears fall down his face as he stands in the dark with his soul bare. “Was it worth it to you?” Ginger stands with her life as she knows it fleeting from her, feeling the world sway freely, but at the same time, the air around them is closing in on them. If this was to be their last conversation, she wanted to end it right. She walks slowly towards him, each step heavier than the other. Around Niall, she feels worth more than the Mona Lisa. She feels his heavy breathing on her skin as she leans in and kisses his lips. She cups her hands around his neck and feels his arms wrap themselves around her waist. The mixture of salty tears and coconut chapstick burn their lips. His lips brush against hers and the lump in her throat dissolves as Niall swirls his tongue around hers. A moan escapes from Niall’s chest as Ginger pulls away, breath ragged as she claims her oxygen. 

“Worth it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

@oyesmendes​ @klairelavarias​ @dontgiveupthedayjob​ @hannahollan1181 @perks-of-being-a-niall-girl​ @kare38 @verorax​ @stayclose-holdsteady​ @halfpinthoran​ @angrynarry​

#niall horan #niall horan au #niall horan imagine #nialll horan fanfic #niall horan fanficiton #niall horan ff #1dff #one direction fanfiction

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 11 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: omg HI u lovely lot i’m so sorry this update took so long!!! thank you all so much for your lovely feedback on the last chapter and for being so patient with me. hope this chapter’s worth the wait- it’s BLACKPOOL BABEYYYYY!!! will Vanessa and Brooke get that perfect score???

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

21st November 2020

“Someone was havin’ some nasty-ass sex this mornin’.”

Vanessa watches Crystal almost spit out the water she’s currently glugging down after their full cast dress rehearsal. If she hadn’t just finished her own bottle Vanessa would’ve probably done the same. Akeria’s comment is casual but Vanessa knows her enough to work out its intentions; she wants to know who’s banging, specifically who did so in the last eight hours.

Crossing her legs, Vanessa thinks back to the day she’s spent with Brooke Lynn so far. Obviously the events of the morning are still playing on her mind, fresh and still searing hot like lava. But after that it was almost as if they had been on another date. They’d headed out into the crisp, bright morning and grabbed breakfast at a nearby cafe, where the tables were sticky and the menus were stained and the ketchup bottle had rings of old sauce around the outside. They had both ordered matching fry-ups and Brooke had tried black pudding for the first time, claiming it didn’t taste as bad as it looked.

“If we get picked for the tour just wait. I’m gonna make you try haggis when we get to Glasgow. It’s fuckin’ horrible,” Vanessa had teased her, Brooke fake-gagging and making her laugh.

Then they’d had a walk along the beach, the cold stinging their faces and the wind whipping at their hair and making Vanessa wish they could just hold hands without the fear of being caught by someone videoing them on their phone. It had still been nice to share it with Brooke, though, and before they’d had to be at rehearsals they’d gone to the arcade and played on the penny falls machines, Vanessa laughing at Brooke as she got way too excited because “it’s like real life Tipping Point!”.

And now Brooke is sitting beside her, calm and composed as Akeria brings up the sex that Vanessa is still recovering from which was apparently so noisy and loud that it managed to wake her up.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Gigi says all too quickly, which piques Vanessa’s interest and makes her wonder why she’s so quick to rush to denial.

“Nope. Neither,” Jan shakes her head, the clear attempt to make her face look impassive not fooling Vanessa in the slightest. Narrowing her eyes, Vanessa casts an eye over a guilty-faced Monique and Monet.

She’s starting to question whether or not she and Brooke were the only ones that got some action this morning.

Brooke herself has got a small smirk on her lips as she opens her mouth to speak. “How did you guys not hear that? It was so loud. Sounded like somebody having the best sex of their life.”

Vanessa almost chokes on her own tongue in her desperate attempt not to react. Akeria is nodding emphatically.

“This morning? I must’ve been out for my run,” Jackie shrugs nonchalantly. She’s got the best poker face out of them all.

“It was somebody really whiny,” Brooke adds casually. Vanessa slowly turns her head and narrows her eyes at her. Brooke raises her eyebrows, tilts her head innocently. “You hear it, ‘Ness?”

Vanessa kind of wants to melt because she that’s how she feels every time Brooke calls her that and she loves it, but also she’s winding her up too much and Brooke must know Vanessa wants to clap back about how Brooke wasn’t complaining at the time, or how whiny she’d been when Vanessa had been teasing her with her fingers and whispering in her ear.

“Jeez, I mean, I must’ve been in the shower.”

“No, I think you would’ve been able to hear it.”

“What name’d they call out?” Asia shrugs. Brooke’s reaction is visceral- Vanessa watches her give a sort of panicked cough.

“What?”

“Well. You girls hear ‘em yell a name? That’ll give a lot away.”

Most of the girls are silent and holding their breath. Crystal, Gigi, Jan, Jackie, Monet, Monique, Vanessa, each one hoping their own worst or best-kept-secret isn’t spilled. Even Brooke who was gleefully winding Vanessa up moments ago has fallen mute and is looking at Akeria quietly. Vanessa’s brain is flicking through a rolodex of snapshots of the morning she and Brooke shared, trying to pinpoint any specific moment where either of them had begged the other just a little too loudly.

Akeria, for her part, gives a sniff and a shrug. “Hmm. Nah. Just moaning.”

“Well whoever it was, I hope they had some lovely sex,” Crystal babbles, her face guilty as sin as she finishes buckling up her dance shoes. She’s laughing nervously as she desperately tries to move the conversation along. “God, when will this band be ready? Like, how long does it take to tune a trumpet? Right?!”

Monique enthusiastically jumps in and agrees, and the conversation is dropped. Although Vanessa still tilts her head at Brooke questioningly and, as the girls become embroiled in a new conversation, she leans into Brooke’s side and whispers to her.

“If you think I ain’t gonna make you pay for that later, you’re wrong,” she murmurs, keeping her eyes trained on the other girls.

“Cute that you think you’re going to make me pay for anything, it took me what, two minutes to make you crack?” Brooke replies, and Vanessa can hear the smile in her voice. Vanessa, once again, can’t resist (it’s becoming a theme) and she turns her head to meet Brooke’s eyes, the twinkle in them still sparkling relentlessly.

“Whiny? Really, bitch?”

Brooke tips her head back casually. “I know we’re dancing to Let’s Get Loud but you know that’s just a song title, not an instruction, right?”

Vanessa tries to stifle a giggle, attempting to maintain her unimpressed charade. When Brooke looks at her again the endeavour fails, and they both end up laughing together. As their laughter dies down, Brooke sighs and Vanessa watches her pick a little at her outfit. They’re both in co-ordinated showgirl costumes- Vanessa’s green, Brooke’s pink- and even though Brooke objectively looks incredible Vanessa can tell she doesn’t feel entirely comfortable.

“Hey. You good?”

Brooke sighs. “This is just very…out of my comfort zone. I’m a TV presenter, God, I’m pretty sure the BBC would rather I was just a floating head half the time. No limbs, no boobs, no butt, no skin. Maybe a skeleton, actually. I’m just not used to getting my legs out. Or…anything out, really.”

Vanessa feels herself frowning in concern, a little embarrassed at how quickly she rushes to boost Brooke’s confidence. “Hey, listen. If you don’t feel like you’re fuckin’ sex on legs after this morning- shit, scratch that, every damn day- then I’m not doin’ my job right. You look perfect.”

Under the orange lights of the ballroom and the sparkle of the glitterball Vanessa swears she sees Brooke blush a little. She smiles and touches Vanessa’s arm gently. “Remind me what I did to deserve you?”

“Nothin’, you just ran off with my heart on that induction day an’ never gave it back,” Vanessa sticks her tongue out at her. Brooke grins and Vanessa wants nothing more than to lean in and kiss her right there and then, in fact she swears that Brooke’s edging closer to her and maybe they could just give each other a small kiss, maybe everyone else would be too distracted, maybe-

“And here we have one couple who keeps saying that they’re Definitely Not Romantically Involved With Each Other At All,” comes a voice, and Vanessa realises who it is as Yvie sits herself down on the chair beside her, filming a video on her phone. Vanessa covers her face in embarrassment.

“Delete that,” Brooke says, and just by her tone Vanessa can tell she’s rolling her eyes.

“Why? Too on the nose?” Yvie laughs, and as Vanessa looks up again she can see Brooke fixing her with an unimpressed glare. Yvie sighs, sulks and stops filming. “Fine! Fine, God. But you know if you had nothing to hide, you wouldn’t want me to delete it.”

“Listen, you just think everybody is as loved up as you are because you’re so happy with Scarlet. How is she, by the way? She coming up to watch you or has she got filming?”

Vanessa relaxes, impressed with Brooke’s ability to steer the conversation off course as Yvie is happily distracted by talking about her girlfriend. While Yvie speaks about Scarlet and gushes about how amazing she is and how lucky she feels to be with her and how she never thought she’d find a girlfriend through a TV dance show, Brooke makes sure to bump her knee a little bit against Vanessa’s with each new compliment, a little gesture that speaks so many words without Brooke having to say anything at all and lights Vanessa up from the inside out, so much so that she feels like the glitterball hanging from the ceiling, sparkling and dazzling.

