#except my girlfriend is visiting starting tomorrow. so. writing time will be less

[orcelito]

I've been thinking about ITNL 15. I mean this is always how I do it, post a chapter and then immediately start solidifying what the structure of the next one is

I think it'll be shorter than the past two chapters. Just bc I want it to stop at one specific moment (heheh) & then the chapter after is dealing with the fallout.

Which means we should see Wolfwood in chapter 17.

Soon!

[orpheusredux]

Ride the Lightning

Summary: Eddie is hanging out in his girlfriend's bedroom when he discovers something... naughty and delightful.

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader. Established relationship

Warnings: Very, very smutty. No Minors! 18+ only. Canon compliant.

A/N: I have been writing this is fits and starts for weeks, but I just couldn't stop. I meant it to be a quick and dirty little drabble about a boy, and girl and her vibrator, but then I went and got feelings all over it and it turned out way longer than I intended too. Please consider reblogging, it really helps. Also, this way for my AO3 and my masterlists. 5433 wds

“Baby… what’s this?” 

You look up from where you’re lying on your tummy on your bed reading a trashy romance novel to see your boyfriend of six months holding…

“Oh my God, Eddie! Put that back!”

…Your vibrator. 

You met at a punk show in Indianapolis in the depths of Winter. Eddie was working the door, and when you walked up late to meet your pals who were already inside, he’d looked you up and down, given you a wrist stamp, and a wink, and ushered you in without asking for a dime.  

It was almost as if he’d known the way to your heart was free gigs. 

Later he’d “bumped into you” at the bar and bought you a drink. Then you bought him one. Then there were shots with the band. The next thing you knew the two of you were back at your apartment, sprawled across your ratty old sofa, his tongue in your mouth and your hand in his pants. You’d been dating ever since. 

Being with Eddie was both delightfully easy, and head-fuckingly bizarre at the same time. 

First of all, he was a metaller, and you’d only ever dated punks, stoners and on one less than stellar occasion, a party guy from California who wore pastel exclusively. You were not prepared for the level of energy Eddie brought to your relationship, the earnestness and often kind of confronting honesty. He told you he loved you three months in, and then proceeded to spend the next three months showing just how much. 

“I learned the hard way not to fuck around,” he told you once, when you’d pressed him on how he could tell someone he loved them so easily. “I know for a fact you don't always get that tomorrow you're putting things off till. You know?”

Which brings you to the second thing: Eddie was from Hawkins, that town down state that had caught fire and burned to the ground - like the whole town. They called it Indiana’s Centralia, now, after that town out East that’d been burning for 30 years? That was Hawkins. Everyone had been evacuated and there was still a danger zone three miles deep around the place.

Eddie talked about it sometimes, not a lot, but enough for you to know he wasn’t over what had happened to him there. All you knew was he’d seen some shit, been badly hurt and never wanted to go back. Except… as much as he hated the place, as much as it scared him and he never wanted to see it again, it was like he knew one day he’d have to. 

It was eerie, honestly.

He never took off his shirt, either. Not even in bed. You’d felt that the skin on his ribs and chest wasn’t entirely smooth, and once in bed he’d rolled over in his sleep and you’d glimpsed some shiny pink skin at his waist. You knew it had been bad, you knew there’d been fire, but those scars looked… well, they didn't look like burn scars. They almost looked like... well, it was silly what you'd thought. Besides, it had been dark and what the fuck did you know, anyway?

Glimpsing them hadn’t made you any less curious about him, but it did make you stop trying to get him to take his shirt off in bed.

You didn’t know how to tell him that he was safe with you, that he was the best boyfriend you’d ever had. Kind, considerate, thoughtful; that you thought it was quick, sure, but maybe you were falling in love with him. 

He’d introduced you to his only family, his uncle Wayne, who lived in Wyoming now, but came to visit him a lot, and the guys from his band - Gareth, Jeff and Dave - Corroded Coffin.

He shared a place with them in Speedway, you'd stayed there a few times. You loved the guys, really you did, but it was kind of a dump, so you spent a lot of time together at your studio on Canal Walk.

He wasn’t perfect - he could be impulsive, your dad worried about his “fiscal stability”, and for someone with so many secrets, he sure was nosey. 

Which was why he was currently standing in your bedroom holding your goddamned vibrator with a look on his face like he’d just won the sexual lottery. 

In his defense - not that he deserved any - you are the one who left the draw open, which was practically an invitation to pry as far as Mister Sticky Beak here was concerned. But still, a girl could keep some secrets, couldn’t she? 

You leap off the bed and make a grab for it - or try to - before he can push the little black button on the base of the thing. 

Eddie, being Eddie, holds it above his head, just out of your reach and says, “Now now, let's not be hasty,” as you try vainly to grab it.

“Eddie,” you whine and consider elbowing him in the ribs - but the other thing that glimpse of his scars has given you is a healthy respect for his body. You’d rather die than hurt him. You’ll have to resort to pouting and pleading instead. “Give it back. That’s private.” 

You give him a pointed look and hope he’ll pick up what you’re putting down. Naturally he doesn’t. 

“Is it though?” He leers at you, trying not to laugh right in your face. “I mean, I am sort of in charge of delivering the orgasms around here now, aren’t I?” 

You bark a laugh, despite yourself. “Oh, who are you, again? Cruise director of the love boat? My orgasms are my business, mister!” 

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” he says slyly, before putting on the worst - also the most annoyingly accurate - impersonation of you in the throes of passion, pitching his voice just below a falsetto squeak. “Oh Eddie! Oh Eddie, you’re gonna make me… I’m gonna… Oh, oh, oh!” 

Scars be damned, you poke him right in the armpit, and he drops the vibe with an “oof”. You grab it before it can hit the ground, and make to run away with it, but he grabs you - playfully -  around the waist and mock-wrestles you onto your bed. You land on top of him, both of you breathless and laughing by now, the vibe clutched tightly in your fist, up by his head. 

His hands slip down you back, over your hips and he grabs two good handfuls of your ass. In the six months since you started fooling round he has never missed an opportunity to show you how much he loves touching you, kneading your flesh, tracing all your curves. He likes it almost as much as he seems to like being touched by you. It’s one of the things you adore the most about him - he has a healthy respect and fulsome admiration for your big, bouncy body. 

“OK,” he says. “Let’s settle this like gentlemen. Let’s play a game…” 

You squint at him, not trusting him one inch - you trust him completely, but you also do. Not. Not one inch. 

“Like gentlemen, old sport! What what,” you reply, in a mock English accent.

“Let’s play Quid, Pro, Quo.” 

Now, you’ve never played a game called Quid, Pro, Quo before, but he just took you to see Silence of the Lambs last week - you don’t care what anyone says about psychological thriller, that was a dang horror film in disguise - so you think you have a pretty good idea what it means. 

“Ew, Eddie, I am not role playing sexy serial killers with you,” you say, and put up a bit of a struggle to get off him. 

That really makes him laugh, but instead of letting you get away, he wraps his arms around you and gives you a squeeze. 

“Oh Jesus Christ, no. That does nothing for me, either,” he says with a theatrical shudder, that only serves to rub you forcefully all over his body, your soft squishy boobs against the hard, warm planes of his chest. It makes something delicious tingle deep in your core. How’s that for quid pro what-the-fuck-ever, you get plenty of pleasure and enjoyment out of his body, too. 

“No, in my version of the game, we take turns offering each other something we think the other might want, and if they do, they have to…” 

He lifts a hand off your derriere and waves it around suggestively. 

“What like, I offer you a BJ, and if you want one - “ 

“If!” Eddie snorts. 

“ - you have to offer me ‘something of equal or greater value’?” 

“Yeah,” he says with a grin. “Something like that. And then you can counter it with something of greater value again.”

“Like a sexy version of ‘chicken’?” 

“Well, I was trying to make it classy, but we can go with ‘Sexy Chicken’ if that works. My idea, so I start…”

“Nuh huh, Big Fella,” you say, tweaking his chin with the hand not currently holding a goddamned vibe. “Ladies first… OK, what will you give me to get the hell off you.” 

“Oh no,” Eddie replies, nose scrunched up. “I wouldn’t even give you a dime for that. You’ll have to stay exactly where you are.” He grabs your ass again, and kind of settles in with a sigh. 

“Ungh, OK,” you say, rolling your eyes. “What if I… take off my bra.” 

“Without getting off me?” 

“Without getting off you, you perv.” 

He laughs and then bites his lip considering. “OK, I will give you a foot rub. Both feet. On… Thursday, straight after your shift at the coffee shop.” 

You gasp. You work nights at the campus beanery and your feet are routinely absolutely battered by the end of the night. 

Once, early in your courting, Eddie had been waiting for you at your place when you came home from one of those shifts. He’d waited for you to kick off your shoes, and slump in your favorite chair, before kneeling down next to you, and starting to knead your instep, heels, calves and the pads of your toes. Without being asked.

No offence to the many wonderful orgasms you’d shared with each other since you met, but that massage had been better than sex. 

Now that he was working the door at the club more regularly, Eddie wasn’t around when you finish work much anymore, so this offer was kind of a big deal. 

You start reaching behind yourself to unclasp your bra without saying another word -  only to then realize you are still holding the Goddamned vibrator. You chuck it up the bed by the pillows, and he grins down at you cheekily. 

“I’m on a goddamned promise, Munson,” you say, from somewhere inside your tee shirt. 

“Yeah, yeah, you know I’m good for it.” 

His eyes slip over your shoulders and arms as you wriggle and twist, pulling your straps off under your tee shirt and pulling the bra out the sleeve. Through two layers of denim you feel his cock twitch when your unfettered boobs press against his torso. He bites his tongue and sweeps his hands up and down your arms. His gaze is just as warm and soft. 

“Ta dah!” you say, flinging the bra away. You’re immediately jostled a bit by his laughter. “My turn again?” 

“Your turn,” Eddie agrees. 

You take your time thinking, trying to remember some throw away snippet of kinkiness he’d hinted at, or a time when he’d wanted to try something, but  you hadn’t. Finally, you mind settles on a movie you’d watched together one rainy afternoon that had ended in a mind blowing fuck on the floor of your en suite bathroom. 

“I will let you do that - you know - that thing, from 9 1/2 Weeks.” 

Eddie goes very still. “OK, I need to be clear here, are you talking about the striptease?” 

“Nope… the other thing.” 

“With the - the ice and the -” 

“And the blindfold.”

“Holy fuck,” Eddie said, eyes like saucers.  

You cross your hands on top of his chest and rest your chin on the back of them. “I play to win, Munson,” you say, all cocky. 

He laughs at you. “Oh my God, what have I got that would match that?” 

“What indeed?”

He looks at you thoughtfully, reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear tenderly, and then in the smallest voice you’ve ever heard him use, he says, “The next time we fuck - I’ll take off my shirt. I’ll take it off. For you.” 

It’s so not what you were expecting, so not where you thought this teasing, titillating game was going, that for a second you’re too shocked to say anything. Your voice just deserts you, until finally…

“Baby, you don’t have to do that.” 

“No, I know,” he says with a sigh, his eyes slipping away from yours, to focus on a tendril of your hair he’s playing with. “But I also know it’s weird - ”

You do push away from him then, because you’ve suddenly got this horrible weight in the pit of your stomach. Did you give him that idea? Had you made him feel pressured? 

“It’s not weird,” you say. He sits up too, as if he’s going to argue the point. So you stop him, with a hand to his chest. 

“It’s not weird,” you say, firmly. “It’s private. It’s none of my business, it’s - you don’t have to tell me or show anything you don’t want to.” 

He covers your hand on his chest with one of his own. 

“But what - what if I want it to be your business,” he says. “God, that sounded way better in my head. I mean - “ 

You turn your hand, take hold of his and squeeze, nodding for him to go on. 

“I don’t want us to have secrets anymore. I feel like I’m keeping something from you every time we fuck, and I don’t want to any more.”

“Then I’m happy for you to tell me anything you want to tell me. But Eddie, you have to know -” 

His eyes are so big and limpid in the dim light of your room and you just - you don’t want any secrets any more either. 

“You must know I l-love you,” you say finally, tripping over the biggest four letter word in the language. 

He smiles, warmly, but you can’t help noticing there’s sadness there too as he scoots up the bed. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, reaching behind his head to pull the back of his shirt over his shoulders and off. “You really do play to win.”

The tee shirt sails off the side of the bed and then there’s just him, his arms out wide, head lowered so you can’t really see his face, just his mottled torso and the top of his dear, beloved head. 

You knew it was going to be bad, but it’s actually even worse than that. He’s not looking at you, so you have time to school your face into a placid, relaxed gaze, to not to show what you’re really feeling, because you know the shock and horror would hurt him, even if he pretended it didn’t. 

Now you understand exactly why he’d never shown you before; why it took him half a year to trust you with this. You’re honest enough with yourself to admit if you’d seen the ruin of his chest in the first few blushy weeks of your romance, you might have run for the hills. 

Low, on his right side, there are gouges - not burns - angry-looking welts of pinkish, reddish skin that bulge and buckle like an infection that’s healed badly. Dotted around this scar are little rosy contusions, like blood has burst under the surface and congealed there. Deep scores - healed, but puckered - rake across his hip. They look like they could pop open again at the slightest provocation. 

You can’t keep back the gasp that comes when you take in the extent of the damage to his right side, though. There’s almost nothing there but scar; no nipple, or curve of skin over fat, muscle and bone. Instead it’s just a horribly twisted rent in the flesh where those parts of his anatomy should be. 

Without thinking, you reach out - to what? Sooth? Map? Verify? You don’t know - only to pull back before you can touch him. He catches your hand, pulling it towards his ruined pec, flattening your fingers, gently, like he’s trying not to spook you, and pressing them to the skin. 

“It’s OK,“ he says. “It doesn’t hurt. It’s healed. It’s actually…I was going to try and say it’s not as bad as it looks. But, ah, it is - it was - exactly as fuckin’ bad as it looks.”

“Oh Eddie,” you whisper, because there’s really nothing else you can say. The skin under your fingertips is warm and hard, feels rubbery and artificial. You feel what’s left of his muscles flex a little under it.

He lets go of your hand and takes hold of your shoulders. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says, urgently, whispering your name rather than one of his many pet names for you, squeezing your shoulders for emphasis. “Everything they say about Hawkins, the - the fire, the chemical spills. It’s all bullshit. I’ll tell you all of it, one day, if you want. But, it’s a long story. Can we - another time?”

You nod as if you understand, but you don’t. You’re not sure you ever will, or even want to.

“Do they - can you feel me?” You ask, sliding your hands so gently over the scars, touching. mapping each one. 

“Yeah, I can feel you,” he says. “I always feel you.” 

With your hand still on his chest, you kneel up, straddling his thighs, press yourself closer to him, leaning in to kiss to his mouth, slowly and thoroughly, so he knows - so he can be certain - this knowledge changes nothing except to make things more real, more sure between you. 

“I'm so sorry this happened to you. And I am so glad you survived.” You hear your voice catch on that last bit, feel the tears choking up at the back of your throat. 

He makes a soothing sound and wraps his arms around you. 

“I was mad about it, for a long time,” he says, his voice muffled where his face is pressed into your neck. “But - this is going to sound fucking insane - everything that happened brought me here.” 

He leans back and looks up into your eyes. You cup his dear face in your hands. 

“I don’t think I’d change a fucking thing - not even losing my goddamned nipple - if it meant I didn’t get to have you.”  His voice is gentle, soothing, and so full of love he’ll never need to say the words if he just keeps talking to you like that.

You kiss him then, because you’re not sure what will happen if you try to speak. You don’t want to cry all over him. He’d only end up taking care of your messy feelings, when you’re pretty sure he’s got big enough feelings of his own to deal with. 

You lean back and smoothing your hands over his bare shoulders and back to his neck, you say, “so, I guess that makes it my turn again, huh?” 

He barks one of his big braying guffaws, wraps his arms around you and squeezes. 

“Oh, we’re still playing? OK, OK, sure, babycakes. Whaddaya got?“ 

Out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of that goddamn vibe sitting by your pillow. The idea pops into your head before you’ve really thought about the logistics, but once it’s there, you almost can’t get it out. Could you? Should you? Really? 

You pull yourself off his lap and crawl up the bed, collapsing onto your back, the pillows under your head. Eddie twists to watch, and his eyes go soft when you pick up the vibe and turn it over in your hands. 

“What if I… ride the lighting, right here, right now, while you watch?” 

You both stare at each other for a second, until Eddie cracks, snickering like a naughty school boy. 

“Ride the what now?” 

“Ride the - the lightning, baby,” you say, giggling and waving the vibe. “That’s what they call it right? ‘Cause it’s electrical? “ 

“Oh my God, seriously? What the hell have you been reading?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know? 

“I’m pretty damned sure I would,” Eddie says, bemused. He crawls up the bed after you to lie on his side looking down at the little pink vibe in your hands. 

He reaches out, and thumbs the little black button on the bottom. The little thing starts up with a buzz that makes the breath catch in both your chests. Eddie hmms, and runs the tips of his finger over the soft, curved edge. You know he’s picturing it, picturing you spread out for him, pleasuring yourself while he watches. 

“OK,” he says, lifting the vibe out of your hands, and gently rolling it over the curve of your breast. It feels so good, even through your tee shirt, you can’t help squirming a little at the sweet, tingling hum of it. “I see your offer of a wanton display of feminine lust, and I raise you… me fucking you with this - where does it - oh, I see where that goes - me fucking you with this, while we both watch.” 

“Mmmmhmmm.” 

Without saying a word, you start pushing your sweatpants down your legs and trying to wriggle out of your tee shirt at the same time, which ends up getting you all tangled, so Eddie has to put the vibe down and help you get the shirt off.  

“Leave your panties on,” he says, breathless as he lies on his back to thumb open the button on his own jeans and start kicking them off. 

“I think we messed up the game,” you say, as you scoot back on the bed, and watch Eddie pulling off his boxers and socks. “I think I got too many turns.” 

“Hmmm?” Eddie hums, thoroughly distracted by your breasts and thighs, and his eyes are fixed on the damp patch you can feel slowly spreading across the crotch of your white panties. He’s not thinking about the game or his scars, or Hawkins. Just you. The joy floods through you like sweet honey in your veins, warm and delicious. You get to have him, have this. Fuck, yes. Life, God, the Universe - whatever - may suck ass sometimes, but sometimes, it’s also this good. 

He guides you to lie back as he slides up next to you. His cock, half hard and leaking, is pressed against your hip as he leans over you to kiss your mouth. Then there’s a click, and a hum as the vibe starts again. Still kissing you he starts to roll it, so gently from your collarbone, over the swell of your breast, to your nipple. 

“Eddie,” you hiss, arching your back. He pulls away from you, to turn his head and look down the length of your torso to the stiff, pink peak of your tit. 

He hums again, almost to himself, like he’s considering where to go next. When it seems like he’s decided, he drags the vibe slowly across your sternum, to your other nipple, and rolls the buzzing silicone over your tender flesh. He looks down at your chest. 

“God, baby, look at these pretty little titties,” he says, biting his plush lower lip. 

You look down at yourself, but the sight of him holding the buzzing tip of the vibe to your quivering nipple is too much. You mewl, and grip the sheets beneath you in your fists, pushing yourself into the warmth the vibe is creating. 

“Do you - oh, God - do you like them, Eddie?” 

He leans down to suck the stiff peak of your other nipple into his soft, wet mouth and lets it go with an obscene pop. 

“Oh Princess, you know I do.” 

You’re just holding on as the buzzing against your tender flesh starts to verge on pain. But it’s the kind of pain that shoots right through your core to your aching cunt, makes it flutter and clench. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whine, arching your back and rubbing your thighs together, before letting your legs fall open and tilting up your hips. 

“Hmmmm, so sensitive,” he says, his voice deep and rough. He tilts his face again to look down your body to your sex and his hair brushes across your cheek like a butterfly’s kiss. “Oh ho ho, what do we have here?“ 

“Please, baby," you whine, canting your hips again. “Please.”

“Needy girl,” he sing-songs, and starts dragging the vibe across your sternum and down, over your belly to the edge of your white cotton panties. “Oh no, you’ve made a bit of a mess here, Princess.”

You know that by “mess” he means the damp patch. You’ve been wet since he started this game, and now you’re practically flooding. Any other time you’d be embarrassed about that, and the noises you're making as he rolls the vibe across your pubic bone and your mons, but you just can’t summon an ounce of shame right now. All you want is that vibe where it belongs, buried in your pussy, or on your clit. You fucking want it. 

“Please, Eddie, don’t tease me,” you say, and your voice sounds so shaky, you’re shivering so hard your teeth are almost chattering. 

He slips the vibe over the thin cotton, to the damp patch. He rolls the vibe around pressing in. It almost makes you jerk, like he’s touched a live wire to your core. 

