#(THIS ONE ACTUALLY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH REPEAT BC YOUNG ME HAD THE IDEA FOR A LITERAL ETERNITY)

[sansaorgana]

I had an idea earlier about buck x reader, where after buck and the other 2 escaped and left bucky behind in part 9, they stumble upon a house near the forest (after the german kid soliders attacked them).

The reader lives there and she basically helps them hiding for a bit and also returning to the english base. She is against the war (which is the reason she helps them) and maybe a little angst where buck needs to protect her at the base bc she is still a german citizen.

What do you think?

hi! thank you for your request! 💞 honestly, I think it's the first 100% angst piece I have written for Buck because even the ones with sad events that I have posted so far had happy endings... but not this one 😅 since I have already written a similar fic and didn't want to repeat the same ending... I couldn't think of anything else how they could have their happily ever after 😪 I hope you can forgive me 💔

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

In the heart of the enemy’s territory, he felt like a chased wild animal. Even though he was still human enough not to pull a trigger at a brainwashed German kid, Buck Cleven felt like a prey with nothing but survival on his mind. The forest was dark, muddy and unfriendly. A never ending maze with predators hiding all around. A thought of his dead friend and a thought of Bucky left behind were what kept him sane. The sun was going down slowly and he had no idea where to go. His other friend, Bill, was right behind him.

“Buck,” he hissed and waved his hand to make them both freeze in place. “There’s a house,” he pointed at the dark and old building by the country road behind the trees. “We’re close to town.”

“The lights are off. Maybe it’s inhabited,” Buck pointed out. “If it’s the case, we can find some supplies there.”

“Shall I go and check?” Bill asked.

“No, I will go,” Buck nodded and clutched on the gun in his hand hidden under the coat.

He walked carefully and slowly, making sure not to make too much noise, with his back hunched and breath steady. His blue eyes scanned the garden behind the house. It had herbs growing there but it was messy and the windows were dirty. Everything looked as if it was abandoned.

Encouraged by the looks of it, Buck walked to the front of the house and tried to push the door open but they were locked. However, the door was wooden and old, all it took was another, stronger push to open them wide with a loud squeak that made him wince.

He waited for a while to make sure there were no footsteps approaching him but when he heard nothing but silence, he entered the house and walked around curiously as the last rays of the sun going down lit the walls and the pictures hung on them. There were mostly family portraits and religious images – everything cosy and very cottage-like. There was only one portrait of a young soldier in a Wehrmacht uniform but his face was so friendly and sad that Buck didn’t even feel any hatred looking at it.

Focused on the picture, he lost his focus for a while. And then he heard a small noise and turned around with widened eyes as he spotted a young, scared woman in the corner of the room. She had a gun, too. Her hands were shaking and her pupils were huge out of fear but she was pointing the gun at him. He didn’t know if he should raise his hands and give up or point the gun at her in return – it was very doubtful she would actually pull the trigger.

He trusted no one. When he took a small step ahead to test her, she startled but she didn’t unload the pistol. So he pointed his own weapon at her and in that moment she dropped her gun and lifted her hands up while sobbing.

“P-Please, no,” she pleaded in English. “Please, don’t kill me,” her whispers were broken and shaky and Buck felt bad for her. Did she live in that house? 

“Do you live here alone?” He asked, trying not to sound too nice. She nodded. “How so?”

“I lived here with my brother and my papa,” she explained and pointed her finger at the portrait on the wall carefully. “They took my brother away. In the beginning of the war. He didn’t come back. My papa, he was old now. But they took him too a few weeks ago. Because they need more men,” she was looking for the right words with her limited vocabulary.

“How do you know English?” Buck raised an eyebrow at her.

“Papa taught us. He was a soldier in the last war. He met the English and the Americans. He was a captive,” she explained and sniffled her tears. “Please, don’t kill me,” she begged once more and Buck felt stupid for still pointing his gun at her. He lowered his hand and she sighed out of relief.

“Do you need help?” He asked. Something about her and the state of this house made him forget about his own tragic situation at the moment. She was a young woman left alone in the middle of nowhere in a country that was on the verge of losing the war. It was not safe for her and she looked weakened as if she had not had any proper meal in a long while.

“Do you?” She asked.

“Me and my friend… He’s inside the forest… We ran away from the camp, too. We are American pilots. We need to get to the American soldiers. Do you know where we can find them?” Buck asked.

“They are in town,” the girl nodded. “I can take you to them tomorrow,” she offered.

“Why not now?”

“Because it’s dark already. And you need rest,” she pointed out. Buck squinted his eyes at her. “I don’t have a phone here. And German police are not here anymore. You are safe,” she assured him. “Tell your friend to come here,” the girl crouched down and picked up her gun again. Buck clutched on his but she hid hers into the pocket of her patched dress. “It’s not loaded,” she revealed to him with a sad smile. “I lost all my bullets two weeks ago when a few strange men came here and I had to scare them off.”

Buck nodded and slowly walked out of the house. He still was not sure if she was trustworthy but he craved nothing but rest. He came back for Bill and told him about the situation they had found themselves in.

“I’m not sure, Buck,” he shook his head. “Listen, what if I go there and scare her, steal some food and we run to that town on our own?” He proposed.

Buck understood where his friend was coming from. And he did not judge him. However, he did not agree to his plan.

“No,” he only said. “It’s just a girl.”

“They’re all just girls and boys. Like the kids back there in the forest,” Bill reminded him.

“I know. But she’s not like them.”

“How do you know that?” Bill requested an explanation.

“I just know,” was all Buck could say as he nodded at his friend to follow him.

Reluctantly, Bill went to the house after Buck. The girl was sitting by the round kitchen table and lighting a few candles. She looked up, giving them a doe-eyed look.

“I don’t have electricity here anymore,” she confessed. “But the candles are fine,” she added. “Here, I collected some of my brother’s and papa’s clothes for you to change. When I take you to town tomorrow, I don’t want anyone to know who you are. In the forest… There are a lot of people you can’t trust,” she explained.

“And you?” Bill asked, still not convinced. “Why can we trust you?”

“You have to,” she looked at him and then she turned around to point at the kitchen cabinet. “I don’t have much food left. And the fridge doesn’t work without electricity. I have some cans and a few wild berries I picked in the forest. Some cheese they gave me in town out of mercy.”

“We don’t want to eat your food,” Buck assured her. “Only a little bit.”

“I’m hungry,” Bill added and Buck shot him an unpleasant glance.

“So is she. And the food is hers. She doesn’t have to help us, you know?”

Bill went silent and took a pile of clothes to the living room where he began to change. Buck was left alone with the girl in the kitchen. She was looking down nervously, focusing on his hands to avoid his eyes.

“And what is your name?” He asked her out of courtesy.

“It’s (Y/N),” she whispered. “And yours?”

“I’m Major Gale Cleven,” he reached his hand out and she hesitantly shook it. She also dared to look up and meet his gaze. Buck felt his heart skipping a beat at the sight of how sad and broken those young eyes were.

Back where he was from, young girls were not affected by the war like this. Sure, they were worried about their husbands, fathers and brothers. But they were still drinking coke, danced at the parties, whined at the shortage of nylon and drew the lines on their calves to imitate the tights. They were slowly getting used to wearing jeans as they overtook the factories, they were poster girls and had their hair done up in victory rolls. They were marking the letters with red and pink lipsticks and perfumes. And this young girl in front of him already had the eyes of a very old and wise woman. It shouldn’t be like this.

“Major Gale Cleven,” she repeated. “Sounds like from a movie.”

He was just Buck. Nothing special at all. He was not even from Hollywood or New York. But to her he was already unrealistic enough. She batted her eyelashes and looked away, shyly.

“Not really,” Buck tried to convince her and she gave him a sad smile.

Bill came back in new clothes. It was Buck’s turn now but he was afraid of leaving (Y/N) alone with his friend, so he kept staring at them awkwardly.

“Go,” Bill rolled his eyes. “I won’t hurt her,” he promised.

So Buck grabbed a pile of clothes preparead for him and went to the living room to change as fast as possible. When he came back to the kitchen, Bill was already eating some canned food with a slice of cheese and a few wild berries. A similar meal was waiting for Buck, too. (Y/N) was sitting by the table but she had no food in front of her.

“And you?” He asked her as he sat down.

“I already ate,” she told him but he had a feeling she lied so he pretended to be full already after eating a half of the plate. He offered her the rest and she eagerly took it from him as her eyes sparkled. It was probably her first “proper” meal on that day.

After they ate, (Y/N) showed them to their rooms. One belonged to her father and it was downstairs. Upstairs there were two tiny bedrooms. One was hers and one was her brother’s. She wanted Buck to sleep in it. She didn’t have to say it out loud but he knew that she trusted him more than she trusted his friend. Bill was not complaining because the room downstairs was bigger and had a nicer bed.

When Bill was already in the bedroom given to him, (Y/N) was helping Buck to put the sheets on. He was insisting there was no need but she tried her best to be a good host even in such gruesome circumstances.

“When I do this… It’s a bit like… It’s still normal, you know?” She tried to explain the best she could. He nodded at her. He understood. “There you go,” she fixed the sheets for the last time and looked down proudly at the made up bed.

“Thank you,” Buck nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up at the poster on her brother’s wall. It was very old and the colours were faded away now but he could recognise it. It was a movie poster of Charlie Chaplin’s movie City Lights.

“My brother liked Charlie Chaplin,” (Y/N) smiled. “And the films. Especially American ones. He didn’t get to see many but he liked the posters,” she explained. “When he was able to see a film, he would come back home and tell me everything about it.”

“I hope he’s alright,” Buck tried to cheer her up.

“He died,” she explained and he felt a stinging pain in his heart.

“You only said he hadn’t come back…”

“They sent us a medal and all. He’s dead,” she explained. “But papa threw the medal away. It’s in the river now.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t like Hitler. And my brother didn’t like him either,” she nodded. “I wish he was here, my brother. He would like you,” she added before finally approaching the door to leave him alone for the night. “Good night,” she walked away and closed the door quietly.

Buck was exhausted but he couldn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. What would happen tomorrow? She would take them to town, drop them off with the Americans and then what? She would just go back here? To that awful house in the middle of nowhere where she was starving and not safe? He hated to even think of such a possibility.

The walk to town was stressful and everyone kept giving them funny and suspicious looks. However, (Y/N)’s poker face and determination managed to take them to the town centre safely. It looked awful and empty – like a ghost town. She pointed at one of the soldiers patrolling the street and told them he was an American.

“Go to him,” she only said and turned around to walk away but Buck grabbed her by the sleeve of her coat and Bill hissed at him. Buck didn’t listen to that.

“What about you?” Buck asked her and her eyes widened.

“What do you mean? I don’t want him to see me,” she explained.

“You’re just going back home now?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“No,” Buck shook his head. “You’re coming with us.”

“What are you doing, Gale?” Bill asked, irritated.

“She deserves a warm meal at least,” Buck insisted and kept a tight grip on (Y/N)’s sleeve as they all approached the suspicious soldier.

They lifted their hands up and explained who they were. Their accents and believable numbers of their units made the patrolling soldier less hostile. But then he laid his eyes on the girl.

“And her?” He asked.

“She’s with us. She helped us,” Buck told him.

“I know her. She lives in this town,” the soldier squinted his eyes at (Y/N) and she took a deep breath in. “She’s German.”

“Yes, she helped us last night. We wouldn’t be here if it was not for her,” Buck repeated. “Listen, I just want her to eat something warm, alright?”

The soldier called for a few other men who came quickly after and had a short and quiet discussion. Eventually they nodded their heads at them and led them inside of a building full of soldiers. They all looked up curiously and suspiciously.

Bill left Buck’s side quickly to talk to the men stationed there. But Buck didn’t leave (Y/N)’s side as he felt he had to look after her in this place. They were given a proper, warm meal and they sat by the table in the corner. She was eating fast and with shaky hands like a starving child given food after a long while. Buck’s heart broke and he reached his hand out to hold one of her cold ones. She looked up, scared, and he smiled softly.

“Slow down,” he only whispered.

“The women here are nothing special,” one of the men sitting by the table nearby commented. “You should have seen the French ones,” he whistled.

Buck didn’t react to that as his jaw clenched. (Y/N) ignored that comment, too, but her eyes were saddened.

When she was done with her meal, Buck approached the man in charge of the unit and asked if they could give her a few cans of food and some other supplies. The man did not want to agree.

“We’re short on them ourselves, Major Cleven,” he explained.

“Yes, sir, I understand, sir. But she lives alone in the middle of nowhere. Her brother is dead, her father most likely, too. She helped us. She’s a good woman, sir,” Buck tried to convince him.

“There is no doubt about that, son. I’m sorry. She’s not the first and not the last good woman suffering in this war.”

Buck felt defeated and helpless when he approached (Y/N) who was already preparing to leave.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t convince him to give you supplies,” he admitted, ashamed of himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine,” she tried to assure him and squeezed his arm. “You’re a good man,” she added. “Thank you for the meal… And the kindness.”

“I should be the one thanking you more,” he couldn’t help himself and he fixed her ruffled hair. Everything about her was screaming inside of him to help her, to take care of her. But he couldn’t and it was killing him. “I will never forget you, German girl.”

“And I will never forget you, Major Cleven,” she smiled and he could only watch her walk away, approaching the small road leading back to the forest.

If Bill hadn’t been there with him, he would have started thinking that she was nothing but a forest fairy he had imagined. After all he was in a land of fairytales.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[ace-malarky]

Golden Years

It's a writing share Thursday I have decided so have some of the Feral family and Llinos being a Whole Badass bc I wanted to explore some Fun lineage powers

~~

 The building was a burnt-out husk, but Tamhas could imagine what it might have looked like in its heyday.

 He almost remembered it, actually.

 “This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” Tadg asked, echoing Tamhas’ thought.

 “Like a memory,” Tamhas agreed. “But I don’t…” He stiffened, ears twitching as he heard something.

 Tadg stopped a second later, tilting his head towards the old building.

 There was someone in there.

 They exchanged a glance and tightened their respective grips on their weapons.

 “Hello?” Tadg called out.

 “Ah, boys, you came!” Tilde stepped out through what once would have been the building’s main doors. “How delightful.”

 “Where is she?” Tamhas asked. “Where’s Llinos?”

 The human smiled. “All in good time, boys. Let me show you around first. It has been a long time since you stepped foot in here, isn’t it?” She looked back up at the ruin.

 Tamhas looked up at the structure, taking in the skeletal remains of the upper floors, the roof beyond them gone. It would have been grand, once.

 “This is our home?” Tadg asked. “I remember… burning. Maybe.” He glanced at Tamhas.

 Tamhas shrugged. They followed Tilde inside the burnt walls.

 “That was a nasty business. All in search of a legend.”

 “What do you know of it?” Tamhas trailed behind Tadg, keeping a careful distance from Tilde.

 The walls were scorched black and bare, and the ceiling was broken through in places, letting the stars shine through. There was nothing left but ash. Either everything had burnt or been stolen.

 “All in good time,” Tilde repeated. She led them without pausing through the corridors towards the back of the building. Of the mansion.

 There was a door that had not burned. It wasn’t even marked.

 Tilde knocked at it, and the door swung open. She turned to the twins and beckoned them to enter first.

 “Is Llinos in there?” Tamhas asked. He sniffed at the air, but all he could smell was ash, somehow. Still, after all these years.

 “All your questions will be answered,” Tilde replied. “But please, enter.”

 Tamhas fought to keep his ears from going back. His tail twitched against his legs.

 “Don’t keep him waiting.”

 He pressed up against Tadg’s side.

 The room beyond the door was large, opening up far more than either of them expected. There weren’t any windows, and the ceiling was intact. There were paintings along the walls, of people both human and fox-bonded. Some of them looked familiar, in that they shared features with each other. With Tamhas and Llinos and Tadg, more so the ones that were simply human. Tamhas saw his eyes, saw Llinos’ courtesy smile, saw Tadg’s grin.

The floor was polished wood, and a rug had been pushed to the side to reveal an inset block of white marble. Beyond it was a desk, and against the desk leant a cloaked figure.

 “My, you’ve certainly grown since I last saw you. Such is the passage of time, I suppose.”

 “Who are you?” Tamhas asked.

 “And where’s Llinos?” Tadg scanned the room, leaning as if to see around the figure.

 “I remember this place in its golden years,” the figure said, ignoring their questions. “Or – well, I remember the stories of it. They were failing already when I was young, and when you two were boys – well.” He shrugged, spreading his gloved hands wide. “But you can help me restore all that. I just need one thing from you.”

 Tadg pulled free his short sword. “Where is our sister?”

 He laughed. “You know, I have no idea. I really thought she’d be here by now!” He stood up. “I hope she hasn’t been too badly waylaid. Otherwise, this really isn’t the family reunion I had thought it might be.”

 “What are you talking about? The rest of our family’s… dead.”

 “Open the vault, boys.” The figure touched a foot to the marble. “One of you should be able to. Then we’ll see about that claim of yours.”

 Tamhas stared at his foot. It was more of a paw, really, covered in white fur. “You’re – like us?”

 “Open the vault, boys.”

 Tamhas let out a strangled yelp as Tilde grabbed his arm, twisting it back and pulling him off-kilter before he could do anything.

 Tadg whirled to face her, short sword raised, but she had a dagger at Tamhas’ throat.

 “Do as he says,” Tilde says, her voice silky in Tamhas’ ear.

 “Alright, alright!” Tadg set his sword on the ground, crouching to examine the slab of stone.

 There were no markings on it.

 Tadg pressed a hand to it, trying to find a seam. Nothing. “I… I don’t know how.”

 “How many tails have you?” The figure stalked forward.

 “What? Just the one.” Tadg looked up at him.

 The figure was wearing a mask under the hood of his cloak, but his eyes glittered faintly red through it.

 “Useless.” He kicked Tadg in the side, the force sending him tumbling across the floor until he fetched up against the wall. “You.” He pointed at Tamhas. “Open it.”

 Tilde let go of him.

 “Tadg–” Tamhas started towards his brother.

 “The vault first.” The figure latched his hand about Tamhas’ wrist.

 He was smaller, but as Tamhas took another look at Tadg – he was still conscious, trying to push himself up to sitting, hand at his ribs – the figure forcibly yanked him onto the marble.

 “Fine!” Tamhas dropped to his knees.

 He pressed both hands into the stone. There was nothing to it. It was a block of stone, nothing more. Barely even an edge where the wood stopped around it.

 “Come on,” Tamhas hissed at it.

 “Step away from my brother.” Her voice was a hoarse snarl, something animal and furious in it.

 Tilde gasped behind him.

 “Well, well, well… you finally made it.”

 Tamhas chanced a glance over his shoulder.

 Llinos had bonded since the last time he’d seen her. Her fur was more of a russet than her hair had been, her throat creamy white against the battered brown of her leather armour. Her armour was scarred and smeared with blood, but she was standing steady. Her ears were flattened back, her teeth bared in a snarl, and she had an arrow trained on the cloaked man’s chest.

 “I mean it. Step away.”

 Kaua and Jasper stepped into the room around her. Jasper went straight to Tadg, while Kaua stayed near Llinos, eyes on Tilde.

 The figure put his food down on Tamhas’ hand, pinning him there. “Or what, Llinos?” He applied pressure and Tamhas hissed out a curse, wrapping his other hand about his ankle. “You’re hardly going to kill–”

 Llinos shifted her hand minutely and fired. “Get fucked.”

 He stumbled back, not quite reaching the desk before he fell to the ground.

 Kaua charged to meet Tilde before she could turn on Tamhas, sweeping up her sword in a vicious attack.

 “Tamhas?” Llinos took another arrow from the quiver strapped to her leg. “You alright?”

 Tamhas flexed his hand. “Yes. But Tadg–” He twisted to look over at his twin.

 Jasper had him sitting upright, carefully feeling for injuries. Tadg gave Tamhas a thumbs up, even as he winced.

 Llinos stalked forward.

 Tamhas got to his feet, falling in beside her. “They said they had you, that if we didn’t come out here, they’d hurt you.”

 The figure was struggling, one hand on the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. “You missed,” he said.

 “I never miss,” Llinos pushed back his hood, pulling off his mask.

 He was another fox feral, mostly white with black ears and black markings around his eyes, which were dark blue with an encroaching red rim. There were fainter black markings across his head, disappearing under the collar of his cloak.

 “Uncle Domhnall?” Llinos froze.

 “Hello, niece.” He smiled. “How nice to see you again.”

 “We have – I thought everyone else was dead? They all died?” Tamhas looked at Llinos.

 “I thought so too.” She threw his mask away. “What the fuck.”

 “The family was fading, you wouldn’t understand. The power, the influence they used to have–”

 “So you burnt them all?” Llinos placed a foot on his stomach, keeping him on the floor.

 “I was trying to get into the vault.”

 “It’s locked to us for a reason,” Llinos snarled.

 Tamhas felt his fur reacting like static. It felt like there was a thunderstorm coming, but there were just Llinos beside him.

 As he watched, her single tail unfurled. Eight more formed like crackling spectres.

 “Llinos?”

 “You can open it!” Domhnall said, his eyes wide. “Bring back the golden years for us, Llinos!”

 The light in the room went.

 Kaua swore.

 Llinos was lined with lightning, her spectral tails like a banner behind her. She leant down to place a hand on the arrow sticking out of Domhnall’s shoulder.

 Tamhas reached out to her, unsure what he could even do to stop her. Unsure if he very much wanted to.

 “Those years are gone, uncle. They’re in the ground with the rest of our family.”

 A spark ran down the arrow. Domhnall cried out and went limp.

 Llinos’ spectral tails vanished, and they were left in darkness.

 “Fuck that was hot,” Kaua muttered.

 Tadg snorted and then hissed at the pain.

 “You really had to take out the light,” Jasper said, sighing.

 “Bite me, catboy, you have night vision.”

 “I don’t,” Kaua said. “I don’t think our friend here does, either.”

 There was a groan from Tilde.

 “He’s not… dead, is he?” Tamhas asked.

 Fire flared up from the edge of the room as Jasper lit a torch.

 Domhnall was lying limp at their feet.

 “No, he’ll be fine.” Llinos checked his pulse. “He’ll just be out for a while, that’s all.”

 “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” said Tadg as Jasper helped him over.

 “God, you’re all still taller, this is ridiculous.”

 “I told you there wasn’t any height difference.” Jasper laughed at her.

 Tamhas stepped around to stand on Tadg’s other side, putting some space between himself and Llinos.

 “What about this one?” Kaua asked.

