#every now and then i get the urge to disappear but you all esp some of you uwu make me wanna stay 🩵

[kitten4sannie]

when i decided to post my silly stories i truly never thought i would make it to an insane milestone like this ;; i just wanted to say thank you all so so much for the love and support i’ve received all this time. it means everything to me <33333 also happy valentine’s day lovelies !! mwah mwah 💞💞💞

[barzzal]

when the ball drops

summary: out of all the times you wanted to bail, for once you were certainly glad you didn’t ditch this year’s new year’s eve party.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: language, parties, drinking, flirty banters + a smitten mat (set in a pandemic free au)

↳ genre: fluff, meeting a total stranger, early 2000’s romantic/comedy typa thing (what i think at least)

↳ length: imagine; 5.9k

↳ masterlist: the barn

note: this is an entry for @hockeynetwork’s winter fic exchange and i was matched as @bqstqnbruin’s secret santa! i genuinely hope you get to enjoy this, boo!! i wanna thank a few mutuals, @tkachukme @calgarycanuck @pizzarandomness (esp @thirteenisles !!) for helping me out so i could get thru with writing this imagine! you guys are so nice i truly appreciate all of you. happy holidays & happy new year, everyone! 💕 (gif used: mine)

Every year you swear to yourself that you would spend the New Year’s at home, eating a peaceful dinner by yourself and maybe enjoy a good bottle of wine whilst you spend the whole night watching The Holiday. But just like all the other years you have spent alone since you’ve moved to New York, you end up breaking that same promise, pretty much with the help of your two best friends Emma and Katie.

Now, instead of being curled up in your living room, wearing your favourite knitted sweater and away from all the New Year chaos happening all at once in the very best place to celebrate such a festive occasion, here you are, getting your second glass of vodka tonic as you wait for the goddamn ball to drop.

The local bar has always been crowded especially during this time of the year. You and your friends already made it an annual thing which is probably the reason why despite the yearning you have for the idea of spending it all alone, you couldn’t find enough courage to ditch them and disappear even just for one night. 

“Where are the girls?” Gavin, the owner of the bar whom you’ve already befriended due to the amount of times you and the girls spent helping him close up was busily wiping the counter when you sat in your usual seat.

You casually motioned your hand to where you left Emma and Katie, dancing with men they’d most certainly end up kissing once the clock strikes twelve. 

“Alone again? You’ve got to blow off some steam, y/n.” He greets you with a concerned look exuding from his virile exterior. You idly shake your head, giving him a tight smile to reassure him that you were doing okay. 

“It’s not that big a deal.” is the usual thing you say to people when your being ‘alone’ on the holidays becomes in question. “Besides, I’m a big girl, Gavs.” You proudly announce, leaning against the bar with your palm resting underneath your chin. 

“I know you’re a ‘big girl’.” He rolls his eyes before his gaze trails off to your friends and then landing onto a couple of young lads from across the room. “I’m just saying, loosen up. Meet people. It feels nice to have someone holding you close at night so don’t be too hard on yourself.” 

A snort bursts from you as soon as you hear the words leave Gavin’s mouth. Who would have known a guy as tough-looking as him would be too much of a softy underneath? 

“What?” He holds his guard as he continues making your drink. The liquid swirling around a few ice cubes and a shot of liquor. 

“Nothing, nothing. I just– I didn’t think you were one of those people.” You say, clearing your voice once you’ve finally gathered yourself. “You know, the sappy romantics.”

Gavin looks at you, giving you an ‘Oh, please.’ look. “No, ‘cause that’s where you’re wrong.” He protests. “I’ve always been this soft, “sappy romantic” kinda guy. You just choose to see me the way you see me; a typical macho man who hands you good drinks.” He pauses, finishing off with the last touches of your drink. “But you know what? That’s fine. ‘Cause that’s how I know you’re just like me.” He then slides the cold drink towards you. 

“What do you mean?” You were intrigued to be fair. You already had your head tilted to the side trying to piece something that could justify what he just said.

“That.” He looks at you, index finger circling before your eyes to make his argument even more compelling. “You act like a strong independent woman, which by the way you still are,– but you have to admit that you do want someone who’s gonna want to spend his New Year’s watching that dumb old movie of yours.” He says with a grin before he pours another customer a shot of tequila. 

You were sure you wanted to just shrug it off, but somehow, you can’t help but think of how his words hit you in the subtlest way. Each word bearing an insane amount of possibilities of him being right all along. 

But what’d he know anyway? It’s not like he knew you better than anyone else. Maybe it’s just his way with words. Or maybe he’s just that good. After all, that’s basically the reason why he’s running a goddamn bar, right?

𖥸

It wasn’t Mat’s first time spending New Year’s away from his family but if he only had a choice, he’d certainly take the next plane with no question. However, given how the team’s fight for the Cup is going stronger than the last season, he couldn’t bring himself to risk going away and missing out on his usual routines. So, for the past couple of weeks he’d let himself be stuck with Beauvillier throughout the holidays. 

Now, for the sake of festivities, the two decided it’d be best to come out to the city and have fun welcoming the New Year along with some good friends that were surprisingly available at the last minute. That being said, the local bar was already the third one they’ve gone to having started the drinking binge earlier than intended. 

“Happy New Fucking Year, Motherfuckers!” The loudest and perhaps, the drunkest man cheered at the center of the dance floor, holding up his drink carelessly as he danced to the mind numbing EDM coming off from the DJ’s booth. 

“Way to get wasted. Am I right?” Dan says as he stands to gather everyone and clink their beer mugs for the nth time. 

“Somebody’s definitely gonna miss the ball drop.” Tito snides, referring to the drunken man cheering tirelessly. Mat shakes his head and idly laughs. Their glasses meet halfway, causing some of the beer to spill over the table. The loud music and cheers echoed in Mathew’s ears, finding the whole scene a little too overwhelming despite how he liked to loosen up with bottomless drinks coming his way. 

Somehow, he was thankful that he needed a second to breathe which only meant having to take his eyes off of the same guys he hangs with on and off the ice. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see someone so beautiful yet seemingly out of place when his gaze landed onto that one girl sitting by the bar all by herself at what seems to be the loudest pub in the city. 

“God, she’s pretty.” The words unknowingly slip off his tongue, making him realize he’s announced his thoughts out for the group just enough to make their brows quirk at the now out-of-reach Mathew.

“What?” Anthony leans closer to him so as to give himself a view of what Mat had his eyes peeled for. 

“That girl by the bar, she’s— she’s really pretty.” Mathew says, completely sure that he has never said anything true in his life. Much to his surprise, the boys gathered around and turned their heads towards the girl sitting by the bar. 

“So? Go and talk to her, man.” Anthony casually proposes with a nudge, urging him to go after her. 

Mathew immediately lets out a foolish scoff and chooses to gulp a large amount of liquor from his mug. 

“Yeah, just go for it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tyson chides, looking at the girl who has utterly made their night a little more interesting. That being said, being stuck with the three biggest blokes wasn’t that too interesting to begin with. 

“Oh, worst thing? She could hear me!” Mat runs a hand through his hair, incapable of taking his eyes off of her even just for a second. 

“You know if you don’t, I will.” Tyson puts his beer down and acts as if to make the move Mathew was too hesitant to do himself in order to boost his mate.

“Fuck off. Fine. Hold my beer.” Mat rolls his eyes and shoves Tyson his mug before gathering himself by straightening creases off his suit along with a few sharp breaths to ease out the nervousness he’d been feeling.

You watch the teeny tiny leaf of mint swirl around the whirl of liquor you’ve successfully made, ignoring all the background noise, still evidently fixated on the words Gavin has left you with earlier. Has it really been that long since you allowed yourself to be fully vulnerable around someone? 

A sad smile escapes your lips, one that made the man that was now towering all over you wonder what could have possibly caused such melancholy on the most beautiful girl he has seen all throughout the city. That’s a rather heavy way to put it but that doesn't mean he was lying. He did find you really pretty. Maybe even a little too much and too out of his league.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts.

“Hi.” He says, gray eyes illuminated by the strobe lights hitting your direction. You give him a tight smile, acknowledging his presence and frankly even the boldness he had to strike up a conversation. 

“I just wanted to ask if what you’re drinking is any good.” Mat subconsciously reprimands himself for coming up with what is yet to be the lamest thing he’s ever told a girl. 

Great. Now, you’re asking her if a vodka tonic is good? As if it could get any better? He thinks to himself. So, to compensate and reduce further damage, he plays it off by laughing quite sheepishly as he absent-mindedly massages his nape.

Noticing what the man was doing, you let out a shy laugh too, biting your lower lip as you find his foolish attempt of hitting on you quite adorable.

“Wow. You’re really good at this.” You tease, now giving away a playful smile, poking at his middle school pick up line. 

Mathew chuckles. His doe eyes shy and alienated by the confidence he certainly knew he had not until a few seconds ago when he met yours. “I swear I’m better than this.” He tries again, this time earning himself a soft giggle from you.

Atta boy, Mat. 

“I’m Mat by the way. Mathew Barzal.” 

He reaches out his hand which you gladly took. It was calloused and rough around the edges whilst Mat found yours completely fitting in his. Your eyes meet halfway as you both shook each other’s hands. Fingers lingering quite longer than it should be.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t had a tonic before?” You ask him, hands now all to yourselves. Mat leans against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, unable to suppress the embarrassment now dawning on him upon remembering his little set back.

“I’m sort of a vodka tonic connoisseur.” He kids in an attempt to redeem himself. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” 

You look at him, shaking your head at how unbelievably gorgeous this man is. “Fine. It wasn’t. I’ll give you that.” 

“So,” He takes a deep breath before taking one of the empty seats beside you. “I– I can’t help but wonder, I mean– if it’s not too forward of me, how come you’re drinking alone on New Year’s?” 

You take a sip off of your drink and faintly shake your head, dismissing his query. “Hmm. Actually, no.” 

Mathew muttered an “oh.” at the thought of hearing what he thinks you’re about to say next. To his surprise, and frankly feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, you motion towards your best girls, Emma and Katie who were now obviously way too fond of the guys they just met.

“See those girls?” 

Mathew nods, the answer to his question now becoming much clearer and put together. An answer that absolutely went along with his cards well. 

“Those are two of the most important persons in my life going at it at a New Year’s Eve Party.” 

“Would it be wrong to ask why aren’t you ‘going at it’ like how they’re doing it now?”

Is he always this formal? You think, lips curving to a grin. 

“What?” He asks when he sees the expression (he can’t quite put a finger on) on your face.

“Nah. I’m all good. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just–” You pause. Unsure of whether telling him the truth would do your case any better. What’s there to lose anyway? He’s just some guy you’re bound to meet at the bar. It’s not like you didn’t anticipate a scenario like this from happening, right?

“Just take me as someone who isn’t really fond of big parties,” he then cuts you off and finishes your sentence, “But still go anyways.” 

“Exactly.” 

Gavin pops in for a bit, handing Mathew a bottle of beer he was certain of not ordering. He looks at him puzzled. A silent question that Gavin answered with a wink before getting back to tending to his alcohol induced customers. 

Apparently, it’s on the house.

“How come you’re here chatting with me when your friends are all the way there?” You motion towards a curly haired man and the other boys across the room. One was even smiling at you but you just opted on giving him a nod before turning your head back towards Mathew.

“Well, I didn’t like the idea of having you celebrate the New Year’s alone.” He honestly says. But since you were the kind of person who wasn’t the best at taking any type of compliment nor flirty exchanges like a normal person would, you roll your eyes and be the blunt person you were always known for. “Oh. I thought you saw a girl sitting alone at the bar and saw that as an opening.” 

To be fair, Mat wasn’t really intimidated by your remark. In fact, he actually liked how straight forward you were with him. You didn’t look at him the way he’s gotten used to whenever he comes up and introduces himself to other girls; something that only made him more interested in you. He can’t help but want to know what exactly is going on in your mind. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just the one where he’d rather spend the New Year’s getting to know a total stranger than getting insanely pissed with the same men he’s spent most of his days with.

“That too.” He admits, taking a sip off his beer without breaking his eyes off you. 

There was a sheer silence for a moment. The kind that Mat knew was much deafening than the booming sound of the usual dreadful New Year’s Eve Party. “So tell me,” Mat regains himself, catching your attention once again. “What would you rather be doing tonight? You know, if you hadn’t had to come out here.” 

He watches your lips quirk thinking about what it was that you actually wanted to do tonight. Then again, you only had one thing in mind. 

“I kinda wanted to spend it alone for the past three years.” 

“That long? How come?”

“Well, you know, for some peace and quiet. Maybe watch a movie or two.”

Like what he has been doing since the moment he’d gone to talk to you, he watches you run your fingers around the rim of your cold drink. Evidently immersed in your own thoughts from trying to piece out the real reason behind your grave wanting to spend the occasion alone. 

Turning the tables, you ask the same question back, “What about you? I mean, other than getting shit faced, what would you rather be doing?” 

Mathew takes a deep breath trying to suppress the longing he’s felt for the past few weeks. He just misses his family so much that he couldn’t help but wonder how they’re doing even if he’s constantly kept in touch with them hours before he’d gone out with the boys. 

“I’ll be with my folks. You know, all that usual family stuff.” He answers you shortly. 

You didn’t think much of what he’s told you so you just tell him the very thing that crossed your mind. “You know, it’s amazing how two people who didn’t even want to be here find each other just so they could bitch about not wanting to be here a little bit more.”

The two of you share a good laugh, utterly and undeniably enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t feel weird having to talk to a total stranger, let alone let them have bits and pieces of yourself that only enables them to put together an image of you that isn’t even as close to who you really are. Regardless of that notion, there was something about how Mathew connected with you, and how you connected with him. 

It was far from being the movie type of thing, but you have to admit, the remainder of the time you two have spent talking over a half empty bottle of beer and a glass of vodka tonic has definitely made the two of you feel this unexplainable wanting of having to learn more about each other. That being said, when all drinks were drunk till its last drop, Mathew couldn’t help himself from wanting to spend a bit more time with you. Maybe, even the whole night if you’d only let him. 

“D’you want to get out of here?” He shoots his shot as quickly as he could, afraid that losing even just a second would mean losing a night of spontaneity with you. 

You have long waited for a reason to miss the annual party. And if that meant having to wait three years just so you could stumble upon a tall and fairly handsome man that was going to save you from a dreadful evening, nothing would’ve felt as right as this if it weren’t for the push Mat had stored in his piercing eyes and mischievous grin. 

You didn’t have to give it much thought. After spending a whole hour exchanging little trivias of yourselves, Mat finally had it easy in making a riveting case. You sigh in defeat as you fish out a few cash from your purse and slide it into your tab. 

Excitement now exuding from Mathew, he bobs his brows up and down whilst he watches you roll your eyes once again for the hundredth time tonight. “I’m gonna hate you for this.” You tell him as you get off the bar stool.

Mat hurriedly signals Tito for his coat to which he was able to catch the moment he had tossed it towards his way. He then gets yours that was placed on the back of your seat before finally following you out towards the door.

“I highly doubt that.” 

𖥸

Mathew draped your coat over your shoulders, helping you to slip into it. You politely say your thanks and hold your purse close, your gloves gripping onto the leather as the two of you stroll the streets of New York, the winter breeze brushing on your cheeks with every stride you make. 

“So,” You begin, putting both of your hands inside your coat pockets. “Where are you taking me, Mat?” 

He tries to think for a second. The thought of not having a concrete plan for the night finally dawns on him. He clicks his tongue and breathes in the familiar scent of the city. Mathew looks around the block and spots the good old food truck he and the boys once tried when they were out for an away game with the Rangers. 

“How about New York’s finest burrito?” He points to where the truck was parked, clueless to how his sudden movement placed him inches closer to you. You didn’t notice it until you looked at him for his eyes were still pinned to where the truck was at. 

Mat’s eyes were pretty. That’s a known fact. But what you didn’t realize was how astonishing they are not until you got this close. You took in the sight sitting before you as fast as you could while he was still preoccupied like a five-year-old kid seeing an ice-cream truck pass by the neighborhood. Your eyes linger from his well structured brows, his unbelievably long lashes, down to the tip of his nose and his rosy cheeks before finally settling down to his cherry plump lips. All of which were more than enough to send butterflies in your stomach. 

“O-Okay.” You agree. Mathew takes you by the hand before you can even say a word. Thank the gods for letting you live in a city that seems to never stop the hustle to still have open food trucks good for a quick bite at this time of the night close into New Year’s.

“Hey, bud. Two sixes to go, please.” Mathew says politely once he knocks on the window. 

“You’ve got to try this, I swear.” He looks back at you with the same warm smile beaming on his face.

“Unless you want a proper meal? I mean, there’s a diner down the–” You immediately cut him off and take out your purse, offering to pay for it instead. “No! It’s fine, really. I’m a bit hungry myself.” 

After spending the whole time waiting for the wrapped snack, arguing on who would be paying, you let Mathew have this one for now even if you didn’t like others paying for what you can pay yourself.

You take a good look at your watch and see that you only have about an hour left till midnight. An idea pops in your head, making you gasp at the thought. Mathew looks at you with a half-eaten burrito in his hand, his brows all furrowed as if to ask a piece of your mind. 

“Come on, I know where we should go.” 

𖥸

Mathew never thought he’d found himself standing on a rooftop of a random building overlooking the Empire State during one of the coldest times in the city. The things that has only kept him sane was the girl who was still holding his hand, the city lights that have always left him in awe, and of course, the well heated rooftop.

There have been a few exchanges that are quite notable over the time you’ve spent with Mathew. He’s told you about the usual night outs he and the boys have for leisure, the family he had back in Coquitlam, how much he misses his mom and his sister, and how much love he has for hockey that he ended up doing the thing he loved most for a career. 

Him, on the one hand, pretty much learned the same stuff about you. Well, almost, for he has yet to ask you the one thing that has been bugging him off all night. 

You were telling him how this was your safe haven in the city and how much you loved going here every time you felt like needing to take a deep breath and step back from the world when he asked you a simple question. One that’s absolutely left you surprised (and a little bit impressed) that he still even remembered it at this point. 

“What’s the movie about? You know, the one you’ve been wanting to see tonight.” He asks, both of his hands inside his pockets to keep warm. 

