#Who is stupid is Adam who still tries the whole 'i made them better!' argument on Jack

[agendercryptidlev]

Torchwood gets massive props from me for using the "character gets tricked into thinking they did something terrible and confesses it to their loved one" trope with the loved one instead of freaking out just going "no you fucking didn't. We're going to figure out what's actually going on here"

[holylottie]

aching bones, aching teeth [06]

masterlist [socials and TW's]

PAIRING — Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

CHAPTER SINOPSIS — Lottie always gets more than she can have.

NOTE — english is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. Please read the tw's first! Thank you for reading :)

1996

You stood still at the lake. Shauna tried to take you back to the cabin but to no avail, you couldn't bring yourself to move, to think.

You cursed god, got mad at the divine and, consequently, got mad at Lottie. How could she allow such a thing, how could she not know?

Your clothes were wet as you kept yourself sitting on the holy lake — as holy as a sin could be —  crying, sobbing loudly. You couldn't scream, your sobs weren't filled with sounds, but they were filled with a new-found hurt: you just entered a new life, a life without Laura, without her sweet words and thoughtful prayers. You didn't hear Natalie arriving, but you felt her steady hands on your shoulders, she pulled you up, holding you with a tight grip while silent.

You didn't bother to speak. 

She helped you change your soaked clothes and she made you lay down on the floor, next to an almost sleep Lottie. You two stared at each other, sharing a pain no one else in the cabin could understand. 

Lottie reaches out for your hand — you give it to her —, holding your lamb plushie on the other. 

Sleep comes slowly, a calm slumber.

But when you wake up, you are terrified. 

However, you embrace the tears and make a friendship with the fear, you did not mind the nightmare. There, Laura was alive. 

— All okay, Tiq? — Shauna stared at you, from across the room, giving you a gentle tiny smile.

You knew she only meant to be nice, but to someone even consider the possibility of you answering yes, it was devastating, horrifying. Nothing would ever be okay.

You nod, anyway, getting up and putting your mattress on top of Charlotte.

It’s way later than when you normally wake up, but you suppose the girls gave you all a break since the last events. Your stomach is aching for food, and you have to hold onto the walls to not fall when you start to walk.

Shauna and you went outside, and she looked at the leaves you had bring to the girls, their taste was horrible, and there weren’t many of them, but it was better than sleeping on an empty stomach. 

— I don’t think I would ever say that, but I do miss cutting meat. 

You giggle at Shauna’s remark, your eyes drifting off to Jackie, sitting a few steps away from you two. Shauna’s eyes were on her too.

— Do you think this will end someday?

— Everything does eventually, Tiq. In a good or bad way… everything ends.

— You're harvesting then?!

Like a sinner, a nômade living on the consequences of Adam and Eve.

You hear Mari’s voice and your whole body gets on alert. You get up from your kneeling position, poorly trying to hide the little strawberry patch with your own legs.

She pulled you by the collar of your shirt, her face so close to yours that you could almost see the anger in her irises.

— it’s not for you. 

You simply say, filled with hate too, angry at her for finding out,angry at her for being angry at you.

— Oh, yeah for who’s it then For your teen crush, yn? 

Her voice is so bitter that your ears hurt. You hated arguments, you hated people arguing, especially at you.

— What makes Lottie more deserving of it than any of us? 

You stare at her, and then you laugh.

Silly stupid little Mari.

How could one’s own mind be so deeply wrong? How could one’s own mind compare themselves with something as big and holy as a god?

— When they grow, they will be mine and Akilah’s too.

As she said that, she left.

You felt the urge to step on all your work, to dig your fingers deep on the dirt and take all those seeds elsewhere. 

Of course you felt sad, everyone was thinking you all would die — and everyone was pretending to not care about the imminent death and only worry about the stupid ball. You weren’t mad because there was a ball, you were mad because everyone was suddenly losing hope. 

For you, the absence of hope was a death of the soul. Soon, the body would go too.

What was the point of life if you didn’t hope for things to get better? You wanted to cry, but who were you to deny an opportunity to dance with Lottie? To deny an opportunity to dance at all?

If there was one thing Lottie liked, it was watching the moon. She would sit by the window and concentrate so hard that she could almost hear it saying goodnight.

She didn't hear you arrive, you didn't announce yourself, but a snap of your mouth did. 

You smiled ungraciously and waved softly at her. Your furred ears costume had little ribbons on it, Lottie saw it as a sign: you were a gift from the wild to her.

— Why does your mom call you bambi? — you approached, leaning on the tree next to the girl and looking in the same direction as her.

— It's because I jump around when I'm excited. — Lottie smiled, looking at you; You were different, lighter. Maybe it was the mood of the upcoming party, nobody felt pressured to be someone different in the dark lights and upcoming death.

— What should I call you then? My deer? — you laughed, playing on the pun of dear and deer.

Lottie Matthews always knew what to say, making cheeky comments and being the outgoing type, but you took all her words, she could never finish a sentence, let alone a seductive one. 

Ignoring the way her heart was skipping a beat at being called "mine", she followed what was comfortable: concentrating on the joke. 

She liked hearing it. She didn't know if it was her instinct as an only child who was born without having to share, but the idea of being the only one to whom you felt comfortable enough to open up so much made her chest fill with pride. 

She tried to push aside her selfish thoughts of keeping what you said to herself.

— Have you ever read Sarah Ruhl? In one of her short stories, she tells about a great American surgeon called Halsted. He was married to a nurse whom he loved very much. One day Halsted noticed that his wife's hands were red when she came back from surgery. — you were so enthusiastic, explaining everything with such joy, how could she remember and know so many general and random facts? How could Lottie pay attention to her costume when all she could do was stare at your lips? — And then he invented rubber gloves. For her. Sarah said it was one of medicine's great love stories, talking about how the difference is made out of love.

Lottie stared at her, smiling and vaguely remembering reading something about the construction of love. She knew that her feelings for you were big enough to make her invent something as good as gloves. Even if at the moment it was something as small as a party.

— Do you think everyone is going to have a love story this good? Or does the universe choose a few lucky people at random, Lotts? — you thought out loud, then laughed mockingly and denied it, asking her to let it go. Lottie smiled, handing you a box.

You had to hold back tears when you opened it and saw a tiara made out of leaves and flowers. You smiled happily.

You couldn't form words, so you just hugged her tightly.

— Your antlers are a bit too big — you laughed.

And Lottie felt the inspiration of a scientist.

2021

You loved gardening. 

Everything you did in the mud, came back in some way. All your efforts would eventually lead to something, it didn’t had any subjectivity on it, it was simple and clear: plant it, take care of it and receive it. 

You had a notebook to note every single one of your seeds and gardening cares, some tips and even pictures of your most beloved ones. However, your favorite of it all was, without a doubt, your strawberry patch.

It was so incredibly taken care of, strawberries as red as blood, leaves as green as hope. You would sit there, putting water, take off bugs with delicate fingers and eat a fruit straight from the patch.

— I never liked strawberries too much, most of them don’t taste like anything.

Laura said, playing with one of the ladybugs.

Or, rather, Laura’s ghost said. Today, she felt adventurous, following you outside of your house. Her clothes dripped water, and her neck was burned by flames. It was an unusual sight — that was already usual to you.

— You can’t know they all taste like that if you don’t eat all of them. 

— That’s stupid — she giggles, shaking her head — you don’t need to know everything to hate it.

You smiled, taking off your gloves and smiling at her.

— I was never able to see the crickets; I used to get so deeply upset about it… — You confessed, your face holding a nostalgic smile; It was a strange action in Laura’s point of view: you were so young, what could you have in the past to be longed for? — Until one day a cricket got into my room and I ran away… I’m afraid that once a person truly sees something, she will wish to go back and never see anything at all. like you, with a strawberry.

You shake your head, it was funny, confess sins to a ghost. 

There was a whole life in those woods, hungry and harvest, misery and tragedy and hope, and there was birth and death.

And it's hard because you can't kill the person you were in that lifetime, but you also can't still be her. So there's just this ghost of yourself lurking over your shoulder, despising your every move, watching you sin.

— And guess what, Laura: tomorrow when I wake up, I'll have a wonderful day, and when I put my head on my pillow to sleep, I'll think again: how much happier I would've been if I had been doing this at seventeen.

When on the stage, you felt a flower fall on your feet, you got down and picked it up, recognizing it as a white lily. 

You didn’t see her right away, but you felt it.

Your soul was being pulled toward hers and then your eyes went to find her, looking non-stop for someone who would make your breath stop.

Twenty five years later, and you would still recognize her blind. You would still acknowledge her presence even if all your senses were compromised, for you would only be you if there was the flame of your love for lottie inside your body.

You just hoped that the you’s of other universe’s had a more kind life to love her.

1996

The doomsday ball

You’ve never felt happier as you did when Lottie asked you to go as her date to the ball. Finally, the rainbow before the thunderstorm.

Your mother said that there were five hells — and that one of them was destined only for people like you, but you didn't care about that anymore. If hell were as warm as Charlotte's embrace, you would walk through the gates with a smile on her face.

You had always had many doubts about the Bible.

You read the verses, imagining yourself in the places of angels and heroes — even though the position of sinners, and those who sought mercy, always seemed more real to you (as if you had been born with your hands in prayer and your knees already scraped).

You looked at the saints, seeing them deprive themselves of their desires to finally find the way to God. You thought about what you wanted — Charlotte — and saw no difference between your desire and your destiny.

You smile, seeing everyone so pretty and happy, like things were supposed to be since the beginning. You take a deep breath, going to take a sip of your drink as you watch Van e Tai give a kiss.

A whole new world seems to show up in front of you.

A world of possibilities and wishes, of love and care.

A world where there were no sins, only passion.

— C'mon, dance with me! — Lottie’s arms were moving like tentacles, like a snake calling you to sin. 

Eager to please, you bit the apple. Your movements were too graceful for a party, you didn't know how to move without rules to follow, without an established pattern to be guided to.

One of Lottie's hands went to your left cheek, caressing it slightly while the other was holding a makeshift cigarette Natalie had made — you wondered what would burn more: the flame she was smoking or her touch. 

— You're just such a pretty little lamb, aren't you? 

Lottie’s tone was condescending, but she had a playful, even flirtatious smile for you — the look of a predator who knows how to tear every piece of his prey apart.

Lottie leans closer, her nose almost touching her lover's one. You could feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. Lottie pulls your body to her.

— I just can't hide how I feel... I want you so much. I've never wanted someone as much as you, darling... — she presses her lips together as she goes in to whisper something in your ear — Your heart is so sweet...

Lottie gets even closer, her voice barely audible: 

— I want to taste it.

And the closer she gets, the far away she seems. You don't know why, but the booze might have made your thoughts and vision unclear. 

You smile, giggling happily, your hips moving to the music playing inside your head.

Lottie’s mouth gets close, close to your chest and, having access to your skin by the cut of your dress, she licks your chest. Gently, at first, then eagerly, hungrily. Her mouth leaves hicks on your skin, you feel the blood being pulled and released and then you feel the first bite. Her teeth penetrate your skin. 

You cry out, but it's a muffed one, not out of pain, but out of relief. You get out of breath, your shaking hands going to her hair, caressing it.

While you felt your meat being taken away from you, while Lottie took what always had belonged to her, your mind was feverishing with thoughts, screaming confessions:  

I cannot confess anymore, it is not enough, I need to devour my sins, to let them perish from where they came from. 

Biting my tongue, I wish to bite my hand.

I want the marks, I need the flaws and claws and teeth teeth teeth

Lottie takes a step away, her eyes watery from the pleasure she had felt, her fingertips aching to touch you, her teeth aching for more. 

Her mouth was completely bloody, with your red ink falling down her chin. 

— You are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. 

You felt the urge to kiss Travis too, only to be able to feel Lottie's lips, but then Shauna kissed him and suddenly the thought made you sick. 

Your head was dizzy, you missed Laura. 

You sit out the ground of the cabin, not able to recognize faces or things, you can hear voices but none of them is clear. So you stay still, trying to understand why your vision was so blurred.

When your eyes truly open, you are alone. A deep fear settles onto your chest, and you start to breathe heavily, your lips quivering and bloody tears rolling down your face. You put your tongue out, tasting their salt flavor.

You did not pray that night, but you had a serious personal conversation with Jesus. You hoped he had good days, good enough to show him that life isn't just about dying for other people's sins.

[poguesrforlife]

Longing for You | JJ Maybank

Okay guys, here goes! First fic for outer banks with none other than my future husband JJ Maybank. God, look at him what a cutie!!!! <3

Requested: Nope

Trigger warning: Little bit smutty (mentions), foreshadowing of abuse but other than that a whole lot of good vibes only

Word count: >2k (went a bit over the top with that one oops)

Everybody in the pogues seems to be bood up except for JJ and Y/N which have been crushing on each other for ages but are too afraid to take the next step. Maybe some healthy competition will do the trick...

Waves crashing on the shore, warm sand under your feet and the summer sun shining while you sipped on a can of beer. You decided life could definitely be worse. It was just another summer day for you and your friends on the outer banks.

Kiara had worked on a killer mixtape the past weeks and you were currently enjoying her musical genius while relaxing on the beach.

John B was dancing with Sarah, the newest addition to your group, to some song from the Neighbourhood and you had to admit they were disgustingly cute together. The others were quite skeptical at first towards the kook princess, mostly because of Kiaras attitude towards her. 

Back when Sarah and Kiara had broken things off you were the one to catch Kie and she introduced you to the other guys, which were quite happy to not only have Kiara back but also a new addition. Which honestly quite surprised you since you belonged partly to the kooks as well just like Kiara. 

But you had to admit it, Sarah was the sweetest girl you’ve ever met besides Kie. And all in all your squad was more in synch with her. John B had Sarah and Kie and Pope had that weird thing, nobody talked about, going on and then there was JJ.

You had a crush on JJ since the first time you laid eyes on him. How could you not with his gorgeous blue eyes, blonde surfer hair and that charming humour of his.

But things with JJ would never happen, you knew each other too well. A little flirting here and there was to be expected when all the friends in your group had the hots for each other.

You wondered whatever happened to the no pogue on pogue macking rule. 

“Who wants a hit?” JJ asked and pulled you out of your train of thoughts by offering his joint to the rest of the group.

Kie happily accepted and sighed with the first drag before handing it to you.

“I’m good thanks,” You declined and showed the beer can you were currently sipping on.

“Oh c’mon sweetheart a little blunt never hurt nobody,” JJ laughed and tried to encourage you. Pope just rolled his eyes at his remark.

“If I’m drinking it does though. Or need I remind you of last weekend when you were nearly passed out because you mixed it up and I had to drag your ass home?” You raised an eyebrow at JJ, recalling the events of the weekend before and watched him turn a deep red.

“Shots fired, bro!” John B. laughed as he took the joint from Kie’s hand and took a drag himself.

“Actually yes please do remind him because I don’t think he can remember a thing.” Pope grinned at his friend who got visibly more embarrassed.

And god you were glad JJ couldn’t remember a thing. Because the stuff he said to you that night weren’t things you wanted to get into. Sure, Kie had always sad that JJ had a thing for you but he never made a move. Only ever small flirtations or stupid things when he was drunk or high or both. And that wasn’t enough to risk your friendship.

“Oh it’s fine J Bae, happens to the best of us,” You winked at him and felt quite smug using your private nickname for him. 

His cheeks were still a bit rosy but you saw a smile sneak on his lips when he looked at you.

“But not to Y/N apparently,” Sarah commented and saluted you with her own beer as soon as she nestled in between John B’s legs.

“Well not everybody can hold their liquor like Y/N,” Kie agreed and gave you wink. She knew well enough of some evenings where the both of you were too drunk to even walk a straight line.

“Oh c’mon, I can definitely drink more than Y/N!” JJ argued and got up, clearly in a mood to prove himself. 

“You wanna bet?” You argued, biting you lower lip and leaned back in the sand while looking up at him through your lashes.

You saw JJ’s Adam’s apple pop as he swallowed hard looking down at you.

Sweet Jesus, he looked heavenly with the sun behind him surrounding him like a halo. More than anything you wished the two of you were alone so you could have your way with him.

“Guys if you drink all of our beer I’m gonna strangle you,” John B warned with his dad authority.

“Oh kinky, I like it,” JJ joked and gave JB a coy look.

You couldn’t help thinking if that would really be something JJ would be into but the thought quickly vanished when you remembered the bruises you had seen more than once all over his body when he came back from a few days home.

He never told you anything about it, just joked around but you were pretty sure there was something hidden below the surface.

“Who says they have to drink all the beer? Let them just chug one and see who’s faster.” For that argument from Pope he quickly got a slap on the arm from Kiara.

“Ouch, why?” He complained but Kiara just shook her head while you giggled at Pope’s obliviousness because she didn’t want to support JJ getting drunk once again.

“Fine by me.” JJ grinned at you and stretched out his hand to help you up. 

You took his offer but as he pulled you up abruptly you stumbled a bit and were soon pressed against his chest.

His arm grabbed around your waist to steady you and shivers went down your spine at his touch. You looked up into his baby blue eyes and watched them wander all over your face before they landed on your lips.

“Not so steady after all, are we Y/L/N?” He whispered and his breath fanned your face, that’s how close you were. You also realised that your hands where on his naked chest.

Being this close to JJ did things to your body you couldn’t understand and it drove you absolutely crazy. You realised you were staring at him and the others were staring at the both of you so you tried to quickly regain your composure.

You moved one of your hands slowly up his body and around his neck as you pulled his head down.

“Eat shit, Maybank,” You whispered in his ear, grazing it lightly with your lips, before releasing him. 

JJ’s smug smile from before was replaced with a slightly shocked and kind of aroused expression on his face. That gave you enough satisfaction for now, to know that you could have that kind of effect on him.

You thought you heard a little ‘fuck’ escape him when he turned around to get you two beers.

You looked over at the others who had all witnessed the little scene. Kie and Sarah gave you excited glances and thumbs up whereas the boys looked utterly confused and bewildered.

“Well let’s do this!” John B got up and clapped his hands together before standing in front of the both of you.

“I’ll count to 3 and then you start chugging and whoever finishes first has to put the empty can above their head to demonstrate it’s really empty.” He explained.

“Yeah, yeah we’ve got it, it’s not our first time,” JJ said impatiently and popped his beer open.

“You’re going down,” You warned the boy in front of you.

“On you? Anytime sweetheart,” He retorted with his usual charm and the thought alone threw you off a bit. 

Concentrate Y/N, you’ve got this. 

“1…2…3!” JB counted down and you began chugging while the others cheered. The carbonic acid made it hard for you to swallow fast but as JJ said this wasn’t your first time.

In 5 seconds you had downed your can and put it over your head where only a single drop fell onto your hair. You screamed with joy as you saw JJ finish just behind you.

“YES!” You shouted and did a little happy dance as JJ looked at you perplexed.

“You know, I’m not even mad that was seriously hot,” JJ admitted in defeat and bit his lower lip while he stared at you. Once again you wished the others would just leave right this second.

“Well I guess we know who’s more badass,” Kie commented and grinned at you.

“Hey just because Y/N can chug beer faster than any frat boy on spring break does not mean she’s more badass then me,” JJ pouted and tried to regain some of his lost pride. 

The way he looked right now was just undermining his statement at the moment though since you couldn’t believe how cute he was. 

“It does though,” You disagreed and patted his cheek lovingly. A smile quickly made its way onto his lips as he looked at you. More than anything you just wanted to kiss him.

Maybe it was the alcohol that made you think like that but you knew better than that. You had wanted JJ for ages now.

“I want a rematch,” JJ suddenly said and turned you around, his arm around your waist and his chest pressed against your back.

You had no idea where this confidence in touching you suddenly came from but you liked it.

His right arm sneaked across your shoulder and he pointed towards a cluster of rocks a few feet in the ocean.

“Whoever reaches the rocks first wins the grand badass competition between you and I,” He announced and giggled at his pompous accent. 

“I don’t know how that proves that I’m more badass than you but sure,” You agreed, never one to back down from a challenge.

You were also pretty sure that JJ in his intoxicated state forgot that you were captain of the swim team and were usually working as a life-guard during summer. It was really not fair but there was no way you could let him win, he would never shut up about it.

“You guys, I swear just fuck already,” You heard John B murmur as he positioned himself between the two of you to give the start sign. 

You chose to ignore his comment as you got ready but not before slipping out of your clothes and leaving you in the tiny swimsuit you were currently wearing.

You saw JJ stare out of the corner of your eye and heard Sarah whistle behind you which made you laugh.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin my clothes or slow me down,” You explained nonchalantly and watched as Kiara and Pope were getting out cash probably betting on the winner.

Once again John B counted down to three and you started sprinting into the water and swimming for your life. JJ was close you knew that, he was a fast runner and had an advantage the first feet. 

But you couldn’t let yourself get distracted so you pushed yourself onto your very limits until you felt the rock under your hand and climbed on top of it.

JJ didn’t even come out of the water as he watched you, out of breath, as you victoriously waved to the others on the shore. From afar you could see that Pope gave Kiara his money with a sour gaze.

“Who’s more badass now, J Bae?” You laughed and sat down on the rocks in front of him and watched him swim in-between your legs.

“You distracted me, that wasn’t fair!” He argued and let his eyes wander over your body. 

You felt hot all over as his gaze swept over you and at the view of his head between your legs.

“Distracted hm? Why would that be?” You giggled and leaned forward to jokingly grant him a better view. He inhaled sharply and realised he was staring at your boobs a little too late before his eyes drifted to yours.

“At least help me out of the water,” He pleaded and struck out his hands. But as you reached out for him and were about to hoist him up, he pulled you into the water with him.

You screamed because of the surprise and clung to JJ’s shoulders to hold onto something. 

You don’t think the others on the beach even noticed as they went back to their own business and were distracted.

“You are insufferable!” You complained and got the wet hair out of your face as you clung to JJ with one arm and he had you secured with an arm around your waist.

You were definitely both sobered up by now, thanks to the cold water and exercise.

“Well, at least we know who’s stronger,” JJ commented and his second hand grabbed your waist as well. 

You were practically naked, chest to chest and only the ocean between the both of you. The ocean and the fear of rejection as you looked between his lips and his eyes.

“I’m still more badass than you,” You giggled and your hands moved up his shoulders to his neck like the most natural thing in the world.

“Would you just shut up?” JJ grinned and pulled you even closer to him if that was possible.

“Make me!” Was the last thing you whispered before JJ’s lips crashed onto yours.

He wasn’t timid and didn’t hesitate but kissed you passionately like he had waited to do so for weeks and was finally allowed to. And you kissed him back just as feverishly as your hands tucked on his blond hair and your legs locked around his waist. 

He bit your lower lip softly and a moan escaped your mouth which only made him grab you harder, one of his hands now on your butt.

Kissing JJ was igniting a wildfire, like the most dangerous and reckless thing in the world. But it also felt completely right, like the stars all had aligned just for that moment.

After a long time the both of you caught your breath and simply stared at each other. 

“That was…” You began but couldn’t find the right words. How do you even describe the best kiss of your life?

“It was,” JJ agreed without you having to say anything, he understood. “So… I wouldn’t mind this becoming a regular thing.”

You looked at him shocked, not because you didn’t want it but because there were so many other things to think about.

“I wouldn’t either,” you agreed “but let this be our little secret for now. I don’t want to give the others the satisfaction of being right all along.” You could practically picture Kie’s little happy dance by mentioning this to her.

“Agreed!” JJ laughed and pecked you on the lips one last time before swimming back to shore.

You grinned the rest of the whole day and ever so often sneaked flirty little glances and touches with JJ that drove your heart crazy.

[inkedtae]

kiss it better ⇾ pjm. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ boyfriend!jimin x reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ⇾ requested, post-argument, jealousy, smut, angst, and a sprinkle of fluff

𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾  after a heated argument rooted from jealousy and misunderstandings, you kiss it all better.

𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑔 ⇾ kiss it better ~ rihanna

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 5k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!jimin, possessive!jimin, needy!jimin, rough to soft sex, car sex, make-up sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (wrap’em up folks), sir kink, degradation, overstimulation, slight humiliation, multiple orgasms (m. and f.), creampie, dirty talk, slight choking, fingering, spanking, squirting, hair pulling, throat-fucking, oral (m. and f. receiving), lowkey filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i may have changed the entire plot last minute based on a dream i had. jimin is a wild, needy boi in this, like damn! please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission. if you have any requests, please send’em. enjoy!

Despite the hum of the engine, the car was silent. You stared out the passenger’s window, blinking back tears and trying to get lost in the rosey skies above. Quiet sniffles left you from time to time, earning you annoyed sighs from Jimin. You ignore them, sniffling louder just to further piss him off. 

“I don’t why the hell you’re crying,” he mumbled under his breath. “You embarrassed me tonight.”

There he went again, playing the victim like the role was made for him. He had been acting distant and cryptic the last few weeks, coming home late and leaving much earlier than you knew he needed to. Every time you pointed it out, he’d brush you off with the same excuse; work was busy. He never specified how busy or when he’d think he’d be able to make more time for you. You hadn’t even properly had dinner with him in a while. You were itching for his presence, his voice, his touch. You guys did it, sure, but it wasn’t the same. He always seemed lost in his own world and most of the time they were just quickies you two managed to squeeze into his “busy” schedule. 

So, when he mentioned a party at the office you insisted that he take you. You wanted to know what the hell all that busy work was. He tried to fight you on it, telling you that it’s last minute and he won’t be gone for long but you wouldn’t hear any of it. You told him that if he wouldn’t be gone for long then there was no reason for you not to tag along as well. He ran out of excuses after that.

