#AND IT FLOATED UP TO CLOUD NINE??? I WAS HANGING ON FOR DEAR LIFE

[siphoklansan]

I had a dream that I went kayaking with a bunch of people, one of them being my sister. And FLOYD WAS THERE??? I was kayaking with him and oh boy he was hugging me and would not let go. Then the dream cut off and I got trapped in a mall with my friends in a changing rom but oh well-

[bakubabes-tatakae]

For The Love Of Humanity’s Strongest (Part Nine)

Author’s Note: If anyone wants to be in a taglist for this feel free to let me know! Happy to do it for anyone!

(Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Summary: When all seems lost Y/N knows that she can count on one person to always be there for her brother, Eren Jaeger, and herself. Can humanity’s strongest not only keep Eren in line, but keep his relationship alive as well?

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six: *NSFW Ahead!*, Part Seven, Part Eight

AO3 Link

Word Count: 3.3k

Part Nine:

By the time I reached the common area everyone was already down there. I entered the doorway and stretched, a yawn covering my face. Eren sat at the table with Hange, she was still rambling about Titans. Poor Boy. His face looked like he would pass out at any moment. As I entered the room and stood next to the rest of the group I heard her words. “Now let’s review shall we?” 

We all groaned in the corner and as we turned to make our exit a member of the scouts burst through the door. “Section Commander Hange!” Hange stopped talking and looked to them. “It’s the test subjects, they’ve been killed. 

I had never seen Zoe move so quickly in her life. We all grabbed our cloaks from the hanger by the door and made our way out of the building. Who would do such a thing? They were tied down, they weren’t a threat. 

When we all reached where they were holding the Titans Hange jumped off her horse, running as fast as her legs would carry her. I turned to Levi and the rest of them. “I’m going with Zoe, you guys go see Erwin.”

Levi nodded to me. “Take Eren with you.”

Eren jumped from his horse and followed me as I jumped from mine. As we got closer to where they had been holding the Titans I could already hear the mortified shrieks coming from my best friend. 

Zoe held her head in her hands and fell to her knees. “How could this happen?! Someone tell me this isn’t real!”

I looked behind me at my brother. “Stay here.” I slowly approached Zoe. I hadn’t seen her this distraught in a long time. I put my hand on her shoulder and knelt down next to her. “Zoe, I’m right here.” She turned to me and buried herself in my arms, shrieking into my shoulder. 

I heard the squad come up behind us. Eren looked to Levi. “How did this happen?”

Levi watched on as I tried to comfort the one person I knew could never be comforted right now. “Let it go, it’s a matter for the Military Police now.”

Levi left him, but Erwin walked up behind him. As Erwin spoke to Eren our eyes met. “What is it you think you see?” Eren’s eyes grew wide. “Who do you think the real enemy is here?” Eren didn’t say anything, he just stared at him in confusion. “Ignore me. Loaded question.” Even I was confused by his statement, but before I could say anything to him he walked away with Levi on his heels. 

* * * * * * 

Eren tended to his chores as the rest of the squad watched on. None of them lifted a finger but me to help him. We both held buckets up to the horse’s mouths, hoping they would get some food into them when Gunther spoke up. “Hey Eren, do you know if any of your classmates are planning on joining the scouts?”

The Recruitment Drive was tonight. Anyone from the training classes that graduated was able to choose which branch they wanted to join. Eren looked over at them. “Yea, there’s a few.” He turned to the horse. “Or at least, there were. I’m really not so sure now.”

Levi’s horse approached and as he stopped abruptly we heard a shout come from Gunther. “Fall in!”

We all gathered around him. He looked to the three of us that had been outside. “Make ready, we’re going on Patrol.” Gunther and Eld saluted him and left, obeying their orders. 

Eren came running up behind me, stopping next to me. He saluted him. “Good morning Captain, reporting for duty.”

“Eren, you will stay within ten meters of your sister and me at all times. The only reason you’re out of your cell is because I’m keeping an eye on you. Understood?” 

“Yes sir.” A small nod from Eren was given. 

“Let’s ride then.”

I put my hand on my shoulder. “Grab my horse Eren.” As Eren ran off and left Levi and me by ourselves my worry started to show. “We’re leaving early?” All Levi did was nod. “Why Levi? Erwin was dead set on waiting an entire month before we went out. He wanted us to fully grasp Eren’s ability if we can.”

“And he thinks that we’ve grasped it as well as we can right now. We need to see him out in the field before we can say more. He wants us back in town for two days, then we leave. The new recruits we get in tonight will be tried on this mission.” His face turned serious. “You are to stay within ten meters of me at all times as well. I need you to stay objective out there Y/n, you know what that means.”

I swallowed hard. “I will. I promise.”

Eren approached with the horses and we all climbed on, following Levi at full speed. Tonight was the night of the ceremony. I couldn’t believe that Erwin was going to take a chance at having the mission two days early. I couldn’t believe that he was going to take brand new recruits out there. That wasn’t like him at all. I couldn’t deny that it would be good to spend a couple of nights in my own home again tho. 

* * * * * *

When we were all back in town the squad split up, using the last two days to spend some time with our families since we knew we were all about to leave the walls. Levi and I had talked about keeping Eren with us for the next couple of days. I couldn’t bring myself to leave him in a cell until we left. The familiar surroundings that welcomed us when we unlocked the front door of our apartment were like heaven. The pictures of Levi and I hat hung on the wall, the pictures of my family from another time that sat on the coffee table in the living room as you entered. 

I pointed to the back hall and smiled at Eren. “The guest bedroom is right down that hall and the bathroom is right next to it.” I had forgotten that in all the years Levi and I had been together and living in this apartment Eren had never been there. I pointed behind us. “If you need anything during the night Levi and I’s room is over there.” Our room was on the other side of the kitchen. 

The night quickly approached us, time going by at fifty times the speed since we were about to embark on a mission. It always had right before them. 

I stood in our bathroom that connected to our bedroom, closing the door behind me. Just that small difference had alerted Levi as he came into the room. It wasn’t like me to shut the door behind me. I couldn’t help it this time. My nerves were shot, all that had been running through my mind all day was the possibility of us having to kill Eren. Nausea took over as I jumped for the toilet, wrapping myself around the bowl. 

Levi knocked softly on the door after a second. “Open the door Y/n.” I had forgotten I had locked it so I slowly crawled over and did so, returning to the toilet a second later. Levi walked over to me and knelt down slowly, taking my hair in his hands and holding it back. I could hear a small sigh come from him as he pulled me into his arms, sitting on the cold bathroom floor. “Stop stressing yourself out. You’re just making yourself weaker. You have to stay strong for him.”

I leaned into him. “I can’t help it. What if something happens and you guys have to kill him?” I could feel the knots in my stomach coming back but I ignored them. “What if you have to be the one to do it, Levi?”

“I promise that I’m going to avoid having to at all costs, and you know that the rest of the squad will do that same. You know that we have your back as well as Eren’s. He’s all you have left and we all know that. We don’t want to see anything happen to him.” He brushed my hair back with his hand and kissed the top of my head. “Now brush your teeth and come to bed. We have a long day tomorrow. We have to take Eren to meet more of the members before we leave.”

I nodded and sat up slowly. My stomach stopped doing flips as my anxiety calmed a little. I would never understand how Levi was able to do that for me. A rough day of training was ahead for us. It was now or never to get some sleep.

* * * * * * 

Daybreak approached without warning and as I rolled over to say good morning to Levi my arm fell onto the empty bed. My eyes opened and I hopped out. Levi was always right there when I woke up. I swung the door to the bedroom open. “Levi?!”

Eren was at the kitchen table, a cup of warm tea in his hands. “He told me to wait for you and meet him at the training area when you woke up. He’s already there with Hange. Today’s the day they’re gonna stick me in the well and hope I can figure out how to transform again.”

I felt that same uneasy feeling creeping up on me again. I held my finger up to Eren and turned back for the bedroom. When I returned a moment later Eren looked worried. “I’m fine. Don’t worry little brother. It’s just my nerves.”

Eren relaxed a little, but I could tell he wasn’t going to let me off that easy. He’d be watching me the rest of the day. Guilt riddled his face, he knew my nerves were about him, but I would never admit that to him. 

* * * * * * 

We approached the well on horseback, Hange, and Levi already there waiting for us. We both hopped off the horse and I gave them each a weak smile. The flipping in my stomach hadn’t gone away this time. Not a good sign. Levi walked over to me as Hange directed Eren on what to do when he was in the well. “Are you okay?” He placed a hand on the small of my back. 

“I’m fine.” My voice was weak, even I could hear it.

His eyes watched me even though he didn’t protest to what I had said. Hange looked down the wall at Eren. “Are you ready my dear? When we’re a safe distance from the well I’ll fire off a smoke signal. What happens after that is entirely up to you.”

The day was still breaking, the sun still barely risen. I watched the clouds float by as I listened to them speak. Eren raise his hand and shouted back to her. “Ready when you are Commander.” We hopped onto the horses and Levi grabbed the reins to Eren’s horse, leading it up the hill with us. Levi grabbed his signal flare and handed it to Hange, letting her shoot it off.

We waited in anticipation for it to happen but after a few minutes, Hange grew confused. “I don’t understand it. Maybe he missed the signal?”

“Perhaps,” Levi watched the well with intensity. “Or perhaps we’re naive to think he can just turn it on and off.” Levi advanced and hopped down, approaching the well with me in tow. “Eren, enough, we’re done for today.” He could tell there was something wrong before he even reached him. 

I looked down the well at my brother and my eyes grew wide. He stared back up at us with defeat in his eyes. Blood covered his hands and mouth. I grabbed for the ladder, but Levi pulled me back. Eren’s fearful voice broke my heart. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do it now.”

* * * * * * 

We all sat around a table, other scouts filling in the area as the day passed by. Eren wouldn’t let himself feel alright about what had happened earlier. He was so upset that he hadn’t been able to transform that he was beating himself up. I stood next to Levi a little distance from the table, just far enough away that they wouldn’t hear us. “What do we do Levi?”

“We do nothing.” He took a sip from the tea in his hands. “There’s nothing we can do about it. We just have to figure out what makes it so he can transform.” 

“Levi, the bites on his hands aren’t even healing. Usually, they’d be gone way before now.” 

His tone changed as he approached Eren, now worried about that. “They really don’t show any signs of healing?”

“None sir.” Eren rubbed the bandages on his hands. 

“No offense, but you’re not much good to us in this form.” I glared at Levi, his words cutting me. “If you can’t change then our plans for Wall Maria go up in smoke.” Levi’s tone changed from worry to anger. “Pull it together, and that’s an order.”

I watched his pissed of figure leave the table and sat next to my brother. “Don’t take it to harshly.” Petra approached him and my glance changed to her. I hated it when she even went near him alone. “He doesn’t mean to be so angry, he’s just got a lot riding on this plan.” I stood from the table and hoped that I had eased my brother’s mind some, but I couldn’t let the one that was lovestruck by Levi spend too much time with him.

As I listened to Petra question Levi about the whole operation we were all hit with intense heat and wind. I looked behind me and held my arms up, debris swarming the area. The other three members of Squad Levi were flying through the air and Titan steam now filled where the picnic table had been. My heart started to pound out of my chest as the smoke cleared. Eren was standing on top of a half transformed Titan’s arm. 

Eren desperately pulled at his arm, trying to break it loose from the Titan’s arm. “Damn it, why now?”

I ran for my brother at full speed, the rest of the squad reaching him as well. Each one of the four of them drew their blades, pointing them at Eren. My instincts kicked in and I stood in front of all of them, my own blades drawn, pointing them toward my team. “Leave him alone!”

As the steam cleared out more and Levi realized what had happened he ran to us, planting himself between the team and me. “Calm down!”

Eren was frantic behind us, he had thought that Levi was talking to him. “I’m sorry Captain I…” Then he saw the team standing with nothing but malice in their eyes as they watched him. 

Levi was trying hard to calm them down. “The situation is complicated. Now calm down.” He glanced back at me. “You too.”

I couldn’t calm myself. These people were threatening to hurt the only family I had left. “They need to put down their blades first!” The desperation in my voice was becoming all too familiar. “I won’t let them hurt him.”

I could hear Hange’s screaming coming from the distance. Cheer in her voice, but I couldn’t worry about that now. I had to protect Eren.

Eld was screaming now. The whole team about to erupt. “Eren, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Sir, please.” The pleading in Eren’s voice was about to send me into a rage as I listened to my team go after him. 

“Nobody gave you permission to transform! Did they?”

Levi’s calls were still falling on deaf ears. “I said calm down!”

Oluo was next. “Answer the question Eren. What got into you?”

I pointed my sword directly at Oluo. “Try to say he did it on purpose again! I dare you!”

Eld walked toward him, each step making my heart pound. “Leave it, explanations can come later.” He pointed his sword. “First things first, you need to persuade us that you’re not hostile like your life depends on it.” His next words made my eyesight turn red. “Prove it or we kill you!”

I moved my sword from Oluo and swiftly moved to Gunther. My blade inches from his throat. “Try it, Gunther. One wrong move and yours is over.”

Oluo spoke now that my blade wasn’t on him. “So much as move an arm and I’ll take your head off. This is the first and only warning you’ll receive. I could end you in a heartbeat, do you understand me, boy?”

Levi screamed again. “Oluo, how many times do I have to say it…” 

Petra interrupted him. “Captain, I need you to step away. You’re too close.” 

Hearing Petra’s words in my haze of anger made me turn to her, my sword still on Gunther. Levi noticed my eyes and spoke to her himself, afraid of what I might say. “Right now I believe you’re the ones that need to step away. DO IT!”

“Why on earth?”

“Gut feeling.” With each passing second Levi was growing angrier and angrier.

Eld’s face was sweating. “Eren better say something.”

My head was spinning as Oluo started in again. “Don’t try anything!”

“Prove you’re not hostile.”

“I’ll do it, I swear to god.”

Eren finally was overcome with anger. “Be quiet! All of you just be quiet!”

Levi approached me slowly, his hand resting on my arm. My eyes still saw nothing but red as he slowly lowered my sword from Gunther’s throat. My breath was shaky as I watched him. “They won’t hurt him. I’m right here.” 

I could barely catch my breath as Hange came from behind us, screaming my brother’s name. “Eren!” As she reached him she looked rabid. “I want to touch the arm, I wanna touch it.” The woman started to drool. “Pretty please with sugar on top. Let me touch this glorious thing.”

Eren objected. “I don’t think that’s such a good…” Hange approached it anyway. “Wait no!” 

Her hand touched the arm and she instantly tore it away. She turned around and slid onto her knees on the ground. “Son of a bitch! That mother is hot with no skin. This is the best day in the history of science.”

One of her squad members ran up behind her. “You’re a maniac.”

She turned back to Eren. “Are you not burning up? What’s it like? How’s it connected to your hand? You have to show me. I really really really wanna see!”

Eren pulled at his hand and Oluo spoke to him again. “Are you ignoring me? Don’t do anything stupid.”