Rehearsals soon end and the girls all move into the green room backstage to chat about nothing in particular, laugh at the top of their lungs like teenagers at the back of a bus, and eat tiny amounts of pizza that they’ll finish after their performance when it’s cold. Vanessa’s heart is so full she feels as if it might burst because she’s here, she gets to dance in the tower ballroom on the biggest TV dance show in the country. Okay, she’s danced here before- for competitions and showcases- but tonight she’s getting to do it with Brooke. Vanessa feels silly for having that mean so much to her. They’ve only been seeing each other for about a fortnight and she shouldn’t feel this deeply, but every time she tries to self-regulate and pull her feelings back Brooke ruins her plans with a smile, or a burst of laughter, or a squeeze of her shoulder or her leg that turns Vanessa to jelly and puts her right back in her feelings again.

Again. As if she could ever possibly be out of them when she’s with Brooke.

It’s not long until the audience all file into their seats and the ballroom lights go down, and Vanessa’s heart is almost beating out of her chest as Brooke gives her a quick kiss on the cheek for luck in the dark of the heavy curtains backstage. As she makes her way to the middle of the dancefloor with the other pros ready to begin their dance, Vanessa can’t even bring herself to wonder if anyone saw the moment they’d just shared because under the hot yellow lights and the huge glittering orb hanging from the ceiling and surrounded by the ornate gold that seemed to decorate every inch of the ballroom, Vanessa simply feels giddy and light just like any other infatuated girl.

“Live from the Tower Ballroom…this is Strictly Come Dancing!”

The music from the band blares, the audience breaks out in cheers, and even though she’s in Blackpool Vanessa feels as if she’s home. The pro dance this week is full of joy and sparkle, and as she dances Vanessa’s smile reflects on the faces of the five other girls she’s dancing with. It’s not her performance smile, nor is it a fake one; her face is radiating genuine joy, sunbeams that she hopes light up even the living rooms of whoever’s watching. When Brooke and the other celebrities join them for the last part of their dance Vanessa gravitates towards her and they snap together in hold. She can feel the excitement pulsing through Brooke’s veins as she takes her hand, and they’re smiling at each other with such ferocity that they end up giggling for the last section of the dance. On the final beat of the song they all freeze together, and Vanessa rests her head on Brooke’s chest as she relaxes. There’s golden confetti raining down on them and a little piece nestles itself in Brooke’s blonde locks of hair that Vanessa never wants her to brush out.

“Blackpool,” she hears Brooke murmur above her, so nearly inaudible she’s panting so much.

Vanessa looks up at her, cheeks hurting from her grin. “Blackpool.”

The girls all run off to get changed into their individual dance costumes they had worn before. Vanessa is glad that Brooke seems a little more confident in her outfit; she doesn’t know whether her new-found self-assuredness is down to Vanessa’s pep talk earlier or the adrenaline rush of performing, but she’ll take happy Brooke over nervous Brooke whatever the reason. Brooke looks the best out of all the girls- okay, Vanessa knows she’s biased, and in fairness everyone looks amazing. Crystal and Gigi are done up as little astronauts for their Salsa to Cosmic Girl, huge perspex space helmets over their heads with their faces covered in glittery highlight and little stars. Asia and Akeria look like early 00’s girlband members in matching green camouflage cargo pants and black bodysuits. They’re doing some sort of cool thing with aerosol cans for their Commercial dance to Scandalous and Vanessa’s promised Kiki that she’ll get into a good position in the auditorium to watch them both.

Although as everybody begins to dance, Vanessa slowly becomes less excited and more nervous. She mentally repeats each couple’s score in her head like some sort of meditational mantra- Yvie and Jaida 29, Akeria and Asia 37, Jan and Jackie 36. They range from unthreatening to panic-inducing, and as she and Brooke make their way backstage while Crystal and Gigi’s VT plays, Vanessa can feel the anxiety climbing in her throat, can feel her feet shaking in her shoes with every step.

“Hey,” Brooke stops suddenly in the darkness, her tone concerned and a little worried frown set on her face. “I can feel you worrying. What’s the matter?”

Brooke is beginning to thread her hand in Vanessa’s own, and she accepts. She already feels it grounding her, but her breathing is still shallow and her stomach is still in knots. “Just these scores…fuck, Brooke Lynn, I want us to be on top so bad. I want you to be on top so bad.”

“Yeah, you seemed to like it earlier,” Brooke winks at her, as Vanessa instantly realises what she’s said. She splutters a laugh, clamps her hand over her mouth in case they’re picked up over the microphones even though Vanessa knows there’s no way they could be. Brooke’s smile softens as she takes Vanessa’s other hand, swings them a little.

“Look. Do I care about being top of the leaderboard? Sure! But this, this whole thing has become less about the competition for me and more about getting to dance with you every week. Knowing we can go out there and be amazing no matter what the judges say, knowing I can showcase your amazing choreo and bring it to life, and being able to show you off and watch you be talented and incredible and clever. If we get the scores, we get the scores. But even if we don’t I want you to know that there’s nobody else I’d rather dance with, nobody else I’d rather be sharing this journey with. You’ve made it so special for me just because you’re you.”

Vanessa feels herself lean into Brooke’s touch as she takes a little curl that’s framing her face and tucks it behind her ear. She can feel something tumble and fall gently inside her- maybe she’s developing more feelings or maybe it’s a barrier breaking, she doesn’t know- and in that moment she throws caution to the wind and pulls Brooke in, their lips meeting softly as Crystal and Gigi start their dance through the curtain beside them. Vanessa’s heart thuds in her ribcage as she thinks about the fact that that’s all that’s separating them from the ballroom and the cameras and the millions of viewers. If the curtain were to fall…

She melts into the kiss and she can feel her anxieties melting away; Brooke is a gentle wave on the shore and Vanessa is sand and the occasional broken piece of shell, shifting under her and allowing herself to be drawn in. As Brooke pulls away Vanessa pouts her lips in disappointment, so Brooke gives her one, two, three little pecks before stepping back for good this time.

“Better?”

Vanessa can feel her pulse racing, but this time it’s excited nerves rather than anxious ones. She fixes Brooke with a little smile. “Yeah. Better.”

“Okay. That being said, let’s go get that top spot.”

The audience cheer Crystal and Gigi, and Vanessa’s skin prickles as she realises she and Brooke Lynn are dancing soon. They make their way to the wings where they’re met by a runner who eventually shows them out onto the floor. Vanessa takes a deep breath in her spot on the lacquered wood underneath a spotlight. She looks over to Brooke who’s on a little plinth, all lit up with a wall of halogen bulbs behind her, and gives her a little wink and a thumbs up. Brooke looks just as nervous as she is, but the smile she gives Vanessa goes some way to reassure her.

And then, a few seconds which feel like minutes later, the commentator’s voice booms overhead.

“Dancing the Cha Cha Cha…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”

The halogen lights behind Brooke blind Vanessa as she looks at her, suddenly confident and poised, a huge smile on her face on the stage. She looks like a real professional. Fuck, Vanessa’s so proud of her.

“Blackpool!” Brooke yells as loud as she can. “Let’s…get…loud!”

Pyro goes off behind the wall of light as the music starts, and the audience screeches as Brooke descends the stairs and practically runs to Vanessa, holding her hands tightly as they start their dance with matching smiles on their faces. A cha cha cha is a technical one, all about the footwork and arms, and they can’t really hide behind their obvious chemistry this time. But they’ve worked hard, so fucking hard, and Brooke can do it without a single mistake, Vanessa knows this.

Vanessa jumps up into a lift, Brooke holding her in her arms and spinning her round and making her giggle involuntarily. Maybe Brooke is right, Vanessa thinks, as she is gently deposited down and they jump back in hold again. Maybe none of this matters any more; the competition, the scores, the TV show. Maybe all this has to be is Vanessa dancing with Brooke and having fun, the pair of them growing closer with every passing second, and Vanessa coming dangerously close to falling for someone again with every passing day.

As Brooke faces forward and Vanessa does the same, then drops to the floor and wiggles her way up Brooke’s legs, it also occurs to her that it could also be about the great fucking sex they’re having. Well, have had. But Vanessa knows there’ll be another time, maybe probably very soon judging from the way Brooke’s now gliding her hands down Vanessa’s body.

She can’t let her concentration wander, however, so Vanessa’s brain is back in the game as they step, twirl each other round, Brooke dips her confidently before they go back to stepping quickly again, twirling effortlessly into a New York. As the horn section from the band blasts, Vanessa gauges the audience reaction. They’re cheering and clapping along and the judges are leaning forward, engaged and impressed. Even Bianca’s got a little smile on her face. In spite of everything, Vanessa feels her heart begin to rise.

“Ain’t nobody gotta tell ya what you gotta do…”

As the song ends, Vanessa holds Brooke’s hand as they whip out their final party piece- Brooke drops to the floor in an effortless split, and the crowd raises the roof. Shangela is screaming from her position behind the judges’ table and Brooke is screaming too as she swings her legs round and stands up, crushes Vanessa in a hug who’s already got her own arms out waiting for it. Vanessa mutters praise into Brooke’s chest and she can feel her planting a kiss to the top of her head in response, their little tradition that she’s glad Brooke hasn’t stopped.

As they cross over to Michelle Vanessa is grateful that Brooke is carrying the interview, as she can hardly speak out of her own gripping nerves. She knows that dance went well, she knows it’s the best they’ve ever done it. So when Michelle hands over to Shangela, Vanessa isn’t sure that she breathes for roughly ten seconds.

