#even if you only come away with another banging soundtrack

[link-of-time80]

To people on the fence about watching and/or reading the Wheel of Time

If you love the vibe of BotW (post-apocalyptic wilderness taking over forgotten battlefields; villages and people's traditions unknowingly echoing forgotten ancestors of civilisations long past)

or even the whole Legend of Zelda™️ thing (gannondorf, zelda, link inescapable destiny and reincarnation)

PLEASE give the Wheel of Time a chance, it's defiantly worth it

[denaliwrites]

Run Rabbit Run

Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader

Summary: (18+) Cale loves a good chase.

Soundtrack: Run Rabbit Run by Flanagan & Allen

Requests: Open!

Warnings: It's Cale Erendreich and it's smut. Knifeplay, Bloodplay, Primal Play, Restraints, CNC. Very brief choking.

Your heart hammered erratically in your chest, a wild songbird beating against its cage for a freedom it could never have -- a freedom that'd kill it.

You could feel trickles of blood dripping down your arms and the stinging pain of the seeping cuts forced a choked sob from your throat.

The sound of a door opening nearby startled you into stillness, body pressing deeper into the darkest corner you could find. You willed your body to hold silent for just a minute, just until you heard footsteps receding.

You received no such luck, and it was getting harder and harder to repress your body's instinctive urges.

"You better fucking run," Cale called from the end of the hall. "If I catch you, I'm going to fucking gut you like the little bunny you are. You hear me?"

Oh, you heard him. Loud and clear.

Finally, you heard the sound of him going down the stairs. You waited another minute, then carefully crawled from your hiding place.

You just needed to reach the front door. You just needed to get out of the house. That's all you had to do.

You stopped at the door, listening as carefully as your fear-addled brain would allow, for any signs he'd come back. Hearing only silence, you turned the knob at a torturously slow pace, and cracked the door open just as slowly.

This was a mistake.

It creaked just before it was wide enough for you to slip through, and somewhere below you a foot stomped. You imagined Cale turning, trying to pinpoint where exactly upstairs that sound had emanated from. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Having given your position away, you stood quickly and slammed the door shut behind you, but padded carefully to the end of the hall. You looked over the banister, watching him turn towards the stairs.

He hadn't seen you yet.

Silently, you padded past the stairs, opening the door closest to them and slipping inside just as his footsteps started ascending.

You realized when you turned around that you were in a bedroom.

It was... sterile. Pristine. There was no decor, only a white nightstand beside a plain bed with white covers. The walls were white. There was no closet for you to hide in, but the bed had space underneath it. If you needed to, you could hide.

Instead, you turned to the door, pressing your ear to it. You could hear him at the other end of the hallway, checking rooms.

Slowly, delicately, you pulled the door open to peek outside.

He wasn't looking in your direction, hadn't seemed to notice the door opening.

You seized your opportunity. You threw the door open with a bang and darted down the stairs, not even caring that he'd heard you and was now chasing after you. You had the advantage, you could see the front door and were in the clear.

You were two bounds away from freedom when Cale's impossibly solid arm wrapped tightly around your throat, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

Nails dug into his arm, scrabbling in a desperate bid for both air and freedom.

"Oh, you were so close," he purred into your ear, licking the shell tauntingly.

The gravity of the situation fueled you, and with a rush of adrenaline, you sent your elbow up into his ribcage. He shouted in pain and dropped to his knees, and when his arm was no longer around your neck you made a break for it.

"Not so fucking fast," he growled. His hand wrapped around your ankle and you went tumbling down.

You expected it to hurt more, but you realized that he'd padded your fall -- and in fact, the whole floor -- with fluffy white rugs.

This man really did prepare for every eventuality.

He climbed up your body, flipping you over once his hand reached your shoulder. "That was a valiant effort," he praised you, his voice still edged with a note of predatory delight. "But I'll take my reward, now."

Tears sprang to your eyes in anticipation as the metallic glint of his knife caught your attention. It was there and then it was gone, and you didn't need the searing pain that followed to tell you where it had gone.

"I told you I was gonna gut you," he sighed as a trail of blood dribbled from the fresh cut along your belly to the white rug underneath you. "What a beautiful little bunny you are, bleeding for me."

You sobbed in pain as he made a perfectly symmetrical slice into the opposite side of your belly, yet even as you did you felt a jolt of arousal reach between your thighs.

"Oh, what was that?" he teased mercilessly, the tip of his knife trailing down your gut to press dangerously against your underwear. "Does this excite you, bunny?"

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reply, of you admitting --

"Answer me!" he roared, blade digging in even more.

With a pitiful moan, you cried, "Yes! God, yes!"

You could feel your excitement pooling in the pit of your stomach, and by the appreciative sound he made, you suspected Cale could see just what effect he was having on you.

"Oh, bunny," he sighed in praise, smirking as his knife trailed away from the apex of your thighs and down, slicing little rivulets into the delicate skin of your inner thighs, blood dripping down onto the rug below.

Your thighs were shaking, both from the pain and in the effort to keep them open, to keep yourself exposed to him. For your efforts he placed a tender kiss to your knee, then trailed several more down your thigh until he reached the waistband of your underwear.

"I don't think you need these anymore," he said casually, before using his knife to cut them apart. You whimpered as the cold metal touched your skin, as the fabric of your underwear fell away uselessly.

"That's a good bunny," he praised you again, leaning forward so that he could kiss you fully on the lips. You tasted your blood on him, felt his smirk as you moaned when the coppery tang flooded your senses.

"I wonder," he started, tone playful, "if I can make you cum with this." He held the knife up for you to see, and you eyed it warily, though you also couldn't help the pleased little shudder that coursed through you at the sight of it stained with your blood.

"P-please, Cale," you begged in a whimper. You weren't even sure what you were begging for.

"Roll over," he commanded suddenly, and you obeyed like the good little pet you were. His hands were delicate as they took hold of your arms, carefully bending them so that they were behind your back. You heard him undoing his tie, and a moment later your hands were tied tightly.

"C-Cale," you whined, testing the restraint. "Cale--"

"Shut up," he barked, and your words immediately died on your tongue.

He moved so that he was kneeling over you, knee pressing down into your back, and it felt like he was putting all his weight into it.

Desperate, fearful, electric pants rocked your body as your lungs clawed for more air, but he didn't let up, even as your vision blurred around the edges.

Just when you couldn't take anymore, just when you were mere moments from passing out, he finally eased up, and faster than you could process you were back on your back, arms pinned beneath you.

He laughed as you took great gulping gasps of breath.

You'd barely caught your breath when his knife cut into your skin again, making you keen as twin cuts sprang forth along your previously untouched thigh. "Cale," you gasped, hips rolling for his attention.

"In time," he promised you.

"Please," you begged. "Please..."

You wanted him inside you, filling you, fucking you.

The look he gave you was contemplative. But you could see you weren't winning him over -- not yet.

"D-don't you want to... to claim your prize?" you asked, hips twitching eagerly as another cut sent another jolt of pleasure down.

"... What do you think I'm doing right now?" he deadpanned.

"Y-you're gutting me," you whined. "But it's not the same. You know it's not. Claim me, Cale."

That did it. You saw the change in his eyes, the hunger, the predatory drive.

You heard the unbuckling of his belt and had to bite back the triumphant smirk that threatened to ruin it all.

His hands wandered up your bloody thighs, smearing the red all over you and wetting his hands with it. You knew what he was doing, and it only served to send more electric pleasure down your spine.

You gasped as two of his fingers entered you, stretching you and preparing you for his cock. Felt the still-warm blood coating your insides.

"Fuck, Cale," you whimpered desperately.

"I'm getting to that," he chuckled darkly.

And, indeed, he was. Once he was satisfied that you were wet enough to take him, he wasted no time pressing his cock into you. A sharp thrust of his hips sent it in to the hilt, and you keened as the feeling of him filling you sent you over the edge.

He grunted as your body constricted around him, walls squeezing tightly around his cock.

"Oh, God," you moaned as you came down, pants of exertion breezing past your lips.

"That was quick," he sighed, though there was no trace of annoyance or anger in his tone. And it didn't stop him from using you as a cocksleeve, anyway.

His hips pulled back, eliciting a moan he found rather delicious, even more so as it drew out into a cry when he snapped his hips back into your own.

"Cale, I'm gonna--"

"So soon?" he asked teasingly, and you only gave a pouty huff in response. "I must've--" he cut himself off with a sharp thrust, "really done a number on you this time."

You looked up at him with hazy, love drunk eyes that quickly lost focus as his cock hit something particularly sensitive inside you and you squealed, contracting around him in shock and pleasure.

"Ooh, I gotta keep doing that," he chuckled wickedly, and sure enough, on his next thrust he made sure to hit the same angle, and you squealed again, walls constricted again.

He wasn't delicate in his fucking after finding that spot. In fact, he rather brutally pounded at that same place, over and over, and if you hadn't been so lost in your building orgasm you'd think that you were probably gonna be very sore in the morning.

With a few savage final thrusts, you felt warmth as Cale spilled his seed inside you, and you tumbled over the edge with him, crying out in ecstasy as you came again.

He pet your hair as you came down, withdrawing only once he was sure you were done. You were barely aware of him pulling you up, of him undoing the tie around your wrists, or of him picking you up and carrying you up the stairs to his bedroom.

The last thought you had before sleep claimed you was how you couldn't wait for Cale to hunt you down again.

[honeybeefae]

Let's start off with a bang! 69 😏

(The first number I got was 69, and while I know we all hoped it was spicy, y’all got FLUFF AND ANGST INSTEAD. And yes, this is the song from Encanto and yes it is one of my faves. I sing it to my daughter almost every night 🥹)

#69 - Two Oruguitas by Sebastian Yatra (Encanto Soundtrack)

Life Finds A Way (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Summary// Growing up together, Eris was your closest friend. The two of you went through everything together and more often than not if one of you were somewhere, the other wasn’t far behind. However, when Amarantha comes to your court and begins to ensnare everyone, Eris forces you back and tells you to run and never look back. Now, after fifty-odd years, you have tracked back to your home, hoping to find him.

WARNINGS: Mentions of fighting, blood

“I can’t decide on which one to wear…” You mused to yourself, switching between two different outfits for dinner tonight. They both looked amazing on you, both beautiful in their own way, but it was impossible to choose. “If I do this one I could wear that necklace but this one-”

“Oh for Cauldron’s sake Y/N, are you still deciding?” A teasing voice groaned from the doorway, your eyes rolling at your best friend’s question. “It’s just a dinner, there’s no need to act like you are getting betrothed.”

You smirked, setting down the outfits on your bed, before turning around with your head cocked to the side. “At least if I were, my fiance wouldn’t have to worry about me showing up with my laces undone.” You snarked back, laughing when Eris’s eyes widened, and he fumbled with the top of his pants. 

It was a lie, of course, but you snatched one of the outfits and ran to the bathroom before he could grab you to torment you. The door slammed shut on him, and he playfully hit it with his fist, fighting the urge to smile at your antics. “You think you’re so funny, little fox.”

After a couple of minutes, you opened the door, dressed and ready for the night, and patted his cheek condescendingly. “No, I know I am funny.”

He shook his head and offered you his arm, leading the two of you out of your room and towards the dining hall. “You keep fidgeting. Are you nervous?”

“For Amarantha? No. She’s harmless and is actually doing well opening up the trade routes. I’m just wondering if the other dress would’ve looked better…” You sigh as you fiddled with the lace of your sleeve, missing the look that flashed in Eris’s eyes.

Both of you stopped just outside of the door and before you could take another step, he pulled you back by his side. The action caused you to look up at him, startled, only to immediately melt at his words.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. Anything would look good on you.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment and you had to look away so that he didn’t catch you trying to calm your breathing, mumbling a quiet “Thank you.” before leading the way inside.

The music was soft and melodic as you both parted ways to opposite ends of the dining table, smiling and acknowledging the other high members of the court as you took your seat. Amarantha was at the head with Lord Beron, Lady of the Autumn Court, and the rest of their family. 

Dinner was served promptly and it looked delicious, everyone digging in as the conversations kept moving from subject to subject. Eris kept sending you glances, which you returned shyly, as the night went on. It was almost time for dessert when the Emissary of Hybern stood abruptly, raising her glass and toasting to the Lord of Autumn.

“To your lord, who serves his court pridefully as well as his interests. May we have many more years of trade and peace.” Amarantha said sweetly, her hooded eyes watching Beron carefully as he savoured the ego stroke with a long sip of wine.

Everyone toasted but before you could even let the wine hit your tongue, you noticed your Lord struggling to speak. His glass fell from his grip, shattering on the floor, as he felt his power slipping away from him. You watched his skin change to a cooler tone, his body sagging as if it couldn’t even hold his own weight, while Amarantha laughed gleefully.

“What’s wrong, Beron? Choking on your own ambition? Or is it mine?” She snarled as Eris and his brothers immediately went to attack. Beron tried to send out a flame but all that came from his hand was a small tuft of smoke, his mouth agape in horror as well as everyone else’s.

She had stolen his power.

“Now boys, you know you are no match for me,” Amarantha chided as she sent them flying back with a wave of her hand, the doors to the dining hall bursting open to reveal a massive army of fae who were armed to the teeth. “Or my army. I would surrender now if I were you, Lord Beron.”

Beron stared at her with a gaze that could kill, his mouth tight as he used what was left of his strength to grab a nearby knife and slice her arm. She hissed, watching the blood stream down her dress, before the wound healed quickly.

“You retched whore, I will have your head for this.” Beron swore as he lunged again. Amarantha was faster though, dodging his attack and pinning his arm behind his head so that the knife was now pressed to his neck.

“Take the Lord and his family, kill the rest.” She ordered her army, not even sparing a glance to the innocent faes that were now running to escape. The armoured fae were quick to the slaughter, blood splattering across the walls as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening. 

“Run!” Eris’s voice cut through the chaos, your eyes meeting his in utter fear. You swiftly rose from your seat and looked to one of the windows, your heart pounding in your chest as you began to weave and dodge through the mass of bodies and swords. 

The air was burning in your lungs as adrenaline pumped through your body. You ducked down as one of her men tried to take your head, sliding underneath his legs as the window became closer and closer. It was becoming quieter and quieter as all of your family and friends became collateral to whatever Amarantha was starting, and you knew your window of opportunity was closing rapidly.

You used all your strength to break through the balcony windows, not even noticing the sting of the glass against your skin as you grabbed onto the ledge to try and swing out over the roaring waterfall below you. 

Time seemed to slow down as you turned to cast one last look of the massacare behind you, stomach churning violently before you saw Eris being hoisted up by one of the men. His eyes were panicked, searching the bodies for yours, until he landed on your shadowy figure hanging on by a thread. 

Every fiber of your being wanted to help him, to try and free him for whatever hell was about to endure, but Eris shook his head and mouthed, “Go. Now.” as the guard turned to follow his gaze.

It felt as if your very soul was being snatched from your heart as you blinked away the tears, closing your eyes and whispering, “I’ll find you, Eris.” before you let your hand open and you fell into the rigid waters below. Two of her men barely missed you, watching your body hit the water forcefully, before deciding you good as dead and turning back inside. 

As your body became swallowed by the falls, you were going in and out of consciousness. The impact had hurt you greatly. It felt like you had been slammed into a wall of cement and as you continued to struggle against the waves and churning of it, your air was beginning to run out.

You could feel the seconds tick by as you desperately tried to break to the surface, your muscles screaming in protest, and a small part of you wondered if you should just let it end here. Whatever was happening in Pyrthian was just the beginning and with everything you had just lost, what was the point? Where could you go?

The thoughts had you pulling back your strength, your eyes closing in acceptance, before Eris’s face flashed vividly in your mind. He was still alive, being marched to Cauldron knows where, but he was alive.

And as long as he was, you were too.

Your eyes opened in fierce determintation as you reached out for the surface once more, your hand wrapping around the branch of a tree as you pulled yourself up and onto the river bank with your last, gasping breath.

The river roaring behind you seemed to be all you could hear as you took in as much air as you could, laying face down in the sharp pebbles while regaining your strength.

Time was an illusion as you rolled onto your back, staring into the night sky as small shivers started to shake your body. The moon was high in the sky and you realized that you were in the middle of the forest, with no supplies, and close to freezing to death.

Pushing yourself up on unsteady legs you began to make your trek through the forest, finding a small cave where you hunkered down for the night as you lit a fire to keep you warm. The forest was alive with sound, crickets chirping and foxes hunting, as if it had no knowledge of what was happening around it.

You took comfort in that, in how life survived even in times like these. The Earth was resilient and as of now, you would have to be too. You needed to become more than a pretty fae in court. 

You had to become a weapon if you were going to survive.

51 Years Later

Every night you thought about Eris, your family and friends, and that hateful witch who had taken over. You could never stay in a place too long, disgusing yourself as a mercenary in the mortal lands to avoid getting caught by one of Amarantha’s henchmen, but you never forget where you came from. 

At first you had planned to attack her and her men in the middle of the nights, spying on them like Eris had taught you when he took you on hunting trips, but it fell apart when you realized the gravity of the situation. 

She hadn’t just taken Beron’s powers…she had taken everyones. Within a few weeks she had control over all of Pyrthian and had taken refuge Under The Mountain where the horrors of her court were whispered in taverns and castles. 

You had quickly realized you could not take her down, not alone, and the one time you had tried to organzie a rebellion they had turned on each other and almost caused you to be caught. 

So you became normal, doing menial tasks for poor pay in order to survive in hopes of one day avenging your court and family. It was what kept you going. Hope was all you had left.

It wasn’t until a few months ago you heard that some human girl, Feyre, had bravely gone and beaten Amarantha and her entire group of vermin. She had died in the battle but with the newly returned powers of all of the High Lords, she had been Made again as a faerie. 

Most of the mortals scoffed at the idea of it, seeing her as a traitor more than a martyr, but what little fae you knew in the mortal lands regarded her as a saviour. 

Feyre Cursebreaker was what they called her, a fitting name for her deeds. Some of your aquantinces had started to make their trip back to the wall to see if it was true, something you hadn’t had the guts to do, only to never be heard from again.

That could only mean two things and with all the hell you had been through, you assumed the worst. Until one night, while drinking cheap wine, you heard his name.

“Eris is sure to fit in for his father when the time comes. Beron already showed his weakness when everything happened, it was the reason Amarantha chose him to start with, and his sons pridefulness is just like his.” One of the dark haired fae stated beside you, scoffing. 

“What did you say?” You turned to ask, voice low and slightly desperate. “Are they back in the Autumn Court?”

