#how od you hear from that post race

[pancakes4nina]

Toto just mentioned that Kimi's floor had +30 holes since early in the race?? And he didn't complain. Respect him for that.🖤

[occamstfs]

In The Rink: Dunks

After moving far away from home Duncan seeks to find new community with the local hockey team. Little does he know that the Captain sees the potential for him to be a new star player.

My little reward for HairyJockTf went a little long so I broke it up into two stories haha! Hope you enjoy this ode to hair growth, jock stink, and hockey! -Occam

The sound of a puck sailing across the ice echoes through the freezing stadium, accompanied by the sound of the massive men racing to catch it. Skates on their massive feet send flurries of shaved ice up in their wake as they zip and turn in shocking displays of brutish grace. When bodies start to collide and fists start to fly in what Duncan Worthy thought was just a fun little scrimmage game he imagines how quickly he would be laid out in such a brawl and begins to hunt for the nearest exit. 

Almost as swiftly as the fight broke out however, coaches call their men to heel and the teams separate. After a second longer of posting up, all return to the game and seem almost playful in the wake of what seemed like genuine violence. Suddenly realizing this is far more a bloodsport than he was aware, Duncan starts backing away sheepishly. Though he was looking for a team sport to find prepackaged community after his move from the south, clearly ice hockey was not the move.

Unfortunately for the suddenly shy Duncan, his attendance today was initiated by him reaching out to one of the players soaring down the ice, Matt King, the team captain. As the burly player turns to see Duncan begin to skulk away he calls his coach to pause the practice and less than a moment later Matt skates to the edge of the rink and begins shouting for Duncan’s attention, “YO! Worthy!” His impressive arms seem even bulkier covered in the thick obscenely large uniform he’s wearing. Duncan audibly gulps, though thankfully he’s far enough away from the athlete that he could scarcely hear.

Duncan isn’t sure why he’s frozen in place, seemingly trapped by Matt’s attention. The skater rolls his eyes as he calls out once more, “Hey kid! Are you coming or what?!” Despite himself he starts walking down rinkside. It’s not like he’s not athletic, Duncan’s healthy, he prides himself on staying fit, lithe. But as he nears Matt it just becomes clear that he bit off far more than he could chew. Even without skates the captain stands well over a head taller than him. Duncan struggles to speak while everything in him begs him to leave with his tail between his legs and never come back. Realizing that Matt is staring down at him expectantly, demanding a response, he speaks up unprepared as he may be, “Well, uhm Matt-”

“Nah nah, call me Kinger, bud. So youse think you’re ready to hop on the ice eh?” Duncan feels his bones turn to jelly as every neuron struggles to heed his flight response. There is simply no recourse but to escape, he’s too small, they’re too intimidating, they’ll break him in half completely accidentally. But he remains firmly rooted in the captain’s gaze. Kinger whistles to the equipment manager to summon some skates for Duncan and the sound forces the fearful man to attention. His shaky hands grow rigid as the older man approaches with a pair of skates. “See ya out on the rink Worthy!” 

Kinger turns and gets back to the game. Duncan’s preylike instincts are overpowered by the man’s words. Though from any reasonable angle it’s just a phrase in parting, they sear into his mind like programming. See ya out on the rink. Pausing to watch the game resume, the desire to leave wanes as he sees the men grind against each other after the puck. Certainly looks like they’re having fun right? Wearing all that protection, how bad could it be? How bad could he be? Sitting down he changes into the smallest pair of skates the team had for him, even still his toes have about an extra inch of wiggle room. Neglecting to take that as yet another sign to back out, Duncan hops up on the wall and then he’s on the ice.

Still finding his bearings he slides along and sticks to the wall. The manager tosses him a stick and the coach implores he get used to moving around on the ice. Duncan sighs and, despite his limited experience skating, finds himself immediately moving with intuitive familiarity. Faster than he can comprehend it becomes second nature, allowing his attention return to the burly men on the far side of the rink going at it. Soon enough he can’t even remember what he was so scared of, excitement begins to build in his chest as he begins to follow the puck from afar. 

From his vantage point he races with a fluidity alien to himself, as if the skates have imbued him with a lifetime of experience skating. Chewing his lip he has a stray thought wondering about wearing a mouthguard which he promptly discards, lest it interfere with his keeping up with the puck. Eagerness to properly join in the fray with the crew of men who outsize him before even accounting for their bulky pads continues to burn within him, he scratches at his chest and finds his tee hugging his torso in a distinctly odd manner. And man, beyond whatever butterflies hide in his chest, his skin is itchy enough that he should be concerned about an allergic reaction. 

But no, no time. He’s gotta keep his mental. The puck goes long and flies towards him. Both teams follow the puck hungrily with their eyes before it nears the man who holds a hockey stick for the first time. He doesn't think as he moves, he doesn’t need to. It’s as if he were made for this. The sound of his stick making contact sends a crack through the stadium that echoes louder than a gunshot. The puck shoots past the men who now stand with mouths agape. He stands tall with pride, seemingly taller than he’s ever stood before. Must be the skates he thinks with a newfound cocky smirk across his face, but as his midriff is clearly exposed, the few hairs compromising his meager treasure trail fluttering in the aircon, it is clear something has changed in the man.

Practice is cut short soon after and Duncan has an immediate meeting with the Captain and Coach. Off the ice the confidence that filled Duncan begins to seep away, certainly not helped by the fact that he apparently threw on a shirt a couple sizes too small. He blushes as the older coach puts his hand out for a shake and his arm goes an embarrassing length past his sleeve. The coach simply smiles and nods though, and before Kinger even gets a chance to vouch for the newbie he’s already on the team. Duncan doesn’t notice as his shoes have apparently inched to fill the skates that were a size too large as his head begins to swim with the excitement of being out there with the boys. 

His shirt hugs his chest even tighter as Kinger pats him on the back, “Welcome to the team Worthy!” Duncan smiles looking up at his captain and while struggling to get his shoes to fit he speaks up only to hear the first voice crack he’s had in a decade, “Ah well, then yoOu- Ah!” His mouth slams hard enough it seems to be welded shut as he clears his throat. Kinger smirks and ruffles the newbie’s hair laughing, “Howsabout you go shave up and take a shower. Wear that tarp any longer you’ll have to peel ‘er off, hah!” 

With that he leaves Duncan behind and heads off to the locker room leaving his new teammate behind to take in his words. Shave? He scratches his cheek and tilts his head as he finds more stubble than he thought he left the house with. Guess it must have been a week since he shaved he guesses. Putting it on the todo list he then sniffs himself and grimaces as he finds himself muskier than he’s been after his sweatiest workout. There’s an audible sound as he pulls his sticky shirt from his skin which convinces him to expedite his time out of here. Still unable to get his shoes off he finds a pair of tennis shoes left with the equipment given to him and throws them on.

It takes a few steps for him to get used to them, despite his complaints to the equipment manager these tennis shoes are even larger than the skates he was given. Though feeling cramped in every other piece of clothing he finds himself not quite minding the room. Hopping in his car to drive home he furrows his brow as he finds himself needing to adjust all his mirrors. His new odor rapidly fills the car, overpowering the smell of his pristine equipment with ease as he speeds off to clean off the stink of his first practice. 

Storming into his apartment he struggles to tear his clothes off en route to the bath. His sweaty shirt gets stuck on his shoulders as he tries to yank it upward, exposing a core thicker, his waist seemingly filled out from the hourglass figure he has unintentionally maintained. Beyond that his treasure trail seems to be claiming far more real estate as it flourishes upwards and outwards, curls as thick and long as his pubes begin an ascent above his waistline as they begin to shade the whole of his lower stomach. 

No time for inspection however as he starts the shower going as soon as he gets the shirt off, grimacing at the clear tearing sounds of fabric giving way. Arms still upraised he quickly turns away from his steaming pits, quick enough that he notices not how his few curls have begun to multiply. Instead he leans in close to see the stubble that Kinger called out. He twists his jaw to get a good look at every angle and rolls his eyes as he finds it as patchy as ever. His eyes glaze over and his jaw slackens as he finds himself briefly distracted by a thought, or no, a memory? 

The rink always brings out a rookie’s stubble Matt- It’ll just grow back. Why shave when that’s time you can spend on the ice?

He comes to before he even notices he was out, his thicker hand scratching at stubble that is thicker, darker than it was seemingly seconds earlier. Duncan certainly doesn’t mind though, seeing his beard fill in more, becoming stubble he can be proud of fills him with a surge of pride, and below the belt something else begins to surge. He smirks as he contemplates whether he should masturbate before or after taking a shower, grasping at his cock and finding it weightier than usual he quickly makes up his mind. What the hell, why wait.

Then his phone rings, a message from his Captain. His cock twitches as he focuses in on the message, “yo worthy sry for not askin earlier- oilers v flyers 2nite, u down 2 come over” Without a thought or second of hesitation he replies “ya” and he begins getting ready to go. Turning off the shower before even stepping inside he remembers he still stinks and bathes himself in cologne, smirking as he stares at his body in the mirror, proud as he sees his paltry patch of chest hair seems larger, thicker than he remembers it being. He pokes at a new weight on his chest and fights the urge to flex his barely existent muscle as every movement seems to have a bit more force behind it.

Duncan pointedly avoids questioning new idiosyncrasies as they begin to pop up. Surely he didn’t just douse himself in Axe instead of showering? Why does he know where Kinger lives? When he goes to his wardrobe he finds most of his clothes simply do not fit right. Button ups struggle to close across his chest and thicker waist. He struggles to move his arms in tees and sweaters as they hug his shoulders. Nothing without an elastic waistband seems to be able to manage stretching around his ass. Throwing on his new tennis shoes as they seem to be the only ones that fit he finds them almost snug? 

Every roadblock causes micro-headaches. Questioning them only exacerbates the issue, while acceptance ameliorates. Throwing on sweatpants and the baggiest shirt he could find, Duncan doesn’t even give himself a once over before he’s out the door. On the road once more he only keeps one hand on the wheel while the other mindlessly feels himself up. His stomach is tighter for sure, with an alluring amount of give. New pecs pop out just far enough for his hand to push up on them, which allows him realize that any amount of excitement will cause his larger bulge to show in his sweatpants. No time to debate how he’ll conceal that from the Captain he wanders up to the front door and prepares himself.

As if Kinger knew he was standing there, the door swings open and the Captain’s thrown his arms around Duncan’s wider shoulders. His thick palms slam into the newbie’s back with enough force to send him falling on his face. Presently each slam only sends more pleasure into Duncan. Feeling his player’s package unmistakable poking into his own waist at the embrace, Kinger clicks his tongue, “Ah excited to see me eh? Hah! Be sure not to lose control bud, need all of youse out on the rink.” Released from the bro-hug Duncan gulps and blushes as he is less than certain he will be able to go long at all without giving in to desire burning stronger than ever. 

Seeing doubt in his expression Kinger’s friendly eyes switch to something far more commanding and Duncan stands rigid. Gotta listen to the Captain. Watching stubble thicken and the once baggy shirt tighten even further on his broad shoulders, Kinger returns to joviality and points to a stack of pizzas on the coffee table, “You hungry bud?” Duncan suddenly feels an emptiness in his stomach and wonders when the last time he ate even was as he feels a hunger more ravenous than he could understand overtake him. His mouth waters like a drooling dog as he mindlessly goes to tear open a box. Already stuffing his face he takes in the number of boxes and asks, with uncharacteristic slovenliness, “Scho, uhhh is more of the team coming or wha?” 

Kinger smirks and stands behind the smaller man, massaging his shoulders, “Nono those are just for us, didja forget how much food youse demolish bud?” Looking at the stack he knows that can’t be right, he’s never even had the need to exercise moderation. The idea of eating more than four slices is anathema, and yet less than a minute into the game he’s already starting his fifth and his stomach demands more yet. Kinger watches the man feast, knowing his newest teammate needs all the calories he can get as his body struggles to put on pounds at a speed eldritch. Shoulders broadening enough to be shoulder pads themselves as chest hair begins to bloom far beyond the small patch that has long made its home in the center of his chest.

Spreading out like a fungus, follicles neglected by puberty go into overdrive as his greasy hands funnel food into him, getting grease over stubble that begins to crest its way into a solid beard. Duncan is unaware as he demolishes the first box of pizza by himself as he is completely absorbed into the game on TV. Reacting to each play as if he were in the actual stadium. His legs bounce with anxiety as the players race across the rink, each time shooting up with more force as they bulk up. His expanding jungle of pubes, discontent from spreading upwards alone, send dense curls to shade his inner thighs before shooting down to cover his calves.  

Kinger moves to sit on the couch, attention solely focused on his team’s growing asset. His eyes struggle to keep up with the changes simultaneously rocketing across his body. Already he hears the elastic waistband of his sweatpants straining, Duncan’s, or rather Dunks’, butt filling out to the size needed to maneuver such an otherwise powerful form on the ice. The most powerful ass in the MLB has nothing on the monumental pair of cheeks that are a moment away from sending a tear through his sweats. Making an uncomfortable face Duncan kicks off his shoes before they begin to tear. Glancing down, Kinger finds he doesn't have the care to finish the job and remove socks that have similarly begun to turn to tatters. Curls spreading down from his meaty calves poke through the expanding holes on his tearing socks. His feet rapidly become hairy fins that would fit on any number of fantastic bestial men, toes surging through the front of his socks as he flexes his feet without thought.

The Captain jumps in shock as Dunks stands with a start and shouts at the ref, his voice clearly deeper, rougher, as spit flies from his mouth in a rage. Beard thickening as his neck similarly expands with his deluge of expletives at the man in stripes. Kinger puts a hand on Dunks’ arm to calm him down, “Hey hey bud, save it for your own penalties eh?” Clenching his jaw the newbie looks down and at the Captain’s words crosses his arms and barely stilling his anger at Kinger’s request. The man’s hand still resting on Dunks’ arm, both men turn to see the growing package not at all hidden in Dunks’ sweatpants as the sound of it tearing through his briefs resounds in the small living room.

Scratching at his meatier pecs he sits down and after a moment of hungrily staring at his Captain he rolls his eyes and returns to the game. His biceps are suddenly constricted by his sleeves so he does what any rational mind would and rips them off. Kinger’s mouth is ajar as he watches the increasingly brutish man toss the torn sleeves to the floor before scratching deep into his pits and sniffing. The Captain doesn’t pay much attention to the jungle of hair spreading out from Dunks’ pits, after all that doesn’t bring anything to the rink, but he would need to lose a few of his five senses to not notice how potent the changes are there. 

Patches of sweat appear all over the shirt that now hugs his burgeoning torso like lycra. But nowhere so prominent as under the still-expanding jungle of hair under his arms, musk thick enough to warrant stink lines, enough to knock a lesser man unconscious spills from his freed underarms. Eyes glancing over to see his Captain cover his nose in shock, Dunc smirks as he realizes how much power he holds. He grunts in his new barbaric voice as his pecs can no longer be hidden by his ratty shirt. Unwilling to hide his pride under a bushel, just as he removed his sleeves he wrenches his shirt off. This was of course made easier by the litany of tears sundered across it by his expanding torso. 

His breath catches in his chest as his pecs burst larger into the open air. Thick strands drip with sweat as they spread dense enough to be a pelt across his upper body. Moaning as he leans back on the couch, hair rapidly covers every inch of real estate it can find, connecting every disparate patch from pubes, to pits, to the scratchy underside of his neck. Expanding shoulders similarly aren’t safe as curls bound across them to meet with the itchy forest spreading up the small of his back. He shifts uncomfortably as thick strands similarly cover his ass, though somewhere in between slamming pizzas and screaming at referees he lost the shame to scratch such an itch in front of his Captain, and so he does. 

Kinger struggles to hide the grin on his face as the man in front of him becomes the enforcer he’s always dreamed of having on his team. He watches as the changes in his mind finally begin to show on his face. His brow thickens to hang over eyes that grow dull to anything but hockey. His iron jaw hardens over a beard that should have taken years to grow while his nose becomes one that has clearly taken more than a punch or two. It’s unclear how many of his front teeth or real or inserts, though something in the minds of both men makes it clear that they’ve seen his own teeth scatter across the ice on a handful of occasions, though not nearly as much as those of his opponents.

Kinger’s chest flutters with excitement as he imagines being on the pitch with Dunks. His own eye twitches as years of playing together begins to fill his mind. He’s always dreamed about having a teammate as committed to the game as he is and finally he’s got a brute enough to carry them to the trophy. Seeing the behemoth taking heaving breaths on his couch, torn clothing scattered around him, Kinger can’t quite help but feel there is some vital piece of the puzzle missing. The burly man’s hands trail to his crotch as every muscle in his body feels the need to give into lusts that control him but Kinger whistles and Dunks immediately halts his giving in, “Not yet bud, not yet. Gotta hit the rink first.”

Dunks’ mind fractures and remakes itself in a moment. Memories of over a decade playing surges into his mind. He remembers starting out a waif, as he was in reality this morning. He remembers hardening over the years alongside his captain, alongside Kinger. Becoming a man on the rink, becoming an unstoppable titan. Maturing into an athlete the likes of which his team's never seen, and with each leap forward in ability so to does he become more masculine, more virile, more of a man. No, more of a beast, higher function giving way to instinct and physicality. Kinger couldn’t be prouder, and until another reason presents itself he can think of no higher goal.

Coach never expected Dunks to be nearly as much of an asset as he ended up being. The hairy brute was always looking out for his Captain’s back, truly a tank on the rink. Often he would struggle to control his urges, on and off the ice, but a look from Kinger would always snap him back in line and empower him to come back even stronger, sometimes seemingly literally so. He never took more than two trips to the penalty box a game despite his ever-present urges to truly dominate his opponents. 

After months of success on the rink it becomes clear that Dunks’ virility is making him a bit of a loose cannon. Lucky for the both of them Kinger has an idea. When an old friend of Duncan’s reaches out to the team to inquire of Worthy, Kinger implores him to visit. While it would be unbecoming for the Captain to have a relationship with a member of the team it was clear that Dunks’ has long been in need of some manly relief.

As he’s drafting a letter with a one way plane ticket to Dunks’ once-friend he wryly smiles as he realizes exactly what the missing piece was all along, their team could use exactly one more player and if this Remy Woods ends up being even a fraction of his friend, there is no way for them to lose.   

Continue Reading with In The Rink: Woodie!

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — imgonnagetyouback | max verstappen

Description: Max ends the relationship with a phone-call.

Pairing: actress!reader/max verstappen

Disclaimer: Everything written in this fanfic holds no truth about anyone's personality or actions. It is made purely for entertainment.

A/N: everything i do used to be inspired by the 2014 ver. grimes. reader is unhinged as her, but gets development in the end!! THIS IS AN ODE TO THE "MONSTER" TITLED FIC I READ ABOUT LEE PACE.

"Let's break up."

Let's break up.

You could still hear the aftertaste of his voice on your ears. How nonchalant he sounded while denying a relationship of seven years. Why was he quick to leave? Did he find someone else?

You sniffled, wiping your snot with a tissue on your right.

I'm gonna get revenge.

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yourname: me, the dogs and @edmundquandt

liked by 728,391 others

>comments

maxversworldargentina: huh isn't she dating max? did u break up?

reversethismess: Who is he?

victoriaverstappen: ❤️

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Y/N L/N AND FORMULA ONE DRIVER, MAX VERSTAPPEN CONFIRM THEIR BREAKUP.

Yesterday UMG Inc. Agency released a statement to SSN confirming the breakup between Y/N L/N and her Formula One boyfriend.

The pair began to date each other in 2017, where Verstappen was accepted into Toro Rosso and Redbull Racing. They have been together for 7 years and have been dubbed as the most iconic couple in the Formula One paddocks.

Rumors between the two splitting emerged late March, however the couple affirmed that they were still dating each other. On December, however the netizens were greeted with radio silence.

According to L/N's team: the breakup was mutually agreed upon, as they grew apart from all the travelling required for their job.

>comments

grills93: I can't make it go away by making you a villain, I guess it's the price I pay for seven years in heaven.

lnworld: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AND HER NEW INSTA POST WITH EDMUND???? NOOOOOOO

carshfo: she defo cheated with edmund bcs no way lol

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Max's pulse was racing at the sight of you around another man's arms. Seeing your arms wrapped around his shoulders, leaning into him for balance as you laughed at a joke that wasn't funny at all. "- and then we found out that there wasn't a building in the hotel with those rooms." Edmund finished his joke.

By that time, you were already laughing uncontrollably.

Max clenched his jaw.

A piece of his heart regretted breaking up with you.

"Control yourself mate, he's a big investor." Yuri reminds.

Max didn't give a flying fuck. He didn't own any Redbull stocks. He's a good driver, this Edmund Quandt has nothing on him. His features only soften once he remembered the reason why he broke up with you. He wanted to focus more on his career. He wanted to test the pond for more fish.

He needed upgrades on his car.

Fuck.

He needed to chafe his knees for this guy.

"Funnily enough, when I was in Texas I had a similar encounter. I knew exactly what to do." Edmund placed a hand on the small of your back. Max prevents his eyelids from twitching.

