#This painting is some time old but only now did I edit this. Months later still obsessed <-INSANE

[the-sweater-lodge]

My headphones at 6AM in Boardbot HQ:

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello Steph! I was wondering if you have some Johnlock song fics? It doesn't matter what kind of song heheh

thanks and remember to take care of yourself, Hug! 💖

Hey Nonny!

Ahhh, I get asked this a few times! I never have anything really significant though, LOL, at least not in the "classic song fic" sense from MY early fandom days ("song fics" used to be fics written with the lyrics to the song inspiring each section of a fic, now I think it just means "fics inspired by whole songs"). Here are the ones I know of, from my knowledge and from the above linked tag :)

EDIT: I did a tag search on my offline lists, because I should stop being so lazy, so here you are, now I have a list! :D Thank you!!

As usual, feel free to add your own, friends!

And thank you for your kind words :)

-----

SONG FICS

See Also:

Moulin Rouge AU (Mine)

Song Fics (Alexx's List)

BOOKMARKS

Evermore by SosoHolmesWatson (G, 2,068 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4, 5-Year-Old Rosie, Love Confessions, Song Fic, Parentlock, Oblivious John, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Disney Songs, Beauty and the Beast) – For the past years, John and Sherlock have lived at Baker Street again, raising Rosie together--as friends and nothing more. Ever since the little girl has watched her first Disney movie, she is obsessed with princesses. When John comes home one day, he finds his friend and his daughter in the middle of a reenactment of her current favourite. Part 1 of Made of Music

Engaged by lifeonmars (NR, 3,146 w., 1 Ch. || Marriage Proposal, Fluff, Holmes Family, Song Fic) – Sherlock did not believe in marriage, but he wanted to be married. He found this something of a surprise. Part 2 of Damage

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

Sunday Evening 6 p.m. by Silvergirl (E, 30,712 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF / TEH Divergence, Grief / Mourning / Stages of Grief, Mutual Pining, Dreams, Reunion, Love Confessions, First Kiss / Time, Alternating First Person POV, Smart John, BAMF Boys, Emotional Love Making, Song Fic, Referenced Suicide, First Kiss / Time, Touching, Sleepy Sherlock, Blow Job, Villain Mary) – Six months after Sherlock jumped, he learns that John is dedicating songs to him on a requests-only radio programme. Is John just working through grief? Or is he—communicating? Fixes the hell out of S3 by pre-empting it altogether. Remember, as TAB told us, John is Pretty Damn Smart.

The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w., 23 Ch. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) –Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school's Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

MARKED FOR LATER

To John - love SH , how me met by Tha_shipper_Burning_void (NR, 315 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Angst, Song Fic) – John nor Sherlock knew of each other – Sherlock rich and John poor – but John believe someone was out there for him.

Satisfied by VTsuion (G, 1,067 w., 1 Ch. || ACD Canon || Watson’s Wedding, Toasting, Song Fic, Past Relationship, POV Sherlock) – Watson is getting married, but he will never be satisfied. Holmes will never be satisfied.

All Along There Was Some Invisible String (Tying You To Me) by Biana_Amberly_Vacker (G, 1,145 w., 1 Ch.. || Fantasy AU || Bullying, Holmes Family, Autistic Mycroft, Family Dynamics, Angst, Song Fic) – Mycroft is alone. He decides to make himself a brother. Out of wood.

Clarity by tea_and_violins (M, 1,606 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Angst, Reunion, Song Fic, Slash) – A one shot/song fic inspired by Clarity by Zedd ft. Foxes. Have a listen before or during :)

(They Tell You) Wake Up, Go Put On Your Makeup, This Is Just A Phase You’re Gonna Outgrow by Biana_Amberly_Vacker (T, 1,738 w., 1 Ch. || Trans Sherlock, Song Fic, Transphobia, Self-Harm, Hurt No Comfort) – Sherlock was always a boy. Even in his traitorous body. This is a story, throughout a childhood, of a boy who everyone thought was a girl.

Take me to Baker Street by MorganeUK (G, 2,087 w., 1 Ch. || Adult Ballet AU || Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Doctor John, Song Fic, Pre-Slash) – I always loved Sergei Polunin interpretation of Take me to the church so I decided to write a version where Sherlock is a ballet dancer in serious need of a doctor…

The Very Thought of You by reveling_in_mayhem (T, 2,386 w., 1 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Song Fic, Kitchen Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff) – John and Sherlock have danced before. For a case and for a wedding. But they've never danced like this. So why is John reaching out his hand for Sherlock's now?

Body Language by CeruleanDarkangelis (T, 2,706 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Dancing, Song Fic, POV First Person John, Voyeurism, Dirty Dancing, Clubbing) – There is a language to dancing; a call-and-response from one body to another. Even with the poncy kind of dancing I knew he was versed in, the kind that requires classes and counting and rules, there is communication between bodies. Watching him now, I’m more than pleased to discover that he understands my dialect as well. Part 1 of the Without Words series

Jukebox by standbygo (T, 3,990 w., 1 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Music, Singing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Humour) – After the music halls of Sherlock's mind palace get damaged by accident, John learns that Sherlock never forgets a song. Even the ones he'd rather forget. But the random singalong brings some unexpected benefits.

Blame it on My Youth by standbygo (M, 4,151 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement, First Kiss, Declarations of Love, Song Fic) – “Courage doesn’t mean you’re not afraid. It’s knowing that you’re afraid, and doing what you need to do anyway.” Sherlock and John are retired, but receive an unexpected client. Part 10 of the November 2014 Song Challenge series

Lights On by SosoHolmesWatson (T, 4,396 w., 1 Ch || Post-S4, First Kiss, Pining Idiots, Angst with Happy Ending, Song Fic, Love Confessions, Dev. Rel., Emotional Repression, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock and John are living together again but things between them are far from okay. John is out of his depth until a song brings the needed epiphany. Part 2 of the Made of Music

Rumbos Secretos by Ceibos (T, 5,991 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock || Argentinian Spanish, First Kiss, POV John, Internalized Homophobia, Song Fic, Military, Autism Spectrum) – AU en el que Sherlock y John son dos jovenes alumnos de la UBA en los 90´s o Sherlock ayuda a John a estudiar para su parcial de anatomía y pasan cosas.

Dirty by standbygo (E, 5,093 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, PWP, Dirty Dancing, Romance, Smut and Fluff) – “Yeah, I actually learned how to dance like that, like in the film. I was quite the hit at parties while the craze lasted. Some of Harry’s friends called me Johnny Castle, after the character. Or Swayze.” “Swayze? What kind of word is that?” John did not reply, but gazed at Sherlock, his lips pressed together but still smiling. After a moment, he stood and held out his hand to Sherlock. “Dance with me,” John said.

Take Me To Church by Daziechane (M, 6,370 w., 1 Ch. || Ballet, Song Fic, First Kiss / Time) – John’s days blurred. It didn’t even bother him anymore, that he wasn’t onstage. At least, that’s what he told himself every time he clocked in for another shift. Sherlock’s days blurred. It didn’t even bother him anymore, that he wasn’t onstage. At least, that’s what he told himself every time he stepped into 221B.

Burn by EmilyisSOgay (T, 7,481 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Universe || Jazz Singer John, Alternate First Meeting, First Kiss, Everyone is Gay, Love at First Sight, Falling in Love, Flirty John, Song Fic, Romance, Sexual Tension, Sherlock POV, Sherlock in Love, Jealous Sherlock, Fluff) – John is a seductive jazz singer at small London club. And Sherlock gets a special birthday performance that sets his Mind Palace ablaze.

You Are The Reason by ICanDoThisAllDayy (G, 9,432 w. || Post-TSo3, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Letters, Bisexual John, Song Fic, Heavy Angst) – When Sherlock leaves the envelope for John and Mary at their wedding, he forgets to take out another piece of paper from it - the paper on which he poured his heart out while preparing the Best Man's Speech at 221B Baker Street. He intended to burn the piece right after he finished writing, but he was too exhausted from the emotions and accidentally slipped it amongst his composition for the Waltz. As things work out, somebody reads his letter. That somebody is John Watson. Part 2 of Songs-inspired fic(let)s

A Very Sherlock Musical by flawedamythyst (T, 11,980 w., 1 Ch. || Musical AU || No S3 Compliant {more tags to be added after reading}) – So, you know how musicals are set in a world where people just burst into song every five minutes, and everyone around them automatically knows to join in with the tune and choreography? This fic is set in that world. John finds it extremely frustrating that Sherlock won't sing their theme song with him.

This Is Your Song by agirlsname (E, 79,990 w., 19 Ch. || Moulin Rouge Fusion || Prostitute Sherlock, Poet John, Acting, Singing, Dancing, Writing, Poetry, Musical, Song Fic, Heavy Angst, Unreliable Narrator, Sherlock is French, Love at First Sight, UST, First Kiss/Time, Frottage, Coming in Pants, Anal Sex, Switchlock, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, Terminal Illnesses, Grief/Mourning, Breakup/Makeup Sex, Past Drug Use, Attempted Rape, Canon-Typical Violence)– When John Watson is invalided home from the army in 1895, he moves to Paris to rediscover his writing and find a new meaning in life. His old friend Stamford invites him into a group of artist friends, and suddenly John finds himself auditioning to write a show for the famous brothel across the street. There, he meets the most beautiful man he’s ever seen - Sherlock, the star of the Moulin Rouge. But Sherlock is already promised to the investor of the show, the rich Duke Moriarty.

A Case of Identity – The Musical by shamelessmash (E, 83,147 w., 15 Ch. || 1950′s Hollywood AU || Musical, Case Fic, Undercover as an Actor, Dancing, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, Drugs, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Writer/Director John, Slow Burn / Romance) – A mysterious death on set causes chaos in Stamford productions latest movie. With the premiere date left unchanged, they must find a new lead actor and reshoot an entire movie in two months. Sherlock Holmes goes undercover as a lead actor in a Musical: a juggling act to solve a murder while singing, dancing and charming his way through 1950s Hollywood. The last thing he expected was to fall in love with the screenwriter along the way. Or as I like to call it: the case where Sherlock finally gets to dance. Based off this prompt.

To the Sticking Place by blueink3 (E, 121,973 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Musical Theatre AU || Showmance, Friends to Lovers, Bickering, UST / RST, Fluff, Virgin Sherlock, BAMF John, New York City / Broadway) – Renowned Shakespearean actor Sherlock Holmes has finally burned all of his bridges in the theatre industry save for his constant director, Greg Lestrade. John Watson has made a name for himself in the musical theatre circuit, but age and injury are working against him. Can they reinvent themselves for an all-male Macbeth without killing one another? Part 1 of the Screw Your Courage series

[bucklemonster2]

My Doppelganger (A Story) (Nederlands beneden)

My Doppelganger by Emilia Sameyn

29/04/2024

ENGLISH: (dutch below, nederlands beneden)

Apparently, I have a doppelganger. In fact I had two. So, you know what? I'm gonna tell you about my experiences with doppelgangers. First, in medieval times having a doppelganger was seen as an omen of death. I'm not sure what the logic is behind this. Are you seeing your future self from the 'de''ath realm'? Is it implying that your doppelganger is going to k''ill you and take your place? Anyway, I remember when I first saw someone's doppelganger, besides twins that is.

The first time I saw a doppelganger was when my grandma had recently died. Yet, I saw her,

riding a bus as if nothing ever happened, minding her own business. It was quite confusing, but logically I knew it was just an old woman looking like her. Then later in 2017, I was around 23, I was still living as a cismale (normal man), so I did not look particularly different. I remember a girl looking at me weirdly. She asked me if we knew each-other, and if I was from a certain college. I was a bit confused again, it turned out, she thought I was someone else. I had a doppelganger. Anyway, many years later, I slowly discovered I was a woman (or at least agender). Around 2021 I grew my hair, got bangs/ a fringe haircut and I also coloured my hair.

However sometimes people would honk at me, and wave as if they knew who I was, but I did not know them. I wondered is it because I'm trans, or look different with my coloured hair? In 2023 I went to a rock festival called Alcatraz. I did not stay long, I just wanted to see it,

feel the vibe. I had to admit the music was to loud sometimes, and I understand people complain if they still have loud music after 10 PM. Anyhow, again a girl stared at me,

as if she remembered me, but I did not remember her. Normally, I would have taken this opportunity to get to know someone new, but I must have felt tired, and I did not plan to stay that long. The signs were getting clear, but I was still oblivious.

So months later (actually a month or week ago from now). People honked at me again,

making rock-hand signs as if I was some sort of rock-star. I think I ignored it, I'm all for self-expression, but I hate people that honk without reason, being auti'stic as I am lol.

However the signs were there, do I have a doppelganger?

Anyway a week or so ago I went to a meeting with a bunch of people. I mentioned I'm an artist. I draw, paint, write and make music. I mean maybe my music is terrible, but I make it and I have fun making it. Someone asked if I performed live. I politely said no. I make music using my computer (composing and editing), and honestly I can't play music live, or it would at least sound like a drunk toddler playing with an electric piano.

The dude explained he saw someone that just looked like me, a rock star. Well, rock star, I'm not sure if that person is famous. I'm not even sure if that person is male or female. I look androgynous, and so do many rock artists. I should have asked who that singer was, but I somehow forgot. It was only later that all these little moments came back to me, forming one story. All these people honking and making "rock music hand gestures". No wonder they did this. I have a doppelganger rock star running around! Lol Even though I try to have a unique look, sometimes cute and pink, sometimes dark, (often casual out of comfort). Even though I'm trans and have my hair in 3 different colours. Somehow somebody still looks like me! haha!

PS: I'm not accusing anyone of faking me, or stealing my identity or something. I just happen to have a doppelganger, and therefore I am someone's doppelganger. Its a coincidence, a cionkydink.

--- --- --- --- --- ---

NEDERLANDS DUTCH

Mijn DubbelGanger door Emilia Sameyn 29/04/2024 Blijkbaar heb ik een dubbelganger. Sterker nog, ik had er twee. Dus ja, ik ga je vertellen over mijn ervaringen met dubbelgangers. Eerst werd het hebben van een dubbelganger in de middeleeuwen gezien als een voorteken van de dood. Ik weet niet zeker wat de logica hierachter is. Zie jij je toekomstige zelf vanuit het ''do'denrijk''? Impliceert het dat uw dubbelganger u gaat verm''oorden en uw plaats innemen? Hoe dan ook, ik weet nog dat ik voor het eerst iemands dubbelganger zag (afgezien van tweelingen). De eerste keer dat ik een dubbelganger zag, was toen mijn oma onlangs was overleden. Toch zag ik haar, in een bus rijden, alsof er nooit iets aan de hand was, en ze gewoon haar eigen ding deed. Het was behoorlijk verwarrend, maar logischerwijs wist ik dat het gewoon een oude vrouw was die op haar leek. Later in 2017, ik was ongeveer 23, leefde ik nog steeds als een cisman (een normale man), dus ik zag er niet bijzonder anders uit. Ik herinner me een meisje dat raar naar me keek. Ze vroeg of we elkaar kenden en of ik van een bepaald internaat kwam.

Ik was, opnieuw, een beetje in de war. Blijkbaar dacht ze dat ik iemand anders was.

Ik had een dubbelganger. Hoe dan ook, vele jaren later ontdekte ik langzaam dat ik een vrouw was (of in ieder geval agender). Rond 2021 heb ik mijn haar laten groeien, en mijn haar in een froufrou (bangs/fringe) laten knippen. Soms toeterden mensen naar mij en zwaaiden ze alsof zij wisten wie ik was, maar ik kende ze niet. Ik vroeg me af: komt dit doordat ik trans ben, of zie ik er anders uit met mijn gekleurd haar? In 2023 ging ik naar een rockfestival genaamd Alcatraz. Ik bleef niet lang, ik wilde het gewoon eens zien, de sfeer opsnuiven. Ik moet toegeven dat de muziek soms te luid was, en ik begrijp dat inwoners klagen als ze na 22.00 uur nog luide muziek horen. Hoe dan ook, opnieuw staarde een meisje naar mij, alsof ze zich mij herinnerde, maar ik herkende haar niet. Normaal gesproken zou ik van deze gelegenheid gebruik hebben gemaakt om een nieuw iemand te leren kennen, maar ik moet me moe hebben gevoeld en ik was niet van plan lang te blijven. De tekenen werden duidelijk, maar ik was me er nog steeds niet van bewust. Dus maanden later (eigenlijk een maand of week geleden vanaf nu). Mensen toeterden weer naar mij, ze maakten 'rock handgebaren' alsof ik een soort rockster was. Ik denk dat ik het genegeerd heb, ik ben er helemaal voor zelfexpressie, maar ik haat het als mensen toeteren zonder reden, ik ben dan ook een grote au''tist lol. Wat het ook was, de tekenen waren er: heb ik een dubbelganger? Hoe het ook zij, ongeveer een week geleden ging ik met een aantal mensen naar een meeting. Ik zei dat ik een kunstenaar ben. Ik teken, schilder, schrijf en maak muziek. Ik bedoel, misschien is mijn muziek verschrikkelijk, maar ik maak het en ik heb er plezier in.

Iemand vroeg of ik live optrad. Ik zei beleefd nee. Ik maak muziek met behulp van mijn computer (componeren en monteren), en eerlijk gezegd kan ik geen muziek live spelen, anders zou het op zijn minst klinken als een dronken peuter die op een gebroken elektrische piano speelt. De kerel legde uit dat hij iemand zag die precies op mij leek, een rockster. Nu ja, rockster, ik weet niet zeker of die persoon beroemd is. Ik weet niet eens zeker of die persoon man of vrouw is. Ik zie er androgyn uit, en dat geldt ook voor veel rockartiesten. Ik had moeten vragen wie die zanger was, maar op de een of andere manier was ik het vergeten. Pas later kwamen al deze kleine momenten bij me terug en vormden ze één verhaal. Al deze mensen toeterden en maakten "rockmuziek-gebaren". Geen wonder dat ze dit deden. Er loopt een dubbelganger-rockster rond! Lol Ook al probeer ik er uniek uit te zien, soms 'cute en roze', soms donker, (vaak casual uit comfort). Ook al ben ik trans en heb ik mijn haar in 3 verschillende kleuren. Op de één of andere manier lijkt iemand nog steeds op mij! haha! PS: Ik beschuldig niemand ervan mij te vervalsen, of mijn identiteit te stelen of zoiets. Ik heb toevallig een dubbelganger en daarom ben ik iemands dubbelganger. Het is toeval, een cionkydink.

[gmariam19]

Well, it has been six months and things look a little different here! New editing, something called Tumblrmart?? I checked in every so often on the app, but I had to login again on my laptop. So weird.

I never thought I'd leave Tumblr. I suppose I haven't, not really. It's been probably ten years for me hanging out here, maybe more? First with a bit of Harry Potter, then Torchwood and Doctor Who, then Star Wars and Finnpoe, my OTP. 🧡 But now it's been six months since I've posted. Just a lull, I suppose.

I moved. After seventeen years, I moved across the country and started over. And you know what? It's not easy. It's been harder than any other move - I miss my old house and friends and job terribly, even six months later. (Yes, I edited that.)

So that's why I kind of disappeared. We drove twelve hours with a cat and a kid over the summer and bought a lemon of a house and have been trying to settle ever since. You know that movie The Money Pit, where everything goes wrong with the house? That's us. I'd actually move again if it wasn't a total loss. We have so many more things to fix and four frustrating dogs that bark constantly next door. But as my husband says - we are bringing this house back to life and it will be amazing when we do. The rest of our family is only two hours away now instead of multiple states and a plane ride so that's nice - and all that plane fare $ has gone right into the money pit. Hopefully to include a new fence soon. 🤪

Anyway - my time is mostly given to general contracting (painting, landscaping, even fixed my sink today!) but I check for messages if anyone wants to say Hi. I'm sorry I haven't read anything since this summer. And I miss writing terribly but I'd only end up writing about Finn and Poe moving somewhere new and all the problems they encounter with their new house! Thank you to anyone reading and reviewing my fics - getting those notifications always makes me feel good and smile. I'm damn proud of some of those stories! I don't think I've missed any major SW/Finnpoe news but let me know if I did. Kenobi and Andor were fun to watch but I'm looking forward to The Mandalorian even more!

I hope you are all well and that life and fandom are good for everyone! 😊

[finelinevogue]

I love your “little moments” series… I have a weak spot for dad!Harry💕 and I love the relationship between the family’s members 🤗 and I really hope u will continue to update it! And for this series I would like to request Harry doing the 73 questions interview for Vogue and his kids and wife make an appearance (u can choose if the kids are toddlers or teens) and they even answer some questions OR an Howard Stern interview where Harry is asked about his family,maybe the host makes like not so nice-low key shady comments on his wife and on Harry’s daughter coming out story. Ok I’ m done, so sorry ik it’s so long 😅 it’s just I love your series sooo muchhh 🥰🥰 ok I’m done love u have a good day 😘

i’d love to answer this one!! thank you so much for loving my little series💕this one’s for you and for the other request i got which i’m combing with this: “Harry is doing a interview on facetime when his kid crashes the interview.” so pls enjoy and yeah enjoy;

oli - 6, felix - 4, belle - 1

The day had finally arrived for Harry Styles to complete the 73 Questions with Vogue.

It had come to be the promo for ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ and his schedule was booked with interview after interview after interview, and it wasn’t ideal for this to all be happening months whilst also having to look after three meddling toddlers, one of whom had only recently turned 1 years old.

The house was chaos. Fun, but chaos. And it was also the setting of this interview.

“Alright you lot, this way.” You shoved your children along to your living room, giving Harry the space he needed with Joe Sabia - the interviewer.

“Thank you love, see you later.” He blew a kiss to you and returned his focus to Joe. This interview was the first of many and it was also a major marketing ploy. These types of interviews were so highly recommended for Harry to be involved in and Jeff had thought it was about time for him to do one.

Joe had arrived around 15 minutes ago, just to

run over the script and remind Harry of the pre-determined questions - which reminded him of the answers that you’d run through with him the night before. Now the cameras were set up, the mic people were all at stand-by and Joe was ready it was time to begin. The children had been so fascinated by all these new people, after not seeing anyone for months due to the coronavirus pandemic, which is why it took a lot of trouble to get them to shuffle away from their beloved dad.

A fake door knock arose.

“Harry Styles hello!”

“Hi!” Harry waved at the camera.

“I’m here to do the Vogue 73 Questions, shall we get to it?”

“Of course! Come in!” Harry welcomed Joe into the house and shut the door behind him, not trusting his little ones to not escape if they were running wild.

“Beautiful house! Is it your only one?”

“No, but it’s my only one in London.” Harry made a point of not exploiting how many houses he did have and where they were. In fact, you still didn’t know about the Island that he was currently investing in just for you. You were a huge conservation activist and so Harry thought you could spend your free time helping the fragile ecosystem on this island.

“Did you design it yourself?”

“Me and my wife built the plans, but we go the experts to finish it all off.”

“What’s your favourite room?”

“Um, probably the living room.”

“Why?”

“So many of my favourite memories have happened in there.”

“Could you give us some?”

Harry could give loads, but they were far too precious for him to just give away. The living room wasn’t even a massive room, it was quite quaint with a couple of sofas, a logwood fire and then rugs and paintings on the walls. It was a home within a home. It was where Felix had taken his first steps. It was where Oli had spoken his first words. It was where Belle had fallen over for the first time and given herself nasty carpet burn. It was where presents were opened at Christmas. It was where you and Harry had made love next to the fire. It was where Felix and Oli had had their first tiny argument. It was where you spent family nights. If your house was a map then that room marked X the spot.