“So, now you want to talk?” you bitterly asked. You didn’t bother to look at him, wiping away a straying tear. One glimpse at his pissed off face would just turn you on. Yes, Jimin was terrifying when he was mad, but he looked so fucking hot too. You couldn’t risk giving into him like that, not without making him earn it first anyway. From the way he sighed, you could tell that he was rolling his eyes. “And you say I'm the one with the attitude,” you muttered.

A dry chuckle left him as he replied, “that’s cause you are, (Y/N). You’re the biggest brat I know.”

“Are you kidding me?” you asked as you turned to face him. “You’re the one that has been pouty for weeks. You sulk in and out of every room and you’re the one that embarrassed yourself tonight. Had you just listened when I tried to-”

He cut you off, raising his voice as he corrected, “You were literally pressed up against him. Not only is he my friend, but I work with that guy! It’s embarrassing for my coworkers to think that my girlfriend is whoring herself out to the office.”

“Whoring myself out?” The hurt in your tone made him flinch, but he didn’t try to retract what he said. You gave him another chance to, remaining silent for a moment. “What the fuck is your problem, Jimin?” you hissed. “Why would you even say that? If you honestly think that little of me then why the hell are we still together?” You didn’t think, just said the first thing that came to mind. You wanted to hurt him like he hurt you, instantly regretting that thought when you saw the panic in his eyes. 

You knew he didn’t want to lose you and you didn’t want to lose him either. You loved him; he was probably the one guy you could ever really be in love with. He took care of you in ways no man had ever thought to do or even been able to. There have been times when you were clearly in the wrong, this time not being one of them, and he still was the one to apologize first just so he could seek your presence again. However, despite this, his tone and words could not be forgiven so easily. 

Jimin signalled to pull over, making you shift in your seat. Before you could ask what was going on, he turned off the car and looked at you. “Is that what you want?” he asked. He tried to hide it but you could hear the pain in his voice, fearing you might say yes. 

“Of course not,” you replied. He turned away from you, letting out a sigh of relief, and moved to start the car once more. You placed your hand over his arm, stopping him. “We’re not done. Where the fuck is all this coming from?”

He rubbed his nose, sniffling a bit before shrugging. You tilted your head to try to meet his gaze but he turned to look out his window. He was stubborn, but you were determined, adamant on finding out what the hell was wrong right here, right now. 

“You can’t go around flirting with guys I work with, (Y/N). It’s embarrassing for me to watch. You were basically pressing your body against his.” You opened you mouth to defend yourself, but he quickly continued, “And what the fuck was that whole work husband thing about with Hoseok?”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t talk to Hoseok tonight.” 

He raised a brow at you, causing you to widen your eyes as a means of urging him to give more context. “At the party Jungkook threw a few weeks ago,” he said. When your face still reflected confusion he added, “You know Jungkook, the guy you were dry humping in front of the entire office?” 

“I was not! He had something in his eye!” you shouted for what felt like the hundredth time, groaning in frustration when he rolled his eyes and brushed you off.

He nodded condescendingly, “sure, sure. Now, just answer the question.”

You huffed, clenching your jaw. He was finally talking to you about it and you didn’t want to ruin your chances of finding out what the fuck was going on with him so bit back any bitter words. You looked back at the dashboard, trying to remember the last party you two went to. It was weeks ago; you barely remembered who you talked to. You paused for a second, slowly turning back to face him as it all started to click. “Is that why you’ve been in such a mood? Because of two stupid words?” You didn’t mean to sound as patronizing as you did, but the entire situation was just ridiculous to you. You loved him. You told him that everyday. Why would he ever think to doubt that?

Jimin was not impressed with your words or tone. He scoffed at you, shaking his head as he went to start the car once more. You acted quickly, pulling the keys from the ignition and tossing them in the back seat. His face only further expressed his disappointment as he glared at you. 

“You’re not funny. Go get them now.” He was practically growling at you, and usually that would’ve been enough to have you reach back there and get the keys then beg him to fuck you. But, you didn’t want to give in. All this shit was going to end tonight. 

“No.”

Jimin opened the car door then slammed it shut, without another word or even glance towards you. You watched him walk away, thinking he was surely going to turn back and get the keys himself. But he didn’t. “He can’t seriously be thinking about walking home,” you muttered to yourself as he continued to stomp down the side of the road. 

With a sigh, you got out of the car and shut the door. Hearing the slam only made him walk fast. “Jimin!” You called, jogging after him. “Jimin, get back here! We’re not done!”

The crunch of gravel he left behind was all that met you. You huffed, stomping your foot. You probably looked like a child having a tantrum with the scowl on your lips, tears staining your face and hands fisted by your side. “Park Jimin, get your prideful ass back here now or I’ll… I’ll…” You trailed off not really sure what to say. There wasn’t much you could hold against him and not much you wanted to anyways. All you really wanted to do was get his attention. 

Jimin froze in his place before slowly turning around. There wasn’t too much distance between you, maybe only a few meters, but you still felt the withering heat of his glare. You pressed your thighs together as you watched him stalk towards you. 

“You’ll what?” he questioned. You slowly began to walk backwards as you noticed his pace wasn’t slowing down in the slightest as he further approached you. “What will you do? Flirt with more of my friends? I have Hoseok’s number if you wanna get together with your husband. You liked it when he called you his wife, didn’t you?”

“I used to work with him Jimin,” you explained as he continued to walk towards you, body already towering over yours. “That’s all it was. You don’t seriously think that I would want to marry him, do you?” The backs of your legs hit the front end of the car. You fell back against the hood as Jimin pressed himself against you. 

His hands gripped onto your waist, sitting you up a bit as he hovered his lips over yours. “He shouldn’t be calling you his regardless of that fact. And you shouldn’t be having anyone else press themselves against you but me.” He spoke in a whisper, spitting the words out like a threat. 

“No one even touched me tonight, Jim-” you started only to have him pull you up and turn you over on the hood of the car. “What-”

He smacked your ass twice, gripping the flesh when he was done. “Don’t lie, slut,” he warned. 

Whines left you as a felt a rush of arousal ruin your panties, making you press your legs together once more. “He had something in his eye, I swear. I was just helping him,” you explained, voice sounding as desperate as when you beg for him.

Jimin pulled you back up by a sudden grip on your hair, making you moan. Your now stinging ass was pressed against his growing erection. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know it was all an act to get a better look at your tits, baby,” he whispered into your ear. 

You shook your head quickly. “I promise I didn’t know, Jim- Ah!” you cried out as his hand came down on your ass again. You pushed it back against his crotch, attempting to soothe the sting as you rubbed it against him. 

His grip moved from your hair to your neck, lips kissing and licking around your ear before he whispered, “Is that how you’re supposed to address me, little brat?”

A moan left your lips as he gave into your needy actions and slowly rubbed your ass. “I’m sorry, sir,” you breathed, leaning back into his touch. 

He bit on your earlobe, growling his approval. You were about to close your eyes and get lost in his touch when you saw headlines coming up. Jimin must’ve seen them too, pulling you away from the front of the car and leading you to the side, away from any possible prying eyes. He pressed you roughly against the passenger door, both of you silently watching as the car passed by, his hand coming down on your ass just for his own amusement. You gasped a moan, relishing in the sting of the smack. Your panties were definitely sticking to your folds at this point, your wetness seeping through.

He moved his hand from your ass to your zipper, unzipping the strapless pink dress and pushing it down your frame. Braless, you remained pressed up against the car, breasts against the window. “If you’re gonna act like a slut, then I’m gonna treat you like one,” he seethed.

“Sir, please, I didn’t-” 

He laid another three hard smacks on your ass. Gasping cries tore through your throat as you gripped onto the edge of the car, tears pricking your eyes from the buzzing sting. He soothed the pain by rubbing his crotch against your cheeks. You felt his huge cock hardening from the action and it made you quiver, closing your eyes to rest your temple on the car. 

“Who the fuck gave you permission to speak, slut?” he questioned before roughly turning you around and lowering you to your knees. He positioned your fallen dress under you so the gravel wasn’t too hard on your skin. 

You stared up at him, blinking your tears away to get a better look at him. He wiped your tears away then tangled his hands in your hair. He massaged your scalp tenderly, smirking down at you, before his grip got harsh again. “Are you waiting for an invitation?” he spat, bringing your face closer to his clothed hard.

Your hands worked fast, a whine escaping you from the rough grip on your hair. You pouted up at him as you reached into his pants for his cock. You were determined to be bratty and show him that nothing was forgotten until you set your sights on his cock. No matter how many times you’ve seen it, had it shoved down your throat or buried in your pussy, the size never failed to shock you. All your anger towards him shifted to full blown lust as you admired his girth. Even in the peachy glow of the setting sun, he was just as intimidating. 

Jimin held onto his shaft, the sudden action reminding you what you were on your knees for. You opened your mouth wide to accept it, but he angled the tip of his cock around the corner of your lips, swiping away all the drool you didn’t realize you were dribbling. He applied the wetness around your lips, smearing his precum too. You moaned at the taste, holding his dark gaze. He was smirking all too sinfully, relishing in the neediness of your cock-hungry state. 

He then slipped his shaft in your mouth, throwing his head back at the warmth of your tongue. You sucked on him slowly while swirling your tongue around his tip. You wanted to savour his taste, the way his cock felt in your mouth. A wet smack left your lips as his cock did and he sighed, looking down at you again. His grip on your hair was hard, but he gently nudged you towards his cock again.

You pushed his hand off his dick and replaced it with your own, He took to leaning that hand on the car window, gazing down at you patiently. You slowly pumped him, shoving a good amount of him in your mouth and hollowing your cheeks. Gradually, you bobbed your head faster and faster, matching the speed of your mouth to that of your hand. 

Jimin was having trouble staying quiet. He previously didn’t want to give you any satisfaction of hearing him get off to your mouth, but the way you were looking up at him, eyes basically thanking him for the chance to suck him off, he couldn’t help himself. He groaned out a breathy moan, pouty lips parting in awe of your skills. His hips buckled up into your mouth, making you gag from the sudden action. You dropped your hand, clasping them behind your back, knowing the procedure he liked when he wanted to throat fuck you. 

He gripped your hair with both his hands now, using it as a means to bring your head up and down his cock. The unholy sounds of your gags and choked moans mixed with his growling groans filled the empty road. Your eyes burned with salty tears and jaw ached from the constant stain of accommodating his big size. You could feel his cock bulging out of your throat, squeezing its way through your walls.

“Ughmm,” Jimin growled, gazing down at you with that familiar look in his eye. “Pretty little mouth,” he hissed as his cock twitched. He unloaded without any further warning, holding your face flushed against his pelvic bone as he released his warm cum down your throat. “Ah, baby.”

His grip on your head softened and you pulled back. He was still cumming, but you needed to breathe. You couldn’t possibly swallow without getting a breath in first. His cum shot all over your neck and chest, leaking down to your nipples as you gasped for air. He was pumping himself dry, purposefully aiming his load all over your torso. 

“Who’s mess are you, baby?” he smirked, breathless and amused by the image before him. 

You licked around your lips, moaning at the taste of him, and replied, “Yours, sir.”

He nodded, brushing the pad of his thumb along the tip of his nose as he admired you for a moment longer. “Stand up, sweetheart,” he ordered sweetly. He was smiling now, cock still out and softening a bit. 

You unclasped your hands from your back and pushed yourself up. You couldn’t decide if he was ready to talk now or if he still wanted to punish you for whatever it was he thought you did with Jungkook and Hoseok. He looked up and down the road then grabbed your wrist and led you back to the hood of the car. You gave him a warning look to which he raised a brow. 

“What are-” 

He pushed you back against the hood, spreading your legs and tugging them up to rest on his shoulders. He slapped a hard smack on your clothed pussy lips. “Just when I thought I was going to reward you for such a good job,” he murmured, still admiring his work on your breasts. “Can you not follow a simple order, baby?” 

You knew he was giving into you, falling for every pouty look you gave him. He couldn’t resist you for too long, probably why he kept leaving when he was mad at you during the last few weeks. He had told you many times that there was a special place in his heart just dedicated to you. There wasn’t anything he could deny you for too long with that place carved out just for you. It didn’t stop him from trying though.

He pushed your drenched red panties aside, giggling to himself at how wet you were just from him throat-fucking you. Your back rested onto the hood of the car and you hissed from the cold. He immediately distracted you from it though, rubbing his thick lips between your folds. “Fuck!” you gasped, hands trying to get lost in his previously neatly styled hair. 

He smirked against your heat. His tongue darted out, lapping up all the arousal you collected around your entrance. He’d poke it in just to tease you, to hear you cry out his name. Your throat was already sore from his previous fun, but you couldn’t contain the pleasure. 

He pulled away, repositioning your legs so that he was holding the joint behind your knees. He used his new grip to spread your legs wide then dipped his head back down. He unleashed a whole new side of him as he ate your pussy with a degree of fervor you’ve never witnessed before. He shook his head, blubbering his lips against your clit, causing vibrations that made your body tremble with ecstasy. 

His real work came when he shoved his tongue in your pussy, swirling it around, digging for more of your sweetness. You moaned out his name over and over again, eyes rolling back and your hips moved with his movements. He darted his tongue in and out of your pussy, tongue fucking you ruthlessly while the tip of his nose rubbed against your clit. He was practically snorting your juices at this point, smearing your wetness all over his chin and jaw. 

You squealed, screaming out as you got closer and closer. “I-I’m cumming,” you told him, not even bothering to ask for permission since you knew you would not be able to hold your orgasm back for any longer. You released more than just your cum on his tongue, squirting uncontrollably all over his face. Jimin jolted back a bit, your juices drenching his dress shirt and pants, even spraying over his hard-again cock

He sat up, moving a hand from your leg to your pussy. His thumb worked fast circles around your clit, helping you ride out your high, while his other hand unbuttoned his shirt. He gazed down at your quivering frame and split legs, as you whimpered your pleasure out through broken fragments of words. You finally pushed his hand away, pulling your legs together and into your chest, shivering from the remains of your orgasm.

Jimin took off his shirt, exposing his toned abs and tattoos to the cold air. He stared at you with that disappointed expression from earlier as he spread your legs apart again and pushed two fingers into your tight hole, despite your mewls about you being too sensitive. 

“Look at me,” he ordered. You whined but propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at him with half lids. The setting glow of the was like a halo around his frame as he stood over you. He looked absolutely heavenly, like an angel sent to ruin you. But the hurt in his eyes pulled you back to reality and silenced any other bratty complaints you were about to throw out just to piss him off. 

“Tell me the truth, baby,” he all but begged. “Did you know what he was up to?”

You shook your head immediately. However, that silent answer did not satisfy his curiosities. He slid his fingers deep in you, curling up to push against your favourite spot. You threw your head back, crying out, “No, fuck, I didn’t know, sir.” 

“None of the sir shit, (Y/N). Tell me the truth,” he growled, trying to hide the hurt in his voice. 

You looked back at him, pushing yourself to sit up properly. You leaned back on your hands for support as you stared back into his eyes. You opened your mouth to explain when you heard a car coming up the road. You looked at Jimin, expecting him to release you but he didn’t. He continued to hold your gaze, that stubbornness making a reappearance. 

Your head snapped to the car, catching the familiar pairs of eyes of Jungkook, Hoseok, and Taehyung. They all stared at your bodies with jaws slack, including Hoseok who was driving the car and hadn’t looked through the windshield for a considerable amount of time. Your face flushed red from embarrassment, and you whined out in frustration, looking back to Jimin angrily. 

“Oh,” he hummed sarcastically. “Did I humiliate you, baby?” 

You glared at him as your hips went against your anger and rolled into his hand. He smirked, scoffing at how pathetic you were being. “If you’d swallow your fucking pride, you’d know that I’ve been telling you the truth, Jimin!” you whimpered, cursing yourself for how needy you sounded. 

He met your gaze again, but didn’t say anything. He silently searched your eyes for the answer he was looking for. Your features softened as you caught another glimpse of the pain that swam in his eyes. You bit your lip and placed your hand over his, trying to push it away. He finally complied, pulling his fingers out and was about to wipe them on his pants. 

You caught his hand, bringing his fingers up to your mouth. You didn’t lick and suck at them like he expected you to. Instead, you kissed them. You placed sweet kisses all over his hand, to his wrist, up his arm, pulling him closer to kiss his shoulder. You kissed his collarbone, moving up his neck and jawline, placing kisses anywhere you saw fit. You could taste yourself all over him, but suppressed the urge to moan. This wasn’t about your desires; it was about his. 

You couldn’t believe how selfish you were being. You’ve been pouty and bratty with him too the last few weeks, nagging him about not being around enough. You didn’t take a moment to realize he was yearning for you too. He craved you and you denied him that, making him think you wanted his friends more. His ego wasn’t bruised, you realized. It was his heart. 

Jimin stood between your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist as his chest was flush against yours. His cum was smeared over the two of you now. You hovered your lips over his, gazing lovingly into his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice slightly raspy. It never really fully recovered from that intense throat fuck. “Let me make it up to you,” you begged. “Let me make it right, baby.”

His hands slid down to your hips, pulling them up so that he could align himself with your entrance. His tip poked at your pussy as his lips finally pressed against yours softly. You moaned quietly as he pushed himself in, slowly splitting your pussy while rolling his hips around yours. 

You tangled your hand in his hair and wrapped your legs around his waist. You crossed your ankles, wanting to lock him in your hold forever as your tongues swiped gentle tastes of each other. You pulled away a bit, making him moan needily and chase after your lips. You smiled at the sound. 

He rested his forehead against yours, letting you have your way while he had his. The moment he bottomed out, he began thrusting into you, grinding his hips against yours. He moved his entire body into yours, over and over again, rolling his torso until his hips followed. This, this was how he destroyed your pussy and heart all at once. 

You reattached your lips to his, playing with his tongue while he played with your pussy. You felt yourself clenching around him tighter with every one of his body roll thrusts. 

Jimin broke the kiss this time, pecking the tip of your nose before whispering, “look at me when you cum, baby.”

You tried to keep your eyes open as your stomach knotted so deliciously. Your peaking moans mixed with his breathy growls, and you knew in that moment that that was what love sounded like - or at least, what your love sounded like. 

His cock twitched but he refused to cum before you, a hand leaving the grip he had on your hip to rub fast circles on your clit again. You came within seconds of that extra stimulation, already on edge. You held his gaze like he asked, and squealed his name repeatedly. He couldn’t hold back much longer either, filling your pussy up like he did your mouth not too long ago. 

He continued to roll his hips into yours, even after you began to mewl from the overstimulation. His lips found yours again, kissing you with the same amount of passion he just fucked you with. You were overwhelmed to say the least, whining against his lips as you tried to squirm out of his hold. He chuckled a bit when you pulled away, moaned, “please. It’s just too much, Jiminie.”

Jimin pulled out, watching your cum mixed cum leak out onto the hood of the car. You blushed, gasping and going to close your legs when he held them open, wanting to see the kind of mess he’d made of your pussy. 

“Don’t bother putting your dress back on,” he said as he lifted you off after he decided he had seen enough for now. He reached down and picked up his shirt before carrying you back to the passenger’s side. He set you down and handed you the shirt with a sweet smile. 

Before he could circle around the car, you pulled him in for another kiss. “You know I love you,” you whispered. “I will always love you.”

He tried to keep his lips together as he smiled and nodded. “Yes, baby, I know. I love you too.” He gave you another kiss before backpedaling to the driver’s side, eyes bouncing up and down your figure. 

You blushed, shaking your head at him. After picking up your dress, you hopped into the car, tossing your clothes in the back where he went to retrieve the keys you threw. 

Jimin started the car once he was settled in his seat. He reached for your hand as he began driving, bringing your knuckles to his lips for a tender kiss. Staring out the windshield, you couldn’t help but blush as you saw your cum staining the hood of your car. You sat beside him in nothing but your soiled panties and him in those ruined pants he will probably never wear again. 

“You still mad?”

He kissed your hand, shaking his head, and whispered against your skin, “all better.”

[queen-of-my-goofball-army]

Sakura's First Guitar Lesson

Hi everyone! It's been a while since I've posted some writing here because most of the time I use my a03. For Sk8Tember writing athon I originally wanted to do Fairy Tale day which is tomorrow. However, since I'm currently in the middle of changing up my writing style from first person to third person to try and be a better writer I thought that it would be for the best that I pick Instrument Day because guess what? Today is my birthday! I'm now officially 22 years old even if I don't look or act like it. I'm here to celebrate my birthday with everyone by sharing my new writing with all of you.

Songs mentioned in the fic:

La Via Strangiato: Rush

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eK1hmDpa8bo

The Long And Winding Road: The Beatles

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fR4HjTH_fTM

Let It Be: The Beatles

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QDYfEBY9NM4

Sakura Nanjo rocked back and forth on her heels outside of the music studio that she had her first lessons in. Since she told her parents that the thing she wanted to do more than anything in the world was to learn how to play the bass guitar just like her hero, they had been encouraging. Haru even found that he had a profound interest in learning how to play the drums. In reality, he wanted to do it so that his sister wouldn’t feel alone in wanting to try something new. He would never admit that to her though. There were some things that his sister did not need to know. She would never let him live it down if she knew the actual reason why he was so adamant about learning to play the drums.

“Sakura, if you keep doing that you’re going to wear yourself out. I know that you’re excited but it’s really starting to freak me out.” Her best friend, Miya Chinen, reminded her lightly with that same small smile that he often had when he was around her. He couldn’t help but find this childish and excitable side of her adorable. She would always be cute in his mind but especially when she got excited about the simplest of things. Like learning how to play an instrument that had always spoken to her.

“I can’t help it! I’m excited, I’m nervous, part of my brain is screaming at me because what if this is a really bad idea and what if I’m not any good at this thing that I’ve never tried before and change is terrifying and-“ He lightly put his arm around his best friend cutting off her word vomit. She only got like this when she was way past nervous and her brain to mouth filter failed her.

“Change is scary but it can also be good for you. You told me so yourself that this is something you’ve wanted to do for all your life right?” Sakura nodded her head nervously trying to stop this anxiety from bubbling up inside of her. With the recent diagnosis of aspergers syndrome she’s still learning to cope with the help of her friends and family.

“Well yeah, I’ve always loved the idea of playing music. Especially bass guitar because of my fixation on Rush and on Geddy Lee as a whole.” She argued and he just chuckled lightly at his best friend. Leave it to her to want to do something that could potentially become life altering just because her favorite singer did it too.

“Then I think that it would be a great experience for you to have if it’s something that you really want to do. It’ll make you happy and give you a hobby that you didn’t have before. You really need to have more hobbies other than cooking Saki.” She sighed knowing that her best friend was right as she looked over at the music studio.

“I know that it’s bad. But this could be something that I get really passionate about. I already know that it won’t necessarily be easy. Nothing really ever is easy for me.” She looked down at her skateboard tracing the end of her Haku dragon sticker before sighing slightly. Nobody ever did anything by being anxious about every little change that they came across. If that was the case then most of her favorite music would have never come to exist.

“Skating came rather easily for you after you got those grips for your feet. You just needed to distribute your weight easier than the way that you were.” Miya argued lightly hating that she would get like this sometimes. She shouldn’t ever have the need to feel sad. He preferred her when her ruby red eyes lit up with happiness rather than downcast and saddened like they were right now.

“Yeah that doesn’t mean that I’ll be good at this though… what if all of this is just me being childish?” She just sighed burying her head in her hands. Now that she had been told to stop being so overly excited the dread was starting to sink in. Her playing bass guitar? Yeah and the moon is secretly made of cheese.

“I don’t think that it’s you being childish. I think that it’s you trying to make yourself into a better version of yourself. You’re clearly not happy and you barely do anything for yourself simply because you want to. Saki you can’t know that you suck at something if you’ve never really tried it before. I know that you can do this because you’re the bravest person that I’ve ever met. You can literally do anything that you set your mind to. If you can dream it you can do it.” He comforted her and watched as slowly the light came back to her eyes.

“You’re right! I can do this, and I’ll be good at it as long as I work hard enough at it. I know that I can do this.” She clenched her left fist and shook it up at the sky daring anyone to tell her otherwise. If you asked Miya, this was the first thing that he really noticed about her that was different. He never met anyone that was as determined to do their best until he met Sakura. Her determination to defy every obstacle inspired him to push past his limits as well.

“That’s the stubborn best friend that I know and love.” He lightly teased and she looked down at her lap picking up the instrument that was there. The second that Kaoru found out his beloved daughter wanted to learn to play bass guitar he found the best one that he could through hours of off the clock research. He wanted his little girl to be happy and if this is what would make her happy and confident in her own wicked way then he would do everything that he felt within his power to do so. The guitar that he had eventually chosen for her was a lilac colored and sparkly one that he thought just suited his little girl’s personality.

“Shut up, I know I’m super stubborn already. It’s why me and Haru struggle so hard to see eye to eye because he’s just as stubborn as I am if not more.” She huffed a breath thinking about the argument that her and her brother had gotten into last night. It had been about something so stupid but it had just got blown way out of proportion and now she wasn’t sure if things were going to be awkward around him for a while. It had been about who was going to make dinner that night and Haru just blew up at her. Of course, never to back down from a fight the only thing that Sakura did was yell right back at him.

“He’ll forgive you eventually Saki. He always does you’ll go home and there will be forgive me cookies on the table for you. Besides he’s usually the one who yells first and knows that you will yell back. I’ve never once seen you actually pick the fight with him personally.” Miya hated when Haru would purposefully try and ruin her mood. He knew that he was just going through his own personal hell as he was still in the early stages of transitioning but he didn’t need to take his anger and aggression out on her.