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start chanting, pressing your hips up into that hot buzz. “Fuck, yes. Right there, oh, oh Eddie.” 

Your head is thrown back, eyes clamped shut as you chase that feeling, fisting the sheets under you. You can feel it building so you chase it. If he keeps this up you’ll come just like this. 

“Hold on there, sweetheart,'' he says, not removing the vibe, but easing some of the pressure. “We’ll get you there, but not too soon, OK?” 

You can’t help the whine that follows. It sounds so needy and pathetic. Again, you’d be embarrassed, but it’s all you’re capable of right now. It makes Eddie chuckle, and worse, lift the vibe away from you altogether. 

“Edd-ie,” you pout. But he just taps your hip and starts to slowly peel your panties down. You lift your ass long enough for him to get them out from under your butt, and then he’s drawing them down your thighs, and calves, over your feet and off. And then, like the wild goddamned animal he is, he smooshes them against his nose and mouth and breathes deep.  

“Fu-uck, baby, you smell so good.” 

You respond to his teasing by spreading your legs wide and slipping your fingers between your wet folds. “Yeah? How does it look, Daddy?” You ask him, as his eyes fix on your cunt. 

He knows what a fucking buzz you get from him looking at your sex. You don’t know why, or what it means, but any time he looks at your pussy, you feel yourself get exponentially hotter, infinitely wetter. Part of you thinks you could just come from him watching you spreading while he tells you how good your little kitty looks, how much he wants it. Which is kind of what’s happening right now, God have mercy. 

He throws your panties over his shoulder, and leans down to nose your hand out of the way and suck your little rose bud into his mouth. It’s kind of an awkward angle, but that just makes it feel even better, unexpected and strange.

“Taste fucking good, too,” he says, pulling off your clit, breathless and a little dazed. His cock, hard and red, is jutting up from his lap, the tip wet with pre-come. You want to suck it, but before you can ask for it, he rolls the vibe over your mons, and presses it hard, against the left side of your clit. 

That really does make you jackknife up off the bed. You can feel the buzz everywhere, in everything, all at once. It’s humming in your cunt, your ass, even your nipples, it reverberates through your teeth and out the top of your head, where every single follicle is standing on end. There are thousand tiny bubble bursting under your skin, and you never want it to end. 

“Fuck yeah, baby,” you hear Eddie say, as if from a distance. “Fuck yeah, fucking ride it.” 

You realize there’s someone in the room wailing… it takes you a second to understand that that someone is you. You’ve got one hand fisted in the sheets, and the other is gripping Eddie’s knee. Your toes are curled into the blankets, and your eyes are clenched shut as the orgasm arcs through you like he’s just flicked the on switch and lit you up. 

It seems to go on forever, every muscle in your body going into spasm for long, hot seconds of pleasure, until it slowly starts to ebb away. 

You slap feebly at Eddie’s hand when it’s too much, when the intense pleasure has melded into a keen pain. He gently lifts the vibe away from you, thumbs the button and leans over to put it on your bedside table. 

For a couple of minutes, you can’t open your eyes or move a muscle. It’s like all your bones have turned to jelly. You lie there, spread eagle, panting, your hand still gripping his thigh.

“Fucking hell, Eddie,” you whisper, finally. “Fucking hell.” 

“Yeah?” 

You peel open one eyelid to look at him, leaning by your side. “Yeah,“ you breathe, only just able to nod your head. 

You attempt to sit up and turn to him. It’s a pretty pathetic attempt, all things considered and you end up sort of limply rolling towards him, the vision of that big, red, weeping cock of his is still fresh in your mind. “What about…” 

He’s got one arm across his lap, covering his groin. 

“Yeah, about that…” 

“Oh my God, did you just bust a nut from watching me come?” 

“You make sound so romantic,” he says wryly, reaching over the edge of the bed and snagging his Metallica shirt to cover his slowly deflating junk with. 

“Eddie,” you say, reaching for him. “Baby, that is the hottest fucking thing that has ever happened to me.” 

“Sure, sure,” he says, as he wipes up his lap and throws the tee shirt into the far corner of the room. But he lets you pull him on top of you, your loose, sweaty bodies sliding together a perfect fit. 

“You’re just too… God,” he says, snuffling into the crook of your neck and wrapping his arms and legs around you and under you in a sticky, sexy bear hug. “Too fucking sexy. I had to bust.” 

You both laugh, giddily. 

Eventually he rolls off you, and leans up on his elbow, his tousled head resting on his palm as he looks down at you. He’s so lovely, those chocolate eyes, and his plush, beautiful mouth, even the road map of pain on his chest that leads all the way back into his past, all the way to you two here, in this bed… even that has a kind of raw beauty. He’s a survivor, your man. 

“Eddie,” you say, reaching up to twine a lock of his hair around the finger. “I think I was wrong.”

He grunts a little as he leans over you to grab a pack of smokes from the bedside table. He pops two out and lights them both at the same time, like some Beatnik from the 60s, one for him and one for you.

He takes a lit smoke from between his lips and holds it out for you. You take it, wait for him to take his own out of his mouth and blow a plume of smoke over your heads, before you lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.  

Leaning back again, you take a drag, blow a plume of smoke of your own, and smile. 

“Yeah,” you say, stretching languidly. “I think you are in charge of dispensing the orgasms ‘round here now.”

______

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[maria-akira]

how you meet the ahs boys + their reaction while you're having a class - PART 1

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hey yall im back again 🧍🏻‍♀️ is this what you call a headcanon?? idk BAHAHSHHA. anyways i've had this idea in my mind for a while and i wanted to share it to yall, so i hope you guys like it 😌

these also have a little back story on how you guys meet !!

also, special mention to @tatestripedsweater for helping me give ideas with jimmy's part !! thank you so much mwah 🥺❤

warnings: none! just pure fluff <3

please excuse any errors !

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~♡ TATE LANGDON:

before the pandemic, you and your family have moved into the murder house.

the house gave your family a very odd vibe, but nonetheless all of you had to bear with it because it was sold for a cheap price.

but when the pandemic arrived the country, you were stuck at home 24/7. thus, classes were online.

you met tate because of your father. tate was one of his patients and the both of you grew close.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

tate would randomly barge in your room while having a class and you would jump out of shock.

"Jesus, Tate. Stop scaring me like that!"

tate would giggle and lay on your bed, observing the lesson that the teacher rambled about.

while you're writing notes, he would stand up and take a chair from some part of your room and sit beside you.

knowing that tate is clingy, you would warn him not to bug you and behave while you listened in class.

of course, he doesn't listen and he would place his head on your shoulder and eventually would cuddle you.

"Taaate, please let me focus."

luckily, you always keep your camera off.

"Mmm, no. I enjoy bugging you."

~♡ KIT WALKER:

one time, you were driving to school on your own and you were almost running out of gas.

luckily, you saw a gas station nearby and decided to get a fill before heading to school. and there, you met kit.

when you first laid your eyes on kit, you thought that he was the prettiest man ever. you couldn't let this chance slip, thus, you exchanged numbers with him.

you talked all day and night, the both of you were so inlove with each other and you finally decided to introduce him to your parents.

your parents loved him and you were so, so happy.

but when the pandemic came, it affected your relationship with kit.

since all schools and unis were closed down, everything went online.

when kit stayed over, he couldn't spend a lot of time with you because you had to attend classes early in the morning, till afternoon.

"Can you stay in bed with me for a little bit, darling?"

unfortunately, you woke up late that day and you missed 10 minutes of your first class. and just like that, you were stuck to your desk until afternoon.

"Kit baby, I'm sorry. I'm late for my first class. Maybe later, okay?"

as much as kit hated this whole online class thing, he would always find a way to cheer you up.

thus, he would cook you breakfast and bring it over to your room.

"C'mere, I'll feed you while you listen and write down notes."

~♡ KYLE SPENCER (PRE DEATH AND POST DEATH) :

PRE DEATH:

madison, your friend, had bugged you all week to go with her to this college frat party near your house.

you weren't the party type. you loved staying at home, watching netflix or reading some sort of fan fiction on wattpad.

but you hated being single. so, this was your chance to actually get a boyfriend.

when you arrived at the party, you immediately hated it. everything was so loud and everyone was drinking, it was definitely a new sight for you.

you were sitting on a couch that was in the balcony, with a red cup that was filled with punch. you loved being away from the commotion.

this is where you met kyle, it was love at first sight. the both of you had so much in common and you thought that he was the man of your dreams.

you exchanged snapchats and from there, you were partners-in-crime.

you and kyle had stopped going to parties ever since the pandemic arrived, which means you got to see each other less.

since the both of you were students, both of your classes went online.

one time, kyle had no classes for a day and he decided to surprise you.

that day, you were having an online presentation. both your camera and microphone were on.

"Rene Descartes was the Father of Modern Philosophy—"

as you were presenting the slide show, you were cut off by kyle's presence infront of your desk.

"I brought you food, baby!"

you would shush him and suddenly turn off your mic.

"I'm so sorry, Miss. My boyfriend arrived and I—"

kyle would go beside you and kiss you on your cheek, your classmates and teacher cooing over it.

"Miss, you better give my girlfriend a good grade."

POST DEATH:

*pretend that he survived the bus accident and had a coma, because we arent involving witchcraft here*

kyle and his fraternity were on a bus that was going to some college event at school.

on the way there, you guys snapped each other and his friends would talk to you as well.

unfortunately, they got in an accident and the bus was flipped over.

a few students, including kyle, survived the accident.

when you heard this news, you cried your heart out and you didnt talk to anyone in your family.

you and your family visited the hospital and you rushed to kyle's room, it broke your heart to see tubes in him, with machines that beeped like there was no tomorrow.

when the doctor said that kyle was in a coma, your heart sank in the deepest part of your body.

this made you stay 24/7 with him until he was discharged.

when he was discharged from the hospital, he was not his usual self. the bubbly, energetic kyle was gone. instead, he was so confused with everything.

kyle's mom made him stay with you until he got his memory back, and you were more than glad to help.

but this took a toll on your studies because your classes were online due to a pandemic.

everyday in class, you would let kyle sit beside you and let him observe what you were doing.

"We're in Science class, Kyle. You were really good in Science, you helped me alot with my homeworks."

most of the time, you would help kyle develop his speech and his writing. but it was difficult for you.

"S-Sci... S-Sci-en.. ce?"

"Yes, Kyle! Good job, now one more time."

~♡ JIMMY DARLING:

ever since you were a kid, you loved going to carnivals, your parents would always bring you there every weekend.

there were carnivals almost everywhere, and your family brought you to all of them.

to you, each carnival was unique. the clowns and magicians in each carnival had different tricks up their sleeve.

but as you grew up, these carnivals slowly went out of business. except for one, which was elsa's cabinet of curiosities.

you decided to visit it one day just for a trip down memory lane, you never really had expectations for this place.

when you arrived there, there were a few people that were seated.

the show started and it instantly made you smile, they reminded you of your younger days. oh how you wished to be a child again.

you watched through a few acts, and the last act was a man named jimmy darling

when he came on stage, you locked eyes with him. there was something about him that really struck you.

after the performance ended, jimmy ran over to you and got your number. from there, you always talked and you would visit him regularly.

the regular visits stopped when the pandemic struck the country, forcing entertainment establishments, schools and unis to close down.

for the mean time, all your classes went online. you told jimmy that he could stay with you until things went back to normal.

on an early tuesday morning, you were in english class. jimmy was with your parents preparing breakfast, and you were falling asleep while your teacher discussed about the odyssey.

unlike tate, jimmy would always knock on your door. as his mom always taught, never enter anyone's room without knocking.

jimmy would giggle at your sleeping sight, your head lowered and your hair messed up.

"Hey, sweetheart, wake up! You're in class."

jimmy's timing was perfect. as he woke you up, you were called by the teacher.

"Miss Y/N, Do you think Odysseus was loyal to his wife?"

obviously, you panicked. but jimmy was there to save you. since jimmy was fond of reading, he finished the book and he whispered the answer to you before you could turn on your mic.

"No, Ma'am. Odysseus had an affair with Calypso and Circe."

once you got your teacher's approval, you turned off your microphone and let out a sigh of relief.

"You're lucky that I'm here to help you."

jimmy would joke and you would jump up to him, tackling him into a hug.

"I'm always lucky to have you, baby."

~♡ DANDY MOTT

at a young age, you were exposed to different types of fabrics. denim, silk, corduroy, neoprene. they name it, you've probably seen it.

your mother worked as a fashion designer. she managed to open a shop in the city and it was a great success for you and your family.

your mother has styled famous models. because of this, the shop was promoted and broadcasted all over the country. one day when you came from school, you saw a long line outside the shop.

that day, the staff count was low. there were only 5 employees instead of 10. you didn't exactly know why, so you decided to help.

after what felt like several hours, the long line finally dissolved into 2 customers, which was a mother and her son. they looked through the shop and the mother instantly loved everything.

her son, on the other hand, was trying on this lilac tux that your mother made.

you assisted her son and when you locked eyes, the both of you smiled. you entertained him throughout his shopping spree and the both of you never broke eye contact.

this was how you met dandy. he made the first move by getting your number, and of course you gave it back.

from there, the both of you talked day and night, even when you were in school.

since dandy's mother, gloria, loved your mother's shop so much, she would invite you and your mother regularly to her mansion.

gloria and your mother got along very well, and it was like gloria was your second mother.

so when your mother went to paris for a fashion show, she let you stay in gloria's mansion until she came back.

but to your dismay, your mother was not able to come back due to a pandemic that was all over the world. flights, establishments, and schools closed down.

of course you were sad, but you didn't worry so much because gloria treated you like her real daughter.

classes were online and you were forced to attend them everyday in the shared room you had with dandy.

since you had to get ready for class early in the morning, you would quietly get out of bed because dandy was sometimes a light sleeper.

it was around 8am and you were in math class. in your school, cameras were required to be turned on at all times. you thought this was a shit rule, but you had no choice to comply.

you were drawing some circles with a compass for an example that was being discussed by your teacher, when all of a sudden dandy was beside you.

"Dandy, sweetie, what are you doing up so early? Go back to sleep.."

dandy would pout at the lack of attention that you were giving him. since he loved holding your hand, you let him hold your other hand that you didn't use for writing.

"You're doing Math instead of cuddling with me!"

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i'm actually super proud of this omg !! i hope yall enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🥺❤

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[asthmark]

❝ only us ❞, n.jm

summary → it was obvious to anyone that you guys had practiced this various times. or maybe it was just natural chemistry? jaemin isn’t sure what’s worse.

request → “could you write about bestfriend jaemin getting jealous when he sees you kiss jeno for a play at school that you're in” (anon)

word count → 3k

a/n → this request made me so incredibly happy because all the knowledge i acquired my musical phase finally came in handy!! also i haven’t listened to dear evan hansen since i downloaded the illegal bootleg on my laptop like last year so i don’t remember much abt it :( i just kind of described it really vaguely lol anyway hope u enjoy ;)

jaemin dropped his backpack carelessly onto the floor of the crowded cafeteria. he set his plate down on the lunch table, not even glancing at you as he eagerly dug into his food.

“sorry i’m late,” he says to you, eyes concentrated on the orange citrus in his hand. his fingers skillfully begin peeling off the skin. “i had to stay a couple minutes after history class as punishment for eating during the lesson.”

you roll your eyes, an amused smile on your face. “disappointed but not surprised.”

at hearing this comment, he glares at you. “hey, i didn’t have breakfast today and my stomach was growling like, really loud! seriously, it sounded like a whale mating call or something.”

“and who’s fault is that?” you ask, tucking your hands beneath your chin.

he frowns as he pops an orange wedge in his mouth. “mine, i guess. but it’s only because coach told me i should eat less if i wanna play better. something about less body mass making it easier to move around the court.”

“well, i’m pretty sure he didn’t mean skipping out on entire meals, doofus,” you retort. “breakfast is the most important meal of the day, isn’t that what everyone says?”

“true.” suddenly, his eyes light up. “so, you’re gonna start bringing me breakfast in the morings?”

you raise an eyebrow. “i’m sorry, when did we decide on that?”

he flashes you one of his infamous na jaemin smiles. “just now.”

“yeah well, tell your coach you’ll be losing that weight because there’s no way i’m going to wake up at the crack of dawn just to get you a mcmuffin.”

“but it would make my mornings so much better,” he whines. “having basketball practice so early sucks but with my cute little cheerleader there it would be totally worth it... the mcdonald’s is a bonus.”

you can’t help but laugh. “sorry nana, but i prefer sleeping in over watching a bunch of sweaty guys toss a ball around at 6 a.m.”

“fine... buy me a coffee after school and i’ll let you slide.”

“maybe tomorrow, i’ve got theatre today.”

“well, after that then,” he suggests.

you shake your head. “but then you’d have to wait and we’re doing a full rehearsal today.”

he shrugs. “i can wait, i don’t have practice.”

“yeah but i know how you are, na jaemin. you have the attention span of a goldfish.”

“not when it comes to you. you always have my attention.”

you’re about to laugh at what you assumed had been a purposefully cliché one-liner on his behalf but there’s no sign that he was joking. his devilish smirk and teasing eyes that usually appeared when he flirted with the girls on campus were nowhere to be found. instead you’re met with a straight face and his glimmering eyes that seem almost expectant, concentrated on you only. it takes you by surprise. was he being serious or something? the thought alone has your heart beat steadily increasing.

“okay fine, fine. anything for you to stop staring at me like that.”

he tilts his head to the side, resembling a lost puppy. “staring at you like what?”

“like—“ you pause, debating on whether or not you should say it. “like you’re in love with me or something.”

he only chuckles. “you have no idea.”

you almost choke on your sandwich. before you have a chance to ask him what in the world he meant by that, one of his teammates from the basketball team appears behind him, stealing his attention away.

“hey jaem,” donghyuck greets as he ruffles the younger boy’s hair. “coach just called a team meeting.”

“right now?” jaemin asks, displeased.

the brunette nods, folding his arms over his chest.

jaemin suppresses a groan as he stands and grabs his belongings. “sorry y/n. i’ll see you later for your rehearsals, okay?”

you nod. “see you later, nana.”

“bye jaemin’s girlfriend!” donghyuck exclaims receiving a punch in the arm from your ‘boyfriend’ although he doesn’t deny.

“i’m excited,” comments jaemin later that day. he has a bright grin on his face as you make your way through the hallway to the multipurpose room where you usually went for theatre club .

“oh really? i didn’t know you liked musicals.”

“well not really. but i like you.”

for the second time in one day, jaemin catches you off guard. you kick yourself for letting his shamelessness get to you. after all, wasn’t he like that with every girl? he had always been a charmer, you knew that before you had even met him.

na jaemin—point guard and certified flirt.

the only reason you had grown closer was due to him being in critical need of academic help and your teacher seeing you as a fit tutor. at first everyone found it amusing; the classic popular guy and quiet girl cliche. nobody had expected that you two would become practically glued by the hip. especially not you. maybe that was why you were so opposed to jaemin flirting with you. you were best friends but you knew how he was: not interested but never one to turn down any kind of attention. there was just no way that among so many girls you would be an exception.

“well, i hope you can like me for two hours because that’s probably how long this is gonna take,” you say, trying to move the conversation forward.

“i already told you, i have nowhere to be!” he exclaims. “besides, when would i ever turn down an opportunity to stare at you for a couple hours?”

you can’t help but roll you eyes, playfully. “please refrain from using any of your cheesy pick up lines on me while we’re there.”

“why?” he whines. “are you embarrassed of me?” when you turn to look at him he’s making those ridiculous puppy eyes that he knows you find hilarious.

you snort at seeing the familiar face. “when you do that, definitely.”

“alright fine. i’ll try to be on my best behavior in front of your little theatre friends.”

“thank you.” despite not believing a word he says, you still push open the door leading to the multipurpose room.

before you even get one foot in the door, your cast mate is already in your face.  

“y/n, finally!” he says, looking beyond relieved at your presence. “i thought you’d never come! c’mon, you gotta change into your costume so we can start.”

“it’s not even opening night, jeno, calm down!” you say, laughing. “and i’m only a couple minutes late, it’s fine.”

he frowns. “you know how anxious i get. everything needs to be perfect.”

“yeah i know, sorry renjun.”

jeno makes a face, showcasing his disgust with your comment that compared him to your strict director. “shut up, you’re gonna summon him.”

“summon who?”

speak of the devil.

you shake your head at renjun who has appeared besides jeno. “not important.”

he smiles sarcastically, brushing his blonde bangs out of his face. “oh good. so can we move on to the actually important things now? like how you’re 6 minutes late?”

you sigh. “i had to wait outside jaemin’s class that’s on the other side of campus, sorry.”

but renjun doesn’t seem to care about your apology. instead, his attention has shifted to jaemin who stands behind you, hands stuffed into his pockets and eyes curiously observing the interactions between you and your friends.