As Eren’s hand let go I jumped for him, grabbing him right before he hit the ground, breaking his fall some. He leaned against me as I knelt down with him. Hange was screaming on the other side as Titan steam started to take away the Titan arm before us. “Oh no! What are you doing? Not so soon! I wanted to put it under the knife.”

Levi walked up beside us. Eren looked over at him, having a hard time catching his own breath. “Sorry captain.”

“So you feeling okay or what?”

He fought for his breath. “Not… exactly… No.” I wrapped my arms around him and put a hand on his head, brushing hair back. My little brother shouldn’t have to go through this. 

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[lokimostly]

Polaris (Ch.10/?)

Loki x Reader, Pirate!AU Word Count: 3,684 Warnings: injury, swearing Summary: Your life has always been set in stone. Born to a wealthy merchant family in the Caribbean, you’ve spent your years as an heiress in the daytime, escaping at night to wander the streets of St. Thomas. Now, on the eve before your life settles into mundanity for good, you discover someone who could change everything– if you choose to trust him, that is.

A/N: We’re in the double-digits now, babes!

Chapter One ~ Chapter Two ~ Chapter Three ~ Chapter Four ~ Chapter Five ~ Chapter Six ~ Chapter Seven ~ Chapter Eight ~ Chapter Nine ~ Chapter Eleven ~ Chapter Twelve ~ Chapter Thirteen ~ Chapter Fourteen

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until Loki was pulling you out of bed.

“Get up! Up, quickly!”

You shrieked when you slid off the bed and landed ankle-deep in water. The entire cabin was flooded: the chairs were floating, and even the heavier furniture was beginning to shift. You clung to Loki’s arm with one hand and grabbed the fabric of your chemise with the other, lagging behind him as he pulled you out into the hallway.

The ship was pitching back and forth more wildly than ever. As soon as you stepped out you began to slide down the hallway. Loki snatched you up and pulled you against his chest, holding onto a beam until the floor leveled again. The steady stream of rainwater cascading down the stairs was as loud as a waterfall, pouring more water into the hold with every wave that hit the deck.

“Go!” He instructed, giving you a push in the direction of the galley. “Stay out of the way!”

“Wait!” You shouted desperately. You watched as he sprinted to the stairs, gripping the banister to haul himself upwards, and then he was gone. You grabbed one of the ropes as the boat rocked again, pulling you backwards.

The rope creaked in your hands before the strings unwound and it snapped. The barrels came loose, slamming against the wet floor and tumbling towards you. A panicked shout left your lips as you scrambled out of the way. You caught hold of the banister and swung yourself onto the stairs just in time, gasping for breath as they rolled past, clinging to the banister for dear life.

You couldn’t stay down here to get crushed by cargo. You had to find Loki.

The ship leveled out, and you took your chance, using the banister to pull yourself up the stairs against the current of water cascading down. Huge raindrops hit your face as you emerged from the hold. You ascended the last few steps and threw yourself onto the deck as the ship pitched again, pushing yourself to your feet and looking around frantically for Loki.

There was no separation between the sky and the sea. It was all one sphere of dark grey, illuminated by flashes of lightning that tore the clouds in two and sent more water cascading down. Towering waves rose high and crashed against the hull with enough force to knock your off feet. Water ran across the deck at every turn, flowing out into the sea before another wave replaced it.

Your chemise was thoroughly drenched and clinging to your skin as you held onto the railing, pushing your wet hair from your eyes and looking across the deck. There were sailors everywhere. Everyone moved with the same cadence: hanging on for dear life when the ship pitched, and sprinting to their destination during the few precious seconds when the deck evened out again.

You spotted Volstagg at the helm, struggling to hold the wheel in place and keep it steered in the right direction. Thomas, helping another sailor tie a knot like his life depended on it. Everyone moved around you like the gears of a clock, desperate to keep time without falling behind.

Your heart was in your throat when you finally found Loki. He was hanging onto the rigging like a cat, somehow refusing to fall despite being pitched from side to side. With a mooring line looped over one arm, he watched his men work from a bird’s eye view. His black hair spun and tangled in the wind with life of its own.

You blinked away the drops that clung to your eyelashes and watched with baited breath as he waited for the ship to tilt, and at the right moment, he leapt– catching hold of a free rope and sliding down. As soon as he landed, sailors ran to help him, pulling on the rope until they could tie it to the cleat. Loki sprinted to hand the mooring line off to Thomas, before turning against the tilt of the ship and finding a rail to cling to.

A giant, dark wave crested and slammed against the starboard side. The ship groaned as water spilled over the deck. You braced yourself, looping your arm around the banister of the stairs– but the spray was like a thousand slippery hands that tugged on you from every direction, grabbing you by the ankles and clinging to your clothes.

Your fingers lost their grip on the slick wood and you shrieked as your legs were swept out from under you, carrying you across the deck and towards the railing.

Thomas shouted your name and lunged for you. His hand reached for your yours, but fell short. Your body hit the solid railing of the deck with enough force to make it splinter and fall away.

You lunged for the unbroken rail, gasping for breath and holding tightly to the creaking wood with every ounce of strength. There was nothing but open ocean behind you. The wind whipped at your hair and acted as an accomplice to the waves, pulling and pushing at you to try and send you over the edge.

A flash of lightning illuminated the ship’s outline. You saw Loki sprinting down the deck towards you with a rope in hand, struggling to keep his balance as it leveled out.

You reached out your hand – and then retracted it as the deck slanted, clinging to the railing for dear life. His mouth shaped words that you couldn’t hear as he slid towards you, looping the rope around his chest in a swift slip knot and peeling you away from the edge.

You clung to his shoulders and buried your face in his neck, choking back a panicked sob. “It’s alright,” he said, though you could barely hear it over the rolling thunder. Loki took the rope in both hands, prepared to pull you both up as the ship came dangerously close to a vertical tilt.

He was climbing hand over hand, step by step, when a bolt of lightning lit the foremost mast in a bolt of white and split it in two. The thunder was instantaneous, booming so loud that for a moment you heard nothing at all. Warm rain blurred your vision. You watched in muted horror as the mast creaked, leaned, and fell into splintered pieces.

“Look out!” You screamed.

Loki was quick on the draw, putting you out of harm’s way by shielding you with his body. Your chest heaved with every panicked breath as he kept one hand on the rope and the other around your waist, dodging the splinters of the mast as they fell past you and into the sea without a splash.

But he couldn’t dodge them all. There was a swift, audible SNAP when one large piece spliced the rope holding you up in two. The sudden loss of leverage made Loki stumble and lose his grip, trying to find something to hold as the two of you slid towards the broken railing. He grasped desperately, catching hold of the jagged railing.

It broke in his hand.

Your breath left your chest as the waves swept up to meet you, and you fell into the sea.

Hitting the water felt like falling from your bedroom window and slamming against cobblestone. The initial pain gave way to an ever-present sting. You opened your eyes and regretted it immediately: it was dark all around you, and the saltwater burned. Which way was up? You flailed wildly as every passing wave hit your body and spun you like a top, further confusing any lingering sense of direction.

You tried to breathe and bitter water filled your mouth. Everything burned. Your limbs stuck out and tried to push you to the surface, but you couldn’t swim. You didn’t know how.

Something tugged at your clothes and a bubbly shriek escaped your mouth. You kicked wildly in the direction of its grasp. Fate could choose either to drown you or let a sea creature eat you, but certainly not both.

You landed a kick, and immediately sucked in more water with a shocked gasp as the human hands that had been trying to grab you retracted.

Loki.

You stopped flailing. Your lungs were on fire as you fought the urge to cough and inhale more water. Every second that ticked by meant you were sinking deeper, and further out of his reach. Considering you had probably just thoroughly bruised his ribs, you would understand if he decided to let you drown.

But his hands found you again. You reached out in the dark and clung to him as you surged upwards and broke through the surface.

Air had never tasted sweeter. You inhaled greedily, and then coughed as your body rejected the sea water you’d swallowed. Loki was coughing himself, struggling to keep you both afloat as he alone trod water. The ship was nowhere in sight.

“Hold your breath,” he said, and the two of you descended again as a cresting wave passed over you.

When you resurfaced, you took a gasp of air and immediately began to apologize. “Loki, I’m sorry, I–”

“Not now,” he commanded hoarsely, swiveling as he tried to look around in the water. The waves carried you up to their peak, where for a moment the entirety of the ocean was in sight – and then down again, but still the ship was nowhere to be seen. You doubted that they would have been able to rescue you.

The realization of impending death that awaited you struck your heart like a hollow bell. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, and not for lack of air: you didn’t know how to swim. Loki certainly couldn’t support you both for long. Saving you was only temporary; despite his efforts, you would drown all the same.

Loki snapped you out of your panicked train of thought by shrugging your hand off his shoulder. “Not so hard,” He reprimanded. “I won’t drop you.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated weakly, readjusting your grip so that your fingernails didn’t dig into his skin.

Loki’s green eyes were still trailing over the waves, like he was looking for something. “Can you swim?” He asked. His voice was gravelly and hoarse.

You shook your head, and his next exhale was a frustrated sigh. “Bloody aristocrat,” he muttered, which seemed a little hypocritical, but you held your tongue. You weren’t about to exchange witty quips with your life raft. There was a beat of silence, interrupted only by the constant stream of fat raindrops and occasional roll of thunder. The waves had lessened somewhat – you didn’t need to duck underneath them anymore.

“Are we going to die?” You ventured cautiously, and you immediately felt him tense beneath your touch.

“For fuck’s sake. If you or I don’t spot something to hang onto, we just might,” Loki snapped. His muscular arms were beginning to shake with exhaustion.

Could’ve told me sooner, you thought, pushing your hair back with one hand before turning your head to look around. Everything was gray.

Well, not everything.

“Loki,” you said.

“I’m trying–”

“No, look.” You pointed over his shoulder. He turned to follow your gaze, kicking his legs to gain more height as a wave carried you to its crest. In the midst of the waves and the rain, there was a dark outline of something amidst the waves. It bobbed in and out of view as you rose and fell with the current.

Loki made a noise in his chest. You turned to look at him, frowning. “What is it? Driftwood?”

He shook his head. Dark curls of hair fell into his face. “No,” he murmured, tightening his jaw. “It’s not moving.”

The rain made never-ending ripples on the waves like wind against satin curtains. Thunder rolled through the clouds. You pushed your hair from your eyes and blinked away the blurriness, shuddering when you passed through a cold spot in the water. Loki treaded water silently, breathing slow and even as he continued to look around. His arm was wrapped tightly around you. His fingers gripped and released repeatedly around the fabric of your chemise, like some kind of soothing motion. You stared silently at his face as he looked around. His dark eyelashes seemed longer when they were wet.

Finally, he spoke. “Driftwood or island, it’s our only change. We have to try.” He looked at you and took a deep breath, tightening his jaw. “Do you trust me?”

You snapped out of your trance with a frown and a shaky inhale, raising your chin when a wave went under you. “Yes.”

He smiled thinly, exhausted and resolute. “Smart girl.”

~

By the time you dragged yourself up onto the shore, the sky was darkening behind the clouds. Loki’s arm was still locked around your waist as he leaned on one elbow and dropped his forehead onto the sand. Both of you were shivering violently, gasping for breath and clinging to the earth like an anchor.

How he had kept the two of you afloat was, to you, a mystery. Personal space became a last thought– you had clung to him for hours, half-floating on your back and leaning against him as he had navigated to the shallows with painful slowness. Every breath took a lifetime. There were a few times when a wave crested, coming down on you and encasing you in cold terror – but he never left, pulling you back up again and keeping your head above water.

The dark spot in the sea had turned out to be a sand bank, completely barren of any life – not that you were picky. Loki couldn’t have kept both of you afloat for much longer.

The worst of the storm passed over you, leaving nothing but the occasional smattering of warm rain in its wake. Minutes passed uncounted as you laid in the sand. The waves tugged at you when they ran up on the shore, a gently persistent request to return to the sea. You forced your stiff limbs to pull you away from the water’s reach; you wanted nothing to do with the ocean, or any water at all. Dying on a desert island wasn’t in line with your original plan to escape an arranged marriage, but you supposed that it would be an acceptable substitute.

You were curled on the shore and shivering when you felt the familiar grip of Loki’s hands around your arm. “Get up.”

“I can’t,” you protested numbly. It wasn’t true, but you didn’t want to move. Your entire body felt like lead.

“There’s a stretch of sand bars to our left. We can follow them until we reach one with some kind of cover. You’ll catch your death here.”

You sat up and wiped the sand from the side of your face, looking out in that direction. You could barely make out the sandbanks in the dark. “I still can’t swim,” you pointed out. Your voice cracked with exhaustion.

Loki looped his arms under yours and pulled you up. “It’s shallow enough to walk.” His hand slid down and took yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Come on.”

He didn’t let go of your hand when the two of you started down the beach. In the dim corners of your exhausted mind you wondered whether he was merely trying to comfort you, or if he was holding onto your hand for his own sake. Either way, you weren’t going to be the first to let go.

The water was cold when it hit your toes again. You flinched, drawing a quick breath. Loki’s hand tightened around yours. “It won’t get much higher,” he reassured you, his tone apologetic. “I would carry you if I could.”

“It’s alright,” you said, swallowing the rise of anxiety and forcing yourself to focus on the steady heartbeat through Loki’s fingers. You tried not to think about the fact that you could drown in shallow water just as easily as you could in the middle of the sea.

Loki kept glancing at you as you waded through the water. Your face was a painted expression of worry, and the waves were only knee-deep. He tried to think of something to say, to pull your mind away from the ocean. He thumbed over the back of your hand and noticed the absence of metal on your finger. Yes, he remembered– the ring, still inside the drawer compartment of his dresser aboard the ship. But that still didn’t explain why you had taken it off.

Loki inhaled deeply and finally mustered the nonchalant bravado to ask. “What happened to your ring?”

You blinked as his voice pulled you out of your morbid thoughts. Your face flushed in the dark. “I…” You trailed off, unable to think of a lie. It would be better to tell the truth anyway, wouldn’t it? “I took it off.”

No reaction. “Why?”

Your brow furrowed. “I don’t want to get married.”

Loki’s eyebrows raised as his heart fell. Why on earth did his heart fall? It elicited a rise of indignation at his own feelings. He stewed silently, his brow quirked in a frown that you couldn’t see. It was all the better for you to take charge of your own destiny. Why should it matter to him, whether you wanted to get married or not?

His nonverbal response didn’t escape your notice. “Not ever, just... not to Thor,” you amended, and tried to crack a joke. “I’m not taking a lifelong vow of chastity.”

Loki made a sound in his chest that could have been a laugh. “I don’t believe ‘unmarried’ and ‘chaste’ are the same thing, little one.”  

Your face heated and you opened your mouth to protest, but you were too tired to think of an intelligent response. All you could think about was how Loki’s hand felt in yours– and the ways you imagined it felt elsewhere. So you closed your lips.

The two of you walked in silence. It was almost completely dark all around you; the clouds were so thick that no patch of sky shone through -- No north star to guide your way.

You lost track of the number of sandbars that you crossed– each one with a little more vegetation, it seemed– until you waded through the water one last time and felt soft, thick grass under your bare feet. The shadowy silhouettes of trees stood tall against the black of the ocean, and you could hear the giant palms whispering in the wind as they rubbed against one another.

