#every day i skirt closer to the themes i want to address in my full on hektor character analysis essay

[battlinghurricanes]

Hektor is irreplaceable to Troy, he is their greatest warrior and last defense, he’s the hinge on which Troy’s survival hangs, and he hates this. He is invaluable when, in truth, he wants nothing more than to be replaceable. Hektor holds bitterness and resentment for how heavily his city relies on him. Yes, he will stop at nothing to defend them, yes, he is unyielding and relentless at the cost of his own health, but he doesn’t want it to be that way. Even as he overextends himself time and time again, Hektor is aware that it takes a heavy toll on him, after all, he feels the cost more sharply than anyone. He knows it’s unsustainable, but every time, he finds it more important to sustain Troy than to sustain himself. Even so, his earnest desires are elsewhere. Hektor would rather stay in bed with Andromache when he wakes up exhausted, he’d rather take some time to let his wounds heal and not fight through blistering pain, he’d rather stay in the stay inside the city and look after Scamandrius, guiding him as he grows, than anything else.

When Hektor returns to Troy to ask Hecuba to make an offering to Athena, he refuses to remain- three times. Clearly, Hektor will not let himself rest because he leaves Troy, but clearly, he still longs to rest because he pauses. He takes a moment with Andromache and Scamandrius because he wants to, so desperately, and when he sees his baby, Hektor beams. He stops to comfort his beloved Andromache in her grief, and he takes his helmet off to bounce Scamandrius in his arms. For a moment he sets aside those things he needs to fight so he can be with them. What he believes he must do is not the same as what he wants to do. Hektor leaves, but Hektor lingers.

But he leaves because he is needed and deep in his heart he begrudges that. His own insistent drive to push himself to his limits would be difficult enough to temper on its own, but Troy’s desperate dependence on him on top of that is damning. How could they rely on him so heavily and yet have no one that might take his place if he can’t go on? And he’s never allowed to forget. Repeatedly they call him the lone defense of Troy, so much that he feels the weight of it, so much that they call his infant son ‘Astyanax’- Lord of the City- because of it and how dare they, how dare they, how dare they?

How dare they do that to him when he’s still so young? How dare they do that to Hektor, who already can’t help but relentlessly expend himself at every turn for them, and then they reward him by hitching their anxious hopes and expectations on his precious little son...?

And it makes such an elegant contrast with Achilles. Achilles, the Achaeans’ greatest warrior, irreplaceable on the battlefield, who adores and thrives on that fact. Achilles who, by his nature, is so proud and entitled that he’ll stop fighting and let them die to remind the Achaeans just how desperately they need him. As opposed to Hektor, who loathes being irreplaceable, but by his nature, is so stubborn and dogged that he will never stop fighting, at the cost of everything.

[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 11

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Disclaimer: I have no current affiliation with any other Via Imperii themed stories. Any claims that I have pre-read anything are false.

Word Count: 2,909

A/N: First of all, I have a couple of new readers (hi, thank you, I love you) if this is your first Sapere Aude, stop here, go back, and start from the beginning. This series has a lot of bombs and surprises, so none of this is going to make sense, and it’s going to make it less exciting if you aren’t reading from the beginning. 

Sorry, another long wait for a chapter. I got stuck, and distracted, and like a million other things. The Choices Insider email last week kind of lit a fire under me. When I started writing this (in December) the plan was to have it finished before the last book came out, so I have like a month to get through this. I’m going full out on getting this completed now, I will be working on nothing but this until it is done, and am hoping to finish it in time for the next book to come out so that PB has plenty of time to steal my ideas. 

This chapter took a while for me to work through, but @jessiembruno was amazing and helped me every step of the way, and got like a million rambling text messages from me once the idea dam finally broke. And then pre-reading and leaving me some amazing love notes, and super helpful suggestions. She also kept encouraging me, and pushing me to work on it when my mind would wander into new ideas, or thoughts on some other random WIP that I started throwing together. I love you, and I am so grateful for this friendship that goes way beyond any of this. By the way, you are an AMAZING writer, and I will continue to shout it from the mountain tops as long as I live. 

As always with this series, I need to thank @txemrn for pre-reading. I was having SUCH a miserable day and feeling so shitty about myself (for non-fandom reasons), and your reactions to this chapter made me laugh out loud for the first time in what felt like forever. I appreciate you so much my dear friend. 

And of course, thank you @twinkleallnight for my beautiful series moodboard. 

Tags: Listed below, you know the drill. 

Liam exited the bedroom and walked toward the sitting area. He paused at the end of the hallway to observe his wife and his daughter sitting on the couch. Riley had her blouse in hand, sewing on the button Olivia sent her for her undercover mission. She was showing Eleanor how to sew, talking her through every stitch. The princess was watching and listening intently, taking in every word her mother said. 

He leaned his right shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he admired his family. He didn’t understand how it was possible to fall even more in love every time he looked at them. All he wanted in this world was their happiness and safety, and now here he was, sending his wife straight to the enemy. 

“Hi Daddy!” The angelic voice of his daughter pulled him from his thoughts. 

“Hi Princess. Are you being a good helper for mommy?” He lifted Eleanor off the couch and sat in her seat, placing her on his lap. 

“Best helper a girl could ask for.” Riley held her hand out, palm up, and Eleanor gave her a high five. 

Liam enjoyed the company of his family for a few more moments, before placing a kiss on his daughter’s cheek. “Alright Eleanor, why don’t you go play in your room for a little while? Mommy and daddy have to talk about grown up things.”

“Yes, daddy. Will you come play after?” 

“Of course, I believe I am owed a tea party.” He gave her a hug before setting her down and watching her run to her room. When she was gone, he turned his attention back to Riley. “How are you feeling, love?”

Riley cut the lingering thread from the button and placed her blouse on the table in front of them before responding. “I mean, obviously I’m nervous, but I’m optimistic that I’ll come back with something we can use. How are you feeling?”

He sighed and pulled her close to him, kissing the top of her head as it landed on his chest. “Riley, I love how much you worry about me, but let me worry about you right now. Let me be your support system. Tell me truly, how are you feeling?”

“I’m...I’m terrified.” She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, tears beginning to pool in her own. “I’m trying so hard to be strong, to put on a brave face, but this is fucking terrifying. We don’t know how deep it goes, we know some of the people that are involved, but how do we know that that’s everyone?”

“You’re right, there are a lot of unknowns, and that’s scary.” He cupped her face in his hands, wiping a falling tear with his thumb. “But I truly believe that we are going to end this. That you are going to end this. Don’t forget, you are the Champion of The Realm.”

“Yeah, but I’m sleeping with the guy who makes those decisions, he may have been a little biased.” She shrugged, half joking. 

Liam removed his hands, his expression becoming more serious. “Riley, that’s not funny. You have earned every single thing you have received since you arrived in this country, our country. I don’t ever want you to believe that my feelings for you overrule my judgement when it comes to your abilities. You are the strongest person I have ever met. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

“IF anyone can do this. What if nobody can?”

“Then we will face the fallout together. Like we always do, like we always will. We are the King and Queen of Cordonia, Liam and Riley Rys. We are a force to be reckoned with.” He raised an eyebrow as he parroted back her reassuring words from a few nights before. 

She smirked at him. “Hey, no fair, you can’t use my own words to prove your point like that.” 

“Yes I can, old negotiation tactic.” He winked at her and stood from the couch reaching for her hand. “Come on, we still have the whole day ahead of us. Let’s go have a tea party with our daughter, then I’m taking my girls out for dinner.”

****

Two days later, Riley was sitting in the back of an SUV heading toward the Fierro Estate. She was doing her best to quell her nerves, but she couldn’t help her hands from fidgeting in her lap. 

“You seem on edge, ma’am. Is everything ok?” The sound of Mara’s voice cut through the silence, startling Riley. 

“Oh...yeah, I’m fine Mara. I’m just not really sure what to expect from this meeting. Last time I went to one of these events, I found out my mother in law wasn’t actually dead. I don’t know if I could handle another surprise like that.”

Mara chuckled at her concern. “Don’t worry your majesty, this is a simple strategy meeting followed by a dinner. You have met all of the members, so there will be no surprise guests this time around.”

Riley nodded and turned her head, watching the scenery pass by as they continued to their destination. Her mind was racing thinking about what this meeting would have in store. She practiced taking pictures with the pen, and activating the recorder she had sewn into her shirt. As they got closer to the estate, she felt her heart rate speed up, and the knot in her stomach tighten.

When they arrived, Riley was ushered into the grand room, which had been set up with a large table. The other members were standing around in small groups chatting until it was time for the meeting to begin. Riley fidgeted with the pen, twirling it in her fingers before lifting it to her face and tapping it against her chin and clicking it several times. She hoped it came off as a nervous habit, providing cover for the fact that she was actually taking pictures around the room. 

She gasped and nearly jumped out of her skin at the feeling of a hand gently being placed on her shoulder. She whipped around to see Eleanor smiling softly at her. “Riley dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh, Eleanor. Hello.” Riley held her hand to her chest, trying to get her heart rate back to normal. “It’s ok, I’m just a little nervous. Not really sure what to expect from this meeting.”

“Don’t worry, I promise it’s just regular business, nothing earth shattering. Come on, it’s time to get this started, and you’re sitting next to me.” Eleanor wrapped her arm around Riley and led her to the table. The other guests took this as their cue to follow, as the meeting was about to get underway. As Riley sat, she adjusted her skirt and blouse, using the opportunity to activate the microphone embedded in her button. 

As the chapter president, Eleanor kicked off the meeting by greeting their newest member, Queen Riley, and explaining that she was there to help push their initiatives though with the King. Riley clenched her fist ever so slightly, a trick she used when she was trying to keep her expression neutral. They continued on, reviewing the minutes of the last meeting, it all seemed to be pretty mundane, things that wouldn't even necessarily cross hers or Liam’s desk. 

Then they opened up the floor to new business, and Neville stood to address the room. “I would like to revisit the Auvernal alliance.”

Riley was able to maintain her stoic expression, but her body tensed at the mention of Auvernal. She and Liam had made it perfectly clear that there would be no alliance. “I don’t believe there is anything to revisit there.” She chimed in. “King Liam and I determined that the alliance would not be beneficial for Cordonia.”

“Actually, I believe you determined the alliance would not be beneficial to you and your husband.” Neville rebutted, crossing his arms over his chest. “You didn’t want to marry off your daughter, you didn’t bother thinking of what the alliance could bring to our country.”

“Are you questioning the decisions of your monarchs? I urge you to remember your station, Lord Neville.” Riley raised an eyebrow and stood a bit taller. 

Neville scoffed at her threat. “And I urge you to remember that you may have slept your way to the top in Cordonia, but the Via Imperii is bigger than the monarchy, and in this society, I outrank you.”

“Well, if being the Queen doesn’t matter in this room, then there is nothing stopping me from coming over there and beating your a...”

“Ok ok ok, let’s all calm down here.” Eleanor grabbed Riley’s arm, stopping her from charging at Neville. “Let’s all sit down and have a rational conversation, weighing out the pros and cons of an alliance.” Riley and Neville both sat down and exchanged narrow glances. “Now Neville, since you have brought this proposal to the group, you will go first. Please explain to us your thought process on revisiting the alliance.”

Neville nodded and smirked at Riley. “It is clear that combining the financial security of Cordonia with the military strength of Auvernal would make us an unstoppable force. Besides, we need the extra protection given our country’s recent history.” He glared at Riley once again.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Riley huffed. 

“Look at the instability we have faced in recent years. Our crown prince abdicated, his successor, our current king, broke off a perfectly suitable engagement to marry a foreign commoner who was marred in scandal.”

“He released a statement that cleared that whole thing up. The scandal is irrelevant.” She could feel her cheeks heating up.

“Do you really think people stopped talking about it? You can’t really believe that it won’t be a part of your legacy as our Queen.” 

Riley slouched down in her seat. She knew she should remain composed, but bringing up the Tariq scandal hit a nerve that she didn’t know still existed. One of her biggest concerns in continuing her relationship with Liam, and accepting his proposal, was that his success as King would be overshadowed by the scandal she had faced. She had thought that after all these years, it would have been forgotten, but Neville bringing it up just brought everything back up and made her realize it would be something that was attached to her name forever. 

“Besides the personal problems our royal family has faced, there have been multiple attempts to overthrow them just within our own country. Sons of Earth, Duke Godfrey, Barthelemy Beaumont, just to name a few. Other countries are seeing this, and it won’t be long before they try to come for us as well.” Neville continued. 

“While I don’t agree with his delivery, Lord Neville does make some valid points.” Emmeline interjected, the rest of the room began murmuring in agreement. Riley couldn’t hide her shocked expression as she felt tears start to build up in her eyes. She blinked them away, she was not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing their queen cry. 

Eleanor took back control of the room before turning to Riley. “Riley, would you like to counter? You and Liam worked directly with Auvernal during the marriage alliance talks, you clearly have some insight that we may not be privy to.”

Riley took a deep breath to get her emotions under control before standing to address the room. “Aside from the fact that Bradshaw and Isabella are deplorable people with hell spawn children, the main reason that we decided an alliance was not in the best interest of Cordonia, was because it was clear that their interest was not an alliance, but a hostile takeover of our country.”

“Perhaps we would prosper under their rule. I haven’t heard of any coup attempts in Auvernal, it seems to me like they’re doing something right.” Neville spoke up. 

