#'this is the problem I will face for the rest of my life' and the problem is just being who he is - the 'only one'

[darnell-la]

can i request older logan with reader who’s a crybaby… reader who cries over little things and older logan who can’t help but get hard and coddle her. wiping away tears during sex!!!

note: older Logan wouldn’t take y/n’s crying session seriously. Usually, they’d all be because of work, something he’s told her a thousand times he didn’t want her to do, so a part of him didn’t care. Instead, he loved how much she cried, taking advantage of it whenever he could.

———

“How was work today, Bub?” Logan asked, eyes glued to the newspaper he had picked up in front of the door earlier this morning. Y/n hadn’t said anything. She tried thinking of what exactly she should say, but he had spoken first.

“Bub? What up?” Logan asked, eyes looking over his reading glasses as she slipped off her shoes and hung her things up. “I-I — You know,” y/n said, but Logan in fact did not know.

“I know what?” He asked, setting his paper aside as he felt something wrong with her. “Work today — It was just exhausting,” she said as she went into the kitchen to grab a glass of any alcohol Logan bought for himself, and she drank occasionally.

“What happened?” Logan asked as she got up, listening closely to her story of the day. The more she talked, the more cracks he heard in her house.

“A-And the boss said maybe he’d fire me if I kept snapping back at the customers, but they always start it! Every day, it’s the same s-shit!”

“Baby, baby,” Logan said as he came up behind the young lady before she could pick up the glass she had just filled. “Don’t need you drinkin’ your problems away. It ain’t good for you,”

“I know, but — I just need something, Logan. This is so stressful,” she said as he turned her around to take a look at her face, and like he knew it, she was crying. Eyes glossy and puffy as always.

“Baby,” Logan tilted his head with a sigh, upset that she’s always stressed and taking in everything people say to her. He wished she could just move on with life, and stay happy with a big smile.

“Look at me, Bub,” Logan said as he lifted her head after she tried turning her head. “You need to relax — Stop letting these people get to your head,” Logan said as he wiped her tears.

“I know, but-“ y/n tried saying, but the man shushed her. “Don’t speak, Bub, just relax. And no drinking either,” Logan said as he moved the glass she filled to the side.

“You’re too pretty to be cryin’ all the time, baby,” Logan said as his faves nuzzled hers. “I-It’s just so much,” y/n cried as his hands rubbed her body, trying to calm her down a bit.

“I know, baby, and what did I tell you? Told you I’d take that easy lumberjack job, right? Get us double what an average human man could make workin’ for ‘em and put that money towards our cabin,” Logan reminded her.

“Baby, I don’t want you to work though,” y/n said as his hands tracked up her shirt. “And why can’t I? I’m the man, and you’re my pretty girl. I’m tired of being a housewife. That’s your job, or at least let me do it all. You can relax the rest of your pretty life,” Logan said in the crook of her neck.

“You’re gonna take my offer, bub. Ian askin,” Logan’s hand dug into her jeans to rub at her cunt until she squealed. “I-I don’t know,” she still cried, upset at herself for being this sensitive and also hit by the instant pleasure Logan was giving her.

“What did I say, baby? This ain’t askin,” Logan said before he ripped y/n’s jeans off of her. She gasped as he picked her up and placed her on the counter, spreading her legs as he pulled himself out of his jeans.

“You should be waitin’ at home for him to come back and give it up. Not the other way around, baby,”

Logan pushed into the weeping girl, making her hands fly up to grip shi shoulder. “Logan,” y/n sobbed, feeling his cock run through her walls in all of the right ways. He always made her forget why she cried in the first place.

“Ssh, baby — Just enjoy me. Cunts beggin’ for it,” Logan said as he cupped her face, wiping all of the tears that streamed down her face. “Mhm hmm,” he groaned as his free arm hooked under one of her legs to get a good new angle to pound her in.

“L-Lo,” y/n cried out, loving the way his body smacked against hers. “That’s it, baby — Let it all out,” Logan pulled her into his body, pounding so hard, that the countertop began shifting.

“Cry on my cock, baby — Look so good like this. So fuckin’ good,” Logan couldn’t lie as his eyes could barely stay open and tears still streamed from them. He was Jauch a crybaby, but his crybaby.

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part seven)

Steve Rogers x f!reader / Bucky Barnes x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve's visitors in the 1950s force him to accept the truth. The new Captain America drives a wedge in the reader's relationship with Bucky.

themes/warnings : pining, angst, Loki and Mobius featured

word count : 2k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

The 1950s, seven months after Steve's arrival

You're not supposed to be here.

The sound of an old radio drifts lazily through the air, some crooner from a time long forgotten. Loki lingers behind Mobius in the living room, adjusting his coat with a smirk that practically drips with condescension. He's enjoying the storm of emotion on Steve's face.

"What do you mean?" The former Captain America asks.

Mobius and Loki exchange glances before Mobius steps forward, pulling out a small, metallic device that flickers with a strange light.

Mobius gets right into his explanation, gesturing to the TemPad, its holographic images flashing in front of Steve: timelines splitting, branches forming, collapsing under the careful pruning of the TVA.

Steve simply watches as the enormity of it sinks in. His world is crumbling around him yet again.

"What do you think you're doing here, Captain?" Loki drawls, his eyes glinting with an odd mix of amusement and sympathy. "Living the quiet life, are we? Playing house in the 1950s?"

Mobius sighs, ignoring Loki's taunts. "You know why we’re here, Steve. We came to bring you back. You weren’t meant to stay."

Steve’s eyes flicker with a brief flash of something – regret? Guilt? Or was that hope? He turns slightly, casting a glance at the quaint home he stands in, and then back at Mobius. "I made my decision."

"Yeah, you did," Loki interrupts, crossing his arms as he sizes up the man in front of him. "And look where that’s gotten you. Hiding out in a time that doesn’t belong to you."

Steve’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening. He can feel the accusation hanging in the air, too familiar, too true. But he keeps his voice steady, his shoulders stiff. "I came back to claim what I deserve."

Mobius steps closer, his voice softer now. "While I understand that, Steve... Right now, you’re living in the past – a time which was never meant to be your present."

Steve says nothing. The truth is a splinter lodged in his chest, one that’s been festering since he first stepped into this world that wasn’t his. Because it wasn’t really about Peggy anymore. It was about you.

You. The one he left behind, the one he’s thought about every single day since he made that fateful choice. He had convinced himself he was doing the right thing, that he could live in the past and let go of everything. But the truth gnawed at him. He wasn’t living here – he was hiding.

"I had to come back," Steve mutters, almost to himself. "I owed it to Peggy."

Loki lets out a sharp laugh, drawing Steve’s attention. "Oh, please. Owing someone something doesn’t mean trapping yourself in a past that doesn’t need you. Peggy moved on, Steve. She had a life. But you? You abandoned yours."

He abandoned you. He abandoned Bucky.

Mobius sighs again, hands slipping into his pockets as he tries to cut through Loki’s sharp edges. "Steve, we’re not here just because of your choices. You staying here, in this time – it’s creating problems. Serious ones."

Steve frowns, straightening. "You prune timelines. What’s one more divergence?"

Mobius rubs the back of his neck, glancing at Loki before answering. "You're not just some random variant. You're Captain America. The impact of your absence is like pulling a thread from a tightly woven tapestry. Everything starts to unravel. Even the TVA can't stop the consequences of that for long."

Steve’s face hardens. "I'm just living quietly, out of the way. No one knows I'm here."

Loki’s voice cuts in, sharp and cold. "And every day you stay, more branches form. The longer you hide from where you're meant to be, the more damage is done."

Mobius steps forward, his voice steady but urgent. "Steve, we can only prune so much before the entire thing collapses. And trust me, when that happens, we don’t just erase this reality. We erase you."

"I don't believe – "

"We erase her."

Steve’s breath catches, his mind racing. This wasn’t what he thought. Now that harm is directed to you, the situation has drastically changed for him.

"And what if I go back?" Steve’s voice is tight, controlled, but beneath it is a thread of fear, of hope.

Mobius softens, sensing the shift. "If you go back, the timeline stabilizes. The branches collapse. The Steve Rogers your world remembers – the one who fought for the future, not the past – returns. And her…" He pauses, carefully choosing his words. "She's still waiting for you, Steve."

"Is she?" Loki cuts in, his tone mischievous as can be. "Didn't they just – "

Mobius sharply stops him right then and there. "Shut up, Loki."

Steve's heart twists painfully. His choice had been selfish, and he knows that. He'd run from you, from a future he was afraid to face. A life he believed could never offer peace.

"What if it's too late?" His voice breaks, just a little, his heart finally admitting the one thing he’s been too afraid to say.

Mobius smiles gently. "You’ve made tough calls before, Steve. But this isn’t about war, or duty, or sacrifice. This is about you. You deserve to live in your timeline – with the people who need you. She needs you. Go back, Steve. Fix what you can still fix."

Steve stands in silence, torn between the life he thought he wanted and the one that’s still waiting for him. He thought staying here would bring him peace, but all it's brought is doubt, regret, and a gnawing emptiness. He doesn't have his heart here with him.

Steve is about to speak, when Hunter comes bounding in the room, tail wagging wildly as he takes in the intruders. Another thing that Steve will have to leave behind.

But, apparently not.

"The dog can come with you," Mobius offers, shrugging lightly.

"What?" Loki turns to him in amused disbelief.

"Oh c'mon. Hunter is just as much hers, as he is Steve's."

2024, seven months after Steve's departure

For a while, everything had felt right.

Whatever right was in your lives.

Until the TV in your apartment blared the news about John Walker, Captain America 2.0.

Bucky watched it, jaw clenched, as some stranger stood there in Steve's uniform, parading the shield like it had only ever been his.

Bucky saw the flash of pain that crossed your face, which quickly transformed into anger.

He felt it almost immediately. You were pulling back, closing yourself off, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when the ghost of Steve is hovering between the two of you.

Was it still about Steve? Or was it about the future you both thought you had a handle on, until some nobody took everything that Steve represents?

Bucky knows you're hurting. He feels it. He's felt it since the moment Steve left – when you were left behind, and so was he.

And it kills him, seeing you like this, maybe even more than the pain he feels from being left behind.

