Not The Cliffhanger 😭

Fanfic authors are amazing like they could be literally anyone. That one coffee au you read last night? Could have been written by morgan freeman who knows

the front seat of the car is a type of confessional

I need more of this desperately

to all the loves you might have known (ch. 1)

stiles stilinski x reader

read on ao3

words: 3k

summary: If your favorite romance novels taught you anything, it's that the only way to save yourself from love is to pretend you have never known its call. To avoid falling prey to the tragedy that is romance, each time you fell in love, you did what every great novel protagonist does. You wrote about it, but never acted on it. Love letters, penned to each owner of a piece of your heart, were hidden away and never to be read by anyone but yourself.

But what will happen when the letters are sent out without you knowing? Will anything ever be the same again?

notes: just a heads up - Kira moved to Beacon Hills in the 6th grade, reader moved in the 7th; no big bads will be coming for our pack in this fic; Allison is alive (she just moved), Argents adopted Isaac so he moved too (no Allison/Isaac relationship); I think that's it for now!! enjoy!! :)

You were never good at expressing your emotions, at least not to those who really needed to understand them. You tended to keep those feelings bottled up, locked away, and filed inside your own head never to be seen again. Usually, they were pretty easy to forget as you focused your time and attention on the people around you instead; but, there was one emotion that was harder to conceal than the rest.

Love.

You only believed yourself to have been in love five times (which, for a senior in high school, was actually a lot). Each time you fell, it felt as if the earth was crumbling around you and the only lifeline left was them. Their presence left you with an all-consuming passion that was sickening and overwhelming. You hated feeling that way, yet you silently craved it. More importantly, you had no idea how to deal with it.

When you first started to understand what it meant to love, you searched high and low for any clue on how to navigate this strange new land. In your frantic search for answers, you stumbled on what you believed to be the greatest source of wisdom you could find on the subject- Romance Novels .

If those books told you anything, it was that the only way to save yourself from love is to pretend you have never known its call. To avoid falling prey to the tragedy that is romance, each time you fell in love, you did what every great novel protagonist does. You wrote about it, but never acted on it.

You started out with a series of diary entries that took up page after page in your journal, but soon you realized that wasn't helping to rid yourself of your affection. So you began to write full, excruciatingly-detailed love letters to these people that, more than likely, did not remember who you were. The thought of said people finding out about this secret shame of yours was enough to make you want to flee the county, but the price of plane tickets being what they are, you decided it would be easier to simply hide the messages. So the love letters, penned to each owner of a piece of your heart, were hidden away and never to be read by anyone but yourself.

Your first letter was addressed to Derek, an older sleep-away camp counselor from when you went to Camp Triskelion in the 6th grade. You were into his brooding and so-called "mature" nature, oh how naive you were. The second was for your locker buddy Malia, your first ever crush on anyone who wasn't a boy. She protected you from idiotic bullies and treated you as if you were worthy of protecting. How could you not fall in love with your very own middle school knight-in-shining-armor?

The third belonged to Stiles, the recipient of your first almost kiss and your first actual kiss. His letter happened to be the longest, not that you were keeping track, and his was the crush that took the most time to recover from. For never having actually dated him, it was impressive how much he shattered your young heart.

The next letter was for the tortured yet beautiful Isaac, your lab partner in your sophomore year chemistry class. You had never been able to confide in someone as quickly or as deeply as you did with Isaac. He made the world seem lighter, more manageable, even when he felt the same world dragging him down into the dirt. Isaac was the only one you ever considered giving your letter to until he moved away in the middle of junior year. He did give you a letter before he left, but you never read it as you were afraid of what it could say. You tucked his letter in the bottom drawer of your desk with the rest of your own, out of sight but never out of mind.

Finally, there was Scott, the last subject of these letters. Scott McCall embodied the ideal man everyone spent their life looking for. He was kind, thoughtful, protective, observant, the captain of the lacrosse team, a volunteer at the animal shelter, and oh-so easy on the eyes. The entire school admired him from afar, or in any way they had the chance to. You were fortunate enough to admire him up close and personal. Scott was your next door neighbor, one of your closest friends...and the boyfriend of the best and most perfect person alive. Kira Yukimura.