It was treasure. Priceless.

“My favourite would probably be when my wife, Y/N, spilt red wine all over the new white carpet and then proceeded to throw white wine over the stain because she’d read somewhere that it helps to get rid of it.” Harry chuckled at the memory.

“Did it?”

“No, God no. The carpet’s grey now.”

Joe laughed, as did Harry.

“I have to say Harry, you’re looking very fashionable today who are you wearing?”

“Gucci.” He blushed, because he knew that everyone would’e known that without question. He was wearing a lilac silk shirt with his name embroidered on it - but really it was to symbolise your last name not his - with a white wife-beater shirt and white shorts. He looked rich.

“Shouldn’t have asked really? Is your wife as much a Gucci avid fan?”

“She hates anything expensive. I think she still wears the same jeans she was wearing at university!” He knew you’d hit him later for saying that.

“So she’s a hoarder?”

“God yeah. She keeps everything and anything.” Harry laughed in admiration.

“Has she always been?”

“Always. When we went on our first date, her bag was so full that she couldn’t find her purse and she was so embarrassed because she thought I would think she was taking advantage of who I was. Anyways I did end up paying that night, but she had actually, I don’t know how, sent me money for her portion of the bill. From that moment I knew it was going to be her.”

“Do you write songs about her?

“Every day.” He smiled at the thought of the one he’d written just this morning.

“Which one is your favourite about her?”

“I don’t know about favourite, but the one I hold closest to my heart is probably ‘Fine Line’.” Harry stopped there, not wanting to share the intimate details of why and Joe respected that.

“Do your children have a favourite song of yours?”

“They go crazy for Kiwi and Golden. Belle loves Treat People and Oli knows the dance to that one actually.”

“Did you choreograph the dance for TPWK?”

“Partially, but I had help from my friend Paul and Y/N helped too actually.”

Harry and Joe had now made it through the house, weaving in and out of rooms, until they had made it to the Garden. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to shut the bifold doors to the living room and so as soon as Harry came into focus for your children they immediately ran for him. Oli and Felix could run quite well, but Belle was a lot slower. She was only learning how to walk and so she fell a lot, unless she was being supported by you or Harry. Oli reached his dad first and then Felix, to which Harry knelt down to embrace them in ‘super-dad’ hugs as he liked to call them.

“And who do we have here?” Joe asked.

“Trouble.” Harry replied in jest, but whispered something into his boys ears before backing away.

“Hello i’m Oli.” Oli waved proudly to the camera.

“Hi i’m Fix.” Feliz shied into his dads neck, embarrassed of himself. Harry kissed the back of his head and kept a hold oh him around his back for comfort.

“Fix?” Joe asked at the peculiar name.

“It’s Felix, but he can’t pronounce his own name for some reason so we just call him Fix now. Or Flix. Don’t we buddy?”

“Oh my! I’m so sorry about this!” You ran out in panic, knowing your one job was to keep the kids entertained and away from their dad. At least that was the original plan, but both Harry and Joe like this idea so much more. You were blushing red in embarrassment, picking up a fallen over Belle on your way over to everyone else. “So sorry.”

Belle became restless in your arms, reaching forward for her dad. She whined when she couldn’t quite reach and Harry immediately stood up to take his winging daughter from your arms. As he did, he leant into you and whispered in your ear whilst leaving it a warm kiss behind.

“You’re okay love. Don’t be sorry.”

“Hello Y/N!” Joe spoke.

“Hiya! How are you?”

“I’m great, and you?”

“Peachy.” You laughed, leaning down to collect Felix who was making grabby hands at you. Oli was quite happy standing next to both his parents, one of Harrys hands running through his tiny locks of hair.

“So now we have the family together, how do you feel to all be together?”

You looked to Harry smiled to find him smiling back already at you, knowing you both had a very similar answer. “It feels right. It feels like home.” You answered and Harry nodded in agreement, giving Belle a gentle rock in his arms.

“Are you okay with showing your children’s faces publicly?”

“No we’re not.”

“Looks like we have a hell of a lot of editing to do back at HQ.” Joe laughed, but completely understood the reasoning behind yours two decision. If needed, you could re-film scenes of this interview so that it didn’t include your children. Joe had done his best to keep the camera on you and Harry and luckily the children kept their faces buried in their parents necks anyways. “Is that going to be forever?”

“When they are old enough to decide whether they want to be in the spotlight then we’ll see.” Harry smiled, holding onto Belle tighter because all he wanted to do was keep her protected, and his, forever.

“You two seem like very good parents.” Joe spoke sincerely, and it made you swallow down a sob because it was always really lovely to hear such compliments - knowing you’d struggled with postnatal depression.

“Thank you Joe.” Harry nodded respectfully.

“Okay let’s carry on?”

The interview carried on until Harry had answered so many questions. He redid bits, due the children being too involved and he re-filmed answers to questions he found difficult to answer the first time around. He had such a great experience and was happy with the way that the day turned out.

[tipsydipsydo]

Der Geliebte

Pairing: Jungkook x artist! Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 6.4k 

Rating: 16+

AU: non idol! Jungkook x artist! Reader AU!

Genre: strangers to lovers AU; friends to lovers AU! (idiots to lovers AU!); love at the first sight! AU; soulmate to lovers! AU (kinda?); unbelievable amount of fluff; a little angst (fluffy angst!!,); tiny amount of smut (one paragraph xD)

Warnings: tiny bit of smut/some sexual tension between both of them; Jungkook is a poor shy thing and is fucking nervous around the reader all the time; teeth rotting fluff; both are so in love with each other that they’re getting stupid to not realize it; both are insecure that they’re not meant for another... just fluff, fluff, fluff and painfully obvious pining over each other! 

A/N: Hallelujah, I finally did it! After I made Sibi @borathae​ wait over three months for her Christmas + Birthday Fanfic I finished it two weeks to late for my sweetest Darlings Birthday! I am so incredibly sorry that I made you wait for such a long time and really, Sweetie, you have all the rights to be still mad at my stupid ass! Nevertheless... I love you so goddamn much and I hope the fic made at least a little bit up for it... Love you!!!! 💕 💕 

Summary: You and Jungkook met right at the first day you opened your own atelier in Seoul after you had to leave your old home behind you. You love paint canvas with landscape motives, other people just roll with their eyes when they hear that you choose such usual, almost boring things to paint. Not so Jungkook, he seems to be different than most of visitors. It’s almost like he can read your feelings through your paintings...

Status: Edited (I am sorry for any still existing errors in here!) 

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

* Jungkook’s POV * 

"In what are you getting yourself into, Jungkook?"

 I quietly ask myself as I get rid of my clothes behind the paravent and throw the dressing gown over his body which you laid out for me. My hands are sweaty, they tremble slightly and my heart beats wildly, as if it wants to jump right out of my chest. Excitement spreads throughout my body, leaving a faint feeling in my stomach and a certain blush rises in my cheeks. I still can't believe what I've gotten myself into . But... you looked at me so pleadingly with your dear and downright innocent eyes that I would have done anything for you with that look of yours. I want to make you happy, see that happy and contented smile on your lips, which always makes a whole horde of wild butterflies break out in my belly. 'Normally I was the shyness and silence in person and with you... with her, I feel for the first timesomething like peace and security. Especially when I consider how shy I usually am around women.', I ask myself and I don't really know the answer to that. But what can I do against my feelings? I don't really know, on the one hand they scare me, on the other hand they feel so exciting and new that I don't want to eliminate them at all.

I don't even know exactly when the whole thing started. In which moment my feelings for you grew, when I felt more than just fascination and admiration for you and your artwork. Six months ago, a small studio had opened in my district, your own studio. On the day of the opening I simply went to it of pure curiosity, I had always had such a weakness for art and photography.

I can still remember exactly how I stood in front of one of your works and was literally speechless and overwhelmed by this picture and all his small details. This painting represents a classic image of the countryside, which was often to be found everywhere. But this work was different. So full of small details and ornaments. It was so much more... As a viewer you can see a beautiful clearing, which is surrounded by trees and protected from too many curious eyes. The ground of this clearing is overgrown with dense and lush green grass, which from the incoming sunlight almost invites you to let yourself fall into the grass. It reminds me instantly of my carefree childhood, when I rolled in it without overthinking my actions too much and those times when I playfully wrestled with my best friends around until our clothes had grass stains all everywhere. I could almost smell the scent of wild, untamed nature. The longer I look at the picture, the greater the longing became. Maybe I could visit this beautiful place one day, together with my partner, my significant other. Playing around with each other, chasing your beloved one until you fall into the grass breathless laughing and cuddling. Maybe we could have a picnic there and feed each other with homemade sweets? 

I didn’t know that such a "simple" landscape painting could touch and awaken so much more in me, in my soul. Suddenly, such a wanderlust came over me that I gasped for air and a heavy lump formed in my throat. My whole body was tingling and my heart was literally screaming to get away from this dreadfully grey and monotonous daily routine of my boring single life, for at least some weeks. I want to go to this place, where I could draw the warm and fresh, natural air could deep into my lungs and pamper myself with homemade delicacies. Just to let the soul dangle and don’t stuck with my closely clocked work life. Maybe sleep until 10 o'clock in the morning and then maybe have a nice nap later. Enjoy the warm nights and hear the crickets chirping. This longing was... irrepressible. This particular wanderlust for nature, just to be out of the city, this longing for exactly this abandoned and untouched forest clearing literally overwhelmed me. What was it for an artist who could trigger such feelings and emotions in me?

I had been so absorbed in the artwork that I had not even noticed that a person step next to me. "Do you like the work?", asked a soft melodic voice, which spoke perfect Korean, but was pervaded by a light accent, which I could not quite assign. I flinched a little, but this bright, happy laugh gave me a tingling goosebumps all over my body. What a beautiful laugh... I turned to the person who was the owner of this beautiful voice. I was startled when I realized that the artist and owner of this studio was standing in front of me personally. I recognized her again, as I had seen a small photo of her in the newspaper article that drew my attention to this beautiful studio in the first place. Already in this picture she had radiated something so strong, colorful, cheerful and lively, which caused an excited flutter in my stomach. 

I admit, I already laid an eye on her just by her appearance. Unfortunately I always had a hard time getting to know people ever since, let alone to talk to women. And now having you, Y/N, personally standing right in front of me, made me feel fluffy and excited in my stomach. Nothing is left of this otherwise so sassy and self-confident  man that I used to be. Only a nervous and stodgy twenty-three-year-old idiot, who did not know what to say or wanted to say, now stands in front of this stunningly pretty and intelligent woman.

Her eyes sparkles like jewels, full of joy, struck me with interest and a playful smile lays on her lips. "Did you not understand my question?", she asked kindly, but nobly reserved. Immediately a rosy puff settled on my cheeks and I stuttered nervously: "Y-Yes, excuse me! I... I was just somewhere else with my thoughts and was completely surprised that they were addressing me personally.... Your works are truly unique! They still show such ‘usual’ motifs and yet they are so special because of these finely elaborated details and this passion with which this work of art was painted. They really are... Unique artworks that you do not forget so quickly. Even for untrained eyes as my owns, I can see that a talented artist has worked on it. I am very impressed by your work, especially this work here!" You could hear the honest admiration from my voice and my heart leapt as she reacted bashful to all of my compliments.

"Thank you, really, thank you so much! I really appreciate to hear such nice words like yours, even if it is rare. I am often criticized for my ‘lack of creativity’, caused by my chosen motives. I just love the rough, almost untouched landscapes of my hometown, I try to depict the ‘normal’ as something beautiful, unique. I would like to ‘really see’ what we already take for granted again. As a wonderful creation, a work of art. Nature is a wonderful example of this, or the architecture of buildings as well. Architects are also artists, although unfortunately they are not seen as such. I just want to offer the obvious things a more meaningful space again.... People like you have become rare. I have observed how you have recognized the true meaning, this beauty and aesthetics in such a ‘usual-looking’ motif. And this pleases me so much that you can read 'between the brushstrokes'. Oh... Excuse me, I always talk way too much when someone shows an interest in art or music, my personal passions. Besides that, I have not introduced myself to you yet, I am Y/N! I was obviously so pleased to see your understanding, empathetic look at this work, if you understand what I mean... Anyway... I can guess that you knew my name already, don't you? What about you? May I know your name?", asked you, beautiful artist, with her really stunning smile.

I swallowed nervously, never before had a young lady mixed my emotions so much in me. Even the picture of her in the newspaper article, which I had read out of boredom in one of my lectures, got me so emotionallyconfused. I didn't want to say it in front of my teasing friends, but I had been really excited when I set off this Friday night. And now the creator of these works of art stood before me and seemed to want to have a longer conversation with me. My heart beats to my throat and I got sweaty hands from this nervousness in my poor body. Honestly, as soon as I wasn't surrounded by my clique of friends, I automatically turned into a nervous, slightly abashed blushing and stuttering guy who behave like an inexperienced teenager. 

In private life, without my best mates by the side, I am not so confident and daredevil. After all, I always had someone who could cover my back when things get tough, while I am on my own without anyone I know. You could usually only believe and trust, not control. That's probably why I struggled with interpersonal relationships. I always overthink too much and have some struggles with my self-confidence.

And now this attractive young woman looked at me with such interest and joy, just me. I was actually the reason for her interest. A joyful and blissful tingling seized every pore, every fiber of my body. Yes, in fact it was just me! Not my best buddy Seokjin, whom I have known since childhood and always sought the attention of everyone. It was no exaggeration to say that he was perhaps a little narcissistic, but only to cover up his own insecurities. Never would I have thought that someone would manage to get this personification of self-love under control. I admired his wife for standing up to Seokjin and keeping him and his dad Jokes at bay. Believe it or not, she of all people had the pants on in the house and knew how to deal with my best friend.

My gaze glided over the figure of the person in front of me and once again I took a sharp breath. I was so nervous to face her personally, a person I already deeply admired and had quite a respect for. I simply did not want to do anything wrong, even if this charm of hers was almost tangible and paralyzed my entire brain with its function. I can already picture how my mind waved wildly goodbye to myself and went to the summer holiday in the Caribbean.

This carefree smile and these beautiful eyes harmonized wonderfully with your complexion. Your features were awake and alive, seemingly always a slight smile surrounded the corners of your mouth, which provoked almost paradoxical reactions in my body. Your smile awake countless butterflies to flutter around in my stomach, which made me quite nervous and at the same time you radiated such a sense of security and calm, as if there was no reason not to get a word out of shyness. My gaze, which I hope examined you unobtrusively enough, wandered to your hands. You had long fingers, I could really imagine how they elegantly held the handle of the paint brushes and worked on these small details extensively in such a calm behavior. Which satisfied and concentrated calmness you possibly radiated while doing that...

A small, noble clearing of your throat again tore me out of my fantasies and speculations. God, what was I today but inattentive! How rude I must have seemed to you...

"Oh, sorry... I... I have not been able to keep my thoughts together all day..." I lied to seem at least a little more credible. Nervously, I pulled on the knot of my tie to loosen it up a little before I have a circulatory collapse. Before I went here, I thought for a long time about what I should wear for this occasion. Jeans and T-shirt were out of the question, too casual and almost an insult for your atelier. A complete suit, however, seemed too overdressed to me and so I decided for a black dress pants and a dark blue dress shirt.Understanding, Y/N nodded and gave me a cheering smile, which made my body tingle again. This woman drove me half crazy alone with his friendly gestures. How could it be that this polite lady got me confused right away?!

And somehow, it gave me a frenzy to leave my secure, anonymous side as a visitor to her exhibition and irrevocably reveal my true identity to you.

"My name is Jeon Jungkook."I answered in a slightly trembling voice, hardly daring to look into her eyes and rubbing my neck unobtrusively.

* Jungkook’s POV *

If only I had guessed what would change in me, how you changed me. That so much more would develop from a pure interest and a simple formal business contact... that you want to make me one of your artworks.

I take another deep breath before I dare to step out from behind the dark red paravent. It is pleasantly warm in this room, I should not freeze, if I am already so freely clothed. My gaze wanders through the small room with the huge, floor-to-ceiling window, which floods the entire room with light. The walls of the room have been painted in a dark orange and red colors and dark wooden planks lay out on the floor. It looks so comfortable due to the warm, dark tones. The orange-yellow evening sun dipped everything into something so cozy... sensual. Somehow into even a little erotic?

Y/N wants to work a lot with the light of the evening sun in this painting, which could be a little complicated if it is not suitable or if it is cloud-covered. But if you have put something into your head, especially in relation to your art, then you do everything you can do to go through it! Also the changing forces of nature cannot stop you from trying to realize your idea. Sometimes, you’re  someone who is quickly frustrated and dissatisfied with yourself as well, especially when something doesn't work as  you wants it to. Nevertheless when it comes to your passion, drawing and painting, you don’t let your idea go away, if you want something, you’ll find a way to make it happen. These are qualities that I know all too well of myself and thus my fascination about you only grows even more. The more time we spent together and I get to know more and more sides of you, the more attracted I became to you.

Your art means a lot to you and you’re quite tough in this respect, can not be overcome by the reproaches and the crushing criticism. That’s exactly what I admire so much about you, having the courage to stand up for personal passion. When I get criticized, all too often I think about really giving up on it, so that I don't have to endure all this criticism anymore. And then I look at you. How focused you are in this moment and carefully prepare for your next project. How you adjusts you easel to the right height, let your self-stretched canvas snap into place, spreads brushes of all sizes and shapes on the small side table next to you and prepares youracrylic colours. I swallow again, as I watched this happen. I am about to become one of your next artworks.

A little uncertainly I walk towards Y/N, the thin dressing gown tightly drawn around my body... never before have I felt so naked and vulnerable. This here is something else. I feel something about it... I feel something for you. For this pretty lady, who sprays her cheerfulness around her and could conjure a smile on the lips of even the most grumpy person. This joy almost kills you, completely engrossed this person and gives you the feeling of floating. You will get the feeling of being welcome at Y/N. To be accepted, with all the flaws and weaknesses that one has. She just smiles at you so gently and lovingly and just says, it's okay. It's okay to be the way you are. Imperfect.

"It is precisely this imperfect, this contradictory and also unpredictable thing that makes us human. That makes us an individual and also interesting. If we were really all as we are expected to be, it would be boring and monotonous. The surprise is only a real gift. Each of us is a very individual gift to a very specific addressee, who is the only one who can truly appreciate this gift. Only then did the recipient find the right person as his gift... Well, if the recipient knows about his gift...", Y/N once said with such a certain look at me, when we went out to dinner together in a restaurant in the evening to clarify some details. I wanted to help her find good contacts in Seoul and help her sell her works.

I can still remember it exactly... it was a quite... extraordinary evening. I was of course once again incredibly nervous and excited. At that time, I did not want to fully realize how much I already like you. Secretly, I had observed my opposite. Your positive and friendly disposition had turned my head all around... and in addition, this beautiful body and her elegant fingers, which already haunt me in the most erotic way unintentionally in my dreams. 

I could not prevent my dream pictures from shooting through my head, which is why my cheeks turned dark red in embarrassment. These fucking fantasies in my head! My eyes stare at the cutlery as if it were incredibly interesting because I didn't dare look up. There were scenes in my mind that made my ears turn red and I would’ve loved to hide behind the menu card. Your body, which made her look like a Greek goddess.

Naked, body covered in sweat, your body shook in lust, you sit up with a wonderful moan... You are on top of me, I could admire your beautiful, almost divine body as you sat on top of me... and rode me. This breathtakingly beautiful distorted face of yours, as if all this pleasure you feel is carved in marble... lids closed, your lips, swollen from all the kissing, are slightly opened which let    your lustful whimpering escape. This grace and elegance, as you rose from me and  then lowered yourself again... as your hands glide erratically over my stomach, searching for support... you suddenly threw your head back and clenched even more tightly around my length. The addicting sounds you’ve made... it’s like the most beautiful melody in my ears... squelching noises and even more of yourjuices gushing out of your sweet, so sweet pussy when you came...

An all-too-familiar laugh tore me out of my extremely indecent thoughts, which quite relieved me at first. Until I raised my head and not too far away I recognized no one but my best friend Kim Seokjin, who made very questionable hand signals in my direction. Oh my God, no! I knew that he had recently changed his job and got accepted for a position as a chef in a new restaurant... but not in this Restaurant! He will never let me life after he found out I was on a “Date” with a woman...

Even though Seokjin was on the other side of the restaurant, I could almost feel his smirk on my own skin. Fuck it, just pretend as if you do not know each other and hit him really hard tomorrow morning in the gym where we meet up for our work out. I quickly turned all my attention back to the person sitting opposite me and tried to ignore Seokjin as best I could.

It was only at the end of the evening, when I had said goodbye to Y/N, that I realized that this meeting had much more of a date than a "business dinner". How familiar we had talked with each other... how much I had thought about licking Y/N the drop from the chocolate sauce of her lava cake from her lips... how it would be... to kiss and touch you...

A noticeable blush has settled on my cheeks as I attended our first meeting together... or even Date in this Restaurant thought back. Four months had passed since then and I suffered from longing for you. You would never see me like I saw you. The reason you wanted to draw me was simply that she needed someone as a model. In addition to landscapes and cities, you want to devote herself gradually to more other motifs. And since I have been the first inquired. Your pleading eyes made me say yes. But I know that for me you have  no more than the feelings for a casual friendship. It hurts to see how you flirt  around so casually with all those other people. I would never be the gift for you as you are for me. If only the recipient would notice that there is a given heart laying in your hands...

"Ah, Jungkook! I’m glad that you're ready!", your cheerful and melodic voice cuts through the silence of the room and you’re walking towards me with excited shining eyes. "Come~," you say and lead me to the chaiselongue, which is placed in front of the large window. The soft, orange light of the evening sun falls on the wine-red fabric of the restored chaiselounge in baroque style. The upholstery has frames covered in gold and also the lion feet on which this historic furniture stands are gilded. Everything was decorated with so many Details, it looks so incredibly elegant and luxurious. On the left side there are some cushions in the same color and an elegant design is carved on the backrest, literally inviting to get used.

"Surely you know the movie 'Titanic', right? Do you remember the scene where Jack used charcoal pencils to draw an nude coal picture of Rose as she laid on the sofa? I would like to draw you in a similar position. I hope it's okay for you if I look at you more closely without a dressing gown... i want to get an overview of your body proportions.", you say, looking me straight in the eye. I notice that you’re very concerned about my privacy and does not want to overstep any of my personal boundaries without my consent. I nod slightly at first until I get a clear yes over my lips. She looks at me silently for a few seconds before reassuring me once again that we can always stop at any time if I feel uncomfortable. Especially your patience and mindfulness of my boundaries shows me how important it is for you as well and how I actually relax noticeably. Y/N smiles cheerfully at me and I slowly loosen the belt of the dressing gown and let the last garment slide to the ground. I feel her in-depth look at me... he is not uncomfortable... only... exciting... in a few different ways.

I swallow again and lie down on the chaiselongue as instructed. You correct my arm and leg position, also rearrange all of the cushions correctly. To my own relief, you put a red cloth over my crotch area. Not that I am ashamed of anything, I am more than comfortable with you already... I just have some worries that I will get a visible problem if I constantly feel your look on my bare skin.

 "It should be able to guess something, but not be allowed to see everything right away...", she whispered with a smile, before her fingertips unintentionally glide tenderly through my happy trail. One of your last smiles are... not really to interpret. Then you return to your easel.