“I…thought…” Shangela starts, and Vanessa’s lungs almost give out. “…that that was the best we’ve ever seen you dance, Brooke Lynn.”

The audience erupts and Vanessa looks up at Brooke and beams, squeezing her tightly and refusing to let go. Brooke’s eyes are still on the judges as Shangela’s compliments continue. “Your footwork and your synchronicity with Vanessa…it was all just so, so polished, I mean a lot of celebrities when they come on this show, they can find the syncopation really difficult and you just- I mean it was like asking you to count to ten! You had a great night tonight, well done.”

The audience cheer her comments, and then it’s Kennedy’s turn to give her feedback.

“Yeah, I agree with Shangela. You are at your peak in this competition, and that was your best night yet. That was absolutely flawless, I just…I don’t have anything left to say at this point.”

Vanessa’s breath is heavy and laboured, trying to calm her rising hopes at all this praise Brooke is receiving. After Kennedy is Laganja, and she’s practically on top of the table as she yells about the pair of them, how much chemistry they have and how faultless Brooke’s performance was and how their Cuban breaks were perfection incarnate.

“And if this doesn’t get the score it should-” she finishes, shooting Vanessa’s pulse through the roof with a catapult. “- then I’m leaving the show!”

As the audience laugh and applaud Laganja’s comments, Vanessa feels Brooke’s grip on her waist tighten as it reaches Bianca’s turn. The crowd is silent, and if Vanessa squints she can see Brooke’s rapid breathing beside her.

Come on…come on…

The whole room seems to hold its breath. Bianca’s face is impassive as she opens her mouth to speak. “I couldn’t fault that if I tried.”

Vanessa’s face drops in shock and she feels Brooke lurch beside her, the levels of praise they’re receiving from Bianca Del Rio hardly registering. The audience is almost deafening at this point and Vanessa’s ears are straining to hear the rest of the judge’s comments.

“The Cha Cha Cha…I mean it’s a fun dance, it’s a cheeky dance, but it’s so rarely a showstopper, and that just stole the show. Shangela is right, there are so many things that meant you could’ve butchered that entire dance- hello, you’ve got one of the best Latin specialists in the country coaching you, hard not to be a little intimidated- but you took it all in your stride and it was like watching a fish swim, the effortlessness of it all. But one of the things I loved most about it all was just how much fun the pair of you were having. It was like neither of you seemed to realise that you were dancing in a competitive setting, and it felt as if we were all here to watch you on tour or something. Really well done tonight, Brooke Lynn, you did yourself proud.”

As the crowd claps for them both and Michelle sends them up to the Divinatorium, Vanessa clutches Brooke’s hand tightly. She sneaks a look at her as they run up the stairs and giggles as she finds Brooke’s eyes already on her. As Divina talks to them both and Vanessa feels Akeria squeeze her shoulder from behind her, she can barely concentrate on anything as her whole body vibrates in anticipation. Vanessa does manage to tune in, however, when she hears her name mentioned.

“Bianca did say it must’ve been intimidating for you to have Vanessa coaching you on a Cha Cha Cha- did you feel the pressure this week?” Divina asks Brooke, and Brooke just laughs, puts an arm around Vanessa’s waist and pulls her close.

“I mean there’s always that little bit of pressure when you’ve got someone like Vanessa coaching you, because she’s so talented and perfect at what she does,” Brooke smiles down at her, and Vanessa’s heart feels completely stuffed full of affection. “But she’s never intimidating, and she never puts pressure on me. In fact she puts way more pressure on herself, which she needs to stop doing, because look how well we both did tonight!”

Vanessa feels herself blush and all she can do is wrap another arm around Brooke’s waist as Divina continues to speak.

“Well, Brooke Lynn, I can confirm the judges’ scores are in. Let’s see what they thought.”

And then there’s the all-consuming feeling of holding her breath and gripping Brooke’s side as if she’s her lifeboat. Vanessa’s heart is just going and going and going because maybe, maybe, maybemaybemaybe…

“Will the judges please reveal their scores. Bianca Del Rio.”

“Ten.”

“Kennedy Davenport.”

“Ten!”

“Shangela Wadely.”

“It’s a ten!”

“Laganja Estranja.”

“TEN!”

They have done it. Forty out of forty.

Brooke has wrapped herself around her like an octopus with half its limbs cut off and is screaming in much the same matter. Vanessa can feel her nails dig into her back, a few tears drop down onto her shoulder and something inside her just breaks, and before she knows it she is simply holding Brooke and crying and Brooke is doing the exact same to her. The cheers from the other couples on the balcony turn into awws, and a box of tissues is shoved towards them. Vanessa soon realises that Divina is attempting to talk to her so she takes a tissue, sweeps it under both her eyes quickly.

“Sorry…that was a big reaction, it just meant a lot to the both of us. Brooke Lynn’s been working so hard every week so to get that sort of acknowledgement means the world to me. I just want everyone to think she’s as amazin’ as I do.”

As Divina reads out their voting details then signs them both off, everyone claps and Vanessa takes Brooke’s hand again. This time her grip is gentle as if Brooke will crumble apart on contact. When Brooke pulls her into her dressing room, there’s not the fire and heat that there had been last week; instead they hold each other softly, and Brooke rubs her back slowly while murmuring quiet, affectionate words into her hair in between pressing kisses to her forehead.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she says after a pause, and Vanessa’s stomach does a bungee jump.

“Stop it,” she replies quietly, if only to deflect from the fact that she’s thinking the exact same thing about Brooke but doesn’t dare say it back; she’s scared to say it out loud because the last time she felt this way about someone it all ended up in heartbreak and hurt and mess.

“It’s true,” Brooke insists simply, but she doesn’t push it or overdo it- her statement is her statement, and Vanessa’s glad she’s letting it be.

The perfect score, being top of the leaderboard, everything Brooke’s said to her tonight- Vanessa’s on cloud nine. That is until the results show is filmed, and one of Vanessa’s worst fears about being on the show comes true.

“I can now reveal that the second couple in the dance-off and joining Yvie and Jaida are…”

Drum beat. Drum beat. Vanessa’s ribcage is tight and constricted, and she daren’t let herself relax even though their scores were so perfect, even though they did exactly what they’d set out to do because maybe their fans could get complacent, maybe they didn’t vote as much this week…

“Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa’s guts feel as if they’re plummeting to the floor. She breaks away from Brooke, cranes her neck and looks over at her friend whose spotlight has changed colour leaving both Monique and Monet bathed in a sickening red. Monique had told her their dance hadn’t gone great- they’d performed directly after her and Brooke, and the pressure of having to follow their perfect score had rattled Monet to the point where she’d made too many basic errors- but Vanessa didn’t for one second think they’d land in the bottom two. Monique catches her eye, gives her a helpless, sorrowful smile, and Vanessa feels her eyes fill with tears.

As the other dancers are led up to the Divinatorium to watch the couples, Vanessa and Akeria gravitate to each other like little magnets, take each other’s hands with grave faces and emotional eyes. Brooke rests a hand on her shoulder and leans down to whisper to her.

“It’ll be alright. Yvie got under 30, God love her. She’s great, but Monet’ll overshadow her. Monique isn’t out, don’t worry.”

Brooke can usually say all the right things to calm Vanessa down, but not this time. She, Akeria and Monique had been so excited the moment they found out they’d all have partners this year, and Vanessa remembers the drunken pact they’d made after the launch show that they’d be the last three standing in the competition, the best of the best. It had been a silly joke, but watching as Monique takes to the floor and holds Monet in her arms, it’s never meant so much to Vanessa to have her friend share this journey with her.

As the music begins and Vanessa watches Monet and Monique glide across the ballroom floor effortlessly as the sparkling glitterball casts its mirrors over their bodies, she feels Brooke wrap her arms around her from behind and rest her chin on her head. Without thinking they fall into a soft sway and even though Vanessa’s heart is still in her mouth- because the two girls can’t leave the competition yet, it’s not their time, and she, Monique and Akeria have to be in the final together- Brooke’s gentle rocking manages to ground her and calm her without her even having to say a single word. Vanessa thinks back to what she had said backstage, how much Brooke had completely lit up her heart, and she wonders if she truly meant it all. The song’s lyrics drift into Vanessa’s consciousness as she watches Monet lift Monique gently, spin her around like she’s the dancer twirling around in a music box.

“What you say you can’t take back, no takebacks, don’t take that back…‘cause your words mean the world to me…”

Vanessa feels like laughing. Ain’t that the truth.

Monet and Monique finish their dance well with only a couple of noticeable faults, and then Jaida and Yvie do their Tango once again. It wasn’t too strong the first time and the clear pressure that comes with being in the bottom doesn’t help Yvie, as she makes a few visible mistakes. If the judges have eyes, Vanessa knows they’ll save Monique and Monet. Then again…stranger things have happened on the show.

Michelle consoles both pairs as they take their places under another spotlight each on the dancefloor. Monique and Monet’s hands are joined together tightly, and Yvie has her arm around Jaida’s shoulders, a light smile of defeat on her lips as if she knows the result already.

“Judges, I am now going to ask for the name of the couple you want to save and take through to Musicals Week next week. Starting with Bianca.”