“This one was really stupid though. It was just over who would make dinner since dad had to be at the restaurant late and mom was working late surprising absolutely no one ever.” Kaoru had always been the type that worked long hours even at the cost of not spending a whole lot of time at home with his children. He did the best that he could with the time that he was given and had mandatory time with them on weekends but the house was most of the time silent except for the twins. And sometimes they just couldn’t be around each other without a screaming match breaking out.

“You guys are the kids of Cherry and Joe, it would be weird if you guys didn’t fight constantly.” Miya tried to joked just to hear her laugh, which it worked. The first thing that really drew him to her was that laugh. That loud and open sound when she was well and truly tickled by something or the more quiet sound that he got right now when she was emotional.

“That’s true, come on, I’m thirsty all the sudden and want to get a drink before I have to go in for my first session.” She stretched getting off of the concrete and offered her best friend a hand up off the ground before she stepped onto her board.

“Arizona sweet tea?” He offered her that option and she nodded her head with a small smile on her face. She had fallen in love with her best friend’s sweet tea that he had gotten her addicted to after they got introduced to each other.

“What are you going to do while I’m doing my session?” Miya gestured to his backpack where he was hiding his switch that he brought with him today. He knew that he’d want to spend the afternoon waiting for his best friend to finish her session.

“I’ve got my games in here don’t worry about me. I want to spend the afternoon with you. You’re my best friend and I want to support you in any way that I can.” He encouraged her as they pulled into the connivence store so that they could get their tea and some snacks while they waited. This was a huge deal for her and he wanted her to know how much he supported her.

“You’re going to be amazing Sakura. I know that you will be because you constantly give everything that you can into your interests.” Miya knew that she could do anything that she put her mind to because if his best friend was anything it was bound and determined to do her best at every little thing that she tried. Even if she found that she wasn’t as interested in the idea of playing her favorite instrument as she made it sound both in her head and in the music she listened to, she wouldn’t back down without a fight. That stubborn nature combined with her kind heart had him being pulled even deeper into her orbit.

“I sure hope that your right cat-boy because I am so nervous right now. As was prevalent by my earlier word vomit.” He just smiled softly at her doing his best that he could to be her support system as much as he knew that she was nervous.

“Sometimes your nerves stop you from doing things that you’re really good at though. They stopped you from making genuine friends before now didn’t they? Being nervous about something is considered totally normal. But you can’t let those nerves run your life Sakura. Otherwise you’ll never get anywhere. If you let nerves stop you then there’s so much you can’t really achieve.” He knew the amount of almost crippling anxiety that she struggled with. He had only ever wanted to support her and push her further. As they stopped in front of the music studio and she took a deep breath opening the front door and hearing the sound of somebody in one of the rooms practicing.

“Hello! Are you here for a lesson or just here to see what kinds of facilities we offer here?” Sakura lightly yanked on her ponytail just to try and ground herself.

“My mom scheduled my appointment, it’s Sakura Nanjo. I want to learn how to play the bass guitar.” She told the clerk and Miya just squeezed her hand sympathetically. Talking to people that she didn’t know was never a skill that Sakura had excelled at. Haru was always the people person not really her.

“Oh that’s right!! Your mother did call in to our shop so we’re excited to begin to teach you. We’ll have your teacher be with you in just a moment. You’re welcome to look around. He mentioned that you’d bring your own instrument?” She nodded her head holding up her guitar sleeved she had walked her with her.

“He bought it for me a few days ago and came home with it the day before yesterday!” Sakura showed her the guitar that her mom had bought for her that matched her personality.

“That is really pretty!! It does seem to match your bright and bubbly personality. Are you here for lessons too or just moral support?” Miya put his arm around his best friend’s shoulders supportively with a small smile on his face.

“I’m just here for the moral support factor. She struggles with nerves and anxiety and I thought that it would be easier for her if she had me here to support her.” He reasoned and she smiled gratefully at her best friend. Despite only being friends for a few months she knew that there was something unique about the video game obsessed boy next to her. Something that was life altering and that she wouldn’t ever want to change.

“That’s really sweet of you!! I’ll go and tell your teacher that your ready to learn.” The worker went off in search of the bass guitar teacher and Sakura’s ear twitched lightly.

“Are you hearing La Villa Strangiato?” Her ear was always in tune to when a Rush song was being played around her. Miya couldn’t help but laugh lightly at her as he had been hearing it since they had come into the studio. She must have been way too nervous to notice that somebody had been playing a song by her favorite band.

“They’ve been playing it since we walked in. Want to go and see who it is?” She followed the sound of the guitar as it led her to a spare room where a girl with dark hair and baby blue highlights was playing a guitar. She was wearing a different school uniform than the one that they were wearing. It had a music note on the band around the arm. Maybe she went to a music school of some kind? Whomever she was, she was clearly absorbed in the music that she was playing. And what’s more than that, she was a good. Good from years of clear practice at her craft and good from knowing exactly what she was doing. Miya accidentally leaned into Sakura’s side a bit too far trying to get a better look at the girl and knocked her over. The girl that as playing the instrument suddenly stoped and looked over at Sakura who was on the ground.

“Sorry Saki!” He frantically apologized offering her a hand and helped her to dust off the back of her skirt.

“Are you guys new? I thought that I closed that door!! Sorry if I was playing too loud, my dad runs the studio here I don’t take lessons.” The girl apologized very clearly worried that she had distracted them from something.

“Sakura is here to get lessons but she’s a huge rush fan and knew exactly what you were playing. She wanted to see the person that was playing La Villa Strangiato.” Miya explained to the girl lightly put off by the fact that the girl instantly took Sakura’s hands in her own.

“A fellow Rush fan?! At long last!! I’m Kayla Sunohara!! Super awesome to meet you Sakura.” She introduced herself excitedly and Miya just possessively gripped her hand.

“I’m Sakura Nanjo, this is my best friend Miya Chinen. How long have you been studying Alex Lifeson?” Miya buried his face into Sakura’s shoulder, trying on a whim to keep the possessive nature that he was feeling come up his spine. She’s allowed to have other friends and not just me. She should have a female friend who likes the same style of music as she does. It was only a matter of time before Sakura made another friend that wasn’t just me. She’s too nice for me to keep all to myself like that.

“Oh I’ve been studying his work since I first started playing when I was seven!! What about you? You interested in studying Geddy Lee?” Sakura gripped her bass guitar a little bit firmer in her hands nodding her head.

“That’s so cool…” She gushed and Kayla just laughed a bit waving her hand up and down in a dismissive manner.

“It’s not really anything that fantastic, I’m nowhere near his level and I probably never will be. But his guitar is what inspired me to pick up my own. What about you? Why did you want to learn bass?” Miya couldn’t help the halfhearted glare that he was sending to the other guitarist. He didn’t know why, maybe it was because he hadn’t had friends in so long but he wanted all of Sakura’s attention on him.

“Sakura?” The lady in the front of the studio called her name and she instantly lightly hugged her best friend noticing the slight stiffness in his appearance.

“Miya, I have to go. Is there something wrong?” He shook his head at her putting on the fakest smile that he could muster at the moment.

“I’ll be alright, I’ve got my games and I’m going to play these games with Sunohara.” He lightly told her and she just sighed a little bit.

“Look we’ll talk later cat boy alright? Don’t do anything stupid like start a fight or whatever.” She lightly told him with a small smirk on her face going out of the room and carrying everything over to the room.

“Miss Nanjo? I’m Shizuko, I’m going to be your teacher.” She took a deep breath just trying to do the final calming of her nerves. “I’m Sakura, it’s nice to meet you.” She bowed before her teacher with a small smile on her face carrying the guitar.

“It’s nice to meet you as well. Why don’t you come with me and we can figure out what you want to do and why?” As her teacher led the way she couldn’t help but look at everything with this sheer ease of wonder and light.

“So, why do you want to learn how to play bass guitar?” She sat down in the chair in front of her putting the guitar on her lap lightly.

“I want to play guitar because I was deeply inspired by Geddy Lee. My dad he raised me on Rush because that was what he loved back in high school.” Her teacher listened to her speak passionately about her love of the music that had inspired her to get through the day.

“My little sister has been studying the art of Alec Lifeson for a majority of her life. So I totally get that you can be inspired by the lead singer. He’s a big inspiration for everyone that ever felt like they didn’t fit in. She’s going to probably take over this studio one of these days.” Shizuko bragged about her younger sister that was now bonding with Miya over a shared love of video games in the spare room.

“I met your sister! She was playing La Villa Strangiato in another room. I thought that she was really amazing at it too. She’s really talented.” Sakura exclaimed her praises towards the other main guitarist. Her teacher just laughed a little bit already foreseeing a future friendship between her newest student and her younger sibling.

“You really know your stuff if you knew the exact song that she was playing. Music has always been something that brought us closer together as a family. Performing has been something that was passed down through the lines. Our dad taught us when we were just little kids so it’s always been a big part of our lives tighter. So what do your parents do?” She put her guitar on the floor knowing that this would just be an initial interview to see what she wanted to do and why.

“My dad he runs an Italian restaurant, Sia La Luce by the marina that’s what I’m going to do when I get older too. That’s what I was doing until both of my parents decided that I should be allowed to be a teenager for a little while. I’ve wanted to play bass guitar ever since I first started to deep dive and I really learned what music was and what instruments did what. It wasn’t just Geddy Lee. I’ve been inspired by countless other artists as well.” She reasoned and the teacher just smiled to herself. She had a feeling that this student would excel really far at the guitar. She also thought that her sister might finally make a really good friend.

“Do you do well in school? Do you have any other interests?” She nodded her head with a small smile on her face thinking about her lessons in skateboarding.

“I’m currently learning how to skateboard finally. My parents both do it and compete in their own ways. My brother picked it up like a fish to water. I’ve only recently started to learn how because a friend wanted to teach me. He’s the first friend that I’ve ever made. I was relatively well liked by my classmates but we weren’t ever really friends. I do pretty good in school depending on the subject. I’m mostly good at math and English but struggle with science. That’s my brother’s area of expertise.” Sakura talked about the little things in school that she enjoyed doing.

“Science isn’t for everyone and it’s not your fault that you aren’t very good at that class. I’m sure that yo excel in other areas. Who are some of your other heroes in music that aren’t behind Rush?” As important as having one hero was, Shizuko knew that she wouldn’t get very far if that was the only genre of music that she wanted to play.

“The one that my mom got me hooked on from a young age was Queen so I’ve always admired John Deacon. He was the quiet one so not a lot of people really think about how important he was. He was both an incredible bass player but he wrote some of Queen’s most iconic songs. Also, Paul McCartney has always been one of my favorite musicians for The Beatles and for Wings. Really I found a lot of different musician heroes that I could aspire to one day learn more about. I have a recent diagnosis of aspergers that caused me to rethink a lot of what interested me.” Sakura was still just ever so slightly self conscious about what had interested her. She’d had so many people judge her that weren’t Miya it felt like. Shizuko couldn’t hep but smile softly as this young tween in front of her reminded her so much of her when she was younger. From the admiration that she had of all these different styles of bass guitarists to her naturally shy disposition.

“There’s a lot of really beautiful Beatles songs, do you have a favorite one?” She nodded her head with a small smile on her face.

“My favorite is The Long And Winding Road. Many times I’ve been alone and many times I’ve cried anyway you’ll never know the many ways I’ve tried. It reminds me of my relationship with my brother. We get into a lot of really heated arguments but at the end of the day he’s my twin brother and I love him.” The entirety of Let It Be was her favorite non-Rush album of all time and it was one that she listened to consistently when she was alone in her bedroom. Her parents got her a record player when she was eight because that was the item she most desperately wanted. Ever since then she’d been collecting records and she shared it with Haru.

“You sing really, really well for somebody your age. That takes a lot of talent, have you ever done it professionally?” Do my friends in Italy count? We’re kind of a band I guess and I always love singing with them. While Sakura had friends before Miya, they didn’t live in this country. Rather they all lived in Italy. They were the only large group of people that had welcomed her into their group.

“I have a couple of friends in Italy where my dad did his studying for his restaurant. We go back every summer just about and my friends and I we sing. I’ve always appreciated singing because it was something that I could control. It could be loud or quiet. I could train it to sing in different styles.” She explained her dynamic with her small group of female friends that welcomed her with open arms years ago. Found family movie nights on Friday’s were something that she always looked forward to even if it was earlier in the afternoon for her then it was for them.

“I don’t know very many young girls that are that into singing. They do it for fun a lot of them but none of them that do it for fun are very good. Not unless they put in the effort. Talent takes effort. You have to put in the work and make the commitment in order for talent to come from that. Taking on an instrument is a pretty big commitment especially with the guitar. Sometimes you just want to throw the thing against the wall and call it a day. But then you get back to it and you’re suddenly able to do it and you feel this sense of self worth and accomplishment.” Shizuko tried to make her young pupil see things from her perspective. She had lost a lot of younger students because they weren’t serious about the instrument. Once they saw the first sign of struggle they threw in the towel and gave everything up.

“I’m willing to put in the work. I just need a teacher to show me how things work.” Sakura never did anything halfway. She was either all in or had absolutely zero interest in the task at hand. She had grown up around the sound of a bass guitar coming from every room in the house in some capacity.

“I can tell that you’re one of the serious ones about this otherwise you wouldn’t have stayed after that talk. Most of the students leave because I’m “too harsh”. I just want people to try their best and to succeed in the areas where they should.” The teacher ranted and Sakura couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. That threat hadn’t even begun to diminish her joy at the idea of simply being here.

“My mom is a lot more scary than that so I’m used to the idea of being threatened. Music has always been a part of my life and now I want to learn how to play it.” She said confidently and by the look on her face Shizuko knew that she had found a gem in the rocks.

“That was why I wanted to learn how to play bass too. I grew up hearing it with my dad because he loves all different kinds of music really but it was a whole lot of Beatles, Rush, Queen, Heart, and a lot of other artists that just seemed to flow out of the windows. I’m glad that you came in today Sakura. I can’t wait to start teaching you. We’re just going to gloss over the essentials today.” Sakura looked at her teacher one question burning in the back of her brain. “What is your favorite Beatles song?” Shizuko blinked a little bit in confusion before a small smirk appeared on her face.

“My favorite Beatles song is Let It Be. Has been since I was a little kid, Mary was my mother’s name. She died last year so it’s been kind of a rough point in my life. But that song has always gotten me through bad times. And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me. Shine until tomorrow let it be.” As Shizuko told her new student about her song obsession Sakura’s heart warmed. It was such a beautiful story that she couldn’t help but love it.

“I’m sorry for the loss of your mom. That really must have hurt something awful. Is it just you, your dad, and your sister now?” Sakura pulled her hair back a little bit further with a small smile on her face playing with the ends of her ponytail.

“Thank you so much sweetheart that makes a lot to me. My dad has a girlfriend, they were divorced for a while since Kayla was younger. It was a bit of an experience for me to deal with but we’re still a family anyways.” Shizuko reasoned and her student just smiled sympathetically at her. She had no idea what it would be like if there was a fight that just pushed things over that sometimes tightrope edge that her parents walked on. When she was younger she feared that one day one of them would fall off the tightrope and it would end their relationship. That it would go out in a burning inferno and that one fatal argument would end their bickering relationship. It wasn’t until she got a bit older and wiser when she learned that their love language was bickering.

“I’m glad that you were still able to have that family. My family can be a bit loud and chaotic personally. It’s a lot of bickering and a lot of arguing sometimes about the simplest of things. But I love my parents even if half the time it’s like I’m the parent and they are the children under my care. My twin brother isn’t really that much better.” Shizuko laughed openly at the idea of this family as she could completely visualize it. From what she had gathered when she had spoken with Kaoru Sakurayashiki the man seemed like a complete overprotective but at the same time loving mom figure.

“So you have two dad’s right?” She nodded her head getting out her phone and showing her a picture of them all skating together.

“I have two dad’s. My brother and I were surrogate children because they wanted kids with their own DNA. To keep things less complicated when we were kids me and Haru decided okay your mom and you’re dad. It’s been that way ever since. Our family dynamic is a bit unique because of it but I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if they weren’t my parents. They bicker like people that have known each other their entire lives because that’s what they do.” She settled against the back of the chair that she was currently in.

“Do you and your brother bicker a lot because of the fact that your parents do?” Sakura sighed heavily playing with her index fingers. She hated the fact that she had instantly been called out like that.

“Well… yeah we kind of do. Both of us are naturally stubborn types of people and sometimes it gets to be rather explosive. If it’s a day that we don’t get into at least a little spat well then that’s a miracle I feel like. We’ve really put our parents through hell these last several years especially.” She picked at the hem on her skirt just wishing that she could finally get along with her brother. It was so hard for them to see eye to eye though. Half of the time she had no idea what he was thinking and why he was doing the things that he was doing. She just wanted to help and every time that she tried he exploded on her.

“Sometimes siblings just don’t get along. You’re one of the lucky pairs if you don’t fight every time that your put in the same room together as children. My sister and I still fight a lot because we’re just different kinds of people. I’m sure that it’s the same way with your brother and you.” The older of the two of them felt the pain that the younger one went through like it was her own. There was a time a few years ago where a positive relationship between her and Kayla seemed like a wish on a dying star. It was just plain not going to happen.

“I want to be a better sister to him. I know that I do. I also just really want something to bond with him over. He wants to learn to play the drums.” Her teacher smiled at her instantly feeling that sense of love that Sakura had for her brother.

“Now that we’ve gotten all of that personality stuff squared away I know how to properly teach you. We’ll put primary focus on songs from the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s rock n’roll because that seems to be the genre that you enjoy the most. I appreciate the taste it’s a welcomed change of pace. I get so many people that tell me their favorite artist is somebody more modern.” She got her own red guitar that looked familiar enough to the young tween in front of her.

“That a version of Brain May’s red special isn’t it? For the bass guitar?” Shizuko grinned openly at the girl in front of her for recognizing the iconic guitar.

“My dad also happens to make guitars here so I asked for this one to be custom made once I started teaching. It’s always been my favorite guitar that’s an icon so I asked if he could take that concept and make it into a bass guitar for me. I used to do band when I was in school and now I’m going to college for music theory.” That guitar had gotten the teacher through a lot when she was younger. Everyone has their little things that they’re obsessed with and for Shizuko that would definitely be her guitar. She couldn’t live without it.

“That sounds like me with my cookbook. I can’t go anywhere without it. My mom calls it my grounding object because it helps me to stay calm and it helps me to remember my goals and ambitions. I want to one day make food that will make people happy just like my dad. If that means that I have to do the same training that he did in Italy for four years then so be it. Whatever it takes to make people smile when they eat my food.” Whatever it takes to make Miya happy when he eats my food. I want to keep making meals for him that he’ll love. I want to get him on a healthier diet. She shook the thought right out of her head, now was not the time to start thinking about Miya. It was the time to start learning the basics of the instrument that had always inspired her.

“Your mom mentioned that you have a recent diagnosis of aspergers?” She nodded her head unzipping her own guitar and showing it to her teacher.

“I got it a few weeks ago when it was still summer break. We went to Hokkaido to get it in a beach town since my family and found family wanted to go on a small vacation.” The shiny guitar that was in her hands made Shizuko smile softly. It was obvious that everyone in the familial unit that made her heart happy.

“Does that boy that was with you, is he in your found family?” She blushed a bright pink and her teacher couldn’t keep back the cackle of laughter from leaving her.

“Miya is my best friend, I’ve only known him for a few months but he’s… well he’s everything to me. I never had a friend before him really. I was popular enough with my classmates but was never asked to hang out when I wasn’t in class. That was fine with me but I never really thought about how deep down lonely I really was. Loneliness started to get to me and I was depressed every time I would go to school.” As Sakura talked about what she went through during these last few months the sadness in her voice was evident. She had spent the last couple of months just half alive until she met Miya who had brought life and color back into her eyes.

“I’m sorry that happened to you sweetheart, I know that you’ve struggled a lot during the course of your life. Sometimes we just need to wait until the right person comes into your life. I didn’t meet my best friend until I was eighteen and she’s been there for me every step of the way. I only had rent-a-friends during my entire childhood.” Shizuko reasoned and she played with the ends of curly hair with a small laugh.

“He’s easily the best thing that has ever happened to me. We do everything together now and he’s been teaching me skateboarding.” She lifted the guitar that was in her hands and put it over her lap. Shizuko demonstrated the first cord that she would be teaching her and Sakura easily copied the same note. She was instantly feeling the energy that she was actually really good at this job.

“Skateboarding can be very difficult but I know that you must feel very passionately about the art from. It can be a lot of fun actually. My friend’s and I used to do it all the time when we were back in high school. I still skate because it’s rather simple to get from place to place that way.” Shizuko reasoned with the young girl as she showed her the chord again and Sakura hit it with ease. The teacher was surprised at the amount of talent that the girl clearly had for somebody that had never touched a guitar before. It was something that she was just clearly passionate about.

“I was never really able to do it until a friend of mine was able to make me a custom board. I had to have little divots for my feet to go so that I could maintain my balance. I have really bad balance normally so trying to do that on a skateboard was just a plain old recipe for disaster.” Sakura laughed a little bit at the pain of the moment as the timer on Shizuko’s phone buzzed.

“We spent most of the session today learning about each other so that we can better work together through this experience. I know that you’re going to be one of the best students that I’ve ever taken on. I’ll see you again next week?” Sakura nodded her head zipping up her guitar before her teacher stopped her.

“For right now, I think that I should keep the guitar here. It’s probably difficult skating with it right? I can have my sister drop off a rental at your house since she’ll probably be one of your closest friends.” Her teacher reasoned and she handed the sparkly guitar to her teacher.

“Thank you, I’m looking forward to you teaching me as well!” She looked down at her shoes with a small smile on her face. Sakura bowed right before she left the room easily picking up her backpack with a small smile on her face as she heard Miya’s familiar laugh.

“Hey! I finished my session. What did you two get up to?” Sakura flopped onto the ground next to her best friend and he instantly put his arm comfortably around her shoulders. He had missed her despite her only being gone for a small amount of time.

“We were just playing some Crash Bandicoot!! Your friend is really good at video games. How did your first session with my sister go? Was she too hard on you? She can be a lot during first sessions. I try to be a lot more open minded and friendly with my students.” Kayla mentioned off handedly as the pinkette just shook her head.

“No she was actually really, really cool. I liked my studies quite a bit and I’m excited to come back next week. I’m hungry for dinner though, you coming cat-boy?” She lightly ruffled his dark hair as he nodded his head against her shoulder. As much as he knew that she had to make new friends and that it wouldn’t be just the two of them forever and ever he would always be protective over her. She might be her friend but I’ll always be her best friend. Nothing in the world can change that.

