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#i thought I'd have a year where i could just get shit done before i decide I'm done but nooo we have to rush me apparently
piplupod · 5 months
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why the hell did my molar have to go and get chipped somehow randomly (i dont know when it happened or how it happened, i just noticed it was very sharp one day earlier this year) right after i was no longer eligible for my dad's insurance that covers dental.... i am going to have to probably pay at least $200+ to get this checked and taken care of,,,, head in my hands. i swear someone up there wants me to off myself I swear to fucking god
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astroboots · 7 months
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CICI!!! I am obsessed with Miguel's chompers! his teeth!! I just want him to bite me!!!
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Oh nonny I knoooooow. They are so pretty! They do something to me. So funnily enough I have this tiny little drabble in my WIPs for the longest time that I didn't quite know what to do with so I thought I'd throw this out here.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader
Word Count: 750
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
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"Can I touch them?" you ask.
He raises one thick and perfectly arched eyebrow at you, with not a little judgment in his expression, as if he is looking at a fucking crazy person.
Which, he's probably not entirely wrong about, but it's rude nevertheless.
"You want to touch them?" He repeats, slowly with a deep sardonic drawl. The way you would speak to a not so bright child.
Heat prickles your cheeks. Miguel has this uncanny ability to get under your skin. He should add it to his list of superpowers.
"If it's a no, just say it's a no! There's no need to be an ass about it."
His lips pulls into a smirk, and for a fraction of a moment, you see a glimpse of the sharp edge of his corner tooth before he tucks them behind his lips, out of sight again.
Miguel gestures you forward, spreading his legs from where he's sitting on your couch. The motion has your brain stalling. You can't help but stare, he's wearing oversized sweats and you can still somehow see the definition of his legs shift against the fabric as he moves.
Shit, he definitely caught you in the act. His smile pulls even wider as he pats his hand down on the meat of his thigh. "C'mere nena."
What does he think you are? A dog?
For all your indignance at the gesture, you still go to him, and when you're within reach, his hand comes up to pull and tug you into his lap until you're comfortably perched there.
"You wanna touch, huh?" he teases, amusement dripping from the words as he smiles up at you and bounces you up on his knee.
God, of course he's going to make a big fucking deal of this. You don't know what possessed you to ask in the first place. You can really only answer with the truth:
"I'm just a little bit curious."
It's the understatement of the century. You are more than a little bit curious. You're absolutely fucking fascinated by them. Feel a trill of excitement everytime you catch a small glimpse of them when he's caught by surprise and smiles uninhibitedly at you.
Will stall out any moment during any dinner when he chews on his food and they peek out from his mouth.
Throughout the years, Miguel's gotten very good at hiding them. Conspicuously tucking them behind his lip that most people will never be the wiser. It's why he often mumbles why he speaks because doing both at the same time can be difficult. It's a part of himself that he never show, to the point that even though you've been together for a while now, it's only fairly recently that you've gotten to see them properly.
In front of you, Miguel leans back against the couch.
"Go ahead." He tilts his head up, baring his throat to you as he parts his mouth, and then you see them.
Those two prominent canine teeth of his. Fang-like pointy teeth on either side of the incisors.
Your ears burn. He never shows them to you this brazenly.
Raising your hand closer to his face, you can't help the way they are actually shaking with excitement. Your thumb grazes at the point of his left tooth, and you can feel the sharpness tingle against your pad.
God, you could cut yourself on these.
"You done? Ish a bit uncomfortable."
You hum distractedly, not fully taking in his words, entirely fascinated as you press your thumb with a bit more pressure again the edge.
"Careful, nena," he warns.
Stilling at his words, you pull your thumb from his mouth as you inspect it. It hasn't broken any skin yet.
"Why? Does poison always come out when you bite?"
There's that look on his face, like you just asked him the dumbest question on earth, then he laughs. "No. It'd be difficult to eat if that was the case. Most of the times it's dry bites. I used to bite myself on the lip all the time when I first got them."
"So what would happen if you bit me?"
He blinks up at your question. Smile fading as he considers your question as his eyes roams over your form slowly appraising you from head to toe. Something switches in him, no longer playful a tangible change that you see in the shade of his darkening eyes that shines crimson.
His arm snake around your waist, tightening his hold on you. "Do you want me to bite you, nena? Is that what you're asking?"
You swallow thickly at his words. Staring up at his saphire eyes that seems to glint with glee as he asks you the question.
Your back prickles with excitement just at the thought of it and for that moment you forget all about your hesitation or any shred of pride as you nod back at him.
"Yes," you answer. "Please."
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A/N: This is nena from Every You Ever Me universe, do with that piece of information as you will.
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iluvmattsbeard · 9 days
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what have you done to me? (c.s)
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master list
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: swearing
preview: you and Chris have been friends for a long time. everyone has teased how good of a couple you'd be. but Chris has always shot down the rumors. you never looked at him that way. but Chris on the other hand? he's been acting off.
a/n: I love mamma mia and obviously I love chris, so I have decided to write this inspired by one of the scenes from the movie. but with my twist of course. hope you enjoy! - L 🤍
you wake up with the light hitting your face from it peeking through the curtains. you rubbed your eyes as you grabbed your phone. to see a text from Nick.
nick sturniolo
y/n wake up! you have to help us prepare for today!
you lay your head back smiling as you reply. today the triplets have planned a trip to the beach. inviting a bunch of people from school. it wasn't really your thing but Nick, Matt, and mostly Chris convinced you on going.
y/n
i'm sorry for waking up so late. I was up all night tossing and turning. i'll be there as soon as I finish getting ready!
you get out of bed as you walked over to your bathroom. you do your morning routine. brushing your teeth, washing your face, and you ended up shaving your legs. you don't remember the last time you've been to the beach. to be completely honest, you didn't even know how to swim.
you go to your closet as you scrummage through your drawers trying to find a swim suit. after a minute of searching, you find a flattering blue two piece where the top is strapless. you put it on as you stare at yourself in the mirror. it complimented your body very well. you smile a bit before putting on ripped shorts and a crocheted cover up top. you packed your tote bag with extra clothes. just in case you actually go in the water.
you pick up your phone wondering why Chris hasn't texted. he usually is the one texting and blowing up your phone. but he didn't today. "that's odd." you whisper to yourself.
Chris' POV
today I woke up with a thought in my head. which i've been having these past days. me and y/n have been friends for years. she practically looked at me and my brothers as her own siblings. but I couldn't push the thought out of my head. I could hear my heart pounding when I thought about it.
i put a pillow over my face as I laid there and sighed. Chris you're being delusional i said in my head. I took the pillow off my face and reached for my phone. I clicked on her contact, going to text her, but, I stop myself. I shake my head as I put my phone back down. I need to stop with the thoughts. she's my best friend. nothing more. despite what everybody says.
"Christopher! have you texted y/n? it's already 10 a.m!" nick yells out at me. "no I have not." I said stepping out my room. he looks at me while shaking his head, "why not? she has to help us out." he says grabbing his phone, "I have to do everything myself like always!" he continues on. Matt lets out a laugh as I roll my eyes walking to the bathroom.
End of Chris' POV
you grab your keys as you head out the door. you get into your car and buckle up pulling out your phone to connect your music. the triplets lived 10 minutes away so you texted the group chat saying you were on your way. you drive as you hum to the music playing.
Chris' POV
"she's on the way!" nick yells out practically jumping. "at least I'd finally get some help." he continues as Matt and I roll our eyes.
as time passes by, we hear the door bell ring. shit. it's her. Nick runs to the door and opens it with a big smile. "finally!" he screeches out. they both hug as I lock eyes with her. they pull away from each other and she walks up to me hugging me. "why haven't I heard from you?" she says curious. "I didn't have time to text. I was busy getting ready." I lie with a small smile. "Chris your hair is still a mess and you're in your pajamas. i'm pretty sure you're not ready." she says laughing.
i roll my eyes before replying, "whatever. you don't need to know everything." she smiles going to hug Matt. "so... what is the plan for right now?" she says grabbing a water from the fridge. "well we have to head to the store and buy a few things. I told everyone to bring whatever they want." Nick says. "then what are we doing standing around?" she says with a smile, "lets go!" she shouts happily. "wait! I'm not ready." I say. "then go Christopher!" Nick shouts at me. Matt and y/n laugh at Nick's words. I ran to my room and got ready.
End of Chris' POV
as you guys waited for Chris to finish up, you sat on their counter thinking. why did he lie? a very obvious lie. he's acting so strange. he couldn't even keep eye contact with you. you shrugged it off. it bothered you because he was your best friend and you wanted him to tell you everything. Chris finally finishes getting ready and you guys put your shoes on heading out the door.
you all take the mini van with Matt driving, Nick in the passenger seat, and you in the backseat with Chris. you all buckle up as you hear Nick speak, "here we go!" you giggle at his enthusiasm. as Matt starts driving, you glance at Chris trying to read his face. he was too busy on his phone. he looked normal even though his actions said other wise.
you guys finally arrived at the store. you guys get out of the car, walking inside. you see Nick gasp right away. "fruit platter!" he exclaims. showing you guys, holding it like a prize. you laugh as Chris joins. "nobody wants a fruit platter Nick. come on, head towards the chips aisle." Matt says, walking past Nick grabbing him by the shirt lightly. Nick pouts jokingly. you hold in a laugh. you all follow along. you guys grabbed a few bags of chips and grabbed some candy, along with some cans of soda. Pepsi, Dr pepper, and Sprite.
Nick ended up paying for everything. “thank you for helping me carry these bags y/n. since these two couldn’t do it” Nick says in a sarcastic tone. “didn’t seem like you needed help.” Chris says as you giggle at the response. “yeah no problem Nick.” you say with a smile, putting the bags in the back seat, in between you and Chris. after the store, you guys finally start heading to the beach. it was already close to 1 p.m.
y/n's POV
the car ride wasn't mostly quiet. the only thing quiet was between me and Chris. usually, he's the one talking the most, being the loudest. but he was so glued to his screen not even looking at me. it's starting to worry me. I decided to tap him, but by the time he looks at me, the car stops and Matt says, "we're here!" I turned to look out the window, "oh wow. looks like we're late to our own party." I say looking at the group of people messing around. there was people dancing to music, people in the ocean, and a group of people just sitting around talking. i went to turn back to Chris but he already was in the middle of getting out the car. i sighed as i got out myself. Matt and Chris carried all the bags because they were told to by Nick since they didn’t help at the store. we all walk up to a free spot. i unfold the blanket from my tote bag and lay it out. Matt and Chris lay down the bags on top of it. “i’m going to go greet people!” Nick says with a big smile as he walks off with Matt. Chris looks at me, “you okay staying here?” he says. i nod with him nodding back walking away to a group. I stand there looking around as I see one of my friends come up to me. Grayson. he was tall and muscular. i'm not going to lie, I find him quite attractive but, it wasn't anything more. "hello y/n" he says flashing a smile at me. “hello grayson” i reply with a smile. we decided to talk while he passes me a drink. “what is this?” i ask swirling the cup looking into it. “beer” he responds. but before he answers i was in the middle of taking a sip. i swallowed making a bitter face. he takes the cup away from me, “okay not your thing i see.” he says letting out a chuckle.
we both laugh together as he asks me if i want to walk around. i nod and we stand side by side just chatting. “i never see you at these type of things.” he says. “well because it’s not my type of scene. i’m only here because of the triplets.” i respond with a smile. he smiles nodding, “oh yeah. you guys are pretty close.” “yup” i say.
Chris' POV
as I was talking to a group buddies from my lacrosse team, I couldn't help but catch something with my eyes. there she was. y/n talking to Grayson. usually it didn't bother me but with the thoughts i've been having? I couldn't help but feel something. I wasn't the jealous type or the possessive type. so this was new.
i continue to take glances at them talking. glances until in a second my eyes stayed on them longer as I see y/n take off her cover up and her shorts. I tense up poking my tongue to the inside of the side of my mouth. I couldn't even look at her because I was too busy looking at Grayson look at her up and down. it infuriated me. something inside of me almost walked over there but my thoughts were interrupted by one of my team mates, "you staring won't stop them from talking Chris." he says. I roll my eyes as I just continue to sip my drink as the rest of the team laughs.
Y/n's POV
"let's get in the ocean?" Grayson says while holding his hand out. I looked at his hand and then at the ocean. “uh i don’t know. i wasn’t really planning on it.” i say trying to make an excuse. I don't know how to swim. but I didn’t want to blurt that out there. I looked at Grayson and he responds, “come on. it’s better than standing around. plus you have a bathing suit on. clearly you were going to go in.” I grabbed his hand, “okay fine but only my feet.” i say with a smile. he smiles back as he drags me closer to the water.
Chris's POV
i put my drink down as I see y/n and Grayson walk towards the water. holding hands. was she trying to drive me insane? she probably doesn’t even know what she’s doing. i mean i have been trying to avoid her today. which was stupid of me because maybe if i just talked to her she would be holding my hand. not his. it was getting harder to keep my composure. why am i being like this?
End of Chris' POV
as you and Grayson make it to the water, you let out a small yelp when your feet submerges. it was freezing. Grayson lets out a small laugh when he sees your face. as you both stand there you spoke up, "it's really cold" you let out a nervous laugh. “there’s only one way to get rid of the cold.” he says. “which is what?” you respond curiously. “by getting all the way in with no thought!” he says. next thing you know, Grayson carries you by the waist and runs with you more towards the water. you let out a playful scream. which catches Chris' attention. you hit Grayson's arms softly asking him to let you down laughing. Chris had enough. Chris walks towards the both of you and shouts, "put her down!" you and Grayson whip your head around towards Chris standing there clearly bothered. "Chris?" you say as Grayson puts you down, "what's your problem?" you continue.
"does he know you can't swim?" he says. “well no he doesn’t.” you respond with a nervous laugh. “well i don’t want to be the one having to save you so…” holding his hand out, "come on." he says seriously. Grayson steps forward a bit, "dude she's just trying to have fun." he says but Chris ignores him waiting for you to grab his hand, "lets go y/n." Chris says. but before you say anything, Chris just grabs your arm pulling you away from the muscular boy walking the both of you away from everyone.
"Chris!" you yelp as you try to get out from his grip. "let go of me!" he listens and lets you go. he's avoiding eye contact. "what is your problem?!" you say in a frustrated tone. "you barely talk to me all morning and now you want to get in between me having fun?"
"fun?" he says with a scoff, "wouldn't have been fun if I were to run into the ocean saving you if his dumb ass continued to push you more in the deep end." you scoff, "that would've been my choice! i wouldn’t need your help." you say.
Chris' POV
she can't be serious. she's mad at me for just trying to be a good friend? even though my reason for dragging her away from the situation was just because it was making me angry staring at them. because it should’ve been me and her laughing and having fun.
"answer me Chris" she says, snapping me back into the moment. "look, the truth is I couldn't stand it. I couldn't take it anymore." I stepped closer to her, "I don't know what's happening.. but you did something to me. I don't fall easily and you know this. when you're not near, I get this sudden urge of yearn. when I saw you with him? I couldn't keep watching you waste your emotions on some stupid idiot who clearly doesn't know you. this is all new to me and i’m confused. confused why all of the sudden i feel like this. but it’s you! you are making me like this. so me seeing you with him? was enough for me.” I practically shout. my heart was beating fast. anticipating for her response. she looks away and lets out a small sigh but I decided to hold her cheek making her look into my eyes. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i was just trying to figure this all out.” i say.
"Chris..." she whispers putting her hand on my cheek as well. before she had the chance to say anything else, I pulled her in and kissed her softly but passionately. she wraps her arms around my neck kissing back. I pull away as I rub her cheek softly, “so what are you trying to say exactly Chris?” she says with a smile. all i could do was let out a nervous laugh and respond, “what i’m trying to say is… you’re my best friend and i love you. i love you more than just a best friend.” and next thing you know she jumps on me wrapping her legs and arms around me hugging me. she giggles, "i love you too Chris." she exclaims happily. I smile pulling her back in for another kiss. this is the happiest i've been. all the worries and fears left my body as soon as she laid all her love on me.
our kiss was interrupted by a familiar voice, "finally!" we pull away to see Nick shout. me and y/n looked at each other laughing as I kiss her again. feelings butterflies in my stomach. oh what have you done to me y/n?
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a/n: if you get to the end where you can read this, thank you for taking the time to read! likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! leave a follow if you like my content! I will continue to upload more imagines and post random shit about the triplets. I can't wait to write more like this. make sure to check my master list. I will try to upload as much as I can! - L 🤍
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ashcal99 · 10 months
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Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale IV
Chapter Four
"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"
Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.
Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, violence, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn
Words: 7.4k
A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Hope you enjoy. Made this chapter extra long for the wait x
Soundtrack
Previous Chapter
Series Masterlist
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January 29th, 2005
Camila sat there, frozen in time, for what seemed like an eternity trying to process what Jasper had just admitted. So, Jasper sat there, unmoving as well as not breathing. He wasn’t sure how she was taking the new information and suddenly found himself wishing that he held Edward’s power in that moment, willing to give everything just to know the thoughts that were going through her mind. Second best, he knew that she, remarkably, held no fright towards the admission, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she lacked the simple instinct that humans should be born with. The instinct to run away screaming when someone tells you that they’re a monster and could easily kill you. 
At the end of the day, he knew that was what he was. A monster. He may have changed his diet and tried to appear human, but he was far from it. He had killed people. Innocent people. He couldn’t even make the argument that his family had done the same, because their body counts were minuscule compared to his. He had fed off of human blood for nearly eighty-five years before Alice had found him. Even with his new found vegetarianism considered, he still slipped up. More than anybody else, and even though he knew that Camila was safe around him, he also knew that she had every reason in the world to fear him, and it confused the hell out of him that she didn’t.
He couldn’t help himself as he spoke, the silence eating away at his resolve. “Can you please tell me what’s going through your mind?” He asked, nervousness gripping his throat as he croaked the words out. 
Camila’s eyes flashed over to him, eyebrows creased in… confusion maybe? “I don’t know… I feel like I know I shouldn’t believe you, but for some reason, I do?” She said, eyes tracing his serious expression. “Can you prove it? N-not the vampire thing, I guess, but something to prove any of it is true?” She asked. 
Jasper’s mind reeled for a moment trying to think of something quickly, when an idea popped into his head. “Remember how you said I’m really good at reading emotions? Like an empath?” He asked, waiting for her nod before continuing. “It’s a little more than that. Some of us, when we turn, we get… gifts. When I was changed I could not only feel people’s emotions like they were my own, but manipulate them too.” He explained slowly, trying to find the right words.
Given the situation, he figured this was his best bet in not freaking her out any further. Eyes scanning her face to make sure that she was okay with what he was about to do, he pushed a wave of happiness towards her. He watched as the corners of her lips curved upwards, the crease between her eyebrows smoothing as her heart filled with overwhelming joy. 
She didn’t know nor care why she had become so  suddenly happy, but as soon as the emotion was ripped back from her, the pieces clicked together. The smile slowly dropped from her face as her mind returned to where had been just moments before. “Holy shit.” She huffed out. He was telling the truth. As soon as the feeling of joy had hit her, it was gone. 
Her eyes widened suddenly. Maybe this was the explanation as to why she felt so strongly towards him. Maybe it was him all along, manipulating her feelings. “Y-you don’t do that to me often do you?” She asked nervously. 
Jasper shook his head quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. “No. I’ve never with you before.” He rushed out, hoping to whatever god that she would believe him.
Letting out a sigh, Camila let her shoulders drop as she let herself relax back into her seat. She had no reason to think he was lying. From what she could tell, all of her feelings and emotions involving him were genuine, no matter how much she wished that they weren’t there to begin with.
“So, is the whole thing about garlic true?” She asked trying to lighten the mood. Everything had suddenly gotten much too daunting.
Throwing his head back with a bark of laughter, Jasper ran his long thin fingers through his golden curls. How in the world was she taking all of this so well? The ball had to drop at some point, right? There’s no way that everything would go this smoothly. Surely after she learned about his past and how much of a monster he really was, surely then, she would run away screaming. But that admission would have to wait for another day, because in that moment, he would give anything keep Camila as far away from that part of him as possible.
——————
January 31st, 2005
The rest of her day with Jasper had flown by, and before Camila knew it, it was the start to her second week at Forks High School. After the exhaustion of her first week, and hanging out with Jasper on Saturday, the rest of her weekend consisted of sleep and cramming in the remainder of her homework. When Monday finally came around, she was well rested, at lest as well rested as she could be. 
Camila had just joined the end of the line in the cafeteria, Eric talking her ear off behind her once again, when her eyes finally met Jasper’s across the crowded room. She hadn’t seen him since he had dropped her back off at home Saturday night. Like a perfect gentleman, he had waited, car pulled against the curb and watched her figure until she had successfully made it fully inside her home, before he drove away. 
Now that her eyes had met his for the first time since she had been given the opportunity to fully, well mostly maybe, process his confession, she felt a weight leave her shoulders that she wasn’t even aware was there in the first place. The rest of their night on Saturday had consisted mostly of more light hearted conversation, so now that she had been given the time to think of more questions to ask him, she had began to grow anxious of waiting. 
She knew the questions would have to wait, however, but seeing his face, that alone, eased that stress and anxiety from her. Everything had happened so quickly that her mind didn’t know how to calculate what his confession actually meant, and over the remainder of the weekend her mind had time to wander. He was dangerous, that much was apparent, but somehow, she also knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. That she was safe with him. 
It felt almost like a fever dream, everything happening so quickly. They had only just met, but suddenly, she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so comfortable with another person. So comfortable with being vulnerable, and content with sharing with him what she had been so keen on keeping from everyone else. Clearly he felt the same, that much she could gather herself, given his blatant honesty with her. 
Eric’s voice broke her from her thoughts as he continued his ramble on about how their trip to La Push Beach had gone and how she ‘had to join them next time’. She had to stop herself from cringing, not looking forward to coming up with another excuse in the future. She turned to him, attempting to give a reassuring smile. She didn’t want to come off rude, especially with the wide grin that was stretched across his face. He was just trying to be friendly, and that’s what she wanted. So, even if his persistence slightly annoyed her, she was still happy to have him around. 
Chills ran up her spine as icy fingertips brushed lightly across her lower back, bringing goosebumps quickly to the surface of her skin. She knew who it was, of course, before she looked up, having already gotten used to the feel of his touch, but that didn’t stop the flutter of her heart as her eyes met Jasper’s once more. He had sensed her unease from across the room and had decided to come to her rescue. 
“Will you sit with us for lunch today?” He asked, giving her a quirked eyebrow as well as a small smile. Alice had been pestering him since his return on Saturday to spend more time with the girl. As usual, she would get what she wanted, she already knew that of course, but that didn’t stop her from reminding him at every chance she got. 
Jasper watched as the gears in her head began to turn, slowly processing his invitation, her heart sputtering at his touch. He couldn’t help his smile from growing bigger across his face, enjoying hearing the reaction he had on her heart. “S-sure.” She stuttered out, turning back to the lunch lady to pay for her tray of food. She sent a small wave and smile to the boy, Eric, and fell in stride by Jasper’s side, his hand ghosting the small of her back as he lead her to the table that held the remainder of his family. 
Eric stood for a moment, mouth agape as he stared at their retreating figures. What was it with the new girls and the Cullens? Why was that family suddenly so sociable after a year of barely speaking to anybody? From across the cafeteria, the two were beginning to attract the stares from the rest of her friend group, and when she finally made it to the table, Jasper pulling her chair out for her to take a seat, the majority of the overcrowded room was practically ogling them. A fact, in which was doing nothing to ease the anxiety that had settled in the pit of her stomach.
Setting her tray down, she slowly dropped into the hard plastic seat, shoulders tensing as she took in the perfect faces sat in front of her. Camila had of course met Alice the week previous, but she had yet to meet Jasper’s other siblings. She wasn’t sure if she should feel more or less comfortable meeting the pale strangers now that she knew their secret, but the fact was, she knew and nothing would change that now. 
Feeling waves of anxiety and stress radiate from Camila, he decided now would be a time to use his powers, one that he hoped she wouldn’t be mad at him for later. He hated seeing the worry in her eyes and knew that her stress was unnecessary, so he did what he could and pushed feelings of calmness and comfortability towards her as he settled into the seat next to her. 
As the anxiety lifted from her shoulders, a polite smile formed on Camila’s lips. Jasper cleared his throat from beside her, gaining the attention of his siblings. “Camila this is my family.” He gestured towards the group. “Alice you met already.” He said pointing to the pixie haired girl on the other side of Camila.
The whole family already knew of his admission, and given the circumstances he was more that content with their reactions. He hadn’t exactly known what to expect from the situation, never having dealt with anything like it before. Carlisle and Esme had been happy for him, and though this slightly unnerved him, he knew it came with good intentions. He knew what coming clean to Camila could mean for her future, for their future, but he still refused to get his hopes up. Her knowing and having the choice to ‘live’ on had no guarantee that she would make that decision, and as much as it pained him, he knew that he would never be able to make that choice for her. 
Alice’s teeth shown brightly as she smiled at the girl, squealing lightly as she pulled her into a tight hug. Camila’s eyes widened, the immortal girl’s antics still surprising her despite already being on the receiving end previously. Before she was given the time to process and reciprocate the hug, Alice had pulled away and had returned to her comfortable position in her seat. 