The two of you sat on the bench facing thousands of lights illuminating the whole city. You look at him for a second, biting your lip as you contest with yourself, the thought of Mat being the kind of douché that would shit around women and their romantic comedy films comes rushing to you like a cold December breeze. 

“Alright, why do you want to know?” You pass the ball back to his court. To which Mat shortly answers with a level-headed sigh. “I kinda get the feeling it has something to do with the three-year thing.” 

“You’re nosy.” You kiddingly say, earning a chuckle from him. 

“You’ve spent the whole night walking with me and I can barely even feel my legs anymore, y/n. Trust me, between you and me, you know you’re the nosy one.” The two of you share a small laugh, your voices are the only sound that can be heard besides the sleepless city acting as a white noise to you and Mathew’s little bubble. 

“Fine. And you’re a fucking athlete, so don’t even start.” 

You playfully give him a nudge on the shoulder when he starts mimicking what you say. Mat stops immediately and looks at you with the same doe eyes glinting under the security lights that the rooftop had. He then patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, breathing in all of New York as he lets himself drown in your presence. 

You didn’t know how but there was this unspeakable comfort you feel around Mat. Sure, he was just a total stranger you’ve met a few hours ago, but no one, not even the guy who dumped you after your five-date rule, was able to connect with you at the same level as Mathew did. 

“It’s not that I want to see it so bad. I’ve watched it for like– a reasonable amount before it became my comfort movie. Plus, it’s literally called The Holiday. Why wouldn’t you want to see it during the holiday?”

You tell him a bit more of how you’ve come into liking it, stalling him from the real reason why you wanted to celebrate the New Year’s alone. But you know, that even after all the circles you’re willing to go through just to keep Mat at bay, you’re bound to lose all your strings and resort to telling him in the end. You just hope you wouldn’t be making the same mistake you’ve made three years ago. 

You told Mathew about your on and off childhood sweetheart Claude who has always kept you high and dry throughout the years of being together. (That is if you were in fact together.) He was the constant reminder that you will never be the kind of person someone would want to stick around with.

You and him go a long way. You both ended up going to the same university because he just had to have you around and that he couldn’t afford not being with you even just for a second. He said that he couldn’t take the thought of having to see you only on the holidays so as the dumb kid you once were, your feet followed his everywhere he’d gone.

That cycle went on and on until you finally had the courage to leave everything behind and move to New York. Months as a new kid in the city, you were scared, of course. You spent your days hanging around your apartment, doing all sorts of crap you can even think of just so you wouldn’t have to leave your flat. Although, meeting Emma and Katie was the biggest push you needed to finally let yourself let loose. Long story short, at the first New Year’s Eve Party you’ve ever gone to after moving in the city, the person you least expected to see was the very first one to come out of Gavin's bar. Claude.

Just like what a normal person would do, the two of you sat down and caught up. Pretty much the same thing you’ve gone with Mathew. Although only a lot less chit chat and a lot more kissing.

Claude told you his real intentions. He said that he wanted to start something with you for real. Of course, you had let him but you have made the biggest mistake of telling him about your five-date rule.

Lo and behold, Claude did stick around for the fifth date. That being said, he had stayed only for the fifth date. You saw him sneaking out of your flat so early in the morning, leaving you nothing but a voicemail that said his foolish reasons and insincere apologies. Since then, after a lot of major hook ups here and there, you’ve never let yourself become as vulnerable and stupid as you once were with the biggest douche you’ve ever met.

“It’s crazy, I know. You can laugh about it.” You say when Mat hasn’t spoken for a few seconds. 

He takes a glance at you, a tight smile on his face. “I don’t think it’s crazy. That man is crazy. And also, a big prick. Classic dick move.” He tells you before he turns his eyes back to the city.

“Well, yeah. That’s me. That’s the holiday story.” 

“A crappy one, of course.” You add. 

Mat shakes his head no. He didn’t know why exactly but all he wanted to do at that moment, a few seconds before New Year’s, was to give you something,– even just a memory you could look back on. That that story isn’t going to be the one you’d be remembering for the next holidays. He wanted his to be something that’ll make your three-year-old crappy story long gone and forgotten. That his version would be the one that’s stuck.

“Definitely not this one.” 

As the clock strikes twelve, cheers erupted throughout New York along with fireworks shooting into the city’s midnight sky. The first thing you see upon looking back were the same kind eyes of the man whom you have randomly met at the party you dreaded most. Only this time, drowning you little by little as it becomes iridescent under the thousands of lights covering New York City.

You were frozen to your seat as Mat’s face inch closer to yours. You feel his breath against your cold skin as if it was lulling you to sleep. His hands find its way to your face, cupping both of your cheeks rather gently as he finally paints a new memory you’d be carrying for the rest of your holidays. 

“Happy New Year.” He greets you, almost like a faint whisper whilst the two of you gasp for breath. You blink a few times just to process what had just happened and digest how unbelievably good that kiss was. 

Mathew’s hands were still on your cheeks. You held them close so he’d know you weren’t ready to let go. You take a deep breath, gathering enough courage to ask him an unusual way of greeting someone a Happy New Year. 

“Will you walk me to my car?”

𖥸

You have both of your hands tucked inside your coat pockets as you walked the street leading to where you left your car. Mat was just telling you about the game happening next Thursday against the Bruins and how it would mean a lot to him if you’d come and see him play. 

“To be fair, the Bruins are good.” You commented, a playful smirk plastered on your face rather teasingly. 

Mathew lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes, chuckling at the thought of you dissing on his team the moment you had the chance. “Hey, both teams are good.” 

“It’s just the matter of who’s better.” You finish his sentence, yet again working your way with a clever remark. Mat hums, not necessarily agreeing with your sentiment. 

“So will you come?” He asks again just so he could hear you say yes. You take a deep breath, not letting yourself think too much of the said invitation. If you’re going, you’re going as a friend. Actually, you weren’t even sure if you could even call yourself such a label.

You nod your head yes to which had become the reason of Mathew’s glee. The two of you walked side by side in peace, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence. 

Once the rush of excitement about you coming to one of his games starts to wear down, Mathew begins to feel the weight of walking befall on him as it grows quicker with each step he takes. With his brows meeting halfway, he looks at you, eyes evident with confusion. 

“Where did you park your car exactly? I feel like we’re walking straight to Long Island.” He chortles, scratching his temple quite adorably.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him. Mathew’s physique towering over yours. “I uh– I took a cab to the party. My car’s actually parked outside my apartment.” You admit with a shy laugh.

Mat’s mouth went agape upon hearing you confess; awkward silence envelops the two of you with every second spent not talking to one another. Not long after, he decides to break the ice, undeniably impressed at how he’d never seen it coming.

Clever. He thinks, incapable of stopping his gut from swirling. His smile widens when he sees you looking at him; unfazed and perhaps, enamoured. 

𖥸

Mat did walk you to your car. The two of you exchange your thank you’s; utterly grateful for what has to be the best New Year’s you had in years. 

You wanted to ask him for one last cup of coffee because the last thing you wanted him to do was leave. But after all the things you’ve gone through with the man within such a short amount of time (and frankly, even a tedious walk) you still failed to muster enough courage to stop him from doing so. 

Once you see him get in the lone cab that miraculously passed by your neighborhood at such an ungodly hour, you close the door behind and head straight to your flat. 

You get home to the sight of your weighted blanket spread over your couch along with a couple of pillows that seems to be the best place to bury yourself in after a tiresome night out. Things were just as they were left hours ago; prepped for a much awaited movie night. As planned, you quickly get out of your winter clothes, head for a quick shower, before finally slipping into some comfortable nightwear.

You were just finishing up putting the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Chardonnay on top of the coffee table when a buzz coming from the intercom catches your attention.

Once your hands were free, you quickly made your way towards the box, a bit irked at the thought of Katie and Emma ruining your long-overdue New Year agenda upon remembering how she’d told you to let her in the building just in case Katie gets a little too overboard. 

“Emma, I’m about to watch Jude Fucking Law. Just come up!” You hurriedly say, turning your head back to the screen which already had the movie on pause. 

However, instead of Katie’s whiny and drunken voice, what you heard was the same familiar chuckle that had been cruising your mind all night. 

“You know, I don’t think I mentioned that I haven’t watched The Holiday. Is Jude Fucking Law any good?” He asks. A mental image of how his eyes crinkle when he laughs comes to mind upon hearing his voice. 

Once again, pretty much like how you’ve spent the whole evening with Mathew, a wide smile lets loose as you press the black button. “Come on up.”

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 24)

Hello, friends. The story is rapidly approaching an end. I imagine I'll only be posting for another couple weeks (maybe three at the most) before this essay draws to a close.

Last night we wrapped up the Time Travel Arc. Now we return to the larger parent arc, the Escape Arc. Mikan has made up her mind to escape the school with her mother, and although this breaks Natsume's heart, he'll do all he can to get her out safely without at all complaining. If she's leaving for good, then the only thing that matters to him for the next little bit is keeping her as safe as possible. After that, he's resigned himself to a lonely and imminent death... And then Mikan has an epiphany.

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four

They’re finally all back in the present. The room they left is now empty, and they wonder what happened. Undoubtedly the situation is more pressing than ever.

Mikan is concerned about everyone’s safety, but Natsume makes it clear that the priority is making sure she can make it out of the academy with her mother. If she’s going to leave, then he will do everything he can to make sure the process goes as smoothly and safely for her as possible. Her concerns about everyone else have no place here when everyone’s dreams and futures are threatened by the ESP if he ever gets his hands on Mikan’s alices. Besides, his happiness and safety always come dead last to him. He’d act and speak this way, even if it was only Mikan’s well-being on the line.

He will protect her no matter what happens, he says. That’s his priority. This is no different than the way he’s been living for the last year or so.

Yeah, there's the whole thing with the school and protecting the student body and stopping the ESP but Mikan is his priority always.

Everyone else agrees, and Mikan is outvoted. She comes first now.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven

Mikan and her friends run into a horde of students, either controlled by Luna’s alice or afraid that they’ll end up being controlled or punished. They all move to attack Mikan in particular, to capture her because maybe they’ll even be rewarded for it.

This is a mistake, because Natsume will not allow anything to happen to her. He uses his alice to fend off the students, but his fire takes a strange shape, unlike anything he’s ever made before. His ability to manipulate the shape better than ever is a result of the stone Mikan inserted into him, which Tsubasa theorizes is psychokinesis.

Ruka pleads with him to stop, concerned about Natsume’s health the more he uses his alice. He immediately stops on the behest of his best friend, but then he uses his new alice to pull everyone over closer to him. Mikan specifically flies into his arms, where he wanted her. He’s able to catch her, whereas the others land on their heads. Now that they’re safer, he tells her to teleport them.

Who cares where the rest of them land? They can deal with it on their own.

Tsubasa comments that this extra power makes Natsume feel like more of a man, more powerful. This isn’t a farfetched theory. We know how much Natsume wants to grow up, to have power. Now that he has this extra alice, he’s more useful than he already was, and that naturally translates into some extra confidence.

Another thing is that Natsume is putting his all into getting Mikan out safe. He’s willing to expend all his energy and alice in order to accomplish his goal. Adding on to that, he knows he won’t see her again after this. He can hold on for a little longer, but to survive the unknowable amount of years before he can see her again? Unlikely. He doubted he’d even be able to graduate, let alone be on standby for possibly a decade and maybe even more. He has no reason to believe he’ll make it. So he keeps her close now. He’ll be right by her side ‘til the very end, take advantage of every touch and interaction he can. So even if everyone else collapses onto the ground after he uses his extra alice, Mikan will land safely in his arms.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Nine

Natsume may have spared Nobara earlier, but he still doesn’t really trust her. She’s been acting weird this whole time and he’s suspicious. When they have a moment, he confronts her, warning her that if she sells them out to Persona, he won’t go easy on her. After all, to him, she’s still the girl who’s always been Persona’s little pet.

But Nobara doesn’t want to sell them out. She wants to stop Persona and her DA friends from hurting the cause and themselves. She wants to stop them so they don’t become a part of the fight.

She stands back so she doesn’t teleport again with the rest of them. She wants to do this for Mikan.

Mikan doesn’t understand. She’s concerned that she left Nobara behind, so she says she’ll go back to get her, but Natsume stops her. She needs to allow Nobara to make her own choice. Even if Mikan doesn’t get it, the only thing that matters is their original mission. Nothing will change that. He won’t be strayed from it, no matter what obstacles come their way. Nobara made the choice, and she’s the best person to confront the DA class. The rest of them should allow her to do as she wants.

They move forward, and Natsume keeps back when he feels his coughing fit coming on. Now that everything is dire, he definitely doesn’t want to slow things down by worrying people with his body. He worries that he won’t be able to properly protect Mikan, considering the shape he’s in, but he would never say that out loud.

Death creeps ever closer... Why isn't he ever concerned for himself?

Even more, Nobara stressed before she left that Natsume was the most important person to stay by Mikan's side, that he should protect her to the end. Though he wouldn't be so bold to say that about himself, he wants to stay 'til the end. But the fact that he might die at any moment doesn't reassure him. However, any insecurities or fears he has must stay in his mind. He wants to be strong for Mikan, to accomplish their goal and keep her safe. He’s pushed any and all feelings of his own out the window. All that matters is their goal.

He can die afterwards.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Four

Mikan needs to go to her mother. She and Ruka are to teleport to Yuka, since Ruka has the barrier alice and he can keep her safe. The rest of them are going to hold off the Fuukitai and other enemies. There’s really no time for heartfelt goodbyes. Natsume might never see Mikan again, but he turns away because there’s no time for anything else. He will fight off the enemies to keep her safe. That’s what he can do. Anything else will just waste precious time.

Except that Mikan has the telepathy alice now. She’s mostly kept it a secret, sharing it with Hotaru and nobody else.

Natsume can stay silent all he wants, but his heart and mind are racing with thoughts and feelings. She couldn’t ignore it if she wanted to. It’s not the time to be lollygagging. She has to get going, and everyone is urging her to move on and teleport with Ruka, but she’s hesitating.

And then Natsume hears it too. She’s saying it back, telepathically, that she loves him too.

Terrible timing, Mikan. You had all night to say it back! (joking)

It’s all he’s never allowed himself to want to hear. Something that would only happen in a delusional fantasy world. Mikan may care about him, to some degree, but he’d never expected she would love him back. She should love Ruka, who is kind and polite, or literally anybody else. He’s always had to push her away, and even if she saw through his insults to see what he really meant, he still wouldn’t be good enough. He can’t be with her, because his life is running out. He shouldn’t be with her, because all he will do is cause her more pain. He’ll never be with her, because he doesn’t deserve to be. He won’t be with her, because she’s running away with her mother and he’ll never see her again.

But she loves him too anyway.

Despite every insult and attempt to keep his distance. Despite their beginnings of mutual disdain. Despite how he’s said he hated everything about her, about how he wanted her out of his sight. Despite acting like she was a pest and nothing more than an annoyance. Despite everything he did, she somehow still loves him.

It’s the worst thing to ever happen to him, to stand there and hear her saying that in his mind and then watch her disappear forever.

He’s said it out loud only one time. He confessed with his kiss at Christmas, with his alice stone, with the borrowing race, with his speech to the ESP. He’s confessed with every time he got in front of her to protect her, with every cruel word forced out of him by the higher ups, with every smile he had just for her.

Now she finally said it back and it’s too late for anything. He can’t kiss her and show her how much he means it, how much it isn’t just hype over nothing. He can’t tell her he loves her to her face and with his whole chest. He can’t take her by the hand and run away with her. He can’t live happily ever after with her.

That was all okay before, when it was just him who was suffering. So his life would be lonely and short. Okay. Who cares? But now he knows she wants all that too.

He’s miserable. He calls out to her but it’s too late. She’s gone now and all he can do is fight the enemies who want to threaten her security.

Natsume has been left behind with Tono and Tsubasa to fight as hard as they can against the Fuukitai. When they finally get away for a moment, Tono tells them to fight for the girls they love. Tsubasa and Natsume both berate him for this, because who was he talking about? Tono argues it wasn’t about him; he was just trying to cheer the two up after they had to break apart from their girls.

Natsume is clearly in emotional turmoil, but he frequently is, so he doesn’t let it show a lot. He may threaten Tono with his alice or tease him with Tsubasa like all is normal, but it’s not. His current circumstances couldn’t be any worse unless Mikan were in danger, and he’s doing everything he can to keep that from happening.

Tono finally admits that he’s been nervous this whole time because Noda is probably the traitor among them, but Natsume realizes the truth: It’s Goshima.

Tsubasa and Tono are going to try and find Goshima, who has the key Yuka and Mikan need to escape. They also need someone to go and tell them that Goshima can’t be trusted, and Tono wants Natsume to do it.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five

Tono is urging Natsume to go and tell Mikan about Goshima, to go protect her. Naturally, he doesn’t hesitate before taking off. Any excuse to see her again and keep her safe is enough for him.

Tsubasa doesn’t understand why Tono sent him off, though, since Natsume is in such bad shape. Having him run and exert himself further seems wrong.

I just want him to be happy. Is that really so much to ask?

Tono puts it all into perspective. It had to be Natsume. The kid was in a state of absolute misery, even knowing his love is requited and perhaps because of it. He can never see Mikan again. His life will end. The rest of them can talk about decades and decades into the future and still be sure that they will meet Mikan again, but it’s clear that Natsume won’t make it that far. As Tono puts it, it’s important that Natsume has a chance to see her for the last time, to say good-bye properly.

Natsume would go to her no matter what, too, and he does, running with all his might to find her, even though he’s coughing and his body is breaking.

He will use his alice and do anything he can to find her and tell her and keep her safe, and they finally meet again.

He’s standing over the bodies of enemies that he’s just defeated for her, and he finally has a chance to say the good-bye he thought he’d never get.

There are other things that need to be said, but he might not have a chance to say his feelings again if he doesn’t take the opportunity now. He’s sad, because no matter what, their story will end soon. But this is more than he could’ve asked for.

But all of the words that should come out of his mouth don’t. He doesn’t talk about the traitor. He doesn’t tell her he loves her to her face. He doesn’t say anything except her name. None of the feelings he has can be put into words. For the moment he’s speechless.

She is too. She rushes into his arms and they share a quick second of holding each other before they inevitably part forever. The fact that she hugs him might have reminded him that she loves him too. Then again, how could he forget? Either way, he finds the words that were lost to him before.