The two fae gave you a long stare, probably taking note of your autumnesque features, before chuckling. “They’ve been back, kid. Have you not heard about Feyre Cursebreaker? She-”

“Of course I’ve heard of her. I just didn’t know if it was mere gossip or if she actually freed them.” You retorted snarkily, frowning at them as they shook their heads at your words. “But it is true?”

“Yes, as is our words about Beron and his bastard sons.” The dark hair oned huffed, sneering at the thought of them. “I would keep your distance from the Autumn Court, girl, even if it is where you hail from. That mountain changed everyone.”

You looked down at your wine, the dark scarlet swirling around just like it had that night. The screams of your friends, Eris’s deseperate plea, it was like the glass was taunting you into reliving it over again. It seemed to know you were too scared to go back and face what happened.

But as you looked out the window and into the warm, sunny day, you thought back to that first night in the cave. Everything around you had adapted to life but that didn’t mean it stopped there, it changed every day and sometimes…sometimes it took leaps of faith.

The two fae watched as you slammed money down and headed outside, shrugging their shoulders at your stubbornness. You brushed past everyone with little regard, eyes dead set on the wall that was growing closer with each step.

It was as ominous as you remembered, vibrating with magical energy. Your bravery faltered in the fear of the unknown but you pushed past it, steeling yourself as you walked through and into the warm air of the Spring Court. You braced yourself for someone to strike you down, for your throat to be slashed or stomach slit, but it never came.

Instead all you heard was peace. The birds were singing, the sun warm on your skin, and it was like the land was welcoming you back. You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled in your chest as you sank to the ground and buried your fingers into the earth. 

You could feel it healing, could feel it singing in praise as the past became the past. It made you giddy with excitement and without a moment to lose, you threw off your tattered cloak and began your trek to the Autumn Court. 

Hours flew by and for the first time in forever, you couldn’t feel it. The only emotion that was occurring was hope as the border got closer. Trees started to turn orange and red, the familiar wind of Autumn wrapping around you like a warm hug. 

And when you made the final step into the forest…you felt tranquility. After fifty one years, you were home. You were where you belonged. It was a feeling you wish you could bottle up and keep forever.

A twig snapped behind you and you whipped around to see an Autumn Court sentry, his arrow pointed directly at you. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” He yelled, eyes as cold as stone.

Before you could explain yourself, instinct took over and you took off. The arrow flew past your head but from your time in the woods, you knew exactly where to go. People were shouting behind you, hounds howling as they started to track you, but you were running on utter impulse.

No one could catch you, not even their trained dogs, as you slid down to the river bank and leapt across the roaring waters. The logical part of your brain was begging you to stop and explain but you couldn’t risk it, weaving between the trees until you were sure you had lost them.

Your back hit the large oak behind you with a thud as you caught your breath, listening for any sounds. It was quiet though, not even the hounds barking, and when you turned to peak around the trunk you felt a burning fire wrap around your legs and drag you out of your hiding spot.

“No! No! Let me go!” You screamed, thrashing erratically as you came to a stop and a large, warm hand hoisted you up roughly by your shoulders. “I swear on the Mother I will-”

“Y/N?” Eris said in disbelief, eyebrows furrowed in shock as you stared into those eyes that had kept you company all these years. 

He was alive and standing before you, his grip unbelievably tight as you felt hot tears well in your eyes. Your mouth opened and closed for a moment, relief and disbelief mixing in a confusing cocktail.

“Eris…” You breathed, the tears now flowing freely. “It is you.”

The binds of fire vanished around your legs as he pulled you into a crushing hug, breathing in the scent of your hair as you broke down in his arms. You tried to touch every part of him, feeling the muscles in his back before moving to grasp his hair. 

Words could not describe what you were feeling, what he was feeling, but they were not needed. The wind picked up around the two of you, leaves twirling around in a dance of harmony as you both sunk to your knees and held each other for who knows how long.

Any questions either of you had were on the back burner. For now, you wanted to stay in this moment with him forever. 

[agentnico]

The Fall Guy (2024) review

Reynolds is Free Guy. Gosling is Fall Guy. These Ryans are just such guys!!

Plot: After leaving the business one year earlier, battle-scarred stuntman Colt Seavers springs back into action when the star of a big studio movie suddenly disappears. As the mystery surrounding the missing actor deepens, Colt soon finds himself ensnared in a sinister plot that pushes him to the edge of a fall more dangerous than any stunt.

Ryan Gosling needs to do more comedies. Whether he’s the charming womaniser in Crazy, Stupid, Love, a bumbling private eye in The Nice Guys, a Wall Street snob in The Big Short or finding his inner Kenergy in Barbie, the dude’s got jokes. Not taking away anything from his stoic tortured turns in Drive and Blade Runner 2049, but I’m really enjoying this current Gosling trend of embracing the funny guy persona, as he’s easily a bonafide comedic star. His new studio vehicle The Fall Guy is yet another breezy, light-hearted entertainment given life by Gosling and co-star’s Emily Blunt’s wry comic timing.

Coming to us from director David Leitch, who’s had great success with action films the likes of John Wick and Bullet Train, he delivers here a true love-letter to the craft of stuntmen, with the crazy risks they take and how much work goes behind creating that spectacular action shot that is then seemlessly enjoyed by audiences on the big screen. And there are truly some incredible stunts showcased throughout this movie, and most of it being fully practical with only the smallest amount of CGI used. Its top notch action, with flawless camera work and some great cinematography that pays respect and also pokes fun at certain filmmaking techniques and cliches with a certain memorable sequence involving a very well choreographed split-screen scene. This boosted by a great soundtrack that includes a solid dose of Taylor Swift, I mean it’s perfect early summer blockbuster fun.

The plot is suitably nonsense (as fitting given its 1980s TV origins). Don't think too hard about it. If you ponder questions such as: what about the other witnesses? Can you recover from a broken back to that extent in 18 months? Would he have reported a crime that he was being framed for? When he goes through real windscreens, falls long distances onto hard surfaces, etc., how does he not break any bones? And so on.... well, it will spoil your fun. You can really easily knit-pick the hell out of this movie, but I’m sorry, I’m too busy listening to Ryan Gosling throwing one liners like “I’m gonna beat the shit out of him” multiple times to care for any logic or narrative prowess.

Speaking of Gosling, him and Blunt are the primary reason to see The Fall Guy. These two are both hilarious with their timing and delivery, however more-so they share this incredible chemistry that reminded me a lot of romantic comedies of the early 2000s, and it was truly delightful seeing a real rom-com that’s actually good in 2024! Honestly, even in moments of no dialogue, just when they're looking at each other, you'll know well enough they’re holding back so hard to not just snog the living skin off one another. Like these two want to bang. People were freaking over Glen Powell and Sydney Sweeney last year, well they can move over as Gosling and Blunt are now the new power couple! My apologies to their real life partners John Krasinski and Eva Mendes.

Look, The Fall Guy is in no way a masterpiece, but it’s super enjoyable and such a delightful watch where everyone is having a fantastic time. Shout out to other cast members Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Hannah Waddingham and Winston Duke all on top form. If you want an easy watch and a perfect date movie - you know what to do. As for me, I just really need Ryan Gosling to play a cool, down-bad simp every year in order to live.

Overall score: 7/10

[friendlyneighborhoodcapricorn]

hey! can i have a grishaverse matchup? i’m bisexual but i prefer men and use she/they pronouns.

personality: i’m an isfp. i’m a bit reserved at first and it takes a while for me to trust people, but once i do i’m a bit more free spirited. i’m passionate, creative, independent, stubborn, and curious. i’m very protective over the people i care about. my sense of humor is sarcastic and i like teasing people. i love reading, martial arts (i really like training with weapons and fighting), writing, piano, theater, art, singing, watching tv (mainly anime), and nature. i dabble in video games but only every now and then because i suck- like a lot. music is a really big part of me. my favorite genres are indie, soundtracks/movie scores, and rock. whenever someone mentions something i like i’ll start rambling and get carried away. my love language is a mix of intellect, quality time, and acts of service. touch is reserved for very few people and mostly in private.

appearance: i’m 5 ft tall, tan skin, dark brown eyes, and soft facial features. i have thick black shoulder length hair and choppy curtain bangs. i wear 1-2 strands of hair in small braids. i’m a bit toned and somewhat lean from training. my aesthetic is mainly citycore/academia but sometimes i’ll mix it up depending on my mood. I like to wear gold jewelry, especially rings. I don’t really wear makeup but every now and then I’ll so some simple eyeliner. i really enjoy dressing up.

thank you!!

Hi! Thanks for the request <3

I would match you with...

Nikolai Lantsov

I saw the combination of martial arts and theater, and my decision was made lol

Someone who can fight ánd appreciates his dramatics for what they are (a form of art, obviously)? Yes!

You two can have an entire conversation by just teasing each other.

Now, Nikolai is a busy guy, so you just know that when he spends time with you, he went out of his way to make time for you.

You're both creative, so I can picture him coming up with another invention and going to you to help him sort out which ideas will work and which probably won't (not that that actually stops him)

He really pays attention to what you say, even if you're just rambling about a book you liked or your favourite weapon. He listens to all of it, and he remembers, because you can bet that for your next birthday, he gets you that book you've been talking about getting for weeks

There you have it! I hope you enjoyed this, and have a wonderful day/night :)

[cityofdreams-writing]

I Will Always Wait

Rating: M

Pairing: Bang Chan x M!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Lots of angst, major feels, major character death, death, sadness, no swearing for once. I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything.

Author: @cityofdreams-writing

Description: You find out that your boyfriend is being forced to marry...but you know you will wait for him forever.

Notes: This was the prompt:

"WARNING: MENTION OF SUICIDE. I was just sitting alone and cant get this angst idea out of my mind: The idol (top) is a rich heir and the reader (bottom) is just a commoner. The idol was forced by his family to get married and need to break up with the reader. The reader was so sad but he managed to say, "i will wait for you till i'm 30. If you dont find me by then, i will move on and find another guy" (lets say rn they are 24). The reader wait year after year. And then his 30th birthday almost come. 10 minutes before 12 am, he committed suicide, as if declaring that he will wait for the idol forever as he will never be 30. Gosh, this kind of story always makes my heart goes brr. Wish someone write a fic using this idea PLEASE REBLOG UNTIL A WRITER DECIDES TO WRITE THIS FIC IM BEGGING YALL 😭"

@pervy-az I hope this satisfies you, but I apologize if it seems rushed, I wrote this at like 3 AM last night so bear with me please lmao. Thanks for the prompt!

Also, annyeonghaseyo yowrobun (Hello everyone), I'm finally back, feeling a little better (mentally, physically I am sick right now lmao), and back with a story. No, I'm not coming off hiatus right now, as I don't really feel ready yet to continue the series I have going, or the request that I have pending right now. But I hope you do enjoy this.

Soundtrack: Click!

"(Y/N)..."

"(Y/N)?"

"(Y/N)!!"

You woke with a gasp. Your brother, Lee Felix, or Lixie, as you called him, tapped his foot angrily. His clothes were all dirty and ripped again...you sighed internally.

"I'm up, I'm up, hyung." You sleepily grumbled and raked a hand through your already-wild curls, messing it up even more with your hand.

"Come on. Eomma said we had to go shopping." Felix rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, not again." You groaned at the mere thought of going with your brother for the third time this week to the stinky market.

"Get ready, Seungmin and I be waiting for you downstairs, 'kay?" With that, Felix shut the door softly behind him as he left.

You stood there for a moment, your shoulders slumping as you considered your fate.

You groaned, dragging yourself to the bathroom and cleaning yourself up.

You headed downstairs and gave your mom a sleepy hug, which she graciously accepted, chuckling at your groggy state.

You headed out with your brothers with the promise to be back in a maximum of two hours.

You talked and smiled with your brothers all the way to the market, where a hooded figure yanked you by your dirty sleeve into a shaded alleyway, not noticing how shabby the alley actually looked.

Not knowing who it was, you pushed the figure to the ground and snarled at a filthy vendor trying to sell you some suspicious looking plants.

The vendor backed away, whimpering at your ferocious temper.

"Show yourself." You growled lowly, yanking the person to their feet. The person didn't resist as they were manhandled by you. In fact, they seemed almost…melancholy. Or despairing.

The figure removed their hood, revealing…your boyfriend.

Christopher Bang.

The boy all the girls wanted, and if there were boys who were straight within a one-mile radius, Chris could make them fall in love with him with just a look. He was beautiful, handsome, and he could speak eloquently.

Guess who he was.

The prince. The rich heir to the throne. Since he was the only child in the family, he got everything.

But…that came with a few disadvantages.

Soft lips brushed over yours, surprising you at first and pulling you out of your thoughts, but then you closed your eyes as you cradled his soft cheek and slowly sunk into the kiss, and he pulled you close, wrapping his muscular arms around your neck.

He sighed as he pulled away, hugging you and resting his head on your chest (you were taller than him).

"Baby…I missed you…" Your words were soft as you gently stroked his pretty golden hair, playing with the strands between your fingers.

Chris smiled sadly. "I missed you too, love…but…I have bad news, and I don't want to hide this any longer."

You quirked an eyebrow. What could possibly be going wrong?

"As you know, Mum and Dad don't know that we're in a relationship…"

"Mhm?"

"T-they're forcing me to get married to a girl from another kingdom. They say it's gonna be good for the family…" Chris broke off, in tears at this point.

You were shocked, and it showed, but you weren't angry. It wasn't his fault anyway. "How long, Chris? How long have you been hiding it?"

His head fell, trying to swipe away the tears away fruitlessly.

”T-two months…I don’t even like the girl! I'm so sorry baby, we have to break up, I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore…"

You tore up, muffling your sobs in his hair. You didn't know about this, but you were not mad at all, just sad and shocked.

Your voice cracked and warbled, but you managed to say something and break the heavy silence between you two.

"Tell you what, Chris…I-I will wait for you until I'm 30. If you don't find me by then, I will find someone else and move on. Okay?" You wiped your tears away, and his too.

"O-okay…I am so sorry, (Y/N)…"

"It's okay, Prince Bang, I understand. Goodbye." You smiled a forlorn smile, kissing his head one last time, hiding your tears as you walked away and disappeared into the crowd. He hated that title that you had used on him.

That was your last kiss with him.

You acted like you were okay all the way through the shopping trip, hiding everything in your heart, and then you went home with them. They went their separate ways to do their chores, and you broke down.

Your mom knew that you were dating the prince, so when you explained why your eyes were red and puffy, she put down her sewing kit and held you in her arms like you were a baby until you were exhausted from crying. She knew you loved him a lot.

"Eomma, why is love so painful?" You sniffled, curling up in your mother's lap.

"I don't know, (Y/N)-ie…trust me, if I knew, I would tell you…I mean, I went through a lot of pain when I lost your father…" She trailed off, her hands stopping the soothing stroking of your hair, the memory seeming too painful for her to breach.

It was much of the same for six years. Cry every time you saw the palace, try to forget, wallow in the pain, act like you were fine…

Six years later, your 30th birthday was coming up. In 10 minutes, actually. 11:50 PM, you looked at the time. You sprinted up to your bedroom, where you quickly and shakily penned a note to your family through your tears. You left it in the room, and climbed out of the window, up to the roof.

"See? He forgot you. You should have just moved on…you knew this would happen. What's the point of living now? You were stupid because love blinded you to see what was happening! Such an idiot."

Your head clouded with negative thoughts, and yet…

You forced a smile through your tears, which were wetting your chin at this point.

"I will always wait for you, baby." You whispered softly to the silent night.

Five minutes before the clock struck 12, you were gone.

When the prince, now king, found out that you had died a few hours later, on your birthday, he mourned for you, crying for hours on end, wanting to save you.

The same night, at 6:35 AM, just as the sun started to rise, he joined you in heaven.

"You don’t have to wait for me anymore, love, I'm here now."

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

[honeyatsu]

Loner [Junpei x f!reader] 3

warnings: minor mentions of bullying, minor blood.

Summary:

Junpei was suspicious of you. He always felt the world was filled with people who were naturally evil in some way, until you came into his life and challenged his theory.

crossposted here

masterlist

unorganized soundtrack

The sky’s the limit – a feeling that felt so far away to you, finally came back after years, while being at the top of the cheer pyramid, the crowd cheering you on for your team; for you as you strike the high-V pose, smiling at the crowd. It used to be scary, having to be at the very top, being the flyer, having to deny your body to react to the natural fatigue of bouncing around, repeating the same memorized routine, stunts, and cheers – only showing a smile and perfectly synched show to the crowd.

It used to be scary, having to trust your team to be able to hold you without dropping you. It was scary being brought into an environment where you were a part of a team, having only done sports where you would rely on yourself and your trained skills alone. To have a team where trust was such an important part of making things work, being at each other’s mercy when tossing you into the air, was horrifying to say the least. The act of trusting itself is scary.

Your eyes scanned the crowd slowly, subconsciously blurring them all out, it felt weird seeing all those eyes on you from that up high. Taking deep breathes you tried to steady your breathing, focus on being still and present and not let your mind wander because anything that goes wrong could lead to you falling down and being the cause of your team’s loss.

If you were being honest, you hated cheer – at least you did in the beginning. Admittedly, you were done with sports. You’ve been done with sports for a while, it’s not that you hated pushing your body past it’s limits, it’s not like you didn’t enjoy getting stronger, faster, more resilient.

But while being at the very top, while catching your breath and trying to be as still as you physically could, you couldn’t help but feel the excitement bubbling up in your chest by thinking about sitting with that black leathered sketchpad and a pencil. Honestly, a few years down the line, you found a new passion. The moment your pencil stroked along the first paper of the new sketch pad you’d gotten for your thirteenth birthday, you were hooked. It almost felt ludicrous, as if you’d be a part of an affair. Dedicating so much of your youth to athleticism, that being all you knew, your passion was led elsewhere while sitting on your bed with the fondest memory of your father teaching you basic sketching techniques.

But then are moments like this – the way the crowd would cheer for you, your team, the bright eyes beaming at you do what not everyone is willing to work hard enough to do, seeing the admiration of younger girls in the crowd, this feeling was enough for you too.

(You remember after your first martial art tournament, a young girl no older than the age of nine years old came up to you, saying when she grows up, she wants to be strong like you. Strong, that’s a word you would have never used to describe yourself as, but if sports are what brought the trait out of you, just leaving would be leaving a piece of you behind you weren’t sure you’d get back.)