“So that’s it then? You all think Bradshaw and Isabella would do a better job as your king and queen, so I’m just supposed to convince Liam to relinquish the throne?” Riley threw her hands up in frustration and stepped away from the table. 

“Your majesty, we’re not making the final decision right here, right now, we just want to remain open to the idea and explore some options.” Emmeline tried to talk Riley down. “Perhaps you and King Liam could take a meeting with them, a friendly lunch maybe, just to open the lines of communication.”

“This is ridiculous. I can’t believe you all expect me to agree with this!” Riley was now pacing the room, overcome with a nervous energy.

Eleanor stood and lifted a hand to quiet the room. “Alright, that’s enough. I think we’ve gotten as far as we’re going to get with this conversation tonight. Dinner is being set out in the dining hall. I suggest we adjourn for the day. Let’s all compose ourselves and think about all sides of this conversation. We will pick up the conversation at the next meeting.”

As the members started filing out of the room, Eleanor approached Riley and gently placed her hand on her arm to keep her still. “Are you alright Riley?” 

Riley shrugged Eleanor’s hand off of her, anger clear on her face. “Of course I’m not alright. I basically just had a room full of my subjects telling me that my husband and I are doing a shitty job, and they think those monsters are better suited to look out for their best interests. Of course I’m not fucking alright!” Riley moves in closer, lowering her voice but not losing any of the anger in her tone. “I thought you were here doing this to protect Liam. Do you really think that this is protecting him? Handing his kingdom over to Auvernal?!”

“Riley, I always have Liam’s best interests at heart, I promise you that. Why don’t you head home, take a couple of days to relax and take everything in. I will set up a meeting for you and I later this week to talk about everything and work out a game plan.”

“Fine, I can’t stay here anymore anyway. And I definitely don’t have an appetite for dinner.” Riley walked out of the room, looking for Mara so that they could get back to the palace. She stepped into the dining area and saw Mara standing in the far corner talking to Neville. She clenched her jaw and took a deep breath before approaching the pair. “Mara, we will not be staying for dinner. We are returning to the palace immediately. I want to be home to put my daughter to bed.” She wasn’t going to give Neville the satisfaction of knowing she was leaving because of what he started. 

“Of course, your majesty.” Mara nodded and exited with Riley. 

The ride home was silent. In all the years that Mara had worked for Riley, she had never seen her this upset. She wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it, or what would be considered overstepping her duties, so she decided to stay quiet and let Riley speak, if she wanted to. She didn’t. 

They arrived at the palace and walked together to the royal quarters. As Riley placed her hand on the doorknob to enter, Mara cleared her throat to get her attention. “Your majesty, I know this was a difficult evening for you, but I do feel I need to remind you that discretion is key in the Via Imperii. His majesty cannot know what happened tonight. You will need to lock those feelings away for the time being.”

Riley pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. She knew she was going to fall into Liam's arms and cry the second she saw him, and then she would tell him everything, but she couldn’t let Mara know that. “Liam and I will be staying in for the rest of the night. You are dismissed for the evening.” Riley walked into her quarters and shut the door before Mara had a chance to respond. 

As soon as she closed the door, she leaned back against it and dropped her head into her hands. Liam came walking into the room, the smile that appeared on his face when he heard the front door open quickly faded as he took in the sight of his wife sobbing at the front door. “Riley?” She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face as she tried to catch her breath. He rushed over to her and pulled her close, she buried her head in his chest as he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head trying unsuccessfully to soothe her. “Shhhh, it’s alright love, I’m right here, I’ve got you. Tell me what happened.”

Riley could barely speak, but she slowly tried to explain everything that had happened that night. Liam walked her to the couch as she spoke, she needed to sit, anything to help her relax and calm down. He stared at her in disbelief as he listened to his wife tearfully recap her evening. 

On the other side of the door, Mara pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket, selecting one of the contacts and bringing the phone to her ear. “My lord, you were right. We will need to put your plan in motion.”

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @bbrandy2002 @chemist-ana​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @choiceskatie​ @cordonia-gothqueen​ @cordoniaqueensworld​ @emkay512​ @gabesmommie1130​ @gkittylove99​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @jessiembruno​ @kat-tia801​ @khoicesbyk​ @kingliam2019​ @lucy-268​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @mile9213​ @mom2000aggie​ @pixie88​ @queenrileyrose​ @secretaryunpaid​ @sweatyrysconnoisseur​ @tessa-liam​ @theroyalheirshadowhunter​ @twinkleallnight​ @txemrn​

Sapere Aude:

@burnsoslow @busywoman @gardeningourmet @ofpixelsandscribbles

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612

Liam:

@amandablink @yourmajesty09

[quixotic-writer]

Signs

request: @birdgirl1772

Summary: New York was the place she hopes new horizons would be seen with a brand new job on the set of Impractical jokers with her long time boyfriend. Things didn’t change as she hoped and signs led people’s minds down a road they didn’t know was there. Q ventured in but is determined to help her on a path of her own.

Warning: Themes and talk of ab*se

————————————————

'Everything's fine. It's all okay.'

Like a mantra I keep telling myself over and over again as I frantically try and get the apartment put into order. He'll be up at any moment and I need breakfast hot on the table for him, if not he'll just do it again.

Almost as if on cue, I hear his footsteps and I feel a chill down my spine. I straighten myself up and put on a brave happy face.

"Good morning, breakfast is hot and ready." He doesn't say anything to me, just sits down at the table and quietly eats his breakfast as I clean up the kitchen. "I have a long day at work today on set, I might not be home in time to make dinner. How about some takeout at that italian place around the block?" He huffs.

"I don't ask for much, do I? All I want from you is a hot meal on the table. You're not the only one that works, you know." He spoke in a calm pointed tone. It was always scarier like this because it was the brewing and bubbling before worse happened.

"I'm sorry they just need me on set, I can't help that today is going to be a longer shoot."

"You can open your fat mouth about not being home to do basic shit, why can't you open your mouth to get a decent schedule?" I sit at the table nibbling at my plate of food, poking around at whatever was on it with my head hung low in shame. "My family wonders why I haven't proposed to you yet, how am I supposed to marry someone who doesn't even have any traits of a good wife?" He picked up his table and loudly threw his dishes in the sink making me jump.

I sit there without any tears left to cry. I just stare at the oak table and wonder why I can't do anything right. He comes back into the room with his coat in hand, lays a hand on my shoulder and plants a kiss on top of my head.

"I'll be home at 7 for dinner. Love you honey." He steps out the door and I hear him leave. I was left to clean everything up and clean myself up as well to head out for work.

When I went into the bathroom to change, I got a good look at my bare body. I had bruises in random splotches, some more faded than others. I felt disgusting. But he loved me. He's just pointing out things that I need to improve on... Right? That's all it is. He loves me. I convince myself mentally once more, but that only lasts mere seconds until i'm back to daydreams of escapism. I feel like a rat in a cage, he gives me everything, but he doesn't give me love. I'm just a sick experiment. A mere pet to him.

I pull my shirt over my head and cover the physical incarnations of my terrible secret and I head out the door to our filming location for the day: the bridal store.

I get to work and get things rolling before the guys get in: starting their coffee, helping set up their stations, double checking all the cameras are in place, and making sure each person is accounted for. I'm running all over set that I didn't notice or hear Q behind me. As I turn around with a coffee cup in hand, he's just standing there looking at me. I jump out of my skin and end up dropping the cup. A huge puddle of coffee is all over the floor and I feel my heart sink.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I immediately go down to grab the coffee cup. Q walks over and I screw my eyes closed fearing that I might be adding another bruise to my skin. But as I wait for a second, nothing happens. I open my eyes and see he has a couple of napkins and is helping to sop up the coffee.

"Didn't mean to scare you like that sweetheart! Are you okay?" He looks in my eyes with worry.

"I-I... I'm so sorry..." I couldn't get anything else out but that.

"You don't have to be sorry, accidents happen. I'm just happy none of it got on you, that would have hurt like a bitch!" We finish cleaning everything up and things seem to be back on track for everyone else. My heart felt like it was gonna fall out of my chest with how hard it was pounding so I found a way to escape off to the bathroom in a fired rush. As I was walking, I had my head down and clumsily bumped into someone else.

"Woah there speedy! Careful there!" I twist my head and see Joe who helps hold me steady so I don't fall, "You're an important part of the team and we can't have you getting hurt on our watch." He says with a smile. His words sound almost distant as my mind is only on finding a means of hiding. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost. Let me go get you water." He disappears and I go to hide away in the bathroom.

I slam the door and lock it. My palms are drenched in sweat and I'm shaking. I didn't make one mistake. I made two.

"You IDIOT!" I whisper yell to myself as I sit on the toilet. Eventually I had calmed myself down, took a breath, and wiped the sweat off my hands. The moment I opened the bathroom door there was Joe ready to knock, staring at me wide eyed. "Jesus christ Joe! Nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to. I was looking everywhere for ya! Got you that water, stay hydrated." He hands me an ice cold water bottle and gives a soft smile before disappearing into the maze of equipment and team members. I was almost confused. I could have gotten water myself. I shrug at the kind gesture and try to get myself back on schedule after having that huge breakdown.

Everything from there was on track, no more hiccups in the road. I watched alongside the tech team as each of the jokers worked their magic in the dress viewing room, seeing various bride-to-be's in dazzling white and ivory dresses. Lace, chiffon, satin, there was everything and so much more. The girls on the team and I would gawk at each and every one that came through on screen, gushing about how gorgeous they are and how beautiful each girl was too. It came to a close for me as a voice came over the speakers for me to fix something up closer to the guy's monitors, a minor wiring issue that needed touching up on. As always I was quick on the scene to make sure that the problem was rectified and it wouldn't stall anything. The guys were still doing their thing as Murr was up on the floor.

I worked quietly and quickly, but not quickly enough I guess. The boys started getting rowdy, yelling, shouting, and hollering. Something in me shut down and suddenly everything didn't feel real. I looked at the work I had in front of me and nothing was quite clicking in my head. I froze. I stood behind their monitor in a daze. I don't know how much time passed before someone helped me fix the last bits up and get me out of there. I went into this mental auto-pilot mode. I heard everyone's voices, but it sounded foreign and almost distant.

"Hey." That came to me clear, I turned and Q was there. He looked worried.

"Hey." Play it off. Play it cool. Don't burden anyone with your problems.

"Listen, I notice things from time to time and I think now more than ever I need to address this." He kept his distance from me, his shoulders were slumped.

"What do you mean?" Play dumb. Don't let him know.

"Are things okay at home? Like, you and your boyfriend?" Cry for help? No don't do that, he'll think you're weak. But I need help. I can't take it anymore. But you've put up with it for so long, you can change him, he loves you. My mind was racing and I felt like a chameleon caught in the middle of its color change.

"W-why?" You're making it so obvious, why are you like this? His face shifts and I think that was an answer in itself that he feared.

"You don't have to tell me anything, it's not my business. Just know that I'm here for you and that I care about you. You're a part of the team and one of the crew members I can actually classify as a friend, your safety means everything to me and the guys." He goes in to hug me, I flinch. His arms don't wrap around me but his arms remain open. I look at him, and slowly melt into the hug. Despite his large stature, his embrace was soft and comforting. I've been hugged countless times, especially by my boyfriend, but never had any of them ever felt anything like this.

'Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.' Was what was screaming in my head as he held me in his arms. But, I just couldn't. We both separated and he was back to take his turn. I just sigh and feel this aching in my stomach. Was it guilt? Shame? Fear? Anxiety for sure.

When things had wrapped up, I roamed about the bridal attire looking at all the dresses feeling as the various textures graced my fingertips and their shape creating a model in my imagination.

"Try some on! Some of the other girls on set did, I think you deserve a chance to as well." Q sneaks past me and I didn't jump out of my skin for once. My eyes lit up like fireworks and I grabbed dress after dress.

"Only if you can give me some honest feedback big guy!" I say as I skip off to the changing room. I changed in and strolled out to the mirror. I spun and got a full look of myself and I felt beautiful for the first time in a long time.

"Look at you glow! Look at that smile!" Q had said enthusiastically. His eyes had wandered, but I noticed they stopped and his expression had changed.

"Something wrong? Did I get something on the dress?!" I look about the dress to find where the stain or imperfection might be.

"No, you just have a bruise on ya. How'd that happen?" I turn and bend my neck to see where in the mirror. There it was on my back left shoulder. I felt ice shoot up my spine.

"I'm just a little clumsy and ditsy! Just being stupid little old me again!" I pick up the skirt and go back to the changing room. This time, I went into something that covered me a little more and hid everything that I wasn't ready to reveal. When I came out, I knew my smile was less enthusiastic and I had lost my spark. I looked at myself, and it was just like I had always dreamed I would look like as a kid if I ever got married. That's when my mood really changed and I just started to whimper and cry. Q was quick to be at my side as I fell to my knees and wept.

"Hey, hey, hey it's okay." He held my hand in his and spoke in a hushed tone as he knelt by me.

"No. It's not. It hasn't been for a while." My mascara was running when I looked up at myself in the mirror. I looked around to see if anyone was there. No one was.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's the dress."

"What about it? I think you look good in it if that means anything." I chuckle. Sweet even when I look like a disgusting disaster.