You moved to Beacon Hills in the 7th grade, when friends had already been long established and becoming an outsider happened as quickly as the days turned to nights. Kira had been one of the only people to reach out to you, having been a new kid quite a few times herself. She absorbed you into her friend group and within five minutes of being around her, it was clear that the two of you were always meant to be in each other's lives. That's why you felt so awful about the fact that you had been in love with her boyfriend the entire time.

--

"Hey what's got you so far inside your own head?" Scott's voice brought you out of your daydream and back to the reality of picking at your half-eaten lunch while listening to him and Kira argue over who loves each other more.

"Oh! Nothing," Of course, he knew you were lying. If he couldn't tell from your heartbeat alone, he would know just from years of being your friend. All you could do was hope he wouldn't call you on it. "What were we talking about?"

Kira smiled at you with a warmth that rivaled the sun, burning away at the guilt in your stomach, "We were talking about how crazy it is that we're seniors, as cliche as that is! I mean, it feels like yesterday that I was pulling you out from under a mountain of papers in a middle school hallway."

"You know, I never did get revenge on Stiles for all those paper cuts," a laugh escaped you as you recalled the various band-aids that littered your arms and how Stiles had outwardly cringed whenever he saw them.

"Trust me, the guilt itself was revenge enough to last a lifetime," a familiar voice called out from behind you and even after all these years, it still brought chills up your spine.

A frantic blob of gray appeared beside you as Stiles plopped down in the extra seat at your lunch table, immediately and furiously scribbling in his notebook.

"Hey, Y/L/N," he said as he briefly looked up at you with a smile, which you weren't sure if you wanted to kiss or smack off of his face.

"Stilinski! Where's your owner? There must be a ginger queen running around somewhere searching high and low for her lap dog." You heard Scott choke on his water and Kira poorly attempting to hold in her laughter, but your attention was on the boy next to you.

"Ha ha," he muttered under his breath, trying not to catch your gaze with his own. Once he realized you were waiting for a reply, a sigh that could be felt through space and time left his lips. "She's...um interviewing new applicants for that position. Has been for a while , apparently, and I was the only one who hadn't gotten the memo! Lucky me!

"I got the official notice on Friday. And I really needed that reminder so thank you! I had not been kicked in the groin enough this weekend, so thanks for giving me another opportunity!" His head dropped onto his notebook, his arms shielding his face to try and hide his wounded expression from you.

As soon as he finished speaking and you saw that pained look in his eyes, you wondered how much it would cost to surgically remove your foot from your mouth.  "Mischief, I'm so sorry." And you were. Lydia was his everything for as long as anyone could remember. This was going to be a bitch and a half for him to deal with.

His bitter laugh seeped into his next words, "Stop acting like you aren't ecstatic about this, you hated her. You never liked us being together." His words were muffled by the notebook paper, but his tone rang loud and clear.

"Hey, hate is a strong word." You felt questioning eyes on you from the opposite end of the table, "Okay, maybe I hated her, but how I feel doesn't matter. Stiles, you were in love with her, this is gonna suck no matter what anyone thinks. Even if what I think is that you should want more than the one-sided relationship you had with her. You deserve better than that, Mischief."

He lifted up his head but avoided your gaze by turning his attention back to the ink covered page in front of him. "Yeah, well you can't always get what you want, right? Life never seems to work out that way. We should know more than most."

You tried your hardest not to let the disappointment cloud your face when you turned your body to face forward. Scott's eyes were still firmly planted on the side of Kira's face, oblivious to anything and anyone but her.

"Yeah, life's a bitch."

--

Hours later, you found yourself still thinking about the conversation from lunch.

"You can't always get what you want. We should know better than most."

Stiles's words echoed through your mind and left you thinking of only one thing, the letters. Those letters were the epitome of everything you wanted that you knew you could never have. They represented a fantasy. A fantasy that one day, when you sent those letters out, your love would finally become known and that love would be returned. They let you live in a fantasy world where you would be loved by the beautiful people that you always kept in your head but could never hold in your arms.

Maybe, that's why you kept the letters in the first place. Maybe, in the back of your mind, you knew that if you ever sent them out into the world, you would be faced with the reality that these people didn't love you, that they never would. If they ever knew of your affection, you could be faced with rejection, or worse, humiliation.

However, if they stayed with you, tucked away in a drawer, hidden under some old school papers and long-forgotten trinkets, the fantasy could stay alive. You could pretend that there was a possibility that they did love you. You could live in your head rather than having to come to terms with your reality.