Steve's shadow is keeping you from fully being here, with him, and it's a fresh kind of hurt.

You shut the TV off and irately toss the remote somewhere in the room.

Bucky clenches his fists and finally speaks, his voice rougher than usual. "We should go see Sam."

"Okay," you respond, your voice calm yet empty.

He's not going to lose you. He can't.

"Doll?"

Your response is a barely audible hum.

Bucky reaches for your hand, his anchor. "We're gonna be okay."

You nod, and offer a weak smile.

It's enough, for now.

When you arrive at Sam's, the tension doesn't ease. Sam takes one look at the two of you, and immediately detects that something is off.

Obviously, there's the matter of Walker. But he sees that there's something different too.

Just what the hell did you and Bucky get yourselves into?

Bucky and Sam exchange a look – one loaded with frustration – before Bucky finally speaks. "We can't let Walker carry that shield, Sam. Before Steve left, he – "

Sam sighs, shaking his head. "He hinted at wanting to pass the mantle on to you or me – "

Bucky intervenes, "It should be you."

" – but... it's out of our hands, Buck. The government's already made their decision."

The words hit Bucky like a punch. You stay quiet, your mind whirring. You're thinking about Steve again – Bucky can see it.

Something settles in the pit of his stomach. It's nasty and unwelcome, and it makes him want to reach for you and shake Steve out of your thoughts.

He wants to tell you that he's here, and Steve isn't.

He's jealous.

Great, Bucky groans internally, I'm jealous of a damn ghost.

Sam watches the two of you for a moment, sensing the tension. "We'll figure something out. But for now, we have to let this play out. I've got other things on my plate right now."

"What is it?" you finally speak up, concern evident in your tone. "Anything we can do to help?"

"I've been hearing talk about this group. They call themselves the Flag Smashers. I can show you guys the briefing. They're out there right now, and they're not gonna wait for us to get our act together."

"We're coming with you," Bucky says, his voice steady and unflinching.

"Non-negotiable," you confirm, smirking, stepping closer to Bucky as a show of unity.

Sam hesitates, arms crossed as if weighing his options, then his gaze lingers on Bucky's neck. Then slowly – too slowly – he glances at you.

That's when he finally catches on.

The look on his face is almost comical, his eyes widening as he clocks the similar, telltale mark at the crook of your neck.

"Oh, man. Really?"

You feel your cheeks heat instantly as Sam's smirk grows wider.

"What? It's not – " you try to speak, but Sam's having none of it.

"No, no, no. This explains a lot. Like, a lot." He's grinning now, shaking his head like he's finally in on the joke. "I mean, all this weird energy... I thought y'all we're just mad about Walker, but now I get it. Shoulda known. It makes a lot of sense, the two of you."

You glance at Bucky, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere but in that room.

"It's not like that," you mutter defensively, even though it's pointless with Sam.

"Sure, sure," Sam says, failing to suppress a chuckle. "You two just happened to get the same exact bruise in the same exact spot. Must have been a hell of a battle, huh?"

Bucky just scowls, though his ears are tinged pink. "So are you going to brief us or what?"

"Nah, man, you're good. So, what's the plan? You gonna take on the Flag Smashers like it's some couples' retreat?"

You sigh. "We're helping. That's it. This conversation is over."

"Okay, okay," Sam raises both hands in surrender, but he doesn't miss the chance to land another jab. "You're in. But maybe leave the hickeys for after the mission, yeah?"

"Shut up, Wilson," Bucky grumbles. Then he mutters under his breath, as Sam walks away to retrieve the files – "No promises."

You shoot him a look that lets him know you heard him, and he meets your gaze coolly. He wanted you to hear.

You feel a bit lighter – it's the effect he has on you.

Even though chaos has set back in your reality, and even though you're not quite sure where things stand between you and Bucky, there's one thing you know for sure – you're going into this together.

Non-negotiable.

taglist (let me know in the comments if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx @mrsevans90 @heartarianagran @tinystarfishgalaxy @mochibochinochi @spngingerbread21 @zbeez-outlet @rena15 @raging-panda @marveldaydreamer @integers @imthebadguyyy @iidear @blackhawkfanatic @smhnxdiii @nommingonfood @loki-laufeyson68 @queenofshinigamis @samkickikc @utterlyhopeful-fics @mthealy @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @cloudroomblog @haruvalentine4321 @pommblog @yujyujj @thetorturedbuckydepartment @sanoorie1 @cjand10 @micasaessakusa @croftyspock90 @froobaloob @mavrellover91 @dexter99 @barnes70stark @ordelixx @radiantdanvers @chaotic-wanda @mrsnikstan (continued in comments...)

Some notes in the margins...

Stevie boy's coming back! With Hunter!! I guess you can say he'll actually give Bucky something to be jealous about. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Judging by the results of this poll, yous are heavily pro-Bucky. Can't blame ya. But is he endgame?

What do you think will happen when they're all back together in the next part? 🙃

[ovaryacted]

COMPLICATED

─ Javier Peña x fem! reader || WC: 3.2k

SYNOPSIS: You begin to realize Javier's position at the DEA is putting a wedge in your marriage. It was only a matter of time before everything you've built crumbled once you reached your breaking point.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. ANGST. Established relationship. Javier & Reader are Married. Marriage problems. Arguments & Confrontation. Thoughts of slapping Javi. Mentions to prior sex & intimacy. Javier is falling apart. Self-sabotage. Mentions of religion/faith. Mentions of the DEA & Javi's job. Both Javi & Reader are in Colombia. Reader's occupation is unknown. Spanish dialogue between Javi & Reader. Please proceed with caution if relationship issues/arguments/possible DV are a sensitive topic for you.

Disclaimer: I have not watched Narcos yet. This is all just my interpretation of another aspect of Javier Peña’s character. Therefore, it is not strict to the canon or details of the show.

A/N: I wrote this for @almostfoxglove's Angst Challenge for August and got Javier Peña, so this is what I came up with! I will admit, I rewrote this fic twice because my initial outline changed halfway, so I started from scratch and got this. It is angsty, and I do want to mention that this is a different take on Javier P., because I personally do not characterize him this way but I ventured out of the norm and put him through situations (I love him a lot though). Anyways, I hope you all enjoy. Reblogs, comments, and likes are always greatly appreciated! <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

You waited for him, the same way you always did.

Sitting on the couch and staring idly at the TV screen, you tried your hardest to find something to occupy your mind again. The cigarette comfortably sat between the index and middle fingers of your left hand, the weight of the two golden bands on your ring finger enticed you to take another drag.

You always hated how much Javier smoked. The stress from working at the DEA compelled him to go through two packs weekly, an ashtray present in every room of your quaint apartment, probably another on his desk at work. You didn’t predict there would come a time when you’d consider yourself a smoker, much less of cigarettes, despite recalling the multiple times you reminded your husband of how bad they were for his health.

“Those things will kill you before your job does, Javi.”

The irony in your words, a hypocrite of your own making.

You don’t blame him for not listening, either. Now you think you get the appeal of going through the cancer sticks one by one. You crave the high of the nicotine rushing through your veins with every inhale and relieving your jumpy nerves. The peace you’d feel for a few minutes was the only tranquility you could get in the hectic mess of your crumbling life.

You wish you knew how things got to this point.

The years blended throughout your relationship with the charismatic Javier Peña, a fine man you bumped into on your way home and accidentally sent all your groceries falling to the ground. Apologies poured out of your mouth repeatedly, and he bent down to help you clean up your mess, offering to cover the expenses of the ruined food you just bought with a faint smile.

The curl of his lips and the sparkle in his brown eyes bewitched you from the start, and you took the money he offered in your palm before he walked off, your sight trailing down on the cocky sway of his hips and the broadness of his back.

He dwelled in your mind like a phantom, haunting you in your dreams and inhabiting your senses. You didn’t anticipate to bump into him two weeks later while running errands, the smug look on his face at the sight of reencountering you so quickly didn’t go unnoticed. It was a simple conversation, a brief introduction followed by an offer for drinks when you both had time with reassurance that you would meet him under better circumstances.

The rest was history.

Sure, you knew Javier was a busy man, always on the run due to his highly demanding job you didn’t initially know of. From how he carried himself, you gathered he was associated with law enforcement, not from Colombia naturally, but perhaps the United States. You didn’t suppose he’d be affiliated with the federal government of all things, and the thought of what he was doing in the country worried you the first few months of being with him.

But all of your apprehensions about his professional occupation went out the window when you got into bed with him, limbs tangling into the sheets, and hushed promises whispered sweetly in your ear. All you cared about were the words he’d say as he took you every which way, claimed you his all over his apartment when you’d meet him late at night after a stressful work day.

That was the most intimate you knew him, in the throes of passion in which he seemed to be an expert. His hands strung your body with ease, pulling on the invisible red string that connected the two of you whenever his fingers wandered between your thighs. He drank every moan and cry of his name, hips moving against you so reverently others would mistake you for a place of worship.

It was a matter of time before dates turned to sleepovers, and your stay in his life became more permanent when you moved in with him. You didn’t object when he got down on one knee and popped the question you’d been waiting to hear after a year, jumping in your heels with a broad smile and tears streaming down your cheeks once he slipped the ring over your finger.

You never got the wedding you dreamed of since you were little, and you didn’t go on the honeymoon he promised you due to his prior commitments. Instead, you settled on going to a courthouse when you briefly visited Javi’s home in Texas and stayed in his government-covered apartment while in Colombia.

The signs of stress were there from the beginning of the relationship, but the rose-tinted shades you wore were a perfect fit. To you, ignorance was bliss, and you refused to pop whatever abstract bubble you found yourself trapped in with the man you’ve come to know as your partner.

You stuck by him when he needed you most, never opposing him when he sought after you for solace following the close calls he had while chasing down Escobar’s men. You kept your mouth shut when you saw him cleaning up the wounds he hid from you, locking the bathroom door behind him to avoid worrying you to such an extent. You didn’t utter a word when he started coming home later and wouldn’t give you notice, blaming the job and the intricacies of the caseload he was assigned to manage.

“I’m sorry. It’ll get better.”

You wanted to believe him, to think that somehow the craziness that was happening with the business of narcotics in Colombia would be slowing down, and your life would go back to normal, the way it should be. That way of life was gone. Sometimes, you think you’ve never had it to begin with.