You knew you would cause a minor deduction for your team, looking down at the dangling gold chain that slipped out of your cheer top, not keeping the eyes on the crowd for a mere few seconds can cause a strain in performance points along with the noticeable uniform violation. Mentally cursing yourself, you shot your head back up as you were thrown up in the air, performing the stunt known as the basket toss before landing on the ground. As soon as your feet touched the ground a familiar feeling of anxiousness flowed throughout your body like a stream, being done and awaiting the results were almost horrifying for you – knowing your small distraction could be marked as a huge slip-up. One thing you’ve gotten from being an athlete is you’re expected no less than perfection and being so new to this specific sport, you weren’t sure you were able to offer that, but it didn’t hurt your ego any less.

Waiting was the hard part – and that could be said for your entire team.

The motions of you and your teammates chest were shaky and slow, holding on to each other’s hands as you waited for them to announce first place. In your mind, the crowd was becoming larger while your team shrunk as their eager eyes gazed upon you, almost as nerve-wrecked to hear the results like you; every passing second, your team felt smaller and smaller. The saliva in your mouth becoming sticky and thick, rolling your tongue around trying run from the dry feeling surrounding your mouth. Your free hand subconsciously made way to the uniformed skirt, squeezing tight to the fabric– anything to physically release the unease churning in your stomach. For a moment everything was silent, you were so nervous that you put the world on mute as your eyes shut tight, anticipating the results that seemed to take too long to come.

The first thing you heard were the cheers, the announcement from the judges slipping your mind. In slow motion, you felt your team mates huddle around, crying, yelling, cheering, you all have just one first place to one of the most challenging competitions of the year.

You tried your best not to look at the section of your school, it’s been years since your mother has been to any of you sporting events; due to her heavy workload. A part of you was hoping to see one familiar face in the crowd, but you knew the chances were slim considering these types of things weren’t exactly his cup of tea. Before giving up your short search, you spotted the same brown hair you like to play with while sitting under a tree during lunch, the same long bang on the right side of his face that you want to push back so bad to get a full view of his angelic face he insisted on hiding from the world. He was sitting alone in an isolated row, far enough to be away from the large crowd but close enough for you to get a good view of him giving you a bright, wide smile, cheering for you loudly and proudly. You take it in – you almost forgot how good it felt to have someone cheering for you, it’s been years since seeing someone close and dear to you come to support you in these types of settings. You beam at him, waving frantically and cheering, giving him a smile that was so new to him, your cheeks high and corner of eyes wrinkled, a smile that says thank you, and he gave you a sheepish smile back, reassuring the same way you’ve been there for him, he will for you, even if it means coming to events that are out of his comfort zone.

After bowing and thanking the crowd for supporting your team, you guys head off to the back to go to the locker rooms to change and get ready to leave. Your teammates were chatting amongst each other while you were stuck in thought, how long it’s been since you’ve been in a competition that intense. You were used to being alone, not even having a consistent supporting system for a few years, it felt good to win alongside a team – a family that was given to you.

Before you made it to the locker rooms, you hear heavy footsteps frantically making their way to you. You turned on your heels as you see Junpei running towards you, out of breath and sweat dropping from his forehead. In a swift motion, he let his arms out and nearly tackled you – giving you the tightest and most affectionate hug he ever has in your time of knowing him. With him so close to you and squeezing you so tightly, you hope he missed the way your heart beat rapidly increased, you hope he missed the way that your body heated up feeling his chest so close to yours, feeling his heavy hot breathing trailing down from your ear to neck.

The few agonizing seconds was put to a halt as he pulled way, staring down at you, stars in his eyes with an enthusiastic smile, not even caring that he just ran the most he ever has in his life, not caring that catching his breath seems impossible, not even caring at those familiar glares from those girls you like to call your friends eyeing the two of you up and down with scowls on their faces.

“You did so good! You looked like….an angel! When they threw you in the air, a literal angel or fairy – or something.” He blurted out, the volume of his soft voice going a bit louder than you were used to. The laugh you let out sounded like warm honey, a laugh you weren’t even sure you could make anymore. Opening your mouth to thank him for his kind words, you were interrupted with sour snicker from behind you.

“Your new best friend is totally looking at your tits, babe.” Tsubasa said from behind you.

Your body tensed as her scratchy voice echoed in your ears, her sour voice matching the wicked personality she possessed. Your eyes followed where Junpei was looking towards, and you see that he’s taken notice to the golden locket that he hasn’t seen you wear before. You turn your head slowly, your face twisting as you saw the smug look on the girl’s face.

“It’s my necklace.” You spat back at her, “Mind your business.” You look back at Junpei, seeing the look of grimace on his face – you held in your chucked as you noticed the way his mouth was twitching, holding in his tongue trying not to let Tsubasa in the way of his personal celebration with you. The thing about Junpei, as soft spoken as he was, he always spoke his mind, always spoke up for himself, and if he didn’t vocally say anything, his face always gave away what he was thinking. You often wondered if he realized that or not, but you knew to save the question for another day.

Tsubasa resorted to rolling her eyes; deciding that snapping back wouldn’t be worth her time. She trotted away, disappearing into the hall – you wish she would disappear from your life, cheer captain or not, she was aggravating and bitter to say the very least.

Directing your attention back to Junpei, you place your hand on his shoulder, feeling his stiffened body and face relax at your touch, giving him a small reassuring smile, “I’ll meet you in a few, let me shower and change.”

The locker room was quiet – too quiet for a team that just won a competition that was this big. You kept your head held high making your way to your locker to grab your belongings to freshen up, not caring for the not-so subtle glances being suck towards you as you walked past all the girls. To be fair, after befriending Junpei you quickly knew why he was so antisocial and why you never met him before, even though you’ve been going to the same school since the first year. His avoidance tendencies no longer became a mystery to you when your friends would groan at the mention of him, the constant whining and reaction of disgust when you would leave them for him. It wasn’t long until you would see the subtle teasing he would endure because of your friends – it made you feel sick that these were your friends, it felt like you didn’t really know them after witnessing those small moments. But Junpei never mentioned it to you, never going further than ‘‘your friends are just jerks’’, since he never brought it up, you were sure not too, knowing how sensitive of a topic it was.

Once you stepped out of the shower, you hear the cheers and praises being sent back and forth between your team mates. Remembering the intense match, acknowledging their win and hard work being paid off. As you began to dry your body off you hear them mention going out to eat to celebrate their accomplishment as a team. Bringing your head up after drying off your legs, your eyes locked with Tsubasa’s and a sinister smirk spread across her face before she opened her mouth, “Don’t bother inviting (y/n).” she snickered, applying a thick coat of cheap sticky gloss to her chapped lips. “She’s gonna be with her boyfriend.” The word boyfriend being spat out venomously.

Along with the sneaky remarks being echoed throughout the locker rooms, bouncing from the walls you didn’t miss the hollered laughter, each shriek being equivalent to claws slowly inching its way down a chalkboard – being annoyed would be an understatement, “who knew you were into weirdos.” An underclassman on your team snorted out, that being the last straw for you.

You let out a load groan, frowning at the girls around the room with a sharp glare, “Can you guys just shut the fuck up? Are you guys sure you aren’t the ones who like him?” you said slamming your locker shut – causing the girls closest to you jump, nearly dropping the grip onto the towels that were covering their soaked bodies.

“Wha- ? We’re just joking, (Y/N). Plus, how well do you even know him?” Tsubasa displayed an over exaggerated look of offence on her face, mouth slightly open with her finger twirling the few front strands of her hair. You pulled down your shirt, your golden locket usually kept hidden fallen out as it did earlier during the competition. Eyelashes down, you lightly hold onto it with your fingertips feeling the eyes of the girls around you fallen onto the locket as well. The atmosphere of the room slowly changing, no longer a place of distasteful jokes but one of sorrow. It made your stomach churn, although this was your first time on the cheer team, most of the girls here were already your friends, including Tsubasa. It wasn’t until her remarks towards Junpei and the teasing you’d catch her do when she was sure you weren’t around that you distanced yourself from her, causing her to act out in a way that you were too unfamiliar with. The memory of you crying on top of your bed with Tsubasa and your other friends flooded your mind as you tightly gripped the gold heart that was now on your palm, the sweet words of comfort that once warmed you now becoming empty lifeless words as you become more familiar with the dark side of their personalities that they would usually keep hidden from you. After everything they knew about you, after everything you’ve told them, telling them how no matter how much darkness has spread through your life, you knew there was light and can see the good in everyone. You often voiced how thankful you were for them, having such kind-hearted friends, you could laugh now at how naïve and stupid you were to think that. “— We’re just looking out for you. Sure, you seem happy – or whatever, I guess. But we were here first, okay? He’s just a little…too reserved and weird. We just want to have you back. It’s just some fun teasing, anyways.”

You don’t remember when your chest began to feel heavy, or when the hot tears began to fall down your cheeks. You let go of the locket, bringing your hands to your face to wipe off the tears that snuck their way onto your face, “You guys – You know better.” You managed to say without choking, putting the locket back into your shirt to hide from the world – pulling up your jeans and grabbing your bag before you head out of the uncomfortable space.

Throwing your towel into the laundry bin, a firm grip was on your shoulder. You turned to see Ino, her pink hair up in a ponytail and large hazel eyes boring into yours apologetically, “Hey, I think it’s great you made a new friend you like a lot. Don’t be afraid to bring him around, not all of us are like that.” She whispered out. Ino was a transfer student, you didn’t know much about her other than she was soft-spoken, like Junpei, and a bit more reserved than the rest of the team. Earlier in the school year you were eager to befriend her but seeing her fall into the group of friends you were distancing yourself from, you thought it’d be best to stay away anyways.

“Right.” You said picking up your sports bag, “See ya next practice.”

~

“And then seeing you fly up so high…!” Junpei exclaims, his laugh going through your ear like a melody. His proud smile being the closest thing to resemble to sunshine in your eyes, his excitement on being a part of a school sporting event sending him on a quick adrenaline rush, “– It just felt good, finally having someone to cheer for. Y’know?”

You just nod, taking in the flushed look on his face as he begins to stuff his face with the ramen in front on him. As your friendship grew, so did his comfortability with you. The first few weeks of you coming into this ramen shop he would barley touch his bowl; it’s amusing to see him practically stuff his face without a second thought now. You didn’t know if it was his excitement on going to his first school sporting event or if he was just not shy around you anymore, but you didn’t care. Any slight display of vulnerability in your friendship with Junpei was a moment of accomplishment to you, so you made a deal with yourself to never think too deep into it and just enjoy these moments of breaking down his wall little by little.

As guilty as you feel, his voice vanishes as you stare at him longingly, his praises going in one ear and out the other. You notice the wrinkle in the corner of his outer eye, the way his cheek bone rises with each smile he makes as noodles hang from his mouth, you wonder if his excitement takes away from the worry he usually has when your too quiet – either way it wasn’t a horrible reason for your silence. You were just admiring his brightened face, feeling the small smile form on your face as your body reacts without thinking, pulling out your phone and taking yet again another photo of him, smiling off-guard, capturing another moment of pure happiness you never want to miss out on.

You see his lips stopped moving, eyes blinking back at you as he slurps up the last of the noodles that were hanging on his lips. You stare back at him – unmoved and unashamed of your sudden action. You snort after a few seconds of the silent staring contest that happened between the two of you, causing Junpei to lightly smile and chuckle to himself before asking jokingly, “Again?” Remembering the first time he caught you taking a photo of him off-guard.

You shrug back at him, picking up your own chopsticks and finally bringing your ramen to your mouth, you were so infatuated with Junpei’s praise and reaction you nearly forgotten how hungry you were. Junpei gives you a toothy grin as he goes back to his own bowl, with each smile he gives you, you feel the barrier he had up against the world slowly shrink in size.

Your eyes shift to your tote bag placed next to you, taking up that entire side of the red booth. You feel heat flush throughout your body as you see the leather black notepad sticking out, making itself known to you. You’ve been meaning to talk to Junpei about a project you had to do – one you’ve been working on anyways without his knowledge. Your friendship with Junpei was solid at this point, you knew that much. You knew your feelings towards each other was mutual, you were best friends, you also knew you had a tendency to often be too intense with the people you cared deeply about.

“You’re in my bag.” You whispered aloud, unaware completely of what you just said, your nerves getting the best of you.

Junpei gave you a quizzical look, his one visible eyebrow scrunched up as he swallows his food.

“I mean – ” you start off, “Pictures of you. I sketched pictures of you. They’re in my bag.”

His excited eyes burn through you, screaming at you without words to show him the sketches you were talking about. You gulp, heat rising to your ears, you hope he doesn’t notice your shaky hands reach for the book as you plop it in front of him, the first page being the first picture you snuck of him while he was at his club. He takes initiative and flips through the rest of the pages, seeing some of him sitting in class with his head placed on the palm of his hands, or him sitting under a tree.

Junpei’s fingers lightly trace over a specific sketch – it’s a drawing of a selfie that you two took together during lunch. He slowly looks up at you and you quickly avert your eyes to avoid his gaze, the feeling of embarrassment slowly introducing itself to you, a feeling you weren’t too familiar with.

Taking a deep breath, you look him in the eye as you clear your throat, “For my art class – ” you couldn’t hide the way your voice trembled with each passing word, “I need to paint something that makes my day, like, something you wake up and look forward to. Well, sitting next to you in class and coming here after, ditching practice and hearing you talk about some gross scary movie, it – that’s what I look forward to when I wake up…”

Your heart twists as you see the way Junpei’s face heats up, his face displaying different shades of red with each word you shakily spit out. You knew Junpei was closed off, becoming his friend and teaching him to let his guard down to form connections wasn’t easy – it isn’t easy. You fear anything too intense would scare him off, you fear being too open would crumble the friendship you were most fond of.

“I gotta – I wanna ask if I can paint you? A canvas and everything.” You mentally scold yourself at your choice of words, obviously a canvas – it’s a damn painting. The word vomit coming out and being stronger than you attempt steady train of thought.

You sit there staring at him – waiting, this felt like something that could bring you closer or pull you apart – if following him around, dragging him to this ramen shop, sneaking pictures of him whenever you had a chance didn’t kill the friendship, something like this possibly could.

What wasn’t expected was the warm feeling sneakily make its way onto your hand, a slight squeeze coming right after. You stared wide-eyed, seeing Junpei’s hand draped over yours. You watch silently in your booth, his hand placed over yours, a sight you would secretly fantasize about but quickly push away. Whenever the daydream occurred you would remind yourself, friends don’t look at each other that way.

“I look forward to you every morning too.” Was all he replied.

Needless to say, you had permission to use him as your muse.

_____________________________

Your fingers graze upon the corners of the pages of the magazine you were holding onto your hands, sitting with your legs crossed on the table with the four boys you slowly formed a friendship with.  You use your free hand to wave a cherry lollipop you snatched from Touya, one of the boys in the club with shaggy hair and glasses.

The chatter of the movie they’ve just seen and fallen in discussion to filled one ear while the music you were playing on your air pods filling the other, coming here to pass time by time has become a ritual for you. Once you’d gotten bored with the training that turned into gossip at the cheer club, you’d sneakily make your way to the Movie Club until it was time to go home, this place has become your safe haven. Here you have Junpei and the other boys, that you quickly made friends them, referring to them as your ‘sons’ as a joke.

You studied the pages from your favorite magazine – 6Teen— currently on the page of horoscopes. You usually skip these things, but the bright gold and purple designs caught your eyes, quickly finding your sun signs column, snickering to yourself at how generic these were. You weren’t one to go against the stars or the New Age spirituality that seemed to have your generation wrapped around their finger, but most magazine horoscopes were jokes themselves. You’d visit an astrologer before you ever took prediction meant to be read by their thousands of readers to heart.

‘ (sun sign),

You’ve been allowing your past to heavily effect your current circumstances. Keep an eye on those who keep their eyes on you, don’t be afraid of moving forward and allowing yourself to feel what you’re afraid of.’

You scoffed at the reading, bringing the cherry lollipop to your mouth and then releasing it with a loud ‘pop’! On instinct your eyes move up, catching Junpei staring at you and making eye contact with him. You see the flush spread across his cheeks, him seeing you twist and roll the candy around your tongue seconds earlier. The same feeling of butterflies fluttering throughout your chest caused you to quickly look down, avoiding his gaze that seemed to make you more nervous as each day passed by. Your eyes scanned the page you’ve just read “Keep an eye on those who keep their eyes on you…”, you quickly turn the page and pretend to bring your focus on the new article, on which hair style compliments you more based off the shape of your face.

Maybe you should think twice before mocking the stars and their messages – you thought – even if the messages are being sent through a magazine column.

You hear Junpei clear his throat as he goes back to his conversation, talking about how horrible the most recent Scary Movie was, something about how the franchise happened to get worse the more movies they made.

“Hey, what are you doing in here – (Y/N?)” You brought your head up, removing your air pod as you see a group of boys you were all too familiar with walk into the club room – their presence intimidating. Your eyes scanned them, remembering the moments you had laughing with them during lunch or after club hours, your stomach turning with disgust at these being the type of people you’d surround yourself with before you knew how they truly were, before you opened your eyes a little more and became a little less naïve with the idea that everyone was good.

“I mean, it’s our clubroom.”

“You guys aren’t in this club.”

You and Junpei replied in union, your eyes darted towards him, noticing his defensive stance. His trembling body didn’t match the stern look of assertiveness on his face. Good, you thought to yourself. A little teasing might not hurt everyone, but it was good to see him stand his ground towards the boys who would spit rude spiteful words to him in secret.

“Last time I checked, neither are you.” Shota said, the eerily forced smile he would impose throughout the day spread across his face– the same smile you learned to not trust when a classmate vented to you about him bullying him into doing his homework. The same smile you saw when he confessed to you, only hours after you heard him ridicule Junpei when he thought you weren’t around. “We were actually sent for you!”

You squint your eyes in suspicion, staring at the group of boys looking for any signs of malice. You don’t miss how two in the back hold in their snorting, trying to keep their eyes from you. “But – but no one knows I...”

Shota made his way towards you, bringing his head on top of your head and and patting it, “You aren’t as sneaky as you are pretty. I think you should head back before you get in more trouble than having us get sent for you.”

Your heads turn as you heard a slam on the table, Junpei’s teeth were gritted, eyebrows furrowed and griping onto the table, his eyes beaming with irritation, letting out an annoyed grunt seeing Shota get so physically comfortable with you and flirting with you right in front of him. Whether it was jealous – or your best friend simply being protective over you, it was hard to ignore the rapid beating against your chest, heat rising up through your body at seeing him get protective of you.