Wanting to stay in your head a little longer, you decided to reread your letters. As you entered your room after school, you narrowed your focus onto the lower right drawer of your desk. You opened it, lifted the old school papers, and picked up the love letters from their hiding place. After shedding your backpack, you settled onto your desk chair and starting shuffling through the pile in your hands. Before you could decide on which one to read first, you heard your doorbell ring out through your front hall.

"Y/N! I think Liam's here for your study session! Do you want me to get the door or are you gonna come down?" your mother called out from the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm in the middle of something, mom! Can you send him up, please?" Quickly, you jumped up from your chair, shoved the letters back into their rightful place in the bottom of that lower right desk drawer, sat down on your bed, and did your best to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Seconds later, Liam pushed through your door and dropped his bag onto your desk chair, as he had done almost every Monday since you'd met him. "You ready to teach me how chemistry works?" His bright smile mirrored your own before he face-planted onto the bed beside you.

"I thought I was helping you understand history? What happened there? Why are we on chemistry instead?"

Liam flipped over onto his back to face you as he explained, "That was last year! World History was excruciating but I have a good enough grasp on US History that I'm like 92% sure I'll be okay. Plus, Mr. Yukimura knows what we go through, so he'll probably be more understanding if I miss an assignment because yet another person is threatening to kill us." You laughed along with him, the two of you trying to ignore the sting of knowing that danger was a given in your friend group.

"It's been one week of Mr. Harris and I'm ready to chew my own foot off just to have an excuse not to go to class," Liam spoke between gasps of silent laughter.

"Unless werewolves have developed a new ability to regenerate entire limbs that I am unaware of, let's keep your foot where it is, okay? If I remember correctly, there should still be some old flashcards and study guides from chemistry somewhere in my desk. Why don't you try to find those, and I'll get us some snacks. I have a feeling we're gonna be here for a while." You pulled yourself up from your spot and started toward the door.

"Do you know where in your desk they might be?"

Instead of turning around, you called over your shoulder, "No clue! Just start with the top drawers and work your way down!" Once you heard the sound of the drawers opening and papers shuffling, you made your way down the stairs.

After you had your arms full of snacks that would sufficiently feed a growing teenage werewolf, you made your way back toward your room.

"Okay, so I have doritos, popcorn, cheese-itz, pretzels, and crackers. I also have carrots and hummus if you're feeling more of a healthy vibe but I doubt that, so I'll take those. Oh and my mom made brownies but I didn't bring those with me so you'll have to go downstairs and get them if you wa-" You finally looked up from the pile of goods in your hands to see Liam holding five very familiar-looking envelopes.

Once he saw you in the doorway, he dropped the letters as if they burned him. "I am so sorry, Y/N. I was just looking for the study guides, and I found them! Yay! But when I lifted them up, I saw these, and you know me, I'm a naturally curious person so I picked them up when I saw some names that I recognized. I had no idea what they were a-and I was, yeah, I was  going to leave them alone but you were taking so long downstairs that I decide to read one. I mean, they weren't sealed and I didn't stop to think that, you know, maybe I shouldn't totally invade your privacy but I just kept reading and then you came into the room and now here we are...yeah."

You heard his voice, heard him speaking, but your brain couldn't seem to process his words as everything seemed to move in slow motion. You dumped the food on your bed and slowly crouched down to the floor, collecting the scattered papers. One by one, you stacked them in your hands. Malia, Isaac, Stiles, and Derek, all still hidden in their envelopes but...that's only four. You looked around and saw the last letter was outside its casing, the envelope cast to the side. When the realization hit you of what exactly Liam had read, your head snapped up to look at him.

"Liam, how far into this letter did you get?" You were sure he could sense the panic in your voice, your rapidly accelerating heart rate, the tears starting to well up in your eyes, but you were electing to ignore that. You could cry about this later. First, you needed to know how much damage had been done.

His face screamed of pity and remorse causing tears to cloud your vision. Met with silence, you asked again, "Liam. How much did you read?"

"Enough." He paused, not sure of how to handle this. To be fair, you didn't know either. "Y/N, why do you have these letters? Do they all say something like this? Why haven't you told him how you feel?" He sat down on the floor in front of you, carefully, so you wouldn't feel trapped by his presence. "Do you still feel this way? What about Kira?"