Bianca shuffles a few papers and fixes both couples with a calm stare that flips Vanessa’s internal organs. “Well Yvie, I think you’ll agree that there were a few mis-steps there that couldn’t really be ignored, and Monet, conversely, you managed to elevate your performance in the dance-off. So tonight, I’m saving Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa feels Akeria squeeze her hand, her grip damp from the nervous sweat on her palm.

“Shangela.”

Shangela frowns, a pained expression on her face. “I mean it’s hard, because both dances had some errors here and there. However I’m going to go with my gut and the person I think deserves to stay and improve is Yvie. So I’m saving Yvie and Jaida.”

Vanessa lets go of Akeria’s hand, brings both of her hands up to cup her cheeks and exhales heavily. As Kennedy is head judge her vote holds the most weight on the panel, and so Michelle next comes to Laganja.  

“Yes, as Shangela said, neither was a perfect dance. But I personally think one couple managed to improve on their initial performance, and so tonight I’m saving Monet and Monique.”

Brooke squeezes Vanessa’s waist and holds her tightly as finally, Kennedy makes to cast her vote. Vanessa feels ill. She can only imagine what’s going through Monique’s mind as she stands in her character shoes, gripping Monet’s hand with her gaze very firmly locked on the floor.

“For me…it comes down to the connection between one couple in particular, and the emotion and the storytelling behind their routine. The couple I’m saving…is Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa melts out of Brooke’s arms and instead turns to hug Akeria, holding her as tightly as she’s holding Vanessa back and feeling her heartbeat through her chest. Vanessa feels Brooke put a light hand between her shoulder blades reassuringly, and the double dose of human contact helps bring Vanessa right down to earth from the rafters her sky-high anxiety levels had perched her up in. When the show ends, Yvie and Jaida share one final dance, and the others are allowed to invade the dancefloor and say goodbye, it’s not the eliminated couple Vanessa runs to but her cherished friend instead. Akeria joins them and the three of them hold each other and shed tears, relief not even being able to cut it.

It’s Yvie’s idea to go for drinks after the show- she’s happy even though she’s been knocked out, though Vanessa thinks that’s got something to do with the fact Scarlet has travelled up to watch her after all. So it’s a pleasant feeling when Vanessa finds herself clambering off the emotional rollercoaster she’s been strapped into all night and instead beginning to take on a more mellow form of happiness induced by the three pornstar martinis she’s managed to knock back so far. Even though they arrived at short notice the dancers and celebrities have all managed to secure a huge booth near the back of Revolution, where it’s dark and private and everyone else is too glammed-up and full of flavoured shots to notice a huddle of TV personalities. Vanessa looks fondly over at Brooke who’s dancing with Yvie, Scarlet, Jaida and Jackie who collectively are making her wonder how they’ve managed to lose the co-ordination and grace they show on TV every Saturday. Gigi and Crystal are on the other side of the booth, sitting close and having what looks to be a deep, meaningful heart to heart, and Jan, Monet and Asia are nowhere to be seen (either smoking area or bathrooms is Vanessa’s best guess).

Vanessa cheers as Monique returns to the booth with Akeria, carrying a stick of shots and a huge fishbowl of purple liquid respectively. The pair of them squash themselves down beside Vanessa and they grab a shot class each, toasting to them all surviving another week in the competition.  

“I can’t lie, my heart was in my damn asshole when Michelle said your name,” Akeria points at Monique, her turn of phrase making Vanessa snort out half her drink.

“Excuse me! You were the one panicking? I was the one that had to dance the damn thing all over again!” Monique clutches at her chest incredulously. Vanessa wiggles her eyebrows at her friend.

“Well ain’t it lucky you and Monet have that connection that managed to save you.”

Akeria jumps on Monique’s bashful expression like a cat on a mouse. “Yeah, how’s that situation goin’? Seems okay by the looks of things.”

“We had a long chat on Tuesday,” Monique brushes a bit of hair out of her face and looks at her lap. “I was honest with my feelings and so was she. Turns out she actually really likes me back. Crazy, ain’t it? My actual real-life celebrity crush likes me like that.”

Vanessa and Akeria squeal excitedly, and Vanessa sips from the fishbowl as Akeria asks where this leaves them both.

“Well, we’re both just focussed on the competition just now. Need to beat both you bitches, don’t we?” Monique sticks her tongue out, tinged blue from all the cocktails she’s been drinking. “But we’ve been doin’ more cute stuff, not just all the nasty shit. She came round to mine the night before we got the train up here an’ we had some wine and watched a movie an’ just talked an’ cuddled.”

“Ugh, puke. I don’t know what’s worse, havin’ to hear about your rehearsal-room bangin’ or havin’ to hear about all the diabetes-inducing shit you do now you’re both all in your feels,” Akeria gags jokingly, and Vanessa chuckles as Monique pushes her friend, unimpressed. Suddenly, something seems to occur to Akeria. “So wait. Was it you two I heard this mornin’ then?”

Vanessa’s tipsy and she doesn’t want to keep Brooke a secret any longer, at least from her two best friends. So as Monique shakes her head, she grimaces and gives a slow shrug.

“Uh…I think I can answer that.”

Akeria blinks at her and Vanessa can practically see the cogs turning in her brain. Monique gets there first though, and she emits a high-pitched shriek that soars above the speakers and makes Gigi and Crystal jump about twenty feet in the air from across the booth. Vanessa frantically shushes her, and that’s when Akeria catches on.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Lord Jesus. It was you an’ Brooke Lynn, wasn’t it? Tell me I’m right,” Akeria grabs Vanessa’s wrist, shaking her so excitedly and violently that even the table manages to shake too.

“You sorted your shit out? When?! Where is Jesus!” Monique squeaks at a pitch that, if Vanessa couldn’t make out herself, she would be convinced only dogs could hear.

“God, okay, it was after that night I came and stayed at yours. You know, when I kissed her and then she got weird with me and I told you both about it on the group chat,” Vanessa explains, starting from the very beginning. “Anyway it was that week we did the Argentine and it’s hard not to feel a way when you do that kinda dance, y’know? So it ended up happenin’ again an’ we actually talked this time. She told me she had this big crush on me, an’ obviously I felt the same. So…yeah. We’re…well, not together, but we’re a thing for sure.”

In the midst of Monique’s excited reaction, Akeria narrows her eyes. “What, when you did that Tango? Girl. That was what, a whole-ass week ago? More? Why’re we only just getting told about this?”

Vanessa pulls a face. “Well, we’re both trying to keep it low key. You know what happened with Kam, an’ I don’t wanna get too invested too fast. Plus if it gets into the papers…”

“That’s fair. Got it, girl. We’ll keep it all secret,” Akeria reassures her instantly, taking her hand and leaning into her side in her tipsy state. “This is dead cute, though. I’m happy for you, babe.”

Monique gasps in outrage. “Oh, so when Vanessa gets a girl it’s cute but when I get a girl you gag?”

“Yes. Because Vanessa don’t bang her girl on the rehearsal room floor,” Akeria frowns at her, and Vanessa explodes a laugh. She’s so full of love for her friends, and she’s beyond glad that tonight’s been her night. So when their song comes on over the speakers and Akeria starts yelling it out in her own off-key way, Vanessa drags them both up to join the clump of girls already on the dancefloor, and when she dances over to Brooke’s side she can’t help but feel a little warmth flow through her veins as Brooke’s vision sparkles at the sight of her.

They all end up dancing til closing time, and as they spill out onto the streets like the club has coughed them up Vanessa has to fight the drunken thoughts her mind is producing that are urging her to take Brooke’s hand on their walk back to the hotel. There could still be a camera anywhere, even at one in the morning, and Vanessa doesn’t want to risk the small beginnings of whatever it is she and Brooke are sharing.

Still, when they’re back in their hotel room they’re free to act as affectionately as they want, and Vanessa has never been more glad of the fact they’ve been given a double bed as they fall back against the mattress, giggling and kissing each other like the worst kind of honeymoon phase idiots the world has ever seen.

“Can’t be bothered to put m’ pyajamas on,” Brooke murmurs, her speech impeded by the espresso martinis she’s been drinking and the lethargy that’s rapidly taking over her. Vanessa laughs softly, turns over onto her side and tucks a strand of hair behind Brooke’s ear. Her lipstick is faded, one of her eyelashes is sticking up at the side, and there’s a little patch of smudged eyeliner at the corner of her eye, but Brooke’s still perfect to her.

“Jus’ sleep naked,” Vanessa says, attempting to sound seductive but getting betrayed by the yawn that escapes her mouth mid-sentence. Brooke laughs.

“You really know how to charm a woman into bed, Ms. Mateo,” she teases her, tapping her lightly on the nose with her finger. Vanessa bares her teeth at her, biting at the air and causing Brooke to dissolve into giggles.

“You’re a mess.”

“Hey, so are you!” Brooke laughs incredulously, and Vanessa has to concede. She watches as Brooke sighs wearily, sitting up against the pillows and pulling off her lashes one by one. Brooke leans over the side of the bed for the packet of makeup wipes in her bag and Vanessa can’t help but smack her butt that’s sticking in the air. Brooke responds by launching the makeup wipes at her, hitting her square in the face and causing the pair of them to burst out laughing again.