In an attempt to calm yourself down and ignore the racing thoughts, you take a deep breathe swatting Shota’s coarse hand from your head, “Right…” Collecting all your items you head towards the door, ignoring the snickering and whistles of the boys who began to uncomfortably surround you. “I’m gonna just go. See you after. Or just – just text me if you need me, for anything, okay?” You emphasize him needing you. Your stomach churned, feeling queasy as you prepared your leave.

Junpei just nods at you, his eyes not leaving Shota as you race your way out of the room.

The uneasy feeling never left you as you made your way back to the Movie Club room, and it only grew once you saw the sight of it. The chairs were spread across the room, one of the desks flipped over, and movies along with books scattered throughout the floor. Your mouth twists along with your chest, your vision going blurry and you began seeing red – red like the spots of blood you see splattered around the floor.

You dropped your bag as your legs reacted before you could process what you saw, tears forming in your eyes as you sprint towards the front of the school. The world around you became blurry, breathing frantic, you’re not worried about the strange looks from classmates or the ugly noises coming out of your mouth due to your drying throat. Once you make your way to the spot, your spot, you halt— the world around you still spinning, sweat dripping down your fingertips. The only thing going through your head is Junpei.

Junpei, Junpei, Junpei.

Where was he? Was he okay? Was the blood his?

He wasn’t at the spot in front of the school where you would usually meet at, he wasn’t at the club, and you didn’t even have his home address. You reach for your bag, cursing yourself as you noticed that you dropped it in his club room. Taking a few deep breathes you rush back, sprinting and ignoring the questions being spat to you when you pass the people you used to be friends with.

Once you got your bag you took out your phone, tossing your bag to the side as you shakily type out to him.

Sent: Why didn’t you wait for me? Told u to text me if anything. Are you okay? I hope you’re okay. Please just let me know how you are. Eat and sleep well for me, okay?

_________________

You lazily plop onto your bed, allowing your body to sink in the mattress. Your head was throbbing and throat scratchy, you cried your entire way home. You stare at the bag thrown across your room – coming home with no appetite you didn’t bother eating or making conversation with your mother. You decided your school work would have to wait until early in the morning.

Your mind was racing with questions, you turned and had your head facing the pillow, screaming into it while kicking your legs. Frustration took over your body, you didn’t even realize your eyelids slowly becoming heavier with each thought racing your mind.

You soon drifted off to sleep, not knowing that Junpei opened your message, leaving you on read.

You went to bed before realizing he was ignoring you.

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[auroracalisto]

flightless bird

requested?  yes, by @obxtotvdfcmg​

summary: the reader has been around for far much longer than the mikaelsons.  however, although she is an angel, she is missing her wings.  the mikaelsons don’t know too much.  hell, they’ve only known her for just a few years.  but when she is captured by a demon and the mikaelsons find her, the truth reveals all.

pairing: elijah x angel! female! reader

word count: 1.5k words

warnings: religious themes, angel! female! reader (i believe i only refer to the reader as having feminine pronouns twice, but please don’t hold me to that), angels and demons, not exactly biblical angels and demons, angels and demons with powers

a/n: writing things like this is so much fun.  ugh.  also... no... the title is not for that one song from the twilight soundtrack... what are you talking about?

Time seemed to stretch on longer than it ever had before, and that was saying a lot.  Being a two-thousand year old angel, you’ve spent a lot of time on Earth.  But here, right now, the scorched knife in your leg proved that time was just another messed up thing construed by your father.  Time went by faster when you weren’t counting on it—but now that you were wishing for it to be done and over, it seemed like it would never last.  

You should have never left the compound.  But you did.  You did, and now, you were sitting, tied to some iron chair with ancient runes that only angels and demons knew how to inscribe into anything.  And the demon standing in front of you made your blood run cold.  

You were a good angel.  You always did as you were told.  But when you lost your wings, that all went to Hell.  And it was all because of the demon who tore out the blade that had been in your thigh.  The heat cauterized your wound, but it wouldn’t have mattered.  You would have healed quickly.  

You clenched your jaw, staring in his direction.  “What am I doing here?”

He grinned and leaned forward, his hot breath in your face.  “You should know, you stupid guardian.  How dense are you?  Hanging around the Mikaelsons like they need your help.  Do you know how many times I’ve heard from their mother?  Crying like a little baby.”

“What do they have to do with you?  And my wings?  Why… why do you still have my wings, Kade?”

“Why would I get rid of them, angel?” he grinned, tilting his head at you.  “And they honestly don’t have anything to do with this.  It’s just fun to see you all riled up after all these years of hiding.  You really think getting away would have just made me stop searching for you?”

“They’ll find me, you know,” you said, ignoring him for the most part.  

The demon crossed his arms over his chest and he rolled his eyes.  “Right.  Because they’ll be looking for you.  They think you’re just some filthy human.”

“They think I’m a human because that’s all I allow them to see,” you quickly said, looking over at him.  “They smell human on me because you took my wings.  If I had them, I would never be able to fool them.”

“Alright, crybaby,” he breathed out, tossing his knife to the ground.  “I’ve gotta go make a couple calls,” he smacked your cheek roughly, grinning at you.  “You know, Hell and all.  Quite demanding, especially when they know I’ve been searching for you for years.”

“Go to Hell,” you glared at him and he couldn’t help but laugh.  

“Hm.  Out of all people, I thought you could do better.”

The demon, Kade, left soon after, taking what seemed to be hours.  You let your eyes close and you attempted to fall asleep.  Really, you knew that wouldn’t happen.  But squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as you could seemed like a better alternative than staring at everything that Kade had lined up for you.  

He kept you in the same room as the cabinet with your wings.  It made your heart wrench every time you looked at them.  How dare he do that to you?  You knew you had crossed him—but that had been a thousand years ago.  And now, you were friends with the Mikaelsons.  Of course, you only met them about five years ago.  In all of your time, you were surprised to have not met them sooner.  But you were glad you did.  

Elijah came to your mind as you sat there, wondering when Kade would be back.  He would keep you going.  You had to keep going, for him.  It’s not like this dumb demon could even kill you.  But it had been years since you saw him.  Anything could have happened between then and now.  

Kade came back in the room in the midst of your daydreaming.  His hand came down on the side of your face, immediately pulling you back to the now.  

He smirked as he looked down at you.  “You’re so pretty when you look like that, angel,” he said.  “It’s a shame that you’re gonna have to die—”

He was cut off by a loud bang and a shout from another demon outside the room.  Then there was the shouts of several people, followed by a couple demons most definitely dying.  The look on Kade’s face told you all that you needed to know.  

Kade clenched his jaw and he looked at you, staring you down for a moment.  

Before he could do much, the doors swung open.  Using his powers, Kade went from standing right in front of you to standing right beside the cabinet with your wings.  

At the doors stood Elijah, covered in demon blood.  You could smell it—it reeked of everything beastly in the world.  

You watched as his eyes grew wide at the sight of you.  You just shook your head.  “Elijah,” you spoke, tugging your wrists at the bonds that were still tied tightly around them.  “Just take care of Kade.”

Kade let out a laugh.  “You think your little Mikaelsons will do anything to save you?” 

He had a lighter in his hands.  

You looked over at him, your breath hitched in your throat.  

“I’ll burn your fucking wings and it’ll be the end of that.  No more having to watch over my fucking back.  You’ll be finished, Angel.”

“After all this time, Kade, and you still can’t make a fire with your powers?” you watched him closely, fighting back the tears that formed in your eyes.  

The demon would have attacked you.  That you knew, for sure.  But before he could even think of using the lighter to burn your wings, Elijah was in front of him, shoving him against the side of the cabinet.  He gripped at a piece of the wooden door and broke it off, the sharper piece going straight through the demon’s heart.  It would kill him.  You knew that.  But all you could think of was your wings, quite literally going crazy to get out of the cabinet.  

Where Elijah had knocked Kade into it, it knocked the wings loose.  And now, they were making their way back to you.  Elijah watched, in mild disarray, as you leaned forward, accepting the white wings as they easily attached to your shoulder blades.  It cut through the fabric of your shirt, something that you would have to worry about later.  And of course, you knew that you could use your powers to hide your wings, but Elijah didn’t know that.  However, you still couldn’t move.  The bonds around your wrists were inscripted with the same ancient runes that had been inscribed into your chair.  

Elijah wasted no time in rushing over to you, quickly untying the ropes.  He helped you to your feet, and immediately, the runes had no effect over you.  

You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around the vampire, burying your face in his chest.  He wanted to ask you so many questions… but he didn’t.  He just hugged you back, thankful that he had the love of his life with him once more.  

Klaus and Rebekah had come to the door, while Kol was still somewhere out in the hallway, killing another demon.  There had been so many of them.  

Rebekah froze behind Klaus, her eyes wide.  Klaus started to stare, but he came forwards instead of just standing by the doorway.  

“What the hell?” Klaus spoke, staring at your wings.  

Your cheeks burned as you pulled back from Elijah, sending a hesitant smile towards the Mikaelsons.  “He… that demon,” you pointed to the one that Elijah had killed.  “Had my wings.  Didn’t think I’d be very believable if I told you I was an angel.”

Elijah couldn’t help but laugh.  “Out of everything in this world, I do not believe being without wings would have prevented us from believing you, [Your name].”

This time, you couldn’t help your tears.  You smiled up at Elijah, relieved to be with him and to be reunited with the things that made you an angel after all these years.  Elijah leaned forward and kissed your forehead.  

“Come on.  Let’s get you home before any other… creature shows up again.”  

Elijah took ahold of your hand, looking over at Klaus and Rebekah.  “You two have to get Kol.  I’ll take her out to the car.” 

Rebekah rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Not it.”

Klaus scoffed.  “Fine.  [Your name],” he looked over at you, his eyes softening.  “We are all glad you’re okay.  And… we have much to talk about when we get home.”

You just smiled, knowing that there was so much you felt comfortable telling them now that the part of you that had been missing for so long was now on your shoulders.  Hidden, of course, as you walked out into the world of human eyes, but there for you and your little group of vampires to know.  

[kneworder]

I’ve seen a few TUA 3 wishlists but I’ve been disappointed by my favorite shows a few too many times, so here’s everything I’m literally begging them NOT to do in TUA 3:

- Spend a lot of time on the Sparrow Academy. Not because I don’t think that would be interesting, but, as I’ve seen other people say, there’s so much I want to see out of the Umbrella cast. Honestly, I care so little about the Sparrow Academy members -- they’re not the characters I’m attached to. I’m terrified that Umbrella development and plotlines are going to be sacrificed in favor of the Sparrows, or even worse, neither group will get anything meaningful because the show is spread so thin balancing 6 new characters. 

- Spend a lot of time deeply developing relationships between Sparrows and Umbrellas. Again, I literally do not care about the Sparrows outside of them being side characters/antagonists/plot devices. I swear if we get Five or Allison bonding with random new Sparrows when they’ve barely had any scenes together I’ll be furious. 

- Vanya starts the apocalypse again. Or actually? The apocalypse is a conflict at all. It was great round 1, it was fine round 2, it’ll be repetitive if it happens yet another time. I know Vanya is supposed to always be the bomb, but p l e a s e give them another conflict, I’m begging. 

- Fan favorites never face any repercussions for their actions. This is a smaller one that mostly comes from a place being annoyed that Klaus got to start a cult and cut Ben off from the rest of the family and never got seriously called on it, and that Vanya straight up ended the world (understandable given the circumstances, but still) and then got amnesia-ed out of a real conversation about that. I don’t hate these characters, I’d just appreciate it if the gravity of their actions was examined, I guess? 

- Adding onto that, PLEASE no outrageous fanservice at the expense of character. I love contrite himbo Luther as much as the next person, but we only got that because of the fan reaction to his character. And while that isn’t necessarily a problem, I’ve seen shows that try so hard to please their audiences by putting fan favorites in more prominent positions and sticking with the same team-ups people already liked and, in doing so, reduce their characters to the one-note that the loudest part of the fandom already has (sorry, but I’m looking at you, ST3). Extremely worried that between the new influx of characters and the precedent for (slight) fanservice, they’ll go overboard and flanderize all the characters we know and love into bastardized and simplified versions of themselves. This especially applies to Five  -- he has very specific traits (small, angry, violent) that he can easily be flattened into, and hasn’t gotten to experience an arc heavy on character rather than plot -- and to Klaus -- similarly specific traits (hedonist, funny, angsty) he can be and in some ways already has been flattened into. 

- Five gets a love interest, please that would feel weird and wrong on literally every level.

- Actually, personally, I don’t really want to see any of them get love interests. This is a show that’s supposed to focus on family, and straying too far from that theme will just turn it into an ensemble show. I had no issues with Lila, Ray, and Sissy! But the reason they worked was because the time skip allowed for the conceivable formation of relationships between them and characters cut off from their siblings. There (probably) won’t be a significant time skip this time around, so new romantic relationships would be little out of left field. 

- Soundtrack that bangs but is irrelevant, or, far worse, a boring soundtrack. S2 had a good soundtrack, but S1 had a soundtrack that fit each scene specifically. The music felt like a character, and I’d hate to see the show move away from something so unique and interesting! (Plus the soundtrack makes up some of my most listened to music so. Please guys, I need new music.) 

- Allison (& Claire) get shelved. Allison’s daughter was just literally unmade. Please give Allison a solid and central plotline. (Ideally, Allison would drive the action because she has the most skin in the game, while Five would get to take a break from being the connector since all of his key motivations have been accomplished, but that’s just me!). 

So that’s just. A few things. tbh I’ll probably think of more, this genuinely makes me so nervous. 

tl;dr, All I want is for them to keep the focus on the siblings, remain character driven, and stay away from repetitive story arcs. Please, I am begging for TUA to stay good,,,,,,

[suchalonelysunflower]

Running Through My Dreams - A duet (l.h)

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Fem! Reader

Summary: based on Remembering Sunday by All Time Low. A conversation with flashes of the past

Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of death (non graphic) Mentions of Alcohol. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language and I did not proof read this, I’m sorry)

Word count: 2k

Author’s Note: Just experimenting with sad topics and a new form of writing. Hope everyone can understand bc formatting this was a nightmare. Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // wanna be part of my taglist?

How to read: Bold: Luke; Italics: Reader. Together

This might work better on mobile.

I woke up alone again in the middle of the night, it’s the third time this week.

I’ve been leaving the bed early

hoping you’ll get used to it.

I stay long enough, always leaving

after 2AM

The pillow doesn’t smell like her anymore. It hasn’t for a long time. She thinks I don’t notice

I knew you would.

But everyday I feel her pull farther away from me.

It wasn’t always like this

But I knew it would come to

this.

Still,

I needed to move on

What time is it? It can‘t be too late, it’s only past 2 AM and my head is killing me. What did I do?

The bottle near the bed should

serve as an answer

Fuck.

Where is she?

Sunday seemed so far away, but it’s only been a couple of days. You’ve been staying at his place, claiming that your apartment needed some fixing that the landlord promised to do, but that you needed to go back every morning just to make sure everything was in place.

You just never told him how early you’d be there. Making him wake up to an empty bed.

You woke up with the smell of bacon, cursing at yourself for letting sleep take over you last night. You didn’t mean to stay but what’s done is done.

Luke was standing in the kitchen, chest bare as he cooked the eggs the way you liked them.

You always knew me more

than I knew myself

“Good morning, love” He said when he saw you standing, almost hiding behind the door to the kitchen.

He smiled, and god you wished you could hate it.

“Morning,” You mumbled, clearly not in a good mood. Morning always did that to you. But Luke didn’t mind, he still smiled and placed a kiss on your cheek as you took a seat on one of the chairs.

“Do you need to go today?” He asked, placing your breakfast in front of you.

I always hated when she had to leave

You would’ve hated me more

if I stayed, even if I wanted to

Maybe it was the look in his eyes that made you weak. Those baby blues haunted you from the very start and you found yourself unable to say no to them. That’s why it was easier to leave when he slept.

“I can stay if you want”

She could’ve stayed forever.

He smiled bigger than before, pulling your chair closer to him as he kissed you softly. You melted against him as the sirens in your head went off. You couldn’t let this happen.

I could’ve told her that I loved her, I knew I did.

Do you even know what love is?

She never believed in it. She was afraid to get close, but I knew she felt it, too. How could she not?

There was something there.

Something I didn’t know was

possible

Something I felt all along.

But it’s late, or early and she hasn’t responded. Maybe

I got it all wrong

She must be there, somewhere. She might be alone. And I’m here.

You are where I want you to be

Where did she go? The girl I fell in love?

You laugh bounced through the walls as he chased you down.

“Luke!” You half cried, half laughed “Stop!”

But he only got closer, tickling your sides every time he could catch you on a corner.

It was just a game, just a moment for the two of you where you could just be yourselves. You didn’t get much of that before.

Luke smiled at the sound of your giggles, feeling as if the melody of them could very much be the soundtrack of his own happiness. He felt a bolt of electricity with every light touch, gracing his fingers carefully upon your skin to make sure he’s not hurting you. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

But did I ever? Maybe without knowing.

Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, leaving a scorching trail as his movements slowed down. The tickles now became caresses as you let your body rest against a wall, sighing softly when you felt his fingers trail up your sides.

The goosebumps started to appear the moment you felt his breath near your lips. His head hung low, letting his forehead rest against yours as you looked into his eyes.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. You knew by just a look where this was going and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want to let it happen.

Your hands flew to the back of his head as you pulled him into you, letting your lips capture his in a needed kiss.

You parted your lips when you felt his grip tighten on your waist, letting him deepen the kiss as he deem fit and making his tongue tangle with yours as he swallowed your moans into his mouth.

His body was against yours, pressing it to the wall and making you feel all of him as he covered your body completely. Never once letting your lips go until you gasped for air.

The look in both your eyes was clear as lust consumed your bodies. You pulled on his hand, smiling as you led him into the bedroom.

It was beautiful at the start

At the start we didn’t know

I should go to her, tell her I love her and that I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done.

You always took the blame

where there wasn’t one.

With the memories still playing inside his head, Luke got up from his place on the bed, instantly falling to the floor with his knees scraping against the carpet.

He didn’t know why his legs failed him when he tried to reach you, understanding that you were far away from where you were supposed to be.

She should be here. I need her here.

Luke got dressed as soon as he could. He knew he was too intoxicated to drive, he didn’t want to put anyone in danger; so he decided to walk.

He took his phone with him, smiling slightly when he noticed a missed call from you.

Why aren’t you picking up? Don’t you want to see me?