He’s going to stay with her until the very last second. He won’t leave her or part from her for even a moment again until they have to say good-bye for good.

No, they won't last. She'll leave and he'll die, but they have this moment, even if it's the only thing they'll ever have.

No, he doesn’t mention the traitor even though he was sent to. Natsume very rarely talks about his feelings, but they felt so important this time that he had to say them out loud.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six

Even though Natsume didn’t say it to Mikan, Shiki got the information from him via telepathy and then conveyed the information to Yuka.

Now that Yuka and Mikan are reunited, they can all go to see them off, fighting Fuukitai and Luna along the way. Narumi and Mikan are trapped in an enemy’s ice alice for a moment, until Natsume melts the ice and takes Mikan’s hand. He wasn’t joking about staying by her side until the very end.

Until the very last moment.

Sure, she needed to reunite with her mother and Narumi, but they’ll be spending forever with her after this night. He only has these next few minutes. He’ll be the one to take her by the hand until he has no choice but to let go. Until then, he will stay by her side.

Lucky for them, Yuka’s plan to wait until the last moment for the key so they can leave with Naru panned out. “Tsubasa” arrives with the key and hands it off. There’s no time to waste; Yuka rushes to open the warp-hole but all that comes from it is an explosion.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven

Yuka and Narumi were caught in the blast. Yuka shielded Narumi with her body and took the brunt of the hit. She’s now in critical condition.

No hesitation. That's his only keepsake from his mother, his only reprieve from endless pain, but he'll give it Yuka because he can't not give it to her.

Natsume doesn’t hesitate, and he gives Mikan the healing alice stone that his mother got from Yuka. Yuka is Mikan’s mother. Her death would be crushing for Mikan, who’s already had to face so much trauma from watching her father die too. This all was about getting Mikan and Yuka out safely, and all that effort would be in vain if Yuka dies. And after Natsume has seen everything that happened in the past, he respects Yuka too. All Yuka has ever done is suffer, just like he has. To simply die after all that--he doesn’t want that either. Yuka gave his mother that alice stone, something that brought him a little reprieve whenever he had a coughing fit or felt ill. The least he can do now is give it back.

But it doesn’t work. It’s not enough. Yuka has enough time before her death to hug Mikan and apologize to Luna, but then her heart stops.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight

The ESP arrives to break the period of mourning. Luna can’t believe that he would orchestrate this, but it’s not much of a surprise to anyone else. The “Tsubasa” decoy reveals himself to be Goshima, who holds Mikan by the wrists. The ESP only needed one person with the stealing alice. Yuka had become extendable, so he eliminated her.

Goshima goes to surrender Mikan to the ESP, but she fights, and Natsume moves to fight too, because that’s his girlfriend and he promised he would keep her safe. But the ESP always has the barrier alice cast on him, always protected, even from Natsume’s strong alice. Even Natsume can’t help Mikan now.

But Shiki breaks the ESP’s barrier and Mikan rushes to her friends’ side.

Z is invading the school and threatening to take the students captive. The MSP needs her successor, Shiki to be appointed so that he can protect the school with his barrier alice. The ESP is in a bind. Shiki can either run away with Mikan as Yuka had intended to, or he will agree to stay and act as the MSP to protect the school.

Conclusion

God this arc is a mess when all you want are the NM moments. How dare they be so scattered! Anyways, Natsume now knows that Mikan loves him too, romantically, but everything has been upside down for a while, specifically tonight, so the future doesn't look bright. In the next part, we'll talk about how Natsume feels about being separated from Mikan when she's locked away.

Sorry this is late. I'm not in a fantastic mood today which affected my motivation. I shoved a bunch of content in here and it might be too much. I don't know. There wasn't a clear way I could cut it into multiple parts without them being choppy and short as hell. I just wanted to get to the next part because this arc was stressing me out.

In any case, I feel like crap right now emotionally, because this day was very draining. I'll try to post tomorrow at a reasonable time. Thank you for reading.

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[midyxthcrisis]

let them go - part three | j.t.

part one | part two

sorry for not posting last night! i was with family and didn’t have the time to write

The next thing you remembered was waking up in a bright white room to the never ending sound of the heart monitor you were attached to. You shifted a little, a groan leaving your lips in response to the soreness that had settled in your ribs.

“Morning, sunshine.” You looked over to see none other than Jason Todd sitting on a chair with that signature cocky smile on his lips. 

“Where the fuck am I and why the hell are you here?” 

“We are at Titans Tower, babe, and I am here because Dick asked me to. He couldn’t be here to keep an eye on you.Titans shit, I guess.”

There was a warmth that again bloomed in your chest at the thought that Dick had specifically asked Jason to watch you. Perhaps Dick could see the way your eyes seemed to soften whenever you looked at the young Robin. Or that you had fainted in Jason’s arm as soon as Trigon lost control of you and Jason refused to leave your side afterwards.  

“Titans Tower... I never thought I would actually get to see the place. Dick’s told me stories about the Titans. What happened while I was out?” You had sat up properly and soon realized that you were wearing a shirt you didn’t recognized. It clearly wasn’t yours, you would have known, but you also knew it couldn’t have been Dick’s. On the front of the shirt was the logo for some band you didn’t know. You could only assume it was Rachel’s. She seemed to be someone who was into shit like that.

Jason filled you in on everything that had happened while you were unconscious. Who Rachel’s father was, how he had gotten control of you all, the week or so following when Dick had dropped you all off at a motel before going to Gotham in order to talk to Bruce.

“Holy shit. So what, are we all Titans or something?”

Jason shrugged and stood up from the chair he was sitting in. You were working on taking the various ivs and other things that were stuck in your skin. “I’m not. I’m going back to Gotham soon. The only reason we’re here is because Bruce wanted Dick to bring me along.”

You could feel your face falling slightly at the words Jason spoke. He was leaving. Going back to the one place you swore you would never go back to. A part of you wanted to go with him, to see what had become of Gotham since you had left. But you pushed that part deep deep down and told yourself that you had just met this boy. You had to stay with Dick, who you had known for years and trusted with your life.

“Oh, well, um, thanks for staying with me. Do you know where Dick is?” You had shifted in the bed so you were sitting with your legs hanging over the edge. There was a pounding in your head and a dull ache in your ribs. You pushed past the pain and willed yourself up from the bed, a soft groan passing through your lips.

“I’m not sure, the last time I saw him he was in the security room.”

“Thanks, for everything.” You walked over to the boy can gave him a gentle smile. “I’ll see you later, Boy Wonder.” With a pat on the shoulder and a moment of silent pain, you slowly walked out of the hospital room and off to find Dick.

- - -

A thick piece of black fabric covered your eyes as you stood in the middle of the sparring ring. There was a wooden sword in your hand, you had gotten used to the weight of it over the past few weeks of sparring. Jason stood across from you, wearing the same blindfold and holding the same sword as you were. It was a dumb training thing that Dick was making you all do. His explanation for it was that you never knew what would be taken from you while in combat, including your sight. 

“Don’t hold back on me, babe.” You heard Jason’s voice ring out in the room. You could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke. You let out a chuckle and adjusted your position. It had been a few weeks since you all had arrived at Titans Tower.

“I’m sure you’ve been wishing to say that to me, Boy Wonder. And don’t worry, I won’t.”

With that the spar started as you lunged forward and attempted to land a hit on Jason. Within the few weeks that you had been at the tower, you and Jason had only grown closer. The two of you would spend your days drinking shitty beer and listening to the collection of records Dick had in the tower between sparring sessions. The sparring sessions were certainly a sight to see, that was for sure. There were joking remarks thrown and momentary pauses where the two of you would just stand there. Sweaty, breathing heavily, trying your best to ignore the comments from Gar and Rachel for you two to “Just kiss already damnit!” Sometimes you swore you saw Dick standing in the hallway with a bowl of popcorn when you and Jason would spar. 

You were falling behind in the spar. You had always gone the defensive route when it came to spars, but this time you went the offensive route. It must have been a sight to see; you getting your ass kicked by none other than Robin. There was a moment when the two of you were circling around each other. You could hear him shifting the weight oddly between his feet. You had come to learn Jason’s fighting patterns very well over the few weeks.

You didn’t think as you lifted your hand and felt the familiar cold energy rush through you. 

“What the fuck, Y/N?” You immediately took off the blindfold and dropped the sword onto the ground when you had seen what you did. You had unintentionally put up a wall of ice between you two out of pure instinct.

“That has to be cheating. Dick said-”

“Dick never said that we couldn’t use our abilities! You’re just pissed because you don’t have any. You’re basically a glorified bodyguard that wears fucking spandex.” You had touched the ice wall preventing you from getting closer to him and it quickly disappeared. Over the few weeks you had gained a better control of your abilities, and now you could do things like the wall of ice.

“I’m not a fucking bodyguard, and it’s zylon, not spandex.” This was slowly becoming the back and forth you often had with Jason. Gar had started calling them flirt battles, even going as far as to commentate a few of them. 

“Really? Tell that to the tights I found in your room the other day.” There was grin on your lips as you stepped up to the boy. You knew that you had won this one from the way his lips curled into the smirk that sent your stomach into somersaults. You two were so close that one movement would press your lips together, and it seemed to put you and Jason under a spell that was only broken by Gar’s voice.

“What were you doing in Jason’s room?” There was a teasing smile on his lips, a soft laugh emerging from Rachel. 

“I was showing him a new record I got from the place down the street and Boy Wonder forgot to put away his suit.” It seemed to be that every day you were flushing more. For the first time in your life you weren’t chronically cold, whether that meant sweating from training or having warm cheeks from the constant teasing coming from your other teammates. 

“Yeah, sure. I think Dick wanted to see us after you were done.” Gar wasn’t buying your story and that was obvious. But he let it go and hopped down from the table him and Rachel had been sitting on before walking out of the room. You and Jason were alone again. You picked up your own blindfold and sword before replacing them on the shelves where they had come from.

“You wanna go for coffee later? There’s a place not too far from here that’s also a record store-”

“Hell yeah, I’m in.” A smile stretched across your lips at Jason’s response. You hadn’t even gotten the full sentence out and he had already agreed to. There was a flutter in your heart when you realized that fact.

- - - 

Unfortunately that coffee would have to wait. 

You all soon learned that a man who had tormented the original Titans had escaped from prison, and that meant the Titans were getting back together in the tower. To say your nerves were high was an understatement. You hadn’t seen any actual conflict since Trigon, and you were unconscious for days after that. What if that happened again? Or worse.

The original Titans had gone out to try and capture Dr. Light when they figured out that he was drawing power from the stadium nearby. You could tell that Jason was antsy, he had shown up in his suit ready to go only to be shot down by Dick. He had gone to his room after that and hadn’t come out since. You gently knocked on his door before opening it and leaning yourself against the doorframe.

“Didn’t think Jason Todd was one for a pity party.” You teased, a smile on your lips. It was true. Jason always seemed like a strong person. You thought that at the most he would mope for a couple minutes and be over with it.

“Fuck off, Y/N.” As much as he hated it, there was his own smile creeping to his lips as he spoke. Unfortunately you didn’t get a chance to make any witty comeback as a voice rang out through the whole tower alerting you to the Titans’ return. The four of you who had been left behind all emerged from your rooms to see what had happened.

And they had let Dr. Light get away. 

Jason was pissed, and everyone could see it. He had yelled at Dick about how he wouldn’t have let Dr. Light get away. It all happened rather quickly, really, and before you had the chance to stop either of them Jason was throwing a punch and Dick had pushed Jason down to the floor. There were a few moments of silence before Jason stood up and stormed away. You fought the urge to go after him. You knew that it would only end in a screaming match or you getting kicked out of his room. It was best to leave him alone when he was like this.

“What the fuck was that, Dick?” Your voice broke the tense silence that had settled over everyone.

“I was- I didn’t mean to.” 

Instead of responding you just walked back to your room, clearly shaken up by the confrontation. You never had enjoyed violence. It was quite ironic really. You came from Gotham and yet panicked every time someone fought in front of you. Especially when it was two people you cared deeply about. It sucked, but Jason had manage to worm his way into your heart in a way nobody ever had. 

That was why you made yourself rise from your bed and go check on him. You had knocked on his door a couple times, only to receive no answer, so you opened the door and saw nobody was in there. And that the briefcase where he kept his suit was gone from its normal place.

“Shit.” You mumbled to yourself as you rushed to the control room to find Gar. He could pull up Jason’s tracker and you would find him in no time. Nobody would even notice that he was gone. 

But Gar was gone too.

“Shit!” You immediately rushed to the main area of the tower, your breathing heavy from a mixture of nerves and the fact that you had sprinted there. Everyone had turned to look at you with confusion.

“I can’t find Gar or Jason. And Jason’s suit is gone.”

[doctorgerth]

Matchup for @basilisa-scorpii​

Hello Coop, you precious ray of sunshine, congrats once again on well-deserved 1000 followers <3 I’ll take the risk and ask for the naughty matchup, haha. Basilisa (short: Bas) here, female, 24, ISTJ, sun Capricorn rising Cancer moon Aries, bisexual with preference for men. Appearance: tall (180cm/5’11), on the chubby side of body type (esp. when it comes to boobs), Greek type of beauty (dark hair and eyes, olivish skin), rather tomboyish with huge love for punk style. Personality: shy and reserved at first, but I easily get attached to people, I have huge tendency to be gloomy, can come across as rude and insensitive for people who don’t know me well, since I don’t really care about social boundaries and I’m very hot headed (but I do my best to restrain myself, so I rarely explode – but when I do, well, things are flying); my personality tends to turn softer when I’m around people who I like or care for tho; I care a lot for my friends, can be overprotective and I’m extremely loyal; I love sarcastic and morbid humor, around the right people I can be goofy and chaotic. And I’m clumsy. Very stupid level of clumsy. The kinky part: I’m the bratty type of sub – the one who likes to be dominated in bed (bondage, restraints, control training, sensory deprivation, spanking, dirty, slight degrading talk etc.) but hates control taking part outside of the bedroom; besides that: anal sex, wax and slight blood play, teasing (both receiving and giving), biting and other forms of slight sexual pain – generally idea of rough sex and fight for control, followed by aftercare is a huge turn on for me. I’m not a switch per se, but I don’t mind switching roles with my partner, especially as a part of fight for domination and teasing. I hope I haven’t written too much info, lmao. Good luck with the event and continue being awesome <3 

Basssssss so very honored to do a matchup for you!! Honestly, I had a really hard time choosing between your main match and your first potential suitor…….but I think your main match is just a bit better! Also, since you requested a naughty matchup, that is what I will be primarily focusing on. Hope ya like these!! 😉💕

Your match is…

Zoro (Scorpio, ISTP)

Zoro meets most of your kinks and then some. He likes to feel in control during sex and definitely has a repressed dom side hidden underneath all that dorkiness. He didn’t expect you to be such a sub when he took you to bed considering how hot-headed you can be, but it all made sense once he realized you are in fact a bratty sub. And lemme just say he loves it and is constantly turned on by it. Zoro likes a challenge so he utterly enjoys trying to get you to behave and it makes your sex so so exciting as you two fight for dominance. He wants nothing more than to roll around with you, marking you up, roughing you up a bit, and reminding you who you belong to and who is in charge. Only in the bedroom of course! Zoro would never try to control you outside of the bedroom and that’s what makes the sex so fulfilling. As soon as you two get into bed (or wherever you’ve decided to fuck…) it’s like entering into a whole other dimension, one where you both can embrace your desires. Zoro respects you and cares for you outside of the bedroom, but once you two get down and dirty, he doesn’t hold back on dominating you and roughing you up.  

Zoro has impeccable stamina and can keep you up all night with multiple rounds. On the opposite end, Zoro can be pretty lazy and impatient when it comes to sex sometimes. This usually only shows when you two try to incorporate bondage, he doesn’t want to waste his time with intricate binding that’s gonna prove difficult to tie and untie. The most he’ll use is his bandanna, his sash, or maybe a pair of handcuffs if you happen to own any. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy tying you up because he definitely does, but he’s just a bit impatient and wants to go the easiest route. Just enough to keep you secured! He’ll use the bandanna or sash as a form of sensory deprivation for you as well, blindfolding you while he has his way with you, heightening your senses and bringing you to mind-blowing orgasms time and time again! 

He’s utterly obsessed with your body, unable to keep his hands to himself both inside and outside of the bedroom. He can’t decide if he’s a boob or ass guy because frankly, he loves all of you! Whatever he can get his hands on, he’s going to do so. The way you jiggle and squirm underneath him (or on top), he can’t get enough of it. He can’t help but praise you and your sexy figure, proving over and over again that only you turn him on this much and can make him cum so hard. When it comes to your tits, he can’t fight the urge of wanting to fuck them. Mouth, teeth, tongue, hands, dick, he wants all of him all over them. Zoro also loves your ass so spanking is definitely incorporated during sexy times. He gets insanely turned on seeing his large hand prints painted a striking red along your soft, gorgeous ass. It makes him feel oddly proud to see how he marks you up, especially if your ass is still bruised well after sex. Continuing on with the ass love, he was incredibly excited when you offered the idea of anal sex to him. He’s always been a bit curious on the idea of fucking your tight little asshole, so when you gave permission, he was in pure bliss. It’s definitely one of his top kinks now thanks to you. 

Zoro wasn’t the best at dirty talk, especially degradation, at first, so you had to be the one to encourage that from him. It proved very fruitful cause Zoro has quite the dirty mouth on him now. Wax play is not something he ever considered before, but he’s grown to actually enjoy it. He’s realized he has a bit of a temperature play kink, especially when he incorporates knife play, which leads to your shared kink of slight blood play. Zoro isn’t much of a tease outside of the bedroom but he can be a bit relentless when he gets you alone. Thankfully, it doesn’t ever last that long because Zoro is a bit impatient and wants to get to pleasuring you asap. But, having you beg for him is something he doesn’t mind entertaining for a while. He finds your teasing incredibly sexy and thinks you’re the best at it in the relationship. When you decide to top him and take control, my oh my is he a sucker for it. Seeing your gorgeous body atop his, riding him and using him for your pleasure, he could lay back and watch that tantalizing sight all day. Unfortunately, he usually gets too excited and doesn’t last long when you do this lol he always blames you of course - you’re just too good at taking him! Basically you two are pretty kinky motherfuckers and you both enjoy exploring your interests together! There’s been some things you didn’t particularly enjoy and some things you’ll never get tired of, the point is that you two have fun and love exploring different kinks with each other. Your sex is plenty rough and playful, leaving you utterly sore, exhausted, and satisfied every single time! Zoro puts his all into fucking you, no matter if you’re being rough or sensual, so unfortunately he doesn’t last long enough for intensive aftercare before he passes out beside you. But, he’ll usually aid in cleaning up and will make sure to fall asleep with you tight in his embrace! Rough Zoro disappears the moment he cuddles up into bed with you, in comes clingy post-sex Zoro. Make sure you go pee before he passes out on you because it is impossible to get him off otherwise!