 Tilde was on her knees in front of Kaua, sporting a swelling bruise about one eye and clutching at her wrist.

 “She was the one that’s been in contact with us. She said you were in danger,” Tamhas said.

 “Probably been spying on us for a while.”

 Jasper frowned at her, tilting his head almost as if trying to remember her.

 “Oh, she’ll have some answers for us as well then.” Llinos smiled, all teeth and hard eyes.

 “Fuck I’m going to marry you some day.”

 “You still haven’t?”

 Jasper groaned. “I’m trying.”

 “Try harder.” Tadg elbowed him and smirked.

 “Do you know what he meant by the golden years?” Tamhas asked. He tried not to stare at the space where Llinos’ spectral tails had been.

 Llinos shrugged. “Old and rich family. It’s always better for them in the Old Days. Before anyone alive remembers.”

 Tamhas looked down at the stone. “We’re not opening that, are we?”

 Llinos snorted. “I wouldn’t know how. Probably best left locked.”

 “Come on.” Kaua hefted the unconscious woman. “You can take him.”

 Tamhas glanced at Tadg, who was only slightly leaning on Jasper, and stooped to pick up their… their uncle. Llinos ducked under his other arm and offered Tamhas a slight smile.

 Tamhas glanced back once at the vault. Yeah. Probably better not.

[doctorstarinken]

Def Jam, Red Carpets, General Mills, and Studio Keys

My days usually belong to me. Even while on a project, my schedule for the most part is mine. I've freelanced long enough to know that I am very useless for any professional setting before 10am.

The last eight months have been a constant roll from project to project and I finally had some downtime during the last two weeks. Worst two weeks of 2024 so far. There is a deep restlessness in my system that cannot be tamed. No amount of therapy, religion, love, philosophy, ladder climbing, weed, alcohol, shrooms, sex, vacations, cortados, FIFA, i.a. has been able to quell it.

Perhaps god can? But my younger self's relationship with god featured exclusively around my ability to "bring the presence of god down during service." A fucked up thing to tell a young kid who already runs with an already over-inflated sense of worth.

Surely I can music for music's sake. Maybe when I'm old and very grey. Music has unfortunately never been for music's sake for me and I've always tied some sort tangible external outcome at the end of it whether it is "calling the holy spirit during service," a recital, jury, audition, performance, recording session, et al.

I'm not saying I don't enjoy it, I do. My mentor once mentioned that I probably feel for my craft deeper than how I feel for my wife. I think she would probably agree as she says that I'm obsessed. But how does one turn off an over active imagination that is now super-charged and optimized?

I've even started working out and honestly... I'm kinda feeling myself. I haven't felt and looked this toned since high school and my first two years in NYC. I'm not turning into a gym bro or anything and honestly the smell of multiple sweating humans around rubber, plastic, and metal is fucking nauseating. I've mainly started getting active as a means to sort of quell my mind.

Ya... that shit doesn't work. It maybe works for like the first 20 minutes post workout. I've tried high intensity things and cardio as well... it doesn't work and truth be told, I'm much to scared to play any sport in fear of risking a hand injury. Never mind pain. Imagine I can't actually play anything bc of broken hands/wrists. That doesn't bode well for anyone involved.

There's nothing wrong with feeling my best when I'm on a project that I care about. That is a blessing. Whether it is a film score or something as tedious as recording and editing an audiobook, there is something about my relationship with sound and my ability to manipulate it to be optimized that makes every part of my being locked in. That sort of hyperfocus in flow mode is addicting. The praise and admiration received after a project is finished is also addicting despite my best efforts to feign.

But mainly it is looking at a blank session, over populating it with any and every idea, dialing it back, finessing it, export, email, repeat. It is this rhythm where this restlessness is quelled.

All of this to say... someone please give me a large project to work on please.

[1kook]

commercial break ; NINE

this is part of my netflix & chill series!

SUMMARY “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” WARNING angst with implied smut at the end!!, flashbacks, low self esteem, alcohol consumption, jk is (implied) a virgin in this, there’s a lil fondling by oc u know the usual  MISC they r soulmates <3, our queen doyeon returns, i tried to use symbolism👁 in the dialogue so yes everything drunk oc says has a meaning hehe RATING m bc alcohol WC 2.2k

NOTES i said once a long time ago that n&c couple were prolly at the same party once but didn't realize so hERE WE GO ! its not proofread bc um. yeah<3

Homecoming week. 

Jungkook doesn’t even think his university’s football team is good, but he had read somewhere that part of the college experience is obnoxiously supporting this team all four years. And well. Jungkook wants to fit in. Frankly, Jungkook feels a little dumb having accepted this invitation from Kim Taehyung from his first-year writing class. He’s only known the man a solid four weeks, probably won’t know him this well once Taehyung finds real friends, ones who suit his outgoing personality, and decides Jungkook is too boring, but Jungkook will make the best of it while he can because, again, he wants to fit in. Badly. It’ll be different this time, he had told himself while getting ready. You won’t be awkward anymore. You’ll make friends. 

And then it’s nearing midnight and Jungkook has spoken to a whopping two people at this party of over a hundred. Not including Taehyung, it’s down to one. Even that had only been to ask where the bathroom was. He feels severely out of place, like he’s both too large and too small to be in this area, to be at this party, so he shuffles into the kitchen when he hears them call for another match of beer pong. He’s actually pretty good at the game, has refined his skills at get togethers with his older cousins. But it’s not like anyone here wants to be Jungkook’s partner anyway. Or even knows who he is for that matter. 

Taehyung had bumped into him a little past ten, had had two girls clinging to his sides when he had greeted Jungkook. One of them had almost looked tempted, Jungkook wanted to believe, brushing her hand against his arm. But he didn’t act quick enough— what would he even have done? what did he even want? —and Taehyung disappeared with both girls soon after, leaving Jungkook by himself once more. 

The kitchen is empty, the drinks long since having migrated to the living area of this huge frat. With a defeated sigh, Jungkook sinks back against one of the counters, setting his lukewarm cup of beer down beside him. He’s buzzed, drank in a feeble attempt to ‘lose himself’ as all the movies claimed. But now all he can feel is a pounding headache threatening to consume him. He doesn’t even like drinking— why did he drink this much? 

He should go home. 

Events like this, parties like this— they weren’t meant for someone like Jungkook. He was too quiet, too shy to let loose like everyone else. He doesn’t do well in social situations, or at least not as well as his therapist had told him he would. He hesitates too much, never speaks when he needs to. Haerim from his freshman basics class had even said so. “You’re quiet, huh,” she had smiled, and when her notebook had touched his elbow, he flinched. She didn’t take it to heart. Just like Taehyung wouldn’t if he left right now. They know how he is. He doesn’t belong here. These types of parties were made for outgoing people, people who lived on the edge, people who weren’t trapped in their own thoughts all the time, people like—

Like the girl who stumbles through the doorway now. “Woooo,” she slurs, and then promptly faceplants into the dirty tile of the kitchen, the same tile littered with sticky footprints and random debris. He can’t even imagine what else is on the floor of a frat house mid-party. Jungkook flinches at the sound of her knee hitting the ground, before rushing over to help her up. 

She’s a giggling mess, eyes half shut by the time Jungkook gets her into a seated position. “Are you okay?” he flounders, hand on her shoulder when she wobbles again, nearly falls back down. 

“Just peachy,” she sings, flashing him a sloppy thumbs up. Her neck isn’t doing a particularly good job of holding her head up and when Jungkook places a hand on the back of her head, she leans into it, blissful smile on her face. She’s really pretty, it makes Jungkook’s cheeks burn when she aims it at him next. “Pucca loves Garu,” she lets him know, eyes finally fluttering open. “He’s a pretty boy.”

Jungkook blinks. He has no idea what you’re talking about. “Huh?” he stutters, glancing back at the bar stool by the counter instead. It’s probably infinitely times better than the sticky tile beneath your bare legs. “I’m gonna stand you up,” he tells you, taking your loud cackle as a sign that you’re okay with it. Jungkook’s been working out all summer, so you’re not heavy in the slightest, arms thrown around his shoulders while he slips his own around your back. Your proximity leaves him drowning in your scent. 

The giggles don’t subside when he sits you down, not even when he begins opening random cabinets in search of a glass to get you some water. He’s had his fair share of experiences looking after drunk people, so he has a pretty good idea of what to do now. However, your sudden bout of commentary certainly doesn’t make it easier. “Isn’t it, like, super cool how the sun and the moon are, like—“ a hiccup, Jungkook settles on tap water “tooootally different beings, but, like— they, like, both maintain the earth?” Your hand reaches for his forearm when he returns, gives him this little squeeze in your excitement. “Like— Like they both have to, like— work together? To keep it perfect, y’know?” 

Jungkook pushes the water into your hands. You’ve got this sparkly sheen to your eyes, the one that most people get after one too many drinks, but it’s accompanied by this childlike wonder that leaves Jungkook breathless when you meet his gaze. “Yeah,” he says quietly. You beam. It’s blinding. So blinding that Jungkook promptly looks away, nudging the cup in your hands. “You need to drink this.”

You frown. “Boooo, so boring,” you huff. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t heard before, but it is a little disheartening to hear it from a stranger. He stamps the feeling down, pursing his lips as he gives up on letting you drink yourself. The cup is swiped from your hand and Jungkook tasks himself with making you drink it instead. And of course, like all wasted young adults, you put up a fight. “Ew, what is that?” you spit. 

Jungkook sighs. “Water.” 

At his defeated tone, the exaggerated grimace slips off your face, replaced with a rather solemn expression instead. Jungkook tries to take advantage of it and pushes the cup against your lip again, but all he really accomplishes is sloshing it down the front of your dress. You don’t yelp, but he does. “I’m so sorry,” he panics, sliding the sleeve of his shirt down around his thumb to wipe your chin. 

You let him, head tilted curiously to the side. Jungkook tries to ignore your analytical gaze until: “you’re cute,” you announce, and abruptly send him into shock. 

He recoils, face a blazing mess. “I’m—“ he chokes, swallowing when you wipe your hand down your own chest, leave a glistening layer of water over your sternum and down between your breasts. 

“Cute,” you repeat, downing the glass he had been trying to coax into you like it’s nothing now. With it gone, you don’t waste any time, throwing your hands around his shoulders, fingers brushing through the hair at the base of his neck. You pull him close, so close in fact, that he ends up having to hold the back of your chair to keep from accidentally crushing you with his weight. “Your name, pretty boy?” 

He can’t think. You’re so drunk and smell so good and are just so pretty— his brain short circuits. “Um I’m, uh, Jeon J—“

“Jeon,” you repeat, silly smile back on your face. You’re not technically wrong, so he nods along with a blush high on his cheeks. “Well, Jeon,” you purr, but you’re still so drunk, eyelids fluttering in a rather funny way. “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?”

Jungkook doesn’t even know what that means, and honestly, he doesn’t really hear you over the thundering of his own heart and the bass in the other room. “Um, but you’re really…” he stammers, leaning back but a finger loops around one of his curls and he gasps when you pull at it. “You’re drunk,” he rushes out, lower lip trembling when your nose knocks against his. 

A soft hum, the sound sending electricity down his spine when you cup his cheek. “But don’t you think I’m pretty?” you murmur, eyes flickering to his mouth. 

“Yes,“ he chokes out, “you’re a very, very pretty girl. But I really shouldn’t—“

“Hey,” you shush, tilting his head just the slightest. Jungkook has never had a girl touch him like this, has never even touched a girl before either, but, well. He really wants to kiss you. And that’s saying a lot considering Jungkook has never kissed anyone before. 

Despite how good it feels, he knows you’re still really drunk. It’s with a decisive huff that he pushes away, hands on your waist to keep you from touching up on him any further. You’re not that strong anyway. And then he’s met with the biggest pout he’s ever seen, an absolutely distraught look on your face. 

Something in him says you’ll cry if he doesn’t explain himself soon, so he launches into it right away. “You’re very pretty,” he says, almost laughing at the way your entire face lights up immediately. “But you’re very drunk.” You huff. “You deserve to be treated like a queen.” Mostly regurgitating something he heard in a motivational video. 

It works. Eventually, you stop being fussy in his arms and settle with a frown. “You’re too nice,” you grumble, forehead on the countertop. He doesn’t see how it’s much better than the floor but he lets you be. “You got a girlfriend, don’t you?” 

At that, Jungkook laughs. “No,” he reassures you, hesitates, and then gently pats your back. Jungkook actually feels you melt under his touch. That sultry look is gone, replaced with this rather tranquil look that he doesn’t quite understand. 

“That was pretty,” you murmur, but Jungkook doesn’t quite hear. 

“What was that?” he asks.

“I said your smile was pre—“

“There you are!” someone hollers from the kitchen doorway, the shrill tone of their voice making both you and Jungkook jump. When he turns around, he’s met with the sight of a rather tall girl angrily stomping your way, eyes a blazing fire, fists clenched by her side. Jungkook realizes only a second too late that she’s looking at him. “Get off of her, you sweaty city-owned dumpster,” she hisses, using the strength of three football players to push Jungkook away. “You make me sick—“

“Doyeonie,” you beam, launching yourself into the angry girl’s arms. Ah. The Help had arrived. 

Said angry girl (Doyeonie?) is still using every mash-up of words possible to degrade Jungkook as she hauls you into her arms, shooting daggers every step of the way. “I can’t believe you would try to take advantage of a poor girl when she’s this drunk,” she spits. 

“What?” Jungkook coughs, cheeks warm. “I wasn’t—“

“Tell it to Campus Safety when I report you, you wannabe, dollar store Rain.” Jungkook clutches his chest at the acidity of her tongue, surprised anyone could be so mean. 

All things considered, this was actually good. Someone who knew you had come to take you to safety, meaning Jungkook didn’t have to look after you anymore. When this Doyeonie turns around, he’s met with your smiley face smushed against her shoulder. 

(It’s weird. He’s a little sad to see you go.) 

“Bye, Jeon,” you giggle, hand brushing down his arm, squeezing his hand, before you’re abruptly yanked away. Jungkook manages one weak wave, cheeks lit ablaze once more when you send him a silly air kiss from the doorway, urging him to catch it. He does, and he feels really silly when he puts it in his pocket, but he can hear your laughter for a second more before he loses you. 

The last few minutes being so hectic, he decides to go home. Parties weren’t really his thing. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever go to one again. 

Until a few years later. 

“You’re, like, really pretty,” you slur, lips against his throat. Another invitation, this time, Taehyung’s birthday. His friend had practically begged him to come, knowing how Jungkook was. In the end, it had been you who had accepted on his behalf. 

“Baby, not here,” he laughs, hand on your shoulder when you try to shove your hand down his pants for the third time that night. 

Taehyung had been ecstatic to see Jungkook here. And then had quickly become annoyed when he caught the two of you making out in his storage closet an hour later. “Bro, don’t be that couple at parties,” he had groaned, locking the door behind him. 

Jungkook had laughed. “I wouldn’t know what ‘that couple’ is at parties,” he reminded him. 

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m sure your girlfriend can fill you in.”

Apparently not. You’ve been trying to kiss him for the past three minutes but keep missing because you’re so drunk. “Just one,” you beg, so pretty but so drunk. The fake lashes you’d worn today make you look like a doll, batting them his way until he’s giving in, slotting his lips against yours. You’re probably going to throw up in his bathroom when you get home, so he should make the best of your kisses now. Jungkook pushes that thought aside as he reaches a hand out to wipe at the sweat accumulating on your chest. There’s something weird about the gesture, like he’s done it before at another party. But that doesn’t make sense; he couldn't have— this is his first party with you. 

“We should, like, leave,” you whisper against his ear, fingers burying themselves in his hair; when you pull on a strand, he nearly moans. “Go home. Maybe netflix and—“ a hiccup that makes him smile “—chill?”

Jungkook kisses your temple. “Sounds good to me, pretty girl.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[plan-d-to-i]

(google translate again, yeah)

(I forgot to thank you for the last answer, I really didn't know that the drama used the music of my compatriot, it was a pleasant surprise for me)

I don't know if anyone has asked you this before, but do you think JC was good with WWX as a kid?

I mean not just their childhood, but the time of their training in Gusu.

I really love JC, and I understand perfectly well that he is the most dick in character, but I love him precisely during my studies at Gusu, I can not give any arguments that then JC was directly GOOD to WWX, but he is clearly cared a little about him and even ... worried? at least that moment after the punishment where JC helped WWX get to the room...

Yay - I'm so happy to hear about Stravinsky :)

Hahah loving jc as the dick that he is is the way to do it! go for it. :) also, sorry this was so delayed I wanted to reread the Cloud Recesses arc so it would be fresh in my mind before answering.

In terms of jc the Cloud Recesses arc is perhaps the most 'mellow' we see him aside from the Lotus Pod Extra but for me it's still impossible to find him a worthwhile person. I can already see the faults in his character that I know will only get worse as he grows older. Canonically I don't see how he would have any friends studying in the Cloud Recesses if he didn't come as a package deal w Wei Wuxian. I mean I doubt jiang cheng would have any friends without WWX period. In fact jiang cheng doesn't make any friends over the course of 13 years. He's also unable to find a wife bc of his temperament and behavior...

What we can glean about their relationship in the Cloud Recesses arc (and even the Lotus Pod Extra) is that any time WWX gets a kind word or understanding from someone, jiang cheng scoffs at it. Any time someone shits on WWX, jc is there to agree, to relish the idea of WWX being punished, and shit on him some more. He would be an immensely exhausting person to be around. He doesnt believe in WWX's ideas and ingenuity, (as NHS does for example), he doesn't believe WWX is hurt, he always assumes the worst of him, he doesn't believe LWJ might like WWX. The only thing he ever seems to believe is that WWX will dishonor YunmengJiang and that WWX should be punished. So for a kid who supposedly wants his father's approval so badly he instead constantly acts like his mother's mouthpiece/minion. He reprimands WWX like he's trying to become Madam Yu 2.0. I see jc stans all the time being like oh he had to keep WWX in check bc WWX was such a lOOooose canon, for the good of the Clan!! lol listen JFM didn't give a f...about WWX's behavior (in his letter to LQR) why are you so concerned? JFM would have preferred for jc to try & save his peers in the Xuanwu cave or at least to understand why that was the correct course of action rather than for him to just sit in front of the class in the Cloud Recesses and tell WWX off for giving LQR as good as he got, while actually still breaking the rules himself but eschewing punishment.

salt up here, quotes below :

Even when Nie Huaisang picks up on the fact that WWX is being treated unfairly by LQR, jc dismisses it and piles on WWX instead.

Nie Huaisang said, “Old Man Lan really seems like he’s coming down especially harshly on you. Every time he reprimands someone, it’s always you.” Jiang Cheng grunted. “He deserves it. What kind of answer was that? He can get away with saying that sort of nonsense at home, but he had the nerve to say it to Lan Qiren’s face. He was practically asking for the old man to kill him!”

But does WWX get away with ANYTHING in Lotus Pier? When we know he is punished constantly for EVERYTHING? This is jiang cheng fully being his mother's mouth piece. It's not something WWX would get away with, it's something jc knows JFM wouldn't mind. Which is why he's so pissed off. Which begs the question if JFM would not be upset with WWX's behavior why does jc need to criticize him? Again :

A dark expression shadowed Jiang Cheng’s face, and his voice was filled with anger. “Why are you so proud of yourself? What is there to be proud of?! Is being told to get out some amazing accomplishment? You’re making our entire clan lose face!”

and his glee at the idea that WWX will be punished leaves a bad taste in one's mouth considering how WWX was perpetually punished in Lotus Pier by jiang cheng's mother for... existing.

Jiang Cheng smiled grimly. “Now that you’ve thoroughly offended both Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren, you’re basically dead tomorrow. No one’s going to clean up your corpse either.”

and again

Without the old one, only the young one remained. This would be easy to deal with! Wei Wuxian rolled off the bed and laughed while putting on his boots. “Heaven’s charmed clouds are blessing me with shade.” Jiang Cheng was beside him polishing his sword with loving care when he decided to spill cold water over Wei Wuxian’s head. “Just wait until he gets back. You can’t escape punishment.”

Where others like NHS see value in WWX's thoughts

Nie Huaisang thought for a while. “Actually, I thought what you said was very interesting,” he said, not entirely able to hide his envy and yearning.

jc is always dismissive of WWX's ideas. These are inventions that WWX realizes. Demonic cultivation in the first conversation and The Spirit-Attraction Flag and The Compass of Evil in the second:

“Enough,” Jiang Cheng warned. “Whatever nonsense you spout, you better not head down that sort of dark road.”

-

Changing the topic, Wei Wuxian said, “If only there was something like fishing bait that could draw the water ghosts in. Or, something that could point in the direction they’re hiding, like a compass, that sort of thing.”

“Lower your head and watch the water,” Jiang Cheng said. “You’re letting your fantasies run wild again. Concentrate on looking for water ghosts like you’re supposed to.”

“Hey, mounting swords and flying was also only a fantasy once!” Wei Wuxian said.

He's also a hypocrite. Because even though he berates WWX for misbehaving, he himself breaks the rules. He drinks, he even goads WWX into buying liquor, the only difference is that he doesn't get punished for it, and he doesn't feel like coming forward and getting punished for it :

Naturally, Jiang Cheng was too embarrassed to talk about what Wei Wuxian had been up to. After all, all of them had egged him on to go and buy alcohol, and they all deserved to be punished as well. He could only speak vaguely. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s not that bad! He can walk. Wei Wuxian, why haven’t you gotten off yet?”

It's no wonder WWX is so impressed by LWJ's integrity in spite of his social status, when he's clearly used to the other dynamic :

“Lan Zhan, I really admire you,” Wei Wuxian said sincerely. “After I told you that you had to punish yourself too, you actually did it. You didn’t let yourself off at all. I can’t argue against that.”

A dynamic which is shown repeating in the Lotus Pod Extra where WWX is the only one to get punished for sunbathing, and which repeats here when Wei Wuxian here stops jiang cheng from confronting Zixuan over YanLi's honor (and jc's) and does it himself.

Zixuan :“Why don’t you ask what about her could make me satisfied?” he said in return.

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng rose. Wei Wuxian pushed him away and stepped between them, smiling coldly. “You think you’re very satisfactory? As though you have the right to be so picky!”

Zixuan: “If she’s unhappy, then let her break off the engagement! I certainly don’t cherish your wonderful disciple-sister. If you cherish her so much, why don’t you take it up with your father? Doesn’t he love you more than his own son?”