At the mere mention of Kira's name, the guilt in your stomach burned with a fiery rage and a lump in your throat made it harder to speak. "Liam, you can't tell anyone what you read. No one can know about this, okay? Not Stiles, not Scott, and especially not Kira. Please. Don't say anything about this."

You had evaded his questions, somehow telling him everything he needed to know. In your lack of response, he saw how alone you had been with these feelings and it scared him. He had never seen you this vulnerable before, he didn't think anyone had. For as long as he'd known you, you'd always had such a hard exterior, constantly trying to prove to the pack that you were strong and capable despite being one of the few humans among them. He thought you to be unshakeable, nearly invincible, but now, hearing your voice cracking and seeing the tears stream down your cheeks, he remembered that you were human. You were just a teenager, a heartbroken teenager who set their feelings to the side for the sake of others, and to protect yourself.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you, letting you collapse into his embrace, "It's okay, let it out. We don't have to talk about this right now. I'll wait till you're ready. Chemistry can wait for another day or another week. You're more important right now." He took the papers from your hands and laid them on the ground beside the two of you, curling you closer into him. He hoped you could feel his heartbeat and find comfort in the steady pulse.

Several minutes later, he was still holding you as tight as he could without hurting you. How long had you kept those letters? How long had you felt the things you wrote about yourself, about Scott? He brought himself out of his thoughts when he felt your breathing slow and your shaking stop. Liam pulled away to look down at your sleeping figure as a bittersweet smile that found its way onto his face. Trying not to wake you, he picked you up into his arms and laid you down on the bed. Once he saw that you were comfortable under the blankets, he went ahead and cleaned up any trace of what just occurred. The papers were put back on the desk, the food was brought back into the kitchen, and flashcards were shoved into his backpack. Liam was all but ready to leave when he saw the envelopes on your floor. Taking one last look between your sleeping figure and the letters, he scooped them up and snuck out of your house.

He knew it was wrong to take them, but seeing you that fragile flipped a switch in him. Burying these pent-up feelings had only caused you sadness and frustration. Maybe, if you didn't have to hide behind the secrecy of it all, a weight would be lifted off of your shoulders. Maybe, you could finally start to let people in, start tearing down your mile-high walls, and express your feelings without worrying about what people might say.

Only good things could come from people knowing the truth, right?

Can’t wait for my laptop to explode when the Unus Annus channel gets deleted. OH- Actually maybe Mark and Ethan will crawl through the screen and just yeet me through a window, like bunt kick me out ya know. Like whack, gone.

somebody get Chris Pine outta there lmao

friendly reminder that killing off carl grimes was a terrible decision for AMC

best player, best bet.

pairings. hockey!jj maybank x fem!reader, hockey!rafe cameron x fem!reader

part three of n/a parts.

about. you and jj go shopping for a dress

part one, part two, part three

warnings. swearing, gif not mine, abuse :/

ricky rocks. this is to make up for the last part lol (i also hated the way this turned out tbh)

“hello?”

“hey, hockey puck.”

“maybank.”

“don’t sound so excited,” you could hear his stupid grin from the other side of the line, it made your lips twitch slightly as you slowly sat at the edge of your bed.

“what do you want?”

“ward called for a dinner rehearsal,” he mumbled, “i need you there.”

“why?”

he sighed, rubbing his chin, “ward wants to get to know everyone before ‘the big show’, make sure everything moves smoothly.”

“i’ve already met ward,” you gritted, reminiscing about all the times you attended the elizabeth city hockey parties he hosted at the end of the year to celebrate the season. you weren't so fond of him despite him being one of your biggest supporters.

“where are you right now.”

"i'm home.. why?"

it was silent and you could practically hear the gears in his head turn as he thought along with the silence, his lips pressed into a thin line as he paced his room within the cameron house, "you have a dress yet?"