Charles smiles, showing the crowd his dimpled cheeks. Charles always had the ability to charm other people. He was perfect, and now he's friends with Mr. Quandt whom he only met.

"I'm sorry for asking this Edmund, but are you two...?" Charles paused, allowing the other man to fill in the blanks. Edmund smiles - pearly white teeth and a godly physique.

Max doesn't fail to observe the glance that Edmund gives you, a look that asked for your permission.

"We're dating each other, for a month now - but we're still testing the waters." you chuckled, ignoring the presence of your ex-boyfriend despite his figure melancholily staring at you.

"I just want to put a ring on her." Edmund admits.

The other people fade into the background.

"My father always says, give her a ring with a big diamond so she won't be able to see how much of a monster you are." he teased.

"You're not a monster." your eyebrows merged into each other.

Max wanted to punch the air.

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yournamepriv: i love this big baby 🥺 @e123456

liked by 92

>comments

haileybeiber: i love this for u omgg

sophierichiegrange: So cute ❤️🥺

e123456: You got my good side! - yournamepriv: Ur good side is 360 degs

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Max takes a deep breath. Again.

You forgot to remove him as a mutual in your private account. And he was greeted by a picture of you kissing Edmund Quandt. His mind raced through a million different thoughts. Regret, anger, resentment - but they were mostly filled of regret.

He didn't appreciate what he got, and now it's gone.

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maxandynfanbase: do you get deja vu? 😭

liked by lewishamilton and 72,192 others

>comments

mercyplease9: EDMUND IS SO TALL??

ohnoaosd9: lewis we can see u 💀

holyhell1: i like pic 2 more

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yourname: visited some mangrove swamps with this big baby. 🥺your integrity makes me seem small... #savethemangroves tagged: edmundquandt

liked by maxverstappen, lewishamilton and 1,283,923 others

taylorswift: You and Edmund have the KINDEST heart. - yourname: thanks taytay i wanna see u and trav here next time - taylorswift: Will do! I'll tell you when my schedule clears up. - yourname: love u ❤️

haileybeiber: We love a momma who cares

sophierichiegrange: <3

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"I can't believe she's out there helping the fucking mangroves." Max places his phone on the couch.

He couldn't believe your sudden change in tune, that drastic of a change to come from someone like you? "She used to complain being in the EU because it meant not using plastic straws." he breathed, still choosing to believe that you were like him.

Still the same crazy. Still the same stupid.

"She's really being fake for him." he shook his head.

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yourname: i totes know how to play 🎾 this friday we're having an event for all the young racecar drivers that unfortunately can't afford to pursue the sport. all proceeds will go to @bmwfoundationsports and the @grandprixtrust !!

liked by edmundquandt and 1,283,912 others

>comments

edmundquandt: ❤️

CharlesLeclerc: Will be in attendance. 🫡

oracleredbullracing: We love a Queen with a good heart

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maxverstappenupdates: Max Verstappen in @bmwfoundationsports and @grandprixtrust.

liked by kellypiquet and 23,392 others

>comments

youalloverme: HE LOOKS SO SAD...

maxismybf: Hadnsumm

posyposie: wondering if a dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life

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He takes another sip of his whiskey, forgetting about the cameras that snapped his figure left and right. There were a million things he wanted to say to you, but he wanted to start with a question.

"I never imagined seeing you change yourself for a guy." he scoffed.

You turned around with your eyebrows raised. Flabbergasted at his insinuation. "Change myself?" you repeated the word, finding it to be hilarious on his tongue.

"The whole save the earth, save the kids thing - you don't care about that. I understand though, money is money and your boyfriend has a lot of that." Max allowed the alcohol to speak in his behalf.

"You don't have the right to talk about me or my integrity. You abandoned me, remember?" you argued, feeling anger pulse through your veins.

Since he left, you tried to make yourself better.

"When I was with you, we were both horrible people. Quite literally the rich people cliche that we promised not to become. I guess you were right, we weren't growing together - and now I've become a better person without you - all because of Edmund." you gritted your teeth, grabbing the champagne on the table before the media realized that the 'ex-lovers' were talking to each other.

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(PRE-EDMUND QUANDT.)

I'm gonna get revenge.

That night you planned to ruin his chance at winning by exposing a flaw in the car that would allow the other drivers to overtake him. A button outside of the car - with the engineers that could remotely turn off a key engine that allowed his car to move faster.

He told you about it because driving at that speed endangers his life, and if you were the only one in the administration panel that knew about it - he made it your duty to push that button.

You grabbed your laptop, sneaking inside the garage. "What are you doing?" a voice emerged from behind you, and you momentarily stopped with the program.

You turned around - only to be greeted with your ex-boyfriend, Edmund Quandt. A man that your parents adored. A man whom everyone thought was going to become your husband, and he was here - behind you. Looking at you.

"Just grabbing my things, I won't be here anymore." you lied. Despite your obvious lie, he chose to give you the benefit of the doubt. He always kinda chose to see the better side of a person, rather than thinking the worst of them first.

"Oh why is that?" he asked with a smile. "Because of things..." you evaded the question - not wanting to rant about your other ex-boyfriend that broke up with you because of a phone call.

"Are you done with grabbing your things?" his eyes narrowed.

"Oh yeah." you breathed.

You had to evade your plan of revenge.

"Do you want to grab some coffee?" he offered.

"Of course."

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Max Verstappen I'm really sorry for doing that. Must be all the Whiskey I drank 😅

Y/N L/N Drunk actions are sober thoughts, Max

Max Verstappen I still shouldn't have confronted you It's just really weird seeing you post things like save the turtles, donate to the kids we never gave a fuck about those 😆

Y/N L/N Yeah, I didn't care about them But now I do We used to be the same but now we aren't

Max Verstappen ?

Y/N L/N You broke up with me because you wanted to focus on your career Because all you care about is money and success We both got stuck on that We didn't see the value in other things When we broke up, Edmund brought me back to earth Opened my eyes to the privilege we've been granted

Y/N L/N Take this as a warning Max The high life isn't gonna last forever

*blocked*

[allmyfictionalfantasies]

Believe Me - Snippet

So, I sent a request to @formulafanfics13 (anonymously as I was weenie 💚🍀) asking her - if she felt so inclined - to put an idea I couldn't get out of my head into a story. I know her talent could do it justice. But I fear I may have inadvertently inspired myself to maybe start posting my ideas, even just rough ones because why the hell not!

So here's the first try. This is just the snippet of the idea in my head. I do hope at some point to flesh it out and continue it but this is what I have so far.

Pairing - CS55 and BestFriend Reader (no Y/N because I can't be doing with that).

Warnings - swearing, non-translated Spanish, no smut (yet)

Feedback is welcome, however, out and out rudeness or nastiness is not - this blog is going to be a safe space and if I can delete, remove negativity then I will. I don't control much in life but I do control what's posted here.

This is a fantasy inspired by a real face, but nothing more. An ode, if you will.

Reblog and comment away, but please do not repost my work.

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

The two of you met a while after you moved to Madrid. It hadn’t been in your plans to uproot and move countries but you’d need an escape and decided to put your degree to good use. You needed stability so you took the plunge and bought an apartment, a nice one, one you were determined to call home. And you found yourself a job in a language school - the money was ok and you could supplement it with private lessons on the side. You’d been in the city a couple of months and had yet to meet the owner of the other apartment on your floor, but downstairs (an older couple with a very cute, very tiny dog) had told you that he travelled a lot for work and that it wasn’t for them to say anymore. “That doesn’t make it sound like you share a foyer with a hitman.” a friend said when you told her. You missed her, missed all your friends but you needed a fresh start, away from what had once been home but no longer felt like it. “Wonder what he really does?” you’d replied. 

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

Turns out, he’s a racing driver. You knew exactly who he was when you finally met one evening as he was heading to the lift and you were exiting it. He has his arm around a stunning woman but both met you with warm smiles in the hallway. “Ah!” He said. “La nueva vecina!”

“That’s me.” 

“Speak in English. Noted.” He says with a smile. 

“O en español, si prefieres.” You reply with your own smile. 

He introduces himself and his partner, apologises that they have somewhere to be, and you say brief goodbyes.

As soon as you enter your apartment you send a quick text to your friend. He’s Carlos Sainz. Her only response is a string of incoherent letters and random emojis. He’s her favourite. 

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

Weeks pass, a few more hallway encounters here and there. Those become accidental coffees together in the cafe on the corner. Chit chat becomes conversation. Conversation becomes discussion. A Friendship you didn’t expect but discovered you really needed. Sharing leftovers when he’s home. Texts turning to phone calls when he’s away. You tell him everything one even. Why you moved. Why you felt like you had to move. A drunk driver taking half of your family and illness taking the last person. Madrid was your fresh start. He listened intently. He was so good at that. He shared his worries about his relationship. His fears that she wasn’t faithful. His hesitance to confront her in case he was wrong. How he felt like they both hand one foot out of the relationship but neither was brave enough to end it. It was comfortable and convenient, but it wasn’t it. A few days after that conversation however, confrontation could no longer be avoided. 

You heard shouting in the hallway. It was them. You get up to go see if everything is ok but stop as you hear what’s being said through the door.  “Basta, Marta. Estoy harto de las mentiras, de los secretos. Si quieres estar con otro hombre, vete ya! Pero me dejas en paz.”

“Carlos, tenemos que discutirlo-”

“No. No vamos a discutir nada. Me engañaste. Con varios. No hay nada que discutir Marta.” 

You know you shouldn’t be listening but you can’t help it. Your heart hurts for Carlos. All his fears were founded. You can hear the lift bell ring and the doors open and close. You’re trying to decide whether to go out when you hear a knock on your door. You open it and see his wrecked face. Neither of you speak, you just pull him to you and hold him tight. 

Months pass. You grow closer. His hugs and touches fill a hole you didn’t know you had. Movie nights on the sofa. Video calls when he’s away. Dinners with his family. Trips with him to the south, to Italy, to Monaco. He was your rock and you were his. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Talking one evening on his sofa in Monaco, the light of the setting sun streaming in through the windows, the topic of sex comes around. 

“God!” He groans, “I miss sex.” 

You laugh into your glass. “You don’t want to find a hook up? I don’t imagine it’d be that hard.”

“That’s the problem! It’s never just a hook up. It’s them hoping for more when I can’t give it, or worse - they’re hoping for a quick payday with a gossip column.”

“I suppose. But aren’t there apps for people like you? Famous or wealthy or whatever?”

“Yeah, but even they’re not safe anymore.” He sighs. “What about you, can I live vicariously through you?”

“Hah! Afraid not.”

“Even old stories, come on. You tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.”

“I have nothing to tell.”

He blinks at you. “What?”

You smile softly back at him. “I have no stories, Carlos. No bad dates. No toy reviews. No relationship dramas. No top tips to cum in under 3 mins.” You laugh. 

“How…you mean…¿qué dices, nena?” He’s staring intently at you now. You stare back. You refuse to be embarrassed by what you’re telling him. 

“Digo que soy virgen, Carlos.” You set your glass down. “Never had sex. Never had an orgasm. Never been on a date. And never been kissed, well, not outside of a peck on the lips during a game of spin the bottle when I was like 18.” 

“Qué bromas, nena. Well done. You nearly had me.” He laughs softly but stops as he watches your face. He takes a deep breath. “You’re not joking are you?” 

“Nope. Not joking. I am a 32 year old, certified virgin. No-one’s been in there except a nurse, once.” 

“Stop that.” He moves closer to you.

“Stop what?” You scrunch your brow at him. 

“You’re deflecting with jokes. Stop. It hurts you. I can see, why are you hiding that?”

“Carlos, I didn’t bring it up for a pity party or-”

“And you’re not getting one.” He cuts you off. “Is there a reason you’ve never done…any of that? Did someone hurt you? Did someone-”

It’s your turn to cut him off. “No! No, nothing like that. It just never happened. I was never asked out and I never met anyone that I felt drawn to ask out. And I cannot even begin to imagine sleeping with someone I don’t know. And dating apps give me the ick and that seems to be the only way anyone meets anyone now so I reckon I just…missed the boat, I guess.”

“Not one person ever asked you out?” 

“Nope.”

“That cannot be true!” Carlos shakes his head at you. 

“Sorry to break it to you, but it’s very true. Not that I’m surprised in any way.”

“¿Perdón? Explícamelo por favor?”

“Explain what? Look at me. It cannot surprise you that no-one has ever wanted me.”

“That is not true.” His eyes hold yours.

“See! Even you can admit-”

Carlos reaches out with both hands and grabs your face, cutting you off again as he holds you gently but firmly. “No, nena. What’s not true is you thinking no-one wants you.”

You close your eyes and sigh, setting your hands on his wrists, trying to pull his hands from your face. “Carlos, don’t, ok? I’m short, I’m fat, I’m broad, and I’m pale.” His right hand drops to your neck, but you can’t budge his left as he moves even closer. You try to move away because something has shifted and you don’t know what, but he won’t let you.

“You are smart. You are funny. You are soft and warm and joder you always smell so fucking good.” He’s staring directly into your eyes and you want to look away and never blink at the same time. “You have no idea at all, do you?”

“What…what are you talking about?” You ask softly, suddenly finding you have to reach for your voice. 

“I thought…but you just didn't know. Diós. I stopped because I thought-. I-” 

“Carlos, what are you talking about right now? Can you please finish a sentence because you're making me nervous.”

He closes his eyes before resting his forehead against yours. His thumb stroking your neck as the hand still cupping your cheek moves back into your hair, tightening it in his grip. “I thought you didn't respond to my flirting because you were letting me down gently without addressing it. That you didn't want me but you didn't want to lose or change our friendship. So I stopped. I didn't stop touching you, because I couldn't and I could see that you liked it too. But I thought you were just as touch starved as I am so I took what I could get.” 

You pull back to look at his face again. “Flirting? What flirting? You flirted with me?” 

“Jolín, yes I flirted with you. You really didn't know?”

“Look, you don't have to be nice and say that just because I told you this.”

“I am not.” His grip in your hair tightens and you gasp involuntarily. His eyes drop to your mouth then rise back to yours. “You do realise that you clearly misread flirting as people being nice to you every time it's happened?”

“Or they weren't flirting and were just being nice!” You argued. 

“The day you wore that long floral dress out to dinner when we were in Málaga. I knew I had to say something but I had to be careful. I was flirting when I called you Preciosa. I was flirting when I spun you around. The waitress was flirting when she complimented your dress.” 

“Stop.” You shake your head in his grasp, trying to pull away but he won't let you. 

“No. I won't stop. Because I need you to hear me and I need you to believe me. We don't lie to each other. We made that promise and I don't break promises nena.  Nunca. If I told you right now that I have wanted you since that night we fell asleep together on this sofa. Since I woke up beside you and you pressed your face onto my chest and sighed like you'd found safety there. That that was when I realised what you meant to me.”

“Carlos I don't understand…” you close your eyes. 

“I know that brain of yours. It's running wild right now. So I need you to look at me, guapa.” 

Your eyes stay closed. 

“If I told you right now that I want you. That I have wanted you for so long. What would you do? Don't overthink it. Gut reaction. Would you want me back?”

Your breath catches in your chest. You slowly open your eyes to look at him as you play his question in your head. 

“Honest answer?” You ask him, barely above a whisper. 

“Siempre.” He whispers back. 

“Yes.” God you hated how hard it was to get that word out. How scared you were to say it, and how scared you are to look at him now that you have said it. So you tell him that. “Carlos I’m scared. I have never wanted someone before. I've never felt like this. And I don't know what to do with that.”

He lifts a hand to stroke your hair, the other still cupping your neck. 

“And if I told you I’m in love with you, ¿qué harías? Gut reaction, guapa.”

“Cry.” You say as your eyes fill, but you laugh as you can't stop the smile spreading across your face for a few seconds, before you catch yourself and bite your lip.

“No, see how happy you were when you let yourself believe me. Don't stop now. Believe me Preciosa. Te amo. Te quiero. Joder, I wish I'd just told you months ago.” 

“Carlos, I don't…I am so far out of my depth here.” You sigh, giving in and leaning into him, your forehead pressed against his chest. He moves his hands and wraps his arms around you, dropping a kiss on top of your head. This is a familiar position. It feels safe. Secure. Which makes you laugh softly. 

“Porque ríes, amor?”

“It's just…if I ever let myself imagine what it would feel like to be in a relationship…it felt like this.” You pull back slowly to look at him, your hand tracing the side of his face down to rest on his shoulder as your other moves a lock of hair back from his forehead. “From the moment I met you you've made me feel safe. I moved to Madrid with my life in chaos. My parents and my brother were gone all in the space of a few months and I didn't know where to turn or what to do. I had support but I never felt secure. So I hit restart. I moved. I settled. Then I met you. And knowing you were just across the hall or a phone call away at the start was like being able to switch off for a minute.” You smile at him and he smiles back, his eyes never leaving yours. “Then when we got closer, knowing I could come to you whenever wherever. That you were there no matter what? Carlos, that felt like everything. So when I started to feel more, for the first time ever, I dismissed it. Told myself that of course I’d fall for you. Who wouldn't fall for a smart, caring, intelligent man who was supportive but also made sure to push me when I needed it. Never mind you also being ridiculously good looking.” You can feel your face on fire but you don't stop. Carlos asks for nothing but honesty. That's all he has asked from the very beginning. So you continue. “I don't know what love feels like as I have no baseline to work from but I think I might feel it for you. I know I want to say it. That I've wanted to tell you that I love you AND I'm in love with you. But I could never imagine anyone wanting me or loving me back. So I didn't.”

“Mi Vida, créeme.” 

“I will. I'm choosing to believe you. I'm choosing to let myself have this.”

“Gracias a Dios.” He breathes. “Voy a besarte ahora, mi amor, vale?”

“Vale. Pero…”

“¿Pero?”

“I don't know how Carlos. God that sounds so pathetic. I'm in my 30s and I have no idea how to kiss you. And if I'm honest…”

“Be. Honest.” His voice is rougher than before. 

You take another deep breath. “I’d ask for more than a kiss.”

“Joder. No me digas cosas así nena.”

“You said be honest. And if I'm taking the plunge I might as well jump from the highest point right?” 

“You’re telling me that you want more than a kiss?” The rough depth of his voice makes you clench and shiver. 

“Yes Carlos. I'm telling you I want more. I don't know how to do it. But I want it.”“Querida, no te preocupes.”. He holds your face in his hands again. You can feel yourself shaking as you stare into his eyes. “I will teach you everything.” You feel your heart skip at his words and he closes the distance between you.

[incandescentflower]

hi! I stumbled upon your works in the karan/achi tag on ao3 and saw the challenge you were doing. Can I kindly request a karanachi fic with the prompt ‘wake up kisses’ and ‘hugging and gently holding the other’s head’ 🥹 thank you so much in advance 🫶

Hey there anon! Thank you for this ask! These have been taking me a few days as I have been catching up with them. Thanks for your patience.

After the last episode, I am in the mood to give Karan all the things he wants, so here's some good morning snuggles and an ode to my man Karan the most crazy cakes man in love. May he get to be as silly and over the top as he wants to when he finally gets his man.

I hope you enjoy it!

This is part of a Cherry Magic Thailand fic ask game I'm playing while the show airs. Send me a prompt from one of the lists and I'll write you a ficlet! Details are in this post.

I'm caught up in the requests for now, but I'm happy to take more. I'll just likely be pacing them out as I work on some other projects.

This is also on AO3 here. The other prompt ficlets in this series are here.

five more minutes

Karan knew he should get more sleep, but his body wouldn’t let him. If he fell asleep, it was only for a few hours before he woke up, his mind racing as he was brought back to the reality laid before him - Achi in bed next to him. 

That intense feeling of butterflies, of all the possibilities, of finally, finally getting something you had imagined for so long - it wasn’t really the best conditions for sleeping. If you added to that the way Karan’s body reacted to Achi being this physically close, he wasn’t likely to get a good night’s sleep for a while yet. 

But that was fine by Karan. He would function on little to no sleep if that meant this continued. 

Somehow Achi didn’t seem to have the same problem. He appeared to be sleeping soundly every time Karan woke. His breathing was slow. His eyes shifted under his lids as if he was dreaming. He moved in his sleep sometimes, but he often ended up back where he started, with his head on Karan’s shoulder. 

You would hear no complaints from Karan. He loved that Achi was comfortable here. He looked so peaceful as he slept. Not to mention, it was an indulgence for Karan to get to look at him like this as much as he wanted. 

If Achi was awake, he would shy away from Karan’s gaze, maybe even hide. Achi still did not seem to know how beautiful he was in every possible way - in how he looked and in who he was. He didn’t seem to know that just looking at him made Karan feel like he was grounded to the earth and that all things were finally as they should be. 

And with Achi sleeping like this, Karan not only got to indulge in that feeling of rightness, but he got to admire Achi’s lashes, how long they were, how they fanned out towards his cheeks while his eyes were closed. He also got to discover new, tinier moles on Achi’s face -  a cluster on his chin and one very adorable one below the outside corner of his right eye. While Achi slept, Karan was able to memorize the curve of Achi’s top lip and indulge in the memory of how it had felt when his lips touched Karan’s mouth. 