Alice was of course ecstatic, even though she had seen the whole thing happen already, because now she was free to develop their friendship. She had seen the whole thing play out and knew just how close she would grow to Camila, and like a child on Christmas morning, was practically bouncing with anticipation when he had arrived home Saturday night. 
Jasper continued, stopping to roll his eyes at his sister. “This is Emmet and Rosalie.” He said, gesturing to the couple sitting at the opposite side of the table. Emmet gave a ginormous half smile half smirk to the girl, while Rosalie attempted the give a polite smile as well.
Emmet was of course laid back about the whole thing, only giving him a little bit of shit for finally finding his mate. Rosalie was surprisingly at ease with the situation, unlike her feelings towards Bella. Of course, Jasper knew why. She had always resented her immortality, having her humanity ripped away from her the way that it had been, and she wouldn’t wish that on anybody else. He knew her calm demeanor had to do with the fact that, unlike her human life, Camila had no chance of growing old. No chance of starting a family.
His heart ached at this knowledge, knowing that he would give anything he could to see Camila age into her beauty. To see her grow and start her adult life. To see her get married and have children, even if he wasn’t the one to give her that future. Unfortunately, maybe because God or whatever higher power was cruel or had a sick twisted sense of humor, she had no hope for that life. 
It had been an unexpected punch to the gut to meet her mother. She was such a perfect reflection of her daughter that it was almost like he was glimpsing into that impossible future. He knew that this would be how Camila would look, given the chance. But she didn’t have that chance, and that was his best guess as to why Rosalie had refrained from giving him the same shit she had been giving Edward. 
“And this is Edward.” Jasper said finally, turning to look at displeased expression of his adopted brother.
Edward had seemed slightly bitter about the situation. He obviously knew the differences between the two girls, but couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous at which the ease Jasper came by with telling Camila the truth. He himself would never wish the future of immortality onto Bella, but only wished that he didn’t have to suppress his want for the girl. He knew it was best to stay as far away from Bella as possible, hence why he had been avoiding her to the best of his abilities, but his resolve was beginning to waver. 
Jasper didn’t have to deal with any of this, despite having his own struggles. Camila already knew the truth about them, and soon she would be making that decision on her own. Hell, he didn’t even have to worry about his thirst around the girl, a fact that he couldn’t help but be bitter about. Edward had always had what he considered decent self control with human blood, something that he couldn’t say the same for with Jasper, and the one person that it truly mattered for, he was at his lowest point with self control. It was cruel irony. 
Despite not being able to read Edward’s mind like he could his, Jasper could feel his emotions, and he could fill in the rest himself. He didn’t want any animosity between him and his brother, but he knew that whatever Edward was feeling wouldn’t stop him from growing closer to Camila, and definitely wouldn’t stop Alice from begging him to let her spend more time with her. So that was why he had decided it was time to introduce her. What better time and place to break the ice between Camila and the rest of his family than the controlled environment of a school cafeteria? He had thought, and now, seeing the slight glare on Edward’s face, he couldn’t decide whether or not that had been a bad decision on his part.
As thoughts of anger rushed through Jasper’s mind, Edwards eyes flickered over to his. Edward’s glare softened as he processed Jasper’s internal dialog. He knew that it wasn’t his fault and he knew that it wasn’t Camila’s, but he couldn’t help how he felt. He was jealous and he was finding it difficult to hide his emotions. His eyes flitted across Jasper’s face, neck, and arms. The scars littered across his skin were a reminder to not push things with him. The crescents, nearly invisible to the human eye, were a gigantic red flag to any vampire. Neon lights that flashed bright as a warning to everyone around him to stay back or else. Although he knew that his brother would never hurt him, he also knew not to start a fight, because it would most definitely be one he would lose.
Huffing in irritation, Edward pulled out his chair, rushing to leave the cafeteria. He could try all he wanted to be civil and not start a fight, but he wasn’t about to sit there and take this torture. Over time it would get easier for him to cope, but in that moment, the wound was fresh and he needed to be far from the reminder. 
Jasper sighed in annoyance, rolling his eyes once again as he let his defenses fall back down to their normal level. “Ignore him.” He muttered to the girl beside him, slinging his arm protectively around the back of her chair.
——————
“So what’s with you and Cullen?” Tyler blurted out suddenly. Camila’s head fell to look at her boots that thudded along the hallway towards their last class of the day. She could feel the blood rushing up to her cheeks and knew that it would do little to help her case if he saw the growing blush. 
“What do you mean?” She asked, feigning confusion. It was a matter of time before someone started the inevitable conversation given Jasper’s display in the cafeteria that day, but she had hoped she would have a bit more time to prepare herself. 
Tyler stuffed his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “Yeah, you two seemed… cozy today at lunch.” He muttered.
Camila raised her head, quirking an eyebrow at the dark skinned boy in stride beside her. “Cozy?” She asked, a hint of humor tinting her voice. Tyler was clearly bothered by this whole situation, a fact that she found humorous given the circumstance. From the fact that Tyler had asked her to prom just a few days previous, she could gather herself that he was most likely jealous of Jasper. Not that he had any reason to be. Camila had every intention to stick to her plan of staying single and as much as she was beginning to care for Jasper, she didn’t see that changing.
A scoff sounded from the boy by her side as he rolled his eyes at her teasing. “Yeah. Cozy. You sat with his family at lunch instead of us, and he was practically all over you.” He argued. 
Camila laughed lightly at his words. “He was not all over me.” She argued. In fact, like usual, she had been hyper aware of every touch from the pale immortal. As usual, he had shown to be very hesitant in touching her, only giving the slight graze of his fingertips along her covered back as he lead her to the table. She of course was also extremely aware of the arm that he had slung protectively around the back of her seat after Edward’s whole display, but he had been very precise in not letting his cold skin actually touch her in any way.
Tyler groaned frustratedly. “Whatever it was, I don’t like it.” He complained.
Camila’s eyebrows knitted together. What was it with people at this school being assholes to them? The Cullen’s kept to themselves, sure, but they were never anything but polite to anyone they came into contact with. At this point, all these little comments that everybody kept making were beginning to piss her off. “And why should you not liking it mean anything to me?” She asked incredulously. Sure, she wanted to make friends, and be nice, but she was starting to become defensive over Jasper and she wasn’t just going to stand there and take everybody’s bullshit. Because that’s what it was. Complete and utter bullshit.
Tyler’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to respond in that way, never seeing her angry before. “I mean, he’s kind of creepy isn’t he? I’m just trying to look out for you. He doesn’t seem… good.” He said trailing off towards the end as he took in the expression of anger growing more and more prevalent on her face.
She had to bite back a snide remark as she tried to process how she could respond without sounding like a total bitch. An awkward silence rung between the two teens before she decided that she didn’t really care anymore. If he was going to give unsolicited advice to her when he barely knew her then she would respond accordingly. “No offense Tyler, but I didn’t ask for your shitty advice. I’m a big girl, I can look out for myself, thanks.” She said finitely.
Pushing her aching legs to move her forward at a faster pace, she let out an internal sigh of relief as the door to her calculous class came into view. Lunch had gone well, all things considered. Despite Edward’s little display, the rest of Jasper’s family had welcomed her with open arms. While the conversation mostly consisted of small talk and them asking her questions about herself, she could tell that they were all genuinely nice people. 
Alice had invited her over for the following weekend, in which Camila had immediately agreed to without thinking. Now that she had been given the time to think about the implications of the invite, she realized that she would be meeting their adoptive mother and seeing Carlisle. While she knew Carlisle fairly well, given meeting him the week prior, she realized how nervous she was to meet Esme. Jasper had talked the woman up so highly, but she couldn’t help but feel her nerves eating away at her. She would be meeting his mother soon, ‘adopted’ or not and it was only natural to have that kind of reaction. 
Jasper, as usual, was already seated at their assigned table by the time she had arrived to the classroom. Camila flitted to the back of the room to her seat, letting her body drop into the confines of the cool plastic, as she let out a heavy sigh. 
“Are you okay?” Jasper asked, concern lacing his voice. It was normal for her be exhausted by the end of the school day, but he could also feel her anger and frustration. The feelings set off warning bells in his mind and he was immediately on alert to what had upset her. 
Camila rolled her eyes, raking her slim fingers through the long dark strands of her hair. “Tyler Crowley is an asshole.” She said simply, annoyance still evident on her face as she recalled their conversation that had just taken place moments ago. 
His eyes flickered over to where said boy had just entered the classroom, narrowing as he took in the sight. “What did he say?” He asked, immediately defensive over the girl. 
“He apparently has an issue with you and ‘just wants to look out for me’.” She said, yanking her workbook and and pencil case from her backpack and slamming them down on the desk.
Jasper’s shoulder’s drooped at her words as he hummed in reply. He couldn’t even be mad. What Tyler said was clearly justified, whether or not Camila had realized. She should be warned about him. Just because he didn’t thirst for her blood didn’t mean that he wasn’t a danger towards her. Didn’t mean that he couldn’t hurt her, even if it wasn’t intensional. Didn’t mean that he wasn’t a monster at the end of the day.
Hearing his near silent response, Camila turned her head to see him looking down slightly defeated, eyes refusing to meet her own. “Jasper.” She said, trying and failing to get him to look at her. “Jasper.” She repeated, grasping at his hand  that laid in a tight fist at his thigh. 
Electricity shot through her fingers as they brushed the marble skin of his clenched knuckles, but she pushed on. “Can you look at me, please?” She asked, her soft voice contrasting the anger that had filled it just moments ago. 
His amber eyes flickered up to meet hers. As much as he wanted to sulk in that moment, he wanted more to give her what she wanted. Her eyes softened as she saw the pain that filled his. They were always filled with pain, but this was different. More of an inner torment and seeing it made her chest ache. 
She turned his fist over in her palm, nudging the fingers apart so she could intertwine them with her own. “He’s full of shit, Jazz. I know you would never hurt me.” She said, voice softly ringing in his ears. 
The pain in his heart grew at her words. He didn’t deserve her. She was too perfect for his damned self and he knew it, but that didn’t stop him from being grateful that she was there. It didn’t stop him from selfishly wanting her. He pulled their intertwined fingers up to his lips were he laid a soft kiss on the back of her palm, thanking her for her kindness. Thanking her for her comfort. 
The touch of his chilled lips on her skin sent her heart into overdrive, and knowing that he could he hear his effect on her didn’t help the blush that was creeping onto her cheeks. She had expected him to drop her hold after that, but instead, their hands remained, bound together and laying gently in his lap. 
Class continued, the two working together on finishing the next page in their worksheet. Jasper of course could finish the work in less than a minute, but anything that gave him the excuse to talk to Camila he would gladly do. She sat there, eyebrows furrowed as she worked over a particularly difficult problem on the sheet. Normally, she would have no problem solving the equations, but today her mind was wandering too much. She sighed, giving up as she let her pencil clatter onto the chipped veneer of the desk.
“Do you want to come over to my house today?” She asked suddenly. Clearly seeing that she had caught him off guard, she continued. “I have more questions.” She clarified. 
Jasper groaned internally. As much as he would love to avoid the inevitable conversation, he also knew that it had to happen at some point. At least he would get to spend more time with her, a definite plus. “Sure, I can just drive us after class if you’d like.” He offered. Alice had told him to drive separately to school that day, and now it was clear why. He would have to thank her later. 
Camila nodded, pulling her flip phone from her bag and trying to discreetly type a quick text to her mother letting her know that Jasper would drive her home. Doing so was a bit difficult to do one handed, but she wasn’t about to take her other hand out of his grasp. 
The remainder of the class trudged on slowly to Camila’s dismay. Now that she knew that she would be able to ask all of the questions that had been racing through her mind, she couldn’t seem to clear her head of them. Finally, a bell rang shrilly throughout the class, signaling the end of the school day. An unspoken agreement stood between her and Jasper as they both proceeded to pack away their belongings without undoing the grip on each other’s hands. 
She wasn’t sure what the hand holding meant to him or even herself, but she didn’t exactly care. She already had to constantly remind herself of her promise to keep any romance at bay, but hand holding didn’t necessarily have to mean that. It was comforting, having his cold palm pressed against hers, and despite her internal screaming at herself that it was a bad idea, she didn’t want to pull away. So there they were, walking down the hallway, hand in hand, attracting even more stares than usual. 
Camila let out a sigh as they reached the parking lot, the cool air feeling nice on her feverish skin. Puffs of vapor swirled in front of her mouth as steady breaths of hot air left her parted lips. Jasper had to rip his eyes away from the sight to make sure that he was walking in the right direction. He needed to pull his shit together. Kissing her hand had been bad enough, but he had to stop himself from thinking too much about her lips. Her soft warm plump lips. Jesus Christ, STOP. 
He wished so badly in that moment that he could’ve kissed her. Regardless of the numerous bystanders. However, he knew that it wasn’t safe. He didn’t trust himself enough not to end up accidentally hurting her. He didn’t even know if she would’ve kissed him back for fuck’s sake. And here he was feeling like an absolute creep again. 
Pulling himself from his thoughts, he pulled the passenger door of his car open for her. Reluctantly, she let loose of his grasp, immediately feeling an emptiness without it’s presence. She settled into the plush bucket seat, pulling her bag into her lap as he shut the door softly behind her. 
Flitting quickly, or as quick as seemed human, to the driver’s side, Jasper slid in and turned the key in the ignition. Shifting the car into reverse, he backed out of the parking spot and shifted back into drive as he sped out onto the street. He internally thanked his past self for buying a manual transmission before reaching over to grasp Camila’s hand once more. 
Camila let her hair fall in front of her face, hoping that the curtain of dark strands hid the smile that she couldn’t wipe away. For someone who was so adamant on not dating, she kept finding herself being giddy whenever he touched her. What was she a twelve year-old? He was just holding her hand, she shouldn’t feel like a swarm of butterflies was flying around in her stomach. 
The drive to Camila’s home hadn’t taken long, and by the time they arrived at the small house, he mother’s mini van was still absent from the driveway. She had replied earlier letting her know that she was going to go grocery shopping since she had time before she had to go to work, and Camila was happy to see that she hadn’t returned yet. One less awkward interaction with Jasper and her parents would always be a good thing. 
As they stepped through the threshold of the home, she found herself wishing she had cleaned her room. She hadn’t thought of the mess she had left behind before she had invited him over, albeit a small mess. Either way, she couldn’t help herself but try and hurriedly pick up the few pieces of clothing scattered around the room once they made it through the doorway. 
Once she was content with her ‘cleaning’ she shut the door softly behind her and plopped down on her mattress, the springs squeaking slightly in protest. Scooting backwards until her back met the wall, she patted the empty space beside her, gesturing for Jasper to join her. On one hand, she almost wanted to sit out on the couch in the living room, as it would probably seem less intimate that way, but she also didn’t want to be interrupted by her mother when she inevitably returned home from the store. So there they were sitting side by side awkwardly on her worn out used mattress and now she didn’t know how to start the conversation. 
Sensing her hesitation, Jasper spoke up. “So, you have questions.” He said, wanting to end the torture of waiting any longer. If she was going to run away screaming, he would rather it be sooner than later, because the anticipation was slowly eating away at him. 
Camila sucked in a breath. “How old are you?” She blurted out. Jasper groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. He should’ve expected her to jump right to the point, but, somehow, he hadn’t. “You said it was a conversation for another day. It’s another day now.” She reasoned.
“I know. I know.” He said with a sigh. “I’m just really old, Darlin’.” He said, hoping the nickname would distract her. It didn’t.
She scoffed. “That’s not an answer.” She said bluntly. 
Jasper closed his eyes, sucking in a breath as he braced for the impact of her reaction. “I’m a hundred and sixty-one.” He muttered lowly. Utter silence followed. 
Camila didn’t know what she expected, if the age he had given was younger or older than she had thought it would be, but hearing him say such a precise age made everything seem way more real. She couldn’t find the words to say in response, so instead, she reached over to grasp his hand once more, letting him know that she wasn’t disgusted like he had thought. 
“Will you tell me your story?” She asked, not being able to help her intrigue.
His bright gold eyes met her emerald irises. “It’s kind of gruesome.” He warned, trying his best to prolong the inevitable admission of his past, but knowing that it was just that. Inevitable.
“I want to know.” She said simply. “If you’re willing to tell me.” She clarified. 
Jasper was fucked and he knew it. Anything that she wanted, he would give her in a heartbeat, but she would hate him after this. “I didn't have quite the same upbringing as my adopted siblings.” He said, reaching his free hand over reluctantly, to roll up the sleeve on the arm that she held. 
She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed them before, but there they were. Hundreds of crescent shaped scars shimmering lightly in the dim lighting emitted from her ceiling fan. Now that she knew what to look for, she could see the scars were scattered across every piece of visible skin. Down his arms, onto the hand that was holding hers, a few up his neck to his handsome face. “Are those… bites?” She asked incredulously.
“Battle scars.” He responded, a small smirk gracing his lips. “I was seventeen when I joined the Confederate Army.” He said, pausing when he saw her grimace. “I know. I wish I could say that I didn’t know what I was fighting for, or against, but I knew enough. I’m not proud of it.” He said hanging is head in shame. 
“I was the youngest major in the Texas cavalry. All without having seen any real battle.” He continued.
Camila perked up. “I knew that was a Texas accent.” She said smirking at him, gaining a small smile in repose. Leave it to her to try and lighten the mood as soon as it gets dark.
Still, he pushed on, knowing that it was about to become a much darker conversation. “I was riding back to Galveston...after evacuating a column of women and children. When I saw her.” He said dauntingly. “I immediately offered her my aid.” He continued.
“Maria was creating an army. A newborn vampire army.” He clarified. “Our kind are at their strongest in their first year after changing. Their human blood still lingers in their veins and gives them more speed and strength.” He explained.
“Newborn armies were very common in the South, and cost a brutal battles for territory.” He continued, losing himself in the story. “Maria won them all. She was smart, careful. And she had me. I was the second in command. My abilities to control emotions served her well.” He said, looking down to the warm hand he still had clutched in his own, trying to find comfort in her touch. 
“I trained her newborns. An endless occupation since she never let them live beyond their first year.” He said, cringing from the memory. “It was my job to dispose of them.” He said, voice thick with emotion. It pained him to remember what he had done. To remember their pain. “I could feel everything they felt.”
The crease between Camila’s brows deepened. It clearly hurt for him to recall these memories, and she found herself wishing that she could take that pain away. 
“I thought what Maria and I had was love. But I was her puppet. She pulled the strings. I didn't know there was another way. Until I found Alice in 1948. Now she'd seen me coming, of course.” He paused, remembering that this would wouldn’t make much sense to Camila. 
He gathered his thoughts quickly, trying explain the best he could. “She has visions, of possible futures. They change when decisions are made, but she knew when and where to find me.” He smiled slightly. “She saw you, even though she conveniently didn’t warn me.” He explained.
“I don't know what I'd have become without her. I’d done horrible, unspeakable things, and she helped me get past that. My family choses to feed off of animal blood rather than human blood, but it wasn’t always like that for me. I’ve killed innocent people. I’m not a… good person.” He ended his story with a sigh, unsure of how she was feeling. 
Her mind was filled with conflicting emotions that he couldn’t quite place all together. “I completely understand if you want me to leave.” He said, moving to pull his hand away from hers. 
Her grip tightened as her eyes shot up to his. “No, stay. Please.” She muttered. She knew how her reaction must seem. In truth, she had almost expected worse. As bad as his story was, at least he didn’t actively kill people. It was a horrible argument, she knew, but after being given the rest of the weekend to let her mind wander, she had tried to prepare herself for the worst. 
Her silence was agony and he couldn’t help himself when he asked. “Can you please tell me what you’re thinking?”
Camila sighed, bringing her eyes back to his. “I’m not going to sit here and act like what you did wasn’t wrong, because it was. But I’m also not going to actively try and make you feel any worse for it. You’ve had over fifty years to regret what you did, and you clearly do. I’m not going to judge you for something that you wish you could’ve changed, not when I know you’re a good person now.” She said. 
Jasper shook his head in disbelief. How was she this forgiving? It seemed impossible. He was sure she would be disgusted with him, but here she was forgiving him for something he couldn’t even forgive himself for. “How are you not terrified of me?” He asked.
She looked deep into his eyes as she answered. “I’m not scared because I know you won’t do anything to hurt me.” She said simply.
“I could hurt you on accident. Very easily.” He argued, looking ashamed. “I could crush you just by hugging you too tightly. I know you don’t understand fully, but it would be so easy that I actively have to try and not hurt you.” He said, a deep frown on his face.
Camila’s eyebrows furrowed as she brought her free hand down to trace the crescent shaped scars that littered his arm. “I don’t know what to tell you. I trust you, that’s the best answer I can give you, Jasper. You need to try and have trust in yourself.” She answered.
Jasper shook his head, baffled that she had so much trust in him to begin with. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve her. Seeing the sadness still in his eyes, she rushed, trying to find a change of topic to lighten the mood from the darkness that it had reached. “So, if you can manipulate emotions and Alice sees visions of the future, does anyone else in your family have a ‘gift’.” She asked, curiosity peaking once again. 
Jasper was thankful for the change of topic, already feeling himself beginning to spiral from the continuous self hatred. “Yeah, Edward is the only other one in our family. He can, um, read minds… I know it sounds ridiculous.” He said, slightly humiliated at how fictional everything sounded. 
“Oh god. That’s… embarrassing.” She muttered, her mind beginning to wander. Edward had no doubt read her mind and heard her thoughts of Jasper. Those were thoughts she didn’t even want to admit to herself and now he definitely had knew all about them. 
Suddenly her mind went to his exit at lunch. Was that why he had left? Was it something she had thought that had set him off? “What happened with him at lunch today?” She asked.
Rolling his eyes at the memory, Jasper tried to form the most comprehensible explanation. “He’s jealous that I can tell you the truth and he can’t tell Bella.” He said simply. 
“Bella Swan?” Camila asked.
Jasper nodded. “He… has a particular interest in her. He’s been trying to avoid her because he knows that it won’t end well, and he’s jealous that I don’t have to do the same with you.” He explained. 
“Why is it different with me?” She asked, trying to ignore the implication that Jasper had an interest in her.
His eyes trailed across the bare walls of her bedroom, looking anywhere but at her as he continued. “He has a really hard time with the scent of her blood, while yours is different for me.” He said.
“Because of the leukemia?” She asked.
Jasper nodded again. “It’s more dangerous for her than it is for you because of that. It’s hard for him to even be in the same room as her. Either way it would end badly.” He explained.
“End badly how? Surely it could end in more ways than just him killing her right?” She asked. She knew the subject had to be touchy and sensitive, but she couldn’t keep herself from asking.
Here it was. The scariest topic of them all. If he didn’t handle this just right, if he didn’t use the right words, then there went his chance of a future with her. He gulped, mustering the courage to speak. “He could kill her or he could change her. Both which he doesn’t want to do.” 
Camila’s eyed widened. She hadn’t even thought of that. Changing into a vampire. She wasn’t sure why her mind hadn’t gone there, but she hadn’t even considered that a possibility. She couldn’t help it when her mind wandered to what this could mean for her. He had said it like he was trying to imply something else entirely. He had to know the possible endings. Surely Alice had seen. 
“Are there more possible endings for me? Futures where I don’t die from the leukemia?” She asked. She had to know. She had spent a year coming to terms with the fact that her life would be cut short, but now she wasn’t sure. She knew that her illness would in no doubt end up taking her human life, but what if she turned. What if she changed into something else where the cancer didn’t effect her anymore? What if she wasn’t human anymore? She had to know, because suddenly, after a year of withering away, she might have another option. She might have hope.
Jasper turned his eyes back to hers. This was the make it or break it moment. He sucked in a breath, feeling a tightness in his chest regardless of the fact that he didn’t need the oxygen. 
And he spoke. “Yes… Alice has seen it."