Other potential suitors:

Kid (Capricorn, ESTP) - Two hot-headed Capricorns? You might not be able to survive each other outside of the bedroom, but he brings you everything you could desire and then some when in the bedroom. He’s a total dom so he never minds taking control of you and he fully embraces your bratty sub behavior. Like Zoro, he appreciates a challenge and loves to put you in your place. He also loves your curvy body and knows how to give it the love it deserves. You share a lot of similar kinks so there’s no need for any excessive exploring during sex. He’s definitely the best at being rough with you but the aftercare is nothing special honestly lmao he doesn’t put much effort into it unless you catch him in a good mood and even then the most he’ll do is throw you a towel and call it a night. He keeps you oh so satisfied and hungry for more during sex, afterwards...don’t get your hopes up. You might need to nag him a bit to make him more considerate during after care and who knows? Maybe you’ll come to find Kid is a total cuddle bear when he wants to be.  

Shanks (Pisces, ENFJ) - Very similar to Zoro and Kid in all of the best ways. You share some of the same kinks and Shanks is very intrigued and turned on by your bratty sub tendencies. He is a relentless tease both inside and outside the bedroom leaving you absolutely weak for him 24/7. He’d of course never try to control you outside of the bedroom, as with Zoro when you two have sex, you’re transported to another world. Shanks doesn’t mind taking over and domming you and he’s hella good at it. He can be rough when he wants, especially if you beg for it, and he’s insanely skilled at dirty talk. He loves your body and loves to mark it up even more. Post-sex cuddles are also a must with this man, especially with you because he is a sucker for you, and he knows you enjoy it. Shanks has all the experience to offer you in order to keep you utterly satisfied and coming back for more! 

O-Kiku (ISFP) - Okay hear me out, she’s a total softie but it’s always the innocent ones that have the kinkiest sides right?? We’ve seen her more “sadistic” sides come out a few times. Not to mention O-Kiku is more than twice your size so domming you is easy peasy to her. She might not always be the roughest, but she knows how to tease you and leave you begging for her. You share enough similar kinks to get along well in the bedroom. If she is ever particularly rough with you, you know you’re gonna be getting the best aftercare you’ve ever experienced in your life. She loves you and she never really intends to hurt you (even if you beg for it) so she will always make up for all the markings on you and any “harsh” words she’s said. Literally the best after care comes from her! 

[rogertaylors-lipgloss]

Untitled Ben Hardy x Reader Chapter 2

itI really need to come up with a title for this one, esp considering it’s been my favorite so far. Any suggestions??

Word Count: 2575

Warnings: None.Yet. 

Ben had found you a place at the side of the stage, where other crew members had gathered to watch. Although there were cameras rolling, the boys were only being checked for lighting and movement. Polly and Rami stood front and center, showing him footage from the real Live Aid so he could memorize the movements. Joe practiced holding his bass and was bouncing around almost as much as the real John Deacon. Gwilym was talking to someone, going over something on his guitar. You instantly recognized Brian May, and then Roger Taylor, who was giving Ben a quick drum lesson. In awe that you were in the presence of two rock legends, you didn’t notice that Ben kept glancing at you. Make no mistake, he was absorbing Roger’s every last word, but he couldn’t help but steal a look at you in between. You were wearing a pair of dark wash boot-cut jeans and a dark orange cardigan that tied around the waist, with a pair of brown clogs. You looked so cozy, he thought, and instantly wished he was sitting with you on a couch somewhere in front of a fireplace. He shook the though from his head as Roger gave him a “good luck” and went back stage.

The boys rehearsed for about two hours, before the director finally felt like the boys had it down pat. He gave the four of them a quick rundown of how shooting would go tomorrow before calling it a day for the the cast and crew. Ben half-ran over to where you were still standing. “So, what do you think?” He asked, his eyes widening with excitement.

“Incredible. And I can’t believe that you get to work with the Roger Taylor and Brian May!” You loved Queen, so you struggle to suppress your urge to fangirl. Picking up on your interest, Ben asked, “Would you like me to introduce you?”

The jaw-dropped look on your face indicated your answer, and he led you by the hand over to where Brian and Roger were chatting with a couple of producers. “Brian, Roger- this is Y/N. She’s a good friend of mine. She’s working with Julian on the costuming.” You were frozen where you stood, and Brian turned to greet you.  

“Ah, how lovely to meet you, Y/N.” He had the kindest face you’d ever seen on a man, and you struggled to get out a “hello.” Ben, sensing how nervous you were, put his hand on the small of your back and subtly pushed you closer to the two men. Roger smiled at you and reached out to shake your hand. “Roger Taylor, love.”

Brian looked down at your shoes and his face lit up. “My goodness, I love your clogs! I have about a hundred pairs m’self.” You had heard about his vast surplus of the wooden shoes from another intern, as you hadn’t been lucky enough to go with the group to pull costumes from Brian May’s own closet. “Are you a fan of Queen?”

You nodded. “Very big one. Uh, fan that is.” Roger and Brian laughed at your response. “I used to have posters of you on my wall.” You mentally smacked yourself for omitting the embarrassing detail, but Roger and Brian were endeared by it.

“Well, you’ll have you come see us play sometime. We’d love you to have you. Perhaps good ole’ Ben here can help you arrange that?” Roger clapped Ben on the shoulder and winked. “Isn’t that right?”

Before Ben could respond, Roger and Brian were pulled away to speak with the director. “We’ll have to chat another time. It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” Brian waved as he and Roger disappeared.

“So,” Ben started. “What do you usually do when you get off work?”

“Well, I don’t usually meet to world-famous rock legends for starters.” He laughed. “I usually just pick up some fast-food on the way back to my hotel.”

“You’re staying in a hotel?” He asked, shooting you a concerned look.

You nodded. “I couldn’t stay in the dorms anymore after I took this job, and I haven’t gotten my first paycheck yet, so a hotel was the cheapest option, short of sleeping in my car.”

“Well, that simply won’t do. Why don’t I treat you to a real, home-cooked meal at my place?”

You didn’t usually agree to go home with strange men you’d just met, but after spending the better part of your day around him, you felt like he was no longer a stranger.

“Sounds like a date, Mr. Hardy,” you replied. His face lit up like a box of Christmas lights.

“A date?” He repeated.

Embarrassed, you attempted to backtrack. “It’s just a colloquialism. I mean, unless you want too…”

Ben’s heart raced at the prospect of a date with you. His lips turned up in a smile. “I would really, really like that.”

After collecting your things from the costume department, you exchanged goodbyes with Julian a few other interns as you walked out to where Ben was waiting for you. He was talking in low tones with Rami, and they both went silent as they noticed you approaching. It was curious, but you didn’t pry.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow?” The both of you nodded and Rami walked off with a wave.

“Ready?” Ben asked you.  

“Ready, Freddie,” you giggled, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

He laughed, catching your reference. You surprised him every time you opened your mouth, and he felt his heart flutter. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was smitten. Little did he know that you felt the same.

Ben had convinced you to ride with him and once you had buckled your seatbelt, he handed you his phone. “Want to play D.J.?”

You eagerly accepted and knew what song you wanted to play. ’39 by Queen flooded the speakers and you leaned back with your eyes shut, humming along. Ben struggled to focus on the road, taking in how peaceful you looked and how natural it felt to have you riding shotgun. He swerved a bit and muttered “bollocks” for accidentally stirring you.

It didn’t take long to get to Ben’s. He lived in a moderately-sized apartment, and you immediately noticed the sparse décor. “Just moved in,” he explained. Suddenly, a small beagle came bounding up to you and put her two front paws up on your leg. “Frankie no-“ he started to say, but you had already sat down on the floor in front of her.  

“Hi there sweet angel,” you murmured, making sure to scratch behind her ears. “What a perfect little pup you are. You said her name is Frankie?”

Ben’s heart melted at the sight of you and Frankie. “Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “You like dogs?”

“Like dogs? I absolutely adore them. I had to leave mine behind with my mom in the states when I started school over here. His name was Seymour, a black lab. I miss him every day, he’s my best friend in the world.”

“I can’t imagine having to leave behind Frankie here, that must have been so hard.” You just nodded, trying not to tear up. Ben noticed and reached his hand down to pull you back up on your feet. You scooped up Frankie for one last hug before taking it.

You followed him (with Frankie right on your heels) into the kitchen and perched yourself on a barstool at the island, watching him flutter about. He held up a bottle of white wine. “You’ve had a long day, you deserve to relax,” he said, pouring you a glass.

“Your day was just as long!” You teased him.

“Your right,” he said before putting his lips to the bottle and throwing it back. He held the bottle back up. “To you, Y/N.”

“To me?”

Ben walked around the island, still holding the bottle, and put his hand on your cheek. “To you,” he repeated. His touch was almost electric on your skin. You picked up your own glass and clinked it against his bottle in a toast. He wanted nothing more than to lean and kiss you right then and there but was interrupted by the sound of your stomach growling.

Your face turned beet red.

“Hungry?” He asked, clearly amused.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have a chance to eat lunch today.” You look down at your drink, avoiding his eyes. Definitely not a model, you thought again.

He stepped closer and gently reached to guide your chin up. “Don’t apologize for being hungry, love.” There it was again, that electricity. Your heart fluttered. “Now, what would you say to some macaroni and cheese? I’m afraid that’s about the extent of my cooking abilities.”

“Wow, talk about false advertising,” you said with fake outrage.

“Oi, I said home-cooked meal, not a four-course dining experience.” He tugged on the hem of your sweater.

“Well, lucky for you macaroni and cheese is one of my favorites. But,” you said, sliding carefully off the stool, “I don’t know if I trust a Brit with a box of Kraft.” Before he could respond, you had walked over and begun filling up a pot he had already pulled out with water.

He watched you feel your way about his kitchen, attempting to find the necessary ingredients on your own and quickly silencing him with a loud shush before he could give away the location. You were stubborn, but in an self-reliable, independent woman type way. He could tell you were used to doing things on your own and correctly guessed that was how you liked it. When you had finished cooking the macaroni, Ben helped you scoop the servings into bowls before leading you over to the couch. It was a bit drafty, Ben thought, and set down his bowl while he lit the fireplace. He sat back down and looked over at you. You had long-since kicked off your clogs and had your feet folded underneath you as you ate, looking even better than when he had imagined it earlier that day. Ben took a bite of his food and was instantly stunned. “In all my years of eating macaroni out of box, it’s never tasted this good. What did you do?”

           You offered him a sly smile and winked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ben’s heart raced at the challenge. “It’s a trade secret, I’m afraid. You’ll never get a peep out of me.” You knew exactly what you were doing and before you could take another bite, Ben had abandoned his bowl on the coffee table and pounced on you, tickling your ribs. You managed to set your bowl down before it could fall and half-heartedly tried to push him off of you. He continued until finally you couldn’t take it anymore and blurted out, “Sour cream! Sour Cream!” You gasped for air. “I put a small dollop of sour cream in the macaroni and cheese.”

           Ben hovered over you, reveling in your surrender. You looked up at him and hoped that he was feeling what you were. Chemistry. Pure, raw chemistry. You took the plunge, lacing your fingers into his gorgeous head of blonde locks and pulled his lips down to yours. He moaned and allowed himself to collapse lightly on top of you. His soft pink lips matched your pace, pushing and pulling against your mouth. He held himself up on his elbows, holding your face in one hand and allowing his other to rest on your waist. You gently tugged at his bottom lip with your teeth, inviting him in for more, and he hungrily forced his tongue into your mouth. “Ben,” you murmured, and he moved his lips to your neck.

           “Yes, love?” His accent made you melt. As much as it pained you, you sat up a little more, prompting him to look at you with those wide eyes of his.

“I don’t want to be just another notch in your bed post.”

“My bed doesn’t have posts,” he chuckled. You swatted his arm. He feigned an “ouch.”

“I’m serious. This job, it’s important to me. It’s more than a job. It’s my career, and I’m just starting out. I don’t want to be another girl who fell for an actor who only wanted a one night stand.”

Ben was paying attention now. His heart ached that you would think that of him, but he also knew how some actors treated women who worked on set. He ran his fingers through your hair before letting his hand rest on your cheek. “I don’t want a one night stand, Y/N. I like you and everything I’ve learned about you so far, and I want to learn even more.” Your heart skipped a beat at his revelation. How could a man like Ben Hardy possibly be interested in a girl like you? “If it helps, I pinky promise not to try and get in your pants for the rest of the night. No promises for our next date, though,” he said with a flirtatious wink.

You smiled and nodded, now feeling more at ease. Ben tossed you the TV remote before picking his bowl back up to finish the meal. You still hadn’t gotten used to British television shows, so you settled on an interesting documentary about the Wars of the Roses. Though it was not something he would have ever chosen, he loved the way your eyes lit up as you absorbed information you’d undoubtedly already heard at least a hundred times.

The warm glow of the fireplace radiated throughout the room, but you still managed to catch a chill. Ben noticed you shiver, and reached over the arm of the couch to pick up a blanket. He opened his arms out to you. “C’mere, love.”

You scooted across the length of the couch until you reached Ben, who maneuvered so that your back was flush against his chest before he wrapped the oversized blanket around the two of you. Even through his clothes, you could feel the warmth of his body. You laid your head back, and he snaked his arms around your waist before placing his head atop yours. The weight of the long day settled over your body and you could feel yourself nodding off.

Ben was overwhelmed by the feeling of you in his arms. It felt so natural, a perfect fit. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to ravish you right there on his couch, but he understood and respected your reservations and he desperately wanted to prove to you that this was more than some flirtation to him. He knew the instant he first laid eyes on you that he needed you. He tried to pay attention to the documentary, but he felt your head fall lax on his chest. Peering down, he was flattered to see that you had fallen asleep in his embrace. Carefully, he scooted down a bit so that his head rested on the throw pillow that had been stuffed behind his back. He was still slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t dare wake you up. Frankie, who’d been lounging by the warmth of the fireplace, wandered over and jumped up onto the back of the couch. The three of you slept there together all through the night.

Tag List (If I missed you send me a message): 

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[fangirlinglikeabus]

i read some non vna dw books a while ago but because i am a Clown i’ve only just finished typing up notes on them...i think my next dw book i’ll make notes as i go rather than just marking the pages and Hoping I Remember. anyway! here’s my thoughts on thirteen doctors 13 stories. i have more opinions on some than others. 

A BIG HAND FOR THE DOCTOR

"...Susan, who was possibly the only person in the universe who could make the Doctor smile at the mere thought of her."

awwwwww

didn't really like this one that much - i wasn't too impressed with eoin colfer's characterisation of the first doctor (esp since pre-ian and barbara i don’t think he’d willingly attempt to stop some villains until susan was in danger)

THE NAMELESS CITY

Polly...once described him as looking like an unmade bed.

lmao

...he didn't know exactly what he was, though when he was growing up, he had heard tales of the legendary fairy creatures of the Unseelie Court who haunted Scotland's deepest valleys. He suspected the Doctor might be one of the dark Sith.

HEAVILY vibe with this concept the world is saved by bagpipes.......peak dw THE SPEAR OF DESTINY

"You know what I love about London?" he said, turning to her briefly. She sighed. "I'm sure I can't guess." "It's the only city in the universe where you can drive around in a car that's seventy years old and get away with it." "Who says you're getting away with it?" Jo muttered. 

nkdfsjksn

"Fire away!"

"Oh, Doctor, please. Not after that business at the museum."

no doctor is immune to the temptation of a good pun. no matter how inappropriate. actually i really like how jo and three are written in this generally. there's so many good scenes. also, when the doctor asks her why she doesn't know anything about the vikings: "Doctor, we did the Romans. Every year." rip jo

From a distance the Doctor watched as a group of about twenty men loaded the TARDIS on to the back of a large low wagon pulled by four sturdy oxen.

jo: the doctor told me about the perception filter on the tardis so it'll be fine! they won't even spot it. literally the next scene, immediately:

She longed to stand and give this old goat a piece of her mind, but she knew she'd most likely fall over if she tried, which wasn't the effect she was after.

aw jo :(

"Do you know they wash once a week?" "Could have fooled me," muttered Jo.

*desperately resists the urge to write down every jo line in this story*

"I have the ship. And I have the spear. What need have I of you any more?"

the master is betrayed. to the surprise of no-one but himself.

The Doctor held her by the shoulders. "My dear girl," he said. "That is very noble of you. You were right. Your aspirations /are/ the very noblest. But you're wrong about something. Nothing is more important than you."

me, sobbing:

ROOTS OF EVIL

realised as i was reading this that i don't own any books featuring leela.....a crime

"Surprise!" the Doctor said. "You know you were complaining that you missed trees?"

this is actually the cutest thing no-one look at me

She could never understand why the Doctor was so careless of danger. It was a good thing he had her to look after him, she thought, as he opened the TARDIS door and they stepped out together into dim, green light and the earthy, warm-compost smell inside the great tree.

phillip reeve gets the four+leela dynamic. like. he Gets it. 

"It will not hurt you," she promised. "It is called a 'scarf'. It is like a cloak, only pointless."

ousdofnsoksfd

"Did it look a bit like a gravel pit? You'd be amazed how many alien worlds look just like gravel pits..."

what is doctor who. without quarry jokes.

"I mean, he's wearing a bow tie!" the Doctor explained patiently. "Ridiculous objects! I wouldn't be seen dead in a bow tie!"

1) says the guy who wears an obnoxiously long scarf everywhere 2) honey, you've got a big storm coming

TIP OF THE TONGUE

there's a scene in this where nyssa and the doctor chill at a diner and they drink chocolate milkshakes together. this is all i care about.

Good Lord, was that celery he was wearing on his lapel?