Lying like this, with Achi in his arms, filled Karan with an unrestrained happiness he had never felt before.

No, he might never sleep well again.

Perhaps somehow psychically Achi could feel the weight of Karan’s attention even without his abilities because he started to stir. Karan’s immediate impulse was to close his eyes. He didn’t think Achi would appreciate waking up to being stared at, no matter how innocuous Karan had intended it.

What he didn’t expect was the feeling of Achi close, the press of his mouth to Karan’s lips, slow and sleep heavy. When Achi pulled away, Karan’s eyes shot open. 

Achi was holding himself over Karan, a bright smile on his face. It was truly the most gorgeous smile Karan had ever seen, the one that was meant for him. 

“Aha, I thought you were awake,” Achi said, with a satisfied smirk. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Karan said. He had an impulse to brush the strand of hair that had fallen on Achi’s forehead out of his face. It took him a moment to realize, Karan didn’t have to curb that impulse any longer. He could actually do it. 

He raised his fingers and trailed them through Achi’s hair. Achi made a little noise, like it felt good, so Karan continued to run his fingers through the wayward strands.

“You didn’t wake me, but I might go back to sleep if you keep doing that.”

“You can,” Karan said, eagerly. “You don’t have to get up yet.”

“Mmmm,” Achi said, letting his head lean into Karan’s hand. “Come here then,” he said. Achi slid down onto the bed again and slung his arm around Karan’s back, pulling him into Achi’s chest. Just Achi’s grasp on Karan like this, like he belonged to Achi enough that he could grab him and pull him close, made Karan foolishly happy. 

Achi gently cradled Karan’s head as he hugged him tightly. “Just five more minutes,” Achi mumbled. 

The way Achi was holding him now, Karan could hear Achi’s heartbeat. It was a slow, steady beat that pulled Karan into it. His own heart started to slow, syncing to Achi’s rhythm as he willed himself to relax into the comfort of being like this with Achi for a little longer. Even if it wasn’t exactly what the rest of his body might want. 

Karan wasn’t actually sure how long it was before Achi woke again, still looking sleep heavy. He couldn’t help but be the one to kiss Achi this time. It was meant to be sweet, to let him know it was finally time to wake up, but Achi let out a low noise into the kiss and gasped before he met Karan for another. Achi’s response simply dragged Karan into it, each kiss deepening, pulling them into each other, losing themselves in one another.

Karan could be happy just like this, being this close, kissing Achi as long as he was allowed. 

“We’re going to be late for work,” Achi said into Karan’s mouth as he pulled away an almost imperceptible amount. 

“Just five more minutes,” Karan asked, grasping Achi’s hips and pulling them to meet his own.

Achi gave a little noise of agreement and slid his thigh over Karan’s hip.

Karan was very pleased to discover that a lot could be accomplished in five minutes. 

Still, he made sure to set his alarm ten minutes early from then on.

[flowercrowngods]

written for @steddieas-shegoes as a follow-up to this "can you read the letter for me" post-breakup scene (@artaxlivs wrote a wonderful version over here for you to read!) cw: drug mention, OD mention

Steve's body doesn't quite feel like his own as he walks to the playground with his breath lodged firmly in his throat and his heart trying out an old beat that used to be familiar. It's struggling, though, and Steve tries not to think about it. The cold breeze of the night hits his face, making him shiver for more reasons than one.

He hasn't been to the playground for years now. It used to be their spot when they couldn't sleep, kept awake by nightmares and memories and the worst of scenarios. They would come here and sit on the swings, steal glances at each other and talk into the night air, pretending like the other wouldn't hear, and hoping that he would.

He first took Eddie's hand here, swinging as they were, and Eddie had chuckled through his tears, and then his smile hadn't left all night – nor did his hand.

Maybe it's a bad idea, meeting him here. After everything. But some part of him thinks that it might be what they need. If Eddie really is doing as badly as he said, if he really does need a break of several weeks, a tiny part in Steve (the part that would always put himself last as long as it means that the other person gets the tiniest bit of comfort) wants Eddie to have this.

Their little bubble. Or the memory of it at least.

Steve is shaking as he sits down on one of the swings, one of his hands wrapped around the cold chain, the other balled to a fist in the pocket of his jacket. He feels oddly tethered even as the world begins to sway this way and that, even as the breath lodged in his throat solidifies into a lump and he feels as though he's about to cry.

Maybe that, too, comes with the muscle memory of swinging.

He spends an odd second envisioning himself from twenty years ago, laughing and squealing with his friends as they tried to do a looping, and then jump right up into the sky above, see who got farthest.

It brings a smile to his face and a nostalgia to his heart that he hasn't felt in a while.

He feels like he hasn't felt anything in a while. And that he won't until Eddie will apologise. Until he will explain.

The steady squeak–squeak–squeak of the swing is almost eerie in the quiet of the night, but to Steve it brings a certain calm; a safety that he knows is treacherous, but he feels it tingling in his arms, because–

Eddie is there. Slow steps approaching, the gravel crunching underneath his feet that makes Steve want to look up, but, tightening his grip around the chain, he refuses.

I’m sorry for being too much and not enough at the same time.

He knows the letter by heart now, and he wants to see. He wants to see how much space Eddie will be ready to take now, how much he'll let himself be this time. It's unfair, he knows; Eddie's not fine, he should take a step towards him. And he is. He's here. He has agreed to meet with Eddie and hear him out. He has agreed to allow himself a chance at mending his own heart.

Steve feels so torn inside, in more ways than one, that he feels paralysed and petrified and frozen. Part of him wants nothing more than to leap up and take Eddie in his arms, tell him that they'll figure it out, that they can do it, that they can make it work. That second chances are just a thing that happen in life. That it doesn't have to be one and done.

That's another reason he won't look up. There are so many reasons.

"Hey," Eddie's voice cuts through his racing thoughts, though it sounds so gentle and fragile that Steve wonders if it's not Eddie who's been cut.

The steps have stopped, the gravel no longer crunching, and Steve can see a worn pair of Chuck Taylor's in his vision. Not Eddie's usual armour. It throws him off, makes him want to cry, makes him shiver in a way he can't blame on the breeze anymore.

"Thank you," he continues, sounding even more gentle, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut, no longer wanting to hear that voice, not when it sounds like that. So bare. So raw. So vulnerable. "Can I sit with you?"

Steve swallows hard, and doesn't have to consider at all. He nods. Gravel crunches again, then twin chains squeak, the old wood creaking and groaning a little above them, but Steve knows it'll hold. It always does. While Steve is gently swaying, one foot anchored to the ground, Eddie remains impossibly still.

Maybe they're both about to break.

After a while, Eddie speaks up again with the words that Steve has been longing to hear for four years. "I'm sorry."

They're not nearly as satisfying as he always hoped. The world is still broken.

"Okay," he rasps, not really knowing what he's supposed to say. What Eddie wants from this. What he wants from this. If either of them still have the right to want things.

"I had this speech prepared," Eddie continues, still entirely still aside from the way his voice wavers, his laugh a bit breathless and bitter at himself. "But... I didn't... I didn't think you'd come, to be honest."

"Funny," Steve says before he can stop himself, cutting off the rest before it can leave his mouth and make it worse than it is. Coming from the one who left.

"I'm sorry," Eddie says again, and Steve is already tired of it.

So he says nothing, and his silence seems to mute Eddie.

"What does it mean?" he asks eventually, still not daring to look over at the man who used to hold his heart in his hands and then threw it down the quarry before leaving town without another word for four years. But he can feel Eddie's eyes on him. "That you're sorry, what– what does that mean."

"It means that I..." Eddie starts and trails off, considering his words in a way that makes Steve wish he wouldn't.

Just tell me. Take up space. Be enough. Be too much. Just tell me.

"It means that I wish I hadn't left, but that I know I had to in order to find out that living without you is not living at all. It means that I know that I broke your heart and your soul and your future, maybe, for this need of mine to just... find out. To run away. To be someone I could choose to be. And, God, it wasn't worth it. None of it. And still it happened, still I did it, still I know that I just... I had to do it. Being the person I was then, it... I just. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this. None of it. And if I could, I would turn back time and just tell you. Or sleep it off. Get help, talk with Wayne, anything. Anything that wouldn't lose me the... That wouldn't lose me you. And I'm sorry."

When Eddie finishes, his voice is hoarse, and Steve can't look away any longer. He opens his eyes and prepares to meet Eddie's beside him even in the dark of night, but he finds that Eddie is looking up instead, towards the sky where the moon is busy painting a cloud in silver light as it moves to cover it incrementally, and Steve takes a second to look back down at Eddie and watch him for a second.

His hands are clenched around the swing's chain, and they're shaking a little – so minutely that Steve's not sure if he's imagining it at all, but he feels like he knows Eddie enough to know that he's shaking, too. That they're in this together still. His thick leather boots are replaced with the worn, dark red Chuck Taylor's, and he's wearing a pair of jeans that aren't ripped at the knees. His black denim jacket is plain, no pins, no patches, no rips or tears or any sign of Eddie.

It leaves Steve feeling bereft, untethered once more; and isn't that unfair. It's not fair for Eddie to come here looking like this, looking so open and plain and vulnerable – how is Steve supposed to talk to him now. To talk at him, knowing his words will only meet armour. Armour that will make Eddie leave again.

How is he supposed to say anything when Eddie might not leave again. Or when he never came back in the first place?

"What happened to you?" he asks, the apology forgotten at this need to know. This need to protect, even after all these years. This need to be Steve and Eddie. If only just for the duration of a question.

Beide him, Eddie huffs and looks away from the now covered moon, meeting Steve's gaze with those big brown eyes that look so much bigger now. So much... sadder.

"I've spent all my life knowing who I didn't want to be. Knowing what to be against. Knowing what to hate. And then I– Then I met you. And I got to be someone for myself, you know? You let me be that. And I didn't see, I never... I never quite saw that, Stevie. Because that sad, scared, angry teenager part of me still wanted to hate and rebel and to leave and to be someone. And it didn't matter who, what kinda person, just... Just someone. So I left, and I– God, I lost myself. That self that you brought out. That self that wanted a life full of, like, love, y'know? Not hate. Not anger. Not... Not battle vest, leather armour, sticking it to the Man. But when I realised, it was too late."

"When did you?"

Eddie breathes out heavily. "Last year? Friend of mine OD-ed. Lou. Found her in the hotel, just..."

He breaks off, and Steve can see him blinking away tears just as he blinks away tears of his own.

"I called the band in this, like, full-on panic attack. Told them it was over. Told them I didn't want this anymore. They– They talked me down, because they're great guys. Helped me through it. All of it. Jeff told me to send the letter. Said, 'If you wanna find yourself again, Ed, you gotta start where you last had it, and you gotta start sending the letters.' Best fucking guy I know."

Eddie is smiling through the tears, telling all of this like it's not worth telling at all – like they're not both crying silent tears at it.

Like Steve's not understanding what he's saying. You made me into someone I liked being. and I did write to you, I just never sent them.

"You wrote me letters?"

Eddie nods. "All the fucking time. Wanted you there with me. Stayed sober for you until I... Until I couldn't anymore, because I'd left you, and I left this fucking swing set, and I... God, I'm so sorry, Steve." Eddie is really crying now, hands covering his face, and it's not really a decision at all when Steve gets up to stand between his legs, wrapping his arms around Eddie's shoulders and letting him cry into his chest.

Eddie wraps around him almost instantly, and Steve holds him, running his hands through his hair, shushing him gently, just allowing Eddie to cry for as long as he needs.

And I got to be someone for myself, you know? You let me be that.

You let me be that.

"I'm sorry," Eddie repeats, over and over, and Steve finds himself saying, "It's okay, Eddie, it's okay. I forgive you."

They stay like that for a while. Until Eddie calms down enough to breathe normally again, and even longer still before Steve slowly, gently pulls away – ready to move back in and hold him some more. Even though he shouldn't. Maybe.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," he says at last. "And I'm glad you're taking a break. Glad you sent that letter, too."

"Mm-hmm, me too."

Silence settles between them once more as Steve finds his way back to his swing; and that's when he starts thinking again.

"When you left, I was devastated. And I couldn't even tell anyone, not even Robin. It's like... It's like when you left, you took away that part of me, y'know? I didn't know how to talk about you. The words were gone, or something. And then you... You wrote your songs. And it was double unfair, because not only you get to leave, you also got to talk about it? To, like, thousands of people? I never... I still– it's.... It's like I still don't know how to talk about it. About you. Or to you. There are things I wanna say, but... You said them all, I guess. You got to say them."

"Steve," Eddie breathes, and he sounds just as devastated as Steve feels. "I never meant to– I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"No?"

"No! No, you... No."

Their eyes meet again, and Steve swallows hard again. "Tell me."

"What?"

"What you were gonna say. What you want to say."

Eddie breathes deeply and lets it all out in one long breath. "You didn't deserve that," he says at last. "You deserve someone who treats you right. Someone who lets you be who you want to be, too, and who will bring you flowers, and who will buy you an Winnebago and get you everything you could ever wish for. You deserve someone who's not broken, someone who'll do anything for you because they realise that you're everything they could ever dream of and more."

Steve sighs and feels frustrated again, because Eddie still doesn't get it, Eddie still puts him on that pedestal and made him out of reach for himself to the point where he had to leave because Steve was already gone for him.

"Eddie," he says, and his heart breaks a little when the other man flinches a little at his sharp tone. "I don't ask for that, I would never ask for that, God. I just... I just want a simple, sometimes complicated, sometimes dramatic but ultimately worth it life. I want a– a boyfriend who will say weird shit sometimes because he's a fucking nerd, and who will discover things about himself when he's with me, and go to bed with that smile that tells me he's safe with me. And happy. I don't want anyone throwing away anything, I don't need anyone giving me everything, I just..." I just want you.

But the words don't quite make it past his lips, too much history forcing them shut. It's been four years.

"I don't want to make you into someone. I don't want the weight of that, the responsibility that one wrong look could make someone's entire life fall in on itself. I just..." I just want you.

And that's when he realises what he's always sort of known. That Eddie doesn't even need to ask for a second chance for Steve to hand it to him on a silver platter.

He stands again and comes between Eddie's legs again.

"I forgive you. But I want to talk. About all of this. Not just tonight, but every night. I want to know how I can help you, I want to start over, I want it to be right this time. I don't want you to ever run away again. I want you to talk to me, Eddie. And to take me with you next time you need to run. Because you don't get to run from me, okay? You don't– You don't get to do that, Eddie Munson."

Eddie looks up at him, the moonlight catching on the tears in his eyes, making them look even bigger, and Steve wishes he wouldn't look so small.

"You– But... But I'm so... broken." His hands flail a little, an aborted motion that shows nothing of his usual energy.

Steve's hands find his way to Eddie's cheeks if only to stop him from running away again.

"And I'm not gonna fix you. But I can hold you through it, and stay right where you need me to. That's what people do when–" He cuts himself off before he can say it.

But Eddie understands anyway if the way his eyes widen even more, welling up against the moonlight, is any indication at all.

"Still?"

Steve nods, his thumb stroking Eddie's cheek tenderly, wiping away the fresh tears. "Still. All you had to do was come back."

Eddie falls forward, then, and buries his face in Steve's stomach. It's not running away. It's quite the opposite, actually, and Steve holds him as long as he can.

The night is filled with many more tears as four years of anger and sadness and lostness finally find words to express them.

It's dawn when he says goodbye to Eddie at Wayne's new trailer, waving at the man drinking his coffee on the porch. Eddie holds Steve in a tight embrace for a whole minute before either of them are ready to let go, and only with the promise of Same place, same time tonight.

It's not a new beginning yet, but it's the closure they both need before the new beginning will happen in due time.

[frostironfudge]

Tenebrous - Loki (AU) - Chapter Three

Pairings: Vampire! Professor Loki x Fem!Reader

Characters: Loki, Thor, Fem OC, Reader

Warnings: anxiety attacks described, forced drug, angst, soul bonds mentioned, mutual pining, crying, slow burn?, vampires, previous OD mentioned, over-usage of binder by an OC (they/them), body dysmorphia discussed, vampire bite marks, swearing, blood, heart attack mentioned for secondary character, Minors DNI

Word Count: 4660

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

< Chapter Two || Chapter Four >

Main Masterlist || Fic Masterlist || My AO3

Chapter Three - Warnings Sent In Blood

Present.

Y/N lays in bed, the clock reads seven in the morning. Grey clouds outside represent the turmoil bubbling within her for falling off the wagon. Her phone buzzes, the hospital group informing her of the next posting in the wards for the coming two weeks.

Coursework hangs above her head, organisation never her strong suit.

Slow trickles of panic begin to set into her, everything slows down but her heart rate increases.

Loki’s soft pacing outside stops when he feels the edges panic manifesting in him. He leaps back into the tree, peering into her room.

Y/N’s hands are balled into fists, nails making soft crescents. Mind spiralling with several questions, self accusations. He used to help with these.

Loki worries, contemplating presenting himself.

Tears escape down her cheeks when she sits up, Loki’s heart breaks. She sobs, breathing becoming increasingly difficult with each heaved breath.

“Loki.” She calls out into seeming nothingness. Turning and pressing her face into the pillow, palm covering her mouth to not let anyone hear her breakdown.

He wants to answer her call, Loki digs his palm into the trunk of the tree.

The frayed edges of the bond tug harshly between them.

“Please, please, please, quiet.” Y/N brokenly pleads with her racing mind. She sinks further down into bed, clutching her pillow to her chest once more. No change in position helping.

“Five things you can see,” Loki whispers the technique they’ve tried.

“Five things you can see.” Y/N remembers.

Her eyes trail over her room.

“Loudly, baby, say it out loud.” Loki prompts knowing his voice won’t reach her.

“Cupboard, curtain,” Y/N’s gaze shifts to the window, “Tree tops, chair with old laundry,”

She contemplates saying laundry as the fifth, “Desk lamp.”

“Four things you can touch.” Loki says hearing her breathing evening out, slightly.

“Bed-sheet?” She mumbles, searching for more,

“It counts, Witchling. You can do it.”

“Planter,” she reaches out to touch the bedside plant, “Necklace,” she touches her jewellery.

“One more.” Loki’s hands twitch, wanting to hold her.

“Loki?” She cries again at his absence, pulling the drawer open, bringing out his scarf, “Scarf.”

“Well done, Darling.” Loki encourages from afar, his heart ripped open further.

Why did he have to leave?

“Be able to hear, three,” She pauses “Drizzle, rustling of leaves, light bulb.”

“Always quickest.” Loki smiles, her heart rate reduces further.

“Two to smell, two to smell,” She sniffles,

“Soil after rain.”

Loki closes his eyes, the patter of rain draws Y/N’s eyes outward, her senses filling with the soil’s scent after rain.

“Soil after rain.” Her soft voice carries through in affirmation.

Loki smiles as he hears her, slowly casting the illusion away.

“Lavender.” Their eyes move to the candle at the bedside.

One thing to taste remains.

Y/N sits up, taking out the emergency mini Nutella jar.

Loki smiles endearingly.

“Nutella.” She smiles taking a small bite.

Sixteen Months Ago.

Loki surveys the pub, she had yet to arrive. Thor set down the beer bottles. Smiling extremely happily. Loki rolled his eyes.

“Oh come now brother, I know you’re happy for me.” Thor elbows him. They sit at the bar top.

“I’m wondering who has the pleasure of being your buffoonery’s mate.” Loki adds with a smile taking a sip of his drink, “How did she feel, when you told her about your condition?” Loki sets down the glass tracing the condensation trickling downward.

“She told me to show her my fangs.”

Loki gives him a look, “Does she have a vampire kink?”

Thor laughs, “Amongst some others.”

The door to the pub opens. Thor does not need to look at her to know she is in his presence he can feel the excitement coursing through their bond.

His smile grows wider as she gets closer. Loki notes the scent of Pink Pepper and Bergamot. The latter shared by Thor.

However the soft scent of vanilla lightly carries through the air, she’s here.

His gaze fixes upon Y/N’s smiling face as she looks at Thor. Her smile does not falter as she takes in Loki’s presence.

“Baby! I missed you!” Loki hears but it is not Y/N’s voice. A shorter woman with blue streaks through her hair almost jumps into Thor’s arms.

Loki’s being floods with relief.

A look of confusion flashes across Y/N’s features.

Why does she feel relieved? Where did the nervousness upon seeing Loki sitting with Thor go?

Her eyes move to Loki, her pupils dilate.

He’s changed into a deep green jumper.

Both men stand up.

Loki wonders, are these friends you were to meet?

“Nia, this is my brother, and brother this is my Nia. This is Y/N, her best friend.” Thor introduces with a beaming grin.

Loki holds his hand out to Nia, who was looking at Thor.

“Pleased to meet you.” He tells her, Nia smiles her head resting against Thors chest.

“Likewise, he had a lot to say about you.” Nia grins. They shake hands.