Next Chapter
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lauvgoods · 3 months
Note
hey queen could i request a little angsty rafe x reader inspired by the alcott by the national featuring taylor swift
the alcott / rafe cameron
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SUMMARY : rafe has a bad habit of ruining the good parts of his life, including you, but you just can't seem to walk away
PARTNERING : rafe cameron x gn!reader
WORD COUNT : 3916
GENRE : angst , open-ended
WARNINGS : unhealthy relationship, drugs and alcohol, a few swear words, one brief mention of sex
A/N : first request! this ran a little longer and angstier than i'd expected, but i really hope i was able to do this justice and give you what you wanted! i also hope you're okay with it being so open-ended
𐙚₊˚⊹ 🦢 “it’s been a long time, but I really need to get some things off of my chest. mind meeting me at the country club? our spot?”
the text is brief, to the point. you wouldn’t expect much more from rafe given that it’s, well, rafe, but it caught you off guard nonetheless. the distance between the two of you has only grown after everything went down, after what he had done, and honestly he didn’t expect you to respond, much less agree to seeing him. then again, you always seemed to be the only one to see the best in him even if he knew he didn’t deserve it. you’d always–almost always forgiven him no matter how horrible he could act. 
rafe is wringing his hands, sitting in his car, trying to convince himself that this will be alright, though he knows that it’s just you at the end of the day. just you? he internally scoffs at his own thoughts. it has never been just you. the one person who truly made him feel alive, like he was a person outside of his mistakes. what was it you had always told him? “you are more than the worst parts of yourself.” you’d never thought of him as a lost cause, not once, but here he is thinking about how best to go about asking for your forgiveness yet again. 
two years of knowing each other, of loving each other, and yet it had all gone to shit. as usual, he knew, all because of himself. 
there’s a pool shack just near the main building, the one where he’d first spotted you, where you’d peaked his interest. rather than out getting a tan or swimming, you were sat in the corner of the building, a fancy little golden notebook propped up against your knees. it was cooler inside, so half of him couldn’t blame you, but he guesses it was that notebook that had caught his attention. a journal, diary, he didn’t much care at the time, but when he sees you in that exact same spot, with the exact same notebook, the biggest sense of deja vu washes over him. he’s stuck there, staring at you, watching you with that pen probably writing in the nicest handwriting you can. you haven’t noticed him just yet, and that’s how he knows that whatever it is, it’s captured your attention and pulled you into a little bubble like always. he isn’t stupid, though, he’s seen it on your socials, you leaning against someone else in pictures, smiling like how you did at the start of your relationship. not like the end, where everything was clear by the dimmed light in your eyes, smile not reaching them in the way he loved. he knows what you’re writing about—or rather who. 
after a few minutes of admittedly creepy staring from him, you feel that prickling on the back of your neck, that itch of eyes watching, and look up to see him. he looks different, cleaner, more alive than he had before, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s a familiar ache in your chest, a bittersweet taste on your tongue, before the corners of your lips turn up into a warm smile. rafe just stares for a moment, taking you in. you look the same, but that light has come back, and that brings him more grief than you’ll know for the conversation he has in mind. 
a couple of steps forward, and he’s sitting across from you. the sunlight coming in through the window washes you both in its warmth, melting the awkward feelings that might have otherwise arisen. there’s this look on his face, one that you know all too well. his jaw is locked tight, hands clenched into fists, and he’s avoiding your eyes. he hopes that you’ll still believe him this time when he talks, but he wouldn’t be shocked if you didn’t. he half expects you to walk out before he can get a word out, a sickly smirk on your face as you taunt him for ever thinking he could get a positive reaction out of you after it all. 
“i’m sorry.” 
it’s clear the words take effort to get out, and your eyes widen as they hit you. you can’t recall the last time he apologized, genuinely apologized. not something half-assed just to move on from another fight so you can fall back into an old routine again. kissing, falling back into bed with one another, walking on eggshells, the party, the inevitable fight, another fake apology. it was a cycle, an awful cycle that you wouldn’t dare break for fear of losing him. the truth, though, was that you’d lost him a long time ago. 
you can read him like an open book, like an instruction manual leading you to all his deepest darkest feelings that he wouldn’t dare let anyone catch a glimpse of. there’s fear, and you hate the way your heart inevitably softens at it all. you don’t reply though, placing your pen between the pages and setting it carefully on the table separating the two of you. you wait, looking directly at where his eyes would meet yours if they weren’t so carefully looking just above at your forehead. he never was good at confrontation, not heavy ones like these anyway. anger he could deal with. you’ve lost count of the number of times he’d punched a wall, or slammed a door, all out of pure rage. guilt is something he’s been quick to bury, whether under layers of other emotions or less-than-healthy outlets. 
“i hurt you, i know that. i did a lot of things i’m not proud of. i’ve–” he cuts himself off with a harsh sigh, tightly clenching his fist. words or conversations like these have never been his biggest strength. “i ruined what we had. the coke, the drinking, the fighting, and then the way i broke it all off, i never should have treated you that way.” 
“rafe, can we please go home? it’s late and you’ve had a lot to drink and i just think you should cut yourself off for the night.”
it wasn’t the first time you’d asked him that night. as a matter of fact, it was the third. still, he looked up at you with an expression that left you feeling small and insignificant in a way that can’t be described. here you were again, killing his high and, as he would probably be saying later, ruining his night as always. you knew, though, that he didn’t really mean any of it. in the morning he’d wake up beside you, pressing kisses to your cheek and apologizing for how he’d acted, saying he would try to get better, for you. 
tears filled your eyes, yet you held your tongue, knowing that angering him during a high would never be a good idea. you weren’t scared of him, knowing he would never lay a hand on you, but his shouting was almost worse than any physical blows. his words lingered in the back of your mind. 
“rafe, you know how much i hate these parties. you always end up high out of your mind and leaving off on my own to hang out with your friends. can’t we just stay in tonight?” you’d asked, eyes pleading while he turned off the ignition. 
he let your worries roll off of his back like water, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to kiss the back of it with that boyish grin you loved. “c’mon, i promise i’ll stick with you this time. promise it’ll just be a few drinks and then we can head back, ‘kay?”
promises, promises, promises. all empty even if he didn’t know it while making them. the moment he’d had two drinks, he had his eyes zeroed in on the table in the corner, and was off before you even knew he’d gone. you stood there in the kitchen, turning in circles, standing on the tips of your toes to try and spot him out among the crowd of partygoers. he’d left you again, and it took you nearly half an hour to find him. of course, the lines of white powder lined up and a rolled dollar bill clasped between his fingers. his pupils were already blown, that dazed look in his eye, and he smiled stupidly at you before waving you over. 
“c’mere, i want you to try this time.”
that one moment would come up in more fights than either of you could have known. 
you never did a single line, walking out on the party the moment he’d started getting annoyed at your lack of interest in the drugs, having a screaming match that same night, and it was one of the first times you saw him cry. fists pressed into his face, crouched down to his knees as he tried to regain some control over his emotions. there wasn’t much rafe didn’t tell you, especially regarding his situation with ward. his father had always been awful to him, never making him feel wanted. you knew that beneath that tough, hardened exterior was a boy who had been left on his own, neglected and never truly loved in the way he deserved. 
“every time i tried to tell you to hold back, to reel it all in, you’d look at me like i was an idiot, rafe. Like i was horrible for wanting to help you. you didn’t just hurt me rafe, you shattered me. you made promise after promise and then broke it all in the same night. it’s like you looked right into my mind, figured out the absolute last thing i wanted you to do, and just immediately went and did it.”
the smile is gone, the warmth from the sun fueling the sudden surge of emotions. your throat feels tight as you finally speak, memories pulling free from that little wall you’d put up, trying so hard to forget it all. to move on. that small ache in your chest seems to have burst, tearing at everything it reaches. there’s a burning in your eyes, but you blink fast in an effort to keep it all in. once that dam breaks, you know it’ll come out all at once and ruin any composure you have. 
rafe feels that spark of guilt erupt into a blaze, and despite the heat outside the cold pricks like needles at his skin. he’s already caught on to that uptick in your breathing, the way your knee bounces under the table even though he can’t fully see it. there’s a slight shake to your fingers that breaks his heart all over again. he’s painfully aware of it. 
everyone had warned you about dating rafe, how he’d only hurt you, keep you as another notch on his belt before going on to the next poor girl. despite the worries lingering in the back of your mind, you simply couldn’t attach that description to the same man you knew. the one that would ask to stay over, fall asleep with his head on your lap, the way he’d look at you like you were the sun. falling for him was like breathing, but when you hit the ground it nearly broke you. 
“i know i lied, and you deserved better than me. honestly, i wish you’d walked away just so you’d be less hurt in the end.” there’s a strained tone dripping off of his every word, rafe’s eyebrows knitting together while his eyes bore holes into the table. “god, i ruined everything.”
your bottom lip quivers, and you know that you’re done for. your vision is already going blurry, and any breath you take feels like it’s coming through a straw. 
“you ever think that you’re my problem? huh? maybe it’s you, not me. you’re always weighing me down, fucking nagging me for attention instead of going out and doing the things i wanna do. i just wanted a girlfriend that would be there for me, you know? listen to me and not try to drag me down. you hear me? you’re suffocating me!”
the words shouted at you as rafe paced back and forth across the empty parking lot were just that. words. he’d wake up in the morning no longer coked out or angry, but even this was a new low for him. as much as you tried to hide them, the tears spilled over. he didn’t really mean it, you knew that. you knew he had trouble controlling his anger, losing his grip, that he would beg you with tears in his eyes to forgive him. but it hurt. the mornings waking up, your body sore from crying yourself out until you were dehydrated and weak, then covering your puffy and red eyes with anything you could just to make him feel less guilty, knowing he didn’t actually believe the things he said. these moments, though, made you feel like a speck. a tiny speck but yet also the most enormous burden to him. you loved him so much it was killing you, had been killing you for longer than you realized.
“you even sound like my sister! ‘rafe, what’s wrong with you?’ ‘rafe, stop it!’ which side are you even on? why don’t you go ahead and hang out with her and all her shitty friends if you wanna say that shit?”
why couldn’t he ever make it easy on you, not even this one time? he’d taken everything you ever loved and blown it all up like a goddamn landmine, stepping on all the good memories that you had of him and forever tainting any other parts of your life when looking back on what your life had been like when you were dating him. you’d given all of yourself over to helping him, to trying to get him to see himself like you did. now when you try to focus on who you’d been back then, all you can remember is what stage with him you were in. that one time you had tried to spend christmas with your family? all you can think about now is how worried you were that he might be out partying and could overdose instead of truly enjoying your time together. 
your entire life had been completely focused both on loving him and on making sure he didn’t completely ruin his. 
“did you mean any of it?”
your voice sounds less like yourself with the way you’re having to hold it all in. it’s then, hearing you, that he finally looks you in the eye. tears are brimming in your eyes, droplets hanging onto the lashes before finally dripping down onto your shirt. your face has grown flushed, your throat painfully dry and constricted. 
“didn’t mean anything i said when i was high or drunk off my ass. you were never the problem, that was all me.” he sounds earnest as he speaks, and you can tell from the way he’s rubbing his hands against his pants that it’s getting to him just as much as it is you. “i was so focused on getting my next fix, but i promise you you were everything to me.”
that’s when the dam starts to crack, the tears flowing freely down your face, starting that itchy feeling on your neck as you try to wipe them with the back of your hands. 
“did i do any good?” your voice is wavering, on the edge of a full-blown sob. “loving you? did i help you any at all while we were together?”
rafe was laid out on the bed, the alcohol having long since gotten him drowsy. he didn’t get high this time, which was likely what had saved you from another fight. you simply didn’t have the energy. looking into the bathroom mirror, you were a ghost of the girl you’d been when you first started dating him. it was valentine’s day, he had made plans for a date and you’d even bought a new dress to wear out to eat. but, of course, rafe had gotten into a bottle of wine, claiming it to be the more romantic decision to start out the evening. the night had gone sour the moment he pulled the two glasses from the overhead cabinet and poured himself a generous amount. 
it was three glasses later for him–you hadn’t had a sip of yours–when he’d stumbled and knocked the entire glass down the front of your dress. 
“i’m so, so sorry, i didn’t mean to i just tripped.”
it was with tears in your eyes that you reassured him you weren’t upset, that you didn’t feel like dinner anyway. what rafe also neglected to realize was how far past the time of the dinner reservations it was. holding back another crying session, you led him up to bed where he promptly flopped down on top of it all. 
standing over the sink, still in your ruined evening gown, tears left tracks in your makeup, mascara running as your shoulders shook, yet you held in any noise for fear of making him feel guilty. every time, you reminded yourself of how kind and good he could be. you told yourself that you knew the person beneath all of this, that you knew that he had so much potential to be better, he just really needed to try and for it to stick. 
“you were the best thing i’ve ever had.”
rafe’s eyes are red, eyes glassy with tears, and you can tell he’s holding it all in. 
“you saw the best in me when no one else did. you didn’t just see a screw-up, a druggie, a disappointment, or a hopeless cause. you just saw me.” 
it’s on that last word that his voice breaks, and the gasp that he sucks in splinters any resolve you have left. you’ve never had the strongest will to walk away, only doing so after he destroyed it all. 
but rafe knew that he was poisoning you, could tell even if he refused to admit it to himself. he’d heard you crying sometimes, seen you through video calls with those puffy eyes, could see the way he was the one sucking the life out of you day by day. rather than trying to fix it or talk to you, or even get real help, he did what he does best. he self-destructed. 
that night, when he’d been calling you the problem in the middle of that empty parking lot, that was where he blew it all up. 
“i can’t do this anymore.”
red-eyed and frozen in place, you looked up at him, feeling like all the air had been sucked from your lungs. you were choking on it. he’d gone ranting and raving, had raised his voice, but never even came close to ending things. 
“rafe, no, you don’t mean that. you can’t-”
you’d started toward him, hoping that you could embrace him, console him, and things would be alright. it was a curse, the worst kind of curse, yet one that you loved because it was him. you loved him with every single part of yourself even if that meant breaking yourself to save him even in the slightest. he, however, put up his arms in front of himself and took a step back, shaking his head. 
“no, i’m done. we’re done. i don’t want to do this anymore with you, ‘cause i know all you want is to fix me. you don’t care about me for me, this is who i am. i go out and i party and i have the time of my life. it’s clear you can’t handle that.”
your breaths came out short, harsh, trying to backpedal and get him to see reason, more panicked than he’d ever heard you. “ro, rafe i promise you i can, i’m so sorry if i made you feel like i don’t really care about you. we can work on this if you just-”
“STOP!”
you were on the verge of sobbing at this point, unable to figure out where it had taken such a turn for the worst possible end. had you thought about walking away? more than once, but you rationalized that you couldn’t leave him like this. 
and he left. he walked away, back into the house party that you drove him to, claiming that topper or somebody else could take him home. he left you there, crumbling into absolutely nothing with the worst pain you’d felt in your entire life, like something in your chest was ripping apart, holding back screams. 
“i need you to help me forget you, rafe, ‘cause i can’t just go on like this.”
your hands come up to hold yourself, rubbing up and down your arms as you cry in front of the boy you loved. you want more than anything to hate him, to be able to just scream at him or tell him how much of you he’d taken. you’ve been trying to build yourself back up, trying to fix that hole in your chest. two years doesn’t just disappear in a few months. loving someone in that way leaves its mark on you, sticks to you like a second skin, comes back when you think you’re finally starting to be okay again and devastates you. it leaves you walking around as a ghost, all this love and no one to give it to because the person you hold in your heart is gone. 
the problem for rafe is, he doesn’t want to forget. he knows he can’t, that in him is that love that he’s tried so hard to bury for both of your sakes, that anything he wants will just ruin any chance of what you’re trying to achieve all over again. 
“i’m trying to get clean,” he says instead, taking in a stuttered breath. “about two months now, 'cause i know how much you hated it.”
the both of you know it, how no matter how hard you try it’s nearly impossible to walk away. it would be better for everyone, healthier for everyone. you can get with that person you’ve been posting, he can find someone that makes him happy without flashing back to every fight if something starts to go wrong. you two won’t risk falling into bad habits, and can be happy individually. 
instead, you open that golden notebook with shaky hands, your pen having held your place, and you turn it for him to read. 
“can you, um, can you read that last sentence out loud?”
he looks at you, eyes searching for some sort of meaning to how quickly the topic seems to have changed, before letting his gaze fall down to the words at the bottom of the page. 
“i’m trying, i’m really trying here, but i don’t know if i can move on from him, not with all that i’ve still got left in me.” he trails off at the end as he seems to realize what you mean, and lets out a slow breath. 
“rafe, i knew from the minute i got that text what might happen. i knew, for a fact, that i’d be falling back in love with you the minute i saw your face.” 
the air is still, a long silence stretching between the only two people in the room. the sun has gone behind a patch of clouds, leaving the room darker. 🕯️⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ
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heyidkyay · 6 months
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part One
Matty Healy x reader
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 
Warnings: This is gonna deal with a lot of controversial shit surrounding Matty and his past I'm ngl, so if you're not into that then I'd suggest not reading this! But if you are, then hi!! I hope you enjoy?
Authors Note: I'm back...:)) Back with a series too, or it will be if this first part goes down well! Lmao so pls don't hate it! Butttt in all honestly, I do have to quickly thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for all the kind words she gave me on the snippets I annoyed her with recently and for forcing me to actually believe in this fic because I very much was on the fence about posting again. So thank youuuu, it means a whole lot<3 Also, the skeleton of this was taken from a very old fic of mine which I started during the height of covid that I've just been thinking about trying to better for a long while now, so... enjoy?
And I guess let me know if this is something anyone would want to read more of? Yeeeeah, I really don't know what else to write here now, it's been a while, so! Hi, help, bye:)
Masterlist
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��Yeah, yeah! I’m really into their sound at the minute! Honestly fell in love with their recent performance at the VMA’s- didn’t overdo it and kept true to themselves. Definitely did a great job there, so well done with that one if you’re listening in, lads!”
I was grinning from ear to ear as I spoke into the microphone before me, which was to be expected whenever I was at work. Strange, yeah I know, but only to any typical person with the usual nine to five, because I truly did love my job. It was tough work, strenuous at times, contrary to what most might believe, but it was pretty much everything I’d ever dreamt of.
See, I’d grown up on the outskirts of this tiny village in the Isles, where everybody knew everything about everybody. Secrets were never well kept- you could just ask our local priest about that one, who had often used to regale most of the confessions he’d heard in the only pub around for miles whenever he was pissed beyond being able to sit on his barstool. And it was also incredibly tight-knit, as in, all the kids who went to school together, then grew up and married one another, settling down and taking over the jobs that their parents or grandparents soon retired from. Hardly anyone moved away, if ever.
In reality though, it was actually just a place I’d always felt like a stranger in. Where I’d struggled to fit in and make friends, to form bonds outside of the one I shared with my mum.
I’d had a tough go of it back in school actually. ‘Mouse’ was what they’d seemingly dubbed me back then, a nickname which had travelled the masses all too quickly seeing as there had only been about sixteen kids in both my year and the one above. 
It had mostly been due to me just having been an extremely timid child, hiding behind my mum’s flowing skirts whenever we went into town and much preferring that of my own company. But that fact hadn’t gotten any easier for me once I’d been forced out of school for a few years after an accident that had flipped my entire life on its head. Resulting in me being further isolated from the rest of the world and my fuck-face of a father running for the hills.
Still. Shit happened, I supposed, and I’d been forced to grow up.
Too quickly, in truth.
So whilst everyone else had been out living, I’d been holed up in our little dove cottage miles away from them all, with only books and music to keep me company. Music which had been a true constant in my life and just about the only thing that had gotten me by.
As well as my mum, who’d forever be my rock. And back when we’d both been growing up, she had always had the tele on full blast throughout the day, cycling through the freeview channels that played the recent top 50 and old school classics.
It was one of my favourite things to look back on now, if she was ever in the mood, or when the power would finally flicker and go out completely, she’d spin this old phonograph her own father had gifted her in the days before she’d left home. The two of us would dance around the living room whilst she’d clean on Saturday mornings and then hum to it as we settled in for a long storm, her working on her trusty crossword whilst I would read or draw. It would croon out old French records she had bought long before she’d moved to the UK, and before she’d ever even met my dad.
And I would just lose myself in it all. 
It wasn’t just the basic premise of music that I had enjoyed though, it was everything else that also came along with it. The opinions, the reviews, the personal stories and thoughts, the way it made a person feel. 
So, for years I would just sit down at the kitchen table and write for hours on end about the sound, the rhythms I’d felt and heard, the lyrics that had had me bellowing out or playing on a never-ending loop in my head. And then, as a teen, Twitter had come along and had been just another way for me to express it all.
That was what had led to all this actually. The radio.
At first, I’d never paid much mind to all of the people who had started to discover the small page I’d created, the users that had enjoyed reading my inner thoughts. But then I had and it had been an insane concept to comprehend, but was also what had, ultimately, pushed me into continuing with it.
From there, opinions on genres of music and their style throughout different decades turned into thoughts on up and coming artists, then actors and other A-list celebrities. So, I’d ended up spending an awful lot of time online, simply just tweeting about it all, on subjects followers had wanted to hear about and answering questions on whether I loved a certain album or new EP. 
The account had grown rapidly after and by the time I’d had the balls to tell my mum I’d wanted to leave home and make a start for myself, in London of all places, it had gained well over fifteen thousand followers.
I went to uni down there and met people. People who didn’t shy away from me or shine a light on my odd quirks. I met my best mate there, too. And Finn was unlike any other. The platonic love of my life, or so I’d dubbed. He was eccentric, witty, and didn’t care about what anyone else thought of him. Forced me to feel that way too, slowly but surely. And it had only taken a few weeks before he'd grown rather suspicious of my constant need to always have my phone near.
He had, pretty early on, decided that I must’ve had some secret boyfriend back at home that I’d yet to tell him about and had annoyed me about it at every twist and turn, basically backed me into a metaphorical corner. So to say I’d relented fairly quickly wouldn’t be a lie, and I’d told him all about the account soon enough.
Finn had actually been the one to suggest that I take it somewhere bigger, make it into something people could tune into and not just read about. I had actually taken that consideration on board way back then, but had only acted on it when shit had hit the fan a year or so later. But we'll get to that.
So with it all, I’d made an actual radio show out of my thoughtless Twitter account, allowing people to listen in and actually get to know the person behind the name.
That was essentially how ‘Mouse On A Mic' had come to life.
Yup, I’d kept the fucking nickname! I couldn’t not in truth, it was familiar, reminded me of the person I once was, and who I am now. But the only difference was, I’d given it a new story. I’d claimed it. 
The show's audience grew fairly quickly during that first year, I was new on the scene and seemingly refreshing. I had a no-bullshit kind of attitude that my listeners admired. I called celebs out on their crap and went to new extremes to conjure up inventive ways to get followers involved. 
Ultimately doing things that other radio presenters were afraid to do at the time. Which was fair enough, in hindsight, they had actual endorsers and brands that were backing them up and funding their streams. Me, on the other hand, had no-one to answer to for my mistakes or any backlash the show received. It was just me, sat alone in my bedroom, speaking into a mic.
Only now, it was me sitting in a quaint little studio in East, not too far from my flat and walking distance from any and every coffee chain London had to offer. 
Anyway, back to the current show! I adjusted my headset over my ear as I wheeled closer to the table, aware of the many monitors and cables I was constantly trying to avoid and glanced upwards, locking eyes with my co-producer, Adi.
The girl shot me a hurried gesture, a circular wave of her hand that had me chuckling to myself even as I waved her off, knowing I’d already gotten off track one too many times this recording. 
"Alright! It seems as though we've got to move on with the next segment of the show now! Unfortunately, Ads here has informed me that I can't just sit around all day and talk about Inhaler forever. A right shame that, don’t you think?”
I huffed theatrically, whilst Adi merely shook her head at me in return, dark ringlets brushing the length of her shoulders as she mouthed the word 'prick' through the thick sheet of plexiglass that separated us.
Ignoring that loving endearment in favour of continuing on with the commentary, I hoped I hadn’t steered too far off track, there was still a lot scheduled for today's show that I had yet to go over.
“So moving on!” I sighed into the mic and rubbed my palms together, “It seems like quite a few of you lot, on Twitter especially, have made it loudly known that you want to hear my thoughts on Manchester’s very own Matthew Healy. God, is there yet another scandal under his belt I don’t yet know about, where’s he finding the time?”
I shook my head briefly and rolled forward in my seat. The wheels squeaked beneath my weight and I made a silent prayer that the mics hadn’t picked up the sound. 
What a fucking topic, I thought quietly to myself and sent Adi a semi-amused smile before I peered down at the recent headline she had handed over to me earlier that morning.
It was the same old thing. Expected really at this point.
“Healy’s at it again! Whatever will we do?” I gasped, dramatising the whole thing as I stared down at the images of the haughty singer that were plastered across the printout I held in front of me. 
There were four of them, a quick succession that had all seemingly come from a clip at a recent concert. Bit blurry but the title gave away to what was happening.
A laugh bubbled up out of me as soon as I read the headline. “Oh god, it appears Matty Healy is- just wait for it!- back at it again, only this time it seems he’s gone and traded off a drumstick for…” I paused to drum quite the anticipating beat against the tabletop, and as stoic as I could, I then added, “A joint!” And a smug grin made its way up onto my lips when I heard Adi’s faint cackle echo from just outside the booth.
“Honestly, I swear that everything this man does makes the rags! Reckon I saw an article about how he took his tea one time. And like, do me a favour, yeah? A man of the people though, in’t he? He’s got to be! I mean, just look at this headline. Fucking who the hell writes this shit?”
Tossers, I supposed. But even so.
“It’s madness.” I muttered, clucking my tongue, “But anyway, I’m guessing that most people claim him to be the epitome of a realtime rockstar, and sure, he might just be. 'Sex, drugs, rock & roll', all that shit. But how much longer is it going to last until everything goes tits up, hey?
“I mean, Healy can pretty much do whatever he wants at this point, he’s got half the world either falling at his feet or complaining about him- has done since he was what, a kid? Following his parents among the shadows of their fame before he stepped out and made an actual name for himself. It is insane to see how much he’s changed though!”
And it was. He and his band had risen to fame so evidently, their music was everywhere, they sold out shows constantly, and had the privilege to fly across the globe doing whatever they pleased. But they’d also practically grown up in the limelight, Matty especially. So it was hard not to notice the resounding changes. 
“But, if I am being truthful. And when am I not? I thought that most of the shit that went around about him at first was a load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that. Or just him being an idiot, a lad who’s had to grow up with all these cameras on him all the time and had to basically learn what he can and can’t say in front of them. Slipping up from time to time, like most do. But, now? I’m honestly not too sure… It’s just a bit sad. In’t it? There was so much potential there.”