* The Reader’s POV *

Carefully you sit down on your old painting stool, already quite worn out on the edges and stained with the most different types and tones of colors. It had originally been dark brown. You smile dreamily when you think back that you’re used to dangle your legs around when you were a little kid because it was way too big for you back then. For eighteen years now you have exactly this stool and this easel. They had been a gift from your grandfather for your fifth birthday. He had awakened the passion of painting and drawing in you and passed his talent on to you. A certain melancholy seized you when I thought back to how you used to paint your first real picture on canvas with your new easel in the old music room in your grandfather's country house. 

It had been the old, dusty grand piano, which must have been more than a hundred years old at that time. How the country house survived all these wars unscathed, you ask yourself to this day. Perhaps there had already been something magical about it at that time, which should remain untouched. Perhaps the small estate should remain an inconspicuous symbol of hope, the hope that at some point the sun and peace will return when the unbearable suffering and sorrow of this cruel time is over. When the wars were over and all those seeking protection who had fled to this country house were able to return to their own homes again. This house, this estate you can explain your childhood with a single word. Home.

You lift your thought-lost look from your empty, folded hands and look to Jungkook. He takes your breath away every time you see him. He is so special, such a wonderful and yet you firmly believe that he has not been chosen for you, such an ordinary woman as you are. He would belong to someone else with whom he would be happy, although he is the only one who was able to understand and read your works, the language in them. It... it had been such a beautiful moment when, six months ago, he stood in your newly opened studio, so absorbed by the painting of the forest of your childhood. All the other visitors had only looked at it briefly and smiled wearily at the fact that it was again only a landscape painting, but did not grasp what the story behind this work was. Why the artist chosed this very motif, to see, to feel what the creator wanted to communicate through the work. 

But Jungkook had been different. He had given the work, your personal heart, a chance to unravel the true meaning behind it. He did it slowly, bit by bit with his eyes... grasped with his whole mind and heart and finally let himself be influenced as a whole. You could tell from his body reactions that he felt exactly what you had felt when you painted it last summer. Longing. Infinite Longing. Mixed together with melancholy, a little homesickness and sorrow to a unique emotional color. The day you painted it was the last time you saw the house in your official possession. Your grandfather had left it to you. But unfortunately you lacked money, you had to pay some debts and with the best will you could not earn the money in other ways. So you had to sell it with a heavy heart. Your beloved birth and childhood home and the associated lands, you had to sell your true home away. The picture is the only thing left of it. And Jungkook was the only person who understood what you wanted to express with the painting. Longing. My Homesickness.

When all these sensations came upon him, he involuntarily clenched his hands tightly, his chest lifted and lowered quickly, his Adam's apple hopped repeatedly. His eyes were glassy. He experienced your longing as directly as you did. He... is so special. So infinitely amiable. He... he is the only person who’s able to read your true feelings in your works. He is able to read between your brush strokes.

So today you will try him... to paint a confession of love with this act. Maybe he could read... what you feel for him. Even if you know that you will probably never see him again. Because you would not be the recipient of his love and affection. He's just too... too... gifted for a simple artist like you. He would never be your gifted person.

Your gaze glides tenderly and caressingly over his body. Trying to absorb every little detail of his body, his charisma and his character into you and let it flow into the painting. Every birthmark you want to put on the canvas and hold on. You want to show Jungkook how beautiful he is. How godlike he lies before you on this majestic chaiselongue, how masculine and muscular he is, as if he wanted to embody an Adonis. You want to paint every muscle, even the smallest visible muscle, on the canvas in a realistic manner, you want to capture the strength and security that he conveys to you over and over again and make it visible to him. And yet... his gaze often corresponds to that of an intimidated, insecure fawn, which does not dare to want to get up on his legs on his own. The fear of falling again is too big. Through this painting you want to show Jungkook what he really is, what he represents for you and what you feel for him. He is... so contradictory. He is strong, godlike, powerful... and at the same time, so infinitely uncertain, vulnerable... almost pure.

Silence enters your little studio, only the regular breathing of the other and the muffled noise of the busy world outside the door could be heard. Here... here, it feels like time is standing still for a moment for the two of you. Your shared eternity had begun.

To your happiness that it is summer right now and it stays bright for a long time. Today you take more time than usual to mix colors. You want to mix a shade that perfectly matches his skin tone. You want to get the exact color of his black hair down onto the canvas, and the perfect brown for his beautiful eyes. The evening sun and the leaves of the huge treetops in front of the large window conjure up the most beautiful patterns on his immaculate body. A game of light and shadow. It seems to you that Jungkook's body, every single pore of his body has a tiny diamond, so that he begins to sparkle in the sunlight like an infinitely precious jewel. The evening sun warms him, lays a thin layer of sweat over his body. Every detail you try to bring to the canvas, every feeling, every movement of my heart, everything you feel for him, you want to bring to this canvas. You want to make him a masterpiece. Because for you, he is the most beautiful specimen, the only true crown of the human creation.

Some black strands have come loose from his manbun and have fallen on his forehead. It looks stunning, to see him like that. I had never seen him with a messy or even completely open hair... but even now these strands loosened from the braid make his facial features look so much softer and more relaxed. In it, the adult and strong man united with a young, vulnerable, shy boy. The result is... infinitely beautiful. He possesses both sides, so he makes the seemingly inexhaustible divine human being.

His eyes, drawing his eyes with that expression in them, cost you a lot of nerves. Too often you misunderstood this infinite longing that you find in his dark, brown eyes. Again and again you have to restrain yourself, not just to get up, to go over to him... and to kiss him.

This longing look you misinterpret is as longing as you own... according to your closeness, your touch, your affection... according to your love. Because you love him. You love everything about him, his sheepish laugh, the way of rubbing his neck shyly, the way he speaks and explains his point of views about things, how he smells... just everything... every blemish he blames on himself, you think it’s like an artwork on him. He is so perfectly imperfect that you just fell in love with him.

The sun has already set and only the last pink and purple streaks could be seen in the sky, with which the past day says goodbye to the world. One last time you can hear the velvety stroke of the brush over the canvas before you finally put the brush aside. It is finished. You have given everything that is in your power, used all of your artistic abilities and knowledge to the utmost and you have incorporated everything that you feel and think about into this artwork. And what you see put a smile on your lips, but also makes your pulse rise. What will Jungkook say when he looks at it? He will see it... can he read what you feel for him in it?

With a trembling voice, you call Jungkook and look at him one last time. The last time the sight of this male beauty was granted to you. One last time.

After Jungkook has wrapped himself in the dressing gown again, he slowly comes towards you and your easel. Your heart is throbbing as if it really wants to fearfully flight and jump out of your chest. Your body gets hot and cold at the same time and suddenly your hands get sweaty, the dried color on your skin mixes with the sweat to a uncomfortable mess in your palms, which somehow makes you even more nervous. Then he stands next to you. Looking at the canvas for the first time himself. The last brushstroke is still drying.

Once again there is silence, which makes you incredibly nervous and with every second that passes, you want to follow your instinct to escape. Jungkook's pupils are dilated and blown out, whether with bewilderment or horror, you can not recognize. One of his hands shoots up his mouth, he trembles all over his body. Suddenly you hear a suppressed, throaty sobbing. Surprised and a little appalled, you look at Jungkook, who has shut his eyes tightly and presses the palm of his hand even harder on his mouth, as if he wants to muffle every sound. Tears escape the corners of his eyes. This is a reaction... which you would not have expected...

Gently, mindful of any kind of resistance, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't sob, he doesn't whimper. He just cries. Tenderly, consolingly you hold him, without wanting to distress him. He literally presses his face into the crook of your neck. Salty tears drench your blouse, but it doesn't bother you. The reason why he had such an emotional outburst, you just don't understand. But still... it's okay. It is valid.

As he slowly calms down and his breathes becomes regularly again, he carefully lifts his head out of the crook of your neck and wipes the last tears out of his eyes dry in slight embarrassment. He slowly releases himself from your embrace until you finally stand silently in front of each other.

"What title you’ll give this artwork?", he asks softly, in a rough, throaty voice. You swallow . "It shall be called 'Der Geliebte'. ...it is german and translated it means... ‘The beloved’ ", you say barely audibly and lower your head. After this confession, you can no longer look him in the eyes.

Jungkook takes a sharp breath in and you're actually just waiting for a devastating response from him that would be like a death threat. But nothing of this happened. Instead, your chin is suddenly raised by his fingertips and you look into Jungkook's beautiful eyes. He bites his lower lip a little uncertainly,his own gaze falls on your pretty shaped lips. 

"Do you... do you allow me to kiss you?", he asks quietly... barely audible for you even though you’re standing so close to each other. He doesn't dare to look you into the eyes after such a question, he is too afraid that you deny his request. But you can hardly believe your luck, a high pitched ‘yes!’ flew over your lips and before you can control yourself, you press your own lips right onto his. They are incredibly soft and kiss you back in such a delightfully and endearing insecure and shy manner as no other could ever have done it.

Your heart beats full of joy and bliss and in your belly, the butterflies fly somersaults of all different kinds that your whole body began to tingle. Your mind cannot get a grasp of all this yet, but this... you don't need any more of it at this moment anyway.

The kiss is tender, shy and somewhat uncertain from both sides. Jungkook is very insecure and shy, but before he can escape like a frightened deer again, you put your arms around his neck and let your hands rest in the nape of his scalp. Again and again you detach yourselves from each other only for the fraction of a second to get a breath of air into your lungs in order to find each other lips again... until you stopped for a few seconds.

"I like you... I like you really, really much, Jungkook... I even dare to say that I fell on love with you.", you mutter softly against his lips. His shy, happy smile was too much for you, so you immediately kiss him again. Perhaps because of the sheer joy and maybe of the certainty that he feels the same for you, the next kiss turns into something more passionate than before...

[opluffys]

Reverse Captain- Killer x Reader x Eustass Kid

okay okay this is like the last old story from my archive account that i’m posting here *maybe? lmao idk* :,). i’m head over heels in love with killer so i got like ten wips for him lololo. lowkey don’t like how this one turned out, but it’s a couple of months old so idc anymore hehe. anyway i hope you guys enjoy! oh, also sorry if the spacing looks weird, i was too lazy to go through the whole thing and edit it...

-smut/nsfw-

You felt deliciously full and sore, the quick sliding of your captain's cock against your tight walls nearly made you lose consciousness.

"Fuck... Kid..!" You yelled, feeling his girth stretch you.

He grunted behind you and continued to thrust into you wildly, almost as wild as that red hair of his, which was now stuck to his forehead.

Your breasts were flush against the table of his office, rocking back and forth, creating a wanted friction that fueled your desire.

It was no surprise that Kid was rough in bed, just one look at the man and pretty sure anyone could tell. But you just weren't ready for it all, the way his cock just hit every spot inside of you so perfectly... When he leaned down to nip your ear and leave harsh markings on your neck, you felt like you couldn't keep up with him.

You broke the eye contact you had with countless papers and unfinished works in progress on Kid's desk, and looked fervently for your sword. You took that damn thing with you everywhere you went, you would risk your own life for that sword.

When you finally made eye contact with that beautiful blue casing, your face illuminated, you quickly grabbed it, using the hilt of the sword to press against Kid's chest.

"What the fuck..." He started angry, then stumbling backwards onto a stray chair in the middle of the room that fell victim to you and Kid.

"I think you need to slow down a bit, Captain." You said, your voice like sweet honey as you sauntered over to where he was sat, straddling his thighs.

"So you used Sea Stone to tell me that?!" He snapped, about to get up before you pressed the hilt against him once again.

"Ah ah. Feisty are we? I think it's my turn to take charge for the night, don't you, my Captain?" You asked, raising your hips to line yourself up right against his shaft, teasing the redding head with your slick entrance.

"Damn woman..." He growled, trying to get up again, but you were barely faster than him, trailing the hilt of the sword all over his body, making him groan tiredly.

"I would fucking end you if you weren't such a good doctor." He grumbled, still attempting to take charge every few minutes, evidently failing.

"That's all I am? Your doctor?" You responded, faking a disappointment tone. You still continued to rub your folds teasingly over the painfully hard head of your captain.

He raised his hand and you raised your sword, he almost chuckled, instead sending a smirk your way.

"Relax, princess. If I still wanted to actually take charge, you would've been screaming my name over my desk years ago. I guess I'll let you dominate this one time, but next time," He leaned into your ear, nipping it and taking the sensitive cartilage into his mouth. "You're gonna be wishing that you had done it my way." He finished.

You gulped nervously, the tone of his voice nearly made you want to bend yourself back over that desk, forgetting the thoughts of ever wanting to dominate your captain ever again.

Kid let out booming laughter at your reaction, about to come up with a snarky retort, but he was soon silenced by a grunt of pleasure as you finally decided to lower yourself onto his hardened arousal.

"Oh, fuck... So tight..." He whispered, biting his lip as he tried to silence his sounds.

You shuddered noticeably as he filled you to the brim, no, even further than that. He never let you ride him before, because 'You're too slow.' as he said. But as of now, being slow worked in your favour, making the red haired captain begin to lose his cool, grunts and groans of frustration leaving his full painted lips.

"Oh! Oh Captain!! Yes!!" You yelled, feeling his strong arms just tightly wrapped against you and feeling his warm pants fanning across your equally warm face just did something for you.

"Keep talking like that... I won't fulfil my end of the deal." He panted, hands attached to your plush hips, grinding against him thoughtfully.

"That'd be a shame, Captain... Because next time, I'm up for whatever you wanna do. And I mean anything, Kid." You said, sultrily pulling him in and out of you, your wet insides protesting him pulling out every time.

That seemed to shut him up for a while.

"So I've been thinking." You started, bottoming out on his lap, hissing in pleasure after feeling so full. "Your first mate, Killer... He doesn't like me much?" You asked, warming his cock, leaning your forehead against his pectorals.

"I know how Killer ticks. He doesn't hate you or anything, just no reason to make conversation with you. Why do you ask?" Kid replied, unconsciously bucking his hips upwards once in a while, earning you to pull your sword out and poke him with it a couple of times.

"No reason. I just think he's kinda sexy. What's under that mask leaves my imagination running wild, ya know." You said playfully, using your agile hands to tweak and pinch every inch of his built torso.

"What are you really getting at, (First Name)." He said, tone now completely serious, and even though he was stilled inside of you, length twitching and just dying to ravage your insides, the captain's voice never faltered, remaining serious.

"Okay, maybe I daydream of being pinned under your first mate, childhood friend, whatever. But hey, I admit it that he's really, really hot. Okay, happy now, Eustass?" You groaned, hitting your head against his chest in embarrassment, ready for him to scream at you for wanting to have sex with his best friend.

"Okay."

"Yes, I deserve whatever punishment you think is fit- wait, what?" You paused, thinking that you didn't hear him properly.

"I was your first, but by no means were you mine. So if you wanna fuck another dude, at least do it when I'm gone, or some shit." He grunted, rolling his eyes when he saw your surprised expression.

"Fuck, Kid. Please bend me over and fuck me as hard as you want." You whimpered, feeling so pleased at his response.

"With pleasure, princess." He replied, sending a wicked grin your way, harsh hands attached to your sides.

You stood at the edge of the ship, waving goodbye to your captain, who stood alongside Heat and Wire, going into the next island that you all had drifted to.

The two of you decided to hatch up a not too great plan of leaving you and Killer alone on the ship, which was 'I leave with Heat and Wire to the next island, because I'm captain, I do whatever the fuck I want.' which, had actually worked out well.

He sent a shit eating smile your way, then turned around to take his leave, the two other men following their captain.

Killer stood by your side silently, he was never one for being chatty, you knew that much. You took a few looks at the man, his plain black shirt hugging his muscles so tight, that scar on his arm made you tighten your legs, feeling an undeniable warmth flood your senses. You continued your not so subtle stares, the way his blonde mane fell down his broad shoulders and framed his body looked phenomenal, and the only thing you couldn't see was that damn face of his. You stared at the dozen holes on the striped mask, almost like trying to see through it.

"Is something the matter?" He asked, sounding more like a statement than a question. You stiffened, looking upwards towards the blonde, feeling so small in his presence.

You didn't get to be in bed with Eustass Kid for feeling small, though.

"No, Killer." You said, dragging his name out from your tongue, walking closer to his stature. You leaned against his strong chest, a gentle hand laying on his rippling muscles.

"But I think that you have something the matter with me." You said, taking your hand off of him, giving him a sly smile.

"You must've imagined it." He replied coolly, walking away to his quarters, not even giving you a chance to further your attempt at a conversation.

You clicked your tongue and walked past Kid's lackeys, who were all staring at your ass while you passed by, going to wandering into the kitchen.

You turned your head to look at them, smiling at how painfully obvious they were being while gawking at you. If only Killer sent a single gaze your way like these men here, it'd make your job of seduction a lot easier.

You took a seat in the kitchen, a stray chair in front of the stove. You picked at your nails, desperately waiting for someone to scream for your help, claiming they've been injured and needed your help. Though it was a bit bad to wait for someone to become injured, it was your role to assist them.

You didn't know when, but you leaned your head over onto your hand and started to doze off for a while, only jolting awake when you heard the sound of running water from behind you.

"Finally awake?"

You turned to where the voice came from, swallowing hard when you saw that mess of blonde hair.

"There's a plate in front of you, if you're hungry." He said, continuing to wash dishes. Yes, of course you were hungry, but not for food.

You hummed softly, getting up to smooth your skirt and walk over to Killer, offering your hand to help. "Maybe later. How about some assistance?" You asked, settling next to him to dry the wet plates. He shrugged lightly, his blonde tendrils swaying along his strong shoulders. Oh, how you wanted to just grab onto those shoulders while he thrusted into you wildly, grunting and groaning in your ear how you took him so well-

"Here."

You snapped out of your daydreams and took the plate from him, drying it off and placing it onto the shelf.

The two of you sustained a steady rhythm of washing and drying for a while, until you accidentally had dropped a glass cup, seeming to smash into a million pieces upon impact.

"Shit." You mumbled, crouching down to pick up the glass with your bare hands, of course, a bad idea, but you weren't weak, you could take a few cuts as long as you cleaned the mess.

Killer stood silently behind you, admiring the view of you bent down, even though he really shouldn't be. He pulled you up by the arms, surprising you, nearly dropping the glass shards.

You looked at his mask with a perplexed look on your face, dropping the bits of glass into the trash bin, dusting your hands off.

Killer started walking over to you, and you, being confused of what he needed, continued to back up, until your back hit the wall.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drop it or anything. Besides, I cleaned it up. We all good?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Why do you do this, (First Name)." He asked, grabbing your chin in his calloused hand, forcing your wandering eyes to peer into the mask.

"Do what?" You replied, resting your hand atop his sculpted arm, his muscle twitching at your touch.

"Make me want to pin you against the wall and fuck your brains out." He said, not moving his hand from your skin.

You froze in place, it seemed your job was easier than you had thought. "So do it, Killer." You smiled, tracing your hands over his strong torso.

"I can't." He answered, moving away from you, back to the sink to dry the rest of the dishes. You frowned, your painted lips then creating a flat line as you stood in thought.

"You can. I'm the captain's girl, right?" You said, walking behind him, trailing your nails through the material of the black shirt, feeling his muscles tense under you. "And you're captain when he's gone." You said, standing on your tippy toes to nip at his strong neck, leaving a barely visible mark behind.

You were sure you didn't even blink before you were over the counter, Killer's arm against your back, preventing you to move. A smile spread across your features, sighing contently as you felt his other hand squeeze and pinch along your clothed body.

"Mm, Killer..." You whimpered softly, grinding against his crotch. His breath hitched, but he easily retaliated, a loud hiss of pleasure leaving your lips as you felt a stinging sensation on your ass.

"I guess you're just like captain. Always wanting to take charge." You sighed, feeling the cool air hit your dripping cunt, accommodating the size of Killer's digits. "I guess so." He said, his gaze on how you took his three fingers.

You moaned loudly, biting your lip while shifting your weight from foot to foot, unable to take the torture any longer. "I didn't come here for your fingers." You grumbled, closing your eyes as he curled his fingers deep inside of you.

"Yeah, but this is probably the only time I'm going to be able to enjoy you. Gotta take it nice," He stopped, pulling his fingers out to circle your clit. "And slow." He finished. You were sure he was smirking underneath that mask.

"It doesn't have to be." You whimpered, backing your hips against him again, feeling his bulge rub against you. You heard him take a sharp inhale, contemplating whether to continue the teasing, or to just give in.

"Please." You begged, placing your forehead against the hard table.

And he had his answer.

The sound of a fumbling belt buckle behind you put a smile on your face. "Finally." You mumbled, feeling his tip press against your entrance. You bit your lip from letting out a scream as he suddenly filled you, a shaky sigh leaving Killer's lips.

"Ah... Fuck, Killer!" You panted, your hands grabbing the counter harshly. His tan arm lifted from you, now squeezing your hips tightly, pulling you back against him, relishing in your warmth.

"Killer... Fuck... You stretch me so good!" You yelled, moaning when you felt him fill you over and over again. "You're awfully quiet back there, am I not what you expected?" You said, a fake tone of sadness lacing your voice.

"Unlike you or Kid, I'm not so vocal." He responded, trying not to show the strain on his voice, even when you were wrapped so tightly against him, your pussy dragging him in deeper and deeper with every thrust. "You're even better than I thought, (First Name)." Killer said, pushing himself into you deeper than what you thought possible.

"Isn't this position boring? Why don't you pin me against the wall and fuck my brains out like you proposed? You can even have me do the work and ride you, or even-" You were cut off when your mouth was filled with Killer's long fingers, taking your tongue between them. "You know, you make a good point. I can't see the faces you're making." He said, pulling out of you slowly.

"Why don't we go somewhere more, private." He said, his deep voice making your legs shake. You nodded fervently, pulling your panties up and adjusting your skirt. You tried to take a step forward, but your wobbly knees betrayed you, nearly making you fall down until Killer took your hand, pulling you up gently. "We weren't even going for that long." He said, making sure that you could stand before letting you go. "You're big, what do you expect?" You mumbled, rolling your eyes.

When you were stable, you tried taking another step under Killer's gaze. Again, you failed and your hands flew to his extended arm. He sighed audibly and lifted you up, carrying you like a bride. "What a gentleman." You giggled, your hand wrapping around his neck softly. He didn't reply as he started walking back to his room, obviously attracting stares along the way.

"Killer..." You whimpered, feeling his cock push against your womb, making you see stars. Your back was against the cool wall, seeming to steal the warmth that radiated off of you. "You're tight even when you and the captain go at it everyday..." He grunted, his hips snapping against yours. You would've laughed if you weren't pinned against the wall getting fucked. "Yeah, sorry about that... I know I can get a little, ya know..." You said timidly, a warmth settling on your cheeks after getting called out for being so loud.

"I've always wondered what your lips feel like." You sighed, feeling him stretch you so good. "Not today, (First Name)." He said, biting his lip softly, trying not to let out too much noise, even though you couldn't even hear him. "Come on, Killer. All I've wanted to see was your face the second I joined the crew, and that was years ago, that says something." You said, trying to sound angry, but that was seemingly impossible with a huge cock inside of you.