Vanessa takes out two wipes and hands one to Brooke, and somehow the pair of them end up taking each others’ makeup off, their hands swiping at each others’ faces haphazardly like faulty windscreen wipers on an old car.

“This is the worst facial I’ve ever had,” Vanessa jokes disdainfully, and Brooke waggles her eyebrows.

“I’ll give you a facial later.”

Vanessa snorts ungracefully as Brooke breaks out into a ridiculous grin and ends up with the makeup wipe in her mouth. “Shut the hell up!”

They eventually end up in their pyjamas, but not before Brooke gives Vanessa the world’s worst striptease (Brooke attempting to take her pants off but instead getting them caught around her ankles and falling onto the floor, rendering Vanessa incapable of speech during a laughing fit that lasts a solid five minutes). Vanessa’s not sure what time it is when they finally turn off the lights, get under the covers and sleepily wrap themselves around each other, but she knows it’s pitch black outside and the seagulls are silent and she can just about hear the waves crashing onto the beach if she listens hard enough.

She’s so busy trying to hear the sea against the shore that she doesn’t register Brooke is saying something until she hears the tailend of her sentence, only aware Brooke’s lips have been moving against her skin when they stop.

Vanessa stretches a little. “Hm?”

She feels herself melt as Brooke pulls her closer, hugs her tighter and shakes her head a little. “Doesn’t matter. Night, ‘Ness.”

“Night, Brooke Lynn.”

It’s only once Vanessa is ever so close to falling asleep that she feels as if something was missing, like she wanted to say something more- but the words elude her and she is too tired to think too much about it, so she lets herself be carried off to sleep in Brooke’s arms, comfortable and relaxed inside and out.

#rpdr fanfiction #ortega #bet you look good on the dancefloor #strictly au #lesbian au #branjie #background momo #background scyvie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #akeria davenport #monique heart #monet x change #yvie oddly #jaida essence hall

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #420

lol blaze it (i’m funny i swear)

In your opinion, which fast food place has the best fries? Without a doubt, Bojangle's. Good. Shit. Are there hurricanes where you live? Yeah, they're common here. What do you hate the most about yourself? I'd really rather not get into this right about now. What song are you listening to right now? "Beast of Gévaudan" by Powerwolf. What was your first concert? Alice Cooper. Also my only concert. What’s your favorite Johnny Depp movie? Alice In Wonderland. Who did you last say “I love you” to? My sister. Do you like pumpkin pie? Anything pumpkin-flavored is a hell no from me. Do you know anyone named Austin? Knew, rather. Do you know anyone who is having a baby? My friend recently announced she and her husband are having their second child in December. What was the last thing you cried about? Just PTSD. Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk? I like both, but I prefer chocolate. Do you think you are an argumentative person? Definitely not. How many deep dark secrets do you have? Two or so, idk. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Some wings at Buffalo Wild Wings with one of the hottest sauces. Wanted to die. ... Yet I continued to get that one whenever I went for years lmao. Who last called you sexy? I don't know. Would you class yourself as a good role model? In some ways, but in a lot of other ways, no. Are you scared of the dark? No. Do you have a motto? No. Who did you last see on webcam? The doctor that overlooks my TMS progress. Do you need a haircut? I need a trim for sure. How would you react if your mother told you that she was pregnant again? Well, considering 1.) she's way past menopause and especially 2.) she's had a complete hysterectomy, y'know... that's kind of impossible. She also hasn't been with a guy in many years, so she would have to be joking. You log into Facebook and see the red ‘1’ notification next to the message icon. Who do you want it to be? -___- Would you rather exercise alone or with other people? ALONE. You will NOT see me exercise in front of other people. What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? The most involved is DEFINITELY World of Warcraft, and I guess you could consider it the hardest too, given some of the much more difficult things I've done in it. It itself isn't a hard game whatsoever, but you can pursue some really hard achievements. Ever watch the show Supernatural? If you have, then what’s your favorite episode? I used to love it, but just stopped watching eventually. My fave episode... Man, it's been too long to remember many. Probably one of the funnier ones. I remember I specifically liked the bit where they were in your everyday comedy show, as well as the one where I THINK Dean kept trying to prevent Sam from dying. I just remember the "Eye of the Tiger" bit that is pure gold. Ever heard of flavored honey? If so, what’s you’re favorite flavor? Oh, no, but that sounds good. Do you remember what your favorite show was when you were little? Yeah, Pokemon. Do you put anything besides cheese on grilled cheese sandwiches? Besides butter, which I think is pretty standard, no. When it comes to books, what do you think is the “perfect” amount of pages? Uh, I dunno. It depends on the book. I don't really care about page numbers. Would you ever be interested in going scuba diving? Yeah. Out of all of your friends/relatives, who would you say has the best vocabulary? Girt, probably. Are any of your fingers or toes deformed? What about the nails? I don't think so? When is the last time you cried? I was sobbing earlier today, fun stuff. Would you ever date somebody that has been divorced more than once? Most likely not. ESPECIALLY at my age. What are some stereotypically nerdy things that you like? Oh god. WoW, M:tG, big glasses, anime (does that count? idk really), video games... a lot of stuff, really. Have you ever attended a wedding that ended where the bride and groom didn’t actually get married? What happened? Y I K E S, no. That would be SO uncomf. What scares you the most about becoming a mother (hypothetically, if you don’t want to have children)? Actually raising it properly, physically and emotionally. Would you ever want a job in fashion? What would you enjoy about that type of job? No. Would you ever be a surrogate mother? No. What do you think would be the best and worst parts about being a twin? It'd be cool to have someone you feel an almost supernatural connection towards, but I'd also feel like I wasn't as "original" as I would be if I was born alone. Do you feel that your childhood was more rough compared to others around you? I mean it wasn't awful at all, but sure, in some ways compared to at least someone. How would you react if you found out today that you were actually adopted? Well today I'm a wreck, so don't tell me. I want to know that I wasn't lied to for 25 years. Have either of your parents ever cheated on one another before, that you know of? How would you react if you found out today that one of them cheated? I'm not entirely clear on this, but I'm 90% sure Dad cheated on Mom with his now-wife. Dad also accused Mom of cheating, but I HIGHLY doubt that's true. Do you like cleaning and organizing? Not really. How would you react if you found out you were infertile? If you don’t plan on having kids to begin with, what is a long-term goal you’d be crushed to find out was impossible to achieve? Fuck having kids. I'd be a terrible mother. So to answer the other question, I'll be pretty, pretty sad if I can't get permission to spread Teddy's ashes at Yellowstone. Would you take your dream job if it were out of the country? Well, obviously not considering my dream job is a meerkat biologist, and I'm not moving to Africa. Have you ever been robbed? No. Is anyone close to you an alcoholic? Not anymore. Dad was, but he's recovered. Have you ever dumped anyone? Yes. What kind of tea do you drink? I hate tea. Do you know anyone in a gang? No, and I hope I never do. What’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you? Risk his fucking sanity and health to try to hold my fucked up self up. What is your orientation? Gay? Straight? Metrosexual? Anything other? Bisexual. I've kinda been questioning pansexual of the late, though. I don't know. Have you ever done anything really dangerous or illegal with friends? Not to my memory. Name three feelings you’re feeling right now: Regret. Hopelessness. Loneliness. And the reasons for these feelings? Take a wild fuckin' guess. How do you feel about your life right now? It's an actual dumpster fire. Is it easy for you to like yourself? Why or why not? Fuck no. Because there's just not very much TO like about me. Even on my good days, I see flaw after flaw in myself. What subjects come naturally to you? English, some aspects of science. What subjects do not? Math, economics, politics, history... Do you read more fiction or more non-fiction books? Definitely fiction. When I read a book, I want an escape from the real world. How has today been for you? BOY HOWDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What did you do? Went to TMS therapy. Sat on the Internet. Cried. :^) Are there any candles lit in the room you’re in? No. Are there any lava lamps near you? No. I want one, though. Do you like cats or dogs better? Cats. Are any of your friends a pothead? Yes. What’s a goal you’re trying to accomplish soon? Start losing weight again. That'd be pretty goddamn grand. Are you a high maintenance person? Definitely not. The last time you yelled as loud as you could, what was the reason? I was having a nightmare. Have you ever been heartbroken? For sure. Who did that to you? First Dad, then Jason. Did you go through an ugly stage as a kid? Boy, did I. The last type of sandwich you made or ate: A pb&j. The last time you spent most of the day in bed: Literally every day. I do just about everything in bed. Pathetic, I know. The last friend or acquaintance you made: Ummmm idk. The last thing you took pictures of: A hydrangea bush. The last time you were scared: Now. The future is terrifying, my friend. The last thing you looked up online: The definition of a word to ensure I was using it correctly. The last thing you disagreed with: So I've been watching John Wolfe's old stream of him playing Alice: Madness Returns, and he went on a total soapbox about smoking being okay essentially because we're all gonna die eventually from something, and I really disagreed with it. Does your house have a separate laundry room? No, just like a closet. Do your parents still help you financially? I'm still entirely dependent on them. Does your car have a backup camera? No. Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? REALLY old, no. Teddy was definitely up there, but beagles have lived longer. What was the last strong scent you smelled? Lysol. Have you ever told someone to their face that they were ugly? Christ, no. Is your bed against more than one of your walls? No. Have you ever been attracted to someone’s parent? Don't think so? Have you ever pole danced before? No. Have you ever broken into someone’s house? No. Have you ever seen a live bat? Yes. What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? I dunno. Have you ever taken a woodshop class? No. How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? Funny you ask, because as of today I decided to take a break from it for awhile. I've found it's nothing more than a breeding ground for envy and making me feel like a horribly incompetent adult. Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? I had one photography teacher in college that I was NOT a fan of. He was super, super hard on everyone, like to an unnecessary degree. We were students, not pros. Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? No. Are your parents supportive of you? Somehow.