I shrugged, a hearty sigh falling with my shoulders.
“I actually used to quite like his stuff a couple years ago, he’s got a way with words, with just music overall really. Reckon if he’d gotten his shit together he could’ve been ranked higher up on the list of rockstars. Could’ve changed or paved a way for newer musicians. But not so much anymore. His songs lack the passion they once had, they’re not what they used to be. He works hard, I’ll give him that. But, I can’t help but wonder if it’s just his band pulling his dead weight along with them now.”
I took a slow breath, then gazed down at the small amount of sticky notes I had pinned to the monitor beside me: the next segment. I’d have to wrap this one up quickly.
“Maybe that’s a bit harsh.” I said, “But honestly, I just hope he takes an actual break sooner rather than later. The band looks spent and he just seems like he could do with some time away from all the cameras and prying eyes. Just so he can sort himself out good and proper, you know? Then again, that’s just my opinion among a sea of many.”
Truthfully? I really did think that Matty had talent, and he seemed like a sound enough guy- or at least he had done, a couple of years back, before all the controversy and whatever else. Now though, the guy just seemed so caught up in it all, in the fame, the tabloids, the drama. Unaware of just how far he’d fallen.
Me, I’d seen it one too many times before, with many of the greats even, and as painful as it was to watch, what more could I do, or say? I'm a nobody in comparison.
I blew out a short breath.
“Fuck, that got all serious didn’t it?” I tried to laugh off and only felt a little more at ease when I glanced up and caught Adi’s sincere smile, “Anyway, onto our next segment, reading a couple of your lots tweets! Let's see what everyone's saying about our amazing Adi today, hey? What was it last week, Ads- those yellow trousers you were wearing?”
--
“Oi, will you two stop mucking about, please? We’ve got to get going!” I scolded without any real heat, shaking my head as I held back chuckles, always amused by the infamous pair. 
I’d not long left the studio, having walked with Adi to the nearby train station before heading over to Finn’s, and was currently packing away the belongings that had been messily upended from the Spiderman backpack I was often seen carrying about. 
My gaze wandered over to the other side of the room once I’d teethed together the bag’s plastic zipper, over to where my son, Teddy, was currently in the midst of being whirled around by his godfather, tawny coloured curls flying in every-which direction as his cheeky grin grew even more prominent.
I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards as I watched my best mate laugh at whatever the toddler had just said, tickling the boy’s sides too. If I was feeling incredibly sappy, I’d tell Finn then just how thankful I was to have him around, because he truly was incredible. 
From the moment I’d found out that I was pregnant, Finn had been there for me. He loved my son almost as though Teddy was his own, he adored the kid like no other and had placed him on a pedestal above everyone else since the day he was born. 
Finn was always free to take teddy whenever I had the show to fret about too, or if I was ever in dire need of another helping hand. He was fiercely protective of the two of us and I knew in the very depths of my heart that there would never be a hair harmed on my son’s head as long as he was around. 
I was pulled from my thoughts just as the toddler in question came bounding over, giggling uncontrollably as Finn chased after him, his arms stretched out wide and crouched down to mimic the small boy's height. I couldn't help but notice the matching grins they both wore.
“Help!” Teddy squealed as he flung himself into my awaiting arms, allowing me to wrap him up and settle him safely on my hip, using my frame as a shield to block him from Finn’s view.
"You can't hide from me Teds, I’ll always find you!" Finn taunted playfully, laughing merrily as he wiggled his fingers at Teddy, who was only just peeking out at him from over my shoulder.
Teddy squirmed in my grasp, giggling and screaming senselessly as he tried to dodge Finn’s oncoming hands that had since managed to softly graze his sides. I could only roll his eyes in fond exasperation, the pair never failing to brighten my day, and I couldn't help but feel ever so grateful for whatever being had brought Finn into both mine and Teddy’s lives.
You see, Finn was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother, let alone a best friend. He’d been the family I’d never known I’d needed, a home away from home. And I knew that I could always count on him for just about anything and he had proved that the day I’d turned up on his doorstep in the pissing rain one Tuesday night, utterly terrified after having just found out that I was pregnant. 
“Alright, you lot!” I began, batting away one of Finn’s oncoming hands as he made to grab at Teddy's tiny ankle. “We've got to get home in time for your bath and tea, and I think Finn here has to pick up Liv from work.”
I was directing my voice towards the toddler in my arms but also sent a knowing look Finn’s way, one which caused the man’s eyes to widen in immediate realisation. ‘Liv’ was actually Olivia, Finn’s newest fling, only she had managed to last quite a while longer than the rest, a new record for him really. 
“Shit, yeah.” Finn muttered before he hurried over to his desk in the far corner. I could only chuckle quietly, Teddy joining in too when he noticed, and watch on as he hastily started to grab at an array of items, shoving them into his jean pockets. Phone. Wallet. Keys.
When he was finished, Finn spun back around towards us and shot an accusing brow our way, not too pleased about having been the source of our amassment. Teddy and I couldn't help ourselves then and laughed a little harder at his impervious expression. 
With that done and over with, I pressed my nose against the side of Teddy's head and smiled contently into his curls whilst Finn merely rolled his eyes at us, chuckling before he made a start for the door. I followed just behind, Teddy's backpack slung low over my shoulder and a happy little boy nestled in my arms.
***
People lover @/user1 Imagine being a mediocre radio host and thinking you know the ins and outs of the music industry.. #CancelMouse 102 @/user2  Don't mind me, reckon I just found my new favourite radio show:) Ugh! @/user3 Mouse sounded proper excited today but switched up so quick when that 75 bloke came up:// Soloveme @/user4 Hate to see people supporting toxic behaviour, sit down.  Milk @/user5 Don’t hate me, I'll forever be a matty girlie!! But @Mouseonamic I kinda agree?? Paris @/user6 Do you think he’s seen it yet? > Too_shy @/user7 Probably, it’s trending rn >> Drummepls @/user8 Hope he’s okay and doesn’t take it as a personal attack.. 
He should’ve known really.
He should’ve fucking known.
Even in his drunken state he should have known not to look at what they were fucking saying about him. Slumped on the floor of his hotel room, propped up against the bathroom door, too exhausted to think about moving, let alone try.
He’d only heard a snippet, caught the last of it in the cab ride back from the club the band had found themselves in. But he had heard it, and he’d listened. 
"He's got the whole world falling at his feet." He fucking wished. "Changed." Too right. "A load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that- but now I'm not too sure." Laughable, man. "It's just a bit sad." The story of his fucking life. "Potential." When’s he never not disappointing someone? "Lacks passion." Passion lies in living, mate, and he hasn't felt alive in a very long time. 
"Not what it used to be." Who he used to be.
He lit another cigarette from a crumpled pack he’d pulled from his back pocket. Watched on as a curl of smoke unfurled in the air. He only wished he’d brought something upstairs with him, or grabbed one of the little bottles from the minibar before deciding he’d needed a piss. But if he closed his eyes hard enough he could imagine it all going dark, the world fading around him. 
Though, even then he still couldn’t quite muffle the loud, pitying laugh that escaped him as he continued to scroll through the mass of tweets that never faltered. They were like a freight train, unable to stop.
Matty wiped his nose on his sleeve.
Never had he ever felt so fucking lost. Desperate for everything to just pause for a second. To stop and leave him alone for a bit. The world to let him wallow in the dark, dank pit he's hollowed out for himself.
But what a fucking life, hey.
Carelessly, he thumbed across the dimming screen, his intoxicated mind too focused on the task at hand to remember why exactly it was he was even sitting there on the cold bathroom floor. Something to do with Hann, he supposed, or George. Perhaps another heated encounter? Probably.
The sound of his phone's keyboard echoed off the surrounding walls and Matty breathed out a self-depreciating chuckle when he clicked send on the tweet he’d curated, not caring enough for the consequences. Hardly even thinking, in truth. He was far too gone to care anymore, already knew firsthand what the consequences would be tomorrow. But at that moment, he just wanted honesty. To tell the truth, for once. To let them all know that he knew he was a shit excuse for a person.
What more could the world possibly say anyway? 
Everyone around him was the same. He was simply just a puppet on a string. They’d make him sing and dance until the day he finally wrapped those wired strings tightly around his neck, and then all they'd be able to do is sit back and watch the show. And he'd enjoy every unabating second of it.
Matty @/trumanblack 10s ago Radio shows are sick man, gotta love them! And I sort of am sad haha. And I do lie, we all lie, I spose. But just listen to the radio, kids!
He laughed silently after, amused with himself, and tossed the phone off somewhere off to the side so he wouldn’t have to look at it again. 
Bullshit. It was all just fucking bullshit.
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jpmarvel90 · 9 months
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Don't let me down - Mini Series
Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist
Relationship: MamaScarlett x 16 yr old Reader
Summary: Y/n is shocked to learn that her biological mother wants to get in contact with her. She's even more shocked when she finds out who she is. However, after the troubled childhood she's had, can she find it in her to forgive her?
Word count: 10266
Y/n's POV:
Being called into the main office at the foster home was never a good thing. I've lost count of the times that I have left there with a new bruise or cut. I never understood why someone would want to run a home like this if they hated children. But Mr Woodstock did it anyway. It's not even like it pays well. He's barely able to keep up with his smoking and drinking habits. Food for us kids being the last thing on his mind some weeks. So, I can only guess that he does it because he gets a genuine kick out of being a dick to kids.
I'm 16 and have been in this particular home for 18 months. Before that I was living with my adoptive parents. In the grand scheme of things, this foster home was heaven compared to where I lived with my parents. If you could even call them that. For nearly 15 years I was treated like shit. I was at my parents' beck and call for whatever they wanted or needed doing.
My weekends and evenings were spent cleaning or cooking for them. I didn't have time for friends. I was to go to school and come straight home. If they could, I'm sure they would have not allowed me to go to school. But they didn't get permission to home school me, so it was the only solace that I had.
I never knew love. I would see parents pick their kids up from school with smiles on their faces, hugging them tightly. At lunch, most kids had a lunch prepared by their parents. I was lucky if I was given a dollar to get a chocolate bar. I was constantly reminded of the life I didn't have.
I've always known that I was adopted. Apparently, my parents were doing a favour to a friend that was a social worker. They almost resented that they had agreed to adopt me. I'm a kid not a dog. It's not something that you do as a favour. But they treated me like it was my fault that they were stuck with me. They made my life hell because of it.
I tried to talk to my teachers about what was going on at home. I'd show them the bruises and tell them what they would make me do, but when I got told that I was overreacting, I stopped trying. I had to accept that this was my life, and no one was going to help me.
There was a slither of hope 18 months ago when my parents died in a car accident. I knew that I would be moved into a foster home, but I thought that it wouldn't be as bad as my home was. Which was true, but it wasn't far off it. Turns out that Mr Woodstock is friends with the same social worker as my parents and I was left here to spend the last two years or my childhood.
I felt wrong for not mourning my parents. I felt guilty that I was happy. For a brief time anyway. I thought that maybe I would get a chance to have some happy years in my childhood. But life is cruel, and it wasn't meant to be. I just need to hang on until I'm able to move from this godforsaken home and try and make something for myself.
The only brightside of the foster home is that there is a lot more freedom. We have some chores around the home, but with the number of kids there, we get it done quite easily. The rest of the time, I just try and avoid being around the home. It's too much of a risk if Mr Woodstock catches you when he's drunk or hungover.
Since being in the home, I actually had the chance to make friends. I joined the soccer club after school as an excuse to not go home and I loved it. For the first time, I felt like I belonged somewhere. Coach Sanders is great and it's my favourite time of the week. Through the team I've made some great friends. Laura is my best friend. She's a complete goof and I love spending time with her.
She knows everything about me. The only person who does. She lets me stay at her house when I can, has me over in the evenings to prolong the time before I have to head back to the home. We're both hoping to get a scholarship to a D1 college. For me, it's the only way I'll be able to go. I have no money behind me and no parents to help. But if I could get a scholarship, I wouldn't have to worry.
Our number one choice is Pittsburgh. Laura has family there and for me, it's far enough away from New York that perhaps I could start my life off new. Make a life for myself in the steel city. But there are still two years left of school yet before any of that can happen. But it's my motivation. It makes me work hard in school and get the best grades that I can. Maybe I can make something of my life after all.
Anyway, back to being called into Mr Woodstock's office. I make my way downstairs, hesitant to open the door. But knowing the longer I take, the more I'll be punished, I swallow down the fear and push the door open. "Sir, you asked for me." I greet him, my eyes on the floor. "Ah yes. Y/n. Please come in and take a seat." His chipper voice takes me off guard. I look up and see the reason for it. A man in a suit is sat opposite him with a warm smile.
"This here is Mr Osborne. He would like to talk to you. I will give you a minute of privacy." Mr Woodstock introduces the man before standing from behind his desk and vacating the office. "Ms Y/l/n. It's a pleasure to meet you. Please just call me Danny." The man in the suit holds his hand out to me and I reluctantly take it. My senses are heightened, not sure what his intensions are. My history in these situations hasn't been good.
"It's ok. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you." He reassures me, obviously sensing my nerves. My body instantly relaxes at his words, and I hesitantly shake his hand. "How can I help you Sir?" I ask him, taking a seat next to him. "I'm a lawyer and I represent your biological mother." He explains. I instantly gasp at his words, never thinking that I would know anything more about my biological parents.
"She would like to reach out to you and perhaps potentially meet you." He carries on explaining whilst I just sit there in shock. She wants to meet me. Why now? "Would that be something that you are interested in?" Danny asks me, his voice remaining calm. I don't respond, my mind is going a mile a minute. "There is no pressure to do so at all. Everything will be on your terms. If you make the decision to not meet her, then that is completely fine." He tells me.
I rub my hands up and down the tops of my legs. My palms feeling sweaty. What do I do? I never thought I would get this opportunity. Do I even want to meet this woman? My life is hell. There were days I would wish that I wouldn't wake up and it's all because of my adoptive parents. "I uh. I'm not sure." I finally find my voice, not wanting to be rude. From experience, if you don't respond to an adult's question, it doesn't end well.
"That's ok Y/n. There is no pressure to do anything that you're not comfortable with." He kindly says, but I can't help the scoff that comes out. I've been made to do many things that I'm not comfortable with and no adult has given a damn in the past. He instantly frowns at my reaction, and I panic. "Uh. Could you perhaps tell me a little about her?" I ask him, hoping that might help me to make my decision.
"Of course. Though I have to warn you that it may all be a bit of a shock to you." He says with a bit of a chuckle. I sit back more in my chair, feeling more comfortable around Danny. He seems kind and I'm not waiting for the moment that his mood changes. "Her name is Scarlett. She is 38 and lives in the Upper East Side in Manhattan." He starts off. "Wow. Upper East Side? That's fancy." I reply to which he chuckles. I guess she didn't give me up because money was an issue!
"You may have heard of Scarlett. Her last name is Johansson and she's an actress." At his words, my mouth drops open. Ok this has to be some kind of a joke. "Ok, this isn't fair. You know, it's not nice to play tricks on foster kids. We're not just here for you to get your kicks out of." I hiss angrily, standing up to leave. I'm not here to be the butt of someone's sick joke. Before I can pass him, he quickly reaches out to grab my arm. "What? No wait. Please Y/n. I'm not lying. I would never. Please just sit." He falters over his words but quickly releases my wrist when he sees that my wide eyed gaze is fixated on his hand. "I'm sorry." He apologises, his eyes showing regret.
I hesitantly retake my seat and allow him to carry on. "Scarlett was 22 when she put you up for adoption. It was a very hard decision for her. But she is very keen to meet up with you now. She asked me to come and see you specifically to tell you." He says and I can see the truth behind his words. It's something that I've become good at over the years. I can see when someone is lying. "Why now?" I ask, unsure what could possibly make her want to see me now.
"Well, she's been trying to find you for a couple of years now. But with the adoption, she wasn't able to contact you directly. When you got moved back into the foster home, her rights changed, and she is able to do so now. I'm very sorry to hear about your parents by the way." He explains, his voice laced with sympathy as he spoke of my parents. Again, I had to fight the scoff, if only he knew. "Scarlett understands that this is all going to be a lot for you to process. But she is willing to meet you somewhere that you feel most comfortable. Perhaps here..." "No." I quickly cut him off. Probably a little too quickly as I see concern flash in his eyes. "Ok, that's not a problem. We can arrange for you to meet her somewhere you feel safe and comfortable." He adjusts his comment.
I fiddle with my fingers as I think over the request. I've never wanted to meet my biological parents. I have too much anger towards them. But I also have so many questions for them. Maybe if I know that she is a horrible person herself, then it will make the fact that I grew up in hell a little easier to bare. "Ok." I mumble, not confident in my answer. "Really?" Danny asks, a smile growing on his face. I simply nod and I can't help but notice his excitement growing. "Oh, she's going to be so happy that you accepted. Where would you like to meet?" He asks, taking out a pen from his bag.
I think for a moment where I feel most comfortable. "There's a café on Franklin Avenue near Prospect Park. It's called Cuppa Joe's." I tell him. It's my favourite place to go. Laura and I visit most days and on Thursdays we come with the team after practice. "Ok. I'll confirm when she is free and confirm with Mr Woodstock the time and date." Danny tells me, closing his pad and packing his things away. He then hands me a card. "Please, contact me if you need anything. I've noted my personal mobile on the back too." I take the card and flip it over and sure enough see his number. "Uh. Thanks." I smile, shaking his held out hand.
I walk him to the door, still in a slight state of shock. But before I know it, my feet are taking me to my room to grab my bag and then they're hitting the pavement taking me to Laura's house.
Safe to say she was a lot more squealy when she heard the news. She is a complete Marvel geek. Don't get me wrong, I like the movies, but Laura reads the comics and has watched every movie at least 10 times. "This is amazing Y/n." She says when she finally calms down. But my mood doesn't match hers. "Isn't it?" She clarifies when she sees how my mood has changed. "Talk to my Y/n/n." She says turning to face me more.
"She already has a family. She's married with two kids. What could she possibly want with me? Is it just so she can clear her conscience that she made the right decision 16 years ago?" I share my feelings with Laura, who's face contorts with empathy. "Oh Y/n. Maybe she wants to have you in her life? Make things right again." She tries to make me look on the brightside. But as someone who never gets a silver lining, it's hard to do.
"She's gone on to live this amazing life all because she gave me up, whilst I was living in constant fear. Never knowing when the next beating was coming, wondering if my life was ever going to get any better. The sad thing is, I consider this foster home better! This is the best my life has been, and it is still something no kid should have to go through." I admit, tears starting to fall down my face.
I hated being this vulnerable, but Laura was the one person I felt safe being around. She quickly engulfs me in a hug. She hates that there is very little she can do. But what she doesn't know is she is the light, the one good thing in my life. "I know that nothing will change your past, but maybe this can change your future for the better. If nothing else, you can get some closure and then we focus on our future at college!" She says reassuring me.
"I'm scared." I admit. Although I'm not in a safe environment, I know it and I know what I can do to protect myself as best I can. But this is something I have no control over. An adult I don't know and don't know their intentions. I lose control over the situation. "I know that you don't know what is waiting for you. But no matter what happens, I will be there for you. I will always be here for you Y/n/n." She comforts me, placing a kiss against my head.
I stay for dinner at Laura's, and we talk more about everything, and she is being her usual amazing self and giving me the best advice. I really am so lucky to have her in my life.
Eventually, I have to head home. I give Laura a big hug and start my journey back to the home. When I get inside, I'm met by a sober Mr Woodstock, which is very unusual. "Y/n!" He calls me and I flinch slightly. He walks closer to me, and I hold my breath, waiting for the scolding that is coming my way. "Here. All the info for meeting your mom." He says with a smile. I take the note from his hand, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Here's some money for a taxi to take you." He adds on, holding out a 20 dollar bill. I hesitate but he waves it to me. "Not trick here Y/n." He smiles so I take it and make my way upstairs. Ok that was weird.
I read the note and see that she wants to meet on Friday at 4pm. That works well as I can get from school to the café in plenty of time. It's only two days away and it's scary to think that I'm going to be meeting my bio mom. It's even scarier to think that it's Scarlett Johansson.
__________
I'm currently sat in the café waiting for Scarlett to turn up. With the taxi, I was able to get here 15 minutes early. I pick a table in the corner out of the way. I'm sure she doesn't want to be too much in the open. I spend my time texting Laura, who is doing a great job at supporting me. I order a hot chocolate, knowing that having too much caffeine right now is probably not a good thing.
I can feel my nerves growing as the clock slowly ticks towards 4. My eyes keep falling to the door every time I hear the bell go. My heart rate spiking each time, only to calm when I see it's not her.
10 minutes go by, then 20 and there is still no sign of her. Maybe this was all some big joke and Mr Woodstock is watching me, getting a kick out of a new way to abuse me mentally. I finish my hot chocolate and as the clock hits half past 4, I decide that enough is enough. I'm not waiting anymore. Even if this isn't some big joke, the fact that she hasn't turned up tells me everything that I need to know.
Fighting off tears, I collect my bag and slip some money into the tip jar as I make my way out of the café. I instantly start to walk towards the park, taking a seat on the closest bench. She didn't turn up. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. Why did I think that anything was going to go right for me. This isn't some fairy tale where we all live happily ever after. I grab my phone and text Laura.
Y/n: She didn't come
It's all I can say. Anything more and it makes my heart ache more. She didn't come. She stood me up. She wanted to meet me. She instigated this and decided that she wasn't going to show. I was happy in my dark little world. I knew the threats and what could hurt me. I knew how to keep that to a minimum. It wasn't a good life, but it was a life I knew and saw an exit to. I should never have even entertained the idea of meeting Scarlett. She was happy to leave me once, why would she want to follow through this time.
I get lost in my own dark thoughts, questioning my self-worth. No one has or will ever want me. As if the world wants to add to my misery, rain starts to fall. But I don't move. It's weirdly comforting as my tears mix with the raindrops that hit my cheeks. It feels like my heart is cracking. Which is stupid. I don't know this woman. She just happened to birth me and now disappoint me once again.
Scarlett's POV:
For 16 years I have woken up every morning and wondered what my daughter would be doing. From the moment I signed the adoption papers I regretted it. But it was the right choice. I couldn't give her the life she deserved, at least this way, she was able to have a family that could devote time to her and love her. My career was just starting to take off and having a child wouldn't have been fair to either of us.
My parents offered to help, but I didn't want to be an absentee mother when another could provide her with the home she deserved. When I had Rose, was when I started to look for Y/n. But I wasn't able to do so until she was 18. I had signed my parental rights away and unless Y/n made the decision to reach out to me, I wasn't able to do anything.
It was almost torture waiting for the days to pass so I could get in contact with her. When I married Colin, I told him everything, that I wanted to reach out and have a relationship with her. He was really supportive of me and said that he couldn't wait to meet her, and that Rose and Cosmo would love having an older sister.
I was shocked, however, when my lawyer contacted me to say that Y/n had been moved to a foster home. I had a meeting with Danny where I learnt that Y/n's parents had been killed in a car accident and that there was no immediate family to take her in. So, she became a child of the state and because of her age, was moved to a group home. This was my chance to see her. To try and have a relationship with my daughter. One that I had craved for years.
Colin and I were waiting anxiously for Danny to come by after visiting Y/n. We decided it would be best if he went and met her to arrange for me to see her separately, once she had a chance to take it all in. It killed me that she was so close, yet so far from me. "Scar, babe. Sit down. He'll be here soon." Colin tries to calm me by placing a hand on my shoulder. I go to respond, but the knock at the door has me rushing through the house to answer it.
I let out a sigh of relief when I see Danny at the door. "Hi. Please come in." I greet him, holding the door open to him. He follows me through to the living room where Colin is waiting. We offer him a drink and then get down to business. "How was she? Did she agree to meet me?" I ask quickly, which causes Danny to chuckle. "She was rightfully shocked. At first, she thought that it was a joke and tried to leave." He explains. "But I managed to convince her to hear me out." He adds on and I relax.
I can't imagine what it must all be like for her. Losing your parents, moving into a group home, and now being told your biological mother is a famous actress. "She has agreed to meet you and has suggested a café that she visits regularly in Brooklyn. It seems like it's a safe space for her." He shares and I let out a little sob knowing that she has agreed to see me. "I can't believe it. I'm going to meet my daughter." I cry whilst Colin holds me close.
"Did you talk much? Is she happy? What's she like?" I rattle off questions, but I see that Danny falters and it makes my heart stop. "What's wrong?" I question and he sighs. "It's nothing, we'll just focus on the meeting." He tries to deflect but I don't allow him. "No. Please share what it is." I request, causing him to sigh once again. "It's just a feeling. It's probably nothing." He defends, but he's struggling to make eye contact.
Danny has been my lawyer for years. He's a good friend and I like to think I can read him. He's great at his job and a gut feeling for him is more often than not, right. "Danny." I say lowly, showing that I'm not wanting to mess around. "I just have some concerns. I plan to do a bit of investigating and then I can confirm more." He explains.
I feel my breathing hitch. "What concerns? And don't tell me it's nothing." I snap at him, waiting expectantly for an answer. "She shows signs that she may have been abused. She was extremely nervous in not only mine, but also the care home manager's presence. I had to convince her that she was safe so she would sit with me. It was obvious that she doesn't feel safe in that home and when I touched her, she flinched and was hyper focused on the touch." He shares and I think that my heart broke in that moment. "But she's been through a lot. Her parents haven't long passed, and she's been uprooted into a new home. A care home at that. Surely that could explain it." Colin suggests, but I can tell by Danny's look, there is more.