Killer seemed to stand still in thought, wondering if he could actually show you his face. He didn't hold any negative feelings toward you, but he wasn't sure if he trusted you enough. "And if I do..?" He asked, not moving any longer, his cock deep inside of you. "If you do, then I most definitely think that we would enjoy ourselves much more." You replied, hands squeezing his strong shoulders tightly. He made a sound of disapproval as he pulled out of you again, walking away from you. You barely stood, only with help of a chair next to you were you able to stand.

A confused face took over your gentle features, pondering if you had said or did something wrong. "Damn it, how the fuck did I mess this up so badly..?" You sighed, starting to gather your clothes slowly, silently wishing Killer was here to help you out. It was the least he could do if he didn't want you anymore.

"(First Name), do me a favour." You heard him, he was out of view, for some reason. You hummed, signalling that you heard him. "Close your eyes, just for a little while." He said, his voice coming closer to where you stood. You complied, used to taking orders, especially on a ship where Eustass Kid was captain.

You felt a rougher hand tangle with your soft one, leading you somewhere. You trusted Killer, but you had no clue what he was going to do.

You were stopped for a moment, then brought down onto muscled thighs, your hand still tightly wrapped with Killer's. It took you a moment to realise that you were straddling his thighs, your cheeks adapting a sudden warmth at the intimate pose you two held.

You felt warm lips against yours, your abdomen knotted tightly at the feeling. His tongue softly pushed against your own, his lips tangling within your own in a fierce dance, the two of you seemingly unable to get enough of each other.

Your hand still laced with Killer's, you squeezed it harder unconsciously, feeling your lungs start to burn after not inhaling enough oxygen. Your open hand wandered lower, tracing Killer's strong abs and his beautiful V-line, finally finding his rock hard length, your hand softly pumping it when he released your lips with a groan. 

"Fuck, (First Name)... Just like that..." He whispered, his pants warming your face. His breath smelled of a cool mint, opposing your captains fierce cinnamon scent.

Your eyes were still shut, though you were dying to take a small peek, you were sure he was just as beautiful as the rest of his body.

You continued your ministrations while Killer ravaged your soft lips, his lipstick mixing with yours. Any time while the two of you locked lips, you felt his cock twitch in your hands, obviously wanting to be back inside of your warmth. You subtly raised your hips, lining his cock up with your entrance. Just as you started to lower yourself, Killer thrusted his hips forward, sheathing himself inside of you quickly. You yelled against his lips, separating the two of you.

He would've laughed if he didn't dislike doing so. "You know I can see what you're doing, right?" He asked, his harsh tone of voice seeming to disappear.

"S-Shut your damn mouth..." You whispered, closing your eyes tighter than they already were. You opened your mouth to speak once again, but you were silenced by a pair of lips against yours once again. It was as if he couldn't get enough of you, each kiss was like air to him, his lungs burning like a fire until your cool lips met with his scorching ones. It was weird how you were the one who wanted to kiss him so bad, but he was the one who kept initiating it.

He pulled back from you, leaving your lips slightly agape and stinging, a sensation that was welcomed by you. "You can open your eyes now." He sighed, worried about how you'd react.

Your (eye colour) eyes strained open, the light making it hard to fully open them on command. You squinted, then little by little opened them fully, eyes resting on Killer's tanned chest, your mouth wanting to leave markings on the skin. You just realised that your hand still laid on top of Killer's gently, you muttered a quick apology and looked up at him, your eyes meeting his.

Your mouth hung open slightly, seeing his blonde hair fall into his face perfectly, his long eyelashes tickling his strong cheekbones, his full lips swollen after meeting your own countless times.

"So handsome..." You mumbled, seemingly forgetting that he was still inside of you. You noticed his cheeks get warmer, as you sent him a small smile. 

"Thank you."

He looked at you, confusion written all over his pretty features. "For?" He asked, his now free hand caressing your hips, tracing small shapes with his tall fingers.

"For trusting me... I know we never talk, but I trust you as much as Captain." You sighed, your forehead against his chest. "And well, obviously the other two." You laughed, referring to Heat and Wire.

He didn't know what to say, but he began to feel slightly bad. "Why did you never talk to me, anyway? When I first joined you used to at least make small talk with me, but then it stopped." You said, looking up at him with an undeniable sadness in your eyes. He sighed, averting his stare. "I knew something like this were to happen if I continued to talk to you. When you and Kid became a thing, I had to back off, respect that you were his, or the temptations would overcome me someday." He said, returning his gaze to you.

You hummed, satisfied with the answer. "At least you don't hate me." You said, raising your hips to be able to kiss him again, lips against his own with fierce intent.

"Please fuck me, Killer." You whimpered, unable to take just his stationary cock inside of you any longer. He didn't respond back to you, but began to assist you in moving on top of him, your arms resting against his shoulders as you started to bounce on him, his cock going inside and out with such a lewd sound.

Killer's hands gripped your hips tightly, lifting you onto him easier than if you were doing it alone. "Fuck..." He groaned, feeling your fleshy walls tighten around him, warmth over flooding his entire being.

You felt him push against the spot that nearly induced you into a deep unwanted sleep, letting out a loud moan, unable to form words to tell him to keep hitting that spot.

He knew what angle to go out now, abusing your wet walls with every snap of his hips. He moved his hand lower to circle your clit slowly, hearing you give a wanton whisper of his name fuelled his need to make you finish around him.

You felt your leg twitch as you felt your inevitable release creep up on you. Your moans and whimpers grew to a higher pitch, with a raise of your hips, Killer met your lips against his once again, you never growing tired of the feeling. One more deep thrust inside of you, and you couldn't take it, accidentally screaming into Killer's open lips, you separated from his mouth and whimpered again as you came around him, your arousal dripping down onto his erection and onto the both of your thighs.

He continued to lazily drill into you, filling you to the brim until he was satisfied. He bit his lip as you tightened onto him harshly, almost like not wanting to let go. You moaned his name, feeling sensitive with every move.

"So fucking good." He whispered to himself, getting lost in your soft insides. He too felt release coming sooner than he thought. You were just so good around him, smaller than him and still able to take him better than initially thought.

A few more thrusts and he pulled out, grunting softly as he came on your stomach, thick white ropes of his sticky seed on your naked body.

He got up to bring you a towel, finally feeling the after effects on him, collapsing onto the bed beside you gently. You smiled, your lipstick was slightly smeared and your hair was tousled messily. You cleaned yourself up and laid next to him, locking lips again softly, feeling him being so gentle with you made you feel like you could take him again right then and there.

His eyes were on yours after you backed up from the kiss, a smile on your face as you closed your eyes.

"I could get used to this."

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 22

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tag: @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The next few weeks went by in utter bliss.

The days after the pitch presentation with the marketing team were spent shooting the models in Sam's building. When Bucky told me you'd had assistants for the shoot, you thought that he was just joking or just wanted to make you feel better but you knew now to believe everything he would tell you. It was the first time you'd had people help you work; the first time you had to order people around. You had people working for the lights, reflectors, fans, backdrops, wardrobe, and make-up. You also had people sitting behind two large desktops connected to your new camera to skim over the photos. You would head over there for every five minutes to look at the photos and if you found something that could work better, you'd have another round with the models.

Considering it was the first time you've handled professional models and athletes in photoshoots, you did excellent and handled everything smoothly. Even Sharon knew it, giving you a small reassuring smile from time to time.

Speaking of Sharon, she actually helped you with the models' wardrobe, and got every new clothing from their inventory, making sure everything and everyone were photographed. She was still walking around with her clipboard close to her chest. She never walked the grounds without it.

Sam would go in and out from time to time. With the other matters he had in his hands, countless partnership meetings on-site and online, it was understandable.

But you knew he trusted me in this. After all, you were partners in this project.

Meanwhile, Bucky had made himself comfortable watching you from the corner of the studio. He made himself too comfortable watching you the whole time you were working that the models thought he was planning something heinous. You laughed them off and told them you were dating.

"Isn't he too old for you?" One model had asked.

"Doesn't really matter to me." You turned your head and glanced at Bucky, his eyes glistening as he stared at you. You bit your lip and faced the model. "Plus, he's hot. I would be crazy not to jump on that."

If only Nat could hear you, you knew she'd be proud.

Even though the two-day shoots were brutal, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you. More when you finally had to do post-production the following week which meant editing the photos.

As promised, you spent your break time over at Bucky's penthouse, naked in his living room, his master bedroom, the kitchen, and his home office. Your legs would be trembling during the shoot but you persevered. You didn't want Bucky to see you weak while working, even though it turned him on. It wasn't helping that he was watching you the whole time. You couldn't see him but you always felt his eyes on you.

The Falcons' new release was set to be launched a month and a half later, just weeks after Bucky's birthday (I'll get to Bucky's birthday in a bit, 'cause that was a whole other thing kept at the back of my mind, you thought). There were still a lot of things happening with advertising and marketing such as the new website, and pages on social media platforms and new packaging.

After the project with Sam, your paycheck came one Monday morning in the mail. Peter kept asking you how much you were paid but you never told him because if you did, he'd let you pay the next six month's rent — and that wasn't even just for your half. It would be for the both of you. You would gladly pay of course, seeing that he's helped you enough financially but you wanted to invest this money to earn more. The paycheck wouldn't stop there, of course. Sam would still pay you if your photos ever get on billboards across any city or when he opens up a new branch.

Sam referred you to a couple more guys he knew. One who needed to photograph models for a skincare brand he'd been rebranding for the past couple of weeks and one who needed to photograph paintings to be sold online. They weren't as big as Sam's business but were big enough in the industry. The production of both were still in the talk.

The next day, you and Bucky went studio hunting downtown. Obviously, your little home studio wasn't fit for incoming clients and this was surely an investment you couldn't pass upon. After renting and earning more profit, you figured you could move into another studio and buy it; a permanent place where you could freely work.

While studio hunting, Bucky insisted to buy the place that you wanted — or better yet, buy a much bigger place so you wouldn't have to move to another studio. But you've already made up your mind. You told him you wanted to do this your own way, with the money you've earned. After signing the contract and lease with your name on it, Bucky hugged you from behind. The property agent eyed you.

"At least let me buy you something, doll." He whispered in your hair as soon as you were left alone. You stood at the center of the empty office, overlooking the busy streets of New York City through the glass walls.  "Please."

You met his arms with your hands, pulling him closer. You leaned on his chest, sighing at the comfort his arms gave you. "Even if I tell you no, I know you're still going to do it."

"You're damn right. Do you have anything in mind you might like?"

You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Surprise me."

He chewed his inner cheeks before dipping his head to yours, your lips meeting each other. "Oh, I definitely will."

The next day, a whole studio setup filled the used-to-be-empty studio. Complete with backdrops, lights, light boxes, and reflectors. In your new office was a fully furnished desk, complete with a desktop setup where you could edit photos.

You looked at him with wide eyes, ready to lecture him that this was all too much and that you definitely made it clear that you wanted to do all of this by yourself.

Bucky had caught your expression early on, scared that you might have our first argument.

"Before you say anything, this wasn't all me. I figured out a loophole on how I could buy you the things you need for this studio and at the same time, still make you like me and would still make you want to rip my clothes off."

"What did you do this time, James?"

"All of this," he said, gesturing to all the equipment in the studio, "was both me and Sam. Think of it as an investment. If you can get more work and clients, then you can keep everything but if you can't, we'll pull them all out. When you afford to buy everything here, only then can you pay us. This little string here," he pointed to the both of you, "is just business."

You looked at him in disbelief. "Just business?"

He bit his lip. "Okay, maybe a bit of pleasure too."

"A bit?"

"Maybe a whole lot." He shrugged.

"And the whole idea was... just you?"

"Just me, sweetheart. Plain James Buchanan Barnes. You get me, you get the whole package."

"And besides money what will you get out of this little investment idea of yours?"

"I have little care about the money, honestly." He said. "But I'm doing all this for you and you is all I care about."

"You're damn lucky I like you, James."

"Like me enough to have some hot sex right here, right now?"

You smirked, pressing your crotch against his, teasing him. "I get the whole package, right?"

Bucky took you from behind. Your tight skirt hiked up to your waist. Your tits bouncing against the fabric of the beige curtains, your hands gripping them as hard as you could as Bucky thrusted himself hard and deep behind you, his hands either on your hips, your hair, your neck or your breasts. And as you both finished, the curtain rod broke in half, making you and Bucky topple on the ground, the huge curtains falling down on your bodies. The bright sun radiating across the room, the view of the streets startling you.

Laughter filled the room as you stared at each other. The look of exhaustion still evident in your faces and body.

"You're buying me new curtains." You breathed out.

"Me?" He chuckled. "You're the one who pulled them off!"

"The reason why was you."

"I have a better idea."

"I doubt that."

"We should just get these windows tinted." He smirked under the curtains and rolled over towards you, his arms wrapped around your waist. "That way we could just ravish each other in front of this goddamn city without anyone ever seeing us. How does that sound, doll?"

You hummed, brushing your nose against his. "Tempting."

"Is that a yes?"

You shrugged, pulling away from him. "You have to convince me more, Mr. Barnes."

"Oh babydoll, you're gonna regret saying those words."

The following weeks with Bucky was all you could ever ask for but it was getting harder and harder to hide all of this from Peter. Your time together was spent in the confines of Bucky's expensive penthouse when he wasn't in meetings and when you weren't busy finishing the setup in your new studio.

All day you'd cuddle up, watch movies, read books, and just talk more about the beauty and perils of life.

You couldn't go out that much because you couldn't risk Peter or any of Peter's friends to see you and Bucky around. When you visited the bar one day and told Nat all about it, she told you to go to places Peter and any of his friends will never be at.

"Besides, isn't Peter always working?" She asked as you sat down on the booth.

"We still don't want to risk it."

"So, go with my plan."

"Hey," you said, finally thinking her idea was a good one, "how's it going with Steve?"

She shrugged, chewing on her lower lip. You eyed her suspiciously. "Uh-oh, what's wrong?"

"It's still good but..." she paused, her eyes strained. "He's been acting strange lately."

"Isn't he always?" You chuckled. "You may not notice this 'cause you're sleeping with him but he's a bit peculiar for a man his age. Always cramped up in that little office of his. Seriously, how on earth do you have sex in there?"

"I'm bendy, bitch."

"Never should've asked." You mumbled, getting the picture of Nat, well, bending, out of your head.

"Anyway," she sighed, "it's just... he's acting really weird. I can't even begin to explain it. I think something happened."

"Do you think it's about you two?"

"I doubt that." She frowned. "I just know it's something else."

"You want me to talk to him? I'm like a little sister to him." You replied. "Sorta. It's a weird dynamic, I know."

"Sure, if you ever catch him in the office. He's barely even here."

You nodded, taking the new information in. "Now, that's a whole level of weird for Steve."

"Maybe he's just having problems with the bar or something." You shrugged.

"If he did, he'd be here in the bar. I tried talking to him but he says he's just fine. I don't know, I'm just letting him be. It's not like we're in a relationship."

You and Nat talked a bit more about Steve right before her shift started. Then the next day, you gave Bucky a map and marked all the places you could go to without risking being seen. Brooklyn was the only place Peter would never go to. You thought about Queens but May, Peter's aunt, lives around that area.

Brooklyn was no Upper West or Upper East side but it didn't matter to you or to Bucky. You had each other; just the two of us — in the restaurant & lounge, movie theater (where we always end up making out), Barnes & Noble, local coffee shops (where we read the books we've bought), and in the streets of Brooklyn. Strolling hand in hand, stealing kisses on every empty corner, and you taking photos and videos of the beautiful landscape, and the beautiful man who managed to steal your heart.

All the rendezvous with Bucky felt like you were a married woman having an affair — without the secret handwritten letters.

But everything was in place and your heart was full. It was so full it could almost explode.

Spending all the time in his penthouse, in Brooklyn and your studio made me miss your rooftop. A place you've claimed yours and Bucky's; a place he'd claimed you his, and he, yours. You wished we could just go there freely, without having to worry Peter seeing you together doing unspeakable things to one another.

And yes, telling Peter was getting much harder as the month went by.

Back in the Upper West Side, nothing much was going on in the bar. You barely see Steve (though according to Nat, he comes in the bar every now and then), Nat was still Nat of course (and nothing much had changed in whatever was going on between her and Steve), Nick got better at making drinks (thank the heavens for that), Sam would give you constant updates whenever he came with Bucky in the bar, and Peter had been having problems with his marketing team and Wanda's vision for the clothing line they landed.

Now that was something you couldn't believe and was the reason you and Bucky kept postponing on telling him.

Peter was constantly in a bad mood. It got to one point where he wanted to quit the team.

After that, you went to pay Wanda a visit at her studio. You found her sitting in her office in deep thoughts. She was surprised to see you but managed to put on a smile when she approached you with a hug. You offered if you could get coffee from a coffee shop down the block and there you talked about the conflict happening between her and Peter's team.

Boy, when you and Sharon had had an argument, you thought that was already big. But Wanda's case was much bigger.

"This isn't a collaboration anymore. It feels like my artistic vision has no place in it. It's like they're telling me, 'hey, you have a camera just shoot whatever we want you to shoot the way we want it to be shot.' I keep telling them that's not how it works. They keep throwing in my face that they hired me, that they're paying me." Wanda being Wanda, kept on and on and on. "... and that roommate of yours is no help either. He just stays silent the whole time during those god awful meetings. We're already behind track and apparently it's my fault. Can you believe it? God, I don't know what to do. I've never had a marketing team work alongside me before! Have you at least talked to Peter about it?"

You raised your eyebrows, taking a sip of the coffee. "Oh, I wouldn't wanna talk to Parker. He's been in quite a mood."

"Too bad, I was kind of hoping you could knock some sense into him. Should I just quit?"

You talked for about two hours in the coffee shop catching up. It felt kind of rude to talk to her about The Falcons but she insisted. And she genuinely looked and sounded so happy for you, which made you feel a bit guilty for being so envious of her success.

You parted ways in her studio but before you could even get out of her office and go to Brooklyn to meet with Bucky, Wanda called out your name and handed you a film camera.

And it wasn't just any film camera. It was yours — the one that she borrowed back in college.

"It's long overdue, y/n. I was just finding the right time to give it back to you."

You gave her a reassuring smile, telling her it's okay. Hell, you even forgot you lended it to her until today. "Thanks, Wanda."

"I haven't had the film developed, by the way. I took a couple of photos before realizing I've run out. I didn't want to get them developed since most of the photos are yours."

After that, you convinced Bucky to go to some shops in Brooklyn where you could get them developed but he insisted you should just make the little spare room in the studio into a dark room. You didn't know why you agreed but you did, anyway. Bucky always had a way with words. Or perhaps it was because of his intoxicating voice. Either way, you were addicted to every part of him. He could try to persuade you in gibberish and you'd still say yes.

It was already the week before Bucky's birthday. You've already met with your new clients, began planning pre-production, and almost finished setting up the studio, yet your brain was still racking what on earth to get Bucky for his birthday.

Howard picked you up in your studio an hour after your meetings and thanked him as you got out. Leonard greeted you inside and led you towards the elevator that goes right up to Bucky's penthouse.

Bucky just came out of his study when you greeted him with a kiss, his phone in his hand.

"So, who was on the phone? Parker?" You asked as soon as you sat down on the couch.

"That was Tony."

You pursed your lips and nodded, caressing the top of his head. "Tony's been calling you a lot lately." You commented, recalling the times you've seen Tony's name on Bucky's phone screen. "Is everything fine?"

"It's kind of weirding me out too, doll but this time, I kind of figured why he called."

You frowned and stopped playing with his hair. "What do you mean?"

"It's the first time in five years I'm in New York for my birthday and knowing him, I know he'd throw me this huge party." Bucky chuckled. "And I couldn't say no because well... It's Tony — "

You smiled at him. "That's really sweet of him! He must've been missing you a lot."

"I'm not done yet, doll." He placed his finger on your lips.

You giggled and hid how easily that gesture turned you on.

"The birthday party has a theme." With his finger still on your lips, you waited for him to finish. Something you always anticipated in bed. "It's the Great Gatsby."

Your mouth fell agape, smiling at him. In your head, you were already seeing him in a neat, dazzling vintage suit. "Oh my god, why do you look so glum? It sounds like a great party!"

He shrugged. "Honestly, I just want to spend my birthday with you." He pecked your lips then whispered. "No fancy party. Just you."

You kissed him back, then placed your head on his shoulder. "I'd love that too, boo but I'm nothing compared to a Great Gatsby party."

"You couldn't be more wrong, sweetheart." He sighed, pulling you up to his lap. "I'd choose you over any fancy party. I just want you."

"You still have to go, Bucky."

He groaned, dipping his head on your shoulder as he pulled you closer, his hands tight on the sides of your thighs. "I don't want to."

"You have to." You giggled, lifting his head. You put your hands on his jaws, looking straight at him. "Okay?"

"I'm turning thirty-nine in a week, y/n. I'm too old for a costume party."

"Puh-lease." You scoffed. "You streaked in the streets of Greece when you turned thirty-four and you're telling me you're too old for a costume party?"

He groaned, throwing his head back. "Why do you always bring that up, doll?"

"It's one of my favorite stories I've been told about my boyfriend." You smirked, bringing his head back in between his shoulders. "It would be my favorite if I were with you."

Bucky sent you a glare. "No way am I letting other people see you naked. Never in a million years."

You shrugged. "You almost did when we had sex that one time in my office, Buck. Come on, go to the party. It's your party, anyway."

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. He tucked it behind your ear. You smiled at the gesture. "If anything, it's Tony's party, Not mine. He's sort of a diva."

"He's still throwing it because of you. Come on, boo."

A moment of silence occurred.

"You're coming with me, then." He replied. "I'm not going if you're not going."

You hummed, looking up at the ceiling. "Let's see... A party with my boyfriend, his adoptive father who's one of the richest people ever to exist on this planet, and his stepbrother. Well, it's a party but not that fancy."

He moaned. "Then be my date in secret. Come on, doll, we've been really good at it. We can sneak out for a few minutes and make out. That way, I could still be with you."

You knitted your brows. "That sounds more like Romeo and Juliet. Not the Great Gatsby."

He chuckled, kissing the tip of your nose. "Come on, y/n. It's my birthday. Don't I get special treatment on my special day?"

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, knowing he would never drop this. The worry of a party with the person you had been avoiding the past month was settling inside but Bucky's arms around your waist made that all disappear.

"Fine." You sighed. "Your wish is my command, Mr. Barnes."

Bucky smiled in victory, leaning in closer to your face. His lips brushed against yours. "Wishes, baby. That's not the only wish I want."

"You have two more then."

"Oh wait, I should rub you first after making a wish, right?"

You shook your head. "Don't push it."

He sneered, carefully rubbing your thighs. "My second wish would be me buying you a dress but don't let me see it until my birthday comes."

You hadn't had any chance to argue because well, it would be his birthday. And you couldn't resist Bucky.

I don't think I ever could.

"Deal." You sealed it with a small kiss then stood up from his lap. "Only if you let me go shopping now,"

"Now? Like, right now? It's a bit too early, don't you think?"

You nodded and gave him a playful smile. "It is. I just wanted to tease you with a little secret I'll be bringing home with me tonight."

"Oh no," he reached out his arms, "don't do that to me. Come on, get back here. I have a better idea."

You sighed, getting back on his lap, straddling him. "Of course, you do."

"I'll have someone over here tomorrow. I'll have one of the best dressmakers here to make you something gorgeous. How does that sound?"

"It sounds expensive." You warned. "But wonderful. I'll be here in the morning."