"It's not that. It's just, i've always dreamed of this. Any kid does, especially me. Dressed up in a gorgeous dress of their dreams for their wedding. Smiling when you find the one and the dress. I've dreamt about it ever since I heard my boyfriend say 'I love you' to me. I want to get married but I feel that dream slipping away. He says he loves me, but I'm nothing but a punching bag, a burden, inconsiderate, imperfect, unlovable. Nothing I do is right or enough. I loved him, but I just can't find anything good in him anymore and I can't live like this anymore." The tears fall fast and heavy down my face and onto the carpet of the room. Q doesn't do anything but listen, "I want to leave, but I have nowhere to go. No one that cares. I moved here for work and away from each and every one of my support systems that I had. He said it'd be a new start but it feels like a trap now. I'm scared and I'm alone. I have no one that loves me."

"I don't know what to say to make this any better but I can tell you this for certain: you are not alone in this. He doesn't deserve you. He's stooped to the lowest of the low and is the scum of the earth. A royal piece of shit. I want to help you and I want to get you out of there." My head whips to him and our eyes connect and the tears temporarily stop.

"What do you mean?"

"You have your own bank account right? You know where all your important stuff is right? Do you have a suitcase to pack essentials?"

"Yes. But Q, and I mean this in the nicest way, what the fuck?" It felt like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Hope.

"You say you have no support system, well i'm it now. So are the rest of the guys whether they like it or not really. I'm hatching a plan. Are you in or out?" Everything felt sudden and so fast, my mind was racing and so was my heart. This was my chance, my opportunity, my sign that I've been begging for.

"I'm in."

"Perfect."

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

I stood in front of the mirror brushing my teeth and I watched him climb into bed in the reflection. I look back to myself.

'Am I ready for this? Is this really what I want?' Second thoughts bloomed in my mind as my eyes kept wandering off to him. This is gonna break him and I almost felt kind of bad for it. I spit the minty foam and rinse my mouth. No more doubts for myself. This is it. I climb into bed and just lay there on my back for a while as I felt the bed shift on occasion as he settled in for the night.

After what felt like an eternity but was only half an hour, I knew he was dead asleep. I snuck out of my bed and gathered all of my important belongings. Special papers like my social security card, passport, etcetera. Quietly pulled out my suitcase and stuffed it to the gills with all my clothes and other little trinkets like jewelry and knick knacks. Once I was all quietly packed, I left it by the front door and sent a quick text to Q that our plan was in motion.

I stepped back into the bedroom to see him unshifted and unbothered. I wish he had been like this all the time. I at least wanted to have the decency to officially split us. I scribbled out a messy letter that I left on the kitchen counter as I heard a car come to a stop on the quiet streets. A peek outside the curtain revealed a red jeep waiting outside. My heart fluttered. I looked around at my surroundings one last time, taking in the last drops of memories both good and bad. With a deep breath I snuck out the front door. Q helped throw my suitcase into the trunk and gave me a hug and I began to cry.

"Honey?" I hear a strained tired voice that wasn't Q's. We both looked to see him standing in the doorway rubbing the sleep from his eyes and to see if what he was seeing was correct. My heart sunk. "Are you kidding me? Cheating on me? You've got to be fucking kidding me." He started to approach and Q shoved me into the passenger seat and guarded the door like a dog, standing tall. I could hear it all beyond the window.

"She's been nothing but loyal to you I can promise you that, maybe a little too loyal for scum like you."

"What do you know about us? Who the fuck are you anyway?" They both stood chest to chest and I was terrified of what was to come next. The fear of not knowing what will happen and being terrified at the idea of the worst thing happening left me trembling and silently crying.

"I know enough. Now step off."

"That's MY girlfriend. Fuck off tough guy." He pushes Q's chest and he stumbles back into the car but quickly regains balance. His fist reels back and I seal my eyes shut not wanting to see anything. When I opened them back up, he was on the floor holding his nose.

"If you know what's good for ya, you'll get your ass back inside and leave her the fuck alone." He begrudgingly gets up, stands there for a moment, looks to me with a glare, and backs away inside. Q adjusts himself and steps into the car.

"Are you okay?" Once again, I'm tearing up and grew to be a mess.

"You're so worried about me. I'm okay but are YOU okay?" I say with a smile.

"Well I just set that dick straight I think, and I'll be having you staying in my guest room. I think I'm doing pretty great." He says with a chuckle as he sets the vehicle in motion, "Now, let's get you to your new place of residency."

"At least until I can find a place for myself."

"Of course, but know: You're welcome to stay as long as you need. All I ask is for occasional help around the house."

"Of course. It would be incredibly rude if I just made a mess of the space you're so graciously sharing with me." We sat in the quiet of the car, adrenaline crash kicking into my system and my eyes grew heavy. "Hey. Thanks by the way."

"That's not an easy situation. It's hard to do alone. The fact that I could help you makes me happier than you know. You deserve to feel safe and loved and feel real love." I smile and he does too.

[ill-skillsgard]

A Truth and a Lie - Henry Deaver x Mistress

Warning: 18+ smut/mentions of cheating/mature themes/strong language/spousal conflict. **mentions of impregnation and fertility issues in this part**

Note: This is Angstville. But that’s nothing new for this series! I know it’s been a while since I posted anything, but I’d really appreciate comments and reblogs. It would truly help me get back into the mood to write if you let me know your thoughts and whatnot. No pressure! 

Read past Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

Sudden drumming on the desk startled you from your morning daydreams. Henry peered down at you with a secret smile, one reserved for the rare occasion he caught you slacking off, though Henry would always follow it up with a forgiving wink. Henry rarely caught you off guard at work, and when he did, he was lenient with his reprimands. Most of the time, you were an astute secretary and completed assistive tasks before Henry mentioned them. You were trustworthy, capable, and much better at keeping track of dates and meetings than his last assistant. In a professional sense, you were the perfect employee, which was why it pained him to ask you into his office that morning.

You sat down in front of his desk as he closed the door. Henry tried to smile while adjusting his tie and fiddling with the button of his suit jacket. By the time he sat down, Henry looked frazzled.

“I’m sorry to take you from your work,” Henry began.

“That’s all right, sir.”

You still insisted on the formal address, even behind closed doors. It never failed to twist his mouth upward. Still, he shuffled a few papers on his desk, sighed, then wiped invisible sleep from his eyes.

“What’s the matter, Henry?” You asked, realizing the meeting wasn’t an excuse to keep you close.

Henry let out another distressed sigh, touched your knee and then sat back in his chair. “I don’t want this, darling. Truly, I don’t.”

“Oh, God. Are you firing me?” You whispered.

“Baby... If you haven’t changed your mind about marrying me—and don’t worry, I’ll still propose to you in the traditional way—then we must separate work from home. And since you are my home, and every time I look at you, I feel my heart drop-kick in my chest, it means you won’t be able to work for me here. It’s only to spare us the headache and gossip. I can’t have my soon-to-be-fiance and mother of my children working for me.”

You pressed your lips and exhaled, as you’d suspected your days at the office would soon expire, especially after the news about Mary’s covert investigation. Henry had insisted he would take care of it, and you’d keep her job, but with the promise of marriage and children on the horizon, his guarantee lost substance.

He reached across the desk and motioned for your hand, intent on squeezing it until the urge to kiss the back of your palm overcame him. 

“Please don’t be mad at me, sweetheart. You’re the only person I want at my side.”

“I understand,” you said. 

“Really?” His eyes glistened.

You nodded, determined to soothe the regret on his face. “Of course. I want to start our family more than anything. More than I want this job... No offence. It’s a great job, my boss is ridiculously good-looking, and the pay is nice, but... I’d rather marry you and start thinking of names for our twins.”

“Twins?” Henry asked, cheeks burning and eyes glinting.

Again, you nodded. “Yes. It runs in my gene pool. We have a high chance of double-trouble.”

The man across the desk relaxed his shoulders and smiled wide enough to leave indentations around his mouth when he finally composed himself.

“Sweetheart, you make me the happiest man in the world. I love you so much; I can’t stand it sometimes. You’ve been the best employee and an even better partner. As much as it kills me to do this, it’s only for us. I’ll even let you choose your replacement.”

“Good. Then I can make sure you won’t hire some young honey to schedule your meetings and book your flights,” you quipped.

“I’d never—you know I wouldn’t.”

“I’m kidding, Henry.���

“So, you’re not pissed at me?” He asked.

“No, silly. I’m not pissed. I thought we’d be having this conversation much sooner, to be honest. But you held out until the last minute, didn’t you?”

Henry bit his lip, sudden darkness taking over his bright eyes. “I just wanna get you pregnant so badly.” 

You shifted closer, leaning over the desk and hugging your arms to your side to push out your breasts. “You mean like this morning when you woke me up at six AM to fuck me and fill me full of cum?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, running his hand over his face as his eyes fluttered. “Exactly like that.”

“Well, then I suppose since you’re canning my ass, you might as well take me out to lunch so you can tap it, too.”

“I can swing that,” said Henry under his breath.

You rose from the seat and winked. “I’ll see you at noon. Maria’s?”

“I was thinking more like Steel Heron.”

“Wow! Very fancy. I hope I can get us a reservation.”

“Make it under Deaver. That should do the trick.”

With a wiggle and a smirk, you quirked one shoulder while crossing to the office door. “My powerful Mr. Deaver.”

“I love you, baby. I wish I could kiss you.”

“You can kiss me all you want in the car later on.”

Henry chuckled. “You got it, gorgeous.”

~*~

When your food arrived after twenty minutes of indecision, you both wolfed down overpriced entrees, then rushed to the parking lot to duck into the backseat of Henry’s car. Once he closed the door, you wrestled his pants down to his knees, taking hold of his half-firm shaft to massage until he grew hard and breathless. 

“Get your panties off,” Henry panted. “Quick. Pull them to the side and ride me.”

You scrabbled to sit astride his lap, stretching your underwear over so Henry could prod your entrance with a few mild strokes. He bucked his hips up and met resistance, groaning already.

“Fuck, Henry. I’ll never get used to that cock. You’re so big.” 

“And I’ll never get used to this tiny little hole. Oh, my gosh, but you take it so well.”

You sank, moaning from every inch of flesh sliding inside. Clutching at each other, kissing with ferocious intensity, Henry gripped your thighs and guided you back and forth, the momentum rocking the car. The top of your head grazed the roof until Henry wrapped his hand around your nape and pulled you in for a crushing kiss.

“You okay, baby?” He asked, breath hot on your cheek.

“Yes,” you squeaked.

“God, I’m already close. I can’t fucking take it. You’re gonna make me bust.”

“Do it,” you said. “Cum inside me, sir.”

Henry let out a satisfied laugh. “Oh, I will, honey. You’ll be a mommy when the day is through. I’m taking you home later on and fucking you again and again just to be sure.”

“You’re gonna be a daddy soon,” you replied, running your hands through his soft brown hair.

He stuffed his face between your shoulder and jaw, licking at your pulse. “I hope so, baby. Fuck, I hope so.”

As promised, Henry lasted no longer than a few well-angled thrusts. The pulses and spurts filled you, sending shivers over your shoulders and up your neck. When he slackened from his fading orgasm, Henry placed you gently on your back and stared between your legs as your panties rolled back into place, a dark blot forming where his seed leaked out. He couldn’t help himself and reached over to rub your pussy over the thin cotton, feeling the wetness he’d left inside.

“Does it matter how long you keep it inside?” Henry asked after you both rolled down the windows for fresh air.

“I’m not sure. Maybe we can go to a bookstore to find some reading material? We can do some research together.”

“That’s a great idea, honey. But I have that meeting at 4:30, so I might be a little late getting out. If you want to leave, I’ll grab you afterward. You know how those guys gab.”

Henry helped you out of the car, offering his hand for support while you wobbled to the passenger side door. When you ducked in and put on your seatbelt, Henry leaned into the vehicle and kissed you long and hard.

You gave him a knowing smile. “I can’t wait… Daddy.”

Henry blushed all the way back to the office, happy to have you at his side wrestling with a smirk as cum smeared between your thighs underneath your grey pencil skirt. 

~*~

As predicted, Henry’s meeting ran late, and you didn’t wait to go home to shower before your outing. Though he’d smattered your legs with cum and it had dried in crusty blotches, you didn’t care. You’d shower and change into comfier clothes for your outing with Henry later.

You whistled on the way home, the repetitive song playing over the radio—something that would usually irritate you—catching you in just the right mood. The drive was long, but you didn’t mind. All you thought about was finding baby books with Henry, then going home to try your luck at becoming parents again. 

Daydreams of Henry’s future proposal tickled your insides and had you smiling as you turned street corners. Even the rotten news from Henry’s latest encounter with his soon-to-be ex-wife fell away, and you navigated the busy lanes without a care. A pleasant warmth filled your chest, reminding you of all the fond memories and good times with Henry to come.

Your love for him expanded day by day, with each minute at his side, and every breath you took. Why Mary tossed such an attentive man aside baffled you, but only enough to make you scoff to yourself and thank the higher powers for putting that same loving, selfless man in your path. Sure, your past wasn’t the most sterling love story, but it had room to grow into the relationship you’d always wanted.

Recalling Henry’s smile reflected on your face. His emotive looks and passionate eyes were always enchanting, even when he wasn’t in your presence. Sick with the intoxication of love, you sighed as you pulled into the visitor parking spot. Henry kept meaning to get you your own spot next to his, but extra work had taken away most of his free time.