°•

jj had one hand gripping the steering wheel of his truck while the other held the gear shift, tapping his finger lightly so some sound filled the air. but it somehow made the atmosphere more awkward with no words to say and no things to do as you tapped your own fingers against the door, eyes glancing out the window every once and awhile, observing the gloomy air that was slowly falling over obx- - something you always loved when winter took over; when the cold nipped at your cheeks and turned them red, always giving you an excuse to wrap up in blankets and drink excessive amounts of hot drinks.

you tipped your head slightly, your eyes now roaming for something to create thought, and something did once you came to realization after studying the nice interior of the truck; clean, no sign of dirt anywhere. it smelt nice, even as jj's hockey bag was thrown in the backseat, which was unusual because the smell of sweat was always so distinct, even on your own bag, and you would consider yourself a cleanliness person.

jj was from the cut. you knew him and you knew who his friends were. you felt like an asshole thinking it but you had knew him since third grade, when he had came in late on the first day with dirt staining his shirt and face. he was no stranger to fun and you were sometimes envious of it, having the ability to let go and not think.

so why was his truck so clean? you knew but you still asked;

"why do you live with ward?"

he seemed to tense a little, his grip on the wheel tightening while readjusting himself. his other hand no longer held the gear shift but was rather now running a hand through his hair, an audible exhale fizzling past his lips.

maybe you shouldn't have asked...

as well as knowing jj had the nature of letting loose and having no care, you were also aware of his rough home life with his father, something rafe had told you, something you wished you hadn't known.

"never mind, uh sorry-"

"no, no," he shook his head, shooing away your apology, "it's fine. not that big of a deal anyways."

silence and then...

"i've never really had.. anything," he rubbed his lips together, hesitant with whether or not he should be telling this to you, which he knew deep down that he probably shouldn't, but he wanted to, he wanted someone to know. "never anything to anyone until ward. he saw something in me that nobody saw and it was like finally someone cared. that's why i live with him.. i don't have to think about anything, worry about anything anymore because he runs my whole life and there's something comforting about that."

you watched him as he talked, trying his best to explain it while clenching and unclenching his fist around the black leather wheel, keeping a strong focus on the road due to not wanting to look at you.

"but i had to shape up and there's nothing wrong with a little discipline," he tilted his head a little, saying these words as if reminding himself of this. it made your chest tighten as you watched him a little closely with sympathetic eyes, but you weren't sure why.

the dinner rehearsal started at 6:30, giving you and jj an hour to find a black dress for the scout party. the two of you had been at it for already an hour and neither of you could find what you were looking for. but mostly because half the time the two of you were screwing around, trying on things that weren't even black nor a dress. sharing stupid hockey gossip, and even giving each other pointers.

you would have never thought you would ever been hanging out with jj on your free time or even finding joy in his company. it was unusual to say the least, almost wrong, but you couldn't find the nerve to care as you sat across from him in the waiting area of the dressing room.

"you going to try on those dresses or not?" he motioned toward the pile of black dresses the two of you had randomly compiled together before entering into the private area.

"i don't know."

"we got like half an hour before i have to drop you off and get you ready," he checked his phone before looking back up to you, giving you a pointed look. "i should've asked if you can get ready fast."

"i can."

"try on a dress."

you huffed before pulling yourself up to your feet, grabbing onto the pile before walking into the little room meant for changing. the first dress was a no-go right off the bat, the second one didn't even cover half your chest, and the thrid-

"you gonna let me see or not?" jj had himself propped up against the dressing room doorframe by his elbow, waiting for you to finally show him one of the many dresses the two of you had picked out.

"hold on," you slightly mumbled, extending your arm behind you, attempting to reach the zipper.

"i thought you said you got ready fast."

you opened the dressing room door with a annoyed frown, something that quickly lost its effect once you became taken aback when looking up to jj who had a smirk on his face, practically crammed up against you with how close he was leaned up against the doorframe. you huffed, losing the shock while holding the front of the dress tightly against your chest in fear of it slipping.

"i need you to zip me up."

"what?" jj looked caught off guard, now looking you up and down, almost not understanding your question till you turned around, revealing the low zipper the stopped right before your butt. he still looked shocked as his eyes met yours in the body length mirror placed in the center wall of the dressing room before traveling down toward the zipper. "this the dress i picked out?" he coughed, hesitantly clasping the small piece of plastic.

you hummed in reply, diverting your eyes to the ground as the feeling of his knuckles slowly dragging up the middle of you back made your stomach twist into knots. you held your breath as you connected the coldness to the silver ring he wore on his pointer finger.

you could hear him exhale as well the moment the zipper was pulled all the way to the top and he made sure to take a wide step away from you before fully looking you in the eyes. you turned to face him, giving him a lopsided smile before he finally spoke, "looks good."

that was the dress you chose.