After spending another hour at Bucky's, discussing what could've been his birthday plans with me (a simple rooftop dinner, where we could get drunk and have drunk sex underneath the tent — that was just one of the crazy options he offered), you went straight to the bar and looked for Nat, hoping she could help me what to get for Bucky on his birthday.

As you got there, you barged inside only to find the bar empty. You looked around, wondering why there were no people inside only to realize it was two in the afternoon and it was a Monday. You looked back on the door, wondering why it was open. Then, it hit you: Steve. He must be here.

"Steve?" You called out as you neared his office. "Steve, you here?"

No answer.

You knocked on the door and called out his name one more time but you were only met with silence. Without hesitation, you opened Steve's door. You were greeted with a pile of papers. It was like they were growing from the ground.

"Steve?" You called out once more but there was still no answer. You walked around the room to find more papers. You picked one up, seeing it was a newspaper dated back 2012. It was an article about an explosion that happened in the Upper East Side. But you couldn't see the details since only the headline was in sight. It seemed like the whole article had been cut or shredded.

You wondered if Steve was the one who wrote it.

It was the first time you ever got a good look in his office. Inside were dusty. To think that he spends most of his time here, he'd bother to clean once in a while.

On the back of his table were a bunch of photographs lined up. Some of his family, you assumed, fishing on a lake. Then, something caught your eye: a small framed picture that was facing down.

Curious, you slowly picked it up.

An audible gasp came out of your mouth when you saw the photo.

It was Bucky and Steve.

[sodone-withlife]

icarus fell, and blood stained the ground

i'm back!! (but not really—the new school year literally starts in an hour and it will be back to my pathological dependence on academic validation. at least i can say i've technically published another fic before summer break ends)

anyway, here's the fic in response to part 1 of sumayyah's post. i published a companion poem for this some time ago. as per usual, i gave up on proofreading so hopefully any mistakes don't detract from the story. also, i hope the formatting and jumping back and forth between italics makes sense—let me know if it doesn't, though it might be easier to read on ao3 (it should go up on there by 4pm PST because school)

warnings: murder, major character death (may potentially be classified as suicide-by-proxy, depending on your interpretation), guns, canon typical violence, slight gore at the end, mentioned substances

word count: 1.9k words

The damned man thought of everything, Jessica thought as she scowled at the damned folder that sat innocuously on the large mahogany desk.

The desk that would soon be cleared, all traces of the previous owner gone.

She lifted a shaky hand and brushed it through her hair, shuddering at its greasy and unkempt state that hinted at the state she had been in recently. Weary to the bone, she forced herself to sit back up and grab her phone, dialing the number that was written on the sticky note placed on the inside cover of the folder. It didn’t surprise her to hear an unfamiliar female voice answer the phone with a “Ms. Brooks?”

He had thought of everything, after all.

Really, the only thing she was surprised at was the sheer extent of his connections—but thinking back to her phone calls with Haley back when he was still practicing law, the talks about extravagant offers from top corporations and firms, she really wasn’t surprised. Thus, it made sense that her call to the top law firm in the state would be answered within two dial tones and by someone who already knew who she was.

And within minutes of talking with the woman who introduced herself as Ms. Stevens, Jessica became even more aware of just how prepared her brother-in-law had been before he walked to his dea—

Not an in-law anymore—her brother. He had long since earned that designation, that spot in her broken family, no matter how much self-flagellation he put himself through in regards to her sister’s murder and no matter how much abuse her father hurled at him in the years before the man who once viewed him as a son succumbed to dementia.

Hours later, despite having already reached her limit twenty minutes into the call, she finally hung up the phone with only funeral arrangements as an immediate concern. Slowly, she stood up from the chair and mechanically made her way into the tiny bathroom that had once been a familiar sight, when her nephew was still a child—

She forced her mind away from that minefield; she wasn’t willing to spend another sleepless night thinking about what had gone down in the past month, what had happened a week ago in that apartment, what her nephew was doing and thinking in the cell that only seemed to become colder and crueler the more she thought about it.

How many prisons had he visited? How many interrogation rooms, holding cells, general population cells, max security cells, death row cells? Did he ever get used to it? Could he allow himself to get used to it, to forget that these people are also human no matter the crimes they’ve committed?

A careful hand fell onto Jessica’s shoulder, and she shuddered under the warmth that seeped into her body, a warmth that had been lacking from her life for a long time now. She turned to see Morgan staring back at her, concerned.

“You didn’t pick up your phone,” he explained neutrally, flicking his eyes towards her phone—and sure enough, there were ten missed calls, each from a member of the team. She looked back up but avoided his concerned gaze only to latch onto her reflection in the mirror and internally winced at her haggard appearance.

“Did you—“ she coughed, clearing her throat, “have you figured out what happened?” Morgan’s unspoken question about her well-being went unanswered, and she continued to avoid looking at him.

She watched the man shake his head through the mirror, unsurprised and once again cursing her brother for his incessant habit of playing his cards close to his chest, especially when it came to personal issues.

How else is—was—he one of the best at poker in the bureau, often even beating Reid?

“He hasn’t talked, either,” Morgan informed her quietly, saving her the pain of asking the question herself. “Forensics is still struggling to put together a cohesive picture. To be honest, I doubt we’ll ever find out what actually happened in that apartment.” He shook his head, frustrated at the man he considered his brother.

If either of them bothered to ask, they would have found that both were truthfully unsurprised at this outcome, given what they only recently learned about the factors and circumstances that led to it. The few established facts about this case in addition to speculation based on systematically organized notes left in an even more meticulously organized folder painted a clear enough picture of the events preceding the fall.

But it wasn’t really an accidental, flailing fall.

In all truthfulness, he didn’t fight it.

Icarus let himself fall to his death in an attempt to compensate for his hubris, to suffer the consequences of his mistakes, and it was both a cowardly attempt to escape the hellish burns caused by the boiling, melting wax and a selfless attempt to teach posterity to avoid ending up like him.

Jessica remembered the warmth of Morgan’s embrace when he ignored all protocol and took it upon himself to inform her of what had transpired in the past two months, regardless of the still-ongoing investigation. It didn’t do much to soothe the cold that had threatened to swallow her whole as she listened to the details in silent horror.

He had sat her down in her apartment, the one she had taken care of her ailing father in before he finally died and the one she couldn’t bear to move out of for all of the memories that had been formed inside—with her father on his good days, with her brother, with her nephew

“A week ago, we were invited by MPD to consult on a series of killings that happened over the course of a month. We had an eye on the situation since the second murder, and there were two more victims in the span of a week before we were finally called in,” he began quietly.

He had suspicions as to what was happening by the time the team was invited in on the case at the personal request of the MPD chief. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had come across this profile before, but there were simply too many puzzle pieces with matching edges for the connections to be brushed off as a coincidence.

“Based on the rate at which bodies were popping up, we anticipated another one within two days of us being called in, but the killer had gone suspiciously silent. We went through crime scenes, forensic reports, and things weren’t adding up.”

"It’s a local case and we’ve coordinated with MPD multiple times, they know the drill. I’d like to take a personal look as well, the brass has been all up in my business about this case given its proximity to the Hill."

That’s what he said to the team regarding him suddenly taking the initiative to go to the crime scenes despite his responsibilities—it had been a while since he last went out to crime scenes, often taking care of the office politics and coordinating the investigation back at whatever precinct or office the team had taken over.

“There were odd inconsistencies, missing pieces of evidence… There was evidence to show that the killer was an amateur, but ultimately the profile we ended up building was nowhere near as detailed as we hoped it could be—but it ultimately went a long way in helping us figure out what was really happening.”

Old case files going missing from his home office, growing interest in his job, sudden mood swings happening long after the worst of puberty, increased isolation, dropping grades…

Absentee fathers of Georgetown students being stabbed and shot to death as if the killer was unsure about what to do, an innocuous Jack-in-the-Box takeout bag sitting near the last three bodies…

Numerous signs, and yet it was the outwardly irrelevant piece of trash, perhaps a sign of the killer’s gluttony—a sick joke that only he could have recognized—that led him to put all of the horrifying pieces together. It’s been over a decade, and yet the memories of that damned day remained as clear as ever, dogging his every footstep. Nightmares in which the worst happens still often visit him in his sleep, sometimes even combined with the effects of Peter Lewis’s drug concoction, effects lingering even after all these years.

“Somehow, we completely missed the fact that he fit the victimology. Maybe it was because of his efforts to distract us… If we had put it together earlier we might have been able to figure it out much earlier, and maybe everything could have turned out differently.”

Only after intensive counseling and careful editing of his case reports was he allowed to continue in the bureau after Lewis and his targeted attacks, and yet he knew he was still being watched. It was with that thought in mind that he made a decision on how to handle the situation. Either way, his life would be irrevocably changed, and there would be casualties alongside him.

All he had to do was figure out how to minimize them.

“He never came in that morning; Reid was the first to notice the lights off in the office. We were headed towards his apartment complex as soon as we saw a cleared-out office with a retirement letter being the only thing left on the desk. All of the pictures, trinkets, law books, messy stacks of paperwork—gone.”

A retirement letter for formality's sake, one copy emailed directly to the director and one printed on his desk, to simplify some things for the bureau and to ensure that Jessica and his son get his pension should the worst happen. All of his decisions, meticulously recorded and justified, except for this last one to protect the team from the consequences of his choice. All of his notes, all of the claimed evidence, carefully stored in the file box he left next to the retirement letter back in the office. Favors accumulated since law school called in, contacts throughout the local justice system ready to step in and deal with the fallout.

All of this, an attempt to compensate for the mistakes he’s made over the years and his hubris, to protect the remnants of his family and the team.

Morgan couldn’t finish telling Jessica what had happened, voice somehow caught in his throat and refusing to cooperate. He simply shook his head, and she folded in on herself, the weight of the last week too much for her to hold up. Slowly, he pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back but not doing much more to soothe her.

This is a wound that wouldn’t ever heal.

The story ends like this:

Icarus burned, and Aaron Hotchner said nothing as the hand that held the gun against his temple shook with uncertainty. Everything he wanted to say was written—one might call him a coward, but writing had always been so much easier for him—and he knew that he would be the final casualty, that the killings would stop after tonight.

Icarus fell, and Aaron Hotchner was flung sideways, the unyielding bullet from his gun fired by his own son shredding the brain that thought had of everything but the emotional and psychological effects his final decision would have on his family and friends.

Daedalus grieved over his son’s crumpled form, and Jack Hotchner would be found with his father’s dead body in his shaking arms as he stared blankly at sights unseen to the team, who had come hours too late.

Blood stained the ground, seeping into the cracks and crevices of grasping fingers, and nothing would ever be the same.

[actual-fucking-clown]

Take your time then.

Aizawa x gender neutral reader

Story under the cut :)

Unedited but like edited but still not properly edited :)

Hope you enjoy!!!

a/n: it’s been a hot min since I’ve written a fic. I think the last time i was 14 and it was shit and on wattpad. Ha. I hate myself. N e way, I was recently writing some shit for an au me and my friend thought up and in the back of my mind I was like, “you should start writing fics again bc this is kinda fun”, soo lo and behold I made a post asking if anyone would be interested, shared a little too much personal shit in it but whatever, and have now decided to write this mother fucker. (3/25/21)

a/n: not sure if anyone will care about this series of a/n’s but I’m just chronicling thoughts ig. rewriting rn bc my first draft was short and ass. Also I’m thinking about opening requests after this is posted, will go into detail in a diff post maybe. (3/28/21)

a/n: deleted everything, rewriting. I just want to make something that might be decent and if I can give that feeling, y’know those chills you get when you read something utterly gorgeous, but I’m bad at writing. sadge (3/28/21, like several hours later)

a/n: ugh (4/1/21)

a/n: ugh pt 2 electric boogaloo. I can’t seem to move forward with the writing. I realized something like this might happen bc to solve a problem feelings need to be discussed and I fucking hate doing that so you can see where I’m fucking up lmaooooo (4/2/21)

a/n: I read angst to fuel my writing brain. So, read some angst, finally writing agian. This first section is probs as long as the story itself LMFAO(4/5/21)

Started: (3/25/21) Finished: (4/5/21)

Warnings: uh angst, curse words, like a lot, (i saw someone else put this as a warning, do I actually need it?), avoiding problems instead of actually facing them, mentions of shit so-so parenting, mentions of not being able to live up to high expectations, y’know, the works

Synopsis: Aizawa takes in Eri without running it by you first and expects you to be okay with it. That’s funny. He was wrong.

Can I preface this with a thought? I’m going to anyway,

all the fics I read paint him as the sweetest partner and I’m sure he is but I think they miss out on how blunt he is and his whole “Mr. Rationality” thing. So as much as I adore him I think there are situations that he’d be a bit more colder towards, a bit more straightforward about. Maybe even like a bit insensitive about but maybe bc he doesn’t have the full picture or something. so I guess this is another warning but aizawa is a little insensitive in the beginning (but like not really but kinda. it’s complicated)

~

Rain pattered softly against the window. The smell of some old random Bath and Bodyworks candle you’d dug out from a box you’d never bothered to unpack smothered the room. Some Netflix show idly played on a low volume on your computer, you’d lost interest in watching tv awhile ago. You needed a break. After the eventful month you’d been having you really needed this. 

Now of course your whole year so far had been eventful. What with all the villain attacks on you and Shouta’s class and the kidnapping of one of your students, to just dealing with the more mundane problems with your students. No. You had no problem with that. The villains, although not easy, were something you were trained to handle. The smaller problems with your students weren’t arduous either, after all you weren’t too much older than them. 

When reflecting on your situation, from and outside perspective it could be seen as the straw the broke the camels back, which sure, makes sense. After all, you’re bound to be stressed out by everything else, so why would this seemingly insignificant thing weigh heavier than a villain attack? Well if that is the situation why does this single straw feel like it weighs a ton? This is not that. This is not culmination of the events of this year draining the life from you. This is something entirely different. A panic inducing life change that completely took you by surprise mixed with your inability to actually face your problems. 

You don’t blame them. You can’t. They’ve done nothing wrong. A child. A small, probably mentally scarred child is your problem. Well not her personally but the fear taking care of her instills in you. Despite working in the field that you do, you cannot for the life of you handle actual children. Sure you’re a little awkward with your class but at least they’re young adults and (vaguely) mature and independent to a certain extent. The fact that your long term boyfriend just came back one day, small child in tow and said “Hey I’ve gotta look after this one now” not verbatim obviously, for a lack of better words, fucked you up. He basically solo adopted a kid and, let’s be honest, he probably expected you to help out. But how could you? How could this man look at you and think “I want this person to help me raise an already fucked up child?” Ok sure, he doesn’t at first give off the “I’m totally father figure material” vibe but in the end he is extremely competent. You on the other hand, not so much.

You’d never been good with children. Tried your best to steer clear of them. Didn’t matter the place, didn’t matter who’s kid, you couldn’t handle them. You would just stand there, awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do and petrified that there was the possibility of making some mistake which would upset the child and then oh wow look, your head got chopped right of your shoulders. That’s hyperbole of course but it does sum up the insurmountable fear that overcomes you whenever you have to deal with a child. So considering the fact that your long term boyfriend had suddenly decided to adopt and not at least warn you, didn’t sit right with you.

So, the best and most obvious choice, was to avoid your problem. Avoid Shouta, avoid Eri. Avoid the mention of them and you, avoid it all. And honestly you’d done pretty well so far. You were able to have as little contact with them as possible considering the close proximity of your living quarters in the teacher’s dorms. After all they were legally supposed to give you two separate rooms but you never actually used yours, well until now. You were living it up honestly. Did you feel awful? Of course. He is your boyfriend after all and you were sure Eri doesn’t deserve your cold shoulder but this is probably for the best. What could you offer her? You weren’t sure that you were a good role model for her or anyone for that matter. What did you know about raising kids? it’s not like you had parents to set a proper example for you. Of course they might have shown you what not to do but where do you go from there? Is shit like that really avoidable? You don’t want to be like them. You strive to be better but what if you can’t be. There’s also the added bonus of the fact that raising a kid seems taxing on a relationship. Now matter how strong you were sure that the stress of a kid could break a relationship down that then festers into something toxic and unrecognizable. You didn’t want that. God you couldn’t let that happen. No. This was definitely for the better.

Of course Aizawa didn’t feel the same. He was confused on why his partner had been so blatantly avoiding him. Did he do something wrong? He doesn’t remember doing anything that might’ve upset you. So why now? Why pull away now? He had to get down to the bottom of this but catching you was the hard part. You had been taking on more work, offering more assistance to the other teachers, picking up extra patrols, doing everything and anything to stay away from Shouta. It took him a month but he finally caught up to you. You were tired, worn out he knew that. Instead of loading yourself with work you’d decided to hole yourself up in your room. It was now or never.

You were pulled out of your peace at the sound of a few gentle knocks to your door. You really didn’t want to get it. You honestly couldn’t be bothered. 

“(N/n)? Are you in there?” He hadn’t gotten it wrong right? He hadn’t been too distracted earlier and missed you leaving right?

“What’s up?” You hummed from your place by the window, not bothering to actually open the door.

“Can I come in?” Shouta asked, voice soft. You could barely hear him above the patter of the rain and the low humming of your laptop.

“Uh, no, kinda busy. Got loads of work to do. Need to focus, sorry. Maybe later?” You hesitantly spoke. Not sure if you were convincing enough. 

Apparently you weren’t.

He sighed. “It’s been “later” for an entire month. Please (Y/n) just let me in. Whatever this is we can talk it out.” You had predicted that eventually Shouta would start to try to crack down on whatever the issue was but you didn’t expect it so soon. 

“Uh...no?” You tried, hoping that maybe he’d just give up but that wasn’t Shouta.

“No, you don’t get that option, now please, open the door.” Although it was still soft his voice had taken a more stern tone.

“Oh no I’m dead. I guess I can’t open the door. What a shame. I guess the only way to talk with me now is in the pits of hell.” You quipped, trying to lessen the tension that already ran thick.

“(Y/n).” Aizawa sighed.

“Jeez fine. Talk about pushy.” You quipped once more to no avail.

Opening the door you were met with, well exactly what you expected. He stood there, arms crossed, a stern yet gentle look in his eyes, his lips pulled into a slight frown. 

“Come in.” You mumbled as you stepped further into your room.

“So tell me. What’s wrong?” The sentence stirred so much. Of course you wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill your guts to the man you loved in hopes of comfort but you just can’t. You know you’ll just scare him off. You know you’ll make things worse.

So you stay silent.

He says nothing as he grabs your hands gently and leads you over to your bed. He sits the two of you down on the edge, muting the movie on the laptop sitting behind him.

“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you right?” Shouta sent you a warm smile. 

You weren’t very comfortable with discussing your feelings sometimes, it mostly stemmed from the fact that you never really could discuss them with anyone growing up which made it harder to confide in anyone now, as at this point bottling things up was a habit. But this was also just something that you were sure that you couldn’t talk about.

Silence answered him once again.

Now he took sometime to think about his approach, think about what could’ve happened that made you pull away. What did he do that was different from his norm? He was genuinely stumped and the fact that you weren’t helping him confused him even more.

You decided to take this time to lament the situation too. What was he going to do? Should you actually tell him or play it off? If you play it off will he still insist that something is wrong? If you tell him will he leave you? If you don’t tell him will he leave you? You risked a glance at him, he was still deep in thought.

Why did you have to adopt this fucking kid without at least warning me?

“What?” Your head shot up at the sound of his shocked voice.

“What?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“Eri’s the problem...?” He spoke slowly, not entirely sure if he’d heard you right.

“Did I say that out loud?” You squeaked.

“I’m pretty sure you mumbled something along the lines of “why’d you have to adopt that fucking kid”.” Shouta said, unsure if he’d heard wrong. Wanting to have heard wrong.

“No no no no no no! It’s not like that! I mean it is like that but not like that!” You frantically waved your hands in hopes of defusing the situation.

The way he looked at you made you want to cry. You felt horrible. You felt like the biggest asshole in the world and, at this point you probably were. He looked at you with such a look of heartbreak and disappointment and confusion it made you sick to your stomach. You felt light-headed and started shaking. You were right. You were right. You were always right. God why did you have to be right! Why did you have to be like this? Scared of raising a fucking child! It was asinine and irrational and you could probably move past it  but thanks to your stupid fucking brain you just sealed your fate.

You scooted away from him still waving your hands frantically as no’s tumbled endlessly from your lips. You tried sputtering an apology, anything so that he wouldn’t look at you like that but nothing stuck. Nothing was comprehensible. Nothing worked. Nothing would work. Nothing will work. You were hopeless. It was hopeless. 

“If it isn’t like how it seems then tell it to me straight.” Shouta finally spoke up.

You took a second to come down from your panic. You steeled your nerves as much as possible before you spoke. 

“Um well, I have nothing against her it’s just that a little heads up would’ve been nice? I’m not all that great with kids so this is just kind of weird is all.” You were purposefully being vague in hopes that he’d understand what you meant and also maybe drop it.

“Not great with kids? You’re literally a teacher.” He pointed out.

“Yeah you know but she’s like a kid kid and let’s be honest I’m not too great with the students either.” You awkward laughed. So he wasn’t getting it.

“Wha-you’re fine with the students and I’m sure you’ll be fine with Eri, there was no reason to avoid me over this.” Shouta sighed. As good as he was with dealing with people, he was equally as shit. Or maybe it was just the fact that you gave him very little to work with. It was probably a bit of both. Still his dismissiveness was not helping you right now.

“No, no, no, no. I think I’ll stay here. Uh, good luck with your parenthood escapades and sorry to leave you high and dry like this but that’s going to have to be a no from me.” You rambled. He seemed to be getting a little tired of this.

“(Y/n) stop being irrational. She’s not even our kid I’m just looking after her for now. Why are you being difficult? I told you you were fine with the students and you’ll be fine with Eri, what else do you want to hear?” Shouta grumbled.

“Well uh I don’t know, uh...” You trailed off, this seemed to be going in a direction you really didn’t want it to go. A slight hostility settling in the air.

At your lack of a proper answer he clicked his tongue. He took a moment to reassess the situation. There had to be something he was missing. After all you were getting really worked up but if you weren’t going to talk to him there was nothing he could do. He shook his head before running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“(Y/n), please, please, just be honest with me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. But I won’t be able to understand if you don’t.” Aizawa sighed, deciding that getting worked up about this was not the way to go, especially when you seemed to be especially distraught.

“Uh, god the thing is I don’t know entirely what to say to put the shitshow in my head into perspective.” You mumbled, trying desperately to figure out what to say that could clear the air but nothing seemed to be coherent enough.

“Take your time.” He decided that this was the best approach to things, making sure neither party got too worked up lest this turn into a fight.

The rain continued to patter softly against the window and your candle continued to burn an slightly off floral-ish scent.  A deafening silence hung in the air because even though he was being as patient as possible some of his frustration leaked through, it was bound to though so you couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, you were probably equally as frustrated with yourself too. 

“I’m just not good in a position like this. I’m not good with kids, especially someone like Eri who’s already so broken. You have that nurturing nature, it comes natural to you but I’m not on that level. I  don’t know the first thing about caring for a child let alone one as already traumatized as her. I’d fuck it up and only make things worse. I don’t want you to reassure me that I’ll be okay with her, I want you to understand that I’m not comfortable with this and that it might take me awhile to come around. I’m sure I sound like the biggest asshole ever but please understand that this just isn’t something I’m ready for.” You had rambled a bit, you were aware of that, but it was the only way that you could properly express your feelings without making things too complicated.

Aizawa said nothing. Trying to figure out how to go about things.