You shouldered your purse, selected the fob from your ring of keys, and locked the car before sauntering toward the door leading to the parking lot stairwell. Up those stairs was the elevator, but you didn’t get that far before somebody cleared their throat from behind.

Whipping around, you noticed a woman standing near a Lexus. She wore a burgundy business suit with a knee-length pencil skirt that hung loosely about her thighs. Her hair twisted into a bun on top of her head, thin-framed glasses perched on her nose. The woman looked familiar to you, but in the dimly lit parking garage, it took you a few steps forward to realize who meant to grab your attention.

It was Mary.

“Uh, hi?” You said.

“Hello, Missy.”

You sneered at the address but soon dropped your sour expression. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to deliver you some bad news.”

“Henry isn’t here—”

“No, not Henry,” she interjected. “You.”

“Me? What do you want to speak to me for?”

Mary smirked, taking two steps away from her vehicle. You clutched your bag and drew your shoulders back. The woman posed no physical threat, but something about her was worrisome. Your only knowledge of her temperament stemmed from two encounters—both leaving an unflattering impression. Would she come after you? Did she have it in her to shed all professionalism and launch into a physical assault?

“There’s something I think you should know about Henry.”

You looked around the parking garage. Soon, cars would pull in, tired people walking by to reach the elevator. Mary had lived there at one point. Surely she wouldn’t try to hurt you when she knew about the surveillance cameras planted around the lot.

“I don’t understand. How did you know I’d be here?” You asked.

Mary chuckled. “Well, it’s the last Friday of the month, and Henry always has his board meeting at 4:30. He and all those stuck-up codgers never get out of the office until they’ve spent twenty minutes talking business and two hours discussing the prostitutes they took to this place and that, their golfing tournaments, their second and third wives. Trust me, sweetheart. I’ve been in your position before. I know Henry and his associates front-to-back. Which is why I’m warning you.”

A sinkhole opened in your gut, swallowing all the warmth and happiness you were feeling throughout the day. You scraped your thighs together, feeling flakes of semen come off from the motion. If only Mary knew her husband’s cum had been dripping from your slit since lunchtime. This secret fact made you smirk for a moment until you read the seriousness lining her forehead and framing her mouth.

“Well?” You encouraged with an air of impatience. “Out with it then.”

Not one to take orders, Mary clicked her tongue and shook her head. She longed to watch the disappointment on your face as she trampled upon your joy, so she prolonged the silence until you grew visibly perturbed.

“I assume Henry told you about what happened when he paid me a visit the other day?”

“Of course, he did. I’m helping him handle the case.”

Mary tilted her head with an audacious smile. “Yes. That comes as no surprise. He’d never clean up after himself. Henry always needed a woman to do it for him.”

You made a disgusted face, adjusting your purse strap and rolling your eyes. Mary carried on as a sleek black Audi pulled into the parking garage, missing you both by inches.

“He must have made you all kinds of promises when he got home, am I right?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because that’s what he does after he’s fucked up. Let me tell you something... After he jumped in the sack with you, he came home to me and promised to be a better husband. He told me he’d go to counselling, take me on a second honeymoon, buy me whatever I wanted. All because he felt guilty. I’m willing to bet he came home that day and made similar promises to you. Maybe even told you he plans to marry you after all is said and done.”

Your mouth trembled, and you were thankful for the dimness. You wanted to tell Mary off, but she had your curiosity hooked.

“How do you know that?” You whispered.

“I already told you. I know Henry better than anyone. Better than you ever will. We were married for over fifteen years, remember?”

There wasn’t enough air entering your lungs, so you opened your mouth and took in a deep breath.

“I wanted to test him. I had to see whether he really loved you or if he was just using you to fill the void. It turns out he has genuine feelings for you, but not enough to keep him from fucking me.”

“What?” You gasped.

“That’s right,” Mary said, smirking. “I told Henry if he took me then and there, right in the kitchen, I’d call off the renegotiation and let him have what he wanted—the clean break he needed to continue with his happy, albeit staged, little happy life. He took the bait immediately.”

“No, he did not!” You exclaimed.

Mary chuckled, taking another step toward you. “You idiot. He cheated on me. Do you honestly believe he wouldn’t do the same to you? That man was raised in one of the worst misogynistic environments I’ve ever witnessed. Look at the men he calls friends! Sure, they all have their trophy wives, but when they go away on business, it’s blowjobs in the back of strip clubs, hookers at 3 AM and sushi on naked women. Have you never listened in on one of their meetings?”

“I’d never. I trust Henry,” you said, voice quivering.

“You’re a dolt to trust him or anyone he associates with. Henry is a pervert. A useless, sterile sack of shit. Why do you think I turned away? I was sick of getting cheated on.”

“Sterile?” You repeated.

Mary cocked her head, then opened her mouth to gasp softly. “That’s right. Henry and I never conceived because he can’t have children.”

Your hands shook, and every breath you took shuddered in your chest. “That can’t be true. He would have told me.”

The woman six feet away from you shook her head with remorse. She allowed an excruciating silence to pass before sighing. Something changed about Mary’s face. One moment she looked smug and eager to rile you up, and the next, she looked calm, distant... Almost sad.

“There was a time when I truly loved Henry. When any time I thought of my future, I saw us together with several kids. And we tried, we really did. For months and months, we tried getting pregnant. Finally, we went to a fertility clinic, but Henry had his qualms. He insisted it was all chance; that if we kept at it, eventually we’d conceive. We got tested, but the results take time. Well, Henry went to Thailand with Frank and some other colleagues—and trust me, you do not want to hear the stories that came back with them—leaving me alone at home, fretting. But that didn’t matter. I was used to it.

“Anyway, while he was off living it up in paradise, I got the results back. The doctor said I was fine, but Henry... Well, I just couldn’t tell him. I knew it would crush his spirit. Something like that would destroy his will to live, and I couldn’t bring that down on him while he was hitting the peak of his career. He was raking in raises and promotions, and I was on my own path. So, I swallowed the devastating news and saved him the heartbreak because I loved him and wanted what was best. But as time went on, my life and our marriage lost meaning. I couldn’t look at Henry the same. I couldn’t sleep with him because I knew he’d try to get me pregnant, and there was only so much stress I could handle. Sex is meant for procreation, and we would never rise to the task.”

The air in the parking garage grew chilly. More and more vehicles filed in, filling the atmosphere with dizzying fumes. Overhead, the lights flickered as nausea worked into your gut. You began to sweat and shiver at the same time.

“No. I don’t believe you. Who would ever do something so cruel? You’re just saying this so I’ll leave. You don’t love him. What kind of wife would keep a secret like that?”

���A wife who only wanted to see her husband become the best person he could be, which, evidently, still isn’t so great when you take into account all the terrible things he’s done to us.”

You shook your head and threw off your center of gravity. The heels of your shoes wobbled, or perhaps it was your knees knocking, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was you needed to sit down before you lost balance and toppled over. Mary saw this struggle and crossed her arms under her bosom.

“Like it or not, Missy, Henry isn’t the man you think he is. He’ll make all kinds of promises, but he’ll disappoint you in the end. Trust me.”

[kitreadsbirdmen]

Birdmen Finale Thoughts

A Reflection on the End

Birdmen checked a lot of boxes for me. The most superficial being wings and flying, concepts that I would imagine from the window of a speeding car or subway train. I can’t say I was attracted to the freedom of the idea, that frankly scared me silly. But it was fascinating enough, and it preoccupied this small part of my imagination from time to time with the pull of the absolutely inexplicable. What if… What if something happened? What if I were different or strange? How would everyone react? What would I do? How would I change or what would I do to fight that change?

These thought experiments often led me to self-indulgent stories with fantasitcal premises that would only halt the speculation and sweep their characters towards their own plots and narratives. They would only glance over to the vastly more interesting human fallout of the [insert truly miraculous phenomenon] for the sake of episodic drama or a comedic take. These would deep down be very disappointing to me because they failed to give weight to the mind-spinning concept of the supernatural. By brushing past it, the story would dismiss my biggest questions, the ones I felt a morbid curiosity to see explained vicariously. That’s probably why I was so hooked to Birdmen at first. 

Birdmen was and is... rather mundane if you think about it. Grounded, set in a recognizable reality, gave nuance to very human quirks and details of life and society. Kinda dull-ish, slightly charming, and depressing, with all the same desire for something more that we feel when we watch the clock tick away. And even the murmurs of the supernatural had this incredulous air. Something amusing and perhaps hard to dismiss nevertheless. And as our cast is thrust into this new spin on reality, it’s given weight and time. Growing pains full of stumbling youth shenanigans and strife. The Introductory Arc is some masterful execution of humanity as the line of a new species skirts more and more into a diverging reality. It’s here that a very different kind of strength is capitalized on. The limitless potential found within limitation itself.

The core concept and primary conflict of birdmen comes from the subtle utilization of a grounded scientific and philosophical school of thought. This limits the entire narrative to concepts inspired not by the dramatic needs or visual aesthetic, but by the imagination of existing science itself. While a lot of things can boast this particular source, I think Birdmen is very conservative with where it could go. The most outlandish things are noted but not abused. Nothing is absurd no matter the demand. It’s the reason why I found the lore behind the growing science and discovery of the Seraph abilities to be immersive. It’s why I could create a million 1st ability ideas, headcanons, and theories (some of which would actually get confirmed) in one sitting. The source material existed within limits and therefore opened the door to boundless potential. 

To put it in a word, it’s realistic.

Realistic characters, events, ‘villains’, powers, relationships, conflicts… the list goes on. When we pick up a story we suspend our disbelief to welcome the basic empathy and logic to engage us through the world. But I felt a strange relationship with that process on so many levels for Birdmen. It’s why talking about it in-depth is such a hard to explain feeling. When fictional characters have all the nuance and depth as a real person. When wide-scale event scenarios start reflecting the common trends of the current mediascape. When manga-panels start echoing peer-reviewed articles… It becomes hard to see the need to suspend disbelief. At least not in the same way. It makes things seem so much more possible. Everything feels so much more personal.

The current pandemic has helped in this process of course. My life has been turned upside down and I often find myself asking ‘dude is this (still) happening???’. It makes a lot of stories and speculative fiction narratives seem a lot closer. But then the final arc of Birdmen introduces its own pandemic SEVERAL months before covid-19 is first spotted and we see a roll-out of cultural fallout that is eerily familiar. WHO press conferences following the resignation of Eden’s director. Forgetting your mask as you leave to greet your son’s arrival home. Teachers taking a sick day for themselves or perhaps out of caution (if only that worked state side lol). Misinformation and tension across social media. Unrest and riots in the street. (that image of Robin’s flock watching the riot from a distance got me big time. Mostly because I was thinking about the Capitol riots at the time). I think I just needed a chapter devoted to a successful and seamless vaccine distribution to set my resonating heart at ease.

...I’m not kidding there actually. We can’t just assume it went off without a hitch Tanabe. Can I get some wish-fulfillment here??

That actually brings me to a big takeaway as I read the final chapters. In my initial reflection, (and entire year ago) I talk about how I was certain Birdmen was prematurely cut short. And while there is probably a world Takayama could witness in his multiverse seeing eyes, where Birdmen runs for several more volumes and the playout of years of arcs goes much longer, I ultimately want to rescind that thought. 

I don’t think the ending was rushed. I don’t think Tanabe was racing against a clock to wrap things up. I don’t think she was dropping million plot threads into the void out of necessity. It is very clear at every point toward the end that Tanabe knew exactly where she was going and was taking a straight shot to that destination at every point. 

Yes, there are some characters that did not get a long enough time in the spotlight. Yes, there is a boundless potential to explore with many characters and concepts. Yes, there is an element of fallout that was left unaddressed. But this doesn’t make it unfinished or unsatisfying. The mundane, realistic nature of the narrative, allows this lack of tangible book-ends. It has uncertainty. The resolutions are not perfect. Not every person in your life is going to shine in the same way (no matter how much you like them). Their purpose in the narrative may seem small but has ripples of effects on the characters and chemistry of the collective. This is not wasted. I knew this wasn’t rushed because the primary themes of these characters came through and they were given all the space and time and panels they needed to tell that story. I noted this most when Robin was having that discussion with Agent Leo about her address to the media at the White House. The back and forth and revelations of Robin’s entire arc were expressed in this one conversation and it lasted several pages. This is the final volume of the story and this nuance is getting the full dry clean treatment. How can I claim that this was rushed? If I had to claim any ill intent I might say we would have gotten a few more chapters of proper fallout, but that would only be for the sake of neatness. But as I mentioned there is something grounded about taking that away and leaving that to the imagination. 

And thus, I’m left feeling incredibly satisfied. So impossibly satisfied. Birdmen has become something so integral to my life and I feel changed having known and loved it. To see it take a bow as gracefully and profoundly as it did fills me with a personal satisfaction I cannot put into words. This is and will forever be, one of the finest stories I will ever read. 

There is a part of me refreshed. Inspired by the daring embrace of reality. Charmed by the beautiful characters. Intrigued by the possibilities still to be discussed. I am almost left a little overwhelmed with how much I want to do as a response, both for the sake and honor of Birdmen and for my own personal motivations. It’s a kind of weightlessness, burdened by crippling fear. 

It’s a lot like flying really. 