After hearing the last sentence, Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed, and Wei Wuxian was no longer able to contain his own fury. He flew at Jin Zixuan, his fist raised.

WWX takes the punishment alone. Same way he offers to do when he hurts himself falling from a tree because jc threatened him with dogs. meanwhile jc is gleeful to see him being punished.

[Wei Wuxian] was kneeling on the stretch of pebble road to which Lan Qiren had assigned him when Jiang Cheng walked over from afar and mocked him. “You’re kneeling so obediently.”

“It’s not like you don’t know I have to do this all the time.” Wei Wuxian’s voice filled with schadenfreude. “But this Jin Zixuan guy, there’s no way he hasn’t been pampered and spoiled rotten since birth. No one’s ever forced him to kneel, I’m sure of it. If he doesn’t wind up crying for mommy and daddy today, I’m not named Wei.”....

Wei Wuxian "...It’s a good thing you didn’t do anything.”

“I was going to. If you hadn’t pushed me away, the other side of Jin Zixuan’s face would be hideous too.”

“Stop it. His face is uglier for being lopsided."

WWX is happy to have spared jc from getting into trouble but jc makes the whole thing about himself anyway (like everything else ever) and is upset JFM would rush over for WWX - in his mind. Even though JFM clearly had to rush over to meet with Jin Guangshan not to coddle WWX in any way.

"Jiang Fengmian had never rushed to another clan in less than a day because of him. Regardless of whether what happened was big or small, or good or bad." Never

WWX on the other hand tries to be observant of jc's feelings and reassure him & distract him from his moods :

When Wei Wuxian saw Jiang Cheng’s melancholy expression, he thought he was still upset with what Jin Zixuan said. “You should leave. You don’t need to keep me company any longer. If Lan Wangji comes again, he’ll catch you. If you have time, you should find Jin Zixuan and watch his pitiful kneeling.”

Later in the book after nearly dying in the Xuanwu cave WWX leaves his sick bed to run after jc and comfort him after his mother's rant, even though WWX had to listen to his parents (and himself) being slandered by YZY. jc doesn't spare any thoughts for how other people might be feeling or suffering. His entire perception of the world is centered around himself. To him even WWX's greatest fear doesn't generate empathy, only amusement or later on a form of torture.

From that point onward, they made trouble everywhere together, and if they encountered a dog, Jiang Cheng would always chase it away for him, then enjoy a peal of derisive, unbridled laughter at Wei Wuxian’s expense beneath whichever tree the boy had leapt atop.

he grew up on the streets, often having to fight for food with vicious dogs. After several bites and chases, he gradually became extremely scared of all dogs, no matter the size. Jiang Cheng laughed at him because of this quite a lot of times.

This brings me to the last point. jc's resentment of WWX's interest in Lan Zhan, or in a serious friendship outside of him. I see so many ppl say that bc WWX fought he was kicked out of the Cloud Recesses early... but was he?

Jiang Cheng was somewhat taken aback. “Lan Wangji? What was he doing here? He still has the nerve to come see you again?”

“Yeah, I think his bravery is laudable if he still has the nerve to come see me. His uncle probably told him to check on me and see if I was kneeling properly.”

Jiang Cheng’s instincts were sending him ominous signals. “So were you kneeling properly?”

“I was then,” Wei Wuxian replied. “But I waited for him to walk away a bit, then took a tree branch, lowered my head, and dug out a hole in the dirt near me. It’s the pile right by your foot—there are ant tunnels there. It took me so much effort to find them. Anyway, I waited for him to turn back and see my shoulders shaking. He had to have thought I was crying, so he came back and asked. You should have seen his face when he caught sight of the ant tunnels!

“…” Jiang Cheng said, “Why don’t you just get the hell out and go back to Yunmeng? I bet he never wants to see you again.”

Thus, that evening, Wei Wuxian packed up his things, got the hell out, and went back to Yunmeng with Jiang Fengmian.

Repeatedly throught his stay in the Cloud Recesses even while NHS was observing that LWJ's behavior around WWX was strange and unique, jc was telling WWX he is hated and bothersome. When WWX wanted to apologize to LWJ jc is completely dismissive of it :

“He hates me already? I was thinking of apologizing to him,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Oh, so you want to apologize now? It’s too late!” Jiang Cheng said derisively. “He’s exactly like his uncle. He thinks you’ve been wicked ever since you were an embryo, so it’s beneath his dignity to pay you any attention.”

Later on when WWX mentioned wanting to invite LWJ to Lotus Pier jc categorically says no.

“Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

BONUS

jc also always doubts WWX. He suspects him immediately of wrongdoings. He doesn't believe that getting hit with the discipline ruler in Cloud Recesses actually hurt him until LXC confirms that WWX might take more than a few days to heal. He doesn't understand WWX is in actual trouble from the Waterborne abyss and assumes he's fooling around luckily Lan Zhan is there to rescue him:

The disciple’s lower body had already been swallowed by the black whirlpool. It spun faster and faster, and he continued to sink deeper and deeper, as though something hidden beneath the water was pulling down on his legs.

Mounted on Sandu, Jiang Cheng had risen calmly until he was about sixty meters above the whirlpool before he looked down. Filled with displeasure at what he saw, he shouted and dove down. “What are you up to now?!”

The suction force inside Lake Biling grew ever stronger. Wei Wuxian’s sword was optimized for agility, and consequently, its strength happened to fall just short, and they were nearly pulled to the surface of the lake. Wei Wuxian steadied himself and held on to Su She with both hands.

“Someone help! If I can’t pull him up soon, I’ll have to let go!” he shouted.

Suddenly, the back of Wei Wuxian’s collar tightened, and his body was lifted into the air. He twisted his neck and saw Lan Wangji holding him up with one hand.

He maintains this same mindset when he tries to whip LWJ and WWX as they're attempting to leave Lotus Pier after the ancestral hall confrontation when WWX passes out.

Is jc evil in the Cloud Recesses ? No. He's just an annoying, basic, disagreeable asshole who doesn't bring anything positive to someone like WWX. People like jc become obsessed with kind, outgoing, generous people, people who don't set boundaries on what they give and what others take in their friendships. Even though they're dependent on them for their social interactions, because who else would socialize with them willingly, they resent them in equal measure, but at the same time they wouldn't be drawn to another selfish, self centered piece of shit person like themselves.

On a personal note, even Cloud Recesses jiang cheng is someone I would exclude from any personal friend group. Friendship with him is adding a minefield of jealousies and snide comments to every interaction. Things that then others will need to compensate around because he won't compromise or empathize w issues outside of his own concerns.

Translation source : x

[recurring-polynya]

For Stuff For Renji's Birthday Prompts: 1) time travel turn back the clock nonsense, bc I'm an enabler and Karakura teens plus shithead Renruki teens has *Byakuya voice* strong comedic potential OR 2) Hisana lives but due to wacky circumstances, nobody notices Rukia's existence at the Academy... until they've graduated and Renruki have joined Squad 11. Dealer's choice! (Honestly whichever you pick, I might try writing the one you don't. I am not a writer these 2 just live in my head rent free)

Why would you make me choose between these, whyyyyyyyyyy?

To be honest, I almost did them both, but this was the second one I did, and I figured that I should probably do some other people’s prompts, and then I ran out of time. I might do you some time travel shenanigans later. (This should in no way stop you from writing these, I would flip my chips if you wrote something, let alone something based on my horrible ideas)

In any case, I couldn’t resist the second options and I have spun it out into a delightful bit of Byakuya-torture. Please enjoy!!!

Special thanks to @kaicko for helping me come up with the clerical error, because you all know me, I can’t just say “a clerical error.” 😂

Read on ao3 or ff.net

💀   💀   💀  

“How is the tea?” Aizen Sousuke asked smoothly.

The tea was excellent, but Byakuya wasn’t in the mood for Aizen’s needy attempts to ingratiate himself. “Adequate,” he replied dryly. “You said you had something to discuss with me.”

“Ah, diligent as always, Byakuya,” Aizen sighed, “always eager to get back to work. I’ll get to the point: I happened to speak with your wife recently at a fundraising event. She’s very interested in the people of the deep Rukon, and said she travels to South Rukongai frequently.”

Byakuya narrowed his eyes. “What is your point?”

“Well, I thought it was a bit of a strange occupation for a woman of your wife’s noble standing, but then Gin reminded me that she was actually from there herself, that there had been a bit of a to-do when you two married. I don’t tend to follow gossip myself--”

“I repeat, what is your point?” Byakuya gritted your teeth.

Aizen made a pissy little throat clearing noise and fiddled with a folder on his desk. “The fact is, Byakuya, your wife reminds me a great deal of a young woman who served in my squad a few years ago, whom I recalled also hailing from the Rukon. I wondered if there might be a.... connection.”

Byakuya’s shoulders stiffened. Impossible. He had put watches on all immigrants to the Seireitei. He would have reviewed anyone who came from the South 78th.

“Inuzuri Rukia,” Aizen read from his file, and Byakuya’s blood ran cold. “Shin’ou class of 2066. Unseated. Petite, like your wife. Dark hair. Very striking eyes. Unfortunately, an unremarkable shinigami. Potential for a good kidou user, but didn’t take direction well. More interested in sword combat, although she had little aptitude for it. Ah, here it is. Hometown: District 48, South Rukongai.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Byakuya said flatly. “Inuzuri is the 78th district of South Rukongai. Why would she carry a surname from a different district?”

Aizen made an exaggerated frown. “Very strange! A clerical error perhaps? Hold on a moment.” He stuck his head out of his office door and said something to the shinigami on reception duty. “Fortunately, there’s an easy way to clear this up. It’ll just be a minute.”

Byakuya gripped his teacup, unsure of how to feel. A clerical error. Class of 2066… she would have enrolled in 2060, in the middle of Hisana’s worst turn, when she had been bedridden for nearly four years. Their attention would have lapsed. It made sense.

“She does not sound like your usual recruit,” Byakuya accused. Aizen was constantly finding ways to skim the highest performers from the Academy, all the gifted children.

Aizen looked sheepish. “Ah, well, you see, there was a young man of some talent that I was eager to recruit who was… attached to her. I thought she might have some potential if properly guided, but it never panned out.”

Aizen’s good deed was suddenly beginning to make sense. The girl had transferred out and taken Aizen’s prize with her. He wanted Byakuya to go fetch her away in hopes that the talented one would come home. Byakuya actually felt much better now that he’d identified Aizen’s ulterior motive, and further, that it had more to do with his own petty recruiting schemes than Byakuya’s family (specifically, Byakuya’s wife).

There was a knock at the office door, and upon being bid entry, a young woman walked in. Although indeed petite and dark-haired, she looked nothing like Hisana, and Byakuya remarked as much.

“Oh, no, this is my Seventh Seat!” Aizen chuckled. “Miss Hinamori, you were friends with Inuzuri Rukia, isn’t that correct?”

The young woman’s eyes had gone wide when she recognized Byakuya. “Er, yes, sir,” she said, her eyes darting between the two captains. “We shared a room while she served here.”

“Do you happen to remember what district she was from?” Aizen asked in an overly friendly manner.

“Oh, sure, it was South 78,” Hinamori replied. “Inuzuri, of course.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know all the outermost ones,” Aizen said in his goofy voice again. “Her paperwork says 48.”

Hinamori’s brow furrowed for a moment and then her face brightened. “She and Abarai had very heavy accents when they first came to the Academy, and used a lot of deep Rukongai language quirks. I don’t remember all of it, but they both used to use ‘shichi’ instead of ‘nana’ for seven, especially when referring to their district. They weren’t very fond of their home district. I wonder if the registrar misheard.”

“Well, there you go!” Aizen said, slapping his hands on his desk. “A very logical explanation!”

Hinamori beamed.

Byakuya found Aizen’s need to be liked by his subordinates very unprofessional and off-putting, but he tried to push it aside. He was trying not to be too eager, but this was probably the best lead he’d had on Hisana’s sister in all the years they had been searching. “Where is she now?” he grumbled.

Aizen turned his doe eyes on his fawning subordinate once more. “I don’t suppose you still keep in touch? She couldn’t have lasted very long there, they must have transferred again?”

Hinamori made a face like she didn’t want to say the answer. “I’m afraid that Kira and I had a bit of a falling out with Abarai and Inuzuri when they left. I haven’t talked to them in a few years, although we still have some mutual friends. As far as I know, though, they’re both still at Squad Eleven. I heard they were doing fairly well there, actually.”

The room seemed to retreat around Byakuya. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears and the reverberations of the most horrible words he could possibly think of: Squad Eleven.

---

Byakuya knew it was poor etiquette to visit another captain’s squad when the man was out, but he absolutely could not stomach the idea of discussing the matter of his wife’s sister with the Kenpachi, so he waited until Zaraki and his miniature lieutenant were sent out to go trample half of East Rukongai before visiting.

He also knew that he probably should have said something to Hisana, but he couldn’t bring himself to get his wife’s hopes up, only to dash them, should this turn out to be nothing, like so many leads before it. So, the secret sat in his stomach, heavy and acidic, jostling with the guilt of his breach of etiquette.

“Is there someone here,” he gingerly asked one of the gentlemen on gate duty, “who takes care of administrative matters for the squad?”

The man swiveled his head, which appeared to grow directly from his torso with no need for an intervening neck, to his fellow guardsman. “What?”

The other fellow had been busy trying to remove wax from his ear with a pinky. “WHAT?” he shouted back.

“Paperwork!” Byakuya said a little louder. “Is there an office of some sort? A person who knows what’s going on?”

He supposed he could have asked for the girl, Inuzuri, directly, but he didn’t feel… ready.

“I think he wants Ayasegawa,” the neckless guard hazarded.

“WHAT?”

“I’ll be right back.”

Eventually, the burly gentleman returned. With him was a strangely elegant person with a silky curtain of hair cut severely to chin length and piercing violet eyes. “It really is you,” the lovely man said with a level of disdain that Byakuya almost had to admire. Before he had a chance to get offended, the man dipped into a respectful bow. “Welcome to the Eleventh, Captain Kuchiki. Fifth Seat Ayasegawa at your service. What in Soul Society can I possibly do for you?”

“Apologies for visiting while your captain is abroad,” Byakuya replied, not meaning a word of it.

“Oh, he’ll be very sorry to have missed you,” Ayasegawa frowned. “But I’m sure you could make it up to him later.”

Byakuya’s eye twitched. “Perhaps. I have come to enquire about a young woman whom I am told transferred to your squad three years ago.”

“Does she have a name? That might make it a little easier.”

“Inuzuri Rukia.”

Both of Ayasegawa’s eyebrows shot up, and his mouth curved into a feline grin. “Ninth Seat Inuzuri, of course!”

Byakuya blinked. “Ninth Seat? Captain Aizen told me she was middling at best.”

Ayasegawa's face suddenly went stiff. “She was not well-served at the Fifth, but she has bloomed here most beautifully. Inuzuri is my personal protege, you know.” He stared at Byakuya under hooded eyes. “What is your interest in her? Captain?”

Byakuya took a deep breath through his nose. “My wife is also from Inuzuri. She is trying to locate someone she knew there. It is possible this Rukia is that someone.”

Ayasegawa frowned. “Well, I can introduce you, if you like. I should warn you, though, Rukia doesn’t have a lot of lost love for her hometown.”

“My understanding is that there isn’t much to love about it.”

“Mmm,” Ayasegawa agreed. “Well, come along, let’s go find her.” He concentrated for a moment, clearly trying to find her reiatsu. She must be a woman of some power, after all. “Ugh! She and Abarai are at it again! Every day!”

Byakuya swallowed stiffly.

“Well come on! She’s out at the training fields, clobbering our Tenth Seat, yet again.”

Oh. That kind of “going at it.”

Ayasegawa was shaking his head. “The two of them are literally an unstoppable force and an immovable object.”

“Abarai was also at the Fifth?,” Byakuya probed cautiously. “I was told they were close.”

“Of course they’re close!” Ayasegawa scoffed. “They’re partners!” He thought for a moment. “Abarai is from the 78th as well, you know. If Rukia turns out to not be your girl, perhaps one or the other of them knew the person you’re looking for. Abarai is one of those people who just… knows everyone. He’s the personable half of the pair.”

“‘Partners’?” Byakuya echoed. “What… kind of partners?”

Ayasegawa stared back at him like he was insane. “Partners.”

This path of inquiry clearly wasn’t going to get him anywhere, but wasn’t particularly relevant, either. “I did not think kidou-type zanpakutou were permitted in the Eleventh,” Byakuya sniffed. “Aizen’s records indicated Inuzuri wields an ice-and-snow type.”

Ayasegawa gave a little shrug. “Zanpakutou classifications are arbitrary. Obviously, if she had a bunch of showy blizzard attacks like Matsumoto’s little prodigy friend, it would be a no-go. Rukia can take the blade of her sword down to sub-zero temperatures. She has a weapon-shattering attack and she doesn’t feel pain when she’s fighting. It’s fundamentally no different than a zanpakutou so massive that only the wielder can lift it, or a whip sword that’s controlled with one’s reiatsu.”

This sounded like a quibble to Byakuya, but it’s not like he had come to the Eleventh looking for sound logic.

“She’s incredibly fast, probably the fastest person in the Eleventh, although no one’s really sure what Yachiru’s top speed is,” Ayasegawa continued on. He glanced at Byakuya slyly. “I hear you are very fast.”

“You have heard correctly.”

“That’s why Abarai can’t beat her. If he could land one really hard hit on her, she’d go down, but he’s not fast enough and she’s just too agile. He’s my partner’s protege, you see, so I have to take their little scraps very personally.”

How did this man talk so much?

“What did you say your wife’s relationship was to her again?”

“I did not.”

“Ah, right. Oops, look out!” Ayasegawa abruptly dove to one side as a giant mass of shihakushou and pink hair and what might be a sword came crashing through the split rail fence surrounding the training field.

Byakuya was not in the habit of ducking, so he merely plunged the force of his reiatsu down into the earth like a piton. It was almost, but not entirely sufficient. Byakuya gritted his teeth as he was driven back, dirt piling up behind his heels as he skidded backwards.

When they finally came to a halt, Byakuya looked down at the meaty youth lying at his feet. This must be the infamous Abarai, although he certainly didn’t look like one of Aizen’s usual simpering overachievers. The first thing Byakuya observed was the eye makeup. Most shinigami applied at least a little eyeliner, on grounds of tradition, but few bothered to blacken the entire eye socket, as in the skeletal facepaint of old. The second thing Byakuya noticed were the tattoos painted across his forehead and neck. They were black and spikey and horrible. The third thing was the hair, which was bright pink and spikey, and utterly at odds with the makeup and tattoos. The fourth thing was the big, sheepish grin, which honestly just tied the whole hideous tableau together.

Byakuya glared down at the lout, and in a moment of pettiness, flared his reiatsu to a level that should have sent blood spurting out of his ears.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to do much to someone who has a weekly sparring slot with the Kenpachi,” Ayasegawa commented dryly.

“Sorry ‘bout that!” the lummox cheerfully apologized as he sat up and brushed himself off. He had an Inuzuri accent so thick you could spread it on toast, an accent that Hisana tended to slip into only when she was extremely bent out of shape. Abarai snapped the sword hilt in his hand, and the tangled pile of steel on the ground neatly retracted into something that looked a little more like a weapon, if a weapon were designed by a creative and overly violent child.

“That’s a captain, you buffoon!” another voice rang out, and every muscle in Byakuya’s body locked. “Show your respects!”

The voice clearly affected Abarai as well, because he leapt to his feet, spun, and slammed into a bow. “My apologies, Captain…” his eyes glanced up and abruptly widened, “Kuchiki.”

“Greetings, Captain Kuchiki! Welcome to the Eleventh Division! I apologize very profusely for throwing Tenth Seat Abarai at you!” A second young person had come to join Abarai in his bow, and they both rose in unison, Abarai looking suddenly pale and nervous, his companion looking calm and confident.

So this was Inuzuri Rukia. She had Hisana’s voice. She had Hisana’s stature, and standing next to Abarai made her look positively childlike. She wore the same dreadful eyeblack, but the eyes that shone out of it were a variation on Hisana’s, harder and three shades more purple. The rest of the face was Hisana’s. Her hair was dark, shaved on the sides, arranged into porcupine spikes on top, although one lock hung down stubbornly between her eyes. Her ears glittered with silver piercings. At least she was free of awful tatt-- wait, no. Byakuya had missed them at first, because they were white. Abarai’s tattoos were spiky and sharp, but Inuzuri’s were graceful swirls, like ribbons wrapping lazily down her forearms. Even her reiatsu was like Hisana’s-- but instead of a cool, refreshing wintergreen, Inuzuri’s was the bone-deep cold of winter, a cold so harsh it burnt in the lungs.

There was no doubt.

This atrocious delinquent was his long-lost sister-in-law.

“Can we help you with something, sir?” Inuzuri prompted. “Abarai here’s a big fan of yours.”

“Shut up, Rukia,” Abarai managed through gritted molars.

“Inuzuri Rukia, you died as an infant thirty-six years ago and were sent to the 78th District of South Rukongai, is that correct?” Byakuya said stiffly.

Inuzuri and Abarai both bristled, a pair of mongrels raising their haunches. “That seems about right,” Inuzuri replied slowly. “My early years are a little hazy.”

“My wife, Hisana also died thirty-six years ago and was sent to Inuzuri with her infant sister,” Byakuya went on. “They were separated. My wife has been looking for her sister ever since. You… resemble her greatly.” Byakuya let the implication hang in the air. He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

There was silence for a moment. Then there was the distinct noise of a laugh that, having been held in, had escaped through someone’s nose. “Sorry! Pardon me!” Ayasegawa wheezed, clapping one hand over his mouth and looking away. “Bit of. Dust. In my throat.”

“I told you! I told you, you looked like that picture of her in the Bulletin!” Abarai was hissing.

“I thought you were lying because you thought she was pretty!” Inuzuri hissed back.

“I thought she was pretty because she looks just like you!”

“Now is really not the time, Abarai!” She cleared her throat and tried to stand up a bit taller, a futile effort. “So, uh, so what? What does that mean, if I am her sister? Does that… does that make me noble?”

A higher pitched wheezing came out of Ayasegawa. The level of impudence was extraordinary.

“I would like you to come to my home to meet her, first,” Byakuya put off making any promises. “We can discuss what comes next. As a family.”

“I’m at work right now,” Inuzuri excused.

“Inuzuri, I need to know how this pans out, you can have the afternoon off,” Ayasegawa informed her.

Inuzuri’s confidence seemed to be draining out of her. She took a tiny step closer to Abarai and groped for his hand. “I’m bringing Renji,” she declared.