You didn’t ask for this. Neither one of you did.

The disconnect between you grew after another close call on a raid, causing your first full-blown argument. The aftermath resulted in harsh kisses and bruises on your thighs from when Javi fucked you hard against the wall, holding you tightly as you scratched down his back. The subsequent times were like that; you could only communicate with him when your bodies engaged in the best way they knew how. All the pent-up frustration was released when he was inside you, groaning apologies and curse words as he filled you to the brim over and over, and you took it with a smile of forgiveness.

At some point along the way, there was no more fun to this game of tension you’ve created to ignore the elephant in the room. Not after the bickering turned into disagreements, your pillowcase growing wet with suppressed tears after a yelling match. The touches turned fleeting, the nights were lonely, and the animosity that wedged itself in your marriage thrived in the dismissive regard you both held for one another.

Your touch burned him more often than not; the last time he caressed you with care was lost to the ravages of his anxiety. All that remained was the past, the memories that you shared before shit hit the fan, and frankly, you don’t think you could take any more of this torture.

The other side of your bed stayed messy and cold, barely catching him when he left in the mornings for work. The caseloads kept piling on, the raids got more personal and farther from home, and the cycle continued to repeat itself. There wasn’t an end in sight, not soon anyway.

Stuck in your thoughts, you missed the instant the front door opened and closed, stubbing out your cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table. You glanced over to see Javier stepping through the entryway, peeling his leather jacket off and tossing it to the side while holding your gaze momentarily.

“You’re still awake?” Javier asked you, hinting an edge to his voice as he spoke to you.

“Hello to you too,” you responded calmly, asserting your tone. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d wait for you.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Somehow, the faux concern made you chuckle dryly, watching him walk past you to head right for the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and leaving his back turned to you.

“And what else do you need me to stop doing?”

Your question forced Javier to pivot and face you, his glass sat on the counter as you observed him. Keeping your distance, you stood on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the archway and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Tell me. What else do you need me to stop doing, Javier?”

He remembers when you only called him by signature terms of endearment. Baby. Honey. Amorcito; he particularly loved that one. Now, you addressed him by his first name as if it were its own curse word.

“What the fuck do you mean?” he raised an eyebrow as you continued to speak, malice brewing inside as you itched to say the things you’ve kept bottled up.

“It seems you want me to stop everything. You don’t even come home anymore. I forget you live here sometimes,” you said, trying to be sarcastic, but your words were as sincere as they were hurtful.

“I do come home when I can. It’s been busy at w-”

“Work. It’s always about work and your fucking job. Work this, work that. Do you ever get tired of making excuses for yourself?” His eyes narrowed, staring you down as his body became rigid.

“Do you think me going out there every day chasing down these fucking pendejos is a godamn excuse? No estás pensando con claridad.”

“Oh, I’m the one that lacks sense. That’s rich coming from you.” You started to laugh, standing straighter and looking at your spouse vexingly. “You don’t think going down this goose chase with your head cut off to catch Escobar is crazy? Te has vuelto loco, Javi.”

“I do this for you. For us.” You know he’s trying to convince himself of this lie more than you.

“There is no us if you’re not here! You haven’t been here for months! I don’t know shit about you anymore, and this job has turned you into a different person.”

It was wrong to raise your voice at him; the previous quarrels usually passed through intense conversations, and he’d walk out the door to leave you for the rest of the night, but it was never this intense. You think this time would be the dreaded catalyst you’ve prolonged to avoid, and there was no turning back.

“You knew what you were getting into when we started dating. I told you what I do for work, I told you how this was going to be. It’s not fucking easy. You know this.” He took another sip of his whiskey, gulping it down all at once, hoping the buzz would give him the strength to handle the onslaught of words he knew was coming.

“So now it’s my fault that our relationship is falling apart? What? I should’ve known better than to fall in love with you? Should’ve known better than to marry you?” You were inching closer, your hands flailing around as you spoke exasperatedly.

“Yes. Maybe you should’ve known better.”

The only thing that could be heard in the kitchen was the clink of the ice melting in Javi’s glass, reaching a stalemate as you stared at him in bewilderment and heartbreak. You stepped forward to meet him chest to chest, imagining yourself slapping the words clean out of his mouth. You opted for putting your pointer finger under his chin, the tip of your nail grazing the underside of his jaw as rage washed over you.

“You don’t get to say that to me. Not after everything we’ve been through, everything I gave up to stay here with you in Colombia.”

Tears graced your lash line when he looked at you again, your brows creasing as the mask you’ve worn for so long unraveled. You tried to stay the good wife; you did, but you were getting edged closer and closer to the breaking point. Javier wants to be surprised that you found the audacity to confront him like this, but he knows it was what he deserved. Perhaps he deserved worse for what he’s put you through.

“Why can’t you give this up? Why? You know how this is going to end. I’ll hear from Steve that you didn’t make it back from another assignment or worse. All of this and for what? Help me understand, please.” You begged him to see your pain, hoped to see things as he saw them, to understand why he was going to such great lengths to kill a man at the expense of everything else rotting around him.

“It’s complicated. Everything about this is complicated. The last thing I need is for you to get involved in this mess, too.”

“It’s always complicated with you.” You shrugged with a shake of your head, admitting your defeat.

“I sit here and wait for you to come home, and you don’t. You’d rather be out there, doing god knows what, while I stay and twiddle my fucking thumbs waiting for something to happen,” you looked down to the floor, staring at your feet as the emotions swirled inside you, losing control over the storm of their intensity.

“I don’t complain or say anything when you don’t come home. I get it, this is the job, this is what you have to do. But I don’t see you, Javier. You don’t talk to me, you don’t touch me, or even look at me…I don’t want this for us anymore.”

You didn’t think your words were getting through to Javi anyway as he remained quiet, the stinging bitterness festering before was forgotten and replaced by the dull ache of his heart. Hearing you say this to him hurt in ways grazed bullet wounds and rough tumbles to the ground couldn’t amount to. The self-loathing and anger that’s been building inside him after discovering all the corruption of his job settled in the pit of his stomach, bile rising to the back of his throat at the thought of it. He hated this.

“I don’t want this either. I don’t want to keep hurting you…”

I don’t want to lose you.

“Then why do you still do it?” You presented your left hand to hit his line of sight, gesturing to the two rings you wore, the ones he gave you when he swore to love you for the rest of your life. “Does this mean anything to you?”

It means everything to me. You mean everything to me.

The words were too heavy for him to say, refraining from confessing his true thoughts the way he wanted. His lips were sealed, but his eyes confirmed what you already knew. He was just too cowardly to do or say the right thing himself.

“I love you Javier, I do. So much that it pains me, but this is not a life we should be living. Don’t you want more than this?”

Of course, he wanted more. When he slipped that ring on your finger, he had already envisioned the life he had dreamed of with you. A quiet life somewhere in the countryside, away from all of the noise of the government and countries that were running rampant with issues he shouldn’t be responsible for fixing. He saw the distant future, a kid or two running in the yard while you sat on the porch to watch them, a look of peace on your pretty face as you peeked over at him from across the ranch.

A happy home, a happy life. That was what he wanted, what he prayed for.

Javier despises himself for being unable to amount to his dream for both of you. He’s so wrapped up in this nonsense with the DEA that he’s had tunnel vision so profound he can’t see the light anymore.

“I know you’re not going to stop until all of this is finished, I know that. But I can’t do this anymore. So I’m giving you a choice, the DEA or me.” His eyebrows shot up at the sudden ultimatum you’ve proposed to him, eyes growing wide as he comprehended the hand you’ve forced upon him.

“You can’t make me choose this, that’s not how this works. I can’t just drop everything for you, not now when we’re this close. Don’t do this to me, please…” his hands landed on your shoulders, squeezing them to make you rethink what you said before doing something you may regret.

“I don’t want to do this, but I have to,” your eyes met the brown irises you used to spend hours looking at and admiring, the spark in them long gone. “I can’t stay here and watch you destroy yourself, Javi. I love you too much to witness that. Please don’t put me through that.”

Walking away from him and heading to the bedroom, you knew nothing else was left to say. You couldn’t save him, your love couldn’t save him either, and you thought maybe backing him into a corner would knock some sense that he’s been missing.

As you entered your bathroom to look at your reflection, you heard the front door open and close again, exhaling a shuddering breath. He’ll be outside for the night, maybe stop by a bar and drown his sorrows before going to work again as if nothing happened. Your eyes turned bloodshot as you cried, your hands covering your face to muffle your sobs as you sank to the tiled bathroom floor with your back to the wall. You brought your knees to your chest, comforting yourself and hoping something would come in the form of a miracle.

Maybe you’ll wait for him a little longer. Maybe you’ll leave your ring on the dresser with a letter, find your way back to the United States, and rebuild your life, forgetting all about Javier Peña. Maybe there was nothing left to give, nothing left to save. Maybe you just didn’t know what you were doing, and you went over your head.

You prayed for whatever God existed to give you the strength to persevere through this troubling time. In that silent prayer, you wished for the man you still loved to come back home to you, for him to want a better life for himself and to end this torment he continued to put himself through.

Slipping into the empty bed like you’ve done so many times before, you tucked yourself in the sheets that still smelled like him, glimpsing at the window to count the rays of moonlight that peeked through the curtains to help you doze off.

You dreamed that in the morning, you’d wake up to strong arms wrapped around your waist, apologies and promises muttered alongside kisses to your temple as he reclaimed you as his, the way he used to do before all of this. You desired to give him what he wanted, be the person he needed to show him better and save him from himself. But that was wishful thinking.

The man you knew, the man you loved, wasn’t here anymore, and there was no way you could bring him back.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Spanish Translation: pendejos - idiots, No estás pensando con claridad - you're not thinking clearly, Te has vuelto loco, Javi - You've gone insane/you’re crazy Javi.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

coffee. l Joel Miller

Summary:  jealousy tastes like coffee

Warnings:  angst, but not much, fluff, some swearing, Ellie is annoying; some sexual innuendo for Joel

A/N: be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"This shit is awful!"

"Ellie! Do you have to make everything disgusting to me?"