Yeah We Know

"Are you British?" Nettie said, as if this was the most surprising part of the whole thing.

i mean, fair

He paused. "I don't suppose either of you would be interested in travelling?"

the fifth doctor: hey one of my friends died recently and i abandoned the other one but i really miss having a large crew so i was wondering if you two literal children would like to risk your life travelling with me :)

SOMETHING BORROWED

you'd think given this one is from peri's pov she'd be slightly more central to the plot. ah well.

"That's two storeys up!" I exclaimed. "And I'm in heels." "Well then, you should have worn more sensible shoes, shouldn't you?"

maybe she lives in hope that she won't have to do any running/scale buildings every time she steps out of the tardis. i get that. 

"Well, you are the expert when it comes to gaudy," I said, giving a meaningful look to his red-and-yellow plaid coat and green tie.

every six story is legally obligated to drag his coat

The Doctor shook the man's hand vigorously. "Yes, yes. A little different round the edges since our last meeting on Kiri 4, but all the charm and intellect are still here."

i love this bastard.......

"Love? That contrived, chemically driven state of idiocy?"

mood

A clatter of metal was the sole warning I had before a hole in the ceiling suddenly opened, and the Doctor came tumbling down to the floor, landing in an ungraceful heap of rainbow plaid. Nonetheless, he rose to his feet with all the dignity of an Olympic gymnast who'd just landed a perfect somersault.

not to sound like a broken record but i would Die for this idiot

withholding myself from using more quotes to illustrate my unbridled love for the sixth doctor whom..........

"You might regret not helping me with this one day," she  [the Rani] called over to us. "Your next regeneration may be sooner than you think."

Huh. I Wonder What That's Referring To

RIPPLE EFFECT

From the look on his face, Ace reckoned that a visit to the Time Lords was something similar to her having to visit the dentist back on Earth.

i mean to be fair.....the time lords are a whole lot worse although in this case the doctor's reasons for not wanting to visit are: (i) they're 'old, boring and judgemental' (ii) they have stupid clothes and a stupid non-intervention policy (iii) they treat him 'like a naughty schoolboy' (can't have that in front of your companion!)

i apparently didn't have many comments to make on this one. um...it was good. i liked the idea of an alternate universe with nice daleks. MOVING ON

SPORE

"They're all dead....everyone's dead, flesh turned to liquid. It moves...There are things! Moving things! They're alive..." Major Platt looked up at the Doctor. "The caller became incoherent after that and disconnected shortly after." The Doctor drummed his fingers thoughtfully against the top of the aluminium folding-table between them. "Hmm...That really doesn't sound very good."

YEAH YA THINK?

"I was at the opera," the Doctor explained, "when my phone went off."

this is his excuse for That outfit. really just copying everything from grace here huh

THE BEAST OF BABYLON

She also didn't yet know that he wasn't a man at all.

yeah cos he's non-binary duh

"So now we're landing on Earth," he shouted, "two thousand years before the birth of Christ..." "Who?" "He was a bit like Sherlock Holmes. Knew the answers to everything. Very good at solving mysteries. Some humans use him to measure time."

obsessed with the implications of this dialogue...

THE MYSTERY OF THE HAUNTED COTTAGE

absolutely love the concept of this one...a world created from martha's memories of reading a famous five expy as a child

"What?" Martha said defensively, keeping her voice down. "That's how he was described in the books. Don't blame me. This was 1951. Everything back then was blinkered, sexist, and ever-so-slightly racist. It was a backward time." "Ah, yes," said the Doctor, "because 2007 has none of those things."

vibe with this convo

"Am I lonely?" Martha asked. "You're a particle of dust," the Doctor said. "Of course you're not lonely." "I sound lonely." "Well you're not; you're having a great time."

this conversation where the doctor tells martha to imagine herself as a particle of dust has exactly the same kind of energy as discussions you have at 3am at a sleepover

NOTHING O'CLOCK

Amy looked irritated. She wasn't irritated, but she liked to give him the impression she was, just to show him who was boss.

yeah...

ok the villains in this one are actually really fucked up like. it's been a While since i read it now because i procrastinated on making these notes but they were Good creepy. thank you mr gaiman. 

LIGHTS OUT

now THIS is one where the pov heavily contributes to the story...

He turns to look at me with piercing, hollow-set grey eyes, then furrows his impressive silvery brows. "I'm buying a coffee," he says. "For a girl."

so THAT'S why twelve took so long to find coffee for clara......he wasn't buying it on earth. good vibes

TIME LAPSE

i absolutely LOVE the concept for this one, which is that the year 2004 completely disappears from records

A typed envelope reading The Doctor, The TARDIS, Ex-Gallifrey followed by a long string of numbers, letters, and things that probably were letters but looked like they came from about eight different languages.

obsessed with the fact that (i) you can apparently send letters to the tardis, like it has an actual address (mel throwing a message in a bottle into space doesn't seem so unreasonable now huh...) (ii) part of this address is 'ex-gallifrey'

this dude gets rejected. and is so badly embarrassed that he erases 2004 from existence. i promise i'm not making this up.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Chapter 9; Operation time heist planning

*Author’s note*

Hey to all who have been giving my Bad wolf series more credit, thank you soo much for your patience, since I had gotten this done all last night in one sitting I hope you find this part enjoyable esp. since I’ve added the hero who was truly responsible for saving the world, and ALL WITH A HEIST!! Hope you all enjoy this part :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@platawnic

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Steve, Natasha, Bruce who was now a cross over between himself and the hulk now after 18 months in a gamma lab to bring the brain and brawn together, along with Scott Lang were now at the Avengers compound.

“So—who is this other person we’re expecting?” asked Scott.  As he said that, a portal soon opened to reveal Morowa walking through it.

*Morowa’s POV*

“Just who came up with this idea?” Scott jumped back and said.

“Okay….how did you…..”

“Basic portal configuration. It’s basic training every sorcerer must master.” I explained.

“Ahh that makes since.” He muttered. “Also I’m the one who came up with the idea. I’m S—”

“Scott Lang, otherwise known as Ant-man. I know who you are. Nice job with Darren Cross.” He looked at me like he was prideful of that.

“Wow I’ve—never been complimented like that before.”

“Glad you could make it Morowa.” Steve said to me.

“If it means getting my daughter as well as everyone else back, I’m willing to do anything. So Scott explain it to me.”

“Wait, wait hold on your—your daughter?” he questioned.  I went solemn and said.

“Yeah. You met her back in Germany, she was known back then as Bad Wolf.”

“Wait Wolf-girl’s your daughter? Oh my god was—was-was she…..”

“One of the millions to get blipped? Yes. Along with half of her people.”

“Ohh man I’m so sorry. I was worried my daughter was one of the many to get zapped after I came back. I was thankful that she wasn’t….” I turned away and bite my lower lip trying not to cry.  At least one parent didn’t get to have their child taken away.

“Scott.” Nat warned him.

“I’m sorry I—I’m not helping at all am I?”

“Just tell me your plan Lang.” I urged.

“Okay so here’s how it was. Five years ago, during Thanos, I was dealing with some stuff with my—well my…..Hope is….anyway long story short I was in the Quantum realm and she—she was supposed to pull me back but then…..”

“I’m so sorry Scott, must’ve been rough.”

“But here’s the thing. For me in the quantum realm it wasn’t five years. It was five hours.”

“Of course. Time works differently in the quantum dimension. And I said I didn’t believe her. Boy what she would’ve given to say I told you so to my face.” I muttered the last part.

“Who exactly?”

“Never mind. I think I know where you’re going with this. Are you suggesting that if we enter the quantum dimension from this point in time, we can figure a way to travel through it and exit at a different point in time?”

“Yeah like a time machine. How did you know I was going with it?”

“I’ve been taught of the quantum dimensions. It’s one of the billion multi-verses known to the sorcerers.”

“So you’re saying it’s possible to do it?” asked Nat.

“I mean the sorcerers are taught that we can slightly alter each dimension to our will. But no one has ever tried it in the quantum dimension due to its constant alteration but….yeah. I’d say it’s possible.”

“So you’ll help us?” asked Steve.

“Like I said, if it means bringing back my daughter, brother, sister and everyone that Thanos snapped away back. I’m willing to do anything.”

“Alright, Scott pull in your van and I’ll get some of the controls working. Steve get the backup generators running so that way we have extra power in case things go sideways.” Bruce said.  As we walked along, I felt Nat take my arm and she whispered to me.

“You got a minute?” she pulled me aside where the two of us were now alone and she said. “Where’s Rauri?”

“What?”

“Morowa don’t lie to me! When I got off the holo-comm with you the other night you said you’d tell me if Rauri was causing trouble. And Rhodey tells me that not only has Barton killed off a Mexican gang, but some of the bodies have been torn apart, limbs and all. Now I know only two animals that are capable of that and one of them got turned to dust five years ago. So I’m gonna ask you again. Where. Is. Rauri?”

“I think I know now. Believe me Nat for years I had no idea where he or the rest of the chimeras were. Shortly after you all returned from finding Thanos, he and all the chimeras disappeared. For five years I’ve been trying to track them till I did just yesterday. But then Dean tells me that for two years Rauri left them without a note except that he and Mitchell were the Alphas.”

Her face turned from betrayal to shock.  She turned away and I relaxed myself as I told her.

“I’ve heard what Barton has become. Trust me I’ve been there myself. Had it not been for T’Challa and Shuri, I was close to becoming what he is now.”

“So—is it too late for me to help him?” she asked brokenly.  Her voice tremored.

“Not if you get to him first before he completely falls off the rails. There still might be time for him. And with any luck, we might also find Rauri with him. We can bring them both back.” I placed my hand on her shoulder and squeezed it assuringly.

She turned to me and a soft smile spread across her face and the two of us embraced each other.

Later that day, we were doing the final checkups to do a test drive of Scott’s ‘Time Heist’ plan.

“Okay, here we go. Time travel test number one. Scott, fore up…the uhh—the van thing.” Bruce said from the controls.  Scott opened up his hideous brown van which revealed a miniature quantum machine tunnel which activated.

“Breakers are set. Backup generators are on standby.” Steve said as he walked towards us.

“Good. Because if we blow a grid, I don’t wanna lose uhh, tiny here in the 1950’s.” Bruce muttered in a closed mouth towards the last part gesturing towards Scott who was putting on his gloves.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s kidding. You can’t say things like that.”

“It was just a bad joke.” Stammered Bruce. Scott nodded it off and turned away as Nat muttered to him concerned.

“You were kidding right?”

“I don’t have no idea. We’re talking about time travel here. Either it’s all a joke or none of it is.” He muttered to Nat worriedly before proclaiming loud and assuringly to Scott as he gave him a thumbs up, “We’re good! Get your helmet on.” Scott did just that as Bruce then explained to him, “Scott, I’m gonna send you back a week. Let you walk around for an hour, then bring you back in ten seconds. Make sense?”

“Perfectly not confusing.” Scott nonchalantly said with a wave of his hand.

“Good luck Scott. You got this.” Said Steve.

“You’re right. I do Captain America.” And with that he vanished into the quantum tunnel.  

Then as he began striking some buttons, Bruce said.

“On a count of three. Three….two….one!” he then turned a switch and soon someone came back.

“Uhh guys?” It was a teenage boy. “This—this doesn’t feel right?”

“What is this?” Steve questioned.

“Who is….who is that?” Nat asked confused.  As Bruce began to try and punch more coordinates in I asked.

“Is that Scott?”

“Yes it’s Scott.” He said before suddenly disappeared and as Bruce tried to figure out what was going on, someone else came back, this time an old man.

“What’s going on, Bruce?” asked Steve.  Old Scott complained about the pain in his back.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Hold on a second.” Bruce muttered as he frantically tried to fix the problem. “Could I get a little space?” he asked Steve who immediately complied as he asked him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you bring him back?”

“I’m working on it.” With a few more clicks, beeps, and banging of the side computer, old Scott went away to reveal another shocking surprise.

“It’s a baby.” I bluntly stated.

“It’s Scott!” Bruce exclaimed to me.

“As a baby!” Steve argued.

“He’ll grow!” Bruce argued back.

“Bring Scott back now!” I demanded.

“When I say kill the power, kill the power.” Bruce urged to Nat.

“Oh my god.” She muttered as she raced towards the power controls.  I took Steve’s hand nervously while Bruce flicked a couple of switches before telling Nat to kill the power.  She did and soon coming out looked like Scott but I was worried Bruce did something to him to mess him up even more.

“Somebody peed my pants.” He said.

“Oh thank god.” I sighed with relief. Present Scott was back.

“But I don’t know if it was baby me or old me……Or just—me me.”

“Time travel!” Bruce proclaimed with his arms spread out in victory.  Steve and I just looked at him. “What?” I sighed and turned away pinching the bridge of my nose while Steve walked away. “I-I see this as an absolute win.”

“Never send a scientist to do a sorcerer’s job.” I muttered as I walked out.

As the day went on, we called in reinforcements. Rocket and Nebula, Rhodey and then in two teams we were gonna gather Clint, Rauri and Thor.  Rocket and Bruce agreed to go out to Norway where the rest of the Asgardians settled after arriving here from the Thanos attack they endured in order to get the Space stone.

Meanwhile Nat and I were coordinating where Rauri and Clint were planning to strike next so that we’d be able to find them and hopefully stop them before they continued on their massacre spree.

“Okay so what we know so far is that they’ve seen to attack every major country that still has a high level of violence.” Natasha said.

“Right and according to Rhodey the two of them hit Mexico together. I’m not sure about Rauri’s killings but he said Barton so far has hit Hong Kong, Mexico, Brazil and Guatemala. So all that’s left is North Korea, northern Russia and Japan.”

“Wait, hang on a second.” She then typed away and pulled up an article about one Akihiko Daito.  Runner of the Japanese yakuza.  Due to business going slow in the sex trafficking world, he’s now switched to drug and illegal weapon dealings.

“You think they’re gonna hit Japan?”

“Only one way to be positive. We gotta go now.” We then hopped in the quinjet and took off as fast as we can.

*3rd Person POV*

It was nightfall in Tokyo, Japan, rain was pouring down from the sky like a waterfall. The lights shined on the streets of Tokyo where Akihiko’s building was at.  However the calm streets were nothing but a rouse, for inside Akihiko’s business building gunfire blazed, and a litter of bodies were sprawled all over the ground.

“It’s them! They’re after Akihiko!” One of his men cried out as he fired his Sten rifle only to suddenly drop dead after some shuriken went right through his neck thrown by a cloaked stranger.  As more men tried to stop the men in the hooded cloak, they kept dropping like flies all because of him.

When one gave chase after him up some stairs, suddenly a huge mass of black fur leaped right at him snarling before ripping his neck apart, leaving only the sounds of choked gurgling to echo throughout the room.

Men crashing through glass, blood curling chokes, wolf snarls, and gunfire was the only music that came out of that building. Soon the yakuza leader Akihiko jumped out from the third floor window followed by the hooded figure.  

Both men landed on their feet standing just a few feet from each other.  Akihiko turned around towards the hooded figure and said.

“Why are you both doing this? We never did anything to you two!” As he spoke, he soon took out his katana ready to battle.

“You survived…..Half the planet didn’t. They got Thanos. You get us.” The hooded figure stated as he took out his own sword ready to battle the yakuza leader.

The two then attacked each other in quick, fast strokes, their swords clashing with each other’s.

“You’re done hurting people.”

“We hurt people?” Akihiko held his arms out in disbelief gesturing towards the bodies that littered the streets. “You’re crazy!” He then went for a side swipe but the hooded figure caught the blade with his, his own sword supporting the weight of the two sword with his arm before finally breaking apart.  

He jabbed a quick punch to Akihiko’s chest before holding his sword to his neck while the yakuza leader just stood there, not even defending himself.

He lowered his sword before grinning and slapped the cloaked figures sword away before going at him repeatedly with overhead slashes and corner slashes.  It worked on making the cloaked man move backwards, but only for a moment when he not only punched the yakuza in the face, but managed to cut into Akihiko’s side. Akihiko slowly turned towards the figure before placing his sword against his palm in the traditional Japanese way.

He cried out before going right at him but that was his downfall for the cloaked man also cried out and cut Akihiko’s throat. At this point he knew he had been beaten.  He collapsed to his knees holding his hand to his throat hoping to stop the bleeding, gagging on his own blood.

“Wait! Help me! I’ll give you both anything! What do you both want?” At this point coming out of the darkness and soon being illuminated by the neon lights of Tokyo, the giant black wolf holding a human hand in its mouth dropped it before slowly approaching Akihiko.

His fangs dripping red and his eyes so black they weren’t even there.  He got right up into Akihiko’s face snarling and opening his mouth threateningly at him, like he was about to rip his face apart.

“What we want, you can’t give us!” the hooded figure spoke in English before finally delivering the final stab, killing Akihiko. Ending the last of the Japanese Yakuza.

As he wiped the blood from his sword, the hooded figure looked to the wolf and nodded.  The black wolf went down to pick up Akihiko’s body to devour it, but before he grabbed it, he suddenly turned around and snarled, seeing that someone was now standing behind them.

The figure took down his hood and removed the all black mask to reveal Clint Barton.  But his appearance was different.  Each side of his head was shaved off, leaving just the tuff at the center, giving him that mohawk kind of look.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said without turning around, because he knew just who it was.  Or at least one of them.  For standing under two umbrellas were Natasha and Morowa.

“Neither should you.” Said Nat.

“Both of you.” Added Morowa staring mostly at Rauri. Clint turned towards Nat, his eyes were cold and soulless with dark bags of deprived sleep.

“I’ve got a job to do. And this wolf offered his help.”

“Is that what you’re calling this? Killing all these people isn’t going to bring your families back.” Natasha tried to reason. Clint remained silent while Rauri continued to lowly snarl at the two women before him.  “We found something. A chance, maybe.” Natasha said as she slowly walked towards them.

Then on a dime as Clint looked up at Nat his eyes went from cold to utter despair.

“Don’t.” he bluntly said.

“Don’t what?” asked Nat.

“Don’t give me hope.” Trying to hold back her tears, she told her dear friend and brother.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you sooner.” Clint looked down helplessly while Nat reached out and took his hand, this time Clint didn’t refuse as he clenched her hand back.  Morowa soon tried to walk towards Rauri who had ceased his snarling and took off running down the alley.