“hello there.” your director moves past you, extending his hand towards your best friend which he takes awkwardly. “pleasure to meet you. you’re on the basketball team, right? i heard you scored the winning touchdown at the last game. congrats!”

“um, it’s just called a point in basketball but... thank you.”

renjun ignores jaemin’s correction. “is it your first time visiting the theater club?”

the brunette nods.

“oh, that’s wonderful! do you plan on coming to see our play on the 15th of this month?”

jaemin scratches the back of his head. “um... to be honest, i didn’t even know you guys had one coming up.”

renjun laughs, harder than usual. “that’s quite alright. it’s called ‘dear evan hansen’. it’s about the trials of high school life for a depressed teen who’s caught in a huge lie.” his hands fly around wildly, using them for emphasis as he dramatically explains the plot to jaemin. “you should come support us!”

“well, i would love t—“

“great! entry is $10.00, cash only. and definitely invite the rest of the basketball team!” with that, renjun rushes off, shouting something about how that was ‘exactly how to sell tickets for the play’ to the rest of the staff.

jaemin gives you a confused stare. “what just happened?”

you chuckle and give him a pat on the back. “you just experienced firsthand what we call here at the theater club the huang renjun effect. never fails to suck somebody into buying tickets for our shows.”

“well, now i kinda wanna buy one.” he turns to you, his eyes widening so big it’s comical. “wow, he’s good.”

“he’s more of a salesman than a director, that’s what you always say, right?” you turn to jeno who nods at the statement. “oh, this is jeno, by the way. he’s one of the few people around here who is not crazy.”

jeno waves at jaemin who smiles weakly at him, too busy observing his physique to say anything. his costume consisted of a blue polo shirt that made his biceps and veiny arms much more prominent. the shirt was pretty tight as well, making his toned chest and torso visible to just about anyone. the khakis he wore were fitted and his thick thighs were impossible to ignore. jaemin can’t help but wonder what a guy with his body was doing in a theatre club when he could be such a useful player on the court.

he looks up at his face, his cheeks curved into a smile that reached his squinted eyes. he would admit, he was a good looking dude. he then glances at you and realizes—you spent almost everyday with jeno. he feels guilty for it but he can’t stop himself from feeling slightly threatened by your cast mate.  

jeno clears his throat, trying to ignore the awkward silence that has settled upon the three of you. “um, it was nice meeting you.” he shifts his attention to you. “i’m gonna finish getting ready.”

once he has left, you let out a giggle that you had been holding in during the entire exchange. “what’s the matter? you got all choked up just now. look, i know jeno’s hot but you gotta keep your cool just like the rest of us, okay?”  

he frowns as he folds his arms over his chest, your last comment only fueling his feelings. “quit teasing me.”

“aw c’mon, you know i gotta give you a hard time,” you say, knocking his shoulder with yours. “it’s my duty as your best friend.”

before he can even respond, renjun’s voice is heard, being amplified by the megaphone in his hand. “rehearsals will start in 15 minutes instead of 5 because y/n wants to chit-chat with her friend instead of going to hair and makeup!”

you scowl at having been called out. “alright, i’ve gotta go get ready. please enjoy the show, though, okay?”

jaemin nods, smiling at seeing the genuine glint in your eyes. “of course.”

you were reaching the half point of the musical and jaemin had already cried twice.

with the looks he was receiving from the stage crew and even some of the cast members up on stage, he could tell they hadn’t expected him to be as emotional as he was but he couldn’t help it. the play was incredibly sad and he found himself not even knowing who to pity.  

there was jeno’s character, evan hansen, who was stuck in a hole he had dug himself into but there was still a bit of him that was innocent and so helpless.

then there was connor murphy played by a kid named park jisung, who had only been around for a couple of scenes since his character was so tormented he had taken his life at the beginning of the play.  

there were many other supporting roles, such as family members or friends and they all seemed to have their own issues but the character that truly got to him was yours.  

you were playing zoe murphy, connor’s sister who was grappling with the death of her brother the entire musical, not sure whether to mourn him or remember him for the abusive person he was. in fact, your performance had tugged at jaemin’s heart strings so intensely that your solo song was the reason he had cried the first time around.

your acting skills had impressed him and your vocals left him stunned. all the times you and him had carpooled and sung the songs on the radio at the top of your lungs, he had never noticed your heavenly pipes. now that he had, he could feel himself becoming even more into you, if that was possible.

he sat on the edge of his seat, eyes focused intently on you and jeno as the 10th song began. as soon as the sound of the soft piano begins, jaemin prepares himself to shed tears once more but to his surprise, it seemed to be taking a more romantic turn.  

he could only watch as you and jeno sang about being together and not letting go of each other... basically saying everything he wanted to tell you. he knew it was all a part of the act but seeing a guy as perfect as jeno pour his feelings out to you as you watched him with heart eyes and sang about how mutual it was proved to be incredibly tough. it made him feel like all his shameless flirts and stares that were too long to be just friendly were useless. why couldn’t making you his be as easy as jeno was making it seem?

before he can beat himself up for it anymore you and jeno lock lips. it isn’t just a quick peck, either. your hand tangles itself into his gelled back hair and his hand ends up on your waist as your lips move against each other, rhythmically. it was obvious to anyone that you guys had practiced this various times. or maybe it was just natural chemistry? jaemin isn’t sure what’s worse. all he knows is that he can’t take another second of watching you two engage in your passionate kiss when all he wishes is that he were in jeno’s shoes.

so, without a second thought he gets up and rushes out the door. he doesn’t look back at you because he doesn’t want to see the confusion and disappointment that will surely be on your face. he doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of his childish actions. he doesn’t stop running until he reaches the gym and takes a seat in the bleachers. he doubles over, head in his hands as he pants heavily in an attempt to catch his breath.

shortly after, much to his surprise, the door swings open and there you stand.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, sitting up straight.

“me? what about you, jaemin?” you approach him, slowly. “you just ran out of the room, for god’s sake. everyone’s worried, i’m worried.”

he feels another wave of guilt wash over him for interrupting your rehearsal and going against the one thing he said he was going to do: behave. “please go back. i’m fine, y/n. just needed a breather.”

“oh no,” you say walking up the stairs to the top row of bleachers where your best friend sits. “don’t ‘i’m fine, y/n’ me. you are most definitely not fine.” once you reach him you take a seat to his left, making sure to leave a generous space between you and him. “what happened back there? i swear, if renjun said anything to you i’ll personally make sure he never looks in your direction again.”

“no, it’s not that.” he pauses. “you and jeno were just—“ he trails off, his throat going dry.

you carefully place a hand on his arm, letting him know you would wait for anything he had to say.

“you were just really convincing.”

“well, isnt that a good thing?”

“it was... too much for me to see,” he confesses.

“so, what you’re saying is it’s too unrealistic? do we need to tone it down a bit?”

he nearly groans in frustration. “it’s not that! i wanted to be him, y/n! i want to feel your lips and hear about how much you want me!”

you retract your hand from his arm. “are you serious right now?”

he shoots you a harsh look and you notice how his eyes are glossed over, confirming just how serious he was. he gets up to leave, accepting his rejection before you grab his arm again and yank him down. he lands back on the bench and stares at you, visibly puzzled.

“if you would have waited a second longer you would know how badly i want those things too, you goldfish.”

the tears in his eyes fall but he still shoots you a toothy grin, showing he was anything but unhappy. you bring your hand up to his face, your thumb softly rubbing away the wet stains on his cheek. he unconsciously leans into your touch, never once breaking eye contact. once he’s had enough of delicate touches, he pulls you into his chest and you breathe in his scent—peppermint and coffee.

“i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“for basically trading spit with jeno right in front of you.”

“it’s alright, baby... let me be the only person you practice that kiss scene with and i’ll let you slide.”

“deal.”

[jamilelucato]

Faking It || pt. 3 [F.W.]

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader; Fred Weasley x reader.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Hogwarts Masterlist || Part 4

Summary:

You’re a Slytherin dating Draco Malfoy and life is pretty normal until Fred Weasley decides that the best prank against Draco involves you; this won’t end well, will it?

*gif not mine // [y/h/c] = your hair colour; [y/e/c] = your eye colour.

This is a series, so be free to ask if you wanna be tagged.

Warnings: cheating.

Words: 2k+

A/N:  Last part comes tomorrow — or at least I hope. This is my favourite one so far, so enjoy!

Tag List: @marvelsmalfoy​​ @naomi02hook​ @elf-punk​ @enjoying-fantasyland21​ @stuckindilemma​ @moosewingsimagines​ @happiestsparkleofall

—

Fred woke up with the brightest smile he could give, and if George hadn't have heard everything that happened the night before, he could've been confused.

That was the case with Ron, who couldn't think of a reason why his older brother was so happy.

"Are gonna prank me?" asked Ron frowning. He and the twins didn't have the best history when it came to pranks.

"Nope," answered Fred without dropping the smile.

Ron exchanged looks with George, who just shrugged, not caring at all.

"You don't wanna know," George informed his younger brother.

The three Weasleys headed to the Great Hall, followed by Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and even though Hermione seemed quite happy with something she had just discovered, she was not more excited than Fred.

Of course, he was happy! he had all the reasons to be! His plan was finally working; he was at what he called "stage 2", and, from there on, things would only get funnier.

Fred had kissed y/N last night, Draco's girlfriend, and although the snogging truly surprised him — he was not expecting her to be a good kisser at all —, he knew he was now one step closer to his goal. You didn't run away from his touch — at least, not until the very end — and you kissed him back. You also hadn't screamed or slapped him, which he considers positive results.

The smile was still on his face when his eyes met yours from across the Hall. You looked beautiful that morning, as usual, wearing the fanciest and expensive Hogwarts' uniform, but that was not what made his smile fade away.

You were laughing hard at some joke someone had told, holding on to Draco's neck to keep yourself in place, after all, you were on his lap.

The scene made no sense to Fred. Come on now! His kiss did not affect you what so ever? Not even enough for you to feel guilty and, don't know, avoid your boyfriend?

George followed with his eyes to where his brother was looking.

"Oh," he let out. "When you told me about the kiss last night you forgot to mention it was 'the kiss'," he said, confusing Fred even more.

"What do you mean?"

"She's all around Malfoy, practically begging to forget what you two did last night," explained George, tilting his head in your direction.

"I beg to differ," started Fred, "she's showing off how she didn't care about the kiss."

"That's what she wants to display," George smirked, "and I think it might be working."

The twins stared at each other, George practically telling his point of view just by arching his brows. It took a while, but Fred finally understood.

Holding Draco so close wasn't your way of showing that you didn't care about last night — that was your attempt to erase it. You were begging for everything to go back to normal, to avoid your thought about Fred, replacing him for Draco.

Fred sighed, a bit too loud, which scared Hermione, who was sitting next to him. She stared at the boy but could not understand what was going on. Fred was glad she couldn't — it meant his and your plan was working.

However, part of it scared him. You two had opposite intentions, and he knew that, at the end of it all, one of you would end up hurt. He hoped it was not him.

***

Every time you could be with Draco, you were with Draco.

He was going to steal food in the kitchen — you followed. He was going to Quidditch practice — you were in the stands. He had to study — you held his book.

If he thought that was weird, he didn't complain. Draco enjoyed your company a lot, especially for trivial things, things not exclusive related to boyfriend and girlfriend.

He always thought things had happened to fast for you two — but with his father whispering in his ear, he had not much to do except ask you out. Sure, he liked kissing you — you tasted like chocolate most of the time — but he missed the times when there wasn't much pressure around.

You missed those times too — times when you wouldn't receive letters from Narcissa Malfoy, such as the one you had in hands, about how fun will it be when you get married.

"Is it my mom again?" Draco asked, realizing the expression on your face.

"Yeah," you said, dropping the paper over the Slytherin table. "I guess she has... picked my wedding dress?"

Draco took a look at the paper before shivering. "Madwoman," he commented, "I'll talk to her, don't worry."

It had been a week and a half until you faced Fred, both alone in the long hallway. You gulped, as hard as ever, avoiding look into his eyes.

You couldn't understand how he was there in your path — you had been very careful to avoid any place where he could be at, especially if you could be alone, just like now.

The Astronomy Tower you much love to visit was out of your sight ever since the rowdy night. You missed the place, but you knew he could be there as well.

He passed so close to you but did not touch. There was no need, though, because you felt all your nerve endings get agitated.

"Fred," you called his name, your voice just like a whisper. There was no need for a scream, Fred had heard you. He would've heard anyway you called.

He turned his face back at you — his eyes, widened as if he was scared.

"Thank you for..." you gulped, having no idea of how to put it, "for not saying a thing."

He offered you a said smile but said nothing.

"And I'm sorry for dragging you to it," you continued, not wanting to leave. "It was as much as my fault as yours."

You twisted your mouth, regretting the way you sounded.

"It was just my fault," you correct yourself, walking a step over in his direction. "I'm the one dating."

He puckered his forehead and attempted to reach for your hand before dropping the idea.

"I knew the truth and did it anyway," Fred said, "It's my fault too."

His words echoed in the hallway, still very empty. It was a surprise to find a part of the castle deserted, especially at that time — in between classes.

You two stayed in the silence, afraid to say anything else, both just taking the blame.

"Hum..." you looked around the walls, avoiding his eyes, "I gotta go... Potions, you know. Can't be late."

He said nothing after you rambled out loud, so you just turned towards your class, and left, walking a bit to fast for someone who was supposed not to be affected by the red-haired boy.

***

Studying with Pansy Parkson was something you avoided at all costs, but since she asked your help, you had no idea how to say no.

So there were you, sitting around lots of books Pansy had scattered over one of the library tables, trying to make the silly girl write her essay for her History of Magic class.

You were unexpectedly very focused on the reading and collecting data until two red-hairs walked in. Your eyes followed them until they sat down, next to Angelina Johnson, a girl from Gryffindor you knew was dating George Weasley.

"Do you think Professor would like it if I included this?" Pansy asked, calling your attention back to your table.

The girl in front of you showed a passage on her book, and even though you tried to read it, you couldn't understand a word. You knew why — your attention was no longer on the assignment in front of you, but on the three students sitting a bit far away.

However, you couldn't tell that to Parkinson as she was the most gossip girl you knew.

"Yeah, write that down," you said, rushing your eyes back at the Gryffindors.

Angelina had stopped reading whatever book she had in hands, talking animatedly with twins. At that distance, you couldn't be sure, but you were pretty sure Fred was the one on her left.

George seemed to be talkative as well, even using his hands to gesture something. They are up to something, you thought, remembering every time they tried to prank you and Draco. Fred, however, was rather quiet.

"Okay, I think I've got it," Pansy said, handing you the paper where she had written her homework.

You ran your eyes through it, focusing on finding grammar mistakes, but there was none.

"Looks good, Pansy," you complimented and she breathed at the sigh of relief.

"Then can we go? I hate this place," she said, getting up and gathering the books on the table. You had a pretty good idea of why she hated the place.

You got up as well, helping her with the books as slowly as you could, just to keep looking at the twins. However, Pansy was anxious to get out of there, and in less than a minute, you had left. Though not before exchanging a long look with Fred.

***

You kissed Fred again. You had no idea how it came to it, but there you were, under a hidden cabinet just a walk away from the Gryffindor Tower, kissing the red-haired boy.

Fred, on the other hand, knew exactly how he had gotten into that position.

George and Angelina were great helpers when it came to his doubts on how to get your attention back, after that whole "unholy" thing from the night at the Astronomy Tower. He knew you were feeling guilty and you wouldn't give in soon, so he had to be stronger at his seductive game.

And, apparently, his extra work was paying off.

Fred noticed you were paying more and more attention to him, analyzing his posture, his looks, with who he talked and what classes was he attending. He knew you were watching because a lot of times your eyes would lock and you would blush in a very guilty — but cute — way.

He noticed that you were coming back to your normal state around Draco — just pecks on the lips before parting ways. He knew it was only a matter of time before you'd let him touch you again.

And it happened, seventeen days after the first time you two kissed. You followed Fred all day, like a shadow. You were still very confused about why he was being so kind to you lately, why was he smiling to you a lot. And then you started missing him. You missed his smart remarks, his smirks and, the worst of all, you missed his touch. Oh, how you missed his lips! His hands!

You were walking around the school in the middle of the night, in hopes to trick your mind into thinking about something else, other than him, but it was far from working. Besides, you weren't even tired.

Fred had just left his dorm, and he was trying to hide in the shadows, afraid to get caught. Your eyes met his a little too anxious, and you knew there was no turning back. You couldn't run from that feeling one more night.

You hushed towards him and kissed him, softly; just a peck on the lips before returning to your starting position, without having to stand on tiptoe. He lowered his brows, looking down at you, probably confused by what had just happened.

The boy then smiled, widely, and reached for your waist, grabbing it to guide you to a safe a hide spot — the hidden cabinet — and finally kissing you the way he was expecting to do since the first time he had done it.

He grabbed every part of your body he could, giving you chills every time he squeezed some part of you. Your fingers were wandering all over his body — you did, however, have a tendency to go for his hair.

The kiss was better than the first time — probably because you two already knew what you two liked. It was not at all an attempt to make the other satisfied; you two were there for yourselves, so you were pleasing yourselves.

You loved to pull his hair and bite his lower lip, he liked to grab your ass and kiss your neck, and neither of you was doing it because of the other — it was pure egoism in its primitive form.

You had no idea of how long it took for you to stop snogging. It was probably two in the mourning you judge by the lights, but it didn't matter. When it ended, you felt more awaken then before.

You two stared at each other, gasping for air.

"So..." Fred started saying, adjusting his shirt, "see you same time tomorrow?"

You wrinkled your nose, dilating your nostrils at his suggestion. That was not happening again! It was an incredible mistake you were not planning on making a third time.

You ran your fingers through your hair before leaving, trying to fix it, but it seemed useless. Fred was smirking like he had just won a match and you couldn't understand why. What you did was wrong in so many levels, it was just...

You walked out of the hidden cabinet, leaving the door open behind you. Fred was soon out in the corridor too.

You looked at him one more time before walking away.

"Same time tomorrow," you finally agreed, disappearing in the darkness.

Fred started giggling alone, and although you were already very far from where he stood, you were able to hear his happy laugh.

PART 4 (LAST ONE) HERE!

[justanotherweedinthelawn]

What about Miu, Korekiyo and Fuyuhiko meeting their long distance s/o for the first time? Your writing is really good, keep it up dude!

Thank you so much anon! That means a lot to me. 🥺 For this scenario I decided that s/o lives in the US, and Miu, Kork, and Fuyu still live in Japan. Lemme know if you want me to change anything! Also, these might be a little long. Stay safe!

Miu, Korekiyo, and Fuyuhiko meet their long distance s/o for the first time

Miu Iruma

Miu always encourages you to visit

She usually says something at least a little perverted, but you've gotten used to it

For about a year you worked a lot of small jobs to save up enough money to visit Miu

You tell her it's to buy a new laptop so you can surprise her

Here's the plan

You ask your friend who lives in japan to meet you at the airport you'll land in

You'll get into a box they'll bring, and tell Miu that you sent a package for her and it's at the airport

Let's just hope she doesn't wonder why you didnt just send it straight to her

Then, you jump out of the box and surprise her!

The plan goes well

For the most part..

Where it goes wrong is Miu tries to pick the box up and you fall out of the bottom

"S/O?!"

"Uh.. that's not how that was supposed to go."

Your friend is laughing their ass off

You give them a quick glare before standing up and hugging your girlfriend

You're both crying tears of joy now

Yours are a little bit from pain if you're being honest

After a few seconds, you two get up and your friend asks if they can leave

Obviously you say yes, and you and your girlfriend's trip officially began!

Miu wasnt actually how you expected

Not her looks, her personality

She only made like one or two perverted jokes and even then she was pretty flustered

You figured she was less shy over the internet which like, same and you actually found it pretty cute

Miu takes you to her house and shows you a bunch of her inventions

She gives you a summary of the process of making them

You're amazed

After a few hours of that, you two go to a small restaurant to get some dinner

After dinner, Miu takes you to a small field and says she made some fireworks she was gonna try out tomorrow, but since you were here, she felt like it was a much better time

They were honestly one of the most beautiful things you've seen

Except for your amazing girlfriend, of course

Korekiyo Shinguji

Kork has always said that his anthropology trips would more than likely lead to you two meeting

Over the time you two were dating, you kinda started to lose faith in his words

One day you call Kork up and he says he's on a plane

He sounded more lively than usual

Kork's plane ride was extremely long, (and flying pretty late) so you two wrap your call up after about two hours so you both can get some rest

The next day you wake up to knocking at your door

What time is it?

Oh damn

You actually slept in late

It was already around 10

You yell out hoping the person outside can hear you

"I'll be there in a minute!"