#survey #surveys #random questions

[goatbi]

yo, for the weird headcanon thing, can we get our boy gordos feetman?

What they smell like: I feel like Gordon smells vaguely minty, and then whatever cologne he uses sprayed on top. Like, no matter what he uses, there’s always gonna be that hint of mint, and that’s cause he really likes these candy mints, and, during off times and he just wants to chew on something, he gets a fuckton of those, so he just smells like it constantly. 

How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc): Gordon is a cuddler, one hundred percent. If there is no one in the bed with him, he grabs a pillow to wrap his arms around, and then curls his legs up under him to snuggle with it. When he does have someone to snuggle, he loves being big spoon, or chest to chest, cause he likes clinging onto people, but he deserves little spoon so he still has his cuddle pillow. His schedule is all over the place, with when he’s going to bed, but when he wakes up it tends to be early on weekdays so that Joshua can get ready properly, and then whenever someone (usually Joshua) wakes him up on weekends. If he doesn’t have nightmares, he’s very still when he sleeps, which is how people know when he’s having one, since that’s the only time he starts to toss and turn. Pretty silent. Has a very quiet snore, if you listen for it. 

What music they enjoy: Heavy Metal is through a lot of his playlist, but he’s also the kind of guy to be like ‘hey, i’ll listen to anything once’ and that’s really shown in his playlist, since you can have Disney songs right next to Motley Crue, right next to country. It’s kind of... a mess. Tommy hates it with a burning passion. 

How much time they spend getting ready every morning: It would be shorter if not for the fact that getting out of bed is the hardest thing in his list. Not just because he’s depressed, though that does play a factor into this, but also because he usually has someone clinging to him and not letting him out of bed (whichever ship fits i guess). So he sets his alarm like a half an hour early, and then another thirty minutes later so he can say ‘i’ll stay in bed another half hour’ and they’re like ‘perfect’ not knowing he has Trick Them, like the lil trickster he is! Other than that, he showers at night, so that’s not too long, and, unless he’s doing anything important in the mornings, he just throws on whatever clothing he happens to grab out of his closet (which results is some horrible combinations, but you do you buddy). Half the time he doesn’t brush his teeth, just immediately goes for breakfast, which, unless Coomer is up, he’s the one to make. Joshua increases this time during school days, cause he really hates his shoes, but once those are on, everything else runs pretty smoothly. He’s got it down to a science at this point. 

Their favorite thing to collect: For some reason I feel like he would collect bottle caps! I dunno why, but he would just have a huge box of them somewhere, and he sneaks them from the others a lot and just kinds slips them into his pockets (i headcanon they stopped drinking soda out of cans after Black Mesa since Gordon freaked out one time and thought it was a grenade and they were like ‘lets not do that again) and he just... cleans them out and puts them in his box. He’s not a serious collector or anything, but he had quite a few now. 

Left or right-handed: He was right handed but uhhhhhhhhhh, now he’s ambidextrous, since in the time it took Bubby to build a functioning arm, Gordon learned how to write with his left hand, and then he got his fancy new arm and had to relearn how to write with that, and now he can do both! 

Religion (if any): I think he was raised Christian, but with my idea of what his home life was like as a child-teen, I don’t think he subscribes to those beliefs anymore. He knows eldritch beings exist (which, let’s face it, God would be an eldritch being) so if God exists, he wouldn’t be surprised, but he’s not really in any specific religion anymore. 

Favorite sport: I think he watches most sports when they’re on, but doesn’t really? pay attention. If someone asks him, he might be able to give them a basic rundown, but nothing really of importance. He does like baseball a bit more than others, and tends to be able to figure out whats going on more likely than that, but that’s about it for him. Sports just kinda... aren’t his thing. 

Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc): I like to think he likes sightseeing. Just wandering around looking at cool places and seeing how they fit into local history, and just. He likes finding the weird things, like, in my hometown, there’s this weird ass statue of a running rabbit that looks like it’s unhealthy as shit. Gordon would have fucking LOVED to see that bastard. He would have taken seflies with this unhealthy rabbit and set it to the group chat with the caption ‘LOOK AT IT. WHAT IS WRONG WITH IT???’ 

Favorite kind of weather: He likes when it’s kinda cloudy in the summer, so like, you don’t need a jacket, but it’s still not hot as hell? the kind of weather that has most people like ‘well it’s gonna rain which means we can’t go to the beach >:(’ has Gordon like ‘fuck yea it’s gonna rain soon, me and Joshua can go jump in puddles and I don’t have to put sunscreen on him!’ 

A weird/obscure fear they have: There’s a lot of things he just... doesn’t like, but that’s not out of fears or anything, that’s just sensory issue hell. There’s a few fears he has because of Black Mesa that are a bit weird to anyone who wasn’t in Black Mesa with him, like, he can’t be the first to go into a room he’s never been in before, especially if someone’s like ‘go in, it’s fine, just go in’ it freaks him the fuck out. He also tends to be a bit cautious with people being on his right side, though Tommy is the only one that seems immune to this so far, unless he has no choice, but he does tuck his arm up against his chest, usually but crossing his arms, to seem calm about it, but he really doesn’t like it. 

The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: Those racing games? Fuck, he would destroy every single person in the entire Extended Science Team in a heartbeat on those fuckin games. No hesitation, murder. He got really good at those games somehow, and both Tommy and Benrey were like ‘nah we can beat him’ Benrey because he’s a pro-gamer bro, and Tommy because Tommy also is really good at random games in arcades, but Gordon wiped the floor with them both, and Bubby and Coomer were standing there watching like ‘holy shit they’re dead’. They have not challenged Gordon again, and sometimes he still destroys cocky teens on those games, cause there’s a lot of people that are like ‘we can beat this dude he’s an old guy haha’ and he’s like ‘first, im twenty-seven. second, I’m about to kill a child’ 

#hlvrai character ideas #gordon freeman hlvrai

[apoemforthismoment]

Faster Than Light --Marilyn Nelson

I didn’t want to pay to park my car, so I took a taxi to the train station. New London is an hour’s drive away, but it was the best solution I could find. After ten miles or so of idle chat in which my occupation was confessed, the driver said he was a physicist— As a hobby, he said: Driving was his trade. Still struggling to connect my seat-belt clasp, I asked his opinion of an article I’d skimmed last weekend in the New York Times, about a man who researches time travel.

He made that pffft Parisian cabbies make in early August, when Americans try to parlez avec them at rush hour. He gave me a long over-the-shoulder glare, squeezed the steering wheel, and hit the gas. He said, He’s wrong. The one thing that would work  is to fly faster than the speed of light, through a wormhole. The gravitational field is full of holes: You only have to find one and be pulled by metagravitational force. For energy you could use compressed song… (or words to that effect. My memory

isn’t what it was ten minutes ago.) He drove with ten white knuckles on the wheel, his pinched blue right eye looking back at me, as we took the curves on two screaming tires. Faster than light travel, that’s the secret. The government’s been onto this for years. There are other planets waiting to be explored. This one’s almost used up; it’s time to move. We won’t take people who don’t measure up, our intellectual inferiors. Let them inherit the earth; we’ll take the skies. (I still couldn’t figure out the seat-belt catch.)

The poor and ignorant population grows so quickly… What? Deny the right to life? There’s a fuckin’ holocaust of the unborn! But some races and cultures lack the gift of scientific knowledge. It’s the dross  of their stupidity which weighs us down and holds us back. Faster than light travel! Faster than light travel. The only way! We hurtled down the turnpike, passing trucks Faster than light! and cars full of people driving hell-bent to get to work on time. Faster than light travel, that’s the ticket!

Finally, we pulled up at the train station. (I’d given up on fastening my seatbelt— stupid contraption—trusting to the universe to grant me more good luck.) I scrambled out. We wished each other well. (My tip was generous, if I do say so myself.) Faster than light, he yelled, late for his next pickup, zooming off, talking to his phone. (My cup brimmed over with Psalm Twenty-Three. Buoyancy’s sometimes stronger than gravity.) I wheeled my luggage down the crowded train, then found a seat and opened my magazine.

Some influence is affecting a space probe, I read, which baffles scientists. It will rewrite the laws of physics and astronomy when scientists understand and name that force. The plan was for Pioneer 10 to arrive some million years from now, at some far place. In case of alien contact, there’s a plaque of a human couple, and a celestial map showing Earth with a spear held to her head. Thirty years beyond its launch, it’s past Pluto, the farthest planet orbiting our sun, in empty space 7 billion miles from Earth.