Loki winced suddenly and leaned to one side. You stopped. “What is it?”

“Cut my foot,” He muttered, continuing to walk with a cautious limp. “Watch out for rocks.”

You weren’t sure how well you could adhere to this advice, considering you couldn’t see much. But Loki must have been able to, because he led you with obvious intention, walking carefully beneath the trees and holding tightly to your hand.

It began to rain.

Loki slowed his pace as he approached a cluster of rock and trees before ducking underneath what must have been an overhang. He took you with him, putting one hand gently atop your head to avoid you hitting it. You both took a few more steps before sitting down as the gentle drizzle turned into heavy downpour.

The ground beneath you was sandy and cool. You soaked in the small joy of finally being able to dry off and rest your feet, trying not to let your thoughts wax morbid. Your stomach rumbled. You pressed your lips together, anxious at the prospect of finding food.

You were beginning to regret taking charge of your life. So far, it was going horribly. A swell of emotions rose in your chest – panic, sorrow, guilt. You tried to swallow them down, but it only made your throat tighten. You choked back a strangled sob and dropped your head onto your knees, shoulders shaking with the effort of holding it all down.

Loki’s touch ghosted over your shoulder in the dark. The comforting motion broke you completely. You began to cry, outright and uncontrollably against the sound of the rain outside. Your tears were hot and salty on your cheeks, dripping off your chin and soaking the sleeves of your chemise when you tried to wipe them away in vain.

“I– I’m so sorry, this is a-a-ll my fault–”

Loki’s arms were around you in an instant. He pulled you against him, tucking your head under his chin and holding you steady as the sobs wracked your body and made you gasp for breath. He said nothing– only ran his hands through your tangled mess of hair, rubbed comforting circles, stroked his hand up and down your spine while his sea-green eyes looked out at the rain.

Why isn’t he angry? you thought – still sobbing – and painfully aware of your tears staining his shirt. I caused this. Going on deck when he told me not to, getting us both pitched overboard.

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccuped again, like saying it a second time would somehow make you feel better. It didn’t.

You felt Loki sigh and pull you closer. You were cradled in his lap at this point, but you didn’t care. There was no one here to affront your dignity – just you, and him, and a storm on a desert island. The scent of leather and rose was faint on his clothes, but you held onto the familiarity of it with everything you had, pressing your head against his chest as your tears subsided. You gathered fists of his shirt fabric and twisted it between your fingers, feeling petulant and childlike in your misery.

You took a shaky breath and let it out just as unevenly. “Loki,” You croaked.

He pausing in stroking your arm. “Yes?” His voice was cracked and gravelly from exhaustion.

Your next statement was quiet and guilt-ridden. “I know I’m selfish in saying it, but–” your voice caught with emotion. “I – I’m glad you’re here.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the rain against the ground and the palm leaves, pitter-pattering like your heartbeat in a steady thrum. Maybe he hadn’t heard you – or perhaps he had, and was contemplating leaving you out in the rain.

Then Loki’s hand resumed its movement in stroking your hair, and he sighed, pulling you closer. He let his head fall against yours, and when he spoke you felt the soft warmth of his breath against your skin. “I would never deny the pleasure of your company.”

It almost made you smile.

- - -

A/N: thanks for reading! <3

Tag List (CLOSED):

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[bapydemonprincess]

Ulva’s second experience with love

I say second here because in truth, at a bit of a young, innocent age, Ulva found herself chasing after a little girl she’d met, finding herself taken with the other girl over any other kids her age she’d met so far! 

This wasn’t meant to be, though, for Ulva had no clue how to approach this other than giving this girl as much affection as she could, and try to win her approval! 

The girl only ended up freaking out and running away, and so that was a brief glimpse of Ulva’s very first love. 

And how the little wolf puppy found she had a lot to learn about herself.

As for Ulva’s second experience with love, it happened something like this...

Ulva and this girl were older, perhaps around 16 or so, and so Ulva wished to be a normal teen girl, and go to the local school. And there was a lot of debate and such about it because both parents WERE very nervous on this subject but they did want so much for their baby girl to be happy and enjoy life, so why not?

So she gets into school, and absolutely adores it, even if sometimes the things teachers teach her aren't the same as the things Mama and Papa taught her, but she still LOVES getting out and interacting!!

Soon she discovers the local "groups" or as we called it in OUR times, the local clique.

And really finds herself admiring this one girl who seems POWERFUL and LEADERLY and a bunch of other girls follow her everywhere, listen to her every word!

And once again Ulva is SMITTEN.

So she tries to get the girls attention, tries to casually go up and talk, tries to IGNORE everyone looking at her like she's insane.

She keeps doing this over and over, hoping this powerful pretty girl will talk to her!

Finally, this girl does. One time when school is over, as everyone is heading home, she stops Ulva, and she's all alone, and she apologizes for always ignoring her, telling her she just didn't want her friends to think she was weird for talking to Ulva. But now that everyone's gone, it's okay!! And she tells Ulva she likes her boldness, likes her answers in classes, even if they're not always correct, and asks if she wants to study with her. To hang out and get their homework done TOGETHER!

Ulva is SUPER EXCITED!!! And DRAGS THE GIRL PRACTICALLY to her place!!! Even if they didn't decide who's place to go to!

Ulva is TOO EXCITED, completely unaware of her Mama's eyes staying LOCKED on this girl despite her kind words of "Have fun studying, you two."

And is surprised and delighted when the girl ends up needing HER help with work more than SHE needed HERS. She compliments Ulva, telling her she's a lot smarter than people give her credit for, and Ulva is just... in heaven...

This studying together seems to go over so well, the first few times, and Ulva remains so happy to help, so happy to be appreciated and noticed!! Then one time the girl asks Ulva if maybe.. she could do some of her work for her? She says she'll be very very busy with things like piano lessons and such, and Ulva, feeling like she has a MISSION, totally agrees to help! The girl even gives her a quick little cheek kiss! Ulva practically floats home...

Then, at home, when being checked on, Mama asks "Why in the world do you have so much work to do, little one?" and Ulva straight up tells her "My best friend was really really busy, so she asked me to do hers for her!" And Ulva misses the look on Mama's face, as she turns slightly away, and doesn't speak a moment.....

But in an instant Sebastian is smiling again to her daughter "That's very kind of you, sweet pup... Just please do not wear yourself down working too hard, alright?" And Ulva swears she'll be alright! It's not too bad to do a little more work!

So she brings all the other girl's work to her the next day, telling her she did her best! Hoping she approves!! The girl seems satisfied and pats Ulva's head and kisses her cheek. They go in to school and Ulva is just on cloud nine... she is SO HAPPY!

Later the girl invites her to even eat at LUNCH with her and her friends, and she sits beside her and just beams as the girl goes on to say Ulva did really good with her work! And the others are now giving her attention too! So they ask her if she can help with THEIR work too, and of course, Ulva looks at the girl she has this deep crush on, and just knows she's GOTTA do it. She's gotta help her new friends and new dear best friend!! They all are really relieved and happy for her help, and yet it's strange they say they're all too busy to come over and study together! Oh well!

For some reason when Mama asks AGAIN about all the extra work and Ulva tells her she has new friends of her best friend to help as well... Mama does not seem to approve... at ALL.

"Why aren't they doing their own work, dear?" She simply asks. "Shouldn't they be doing it, or if they need help, come here with you to learn how to do it?" And Ulva shrugs and says "Well they say they're all really too busy to work on school work, so I think they can't HELP that.." And for some reason Mama just shakes her head, and walks away..

That night Ulva passes out from exhaustion for once, and when Mama and Papa come to see this, their poor girl collapsed around a pile of papers and books, they both SIMMER with their rage and know something has to be done as they put their little girl to bed.

The next morning Ulva sorta.. PANICS a little that she fell asleep while in the middle of doing the work, and tries to make up for it as quick as she can before its time for school!! And once at school, she's very ragged.. but delivers the work to her new friends, not DARING to tell them she may have slipped up a bit because she passed out.

They all compliment her and smile and the girl she adores exclaims to them all that she KNEW Ulva would come through! She gives Ulva a good hair ruffling, and they all go off to class.

Despite being still super tired, this praised sort of helps Ulva get through the day, though her teachers do sass her a bit for spacing off.

And when the group meet up with her at lunch again, one of them sorta.. doesn't seem happy. She starts complaining to Uva that the teacher noticed the shoddy work, and asks why Ulva was messy with HER work. And Ulva is really... confused! She gets so nervous and asks forgiveness, she explains that she just passed out but she tried her best the next morning! And yet no matter what the girl remains huffy, and the others seem a bit upset too. The only one who doesn't seem that upset is the girl she truly cares the MOST about, who tries to simmer the others down, trying to tell them to be nice! She even hugs Ulva, seeming to try and comfort, and it definitely works!

SO of course after school, they go to Ulva again, loading her up with their work and wishing her luck! Ulva promises to definitely not slack off THIS time!

However.... coming home, she finds Mama and Papa packing for some reason! And is instantly distracted on finding out what this is about. Papa explains that it's time to go visit Auntie Sullivan! It's been a while after all! And instantly... NOTHING ELSE MATTERS BECAUSE YESSS GOING TO SEE AUNTIE!!!

At one point while in the happy rush to pack, Ulva DOES remember all the work she's been loaded with... Hmmm.. Well, she'll take it with her and find some time eventually to do it!

This, however, never really happens, because there's LOTS to do at Auntie's

Getting to see her newest inventions, going out on the town to go shopping and to museums and such... and EVEN a dinner with the royal family Auntie still helps as well!

It's so busy busy busy!

Ulva completely forgets about school work!

Only on the very last day, packing up to go home again, does Ulva rediscover all the work she did not do.... and.. realizing this kind of.. makes everything suddenly snap in her mind. What is she going to DO?! What is she going to SAY?? She has NO TIME to do all this, hell the work was probably due DAYS AGO while she was here having fun!!

And Auntie Sullivan comes to check on her.. and finds the little one curled up crying over all this work.. all these school papers.

And Auntie Sullivan, even before knowing the story, has an inkling.. and comes in to comfort the poor girl. To ask why she has al this unfinished work?

And Ulva is a mess as she explains, how these new friends of hers, who count on her, who say they really are PROUD of her, are wanting her to do all this WORK just for them. They trust her with doing this for them!

There's a lot of sudden anger in Auntie Sullivan's older gaze.. while she still strokes Ulva's messy hair and listens.

And Auntie Sullivan tells the girl "If they really care about you, they would not put you through that. That is NOT what someone who loves and cares for you does! It is unfair to give you all that work, and get nothing in return but mere words of praise and then MORE work."

Ulva of course is a bit confused now, thinking about how this all started with her just wanting this one girl to care about her, to like her back, and then it turned into this! "So if she and the others REALLY care they shouldn't be mad at me even if I DID mess up?" She asks Auntie Sullivan. 

"You are ONLY one girl, Ulva. You are as human as they are, and have your own work as well."

She tells her to go to them and explain what happened, and to see how they react, and not to be surprised if they do not accept an apology or an excuse no matter how true it is. Ulva is really downtrodden, and afraid, SO afraid of what might happen as she goes home with Mama and Papa.

Of course Mama and Papa both offer to be with her, to go to school with her to meet these girls, but uh... Ulva passes on that, even if she's still scared. She fears what'll happen if Mama and Papa are there even MORE!

So Ulva goes to school, bringing aaall that unfinished work, and also having to talk to her teachers to explain her absences too. BUT that is easy, for the teachers are understanding adults about going off to see family.

But the girls at lunch when they're all together.. seem REALLY already angry, and glaring at Ulva even before she explains... She tries to anyway. She knows some of them were there to hear her explain to her teachers! But... they snap! Telling her they were all getting bad grades for missing work! They TRUSTED her with doing that work! And... and... even the girl Ulva wished to be close to.. has gotten cold, flipping her hair and turning away. Going on about how they'll have to find someone else then, who doesn't go off suddenly on a vacation with no explanation... Not even looking at Ulva as she says this...

Ulva breaks down crying even if she KNEW something like this would happen, she slightly lets her temper flare too. She shouts out to the girl about how they walked home together! How she thought they'd bonded! How she thought maybe.. maybe she LIKED her as much as Ulva liked her!!!

And the girl looks at her like she’s speaking another language, and scoffs. "Why would I ever go walking home with such a wild girl like you?" Completely denying the whole experience.

And BOOM Ulva lets her anger go, grabbing the table and FLIPPING it on them, then running away as fast as she can as she cries and cries.

She just runs home and runs to her room, still so aggrieved she can't help tearing up whatever she can get her hands on in her bedroom!

And finally Mama and Papa rush in, and Mama uses that demon essence to wrap her up, then pull her close so they can both just hold her in the wreck of her room while she cries.

And that is Ulva’s second experience with love.

[svtntntn]

signed, sealed, delivered!

hogwarts student!seungkwan

(hufflepuff!seungkwan x beauxbatons student!you)

seungkwan is one of the kindest and loudest boys in the entire castle

he's in the frog choir with seokmin and jeonghan

constantly hangs out with ravenclaw student hansol in the great hall or around the frog choir room

love love loves his transfiguration class

accidentally turned wonwoo into a cat and he has a scratch on his forearm from him:’(

hates his herbology class bc he accidentally overfed his plant oranges and it bit him for nearly killing him:;(((

pls protect this sweet sweet boy

he’s also one of the student commentator for all the quidditch matches and always proudly dresses in his house colors

plays theme music for each team even when it's not allowed

if the madam hooch cuts off the music, he will sing the theme music for each team himself

he comes from a muggle family and every month he handwrites his mother and father and sisters letters:’)

bc he does get homesick a lot being all the way at hogwarts

but they’re not the only ppl he writes to

you're a student from the beauxbatons academy of magic in france and you and seungkwan exchange handwritten letters every couple weeks or so

per your letters, you also made guidelines to not send each other photos of each other or any voice letters to not ruin the element of surprise and old fashion-ness of it all

you were connected through a pen pal system for the international relations class between the two schools and after the assignment you kept in contact bc you love talking to one another

seungkwan writes just like he talks, meaning that his letters are always pages long leaving no stone unturned as he talks about his friends, his family, and his life at hogwarts

you love how he embellishes every story he writes with so much detail and how much he writes about his friends and family, especially about his mother

you can tell he has a very big heart and he isn't afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve

seungkwan writes how he was granted a solo to sing at the winter break celebration and how it’s one of his favorite songs ever and you can tell through his words (and the spilled ink on the page) how excited he is

so you decide to break the rules a little

"I know we promised not to send voice letters, but I really want to hear you sing!" you write, "It’s okay if you don’t want to, no pressure. I’d just love to hear you sing someday:)"

seungkwan swears he didn’t scream in the owlery, but the clumps of feathers on his robes say otherwise

"she wants me to sing for her! what do I do? should I send her a voice letter? what if it gets lost, what if she hates it, what if—"

"what if she likes your voice? have you thought about that?" hansol interrupts as he pulls his headphone out of his ears

seokmin agrees with a nod, "and your letter won't get lost in the mail, we have wizard mail! it's fast and dependable and I'm sure (y/n) will love your voice"

and during the month, seungkwan is set on recording something for you

he starts recording in his room or in the frog choir room when he’s alone and when he does, he stops half-way bc he thinks his pitch is off or the mic is too close to his mouth

or sometimes he stops bc he’s not even sure you’re gonna like his singing

"c’mon seungkwan! I bet she’s dreaming right now of you serenading her with this song!" hansol is hyping him up and even conjures a poster to boost his confidence

"please, finish this recording so I can go. I’ve played just the intro 50 times for you already" jihoon mutters from the piano bench, already bunching his robes into a ball so he can lay his head on them

"why is jihoon playing the piano for you?"

seungkwan grins, "it adds to the overall effect, the song sounds 10 times better with live piano, duh"

jihoon groans again, "can I leave now?"