[likeshipsonthesea]

I dare you to post their get together from chowder's perspective because you're an amazing and magical writer and I'd love to read it at any level of editing

well u did dare me :P inspired heavily by this post

the thing is, chowder really, really loves his new friends.

nursey is so cool and funny and nice and he knows all this poetry that sounds so cool and he always saves chowder a piece of pie when he isn’t there and bitty’s on a baking binge, and he helps chowder write Important Emails and doesn’t even complain when chowder asks him about the exclamation point in the third paragraph for the fourth time

and dex is really smart and has a dry sense of humor and he cares so much about people even when he pretends he doesn’t, he does his laundry when chowder does and lets chowder match all the socks while he folds both of their clothes with like retail level precision and he’s great to sit and work on coding with and never gets upset when chowder interrupts him to ask him why a certain part isn’t working right and he helps bitty make him soup and pastries when he gets sick right before finals week their frog fall semester

and they’re both swawesome at hockey, they do their very best to keep the dirty puck away from his net, and they are such swawesome people and literally the only thing he doesn’t like about his new friends is how adamant they are about not liking each other

he tries, at first, to correct their complaining when they come to him. “the guy refuses to listen to anyone who isn’t himself,” nursey groans, muffled, because his face is pressed against chowder’s pillow, and chowder very kindly explains that dex is a bit stubborn sometimes but he always listens to chowder, even when he has a differing opinion, and when dex wraps himself in chowder’s duvet like a burrito and grumbles out, “he acts like he’s chill all the fucking time just to fuck with me,” chowder says that nursey acts like he’s chill even when dex isn’t there and also, why do you think he’s acting?? i think he’s just that chill

but as time goes on he realizes that neither of them believe him because they haven’t seen it for themselves and, look, he could try and orchestrate some plot where they secretly see one another being good people and miraculously change their opinion about each other and they all become a happy trio of friendos with no animosity at all, but chowder is also an ncaa athlete, a stem major, and someone who likes to party a fair amount. he’s got no time for that kind of bullshit.

and so they go through spring term and things aren’t greeattt all the time and sometimes nursey and dex get into screaming matches on the quad and chowder just has to pretend like he doesn’t know them, but most of the time it’s good, it’s fine, and he really does love his friends.

then they lose the frozen four, something happens that neither of them will tell him about, and the fuckers go and gang up on him

it seems, after all the times chowder told them about how they’re both funny and good at hockey and passionate about school and all the other things they have in common, they decide instead to bond over their mutual love of chirping their very best friend in the whole wide world.

to be honest, he’s just glad they’re getting along.

and they still show up at his room all hours of the night and day to burrow into his bed and complain about each other, but at least now chowder lives in the haus and he can eat pie as he pretends to listen to them.

and maybe he starts noticing how some of the complaints aren’t necessarily the kind of thing you’d expect, like “how are his eyes so fucking green, it’s impossible to win an argument when he’s staring at you” or “have you seen how many freckles he has after summer break?? he’s like one giant freckle, it’s unfairly distracting” and despite not really paying attention, he starts to notice when the tone of complaining changes from i hate this guy to i hate how pretty this guy is

he never brings it up. once again, he does not have time to try and get his two best friends together on top of all his other responsibilities, but he notes it down anyway. for being-a-good-friend-purposes. like when ransom sets nursey up with a girl on the volleyball team, chowder spends the whole night watching monty python movies with dex on the couch, and kindly ignores the relief in dex’s shoulders when nursey shows up to breakfast the next day and relays that the date was a bust. and when they’re doing workouts at the gym, chowder very deftly navigates nursey away from the weights when dex is using them to spare him from turning into a mumbling mess at the sight of dex’s arms

and maybe he notices when they start becoming more self aware and the complaining-about-appearance becomes complaining-about-good-things, like nursey saying, in the middle of a rant, “you know he’s fixed betsy like fifteen times in the past two weeks? how the fuck can you fix an oven fifteen different ways? that’s insane” or when dex pauses his recount of nursey’s ridiculous chill behavior to mention, “he’s been editing ransom’s thesis because he knows how much ransom stresses over grammar and he’s like, really good at it”

and it’s probably at this point that chowder breaks the bro code and tells farmer all about his dumb friends and their dumb mutual infatuation, because lbr here the boy cannot handle all this pining on his own. “they’re in love with each other but they think it’s hate”

“i know, i know” farmer soothes, running her fingers through his hair

“why are boys so dumb” chowder laments

farmer, who is currently wearing her best bra and pantie set under her clothes, sighs deeply. “i don’t know,” she says, equally forlorn.

then, well, then the dib flip happens and nursey and dex are literally shoved together and either one or both of them -- chowder has an inkling that it’s dex, but he’s not sure -- seems to freak out and neither of them comes to his room to complain for the rest of the term.

and then chowder has the greatest summer of his life, his former captain wins the stanley cup, and bitty and jack get to kiss on center ice, and chowder gets to attend a training camp with the falcs and jack and he’s on the ice with twenty stanley cup champions and chowder doesn’t come down from this high until he shows up at the haus and finds out that something has gone horribly wrong.

despite the frequent texts, calls, and facetimes, dex and nursey didn’t seem to have as great summers as they’d made it appear. they don’t really tell him directly -- that’s another thing they have in common, never talking about their emotions plainly -- but from what chowder can glean from what they do tell him, is that dex’s family seemed to take jack and bitty’s coming out as evidence towards dex’s queerness and they were dealing with it... less than great, and nursey’s parents had a fight and had since been jettisoning around the world for “work” in an attempt to avoid one another and, as a result, nursey

the living together thing goes.. not swawesome. chowder is obviously disappointed that he no longer has his two best friends just a bathroom away, but after dex moves into the basement, both nursey and dex start coming back to his room for complain sessions again and it’s -- chowder wants to say it’s a good sign.

it starts out mostly complaint complaining, the familiar stuff from their frog year, but slowly but surely as the year goes on the old “his fucking hair” and “he literally helped a little old lady carry her groceries to her car” come back into play and chowder lets go of some stress he hadn’t realized he’d been holding

“they’re going to make me go gray before i’ve even hit 25,” chowder says, another night when he’s complaining to farmer, and farmer says, “you’d look sexy as a silver fox,” and, well. the rest of the night is spent very much not complaining

senior year, they’ve got an ncaa championship under their belt and dex is the captain. he stops coming to chowder’s dorm, probably out of some sense of loyalty to his team that chowder finds both ridiculous and sweet. nursey seems to have no qualms complaining about his captain, on the other hand, but soon even the thin veneer of complaining he’d covered all his pining with has washed away.

“he’s so good with the baby frogs,” and “never tell this to another living soul, but his cherry pie is even better than bitty’s,” and, one memorable night, “do you think i’m in love with dex?”

it’s after sunset, the world dark outside chowder’s window but he’s not exactly sure of the time, and nursey’s lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and he looks -- chill. he doesn’t always look chill anymore -- looking back, chowder can admit that maybe the ever-present chill from their frog year had been more a show than anything else -- so this chill means something important, chowder thinks.

chowder thinks, smiling a little, that nursey is finally ready.

“of fucking course i think you’re in love with dex,” chowder bursts out with the frustration that’s a by-product of having patience for three and a half fucking years. “you’ve come into my room at all hours of the day since we were freshmen to complain about how pretty his freckles are, you’ve been in love with the dude for years, and i’ve had to sit here and deal with all of it.”

nursey’s staring at him with a slightly open mouthed, wide-eyed expression.

chowder gathers his poise and then says, very calmly, “yes.”

nursey nods, once or twice slowly and then picking up speed. “wow. okay.”

“i’ve been holding that in for a while.”

“i could tell.”

“hmm.”

a stupid, hopeful, optimistic part of chowder thought that would be the end of it. nursey realized he’s in love with dex, he’d tell dex, and they’d be all stupid and gross and finally chowder would get them back for years of fines.

but nothing seems to change. nursey still comes in and ostensibly complains while pining and dex still doesn’t, instead apparently baking away his frustration (and it’s not like chowder’s going to complain about that) and really, chowder should’ve known these two idiots would need more than a few sentences to get over their combined stupidity

it comes to a head a week before graduation. never let it be said that chowder’s friends are anything less than Dramatic Fuckers

he’s helping dex pack away everything he won’t need in the next few days so when he and nursey leave for new york after graduation there won’t be much to do. he finds a random green beanie in a drawer with dex’s workout clothes and says, “hey, where should i put this?” and dex gets the most ridiculous sappy look on his face.

he hasn’t technically been chowder’s captain since the season ended with a back to back ncaa championship a month ago, and it’s not like dex has any authority over him after how many times he bugged chowder about nursey’s nose, so it’s without hesitation and with purely dex’s best interests at heart that chowder says, “you know you’re in love with him, right?”

dex surprises him then by saying, “yeah.”

a vein in chowder’s neck nearly pops. “then why the fuck have i been listening to nursey pine about your eyelashes for months.”

dex’s eyes widen and, when he gets over the surprise elation whatever, he stumbles over some stupid explanation that captains shouldn’t date their players and it wasn’t the right time and all this other absolute crap, and so chowder does the most meddling he’s ever allowed himself to do and tells dex that he will finish the packing as long as he goes and finds nursey right this fucking second

when nursey and dex tell the story to him and farmer later -- dex blushing and nursey embellishing with his arm curled around dex’s shoulders, pulling him close -- chowder will laugh and tease them and play his part as their very best friend in the whole wide world.

but that night, when he’s gross and sweaty from packing up dex’s entire fucking room and he can’t even sleep in his own goddamned bed because his friends are being exceptionally loud just one bathroom away, he shows up on farmer’s doorstep and says, with all the sincerity in the world, “i hate my friends”

[mattbflatt-loves-starset]

The Progression of Failed Love - A STARSET Playlist

Y’all ever make a playlist before? That shit is so much fun. Using the music by your favorite artists and ordering them in such a way that portrays your own idea or story... I love it, and I’ve only just started doing it. It’s a very unique way to creatively express yourself. Now that I’ve hyped my audience up, it’s time to break all of your hearts by sharing my playlist of STARSET songs called “The Progression of Failed Love” which follows the story of a typical young couple who just couldn’t make it work. Yes I know, this is a dumb movie trope told a million times and blah blah blah, but this is my blog so deal with it ya fuckin’ dorks… of course I’m kidding, and in all seriousness, this was the most genuine playlist I was able to make. I have my own personal connection to it, and if you’ve had a relationship before, you’ll most likely find a way to connect to it. I enjoy it, and I hope you do as well.

The playlist’s first three songs in order are “Satellite”, “DIE FOR YOU”, and “Starlight”, and they encompass the honeymoon stage of a budding relationship. Let’s call these songs Act I of this story. “Satellite” to me really embodies the feeling one gets when they first fall for someone. The energy is high and all you can think about is what you would do for this individual, with lyrics that support this idea greatly:

“Satellite! Shine on me tonight!

I will be your gravity, I will stay and never leave…

My satellite! Are you here tonight?

Shine your light and set me free.

Take the darkness out of me.

Shine on me!”

The relationship hasn’t started yet, but the interest is growing like crazy. These lyrics hit hard, check out the rest of them here:

STARSET – Satellite Lyrics 

“DIE FOR YOU” is just a more intense version of “Satellite” within the context of this story, but it makes sense because this song represents when the relationship is now official. Both parties have fallen for each other, and the love is starting to run deep. The whole vibe of the song is much more intimate, with a calmer kit part (hot damn Adam Gilbert you are smart with writing your kit parts), but yet the same exact key and even a similar tempo. The songs are so similar, yet so different, and it’s really smart. Kudos to STARSET for this, and as a personal benefit, it makes the story of this playlist flow really well.

Starset - Die For You (Official Audio) 

“Starlight” is a very specific moment in time, and marks the end of the honeymoon phase. The couple is stargazing, and the sky is just beautiful. I see many colors and galaxies in the night sky when listening to this song. The only thing is, they aren’t physically together. Their lives have picked up, and while they can’t be with each other at the moment, they still love each other very much, so they stargazed on a phone call. They are sad that they have to spend less time together, but they reassure each other that they love the other person very much, and that they are inseparable. This song has a very special place in my heart, as it’s just a beautiful song that makes me think a lot. I get a little heartsick listening to it, as it makes me think about memories that are dear to me, but it fits this spot perfectly in my playlist story.

Starset - Starlight (Official Lyric Video)

The honeymoon period has now concluded and we are moving into Act II of this story, where problems arise. This act starts with the song “Telepathic”, which has a frustrating feel to me. The song is from the perspective of only one of the characters, as they feel their significant other expects them to be a mind reader and won’t share emotions by just talking about them. As I’m sure a lot of people understand, this is infuriating to deal with, as it just makes people typically want to slam their head through a fuckin’ brick wall. At the same time, this character is very easily read by their significant other, as they wear their heart on their sleeve, making it seem like their lover is… well… “Telepathic”. This brings up insecurity, and arguments ensue. The lyrics support this idea well, for example:

“But you can read my mind

I feel it all the time.

Felt it all around you…

You had me under spell right from the start

I don’t have a telepathic heart.”

STARSET – Telepathic Lyrics 

The arguments get worse as we progress into the song “FAULTLINE”. This song has a lot to do with pointing fingers and blaming, as now both lovers in this story are outright arguing with each other a lot, and over stupid shit too. They aren’t handling being apart from each other well and are having a hard time with communication due to insecurity and distance. The vibe of this song fits this mood, as it’s got a sparse but tense groove, and the accompanying guitar/synth parts are rough and a bit grungy. Out of all the songs in this playlist, this one takes 3nd place for the lyrics fitting well into the story, with such snippets as:

“First you gotta know, how to play the victim

Hate to tell ya so, but you repeat the symptoms like an aftershock

And I only wanna make it stop…”

And also:

“Caught me shaking at the site, oh

Caught me quaking in my mind, oh

You’re tripping over every fault of mine

You’re breaking open every single time

It’s never black and white, no

Going seismic out of spite, oh

I never know if it’s your fault or mine

You’re breaking open every single time

Faultline.”

STARSET - FAULTLINE (Official Audio)

 Like damn, that entire second snippet is the whole ass chorus. This song fits super well here.

The last song in Act II has some intense, even lustful feelings tied to it, this song being “PERFECT MACHINE”. The couple is desperate to make things work, as they still love each other very much but are really struggling. When they see each other, they engage constantly in what people called “hate-fucking” which ultimately solves nothing, and then fighting after they are done. Yes I know this was a WILD turn out of left field, but this is the story I envision with this playlist, very intense and potentially very real. The song I feel is the entire progression of one… erm… let’s call it a “session” of what was described above. It starts with the lustful feelings I mentioned before, then about one third of the way through the song, the entire feeling changes, becoming very angry and desperate. This song takes 2nd place for lyrics best fitting the story, with the lyrics changing from this:

“Show me your insides, show me your secrets

Show me what you desire… I can fake it”

To this:

“Even you know… even you know, this was all for nothing…”

STARSET - PERFECT MACHINE (Official Audio)

STARSET – PERFECT MACHINE Lyrics 

Again, damn bro. I relate to this part of the story the least, as I’ve never experienced something like this, but holy shit that still cuts deep.

Finally, we reach Act III of this story, the end and the aftermath. This act opens up with “Let It Die”, which is the song that marks the inevitable end of this relationship. This song talks a lot about “breathing back life” into something and I feel that marks the end of a relationship very well. The feelings have been lost and it’s very possible that at least one party has moved on, so it needs to end. There’s not much to say about this song, except the one lyric that really made this song claim its spot on this playlist:

“But you told me, if you loved me, let it die”

Starset - Let It Die (Official Audio)

The relationship is now over, and one of the characters has left the narrative. We now enter the mind of the one who was still holding on to feelings. With this, the penultimate song to this playlist is the iconic “My Demons”. This song paints the image of inner demons attacking someone, and how they once had a significant other that would save them from these demons. The song references sickness, demons, needing help, and other color words that really paint the picture of someone mourning the death of love they once had. It is one of STARSET’s most emotionally impactful songs, and every single OG STARSET fan knows this song. This part of the story is the perfect spot for this song, and though I don’t want to copy another batch of lyrics for the purpose of finishing this story, I strongly encourage you to just listen to the song and pay attention to these lyrics. They’re very audible and very emotionally charged.

Starset - My Demons (Official Music Video)

We have finally reached the end, and the song that ends this whole story is “Ricochet”, another one of STARSET’s best songs. I know what I said about not copying another batch of lyrics to this post, but this song wins 1st place for lyrics relating to the story on this playlist, because this song is literally about reflection on a failed relationship and just wanting to see the other person:

“We were one in the same,

Running like moths to the flames,

You’d hang on every word I’d say 

But now they only ricochet…

We were falling away,

You left me with a bittersweet taste,

But when I send my heart your way,

It bounces off the walls you made,

Ricochet”

COME. ON. You CANNOT tell me this isn’t the best way to conclude this really sad story. This isn’t the only set of lyrics in the song that paints this picture well, THE WHOLE SONG DOES. Back to the story, time has passed and the remaining character still misses their ex-lover. They’ve tried really hard to rebuild some sort of relationship with them, but it just didn’t work. This song is the final stage of their mourning, and while they know very deep down that it will get better, they need this time to grieve.

Starset - Ricochet (Official Music Video)

STARSET – Ricochet Lyrics

I don't relate to this entire story, but it was sure as hell fun to write. I apologize for any emotional pain that I have caused during the telling of this story, but this is what came to mind when I was creating the playlist. You’re a real one if you made it to the end, this being my longest post yet. I really hope you enjoyed.

Links Used (In Order):

https://genius.com/Starset-satellite-lyrics 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WJxSNbAer9M 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tiCEp3K3Rs 

https://genius.com/Starset-telepathic-lyrics 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfqVlwetWfY 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=keMBtyjYUPQ 

https://genius.com/Starset-perfect-machine-lyrics 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJtBYAKBByk 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nkll0StZJLA 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SaC0YVaIMno

https://genius.com/Starset-ricochet-lyrics

[thetorturerwrites]

Heads I Win/Tails You Lose

Summary: Silly sex games + Adam Sackler = Best date night ever?

A/N: What can I say. I love me some Sackler perversion. This is part of the LC universe for continuity but can be enjoyed as a one-shot.

This is an adult fic. 18+ only. Shameless smut. Enter at your own risk.

Words: 3.7k

“Heads,” he said, cocky and smirking, “No bra, no panties, and those tight pants I love.”

You had been playing this game since your first official ‘date.’ Adam had taken you to an arcade, won you a teddy bear, and flipped a coin for a blow job in the photo booth. 

You still had the pictures.

“Tails,” you countered, knocking your knuckles on the kitchen island pensively, “MY panties and those tight pants I love.  And you draw a heart on your dick.”

He chuckled, spinning the little gold coin around and around on the glossy counter top. You watched him, doing your best to keep a poker face because Adam could read you like a book. He could always tell when you needed a cuddle, a cup of tea, or a quick, hard fuck in the bathroom, any bathroom, the nearest bathroom.

All of which he was happy to supply.

“Deal.”

He flipped the coin high in the air and snapped his palm over it when it landed, inching it out to you so you could look first.  He loved that you wanted to play his games, and he told you that he never wanted you to feel like he cheated, even though you suspected that fucking coin didn’t have a tails side.

You groaned and flipped off the shiny mascot head. Adam slunk around the island to crouch and wrap his arms around your waist, burying his face between your pajama-clad breasts.

“Wait,” you pushed at his shoulder until he looked up, a smirk playing on his plump lips. “Double or nothing?”

He growled into your neck, intrigued, and stood up to fake glower at you, crossing his muscular arms, and pulling a mask of seriousness over his entertained features.

“Heads edging,” you licked your lips, playing out the idea of him leaking rivers as you tormented him, “Tails...uh...over-stim?”

Adam captured your mouth on a heated kiss, sucking at your lower lip and teasing your tongue out to play with his. You slid your arms around his neck to draw him down to your height, bowing his large frame towards you.

“Deal,” he said it against your lips, pushed you a step away, and flipped again.

You wailed, loud and dramatic.

“Fuck that fucking coin.”

“It's gonna be a long night for you, Little Cunt,” he crooned it against your temple, slapped your ass, and walked off.

Post gamble, there had been some argument over the shirt you wanted to wear because Adam wanted something clingy so he could see your bra-less tits bounce and wobble, and you wanted something flowy so nobody else could see that very thing.

Ultimately, you compromised on a light, white tank under a cute, button-up blue flannel that went so well with the dark blue tight pants he wanted.  He bit your fingers when you tried to button the shirt, and you resigned yourself to the fact that you were just going to have to keep closing it to cover yourself.

An hour later, you were on the train to your friend’s house for magic hour. Tossing you a bone, Adam wore the tight pants you loved, and you were absently rubbing the seam at his outer thigh as you leaned back into his chest, lulled into a relaxed state by the routine rumble of the tracks. He drove you absolutely crazy, but he also made you feel safe, the way his body naturally caged and curved around you.

His lips at your ear drew a happy sigh and smile, and you gave a wholly contented coo as he tucked your ass into his pelvis, holding you just there by those large, ever-so-helpful fingers. Wrapped up in him like this was your second-favorite place to be.

He concentrated his kisses on the space just behind and below your earlobe, the one that sent shivers and goosebumps down the length of your spine. His fingers skimmed just under the edge of your shirt, rubbing little circles into your tummy.

“Lemme see,” he nipped at your earlobe.

You harrumphed and glanced around, certain that everybody on the train was watching you, but the car was only half full of readers, people listening to music, phone junkies.  Begrudgingly, you tugged the flaps of your flannel apart, showing Adam the pebbling, straining nipples poking through the thin tank.

He hummed appreciatively against your throat, lifted the low neckline of the fabric, and blew hot breath down against your already flushing skin.

“You have perfect tits, did you know that?”

Tucking his hands into your pockets, Adam rubbed his already hard cock into your ass, hips working slow and steady. Dipping his head down to your ear, he licked at the delicate shell and whispered how hard he was going to fuck you later and what a dirty thing you were to play his wicked games.

Your body loosened and melted.

It was definitely going to be a long night.

~

In the elevator of your friend’s building, he growled a pleased “oh fuck yeah” at the tiny, cramped, closet of a thing, mashed the button to the very top floor, and hoisted you into his arms before the door even closed.

You clung to his neck and waist as Adam pushed you into the wall and kissed you stupid.  His mouth slanted eagerly over yours, licking at your lips until you granted him entry. He greedily swallowed every sound you made, coaxing more saliva, more whimpering with his sliding tongue.

Your thighs clenched around his middle when he bit and tugged at your lower lip hard, and you clawed at his scalp, having carded your fingers into his raven locks to stop them from trembling.

When you were gasping for air and rocking your body against his fervently, he spun around, set you on your feet, and pressed the button for the 3rd floor, sending you back down to the party. You clung to his shirt to re-establish some version of equilibrium, and he nuzzled your neck to help you balance.

~

In the kitchen, after you’d escaped his grabby hands to pour yourself a drink, Adam cornered you against the cabinets to nibble at your mouth again, lifting up to purr into your ear that he liked the way they looked all swollen and pink and he kept thinking about them wrapped around his dick.

You blushed furiously and batted at his shoulder because there was a whole other goddamn person in the room, and he was manhandling you like a touch-starved teenager. He stood across from you, arms folded against his chest, flexing his dick at you in those tight pants until you were alone.

“Fucking Christ, Adam,” you whimpered it as quietly as you could, backed into the counter top again. 

He gave you his best ‘Who? Me?’ look even as he pushed your shirt up over your collarbone. You squeaked and shot up onto your toes as though you could catch your shirt and chase it back into place.

Adam’s large, warm hands blanketed both of your breasts, and you bit your lip, looking up at him helpless and beyond aroused. He squeezed and rolled your stiff nipples, tugging at the sensitive skin until you danced and arched against him. He pushed both of them together and bent down to lick a fat swath up the middle followed by a trail of kisses up your neck and, finally, to your mouth.

Before you could beg him to do something, anything more, voices drew near, and he tugged your shirt back down with an evil wink. He pushed the whiskey into your hand, bent down for another quick kiss, and led you from the room and back into the party.

~

On the patio, where you’d escaped for some cooler air, Adam dragged you into the darkest corner, tucked in between a power box and a drain pipe.

“Are you hiding from me,” he chided, fingers already pushing your flannel apart and raising the paltry white fabric.

You groaned loud at the cold air upon your sore tits and shook your head. He chuckled and pressed his lips to yours to shut you up, murmuring against your mouth that it was ok with him if you had an audience but you better hush if you didn’t want one.

Pushing his knee between your thighs, he pinned you to the wall, dipped his beautiful face down, and licked at your nipple, slow and deliberate.  You tugged at the hair decorating the back of his neck, intending to move him away, but flattened your fingers against his scalp when he sucked the pert peak into the hot cavern of his mouth.

He could almost make you cum from sucking your tits, and he knew it.  Switching from one to the other, he nibbled and teased and mouthed until you were whining and wiggling.

“Shit. Fuck. Adam, don’t…”

But it was too late, he was doing that thing you loved so fucking much where he rolled your nipple between tongue and teeth, sealed his lips tight around it, and let it go with a loud, slurping pop.

There was no way your friends on the patio didn’t hear it, you thought, no fucking way.

~

Thinking you’d surely get a moment’s reprieve, you ducked into the bathroom only for Adam to shove you the rest of the way in and follow before too many could see.

He stripped you of your shirts entirely, bent you over the cold sink, and peeled your jeans down to your knees.

“Is my Little Cunt hungry?”

He clucked it at you, eyeballing the absolute mess you'd made in your pants, and you nodded pitifully, knowing he loved it when you played your part. Adam pushed you up onto your toes, slapped at your bare ass, and buried his face in your cunt.

“Holy shit,” you moaned louder than you intended, but it was just too good.

The cold sink against your inflamed, overworked breasts was heaven.  Adam’s mouth sucking on your puffy, fat pussy lips was heaven. His hands kneading and spreading your ass cheeks was heaven.

Adam himself, however, was the goddamn devil because he plied your thighs and cunt with hungry kisses, fucked your slit nice and deep with his tongue, nipped and nibbled at every square inch.

Except your clit.

“Goddamn, I can see your pussy clenching.” 

He had tucked his thumb into the left labia and was tugging you open, staring directly into the most intimate part of you. It was vulgar and obscene, and you absolutely did it again for him without needing to be told.

“Mm, good girl.”

On a debauched growl, he pressed in again and tongue-fucked you until you shook and your pussy perfumed the air. You panted and whimpered, pushed your ass back against him, and squirmed to try and get him where you wanted.

You were just about to beg when there was a light knock on the door.

~

In the library, Adam pulled you into his lap on the love seat and dropped his hand between your legs. He again instructed you to show him your tender, perpetually hard nipples, and you tugged the tank up just enough that they peeked out.

He nuzzled your jaw, licked at your pulse, and stroked his agile, wide fingers up and down the seam of your pants, from clit to flowing cunt, over and over and over.

You clutched at his shirt and rocked your hips for him, too far gone to lascivious need to give two shits about who might hear you or walk in to see.

“I need to fuck this pretty mouth. Now.”

His voice was low and thick, and you purred at the tone, loving the command and the begging that mingled when he had spent so long turning you on that he was about to cum in his pants.

You slithered off his lap and between his legs, pushing his shirt up to pepper the taut abs with kisses. You wiggled your tongue into his belly button, mimicking the way he’d plunged into your pussy earlier.

“Sweet,” you asked coyly, roving a hungry look up the length of his body, “Or sloppy?”

He groaned and leaned forward to force a kiss on you, canting your head far to one side and fisting his fingers in your hair. You knew it drove him crazy when you said indecent things to him in such nice ways.

His dirty, dirty librarian.

“Filthy girl,” he bit at the corner of your mouth, “You can cry on my cock later. Don’t think your friends would believe I hadn’t hurt you.”

He leaned back into the cushions, popped the button on those tight, tight pants, and wrenched them down his hips enough for his hard, leaking cock to burst out, ready and waiting. Your mouth watered; and when he reached for your head, you knew this was a time-sensitive operation. He was ready to cum, and he wanted your mouth for it.

Pressing your hand into his abdomen to line him up, you licked your lips and wrapped your mouth around the thick column, burying it as far in as you could get it and settling, letting the saliva build and pool and letting your tongue and the back of your mouth get accustomed to being so pressed.

“Fu-huck, I love when you do that,” his throat bobbed, voice strained.