The article said current theories can’t explain what’s causing the decrease in Pioneer’s speed. It’s almost imperceptible, a mere 6 mph per century: But Pioneer 10 is being pulled back to the sun. I closed my eyes. …Several million years from now. As if a species on the brink of extinguishing itself said to a future species, Remember me? The species which perfected genocide? Will science ever discover humility? Right, fool. You want to say en garde to science? Why stop there? Why don’t you attack Knowledge,

while you’re at it? And how about Progress? Ain’t that a bit ambitious, Miss William Blake? What was that voice? Listen, Marilyn, listen: as saints once listened (and, of course, the mad). I looked around: The other passengers were busy with laptops, breakfasts, books. And where does it get off accusing me? Ambition? Why, I’ve surpassed every fantasy I had. Would I presume to bad-mouth our attempt to cheat death? My poems: a handful of dust trying to get back to supernova. Like every longing, everything alive.

But ambition wants the immortality of a members-only country club Valhalla, an eternal summit meeting of great names. Millions of lightyears into the future, that immortality ambition breeds with serendipity: what will it mean? Our poetry, our books, our language: dust of words, never again to be spoken. I wonder what will last millions of years: A stone? A nuclear waste disposal site? Will Homo sapiens evolve, or die? Will wiser beings populate our Earth?

We’re dying faster than the speed of light, our fame forgettable. Will good deeds, too, vanish, like molecules of exhaled breath, to be recycled by the universe? Girl, get on back to the raft. When you try to think the breeze between your ears nearly blows me away. My Muse again. So much for my magazine. I closed its pages and began to drift. As if you wasn’t drifting all along. If you had the good sense God promised the carrot, you’d know that what lasts is the hush of space: the hiss of orbit, and the hum of stars.

If you could launch a space probe, I wondered, would you take up my name engraved in gold? My puny thoughts? My hopes for the future? And, if I knew I’d be anonymous, would I publish? Would I write poems at all? (During the countdown of The Anonymous, you’d be trying to scratch your initials on the hull.) Well, Muse of Disposable Poetry, at least I’m not producing toxic waste! But poets who want immortality, poets who are ambitious: Is it wrong to want life after our deaths for our songs?

Leave immortality to cancer cells: They don’t know when to stop. Just when they reach the point of no return, the body dies, and the cancer is returned to genesis. Genes are programmed to reproduce and die; and poetry, to stick on a synapse, lucky to be a line remembered wrong. Your work, projected into the future, is pulled back to earth by dark energy, the glue which binds the cosmos together… From Stamford I no longer traveled alone; my seatmate fast-talked into his cellphone.

#marilyn nelson #brainpickings #the universe in verse

[jesus-in-a-life-boat]

Queen Survey Results

The results are finally here!!! They took forever to summarize, but I’m finally done. Some of them were obvious, some were rather surprising. Enjoy!

Favourite member

This one was interesting. The results kept changing drastically over the week and I became curious myself. But the final winner of our hearts is...

.

.

.

Roger Taylor

With 213 votes!!!

Next were John (170 votes), Brian (169 votes) and Freddie (154 votes). 25 voters couldn’t choose between these four amazing humans and went with “I don’t know”.

With mind-blowing drumming skills, a sharp wit and the ear-piercing voice, Roger sure is a beloved man. And that’s without mentioning his good looks: beautiful like an angel, yet sexy like a demon. Not half bad.

Favourite album

🏆A Night at the Opera: 182 votes

🏆🏆Sheer Heart Attack: 111 votes

🏆🏆🏆A Day at the Races: 85 votes

News of the World: 82 votes

Queen II: 69 votes

The Game: 36 votes

Jazz: 35 votes

Hot Space: 34 votes

The Works: 31 votes

Queen: 22 votes

Innuendo: 20 votes

A Kind of Magic: 11 votes

The Miracle: 10 votes

Made In Heaven: 3 votes

Favourite writer

All four members of Queen are gifted writers that created brilliant and iconic masterpieces. However, one member stood out and won with 278 votes. The winner is...

.

.

.

FREDDIE FUCKIN’ MERCURY

Ah, yes. Such moving and well-phrased words.

In all seriousness, Freddie’s writing had an insanely impressive range: from the operatic and powerful ballad “Bohemian Rhapsody” to the playful and romantic tune “Crazy Little Thing Called Love”, Freddie sure shows talent. Not every musician can take three different songs and turn them into one iconic bop.

Brian is the runner-up with 225 votes for his emotional and space-themed songs we all know and love.

John is in 3rd place with 115 votes. Us Queen fans love both his disco tunes and his rock tracks. The only thing that held him back from defeating Brian was probably “I’m happy at home”.

Meanwhile, Roger suffers a dramatic defeat with only 35 votes. I suppose “I’m in Love With My Car” backfired big time.

76 voters remain undecided. Can you blame them?

BoRhap view count

Once: 55 votes

Twice: 106 votes

Three times: 105 votes

Four times: 81 votes

Five times: 61 votes

6 times or more: 280 votes

I don’t know: 43 votes

Fanfiction

Fanfics are very common among Queen fans. How common? Let’s see:

I read fanfics: 607 votes

I don’t read fanfics: 124

Well, looks like the writers on Tumblr have a pretty large crowd. Just remember to reblog those fics, alright? Break the unfair like-reblog ratio and show writers respect!

LGBT+

The queer community makes a big portion of the Tumblr community. How big of a portion do they make of the Queen community?

394 voters are LGBT+. Happy pride month, folks!!!

220 voters are straight. Hello there!

117 voters are questioning their sexuality or gender. You are valid and we love you.

🏳️‍🌈

BoRhap rating

The film “Bohemian Rhapsody” was a huge success that drew people from every country and age to the Queen fandom. But it also causes many conflicts and controversies. What do Queen fans think on a scale of 1 (bad) to 10 (good)?

1: 2 votes

2: 3 votes

3: 6 votes

4: 31 votes

5: 40 votes

6: 75 votes

7: 144 votes

8: 186 votes

9: 122 votes

10: 122 votes

On an average, the movie scored 7.6 out of 10.

Freddie’s sexuality

Freddie’s sexuality is a sensitive and controversial topic that Queen fans argue about to this day. I have gathered the various claims and opinions into this:

Gay: 352 votes

Bisexual: 105 votes

I don’t know: 51 votes

I don’t care: 100 votes

I don’t know OR care: 123 votes

Hot space

Queen’s 1982 disco album “Hot Space” received both great and horrible reviews. What do we think about it?

“Hot Space” slaps: 575 votes

“Hot Space” sucks: 103 votes

“Hot Sapce” had a couple of good songs, but I don’t like it that much: 53 votes

Hight

Are you over or under 1.50 meters (5 feet)?

Over: 677 votes

Under: 54 votes

John’s nickname

Brian spells it “Deacy”, Roger spells it “Deaky” - how do you spell it?

Deaky: 546 votes

Deacy: 146

Both: 24 votes

Other answers:

Deacky

Diqi

Dicky

Jihn Richid Diqin (who hurt you?)

Deackqy

Deackyi

D-key

DiScO dEaKy

Favorite song

This question took hours and hours to summarize, but here are the fandom’s top 3 Queen songs:

3rd place:

Liar

I guess you guys love it so much, you can listen to it... ALL DAY LONG!!!

2nd place:

39

This lovely, emotional tune by Brian May is one of the fandom’s favorite songs. YEE-HAW!!!

And in 1st place...

.

.

.

Somebody To Love

“Somebody To Love” is an absolute masterpiece: beautiful harmonies, perfectly-fitting guitar solo, Freddie’s impressive voice, John’s creative bass line and the relatable lyrics make it one of their most popular songs.

Best bass

John Deacon composed many iconic bass lines that you can recognize right away. Here are the three best bass lines:

Another One Bites the Dust

Dragon Attack

Under Pressure

Best guitar solo

Brian may is a guitar genius. He has a one-of-a-kind guitar, an engineer’s mind and raw talent. You voted for many different songs, but here are the best Brian solos:

Don’t Stop Me Now

Brighton Rock (of course!)

Bohemian Rhapsody

Best back vocals

Queen are known for their epic harmonies. They make their songs powerful and emotional. Three songs in particular show this incredible feature.

Somebody To Love

In the Lap of the Gods (AAAAAAAAAAA)

Bohemian Rhapsody

Roger’s best falsettos (natural range, whatever. You know what I mean!)

As I mentioned before, Roger has a beautiful, high-pitched voice. His screams are an important part of many Queen songs. Which songs has Roger’s best “falsettos”?

In the Lap of the Gods

Bohemian Rhapsody

My Fairy King

Best concert

Queen’s concerts are a crazy sight to the eyes and a musical experience to the ears. Even today, Queen and Adam Lambert shock and entertain the world with their spectacular shows. Which Queen concert would totally rock you?

3rd place...

Live @ the Rainbow (1974)

2nd place...

Wembley stadium (1986)

And in 1st place...

.

.

.

Rock Montreal (1981)

Age

We have friends from age 13 to 65, but the average Queen fan is 22.2 years old.

Content

The Queen fandom offers many ways to celebrate and enjoy both the music and the musicians. How much do you contribute to the fandom?

I don’t make content: 361 votes

Art: 109 votes

Music edits: 18 votes

Photo edits: 103 votes

GIFs: 20 votes

Memes: 42 votes

Fanfics: 239 votes

Covers: 34 votes

Also:

Moodboards

Rare videos\photos

Video edits

Video montages

Collages

Wallpapers

Playlists

Headcanons

3D models

Me: Shitposting is not content.

That one person: I disagree with your exclusion.