You were the only one who

could see me

I’m coming. I’ll find you. I know it’s not

It is

Too late

Your apartment building was just a few miles away, but Luke’s thoughts ran faster than he could. In his head he knew what to say once he saw you, once he made sure you were okay.

He had to tell you that he loved you, that he wouldn’t run away. He will give you all the time you need but, please.

Come back to me

The buttons all seemed the same to him, the names on the tags were too faded to even try and read them. But he knew your place by heart.

The second button to the left, just under the one who got a spot of red paint on it. It was the only apartment you could afford when you moved, but you loved it nonetheless.

He called, and called, and called, and called.

But the more he pressed the button, the more hopeless he felt.

Are you there? Can you hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m not leaving, not unless you want me to.

I don’t want to, but you will

Desperate, he starts pressing the buttons of your neighbors, hoping maybe one of them would let him in.

“I will call the police” Your upstairs neighbor said.

“Please,” Luke begged “I just need to speak with Y/N”

“Who?”

The man hung up. Luke tried another button.

“Anne?” A lady spoke.

Luke sighed “No, but I need to get into the building. My girlfriend needs me and it’s starting to rain, could you let me in, please?”

“Oh, sure, honey” The sweet lady said, opening the door for him.

Luke thanked the careless woman as he entered the building just before the few droplets of water fell upon his jacket.

He got up the stairs, skipping two steps as he tried to reach you as soon as possible. To hell with his dizzy head just as long as you were safe.

“Y/N?” He called, banging on your door loud enough to wake you up, but not too loud to disturb your neighbors.

I know you’re there

I know you’re here

“Y/N! Please let me in!”

He kept on banging, each one louder than the last one. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his concern grew with every second you were not answering the door.

It’s been days since he’s seen you. Days since you left after Sunday. Days since he’s been sober because you ignored him after telling him it was over, without any explanation as to why.

I’m not going to

Give up

I’m not going to answer

I have to tell her that I love her.

I wish I could tell you why

She’s my dream

A nightmare, perhaps

I don’t want to

You have to

Wake up

“Is there anything I can help you with?” A couple dressed in robes stood outside their door.

Luke stared at your neighbors for a while before he could respond. He dried the tears off his face before saying.

“My girlfriend, she hasn’t been answering her phone-“ He didn’t care that his voice sounded broken when his whole spirit was shattered “I- I mean, I just want to make sure that she’s okay because I need to talk to her. Have you seen her?”

The couple looked at each other, the man sighed.

“Are you sure you got the right door, son?” He asked.

Luke furrowed his brows, checking the number placed at the door one more before nodding.

“Oh, dear” The woman said emphatically “The lady that lived there moved”

“What?”

“She's been moving her stuff for days now, but I think tonight she made the big move and took off. She even left us the key for the landlord when he came” The woman signaled her husband and he disappeared into their home for a few seconds before appearing again with the key in hands “I’m so sorry, darling”

Luke shook his head. This was not possible, you couldn’t be….

Gone

“Do you want to check for yourself?” The man asked, handing Luke the key to your apartment.

He thanked the couple and apologized for the disturbance.

This can’t be true.

But what if it is?

She would’ve told me

I never told you how I felt

And now it’s

It can't be

Too late

Luke opened the door to your apartment, holding back a breath as he realized it was completely bare.

All your stuff were not there anymore. Not a picture or furniture that could prove your existence, not even a ghost that could testify that someone lived there once. A someone that he had loved.

He walked to the middle of your small living room, letting his eyes scan for anything that you might’ve left behind. Something that he could hold on to so he knows you’ll be back, or at least something that could tell him where you went.

The rain fell against the bare window, letting the shadows of the droplets racing through the glass plaster against the wooden floor, mirroring Luke’s tears as he realized that

I’m not coming back

Not like you expect me to

Why did she leave?

I thought it was for the best

But I regretted it the

moment I stepped into the

car

She could’ve come to me

I was coming back to you

I called and you didn’t

answer. So I tried again.

I swear i didn’t see that truck

coming my way.

Y/N

It all happened so fast

Y/N….

I’m not coming back

No….

I was terrified. But then

I was

I want to be

With you

Luke

I can’t understand

I did something so terrible

Could you…

Forgive me

I tried to find home when

home is where you are.

Now I’m in the clouds

I just need to know that you’re

I’m

Okay

I’ll be with you

But you won’t see me

I wished I could tell you how much I loved you

You already did

“Luke?”

The blonde man jumped at the sound of Ashton’s voice. He was standing in the middle of the field, letting the rain tower over him as he woke up from his nightmare.

It’s been three days since he stood in your apartment. Three days since he got the call from the hospital. Three days of unstoppable rain and grey clouds that seemed to be following him since the day he lost you.

Now, he stood in a black suit, letting his eyes wander over the carved letters of your name once again.

“Are you okay? Is there something you want to do? Something we can do?”

He stood still.

“I really thought I would marry her”

His band mates stood right by his side this whole time, never letting him out of sight. Letting their hearts break with him.

Calum placed a hand on his shoulder.

“She loved you, Luke. She would’ve want you to keep going”

Luke smiled sadly, “I always loved her more”

After a few minutes, Luke asked them to leave him alone with you to say goodbye.

He kneeled in front of the marble that laid on the ground, completely damped from all the rain, and smiled softly.

“I might never understand why you did it, why you ran, why they took you away from me far too soon when your car was headed back here… But, I know you were scared and I don’t blame you for that, you were always braver than me, even when you were afraid. You’ll have a lot to explain when we meet again, love, and I promise I won’t let you go when that happens. But until then, I’ll see you Sunday”

I’ll be here.

I love you

*

*

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[waveypedia]

the more things seem to change, the more they stay the same.

Ao3

Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright have loved one another since the day they met.

-

Against all odds, Miles returned the smile in full. “Then I suppose we shall just have to discover the truth together. Shall we, Wright?”

The grin Wright gave him in return was blinding enough to replace the sun. “We shall, Edgeworth. Now just take it easy.”

-

Four non-linear glimpses into the lives of Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth over the years.

Written for Narumitsu Week Day 7: Seasons

Winter

  [December 31, 2016

5:32 PM

Edgeworth’s Apartment]

 Bang, bang, bang.

Miles jumped out of his armchair, nearly throwing his book. 

Bang, bang, bang.

Someone was knocking at his door. Rather thoughtlessly, it seemed. Miles was always careful to scare any solicitors that dared pass the signs far away. Maybe his reputation simply hadn’t spread to this one brave solicitor.

The knocking continued, relentless. Miles dropped his book and stalked to the door. If this solicitor was blissfully unaware of how terrifying the Demon Prosecutor could be, they soon would not be.

“Oi, Edgeworth, open up.”

That… was not a solicitor.

Miles froze in front of the door, one hand on the handle. What could he possibly want?

Stubborn as ever, the knocks continued. Miles’ frustration outweighed his wariness, and in a burst of fury, he wrenched the door open, seething. 

On the other side of the doorway, Wright frowned at him. He was slumping, exhausted, with one hand still poised to knock. His ever-present cheap court suit was rumpled and wrinkled, like he’d slept in it - not uncharacteristic at all. Yet he was bright-eyed and sported the same expression on his face as when he was about to uncover a tangled mystery in court.

“Edgeworth,” Wright said, breathless and half unbelieving.

“What do you want, Wright,” Miles sighed, unable to conjure up the energy to properly rebuke Wright. Or engage in… whatever little tête-a-tête he had planned. 

That seemed to break whatever spell Miles had cast upon Wright by opening the door. The other man straightened, shaking out his wrist. “Can I come in?”

Miles stared, the query not quite processing for a minute. And when it finally did, he found himself unable to make sense of it.

“I suppose,” he supplied awkwardly, after he realized he had been staring blankly at Wright in lieu of a response.

Wright ducked his head abashedly, a small, awkward smile making its home on his face. “Great. Perfect. Um…. Yeah,” he said eloquently, ducking around Miles (who seemed to have forgotten all of his politeness and social skills, the one proficiency both his father and von Karma had imprinted on him) and into the house.

After a minute, Miles shut the door and followed, feeling hopelessly lost in his own home.

He found Wright in his kitchen, pulling some items out of his cupboards seemingly at random. 

“May I ask what you’re doing?” Miles said, feeling unimaginably out of place.

Wright Jumped as if he’d forgotten Miles was there at all. He glanced over, his mouth forming a small ‘o’. He frowned, seemingly turning over words in his head as he worked.

“Well,” Wright began, somewhat hesitantly, “When Ch- When Mia died, I never had the energy to cook.” He paused, glancing over at Miles to gauge his reception. After a moment of deliberation, Miles gave him a small nod, urging him to continue.

“Yeah,” Wright said, half to himself. “And after Do- Well. When these hard things happen, it’s… well, it’s difficult.”

“...Difficult,” Miles muttered, half to himself.

“Yeah, difficult,” Wright said, with a flippancy he didn’t completely feel.

Still feeling indescribably inept for the moment, Miles pulled out one of the chairs at his kitchen island and dropped into it. He resigned himself to staring awkwardly at the floor as Wright worked.

“Um, do you have a speaker or anything?” Wright asked after a minute. “I don’t listen to a lot of music, but Maya has a playlist she likes to put on while I cook, so…”

Wordlessly, Edgeworth retrieved the speaker from where it’s been collecting dust in one of his closets and passed it to Wright. “You cook for Maya?”

In a similar gesture to when he’s flustered in court, Wright laughed nervously and scratched behind his head. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta, right? Neither of us are gonna get our own cooking show anytime soon, but we manage. And between the two of us, I’m the one who’s used to living on my own. She’s learning, though.”

“She doesn’t know how to cook?” Miles asked.

“Eh, not really,” Wright replied, plugging the speaker into an outlet and fiddling with his phone. “Apparently they have this fancy system where the elders of Kurain cook for them. I doubt Maya would be too interested in cooking if it weren’t for the fact that she’s not really allowed to. She’d much rather go out for burgers every meal.”

Miles hummed in response. 

Seemingly, Wright finally figured out how to connect his ancient brick of a phone to Miles’ speaker, since his face broke out in a grin and he waved his phone in the air triumphantly. It was similar to the grin he wore in court, when he discovered a key piece of evidence or broke a witness’ testimony. 

Wright pulled up Maya’s playlist. Miles expected something bright and bouncy, much like the girl in question, but the notes that filtered through his speaker were far from it. Low and elegant, a familiar orchestral score filled the highest arches of Miles’ kitchen. Before he realized it, he relaxed into his seat, the familiarity of the music making him feel right at home. A millisecond later, Miles’ brain caught up to him.

“Is this the Steel Samurai soundtrack?!” Miles practically screeched, unable to believe his own ears.

Wright’s head, bowed in careful concentration as he chopped vegetables, snapped up in surprise. His eyes were blown wide. “Yeah, Maya really likes that show. It’s why she dragged me off to defend Will Powers that one time.” As he processed, a playful smirk began to worm its way onto Wright’s face, much like the pit of dread making itself at home in Miles’ stomach. “Why, do you watch it?”

“Nghoooh,” Miles groaned, burying his head in his hands.

Wright laughed, throwing his head back empathically. A few pieces of finely chopped carrot flew off of his knife and hit the counter in the back, making Wright and Miles wince in tandem. Miles made a mental note to clean his kitchen as soon as possible, since it was now certain Phoenix Wright would make a mess of things once again.

Although, was it really all that bad?

“It’s okay,” Wright said, still choked with giggles. “It makes sense, you know?”

Panic flashed in Miles’ gut. He wondered if he had been dropping unintentional signals. If that’s the case, what other subjects have I been dropping unintentional signals about?! But Wright simply smiled, completely comfortable.

Wright’s eyes sparkled, both with mirth and affection. Affection?! “Don’t you remember watching the Signal Samaurai with me ‘n Larry when we were kids? Signal Red, Signal Blue, Signal Yellow, remember?”

“Larry and  I, Wright,” Miles  sighed, massaging his temples. It was unimaginably easy to slip back into their courtroom personas, with Miles latching onto the tiniest contradictions to tear his argument apart.

Except here, there was no argument. Only a nostalgic window into the past and a dangerously comfortable relationship with his friend-turned-rival-turned-maybe-friend-again. 

“Whatever, whatever,” Wright said, waving the knife perhaps a bit too carelessly for a blade that size. Then again, Wright had always danced a little too close with danger, hadn’t he?

It wouldn’t stop Miles from worrying about him, though.

“I do remember watching the Signal Samurai with you when we were little,” Miles admitted. “I… I kept watching it, even after I… moved to Germany. Von Karma was never fond of it, unsurprisingly, but music and television were some of the only things from my home I found a way to keep.”

Wright set down the knife and leaned his elbows on the polished counter. He said nothing, but something in his open and earnest expression urged Miles to continue more than any prompting ever could have.

“I tried to get Franziska to watch some of it with me,” Miles resumed, embolded. “She never cared much for it, but she watched it with me. Sometimes. Usually after a nightmare.”

“Franziska?” Wright questioned.

Miles simply waved a tired hand in response. He knew better than to leave Wright in the dark now, after that mess of a trial, but Franziska’s tale was a long and complicated one that he simply didn’t have the vitality for. He could feel his already-low energy level slipping, as if willpower was bleeding out of his body like grains of sand in an hourglass. He dropped his head into his hands rather roughly, and his eyes began to droop closed.

In a rare stroke of luck, Wright seemed to understand him immediately, without Miles needing to summon energy he didn’t have to explain. Somehow Wright had always been able to do that - always been able to read Miles effortlessly. Additionally, he could pick up on what he  needed instead of what he wanted, even if he didn’t even know itself. 

Wright set down the cooking tools and carefully stepped over to where Miles was sitting at the bar. “Maybe that’s enough for tonight, hmm?”

“But your cooking,” Miles croaked, fighting to keep his eyes open. Exhaustion from the previous days, which he’d already thought he’d been suffering from, suddenly hit him like a truck.

Wright grinned at him, triumphant and crooked, like when he caught a witness in court. “Aha! You want to eat my cooking! You’re happy I’m here!”

Miles flashed his darkest, most terrifying scowl, coveted and perfected by the Demon Prosecutor himself. “I am simply trying to be a good-” He cut himself off with a yawn, frustratingly ruining his acerbic facade. “-host.”

Wright rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. Fondly?! “Please, Edgeworth. If anyone’s hosting here, it’s me.”

“In case you have not noticed, Wright, we are currently inhabiting my house,” Edgeworth said, unimpressed.

Wright beamed, unrepentant, and flung his arms out to both sides. “Yeah? And I’m the one cooking. I believe that’s what they call a  contradiction in court.”

“Absolutely not,” Miles grumbled. “This is ridiculous.”

Wright chuckled softly. “You just don’t want to admit I beat you again.”

“Hardly,” Miles groused, disgruntled. “When we go head to head again, Phoenix Wright, I will arrive with a guilty defendant. And I will achieve my guilty verdict.”

“And what if your defendant isn’t guilty?” Wright asked, tilting his head to the side with a small smile.

Against all odds, Miles returned the smile in full. “Then I suppose we shall just have to discover the truth together. Shall we, Wright?”

The grin Wright gave him in return was blinding enough to replace the sun. “We shall, Edgeworth. Now just take it easy.”

Miles rested his chin in his hand and watched Wright finish with an easy smile.

  Spring

  [May 25, 2019

11:03 PM

Wright Talent Agency]

 “You know what they say about spring?” Phoenix asked, apropos of nothing.

Edgeworth glanced up from the files he’d been annotating. He won’t let Phoenix look, but he knows they’re files for the case he’s prosecuting. A locked-room murder, Edgeworth called it. He’d offered Phoenix the coveted spot of co-counsel, but Phoenix had turned it down. There was no way he could accept that offer. He had thought both he and Edgeworth knew that well, but it seemed Edgeworth was still holding out hope.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

“What’s that?” Edgeworth asked, setting down his pen to give Phoenix his full attention. Oh, Phoenix could never quite handle this version of Edgeworth, the one full to the brim with careful kindness. Not like he was stepping on eggshells (which he, and everyone else, did a little too often around Phoenix for his liking, even if it was deserved).

Phoenix spun one of Edgeworth’s spare pens between his fingers. “It’s a time of change, and new beginnings.”

“Oh?” Edgeworth’s tone was carefully measured, knowing and wary of the minefield Phoenix was leading him into, yet following placidly all the same. “That is a nice sentiment. It most likely stems from the many agricultural plants that must be planted during this season, as well as many animals’ mating and birthing season during this time.”

“Yeah.” Phoenix scruffed his foot on his already dirty carpet. The hollow pang of pain he receives in response felt staticy and cloudy, like it was muffled through several layers of unreality. He barely processed it. Everything felt like that these days.

Everything except for Trucy, his light. Who was now fast asleep, hopefully dreaming peacefully and free of the nightmares that had plagued them both ever since the Gramarye trial.

And now, Edgeworth, apparently. To prove his point, Phoenix turned his focus to Edgeworth. The fuzz receded, and he could see clearly again. Just in time to focus on every smooth, unwrinkled thread in Edgeworth’s suit jacket that cost more than a year’s worth of rent, even though he’d been working tirelessly for the entire day. Or his grey eyes, sharp with focus as he examined the file for any hint of a clue or contradiction. Not sharp like the Demon Prosecutor’s eyes had been, glaring daggers from an unassuming newspaper photo and then again in the courtroom. No, Edgeworth was only dangerous to his enemies, and his enemies were the villains who stood in the way of truth and justice.

Like Phoenix himself, if the newspapers were to be believed, anyway. Everyone thought they were.

Sometimes he wished Edgeworth thought the same. It would make things easier, in a sense. Spending time with Edgeworth is tricky, but rewarding.

Rewarding enough that Phoenix continues to humor his old friend, even though he can barely bring himself to answer Maya’s stubborn calls. He can’t quite put his finger on  why .

(He knew the answer - he’s known since he changed his career path. Since he stubbornly kept writing letters to a boy who never once gave any hint he was reading them. But he’s not willing to break that black lock yet. Not with the hand the Gramarye trial has dealt him.)

“Yes, but when one examines the issue closely, one finds it does not have the negative connotation it appears to,” Edgeworth said, breaking the silence Phoenix hadn’t realized they’d fallen into. He punctuated his words with a quiet, thoughtful hum that always made Phoenix melt inside, even though their conversation topic was less than comforting. “It is true that some instances require an end of another in order to begin anew. Such is the cycle of life. Yet, the focus of the saying is always on the beginnings - the good in this hypothetical relationship. Life is a give-and-take of tragedy and joy.”