[eclecticanalyst]

We’re Expecting You...To Boldly Go [part 2]

In my last post, I expounded on the similarities in the general premise and structure of The Love Boat and Star Trek: The Next Generation, two shows that on the surface seem not to have much in common but on closer examination have some unexpected similarities. In my follow-up post on this theme, I will be drawing parallels between the main/regular characters of both shows. The crew lineup on each ship can be broken down into six character functions/profiles: The Captain, The Captain’s Confidant, The Big Brother, The Two Buds, The Chick, and The Kid.

The Captain

Star Trek TNG: Captain Jean-Luc Picard

The Love Boat: Captain Merrill Stubing

“The Captain” is...the captain! Beyond his role as the primary authority figure, he can be characterized in the following ways. Being the one to whom the rest of the crew reports, he is a bit socially removed from the rest of the main characters. While they can pal around with each other, they still treat him with a bit more deference even as he comes to be just as integral a part of their found family as the rest of them. The Captain can be rather intimidating at times—especially in the early days, when he had a tendency to be overly gruff with his crew. Part of that gruffness is the fact that he has very high standards for the people who serve under him. At the same time, however, he cares deeply for those people and is willing to put himself on the line for them, even bending the rules a bit in order to help them out of a difficult spot. He’s full of thoughtful advice should one of his crew ask for it, and is the most likely of the crew to give speeches about moral responsibility. He also has a playful streak, which he keeps under wraps but uses to mess with his crew from time to time. In terms of appearance, he’s older than the rest of the cast and he is bald(ing). He’s played by the best actor of the cast—Patrick Stewart is, of course, Patrick Stewart, I don’t think I really need to say more there, and Gavin MacLeod was a veteran actor (probably best known at that point for his role as Murray on The Mary Tyler Moore Show), able to handle both the comic and the dramatic whenever needed.

The Captain’s Confidant

Star Trek TNG: Dr. Beverly Crusher

The Love Boat: Dr. Adam “Doc” Bricker

I could have called this character profile “The Doctor,” following the same pattern as “The Captain,” but there was another aspect to Beverly and Doc that I wanted to draw attention to, beyond their being the respective healers of their crews. Both Beverly and Doc have a slightly different relationship with the Captain than the other members of the crew. They are a bit closer to the Captain, able to address him easily as a friend instead of as a superior officer if the situation calls for it. Notice that when working, Beverly will address Picard as “Captain” and “sir,” but when it’s just the two of them chatting in a more intimate setting she calls him “Jean-Luc.” Beverly is also one of the few people on board that Picard is comfortable with opening up to regarding his own insecurities or worries, while he takes more care to maintain his “self-assured captain” persona with everyone else. The same dynamic plays out between Stubing and Doc: there are several instances of Doc addressing his friend as “Merrill”—which none of the other members of the crew would even consider doing—and the power difference between the two is not as pronounced as it is between the captain and the other crew members. Whenever Captain Stubing has a personal problem, he goes to Doc for advice, and vice versa. Dr. Crusher and Captain Picard have a history, having been friends long before he took command of the Enterprise. In the same vein, Doc seems to know Captain Stubing’s past more intimately than the rest of the crew, as there are a few episodes in which the two of them discuss Captain Stubing’s alcohol addiction and current status as a teetotaler as if this is something Doc has always known about Merrill.

The Big Brother

Star Trek TNG: William Riker

The Love Boat: Adam “Doc” Bricker

So this is cheating a bit because I already have Doc listed under a character profile above, but TNG’s main cast has more people than that of TLB, so a one-to-one mapping wasn’t going to happen anyway. Doc’s “Captain’s Confidant” role deals with his relationship with the captain, and his “Big Brother” role deals with his relationship with the rest of the regulars. The fact that Doc is a bit older than Julie, Isaac, and Gopher means that even though he, like the rest of them, is under the supervision of the captain, he has a slight position of seniority over the other three. He balances the by-turns mischievous and responsible aspects of an older brother figure—he’ll tease Julie about her latest infatuation, and set up elaborate pranks to mess with Gopher, yet whenever Gopher and Isaac get swept up in some not-well-thought-out scheme, he’s the level-headed one who tries to point out that they’ve gotten carried away—or sometimes refuses to get involved altogether. William Riker is, of course, first officer of the Enterprise, and therefore has the same seniority-among-underlings position (in a more official chain of command capacity than Doc does). His big-brother-ness manifests as the poker-playing, jazz-loving guy who will do things like give Worf’s son music recordings that he knows Worf will hate one day but get actively upset and almost personally offended at the idea of Data getting hurt the next.

Not necessarily related to the “Big Brother” role, but another little parallel between Doc and Riker that I would like to point out—they are each the designated ladies’ man of their ships, yet both are able to completely switch to focusing solely on their job responsibilities the moment it is called for. (Honestly, Doc always struck me as going beyond “ladies’ man” and skirting dangerously close to “creep” territory at times, but I did appreciate how he would always drop everything the instant there was any sort of medical issue on the Princess.)

The Two Buds

Star Trek TNG: Geordi La Forge and Data

The Love Boat: Isaac Washington and Burl “Gopher” Smith

Although both the TNG and TLB crews form a group of close friends, The Two Buds are best friends. They are the two most likely people to hang out together in their down time, the two who understand each other the best, the two most sympathetic to each other’s problems and most likely to indulge the other long after everyone else would have put their foot down. When Gopher gets some conspiracy theory into his head about a passenger, Isaac will hear him out and sometimes even help him investigate. When Data wants to do some questionable experimentation on his positronic net, Geordi is there with a tricorder making sure the whole thing doesn’t go completely haywire. Data once said that he didn’t know what a friend was until he met Geordi, and Isaac once told Gopher that he (Gopher) is the only one Isaac would resign in solidarity for. All four men/androids have a tendency to get a little too wrapped up in their obsession of the week—see Isaac’s novel-writing attempts, Geordi’s holographic Leah Brahms, Gopher’s conspiracy theories, and about half of anything Data does.

Each pair also consists of one white guy and one Black guy. (Obviously, Data is an android and therefore is not technically any human race or ethnicity, but he’s played by a white guy and his artificial skin is paler than anyone else’s skin on the senior staff.) The white guy representatives, Gopher and Data, are almost polar opposites—Data is calm and logical, and Captain Picard trusts him implicitly, while Gopher is a goof who freaks out easily and who is often upset with the way Captain Stubing dismisses him (those dismissals are especially prominent in the first few seasons—Gopher does mellow out later on). But they do have some similarities, one of the most striking being that they both struggle with appropriate social behavior as well as their own emotions. This is more readily apparent with Data, of course, who is literally not human and is trying his best to understand the nuances of things like humor and love, constantly asking his friends to explain behaviors they take for granted. Gopher’s struggles are more understated—he has a tendency to make comments and observations that the rest of the crew find slightly tasteless, he goes into several anxious tailspins over the course of the show, and he at one point believes his emotional attachments to his friends compromise his ability to fulfill his job duties. Both Data and Gopher use their respective best friends—each of whom are the more level-headed of the pair—as a steadying force.

Now for the characteristics shared by those respective best friends. The Black guy’s job responsibilities root him in a specific place and often set him slightly apart from the main action. While Geordi can and does go up to the bridge on several occasions, as Chief of Engineering he spends most of his time hanging around the warp core, communicating with the bridge over the com system. Meanwhile, Isaac can be seen wandering hallways and so forth, but he spends most of his time behind the bar, whether that’s in the Acapulco Lounge, on the Lido Deck, or in Pirate’s Cove. The rest of the crew, despite having nominal work stations like the Enterprise bridge or the Pacific Princess purser’s lobby, are seen to roam more extensively. (I’m pretty sure we never see Julie’s office.) Isaac is busy serving drinks in pretty much every episode while Doc and Gopher are chatting and dancing with passengers on the dance floor of the Acapulco Lounge. The Black guy also gets the short end of the stick in the romance department. When you see a Black guest actor on the opening credits of The Love Boat, it’s a good bet that Isaac will be involved in their storyline. If it’s just one Black woman, there’s a 99% chance that Isaac will be involved in her story, and his involvement will be as her love interest. I remember one particularly glaring example of the show going to extreme lengths to avoid even hinting that Isaac could potentially do something vaguely romantic or sexual with a white woman—Julie’s hosting her high school reunion on the ship, and there are a few scenes where everyone is discoing in the Acapulco Lounge. Isaac gets out on the dance floor, and conveniently some random Black woman appears out of nowhere as his dance partner. This woman is not named or acknowledged at any other point in the episode. Over on the Enterprise, Geordi isn’t restricted along race lines like Isaac, but I find it highly suspicious that the one Black guy is the least successful in romance out of everyone on the senior staff. Geordi struggles to even start up a conversation with women he’s attracted to, let alone flirt with them. Data has a better romance track record than Geordi does, and Data usually ends up in a romantic entanglement by accident! It’s as if the show was afraid to let Geordi enjoy those kinds of relationships to the same degree as the rest of the crew, which is a different kind of restriction than Isaac’s, but still a restriction nonetheless.

The Chick

Star Trek TNG: Deanna Troi

The Love Boat: Julie McCoy

The standard lineup for both TNG and The Love Boat consisted two female main characters, thus allowing the ladies to gossip about “girly” things in keeping with gender stereotypes, but Vicki was a preteen/teenager and Beverly had a sort of matron vibe going on, which left Julie and Troi to be the respective sex appeal characters out of the main cast. The Chick has non-standard dress that sets her apart from the others and their status as officers. While Doc, Gopher, and Captain Stubing wore nautical stripes and white uniforms (and Isaac usually had a variation on this outfit, wearing a red or blue jacket), with very little in the way of costume changes whether they were greeting boarding passengers, chatting on the Lido deck, or dancing in the Acapulco Lounge, Julie had no stripes to speak of. She would wear a (feminine) uniform at boarding, switch to a casual outfit during the rest of the day, and was always wearing a gown of some sort in the evenings. Deanna Troi for her part cycled through purple jumpsuits and asymmetrical dresses, her Starfleet badge precariously pinned to her neckline. We didn’t even get to see the pips indicating her rank until she was finally given (in story, ordered into) a normal uniform in season six.

The Chick gets saddled with way too many romance plots, some creepier than others. Giving Troi something substantial to do in an episode usually consisted of making her the love interest of whoever happened to be boarding the Enterprise that week, like the ambassador with the telepathic interpreters or the quarter-Betazoid interplanetary negotiator. Deanna also got her mind invaded by a man who was interested in her, prematurely aged by a man who took advantage of her, and kidnapped by Ferengi (who have a disturbing species-wide infatuation with non-Ferengi women). I’m not as upset about Julie having several romance-related plots, as romance was the name of the game on The Love Boat and the men on the crew had their own share of romantic entanglements—but I do find issue with the fact that when Julie was in love she always seemed on the verge of getting married and leaving the ship, which was a vibe we didn’t really get from, say, Doc or Gopher when their love lives turned particularly intense. In terms of creepiness, Julie had to deal with fending off the extremely aggressive advances of Captain Stubing’s uncle, a computer programmer who rigged his dating algorithm to ensure he matched with her, and a college acquaintance of Gopher who actually came to her door to badger her as she was getting dressed.

The Kid

Star Trek TNG: Wesley Crusher

The Love Boat: Vicki Stubing

For some reason, both of these shows thought it necessary to have a preteen/teenager in the cast whose character has way more responsibility than is realistic for either a cruise ship or a pseudomilitary starship. Instead of Vicki wearing a uniform and checking in guests on the Pacific Princess, we really should have seen Julie’s or Gopher’s staff fulfilling check-in duty (Doc and Isaac were also too often seen checking in passengers, which I will say again is a duty that on a real cruise ship would definitely not fall to either the ship’s doctor or chief bartender, but we’re talking about Vicki at the moment). Wesley, meanwhile, was made Acting Ensign on the Enterprise, saving the ship way more than he should have and probably earning the ire of all the official ensigns who actually went to Starfleet Academy and were losing precious time at the conn due to Picard’s favoritism.

Speaking of Picard, The Captain has a paternal relationship with The Kid—literally in Vicki Stubing’s case, emotionally in Wesley Crusher’s. He is very concerned with imbuing The Kid with strong morals, and has a vested interest in The Kid’s upbringing and making sure The Kid has a bright future. Meanwhile, the rest of the main crew are like an assortment of aunts and uncles, being the cool, approachable sources of advice when The Captain’s not around. In fact, The Kid hardly seems to have any friends their own age. Instead, they hang out with the adult crew members and get involved in their social drama, which may or may not have always been appropriate.

Isn’t there someone you forgot?

The TNG fans among you may now be thinking to yourselves, “What about Worf?” Alas, there seems to be no satisfactory Worf counterpart on The Love Boat. After all, there isn’t really any need for a tactical officer on a cruise ship, so a warrior-type personality is not represented on the Pacific Princess crew. Other Worf characteristics would be that of an outsider, or one who is occasionally not sure if they truly belong on the ship, but everyone on the Princess seems pretty happy to be there. I guess in a pinch I could say Ace, the late-addition ship’s photographer, might serve as Worf’s counterpart, but other than the fact that Ace’s family is rich and it is established that he doesn’t really need a job on the ship to get by, I’m not sure there’s much of an “outsider” status brought to the table here. I also haven’t watched enough Ace episodes to have a really good read on his character.

 Thus ends my Love Boat/TNG comparison! It was nice to finally get this analysis out of my head and onto the page.

[kaitycole]

Fragments

Summary: It’s the early morning of the day Riley should be on a plane with Drake to their honeymoon. Instead she’s in bed with Liam, listening to how things were when we got divorced.