Me:

That’s all, folks! This was super fun, I really enjoyed it. What do you think? Let me know in the comments. Thanks again for your cooperation!

#queen #brian may #roger taylor #freddie mercury #john deacon #deacy #deaky #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #queen survey

[dyscrasia-eucrasia]

<<Prev | Next>>

Part 25

"So… what now?" Angel asked as Demie shoveled the last few lettuce leaves into his mouth. "You wanna just go home?" 

Demie slumped back in his seat, looking out of the windshield at the diner. He turned the camera over and over in his hands. "Which road are we on?" He asked. 

"WV-2." 

Demie turned and looked out the passenger window. He seemed pretty deep in thought, but like he was conflicted about something. 

"Y'know," he said after a little while, "if we turn around and keep on 2, up through Point Pleasant, we could be in Wayne National Forest in about forty minutes." 

"Isn't that in Ohio?" 

"Yeah." Demie left it at that. 

"I thought you wouldn't like Point Pleasant, with the whole Mothman thing," Angel said. 

"I'm not saying we stop in Point Pleasant," Demie said tersely. "I'm saying we just drive through it to Wayne. I don't wanna go home right now, and Wayne Forest is like… really pretty and shit." 

"Okay, okay," Angel said, putting his hands up. "I gotcha, no need to get heated." Going to a national park with Demie actually sounded pretty idyllic. Angel didn't really get out into the wilderness much - his parents had worked all day every day, including Christmas, so they never had time for vacations. He'd been camping a few times, at the insistence of an ex-boyfriend, and while he had hated the mosquitoes and the lack of running water, there had definitely been something very intimate about sharing a tent with someone under the open sky. 

Demie reminded him a bit of that boyfriend - they were both bearded white guys who were really into making their own food and who were lowkey hipsters. But that ex had turned out to be an asshole who thought that 'free love' meant that he could cheat without consequences. 

Angel wasn't sure if Demie was like that. He didn't know what Demie's philosophy on love and sex was, and he didn't want to pry. He was, after all, supposed to be a friend, not a lover. But he hoped, on the off chance that anything did happen, that satyrs were monogamous. 

As Angel pulled out of the parking lot, Demie rolled down his window and hung his arm off the side of the door. Out of the corner of his eye, Angel could see him lean back against the seat and close his eyes. He inhaled deeply, and then exhaled in a loud whoosh. 

"Feeling any better?" Angel asked. 

"Yeah, I…" Demie rubbed one of his horns, seemingly trying to piece together his thoughts. "It sounds fuckin' lame but I get these, like, panic attacks sometimes when I leave Billy Brook." 

"Doesn't sound lame at all," Angel said. "I sometimes get panic attacks when I go out into the country. I get it, y'know. I'm an outsider out here and it's scary being in a place that you aren't sure is homophobic or racist or whatever." 

"No offense, dude, but sucking dick isn't the same as not being human," Demie grumbled. 

Angel frowned. He did take offense to that, but he wasn't sure if he had the right to. He supposed Demie was right - he had no idea how it felt to live being mistaken for a literal monster. Still, he didn't like the way Demie had said it. 

"So, do you go up to Ohio a lot?" Angel said, switching subjects. He didn't really like hearing Demie talk about homosexuality. He had it in his head that he could eventually change Demie's mind on the subject, but being trapped in a car for an hour didn't feel like the right time to attempt to do so. 

"Yeah, sometimes," Demie replied. "Most of my cousins live up in Ohio." 

"How many cousins do you have?" Angel asked. 

"Mmm…" Demie shifted in his seat, pulling his hand back inside the car so he could silently count off on his fingers. 

"Like… eight first cousins?" He said. "And then maybe fifteen second and third cousins. And some more that I don't really know how they fit in, since they're half maenad." 

"What's a maenad?" 

"Crazy ladies. That's what it literally translates to, that's not an insult. They're human chicks that worship Dionysus, when we have Bacchanalias they go fucking insane. In ancient times they'd get so crazy that if someone who wasn't one of them or a satyr crashed a party, they'd tear them apart with their bare hands." 

Angel whistled. "Wow," he said. 

"Yeah. It's nuts." 

"So, you said you've got cousins who are half of whatever they are--"

"Maenads." 

"Right, maenads. You've got cousins who are half maenad, so does that mean satyrs can like… breed with humans?"

"Yeah, I mean, you kinda have to these days, unless you're cool with marrying your third cousin," Demie said. 

Angel glanced over at him. "You're kidding," he said. 

"Nope. There's only like a hundred of us in West Virginia, Kentucky, and Ohio. I think there are some more in the deep south, but it's not exactly easy to take a road trip and go see them." 

"So… wait, you said that the Bacchanalia or whatever is everyone getting drunk and having sex in the woods. Does that mean you guys go have orgies with your cousins?" 

"What, like that's any fuckin' weirder than a gay orgy or whatever," Demie said, bristling at the question. 

"What do you know about gay orgies?" Angel said, looking over at Demie for a moment. 

"Nothing, but I'm sure you're about to tell me," Demie grumbled. 

"I have never been to an orgy in my life, gay or otherwise." 

"Really?" Demie sounded genuinely surprised. "I would've thought… I dunno…" 

"What? You would've thought what?" 

"I dunno, you're just like… a really good looking guy. I would've thought you'd be going to, like… a bunch of sex clubs or something. No homo, though." 

Angel knew he probably shouldn't be flattered by that, but he kind of was anyways. He wasn't sure if the conversation had answered his question about monogamy, though. Not that he had asked it aloud or anything. It did raise another question as to whether or not Demie had ever committed incest, however. That wasn't something he particularly wanted to think about. 

Fortunately, it was Demie's turn to change the subject now. 

"Hey, what kind of music do you have?" He asked. "No offense but I don't really like The Cure." 

"Some offense taken, but I'll forgive your lack of tastes. Here," he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening up his music app. "Knock yourself out." 

Demie took the phone, holding it delicately, like he was afraid he was going to accidentally crush it. "What happened to your screen?" He asked. 

"Dropped it walking up the stairs," Angel replied. He didn't want to bring up how Demie's brother had responded to his DM. Even if it had been a positive interaction, he wasn't sure if he should bring up Marius at all. The subject seemed to be a bit of a tricky one for Demie, and he didn't want to make it seem like he was stalking his family. "I need to get it fixed, but for now just be careful touching the screen and it'll be fine." 

Demie was quiet for a bit as he scrolled through Angel's music collection. He held the phone awkwardly, holding it in his left hand and using his right index finger to scroll and tap. It was like watching an old man try to use a smartphone. 

"You listen to Queen?" Demie said after a minute. 

"Of course. Why, do you like them?" 

"Fuck yeah, they're amazing." 

"Huh. Sorry, I didn't expect that from you. Since Freddy Mercury was gay and all." 

"I'm not a homophobe, you know," Demie said, that bristly tone back in his voice. He didn't dwell on that thought for long, though, as he hit play. 

Angel had expected him to pull up Bohemian Rhapsody - that was the song everyone defaulted to for Queen - but instead what started playing over the car speakers was The Prophet's Song. It was a good song, in his opinion, but it was one of those album fillers that people never talked about. 

They sat in silence through the guitar intro, and when Freddy began singing, Demie did so as well, clearly knowing the lyrics from memory. His voice was much deeper than Freddy's, being a thick, deep baritone, but it provided a counter melody to Freddy's voice that gave Angel shivvers. 

There was the blast from the guitar as the time signature changed, and Demie lifted his hands and began to air guitar. It wasn't the kind of air guitar Angel was used to - it wasn't big and flashy, and Demie's fingers moved as if he were actually playing the chords. It was more like he just really, really wished he had a guitar in his hands. 

Demie continued singing along, his voice swelling and filling the car. Angel got a bit of that same feeling he'd had watching Bacchus in concert - that massive flood of emotion that washed over his whole body. This wasn't as angry and violent as Bacchus had made him feel, though, instead making him feel powerful and epic, like the main character of some fantasy film. He still felt horny, though. 

Angel wasn't usually the kind of guy to sing in the car, but the energy radiating off Demie was infectious. He couldn't help it. He opened his mouth and began singing along as well. His voice was out of key and he stumbled over the words - he hadn't sung his high school and didn't really pay attention to the song when he normally listened to it - but he still did his best to meet the high notes. 

Somehow, Angel managed to make it through all eight and a half minutes of the song, trading off on the round parts with Demie (which were made a lot easier by virtue of having another person in the car to sing them). When the song finally ended, Angel let out a manic shout, shaking his head and shoulders, which had tensed up over the course of the song. 

Demie jumped. "Sorry," he murmured sheepishly. "Got carried away." 

"No, dude, that's fine, oh my God," Angel said. "Don't ever apologize for singing around me, holy shit. I fucking love your voice, man." 

"Ah… thanks," Demie muttered, sinking lower in his seat. 

"Holy shit, that was epic," Angel said. He was out of breath and had started sweating and he didn't even care. "Dude, bring up Bohemian Rhapsody, I'm sure you'd absolutely kill that song." 

"Y-yeah, sure…" Demie said as he fumbled with the phone. They spent the rest of the drive singing along to Queen, though none of the songs really filled the car with the same energy as the first one. 

#writing #writers on tumblr #original fiction #gay fiction #lgbt fiction #mlm fiction #original characters #wright art #w:demie and angel