°•

"you're late," ward was on jj the moment he had walked through the front door with his hand tightly gripping the boy's bicep, attempting to guide him away and fast toward his room upstairs where you were sure a more formal outfit was laid out for him.

you clenched your jaw as your presences seemed to have been completely shrugged off as you were left at the front door alone.

after you had bought the black dress, jj drove you home to allow you to change. you wore a short purple dress that had practically knocked the breath out of jj due to him never seeing you in anything but your hockey gear and clothes that tended to cover you whole. you had to bite back a smirk.

the whole backyard must have been where everything was being hosted due to that being where everyone was mingling. it made you feel sort of out of place which was rather unusual since you had a the tendency to fit right in when it came to events like these. you had to.

"really went through with it, huh?"

you glanced back to see rafe holding a glass of alcohol. he was dressed up in a button up just like the rest of the boys were with slack pants. you grinned over to him with a slight tip of your head, "you look like a douche."

he scoffed, giving you a look up and down, "okay, princess." he threw back the rest of his drink before setting it down on a table. he shoved his hands in his pockets before strolling to your side, "i thought you were going to keep your dignity and not take his deal."

you shrugged, "i really want to win best player."

"so you're going to fuck him for it?"

you rolled your eyes before planting an elbow to his ribs, "don't be an ass. i've wanted this since elementary school and i think i can get it if jj steps down."

rafe only hummed.

you hadn't seen jj in over a half an hour, and after talking to rafe for what seem like ten minutes, but was really longer, he reminded you of your date. you had lowly swore to yourself before looking around and not finding him until you had walk to the long stretched dock where you found him lighting a blunt.

"a bit of a bad time for that, don't you think?"

he looked back at you with a raised brow as if daring you to stop him, but you only joined his side, planning on keeping your mouth shut until he spoke to you himself.. which seemed unlikely with the only sound filling the air being the waves crashing against the dock and him inhaling and exhaling smoke.

"you mad or something?"

he didn’t say anything but instead kept his eyes trained on the setting sun. the sky swarmed with orange, it made your chest fill with warmth despite beginning to feel uneasy about jj’s now silent demeanor. it didn’t feel right.

you took a step closer to him, trying to get a better look at his face in attempt to get a read on him, but you only felt your stomach drop as your hands couldn’t help but reach for both sides of his face, pulling him to face you.

“jj,” you half gaped, your eyes wide and wild as you had your gaze set upon the newly placed bruise on his cheekbone. “who?”

“who do you think?” he took one last intake before flicking the blunt into the water. his face was warm and seemed to have seeped into your finger tips as they practically cradled his face. “y/n.”

your head tilted from side to side as you tried to gather and look for other bruises or cuts or anything that connected to harm- you couldn’t even think or focus until his own hands grasped your wrists, now making sure you were looking him in the eyes, which were wide themself.

“it doesn’t matter,” he wanted you to understand that, but he knew you wouldn’t with how disappointed you seemed to be at his words, your face falling and slowly loosing your grip. “doesn’t matter, okay?

“you must be stupid if you think i’m going to believe that,” you let go of him, slowly backing away with a deep frown etched into your face. “jj-”

“hockey puck-”

your face fell deeper into despair, “don’t you fucking dare.” your face turned into a scowl and you raised your hand, “that stupid- jj you-”

“everything going alright down here?”

your eyes interchanged toward ward who appeared out of nowhere, with a cautious demeanor. you eyes his closely as he approached the two of you closer with his steps slow and eyes full of hesitation as he scoped out the situation, very aware that something was off.

“yeah, everything’s fine,” jj’s voice was quiet as he stared at you, almost signaling for you to keep your mouth shut with the way his eyes slightly widened. “i have to take y/n home.”

ward nodded, understandably with his hands stuffed into his dress pants pockets, “okay.”

you begun to walk before jj did with your hands tightly gripped in fists, mind racing but not knowing what to think. only anger.

navigation | taglist

@rrosecar @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @greengarsstuff @thedeadlythoughts @i-love-scott-mccall @pradastardust @little-miss-naill @pogueslandia @rudypankowisdaddy @rottenstyx @ravi0liii @black-rose-29 @ishwiya @uselesssapphickitten @rejectedfan @barzysandmarnersbitch @cc13723things

so I watched the sandman…