You purred around him, acclimated to the invasion, and pulled all the way back, letting his cock pop free of your mouth so you could gulp in a breath.  Nearly all of his length was shiny now, coated with your spit, and you watched him wrap impatient fingers around the base to squeeze.

"One more time," he rasped it out, "Gimme that hot cunt of a mouth one more time."

It liquefied you to watch him embroiled in such lecherous need and to know that his relentless tormenting had him just as riled up as you.

He reached for your face, cupped your cheek, and tugged you back down to his weeping dick. He wasn’t going to make it much longer, but he was going to be primed and ready to make sure you spent the night riding lightning under him.

Parting your swollen lips, you slid his cock along the length of your flattened tongue and allowed him in as far as you could.  Your fingers splayed across his jumping thighs, and your nose nudged his fingers where they were wrapped tight around the thick base.

“Nnmstaythere,” he was all want and demand now, nearly whining at how close he was.

Adam threaded fingers into your hair, palming your scalp and keeping your flushing face right where he wanted it. His hips bucked upwards, and you moaned at the smutty sound of him fucking your mouth, your heat always kicked up a notch by the profane noises.

“Guh! That’s it, baby; swallow.”

His fingers dug into your neck, and he pushed up hard into you just as you complied, swallowing around him so the roof of your mouth and tongue undulated, working him right past that edge. You hummed your praise, feeling the surge shoot up through his cock just under the skin to flood your eager throat with his hot taste.

You didn’t push at his legs until you felt the last twitch and dribble; and then, you propped yourself up on his thighs and demanded sticky kisses, which you were rewarded with.

“Goddamn you guys,” said a female voice behind you, shooting your eyes wide. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

~

On the train home, you had your blushing face buried so far into Adam’s neck you nearly couldn’t breathe.  He thought the whole thing was hilarious and that you were, in fact, the hottest fucking thing ever, but you were so mortified that you practically sprinted out of the party.

He cajoled you out from your hiding spot by standing up abruptly.  On a yelp, you shot to your feet so that you wouldn’t fall over only for him to tug you back down into his lap without your burning face buried where he couldn’t see it.

“Look, lemme take your mind off of it.”

He dug the gold coin out of his pocket and showed it to you. Your breath caught and you looked from him to it and back again.

“Heads, right now, hard, on this train.” You flushed but nodded, hoping that regardless of where or how, you were going to get fucked and soon. “Tails, nice and sweet, home in bed.”

You very nearly threw the coin out the window because hard and fast right here right now was your preference, truly, but you nodded again and waited for the flip. Even if he edged you all the way home, you would always play his game, reveling in the perversion of it with him.

Holding your breath, you watched the gold glint for a second and then leaned over to peek.

“Thank fucking god,” you grumbled, never so grateful for his bastard, trick coin.

“Double or nothing,” he quipped, and you shot to your feet.

“Adam, if you don’t fuck me in the next two minutes, I am going to find someone else who will. I swear to God.”

Your voice carried, but you truly didn’t care who heard you now.  It hadn’t really registered for you that the train car was empty.  It only mattered that this sex-pot of a man had edged you all night long, and you needed to be fucked. Pronto.

He chuckled darkly and stuffed the coin back into his pocket, spinning you around and bending you slightly forward over the little, brown partition. You hastily fumbled and tore your jeans open, shimmying them down your hips just enough.

When his fingers connected with your sopping, impatient pussy, you moaned in wanton need and pushed back into him, lifting onto your toes and down again to ride his touch. You whimpered, the plea in your voice evident, and you slammed your hand on the window when he stepped behind you, rubbing his hard length between the slick lips.

“This what you want, Little Cunt?”

“Jesusfuckyesplease.”

“When we get arrested,” his breath caught as he pushed into you, “I’m telling them this was your idea. Fuck.”

You nodded, ready to blindly agree with anything he said. You’d agree with the police, too, and then promptly explain that you absolutely just HAD to because he’d been driving you into dick-frenzy all night. 

Gripping the little metal bar, you pushed back against him until he was sunk to the hilt in your clenching core. You bit down on your lip hard because you were already ready to shout his name, to wail and scream for him.

Adam gripped your hip in one hand and slid the other up under your shirt to palm and squeeze your breast. Finally, fucking finally, his hips began to piston forward, slamming you into the seat in front of you, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

Your face, mouth, throat fell into a mantra of yesyesyes as he buried the fat length of his rigid cock into your pliant, slippery cunt again and again. He grunted and dug his fingers into your flesh, and you hissed when his hips moved even harder, even faster.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the subway car, and you lost your fucking mind when you could hear the erotic squish of him pommeling your overflowing pussy.

Your cunt clenched and spasmed, and you keened, face scrunched up in desperation. You were right on the edge of those deep, deep orgasms only he had ever been able to conjure. Your thighs burned, your fingers and toes tingled, and your throat was dry and hoarse from all the whimpering and wailing.

“Adam,” you croaked it out, voice cracked and worn thin, “Baby please.”

He leaned into you, slithering fingers around your neck to hold you back against his chest and dipping his lips to your ear. He murmured into your ear that you should concentrate really hard, think about him sucking on your tits, about him tongue-fucking you in the bathroom, about him burying his face between your legs and lapping at your clit.

You nodded along with every filthy word, picturing all of those things and more, concentrating on your bouncing nipples, the subtle gyration of your throbbing clit, the relentless, expert plunge of Adam’s perfect cock.

Your face smoothed out as the wave crested, your mouth falling open on breathless acceptance. When you were right there, teetering on the edge of the kind of orgasm that would rattle your bones, he slipped his fingers in between the puffy, glistening lips and rubbed tight circles against your clit, fast and demanding.

“That's it. Such a needy, hungry thing. Give it to me.”

Every part of you trembled and sizzled. You’d been wound tight all evening, his wicked game keeping you right there, straddling that line. When you finally came, it was profound and thunderous and a great loosening of every muscle, joint, and nerve.

You couldn’t even shout.

On a low, pornographic moan, you pushed your ass further back into him, and your body gushed a new torrent of hot and wet, the orgasm lighting you up and giving him new convulsions and syrupy slip to play in.

You quaked, fingers gripping the silver bar tight. You held your breath because it seemed like it wasn’t going to stop, and you were so flooded that you felt it sliding down your legs to disappear into your jeans.

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

Gripping your thighs, he pushed your strung out body off of his dick and pressed his forehead into your shoulder.  Somewhere in your mental periphery, you knew it was because he almost came in you for the second time tonight, and he certainly had other plans.

“Shit, babe. Next stop is ours.”

He helped you button your pants and tug down your shirts, kissing your nose and telling you how cute you were when you were cock-drunk. You chuffed a laugh and shrugged.

“What can ya do,” your voice was small, still a bit unsteady.  He grinned and stole another kiss.

“C’mon,” he turned and patted his shoulder, “Hop up or we’re never gonna get out of here.”

Grousing, you stood onto your toes as he crouched and wrapped your arms around his neck.  He tucked his hands beneath your knees and shot to his feet just as the train doors opened. 

And like the absolute gentleman that he is, Adam Sackler carried you home.

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Check Ignition: Sander Schmander

By popular request (*cough* everyone on ao3 and @art3misjade), here is Sander's perspective on events

This segment falls right before Chapter Four of Check Ignition

Sander Driesen was drunk. Honest-to-god, shitfaced drunk. And for the first time in forever, too—he’d laid off the stuff since his treatment plan made it difficult to handle, and since he wanted the meds to actually work. But tonight, he thought, I’ve earned this. Everyone else was drinking. It would be weird if he didn’t participate when his own boyfriend was halfway through his fifth cup of punch.

Fake boyfriend. That was a whole thing.

Now, he lay on the stairs leading upward to the boys’ dormitories. Hopefully those stairs. He didn’t make a habit of visiting the common rooms of other houses, and the layouts tended to differ from one another.

“Sorry,” he croaked to everyone who shimmied their way through. “My bad. Deepest apologies.”

This was why he needed Britt, he thought, to reign in this kind of impulse. Granted, she was the only one who knew about everything else thus far, but he wasn’t going to tell Robbe all that, not when it was already hard enough existing in a magical world with a mundane illness. He wanted to hold onto this last little dream.

Midnight was fast approaching and the bustle downstairs had yet to dispel. Sander tried to move his arms and found them unresponsive. Or rather, he could move them, but it required too much effort to be worth it. He slumped back. More people flooded up the stairs to sleep off whatever terrible concoction was in that punch bowl.

“Robbe has such stupid ideas, I swear,” said Moyo, cresting the staircase. Sander perked up at the sound of Robbe’s name. Probably Moyo. Sander struggled to think through the names of Robbe’s friends—he had them listed in his bedroom for continuity purposes.

He recognized Jens easily enough, because Jens was wherever Robbe was. And Sander watched Robbe a lot. Sander held his breath, as if being quiet could prevent them from seeing him sprawled across their path.

“Shut up,” Jens shot back.

The third boy with them—Alex? Adam?—pitched in, “It’s not Robbe’s fault you don’t get any.”

“He’s throwing away the chance of a lifetime.”

“Shut the fuck up. You sound like an incel.”

“But like, why do they kiss so much? It’s not like you have—” Moyo stopped short as he tripped over Sander’s leg. Despite their somewhat rational conversation, they weren’t any more sober than Sander himself. “Shit, speak of the devil.”

Jens leaned down to Sander’s eye level. “You alright?”

“Never better,” Sander slurred. It came out more like a groan.

Moyo approached to help Jens move Sander from the center of the stairs. They sat him up against the railing on his left side, which was not any more comfortable than the steps digging into his back. Jens was still in full Quidditch uniform (even the chest padding!), Moyo sported a Hufflepuff tie over a t-shirt and jeans, and Adam-or-whoever stood at a quiet distance in a pair of burgundy pajama pants and his Quidditch robes. Sander would have made note to write these in on his list—a good indicator of personality.

Too bad he didn’t have the sense to do so.

“Can’t handle your alcohol, huh?” Moyo asked. He didn’t seem very threatening, though the question was definitely a taunt. Sander’s brain felt like vanilla pudding. Moyo turned to the boys. “Should we wake Robbe?”

“Yes,” said Sander. Oh, hell yes. Robbe. He liked Robbe so much.

The story itself was long and antiquated, a love-at-first-sight kind of deal for Sander. He couldn’t think of one version where he wasn’t the bad guy. He went on a double-date with Britt and her friend, expecting one of Noor’s usual yuppies to show up and bore the whole table with pointless conversation. Then it was Robbe.

Do you ever just see someone, really see them, and—how could he phrase it—know? Or think you know. All things considered, it wasn’t the best sign in terms of his condition.

He had to walk all the way into the next town over to call his psychiatrist, only to realize there wasn’t much to tell her. Hey, I’m infatuated with this guy that my girlfriend’s friend is dating. What should I do? She’d give him some common-sense answer like, Break up with your girlfriend, which he didn’t want to do until he knew what he was feeling would last. So he said, These side effects are nasty, and she reevaluated his dose of Lexapro.

“Let the virgin sleep,” said Moyo.

Sander pitched forward to grab Moyo by the arm. “No, wake him up.”

Because the thing was, time passed, and the feelings didn’t fade. Britt could tell he wasn’t present anymore and said nothing. Maybe she thought it was the Depakote that his psychiatrist added to the cocktail when the antidepressant dangled him on the edge of hypomania. She was a good person. It really wasn’t fair when he told her it was over via owl, and it really wasn’t fair when he seized his opportunity to kiss Robbe in the astronomy tower. The argument in question was not so bad. He conflated it for an excuse to leave her.

“Where’s Robbe?” said Sander. “I have to see him.”

“He’s asleep, downstairs. We gave him a blanket and everything.” Jens passed over his own cup of water. “Drink this.”

“I have to see him,” Sander repeated.

“Yeah, you have to go to sleep. He’s going to be here tomorrow.”

“It won’t be the same tomorrow.”

The whole relationship wasn’t even meant to be a thing. It was a cheap kiss, really, in the astronomy tower. Sander just wanted to know what it would feel like, and he thought it might serve Robbe too, so he did it. Robbe’s appearance the next day was the most unexpected, thrilling twist he could have dreamed of. Except, in a dream, it wouldn’t be fake.

Robbe never missed a chance to restate that it was fake. That wasn’t the best sign, either.

“Aaron, don’t just stand there,” said Jens. “Help me out. Grab his arms, will you?”

“Aaron.” Sander tested out the name. “But you’re Adam!”

“How much have you had?” Aaron grabbed Sander’s arms and lifted. The boys got Sander up two stairs before deciding he was too heavy. They sat him back against the wall.

“Try again,” Jens instructed.

The second try went about as well as the first.

Jens crouched to Sander’s eye level. “Look, is there someone else we can get for you? Or are you cool with sleeping here?” He had to hold Sander’s shoulders in his hands to keep Sander from pitching forward and rolling all the way back downstairs.

“We can’t leave our friend’s boyfriend here!” said Aaron.

“Fake boyfriend,” Moyo added.

Sander groaned. Yes, remind him of that! It was fake! He knew it already! If his psychiatrist could see him now, she’d say—alright, she’d say that he wasn’t allowed to drink on his overly specific medication regimen. But if that weren’t a factor, she’d say some more common-sense things like, “Tell Robbe how you feel. Tell his friends, if you want.”

Fuck, he missed her. He could seek out the phone booth sometime this week and tell her all about it. She loved hearing from him.

“There’s no one,” he slurred. “I’m okay.”

“Fine, there’s us, then,” said Jens. He hefted one of Sander’s arms over his shoulder. “Moyo, take three.”

Moyo took the other arm. They dragged him up the rest of the way, bumping his head on every other stair. He felt like a snow globe in a tourist trap shop, all shaken up, no escape through the glass. Huh. Poetic. Where was Robbe?

“Wake up Robbe,” Sander requested. Jens and Moyo dropped him into the fourth bed in their room. Aaron, Jens, and Robbe lived here; Sander could deduce that from the eclectic assortment of things piled on every available surface. The blankets of the bed in which he lay were already rumpled, implying that someone else had slept here recently. He touched something sticky on the top sheet. Okay, maybe they didn’t sleep.

Jens looked back and forth between Moyo and Sander. “Why?” he asked.

There were plenty of replies Sander could give. We’re fake-dating, and I want it to be convincing.

We’re such good friends, and I want to tell him so.

I think he has my cell phone. Jens might not know what a cell phone was. Sander could never tell with those purebloods.

He and I have plans to smoke weed and throw rocks at pixies in the Forbidden Forest.

Sander said, “I misssssss him,” with the s pulled to the end of the world. Yeah, that would work, too.

“Um, okay,” said Jens. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Then he, Aaron, and Moyo started laughing, although Sander couldn’t tell just what they found so funny. Sander had an alarm on his cell phone to take his medication at eleven PM, since schedule was important to the efficacy of the active ingredients, or whatever it was his psychiatrist said when she adjusted his Lexapro to 15mg. It buzzed in his pocket, but he didn’t have the pills. He was too tired, anyway. It wouldn’t matter if he skipped a dose or two; he’d done worse things than that with lesser consequences.

“You’re going to get Robbe, right?” he asked, and in a moment of clarity, he realized he was a needy boyfriend. He wasn’t a fan of needy Britt. You either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Jens yanked the curtains shut across the fourth bed and bound them with a spell. “You’re drunk, go to sleep. We’ll get Robbe.” The boys began another fit of giggling.

It didn’t bother Sander at all. He stared at the arcing pillars that held up the bedcurtains and hummed a David Bowie song into the darkness. He was young and drunk and in love, and anything could happen. So what if Robbe thought their relationship was fake for now? In a matter of time, it would be real.

[babycracker]

Echoes In The Forest - Chapter 13

Story Rating: explicit Chapter Rating: teen & up Pairing: adam/f!detective (jordan mills) Word Count: ~4k Warnings: none

--

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Felix murmurs quietly, trudging along between Nate and Mason. Jordan and Adam are walking up ahead close by the boy as he continues wandering through the forest.

“You mean you haven’t felt that way since we got here?” Mason scoffs, not bothering to lift his eyes from the ground in front of him.

“Yeah, but worse now,” Felix answers, and Nate places a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It will be alright,” he tries, but somehow Felix doesn’t find himself as reassured as he usually does when Nate attempts to comfort him.

They’d hurriedly packed up their camp and were now following the boy in the hopes that he would lead them to somewhere that may offer some answers about what had happened to him, and where the other kids who’ve gone missing may be. It seems like a long shot to Felix - if the boy is in this state now then it seems unlikely that he would be leading them anywhere important. He very much doubts that the Erlking has any more use for him, if this was even his doing at all.

He glances up at Adam and Jordan, frowning at the way they’re walking as far apart from each other as they can without losing sight of the kid. As if this mission isn’t confusing and stressful enough, now he has those two to worry about as well.

He’d been happy enough to realise that they have feelings for each other, maybe even a little bit excited. Until those feelings started to show themselves and made an absolute mess of things. He’s not sure what’s to become of Unit Bravo if Adam and Jordan can’t sort themselves out. He doesn’t want to lose her, not after all this time. She’s a part of his family now. He can’t lose any more family.

Adam stops suddenly, holding one hand up over his shoulder to signal at the rest of them to follow suit.

“What-” Jordan begins, coming to a halt a few steps ahead of him and grabbing the boy’s arm to stop him from walking. Adam glares at her and holds one finger of his other hand up in her direction, a silent instruction to shut up and Felix almost winces at the death glare that she gives him.

Until he hears what Adam has obviously heard and snaps his attention towards the woods to the side of them, concerns about Jordan’s position within the unit now temporarily forgotten.

“I can’t hear anything,” he vaguely hears Mason whisper beside him, and the wave of panic that hits him over the simple statement is bigger than he would have expected. It really is going to be up to him. He’s slightly comforted by the fact that Adam at least can hear what Felix can see, but it’s hardly the help he hoped he would have after Adam had fed from Jordan.

A loud rustling sound from behind them has both him and Adam spinning around and Felix takes a couple of steps towards the noise, peering into the bushes.

“Felix…” Nate warns, and there are footsteps behind him before Adam’s hand lands on his shoulder.

“Do not run off again.”

“He’s following us,” he looks up at the team leader who just nods in reply, an uncharacteristic amount of concern written all over his face. It’s amplified as he looks back towards Jordan for a moment, who appears positively terrified.

“We have to keep moving,” Adam announces distractedly, making his way over to Jordan and Felix can’t help but notice that he’s walking significantly closer, despite the eye roll she gives him for his efforts.

He loves her, but can’t she put her grudge on hold for just a little while when there are more important things going on?

--

“I need to speak with you once this is dealt with,” Adam blurts out after one of the longest silences ever to take place between them, and Jordan frowns up at him.

He has some nerve, she’ll give him that. To treat her the way he has been and then demand to talk to her while they’re in the middle of something which quite frankly terrifies her. It’s alright for him, she supposes. He’s not the one this thing is after.

“You think I really care what you need?” she mutters in response, noticing the annoyed look he gives her despite the fact that she’s already turned away from him.

“You should. For all of our sakes.”

She can’t help but roll her eyes again at the typical Adam response. Of course he’s going to turn this into something about Unit Bravo as a whole. She understands that it very much affects all of them, but just for once she’d like him to be straightforward with her, she’d like him to acknowledge that this is a him and her problem and it needs to be handled between him and her.

She sighs and doesn’t bother answering him, and he seems to either take it as agreement or as a sign that he shouldn’t push it right now. Either way she’s more than happy to not speak with him for the rest of the afternoon. For the rest of the mission, if possible. They have more important things to deal with.

He glances up at the trees and the significantly smaller amount of light filtering through them after a while and stops again, glancing at her with uncertainty before turning to face Nate, Felix and Mason.

“It’s going to be dark soon. We should stop.”

“And what do you suggest we do with him overnight?” Jordan asks before anyone else can say anything, gesturing down at the boy. “Tie him up?”

Adam actually seems to be considering it for a moment and Jordan’s eyes widen in horror at the thought that he would actually tie a child up like a dog for the night.

“Are you serious? I was being sarcastic.”

“It’s a valid point, though. We can’t let him wander off,” Mason points out, and both Jordan and Nate glare at him.

“We’re close anyway. We probably don’t need him, actually,” Felix points out before an argument can ensue, and Jordan notices his unease for the first time. Too caught up with bloody Adam to have seen it earlier.

He’s bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, eyes darting nervously around them and his hands fidgeting at his sides. The sight of him makes her all the more nervous, and suddenly walking through the woods at night with four vampires and a near comatose child seems like the less creepy option.

Adam’s right though, as much as she hates to admit it. She’s exhausted and she needs a break or she’s not going to be of any use to anyone.

“So we’re supposed to just let him go?” she protests despite all of that, the idea of letting this little boy wander around on his own in the dead of night not quite sitting right with her.

“Yes,” Adam answers simply, looking at her as though he doesn’t understand her hesitance.

“I don’t think he’s in there anymore,” Nate reasons carefully, and she shakes her head slightly before looking down at the boy.

He’s right and she knows it. His face is completely void of expression, his clouded eyes staring at nothing in particular. He seems to be barely even breathing, and even aside from all that she’s fairly certain that he wouldn’t physically survive the trip back out of the woods anyway.

“Fine,” she snaps, dropping the boy’s arm and turning away from him. There might be nothing left of who the boy once was but she still doesn’t like the idea of watching him walk away from them.

Nate moves to wrap her up in a tight hug, and it takes her a moment but eventually she winds her arms around his waist and returns the gesture. She’s feeling only slightly better about the situation when Nate pulls back suddenly and looks questioningly at Adam, who has come to stand beside them.

“I need a moment with the Detective.”

“I don’t think now is the time…” Nate trails off when the expression on Adam’s face makes it clear that he’s not going to back down this time, and Jordan looks between the two of them wearily.

“Do I get a say?”

“No,” Adam replies, taking a gentle but firm hold of her arm and leading her away, calling over his shoulder to the rest of Unit Bravo, “set the camp up.”

--

Adam’s not stupid, it’s not the right time and he knows it. But his conversation with Mason has been eating at him all day, and he feels that he may explode if he doesn’t get it off of his chest.

He’s a few steps ahead of her, but he can hear her stomping along behind him, deliberately making it obvious to him that she’s not happy as though she thinks it’s going to sway his decision to talk to her. If he’s honest, he is almost tempted to let it be for now but he knows that this up in the air, disastrous tension hanging between them is going to be nothing more than a distraction for the both of them, and neither of them can afford that right now.

“What do you want?”

It isn’t until she speaks and breaks him out of his own thoughts and hesitations that he realises she’s stopped walking, and he turns to find her with her arms crossed over her chest and glaring at him.

“I want to speak with you about yesterday,” he begins and then draws a blank with how to proceed from there.

“Didn’t we do that already? You said I was going crazy, remember?”

“No. I said that your mental state may have been temporarily, but negatively impacted,” he corrects, falling silent when she just stares at him with one eyebrow arched.

“I’ve been made aware of the possibility that I may have…” he pauses, trying to squash down the sudden panic that rises in his chest to be able to finish his sentence, “unintentionally exposed you to certain things.”

“Certain things such as?”

He clears his throat slightly and finds himself averting his gaze, looking everywhere but at her so as to avoid seeing her reaction to finding out that what she’s been feeling actually comes from him.

“Certain emotions.”

He waits for it. Waits for her to press him on which emotions he means. Waits for the disgust, the horror, or the mocking. When none of it comes he looks back up at her and she’s frowning at him, in what looks to be concern.

She opens her mouth to speak, but snaps it shut again when she can’t seem to be able to get the words out and just gives him a small nod in response.

“I can assure you that it was not my intention to do so.”

“So what am I supposed to do about it?”

There’s a question he’s not sure that he knows the answer to. He doesn’t know how deeply she feels the things she’s feeling, he doesn’t know if just ignoring them is a possibility.

“There is nothing you can do. They will fade in time if you don’t dwell on them.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t want them in here?” she pauses and taps the side of her head. “You don’t want me knowing that you feel these things?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you.”

“Bit late, Adam.”

She is impossible. How difficult can it be for her to just go about her life as though they were not there? They’re not even her emotions, she has no idea of where they’ve come from, she’s no need to fixate on them or even acknowledge their existence.

“I need you to do this,” the words come out slightly more desperate than he’d intended, sounding more like a plea than a command and her expressions softens just a little. Not enough to reassure him that she will do her best to ignore the parts of him that he’d unwillingly forced on her, though.

“Why?”

“You have your own emotions to worry about, without needing to focus on mine,” he arches a brow pointedly at her, trying to give her the hint that he can feel as much of her as she can of him, probably more.

Realisation dawns on her face as she clicks on to what he’s said, but to his surprise her frown deepens and she takes a step closer to him. “And is that what you’re doing? Just ignoring them and pretending they don’t exist?”

“Yes.” There is no right answer to such a question, so he refuses to feel any guilt whatsoever at the way her face falls a little at his answer. At least he tries not to feel any guilt, but he knows it’s there, creeping through his gut despite his best attempts to ignore it.

“Just when I thought you were already as big of a jackass as you could get,” she mutters, her focus falling down to the ground for a split second before she glares back up at him.

They don’t have time for this. He wouldn’t have time for it in the best of circumstances let alone with all that is going on already.

“Just deal with it so that we can get back to normal,” he snaps, a little harsher than he means to, his impatience peeking through just a little more than is probably necessary.

“No,” she begins, taking a deep breath and standing a little straighter, “no, you wanted to talk and I let you talk, so now it’s my turn. I think you’re afraid of me finding out how you feel.”

He rolls his eyes and lets out a huff, turning to walk away from her and back towards the new camp site. “That’s preposterous.”