“Good things I hope.” Loki’s gaze flickers to Y/N, nervousness bubbles between them again.

“If he told you good things about me then he told me good things about you.” Nia beams,

“Sorry we were late, Y/N here, was caught up with her favourite Professor.”

Nia grins devilishly, Y/N feels embarrassed as she looks away. A blush coating her cheeks.

“No worries, I’m sure she had good reason, hope your doubts were solved some Professors can be a little meh.” Thor assures.

Nia looks at Y/N, making sure she’s fine, she knew what transpired and sort of convinced her to come along to distract herself.

Y/N looks back at them with a smile, standing a little more straighter.

“Yes um, I just had to give him something I found that might be of his interest.” She explains, her gaze not lingering upon Loki.

“I didn’t catch your name?” Nia looks at the green eyed man who cannot help but steal glances at her best friend.

“Loki.” He answers, smiling at her.

“Oh, Y/N was with that professor he has the same name she can’t stop talking about how he—, oof!” Nia is cut off when Y/N hits her bag against her. Subtly.

The two share a look, Y/N nods her head towards Loki.

Nia’s eyes widen in realisation, “Holy shit.”

“Is everything alright?” Loki wants to know what has she been speaking about him but he knows better than to come off as too curious.

He catches onto the silent communication between the two women when they head towards their booth again.

Thor looks towards Loki, “Is this her?” voice barely above a whisper. Loki gives a curt nod in confirmation.

Nia slides inwards, making a puppy eyed face for Y/N to let Thor sit next to her. She looks towards Loki.

“I could take a chair if—,” He senses her hesitation.

“No, I’m comfortable. I just didn’t um expect to run into you, Sir.” She admits sliding into the booth.

“I didn’t expect it either. Seems as though we keep running into each other. Also no formalities, darling.” He gives her a smile and there is a fluttering of butterflies in her stomach.

“You both better keep your hands above the table.” Y/N warns the couple as Loki settles in next to her keeping enough space between them.

“So they wreak havoc at your home too?” Loki looks at her, Y/N nods.

“I’ve asked for noise cancelling headphones as a gift but I don’t think those would work either.” She laughs much to Nia’s annoyance.

“It was one time.” Nia defends raising her hands.

“More like eight.” Thor confirms as he places Nia’s drink and Y/N’s coke down. Then earning a playful hit to his bicep.

“I mean I think they did it in the library too.” Y/N teases Nia groans, “I told you that in confidence.”

“I think you told the entire attendance of the library that day in confidence.” She keeps the teasing tone light.

Loki looks mortified, “Brother, that was the two of you?”

Thor just sips on his beer and Nia sips on her Cosmopolitan. Deflecting the accusations.

Loki laughs, the crinkles by his eyes only adding to his beauty Y/N deems.

Those damn stars dance again within her chest and she can agree with them, he is beautiful.

Loki looks towards her as he feels the trickles of stars and adoration, the intensity of his eyes has her blush again.

If he could just stroke her cheek, or deepen that colour.

“So you two are brothers, brothers?” Nia looks between them, Y/N’s eyebrows furrow at the absurd question.

“I was adopted but yes we are brothers.” Loki explains, taking a sip of his beer.

Nia looks to Thor who nods his head.

Y/N’s confusion grows, as though a separate conversation takes place between the lines.

Loki looks at Y/N, “Would you like to have some other drink?” He feels the curiosity bloom and this conversation deserves to be within four walls, should they choose to tell her.

She shakes her head, “I um, I don’t drink.” A nervous chuckle escapes past her. Several people somehow judge someone for not wanting to drink alcohol.

“They do have a lovely selection of milkshakes, do you want one of those? I mean I get the appeal of coke but I wouldn’t mind a Nutella milkshake.” Loki intently looks at her, a sudden wave of pure emotion surges over him, tiny stars lighting up his heart. Y/N looks at him with adoration again.

“You might just become her ultimate favourite professor.” Nia interjects.

Loki still keeps his gaze on Y/N, “Why is that?”

“I um, I love Nutella.” She admits, sheepishly.

“Well then a Nutella Milkshake is warranted, I do need to be ultimate favourite.” Loki decides as he slides out of the booth.

“Thor I’d like another Cosmo, please?” Nia bats her eyelashes as if he wouldn’t do what she said.

“Coming right up my love.” Thor kisses her before he accompanies Loki.

Loki and Y/N feel the longing for a love.

The silver threads of the bond turn towards gold.

Present.

Loki’s senses fill with the scent of sterillium. Y/N helps the middle aged man walk in the corridor. Making sure to place her hand posteriorly a few inches away so he isn’t scared to walk.

“You can do it.” She encourages, he lets go of her hand, smiling when he walks independently. Loki admires her working. This is her element.

“Do you reckon I can climb the stairs today?” He questions her.

“Hmm, how about we try that for the second round of treatment? You have a dressing change right? I’ll clear it with the on call but I think we can work it out.” Y/N assures.

The man places his hand over his chest. The bandages feeling damp.

“You’re doing really well. I’ll check them once you lay down.” Y/N smiles when he does too.

“That boy, I think he wants to speak to you.” The man peers behind her.

Loki uses his speed to move behind the wall. Y/N looks in the direction, the corridor empty.

“Must be a helper or relative.” She shrugs as they walk back to the man’s room.

“What time will you return?” He asks, sighing when he finally returns to bed.

“3:30-ish.” Y/N placing the blanket over him, and connects leads back to the monitor.

His husband walks in, “Ah there she is! Physio extraordinaire.” He beams, “How is the old man?” Clark teases his husband.

“Not that old, Clark.” Miles grumbles.

“Hey this guy’s heart just got an upgrade, he’s younger than me.” Y/N defends as the couple laughs.

“We walked independently.” She then informs the remaining changes observed.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon.” Y/N smiles as she exits.

“Thank you.” They grin as she shuts the door.

“Now worries.”

Loki observes her neck, the marks healed the next day and no fresh ones are here. She is almost a week clean again.

His phone rings, the area now more crowded therefore blending in while following her isn’t suspicious.

“Hello?” Loki looks around for anything out of place.

“Professor Loki, I expect you’ve read the email?” Dean Lynch’s voice comes through.

“Email?” Loki quirks an eyebrow, Y/N pauses to speak to an Attending.

“Yes about the creatives fest week. We’ve decided to recruit your top students over the years to showcase their work and also work with you to come up with a story or piece to enter into the competition.” He completes.

“Yes, I believe the office has the list?” Loki stops upon reaching the Physiotherapy Department.

“Yes and we will be shortlisting one candidate for the work, do you have a preference?” The Dean questions.

“No, you may decide for me, I do not want to he biased, I’ve had several talented students in the literature programme and it would be wrong for me to chose.”

“Well then, I will get back to you with a decision. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” Loki keeps his phone away.

Focusing his hearing into the department.

“How are you coping?” He hears her voice, a calm diffuses across his chest.

“I’m getting there, the binder hurts though.” A softer voice shifts, Loki can catch the velcro’s tug.

“Are you working up as we agreed, Emery?” She sounds stern.

“Yesterday I tried sleeping in it.” They admit, sniffling.

“Oh Emery.” Y/N hugs them,

“I just, I don’t look right.” They hold onto her tighter.

“I know you won’t believe me when I say you look absolutely lovely. Hell sometimes I don’t believe positive words for myself. You’re doing the best you can. You aren’t alone and it takes time to adjust.”

Emery nods.

“What if, the binder is not right for me? I just I don’t want to do something wrong so many blogs and influencers they just…,” Emery trails off.

“Hey, look at me.”

They look back at her, “Your journey is different. You may not prefer binders now, maybe you could use them later on, the timeline is different for everyone. You know Mr. Clark?”

Emery nods, “Of the cute ICU couple everyone is going on about?”

“Yeah, Mr. Clark may have some experience with binders, he was very open in discussing about them, he said if I have any questions or knew anyone who did I could ask them to meet him, he loves helping people, so I think when you're comfortable to speak to him, you should.” Y/N smiles when Emery nods understandingly.

"I think, I will, could you take his contact details for me? You can tell them its a friend using a binder who needs to ask a few things..." They exhale and give a small smile filled with determination.

“Also you don’t have to accept my words today, just know you can take time with it, I know wanting to be your true self is needed but you cannot harm yourself in the process.”

“I just, it has been so difficult at home, thank you for listening, I’m, I’m going to take it off, will you stay outside the changing room?” Emery wipes their tears, she nods, they hold hands making their way to the changing room.

Familiar footsteps make Loki look up, an old friend, Doctor Strange.

“My, my, have we returned from sabbatical?” Strange pats Loki’s shoulder.

“Yes.” Loki’s eyes shift to the door.

“Have you met her yet?” Stephen enquires, Loki shakes his head.

“How is she?” He looks at Stephen, “Be honest please.”

Stephen runs a hand through his hair before answering, “I’ve got to tell you, she wasn’t in the best of conditions. Took so long for her to come back to peak performance. I kept her in documentation post her entire OD, we’ve kept it on the down low.”

“Is she going to NA?”

“We’ve tried, she does. She missed one night during her relapse.” Stephen looks remorseful.

Loki sighs.

“Do you think, someone is compelling her?” Stephen knows it is a reach.

“Bite marks Stephen, despite my mark.” Loki looks distraught.

“Your scent isn’t evident when she is inebriated.” Stephen explains, “Therefore the aversion diminishes to a great extent. However I’ve heard of others who get the thrill of drinking from another’s mate.”

Loki’s grip on the side railing tightens. Leaving indents.

“Excuse me, um Doctor Strange? I hope I’m not interrupting…” Y/N’s voice comes from the door, Loki stays still, praying she doesn’t realise it is him.

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N? Please head to my office.”

He looks back at Loki, “I’ll speak with you later.” Stephen pats his shoulder again then walks into the department as she begins updating him on the patients seen today.

Seventeen Months Ago.

“We will be discussing Emily Dickinson’s, Because I Could Not stop For Death.” Loki announces, the scraping of pens and pencils across the papers fills the room.

“What is the theme you all find most drawing out from this poem?” Loki looks around the students as they contemplate answers.

His gaze settles on Y/N, she hadn’t yet spoken in class. Though her two assignments spoke of her understanding and talent.

A few hands were raised.

Loki gestured to the first student.

“Yes Mr. Davis.” He stands, Loki gestures for him to sit and answer.

“Well, Professor, the theme of death is what jumps out, the inevitable that from the moment we are born we head towards death, it also speaks of a calm death, not violent, as though passing through the stages.”

“Very astute, anyone else, Ms. Lopez you raised your hand, yes?” Loki gives an encouraging smile.

“I had the same thought Professor.” She smiles, Loki nods looking around for more volunteers.

He feels hesitancy and then he hears a small, here goes nothing and Y/N’s hand shakily rises.

“Ah, yes Ms. Y/N.” Loki grins widely and it takes her by surprise.

“Well um, Sir, there is also immortality with her, and death in the carriage but it, it is silent. A spectator of sorts, though in the poet’s case it might have to do with the immortal afterlife, I suppose.” She pauses her heart beats erratically.

“And what do you make of it? Immortality?” Loki moves from the podium to the centre floor.

“Well Immortality is something several people crave… I mean if I could be immortal I’d finally be able to read all the books I want to.” Y/N jokes, garnering laughs from everyone.

He chuckles, “What if I told you immortality is overrated?” He looks at her intently, as he leans against the empty desk.

“Maybe, you haven’t found something worth immortality then, Sir.” Y/N answers after a moment of contemplation.

“And what is worth being immortal?”

Everyone else ceases away from view, only Loki and Y/N exist.

“Love?” She answers hesitantly.

“You don’t seem so sure.” He has a teasing grin on his face.

“If you’re asking me, you don’t know the answer either, Sir.” Y/N doesn’t understand where the slight cockiness came from.

“What if I say you might be right?” Loki raises an eyebrow, “What if you ask for immortality, you get it but the lover has a sure death?” He waits for an answer.

“Then I would use my immortality to find a way. If love is the reason then…” Y/N trails off.

“Would the lover agree for Immortality?”

Something about the intensity in the green eyes of Loki cause her breath to hitch, as though these aren’t hypothetical questions.

Uncertainty laces through the developing bond.

The remaining class returns to view.

Loki sighs, “I apologise, I tend to find these discussions intriguing.” Loki turns to walk back to the podium.

“If, if they share the same love, I do not see why one would say no to that, love, power they make one selfish, immortality is a power to extend that love.” She completes as he walks away.

He turns, the small smile gracing Loki’s features let her know he agrees with her statement.

The silver threads begin moving over each other. He knows there is a bond forming, he knows he has to come clean sooner or later.

Loki can feel her proudness at being vocal in class within him much clearer.

Y/N feels another sense of pride within her, more stronger than her own.

Loki begins reciting the poem, annotating after each paragraph.

Choosing later as he watches Y/N take down her notes with a small smile.

Present.

Email From: Dean’s Desk - The College of Literary Studies

Dear Ms. Y/L/N,

Your exemplary work during your creative writing course shows extreme promise.

We would like to invite you to participate in our Creatives Week Programme.

We do have a competition for earning the publication prize, the theme is ‘haunting’.

Please send across your submission for the same by the end of this week, we will announce the result a week after the submission date.

The outcome does not reflect upon your confirmed spot for showcase.

Best Regards,

Dean Lynch.

Y/N stares at the email for several minutes. Stuck near the department.

Loki wonders what has her unmoving as he watches from the opposite end of the hallway.

She forwards the email to Nia adding a line of should she participate even though her mind is already coming up with lines to write possibly.

Loki follows as she makes her way through the list of patients as she did in the morning. There is a pep in her step as she feels better and proud of her patients as they progress.

Y/N feels a tug from the familiar bond, she furrows her eyebrows. Turning around, Loki moves behind the wall.

It keeps tugging as she retraces every hiding spot that Loki tries. The frayed edges desperately trying to reunite them.

Loki sighs knowing his has to move away before the bond compels them to meet.

“Hey Y/N,” She turns to look at Abraham, one of the co-ordinators for the ward.

“Hey Abe, new referral?” She takes out her phone to notify the group.

“Yes, room 324, Mrs. Jefferson, file is in billing, they want a Home Exercise Programme.” He informs, “I’ve billed one session to them so don’t worry about that.” He smiles before leaving.

She texts the information to the group before making her way to the third floor, last patient of the day then she can finally relax in her own bed.

Loki remains on the second floor, near the staircase following her footsteps with his hearing.

Y/N knocks on the door, “Hello I am from the Physiotherapy Department, I understand there is a request.”

She waits for an answer or sound from inside.

A minute passes and nothing.

“Ma’am?” She knocks on the door harder, handle unmoving and the door locked.

Y/N knocks again then decides to rush to the nurse station as she turns the lock clicks and the door opens two inches, the room dimly lit, blinds seem to be drawn.

“Is everything alright?” Y/N questions.

“Yes dear, just napping that is all.” Mrs. Jefferson calls out.

Y/N enters, pushing the door, “Please do not lock the doors Ma’am—,” the minute she crosses the threshold her mouth is covered by a hand, she thrashes against the restraints on her hands and legs, being pinned down in a swift motion. Darkness shrouds Y/N's vision.

-- -- -- --

Loki looks into his phone, wanting to reconfirm with Stephen since no one was responding to her. He hears the lock click but somehow he isn’t satisfied.

Stephen picks up,

“Did you check 324?” Loki questions immediately.

There is a click of the mouse and tapping of keys.

“Loki get to the goddamn room, there is no patient.”

A dull feeling of helplessness takes over Loki.

-- -- -- --

The hand on her mouth moves but is quickly placed onto her jaw.

“You taste much better this way, sweetheart. We have to be quick. Your little meddling mate might just turn up. Now, Now, let it melt,”

The pill melts onto her tongue, Y/N quietly sobs agains the palm over her lips.

“Please no, I’ve, I’ve..” She mumbles helplessly.

“You won’t remember a thing, I promise.” A cold tongue traces over her neck.

Fangs scraping across her skin smirking at the pulse thudding beneath her skin.

“Smell much more exquisite.” The voice praises, Y/N looks away, her mind focusing on the frayed bond, Loki, Loki, Loki.

-- -- -- --

Loki’s eyes widen, Y/N’s pain reverberates within him. in a swift motion he’s outside the door turning the knob. Y/N lays shaking on the floor holding a hand to her neck.

“I d-didn’t; I didn’t, he-he forced it,” She curls up crying. Loki smells it then, the blood, the drug altering her scent. he kneels next to her, taking her head into his lap.

“I know, I know, Y/N, I know you didn’t want to, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. it’s okay, you’re safe.” He brushes her hair away, looking at the bite marks, the rough edges indicate they didn’t completed the feed nor did they attacker seal the wound.

Stephen stands behind Loki. his gaze lands onto the wall above Y/N.

“Loki, the wall…” Stephen now realises this extends beyond Loki leaving for six months.

‘Your mate she tastes much sweeter,

so much better without your scents of cedar,

I know you marked her selfishly,

But I love drinking from her truly.’

“it is written in her blood.” Stephen concludes, kneeling down next to them, he takes her palm in his, checking for anything other than the drugs in her system.

“do you want to give her your blood?” Stephen looks at him.

“she won’t take it.” Loki sighs, as she looks up at him.

“Loki?” Her eyes glaze over with more tears.

“I’m here, I’m here.” he affirms, placing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“stars.” she mumbles

“I can take off the drugs effect, but the compulsion if any, that—,”

“I didn’t, I didn’t want to take them, doctor strange, you have to you have to believe me please I—,”

“hey, hey, I know I know, we’ll get you cleaned up, we’ll get you home.” Loki cradles her face between his hands.

“not, not ho-home.”

“Loki, she’s ebbing towards a panic attack.” Strange informs.

“can you offset it?” Loki looks at him.

“will you give her the blood?” He raises an eyebrow.

“you know what will happen if I do.”

Y/N’s breath catches in her throat. her eyes unfocused from Loki’s face, she raises her hand to touch his cheek.

“Stephen.” Loki bellows hears the slowing of her heart.

“Loki you need to give her the blood.” Strange places his palms on her sternum, hands begin emitting a soft glow.

“I can’t—,” “do it.” Y/N’s voice barely a whisper cuts him off.

they shift, Loki sitting against the wall, Y/N in his arms, supported by his chest, Stephen’s hands still keeping her heart going.

Loki bites into his wrist, placing it at her lips.

her lips close around the bite marks, a soft whimper as the blood touches her tongue.

“you need to suck it out as well.” Strange looks up.

Loki’s lips latch onto her neck, her grip on his hand tightens. her blood tasting different.

“just a little more, you’re doing so well.” He encourages pulling away momentarily.

Stephen nods in agreement, “about a minute more.” he deems fit.

“that is it, darling.” Loki feels her relax against him, he can feel a slight buzz akin to alcohol.

“scent is back to mixing with yours, I can perceive she’s taken.”

Loki shakes his head nodding, “her blood gives an effect close to alcohol?”

“I’ll look into it.”

“after how long has she shared blood with you?”

“this is the first time she’s had it.”

“how did the bond form earlier then?” Stephen’s expression is shocked to say the least.

“brother.” Thor steps into the room, “I came as soon as Strange messaged.”

“the three of us, and the two of them need to discuss a few things.” Loki announces, cradling Y/N closer to him.

Stephen, tilts his head to the wall, Thor’s eyes scan the text, his fists clench.

Y/N slips into a slumber, Loki, runs his lips over the bite marks, as they begin to heal.

the frayed edges of their bond begin healing the threads turn from a decaying black towards a glowing bronze.

-x-x-x-x-

A.N. would anyone be interested in some artwork i've come up with for the story? its small drawings of things i can draw to express how the bonds look to the soulmates. hope you enjoy reading!

taglist open! just comment below to be added!

tagging: @anemois-hiraeth @stevesmewmew

[honestlyhappyharry]

Chapter 10

The Storm

Chapter 9

Something on Tuesday morning felt off. Harry had stayed over again, much to your delight. He didn't want to overstep the boundary lines but everything was falling into place between the two of you, it was like you had gone back to your old relationship. Warm and cozy was all you could feel.

But that morning was cold. Harry's side of the bed was cold, at only 6:30. While he'd not stayed over much you still felt like it was out of character.

You tried to push it out of your head and got out of bed to pack Lily's lunch for Pre K before making her breakfast.

At the bottom of the stairs, you peeked into the lounge to see Harry hunched over on the couch, phone in hand. "Are you okay?" He popped his head up and just started, blankly.

He was a lot different from his usual morning clinginess when he wrapped himself around you, not letting you get up.

"Get out your phone," Harry told you, the tone of his voice made you do it quickly. His tone wasn't mad but upset or a little hurt. You quickly pulled out your phone from your pyjama shorts and waited for his instruction. "Go on Twitter." That sent your head racing, Twitter had always been a wild place of quick-spreading news and all you could think about was what was written about you and Harry.

Lily never crossed your mind.

Harry watched you for a few minutes while you looked through the stream of tweets. "Oh, shit." Finally, you snapped up to meet Harry's eyes again. "This is really, really bad."