“Huh,” Phoenix blinked, stumped. “That’s awfully poetic, Edgeworth.”

Edgeworth chuckled awkwardly, clutching at his elbow. “I… may have given it quite a bit of thought.”

Phoenix’s lips quirked up in the tiniest hint of a smile. It was self-deprecatingly vicious, sure, and a little sorrowful, but there was genuine surprise and happiness there as well. “Nice to hear I mean so much to you.”

Phoenix fully expected a  “Don’t flatter yourself, Wright, I was merely pondering my   own    tragedies. Did you forget that? That my life is worse than yours?”  or a  “I was merely thinking of Franziska, or Ms. Fey. They have both been through quite a bit. Wouldn’t you agree, Wright?”

Even though he knew Edgeworth well, had watched him change and evolve from the Demon Prosecutor into the comfortable person he was today, nothing could prepare him for Edgeworth’s reaction. The prosecutor set his papers down and shifted so he was facing Phoenix. Quicker than Phoenix expected, he reached out and gripped both of Phoenix’s shoulders in a strong hold.

The contact shocked Phoenix out of his stupor. He blinked at Edgeworth, mouth partly open in shock. Edgeworth, for his part, seemed slightly surprised at his own brevity. A scarlet flush dotted his cheeks. Phoenix was sure his own face was much worse. Yet Edgeworth continued, strong and true.

“Wright, you must know by now that I hold you in high regard,” Edgeworth said, with only the smallest touch of awkwardness Phoenix would expect for such a declaration from the man who had once declared unease and uncertainty unnecessary feelings. “I will do everything in my power to see you properly reinstated to your rightful place behind the defense bench. Moreover, I… care for your well-being, very much. It does not do me any favors to witness you in such pain.”

“O-oh,” is all Phoenix could manage. How could he, in the wake of such a blunt confession? How could he possibly follow up to that?

The gravity of what he did seemed to catch up to Edgeworth, and he dropped his arms in a rush. Phoenix missed the comforting weight of his hands almost immediately.

“I… apologize if I was too forward.” Edgeworth cast his gaze to the ground, cheeks burning. “I mean every word I said, however.”

“I… thanks, Edgeworth,” Phoenix said lamely. “I feel the same way.”

Edgeworth smiled, comfortable and soft. “I… yes. I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you, Phoenix.”

I appreciate the sentiment. A bolt of surprise shot through Phoenix. He jerked up, filled with renewed energy and adrenaline, and gave Edgeworth a hard look. All static had completely disappeared now; dissipated in the wake of his shock. “You don’t believe me?”

It wasn’t quite a question, wasn’t quite a statement. Yet Edgeworth just frowned, confused, and shook head. “The opposite, in fact. I believe you wholeheartedly. You have proved it to me many times over.”

“I have?” Phoenix echoed.

Edgeworth gave a controlled, tight nod. “That is correct. Your boundless care manifests itself in your tenacity. That such trait became apparent to me in your many attempts to befriend me as a child, and later to secure my friendship once I had left. Yet again, when we faced off in court. I found myself on the other side of your tenacity, for I stood in the way of safety for the ones you cared for. You cared so much for me in my own trial that you refused to accept my confession, even though I wholeheartedly believed it to be the truth. If I had secured any other lawyer, well…” Edgeworth trailed off, a small smile gracing his face, but his eyes were hard and cold.

Phoenix chuckled mirthlessly. “You did everything you could to refuse my services.”

Edgeworth’s gaze met his once again. His eyes were still steely, but his smile grew. “That I did. I am forever grateful I folded when I did.”

Light footsteps padded down the hallway. Phoenix started, but relaxed when the door creaked open to reveal Trucy, still blinking away the last vestiges of fleeting sleep. “Daddy?”

“Hey, Truce.” He gave her an easy smile. “Uncle Miles and I are just working on one of his cases.”

Trucy stepped fully into the room and joined him on the couch. She leaned into him, and he wrapped her in a bear hug, relishing the comfort of his daughter in his arms and the fading warmth from her bed. She fit perfectly in his embrace, like a missing puzzle piece he never knew he needed.

It wasn’t quite perfect, though. Not yet. Phoenix cracked one eye open and, after a terrifying moment of deliberation, risked taking a hand off Trucy to beckon Edgeworth in.

Edgeworth startled at the invitation, eyes blown wide. He stood awkwardly next to the couch, case files forgotten. At first, it seemed like he would refuse. But Trucy, perceptive as ever even with her eyes closed, reached out and clamped a small hand around his wrist. Phoenix was fully aware of her surprising strength for an eight-year-old (although easily used to it, from Pearl - was this just how eight-year-old girls were?). Edgeworth, on the other hand, resided in Germany half the time and spent another chunk of his free time traveling the globe in his research of foreign judicial systems. His time with Trucy was much more limited (especially since Phoenix was loath to put Edgeworth in any danger from his mystery nemesis) and he was thus much more susceptible to her charms. Trucy successfully pulled Edgeworth in.

He fit into the hug perfectly. It felt like a tuning fork turned over Phoenix’s sternum. Home. Safe. 

Phoenix knew then, deep in his gut. This was his family. This was how they were meant to be.

For the first time since the Bar Association had stripped him of his attorney’s badge, hope sparked inside Phoenix. Times may be dire, but he had the people he needed right around him.

Tomorrow he would finally call Maya and Pearl back. He would call in all the favors Gumshoe owed him, and bring over Larry for old times’ sake. They would begin planning. They would begin fighting back. For Trucy’s safety, if nothing else.

But most of all, Phoenix just wanted to hold Edgeworth without worrying about the consequences.

  Summer

  [July 6, 2001

2:02 PM

Watterson Neighborhood Pool]

 “Don’t you wanna come play with us?” 

Miles peeked over the top of his book to see Phoenix, grinning at him toothily. He leaned forward, cupping a hand around his mouth theatrically. “I wanna push Larry in the pool.”

The friend in question had seemingly abandoned Phoenix. Across the pool deck, Larry was unsuccessfully attempting to chat up the lifeguard, who was clearly at least ten years older than he was.

“He was supposed to be getting us ice cream,” Phoenix said, the pout audible in his voice. But when Miles glanced back at him, he was smiling. Still having fun, despite it all.

That was Phoenix for you.

“I… might be amenable to that,” Miles confessed, hiding his small smile behind his book. His efforts were rendered futile when Phoenix broke out in a full-blown grin and punched his fist in the air, dancing around Miles’ beach chair. Phoenix’s excitement was as infectious as always.

Carefully, Miles bookmarked his book, noting where the last word he read was located, and set it down on his chair. After making sure it was safely in the shade, he followed Phoenix around the deck of the pool.

Larry turned at the sight of them. “Hey, dudes! So I know I said I would get ice cream, but I got something better! You see, I met this girl…”

The lifeguard sighed, dropping her head into her hands. “You are ten years old.”

Miles wasn’t really sure how they were going to go about this, but it seemed Phoenix had no patience. Cutting Larry off mid-sentence, he simply reached out and shoved Larry in the pool.

Miles choked on his laughter.

“Hey!” Larry emerged from beneath the surface, coughing and sputtering, his usually-voluminous hair drooping and plastered to his face. “Miles! Nicky!”

“You said you would get us ice cream!” Phoenix yelled back, fists propped on his hips. “Stop flirting with the lifeguard!” The lifeguard snorted at that.

“I was on my way over!” Larry protested, paddling over to the side of the pool. He gripped onto the side, right below Phoenix and Miles. He paused, and a mischievous grin grew on his face.

Phoenix’s eyes widened and he stepped back. “Larry, wait-”

“Hahaha! Take that!” Laughing, Larry splashed hard, splattering the shrieking Phoenix and Miles with droplets of water. “That’s what you get!”

“Hey!” Unrepentant, Phoenix leaned forward and stuck his hand in the water, splashing Larry back. After a moment of deliberation, Miles dunked his foot in and kicked water at Larry.

The lifeguard, sitting above them, rolled her eyes and leveled the three of them with an unimpressed glare. “Okay, you three. Until you can learn proper water safety, take it away from the pool.”

“Sorry, miss,” Miles said, properly chastised.

At the sincere apology, the lifeguard’s lips curled up in a small, amused grin. “It’s fine, kid. Just go have fun somewhere else where you won’t get hurt.”

“Will do,” Miles promised, smiling.

“C’mon, Miles!” Phoenix grabbed his wrist and pulled him along in a run after Larry. “We have to get Larry back!”

“Was he not getting us back for pushing him in the pool?” Miles pointed out, smiling ruefully. Yet he kept pace with Phoenix, lagging slightly behind so Phoenix wouldn’t let go of his wrist. Miles was no stranger to affectionate physical contact (Uncle Ray alone would fill that void), but Phoenix’s friendly taps and touches always felt... Different. He couldn’t quite articulate why he felt the way he did, or how Phoenix’s touch felt different from anyone else. Logically, if he had to choose whose love meant the most to him, it was his father’s, no contest. Yet Phoenix’s mere presence made him feel something different from his friendship with Larry, and even from his relationship with his father. He had no idea what it was. It frustrated Miles to no end. 

(Of course Miles knew about crushes. He read books all the time! He was no stranger to love, as he watched it dominate the society around him. His father was never specific, but he’d told Miles many times in no uncertain terms he loved him no matter what. For that matter, he’d explained his own aromanticism and asexuality to Miles a while back. It was more that Miles never realized he  could get crushes yet, much less on his already-established friends. He always figured if he fell in love, he would know it.)

(In his defense, he would know it, just… much later.)

Phoenix glanced back to catch Miles’ gaze, shaking him out of his stupor. At the sight of Phoenix’s euphoric grin, all of Miles’ musings fled his mind all at once. 

“Come on, we almost have him!” Phoenix called, urging Miles onward. Miles complied, sporting a playful smile of his own.

As Phoenix and Miles rounded a bend in the path, Larry appeared in their sights up ahead. When he spotted them, he let out an undignified squawk and quickened his pace, waving his arms wildly.

“You can’t run forever, Larry!” Phoenix yelled through peals of laughter. “Miles and I will catch you!”

“Just try me!” Larry squealed from somewhere up ahead. “You’ll never catch me!”

It was at that moment that Phoenix and Miles rounded another corner and caught Larry at a dead end. 

“Objection,” Miles said, in the poised and dignified way his father did in court and certainly  not broken up with snickers. “You have reached the end of the path.”

“Nowhere to run, Larry.” Phoenix grinned, a sharp and dangerous thing that sent a strong bolt of  something running through Miles’ veins. The threat was slightly undercut by Phoenix’s free hand, held out towards Larry, fingers wiggling with a treacherous promise. “It’s the end of the line.”

In the end, Miles’ only regret was that Phoenix let go of his wrist to ensnare Larry in a tickle fight. 

He missed the comforting warmth encircling his wrist, but it was worth it to affectionately terrorize Larry. Within minutes, they had dissolved into an all-out tickle war, punctuated by euphoric giggles. They ran circles on the field above the pool, the short grass tickling Miles’ bare feet. Together, Phoenix and Miles lay waste to a dead-in-the-water (which was a phrase Miles had heard his father use to describe certain trials and culprits, but didn’t know the full nuances of its definition yet) Larry, laughing all the while.

By the time they were all tired out, the sun was low in the sky, tinting the sky cotton-candy pink. The pool water’s vibrant blue was replaced with a creamy orange when they ran back down the path to it. The lifeguard smiled wryly when she spotted them, and Miles smiled shyly back.

Instead of going back into the pool, they chose the ice cream stand, finally getting their due. Phoenix and Larry watched with starry eyes while Miles carefully counted and paid with the money his father had pressed lovingly into his hand. Ice cream in hand at last, Larry found a place to sit on a big rock overlooking the pool. They sat, shoulders pressed against each other, swinging their bare feet in the air.

Phoenix nudged Miles with his shoulder. “Hey, Miles.”

Miles glanced over. “Hmm?”

In the fiery glow of the setting sun, the sight of Phoenix made Miles’ heart skip a beat. His heterochromatic eyes were soft and glazed over with faraway thoughts, and his spiky hair fluffed and mussy from hours running around and Larry ruffling it in their fight. A drop of vanilla ice cream was smeared at the corner of his lip, and it took all Miles had to keep from primly wiping it away.

“Thanks for playing with us,” Phoenix said, smiling softly. He turned the full force of his kind gaze on Miles, who suddenly felt the urge to shield his eyes from the metaphorical light. “I had a really good time today.”

Miles replied with an affectionate smile of his own. “I did as well.”

“Hey!” On Phoenix’s other side, Larry elbowed him with a bony arm, causing Phoenix to squawk indignantly. “I had fun too!”

Phoenix ruffled Larry’s thick hair with his free arm. “I’m glad, doofus.”

Larry grinned. “You’d better be.”

Without realizing it, Miles leaned further into Phoenix's shoulder as he squabbled with Larry. He froze for a second, then continued like nothing had happened. When Phoenix didn't react, Miles relaxed, slumping against his friend. Phoenix's hand brushed against his own. As Larry and Phoenix chattered excitedly, Miles zoned out, staring off into the ever-changing sunset. He rarely felt so comfortable.

A half an hour later, Father ceased his conversation with Phoenix’s mother and Larry’s older cousin and walked over to them, smiling. “All right, Miles. Ready to go?”

Miles nodded, jumping off the rock. “Yes, Father. Goodbye Phoenix, Larry!”

“Bye, Edgey!” Larry called, waving. 

“Stop calling me that,” Miles muttered under his breath, but without much heat behind it. They both knew Larry would not stop calling him that.

Phoenix jumped off the rock to join him. “Bye, Miles! I had a lot of fun today!”

“Me too,” Miles replied, smiling.

Father took Miles’ hand in his, and together they walked out of the pool. As Father opened the pool deck door, Miles turned around and waved to his friends. Larry was preoccupied bothering his older sister (until Phoenix elbowed him pointedly), but Phoenix waved back enthusiastically, beaming.

“So, did you have a good time with your friends?” Father asked, once they were both situated in the car.

Miles thought of sweet ice cream in his mouth and the feel of shorn grass underneath his feet and Larry’s wriggling form avoiding his hands. He thought of Phoenix’s smile, as bright as the summer sun. “Yes, Father. I did.”

Father smiled, soft and affectionate. “Oh, Miles, I’m so glad.”

Fall

  [October 9, 2029

5:04 PM

People Park]

 The crisp crunch of leaves underfoot filled the air, dominating as the loudest sound once Athena and Trucy’s laughter faded into the distance. After their latest case finished up, Phoenix had driven his junior partners (and daughter/co-counsel) to the park to let off some steam. Some prosecutors had deigned to join them, and thus (somewhat disgruntledly, in Blackquill’s case) fell in with the kids running on ahead. Apollo, back from Khura'in on an extended vacation, was more than happy to join them and catch up.

Phoenix was content to let them run on ahead. He wasn’t as young as he used to be (even if he was only thirty-five). He strode through the park in a casual, easy gait, hands in his pockets. 

It was nice. The fall breeze rustled through his spiky hair, and he closed his eyes in contentment. The wind was quite noisy, whistling through crinkly leaves and thin branches.

As he listened, he caught the telltale crunch of footsteps on fallen leaves. Phoenix opened his eyes with an easy grin to catch Edgeworth, stepping in time with him.

The late-afternoon sunlight, dappled as it filters through the tree cover, lit Miles’ dark gray coat in warm shades of silver. His hair and glasses shone in the light. Phoenix melted at the sight of him.

Miles had changed in the many years they’ve known each other. His shoulders got broader and his form more filled out, his hair became smoother and shinier, and the glasses perched on his nose made the changes all the more apparent. But to Phoenix, the real changes lay in the way Miles carried himself. He still had the confidence he had as a little kid and a prodigy prosecutor, but it manifested differently. Now his confidence was self-assured. Miles knew he’d worked hard for everything he had. He knew he deserved it. 

“Hey there,” Phoenix said, eyes sparkling. “Nice of you to drop in.”

“Hello, yourself,” Miles replied. He met Phoenix’s gaze with an Edgeworth-brand warm, affectionate smile that never failed to make Phoenix all gooey inside. 

Phoenix stepped closer, bridging the gap so their shoulders are brushing. Miles intertwined their hands, smiling so sweetly and chastely it made Phoenix’s entire face turn red.

Phoenix squeezed their joined hands

“Phoenix,” Miles sighed contentedly. “I am so happy to be here with you.”

Phoenix knew his face was lighting up, mostly because of the lovesick look Miles always made when it did. They melted in tandem, always together. “Love you too, Miles.”

As they walked, Phoenix tipped his head back, letting the dappled sunlight wash his face alight. He’d heard talks of love manifesting itself in a joy that made you feel weightless - hell, he’d felt that way himself, many times. Almost always with Miles himself. All the times that counted, at least. But today, like many other days, Miles’ hand in his was a comforting, grounding weight. He never felt trapped or limited, yet tethered to the ground all the same. It was the promise of someone there to catch him if he flew away again.

Dahlia (or Iris, really) made him feel unmoored, floating aimlessly without control. It was a dangerous game and he paid the price, but the honeymoon phase of love blinded him to the truth. With Miles, Phoenix still felt like he could float. But this time, he knew where he was going. He knew how to come back to Earth, where Miles would be waiting for him.

Phoenix dropped his head onto Miles’ shoulder, smiling as he heard the other hum contentedly. He could’ve stayed there forever, if not for the crick building in his neck. Stupid limited human body, breaking at the old age of thirty-five.

On the other side of the park, Trucy’s joyous shout caught both of the fathers’ attention. Their little posse of children, both official and unofficial, emerged from under the tree cover. Athena’s bright orange hair, usually so distinctive, blended in seamlessly with the fiery-golden autumn leaves. Phoenix would bet money the other kids had taken notice of this, if just for Blackquill’s smirk as he tugged gently on the tail end of Athena’s ponytail. Behind them, Klavier was laughing, beaming at Apollo with a lovesick grin Phoenix himself had mirrored many times looking at Miles. Apollo himself was blushing as red as his suit and fighting a ferocious smile. Trucy danced around them, light as a fairy on her feet as her pastel blue magician’s outfit floated around her. She caught everyone’s eye, sparking each of their smiles. At last, she spun, glancing across the park and finding Phoenix and Miles immediately. Her smile only grew, and Phoenix’s with it.

“We got lucky, didn’t we?” Phoenix murmured, squeezing Miles’ hand. “I don’t know if I could be happier.”