Was he upset? Yeah, you two, even after several long years of being together, hadn’t discussed moving forward in your relationship in depth. And if he’d tried you seemed content with the point you two were at so he left it be, no reason to try and move forward when what you had was already fine the way it was. But recently he’d been craving more. Some mornings, when he’d be the first to wake, he’d study your features in the soft light of the sunrise and wonder what it’d be like to properly settle down with you. Get married, start a family, all that jazz. He’d taken in Eri only because it was the most rational decision. His quirk would be good for quelling hers had it ever gotten out of hand. But it also seemed to quell his musings of something more with you. He had imagined you being a good parental figure for the little girl and it made his heart flutter and his stomach explode with butterflies. But now seeing that that wasn’t what you wanted and how you weren’t ready for it, it stung. But in the end, he loved you. He’d easily give his life for you. So, if that meant waiting he’d wait. He’d wait a million years if he had to. He could do it.

Once again he spoke,

“Take your time then. I can wait.”

Tagslist?: @captainchrisstan (I think you said you wanted to be tagged but I’m also just small brained lol If u didn’t want to and I misinterpreted things just let me know :) )

[365days365movies]

February 18, 2021: The Danish Girl (Review)

Before I go into ANYTHING else...let’s talk about the actual Danish Girl, Lili Elbe, or Lili Ilse Elvenes.

Oh, uh, full warning, this is gonna be LONG, so skip to the bottom if you’re just here for the Review! OK, history time!

Now, what the film The Danish Girl notes about the beginning of the transition is pretty spot-on, from what I can tell. After marrying portrait painter Gerda Gottlieb in 1904, the two lived in Italy and France before moving to Paris in 1912. Yeah, that’s over 14 years before they’re shown doing so in the movie. Inaccuracy #1. In 1908 (here comes number 2), Elbe (Einar at the time) painted this portrait of trees along a fjord in Denmark.

Yeah, NOT in 1926, as the film says. But, yeah, that’s a nitpick, I recognize that. Anyway, the revelation came when model Anna Larssen (not “Ulla”, which is Inaccuracy #3) was late, and Gerda asked Elbe to fill in. When Larssen eventually showed up, she suggested the name “Lili”. Basically, this scene from the movie was pretty goddamn accurate.

Except for the dates, anyway. Because while the movie mostly takes place around 1926 and afterwards, this probably happened closer to 1920, in Paris. So, yeah, Lili spent a LOT more time as Lili in real life. Additionally, Lili was pretty goddamn public about the whole thing, inviting guests and hosting parties as herself, rather than as Einar. At the same time, Gerda was getting pretty goddamn famous for her paintings of Lili, like this one.

Which, yeah, are really good! Also, they were considered lesbian erotica by many! YEAH! And here’s a fun fact: Gerda may not have been straight-up straight. Yeah, the film and the book (we’ll get there) kind of ignored the fact that their marriage was annulled by the Danish government, not by the two of them. Inaccuracy #4. Now, obviously, their relationship ended, and Lili ended up getting together with a man (we’ll get there, too), but there are a LOT of unanswered questions about Gerda’s sexuality, and views of sexuality (which is barely hinted at in the “male gaze” speech in the beginning).

After the annulment, the two just...drifted apart. Their relationship dissolved, and the details on that are fuzzy. By 1930, Lili was headed on a completely different path. She wasn’t a painter like Einar (and it turns out that she thought of them as two entirely separate people, like two souls living in the same body, which the movie got mostly right), and she was mostly unsatisfied with her career, life, and other things. And that is where Drs. Erwin Gohrbandt and Magnus Hirschfeld come in, NOT Kurt Warnerkros...yet. He’d come in for the other five (YES FIVE) surgeries, but wouldn’t be involved with the first. Inaccuracy #5, and also #6, while we’re at it! See, the film would make you think that Lili was the first complete gender reassignment surgery, but she was actually the second. The first would be Dora Richter, in a procedure that was performed by Dr. Hirschfeld from 1922 - 1931. YEAH. BIG-ASS INACCURACY THERE. Here’s Dora, by the way:

Anyway, Lili had her first procedure, to remove the testicles, performed in 1930. In the same year, the divorce between Lili and Gerda was finalized, and Lili legally changed her name. Two more procedures were performed, the first to implant an ovary, and the second to remove the penis and scrotum. Inaccuracy #7, by the way. And, hey, let’s go for number 8! Let’s talk about Henrik, a dude who didn’t exist. He and Hans were both very loosely based on an art dealer named Claude Lejeune.

Claude was an art dealer (there’s the Hans part), and was indeed in love with Lili. They got together around early 1931, and he’d actually been in love with her for a good, long time. He proposed to marry Lili, and she accepted, also hoping that the two would be able to have children together. But to do that, it was believed that Lili would need a uterus. And, obviously, having children would be MILES more complicated than that in basically EVERY way, but this was early in medical science’s understanding of some of that biology.

In any case, however, Lili would need both a uterus and a vagina to feel whole. And so, the fourth surgery was scheduled. And she had that surgery in 1931, a couple of weeks after Dora Richter successfully had the same surgery performed. But, sadly, Lili wouldn’t be so lucky.

Lili’s body rejected the uterus, and while transplant rejections of any kind wouldn’t necessarily be fatal now, they definitely were back then. They attempted to remove it, but that subsequent 5th surgery caused infection, which caused a fatal heart attack three months later. Lili Elbe died on September 13, 1931, at the age of FORTY-EIGHT. Yeah, Inaccuracy #9.

By the way, you may be wondering: what about Dora Richter, the first successful person to get these surgeries? Well, she disappeared...in Germany...as the Nazis were coming into power...yeah. Fuckin’ YIKES.

And so, that’s the true story of Lili Elbe. And there are far more differences than that, I’m sure, but those 9 inaccuracies aren’t insignificant, that’s for sure. Although, it probably doesn’t help that the movie was based on a fictionalized book.

Oh, uh...did I not mention that? Yeah, this movie is based on The Danish Girl, by David Ebershoff, which means that this film is essentially a cinematic game of telephone. Which, uh...not great. Granted, Ebershoof made some other...interesting changes, which the film didn’t inherit. In the book, for example, Gerda is named Greta, and is American? Um...why? I dunno, it’s kind of weird. Oh, and that’s not including one more issue with the movie. But, you’ve waited long enough, huh? Recap of the film is here and here if you wanna check that out! Let’s get to the Review already!

Review

Cast and Acting: 8/10

I am...conflicted. So let me start here by saying that the acting in the film in and of itself is fantastic, all-around. Not a weak actor in here, that’s for sure. Let’s start with the side-roles, for once. Ben Whishaw, Matthias Schoenaerts, and Amber Heard are all good. Heard’s accent is a little shaky, but they’re still all solid performances. OK, how about Alicia Vikander? She’s great! And she won the Oscar for...Best Supporting Actress. Um...wait...Supporting? But not Best Actress? Uh...OK. That’s a little weird, let’s be honest here. But, Alicia Vikander did deserve that win over...oooooooh, Rooney Mara in Carol? Maybe not...damn.

And OK...let’s get into the elephant in the room, huh?

Eddie Redmayne is fantastic as Einar Wegener/Lili Eber, and I genuinely think he had a great shot to win Best Actor...but, yeah, Leonardo DiCaprio definitely deserved it, I think that goes without saying. Hell, that year had a SOLID line-up for best actor. And Redmayne had even won it the year before for The THeory of Everything, another biography where he played Stephen Hawking. But ALL of that said...HNNNNNNNNNG, there should have been a transgender actor cast in this role, ideally. Now, I’m fully aware how difficult that would be, as Hollywood isn’t extraordinarily diverse in terms of including trans actors in massive mainstream projects. It’s better now, but it’s nowhere near ideal. But if anybody knows an actor who would’ve fit this role and performed it well, I’m DEFINITELY interested. So, despite that controversy, Redmayne was pretty goddamn great in this role. But, uh...that doesn’t mean everything is perfect...

Plot and Writing: 5/10

OK, that seems low, I know. But it’s pretty goddamn damning that this movie was based off of a heavily fictionalized book instead of the actual life story of Lili Eber and Gerda Gottlieb. And because of that, there are not only some missed opportunities, but some straight-up damning inaccuracies. That’s a set of pretty poor decisions, I tell you what. Not sure why Lucinda Coxon came to that decision when adapting this screenplay, but it wasn’t exactly nominated for Best Screenplay. And the writing certainly isn’t bad, but it is...overly saccharine sometimes, especially for a film based (loosely) on a true story. I dunno...just not the best set of choices here, sorry to say.

Directing and Cinematography: 8/10

Tom Hooper shouldn’t direct musicals. However, since this wasn’t a musical, directing and cinematography here is pretty damn good! Real talk, this is a gorgeous looking movie, and the way shots are framed are fantastic. Perfect? Weeeeeeeell...given the fact that painting is a main focus of the film, for both Gerda and Einar, there should’ve been more painter-quality shots in here, I think. And while the cinematography by Danny Cohen is pretty fantastic, I can’t say that it’s perfect. Still, in terms of lighting and general skill, it’s still quite a good looking movie.

Production and Art Design: 10/10

But the deficiencies in the direction are EASILY compensated for by the production design! Like, hot DAMN, this is a good looking movie, like I said! That goes from the construction of the sets, to the gorgeous outfits all over the place, especially Lili’s outfits. Some iconic pieces of wardrobe there, that’s for sure! But if I have ONE complaint...this movie never once felt like the 1920s. Yup, good old anachronistic complaints from me again! Yeah, I’ll change the record one of these days, I promise. But even with that, it’s hard to ignore just how good this movie looks, to be honest. It’s just...gorgeous.

Music and Editing: 8/10

As I type this, I’m listening to a track of the film on YouTube, and it is a beautifully delicate tune. I’m not sure that I’d be able to associate it with the film if presented to me on its own, but it’s definitely a nice track to listen to by itself. Playlist worthy? For somebody, almost certainly, but not for me. One of these days, a film like that’s gonna pop up, I swear. But for now, Alexandre Desplat and his score are gonna stay off my iPhone. This really is a nice score, though, I promise. Editing by Melanie Ann Oliver is pretty good as well, and I’ve no complaints about it, to be honest. Overall, this side of things was quite nice, if not the most notable thing I’ve ever seen or heard.

I might have been a little harsh, but it’s still got an 78%.

This is a good movie, but...I dunno, the inaccuracies do bug me. Hell, there are WAY more than what I’d mentioned, and I mentioned a lot. Not to mention the other glaring issue: no trans people at any stage of the production? Really? No script consultants, no writers, no NTOHING? That’s...egregiously bad. Like, holy shit, guys. And, yes, this includes Redmayne, because even though he performed admirably in the role...I dunno. I’m no expert on ANY of this, as a cissexual dude with cissexual experience, but it feels a little...reductive, is all. Like I said, if any other actors have been suggested for this role, I’d love to know. The whole thing feels...I don’t know, just not great. 

And by the way, that’s without even TOUCHING the question as to whether or not this film is authentic to the trans experience. Again, I have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA, but I’ve also heard that this film isn’t universally acclaimed in the trans community, so to speak. And I’m definitely interested in the reasons for that. All I know is this: from the perspective of a complete outsider, I was intrigued by this films view of the transgender experience, specifically as seen in the earliest days of those realizations happening and being publicly known and reported on. And that’s all I can really comment on, in truth.

WHOOF. That was a goddamn topic, huh? And now, I’m going to continue on the the month of romance with...wait, the 19th is my 5-year anniversary with my GF, pictured here:

Ravishing. Anyway, I think I’ll let her pick from my choices for this next one. Hold on a sec...OK, then. Sing it with me now! AND DO I DREEEEEAM AGAAAAIN, FOR NOW I FIIIIIIIIIIIIIND...

February 19, 2021: The Phantom of the Opera (2004)

[phantomnostalgist]

My review of The Phantom of Manhattan, 1999

Digging through the Wayback Machine, I found what I once wrote about Frederick Forsyth's Phantom of Manhattan. Y'know, the pile of crap ALW did in fact improve when creating Love Never Dies.

This is what I posted on my website circa 2005, posting what I'd written when the book was published in 1999. I'm not even going to re-read it, I'm just going to paste it, in case I cringe and want to edit it. But from my brief skim read, I lolled. Also, I never got beyond reading the first few chapters, I hated it that much. I gave my copy to another phan, so she could throw it against the wall and scream too.

The Phantom of Manhattan, aka, a pile of pigshit

Frederick Forsyth collaborated with Andrew Lloyd Webber on this novel, a sequel to The Phantom of the Opera (a novel in which the lead character dies at the end), published in 1999. At the time I posted my initial review to the Phantom mailing list - only the introduction and first chapter, because after that it became too painful. I present those posts below. They are, needless to say, opinionated.

Date: Mon, 26 Jul 1999 19:54:29 -0700

From: Christine Daae

Subject: POTO: Phantom of Manhattan preview - BAD news

I have just obtained an advance reading copy of The Phantom of Manhattan, the Phantom sequel by Frederick Forsyth which will form the basis of ALW's sequel to the show, if he ever writes it. This sequel was written working with Andrew Lloyd Webber.

So far I've just read Forsyth's preface, and it made me so angry and so sick to my stomach that I have to rant before reading any further. I'll give this post a swear words warning since I doubt I can write it without swearing a lot. If you don't like swearing, you've been warned. Mr Forsyth, in his preface, introduces the reader to the Leroux novel - and then graces us with the information that Leroux was "wrong". He acknowledges it as fiction but clearly feels that the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical is in fact the definitive version, and Leroux is incorrect and stupid. For instance: "He appears also to have made an error with the position, appearance and intelligence of Mme. Giry, an error corrected in the Lloyd Webber musical." Excuse me, fuckhead, but Leroux invented the character. Forsyth also tells us at length how implausible the story as told by the Persian is, as well as: "Prior to the intervention of the Persian, Leroux the writer and most readers might have felt some human sympathy for the Phantom.... The Persian however paints him as a raging sadist, a serial killer and strangler for pleasure" etc, etc. Did we read the same book? According to Forsyth, however, "Fortunately there is one flaw in the Persian's story so glaring as to permit us to disbelieve the whole lot. He claimed that Erik had had a long and fulfulling life before coming to dwell in the cellars of the opera house... [fills in background of Erik from novel]. This allegation has to be nonsense. If the man had enjoyed such a life over so many years he would certainly have come to terms with his own disfigurement." Along with more piffle disputing Leroux's story. Dear me Mr Forsyth, you should have read Susan Kay's version too. She has no difficulty giving us a far more psychologically accurate portrait of the Phantom than this pigcrap.

"The only logical step for a modern analyst to take, as Andrew Lloyd Webber has already done with the musical, is to discount the Persian's accounts and allegations in their totality, and never more so than in disbelieving both the Persian and Leroux than the Phantom died shortly after the events narrated."

He does not, however, tell us WHY one should assume this. Oh, silly me, the answer to that is obvious - so we can write a sequel and make a bucket of money from it. Can't do that with a dead Phantom.

I am so sickened that it's difficult for me to even start reading this book. How DARE Forsyth, and Lloyd Webber, insult and write off Leroux in this manner? ALW should remember that if it wasn't for Leroux's novel he would not have his billions from his most popular and successful show. I sincerely hope that one day someone mutilates one of Forsyth's novels in this manner.

I'll review the story itself when I can cope with reading the book. I never expected just a preface to be quite this angering.

Date: Tue, 27 Jul 1999 03:09:45 -0700

From: Christine Daae

Subject: POTO: Phantom of Manhattan Chapter 1

Just finished chapter 1 and have to get this out of my system or I'll never be able to get to sleep.

It gets worse, and worse, and worse.

Mr. Forsyth has taken the liberty of dating the action of the novel (or rather the show, since he ignores the novel) later than usual, in 1893. In 1882, in his version of events, Mme Giry finds and rescues the 16 year old Erik, who has been chained in a cage for 9 years. This makes him 27 during the action of the novel and show. As we know, Leroux's Erik was over 50. Lloyd Webber's original intention for the musical was also clearly to have an older Erik as the casting of Michael Crawford (and Colm Wilkinson in his very first try-out) shows. Yet according to Forsyth, and apparently now ALW, he was just 27. He had never lived in Persia, never travelled the world. He is given the name Erik Muhlheim. He was born not in a village near Rouen, but in the Alsace, to circus folk. His father was a drunk who beat him, his mother a useless fool. He learned his many skills at the circus, or later, at the opera house. Giry rescues him and keeps him in her home for a month, before letting him into the Opera House where he builds himself a home by the lake and learns all about music. Oh yes, and the bath Giry gave him was the first he'd taken in his life.

Sorry, but Susan Kay's description of Erik's past is far more accurate to Leroux and far more psychologically convincing.

Buquet killed himself, we learn. Erik did not mean to kill Piangi (who is not even in the novel), it was an accident, he just meant to silence him (with a rope??). At the end of the show Giry finds Erik and hides him out, then sends him to New York on a boat.

I am summoning up the courage to begin Chapter 2, narratted by Erik Muhlheim himself in New York.

I wish there was a law against this.

And remember, all ye who felt that ALW would never let Hollywood do anything bad to the show - ALW himself helped Forsyth come up with this trash.

[waxesnostalgic]

Making Normal Channels in GIMP (with njob)

Hello everyone! I was explaining how to do this in the Sims of History discord server and realized how much of this process I learned through trial and error. There isn’t really a good step-by-step tutorial about how to do this in GIMP, only in Photoshop (at least no text-based tutorials). While I use both Photoshop and GIMP for various things, I prefer to make my normal channels in GIMP. This tutorial will walk you through the process and hopefully demystify normal channels in GIMP.

Normal channels (bump maps) add additional depth beyond your mesh, which is useful for things like folds, painted on pockets, and buttons.

This tutorial is particularly for how to make Create-a-Sim items, not objects, but a lot of steps should be transferable.

You will need (all free programs):

GIMP

njob

Sims4Studio and/or CAS Tools

First, open your diffuse texture in GIMP. I often try to use the light/base texture rather than one I have colored already, but if you have already colored it and didn’t save a base, don’t worry, it doesn’t make much of a difference. Don’t use an image which has a pattern applied to it, as that will create a bump on the pattern and appear like applique or something along those lines (unless that is your goal).

I recommend doing this step after you have tested your diffuse texture image and mesh (if applicable) in the game. If you have any last minute changes to either of these, you will probably need to re-do your normal from scratch.

If your image is in layers for recoloring, or not, choose to flatten the image.  Transparency isn’t helpful in making normal channels, so get rid of it so you won’t have to worry about it later.

Once you have flattened it, the background usually turns either black or white. It doesn’t really matter which one, it won’t make much of a difference in njob.

Now, select the crop tool. You can see the current dimensions of the image in the “aspect ratio” box. For a CAS items, the original will be 1024:2048, which is 1 x 2. We will need to crop the image into a 1 x 1, or perfect square.

To have your normal channel as high quality as possible, you should use 1024:1024. This will work for clothing items like full body outfits, tops, bottoms, gloves, socks, and tights (basically anything mapped in this bottom portion of the UV map). For all of these items, you must use a square and cannot crop it to be smaller. For shoes, this means a very large blank area.

For accessory items like jewelry and hats, the cropping is different. For instance, a hat would be 512:256. If you are unsure of the dimensions to use, export the normal channel on the maxis item and copy its dimensions. The following instructions will assume you are making a clothing item and not an accessory item.

Click anywhere on the image while you have the crop tool active, then adjust your dimensions in the box to the left. You can manually type it in or drag the box and follow the size in the box as you drag.

The box should be perfectly aligned with the bottom and have no space below. If you have space below, just drag it as far to the bottom as you can. GIMP will stop you from dragging it outside of your current dimensions. If a little is sticking out at the top, that is okay. Nothing can be mapped outside of the 1024:1024 dimensions, so it is probably just bleed over or space filler that you are cropping off.

Press “Enter” on your keyboard to complete the crop.

Optional Step: If you desire, you may want to decrease the brightness and increase the contrast on your image so there will be more for njob to pick up. If you already have a lot of contrast, you may not need to do this.

Next, export your image as a PNG or BMP. Be sure to not overwrite your original diffuse texture.

You can now close GIMP, though you will need to open it again later.

Open njob, then your saved, cropped image.

Maximize your screen so you can see what you’re doing.

Go to Filter > Diffusemap > Heightmap and select that option.

The screen will pause to load for a bit before opening up a new box.

Your image will convert to black and white and may look a bit strange. The first step is to change your “Course Detail” setting to the lowest (or close to the lowest) setting and your “Fine Detail” to the highest setting. I generally play around with the “Mid Detail” and “Scale” until I get what I want. Try to have what you want to be visible stand out, while folds should be soft and fuzzy but still somewhat distinguishable.

Once you have what you need, click OK and go to Filter > Heightmap > Normalmap

There are two settings, “Scale” and “Blur Radius.” Neither of them have “ideal” settings, so you will need to adjust as you need. “Scale” controls the depth of the contrast and “Blur Radius” impacts the softness of the image. If your edges are too harsh, your normal map may look odd in game.

You will probably also have lines in areas in no texture. This is normal, and I will go over how to remove those later.

Once you are satisfied with how things look, save the image as a bitmap.

Now, open your bitmap image in GIMP. It is time to clean up the image and get rid of the artifacts. Unfortunately, unlike a specular, a normal map doesn’t have a mask to prevent bleed over onto skin or other textures. The unused areas need to be a midrange, solid grey. It is easier to edit at this step before you create your transparency.

Select a midrange blue color from one of the blank areas with your color selector and make it your background color by using the arrow button between the foreground and background colors.

Select the areas that should be blank and delete them, which will replace the lines with a solid blue color. This would be areas around the neck, wrists and ankles, and also places like the filler beneath skirts and tops that doesn’t need texturing. Be sure to select the odd lines around the image, which are usually a bright teal or hot pink color. Those can be very visible.

Sometimes, you may need to take your paintbrush and clean up the artifacts if they are in curved or very small areas. If anything looks too sharp, you can also use the smudge brush to smooth it out (very lightly). But don’t move anything around too much.

Once you have cleaned up your image, export it again as a bitmap. This is just so you can go back to it if you make a mistake later or need to modify it. Usually I save it as a new image, but you can overwrite the old one if you are feeling confident.

I have to point out that sometimes you can get away with not cleaning the artifacts from your image. But I have had too many issues with it in the past to skip this step.

Now it is time to make the normal map. Finally!

In the layers area, right click on your single layer and add an alpha channel to it. There is also a small button at the bottom you can use to add an alpha channel. You will need this transparency for the next step.

Next, go to Colors > Components > Decompose.

A small box will open up. Change your color model from RGB to RGBA to enable the alpha channel as a separate channel (layer).

Now, a new image will open that is your bitmap but greyscale. You will see four layers on the side called red, green, blue and alpha.

Select the red layer and click CTRL + A on your keyboard to select the entire layer. Then, click CTRL + C to copy the layer. (If you don’t have a keyboard, you can do “Select all” and “Copy” but this takes longer).

Now, go to your layer named alpha and press CTRL + V (paste) and CTRL + H (to anchor the layer). Now, you have replaced the alpha channel with the red channel.

Next, go to the green layer and select and copy it. Paste and anchor it into the red and blue layers, just as you did before with the red layer and alpha layer.

Your image won’t look too much different right now, it will just look like the green alpha channel rather than the visible red alpha channel when you opened it. Go back to the top bar and choose Colors > Components > Recompose. This will alter your original image, so the one you have open in layers will stay open. Go back up to the top and select the original image to go back to it, or close your layered image.