"It's not my fault! You brought this home yourself. Don't expect me to pretend I like it!" the girl pushed the coffee mug away from her and rested her chin on hand "Where did you even get this?"

You poured the ground coffee out of the small grinder and carefully put it into the old coffee machine that Joel had recently managed to fix. The machine made a quiet humming sound.

"Collin gave it to me." you replied without taking your eyes off the machine "They got it in the last supplies."

"Oh, I see." Ellie sighed, clearly interested "You mean that guy who's making goo-goo eyes at you?"

"Shut up!" you hissed, but you felt your ears go red. "He just likes me."

"Yeah, for sure."

Heavy footsteps on the stairs stopped you from swatting Ellie with the cloth you had in your hand. You were excited, you couldn't wait to see Joel's face when you put a cup of freshly ground coffee in front of him.

"What smells so good?" he mumbled, still slightly hoarse as he entered the kitchen. "Is that coffee?"

The coffee machine spat out the last few drops of the black liquid and you happily put a cup of the steaming drink in front of him. Joel looked at it in surprise. He was still sleepy as he ran his fingers through his hair, making an even bigger mess on his head. His dark eyes widened with interest.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, looking at you with a smile.

"Tell him!" Ellie added quickly, and you gave her a murderous look.

"Tell him what?"

"Shut up, Ellie." you hissed, but Joel was already looking at you suspiciously.

The girl leaned back in her chair slightly, to a safe distance where you couldn't reach her, and grinned.

"Collin gave it to her." she said "You know, the one from the store. His eyes are always glued to her. I think he thought she would make him that coffee in the morning after…."

"You little..."

Joel, who was turning the cup over and over in his hands, slowly put it on the table. Suddenly the cup of coffee became the main problem in your house.

"Joel, don't be ridiculous!" you laughed to hide your embarrassment "You've been saying for days that you dream of coffee. You even fixed the coffee machine!"

"Naah, I don't feel like it." he muttered.

You looked at him in surprise. You felt as if Joel and Ellie were suddenly standing in opposition to you, and the subject of the conflict was the unfortunate coffee. This was crazy!

"Collin isn't hitting on me at all!" you declared, slapping the table with a cloth, and Ellie jumped with excitement "Stop talking nonsense!"

"Last week you got two jars of strawberry jam from him, remember?" Ellie reminded you with satisfaction, Joel nodded.

"Fuck! Seriously?" you looked at Joel reproachfully.

Miller didn't answer your question, only mumbled that he had a job at the stables and left you with Ellie, who seemed delighted with the chaos she caused.

"I think he's jealous." she stated as the door to the house slammed after a few minutes.

The whole day you were not satisfied with your morning conversation in the kitchen. As you could expect such behavior from Ellie, Joel was a grown man. You finished your duties with the intention of talking to him and explaining everything.

Collin was just your friend, you had no deeper feelings for him beyond simple sympathy. And jealousy was nothing normal in this situation. Because why would it appear at all, right?

You entered the stable and from a distance you noticed Joel cleaning the chestnut mare, which he liked very much. The footsteps were clearly audible, but he decided to ignore you, as you thought.

"Hi." you choked out, approaching him. "Do you wanna talk?"

"Not really." he replied, not stopping working.

"Okay, so I'll do the talking." you said "Joel, this is stupid. We can't have quiet days because of a cup of coffee. We're friends, right? Are you going to get all huffy every time I bring something home?"

"Depends if the guy is clingy to you." he replied quietly, and you rolled your eyes.

"Collin is not clingy to me." you pronounced each word clearly, so that he would definitely get it "Are you really going to listen to a teenager! Ellie has been teasing me all morning and you got mad at me like some brat! Are you really jealous?"

"That's not... Fuck! That's not what I mean!"

He finally turned to you and looked you in the face. The eyebrows were furrowed and his body was tense. The whole situation would have been even funny if you weren't both so worked up.

"I don't like it when some guys give you something because then they'll want something in return." he said sharply "That's how it works! Nobody does anything for free."

You folded your arms across your chest and glared at him defiantly. "Really?" you asked. "What did you want from me when you fixed my dresser door, huh?"

"I didn't... Shit! It's not fair and you know it! You know I'd never..."

"Listen, Joel." you said, pointing a warning finger at him. "I didn't say anything when Mrs. Jones asked you to take a look at her electric heater because... How did she say it? She needed a good warm-up." Joel gulped, clearly confused. "Another woman wanted you to replace some boards in her bed and make sure she was safe there. And one of Ellie's teachers..."

"That's enough!" Joel interrupted you, and you could barely hold back a laugh. "I get it! Okay? I made a fool of myself."

He looked a bit like a scolded puppy. You had been friends for a long time and this kind of conversation between you shouldn't have happened at all. There was never a situation where you were the one who got mad at him for doing something for someone.

"That was kind of sweet." You stated, shrugging. "Too bad the coffee got cold."

He nodded. He put down the brush he was using to brush his horse and grabbed the bridle to lead him to his place.

"You know, all those women... Fuck. Do you really think they were flirting with me?"

"Would you like to charge different fees now, Miller?" You snorted. "Yeah, they really were trying to flirt with you."

Joel cleared his throat and closed the stall. He thought about something for a moment, then looked at you and asked.

"Do you have anything I could fix? As compensation for the fact that this whole situation even happened." He said. "Maybe you have something that moves, or is too loose?"

"You know..." you thought for a moment. "Not really. Maybe not moving or loose, but…tight."

"Tight?" he was surprised and for a moment you saw in his eyes as his brain tried to understand your allusion.

You slowly moved towards the exit. "Yeah, Joel. Tight. Something very tight."

You threw him a quick look the moment your words finally sunk in. His eyes widened as he understood.

"Are you flirting with me? Fuck! Stay!"

You left the stable with a wide smile on your lips. Your revenge tasted like coffee.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[l-in-the-light]

The most embarrassing series of posts about Lawlu you will ever read: edition Whole Cake Island (part 12)

Lawlu in Whole Cake Island? There is none! Actually... do we really need Law to be present to analyze it, come to think of it? Luffy is really all we need; to watch his behaviour, things he says, his determination, to guess how Law's influence would show and how partying ways with him (even if temporarily) would impact Luffy.

This is the Alice in Wonderland Arc of One Piece, which means Luffy's main struggle will be to face himself, his own weakness, fears, and maybe even his own self-hatred. Which is why this time it won't be the usual scrutinizing analysis of frame by frame, but instead I will take a deep-dive into Luffy's mind. Are you ready? :D

Luffy starts Whole Cake Island arc in a rush. Because why wouldn't he feel in a rush? There's a wedding to stop! There's a chance they won't make it in time, after all. But... seeing how Zou ended, there's probably one more reason why Luffy is so irritated and wants to get things done as fast as possible... there will be someone waiting for him in Wano, alongside the rest of Luffy's own crew. Luffy could tolerate being seperated from his own crew for two years, but this two weeks trip to Whole Cake Island seems like a torture to him. What changed exactly between timeskip and now? Oh, right, Law got added into the picture ;)

"See? She didn't have any problem with my yeeting!" and I wish he could add "Law also had no trouble after I yeeted us in Dressrosa, you should be more hardboiled like him!", because I swear, this feels like the thing he actually means. And he is right, Law hated being yeeted, but he dealed with it just fine in the end, keeping his clear mind and sense of direction intact.

And then, out of nowhere, Luffy gains an interest in cooking. Luffy, of all people! The very same Luffy who thought a musician is more essential on the crew than a cook!

He even compares Nami's nutritional knowledge to a doctor instead of a cook. For Luffy, a cook is just someone who makes your food look and taste extra great, but it's not neccessary for a kid who grew up in a jungle eating everything the way it comes or simply by roasting it over a fire. So why is he suddenly so interested in cooking?? Is he missing Sanji that much? Is he trying to make his crew miss Sanji so the reunion is more emotional? Good guesses, but they have one flaw: they don't take Luffy's personality enough into account.

Back in East Blue, Luffy agreed to recruit a cook before a musician only because his crew wanted one and also because he's a freaking glutton.

"You guys are really rude, I made this food for you!" now that doesn't fit with Luffy's personality of "I want to eat all the meat". Suddenly, it's for them, hm?

Then he tries his own "kitchen sink curry", spits it out, shouts that's it's inedible and flips the table! Why so mad? Oh yeah, because as we learn soon after, he tried cooking multiple times and it's still something that can't be eaten. He tried so many times that he wasted a stock of food they had that was supposed to last them for a week, for all of them! And it's all gone in one day.

Luffy's frustration is understandable then, because this is what he considers to be "his best attempt". As we learn from SBS, Luffy's best dish is just a bowl of meat (in other words: pieces of meat put in a bowl lol), which means he would not prepare "curry" or any sort of exquisite dish for himself. He indeed did this dish with others in mind. He would be more likely to just roast whatever he caught and shove it towards them, asking "you want some?", if it was only about him.

Despite his constant failures, he's still not getting discouraged and wants to learn how to cook edible things for people to enjoy. Nami though stops him and tells him "to never go into the kitchen again", ouch. They have been starving for days as the result of Luffy's "cooking attempts" and Luffy almost lost his life as the result (eating poisonous skin of a fish they finally caught), so her reaction is understandable. But this should make us realize that Luffy, thanks to this whole (mis)adventure, understands Sanji better without even realizing it. After all, Sanji was also told to "never cook again" by his father.

But I think this adventure has one more meaning. Whole Cake Island is basically a tale about the good and bad sides of food industry, but also how food creates connections between people. And I think XxXholic covered the latter part better than I could ever put in words, so forgive me for the unexpected crossover here. You don't need to know XxXholic, its plot or characters to be able to follow the quotes, they also don't spoil anything from the plot, so don't worry. We're just following one of the many, many side characters there.

First of all, if you want to repay a debt or show your gratitude, the best way is to offer food and good drink. And the best way to do it, is to offer stuff you cooked yourself, because they require your own time and effort, and include your feelings (of gratitude and love) for the person you cooked it for. If someone does you a favour, it's a good idea to say "thanks" by preparing a dish they like, for example.