“Rauri.” She didn’t have to run far because he had only turned the corner and hid himself behind an abandoned truck.  “I know you’re in there, so listen; I know—I know things hadn’t been easy since…..you know. But what Natasha said is true. There may be a chance to bring back everyone. Your friends, your family, your wife.”  

She slowly approached the giant black wolf that towered over her by at least 4 inches past her head.

‘It can’t be undone.’ His collar spoke out.  For the first time in years actually.

“It might.”

‘No.’ he looked to his mother in law with sad eyes, his ears bent backwards in shame as he finally spoke out. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

“Then what did you mean?”

‘Once a bad wolf goes bad, it cannot be undone. How—how can you forgive the beast I’ve become?’  Morowa looked at her son in law with empathy in her eyes.

“I’ve already lost two daughters to last a lifetime Rauri. Don’t make me have to go through the pain of having to lose a son too.” She slowly raised her hand up and gently touched him right between his eyes before slowly stroking upwards.  As she did that, his wolf fur slowly shrunk.

His paws and wolf legs turned into human limbs and finally for the first time in over 2 years, Rauri was human again but his appearance had changed too.  

Instead of the wild, shoulder length hair, it was now cut like a normal men’s style haircut, kinda sleeked back like a 1940’s hairstyle, he was also clean shaven with no trace of a beard whatsoever, and his eyes much like Clint’s held despair, heartbreak, and sorrow.

Morowa slowly wrapped her arms around her son and held him tight and he embraced her back.  Burying his face into her shoulder, clinging onto her like a small child as he allowed tears to fall down his face.

[ghoulangerlee]

Lying next to you, in this bed with you, I ain't convinced ; malex ; r: e

hello roswell new mexico fandom, im lee and hopefully this passes muster.

im gonna be honest here, i started writing this before i sat down and watched the entire series (cause at first i just watched alex/michael scenes lmao).

this takes place the morning after, as a ‘what if isobel didn’t come to michael’s place so early’ or what i titled the doc ‘what if isobel didn’t come to advance the plot’ there is an ao3 version but im not linking it here bc i want this to show up in the tags hh

its been a few months since i last wrote porn, esp for a new fandom so. also, im hoping that the more i write them the better i get w/their voices. hopefully y'all enjoy!!! <3 

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He wakes slowly, silently cataloging the ache in his thighs as something damn pleasant after a good night, though the twin ache in his knee and hand are not, he chooses to ignore those in favor of the gentle pressure of fingertips against his skin, dragging a slow path upwards until he stirs more, eyes fluttering open and—

“You’re still here,” he whispers, reverent, surprised and all around delighted, when Alex smiles at him, a soft thing that reminds him all too well of their days together as teenagers.

Alex’s fingers find his lips, tracing the shape of his lower one oh so carefully, and Michael’s eyes slip half-lidded, “Well,” he says, tone playful though his voice is low, mindful of the calm that’s settled over them, “It was kind of too late to leave last night,” he mumbles, moving closer, “And despite the mattress leaving a lot to desire, the choice in bed partner, on the other hand…” he trails off meaningfully and Michael’s heart swells as he tilts his head up to accept the kiss Alex presses to his mouth.

When they pull apart, Michael feels lighter, calm, head sinking into the pillows as Alex presses a series of soft kisses to his jaw and his fingertips are back again, drawing a slow line down his chest, “Do you have anywhere you need to be?” he asks on a sigh as Alex’s warmth shifts against him, on him, blanketing him in.

Alex kisses him again, longer and slower, an all-encompassing thing that leaves Michael light headed and breathless, fingers digging into Alex’s hips where he’d settled his hands, “Not for another few hours,” he mumbles against Michael’s lower lip, “You?”

He makes a noise in his throat, shakes his head once as a swell of emotion bubbles up in his chest, threatening to explode when Alex shifts up, pressing a kiss to his forehead, temple, fingers brushing the hair out of his face, “Michael,” Alex whispers suddenly, “Michael, open your eyes.”

A noise leaves him, and he grips Alex tighter, but his eyes open, a slow flutter, like he’s afraid, like if he blinks too fast, Alex will disappear.

Alex is still smiling, a soft and fond thing, “There you are,” he says, cupping his cheek, thumb gentle against his skin, “Just wanted to make sure you were still with me.”

“Feels like I might be dreaming,” Michael mumbles before he can stop himself, “Feels like just yesterday you were sayin’ that this couldn’t happen again.”

A frown settles across Alex’s mouth, his thumb stopping its slow motions across the curve of his cheek and Michael’s afraid that he’s said something wrong, tightens his fingers on Alex’s hips as if to keep him there when he inevitably pulls away—

“I did,” Alex concedes, moving closer, leans in to press a kiss to Michael’s forehead, “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean, when I saw you again I—I didn’t know how to react, how to, how to feel,” he breaks off, settling his weight more firmly on Michael’s chest, “We’re not the same kids we used to be, Guerin,” he adds, fingers finding Michael’s curls. “You and I, we’ve been hurt, by a lot of people—by each other.”

Michael doesn’t say anything, his words stuck and heavy in his throat as he holds Alex tighter.

“I will…probably spend the rest of my days regretting that I left you,” Alex says, low and mournful, his voice cracking towards the end. “That I walked away after what my dad did to you, that I let him, that I let him get to me. Blackmail me into joining up and leaving you here without even telling you how much I care about you.”

Michael exhales, shaky and unsure as he moves one of his hands up to grip Alex’s hair, dragging him in for another kiss, feeling the way Alex just sinks into it, the swell in his chest growing with each drag of their lips together.

When they break apart, Alex’s cheeks are flushed, head bowed down against Michael’s, “Guerin,” he breathes out, palm spread out over his chest, right above his heart, “Michael,” he mumbles, “I want to, I want this, I want you, but we need to talk about this. There’s so much—just so much that needs to be said before we do anything, but god,” he lifts his head, eyes opening slowly so he can stare down at Michael. “God, I want you so much.”

A noise, something close to a whine leaves Michael’s throat as he tightens his fingers in Alex’s hair, pulling in a way that has Alex gasping, leaning back into it and if he thinks, if he thinks hard enough he can remember what Alex looked like on his knees, urging him to pull his hair in the quiet of their toolshed.

Something falls to the ground and Michael makes another noise in his throat as he drags Alex close for a kiss just as Alex turns away, his lips falling to his cheek instead, “Guerin,” Alex mumbles, fond and teasing. “We need to talk, talk now kiss later.”

And there’s a part of Michael’s brain that knows that, but the bigger, more dominant part of his brain is scared of talking, of what has to be said, of what that could lead to, because words have never been his thing—math equations and formulas were; words were Max’s thing and Michael, well, Michael had a tendency to speak before thinking things through and despite his best intentions—

“Michael,” Alex mumbles, pressing his palm to his cheek, “Hey, come back to me, yeah? I know you’re over thinking things right now. That big, beautiful brain of yours is running through hundreds of possibilities—”

It’s ridiculous how well Alex knows him.

“—but I promise, that I’m not going to walk away from this, not this time. I want to try this with you. I want to be someone you’re proud to be with.”

Of all things, that’s what gets Michael’s attention, the self-deprecating twist to Alex’s words, a harsh breath leaving him as he opens his mouth, “Don’t, Alex.”

It takes him a minute, he’s loud and brash on his best days, words spilling always with a hard edge that can sometimes cut, but he reels that in, steels himself, fingers going gentle in Alex’s hair, cupping the back of his head instead, “Don’t talk about yourself like that, don’t—I’ve always been fucking proud of you. From the moment I kissed you for the first time, I’ve never been—I’m not scared to be with you Alex.”

“Michael—” Alex starts, but Michael shakes his head, cuts him off.

“No, listen to me Manes,” Michael starts, a hard edge to his voice softening into something sad and painful, “There has never been a moment that I don’t think about you. The last ten years have been fucking hard. Not knowing if you were alive or dead, if you’d even come back here,” he breaks off, draws in a sharp breath, takes a moment to collect himself. “We left things in a shitty way. You disappeared and that hurt, and then, all at once, you were back. You’re here and, and fuck if I know the right way to go about this, I don’t think I’ve—you were the only thing in the world that made sense to me back then and now, now you’re still the only fucking thing that makes sense to me.”

Alex doesn’t say anything this time, just threads his fingers into Michael’s hair and pulls him in for a kiss, slow and full of something, something like love, a low sound leaving Michael as he holds Alex—and around them, things start to float, a ripple rushing through him as he opens—figuratively and literally, to what Alex is offering. A second chance.

A second fucking chance.

When they break apart this time, everything falls with a clatter, but neither of them pays attention to it, and Michael drags his thumb over Alex’s cheek, “You are my quiet in this crazy, unknown world,” he whispers against Alex’s mouth. “Being around you, being with you. It keeps me grounded.”

Alex exhales, resting his forehead against Michael’s, “Michael,” he whispers, voice full of something, “Michael, I want to do this right. I want—if you’ll have me—I want the chance to love you. To give you everything you’ve missed these past ten years.”

(And later, later, Michael will make a joke about how this is the most Alex has called him by his first name in years, but right now he revels in it, soaks it all up because part of him is still worried that Alex will change his mind and—and—)

Alex kisses him again, goes with him when Michael rolls them over, pressing him down into the bed as the kisses turn into something deep and all encompassing, grounding in a way that negates every single bad thought firing off in Michael’s brain.

“I meant what I said,” Michael mumbles a bit later when they’ve pulled apart, “That day in the tool shed, when I told you I’d never done something like this, with someone I liked as much as I like you.” He licks his lips, carefully chooses his next words, “I never in a thousand years expected that I’d deserve something like this. That, all the pain and suffering in my life would lead me to meeting you. That all of that would give me some of the best memories in my life.” He rests his forehead against Alex’s, breathes in softly, “And sometimes, I look at Isobel and Noah and I—fuck—I want what they have.” He closes his eyes, exhales loudly, “I want that with you, Alex. However long that takes, however long we last. I want our eventually to be that.”

Alex laughs and its sort of wet sounding, almost a sob, “Guerin, it’s too soon to talk about marriage,” he teases, fingers in Michael’s hair. “God, it’s too soon but damn if I don’t want that too.”

Michael licks his lips, stares at Alex for a moment, “Then let’s not talk anymore.” he says, leaning down for another kiss, and Alex, wisely, doesn’t pull away this time, lets Michael kiss him until they’re both breathless, panting.

Alex’s eyes flutter open slowly, a smile across his lips as he drags his fingertips down Michael’s cheek, “I think we can pick up where we left off earlier,” he mumbles, leaning up to press a kiss to the hollow of Michael’s throat when he tilts his head back.

“Yeah?” Michael asks with a sigh, “You up for another round already?” the tease is light, and Alex can hear the grin in his voice.

A hum of agreement leaves his mouth as he hides his own grin against Michael’s throat, “I think so,” he says softly. “If you are, cowboy.”

“I’m always ready to throw down with you,” Michael croons, grinding his hips down against Alex, slow and dirty in a way that has Alex gasping, arching up against him. “Oh, Private, you’re getting hard.”

Alex makes a noise, something between a whine and a groan, tangling his fingers into Michael’s hair and pulling him down, “Don’t call me that, Guerin,” he mumbles against his mouth, biting Michael’s lower lip as he laughs, the sound turning into a gasp.

“Why you—” Michael says, but gets cut off when Alex kisses him again, stealing the words directly from his mouth. “—you keep distracting me,” he says when they part and its almost a whine, “If you want to do more than just rub against me like a teenager you’re going to have to chill out.”

Alex just arches under him, grabbing Michael’s hips so he can grind up into him, “I am very chill,” he says with a soft groan, “I’m the coolest right now.”

Michael laughs again, light and happy as he leans in to mouth at Alex’s throat, “Uh huh, babe,” he mumbles. “Sure you are.” He doesn’t move to stop Alex though, just lets him move, “You know I’ll take care of you, right? Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Yeah,” Alex whispers, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, “Yeah, I just—I want so much.” He admits softly, dragging his fingers up Michael’s back, biting his slightly swollen lower lip. “I want everything, but I feel like I’m too wound up to wait.”

He hums, slips his hand between their bodies and wraps his fingers around Alex’s dick, taking in the way Alex absolutely shudders at his touch, “Then let’s take the edge off,” he murmurs into his skin. “Just like this. And then, when you’re a little less impatient, I’m going to open you up again, just like you like it, baby. Gonna finger you til you’re beggin’ me to fuck you.”

Alex whines, hooks his leg around Michael’s hip and thrusts up into his hand, “Faster Guerin,” he breathes out, letting out a pleased sounding moan when Michael complies with no argument or teasing. “Oh fuck,” he says, fingers digging into hard muscle. “Just like that.”

Michael tries, tries to ignore the voice in his head telling him to mark to claim, but he can’t, can’t stop the sweet sweet pull of mineminemine as he sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin just under Alex’s ear—and Alex jerks in his hand, crying out as he comes between them, Michael’s name falling from his lips.

He goes to pull back, to give Alex some space but Alex makes a noise, drags him back closer, pulls him in for a kiss, sloppy and uncoordinated but Michael’s heart soars as he returns it, holding Alex’s head still, leading him, because this, this is what he’s been waiting for.

“Jesus,” Alex mumbles, breathless, when they pull apart. “Michael,” he whispers, voice full of something as he reaches down between them, feels the hard press of Michael’s dick against his thigh. “I want this in me,” he licks his lips, opening his eyes so he can stare up at Michael, “Want you all the time, in whatever way you’ll let me have you.”

Michael groans, half pained, half aroused, “You’re going to kill me, Alex,” he says, diving back down for another kiss, something messy but chaste, before he’s pulling away again, fumbling around under the covers for the lube, “Shit, where’d I leave it—” he trails off, making a triumphant noise when he finds it wedged between the bed and wall. “You sure you want this?”

Alex makes a frustrated noise, fighting back the urge to move closer when Michael pulls away, “Michael Guerin, I swear if you don’t get your fingers in me right now I’m going to do it myself.”

“Now now,” Michael says, popping the tube open, “Let’s not be hasty here, darlin’, consent is sexy and all that.” He’s teasing now, but Alex knows that, now that he’s come once, the edge is gone, and he can enjoy this. The easiness of sex with Michael coming back to him.

“Your fingers in me is sexier,” Alex grouses, “C’mon Michael, I know you wanna fuck me.”

Michael’s laughing again, warming the lube up between his fingers, “Uh huh, I know,” he says. “God, ten years didn’t teach you patience, did it?” he asks, leaning over to press a quick kiss to Alex’s mouth as he presses his fingers to Alex’s hole. “You’ve always been so bossy,” he mumbles, easing a finger into him. “Jesus, you’re so fuckin’ tight, Manes. We fucked last night and you’re still tight.”

Alex gasps softly, pressing his head back into the pillows, “Really good workout regimen,” he fires back, squirming down against Michael’s hand. “Ah fuck, and yes, I’ve always been bossy. You should know that I’m only this way because someone wants to tease me.”

“Oh,” Michael says, pulling his finger out, a teasing grin on his lips, “Wonder who that could be.” He ponders, drawing slow, slick circles around Alex’s hole with his fingers. “Do I know him?”

“Oh fuck you, Guerin,” Alex says with a groan.

Michael hums, “Well, if you’re offering, maybe you can sometime.”

Alex makes a strangled noise, rocking down against Michael’s fingers, “Michael, please,” he mumbles, nearly begging. “Wanna feel you again, need to feel you again.”

He prides himself with how well he knows Alex’s body, his reactions, and when he hears his voice crack on the need, he hushes Alex, moves close to him as he presses a finger inside, drawing him into a slow kiss.

Alex is shaking by the time Michael has three fingers in him, touch firm but gentle as he stretches him, the two of them trading kisses until Alex pulls away with a soft gasp, “Now,” he whispers. “Now Michael, please.”

He makes such a pretty picture, Michael thinks, all spread out under him, chest heaving, flushed from his cheeks down to his chest—and fuck if Michael’s not the luckiest guy right now, but he files that thought away for later, something to think about when they’re not in the middle of this—and instead he focuses on the low whine Alex makes when he pulls his fingers out, how he opens his mouth to protest but stops when he notices Michael grabbing the lube again to slick himself up.

Alex’s eyes are dark as he watches Michael settle properly between his legs, one hand around the base of his dick, the other spreading Alex open, thumb pressed against his rim, “Do it,” he breathes, begging Michael. “Fuck me, Guerin—Michael, I need you.”

The rushing in his ears quietens the second he pushes into Alex, a crescendo of silence blanketing the room—the fizzle of electricity and fuck, something about this moment, about being inside Alex Manes when their feelings are out in the open causes his powers to fizzle, bottles and miscellaneous objects rattling and levitating and Michael should be worried but he’s not because he’s been waiting for this fucking moment for ten years.

Alex is holding into him, arms wrapped haphazardly around his shoulders as he clings to him, murmuring his name over and over as Michael presses in deep, holds there for a moment just feeling.

“Move, move, move, move,” Alex is begging him and Michael hurries to comply, using his good hand to hitch Alex’s thigh up, holding him open as he starts moving, a slow and slick glide that has Alex arching and crying out, scrambling for purchase against Michael’s skin.

Time melts around them and Michael isn’t sure how long he’s just there, fucking Alex slow and careful, making love to him as Alex whispers his name like some sort of sacrilegious prayer—like he’s deserving of worship.

Alex reaches between them, fingers wrapping around his own dick while Michael continues to fuck him, deep and slow, just the way he likes it, until he’s gasping, Michael’s name falling brokenly from his lips as he comes again, shaking through it when Michael keeps fucking him (also how he likes it).

“You’re so beautiful,” Michael whispers, burying his face into Alex’s neck, breathing him in as his thrusts get rougher, sharper, Alex’s nails digging into his back, urging him closer and closer to the edge.

One of Alex’s hands finds his hair, tangles with his curls and pulls and Michael lets out a broken sound as if he’s a puppet whose strings have been cut—and suddenly, he’s coming with a quiet shout into Alex’s skin.

Neither of them speaks for a while and Michael doesn’t move until he hears the quiet clatter of various objects hitting their respective surfaces; and though Alex doesn’t say anything, he sees a contemplative look in his eye when he finally manages to look up.

“We’re going to talk about that,” Alex finally manages to say, and Michael’s almost relieved to hear that he doesn’t sound distressed, just relaxed, sleepy, and he tells himself not to get too worked up about it—

“Hello, I’ve got bagels!”