"That's the thing. When I brought up her parents, she almost looked relieved. It's something I couldn't put my finger on, but it just didn't feel right." There was a silence as we let his words sink in. Danny has been in the game for a long time. Any gut feeling is based off of years of experience. He works a lot with foster kids and if he thinks something is up, it's most likely that it is. "Mr Woodstock gave me information on her previous family, and I plan to do some research and pull together some information. Which I will of course share with you, but it may take a few days though." He says and I nod, not trusting my words in this moment.
Fear washes over me at the thought that my daughter wasn't in fact in a safe and loving home. The thought that someone might have hurt her makes me feel sick to my stomach. What makes it all worse is that it's all my own fault. She could be with me, safe and sound, but I was selfish and put my career first.
"I know this is a lot to take in. But for now, let's arrange a meet up and we can go from there." Danny offers with a warm smile. "Ok. Let's get something in sooner rather than later. I don't want to wait too long to meet her." I say, instantly grabbing my phone to find some time to meet her.
Friday ends up being the best day. I'm filming in the morning but have the afternoon off so I can meet up with her after she's finished school. Colin agrees that I'll go on my own to start off with and if things go well, then he'll come along next time. It makes my heart swell every time he talks about her. He's almost as excited to meet her as I am. I just can't wait for Friday to come around. I finally get to meet my little girl.
__________
I couldn't be any angrier. Shooting has over run and I'm currently rushing to my trailer to get changed so I can go and meet Y/n. I was meant to finish at 12 but it's now half past 3 and I'm only just getting off set. The director tries to stop me to talk, but I quickly tell him that I have an appointment that I simply cannot miss and will call him later.
My heart feels like it's going to thump through my chest as I sit in the car on the way to the café. It's all the way on the other side of the city in Brooklyn and I watch as the clock ticks over 4pm. I'm late. This is really not a good start. I just hope that she will wait for me. When I finally pull up at the café, I jump out the car and see that its' 5pm. Fuck, she's not going to be here.
I rush in the café and a few heads look up at me as I frantically look around. I don't see her anywhere. I take a deep breath and make my way over to the counter. "Hi, excuse me." I greet the older lady who gives me a warm smile. "Yes dear. How can I help you?" She asks. "I'm looking for a girl. Her name is Y/n and I think she comes in here quite regularly." I explain and her smile grows wider. "Ah yes. We see Y/n a few times a week. But I'm sorry you missed her. She left in a bit of a hurry about 30 minutes ago." She informs me and my heart sinks. "Oh ok. Do you have any idea of where she might go?" I ask but she shakes her head. "Anywhere but home." She answers and then turns to the customer who has just walked in.
I make my way back into the car and sob. I'm sure my driver thinks that I've lost it, but I've screwed up. I've blown my only chance to meet my daughter. I just wanted to make things right. To help calm me down, I call Colin, who listens and helps to stop me falling into a panic attack. "You need to try and find her. She is probably thinking that it was done on purpose and is hurting right now." He says whilst I nod into the phone. "Start with the home." He says but I quickly disagree. "The lady in the café said she'd be anywhere but home." I inform him. "Well, that's not a good sign." He mumbles which just makes my panic increase again. "You've got nowhere else to start. They might know where she is and it's already getting late, so you never know, she might have gone home already." Colin talks sense.
I agree and then decide to call Danny. I explain what happened and he agrees to meet me at the group home. But this time it's already getting close to 7pm and I'm becoming more desperate by the minute. Danny and I both pull up at the same time and he is quick to stop me. "What?" I snap at him, but he just grips me tighter. "You need to take a minute ok. You can't go in there all worked up." He says sternly. I listen to him, knowing that he's right.
It's late and I pray that she's come home. We walk to the entrance, and I knock on the door. We're greeted by an older looking man and instantly the smell of alcohol is evident. I look towards Danny who has a harsh look on his face. "We're here to see Y/n Y/l/n." Danny tells him but the guy laughs. "She's not here." He slurs and it makes my anger build.
I feel a hand on my arm as Danny tries to calm me. "Mr Woodstock. Would you know where she might be? Ms Johansson here missed her appointment with her and would like to see her." He says calmly. "It's still early, she probably won't be home until later. She's probably at a friend's house." He states, clearly no longer interested in this conversation. "She's in your charge, how can you not know where she is?" I bark at him and his gaze snaps to mine. "I wasn't the one to stand her up." He snarls before turning to leave.
But before the door can shut, we hear a girl calling out from behind us. "Mr Woodstock!" He stops in his tracks and looks the girl up and down. "I'm Laura, Y/n's friend." She says and he nods. "I remember." He gets a smarmy smirk on his face, and it makes me feel sick. "She was supposed to come to mine this evening, but she didn't turn up. Is she home?" She asks, worry lacing her voice.
"No, she's not back yet. Check back tomorrow." He says and slams the door. "Fuck." I hear the girl mutter and turn to leave. "Wait!" I call after her and she stops, turning to look at me. "You know Y/n?" I question her. She's shocked when she sees me, but that shock soon turns to anger. "What do you want?" She growls at me. "I'm trying to find Y/n." I say but she laughs. "What so you can let her down again?" She asks with sass.
My mouth just opens and closes, unsure what to say. "It took a lot for her to agree to meet you. She's been through so much in her life. She deserves better. I told her that maybe you wanted to give her that. But I was wrong." Her voice seems broken. She clearly cares about Y/n a lot. The pain is evident in her voice. "Do you have her phone number?" Danny asks Laura and she nods. "Do you think you could share it with us?" He asks but she shakes her head. "No." She states firmly. I step forward, trying to hold it together. "Please. I just want to talk to her. Apologise." I say, fighting back the tears. "I'm not sharing her number with a stranger. Besides, she's not even responding to me right now, so I doubt she'd respond to you." She scoffs.
She's right. That is all I am to her. I have loved her even though she wasn't in my life, but for her, I'm just the woman who gave her up. I quickly fumble in my bag for a pen and scrap of paper. "Here." I say, holding the paper out to Laura. "This is my number. Please just let me know when you know she's safe." I say, practically begging her to take my number. She sighs but takes it with a nod of her head.
I watch as she walks away then turn to Danny. "What do we do? What if she's hurt?" I agonise. "There's not much we can do at the moment. She's not been gone long enough for a missing person's report. As annoying as it is, Mr Woodstock is right. It's still early and she may just be out and about. It seems like she avoids being here as much as she can anyway." He logically explains. "I want to stay here." I tell Danny who looks at me shocked. "I just want to make sure she gets home. I won't bother her." I tell him and he nods. "I'll stay with you. If she's not back home by midnight I can contact a friend at the NYPD." He offers and I pull him into a grateful hug.
So, that's what we do. I send my driver home and Danny and I sit in his car, our eyes on the group home, waiting for Y/n to come home. The closer it gets to midnight, the more worry I feel. I keep checking my phone to see if Laura has texted me but nothing.
It's 11:45 and I see a dark shadow getting closer to the house. "Is that her?" I ask. Although I've seen pictures of her, Danny is the only one to have met her face to face. He looks up and nods. I start to cry when I see her dejected form. Her head hanging low, he clothes soaked through from the rain. I reach for the door handle, but before I touch it, Danny stops me. "Don't Scarlett. We'll come by tomorrow and see if she'll meet you. But it's late and this is highly inappropriate." He tells me. Every part of my body wants to ignore him and go to her. To apologise profusely. But my head tells me that he's right. I want to do this the proper way.
He drives me home and Colin is waiting at the door for me. I practically fall into his arms sobbing. "I'll come by tomorrow. I'll have the full report ready for you and we'll go through it together. Then we'll head to the group home and see if she'd be willing to meet you." Danny says as I enter the house. "Thank you. I appreciate everything you're doing." I tell him honestly. I don't know what I would have done without him!
I don't sleep much at all that night. Every time sleep approached, I would remember that I let her down twice now. That I don't deserve to have the chance to have her in my life. But I know that I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is. It's selfish, but I want to give her the life she deserves. The one that I should have given her when she was born.
When morning eventually comes round, Colin gets up with me to make me eat something for breakfast. He had dropped the kids around my mom's house last night so we could have the time to sort everything out. My mom was more than happy to help. She's so excited that Y/n might be a part of our lives again.
At 10am, Danny arrives and comes in with a file in hand. My heart rate picks up as I know we're about to get a much clearer story of what Y/n's life has been like. He takes a seat, and I instantly can tell that whatever is in that file isn't good. Danny wouldn't be a good poker player, that's for sure. "Ok. So, I've done some in depth research into Y/n's life and I believe that I have a much clearer picture of things. But I must warn you that some of this may not be easy listening." He isn't one to beat around the bush, but hearing those words makes my breathing hitch.
"Y/n was adopted by Phil and Katie Y/l/n. They lived in Brooklyn the whole time. I have spoken with her schools and was able to get a better picture of her life. She didn't do any after school clubs and was very isolated. She would rush to get home each day and often would worry if she was late. She did raise concerns with two of her teachers when she was 11, but both teachers deemed that she was over-reacting." He starts off, placing school reports out in front of us. "What were the concerns?" I ask, a fire building within. "In the report, she said her parents were mean and weren't nice to her. They directly quoted her. They note a couple of bruises but claim they could have been from anything." Danny explains, a frown on his own face.
"The school reports after these days show that Y/n became more secluded and insular. However, she was at an underfunded school that didn't have the resources to be able to support her. She effectively gets lost in the system." Danny shares. I squeeze Colin's hand tighter, needing any comfort that I could get. "I also have her hospital records." Danny starts and I hear the hesitation in his voice. "She was admitted on a number of occasions for injuries ranging from broken bones to lacerations. On her 10th visit, one of the doctors referred her back to the social worker with concerns of abuse. However, it seems like this went no further than that." Danny shares, with a look of pity on his face.
"This is where things get a bit more difficult." He starts. "More difficult than the fact that it seems like my daughter was in an abusive home yet was failed by both the educational and social systems?" I snap. How could this get any worse? "It seems that Y/n's social worker arranged the adoption with her parents and then moved her into this particular group home once they passed. It's actually outside of Y/n's school district so wouldn't be a suitable placement. On further investigation, I have the belief that they were working to take money from the state through the adoption and fostering of Y/n." His explanation shows how she was only seen a pawn in their game for a quick buck.
"I've contacted the NYPD and given them all the evidence that I have, and they are going to start an investigation. However, until they have more concrete evidence, they won't be able to move Y/n or any of the children from Mr Woodstock's care. It could take a couple of weeks and from there she would then be moved to another care home." He informs us. I'm glad that they are being investigated, but it's not quick enough. I need her to be safe now.
"Can we take her in? She's my daughter after all." I ask, but the drop of Danny's gaze makes me fear his answer. "That is where things get a bit tricky. When you put Y/n up for adoption, you signed away your parental rights. You would have to get approved to be a foster carer first and then have to go through the courts to adopt Y/n. Through all of this Y/n would have to consent as she's 16." He explains. "Well, can we get an application started so we can at least start that process? We can then work towards adoption." Colin steps in and I smile at his confidence and commitment.
"Of course, if that's what you both want. We may be able to petition the state to speed the process along as you are her birth mother. But you'd have to go before a judge." Danny responds. "Do it. I will do whatever I have to do to get her back in our lives." I tell Danny firmly. "Do you agree Colin?" He asks, moving his gaze to my husband. "I 100% support Scarlett. We discussed this when she wanted to approach Y/n. The end goal was always to have her back with us." He says with a smile, leaning down to place a kiss to my head. "Ok, well I'll start the petition later today." Danny smiles, taking a note in his pad in front of him.
"Can we still go and visit her this afternoon?" I ask, unsure if it's still the right thing to do. "We can try, but it's important that we do this all on Y/n's terms. She's not had any adults in her life support her like she has needed. She has been failed on a number of occasions and we need to make sure she is comfortable before proceeding." Danny tells me. "Of course. I only want what's best for her." I respond.
"Ok. Well, I'll call My Woodstock and arrange a meeting this afternoon. In the meantime, I can leave her file with you if you'd like to read more. But please read it with care. There is a lot in there that isn't an easy read." He says whilst gathering his things. "I'll call you when I have a time to go and see her." He says, hugging us goodbye and heading out.
Colin and I take the time to read through the file. Danny was right, it was certainly not an easy read. With each page my heart broke even more. She had been through so much. She is 16 and never experienced a loving home. "I failed her." I whisper as I finish reading over her hospital record detailing each injury she had treated. It makes me wonder how many times she was hurt and they didn't take her to the hospital. "You didn't fail her Scarlett." Colin tries to defend but I shake my head.
"If I kept her, she wouldn't have gone to those monsters. She would have been loved. I was so selfish, putting myself and my career first. My parents offered to help and yet I didn't want the inconvenience." I start to cry as I fall into Colin's hold. "But you thought that she was going to go to a loving home. You had no control over that. She was used by a sick person in power. You had no way of knowing that. You trusted that the state would take care of her, but they are the ones that truly failed her." He tells me with conviction. "But." "No buts. Yes, yesterday could have gone better. But we'll go and see her today and start to make things right. We'll show her that we want to give her a home that she is worthy of. A family that loves her." He reassures me.
I couldn't be more grateful for this man. He has been so supportive through it all. I was terrified when I told him about Y/n. Worried that he might leave me, but he didn't. He asked me what I wanted and has been by my side ever since. I'm lucky to have him in my life.
Danny calls to confirm that we're heading over at 3pm. He's asked Mr Woodstock to not tell Y/n in fear she'll leave the home knowing that we're going. We meet Danny there a little before 3 and Colin says that he'll wait in the car until he's needed. I'm really nervous as I start walking towards the house. I have to fight the anger that is building when I think about the life Y/n has here and that Mr Woodstock isn't innocent in it all. But I need to keep my cool so I can keep Y/n safe.
We're guided through into an office space with a sofa and Mr Woodstock asks one of the girls to go and get Y/n. We take a seat and I'm sure I can feel my heart about to beat out of my chest. I'm actually about to meet my daughter. The next couple of minutes seems to drag by as Mr Woodstock tries to make small talk. Thankfully, there is finally a knock at the door and my head shoots up to look.
The door slowly creaks open, and I see Y/n walk in with her head down. "You asked to see me Mr Woodstock." Her voice is hoarse like she's been crying, and she hasn't even noticed anyone else is in the room. "Y/n we have guests. Please don't be rude and look up." Mr Woodstock exhales in frustration.
As she lifts her head her eyes land on me, and I see a sadness flash through them. That's until I see the dark bruising forming around her eye. I go to stand up but Danny places a hand on my knee. I then go to ask what happened, but Mr Woodstock is quickly out of his seat. I see Y/n flinch as he approaches her. "I thought I told you to cover that up." He hisses at her. "I'm sorry Sir. I didn't know you had guests." She quivered.
It is taking everything in me to not stand up and punch that asshole. I can see that Y/n is clearly fearful of him. Was he the one that did that to her?! "Well, it's too late now. Come in and see your visitors. I'll be in the living room." He says, marching out of the room, leaving Y/n stood with a slight shake to her body. I just want to engulf her in a hug and tell her that she's safe and that I'll never let anyone hurt her again. "I'm not sure if you remember me but we meet a few days ago." Danny starts calmly. "I remember you Mr Osborne." She speaks politely, though her gaze is fixated on her hands. "Please, call me Danny." He tells her with a smile. "Why don't you come and sit with us." He encourages her, holding his hand to point to the empty chair opposite us.
She slowly makes her way to the chair and takes a seat. "I would like to introduce you to Scarlett. She is your biological mother." Danny says, turning to me. Y/n doesn't look up and my smile falters. "Hi Y/n. It's an honour to meet you." I tell her, fighting back tears. I never thought I would find my daughter in a state like this. So, broken. But when I look at her, I see myself in her. She's got brown hair, but her facial features are just like mine.
"I am so sorry that I was late to meet you yesterday. I got held up at work and I didn't have a number to get hold of you with." I try to explain but her gaze doesn't move. "I went to the café, but the owner said that you had already left. So, I came here but you hadn't come back yet. I really am sorry. I never meant to leave you on your own. I was looking forward to seeing you more than anything. Please believe that." I practically beg her.
Her head slowly lifts, and she makes direct eye contact for me for the first time since she came in here. "It's ok. I'm used to being let down." She mumbles. "It's not ok Y/n. I made a promise to meet you and I was so excited. I should have done more to let you know that I was running late. I hope that you could maybe let me make it up to you." I tell her, wanting her to know that she shouldn't accept being let down. "I'll give you some time. I'll be just outside if you need me." Danny says, standing and leaving us be.
An awkward silence falls over us as I can't stop staring at her black eye. "How did you get that?" I ask her, pointing to her eye. "I fell." She responds bluntly. I don't believe her, but I don't want to push her just yet. Silence falls over us again whilst I think about what I want to say. "It was the biggest mistake. Giving you up." I tell her and that seems to get her attention. "Then why did you?" She asks, hurt evident across her face.
I sit forward so that our knees are almost touching. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I was 22 and my career was taking off. I made a selfish decision. But I soon realised the mistake I made, but I couldn't change it. I had signed away my parental rights." I explain, embarrassed by admitting my failings. "I couldn't contact you until you turned 18 or you contacted me. So, I just had to wait. But when your parents passed and you were returned to the care system, I was able to contact you directly." I explain how I was able to finally get in touch.
"I know that it may not seem like it after giving you up and missing our meeting yesterday, but I really want to get to know you Y/n. To have you in my life. My husband can't wait to meet you either." I tell her with a chuckle. But those words seem to do the opposite of what I hoped. "You have two children?" She asks me. "Well, I have three including you." I respond, trying to keep my smile on my face. "But you have two others that live with you." She clarifies and I nod. "You already have your family. I'm just a stranger." She sniffles.
I reach out and take her hand in mine. The flinch making my heart break even more. "No. You are the missing piece. You are my family. I may be a stranger to you, but I have spent every day loving you. Wishing that I had made a different decision all those years ago. I would wonder what you were doing and what you wanted to be when you grew up. I wondered if you liked sports and what type of music you liked. You were always on my mind." I tell her truthfully. "When I had Rose and Cosmo, it was a bittersweet moment. Each time it reminded me of the mistake I had made. That I could have had you in my life too. Being part of my family." I add on.
"Who's my father?" She asks, a question that I was expecting to come at some point. I look down a little ashamed. "I don't know. It was a one night stand. I didn't know his name." I admit. When I lift my gaze, I see hers already on me, studying me. "What is it you want from me?" She asks, almost with an annoyance to her voice. "Truthfully?" I ask her and she nods. "I would love to have a chance to be your mother. But I understand that you may not have the same desire." I tell her, feeling sick at the thought that she may never want to see me again.
"What do you want from all of this?" I ask her, turning the question back around. She sighs and rubs at her forehead as she formulates a response. "I have no idea." She chuckles lightly. "I never expected this to happen. It's all just a bit much." She admits and I nod understanding that this must all be overwhelming to her. "Would you want to be a part of my life?" I ask her tentatively, scared of what her response might be. "I really don't know Scarlett. I don't know you and although you say you love me, you don't know me either." She responds and I smile at her maturity.
"Then let's get to know each other. Spend time together. You can meet Colin and the kids. There would be no pressure on you at all. If this is something you don't want, then we can stop. As much as that would hurt, what is important is what you want." I share so she can see she has the control. "What would you tell your kids?" She asks. "I'd love to tell them the truth. But for now, if you're not comfortable with that, we can just say you're a friend and go from there." I offer up. There's a pause and silence falls once again as she thinks of her response. I feel like I'm holding my breath the whole time. "Ok. I think I'd like to get to know you. But..." My smile grows impossibly wide at her words, though it feels like my heart stops at the word but. "Please don't let me down again." She whispers, her whole body deflating.
I instantly give her hand a squeeze to gain her attention. "Hey. Listen to me." I say softly as I reach forward to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. "I promise that you will come first. I will be here every step of the way. I will not let you down again. I just want you to be safe and happy." I tell her through my own tears. She only nods in return and I lean forward to pull her into a hug. She tenses initially but soon melts into it.
After we both calm down a little, I sit back and my gaze lands on her black eye once again. "Now can you tell me how you really got that?" I ask her and I see her tense once again. "I told you..." She starts but I quickly shake my head and step in. "I know that you didn't fall. Did Mr Woodstock do that to you?" I ask her cautiously. Her head drops but the small nod of confirmation doesn't go unnoticed. My breathing hitches at the thought and I feel anger rush through me. "Why?" I ask slightly more harshly than I intended.
When she doesn't answer, I reach out and take her hand, slowly rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. "He was mad that I was late home and that you and Danny came looking for me when he was drunk." She explains. "Is this the first time that he's done something like this? Are you safe here?" I question her, terrified of what she's going to say. The shake of her head shatters my already broken heart.
I wrap my arms around her trying to provide her any comfort that I can. "I promise you that I will keep you safe. I won't let him lay another finger on you." I promise her whilst gently rubbing my hands up and down her back. After a while, I go and let Danny in. Y/n explains what happened to her and Danny is straight onto the phone to the Police and Social Services.
As the police car arrives, I see Colin's face appear at the door, worry etched across it. "I'll be right back." I tell Y/n as she is with Danny and the police. I greet Colin and fall into his arms. He holds me tight and places a kiss against my head. "I saw the police and got worried. Is that her?" He asks, nodding his head behind me. I turn and smile when I see her. "Yeah. That's her." I confirm. "What happened to her face?" He asks and my body deflates. "Oh Scar." He says when the realisation hits him.
The police arrest Mr Woodstock after some of the other kids admitted that he had also hurt them. When social services arrived, Danny made sure to make them aware of the impending investigation onto Harry Lycett who was Y/n's social worker. He then returns to Colin and me. "What happens now?" I ask him. "They're arranging for temporary placements for the kids for the foreseeable future." He replies. "What about Y/n?" I ask, worried that I'm going to miss my chance. "She'll be found a foster home for the time being." He responds. "Can't she come with us?" I ask him in a panic.
Colin agrees with me as Danny sighs. "I'm not sure if that's possible. It's a Saturday and I won't be able to get in front of judge until Monday at the earliest." He shares sadly. He looks between Colin and I and sighs once again. "Give me a minute." He says, before heading towards one of the social workers.
We both wait anxiously for Danny to return. We watch him talk with the social worker who then makes a phone call. Eventually, he starts to make his way back over towards us and I can't tell what he's feeling. "Ok. I've spoken with the social worker and explained the situation. They have agreed to you having custody until Monday. After that, it'll be down to the judge to decide." He says and I let out a little squeal. "Scarlett don't get your hopes up. This could all be temporary." Danny tells me with a stern voice. "I know. But I have a chance. That's all I need." I respond with a smile. "Do you want to meet her?" I turn to face Colin and see his smile grow. He nods and I take his hand, walking back towards the office.
Y/n is sat in a chair on her own, fear across her face as she awaits her fate, her focus on fiddling with the hem of her shirt. This has been an overwhelming day for her. She's had to explain to the police what she's been through and now she's about to find out she's moving again. I take the seat next to her and Colin sits opposite. "Y/n, I'd like you to meet my husband, Colin." I introduce them. "Colin, this is my daughter Y/n." I say with a smile. I notice Y/n's head snap to look at me when I refer to her as my daughter and I see a slight tug at her lips. "It's lovely to meet you Y/n." Colin greets, holding his hand out.
Y/n takes it and gives it a firm shake. "You too Colin." She smiles. We chat for a little before Y/n turns to Danny, who's stood in the doorway. "What happens now?" She asks. Danny looks to me and nods, so I turn to fully face Y/n. "Social Services are closing the group home and finding alternative homes for everyone. Danny has spoken with the social workers, and they have agreed that you can stay with us this weekend until we're able to get our official fostering status." I explain, almost holding my breath as I wait for her response.
"Why are you getting your fosters license?" She asks. "Well, if things go well, we'd like to official adopt you. But we'd have to foster you first before the adoption could be processed." Colin steps in to show that he is just as involved in this decision as I am. "Wait, what?" She asks shocked. "I meant what I said Y/n. I want to be a mother to you. But if that's not what you want, then we can just foster you until you find an alternative home." I assure her, still hating the thought that she won't want to be a part of our family. "So, what do you say? Do you want to come home with us, and we can take it one day at a time?" I ask her with a shake to my voice.
It feels like time stops as I look at Y/n waiting for her to answer. My focus is on the 16 year old who's life has just been turned upside down, again. Internally, I'm begging that she's going to say yes. That I'll get a chance to give her the loving home that she deserves. After what seems like hours Y/n looks up to me opening her mouth. "Scarlett I...."
Part 2
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starrgaziinggg · 3 months
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FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS | LEE MINHO
PART NINE -> epilogue (6k words)
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"JEONGIN!"
There's moments in life when you're genuinely terrified. Like when you used to get called on from your scariest teacher with no clue what the answer to the question was. Or when you wake up in the middle of the night after hearing a loud noise and can't move a muscle for hours afterwards.
Now is one of those instances. You feel yourself practically jump out your skin when you hear Seungmin screech the younger boys name, taking your sunglasses off of your face instantly to catch a glimpse of the commotion.