You quickly brush your teeth and get ready

You dont realize it at the moment, but you completely forget to get dressed

You answer the door trying to look and sound as awake as possible

"How can I hel...p.. Kork?"

"It is true, my beloved."

Choo choo! All aboard the tears train!

You hug your boyfriend tight for the very first time

"You're really here.."

You two just hug for a while before he asks to come inside

You two go inside and now that you're awake, you finally realize you're still in your pajamas

"What the-?!"

Oh god

This is embarrassing

Your face immediately goes red and Korekiyo just seems to laugh as you rush to your closet for some clothes

After all that, you two kinda just talk for awhile

You're so excited that he's finally here!

Your boyfriend was finally right in front of you

Of course, he still has to do his job, but you're beyond happy that he's just here

You take him to multiple attractions near your place and you two have a blast

The only things that really shock you about Kork's appearance are his height and his hair

Hes.. so tall..

And his hair is so smooth

You're ecstatic when he let's you brush through it with your hands

You have never met a person with such soft and well kept hair, oh my god-

Kork ends up leading you to a museum

He literally ends up acting like he works there as a tour guide

This is adorable

He's so passionate about the attractions, you two end up going through the entire museum

You literally end up learning so much that day

You were happier than you had ever been in your entire life

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

It wasnt too, too long before Fuyuhiko ended up paying for a flight for you

He never really said it, but he really did wanna meet you

When you got to the airport, Peko greeted you, saying that at the moment Fuyuhiko had some clan related business to take care of at the last moment

You were a little disappointed if you were being honest with yourself

Peko said she would be taking you to Fuyuhiko's house so you could set your stuff down

After you two arrive, you're quick to put some of your stuff away

After about 10 minutes, you two hear a knock on the door

Peko offers to get it as she walks to the door

After she opens the door, you hear a familiar voice ask if you were here yet

You get up from the seat you're in, and hurry to greet Fuyuhiko

You hug him and he seems to stiffen up, but quickly rests and hugs you back

After you let go, you realize something

"Woah, I just realized how small you are.."

"Really? It's usually the first thing people point out about me."

He seemed to have grown slightly annoyed when you said that

"Oh, sorry if that was offensive! It just kinda surprised me, let me know if you're not ok with it."

Fuyuhiko seemed somewhat confused at your apology

"No, no, it's fine, I get it all the time. Just tired of hearin' it."

"Oh.. sorry, heh."

After that, you two head out to a nice restaurant

Peko's always nearby, but you honestly dont mind

You're focused on how much cuter your boyfriend is in real life, which you didnt know was possible

You also go to an ice cream parlor for dessert

Which you realize at said ice cream parlor that your boyfriend is quite easy to fluster

"Hey Fuyu, you have some ice cream on your cheek, I'll get it-"

"Wha- no- just- where?"

His face is extremely red and you find this adorable

The rest of your trip is mainly filled with small little dates and just hangouts

At some point though, you asked Fuyuhiko if you could meet his clan

Somewhat reluctantly, he agrees

Every member had an intimidating aura to them, but you didnt let it get to you as you were being introduced

You greeted every member as the normal people they were, paying no mind their yakuza background

Fuyuhiko was honestly surprised by this

"Yknow usually when someone meets my clan they're shaking like a leaf."

"Well they are human beings right? Unless you guys are robots..?"

He just laughs at you and you laugh along with him

Oh how you wish this moment would never end...

[artificialqueens]

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 2 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters 

A/N: hi!  here’s a little update introducing part of the ensemble and the dynamics of this story! I don’t know how to write text messages in this format so this is the most you’ll get from me ✌️ so I hope you enjoy it & thanks for reading it <3

-2-

Jackie’s little tips and advice had made Jan’s life so much easier in so many ways she didn’t even hesitate when she stood up in front of the vending machine and pressed the Snicker’s number. After submitting her papers on time –she gained the favor of the head secretary by complimenting her necklace-, she arrived at class five minutes earlier and got to pick her seat, she met a few of her classmates -including a girl that matched her energy called Rock but they couldn’t get to talk much after the professor started the lesson- it was like things were starting to fall into place for her.

Except for one thing…

She heard laughter around the corner and she recognized it right away. When she peeked into it, she found Nathan talking to the same girl he was flirting with during lunch –the girl he had been talking about, for sure- she was even prettier up close with her short skirt and mascara on.

Her heart shrunk but this wasn’t the first time something like that happened. She wondered sometimes how many times a heart could be broken by the same person; people sometimes said that wounds and scars helped to create thicker skin -and maybe- that was the case for her. Even though, it always hurt like the first time.

They walked away together and Jan was left alone, unnoticed. She cleaned her teary eyes with the back of her palm and put a big smile on her face before getting into the copy room.

Jackie was finishing some big pile of copies for a boy and a girl was waiting in line with some papers in her hand. Maybe Jan would bother her, she seemed to have a lot of work to do. She was about to turn around when the brunette spotted her.

“Jan, hey.” Jackie’s face lit up the moment she saw the other girl.

“Hi!” She moved closer to the counter. “I just wanted to drop by to give you this.” Jan slid the candy bar over the surface.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have… I was joking.”

“It’s the least I can do, you’ve done a lot for me today and I really appreciate that.”

Jackie’s heart swelled.

“You can stay if you want to hang out, I’ll be done in a couple of minutes.” She handed the pile of copies to the boy and accepted the bill he gave her. She gestured to the other girl to move forward.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to bug you.”

“You would keep me company and trust me, sometimes it’s needed.” She looked at the girl in front of her. “Simple, double?”

She shyly replied double and in less than three minutes, Jackie had her copies done.

“Have a nice day.” She then turned to Jan. “See, now it’s empty again and in other circumstances, I’d be on my phone so you’re the one making me a favor.”

“Okay.” Jan sounded relieved.

“You can come behind the counter it’s not like I have a vault full of cash or something, college students are broke.”

Jan seemed to be thrilled she could cross that limit, at least Jackie had chairs on that side of the room. The younger took a seat and since the chairs were tall she could let her feet hanging and swing them back and forward. In the meantime, Jackie unwrapped the chocolate bar and took a bite before browsing through one of her textbooks. Jan pulled out her map and some guides to access the virtual classroom as well, she needed to set it up from her phone.

Jackie peeped over. “Are you in the dorms?”

“Ah, yes! I moved in two days ago during the weekend. I’m still kind of lost there but…” She was about to say something else when someone walked into the copy room.

“Hey there, ladies…”

Jan was astonished because that woman was stunning with her braided hair, crop top, and tight jeans. She walked confidently toward the counter and pulled Jackie for a quick hug.

“Long time no see, Miss Cox. How was your break?”

“Hi Jaida, visiting the family, you know. By the way, you look so good.”

“I feel good.” She smiled at Jan. “And who do we have here? Hello, I’m Jaida.” She extended her hand.

Taking Heidi’s previous reaction into consideration, Jan shook it gentler. “Hi, I’m Jan. I don’t work here I’m just new.” She clarified.

“Oh, I see… freshman. There’s nothing to be afraid of we were all there before.” She smiled and held Jan’s hand for a moment giving her reassurance.

“Thank you.” Jan could cry any minute now and it would be the third time in the day.

“Now, some of us are having dinner at that new Thai place outside campus, are you in?” She looked at Jackie and then at Jan. “You can come too, of course.”

“Sure, I’ll be done in an hour and a half. Can I meet you there?” She turned to Jan.

“I really want to but I need to go to my dorm and settle down for a minute. I haven’t finished adjusting and I don’t even know my roommate yet.”

“Oh, you have one of the doubles.”

The younger nodded. “I’m at C dorms.”

“Wait, that’s where Nicky, Jaida’s girlfriend is, isn’t it?”

The other girl nodded. “I can text her if you want, she can show you around the installations.” She pulled out her phone. “Wait, I’ll call her, she hasn’t heard my lovely voice all day long…”

Jan chuckled.

Jaida pressed one number on speed dial.

“Babe…” She put the phone in her ear. “what do you mean who is it? Who do you think it is?” Her tone was playful. “Yeah, I’ll see you there after I’m done here. Did you have a nice day?… Oh, that’s great. Good for you. Listen, Jackie has a new friend here and she’s a freshman who happens to be in the same dorm you are, do you think you could help this little lost lamb?”

The younger pouted and Jackie just giggled.

“That’s perfect, I’ll tell her. You’re the best, babe. Love you.” She made some kiss noises and then hung up.

Jackie looked like she wanted to mock her but one glance from Jaida kept her from doing it.

“Nicky says she’s there right now, her dorm is C-10, next to the hallway. If you get lost look for a platinum blonde girl, gorgeous as hell, thick French accent…”

“Jaida is into foreign experiences.” Jackie explained and Jan had to hold her laughter.

“Listen you, Canadian bitch…” She threatened. “I’m trying to be nice here, don’t ruin it.”

“Jaida is in the same dorms as me, G dorms.” The brunette told her.

“You guys have singles?” She asked in disbelief, both girls nodded. “I wish I had a single.”

“Freshmen never get singles; part of the adaptation process or something like that. But don’t worry, having a roommate during your first year is a fruitful experience.” Jaida pointed out.

“Most of my classmates already met their roommates but there was a last-minute reassignment so I don’t know if I’ll meet mine today or tomorrow, next week…” Jan pouted again.

“On the bright side, you can experience having a single for another day.” Jackie patted her back.

“I have to go but I’ll see you later and I hope I see you around.” Jaida said at both girls after checking the time on her phone. “It was nice to meet you, Jan. Miss Cox…”

“Thank you so much.”

“See you in a bit.”

And with that, they were left alone again.

“I should go too.” Jan packed her things. “Jackie, I can’t stop telling you how much thankful I am… you’re awesome and I’ve known you for like a day but I already consider you my friend… Back in high school, I didn’t have many girlfriends so it is a big deal for me and now I’m oversharing I should probably shut up.”

Jackie chuckled. “It’s okay… I consider you a friend too.”

“Oh! I almost forgot, I don’t have your phone number…” She handed her phone with her hands like an offer. “Would it be okay if I text you and stuff?”

Jackie couldn’t handle this girl.

“Yeah, absolutely.” She typed her number and saved it as Jackie C. “C is for Cox or copy room, your pick.”

“That’s right, what’s with the girls calling you Miss Cox?”

“It’s an inside joke, they always make fun of me for being uptight… it was that or the alternative being «Anal girl».”

Jan almost choked and coughed a couple of times to hide it.

“You know, for being neat and organized.” Jackie was grinning.

“Right.” She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“I guess it’d have that reaction.” She laughed.

Jan was as red as a tomato.

“I better leave before I embarrass myself more…” She laughed nervously.

“See you later, Jan.”

“You most certainly will.” She said before leaving the copy room.

Jackie took a deep breath; she was screwed.

Jan returned to the building where her room was and dropped by Jaida’s girlfriend’s room before going back to her own. She knocked on the door on dorm C-10 as she remembered Jaida had said.

Not even two minutes later, a girl with wavy blonde hair and icy blue eyes opened the door. Nicky, as Jan assumed, was as stunning as her girlfriend. She was wearing a sleeveless turtleneck white crop top, skinny blue jeans with earrings that spelled «CHA» and «NEL», and stilettos. Jan had never seen someone with a makeup as impeccable as hers and for a moment she forgot she was supposed to say something.

Nicky raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, right! Hello neighbor, I’m Jan… Jaida spoke to you on the phone…”

“Jan.” She snapped her fingers. “Jackie’s friend.”

Her accent was very charming.

“I guess… yeah, that’s me.” She smiled, still kind of nervous.

“I was waiting for you, give me just a second, I need to finish my makeup.”

Wasn’t her makeup already perfect?

“You can come in if you please, you can sit on the bed meanwhile.”

“O-Okay, sure…”

Nicky’s room was nice -all dormitories had the same basic white melamine furniture consisting of a bed, a small desk and a set of drawers and doubles had two of each- but she had decorated the walls with framed magazine covers and polaroids of places in France; the bed was covered with a cream blanket that looked and felt expensive, the desk had a cute picture of Jaida and Nicky smiling at each other, there were makeup products scattered around and a laptop in a corner. She had a full-length mirror with which she kept retouching details of her highlighter.

However, Jan was more invested on the other side of the room which had bright colorful blankets and plushies on the bed, a blanket with a mandala painted hanging on the wall, a smiley face rug, a lava lamp on the desk, and the article she found more intriguing: a One Direction poster.

Nicky didn’t hear any noise so when she turned around and saw Jan staring at the colorful side of the room she explained to her. “My roommate.”

“I see…”

“Actually, she’s a freshman too, you should meet her later.”

“That would be fun.” Jan moved her feet unconsciously.

“So, how did you meet Jackie?” Nicky asked adding some gloss for the final touch.

“I literally met her today at the copy room. She helped me with a form and she’s been nothing but nice to me since then.”

Nicky hummed. “Ah…”

“Uhm… how long have you and Jaida been dating?” She asked trying to continue the small talk.

Nicky beamed at the mention of her girlfriend. “Our first anniversary is in a month.”

“Aw, congratulations. I met Jaida for like ten minutes but she spoke very dearly about you.”

“She may as well…” Nicky looked at Jan through the mirror reflection. “What about you? Are you dating someone?”

Jan blushed. “No… not right now… I’m single.” She said with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find someone sooner than you think.”

Jan didn’t want to say that she already had someone in mind but the circumstances weren’t ideal for that…

“Alright, I’m ready. Shall we?” Nicky opened the door and Jan jumped out of the bed.

On their way through the hallways, Jan learned that Nicky was a fashion design sophomore, that she had moved from France five years ago with her family, and that she was very much in love with her girlfriend.

Nicky was also an excellent guide. She explained to Jan everything she needed to know about the dorms way better than the instructor in the morning. She showed her the laundry room –always bring the exact number of coins because that bitch swallows all the money and never gives change-, the communal lounge –we come here sometimes to binge-watch movies or TV shows, last year we spent thirteen hours watching Love Island- and finally the shared bathroom which Jan already knew but it was part of the tour –I don’t care what they say, always wear flip flops in the showers, trust me.

It was almost the time they had set for the dinner and Nicky was supposed to pick up Jaida and Jackie from their dorm.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” She asked when they were in front of Nicky’s room. Jan had already told her she wasn’t going but the blonde still inquired in case she had changed her mind.

Jan nodded. “I haven’t been in my room in all day and… as much as I’d love to go with you guys, I just need a moment to let everything sink and absorb this like a sponge.”

Nicky smiled at her. “Alright, but next time, you must come with us.”

Jan was happy, people would invite you once out of courtesy but twice was a sign they had a really good impression of her and it was mostly thanks to Jackie.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world.”

“Great. I’ll see you around, ma voisine.”

“I don’t know what you’ve just said but it sounded fancy so I’ll take it. Wait, let me see if I remember how to say it… Au revoir.”

“Ah, very good. Bye, Jan.”

“Bye… have fun!”

The first thing she noticed was that the door of her room was open. That could mean either she was getting robbed, evicted, or…

She peeped over the door frame, there were some boxes stacked in the middle but the opposite half of the room that didn’t belong to her was now personalized.

The bed on the left side had pink blankets, pillows, heart-shaped fur cushions, and a matching white fur rug next to it; the white desk was full of textbooks, makeup, and perfumes meanwhile the drawers seemed to be full with clothes now. A black and white picture of Barbra Streisand was hung above the bed, a Marilyn Monroe poster on one of the walls, and a star-shaped mirror with lightbulbs now enlightened the place.

Jan felt for a moment that she had been teleported to a different dimension –Barbie dollhouse, perhaps- because in comparison to her pretty standard side with striped white and blue sheets, organizers, and barely decorated walls, the other behalf looked like a Broadway dressing room. She regretted not buying those yellow Christmas lights she had told her mom were too much.

“Can I help you?” Someone made her turn around.

It was a girl with pastel pink hair, pretty green eyes and long lashes, lip gloss, a pink Juicy Couture tracksuit, slippers, and a box on her hands.

“I live here…” Jan attempted to say, still stunned by the presence of the other girl.

“Oh! So you’re Janice.”

“Yeah, I’m Jan, in the flesh…”

“I’m Rose, I’m your roommate… actually, I go by Rosé because I like to annoy people when they have to write the checkmark… and it also sounds elegant as fuck.”

“Nice.” She smiled. “Did you just get in?”

“Kind of, I guess the people from administration told you the rooms were being reassigned and everything with the dropouts and final counts. I was originally in the B dorms and then that changed but… I’m here now.”

“Oh my God, it must have been a burden to move from there to here…”

“Nah, it’s fine. My former roommate was a bitch so I’m glad I don’t have to share with her anymore. It’s a win for me.”

“I hope so… I’m not a bitch, I suppose…”

“You seem nice, we’ll get along.” She winked. “I’m sorry for the mess, by the way, I thought I was going to be done by now but I still have all these boxes sitting around.”

“Oh please, don’t. I’m sure it’s been stressful to move from there to here in a day.”

“You see, you’re already better than my last roommate.”

Jan smiled. “Let me help you with those.”

“Ah, please, don’t worry about it, there are just a few empty boxes I should take out.”

“I insist.” Jan didn’t wait for a response, she started picking boxes and putting them inside bigger boxes.

“Wait, let me change my shoes then.”

Once they were done collecting the boxes, Jan walked with Rosé downstairs, outside the building where the dumpsters and recycling bins were. On their way there, they started talking about where they were from, their families…

“…and then we moved from Houston again and now I’m here.”

“That’s so cool. So you’re the oldest of the three?”

“Shh, don’t say it aloud. But yes, I’m a big sister.”

“Aw, it sounds like you’re so close with your siblings… I only have one older brother but we don’t get along since we were kids. We barely interact during the holidays and birthdays.”

“That’s sad. I can’t imagine not having a good relationship with my siblings.”

“Yeah, we were like really competitive when we were younger and I was resentful because he always had it easier than me. I had to work twice harder to achieve the same things, you know?”

“Well, now you’re here on your own and you don’t need to compete with him to prove anything to anyone. You can be yourself.”

“Yeah, it’s a relief, I’m not going to lie.” She dropped the last box inside the recycling bin. “That’s it. We’re done here.”

“Hey, I have an idea. There’s a place nearby that sells the best pizza you’ll ever taste around campus. What do you say if we get one and go back to the lounge upstairs to know each other better since we’re stuck together?”

“Sounds perfect, yeah.”

Maybe her day had started a little off but it had been going uphill since the moment she met Jackie. Speaking of which, she should’ve texted her or something to thank her again.

“Wait, I’m just going to text a friend if you don’t mind and then we can get on our way.”

“Go ahead.”

She unlocked her phone and typed a quick message for Jackie C.

To Jackie C.: Hi Jackie, this is Jan! I just wanted to thank you again for being so kind to me since the very first moment we’ve met. I really appreciate it and I hope we can continue being friends this year! Anyway, I just met my roommate and we’re getting pizza for dinner, yay! :D

After pressing send, she followed Rosé’s lead.

They talked some more on their way to the pizza place, Rosé was a theatre major –clearly- and a sophomore like Nicky, she also sang –Jan would discover later on that Rosé liked to sing everything and even made some songs that sounded like jingles- and danced; she promised Jan she would show her some steps someday. Then they changed the subject to Jan’s day and she told the pink-haired girl everything about the chaotic mess that had been her morning, her schedules, professors, classmates…

It was very easy to talk with Rosé, they clicked right away and maybe it was because she was an older sister to her siblings but she made Jan feel like she had gained a sister on her roommate –even when it was soon to say it.

They ordered a pizza with extra cheese, walked back to the dorms with the smoky box and sat on one of the sofas of the lounge rooms –there just a couple more girls watching TV or doing homework so they had the place for themselves basically-, finally, Jan decided to open up and talk about her impossible crush on her best friend. Rosé listened carefully to each word.

“God, I wish we had some wine here… but tomorrow’s school day or whatever. Please, continue.”

“That’s it…? I haven’t done anything and I don’t think it’s worth the risk.”

“What?!” There was cheese on the corner of her mouth but she wiped it quickly. “Are you joking? What’s stopping you from chasing the guy of your dreams?”

“The fact that he doesn’t see me at all… he’s always with some other girl who’s prettier than me.”

“Baby, what are you saying right now? You’re gorgeous.” Rosé held her hands firmly. “Jan, I’m not saying this because you’re my roommate but you’re a lovely person and if he doesn’t want to be with you it’s his lost… one hundred percent.”

“Thank you.” Jan sobbed. “Are all the girls here this nice?”

“My former roommate certainly doesn’t fall in the category.” They chuckled.

“It’s only… I’m never around girls this much and you and Jackie and…”

“Jackie? Who’s Jackie?”

“Oh, Jackie is a friend… she said it’s okay if I call her a friend. In any case, she’s the girl that works in the copy room and she helped me right away with my papers and had lunch with me when I was upset about Nathan… she’s really great.”