"nO… please"

when seungkwan finally finishes recording something he’s proud of, he prepares to mail out both his paper letter and his voice letter to you, his hands shaky before he depositing them in the mailbox

while he waits for your next letter to arrive, this bub is a nervous wreck inside, but he plays it cool on the outside

he prefers taking the longest route back to the dormitories, meaning that he walks all the way to the owlery after muggle studies to see if there's any new letters before going all the way back down to the hufflepuff common room

about two weeks later, seungkwan gets a letter from you!! and bc he's so nervous to open it and see what you have to say, he makes his house prefect joshua read it

bc everything joshua says is good and positive and even if you hurt his feelings, it won't sound bad coming from joshua's voice

"'dear seungkwan…'" joshua scans the page quietly before reading aloud to find the section talking about seungkwan's singing, as to keep things private between you two

"'why didn't you tell me you were such a good singer! you're not pranking me or anything, right? that is your own voice? I can't believe you! I'm so upset but in a very good way because you sing so well, and I almost teared up and—'" joshua pauses, "and then she writes a bunch of random letters but crosses them out and draws a happy but angry face?"

seungkwan takes back your letter and genuinely smiles, his eyes wandering over the splattered ink and scratches on the parchment, "thanks joshua!"

he leaves joshua's side floating on cloud nine million:)

he's literally floating

towards the end of the year and in honor of all the peace and harmony in the wizarding world, hogwarts decides to open its doors to its neighboring schools for a grand celebration

meaning that the other wizardry schools are all coming to hogwarts for the end of the year festivities

meaning that the beauxbaton academy of magic is one of the schools visiting hogwarts

meaning "(y/n) IS VISITING!! (y/n) IS COMING TO HOGWARTS!!"

seungkwan’s running around the castle in pure delight as he holds the flyer cautioning students of the scheduled arrivals of the visiting schools

all the schools are to be welcomed in the great hall with a feast and performances from the frog choir

meaning the moment you step in hogwarts, you're gonna be able to see and hear him!!

and bc he's singing a solo song for the welcoming feast, seungkwan's nervous and scared as hell

even more nervous when seungcheol and chan agreed to teach him how play quidditch

even more nervous when he first left jeju island for hogwarts his first year

but in the letter he gets a week before you're scheduled to come to hogwarts, you tell him not to fret or worry (bc you know by now that he's gonna internally fuss over everything) and that you can't wait to meet him and spend time with him

and that motivates him to count down the days even more:)

as seungkwan stands at the front of the great hall with the rest of the frog choir, there's a sea of pale blue uniforms that makes it way to the front of the tables, all the beauxbaton students rippling down like waves when you all sit down

and that's when seungkwan realizes he doesn't even know what you look like, so he can't even point you out in the sea of students

and that's when you realize the exact same thing, but at least you know seungkwan is one of the guys up at the very front

headmaster mcgonagall begins her welcoming speech and following announcements to you and your classmates before turning it over to the frog choir with a proud flourish

you constantly teeter left and right to clearly see the choir members as they sing, but your vision is mostly blocked by your upperclassmen

when the songs change, you immediately recognize the voice singing the solo and you gasp, "it's seungkwan!"

your friend mark gives you a questioning look, but you ignore it and lean towards his shoulder to see the group

you have to sit up straighter to see a charmingly cute boy with blonde hair singing his heart out in the front of the hall

and you don’t even second-guess it, you know it’s the same boo seungkwan you’ve been exchanging letters with for months

you've listened to his voice letter a million times over and over again to know his voice like the back of your hand

your heart melts at the sight of seungkwan thriving in the spotlight, his powerful voice commanding your attention with such fervor

your eyes are focused on only him and when his solo is finished, you clap and cheer as loud as you can, catching seungkwan’s attention and making him flustered when he locks eyes with you

the feast commences and you can’t help but peer around for your pen pal as you sit in the crowded benches but there's too many ppl in the room to really look

when the headmasters announce the sleeping arrangements and such, you decide to set out for seungkwan as more and more students walk past you

"don’t wait up for me!" you call to your friends, who all give you confused looks

you get to the front of the hall when you notice all the frog choir students talking in clumps with their frogs in their arms

you tap the handsome boy’s shoulder, "hi uh, you’re seungkwan—you’re boo seungkwan, right?"

he politely nods, "yes that’s me, do I know you?" he turns to you and takes in your beauxbatons uniform before making the connection in his head

you smile widely, "I’m—"

"(Y/N)! oh mY GOSH," seungkwan wraps you up in a giant hug and spins you around

"you were the girl who cheered so loud for seungkwan after he sang!" seokmin notes as his frog croaks in his arms

"guilty" you smile and seungkwan honestly has the biggest heart eyes for you

he goes ahead and starts introducing you to his friends and he gets lost when he’s trying to show you where you’re supposed to be staying at in the castle bc he's just so enamoured by you!!

every morning for the festivities, seungkwan always finds you and eats breakfast with you, becoming his usual chatterbox self and introducing himself to your friends and telling you story after story

like the time jeonghan and peeves pranked mingyu and wonwoo on their way to potions and mingyu didn't speak to wonwoo for a week bc he thought it wonwoo who was messing with him

or when seokmin nearly cried when hagrid had him feed a hippogriff during their care of magical creatures class

or when he completely and utterly failed at quidditch

he adores showing you around hogwarts

boo seungkwan is your personal tour guide!!

he even sneaks you into the quidditch commentator’s box to show you the view of the pitch

hogsmeade visits are his favorite!!

he loves going into the candy shop the most

buys two of everything so you have an array of choices and makes you sample everything, "ok these are my favorite candies, you have to try them!"

"that’s what you said about the first one"

"they’re all my favorites, here try this one" he begins shoving another one into your hand to eat

he loves listening to you talk about beauxbatons and your life there

seungkwan gives you his full, undivided attention with his chin in the palm of his hands

when you and him walk around, seungkwan lets you put your arm through his and you stroll along the street together

your classmates all stare at you and whisper bc they think you’re dating now

and seungkwan’s tense about ppl whispering bc he used to be bullied for being a ‘mudblood’ during his first year, so he hates the whispers and quiet murmurs

but you don’t pay attention to the whispers bc you don’t even realize they’re talking about you two

bc you’re just so focused on him and you comfort him and tell him to focus on you and the beautiful spring day in front of you

it makes seungkwan feel 10 times better and his heart soars even higher bc of you

"for you," seungkwan picks a flower from a florist’s shop and twirls it in his hand before handing it to you, a small pink tinge on his cheeks

you two go back to hogwarts in the best mood possible

your friends start to tease you about dating seungkwan but you just say you and him are just super close friends

bc you technically are, and knowing seungkwan, you know he’d never make the first move, so you decide to take the leap

"so seungkwan?" he nods and you decide now or never, "are you going to the end of the year dance with anyone?"

he shrugs and he continues walking, "not really, I usually go with hansol and seokmin to the dances, and that’s because I sing at the dance too, so no"

"oh, that’s cool" it is so not cool and you think seungkwan is oblivious as to what you’re getting at

but he doesn’t say anything else bc he’s already speculating that you’ve already been asked out

bc he also overheard your friends saying some hogwarts upperclassmen wanted to ask you out

bc you’re beautiful!! and funny!! and caring!! and super considerate and genuine!!

who wouldn’t want to ask you to the dance:’(

so seungkwan avoids talking about the dance and bc you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it, you don't

he says he’s just stressed from exams and frog choir practices bc seungkwan is asked to sing something at the dance and of course, he obliges per usual

but he’s not sure if he wants to sing if it means seeing you dance with someone else

but he agrees to sing still bc he promised to and he doesn’t want to disappoint anyone

and the night of the dance, he’s rushing to the great hall bc he overslept after commentating on the last quidditch match of the season 

and when he spots hansol by the punch bowl, he notices someone else in a beautiful, breathtaking gown next to him

his eyes widen when he realizes it’s you and he becomes a flustered mess, "h-hi! (y/n), you look—" seungkwan stutters over his words and you’re taken aback by all his compliments

"thank you seungkwan, you look very, very handsome yourself" you take the time to admire him in his clean and crisp suit

seungkwan shakes his head, "where’s your date? wait, is hansol your date?" his heart slightly breaks but it mends itself when hansol and you furiously shake your heads

"no no no, he’s not my date—no offense hansol," hansol chuckles and takes his cue to leave you two alone and you smile, "I don’t have a date"

"wHAT? why? did someone turn you down? because if so—" this boy is prepared to duel someone for you but you stop him from stomping off

"I was actually hoping you’d dance with me, and be my date..." 

seungkwan turns around several times and points to himself in disbelief, "m-me? you want me to be your date?"

you breathe out a "yes! what’s so hard to believe about that?"

"oh, uh..." seungkwan starts to list a bunch of reasons but you stop him before he can even say a another one

"that’s no way to talk about yourself, seungkwan. you’re amazing and handsome and funny and so kind-hearted and I want you and just you to be my date, so please be mine? m-my date, of course"

he takes your hand and wraps it with his own, "I’d be honored to"

you and him dance with hansol and seokmin the whole time, the upbeat music perfect for your lack of dance experience

when you and him are resting and drinking punch, jihoon calls him over to the stage, "seungkwan! it’s your turn to sing"

seungkwan forgot he had to sing the whole time being with you and he apologizes, "I’m so sorry, I forgot I have to go up"

"no no, go ahead! I’ll be waiting for you"

he kisses the back of your hand and leaves you with your punch with a lingering smile

before he goes up on stage, he whispers something to jihoon and then takes the stage

seungkwan locks eyes with you and he mouths "this is dedicated to you" before queuing jihoon to play the piano

and it’s the same song he sang for you in the very first voice letter

and bc it’s a love song and it’s the very first song you’ve ever heard him sing, you start tearing up

and even though you’re standing by yourself, you can feel seungkwan’s love wrap around you as he pours such emotion and power into his singing

you hug him the moment he steps off the stage and he nearly is knocked over by the force of it, "I did well, I’m guessing?"

"you made me cry, so yes mission accomplished"

"noooo, it's never my mission to make you cry, what are you talking about!"

when jihoon sings another slow song next, seungkwan dances with you on the outskirts of the dance floor, his soft singing making you smile

when he’s walking you back to your quarters, his jacket is around your shoulders and you’re super sleepy and you’re leaning on his chest

you just want to stay with seungkwan in this moment and he sits the two of you down on one of the white marble staircases 

which is so one of the magical moving staircases in hogwarts, but seungkwan honestly forgets that

your eyes are closed and you look so peaceful and seungkwan leans closer to try and shift you more on his shoulder but the staircase starts moving directions and that’s when he accidentally kisses you

you wake up startled bc huh?? was that just your dream or did he really kiss you??

and seungkwan stands up and he’s panicking bc it was an accident and he didn’t mean to steal a kiss from you

but you calm him down and tell him it’s alright bc you really like him and you don’t mind stealing a couple kisses every so often 

you wrap your hand in his and he squeezes your hand back, kissing your hand before leaning into you and placing a soft kiss on your lips

and that’s the magical story of how you and seungkwan got together

thanks to a bunch of handwritten letters, peaceful magical relations, a song dedicated to you, and a magical moving staircase:’)

<3

[fierypen37]

The Oasis

Here you have a plot fragment I’ve been kicking around. Held Captive takes precedence, but this is fun to play with.

‘The Oasis’ was a rather pretentious name for a glorified hole-in-the wall, she thought. Then again, as one of the most recognizable faces in the known world, such places could be counted upon for their discretion. Crammed between a seedy tavern and an even seedier lawyer’s office, The Oasis sat in a neglected shopping district on Visenya’s Hill. A perfect place to escape her life. The pressures of running her own law practice in addition to her family’s billion-crown conglomerate, her fiancé Daario, her miserable brother Viserys . . . Pain throbbed between her shoulder blades and at the base of her skull, urging her beyond her prevaricating. Missy would help. Missy always helped.

Daenerys shoved open the heavy wooden door, embraced by the cool, humming quiet of the foyer. The cool of central air was a breath of relief after the sticky heat of the day. A water feature bubbled in the corner, soft strains of harp music floated in the air. The counter was empty, despite the tinkle of the door’s bell giving away her entry. Daenerys frowned, her body strung taut as piano wire.

Her lone ally on the Board of Trustees, Tyrion Lannister, flicked a card on her desk three weeks ago with conspiratorial wink. It was a memorable occasion, she remembered. Her face was splashed across newspapers and magazines, photographers of dubious reputation swearing she had sacked Daario for cheating . . . again. The wedding had taken on a demented life of its own, her brother snidely offering the hall of their old family estate on Dragonstone to hold the boatloads of the King’s Landing elite planning to attend. In Meereen, the Harpy Triumvirate shirked her injunction on human trafficking. Company stock had taken a dip in light of the scandal revolving around her COO Cersei Lannister and her brother Jamie. That, plus three nights without a wink of sleep had led Daenerys to find some very creative words for the Meereenese chief officer seated across the arbitrating table from her.

At first, Daenerys had taken umbrage at Tyrion’s casual implication. Nothing raised her hackles more than some idiot implying it was ‘her time of the month’ when her temper soured. Over morning tea, brewed strong and sweetened with sugar, Tyrion reassured her that this place had maintained his sanity during his time in government work. Daenerys took his advice with some reluctance.

Missy’s soft hands and patient touch worked years of tension from her body. Daenerys had made it a weekly ritual. Sometimes twice weekly, if her schedule allowed. It became a craving, to replace the sweet Lysene cigarettes she quit for the last time three days ago. Shae, The Oasis’ proprietor, was an ex-girlfriend of Tryion’s, with a certain low humor and disarming demeanor that Daenerys admired.  

Shae emerged from the dim recesses of an inner office.

“Miss Targaryen, we did not have you scheduled today,” she said, a soft accent smoothing the syllables. Daenerys managed a weak smile.

“I need an hour. Please,” she said. Tension sent bolts of pain up into her skull, the edges of her vision pulsed red. Shae’s finely shaped eyebrows puckered.

“Missy isn’t here. She and Grey had an appointment with the fertility doctor today,” Shae said. Daenerys’ fists curled, and, absurdly, tears gathered in her eyes. The hope of relief snatched away was almost unbearable. Daenerys gave a nod, blinking away moisture.

“May I sit a moment?”

“Of course. May I fetch you some water? Tea?” Shae asked.