Now, your image should have changed from mostly blue to a transparent, mid-range gray with only a few elements visible. This is how it is supposed to look. If you don’t have transparency or it looks very different, then you probably messed up somewhere. Generally, I find it easier to go back to the original cleaned up bitmap (that you saved for future use) and start from scratch rather than trying to figure out where I messed up. That is usually faster.

Next, export your single-layer image as a PNG or DDS file (your preference). You will need a DDS plugin to save DDS files.

Open your item in Sims4Studio and import your new image file in the normal texture category. You will see a small preview in the box, which will probably show more details than you were able to see in GIMP. If it looks correct, save it and go to check it in game or in CASTools (which has a feature for previewing bumpmaps that can help you check for alignment problems). CASTools can be particularly useful if your computer doesn’t open the Sims quickly and you want to preview multiple bumpmaps. The only issue with CASTools is that it doesn’t really look much like it will look in game.

In CASTools. You have to select to see the bumpmap in the Previewer tab.

In game.

As I have only been making normal channels for a few months now, it’s possible I have missed some things, so if you know an easier or better way let me know and I can update the tutorial. I hope this is useful to you!

[washymylifeaway]

SunaOsa fanfic recs: valentines edition~~

SunaOsa is one of my all time favorite ships and this past month, there has been/was an exchange going on between writers (here is the link) and artists (separately) and because I don’t have a life (or maybe it’s just that SunaOsa is my life LOL), I’m here to tell you some of my favorite fics from the pile :D However, as much as I love a ship, sometimes fluff is too asajndajnd so mind you there will probably be a lot of good fics missing just cause I couldn’t get myself to read more fluff (or angst) LOL (IM SORRY but sometimes I also just can’t motivate myself to read a fic no matter how good it looks OOPS).

As always, please check warning and tags before reading any of these fics, and take care of yourselves!!!!

In no particular order (jk the order is last updated haha) tho my favorites will have *** next to them :)

***glass stained black by unrequitedangst (E) 31k // Mafia AU’s are some of my favorite kinds of fics, and this one did not disappoint! The character development of Osamu is really legit and despite being mafia, it’s not that heavy or angst of a fic (but you should still definitely read tags and warnings first). It’s an Osamu heavy fic, and if you’re into reading him being stupid, go right ahead LOL.

redux by catalysis (T) 2.3k // ngl I hate break-up fics with a passion truely (when you can’t handle fluff or angst what to do) but I liked the concept for this one hehe (so I made myself suffer LOL). It was short, but cute !!! and the unspoken words really hit me in the FEELS (so what I’m dramatic fight me LOL).

Impropriety by DeathBelle (T) 5.7k // royalty~ I love the banter between them in this fic and we DO stan respectful Osamu yes we do <33333 The relationships between not only SunaOsa but SunaAtsu (because even though it isn’t really SunaAtsu best friend agenda, I can delude myself into think it is okay :/) are done so well and so nice he’s mean Osamu is best Osamu.

***what are you waiting for? by Slumber (T) 3.7k // MIGHT BE MY FAV FIC FROM THIS EXCHANGE!!! It made me cackle and I love how they learn new things about each other!!!! Like the development is so good and Suna is really doing the MOST!! Also, I love recursive endings AHHHHHH!

agape by sketchedsmiles (T) 11.7k // soulmates, then they were SOULMATES! (ik that’s not how it goes but pls just humor me LOL) This fic really depicted Osamu’s insecurities/internal turmoil/overthinking really well and the realization he has vs Suna’s AHJAFKASFJ. I love confident Suna.

fireside by tartaglia (starkartifices) (T) 3.6k // we do love the subtle flirt flirt don’t we hehe ;) It’s short, it’s fluff, and it’s funny - what more could you ask for? Also whats a vigilante fic if there isn’t at least one pun about being a vigilante LOL.

Over and Over Again by tookumade (G) 6.4k // I would like to order one reassuring, reliable Miya Osamu for myself please and thank you :((( The way the relationship is so GOOD like both Suna and Osamu pick each other up and they know the other has their back ajfhkajdfl. I would purchase all the onigiri with the deal Suna was proposing ;) Onigirintarou.

from here to eternity by TheGlovedArtist (T) 6.6k // I for one am a big fan of mythology and stuff (heroes of olympus but like IDR any of the plot LOL) so of course I read this fic. The snark appearances of Sakusa and Komori gave me LIFE and the difference in descriptions from Astumu and Kita cracked me up. This is another respectful Osamu fic (yes I love these) and in this one it was a ‘I save you as much as you save me’ type beat LOL. Gotta love rings.

***Subtle Inarizaki Dating by sifuhotman (T) 15.2k // THIS ONE. Even if you don’t read the whole thing, I beg of you, please, I AM ON MY KNEES, read the SID for Astumu. It is worth the loss of all your brain calls I guarantee it. It made me giggle so freakin much. Suna might be an A-Hole but he’s OUR A-Hole <3

Forever Begins with 8 Seconds by subtlehues (T) 3.9k // FLUFF hehe, I love their dynamic in this one it’s very good and cute and everything great! Also, I am all for the head cannon that Suna cannot cook, yes pls. Also SUPERPOWERS whooooooooh.

***try again, and again, and again by rosegoldwriting (T) 2.6k // SOULMATES! If you ever wanted a specific soulmate AU! for SunaOsa look no further, it probably comes out LOL. I love this concept of them just being like ‘WTF’ everyday, it gives me life. Also, count how many soulmate AU’s you recognized because I just thought about it and I think it’d be fun LOL. (I went back and I think 11 but I’m not sure LOL)

let us burn by SilverMoonT (G) 13.5k // I am always up for a nice vampire Osamu and witch Suna (which believe it or not, is my second one because I read the other one by this writer LOL) This one is more Suna POV and it really goes into his fears and desires, and I like the way Osamu pushes him to live more freely.

***reasons to microwave an elixir by spiritscript (T) 8.2k // THIS ONE. UGH I love, and it’s funny and cute and it EVEN HAS CRIME (kinda not really but yes)! I love the quiet moments they have and the PET AHHHHHHH! We love medic Osamu :DDDDD But also the betrayal and the sparring (and the irony at the end LOL) AJSKJNFK.

we fall between by stringendos (T) 14.7k // honestly the entire time I was just screaming at my computer, begging for them to hurry up and realize, but alas this is a ~slow burn~ for a reason and the tag ‘exes who act like theyre married’ really is the reason I read it and I do not regret LOL. Also bless Matsuda and stan her.

All the Time in the World by minie_ai (M) 8.8k // we love immortality! Denial! And Suna mentally filing away blackmail against people (namely Astumu) LOL. Running away from your problems is always the answer (I am saying this is a not sarcastic manner because I too, run away from my problems LOL) but ramen is ALWAYS a good answer. We love ourselves some emotional constipation LOL.

***none but you by broikawa (T) 7.2k // everything is a competition always LOL, not that I’m complainin but still LOL EVERYTHING. I really love this one because I love the progression and cock-block SakuAtsu hehe. I love them being synchronized idiots <3

it all comes back to you, (my home) by iritaescents (T) 4.5k // FOREVER, WE STAN FOREVER. Anyway, LOL this was is very very cute and fluff and not slow burn, it fast burn LOL. It’s a cute fic to read and it even has our favorite, now say it with me SOULMATES LOL.

Can't help falling in bed with you by tirralirra (T) 6.7k // here we see a 5 + 1 with points for the title (I think it’s very funny LOL my humor is bad ;)) Not that it really needs extra points because it’s a great fic in itself LOL but I really liked the title so I felt the need to share this with you all (OOPS). This was so cute, and the + 1 is HILARIOUS.

It’s no longer up :(((((( -> love's consequences by xginpuff (T) 6.5k // WARNINGS AND TAGS been a while since we had an angsty fic in this list (LOL the way I just tried to avoid all of them hehe). I read the tags but ngl I was still surprised later LOL maybe I’m just dumb, but anyway IK it starts out a bit confusing, but after you read more, you’ll get into it!

***sunagashi by bastigod (T) 9.8k // if there’s anything I like more than mythology, it’s folklore LOL. I love this fic and the plot is written so artfully AHDSAJN. Also the scene with the Ume-chan and her comment (so snarky I love). Also they way I went through so much trouble trying to figure out the kanji LOL (SPOILER it’s miyarin hehe)

catch me (while i'm still runnin') by lunarins (T) 4.3k // first and foremost, may we have a moment of silence for Komori and his eyebrows..... Continuing, this fic was so good because I love a good heist hehe. Their slight of hand abilities really doing the most LOL, and the ending OMG. I love the way the writer added in how they appeared to others during the heist, it really made it so good! Ugh to have a painting class and almost die LOL.

***if we get this right by Slumber (G) 5k // OLD FRIEND plsplspls I love this fic and I love how Osamu slowly relearns who he knew Suna as AHHH. The ending, again UGH, I really loved it and their banter with one another.

The Study of Suna Rintarou by DeathBelle (T) 6.1k // PLEASE the way Osamu kept getting offended omg. But also the effort Suna puts into getting to know Osamu, I was in ~love~. Read to me Osamu, READ TO ME. But also the Osamu is an oblivious MF agenda is alive and well within this fic hehe.

Take a Hint by pancake_surprise (G) 2.3k // ok so I had just read a tumbr post about the one bed thing and then I saw this fic. It was like the stars aligned okay? I was like, ig I HAVE to read it now hehe. But seriously read it, it’s cute and like everything else, of course there’s a challenge to be made LOL.

Heatwave by pancake_surprise (G) 2.1k // the way they were dating without knowing they were dating man. The tag ‘Didn't Know They Were Dating‘ more accurate than the ‘first dates’ one LOL jk but actually tho am I kidding? It’s the first official one IG. LOL anyway, we do love the doin of the defining of relationships. Yup.

If you made it all the way down here, CONGRATS LOL. Like I said, I didn’t read all of them (sadly) and these were the ones i did read LOL. I might add more depending on whether I can motivate myself into reading fics I know will be good LOL so we’ll see heh. Honestly, I thought I was gonna get word counted, but YAY we finished (for now hehe). Also sorry for any possible typos (is this no beta we die like men?) I’m running on 90 min of sleep so my engrish be strugglin LOL. Be safe and wear masks :)

[hecksee]

Stained Flowers

Hi this is angsty af but im struggling right now so imma project onto fictional characters

Sorry @lumosinlove I like making Leo suffer

this is my entry for the @hpbrokenhearts ​ contest, i started out writing this when i was struggling, and tbh i still am, but it’s gotten a lot better. 

Much thanks to the wonderful @iswearimnotanaestheticgirl for editing this monstrosity. You wrecked carnage on it, but it helped so much and I love this end result so much. 

Thank you so much to @peggyrose19 and @marauderss-hp for looking this over and giving me suggestions! 

This is probably inaccurate but I don’t know anything about hockey, and this is fanfic so who cares about the accuracy. 

THIS COULD DEFINITELY BE TRIGGERING, PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

TW suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, its got a TINY bit of spice sprinkled in (i would rate this teen probably, mature if i was being extra safe), major character death, stress, homophobia, one sided pining, hanakhai, vomiting, something thats sort of like a suicide note, and a shit load of angst

Read on A03 here

Leo knew he was screwed the moment he saw Finn O'Hara on the screen for the first time. He knew he was gonna fall hard. It didn't matter that they had never met or that Leo’s attraction was purely physical. He knew that he would want everything with Finn.

But then Leo started to fall deeper and deeper over time, time that was spent mostly spent obsessing over Finn. Only a few weeks after Leo saw Finn for the first time, it started.

Everybody knew about hanahaki. When someone felt unrequited love, a seed sprouted in their lungs. Nobody knew how or why the seed appeared but it was inevitable. 

The victim would start coughing up flower petals, and if their feelings grew, the flowers would grow larger until the victim couldn’t breath because their lungs were filled with nothing but blossoms.

There were only three things someone with hanahaki could do. The main solution was to surgically remove the flowers but have all feelings of love vanish. And some said it was impossible to ever love another person.

So Leo knew exactly what was going on when he started coughing up small yellow petals a few weeks after he first saw Finn on screen. 

But, over the next few months he learned to recognize the signs. The tingling in the back of his throat before he started coughing up the silky yellow petals. The itch in his left lung when people mentioned Finn O'Hara. The stabbing pain toward the left of his chest when his teammates threw around homophobic slurs and comments like beads at Marti Gras is nothing new, but now it's accompanied with a burning sensation in his lungs and bloody daffodils.

The daffodils. The fucking daffodils. He decided to look the meaning of the cheery flowers up one day. Unrequited love. After that Leo laughed humorlessly, and decided that hanahaki had a fucked up sense of humor.

Somehow, Leo made it through a full year while coughing up a mixture of blood and petals. He learned how to hide it, how to excuse himself from a situation, and how to choke the petals back down while playing. He made sure that nothing would impact his career, no matter how much longer he had left.

Leo feared that his time was almost up some days. On those days, he wondered Why was he alive? Why did only the left lung sting? Wouldn't it just be better to end it than to live through the constant pain?

He almost made it through a year keeping his hanahaki a secret. 

Well, almost. His mom walked in on him cleaning the daffodils smeared with red off the floor, and he had promptly broken down in tears.

He had ended up telling her everything, how he was gay, how he hated himself for it, how he sometimes thought it would be better to just end it all instead, who he loved and why.

His mom had made him tell his coach, insisting it was for the best. There had been a major fight between the coach and him. Leo was yelling and crying but standing his ground about how he needed to play. How playing was the only thing he was living for, damn it. Leo had ended up winning, so he kept playing. And just like before, he kept the hanahaki a secret from everyone, especially his team.

But then, he found out why only his left lung stung. Logan Tremblay. The latest player that was drafted to the Lions. He was newly minted, fresh from Harvard university. Short, broad, brunet, green eyed rookie Tremz. 

As soon as Logan stepped out onto the ice for the first time Leo felt that telltale sting. But it was on the right side of his chest for the first time. Fuck, I'm not having unrequited love from one person, but from two?! 

His right lung had irises. Royalty, the Fleur-De-Lis, France. Leo didn’t know how those things related to Logan but he could take a guess. Logan was French Canadian born and raised, that had to mean something. 

Leo’s life went on. Now he had double the work of fighting the flowers down. Two names instead of one. Leo could tell there was something between Fish and Logan. The intense stares they gave each other across the rink meant something. The tension between them one day had just disappeared. Leo saw something as Logan's hot temper reared up whenever Harzy got into a fight or got hurt. 

The signs grew. Rainbow tape on their sticks, posting LGBTQ+ supporting messages on the team Instagram; small things you’d need to look out for, or know exactly what they meant to know the significance. 

The real confirmation was when the official Lions Instagram posted the picture of Logan and Finn kissing at a pride parade, smudged bi flags painted on both of their cheeks. 

The caption read “We are aware of the homophobia in the league, however, two of our players aren’t willing to hide their relationship from the public anymore. Both Tremz and Harzy have our full support.” 

The moment he saw it, the feeling of petals started to itch in the back of Leo’s throat, but he gagged them back as he scrolled through the comments. They were filled with the expected bigotry and homophobia with the occasional biphobic comment. Yet scattered in were the kind comments, full of support, rays of sunshine on a raining day.

Leo started typing out a comment of his own, telling the happy couple how happy he was for them. But the lie was rancid in his head. The flowers Leo had been choking back came up in a wave of blood. 

Before Leo got hanahaki, the few dreams he had were filled with a faceless man. One that would kiss him and fuck him, but now, now there were two men. And they had faces. 

Finn O'Hara and Logan Tremblay haunted Leo's dreams in the best way possible, more nights than not. Sweet soft kisses, hands tangled in auburn or brown hair, gently worshiping the hard planes and angles that came from a lifelong dedication to hockey were commonplace in Leo's dreams. 

In stark contrast, some nights were filled with sloppy, urgent kisses, nails scratching on backs, and a pure need for release. But the dreams would always end, and Leo was left with the burning pain of self loathing building up in his throat before the flowers would make themselves known.

During this dream, Leo had been on fire all night, and it was thanks to him that the team had been led to victory. So here he was with his boyfriends, celebrating. 

Leo leaned up to give Finn a soft kiss before turning onto his side and beginning to kiss Logan's neck. Finn had started to ruin Leo and didn't stop until Leo had hit the peak of his pleasure.

However, the aftermath of Leo's pleasure was slowly but surely turning into pain. Suddenly the metallic tang of blood was clogging his throat and the familiar smooth petals were filling his mouth. 

The flowers and blood were dripping out of his mouth, and seeping into the white bed sheets. Even worse was that Finn and Logan seemed unsurprised.  no, they were almost happy. Their gentle murmurings of praise turned into cold raucous laughter. In between the harsh laughter they told him how stupid he was, how he was a nobody, how they would never love him.

As the flowers only got worse, coming up in waves and mingled with the tears that were rolling down his face, Finn and Logan vanished. Then he was falling, falling, falling. 

He woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, lungs gasping for air in between choking sobs; lying in a combination of petals and blood. His face was sticky with tears and warm, wet blood, and a few stray yellow and white-ish purple petals stuck to his skin. The only indicator that Leo's dream wasn't all bad was the stickiness in his underwear. But the worst part was that he was alone, stuck with only fantasies, once again.

The next day, Leo knew that practice would be bad. Even though yesterday his team was idolizing the Lions, they sure as hell wouldn’t be idolizing them right now. Practice was full of his teammates throwing around a myriad of slurs. The locker-room was even worse, where the coach wasn’t there to monitor their comments. 

Leo fidgeted with his bracelet, uncomfortable with the comments that were flying around, with the flowers edging up his throat. He didn’t remember what happened next. 

One minute Leo’s fidgeting with his bracelet, the next he’s yelling. Yelling about how people aren’t judged by their sexuality, how hell, maybe there even was a gay person in the room! To that he was obviously asked if he was the gay one, to which, he responded yes. Leo stormed out of the room to a soundtrack, suppressing the flowers fighting their way up his throat as soundtrack of cruel laughter and biting words rang around the room, just like the ones in his dream. 

The next day he dreaded going to practice. He knows he won’t be welcome on the team anymore, so what’s the point of going?

Leo ended up just texting his old coach that he was resigning. His team broadcasted the fact that he’s gay on their Instagram. Now Leo’s the target of the myriad of hate that Finn and Leo faced. It made him sick to his stomach. Seconds later, he was puking into the toilet. No flowers this time, but still unpleasant. 

He still walked with dragging steps to the rink and practiced, of course. He didn’t want to lose his skills when he attempts to go pro. Trying to ignore the fact that he knows no one will take him now. 

Out of the blue, three days after Leo outed himself, his phone rings shrilly. Marlene McKinnon. The Lions announcer. Why was she calling him?

Marlene asked him to play for the Lions because he had great potential. Leo hesitated. Did she not know that he was gay? He pensively inquired about his sexuality, how would that impact his place on the team? 

To his surprise, Marlene told him it wouldn’t influence anything. Leo was shocked, but in the happy way. Then she asked if he had any health conditions. Just like the thing about his sexuality, Leo hesitated. Eventually he nodded and said yes. 

It’s hanahaki, he told her in a slow voice, but it doesn’t impact my playing.

Fucking lie. 

Marlene was silent for a moment but then put him on hold with some shaky words. 5 minutes later, she agrees to let him play, on the condition that his hanahaki doesn’t get worse, and if it does, he needs to have them removed. Leo agreed, and suddenly, Leo was going professional. 

Sure, Leo was worried about becoming a Lion; his subjects of affection were there and they were in a happy relationship. But over time, and many, many practices filled with words thrown at O’Hara and Tremblay, he had learned to choke back the petals. 

After a few months, the day came where Leo was leaving. With many tears, and a lot of goodbyes, Leo left for Gryffindor. After a couple long flights, and a short taxi ride, Leo stepped out of the car to Hogwarts. 

Inside the rink, he was greeted with the signature smell of a hockey arena, he couldn’t quite describe it, but it was pleasant, and reminded Leo of home. 

In a blink, he was bombarded with maroon and gold, hugs and welcoming words. When he turned his head from the excitement, he saw them. Finn and Logan, standing back with Pascal Dumais, who he was going to move in with. 

After meeting everyone and flipping out while Finn and Logan give him a hug while swallowing down the familiar liquid and petals that up, Leo was informed that he won’t be living with the Dumais’ after all. 

“You’ll be living with Finn and Logan, I hope that’s alright?”

Leo quickly excuses himself to the bathroom to let the mixture of flowers, blood, and bile out. 

But Leo ended up moving in with Fish and Tremz. However over the weeks, he formed a close bond with both Finn and Logan. Of course, he became closer with the rest of the team, Loops especially. Hell, Leo has a feeling that Loops knows what it feels like to love someone who will never love him back. 

But after Sirius and Loops get together, Leo knew that he’s the only one who will never get the privilege of having requited love. 

Leo was glad that he had managed to keep it a secret from the team. Well, there were some people he had to tell. After all, Remus was the team medic. Remus was keeping it a secret from the team and the public. But Remus didn’t know who was triggering Leo’s love. The only people who knew were Leo and his mother. 

Each practice where the two of them do anything lovey dovey, Leo needs to be excused while he chokes back the flowers that are bringing themselves up his throat. But his goalie face hadn't been developed over happy things, so he shoved his feelings back and forced himself to remain calm, pretending to support their relationship; which he did, of course he did, but Leo wished more than anything that he was there with them. Leo wishes he was there in between them, wishes he was the one holding hands with them, and sharing sweet soft kisses with them. 

Hell, more than once in the time when Leo was with the Lions he considered ending it all. The thoughts weren’t new, no, he’d been struggling with them since he had realized he was gay. But now, with the objects of Leo’s affection so close yet so far, he didn’t know if it would be worth living.

But then one day, about three years after the hanahaki had started, Leo woke up with agonizing pain in his chest, like someone was squeezing a palm around his heart. He thought back. The aching had worsened every time he interacted Finn and Logan. Now the flowers were coming up almost every hour of every day. The tingling feeling is now always at the back of his mind. As soon as Leo thought about Finn and Logan he felt flowers coming up. 

The flowers are accompanied with a burning pain instead of a small stab. All of the flowers are full blossoms, a few with stems and leaves. They’d be perfect and prim, beautiful, if they weren’t coated in enough blood to look like a murder scene. 

This was it; this was one of his last days, if not his last. 

With slow robotic steps, Leo stands up, taking some deep breaths. He fished a pen and a notebook from his cabinet, and started to write four letters.

The words to his family tell them how sorry he was at how bad he was at hiding his worsening hanahaki, how much he loves them, and how he wishes he could have said goodbye in person. 

“I’m sorry for causing you pain.”

In the letter towards the team he apologized for hiding his disease and explained how thankful he was to be a part of his dream team. He told them how different the Lions were to his old teams, how they were a family and how they loved each other no matter what, regardless of their differences.

“Thank you for being like a family to me.” 

In the one addressed to Logan and Finn, Leo explained how they were the subjects of his attraction, how much they influenced his life coming out by choice, consequences be damned. Through blood, sweat, tears and flowers, he found himself rattling on and on about how much he loved them, how he fell in love with them, and how much he valued the friendship they had; even if it was just friendship. Leo’s hand lingered as he thought about it. Would this letter cause the two of them to blame themselves? Should he really write it? 

No. He had to. Leo added a note telling them not to. It wasn’t their fault, it was his choice. 