“Is he compulsory?” Byakuya asked. Inuzuri was absurd looking too, but at least she was small.

“He’s my family,” Inuzuri insisted.

Byakuya’s brows furrowed. This could prove problematic. “In any sort of legally binding sense?”

“We’re engaged!” Inuzuri announced.

“We are?” Abarai goggled.

“I told you I’d marry you if you could ever manage to beat me in a fight! What else would you call that?” Rukia hissed at him in a voice that was still, unfortunately, perfectly audible.

“I’ve been trying every day, and honestly, Rukia, it’s not looking good for me!”

“Can you just go with it for once, instead of arguing with me every time?”

“If you want to leave and never tell anyone you found her,” Ayasegawa put in, “I am very bribable.”

Byakuya was sorely tempted.

---

End note: To further explain the number mix-up, as I understand it “seven” in Japanese can either be said as “nana” or “shichi”. People usually say “nana” for two reasons-- 1) to avoid confusion with 4 (”shi”, although you can also say “yon”) and because “shi” is a homophone for death. Given how shitty the districts in the 70s are, I rather liked the idea that they residents use the “shichi” pronunciation as a bit of gallows humor. (And if you don’t have a rude nickname for the town you grew up in, well, congrats for not growing up somewhere shitty)

I don’t actually speak Japanese, tho, so forgive me if this is all nonsense. 😁

[wickedpact]

A ranking of all the TTT stories in order of how much I liked them.

(Oh god this is so long)

1 My Mother's Axe

BABY ANDYYYYYYYYYYYY. Honestly this one had the trifecta of developing a character's motivations, developing a character's backstory, & developing their personality. The story starting out with Andy teaching Nile to use the axe was so charming and fun, and you could feel that chemistry they had in Opening Fire, the way they teased and bickered with each other so naturally. I loved the wedge between them on the subject of the axe, how Nile was perhaps a little too young to understand Andy's feelings about whether or not its the 'same' axe. I also love how the axe is obviously the symbol of the franchise and hugely important, but you never get a sense of exactly how important it is to Andy until you read the story.

I love the entire Ship of Theseus theme, and how it feels so natural that for Andy she has to get attached to the idea of things rather than the things themselves because she'll always outlive the things themselves-- the axe is symbolically her mom's axe, even if physically it isn't. And I love how she clearly clings to that concept so tightly. "This is the labrys she held in her hands...." IT GETS ME.

And the fact that this sense of BELONGING, of FAMILY, of CULTURE is so important to Andy that she clings to it (figuratively and literally) with both hands. And of course it's important to her, she spent so long alone that the woman doesn't even remember her birth name. That axe (or the idea of that axe) is all she has left of her mother and that family/culture she was born into.

PLUS on that note I love how Andy doesn't remember if her mom was her actual biological mother, but it doesn't matter to her. This woman was her mother in all the ways that counted. And how her mom BETRAYED AND KILLED Andy but Andy loved her so much that she avenged her and carried her axe for thousands of years. THOUSANDS OF YEARS!!!!!!

I also loved how the story transcends the timeline of the whole franchise and seeing Andy through the years. Loved seeing her with the varying squads and with varying axes. Also baby Andy was so cute. It was cool seeing her so young. like holy fuck. Andromache The Scythian, Immortal Warrior (but smol). Love that.

Also I think this one is one of the few ttt stories that doesn't suffer from length problems.

tldr: goddammit greg you've done it again.

2 Zanzibar and Other Harbors

Zanzibar my beloved. I've said before, but it's downright comedic how little regard there was for Joe and Nicky's character designs in this story. The same person who does the colors for the regular comic did the colors for this one too, and you can tell, every panel of this story was Beautiful.

Ik there was A Lot of criticism of this one (lmao @ how the fandom had no idea what was to come) but I thought a lot of The Discourse was a bit dramatic. I did think Nicky came off as a little oblivious to Joe's feelings in this story, but I've said before, I honestly think that was a 'tone not translating' thing. It felt like Nicky was nagging Joe for [checks notes] saving innocent people, but Joe was so amused by Nicky's complaints I really do think it was supposed to come off as teasing.

Plus I know the 'Joe running off into danger and Nicky reluctantly following' dynamic wasn't popular (I'm a pretty meh on it meself) but I did love how Joe's impulsiveness (if you want to call it that) was interpreted as heroism and not hot-hotheadedness. All of the examples Nicky and Joe talked about included Joe explicitly saving people. (and it also took A Lot for the nazi to actually provoke Joe).

I also feel like their characterization here was closest to the movie canon-- the bit where they hear the woman scream and Joe goes running in to save her while Nicky swoops in on Joe's heels to comfort her while Joe and the nazi were fighting reminds me of the train car scene. Joe had suggested First that they go find Nile because she needed to be protected, and Nicky later added that Nile probably also needed emotional support. Similar reactions.

But it was So Good, the themes of queer community and the enduring nature of queer culture are Not themes you see in media that often and it was such a delight how it was done. Also it's one of the few more modern TTT stories that has a completely valid excuse for taking place when it did. Chef's kiss.

3 Passchendaele

I love the Duality between seeing baby Andy and then seeing Mama Andy in the very next issue. This story doesn't have a ton of meat to it, but the entire concept of Andy adopting a war orphan straight off the battlefield PLUCKS MY TENDER LITTLE HEARTSTRINGS, and I think it's especially poignant for comic!Andy. I think most people wouldn't think twice about movie!Andy doing something like that but comic Andy is so hardened and almost cruel sometimes, and seeing that even for her the world hasn't beaten all of the compassion from her yet is SO!!!!!!! this woman contains MULTITUDES okay, she's violent and angry and tired and Done but she's also so kind and compassionate and THE STRENGTH OF HER!!!!! Also the idea of her and Yitzhak co-raising a kid together is so damn cute. It was #mysterious pre-Yitzhak-story but now it's cute. holy fuck. It's cute.

& the headbonk panel of her and Zeus lives in my heart. anyways.

4 Many Happy Returns

I Know people weren't thrilled about Booker being in this one, but I've developed a pet-peeve about that: this story was *not* booker-centric. Booker only exists in this story to the extent required to explain the importance of the gesture Nile makes towards him. If there was a story about Booker making some grand gesture of kindness to Nile no one would be saying it was Nile-centric. bc it wouldn't be! Booker exists in this story to explore Nile's kindness, its not about him. I saw that a couple times and it bothered me. anyways.

AAAAAAAAAA I loved this one, the art was beautiful, I loved how Andy Nile and Booker were drawn (like their comic selves but.. more looking like actual people). I loved Andy and Nile's Bants, how Andy wanted to jump right in and Do Violence but Nile was basically telling her to hold her horses.

I feel like I'm just repeating the post I made on this story a few days ago, but I LOVED how Nile's plan revolves not around violence or Cool Mercenary Skills but on Nile's own life skills (as she canonly did a lot of minimum wage job-hopping before the marines in comics canon). Her plan used her skills, not the skills of an immortal warrior, and HER SKILLS were in fact more useful for the situation! lov to see Nile's resourcefulness and planning skills.

AND HOW NILE WAS PROBABLY WATCHING BOOKER??? it's so Much bc 1.) nile knew booker A SINGLE DAY and yet he made such an impression on her emotionally that she had to keep an eye on him and 2.) she said in the movie she wanted Booker to get off free with an apology. Yes she's a member of the team but that doesn't mean she's necessarily going to follow orders like a good little soldier. I also love how she convinced Andy to go along with it. her HEART, her KINDNESS, her THOUGHTFULNESS, UGH.

5 The Bear

Honestly I have like no negative things to say about this one other than a.) character design issues which is less about the story itself and is more of a 'tog comic in general' criticism and b.) too short, but it was supposed to be a tease, so.

But I loved Yitzhak, I wasn't expecting to really like him at all but like I said in my other post, he tickled me. I love characters who are Kind™, especially if they have little reason to be so given their backgrounds. Chef's kiss. Lov him.

6 Bonsai Shokunin

I know this one was a little controversial bc of the outsider POV but whenever I see people upset about that they never point out that the Outsider Guy (the samurai) existed as a reflection on Noriko. His ideas are explained in the text to develop hers. The whole story follows how she gave mercy to a scared young man and in response he murdered Noriko, repeatedly! Who gave him the right to inflict such pain and suffering on the world? In his opinion, the lack of response from the gods was his permission. And for Noriko-- over and over again she dies and suffers because she gave mercy, which lines up with her ideas in FM about how it's their fate to rule mortals and if they don't align with that plan/fate/whatever then they suffer. It shows some background to those ideas and how they developed in her mind outside of Ocean Madness™. Additionally, his idea of 'the Gods have done nothing to strike me down so it's fine if I do these things' kind of explains how Noriko may justify her own morally corrupt actions-- she's died so many times and it's never stuck. Maybe if she did die any of those times, or while she was in the water, maybe that would've been a sign she was doing something right, or at least doing something normal. But she hasn't died. Fate isn't done with Noriko yet. And maybe there's a reason for that. In her mind, it's just not a very pleasant reason, is all.

There were things I was kind of meh about tho. I did kind of wish we saw something of Noriko and the team, or smth explaining the way she was before her dip in the pool-- personality, likes dislikes, etc. but it wasn't bad or anything. It was super vague tho, I had to read it a few times before I got what it was going for. Liked the art. Liked the bonsai metaphor. And of course I Respect the decision to use the 1300s (1200s? I don't remember off the top of my head) rather than using the last 200 years.

7 Strong Medicine

Honestly looking back, this one made me kind of sad because both this one and Bonsai Shokunin explored character's ideas on Fate and The Divine and how that intersects with immortality and I totally thought that theme would be continued, especially with Love Letters. But Then It Wasn't™.

Admittedly.... I had to re-read this one to remember most of it. I liked Booker's ideas on God, 'The conductor of the symphony just may not be very good at his trade' but the plot itself was kind of forgettable. Some fuckin cowboys try to kill a doctor (their second) because he couldn't save their sickly brother. Book tries to stop them, gets killed, and then comes back and kills them all before they get the doctor. Alright. I liked the artstyle because the characters were ugly in a similar way that leandro's are, but way more bearable.

I love the Irony of Booker concluding that there is no such thing as fate or destiny and nothing has meaning, AS HE UNKNOWINGLY SAVES MERRICK'S GRANDFATHER FROM BEING KILLED. Booker getting fucked over by life/god/destiny yet again. It also kind of explains about where the fuck hell Merrick's interest in immortal mercenaries even came from.

I originally had this one a lot higher and then I thought about it and moved it down like two spots.

8 Never Gets Old

I liked seeing Booker interact with his kid. And we got a name for the kid! Philippe was a little bitch though, he was a little obnoxious. I liked how Booker was so thrilled to experience a restaurant with his kid (and since we know he was there before, it can be assumed he went with all of his kids and yet he was so charmed each time). It fits with his line to Nicky in the moon landing story about how you don't appreciate beautiful things 'unless you have someone to share them with'. It was charming to see Booker interact with his kid, and to see him so happy. Also lmao @ Booker's big fat Ye Olde Crush on Andy.

However at the same time it was like.. of all the things to write about,,, I guess? Booker's Night Out...... alright. Especially since Book had so many stories.

I don't know, it was alright. The old man killing him really came out of nowhere, (but the 'Salut, asshole!' panel was funny tho).

9 How To Make a Ghost Town

I've hit a point where talking about these stories has gotten less fun. I liked this one but I felt like Achilles getting lynched was not really necessary for a story that was already tragic (a story that already involved Achilles doing a lot of suffering at the hand of bigots). When we first got the blurb for this story I thought it would be about Andy returning to the squad and making friends with Booker after losing Achilles and them butting heads on the idea of family and when to cut off ties. So a little bit of my underwhelmedness about this one might be just my expectations being different.

Honestly I was pretty interested in Andy and Achilles' relationship and I would've liked to see more of them-- like, what was their dynamic like? What did they love about each other?

But anyways Andy leaving and Achilles getting killed anyways feels so pointlessly tragic (which I suppose is the point..... I don't like tragedies) she left to save him and yet people killed him anyway. Meh.

I did love the bits about Andy wanting to have a domestic life (Andy and her multitudes again) and the little detail about how she buried her axe near the road but he buried his guns under his bed-- he was an escaped slave, he never had the luxury of assuredness like Andy did. It was a sad story.

10 Lacus Solitudinis

'You put this one above love letters crim??? how could you???' easy, lmao.

There was stuff in this one I liked. But to talk about stuff I didn't like: (I'll keep it brief, I know ragging on this story has been done time and time again)

UH, setting aside the 6 year cold shoulder between Joe and Nicky, I thought their chosen method of conflict resolution was... bad at best. Nicky's inability to talk about his feelings was also annoying, especially since the entire point of this story is a fight Joe and Nicky had, and yet we don't get both sides to the story, which is...... important? That fact is especially annoying bc in the absence of Nicky explaining his side of the story, it's absolutely a possible (and admittedly probably unintentional) interpretation of the text that we do get that Joe routinely resolves conflict between him and Nicky by simply cutting Nicky out of his life entirely until Nicky just. caves? Even if it takes years?

WHICH i could get into that interpretation and how fucked up i find it. but im not going to. out of restraint.

I don't know, I think there are a lot of interesting ways to go about this conflict but 'Nicky wants to kill a guy and Joe refuses to acknowledge his existence until he stops because he thinks Nicky is too much of a Good Boy to get his hands dirty like that' ('I wont watch as the world turns his (...) compassion into something ugly'. ) wasn't.. how I would've done it. (I mean you know Joe doesn't give a shit about what Nicky is doing in a moral way, because Joe doesn't even care or mention that Booker is killing those cops too. Joe only cares because he doesn't like the idea of Nicky changing in a way he finds undesirable.)

admittedly I've said before, I do like the emphasis Joe's reaction puts on Nicky's kindness. Joe has a complete inability to cope with Nicky simply Not Being Kind. It speaks to the steadiness of Nicky's compassion all those years. but still that fact doesn't make it the conflict feel worth it

hm. I said I would be brief and I wasn't.

oh well. basically I thought there was interesting conflict potential there but it wasn't done the way I would've liked, and the way it was done leaves a lot of disturbing (and again probably unintended) interpretations to lie.

What I did like? Andy and Joe having that pessimist/optimist dynamic. Joe nerding out about science. Andy not being impressed by The Achievements Of Man. I loved Booker needling at Nicky about his outdated slang and also trying to give him Older Brother advice practically in the same breath. I loved Booker giving The Worst relationship advice ever and Nicky being like 'I Will Not Do That, Ever, Thanks.' the family vibes were so good. The Joenicky vibes left a lot to be desired tho.

11 Love Letters

I talked about my problems with Nicky in this story (and Lacus Solitudinis). I don't know, the story isn't bad but I do hold a little bit of a grudge towards it because its very existence begs the existence of a solo Joe story and we didn't get one. If we never got this story, then we could happily count Lacus Solitudinis and Zanzibar as The Joenicky Stories™ and move on with our lives. sigh.

I remember when we first got the blurb for this story I was really curious about why Nicky specifically + the setting, and the answer kind of feels like 'the author had an idea for a story like this and saw ttt as a good enough place to utilize that idea'. Plus I was really underwhelmed by the Romantic Sentiment in the letter. If you look at it line-by-line, the majority of the letter is actually Nicky talking about how lonely and disturbed he is, rather than actual,, yknow,,, Romantic Sentiment. I mean, compare the van speech and this letter and this letter is just kind of meh in comparison. I liked nicky calling joe wise! and I liked the brief sun/moon metaphor! and otherwise it was eh. It didn't even have cute squad banter, which is why Lacus Solitudinis is above this one.

12 An Old Soul

Nun orgy. Nun orgy?????? Nun orgy.......

The whole story felt like a setup to have a nun orgy. Why did Booker have abs? Why did they do that to Andy's nose? ?????? the art was good at least.

nun orgy.

[cunningambitousdetermined]

Do You Love Me? (I Loved You Part 2: young!Sirius x Reader)

ahhh im so excited to write this! @aseriousfckingmess and @iamninaanna AND @maraudersbitvh​ asked for this and i was so happy bc i had so so many ideas and even more feelings. thank you to everyone who read my last two things i’ve written, i feel so so lucky and so happy. and thank you to those who spurred my ideas for a part 2! thank you thank you thank you. 

this is the second part to I Loved You which i wrote for @vogueweasley‘s challenge. so here it goes:

warnings: swearing, fluff, some angst, walburga being a butthole

not my gif

“Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?” With that she turned on your heel and ran out of the dorm. Sirius stood and watched as you got smaller and smaller and with step she took, his anger ebbed a little. And then she was gone, leaving behind the boy who loved her.

“Mate,” Remus’s voice was cool and collected but the undertone of fury shook Sirius out of his stupor. “What the actual fuck did you do?” Remus swore often- he was always tripping over his long limbs, mumbling curses under his breath- but this, this, was calm fury. His jaw was wound tight and his eyes bore through Sirius. 

“Moony, I- I- What?” Sirius whispered, his voice sounded like the sad ending chord of a symphony as it moved and filled and soared through the space between them. “I- I- She hates me?” The realization rocked Sirius so hard, he found his knees skidding the rough carpet of the floor, Y/N’s words filled every inch of his head, spilling out his ears, mouth, his nose. “She hates me.” The only person who had ever seen past the arrogant smirk, the only person who had ever wiped his tears, whispered his fears away. The only person who had ever loved him, was gone. Gone. 

Remus needed to sit down. His whole body was buzzing with anger at Sirius. How could he hurt her? Why would he hurt her? It didn’t matter though. All that mattered was how sad Y/N looked, how tired and then how angry she had become. That wasn’t the kind, soft, funny, Y/N he knew. This was hurt, and betrayed and broken. He went to move the lumps in Y/N’s pillow aside when his hand brushed against paper. Remus dug his hand down farther underneath the sheet and grasped the paper. It was a letter and a stack of small papers, crumpled and wet with tears. He glanced down at Sirius, in his current shocked state and began to read. 

Sirius shook the tears from his eyes and turned to find Moony reading some papers on Y/N’s bed. Y/N’s bed. The one he’d used to sleep in. The one that he used to whisper the love of his life to sleep in. His mind was filled with thoughts, memories, and ocean of words and kisses and hugs. 

“YOU ARSE!” a screech shattered the rose tinted memories, Remus was up and towering over Sirius. “YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARD! I TRUSTED YOU! I TRUSTED YOU NOT TO HURT HER! YOU PROMISED! HOW COULD YOU?! SHE WAS NOTHING BUT GOOD AND KIND AND WONDERFUL TO YOU! SHE GAVE EVERYTHING TO YOU AND YOU BROKE HER! YOU BROKE HER!” Remus’s hands were shaking in an effort not to hit Sirius, he didn’t know the boy in front of him. It was occurring to him that maybe he never did. “YOU DON’T DESERVE HER AND YOU NEVER WILL!” He tossed the letters at Sirius’s face and with a turn Remus stormed out of the room and once again Sirius was walked away from, by the people who loved him most. 

Y/N was racing around the castle, trying not to break. She just needed to find a place. She paced past the stairwell to the Gryffindor Tower and stalled. She had taken those stairs and cuddled in his bed. She had kissed him awake and kissed him goodnight there. The memories came in waves, flowing down the stairs, kisses and hugs, fights and making up, crying and laughing until their stomachs hurt. Barefoot, racing toward the common room, collapsing on the couch, reading out loud. His smile, his eyes. His laugh, his cry, his nose all the way down to his toes. She knew it all. 

“Y/N?” a soft voice inquired, large hands placed on her shoulders, the soft smell of chocolate wafted through her nose. Remus.

She slowly turned around and was met by her best friends eyes drowned in worry. She croaked, “Did you know Rem? Did you know?” Her eyes filled with tears once more and she turned away, embarrassed. 

“No.” Remus slid his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. “No, no no. I never knew. I never thought he could even...” Remus trailed off as the tears spilled down her cheeks, “Come with me, love.” He then tucked Y/N under his arm and started to walk. She dug her face into his neck and smiled softly as she felt his hand encircle her own with a soft squeeze. Right now she just needed her best friend, who had always been there no matter what. And somehow he always just knew what she needed. As they entered Remus’s dorm and he threw her some comfy clothes and a book, she thanked him internally. Thanked whatever higher being there was that she had ended up with the best friend in the entire world. Her heart felt a little bit light as she snuggled into his side and he began to read aloud as he had done so many times before. 

“Rem?” she questioned, turning her gaze to his soft green eyes. 

“Yes?” his soft smile gave her made tears fill her eyes in gratitude.

“Thank you,”

“What for, darling?” Remus let his hands card softly through her hair as she looked away.

“Everything.” That word held so much meaning for them. Everything meant all the full moons, all the hard days and the good ones. All the sad moments and all the happy ones, all the time they had just been there. The quiet moments of just reading and the loud ones filled with laughter and joy. Everything just meant Remus existing. Thank you, she said, thank you for it all. 

Sirius would watch them from afar. His heart would ache as he hid around the corners as Remus and Y/N would walk to class. He would turn in his bed to hold her only to grab at cold sheets, to tell her a joke but she wasn’t there. To ask her if she really thought he was enough even if his family didn’t. If she didn’t think he was an awful person. Before, she would have held him and with words so soft, she would’ve told him how much she loved him and that he was real, human and it was okay to feel. But now, he was an awful person. Remus wouldn’t talk to him, Y/N wouldn’t look at him, and he was tired. 

He didn’t sleep anymore. All he could do was lay awake in hope of never falling into the dreams where Y/N would yell at him. Would curse him, spit at him. It was all his fault that she was gone. His fault that she couldn’t meet his eye. His fault that she hated him. Even drowning in these thoughts, he felt a confusion. What had he done? 

Sirius was sitting by the dying embers of the fire one night when footsteps echoed from behind him. “Sirius?” James’s groggy voice called, “What’s going on?” He didn’t answer. The footsteps got closer until James was next to him, sitting down. “Pads?” his voice had softened to one of worry, “Hey, tell me what’s up?”