How naive of you to expect a relaxing, stress relieving getaway with your friends. How naive indeed.
"You've crossed the line this time, kiddo," Seungmin seethes, traipsing round the decking in search of his target. "Where the hell is he?"
"Fuck me if I know," you say lazily, placing your sunglasses back on your face and settling yourself into your sun lounger again. You and Hyunjin had an ongoing competition to see who could get the best tan over the course of your week long holiday, and you'd be damned to waste precious sunbathing time whilst he was at the shops to get breakfast for everyone.
"Gross, don't say that," Seungmin grimaces, chucking you a bottle. "You're burning up, idiot."
You scoff, pulling your sunglasses off for the second time of the morning and dumping them beside you. "Am I really?"
"Yes," Seungmin responds, placing his hands on the railing that oversees the beach you were staying at, looking out to catch a glimpse of Jeongin before giving up and practically falling on top of the lounger beside you. "Unless the aim of the competition you've got with Hyunjin is to see who can look the most like a lobster by the end of the week, I'd lather up."
You sigh, picking up the bottle he'd handed you and rubbing the sunscreen into your arms and chest. "Why are you so mad at Jeongin, anyway?" You ask him, intrigued as to what had interrupted your morning detox. "And why did you think he'd be here?"
"He's a dumbass," Seungmin says, kicking his feet up on the sun lounger as if that explains anything. "And I thought he might be here since you're the only other person still at the resort."
"Everyone's gone?" You ask, closing the lid to the bottle and chucking it into the shade.
"Felix, Chan and Changbin went down to the sea front whilst Minho, Hyunjin and Jisung were at the shops. Jeongin must have gone with them," Seungmin explains, shaking his head. "I'm seriously going to kill him when I find him again."
"I swear if you don't explain what he's done, I'm taking your name off of the lease," you say, throwing him a side glance as you settle back into a comfortable position.
"You can't do that," he mocks, as if you would ever actually take his name off of the lease to your new apartment. You'd just signed it two weeks ago, with Hyunjin and Felix too. It had been stressful trying to find accommodation for your final year of uni, as you weren't entitled to on campus accommodation in fourth year. When Seungmin brought the idea of sharing an apartment close to campus with Hyunjin and Felix to you, it had been an obvious yes.
Sure, living with three boys was probably going to be a nightmare, but you'd just lived with Seungmin for a year and he'd practically kept you afloat, so no matter how messy Felix was or how late Hyunjin stayed up, you figured you could handle it.
"He left my flip flops outside in the scorching sun yesterday," he finally says, offering you an explanation. "I specifically told him not to, because I'd seen online that the brand can partially melt in extreme heat - and who would have guessed? I now have a pile of goo on the ground."
You can't stifle your laugh, giggling openly. It was just such a classic Jeongin move you'd come to realise. He was nothing short of a little shit when he wanted to be. "They can't be a very good brand if they melt in the sun."
Seungmin scoffs. "They weren't made for over 40°c heat. Plus, I may or may not have bought them from a dodgy website," he complains, though you know he's over exaggerating. You could put money on the fact his flip flops were only slightly damaged. "He knows exactly what he's done as well. He'd written an, 'I'm sorry, Seungmin' note right on top of the goo pile for me to wake up to this morning."
You laugh openly this time, shaking your head at your friends actions. "Unsurprising."
Seungmin hums. "Yeah, I'll get my revenge at some point," he assures you, turning to give you an evil grin. "He's gonna hate choosing me as a roommate for this trip, I swear."
The resort you were staying in abroad, found by Chan (of course, as the self proclaimed 'dad' of your friend group), had large apartment like rooms that joined together and allowed you a private stretch of gorgeous white sand beach. Each room had a balcony area overlooking the beach, which you were currently taking full advantage of.
"I thought you chose Jeongin as a roommate?" You ask, turning on your side to properly face your friend.
"Jeongin is the least gross out of everyone," Seungmin answers with a grimace. "Other than you, of course. But you're rooming with your lovey dovey -"
He doesn't get to finish his taunt, as the front door to your room flies open. "Honey, I'm home!" Minho shouts, walking through the slide doors onto the balcony. His flip flops patter against the decking before he flops down onto the edge of your sun lounger.
"You're not trying to steal my girlfriend, are you Seungmo?" Minho questions, tilting his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose.
"It wasn't funny the first time you said it, and it's still not funny now," Seungmin responds, making Minho chuckle. Since Minho had popped the big question a couple months ago, he hadn't shut up about you being his girlfriend. His friends, that had now easily become your best friends, were constantly telling him to shut up, especially Seungmin since he spent the most time with you.
"Boo hoo," Minho says lazily, moving himself on your lounger so he was nestled comfortably in between your legs.
"What did you get from the store?" You ask him as he lays his head on your chest.
"Some meat and stuff so we can have a barbecue tonight," he responds. "Snacks, alcohol - some tampons for you."
"TMI," Seungmin winces, though you knew he was only doing it for show in front of Minho. You'd spent a year living with him and he couldn't care less about your period.
"A woman's menstrual cycle is natural," Minho mocks, laughing when Seungmin puts his fingers in his ears.
"Shut up, Jesus," you groan. It was bad enough you'd had to go on holiday while you were at the end of your period, especially in a group of guys, but your boyfriend felt the need to show how 'cool' he was about it in front of your friends, which made him decidedly uncool.
"Anyway," Seungmin says, attempting to stray the conversation away from your menstrual cycle. "What's Hyunjin and Ji up to now?"
"Said they were dumping their shit in their room and meeting the other guys at the beach for the day," Minho explains, stretching his limbs as he looks up at you. "Thought we could join them?"
You him, nodding. "Yeah, sounds good. Seungmin?"
"I'll need to borrow a pair of your flip flops, Minho," he says, and you take that statement as a form of agreement. "Jeongin has decimated mine."
Minho chuckles, pulling himself up from off your chest to sit at the edge of your lounger again. "Fine by me. There's a spare pair sitting on top of my suitcase."
Seungmin grins, getting up to put on Minho's flip flops. "I'm gonna go get changed into swim shorts, I'll get you guys down there?"
"Aye aye, captain," Minho responds, shouting through as Seungmin walks out your room, leaving you and Minho alone on the balcony.
He bends down towards you, leaving a chaste kiss on your lips. "Hi."
You giggle at him, using your hand to shield your eyes from the sun as you look at him, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Hi. Thanks for the tampons, by the way. I forgot to ask for them."
"Yeah, I figured you'd forgotten," he replies lazily, tapping your knees with his fingers. "Not a problem for the best boyfriend ever."
You chuckle at him, shaking your head. Minho had voiced his concerns about not being able to be enough for you, as he'd never been in a proper relationship before, but you'd assured him you'd be able to work at it together. And here you were, happier than you'd been in a long time.
"You look pretty," Minho states outwardly, and you smile knowing he means it. You'd come to realise he didn't give out compliments easily, so when he did it made your heart melt. "Last I saw you, you were a zombie in bed."
"Yeah, well, we were up late last night," you say, which makes Minho snicker. You whack him on the arm. "Don't be crude."
"Says you!" He laughs, grabbing your hand to stop you from whacking him again. You take a second to eye him up - shirtless, in just a pair of swim shorts and flip flops, you thought about how lucky you were that your boyfriend was perhaps the hottest man on the planet.
"Stop eye fucking me," he says slyly, narrowing his eyes at you.
"I'm not eye fucking you," you counter, crossing your arms. That turns out to be a mistake, when Minho's eyes go straight to your boobs.
"You know," he starts lowly, moving closer to you to push a strand of hair behind your ear. "We haven't countered period sex yet, but if you -"
You don't even need to whack him for that one, because he gets hit in the face with a blow up beach ball. Cackling, you catch a glimpse of the perpetrator.
"Get a room!" Hyunjin shouts, laughing maniacally as his bleach blonde hair flies out around him, and you just know Minho's going to kill him for that.
"We have a room!" Minho shouts back, throwing the beach ball back to Hyunjin which he catches, walking up to your balcony from the beach, shirtless and dripping wet. You assume he's already been in the sea.
"Maybe use it?" He says cheekily, and you roll your eyes. "We're gonna play volleyball, get your asses out here."
"I refuse," you say, throwing your hands up with wide eyes. "Not after last time."
Hyunjin giggles, remembering your game on the first day you'd arrived, and how your bikini top had come undone whilst you tried to save the ball. That was not one of your finest moments.
"You can be umpire," he says, tilting his head. You look towards Minho who shrugs, so you turn back to Hyunjin and nod.
"Fine," you say in defeat, standing up off your sun lounger and grabbing your phone and the keys to your room, so you can lock the front and sliding doors and jump the barrier of your balcony onto the beach.
The boys are all round the corner from your balcony, their towels laid out on the sand with some beach umbrellas propped up. Jeongin and Felix are chasing each other up and down the coastline with water guns, whilst Jisung and Seungmin are sprawled lazily out on their towels, taking refuge under the umbrellas from the blazing sunshine. Chan and Changbin are setting up the volleyball net.
As you, Hyunjin and Minho walk towards them, Felix and Jeongin abandon their fight, dropping the water guns by the boys feet.
"Didn't think you'd want to play after last time," Felix says breathlessly, giving you a cheeky grin when you hit him with your beach towel.
"We collectively agreed to never speak about it again," you seethed, listening to the other boys snickers. You choose to ignore Minho's smirk. "Besides, I'm reffing, and your teams already in the minus points."
"Why?" Felix groans, pouting at you.
"Attitude and bad behaviour. Ref rules," you throw back, placing your beach towel down and making yourself comfortable. Minho bends down to give you a peck, ignoring the guys cries of PDA and Jeongin covering his eyes before he calls team captain and the boys split up into two groups. Minho calls the second team captain and gets first pick, choosing Chan instantly.
They were unsurprisingly competitive, as you'd come to find out. If their beer pong tournaments were anything to go by, their volleyball games were even worse. You'd had to settle a multitude of arguments by half time alone - Jisung claiming Changbin was using foul play and Seungmin purposefully making the other team laugh to lose their attention.
Minho's team won in the end, which you could have seen coming from a mile away, since Chan practically carried any team he was on in terms of sports games. By sunset, half the guys had left to shower and the other half were setting up the barbecue, leaving you and Minho alone by the beachfront.
You watch the tide slowly make its way in and out again, the sound calming as Minho lay reading beside you. He's motionless, save from the periodic turn of the page of his book and his thumb swiping over your thigh when he found a comfortable position to hold his book with one hand.
The sun was slowly starting to set, the orange and pink hues of the sky mixing together like paint on a palette. When Minho turns the page to his book again, you pull your sunglasses off of the bridge of your nose to study him.
"What you reading?" You ask him, and he seems to finish the last sentence before looking over to you.
"A book," he says slyly, keeping his thumb in the middle of it but closing it over to look at you. He probs himself up on one arm.
"Oh yeah? Though it was an oven mitt," you reply sarcastically, rolling your eyes.
Minho raises an eyebrow at you. "Oven mitt?"
"First thing I thought of," you shrug, lowering yourself so that your lying flat on your back, closer to him. He looks down at you with a half smile. "But really, what book is it?"
Your boyfriend rolls his eyes as one hand pushes his dusty brown hair out his face, turning the cover of his book around to show you.
"How to deal with rude people with a smile," you read the title aloud as your eyes scan the front cover. "Is this a step by step guide?"
Minho chuckles, shaking his head as he pretends to snatch the book away from you. "No - if you must know, it's one of my favourites, and I'm rereading it and annotating it so I can give it to you."
You blink a couple times at his words, not really comprehending what he was saying. "You're going to gift it to me after you've annotated it?"
"Yeah," he replies, and you watch his ears tinge red - his tell. "After everything that happened with your ex and Sooyun, I just...I dunno. I read this when I needed to, and I thought you could benefit from it as well."
Minho will never let you live it down if you cry in front of him about this, claiming his superiority from his heartfelt gift, so you force a brave face. A smile comes naturally to you at the kind gesture.
"I love you so much, did you know," you say easily, shaking your head almost in disbelief. Minho had opened up to you more than you'd ever thought he would after making your relationship official. He told you about his family; his parents who he loved but did not spend a lot of time with due to them frowning upon his decision to drop his medical degree to pursue dance, how his cats meant everything to him and more...
This just felt as though he was sharing another little part of himself with you.
"What about you, then?" He says, unable to take the compliment without getting somewhat flustered as per usual. "You were reading something earlier in the week."
You hum, turning and digging the book out of your beach bag. You gently throw it onto his lap, watching as he inspects it like you had done his before handing it back to you.
"A poem book?" He says curiously. "'A mouthful of forevers'. Any good?"
"I love it. I've never been a big poem fan but this book...I dunno, her poems really speak to me."
"Okay you freak, read me one," he says blatantly, lying down flat on his back like you and crossing his arms, staring into the sky. He turns to you when you don't reply to him. "Please?"
You choose to ignore his shit eating grin when you open to one of the pages in the book you had dog eared.
"Love Poems, by Clementine Von Radics," you start with a huff, already feeling your tummy flutter under your boyfriends smirk and watchful eye. "I want to kiss you. Like big, fat kisses. Or angels. Or stars. Or something. I don't know. Love poems never make sense to me."
You pause for a second to catch your breath and sneak a peak at Minho as you do, and he's carefully watching you - a serious expression on his features as he nods at you for you to continue.
"Poets say things like Your teeth are flowers or Your eyes are miracles. But you aren't miracles. Or flowers. You are some sweet boy with a good smile and a shaky heart. Come kiss me. I'm in love with the miracle of your body—beside my body."
Minho stays quiet for a second, contemplating your words, and you can't help but feel sheepish.
"I like it because it reminds me of you," you say, although Minho's one of the smartest people you've ever met and you'd be damned if he hadn't already guessed that. "It's like - humans are never supposed to be these amazing, wondrous, beings. But you're you, and even though you will never be this unrealistic perfected poet concoction of a man, you have already shown me what perfect feels like. Because, I guess to me, perfect is good and bad things coexisting in this one little life with you."
There's not another second to babble on, because Minho's easily caught your lips with his own after moving swiftly so that he hovers over the top of you. He keeps himself propped up on an arm beside your head as he depends the kiss slightly before pulling away.
His hair tickles your forehead as he breathes, shaking his head at you. "You know I love you too, right?" He says lowly, dark eyes shifting between your own. "I don't say it that often, but I am so absolutely in love with you and sometimes I just have to sit with my thoughts because I have never known what I have done to deserve you."
His deep words make your heart fill and your grin crack. You figure you must be looking at him maniacally, but you don't care - not when you lowers his head to kiss you again, the feeling one that you will never take for granted. After these months you still feel the same butterflies you felt after that very first time.
"You're sooo in love with me," you can't help but to tease when he pulls away again, watching when he shakes his head with a chuckle. "You're practically on your knees for me."
"I could be later, if you quit acting like a brat in the middle of our nice moments," he says, tilting his head and placing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. "Now, come on, cause -"
The distraction of Hyunjin and Jeongin making sex noises and kissy faces is one that you surprisingly enjoy, since it firstly means that Minho doesn't notice the way your cheeks are the same colour as your sunburn and secondly, that dinner must be ready. You successfully rope Jeongin into helping you pack up the beach stuff when Minho ends up in the midst of a physical fight with Hyunjin, the two men hollering and rolling around on the sand like children.
Whatever the issue was, you could assume Hyunjin deserved it. The two of them had been ridiculously close recently, after having talked out all their issues back when they weren't on the best of terms. You didn't know if it was just because you and Hyunjin were so close or because they'd finally had a deep discussion together, but they'd been practically inseparable the whole holiday.
Not that you are complaining - you'd take them clinging to each other over the two of them avoiding each other like the plague any day of the week.
"You and Minho hyung are cute," Jeongin goads as he folds Minho's towel, showing you his dimples and widening his eyes. "Kind of gross, but mostly cute."
You take the towel from him and shove it into your back, grabbing your water bottle and waiting for Jeongin to pick up Minho's water bottle before the two of you head towards your bedroom's balcony. "You think?"
He hums, nodding. "Everyone's been saying it all holiday. Especially Hyunjin, which is so weird. To think a couple months ago he was like your relationship's number one enemy is laughable."
You can't help but roll your eyes with a smile at the memory. "He was such a pain in the ass back then, huh?"
"Right?" Jeongin agrees, giving you a hand to help you climb over your balcony decking's railings when you reach it. "I don't know who was a bigger clock block, him or Felix."
He laughs with you when you can't help but to crack up, remembering that one time Minho was helping you dance in the practice rooms and Felix came in at the worst possible time, or when you and Minho were finally opening up to each other and Hyunjin just had to spread a rumour that wasn't true.
"Is it weird that I wouldn't change any of it?" You ask the younger boy, thanking him when he hands you the water bottle.
"Nah," he agrees, his freshly dyed bleach blonde hair (that he'd tried and failed to convince everyone he wasn't copying Hyunjin) forming waves from the sea water he hadn't washed out yet. "It's one hell of a story."
The distant calls for you both to hurry up remind you that you've got food waiting, so you lock your bedroom door and head out back again. By the time you round the corner, you spot the boys in a large circle - your boyfriend in charge of grilling the meat, whilst Felix is preparing what looks like bibimbap. Changbin's also putting together burger buns and salad as Jisung hands out the drinks Seungmin's pouring. Chan seems to be in charge of the whole orchestration, making sure everyone gets a bit of all the foods on their plate.
"You are a grand help," you say snidely to Hyunjin, the only one of them not helping, as he sprawls lazily on a deck chair by the unlit fire pit.
"I was sworn off preparations," he responds, not bothering to look at you. "I'm the visual."
Jeongin shares a look with you as you scoff, getting stuck in to helping when Chan starts handing you plates of food to place on people's seats. "You need a reality check."
"Chan?" He calls lazily.
"He's the visual," Chan shrugs as he hands you another plate, the other guys snickering. "Plus, Minho beat him up earlier."
"What was that even about?" You ask, wanting to be kept in the loop. Your boyfriend catches your eye, rolling his own in response. It's almost a shame to see he's put a t-shirt on, but the way he's rolled the sleeves up over his biceps and his cheeks flushed pink from the heat of the barbecue make you think otherwise.
Since Minho isn't giving you an answer, you turn to Hyunjin, who only gives you a smirk. He pulls his arms up by his head, resting against them. "I only told him that public sex on the beach is actually a crime, and nobody wants to see his massive -"
He doesn't get another word out, after getting hit in the face from a flying beef burger. Jeongin cracks up beside you, and you can't stifle your laugh either, especially when Chan starts shouting.
"We only have so much of them to go around!" He frets, counting out the food items with his fingers. "Stop acting like a child, Minho. Your girlfriends right there."
Minho waves at you with a grin, and you shake your head at him. Seungmin and Jisung finish pouring the drinks, making the rounds and placing them in the cup holders of each chair.
"She's just as bad as him," Seungmin scoffs, picking up a plate full of food and taking a seat beside you. "You know she made me pick out paint samples with her last week? Guess what colour she's painting her bedroom."
Your boyfriend raises you an eyebrow as he finishes passing out the rest of the meat and turns off the barbecue. It must have slipped your mind to inform him of your plans for your bedroom in the new apartment; you were still renting, but the landlord was extremely lenient and allowed you to paint wherever you wanted as long as the apartment looked how did did before you arrived when you eventually leave.
"She wants the ceiling to be pink," Seungmin groans, sending a wave of laughter through your friends. Sometimes being the only girl who regularly hung out with them sucked, and you made a mental note to at least attempt to find another female friend - preferably one who wouldn't steal your boyfriend.
"The ceiling? How are you even gonna reach that, shorty," Changbin laughs, ruffling your hair with his free hand before plonking himself in a seat next to Hyunjin, the rest of the chairs filling up pretty quickly. Minho takes the spare seat beside you, of course.
"I have a vision," you mumble inwardly, ignoring Minho's pout about how cute you were.
You had to admit, Minho's food was delicious - as was Felix's bibimbap, which wasn't to be unexpected. One of your favourite thing's about Minho was his dedication to making food for everyone, one of his love languages- though he'd never admit it out loud.
All of you eat well, chatting together about anything and everything. Hyunjin giving Felix extras from his plate when Felix had finished, the younger boy grinning at him in delight. Changbin and Chan engaging in an arm wrestle, in with Changbin dominates, of course. Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin having a beer downing competition, spluttering with laughter when Jisung almost chokes on the drink. Minho, a hand on your thigh, watching his friends eat the food he'd made for them in contempt - all of it fills your heart.
To think how miserable you had been, in a relationship you had tried so hard to keep afloat, and a friendship that ended in distrust - how different your life was now was insane.
Hyunjin distracts you from your thoughts, calling your name as he stands up. "Yo, come help me get the ice creams from my room."
You roll your eyes at his request, but inevitably agree, standing up and narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend who slaps your ass as you do so.
"Come on lazy lumps," Hyunjin taunts, calling you as you run to catch up with him walking towards his room. "These ice creams won't get themselves."
"Alright, alright," you sigh, following him into his room and taking a bundle of ice creams he pulls out the freezer. "You're so clingy recently."
He scoffs, making a disgusted face at you. "I'm not clingy," he claims, whilst you tilt your head at him. He closes the freezer with the ice cream packets in his arms, sighing. "Okay, maybe I'm a bit clingy, but you can't blame me. There was a point I thought you and Minho would never talk to me again."
"You're so dramatic," you chuckle, as the two of you walk out the room and back towards your friends. "We've been over this a million times - I don't blame you for anything, and you'd never get rid of me or Minho that easily."
"I know, I know," he says, and you notice his faint smile. The sand gets in between your toes as you walk, so you take your flip flops off to walk barefoot. "I'm just happy about how everything's turned out. Don't tell Minho I said this, but the two of you have never been happier now that you're with each other, and I was a little bitch to think otherwise."
You laugh openly at his compliment, shoving his shoulder fondly as you reach your friends, handing out the ice cream packets.
"You're not trying to get with my girl, are you Hyun?" Minho comments cheekily, which everyone collectively groans at.
"Nobody is trying to steal your girlfriend, dickwad. That joke has been used and abused," Changbin whines, which your boyfriend grins at, as if this was the desired affect of his idiotic comment. Hyunjin only sticks his tongue out at him.
"Says the one that was all over her that first night at the bar," Minho jabs back, which Changbin just smirks at.
"We get it! I'm hot!" You say confidently, scrunching up your nose when Seungmin chucks a rolled up napkin at your face. "And anyway, Changbin's taken now."
Changbin widens his eyes at you as the other boys turn to him in shock because, oh shit, that was a secret you were not supposed to share. There's a chorus of irritated yelling forced towards Changbin, and he looks at you in despair.
"You have a girlfriend?" Felix shouts, standing up and pointing at Changbin. You shoot him a sorry glance as he waves his hands.
"Yes! Okay, it's a very recent thing," he groans. "And you! You were not supposed to tell them!"
You shrug your shoulders apologetically, secretly enjoying the chaos. Minho turns to you, an intrigued smirk on his face.
"And how did you know before any of us?" He asks, no distaste in his tone, just genuine intrigue. One of your favourite things about Minho was how he could not care less about your friendships with the guys, something your ex was almost always complaining about. Minho relished in the fact you got along so well with all his friends.
"I went by Changbin's place to get him to help me fix my broken bedside table for the new place, and she called him while I was over, so it was really only a coincidence," you explain with your hands up.
"Why did you need Changbin's help?" Hyunjin questions. "Am I not good enough?"
"You don't even own a toolbox, Hyun," you say, deadpan, turning to Minho. "And you were away working, so don't start."
"I know, I don't care," he says with a grin, and you laugh at how Hyunjin is more annoyed than Minho. Minho and you had trust and he didn't mind you spending time with others, but Hyunjin was a dramatic baby whenever he wasn't involved. Realistically he just had a bad case of FOMO.
"Anyway," Chan claps, steering the conversation in a different direction. "We're all happy for you Binnie, right guys?"
There's a collective mumble of agreement which you laugh at, watching Changbin get up off of his chair. "On that note, I'm gonna call said girlfriend before the time difference gets too ridiculous. Peace out sluts."
You shake your head at him with a smile, watching as he bounds along the sand towards his room.
"That's it," Jeongin whines. "We've lost another one."
"You're just jealous since you're single," Jisung prods the younger boy, which he shrugs at.
"Yeah," he sighs. "So real."
You drown out the guys conversation, discussing relationships and what not, as you pull out your phone, scrolling your instagram feed. A photo Seungmin posted of you, Felix and Hyunjin pops up - the two boys cracking dumb poses as you laugh at them. You like the photo with a smile, continuing your scroll. The next photo that arises is of Sooyun - a ring adorned on her finger.
Her and Doha had broken up not long after she'd come to your dorm. You'd spoken to her a couple times since then when you'd bumped into each other on campus, though your friendship had never resumed. It was for the best, to stay civil yet cut ties, because she'd hurt you badly and you'd never have trust for her again.
Yet, you were happy for her. She'd gotten into a relationship with one of her family friends from your hometown a couple months after her and Doha had broken up. They'd grown up together, and you'd always suspected they'd end up with each other. You weren't surprised when you heard they were together, and after a year they'd gotten engaged. She beamed in the photo, her fiancé looking at her adoringly as she held up her hand for the camera.
You like the photo, commenting 'congrats!' before showing the photo to Minho. He smiles, knowing you were over the drama and genuinely happy for your friend.