“Yes. Tea, thank you,” she said.

Daenerys sank into one of the overstuffed chairs, kneading the back of her neck beneath the coil of her braid. She rolled her neck, listening to the vertebrae crunch like tires on gravel. The soft trickle of the water feature reminded her of Dragonstone, where no matter how high you climbed, the ocean was never far away. Once, she and Vis splashed in the shallows in summer . . . it felt as if it belonged in another lifetime.

A glance at the magazines on the table featured a picture of Margaery Tyrell, the lovely and glamorous actress, and her beau Robb Stark on a yacht on the Sunset Sea. Another bore the image of her own face, looking harried and irritated as she barked into her cell. The headline read: Dragon CEO Fallen Off Cloud Nine?    

“Tea, my dear,” Shae said. Daenerys accepted the foam cup of hot tea with murmured thanks. She savored the rich, spicy mix as it slid down her throat. It was Braavosi if she remembered right.

“Rough day?” Shae asked. Daenerys smirked, gesturing to the array of magazines.

“I’m sure you’ve read of a more interesting sequence of events,” she said dryly. Shae gave a graceful shrug, the fitted gold-hued sweater clinging to her sleek curves.

“That magazine is a rag, but at least it’s entertaining. You know retreats to the Summer Isles are all the rage this summer, yeah?” Daenerys gave a reluctant snort of laughter, polishing off the last of the tea.

“I do have another masseur if you would prefer. He trained with Missy,” Shae said. Daenerys frowned.

“He?”

“Yes, he’s excellent. Knowledgeable, perfectly professional.”

Her first instinct was to refuse. Male attention had never been in short supply, not since she was thirteen. Public attention had hovered around her like an obnoxious glittery cloud since she was born. A wealthy heiress from an old and influential family like her mother marrying the mercurial and charming politician Aerys Targaryen had turned heads, and tongues wagged at the very public and sordid fallout of their divorce—made more torrid given her father’s tenure in public office.

Daenerys bowed her head and a knife of white-hot pain shot up the back of her neck. She blinked away tears, studying the ragged, bloody edges of her cuticles. A nervous habit, her mother had tried for years to break her of it. Daenerys exhaled a long, slow breath, caught between pain and embarrassment.

“I’ll book an hour,” she said. Shae patted her knee.

“You won’t regret it. Come on, you’ve earned some pampering.”

Shae led her to one of their rooms, and Daenerys felt her knees weaken at the thought of impending relief.

“I’ll get Jon. You get comfortable,” Shae said, squeezing her hand in passing.

“Thank you for working me in, Shae.”

“Think nothing of it, dear.”

The door shut behind her with a soft thump and Daenerys breathed a sigh. The soothing melody played through overhead speakers, the lighting dimmed to a golden ambiance. Daenerys stepped behind the changing screen and disrobed, shedding the flowing trousers in charcoal grey and black leather ankle boots, the sharp-shouldered suit jacket and ruffled crimson blouse. She paused to adjust the dragon pin on her velvet lapel, three dragons joined in a circle. Hastily she unwound her braids and tied her crimped hair into a sloppy bun.

Naked, she slipped under the sheet and blanket on the massage table. Gentle heat radiated from the table padded surface, a curved pillow supporting the backs of her knees. Daenerys screwed her eyes tight shut and tried the meditation techniques her counselor taught her, breathing in and out to a lengthening count of numbers. By the time her exhale reached eight, she heard a quiet knock.

“Come in,” she said, hating the way her voice warbled.

The sound of his step was muted by thick carpet, but soon there was a gentle tap on the table near her shoulder. Daenerys cracked open her eyes and was instantly grateful the dim light hid her expression. Jon was nothing like the sketchy image she imagined. Admittedly, she had little idea what a masseur should look like, but the muscled, rugged person that met her eye certainly didn’t fit her suppositions. Shaggy black hair tied back, a short beard framing full lips, and those eyes—gods, those sooty lashes and rich dark eyes could tempt any woman, magnified by the lenses of his glasses. Simple, wire-rimmed frames, the noseband a bit crooked. Her heartbeat quickened, suddenly feeling vulnerable beneath the fragile protection of the sheet.

“Miss Dany, my name is Jon. I’ll be your masseur for today. Are there any areas you’d like to work on?” She blinked at the name, dimly remembering that is an alias—albeit a thin one—she’d given Shae. His voice too, was full of surprises. A rich, deep voice holding the burr of the North.

“My . . . my neck and shoulders,” she said in a small voice. Jon nodded, his expression composed, polite. One curly strand of hair fell loose from its tie to hang in his face.

“And light to medium pressure?”

“Yes.”

“Warm towels ok?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like scalp massage, as well?”

“Um, ok.”

Jon nodded, scratching notes on a notepad. Something about his manner was disarming, Daenerys felt some of her trepidation evaporate.

“Ok. I’ll get started. Just let me know if you need anything,” he said. The lights dimmed even lower, to a murky half-dark. Daenerys felt the tension ratchet up between her shoulders, in anxiety or anticipation, she wasn’t sure. Jon settled on a stool above her head.

“Scoot a bit farther up. We’ll start with your scalp.” Clutching the sheet to her chest, Daenerys squirmed toward the upper edge of the table.

“Good. Right there. Just relax,” Jon said, cupping her head.

Thick fingers parted her hair, smoothing along her scalp with gentle pressure. Nerves tingled at the touch, a low fission of pleasure. His thumbs glided along the muscles around the base of her skull, then down to press firmly where her neck and head joined. Missy usually paid attention to her neck and back, murmuring poetry in Valyrian. Daenerys had learned the old language at her mother’s knee, and the lilt of its syllables was soothing. The talk was distraction enough to allow Daenerys to relax. But she found that Jon’s silence was comfortable rather than grating.

After several minutes of his unhurried work, Daenerys forgot her trepidation. His hands rubbed behind her ears, then his thumb moved up to press at the crest of her forehead. Pleasure melted through her like butter on a hot skillet. Daenerys bit back a cry. Gods, that felt good.

“The pressure ok?” Jon asked. Even, his voice was caress, low in tone, roughened by that subtle northern burr. Daenerys blinked her eyes open only to be swallowed by those wide, dark eyes. His gaze felt warm, intensely focused.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s ok,” she said. Daenerys closed her eyes, determined not to open them again during their allotted hour. She was here to relax, not ogle her masseur. The table’s heater kicked on, a fine vibration beneath her.

Jon brushed her hair out of the way, and she heard a faint click. A wet glug and Jon’s warm, lotion-slicked hand smoothed down the back of her neck. Yes, the smooth glide, the soft perfume of lavender, the perfect pressure on those angry, painful knots in her muscles. Jon’s hands were very warm, and the texture just the slightest bit rough. So massage wasn’t his only job. Missy’s hands were soft as silk given all the lotion she used with her clients.

Little by little, Jon kneaded and pressed and smoothed and pinched until she lay pliant under his touch. He moved from her neck to her shoulders to her upper chest along her collarbones in smooth, even sweeps. There it was, that warm, floating place, beyond worry, beyond pain. Daenerys simply existed, soothed and tended by a man with magic hands and the face of a young god . . . Oh no. Gods, she didn’t need this now. She did not need to be attracted to her masseur.

“Dany, I’ll have you roll over now. Lay your head in the cushion,” Jon said.

Daenerys hurriedly obeyed, thankful to hide her burning face. She was perving on her masseur. This was the height of embarrassment. She should just end the session early and leave . . . a broken moan left her as Jon smoothed his hands down either side of her spine, pressing hard enough to shift muscles and undo hidden knots of tension. How hadn’t she noticed him peeling back the sheet to her waist? Daenerys’ fists clenched on the table, wishing she could melt into a puddle and drip away down a drain. She waited for the chuff of laughter, or an awkward fumbling away from the table. Neither happened. The silence was unbearable.

“Relax, Dany,” Jon’s voice said, quiet and unobtrusive. Tears of gratitude gathered at the corners of her eyes, hidden in the curve of the pillow. Even if his expression mocked her, she was grateful for his easy professionalism.

Jon’s hands performed delicate work, then followed by the broad even pressure of his forearms, smoothed by sweet-smelling lotion. Even the chafe of the hair on his arms was pleasant. A sparkling wave of feeling danced behind her eyes after each stroke, every nerve shivered in delight. A fine dew of sweat rose on her skin. She craved more, the heat sank in her blood like fever, on her skin, her back where he touched, her breasts, between her thighs . . .

Jon’s hands lifted from her skin and she nearly cried out at the loss. After a couple clicks and rustles in the corner of the room, Daenerys understood. Get a grip! she told herself sternly. Now not only was she perving on her masseur, she was now aroused. Very aroused, she noticed, clenching her thighs around a sweet, wet ache. She thanked the gods for small mercies. Lying on her stomach, at least he couldn’t see her hardened nipples.

“Warm towel,” Jon said in warning.

The searing damp heat was a shock, but far from an unpleasant one. Daenerys hummed, deeming that sound to be acceptable. Jon pressed the towel down, smoothing away excess lotion before peeling it away before it became too cool to be comfortable. The brief loss of contact was needed to restore a proper frame of mind. Jon was a fantastic masseur, but that was his job. He was in no way responsible for her body’s reaction, or any of the needy, desperate thoughts that came to mind.

The sheet and blanket were straightened back over her back. It was delicate balance, made with care, the need to access her body while preserving her relaxation and modesty. Daenerys marveled at the implicit trust in massage. A person naked before a stranger, alone in a dark room. Jon moved down her arms, kneading the thin skin on her wrists and palms. Daenerys concentrated on keeping her breaths smooth and even. Gently, Jon tucked her arms back under the sheet, moving down to work on her legs and feet. As she shifted, a faint wafting of her arousal rose up.  

“Tender spot?” Jon asked, his thumb lightening the pressure on her calf. He sensed her sudden tension. Her face on fire, Daenerys forced herself to relax.

“Yeah, a little,” she lied, “running stairs on Aegon’s Hill makes them tight.”

“I hear you. That last bit up to Targaryen Palace makes me want to die. My dog doesn’t seem to mind, though,” Jon murmured, before returning to his patient work.

It rested on her tongue to offer to join him on a run, anything to prolong their interaction. She dismissed it out of hand. How pathetic would he think she was? Some deeper part of her mind was storing up details of pour over later in the privacy of her queen-sized bed, the exact texture of his hands, the warmth of him, the magic channeled through his touch.

Jon worked his way to her feet, kneading the arch with his thumbs. Daenerys bit her lip around any more embarrassing sounds, despite how good it felt.  A soft chirp announced the end of their session as Jon wrapped hot towels around both feet. Despite the alarm, Jon seemed in no hurry to end their session. Instead, he smoothed more lotion up her calf, cupping the muscle with gentle pressure. Hidden knots of tension shivered and relaxed. He did the same at the small of her back, then again at the base of her neck. Through his subtle shifting, she caught a whiff of his scent. Soap and woodsy aftershave, with the faint tang of sweat. The room was very warm, after all.

“That ends our session today, Dany. I’ll leave you to dress. Remember to drink plenty of fluids,” Jon said, with a farewell squeeze on her shoulder. The words steadied her. Professional, polite, considerate. He was exactly what she needed today, in Missy’s absence. The problem was, Daenerys was left with only the taste of disappointment. She wanted more.      

                                                        ~

 Jon closed the door behind him with a soft click, as he had a thousand times before with a thousand different clients. Massages were a sensual experience, one made awkward when done with a stranger. People made noise when touched just right, it was a sign he was doing his job. Professionalism came easy to him. It made him a good masseur. Ever since mastering the art, he liked to impart healing, comfort and relaxation to his clients. He slipped into almost a trance, focusing on the muscle and bone beneath the skin, sweeping away the curled knots of tension and pain. With that focus, he could tune out other sensory input. He’d given massages to every shape and size of woman—men too. Beautiful or plain, overweight or thin, it made little difference to him.

This time was different. This time, he was hard as steel.

Jon made his way down the narrow hallway and into the laundry closet. The door was solid against his back, the room humid and warm as dryers hummed and washers rumbled. Jon exhaled a shaky breath, wiping the last of the massage lotion from his hands. Gods, what great fucking timing for his libido to rear its ugly head! It had been years since his high school girlfriend Ygritte dumped him, and female companionship had been superficial and mostly physical since. He got regularly laid, but now his throbbing dick was determined to puncture a hole in his trousers.

“Fuck,” he said, trying to breathe it down.

He closed his eyes and saw again the silky knot of her hair, a determined curl draped against her nape. The graceful slope of her back, the twin dimples at the base, just above the luscious curves of her buttocks. Had he dreamed up the scent of her cunt, so rich and female? That sound . . . Jon thumped the back of his head hard on the door, fisting his cock through his trousers. He hadn’t imagined that. Leaned over the table as he kneaded her back with the heels of his hands, she had moaned. An entirely unobjectionable sound by the current context, but with her—it woke some lustful demon inside him. It didn’t help that his cock was inches away from her mouth at the time.

Jon exhaled a sharp breath through his teeth. His cock pulsed through layers of cotton and denim. He was at work, for gods’ sake! He couldn’t jack off to the thought of a client. A perfectly innocent (gorgeous) client. He also couldn’t walk down the hall to his next client in his current state. Mrs. Pepperidge, a matron in her eighties with gouty arthritis in every joint, would object.

“Damn it,” he said. It was a credit to the mysterious Dany that even with the mental image of Mrs. Pepperidge’s crepe-y skin and dowager’s hump didn’t kill his erection. Nope, that just turned his thoughts back to the milky pale perfection of her skin, warm and smooth beneath his hands. There was a mole high on her left shoulder, her littlest toe had crooked nail. He might know her as well as a lover, he mused. The most private secrets allured him. Those high, bouncy breasts, her nipples pert against the sheet, that mouthwatering whiff of her cunt . . . fuck, fuck, fuck!

Jon yanked off his glasses and marched to the sink. The wrenched on the tap, and doused his face with cold water. Over and over, that cold sharp jolt, little trickles creeping down his neck and wetting the collar of his polo. There. Mercifully, his arousal abated. A rap at the door. Taptaptap.

“Jon, are you in there?” Shae’s accented voice floated through the door.

“Yeah, I’ll be right out. Just washing some linens,” Jon said.

“Ok. Your next client is in Room Four.”

“On my way,” he said, scrubbing his face and neck dry on a clean towel. He crammed all those thoughts of Dany into a box in his head. She was Missy’s client; it was chance that she’d been paired with him. It would never happen again. He needed to get used to that.        

[hazbinextgeneration]

Down The Rabbithole Ch16

(Disclaimer: The song Chesire sings is Wonderland by Sounds Like Harmony and in no way mine.)