“I can’t sleep James,” Sirius’s voice sounded like broken glass, the echo of happiness all but lost, “I love her. And I don’t even know what I did, but she’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone. I love her. She was the only thing that mattered. I lost it all. I lost my family, my mom, my dad, my brother. My cousins. But I had her. And you guys but, with her... it was different.” James put a hand on Sirius’s shoulder and Sirius collapsed into James’s side. “She got it. And she was all I had. All that kept me good inside. The glue that held me together. SHE’S GONE!” and it went like that, Sirius sobbing into James, repeating how he didn’t know what he did, he loved her, he did. James just held him, his broken best friend as he cried for the girl he had lost. And James cried. He cried for his best friend who had been hurt so much and lost it all. He cried for the girl he once knew. But when his tears ran out and Sirius drifted off to let sleep’s greedy claws take him, he had an epiphany. Whether or not they liked it, Sirius and Y/N would forever be each others catalysts. The only way to balance was together. Apart, they would just keep on falling. 

James found a sense of resolve as he walked over to where Remus and Y/N lay under a tree, reading. 

“James...” Remus acknowledged him with caution, but James wasn’t done. 

“Remus, can I speak to you?” he asked, motioning to a spot not far off from the tree, “It won’t be long.” Remus glanced down at Y/N who offered James a tentative smile and wave. 

“Go on, Rem.” She said, “I’ll be fine.” With one last suspicious look, Remus got up and followed James to the shaded area where James leaned against the cool stone wall.

“Jam-” Remus began, but James was faster.

“Just let me say something.” James needed to know, “I just have to know. What happened?”

“Sirius didn’t tell you?” The bite in Remus’s voice made James flinch and he saw Remus’s face soften to apology. 

“No. He hasn’t slept, he lost it last night. Just blubbering about love and how he just didn’t know what he did!” James cried, “What did he do?”

“Tonight.” Remus’s face hardened now, “Room of Requirement, and bring Sirius. We need to have a little chat.” He then whipped around and resumed his position with Y/N, placing a brotherly kiss to the top of her head. Remus gave James a look which he took as a sign to leave. Sighing, he trudged off, hoping that Sirius wasn’t going to end up in the hospital wing tonight.

Remus paced impatiently in the seventh floor corridor as he waited for is roommates to show up. Just as he was about to go drag them from wherever they had gotten themselves sidetracked, James rounded the corner, dragging Sirius behind him. James stopped in front of Remus and shoved Sirius forward. He looked up and Remus’s heart clenched. His eyes were sunken deep and his eyes held a pain so deep he had to look away. He closed his eyes and heard the familiar scratching of the wall becoming the door. Remus couldn’t stomach a glance back at his friends sad face as he pushed the door open. Inside, there were plush couches and loveseats scattered around near a small fireplace. Remus took up a position curled into a loveseat and raised an eyebrow in expectation at James and Sirius. They quickly took their spots. James sitting on the floor while Sirius sat stiff backed on the couch. The silence and tension thickened as Remus started Sirius down, his eyes burning through his long tousled locks. James finally had enough, “AHEM.” Sirius’s head shot up, “Remus, please tell us what the bloody hell is going on.” Remus sighed and pulled the stack of well work paper from his pocket. Glancing down and then at Sirius’s hurt face, he let out another tired sigh. 

“What happened is that Sirius, our dear friend,” The way he spat the word friend had Sirius flinching and James’s eyes widening. “was using Y/N. To get back at his mother. And, and I quote  ‘ It doesn’t hurt that I get sex. I mean I could have any girl but damn, she gave herself to me so fast. Even I didn’t know I was that good. ‘” He let out a hard breath as Sirius’s face still looked painted with confusion.

James had stood up and was towering over Sirius, “YOU DID WHAT?!” he screamed, “YOU TOLD ME SHE WAS DIFFERENT!” Remus was in shock, he had never seen James yell at Sirius before. And he barely ever saw James angry. 

Sirius couldn’t even register the things that James was saying. He didn’t write that. No, no he didn’t. He loved her more then anything. She was the only one who cared. She kept him human in his family of monsters. She kept his feet on the ground when his head was in the clouds. He loved her. This was supposed to be the real thing. Like forever, this was it for him. “I didn’t- I would never- Remus-” The shock that she had read those words hit him like a knife to the gut. Remus threw the paper down at him and Sirius scrambled to read them all. Note after note after note saying awful things. Each time he read something he felt the knife twist as he realized she read this. His love. Thought.... he couldn’t even bare to finish the thought. He kept going and going. He knew he didn’t write these, his handwriting was neater then that, crafted to perfection by his mother. But all the things that the notes said; worthless, mudblood, fat, ugly. His Y/N was stunning, took his breath away, blood status didn’t matter. She was worth more then anything this world could offer. She was his world. The notes just kept going, the pile seemed endless. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to puke or go find you and get drunk on your kisses. He could feel Remus and James’s stares on him as he rifled through the papers. Just as he was about to turn away from them and tell his friends that theses weren’t his, a signet caught his eye. The Noble House of Black signet. He yanked the letter out and his eyes frantically scanned the page. His mother’s tone made his stomach churn. It was no wonder she hated him now. He might not be able to get her back, this was quite unforgivable, but he could put her heart at ease. He still loved her. But did she still love him?

“Remus, James; I didn’t write these” His voice came out raspy and shaky from the tears he didn’t even realize were falling down his face, hot waterfalls cascading on the papers. He cleared his throat and continued, “It was Regulus and Walburga. I know it. I love her. I don’t care about her blood status, I never have! She was it for me.” He lowered his head, “I know that I hurt her by putting her in harms way and she might still hate me, but I can try and fix what I’ve broken. I know I don’t deserve her and I never have, but she’s all I have and I need her. I need her to know how I feel. I need her know I love her and I’m sorry.” Sirius was crying harder but his voice was firm. Remus and James exchanged looks that very clearly said He’s telling the truth. Remus sunk to his knees and took Sirius into his arms. “Do you believe me?” Sirius’s voice was cracked and tired.

Remus tugged him closer letting Sirius’s tears soak through his sweater, “Yeah, yeah I do believe you. I’m sorry that I yelled at you, I didn’t even think.... but it all makes so much sense. She told me Regulus gave her the letters, and I mean Reg is a nice enough kid on his own but something seemed off. You’re my best friend and I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I’m sorry. But if you ever really hurt her...” Sirius made a noise somewhere between a sob and a chuckle. 

“I know, I know... you did the right thing. If I did that, I would murder me too.” The boys laughed and James joined the hug. Sirius gave his smallest but most real smile in the weeks it had been. He had his friends back, now all that was left was her.

Sirius was shaking. Like actually shaking. He stood outside your dorm door as Remus knocked softly. “Y/N?” he called, “Can I come in?” 

“Remus? Come on in!” A soft voice floated out the door and he felt his mind go blank, his only thought was to get to her. James tried to shake him but he could only think about his skin on hers. The delicate shape of her hips and the small curve of her smile. His mind spun, would she forgive him? Could she forgive him? With one last glance back, Remus pushed the door open. Sirius froze. There she was. She had never looked more stunning in shorts and a old t-shirt of... his? Yeah, that was his shirt. His heart leapt, she was wearing his shirt. 

Y/N was petrified. What was he doing here? Her heart clenched, he looked so soft, and her whole body ached with the effort to run to him. “Siri...?” her voice came out soft and wispy, high and broken. His whole face broke open at the tears in your eyes. Y/N whipped around, furiously wiping at her tears. “Leave.” she croaked, “please.” 

Remus let a hand massage her shoulder, “Love, just listen to what he has to say. I would not have brought him here to hurt you, you know that.” She gazed up at her best friend with glassy eyes and scanned his face. His face only held love for her and strangely enough, hope. 

She turned away again, letting Remus’s hand fall of her shoulder, “Fine.”

Sirius stepped forward and took a breath. This was it. There was no going back or do overs anymore. “Y/N, I love you.” he began, “And I always will. Those notes, they weren’t from me. Regulus wrote them after he told Walburga about us. He must’ve seen you sneaking in or with me in the yard. They took you away from me to hurt me. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. I’m sorry for making you a target. But none of that bullshit if true. I love you and you are perfect. You are my whole entire world. You are my oxygen and I’m struggling to breathe right now. I love you so much and I know I don’t deserve you or your forgiveness but I need to know. Do you love me?”

Y/N was shocked. It all made sense, the notes, Regulus. The tears pooled in her eyes slipped out and she sobbed, hands clasped over her mouth. She had missed him so much and here he was in all his glory, with his long hair and his grey eyes, asking her if she loved him. She did, there was nothing to ask. 

“Y/N?” Sirius whispered and she realized she had been silent for much to long. 

“Of course I love you, you arsehole!” That was all it took to break Sirius and he was running at her and sweeping her up into his arms. Her breath fanned over his neck and he pulled back to gaze at the face he had been missing so much. The soul that completed him. 

“Do you forgive me?” he whispered as he inched closer to her lips.

She closed the gap, pressing her lips against his and his heart had never felt lighter. She pulled away softly and Sirius panted as he laughed at the sheer happiness of it all. “There’s nothing to forgive baby.” She breathed against his lips and went back to kissing him. He kissed her neck and her cheeks muttering all the things he loved about her between kisses. James and Remus shared a disgusted but happy look as they slipped out the room.

 “I love you Sirius Black and don’t you ever forget it.”

wow sorry the ending was rushed and idk but it’s done! thank you guys so much for reading this ahhhh im so happy that you guys liked it enough for a part 2! i love you guys!

[softkuea]

I didn't want to post about this because it upsets me but I see a lot of people saying that Pi is this or that (always in a negative manner) even asking for less screen time for him, so guess what... I have to say something.

First of all, I want to say that is okay to dislike a character. This has nothing to do with that, the problem is when people start talking about them without understanding context or their psychology (saying Pi is an asshole or annoying just because... we know that's not true). I know a thing or two about the human mind, I'm not claiming to be a full expert, i haven't finish my career but i know certain stuff and i love to analyze.

Let's start with the environmental background, I can't say much about their family dynamics (we don't even know who Pi's other brother is) but I will focus on the school environment and what was explained in the first episode.

Pi has had very bad experiences with friends, in general, people only looked for him with double intentions. These friends spoke of him in a derogatory way, telling him that he was not worth it and that he acts "weird." When I heard this, what I thought was the experience of neurodivergent or mentally ill people. This is very common, since people do not understand you and label you "weird" simply because you are interested in other things or your way of being is out of the norm.

I feel like Pi has always thought of himself as someone who doesn't fit anywhere and all the events that caused his trauma just increased his convictions regarding this narrative.

Not everyone deals with trauma in the same way: some do it passively, isolating themselves completely from others or ceasing to take care of themselves. Others do it actively, using defense mechanisms when someone offers them help or affection, even resorting to harmful and obsessive behaviors (in extreme cases).

Pi does it the second way, when he heard his "friends" speak ill of him, he went directly to confront them and took the initiative first. When he feels threatened he is honest, although he may seem rude, and at the same time, his attitude of him is clearly defensive. He is trying desperately to get away from Mork: away from love and affection because he does not want something similar to what he lived before to repeat itself. When y'all call him "inmature", yes, you are right: he is still a teen, you don't automatically become an "adult" the moment you turn 18. Also, he behaves like that because he regress to the time when he was being harrassed, acts in a defensive manner, not trusting anyone because the trauma is still there. You can think too that is because he is neurodivergent and doesn't understand social cues well, either way, there's a clear reason for his behaviour. Other factors are the fact that he doesn't consider that he deserves to be treated well, his self-esteem is so low that he can't believe in the idea that someone loves him. Still, there is a part in Pi that tells him that he deserves to be loved and this is so new to me bc we usually see characters who are insecure and that's their whole personality, very empty. Pi has flaws that feel human, on the one hand, he is quite self-confident, sometimes selfish and somewhat "narcissistic", but all of that is a defense mechanism (and just how some young people behave tbh) so he doesn't end up hurt: he has more dimensions that some main characters out there! and guess what? it makes senses, because his personality has been shaped by the events of his past, by the trauma that keeps him in this state of constant hyper awareness or alertness.

And Muang Nan... yeah, let's talk about this "crush", which i can certainly say is not genuine: like I said, people cope with trauma in different ways. For Pi, another way of coping is getting attach to Nan and only ​only because he was nice to him once. Pi was in such a vulnerable state that he convinced himself that he likes Nan, after all, he was the first person who did not judge him or look down on him, it is normal for him to stick to Nan when all his life he has been treated like trash. Mork, unfortunately came later, now Pi must realize that this is not healthy and give a chance to people who really want the best for him, give himself a chance to love, and especially, to love himself.

So I'll put it this way: Pi isn't annoying or inmature just because. He uses defense mechanisms to avoid getting hurt, perhaps these mechanisms are not "cute", but surprise! Coping with trauma is never cute, the ways we deal with it can be ugly too. I hate how much we demonize people who are clearly suffering, but because their way of coping is not "socially acceptable" or "nice" we just dislike them.

Can we normalize having flaws? Can we stop judging people for the way they cope? Everyone deals with their inner demons differently, we need more messy characters bc i'm tired of the norm, i want series to show characters that actually represent humanity, morally grey characters. I hate the binary of "good" or "bad", i want what falls in between.

[scarawayfromfallingapart]

but The (After)life of the Party is one of THOSE songs to me that’s like… to be cliche… a kick drum beating in my chest (again) like idk. This is one of those songs where I think they succeeded in writing it better than I’ve ever felt it but here I go trying to analyze it anyway… I realize I am taking your shtick @petewentzisblack1312 … but this song NEEDS to be analyzed and I am going to try and make you like it :) I have been lurking in ur asks as an anon for a couple weeks and I HAVe to say this off anon… I’m sorry to bother u. My greatest hits include my autotune does not equal bad/talentless rant and my Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) mini-analysis 🤪 but also I learn SO MUCH from ur blog I love it. Anyway!!! Analysis of this song:

Tw : mania, depression, anxiety, substance use

To me this song is about coming down from a manic episode, maybe not even necessarily transitioning right into depression but like. Just coming down from it and kinda seeing the world as it is again, and feeling that kind of mellowed out, where your body allows itself to feel tired again. The title makes it more obvious - he’s no longer the life of the party - it’s over, everyone’s gone home, but he’s still there trying in vain to carry it on.

“I’m a stitch away from making it and a scar away from falling apart” is my FAVORITE line (hence my URL lol)… but the fact that this song opens with that and the narrator is oscillating between feeling 100% and feeling like they’re going to breakdown like THAT is what these transitions feel like to me (ok also I generally feel like this on a daily basis). But this line also gives you a hint of how well it is going… like he’s a stitch away from getting there - the cut hasn’t completely healed so he’s not getting there any time soon : but a scar away from falling apart - like a scar has already healed so it’s old hurt that is threatening to tear him apart —> “my old aches become new again”.

Then we get “blood cells pixelate” which I personally find hilarious since this song has been likened to the sims 3 soundtrack 💀 (I played the sims but I refused to have the music on so I have no idea cannot confirm or deny). Butttt this is obviously like a nod to everything being on film like even everything down to the blood coursing through his veins is made into an image, poster boys for your scene am I right? Also has to do with the scar/stitch - his breakdown is there for everyone to see, immortalized on magazine covers and interviews and E!News segments. But like only the blood cells, like no one gives a damn if he heals from this, thats not newsworthy. Eyes dilate (drugs and/or sex but maybe drugs Bc of the next line - full moon pills got him out on the street at night) butttt mania often comes with insomnia as we well know so. Maybe the pills are metaphorical idk

THEN the narrator becomes an observer - it’s no longer introspective, he’s watching someone else work the room, he’s cutting all ties to them loose, just sitting back and relaxing and watching and I always had this vision of Pete and/or patrick watching some girl flit around the room while he sat there with a lazy smile and drank a beer and leaned back in his chair. BUT on thinking on this more… I think- bear with me - maybe… just maybe… he’s watching himself outside of himself like some kind of dissociative thing (I personally experience that but it’s due to anxiety but it is common among just the general population so who knows) and it’s like you’re feeling that irritable high from the manic phase still and you’re trying to push through and just be part of this party right (or just part of life in general right, like the party is metaphorical IMO) and you separate form yourself in order to get through - your mind and body are not one. You have to watch yourself from the inside out, rely on muscle memory to get you through the party or your job or the tour or whatever it was in his case.

also tying back to I’m a stitch away - right like some part of you is cut in half and I’m a scar away - again, you were cut somewhere, something was severed, mind and body maybe… big brain hours (but also I’m probably reaching for that one)

Anyway then we have the “put love on hold” bc fuck if he’s ready for a relationship - he’s watching this girl desperate for stardom, maybe it’s the girl he’s watching work the room (if it’s not a dissociative thing, or maybe it’s both tbh). Her nose runs ruby red (cocaine is probably the cause I’m thinking, she’s doing lines at this party to be working the room). Death’s in a double bed (orgasms… nice one Pete) but really it’s a classic tale of a girl desperate for roles that she’s willing to sleep around to get there, she’s singing songs that could only catch the ear of other desperate people like her… but… Pete is writing THIS song and Patrick is singing it and they are just as desperate, right, like he’s helplessly watching someone enjoy a party and he’s verging on miserable (or he’s watching himself try to enjoy the party while he’s actually miserable) and they’re trying to catch our ears… we are the desperate… —> “I’m here to collect your hearts/it’s the only reason that I sing”

Then the bridge is where he starts to actually breakdown, the vocals get more intense and strained and chaotic, the sims 3 soundtrack music swells, and he repeats the beginning, reiterating that but adding on “kiss away young thrills and kills on the mouths of all of my friends” - to me he wants to take away all their joy and pain (kills could also = orgasm if u want to be nasty lol and tie it into the death in a double bed) and he wants to feel it for himself because right now he feels NOTHING like he’s right in the goddamn middle of feeling great and feeling like shit and again, to me that exemplifies the transition between mania and depression and we are back to square 1 (to me also thrills = mania and kills= depression but that’s just probably dumb lol).

Also he’s kissing it all away - it’s gentle, it’s loving, like brushing someone’s tears away, he’s not trying to be forceful about it, but he feels like HE should be experiencing all the highs and lows not his friends… or he doesn’t want his friends to suffer… both probably and the chorus is unhinged this time, patrick gives it his all, loses it, signifying hey wait, the narrator DID lose it… but then the song ends with the music coming off that swell, slowing down, relaxing, the narrator resignedly signing off “I’m a stitch away”… giving us maybe an etch of hope, that maybe his stitches healed after all and he did make it through (with hearts and wrists intact I am so corny sorry)

ANYWAY tldr I love this song and it means so much to me and like when I was 15 and found it the first time I was always like “why does this one hurt me so bad, like I don’t get it” but like. Now that I know what bipolar disorder is and that I suffer from it I understand lol. I don’t know if this is how Pete intended this idk I feel like I got some lines right but to ME this is what it feels like. Also it is v fun to play on the violin :)

[valeskakingdom]

Request

Hi! I wanted to make you a request for a jerome x reader bc I saw that you write so well! Anyway, could you do a one shot where jerome and female reader meet when hes been kidnapped by Theo and she's an assasin that works for him that interrupts his speech that he's doing to the maniax (and if you could do her with a few tattoos, dressed in leather and covered in blood bc she just ended a "work" For Theo it would be great but you're not obligated) and they are fascinated by each other and begin to be friends and.. Idk if you can use your mind to make them sleep together 😂 and one last thing she has a strong personality but it's not like she never smiles like she has emotions ahahha (so she's not bitchy like I've seen doing in other fics), and she's kinda dominant in bed.. Like she is a switch, if you don't want to do it bc you don't like the idea it doesn't matter

Requested by @rott3nheart

Thank you!! Okay so, I tried to do my best on it. Honestly about the switch thing I kinda felt uncomfortable but still I tried to do my best. Hope you enjoy reading:)

PS: sorry that I took so long. had a lot of stuff to deal with

PSS: I split that request in two parts again because of the enormous length. Post the next part right after that here

Jerome x female reader (part 1)

Warnings: mention of sex, murder and violence

Another day full of work. Another day where a human life had to end.

Another day where you had to do a favor for your boss Theo Galavan.

He want to become the most powerful man in Gotham - the major. He wanted to win the election. It would be a tragedy if he didn't because any of his competitors seem to be better. It would be scandalous, wouldn't it?

Your previous days were the same as now: Theo called you, he wanted you to do him favors which obviously meant to kill people that could cause trouble.

Every day you came back covered in blood with messy hair, Theo thanked you, you had a nice conversation with Tabitha - your best friend - and then you made your way to clean your weapons and slowly drift to sleep.

Your every day life didn't bore you though. Oh no, you loved it! You loved the thrill every time you chase someone, tortured him and then killed him. The whole process was giving you chills, just the thought of it was enough.

You walked after that guy through a crowd of people. You took your time, even bought a coffee and some candies for yourself while chasing the guy. You didn't want to stand out.

Then you just waited for the perfect moment where barely people were around you and BOOM! - that guy was shot by you.

You tried to call Tabitha telling her Theo's competitor was dead, she didn't pick up.

It made you suspicious - usually she always picked up. So either she was busy with killing someone or she had to help Theo with some business.

You sighed for yourself and looked down at the dead body right in front of you. That corpse had to disappear. And so you decided to do what you always did: you carried the corpse to a forest, chopped it up with your axe and buried it anywhere.

And that was what you did. You carried that dead guy, stumbled at first through his weight but then you quickly made your way. Luckily the forest was near the place where you killed him and second of all, you made sure no one was watching you. You knew many ways through where you could literally invisible.

You walked through bushes, ran through little dark alleys and finally arrived the forest. You walked through it, deep enough until you were sure that this place was perfect to bury a corpse. You let the corpse fall on the ground, staring at it for a while. The guy's skin was pale already and he stopped bleeding.

"Well, I'm sorry my dear, but it's time to chop you up." You grabbed the axe from your back pocket and started the process.

First you chopped up the arms, then the legs, the head and then the guy's body in little several parts.

Of course, you always had a shovel next to your axe. How else should you eradicate a corpse? As fast as possible you dug little holes into the ground to shove the guy's body parts into them. It didn't take you that long, maybe an hour or two.

As you finished your work with pride you slowly walked out of the forest still making sure no one was watching you - and luckily no one did.

You tried to call Tabitha again - but again she didn't pick up the phone.

"Ugh, I hope she has a good reason not to respond. If she's fucking someone then I'll fucking kill her!" you hissed putting your axe and the shove back in your pocket and quickly made your way to Theo's Tower.

***

Finally the elevator opened and you entered Theo's living room.

People in some kind of small wagons were standing with their backs in front of you being tied up. Tabitha stood aside while you heard Theo was holding a speech about people's attitudes - you didn't pay attention to his words.

Being covered in blood and dirt you stepped forward, straight walking to Theo.

"Hey, Theo. Work is done!" You nodded to him, then turned your head to Tabitha "Hey Tabby."

"You have some uhm..." In disgust, she gestured that you have 'something' in your face and your body.