"I know," Harry stated, patting the seat next to him so you sat down beside him. "It started with an article on the Daily Mail with a photo of me and Lily from last night, you know when I was carrying her to the car?" You nodded at that. "I didn't even realise anyone was there and I think it was posted after we went to bed. Then, like most things about me, it blew right up on Twitter this morning in the UK before it was morning over here. Pretty much the whole world was tweeting about it before we woke up."

"It would be good if your fans slept." You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled a little. "It's the top trending hashtag. The press is going insane and management have flipped out. I'm not even sure what the fans are thinking, maybe mad or confused or even happy."

Harry dropped his head into his hands and left his phone on the couch beside him. It was still unlocked and you could see more tweets flooding in. If you spent the whole day reading the tweets that were already tweeted, you wouldn't finish reading them for the whole day.

Something like the was bound to happen, Lily looked exactly like Harry so it wasn't hard to put two and two together, but you thought you'd have a few more months. Especially last night because you hadn't seen anyone who even looked interested in who Harry was.

"I'm really sorry, Haz. I know that was not how you wanted it to come out and it's not how I wanted it to come out either." You told him as you wrapped your arms around him, desperately trying to console him.

"I have to do an interview on Wednesday, you know, trying to explain it all. Until then please promise me something." Harry informed you and you nodded, anything he wanted you would agree to. "Please don't look at Twitter until it's all sorted. Or Instagram." He told you and you nodded in agreement.

"Okay, but you're also on a ban." You told him, knowing people would be saying worse about you but you hardly wanted him to see all the bad things that were being said about him.

"I promise." He agreed, before getting up. "I should go, though, got lots of music stuff to do." He told you as he walked to the door, you followed and waited for him to put his shoes on.

"I'll miss you." You told him before he spun around. His hands were instantly on your waist, yours moving to his chest. He kissed your lips for a few seconds, giving you the same electric feeling you always get around him.

He smiled once he pulled away. "I'll miss you more, baby. And I'll call you later." He left you standing there, wondering how wrong it was all about to get.

~

You woke up on Wednesday, hoping that it was all a bad dream. The worry was almost as bad as Monday. It was made worse by the fact Harry wasn't there. However, the little voice jumping on your bed urged you to get up.

"Mummy, mummy, get up." Lily cheered as she jumped on your bed making you sigh. Sleep-ins were a rarity in your house but no matter what you were grateful to get up to the little girl.

Rolling over to face her you opened your arms so she could fall into them. You placed a kiss on her head and inhaled her smell, it was something you never wanted to forget.

"Are you excited to get your nails done?" You ask her and she nodded quickly. She had been talking about it since you told her what was happening.

"I'm getting pink, remember." She told you excitedly, it wasn't her favourite, yellow was but she was decided.

After breakfast and you both got changed, Lily was in the car with you as you drove to the nail salon. Your nerves were getting worse as you got closer but you arrived 7 minutes early, also 7 minutes before Harry's interview. Thankfully a radio interview limited the face to face contact Harry could have with an interviewer. However, it was live which meant no editing.

"Gem!" Lily said as she saw Gemma. You could tell from dinner that they had clicked. Lily loved listening to her tease Harry and their personalities were a lot alike.

"Lily!" Gemma replied as she picked her up and hugged her. They really looked a lot alike and the few baby photos you could remember of her as a child rendered them identical.

They hugged and you gave Anne a hug. "I'm so sorry about what happened with the press." She whispered and you smiled at the fact that after so much time she still cared enough to say something. It was an ode to how close Harry and Anne were.

"It sucks, but Harry's interview is in a few minutes so hopefully it'll get cleared up." You told her and she nodded. You doubted it would but a little social media cleanse was nice.

Soon after you hugged Gemma who only said, "It'll be alright," to which you nodded, knowing, in the end, it would be.

There was a little bit of resentment towards the press because you wanted to be able to tell the world on your terms.

The nail bar was nice, modern and sleek. Unlike Lily's bold neon pink, you went for a plain white which you figured looked best with summer outfits. Summer was a very exciting idea, having all that time to spend with Harry and Lily.

Once your nails were done Gemma and Anne insisted that you and Lily came with them to lunch, which you gratefully agreed to. It was an incredible feeling to be fitting back into their family after so long apart and you were thankful they were so accepting.

You could tell Anne was itching to talk to you, a more nervous silence falling over the atmosphere. As soon as you got to the restaurant and ordered Anne made Gemma take Lily to the park across the road to play. There was an odd mix of gratitude and fear you were feeling.

"Did you know the first night Harry told me that he had Lily, I was over at his place and I just started crying?" She started and you shook your head before she continued her story. "I was mad at him, so upset with the whole situation but I felt a lot of sympathy for you both. I wouldn't tell him this but you went through worse, raising her all alone which is why I was mad at Harry. I don't know all the details of your breakup but I feel for him when he was in that state." She continued while you nodded, out of all of her qualities she was so emotionally intelligent. "I wanted to talk to you, but he wouldn't let me."

"I know." You said, there was still the unresolved guilt you felt. Anne had an amazing granddaughter she hadn't met until a long time after your parents had met her. But thankfully Anne was much smarter than to be jealous. "I wish you guys had met her before now." She could tell it was the truth. "I even wish I stayed with Harry or went back to tell him or just anything that didn't lead to today."

Anne wasn't going to let you take the fall. "I've never blamed you for what you did. I still blame him for driving you away but I know how hard it was for him." It was nice to pour your heart out to someone who was so neutral despite hearing her son's grief for years.

"It's nice to have someone else to talk to about this." You smile over at her and she returns it.

"Mummy!" A small voice called and Lily came walking over, hand in hand with Gemma. They were both wearing the same famous Styles smirk.

"Hey, how was the park?" You asked her, just before your phone started ringing. Embarrassed, you pulled it out to put it on silent but your eyes glanced at the name.

Harry <3

You look around at everyone else. "It's Harry."

"Take it," Anne told you quickly. "It'll be important or he'd text." She definitely knew him very well. Gemma nodded, taking her seat next to Anne while Lily sat next to you and coloured her colouring book.

"Thanks." You smiled, answering the call as you walked away to somewhere quieter. "Hey." You spoke into the phone.

"Baby." Harry's low voice came over the phone, making a shiver come over your spine. "Did you hear my interview?" He's quick to ask.

By now you had pushed open the doors and you were standing outside. Thankfully the wind wasn't too cold on your skin. There was a little park bench near the restaurant where you sat, phone to your ear. "No, how did it go?"

"It was okay. They asked about Lils, obviously. How old she was, you know the general stuff." You could tell there was something off in his voice, something he wasn't telling you so you didn't reply until he spilt the beans. "Then there was some personal questions about what happened between me and you and why Lily was never known to anyone." He continued, getting quieter.

"Are you alright though?" Even if you didn't want to hear the answer, you had to ask.

"Yeah, I am. I think it's good the story has been set straight. It's going to be better now though and I'm excited to talk you all out without the paparazzi finding out." The air felt lighter, and if you could see yourself you'd see how much more relaxed you looked.

You nodded before realising he couldn't see you. "I mean they'll still probably going to write some terrible stories."

"Yes, and maybe don't go on social media or those celebrity gossip websites, my team is still saying they're still slamming me." His tone was an indicator he was hurt about it, which made you hurt because this whole situation was partly your fault.

"I'm sure they're slamming me too." You laugh, unreciprocated.

His pause was an acknowledgement of his agreement. "Don't want you to get upset, so please don't."

"I should go, we're having lunch." You tell him, thinking back to who you left inside.

"Yeah, how's it all going though?" He asked, still wanting to talk.

"It was really fun, we're had our nails done, we talked a bit and now we're at lunch."You tell him and you can almost see him nod.

"Ooo, anything about me?" He asked quickly, he seemed back to his normal self.

"Hmm, maybe. Is there anything else?" You asked him.

"Can I come over later? I don't really know how this works." He sighs, it made you giggle a little bit about his shyness.

You thought about it for a second before you replied. "I think it works like it used to when we didn't live together but we might as well have been." You confirmed, only imagining his smile.

"Right, so I come over, we have sex, go to sleep and then have some more sex." His crude comments made your eyes widen.

"Harry Edward Styles, I meant you can come over whenever you'd like but maybe I'll retract that." You smirked to yourself as you heard him sigh.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I should also go but don't forget who's name you'll be screaming tonight."

There was no point in trying to reprimand him now. "I'll see you later." You said as you ended the phone call. It made you feel warm inside, as cliché as it was, knowing you'd be the one he fell asleep next to made everything seem better.

You walked the few metres back into the restaurant and talk a seat down at the table. Quickly you realised how long you had been on the phone with Harry.

All Lily, Anne and Gemma looked up at you. "What happened?" Anne was quick to ask.

"He just wanted to talk to me about the I-N-T-E-R-V-I-E-W." You spelt out so Lily remained unaware of what was going on. Not that she seemed to be paying attention to what was going on, she was still colouring.

"Oh, did he say how it went?" Gemma pipped up. She was always curious, that was something you learnt when you dated Harry all those years ago and she was asking how everything was going. Not that you minded it.

You nodded. "He said it was good to get it all out but the media and fans are still in a bit of a frenzy so he's said no social media for me." You let out a sigh, being in mock frustration.

"He's very sweet when he's in love." Gemma didn't even realise the words she was saying until they came out, that was when your eyes widened.

"Gemma," Anne growled, stopping her from talking about how much Harry loved you with a disappointed head tilt. You found it hard to keep the thoughts from racing after that. Did Harry love you? Did you love him? Did his feeling from all those years come back? Had it been long enough?

You hoped the answer was 'yes' but your mind forced some rationalisation. When you first told Harry you loved him you had only been together for 2 months and you had almost been dating him for 3 now. Maybe it was more innocent now.

After what Gemma said, the conversation slowed down a bit but by the time lunch was over you were on top of the world. Everything finally felt like it had fallen into place.

[whatgaviiformes]

10. Music Makers - Part 1 / Scenes from Gordon’s Bedside

Chapter Summary:  Virgil and Gordon and music Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 You are Here

Chapter A/N: In honor of 10 chapters of this concept, the plan is to give you a hell of a chapter 10 with a few moments in time strung together. I decided to go ahead and share what I have with you instead of waiting. Once the chapter has been shared in full over tumblr, I will post the full piece at Ao3 and FF.net. It may or may not make sense to remain as chapter 10 or be it’s own thing. Do share if you have an opinion. :-) 

The title Music Makers comes from “Ode” by  Arthur O'Shaughnessy, and it is very lovely. Part 1 A/N:  Music Referenced: Einaudi’s “Primavera”  Spotify | Youtube

***

Music Makers - Part 1/6

“You missed the cherry blossoms.”

San Francisco wasn’t too unlike Denver in Spring, but while Denver had some beautiful display of cherry blossom trees over in Cherry Creek, the Northern California Cherry Blossom Festival was an event, the second largest outside of Japan coming in right behind the one in the nation’s Capital. Virgil remembered the trip they’d taken to Washington DC as a family, the spring he caught flowers buds in his hair.  The festival had seemed bigger than the one that took place in San Francisco the past two weekends, but then again, he had been just a small child at the time.

This time, his heart hadn’t been in it with John leaving and Gordon still not awake.  The slow rain of pink through his fingertips made him think his brother. Drifting. And he would not have gone in the first place if John hadn’t dragged him out of the hospital for a bit of fresh air…for his last few days on terra firma - John’s words, not Virgil’s.

“I don’t really want to leave right now,” John had said, silhouetted against the line of pink trees, stormy emerald eyes blinking against the glare of the sun.

“John,” Virgil had whispered, “you have to.” It wasn’t because John had no choice. There was always a choice, but the ISS was John’s dream, a once in a lifetime opportunity that he could only take up while under NASA’s employment. Once their project got off the ground, John Tracy would no longer be an astronaut. His work would be anonymous; he’d be invisible. They all would be.

Gordon would hate if he took that opportunity away. John needed to go to space.

Virgil knew his brother belonged above the mesosphere, that John’s veins were made of a particular brand of stardust that was quite potent in its call towards home. But it was to be John’s first time beyond the skies, and Virgil would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little fearful for his little brother rocketing through the atmosphere into the vacuum of space.

“Are you frightened?”

“Of what’s out there? No,” John had explained, a crushed petal falling from his grasp. “Of what I’m leaving down here – I’m terrified.”

April had turned into May all too quickly, yet ever so slowly at the same time. Scott had been called back to duty, and Alan back to school. John had returned to Houston for his last trainings before take-off. Virgil had missed his graduation ceremony.

Gordon remained motionless, and the cherry blossom trees had lost their vibrant colors.  

“You would’ve liked them,” Virgil says, but there’s no response from the figure on the bed.  “John would’ve been able to give you the scientific name. Uhh… here, let me try to find…” He slips his hand out from under Gordon’s to type the search in his phone.

“Oh, gee, there’s a lot. Prune-us Sair-ah-sus,” he says finally, pocketing the device. “I probably butchered that. I was never good at Latin.”

He picks up the hand again.

“Do you remember when Mom dragged you along to my first piano recital? Probably not. You would’ve been just three or four at the time, and Alan wasn’t born yet. I had never played in front of an audience before and so I practiced for months beforehand. It was Einaudi’s Primavera.”

He hums a portion of the tune, sinking back into the memory of being eight.

“Mom probably hated hearing it after the first week.” For just a beat, he lets himself chuckle thinking of their mother dealing with his earnest younger self. “Dad had gotten me my first suit for the recital, and Mom helped me with my hair so I could look like a professional. I’m sure we have pictures somewhere.”

Virgil pauses a moment, smiling as he remembers the rest of the story.

“You always said you liked my playing, but you wouldn’t know it from that day! You screamed and screamed, and Dad had to take you out of the auditorium while you fussed. I remember trying to look out into the audience, but I couldn’t see through the lights. But it was just Scotty, John, and Mom who met me after my performance, and I just knew that you’d ruined my big day.”

Virgil notices that a small sliver of light shines through the windowpanes to dance along a strand of red in Gordon’s hair.

Gordon in his purest form was joy – a laugh to accompany a joke, a sparkle in the eye with a mischievous glint, an open ease in the way he walked and spoke, a smile when you need it most. Gordon’s soul was a reservoir of light that he could never quite fill to full. Because just as quickly as he soaked the rays of the sun into his being, he released them to share with the world around him.

When Gordon was born his hair had been an almost white blond– Alan’s had been the same way. But as Gordon grew, the blond darkened into gold the color of sunflowers in fall. In winter, when Gordon wasn’t spending 90% outside, hints of auburn would poke through.

He wonders if the auburn has the same sun soaking powers as the blond around it or if auburn is what happens when you make a ray of light sad.

“Apparently you told Dad that my song made you cry,” Virgil continues. “And that you needed to give me a hug so I would stop being sad.”

He sighs wistfully.

“It’s how I felt watching the cherry blossoms, Gordon. It was like seeing spring and knowing the beauty is still there, but not being able to reach it, like watching through frosted glass, and I understood why you cried.”

This time when he hums the melody his fingers flutter in movement and intermittently Virgil sings the melody, replacing notes with “da” before falling back into hums.

Virgil loses himself in the lonely music, in cherry blossoms through frosted glass, in green eyes looking longingly to the stars, in the flickering of a sun ray desperate to find a path to his brother’s light.

He knows how his piano reacts to his hands, the exact distance from the keys to his fingertips as they descend.

As the music ascends, his keys rise to meet him.

A twitch.

Tap.

Virgil’s music falters.

Tap… tap…

“Gordon?”   Like a dream, he watches fingers nudge his hand. His heart races as he meets his brother’s gaze. Honey eyes tell a story of confusion, blinking, searching. “Gordon!”

Tap.

“…ug.” The word is intelligible, but Virgil knows what it is by Gordon’s eyes.

Hug.

Virgil reacts.

[richincolor]

Guest Post: Finding Joy and Comfort in Picture Books: Celebrating Diversity with Teens

Today we welcome guest blogger Deborah K. Takahashi. She’s a librarian, author, YALSA blogger, and a youth mental health advocate. We appreciate hearing her ideas about the use of picture books with teens.

For high school educators and teen librarians, encouraging young people to read is an important aspect of the job. Whether it’s fiction, nonfiction, comics, or manga, reading sparks imagination, joy and provides a healthy outlet for young people to express themselves. Along with reading stories, interacting with the words and the story is just as important. During adolescence, teens have reached an incredible milestone in their development where 80% of their brain has fully developed.¹ Although their brain is mostly developed, the frontal lobes of their brains have not caught up with their physical development. While adolescence is difficult for young people, it’s an exciting time for educators, advocates, mentors, and librarians.

Since reading can be used in different ways, books, specifically picture books, are an incredible tool to build critical thinking skills. Although some teens will see this as “lame,” this activity  gives teens an opportunity to practice these skills that’s not intimidating. In fact, some teens may be delighted to re-read a book they read as a child. Given the current political, economic, and social climate, teens are not only living through a pandemic, they have been forced to adjust to a reality that has robbed them of valuable life moments and experiences that many adults have already experienced. In addition to the chaotic world they are growing up in,  teens are bombarded with a plague of misinformation via mainstream media and social media. As educators and librarians, not only is it part of the job to demonstrate critical thinking skills teens need to thrive, this important task can be done with a little creativity and fun.

One topic that teens have been hearing and seeing in the media is Diversity, which is a subject worth exploring using picture books. Again, some teens may roll their eyes at this activity, this is a great introduction to approaching texts with a critical eye while working with their peers. For this particular activity, provide groups with a picture book and ask them to read it aloud and break the story down in parts and ask them to identify the central problem of the story, discuss what issues led to the problem, and develop  solutions to solve the problem.  The best part of this activity is there is no right or wrong answer. With all readers, life experiences have a huge influence on how they interpret their world and problems that are presented to them.  More importantly, teens will have the opportunity to express their own opinions and, through respectful dialogue, come up with a consensus on what the author may be trying to convey to readers.  

With Diversity, this activity not only draws on the students’ individual experiences, it also allows teens to address their own bias and misconception of Diversity. Moreover, this activity will empower teens to talk about an issue that is important to them as they have grown up in a world surrounded by peers from different ethnicities, religions, identities, and abilities. By asking teens to look at the text with a critical eye, teens are able to discuss an important issue as recent events have conveyed the need for reforms in regards to Diversity. In addition, teens can also discuss another aspect of picture books, which are the illustrations as well. 

Here’s one fact worth mentioning to students: unless the author of the picture book is an illustrator, the author does NOT have the option to choose their illustrator. Interestingly enough, illustrators are selected by the publishers who purchase the manuscripts.  According to The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI), “The editor who purchases your picture book manuscript or the art director at that publishing house will ultimately choose the illustrator.” In other words, authors have no idea who will illustrate their book. This approach will encourage students to take a closer look at the illustrations to see if they match the author’s vision.

Here’s a list of questions for groups to think about and respond:

What does the term Diversity mean to you? Does this book do a good job representing the term “Diversity”

Why is it important to have diverse books? More importantly, why is it important to have diverse books for young children?

Is it important to have books featuring characters from different cultures? Why?

Compare the text and illustrations? Are there any similarities or differences?

Do you think the illustrator interpreted the author’s story well? If so, why or why not?

Did the illustrations impact the story in a meaningful way?

Did you identify with any of the characters? If so, how does it make you feel?

As you read the text, did you encounter any bias from the author or illustrator?

Did this book teach you anything about your own bias?

If there is one thing you took away from this book, what is it?

While this activity can be approached as a group, some of these questions may make students feel uncomfortable. Always preface that teens are welcome to share if they want; otherwise, encourage teens to write their responses down in a journal or notebook for them to look back on. While responses are important, the goal of this activity is for teens to engage in thoughtful and respectful dialogue. At the crux of this activity is the goal to encourage teens to think and express themselves in a meaningful way to develop other valuable skills such as empathy, compassion, and the courage to stand up against injustice. Even as an adult, picture books still provide me with so much joy because they produce simple, yet powerful messages. The same experience can also occur with teens.

Here is a list of topics and books that will elicit great conversation:

Mixed Race Americans:

Mixed Me by Taye Diggs and Illustrated by Shane W. Evans

One Family by George Shannon and Pictures by Blanca Gomez

Maisie’s Scrapbook by Samuel Nar and Illustrated by Jo-Loring Fisher

African Americans

Crown: An Ode to the Fresh Cut by Derrick Barnes and Illustrated by Gordon C. James

A Girl Like Me by Angela Johnson and Illustrated by Nina Crews

Show Way by Jacqueline Woodson and Illustrated by Hudson Talbot

Asian Americas

The Name Jar by Yangsook Choi

Eyes that Kiss in the Corners by Joanna Ho

Coolies by Yin and Illustrated by Chris Dentpiet

Latinx Americans

Islandborn by Junot DIaz and Illustrated by Leo Espinosa

My Papi Has a Motorcycle by Isabel Quintero and Illustrated by Zeke Pena

Alma and How She Got Her Name by Juan Martinez-Neal

Native American/Indigeouns Americans:

Thunderboy Jr. by Sherman Alexie and Illustrated by Yuyi Morales

A Day with Yayah by Nicola Campbell and Illustrated by Julie Flett

Fry Bread: A Native American Family Story by Kevin Noble Maillard¹Edwards, “Deciphering the Teenage Brain,” https://hms.harvard.edu/news/deciphering-teenage-brain

— Thank you again to Deborah K. Takahashi for sharing with us today.