The whole audience of the arena and the three standing there stared at the entrance to this place where foul smelling smoke poked out from the entrance and .....Music played? SERIOUSLY!! WHAT WAS WITH THESE PEOPLE AND SINGING?! Right now it reminded her of her cousin Robert's video games when a new boss appeared. But before now it just seemed like a giant musical like on Broadway, but it just seemed so menacing now as music magically came from no where. Allison shakingly stood up to her feet and just now realized she had no umbrella. It wasn't much but she'd rather have SOMETHING to defend her with, she felt vulnerable without it as they all watched the very tiny shadow approaching from the smoke and music. Allison blinked and shook her head before looking again. Marching towards them, out of the smoke, was Chesire. But this cat wasn't like the regular smiling cat she was used to seeing. As soon as the crowd could make out who it was, there was screams of fright and hundreds of people scrambling from their seats and heading for what she guessed what was the exit to the stands. Their footsteps sounded like thunder and their screams like a millions horror movies were playing at once but for some reason Allison could hear the mysterious boss music clearly. Was she going crazy or was this more of Chesire's magic? The queen immediately pressed back against the Fortune Teller and the moth wrapped his free arms around her bringing up one of his giant wings. He too seemed slightly worried despite his much calmer face. Velveteen looked down right terrorfied of this Chesire. This Chesire's smile wasn't that happy go lucky kind of smile, this one had sinister intentions behind it and that tail.....It was unlike anything Allison had seen before. Separated into floating parts with blue rings, a thread of beads keeping it all attached to his body, his head off his shoulder floating- Well he could always do that, but watching his head just bobbing along permanently above his shoulders as his body bounced along was a little unnerving. And that's another weird thing. He was walking instead of floating, his body bouncing to the beat of the mysterious music and his hand twirling his staff, those slanted eyes lazer focused right onto Velveteen like some owl to a mouse. He didn't even acknowledge the hundreds of people running from him or the Fortune Teller staring at him with narrowed eye calmly as the cat approached.

"I've met this cat and he said, 'Son. I've got nine lives and you've got one.~ So make the best of this you can.~ Cause nothing goes according to plan.~'", Chesire sang, never mind how someone could sing while there head was floating from their neck but the song had a calm, happy tone but there was clearly a menacing undertone to it. "This cat was wise so I took it's advice.~ And waited for a little sunlight.~ I got this feeling that it might work out alriiiiight.~"

In a moment of panic the Queen pulled her staff out and pointed it at Chesire. A familiar rumbling appeared as those eight dirt pillars appeared and went straight towards the small blue cat. Chesire didn't even flinch, stop moving, or blinked as they rumbled towards him.

"Cause life is a trip and it's full of misadventure!~ The cat in the hat has a panic attack.~ But it's laced with good intentions.~" He finally darted his eyes up to the pillars rumbling towards him and without even stopping he raised his staff and the first ring around his tail disappeared. A giant burst of wind tore through the arena destroying the pillars instantly and crumbling them into dust. Fortune brought his wing up more and made Velveteen duck under it to protect her from the dust cloud but Allison was again knock to her bottom and she cough and waved the dust away. "I guess you could say WE'RE ALL MAD HERE!!~ Life is a trip and it's been a bad year.~"

The dust began to slowly settle and when the three looked back up all the pillars were gone and turned into piles of harmless dirt. Allison's jaw dropped. It took her hard work and thinking just to get rid of ONE and Chesire blew then down like paper. He still calmly walked towards them as he kept singing.

"I met this dog and he said, 'Child.~ You'll outlive me seven times.~ So make the best of this you can cause nothing goes according to plan.~' This dog was wise so I took it's advice.~ And waited for a little sunlight.~ I got this feeling that it might turn out alriiiiight.~"

By now most of the arena had been cleared out and again in a moment of panick the Queen stomped down her foot and another familiar rumble was made. The stone walls from the close combat trial appeared and went towards him as he still smiled and calmly sang towards them.

"Cause life is a trip and it's full of misadventure.~ The cat in the hat has a panic attack.~ But it's laced with good intentions.~," he sang just as the walls completely surrounded him and made him disappear from view. They didn't see it, but a second blue ring disappeared from his tail as he again pointed his staff at the stone wall. There was an explosion from the other side and one of the walls immediately cracked and fell to a pile of small rocks on the ground. He didn't care he just started walking over then as he continued singing. "I guess you could say that WE'RE ALL MAD HERE!!~ Life is a trip and it's been a bad year.~" He suddenly stopped ontop of the small pile of ruble and stared intensly at the queen, "Nothing is real and that's a fact!~ When you make believe in Wonderland.~ Nothing is real and that's a fact!!~ When you make believe in Wonderland!~" Velveteen shrieked when some invisible force grabbed her leg and made her trip sending her to the ground and the Fortune Teller promptly threw his beloved pipe to the side and quickly grabbed her with all four has as she was dragged a few feet away from him. "I'M JUST A MAD MAN!!~"

Chesire continued watching her hang onto Fortune Teller for dear life as the usual calm moth scowled at Chesire and pulled her away from his invisible magical hold as Allison watched wide eyes with mixed emotions.

"Love is a locket I keep in my pocket.~....Cause life is a trip and full of misadventure!~" He continued his decent down the small pile of rocks and headed right for them. Eye narrowing at the Queen. "The cat in the hat has a panic attack!!~ But it's laced with good intentions!!~ I guess you can say that WE'RE ALL MAD HERE!! Life is a trip and it's BEEEEEEENN!!~ Life is a trip and it's full of misadventure!!~ The cat in the hat has a panic attack!!~ But it's laced with good intentions!!~ I GUESS YOU COULD SAY THAT WE'RE ALL MAD HERE!!!~ Life is a trip and it's bee-..." He stopped.....he absolutely stopped when red and whites stripes stood in front of him....He slowly blinked and slowly looked up, up, up and into the angry red face of Allison scowling down at him. "...a bad year....ALLISON!! OH THANK GOODNESS YOU'RE STANDING!!" He jumped up and floated in the air still smiling at her. "Are you alright?! You're not hurt are you?!" His eyes looked over her dirtied body and then to her scraped cheek and his eyes narrowed more, and ears pinned to the back of his head. "It seems to me I came a little LATE!!....Which I do apologize. I got here as fast as I could!"

Allison still scowled at him, the rest of the people in the arena piling out in a panic as she spoke. "Let her go, Chesire."

The cat blinked. "....Beg pardon?"

"I said let her go, Chesire. She's not a bad person, not really." Chesire looked as if she had just changed into a dog and threatened to chase him. Smile froze on his face as she stood there, scowl never leaving as the moth continued to play tug of war with the invisible force. "She told me everything and was honest. Which is more I can say for you." Her eyes narrowed more. "Why didn't you tell me you turned people into dust?"

That seemed to make him flinch, his smile disappeared until it turned into a frown and his eye became hurt. Behind them Velveteen was dropped to the ground finally and Fortune pulled her to her feet immediately. Holding her to him as they stared at the cat and Allison. A popping crackling sound was heard and Allison blinked as Cheshire's tail was forced back together like a regular cat tail and it sealed inself back to his body as he deflated in front of her.....His paws shakingly came up to grab his head, and pull it back down onto his small neck as he stared at her.

"I-....was hoping you'd never find out. I-...'' He tried smiling again. "I was only trying to protect you. I never even expected for you to come here. W-Why would it be important?"

"It's important because well, I DID fall down here. On accident but here none the less! And it would've been nice to have a heads up. But Im more hurt because my own best friend says he wants to protect me, but didn't trust me enough to tell me that." Her scowl melted into a hurtful frown as she stared at him. "We have a lot to talk about Chesh. But you need to tell me everything from now on." She smiled and held out her hands, promise?"

Chesire still floated there for a moment staring at her....before smiling again and throwing himself at her in a hug. "I promise! Im so sorry, Allison."

She hugged him tightly. "It's ok. I forgive you....But there's two other people you should also apologize too." She turned around and made him face the two still watching them in fright and scowls alike. Chesire paused looking at the Fortune Teller...then the queen...then at Allison who nodded towards them. "It would mean a lot to me."

Chesire still stared at her for a bit, before looking over to the strange couple and smiled nervously. "So sorry about the inpolite drop in. I was worried about Allison after she was so rudely called away.~"

"And you'll help fix everything, right?"

He looked behind him at the destroyed stone wall and the doors that was tossed off their hendges. "....Oh. OH, OF COURSE!!"

"And you won't do this ever again right?"

"Right, right! I promise." He looked back to the Queen, "Uh....How about it? Truce?"

Velveteen still looked at the small cat Allison held in her arms and jumped when Fortune put a hand on her shoulder. " It would be wise to take this opportunity, my love. Let a long hatred come to rest and make peace. After all, you're more than capable of letting forgiveness into your heart, aren't you?"

The queen didn't answer for a moment, but looked over to this human who beat her and this Cat who had butted heads with her for years. "......" She sighed and nodded. "Truce."

Allison ended up smiling and hugged Chesire more who giggled those funny giggles of his. And Fortune smiled that calm smile of his. "I'm glad everything has turned out for the better. But I think before we forget, we should fix the things that are broken." He lifted a hand and pointed to the path of Chesire's destruction and the cat again chuckled nervously.

"oh...Yes, let's do that."

[killmongerdreams]

innocent filth

summary: Bucky’s always had a thing for the shy ones. || bucky x reader x ivar || fratboy!bucky & shy librarian!ivar

warnings: lots of fucking smut jesus fucking christ, threesome, shy!ivar because that MUST be a warning, sub!ivar, sub!reader, dom!bucky, oral

notes: So these past few days have been a flurry of Frat Boy!Bucky and shy Librarian!Ivar, and @justasunflower sent me something about them including reader and her being shy, also, and then it escalated to Bucky having an absolute field day with the both of them. So, therefore, here is a byproduct of that amazing conversation with my little sunflower. I tweaked with it a little bit, but I hope you guys like it. Enjoy! [There will possibly be a part two, because I didn’t include all the smut oops. It’s late here, sorry.]

Bucky closes the door of his bedroom, smirking at you and Ivar. Your nerves were all over the place, daunted by the fact you were fixing to fuck not only one of them but both. Ivar seemed just as nervous as you were, looking down at his boots as he tugged the sleeves of his sweater over his hands. Bucky found the whole ordeal absolutely endearing.

Bucky had enough confidence to fuel all three of you and then some. He locks the door before tugging his boyfriend into a hasty kiss, tongue-fucking his mouth as Ivar hangs on for dear life, letting himself be dominated. Bucky grabs a fistful of Ivar’s hair, yanking his head back roughly. Ivar whines at the lack of contact, eyes glazed over as Bucky stalks towards you.

Warm, large hands encircle your waist, pulling you into an even larger, warmer body. Bucky nuzzles his nose against yours and you can’t help but giggle.

“You don’t like any of this, we’ll stop. Okay, babygirl?” Bucky asks quietly. He waits for you to nod before capturing your mouth in a passionate, toe-curling kiss. He’s significantly gentler with you than he is with Ivar, taking his time to savor the feeling of your lips melding together. When he pulls away, you’re floating on cloud nine, head hazy and drunk.

You and Ivar watch as Bucky settles into his desk chair, confused. He merely smiles, waving his hand. “Go on.” he encourages. “Play with each other.”

You and Ivar inch closer to each other slowly, heat stinging of both of your faces. Bucky laughs quietly from his spot in the chair, thoroughly enjoy this awkward dance the two of you are partaking in. Ivar’s hands are shaking as they settle on your hips. You grip the front of his shirt, chin titling upward as Ivar lowers his head, your mouths brushing against one another teasingly. 

“Don’t be scared.” Bucky murmurs. You look over to find him grinning like the cat who ate the canary. “Kiss her, Ivar. You know you want to.”

The first press of lips is chaste, a way to test the waters. When he sees that you’re not going to pull away, he crowds in closer to you, lips parting as he breathes shakily through his nose. 

“That’s it.” Bucky praises. “God, you two are so gorgeous together.”

You’re not sure who whimpers louder, you or Ivar. His tongue slides across your bottom lip before he pulls it between his teeth, digging into your flesh gently. Wandering hands find Ivar’s hair, and you marvel at how soft it is between your fingers.

“Pull on it, sweetheart.” Bucky instructs. “He loves that.”

You tug gently, swallowing Ivar’s quiet mewl. Your next pull is harder and he gasps, hands slipping to the curve of your ass. He squeezes gently, hips rolling into yours the slightest little bit. He stumbles backwards to the bed, pulling you into his lap.

“Undress her, babyboy.” Ivar’s hands rise unsteadily to the top of your flannel as he kisses down your throat, timidly fumbling with the buttons until the garment flutters to the floor. His eyes go wide at the sight of your black lace bra, chest heaving with equal parts eagerness and nerves.

“F-fuck,” he breathes out quietly. 

“Do the panties match, doll?” Bucky asks you. You nod, moaning quietly as Ivar bites down on your collarbone. 

Ivar tries to unbuckle your bra, skittish fingers tugging on it to no avail. You hear Bucky huff a laugh, his footsteps nearly silent as he sidles in behind you. “You’ve gotta calm down, sugar.” Bucky soothes gently. He pushes Ivar’s hands out of the way, unsnapping your bra with ease. It gets tossed to the floor along with your shirt.

“Such a pretty pair of tits, babygirl.” Bucky cups your throat, thumb pressing underneath your jaw as he coaxes you to lean back against him. Your back ends up arched, breasts on perfect display for both of them to see. “What do you think, kitten? You think our girl here has pretty tits?”

Ivar nods, running his fingers over the underside of your breasts. Bucky tuts disapprovingly. “Tell her, baby. Use your words.”

“T-they’re p-perfect.” Ivar stumbles out, blushing. Bucky grips the back of his head with the hand that’s not massaging your throat, guiding him forward until plump, perfect lips wrap around the peaked bud of your nipple. He sucks gently, tongue laving against your skin, hands stroking over your sides reverently.

“Look at him, babygirl,” Bucky whispers in your ear. “He absolutely worships you.” 

You shiver, moaning quietly. Suddenly, Bucky’s grabbing you by the hips, tossing you gently against the bed. Strong, insistent hands pull at the button of your jeans, peeling them off your legs until they join the rest of your clothes.

The only thing left is your panties - your soaking wet panties. 

Ivar’s breath catches in his throat as he looks over your body with dark, hooded eyes. Bucky runs a hand down your stomach, licking his lips. “You gonna let us take these off’a you? You gonna let us see your pretty little pussy?”

The words fall from his lips like honey, washing over you in a heated daze as you whine lowly. 

“P-please.” Bucky smirks at your plea, leaning down to peck your lips. 

“Settle down, baby.” he coos, kissing your cheek. His stubble scratches across your jaw in the most delicious way. “We’re gonna take care’a you.” he hooks his fingers into your panties, slipping them off slowly. You gasp as the cool air of the room breezes across the heated wetness of your cunt, thighs closing on instinct. “Spread your legs, baby. Let us see.”

“Fuck.” Bucky curses. He slides two fingers through your folds, narrowly avoiding your clit. With his other hand, he grips Ivar’s jaw, forcing his lips to part as he slides his wet fingers into his mouth. Ivar sucks obediently, moaning softly at your taste. “Good?”

“Yeah.” Ivar breathes out, eyelashes fluttering. 

“I bet she’d love to have your tongue on her, babyboy.” Bucky says low in his ear. Ivar looks at him with wide, pleading eyes, causing Bucky to grin. “Yeah? You want that? Want to make her come on your tongue?”