“Wait, I might know her from the copy room. I don’t mean to contradict you but she always gave me «don’t come too close or I’ll kill you» vibes, but maybe it’s just me.”

“No… it can’t be, maybe you’re mistaking her for someone else.”

Jackie ignored everyone’s inquisitive stares and pretended to read the menu.

Jaida, Nicky, and Heidi were waiting for her to say something meanwhile Widow had no clue what was going on.

After the waiter took their order, the menu-shield she had was gone and her friends were still eager to know what was on her mind.

“What?” She finally broke the silence.

“So this girl Jan… she’s a real sweetheart.” Nicky casually commented while drumming with her long acrylic nails on the table.

“She is… She’s also very straight so don’t even try it.”

They all protested and grumbled.

“Wait, who’s Jan?” Widow finally dared to ask.

“To my knowledge,” Heidi began. “She’s a freshman from New Jersey that plays baseball.”

“And Jackie looks at her as if she had hung the stairs in the sky.” Jaida pointed out, exposing the brunette.

“Oop-” Heidi eloquently added.

“That’s not true.” She objected. “Don’t believe a word from what they say, Widow. The girl was lost and I helped her out, that’s it. She also happens to be friendly so we had lunch together.”

“Didn’t you gain a reputation for being this severe resting-bitch-face girl from the copy room?”

“Yeah, because otherwise, freshmen stick to you like ants to honey. Look at Heidi, I was nice to her once last year and now she’s here permanently.”

“Hey!” The girl complained.

“But you let her be behind the counter,” Jaida called out. “you don’t let anyone do that.”

“You don’t even let us do that.” Nicky continued.

“You can walk across the counter?” A very confused Heidi asked. “Is that allowed?”

Widow who didn’t say anything observed how everything went down while sipping her drink, amused.

“Listen, all of you, Jan is straight, repeat it and memorize it. She’s in love with some baseball player named Nathan she met when she was ten and she probably has already picked a wedding dress and the name for their children so I don’t see the point of this… suggestive… conversation.”

They remained silent, just at that moment their food arrived.

Jackie was starving but before she could taste the first bite, her phone vibrated inside her purse.

It was from an unknown number but it was the text message she had been waiting for.

From Unknown Number: Hi Jackie, this is Jan! I just wanted to thank you again for being so kind to me since the very first moment we’ve met. I really appreciate it and I hope we can continue being friends this year! Anyway, I just met my roommate and we’re getting pizza for dinner, yay! :D

Oh, thank goodness her roommate was nice.

As soon as she read her name, a smile grew on her face and didn’t go unnoticed.

“Is that her?” Widow asked Heidi who was sitting next to Jackie.

Heidi tried to snoop over her phone and carefully nodded in affirmation.

Jackie glared at them.

“She’s just saying thank you.”

“I’m not concerned about the content of the message, it’s the reaction you had to it.” Jaida looked at her friend in the eye. “Jackie, you’re one of my closest friends, I just don’t want you to get hurt for liking a straight girl.”

“You don’t need to worry about it; I’m not going to catch feelings for her.”

Her friend squinted. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

“How did you save her name?”

“Excuse me?”

“On your phone. Is it Jan or is it Jan plus some cutesy emoji?”

“What’s that have to do with anything?”

“It has everything to do.”

The brunette rolled her eyes “I just saved it as Jan. Like I have you all listed. Happy? Can we eat? I’m hungry.”

“Okay…” Jaida cut the slack. “I’ll take it.”

“You had me saved as «Heidi freshman» for over a year.”

“And now you’re «Heidi sophomore».”

To Jan 🐻: I’m glad I was helpful today and it’s so great to hear your roommate is actually nice. Know you can text me whenever you want or come to hang out with me to the copy room :)

[hopebird123]

Requiem

Bucky Barnes/Reader

Warnings: Drinking, child death

She could only hope he would find them and read them. She had gone through so much without him.

She sat up on the bed, reaching over with shaking hands to the side table to retrieve the shoebox. One of the nurses had suggested moving the box to make room for flowers, but she’d refused several times. There wasn’t anyone to bring her any, anyways.

She opened the box carefully, trying not to damage any of the envelopes inside it. Every one except for the most recent one had turned a light yellow, no longer the crisp white they had been when the letters were written. They were fragile, too, and sometimes she didn’t trust her constantly shaking hands to be gentle with them.

She’d put the dates that each one was composed on the flap of the envelope, because the amount of times she’d sift through the box and pick one up was now in the thousands, and she’d have no idea if they were in the right order without them.

Just by the dates, she could remember what each one said. Or, mostly perfectly. One’s memory would naturally be a little rusty at a couple years more than ninety years old.

Dearest Bucky, she’d written for the very first letter.

It’s been three days since I received the telegram and this is the first time I’ve been able to get up from my bed. I’ve cried so much I’ve used all my handkerchiefs, and I’ve used about half of yours, waiting for mine to dry. I look like a mess. You’d probably think I had the flu or something. I’m afraid to even walk past the mirror. But I miss you. I keep glancing at the clock and thinking you’re going to come home from work at any second, and then I break down when I remember that you’re not.

I wish you were here right now. You’d probably put on a cocky smile and tell me to cheer up, and then you’d crack a joke. I guess there’s none of that anymore. No more staying up until three in the morning on Friday nights and talking about what we’re going to do once you get back from the war...

She remembered this one. She was no more than twenty years old, had barely been married for a year, when she’d received the news of his death. She’d often wondered what her life would be like if he hadn’t gone to war.

Dearest Bucky,

It hit me again yesterday. After the last letter, I thought I was managing. But there were a few groups of soldiers in the streets yesterday that were home on leave, coming home and kissing their wives and girlfriends, and I kept hoping maybe you’d come back and I’d be one of those lucky girls.

I’m probably being selfish. There’s thousands of other women who’s husbands and sons aren’t coming back yet, or at all, and they’re probably dealing with it better than I’ve been. My eyes are so red I can barely see out of them. Your pillow no longer smells like you…

She remembered the night she settled down for bed and realized his pillow didn’t smell like him anymore. She’d dabbed a bit of his cologne onto the pillowcase with shaking hands, knowing very well that she wouldn’t be able to sleep without finding a solution. It worked, a little bit. But it was missing something purely him.

He smelled like his cologne, but also faintly of cigarettes, whiskey, and something she couldn’t describe, but if someone had put it in front of her, she’d be able to say, “That’s Bucky."

Dearest Bucky,

I’m sorry I haven’t written anything for quite a while. I’ve been so busy lately. Remember what I told you the night before you left for the war? Well, the baby’s finally here. I have a picture of her I’m putting in the envelope. She’s so beautiful. She has my nose, but everything else is yours. Your eyes are identical, and it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

You always said you thought if we had a girl you’d like to name her after your sister, so that’s what I named her. Rebecca Janine Barnes. She’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen, I just can’t get over it. I don’t think I ever will. She’s so peaceful, too, and likes to grab my fingers and laugh. The old lady who lives next door says it’s probably just gas, that she’s too young to laugh, but I don’t think so.

I wish you could be here to hold her. You would be so proud…

That had been one of the happiest days of her life, when their daughter was born. There was a little baby that was half of each of them, and she felt like she was reunited with a part of Bucky.

Dearest Bucky,

I love you.

Sometimes those three words were all she’d write, when she didn’t know what else to put down on paper. They were all she needed to say.

Dearest Bucky,

I haven’t written in a while. Forgive me.

Little Rebecca passed away last month. The doctor said it was a cold at first, and then it turned into pneumonia.

I can only hope that wherever she is, she’s with you now. You’ll be able to get to know her, and you’ll be able to love her as much as I do.

I’ve lost the two most important things in my life and I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s too hard to keep regaining my footing when I have nothing left...

She could barely remember the next few years after that terrible event. She’d lost the last thing connecting her to Bucky, and she was all alone in the world. There was no longer the sound of tiny feet making their way into the room, or little hands clinging onto her skirt and following her around. So she started drinking. She quickly turned into a machine, going to work in the morning and then coming home and downing a half a bottle.

Dearest Bucky,

I don’t know if it was you last night, or my drunken mess who moved your slippers from under the dresser to under your side of the bed. I hope it was you. But maybe it was a sign that I have to get my life back together. It had to have been a sign, and on what would have been Rebecca's sixth birthday, too.

I’m trying. I haven’t had a drink tonight. I know it’s not as easy as that, and it won’t be, but I can only imagine what your reaction would be if you saw me these last few years. I’m going to try to find a smaller apartment, with less sad memories, and maybe a new job. There’s too many ghosts here...

Dearest Bucky,

It’s been decades since I wrote to you last. I moved and got a job at a diner in Queens after the last letter. It took a while to fix myself. I’m okay now.

I’ve heard plenty about you on the news lately. You never died, after all. I found Steve, and talked to him on the phone the other day, too. He’s coming here to visit me tomorrow. I’ve decided I’m going to give him the letters to give to you. Maybe you’ll read them when you’re doing better.

I want you to know that I don’t hate you for what you were turned into. Yes, Steve told me all about that. But I don’t hate you. Anyone else in the same position would be doing the same things you were.

I don’t think I’ll be able to see you again, truth be told. Bucky, I’m dying. The doctors say I have a few weeks left at most.

I’m sorry we never got to grow old together like we wanted to. I’m just glad that you’ve gotten a second chance at life, and that you have Steve to help you through it. I want you to be happy, and I want you to experience the things we always said we were going to do together.

I’ll give Steve the address of the cemetery Rebecca is buried in, if you’d like to see her. That’s where I’ll be, too.

I love you, Bucky. I always have and I always will.

With tears in her eyes she put the letters back in the box, closing it again. She hoped he’d read them.

[rydenstories]

I found a journal in my hotel room

REDDIT

My girlfriend and I are just finishing up road tripping around the US, seeing concerts, attending festivals, visiting landmarks, etc. As you can imagine, we've seen a ton. It's been great, but by the time we started our long journey back to our home state, the trip had taken a lot out of us. Not just physical exhaustion, we'd nearly drained our savings for the trip as well. The plan had always been to drive straight through, taking turns at the wheel while the other slept. With tension rising as time passed, the plan quickly changed and we looked for the cheapest (but still nicest) hotel we could find.

Later, we found ourselves pulling up to the building directly next to the highway that would be our haven for the night; a cheap chain hotel with a bright sign that read "NIGHTLY $4O, WEEKLY $200" and a giant parking lot nearly packed full of semi-trucks. There are two more hotels on the same side of the highway underpass similar to this, two gas stations, and a fast food restaurant. The crowning feature of this small area, however, is a goliath stone cross that almost looms from the other side of the highway. It towers over everything, including the church that stands behind it and is illuminated by two bright white spotlights. To be truthful with you, this SOUNDS very odd when typed out but after weeks of driving past countless places like this, it's all just something I've come to shrug off as very mid-west.

The lobby wasn't packed like the parking lot, but there were more people wandering around the main floor than I'm used to seeing in near any hotel. Mostly gentlemen, reading books, eating cup noodle, watching the news, and chatting joyfully. It actually kind of reminded me of living in the dorms during college. Very friendly environment. I found myself surprised at how just... nice everything was for how not nice you'd expect it to be, you know? Still, we didn't really pause to reflect on that before checking in and quickly rushing to our room. My girlfriend did a quick check of her side of the bed and was asleep within minutes, but even with how tired I felt, I couldn't bring myself to go to bed so early and decided to check over the entire room.

Fairly clean. Carpet was really new, too. Not bad for the price. I sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling satisfied enough. Still, I pulled out the nightstand drawer, more-so to satisfy my curiosity about hotel bibles than anything else. Instead, there is this dark blue composition notebook. I've been reading it for a little while now.

It seems to be a journal, with many of the entries summing up the mostly uneventful days of the writer, a truck driver with a wife named Lynae. The writing itself is really messy and although I can tell that the author is deeply thought and well spoken, many of the larger words are spelled phonetically; smart, just not book smart. The journal is really full and some of the earlier entries are really interesting, detailing run-ins with hitchhikers and feuds with other drivers. The entries stop very abruptly and the last few are particularly unsettling. I can't be entirely sure, but I think those were written in this room. These are the last few entries. I've copied them down and done corrections to make it overall more legible, but otherwise I haven't changed anything.

___________________________________________

July 27th The money is in and it is good! I knew Bone would come through for me on that last haul. Now I just gotta get the rig back home! I'm glad I finally have the money to stop and rest in a real bed, too. The old cabin just ain't as comfortable as it used to be. Maybe that's what I'll be fixing next! I called Lynae and let her know I was coming home and she near squealed over the phone. I'm thinking now's the time to get her that pretty ring. Anyway, I saw Monty again today and asked if he was gonna return my MP3 player but he just kind of shrugged me off. It was pretty damn rude, actually. Knew his parents didn't teach him manners. He just got up in his truck, wasn't even gonna stick around. Weird actually, he almost always sacks up for the night, doesn't like driving after dark. Oh well, hope he enjoys a nice night drive! All over nothing!

Anyway, seems time to hit the hay! I'll be headed out tomorrow morning and I'll hopefully be home for supper!

July 28th Woke up this morning with the worst kind of headache. You know the kind that stings behind the eyes, burns your nose? Awful. Soon as I got out of the bed, the nausea hits. Damn it! Happens after every long haul; I get some bug off some dirty oldie who ain't never heard of antibacterial soap and I have to sleep it off in some crummy hotel. Fucking figures. Anyway. Seems like this place is much less crowded than last night and near all of the fellas that are here are total strangers to me. I wandered around a little bit, went to the lobby and grabbed some good stuff from the snack machines. Hung out for a few minutes, too, but instead of the normal circulation of news and talk TV, the counter girl was watching some weird black and white film. I ended up just going back to my room, throwing up a little, and getting some sleep. I napped until now, which it's pretty late. I'm getting 1 AM on my room's alarm clock.

I went downstairs to grab some clean clothes from my rig and smoke a cigarette but the front and side doors of the building were locked. I didn't see any employees around though, so I figure they're on their late night break. I hung out down there for a while and waited for someone to come open it but gave up eventually. If I'm being honest, I was feeling a little uncomfortable. It was too damn quiet. Plus, that church changed the lights shining on that giant cross. They're red. What a weird color for a church to pick. I don't know, maybe the fever is just making me loopy and paranoid. I better try to get some more sleep.

July 29th When I woke up this morning, the alarm clock said it was already well past noon. I thought it couldn't have been right because it was still pitch black in my room, no light shining through the open curtains at all. I got up and sure enough, it was still pitch black outside. So I figured my clock was broken. I guess the fever's got me feeling more and more irritable since I got here, otherwise I don't think I would've even brought it up let alone complained, but I yanked the cord from the wall and left my room.

The lobby was still empty, door still locked, and no employees in sight. I rang the little bell on the counter but nobody came. Hell, I waited in that lobby for a damn hour and nobody came! I'm starting to feel worse, too. My head is pounding so hard and I can't get any damn medicine since I've searched high and low for an unlocked exit and found not a single one. I don't really have any choice except to lay down and rest. Tried to watch TV, but all it's pulling is the weather channel and black & white movies, so I guess I've been watching the weather channel for a couple hours now. I'm going to try to rest more.

Oh. By the time I turned on the weather channel, it was saying it was 2 PM. The clock for sure was not wrong, but I have yet to see any sign of the sun.

August 2nd It's still dark outside and according to the weather channel's date, I'm missing some days. My head is so foggy that if I didn't remember at least a little from the other day, I don't think I'd question the initial notion that I just... slept through it from being so damn sick! I'm not sure that's what this is anymore. I'm not sure what this is at all anymore and frankly, I'm scared as shit.

The bit I can remember is only a small sliver of time. I got up and near shit my pants when I saw that not only was the alarm clock plugged back in, the damn thing was set again. I remember checking the door to find that the privacy lock was sure enough in place. Unlocked it and I swung open the door but then it all goes blank after that. Now I'm here and it's more than a day later and there's some kind of music coming from somewhere. Searched for it but found nothing.

As for the cross, they turned the lights off all together. I went up to the fourth floor to get a good look outside. Seems like everyone just left... All the haulers.... Gas station attendants.... Highway drivers.... Everyone. My rig is the only one in the parking lot. I'm beyond scared... I could break out but I'm so weak.

Aug 3rd My door was open when I woke up. All the doors to all the rooms are open. People's things are sitting around but there are no people. I've stopped pretending that this is normal. Something is so fucking wrong here and I can't even find a single clue as to what's happening or why it's just me. I've slammed my whole body weight into doors, searched high and low for keys or any damn thing that might help me get out of here. Nothing. It doesn't even seem like there's a world out there anymore. Like something just picked the hotel up, emptied all the people out besides me, and let darkness swallow the rest of it up. I can't see anything beyond the parking lot. Somewhere out in the vastness, though, I can hear that music from yesterday. It's something low, with a lady's voice singing over a very slow and out of key piano. She sounds sad but I can't make out what she's actually saying. I think I would be more concerned if the noise itself didn't make my headache so much worse. Instead, I just feel angry.

[[The entries no longer have dates after this and I can only assume they are each separated by at least a day just due to the previous writing pattern, but who knows.]]

xxxx I've spent a lot of time wandering around the hotel. At first, I tried closing all the tenant doors again. It made me uncomfortable to see them that way, but as soon as I'd hear the latch and I'd turn away, they'd loudly swing open again. Scared me shitless, as you can imagine. Then, after a couple more times, pissed me off. Even despite my fucking throbbing headache, all of the rage within my chest spilled out of my throat in a torrent of screams. As you probably could guess. My screams haven't received a response beyond that same sad song that only gets closer. Or louder. I don't know.

I've started searching through the rooms. Going through people's things. I wonder where they are. Did they get to leave? Or did they go somewhere else? I'm still not sure. Does it even matter? Things are getting worse for me regardless what happened to them. 

xxxxx The parking lot is gone. It seems like the closer the darkness creeps towards this place, the worse my headaches get. I've tried to move to a higher room to get away from the darkness, but then I wake up back in my original room again. The weather doesn't play anymore, but the black and white film channel does. I've tried to sit down and watch it, but after a couple minutes, it ends up being far too painful. I can't... describe the pain. It's everywhere. It's in everything, god damn it.

xxxxxx First floor is gone. The cross is back though. It's illuminated in that same strange red light, taunting me from out in the darkness.

I've been through every inch of this damn place, trying to find some kind of haven away from this madness. I tried to go downstairs at one point. Into the darkness. My ears are bleeding now but I made it back to my room in one piece. 

xxxxxxx Oh god. Dear Jesus Christ. Her singing is now screaming. The piano is grating. I wanna go home.

xxxxxxxxx I think this very well might be it. If you'd believe it, the higher floors went before this one, making it damn clear that this has always been coming down to me. It's been coming for me since I got here. I think even Monty could sense it.

Despite having every light in the room on, as well as every single one I could steal from this floor, it just keeps on growing dimmer. The girl. She's not screaming anymore. She doesn't need to scream. She knows I hear her. It's like she's right over my fucking shoulder, whispering right in my ear. And just like that, someone is knocking on the door. Darkness is seeping underneath like black smoke and I know I don't need to answer. It's creeping over the pages, up my arms, shoulders, face, and into my mouth.

Lynae, I'll miss you. ___________________________________________

I'm really.... shocked. It could easily be.... anything..... but something between the too comfortable vibe in the lobby, the handwriting, and the overall feeling I've had since picking the journal up absolutely tells me that there's something to this. Now that I've got it all copied down, I'm getting my girlfriend up. We're taking this journal down to the front desk. God fucking willing, we're leaving as soon as we can.

[am-i-invisible777]

The Dragon Egg

Here’s just something I wrote for creative writing that I decided to share here. The story is about a middle-schooler named Drake who is convinced he’s found a dragon egg. 

“I have a baby dragon,” Drake whispered to the boy next to him. The boy in return scrunched his face up, refusing to look away from the equation he was struggling to complete. Drake scooted in his seat, leaning toward the boy while keeping his eyes on the preoccupied teacher. “It’s technically still in its egg…but it’s bound to hatch any day now.”

“Leave me alone,” the boy mumbled under his breath, tapping the numbers of the old calculator provided by the school. 

“You wanna know where I found it? Wanna know how I’ve been able to keep a dragon egg hidden away from my parents and the government?” Drake continued, his half-completed math assignment completely forgotten as he looked at the uninterested classmate.  

“No. Shut up.” The boy said, glaring as he wrote down the wrong answer to the equation.

“My dad and I were finally going on this hike he promised me a while back by this trail that’s near Mr. Greenshire’s farms. When I stopped to tie my shoe, I looked over and there’s this big blue egg just chillin by this thorny bush. The second I saw it, I knew it must’ve belonged to a dragon. A real dragon, not those domestic ones.” Drake whispered excitedly, moving his hands along as he recounted the story.

“Dragons don’t exist.” He harshly whispered.

“And so I went over to it and put the egg in my bag before dad could even notice. It was lighter than it looked though. I thought it would be around five pounds max but that thing barely weighed a pound. And so when I got home—"

“Drake. This is an independent assignment. Please focus on your own work and stop talking to Alex.” The teacher called out, causing a few students to look at the two boys.

“Finally,” Alex sighed, writing down another wrong answer. Drake sunk back into his seat, a deep frown forming across his face. With a low sigh, he picked up his chewed pencil with no eraser and began drawing dragons in the margins.

 The last bell of the day rung at exactly 2:18 p.m. and Drake never reached the school bus before 2:20 p.m., except for the two times his class was held in the downstairs library. The school bus was old, with torn seats with dull writing on the backside and gum stuck to the sides and underneath. It was always too hot, the only fan being right next to the bus driver. The yellow bus smelled of mothballs and twenty-eight sweaty students. Sometimes it’d smell like the food someone had snuck in, given the fact it wasn’t allowed on the bus, even though the driver never cared. It wasn’t uncommon for some to have to sit three to a seat, four if someone was bringing their friends over, but Drake never had to worry about that. This time, he sat alone near the front of the bus in the seat right underneath the part of the bus that leaked when it rained. He preferred to be alone anyways.

Despite living in the same neighborhood for nearly his entire life, Drake barely knew any of his neighbors or the kids who always rode the bus with him for the past nine years. He tried to make friends, tried to meet and talk to new people, but it never went well. More often than not nowadays he mostly avoided his classmates, wanting to be by himself or with his close friend and next-door neighbor, Kai.

The bus jerked and squeaked as it came to a stop, its doors whining as the driver forced them open. Drake quipped a quick ‘thank you’ in an octave higher than his normal voice, he jumped down the steps and ran to his house.

He had to check on the egg, the dragon egg. His dragon egg. Upon arriving in his driveway, he noticed the absence of two vehicles, meaning that neither parent was home at the moment. Also meaning that his father was either seeing his new girlfriend or buying something for said girlfriend with the money his mother made since she was the only one in the house who actually worked. It also meant he was stuck going to Kai’s house since he left his key inside as he rushed to make it to the bus on time this morning.

He rung the doorbell twice before stepping back, adjusting the straps on his backpack and taking a moment to glare at the large, ugly sign in the front of the yard, the red letters spelling ‘SOLD’ seeming to mock him. Exactly fifteen seconds later, Kai’s older sister answered the door, letting Drake in as they exchanged a small greeting. Maneuvering around the boxes scattered everywhere and running up the carpet steps, he reached Kai’s door, the first one on the right, and knocked on it twice.

“Come in” Kai’s muffled voice called from just beyond the closed door. Drake swung the door open, not bothering to close it again, and gave his friend a smile.

“Hey Kai. How was the dentist?”

“Meh. They always tell me the same stuff. Floss more, drink less soda, yadda yadda. My wisdom teeth are apparently coming in soon. Weird right? Hope I don’t have to get them removed,” they shrugged, laying on the bed with a history book and highlighter beside them.

“I think it’d be funny,” Drake commented, taking his bag off and sitting on the floor. “Like when Hannah got her teeth pulled and she—”

“Was crying by the slushie machine at the gas station while hugging a puppy keychain? Yeah, no thanks,” Kai chuckled, remembering how their sister had behaved after the anesthetics. “So what’d I miss in Howl’s class?”

“Oh, basically nothing. We just started a new unit. Everyone’s confused,” Drake said.

“Good.”

The two were silent for a few moments, Kai preoccupied with highlighting paragraphs and Drake with staring at his phone, waiting for one of his parents to answer his texts.

“…do you think my dragon misses me?”

Kai sighed loudly, rolling their eyes. “Here we go again…”

“No, seriously. At this point it already knows and recognizes my voice. Also! What if it hatches? And I’m not there? I’ve been thinking about taking a few days off of school to tend to it after it comes into our world. I’ll need to train it,” Drake started rambling, fidgeting with his phone and he shifted uncomfortably on the floor.

“Drake, we’ve had this conversation about a million times before,”

“No, you’ve never paid attention when I talk about it!”

“Well, can you blame me?!” Kai sighed and rolled over onto their back, staring at the ceiling. “For the past, like, five weeks, that damn egg has been the only thing you want to talk about. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of telling you something that a ten-year-old already knows!” Kai turned back over to stare at Drake. “Buddy. Listen to me,” they pointed to their mouth. “Dragons. Don’t. Exist.”

“But—”

“No, no buts. What middle schooler still believes in dragons? Fire-breathing, flying, mythical dragons?” Kai asked, frustrated.

Drake remained silent, looking down at the floor as his hands trembled slightly. Although Kai didn’t raise their voice, Drake still felt like he was being yelled at and wanted to crawl away. “…maybe if the dragon could fly…and grew to be the size of a tree…I could come visit you in California…” he mumbled, his voice weak as he tried to keep it from trembling. Everyone hated it when his voice trembled.

Kai breathed deeply, facial features softening as they watched Drake struggle to keep still. “…I’m sorry, but that’s just…impossible.” They whispered. “I’m tired of talking about dragons…I just wanna have a normal conversation with you before I leave…that’s it.”

“…I gotta go home now,” Drake softly said, standing up with his bag. “…I’ll see you tomorrow.” He dragged his feet to the door and exited before Kai could say, ‘yeah, see you tomorrow.’

After leaving, Drake sat at the front steps of his house, still staring at his phone and periodically texting his parents to see when they were going to be home. He reviewed his list of dragon names while he waited, the notes organized by categories such as gender, color, element, and the presence of wings or not. He decided to erase the name ‘Kai’ from the list.

Precisely nineteen minutes later, he received a text from his father saying he’ll be there in five minutes. Thirty-seven minutes after that, his red Subaru rolled up to the driveway. The first thing he did was yell at Drake for forgetting his key. Once his father let him in, he ran upstairs, ignoring the comments made behind him and threw open his bedroom door. Right on top of his bed, wrapped up in twenty-two different blankets, underneath two lamps, was his baby dragon egg. He walked up to it, slowly and tossing his bag to the floor.

“Hey there little guy, didja miss me?” he asked softly, as if he were speaking to a baby. The egg, of course, didn’t answer. He patted the egg gently. “Yeah, I missed you too, buddy. The day sucks until you’re there.” He carefully moved to sit on the bed. “You can hatch now, you know. I read that you guys stay in your eggs for two months, and I’ve had you for a little over six weeks now.” He started fiddling with his thumbs. “Of course, you can come out at any time you want little friend. I’d just really really like it if you did.”  

Drake looked over to his desk, a large water tank sitting on top of it. “Is it because you don’t like the tank? I found it at a garage sale for real cheap. I kinda assumed you’d be some kind of water dragon since your egg is blue. Do you need a cage? Or a giant hot rock? My bed? I’ll give it to you!” He thought for a few seconds. “Are you not warm enough? Here, you can have my sweater.” He took off his large green hoodie and wrapped it around the already completely covered egg. “…please hatch soon.”

After talking with the egg for a couple of minutes, the front door opened and closed loudly, meaning that his mother was home. Not even three seconds later did both parents get into an argument about Drake not being able to get inside. He groaned and covered his ears, a futile attempt at blocking them out.

“Why, why, why, why…” Drake grumbled. He stared apologetically at the egg. “I’m sorry about them…again.” He sighed. “Dad says Mom’s just “upset” cause of his new girlfriend and Mom says Dad’s upset cause she’s “winning the legal battle” but I don’t care.” He laid down next to the egg. “Here’s another life tip I forgot to mention lil friend. Never take sides when your parents are fighting…you just end up hurt by both of them, no matter what you do and there aren’t any right answers either.” He hugged one of his pillows to keep his hands preoccupied. “…least you’ll never have to know what that’s like.”

Squeak

“What?!” Drake bolted upright quickly, almost knocking one of the lamps down. A small tap taptap tap could be heard coming from the egg, along with tiny squeaks. “Oh, oh…oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, you’re hatching!” A mix of panic and excitement bubbled up from his gut as he moved the lamps away. Pulling out his phone and going into the open page he found about early dragon care, he reread the passage he had looked over dozens of times. “Okay, okay, okay, uhh…”

Drake bounced up, sprinting to the corner of his room where a box had been placed. He lifted it up, retrieving one of the hamburgers from underneath. “Okay, so “The Life of a Dragon” s-says you’re gonna be really hungry when you hatch, so I got your first meal right here,” he said, placing the wrapped burger next to the squeaking egg as he carefully unwrapped the blankets. “It’s okay friend, it’s okay. I’m here. I won’t’ abandon you…I won’t hurt you, I swear, I’m not gonna leave you.” He cooed softly. Large cracks were already forming on one spot of the large blue dragon egg. With every tap tap heard, Drake could see the cracks expand and rise. “You can do it!”

“Drake! Come down here, now!”

Drake froze. In all his excitement, he temporarily forgot the verbal abuse that was taking place in the background.

“Uh, j-just a sec Mom!” he called out, rubbing the egg with his thumbs. “C’mon, buddy, come on…”

“Now!” Her demanding voice called out, louder and angry. Drake was too afraid to move for a second, looking from his door to his egg. With a sad sigh, he gave the egg a quick kiss before running out of his door and down the stairs, just in time to see his father stomp away and slam the door, the house shaking slightly from the force. Ten seconds later, a car engine roared.

Drake looked over to his mother, his fingers trembling and foot tapping against the floor. She sat at the kitchen table, rubbing her temples.

“Drake, would you do mommy a favor and call your father. Tell him he’s not allowed back into this house until he starts paying bills and stops eating all our food.” She wearily said, shaking her head. Drake looked up the stairs.

“…Is…um, is that all, ma’am?” he asked, attempting to keep his voice normal.

“Not yet, where has your father hidden the aspirin this time?” she stood up and looked at him, bags under her red eyes.

“Uh…it’s the…s-second cabinet on the left,” he said, pointing in the correct direction. She nodded her head and turned to the cabinet. Drake took this as his opportunity to run back upstairs.

“Drake, sweetie, before you go upstairs,” she called out as Drake was only four steps away from the top. “Please remember to slow down when you speak and talk clearly, we don’t want to have to send you back to speech therapy. And stop shaking around so much.” He looked down at his twitching hands.

“…Yes Mom!” he tried to say as clearly as possible before leaping up and past the four steps.

Afraid that the egg has already hatched and he’s not there for his new baby dragon, Drake practically fell over himself as he tried to hurry into his room. His phone rang—a call from his father—but he ignored it as he threw his bedroom door open, stumbling inside and looking at his bed. There, right where it was supposed to be, were the remains of the hatched egg. A few inches beside the blue egg shells, sitting down and now staring directly at him, was a goddamn Emu.    

[chadnevett]

Who is Superman?

[From my 2011 Blogathon, a six-part series of posts making up a meditation on Superman in the previous decade...]

Earlier this year, I reread It's a Bird... by Steven T. Seagle and Teddy Kristiansen for the first time since it first came out. A Vertigo graphic novel, it's a partially autobiographic exploration of Superman by Seagle after his fictional counterpart is offered one of the Superman comics by his editor at DC. There's also a lot of family/personal stuff thrown in, but what I want to focus on is the Superman stuff. Seagle offers so many differing views and approaches and takes on the character in this story that it seems like the natural starting place to begin with. That so many are divorced from traditional views of the character, breaking him down to his components and their symbolic value is of particular interest to me.

Seagle first approaches Superman as a comic book character. He's the star of a comic that he read once with his brother while waiting in the hospital for reasons that become clearer later. Then, he's a character (or a title, I suppose) that he's offered to write. That these two points are where he begins is important, because, before all else, Superman is a fictional comic book superhero. He may be everything else people try to put on him, but that's where it begins. Before his role as a Christ stand-in or a film character or an image on a pillowcase, he's the figure in a comic book. He's not real, he's dispossible, he's just ink and paper. That's where he begins and, ultimately, where he ends. I'm not trying to be dismissal or lessen the character's import, by the way.

And he's a character that fictional Seagle doesn't want to write. The rest of the story is him struggling with what Superman is and what he means as his editor, his girlfriend, anyone who knows about the offer, insists he should take. He says that he doesn't relate to Superman, a problem that I sometimes share.

In breaking Superman down, Seagle offers different views. Take the costume: he gives us a short story about a teenager who wears a Superman costume to school on Halloween and, for the first time, he genuinely feels, well, super because of how people look at him. The next day, he's just his boring self again. A week later, he returns to school in the costume and is laughed at, ridiculed, labelled 'weird' and sent home. People talk about the iconic power of Superman's costume and his chest symbol, but does it hold any value when someone else is wearing those things? If you put on the costume, you're not super, you're not Superman -- and, yet, that's the thing so closely identified with him than anything else. Is it ultimately an empty symbol?

Later, in examining the colours of the costume, Seagle breaks down the various meanings, how the primary colours come from the desire to pop and the simplicities of printing at the time of his creation. The sequence is rather stunning visually as Kristiansen uses the same pose but changes the colours. We see Superman brought down to just blue or the red, yellow, and blue switched around. That those versions of the costume don't look right is interesting. Is it because those colours work best this way or is it simply that we're used to Superman as is? Looking at the colours, we see rage, cowardice, and depression. There are other meanings, but I like those ones best in my scorning, mocking way.

What does the costume of Superman mean exactly? What does any costume mean? Other interpretations of the character won't bother with that entirely aside from Joe Casey's final year on Adventures of Superman where a visit to Heroville results in the soldiers that accompanied him wearing superhero costumes to walk among the populace and Superman telling them to wear their colours proud. The costume is so tied to the idea of a superhero and Superman's to him. It's not the key to his character, but it's a start...

What exactly is it about Superman that keeps people like me away? The only times I bother with the character are when a writer I already likes writes something featuring the character. I've mentioned that I can't relate to the character and that I find his lack of a struggle with heroism a turn-off. But, there are others who relate to the character incredibly. Mark Waid has often spoke of his deeply personal relationship to the character.

The costume isn't honestly an issue for me. But, it is a form of protection, a distancing mechanism. His symbol on his chest is a shield. That he has two identities, one Superman, one Clark Kent, makes Superman himself distant. We could relate to Clark kent, because he's a human from Kansas that spends much of his time pining over a woman who doesn't love him. Superman is the fantasy alter-ego that has no problems and no real challenges. His fights against crime are just things that occupy his time it seems. Except, here's the problem: Superman is the reality and Clark Kent is the fantasy. It's not like the Peter Parker/Spider-Man relationship where he's Peter first and Spider-Man is an affectation. Superman is Clark Kent is Superman. How does one relate to that?

Grant Morrison and others have placed upon Superman the idea of a modern myth, a modern god in a way. I can see where they would get that, but it's never felt right to me. Superman is 'more than human,' but in such narrow ways like physical strength and compassion. Yet, his faults are so much less than ours. He doesn't line up to traditional myths in that way. Gods were 'more than human' in every aspect, good and bad. They did everything bigger and better, including being jerks and fucking things up. They were brash, prideful, quick to anger... then again, were they skewed too far in the other direction? Superman and his benevolent nature is the opposite of that. He fights for us, not against us, as was often the case. But, that still makes him distant and hard to relate to.

When Brian Azzarello wrote the character, he took Clark Kent out of the equation. In For Tomorrow, there was an event called the Vanishing where a sizable chunk of Earth's population disappeared. It was random. One of those people was Lois Lane and, since then, it doesn't appear that Superman is Clark Kent anymore. In fact, when we finally see where the people disappeared to, the first person we see is Clark. He's a robot, but the meaning is clear: he disappeared that day too. And Azzarello's Superman is much closer to the gods and figures of myth. He retains his compassion and thoughtfulness, but also adds in a questioning and almost selfish rashness. He gets involved in the affairs of a state, alienates the Justice League, and even threatens to destroy the planet. None of these things seem within his 'character' if you pay attention to what a lot of people said about the story. And, yet, it was Superman.

Besides Batman, I'm not sure there's a superhero that's so open to interpretation like that. If that's the case, what is the core of Superman? Does it come down to him following a few simple rules? He's an Alien from Krypton, he landed in Kansas, he's Clark Kent (or was at some point), he's stronger and faster than any human, can jump high/fly, wears an outfit, fights injustice as he sees it (could be in line with laws or not), and loves Lois Lane. Is there anything else that's consistent to the character, anything essential? After all, you could argue that Azzarello got it wrong with his Superman who threatened to destroy Earth when it attacked him using elemental monsters, but... that's a Superman story. Just like the rest, it was ink and paper, and, as we've established, Superman is just a comic book character ultimately. If a comic book says he did it, he did it. Does he actually have a core character?

If he doesn't, shouldn't he be the easiest character to relate to? He's so empty, strung together from the barest of pieces of information. Look at the guidelines I set out for what Superman is at his most basic and... is there anywhere you can't go with him? Then why is he so locked into one singular image?

The Superman I grew up with was a human one. He was still an alien from Krypton, of course, but there was an emphasis on the human elements of the character. After all, he did grow up here with his powers kicking in as a teenager. That basically puts him on the same level as Marvel's mutants. The longer he's Superman, the less human he would be, yes. His powers grant him a different vantage point -- and, more importantly, so does how other people treat him. The more he's treated different, like a god, the more he would begin to see himself that way even if he didn't want to. Our self-image is shaped by how others perceive us and why would Superman be any different?

It's that outside perception of what Superman is and what he should be that locks him in so much. We look at his powers and his differences and make him different. We look at him and see the potential for a mythic figure, so he's that, too. We make him a character that's impossible to relate to and then complain that we can't relate to him!

In It's a Bird..., there's a short bit about Superman as a teen where he chooses to walk all of the way into town to see a movie, knowing that he will miss part of it, rather than fly. He knows that flying would mean exposing himself and would change how others perceive him. He would no longer be the Kent boy, someone they've known for his entire life; he would be a freak, an alien, an other. It's something so obvious, so built into what he is and who we are. Of course we don't relate to Superman -- he's the other, he's the alien! He's the benevolent outsider who protects us, but he's still an outsider. He will never be 'one of us,' not entirely.

Grant Morrison embraced that idea to a degree in All-Star Superman, treating Superman as someone that is outside of humanity and that being a good thing. In that story, Superman doesn't try to belong or fit in, near the end of his career and comfortable in his role as protector. I do like Morrison's version of the character. In concept at least. There is something very exciting and lovely about a god-like figure that loves us and wants us to love one another and is here to help us see that. SuperJesus. He's positioned above us while still enough on our level to love us. It doesn't entirely work for me always, though. It's an argument that requires us to resolve the paradox of him being better than us and no better than us. He's superior and, yet, not. It's a sort of false modesty that I find grating and patronising, honestly. It almost puts Superman in a position of owner to us, his lovable pets without wanting to recognise that.

We don't see Clark much, only a few times, and he's a bumbling, slightly overweight man that people sort of humour and look down on. A bit of a goof. Lots of people have discussed the depiction of Clark and what that says about humanity, about how Superman supposedly views us. In a sense, Clark seems to me to be a test. An example of humanity at a possibly lower point and a way for Superman to see how people treat that sort of person. Clark keeps him humble in a way. Lex Luthor hates Superman because Superman is better than him; he scorns Clark because he's obviously inferior. The Clark we see in All-Star Superman, based upon the Silver Age depiction of the character rather than other modern interpretations, is the balancing act that makes Superman's position of above-and-yet-not work. Superman is above us, Clark Kent is below us (at least from our perspective), so it works out to a balance.

Grant Morrison used Clark Kent to balance out Superman's superiority, so, when Brian Azzarello took Clark away, what exactly was left? I keep coming back to Superman's fight with the elementals that acted on behalf of Mother Earth. They attacked him to get him to leave... exactly why isn't clear since they basically admit that humanity is just the latest infestation. But, his response is that he would kill everything, burn off the atmosphere, and then physically break up the planet is shocking. We assume it's a bluff, but, even as a bluff, that's harsher than Superman usually is. Without his connections to humanity, he drifts further away from those roots and more towards a Superbeing that is not held back by limitations of human morality or personal affection for humanity. Take away Clark and, slowly, Superman loses the man.

Azzarello's use of Father Leone illustrates this, him becoming Superman's new human connection with Lois and Clark gone. After seeing how far he was moving away from humanity, he begins to reconnect with it through this priest. It's interesting that the person he looks to as his new connection to humanity is a religious figure. It's not simply about reconnecting with humanity, it's about struggling to avoid thinking of himself as the supreme being, the god of Earth in a sense. A priest will be a reminder of faith in something bigger than Superman -- again, a humbling experience. For all that people didn't like Azzarello's interpretation of Superman, it's one that's remarkably in line with Morrison's. He simply presents the argument in another fashion. Instead of a straight forward presentation of 'this is Superman and this is what he's about,' he shows us a Superman that's removed from that and his struggle to regain what he lost. Azzarello stripped Superman of everything but his power and position and watched what would happen, how the character would go too far and try to retreat.

If Clark is his primary connection to humanity, a way to embody it, what is Lois? When Lois disappears in For Tomorrow, Clark goes as well. Lois is the woman he loves and, slowly, becomes his secondary connection to humanity in conjunction with his parents. She comes to embody the things in humanity that he wants. She's compassionate, strong, self-assured... she's almost a mirror of Superman. Is she Superman in the form of a human woman? Is that why Clark is so drawn to her...? Is it really a case of him loving himself? The classic idea of the love triangle is that Clark loves Lois, Lois loves Superman, and Superman loves Clark. Superman loves Clark because he's his window into humanity, Lois loves Superman because he's something more than humanity, and Clark loves Lois because... because why exactly?

I've never entirely understood the role of Lois Lane. Why her? For the ease of stories, she fills a specific role, because it's simpler to have Superman/Clark fixate on one person. Spider-Man has largely operated the same way, shifting from Gwen Stacey to Mary Jane Watson with a few minor possibilities in there. Superman has Lana Lang and Wonder Woman (along with some others) to fill those minor roles. But, ignoring the practicalities of one love interest, what is it about Lois specifically?

The idea that she's a human that's reached the potential Superman is an example of seems right somehow. She's not perfect and can be a little rude; still, there's a sense that she's rounded enough in all areas that she stands as the pinnacle of human achievement. Okay, that doesn't sound right. She hasn't reached the apex of human potential. She's not a mirror of Superman. So, what is she?

In All-Star Superman, she's the woman he loves. No explanation is needed. I can appreciate and understand that. Ask me why I love my girlfriend and I'll give you some basic reasons, some descriptions of her personality and behaviour, and none of it will cover it. Why does Superman/Clark love Lois? Because he does. It's that simple. At least in the mythic sense. In myths, no explanations are needed. Things simply are.

The role of Lois in Superman's world is something that Steven T. Seagle doesn't address in It's a Bird.... He explores different elements of Superman and what they mean, like the costume, like power, like justice... but not love or Lois. It's an odd omission when you think about it. But, it does implicitly argue for her expendability. Is Lois as essential as I made her out to be? She doesn't factor into Seagle's extensive exploration of the character. Hell, the past two years or so of Superman comics have had the two characters separated. First, Superman was on New Krypton and, then, he took his walk across America. In the upcoming relaunch, Lois is dating someone else and they were never married. She's still a love interest, an object of desire, but not much else. Is that all she is, even when she's been a central character? Does she even exist on her own or a way that isn't there to reflect Superman?

In The Death of Superman, he presence makes Superman's sacrifice that much more. She is something he sacrifices himself for, representing the whole of humanity. In Joe Casey's final year on Adventures of Superman, their marriage is something he struggles with a little. In one issue, the two celebrate Valentine's Day by finally coming together and staying in bed (no sex shown, just sleep). The run ends with an issue that's purposefully vague about their future. In many ways, Casey seems to be arguining for the disolution of their marriage, that Superman needs to be alone and un attached, while also presenting the argument that, like every married couple, the two simply have some problems. Either way, the relationship is not a completely solid one, not one that's unbreakable.

The marriage of Lois and Clark has been a problem to solve since it happened. Superman is often written into stories that demand a freedom that doesn't work entirely with a wife. How would she react to her husband disappearing off planet for a week? How does one live with that uncertainty? In contrast to the marriage of Peter and Mary Jane, the marriage of Lois and Clark seems to trap Superman, grounding him further than most would want him. They prefer a Superman that soars above such trivial things, rebuffing Lois at every turn, and allowing Clark to pine over her.

I'm not entirely sure what Lois's place is in Superman's life.

My favourite Superman is Joe Casey's Superman. His Superman speaks back to the idea of virtue I mentioned in my second Blogathon post. He could use his massive strength to hit things, to fight violence with violence, and he doesn't. He doesn't take the easy way out and simply punch things back. He uses his brain, he finds non-violent solutions, and he saves the world without throwing a single punch. My favourite Superman is a pacifist Superman.

In Adventures of Superman #616, Superman says the most revolutionary words ever put into his mouth: "No violence. I won't resort to that. I'm a pacifist, Dr. Welbourne." For me, that's when Superman changed and everyone else's version was somehow lacking. This was a smart, forward-thinking concept, a place to take the character that felt completely in-line with everything that guys like Grant Morrison talk about, but putting it into direct action. Of course Superman would be a pacifist! If he's here to set an example of how to be better, of how to rise above our petty basic urges, and move into the future as enlightened, advanced beings, why would he always hit stuff? We've known violence is primative for a long time.

Seagle offers a similar view in a section on 'power' that shows that Superman is just another in a long line of 'might makes right.' He enforces his concept of 'justice' and 'morality' through violence and his superior strength. It doesn't matter if he's fighting on our side, his methods reveal him as a primative creature. If anything, Azzarello's version of the character is a logical extension of that argument. And, for all of Morrison's arguments and depictions of Superman as a loving protector, All-Star Superman still ends with him beating Lex Luthor by punching him out.

I've long wondered why no one else has followed Casey's example. For an entire year (and a little bit before that even), he had Superman not throw a single punch. He managed to defeat any enemies that came his way and save the world/Metropolis/whatever. Hell, as Casey pointed out, he thought it was his explicit statement of Superman's pacifism that went too far; meaning, if he didn't say it, would anyone have noticed? If it's possible to have Superman be a pacifist without any serious disruptions, why doesn't everyone write him that way? Why not have the character live up to his potential and example?

The idea that Superman says he's a pacifist is going too far is key here. You can only change the character so much. Funnily enough, Casey's final year on Adventures of Superman reminded us how much the character has changed when he comes face to face with what is essentially the original Golden Age Superman. A strongman in tights that fights against corrupt authority, a reminder that the modern boom of heroes that do that is really another example of "Superman did it!" Superman has changed over the years and will change again. But, what makes pacifism too much of a change? Where is the line of how much you can alter the character? People said Azzarello went too far, or that Frank Miller simply mocks the character and that's not really Superman. I've heard some reactions to Casey's pacifist Superman that were the same. But, if it falls within the broad criteria that make up the character, how is it not Superman? If it's not Superman, who is it?

To me, Casey's pacifist Superman is more Superman than any version of the character since his original inception. It's a character more in sync with my interests and worldview. He still fights for truth and justice, he still wears the costume, he still has amazing powers -- all he does is use them differently. Add in some of his fighting corruption past and you've got the making of a superhero I'd read about every month.

But, that's not how others perceive the character. They want him to have big fights with larger than life adversaries. They want Lex Luthor to be a mad scientist instead of a businessman. They want Lois and Clark unmarried. They want, they want, they want...

Who is Superman? I'll leave that to Tim Callahan: "Superman is the essence of man, all the power anyone could wish, but still burdened by the responsibility to help others and the need to find someone to connect with. He IS easy to relate to, because he is a stylized version of all of us."

Superman is whoever you want him to be.

[canaryatlaw]

alright, I’m gonna write this and attempt to get some sleep, we’ll see how that goes. today was....less than great. I had called my doctor yesterday about calling in two prescriptions I needed filled, one of which being xanax, and legit the first thing I did (well, after getting an odd call from the court asking me to come on Zoom for a person we helped file because someone called her and told her to get on Zoom with the court??? and I had to be like uh I’m not actually her lawyer...awkward) was call the pharmacy and see what their status was, but they hadn’t received anything yet, so I called the doctor again and left a message, knowing my main pharmacy was closing at 4 (3 central time) and was just kind of anxious about it throughout the rest of the day. I ended up doing a client phone call because I needed to get on with a translator (we have access to a really great resource called the language line from the IL DV hotline and they have translators for everything, the one I needed today was for Amharic [never heard of before] and the person that picked up was like oh huh that’s a new one but they had someone on the line like a minute later) and it was somewhat time sensitive so I just wanted to get it over with, and it didn’t take too long. I’m super anxious about that case in general because the other side is filing a divorce case which means it gets moved from my court to the domestic relations court and I most likely can’t continue handling the case (there is one exception we’re working on, because I really don’t want to give up this case) so I have to try to convince our family law division pick it up, which is a bit of a task these days because they’re pretty much swamped with cases until god knows when, so we haven’t been asking them to take over too many cases, but this definitely one they should take, so I’m hoping I can make that happen. I got so pissed at the last court date because the other side asked for visitation and the allegations are BAD and I wanted to reach through my computer screen and throttle this guy like how fucking dare you. ugh. I have too many feelings for this shit. anyway. I made the candy cane chocolate cheesecake bars I usually make, without the assistance of the kitchenaid mixer we still can’t find, which didn’t end up being that difficult (just had to mix the cream cheese up a lot) and then when that was baking I wrapped all of my gifts and most of my brother’s gifts because he apparently can’t wrap them on his own and has me do it every year lol. but the cheesecake bars came out well so I was pleased with that. I was going to make crab puffs, but my younger brother’s girlfriend who’s allergic to shellfish was over so we decided against it, she would’ve been fine but my brother would get all mad and be all overprotective, and it really makes me worry about them sometimes...anyway. things got back to the medication issue and I got the message saying they were called in, so we went over to the other cvs that still had an open pharmacy but they hadn’t received it and I had to just wait until they closed at 6 but didn’t get anything, so we went back with nothing, there is another 24 hour cvs (their pharmacy isn’t 24 hour though) and after we had dinner I spent fucking forever trying to get on the phone with them because I was waiting for so long, and eventually got on the line, and I actually got to the person my doctor apparently called and spoke with and they got the other prescription but couldn’t fill the xanax because it was a controlled substance, and because of that it can’t be filled with a called-in prescription, it has to be electronically sent (which is like what the actual fuck?????) so there really wasn’t anything I could do at this point and like I just started crying because I was so upset and frustrated with everything. we watched the church service they were able to stream, at which point I was still like half crying, but afterwards I finished decorating the cheesecake bars and we did dessert which was nice. we did a few presents basically for my brothers’ girlfriends because they wouldn’t be here tomorrow (for at least part of the day for one, anyway) so that was nice, my younger brother’s girlfriend really liked the gift I got her so that was nice. I got a random book from Target and a starbucks gift card, so that’s cool. and yeah, after that I started making the dough for the scones we’re going to do tomorrow morning (as they’re called “Christmas morning scones”) which took a while to prep everything because they wanted freshly grated nutmeg and minced fresh rosemary, but I got that done and it’s in the fridge overnight, in the morning just have to bake it and be good to go. When I actually went upstairs I took 3 benadryls in a hope that it’ll help me actually sleep, and I am kinda tired but I mean I guess we’ll see. but yeah, I showered and now I’m here and I’m gonna try to go to bed now because it’s 1 am and that’s sufficiently late enough I should be able to sleep somewhat. but yeah. Goodnight peeps. Merry Christmas. 

[goddessofphilosophy]

Dearest Father, I have returned here in our homey abode in New York City. Oh I have missed you so terribly! Please don't tell me that I don't remember you more often since I got married. In fact he makes me want to write to you every single day. Oh Father, if only you know the situation here on Earth. He's right here beside me, soundly sleeping, every inch of perfection, and I just can't understand how my heart flutters when he smiles at me. He collected me from London Sunday Night last week to attend the Opening of the National 9/11 Memorial & Museum and he gave the most amazing speech ever! Because it involves me! I heard you whisper I'm such a narcissist. Well... newsflash, Father, I'm never the humble sheep to begin with. He said so himself I'm the lion. You know what, I have this long list of reasons why he must have fallen in love with me and now it's shorter than my shopping list. Can you imagine? I'm getting suspicious but then... sometimes we don't need words... and you don't have to know that part. We had so much fun meeting old friends and guests from other states. I personally loved catching up with my former clients. I told them it's getting a bit lonely now that my youngest son's already graduating in college (because I presume he might want to just stay in his house in Cambridge than stay with us here in New York City) and they asked me why I never had another baby. If only they know how traumatic my first and last pregnancy was. I have been here for quite a few days now. Mom & Amberleighn are too busy with Fashion Week. They didn't even bother supporting us. And they went to London this weekend for the Burberry Show. I bet they are still enjoying Milan Fashion Week. Annicka has been my companion lately. And before I forgot, I have a new secretary. She is Jane Sheppard. Why do I need a second one, you ask? My husband is apparently on panic mode in case I go back to Syria and get killed by the ongoing war. What he doesn't know is that I also visit Somalia and Nigeria (and other parts of Africa) where I met this peculiar girl we saved from child marriage. Oh Father, it was heartbreaking. Her father had to force her to marry an older man to get them out of poverty. It was terrible! Two oxen, five chickens and a goat in exchange for a little girl's life. And they are not even treated properly after getting married; they become slaves, Father. Why do they have to suffer that much? The United Nations General Assembly will start to tackle feminist agendas to end global problems for this week. That is one of reasons why I have been here longer than usual. I was invited by a colleague. And you won't believe the people I will meet there! In attendance are President Obama, Prime Minister Trudeau, Secretary-General Ban Ki-Boom, and other delegates (some are kings!) of foreign countries, according to my sources. I'm used to meeting world leaders, Father, that's correct but not all of them at once. I should have retired from work sooner if this is how I will live as a volunteer and representative of the World Economic Forum. How about Vladimir Putin? We're still friends. I still want free hotel accomodation in Moscow whenever I get the chance to relax. While I was watching the news though, there was another batch of refugees who drowned in the Mediterranean Sea. Again. Did you hear about it? Oh right there is no television in heaven. But is there like a grand council who decides when a group of people's mortal lives are taken away from them when all they wanted was to survive and escape the war? Is there a black hole in the Mediterranean Sea? Is the Atlantis located there? Come to think of it, their prayers have been answered. They are in a safer place now. Can you tell me what heaven looks like, Father? It had been such a delight to feel your divine intervention, Father. I'd be glad to update you as soon as I get my dysfunctional mind working again. You don't have to worry about me, Father. I have been fighting the same battle for years. If I have discovered a feasible solution to whatever has been bothering me, you would be the first to know but I bet you a million dollars he's going back to New Orleans anytime soon, without even telling me when he's coming back. See you sooner than later! I love you best, Father! Love, Hyacinth Athena Descartes

She retired to bed after writing the letter and gazed at the only person who makes her crazy. How on Earth did she allow this person to make her so vulnerable? Immediately after closing her eyes, she felt her body falling too fast, falling deeper each second. She wanted to open her eyes but she has lost control. After what it feels like two minutes of wandering in a pitch-black wilderness, the warm morning beams tickled her senses. She awoke, wanted to sleep some more but her mind tells her otherwise. Everyone was there, standing inside their huge, high-ceiling living room. They were all waiting for her. She recognized her daughters Hyamidalla Irish, Seraphiel Guinevere and Lucia Henriette with their beaus. Even his bachelor son was present. He doesn't like reunions. Keeva brought all her children with her too, with her husband standing right behind her. The Houghtons are in the far right of Andréas. Then she noticed a young girl who seems to be out of place in this picture perfect complete happy family. "Who is she?" she asked no one in particular. She was taking one step at a time down the staircase and nobody would want to make eye contact with her. "Seems like we have a visitor here, mind to introduce us, Mother?" "I don't think I'm the right person for that, darling." She was surprised to see her late brother among the crowd. He is not supposed to be here with them, he should be in heaven, she thought. But to make it all the more bizarre, he held her hands. He was saying something but she couldn't quite understand a word. She understood though that he was sorry for her. "Is she your adopted daughter, Adrian?" Adrian Yvés is her eldest son. They don't have the most admirable relationship as mother and son but Yvés has always been there for her mother. He was polite and modest with his life endeavors with the exception of its romantic facet. "No, Mother." "Is she your girlfriend, Andrei?" "No, Mother." She had to repeat herself, "Then who is she? Anybody?" Andréas felt obliged to answer her finally, "She's Michaela." "Oh why thank you, hon," she crossed her arms, waiting for more information. "She needs us. Her mother died last week. She's only 17. And she's my daughter..." Hyacinth wasn't prepared for any of it. She didn't want to hear more. It can't be true, she must be dreaming. For a moment there she felt like everybody knew but her. She rushed to the study room. There displayed an enormous wedding photo of a once upon a time the two happiest people in the whole world. Beside it is her portrait wearing her favorite purple dress. Another frame contained their family picture when Andrei was seven. Oh how time flies. This room has always been her sanctuary. The room was filled with good memories of her life-long pursuit for happiness. She met him in that very same room. And it was fitting for the room to witness how it will all end. He followed her, "You have to hear me out, please." She wanted to say, "You have until 4 PM to get rid of your dearest darling daughter. She is not welcome here. This property is under my name. This house is mine. You can't use my Mother to impose her ridiculous traditional values on me about family this time. She doesn't have any right to say who stays here or not. You can't come home to me one day with the evidence of how you cheated on me all these years. You are such a coward for hiding her. After seventeen years, you had the audacity to bring her here, of all places? She is not welcome in New York City either. I have adopted kids before and I don't mind adopting one more if only the kid will not remind me of the biggest mistake of my life. The last thing I want to read in the newspapers is my cheating, lying bastard of a husband having an illegitimate daughter. I will never accept your daughter with another woman. Take her anywhere, I couldn't care any less. Or may I suggest that you kill her yourself, like the savage beast that you naturally are." But she said nothing. She cried in silence. He knew her loving wife has the kindest, biggest heart in the world (not always, but still). She volunteers for the United Nations. She conducts lectures at The School of Economics for free. She donated her inheritance to the International Monetary Fund to finance projects in developing countries and stabilize the world's monetary supply. She has never turned down anyone who needed her help. She made sure all her children and grandchildren has a house to come home to. He wanted to remind her how she adopted five kids and gave them everything they needed and more. So what is the difference of one more? "You are better than this, love." She wiped her tears and turned her chair to face him, "No, I'm better off without you. Don't you dare call me love. I should have always known." He was defeated, "I know sorry will never be enough but let me make it up to you." She was as calm as the ocean after a storm, "You need to sign the divorce papers tomorrow morning, 10 AM, at the law firm. Expect Leah to walk you through all those pages. You are dismissed." "Not like this, please." "If you don't want to leave, I will." She stood up and walked out of the room. He caught her arm, "It was unintentional, an accident. They needed me desperately." Tears started to blur his vision. This is not the reaction he expected from her. He couldn't think straight. He didn't know what else to say. He knew she always wanted the whole truth. She was staring at him blankly. She was too hurt to speak. "Let me go," she huffed. "You're my everything, Icy. I have faith in us; in you, mostly." The words were echoing in her ears. She had to cover her ears from its gradual intensity each passing second. She felt more tears in her cheeks. Andi was being taken by the dark. The ground was shaking beneath their feet. The walls were enclosing them in. It was only a dream. She woke up, catching her breath. It was exhausting. She felt an unquenchable thirst for air and water and energy. She woke up a million dollars richer, too. The stocks market was kicking in again. Oh how she loves playing this expectations game. Later that week, Andréas found Annicka and Hyacinth chatting inside the study room. "Speaking of the devil, he's here." Hyacinth beamed at him, welcoming him back yet again, after four days of not seeing each other. He kissed her cheek, sat beside her on the sofa's arm and rested his arm on her shoulders. "What are you lovely girls talking about? Both of you seem so animated and enthusiastic tonight!" "My sister here is smitten and she wants to be a Canadian," Annicka giggled. "Why?" Hyacinth was delighted to share, "Oh I've met their Prime Minister this morning at the United Nations General Assembly. And I'm so in love with him, hon. He's the man of my dreams!" She winked at Annicka. "Okay?" "I'll leave you two, alright?" Annicka excused herself on cue. "I'm so honored to be sitting in the same table as him in our leadership luncheon. He's so good-looking and the coolest Prime Minister ever! Why don't we get a house in Canada, hon?" She held his hands. He didn't seem to appreciate the gesture. "But you have a house in Quebec, right?" "I gave that to Keeva's friend. The girl won't stop asking for it." "Stay with Lucia. She lives there, right?" "Oh please, I want to be neighbors with the Prime Minister and see him every single day. I can't wait to be best friends with Sophie! He mentioned she's just fabulous!" "I reckon this Sophie is his wife?" She nodded. "Why would you be friends with your crush's wife?" "Why wouldn't I? If you're going to be my ex-husband and you are having a new wife, I'd definitely be friends with her. It reduces the hard feelings." "Stop thinking about things that will never happen." She lingered in his eyes and felt sincerity in his words. Or is that what she wanted to see? Why was she testing the waters?

[shazyloren]

The Dragon Club: Chapter 6 - Arguments and Insults.

Summary:  Jon Snow is an online blogger who gets an interview with the sort after Daenerys Targaryen, the Editor of Valyrian, a multi-million dollar fashion magazine. He'd heard so much about the silver-haired and silver-tongued woman and the running of her business; he would have to be smart to get anything more than five minutes. Will he be safe walking into the Dragon's lair or will he get thrown to the Lions?

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12018519/chapters/27351066

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

Daenerys was shopping, it was the only thing that helped clear her head when things got too clouded. And after her twitter interaction the day previous she certainly needed to do that. Why was it such a big news piece? 'the plot thickens' 'new developments' 'false impressions', it was all too much for her and so here she was; shopping in Chanel for new bags. Jorah was with her; she wasn't allowed to go anywhere without her security because of the last few days. She decided on a red satchel with the infamous backwards C's logo and a baby blue clutch purse. She paid for her fancy wears and left the store with her bags.

She roamed up and down Fifth street; the designer shopping street to go to in King's Landing. She had her hair up in a ponytail (people tended not to recognise her like this) and she had large sunglasses on her face.The shopping district was lively and being here when there was lots of people meant she had less chance of being recognised. She went into YSL and bought new makeup; she went into Clinique and bought new skincare and she bought new clothes in levi's.

She was having a good day to herself (and Jorah) and they decided to stop for lunch. She had a craving for sushi so they stopped at the closest restaurant and both ate while discussing the company's plan to unveil a limited edition magazine where the proceeds go to the WWF found. It had been Missandei's idea and Daenerys had hopped on it like a moth to a flame. She'd already done the planning but it was still quiet secretive. So as they sat in their private booth in hush voices she explained all her ideas to him. They finished up lunch and left so Daenerys could finish shopping.

They walked for hours as Daenery's bags began to pile up and up. They were almost done; only a few shops left for her to visit. As she decided to stop by Versace; something in the corner of her eye caught her interest. he didn't realise what it was straight away: Brown curly hair, thin silver framed glasses and a solemn expression on his face. But when she did, she found a smile on her face.

"Hello Mr. Snow" Her voice purred as he turned to look at her. His eyes widened in shock at the woman holding several large shopping bags with her security stood Jorah stood menacingly behind her. Jorah had not been fond of the comments he'd made about Daenerys in his article, he' told her so. But she said she did give him the bait.

"Daenerys? What a pleasure" His mouth twitched as if he found something very amusing, she didn't. His face was weary; as if tired from something that had been bothering him. Daenerys could see it in his face. "Things have changed since the last interaction we had, I'm glad we can be civil once again"

"They have - my magazine sales have gone up 200%" Daenerys was the one smirking now. Tyrion's plan had worked. It's not even been 24 hours and the business had had a sharp increase after her tweet to him. She'd have to send Tyrion some fine wine to thank him for his advice. "Thank you, for the honesty in your piece. It has really helped me out"

"The honest of my piece also help my career; my site has had 12 million hits in the last 24 hours" Daenerys sensed that Jon was not the bragging kind. But in this intimate exchange they were having stood outside the Versace store, he wasn't going to be walked all over. She admired it in all honesty and she found herself smiling in approval. "such a shame your reputation had to suffer for it"

"I did think you were a tad unreasonable" Daenerys hit him with her words like a bat. Jon was almost taken aback he could see.

"Unreasonable?" He said in shock. "I asked you a very simple question, Miss. Targaryen and you threw me out of the interview"

"A reasonable response given the matter on which you were asking questions; It is not for you to know or anyone for that matter" She said as she began to walk off, her heels clicking as she did. "Have a nice day, Jon Snow"

"Walking off instead of answering my question?" He teased as she walked away. She stopped and turned on her heels, her winter coat flowing right near her ankles. She has a smirk on her face. Daenerys felt as if there was no one else on the street except the two of them. As if this was some form of West side Story musical in which they are two opposing sides who fight and no one else around them matters.

"You just don't know when to stop snooping, do you?" She said with a delicate smile that spoke a thousands of words. Jon's brow furrowed as if not impressed by her snark. "I almost respect that, almost. A man that won't quit, much like myself of course. I am a woman who wants to succeed until the bitter end. We're very similar you and I"

"If that's the case then you wouldn't have kicked me out" He said, having the upper hand on her this time. Her face faltered. Jorah was silently glaring at Jon the entire conversation. She could feel his eyes burning as they glared.

"I think it's time you stepped away, young sir" Jorah said threateningly. Jon turned his attention to the older man. What is he thinking? Daenerys though, What is that complicated brain of his thinking? Before she could have the answers she wanted Jon took a pace back.

"Thank you, for proving me right again" Jon smirked a final time. He then looked at her shopping bags. "I see you've bought from Chanel, if you could point me in the direction of the store, please?"

"Chanel? What do you want with Chanel?" She laughed this time; she hadn't meant to but she found it quite funny. He didn't strike her as a fashion forward mind or someone that wore designer clothes. She couldn't help but laugh at the question. "Finally buying something that's not from GAP?"

"Not for me; I like dressing like I could be homeless. Gives me more edge" He said adjusting his glasses. So a special lady in his life? This annoyed daenerys for some reason. Why was Jon Snow allowed someone to love and not Daenerys? He was just as volatile as she was; why does he get someone? "My sisters feeling a bit... down at the moment, so I thought I'd treat her to something nice"

"Your sister? Sansa?" She asked, the only family member she knew of his. So it hadn't been a girlfriend? He was buying something for his sister? What could've happened that she would need cheering up? So many questions came through her mind.

"Aye, the very one" He nodded.

"Is she okay?" She asked, genuine concern she felt in this moment.

"Like my sister would be okay with me telling you her problems" Jon snorted at her questions. "Just point me to where I need to go?"

"I'll come with you and help you pick something out" She said before her mouth could comprehend it's own movement. Jon looked at her as if she'd just started flying and casting spells in the middle of the street. A look of horror on his face. Daenerys didn't know if he actually hated her or not; she was trying to not be hot headed and she'd actually done an okay job at containing herself. "You don't strike me as someone who knows what they're actually looking for Jon Snow, forgive me for judging a book by it's cover but if you were, you'd already know where the Chanel shop is. You need someone to help; I'm offering my help"

"The part I don't understand is why?" Jon croaked as if a lump was stuck in his throat.

"Yeah; that's the part I'm struggling with too" Jorah spoke as he stood and watched this interaction.

"Jorah, my love. Please take our bags back to the valet. Jon and I will go to the Chanel shop, you can pull up in front and pick me up then" She said handing her bags over.

"I'm not leaving you unprotected" He said rather stupidly Daenerys thought. There was hardly anyone around on the street and Jon was going to be with her; he looked as if he could handle himself. She explained this too him and reluctantly he gave in and took her bags away. They walked in silence as Daenerys led the way, passersby began to notice the two of them and small whispers are heard.

"Do you get this everywhere?" He asked; half wondering what the headlines will be tomorrow, half rattled with fear.

"I've gotten used to it" She laughed. She changed the subject then. "I do respect your writing you know"

"Thank you, I guess"

"And I don't really blame you for what you wrote - I mean vindictive, that hurt a little. But I gave you the ammunition to go after me"

"I just write what I see" He shrugs. "You may not think you look like you could be vindictive; but it's what I saw. What are you so resentful about?"

"Many things, Mr. Snow" She said with a resounding sigh, Jon was really trying to get his clause into her but Daenerys was defiant. They were outside the shop now. "Mother and Father have made me resent many things; but you won't find out any of them. What makes you think I would open up to you?"

Jon opened the door for her and they both stepped through. He didn't say anything for a while; just looked around at the bags instead. Pinks, purples and blues on one side of the room, greens and yellows and reds on the other. White and black on the front stand. Purses and clutches and body bags and satchels and backpacks. Jon was looking round in confusion. Daenerys was on the other side of the room having a little browse again more for herself than actually helping Jon. A shop assistant comes up to him.

"Can I help you with anything at all?" Daenerys was listening intently.

"I'm looking for a present for my sister... um" Jon scratched the back of his head.

"What's the occasion?" She asked intrusively. Daenerys was surprised when Jon answered honestly.

"She's started dating a girl and well our parents aren't taking it well. I wanted to treat her to something nice"  Daenerys felt her mouth drop. Sansa had come out to her parents and Jon was the only one being supportive? Suddenly Daenerys felt for Jon. she didn't know where the emotion came from but it was present anyway. "Her favourite colour is green"

"Jon" Daenerys said as she pointed to a beautiful backpack, dark green with gold detailed embroidery. It was gorgeous but one of the most expensive things in here.

"That's it; that's the one" He pointed to that one and immediately it was being packed away. Daenerys saw Jorah enter the shop; the car parked just outside the front. She nodded to him. "Thank you for your help; she's going to love it"

"Jon... I heard what you said to the assistant, how is she doing?" Daenerys didn't know Sansa very well but she seemed sweet when they'd met for the cover.

"She's sleeping on my sofa" Jon sighed carrying the bag out of the store.

"That's terrible" She said solemnly.

"You don't strike me as someone who would be an ally to the LGBTQ community" He said ruffling his nose.

"Oh Mr. Snow, i used to experiment in my younger years. I am perfectly fine with people being themselves; I'm not stuffy as well as resentful" She said stiffer than she wanted it to be. "Well It's been a meeting I'll remember, Jon Snow. But I'm afraid it's not all shopping; I actually have work to do. Good luck with your sister; I do hope she likes the bag that I picked out for her"

"I'm sure she will" He said as Dany climbed into the passenger side of her Rolls Royce.

"Until next time" She winked and closed the door. She looked in the rear view mirror as he stood on the path and watched them drive off.

Oh Jon Snow what will our relationship be tomorrow.

[andmuzzlethat]

Angels Don't Fly || Chap. 1

Warning: Mentions of cheating and drug use, profanity, usual Crüe stuff

Word count: 1,894 (some chapters will be shorter than others)

Tag list: @slashscowboyboots @ouija-cat @ozzy-dumbass-of-darkness (please tell me if you wanna be added)

Author's note: This'll have to do with a lot of memories, which will be dated. I've also changed how I write. It's different (??) also there's no intro, I decided to just jump into the story !!

Third person ⤵

The year was 1986, the Crüe were on their sixth month of touring for Theatre of Pain, and because none of the boys cared about the consequences of their actions, except Mick, Doc had the bright idea of flying Estelle out to Europe for their final 3 months.

Nikki wasn't too fond of the idea of course, he threw a shit fit when Doc got all the boys together for the news. But it was too late now, for Estelle was back in L.A already packing for the flight that took off in less than 3 hours.

It was casual for Nikki to roll his eyes when he didn't get his way. He got up and walked out of Doc's room, who followed close behind him.

"I bought the ticket already, Sixx." Stated Doc, who managed to keep Nikki from running off somewhere in Europe. The raven headed bass player sighed heavily before running his fingers through his hair. A leg bouncing up and down while he sat on the chair in his room.

"I don't get why you didn't consult with us first, mainly me. She is my girlfriend or maybe I don't want her coming," (that was the first 😉 lol sorry (totally not)) Nikki fussed. He was tired of Doc treating them like kids, although they did act the part. "Plus, she doesn't like when I do coke and drink, that's one reason I didn't bring her."

Doc crossed his arms and shook his head in a disappointing manner. He knew too well that Nikki loved Estelle.

Under all the drugs and hidden emotions was a boy who just wanted to feel wanted and loved, he's got that now and some, what more could he want?

"What?"

"She'll be here by tomorrow afternoon. You got about a week and a half before tour starts up again, so I suggest you spend time with her wisely, God knows she'll wanna leave once you don't get a fix." Doc says and Nikki scoffs.

"Fuck off."

···

The following day, Nikki woke up a little too early for his liking. He laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling while he had an arm rested under his head. Thoughts of Estelle leaving him running endlessly around his mind. He knew for a fact, that the girl fucking loved him and do anything in her power to keep him.

After aimlessly looking around the hotel room then to the digital clock on the bedside drawer, which read 8:37 AM, he began to move. Getting out of bed became a bother when you're like a vampire.

He first started to get clothes out of his suitcase. In it consists of multiple leather pants, some shirts that became cutoffs and others that are buttonups and probably just regular 'ol shirts, also lots of his undergarments that Estelle had packed for him back home.

A smile formed on his lips, only lasting a brief amount of seconds before his mind slipped back into the thought of her leaving, but this time for a different reason. It was what he had done just about a year ago.

Nikki ⤵

January 26, 1984:

The stress of having to write more and more music for a new album was, in the least, tiring. We haven't even come up with a fucking album title, due to the incident that happened a little over a month ago.

While Vince was away, some things changed with the band, me in particular. When Estelle was with her family for Christmas, I had my dealer over for a visit. He didn't have the drug I wanted but he did have drugs. To me, it seemed to be coke, something I wanted and had to wait for. He explained to me what it was. Heroin.

He let me sample some, since I've never tried it but obviously know what it is. I watched as he got it ready. After, he handed me a bandana, told to me tie it above my bicep. I did, held it tight as he felt for a vein then stuck the needle into it.

Let's just say it felt a whole lot better than sex. I'm not sure what happened, all I know is Tommy came by and found me in the closet. I was close to naked, passed out cold, and looked like I wasn't breathing. I remember him shaking me and nearly slapping me as I opened my eyes.

He was coming by to give me some stuff he'd bought for me but ended up giving me a fucking lecture, only to end it with, "do you got anymore?" I'm not one to turn anyone out, but this is Tommy, my Terror Twin, he had to try this.

Since then, it's been my drug of choice. I told him not to tell Estelle or anyone else, also threatened to kick him out of the band if he did. He shook on it, so I doubt he would.

Today was day five of not having any sex with Estelle. It was shark week for her, so that explained a lot, like the fight we had two nights ago. One of the worst we've had in a long time. Things between us have been going so fucking fine, but she decided to pick a fight, well, I did engage in it too.

We slept in different areas of her apartment, her in the bedroom and myself in the living room, on the couch she had. I was too big for it. Purely uncomfortable.

We weren't civil, although it sounded childish for us both, that's just how we punished each other. Trust me, the make-up sex was fucking amazing, which is why I participate in our arguments. The only time we saw each other was in the morning, I get back late at night, so I don't get to see her before I go to sleep, that is if my body and mind want to.

While I had nowhere specific to go, I ended up in the studio. Nobody was here, so I hung out by myself, which is what lead me to stressing about the album, and all of the drastic shit that's happened between Estelle and I.

I scanned the room for a phone, stopping when I found it. In a corner, it sat on a mini table, along with some magazines. Quickly, I got up and the number of my dealer immediately popped into my mind. Sitting down on the chair next to the table, I typed the digits out.

A few rings and he answered. "Hello?" A female's voice was heard. My eyebrows furrowed.

"Yo, where's Kev?"

"Not here at the moment, why? Do you need?" She asked bluntly, it surprised me. The chick gave me Estelle vibes, reminded me so much of her although she was only talking to me through the phone.

"Y-yeah. Meet me at the address he has written down, I'll be there."

···

And that's how I fucked up. Sleeping with someone else in a bed Estelle owned, the the fucking apartment she owned and worked hard for.

I waited for her to come back, it was nearly 10 o'clock at night when she had. The look on her face was evident she had a bad day. Her eyes became glossy when she stared at me. I couldn't help but cave in and engulf her in my arms. Her's snaked around my neck and held onto me tight.

"What's wrong, Sweets?" Before I knew it, she was a crying mess. Her sobbing was the only thing heard in the apartment.

I slowly moved us to the couch, sitting her down first then myself. She leaned onto my shoulder, tears still running down her face and dripping on my shirt.

We sat like that for at least an hour, in the time being I threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. I prayed to whatever God there was that she doesn't find out what I did hours prior to this. She needed me right now and that's what she was getting.

"I'm sorry, Nikki, for snapping like that the other day, some jealous bitches told me an obvious lie a week before that." She explained, which I didn't want but was relieved to hear.

"No, Esty, I don't blame you, with how many women there are at times. I probably would've believed the same thing if I was told you were cheating, I mean come on, you're much more than I am. You could do better than me. Estelle, you're beautiful and could probably pull a fucking female your way."

It wasn't necessarily an apology or an acceptance to her's, but it seemed to be something, she smiled a fucking smile that could have me in tears. She shook her head and then stared up at me. Her chocolatey eyes gazed deeply into mine.

Before either of us knew it, her lip's were pressed roughly against mine. Her small hands made their way into my hair, gripping it how I liked, she fucking knew what she doing now and getting herself into. She needed it more than me.

···

Third person ⤵

That night the couple made up in a way they knew how, through passionate affection and about 4 or 5 orgasms throughout the night. It took his mind off the mistake he made that day, which he still managed to keep a secret for so long.

Nikki sighed before pulling out a plain black shirt, leathers, and socks, deciding to go without briefs for the day. He's done it plenty of times before, what's stopping him now?

Later, after his shower and shoot up time, Doc knocked on his door. He waited patiently for Nikki to open the door; a few seconds later it came flying open.

"You're ready, surprisingly. We gotta go, her plane will be landing soon and it's almost rush hour here. Come on." He explained without missing a beat then began walking towards the elevators.

The raven haired bassist grabbed his sunglasses and a water bottle. He made his way out.

···

Estelle's eyes scanned the sea of people for Doc and Nikki, since the manager told her it was only going to be the two. When her sight landed on them, an immediate smile formed on her lips. She quickly made her way towards the odd pair.

"Sixx!"

"Hey, baby!" Nikki swore he saw a sparkle in her eyes as she saw him. It was a sight to fucking see, especially when the two haven't seen each other since July.

She squealed when he lifted her up by her bottom. She hadn't felt those hands in a long time and had surely missed them, him. Their lips connected like magnets and the couple were in a full on heated make out session on the airport.

Doc cleared his throat when people began looking and giving them disgusted looks. Estelle and Nikki parted, a smile on the brunette's face. He put her back on the floor. She looked at Doc and engulfed him in a hug, which surpised both Nikki and himself.

"Sorry, just haven't seen you guys in forever!" Estelle groaned, letting go of the man.

"It's fine. You hungry? I'm sure if this giant is then you must be." The girl laughed lightly and nodded.

···

my first ever chapter to a fic i have a feeling will last some time !!

[missrobinswritings]

Dear C.M.,

It’s midnight for the both of us. You’re probably sleeping or drinking or God knows what right now. Well, I can assure you I’m doing nothing entertaining or worthwhile. I’m sitting on my laptop, 12:03AM, no glasses, no shirt, listening to the same stupid song on repeat to make myself remember stuff I really don’t want to remember. I’m not sure why I do things like this to myself.

I work at noon tomorrow. That’s 12 hours away. Less than, even. And instead of getting a good night’s sleep, I’m writing about you because I am so so tired of you. Irony is a strange thing.

You probably wouldn’t even know why I chose the song I did, and if I explained it you’d probably say “that could be any song.” But I’m going to do it anyway, because it’s driving me crazy. So listen, just like you always did.

It’s the song you played when you started talking to me for the first time after that month hiatus. You remember, don’t you? We called, just the two of us. And, as always, when shit got quiet you started playing your knock off guitar hero with your keyboard in your arms like an actual guitar. What a sight that was. Every song you played, even before this time, always played for me. We never found out why, although I’m starting to think you played the music so loud it just echoed into your mic. It was a more rock-y version of a popular song that the both of us knew. I can remember every note on the guitar solos that you played. I remember crying like the baby I am because, as I sat there totally silent, I knew that nothing would be the same. You would never be the same, we would never be together, and you would never be able to leave your girlfriend because of how crazy she was. After that song, you hung up and you apologized for everything. I cried for so long that night, and that was the last time I cried and it was months ago. It’s a shame that whatever you say never lasts long.

This past week has been hard. Hell, the past month or two without you has been hard. My best friend got into a car accident (she was fine, but it was emotionally tolling), my great grandma passed away, I already got my heart partially broken twice (again). And, for some reason, this past week has been exclusively about you. Every day has gotten harder. I could have sworn I saw you call me on Wednesday. I tore apart my room and I found a little stuffed animal I bought when I visited your state. I showed it to you and your response was, “I can’t believe you still like stuffed animals. That’s so cute. You’re so cute.” I can’t forget anything and it is tearing me apart.

It only makes matters worse that I know you’re not even happy. I’d probably be happier and a little more accepting if you were happier without me, except I know you’re not. I know you’re manipulated by your girlfriend, and I know you know that you’re manipulated by your girlfriend. I know that you hate your home life. I know that you hate school and you hate the way you are and I know you hate everything and I wish I could still help you. But you pushed me aside for the second time and my hands are tied until you come back. If you come back.

If you come back.

January 27th, 2019 @ 12:30AM

Excerpt from “Broken Love Letters” ~ Miss Robin

Tagged: @eternalspandex-writing, @inspirewriter, @carumens

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