"Maybe it's a thing," he says, tapping your knee with his fingers absentmindedly. "After someone ends their relationship with Doha, they find the love of their life."
You shake your head at him with a smile, knowing he was probably right. The last you'd heard of Doha, he'd dropped out of university and was reputably known as a cheater in your area. Luckily, you hadn't seen him since you'd broken up with him, confirming the theory that when someone isn't meant to be in your life, you'll never see them again.
"I'm fucking exhausted," Jisung yawns, stretching out his limbs. "Should we call it a night, since we're up early to swim with dolphins tomorrow?"
Hyunjin nods, standing up. "Yeah, agreed. Felix, don't you dare let me sleep in. I can't wait to swim with dolphins!"
Felix rolls his eyes, joining Hyunjin as the two of them wave before heading off to their room. Chan starts getting all of your things together as the rest of you help, folding up the chairs and taking all your rubbish from the beach. You all say goodnight to each other as you part ways, you and Minho heading back to your room.
"I love it here," you say as soon as you close the sliding doors, locking them for the night and staring out at the view. "I never want to leave. It's like paradise."
"You know," Minho says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms round your torso. "I was thinking, after you finish your degree next year, would you want to go travelling with me for a bit? By then I'll have a fair amount of money saved, so we could go wherever you want before you settle down to work."
"Really?" You ask, turning in his embrace to blink up at him. "You want to?"
"Of course. I've thought about it for a while. It would be fun, just the two of us, exploring."
You grin, kissing him on the lips. "I'd do anything and go anywhere as long as I'm with you, you know that, right?"
He chuckles, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. "And I you. Who would have thought friends with benefits could end up like this?"
You playfully hit his shoulder before pulling him into a hug, letting him wrap his arms around you.
"Who would have thought," you agree, sighing into his embrace and thanking the universe for letting your friends with benefits situation turn into the most beautiful love.
And friends with benefits, after a year, is fully complete. I hope you all enjoyed the epilogue, even though you had to wait forever for it. This story will always have a special place in my heart - it’s the reason so many of you read my fics and found my account. Thankyou always for the interactions on this series, love always 🫶🏻🫶🏻
taglist
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milkbreadandtadpoles · 4 months
Text
soup and stars
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚
snip: you keep sukuna's favorite after workout drink in your fridge. and no, you don't frequent that store. sukuna looks at you like you hung the moon and painted the sky yourself when you're either on the brink of death or not paying attention (it's only with his eyes, though. he's a certified rbf). the two of you have been hooking up for over a year with little conversation outside of snarky comments and emojis he doesn't get.
and he sometimes takes care of you when you're sick for five hours only.
warnings: suggestive language, sukuna being a parallel of this guy i used to hookup with who was srsly emotionally constipated and really milked my daddy issues, reader being dumb (lol me), probably a lot of run on sentences and weird descriptions but i am not srry ab it, no Y/N here, a lot of parentheses for some reason
authors note: omg hey. i have this a03 and i thought i'd put a tumblr to pair it together cuz i had an old tumblr but i was kinda done w her (may she rest in peace!) anywayyy my name is lillie, hi again. hope u enjoy this!! luv me some sukuna who reminds me of all my bad flings.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆。°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒。⋆୨୧˚
Since when did you get sick like this?
This time, not that time you lied to your boss, you have an actual stomach bug. Stomach thing. Food poisoning from bad sushi. You don't know.
What you do know, however, is that everything smells bad, you can’t stomach anything other than a handful of saltine crackers. You couldn’t even finish your coffee yesterday morning; you’re just coming down from a fever. Everything is hot and cold, nothing feels right on your skin. Noises are too loud, but the silence is making your ears bleed. 
Curled up into the sheets, you shiver. It rocks over you, feeling cold despite your body burning off whatever infection is brewing in your gut. Your skin feels crusty yet damp, scalp itchy and pulled back into two haphazard buns. Stray strands lay over your forehead that twinkles with cold sweat.
Vampire Diaries plays in the background, volume loud enough so you can hear where you’re at within the series but quiet enough to give you grace if you wish to take another four hour nap. You don’t even want to get on your phone, ignoring the occasional, silent buzzes and flashing light that draw your eyes away from the fuzz of your blanket.
Time passes in a druken haze, not knowing whether you slept or not, not feeling entirely there at all. You fail to count the amount of times you got up to throw up or sit on the toilet, thankful the walls are snug enough to rest your head on the wall of it to contemplate if it’s worth passing out before you gather your wits and crawl back into bed.
There’s a rustle in your sheets, a distant sound of intro music for the vampire show.
“You still watchin’ this shit?” A gruff voice sounds from above you.
Your brows furrow in your sleepy haze- you don’t have energy to fight an intruder, pulling the sheets over your head that throbs from lack of everything. Horribly big hands paw at the clothed dip in your waist. And you let out a mixture of a whine and huff at the realization that your little fling (if you could even call it that) picked a horrible day to play.
“Sukuna,” You murmur, drawing the blankets higher above the crown of your head before he has a chance to yank it down and see your very unprepared self, “Not a good time.”
Sukuna, an occasional fuck and lackluster addition to your friend group, scoffs a laugh, muttering something about you really being a freak, something about thanking your dad for giving you all these issues that only he can handle as he gropes the flesh of your ass.
And it would feel so lovely if you weren’t on the brink of death.
“Eggroll. All the eggrolls.”
He groans, lifting his hand away from you in agreement to the safe word (because that one time when the two of you didn't have one and you reacted that way actually scared the shit out of him). 
“I’m sick.” You add quietly, urging your body to morph into a tighter ball. If Sukuna were his younger brother, or his younger brother’s friend, you’d ask either of them to cover you with another blanket. Or to refill your water bottle. Maybe even run to the store down the road and grab you some soup. But this is Sukuna, and-
There’s a harsh tug at the blanket covering your head, and you try to weakly grip the fabric in place.
“That’s why you didn’t answer my text? ‘Cause you’re all disgusting and shit?” He questions, giving one more quick tug to reveal your messy hair, the tint to the apples of your cheeks. The way his gaze feels makes the very top of your gut churn, and you scrunch your face as you decide whether or not you need to puke again.
“Mhm.” You nod, begging for the fabric back with a soft tug. Sukuna relents, snorting as you cover your head back up.
His body weight makes your bed frame squeak as he repositions himself to slouch next to you, and you peer at him through the crack of the blanket. He pulls out his phone, typing on it lazily. Through your bubbling stomach, confusion festers simply because he isn’t moving.
“Thought you not replying was you trying to be cute ’n shit.” A hand makes its way onto your lower back, the weight of it making your eyes bulge in silent surprise. With all your strength, you shake your head and whisper a soft sorry. He tuts, like all weirdly immature but mature, rude but nice and confusing older brother types do, dismissing your apology with a little pat on your back.
Another pat, and you’re snuggling into the blankets and letting your eyes close, mapping the way his hand feels and ignoring the way your stomach cramps. You hear the distant sound of a picture being taken, only being able to mutter a humiliated groan. There's a vibration where your phone is, and you know that the group chat has been notified of your predicament. 
“You eat? Take a shower?” Sukuna asks, mastering the art of making his concern dismissive. The silence on your end answers everything he needs to know, humming in acknowledgement. You’re a stubborn little shit who likes to suffer in isolation, he’ll give you that.
He synchs a basketball game to your TV, adamantly rotating between patting and rubbing your back until you’re snoring and curled up next to his lap.
When you wake up, you’re still cold, still sweating off your fever. You peers towards the bed, noticing the empty spot but the basketball game still softly playing on the screen. For a moment, you let your head slump back into the mattress before you force yourself out of bed to pee.
The weight in your body is too overwhelming to be horrified by your appearance when you emerge to make your way into a shared bathroom with your roommate. They’re all gone for work, and you don’t have the wit to ask where Sukuna got the time off to come fuck you in the middle of the day. Or why he was looking at your location. 
“I forgot how much of a bitchy face you have.” He comments, voice a note softer than you would usually hear, as you pad towards the bathroom. You grumble a quiet fuck you, slinking towards the bathroom.
You fix your hair to the best of your ability- standing up too long made you throw up. Your abdomen feels like it’s gone to three HIT classes in a row, hardly having any reserves to help you stand and brush your teeth. So you do it knelt over the bathtub, making sure to lock the door to make sure that stupid person of interest doesn’t see you so weak.
Rinsing your mouth out knelt over a tub is a new low, spitting the globs of toothpaste and water into the drain before you turn it off and brace the sides of the tub to stand and wander back out into the kitchen. Your bones feel like brittle, a bowling ball in your stomach forcing your posture to look horrifyingly old. It's been two days but you've aged thirty years. 
“Hi.” You greet weakly, rubbing your eyes before putting your arms back down as swiftly as you can. When was the last time you shaved?
Sukuna nods back, digging through a plastic bag. It’s only a few seconds before you’re sitting on the floor. The tile makes you twitch, and you wonder how you’re going to get up without looking like a hobbling mess. Maybe you’ll just crawl.
Soup and some electrolyte drinks are set out on the counter- along with your favorite candy. For a moment, your brows furrow, and then your lip wobbles in realization.
“Did you get that for me?”
“Can’t fuck you if you’re all pitiful and disgusting.” Is all he says, but his lip twitches into a bewitching smirk as your eyes well with tears and you sniffle out a sweet thank you. "Of course you’d cry over stupid shit like this." He adds, shaking his head. 
His shoes click bluntly against the floor, and he peers down at you with that devastatingly handsome, horribly mean face.
“You could just go fuck another girl.” You murmur sappily, lip jutting into a pout. And it’s true, you know it. The two of you have established that. He throws it in your face, too, when you tell him you’re busy or you’re too sleepy. Or when you simply don’t want to deal with his attitude.
His laugh tickles your heart, staring at him with wide, watery eyes as he bends down and gathers you into his arms. You squirm, or try to, holding any pride and ego close to your chest like a rabid animal as you let out a faux uncomfortable noise. There’s a familiar tap to your ass that urges you to stop, and you sink into Sukuna’s terrifyingly comfortable embrace as he carries you back to your room. The two of you have hardly cuddled before, the absolute most being him begrudgingly letting you cling onto him after one particularly rough night- only to shove you off five minutes later, giving you a pat on the head as if to say good job, thanks for the head, before leaving.
So this is new, awkward, when your semi friend with semi benefits sets you down with the upmost genteel fashion and retreats back into the kitchen. He comes back with an armful of products moments later. Soup, your favorite cup filled with mystery get well liquid, a straw and a big spoon.
“I don’t like big spoons.”
“That’s too fuckin’ bad because that’s what I got- stop pouting like that, it's disgusting.”
Sukuna sets everything down and defiantly does not grab another spoon for you. You make a noise in the back of your throat when he reaches over and urges you to sit up with a silent look that you’re expected to figure out. He lets you maneuver a pillow behind your back, lets you curl a blanket around your body and change the TV back to Vampire Diaries- he does not let you feed yourself.
When you reach for the bowl of soup (your favorite- chicken and stars), he uses only a percentage of his strength to swat your hand away, giving you another demand to stop sulking like a little kid before he’s crawling (crawling!) across the bed. Bowl of soup and too big of spoon in hand, he sits across from and in front of your view from the show.
He leans forward in a sort of endearing way, brows furrowed in a certain concentration as he scoops the perfect spoonful of soup and stars, holding it to your mouth. And he watches when you open your mouth with furrowed brows, lips closing around the dipped metal so that nothing drips down your chin. The broth warms your mouth, your stomach in an instant, making your face relax and your back slump into the pillow that supports you.
There’s a prickle of humiliation on the apples of your cheeks, something Sukuna would likely make fun of if you weren’t half asleep by the time he finishes spoon feeding you. And yea, there was one singular instance of him swiping away fallen liquid away with his thumb. And yea, you’re going to remember that forever. And most definitely are you going to internalize this as something more between the two of you than just friends who fuck (friend being a huge overstatement).
“I don’t like you.” You find yourself murmuring as Sukuna thrusts your clunky, metal, pink water bottle in your face. Obediently, as you always are, you sip at the liquid, swallowing down any grimace as he stares right at you while you swallow.
“You’re not my favorite, either.” He grunts, picking the cup up as soon as you set it down and representing it to you with a face.
“I’m at least second to your video game console.” Your grumble with pursed lips, taking another measly sip. When Sukuna raises his brows, you take a few more.
“Third. Second is pot. And it’s a PS4- fucking nerd.”
The part of your stomach that isn’t cramping to shit flutters, your fever probably rises, and you smile to yourself as you take a big gulp of the electrolyte solution. You swallow before he says the softest atta girl and takes the cup to set it back down.
Sukuna helps you shuffle under three big blankets, gives you your phone and goes to wash the soup bowl. You text Satoru with sick enthusiasm, to which he reiterates it in your (other) group chat where everyone just starts sending silly fangirlish memes. Shoko isn’t phased, Suguru isn’t pleased, either. But there’s an icky smile on your face, the thought of when it’ll end and Sukuna will go back to, well, Sukuna, gnawing at the back of your throat.
But you’ll pretend for today, like you do everyday.
“Are you leaving?” You ask when he comes back into the room, question answered when the bed dips once more.
He grunts a no, to shut up and sleep as he synchs up another sports game. You don’t mind, turning your head so you’re facing him. His back rests against a pillow with a floral case, one of your weighted stuffed animals squished between the weight of his back and the metal bed frame.
You stare with lidded eyes and hot cheeks, tracing the musculature of his shoulders and the sharpness of his face in the same pattern you do after he’s done making you quiver and shake and cry. The plush of the blanket is a perfect excuse for the sheen of sweat on your face, your stomach still molten lava and convulsing.
But it’s just a little more than a dull ache with Sukuna here, bored face and all.
For a moment, before you fall asleep for a third time today, you feel his fingertips, hard and gruff and soft, brush against your cheek, your chapped lips. You’re too tired to hide or quip at him in the static-like fashion that makes him laugh.
You swear you see his lips twitch when you hum affectionately. There’s a text waiting for your friends, a mental scoreboard to update. Smile number two. Four days apart. From holding a sparkler and ogling at it like a child at Satoru’s New Year’s Eve party to laying in bed sick, purring like a cat as he pets you.
“Stop looking like you’re going to die.” He all but requests, covering your face with a sliver of the blanket and looking back at the game. Grabbing the remote, he turns the volume up a few more notches to ignore your itty bitty, very sleepy laugh.
Seconds away from sleep, Sukuna uncovers it- you. His lingering gaze tingles your nose, all the way down to the tips of your toes. Your infatuation with him might as well be the cure to cancer from the faintest spark of energy it gave you.
He’s not there when you wake up. It could have been a fever dream for all you know if it wasn’t for the refilled hydro flask and oddly neat note scribbled for you to ‘drink the fuck up’ on one of your Sanrio sticky notes. There's a brief look of horror on your face knowing that he looked through your drawers to find one. 
You drink it all and take a gruesome looking picture, sending it to him with a silly caption- your way of saying thank you. Sukuna doesn’t respond, but the read receipts are on. And he doesn’t talk to you for awhile, as if he curates the perfect way to make you stay by letting the bubbling like for him simmer into nothing, only for it to come back in full force when asks if you’re awake three Thursdays later.He asks if he can still use the key you gave him to come by after the gym to shower because his little brother and friends are over and he doesn’t want to hear them blubber while they figure out their alcohol tolerance (or lack thereof).
A pearly, well built increment of yourself hopes it’s so he’ll check up on you, too, after he slinks into your room and fucks you just the way he likes- because he knows you like it, too.
And you say yes, like you always do. Tell him about this new body wash you got that he can use, that you just so happened to get his favorite drink from the store he get his protein powder and supplements from when you went grocery shopping.
you don’t even like that store lmfao
found a new prebiotic there! Saw it on Pintrest
sure
Sukuna is not immune to exploiting your obvious cartwheels to please him. He’ll never say thank you, and you won’t ever ask him to. You do it for all your friends, you tell him. Shoko’s toothbrush brand is in your bathroom cabinet when she sleeps over. Satoru’s moisturizer and favorite tooth-rotting snacks. Suguru’s blanket because he gets cold at movie nights. But Sukuna knows he could have whatever he asked for within the hour.
He’ll never address that he took care of you when you were sick. Both times. Or that there's a packet of your favorite gum in the console of his car. And he'd rather be dead than you, shit, anyone, find out that there's a hidden album of little you's in his phone. 
i’m just a good friend  *ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆
we’re not friends.
It doesn’t hurt your feelings. Because you know he’s emotionally constipated, that no one’s ever really cared. Except Yuji, but little brothers always care. That whatever affection and consideration thrown his way will be burnt to a crisp, that he’ll only ever look at you like you hung the stars when no one’s looking, or only think about you at night when the weed isn’t helping him sleep. 
uh huh, we sure aren’t. see you later! make sure to stretch before you lift!!
stop texting me, it's fucking up my music
₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡
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mcflymemes · 1 year
Text
MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS *  collection #7
if you want to stop by and finish this conversation, you're welcome anytime.
you really believe your little story's gonna make a difference when there's a gun to our heads?
it was dreadful of me to even suggest it.
one day you'll meet someone and it'll literally take your breath away.
i thought somebody stole it.
so it's always just about sex, then?
welcome to new york!
you really are something.
i'm ready to be done with this.
oh, i'd like that.
and i thought i performed the perfect murder.
we're not together.
we made history today.
how does a man get shot from the front and have the body land here?
we've been over this before.
the whole country is watching you. they just don't know it.
be careful with that thing.
there are only bad options. it's about finding the best one.
i'm starving.
here. buy yourself a personality.
i'm gonna leave this coat in the car.
i took this meeting out of respect, because i wanted to say no to your face.
what is it about me that you find so irresistable?
it's gonna haunt you for the rest of your days.
you won't be alone.
i've been in love. i went down the rabbit hole.
i really have to stop buying into this bullshit hollywood cliche of true love.
remind me never to play poker in this town.
no one will think less of you.
you know what i discovered?
you can walk away.
my ears pop in an elevator.
let me clear your head up for you. i had absolutely nothing to do with the crime.
in your condition, i should call the police.
i knew you could do it!
why do i get the feeling this is the first real commitment you've ever made?
you have a boat?
if we wanted applause, we would have joined the circus.
maybe i'll give it to you.
this is what i do. i get people out. and i've never left anyone behind.
you know i love you, don't you?
you got a gun on you?
i'm trying to explain something that is not explainable.
you've been checking up on me.
i really don't have any choice.
i would like you to bullshit me.
could you do me a favor?
you are trespassing. get down from the sign.
this is the best bad idea we have.
what, you guys going out now?
sometimes a man has to be big enough to see how small he is.
whatever i hear, i won't believe.
would you order me something while you're there?
why in the shit would we do that?
i saved myself.
i wouldn't qualify for that.
i don't remember having a good time.
don't fucking shoot anybody.
i'm just doing my job.
this is your last warning.
are you trying to make me mad?
why are you telling me this?
then why the hell did you agree to do it?
do you want to live here?
you've got a good ear for music.
what an unpleasant surprise.
i hope you were watching carefully.
no, we're just friends. we're messing around a little bit.
brace yourself. it's like talking to those two old fucks on the muppets.
i've been poor my whole life.
how's someone supposed to make a living here?
how the fuck have you managed to stay out of prison for a year?
how are you doing today?
i'm not here to pry into your personal life.
how keen of you to notice.
who's the target audience?
i'm tired of the way they look at me.
now if we get separated, i'll know where to meet up.
i like this side of you.
you say one more word, and i'll cut you down right here.
i'm not gonna kill you. not like this.
we did suicide missions in the army that had better odds than this.
you want me to be honest with you?
i didn't know, but i'm always glad to hear that.
you'll fit right in.
give me your pants!
i forgot to add the iced tea.
why don't they ever make a movie about what happens after they kiss?
where did you find that? i've been looking all over for it.
300 notes · View notes
wannab-urs · 7 months
Note
Congrats on 1.5k! So deserved!! 🖤
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To celebrate, I'd love a drabble. Any Pedro boy will do!
Keep rocking & being awesome, gorgeous! 🖤😘
Thank you so so so much <3 I hope you like this ahhhh
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Save a Horse... Or Whatever
Pairing: Jack "Agent Whiskey" Daniels x Reader
Summary: Whiskey got hurt on a mission and he comes into your lab to get patched up.
Warnings: Jack Daniels being allowed to speak, medical shit that is completely bullshitted, one mention of blood, some talk of like digging around in a wound, etc, Whiskey calls you Soda pop and Sugar. Technically you're Agent Soda. Brief descriptions of oral m!receiving. No use of y/n, reader isn't gendered (I don't think?) WC: 900
A/N: I kind of think I'll turn this into a full one shot at some point? This is unbeta'd sorry!
Jack Daniels Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi
You really did not expect to end up with Agent Whiskey’s cock in your mouth today. Maybe you’d thought about it before, maybe hoped the opportunity would present itself at some point, but certainly not today. 
–-
He left your field office this morning for what was supposed to be a simple mission. Go in, shoot the fuckers, take the briefcase, call in the clean up crew. Simple, easy, something he’d done a hundred times. But somehow it got fucked up six ways from Sunday and he ended up limping his sorry ass into your lab, carrying the brief case but also dragging his left leg. 
“Howdy, Soda Pop. Reckon you could fix up my leg?” He flashes you his trademark sideways smile and a wink, before his face crumples and his legs nearly give out from under him. 
“Fuck, Whiskey! What in the hell happened to you?” You run over to help him, grabbing his thick arm and heaving him onto your examination table. 
“Let’s just say I did not receive a Kentucky welcome.” 
“Clearly. Can you take your jeans off, or am I gonna have to cut you out?” Whiskey smirks at you again and you brace yourself for whatever is about to come out of his mouth. 
“Well now, Soda Pop, thought you’d at least take me out to dinner before you tried to get in my pants. Think I can manage to get naked for ya though, sugar.” 
“Jesus fucking Christ, Whiskey you’re literally bleeding out,” you chastise him as he pulls off his belt. He winces as he shucks his blood stained jeans down his thighs, panting a little with the effort.
You try desperately not to show how much it turns you on. The guy you’ve harbored a bit of a crush on for years stripping down right in front of you… Who could blame you, honestly?
“Fuck! Soda, I’m too weak to whip a gnat. You’re gonna have to pull ‘em the rest of the way.” He collapses back on the table, jeans sitting not even half way down his thighs. 
You huff an annoyed breath and roll your eyes. “Shoulda just let me cut them off, idiot.” You pull off his ridiculous designer cowboy boots and yank his jeans the rest of the way down. You head over to your storage cabinet and grab some alcohol wipes, a pair of forceps, and a Beta Gel shot. 
Stepping between his parted legs, you clean his wound with the wipes as carefully as you can. His breath hitches in what you assume is pain and he digs his nails into his palms. “Alright, Whiskey, I gotta dig the bullet fragments out now. I can give you a pain shot, but your leg will be numb for the rest of the day. Up to you.” 
He props himself up on his elbows and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Don’t need a shot, sugar. I can handle it.” 
You raise a very skeptical eyebrow, but grab the forceps anyway. As you start the process of removing metal fragments from his leg, Whiskey sucks in a breath and his head falls back between his shoulder blades. You initially think it’s from pain. “Sure you can handle it, cowboy?” 
“Oh yeah, baby doll. I can handle it.” You eye him suspiciously, before trailing your eyes back down to where you’re working on his leg. Something catches your attention though. 
“Jack Daniels,” you say sternly. “Are you fucking getting off on this?” His cock is half hard in his boxer briefs. 
“And what if I was? Pretty girl, fixin’ me up, touchin’ me all over…” He trails off. 
“That why you became an Agent, Whiskey? You got a pain kink?” You resume pulling the pieces of the bullet out of his leg, nearly done now anyway. 
“Just ignore it, sugar. It’ll go away,” his voice is raspy, rough as if he’d been yelling and so low you feel it in your gut. You pull the last bit of the bullet out, grab the beta gel shot, and stab it into his thigh. 
His cock jumps in his underwear and he falls flat back on the table, letting out a slight whimper. 
“And what if I don’t want it to go away, Whiskey?” You don’t move from between his thighs. In fact, you step in closer, trail your hands up the outsides of his thighs and press your thumbs in. 
His head perks up at that and he meets your eyes, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “Well then, Soda pop… How’d you like to ride home on a real cowboy?” 
“That’s a terrible line, Whiskey. I really hope you don’t use that often.” 
“Only once or twice, sugar.” You roll your eyes, but hook your fingers into the waistband of his briefs anyway. You pull them down and his cock springs out, hitting his belly with a thwack. “Jesus, Jack, how do you walk around with that thing?” 
“Bowlegged,” he deadpans. You snort a laugh and take him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his obscene girth. You dip your head and lick a stripe up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the tip and sliding down as far as you can in one smooth motion. 
–-
And that is how you ended up with Whiskey’s cock in your mouth today.  Next time you’re aiming to end up in his bed. 
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motherofdogs1010 · 4 months
Text
Need to Know II (Peter Parker x Reader)
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Summary: When she was ready to get back out on the dating scene after dumping a certain Winter Soldier, Y/N was a woman ready to get back out there. She just never expected to find herself in a relationship with a certain nerdy spider. Warnings: Reader is basically Penelope Garcia, toxic ex! Bucky, fratboy!Peter, older woman/younger man, age gap relationship, mentions of ageism, eventual pregnancy Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies
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Part I
Present Day
To say that Y/N ever thought she'd be in a relationship with someone younger than her, she would be lying if she said she did. She had never expected to find herself in a relationship where she was the older one, but here she was, laying on her Cal King bed as she watched Peter type away on his computer, writing a paper for one of his robotics classes.