“Hey! Don’t walk away from me,” she’s behind him in an instant, grabbing at his arm to slow him down and then stepping in front of him to prevent him from going anywhere.

“I think you’re afraid that I feel the same,” she continues, letting go of his arm when he glances down at her hand and he falters, unsure how to react to her outright accusation.

“I- we don’t have time for this right now, Detective.”

“I think that’s why you don’t use my name.”

“Jordan,” his voice hitches just a little - not little enough for her to miss it though - when he attempts to prove her wrong, trying to ignore the annoyance bubbling up inside of him at being put on the spot like this.

“I think that’s why you didn’t want it to be you yesterday, I think that’s why you had a problem with me and Mason, and I think that’s why you always look as though it legitimately causes you pain to be close to me.”

She crosses her arms over her chest again and watches him expectantly, clearly ready for an argument and waiting for him to disagree or lose his cool. So, he does neither. She might be looking for a fight but he most certainly is not, so he sidesteps his way around her and tries to leave again.

“I’m talking to you! You can’t just walk away from me in the middle of this,” she grabs his arm again, annoyingly persistent and defiant, and this time he roughly pulls it away, whirling back around to face her.

“I can, and I intend to.”

“Why are you always such a jerk to me?” she steps closer again, the proximity making him incredibly uncomfortable and starting to anger him all at once as he realises it’s unlikely that he’s going to get out of this situation without at least some kind of an argument.

"Because you-" he begins to reply, feeling himself grow angrier by the second as he finds himself at a loss for words once again.

"Me what?" she fires back stubbornly, holding his gaze, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

"-are insufferable." He finally finishes. It’s as good an answer as any, and is certainly better than telling her that he needs to act that way towards her so as not to become too attached.

"Fine," She throws her hands into the air suddenly and moves to walk past him, deliberately hitting his bicep with her shoulder on the way.

"I won't make you suffer me anymore. I quit," she grumbles under her breath, but he hears her and his arm shoots out now to grab hers and he pulls her back closer to him, a little more roughly than he'd meant to.

"You what?" he asks, his eyes piercing into hers unforgivingly.

"I. Quit."

"You cannot."

"Try and stop me."

His grip on her arm tightens as she tries to walk away from him again, and now she is the one to glare down at his hand before arching an eyebrow at him.

"You cannot," he repeats. His stomach tightens up with worry. No, not worry. Fear. His eyes widen slightly at the epiphany. He is afraid to lose her. He's afraid of the part of her that he still feels within himself being the only part he gets. He's afraid of the possibility of never being able to look at her again or be near to her again, never being able to watch her laughing with Felix again.

His face twists into a frown. He is just as afraid of what the fear might mean as he is of the fear itself. He is afraid of how remarkably easy it has been for Jordan to ignite those feelings within him, after no other has succeeded in… well, he can't even remember how long. She's still glaring at him, though her expression has softened, as though she can sense the battle raging inside of him. It irritates him even further, the way this woman pities him.

"Tell me why not." Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the way it pierces the heavy silence surrounding them hurts his ears. The hand not holding onto her twitches at his side before he lifts his arm, the backs of his knuckles just grazing her cheek before he quickly pulls it back and releases her.

"I-"

"Apologise?" she cuts him off, and he falters at the interruption and takes a slight step back.

"Yes."

"No." She steps towards him again despite his attempt to get away from her.

"No?" he asks faintly. Her heart is racing, she's riled up and her body heat is almost scorching. He takes another step away to distance himself before he is overwhelmed but she steps with him, the gap between them remaining virtually non-existent.

"No. I don't accept your apology. Not this time."

He's lost for words, racking his brain for a response. She continues talking before he can articulate his thoughts.

"I don't accept that you feel sorry for feeling something for me. As though it's a bad thing."

"I- do not feel anything for you. You are a member of my unit, that's all. I feel for you as I feel for my other agents."

"Lying."

"And if I did, it would indeed be less than ideal," he continues, deliberately ignoring her rebuttal.

"Why?"

He sighs in exasperation and looks away from her, his gaze shifting up to the high tops of the trees as though he believes that if he looks away from her for long enough she'll disappear. Unfortunately it doesn't work and she's still staring at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

"Why is of no consequence," he answers and she finally looks away from him to roll her eyes.

"You are such an asshole."

Something snaps inside of him, finally growing tired of biting back his own opinion while she constantly throws her own in his face.

"And you, you are the most stubborn, most unwarrantedly self assured, most irritating, most relentlessly persistent human I have ever met."

"And you are the most arrogant man I've ever met."

"Then why must you persevere in trying to drag emotions of which you are not certain out of me?"

"Because I am certain of them!" She's yelling at him now, loud enough for him to be able to hear the rustling of disturbed birds taking flight from the branches they’ve settled on for the night above them. Her eyes burn into him, her heartbeat almost deafening. She inches closer to him and he tenses, his fingertips seem to burn and itch with a need to touch her but his hands remain by his side.

"You are certain of them too, I know you are. You might not be certain of what to do about them, but you're certain they're there."

He glares down at her, his body tense and the beat of his own heart matching hers. She stands before him, still inappropriately close, her head tilted back a little to be able to hold his gaze, eyes wild and face twisted in frustration.

She opens her mouth to speak again, but Adam has had enough. He doesn't want to hear anymore, he doesn't want to hear the words out loud in case they ring as true as he fears they will.

"Detective-" he tries to cut her off but she shakes her head angrily.

"No, you're going to-"

"Detective Mills!"

"Agent Du Mortain, you will listen-"

Before she can finish her sentence, before he even knows himself what he's doing, his hands are on her hips, pulling her flush against him and he's ducked his head down to press his lips against hers, swallowing whatever she was about to say.

Her body is almost as stiff as his, and his still open eyes search hers, waiting for some kind of reaction. Her hands fly up to either side of his face and he watches her eyes close. He's kissing her. And after a moment she's kissing him back. Why is he kissing her? He feels her tongue tracing his lower lip and jerks his head away from her, though his hands remain on her hips.

They stare at each other in shock, in anger, in something else that Adam's not willing to acknowledge before Jordan lifts onto her tiptoes to reach his lips with hers again. He reciprocates almost immediately, as though it's an automatic response, and his grip on her hips tightens.

This time he allows her tongue to slip into his mouth, a small groan escaping him when the taste of her hits him and all at once it's too much. She's too close, pressed against him too hard. She feels too good in his hands, tastes too good in his mouth, and his mind is becoming far more clouded with thoughts of her than he is happy with.

He pulls away again, straightening up to his full height and jerking his hands off of her hips as hers fall from his face and hang loosely at her sides.

"Adam-"

"It’s dark. We should be getting back to the others,” he cuts her off before she can say anymore, his gaze lingering on her for a split second before he turns and walks away from her.

He hears only silence behind him and resists the urge to turn and ensure that she is alright, but breathes a small sigh of relief when he hears her slowly but surely start to follow him back.

Well. That did not go at all according to plan.

--

tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @oxjenayxo @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @kelseaaa @ambrosykim @amlovelies @forestcreatures @maraudern05 @kat-tia801 @alyssalauren @vintage-vamp @adamdumorpain @zevorah

[kryptored]

Blue boy feeling blue (needs to have kisses to chase the blues away)

I swear I'm gonna update and post the second chapter of my LK exchange fic, but I just had to get this out of my system after seeing THIS art by @sidsinning.

AO3

He wakes up with his head feeling heavy; as if someone had stuffed his skull with cotton to replace his brain. He tries to move, but as soon as he does, he sees the world tilt and turn and swivel all around –

“Maaaa! Ju-” a cough interrupts his shout, before continuing his call with a weaker and strained voice, “J-juleka?”

It takes about 5 seconds for him to hear the thundering footsteps of his family getting closer, and a few more before their concerned faces appear.

“We heard you yelling like a scared pup; what’s wrong?” Anarka approaches her son, who’s in–between struggling to sit up and trying not to throw up, and combs through the mess called his hair. “You alright, son? You’re looking a bit *peely wally right now.”

“He’s kind of burning up, Ma.” Juleka says, her hand resting on her brother’s forehead. Luka is a little surprised to not have noticed her do that, but then again, he’s feeling too out of it to even know what’s happening to him.

“Wha…I feel awful. W-why…?”

“Tsk, you were out in the *baltic weather while drenched like a drowning cat for too long, is why and what happened!” Anarka tightens her grip on Luka’s clump of black and blue hair, but not enough to have him flinch and only to serve as a warning.

“I should’ve known that big brothers could be this stupid, especially when around – “Luka swipes at her with his weak arm, interrupting Juleka with her lecture. She effortlessly avoids getting hit, even if she knows her brother doesn’t have enough strength to make his point, and laughs at him.

“That’s what you get, really. Sometimes I hate when my stubbornness shines through one or the both of you. You should’ve stayed at the Dupain-Chengs for a while to dry and warm up like you were asked to, instead of walking back home like soaked to the bone.”

“Maaaaa…”

“Don’t ‘Ma’ me, Luka! You should see yourself right now. Even your girl was adamant on giving you a sweater she made for you, or so your sister heard. I didn’t peg you for the daft type.”

“S’was ‘posed t’be… her surprise.” Unable to stay sitting up, Luka gives in to gravity and falls back into bed,. The drop has him feeling queasier than when he woke up. “She shu’nt have.”

“Listen to yourself.” His mother shakes her head in disappointment, unbelieving at how her son is acting. And to think he was the responsible one out of the three of them. Just as her mouth opens to lecture him some more, she sees her daughter with her phone out. “Juleka, what’re you doing?”

“I’m recording him; this doesn’t happen much. I’m taking as much blackmail material as possible.”

“Your brother is sick. Your own blood.”

“Just let me have this, Ma. Besides, he’s going to need proof of what happens when he starts acting reckless.”

“Fine, but could you at least fetch him a glass of water and some medicine? Your brother’s throat is probably as dry as a desert.”

“Yeah, sure.”

As Juleka goes to find what’s needed, Anarka turns back to her son, who’s miserably trying to will away his sickness by tightly closing his eyes and clenching his fists against his blanket. She reaches out to his hands one by one and gently pries his fingers off the fabric, and massages the lines on his forehead away.

“There, there. You’ll get through this; I know you will.” She turns back to Juleka, back from the kitchen, and takes the glass of water medicine from her. “You’re a Couffaine, after all. Now drink this and go back to sleep. I’ll make some soup for you to eat when you wake up.”

“Too sick… eat.” Luka manages to say after washing the pill down his throat. He’s never felt so thirsty until now, evident from how he finishes the entire glass. “Don’ wanna.”

“You’ll be saying otherwise when you wake up and your stomach’s trying to imitate a whale mating call, dummy.”

Oh, whatever happened to his sweet little sister? Those are his last thoughts before he succumbs to the heaviness of his lids.

He wakes up feeling warm, and not the comfortable kind of warm. The moment Luka’s eyes blink awake, he tries not to move his head too much in fear of witnessing the world go round and round and round and –

“Oh, you’re awake.”

He turns his head slowly towards the doorway and sees his sister leaning on the side.

“How’re you feeling?” The slight scrunch of her brows lets him know just how worried she is.

“Uh…” he starts to get up, thankful that he doesn’t feel like his whole body is spinning out of control, and puts a hand against his stomach. Soon enough, he feels the rumble before he hears it. “M’hungry.”

He chooses to ignore the smirk Juleka gives him.

“Why don’t you take a shower? Make sure you wear something dry and warm right after, okay? I’ll heat up the soup up for you while you’re at it.”

After Juleka leaves, Luka sluggishly gets up from bed, skipping to make his bed while silently promising to do it later (when he’s all better). As he struggles to walk forward, he feels his shirt sticking to his skin. The disgusting feeling of his sweat acting as glue between his shirt and skin has him walking a little faster to the washroom, picking up a recently washed towel from the cabinet.

It takes him about 20 minutes to shower, and about 5 minutes and counting trying to find something to wear. So far, all he’s succeeded in is choosing some light blue pyjama bottoms. The sight of him standing shirtless with his towel resting on his shoulder, his back facing the doorway, is how Juleka finds him.

“What’re you doing standing around shirtless for? Are you seriously trying to make yourself even sicker?”

She approaches him to whack him on the shoulder, albeit softer than she normally would as an act of mercy.

“M’trying to find something warm to wear, but I can’t choose.”

“You could wear the sweater I made for you, if you want.”

The sound of Marinette’s voice jolts Luka awake, turning around too quick for his liking. Pushing back the nausea from his sudden movement, he takes in the sight of the girl standing outside his room, a small bag on hand.

“Oh yeah, I was gonna tell you that Marinette came by while you were in the shower.” Said girl approaches them as she rummages inside the bag she carries. “She also brought you some noodles and stuff.”

“Mhm. I put the noodles in the chicken soup your mom made. Better put this on before you get cold.” She hands him something thick and blue, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that it’s the same sweater she intended to surprise him with. The same sweater she offered him yesterday, before he woke up feeling like death warmed over him.

“I’m not taking any arguments right now so, wear this sweater and get your stubborn Couffaine ass into the kitchen.”

“I’ll change the bedding; you guys go ahead when you’re done.” Juleka offers, her hands already busy with throwing out Luka’s blanket onto the laundry basket. “With how much sweating you did, your bed’s probably gone *scabby and *howlin.”

Muttering his arguments to the two girls, Luka wears his sweater and attempts to tame his hair. He stops when Marinette takes hold of his wrists and pulls him out the room.

“Don’t bother with your hair, I can fix it for you while you’re eating.” She looks back at the boy she’s dragging to the kitchen. “Did you drink some water since you woke up?”

“Yeah. After shower.”

“Mm…that’s good.”

Marinette pushes him down the seat by the counter and sets the bowl of soup in front of him.

“Here you go.” She takes the glass of water that Anarka passes to her. “I’m just going to fetch the bag from your room. Don’t do anything rash; your mom has her eyes on you right now.”

“You’re looking a lot better now, Luke. Did you have a good sleep?”

“Uhuh…” He shoves a spoonful of the broth to his mouth, thankful that it’s not too hot that it burns him, and he hums in satisfaction as it goes down his throat. “Feel lil’ better.”

“That’s good.”

Their conversation is put to a halt when Marinette returns with her bag, her arm reaching inside of it.

“I brought you a care package, even though you brought this onto yourself.”

Luka grunts in retaliation, but finds it useless him and continues to enjoy his soup. His eyes follow Marinette’s arms whenever she puts something on the counter beside him.

“Here are some chicken and rice soup, and it’s got green chiles and ginger. I wasn’t sure if your mom – ”

“For the hundredth time; call me Anarka, dear.”

“ – Anarka, made you some soup and what kind so, I brought it into a single serving container. If any of you want some, I can always come by and bring you some more. You all know how my Maman is. Also, I have tea, some socks, a scarf, crackers, bananas, and I even made some applesauce!”

She excitedly brings the small jar of applesauce by her cheeks, and it suddenly hits Luka how worried he must’ve made the people precious to him. As he lets this sink in, his brows pinch themselves together and the skin on forehead wrinkles. He slowly drops the spoon down the bowl, shoulders dropping, and the corners of his mouth turned down.

“It’s a good thing it’s the weekend,” Marinette combs her fingers through his unruly hair, “or I wouldn’t have enough time to – oh, no! What’s wrong?”

Luka’s eyes look up to Marinette, who’s suddenly moved closer to him and looks him in the eyes.

“What’s wrong, Luka?” His mother asks, leaning a little closer from her seat in front of him, “Are you feeling something else? Is it coming back?”

“No, no. I-It’s nothing, I just… I’m sorry for worrying all of you.” He makes a face, and it’s not the one that they like to see at all. “I’m sorry for not listening and acting like a *roaster.”

Sitting by the counter, with his large, blue sweater hanging off of his shoulders lopsidedly, his hair still in need of more grooming, and pale. Luka has never felt and looked so small until now.

Unable to stand the sight of him feeling so vulnerable, Marinette cups his cheek kisses him soundly on the cheek. This takes him by surprise, as he doesn’t move nor say anything for a short while. Marinette can only giggle at the sight of an unresponsive Luka, while Anarka chuckles at what has transpired.

“You don’t have to feel bad about it, Luka. We’re just glad that you’re okay now. But promise me next time that you don’t go out in the chilly streets of Paris, with nothing but a light jacket on to keep you warm, and soaking wet.”

“Best listen to your girl, Luka. She knows what she’s doing; a definite keeper.”

He smiles at their words and blushes hard. He doesn’t bother hiding the flush on his face and continues eating his soup, and Juleka finally comes out of their bedroom and calls out to him.

“Have you finally knocked some sense into him, Marinette?”

“Yeah, I think I have.”

“Think he’s contagious, Ma?”

“He’s feeling better now so, I don’t think so.”

“Great, that means I can do – ” Juleka wraps her arms around her brother from behind, careful to not jostle him so much and spill the soup, “  – this!”

Luka doesn’t say anything, still, but pats at his sister’s arms as he enjoys his soup.

“Ooh! I wanna join in, too!” Marinette says, before hugging him from the side while trying to make sure he can still move his arms.

“Don’t forget about the captain of this boat!” He doesn’t feel his mother touch him, but knows that she’s hugging Marinette and Juleka from the sudden gain of weight on his back and side.

“Oh! Are we doing a group hug? Let me join, too!” he recognizes the voice as Rose’s, which is coming from the door, and his smile stretches wider even with the spoon stuck in his mouth.

This is what home feels like, and he loves it.

Scottish slangs marked with [*]:

Peely Wally - looking unwell, pale.

Baltic - freezing cold.

Scabby - dirty.

Howlin - smelly.

Roaster - idiot.

[thechildofstark]

Fuck John Walker (and also some other stuff): A Response To Episode Four

WARNING: some bad language, death mentions, violence mentions, blood mentions, racism, spoilers for for ep 4 of tfatws 

DISCLAMER: I have some Opinions about various characters. These do not extend to the actors, who I’m sure are lovely and should be treated with the dignity, privacy and respect that they deserve. 

“Fuck John Walker” was originally meant to be the subtitle. I decided on it when he screwed up the op for Sam. It got ungraded during the final scene, because nothing else could possibly compare as a necessary title to this post. 

Essentially, some (out of order) thoughts on episode 4:

~*Sam and Bucky, working together*~ (pretend this is a musical jingle)

The contrasting ways that they interacted with the displaced

While the incredibly valid argument can be made that Sam is the least privileged of the group (I’ve made it) it is obvious that he has had the most structured civilian life: approaching the people he comes across openly. Yes, he is polite and calm, but the closest thing to this he has personally come across in the past (that we know of) would be the war vets he worked with and the critical difference is that they wanted to be there. From what I remember of Sam’s groups they didn’t seem to be a sort of mandatory requirement: you came because you chose to. Or at least, you came prepared for the situation. Here, Sam is an outsider and an unwelcome threat. These people are not going to open up to him. 

Bucky is quieter, but still quite straight forward in the way he presents himself. I think he may show a little more care for the environment he is in than Sam but that isn’t saying much. Yes, he has experienced much worse things than Sam but we still see his unfamiliarity with this sort of situation paired with some less than stellar social skills really not working in his favor. 

Look, I love both these 2 to death. But this is not what they know. 

Zemo on the other hand quite likely lived in a place similar to this after his family was murdered. He shows an understanding of how this sort of situation would work, going to children who:

a) wont necessarily peg him as an outsider

b) are bribable

also I think he was genuinely super glad to give those kids that candy and money. He would have been such a good dad. now I have Zemo feels. somebody help me.

The inclusion of the Dora Milaje was incredibly awesome, and not just because I simp for powerful women. Narratively, this was the perfect place for them to join the party and assert their right to apprehend Zemo. 

Bucky speaking Xhosa (i think it was?) is very cool

 I would like to take this moment to formally state that Caption John Walker is a motherfucking asshole. 

It was also really nice to see Sam’s therapist skills, that worked against him earlier really help him here. 

I liked seeing that more human side of Karli, and having her interact with the “enemy” and have serious conversation about what everyone is doing.

Until Captain Insecurity has to destroy the op because he doesn’t trust the people he chose to work with, no one has comms or anything I guess?

Also Walker deferring to Bucky for team decisions over Sam, talking over Sam and acting like he knows better than Sam?

I smell racism in this Chili’s tonight

It was also really interesting to get a more in-depth look at how Zemo views supersoldiers. Nearly all the ones that he has either heard of or interacted with (destroyed) had either volunteered for the serum or were so brainwashed that it didn’t make a difference. These people are a dangerous enemy to be eliminated, alongside people like Dr. Nagel. His entire worldview is focused on their destruction that the idea that one of them could be a normal person is impossible to him. The only exceptions acknowledged are Steve (paragon of saintly virtue) and Bucky. 

And the fact that after his family died and his country devastated he would most likely have fixated on both the Avengers and the “concept” of a superhuman being as something to blame for his loss. His refusal to concede his position to Sam isn’t just arrogance, although that seems to be a part of it, but the fact that he has spent so much time and energy in destroying both the Winter Soldier program and most likely other similar operations, along with the Avengers that this hatred and belief in the danger has most likely become one of his core beliefs. To change this would be to question his vendetta against the Avengers, to question his actions against the Winter Soldier program which he knows was a horrible thing, and to question why he has spent the past seven years in maximum security prison. This isn’t something he is ready to do yet.  

The fact that Bucky is a noted exception is something that stands out to me. Zemo knows that Bucky is a good person, regardless of the serum. 

Bucky is also the only main character (that I can think of) that was injected with the serum against his will. The fact that he didn’t seek it out could quite likely be part of the reason that Zemo doesn’t look down on him for it - it is framed that the sort of person that seeks out that sort of strength/power would be a “supremacist”, someone who would use their abilities to harm and subjugate others.

And while we are at the apartment may I say how funny it is to see Zemo just. Literally being Sam and Bucky’s sugar daddy. He transports them and houses them and makes them fancy tea. It’s possible he’s providing them with clothes. Either way, love it. Cannot wait for the boys to work it out.

Sam and Lemar’s responses to being offered the serum are an interesting juxtaposition to how they view the concept of supersoldiers. They have both experienced hardship and survived war but Sam is the one that has gone up against Gods and monsters and he wants none of that, thank you. 

And Lemar is so comfortable with saying yes because it isn’t actually being offered to him. Walker expresses some hesitation in their discussion because for him, it isn’t hypothetical. This is something real that can and will effect him for the rest of his life and he wants to make the “right decision”.

The return of Erskine’s belief that the serum not only effect the physical but the mental, emotional and (possibly?) spiritual. This isn’t something that’s really been touched on outside of The First Avenger and I liked that it turned up here. But the fact that it was the reason Walker felt comfortable taking the serum? Eww

The Dora Milaje kicking names and taking ass is super awesome. They are so incredibly skilled and have such amazing teamwork and are also super beautiful I love them 

Sam and Bucky just. Watching. Enjoying the show. Absolute kings. 

Zemo being the sneaky little sneak that he is :)

One one hand, Bucky losing his arm in the fight was very awesome. One the other hand, he has a long history of complicated bodily autonomy in relation to that arm so........  Neutral opinion it is then 

Karli, honey, I really want to like you but can you please keep the mans family out of it. Okay?

And another thing that this show made me think about: kids left to fend for themselves after the Blip (uuuurrrggh it hate calling it that. stupid canonical name). I think it’s good that at least some people took it on themselves to take these children in, to give them good lives and families.

The way that Sam has incorporated his wings into his combat style is very cool

Okie dokie can’t avoid it forever lets get this over with. 

LEMAR MY BEAUTIFUL SON NOOOO

those fuckers (the writers i mean)

Side note: did they really have to make the first main character death of the series a Black “sidekick” character? No. No they did not. 

Side side note: I understand that this is a perfectly valid way (ew) to “advance the plot” but I can and will be annoyed about it

And now we really get into the shit. But...........................

As much as I absolutely unequivocally hate John Walker I actually like the thematic parallels of how they did this. All throughout The First Avenger Steve is adamant on how he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, he just wants to stand up to the bullies. It’s only after Bucky dies that he says he wants to kill all the Nazis and really get into the horror of it all. The fact that John, who has absolutely been on the edge for the entire episode if not longer, only loses it after Lemar dies?

Because Lemar is arguably meant to be that stand-in for Bucky in the eyes of the public, and they are obviously close friends..........

Just - 

I feel I may have accidentally been slightly nicer than I planned to Walker in this post. I’m not sure how I feel about that. 

But C****** J*** W****** is NOT Captain America. Up until now I’ve been calling him “Fake Cap” in my head and to my family, but he doesn’t even deserve that honor. 

And the blood on the Shield. Dear god that was horrible. 

And the fact that, as it was pointed out in this very episode, this man fully represents everything that is Captain America, to the world. He isn’t only tarnishing his own legacy, he is also destroying Steve’s. And to some extent, Bucky’s. The whole reason that Bucky Barnes is considered a “Superhero” is because, at least in America he is known as “Cap’s Best Friend”. He was marketed that way for over half a century, and after the whole “Winter Solder” thing, goodwill or no, brainwashing or no, this could end very ugly for him. Not to mention that Steve Rogers is most likely to be forgotten to history in favor of this freak. 

And on that note, where the fuck is Steve? This is set only 6 months after Endgame, if he had died we would know. So what the hell is he doing? Because I know he got perpetual brainrot going back in time to be str8 and boring but dear god if the show tries to tell me that he’s just chilling in some senior’s center in Alaska I will actually call bullshit. Steve Rogers would never. Okay this is a whole separate post on my thought on Steve. Watch this space I guess. 