"I would like to cook with you and then eat it together. And then I would really like to know more about you. And for you to learn about me, as well" says the protagonist to one of his clients. Cooking together is a big thing because it creates an equal, mutual bond: you get to know me, I get to know you, and we can both try to become better at cooking together, but also better people for each other as well. Because by cooking we learn more about what the other person likes and dislikes, but also about their personality: their usual way of problem solving, about their patience, flexibility, stubborness, ability to learn etc. Your prefered way of cooking can also reflect your personality this way and you try to offer your best through a dish you put a lot of effort to make, for someone to enjoy.

You can learn a lot about yourself as well through cooking. If you compare your own cooking to someone else's, you can realize your own personality traits you wished you would have never noticed (for example impatience, like Luffy flipping the table in anger: even Nami called him out on it, Sanji would not approve of that action!). You might also realize that someone preparing food for you did it with lots of feelings, of kindness and love, and that's why that food tastes good. And if in comparison your own food is terrible, bland, without flavour or personality, it just shows you don't really share your own love with the world through the act of cooking. In Luffy's case up there, his food was so terrible (though definitely full of his personality lol) despite him putting in his best effort and feelings. How did it make him feel about himself? Perhaps like he has nothing good to offer to people he loves? But his final reaction is always this: try to be better and do better!

Luffy offering his failed attempts to his crew serves the same purpose: he's offering them what he has, even if the result is disgusting. But this is the kind of person Luffy is at the moment and he has nothing better to offer!

The sidestory in XxXholic has a happy ending, the struggle continues on and the woman's significant other supports her efforts and says they will wait for as long as it takes. Now, what does that have to do with One Piece? The reason this woman couldn't cook something that would taste good wasn't because she's clumsy, or didn't put any effort in or lacked knowledge (she actually studied cooking like it's an university subject, it clearly mattered a lot to her!).

What she lacked in the end was love, not for others, but for herself. She hated herself so much that she believed anything she would do would turn out bad (which is exactly what happened over and over), almost like she was subconsciously self-sabotaging her own efforts. And since she didn't have love for herself she had nothing to give to others either, despite caring for them and being so grateful to people who loved her the way she is, imperfect, disbelieving in her own worth, broken. She just didn't feel like she has anything to offer to all the great people around her.

Sounds familiar?

"What can you do?" Arlong asks Luffy. "You can't do anything, you're a disgrace as a captain". And Luffy proceeds to say he has great people who support him (which means he does not think of himself as great, he knows he lacks in so many ways), but there is one, just one thing he can do for them back: it's to beat up people like Arlong.

And yet despite that, in Whole Cake Island, Luffy attempts to do what he literally can't do: to cook. He knows he can't do it, but he tries it anyway, knowing very well what the end result will be. It's not that he lost his mind. We mustn't forget why he's doing a stealthy mission on WCI. It's exactly because he can't do what he usually does: beat up Big Mom. He promised he won't do it. But what *can* he do then? It's his struggle to become better and get out of his comfort zone, and he starts that from attempting cooking. It won't be the first or last time that he will fight against himself in this arc, even denying things he had the most confidence in. This is the arc in which Luffy loses the sight of what he can and can't do, and needs to come up with a new answer or rediscover the one he already had all along. This is Luffy in a crisis.

Now is that related to Luffy being seperated from Law and dealing badly with it? Or Luffy realizing how much he knows Law has faith in him and he wants to live up to it? Because like we established before, Luffy is doing this stealthy attempt only for the sake of his alliance with Law, he would not bother usually and would just destroy Big Mom because she's in his way. I can only imagine Luffy's inner struggle when he tries to come up with a new solution here but can't get any, nothing works out if he just can't beat up the bad guy and move on. Luffy's later refusal to eat anything that isn't Sanji's cooking, not even the syrup rain, must reflect how Luffy feels about himself in this moment: he feels pathetic and useless and he must hate himself for it.

There's one more angle to it. Luffy suspiciously wants to cook as fast as they're seperated from Law. He thinks nutritional knowledge is something a doctor does and he's impressed with it. Law is a doctor. It's not a stretch to think that Luffy wants to learn something new to impress his favourite person upon return. It's highly likely he wants to cook for Law as well (and he's using his crew for taste-testing for now), because he has feelings of love and gratitude he wants to convey to him, but he doesn't know how to do it. But Luffy always had Sanji who used his cooking exactly for that: to show his feelings of love for people (and was very vocal about it!). Luffy is just trying to do the same, but he realized he can't do it no matter what. By the end of the arc he comes back to terms with himself and finds the old truth again: he will leave the cooking to Sanji and rely on his crew. He can try to be a better person in other ways, but he will keep on searching for a way to show love and gratitude to them.

And we will not talk about Luffy suddenly remembering people smooch each other and talking about it in context of Sanji's wedding, uhum. If that's on his mind all of a sudden when it wasn't even once for last 80 volumes, then you can guess why it suddenly would be. People who love and care for each other smooch, so maybe he was considering... things...

Another odd thing Luffy does, which is to check on the map and comments, frowning "it's weird". He has a point, because we learn later it was a deliberate trap. But he's paying attention here because he tries to be useful and does things he usually wouldn't be doing. Just like with cooking.

Same here. It's probably the first moment in which Luffy realizes that having a longterm plan would be actually a good thing. Yeah, Luffy of all people. That's because he must be thinking "if it was Law, he would definitely have one". I feel like other people were pointing it out to Luffy before, but it's the first time he actually shows that he kinda cares and isn't answering with "I'm just here for the adventure. And become a king of the pirates, no plans included!".

Look here. This is Luffy in a crisis. "I have to get back and I'll destroy everything in my way if I have to!" Not only he's not supposed to destroy everything or beat up Big Mom, which he points out a moment later, but Luffy is clear here, he made his decision: if he can't go back, he will simply get rid of everything on his way. Getting back is the most important thing, everything else be damned.

Except... are we really talking about Sanji here? Get back where, Luffy? To Wano perhaps, where your crew and Law will be waiting?

"I'm not going to die in a place like this!!", "I made him a promise, but it's not here!!". I'm just saying, this applies both to Sanji and the promise Luffy made "to meet up in Wano". And if he wants to get back no matter what, it's because he knows he can't die here, he can't force a certain someone to go through a big loss again. He would rather tear off his arms than not return at all and break his promise.

And we get Sanji with his "I didn't tell you to wait..." and Luffy just laughs in reply. This particular laugh he used only once before, btw, and I don't recall anywhere else:

When he was telling Zoro how much he's worrying about Sanji. Because why wouldn't Luffy know that Zoro and Sanji are the most important people for each other? Zoro is his best friend and his first crewmate, Luffy just knows what's in his heart, the same way that Zoro probably knows who is so important for Luffy as well.

Do you still think Luffy-Sanji scene was *only* about Luffy and Sanji? That the whole promise talk was only about Sanji? And not two particular people waiting for both of them in Wano? It was always about both reasons.

Luffy says he can't be the king of the pirates without Sanji. And demands that Sanji says how he really feels (which is "to go back on Sunny" ❤). Imagine if Luffy said both of those lines to Usopp in Water 7. Maybe a lot of the conflict could have been avoided. Especially if Luffy would also follow his very own advice, because he was not saying his true feelings in the quarrel with Usopp. What changed since Water 7 in Luffy? A lot, actually. Ace, timeskip, Dressrosa, Law... All those things are huge milestones in Luffy's development. But there's also the promise he made. He promised Zoro his crew to bring Sanji back. And that promise also changed everything.

WCI is also the first arc in which Luffy says he is ready to drop everything, even his own dream, and go save whoever needs to be saved for his crew's sake. It's very ironic how in this scene he also needs to struggle against himself, this time with his enormous hunger, that seems to sabotage his ironclad determination. For once Luffy doesn't do things for food and that despite the whole arc being exactly about food. That's how serious he is.

Now we have to talk about the alliance with Bege. Here is Luffy's initial reaction: "what an awful person", "Bege is gonna get it!". He does not like Bege at all, he also wants to punch him for what Bege did to Pekoms. In other words, Luffy doesn't think Bege is a good person, at all.

But just a moment later, when Jimbei tells him "you should work together with Bege", Luffy changes his mind immediately. He's all up for this alliance. His crew, that has been with Luffy the longest (Nami and Sanji) can't believe their ears. What an interesting change, isn't it? Like I argued at the beginning of this post, Luffy has to do things differently this time instead of doing what he usually does. The problem is, he's not good at anything else than "beating the main bad guy". That's why in this case he's determined to do something he would usually never do. And forgive me for the callback again to XxXholic, because I can't resist:

Luffy has the same idea as the protagonist here. "This is all I can do", and "if this person was with me, they would be able to find a better way". In other words, Luffy agreed to this alliance because he thinks this is something Law would do as well. Luffy is constantly wondering in Whole Cake Island how Law would handle the situation and he knows he can't come even close to his level, but at least he will try to follow in his footsteps.

Of course Luffy wants at first to punch Bege for Pekoms. He's still trying to make this alliance a friendship, and if he hits Bege then they will be even, so they can try becoming friends. That's basically the idea.

But he doesn't get to do that and in the end, Luffy agrees to alliance based on "common goal" or "allignment of interest". He did not become friends with Bege in the process and didn't make things even between them. This proves Luffy knows what an alliance is and it's not friendship. I wouldn't say this means Luffy finally learned what an actual alliance is (though it's tempting, ngl). I would rather say he always knew that, but he chose to make it a point that whatever he has with Law, is friendship firstmost, alliance second.

And here is Luffy listening to Bege's plan. He's trying, okay. Not his fault he's constantly getting distracted, sidetracked and overfocused on making a silly entrance party trick (jumping out of the wedding cake). Bege is just not Law, and Luffy's tiktok's level span of attention is struggling here, heh. Also please notice Luffy's unusual focus on the smooching lol.

Oh, so that's Luffy's idea for the wedding surprise. He just wanted to do ninja's shadow clonining trick, definitely inspired by Raizou's show in Zou.

Coincidentally, that's the technique that was Law's request and made Law so damn impressed. Yeah, this is for sure a coincidence, that Luffy chose to do it like that, even though he didn't really have to have multiple copies of himself here to make it work. I bet he just thought "if Law would be here, that would impress him, I'm sure!" and I bet he's looking forward to telling him all about this adventure later on and seeing his face.