"I know. Had to chop up that guy." You shrugged. Somehow you felt watched so you turned back to Theo and his 'fellows'.

Every one was looking around besides a young ginger boy. He was eyeing you with a mischievous grin. His eyes expressed the pure evil. That guy was born to be a villain, that you can tell.

You viewed him from head to toe. He was still in his Arkham clothings.

His skin was pale, almost white. His eyes were as blue as the ocean, his lips red with a permanent smile on his face. The ginger was tall, not too skinny and not too fat. He had a standard body, maybe with some abs. Craziness was written in his face. You could tell he was crazier than all the others together. For you, he was interesting. You saw him as an opportunity to have some fun at work if Theo allows, or for fun after work.

"(Y/n)..." Theo gave you a little annoyed smile which let you know that you interrupted "Haven't expect you yet. You arrived here quite early."

"A simple kill isn't hard work, T," you crossed your arms with a slight laughter positioning yourself right next to Tabitha.

"Anyways," Theo looked back to the inmates walking past them slowly "Today is the first day of a wonderful future for all of you. If you wanna."

"Who are you?" A blonde, actually pretty girl asked him with a stern undertone.

"Well, now the question is: who are you?" Theo turned to the ginger "The world sees criminal lunatics. I see brilliance...I see charisma..." He walked back to the blonde "And power." And that was what he repeated while making deep eye contact with the blonde.

"Yes, exactly my man." The ginger growled with a sigh "That is so spooky, that is me to a T." He swung his head to the other inmate's direction contemptuously "These other bozos are, I don't know but you're singing my song." The ginger grinned.

You zoned out for a moment not listening to what Theo was saying.

You started thinking about the ginger: about how he and you made plans to kill others. It'll surely be crazy. For you he seemed to be like a showman. He needed attention, he was always right, he acted like his actual rivals mwere his best buddies... You could take advantage of it plus he could entertain you a little with jokes or his ordinary behavior.

"(Y/n)?" Tabitha snipped with her fingers in front of your eyes interrupting your train of thoughts "You alright?"

"Yeah. Was just thinking about something." You shook your head quickly trying to stop thinking about that ginger.

"About what?" Tabitha frowned "is it the ginger?"

"Why do you ask?" You scoffed taking a look at your fingernails trying to act completely uninterest. You hated talking about such a topic - especially when there weren't any kind of feelings, just nice thoughts.

"Don't play fool with me-..."

"I'm not." You interrupted her "Have no reason to."

"Tabitha, would you uh...?" You heard Theo say gesturing to the old inmate that Theo has uncuffed before.

Oh damn, that old guy will die you thought because you knew Theo. When he has a plan, everyone had to agree. If not, they'll die. There was no other option, he never showed any mercy.

"Miss Kean is coming with me." The inmate was uncuffed and he made his way to the blonde girl.

"Oh, she doesn't wanna go where you're going to." Theo stated shortly before Tabitha swung her whip and strangled the man.

His head already reddened and gagging for air. His hands tried to pull her whip away from his throat to breathe again. It didn't work though.

Tabitha pulled him on the ground and continued to strangle him. The other inmates, Theo and you just watched the whole scene.

Then she kicked him in his stomach as she sat on his body. He gasped for air still being strangled by her whip and then...she stabbed him - over and over again until she slit his throat. Blood was splashing on her and on the inmates' clothings as it spread along the floor. You heard gasps from the blonde and others every time Tabitha's knife drilled the old man's skin.

One of the inmates, it was a fat smeary man with grubby hair, kept staring at them almost psychotic with a grin. The ginger stared at the corpse staring to cackle.

It made you chuckle. You liked this straining atmosphere somehow. Most of the inmates' faces expressed fear and so you knew they'd do what Theo, Tabitha or you say anyhow. They surely didn't want to end like this old man.

"Anyone else who wanna leave?" Theo gave one of his mischievous grins. The inmates said nothing, some stared at him in fear, others just simply nodded.

"Tabitha, (Y/n)! Uncuff the guys. I'm sure no one likes to be handcuffed at home."

So that's what you did.

You took the little knife that was hidden in your pocket and severed the roped that were tied up all around them. Then you opened their handcuffs.

The smeary fat mam was the first, then a tall baldy, and then the ginger.

You looked at him for a while before you uncuffed him. He was kinda hot in your eyes as you examined him from the near. You affected his craziness, it even turned you on - somewhat. He was kinda special.

Most crazy people you knew were stupid, and dirty, and disgusting. You really didn't want to interact with them - not even for money.

And then there was the ginger. He wasn't nothing of it. He seemed to be clever, have brains...he knew what he wanted and he got everything, whether with or without violence. The word crazy was written in his face - he was everything else than normal. Maybe he was crazier than all the other inmates together? You didn't know yet, but you'd like to know. He aroused your interest a lot with his abnormal behavior.

"How many people have you killed doll?" He turned his head to you that he could still see through the corner of his eyes.

"Surely a lot more than you, sweetie." You responded with a slight chuckle "Guess, I'm some longer into that business than you, freshman."

"You're a feisty one, I like that." He grinned at you as you stood right in front of him.

"And I'm a lot more." You chuckled dark ripping the last handcuffs from his wrists.

You teased a little hoping you aroused his interest as he did with you. You knew Theo wouldn't let you take that ginger. It would cross all his plans and he'd be mad at you, threaten you and such. So you needed play tricks on him.

You didn't know what led you to all this. You just wanted that little ginger for yourself.

"We both speak the same language, how exciting! Finally I'm not only ordinary kid under all those apes. By the way, I'm Jerome." Grinning wider the ginger took a step forward to come down from this wagon and rubbed his wrists "Damn, they were tight."

"(Y/n)" you gave him a short smile "And yeah, just wanted to make sure the little bad boy's not escaping." You grinned shortly before you turned around to head back to your room.

"Oooh! What's that?" You suddenly felt Jerome's grip on your axe - your holy axe.

Within 2 seconds, you pulled your axe out of the back pocket and pressed the blade in against his throat. You could see how some blood covered the blade.

You hated it when someone touched your axe. It was your axe. No one besides you was allowed to touch it, not even to use it. Not even Theo or Tabitha.

Jerome gasped in surprise - probably by your fast reaction. And then again you saw a little smile was formed in his face.

That guy really cannot stop smiling, can he? You thought.

"You shouldn't touch other people's weapons. You could get killed." You pressed the knife a little harder against his throst.

"I know, how impolite, isn't it?" He sighed in shock "People really have no manners."

"(Y/n)! I'd feel relieved if you didn't kill our guest right after their arrival." Theo claimed giving you a stern look.

"Wasn't about to do that," You put the axe back in your pocket giving Jerome a mischievous grin "Just taught the little ginger one of our most important rules." 

You turned away again and walked along the floor to your room and swung your hips exaggerating. You knew Jerome was staring at you and you knew he examined your body.

Before you could even open your door, Jerome ran after you eagerly. It was amusing to you. He seemed to be interested in you as well. You felt strange though because he was running after you like a poor dog.

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

water rippling

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, please let me know what you think! 

Summary: could you do a young losers x reader where the reader can’t swim but richie convinced her to come w them to the quarry bc he’ll teach her. but while he is pennywise comes underwater and tries to drown her so they have to save her

warnings: this whole chapter is basically about drowning and the fear of it so please don’t read it if that triggers you. 

‘I’m not getting in.’

‘If you don’t get in than I can’t teach you anything either. Fuck, just get in already.’

‘I told you I didn’t want to go swimming Richie, this is all your stupid idea so at the very least be fucking patient with me’, you bite as you dip in foot into the water, then lift it up higher again so the water can’t reach you. The scowl on your face deepens.

You never understood why people swim as a hobby. You’d get why everyone has to learn how to swim - even if you didn’t and never learned-, but actually enjoying swimming? No, those people must be out of their minds.

Richie laughs, mocking you, but all in good fun. ‘Start with one step. Just until the water reaches your ancles. You can’t drown from that Y/N.’

‘I could trip and drown.’

‘Literally how? I’m right here, the losers are further up keeping an eye on us, and all you would have to do is stand up. It’s not deep here.’

You sigh, but know that ultimately, Richie has a point.

Most people don’t automatically back away from water as soon as they catch a glimpse of it, but people hadn’t had a trauma related to it either.

Swimming always reminds you of the day you nearly drowned. It was on vacation, in the same resort your parents took you every year, and then left you in the Mini club while they went off and had a relaxing day. The animators who were supposed to be watching you, spoke a language you, at that time, hadn’t been able to disaffirm, and that’s where an almost deadly mistake was made.

The leaders lured you away from the club house, and you, like every other little kid present, followed them along unfearingly. They were older, and you trusted that they would keep you safe. Until one of them picked you up near a pool, and threw you in without any warning.

At the time, you hadn’t been able to swim by yourself without help, and so the second your feet left solid ground, you panicked. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you tried to wave your arms for help, none of the animators were glancing your way.

You can’t figure out how you somehow managed to reach the edge of the pool, but you did, only to get thrown right back in after by the animator, who thought you were having the time of your live.

Of course, you didn’t blame them. It’s not like you could tell them you couldn’t swim, so they had no way of knowing that, but it still scared the life out of you. For the rest of the trip, and after, you refused to go anywhere near the water. Not even your parents trying to persuade you with promises of ice cream and candy if you were brave, made you take another change in the thing that nearly killed you.

You never tried to swim again, and that meant you had no knowledge of how to do it. It was embarrassing, to decline going to swim during P.E and being forced to explain why. Your peers often ridiculed you for it, and it made you feel like a losers for being such a coward.

 But, cowardness is easy, especially when compared to facing your fears, and you never tried to learn how to swim, even after all the mockery. Only your new best friends hang out in the quarry all the time now, and you’re sick of being the one who has to watch from the shore as the others have fun.

Nothing bad has occurred to them in the water, -you’ve seen them go in about six times in three weeks now, and no one has come close to trouble - and Eddie, who is the most cautious person you’ve ever met, told you that statistically, there’s very little chance of you drowning. At your wits end, the only person you can think of asking for help, is Richie.

Richie might be an add choice, but he’s the only one who wouldn’t turn the lessons entirely boring and practical, like the others might. Richie jokes around a lot, brings humor into any situation, and you need that. You can’t get in your hard about the rippling water, or you’ll back out again.

‘Fine, I’ll go in, I’ll even sit down, but if I freak out and want to get out you’ll let me okay?’

‘Yeah I’m not gonna force you to stay. I’m not Eddie’s mom.’

Maybe you’ll be embarrassed by the motion later, but in the moment, you reach for Richie’s wrist, just to have some sort of support. Richie doesn’t mention it, just careful takes the same steps you do and lets you pick the pace at which you’re going.

It goes slow, but not at any point does Richie try to speed the process along. He does drop down in the water, on his ass, choosing a spot that just covers both of your torsos but is close to the shore.

You copy his every move, breathe deeply when you feel the water ripple around you and adjust to the new intrusion, until your closely packed to Richie’s side, in the water.

It takes a second to set in, that you’re sitting in the water and nothing is happening, but then you let out a breath of disbelief.

‘See, told you you could fucking do it. Repeat after me, you’re a woman who don’t need no man.’

‘You’ve been watching to many soap operas rich’, you tell him when you feel like you’re not on the verge of panicking anymore.

Inside the water, something pokes your leg, but you try to ignore it. You focus on breathing through the initial panic, remembering that nothing bad had happened to the losers despite being in the lake for a long time, and that pretty much ensures nothing would happen to you either.

‘Oh gross’, you utter as your try to force the slimy thing away from your feet. ‘You didn’t tell me there would be fish in here.’

Richie snorts, rolling his eyes as he grabs a handful of water and aims it at your face. He misses -Richie’s aim is always horrible whether you’re playing dodgeball or he’s trying to pass something on-, but he doesn’t care.

‘This is your fear Y/N/N, don’t try to scare me now. Besides, I’m not afraid of fish, Eddie’s mom vagina’s smells like a few died down there.’

You can’t focus on how disgustingly distasteful that joke is, because all you concentrate on is the slimy sensation, slowly sliding up your leg higher and higher.

‘Richie’, you beg, your voice reduced to that of a scared toddler. ‘Then what the fuck is touching me right now?’

A louder, slightly strained chuckle is produced by Richie, like he too is getting worried but is trying hard to convince himself everything is alright.

‘Stop fucking with me Y/N.’

Richie pushes the boundaries a lot, keeps going until somebody gets really annoyed and about ready to shut him up for a longer time, but the sincerity in his vox is so present that you’re instantly convinced he’s not messing around now.

‘I’m not fucking with you’, you raise your voice to a shrilled scream, so loud that the other losers, engaged in a game of chicken in the middle of quarry, also become aware of the situation. ‘Something is down there.’

It’s too late for them to help. The slimy blob, muddled by the water but visually a hand, tightens around your ancle, and snatches, hard.

Richie’s scrawny arms can’t resist against the strong haul, but he tries to hold on for as long as possible. His nails dig into your flesh, and the more you get pulled inside the water, the more marks his nails dig as you slide forward.

You shriek, arms flailing around now that the water is still too shallow for you to not be able to touch the bottom.

Plunges of water drip onto your face, both from your doing and Richie’s, and the others are advancing rapidly to come too your aid. Unfortunately nothing else can be done. Richie has no other options but to let you go, and the hand drags you to the middle of the lake.

Once you’re far enough away that you can’t touch the bottom with your feet anymore, the hand lets go, and you’re left to flounder on your own. Your legs slap around, trying with all your might to stay afloat and give the losers an opportunity to save you. A haunting chuckle breezes over the shell of your ear, and then the hand returns, satisfied with watching you struggle and panic for a while, but now ready to increase the terror.

You get one more chance to scream and suck in a handful of fresh air, and then your sinking down, under the surface.

The water douses your ears, muffles your ability to hear and see, and suffocates you with her insistence. You open your mouth, but it can’t produce a scream anymore, and you realize that you are completely as utterly doomed.

The hand has yet to free you, and it continues to pull you down. With each second that ticks by the fire in your chest spreads, and is unable to be ignored. After barely a few seconds, your movements turn sluggish, and you stop fighting against the hand. It’s at that time that it finally loosens his hold, but the fire has dilated up so much you can’t focus on anything other than the pain. Without ever learning how to swim, you wouldn’t be able to make it to shore anyway.

You read somewhere once that as soon as you swallow in water and it fills your lungs, you’ll die, and the pain will stop.

Your life plan hadn’t included dying this young in your life, but if you must go, you’d rather have it be quick. Losing the strength to hold out any longer, you open your mouth, and feel two separate pair of hands unclasps around your arms. The anxiety inside of you spikes, but you lack the energy to struggle against the grip, so you allow yourself to be guided. It’s not until your head breaks up from the water, and o2 greets you in plenty, that you see that the hands have brought you back up, instead of down.

You gasp, coughing up water, feeling as any minute you could pass out on the spot.

‘Jesus Y/N, stop struggling. We’re going to get you out.’

The two pairs of hands that saved you from drowning turn out to be Mike and Bill, and the float with you to the side of quarry where Eddie is gearing up to perform cpr if needed. If you had some breath back in your body, you would laugh at the sight.

Bev and Richie help drag you onto the dry rocks, away from the water, but still too close for your liking.

‘Get away’, you retches, crawling back in your arms. Eddie, who has been checking you over, tuts, but you don’t let it stop you.

‘It grabbed me. It fucking grabbed me. Get away from the water.’ You think you begin to cry, out of relief and alarm, but you can’t disentangle the water with your fluid.

‘There was nothing out there Y/N’, Ben tries to sooth, approaching you like a frightened animal. Eddie is less cautious, and stamps towards your with a frown on his face. He turns you on your side, his instruction not too brazen but still firm.

‘There was though guys. I swear on Eddie’s mom that something pulled her away.’

‘I saw it too,’ Eddie conforms, not looking away from your body, checking for any permanent damage.

‘Guys,’ Bev interject with a head shake. Her eyes gesture to you, shivering with wet clothes and crying hysterically. ‘Not now.’

‘Yeah. We’ll t-t-talk about it l-l-later.’

It’s Bev that gently ushers Eddie’s prodding hands away, as she opens her arms and awaits to see you reaction. You, once you pick up on what’s happening, accept gratefully, your tears subsiding only slightly once your wrapped up. The others join the cuddle pile soon enough, until there’s a shield of people protecting you and obstructing your view of the water.

‘Promise me we won’t ever go in there again. Not any of you. Please,’ you beg, afraid not solely for your life but for theirs as well.

‘Okay, okay Y/N. We promise.’

[chryzure-archive]

PLEASE. ANASTASIA IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE ANIMATED MOVIES EVER (never watched the musical tho soz) AND THIS AU… IM VERY VERY VERY INTRIGUED. I NEED TO KNOW MORE. plus, more opportunities for chrysi to wear pretty dresses and jacks to be an idiot in love w her <333

OKAY OKAY OKAY, I NEED YOU TO KNOW THAT I’VE LITERALLY BEEN LISTENING TO THE ENTIRE SOUNDTRACK ON REPEAT LATELY AS I’VE BEEN PUTTING EVERYTHING TOGETHER FOR MY AU, SO THIS IS SUPER APPRECIATED!!! (and the musical is okay, there’s no curses and the like. I do enjoy the music! I don’t love the story.)

[under a read-more bc I’m not concise and I like planning out my fics while explaining them]

So I’ve been playing with the idea of seeing young!Jacks as a prince (still magical, still the Prince of Hearts, but also it opens up to 14 y/o him being bitten by feral Princess Chrysi, which is important to me. Like, medically crucial.) at the ball thrown by Chrysi’s parents. They share a brief dance, then Chrysi’s called up to her family, where her aunt (Marienna) gifts her the necklace. She’s happy about being promised to be taken to Paris (? I’m playing with the world a bit and making it fantasy-based), and she goes off to play in the wintery gardens. Where Jacks annoys her enough to make her bite him. Which is totally fair, honestly. 

But because she was out in the gardens causing mischief (she made Jacks cry, but he’d never admit it), she’s sent to bed early. Which means she missed the whole “death curse” proclamation from Ayon. The next time she wakes up, it’s in the middle of the night to a burning palace. Marienna and Jacks are the ones trying to get her out--somehow they get separated from Jacks (he gets hit pretty hard on the head), but they manage to get to the train station. Events proceed as they do in the movie at this part. 

Note: Ayon’s reasoning for the death curse has to do with being thrown out of the palace on grounds of being cruel and evil and generally a bad dude all around. Clarence is Aria’s second husband. He’s bitter about being taken from his position of power, and since he was Aria’s first husband, he was hoping that all of the Solstice family would mean he would end up becoming the new monarch. He didn’t anticipate karma coming around to kill him (or send him in a weird cursed limbo state, where he’s rotting alive). He’s still a little bitter about it, all these years later.

Additional note that I couldn’t think of a fluid way of bringing it up: Jacks loved Aria. Chrysi’s mom was really sweet and cool to him and he always wanted her attention. I just think that in another AU, it would be fun to play with that dynamic of her being the mom he wished he could’ve had.

Jump to the present--Chrysi’s being kicked from the orphanage finally, aged 24 (she stuck around for a couple years because she was crucial to keeping the littles under control). She goes to the biggest city nearby, with her little cat in tow (I’m debating which cat it’ll be, but I love Catster so much that it might end up being him ;;;).

In that same town, Jacks is plotting a way to trick Marienna into thinking her niece is still alive. Why? Well, in the time of the original ball to present, he wound up getting involved with a certain someone (Tella) and got his comeuppance via losing his title and his reputation dragged through the mud. His ability to make people love him isn’t enough to counteract it, so he’s trying to clear his name by so generously finding the lost princess Chryseis and returning her to her aunt. Maybe then, Tella will look his way. He’s nothing if not dedicated. 

Simeon thinks this is all a very bad idea, but he’s going along with it because this is his only chance to get back to Luna Rune right now. 

Jacks and Simeon are only friends because Jacks knows what’s going on with Simeon’s heart situation. Simeon doesn’t like it, but eventually he began to actually view Jacks as a friend. Which is... worse. Infinitely worse. 

They meet Chrysi (now going by Chrys, which is close enough, and easy enough for Jacks to lie and say that she’s actually Chryseis) and convince her to join them. Jacks doesn’t think she’s the real princess at all ( “I have her teeth marks etched into my arm forever. If she were still alive, I’d know.” ), but Chrysi thinks it wouldn’t hurt to see if Marienna recognizes her. Simeon hates all of this situation. He misses his girlfriend so much. 

So there’s the whole train situation (complete with Chrysi tearing into Jacks viciously, and Simeon’s keeping track of the amount of times she’s put him in his place. Approximately fifty-seven, and he thinks that number will increase exponentially along the course of their journey. It’s going to be a fun ride). Ayon’s woken up in the nether-wherever-he-is when he realizes that his curse was never completed. So he sends his little minions to send the train off its tracks to kill all of them. 

Doesn’t work, Chrysi senses something’s wrong (which Jacks thinks is absurd, even when she’s right), so they manage to narrowly avoid death. Simeon believes in Chrysi’s sixth sense, but Jacks is still skeptical. 

Even still, they make it to the boat--all the while, Simeon’s quizzing Chrysi on her past + manners of royalty, and all that. Jacks will chime in every now and then, but he never explains why he knows so much about the life of a noble. Simeon doesn’t answer Chrysi when she asks him what that’s all about. 

Oh, and during this entire time, Jacks has had Simeon picking out Chrysi’s “undercover” outfits, because he doesn’t want her to be too noticeable, but he doesn’t want her looking “homeless”. Chrysi takes great offense to what he says, even if he has a little bit of a point. This is important because Jacks finally picks out a dress for her himself once they get to the boat. (A dress Simeon made, but he’s not worried about the details). 

Big mistake on Jacks’s part, because now he’s noticing just how pretty Chrysi is. But of course she’s pretty--she has to pull off being a princess. Princesses are pretty. He chose her well. 

But still, Simeon notices there’s something going on between Chrysi and Jacks--especially obvious when Jacks can’t tear his eyes from her, and even more obvious when he’s “teaching” her how to dance (even though she already seems to know how to). 

The romantic tension on this boat is astronomical. Chrysi’s clueless to it. Jacks is desperately trying to ignore it. Simeon thinks he’s getting a rash from it.

(I’m sprinkling in more near-death situations that Chrysi’s steered them away from btw, but I haven’t decided what. But it’s important that you know her sixth sense is working just fine, untillll--)

Ayon sends his little nightmare demons to try and lure Chrysi off the edge of the ship. She’s having a lovely dream in the meantime, though it quickly takes a turn for the worst. 