Michael groans quietly, dropping his head back into Alex’s neck, “Isobel,” he mumbles, almost whining and for a moment, Alex freezes, before he relaxes. “Why don’t you go see what she wants,” he offers gently, running his fingers through Michael’s hair.

He makes a sort of wounded noise, but goes to untangle himself from Alex anyway, “What about you?”

Alex licks his lips, glances out the small window by the bed and then back at Michael, “Bring me a bagel back?” he asks, hopeful.

“Really?” Michael asks, surprised. “You’ll be here?”

Alex pulls Michael down for another kiss, smiling against his mouth, “Even if I had full use of both my legs, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to move for a while.” He mumbles. “Now go see your sister and then come back to me, yeah?”

Michael makes a sound, something happy, a smile lighting up his face. “Of course,” he says, pressing several kisses to his face before he gets off the bed to pull his jeans on, Alex shamelessly watching him.

“Like what you see?”

Alex just hums, choosing not to answer, pulling the sheets up over him and settling back comfortably in the bed, waving as Michael leaves the trailer and he dozes to the sound of Isobel and Michael’s voices getting further away from the trailer—and well, he should probably be worried or at least curious, but for now, he’s content to lay back and just bask in the afterglow.

[loftyexecutor]

clean slate (12/?)

Pairing: (eventual) addcest [LPDE] & elsain [LKATh] WC this chapter: 3050 Rating: T+ TWs: (past) abuse AU: modern/single parent Lusa (with his tiny son Arc) + runaway Esper Notes: comfrot comfort comfort comfort cofmort!!!

ao3 mirror

Sunlight streams into the room through the window, rays falling at the perfect angle to be visible, if there was someone to look at it. Birds chirp their usual morning songs, carrying them along from tree to tree.

Esper stirs, yawning as he resurfaces from his slumber. His eyes crack open the barest amount and he watches the patches of light dancing along the wall after shining through the tree crowns outside. His eyes fall closed soon after, though, as he snuggles closer to his blanket. It’s so warm…

He isn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but it was probably too little or too much, because he feels groggy and still sleepy. That’s why it takes so long for him to place himself; to realize he is absolute not snuggling up to the usual purple comforter, but to Lusa instead. His immediate confusion is replaced by understanding upon but a minute of thinking. The events of yesterday come back to him all at once, like a tidal wave that makes him want to curl up and disappear.

Seeing his father again had been… And to think he’d come to try and take him back! The taste of bile tickles at the back of his throat when he imagines  all that could’ve happened. What if Lusa hadn’t been at home; what if it had just been him? Would his father have pulled out his favorite gun? What if Arc had been alone instead? Knowing how much father hates children, Esper doesn’t even want to entertain that particular scenario.

And what now — now that father knows where he is? Are they ever going to be safe again? It is all too easy to hire people to do as father would like, such as maid chefs, chauffeurs, or kidnappers…

Why would he want Esper back, though? He’d always lamented his uselessness and never let up an opportunity to remind him of it. Everything was always his fault, from an undusted shelf to father’s decline of stocks. No matter how hard he’d try or how much he’d do, it had never been enough.

So shouldn’t he be happy to have Esper out of his hair? He should be enjoying it, so why was he here, months and months later?

Esper doesn’t know. He just doesn’t know.

Almost unconsciously, he nuzzles himself into the crook of Lusa’s neck. Lusa’s still sound asleep, breathing even and almost inaudible. In the silence only broken by the birds outside, Esper’s mind wanders again.

Even with everything bad going on, he feels comfortable at the moment. Lusa is warm and letting him cuddle this close. Maybe (and probably) he’ll change his mind and kick Esper out as soon as he wakes up and finds that he’s still here. That had been why he’d probably offered this arrangement in the first place, to make sure Esper wouldn’t make another attempt at an escapade.

And maybe that's why Esper wants to take advantage of the moment, a little selfishly. Lusa has an arm slung over his stomach, as if he’d held Esper close during the night. Esper takes a moment to imagine what it would be like to feel this every morning, to wake up in someone’s (Lusa’s) arms, held close and safe.

He regrets it almost immediately. He can’t have that, he’ll never have that. This was a one night thing and — oh god, that sounded weird even in his own head! He’ll be lucky if Lusa isn't angry at him. He had made both him and Arme and Knight worry last night, after all.

They might all come to hate him. Lusa had begged him to come back, but even so, he will surely realize letting Esper stay here isn’t wise. Thought that frightens him, he can’t say he would be surprised in the slightest. He’d even be a little grab, maybe. Just maybe.

The last thing he wants is for Lusa or, god forbid, Arc to get hurt like he had been. They don’t deserve that.

Lusa stirs in his sleep, pulling Esper out of his mental spiral like a cold shower. He tenses up, preparing himself for Lusa’s anger, but the other man just squeezes him like a giant plushie and burrows his head further into the pillow. A breath that he didn’t even know he’d been holding escapes Esper.

He watches Lusa’s face, so peaceful when he’s asleep. He’s drawn to the almost invisible smattering of freckles across Lusa’s cheeks and nose, so light and subtle he hadn’t noticed them until this very moment. Then again, he’d never been this close to Lusa’s face before. He feels a sudden urge to touch them, but he refrains, fearful of waking him up. He’s already pushing his luck the longer he stays so close.

Esper gets a little lost in Lusa’s soft breathing that he almost misses the other actually waking.

Lusa’s eyes flutter open and gaze at him, captivating him with a single look. They’re so pink, catching every single ray of sunlight and reflecting it back ten folds. Esper doesn’t even breathe.

Lusa’s lips stretch into a lazy smile, a soft expression that is so usual for him but so different coupled with the wild bedhead he’s sporting right now. His voice is equally soft, and equally unusual. Esper’s used to Lusa sounding a little gruff in the morning, but it has nothing on what he sounds like now.

“G’morning, Es.”

Esper can do nothing but stare in silence and Lusa laughs, squeezing him again, but this time obviously on purpose. It makes Espers cheeks and chest alike bloom with warmth. Honestly, he wouldn’t be opposed to staying like this all day.

Lusa’s eyes soften and he reaches up to brush Esper’s hair out of his face. “Are you feeling better?”

Esper doesn’t have a definitive answer to such a question and he’d feel bad telling the complete truth. He still feels bad, and he probably won’t just stop anytime soon. “I don’t know,” he says finally.

Lusa’s demeanor doesn’t change at all even when he says that. “How about some breakfast? That might help you decide,” he offers, sitting up with a groan and stretching his arms above his head.His joints pop with a satisfying crackle. “Plus it’s time to wake Arc, anyhow.”

Esper nods, but doesn’t move yet, not even as Lusa stands and does a few stretches. He makes it look effortless, but Esper cringes inwardly at the thought of even attempting all of that. Which brings his attention to the fact that he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes, and they’re very, very sticky now. They need a wash and he needs a shower, stat.

“I’ll wake up Arc. How do you want your eggs? I’ll get ‘em started.”

“Sunny side up, please,” Esper says as he drags himself out of the bed, finally. Lusa disappears downstairs and Esper is left alone, staring at the conjoined bathroom’s door. He can’t find the energy to stand and go to the shower, but he knows he has to. His clothes stink of yesterday’s sweat and misery and his face must be a mess after all the crying he’d done; again.

Eventually he does kick himself into getting up and into the shower. The hot, borderline scalding water feels heavenly on his skin. He’s glad he’s decided to shower as soon as he steps foot into the shower.

He does feel a little better when he gets out, smelling of Lusa’s shampoo and body wash and strategically stealing one of his shirts from the drier pile because he’d forgotten to bring his own spare to change into. And he’s sure as hell not going out into the hall naked, thank you very much. He even looks forward to the promised breakfast; Lusa had been right, maybe some normalcy will calm him.

The house is filled with Arc’s excited chattering when Esper goes down the stairs, a towel slung over his neck and hair all over the place as it dries. Arc is sitting at the table with his new blow pens, vigorously blowing red color onto a picture in front of himself. On a closer look, Esper sees it’s a picture of Knight, and the blow pen had completely ruined half the paper with ink, but Arc looks so proud of himself, red in the face from all the blowing, gasping for breath.

“Es! Morning!” he greets, holding the paper up for Esper to see better. “Look! Look!!”

“Its very pretty, Arc. When it dries, why don’t you find it a place on the fridge museum of art?”

Lusa laughs from where he’s flipping shrips of bacon on a pan, glancing over at the two of them. “You should draw Arme too, so this Knight isn’t lonely,” he suggest — and he doesn’t even have to look to know Arc’s face lit up like a neon sign at midnight, or how facst he dug for another piece of paper to do just that.

Esper sits next to him and watches as Lusa cooks for all of them. He never sends a mean look his way or even looks annoyed at having to do it himself. He een starts humming a song somewhere along the line as he plates the bacon to the already made eggs.

He presents the plates like a waiter at an expensive restaurant, complete with a curtsy and a ‘bon appetite!’ Esper rewards him with a chuckle —it’s more than obvious that Lusa is pleased with it and with himself.

Arc digs into the meal after squirting way too much ketchup onto the edge of the plate and knocking no less than five markers off the table. It feels like a normal morning when his father starts berating him even while picking up the markers instead of his son.

Esper kind of wishes they could all just pretend yesterday didn’t happen.

—————————————————————————————

They can’t — of course not.

Truthfully, Esper likes the fact that Lusa actually talks to him about things, but right now he isn’t ready to face the fact that he had hurt Lusa, or the fact that Asker could’ve hurt so much more than just any of their feelings. But Lusa is hellbent on having the conversation, and calls Esper over to the living room when Arc runs off to draw more, already looking up pictures on his tablet to copy.

Lusa pats a spot next to himself on the couch. Esper reluctantly takes it.

“Well?” Lusa starts, turning the TV on and flipping through the channels. He lands on the cartoon channel and it provides some much needed background noise. “Do you feel a lil better after eating? It’s okay if not, you know.”

Half of Esper wants to say no because he’s still stressed and scared, but the other half has to admit he does feel better than he did before the whole getting-out-of-bed thing. He lands on a simple, “Yeah.”

Lusa nods, looking at him from the side instead of straight on. Esper isn’t sure if it’s intentional, but it makes him less skittish, knowing he isn’t being watched the whole time.

“So… about yesterday, I wanna—”

“I’m sorry,” Esper jumps in, his fingers feeling like they’d pop right off if he stopped interlocking them. “I’m sorry… about scaring you and— and running off with Arc. I didn’t want him to get hurt and I wasn't thinking. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, c’mon, listen to me for a sec, ‘kay? It’s actually me who wants to apologize,” Lusa wraps an arm over Esper’s shoulders and pulls him a little closer, but it’s such a Lusa-esque move — soft and more nudging than anything, and Esper is sure if he shied away at all, Lusa would just let go and not even comment on it. But Esper falls onto his shoulders without any resistance whatsoever, nestling himself and happy to know he’s still accepted there.

“You didn’t do anything,” Esper tells him, looking down at where he’d started picking at the sleeves of his borrowed shirt. Yet another thing Lusa hasn't commented on. Thank god.

“No, I did. I should’ve suspected something was up as soon as he said he’s here because of you!” Lusa looks down as well, watching Esper’s fingers tugging at the black lem of the sleeve. “If I’d known it was your father sooner— I should have known. I shouldn’t’ve let him in.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“You’re family, you’re got… similar hair and—”

“You also have similar hair to me! Please don’t blame yourself, Lusa. I’m just glad no one got hurt this time.”

“Except him.”

Lusa still sounds so proud of himself when saying it that Esper is reminded of what actually happened. Or what Lusa had claimed happened.

“You really—” He swallows heavily, fighting with the lump in his throat. He remembers what had happened when he had hurt Asker in defense, those few failed attempts at escaping. He never liked stones all that much afterwards. “You really punched him, huh?”

“Broke his nose, Es. I really don’t think he’ll show his face here again.”

Lusa’s managing to stay calm, even proud, but he doesn’t know Asker. Not like Esper does. The dread in his stomach and pumping through his veins is his and his alone.

“He will,” he says softly, because Lusa doesn’t understand, doesn’t know how possessive Asker is of his things, no matter how bad or broken they are. He will come back and he will hurt Lusa like he’d hurt Grace when she had crossed him.

The smell of smoke will forever plague Esper’s nightmares.

“I’m scared he’ll hurt you. He’s rich and he doesn’t know how to stop. He never has.”

“I’m not made of glass, Esper. It’s not like I can’t protect you,” is Lusa’s answer, also so very Lusa-esque. It’s so expected that Esper actually snorts.

“He killed someone, you know.” Lusa’s arm tightens around Esper’s shoulder for a split second before it eases up again. “It’s not worth it to cross him.”

Lusa is silent for a while, staring through the awfully-animated cartoon on the TV rather than actually watching it. “You’re worth it,” he mutters finally.

Esper feels like crying again when the words and their meaning hit him at last, but for once he keeps it inside.

—————————————————————————————

Knight calls him in the evening as he’s making dinner, hellbent on not letting Lusa and Arc eat grossly greasy potato smilies again. He stirs the fry and holds the phone up to his ear.

“Hello, Knight?”

“Esper! I just wanted to check if everything’s okay.”

Knight sounds worried, and from the quick explanation, Esper already knows. Arme hasn't called Lusa all day, otherwise Knight wouldn’t be worried like this.

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

It feels like all he does is apologize, but what else is new when all he does is screw up? He’d done that all his life, but now he has people that get worried instead of angry and though Lusa is doing his best to explain, he still can’t quite comprehend it, or deal with it.

Apologizing for worrying someone else is immensely different to apologizing just to keep punishment and wrath to a minimum. It feels completely different and makes him feel so exhausted with himself.

“No, it’s okay,” Knight tells him they’re all there to tell him it’s okay until it feels okay again. Until his brain believes them. He hasn’t known that luxury before meeting them. “How are you feeling? What are you doing, anyway— I’m not interrupting, am I?”

Esper shakes his head, catches himself and says, “Not at all, I’m just making dinner. I’m better now. Um… Lusa and Arc have been… way too nice, honestly. If I could ask you, could you thank Arme for me once more?”

Knight’s laugh echoes in Esper’s ears. He takes the pan off the heat and checks the rice, deeming it done as well. The quiet hum of the fire and bubbling juices slowly comes to a halt, leaving him alone in the —very good smelling— kitchen.

“I’ll tell him. It’s good to hear you’re okay. I’d’ve missed you a lot if you left, but the others would have as well. And— you know, if your father ever shows up again, you’re not dealing with him alone.”

Esper wants to interject — really wants to, but Knight seems to have thought this little speech over and he doesn’t even have anything constructive to add, so what is the point?

“Yeah, uh— you still there?”

“Yeah,” Esper mutters, still taken aback by Knight’s unprompted show of affection. God, they all really like him, huh? Like, genuinely, really like him, and not just because of what he does all the time. He doesn’t know why it’s hitting him so hard right now, but he knows he’d just jump off a bridge if Asker were to touch even one hair on anyone’s heads.

“Sorry, just… thinking.” an understatement, he’s most definitely overthinking everything right now.

“No worries! I just kinda realized how embarrassing that sounded, so, well. I just didn’t want you to laugh at me,” Knight says, and then laughs himself.

“I’d never laugh at you,” Esper reassures him, but then his lips curl up and he adds, “Not unless one of your kids dragged you again.”

“Hey! It ain’t my fault they take after Arme!”

Esper laughs then, feeling giddy. He can read his friends and know when teasing will be taken for the joke it is, no repercussions.

“Keep telling yourself that, one day you might even believe it. It’s definitely not because you’re such an easy target, nuh-uh.”

“I’m mailing you a fucking glitter bomb as we speak, you fucker.”

“Don’t forget to include a return address so I can repack it and send it back with a new label.”

Knight groans on the other side of the call and Esper knows he’s won this little back and forth. He calls Lusa and Arc to eat the dinner and lets Knight know exactly what he’d made just to hear him whining over being hungry.

It’s entirely too easy to feel like nothing had ever happened, surprisingly. He’s not sure how long it will last, but he allows himself to hope for a long time.

[a-magpie-witchling-sideblog]

Once upon a time

the world was set on fire.

“Rosa, get away from there, they could see you,” a voice urges in a whisper as hasty hands shove the bare minimum into a burlap sack.

A child no more than ten cries quietly and holds the hand of her mother. An older sister steps back from a boarded window. A father counts coins and finds them to be too few.

“The ring,” he says. His wife doesn’t hesitate to hand over the gold band that had united them in marriage years ago. It’s added to the small fortune, which is no fortune at all. Simply all this family owns in this world.

A handful of coins, a ring, each other.

A mouse.

A mouse that blinks his big brown eyes, still watching the world beyond the spaces between the planks, the foggy town before dawn, sitting at the windowsill.

The mother wraps herself and her daughters in headscarves. She gives the room a final glance. “It’s time. Rosa, get Nutmeg. We have to go.”

The older sister offers her cupped palm to the harvest mouse and brings him to her chest, where he scuttles amid folds of clothing to hide between her shirt and her shoulder.

They exit by the back and into a narrow alleyway. The father peeks past, glancing left and right, before raising a hand and indicating for his family to follow.

They walk between the shadows, feet carefully landing. Watch your step. Make not one sound. Breathe not too loud.

They surround the house and pause a moment before the main street. Not too many people are traveling it. That’s a problem. It makes them easier to be spotted.

The father turns. “I’ll take Espe, we’ll go ahead by the church square and pay the boatswain; you and Rosa take the dirt road. We’ll meet at the docks.”

The mother nods and he kisses her on the lips. Hastily and strong and too short for a kiss that could be a last. In a second he takes the younger sister’s hand and they are gone, disappearing into the fog, the echoes of their feet barely there a moment more before they too stop existing.

The mother and the girl, barely grown into her teenage bones, don’t exchange another word. They wouldn’t know what to say anyway.

Instead they wait for a few more minutes and then with stiff postures, lowered foreheads, and hanging bags they also venture into the open.

The girl glances back, her scarf barely allowing her one last glimpse of the house.

It’s an image she wishes not to forget. The stone walls, the twin boarded windows, the blood red mark painted by an unknown hand on the entrance. She wishes also to remember the stark white public note nailed to the wooden door.