Are there other picture books that you’d recommend for use with teens? Or if you’re a teen, are there picture books you’ve appreciated beyond childhood? 

[vinylhazza]

“that was embarrassing” and “it’s not funny”

I'm not sure if this was on the smut prompt list but this was so cute so I'm posting anyway. hope you like it! 

it was the last and final time you would ever go rollerskating with Grayson for as long as you lived.

not only had you made an ass out of yourself in front of all of his friends with jokes you were certain they would understand but most certainly didn’t, but you had just fallen so hard onto the slick wooden rink that you currently sat on a hard, cold bench watching the others twirling and spinning around to the music with a makeshift ice-pack pressed against your forehead (if you can call the cold cup that holds your Pepsi an ice-pack). something was better than nothing.

it was the hardest fall you’ve had since you could remember, the stars swirling behind your eyelids with every blink making it more than clear to you that you might even have a concussion. all you wanted was sleep. sleep and silence.

Grayson hadn’t been able to swing himself around fast enough to break your fall let alone stop the laughter ringing in your ears as soon as your knees bowed, the sound of you body hitting the ground fresh in your mind still. a harsh pang to your forehead was the one thing that still made you cringe from your place off the rink. it was mortifying to watch a girl no older than seven laughing at you as she wizzed by with ease, some ridiculous 2000′s pop song blaring over the speakers.

“it wasn’t that bad” Grayson had tried consoling you over and over in your ear as you made your way back to the side of the rink- trying your best to ignore the hoots and howls of his friends. he flipped them to bird with a scowl, but it didn't seem to make much difference as Collin raced by with a sly “nice one Peterson!”

“that was embarrassing,” you’d grumbled. you tried to ignore the sympathetic look he’d given you, only confirming that it was in fact” embarrassing.

warning off the tears moistening your eyes without your consent was harder than you’d thought. but falling in front of children and friends, and then crying about it was just not something you wanted to be a part of.

that had been thirty minutes ago. thirty minutes of miserable spinning and nausea. of course it was probably your own fault for pushing yourself out of you small box and trying something different for once. an ode to your clumsiness. you hated physical activity- no matter what aid the wheels could have given you and even if you had been holding Graysons hand for most of the night.

that part hadn’t been as challenging: clinging onto your boyfriends arm and laughing at your legs sliding across the floor similar to that of a baby deer with skates. there really wasn’t any difference, but he made your blush form from one of embarrassment, to flattery with every minute that passed.

all was well until he left you to fend for yourself, something that you were still trying to keep to yourself. yes you were hurt, but no you didn't need to take it out on him out of anger.

Grayson sat beside you still, an arm wrapped across your chest while you both leaned back against the white cinderblock wall behind you both. glancing up at the wooden shoe cubby made your stomach roll, prompting a bemused chuckle from the now yawning man holding you loosely against him.

“it’s not funny,” you grumble, shooting him a glare that wasted far too much energy, shuffling down to get closer to his warmth that always provided the most comfort when you weren’t feeling so good.

he merely looked down quickly with a shake of his head, lips pressed together to hide the grin, “of course it’s not. I was just laughing at Max still trying to seduce Trina. he just doesn't learn.”

nice save.

you looked out onto the rink lit up with flashing lights of every color, wondering what time it had to be and if the smaller than average establishment would be closing soon. you spot a wobbly looking Max across the way, trying (and slightly failing) to skate backwards next to Trina who now wore an annoyed scowl. if you were in better shape and a much better mood, you would say to hell with sitting on the bench hurt and save your mutual friend from the annoyance of the boy that just couldn’t take the hint. you would have thought after two years of failed attempts he would give it up and move on.

with a side eye at Grayson you know he must be thinking the same, but chose not to say anything further. that was a talk for another time. you make a mental note to have Grayson talk to max soon about his constant pestering to the poor girl that wanted nothing more than to “live her free life freely” as she had said so many times. you’re sure it’s just her nice way of saying no, but knew she was truly a free spirit and being tied down by someone as high maintenance as max wouldn't be the best idea.

but tonight, all your mind could think to long for was home. your big fuzzy blanket, Graysons flannel pj pants you’d claimed as your own, the oversized Harvard sweater your sister got for you as a gag gift for Christmas two years ago after getting your denial letter in the mail, Graysons hands rubbing the stress knots out of your shoulders, and a hot bath. you presumed you deserved a resting night after throwing yourself so far out of the box and then getting hurt from it.

the best thing about Grayson? he read you like a book.

“you ready to head out? I'll tell the boys I'll text them later, or do you want to try again?”

“I think trying again might not be the best idea,” you croak, removing the cup and revealing the goose egg bump on your forehead. you want to smack him when he cringes, but instead give him a small smile.

“yeah, killer, I think you’ve had enough,” he grins, leaning forward to press his lips on yours once, twice, then three times before he finally gets up to say his farewells to his friends, stretching as he does so.

you watch silently while he made his way around to everyone he could find, stopping next to Max to whisper something in his ear. when he pulled back, max looked ashamed, something that shouldn’t have given you as much pleasure as it did. serves him right for not listening.

-

“I'm proud of you for trying something new,” he mumbles once the both of you climb into his car, your water-down Pepsi long gone, the heat blasting to warm up your chilled fingertips.

you want to ignore him, not being one for praise or pity, but also thankful that he noticed your attempt at trying to have fun in more ways than just burying your head in a book. you know it made him happy to see you trying for him, and for that you would give him a real smile. one of content instead of anguish.

“I'm proud of you for finally having some fun,” you rebuttal, giving him the best ‘I'm okay’ smile that you could through the throbbing in your temples.  

his widened eyes and mock horror expression had you laughing harder than your headache agreed to, and you choke on that same laughter only a moment later.

“what exactly are you implying daisy?” he grumbled, turning the wheel to the right and backing out of the parking spot he squeezed himself into.

daisy. the best nickname anyone had ever given you.

“that you needed a break.”

“breaks are for the weak.”

“I think you mean smart gray,” you grab his hand without thinking, raising it to your lips with a soft glance over at the streetlight bouncing across the hazel of his irises, “you needed some friend time. Even if i ruined it with my stupid legs that don’t work and equally stupid jokes.”

“and you know what I think?”

“something dumb probably-” you fire before thinking, a joke of course. the pout he wore after was too hard to resist, your thumb finds his bottom lip without thinking to smooth them back with a fond smile.

“funny,” he smirked, “but I was going to say that you’re brave. You were very brave in letting people see you as you are and as you’ll always be, even if some of them didn’t get your jokes or loved you as much as i do.”

He said it softly, in a way that softened you to your core and sent a chill straight down your spine despite the hot air blasting from the vents. You fought the urge to curl in on yourself at the compliment, still not used to hearing such kind words even after all the time that you’ve been dating grayson who does nothing but compliment you and give you words of endearment. It was different, and sometimes scary.

“Hm i think you need some sleep,” is all you can bring yourself to say without sounding like a sappy hallmark card. You wanted to say more, something better than a witty remark - but could only allow yourself a small dose of something you’re not entirely sure how to handle. But you did know that you loved the way he looked over at you, noticing the high pitch of your voice and the way your hand seemed to squeeze his tighter. With a sigh of defeat he averts his eyes back to the orange tinted asphalt ahead, shaking his head with that same sheepish smile.  

“I’ve never been more awake.”

The silence that followed was serene. Something you both understood to be easy. You’ve never had easy.

For a moment you weren't the embarrassing girlfriend of a man much too kind for you.

For a moment you believed that something good might happen to people like you.

For a moment all the world was a warm car in winter, black ice car freshener, a frank sinatra song turned all the way down on three, and a thumb rubbing a pattern across your knuckles.

For a moment the world was good and it didn’t matter that the headache was full force, the streetlights too bright to your sensitive eyes, the car seeming to move in slow motion while the city whirred past your window.

For a moment all there was was eyes full of something other than amusement, something deeper, richer than you’d ever seen before.

For a moment you allowed your heart to thump out of rhythm in your chest, your head to fall against the headrest, your eyes to shut, and the rubbing of his thumb to lull you to sleep.

[depths-of-your-soul]

Okay so ummmmmm I wanna request something. (also glad you're open) Just wanna ask for like Midoriya trying to request to his crush (male if you can) But instead gets confessed by him. Like Midoriya was practicing his speech. But he instead got confessed by a rare merch of All might and some chocolates that say (will you date me and one chocolate says yes and the other says no)

Mission Failed Successfully

Pair: Izuku Midoriya x m!reader

Genre: Fluff, comedy?(i tried)

Summary: "Who would have thought that the one who called for the meeting would be the one who gets caught off guard? Well, I'd say that his mission failed successfully." :)

Notes: I actually have an older reauest that requires proper paragraphing and storytelling which would be difficult so I'm still trying to finish the draft of the whole summary before actually drafting the flow of the story. If the perosn who requested is reading this, please message me for any specifications you would like to add :')

If the final product comes out decently, I will post it, if not then I'm sorry ;-;

A day where all seemed to be normal. The familliar noise of the students chattering nonchalantly, the ringing od the bells which indicated the end of the school day and the crimson sunset which seemed to indicate the burning passion of students, be it relationships or their goals.

Where all seem to flow smoothly as water without a trace of a new event, two students have their hearts racing unbelievably fast. For their future is at stake, they must overcome this challenge. Though they know they cannot change the main factor for success, they still hope for the better outcome in this rare and precious occasion.

One of them, Izuku Midoriya, is a student so punctual one might say that he is a model student that every teacher would die for. He is the very definition of innocence, with not a single person doubting him to be naive to love. But for all what may seem to be obvious, is not always the truth. For the truth of the matter is that soon, he will meet the person he longs for.

For every word and every breath he takes brings him closer to the occasion.

"I-I like your hair! No- wait- I love you hair! No, no, no, no, no! Not hair!!! Ughh think, Izuku! They say that people tend to be more attracted to the confident personalities like All Might, Endeavour, All Might, Midnight, All Might.... A-And... Uhhh.... O-Oh, right!! My hair!! My hair should be either 3.14 or 22/7 cm long per strand with an angle of sin(180-60) or cot (90).... Wait! What about the fact that due to gravity, there are some that lack the ability to curl properly? What if it turns him off??? Ughh!! Would my freckles help increase my chances? Does he like cute guys??? I-I think I'm pretty c-cute myself... But what if he prefers Kaminari-san??? O-or that he is only into girls???" His mutterings and obliviousness forbid him from hearing the incoming footsteps of his beloved.

"T-That's it! I-I'll just say that I love him! Okay, I need to practice first..." And thus began his downfall.

With his eyes closed, fists clenched and face painted in cherry-red, he exclaimed,"I-I've always liked your hair!"

With that sentence, he felt something touch his face. A soft fabric material that resembled All Might appeared before his very eyes. Such an outcome forced him to lose balance and tunble towards the ground.

With his eyes fixed towards the person holfing the merchandise and a paper bag with a red ribbon, he gasped.

"Deku-kun! I've always liked you. I'm pretty sure you're not interested in these kind of stuff, and I'm not asking you to date me or anything because you would feel bad rejecting me... But I just wanted you to know how I feel about you. I like everything about you and I just thought you should know that..." The guy stood still, bowing low and eyes clenched to show his sincerity.

But none of those mattered right now for all Izuku heard were the words "always liked you". He wasted no time getting up and hugging the man of his dreams.

With tears falling from his eyes like a river with an unending source, he replied, "Me too... I've also liked you... Please date me, puppy"

With a mutual agreement, the challenge that they thought would be impossible to achieve was conquered. Though what seemed to be the final hurdle is merely just the tip of the iceberg.

Who would have thought that the one who called for the meeting would be the one who gets caught off guard? Well, I'd say that his mission failed successfully.

[lonelyheartsmotel]

hey grace!! like i said in the tags on my rb of that sleepover weekend post, i've pretty much been stuck in a ducktales/taylor swift entertainment cycle for Weeks so if you have any music/tv/book/etc recs i'd love to hear them <3

ahhhh for tv ive been very hyperfixated on what we do in the shadows but if you haven’t watched it already i highly recommend!! such a good comedy and great escape!

for music ive been enamoured with robert lester folsom’s album “ode to a rainy day,” an archive/collection of songs he recorded at home, and beck’s 2002 album “sea change,” as well as this playlist generally which includes songs from both albums and has been amazing for the british columbian rain lately: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21oJSGxu4mhCjIYJNgbVkk?si=vhMKNE8OTKKnmGl4G0sn_Q

for books, i recently read and annotated the novels interior chinatown by charles yu (very meta novel written in the form of a screenplay about a “generic asian man”) and how much of these hills is gold by c pam zhang (anti-western epic about migration, chinese and western mythology, family, race, & colonialism) for my thesis research, but i would have read them for pleasure anyway and i HIGHLY recommend they are such good books in different ways.

[thdorkmagnet]

The Princess and the Street Dog

Hello everyone!! So today I am posting a birthday gift for my dear amazing friend @kikithefox231​. She had an idea for a Lady and the Tramp AU and I fell in love with it! Of all her incredible AU’s this one might be my favorite, haha. She also offered to make a cover for it and gosh it just turned out adorable!! Thanks for that Kiki and Happy Birthday, dude! You deserve it!

 Star's life had always been perfect. Ever since she could remember she had been living the life of luxury. She had been adopted by a lovely family of humans known as Eclipsa and Globgor. They treated her with so much warmth and kindness that she never felt unloved. She could do basically whatever she wanted: sleep on the bed at their feet, eat half of Globgor’s morning donut, and she was even free to bark and chase around as many birds or squirrels as she wanted. 

Yep, life for Star was pretty good.

Loving with a silver spoon would do that to you. Sure there was a problem or two from time to time but nothing that ever threatened her lifestyle. The biggest hiccup had been when Globgore and Eclipsa had a 'baby' as they called it and suddenly the attention was shifted away from her. She was pretty upset and even a little jealous until she had actually seen little Meteora and her heart had melted. She fell in love with the baby and her tail was wagging so much the first time she saw her, it was a wonder it didn't break off. 

So yeah life for Star was good.

Except....

It wasn't. Lately Star has been craving more. She wanted to see more than the small fenced-in enclosure she called home. Sure she loved her home and owners and couldn't ask for better but at the same time... she wanted more! She knew there was stuff out there that she had never seen before and she would love a chance to see it someday. 

Of course it wasn't her fault she had started having these thoughts, they had been implanted into her brain by the wild street dog known as Marco. Ever since he started showing up, Star has begun desiring more from her life than the pampered existence she knew. He would come around to bother her and tell her stories about life outside of fences, about railroad tracks and garbage cans and fire hydrants. Star pretended not to care but inwardly, her curiosity was beyond peaked and she secretly loved whenever Marco appeared, something about him just drew her in and she couldn't quite explain it.

Not that she would ever let it show.

Star was thinking about him as she laid out of the grass, letting the bright sunlight soak into her warm fur. She had had a very busy morning, fetching the newspaper, burying the bone Eclipsa had given her, barking at a group of stray birds that wandered into her yard, the usual stuff and she was enjoying some well deserved rest. Of course she was also trying to show off the new pink bow her owners had tied around her ears, it looked great on her and she was happy to gain attention over it.

But then her peaceful morning was interrupted as she heard a distinct set of pawprints heading her way. She let out a groan, while her heartbeat began to pick up its pace again. There was only one animal in the world those pawsteps could belong to, Marco's brash, confident stride too distinct to be anyone else. 

Star felt her heartbeat racing against her chest and her tail began to wag against her will. She did her best to hide her joy though, pretending to be asleep. She didn't want to let him know the effect he had on her, even though she was practically shivering with anticipation.

She felt the tiniest of smiles form on her face as she heard the gate to her yard creak open. She didn't know why but she loved the fact that Marco was there to see her. That he came all this way specifically for her. Something about that caused goosebumps to appear under her fur. 

She listened as his paws padded on the soft grass getting closer and closer but she didn't dare risk looking. Maybe if he thought she was sleeping he would leave and honestly even though she wanted to see him, she didn't want the temptation that came with him. His wild, chaotic nature was hard to resist.

But her charade proved ineffective when a cocky voice said, "Hello princess."

Star let out a fake sigh, pretending to be annoyed by the nickname he had given her, instead of the intense feeling of joy that rushed through her. "Why do you always have the worst timing? Can't you see I'm in the middle of something."

Marco lay down in front of her, their faces so close their noses were nearly touching. "Funny, to my eye it looks like you're doing a whole lot of nothing," he said with an intoxicating smirk.

Star huffed, sticking her nose up in the air like her friend Ponyhead had taught her, saying in a superior tone, "For your information it's called a nap."

Marco wasn't at all affected by her power, rolling around some on the grass as he commented, "Wow, I knew you were pampered but I didn't realize the pet life made you so lazy."

Star couldn't stop the growl at the teasing insult, her cheeks puffing up in the cutest way. "I'm not lazy!" She argued, shooting the street dog an annoyed scowl. "For your information I had a very busy morning!"

"Doing what? Getting a pedicure?" Marco asked with a sly grin, clearly enjoying getting under the cocker spaniel's skin. 

"No that was the day before," Star replied without thinking. But upon realizing her mistake she flushed, knowing how the argument was just made invalid. The collie broke out into laughter and Star resisted every urge in her body that told her to hide her blushing face from his gaze. Instead she simply settled for looking away and pouting. 

"Whatever, it's not that bad," she muttered under her breath. In a louder voice though she asked in an annoyed huff, "Did you come all the way here just to insult me?"

"Nope," Marco said, finally recovering from his laughing fit, stretched out his limbs and back as he spoke. "Actually I was on my way to have some real fun and figured I'd invite you along." The dog crossed his paws in front of him before laying his head on top, giving the pampered pooch a knowing smirk. "But clearly you're too busy to come."

Star saw through the dog’s attempt to manipulate her, his hidden smug and wagging tail giving him away in a heartbeat. But Star was not so easily manipulated and so she kept a straight face as she replied, "That's right. So why don't you run along and let me nap in peace." She turned her back to him and laid down closing her eyes while listening closely to see if he would actually leave or not. 

But even this was not enough to shake Marco as he trotted around her, now facing her again. "Oh come on," he pressed bending down so that his face hovered a few inches from her own. "Don’t tell me you aren't curious? Where's your sense of adventure? Don't you want more out of life than being a pet! Don't you wanna see what a dog's life can really be?"

Star didn't know how to reply to that, because she was curious. She did want to see what life off of a leash was like. She knew she shouldn't but she did and that burning desire made her hesitate. Marco's offer was so intriguing, could she really pass up this chance?

Marco could see her will breaking and added in a hinting tone, "Come on, princess. You know you want to."

"But-But Eclipsa and Globgor," she quickly stammered, but the excuse was halfhearted and she knew it. 

“I’ll have you back before they even know you’re gone,” Marco promised, giving her a trusting smile, one that Star found impossible to resist, her curiosity and the street dog’s pressure pushing her over the edge. 

She let out a long, drawn-out sigh, before finally saying, “Okay, fine.” But she added quickly, “But only because it’ll get you to leave me alone.” 

It was clear Marco saw through her obvious lie due to his wide smirk but thankfully he kept whatever comment he had to himself as he simply replied, “Cool. Glad to hear I finally convinced you.” 

“Not like I had much choice,” Star muttered sourly, stretching out her limbs as she finally stood. She made sure to not let her smile show, her excitement at finally getting to see the outside world making her inwardly giddy. But she did not want Marco to see that. 

Marco chuckled to himself at Star’s pouting and told her smoothly, “Hey, I promise you’re gonna love it and a street dog’s ode is his life.”

“Really?” Star questioned, raising a teasing eyebrow. She allowed the dog to lead her over to the opened gate. 

“Oh yeah, just because we aren’t pampered head to toe doesn’t mean we don’t have standards, princess.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to see how true your ode is then, won’t we?” 

Marco gave her a confident grin over his shoulder, that caused Star’s cheeks to heat up. “Challenge accepted.” The two reached the gate and Marco waved a paw towards the exit, bowing his head low. “After you,” he said in what could almost pass for a sophisticated tone if Star didn’t notice the sarcasm dripping from his every inflection.

“Such a gentlemen,” she returned, playing along with his act as she trotted past him, keeping her head held high in a dignified manner. But she paused just a second as she reached the crosswalk, feeling anxious to take that final step into a world she didn’t know or understand. She didn’t pause for too long though, feeling Marco’s stare on her back, no doubt judging her hesitation and wanting to prove herself to the street dog she forced her paw onto the hard cement sidewalk. For some reason, Star’s body tensed up, her hair standing slightly on end as if she expected some disaster to happen the moment she left the safety of her yard. But nothing happened, the pair remained untouched and Star felt slightly embarrassed for the irrational panic. 