Jacks is the one that wakes up, sensing something’s wrong. He finds Chrysi’s bed empty and the wrong feeling turns into panic. 

He finds Chrysi tipping over the edge of the boat. He only just manages to get to her in time, hauling her back from danger while his heart is pounding in his chest (he doesn’t want to think about it, not at all). When Chrysi wakes up, she starts crying into his chest and Jacks is suddenly struck by how small and fragile she’s been this entire time. 

Okay, maybe he’s catching feelings. 

Simeon’s alarmed by the news that Chrysi almost died the next morning. He wasn’t informed of any of this danger, when he probably should’ve been. Oh well. 

They get to (Paris? Fantasy-Paris???) event-free afterwards (though Chrysi and Jacks are getting closer, but they will deny it furiously). They meet with Luna Rune (Simeon’s so fucking excited!!! He can see his girlfriend again!), who puts them in contact with Kio, Marienna’s right-hand man. They have to get through him to be put in contact with Marienna herself. 

But, oh dear! She’s decided to stop holding out on the hope her niece is alive! So she won’t see anyone else! 

Kio still meets with them, because why not + he and Jacks get along (red flag). They’re catching up--Chrysi mentioning snippets of what she remembers (which are just details Jacks and Simeon trained her on), until she mentions that she used to be a nightmare child. She even bit a boy so hard on the arm that he started crying and bleeding! Crazy, right?

Jacks panics. Because there’s no way. No fucking way. 

He abruptly leaves in the middle of the tea party to get fresh air, which isn’t fresh enough for him. He almost starts hyperventilating, even though it really doesn’t matter as much as he thinks it does. Simeon finds him (and he’s mad, because that’s really rude!!! And Chrysi’s inside, freaking out!!!!) and tells him as much: “Even if she is the real princess, that means... so what? We aren’t lying to her aunt this time. It’s a win-win situation!” “It means that it wasn’t in the job description!” “... You made the job description!”

Jacks eventually realizes Simeon’s technically right, so he returns--though not without Simeon telling Jacks that he needs to tell Chrysi the truth of what he’s doing + why he’s doing it. It won’t end well if he leads Chrysi on while trying to get with another princess this entire time. 

Chrysi’s acting coldly towards him because he abandoned her, but... sigh. Simeon said he found them a hotel room (while he stays with Luna Rune, separately, because... well, they want their alone time!!!), but they get there, and oh nooooo.... only one bed..... what a shame.

They have a pretty heated argument, before Jacks admits he’s wrong, which stuns Chrysi. She didn’t realize he was capable of taking responsibility. 

He asks her if she wants to go out and enjoy a night on the town. She agrees tentatively, because he has saved her life and she owes him one now, right? (Jacks looks really uncomfortable when she says this though, and she doesn’t know why).

They go out and enjoy a night out, and when they get back, she’s kind enough to let him sleep in the bed as well. After all, it was an exhausting day, and it’s a little rude to have him sleep on the rinky-dink couch after all this time. He’s not about to say no. 

But they barely sleep. They’re both just staring up at the ceiling silently. Then Chrysi breaks the silence, because she can’t stand it. 

Then they don’t sleep anyway, because they’re talking to each other all night. Jacks finally admits to himself that his heart is beating because he loves Chrysi, even though it sorta-beat for Tella. He thinks this is more than what he had with Tella. 

The next day is the ballet. Kio set up a rendezvous with Marienna against his better judgement, and Jacks was planning on convincing Marienna of Chrysi being her niece. 

He begins to do Chrysi’s hair for the ballet (brushing it until it shines, braiding it, weaving little jewels into it... just normal, every day things for a man to do for his not-crush), but then Luna Rune bursts into the room (Simeon gave her the key) and forces Jacks out--because “neither of you get to see us until we’re ready” “This isn’t a wedding!” “I don’t care! Get out!”

Then that starstruck look of love scene happens and... yeah. Yeahhhh. Jacks thinks his heart is about to burst from his chest. 

They end up holding hands through the entire ballet, because Jacks noticed she was tearing up her program into a million little pieces and he wanted to distract her. Complicated feelings all around, even though they aren’t complicated and they like each other soso much ;;;;

Jacks excuses himself to talk Marienna into talking with Chrysi, but she refuses him point-blank. Jacks is frustrated, because he did not go through almost dying from a death curse and saving Chrysi from said death curse and falling in love with her for Marienna to say no. 

So when Marienna leaves the ballet, he hijacks her car (and got a lovely earful from her the entire way over) and drives her to the hotel he and Chrysi were staying at. 

Marienna reluctantly goes up to see Chrysi (because this is the only way she can think to get Jacks to leave her alone). When she walks in, however, she can immediately see Clarence in her face and Aria with her hair. She’s stunned, but then she and Chrysi end up talking deep into the night about their past and princesses and family. 

Jacks decides to crash at Simeon and Luna Rune’s place for the night, happy that everything turned out perfectly (even though he’s adjusted his plans to now include Chrysi. He no longer wants to be part of the noble class for Tella, but for Chrysi--so he can properly court her, as the Prince of Hearts untarnished). 

Unfortunately for him, Marienna guessed at his original plans and informed Chrysi that he was probably already running back to Tella to try and win her over. That his name would be cleared and he’d be allowed into high-class functions as soon as Marienna publicly announced he’d returned her long-lost niece to her. 

Now, this is the first time Chrysi’s heard of Jacks’s fling with the princess, and she’s understandably confused and irritated. 

The next day, she confronts him about it. Jacks doesn’t know what to do, so he falls into self-sabotage, as he’s prone to do, and he hates himself as he admits, yes, he used Chrysi to get back to this other princess, and he’d surprised himself by finding the actual lost princess along the way. That pisses Chrysi off even more, because not only did he use her, but he was planning on lying to Marienna. She gives him a pretty hard slap to remember her by, then tells him that she doesn’t want him anywhere near her ever again. Fair enough, I guess. 

He eventually goes to Marienna in secret and begs her to keep him out of the story of reuniting Chrysi with her. Understandably, Marienna’s confused--doesn’t he want to return to his Southern princess?--but Jacks says he stopped caring. He’ll leave quietly and let Chrysi enjoy her new life. 

This is the most selfless he’s ever been, and it shocks Marienna, but she agrees to keep his involvement a secret. She also decides she won’t tell Chrysi of what Jacks asked of her--she doesn’t want her niece to get caught up in the Prince of Hearts. 

Unfortunately for them, on the night of Chrysi’s crowning, Ayon decides to take matters into his own hands and kill Chrysi. Jacks is on his journey out of the country when he gets a really bad feeling (Chrysi’s suspicious sixth sense has infected him).

Chrysi gets lured into the gardens and--I’m sure you know what scene I’m talking about. There’s a whole reveal from Ayon, Chrysi starts to fight him + look for an exit to get away, and Jacks is stupid enough to step in to save her. Which works, but she’s still a little mad at him for putting himself in danger (anger aside, she still has feelings for him, regretfully). 

During the scuffle, he gets knocked out--but Chrysi’s too far away to discern how bad his head injury is. She starts fighting Ayon with a frenzied fear, because she’s scared he’s killed Jacks. She eventually gets hold of his talisman and destroys it, which ends rather poorly for Ayon. The curse is unraveled, leaving Chrysi and Jacks in the wreckage of the gardens. 

Chrysi tries to wake Jacks up, but he won’t immediately come to. She fears the worst and begins to cry. Buuuuut then he wakes up and she hits him directly in the face before he can see her tears. He’s irritated. 

But then they run away together and it’s happy and romantic and the end. It’s a nice, happy little story :) (I’m trying to figure out how to add more drama tbh, I love hurting Jacks and making him cry <3) 

But that’s what I have for now! I’m definitely going to change some things (I want to make it more magical), but there it is!!!

[incubae-fics]

Someday [AU!Raestrao]

Pairing: AU!James x Female!Reader

Warnings: Major angst, trigger warning for a dark-ish theme. 

A/N: hi im alive and this is what I have to give. I will never get into explicit details of the things AU!James endured, but what I am implying can be triggering for some. This AU gets very dark and it stems from my shitty mind I guess? When playing the game, I felt like their ‘father’ would actually be far worse and that their mothers would be their only saving grace. They simply became corrupted because of him. Especially when he took their physical forms. I feel like he’d take their forms bc they were, in his eyes, making his potential heirs weak. While he intends for james to take over, he still needed back-ups should he or any of his brothers fail. Also I want to flesh out my au. Prepare for another like this, but with sam having a weird premonitional dream of his love, and waking up to cold reality. oop

Featherlight touches of warmth glide across his bare skin. It feels as though someone is tracing soft patterns along the expanse of his chest and neck. For some odd reason, he does not panic. He simply lays still and basks in the sweet attention. He has no idea who is touching him but... he does not feel gross. He feels.. happy?

He can hear her huff out a soft laugh near his ear, her breath ever so slightly brushing on his skin. A sweet scent wafts past his nose- everything feels soft around him. His head is well cushioned and whatever sheets he can feel are smooth against him. His bleary eyes struggle to see anything. A figure hovers above him, another giggle slipping out.

“Raestrao... we can’t sleep in all day..”

The sound of his name leaving her lips sends a shudder throughout his body. It is not the usual disgusted shiver he gets when.. someone else says it, no. This shiver makes the very tips of his fingers and toes tingle. It makes his mind beg him to open his mouth and say ‘call for me again’. It makes him want in way he had never felt before. 

All his eyes can catch are what he believes is a soft and faded pink color. Like an odd sunrise he’s never seen in his realm. Off-white walls, a slight mound of soft sheets. He wishes his mouth would open- he had questions but.. he’d never felt so content. So.. loved- was this love? Was it truly?

“Raestrao...”, she calls again, voice sweeter than the finest sugars the demon realm could produce.

He can feel fingers lacing through his own- soft- small, almost. Unintentionally, he brings the hand up to where he believes his mouth is, placing a kiss to the back of it. The sweet scent from earlier returns, more potent now. Something like a warm vanilla..

Another huff of laughter, this one more delighted than the last. “Lazy bones.. get up..”

Her fingers move to his face, softly cupping his cheek, “Wake up now..”

The fingers turn cold- chilling him to his core. The pinks turn to a dark purple that he recognizes- disgust gnaws it’s way into the deepest pit of his belly- he feels like he is plummeting. Everything is falling away.

“Raestrao! Raestrao no!”, her voice is pleading- close to absolutely screaming-

Laughter soon fills his ears again. This laughter is not happy or delighted- it  is familiar. Bitter amusement.. some slight caution.

“Dreaming of me, dear? I’m so flattered.”, her voice feels so cruel to him on this morning.

What a lovely dream to have in the middle of his own personal hell. Love? For a demon? He can no longer believe in such fairy tales. He’s trapped here, with this awful woman. Her touches make him feel vile and used. He wishes he could scrape off every single last piece of his skin that her fingertips have ever touched.

“Speechless because you’ve been caught? How cute..”, she says. He doesn’t have to open her eyes to know her eyes hold irritation. He can’t look at her now.

He fears his eyes may betray him if he does. They burn in a familiar way. How many times has he shed tears this past week? His father would have his head if he knew. Or he’d force him to do a repeat of last month. Force him to... desensitize himself.

‘You cannot feel anything for anyone! Not your mother! Not your brothers! Not even me!’, he had told him, and then.. he handed him the whip.

“Raestrao, dear. I’d appreciate it if you gave me some attention. Or must I drag your father in to teach you how to-”

“No. I’m tired.”, he snaps. It’s all he can do to stop himself from breaking down in front of her. He hates that he’s sure she’d like that. All she ever wants is to force feed him or.. have control over him. He felt like some rare possession, and not in a good way.

She looked at him like he was something to be won..

Not like the tired and broken young man she made him into. Stealing him away into the night, no matter how much he said no..

“Oh my..”, she says, amusement now in her tone, “Tough today, aren’t we? Alright. I suppose you’ve earned some rest. However, in return, I do expect that same roughness for our lesson tonight, yes?”

Her vile hand slides across his chest in a way that makes him wish he’d spontaneously combust. She gives one last huff of laughter before seeing herself out. He holds his breath, listening to the door slide shut, and then waiting on her footsteps to fully fade down the hall before inhaling once more.

His breaths become shaky, chest shuddering with each raw intake of breath. He feels the weight of everything crash on him. The hazy memory of the dream crashing down onto him- it caves his chest in. It forces him to roll over and silently scream into his pillow. No one could hear him. No one could watch over him as he absolutely collapsed.

He couldn’t even see the floating orb of his mother- or what was left of her. She had been locked away for good now. 

His brothers- he had to push them away for their safety.

There was no one to talk to- there was no mystery love.. nothing-

“O-oh, hi. Uh- I’m ___. I’m ___’s best friend, I’ve heard good things about you.”

Her voice oddly strikes him as familiar, but he banishes the thought immediately. “Nice to meet you.”, he says, plainly with not even an ounce of interest. He’d come to regret it later.

It isn’t his fault though. No one ever really knows who the love of their life is as soon as they meet them. Life would be no fun if that were the case..

*****

@pinkmousey​ ilysm im sorry asdfgh

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

Bad timing part.2 | tom holland x fem!reader

part.1

Summary: Tom stake to his words. In fact, since the viagra incident, your life was in a constant loop of teasing and frustration. But the torture ended when the boy finally asked you to marry him. Joy and happiness overwhelmed you, but you couldn’t help asking yourself a single question: what will happen during your honeymoon?

Warnings: language, sexual teasing/tension, SMUT including romantic first time sex fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) and sooo much more, oh and fluff too obviously!

Word Count: 5228

A/N: you cheeky beauts 😏... so many of you asked for a part2 whaaaat!! I think I’ve left you guys a bit frustrated, am I right? 😜 so I tried to please everyone bc you all gave me ideas and stuff, so it’s a mix of everything I guess? 👀 as originally requested by @photoshopart15 but also as a general demand, here it is! hope you will enjoy it as much as the first one, you cheeky beasts 😉✨ did I enjoy writing it too much? judging by the word count... HECK YES 🙈

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Tom is a kind and well-mannered man, always putting the others before himself. You knew that since day one. And when he had a precise idea in mind, boy does he keeps his words until he goes fully through it.

After the viagra incident Tom was teasing you any time he had the chance, to the point you would have to lock yourself into a room or just go out by yourself to calm down. You have never been so fuzzy, your whole face starting to keep the blushing aspect. Any occasion was an excuse to push you at your limits. And he loved it. But you kind of got used to it by the time and well, and learnt to live with it.

Then came the day Tom proposed to you. 

And later came the weeding.

"I do."

You remember saying these two special words during the ceremony. Exchanging vows with your loved one surrounded by the people who are precious to you both is just how you imagined that day. Beautiful yet intimate, with little extravaganza touches from Tom. 

The best day of your life.

The sun begins to set little by little, letting behind it an orange-reddish sky before it disappears below the horizon. Some rays still light the bedroom you actually are. The peaceful roll of the waves running aground the shore livens up the surrounding, sometimes followed by tropical birds’ cries. Calm. Total serenity. And relaxing, just what you needed.

For your honeymoon, Tom booked a villa on stilts in the Maldives for three weeks. You arrived a few hours ago, slightly bitten up by the jet lag but more than happy to be finally there. No one around but you and the beach of the island at five minutes by boat. You are totally living the dream.

As the weather has nothing to do with London at the moment, you just wear a simple top and some sport shorts. Your hair put into a messy bun, you lay on your stomach on the king size bed that is at the perfect place to watch the sunset. Right in front of it, the patio door widely open to this magnificent scenery and the last ray warming up your exposed skin. Phone in hands, you scroll through it as Harry already sent you the first pictures he took of the wedding.

You couldn’t suppress the smile on your face. Both you and Tom had bright smiles on the photographs, sometimes with teary eyes due to emotion but still radiating happiness and love for each other. 

A new chapter of your life just started and you can’t wait to see where it will take you with the man you love.

Speak of the devil, you notice now that the running water coming from the bathroom stops. Just like the humming from inside. Another two minutes later, the wooden door opens to reveal your newly husband freshly exiting the bathroom, only wearing a boxer tight around everything his hips and hair still wet. And to think that he can look hot with and without clothes... and that he is now officially yours.

You hear his steps on the creaking parquet as he approaches your shared bed and look over your shoulder. Then the bed dips from the weight of his body next to you.

"Looks like Harry did a great job with the pictures, right?"

Tom’s hot breath is next to your ear as he speaks, sending you chills over your body. When you turn slightly your head towards him, his face is close to yours that you can feel the heat coming from him. His eyes look lovingly at the picture you stopped on: both of you sharing a kiss after your vows.

“The pictures are beautiful, indeed” you reply in a whisper, eyes back on your phone.

You feel him leave a kiss on top of your exposed shoulder, his lips warm from his previous shower. He then put his chin on the nap of your neck, getting closer as if searching for more closeness, his still wet torso against half your back.

“I want to frame that one when we go back home” Tom adds while putting one hand over yours which holds the phone.

Your heart is thumping from many emotions rushing through your mind and body. You sure feel blessed to be now married to this young man you knew since your young age, not to forget how attracted you are to each other. Yet the incident of “that day” still remains fresh in the back of your head. 

But you were a newly married couple now so why would you be frighten or self-conscious about... what has to come? That is right, you have no reason to be scared. Not at all.

You lock your phone and let it fall on the soft sheets. Your hands still linked, you now intertwine your fingers with his as you kiss his cheek then repeat the action a few times, a bit slower and lips never leaving his skin. Tom slightly pulls away turning his head to look at your face, admiring the gleam in your eyes that are like an open book to him. 

In a light motion Tom pushes your upper body to make you turn on your back. After biting his lips to hide a smirk, he slides closer to you and both of you roll on the bed followed by giggles. Now wrapping his strong arms around your frame, Tom hugs you tightly against his chest.

“My beautiful wife...” he mumbled, pressing the tip of his nose into the tresses of your hair. “... Mrs. Holland.”

The last statement makes you heart thump heavily, cheeks starting to redden. 

“I love you, Tom, so much” you whisper, answering the unspoken way his heart relayed just how much he loves you as well. 

A giggle escapes your lips when he huffs a hot breath against the rim of your ear squeezing you even tighter in his arms before finally relaxing into a soft cuddle. Sliding one of your arms around his back, you snuggle into his frame trying to be as close to his body as possible so he can be enveloped by your warmth and body heat.

Then Tom shifts just a bit placing his hand on your cheek, getting you to tilt your head up where he admires the shade and gleam of your beautiful eyes before pulling you to meet his lips. Instantly your body melts under the gentle and warm sway of his kiss, that feels soft and sweet like the perfect flavour of ice cream. 

The moment Tom pulls away your eyes flutter hazily, telling him you want another with the soft way you whisper his name. 

"Someone’s needy..." 

Not trying to hide his smirk anymore, the man is more than happy to give you all the kisses you could ever want as he leans down again meeting your lips in the middle. One more kiss turns into many, as one of your hands glide into his wild brown hair. Your eyes soften, parting your lips when his tongue slides over your top lip wanting to make the kisses more steamy.

The heated sway of his slick muscle laps around your own slowly and sensually coating it with his saliva, letting you become enthralled and overwhelmed so much by his passion that a small murmur of a moan hazes into his lips.

"Mmh, I can never get enough of the way you taste" Tom mutters the moment he pulls away licking his lips, noting the thin trail of saliva connecting you together.

He then trails the edge of his lips down your neck while placing soft enticing feather-like kisses.

“What do you say about me marking this gorgeous body of yours?” he rasps, letting the heat of his breath haze against your skin and picks a soft patch to suck on. 

It takes you a moment to realise he is indeed leaving you a hickey. Such a mark would not be the first one he has given you, but you always remind him to not make them too big and somewhere easy to hide. But today, you don’t want to impose him any restriction. 

And that is when you feel some kind of pressure... between your legs. More precisely against your core. You let out a high pitch squeal when the steady pressure evolves into back and forth moves. You can’t stop a few moans escaping from your mouth at the feeling, Tom’s hips in total rythme with his sucking.

Your body arches more into his, letting him have complete access to your neck. Tom slides his tongue up and down, sucking and swirling his muscle till a deep purple love bite is forming against your skin, right on the side of your collarbone. Only then does he pull away to admire his handy work.

A tingle slides through your body as he uses a few of his fingers to caress over your love bruise, as if he could feel how warm and pulsating your skin and heart are. Short-winded and almost sweating, your eyes still blurry with what just happened, and definitely wet down there. A total reminder of the “incident”.

Then you see it. His huge deadly smirk, staring at you so deep as he perfectly knows what he is doing to you. 

And without a word Tom stands up from over you and the bed, passing his finger through his now dry curls as he starts walking towards his luggage on the other side of the room.

“Alright, a boat’s gonna take us to the restaurant of the island for 7pm so let’s get ready.”

And the man just leaves you still on the bed to go change into the bathroom. You roll onto your side, breath still short while squeezing your thighs together to find some relieve.

That. Fucking. Bastard.

* * * * 

Fortunately, the delicious food and tasty cocktails appeased your infuriated more like frustrated state from earlier. You were not THAT mad at Tom... but still. Since you left the villa to have dinner on the beach, you never felt so tensed. You tried your best to not show your husband bad attitude because first, he doesn’t deserve any of it and two... There is no other reason, actually. 

You racked your brains all evening. You knew you were ready, and that is why you mostly welcomed Tom into your shared steamy embrace. And it all stopped abruptly like he did every times since the viagra incident. But now, you were married so why does he keep playing that hell of a teasing game? 

So you kept your composure as much as you could, even when Tom tried to be touchy-feely. Each time both your skins made contact, it surprised you to the point Tom started wondering if you were alright. But you still managed to conceal your weird behaviour to him.

But he still noticed something was on.

* * * *

You are finally back to the villa. Tom gentlemanly helps you to get out of the little boat, not without nearly falling into the sea as doing so. At least, his usual goofy self always brings a smile on your face. Tom opens the door to let you in first, and you thank him as you do.

Entering the house you stop when you notice the inside plunged into complete darkness, but with candles lighten up here and there. In the air flutters a calming perfume of tropical flower, just enough to mix with the salty perfume of the sea. And at your feet are spread flowers petals as if creating a path to lead you somewhere.

“You like it?” Tom whispers in you ears, giving you the chills.

“T-That’s really pretty, but why-”

“Shh, you will see, princess.”