He brushed away the crimson mess. With droplets of blood staining his fingers, Leo starts on the final and most formal letter. 

Leo wrote vaguely in this letter. He told that he did have hanahaki, and how he had dealt with it for years before he joined the Lions. He publicly commends the Lions for being so accepting of him, even though he had hanahaki and he was gay. Finally, he thanked his fans for staying with him through it all. 

Then, with all the letters finished, Leo sealed them in envelopes and wrote to whom they are addressed to. Gingerly, Leo placed them on his nightstand and prepared for his final practice. 

During practice Leo told everyone how much he appreciates them, which wasn’t too unusual, so nobody took much notice. Otherwise, practice was uneventful. Leo blocked some passes as they prepped for their game with Hufflepuff next week. 

Leo was coughing almost nonstop during practice but he chokes back the blood, bile, and flowers. He allowed himself to think that this is the last time he’d have to push it down. The aching pain in his chest doesn’t subside, if anything it only grew worse the longer practice goes on. 

Leo walked into the locker-room, preparing to take a shower and stretch before heading home when the aching in his chest grew. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears and the world around him blurred. He swayed, unsteady on his feet, trying not to cry or scream. His breaths were labored, he was becoming lightheaded and his heart was pounding in his chest. The pain became too much to bear and Leo’s legs failed on him.

The team rushes over with concerned expressions on their faces. On his knees, the flowers, stems, and leaves start to come up, splattering all over the cold ground, no matter what Leo does to try and keep them back. The team became frenzied, calling for Remus. 

It was too late. Leo knew that this was his end. 

Once, when Leo was little, he asked his grandmother why people didn't just get the flowers removed. She smiled at him sadly and told him that, there might be a person you loved so much you couldn't bear the idea of not loving them. Even if you died for it. 

At the time, he brushed it off as stupid but now, now as tears sqeezed through his blurry vision and the feeling of the cold tile floor disappears, he understands exactly what she meant. 

The last thought that went through his mind, before the petals, flowers, and blood came up for the last time, was of his two loves. In an instant, all of his fantasies of Finn and Logan melted into the reality of their friendship and flew past his eyes. With one last satisfied smile, Leo closed his eyes. His grandma was right. 

Some love really was worth dying for.

Just a quick reminder, this is my entry for @hpbrokenhearts so if you liked this fic or it made you cry/broke your heart, please put a broken heart in the comments, either in emoji form or not! Thank you so much for reading!!!

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 17 - With Him

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, how will it go in the end?, 4.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

One finger tapped on the strap of his fanny pack as Alex listened for the right bus stop to be called. If all those months since he’d seen Willie had been long, this past week had been longer. Especially since the news about Caleb had hit hard and every minute in the studio now felt like the band was precariously teetering on the edge of a cliff. He was going to try not to let any of that get in his way today, though. He’d made it to Saturday and Willie was only a few streets away, and he didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day - it was going to be good.

Finally he heard the next stop announced for where he needed to get off and he pulled the cord that told the driver to make a stop. Stepping onto the sidewalk, his heart bounced around in its chamber like the Tazmanian devil from Looney Tunes. He was glad that Willie lived in the basement of the apartment building he occupied because it would’ve been the worst if Alex forgot which room he was in and spent hours frantically knocking doors.

It was hard to tell if he was moving quickly or if his mind was just racing, but in either case, he eventually found himself at the door. For a second, he simply took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to get a visual of Willie immediately pouncing on him the moment the door opened out of his head. It wouldn’t exactly be unwelcome, but Alex was realizing how desperate he was to be with him and was amazed at how it affected his imagination.

Lifting a hand, he made sure he knocked loudly. Soon after, the door opened, and Alex was greeted with shining brown eyes, silky, gorgeous brown hair styled into two braids, and a smile he could make home in. Willie.

“Hey, come on in!” Willie was saying, standing to the side and gesturing for him to enter. Crossing the threshold, Alex gazed at the humble space, taking in the details with heightened interest. “This is mi casa!” He began showing Alex around. “We’ve got the main living space, very cozy. The kitchen to your left, but no dining room so it’s all criss-cross applesauce on the floor - makes it extra chill. Bathroom through the back. The sink and shower handles will sometimes shock you, so don’t mind all the electrical tape.”

It was surprisingly accommodating for a dingy basement, and Willie had already made little additions that spoke volumes about him without words. A king size mattress sat in the corner of the ‘main living space’ on the floor with a small bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf only had a handful of cassette tapes and a Walkman lying on top, with a few sketchbooks on the middle shelf. Next to that, the dresser had a small collection of vintage soda bottles and a camera sitting on its surface. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers covered the ceiling above the bed. Even a couple cat toys could be spotted on the floor. Immediately, Alex approached the area where Willie’s desk sat surrounded by sketches hung on the wall.

“So these are your drawings?” he asked, although the answer was obvious. They were so good. Willie followed him over, the squinty smile still in his eyes.

“Yeah. Some are new. Most of them are attempts to recover what Caleb tore up.”

Alex looked at Willie apologetically, even though the loss of Willie’s previous work wasn’t his fault. Without warning, a pressure on his leg and the sound of loud purring announced Sheldon’s presence. The cat looked up at him and blinked slowly, already begging for attention. Heart melting, Alex bent down to pet him.

“Hey, Sheldon,” he said. “I forgot how cute you were!” He smiled as Sheldon rubbed his head against his hand with more affection that he’d likely seen from any other creature on the planet. Well...maybe there was one other that matched it. Alex had heard about how pets could take on the temperament of their owners, and suspected this was a clear example. “He’s gotten so big since I last saw him.”

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be almost two years old, if Escobar guessed his age right.”

Standing again as Sheldon pattered off, Alex returned his attention to the wall of art, looking at the pieces more closely.

“So which one is your dad?” he mused.

Willie untacked one of them and held it out for Alex to examine. “This one.”

Holding the edges carefully, Alex gazed in amazement at the detail Willie had caught. The edges were certainly less defined, but the scene inside the truck was so easy to visualize that Alex could almost feel the leather of the seats and the windchill from the window. He wasn’t sure what began burning in his chest as he peered down at the image, but it was profound and complex.

“I’ve thought about seeing if I could find him, but I think with my memory it’s kind of impossible,” Willie told him.

“He looks so happy here. I don’t get why you would end up as a foster kid.”

“Yeah, I wondered that too. Maybe he didn’t have a choice?”

Alex looked at Willie’s face, and he could tell half of him was lost in a world of what-ifs and other questions. He was always trying to seem so easy-going, and to an extent he truly was, but he couldn’t hide the constant sense of upheaval that rested on his shoulders. At least, Alex was picking up on it more, now that he knew the things he did. He may have been biased, but he couldn’t imagine anyone not fighting their hardest to keep Willie.

Suddenly his gaze was drawn to the unfinished work on the desk, and recognized it as a portrait of himself.

“Wow.” The word fell out of his mouth.

“Oh,” Willie started with a hint of shyness. “Obviously that one isn’t done, so…” He reached to put it away.

“You got that far off of memory, though,” Alex said. “I’m impressed. And you make me look good.” He offered an encouraging smile. “Maybe some time today I could be a model for you?”

Willie cocked his eyebrow, surprise and playfulness making an adorable combination on his face. It made Alex’s smile grow wider.

“Well, we’ve got a whole day ahead,” Willie said. “Your wish is my command.”

“Okay,” Alex said, leaning onto his back foot casually, one side of his lip curling with intrigue. “Well, I wanna see where you go around here. You seem to have a knack for finding the best spots. We can play it by ear.”

“What’s that one song with the one phrase?” Willie asked. “‘Any way the wind blows?’” He sang shyly, clearly playing down what Alex could tell was a nice voice.

“Bohemian Rhapsody,” Alex smiled. Willie’s job at the record store was at least giving him a good taste in music. “Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about the classics once you hang out with me enough.”

An emotion flashed in Willie’s eyes and after a moment Alex realized what those words were actually saying. He held his gaze, hoping he could communicate his intentions clearly, unlike the last time they’d seen each other. Willie swallowed, and his expression remained excited as he loaded his backpack and led them out the door, board in  hand. Alex followed him, deciding not to question which direction they were going.

First, they made a stop to buy a bunch of apples. In classic Willie fashion, he went to a bodega, and this time he communicated with the cashier in rough Spanish. Alex knew he was showing off, and smirked at the notion that Willie enjoyed impressing him.

“So what do we need these for?” Alex wondered as they left the bodega. “Besides a ton of apples for lunch.”

Willie’s secretive smile made Alex raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a surprise.”

A little while later, they stood before the most unlikely place in all of Los Angeles: a horse barn. Staring at the building as if it loomed fifty feet above him, hands in his pockets, Alex gulped and a lump of dread landed in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh no,” he muttered apprehensively.

“Oh yeah,” Willie said, turning to him with a thrilled grin on his face.

Alex wasn’t exactly afraid of horses...he just had no idea what to do around them and therefore was not sure what to expect from them. Also, he would’ve worn different pants if he’d known this was on the agenda.

“I promise, they’ve got some really chill horses,” Willie tried to ease his nerves. “I’ve gone on this trail enough times. Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about riding once you hang out with me enough.” He winked as he threw back Alex’s line with a sly smile.

Unable to argue, Alex shook his head and used the hand in his pocket to gesture forward, signaling to Willie he was up to the challenge. He watched him practically skip inside and he had to jog to keep up after him. They signed in and then were led to two stalls.

Willie immediately gravitated toward a tall golden-colored mustang stallion with a dark mane, apparently both already familiar and happy to see each other. Alex watched him gently greet and essentially coo at it while comfortably stroking its nose and then feeding it an apple. He longed to have that sort of talent with other creatures, and simultaneously realized that he yearned to receive that same tenderness.

Once the horses were tacked up and one of the instructors had given Alex some brief pointers on how to ride, he found himself following Willie on a trail while mounted on a painted mare. The only philosophy he could adopt out here was to be gentle and not get lost.

“Not so bad, your majesty,” Willie called over to him.

An extremely nervous laugh elicited from Alex’s throat involuntarily, only making Willie laugh in return. Alex rode a little closer so they were nearly side by side on the trail.

“I’ve been here once,” he said. “I think I was about twelve? My mom thought that it would make me change my mind about taking ballet classes. We rode for maybe fifteen minutes before I got so nervous we had to turn back around and go home. Never made it through the full trail.”

“Man, that sucks,” Willie commented. “I didn’t know you did ballet.”

“Yeah, that and a few other types of dance. I was forced to quit a little couple years ago. That’s about when we got serious as a band, so I just found something else to bother my parents with.”

He could see the gears click into place as Willie came to a few conclusions about his parents and gave an emphatic nod.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance. That was the one thing Caleb had promised to teach me. He’s the worst, but he definitely knows how to dance.”

Suddenly, Alex remembered watching Caleb’s movements when he’d served him and the boys at the diner. Of course he could dance; everything had been fluid and smooth. All he could say to that thought was “huh,” at first. Then after a few moments: “I’ll have to teach you one of these days then.”

Willie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, happy at the prospect.

“Yeah, okay! Add that to our to-do list.”

Alex chuckled. They had a to-do list now. He bit his lip as he continued following Willie along the trail. It was a gorgeous day and in this area the sky was so clear compared to further inside the city. Greatly contrasting his experience from years ago, Alex felt himself become much more at ease and felt confident enough to take greater control of his horse. Willie pulled out his camera and snapped a few scenic photos every once in a while.

Eventually, they stopped at an outlook and Alex had to take in an awed breath. The view was clear for miles all around them. Green hills spanned the landscape in every direction with patches of city speckled in between. Even the ocean line was visible from there. How did Willie know how to find these?

“Hey, Alex!” Willie called, lifting his camera. “Say cheese!”

Turning to face him, Alex flashed a genuine smile as Willie captured him atop his horse against the scenery. He was usually pretty camera shy, but this time he really didn’t mind. Keeping memories like this actually felt important to him, unlike the many times he’d been forced to pose with his family at functions he’d also been made to attend. Those occasions had always felt so insincere - less about enjoying the memory and more about trying to prove their status as the polished, functional family everyone aspired to.

He saw Willie dismount for a moment and stretch his legs. Gripping the reins and looking around in uncertainty, Alex realized he’d gotten on before ensuring he could properly get off. Thankfully, Willie noticed and came up to him, hands raised.

“Okay, so just...carefully lift your foot out of the stirrup and swing your leg over toward me,” he instructed. Sucking in a breath hesitantly, Alex did as he said. “Alright, then...here.” Willie offered a hand for Alex to grab so he could slide off with ease. Landing on the ground, he leaned into Willie to gain his balance, and felt a congratulatory pat on his back. It took more restraint than Alex anticipated to not simply wrap his arms around him and sit like that for an indefinite amount of time. They had all day ahead of them; he didn’t need the sudden fear of losing him to derail things out of nowhere.

“Sorry if I look like a wimp about all this,” he said, letting go of his hand.

“Nah, don’t sweat it,” Willie assured him, shaking his head. “This is...this is new.”

His eyes seemed to take Alex in from head to toe and Alex could’ve sworn the charge in the air between them would buzz if they got closer, spark if they made contact. It was almost like that moment in front of Willie’s door the week before. For a few seconds they remained locked in that trance before Willie took hold of the horse’s reins and handed them to Alex.

“Technically this trail could take hours, but I’m guessing this isn’t all you’re interested in today,” he said. “What do you say we stretch our legs a bit and then ride back?”

Looking from the reins in his hand back to Willie, Alex nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Opening his backpack, Willie handed him an apple and then bit down into one of his own. Taking a bite, it was one of the most refreshing apples Alex ever eaten. They walked the horses a little ways and tried to get good pictures of the different views around them. Alex asked to try his hand with the camera and get a few good shots of Willie. He didn’t consider himself a photographer, but he doubted when the photos got developed that they would turn out badly. The way Willie smiled made him seem like he was made of sunlight from the inside out.

As they rode back to the barn, Alex kept replaying those moments where he’d refrained from making a move over in his head. This had been strike two. If he continued on like this, he was going to hate himself for the rest of eternity, he was pretty sure. Was it some weird kind of side effect of the whole ‘Willie come back to life’ thing? Watching him affectionately say goodbye to his horse once they were ready to leave, Alex looked at his own horse and raised a tentative hand up to her nose.

The mare gazed back, patience gleaming in her eyes. He finally set his hand down on her nose and gently rubbed it up and down, smiling a little to himself. This wasn’t so bad. He could do this - it was just a matter of getting through all the barriers he made for himself in his head. Moving his hands from the horse’s nose, he stroked along her neck, and caught Willie smiling at him from the corner of his eye.

“You wanna try feeding her an apple?” he asked.

Thinking for a few seconds, Alex nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling one out of his backpack, Willie placed it in Alex’s palm.

“Alright, so hold it out in front of you like this…” He positioned Alex to offer the apple. “And keep your palm flat.”

Alex uncurled his fingers and after sniffing at it a little the mare ate it out of his hand. He could ignore the sensation of her mouth touching him because Willie still had his arm around his shoulder to hold him steady. They looked at each other, and Alex wished he could get a proper shot at Willie’s face at that angle with the camera.

“Looks like you’re gonna get the hang of this,” Willie commended.

Alex looked back up at the horse, a little bit of pride swelling in his chest. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Later, they went to the beach at Alex’s suggestion. He was perched on the surface of a picnic table, posed as if he were looking off into the distance. Willie sketched with great concentration, having taken his hair out of his braids so he could run his hand through it. The late afternoon sun brought out all the best color contrasts in their surroundings - one of the things Alex loved about coming to the beach at this time of day.

“So I have a question,” Alex started, trying not to move too much. His tendency to talk with his hands kept getting him in trouble.

“Shoot,” Willie prompted him, not looking up.

“Did Caleb let you go to school or anything? Or did he provide any sort of education at all?”

Squinting, Willie looked thoughtful for a moment.

“So, after the accident, he told me that I’d had to be taken out of school,” he began, continuing to sketch. “Which makes sense, I guess, if I forgot everything. I remember some basic things, like math wasn’t hard to pick up again. Once I was recovered enough to go places, he just let me go to the public library and find whatever I wanted to read. But he always insisted on not having reminders of who I was before and said it was supposed to be helping me ‘become my own person’. He got rid of things like my school yearbooks and old journals and things. I didn’t think anything of it at first because he’d just called it useless clutter and I believed him. As soon as he decided I was fit enough to work in the diner and help out at the hotel, he told me to forget about school. Anything else I picked up was from watching TV, or listening to the radio, or something. Sometimes I’ll just remember I know something after hearing about it and it’s like it was just always there.”

Listening intently, Alex marveled at the whole thing. The fact that Caleb was not only negligent, but actively discouraging Willie from knowing anything, made him wish he could take down the man’s whole career. However, he figured Willie probably had a lot of his intelligence still untapped. If he’d been able to get away from Caleb and somehow create a life for himself in the span of a few months, Alex wondered what else he was capable of.

“What’s something you remember?” he wondered.

“I guess I used to be really obsessed with space. Just planets and stars and all that. I can spout off facts about Jupiter’s moons and stuff like that. Did you know that the moon Europa has a saltwater ocean under a layer of ice?”

Alex shook his head. “No, I didn’t. That sounds really cool though.” He thought of the stickers on Willie’s ceiling and smirked a little before reassuming his pose.

“I sort of wish I could remember being in school,” Willie was saying. “Everyone else seems to just share all of those memories and understand each other that way.”

Alex saw his brow furrow, and could tell he felt left out. He pondered on his own experience growing up in public school. There was almost no other way he would’ve met Luke, Bobby and Reggie if they hadn’t all attended the same schools. While he could easily critique and complain about it to no end, he knew it was a privilege.

“School is definitely hard,” he told Willie. “But I did get my friends out of it, and I guess that makes up for it. If it’s any consolation, you could just complain about Caleb like he was your horrible English teacher who thought he knew more about the subject of your essay, but you cited all of your sources and they proved him completely wrong.”

Willie laughed. “Why? Did that happen to you?”

Alex bobbed his head from side to side and feigned looking thoughtful . “Maybe.”

“I kind of like reducing him to a loser English teacher. He just sounds petty and sad.”

“That’s high school,” Alex confirmed.

Leaning back from his work for a minute to take it all in, Willie brushed a hand through his hair.

“Here, you wanna take a look at it?” he said. Alex hopped off the table and went to stand over Willie’s shoulder at the drawing and was immediately rendered speechless. The detail was impeccable, but Alex was more impressed by the feeling he got looking at it. Willie had managed to make him appear...handsome, and pensive, and fascinating, like anyone else could look at him and create a million unique ideas of who he was. However, it wasn’t anyone else looking at him, it was Willie, and what he’d captured felt like the truth. Alex couldn’t really explain what that meant, only that it was an honest representation.

“Okay, I know I said the one back at your place made me look good, but this is...this is unreal.”

He could see Willie trying to be modest, but the corners of his lips couldn’t stay down. Funny enough, he appeared even more unable to find words, and simply beamed as he looked back and forth between his sketch and Alex’s face.

A sudden impulse came over Alex, and he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on top of Willie’s skateboard and backpack. Willie sat looking flustered for a moment.

“Wanna swim?” Alex nodded toward the waves, bidding Willie to follow. He didn’t wait for him to catch up as he immediately began running into the waves up to his knees. Alex knew his pants would be even more ruined the second he hit the salty water, but he didn’t care. Now the sun was beginning to set and the chill of the waves was refreshing, and he couldn’t express what he felt just then in any other way.

Willie tackled him from behind, climbing onto his back and nearly knocking him over into the shallow tide. Clambering back to his feet, Alex splashed water at him. They began a playful water fight back and forth, until they were both drenched. Eventually, Alex tried to catch hold of both Willie’s hands in an attempt to prevent being splashed anymore. He had the advantage of longer arms, but before he could get a tight hold of the second arm Willie’s leg swept under his and they both fell just as a large wave washed over them.

As the water pulled back, they sat in the sand in a tangle, laughing. All Alex could think of was how pretty Willie was in this light, hair swept back off his face with tendrils resting over his shoulders, sun gleaming in his eyes and constantly shining from the inside out. The laughter died between them and he caught a look in Willie’s eye that made him wonder if he appeared to him to be just as perfect in that moment.

This time his mind and body worked in sync as he lifted a hand and gently pulled Willie into a short, tender kiss. All the self-flagellation from earlier was washed away in one pure moment, and exhilaration moved into its place. It felt soft and sweet, just the way he expected it should. Just as quickly as he’d let go, Willie went in for another one, a little longer and a little deeper. One hand remained caressing his cheek while the other wrapped around his upper back. Alex couldn’t help smiling into another kiss; he was too happy to care about anything else. Hardly a week ago, this had been impossible.

As they let go, their hands came together and they looked into each other's eyes, both releasing a relieved chuckle. Willie looked at the rest of the beach behind them and Alex’s eyes followed, but at this hour there were too few people around and no one paying attention to them. Turning back to Alex, Willie sighed and shook his head with a smile.

“Wow,” was all he said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, I’d definitely do that again,” Alex smirked, until the joy in his chest converted it into a full grin.

A wave washed over them again and they both stood, shaking out their hair and trying to wipe off whatever sand they could. Heading back up the beach, Willie grabbed Alex’s hand so they could make their way up together. The sun was nearly set but Alex was sure it had just gone into his chest, bursting with excitement. Once they reached the picnic table, they gathered their things and Willie offered to carry Alex’s shirt inside his backpack on the way home. Thank goodness there were a few patches of grass so Alex could try to get a little more sand off his feet before putting his shoes back on.

“So how long have you been sitting on that?” Willie teased as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and they left the beach.

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, knowing he was being called out.

“No, really!” Willie bumped his side jokingly. “I want to know!”

Tilting his head back to try to remember, it didn’t take Alex long to give him the answer.

“Since day one,” he told him.

Surprise swept over Willie’s face as he looked at Alex.

“Seriously?” he asked.

Alex nodded.

“Me too.”

It was Alex’s turn to look surprised. Without saying another word, he took Willie’s hand in his and then kissed it before continuing back toward his place. The whole way they talked about all the different things they needed to do together in the future. Riding on more horse trails, dancing lessons, skating lessons, art modeling sessions, going to band practices and gigs, visiting the record store while Willie wasn’t working, etc. They both agreed that the entire day technically counted as a date, and all further plans would as well. Alex was reminded once again that he didn’t have a notebook to write things down in, and vowed to have one for the next time he saw Willie. Once they reached Willie’s door, they had already put their shirts back on and it was completely dark outside.

“Are you free any time next week?” Willie asked, still holding onto Alex’s hand.

“I wish I could say yes, but probably not. And as much as I’d love to give you my number, it’s really not the best idea.”

“Well, I could give you mine,” Willie said.

Alex shot him a confused look. Holding up a finger, Willie dug into his backpack until he found his sketchbook and tore off the corner of a page, quickly scribbling one down and handing it to Alex.

“It’s actually the one for work,” he said. “But if it’s what we can do for now, I’ll do it. Kyle won’t care.”

Looking at it for a minute and then stashing it in his now-dry pocket, Alex took hold of Willie’s chin and went to kiss him again. It was really hard to stop, but they soon broke apart.

“I gotta go,” Alex murmured.

Willie only nodded, squeezing his hand before letting go and slipping his own into his pocket.

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Once again heading up the short set of stairs to the sidewalk, Alex rubbed his lips together, relishing in the taste of what he and Willie had just done. He couldn’t imagine anything sweeter.