And while we’re all here, Bucky Barnes needs a goddamn boyfriend. I’ve done some thinking, and here is a compiled shortlist: 

Sam

Zemo

De-aged Steve (he would be higher but I’m still mad at him for the whole “vanishing without a word to relive Jim Crow and the Lavender Scare. :/ )

IN THAT ORDER. 

That’s all folks. 

Feel free to send me asks if you want clarification or extra details on anything. 

And finally - 

the thing we all came to see:

FUCK

JOHN 

WALKER

fin

[infinitefandomimagines]

Consequences - Harry Bingham x reader

WARNINGS: ANGST, LANGUAGE, CRYING, 

REQUEST: Hiiii, I saw that you were taking The Society requests and I was curious to know if I could submit a request for the reader being with Harry and finding out about Harry, Campbell and Lexie’s scheme with Allie and Will and being super conflicted. If possible could it be super angsty? I love your work so much, thank you for taking the time to read this even if you don’t decide to write it. Love ya xo

+

Hello!! Love your work, can I please request a Harry Bingham angst imagine?

-

You weren't supposed to find out, that much was obvious. The shock on Harry's face the second you confronted him in his room told you he didn't plan on telling you, and the disappointment on your face told him how screwed he really was.

"So what exactly was your plan, huh? Keep me in the dark forever, or just until you and Lexie were the new rulers of New Ham?" Venom dripped from each word as you tried to mask just how truly hurt you were, how betrayed you felt.

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but as far as you were concerned those questions were rhetorical, you weren't finished saying your part.

"On day one you said it was just you and me, that no matter what we could trust each other, that we would have each other's backs. We promised-You. Promised." Your voice was starting to betray you, shaking as your emotions tried to break through, but you refused to cry, refused to let yourself lose control. "Did you even think of how this genius plan of yours would affect me? How it would affect anyone who isn't you?"

"Campbell promised you'd be safe, I made sure-"

"Oh yeah, cause Campbell is so fucking trustworthy!" Your voice was slowly climbing in volume despite your attempts to stay as calm as possible. "Campbell doesn't give a shit about me, or you, or anyone in this town, he only cares about himself. Can't you see he's just manipulating you? You really think you're gonna be the one making the decisions? You're his fucking puppet Harry."

"Give me some credit, I have it handled, I-"

You cut him off again, "Can you honestly tell me that you've actually thought of the consequences of your little plan?"

Y/N-"

"I mean honestly Harry do you think of anyone but yourself? Did you even consider-"

"Would you let me fucking talk?" He yelled, a bit louder than he intended. The outburst startled you, the surprise clear on your face. Harry let out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair, "I wanted to tell you, alright? But we couldn't risk telling anyone who wasn't involved and have the plan getting out."

"And what exactly was this plan of yours? Have the guard, the people we all trust to keep us safe, storm Allie's house, and what? Arrest her? Then what? Take over by force and arrest anyone who gets in your way?"

"I know it sounds bad-"

"Bad?" You were shocked at how ignorant he was, did he really not realize his harmful this could before the town? "Harry everything is finally working, stores haven't been raided, people are doing their jobs, an expedition is set to go out soon, and the committee on going home is actually making progress. This town is fragile, even the smallest shift in structure could cause a panic. Your plan would shatter this town."

"You're telling me you're seriously okay with picking up trash every day for what could possibly be the rest of your life?"

"Yeah it sucks, I don't like it either, but it works! What Allie is doing works."

"Yeah well not for me," he fired back, the two of you now in a big yelling match, "Okay, this place sucks! Everything about it sucks! The food, the jobs, the housing, the leaders." Harry felt bad for yelling at you, he hated fighting with you no matter how big or small the argument was, but everything was getting so heated that it was becoming too easy to say regrettable things

"We're on our own! We don't get to live in luxury anymore, Harry! We have to make sacrifices in order for things to work around here, I know you think you can do better than Allie, and who knows maybe you can, but this is our life now, we can't do much better!" Your voice was starting to get raw and scratchy from the amount of yelling, tears stung the back of your eyes, and you were beyond exhausted.

"Yes we can, we can do so much better! Why can't you just trust me on this? I thought we promised to have each other's backs?" He said the last part almost mockingly, and you felt your anger skyrocket, so much for trying to remain calm and collected.

"No!" You yelled in his face, "No, you don't get to throw that in my face, not after all the shit you've pulled! Going behind my back, lying to me, lying to everyone in this town!" Your voice got weaker with each word, finally reaching your breaking point.

Everything was so fucked up, Harry's head was so far up his ass that deep down you knew there was no changing his mind, and the right thing to do was so obvious, you needed to tell Allie and Will, so why weren't you already doing that? Why were you still here trying to convince Harry to change?

You knew why, and you hated it, hated how head over heals you were for him, hated how you still believed in him, hated how even after everything he'd hidden from you, you still loved him. You were stressed, angry, conflicted, but above anything you were just so tired. Tired of the fighting, the yelling, the chaos, the unshakeable feeling something horrible could happen at any moment, you just wanted to be home, back with your family. You'd give anything to have your old life back, Friday night football games, date night every Saturday with Harry, stupid high school drama and cast parties.

You sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, hunched over with your elbows resting on your knees and you head in your hands, the tears you'd been holding back finally finding their way to the surface. Your body shook as you took in ragged breaths, small sobs escaping your lips.

It seemed as though your breaking point happened to be Harry's as well, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, that's why he was so adamant with Campbell about you being safe no matter what, that you would have a say in what happened after he was finally in charge. He knew you wouldn't like the plan the second it was made, and maybe that alone should have told him there was a flaw or two with it, he considered you one of the smartest people in both West Ham and New Ham, but it was the only way to fix things and have a better life. Right?

But seeing you like this? It almost made him want to throw the whole plan out the window. Almost.

Harry took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he crouched down in front of you, his mind searched for some magic phrase that would make everything better, but he knew there was no such thing.

"Y/N," he whispered softly, "Baby look at me."

When you didn't budge he gently gripped your wrists and pulled your hands away from your face, revealing red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He held your hands in between his, lifting them to his lips and placing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"I am so sorry I didn't tell you, I should have been honest with you the second Campbell mentioned the plan," your jaw tightened at the mention of Campbell, telling Harry to keep him out of the conversation. "I never meant to hurt you, and if I could go back and do it all over again I would, I'm sorry, Y/N."

He was genuine, and that gave you the silver of hope you needed to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could stop him from doing something he couldn't take back.

"Then tell Allie, stop all of this before it gets out of hand, run for office and try to win fairly," you pleaded. "Please, Harry."

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut as he prepared to answer. He didn't know who this would hurt worse, you or him.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he couldn't even look at you as he spoke, his gaze meeting the ground instead. The sliver of hope you'd felt before had been crushed, your heart dropping into your stomach when it finally hit that there was no changing his mind. You were now the one with a choice, tell Allie and betray Harry, or support Harry and go against what you felt was the right thing to do.

"It's not fair Harry," you said in a small, squeaky voice, "It's not fair for you to put me in this situation." You were right, he couldn't argue with that.

"You don't have to do anything, just keep quiet and I promise you will be safe, but if Campbell finds out you know and you're not on board. . . Just, can you promise me you won't say anything?" Harry's eyes finally met yours.

"I don't know, Harry," you whispered, looking down.

"What?"

"I don't fucking know, okay?" You raised your voice, standing up abruptly. "You're asking me to chose between you and what I know is right for this town! I- I just need some fucking air."

You pushed past Harry, wiping stray tears from your cheeks as you rushed towards the door. You gripped the cold metal knob and pulled the door open. However, a hand came down on the door, pushing it shut.

You whipped around to see Harry, his arm extended past your head, leaning against the door to prevent you from opening it again. You let out a sharp breath, scoffing at how actions. You looked up at him in disbelief, but it seemed as though he couldn't quite meet your gaze.

"Open the door, Harry," you said in a dangerous and low voice.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave." His tone held a sense of pain in it. He didn't enjoy what he was doing. Nonetheless, he shifted his body so that he now stood with his back pressed to the door, completely blocking your only way out.

"Fucking what?"

"I'm sorry, I can't until I know you won't tell Allie and Will."

You reached for the doorknob again, even though you knew your efforts would be unsuccessful. Harry grabbed your wrist, his grip was gentle, but that didn't do anything to calm the rage bubbling up inside of you.

You instantly ripped your wrist from his grip, giving him a few choice words in the process. Frustration and anger burned inside of you, and you could feel more tears stinging the back of your eyes.

You turned your back to Harry, walking over to the window at the far end of his room. Soft footsteps echoed from behind you as Harry hesitantly walked towards you, choosing to stop a couple feet away from you.

"Y/N I-"

"Just get out, Harry." You said coldly.

"What?"

"If you won't let me leave the least you can do is give me some space."

There were a few seconds of silence before you heard Harry sniffle. "I'm sorry," he whispered in a broken voice. When you heard the door open and softly close you turned around to make sure he'd actually left.

When you saw he did, you collapsed onto his bed, letting out all of your emotions.

Everything was so fucked.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Winner’s Curse Ch. 21

I’m back and the story’s back! Hope you enjoy. It’s the final countdown. Only 9 more chapters to go. Enjoy!

“I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this!” Calix hissed once his mother walked through the door.

Circe hastily finished closing the door, taking extra care to double check the locks on the marble doorway, though Calix suspected that was more for the sake of gathering her thoughts together than caution. As suspicious and paranoid villains could be, Coven members rarely tried to intrude in each other’s rooms or meddle in their business. Probably an ego thing, thinking the doings of others were beneath them.

Not that this was important to Calix right now.

They were on crunch time. In a week, less than a week considering the sun was already setting today, the Coven would invade Auradon. Wrecking long-awaited vengeance, and chaos on Auradonians. Auradonians, who, if we’re being honest, were too sheltered and pampered to know how to slap much less defend themselves. There would be blood if they didn’t stop it.

And his mom, his mom who never tried to drag people to “the other side” or cared who was the fairest, who was not vying to be the baddest of them all, was still going along with this.

“Calix, I told you, there’s no other option.” Circe faced him, elegantly strutting toward the nearest ottoman where she could talk to him face to face. Just like the old times, when she would give him romance advice or assure him he would not die from alcohol poisoning, but that’s what he got for trying to drink Bacchus under the table.

Only instead of maternal advice, the son was the one trying to steer his mother away from murder.

“Yes, there is an option.” Calix stressed the last words, mangling the velvet cushions under his grip. The only thing keeping him from taking one of the many statues of muscled Greek heroes and throwing it against the walls in frustration.

“You still have the option to do the right thing. Join us. King Ben will grant full pardon for being part of the original Coven. You’ll be considered a hero.”

“Hmph! You’re right. If I reformed, then they’ll completely forget my crimes.” Circe said sarcastically.

“Oh right, I did do that! I stopped turning men, idiots really, into animals. I found love, I raised a son, made a business and they still sent me here! I’m sorry but there’s no right option.” Circe’s face lost her bitter scowl for a moment, returning to the maternal gesture reserved for him. One that conveyed comfort but also firmness, “Not for me. Life’s just not fair.”

“But Mom….” Calix whined, cringing at how childish it was but also feeling the pit in his stomach grow. He felt helpless. He’d always been able to get his Mom to see his point of view. But that had been in small disputes like whether he should be allowed to go to Orpheus’ concert on a school night or not grounding him for fighting with one of his cousins and punching him in the face. Minor things really.

None of them dealing with Circe’s values or worldview or any of her decisions.

This time he was trying to fight her on something she actually cared about. And gods, he was losing. Or maybe his mom was as stubborn as Minos and he simply hadn’t noticed it before.

Either one boded badly for his friends.

“I’m sorry, koukla. Honestly I wished I had you before the Great Uniting. You would have been there during the fires and earthquakes and all that. The “Life’s not fair” wouldn’t be so surprising.” Circe gripped his hand, rubbing her fingers lovingly. But it was only jarring for Calix. It was like some surreal, sick joke that his Mom was acting like their disagreement was over a menial thing and not life or death. Good and Evil.

So Calix snatched his hand from his Mom’s grasp and squared his shoulders. Time to get tough because clearly he couldn’t rely on motherly love to just do what he wanted. He’d have to be rational. Play to her sense of self, and what she would get out of this.

“Athena help me.” He prayed.

“I know life is not fair already, Mom. You think I didn’t realize that when they shipped you here. Life is not fair. But what I don’t get is that you won’t consider leaving the Coven. You’re not like them, you don’t want to kill anyone.”

“No,” Circe sighed in admittence, slumping and conceding to him. A little bit but it was something. “I just want to turn King Adam into that Beast form he hates so much. Wait, no, no. A slug. If he becomes a beast, he has too much power to fight back.”

Calix stood up and began to pace around the room, tapping his chin as if in thought that he’d seen Socretes do during his lectures before zinging a student with some philosophical epiphany, “Really? You’re sticking with them, murderers and tyrannical narcissists for petty revenge.”

“Not petty! I’ve always been a reasonable person!” Circe yelled, selectively forgetitng the many exes she transformed because she got bored with them, “He is punishing me for my past mistakes. This damn Isle is “consequences for my actions.” Bastard! I’m giving him consequences for his actions, he’s going to be a slug!”

Calix nodded as if he understood how his Mom felt. Which he had at one point. But now, he was tired and slightly bruised and again, so so tired. He wanted this to be over. The mission. The spying on the Coven. This stupid repetitive fight.

“Mom, you’re not like them. We both know that. But other people don’t. Auradon will only remember you as one of the many evil Coven members. Not a reformed sorceress injustly sent here, trying to get back to her-”

His mom looked at him, a rush of emotions crossing her face in an instant. Understanding, thoughtfulness, concern, anger, resolve and firmness. “Enough, Calix, I made up my mind. I have nothing left. With the Coven, I get some sweet revenge. What do I get if I reform? A pardon while that hypocritical King Adam waits for a new mob requesting for “villains” to get shipped.”

Firmness and resolve were flush on her face. Firmness and resolve to stick with the Coven.

Calix breathed deeply, feeling an unwanted lump gather in his throat as he listened to his mom make possibly the biggest mistake of their lives.

And worse, that she felt she had to do this because she had nothing left.

Was he not there? He was something… someone who desperately wanted her back home. He wanted her so badly that his chest ached as another weight settled there. Couldn’t she see that? This mission, this seriousness and emotional honesty that he usually avoided most of his life, he was doing this because he wanted her back.

And she thought she had nothing.

He couldn’t hide the emotion in his voice  though he did his best. “You have nothing left if you choose to help the good? You’d get to live in Greece again. With me, your son. But I guess I’m not worth… I’m not-you know, since you have “nothing left.”

He turn to walk out the room, barely remembering to walk out the room was to be exposed in the hallway for any of the Coven to jeer and question him. Who already distrusted his surprise presence. So he swerved onto the right where the mosaic of Hermes’ cadacus was like an arrow to the private bathroom. Not better but he wanted to be alone.

He breathed in the faint wisp of steam that pervaded the room. His mom’s paltry attempt to make the closet-sized space echo the bathhouses at home. It had the faint hint of rotten bananas, another reminder of the poverty and dirt of the Isle that everyone wanted to get away from.

He sat on the toilet, hugging his knees to his chest like he had when he was a little and peering through the keyhole at one of his mom’s parties. It was a perfect position for how he felt, like a little boy who could do nothing to change his world. Just stare through the keyhole in relative safety and wait to see what would happen next.

He was hidden and alone.

So alone as he could hear his mom’s footsteps as she walked, he could see a pause outside the door from the shadow that peeked from the floor. But she didn’t knock. She walked away, walked away to the other door into the hallway to do who knows what with the Coven.

Damn his mom with her ideas of being a cool free range parent. For once, he actually wanted one of those Auradon helicopter moms he heard about. Like FG, constantly getting into his business and not letting arguments go.

Could his mom not see the big picture?

While she was storming King Adam’s castle for her damn revenge, the rest of the Coven would be destroying the kingdom. People wouldn’t just get transformed into animals. Hades, that would be a blessing. People would get killed.

And how could she forget him? He was willing to fight for their mission, he knew that he would have to when he agreed to join Jordan, but did his Mom not realize if the Coven took over, they’d mark him for dead. They’d go behind her back and her claims of “protection” to make sure he wouldn’t start any rebellions like he was doing now.

He glanced around the small room, desperate for something to numbly occupy his mind before he thought about something darker. His eyes landed on the cabinet.

Any Greek worth their sandals would carry some ouzo in their homes, and since he hadn’t since a wine rack in his mom’s museum-like room…...

Sweet Nike! There was a whole shelf of shot glasses with ouzo already poured into them. Circe must have needed it to deal with living in this dump and all the villains around her.

If there was anything that would help him with the awful weight on his chest, it would be this.

He lifted one shot glass to his lips and drank, relishing the sweet burning liqued that went down his throat as smoothly as a waterfall.

Then he took another glass, and he was about to reach for the third when a small, quiet voice reminded him that there was still a mission at stake. He had to report back to Uma and the others and give them the bad news that his mom would definitely not be helping them.

Normally, that reminder would have sent him to gulping down four more drinks but this time it stilled his hand.

Like he told his mother, there was a bigger picture at stake than just her revenge. There were bigger things at stake than his own feelings of sadness. He slowly closed the cabinet, leaning his head against the cool mirror. He tried to do the deep breathing and focus.

This was hard. Gods, it was hard, he had known that going in.

And okay, maybe he’d known that but hadn’t believed it until this moment.

He had thought it would be fun, just like another one of those adventures or a fairytale.

Auradon was built on fairytales and he had thought there would take the requisite two or three days, they fight a dragon or two and then they’d go home in victory and as a family.

But it’d been a month, they found out the villain’s grand plan but had no way to solve it and now, he was having personal issues with his mom.

This would be a good time for what Jordan dubbed, a deus ex machine or just in time denouncement.

“Life’s not fair.” That’s what his Mom said. Not just now, but several times. When his dad died, speared by an Arendellan fisherman’s net. Yet another thing Circe despised King Adam for, because those fishermen came from the King’s initiative for kingdoms to share their resources.

The Arendellans hadn’t been properly vetted, or simply hadn’t paid attention to the orientation that not all sirens were trying to siren-song them to their deaths. That some simply lounge around the oceans because it was literally their home.

He had learned that after he experienced his first time being dumped last year. Which honestly had been more of a shock than a devastation but still.

His mom being sent away had been the worst by far. This coming in a close second.

But in all the times, he learned that life was not fair. He also learned to deal with it and try to keep moving with his life. At one point there had been nothing he would have liked more to have stormed the castle and changed all the suspicious mobs into mice. That’s why he made friends with Morgaine Le Fey. She was the only one who understood the anger and pain he felt, and it felt good to share his revenge fantasies.

But that’s all they were. Fantasies. Rationally, he knew that would only prove their fears right.

Calix learned to adjust his attitude a bit after his mom left, trying his best to stay out of trouble now that his mother wouldn’t be able to bail him out of the dungeon. Also he was more aware of how people viewed him in light of his siren-sorcerer heritage. Where once he played up his casanova flirtatiousness, now he tried to moderate himself.

And he had been fine.

Part of his outgoingness was a purposefully middle finger to the Auradonian Magic Ban. He played up all the things the royals hated like awesome kinky sex, and lavish magic acts because what else could he do? He had no reason to go to a fancy school with the preppy royals. But he also couldn’t pursue a normal job since the magic that was part of him was forbidden.

So there was nothing to do but get into the dungeons a lot.

But in trying to curb himself into something more “acceptable,” it was annoying but also nice?

Sure, he had resented it at first, but it was also nice?

Not trying so hard to be so unflappable, to have a pick up line for every man and woman. Stop trying to hide the fact that occasionally he wanted to act like that romantic prince archtype who wrote poems and made sculptures for their beloved because sirens didn’t do that. To hide that he could be serious, that his feelings got hurt when someone, usually a satyr because satyrs are cranky assholes, crossed a line. Maybe it was adapting, maybe he was growing up?

He didn’t know, but he lifted his head from the mirror and the twitch in his hands to reach for another shotglass was gone.

It was time to man up and be serious. It sucked that his mom wasn’t going to help, but he still had a job to do to save Aurado. After all, maybe if they saved the Coven, KIng Ben would allow his mom back as a favor. Jordan was always saying he was a sweet pushover. Yeah, there was still a chance he could get his mom off the Isle. And then-

“Hey, Cal, how are you doing?” A warm breeze ruffled his hair in a show of pink smoke and there was Jordan leaning her chin in the crook of her neck like the most annoying yet heartstopping ghost ever.

Calix choked back a scream, losing his balance at the sight of another person in front of the mirror. This fall resulted in Calix hitting his head several times against the door in his ungraceful slide down the wall.

Probably looking more like a scandelized royal than a put together teenager with his hand clutching his heart, Calix gasped for his pulse to go back to normal.

“Fucking genies! Jordan, I told you, warn me before you pop up. Remember, you had that whole lesson about the importance of knocking before entering? It’s the same thing, I almost had a fucking heart attack!”

Jordan didn’t care, she simply raised an accusatory eyebrow, “Are you drinking?”

How the fuck did she always know that? Calix was sincerely starting to suspect that she planted a magic tracer on him. The number of times she popped when he was having a drink was too coincenidental. Or maybe he just drank all the time?

Whatever, it didn’t matter. He was a new, mature Calix now.

“Just a shot-” Calix held up a hand before Jordan could interrupt him, “Just a shot. But I stopped because we have bigger things to worry about like how my mom isn’t on our side.” Jordan slid down to sit next to him, “You stopped because I came in time, admit it.”

Calix rolled his eyes, “No, it wasn’t that. I stopped but I listened to the Jiminy Cricket that I finally released from the dungeons of my brain.”

Jordan put a hand on his, the serious anxious look that had become her normal expression the past month returned, “Calix, I know this thing with your mom is hard, but now is not the time to fall apart. Things will get better, I don’t know how, but I need you to promise me not to touch alcohol.”

Calix stared at Jordan, realizing that this wasn’t one of their usual banters. She really thought he was going to go on a binge, right at this moment.

Yes, Calix had done that before. The days after his father’s death for instance and his mom’s absence. But he hadn’t been on an high stakes mission then. It was just himself and his grief.

But to binge drink, when someone was depending on him. Never. She knew that. When they had a night on the town with Aziz, he had been the sober one. He refused the drinks his way because someone had to be the designated carpet flyer. And filmer of embarrassing drunken antics.

Though Jordan may have been too drunk to notice herself, his self-imposed maturity.

But did she really think that he’d fall apart at this moment when he managed to keep himself together for the past seven months. For the 4 weeks on this hellish Isle?

“Jordan, I am not on a bender.” Calix enunciated each word carefully, staring her straight in the eye so she could he was serious. A bit of an intimidating feat if Calix was being honest with himself. Not because it was Jordan, but because… well the only one he was serious or honest was with his mom. But there was a first time for everything.

“I am not drinking on this mission. The shot was a lapse but I know I’m on a bigger mission right now, so I stopped.” “But you never-”

“I used to. But I have matured. We all have matured if you haven’t noticed. The usual doesn’t apply here, so I promise you, I’m not going to drink my sorrows away. There is too much at stake.”

Jordan looked a bit freaked out by his proclamation because she was staring at him all wide-eyed, “But-are you sure? I don’t think you’re capable of-”

Calix clenched his jaw and glared. It was one thing for himself to be surprised at his maturity but it was kind of insulting that it was so hard for his best friend to comprehend. That apparently she thought he was “incapable” of change.

“Yes, I am. So are you going to insult me some more or would you like to carry on with important things like how are we going to pull this off without my mom’s extra power?”

Jordan closed her mouth, satisfactorily chastened. And then in another milestone of their first emotional talk, Jordan muttered under her breath, “Sorry.”

Eh, not really meaningful but it was enough.

“It’s fine.” Calix nudged her shoulder with his to show their was no real hard feelings.

Jordan didn’t look at him but leaned her head on his shoulder, “I’ve been messing up so much lately.”

Calix pursed his lips, not trusting himself to not say something that would send her in a mood. He’d seen her being all moody and mopy the last few days though he didn’t know the exact reason. She was probably regretting giving the leadership position to Uma (drunken decisions are rarely ones you enjoy the consequences of) but Calix thought she made a good choice. Uma was a bit stern and intimidating, but she knew she was doing and was more effective than Jordan could ever be.

He also sensed the tension between her and Aziz. Especially since that meant she was hanging around him more. Usually he wouldn’t mind that, but this was hanging out with an ulterior motive and he wasn’t going to get in the middle of whatever Agrabah sandstorm that was between them.

“Hey, you still have me. Besides, now we’re having that alone time talk that the heroes and sidekicks or the love interests have before they save the day. We can check that off our adventure list.” Jordan lifted her head from his shoulder to stare at him incredulously, “Wait whose the sidekick in the scenario?”

“You are, obviously! You’re the genie.” Calix said.

“Wha-but but-why can’t we be love interests?” Jordan protested. “We’re already friends with benefits. It’s too late for us.” Calix answered. “Well, I-”

There was a knock on the door, and a tentative, “Calix?” “I‘ll leave you to it, Uma says to report at 4 sharp.” Jordan whispered, and poofed away.

Calix opened the door, feeling more calm, “Yes, Mom?” Calix was swept into the warm arms of his mom, the smell of sea salt and roses sweeping over him as she hugged him tighter. Firm, steady, like she wasn’t going to let him go.

But she did, holding onto his shoulders, “I’m sorry, Calix. You’re right.”

“I am?” Calix asked, almost hitting himself in the head for questioning it instead of just celebrating.