Marco grinned brightly at seeing the fussy dog finally stepping outside her comfort zone and his tail wagged happily as he watched her reluctantly standing on the sidewalk. He had been waiting for this moment for so long and he finally had convinced his crush to go on an adventure with him. He could see her start to rethink her decision though, indecision flashing in her eyes and he quickly said, “Come on, it’s this way.” And with that he headed off towards town, already coming up with the quickest route out of the fancy neighborhood. He held his breath slightly as he listened closely for Star’s pawsteps and after a couple seconds he heard her following along behind him and felt his heart leap in his chest. 

Star made sure to stick close to Marco as she stumbled along blindly behind him, the burning curiosity in her chest pressing her forward as her beloved home slowly faded in the distance as she journeyed into the unknown. 

...

Star was enchanted by the world outside her fence. She could only gap and wag her tail at every new sight that came her way, following along behind Marco. There were so many things to see, automobiles and fire hydrants and so, so many humans! Thousands of new smells invaded Star's nostrils and she couldn't help but sniff back eagerly. She wanted to know what all of it was and meant. 

She tried to keep her composure, especially when she caught a few smirking glances from Marco. She was a lady, after all. Still, it was hard to act sophisticated when you were left gawking awkwardly at something as simple as a window shop. Star jumped when a Jack-in-the-box popped up from behind the glass and Marco laughed. She tried to ignore the annoying tramp as well as her warm cheeks.

Marco led her over to some railroad tracks and they followed them for a short ways. Again, Star couldn't hold in her excitement as she asked, "Do you think we'll see a train?" 

"Probably not, the trains don't usually run at this time," Marco nonchalantly replied, boldly walking on the tracks themselves, while Star trotted next to them. 

"Oh," Star replied sadly, unable to hide her disappointment.

"Maybe next time, princess," Marco reassured her, giving her a tiny glance. 

Star didn't reply but her tail wagged just a little bit harder at the thought of there being a 'next time'. She hadn't been too sure about an outing with the street dog at first but she had to admit she was enjoying herself. Maybe she wouldn't mind having a 'next time' with Marco. 

Then the two reached their destination.

Of all the places Star had been imagining (since Marco had insisted on it being a surprise) an old rundown farm was not one of them. If farm was even the right word. The grass had been picked clean, only dirt and mud left. The house was falling apart loose boards and peeling paint making the place look hazardous. The only thing of even remote interest was a worn down chicken coop. Star gave Marco a skeptical look silently asking 'Is this the place?'

The mutt ignored his critical companion, breathing in the rustic air before sighing contintly, "This place never changes."

"Are you sure that's a good thing?" Star commented, wrinkling her snout.

Marco finally picked up on the pet's contempt and said confidently, "Trust me, Star. You are gonna love this."

"If you say so," Star replied, shifting uncomfortably on her paws, suddenly not sure about her decision to tag along. The dirt especially making her hesitant. Eclipsa hated having to give her baths and would usually ask Globgor do it. Star didn't want to cause trouble for her owners. 

But she was already here and she didn't want to turn back now, she would never hear the end about it from Marco. She had to prove to him once and for all that a pet could be just as wild and reckless as a stray. 

So, Star just took in a breath, gazing up at the wire fence that sealed off their entrance and asked, "So how do we get in?"

"This way," Marco replied, padding over to the fence and gesturing with his paw to a small hole just under where the fence was. He quickly widened the hole, using his front paws to scoop out dirt so both he and Star could fit easily under.

Star watched as the collie easily slipped through the hole, not a single patch of fur even grazing the fence line. He then turned, waiting for Star to do the same.

But she hesitated. 

Marco watched her stand there awkwardly for a second, before asking, "What is it now, princess?" A smirk grew as he added teasingly, "Afraid of getting a little dirty?"

Star's gaze narrowed slightly but she shook her head, causing her ears to flop back and forth. "No, it's just... my bow."

"Your bow," Marco repeated, an eyebrow beginning to raise. 

Star felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment, suddenly feeling stupid for bringing it up, but she lowered her head so Marco could clearly see the pretty pink ribbon tied around her ears, resting comfortably at the back of her head. "Uh yeah, Eclipsa and Globgor just bought it for me, I'm afraid it'll get ruined." Her voice grew softer and softer with each word, shame making her voice slowly break off, lost to the wind.

She waited for Marco to laugh or taunt her but surprisingly the dog didn't say anything, instead just gazing around thoughtfully at the fence. Star watched in surprise as his bright brown eyes searched for any openings, before they landed on a small gate. 

"Hang on I got an idea," Marco said. The hound then began the grueling task of trying to open the small lock with nothing but his nose. It took several attempts, trying to tease the small clasp up and Star held her breath at every try, sighing in disappointment each time it slipped right back into place. 

Finally after several endless minutes, Marco managed to get the gate open, a small push from his paw allowing Star to easily enter inside. 

Star happily trotted inside, touched by Marco's kindness. "Thanks," she whispered shyly. "I really appreciate you doing that for me." She scratched a paw in the dirt absentmindedly. 

Marco shrugged. "Well I couldn't let you ruin something important to you because of me, what kind of friend would I be, then?"

Star was too stunned to respond to that, just staring at him, wide-eyed. The slight sparkle in her eye seemed to make Marco uncomfortable, coughing into his paw before turning away and adding quickly, "B-Besides, then I'd never get you to come out of your fancy cage again, soooo-"

Star smiled softly back at him, easily picking up on his attempts to cover up his compassionate act and simply replied, "Well thanks all the same."

"S-Sure, it's no big deal, really," Marco nervously stuttered, for the first time losing his cocky demeanor that Star had so heavily associated with him. Looks like there was more to Marco than she had thought. And Star couldn't help her curiosity as she wondered what other sides to him waited beneath his rough exterior. 

"Anyways," Marco continued in a desperate attempt to change the subject. "Let me show you what we came here for." 

"Oh please," Star said teasingly, trotting along beside him as he led her to the chicken coop. "The anticipation is killing me."

Marco gestured with a paw at the coop. "Here we are!" He said in a showy tone. 

Stars eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm confused is it behind the dirty chicken coop orrr-"

Marco gave a fake laugh at the comment. "Haha, very funny. No, it is the chicken coop, Star."

"And why do we care about chickens, exactly?" Star asked, still not following Marco's train of thought.

"Easy. We're gonna scare them and then chase them around a bunch."

Star was startled by this answer, blurting out, "Why would we do that?"

"Because it's fun," Marco replied simply. 

"But we won't hurt them right?" Star asked nervously. 

"Naaahh," Marco dismissively answered, already walking up the wooden plank that led inside. "They love it. This is what they live for."

"Well, alright then," Star said wincing but still followed after her friend. She still had a point to prove, after all. 

Once inside, the smell of must and feathers filled Star's nose and she blinked a few times waiting for her eyes to adjust. The chickens all lay on small piles of straw that acted as their nest, each snoring peacefully, oblivious to the intruders in their home. The pampered pup looked over at her friend, unsure of what to do now.

But it seemed Marco was easily in control of the situation, shooting her a wink before sucking in a deep breath. Before Star could question what he was doing the mutt let out a loud series of barks that caused Star to flinch and startled the birds from their slumber, squawking and flapping around the coop wildly. Then they all rushed towards the only exit and Star barely had time to jump out of the way of the fluttering of a thousand feathers.

Star watched stunned as the birds scattered out across the yard, still clucking loudly and making a huge fuss as they scrambled around blindly. The pet felt a twinge of regret for scaring the birds until her eyes landed on Marco. The street dog crouched forward on his front paws, so his tail was sticking up in the air. It was wagging so quickly it was a wonder it hadn't lifted him off the ground. There was a playfulness in his eyes and his tongue stuck out just slightly and Star couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of the grown dog acting like a mere pup. 

Marco heard her chuckle and flashed her a winning grin that caused Star’s whole body to warm with affection and she smiled back at the mutt without even thinking. Then, without warning, the street dog launched himself towards one of the chickens causing it to squawk and scamper away as fast as it’s claws would allow. But Marco was on it’s tail in a second, following closely along behind it and letting out a few yips here and there to keep it motivated on escaping him. Star now outright laughed at her companion’s ridiculous display, his tongue now hanging fully out of his mouth as he chased after the bird, which zigzagged around the yard in some form of evasive maneuver. 

Star laughed harder and harder until her stomach hurt and there were tears in her eyes and still the mutt continued his hilarious display. Marco paused for only a second, panting wildly but clearly enjoying himself and he gave a slight incline of his head towards the lady dog, beaconing her over. Star shook her head, still thinking of her privileged upbringing, it simply wouldn’t be dignified of her. Marco’s eyes flashed with some kind of determination but quickly raced after the chicken again. 

This time though, he seemed to be guiding it in a specific path, cutting it off at several points and forcing it to turn and run and Star realized too late that he was leading it over to her. She shrieked and quickly moved out of the way as the chicken ran past, a few feathers flying up into the air and landing in her soft fur. Marco flew by her in a blur and she shot him an annoyed glare which he returned with a shrug over his shoulders. 

Star let out a huff, but a smile spread across her face a second later as she chased not after the chicken, but Marco himself, all thoughts of preserving dignity and respect lost as she gave into the tramp’s game. “Get back here, you scoundrel!” she barked playfully.

“You’ll have to catch me, Princess,” Marco shouted over his shoulder, delighted his companion was finally joining in on the fun. 

The two giggled as they raced around the yard, sending chickens fluttering into the air at every turn, the chickens themselves now forgotten as a game of chase broke out instead. Star, not used to running this much, found herself struggling to catch up to Marco but she refused to give up. Thinking quickly, she broke off course, running around the chicken coop and able to outmaneuver the hound. She let out a laugh of victory shouting, “Gotcha!” she lept towards him but he quickly jumped out of the way, causing her to land hard in the dirt. 

Star sat up quickly, spitting rocks and dirt from her mouth before growling as she heard Marco’s laughter. She rose to her paws, shaking the loose dirt off her shiny fur, before shooting her friend another glare. “Oh, that’s it, you’re on now!” she yelled, barely able to suppress her own laugh. Marco fake gasped before taking off running again and Star raced after him.

The two ran around the small backyard together and Star smiled brightly, enjoying the feeling of the wind on her face, the pounding in her heart, her ears flapping behind her. All of it. And all those days, living safe and secluded in her small home melted away as the feeling of true freedom overtook her. Marco hadn’t lied to her when he said she would have fun, Star was having the time of her life and she never wanted it to end! 

Star seeing several chickens pecking at the ground in front of her and Marco, smiled mischievously before letting out a loud bark, causing the birds to panic and scatter, several of them flapping their wings right in the poor dog’s face causing him to stumble back in surprise. Star used this opportunity to pounce on her companion, knocking him to the ground and pinning him under her weight. “Gotcha!” she shouted in victory, her front paws perched on his back and her head held high. “How’s that for a house pet?”

Marco chuckled, before rolling over on his back, causing her to slide off of him. The two lay on the ground for a minute, panting, staring into each other’s eyes as they smiled blissfully. 

“Alright, I admit that was pretty good,” Marco finally said, his tone full of some emotion Star couldn’t quite place, but there was a tenderness in her eyes that made her tail wag in joy. “I knew there was more to you than meets the eye.”

“Hmm, turns out there’s more to you, too,” Star commented shyly, suddenly looking away to hide her burning cheeks. 

“Like what?” he asked, leaning a little closer to her so their noses were almost touching. 

“Like… maybe you aren’t as annoying as I thought you were,” Star answered softly. The cocker spaniel found herself scooting closer to her companion. She didn’t know what she was about to do but she knew she wanted whatever it was to happen. 

“You might even be really… nice,” she finished.

There was now almost no space between them, their faces so close Star could smell Marco’s scent. It was musty and gritty but full of so much life and she wanted to know more. She wanted to know everything about Marco, wanted to be a part of his life in the same way he had become a part of hers. She wanted-

“Hey!” A loud voice interrupted the moment and Star looked over to see a human, an angry scowl on his face and a gleaming gray tool perched tightly in his hands. Star shivered at the hatred on the man’s face and she thought she saw Marco put a protective paw in front of her but it could have been her imagination. “Stop scaring my chickens, you mutts!” The man raised the shiny barrel so it was now facing right towards the pair of dogs and Star felt her heart drop. 

Marco let out a loud bark, which caused the man to jump and a loud bang rang through the air, hurting Star’s sensitive ears. The ground right beside her paw was stuck by something hard and fast, kicking dirt up into the air and terror shot through Star as she instinctively pulled her paw away from the sudden impact. “Run!” Marco shouted and Star didn’t have to be told twice. The two raced out the open gate, several chickens flapping out of their way and scattering into the street. Another loud bang sounded behind Star, who flinched but didn’t dare turn to see what it was, her heart racing quickly in her chest. 

She just focused on following Marco and not on the loud, angry shouts of the cruel man that grew further and further away. The street dog led them onto the street and Star didn’t hesitate to follow him, hoping he knew best. But at that exact moment, a car pulled out right in front of them and Star froze in terror. Thankfully, the car swerved to avoid hitting her, honking loudly in annoyance but sparing her life, thankfully. Star shook her head to free herself from her paralzed state and quickly chased after Marco, who was now quite a bit ahead of her. 

The street dog seemed to not notice his companion lagging behind as he swerved around several humans who now crowded the sidewalks. Star saw Marco disappear around a corner and quickly followed after him.

Star found herself in an abandoned alleyway and she sighed in relief to be out of the street and away from danger. But this was short-lived as she realized she didn’t see Marco anywhere. “Marco?” she called, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. After the scare earlier the silence of the alley was unnerving to Star and she felt her body shaking some against her will. She tried to hide her fear but her body didn’t seem to want to obey as she shuddered and shook, taking hesitant steps farther into the dark, abandoned alley. Her voice grew quiet as she softly called out for her companion, getting weaker and weaker as she received no answer. Where was he? 

Star was starting to question if she had gone the wrong way, when she heard something behind her and her heart leapt in joy. “Marco!” she called hopefully. 

But her hopes were dashed as a pair of rough looking street dogs emerged from the shadows. Their fur was matted and dirty, their faces set in permanent snears, while their eyes burned with both hunger and anger in equal intensity, everything about them gave Star the creeps and she found herself backing away from them as they approached. They blocked Star’s only exit out of the alley, living her trapped with these vile creatures... alone. 

“Well look what we have here,” one of the dog’s said, the disgust in his tone clear and Star noticed there was a piece missing from his left ear. “A prissy pet has wandered into our territory.” 

Star shrank under the intense gaze, keeping herself as low to the ground as she could, trying to look as non-threatening as possible in the hopes they would leave her alone. But that seemed to be wishful thinking. 

“What’s the matter, little lady, wander away from your humans or did they throw you out on the streets like the rest of us?” the dog said again, clearly the leader. 

Star felt a sudden burst of anger at the comment and held her head high as she responded critically, “Perhaps if you weren’t so ugly or rude you would have a chance to live outside of the gutter. But it seems you two are exactly where you belong.” 

The two dogs just stared at her stunned for a second, not sure how to respond to the harsh criticism and Star felt a small burst of pride for standing up for herself. However, this quickly turned to regret as the dogs let out deep guttural growls, their faces filled with fury and Star instantly wished she hadn’t provoked them. 

“Well it seems the princess has quite a bark on her,” the lead dog said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and envy. He slowly stalked closer and Star backed away nervously, only to run into a large wooden fence, trapping her and leaving her at the mercy of these vicious creatures. Both hounds sneared at their prey’s helpless predicament, clearly enjoying Star’s looks of panic and quivering body, her fur practically standing on end. They moved torturously slowly, playing with their victim as they savored her terror. “Let’s see if your bite is just as sharp,” the lead dog growled. 

With that he sprang towards her, jaw opened wide, his fangs ready to sink into flesh and fur and Star screamed, turning her head away and squeezing her eyes shut so she didn’t have to see her own death. But at the last second, something flew over the fence, a flash of brown descending quickly and landing between Star and the street dogs, slamming into the attacking leader and knocking him to the ground. 

Star hesitantly peaked open an eye only for them to widen in surprise as she saw the determined, brash form of Marco now standing protectively in front of her. He was lowered to the ground in a defensive stance, the nails of his claws digging slightly into the smooth tile, looking ready to attack at any second. His ears were lowered in a threatening manner and his face had contorted into a chilling snarl, baring his fangs at the rival dogs, a deep growl echoing from his throat. Star’s mouth hung open as she stared longingly at Marco, in that moment she couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than the sight of her friend coming to her rescue. Her heart was beating violently in her chest but if it was out of fear or love Star couldn’t determine, ultimately deciding it was a strange mixture of both somehow. 

“Stay away from her!” Marco barked out in warning and Star felt a chill run through her. This dog before her was nothing like the annoying mutt she had grown to care for. The Marco she knew was all smooth smiles and playful looks, but this dog in front of her… he was a predator at its purest form. His every move, every inflection, every action was focused on one task only- to defend. Star realized she was seeing yet another side of Marco today. The true primitive animal that lay beneath the levels of charm and charisma. And yet, instead of fear, Star only felt herself falling all the harder for her companion. 

Because he was protecting her and that was all that mattered. 

The two dogs were not deterred by Marco’s death-filled glares, instead this only seemed to anger them more as the lead dog scoffed and snapped, “Oh what? Are you seriously going to try and tell me you are protecting this pet?” 

Marco only growled in response, his eyes narrowing and seeming to scream ‘Just try something I dare you’. 

The lead dog seemed amused by this as his and his partner started to circle around Marco, looking for an opening and Marco watched them wearily. “Didn’t realize you were so soft,” the lead dog taunted. “Can’t believe you would actually risk your life for an outsider. You’re one of us, remember?” 

“I am nothing like you!” Marco barked and that seemed to bring the tension to its boiling point as all at once a fight broke out. 

Star could barely track the flurry of claws and teeth and fur as the hounds mangled one another in any way they could. Marco fought valiantly against his two opponents, sinking his teeth into any patch of fur that drifted too close, while easily dodging out of the way of the others' attacks on him. 

The smaller dog managed to sneak up behind Marco and jumped onto his back, Marco letting out a howl of pain as its sharp fangs bit into flesh. But with a simple kick of his backpaws the other dog went flying, slamming hard into a trashcan and letting out its own yelp of agony.

The lead dog then caught Marco by surprise, as it snapped its jaw around Marco’s left paw, pressing down and drawing blood, staining Marco’s fur red. Marco again let out a cry of pain but was quick to retaliate, using his good paw to slam into the dog’s face, catching him right in the eye and the lead dog yelped and pulled away. 

But the lead dog shrugged off its injury, snarling and going in for the kill, its dripping fangs opened wide as it headed straight for Marco’s throat, ready to tear it out in one motion. But Marco saw the attack coming from a mile away, stepping out of the way and burying his own fangs in the back of the hound’s neck as he passed. He used the momentum to throw the dog across the alley, the vile dog slamming into the same trashcan as his partner, the two now laying in a heap on the ground. 

They recovered slowly, raising their heads as they looked over to their opponent with bleary, pain-filled eyes. Marco towered over them, his eyes flashing with murder as he growled sharply, “Had enough.”

The other dogs lost their nerve, shrinking in fear before the menacing Marco, whimpering nervously as the lead dog muttered, “Okay, okay, fine. You win. You and the pet get off easy, this time. But if I see you in my territory again-”

Marco stepped closer so they were now face to face, his eyes flashing dangerously as he growled, “Oh yeah and what are you gonna do?”

The lead dog struggled to keep a straight face as he backed away from the superior hound, him and his lackey now the ones shaking in fear. Marco let out a sharp sniff before declaring, “Now get out of here before I change my mind and finish what you started!” 

The two dogs didn’t have to be told twice as they ran speedily away, their tails tucked between their legs as they fearfully escaped Marco’s wrath. Star breathed a sigh of relief when the two dogs vanished from view but stared at her friend in concern as his body remained tense and alert. She approached him slowly, reluctantly, afraid he might lash out at her if she made any loud noises but he didn’t. He simply glared off into the distance, his posture threatening and calloused. 

“Marco?” Star whispered anxiously. She didn’t like seeing her friend this way. Now that the danger had passed she wished the annoying but lovable Marco would return to her, seeing him go from a carefree puppy into this wild animal was too much for her mind to comprehend. 

But slowly, cautiously Marco began to relax. His tight muscles loosened and his fur flattened back into place. His posture grew less rigid and more easygoing. His twisted expression melted into a vacant, far-off look and his hardened gaze slowly softened as he turned to address her. Star nearly fainted with relief, Marco still far from his playful self, but it was still much better. 

Marco blinked once as his eyes seemed to focus in on her face and he muttered softly, “Star.” He regarded her for another second, his brown orbs scanning her up and down before he finally added, “You okay?” 

Star nodded dumbly, not sure she could produce words right now, her throat tight from the terrifying ordeal. Marco gave her a worried look but sighed in relief saying, “Thank goodness. I was worried those jerks might have hurt you.”

“Do you…” Star began, before reconsidering, wanting to word this correctly to avoid upsetting her friend. “Does that happen… often?”