Peter let out a frustrated groan before closing his laptop and falling down beside her, Y/N looked at him with a amused look on his face.
"This professor makes me regret going to college", Peter groaned, Y/N chuckled.
"You're just overthinking yourself", Y/N said as she scratched his head. "You'll do great, remember, it's your last year."
"Between school and being Spider-man, sometimes I feel burnt out", Peter said.
"You'll do great", Y/N repeated as Peter practically purred at the head scratches. “Once you’re done, you’ll be able to work with Tony like he promised and you won’t be so stressed out juggling everything.”
"How did you even become a technical analyst for the Avengers anyways? It's kinda random because you popped up out of nowhere."
"I hacked into the government's system and got on their watchlist, which led me to eventually hacking into FRIDAY for fun one day."
Peter looked at her and she shrugged but it was the truth; hacking and such had always been her thing and eventually led to her being sought out by Tony himself after she may have hacked into his system for shits and giggles.
"Well, that explains everything", Peter said, "can you hack into my professor's computer?"
"I could, but it'd ruin the pardon Tony got me", Y/N pouted, "but for you, I'd risk it."
She leaned over to Peter and planted a kiss on his lips, and Peter chuckled at her comment.
"Alright, maybe let's not send you to federal prison", Peter joked, "but you wanna go down to Delmar's and get sandwiches?"
Y/N nodded, "I just have to shower first."
As she begun to get up from the bed, she looked at Peter and said, "Wanna come shower with me?"
"Babe, if I ever say no, take me to Bruce because there's something clearly wrong with me."
With a giggle, Peter chased her to the bathroom.
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After a steamy shower session that lasted longer than it probably should have, Peter was taking a quick call from his best friend, Ned, who had been accepted and was attending MIT before they left to Delmar's. Y/N decided to wait in the kitchen, walking in to see Wanda and Vision making brownies.
"Hey guys", Y/N said as she sat down at one of the kitchen island chairs.
"Oh hey Y/N", Wanda smiled as she mixed the batter.
"Hello Y/N", Vision greeted as he watched Wanda mix the batter.
"Venturing Vision's culinary skills to baking?" Y/N asked, Vision nodded and Wanda laughed.
"Where are you off to?" Wanda teased, "Peter whisking you away somewhere?"
So far, a majority of the Avengers seemed to be alright with her relationship with Peter, ignoring the age gap between the two of them.
Well, nearly all of them...
"We're going to Delmar's", Y/N replied back.
"Oh! Bring me back a sandwich", Wanda chimed.
"Will do", Y/N said, "hey, where is everyone?"
"Steve and Sam went on another run, Nat and Clint are on a quick recon mission", Vision replied.
The sound of shrill laughter boomed into their ears and Y/N saw Wanda wince and shake her head at the noise while she was mouthing 'wow' to herself.
Y/N knew who that laughter belonged to and she couldn't help, but want to laugh at it all.
"Oh, Y/N, I didn't think you'd be here."
Looking over her shoulder, Y/N raised a brow to the person who spoke in a condescending tone.
Dot or Dottie as she heard Bucky call the blonde haired woman stood in the entrance of kitchen, popping a piece of bubblegum loudly while her phone was in her hand. If Y/N was being honest, her relationship with Bucky had been on the rocks for a while before Dot, but Dot was the final nail in the coffin to end her relationship.
And at one point, Y/N would have felt some form of bitterness towards Dot's presence, but now, she felt nothing but annoyance at the woman's persistent need to try and one up for some reason or another.
"Why wouldn't I be here? I live here", Y/N replied in a confused tone.
"I figured you'd be... rocking the cradle and all", Dot said with a smirk.
Y/N wanted to groan at the jab towards her relationship with Peter, it was Dot's biggest thing to constantly bring up.
"It's robbing the cradle", Peter interjected as he walked into the kitchen. "Not that it applies to us
Peter walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders before pressing a kiss to her temple. Y/N noticed Dot's eyes hyper-fixated on Peter as Peter greeted Wanda and Vision but Y/N knew that were Dot was, Bucky was soon following and Y/N was not in the mood for dealing with the man.
"Ready, babe?" Peter asked as Y/n saw Vision look at the brownie batter.
"Yup", Y/n said as she slid out of the chair.
"Aren't you a little too old to be wearing that?" Dot asked, Y/N frowned.
Her and Dot were the same age and Y/n wore a yellow sundress since it was humid this time of year in New York. Y/N raised a eyebrow at Dot and glanced at Wanda, who rolled her eyes at Dot's comment.
"Nope", Y/n said, looking at the dress. "But you might wanna apply that logic to yourself, Dottie. We're the same age after all."
Dot frowned as Y/n got up from her seat, feeling Peter wrap an arm around her waist as he began to led them away fro the kitchen.
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Y/N looked at Peter amused as he told her about his squished sandwich theory, a smile on her face as he explained that it made the sandwich taste better. Wanda had happily taken her sandwich, running away to continue watch Modern Family in her and Vision's room.
That left her and Peter in the living room, watching Ahsoka on Disney+.
"Man, I want to buy her lightsaber", Peter whined, "it looks so cool."
"It's a nice lightsaber", she agreed with a chuckle. "Personally, I want Darth Maul's."
"That's a huge one", Peter said, "they literally have to assemble it in parts."
"But imagine how intimidating it would be", she argued.
"Now what are you two lovebirds talking about", Tony chimed as he walked in.
"Lightsabers", Peter answered with a grin.
Tony and Peter began talking about some upgrades for his suit when her phone vibrated, she grasped it from under her and saw it was a text from Bucky. She wished she could block him, but since he was a member of the Avengers, she couldn't since she was a asset for them.
Opening the text, she frowned as a slew of texts began coming in.
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She rolled her eyes and put her phone away from her as she hit 'DO NOT DISTURB'. She wasn't sure why Bucky had been like this, sending texts like this but she hoped he got the message soon as Tony said he was leaving to take Pepper on a date, allowing them to go back to their show.
Y/N relaxed back into Peter's embrace, laying her head on his shoulder without a care. She felt happy, even if she hadn't expected it to be with someone younger than her as Peter kissed the top of her head before she connected their lips together.
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It was their monthly Avengers get-together over at the Compound, everyone dressed in their nicest clothes as Tony held a nice fancy dinner. Y/N wore a backless cocktail dress that she had a hard time convincing Peter he could not mess with until after the party was over, although, she had a hard time keeping herself from Peter with his rolled up sleeves that showcased his arms.
Right now, they were all scattered around the room; Nat was working the bar for some reason or another.
"Hey there Tech Queen", Nat said as Y/N approached her. "Where's your other half?"
"Talking science with Strange and Tony", she shrugged with a grin. "Not sure if I trust you behind the bar, Nat. You make the drinks as strong as Asgardian liquor."
Nat laughed just as Steve walked up to them, he kissed the side of Nat's head.
"What are you two laughing about?" he asked.
"Nat's bartending", Y/N answered, Steve winced.
"Yeah, maybe let's not", Steve said, Nat laughed and waved him off.
Y/N looked around to see Carol engaged in some form of arm wrestle with Thor, Sam watching the two, Wanda was conversing with Pepper, Peter still with Strange and Tony, and Bruce and Rhodey talking.
She wasn't sure where Vision was, knowing him he was probably phasing through some walls or something.
"Here, drink this", Nat said with a grin.
"Oh no", Y/N said with a smile. "I don't trust you with making drinks. Last time I had one, I--"
"Yeah, Y/N, do tell us what happened last time you had one."
Her mood was killed, instantly as she noticed Bucky had arrived. Her face said it all as Nat frowned at the man, she noticed even Steve frowning.
"Did this conversation involve you?" Y/N sassily said with a raised brow. "I believe this was a A,B, and C conversation."
"Oh, I was just wondering if the last time Nat made you a drink, you maybe did some things that you regret… or someone.”
"No, no regrets here", Y/N said as she looked at her nails.
Bucky was beginning to look like he had sucked on a lemon by his facial expression just as she felt a pair of arms around her, looking over her shoulder to see Peter.
"Mr. Barnes", Peter cooly said.
"Parker", Bucky gritted.
Y/N saw Nat taking a amused slip of her drink.
"Dateless tonight?" Peter asked with a smirk.
"Just for tonight", Bucky grumbled.
"Huh, how... unfortunate for you", Peter said with false sympathy. "If you don't mind, well, I know you won't."
Peter gestured for them to leave a fuming Bucky and a very amused Natasha to be dealt with by Steve.
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Later, Y/N wrapped her arms around Peter's neck and he pulled her closer to her; Peter began to sway them with a grin on his face as she playfully shook her head at him, a grin making its way onto her face.
"Have I told you that you're pretty?" Peter asked.
"Not today, I don't think", she teased as Peter bumped their noses.
"What kind of boyfriend am I then?" Peter teased.
She felt happy with Peter, their relationship felt easy and uncomplicated as Peter connected their lips, squeezing her body a little as he tried to bring her in closer.
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hauntedestheart · 1 year
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Ever Since The Accident (Male Possession)
Something's been... off, about my roommate Dermont lately.
I met Dermont on a housing search Facebook group (this city is expensive) and we've been living together for three years now; I wouldn't exactly call him a friend but we get along well and I like to think I know him well enough. So I think I'm qualified to say that something is definitely up.
Everything started after his near-death experience– the smoothie place he went to after work mixed up his drink with someone else's and he had an allergic reaction to strawberries that made his throat swell up and... well, I guess "near death" isn't really the right word to use considering he did technically die for a minute, but the doctors were able to resuscitate him before any permanent brain damage was done. A miracle, they called it. Welcome back to the land of the living.
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They took him for examination: he'd banged his head on the way down and was suffering from some minor memory loss (apparently when he woke up he wasn't even able to remember his own name) but other than that he was in perfect health, and was free to go. I'm his emergency contact so when I picked him up from the hospital I spoke to the doctors and they asked me to keep an eye on him to make sure that his condition didn't worsen. Then I took him home.
The first day was the weirdest.
I could already tell something was off during the car ride back because he seemed... jittery? Nervous, almost, but in an excited way. He was doing this weird thing with hands where he kept staring at them and flexing his fingers, then he started patting himself all over. He was so distracted he didn't even realize it when the car pulled into the complex– I had to call his name like five times before he realized I was talking to him.
Apparently one of the things Dermont had forgotten was the layout of the house so I had to give him a tour– I'd never thought of our place as particularly fancy but he seemed amazed by it. I left him in the bathroom to take a shower and went to my room; thirty minutes later the shower was still running.
At first I was like, okay, the guy probably just wants to get clean after the hospital, I get it, but after forty five minutes I started to get concerned (he had just suffered a head injury after all) and I needed to use the bathroom too, so I went to check on him. As soon as I approached the door I heard the grunting- these were deep, aggressive groans, it sounded like he was struggling with something.
I panicked. The locks on in our apartment are shit so I jimmied the door open and immediately got an eyeful of him standing in front of the mirror, completely naked, pumping his cock like a horny virgin. If the mess already coating the sink was any indication, he hadn't exactly been struggling in there.
Needless to say this was MASSIVELY embarrassing for both of us. He apologized later, saying he "couldn't help himself" because it had been "so long" and I was like dude you were in the hospital for like a day, stop being so dramatic.
And since then things have just been getting weirder and weirder.
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For one thing, he's been a lot more positive. He wasn't exactly gloomy before but he was kinda gruff and kept to himself; now he's all smiles. It's almost sweet in a way how excited he gets about the smallest things: he savors every meal, he loves to run, he laughs louder than ever. And he's more helpful too– any time he sees someone with something heavy he offers to lift it for them. I think he's proud of how strong he is.
I asked him about it once and he told me he's just happy to be alive, which I guess makes sense considering the situation, but doesn't explain the other stuff.
He dresses like an old man now, not sure where that came from because that had never been his style before. He's stopped playing video games but has started watching boring sitcoms from the '80s. I know he never learned how to drive but he's asked to borrow my car a few times. I had to remind him how to use an iPhone. Stuff like that.
I asked the doctors and they said that some changes in behavior are normal after a head injury, but some of this cannot be normal!
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He spends a lot of time looking into mirrors now– basically any time he spots himself in a reflective surface he has to take a second to stare at himself. You'd think the guy had never seen his own face before!
I've noticed a pattern with his reaction: first he'll do a double take, then he'll touch his face, then he'll smile. And then he'll get distracted preening, turning his face left to right to study it from all angles, and he'll run his hands through his hair. He really loves to fluff his hair.
I know he's handsome but it just seems a little vain to me– and this obsession with his looks doesn't stop with his face.
Look, I won't beat around the bush, Dermont is ripped. He works out. BUT was always casual about it, and now suddenly he's obsessed with his muscles! I've literally seen him get distracted by them– he'll move his arm a certain way and then suddenly he'll stop, stare at his arm, and then start flexing. Sometimes he just randomly lifts his shirt up so he can look at his abs, and he's practically drooling while he does it.
There have even been a few times where I've had to kick him out of the bathroom because he was too absorbed in examining himself in the mirror, poking and prodding at all of his muscles. Groping himself really. I mean, maybe I'd do the same if I had a body like that, but surely he should be used to it by now?
In general he's been showing off a lot more. He struts around the apartment without a shirt, something he never used to do, and he doesn't even close the curtains! In fact, he'll actually walk right up to them and stare out at the city– I think he wants to be seen. We're on the third floor so anyone looking up will spot him in his underwear... or less, as has happened on a few occasions.
I actually had to put my foot down on this one because I didn't want to get kicked out for public indecency– I called a roommate meeting told him if he wanted to show off that badly he could make an OnlyFans. He somehow didn't know what that was so I (for some reason) tried to explain it to him and long story short, now he makes an extra $800 a month. But he pays the utilities, so I'm certainly not complaining!
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But– and it's a big but –as you've probably noticed, he's most obsessed with his ass. Always with the ass with this guy now, it's absurd. I've never seen a guy play with his own ass this much, if you leave him alone for even a second his hands find their way to his butt and suddenly he's squeezing it. Even in public!
He's always arching his back and peeking at it over his shoulder, wiggling it around, smacking it... and there's always this dreamy look on his face, like he can't quite believe this thing is really attached to him. I just roll my eyes– we get it dude, it's nice.
And sometimes I'll catch him with his hands down the front of his pants too, smiling like he won the lottery. That's weird, right?
It seems like, well... it seems like he's kinda into himself? Like he'd absolutely fuck himself, which doesn't make any sense but that's the only way I can describe what I've been seeing.
But the most weirdest thing? He's gay now.
Dermont had a girlfriend when he moved in but they broke up a year ago and based off of a few drunken late night sob sessions I don't think he ever really got over her. Well he's definitely over her now because ever since the accident he's been bringing a parade of guys to the apartment and screwing their brains out. Every morning there's a different dude stumbling out of his bedroom– he must have fucked half the guys on our block, and he's showing no signs of stopping.
I'm happy for him, love who you love, but it did kinda come out of nowhere. He'd never mentioned that he was into guys before but maybe after the breakup he wanted to experiment with new things... such as being the village bike.
Maybe he's on to something– after all, he's had way more luck with guys than he ever did with girls. All he has to do is shake that magic ass of his and they come running.
I did get tired of the noise after a while so I tried to casually work it into the conversation that maybe he should slow down his apparent quest for a thousand dicks, but he just laughed and said he "didn't want to waste any time this time around." Whatever that means.
I know a brush with death is supposed to make you reconsider your mortality but it seems like he's a completely different person now.
But at least he's happy.
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Gif sources: (1) (2)
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pencileraser1 · 2 months
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pencil eraser one. you word your long posts about dps very well so im pointing my frustration with media-ly illiterate people in your direction. im constantly seething with rage at this podcast episode i listened to a very long time ago abt dps bc they said neils suicide was STUPID and OVERDRAMATIC. and i just. i wanna throw up that boy killed himself and ur calling himnoverdramatic what do i even do. i am high a little and this is very much affecting me i cant get up from this couch 🎀
you're completely correct for this i actually have a few thoughts about this so uh bear with me for a second
theres something that sucks so much about this specific type of criticism of this movie in particular to me because of how much i relate to neil. i watched dps for the first time when i was 17, severely depressed and borderline suicidal and i related So Much to him. i didn't write off his suicide or criticize it because i'd Been There.
generally i feel like this criticism probably stems from lack of understanding Why he would do what he did, and there's a number of reasons that that this could be although that would be leaning a bit too much into psychoanalysis and assuming things i don't know about them so i'm not going to go into it really
up until it happens, neil seems like he's doing mostly okay, and particularly if you haven't seen the movie before i could see how to certain people his suicide might seem overdramatic since it's a bit of a sudden shift from mostly okay to suicidal. but the thing is that up until this point, neil has just been doing a very good job at hiding that something is wrong.
my interpretation of the movie has always been that he'd struggled with some form of depression as well as dealing with some amount of suicidal ideation before the movie and had just generally been good at masking it. during the events of the movie he is the happiest he has ever been because of the combination of the poets, acting, and keating. so when at the end of the play his father suddenly takes away all three, and his options are either to confront his father (something that he feels is impossible to do- even if it technically isn't, the fear he has surrounding it of his father listening but not caring, or making things worse than the are, or anything else, prevents him from doing it) or suffer through 10 years of medical school away from anything he actually cares about, he decides to remove himself from the situation entirely instead.
(theres something about the way his suicide is framed within the movie where in some fucked up way his suicide more than anything else is his carpe diem. he's seizing control of his life in the only way he is physically capable of anymore)
neil's suicide isn't rational but that doesn't mean it doesn't make sense or that he's overdramatic. just because logically waiting out the 10 years until he's away from his dad or leaving as soon as he graduates high school or turns 18 or whatever it is is a better option doesn't mean that 1. he'd have the idea to run away early or more importantly think it doable (he tries so hard to not directly disobey his father the whole movie and after doing it one time is now stuck in This situation, additionally, while this is the 50's and in general shit costed less/jobs were easier to get/etc. he is financially dependent on his father and running away without any support is not the smartest decision) and 2. that he'd be physically capable of enduring the 10 years. because 10 years is a long time Especially if it's 10 years studying to become a doctor, something that is both generally difficult and also something he Doesn't Want To Do. and so the sudden switch from happiest time of his life to suicidal throws people off and they don't understand why he wouldn't have done any of the other options that they thing are the logical ones but to him probably didn't seem physically possible.
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scoobydoodean · 9 months
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losing my entire marbles at deancrits saying he's abusive bc he was parentified like????? a) do you know what parentification IS and b) tell me you dont have real problems without telling me
anw heres a pretty pic of dean w glasses that im obsessed with to help cope w all the anons
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DEAN IN GLASSES!!!!
Someone just put it very very plainly in Courtney's inbox, but we all knew Dean's parentification was the force underlying the take that Dean has power over Sam... didn't we? ...I mean. I guess I can't speak for anyone else exactly, but I've written about how Dean's parentification is the driving force behind the narrative that Dean is abusive several times this year alone. In fact, before that anon clarified their meaning, I'd already done it for them.
Hardcore samgirls and others with this take on Dean seem to think Deangirls just "don't understand" the "power imbalance" in play. They think we've just never thought about their perspective, but... they actually just don't understand ours? They don't understand that what is absolutely vile and repulsive about their view is that it begins and ends with the perpetuation of Dean's childhood abuse.
One of the greatest horrors of parentification as a form of abuse is that it involves the illusion of power. It ascribes "power" to a child that that child does not actually have, and then judges that child for mishandling that "power".
"Something Wicked" is a great example of this. John blames Dean for Sam getting hurt, based on a lie that Dean had the power to stop the shtriga. In reality, Dean couldn't have done anything even if he'd been there, because the idea that he had power was nothing more than an illusion. He was far too young and inexperienced to be expected to carry through with a seasoned soldier's battle temperament when faced with a terrifying monster, but that isn't even the most direct expression of the illusion of Dean's power. His shotgun is. To harm a shtriga, you have to have iron-consecrated bullets. Dean did not have a weapon that could have harmed the shtriga. The gun only provides an illusion of power. When John blamed him, and Dean blamed himself—both did so because of a lie that Dean had power in a situation where Dean had absolutely none.
John blames Dean because he doesn't want to take responsibility for his own power and authority. He doesn't want to live with the fact that he had the knowledge, temperament, experience, role of protector, and consecrated bullets... but just wasn't there when Sam and Dean needed him. So he assigns all of the power and authority to Dean. Dean had the power. Dean made the wrong choices. Dean got Sam hurt. It wasn't John's choices or John's absence that nearly got Sam killed. John was helpless.
Every single time that samgirls claim Dean holds power over Sam through parentification, they refer to an illusion used to scapegoat a child for the actions of another. They assign Dean "power" over Sam that Dean does not actually have and then judge him for mishandling that "power".
The idea that Dean has authority over Sam through his childhood parentification is a lie. It is an illusion born from abuse. And when Sam occasionally decides he is unhappy with the outcome of the choices he made and doesn't want to face his own culpability, he does exactly what John did to Dean, because the poison drips down. Sam watched John treat Dean as if he possessed authority and power Dean didn't have for 18 years and some change. He learned how to assign Dean the same false authority and power and he learned Dean would absorb it, and now Samgirls want Dean to "curb that shit", while Sam blames Dean for his own choices in episodes like 1.10, 1.22, 5.04. In reality, there is no power imbalance.
Even if we want to argue that the false perception of Dean's power created the potential for an extremely toxic relationship regardless of whether the power is real or not, Dean would hardly be guaranteed the handle side of the knife. Sam has more than proven he can put that blade to Dean's throat.
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stevie-petey · 27 days
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Hi! I know it's pretty late to be asking this but I got a random blurb idea at three in the morning so I thought I'd send it in before I forgot it. It's for season one, episode 5/6.
After Steve finds Jonathan and Nancy in her bed and tells bug she deserves better he drives off with Tommy and Carol. Basically his POV that whole car ride. He's grieving, in disbelief and heartbreak. He's angry and sad, not only for himself but for bug. Tommy and Carol are only riling him up at this point. Remember how Tommy or Carol said something like " wow Steve you're right she really is pathetic to still stay with him" maybe we see the convo where that came from. I feel like he was excited to be around who he thought were Nancy's friends outside of barb, and it all came crashing down.
Again this is really random and super late but I was just thinking about season one Steve and this scenario popped into my head. For being such a little shit Steve really is handsome.
i loooove this idea omg yes ! n never apologize for sending blurbs i love doin em
enjoy <3
"did henderson really defend that creep?" carol practically throws herself over the drivers seat in disbelief of what steve has just said.
"she did." steve tightens his hands around the steering wheel. his mind is reeling. hes hurt, hes so fucking hurt, and hes angry. for you, for what nancy has done to him, for what jonathan has done to you. for years youve been his little pet, always doting on the boy, and he still has the fucking nerve to hurt you like this. "shes pathetic."
the words burn steves tongue. he regrets them immediately.
tommy snorts. "i mean, yeah. shes hot, but at least have some self respect, ya know?"
the boys words only cause steve to tighten his grip on the steering wheel harder. youre not pathetic; youre selfless. youre so fucking selfless and always see the good in people. it infuriates steve. youre everything and more, and hes seen people abuse this rare kindness for years. make fun of you for it, mock you as if the kindness you bring isnt a breath of fresh air for everyone.
he hears a yelp next to him and steve knows that carol has slapped tommy for calling another girl hot in front of her.
"i just dont get it," steve sighs out. theres so much he wants to ask, to say and plead and demand. he cant get the betrayal in your eyes out of his head. youd looked devasted when hed told you what he saw at nancys. how jonathan had been wrapped around her.
and yet even as the hurt crossed upon your face, you still managed to swallow down the hurt and see the good in people.
in the people who didnt fucking deserve it.
"fuck if i know, man." tommy rubs at his arm and glares at carol.
she simply rolls her eyes at him and goes back to picking at her nails. "why do we assume she even knows how to do anything other than put on that angelic act bullshit?"
"what, like she doesnt know how to be mean?" tommy asks, furrowing his brows.
steve stares straight ahead. "all shes ever been is kind."
"exactly," carol throws herself against the drivers seat again. "whos to say its real? not some creepy act? better yet: how do we know shes not, like, fucked up in the head?"
youre not. steve has seen your intelligence. youre the top of your class and hes had to shamefully ask you for help with english homework.
tommy frowns again. "wait, i thought she was smart."
"god, youre dumb." carol shakes her head. "what i mean is, what if she physically incapable of being mean. like, some chemical imbalance in her brain."
"could explain her freakish devotion to byers." tommy says.
steves grip tightens once more hearing the boys name. jonathan byers. resident creep who somehow has captured the heart of hawkins sweetheart. the same boy who has now cheated on her with steves girlfriend.
he will never understand this.
nancy has hurt him, shes abandoned him like everyone else has, and he knows that somehow its his fault.
but you? you dont deserve any of this.
what carol has said makes sense. maybe you really dont know how to be mean. if youre physically incapable of it, then steve decides that he has to do something about it.
if you need to be mean, then he'll be mean for you.
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