“Yes, you’re right. I went to another meeting and I listened. I actually listened instead of envisioning what I would do with Beast.. And.. it’s stupid to say this. But they’re evil. Actually evil. It’s not just a “cross the border and destroy everything in sight” plan. They- they’re actually thorough. Mother Gothel and Evil Queen are using sorcery and the dwarf tunnels to get through to the castle. Nerissa and Maleficent are going to go in double dragon form and burn down the castle and corner the royal children in the basement. It’s just-I- I can’t ally myself with them.”

Circe’s eyes brimmed, “Especially when I have a son… I do want to come back to you. My revenge shouldn’t be before you.”

Calix nodded, pulling his mom in for another hug because gods knew they haven’t done this in a long time.

Now they had to report to the captain.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Any idea where that wench is now?” Harry snarled, slamming down a glass of rum so roughly that CJ could hear the crack of glass as well see as the spider-cracks on its side from her position behind the window curtains.

It was a cliche spot. So obvious that no one would think to look there, and that’s why CJ chose it.

After all, a true pirate and a true villain had to keep track of her competition.

After last night’s, in CJ’s opinion, humiliating talk with the mini Ak Coven or whatever they called themselves, it was clear that Lady Caine was not going to honor her word.

Well… Lady Caine hadn’t said that they wouldn’t use her plan to take over the Jolly Roger, in fact she had asked for CJ’s plan outlines, but…

CJ bristled at the way Caine had shoved her aside and wouldn’t let her speak in front of the group. As if she was an afterthought. A kiddie tagalong.

It was too familiar a feeling. It was like she was one of the Hook siblings again. The youngest one, the baby trying to play an adult’s game.

And after all she’d done, getting to Auradon on her own before Harriet or Harry, going to Neverland to retrieve James Hook’s compass, stealing and plundering across the Seven Seas…. Everyone still didn’t see her as a pirate in her own right.

By Davy Jones’ locker that was all going to change even if that was that was the last thing she did! Screw Lady Caine, supposed mother or not, she didn’t need anyone’s assistance. She didn’t want to be part of Lady Caine’s revenge on Beast plan.

All she wanted was to be on her ship, on her own with her infamy riding the waves.

She was going to plunder the Jolly Roger by herself.

So she snuck out of Hans and Staylan’s castle… Actually, disappointingly enough to CJ’s sense of showmanship, it was more like she walked out of the castle since no one cared where she went anyway.

And now she hid out in Captain Hook’s office behind the curtains in hopes of hearing of any plans or information that would be helpful to CJ’s future theft.

Unfortunately Hook was not the one using the office. Apparently he was blacked out in his bedroom.

Harriet and Harry were the ones in charge of Hook’s office. Harriet being the heir to the Jolly Roger.

CJ grinded her teeth, a stupid childhood habit that she thought she had outgrown. Along with her more obsessive pacing, a Hook trademark with their fear of ticking crocodiles. CJ bit her lip instead trying to curb her instincts but teh word “heir” just irritated her to no end.

Why should Harriet be the heir? Seriously!?!

Her sister was tough. One of the baddest, most intimidating Vks with her scarred eye, tattered eyepatch and half shaved head. Not to mention the numerous kraken-inspired tattoos running down her arms and neck. Yeah, she looked the part of a seafaring pirate.

But she didn’t do anything worth the name of piracy.

She inherited the crew from Captain Hook, an easy feat since they were spineless swabs, brainless and obedient.

They were sidekicks whose idiocy often hindered their looting runs than helped. Much like Smee was the clueless thorn that ruined most of Hook’s plans.

Besides, everyone knew that things stolen on the Isle were useless and valueless. The biggest treasure chest that Harriet ever stole was one of Captain Hook’s old buried treasures. The coins rusted over or chewed by sea mammals.

A rotting bone would have been more bright and shiny than that treasure.

And Harry….

Harry never bothered to fight for himself. He lowered the Hook name by acting as a little enforcer and first mate to that sea witch, Uma.

CJ couldn’t believe she once idolized them.

“Dun know. Don’t care.” Harriet rasped, wiping her lips, and rolling her eyes in that bored babysitter way that CJ and Harry seen their whole lives.

Harriet was a pirate without ambition. Yet another reason why she, Calista Jane Hook, should be the famous Hook of them all.

“The welp is scheming against us, how can you not care?” Harry growled

“Because it is just another game to her. She’ll get bored with the ship and go off again. You knwo her, obsesses with one thing and moves on. It doesn’t matter.”

CJ clenched her fist, her grinding teeth sounding obnoxiously loud in her head. Another game. Moves on. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter.

She was still a kid to them. How can they not see how serious she was? Why couldn’t they once admit that she was a good pirate.

Why couldn’t they do that?

She knew they were capable of it. When they were younger, they didn’t hold to their Dad’s value that you couldnt say a nice thing about anyone but yourself. Or a particularly gorgeous jewel.

But they didn’t dismiss her like Dad. They acknowledged her quick thinking and even quicker fingers. Her strength in swinging on ropes for her piraty entrances.

Why couldn’t they do that now? It’s like they and the rest of the world grew up, but they didn’t think she did. She was still an inconsequential child. She didn’t matter.

And a thought… dark and unwelcome like the girl’s shadow creatures entered her mind.

Freddie’s warm, sultry smile and bright eyes looking at her with unbidden delight. The kind of smile that made CJ forget about the fresh sweet smell of sea kelp calling to her or golden treasures blinding her eyes. The smile that made her want to fall into Freddie’s dark spell and nimble fingers until she forgot what light was.

The same, curving lips telling her that she wasn’t worth it. That Freddie would rather stay in Auradon than sail the seas with her. That she’d rather change herself so she could be a goody goodie among the luxuries of Auradon than be with her. That’d she’d rather be like Mal and those other traitors than be with her.

Cj bit her lip harder, trying to find one thought any thought that would distract her from the memory that was threatening to make her sink to her knees.

Freddie Faciliar, for all that CJ tried to distance herself from the shadow girl, relegating her to sidekick, to simply a best friend and occasional lover… Freddie was one treasurer she had had that she loved most of all.

And even Freddie rejected her.

What was it? With all her skills and ambition that no one would take her seriously? That no one respected or wanted her enough to listen.

Freddie’s green eyes flashed once more in her mind, fading and fading much like Freddie herself from CJ’s life.

No one wanted to stay with her.

CJ grinded her teeth again, a small spark of pride and fury flaring up in her despite the limited amount of movement she could without being caught. Anger was better than weakness or sadness. She had to focus on that.

Her time would come.

The day of the invasion, when everyone was distracted, she would take her rightful place alongside Ching Shih and Captain Hook as a pirate for the history books.

She would take that sword mounted on Captain Hook’s wall and use it for herself. She’d make this brainless, spineless crew walk the plank. She’d cut the ropes and sail through the barrier.

She’d kill anyone who got in her way.

And if that person was her sibling, so be it. Then they’d take her seriously.

After all, a pirate needed to be ruthless and backstabbing to be the best.

Because that was who she was. The best pirate the Isle and Auradon had ever seen.

[blake-belladonna-defence-force]

Let Me Fall (Only If You Let Me Fall, Too)

Sooo... @styxkid287 came up with an idea and we ended up talking about it. And so, this story was born.

Simply put? The Atlas military finds out about Blake and Yang informing Robyn about the General’s plan for Amity Arena and they are forcibly separated into seperate interrogation rooms. Each girl attempts to play ignorant but when their partner is brought up, fear and guilt set in. The Ace-Ops know what they’re doing, after all. Especially Harriet who picked up on their hopeless flirting.

Including an argument that our girls work through.

I was also greatly inspired by @bloodraven55 ‘s fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/21310411 about the crew being arrested and interrogated. So please go check it out and give her some love if you haven’t already 😊 I particularly adore the way Blake is written here.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Miss Belladonna.”

Blake stared blankly at Clover. Her anxiety was through the roof and she desperately needed to see Yang. But she wasn’t going to let him know that.

“You could be in serious trouble here. Robyn Hill is wanted by the Kingdom of Atlas and any communication and exchange of information with her is an act of treason.”

Blake remained silent.

“Miss Belladonna…” Clover sighed heavily, leaning forward and putting a cup of tea in front of her. “Blake… May I call you Blake?”

“No.” Blake deadpanned. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to come across as a friend. To convince her that he was on her side.

“My apologies.” Clover said, a slight crease in his brow. “Your tea will get cold. It’s better when it’s hot.”

“Not in the mood for tea.” Blake said with a shrug. “You know how it is. Being cuffed tends to take the joy out of it.”

She internally smirked at the twitch in his left cheek. The man obviously wasn’t used to his tricks not working.

‘How unfortunate for him.’ Blake though to herself, feeling a sharp pang when the pun reminded her of Yang. ‘Please be okay, Yang. Please don’t do anything brash.’

“Listen, kid.” Clover said, eyes narrowing and Blake knew he was getting frustrated with her. “I am trying to help you. So help me, help you.”

“And what buddy cop movie did you pull that one from?” Blake asked, appearing bored. “Haste Hour? Tag Along?”

“Look, you seem like a good kid.” Clover said, smile very obviously forced. “You want to do the right thing. You dream of helping people. You’re passionate. That much is obvious. You remind me of myself when I was your age.”

Blake merely quirked an eyebrow, expression otherwise blank.

“But you’re young. You’re lost and confused and maybe even a little scared.” Clover said, voice and expression softening… all except his eyes. It was always their eyes. “But you don’t need to be. I can help you. But you need to talk to me. Tell me the truth.”

Blake sighed and leaned forward.

“The truth is…” she said quietly. “That I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She kept her expression blank but felt a small burst of satisfaction when Clover inhaled sharply, eyes narrowing. He was still trying to appear collected but Blake knew better. She had spent years learning to read body language. Life with Adam had made it necessary.

“Okay.” Clover said quietly. “Then I suppose you can enjoy having your license revoked.”

Blake shrugged. Not having a license never stop her before.

“I wonder how Miss Xiao Long will feel about losing hers.”

Blake felt her blood run cold. ‘No, not Yang. Please not her!’

“I know that she’s been working towards this career for so many years. And she was so excited and proud to finally be here.” Clover said calmly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “I wonder how she’ll feel about losing it. Her dreams, her goals. Everything she’s worked towards her whole life. Gone. All because of one wrong decision.”

“Leave. Her. Out. Of this!” Blake snarled, her façade breaking, ears flat against her skull.

“There she is.” Clover chuckled. “Perhaps now you’ll be a little more cooperative?”

‘Fuck.’ Blake thought to herself harshly. ‘What have I done?’

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Yang’s foot was bouncing anxiously. She felt sick and she was close to panic.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw them ripping her and Blake apart. She could hear Blake’s whisper of “Don’t let them get under your skin. Play ignorant. Refuse to answer their questions!” Before they were roughly dragged into separate interrogation rooms.

“Miss Xiao Long.” Harriet was smirking at her. Like she knew exactly was going on in Yang’s mind. She hated it. “I want to know what happened. You’re going to tell me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yang said bluntly. Good, listen to what Blake said. Focus on Blake.

“No?” Harriet hummed thoughtfully. “A wanted woman was granted inside information. When you and your partner were on a mission in the local area. It’s a little suspicious, don’t you think?”

“Robyn’s smart.” Yang shrugged. “She probably figured it out.”

“Or somebody gave it to her.” Harriet said sharply. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if a certain little ex-terrorist gave it to her.”

Yang felt her eyes shift to red, her blood boiling.

“Stay away from her!” She growled. “Don’t you dare go after her!”

“Then tell me what I want to know.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Who told Robyn Hill what the General’s plan was?”

“… fine. I’ll talk.” Blake lifted her chin and stared Clover down. “My partner is innocent. It was my idea and I tricked her into going along with it. It really wasn’t that hard if you know what you’re doing.” Blake said quietly, meeting Clover’s gaze. “She was on the General’s side. I wasn’t it. So I got her on mine.”

“So you manipulated your partner.” Clover said bluntly. “After she’s shown so much trust in you?”

Blake bit back a flinch and remained firm. The accusation, no matter how false, stung.

“I didn’t like using her like that.” Blake said calmly. “But I did what I thought had to be done.”

“Right.” Clover stared at her for a moment before standing. “Sit tight. I’m going to relay this to the General.”

Blake bowed her head, tears finally blurring her vision.

‘I’m sorry, Yang.’ She was terrified that she was breaking her promise. That they would take her away from her team. But the guilt of being the reason that Yang lost something that meant so much to her? She couldn’t bare it. So she took the fall. ‘I’m so sorry.’

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“It was my fault.” Yang said, looking into Harriets eyes. “Blake wanted to stay out of it. But I didn’t want to listen to her. I went to Robyn anyway and told her.” Yang gave a mirthless chuckle. “And Blake wanted to stop me. But she was too late. Robyn was already gone.” Yang swallowed thickly, silently praying that Harriet would believe her.

“And how did Miss Belladonna respond?”

“She was hurt. I hate myself for doing that to her.” Yang pretended to lower her head in shame. “I begged her not to tell anyone and she eventually agreed.”

“I see.” Harriet hummed. “You stay there. I’m going to go speak to the General.”

“Not like I’m going anywhere.” Yang muttered bitterly, shaking her cuffs pointedly.

‘I’m sorry, Blake.’ She thought as she bit back tears. ‘I tried.’

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Yang paced back and forth in the small room she had been directed to, grateful that her hands were now uncuffed.

Apparently, Blake had the same idea as her and had attempted to take the fall. Their stories contradicted, forcing the General to either punish them both or let them go.

Ultimately, he begrudgingly let them go, putting restrictions on their licenses.

“Yang!”

Yang let out a grunt as a body collided with her own, stumbling back as arms wrapped around her neck. She caught her footing and wrapped her arms around Blake and they held each other for a moment before Blake pulled away and glared at her.

“What is wrong with you?!” She hissed. “Taking the fall like that? You could have your license! Everything you been working for!”

“You think I care about a stupid license?” Yang jolted back. “You have a record a mile long, Blake! Do you have any idea what would happen if you got caught for treason?!”

“It’s my fault so I should have taken the blame!”

“I’m the one who suggested it!”

“Only because I felt uncomfortable!”

The two stared each other down, stubborn as always.

But after a moment, their expressions softened and their foreheads came together, as natural as breathing. Neither woman wanted to argue.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

Both girls blinked in surprise before letting out an awkward laugh, pressing closer to the other.

“I was just so scared of them doing something to you.” Yang whispered, throat tightening. “Harriet brought up your past and I couldn’t let them lock you away, Blake. I couldn’t!”

“I couldn’t bare the thought of them taking away something you’ve been working so hard for. Just because of me.” Blake choked out, hands clutching Yang’s jacket desperately. “I couldn’t let that happen. You’ve already lost so much.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s never been your fault. Not then and not now.” Yang reminded gently. “You’ve been hurt too.”

There was a pause as two stood there.

“I came up with the plan.” Yang murmured softly, curling her hands around Blake’s biceps and rubbing them.

“But-“

“This isn’t on you.”

“It’s not on you, either!”

The two stared each other down for a moment before sighing in unison and butting their head together gently.

“Aren’t we a pair?” Yang asked with a shaky smile.

“Yeah.” Blake mumbled, shifting her hands to rest against Yang’s collar and neck, needing to be feel her. “We are.”

“We both looked at our options and picked what we felt was right.” Yang said gently. “It was a joint decision.”

“Okay.” Blake breathed. “Yeah. I know that. I just… they got under my skin. You’re the one thing that they used that got to me.”

“You were the first thing Harriet brought up.” Yang admitted quietly. “Like she knew how much you mean to me. How quickly it would turn the tables.”

“Clover used you as a last resort.” Blake said softly. “You were the only thing that could break me.”

The two stood quietly, taking each other in.

“I think we’ve gone soft.” Yang murmured, smiling softly at Blake.

“I’ve gone soft.” Blake corrected. “You’ve always been a big softy.”

Yang let out a watery laugh and kissed Blake’s forehead.

“God, I missed you.” She mumbled into her skin. “I’m glad we’re back together.”

“Me too.” She felt Blake tuck her head into the crook of her neck and quickly pulled her close.

“We’re going to be okay, Blake.” She murmured into black hair. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” Blake whispered into her skin. “As long as we protect each other. Right?”

“Right.”

The two women allowed their tears to fall, uttering quiet reassurances as they waited to be escorted back to their team.

Communication. Understanding. Respect. Compassion.

That was why they worked so well. Why nothing could tear them apart.

They might disagree, even argue. But they would never let it fester.

[sabineelectricheart]

The Only Absolute Truth About Love

Summary: Sylvain felt blessed when he came to find out the only absolute truth about love. It was a heavenly punishment, rather than a gift.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 2100

Notes: I really wonder what my dearest readers think about the choices made on this fic. Do leave a comment, I’m a little slow (in time and in rational thought), but I really do appreciate it.

In all of his too many years of existence, forged through pain, war and loneliness, Sylvain, the heir to the great Gautier name, felt blessed when he came to find out the only absolute truth about love.

It was a heavenly punishment, rather than a gift.

The feeling of love immediately and inescapably equates to regret. All lovers eventually come to regret their folly, and it is a catch-28, as one often regrets not only in loving a person, but also in not being able or brave enough to actually express it.

It was a silly feeling, really, a feeling Sylvain would never admit to having even if had left him unable to sleep at night. Not the real kind of love, the one every man and woman he ever came across said he had never felt, instead of the courtly love he professed for every slightly striking beauty in the continent.

The redhead has no time for it, he tried to convince himself repeatedly, as life was much too short to care for monogamy, as people were inherently flawed and prone to hurt one another, as no one would ever care for him other than the blood that runs through his veins. However, the painful and suffocating clench he felt in his heart at the sight of his beloved in another man’s arms often gave pause to those thoughts.

He, then, wonders if he should have shed those fatalist convictions aside, if he should have taken a chance on them. He should have said something, anything, but whenever he opened his mouth, nothing good ever escaped. Only jokes, flirts and unfair comparisons.

The young lord swears on the Blue Sea Star that he wanted to become better, to pull himself together. He vowed it on the Goddess Tower, after all, and those promises are not to be forsaken. He thought he had time, he thought she would wait, but it turns out he was wrong.

He never meant for it to go this far, for him to catch feelings for his professor after Moons of shameless flirting. As far as he had noticed, the young woman was quite contented in the relationship they had, with the constant naughty whispers exchanged in public just to make the other feel flustered, to calling each other ‘dear’ just to tease.

Sylvain never knew she wanted more. If he had, he would have provided for whatever she could need. If he had only asked, he would have been hers. He should have asked either way, because anything was better than this, being forced to haunt empty rooms and hallways, hoping to sneak a glance or a moment of her time.

This was a particularly pleasant night, the Great Tree Moon shone full above the monastery, as Byleth walked through the hollowed passages between the academy and her new apartments amongst the faculty.

A soft smile was playing on her lips at the delight she felt after returning to the classroom, after so much tragedy of war. Pedagogy was the first and only thing she really found herself in, and she was glad for the sentiment of normalcy settling over Garreg Mach, as a new batch of students came along from all three corners of Fódlan.

Alas, regardless of her personal feelings about her chosen profession, it was still hard work, and the former mercenary wanted nothing more than a spot of relaxing tea and the close, warm embrace of her soft bed.

She turned into another hallway, a tapping sound echoing in the emptiness with each step she took on her leather boots, when a hand suddenly gripped her forearm, tugging her into an empty classroom. She tried to steady herself, scowling as she heard the door slam behind her. Instinctively, her hand snatched her dagger from her robes, pointing it towards the perpetrator before she could even see them.

To the woman’s great surprise, he who stood in front of her was Sylvain Gautier, a solemn expression on his moonlit face as he watched her. She felt her lips fall into a frown, unimpressed that the person she considered one of her closest friends before he forcefully distanced himself had decided to pull this kind of stunt now.

“I swear to you that if this is some kind of sick joke, Gautier…” She snapped impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest and leaving the threat hanging between them. They both knew who was stronger between them.

“It’s not!” He rushed out, approaching her, only for her to step back again. “I just...”

“I do not have all night, you know.” Her eyes burned into his, annoyance bubbling into her stomach the longer it took for him to say something. “Sylvain, I…”

“Leave him.” He blurted out before she could even utter another word.

Byleth scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“Aegir.” Sylvain amended his statement, becoming clear about whom and what he wanted to converse, his amber eyes looking back at the woman almost pleadingly. “Leave him.”

The professor released a cold laugh, disbelief running through her system at how stupid his request was. She was tired, to say the least, not enough energy running through her system to engage in an argument, so she turned to leave.

His strong, calloused hand grasped her arm again, keeping her in place, only for her to pull it back as if his touch had stung her.

“Please, Byleth.” He uncharacteristically pleaded with her. “I just want to talk to you.”

“There was a time I wanted to talk to you, too, Sylvain. Six Moons ago, to be more precise.” She sneered at him, eyes still glaring. “However, you were so adamant on ignoring my letters and visits, so I decided to let it go. I ought to you the same curtesy.”

“I never wanted any of this to happen!”

“When you say ‘this’, do you mean giving me in the healthy, committed relationship you could never bother to provide?” Her deceivingly soft hands made their way to her slender hips, to punctuate her dissatisfaction. “Let us be completely candid, Sylvain. Should you have not seen me with Ferdinand, should you have not heard of our engagement, you would not have bothered with me and whomever I choose to spend my time with.”

“Certainly not, I…!” He tried to interject.

“I find it so very convenient for you to admit that when I am in a loving relationship, no?” Byleth bit back sarcastically, cutting him off. “Are you unable, in some capacity, to stomach the fact that you cannot have everything you want? You cannot have me and all other womankind, and I would bet you merely want me to return to the position of your lover, if not just so anyone else cannot play what was once yours.”

It was absolutely jarring for them both to witness the usually stoic, soft-spoken Byleth to be so bitterly emotional, but the woman has held onto these frustrations and pains for much too long and it was time to let it out.

“Stop it, Byleth! You very well know it is not like that!” He growled, his features hardening as he tried to hold himself back.

“Then tell me what you want, Sylvain Gautier!” She exclaimed in anger.

“I want you!” He shouts, and then repeats with a softer voice. “I want you. I want to be with you and you alone.”

The professor turned silent once again at his confession, her harsh and judgemental glare softening at the words she would have liked to hear from him many Moons ago. Alas, things are different now. Now, she is in a relationship with Ferdinand von Aegir. Now, all the feelings she had for Sylvain were gone, replaced by anger and betrayal over the fact that he had led her on, only to force himself into her life when he realized she had gotten over him.

“You are so selfish.” Was all she thought to say. “I am tired, Sylvain. I am tired of loss and loneliness and fighting, and I was only more alone whenever I was in your company. You made me feel like I was worth nothing to you, and now you come forcing yourself back into my life as if you are completely blameless in the whole situation? I wasted so much time on you, Sylvain…”

“And I understand I am not worth it.”

“No, you were not.” She breathed out. “But it was freely given. Not anymore, though.”

Their eyes met again, his still pleading ones meeting the exhausted ones of hers. She has been wanting to talk about this for months, approaching him every opportunity she managed to weasel, but he brushed her off, always making excuses about being busy or away, when she would see him flirting and sneaking around with village girls as soon as she turns her head.

“I know you are at your best now. I can tell.” He mumbled after a few minutes, too soft that she almost did not hear. “And… And yes, I know how selfish I am being. I know how selfish it is to say that I hate it. I hate seeing you with him, flirting with him the way you used to do to me. I hate seeing you look at him as if he held the world in his hands. I hate… I hate the fact that you replaced me with him!”

“I did not replace you! Ferdinand is not some kind of substitute to you. He is his own man, and I am perfectly aware of the differences and similarities.” She took a deep breath in, calming herself. “Ferdinand... Unlike you, he has been a blessing on my life. He never made me doubt my relationship with him because he made sure to spend every second of the day assuring me that I am the only one for him, that I am not just some girl he would fuck around with for fun then leave eventually the same way you did.”

She grew self-conscious underneath his studying gaze, but she continued. “He made me realize that love is not supposed to hurt. That love could be both grand gestures and courtly affections and the small, everyday grind of life. I love his sunny disposition, his positive outlook on things, his delicacy and mannerisms. I even love his flaws. I love what he does for me and I love who I am when I love him back.”

“Anything Aegir does, I can do, too, Byleth.” The redhead petulantly pointed out.

“No, Sylvain” The woman sighed as she approached him, placing her hands on his shoulders so she could look him directly in the eye. “Love is not a matter of being able to serve and do things for the other person, it is not about the uncertainty of being servile enough that you feel entitled to it. I hope you will come to realize it when she find the same kind of love that I did.”

She pulled away, turning to leave, when she heard his all-to-familiar nickname for her leave his mouth. “Dear?”

Goddess above, did she hate the fact that her muscle memory had reacted, turning to him immediately at the name she had reserved only for each other over the years. The frown on her face told him she did not appreciate it when he called her that anymore, but he continued anyway.

“Please do not use this name on him.” There was a sad smile on his face, all traces of hopefulness gone. He has given up. “I can stand seeing both of you together, seeing you kiss as if you thought no one was looking, but I do not think I could stand hearing your voice call him the way you used to call me.”

There was silence in the air again, because how does one go about responding to a request such as that?

“I will make sure to keep that in mind until you are ready to let go, Sylvain.” She offered her own smile.

Leaning up, she leaves a lingering kiss on his cheek, his eyes fluttering close knowing it was a bid farewell.

Not waiting for an answer, Byleth left, eyes shutting as guilt filled her stomach the moment when she heard his pained sob echo through the lonely room as she shut the door behind her.

As the morning came, the Gautier heir had left the monastery and returned to his territory to the north. He would be wed before the season went out, hoping to find out what “getting over” love even means.

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist