#quite happy w this one even if it was less of an ordeal than most of my drawings

[skitskatdacat63]

His bullfighting days aren't over quite yet.

+

[glitchbirds]

🌻<3

<3 (new ask game send me a 🌻 and ill just tell you whatever the fuck i want)

a couple weeks ago i watched the birdcage (1996) and la cage aux folles (1978) in the same night- not quite back to back (i watched mikey and nicky in between :) ) but still definitely less than 12 hours apart. i took notes on both and esp took notes on the differences between the two when watching la cage, and the most notable thing to me is how similar they really were- obviously, birdcage is a remake to la cage, i knew they would be close but they were all but identical in their dialogue at points (as far as i could tell, at least- the english translations for la cage' french dialogue would often be word-for-word the same as the english dialogue in birdcage, though i suppose there is a chance of meddling after the fact leading to different translations...?). it was a bit disappointing- not just because it meant i basically watched the same film twice in one night, but because i had hoped to find that birdcage had taken more creative liberties and risks. it really is kind of sad to watch a remake/adaptation BEFORE the thing its based on, only to realize that the one you saw first wasnt quite as original or clever as you thought. alas! but- they are not identical films. birdcage i wound up enjoying much more; it delivered the same/similar material in a funnier and more engaging way, and it felt like it had significantly more heart to it, esp w/ the relationship between the two main characters. i DO wish that the remake had kept in the scene of a crowd of delighted drag queens barging into their home to wish them a happy 20th anniversary, basically obliterating any shot they might have of keeping up the charade in front of the conservative family; and the fact that this whole ordeal takes place on their 20th anniversary at all! i do think my favorite added detail to birdcage is the fact that the family is jewish- there's no hint of this in la cage, and it's not dwelled upon TOO thoroughly in birdcage, but it does add a whole other dimension to the dinner. not only does val force his fathers to erase their identities as gay men to keep up appearances in front of the conservatives (whose opinions matter more to him than either of his dads), he forces them to hide their jewish heritage, as well. a massive crucifix hangs on the wall, and they are no longer the goldmans, but the "colemans". the intersection of gay jewish identity isnt explored too thoroughly, but the fact that both of these things are deemed unacceptable and NEED to be hidden away from the republican politician and his family, is telling, to say the least. it also makes the blanket acceptance at the end even more jarring..

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Femslash February Day 9

Prompt: Shame Fandom: Avatar Pair: Azula/Suki Summary: Azula gets braces which causes her another struggle with self-image.

“Come on just one tiny little smile?” Suki requests.

Azula’s frown only deepens and she shakes her head. At any rate, her mouth is too sore for a smile.

“Not even a really quick one, like a two second flash?”

“No.” Azula mumbles.

“You’re cranky today.”

She imagines that Suki would be at least a little cranky too if she had her mouth poked and prodded at all morning. She would be even more cranky if she came out of the ordeal looking at least a percentage or so less attractive. She has decided that she won’t be smiling until the braces come off and no amount of coaxing would be changing that.

“Come on, you promised.”

“I did not.”

“You did so.” Suki insists. “You said that if I gave you the rest of my cinnamon sweet rolls that you would show me your braces.”

Azula clears her throat. “Yes, Suki. There is a term for what I did.”

“And what’s that.”

“Lied.”

“Seriously.” Suki crinkles her nose. She elbows Azula in the ribcage, “come on, I want to see them.”

“For what?” She grumbles. Likely so she can decide whether or not it would be worth it to kiss her ever again. Azula wagers that she will decide that it is not worth the risk of possibly cutting her lips on metal bits. Azula has already cut her own tongue on them. It has been only an hour and they have already made her suffer at least a day’s worth of pain.

“You can’t just never smile again.”

“Mai hasn’t smiled once since I’ve met her, it is very possible to never smile again.” Azula assures her. “And this abysmal school will make it very easy to stick to it.”

Suki laughs. “Well, what if, one day, we’re at tennis practice and Katara accidentally hits herself in the face with the racket again?”

“Then she’ll have to get more creative, because it’s only funny the first time.” Azula replies.

“Come on, Azula, I’m sure that they’re cute. TyLee would probably like them.”

“TyLee thinks that everything is cute and you are obligated to say so.”

“Obligated?”

“Because you are my girlfriend. Yue said that, that is one of the rules of a relationship…”

Suki rolls her eyes. “Yue lives in a daydream world and thinks that a relationship has to be all fluffy. That’s why she has a crush on Chan.”

Azula leans up against her locker and looks down the hall. The last buses are pulling out of the parking lot. “We should head to the courts…”

“We should. And we will. After you show me your braces.”

“Suki, they look ridiculous.”

“Wonderful!” She gives a mischievous grin. “They match well with the rest of your face, you like matching stuff.”

Her face flushes and she very nearly swats Suki with her assigned reading novel. Instead she tucks it into her backpack and folds her arms across her chest. She is already something of an awkward loner, the last thing she had needed was this. A mouthful of metal is probably just enough to tip the scales towards the lower end of the social spectrum.

And if she takes a tennis ball to the face it will hurt doubly so when the metal scrapes her lips. If she bites down the wrong way… She won’t even be able to enjoy her mochi. There is a whole list of things that she can’t have anymore. And the likelihood of food getting stuck in them… She bunches her nose in disgust.

She hasn’t even seen Zuzu yet. He is probably itching to make fun of her for her predicament, with or without having seen the braces. Spirits know that he has years of teasing and jesting to get back at her for.

“It’s shameful.”

Suki rolls her eyes. “Drama club is that way.” She thumbs down the hall.

Azula narrows her eyes. “I didn’t want to get them…” but she didn’t want misaligned teeth either… She wishes that she hadn’t been born with such an unfortunate dental situation.

.oOo.

Azula is stubbornly true to her word. Suki hasn’t seen her smile once since getting her braces. Pictures are almost entirely out of the question unless they let her do one of those little close-mouthed half smiles.

All of her attempts to make Azula smile naturally just miss the mark. Or maybe they haven’t missed; she thinks that Azula has spent too much time training herself to laugh in such a refined way as to not show her teeth.

Suki sighs, she is quite certain that she is going to have to find a quiet spot in the bleachers and sit her down for a little talk. The serious, heavy sort that she is no good at. The sort that involves bringing up her girlfriend’s stressfully high standards. She supposes that they have been long overdue for another one of those, she hasn’t been this dissatisfied with herself since leaving her father’s house to live with her mother. It would seem like old habits are never truly shed.

She feels a pair of arms wrap around her torso and lips brush against her ear. “Good morning, Azula.”

“It’s afternoon currently.” Azula corrects. “Here.” She holds out a small box. It smells sugary and sweet and rests warmly in her grasp.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

She tugs on the little ribbon and opens the box to see a lightly iced cinnamon bun with an arrangement of red sprinkles.

“What’s this for?”

Azula shrugs. “Since I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain.”

Suki is both touched and saddened. She really hated her braces enough to spend time baking a new cinnamon roll to get out of her deal. “Thanks, Azula.” She bites into the treat. It is absolutely sublime, pleasantly warm and baked to a perfect golden brown. “This tastes amazing.” She smiles. “Did you make it yourself.”

Azula nods. “I had Katara help. But I did most of the work.”

“Well it’s really good. I’ll save the rest for after practice.”

Azula nods again. She is making it terribly difficult to request a difficult talk. For a while she is quiet, drumming her fingers against the lunchroom table. Maybe Suki ought to initiate the conversation now and get it over with.

Suki touches Azula’s cheek, rubbing it tenderly the way the girl likes. She gives her a soft little kiss and pulls back. “I don’t think that it’s shameful.” She starts. “You have braces. There are so many people who need them.”

“Yes, and it’s a shame that I am one of them.” She insists.

“You don’t always have to be perfect.” Suki says for what has to be the thousandth time. “Especially around me. You can just be you.”

“I am fine being me. I would just rather look like me but without braces.”

“And last year you would have just rather looked like you but with longer hair. And the year before that you would have just rather looked like you but with bigger boobs.”

Azula flushes again but Suki pushes on. “There’s always something, Azula.You always want to change something, and you don’t have to…”

“Yes, well this time I was fine with how I looked before…”

Suki quirks a brow. “Azula, you got the braces because you weren’t satisfied before. And you should be because…” she gestures to all of Azula. “Look at you.”

“I would rather look at you.”

“Cute, Azula. Super cheesy, totally a diversion, but cute.”

“I hope that you’re not expecting me to smile now.”

Suki shakes her head. “Not right now, no. But when someone makes you laugh, when you’re happy. When you win tonight’s game.”

.oOo.

She isn’t sure why this is so difficult.The change is so minor and so temporary. And yet she is feeling just as out of sorts and uncomfortable as she had when she’d cut her own hair. She still hasn’t smiled and she is almost sure that it has nothing to do with the people around her. She is decently worried about what they will have to say about her. But she is more worried about what she will say to herself if she looks in the mirror or sees her tainted smile in a photo.

She is tired of feeling this way. She wishes that she could just stop. She feels Suki’s hand cup over hers.

She is lucky that she has the girl, she would surely spiral if she didn’t. With her free hand, she touches her fingers to her lips. She certainly isn’t in the smiling mood. Not until Suki kisses her again, several times, once on the forehead, once on the lips, and once on the nose. She has always been fond of those little nose kisses. Suki knows this and she gives her a second.

She clutches Suki’s hand in her own. The girl had been right; there always is something that she wants to fix about herself. Even if it doesn’t need fixing. Most of the time she doesn’t even fix it, the desire simply passes. Such was the case when she wished that she were taller. And in that instance, she had actually grown quite fond of her small self. It makes her agile and speedy, a real menace on the tennis court. She had eventually grown fond of her shorter hair too, though she much prefers it long. She supposes that just because something isn’t preferable, doesn’t mean that it is horrible or ugly. Her therapist has assured her has much time and time again. She just has to get around to remembering it.

“I guess that you can look at them.” She mutters. She supposes that the only way to get reassurance would be to let at least one person see.

.oOo.

Her smile is more forced than any smile Suki has ever seen, but it is a smile no less. She had expected Azula to pick out the clear brackets. Instead she had chosen alternating golds and blues. For someone who is trying to avoid drawing attention, she has sure picked eye catching colors.

Somehow, Suki can’t picture it any other way. “They match your eyes.”

Azula blinks.

“They suit the rest of your face.” She clarifies. “Honestly, I think that they make you look smarter.”

“They do?”

Suki nods. “You should get Katara to let you try on her glasses! They’re blue so they would look nice too.”

Azula seems to fidget with the buttons on her uniform. “Good luck convincing her to let me, she hasn’t parted with those glasses since she got them.”

“Have you looked at yourself yet?”

Azula shakes her head.

“One step at a time, right?”

“Yes, one step at a time.”

“How about this, I get Katara to let you borrow her glasses, and you look at yourself in the mirror?”

.oOo.

Standing before the mirror, Azula wishes that she hadn’t made the deal. Katara promises that the glasses suit her well. And Suki swears that she looks amazing and sophisticated. When she finally brings herself to open her eyes, everything is a blur.

“Well, what do you think?”

“I think that Katara and I don’t have the same prescription.” She takes them off and rubs her eyes.

“We can’t all have 20-20.” Katara rolls her eyes as she puts her glasses back on.

“I figured you’d say that.” Suki holds out her phone.

Azula swallows and takes the device. Her face, as it appears on the screen isn’t exactly unflattering. She supposes that Suki is right, the glasses and braces do add some degree of sophistication. Perhaps if she holds her head a little higher and makes her expression a little bolder she can do herself favors. “I...I don’t hate it.” She stuffs her hands into her pockets.

“That’s a start.” Katara smiles warmly.

“And by the time you finish, you’re going to miss them.”

Azula crinkles her nose. “I will not miss not being able to eat mochi. I certainly won’t miss these poking wires…”

Suki pulls her into a hug and ruffles her hair. “That’s fair. But at least you’ll be more comfortable by the end of it.”

“Define comfortable. There’s nothing comfortable about a mild but constant throbbing.”

.oOo.

Suki rolls her eyes. At least her complaints have shifted from a poor self image to the physical discomforts. She just hopes that Azula knows that she is perfect just as she is. That there is no shame in a perfect collection of imperfections.

She slings her arm over Azula’s shoulders and kisses her cheek. “Let’s get to practice.”

[queenismyprimejive]

This storm too shall pass – 80s Roger Taylor x Fem! Reader – Part 2

Synopsis: After a huge fight with Roger, reader contemplates whether her relationship with Roger has any success at all. For her sake it has to, because the secret she’s been keeping from him will surely change the future for both of them. Luckily, Freddie is there to bring some calm after the storm.

W/C:2,076

Perspective: You-perspective, reader-insert, use of Y/N. I plan on putting this in each of my future fics, just because I tend to switch between the two perspectives in writing.

Warnings: Nothing really serious. Some swearwords mentions of implied pregnancy. Overall fluff, drama, angst, the usual.

A/N: None.

Tagging:

@joeneslee​

@hodgepodge-of-rog​

@ceres27​

@queen-paladin​

@march-of-all-queens

@jennyggggrrr​

@rhapsodyrecs

“Pregnant….. are you sure?”, Freddie asked slowly as he watched me pacing around his living room, trying to make sense of the situation.

You looked at Freddie in exasperation. “No Fred I’m not at all sure, why else would I say I think I’m pregnant?”, I fired back, not caring at all how frustrated I sounded.

“So that is why you didn’t want Roger smoking in the house”, Freddie concluded, not at all fazed by my small outburst.

You stopped pacing around and focussed your attention on Freddie, letting out small breaths of air in an attempt to calm yourself down. You nodded slowly as you plopped back onto the couch.

“For how long have you felt like this?”

You stayed quiet for a few minutes because you weren't sure if you had to tell Fred everything in detail.

“You know you can tell me anything…. right love”, Freddie said, as if he sensed my hesitation to open up to him, “I’m not grossed out by the female body”.

You raised an eyebrow at him and promptly burst out laughing.

“I’m not grossed out by pregnant women”, Freddie clarified as he laughed along with me. “Come on, shoot”.

“Well, I guess I felt it a couple of weeks ago. My period comes fairly regularly, it changes by one or two days….. but when it stayed off for almost two weeks I was beginning to worry. Plus, everything feels different Fred, more sensitive I mean, and I feel queasy in the morning…. All the signs are there Fred”, you continued on.

All the while Fred remained silent, intently listening to your story.

“Fred…. I’m scared”, you said with watery eyes.

“Oh darling”, Freddie said sympathetically as he enveloped you in a tight hug, “everything is gonna be fine you’ll see. Why didn’t you tell Roger why you were struggling with this?”

“Because….”, you sniffled, “If I told him I suspected I was pregnant, and I turned out not be, he’d be disappointed in me, and if I turned out to be pregnant and he didn’t want the child I’d lose him anyways”.

“Don’t think so little of yourself Y/N”, Freddie tutted, “the man worships the ground you walk on, better yet, if the opportunity would arise, he’d probably commit murder for you, and knowing Roger, he’d actually be capable of doing so”.

You chuckled as you wiped a few stray tears away with your sleeve, “yeah that’s probably true”.

“And”, Freddie continued, “he’d want nothing more than to start a family, he told me so himself”.

“Really?”, you were a little surprise you heard him say that, since Roger never explicitly told you so himself.

Freddie nodded in confirmation, “Really love, and what if you really turned out to be pregnant Y/N, how would you feel about that?”

You lovingly placed a hand on your still flat belly, “I’d want nothing more than to start a family with Roger, I just…. I just don’t know what to do”.

“That’s what I’m here for darling, don’t you worry about a think, so here what’s we’ll do”.

You breathed a sigh of relief; Freddie always had a way with words, words that could always calm you down.

“First, I’ll have someone pick up some pregnancy tests for you, just to be sure. Then in the morning we’ll make an appointment with your doctor, and in the meantime I’ll call the guys to see if they can locate that stubborn, hot-headed boyfriend of yours, how does that sound?”

“That sounds good Fred, thank you….. for everything”

He dismissed your words of gratitude with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense darling, Roger is my friend and so are you, it’s the very least I could do”.

You felt a fresh wave of tears coming up, but this time they were tears of gratitude.

“Be right back darling”.

“Freddie?”, you asked softly as he was halfway through the door.

“Yes darling?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

Of course, you can Y/N, you can stay here any time”.

As Freddie left the room you gazed down at your belly and smiled softly to yourself. For the first time this whole ordeal started, you finally felt everything going in the right direction.

Less than an hour later you found yourself sitting on the couch again with Freddie, with three different pregnancy tests in front the two of you on the coffee table. You were relatively calm at first but now, in anticipation of the result, you couldn’t keep your nervous jitters to yourself anymore. You glanced sideways at Freddie and caught his gaze filled with barely concealed amusement.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I think it is time to look darling”.

You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in, but you couldn’t get yourself to look at the tests in front of you, because if you did, it would all become real and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

“You look for me Fred, I can’t…. I can’t look, you do it”.

All right darling, want me to tell you if they’re positive or not?”

“You can tell me anything as long as I don’t have to look at them”.

You turned your head away and waited anxiously until Fred had taken a look at the test.

When he didn’t immediately say anything, you were beginning to worry if there was something wrong, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Well darling”, Freddie spoke up, “I believe congratulations are in order.”

“What?”, you exclaimed as you looked up from your lap at Fred, who at this point looked like he couldn’t contain himself.

Well, look for yourself darling”, he grinned and placed the three tests in the palm of your hand. You tried to summon up all the courage before looking at the tests you were holding firmly in your hand. And indeed, Fred was right, on all three tests you could see two noticeably clear lines.

“I’m pregnant”, you whispered softly, mostly to yourself. The reality of it all had yet to sink in. Your lip was wobbling a little and different emotions were swirling through your mind, however, happiness prevailed.

“I’m pregnant Fred”, you said again, smiling, but this time you couldn't hold back the tears of joy. You looked up at him and he was also grinning widely, but you saw he too was sporting a few tears in the corners of his eyes.

“Congratulations darling, I am so happy for you”, he exclaimed and once again he enveloped you in a tight hug.

Thanks Fred”, you whispered into his chest as you hugged him back.

Moments later he pulled away, saw your tears, and wiped them away with his thumb. “But are you happy darling?”.

You nodded. “Yes Fred, I’m happy, it just needs to sink in….. that’s all”.

“So, do you still want to go to the doctor’s office tomorrow? I mean it’s quite positive already but….”

“Yeah I still gonna go to get a check-up, just to be absolutely sure, you know?’

“Of course, darling, I’ll go with you”, he said as he softly squeezed your hand.

Distantly, you heard a phone ring, but you payed no attention to it. Freddie however jumped up at the sound. “That might be Brian or John calling about Roger’s whereabouts. I have to take this call, be right back”.

As Freddie left the room once more you slowly sagged back into the couch. The argument you had with Roger earlier this evening had been forgotten, and the sadness over that argument had made place for something else, nerves and excitement from how you were going to tell Roger about your pregnancy, and whether he’d accept it.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Freddie re-entering the room. He looked slightly out of breath.  “Well…. that was Brian”, he started, “thankfully Roger is fairly predictable, so they found him in one of his to-go-to clubs,. He was drunk and high on something else than adrenaline so they’ve taken him home so he cannot do anything stupid in the meantime, and they’ll try and sober him up as quickly as possible.”

‘Well that’s something at least….”, you started.

“No worries love”, Freddie said, “Brian and John have more than enough experience in sobering Roger up, you just get some rest and we’ll talk about it all tomorrow, you’ll see, it will all turn out fine”.

The next morning you found yourself in the examination room of the doctor’s office, anxiously awaiting your results. You had convinced Freddie not to come into the doctor’s office with you, figuring he would draw a little too much attention to himself, so instead he remained in the car with Jim until you were ready to go home, back to Roger.

The doctor re-entering the room pulled you away from your musings.

“Well congratulations miss Y/N L/N, you most certainly are pregnant I’d say about 7 or 8 weeks right now, do you wish to see the ultrasound?”

You nodded vigorously and he gave you the black and white picture and showed you where exactly too look; you could barely contain your happiness at this point.

“So, is everything ok doc?”, you asked.

“Well there isn’t much to see at this point, but everything is looking good so far. I do suggest you to be careful as there still is a higher rate of miscarriage in the early stages of pregnancy. I suggest another check-up in about a month but for now you are good to go”.

 Clutching your purse which held the ultrasound pictures, you felt your nerves spike up as Jim turned into your street and parked the car a little further down the street from Roger’s and yours place.

Freddie turned around in his seat and grasped your hand in his.

“Are you going to be ok Y/N? If you need anything don’t hesitate to call all right?”

“I won’t Fred thank you, and thank you too Jim, I know I haven’t exactly been kind you these days”.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N”, he said, “I’m only glad I could be of help”.

 As you watched them drive away you made the way towards your front door. You took one final breath of air before you turned the key in the lock.

When you first opened the door you heard nothing, but then you heard the shuffling of footsteps coming from the living room, and a while later the figure of a man you knew very well appeared in the doorway.

His hare was still wet from the shower, so he looked relatively freshened up, however, his bloodshot blue eyes and the bags beneath them betrayed what he had gotten up to last night.

“Y/N”, he breathed out; he looked positively relieved.

You smiled softly at him. “Hey Rog”.

You weren’t sure what to say next, but when you looked up at Roger and caught him looking away, he didn’t know what to say either.

“Listen Y/N, love, I’m sorry about last night I….”

“Don’t worry Rog, you’re forgiven, but we do need to talk”.

When you noticed the fear in his eyes you thought he assumed you were breaking up with him so in order to erase that thought from his mind you closed the distance between the two of you and carefully grabbed his hand in yours, and for a moment you revelled in how good it felt to be close to him again.

“I’m not breaking up with you Rog, don’t worry, but I do have something important to tell you”.

Visibly relieved he carefully tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “What then love?”

“You might want to sit down for this Rog”, you said as you led him towards your living room.

As you sat down on the couch opposite of Roger he grasped your hands in his and rubbed slow circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. Your heart pounded in your throat, you were nervous, so nervous, but you had to get it out of your system.

“What’s wrong love?”, Roger asked, and you looked up at him, his blue eyes filled with worry.

“Nothing’s wrong Rog, I’m just a little scared.”

“Scared about what?”

“About how you’re gonna react.”

“React? To what?”, he looked confused.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. It really was now or never.

“Rog…. I’m pregnant.”

[uwupinkmilk]

Hello! Could you do how Nct would confess, please? Thank you! Your blog is so cute! 💕

안녕하세요!��Thank you so much for this request! I know it took me quite a bit to post it (almost 4 months). I had finished it months ago but life has been crazy! Thank you so much for you patience and I absolutely loved writing this and hope you enjoy it! I apologize if some are shorter than the others(I got carried away on some😅). If you would like to request anything else my inbox is open and I am on summer break! Thanks again!

-🍓🥛

A/N: The blurbs below are just my opinions. I could be incredibly far off for reality but I think it was a cute little blurb and I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. If you would like to see this with gifs please view the separate groups individually(Nct 127 - Nct Dream - WayV). 

*Please note that Nct U will not be having a separate one seeing as the line up is constantly changing and I am confused😅!

t a e y o n g(태용): Taeyong seems like someone who tries to meticulously plan things out before acting upon anything.He would probably get to know you first and slowly become friends with you, getting to know all of your interests and dislikes. Taeyong(태용) would love to take you for a wonderful date and would try to convince you to go to a super expensive(비쌉니다) restaurant. However, his plans were thwarted when he forgot to make a reservation(예약). Instead he would take you to all of the well-known street food places and you two would enjoy a night out in Hongdae(훙대). When he brought you home he would confess and it would feel like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

t a e i l(태일): It has been said that he is one of the quieter members, which could mean he is just really shy(수줍어하는). Cutie! Taeil(태일) might have a hard time openly confessing to you. That being said, he would still make an effort to show his feelings for you. Less through words and more through subtle actions. For example, he notices that you don’t have a pen and gets you a box of pens in your favorite color. Or you mention that you’re hungry(배가 고픈) and he buys you food(음식) and attaches a sweet note(메모) to it. Eventually you start to add up all the generous things he has done and ask him about it. It is then that he would more than likely confess his feelings bashfully(수줍게).

j o h n n y(영호): Yeongho is not a shy guy!The two of you would  have been friends(친구들) for a while so the atmosphere between the two of you was very relaxed. After a night of drinking and eating Korean BBQ(고기구이), Johnny would have dragged you to one of the nearby karaoke bars(노래방). After many rounds of Twice(트와이스), SNSD(소녀시대) and Shinee(샤이니) songs Yeongho would ask you to close your eyes. Reluctantly you did until you heard Taemin’s “Move” playing.  Johnny would put everything he had into the song and would flirtatiously smile at you throughout the song. Directly after finishing the song, Johnny asks to take you on a proper date.

y u t a(유타): Yuta and you had been planning to hang out when he got back from touring. It was going to be a day filled with shopping(쇼핑) and eating(먹는), and when the day came you threw on your favorite outfit and met him at the mall(쇼핑몰). The two of you were so excited, you hardly noticed that the outfits you two had picked out looked like a couple’s outfit(커플룩) until an employee asked if you were looking for matching shirts. Yuta(유타) died laughing while a blush appeared on your face as you tried to laugh off the slight embarrassment. Throughout the day, Yuta and you had taken some amazing pictures(사진들) together. While trying on a pair of shoes(신발) you found interesting, Yuta was looking through the pictures you had taken and simply stated, “We would make a great couple.(우리는 멋진 커플이 될 거야.)” You looked up from putting on your shoe and stared at him for a minute before he flashed you his healing smile and hugged you, moving on to looking at another pair of shoes to try on.

k u n(쿤): You and Kun had been friends for a while, and knowing how busy he was you were okay with not getting much time to hang out with him. However, the two of you kept in contact by FaceTiming and texting constantly. One day, he asked you to come over and of course you hurriedly got dressed and when you arrived at the dorms(기숙사) it was quiet. You had been expecting to at least hear Chenle(천러) screaming. Before you could knock, Kun(쿤) opened the door and greeted you with a big hug(포옹하다). He led you to the kitchen table and lit some candles. Finding this slightly humorous you jokingly stated, “Kun, I know you’re a good cook. But I didn’t know you had a private restaurant.” Kun laughed and turned off the lights before putting down an amazing meal in front of you. Right before you could start eating Kun pulled out a deck of cards and said, “Pick a card.(카드를 뽑다.)” Rolling your eyes and laughing you picked the King of Spades. Right before your eyes Kun changed it to the Queen of Hearts that had “Will you go out with me?(나랑 사귀어 줄래?)” written on it.

d o y o u n g(도영):The whole day had been a mess. It started with Doyoung picking you up from your apartment(아파트)/house(집) and the two of you walking to a nearby cafe(카페). On the way there, Doyoung accidentally is staring at you and is slowly walking closer and closer until he bumps into you, knocking you to the ground. You laugh it off, telling him to watch where he is going, but this sends Doyoung into a full panic. When you get to the cafe and place your drink on the table Doyoung tries to pull out your chair(의자) so you can sit down but he pulls it too far causing you to almost fall. This leads you to asking him if he is feeling alright while laughing. As you continue talking about how everything was while he was away on tour he was texting Johnny and asking him for some advice. Of course, Johnny(쟈니) tells Doyoung to just relax and not think too much about it. When he finally looked up from his phone, you had turned to look at the other pastries the cafe offered. He noticed you had a crumb(부스러기) on the side of your face but just as he went to wipe it off you had turned your head causing him to accidentally hit you. Doyoung’s face drops to the table and he says, “This isn’t a good first date is it?(이것은 좋지 않은 첫 데이트에요?)” Your eyes go wide and he looks up and says, “Of course, it’s only a first date if you want it to be!(물론, 네가 원한다면 그건 첫 데이트일 뿐이야!)”

t e n(텐): Ten had dragged you to the new cafe(카페) that opened up around the block from his dorms. You had gotten there so early so that he could pick the exact spot he wanted. He even tried a couple out before deciding to move to another seat, which earned the two of you strange glances from the workers. After finally picking the ideal seat, Ten went to order an Iced Green Tea(아이스 녹차) and a piece of chocolate cake(초콜릿 케이크) to share. The both of you would be taking pictures of not only the food(음식), but together as well.  While looking over the pictures(사진들) you took he would feed you a piece of cake. He chuckled, noticing how focused you were and asked, “What are you doing?(뭐 하는 거야?)” “I’m looking through the pictures we took today! I had such a great time!” “You know we could have more days like this...  It doesn’t have to be our last date.” When you looked at him in surprise he would simply shrug his shoulders and say, “I’m just saying. I’m going to get more cake.(그냥 말하는 거야. 나는 케이크를 더 가져올 거야.)”

j a e h y u n(재현): He radiates hopeless romantic vibes, therefore I feel as though confessing to you would be as easy as drinking water for him. However, he doesn’t want to just simply confess, he wants it to be special!Expect flowers(꽃들), cards and maybe even chocolate(초콜릿).  Jaehyun would call you one morning and tell you to get ready! The whole day would be spent visiting a cute cafe(귀여운 카페), where the two of you would eat pastries and drink coffee(커피). The next stop would be this cute museum(귀여운 박물관) where they let you take pictures! And finally, Jaehyun would bring you to this small restaurant(작은 식당) that had an intimate atmosphere. When you two left the restaurant he would ask,“So did you enjoy our day together? Do you want to do this more often? Because I do!(그래서 우리 함께 즐거운 하루를 보냈지? 너는 이것을 더 자주 하고 싶니? 왜냐하면 내가 하기 때문이다!)”

w i n w i n(윈윈): This soft boi would be a blushing mess around you. I think instead of directly telling you he would make it obvious through his actions. He would occasionally bring you ice cream(아이스크림), especially when you were studying/working(공부/일하기), and would constantly sneak glances over at you when you aren’t looking. Slowly he would start to build up some courage(용기) and the next time he brought you ice cream, he would say, “Maybe next time we could go to this ice cream shop that just opened up.(아마 다음번에는 막 개업한 아이스크림 가게에 갈 수 있을 거야.)”

j u n g w o o(정우): Everyone knows how affectionate this cutie(귀염둥이) is with his members. Therefore, I think he may be 10X more affectionate(다정한) toward those he likes or has a crush on. Whenever he sees you he greets you with hugs(포옹) (as long as you’re okay with it of course!) and has a huge smile(웃음) plastered on his face. He constantly compliments your pictures and always just shows so much interest whenever you talk. One day when you guys are just relaxing(긴장을 풀고 있다), he would be staring at you. When you finally noticed he would just ask you out as if it was a normal ordeal. It would seem so random and casual, but it would be such a big deal for him.

l u c a s(루카스): I feel as though you only have to watch one video(비디오로) with Lucas in it to find out how confident(자신 있다), loud(시끄럽다) and funny(웃기다) this boy-man is. That being said, it is incredibly easy for him to confess his feelings for you… however. He. Is. EXTRA! I feel like since he is the member that eats the most, he would spell out your name with samgyeopsal(삼겹살) on your plate surrounded by a heart made of kimchi(김치). When he showed you he would get all excited and say, “It’s great isn’t it?! Do you like it?(굉장하지?! 마음에 드십니까?)” When you burst out laughing he would be so happy. Your laugh makes his day!

m a r k(마크): Mark would most definitely be at practice or at the studio(스튜디오). When he finally took a break he would text you and snapchat you a lot. That being said, Haechan(해찬) being Haechan would love to bother him about his crush on you. While Mark went off to continue practicing, Haechan took his phone(전화) and asked you out for Mark. At first Mark would be mad, but that would soon subside when he thought of how long he had waited to ask you himself.

x i a o j u n (샤오쥔): This sweet boy would have had a crush on you for a while, but he was just too afraid you would reject him. So when you asked him if he could teach you how to play the guitar(기타를 치다) he quickly agreed even if he was nervous. While he was watching you figure out the strings and strum the guitar playfully, he would quietly mutter to himself, “I love them.(나는 그들을 사랑한다.)”  Unbenounced to him, you heard. You stare at him and while smiling he becomes a blushing mess and tries to bring the conversation to playing the guitar and as he is leaning close to you, you whisper , “I love you too.(나도 사랑해.)”

h e n d e r y(헨드리): The two of you had been friends for a while, so day trips were a normal thing. While on one of your day trips, just through Yongsan Park(용산공원), during the spring(봄). The flowers on the trees(나무들) had just bloomed and Hendery really wanted to take some selcas together. It seemed like the two of you had taken 20 photos(20장의 사진) and when you two sat down to view them Hendery said, “Wow! You’re always so pretty!(대박! 넌 항상 너무 예뻐!)”

r e n j u n(런쥔): This artistic baby would most definitely stress over trying to confess his feelings to you. He would plan out a whole speech(말씨) and try practicing it multiple times in the mirror until Jaemin convinces him that he should just make a card. The floor would most definitely be covered with balled up cards that failed to explain his feelings. The card he finally settled on was a Moomin(무민) shaped card that was written in both Korean, Chinese and English(한국어, 중국어, 영어, 스페인어)[And he google translated Spanish as well(Just in case!)] He would deliver it to you with a single orange tulip(오렌지 튤립) and box of chocolate(초콜릿 한 상자).

j e n o(제노): The two of you would be playing phone games(전화 게임) together on the phone while having a relaxing day in the dorms. The members would joke about how you two never look away and how you two probably don’t even know what day it is. Jaemin(재민) came inside for a minute to grab his pink cardigan(핑크 케리건). While he was putting his shoes(신발) on, Jaemin asked the both of you if you wanted to grab ice cream with him and Donghyuk(동혁). Jeno immediately said, “No, we’re okay.” Jaemin left and Jeno sat up from his laid back position and grabbed your phone so that you would look at him. When you did he asked , “Do you want to get ice cream?” “Didn’t Jaemin just ask if we wanted some and you said ‘no’.” “I didn’t want to go with Jaemin. I want to go with you.(나는 재민이와 함께 가고 싶지 않았다. 나는 너와 함께 가고 싶다.)”

h a e c h a n(동혁): Hyuk would be playing a game on the computer(컴퓨터 게임) whilst you were on your phone(전화기). You were used to his loud antics and hearing him rage at his teammates. However it was so normal you blocked it out. You were so focused on what was on your phone, you hadn’t noticed he turned around and asked you a question. When you didn’t respond he would throw a pen in your direction. When you asked him to repeat himself he said, “I asked if you wanted to go on a date.(데이트를 하고 싶냐고 물어봤다.)”When you blushed he would just laugh and go back to playing his game. This led you to believe that he was just teasing you, but then he said, “You pick the place and we’ll go.(네가 장소를 정하면 우리는 갈 것이다.)”

j a e m i n(재민): This boy is a massive flirt(시시덕거리다)! He knows he likes you but I feel like you would figure it out anyway. There would be months of him showering you with compliments and giving you small gifts(칭찬과 작은 선물). One day in particular was when he became extra flirty, and once he saw you blush he would laugh and hug you tightly. “I’m just teasing you! But we should go on a date soon. I don’t know how much more of the cheesy flirting you can take.(얼마나 더 오글거리는 시늉을 할 수 있는지 모르겠다.)”

y a n g y a n g(양양): Our sweet YangYang speaks almost five languages(which is incredible!). I think the two of you would have to be friends(친구들) in order for him to even tickle the idea of confessing to you. But when he does, he talks so fast that it comes out as a jumble of the five different languages(5개의 다른 언어) and he ends with “You know what I mean?(무슨 말인지 알아?)” This causes the both of you to laugh and for him to take a deep breath before grabbing your hand(손) and pulling you off to go find an ice cream shop(아이스크림 가게) to eat at.

c h e n l e(천러): This sunshine would laugh at all of your jokes and try to be as funny(웃기다) as possible. The two of you would be laughing(웃고 있다) so hard and he would randomly say “Wouldn’t it be funny if we dated?(우리 사귀면 재밌지 않을까?)” He would laugh it off to make it less awkward, but when you stopped laughing he would as well. Poor boy would become so nervous of you saying ‘no’ that he would try to stutter a response. When you just started laughing again and agreed to go out with him, this boy’s smile would create world peace.

j i s u n g(지성): This awkward baby would have such a hard time even being around you if he had a crush on you. He so badly wanted to ask you out that he decided to get tips from his hyungs(형들). However, all the advice he was given would be tossed out the window the second he saw you coming towards him. But he took a deep breath and said, “Y/n would you like to go on out with me?(나랑 데이트 할래?)” He said it so fast that you almost didn’t make out what he said, but the blush on his face confirmed what you thought. This boy would be so happy that you said ‘yes’ that he would immediately go straight to talk to his hyungs(형들)!

[yanderefantasies]

Darling S/O escaping/attempting escape(Reactions/hcs)

Request: “>;3 that's perfect well first and foremost my husband and still love of my life Li Shang *-* annnd I know I know this boy can do no WRONG in anyone's eye's but hear me out... ;w; i'm sorry but i love him to death Milo that's going to be a tough one for you...hmm King Triton i guess ...throw Kocoum in there and oh get a little bit of Jim Hawkins in the mix we have to Clopin(changed to Prince Charming) because fun guy *-* I have crazy taste in Disney dudes ;w; okay all six good luck can't wait to read it when you get the time ^^ have a good day or night”

Requested by: Anonymous

Characters(6);

‘Li Shang’(Mulan) 🗡

‘Milo’(Atlantis) 👓

‘King Triton’(The Little Mermaid)🔱

‘Kocoum’(Pocahontas)🦅

‘Jim Hawkins’(Treasure Planet) 🏴‍☠️

And ‘Prince Charming’(Cinderella) 👠

Notes:this was a lot, but I had a lot of fun writing it. Usually I don’t get requests for so many characters at the same time and honestly I’m happy with this small change of pace, it served as a nice writing challenge for me, so, thanks for the request!<3

Although I will say I didn’t check for spelling mistakes, sorry about that

Song recommendation; (cover)People Become Ghosts(Umber)

~

🗡

Li Shang is beyond shocked and furious. For one, how dare you attempt escaping from him? How could you do something so shallow as to leave your yandere husband behind. Although that’s when Shang starts to think. You had been very distant and quiet lately, but Shang just blamed it on not being able to go out of your shared home that often. That was it! Someone must have tainted your pretty little head, and fed you thoughts of running away from your caring and loving husband.

The first thing he’d do is hunt you down, which-not so surprisingly- was very easy, considering he is the general Shang. Even if that means dragging you back home kicking and screaming. He could always come up with excuses to tell the neighbors.

Once he finally has you tucked away safely in your home, Shang will start pressing you for answers; demanding you to tell him who had started talking to you, who had fed you those ridiculous ideas of ‘escape’.

When you finally give him an answer-and you will-, Shang will go off to find said person, already having millions of ways to deal with that piece of scum. Hell, Shang may even take you with him, just so you could witness the absolute pain and torture he’d put them through. Once you return home again, Shang will make sure to teach you a lesson, how if you intended on defying his will again, you’ll have to be punished.

👓

Milo is so distraught, he’s in such disbelief as to why you’d up and leave him like that. He provided for you, he always made sure you were safe and protected, loved, comforted. Isn’t that enough for you...? Was it because he hadn’t been spending that much time with you lately, since he’s mostly been working for those past few days? If so, that’s ok! He understands now! You wanted to get his attention so he would spend more time with you!! First though, Milo would let you have your fun. Somewhere deep down, he wanted you to have whatever short freedom you had left before he came to take you away once more. He could easily track you down, but he might as well let you have fun first. After all, you hadn’t gone outside in awhile.

Once he deems you’ve had enough time, he’d gather some of the Atlantians with him to go and look for you, (which probably only took around ten to twenty minutes), and have you right back in his arms where you belong. When he drags you back home, he can’t help the grin that stretches across his face as he watches you struggle against his hold the whole way back

You’ll be smothered with affection and comfort. That’s what you wanted right? His attention? He’s more than happy to give that to you. He could have you screaming in no time. Take that as you want.

Although this time he’ll make sure to put on heavier locks for the door, and a better tracking chip for the next time you try to wander off and leave him like that again

🔱

Uh oh

King Triton would be PISSED

How could you leave him? The king.???

He’d easily be able to find you if he decided to sent some servants after you, but instead, he’d do it himself, just so you could feel immediate fear and regret once he finally finds you. And since he’s the king of the sea, he’ll find you in no time.(assuming you’re a merperson, of course. Normally the king is quite humble and kind to you, he treats you as a delicate piece of glass that shant ever be harmed or touched. But you broke his heart, and went against his rules.

You could’ve ruled the kingdom happily together, but you just had to go and make things difficult didn’t you? Atlantis would be in an uproar about the disappearance of their ruler, some would even volunteer to go and look for you, but the king would quickly shoo them off, saying that he’ll look for his ‘beloved bride’ himself.

As soon as he has you back in his kingdom however, expect to be locked up for the next few weeks, and having all your privileges you had before quickly stripped away from you. No more going out, no more talking to other people, no leaving your room, no entertainment, etc. only you, and your empty, barren, room.

🦅

Kocoum would be surprisingly calm throughout the whole ordeal. Naturally, he’d assume you must have gotten lost on your way back home, and couldn’t find your way back, since you were new to the territory and all(he’d be sure to help you out with that) And since he’s already got the land memorized in his head, he could easily find you himself, which is exactly what he does. As soon as you’re even 10 minutes late, he’d already start packing a few things to go out and look for you, since most would quickly lose themselves in the adundance of trees and winding paths

Once he does find you, he’d check for any injuries, feed you if you’re hungry, hug the hell out of you, then immediately take you back home to safety. Kocoum would never limit your time outside just because of a simple mistake like getting lost(even tho’ that’s not what really happened but let’s not let Kocoum know that-)

He would act quite clingy and worried for the next few days though, constantly being at your side to make sure nothing bad happens again, and of course whenever you’re alone he’d tell you where you can and can’t go, places to go to when you’re lost, etc etc. stuff like that.

Kocoum loves the hell out of you, so it wouldn’t come as a surprise to many others once he starts becoming more protective after what had happened, I mean, he’s your husband, and which means he’ll constantly worry about you either way. So while it may seem your time outside isn’t limited, the area around you surely is. Can’t risk you getting lost again, now can we?

🏴‍☠️

Jim is insanely worried, he hates to think about what happened to you, thinking about how you could he hurt, or worse. So he’d make sure to search the area as soon as possible, making sure to check everywhere they can get to, or where they think you can get to. Jim is mostly concerned for your safety than anything, he’s not so much ‘angry’ as he is corncerned.

He’d have time to scold you when you’re back with him later anyways.

Although you escaping also makes him confused, doesn’t he provide you with anything you could possibly ever want? Doesn’t he love you enough? If not, he’s 100% willing to show you how much he really loves you once more when you get back home with him.

Hawkins could never even think about hurting you, not way in hell could he ever bring himself to do such a thing to you. However, he does have other ways to get you to stay with him, and completely forget about even the thought of wanting to leave him.

Jim would try and resolve things with affection and physical intimacy, thinking those would be the best way to get you to stay with him

👠

Charming would try his best to keep the whole ordeal in secret. He wouldn’t want the whole kingdom in a panic because their future ruler had run away, right? That would cause so many problems on his end. So instead, he’d only send out a handful of guards to go after you, with any luck, you’ll be out of the kingdom by then.

The prince doesn’t want people to find out about your escape(mostly because if the kingdom knew their future ruler had been kidnapped, that would completely ruin his image) so after sending a few guards, he’d just go himself, hoping to the gods he finds you soon(don’t wanna attract any attention)

Once he finds you, he’d act as if nothing ever really happened in the first place. He’ll simply brush it off as a one time thing and take you back to your shared kingdom together. Once you’re back home, safe and sound, that’s when he’d really show. The prince will start scolding the ever living hell out of you just to get his point across.

Charming doesn’t want you leaving again like that, so instead, he’d ask for better locks, and you’d receive less privileges. That’s for your punishment, obviously. You wouldn’t be able to get away with it that easily.

[prayedtoyou]

congrats on 100!! my prompt is destiel, accidental marriage + wingfic, up to you whether you want explicit or not ^^

thank you for the request, anon!! here you go ~

marriage: take one (ao3)

Dean wakes with the worst headache he’s ever experienced. He’s pretty damn sure it didn’t hurt this much when he was clawed to shreds by hellhounds or when he crawled out of hell or the numerous times he’s been shot, stabbed, electrocuted, knocked out, and killed. His entire skull is throbbing like his brain is still throwing a rager as wild as the night before.

The night before, of course, is almost a complete blackout. It was Sam’s brilliant fucking idea to vacation in Vegas during a lull in monster hunting and while Dean had been a little on the fence about it, Cas was on board, telling the brothers he needed lessons in gambling. Dean figured, what the hell, and packed up to drive them all the way there. And now, he is filled with nothing but pain and regret.

He hasn’t even opened his eyes yet and it’s still way too bright for his head to tolerate. He has no idea where he is, but he’s fairly sure he’s naked and laying on a lumpy mattress with rough sheets and a thick comforter covering him just from neck to waist. Motel, his brain supplies him with. You’re in a motel.

That would make sense, except Sam wanted to splurge on a four star hotel because we’re vacationing, Dean, live a little. They got a 1,300 square foot suite with three bedrooms on the 26th floor of a casino hotel. Their beds were queen size pillow-top mattresses with towels folded into swans and their mini-fridge was filled with alcohol and there is absolutely no reason why he should be on a lumpy bed with scratchy sheets and listening to an AC cough and whir out half-warm air.

There’s movement on the bed. Fuck, of course, he probably found some broad and wanted to get her alone and checked in to some dingy room for the night when he should have been spending time with his brother and . . . best friend. Who he wanted to talk to about not being best friends anymore.

Or, rather, still being best friends, but more in the I love you and want to kiss you way.

He’s gotta find Cas. Who knows who the hell he hooked up with and whether or not Cas knows about it. He doesn’t want to give him the wrong idea right before confessing to years of repressed pining. He didn’t want to hook up with anyone last night, less it be Cas himself. He remembers the beginning of the night starting out at the casino downstairs from their hotel suite and teaching Cas how to play Texas hold ‘em and laughing at Cas for not understanding what a poker face was and telling Dean that cheating and lying were wrong. Dean moved Cas on to the slots and spent more time staring at his profile from the machine next to him than actually pulling the lever.

He had this whole plan. Show Cas a good time on their first night in the city, get drunk and win a little money, and then go to breakfast the next morning for Bloody Mary’s and maybe a long conversation about their relationship. He did not plan to bang a rando.

He probably didn’t even bang her. He was definitely too drunk last night, there’s no way he could have gotten it up. Not that it would matter if Cas found out. How could he even explain that? Yeah, I’m totally in love with you, nevermind that faceless girl I hooked up with last night. But don’t worry, I had whiskey dick so we probably didn’t have sex.

That conversation is going to go super well.

The body next to his rustles around a little more and groans low. Really low. Like, lower than most guys he knows. Something tickles against Dean’s neck.

“Dean?” the body rasps, followed by a short coughing fit.

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

That is not just some girl or a random body. That’s Cas next to him in bed. Angel of the fucking Lord, Cas.

Dean squints his eyes open and scratches at his neck. He’s hotter than hell, no doubt sweating out everything he drank last night thanks to the broken AC and the July heat and that heavy as hell blanket over him.

“Cas?” The light is becoming a little more bearable but his sight is blurry. The blanket is black as the night and Dean spots Cas’s dark head of hair poking out from under it. “What the hell happened last night?”

Cas shifts and his face becomes visible. He’s squinting even harder than usual. “I . . . I don’t know. I just remember drinking and—” His brows furrow. “You told me something. It was important. Why can’t I remember?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Dean did not want to tell Cas while he was drunk for many reasons, but this one being numero uno. He doesn’t know what he said or how Cas responded or what was decided.

But you woke up with him, didn’t you?

Dean rubs his eyes long and hard, like maybe that will bring back the memories. “That’s what alcohol does, it makes you forget.”

Cas pauses, and then the blanket is pulled up. “Dean, we don’t have any clothes on.”

He shouldn’t, but he pulls his hand away from his eyes to peak one open. Lo and behold, Cas is also wearing a birthday suit. Mostly everything is hidden, save for the curve of his ass. He’s a belly sleeper, of course he is.

And to top it all off, that black blanket that was tickling his neck is less blanket and more wings. Sharp yet soft dark feathers that move and breathe with Cas, hot and heavy and huge. He reaches up to run his fingers through the fluff in front of his face.

A small sound escapes Cas’s mouth. Not quite a moan, but louder than a sigh. Dean glances at him.

“They must have come out last night,” Cas explains. “It takes a great deal of effort to keep them hidden and sometimes, when I lose control, they appear.”

That sort of makes sense. Cas almost looks embarrassed about it.

“Did we . . . last night?”

Cas blinks a few times. “I don’t think so. It’s to my knowledge that humans have difficulty maintaining an erection and achieving orgasm while intoxicated. But it looks as if we may have . . . tried.”

“Fuck,” Dean whispers. He scrubs a hand down his face.

Cas’s face drops from confused to emotionless. “I understand this is not ideal.” His voice is hard as he avoids Dean’s eyes. “I’ll get dressed.”

Cas pulls himself up and  sits at the edge of the bed, his wings folding up and around his body like he’s trying to hide. His wings are massive, no doubt they could take up the entire room if he spread them out. Still, he looks so small and fragile.

“Cas . . .” Dean reaches out to the hand closest to him and grasps it. Cas tries to shake off his hand, but Dean tightens his grip to get his attention. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s fine, Dean.” Cas reaches over with his left hand to remove Dean’s hold on him and stops. Stares at their hands for a long moment. Tilts his head.

“Cas?”

Cas looks back at Dean, eyes wide, and holds up his left hand. A thin silver band is attached to his ring finger.

“I think we got married.”

+ + +

Sam found the incident hilarious. When Dean and Cas located most of their clothes (Cas was still missing a sock and Dean had lost his watch somewhere along the way) and Cas regained enough composure to put his wings away, they awkwardly made their way back to the hotel room and told Sam the news. Sam had laughed about it for nearly five minutes straight. Dean had gone red in the face and locked himself in his room for the rest of the day.

Cas didn’t take it so well. Dean had barely spoken to him since he announced their new marriage status and avoided him as much as possible. Even when they got back to the bunker, Dean spent most of his time either chasing anything that smelled even remotely like a hunt or keeping to himself in his room.

Not that Cas didn’t try. They might never know what happened that night in Vegas, but Cas would be damned if they didn’t at least talk about it. Most of his attempts were met with grunts or shakes of the head.

He didn’t want to ask Dean if he wants an annulment but he didn’t want to stay legally married to someone who won’t talk to him. He had waited for the day that he and Dean might become something more, and now that they are way more than Cas ever dreamed of, Dean wants nothing to do with him.

So he waited. He was patient and kind whenever he saw Dean. He spent a lot of time in the kitchen and library because Dean was bound to pass through one of those rooms at least daily. Instead of talking about what happened, he asked Dean how he slept, if he was having a good day, what he was cooking.

Dean’s grunts turned into actual answers after a few days. He still couldn't hold a whole conversion, but he started meeting Cas’s eyes. Sometimes he would look down at the ring Cas hadn’t taken off yet.

Dean catches Cas in the hallway sometime after midnight about two weeks after returning home. Cas is freshly showered, still in a robe and slippers, hair damp.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been talking to you,” Dean says. “This whole thing has just been really . . . confusing. I just needed time to think.”

Cas isn’t sure how to respond, so he nods instead. The only thing he’s been confused about is the way Dean distanced himself afterward. His feelings for Dean haven’t changed.

“I was really hoping that when we finally got together, we could actually remember it and it wouldn’t feel like such a mistake.”

The word squeezes Cas’s heart tight. “Was it? A mistake?”

Dean’s hand finds Cas’s, and he runs his thumb over the ring. “More like a happy accident.”

Cas tilts his head. He was under the impression that ‘happy accidents’ are what people call their unplanned pregnancies.

“Sure, it didn’t happen the way that we wanted and we can’t remember anything, but I’ve been in love with you for years. I was planning on telling you while we were in Vegas so that maybe we could be more than just friends.”

Cas’s eyes widened at the idea. With the way Dean had been acting since their accidental marriage, he figured that Dean regretted the whole ordeal. He figured Dean wanted to undo it and forget it ever happened. There’s a phrase Dean had said to him right when they passed the Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas sign: What happens here, stays here, got it?

“Mission accomplished, I guess,” Dean awkwardly chuckles. He rubs at the back of his neck. “If it were up to me, I’d say let’s just stay married. But that’s just what I want. What do you want, Cas?”

What the hell does he want? He wants everything. He wants the boyfriend experience and the date nights and the tangle of limbs and the cooking breakfast together. He wants to ask Dean to marry him with a grand gesture that they’ll both tell strangers about for years to come. He wants to marry Dean in a suit with their friends and family and take pictures to hang on the walls of the bunker. He wants to do everything right.

He’s not sure how to articulate all of that to Dean, so he takes it one step at a time. First order of business: “I want a divorce.”

Dean’s face falls. He pulls his hand away from Cas’s gently and stares at Cas’s shoulder instead of meeting his eyes. “Right. Okay, we can . . . do that.”

Dean’s getting the wrong idea. That’s not what Cas intended. He steps forward and pulls Dean’s chin down just enough to press their mouths together. Dean hesitates before kissing him back, but when he does, it’s more than Cas ever imagined.

This is what he wants. This first kiss, their first date, their first time in bed. He’s sure they did those things in Vegas, or some drunken version of them, but he wants them for real. He knows they did those things, but he wants to experience them for the first time and remember for the rest of his life.

He pulls away to look at the surprise in Dean’s expression. “I want a divorce. And then I want to marry you all over again.”

tag list ~

@sweatercas @queenvee08 @curly-cue-scamp @cottondean @flowersforcas @letsgobethegoodguys @sorrycas

[fencer-x]

Belated end-of-year fic meme

So, it’s already 2020, but I couldn’t technically post this meme until Erised reveals went up, so I’m posting it now! These are just some comments and discussions about the writing that I did this year. High word count, low fic output--that’s pretty normal for me!

GENERAL STATS

List of Fics Posted:

Fandom: Harry Potter Every New Beginning (141k, explicit; Eighth Year fic + time traveling) Pensieve For Your Thoughts (22k, explicit; pinch hit for HD Erised 2010, Eighth Year fic w/a fair bit of dubious consent going on)

Fandom: Promare spend some time with me (i really like your company) (73k, explicit [to be on the safe side]; canon re-write)

Total number: 3 Total word count: 236,239

Ship/character breakdown: Ship breakdown: [Harry Potter] Drarry, Hermione/Ron, Pansy/Parvati, and little tiny hints of other ships; [Promare] GaloLio, background implied Gueira/Meis

Characters that had the main focus: I'm happy to report I wrote from Draco's POV for the first time! My HP fics so far have all been Harry POV, so it was actually fun writing from Draco's POV, though I think most of my fics work better from Harry POV. Promare fic was from Lio's POV mostly because that's what the fic called for, and it was interesting--not sure if I'd go for that POV on the usual (update since I drafted this post: I think, strangely enough, I prefer Lio’s POV, as I’m well into fic #2 from his perspective). Promare fics focused, also, on Mad Burnish, which I really enjoyed writing (I'm much more of a Mad Burnish fan than Burning Rescue, so perhaps that's why XD)

Details

Best/worst title?

Best title: This is gonna be very subjective. I'm actually happy with all three of the titles?? I think Every New Beginning, though; because it's only after you finish the fic that you realize it's a (SPOILER ALERT) spoiler for the entire story. I like that little detail :D

Worst title: maybe spend some time with me (i really like your company)? I actually like the title, but it's a little bit OF a cop-out, just lifitng a line from lyrics, and it's difficult to google XD (update since I drafted this post: YOU FOOL, YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN FOR YOUR NEW FIC NOW, WHY??? YOU CAN’T TRACK THAT)

Best/worst first line?

Best: I am far less comfortable with opening lines than closing ones. But I guess my favorite of these three is, /Kray Foresight liked to think himself a patient man./ The others are kind of generic, and it was interesting writing this bit from Kray's POV. Not a fun headspace.

Worst: /In retrospect, he should never have trusted a book that came from Pansy./ Not a terrible opener. Not an amazing one. In my defense, I was pressed for time when I wrote it, and I probably would've stewed over it a little longer to pick something with a bit more hook, but it did the job.

Best/worst last line?

Best: I'm satisfied with all of them, but I liked the entire epilogue of ENB, so the final line is probably my favorite: /He devoured his breakfast in record time, then Banished his tray and dishes back to the kitchen before tossing aside the duvet and padding into the bathroom to deliver his complaints about the turkey bacon to the chef in person./

Worst: It was tough finding a place to end the Promare fic that felt satisfying, so probably this one: /The distant whir of chopper blades whistling through the air grew louder and louder, and Lio leaned in to press his lips against Galo’s, lingering as long as he possibly could before whispering, “…Why don’t you start by teaching me how to ride a motorcycle?”/

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

More! Because if I'd gone by my original plan, I'd have completed precisely one (1) fic this year in Every New Beginning. I was well into drafting my next fic after that when I tripped headlong into the Promare fandom, and I was eager to get that fic out before fandom died down, so I poured myself into it. Then the Erised fic was a pinch-hit, so I wasn't expecting to write it at all.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

Well. Promare didn't exist last year, so 8D I also probably wouldn't have predicted I'd write any Pansy/Parvati and find it cute.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

SSTWM, I think! I've had SO much fun with Promare so far, and getting to explore a slight twist on the canon, building out the Burnish society and delving into relationships I wished I'd seen explored further in the canon was really satisfying. I'm glad I wrote it.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

...And it's also my most popular story this year, too, by pretty much every metric AO3 can give me: hits, kudos, and bookmarks (ENB has more comments, but it's also been out rather a lot longer). The Promare fandom is hot hot hot right now (no pun intended), so I expect that contributed.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

Probably my pinch-hit right now, if only because I wasn't able to show it off when it got posted because of the Erised rules. It's also a one-shot, whereas ENB is a multi-chapter monster.

Story that could have been better?

Wish I'd had a bit more time to play with my Erised submission, but them's the breaks with pinch-hitting! I'm satisfied with how it came out, but me being me, I love writing longfic and would've wanted to make something more of it.

Sexiest story?

Pensieve For Your Thoughts, very much so :D

Saddest story?

Every New Beginning, definitely. It's not a sad fic, per se, but it's quite sad in places, and the overall plot is not a happy one. It has a happy ending, but you'll want to read the tags carefully before checking it out.

Most fun?

SSTWM, getting to flesh out the Burnish colony--LOTS of fun. Gueira and Galo's rivalry in particular was a hoot XD

Story with single sweetest moment?

I think this bit from SSTWM:

“But maybe I can do something a little more my style?”

“Your style?” Lio repeated, dubious, and Thymos brought a hand up, resting it just over his heart. Lio tried not to let his eye linger on the spangling of scars covering his bare arm—was he not freezing, nearly naked as he was?

“When I was recovering in the hospital after the fire Kray rescued me from, he used to come and visit me. Sometimes he’d bring food, or toys, or games—but this one time he brought me a book. It was about firefighters—firefighters from all over the globe, way back before the Great World Blaze, even. That’s where I learned about the ones from that Asian country, see. But there was this one chapter about firefighters from this huge city—looked a lot like Promepolis, actually—and it was so huge, there used to be thousands of these firefighters who worked day and night to keep it safe. And when someone wanted to join their ranks, they had to get up in front of all their peers and speak an oath.”

Lio held his breath, though he wasn’t quite sure why, and tuned every nerve in his body to Thymos in that moment.

Thymos closed his eyes, his hand still splayed over his heart. “‘I promise concern for others, and a willingness to help all those in need. I promise courage: Courage to face and conquer my fears. Courage to share and endure the ordeal of those who need me. I promise strength of heart to bear whatever burdens might be placed upon me, and strength of body to deliver to safety all those placed within my care. I promise the wisdom to lead, the compassion to comfort, and the love to serve unselfishly whenever I am called.’” He opened his eyes, fixing Lio in place. “I promise. All of it.”

Lio’s heart was thudding mercilessly in his chest, and he worried that if he opened his mouth to speak, it might just leap right out. He swallowed thickly to keep it in place and then rasped, “...Grand words for a glorified member of a bucket brigade.”

“Was hoping you’d be impressed I remembered it, after all these years.”

“I am,” Lio said, taking great pains to ensure his sincerity came through.

Hardest story to write?

Pensieve For Your Thoughts; I dislike anything resembling noncon, and while I'm satisfied with what I did, if I'd had more time, I would've found a workaround so the consent wasn't nearly as dubious. I think my recipient liked it, though, so all's well! I also find writing porn difficult, and that story was like 70% porn XD Why I did that to myself, we'll never know.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

Every New Beginning, especially all the bits of Harry and Draco getting closer; I love writing their banter, LOVE IT. I wish I could write a story that's nothing but banter. Someone pay me to do that please.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

I love Lio, but we don't get too much characterization in the film; it was therefore kind of eye-opening writing from his POV. Of course no fan's characterization is going to be quite the same as what the creators might have imagined, but I still enjoyed what came out of it.

Most overdue story?

Eh, two of them weren't on any sort of deadline whatsoever, and I'm pretty sure I got my Erised piece in before the deadline! So we were good this year :)

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I used NaNoWriMo as a 'goal' for finishing my Promare fic--I not only finished the fic, I also completed 50k of it during November, so I technically beat NaNoWriMo too! I learned that if I really want to hit a goal and feel like I have to, I have the complete and total capacity to do that. It's just a matter of will for me.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

To finish my next Drarry fic, aka the one that was supposed to come after Every New Beginning but got pushed to the back-burner by the sudden insistent arrival of Promare in my life. I also want to write for Erised PROPERLY this year and organize a Promare fanwork event around the one-year anniversary :D

[ggoob]

ok but let’s talk for a second about david as a character.

the man acts like a real person. like he’s got his annoyingly positive personality with his little cant hurt a fly thing, but he also fucks up and doesn’t always stick to that archetype. like in The Fun-Raiser, he helps gwen deceive the parents (and ends up sobbing w how sorry he is), Cult Camp, where he lets jealousy take over, and arguably most notable, in Keep the Change, david is so desperate to prove a point he literally hires a criminal to fake rob the camp, WITH THE KIDS RIGHT THERE shenanigans

david has d e p t h. like i said before, he’s more than his hufflepuff personality. he’s got trauma (mostly tied to jasper and campbell). he NEEDS to make sure everyone is happy (or at least not depressed. we see this throughout the series as he tries super hard to make max happy and settles for keeping him comfortable.) he blatantly says this in Order of the Sparrow, and his need for people to be happy is especially apparent in David Gets Hard and a few others. he’s quite adaptable as a character, and rarely sticks to his archetype, as opposed to others like campbell (greedy, moral-less, capitalist), gwen (anxiety and regret), or even max (j depressed n Angery). if you look closely, you can see david responding differently to each camper and their needs, and he actually processes events and responds to them accordingly — whether it’s appropriate for his character archetype is fairly irrelevant.

tying back to the trauma, he’s 👏🏼 got 👏🏼 motivation 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 i’d argue he isn’t just happy-go-lucky cause that’s who he is or what he needs, but because he wants to prevent what campbell did to jasper from happening again. even though young david seemed unaffected by the whole ordeal and still revered campbell (Into Town), i think seeing campbell’s blatant arrogance/ignorance/apathy toward jasper created the beginnings of his mistrust for him. i’d also like to think that david has SOME inkling of what really happened, and that jasper actually died and didn’t just leave camp, but just went with the story cause it made him feel better (and to protect max/neil/nikki from that shit). david wants to have a connection with the campers so they don’t feel/end up like jasper — dead and lowkey resenting the counselors. david doesn’t want them to feel forgotten or left out or used, and so that desire feeds into his personality and nature.

tl;dr: david is one of the strongest written cartoon characters i’ve ever seen

[warriors-windandfireau]

Wind and Fire AU: Fire and Ice - Chapter Three

Read on Ao3

WindClan burst into the large clearing of Fourtrees. Firepaw suddenly realized how long it had been since he had stepped paw into the enormous clearing. Seeing the four great oaks towering in each of the corners, as well as the large boulder that the leaders sat on in the center of it, made him all the more excited and happy at being able to leave the camp again.

Glancing around the clearing, as well as making out the scents the best he could, he realized that ThunderClan and RiverClan were already there. Many groups of cats were spread throughout the wide space, talking and gossiping about StarClan knows what. He saw Bluestar and Crookedstar perched atop the Great Rock, while their respective deputies and medicine cats sat around the base of the rock.

Firepaw was so caught up in taking in the sights of Fourtrees that he jumped slightly as he heard Whitepaw's voice from so close to him. "Wow! It's so big!"

"Told you," Onepaw replied. He glanced around the clearing for a moment before adding, "Looks like ShadowClan isn't here yet, so we have some time for ourselves before the Gathering starts."

"I'm gonna go find some other cats to talk to! It's gonna be so much fun! Who wants to come with me?"

After some momentary silence, Webpaw shrugged, glancing around the crowd. “I’ll go. I don’t have much else to do. Usually, before the Gathering begins, we try to find some apprentices from the other Clans to meet.”

Whitepaw nodded, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. “Well then, let's go! There are so many cats to meet.” She turned to Onepaw and Firepaw. “What about you two?”

Firepaw laughed slightly, glancing nervously out at the crowd. “There’s someone I want to meet with.”

Onepaw shrugged, adding, “Figured I’d tag along with Firepaw.”

Whitepaw nodded. “Well, you two have fun! I sure will!” She giggled enthusiastically, and without any more hesitance, dragged Webpaw out into the crowd of cats.

“So, I’m guessing you want to speak with Greypaw?” Onepaw inquired once the two other WindClan apprentices vanished.

Firepaw nodded slightly, looking around at the loud, bustling group of cats. “Yeah, but I figured I’ll just check around to see if there are any other cats I know first.” He paused. “Although, yeah, eventually I do wanna check up on him.” An image of Greypaw during the ShadowClan raid flashed in his mind, and he frowned slightly.

Onepaw chuckled slightly. “Well, I suppose we should check out the ThunderClan crowd. We don’t really know anyone in RiverClan.”

Firepaw hummed in agreement, padding off towards the scents of ThunderClan, with Onepaw not far behind.

The two spent a bit of time checking around. They could recognize quite a few faces, (to both of their surprise) but none did they know well enough to consider an acquaintance.

That is, till Onepaw nudged Firepaw, pointing his tail towards a pair of ThunderClan apprentices. “Hey, remember them?”

Firepaw squinted, before recognizing the two faces. “Sandpaw and Dustpaw.” He nodded, remembering seeing the two ThunderClan apprentices during the battle with ShadowClan. “We could go speak with them.”

Onepaw padded over to the two, and Firepaw followed his friend. Sandpaw noticed their approach first, and she looked at the two with a flash of recognition before begrudgingly welcoming them. When Dustpaw noticed them, he seemed put off by their friendliness, but welcomed them as well.

“How have you two been doing?” Onepaw asked, sitting down in front of the two, with Firepaw following suit not long after.

“Fine,” Sandpaw replied curtly.

“Well, er,” Onepaw muttered, a bit awkwardly, “how has ThunderClan been since the ordeal with Brokenstar?”

“We have been faring well.” This time it was Dustpaw who replied. “Not too many cats were injured, anyway.”

"What about your Clan?" Sandpaw added curiously. "You guys were affected the most by Brokenstar and his allies."

Firepaw thought for a moment. “We’ve been… well,” he began to continue. “Well, a few cats died when we were forced out- Tallstar will probably mention them during his speaking time in the Gathering- but we’ve been repairing the camp ever since we got back. Leaf-bare is always tough, of course.”

“How would you know that?” Sandpaw suddenly said, a hint of something aggressive in her tone.

“W-what?” Firepaw stammered, confused at the molly’s reaction.

“You’re a kittypet. Or, at least, were, yes?” she said, a hint of accusation in her tone.

“Why does that matter?” Onepaw shot back before Firepaw could say anything in his defense.

Firepaw could see some sort of tenseness incoming, so he gently touched Onepaw’s shoulder with his tail, before turning back to Sandpaw. “Yes, I was a kittypet. I joined WindClan when I was six or seven moons. Why?”

“Meaning you don’t know a thing about how difficult leaf-bare can be,” she said without missing a beat.

Firepaw made sure to reply before Onepaw could snap back. “You’re right. I had no struggle with leaf-bare during my time in Twolegplace. But I do know how difficult it can be- I was stuck in a tunnel with the rest of WindClan for the majority of this one.”

Dustpaw was the one to speak this time. “It’s difficult for all Clans to survive in these times.”

“And cats shouldn’t be bringing things up that don’t matter as if they’re important,” Onepaw muttered.

“Calm yourself, rabbit-chaser. We’re just making conversation.” Dustpaw sniffed.

“Hey, hey. Come on,” Firepaw attempted to calm down the situation. “It’s good to see you two again. We should just continue being peaceful, right?”

“Right.” Sandpaw nodded.

“Right…” Onepaw muttered with a slight hesitance.

Firepaw sighed in relief, and found himself unsure where to continue with the conversation. “So- er- did Greypaw come to the Gathering?” he blurted, before immediately regretting his words.

“Why?” Sandpaw inquired, suspicion lining her voice.

“I just… want to check up on how he’s doing…” Firepaw mumbled.

“Well, he did come. I last saw him over there.” She pointed her tail at another throng of cats.

Firepaw nodded. “Thank you. I’m gonna go look for him. Onepaw…?”

“I’ll stay here. I might join you later, though,” the brown tom said slowly.

“Right.” He nodded in farewell to the three, before heading towards where Sandpaw had directed she had last seen Greypaw.

It took him a few moments to spot his friend. When he did, he saw that Greypaw was sitting alone towards the edge of the large clearing, grooming himself.  After glancing around, Firepaw approached the grey tom. 

It took a bit for Greypaw to notice Firepaw approaching, but when he did, he blinked in surprise, lifting his head up from grooming himself.

Firepaw smiled slightly at him. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Of course not.” Greypaw nodded at the spot before him.

Firepaw took his place in front of Greypaw. “How have you been?”

Firepaw could remember how distraught Greypaw had been last time they spoke to one another, crouching near Silverpaw, unmoving and refusing to speak. It was a stark difference to how he looked now. Still, though- it was unnerving that Greypaw was just sitting alone, rather than the usual of enthusiastically chatting with his Clanmates.

“I’ve been okay.” There was a certain hesitation before Greypaw responded. “You?”

Firepaw wasn’t quite sure how to respond- of course, he had said he was fine when speaking with Sandpaw and Dustpaw, as he didn’t know the two well, but now that he was with someone who he trusted and considered a friend, he found himself pausing. 

Upon noticing Firepaw’s lack of response, Greypaw smiled somewhat. “Right. Yeah. Leaf-bare has been difficult.”

Firepaw nodded in agreement. “It used to be so easy in Twolegplace,” he realized, remembering Sandpaw’s spiteful words. 

“Must be different from what you went through in the last moon, huh?” Greypaw chuckled, although there wasn’t much humor in the noise.

Firepaw nodded, but before he could think of something to say, he saw a cat approaching in the corner of his eye.

When he craned his head to see who it was, he realized it was Onepaw. Greypaw nodded in greeting, while Firepaw muttered a quick “hello”.

However, by the time Onepaw settled, and appeared as though he was about to speak, there was a loud noise from one of the entrances to the Gathering. ShadowClan cats swarmed into the clearing, with Nightpelt in the lead. 

The Clan looked significantly different from the last time Firepaw had seen them. Most cats seemed less thin, their coats just a bit fuller, their eyes just a bit brighter. 

Nightpelt wasted no time in heading for the leader’s rock. His head was held high, and he showed little hesitance when he took his place beside Crookedstar.

It seemed that the other leaders were impatient in waiting for the Gathering to start from there. Almost as soon as Nightpelt took his place, Bluestar stepped up and let out a yowl to catch the attention of the gossiping cats below.

The bellow immediately forced the crowds into silence. Tentative ears waited for Bluestar to tell her announcements.

“ThunderClan has been faring well during the last moon. Prey has been difficult to find, but that is expected during leaf-bare. Nonetheless, we thank StarClan for the gifts we have been given. There isn’t anything else worth mentioning.” The large molly dipped her head, stepping back to let another leader take her place.

After a few glances among the four cats, Tallstar stepped in front of the three. 

The cats of the Gathering seemed to quiet even more, curious and eager to hear what was going on with WindClan; after all, they had vanished for so long so suddenly.

“I am sure many cats here are curious to hear where WindClan has been during these past few moons. It’s a complicated story, one that I will not go into detail about, but we were driven out of our territory by a patrol sent by Brokenstar.” He didn’t bother pausing, as he didn’t want to give the cats below a chance to interrupt him yet. “We were forced to travel far, far away, and had to stay in a damp, flooded tunnel for an unfortunate amount of time. Thankfully, the ThunderClan apprentice Greypaw came to find us. We were able to come back to our territory. 

“Things have been well enough since then- we have been working to repair our camp, and leaf-bare is especially difficult. However, there were losses. Spiderdapple and Willowspot died in the battle in which we were being forced from our territory, Eaglekit died during a flood in our temporary tunnel camp, and two of Morningflower’s kits died during kitting. Each were a great loss to our Clan.”

Tallstar finally went quiet. The entire clearing was shocked into silence for a good few seconds, before there were numerous loud shouts and yells. Many cats were furious over the violations of the warrior code, others were horrified by the amount of deaths in so short a time.

It took multiple attempts from Tallstar to try to quiet the Clans, and when he finally succeeded, he finished off his report.

“All of WindClan, as well as I’m sure many others in other Clans, will grieve over the loss of these innocent cats. But alas, now that we are back, we hope to return to ordinary Clan life.”

Tallstar stepped back, and thankfully, this time there wasn’t an immediate reaction of bellows and angry shouts from the Clan cats. Crookedstar quickly took the place of where Tallstar had stood.

“It has been difficult for RiverClan in the past moon, but we have been alright. There hasn’t been too much freezing over the river, thankfully. However, I am unhappy to report that one of our apprentices, as well as my daughter, Silverpaw, was killed in a battle. Me and my Clan are still grieving over her loss.”

There was a brief silence among the Clan cats, confusion and sadness settling over the groups. However, this reflection was short-lived, as Nightpelt wasted no time in stepping up.

“I am sure you were unhappy to hear about Brokenstar’s decision to drive out WindClan. However, he has been driven out by the loyal cats of my Clan, along with his allies. I have taken his place as the leader of ShadowClan. I have yet to take the trip to the Moonstone, however, my name has changed from Nightpelt to Nightstar.”

Firepaw felt a brief flash of confusion at his words- after all, he had been told that StarClan was the one to give that name. However, his feelings of confusion were quickly forgotten as he heard a low growl.

He glanced over, surprised to see Greypaw glaring up at Nightpelt- or Nightstar.

Firepaw had no time to ask what was wrong before his friend stood up and began speaking.

Or, perhaps, spitting was a better word.

“How dare you?” His howl echoed around the clearing, and was met with silence. “Oh, ‘your loyal followers’? I’m sorry, your memory must be failing you! From what I remember, the majority of your cats either fought for Brokenstar, or stood by, watching and doing nothing like cowards! Do you forget about Onepaw and Firepaw, the entire ThunderClan patrol, for StarClan’s sake, Silverpaw? She gave her life to get that wretch out of the Clans, and she’s being rewarded with what? What?” He genuinely paused, even if it seemed to be a rhetorical question. No one answered. 

“She gets to be brushed over, forgotten, and given no credit. Was RiverClan even told how she died, or could you not even push away that small of an amount of your fragile pride? Or are you so fox-hearted to completely forget about how a young apprentice threw away her life for your Clan?

“And then you have the audacity to call yourself ‘Nightstar’! There is only one group of cats that can give you such a name; StarClan. It isn’t something self-given! By StarClan, you don’t even have nine lives! Oh, and what is your excuse? You had half a whole moon to take the short trip to the Moonstone! Were you so busy with repairing your Clan that not a single night could be spared? Or did you- did you find it unnecessary to- to-”

Greypaw’s flow of speaking was interrupted, and he shook his head, growling. “You disgust me, Nightpelt.”

And with that, the grey apprentice stormed off, shoving through the crowd to the outskirts of the clearing to where Firepaw couldn’t see him.

Firepaw found himself shocked into silence. He knew that Greypaw was upset by Silverpaw’s death, but he wasn’t aware it was still to the point where he’d belittle a Clan leader in front of a Gathering. 

The other cats in the clearing were similarly silent.

Firepaw felt a strong urge to follow his hurt friend- Greypaw was clearly very upset, and Firepaw could only hope he’d be okay.

However, he wasn’t able to do this.

Bluestar’s voice echoed around the clearing. “I think it is best we end the Gathering. We all are finished sharing information.”

The other leaders agreed, and just like that, the cats below were set in motion, preparing to leave.

Still, Firepaw couldn’t help but desperately hope Greypaw was okay.

[naomi-owens]

guess who’s expecting!

who? Naomi Owens & Amy Taylor where? Janey Taylor’s Wedding when? February 16th, 2019

Weddings, at least for Naomi, has always been one of her favorite things. There was something about the affair that brought out the best mood in every single guest — love was in the air, who couldn’t be swept up in the romance of it all? The ceremony was near perfection with a pair of vows that moved Naomi to tears, while the spacious venue the guest relocated to blared with funky music and dancers moving around the dance floor was laughs on their face. By then Naomi had tore herself away from the table she shared with Michael and her brother, moving on toward the snack table before the dinner would be served. Scanning across the plates offered up, Naomi grabbed a few cubes of cheese to pop into her mouth, though immediately scrunched her nose. “Well, I guess I ain’t a fan of spicy jack anymore.” She laughed as she noticed Amy approach her side, right around the time she swiftly crumbled up the cheese into a napkin to quickly throw away. “Babe!” The brunette then grinned, turning around to face Amy, clad in her pink wrapped dress. “This is so gorgeous.”

Although the wedding had been in the works for a few months only, when the day finally rolled around, Amy breathed out with relief. Finally, it's here. Someone might have thought she was overwhelmed and annoyed with all the planning and all the conversations that have been had over the past few months, but it wasn't that which held her breath to ransom in her chest. It was that finally, after all these years, Janey Taylor would make her happiness official once more. Whatever the differences the eldest child had with her mother, it was ultimately all she wanted for the woman that had given birth to her: happiness. And though Amy would be the first to say having a man did not equate a happy life, she was glad that her mother would no longer be alone. Legally, emotionally, or in any other way. That, however, was not where her mind was at as the day progressed into the evening and the party was in full swing. No, something else had kept her mental gears busy and preoccupied, lurking for a private moment with her oldest friend. Something she had mentioned that morning as she was helping the Taylor girls with their makeup, and traces of which she had noticed throughout the day, now that she had been made aware of them. Finally spotting her friend on her own by the snack table, Amy did her best to sashay over to her, the sage green of her dress and the matching clutch holding three (3!) different pregnancy tests, helping her blend in with the background. "Having fun?" Amy wondered with a smile on her lips, taking a quick look around the room. "Mom's outdone herself. You know she basically planned this whole thing on her own? I'm amazed." Yes, the kids helped run errands, but it was all at Janey's directive. "I kind of need to talk to you, though. Can you come with me to the bathroom?"(edited)

“Oh, totally.” The teacher laughed, before feeling the surprise take on over. “Your Mom did all this? Does she want to hand over that planner and mojo whenever I get hitched? Because... damn.” Naomi complimented as she allowed two large hues to scan over the crowded venue once more — it was no secret that the wedding she was planning once before it went up in flames was very similar to the idea, but this was all she could ever want herself. A warm ceremony to officiate a love, followed by a rowdy reception where nothing else could be heard other than laughter and good music. “Now we know how spectacular yours and Aubrey’s is gonna be.” The brunette then winked, loosely clasping her hands together in front of her. The night was going on perfectly without a hitch, so when Amy opted for a ladies room break, Naomi simply chuckled and ducked to gather some material of her dress so it wouldn’t drag on the ground. “Of course. I actually need to fix some smudges anyway.” She gestures toward her lashes, thinning nothing of the suggestion before she was twisting to head toward the side exit with Amy. “Everything okay?”

It was impressive, Amy agreed. Not only did Janey know what she wanted, but she knew how to get it, too. No vendors could persuade her otherwise, and it showed in every carefully chosen detail, every delicate flower that adorned the tables spread out throughout the room. And Janey Ta─ Madison, now─ shone like the brightest star in her gorgeous, yet simple and appropriate white dress, holding her new husband by the hand as if they had only just gotten together. Which, in a way, they did, Amy admitted to herself, smiling at the newlyweds dancing not too far away from them. "You know she's gonna make herself an honorary planner whenever you find the man that deserves all the goodness you've got to give." The two families had been so closely intertwined that, yes, Janey Madison would 100% be involved in the planning of Naomi's wedding (if only to drag Pamela away before Naomi lost her nerves entirely and strangled her). Warning flashed in Amy's hazel eyes, a decided shake of her head discarding the idea of a wedding happening any time soon. "Let's not talk about those, not even hypothetically." Lacing arms with Naomi, the two of them adorned in their gentle pink and green dresses like heralds of spring amidst the winter themed décor. "I don't know yet. You'll tell me in a few minutes." The ominous tone of her words could not be avoided as they reached the restroom, and Amy set out to check all the stalls and make sure they were all empty.

Amy did have a point, not that Naomi had minded all that much. With how intertwined the two families had become to be over her entire life there was no doubt a Taylor hand would be played with her big day. Not only Janey, but she always envisioned Amy to be one of a few girls to be standing up there with her as she exchanged her vows. The smile that was on her face because of it didn’t even disappear as they made their way through the venue. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Your Mama is just proving she’s a genius.” Naomi laughed as she walked along beside Amy, unable to help the eye roll that followed suit. If she knew Amy Taylor well enough by now, she knew the idea of her being thrown in a white dress was almost as dreadful as a natural disaster tearing up the town. It wasn’t that it wasn’t possible — but that more or less happened on Amy’s terms. “Well, you better duck and cover when you wait out there for the bouquet toss.” The teacher winked, before slipping into the bathroom. She didn’t pay much mind to it as she moved toward the mirror and began the original task she had in mind, but the twinge in Amy’s rasp had her brows furrowing together. That, coupled with the suspicious way Amy has checked the stalls, had Naomi turning away from the mirror to look toward her friend. “Okay, now you’re being a total weirdo.” Her brows furrowed. “What are you so amped up over?”

"Girl," Amy said, shaking her head at the thought, "you know I won't even be in that lineup. I'll conveniently have to deal with an emergency when she tosses the bouquet and I'll let you and Bree fight over which one catches it instead." Okay, so, maybe avoiding the ordeal was pushing it, but Amy would certainly try to remove herself from the trajectory of the flowers that would quite possibly be aimed at her. Between Wes having a child when he was eighteen, and Amy losing her loved one at the age of seventeen, the Taylors had yet to celebrate or crown one of their kids tying the knot. And Bree was just too young. I mean, twenty-eight is ridiculously young, right? Or so Amy's inner protective sister thought. That, however, was neither here nor there as the subject matter Amy wanted to discuss had nothing to do with any of her family. Having made sure no curious ears would be listening in on the conversation she was about to have with her childhood friend, Amy joined the doe eyed woman at the mirrors, setting her purse down on the sink. "Okay, so, remember how you came earlier today and you were feeling all weird and wonky? And you've mentioned being sick a few times in the last few days?" She began, hesitant, for once beating around the metaphorical bush. "It got me thinking and..." She reached into the little purse matching her dress, drawing out three different pregnancy tests sans their original packaging because it wouldn't fit that way. "Can you just humor me and take these? Or at least one of them?"

“Oh, you’re funny. You act like I’m not going to be dragging that booty out there with me. It’s tradition!” If Amy knew her as well as she said she did, she would then know that Naomi was a stickler for traditions. She even went as far as pointing her fingers into the mirror so the reflection was technically pointing to the other brunette when she spilled the space beside her. Returning her attention back to the mirror and leaning in close to adjust a smudge, Amy’s words at first seemed rather casual, and Naomi didn’t think much of it. “I’m beginning to think it was the bad case of taco Tuesday.” It didn’t seem reasonable, but Naomi laughed it off anyway. There could only be a handful of explanations, right? But those tests came into view out of the corner of her eye, and Naomi stalled immediately, looking over toward her friend. At that point, she actually couldn’t help the hard laugh that escaped her mouth. “Amy, what?” She laughed again, shaking her head. “You’re kidding. Seriously...?” Her body then turned toward her friend. “There’s no way.” It wasn’t the most far off thing in the world. If Naomi stood witness to Amy going through similar signs, she would swear up and down she was about to be an auntie to be. Naomi just stood by the fact that she knew her body and would have known, as one little slip up in the past month wouldn’t have granted her... well, a child. Her brows creased together and she immediately reached out to grasp one of the tests, holding it up. “You went out and bought three tests? You psycho.” She shook her head, laughing. “They’re going to be all negative. It’s just an off week.”

Not only did Amy know Naomi had great respect for tradition and wouldn't dream of breaking this particular one, she also knew Naomi would make sure Amy was stood beside her for the bouquet toss, leaving not even a sliver of possibility for the older brunette to duck away. Not that it would stop Amy, who saw herself as far too serious for these things in the first place. "Mmm, we'll see about that," she shrugged her shoulders, not really eager to get into it when she knew she'd lose, no matter how stubborn she was. A bad case of taco Tuesday could explain some things, but not the fact that it was now Saturday and Naomi had been acting off all the while. The laughter that spilled from her friend's mouth wasn't unexpected, and Amy greeted it with stern seriousness, the three tests unflinching before Naomi. "I'm not kidding. Do you know who called Iris's pregnancy first? This girl," she pointed her thumb at herself. "I have my reasons to suspect, and if it turns out I'm right, I'll be a truffle pig for pregnant women, but that's a bridge I'll cross when we have the results." Wide-eyed and a little outraged by Amy's suspicion, Naomi, however, broke through her disbelief and finally agreed. "I'm not a psycho, I'm just thorough! These things aren't 100% certain, so if they all show the same thing, I figure I'll believe them. So come on, thank god you've had all that bubbly out there," Amy joked, making a mental note to keep Naomi away from the champagne chutes once they got out of there if it turned out that her friend was wrong.

It was a little difficult to even begin to take Amy seriously when she was holding those three pregnancy tests before her, picturing her best friend roaming the drug store looking for the best brands, with a look on her face that told Naomi there was no avoiding this. There was literally no way that this could happen, Naomi was probably the most careful woman there could be, but this kind of thing didn't just happen to her... At least not without a whole lot of planning on her part, and she really didn’t plan something like this. The laugh that left her mouth was a bit sarcastic as much as it was genuine, since she did actually find this entire thing humorous. But if this would amuse Amy, so be it. “You’re still a little crazy. You’re at your mom’s wedding, and you have three pregnancy tests stuffed in your purse! What if Cass found these?” Her brow arched, though she plucked them out of her grip anyway. To humor her, she would just do it. “Yeah, well, Iris also had a fiancé and was totally fertile with the second kid after Sophie. This is you just being totally paranoid.” With that, Naomi set her little clutch down near the table underneath the mirror and actually went for the bathroom stall to have a little privacy to do the deed and the business. For the next minute or so the only thing that could be heard was ripping of a few packages, humming to distract herself, before a quick flush and Naomi was pushing the door open with her heel as she was carrying the dried tests wrapped with torn off tissue. “You’re going to be severely disappointed, I hope you know..” Naomi deflected as she moved to set the tests down on a paper towel, then run her hands underneath the water to wash. “You totally made me pull a Snooki at your mom’s wedding!”

[primatechnosynthpop]

A Rose Shall Bloom (And Then Shall Fade)- part 4

Once, at a holiday party, Claire and a few of her friends sat around the kitchen table, drinking and talking amongst themselves. Claire decided to tell them some entertaining stories about difficult customers she’d had at work. Her friends, most of whom no longer worked themselves, nodded along and laughed as she recounted a story of one woman who had come in two minutes after closing time and demanded to be served.

“And then she said, ‘but I have a reservation!’” Claire imitated the loud, squawking voice of the customer. “Turns out she had a table reserved for that night… for three hours earlier! So I asked why she hadn’t shown up then, and she said her husband had been out with her car all day.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Hiro jumped in. “Yesterday, Ando and I got a call from a man who wanted us to mow his lawn for him. Can you believe that?”

“We told him no, of course,” Ando added.

“Although,” Hiro sighed, “that was the only call we got all day. Our business just isn’t in demand much anymore.”

“Well, maybe you guys should retire,” Peter suggested. “I’d say you’ve earned it.”

Claire involuntarily flinched. It was true–all her friends were now at or above the average retirement age. Hiro, though… it was so odd to think that time affected even him. Wasn’t he supposed to be able to control time? Why did it have to retain jurisdiction over him? As immature as it was, she didn’t want her friends to acknowledge that they were getting older. If everybody could just pretend that everything was staying the same, that they would all always be there, then maybe it would be enough to convince her, even for a moment, that none of them would ever leave her life.

“Maybe you could wait until Satoshi is grown up and let him take over the business,” she suggested. “How old is he now, anyway?”

“He just turned nine,” Ando informed her with a proud smile. “You should see how much he takes after his mother.”

“Oh, he takes after Kimiko?”

Ando nodded. “So I don’t think he’ll want to take over the Dial-a-Hero business even once he is old enough–which won’t be for quite a long time.”

“It’s unfortunate, but once we retire, our little business will have to come to an end,” Hiro agreed.

“Well, that doesn’t have to happen just yet,” Claire said, doing her best to present it as a casual remark and not a desperate plea for everyone to stop getting so damn old and, god, I’m going to end up alone one day, and– “You guys can keep working as long as you like.”

Peter shot Claire a raised-eyebrow look from across the table. No doubt he remembered their conversation from a few months ago. They hadn’t spoken much since then, and while Claire hoped he had reconsidered her proposal, she got the feeling he hadn’t. However, he said nothing and simply took  another sip of his glass of wine.

“I don’t know, retirement is pretty rewarding,” Matt put in. “It gives me more time to spend with Janice.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t have to happen yet,” Claire repeated, a little more forcefully this time. “Nobody here is that old! You’ve all got plenty of your lives left ahead of you!”

A couple seats over from her, Tracy raised an eyebrow. She was still very poised and dignified even now that she was growing older. She almost reminded Claire of a light-haired version of Angela.

“I appreciate the compliment, Claire, but we’re all over the hill now, so to speak,” she said. “None of us are getting any younger. And for someone who has a dangerous job like Hiro and Ando do…”

“…No, I’m with Claire,” Hiro decided. “I want to keep saving people for as long as possible.”

“Really?” Ando asked, looking a bit concerned. Hiro nodded; Ando sighed and squeezed Hiro’s hand. “Well, if you’re going to keep working, I guess I can’t let you do it alone.”

Claire smiled to herself as she took a sip of her tonic. It fizzled on her tongue, providing her with a brief spark of enjoyment even though the alcohol did nothing to her. She couldn’t stop her friends from getting older, but just keeping things how they were for as long as she could was a small victory.

-

Unfortunately, nothing ever stayed as it was for long. It was a lesson she had learned time and time again, and would long continue to do so, but it still stung every time she was forced to relearn it.

One spring, during a particularly cold and rainy spell, Claire got a call from Sandra’s nursing home telling her that Sandra had fallen ill. Claire held out hope for a while that her mother would recover, but as days turned to weeks and then to months, she realized that it wasn’t going to happen. Sandra was transferred to a hospital, where she remained for several long, difficult months before she eventually succumbed to her sickness. The time leading up to her death was extremely hard on Claire, especially since Lyle was out of town for the whole ordeal. Once she called his number intending to call him out for not being there to support her, but when he didn’t pick up, she hung up the phone without leaving a message. She couldn’t blame her brother for avoiding her. She wished she could have avoided being there too, gradually watching her mother’s health dwindle, but unlike Lyle, she had no excuse.

Claire was there at her mother’s deathbed, and held her hand as Sandra closed her eyes one last time. She had long wondered if it was better or worse to be there to see it when someone she loved died, and now that it finally happened, she still wasn’t sure. She didn’t think she ever would be.

Now that both her parents were gone, Claire clung even more desperately to those in her life who remained. She even grew more attached to her boss at work. He jokingly asked if she was angling for a promotion when she brought him a tray of cookies she’d baked for his birthday. She put on a smile and said that it wasn’t her intention, but she certainly wouldn’t be opposed to getting promoted. Her boss chuckled and said, “how about a raise instead?” She was pleasantly surprised to discover that he wasn’t joking. But a 3% raise, while she was grateful for it, didn’t solve her problems.

When she told her coworkers that her mother had died, they reacted with varying degrees of shock and sympathy. “What happened to her?” asked a young woman who must have been about the age Claire appeared to be.

“It was natural causes,” Claire said. “She just got sick, and then…”

She trailed off, shrugging, as she turned her attention to a container of plastic straws. She distracted herself by fidgeting with the straws while the other workers pestered her with questions. Someone asked how her dad was holding up, and she considered lying and making something up, but she decided to be honest and say that he was dead too. This garnered a new wave of sympathetic murmurs.

Claire appreciated that her coworkers cared for her struggle, but they didn’t understand what the problem really was. Most of them didn’t know how old she really was, so to them, the mere fact that her parents were dead was a tragedy in and of itself to them. While she was of course sad about losing them, that wasn’t really the tragedy of it all. Noah and Sandra had lived long, happy lives, and nobody could live forever–except for Claire. She could, and most likely would, live forever. That meant that she would never be reunited with her loved ones, whether that be in an afterlife or another life or simply a boundless void.

(Claire wasn’t sure if she considered herself religious. Growing up in Texas, she had certainly had Christianity forced upon her for most of her early life, but it was hard to decide for herself what to believe, if anything. She wanted there to be an afterlife, though; it was the only thought that provided her any real consolation when she thought of all the people she would outlive.)

Summer came in, bringing leaves to the trees and grass to the earth. It was good while it lasted, but come fall, it all faded away again. Everything always changed. Everything always ended, from seasons to lives. But Claire stayed the same as she’d always been, and always would be. Oddly enough, people at work never seemed to notice that she didn’t age. Then again, few people kept working at the restaurant long enough to catch on. Her boss was growing older too, and had started talking about handing the business down to her one day soon. Claire had no idea what constituted “soon” in this case. The length of time was such a relative thing.

-

More time went by. Children grew up, and adults edged ever closer to the eventual but inevitable end of their lives. Eventually Claire’s manager retired and she took over as manager at the restaurant. Initially she thought it was insane for her to be a business owner, but when she thought it over, she realized that she was perfectly qualified. She had decades of experience, after all; despite her appearance, she was nearly sixty years old now.

Having so much responsibility was thrilling, but before long, people stopped coming to the restaurant. Nobody trusted someone who looked like a college student to run a business. As profits dwindled, Claire scrambled for a solution. She lowered prices, introduced new menu items, and offered more specials. It took a while, but eventually business started to pick up again. The restaurant–her restaurant now–wouldn’t be closing its doors anytime soon. As a business owner, Claire did her best to pay her workers fairly. It meant she made less money overall than the previous owner, but she didn’t need that much money anyway. She had a good life, and without any pets or children to supply for, Claire found that she was making more money than she needed. She began donating more often to charities, and got in the habit of spending more money on gifts for people. She figured that if she was going to be alive forever, it would be best to at least make a positive impact on the world.

During the weeks leading up to Claire and Gretchen’s thirtieth anniversary, Claire pestered her wife with questions about what she wanted to do. As long as it was nothing too over-the-top, Claire could probably afford it, and she really wanted to make the occasion as special as possible for the both of them. However, Gretchen always said the same thing: thay she didn’t care what they did, as long as they got to spend the day together. In the end, they ended up staying at home that day. Claire took the day off from work, and they spent most of the afternoon snuggled up in bed together, reminiscing about the old days.

“Remember how I found out about your power?” Gretchen asked, absentmindedly fiddling with a lock of Claire’s hair. “When I looked out the window and saw you sitting there putting yourself back together, I knew I was in love with you.”

Claire wrinkled her nose, recalling the mortification she had felt under her then-roommate’s incredulous stare. “Really? That’s what made you fall for me?”

“I mean, I had it pretty bad for you before that,” Gretchen said with a laugh. “But it was at that moment when I thought to myself, ‘I want that woman to be my wife one day’.”

“Well, Gretch,” Claire said, squeezing her wife’s hand under the blanket, “I guess your wish came true.”

They both smiled, looking into each other’s eyes, and for a moment it was like no time at all had passed since that day. Then Gretchen wiped sweat from her brow and muttered, “Can we get out from under this blanket? I think I’m having a hot flash”, and the illusion of timelessness vanished quicker than Claire could smile and say, “Oh, yeah, that’s fine”.

So much time passed by, and Claire did her best to appreciate all of it as best she could, but it was so hard to enjoy life when she was faced with constant reminders of everybody getting older. With people her own age or older it was one thing, but even people younger than her looked noticeably older than her now. Lyle, Molly, and Micah were all middle-aged themselves now, and Matt Jr. was in his late thirties. One day he booked a reservation at the restaurant for himself and a woman who Claire was shocked to discover was his wife. Even Natalie Petrelli was a grown woman in her late twenties now, and Satoshi Masahashi was currently in his final year of college. And then all those people just kept getting older, and more mature, a second generation who Claire would outlive as surely as the first.

Claire came to hate calendars. She didn’t want to think about the passage of time. Instead, she covered her walls with framed photos of times she wanted to remember. Before long, her walls became cluttered with memories. She wondered what she would do when she ran out of room.

-

One Sunday evening, after a long day of errands, Claire flopped onto the living room sofa, exhausted. All day, people had been mistaking Gretchen for her mother. A couple of people had even thought she was her grandmother. That was a new one as far as Claire could remember, and she absolutely hated it. She especially hated the fact that the people who’d jumped to that conclusion had been completely justified in doing so. There was so much gray in Gretchen’s hair now, and she had so many wrinkles, and recently she was starting to complain about arthritis. The worst part was that Claire had nobody to turn to for comfort. When Gretchen herself tried to offer consolation, it just meant that Claire had to look into her wife’s eyes and see a sixty-four year old woman looking back at her. That only made things worse.

Unfortunately, Gretchen was persistent in her misguided attempts to help. She sat down on the arm of the sofa and started running her fingers through Claire’s hair, humming a sappy song under her breath. Claire didn’t bother telling Gretchen to go away. If she didn’t have to look up at her, then she could just pretend that her wife looked the same as always. Besides, even if it only made her feel worse, she still appreciated the effort. She didn’t want to punish Gretchen for loving her.

Later, when they were in bed together that night, Claire scrolled through her phone’s photo gallery. Some of the pictures there were decades old now. She was running out of storage again, meaning that soon she would have to delete some photos on order to make room for more. But she’d already gone through this process so many times that all the photos she had saved to her phone now were ones she valued. How could she choose between deleting a photo of her with the Petrellis and one of her adoptive family? She just wanted to keep them both forever, and the same went for all the other photos she had saved.

“You know, honey,” Gretchen remarked quietly as she watched over Claire’s shoulder, “I think maybe you should make some new friends.”

“What?” Claire screwed up her face, unsure of how to react to the puzzling comment. “I have plenty of friends.”

“I know, I know,” Gretchen sighed. “But… you’ve said it yourself, Claire, countless times. The people you’re friends with now aren’t going to be here forever. When they’re gone–when I’m gone–I don’t want you to be lonely.”

Claire stiffened. “Don’t talk about that.”

“Well, why not? You talk about it to me all the time,” Gretchen pointed out. “I don’t want to die any more than anybody else, but we’re all going to some day, and I don’t want you be left alone when that happens!”

Claire could hardly believe what her wife was saying. Putting her phone down on the headboard, she sat up and turned to glare at Gretchen.

“So you just want me to replace people?” she said. “Like getting a new dog to replace an old one? Is that what you want me to do for you–for everyone?”

“Well, no…”

“I can’t just replace people, Gretch! I can’t do that!”

“You don’t have to replace anyone,” Gretchen told her. “But you can’t just spend the rest of your life wallowing in self-pity, either, especially not if your life is going to last forever. An eternity alone? I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. And, Claire…” She gulped, placing a tender hand on Claire’s shoulder. Claire realized that there were tears forming in Gretchen’s eyes. “Claire, you’re my wife. I love you. I need you to be happy.”

Claire tried to force a smile, but her face refused to cooperate. All she could think of was how, with every passing moment, she had less and less time left to spend with the people she cared about. Time had already run out for some of those people. Who would be next? What would she do after everyone was gone? She couldn’t go on living after that, she just couldn’t. For a few years, maybe–a decade or two, even–but not forever. And growing close to new people, knowing that the exact same thing was eventually going to happen to them… she didn’t see how that could possibly help her. More people to care about was just more people to eventually lose. It didn’t matter if she made friends with every person on the planet, because not one of them was going to be there forever.

“I’m not saying you should forget about me, or anyone,” Gretchen went on. “But memories can’t be all you have. You need to let new people into your life.”

Claire massaged her temples. She was so tired of this circular argument. Neither of them could really understand where the other was coming from, and she hated arguing with her wife. It was better to just put the issue to rest and call it a night.

“You know what? You’re right,” she said. “I’m going to try to meet some new people.”

Gretchen smiled and leaned forward to kiss Claire on the forehead. “Good choice.”

-

The morning after their discussion, Claire was woken up by a flashing sound followed by heavy breathing and gasps of pain. Claire’s eyes snapped open and she sat up to see Hiro standing in her bedroom, clutching a gaping wound in his side. With his free arm, he clutched a mangled body that Claire was horrified to recognize as Ando. As she watched, Hiro sunk to his knees, letting out a moan.

“Holy shit,” she whispered as she scrambled out of bed and to the drawer where she kept her syringe. “What happened?”

“W-we got a call… someone was being mugged,” Hiro told her, his face contorted in pain, while she jabbed the syringe into her arm and drew out a sample of her blood. “The mugger had superstrength. I tried to teleport us away, but my… my back went out, and…”

“Well, don’t worry. You’re going to be okay,” Claire said. She took Hiro’s arm and injected her blood into the first vein she could find. “You’ll both be fine.”

As the blood took effect, Hiro’s injury began to close up. He blinked gratefully at Claire while she drew another sample of her blood and prepared to administer it. Although Claire’s heart was hammering with anxiety, she tried to calm herself down. As she administered the second blood sample to Ando, she told herself that everything was going to be fine in a minute. She tried not to think that this was her fault. It didn’t matter that this wouldn’t have happened had she not talked them out of retiring a couple years earlier, because it was going to turn out fine either way. Hiro already didn’t have a scratch on him. It would be like nothing had even happened.

But something was wrong. Ando’s wounds weren’t healing up. Why wasn’t Claire’s blood working on him? As Hiro’s anxiously stroked his motionless friend’s thinning, graying hair, Claire noticed that there was a large, jagged rock jabbed into the back of Ando’s head. Shuddering, Claire yanked the rock out and held it up.

“How did this happen?” she asked Hiro.

Hiro shook his head, eyes wide with dismay. “I didn’t… I don’t know.”

“Well, now that that’s out of his head, my blood should work,” Claire said. She wasn’t even sure how much she believed herself. A few seconds creeped by, and then a few more. Nothing happened. “M-maybe I can give him some more blood.”

She tried this, but once again, nothing happened. Hiro kept glancing up at Claire, then back down at Ando, and then back to Claire. There was an increasing volume of desperation in his eyes. Claire’s throat constricted as she took a shaky step back and shook her head. Her voice caught in her throat as she reached an awful conclusion.

“Hiro, there’s… there’s nothing I can do.”

“No,” Hiro whimpered, his arms curling tighter around his friend’s sickeningly contorted body. Scraggly gray hairs framed his weathered, tearstained face. He’d never looked more frail. “No, you have to save him…”

“Claire?” Gretchen, who up until that point had remained soundly asleep, sat up on bed and rubbed her eyes. “Baby, what’s going on?”

Claire cursed under her breath. She didn’t want her wife to see such an upsetting thing. Gretchen was so easily disturbed sometimes.

“Go back to bed, honey,” she called over her shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

Gretchen blinked, stunned, at the scene before her. “What–?!”

“Just look away,” Claire told her urgently, rushing over to Gretchen and holding a protective hand over her eyes. “You don’t want to see this.”

Claire’s head swam with guilt. She should have just let them retire all those years ago, and they would be safe now, and this wouldn’t have happened. Ando was dead because of her selfishness. Hiro must have absolutely despised her now. She’d done this, it was her fault, one of her friends was dead and it was her own goddamn fault–

“Claire, what happened?” Gretchen demanded, dragging Claire’s hand away. “Is that…?”

“Gretchen, please,” Claire said, trying her best not to cry. She didn’t deserve the chance to cry for something that was her fault. “You don’t want to see it. Please.”

She heard the flashing sound again, and when she turned to look behind her, Hiro was gone.

He didn’t speak to her again for a long time.

[vehementdaze]

Grief manifests

In sudden places, like rain in a desert sky

Heartbreak had ruled my world until I hit rock bottom and my father pulled me out of it by a yank of my arm.

Love had found me and essentially broke me down, and that brought me to an ultimate low. My father, Sergio, had to pay off a girl’s family when I had fought her in a club during the family’s vacation. I was arrested, and it took months for the charge to fall off my name as the family purposely didn’t want to settle.

It was possible that the girl’s family was exaggerating the issues when she had brought it upon herself, in my opinion. The fight happened during the summer her heart was broken. When her friend finally happened across a man she was interested in, another girl was constantly attempting to get between them. Quite literally.

My irritation with the girl grew with every attempt made. Until I finally snapped and threw a punch at the girl one night.

Sergio rambled for hours on end that I had to grow up and invest in the family business. Or I was going to have to wander off, party and get into trouble on her own. The latter meaning he wasn’t going to the rescue any longer.

That’s when I decided to dive into the business with him.

Immediate downpour from a blue span:

For years, the family had been producing cocaine in Mexico. It was safer than production in the States, also less expensive to a degree. The warehouse where it was produced and the ship it was boarded in to get to Cali was connected. Both under a fake name that was meant for my mother; sure, enough digging would bring my mother down, but no one cared about that. Not even my mom.

I attended many business meetings. Sergio assigned all business dealings with Cuba over to me. Cuba was mine, and I was in charge of production.

Over time, the realization came that production was not enough if the business was going to grow. I needed to purchase another warehouse on the island to increase the production and the sells of their cocaine. However, my father wouldn’t let me.

No, Sergio insisted on making a deal with another family. This other family, the Castillo’s, wanted millions of dollars in exchange for their cocaine that was 80 percent purity. I was against the deal. However, the underlying agreement was that the Busquets could not have any other cocaine except for the Castillo’s.

Strong enough to carve boulders in two,

The agreement made with the Castillo Family caused arguments with myself and Sergio. I knew it was a bad idea to converse with that family as they want their cocaine to be the only supply we were leaning on. But that was never going to be the case. Sergio had no plans of stopping production. He needed more; maybe that was his flaw, his greed.

“God, you are so stupid!” I shouted at my father from across the way of the foyer. Sergio entered the mansion a moment prior; he had been out on business that called for meeting with the head of the Castillo’s. “I hope you told them we are retracting the agreement!” I exclaimed the words. High heels clicking against the marble floors with each step I took to my father.

I was visiting my parents’ home. I knew Sergio had been out, having told me he didn’t want me along for the meeting. I spent the time with my mother, Emilia.

The two of us were mostly civil for a mother and daughter pair that did not have much in common. Emilia was stuck in a marriage with a man she never loved. She was a gold digger, only wanting Sergio for his money. When she had found out she was pregnant with me, the woman stayed and married him because she knew the kind of lifestyle both her and her child could have. But then she cheated a couple years after I was born. That was when Jocelyn came along.

While he had taken care of Jocelyn, Sergio certainly favored me; Emilia favoring Jocelyn. And, for the most part, that was okay. Jocelyn had a better childhood as the parents made sure to never fight in front of her. Emilia seemed to care for Joce more, and that, along with me being the only true child of Sergio, allowed her to slip under their noses a lot while the kids grew up.

Emilia quickly followed me from the kitchen to the foyer where I was yelling at my father. “Camilla,” the woman spoke in a soft voice. Footsteps halting when I stopped several feet shy of Sergio, Emilia standing less than a foot behind me.

“I should have never gave you Mexico,” Sergio huffed, shaking just head as he voiced his regrets to his child. The dress shoes he wore sounded against the floor as he moved towards the staircase. “You’re going to screw up the whole business, our whole fucking name when you’re in charge! Go sit back at the table in there and let your mother feed you. I’ll handle the business.”

It was an insult for being a child. Also a reason I disliked my father. “Camilla, honey. Calm down and let’s go out,” my mother piped up as Sergio gestured to the two of us with a swift wave of his hand before he turned and headed up the staircase. I was speechless, unsure of what to say next. After all, I was a disappointment to him.

I had backed down to my father then, leaving the home with my mother. We went shopping at the local mall. My eyebrows remained furrowed as my frustration over the entire Mexico and cocaine ordeal was still there, lingering within me. Emilia catching onto that after the second store they visited. She turning to me, reaching a hand up to soothingly rub over my bicep. The action earning her a glare. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this shit with you either,” I snapped. The pressure my parents were putting on me finally was getting to me.

“Why are you here? Why are you pretending to love me, pretending you’re happy?” I swiftly spun around to exclaim at her. Frustration leaking from me. “You married your fucking sugar daddy and you want me to calm down over /actual/ business? Have you even worked a day in your life? And I don’t mean lying on your fucking back!”

Without another word, I left her standing there speechless in the middle of the mall. Other people were staring but I couldn’t care; I was leaving, retrieving my cell phone to call for a driver to pick me up.

Cactus choking down water, drenched spines drowner’s arms

No changes were made in Mexico. While I stayed in California, my cousin stayed behind to ensure production ran smoothly. Vanessa, the cousin, wasn’t even made aware of the agreement with another family when the warehouse was ambushed.

The meeting Sergio had a week prior? That meeting was the acknowledgment of Mexico continuing production. Sergio was told to cut it off; there was a threat, but it was unknown. That is until the warehouse was raided. Vanessa was mildlyinjured, as well as several other workers. Five lives were lost, all because of greed.

“We cannot stop! We need the coke,” Sergio spoke in a firm tone. Turning to his niece, he pressed on a soft smile. Vanessa had several cuts and bruises from the raid but she still gave the man a decent smile, which made his tone soften for her. “Replace the lost workers. Continue on.”

“Are you serious?” I exclaimed. For months, Mexico and cocaine was on my plate, making me crazy. That frustration continued to boil inside of me. “Do you really think no more lives are going to be lost?” My heart ached for those families that had now lost someone they loved.

The older man shook his head in disapproval, even releasing a humorless chuckle. “Hopefully you will learn from all this. Sometimes loss is necessary.”

And that? That was all I needed to hear from him. I wasn’t even sure of who the man was anymore. Was that really my father?

The sunlight. Over.

Weeks had gone by before anything happened. Cocaine continued to flow from Mexico to South Cali, Sergio was a cocky shit, my mother bought me gifts in an effort to get my attention. Emilia only wanted to show affection to me when Jocelyn wasn’t around. And, while my sister deserved all the love the world had to offer, I never wanted to fill that void. And I felt that I never really could.

Weeks passed until it happened.

They owned a home on the island, many miles away from the warehouse. It was a small town version of the vacation home in Florida. Emilia strode through the foyer, the front door being left wide open as she made her way to the kitchen. “Camilla, honey!” She called out.

It was breakfast; my father and I silently eating eggs and bacon at the counter of the island bar. Both turned our hazel eyes onto the woman entering. Emilia had a brilliant smile over her lips. “Come see who I have found! You will never guess!” Excitement was written clear as day across her features.

We were visiting for a couple days to spend time with the other members of the family that lived on the island. Emilia was almost always clueless when it came to how important safety was to us, especially when someone was out for our heads. My father and I exchanged confused looks before we abandoned the food to follow the woman into the foyer.

“I went to school with Kimberly. She moved out here years ago and I just ran into her at the fish market!” Emilia squealed with so much excitement. My eyebrows furrowed. It had been so long since I had seen such enthusiasm from my mother for anything than wasn’t clothing or shoes. “She—”

It was all the woman got out. I stepped forward, entering the small area of the foyer; Sergio two steps behind me. At that same instant, the sound of a gun going off was heard. Emilia made an attempt to spin around and face us when she tried to speak again. Only that one word left her before she collapsed. The bullet piercing her forehead and colliding with a picture hanging on the wall a couple feet from where I stood. The glass covering the photo cracked with the impact of the bullet.

I couldn’t process anything. Everything happened in slow motion. There was someone standing in the threshold of the entrance of the home but, before I could tear her gaze away from my mother, the person was gone. Sergio was the first to react, pushing me a step over to rush passed me. It was his attempt to run after the culprit.

My focus was on my mother after that split second of a lifted gaze. Emilia was beautiful, certainly my sister and I had gotten their beauty from her. She was in her late forties with no grays, no sign of wrinkles forming. But now? Emilia’s forehead had a hole, blood continuously flowing from the wound. I knew there was nothing that could be done. Maybe that was why I was frozen, standing there. Watching her only existence left to the world pour from her injury.

Tears welled in my eyes. My father did this... His greed killed her. And, while I didn’t always get along with the woman, while I craved a completely different lifestyle than her, I still loved her. And I watched her take her last breath, say her last words.

Moisture sucked already into forgetful earth.

She was dead.

The pain of it didn’t register. My entire body was numb to it. I wasn’t even sure if I was blinking. Was it all a daze? Was it even real?

[kaytewrites]

the quick release || masquerada: songs and shadows || chapter 2

also on ao3!

The next week passes like this:

Tristan wakes in the morning, generally to one of the Sorelle (most often Kalden) nudging him awake with a bowl of light, bland oatmeal. He eats as much of it as he can stomach (not a lot) and makes polite conversation as they check in with him (he’s making steady progress, they tell him, but he can’t leave quite yet) and tries to smother his stutter as best he can.

When they leave, he quietly summons his mascherine. Sometimes, he just looks at it, smoothing his hand over its surface and wondering: who were you? Did you ask for this? Will I ever speak to you properly?

Sometimes, though, he puts it on and thinks of ice, of water, of cold and time.

The first time he tries it, he damn near almost gives himself a heart attack with the panic that floods him, the memories of falling and ice and pain that make his missing limb spasm and ache without relief. Kalden finds him not an hour later, biting his lip bloody to keep from yelling and alerting anyone.

Kalden eases him down from his panic, guiding him to “Breathe, Tristan. Easy now. Breathe with me.” until he didn’t feel like the world was collapsing and his arm didn’t feel like it was being cut off all over again. Kalden looks at the mascherine on his face with a soft accusation, and warns him against using it until he feels better.

He keeps using it, simply because it’s the only thing that makes him feel like he’s at least doing something . He just makes sure he keeps quiet.

In the afternoons, he gets a visit from Vasco - never longer than an hour, but never shorter, either. Vasco doesn’t make him speak, but engages him in idle conversation. Whenever Tristan has a question or a response, Vasco makes him say it. It’s infuriating, but it’s an effective enough speech trainer. Sometimes, he’ll make him repeat himself, making Tristan irritable, but even he’s surprised by the progress he’s made in a week’s time.

One day, Vasco is an hour late for their meeting; they’ve never set a time, but Vasco always appeared around the same time everyday. Tristan sneaks a glance at the clock, confirming the thought.

So, Tristan holds his hand out in his lap, thinks about waves, and feels his mascherine settle in his palm. He’s always loved the thing, the bright red and silver lines edged in gold. He grips it tight, feels the material of it flex in his hand, and lifts it to his face -

- Ice, and cold, and fire, and he isn’t sure how the fire fits until he feels his arm burn white-hot-painful under the maskrunner’s steel, and his head is already fuzzy-hot with static and pain, but he can’t stop, he can’t stop, he’s falling to his knees but he needs to keep moving, Cicero needs him, the Citte needs him, the Citte-

“Tristan!”

There’s a hand on his shoulder, the one missing its arm, and he focuses on the weight, feeling his heartbeat in his throat.

“Tristan, can you hear me?” He’s shaking too hard to nod properly, but he thinks they understand because they don’t repeat the question. There’s a blur of purple movement on his right side, a smear that coalesces into a human form that eventually becomes Vasco. “Breathe, Tristan. Can’t have you dying on me now.”

He would laugh, if he didn’t feel like that is exactly what’s happening. He grips his left hand tight, hard enough his fingernails bite half-moon crescents into the skin of his palm.

“V-v-v-v-v-” He tries, but the words won’t come out right, and he can barely breathe as is.

“Don’t try to speak. Just breathe, Delzole. In and out, that’s it.” Vasco doesn’t touch him beyond the hand on his shoulder, and he doesn’t know whether to be grateful or to weep.

Eventually, the shuddering breaths subside, and Tristan lets his fist unclench, wincing at the blood that wells in each of the little cuts. Vasco tutts lightly, his hand moving from his shoulder to grab Tristan’s own. Regret fills him at the loss of contact, but he bites it back - the less he feels right now, the better. Vasco’s flautist’s fingers examine his palm carefully, clinically, grabbing a cloth from a drawer in the bedside table and wiping away the little red specks with a gentle hand.

“Now, what brought that on?” Vasco asks softly, his voice sounding a beat away from a laugh but no less genuine in its concern.

Tristan takes a moment to breathe again, and then another, and finally speaks. “T-the w-w-water is not always k-k-kind.” He can’t quite meet the other man’s eyes, and so he settles for watching his hands instead.

Vasco does laugh, a soft huff of a thing. “I suppose not, hm, Valencio? You’d know better than most.” He sees Vasco’s fingers twitch towards his mascherine, a half-aborted movement caught too late.

Tristan’s hand moves to his face, the mask that still rests there. “W-will I ev-v-ver u-use this ag-gain?” He pulls the mask from his face gently, stroking the red inlay with his thumb. His voice is far more sad than he’d like. He doesn’t want to give Vasco any more fuel for his backhanded comments and petty jabs.

Instead of responding, Vasco simply summons his own mascherine to bear, letting it rests in his hands. Purple and red play within golden borders, making swooping lines and deep impressions in the mask itself. It’s a playful mask, one suited to a man like Vasco, and it makes Tristan’s mouth sour with regret.

“I still don’t know her name,” he says. His voice is dangerously soft, filled with a vulnerability Tristan doesn’t think he deserves to hear, but Vasco keeps speaking. “I don’t know if I ever will. Maybe she doesn’t know it, either.” He looks up at Tristan, and Tristan finds his eyes inexorably drawn towards Vasco’s, as well. “Everything doesn’t become suddenly clear because we’ve Salted. It just means we have another set of memories in our heads. Incomplete, fallible, and just as human as the men who hold them.”

Vasco’s mouth cracks into a smile. “I know, surprisingly deep for a man of so many jests. Feel free to hold your applause.”

Tristan smiles despite himself, the panic in his chest almost forgotten. “N-not that surprising, Tessit-t-tore.”

“I’ll have you know I spend a lot of time cultivating my happy-go-lucky attitude, thank you, and I’ll not have you squander all that hard w-work.” He points threateningly at Tristan, but there’s no heat in his words.

Tristan laughs, bright and clear. He’s glad he hasn’t forgotten how to do that, at least. Vasco pouts for a few seconds longer before dismissing his mascherine with a smile. Tristan does the same, letting it fade to a shimmer in the air.

“I wonder where they go when we aren’t using them,” Vasco wonders aloud, and Tristan shrugs. “Do you think the fey would know?” Another shrug. “Gah, you’re useless.” And another.

Vasco finally gives up on trying to get Tristan to speak again. Honestly, he’s feeling exhausted by the whole ordeal. He already can’t sleep at night. He doesn’t want his nightmares chasing into his waking hours, and if that means never using his mascherine again - never using any mascherine again -

Well. He’ll handle that when the time comes.

Vasco flops backwards on the bed, laying horizontal on the foot of it, his feet still touching the ground. He’s more lax around Tristan than he’s ever been before, and Tristan can’t say he minds it.

“Have you spoken to Cicero about it?”

Tristan shakes his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

Tristan looks down at his hand again. “I d-d-don’t s-see him of-t-ten.” It’s easier to say than I don’t deserve to see him.

“If you asked for him, he’d come.”

Tristan shakes his head. “Don’t want t-to bo-bother him.”

Vasco sighs. “You’re both idiots, then.”

Tristan jabs Vasco in the side with his toes. He winces and glares up at Tristan. “I’m not wrong! Y-you’re both doing nothing but moping around. Very sad, really.”

Tristan just sighs. Vasco does the same.

He spends the rest of his time answering Vasco’s inane questions (”What’s your favorite color?” “B-blue.” “What’s your favorite drink?” “Lemonade.” “What’s your-”) before Vasco hops up from his reclined position and darts out of the door with barely a goodbye.

Tristan doesn’t have it in him to be mad. He’s already half-asleep, anyway. He stays awake long enough to drink a few spoonfuls of the broth the Sorelle nurse brings him for dinner before falling asleep. He dreams of a cathedral, impossibly large, and of a sea dark as night, filled with stars.

The next day he wakes, it’s to a hushed argument in low tones outside of his door. He wakes almost irritable at the intrusion, sure it’s far too early to be woken, but a glance at the clock on the wall tells him he’s actually slept in much later than he usually does. He rubs at his eyes and catches snippets of the conversation that drift through the door.

“-should talk to him, Cicero.” That’s Kalden’s warm rumble, barely perceptible through the door for its baritone depth.

“And say what? That I’m glad he almost died for me? That he’s another person who had to sacrifice himself for me, just so I could-”

“Cicero.”

“It’s true, Kalden, no matter what you say, alright? I don’t think - I don’t think he wants to see me, anyway.” Cicero sounds hurt when he says it, and Tristan is half a second away from calling out for him before Kalden speaks again.

“We’ve had this discussion a thousand times, Cicero, and I’ll always tell you the same thing: we followed you because you are worth following, Cicero. We could never leave you behind. We all knew what we were getting into.”

There’s a moment of silence then, and when Cicero speaks, his voice sounds muffled, as if pressed against cloth. “Thank you, Kalden. You’re too good for me.”

A chuckle. “You’re right, I am.”

Cicero’s voice sounds mock-hurt through the door. “You rude oaf! I ought to-”

He’s cut off suddenly. Kalden is the next to speak, and his voice sounds rougher, deeper, just barely audible through the door. “Doesn’t mean I won’t stay by your side.”

There’s an exchange of words he can’t hear, and then the click of the door. He’s just quick enough to pretend to still be waking, scrubbing at his eyes with his hand again and shoving himself upright.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Cicero seems to barely hold back a laugh as he enters, Kalden just a step behind him. Cicero moves toward the chair on his left, almost unsure, before Tristan sighs and pats it with a grin. “How are you?” he says as he settles into it.

“Fine, I th-think.” Tristan shrugs. “Hav-ven’t died y-yet, so I m-m-must be doing someth-th-thing right.”

Kalden settles on the only other bed in the room, just behind and to the right of Cicero. “Good. You seem to be recovering steadily, as well. I think you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Maybe within the week, if all goes well.”

Tristan nods, pleased to hear it. His recovery from Salting has mostly been mental; most of the bedrest has been from being encased in ice for the better part of a month. He can feel his strength return in strides, though he’s not excited about the prospect of limping around like an invalid for a few months while he remembers how to walk again.

“Tristan…” Cicero starts, and there’s something in his voice that makes him think this conversation won’t be quite as easy as he was hoping. Still, he knew it was coming. It had to happen sooner or later.

“Y-yes, Cicero?” He does his best to sound fondly exasperated.

Cicero gives him a weak little half-smile, but it fades as he continues. “I don’t think we ever really talked about what happened, did we?”

Tristan remembers a quick, uncomfortable conversation made in the rush of impending battle, remembers setting aside his feelings about duty and honor to try and mend what he could between their broken trust, remembers hugging Cicero tightly with both arms and promising to have his back ‘just like old times.’ It was what they needed to get through the night, one neither of them thought they’d both truly survive.

Tristan sighs deeply, leaning against the pillows piled behind him. “N-n-not much to s-say, Cicero.”

“That’s a lie, Tristan, and we both know it.”

“Is it?” he counters. “We b-both know t-t-too much has happened. I don’t regret w-w-what I did. Neither should y-you.”

Cicero is silent for a long moment. “I wish it could be easier.”

Tristan grins. “N-nothing easy is ever w-w-worth it.”

He’s suddenly reminded of what Vasco told him a week before: ‘ He died. I wouldn’t joke about that. ’

Cicero must notice his change in demeanor, because it’s not but a few moments later that he’s asking, “What’s wrong, old friend?”

“Vasco t-told me s-something.” He doesn’t know a delicate way to say it, so he doesn’t try. “D-did you really die, Cicero?”

Cicero pales, and Tristan knows instantly it was the wrong thing to say. Kalden, instead, speaks for him. “He did, yes. We’re not sure why or how he’s back, but he is. We think it was fey.” He lists it off like a grocery list, and Tristan nods.

He also notices the way Cicero’s hand seemingly absently searches out Kalden’s own, and Kalden takes it without even looking down. He files that away as a question for another day - he’s already asked enough.

“G-guess that’s another t-thing we have in com-m-mon now, eh, Cicero?” He says, nudging him with his elbow. Cicero breaks out of his reverie and laughs a little, just once. Not perfect, but better.

“I suppose so.” He flashes Tristan a smile. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure Vasco will be here soon, and he’ll probably yell at me again about interrupting ‘very important tutelage of the h-highest calibre.’”

Tristan nods. “And I’m sure the h-hero of Ombre has pl-plenty of duties to attend, hims-s-self.” He waves his hand at the door, shooing them out. “Go on, out of h-here.”

Cicero is laughing as he leaves, giving Tristan a wave. His other hand is still holding Kalden’s as he leaves.

Vasco shows up at his normal time an hour later, and if he notices that Tristan is more quiet than usual, he doesn’t comment on it.

[captaindeadpoet]

Makeup Senpai

A/N: Hello, everyone! So, this fic is dedicated to the amazing @topbananapuff , who always endures my Iwashimizu wearing makeup headcannons and said 'wtf bro Ebumi wears it, too.' Enjoy

Summary: Iwashimizu loves wearing makeup, but he needs a little help. Good thing Ebumi's around.

Iwashimizu stood awkwardly by his locker, hands clasped together and eyes downcast. Most of the team had already headed home for the day, eager to take real showers and eat at home. However, Iwashimizu couldn’t leave yet. He had a mission to complete.

If he could muster up the courage to even start it, that is.

A loud bang sounded from the other side of the locker room, making Iwashimizu wince. So, Ebumi was still here. Iwashimizu still had time to ask him. But his body just wouldn’t move; his feet felt like lead and his body felt like his blood had been replaced with sand. The opportunity to reach out to Ebumi was slipping away with each passing moment.

Somehow, Iwashimizu managed to drag himself toward the sound of Ebumi’s laughter and general chaotic noise. He stopped at the end of the row of lockers and stared for a moment. Ebumi would hate him if he asked. What if Iwashimizu had just imagined the whole ordeal? Then he would ask a ridiculous favor and Ebumi might never be able to forgive him for being so stupid.

“Oi, jolly green giant. You need something?”

Ebumi’s voice sliced through every thought in Iwashimizu’s mind. A blush rose to the blonde’s cheeks. He had Ebumi’s attention. If he asked now, it would all be over with and he could go home.

“E-Ebumi-san -” Iwashimizu stuttered out.

“Nah, none of that formal bullshit. Just tell me what’s up.” Ebumi said.

“I-I was wonder i-if m-maybe you c-could, uhm, i-if you could…”

“Spit it out, skyscraper.”

“T-Tell me how your makeup stays so nice!”

Ebumi cocked an eyebrow at the blushing first year. He knew he had a reputation for being kind of a delinquent jackass, so this had probably taken every ounce of the kid’s courage. Scanning Iwashimizu’s face, Ebumi took note of the nearly perfect eyeliner wings on the blonde’s eyelids and the clumped mascara on his lashes. A shame, really - Iwashimizu had such long, beautiful eyelashes already. Ebumi was jealous.

“What are you talking about?” Ebumi asking, hoping for more details.

Iwashimizu looked down. “W-Well, your makeup never runs during games or practices. A-And it always looks so smooth, like you just applied it.”

Ebumi preened at the compliments. “Of course. I’m the shit. My makeup is fucking fantastic all the time.”

“C-Could you teach me?”

If it were any other first year, Ebumi would have told them to fuck off and die. Yet, when he looked at Iwashimizu, with his soft voice and kind eyes and general brightness, he couldn’t say no. The blonde needed confidence and goddamn it, Ebumi was going to make him looks so good, Iwashimizu would have no choice but to be a sexy badass.

“Show me what you use. Come on, whip it out, let’s go.” Ebumi commanded.

Iwashimizu’s face lit up. “Th-Thank you, Ebumi! Uhm, let me just find my case.”

Ebumi waited. He watched Iwashimizu dig around in his backpack and fish out a little floral patterned makeup bag. He had to admit that with how shy Iwashimizu was, he had expected a plain black case. Apparently the giant was full of surprises. Iwashimizu handed to pouch to the winger.

The contents were absolutely pitiful. Cheap eyeliner and mascara, the worst matched shade of foundation Ebumi had ever seen, and a few tubes of chapstick and lip gloss that were old and dried out. How was Iwashimizu even surviving? Ebumi was so goddamn high maintenance that he wouldn’t let anything that cost less than 1400 yen touch his face.

“This is all trash. Who even uses pencil eyeliner anymore? And this foundation doesn’t match your skin. This fucking lip gloss is so old they don’t even make this brand anymore. What the fuck, Iwashi?” Ebumi ranted.

Iwashimizu curled in on himself. “Sorry, Ebumi. I-I can’t buy it very easily. People look at me weird when I try.”

“Then fuck ‘em. Here, I’ve got extra stuff. I’ll give you real makeup and half your problems will disappear. You like that natural pink color for the lips, right?”

“Oh, no, Ebumi! Please don’t give up your things!”

Ebumi laughed. “Quit worrying so damn much. Ise keeps buying me this shit to woo me. It’s working but I ain’t going to tell him that. So it’s fine. Now, do you like natural pink or not?”

Iwashimizu nodded shyly. “I like them to be light and shiny.”

“Figures. You like the shojo manga heroine look. You do that for yourself or to impress someone?”

“Uh, well, I like the way I look, so I guess myself. But -”

“It’s the little fucknut who’s trying to be a winger, isn’t it? God, don’t do your makeup for that fucking shithead. You wanna look pretty? Look pretty. Do it for you.”

“I do. But sometimes I add a little extra to...nevermind. It’s so silly.”

“What’s fucking silly is that you don’t have any glittery eyeshadows when I know for a fact you like glitter. You got twenty of those goddamn glitter pens in your bag right now. I’ve got some of that, too, and you can have it.”

“Thank you.”

Ebumi ignored the gratitude, reaching into his own backpack to find his makeup case. It wasn’t difficult; the thing was bright pink with ‘TASTY BITCH’ written on it. Opening up the pouch, Ebumi pulled out all the essentials: liquid eyeliner, mascara, lip gloss and lip pencils, foundation, eyeshadow. He decided against blush. Iwashimizu blushed so much that he didn’t need it.

“Take them. Dump the other shit. This is all waterproof, so it’ll stay on in a fucking flood. Now, open your eyes so I can teach you how to put on mascara.” Ebumi ordered.

Iwashimizu obeyed. Ebumi began slowly rolling the mascara on, carefully flicking the brush at the end of the lashes to create a sharp point. He smirked when Iwashimizu gasped in amazement. God, the kid really needed to gain some standards. Any middle school girl could do this in two seconds.

It was then that Ebumi realized that Iwashimizu wasn’t like him. Iwashimizu didn’t have the confidence to storm into a makeup shop and demand that the stylists teach him. He probably couldn’t ask his mom for help and the girls at school would probably laugh at him. Iwashimizu had taught himself. No wonder the blonde was so excited; it was like finally having a mentor.

“Pucker up. Lips next.” Ebumi said.

Picking up the lip pencil, Ebumi carefully traced Iwashimizu’s lips. Goddamn this boy was lucky - his lips were soft and pouty. Ebumi dabbed a bit of lip gloss on to finish up the look.

“There. You’re fucking fab, Iwashi.” Ebumi said.

“Thank you. It feels...different. Not in a bad way, of course! It’s just -” Iwashimizu said.

“It’s okay. I used to use crappy makeup, too, before I realized that it fucked up my skin. It’s different, but you like it, right?”

“Oh, yes! I love it!”

“Great. Show me how to do the eyeliner wings. I can never get them right, and I’m pretty sure Ise tired of my bitching about it.”

“O-Oh. Okay. See, you just have to trace and fill. Like this.”

Iwashimizu placed a gentle hand beneath Ebumi’s chin, tilting his head up to get a better angle to apply the eyeliner. Hands unusually steady, Iwashimizu drew a perfect line across Ebumi’s eyelid and drew a small curve to the side and brought it back down. He filled in the space and started on the other eye. Once he finished, he offered Ebumi his compact to examine the work. Ebumi let out a loud laugh, startling Iwashimizu.

“You amazing bitch! I look like a goddamn model! Thanks.” Ebumi said, slapping Iwashimizu on the back.

“I’m happy to help. Thank you for helping me.” Iwashimizu said softly.

“We should probably get the hell out of here. I bet the little fucknut’s waiting for you.”

Iwashimizu giggled, and Ebumi wondered how Gion hadn’t already made a move. Gathering his things, Ebumi followed Iwashimizu out of the locker room. Sure enough, Gion was waiting outside the entrance, sitting on the ground and drawing in the dirt. Iwashimizu gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder.

“I was wondering if you were ever coming out, Udo. I’ve been waiting forever.” Gion said, getting to his feet and dusting off his pants.

“I’m sorry. Ebumi and I were talking.” Iwashimizu said.

Gion made an unimpressed face and looked at Iwashimizu, search the taller boy’s eyes for a lie. Instead, he noticed how big Iwashimizu’s eyes seemed and how...well, Gion couldn’t describe it. He just knew it made his stomach twist and his heart beat weirdly.

“What’s up with your face? It’s weird.” Gion blurted.

Iwashimizu’s cheeks burned red, his eyes downcast. Ebumi growled and marched over to the shorter boy, grabbing his ear. Gion shouted and began to slap at him.

“Give us a sec, Iwashi. Gion forgot something in the locker room.” Ebumi gritted out.

Ebumi dragged Gion into the locker room and slapped him in the back of the head. And then he did it again. And then one more time for good measure. Gion rubbed the now sore spot and glared at Ebumi.

“What the hell?” Gion snapped.

“What the fuck was that? ‘It’s weird’ - I should cut off your fucking dick, you dumb shit. Why would you say that to Iwashimizu?” Ebumi hissed.

“Because that’s how it made me feel!”

“Well, I hope you’re feeling fucking pretty now because you’re going to walk out there and tell Iwashimizu how fucking pretty he looks. You’re going to say ‘wow, Iwashi, your eyes really pop today’ and ‘geez, your lips are so shiny’ and ‘holy shit, your hair looks amazing.’”

“Why would I say that? It would make Iwashi uncomfortable.”

“God, you’re a fucking dumbass. Just listen to your smart as hell senpai and tell the giant he’s pretty, okay? Shit.”

“But -”

Ebumi slapped Gion upside the head once more. The brunette scowled, but relented. After agreeing to follow Ebumi’s orders, Gion wandered back outside and stood awkwardly next to Iwashimizu. The blonde looked a bit sad; maybe Gion had really hurt him.

“Hey, Iwashimizu.” Gion said.

“Y-Yes, Gion-kun?” Iwashimizu asked worriedly.

“You look pretty today.”

Iwashimizu blushed, tucking his hair behind his ear shyly. “Thank you.”

“You wanna get something to eat on the way home?”

“Uhm, sure! McDonald’s?”

Gion became flustered. “Sure.”

Ebumi smirked as he watched the two walk away. It was official; he was the best senpai ever. He just hoped the little fucknut wouldn’t fuck it all up. He didn’t want to have to cut the shorty’s dick off; that would definitely make Iwashimizu upset.

[btspornfavor-blog]

A Detrimental Passion

Part IV || Part I | Part II | Part III

It was like the strike of the match, catching the side of the box but not quite lighting, only just giving off a tiny spark. 

A/N: This is long asf and I apologize if its not very good... 

                                                              --Week 3--

Today of all days.

As if Jin wasn’t already running late, the weather decided to take a turn for the worst and now it was pissing down the rain.  Not that he spent a ridiculous amount of time on grooming, because lets be honest, even on his worst day he managed to look like he stumbled graciously off Gucci’s F/W runway show.  And never once has he been tired of it. But the last thing he needed was the possibility of this day even going south. He spent months researching and preparing for this presentation, it needed to go well, it needed to go smoothly… it didn’t need him in damp clothing and rain matted hair standing in front of roughly 500 students, who were all equally rich and snobby as one another, although by the way they acted you’d never suspect any of them would be on the same planet.

'He got his sweater wet… can you believe?  My mom almost cried when I let my vicuna sweater get one droplet of water on it… I just insisted that if it was as ruined as she said it was, she could buy me a new one.’

He rolled his eyes at the fictional conversation playing out in his head, one girl whispering to another. Besides, this sweater was just cashmere… not vicuna. As if they’d actually know the difference anyways.  Grabbing an umbrella, he looked in the decorative mirror next to his front door, admiring his perfect appearance before it had the chance to be ruined. He clutched his backpack to the front of his body, bracing himself as he traveled down the hallway, down the stairs, and out into this shit-show type weather.

Why did he have to choose to live “close to the university, only in walking distance”.  The campus was large and spread out, and yes, he may be close to the buildings where his classes are, but his presentation wasn’t for his classes.  It was for much younger students.  He didn’t have much of a choice whether to present or not, and he kept a tight schedule due to working and school and wasn’t the type to break plans, especially when they came to academics.  Due to his major and his continuation onto med school, his internships and practicums and opportunities off campus came with the price of: spending all of his time working, most of the time that work being unpaid, having to pay to have the job, and also having to write countless papers on what he learned and have to share it with students within the university. 

 The study wasn’t even something that could be half-assed, which in all honesty, thats how he spent a lot of his time in his first few years of college. Blowing his way through classes to charm girls around him, and the other reason his parents weren’t so happy with: partying. This worked out well for Jin, because female professors were so caught up in his looks, and how calming his voice was, that he didn’t even have to try to ask for a later deadline. Even male professors had a thing for him.  Even if he turned in something late, it was above and beyond.  A lot more than professors were looking for, because it was much more than they could get out of the average student.

But Jin was never an average student anyways.  He was good looking, charming, and had the brains to match.  And he knew how to use each and every one of those things to get what he needed, when he needed it.  Not to say he wasn’t fair, or that he bribed people, because he really didn't have to do much. He was able to do it in a way where people couldn’t even ask themselves if he was just pulling some shit on them, because each person fell for him way too easily.

So when it came to the last year of his undergrad, he tried to put away the charms and really focus on what he needed to do to get into medical school, to get a nice scholarship and keep up that whole honors student facade without his parent’s relentless questioning about what he did over the weekend and just where he was last night and how many girls has it been now? It got tiring, and fast.  The change wasn’t fun but it was probably for the best. He went out less, studied more, did what he was supposed to do. Not that anyone really doubted him anyways.

But his latest study was still in progress, he’s only talking about the one he did before this one began, and how it will relate to this one and just where he’s wanting it to go.  This city is like a gigantic mess anyways, if theres anything worth doing here, its looking at the people around you, and definitely questioning their sanity. He’ll even be silently judging the students listening to his lecture today in the back of his mind, while they talk amongst themselves in loud whispers, about his appearance in some way.

Late, late late.  You chanted this word to yourself frantically as you grabbed your things, rushing to your appointment with your lawyer this week, the dreaded one of dividing up belongings. And of course, it just has to be raining.

You stood by the front door of your house, looking at a small table where you put things occasionally like mail, your keys, your purse... and of course. Umbrellas.  Either you were overlooking the thing in your frantic stress haze or it really wasn’t there.  And if it wasn’t there... then it would be in your car.  Which is great.  Because instead of just parking in the garage, you parked in your driveway. Which means you’ll have to run to your car in this monsoon without getting wet.  If only you could perform magic...

All you could even do was hope that your purse would do the job.

It worked well enough going out to your car, and going into your lawyer’s office required less walking time, which equals less time in the rain. You were dry save for the little bit of your shoulders and fronts of your jeans, and your purse was absolutely covered in water. You just had to hope that the leather (or faux leather whatever this even was) refused to absorb the crazy amount of water on it that way all of your old receipts and half used chapsticks could stay dry.  

As for the packets of divorce papers inside, you could care less. 

This meeting was ridiculous, if it was anything. All of your husband’s proposals were laughable. Every. Single. One.  Not really in the ‘this is silly’ kind of way but in the ‘what is your deal, are you 12?’ kind of way.  It was really a petty statement... and somehow strangely genius, and cruel. 

You were left to keep the house, the car, whatever was inside the house except his very own belongings, (as if you had any use for them anyways), and have a money allotment for his children obviously to help with their living expenses.  And you could’ve bargained for living money for you also, since you were used to a certain lifestyle at this point, but you barely cared. As long as he did something for your children.  But since he very blatantly refused to give you any money for yourself, without you even saying you wanted any to begin with, you were stuck to pay for the massive house you owned, the bills, the car, and anything else at all that you may need.

It was safe to say he had the money to replenish his losses, whether it be clothes or tv’s or a whole new house.  Probably even dinners and jewelry for his little twinkie. Definitely.  

That was the cruel part. He wanted his kids to live well of course, he loved them. He just wanted you to be miserable.  How could you even be happy? You were the one who wanted a divorce after all. He was the one who was ‘innocent’. And he was trying his hand a everything he could just to catch you off guard and make you seem unstable or unfit to be a single mom.  Trying to make you angry, trying to get you to yell at him, be late to pick up your kids, anything.  He was even trying to start fights over text just so he could have some evidence, but you’ve kept your cool this far.  And now that you were thinking about it, you looked at the clock as your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. 

No... you thought, watching as the minute hand swung around closing in on the 30 minute mark. You needed to pick up your kids. Maybe you were starting to lose your cool, starting to slip up a little after being so consumed with paper work and thoughts so angering that your line of vision would get a little fuzzy, and you had to stop or your teeth would start grinding together.  You were close to becoming the you he wanted you to be.  

But the hand moved slow, and so did your lawyer, taking his sweet time.  He was only paid by the hour.  If you didn’t have kids you probably would’ve gotten a cheap lawyer who wold have this whole ordeal done and over with in the first meeting, but you needed the best for your kids.  And you needed someone willing to go into great detail and make sure your husband wasn’t fucking you over anymore than he already did. So the guy moved slow. You were barely even through the cars part when you started to feel like you needed to just escape your body and leave it here in this office and go pick up your kids. Your blood was creeping through your veins faster than a bullet and you just wanted to scream Hurry up!, but you couldn’t. You needed to keep your cool.

Jin sighed as he picked up soccer balls in the gymnasium connecting to the clubhouse.  Looking out the open door, it seemed that today’s rain was relentless.  Although practice had ended about 30 minutes ago, he hadn’t bothered to change back into his nicer clothes, he was still wearing joggers and a hoodie and a baseball cap, all complimentary in color. He figured that his cashmere needed a break.  Of course his mom would always buy him a new one just like every other kid in this city, but at this point he liked to do things on his own.  Take care of his clothes like an adult and buy his own cashmere when he fucks this one up for real.  As if he didn’t have a section just for cashmere sweaters in his closet.

You however, were outside fighting the rain, so focused on the ground, making sure not to hit any big puddles on your way or even trip.  Lately you’ve had quite the time with injuries, no matter how easily they could be avoided. Keeping your head down as to block the angled rain from smacking you right in the face, you tried to reach the clubhouse as quickly as possible.  Why is it so damn far from the parking lot?

You pulled the door open quickly, your hair sticking to your face, rain dripping down your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, your clothes sticking to your skin, but you didn’t care.  You scanned the lobby area of the building, moved to the locker rooms, to the side, opening doors and shutting them quickly, your cold, wet hands sliding over the door handles struggling to get them open and closed fast enough. Maybe in the kitchen? With each room, you searched with nothing to be found and your worry grew more severe. If they were going to be anywhere, they’d be in this building somewhere.

But there weren’t a lot of rooms.  Lobby area, changing rooms, kitchen, and the connecting gym.  So you ran to the gym, pushing the bar to open the metal door and swinging it open loudly.  Of course they would be in here right? Its raining out, they would be having indoor practice. They had to be in here.

Except they weren’t.

But someone was.  The closet room door was open, noise coming from inside, and you could see the shadow of someone moving around against the door propped open by a wooden wedge.  No matter who it was, they could tell you something, right? So you dashed in that direction, your wet and water filled shoes squeaking against the waxed wooden floors, your feet sliding around with little traction inside.

“Where are they?” You almost screamed at him, and he jumped slightly, turning to look at you from his position opposite the room, placing supplies back on their rightful shelves. He was clearly startled, but somehow still beautiful, shoulders raised on instinct, deep brown eyes wide as can be.

“Who?” He asked, placing the cones back on the shelves neatly where they belonged, and not where he had managed to put them when your presence surprised him.

“My sons!” You’re beginning to get angry.  What does he mean ‘who’? ‘Who’ else would there even be? What did he think you were there for? Grabbing some soccer balls just for fun? You stood in the doorway, your hands balled into fists, beginning to lose your strong composure almost as soon as it overcame you. Your eyebrows were furrowed in worry and your bottom lip was beginning to do that dreadful thing where it begged you to let out a sob.

“They got picked up?” The look of confusion was still plastered all over his beautiful face. You hated how calm he was about this, as if your kids not being here wasn’t his problem when you specifically remember him telling you that it would be okay if you were late sometimes, granting how busy your schedule was.

“Picked up?” Your voice was almost a whisper, squeaking at the last word. You could feel the tears brimming in your eyes, full of absolute fear. You always pick them up. You do. You always have. That was your job.  The mom to always be there on time, never late, only you.

“Yeah? Their dad picked them up, I believe.”

And then it hit you. Of course, he was picking them up.  It was part of the deal now, he got his time with them. They would be at his place tonight.  The fear faded away almost as quickly as it came and replaced itself with regret, and you started choking on your tears before they even really hit you.  This was so embarrassing! How could you even let yourself do this? You wanted to run away but suddenly you were aware at the lack of breath you had, probably from running everywhere and the thought that you had lost your children somewhere to some stranger.  Hiding your face in your hands the best you could, wishing that you could just disappear from this place, go back and try to not get stressed to the point where you forget what you’re even supposed to be doing today.  Your original daily plan didn’t include coming the the sports complex and breaking down in front a guy you let your thoughts drift off to in the evenings.

You heard to quiet scuff of shoes on the concrete coming in your direction, his smell drifting towards you, somehow calming you out of this state you were in, trying to hold back your tears then best you could, no matter how much you needed to get them out.

“Y/n,” he said softly, a hand gently touching your arm as if you calm you. “Are you okay?”

You groaned internally, lifting your face out of your hands enough that you could wipe away your tears with the edges of your sleeves as best as possible, hoping that no ugly mascara marks were anywhere on your cheeks, or smudged around your eyes now. But the jacket sleeves were wet, barely even making a difference at all. Sniffling a little then taking a deep breath, blinking back your next wave of tears, you prepared yourself to explain what just happened. You focused your eyes away from him, and out the closet door into the gym, studying the lines on the floors and the metal on the walls.

“I’m sorry.” You said with a groan, so embarrassed now you could feel your cheeks getting hot. “I just… I had to meet today with my lawyer and everything is just such a mess, I’ve been so stressed out I just completely forgot that he was picking them up.  I got so scared.  I should probably just go home.” You began to walk out the door but the hand that was rubbing your arm grabbed it and held you in place.

“Thats fine, but at least wait a couple minutes.  Let yourself calm down before you go back out. If its any consolation, I didn’t have that great of a day either.  That makes the two of us.” He squeezed your arm a little bit at the last sentence, a bright smile on his face. You laughed a little although you still had tears in your eyes.

“Really?” You noticed your mouth was moving slowly, and that your cheeks were practically frozen.  When did it get so cold in here? “What happened?” You sniffled again, your teeth beginning to chatter slightly, and Jin noticed.  

“I’ll tell you, but we need to do something about your clothes first.  Look, I just wore these for practice, I have my clothes from today in the changing room.  How about I change out of these and back into my regular clothes, and you can put these on so you don’t have to wear those anymore. Sound good?”

You managed to nod through the shivering, and you followed him out of the gym and back into the lobby area, toward the changing rooms. Standing outside the door waiting while he changed, you used this time to take a couple deep breaths and try to clear your mind.  How bad could this be? You spend some of your time just thinking about Jin as a distraction, so why can’t you just shake these bad feelings away? Why can’t you just calm down and be yourself in his presence without all this emotional bullshit following you and pulling you down?

“Here, they might be a little big.  I also found a bag you can put your wet clothes into.” He handed his clothes to you and the bag, and you gave him a smile. You sighed as you entered the changing room, closing the door slowly behind you. You laid his clothes down on the bench and began stripping off your own clothes, which at this point were making a desperate attempt to stay onto your goosebump ridden body. The air hitting your skin as you removed the layers and tossed them in the bag wasn’t helping either.  Before you knew it, you were standing in your bra and underwear, staring at his hoodie and pants, contemplating what to do.  The rain had practically soaked you to the bone, the padding on your bra taking it upon itself to soak up as much water as possible, and your underwear were clinging to you desperately, although they were only wet near the top, it would still be annoying to wear them.

‘It’ll be no big deal,’ you thought, stripping your underwear off and sliding on his joggers, tossing the wet fabric into the bag with the rest of your clothes.  Next came your bra, going into the bag as well.  You’ll just wash his stuff before you give it back to him.  And when you go back out there, just hide well enough inside his hoodie that he can’t see the lack of support around your boobs.  You picked up the pink fabric, sliding it over top of your head, the hood falling right into place on your head as you covered the rest of your torso.  God, what kind of cologne is this? It’s almost hypnotizing. You were so used to the stuff your husband used to wear that the new scent was almost intoxicating, and the fact that you were covered in it now was absolutely amazing. You grabbed ahold of the neck and pulled it up to your nose, taking in a big whiff, letting it into your lungs and allow it to fill your body as much as possible.  You wanted to live in this scent.  Hell, you could even die in it.

Having no choice but to slide your still soaked shoes on, you returned back to the lobby so he wouldn’t think you were having some serious issues changing. The shoes were sloshy and miserable, but there wasn’t much you could do about them at this point.

“How’s that? All better?” He was sitting on a bench across from the door, next to one of those word indoor plants.

“Much better.” You said with a nod. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least I could do. Now, where were we?” You sat down on the bench next to him, dropping your bag of wet clothes on the floor next to you. “I was going to tell you about my day.  Firstly, this rain is the worst. I think thats what started it for me.  I had to do this presentation for a class today, and it was pretty important and I really wanted to do well, but then I was running late, and I walked to it in the rain… and then I got there… and the presentation for the most part was alright I believe.  But I was a few minutes late which looks bad for me, and also I was a little wet from the rain, so my appearance probably wasn’t very good either.  Not to mention I walked over here also.”

“I’m sure you did fine.  Try not to worry about it. Would you like me to give you a ride back to your place?”

“Sure, that would be great. Unless its out of your way or something.” He protested slightly.

“No, Im sure its fine.  Actually… I really want to get these clothes back to you. We could… or— no— never mind.” You shook your head in embarrassment.  Where did you expect to go with that? Of course you need to get his clothes back to him, especially with no suspicion from anyone around.

“No, no. Go on.” He encouraged, wanting to know what you were going to say in the first place.

“I’m sorry I think it was a little inappropriate. I really shouldn’t.” You shook your head again.

“It will be fine, Im sure. We’re both adults. I don’t have anything to do this evening, so if you have things you need to do you won’t be keeping me.”

“Oh. No, I’m not busy either. In fact, since my kids aren’t home I don’t have anything to do at all. I thought maybe… You could come over, that way I can change and get your clothes back to you without any hassle.  And if you’re hungry I would buy you some dinner since you’ve been so kind to me lately.” You said shyly, turning our gaze from him to the ground. Are you insane? Inviting him over? Your slight nighttime fantasies are really getting then best of you aren’t they? But here you are again, adding some sense to the madness.  It wouldn’t be bad to invite him over, its harmless.  It’s innocent.  You want to give him his clothes back, and do something nice for him to show how grateful you are for treating you and your sons so nicely.

“That sounds great.” He flashed you that heart-stopping smile he has, and you began to feel content for the first time today.  “Let me grab my things, and we can get going."

He disappeared into the changing rooms once again, reappearing with a backpack slung over his arm and an umbrella.  He motioned to the door with his hand and you led the way, stopping on the small concrete patch right outside the door under an awning, somewhat still safe from the rain.

“Here, you hold onto my umbrella and try to stay dry okay?”

You took the large black umbrella from him, holding it high enough that it would cover both of you, and he trailed closely behind as you both started to walk, and you hoped that you were able to cover him from this ridiculous rainfall.

Your pace was a little quick, and being the gentleman that Jin is, he wanted to keep a safe distance as to not step on the heels of your shoes, so he was stuck with his head almost safely under the cover of the umbrella but his body oddly and uncomfortably out in the rain. Which by the way, was still acting ruthless.  Today’s sky was determined to supply your city with enough rain water to support all of California for about 5 years. 

Jin climbed into the passenger seat as you closed the umbrella hurriedly and plopped your body into the driver’s seat with a huff. Looking over at him you winced at the damage caused, the shoulders of his sweater thoroughly soaked, spreading happily down the rest of his torso as if it knew no boundaries. 

“Good thing I’m getting your clothes back to you, right?” You started the car as he laughed at your statement, and you drove off into this crazy rain the best you could. With headlights blaring and wipers at full speed, you drove slower than you normally would, due to the weather and of course, the precious cargo beside you. 

Jin tried wiping at the back of his neck with his sweater sleeve, in attempt to remove the water droplets hanging out there, but with no such luck.  Cashmere. He though to himself, half tempted to roll his eyes, but remembered almost no sweater on the face of the earth can actually absorb water to any extent. 

Jin really wasn’t phased by the size of your house much less the size plus the fact that you were now all alone in it, save for your kids. He examined all the walls surrounding him, half tempted to tell you that your house was charming, but decided not to. You looked frazzled enough as it is, a type of fear on your face that only a person breaking the rules would have, if they happened to care just as much. 

It was something he didn’t quite understand, the part of you with so much fear.  But it wasn’t really his place, unless you wanted to tell him. But you noticed the way you were acting, the way you were looking around the room, hesitant to do anything at all. 

“I’m sorry, you must be so uncomfortable. Let’s get you a towel, okay? C’mon.” You waved your hand in the direction of your bedroom shaking off the ridiculous feeling, and he followed you until you reached the small closet in your bathroom where you kept all of your bath towels and some other miscellaneous items. 

Pulling on a towel that was basically stuffed into the shelf space in an uncomfortable way, you caused what could only be described as a towel avalanche.  The second the first towel started to fall off the shelf, Jin rushed to your side to grab as many as he could as you held your hands in front of your face to ward off being covered completely in terry cloth. 

You couldn’t help but to laugh, it was embarrassing but it was also really funny to you that both of you were being attacked by a shelf full of poorly organized towels. You were soon on your knees, picking up the towels and folding them the best you could, and Jin helped also. You were both laughing at this point because this was such a mess, this whole day was such as mess, but your cheeks were burning.  This could’ve been easily avoided, if you would’ve just took the time to actually roll the towels up and stack them like you normally did.

Biting at your lower lip, you folded a towel and placed it on the pile in front of you just as Jin was, your hands touching briefly before both pulling back in apology. You giggled at this small mishap too, and looked over to him as he waited for you to put your towel on the pile.  He was smiling slightly, that little smirk that was sweet, playful... and then it faded. And yours did too.  You didn’t know why, or how it happened, maybe it was just being so close to him for once. 

But his eyes left yours and glanced down at your lips, and you couldn’t help but to stare at his since the moment his smile deserted them. It was so quiet, all you could hear was your own ragged breath, your heart beating in your ears. 

He leaned in slowly, but with confidence, and your body followed his actions without even asking your brain first if it was all okay. It was the same type of rush you get when you’re about to head down a hill full speed on a rollercoaster, terrifying but exciting, your stomach floating in midair, consumed by angry, burning butterflies anticipating what was to come. 

It was soft, the touch of his full lips to yours, perfect placement, feeling his top lip in-between yours and his bottom lip catching the area where your own bottom lip ended. This feeling was something that you hadn’t had in a long time, that feeling when something is brand new, and you’re excited for what will happen and where it all will go, and its refreshing, and cool, and makes you happy to see another day, and just live in this moment. 

If only you could just live in this moment.

But you pulled away quickly, probably too soon, panicked and a little ashamed. Jin barely had a look of regret on his face, it was there, but just a dash. Mixed in with a few other things, like the simple joy he always radiated and maybe an ounce of affection. It was just a kiss of course, something you’ve always considered to be innocent, it could mean everything or just a little.  Either way it only held that importance to those who were doing it, whether they reciprocated the feeling or not.  A kiss is a kiss.  So why are you afraid? 

There was no silent apology floating in the air, somehow you both knew that it may have been a little out of boundaries, but still fine. You couldn’t be angry at him, its almost like he’s been reading your thoughts. And who knows when he realized himself how bad he wanted to kiss you, how much he thought you deserved the satisfaction and the warmth a kiss brought.

You swallowed thickly, somehow your mouth dry now as you folded towels in silence, almost done withe the unwanted task. Standing again, you looked down at the floor, scratching at the back of your head a little bit to act as if nothing had just happened between you, although you were feeling the aftermath of that simple kiss pretty strongly throughout your entire body.  It was like the strike of the match, catching the side of the box but not quite lighting, only just giving off a tiny spark. 

“If you’d like, since you’re here, I could wash your clothes for you so they don’t have to lay around soaked in rain water. It’s not really good for them.” You offered, wanting to move forward with your night as quickly as possible, far away from that amazing... kiss... You watched as his plump pink lips formed a smile once again, something so charming that never failed to make your heart jump a thousand feet in the air every time he sent it your way. 

“That would be really nice of you, if it isn’t too much trouble.  I think my sweater is the worst part, my pants are probably okay. They didn’t get that wet, and I’m not that worried about them honestly. They’ll survive either way.” 

He pulled at the neck of his sweater, lifting the soft fabric over his head as you watched with wide eyes, that match striking the box again, begging to just ignite. His tan broad shoulders where finally exposed, and he tilted his head to the side to study your expression as his slid the sleeves off his arms. The kiss can mean little, or it can mean everything. The kiss was the strike, you the match, him the box, waiting for you to catch on. 

When your teeth tugged at the soft skin of your lower lip he knew he had gotten you, but he also knew that you had gotten him too.  Sweater in hand, he reached out to hand it to you, and you walked forward as if to take it, but bypassed it completely, your hands tangling in the hair at the back of his head as you pulled him into a kiss, his full lips inviting, warm, and everything you had previously imagined them to be. 

It was crazy how much you wanted this, how much you had thought about it in your wine drenched mind, every movement soaked in a deep red liquid. But this was different, it was the bright light of your bathroom, his hands dropping the sweater and wrapping around your waist to lead you backwards into the warm, intimate lighting of your bedroom. His lips working against yours with expertise, wanting you to just give in, to steer you away from the ‘this is so bad’ mentality that you were currently living in. Because you knew it wasn’t, you were single, you husband had freely done this type of thing even when you were still married.  

If only you could just coax your entire being into just letting this whole thing happen... because his scent was beginning to take up every available thought in your mind, swallow them up and consume them so that all you could even think about was him and how he smelled, how he felt, how he looked, how his lips tasted. 

His skin was firm, warm, soft, running your hands over his bare chest as if you were feeling the finest velvet in a fabric store. You couldn’t even decide where you wanted your hands on him, there were so many places to touch, to explore that your hands could now maneuver when only your mind used to be able to. His chest, back up to his neck, into the still damp hair at the nape of his neck. You wanted to pull on it, to see what would happen if you did, but you refrained. 

This was messy.  Even if you felt like it was a mistake it was so good that you couldn’t even bring yourself to consider it. His tongue was to against your own, it was sloppy, it was deep, pushing far, caressing yours gently but harshly. Everything was done with a type of seriousness that made you feel like it was the realest thing you’ve ever had in your whole life.  It was just so raw, the gasps leaving your mouth as his teeth tugged at your lip, your neck, your jaw, everywhere he could even get his mouth was not safe from his lips or his tongue or his teeth grazing it. It was sickeningly sweet. Painful, but sweet.  Like he wanted to treat you roughly but only in the right way that was sugarcoated twice over.

You barely even wanted to try, in fact he physically made it clear a few times that he was the one running the show.  He let you tug on his hair, groan his name softly, touch him anywhere you could get your hands on, but tonight was not going to be run by you.  And it wasn’t something that even made you feel bad, he wasn’t being greedy, it was done with a type of gentleness that made it feel like he just wanted to take care of you, that he was doing all the work, but it was all for you.

And that was fine by you.  Because everything he was doing at this point was damn good.

All the gasps, the heaving breathing, everything between the two of you was causing an intense heat, whether it just be the excitement or just the fact that this was literally so hot, you needed to get out of his sweats, and fast. The flame was now burning deep red.

Whatever you needed, Jin felt it too.  He began a kiss that was insanely slow, and painfully deep, as his hands reaching underneath the hoodie you were wearing, lifting the bottom hem lazily, exposing your skin one swipe of his tongue at a time. He only pulled away long enough to release you completely from the thick cotton fabric, a whiff of his cologne embracing you once again, before fading away as quickly as it came. Being apart even for that split second felt like a million years too long. However, he took his time taking in the sight, tossing his hoodie onto your wooden floor, eyes scanning your chest, honest and satisfied.

His lips pulled into a smirk, a sultry play on what would be his usual smile. He moved to place his lips on yours again, a hand placed on the back on your head, tangled within a few strands of almost dried hair. You might’ve been angry at the slight pull it caused, your hair still having not completely dried, and being matted with rain water with little defense.  You kinda embraced the pain, though a wince may have appeared across your brow for a millisecond.  In turn you moaned into his mouth, and he took that as a sign to move even further.

He sat with his legs outstretched as far as they could be in his position, holding onto your thigh and waist as he pulled you across his legs, so you were then straddling his thighs. From this angle he was able to look at you through hooded eyes, through his eye lashes, and you down at him, holding each side of his perfect face with both of your hands.  His arms wrapped around you tightly, and held you close enough that your breasts were brushing the chiseled edges of his collarbones. 

He let out a small laugh in a single breath at the feeling, and all you could do was smile.  He leaned in only slightly, pressing his lips to yours gently, teasingly, then nipping at your lower lip with his own.  You had never had such amazing time with someone, and all you’ve even done was kiss.  Jin felt lucky, he loved this angle of any woman, but for someone reason it was perfect for you in particular, he felt. In a way, he was lifting you up, on some sort of metaphorical pedestal, holding you high and treating you to kisses across your skin, your neck down to your shoulder, your collarbones, the tops of your breasts. Sucking on the skin and soothing it with his tongue, you tilted your head back to enjoy the feeling, maybe a little too much.  But who’s to say what the right amount is? Especially if they weren’t here experiencing this moment themselves. 

His lips found their way back up your neck, his hands wandering ever so low, dipping underneath the band of his sweats you still had on. You knowing that in your pantiless state you probably have a wonderful wet spot inside because his lips were driving you insane, specifically when they reached that spot a little below your jaw, behind your ear.  When you gasped, he took it as another hint to keep going.  His fingers hooked on the band of the joggers, pulling them as far off your ass as possible with you sitting on his lap. 

He dug is fingers into your skin, grabbing handfuls of your ass then soothing them other gently with the tips of his fingers. Your own hands ran through his blonde locks, from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck,  tugging on the hair, nails gently scraping against his scalp as you breathed into his mouth, wanting to kiss him until you couldn’t breathe, but you resisted the feeling, curious of what he planned to do next.

When his fingers gripped onto you this time, you couldn’t help but to move in the same direction of his hands, your hips moving back slightly, causing a brief but delicious friction against the dress pants he had on.  You could barely even tell, either his willpower was amazing, or you just couldn’t feel anything through all the layers, but you were sure it was just thanks to the bunched up zipper you were able to feel that. 

Also, why does he still have his pants on anyways?

Deciding to take initiative-- just for a second-- you slid back on his legs far enough that you had comfortable access to his button and zipper, trying to calm your nerves for long enough to undo them, but it seemed impossible. Acknowledging your struggle without a word, Jin picked both your hands up and kissed them, placing them back onto your lap as he freed himself from underneath your body. 

He faced you as he stood up off the bed, taking his pants off with ease. He kicked them off his feet, then towards the area where he had managed to throw his hoodie earlier. As you took in the sight, he looked at your curiously, pondering what to do next.  Cocking his head to the side, he stuck his fingers underneath the band of his underwear, testing your reaction before proceeding to remove them. 

He wanted to take things slowly, so he stopped.  You both needed to be in an equal state. 

You looked at each other in a state of awe.  

You didn’t want to stare, but you couldn’t help it.  You had never wanted to wrap your lips around someone so fiercely in all your life. That being, you had only really been with your husband before, and you never much took a liking to sucking someone off at all.  But with this, you were so tempted, just to try it. Its possible that you were becoming a little too mesmerized by it because Jin leaned into you, a finger under your chin to pull your lips up to his. 

“Maybe next time.” He said against them, his voice deep as the Pacific and sweeter than fucking honey. 

You both kept your lips at the same distance, but he kept moving forward, forcing you to lay back onto your satin sheets.  They were cool and welcoming against your hot skin, but Jin’s hands made their way onto your body, causing another wave of goosebumps. 

His hands worked smoothly on the skin of your stomach, each touch being followed by a kiss downwards until he reached the area where your leg and torso meet.  At that point he slowed, looking up at you with curious eyes.  

He kissed down your thigh until he was at equal level  in between your legs, exactly where he wanted to be.  Jin really was one for foreplay, he felt like it was necessary to have a really good time. And he was always one for oral because it was really pleasing for either person. 

Just one soft lick up your entire core had your toes curling because God, its been so long since anyone has done that at all. And Jin knew it was really about finding the perfect rhythm for each girl, and thats what he was about to do. 

His breath was hot against your skin, another good reason for goosebumps to raise on your skin again.  He turned his head to kiss at your thighs and you giggled, his hair tickling across the skin of the opposite one.  You could feel his lips curl into a smile at hearing your laughter, and then he was back at your core again, lips brushing gently at your clit making you want to squeeze your thighs tightly shut in anticipation. 

What he did next was cruel, wrapping his full lips around your clit to suck so softly... and then to tease at your entrance with his tongue so gently before licking slowly back up to your clit again. It was exactly what you needed and you didn’t even know. 

And he had you so entranced, so immersed in the feeling that it all seemed like an actual dream.  Like maybe you really were just dreaming because this unbelievably good, and so quickly.  Maybe it was due to the fact that you had only really been with one person and so used to just one style... A style that was outdated and boring and unable to change or fit what you may really need. 

But there was not faking in this, there was no pretending to be close because you seriously were. Each hot breath, each soft kiss in between his tongue ??? and there was nothing else in this room beside you and him. There was nothing else in this world besides you and him.

Before you even knew it was almost there, and you realized your hands were tangled in his blond locks, tugging on the strands to bring him closer as if to intensify the feeling.  He got the picture, and he wasn’t going to keep you waiting.  But his lips left, and what was replaced by them was just a tip of his finger and you let out a small noise of disapproval. He rubbed in a circle a few times before sliding it down, now rubbing around your entrance before slipping slowly inside.

Then they were back, his lips back on your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue working quickly at it as his finger was moving slowly in and out of you. It was so amazing, digging your toes into your mattress letting the whole feeling consume you.  It really almost felt like too much, until it curled his finger upwards, and everything came spilling out at once. 

Now the world only consisted of you and him and the sound of your heaving breathing and moans, and everything really truly felt like heaven. He let his tongue move slowly as you rode the high out until you absolutely couldn’t stand it anymore, then he pulled away, kissing at your thighs until he was at your knees. 

You thought that maybe you might be dead, because your body felt weighted down so harshly and kinda tired, but you were alive somehow.  You just guessed thats what a real orgasm could do to you. The weight on the bed shifted as Jin climbed over you, looking down at your face curiously. 

“Mmm, you okay?” It felt like it took all the strength in your body to laugh at his words, you probably looked like an absolute mess.  “You wanna scoot back, lay on some pillows?”

You nodded and crawled backwards, falling heavily back onto your pile of pillows at the head of your bed.  God you felt exhausted already, but looking down at Jin crawling towards you on the mattress, dick bobbing with each movement, you suddenly felt so energized.  It looked like it hurt, like it was little throbbing, you had no idea how he could go so long without anyone touching him at all. 

The smile on his face was alluring, drawing you in.  You leaned forward to pull him into you, crashing your lips against his, tasting yourself all over his mouth.  He seemed to be just as impatient, spreading you legs apart with one hand as he propped the other against the headboard behind you to steady himself. 

You were still kissing him passionately, tongues clashing, trying not to hit your teeth on his, but you couldn’t get close enough to him it felt like.  The hand that was on your thigh was now rubbing over his dick, scooting himself closer to you so that he could rub the tip over the wet mess that he had created between your legs. 

You  smiled with a moan into his mouth and he took it as sign to keep going, that this was what you liked, what you wanted.  So he eased into you little by little, both of you sighing sweetly at the feeling.  Your mouths wanted to stay right where they were, at least for now. 

His thrusts were slow, really making you feel everything he was doing, 

It wasn’t quick, and it wasn’t uncomfortable.  It was nothing like you ever really experienced before. You were used to it being a little quick, a little distant; not this close, not this personal, and not this sensual.  It really felt like you were in a movie, the type where the camera lens should be fogging up, hot and heavy breathing everywhere only interrupted by a sweet moan on either end. 

And it wasn’t desperate, although you were afraid you may be too grabby and too needy, wanting the full pleasure as quickly as possible, wanting to hold him tight and not let him escape.  It really felt like you had all the time in the world, that you could seriously do this all night long and you considered that a real possibility but he really knew what he was doing. 

You really could’ve settled for him eating you out, of course you could’ve because it was fulfilling, draining almost, in the most perfect way. It was the exact type of release you needed through every sexual encounter you have ever had. That one thing you didn’t even know really existed. 

You really couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be on the other end of this, to be the one on top of him, what his face would look like then, what he would sound like.  Because right now he was the most beautiful yet, eyebrows furrowed in focus, raising slightly when something felt particularly good. 

At least you had time to enjoy all this.  He was building you up perfectly, moving in every right direction and pushing you closer and closer until it was almost unbearable.  Having things fast was fine, and it was really fun sometimes but it never really took you anywhere unless it was able to last for any amount of time, and lets face it, thats not a reality.

He knew well, that after having his mouth in-between your legs you’d still in some way be worked up and sensitive to anything at all. It worked out well for him in the past with various girls, and he always knew that it was a sure start to making them come this way too. And you really were no different. 

God he had you so agonizingly close... He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, both  of you breathing so heavily into it you felt like you might suffocate, and you didn’t mind dying this way.  But being this close gave him the right kind of leverage to thrust into that one place he sought out with his finger before. 

His lips moved to your neck, that one place right below your ear and you could even hear in his breathing that he was struggling to hold on himself. He wouldn’t let it show, but the feeling was driving him insane.  He was used to doing all of this.  Not as often anymore, but he knew how good he was. And he knew how to change it up, and some girls were really, really good. 

But you really had him right in this place he wasn’t used to being in.  And it was unrealistic, and so wild, and you knew it.  No one ever came loose at the same time, no one ever really got there on the same level unless they were absolutely used to faking it (which you used to do). But none of this was real to you, how could it be? It was too amazing.

It all happened just like that.  That one spot, and your eyes widened as far as they could, and his screwed shut, his face still in the crook of your neck, feeling your clench around him in what felt like waves as you came undone beneath him.  He tried moving as steadily as possible, letting you both finish so solidly and thoroughly but it was hard.  And strange. It just wasn’t something that happens. 

Both of you were completely spent, unsure of what even to do now except lay there together trying to catch your breaths. It wasn’t really Jin’s style, he liked to finish it all strongly, a few more kisses like he really meant it all, then work on cleaning it all up so that they could have a good nights rest after the evenings activities. 

He forced himself to kiss your neck, now salty with sweat, and you laughed at the soft but ticklish sensation.  His lips kissed their way across your jaw until they reached your lips, kissing you so deeply that you thought you might pass out. When he broke away he smiled at you, that same heart stopping smile that got you here in the first place. 

You both made an uncomfortable groan as he pulled out of you, that empty usual feeling returning, and he disappeared into your bathroom to get a towel to clean both of you up. 

He dipped back down in between your legs, wiping at the mess with a damp towel which was so oddly sweet, you had never had anyone take care of you like this before.  Your heart ached a little. When he was sure you were clean, he tossed the towel onto the floor, and you reached for him to pull him beside you, crawling underneath the covers and taking him with you. 

You sheepishly covered your face with the comforter, really feeling so happy in this moment that you wanted to hide your smile, the look in your eyes.  He hummed at the sight, knowing what it meant.  He felt something strange too, looking at you before, looking at you now.  You had no idea what to do now... usually you would shake the whole evening off as if nothing out of the ordinary happened but this was not one of those times. 

As tired as you both were, you had the whole night to get to know each other more. That exactly what you were going to use it for. 

You felt at home.  For the first time in a long time.  It was strange to you because you didn’t really know Jin that well, just a few things, but he made a point to be in your life, whatever his real reasoning was.  And he was interested in you, obviously.  So for things to really be panning out this way, you just wanted to smile and scream and jump around like a giddy teenager when the boy she likes finally likes her back. 

It was a good feeling.  To have someone so close, so nice.  Someone that you could be with so passionately, then talk to so comfortably for as long as you wanted about absolutely anything.  It almost seemed too good to be true. 

Jin watched you as your breathing slowed, steadied itself as you began to drift off.  He wasn’t that interested in sleeping at the moment. Usually he would go right to bed afterwards, but things here weren’t like things with college girls. Even if what you needed was a fling, to have some fun, (and he considered that greatly because it would be the best case scenario, just a rebound) but he liked you.  And he cared.  It was different because you were older, you had been married already, you had kids.  You weren’t exactly someone who could be flung. 

You were someone who needed care, and solidarity, and actual love.  You were deserving of romance, and kindness, and most importantly just someone who wanted to treat you well and would follow through.  This type of thought is what Jin was stuck on, because he wasn’t really set on anything until tonight.

And he wasn’t quite sure what it was. He knew that he could treat women well, in many ways. And he’s never really had a bad experience in that area, because he is just that right amount of charming to save him from anything. Tonight though, was phenomenal, if that word would even cover it.  He had never felt so close to anyone in his life, and he was wholesome, and refreshing. Just that feeling you want all the time. 

Now that he’s found it, what is he supposed to do?