But it was essenstial for his plan to create chaos! He didn't do it just for fun! Are you sure? Because it was Brook who hid himself in the midst and did the deed with Mother Carmel's photo frame, and Luffy did not tell him to do this. Luffy simply wanted to be cool, okay, he didn't think that far ahead. He was supposed to cause chaos, he delivered.

And in his fight with Katakuri, Luffy is the one who has to have faith. Law had his faith moment in Dressrosa, now it's Luffy's turn.

Luffy found his answer about what he can do and how to become a better person for someone. It's to master his observation haki. Which, coincidentally, is Law's forte.

Luffy's curious, very strict words to Jimbei. "Don't let even death stop you, we'll be waiting in Wano!" It's basically Luffy's own promise he made before leaving Zou, just said in more deadly serious manner. That's because his experience in Whole Cake Island made him realize it himself: he will go back to Wano and not even death can stop him from achieving that. Because he promised that to Law people.

I'm sure for Law this would be indeed the most important thing, not to lose anyone ever again, especially Luffy who he (miraculously) managed to save all the way back in Marineford. I don't know how Luffy knows this or if he knows at all about Law's deepest fear, but he's determined not to die on him, that's for sure.

This is also the first big seperation for Luffy and Law. Luffy deals with it, treating everything like an adventure to tell Law later so it feels like Law is there with him even though he's not. But also treats it like a challenge, to become a better and stronger person so he won't disappoint him.

Still convinced there was no Lawlu in WCI? Oh well, if that's the case then all I can say is: I tried my best :D

If anyone wants to read all the parts of this series without going to my masterpost, then just click "love is a hurricane" tag :3

[yallthemwitches]

Catch the Wind Ch. 16: Doing Wrong

I'm posting this ahead of AO3 because I know it will probably be controversial and I would love some feedback. Look at me gifting scandalous things for my birthday. Very NSFW.

Read the rest of the story here.

James Potter always knew when he had done something wrong. Of course, it never stopped him, but he was well acquainted with the thick rush of cold that fell over his body when he realized he had done something that would irreversibly change a certain aspect of his life. When he realized he had, in short, fucked up. 

He first felt it as a child when he decided to play with his dad’s potion ingredients, leaving the house smelling of charred hair and skin for a week. And again, when he and Sirius had followed an unsuspecting Remus one full moon night in second year just to find an adolescent werewolf who didn’t know the difference between friend and food. Most of all, he had definitely felt that way after he had hoisted Snape up by the lake in fifth year, punctuated fully by the look of hatred on Lily’s face.

This time was starting to feel like one of those times.

He trudged after Lily. Her hair swung against her exposed back as she walked and James couldn’t help but let his teenage brain take over a second to remark on how the last time he had looked at her backside, he was leaving kisses down her spine before a final languorous kiss between her legs.

She didn’t turn back to look at him, but he could tell she was tense. It was the way she held her shoulders, straight and higher than normal. He had seen it a million times, both directed at him and not, and even that felt irresistible. He felt the urge to reach for her, kiss her body until the tension shuddered away. At least under the current circumstances, he knew better than to act on impulse.

He attempted to draft some sort of apology in his head that would acquit him of the complete arsehole behavior he had displayed at the party. If he was going to be really honest with himself, and subsequently to her, he knew he couldn’t apologize because there was no part of him that regretted what he had done. He felt bad for embarrassing her, but definitely not sorry. 

Maybe if the two of them had talked about the quidditch pitch incident earlier, he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did— but that rang untrue too. He knew going in he would never be able to look at Slughorn or any of the Slytherin team again without those words flashing before his eyes, searing an unimaginable hatred that edged on murderous. Moodblood fucker, Blood Traiter. 

Now feeling a shot of pure hatred seep through his bones, he realized that they were lucky he hadn’t done anything worse than ruin the party with a few words. He had never wanted to use dark magic against someone before, not even when it had been used against him with Snape, but fuck if he did now. Perhaps there was where the true problem lay: he was never going to enter this night with any civility. 

Lily turned the corner of the dungeon corridor and made for the steps that led back up into the first floor of the castle. He figured she was leading them back to the dorms or Head’s office where she could properly scream at him for his brash behavior. For a split second, the horrible flash of losing Lily over this plagued his thoughts, that he had shown her he was capable of being the same James she hated back in fifth year. If that was true, then he would actually be sorry. 

She stopped at the foot of the steps and turned quickly to face him, her chest still as though holding her breath. Her eyes were bright and wide, and even from his distance away from her he knew he had seen that look before but for some reason was having a difficult time placing it. He wondered if he even wanted to place it. Despite it all, she looked absolutely perfect.

He opened his mouth to speak, but then abandoned the action. Even knee deep in shit, he found himself being distracted by her. The deep V in her dress let the curve of her breasts peak out and become accentuated in the firelight of the dungeon torches. Her left leg, exposed from the cut of her dress, calling for him to run his hand over it, just like he had done hours before. 

He tried to clear his head, to focus, to get in the game, to feel bad. He pushed to speak again, but she moved to talk and for once he was thankful to be silenced. 

“You are going to listen to me, because you have talked too much already tonight.” 

She was freakishly still. Her eyes bore into him and once again he struggled to place the emotion behind the gaze. His gut told him the look was similar to that day with Snape at the lake, but even that didn’t fully grasp it. There was something deeper, more primal than he was used to. Despite the growing terror filling his stomach, he knew whatever it was, it was completely unfiltered.

He wanted to close his eyes, brace for impact. He knew what was coming, like all the other times he had ever fucked up. All tragedies must end in a sacrifice, whether that was a death, loss or an act of retribution. The blade was being raised, and it was his neck waiting for the fall.

“I am going to suck you off right here, right now in this hallway until you come.”

It certainly felt like a blow to the head, positive he was suffering from a panic induced hallucination. He watched as she took another step towards him, feeling unstable. Now closer, the look in her eyes was finally taking form. There was anger, sure, but more than that there was hunger. It was the look of an animal about to kill their prey.

She continued, not giving James a moment to cut in. 

“I’m going to make you come inside my mouth and then when you have recovered, you are going to fuck me as hard as you ever have–”

Fuck fuck fuck. He definitely heard that correctly. His mind was going fuzzy and the world spun around him. She had hands on him now, pulling at the buttons of his robes,continuing to speak in a plain, composed voice, as she would talking about the weather or patrol schedules. 

“---and when you have fucked me until I don’t even know my own name or what year it is anymore, you are going to take me upstairs to your bedroom, and do it again–”

He didn’t know when his shirt had come off, but her hands were now yanking at his belt, ripping at it so hard he half wondered if she would take out a belt loop. “Holy shit, holy merlin, christ, god, whoever.”

“And before you ask, I don’t care if your stupid friends are in there. I don’t care if they stay or go or even fucking join in. You are going to take me in there and pound me into your mattress until even a silencing spell won’t stop the rest of this godforsaken castle from hearing me scream for you.”

James felt like his soul had left his body and he was now watching reality unfold completely severed from himself. He wondered if he had died, if the party had actually gone worse than he thought and killing curses had been thrown. It felt like there was no explanation, no fucking magnificent reasoning as to why Lily had now sunk to her knees in the middle of a very public, very open corridor with his pants unzipped. All it would take was one of the non-slytherin students to go back to their dorms for someone to see them—and maybe that was exactly what she wanted. The thought alone made him want to come before they even started.

“Oh fuck, Oh Evans, Oh Baby.” Lily smiled, but at the use of her surname or the use of the new pet name, he wasn’t completely sure. His eyesight was failing him, now only able to make out the red of her hair and the brilliant green of her eyes that stared up at him while she yanked his pants down further to release him out of his clothes. She curved her flat palm against the base of his cock, and he let out a strangled gasp, surging back into reality. 

“I’m going to last five seconds, Evans. Holy shit—I didn’t realize you—I thought—Oh fuck.”

His eyesight came back to him just in time to watch Lily cock an eyebrow. Her lips were pursed with amusement, face just inches away from his weeping head. 

“You thought what, baby?” She threw the pet name back at him and it made his cock twitch. “You thought my knickers haven't been completely soaked through since the night began?”

Lily took the hand that was sliding up his leg and snaked it under the slit of her dress. She pulled the fabric back so he could see the tiny strip of lace that she was using as knickers and with no preamble slipped one finger, then another between her legs. She kept her eyes locked on his face as she pulled her now drenched fingers out and raised them to her lips. 

“See?” She ran her tongue slowly over her own arousal, taking the fingers into her mouth and making a point to hollow out her cheeks as she sucked. James nearly doubled over. His cock was now leaking significantly, and he knew all it would take was a second of her mouth to make him implode. 

“Fuck, Christ fuck Evans—-let me taste.” 

“Later. You are listening to me, remember?” 

Merlin—-shit.

For a second, James considered knocking her back onto the ground and taking her right there. It wouldn’t have been his first act of disobedience that night. Lily must have seen the look in his eye because she wasted no more time torturing him, grabbing his arse with her still wet hand and pushed his cock fully into her mouth. 

The noise James made bounced off the cavernous walls of the corridor. A deep animalistic noise that felt reminiscent of his stag form. She swirled her tongue around his tip, using her hand on his bum to guide him until he grasped what exactly she wanted him to do: thrust into her mouth.

Pushing through the haze, he grasped onto her hair harder than he had ever allowed himself and with her rhythm moved his hips back and forth with the motion of her mouth sliding over him. It felt completely unlawful to feel as good as it did, like some higher being would come down from the heavens to smite him for feeling like this. She kept her eyes locked on his face, watching as his own focused on the movement of his cock entering and exiting her lips. Words spilled out of him completely of their own accord, stringing together a weak commentary of the ecstasy he was feeling inside. 

“You are so beautiful. No one has ever made me feel this way and fuck no one ever will—the amount of times I’ve imagined you on your knees like this—and it was shit in comparison to how you look now—”

Lily moaned around his cock, sending a shock through his body. She took one long lick on his tip before removing her mouth for a moment, making James groan from the loss of her warm throat. Her lips were gleaming and swollen in the firelight.

“Come for me baby. Come in my mouth and let me swallow every last drop of you. Come so loud those fucking pricks at the party can hear how good I make you feel, then you can do whatever you want to me because I’m yours.”