“What, the fights?” Marco asked, an eyebrow slowly raising. 

Star nodded, before explaining, “You seemed like it wasn’t your first.”

Marco scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Well to be fair, that was hardly what I would call a fight. Those two idiots had no idea what they were doing. I’ve been in way tougher scrapes then-” Marco cut himself off when he noticed Star’s eyes widening. He quickly corrected himself, plastering on a forced smile, “Uhh, I mean, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m as tough as they come, Star.”

“I-I see,” Star muttered, not sure what else to say. Life on the streets must be hard if this experience was anything to go by and she wanted to cry as she imagined all the times Marco must have been hurt or scared. While she was busy living it up in a house where her every need was cared for, he was busy trying to stay alive. 

Marco, almost as if reading her thoughts, suddenly told her in a calm, even tone, “Hey, don’t worry about me, I love living on the streets even if things are a little rough sometimes. Life out here isn’t all bad, I swear. That just.. wasn’t the best example.” Marco rolled his eyes before adding, “I just can’t believe those mutts would attack you like that! If I ever see them again I’ll-” His gaze hardened and a low growl echoed in his throat as he thought of the two attack dogs.

Star quickly cut in before her friend could lose himself to his anger, blurting out, “No, no, I’m fine, really! They didn’t do anything to me! Although that’s mostly thanks to you.” She blushed slightly at this but gave him a bright smile. “Thank you, by the way, for saving me.”

“No problem, princess,” Marco replied, a cheery grin lighting up his face. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you get killed on your first trip into town?”

Star giggled slightly as she added playfully, “Oh yeah, is that more of a third trip kind of thing orrrr-”

Marco laughed and Star felt her heart thump against her chest at the sweet sound. “I see this experience hasn’t hurt your witty comebacks at all,” he said, giving her a knowing look.

“You wish,” Star replied with a teasing grin.

Marco opened his mouth to say something else, moving towards her in emphasis, but instead hissed in pain, cringing as his left paw touched the ground. Star’s eyes widened in concern and she asked worriedly, “What’s wrong?” 

The street dog lifted his hurt paw up, cringing in pain, and that’s when she saw the damage the two dogs had done to him. Blood was dripping from the wound, staining his fur red, and it hurt Star just looking at it. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” she shouted, moving closer to properly inspect the wound.

“But Marco quickly brushed off Star’s concern, telling her in a slightly strained tone, “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch is all.”

Star gave him a doubting look. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad.”

“Nah, just gotta walk it off is all,” he said, before flashing a wide, goofy grin in her direction. Star felt her heart go out to her friend, her stomach churning slightly with guilt over him getting hurt protecting her. He was clearly more hurt than he was letting on and Star wanted desperately to help him in some way. She wanted to repay him for what he had done for her, some small token of her gratitude. And this seemed like the simplest way of doing that. 

She scanned her brain, thinking hard for an idea, when suddenly a thought popped into her head. She smiled softly to herself before turning her head as far around as it could. Marco watched her curiously as she shook her head back and forth a few times, finally managing to grab a loose end with her teeth, before she slowly pulled it loose. The bow came undone, the ribbon now hanging loosely in her mouth and she carried it over to her friend’s paw. She carefully began wrapping the stretch of cloth over Marco’s injured paw as the street dog stood there in stunned silence.

It took a bit of time, having to use her nose, paw, and teeth to tie the make-shift bandage into place, but slowly, meticulously she managed to wrap up the wound. And with a final tug on the ribbon, Star let go, moving back to admire her work.

Marco stared down at the ribbon in confusion, before looking back up at her, a tenderness in his eyes that did all kinds of crazy things to Star’s heart. “Why did you do that?” he asked, looking so baffled that Star almost laughed out loud at the strange expression.

“Well, I had to stop the blood somehow,” she replied instead. “It was dripping all over the pavement.”

“No, I mean, your pretty bow, you kinda just ruined it,” Marco said, his voice hushed. “Wasn’t this important to you?”

Star shook her head. “You needed it more than I did,” she replied simply. “Besides Eclipsa and Globgor can always get me a new one.”

Marco’s eyes flooded with deep affection, a fondness that went so much deeper than he seemed to be able to comprehend, and Star knew without a doubt she was finally seeing the whole Marco. There was a longing there, a need for companionship that he had been starved of for so long, but also slight fear, like he was afraid to give himself away to her, his guarded heart opening up just a little wider to let her in. And from the way his eyes roamed over her face, it was like he was seeing her for the first time. 

And honestly, Star understood all of this, because she was feeling it herself. 

But instead of trying to run from this feeling, she embraced it, welcoming it openly. Because she liked this feeling and she didn’t want it to stop. She wanted it to be a part of her and she hoped that Marco wanted that, too.

After a few awkward minutes of gawking at each other in silence, the spell was broken not by one of the dogs but by a car horn from the street outside the alley, the loud noise causing both of them to jump and bringing them crashing back to reality. Star shook her head, before staring up at the darkening sky, declaring nervously, “Oh no, it’s getting late. I should probably get back to the house.”

Marco nodded in agreement, although he seemed disappointed at this news. “Yeah, that would be best, I guess.” He turned to lead her out of the alley, his tail hanging limply between his legs and his ears lowered in sadness. “Come on, princess. I’ll walk you back.” 

Star stared back at him in sympathy before rushing to catch up, not wanting to risk being separated from him… again. She walked with him side by side, staring at his depressed face for a few seconds before saying softly, “Uh, hey. Thanks for bringing me along. Sorry for the trouble I caused you.”

Marco shook his head. “No, no, you aren’t any trouble. I’m just sorry things got so… tense back there. Looks like my efforts to show you the wonders of life off the leash didn’t work out so well, huh? You’ll probably never want to step foot outside your fence after all that.”

“Actually, I had a good time,” Star told him and he turned to her with shock.

“Seriously?” he asked, giving her a disbelieving look.

“Well, okay it got a little crazy and traumatizing there at the end,” she admitted before letting out an involuntary shudder. She gave him a bright grin as she added, “But I’m glad I decided to come with you. I never realized how boring and predictable my life was before. Or just how much I was missing out on. So thank you, for showing me.”

Marco was still giving her an incredulous look, still too dumbfounded for words. And Star found his awkward gawking adorable, adding sweetly, “But maybe next time we can do something a little more relaxing.”

This finally seemed to get Marco’s attention as he asked excitedly, “Next time.” His eyes shimmered with anticipation, his tail starting to wag, once again.

Star nodded. “Mmhmm ‘next time’,” she repeated, giving him a shamelessly flirty grin.

Marco’s eyes flashed mischievously as he declared in a hinting tone, “Well, y’know I do happen to know a little place here in town, if you’re interested.”

“Oh. What did you have in mind?” she asked, giving him a small nudge with her shoulder.

“It’s a nice Italian restaurant. The owners and I go way back and they are also generous with the hand-outs. Their pizzas are okay but their spaghetti is to die for.”

Star giggled, her heart thumping eagerly against her chest. “Sounds perfect.”

“So, pick you up at your place, late tonight? After the owners are asleep.” His eyes were full of hope and joy and so many emotions at once that it almost made Star ache. He was opening himself up to her again, letting his true self show and Star knew she had to grab on tight. Grab on and never let go. 

Because if she was being honest with herself, life with Marco was what living was really all about. 

“It’s a date.”

[choices-love-affair]

Fever Pitch - Part 1.

Eek! So I’m back! This WIP has been sitting in my files for so long and I finally found the groove to finish and post it! I hope you guys enjoy it!

I anticipate this to be a two-part story, set between the ethics hearing and Ethan returning from the Amazon, it’s your much-loved angst fest that we all know I love writing!

Shoutout to the absolute wonderful @drethanramslay, who helped me get this over the line with her contributions, I’d so lost without you and everyone else who is always so wonderful and supportive.

(also, if you want to be taken off my taglist, just holla)

Anyway! Please be kind (heh) and I hope you enjoy!

WARNING! One swear word, plenty of angst.

This is a Ethan x F!MC story (Lorelei Stannaway).

The scuffing of Lorelei’s slippers bounced off the walls of the eerily quiet hallways of Edenbrook; at 2am, the graveyard shift had well and truly taken a hold of the otherwise bustling precinct. The nurses had dimmed the hallway lights and quietened the machines in an attempt to keep their patients asleep, the on-call doctors all retired to their offices, many closed doors accompanied with the glow of light illuminating the bottoms of them as she walked past.

Whilst the hospital was quiet at this time of night Lorelei’s mind was racing, and her dilemma so loud inside her head, it was almost debilitating. Before she realised, she was face first with the office door labelled: Dr Ethan Ramsey, and after taking a steadying breath of air, she entered the room. She glanced up to see Ethan with his back to her, leant over his desk taking a phone call, yet her vision quickly blurred his form out, as she noticed the bookcase behind his desk, usually filled with journals, accolades and framed certificates was now bare, the grained wood now a stark and confronting brown that took her very much by surprise.

“Wow…okay. You sure don’t waste anytime” Lorelei scoffed, the words sounding much more immature than she had initially anticipated, spilling from her mouth before she could even register that it had happened. She couldn’t back down now, she had initiated the battle and she was determined not to lose it.

Ethan sighed loudly, “Naveen, can I call you back? … Yes, I know. I already know. Naveen! I get it. I will. Why you’re even here at the hospital when you should be home resting is beyond me, go home.” He chastised the older man before ending the phone call and glancing across defeatedly at the woman before him.

“Really, Lorelei? We’re still here?” he bit back “please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, Rori. They need me, I want to be there and help. Surely you can understand that?” he reasoned, turning his back on her once more to continue packing, a silent indication that it was no longer up for discussion.

Lorelei’s blood boiled at his silent gesture.

“Ethan…” her voice was calm, controlled and laced with promised absolute as she stared at the back of his head, although her eyes resembled that of a tumultuous storm, her heart was racing and her breathing erratic – she was petrified of what could possibly eventuate tonight. Lorelei knew she had his undivided attention now; she could tell by the increased heaving of Ethan’s shoulders with each breath he took that he was waiting for what was about to follow.

“Ethan, if you leave here and get on that plane. If you leave this country, this hospital… Ethan, in a time that I really need you the most, if you leave me…” she paused, preparing herself to say the next words and willing herself strong enough to follow through on them “I won’t be here when you get back”.

That was it, her last-ditch effort to persuade him to stay. She was out of options and yet felt so very ashamed of how disreputable she had become through sheer desperation. She knew her attempts were feeble however, nor did they serve any purpose, for Ethan had checked out long before she could have convinced him otherwise, and that was what destroyed her the most.

Ethan visibly bristled as he registered her words, and slowly, he could feel himself becoming indignant at her ultimatum. He stood and weighed the reality of her words with his back to her for what felt like a lifetime before he eventually spoke, his voice barely above a whisper “you don’t mean that… “ he replied, though he was doubtful, and he knew the waver in his voice betrayed him.

“Then why are you so eager to test its credibility?” she whispered back, too afraid to speak louder in fear of her voice breaking, tears threatened at her eyes, warm and prickly, as she tried to blink them back. Instead they cascaded down her cheeks in silence as she wiped angrily at her face.

Ethan leant heavily against his desk and hung his head, as though it was the only thing capable of withstanding the weight currently crushing him “what do you want me to say?” he sighed exasperatedly “that I’m sorry? That it isn’t beneficial for my career and I should just stay in order to keep you happy? Lorelei, this isn’t going to be some happy ending for us, I’ve already told you how I feel…” he broke off, carefully measuring the next words in his mind, acutely aware of the damage they will do, but knowing that they’re very much mutual  “…you’re getting too attached. If I don’t leave now, Lorelei, you’ll only suffer, longing for something I’ll never be able to give you. At the end of the day, I’m doing this for you.”

“I’m sorry what?!” Lorelei raised her voice incredulously, her eyebrow cocked as she felt the confusion and anger bubble in the pit of her stomach, seeping into every crevice of her being and consuming her, removing all rational thought from her mind “Jesus Christ, Ethan! Could you be a man and at least turn around and look me in the eyes if you’re going to break my heart?!”.

Ethan’s fear got the better of him as he exploded at her provoking and accusatory tone, implying that breaking her heart was his main priority, without realising, his sub conscious projected him into panic mode as he became reactive and emotional “I said I’m doing this for you!!” his voice quickly reaching the same volume as hers as he whipped his body around to look at her, his eyes glowed with a burning intensity, a silent warning for her to back down.

“Oh for fuck sake, E! That’s bullshit and you know it!” she rebutted, fresh hot tears spilling down her face yet her voice not betraying her this time “you don’t get to make those decisions for me!”

“I am not doing this right no-“

“Then when, Ethan? In six hours when you’re on the way to the airport? In nine when you’re on the plane? When will we do this because I don’t know about you, but I don’t think there’s much time left to do anything!”

Ethan looked at her in desperation, eyes filled with so much pain and angst, his ocean blues were now stormy greys, as he pushed himself off the desk and toward the door.

Desperation reaching fever pitch as she followed him out the doors and into the hallway “Ethan! Where are you going?!” her legs struggling to keep up with his strides as she followed him to the elevators, he stared forward, not once wavering or hazarding a glance at her in fear of his resolve crumbling.

The loud ping of the elevator doors opening reverberated throughout the otherwise silent hallway, Ethan stepped inside and turned around, not quite managing to meet her eyes “please… don’t follow me. It isn’t forever, Rori. I’ll be back soon and by the time that happens, you would have gotten over your ridiculous crush and we can both move on and do our jobs” his heart shattering as the words left his mouth, as he finally looked up and locked eyes with her as she stood there, bewildered, speechless and rooted to the ground. A sob choked in the back of her throat as she noticed the tears welling in Ethan’s eyes, reflecting her own.

“stay” she quietly pleaded “because if you don’t, I won’t. If you leave, I can assure you I won’t be here when you get back.” her final warning hung heavy in the air between them as Ethan assessed her face for any sign of relent.

“You’re being unreasonable”.

“the feeling is mutual”.

The pair stood either side of the elevator doors, not once breaking eye contact as they each waited for the other to surrender, yet neither having any intention of doing so. As the doors slid shut on Ethan’s broken-hearted face and carried him away, Lorelei was left staring at the harsh metal, a stark reminder of the metaphorical wall that Ethan had so meticulously placed between them, and continued to leave up.

She stayed rooted to the spot, bowing her head as the warm tears began falling hard and fast down her face again, and the sob she had been keeping in finally escaped.

“Lorelei…” a warm, gentle voice cooed down the hallway, as she turned to see Naveen approaching her “my sweet girl, come. Let’s go sit down” he shushed as he collected her in his arms and rubbed her shoulder empathetically “it isn’t forever” he reassured.

“he just... he just left Naveen? What if he never comes back? What if he stays there and we never see him again?” she spoke aloud, her mind racing.

“He’ll be back, Dear. If I’m positive of nothing else, it’s that he won’t be able to stay away for too long, not from you anyway” he smiled a warm and knowing smile at the young doctor, as he gently led her back towards his office.  

Taglist: @ethandaddyramsey @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @mvalentine @beloved-ode @kaavyaethanramsey @newcolonies @missmiimiie @nooruleman @drethanramslay @agent-breakdance @angela8756 @utterlyinevitable @maurine07 @professorkingslay 

[oneletterelliot]

Married to the Music (SHINee) - liveblog reaction

My delve into SHINee continues with Married to the Music, as recommended by @subtextread

Married to the Music - Immediately, this has a funky, unexpected vibe. I like the beat. I don’t love the build up to the chorus, but the chorus itself is pretty catchy. Someone has a very nice, clear head voice. Nice harmonies. Did this song not have a bridge, or was the bridge just so musically non-distinct from the rest of the song?

Savior - Cringy spoken opening. A reoccurring kpop theme, I feel. I like this song so far. Was just starting to think that as the second song on the album, it would be a strong contender to be the lead single, before realizing that it has to be “Married to the Music,” which is interesting because I didn’t think that one felt musically strong enough to be the lead single. Anyways, I’m still liking this song. It makes me want to dance and I’m tired right now.

Odd Eye - Oh, I like the strings. But... another cringy spoken opening. Oh, this is the smooth low energy song of the album? Whoever sings “my eye’s on you,” you have a lovely tone! No big thoughts on this song. I liked it well enough.

Love Sick - Are these 5 chords? Why do I feel like they are? Imagine if I paid better attention in any of my music theory classes. Another lower energy song, but maybe a little more interesting to me than “Odd Eye.” The chorus feels pretty 90s boy band-esque to me, someone who rarely listened to 90s boy bands lol. Actually, the bridge reminds me a lot of the bridge to NCT U’s “90s Love” haha, now that I’ve mentioned it.

Continued under the cut, because long post and I didn’t want to split it up.

View - I like this chord progression. Second singer, I like your voice. (Edit: I looked it up, and it’s Onew). Digging these harmonies. OH, I LIKE THIS BEAT. I was worried this was going to be another low energy song, but this is quite driving actually, and I’m into it. Very club. Was the bridge really that short or was I just distracted? I like this song. I’m vibing. (Edit: THIS WAS THE LEAD SINGLE FOR THE ORIGINAL VERISON OF THE ALBUM?! WE LOVE TO HEAR IT!)

Romance - This opening made me smile. The instrumental vaguely reminds me of one of the songs off NCT 127′s We Are Superhuman, but I’m not sure which one (because it was one I don’t routinely listen to). It also sounds like it would make good background music for a racing video game. SHINee does good harmonies. I could see this song getting stuck in my head. Ohoho, a fake out ending? The acapella works well for this song.

Trigger - Now, this is kinda a different vibe, and I’m into it. The voice around the 1:15 mark made me sit up a little straighter. (Edit: Looked it up, and it’s Jonghyun.) Oh no, did they just say, “hey, little shawty,” because if so... lol. I really like whatever is happening around 2:11. I’m not sure how I felt about this bridge. Oh, I like this ending.

Farewell My Love - Are we back to smooth low energy songs? All signs point to yes. Man, I felt like the ending of “Trigger” was building up to something higher energy, but I suppose this vibe makes sense for a song called “Farewell My Love.” High voice at 1:30. (Edit: It’s Jonghyun, of course.) I do appreciate the combo of low rap and high, held vocals, as previously established. 

An Ode to You - Yeahhhh, I figured a song with this name would be a ballad. Oooh that high voice around 1:25. (Edit: Jonghyun, of course, of course!) I like the way the instrumental becomes a little more after that. Actually, this kind of makes me want to international foxtrot, and I haven’t even counted it yet. Lovely vocals and lovely instrumentals. And lovely harmonies.

Hold You - Are we finally getting a little higher energy again? No? “Ho-ho-hold you for a minute.” Idk, I still kinda want to dance to this. I don’t care much for this double-voiced rap after the chorus. It’s just not my stylistic preference. Sorry, my mind wandered for a minute--was that really a key change, or did I imagine it? “We touching, we loving.” Me too, thanks.

Alive - Wow that’s an intro. This song makes me want to dance too. I’m envisioning body rolls. Harmonies! Yes! I like it when SHINee harmonizes. This squeaking in the backing... I keep expecting it to break into the full on bed squeaks from NCT 127′s “Baby Don’t Like It.” I like the instrumental for the bridge. Not to be this person, but I bet this bridge’s rap would sound amazing in Chinese.

Woof Woof - Now, I recognize this title from Mishal’s tumblr header lol. I will be waiting eagerly for Kibum’s “brrah.” “WHERE MY DOGS AT?!” God, I love this beat already. “Skip the boring bits.” Yes, love this energy. Wow, I was trying to decide if I thought this was a cha cha or a jive, but I think it’s a quickstep? Oh, it’s definitely a quickstep, and fuck, I really want to quickstep to it. Cross chasse with running finish, anyone? Ah, it’s so jazzy. Polkas would be perfect here! Wait, I got so excited about how I would quickstep to this that I forgot to listen for Kibum’s “brrah” :(

Chocolate - “I just want to put the record straight.” Actually, a lot of the songs on this album have jazzy vibes, I feel. Something a little lower energy makes sense after the exhilaration that was “Woof Woof.” I like the bassline. Was that line “hot chocolate drips” or “hot chocolate chips,” because, um? I’m kinda into the harmonies on “be my lady.” Whoever is singing “oh my god,” I do quite like your delivery of it. Ok, I liked the ending.

Black Hole - This song feels very perky? Preppy? Idealistic? Which is kinda funny given its title. I like the melody of the chorus. And once again, the harmonies are really. One minute mark voice. (Edit: So apparently it was Jonghyun and then Minho, though my brain didn’t distinguish them as separate voices.) Gah, I do like the overlapping vocals. It’s just the right thing to do when you have multiple vocalists, I feel. I think I would workout to this song rather than dance to it. Parts of this kinda remind me of “Alice” by Pogo.

An Encore - Oh, this sounds like it’s kinda to be very boy band ballad. Huh. Does SHINee always end on a ballad note? That’s a choice. So cinematic. It’s too bad this song isn’t in 3/4 time because its whole vibe feels like a waltz lol.