Miles hummed contemplatively. “I don’t know if luck is the right word,” he pondered. “It took a lot of hard work to get where we are now. Don’t sell yourself short, Phoenix.”

Phoenix huffed a small, breathy laugh. “I’ll try not to. The world certainly does too much of that.”

“Maybe so,” Miles agreed, but he pursed his lips thoughtfully like he didn’t quite believe himself. He spread his arms, gesturing to the pack of young attorneys across the park. “But look around you, Phoenix. You are surrounded by people who love and care for you. Not just here, but all over LA, and the world.”

Phoenix gently knocked his shoulder into Miles’. “That’s true,” he said, gazing softly at their faraway companions. “But the same’s true for you, you know?”

Miles followed his gaze, locked on the next generation of attorneys, so to speak. “I do,” he said, soft and full of love. “I never would have come this far if not for you in particular, Phoenix.”

Phoenix squeezed his hand. “Likewise,” he said warmly. “We’re good for each other, aren’t we?”

Miles smiled softly. “I would certainly say so.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they continued their circle around the park. In the distance, the kids had passed three-fourths of the way ahead of Phoenix and Miles, and were disconcertingly close to lapping them completely.

“I want to have a get-together,” Phoenix said suddenly. He noticed Miles’ head snapped towards him in his peripheral vision, but his focus was far away. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen Maya and Pearls. And there’s a bunch of people who live right here in LA that we never see! I’m tired of it.”

Miles smiled fondly, brushing his thumb over Phoenix’s knuckles. “I am in complete agreement. I will do my best to secure my sister from her Interpol business.”

“Maya’ll like that,” Phoenix said, the corners of his mouth twisting up in a teasing grin, even though the object of his mirth was far away. “As will I.”

“Good, then it’s settled,” Edgeworth declared. He pushed up his glasses so they flashed in the light. “We shall begin planning immediatel- Nghoooh!”

Phoenix noticed the pounding footsteps and peals of laughter from behind a second too late. He turned just in time to see Trucy, Athena, Blackquill, and Klavier (Apollo was pointedly hanging off to the side and trying to pretend he wasn’t watching), sporting matching mischievous grins, barreling into him and Miles. They landed in a pile of fallen leaves just off the path, sending leaves and twigs flying.

Phoenix coughed and groaned, stretching his poor back. “What the heck was that for?!”

“Just for fun, Daddy,” Trucy giggled. “You and Papa looked a bit too serious. We just wanted to lighten the mood!”

“Objection.” Miles sat up, coughing. “We were quite literally discussing our affections for each other.”

“Aww,” Klavier and Athena cooed in tandem. Apollo rolled his eyes.

Trucy shrugged, unrepentant. “Well, it still lightened the mood, didn’t it? Anyway, that’s what you slowpokes get for ditching us!”

“You ditched us!” Phoenix protested.

“Either way,” Athena said as she offered a hand to Phoenix, who gratefully accepted, “You should walk the next lap with us. We’ll slow down for you,” she added cheekily.

Phoenix grumbled good-naturedly. “Fine, but we’re setting the pace.”

“How many laps are we walking, again?” he heard Blackquill mutter to Apollo.

As their newly-merged group set off, Phoenix slung an arm around Miles’ shoulder. Trucy’s hand found his free one. Phoenix smiled and tipped his head back to the sky.

There was nowhere else he would rather be. There was no one he would rather be with.

"Thank you for being in my life," he whispered into Miles' ear.

Miles glanced back at him, curious. "I bestow the same compliment onto you," he replied, smiling. "Tenfold."

"Oh, shush, if you get to increase it so do I," Phoenix snorted, swatting at Miles (which was a little difficult since his arm was still wrapped around Miles' shoulder). "Let's just say it's equal, okay?"

"The prosecution accepts the defense's proposition," Miles agreed. "I love you.”

~

hello, everyone! this is my first completed and published work in the ace attorney fandom, and i'm really excited about it!

if you saw this work pop up on ao3 yesterday for like five minutes... no you didn't ;) i was up at around midnight two days ago night working on this. i double-checked the timeline for narumitsu week and i was like hey wait a minute. it's the sixth. tomorrow's the seventh. oh fuck i am nowhere near done. i was hoping to publish this early in the day too, so it would be in the tag all day. i may have rushed through the ending of this fic yesterday thinking it was the final day of the week. i published it on ao3 and then checked the narumitsu week tumblr blog to see how i'm supposed to tag and publish tumblr posts. i was like hey there are no day 7 entries. that's really odd. i checked tnhe blog, the tag, the blog again, etc etc. i was freaking out akdhksla! i finally glanced at the date and i was like hey wait a minute. it's only the sixth. i screwed myself up khfkala;sdl. also i almost forgot about narumitsu week until day 2, when i speedran this fic (and a couple other snippets based on prompts i might finish and publish later). i figured i'd try and get at least one contribution for the final day, which seemed easy enough, but i got distracted a lot haha.

god the amount of times i accidentally wrote in present tense and had to go back and edit aaaaaaaaa

im pretty sure edgeworth was never actually there in july, but this was the perfect setting for the kiddos, so... just suspend your disbelief for a lil bit. they deserve a summer pool day. the pool in question was based a lot on the community pool near my house, where i grew up swimming competitively for five or so years! it's built on a hill, and the upper part of the space is taken up by a grassy field and a clubhouse. so in my mind that's where phoenix, miles, and larry go for their tickle fight.

also the bit about edgeworth not knowing he's supposed to get crushes when he has one is basically the reverse of my personal experience skdfhks. i'm aroace, and around fourth/fifth grade i got nervous around a guy who intimidated me and i was like hmm. this person scares me, but he's funny and i want to be friends. he's a boy and i'm a girl (or so i thought LMAO). is this a crush? autistic kids who don't understand the social norms of crushes solidarity is real. it's between me and a game character but it's real.

title is from put your records on by corrine bailey rae! i've been saving this particular lyric for a title for a long time, and i'm really happy to finally find a fic where it really fits!

this is a bit messy and i'm still getting used to the characters' voices but it was really fun to write. if you read this far, thank you c:

if you ever wanna talk ace attorney, writing, these amazing characters, or really anything hmu here on tumblr or on my twitter! i have terminal ace attorney brainrot and i cannot talk about it enough. i really need more aa friends, haha. thank you for reading, and please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed it!

[doodlingstuff]

Some facts we may have forgotten about AFTG/TFC

I read Courting Madness from the first to the last post just to find why the author is censored (bc of salad??? someone explain!!!). Didn't find the answer, but stumbled upon these fun facts instead:

•The Foxes were meant to be Japanese, except for Dan and Neil •They were meant to be exchange highschool students from the USA •Dan and Neil are also the only ones whose names never changed along with the drafts •Dan's story was finished in a NaNoWriMo, but never released •Dan and Wymack's bond is even in their initials: DW & DW •Wymack is the only positive fatherly figure in the series. •Abby was a big motherly figure who lost importance as drafts advanced •To the point she was forgotten in the Fox line up after the end of The Foxhole Court's first edition •Edgar Allan is misspelled most of the story •That's why most of us tend to refer to it as "Edgar Allen" •The twinyards names in Japanese were made up •It was originally a YA (technically it's a New Adult, icymi) •Andrew used to have a pigtail and Kevin had long hair •Both hairstyles were trimmed between drafts and the change from manga/comic to novel •Kandreil was one of the last things to go away •Kevineil happened first, but eventually, Andreil overpowered it •Their personalities were a big clash that wouldn't have worked out •Kevin was taken out from their relationship because he was sort of the "weakest link" •Seth was named Sean most of the story •"Exy" comes from "Ecstasy", and that comes from other Japanese words I was too lazy to translate •Andreil was meant to happen since TRK, but their personalities got in the way and slowed the romance •In one of the final drafts, Aaron and Neil changed rooms before Andreil's first kiss •After returning all banged up from Evermore, Andrew wanted to keep an eye on Neil at all times to prevent him from pulling another stunt •There is a soundtrack for Neil, another for Andreil, and another one for the Foxes •The author’s real name is Mary. Coincidence that Neil’s and Nicky’s mom share that name? (María is Mary in Spanish)

How many of these did you remeber/knew about?

Also, if you can solve the mystery for me and tell me why the author is censored by some fans, I’ll be really thankful.

[morgana-ren]

Here's a sappy idea: that tidbit where Tomura is sitting on the bathroom floor, talking to you while you're in the shower, bored and missing you already (even though you've only been 10 minutes) might as well invite him in and wash his hair and watch him try to hide his blush from all the nice, gentle affection.

Remember how I always say I’m bad at answering asks? This is from like well over a year ago.

I’M SORRY BATHY TOMURA ANON. and every other anon in the graveyard. I love you all.

Anyway, clingy boyfriend Tomura who sits on the bathroom shower and plays his switch because he just doesn’t like to be away from you. It’s just automatic for him; you get up, grab your towel and a new set of jammies and he just gets up and follows you in there. Plops down on the tile right outside the bathtub and goes right back to playing whatever it was on his handheld.

You can sit and relax under the hot water for as long as you’d like, but no matter how long it takes, you can always count on your companion sitting cross legged just outside the rim of the tub, occasionally wiping away the steam from his screen with the sleeve of his shirt. Even as his skin gets damp and he starts to sweat, he never leaves. Most he will do is crack the door to the bathroom a tad, and proceed to immediately kick it shut with his foot when he thinks he hears someone coming.

Most of the time, he’ll just play patiently while he waits for you to finish, but sometimes, sometimes if you’re gentle, you can coax him into the water with you. It takes a bit of effort. Soft coos of affection and maybe even a little begging, but eventually he’ll shyly shuck his clothes off and force you to turn around as he slips into the water behind you.

When he lets you turn and look at him, his cheeks are ruddy and not because of the hot water. No matter what dynamic you two have in the bedroom, he’s not used to the soft, loving affection you offer him, and baring his entire body before another person in a non-sexual manner is still very uncomfortable for him. His bony arms try to hide his shame, and he lets the water slop off in droplets from his hair and onto his face as his bangs slick down around his cheeks.

His muscles are still tensed as you bring the shampoo bottle to his head and apply a liberal amount before rubbing your fingers gently through his wintery hair. He might quietly scold you once or twice for letting the bubbles drip down into his eyes, but it’s mainly just his defense mechanism. He quiets down when you lather it into his hair, massaging his scalp with your nails and rubbing your thumbs onto his temples.

When he relaxes enough, he won’t fight you as you slick his hair back and pull him into the water to rinse it out. Stroke his back and work on his shoulder muscles as you put the conditioner in his hair and eventually he becomes a big pile of jelly.

He’ll kick the stopper down with his feet and turn the shower off, pulling you down into the bath with him, your back against his chest. Maybe you’ll nuzzle into him as he gently kisses the top of your head, or maybe he’ll twirl your wet tresses between four of his fingers. Maybe he’ll just quietly sit there as you trace your nails along his wet arm and soggy fingers, eventually interlocking with him. He won’t talk, not much anyway, so the soundtrack to your romantic moment will be whatever music beeps from the pause screen of his switch, but it doesn’t impact the moment. Between your vulnerability and his, neither one of you are thinking too hard about it.

He gets the towel first, though.

[writer-and-artist27]

Knowing What to Say

Note: Written to process my own feelings with finishing Lostbelt 4 and my own position of being a Vietnamese-American, having been born to two Vietnamese immigrants who dealt with colonization firsthand when coming to America.

Inspired by @partialdignity and @lunarimpact. I hope you two don’t mind the tags, but I couldn’t help it considering you finished LB4 way before me and shared your own thoughts on it a while back. And well, much like you two, I don’t entirely agree with Mash’s decision in Lostbelt 4, Section 20-2, but at the same time, that doesn’t mean I don’t understand the sentiment behind it.

Even if Mash has been around a bit too much for others’ liking, considering she’s fighting old comrades of hers while still supporting us, the Lostbelts are challenging her as they are to us as people.

This is just Vy’s take on the final moments of a world that probably didn’t deserve what it received.

CW for implied emotional abuse and Lostbelt 4 spoilers. Theme for this little piece is Residual Ice from Fate/Grand Order’s own soundtrack. Please enjoy.

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

“Is it alright… if we could stop by one last place before we go install Captain’s last part into the Shadow Border? There’s someone I wanted to visit, Da Vinci.”

Vy felt her heart ache when hearing Mash say those words, but in spite of the sympathy starting to flood her veins, she still gave Mash a look past her foggy glasses. “You want to see Asha, Mash?”

Robin and Ereshkigal didn’t say anything from over Vy’s shoulder — if they wanted to, they didn’t seem up for voicing it. The consecutive battles with that other version of Arjuna and the Tree of Emptiness were already enough to make Vy want to sleep for years. Who knows how the Servants felt, having to shoulder all the fighting with only one Command Spell to back them up. Still, Vy could feel their concern bleed through their shared bond, warming the back of her neck and the inside of her chest, and Vy clenched her fingers for a moment as she looked towards Mash.

Mash Kyrielight. Beloved kouhai, wonderful friend, strong Demi-Servant — and a teenager who shouldn’t have had to fight as much as she did. Vy didn’t regret bringing Mash with her through everything — Mash was a little sister in all but name now. After everything they had experienced in that crumbling Command Room, with all the flames, there was no way Vy could regret knowing Mash and growing to love her. It was hard to imagine going on any Chaldea-related mission without her. But if Vy had the right idea about what Mash wanted to do—

“I-I think we need to, Senpai,” Mash said softly, her hand clutching the handles of her Ortinax shield all the more tighter with the words being out in the open. “With Arjuna gone now, and… and with this Lostbelt fading soon, the least we can do is tell her what happened to Ajai. Asha deserves that much.”

Vy took a breath, carefully brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she considered her answer. “…Because we’re the ones who ended her world?” Because we’re the ones who, unintentionally or not, made it impossible for Ajai to ever come back to his daughter again? Because we’re the ones who can’t tell Dr. Roman everything anymore?

Da Vinci’s hologram took on a sad look as Holmes fell silent. Vy didn’t have to turn to know Ereshkigal had tears in her eyes and Robin was close enough to her to feel his hand start to brush hers.

Mash merely nodded and Vy studied her for a moment. Mash’s arms, although muscular and covered in the Ortinax’s armor, were shaking. Her purple eyes, even when shaded by the goggles from the Ortinax armor sitting atop her head, appeared sad, hesitant, and yet determined all at once.

She really feels…

Vy took another breath before striding over to Mash’s side (only after gently reaching back to squeeze Robin’s hand for one extra second of composure), gently brushing some dust off of Mash’s right shoulder. “What do you intend to say when we’re seeing her, Mash? Can I at least ask that before we go?”

“I—” Mash faltered, her gaze flickering back and forth between Vy’s face and her shield. “I wanted to tell her that the reincarnation cycles that she went through were wrong. That it was wrong for her to forget her father, that she didn’t deserve what happened. That…” Mash bit her lip, hanging her head, “that it’s all over now.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, kouhai, I really do,” Vy said softly, retracting her hand, “but can I say something to that?”

Mash slowly raised her head to meet Vy’s eyes past her glasses, blinking owlishly. “Wh-What is it, Senpai?”

“Thank you for letting me speak,” Vy said kindly first, a weak smile forming on her lips before it dropped in favor of the silence that surrounded them and the former ocean of milk where the Tree of Emptiness once stood. “And, as much as I understand why you want to tell Asha those things, Mash, I think we shouldn’t say everything. Just leave it at, ‘We have to go, and we’ll miss you.’”

“Wha—” Mash’s eyes widened enough to resemble dinner plates, her shoulders tensing in her armor. “What do you mean, Senpai? Are we just—” Her voice rose to an emotional high, her eyebrows furrowing on her forehead past her bangs as she said, “Are we just not letting Asha know what happened to one of her last living relatives?!”

“I didn’t say all that, Mash.” Something was starting to ache in Vy’s chest, but she pushed it aside. “But kouhai, Asha’s lived with these yuga cycles for who knows how long,” Vy continued in a softer voice, shaking her head. “The last thing we want to do is shatter her own mental world with the knowledge we have before we go, just because we feel guilty about what we’ve done. Who knows how much that’ll weigh on her before this Lostbelt disappears, knowing that she had a father that she can’t remember? How could we predict her reaction to knowing that all her prayers and her life was an utter lie that didn’t deserve to happen? What could we do about that?”

Mash lurched back at that, her breath coming out in a shaky exhale. “I-I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t, Mash,” Vy said quietly, the same small smile from before forming on her lips. “And I know taking down these Lostbelts is just as hard on you as it is for everyone else.” I can feel it, right here, right now. “But I don’t think you or me have the right to tell Asha what is right to believe when only a few days ago, losing people in the yugas was normal. When it was her daily life.”

Mash opened her mouth, then closed it. Then, she said in a voice barely above a whisper, “Did you go through the same thing at one point, Senpai?”

Did someone break you?

Vy closed her eyes and took another breath, slowly opening them to look at Mash again. She couldn’t think about the metal device still resting in her pocket, about the last phone call she had on said device before everything turned white. “Ignorance is bliss sometimes, kouhai,” Vy said, finally raising a hand to gently rest it atop Mash’s head, patting her hair softly. “Even if we don’t agree with it, we are still outsiders to this Lostbelt. And I’ve heard enough from my own family about how outsiders meddled with our home in Vietnam, telling us our beliefs were meaningless and that our lifestyles were barbaric and wrong. I don’t want you to be associated with that kind of sentiment.”

Even if I can understand where you’re coming from and feel the same way. But…

Mash stared at Vy past the hand she was using to still pat her head, a small hint of tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes. “Senpai…”

Vy smiled at Mash one last time, leaning over to press a weak yet sisterly kiss to the top of Mash’s hair. “I’m not telling you to stop with whatever you’re thinking. I understand where you’re coming from, Mash, I really do. I’m just saying we’re going to have to rephrase it, just so that Asha can live peacefully for as long as she can. Alright?” So that she won’t turn out like me, scarred, anxious, and wondering if she even deserves anything after being ignorant for so long.

“Senpai…” Mash whispered. “I…” A small pause, then Mash eventually choked out, “You…”

She’s hesitating. I guess…

“…I was told I wasn’t worthy of life once,” Vy whispered into Mash’s hair as she looked towards Robin and Ereshkigal still waiting back at the Shadow Border. It took only a second to pull back and turn away from Mash’s gaze. “When I was little, long before I came to Chaldea. I haven’t forgotten it.”

Vy could faintly hear Mash gasp.