Ivar nods, reaching for you greedily. Bucky moves to sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Ivar spreads your thighs even further apart, palming your skin. “He’s got a talented tongue, princess.” Bucky tells you. “You’re gonna love it.”

Ivar ducks his head, nosing through the little thatch of curls covering your mound. He’s timid at first, barely touching the tip of his tongue against the outside of your folds. “C’mon, babyboy,” Bucky encourages, running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “Show her how good you are at pleasing.”

Your hips buck as Ivar licks a broad, hard path through your slit, moans tumbling from the both of you in harmony. His hands grip at your thighs nearly hard enough to bruise, holding you steady as he suckles at your clit. You shout a cry of his name, clenching the sheets between your fingers. 

“Good?” Bucky asks. You nod, reaching out to grip his thigh in desperation. Your hands are shaking as Ivar fucks his tongue in and out of your entrance like a man starved, grunting lowly into your cunt with every pass. Bucky holds your hand, letting you squeeze hard as that familiar feeling starts to pool in your belly. “Use your fingers to fuck her.” Bucky instructs, watching your face intently.

You keen as two thick fingers slide into your hole, stretching you in the best way possible. His tongue circles your clit as he fucks you with his hand slowly, scissoring his fingers gently. He curls them suddenly, brushing against your g-spot, and you can’t help the truly whorish moan that you let out. Satisfied, hungry blue eyes look up at you, begging you to come undone.

“Come, doll.” Bucky groans. “He wants you to soak his fucking face.”

Ivar moans his assent, fucking you harder with his fingers. It only takes a few more moments before your back bows away from the mattress, nearly screaming as Ivar rides out the waves of pleasure with you. As you come down, melting into the sheets in a post-orgasmic haze, Bucky strokes your hair. “So fuckin’ beautiful when you come, baby.” he praises. “You good?”

“Y-yeah,” you whisper breathlessly. Ivar hides his pleased grin in the inside of your thigh. “T-that was...” you trail off, giggling quietly. 

“I told you he was talented with that tongue.” Bucky brags. “Fuckin’ amazing isn’t it?” he drags Ivar up into a filthy kiss, running his tongue across his lips and chin. “Kinda disappointed that I didn’t get my mouth on ya, doll.”

He kisses your hipbone, eyes glinting wickedly as he looks up at you. “Don’t worry, though. I’m gonna get a turn with you soon when he’s done.”

You smiled back at him, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. These men were going to kill you.

TAGGING: [some of you could’t be tagged for some reason]

@justasunflower @charliexowrite @captainpoopweinersoldier @valarm0rghvlis @bluearchersstuff @evil-little-pwincess-scientist @xchaoticbloodx @blackroseyaz @kyleannsmut @ivartrash @ivartheboneme @chaoswandas @zadyalyss @modestlyconfused @cruelle-despairing-fish @cassandra-munn @wanderlustingandwandering @tiyetiye @ursulaismymiddlename @shitty-imagines-95 @lizency @tiredofthisgeneration @plumswithbucky @kudosia @samanthalindsey299 @golfkit @sebastian-stans-thighs @lovelynemesis @marvelous-fvcks

[georgiabread]

sometimes this has a hot, sweet taste

summary: Then, the inevitable declaration, murmured into the skin just below his ear: “I really, really love you, Phil. Like, so much.”

word count: 2.4k

trigger warnings: none

a/n: this is slightly trashy and they're uncharacteristically sappy, but maybe i got it spot on. if you can't tell, dan and phil at the beach is my favourite thing.

Santorini is sleep, sun cream and fruity cocktails all folded between a few days of calm, and Dan realises he needs it.

This revelation arrives with half-lidded eyes, his body curled into the rubber of an inflated doughnut, floating in the pool of one of those Greek villas he used to see all over holiday sites and Pinterest. The water is blue and blinding and smells like bliss, and he has never appreciated Bryony’s spontaneity more.

The trip was planned and booked before he and Phil ever got the chance to say yes, but there were no regrets involved. Excluding the ungodly hour they arrived and the frail tax-driver of which they were at the mercy, of course. The man had grappled with their lives, scurrying around cliff roads to reach their hotel, and Dan remembers watching his heart tumble across the floor of the minibus.

But no – this idea was a tremendous one. A weekend spent with the people he’s known the longest, without prying cameras and anxiety-inducing social events. It’s a weight off Dan’s back. Because he can rest, unadulterated, no what if’s and but’s attached. Because no one will recognize him and Phil in a sheltered cove off some island in the Mediterranean.

If only it was that simple back in London.

The doughnut grazes the edge of the pool, twists and pushes Dan in another direction. It’s enough to knock him from slumber. Eyelids peel open, toes curl and crack. Dan whimpers in his throat when the sun burns his eyes. Where are his sunglasses? Didn’t Phil borrow them? Damnit Phil. Half-submerged in water and sleep, he decides to blame Phil for any possible blindness.

“Ah. The beast awakens.” Bryony’s voice rises and falls over the pool’s ripples.

Dan glances around, slightly disoriented, until he finds his friend reclined on a deck chair, pineapple juice in hand. “Did Phil steal my sunglasses?” he slurs.

“Probably. He went to get ice cream with Wirrow.”

“If that bitch doesn’t get me chocolate…”

“Don’t worry. He mentioned something about you and choc ice cream.”

“Good.”

“By the way, you should get out of that pool sometime soon. Don’t want another run-in with heat stroke.”

“Fuck, why didn’t anyone wake me up?” Dan flounders in the doughnut for a moment, sinking down the hole in the centre. He eventually makes it to the steps and clambers out. He touches his arm. Definitely freckled. And definitely hot.

Bryony chuckles and sips her juice. “You were too peaceful. Here, I took a photo.”

She finds her phone and her nails patter over the screen, before a picture of Dan’s almost-naked sleeping body is shoved in Dan’s face.

Dan narrows his eyes. “Send that to me. I look mildly cute enough to post it.”

*

A thick blob of gelato drips from Dan’s cup, landing with a dollop on his thigh. It’s chocolate, bittersweet with a dash of coffee. He wipes it away with his thumb and licks it, hears Phil snigger beside him about gross boyfriends or something like that. Their ankles are hooked together underwater, the two of them perched on the side of the pool with expensive ice cream cooling their lips. There is warmth where their arms meet. Freckles are drawn together like constellations, connecting their bodies.

Dan side-eyes Phil after his muttered comment, mouth twitching. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing! I just said it’s yucky when you eat off your thigh,” Phil says, slurping on his spoon to conceal a grin.

“I thought certain people rather enjoyed eating off my skin.”

“Hey, don’t be so vulgar.” Phil shoves Dan’s shoulder, letting his cheeks accumulate a satisfying redness.

Giggling, Dan falls to the side a little more than necessary, and when he straightens up, paints Phil’s blush with his own ice cream-smothered spoon. “There. Eat that.”

“You do it.”

Eyebrows quirk up. Dan tips towards him without hesitation and drags his tongue over Phil’s skin, licking up the cream. Phil gags and scrubs his cheek, his nose crinkling in mock-disgust. “Urgh. You’re horrible. That was hardly sexual.”

Dan pouts. “Is my tongue no longer appealing?”

“Not when you get your saliva all over my face.”

“I’m disappointed in you.” Dan scoops at his gelato, watching his partner carefully. There’s a glint leftover in his eyes. Phil definitely loved it. Dan looks away to hide a smile, rubbing Phil’s foot with his own.

There is a silence. It takes a long, soothing breath, settles around them like a blanket. Dan focuses on the ocean before them. It’s a vast and glossy thing that oddly comforts him. There’s something about the enormity of it, knowing he’s so far away from the responsibilities and hassle of their London life, that puts him at ease.

“We should do this more often.”

“Do what? Lick each other’s faces?”

“No, idiot. Go on holiday. It’s…nice.” Dan’s voice grows soft. “Just being here with you, that’s nice. And – I can hold your hand when we’re in public and stuff, without worrying who’s gonna see and question us or…or expose us online. Of course it’s great hanging with Bryony and Wirrow, but. We never get enough time like this, you know? Time alone, I mean.”

Phil had reached up and brushed his fingers through Dan’s matted curls while he was talking. Now his fingertips land on his jaw, and Dan turns his head. He watches the smaller sea swirling in Phil’s eyes.

“Yeah, I know,” Phil whispers. Their ice cream is a distant memory. “What if we went to Japan again? I can propose under the cherry blossoms.”

“If you do that, I’ll actually say no simply because it’s too cheesy.”

“Rude.”

Phil kisses him then – delicate, a reassurance. He tugs on his bottom lip, leaves a taste of lime and pistachio behind. Dan chases the kiss, hands landing on Phil’s arm and neck, then face, cupping his cheeks, their mouths coalescing. The water ripples around their legs. Something painfully fond fills Dan’s chest. When he pulls back, a thumb brushing over Phil’s cheekbone, he – and it’s stupid, it’s so stupid – he suddenly wants to cry.

*

The four of them go snorkelling in the bay. Fish are abundant in all sizes and colours, and Phil confirms this by calling out, “Guys, come look at this!” whenever he lays eyes on one.

Wirrow is mildly interested. Bryony pretends to go deaf. Dan humours him for about the first four. Then shoves his face underwater and keeps it there, preferring to quietly observe the sea life going about their day. His skin feels slick from all the sun cream Phil lathered on him, going on about UV rays despite his own ghostly exterior.

Afterward, while removing their snorkels and diving fins, Phil crosses his arms like a five-year-old and whines about being snubbed.

“We loved your fish, dear,” Dan sighs, eyes soft. “But they weren’t all that remarkable.”

He leaves a kiss on Phil’s cheek as he stands.

It’s ridiculous, how easy it is.

*

By 7 pm, the sun shies away behind the horizon. The ocean purples. They end up at a bar called the Chrysós Brewery; it has a roofless balcony overlooking the cove, and tall torches are scattered between mingling patrons. Bryony and Wirrow disappear quite suspiciously, probably wanting Dan and Phil to have the evening to themselves.

They make the most of it. A petite table for two near the glass balustrades is pinched, and they order the most zany-sounding cocktails on the menu. When the waitress hands over their drinks, Dan studies his warily. It’s blood red, with an odd-looking bunch of fruit and lavender petals sprinkled over the foam.

“Maybe you should drink it instead of having a staring contest with it,” Phil teases after a minute. He takes a sip of his own cocktail, transparent turquoise and decorated with strawberries.

Dan gives him a withering look. “Alright, McSass. I don’t need your comments, thank you.” He takes a large gulp, and the cocktail explodes against his taste buds and eats away at his tongue. He’s left with wide eyes and a tangy aftertaste that actually…isn’t that bad. “You know, I think I’ll order another,” he says.

*

By nine o’clock they’re near-drunk.

At one point, Dan fumbles for Phil’s hand and hauls him away from the table, swerving to a stop somewhere along the railing. “I can’t believe we’re drunk and it’s only nine o’clock.”

Phil blames it on him. Dan frowns and says they’re in Greece, there’s no rules here. But having downed a variety of bizarre brews and beverages, he doesn’t even trust his own judgement.

“Well, we’re not actually drunk,” Phil points out. “We’re just tipsy, or maybe slightly above, I dunno.”

Dan blows a raspberry when he sighs, winding his arms around Phil’s waist and making his head comfy on Phil’s shoulder. “Whatever. We’re doing this ancient ruins-tour-thing tomorrow, so don’t be hungover.”

“Oh, I’m not that drunk, you bum.”

“I guess time will tell.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Phil pretends to vomit. “We can wait till we get back to the villa for that.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating a party pooper,” Dan grumbles.

“I can’t believe I’m dating a child.”

“We should just agree to split up if that’s how we really feel.”

Phil draws Dan closer and nudges his nose into his neck. “Definitely.”

Live music fills the silence that passes, drifting from a corner of the bar. Unconsciously, they begin to sway. Dan traces his fingers over Phil’s back, and Phil tucks one or two kisses inside Dan’s collarbone.

The moment is blissful. Dan’s brain is a little clouded, and he has to blink away the urge to sleep, but he loves this. He loves slow-dancing with Phil, blind to everyone else in the room. All he can see is the dark-haired man nestled against him, his best friend and assigned ‘grow old with me’ person. And Dan realises that maybe the places he tried to find solace in had never mattered from the beginning.

Then, the inevitable declaration, murmured into the skin just below his ear: “I really, really love you, Phil. Like, so much.”

After that, Phil chuckles, his whole body shifting against Dan’s. Then he shuffles back and takes two dimpled cheeks in his palms and kisses him, drunk and sloppy and smitten. “Love you too, you nong.”

*

“Your heart line’s kind of long and curvy…I think that means you express all your emotions freely. Or is that content with love life? I’m not sure.”

Phil’s voice is soft and matted with sleep, matching the muted light in their villa bedroom. He studies the creases carved into Dan’s left palm with a thoughtful frown, fingers ghosting over the smooth skin. The sheets are still sticky and twisted around their tangled legs. Sweat is stranded in Dan’s hairline. His eyelids flutter closed every now and then but he rebels against the drowsiness, much preferring to stare at the quiet concentration on Phil’s face as his palm is read.

Dan huffs a low laugh through his nose. He can’t tell if this is legitimate or not, no matter what Phil says about his psychic ancestors. But he doesn’t dwell on that for too long. Phil’s right about his love life, at least.

“What about this one?” Dan murmurs, pointing to the groove arching away from his thumb.

Phil traces it gently. “That’s your life line. All about general health and life changes. Yours is quite deep and round, which I think means you have a lot of enthusiasm and stuff.”

“Bullshit.”

“I think that’s actually quite true. You’re sweet and energetic when you’re in a happy mood.”

Dan snorts but hides half his face in his pillow. He won’t voice the embarrassing thought in his head, something to do with the knight of wands. “I hate you.”

Dan can’t remember the time they got back from the bar. He was too busy pulling Phil’s shirt off, crumbling when Phil ran his hands over his bare chest. But now, it’s late, and they need rest. Tomorrow is dedicated to exploration. They still have another three days of Santorini, before it’s home again on a flight to audience expectations and boundaries they know not to cross. But Dan wants to be stuck in this moment forever, love in his chest and Phil’s delicate fingers on his skin, their naked bodies woven together with warmth in the most innocent and most passionate way.

Phil’s lips brush over Dan’s fingertips, bringing his focus back to the palmistry at hand. “Now this is your head line,” Phil murmurs. “Yours is quite straight, which is like, you think realistically. But you also have a little doughnut there and that means…you, um, love food.”

Dan’s laughter is like wind chimes. “That’s the fakest thing I’ve ever heard,” he whinges. “You’re just being stupid now.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re a phoney palm-reader.”

“Hey! These are great services. You should be paying double.”

“Okay, tell me about this one, then.” Dan taps the crease that runs through his heart line.

“Your fate line is broken in two,” Phil observes. “Right. That means one day, some guy is destined to chop you in half and that’s how you die.”

“Fucking shut up.” Cosy giggles burst from Dan’s lips, and he leans closer, bumping their noses together. “I want a refund.”

“Nope. No refunds,” Phil says, linking their fingers. He lifts Dan’s hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, one by one.