This is the ninth installment to My Best’s Friend’s Wedding

A/N: Thanks for coming along for the ride, let me know if you want to be added to a permatag list.

Pairings: Liam x Madeleine (past tense), Drake x Riley (mentioned), Liam x Riley

Word Count: 1804

Tag List: @liamxs-world @lynn1214 @mynameiskaylabella @mrswalkers-blog            @drakelover78 @gardeningourmet @zilch3 @speedyoperarascalparty   @umccall71 @mrsdrakewalkerblog @hopefulmoonobject  @sleepwalkingelite            @annekebbphotography @jared2612 @indiacater@lodberg @lauradowning29 @dcbbw @araihc-ce @cora-nova @pedudley @custaroonie

           “Liam,” Riley says, lying in bed with him. After the whole ordeal with Drake, Liam had the King’s Guard escort them to the palace. It broke his heart to watch Drake yell at her and even more to hear Drake feel so broken. Liam is torn between the love of his life and his best friend.

           “Yes, love?” He pulls her closer to him.

           “What happened with Madeleine? Why didn’t you ever call about the divorce?”

           He takes a deep breath, thinking about all it.

           “Liam, I know this isn’t ideal, but you can’t just shut me out.” Madeleine argues.

           He doesn’t want to hear it, in fact he doesn’t want to hear her anymore. They’ve done nothing but fight since about six months after the wedding.

           “Just stop!” He shouts, bringing her to a complete silence, “I’m sick of fighting. What happened to you do you and I’ll do me?”

           “That wasn’t possible and you know it. We have to make appearances. We have a duty to our country.”

           He has heard this so many times over the last few years that he just wants to scream.

           “We do. We look strong for the press, we each have our own project that we work on and we do work together on other projects.” He’s irritated now. Standing up, he walks over to the small table that holds glasses and whiskey. He pours himself a drink, enjoying the slight burn he feels as he swallows.

           “No Liam, our citizens know. They are dumb, if anyone is, it’s you! You are the one who is blind to all of this!” She shouts, “We are leaving the throne unstable and you know it!”

           He slams the glass down, “You aren’t Riley! I don’t want children with anyone but her!”

           “I don’t want to be Riley! I want to be a mother!”

           He watches her demeanor fall, he wants to feel remorse for what he’s done to her. For taking away years of her life where she could’ve been a mother, been with someone who truly loves her, but he can’t.

           “Mad—I’m sorry, but you know how I feel about this.”

           Shaking her head, she wipes the tears from her eyes, “Then I want out.”

           He’s pouring himself another drink, “Out? You can walk out the office anytime.”

           “No, Liam. I want out of this marriage.”

*          *

           Later that night when Liam finally heads into his sleeping chambers, he notices that Madeleine isn’t there. He doesn’t think much of it, even when she doesn’t show up for breakfast, he shrugs it off.

           It isn’t until dinner that he begins to wonder where she is. He frowns, trying to think of who to call.

           “Hello?” A baby is screaming in the background of the call.

           “Leo, I need help.”

           “What’s up?” Leo is shushing the baby.

           “Madeleine, she’s missing.”

           Liam hears his brother laugh, “What? Madi? Missing?”

           “We had a fight…another one and I haven’t seen her all day.”

           Leo grows quiet on his end, “Did she go home?”

           “I never thought to call.”

           “Well go do that and let me know.”

           The brothers exchange pleasantries before ending the call and Liam calls Adelaide.

           “Hello?”

           “It’s Liam. I was wondering…”

           “You have some nerve. I respect you as King, but my daughter doesn’t deserve this!”

           “I know, trust me I know. I was just wanting to speak to her.”

           “You can come up to Fydelia, but I don’t think it’s good for her to return to the palace just yet.” She hangs up the phone before Liam can say another word.

           “Bastien?” Liam calls from his desk, “Can you arrange a trip to Fydelia for tomorrow?”

           He hangs the phone up and sighs. ‘What am I supposed to do?’

*          *

           He gets out of the car and walks towards the dutchy. He hasn’t been here in years, if he was being honest, he wasn’t sure if Madeleine had been either until recently.

           “King Liam,” Godfrey nods as Liam walks in. “How are those trade deals coming?”

           “Well Godfrey,” his eyes scanning, looking for his wife, “I haven’t forgotten Fydelia in my considerations.”

           “Oh now, Godfrey, he didn’t come to speak to about business, he’s here to see Madeleine.” Adelaide ushers Liam away, letting him know she was in the garden.

           “Watch! Watch!” A little girl starts running before flipping into a cartwheel before Madeleine.

           “Good job!” Madeleine praises the young girl with a huge smile on her face, “Just remember what I told you and you’ll keep doing great.”

           Liam watches from a distance before approaching. He had never seen this girl before, he had never seen Madeleine interact with a child before, it was like he was seeing someone new.

           The little girl freezes when she sees Liam, causing Madeleine to follow her stare. She stands up and straightens her skirt before addressing him.

           “Liam.”

           “Madeleine. And this is?” He motions to the little girl who has positioned herself behind Madeleine.

           “This is Sarah. She’s my maid Emily’s granddaughter.” She turns, kneeling to get eye level with Sarah, “Would you like to say hello?”

           Sarah slowly walks from around Madeleine’s legs, “You’re really the king?”

           Liam chuckles. “I even have the crown to prove it, “ he winks.

           Sarah blushes, “Does Madi have a crown too?”

           Liam tilts his head, he’s never heard anyone call her anything other than her full name.

           “I do, honey, it’s really beautiful.” Madeleine says.

           “Like the ones I have!?” Sarah’s eyes widen and she giggles.

           “Yes. I think yours are even bigger!” She laughs, “Why don’t you go find your mom, so I can talk to King Liam.”

           Sarah waves goodbye to them both as she skips off to the dutchy.

           “So Madi, since when do you interact with the help?”

           Her smile drops, rage covers her face, “Do NOT call me Madi or call Sarah the help, got it?”

           Liam blinks in shock, he’d seen her mad, but never like this, “I’m sorry.”

           “Emily has been with me since I was a young girl, her daughter died when having Sarah and I arranged for Sarah to move in here with Emily.”

           ‘Who is this woman?’ He thinks to himself.

           “Did you come here for something?” She crosses her arms.

           “I…I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday.”

           “You could’ve called.” She motions him towards a bench where they both sit.

           “I shouldn’t have said what I did, it’s not fair to compare you to Riley,” he starts. He then goes into detail about how he was selfish to dictate their marriage. From forcing her into a loveless marriage when he could’ve picked Kiara or Penelope, for not even discussing children, and even being mad at her for his unhappiness.

           He continues to talk to her about everything and how seeing her today, happy and laughing with Sarah made him realize that she deserved to find the happiness that he thought he deserved. That if she wanted out of the marriage, he’d start the proceedings.

           “But, that would leave the throne unstable again. It can’t keep taking hits, Liam. Cordonia will turn against you.”

           “That’s my responsibility. I’ve stolen four years from you and my brother, well we both know Leo. You deserve better than what the Rys men have given you.”

           “While I appreciate that, my father won’t allow his only daughter to be tainted with a divorce label.”

           “I’m the King, I’m sure I can arrange some discretion.” He smiles at her.

           “Thank you, Liam.”

           “I can throw you a social season, if you’d like.”

           She throws her hands up, “I’ve had enough social seasons to last a lifetime.”

*          *

           Later that night, Liam returns to the palace, slumping in his office chair. Taking a deep breath, he tries to figure out what he’s going to do. It wasn’t ideal to divorce Madeleine, it wasn’t ideal to have been married for almost four years and not have produced an heir, but if he was being completely honest, he was never supposed to be king, so of course none of this made sense.

           He pulls out a tabloid from the bottom drawer of his desk that’s hidden under stacks of folders. The edges have curled up from age, the cover has the slightest tears from handling over the years. It’s the first picture the press took of Liam and Riley, at the regatta.

           She had a white and black three-quarter length shirt on with blue shorts. She had a belt that looked like a rope, clearly using the sailing theme to her advantage. Her long hair flowed over her shoulder, the red at the bottom of her hair had been touched up, she looked beautiful. He pulls out the other tabloids he has in the drawer, the pages where Riley’s picture was or when her interviews were, they were all bookmarked.

           On nights he couldn’t sleep, he’d read them. Trying for just grasp the feelings that he felt back when she was his. Back when the biggest problem they faced was how they would sneak away from prying eyes.

           The last tabloid was facing downward, he wasn’t sure why he kept it. When it first came out, he went to every newsstand, dropped a wad of cash to the vendor and tore every single one of them up. Luckily Madeleine was able to pull strings and keep the photos of him destroying the magazines out of the public eye. Liam takes a deep breath before flipping it over, as far as he knew, it was the only one left after he called and threatened the press. It was the cover that announced Riley and Drake were getting married.

           He knew it was going to happen. Drake had told him he had feelings and even when Liam proposed, she still claimed to have feelings for Drake. He knew why she left him, she did it to protect him, to protect them, but that didn’t make it any better.

           She had flown to Cordonia to see the Beaumont brothers and Hana. Liam hadn’t known until he went there and saw her. They made love that night, she finally came clear and told him everything. Why she left, why she couldn’t keep the baby, and why that was there last night they could see each other. She loved him and told him that if she said, it would only break her heart. So, against his better judgment, he slipped away in the middle of the night, leaving the love of his life and his heart in that room.

*          *

           “I don’t ever want to lose you again, Liam.” She wipes a tear falling down her cheek.

           He pulls her into his lap, effortlessly, “That’s never going to happen.”

           She kisses him, “You promise?”

           “Until my last dying breath.”

[hereticpriest]

Sparks Part 1

John Wick Post Chapter 2 AU

John was made excommunicado but without the bounty on his head. He moves away and lives a normal life for once.

Warnings: None for this chapter. Future chapters may become NSFW. Canon-typical violence and swearing may occur in later chapters. Will be tagged.

@lvngdvns

It took a while for John to feel comfortable after his expulsion from the world he’d lived in most of his life. Unlike when he got out the first time, he felt quite certain that someone would come after him just for the prestige of having killed John Wick. He wasn’t protected in the same way he was the first time. He didn’t have a contract out for his head, but he was no longer welcome at the Continental, and he had plenty of enemies around the world.

His new home was outside of the city, up in a less inhabited region of upstate New York. The town closest to his new home was quaint, with only a bookstore, a pet store/groomer home business, a grocery store, a bank, a family restaurant, a hardware store and a gas station. The neighbouring town had a Target and a couple of chain fast food places, but anything beyond that would require a longer drive into the city. He had everything he needed close by, he had his dog, and he finally had the time to grieve.

Peace didn’t necessarily come easy to John. It took him months to stop looking over his shoulder and pulling his gun over random noises at night. He stopped wearing his tactical vest suit every day after a couple of months, though he didn’t get rid of it. It took him a while to become comfortable going out, but after a couple of months, he became a regular at the local bookstore. It was a small business owned by a young local woman, and it contained the only decent coffee in town. The Nestled Nook was in the old bank, so it had a very old school aesthetic and a reading area in the back which was once a vault. It was also one of the few places in town that had free wifi, and the download speed was faster there than it was at his house.

Which is how he met Natalia.

Natalia owned and operated The Nestled Nook with only minor assistance from her sole employee, Courtney Holland. Where Courtney was loud and boisterous in her efforts to sell product, Natalia was calm and disarming. Where Courtney was the epitome of youthful optimism, Natalia was what one would think of when hearing the phrase ‘an old woman in a young woman’s body’. They were opposites in almost every way, including in appearance.

Courtney had a sunkissed tan, pin-straight brown hair, and brown eyes that were so light they looked like the colour of honey. She was younger than Natalia by only four years, but her youth shone in a way that made the age gap so much more pronounced. She was not so average in height, but extraordinarily average in weight, and carried both off quite well. Tall as a beanpole with a slight pear shape and thighs that she claimed could snap a man’s neck, Courtney was one hell of a woman.

John couldn’t claim to be very fond of interacting with Courtney at length, as she had a tendency to push boundaries and ask probing questions. That being said, she had also married the owner of the local pet store and had helped him quite a bit when he was choosing things for Dog. He liked her well enough but kept her at arms-length in order to avoid her prying.

Natalia, on the other hand, was as white as a porcelain doll if not for the freckles dotted across her skin. Her hair fell in red curls around her face when she let it down, but she generally kept it in a loose bun held with hair needles and a whole lot of luck. Her eyes were such a light shade of blue that they were nearly grey, framed by long, pale lashes and crow’s feet at the corners that she was far too young to have. Natalia was average in height at about 5’6, but her shape was closer to a typical hourglass figure. She was toned where Courtney was soft, but she always made the excuse that it was from carrying books all the time.

John didn’t believe her when she waved off Courtney’s questions with that excuse, but he wasn’t supposed to be listening from his place in the stacks. He was waiting for Courtney to head back into the coffee bar area so that he could speak to Natalia and get her latest recommendations. She always knew what to suggest, and she always seemed to know when he needed a distraction. Despite his best efforts, he found her to be a rather tempting distraction. Natalia was just over half his age, a gentle soul, and most certainly not his wife. That being said, he had spent quite a bit of time adjusting to his new life and thinking about Helen’s note to him. She had made her wishes quite clear before that as well. She didn’t want him to dwell and close himself off completely. She told him he needed something to love. It had been just over a year since Helen passed away, and he finally felt some measure of peace.