Before you can finish your sentence, Tom’s hands gently press onto your hips and he slowly pushes you to make you walk. As he walks you through the dark villa - and banging into some furnitures on the way which makes you laugh again, you now are able to guess where he takes you. 

Tom then stops you in front of the familiar wooden door to open it, and before your eyes is a nicely arranged the big bathroom with the same lighted candles around the bathtub already filled up with water and petals. But what takes your breath away may for sure be the beautiful view from the patio window on which the bathtub is placed against. You can still hear and see the sea waves in the darkness of the night, but in the distance you can make out some lights coming from the next door island. There are actually curtains on both sides of the window, slightly closed to keep some intimacy but still a bit see-through.

A bright blush decorates your cheeks at all the display as suddenly tones of intimate thoughts crosse your mind. 

“As cliché as it sounds, I always wanted to take a bath together. And now that we are married...” Tom interrupts himself to slide his arms around your hips, as you take a breath and lean back against his chest. 

“Well now that we are married, I wanted to try it with you. Do you want too?” He murmures with his suave voice, placing a soft kiss against your slender neck as you nod your head. 

“Y-You also brought some champagne, as I see” you notice, still overwhelmed in the warm embrace of your lover. 

The bottle in an ice bucket and two flutes glasses are nicely presented on a wooden coffee table next to the bath. Tom nods against your cheek, leaving another kiss there. With a pounding heart you nuzzle your face against his, feeling his smooth face on your lips and his natural scent filling your nostrils. 

"Can I undress you? Or we can undress each other? Piece... by... piece..." Tom places a kiss after each word, making you feel all warm and tingly as he then trails his hands down your hips and massages your thighs under the summer dress you decided to wear tonight.

"Ah... I like the sound of that. Can I go first, please?" you shyly ask, looking at him through your long eyelashes.

After moving you to the center of the bathroom, Tom turns your body around to face him and agrees to your demand. He is unsurprised when you start unbuttoning his stripped white and lavender shirt. Letting it fall at his feet, he takes his cue and bends down to his knees, running his hands up and down both your legs up under your dress. 

You can't take your eyes off his sleek and sculptured chest muscles. Your fingers wander along his neck to then stop on his broad shoulders. 

Smirking at your focused eyes Tom takes the edge of your dress to pull it up your hips, your thighs finally at his mercy. As he purposefully has a gander at your black coloured panties, he gives both your thighs a nice warm kiss and then stands up while tugging your dress upend off your entire body.

A pant full of desire escapes your lips so Tom takes a little initiative and grabs your hand to place it on the front of his darted white pants, encouraging you to unbutton and slide the zipper down. Which you do after a few seconds of looking into his lustful brown eyes, pushing at the waistband before the material gladly slips down his long legs and pools around his ankles.

He kicks his pants away before encouraging you to approach him closer. But you stop him and with trembling hands, you slowly unclasp your bra, not daring to look directly at Tom as your cheeks keep flushing.

His tongue licks his bottom lip admiring the outline of your breasts coming into view. Tom thought you would be a little reluctant to completely undress in front of each other, even if he has seen your gorgeous curves before but you surprise him by taking the first step yourself.

With blushy cheeks, you still hide your almost exposed tits with an arm. Tom can't help himself when he steps up to your body and presses your bare chests together, meeting you in the middle for a kiss. The feeling of your soft breasts is a complete and utter turn on for him, as his hands began to gently explore your body a little by caressing around your hips and down your back before dipping one into the back of your panties to give your bottom a nice squeeze.

A moan of his name hazes into his mouth as you wrap both your hands around his rippling back muscles, while you can feel him greedily wanting to pull down your last remaining article of clothing. 

But you feel he doesn’t want to force you into anything you don’t want to. Or maybe... will Tom actually interrupt everything like before dinner? That would be even worse, just by analysing the current situation you are in. Despite being a little jittery with tones of questions in mind, your own hands slide down his hips and push at his boxers, blushing at the way they easily slide down his legs lower on his v-line.

"Adventurous, little missy?” Tom teasingly rasps when you can't help but fully eye his now well endowed manhood for the first time. 

It is not surprising that you stutter out an answer and tilt your face away, but it gives him a moment to caress down your stomach and grip the waistband of your panties and lower them leaving you both equally naked.

Your hands shake with embarrassment but since Tom is not hiding himself, you try to adapt some of his courage and allow the man you love to have an unhindered view of your body that he has desired for so long. And he takes full advantage of bouncing his eyes up and down with zero shame.

"Dammit baby, have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are?" he groans softly in defeat, nestling his face in your neck.

A smile slides up your lips as you whisper you feel the exact same way, causing him to face you again and cup both of your cheeks for a nice warm kiss. Once you part, he leads the way into the tub which is delightfully warm enough and encourages you to sit between his legs. 

At first you are still a bit shy about that but don't really have a choice as you both slide down and sit in the water. Your heartbeat is thundering, which doesn’t help the fact you can properly feel the shape of his cock against the bottom of your ass. It is way too late to shy away now. Tom is indeed hard, clearly turned on from having his naked wife in his arms for the first time. Leaning forward, he gives the nape of your neck a warm and sensual kiss while both of his hands caress up and down your now soaked legs.

"Mhm, Tom... Y-you can touch me..." you murmur to him leaning back and allowing him more access to your neck, which he takes advantage of with many more kisses and several gentle nibbles, enjoying your flavour.

"Where would you like me to touch you, gorgeous?"

Taking a breath, your hands slide under the water and grab both his, placing them against your breasts. Your matching golden rings make contact and instantly, Tom starts slowly and sensually groping them, earning some very satisfying skin tingling moans of his name from your perfectly pink lips.

"You make my mind so hazy, Tom... All the damn time" you whisper between light moans, his large hands making wonders.

Deciding to explore another part of your body, his fingers pet down your stomach and edge your legs further apart before gliding down the womanly outline of your slit. 

"A-ah, Tom...!" you whimper out of surprise, but his touch is slow and sensual and it assures you he just wants to make you feel good.

When your body starts to relax, Tom continues his soft pleasuring of your lower lips, while still squeezing one of your breasts and kissing both your neck and shoulder several times. The moment he curls one digit between your warm folds, your entire body spasms with waves of foreign pleasure.

You begin panting, as if showcasing how unprepared you were for this sensation. But he calms you down using his free hand to push your cheek to meet his lips while he works a slow rhythm of back and forth. Quickly, the curl and sway of his slender digit starts to feel utterly amazing so he slowly adds a second one, making you moan of pleasure.

 “O-oh, Tom! I-It feels so good!”

Tom grins as he nips at your neck to feel the vibrations of your mewls of delight, while he notes the subtle difference between the sticky sensation starting to warm his fingers and the water around. However after pleasuring you for awhile he pulls away and whispers into the rim of your ear, his desires to continue this in bed.

“(Y/n), I want you so fucking bad and I want to thoroughly enjoy you” Tom growls as he nibbles your lobe between his teeth, slightly tugging it.

It sounds almost desperate and what can you say? You were as much desperate as he is right now, so you have no intention of denying him after coming this far. You prove your husband how deeply in love you are with him by turning in his lap, wrapping both hands around his neck and deeply kissing him.

Using his amazing upper body strength to pick you up bridal style, he lets the water thoroughly drip from both your bodies before taking careful steps out of the tub. Thankfully, there is a rug on the floor so he doesn't slip or slide as he rests your butt down against the sink. 

You smile at him with soft pink cheeks as he tries to dry you off a bit. But it is pretty much a lost cause since Tom just admires your body for the most part. He uses another towel to dry himself off a little before being very direct with the way he pushes apart your knees and picks you back up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his back and making you blush brightly as your hands cling to his broad shoulders.

The next thing you know, your back is laying against the soft mattress where he instantly starts some very sensual kisses. Starting with your lips and working down to your neck, eventually claiming one of your soft nipples. 

"Mhm Tom, I love your kisses so much" you practically purr to him, unable to do much but run your hands through his brown locks and down just a bit of his smooth back muscles. Honestly, you are kind of grateful for his hungry desire to take the lead, as the way he is sucking and licking between both of your breasts just feels sensational.

His coffee orbs glance up as he lets go of one of your tits with a juicy pop and notes your closed eyes and relaxed features, finding it a nice time to go further south. He places soft kisses down your bellybutton, which let you know where he is going but you assure yourself you are okay as long as it is him.

With a lift of your leg, his eyes graze over the intimate pink outline of your womanhood, but he doesn't go towards your sex right away. His lips kiss softy at your inner thigh, bringing tingles up your spine as you find his slowness and need to appreciate all your body romantic and endearing.

"Your skin is so damn soft... And your smell is driving me crazy" Tom growls again, gliding his tongue up as he eases apart your knees until the tip of his wet muscle laps over the middle of your slit before instantaneously turning it into the most intimate French kiss you could ever imagine.

"O-oh! K-kissing me right there... i-is strange...!" you shyly murmur, gripping both of your hands against the sheets. But soon all you can think of is the enthralling sensation of his tongue as he thoroughly slides between your folds and thrusts back and forth, turning you into a moaning and mewling mess.

One of your hands finds its way into the back of his hair, where you give a few tugs in the throws of your pleasure. In turn both of his hand glide up your hips to keep you in place, while he continued to eat you out like one of the best meals he ever had in ages.

At this point, you are not sure if you are being loud or too quiet anymore, but the answer doesn’t really matter as the passionate sway of his tongue is talented enough to have the oddest sensation warming the pit of your stomach. But you don’t have the time to ask him because you are experiencing your very first orgasm.

"H-hah, fuck... You taste amazing, baby" Tom husks as he pulls back to lick the slick sweet essence of your arousal from his lips. He then wipes off the bottom of his chin before rising above your body to caress one of his hands against your cheek and give you a hasty kiss that lets you taste yourself.

“Oh Tom, I love you so much" you mutter during his flavourful kisses when suddenly, you can clearly feel the tip of his cock poking against your inner thigh.

"I love you too, so much” Tom kisses your lips a last time. “Ready to enjoy the ride, my beautiful wife?”

And as words are about to leave your mouth, Tom moves his face closer to you ear.

“And no need for me to take any blue pill, right?”

He for sure means it to sound like a tease. At a time like that. Well, it wouldn’t be Tom if he didn't remind you of the day you non-naturally made him excited because he was being such a brat. And remembering it right now is even worse, judging by the redness of your cheeks.

“S-Stop with that- aah!”

Yet again he does’t let you speak fully as his hips slide up to press the tip of his cock at your entrance. Griping both hands against your own, he fills you to the brim with his girth in a slow but smooth thrust.

"Ah-mhm... Ooh, Tom" you mumble of slight discomfort but you quickly assure your husband it doesn’t specially hurt too much, just feels sensational and unbearably tight at the same time. 

He kisses your neck and lets you know you could claw or squeeze him as necessary if you feel any pain, which has you smiling and returning a peck to his cheek and another to his neck nuzzling him like a kitten.

"You can move Tommy, I'm okay..." you whisper into his ear, pulling back to meet his eyes where he most certainly doesn’t need to be told twice as hearing you use that particular nickname makes his stomach flip.

So he eases his hips backwards only to slap forward hard enough for you to toss your head and yelp out his name in a moan. 

“Ah! Tommy!”

You feel him rock the most dizzying rhythm into your body that it has you squeezing his shoulders and moaning his name on harmonious repeat. That was the sexiest tune he has heard in his entire life. The sound of your voice and the pleasured look in your eyes feeding his desire all the more, as he thrusts his hips back and forth and then growls like an animal about how tight you are squeezing him.

"S-shit, I can feel how wet you are baby... Practically dripping all over my cock" he rasps while biting warmly at the side of your neck, to give you a mixture of possessive teeth marks and bright purple hickey.

You can’t even muster a reply as he picks up your legs and slides his warm strong hands under your ass to ensure he could pick up his pace to fuck you faster and deeper. Which you doesn’t seem to mind because your hand squeeze his sweaty back, and get off on both the pleasure and the sweet smell coming from his body.

He smirks before sharply claiming your lips, thrashing his hips back and forth and sloshing your juices that lets you know he wasn’t lying before when he said you were wet. That along with the accompanying smell of raunchy sex has your mind become so overly dizzy and hazy that you can barely concentrate.

His hips become sloppy with his desperation and you completely understand that feeling as you cling to him, even dragging a few of your nails down his back not really out of any pain but more so the intense sensation tightening in the pit of your stomach. With a few more hard and deep thrusts that rock both your bodies in perfect unison, Tom presses deeply into your tight pulsating folds allowing you both to achieve release simultaneously.

One hell of scream leaps from your vocal chords as the most vision blurring orgasm of the night sways through your system. Slowly Tom eases your bottom back down to the mattress since he has sort of propped up your lower body for those few aggressive minutes. 

When coming back to his senses, Tom pulls out of your core causing you to hiss from the loss of being so full. He pants almost as heavily as you and after proudly and hungrily admiring both your mixed juices coming out from your core, the man slides down tiredly next to your side.

"How... do you feel, gorgeous?" he huffs, taking a few deep breaths as lazily bringing an arm around your frame to keep you close to his sweaty frame.

"I... f-feel a bit tired... but also good, really good..." you smile to him, cuddling closer and placing a kiss against the middle of his chest before snuggling your cheek against his soft and warm skin. 

He sighs in relief, not voicing how he thought he was being a bit rougher than he meant to be, but instead runs one of his hands down the middle of your back in a soft soothing petting motion.

“Damn, the champagne!” Tom suddenly shouts out of nowhere, startling you a bit.

Tom reluctantly detaches from you, not without a sloppy kiss and stil butt naked, he runs back into the bathroom and comes back with the bottle in one hand and the flutes on the other. You also notice a small towel hanging on his shoulder, probably to clean you both from your previous activity.

You giggle at him, smiling warmly letting the thumping of his heart lull you as you finally share a glass of champagne, still naked and bodies tangled together and into the soft sheets. Both of you hold each other tightly, letting each other’s heat warm your bodies and just keep chatting until your eyelids feel too heavy  to stay open.

Life sure feels great.

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[period-dramallama]

Spanish Princess Episode 5: many many thoughts

Strap yo selves in 

-WHERE WAS THE APOLOGY?? Lina’s just back with Catherine like nothing happened?? 

-Katherine, I get why you’re upset, but you kind of should be unsurprised?? Your dad was unfaithful to his wife, most kings were. Henry VII and Richard III were the exceptions, and even they had illegitimate sons before their marriages. Many kings also had official mistresses that everyone knew about, so by the standards of the time Henry and Bessie are actually being pretty tactful in at least trying to keep their affair out of sight. (Sexy dancing aside). 

-Honestly it would have been so much more moving if KoA was like “I know kings take mistresses...but I thought...I was so sure... he would be different...”

-”they gave me a purse of gold!” It’s expected that you give the monarch lavish presents, lmao Ursula and Stafford would do that even if they hated each other and you

-”everybody loves a masque” the only sensible thing Henry has said so far in this show. Also court probably had way more masques than we see in the show, and it would standard to have a masque every holiday. 

-”she is not a boy” hurry up with your character development and learn to love Mary already i am so TIRED of this miserable BS

-seems a rather depopulated masque? If the Chateau Vert pageant is anything to go by putting on a masque was a court activity, with most of the ladies performing.  

-Bessie Blount in her cute masque costume... sweet mother i cannot weave Aphrodite has overcome me with GAAAAAAAAAAAAY

-”I never enjoyed carousing...my mother scolded me” look i love the Neville sisters with my whole heart but a) Margaret was 3 at most when her mother died, how does she remember her? She’d have clearer memories of her double-uncle and double-aunt, Richard III and Queen Anne b) Isabel Neville in the White Queen was established as very prim and proper, a well-bred girl who cared about enforcing decorum, she refused to ‘carouse’ and she certainly would never bring a 3 year old to a party c) we saw little Margaret as a girl at the end of the White Queen and she didn’t seem at all shy. 

-”she died young, didn’t she” ...yes? most people did?

-”they both did” understatement of the year. Isabel Neville died young because she was ill, George died young (in the universe of The White Queen, at least) BECAUSE HE WAS FORCEFULLY DROWNED IN A VAT OF MALMSEY WINE. THESE TWO THINGS ARE NOT THE SAME! I do at least trust the writers of this show that the understatement was intentional, I’m sure even Emma Frost couldn’t forget a major character getting violently drowned.

-So the court only noticed the plague when one of their own got it so obviously and then died? Yes, plague could move fast, but if there was a whiff of plague the court would flee with the speed of the Looney Tunes road runner. If an acquaintance of an acquaintance of a cook had a cousin who saw someone with the plague, the court would flee to the country. How have these people not died of terminal stupid?! Like Compton was in the same building as the heir to the throne

-To be fair, it makes sense that they’re surprised Compton’s dead. Because the real Compton died of the sweating sickness. In 1528. Also he was involved in Buckingham’s downfall so... you just wrote yourself into a corner.

-Oh wow an actual good reason for More and Pole to be quarantined together i am amaaaaaazed

-”attend the queen” Boleyn, what do you think your daughter’s been doing all season if not attending the queen? Playing tetris?

-Katherine helping Anne into the wagon...I actually like that little moment. Like it does make sense, because the two have no reason to hate each other yet. (And who couldn’t like Anne? She’s such a babby!)

-Thomas More in the Tudor equivalent of casual clothes... much better. Shame about the 1930s lady’s wig.

-”what else should we do?” Maggie, this cannot be the first epidemic you’ve ever lived through. Have you forgotten the sweating sickness of 1485? You’ve probably lived through more epidemics than Oviedo has, you should know the protocol better than him.

-Oviedo continues to be the only man with rights. I wish we could see him crying and missing his wife and babies, but then my lil heart would break so maybe it’s for the best.

-They burn Maggie’s weird blue hood AS THEY SHOULD! IT WAS UGLY AND STUPID! I NEVER HAVE TO LOOK AT IT AGAIN NOW! THANK YOU SO MUCH! yes they also burned her nice dress with the strawberries on it but honestly it’s worth it, bc now i can rest easy, knowing the evil hood has been defeated.

-”you were a plaything” Katherine is so obviously insecure. I’m getting second-hand embarrassment. Like if she really was certain Bessie wasn’t important, she wouldn’t need to say it, would she? Except to rub it in. Which this KOA would absolutely do. 

-literally all Bessie said was good morning?? Like Bessie is doing her best?? The masque was Henry’s idea, not hers, she hasn’t shown off about her affair, she hasn’t demanded money or titles, she hasn’t demanded any status to rival Katherine’s, she doesn’t flirt with or even speak to Henry when Katherine’s around, she acts like they’re strangers, she doesn’t even react when Katherine loses her temper...someone please please stick up for Bessie!

-”the rocking of the cart is unsettling to the stomach” is Anne naive, or is she covering for Bessie? I hope it’s the latter, in which case Anne is the one person looking out for Bessie...the babby is Soft, I repeat the babby is Soft!

-the irony of Mary being cold to Bessie when she’s next in the firing line...

-”it is not the rocking” Thank you Lina, where would we be without your gift for stating the obvious?

-”where did Wolsey get his money”...He’s a churchman...at the top of the church hierarchy...how do you fuckin think he got wealthy. Have y’all not been in the sixteenth century for five minutes? Why do you think Luther is so mad at the church?

-”I know of no other man in her bed most nights” Honestly wow I’m surprised KoA wasn’t like “well :/ a girl like that :/ who knows how many men process in and out of her bed :/” KoA gets half a point for being less bitchy than usual. Also Bessie looked so uncomfortable with Henry groping her stomach in front of Katherine. I pray the next man in her life treats her right and that Fraham don’t prematurely kill her off like they did with Compton.  

-”the future king” if you’re regent on his behalf, then he’s already king! “Civilised companionship” back at it again with the Scots-are-barbarians.

-Laura Carmichael is utterly stunning this episode, with her hair down. The cinematography was beautiful in general this week.

-”freedom to speak and licence to speak are two different things” hey look at that one of Thomas More’s actual beliefs. I am giving all the credit to the historical advisor for that, I don’t believe for one second Fraham knew that beforehand.

-Maggie I love you but no, God does not sanction adultery. For any reason. 

-KOA smirking and gloating about Bessie’s pain...she has never been so punchable. I would understand, if not condone it, if Bessie was manipulative, or greedy, or ambitious, or trying to supplant Katherine. But Bessie’s been betrayed by Henry too, and there’s no concrete evidence she ever gloated about her affair, to anyone let alone Katherine.  

-”You think only of your own fate while London is struck down with plague” Earth to Katherine?? What concern have you shown for the Londoners?? Also calling Bessie selfish...Bessie’s not the one who lashed out at Lina, was jealous at Lina for having twin boys, and who wanted to continue a war for personal reasons. And then Bessie proves KoA wrong 5 hot seconds later by sticking up for Mary. Bit rich of KoA to be all “how dare you leave my daughter unattended” when she herself won’t even hold Mary. 

-”Louis didn’t last a year” What! Is! The Timeline!

-Meg in that cloak reminds me of the Scottish Widow adverts. Georgie is so greedy- she steals every single scene she is in! Even when she’s raging she has more dignity and more presence than KoA ever has.

-”YOU LYING SOD” i burst out laughing it’s really not the little two-timing shit’s day, is it?

-Mary receiving Charlie B in the most Extra way possible. A++

-Why does Wolsey look like he’s about to cry?

-”thoughts are not actions” Lina I love you but... that is NOT what the New Testament says. Jesus said evil thoughts are very very much sins. I’ll give you a pass because maybe you haven’t been Catholic as long as Katherine has? Idk your backstory.

-Aaand now she’s wishing death on Bessie and her unborn baby and Lina isn’t disgusted? At least Katherine is feeling guilty. AS SHE SHOULD.

-”must it always fall to me to be magnanimous?” Katherine, you think only of yourself, for 23 out of every 24 hours. 

-”God wants me to be compassionate to Bessie because of my sins” God wants you to be compassionate because that’s how Christianity is supposed to work. It’s not very selfless of you to decide to be selfless so that you can get what you want. 

-oh wow look at that! She’s getting some self-awareness, i never saw that coming.

-”you betrayed Bessie” 5 points to Katherine of Aragon for standing up for Bessie when Henry screwed her over. Finally, some positive character development.

- MINUS 20000 POINTS FOR BABY STEALING

-WHAT THE FUCK

-is henry so dumb he thinks that baby is Katherine’s? Katherine was so obviously not pregnant

-When a baby’s born his skin needs to touch his mother’s skin so they can bond. They should have at least an hour’s cuddle time. Katherine of Aragon is literally traumatising a baby the very minute he is born. For her own selfish, selfish desires.