What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? 

She took him in totality into her mouth again and slid her tongue just under his shaft. His body was trembling, he could feel his climax fast approaching as words continued to tumble out of his mouth. Fuck, just like that, oh baby, oh Lily—-there.

“Come for me, Potter.” She didn’t even remove him from her mouth to say it. She lifted a hand to cup his balls and the world bottomed out. He tried as hard as he could to keep his eyes open, watching her eyes watch him as he let out a deep vibrating sigh that echoed through the corridor down into the dungeons. Legs giving out, he keeled over to balance himself on her. 

He spilled into her mouth and he watched as she swallowed without hesitation, using her tongue to lap around him to make sure nothing was missed. When she finally released him, a pleased smile painted on her face, he sank to his knees, taking her tongue immediately in between his teeth.

“Are you fucking joking? How am I supposed to live now, Evans? How am I supposed to do fucking anything now knowing you could be doing that to me.”

He clawed the thigh cut in her dress and she didn’t stop him. He found the sad excuse for knickers as soaked if not more than when she had tasted herself earlier and slipped two fingers into her immediately, making her melt into him. Her whole body folded into his, head finding the crook of his shoulder and biting down. 

“Ah--James.” She choked out just before he curled his fingers in the way he knew would make her gasp. “You’ve ruined me, fucking ruined me with your hand alone—-ever since this summer—-.”

He circled his thumb on her clit, making her gasp further into his collarbone. His other hand pushed into the V of her dress, pulling her breast just enough for the soft pink of her tit to escape the fabric. He suctioned himself on it, wrapping his other arm around her waist to keep her stable as he continued to pulse his fingers inside her. She was so wet, more than he thought was possible for a woman to be. It surged his ego. He did that. He did that to her. 

“James—baby, christ.” He continued his work in practiced rhythm. The sound of his hand slipping in and out of her was downright pornographic, seeming loud enough for the entire dungeon to hear. 

Lily pushed her forehead into the crux of his shoulder, alternating from biting down to babbling affirmations. 

“Please James.” She bit back down and he let out a groan.

“Yes baby, beg for me. Beg me to make you come and then I’ll do it again with my cock. I’ll do whatever you want, I’m yours.”

In response, she bucked her hips. Pushing his fingers farther into her. At this point, his hand was nearly soaked. He could feel her tightening around him now, her body aching for release. 

“Baby, I’m so close.”

Later, when thinking over that moment, he was shocked he didn’t miss it entirely. A noise, a soft thump of a shoe on stone somehow made it over the endless cries and moans Lily spilled out into his ear. James’ eyes shot up to look past her shoulder, careful to keep his pace inside her. 

At first it was hard to concentrate, but as his eyes focused, the silhouette of Snape’s body became more defined in the darkness of the corridor. He stood deadly still, hand outstretched and wand pointing directly at where James still had his own hand working Lily nearly to orgasm. 

When he would think back on it the next day, he couldn’t pinpoint why he made the decision he did. Perhaps it was because he had no idea where his wand was, presumably lost in his dress robes which had been torn aside long ago. Or, perhaps it was because, deep down, he knew that Snape wouldn’t do anything. But mostly, and worse of all, he knew it was because he wanted him to see. 

In total, it couldn’t have been more than seconds. Snape never moved, hand and wand poised but inactive. His eyes were wide, unblinking. James continued to stare over Lily’s shoulder, miraculously never faltering his tempo inside her as her hips continued to push into him. She moved faster, harder, continuing to beg him for release. 

He hated how much he loved that she was falling apart for him and Snape was witnessing it.

He ignored the feeling in his stomach that told him he was doing something wrong and continued to zero in on him, contracting his fingers inside her, knowing exactly what game he was playing at and that he was fucking good at it. 

He made sure his eyes were saying everything he couldn’t. Watch me make her come Snivellus. Watch as I do the thing you have only wanked your slimy prick off to in your dreams. Remember how she screams my name and let it haunt you for the rest of your decrepit life.

He wasn’t proud of it, but in the moment, it was the greatest revenge he could imagine. 

Lily’s hips bucked against his hand and he could feel her body start to quiver. Keeping his eyes on Snape, he turned his head slightly to brush his lips with her ear. 

“Come for me baby. Come on my hand—let me feel it. Then I’ll taste it just like you want. Come Lily, Come.”

Lily reached her arms around him, grabbing at his hair and tugging at the roots. James fought to keep his eyes locked with Snape, but saw no change of expression. Snape might as well have been petrified. 

He lightly circled his thumb on her clit then plunged his fingers into her as far as his knuckle. She fell apart. 

“Fuck. James James James—-” 

The sound of his name awakened something in Snape. His face scrunched into a look of abject horror and he recoiled backwards. A second later, he disappeared back around the corner towards the party from which he came. 

If it was wrong, then why did it feel so good. 

Lily collapsed in his arms and he allowed himself to fall back into a seat on the ground. He kissed the lingering moans that fell from her mouth and pet her hair which now shrouded her face like a halo. 

“Holy Shit.” She pulled away from him and her eyes glowed in the aftermath, lips and cheeks rosy. 

James ducked to kiss her, unable to resist before cradling her back into his chest. He knew that letting Snape see them was not going to go unpunished. At that very second, he could be rounding up some of his death eater mates to come and take the action he was unable to do alone. For a second he wondered if Lily had even noticed that they had gotten an audience, but if she did, she didn’t show it.

Instead, Lily began redoubling her efforts. He could feel her hand reaching back for his cock which had easily rebounded after coming inside her mouth. She curled around it and the world started to blink away again. It was so tempting to stay in that corridor and finish what she had originally proposed…

For once that day, he needed to make the correct choice, but he wasn’t going to like it. 

“The party is going to be done soon—” 

It wasn’t convincing. Even as he said it, Lily stroked him gently, licking at the bite marks she had left on his neck during her orgasm.

“---As much as I’d love, and I mean love, for everyone to know how well I fuck you—”

Lily snorted under her breath. “Arrogant.”

“I think I’d rather get us somewhere more comfortable where I can finally taste you properly without being interrupted–.”

Lily’s hand stalled on his cock. He could practically hear the cogs moving in her head. 

“---then after you come in my mouth, only then will I—how did you put it— pound you into my mattress–”

He could hear Lily’s breath becoming shallow again. Admittedly, he wasn’t doing much better, feeling less and less inclined to make it upstairs as he spoke. 

“---and will continue to do so until you can barely walk to classes tomorrow.`’

Consider her convinced. In all honesty, he didn’t know how they made it from the dungeons all the way back to the tower. It all seemed a big blur of running and laughing and pushing each other against walls to continue snogging before moving on. 

All of the questions of the day took a backseat to the utmost want that completely enveloped them. Even after coming once, Lily was still ravenous for him, making their trip back up to the dorms that much harder. He wondered if she had ever actually been angry at what he had said at the party, or if it had just made her completely randy. He shelved the question for another time. 

To his awe, Lily completely kept to her word about the dorms portion of the evening. Without even consulting him on how to proceed, she swung open the door of the marauders room and pulled him to her for a kiss. Peter was the only one there and almost fell off his bed at the sight of them, eyes like globes as Lily pulled James by his shirt towards his bed.  

“I have some unfinished business with your mate, Pettigrew, so I suggest you get out or close your curtains.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice. He scurried out of the room, more like a rat than James had seen him act in human form. He knew he was going to have to answer for it later from the rest of his mates, but the thought was cut short by Lily letting her dress fall to her ankles before Peter had even gotten the door closed.

“Marry me Evans. Either marry me or kill me now.”

Lily walked slowly over to his bed, looking over her shoulder once she reached the bedpost. Her knickers didn’t cover a shred of her bum, practically useless. 

“Fuck me first.”

He couldn’t argue with that. He pushed her onto her stomach, not even caring to close the curtains around them. He trusted Peter would make sure the word was out to the rest of the lads.

“How do you want me? Whatever you want, baby, whatever.”

Rather than turning onto her back like they had become so accustomed to, she remained on all fours, looking back at him. For the first time that evening, a wave of timidness crossed her face, flushing her back and cheeks.

“---do you want to try something new?”

Fuck Fuck Fuck He steadied himself on the post of the bed. Even from the back, he could see that she was dripping from earlier. He wasted no time taking off his clothes and joining her on his knees behind her. 

“You are so beautiful, fuck it’s embarrassing what you do to me.” 

This was new territory for him. Really, all of it was if he was being honest. In the beginning of sixth year, he had dated a Ravenclaw a year older, Maelle Fraser, who had taken his virginity. She had been fun and was the kind of person any bloke would want to experience sex with for the first time, but now being with Lily, the memory of Maelle paled in comparison. Other girls he fooled around with became repetitive, mundane, as though sex was just something in his routine. With Lily, it felt like a miracle each time. He was insatiable, he wanted her all day and night in any way she would let him, much less choose how to take her. When they were together he felt in awe of her, he wanted to worship her, keep her in bed for days on end just to kiss every part of her body and then some. He loved her, and there was no amount of time or way to show that enough. 

He couldn’t imagine loving her more than right that moment, with her on her hands and knees begging for him, but he knew tomorrow there would come something else, then something else the day after that that would make him feel just the same—like his love for her was endless and ever shifting. 

He put a hand on the small of her back and pushed softly, inviting her to lower her chest to the mattress while her arse stayed up. Cheek pressed into the quilt, she looked at him, eyes blown out and mouth swollen. 

“Please,” it came out more as a whisper. The dominant, ravenous Lily that had sucked him off in the hallway earlier was floating away, and the Lily he was more accustomed to was taking over. Not submissive by any stretch, but more prone to coax and beg rather than to tear pleasure from him. 

James moved himself back a little bit, grabbing both sides of her ass in his hands and lowered himself to be eye level with her center. It wasn’t hyperbolic, she was dripping. The inside of her thighs sleek with her own arousal.

“You owe me a taste.”

He flicked out his tongue and ran it from the back of her folds to her clit, making sure to dip inside her as he passed. The moan she emitted was a revelation. A sound James knew he would spend the rest of his life chasing as often as possible. Her hands grasped the quilt for support. 

“Fuck, James—that feels incredible. Don’t stop.”