“‘Stop making yourself out like a mouse to be protected,’ he said,” Vy recalled, shrugging her shoulders as she walked towards the Shadow Border. “‘Stop looking at fairy tales and start looking at reality, else you’re not worthy to be in my reality.’ It was all said and done when I was about 11 years old, by someone I thought I could trust. My world was shattered by someone I thought I could love, kouhai. And my family didn’t know. I didn’t know until just recently.” With a small sigh, Vy reached Robin’s side first, and the May King gave her a look past the fringe of his hair. “If not for a certain rogue in green, I still don’t know if I would even be here at all.”

Robin stilled, his fingers twitching before he offered one arm, and Ereshkigal immediately took Vy’s hand in hers. Without hesitation, Vy put her other hand into Robin’s outstretched one, squeezing both Servants’ fingers tightly.

If not for everyone here…

Vy glanced over her shoulder to look at her beloved kouhai and smiled, holding back the tears in her voice. “It hurt enough when I didn’t know what to believe in, Mash,” Vy said softly. “All I’m trying to say is…” A lump surfaced in Vy’s throat, her nose starting to itch as her vision blurred a little, but she still squeezed Eresh and Robin’s hands before finishing with, “let’s just try not to break the beliefs of another little girl when we go, okay?”

Vy chanced one second to glance behind her. All she caught was a single tear that proceeded to slide down Mash’s cheek before she nodded, taking the former shield of Galahad up into her arms. “O-Okay.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Can we pleaaaaaase have some chris freakout and kauri looking after him? Like maybe the first time chris ever really has a meltdown near kauri and kauri helps him or just freaks out himself just ahhhh i love these two

CW: Description of gunshot, PTSD flashback to parental death, meltdown, panic attack, some references to conditioning/pet whump, negative stimming

It’s just some asshole kids playing with fireworks, that’s all. That’s all it is, and Kauri would have been more careful, but he hadn’t known there was anything he needed to be careful for. 

He’s sitting on the grass at a park sending Jake texts to distract him from studying, playing a game they do sometimes where they tell a story with emojis alone and then the other one records a voice-text trying to guess what the story is, and then the other one says how much they got right. 

He brought Chris here because he discovered this park has a whole wood-and-metal adult playground, with uneven bars like the ones in the videos of gymnasts Chris watches on Jake’s laptop sometimes, plus a climbing wall and all kinds of things.

Chris is swinging back and forth with an easy sort of confidence, smiling to himself and occasionally checking to see if Kauri is looking as he swings himself up and over the bar, seems to hang in the air for a second despite the pull of gravity, and then back down again.

Like a pendulum, Chris swings for momentum, and then he lets go and catches the next bar, laughing, throwing his boundless, endless energy into the movements his body knows even though his brain doesn’t, and Kauri takes a second to watch him switch directions and swing back up onto the higher bar, throwing himself full-throttle, and he’ll come home scraped up and probably bruised and Kauri will have to explain to Nat that it’s impossible to want to stop him when he’s like this, all his soft nervousness shed in the pursuit of something that makes him - simply, and uncomplicatedly - happy.

Especially when he’d started out so sad.

In the parking lot nearby, a bunch of teenagers not much younger than Chris have been fucking around with fireworks the whole time. Boys with knobby elbows and an awkward self-consciousness bragging about who does the stupidest things, girls with long legs and braces laughing together, shining hair mixing in red and brown and blond as they lean into each other. 

Chris looked at them, when they first showed up, eight people stuffed into somebody’s two-door sports car climbing out like clowns at a circus, and Kauri saw the look on his face and knew it for what it was, the longing for a life he can’t get back.

He’s just a kid, and these are just kids, but there’s an ocean between them that Chris can’t overcome.

Even though he looks like them, has the same awkward gait, the same way of hunching his shoulders as if trying to be invisible, the same heavy, woe-is-me sighs and eye-rolls when he feels safe enough to push back at Nat and Jake like any other kid would... even though he looks like them, he isn’t them. 

He’s a teenager, and he has more in common with Kauri than he does anyone else. He and Kauri have a shared wealth of pain, and all he has in common with those kids now is that, once upon a time, he might have been like them.

But he wants to be like them still, it was written all over his face. 

Kauri hadn’t said anything. He’s not-... he’s not good at that, at bringing Chris out of himself. He’s not Jake, who Chris will rip himself open for, let out all his thoughts and let Jake rearrange the jumbled parts.

He’s not Nat, who can simply sense Chris’s need for a mother and give him one.

He’s not even Antoni, who can show his care somehow in simply the depth of feeling in his slightly narrowed eyes, the well of emotion he keeps there, that he doesn’t have to speak to show. 

He’s just Kauri.

He’s just here.

So he just let Chris have his moment, watched the wistfulness work itself across his expression, his soft slight rocking, listened to his low quiet hum. 

Kauri watched Chris make himself be silent, and go still, until the desire to fit in passed. He should have had an answer, some ready-made platitude or piece of comfort, but he didn’t. 

After a moment - two moments - three... Chris turned and went to the exercise equipment. It had taken a while, but he lost himself, eventually, in the movement, the swing of his body from one space to another, the strain of muscles pushed to their limits in ways he still loves.

Kauri watched him forget, after a while, and find happiness in what his body could do instead of what his brain can’t.

The kids had brought out fireworks from the trunk of the car, and Chris’s climb up a fake rock wall had a soundtrack of hissing and fizzing and pops. 

They must have pulled out the big stuff, eventually. 

Kauri’s lost in grinning as he looks at a return text from Jake when there’s suddenly a sharp, deafening crack in the air that makes Kauri jump nearly three feet, scrambling onto his feet out of sheer surprise.

He doesn’t hear the thump as Chris, mid-swing from one bar to another, tenses, misses the catch, and hits the ground flat on his back.

The teenagers cheer, clapping each other on the back, yelling fuck yeah do it again, and as Kauri catches his breath a second one goes off, a third, a fourth. They’re too close together, and there are people yelling at them to cut that shit out.

The kids laugh and shout and flip off the adults telling them to stop, emboldened by the adrenaline rush, by the sheer number of them, by the way a few other people are cheering happily, too.

Kauri’s heart races for reasons he can’t fathom and he snaps, “What the fuck, at least warn us, you little shits!”

“Fuck off!” A boy yells back, but he’s not the one who catches Kauri’s eye. One of the girls off to the side isn’t smiling anymore, but staring outright behind Kauri, eyes widening, and it’s not at the fireworks.

Another one goes off, the crack making Kauri’s ears ring all over again, but this time he hears the sound of a high-pitched cry of fear behind him and recognizes the voice.

Chris.

“Oh, shit,” The girl says, and it’s her voice that kills the sharp laughter of the boys, who look even as Kauri turns to see for himself. 

Chris, lying on his back on the ground, gasps for air that he can’t pull into his lungs, his hands up to his throat as if clawing at-

At his collar-

Kauri isn’t anything big - he’s not Jake, the hero who can hold off the terror of the light with the sheer size of his body, who will come home with a black eye and a broken rib and carry Chris up the stairs anyway. He’s not Nat with her hugs and blankets and ready dark spaces. He’s not Antoni, he’s not Leila he’s not Krista he’s not anything but Kauri, who can’t do anything, who breaks all his promises who can’t be trusted to be where he says he’ll be who isn’t a good person who isn’t trained for this-

Nobody is trained for this, Kauri hears Nat say inside his mind. She wasn’t talking about Chris, then, but-

Nobody has a map for how to walk out of hell, Kauri. But you’ve still got your compass. Go north.

He runs for Chris even as he hears other people start to notice, as Chris finally pulls in air and rolls onto his stomach, curling into a ball, hands over his head, as the first croaking breaths become louder and louder moans, rocking back and forth on the ground.

On more of the fireworks goes off and Chris screams, clapping his hands over his ears.

“Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit-” One of the teenagers says from behind Kauri, but he doesn’t even bother to tell them to go fuck themselves, he just drops to his knees next to Chris and puts a hand to his back. “Oh shit somebody’s gonna call the cops, what’s the fuck is wrong with-”

“I don’t know!”

“‘m sorry, I’m, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry sorry sorry sorry, I’m, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t, I moved, I, I, I I I-I, I moved, I moved, moved, shouldn’t move, no, no no no, no, no, no...” Chris’s voice is barely his own, it’s higher and lower at once, alternating between crying and the low moans, and he shudders at Kauri’s hand but doesn’t pull away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry, I’m, I’m I’m-I’m, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay, Chris,” Kauri whispers, but Chris doesn’t seem to hear him or react. The back of his shirt is layered with dirt over the black fabric, and it comes off on Kauri’s hand as he rubs frantic circles there, not knowing what to do, how to pull him out of himself. “You’re all right, nothing to be sorry for, come on, let’s, let’s get up-”

“Hey, is he, uh, he gonna be okay?” One of the teenagers has nervously edged up next to him, a boy with scraped up knees and long stringy hair. “We didn’t-... we were just screwin’ around, we didn’t think-”

“No, you sure fucking didn’t think, did you?” Kauri snaps, and the boy flinches back from the violent anger in his voice. Kauri doesn’t do angry, he’s scared of angry, but it bubbles up inside of him and he can’t stop it. “Did you think for a fucking second that you’re not the only assholes in the world? Huh?”

“Woah, um, we’re-... we’re sorry, dude, but-”

Chris groans and bangs his head into the ground, smacking his hands palms-down into the earth beneath him, wailing and Kauri has never heard him sound like this before. The words he was stammering before have somehow devolved entirely into the sounds, and Kauri’s heart pounds as he watches Chris pull so far into himself in fear that he has no idea how to get him out.

“Is he-... is he okay, or-”

“Does he fucking look okay?!” Kauri’s voice is so loud he’s suddenly scared of himself, and fights the urge to soothe, calm, appease, apologize, moving to get ahold of Chris’s hands as he pulls at his hair, holding them tightly, feeling the way Chris’s hands shake under his grip, trembling long fingers.

“Sorry,” The kid mumbles, and backs away to his friends, but one of the girls hasn’t run but come closer, and Kauri looks up to see there are people staring at them, men and women watching them, and Kauri-

He should run.

He should leave Chris here and run, this is a risk, people might call the cops, the cops might unclip his bracelet, he might get turned in. He should leave Chris here and call Jake to come get him and hide, and get away, and keep himself safe, and-

He tightens his grip on Chris’s hands and fights his own rising panic as hard as he can.

“Can I-... can I do anything to help?” The girl asks, leaning over with his hands on her knees, watching them. “To help him?”

“I don’t-... I don’t know,” Kauri answers, helplessly. “He’s never done this with me before. I don’t know what to do.” 

Chris rocks back and forth, not pulling away from Kauri’s grip, and looks up. His forehead is smeared with dirt from banging his head on the ground and his eyes are full of tears and fear and guilt. “No,” He moans, closing them again, tears cutting tracks through the dust and dirt on his cheeks. “No, no, no... no, no... no, no, no...”

“I’ll... I’ll get-... I’ll get a damp cloth or something,” The girl says, hesitantly. Her friends are loading back into the car in a hurry, and they call out to her but she ignores them, her own jaw set, running for some public bathrooms a hundred feet away and pulling her hoodie off as she goes.

The car full of kids pulls out, all but spinning their tires in their hurry to escape the consequences. But two others have stayed, one boy and one girl, and they move to Kauri’s side, too.

A man and woman who were walking their dog come over as well, and Kauri feels them pressing in on all sides, closing off his avenues of escape. He could still run. He could still go. He can still leave-

But he can’t leave Chris.

“The sound of the fireworks did that?” The man with the dog on a leash asks, and Kauri nods, not trusting himself to speak, letting go of Chris so he can take his face in his hands, and Chris looks at him but doesn’t see him. 

He’s not Jake. He’s not Nat. He can’t do this. He doesn’t know how to help anyone else, he can barely take care of himself, he doesn’t know anything and he’s the stupidest fucking person Chris could ever need help from-

You have to stop letting his voice sound like yours, Kauri.

“Chr-... Chris,” Kauri manages, his voice trembling. Anyone could call the cops of them, anyone could suspect. His body screams at him to run, to get away, to leave Chris, to go to find somewhere new to find somewhere safe to hide. It takes everything he has to stay right where he is, rubbing Chris’s cheekbones with his thumbs. “Chris, can you hear me?”

Chris, eyes still closed, leans into the touch of his hands, and it’s not an answer, but Kauri has to hope he’s trying. 

“Okay. We-... we need to get out of here, Chris, okay? I need-... I need to get out of here.”

No, this isn’t what will make Chris feel better. He can’t do this.

He has to do this.

“You’re okay. Um, um, can you-... can you open your eyes and look at me?”

There’s a long pause, and Chris’s coppery eyelashes rise, wide green eyes stare past Kauri with terror and only slowly seem to focus on him. “I’m, I’m so sorry,” He whispers, lips pulling back from his teeth, face reddened and dirty. “’m so, so, so so so so, so, so-... so, so sorry, so, so sorry-”

“Sssshhhhh, it’s okay. You’re all right. It was just some fireworks, it’s okay.” The girl reappears with the sleeve of her hoodie soaked with water from the water fountains, and Kauri takes it when she holds it out with a faint smile and uses the sleeve to wipe the dirt from Chris’s face, to cool the flush of his skin. “I know you’re scared. I’m going to call someone to come get us, all right?”

“No, no, no, no-no, no, no one’s, no one’s c-coming,” Chris whispers, whimpers really, and he moves forward to collapse against Kauri, rocking into him, burying his head into Kauri’s shoulder, the crook of his neck. “I, I, I waited all, all, all-all night, no one’s coming, no one, no one’s c-coming, nobody, no one, and they g-got-... so c-cold-...”

Kauri hitches in a breath and slides his arms around Chris, letting the girl take her hoodie back, aware - too aware - of the growing crowd around them. Chris’s words devolve again, fall apart into moaning sobs, tears soaking the fabric of Kauri’s t-shirt, his fingers twisting and clutching into the cotton, pulling, rocking, in constant motion even now in the guilt twisted up in his fear. 

“They, they got s-so cold,” Chris whispers, and Kauri looks slowly up at the man with the dog, who is staring wide-eyed down at them. “So, so, so, she got so, she got s-so cold-”

“Holy fuck,” The woman next to the man says. Her face is ash under her skin, gray around the edges.

Anyone could call the cops of them right now. He doesn’t know that they haven’t yet. Sirens could start any moment, or maybe WRU will just come themselves with a big white van and needles and it will all be over, everything he fought to build of himself, because of Chris.

No. That’s not fair.

He chooses to care, that’s what he does, that’s who Kauri is. He cares, and he... has to be stronger than he is scared.

Kauri steadies his voice, holding Chris as tightly at he can, trembling against him. “I need you to call a number for me,” He says, carefully. 

The man nods, pulling a cell phone out of his pocket. “Yeah, uh, sure. What’s-... what number-”

“Call...” Kauri closes his eyes. “Call 555-4467, and tell the person who answers that... that Kauri needs her here now. And... that it’s not for me.”

Jake’s too far away, an hour even by car from one side of the city to the other, and he doesn’t even have his own car, yet, he’s still saving. Nat’s too far away, the safehouse is a half-hour at least. The only person he can think of on this side of town...

She won’t help, she’d never, she’d-

Nat’s voice, in his mind, a memory of her calmly reminding him, you have a compass, Kauri, and it’s gotten you this far. What does your intuition tell you?

His experiences tell him to run and don’t look back.

His fear tells him she’ll hang up the phone.

His intuition tells him she’ll come.

The man nods and dials, and Kauri closes his eyes and holds Chris tightly, listens to his words, lets him wail into his shoulder as the man and woman warn everyone else away, the remaining teenagers get Chris drinks of water from the water fountain that he takes with only the barest sense that he even sees them there at all. 

It takes twelve minutes from when Jenna gets the call to when her car pulls up at the park.

She walks out to them, over the grass, and Kauri has himself tensed and ready for the latest barrage of loathing, but all Jenna says is, “Can you get him to stand up on his own?”

“I-I don’t know,” Kauri says, and slides his hands under Chris’s arms. Chris clutches him more tightly, shaking his head, refusing to let go, and Kauri takes a breath and slowly shifts back onto his heels, half-standing, half-pulling Chris up with him. The man with the dog rushes forward to help, and so does one of the teenagers. “He heard those really loud fireworks and just... lost his shit, I just-”

“Yeah,” Jenna says, voice flat and pointedly uncaring. She gets Chris’s other side once he’s up, and Kauri thanks the people who stayed with them, tells the teenagers he hopes they get home safe.

The girl who first saw Chris only shrugs. “Not a thing. I’ve got a phone and a mom, we’ll get home, she’ll come get us.”

Chris hiccups and whimpers, and Kauri and Jenna move him to Jenna’s car. They get Chris to lay down in the backseat with his head on Kauri’s lap, Kauri’s hand running through his hair. Kauri closes his eyes, and says, softly, “Listen, Jenna, I wouldn’t-... wouldn’t have called if-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jenna says, pulling away from the parking spot without looking in the rearview mirror, without looking to see Kauri in her backseat. 

“I... I really wouldn’t have called you but nobody else is on this side of town, and-”

“I said don’t worry about it.” Jenna rolls her eyes. “Back to Nat’s place? That’s where this kid is staying, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Chris sniffles against him, and Kauri shushes him softly, carding fingers gently through his sweaty hair. Jenna drives, taking the long way, the winding curves around the city to throw off anyone who might try to follow them. Kauri’s phone vibrates and he wonders, suddenly, how many texts Jake has sent that Kauri never answered. 

“So I guess you can be s-something other than a bitch when you want to be,” Kauri says, voice shaking, as close as he can get to a thank-you with her.

Jenna snorts, and briefly meets his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Bitches don’t get taken back,” She says, firmly. “We stay free. I’d rather be a bitch to Romantics than a pet, get it?”

“Got it,” Kauri says, but this is still probably the nicest she’s ever been to him, and he calls it a victory. “Why are you-... why did you agree to come?”

“Because of what that guy said. He mentioned it was fireworks. That’s why I’m here.”

Kauri’s eyebrows furrow. “Yeah... fireworks set him off. The big ones that crack really loud.”

Jenna is silent for a while, and then says softly, “Gunshots.”

“What?”

“There’s gunshots in that kid’s head. If he doesn’t remember them when he comes back, they’re from before, from whatever got him to sign himself up.”

“How do you know?”

Jenna makes a turn and drives over the big bridge through the center of the city, sunlight shining on water on either side, the swooping cables of the bridge making curving shadows inside the car. 

“Because,” She says, heavily, “There’s gunshots in my head, too.”

---

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