Courtney batted at Natalia playfully, then glanced in his direction and smiled. She leaned in to Natalia’s ear, whispering something he couldn’t make out right before tweaking Natalia’s ear. Natalia’s cheeks turned pink, the blush showing easily on her light skin, and she tried to punch Courtney on the arm but missed. Courtney danced out of her reach and laughed full and loud.

“Even just one good one would last you for a while, Nat. You’re not as old as you act; you can’t use being too busy as an excuse forever.” Courtney practically sang, moving past him through the aisles towards the coffee bar. As she passed him, the brunette winked playfully and threw out a quick “Evening, Mr. Wick.”

Natalia had turned away from him, fanning herself and muttering something about nosy employees sticking their noses into her business. She wore her typical uniform: a black skirt that flared out around her stocking covered thighs and a white button-up topped with a cozy cardigan. If she wasn’t wearing a button up, she usually wore a sweater or a book-themed t-shirt.

“Natalia.” John greeted her quietly, a bit of a smirk tugging at his lips when she jumped in response.

“Oh! John, sorry, you startled me.” Natalia turned to face him, offering him a warm smile that caused the corners of her eyes to crinkle and emphasized her dimples.

“Sorry, my fault. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I’ve finished the last couple of books. I was wondering if you had any more suggestions?” John murmured, rubbing his short beard. He certainly didn’t look as intimidating as he usually did, considering his suit had been replaced by plain blue jeans and a white crew neck. That being said, his posture had only softened a bit and he was still just as quiet as he used to be.

Natalia laughed quietly, offering him her arm as a joke. Her laughter grew louder when he actually took her arm, large hand closing around her bicep to feel out her muscle tone.

“Of course, Mr. Wick. What are you looking for today?”

“Fiction. I’m interested in something different today…” John trailed off, starting to over-think his choice.

“And what would that be, John?” Natalia asked, leading him in the direction of the fiction novels.

“… Romance, I think.” John said before he could worry too much and talk himself out of it.

“Oh, I see. What sort of romance were you thinking? Are you looking for something mixed-genre where the romance is only part of the story, or flat-out romance? Serious, or light-hearted?”

Well, apparently that had flown right over her silly ginger head. John thought briefly of what Helen would tell him in this moment, oddly enough. She wanted him to be happy. She would be upset with him if he wasted away by himself. She was his best friend, and she knew him better than he knew himself some days.

“Would you like to get dinner with me tonight?” John asked after using his grip on Natalia’s bicep to guide her to stop walking. Wide blue eyes caught his gaze, and he offered her a small, reassuring smile. The young woman was silent for a moment, and he started to worry for a second before the corners of her lips turned up.

“Oh, of course John. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging there, I apologize. I just… wasn’t expecting that.” Natalia’s smile was brighter than usual, and there was a humour to her voice that usually wasn’t there. He took that as a good sign, considering the redhead was usually quite reserved. He nodded briefly, stepping just a tiny bit closer so she would have to look up at him.

“Do you want to eat at the Old Chelsea, go out of town, or would you like me to cook?” He asked, releasing his hold on her bicep, though he couldn’t help a small smile when Natalia caught and squeezed his hand.

“If we eat at the Old Chelsea, we will not get a single moment of peace. If you want to cook, I’d be happy to help?” Natalia offered, then giggled softly, “And what you’re thinking is completely correct – I am most certainly using you for your adorable dog.”

John snorted, and Natalia’s smile widened in response. She led him through the stacks to the romance section, pulling out a book before he could catch the title. Three stacks over, she grabbed another book, and lastly, she led him over to a ‘New Releases’ stack to pick up the sequel to one of the books he had read recently. She stacked up the three and put them in his hands, then scribbled her cellphone number onto a piece of paper which topped off the stack of books. John smirked at the sight of the number and the heart drawn next to it.

“Here are my suggestions. Take a look, and then come see me if you need more help. Text me what time you want me to come over. And your address.” Natalia leaned up to kiss his cheek, then headed up to the front of the store, leaving a smiling John Wick with the slightest hint of a pink kiss on his cheek from Natalia’s lip balm.

Twenty minutes later, he purchased all three suggested books from a smirking Courtney. She didn’t say anything, but it was clear she knew, approved, and thought she was very smart for predicting this.

“Bye Mr. Wick. Have a good night.” Courtney sang cheekily after him.

“I intend on it.” He retorted, waving at her over his shoulder, then letting out a short laugh when he heard a thump followed by Courtney yelping.

913 Bois-Franc Ave. Any time after 4, dinner will be at 5:30. Dog is excited to see you again. – JW

Be there with bells on. I’m excited to see him too. What should I wear? – NJ

You just said you would be wearing bells. – JW

Dress comfortably. It’s just me. – JW

I need to wear something under the bells, John. – NJ

Don’t even. I realized it as I hit send. I will be there just after 4. PS Courtney says you have lipstick on your cheek. – NJ

[thegreen1969pontiac]

L’appel Du Vide Chapter 4- Midnight Coffee

                                          Eventual Dean x OC

Summary: When Hope’s sister is killed in a less than a normal house fire, and Sam, her sister’s boyfriend, disappears with his brother after her death they’re her number one suspects. When the cops declare the case cold she begins her hunt for the Winchester boys. She follows them in hope for some evidence pointing to the death of her sister, but will she find more than just the cause and the killer? Will she find out more than she wanted to?

Warning: creepy guy, very minor sexual themes, language, crappy writing

Word Count: 2434

I've got to admit, the Winchester boys seem to be the hardest to track men in the USA, well, besides my uncle. They seem like ghosts. Sam showed up to Stanford about four years ago, he came on an almost full-ride scholarship and no family to help him move in on moving day.  He was a smart guy, he was top of his class in almost all the schools he was forced to move around to. His dad, John, was a marine. They originated from Lawrence, Kansas, Dean was born January 24, 1979, which seemed to just rip me apart even more seeing as Jess was born the same day in 1984. But John Winchester seemed to disappear the date his wife, Mary died, November 2, 1983, just a year after my sister was born, and to the date the day she died.  Two November 2nd both involving the Winchester boys. What was this some family cult that killed the women of the family? What the hell? After asking the professors at the university, it seems that Sam was pretty normal. Quiet, courteous, polite and intelligent, but nothing out of the ordinary.

After all of this, there was only the date of the deaths that pointed to murder. I needed to find someone that my sister knew, someone who would know what kind of man Sam was. My sister mentioned this guy, he brought them together. This guy named Brady, Jess mentioned him once or twice he wasn't a close friend of hers just someone she met at a college party at one point. If you can imagine there was a shit ton of Brady's at Stanford University, after about 12 hours of driving Theo from frat house to apartment, it wasn't until maybe the 23rd Brady that I finally found the one that knew her. Brady was a successful kid it seemed that he had a job all lined up for him at Niveus Pharmaceuticals, a company that seemed to profit off the sickness of others. But I guess in his mind it would get the bills of Stanford University paid, he was a charismatic young man I could see why Jess let him set her up with Sam. He asked me to come in,

"Are you Brady? Did you know my sister Jessica Moore?" I ask already feeling tried from asking the same question over and over again.

"I'm Brady, yeah. I knew her, I heard what happened. Who are you?" He asked in almost an accusatory manner.

"I'm her sister, I go by Moore. May I sit?" I say already losing patience with the rich and snotty Stanford kid.

"Oh, yeah, yeah of course. Sorry for your loss."  He rushes out.

"I'd just like to ask some questions if you wouldn't mind, just for some closure." I come up with my excuse, it's not for closure though it is for knowledge.

"Yeah, yeah, what do you want to know?" He asks he gestures for me to sit down on the Italian leather coach that he probably paid way too much for.

"My sister, she had a boyfriend, What was his name again? Was it Smitty?" I ask playing stupid, I need to confirm his name, get some information on this sick son of a bitch.

"No, his name was Sam, Sam Winchester. I actually introduced the two." He smiled to himself almost proud that he introduced the two to each other.

"Yeah, good for you. Did you know Sam well? I didn't see him at the funeral, I just wanted to check up on him you know, help me understand how he is dealing with all of this," I stated, "I mean do you know where he is, I couldn't find a single record of where he could've gone after the fire." I smile, playing the victim wasn't ever my role.

"I don't know where he is now but I heard that he went on a road trip with his brother right before the house went down," He says, "I think I might someone who does though, her name is Becky Warren, she and her brother were friends with Sam when he was here. I really hope you find him though, but hey, I gotta get to lacrosse practice so..." He leads off, how did I know this douche would play lacrosse.

"No, I totally get it. Thank you for your time." I say and stand up, I walk out of the house and head to the address. I finally get to the house that is owned by the Warren family. There are only two cars parked in the driveway. I walk up the driveway and am at the door when the door swings open an I'm met with a frazzled looking girl.

"Are you Becky?" I ask blocking her exit from the house.

"Yeah, look, I have to get going I have class in like 10 minutes." She tries to move around me but I move in front of her again,

"Look, I need to know where Sam Winchester is and I was told you could help me if you could just give me a general idea I will be out of your hair," I say,

"I don't give out my friend's locations to strangers so why don't you piss off." She said and made a move to go around me but this time a grab her jacket and push her against the door frame.

"Yeah, well I don't usually arrange funerals for dead family members but it seems like we are all having a bad year," I growl at her,

"So I am going to ask you one more god damn time, you are going to tell me where my dead sister's boyfriend is or I swear to God I will make you and your brother's life the most miserable they can be, so you can know how I have felt every god damn day since I heard my baby sister was killed in that fire." I hiss out at her.

"I don't know okay, he only texts me so often." She whimpers, "The last I heard he was in Ohio." I smile and let her off the doorstep.

"See, that's all I needed we didn't need to get all nasty. Now lets hope we don't see each other again shall we?" Yeah, we can only hope, right? I turn on my heel and walk to Theo.

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

A suburban Ohio town has been dealing with the murder of one of their own Steven Shoemaker died in a strange way, the obituary said it was a stroke. But his eyes basically burst out of his skull. Death although seems to follow these boys so why not take a look. Toledo, Ohio was quite the apple pie life town, it was full of high school sweethearts and minivans, but under all of that sticky sweetness, I could tell that there were some underlying skeletons in the closet of the gingerbread house town. Driving there wasn't much of an issue after running on only alcohol and granola bars for about three weeks, it is nice to have a change to coffee and diner food. The food that was eaten along the way to Ohio made me feel like crap but the coffee was always warm and the diners mainly stayed open for 24 hours. That's where I am now, sitting at a 24-hour diner with checkered tiles and bright red seats. The coffee on the table no matter how much I want to say it was black and sound like the badass, it had two creamers and three sugars in it. I was researching the town on my lab top, when the sun peeks its way from behind the family houses I'm heading down to the coroners to get a closer look at the body of the victim. Its been around two days since I had a decent shower so I decided to pack up early and make myself not look like the sleep deprived, alcohol smelling, mess that I am.

The hotel life had been abandoned, motels were now my realm. I can't tell if it is because I don't trust myself to be in high places anymore or if I just don't believe in the normal life anymore and I'm punishing myself to shitty, never cleaned motels that look like they could also be pimping out prostitutes to each room. After the shower, I dress in some of my best clothes that I packed, a black pencil skirt and a white button up that I tucked into the skirt letting my collar bones show, I put my hair up in a professional up-do and grabbed the brown leather jacket that kept me warm in the cold weather. The only new things I needed were shoes and I ended up going to one of the many stores at Toledo's main street and just as the store was opening managed to grab a pair of classy black heels. The coroner's office would no doubt be open now and I just needed to complete the facade with a small pen and notebook. Instead of putting in my contacts this morning I left my glasses on, the blood shotness of my eyes were slightly hidden by the glass.

As I parked Theo in the parking lot of the office I see a black 67' impala sitting across the street. The license plates reading Kansas. I hold my breath, there is no possible way that I would find the boys in the first place I stopped. As I put on the heels from inside my car I saw two tall men walking out of the hospital, the stairs looked old and white, One of the men was no doubt, Sam Winchester, I quickly walked up to the boys ready to walk right up to the evil son of a bitch that murdered my sister and start beating the living hell out of the tall man. But the man next to the puppy dog man was intimidating, he was tall and wore a dark brown leather jacket over his blue flannel, he stared me down like a piece of meat and I knew that I could barely take down one of the two Winchester's and if this was Dean there would be no way in hell I would be able to take down either of them. As I walked closer to them and as they passed me I tried to identify every possible feature so I would be able to know who they were the next time I saw them. As I went up the stairs and they walked down I paid careful attention to which car they got into, and not at all to my surprise I see they get in the Impala with the Kansas license plates, I make careful note of those as well. KAZ-2Y5. God, that won't be hard to forget.

As I get inside the hospital building I walk quickly down to the coroner's office and although I hate wearing heels I like the way they make the clicking noise on the tile floor. The office does look like its open but I can't imagine that the sleazeball looking nurse that sits at the desk seemingly counting cash is the doctor I'm looking for. I tap on the door,

"I'm sorry are you Dr. Feiklowicz? I'm doing an article for the paper about death and I was wondering if I could get some details." I say smiling, I see him rush to put some bills in his pocket, I put it together in my mind and guess that it was the boys that gave the money to him. Why the hell would they pay to see their own murder victim, what kind of sickos are these freaks?