He repeated his movement, this time adding slightly more pressure and she answered again with the same moan. The new angle made it harder to reach her clit, but seemed to bring her a new sensation to the rest of her body. With every new cry, his cock ached, threatening to release before he wanted. 

“Fuck Lily, I’m sorry, I need to be inside you. I’m not gonna last long as it is.”

Lily just moaned in response. He pulled back, letting Lily readjust herself back up on hands and knees, holding herself onto the headboard. When she looked back at him in anticipation, he could see she was already close to the edge. He needed no further invitation.

Since fifth year he used to fantasize about her exactly like this: in his dorm room naked, screaming his name while he thrusted into her from behind, her body trembling for release. The thought used to make him come so fast in his hand for years—the secret solution for when he needed to make quick work of himself. 

 It turned out, the reality of it was so much better. The new angle hit a spot inside her that made her shudder almost immediately and she bowed to the feeling, pressing her forehead firmly into the headboard for stability. He was mesmerized by the new vantage point in which he disappeared inside her, the advantage of holding onto her arse and reaching around to touch her clit, feeling her shake from his weight. Still, he was torn by the desire to savor the new sensations her muscles made on his cock or to give her what she wanted: to fuck her hard and fast.

She made the decision for him. 

“Harder. Please.”

He couldn’t argue with that. He pushed deeper, feeling her body pulse around him. He sped up with force, now pushing into her with the majority of his strength. He would have worried about hurting her if she wasn’t making the most delicious sounds that had ever been put to auditory frequency. He felt his orgasm mounting with each thrust forward, feeling too much pleasure to care. 

“Baby come for me, I need you to come because I can’t hold it much longer.”

But she was already there. She gripped the headboard and threw her head back, hair falling around her shoulders, arching her whole backside. He could feel her whole body tighten around him and the sensation broke him entirely. He released into her fast and hard and she moaned at the feeling of his ejaculation, shaking slightly before collapsing fully onto the mattress. He followed suit, laying himself lightly over half of her body, and their legs curled together, sweaty and spent. 

“I love you.” He whispered it into her back, still breathless. He meant it, just like all the other times. She was everything to him at once, loving, fierce, comforting, but an incredible force all the same. 

“I’m sorry if I upset you at the party—but maybe I’m not if this was the result.” 

Lily chuckled under him. 

“I love you too. We can talk about the party later, but first I think you promised me another round.”

He couldn’t believe his luck. 

*****

Despite being the most tired he quite possibly had ever been in his life, James had to be the happiest bloke alive. His mates had never come back to the dorm that night, and they had been smart not to. James wasn’t quite the best with time, but he knew that it still had been dark when he took her again with him standing on the side of the bed, then a bit lighter when she had ambushed him out of the loo, leaving them on a heap on the ground in the middle of the room. By the time full sunlight came in through the windows, he was lazily pushing into her while spooning on their sides, sleep fighting its way into their movements. 

He almost convinced her to skive off potions for one more cheeky go about before they could finally sleep, but ever the perfect Head Girl, she yanked herself from his arms and slouched herself out the door, looking the definition of well shagged. 

“God please at the very least tell me you didn’t shag on my bed—though if you did, we might need to unpack that.”

James grumbled. He had just started to drift off to sleep, wishing he could still feel Lily’s heart beating against him when Sirius had been the first to brave his way into the dorm. 

“So I take it Pete told you.”

Sirius snorted. “More like Pete cowered in the common room like he saw a boggart. The poor bloke will probably need therapy after what you and Evans put him through. What did you even do?”

“Everything. Not enough. Never enough.”

“Aw c’mon he didn’t even see anything—.”

“ Evidently, He saw plenty.”

A moment of clarity startled him. In all their romping around, he had almost forgotten. The image of Snape with his wand poised, completely still, surged to the forefront of his mind. That icy feeling of regret started to pour its way down his veins. 

 Did she know Snape had been there? And if she didn't, how could he tell her? What does one even say in that scenario? Oh darling, by the way, while you were shagging me senseless your disgustingly bigoted ex-mate who has wanted to fuck you since he knew his prick existed watched you come—and I let him, because I wanted to shove it in his face. 

Maybe he was still the James Lily had loathed in fifth year.

“Sirius, I messed up.”

“Judging by the way Evans looked walking out of the tower this morning, I’d say you did pretty well for yourself actually.”

James felt a smile twitch on his face, conjuring up the image of Lily that morning. Fuck his thick, egotistical, teenage mind. 

He pushed on. “No mate—I, kinda—look you have to promise me you aren’t going to judge me.”

Sirius crossed his arms behind his head, looking more smug than normal. 

“Can’t wait.”

“I might have—merlin it sounds so fucked—Snape might have seen Lily and I shagging last night–-and I didn’t stop him…or I guess us—meaning the shagging.”

There was silence. 

“Lily doesn’t know— at least I don’t think—she was, er, indisposed.”

Another silence. Sirius brow furrowed. He opened his mouth and closed it multiple times before finally choosing his words. 

“What the fuck?”

Sirius was sitting up now. Eyes bright. His face jumped from twitching to laugh to a confused, twisted frown. 

“Like because you were…into it?”

A zap of disgust. 

“What? No mate, because–,” James felt his voice falter. Time to admit his ego. Time to admit the gross part of him he didn’t want even Sirius to see. “---Because I wanted him to see she was mine. It’s awful I know—”

Sirius burst out laughing. The sound made James' head hurt even more than the fatigue. 

“Wow, thank fucking merlin. And here I was feeling jealous that I wasn’t your first choice for a third in your weird kinky shit—.”

James shot up in bed, using all of his energy to glare at his mate. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you—god, no—and I thought the truth was bad.”

He expected Sirius to keep laughing, but something sobered him up quicker than was usually his habit. James eyed his mate and could see that something was worming its way inside of Sirius’ usually impenetrable amusement. 

“Prongs, joking aside, you know that he wants her right?”

No one had ever put it into words for him before. Of course James knew that Snape fancied Lily. Even if she was oblivious to it, he had caught on early enough to make it one of the sole reasons he loathed him so much. How many years had he watched Lily go to him, be closer to him than he could ever dream…and then what? Turn against her, treat her like dirt just because he wanted to feel power for once in his pathetic little life, thinking even after all that she could still love him. 

“Obviously.”

“No, I mean like I think he really wants her.”

James sat up. He couldn’t tell if Sirius was taking the piss out of him or not. If so, it was a serious allegation, even for Snape. 

“You are going to need to elaborate for me.”

Sirius sat up as well, now sitting across from James. 

“I wish I could—I promised her I wouldn’t.”

A flash of jealousy. Maybe not because Lily and Sirius had secrets between them, but because Sirius was loyal enough to her to keep them. Keep them even from him. 

“---Besides, I can’t be certain—honestly I could be just making this shit up—but that bloke is no good around her, mate. Hopefully your little ego boost will make him leave her alone, but something tells me it won’t.”

James didn’t know what to think. His fatigue was making him woozy and he wished he had never even tried to tackle the subject in such a state.Part of him wanted to shake more information out of Sirius, but he knew nothing would come of it. Mostly, he wanted Lily back in his arms, back where he knew she was safe, now worried about whatever waited for her outside his grasp. He had hurt her, she might not know it yet, but he had potentially endangered her for what he had done or not done. That was inexcusable.In the back of his mind, the twist of Snape’s face continued to stare back at him, stare back at them. He started to feel sick.

“Look mate, if you want my advice: Don’t stoop to his level. Just because Snape wants to own her, doesn’t mean you have to.”

Sirius probably didn’t mean for it to come as such a blow as it did, but it hit nonetheless. It was the blade crashing down. His own egotistical, arrogant self coming back to haunt him, haunt the halo of trust he had built around himself and Lily. The person he loved. 

The night ending in tragedy after all.

[justafriend-ql]

This is the problem I will face for the rest of my life. NEVER LET ME GO Episode 10

[wonder-worker]

people really do not know what they're talking about when it comes to Elizabeth Woodville's social status, huh?

[gideonisms]

Astral projects myself into a future that's better so I can have any motivation whatsoever to improve my life rather than continuing to girlrot in a sexy fashion ♥️

[cogentranting]

So far at least (two seasons in), one thing I think Rebels does better than Clone Wars is respecting the power level of previously established characters. the thing that annoyed me most when I started Clone Wars was how easily Ahsoka was able to keep pace with Anakin and Obi Wan and go up against characters like Grevious and Dooku and... not die. Right from the start as a 14 year old who'd just become an apprentice she felt too skilled.

But with Kanan and Ezra there are clear limitations. Ezra starts out very unskilled, and both of them struggle against the inquisitors. As opposed to Ahsoka who deals with both Inquisitors by herself relatively easily. Ahsoka was further in her training than Kanan and was trained by some of the best Jedi. She should be better than Kanan.

And even more so, both Kanan and Ezra are NO match for Vader which is essential. They can't be able to go up against him a bunch of times and walk away or it breaks the story. So even though it must be tempting to put Vader in the show more, they hold back on him (in a way that Clone Wars really should have done more with Dooku).

[sheliesshattered]

I think my tastes must just vary wildly from most people's, but I feel like the last several fanfics I've read have gone on for five or six chapters too many. I'll take an open-ended happy ending over wading through 15k+ words of a dense cloud of cotton candy overly sweet denouement in which every aspect of their perfect life together is explained in excruciating detail, and pet-names and 'I love you's are exchanged every other paragraph

[suncaptor]

there's something specifically inside my head that is closing up that makes trusting anything so hard. i have to manually keep my mind open to the potential of anything being significant. i am so used to things being bad and things hurting and things not working and being powerless that it takes an exorbitant amount of mental energy to make sure I don't let myself shut down possibility. and I do it because I never want a certainty inside of me besides love to rule anything. but I want my brain elastic again. i want it open like breathing. it doesn't erase the unfairness or the critique or any of the bitter-built philosophy.

[sovonight]

,

[friendofthecrows]

Wish I had more of that stereotypical "refined genius psychopath mystery villain" vibes and less "dysfunctional no sleep cycle can't tell when/if they have emotions traumatized mess doesn't feel like a human paranoid future true crime psychopath" vibes. So that was word salad. Moving on.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[birbtails]

.