By righteous decree of his holiness Archbishop Inquisitor de Ávila let it be known the heretic fugitives known for operating this establishment, their progeny, and all who would dare to aid them have been sentenced by his majesty

Her mother tugs her hand with more urgency and the daughter reminds herself to keep on walking.

Keep on walking, don’t look back.

The mouse presses tightly to her skin as a gentle weight, as a reminder in the cold air before dawn that there are things still warm.

The daughter forces herself to not think of the stake and its fires.

They walk the streets avoiding the eyes of everyone they see. Their steps are fast but not enough to be suspicious.

Sharp corners and detours. Stop every now and then to make sure you’re not being followed. Eyes on the cobblestones, don’t step on the puddles, keep on walking.

Near the marketplace they spot the royal guard.

The daughter tries to pull back and take a different route, but the mother pushes forward. It’s too late now so they walk. They walk and the mother has a smile on her lips, her posture is casual, but the daughter can hear her own blood rushing, her own shallow breaths, her own trembling bones.

The guards have steps like hailstone and the daughter thinks all of their faces look alike. The mouse shivers by her neck as she spots the glint of their swords. Like fangs, she thinks.

Her mother’s hand is tight around her own, and it reminds her she too is drowning, asphyxia enough to make her keep on going, keep on walking, because past the forms of steel and red there’s freedom, there’s air, there’s a boat.

The daughter makes herself as strong as their armors.

Their figures bypass the guards coyly and not a sound is uttered, held breath is not released until much later down the dirt road.

The daughter barely allows herself to press her hand tightly to her trembling mouth for just one second. Just one second. To not let herself cry.

Still she tastes her own tears in her tongue as she sniffs a single, silent time.

Seagulls flying overhead make both females lift their eyes for just a moment. The docks. The docks are near.

The path bends in an ample curve and widens. It descends following the hillside, smaller perpendicular roads lined with houses by each side, and by its end it meets the sea, where the fishermen are already unloading their burdens.

They can make out the silhouettes of the ships in the morning fog and hear the wind and the creaking wood and the waves, the waves kissing the shore. It’ll dawn soon.

Their mute steps become more hurried, the muddy road a tad more slippery. The mouse hidden against the crook of her shoulder sways his tail, tickling her neck. Soon the nightmare will be no more. This is the last time they’ll ever walk this road. This is the last time they’ll be afraid.

The daughter is yanked back by a steel clad hand.

Someone hollers, maybe her. In a fraction of a moment two men are looming over them, glinting steel in the morning light, death in red and silver.

The daughter knows they have been recognized, knows this by the way the guard’s eyes narrow in confirmation as he holds her wrist in a bone crushing grip, pulling her into him as he draws his sword, the other man going for the mother.

A faint shriek.

The daughter watches in horror as her mouse leaps from her neckline and into the guard’s face.

The man lurches back with a cry and the mouse bites and scratches at his eyes, willing this enemy dead, trying with the totality of his small soul to save the girl, just this once.

The guard seizes the mouse and tightens his fist.

The girl hears his small bones snap, hears his breath leave his body, feels his heart stop beating.

His name drops from her mouth in a scream, as if they had just torn one of her own limbs.

His tiny form falls limp to the ground and she has no time to even look.

She thinks, I’m sorry.

Her mother’s voice roars at her back and orange flares like dawn break. The daughter turns as fire gushes from the woman’s hands, making the second guard retreat a step, sword in hand.

Someone yells, “Witch!”

Her mother’s voice is stronger.

“RUN!”

She doubts for a moment too long. The woman grabs her by the forearm and yanks her behind her, into the dirt road, placing herself between the men and the girl.

“ROSARIO I TOLD YOU TO RUN!”

And she doesn’t know why but she obeys. She takes a step back, eyes wide and terrified, and then whirls, sprinting down the hill, with shouting at her back, fire bellowing, her legs going faster, tripping, muddy knees and hands, keep running. Keep running down the hill. Rosa when your parents talk you listen. When your parents talk don’t hesitate. If you see the guards look down. If you’re cornered stab yourself in the throat with the knife you always carry, don’t let them catch you. If they catch you don’t talk. If they burn you take deep breaths, in and out, in and out, breathe the smoke so you fall asleep, so the fire can’t hurt you.

We’re fire witches, we choose how we burn.

She runs, her steps splashing in the mud, downhill, towards the sea. She stops hearing the guards and her mother.

She thinks, Remember to breathe in and out, in and out.

She thinks, I’m sorry.

She reaches the dock and she hasn’t made a sound. Her temples drum to the rhythm of her heartbeat, just run, just run, just run.

She sees the galiot and her stomach sinks as she realizes what she has done. Her steps slow to a stop and she resolves she must return when two hands grasp her shoulders.

She shrieks as she’s turned forcefully. Eyes meet her father’s face, pale with dread.

“Rosa, where’s your mother!?”

The shame that burns her tongue is so powerful for a second she can’t answer. She just stares at him without finding the way to say what she has done.

I left her behind, the guards got her, she’s probably dead.

She’s probably dead.

The father shakes her out of her stupor. “WHERE’S YOUR MOTHER!?”

She stammers an answer, barely two words as her finger points up the hill, face pale, eyes wide in horror.

It’s then that she notices her sister, old enough to understand death but not enough to expect it. She sees her as she begins to shake.

The father presses a hand to his mouth and a cry dies in the back of his throat.

The daughters realize only too late that he’s dragging them both towards the boarding dock.

“D-dad! We have to, we have to help mom!”

“There’s no time. Boat’s about to set sail,” his voice is low and firm. He pulls the bags form his shoulders, gives them to the elder daughter. “Don’t tell anyone your names. They’ll take you as far as Nissa. Keep going west. There are news of refugees settling in Genua and Vesuvia. There’s fruit, cheese, bread, some wine; trade-” he forcefully grabs the younger one’s face to make her direct her horrified eyes to him instead of the dirt road. “Trade the jerez for money. Your mother’s silk gloves could be worth something. Be smart.”

“D-dad,” the younger girl stammers.

He holds the base of her skull and kisses her hard on the forehead, his brow knit tight. “Listen to your sister. Be good.”

“… You’re not coming,” whispers the older girl, her voice strangled, as if she couldn’t believe the filthy lie she has just uttered.

The father doesn’t lie. “We could only afford two spots-”

“What…?” The little one whispers.

“No…”

“They’ll hang the crew if they find out they’ve been smuggling evacuees out of the city. Lay low, stick together-”

“No… No, dad! NO!” The younger sister breaks into frantic sobbing.

The eldest tries to reason with him. “Dad, no. Please, don’t- There’s gotta be something-”

“Rosario!” He grabs her wrist hard enough to bruise. He leans down to her eye level.

The girl blinks away tears, mouth open and chest empty. Her vision tunnels into her father’s face.

As a distant echo she hears her sister screaming unintelligible pleas.

But she knows this is the last time she’ll ever see him and she wants to remember him.

“Listen to me! It’s done! I need you to be strong. Take care of your sister. We’ve done everything we can, it’s up to you now. We can’t keep you safe anymore. Do you understand what I’m saying?” A firm shake. “Do you?” A hesitant nod. He pulls them both tightly against him in a powerful hug. The younger sister screams in agony, claws at his arms, begs and implores, knees going week, but her dad catches her.

Neither of the daughters has ever seen their father cry.

Today they don’t either. They just hear him.

“Your mother and I love you and we’re so very proud of you. We’re sorry we couldn’t do more. We’re sorry… about everything. Please take care of each other.” He stands up abruptly then and pushes them towards the ship where an impatient man hollers and curses, watching the road like a scared dog, searching the fog for any hint of steel and red.

“Go now, go!”

He shoves them up the ramp and the elder daughter hears the world as if she were underwater.

This is not happening.

This can’t be happening.

But there’s her father, on his knees, holding her sister’s shoulders and trying to make her understand, tearing her from the hug she’s thrown around his neck, walking back to the dock. And then there she is, doing as he commands, restraining the little one tightly, crooks of elbows holding armpits, pulling her backwards and onto the boat because that’s what she must do now. That’s what she lives for now. Because that’s what her dad asked her to do.

So her sister kicks and shrieks until her voice becomes a hoarse wheeze, twists and tries to pull herself away but the older one doesn’t let go of her. Even as the little girl bites and claws, even as she threatens with throwing herself into the sea. She doesn’t let go of her.

Even as the sailors let go of the ropes, even as the ship rocks and sways away from the docks, even as the shoreline becomes more and more distant, even as the guards finally reach her father, even as she sees him fall on his hands and knees.

She doesn’t let go of her.

… She still doesn’t let go…

[chinad]

in thick dirt.

Jan 13, 2018

last night dirty spying eyes pestered me a lot. I saw lots of sexual scenarios, esp my familiar individuals around me, like dorm canteen operative woman, a staff of the canteen to whom my laundry outsourced. Its normal dusk when I went to canteen. When I felt good I asked some wine from the operative woman & handed over ￥5 as reward. I just want to be joyful & sharing my gratitude. Then sexual emotion likely aroused in the dorm canteen, esp in the 2 women. After dinner I went to joy as usual. On the road I saw lots of sexual scenes mindfully I once experienced when in doomed love which broke me up back to 2001 when I left Qiqihar to Nankai Univ, Tianjin, seeking my master degree. I know mostly women there love me, and I sometimes inspired by them. But I dislike unreal sex esp out of my loved one. I always pray for my peaceful soul partner, not indecent ones. That heaps of unblessed illusions reminded me this week an elder man I didn't know approached me in my dusk jog twice. He likely the husband of an elder woman who frequented me in my jog and some cases when I on way to visit my son 3 bus stop away. Every time she rode a bike. I at once thought in her elder what business can she have for such a busy route. Especially a time on my way to visit my son, she rested aside street and acquainted me. I just wonder how she made a living wilder around the street. I quit curiosity at once, as none of my business in that moment of probing mind. Now I'm almost sure that the insane elder woman in her show cheating me out her stalking me. Each time she talked to me, her husband, the old gay would appeared in my jog and trying talk to me, but I just reckoned him among QRRS workers once known me for I worked once in their factories soon after I employed, and never lingered more in my mind as unpleasant nod. Now I know the man's real ID. In this week after the insane woman acquaintance on her evasive riding away in my jog, the man stealthily pushed his way aside me arbitrarily, each time in dark area of my route. First time he claimed he noticed me watching my watch, which I never did. I mistaken him as passenger ask for time, so I search my pants pocket for watch to help me, the coward at once exiled, likely thought weapons in my pocket. After 2 days disappeared, he approached me again in front of QRRS square, claimed he noticed my usual route against normal people's there exercise, trying selling his research of me, or proof of his stalking. I just noticed aside a car turning around and the gay shamed then scattered again. I never looked him nor look back. The dirty illusive scenes all likely exerted by the sinful couples, they abused my well behavior. From my poor mother's grass root, I always resolved for poor diligent women, but didn't know the difference between normal elder woman's life, and those of out of shape. Last night I struggled to escape the fallen & dishonored, till I research my chromebook's replacement, new chromebook with android apps. I found amazon China selling this kind of products usually blocked within PRC. In the night I dreamt a lot purchasing the 2 notebooks for my son & my own notebook evolvement. I dreamt fought in sea with 2 battleship with same name derived from new chromebook I found at the e-commercial website. I saw fighting area on their functional dissected deck. When my son & I almost purchased the notebook, I woke up for the emptiness of wanting. God, dad, grant us sooner to have new set of chromebook for our workspace. Bring me sooner my Royal China, esp Asoh Yukiko, my Crown Queen from Japan. Grant us sanctum of love & privacy. Put self-esteem among people I concerned. In the lunar new year eve, grant us securer ownership over our adorable domains, ie renewal.

Jan 4, 2018

dreamt of Elon Musk, or Chinese version of Musk. he interviewed us from job applicant. then we take care of his family: his wife and his only son. an older staff also attending his family. his house in a lofty mountainous architecture, we have to clime in risk to reach it. when we returned to his house, the old staff throw Musk's boy onto a floating cushion, for no other shortcut to transport the kid bare hand in the harsh environment. even dangerous but the boy safely landed onto his house. Musk also challenged us with his famous product design. last night a bit relentless. after dinner in canteen, I first time felt hungry & dorm gate snack vendor out of service. so I bought myself a bread and ate it deliciously after dusk jog & watching TV in my dorm. then I reviewed recent talk to my 2nd elder sister. how she hated me & faked orthodox. I told her about world food crisis report online, she at once responded if I take pills recently. last time decade ago she forced me into asylum with plot with my other siblings, ignored dedicated cares healing. she is a coward, not only she married with a beast and suffered regret all life, also she currently trying push our niece into marriage with her nephew who likely a poor gay. she found her family doomed then tried her best to help attending my kid brother's first son, who turned out much less educated, and left her second son, also a cheap soul, followed my kid brother and successfully earning a life in southern China as my kid brother, and seized himself a tall girl as trophy wife from peasants labor flood there. she consumed my old family so many credit & merit to save her cheap family she once hopelessly sold herself into when she getting old & dependent to my eldest sister who committed suicide in her 30' partially caused by the kid sister who stayed awkwardly in my eldest sister's house after her senior middle school my parents hardly supported. she totally a betrayer & cowardice. then I reviewed all my brilliance lightened so many people in my living sphere, esp my home town villagers, my siblings, our relatives. my powerful influence was a gift of my era, my national atmosphere in which we believe in growth, scientific, and moral uprising under God's shine, ie. Christian, out of people's self-esteem. I saw society mindset and its efforts in molding reality for generations, and my development as the chosen. I review my failing siblings and praying forgiveness, exactly for their painful giving: hurt in guise. I reviewing love of my 3rd elder sister since childhood put me in peace so many decades. our road towards independence past and ahead. God dad, yesterday I almost first time felt panic of hunger. grant me anxious free upon food security. fed me with clean food & safe life. bring me sooner my Royal China and new family in which I likely bring one more child. God dad, bring me my Crown Queen, Asoh Yukiko from Japan, when it matters us. dad, grant us a peaceful and merry lunar new year.

Jan 1, 2018

first dreamt in school. the subject of experiment is to distill starch from stem, for final bean curd or jelly separated from paper tissue. then found I was studying my Doctor degree course. my old family members mostly proud of me. I likely in vacation and visiting my old family's relatives at hometown, Zhudajiu village or local municipal, Wuxue. then found my purse missing. I was very concerned. then my 2 elder sisters help me search in fields for it. we exam carefully every inch of earth, hoping find it back. I was so distressed that I woke up for it and found at once I didn't miss it, but now I can't figure out how my property safe in reality while when I just exit from dream, I know dreamy concern dissolved. This is first day of 2018. after 3 hours I will bring my son to dine out in Qiqihar downtown via groupon and aid financially by alipay credit. the holiday approached so quietly that I didn't prepare. I barely borrow ￥150 for usual weekend reuniting my son from QRRS Dorm canteen. after found my mistake, I search web carefully using the virtual credit to buy service online to make ends meet. in half day I setup alipay, Meituan on my raspberry pi and ordered 3 meals in cyberspace. yesterday we dined dico's franchise. on bus I prayed God allowing our coupon working and our holiday won't run short of cash. when we got there, there were not crowd. our groupon handled perfectly. we enjoy the meal so much. in fact, my deficit of meat healed quickly. I told my son Warren Buffett advises that youth should refrain from debt, and how Taiwan people inspire me, including dico's service. I urged him we are blessed to visit the franchise more frequent for it's just in its wane due to PRC economic hard problem, and eroded customer base among both richer Chinese and average Chinese family, for expenditure power just wears away in sinking PRC. I felt lucky to be served by the fast food chain in time when it's still graceful, and sale girls still so decent. I also told my son how I satisfied by my charity activity to offer a laid-off motorcycle worker begging for his hard life alongside street, on way my visiting my son, with ￥5: how its cost efficient & my emotional sanctified. after luncheon, we hangout in RT-Mart for my shampoo & toothpaste. my son definitely refused buying goods for him. so we only spend about 60 CNY there, among heavy carts and long queue of people at checkout. dad God, this week I will arrange installment with alipay credit. promise us smooth operation, grant us to complete paying back credit in time in coming year 2018. bring me sooner my Royal China, and my Crown Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko, for my lonely post mid age. grant us more offspring, esp Billing Zhu 's role in anticipated capable of billing, harmony with the Holy. God dad, in this pale morning, You ignite me with this post, let 2018 burning brighter & enlightened.

Dec 25, 2017

dreamt at my hometown village my passed mother sent me among other new enrolled undergraduates into college. my 2nd elder sister also prepared my package at home. there were near dozen of youth passed the entrance exam & enrolled. my nephew, ie. my 2nd elder brother's first son, also the lucky one. I query the richer family's kid, if he travel by airline. most kid will go to their campus via train, while I already had experience by air with my son recent years which let me proud, but I likely took train for poor economy. most of the village kids carried rice in bag. my family also prepared me rice in bag for dispatching, but I managed to persuade my relatives gave up for campus canteen does offer the food. it's touching moment for my elder brother's children never complete their senior education in reality. This is a cloudy morning. I at first felt gloomy, for last week I refrained from my son's anticipated joy of new SWAT suit, and a new pair of boots amid our cyber shopping. but my son likely didn't feel it, at least he didn't refute the spitting coward, the grandma's scorn of coat's qualifies being heavier from put on at once the new clothes' arrival, and also his new boots didn't put on right & sluggy for he didn't leave the high ankle standing, likely his mom & grandma refused guiding him. our only meal together in a week, in the downtown hotel restaurant, also disappointing for it cheatingly remove our once ordered dish with rich meat, replaced with poor quality & quantity meat, after some relentless exchange viewpoint upon our insisted tips for the gorgeous dining hall & cuisine in months. that reminded me time to shift away now that our tips left the hotel boss at a loss. but fortunately our salon buzzed in half hour ago, the shop owner settled our missing renewal in July & admit our membership extends nearly 5 months, values ￥200 after dispute arose last week. that affirms my faith in goodness, understandability of hearts. God, dad, even this month salary removed near ￥400 from usual standard, I still believe year end bonus will surprise me. now new year day of 2018 just a week away, and this wonderful christmas, dad God, reinforce us with plentiness and supportive, remove vain in our materialism seasonal heart. grant me treating my son in next weekend KFC or Mcdonald's or Dico's. shelter us from needy & wanting, instead warm us by powerful & functional of our new gears, esp from US & google. thx Dad.

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