"I'm sorry, he won't be back for an hour, is there something I could help you with?" He says smirking. I can feel him looking me up and down and I can feel my inner head just retching at even the thought. "Oh, that's too bad, is there any way that I could see the body on my own maybe, I just am going to be taking notes." I hum out,

"I'm sorry I will have to ask for some identification before I can let you in, you said you were with the press?" I curse myself, I smile and nod,

"Of course, let me just get out my-- Oh, shoot I think I left my key card at the office, can I just give you my ID?" I ask falsely reaching for the key card that I did not own.

"Well-- I really do nee--" I smile and begin to take off my jacket leaving me in my skirt and blouse that although classy, seems to work on the idiot in front of me, I hold it in my hand arms crossed and stare innocently at him.

"Please, I really need to get some notes, I have to get these back before my boss gets back, he is so mean to me and I might lose my job," I say making myself tear up, I guess playing Ophelia in middle school paid off well.

"Well, I guess. Can I see your ID?" I hand it to him, he takes it and I see him try and make an effort to brush my hand with his own the action almost makes me sick to my stomach.

"Hope Moore, that's a real’ pretty name. A pretty name for a pretty girl," He says trying to woo me with his horrible pick up line.

"Actually I go by Moore." I let my sickly sweet facade drop that time letting him know that I do not want him to call me that again.

"Yeah, sure."

He leads me back into the room and he pulls the sheet off, after seeing my sister I don't think I will be so upset with dead bodies anymore. I ask him about the death and it's said that something bizarre happened that his eyes burst inside his skull, the creep nurse said that there has never been something like that to happen during a stoke. I thank him for his time and he seems to be wanting to ask me something but I rush out of the morgue and get back to finding the Winchester boys.

 I drive around town hoping to see the same black car and when I finally find it I notice that there are many other cars parked outside the house as well.

I grimace, funerals suck.

[sprinklesandsugarcubes]

Once Upon A Dream (Part Two)

Fandom: Riverdale Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader/OC Rating: NSFW, Mature Warnings (Part Specific): Language/Cursing, Adult Themes/Situations, Foreplay, Kissing, etc. Format: Part Two of Three

Note: This part is mainly all from Sweet Pea’s POV. I hope that I did him justice! I’m excited for this lead up into the third part! Enjoy! XoXo!

His lips are pressed into a scowl, the line of them tight and firm as he glares down at his boots, scuffing them idly against the pavement.

Those around him were talking loudly, creating a dull uproar as they laughed and snuck swallows from multiple flasks that had been hidden within the dark inner pockets of leather jackets, purposefully ignoring the disapproving glares aimed their way from time to time. His glare only deepened as football players, grouped in uniforms of black and red alongside blue and gold, began to pour back out onto the football field that had been lit up for the Friday night game. It was the season opener, one of two showdown games between the Northside of Riverdale and the Southside, bound to end in more than one bloody nose and black eye.

He hadn’t wanted to come.

The reason why stood across fifty or so yards of green turf, dressed in nothing but a short little skirt and a top that teased a peek at her navel. The cheerleading uniform was mostly blue with hints of gold, and if his eyes strayed that way one more time, he might just scratch them out. Visions of what she would look like decked out in black and red filtered through his mind on repeat, torturing him in a way that left the black denim of his jeans much too tight across the front, and his heart aching in a way he still refused to fully address.

Sweet Pea groaned beneath his breath, fighting against the urge to smash his fist into the shiny metal of the bleachers and peel out of the parking lot.

“Yo,” A low voice, tinged with amusement muttered in his ear, just as a fist made contact with his shoulder, jostling him in place. “You’ve got an admirer, one o’clock. She hasn’t even blinked in five minutes.”

His head snapped up before he gave himself permission.

She stood there, wringing her hands together around sparkling pompoms, her lip caught tightly between her teeth. The organ in his chest jumped, thudding rapidly against his rib-cage as his eyes remained glued to the sight. Her lip would be plump, flushed a pink that bordered red after she had worried with it, he knew. He also knew, from long afternoons spent in nothing but their skin with hours upon hours of observation, that she hadn’t been getting much sleep. That she didn’t seem to be doing any better than he was.

And despite how fucked up it was, he found himself thankful.

June

He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.

She had just looked so small and broken, kneeling there at his feet, her hair hanging in limp locks and her clothes plastered to her skin; without even pausing to consider the possible consequences, he had thrust his hand down, palm open and waiting. He had regretted it almost instantly, berating himself over the fact that he had even thought about helping the unnamed beauty. And she was, a beauty that is, even he couldn’t deny that.

The rain had made her hair hang down even further, falling in strands that held just the slightest of curl to them, the color of which was lighter than his own, he could tell. Her skin appeared flawless, just a smattering of freckles placed randomly across the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes were dark, but clear. Perhaps a deep blue or green, maybe even a lighter hue of brown, the shadows made it hard to tell.

Sweet Pea ripped his eyes from where they had gotten caught within her gaze, his entire body stiffening, his jaw tight as his fingers itched to curl inward. He didn’t know what he was thinking, holding his hand out. She was a Northsider girl, there wasn’t a chance in hell that she would just-

Her smaller hand slipped seamlessly into his, fingers curling around his palm, squeezing with a light pressure that made something stir within his chest.

Dark eyes snapped to her, finding the way her bottom lip was caught between teeth, stilling the smile that threatened to curl them upward as she peered back at him. There was something in her eyes, a trust that part of him wanted to admonish her for, but the sudden flutter in his stomach made him swallow the words as he gave a gentle tug, just enough to help lift her from her cramped position on the pavement.

He hadn’t expected her to crash into his chest, though he really should have.

There was no telling exactly how long she had been sitting there, huddled in the same position, and he had little doubt that her muscles had tired of being locked into place for such an extended period of time.

He caught her before she could tumble back to the ground, his free arm slipping around her waist and pulling her until she was pressed against his chest, his hand cupping her hip tightly to reassure himself that she wouldn’t collapse. Their clasped hands had rearranged themselves, fingers lacing together in the sudden flurry of motion, palms pressed tightly together as he kept her hand anchored against his chest for further balance. He could feel her breath through the damp material that served as his shirt, little puffs of air that burrowed through the threads and caressed his skin in a way that made his grip tighten. Peering down at her, he took notice of their height differences, an amused smirk curling his lips upward when her nose bumped lightly against his sternum.

“Let’s get you out of here, Princess.”

He was back to glaring as he peered down into a laundry basket, eyeing the perfectly folded and freshly laundered clothes his aunt had no doubt completed earlier that morning. He’d bet every dollar in his wallet that she had stocked the refrigerator with tubberware as well, each one full of home cooked goodness that he would devour over the next three or four days. It was quiet in the trailer that he called his own, and he could feel his nerves frayed with every moment that went by as she didn’t speak, choosing instead to pass delicate fingers over the spines of books he had wedged into a short bookcase.

“Want to tell me why you were sitting on the side of the road, looking like a lost little girl in the rain?”

Sweet Pea’s words were gruff, spoken in a tone that sounded like it was crossed between curiosity and his own annoyance over the desire to know, not only why she had been traipsing around the Southside looking like Northside bait, but what she might be thinking as she allowed her eyes to drift over the home he had made. Still, his hands dug through the clothes, the smell of perfumed detergent wafting toward them. He watched from the corner of his eye as she bit her lip, the sight causing him to shift from one foot to the other, dragging his eyes away from her pink lips that were far more tempting than he’d like to admit, to the shirt in his hands that would no doubt swallow her whole.

“I saw my boyfriend…” The words escaped without her permission, he could tell by the grimace on her face. “With someone else.”

Before he could help it, a snort escaped him and his eyes rolled heavenward. Of course it had something to do with some piece of shit, marshmallow Northsider.

Why had he even thought something different?

Sighing deeply, he yanked the worn (but extremely comfortable) shirt from the bottom of the pile. “That’s just-“

“It was our music teacher.”

He choked on air, his head whipping to the side, peering down at her with wide eyes. Her own eyes had flown open in surprise, as if she couldn’t believe she had divulged such a secret, and with so little known about one or the other.

Sweet Pea’s eyes darted around her face, taking in the lingering hint of betrayal, but finding himself caught up in the flames that were slowly growing brighter in her eyes. Anger. It was an emotion he knew, all too well. He had a hundred different reasons to be angry, but he could tell this was her first brush with true anger. The kind that burned, that fed a fiery fury that had flickered to life within her gut.

It made his own blood thrum excitedly in his veins, heating up to match the look in her eyes as his trademark smirk curled upon his lips.

He dropped the shirt in his hands just as she rushed him.  

Once again, he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. But his fingers threaded through her hair with one hand, tipping her head back just as she arched up onto her toes, desperately meeting his lips with her own as he dipped down to press them against hers.

His other hand palmed her side, large enough to curl over her rib-cage, stroking its way down to settle into the soft dip between waist and hip. She gasped breathily against his lips, feeding his pride, and his lips twitched into another smirk before he parted them, daring to pull her plump, bottom lip between his. He bit down, just enough pressure to make it swell, and to feel her shudder in his arms. He tasted her; the lingering sweetness from a sports drink, something that reminded him of ripe berries, and the taste of fresh rain upon her lips. He groaned roughly when she let out a whimper, his fingers tightening in her hair and on her hip, the urge to lift her so that he could feast upon her lips and taste them thoroughly nearly overwhelming him.

When the need for air became too much, he pulled away reluctantly, a bolt of satisfaction racing along his spine as she whined in protest, urging her body closer to his, diminishing the space between them to something that could only be described as paper-thin. Her fingers gripped at his shoulder and just above his elbow, the pressure almost enough to bite through the leather that covered his body. Her head tipped upward to follow his as he pulled back only far enough so that they might breathe, giving her lip a teasing tug as he did so.

He was already watching her when her eyes fluttered open, pupils blown wide enough that the inky black of them ate away at the color, half-lidded and glazed over in pleasure. The surge of masculine pride only grew when she blinked, lips swollen and bright pink as she searched for words that had seemingly escaped her coherency.

“I…we…I don’t even know your name,” She breathed, the sound soft in his ears.

His lips tipped upward, the first genuine smile he had shown her all evening. “Sweet Pea.”

She grinned back at him, her lips curving around the name as she tried it out.

The sound of his name on her lips made something warm inside of him, and seconds later his lips were covering hers once more. He didn’t bother with bending down this time; instead he cupped the backs of her thighs with his big hands, giving her little warning before lifting her up in the air. She squealed against his lips, panting slightly as he chuckled, the sound tapering off into a growl when she wrapped her legs around his waist tightly, the new position leaving them each at the optimal level to grind into one another.

He shouldered his way through his bedroom doorway, lifting his leg to kick the door closed after them, before tossing her down on the mattress.

The fresh sheets billowed underneath her, and giggles fell prettily from her lips, though they choked off into a quiet moan as he shrugged the slick leather from his shoulders, the damp material of his shirt quickly following. Her eyes widened as they took him in; sweeping down over the planes of his chest, the lines of muscle along his stomach, the trim lines that cut across his abdomen and led to his hips, the dark trail of hair that dipped down into his jeans. The spark in his blood transformed into an inferno, heat rippling through his veins, making him stand tall and strong near the foot of the bed, even as he reached forward, long fingers wrapping in a gentle but firm grip around her ankles. Slowly, she reached down, never breaking eye contact with him as she reached for his hands, guiding them to the waist band of her skintight running shorts.

He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.

It was only after, when he was too far gone and he was addicted to much more than her taste, when there was this feeling in his chest, any time that he looked at her, when her smile blinded him like sunshine on a clear, cloudless day; that he would realize something very important.

He never even hesitated.

SweetPeasPodSquad Taglist @half-and-halfxx @tofarawaytobreathe @serpent-princess @mi-ghostaa @sweetpeas-serpant @adventuresofchlocaine @bellamysgirl @obsessedqueenie @batmanslittlelover @becca-in-the-tardis @the-fifth-season @dramionelove190 @southsidepea @cinn-rawr @randomnesss-of-fandomness @kneesheee @bby-simone @im-not-perfect-im-proud @king-sweetpea @southsidenoodle @jxhn-mxrphy @kytty27 @itsashleydallas @podsquads-sinns @sweet-peas-serpents @riverdale-writer-sins @sweetpeasnecktattoo @poolpartyingwithjaws @psychoticprincex @1space-bitch1 @a-pimpnameslickback @daddisaddy @luna513 @squishyethan @nizza12-blog @typo-trash @ophelia-jadestone @jihyunncho @inspiredbynewt @penny4thoughts @king-sweetpea @bloomingapril @jl-loves-daisies @miss-mia-rae @johnmurphys-sass @lucystivinsky1315 @rebeccasinner-milk @sweetpealoveshisprincess @xforgetmen0tx @bitch-shut-tf-up @southsideslump @becca-in-the-southside @knoxwashere @mermaids-n-stuff @i-hate-these-people @skumar402 @tonitopazwrites @minelskede @queeeeennbb @cece-daughter-of-pitch-black @shay-del-rey @fandomnerdxox @nyckiss @bekah-mlkaelson @randomnesss-of-fandomness @ultra5sosme @southsidepea @my-sweet-pea @always-klaus-forever-kol @totalelasticity @itsdanajane16 @im-not-perfect-im-proud @bby-simone

*Some of your tags aren’t working! Let me know if they get fixed! I’ll keep you on there until then. Sorry if any of you are mention twice! Still getting this taglist thing organized!