“Well, you can expect a strongly-worded review on your website, then.” Dan’s voice takes on a mock-angry tone. “Phil Lester is the worst palm reader I know. He never knows what he’s talking about and his face is too pretty and distracting. Zero stars.”

“What?” Phil laughs softly. His eyes dip down to Dan’s mouth, before meeting his gaze again. His next words squeeze through half-parted lips. “You should be thanking me for my good looks. They’re obviously a bonus.”

Dan tilts his head. “Obviously,” he murmurs, before pressing his mouth deep and tender against Phil’s. He can taste the bite of vodka and lemon, but everything feels saccharine, his own tendrils of drunkenness blurring his thoughts, lulling his heart. Phil squeezes his hand, nibbles gently on his bottom lip, making sure to leave it chapped in the morning. And Dan just breathes him in until he fills his lungs and with every kiss, he says;

You are where I want to be, always.

phanfics

[whimsicaldragonette]

Romancing the Sorcerer’s Stone (Part 17 of 24)

Part 1~ Part 2~  Part 3~ Part 4~ Part 5~ Part 6~ Part 7~ Part 8~ Part 9~ Part 10~ Part 11~ Part 12~ Part 13~ Part 14~ Part 15~ Part 16~ Part 17~ Part 18~ Part 19~ Part 20~ Part 21~ Part 22~ Part 23~ Part 24~

June 2003 — London, England

The owl pecks at the window just as they’re sitting down to eat. Harry jumps up, eagerly anticipating the contents of the missive. And, yes, their international floo request has been approved and Malfoy has arranged their rooms. Everything is in order. Just in time, too, since they’ll be leaving the following morning.

Harry hums to himself all the way to the dinner table. He notices Ginny’s frown as he sinks back into his chair, and pauses. Surely he’s told her? Better to be sure, though.

“We’re leaving for Florence in the morning,” he says as he reaches for the peas. “We’ll be flooing out at nine.”

June 2003 — Florence, Italy

It had been Malfoy’s idea, born of a lot of very intense pacing and plotting that first night, to disguise themselves as journalists. Harry had vetoed the ridiculous fake mustaches, but the cover story had been a stroke of genius. Not that he’s ever going to tell Malfoy that.

They’d gotten nearly everything they needed from eager security guards and museum employees. They’d all seemed perfectly willing to discuss security and restoration methods with anyone who offered the chance to have their name in print.

Not that they’d actually be writing the article, he thought, but that doesn’t matter, really. Just the possibility of seeing their name in the papers had got people talking. It’s not long before they’ve worked out a plan of attack.

Two grown men huddled under the invisibility cloak would have been a hilarious sight — except they’re invisible. Conveniently, Harry thinks. Well, there is an inconvenient amount of hunching over and bumping hands and elbows jabbing ribs, but at least no one can see them.

Not that anyone is there to see them, seeing as it’s the middle of the night, long after the museum had closed for the day. They’d hidden, curled into a cramped nook behind what he thought was a rather hideous statue of a horse made of junk, carefully draped in the invisibility cloak as the last patrons had been herded out, as the employees had turned off the lights and locked the doors, as the security guard had shuffled past on his rounds.

Now, secure in their invisibility, they maneuver themselves to their feet and rub the cramps from their muscles.

It wouldn’t do to be discovered on camera, Harry thinks, stifling a chuckle as he thinks of the fright they would give the security guards, a disembodied hand or foot floating in an empty room.

“Ready?” he whispers, and Malfoy nods, casting another disillusionment over them. Together, they make their way to the main gallery, where the painting they need hangs. Only, it isn’t there. All of the planning and scheming, and it isn’t even there.

They stare, flabbergasted, at the blank frame, and the tiny sign that reads “This painting is currently being restored by Baldicotts to return it to its former glory. We apologize for any inconvenience.”

“Well, fuck me,” Malfoy says, after a moment. “Come on.”

“Er, where—“

Malfoy sighs, grabs Harry’s arm, and apparates them.

They land back in their hotel room, and Harry throws the cloak off. “Malfoy! What the fuck was that all about?”

Malfoy doesn’t answer, just turns toward the bathroom. As he walks through the door he says, over his shoulder, “Because that painting is being restored by Pansy bloody Parkinson, and we can hardly visit her in the middle of the night.”

Harry gapes at the door. Parkinson is restoring the painting?

Parkinson is restoring the painting.

How very… odd, Harry thinks, as she opens the door of Baldicotts: Restorers of Fine Art.

“Oh,” she says, tone thoroughly unimpressed, “it’s you. Tell me, what have I done to warrant this?” She addresses this last to the sky as if the clouds might answer.

“Pansy, you incomparable bitch,” Malfoy drawls, “you grow more beautiful and cruel every day. You wound me, truly.”

She laughs delightedly. “C’mere you,” she says, drawing Malfoy into a hug. She thrusts him to arm’s length and studies him for a moment, kisses his cheeks, and then nods at Harry, sleek black bob swinging.

She looks much as she had in school, only sharper. Like the years have worn off any softness and only hard, brilliant diamond remains.

“You look good darling,” she says, as she gestures them inside. “Life must be agreeing with you lately.”

Malfoy smiles. “As a matter of fact—“

“Not before tea, darling. You know I don’t discuss business without a strong cuppa and a good chocolate.”

“Never change, Pansy dear,” he says fondly. “How else would I know what to get you for Christmas?”

“As to that, Draco, you really must stop sending me green things.” She darts a glance at Harry, and he looks steadily back, confused.

She shrugs, turning back to Malfoy, who looks a tiny bit uncomfortable, but determined to ignore it.

They settle into stylish, yet surprisingly comfortable leather chairs in a small parlor off the main room. She snaps her fingers, and a house elf pops into view. “Mindy, tea for three, please. And some of those chocolates we just got in from Paris.”

Mindy nods and winks out, reappearing quickly with an elegant tea tray.

“So,” Parkinson asks, crossing her legs daintily, “what nefarious scheme has brought you to my place of business today?”

Malfoy leans forward, steepling his fingers. “You’re restoring the Carmichael portrait for Uffizzi’s.

She frowns, tapping her overly-pointed red nails against her cup. “Yes. That’s a statement of fact, not a request.”

Malfoy takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “We need it.”

She raises her eyebrow. “You need what?”

“The painting. It’s cursed you see. Carmichael was a distant relative of my grandmother, and his portrait was cursed back in Grindelwald’s day. We simply can’t allow it to continue making the muggles sick.” He leans forward, warming to his subject.

Both of her eyebrows shoot up, nearly disappearing under her close-cropped bangs.

Harry leans back in his chair and sips his tea, content to watch. Malfoy is a master at manipulation.

Parkinson, it seems, is unmoved by his charm.

“It would be against my ethical code, darling,” she says, sipping her tea calmly.

“Bullshit,” Malfoy says. “You don’t have an ethical code — never have. You forget I know you.”

She lifts a finger to silence him.

“It would be against my ethical code,” she continues implacably, “to do it myself. Which, honestly darling, you don’t want anyway. I may be a whiz at restoring paintings, but I leave the forgery in the much more capable hands of my assistant.”

Harry leans forward now, interested. “Where is this assistant?”

She waves a hand airily. “Who knows. She owled me earlier that she had met up with some old school acquaintances at lunch and was taking the rest of the day off to take them sightseeing.”

“Old school acquaintances?”

“Mmm. You might know them as your wife and fiancée.”

“Oh.” Malfoy looks nonplussed for a moment. “Who is this assistant, then?”

Pansy uncrosses her legs and recrosses them in the other direction. “Not to worry. Luna is the best forger I’ve ever encountered.”

Harry nearly inhales his tea. “I’m sorry, did you say Luna? As in Luna Lovegood?”

Pansy grins toothily. “Like I said. She’s the best.”

She pauses.

“Now, we come to the question of payment.”

“We can give you—“

She waves him off as if she were swatting a fly. “I don’t want your money, Draco.”

He frowns. “Then, what do you want?”

She considers for a moment, tapping idly at the side of her cup, and chewing the side of her lip, in what Harry assumes is a very un-Pansy-like way. Then she uncrosses her legs and leans forward like she’s about to tell them a secret.

“I want an invite to one of your dinners at the Burrow.”

Malfoy does choke on his tea. “You want — but— good god, woman. Why?” he splutters.

“Hey,” Harry says, shoving him good-naturedly. “That’s my family you’re knocking.”

“I know, but—“

“Malfoy,” Harry says, a note of warning in his voice to temper the humor. “You like those dinners.”

“Yes, but—“

Harry’s eyes narrow, and he looks past Malfoy to Parkinson’s amused face. “But, why do you want to be invited, is the question. What’s your game, Parkinson?”

She laughs lightly. “No game. Well, not entirely, anyway. I just want an in.”

“An in…” Malfoy’s eyes widen in horror. “Pansy, no.”

She quirks an eyebrow at him. “Pansy yes.”

He sighs heavily. “Which one? Which horrible ginger Weasley do you have your eye on this time, wench?”

She rolls her eyes and pats him on the head. “If you must know, it’s George.”

Malfoy stares, horrified. “No! Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes? Why on earth would you—“

“Have you looked at him lately, darling?” Pansy interrupts. “He’s definitely eye-candy now. And I find I enjoy his company. I just want a chance to get to know him better, that’s all. Surely you can afford that.”

Malfoy grumbles to himself, but Harry interrupts him by placing a quelling hand on his knee.

“I’m not entirely sure this is a good idea, mind, but if any of the Weasleys can handle you, it would be George. The next dinner is this coming Sunday. Can you make it?”

She grins. “Wouldn’t miss it.” She rubs her hands together, her manner entirely businesslike once more. “When do you need your painting?”

“As soon as possible,” Harry says. Malfoy still looks like he’s having trouble forming words.

She nods. “It will take a few weeks for Luna to complete the reproduction. We’ll need to restore the real painting first and then copy it. I’ll owl you when it’s ready.”

“If you’re going to be attending Weasley dinners, you may as well just tell me in person.”

“Hmm. True. Now,” she says, rising from her chair and ushering them out of her office, “I’m afraid I have to get back to work.”

She leads them back to the door, heels clicking smartly against the black and white tile floor.

It’s a lovely suite of offices, now Harry is paying attention. Elegant and refined, with the touch of whimsy that could only have come from Luna.

Luna and Parkinson. Now there is a match made in a special kind of hell. Harry shakes his head, hoping he knows what he’s doing, but he’s fairly certain George will be able to handle her.

Part 1~ Part 2~  Part 3~ Part 4~ Part 5~ Part 6~ Part 7~ Part 8~ Part 9~ Part 10~ Part 11~ Part 12~ Part 13~ Part 14~ Part 15~ Part 16~ Part 17~ Part 18~ Part 19~ Part 20~ Part 21~ Part 22~ Part 23~ Part 24~

You can also read, comment, etc on AO3, FF, or Wattpad

[workingclassdan]

All albums I listened to in 2017

1. David Bowie - No Plan (ep) 2. Ryan Adams - Prisoner 3. Gone is Gone - Echolocation * 4. The xx - I See You 5. The Flaming Lips - Oczy Mldy 6. Cloud Nothings - Life Without Sound 7. Japandroids - Near to the Wild Heart of Life 8. Foxygen - Hang 9. Ty Segall - Ty Segall 10. Camp Cope / Cayetana - Split EP 11. Cuddle Magic - Ashes/Axis 12. Hand Habits - Wildly Idle 13. Son Volt - Notes of Blue 14. Sun Kil Moon - Common as Light… (notable for shitness) 15. PVT - New Spirit 16. Steve Vai - Modern Primitive 17. Dirty Projectors - ST   (little bubble) 18. Middle Kids - EP 19. Father John Misty - Pure Comedy 20. The Waifs - Ironbark 21. Bruce Springsteen - (Odds & Rarities) 22. Thundercat - Drunk 23. Animal Collective - The Painters EP  (kinda bonkers) 24. Los Campesinos - Sick Scenes 25. Grandaddy - Last Place  (lost machine) 26. Methyl Ethel - Everything is Forgotten 27. Kingswood - After Hours, Close to Dawn 28. Holy Holy - Paint 29. Vagabon - Infinite Worlds 30. Spoon - Hot Thoughts  (do i have to talk you into it 31. Brian Eno - Reflection 32. The Shins - Heartworms 33. Laura Marling - Semper Femina * 34. Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever - The French Press EP * 35. Temples - Volcano 36. Roy Buchanan - Telemaster Live in 75 37. Real Estate - In Mind 38. Depeche Mode - Spirit * 39. Mastodon - Emperor of Sand * 40. Drake - More Life  (Passionfruit) 41. Ben Wright Smith - The Great Divorce 42. Sleepmakeswaves- Made of Breath Only - (hailstones) 43. Aimee Mann - Mental Illness 44. Jesus and Mary Chain - Damage and Joy 45. Steel Panther - Lower the Bar 46. Evyltyde - Rising 47. Spiral Stairs - Doris and the Daggers 48. Julia Holter - In the Same Room * 49. Boss Hog - Brood X 50. British Sea Power - Let the Dancers Inherit the Party 51. Anjou - Epithymia 52. The Melker Project Remix 53. New Pornographers - Whiteout Conditions 54. Future Islands - The Far Field 55. Craig Finn - We All Want the Same Thing 56. Smith Street Band - More Scared of You Than You Are of Me 57. Cold War Kids - La Divine 58. Clark - Death Peak 59. The Black Angels - Death Song 60. Arca - Arca 61. Luke Howard - ? 62. Kendrick Lamar - DAMN. 63. Prince - ep 64. Incubus - 8 65. Amy Shark - Night Thinker ep 66. Mew - Visuals 67. Gorillaz - Humanz 68. Ryan Adams (b-sides) - 69. Tim Rogers - An Actor Repairs * 70. Feist - Pleasure 71. Bill Baird - Easy Machines 72. Bill Baird - Baby Blue Abyss 73. Thurston Moore - Rock n Roll Conciousness 74. Colin Stetson - All This I Do For Glory 75. Bob Dylan - Triplicate 76. Pond - The Weather 77. Alice Coltrane - The Ecstatic Music of Alice Coltrane 78. San Cisco - The Water 79. Doug Tuttle - Peace Potato 80. Big Walnuts Yonder 81. Perfume Genius - No Shape 82. Penguin Cafe - 83. Mac Demarco 84. Afghan Whigs - In Spades 85. At the Drive-In - interalia 86. Slowdive - Slowdive - falling ashes 87. Dead Letter Circus - The Endless Mile - Lines 88. Nick Murphy - Missing Link ep 89. Bob’s Burgers - s/t 90. Fleet Foxes - The Crack-Up 91. BNQT - Volume 1 92. Do Make Say Think - Stubborn Persistent Illusions 93. The Beatles - Sgt Pepper's 94. Dan Auerbach - Waiting on a Song 95. Ben Ottewell - A Man Apart 96. Bernard Fanning - Brutal Dawn 97. Roger Waters - Is This the Life We Really Want 98. Underground Lovers - Staring at You Staring At Me 99. Elder - Reflections of a Floating World 100. Half Waif - form/a ep 101. The Kills - Echo Home non-electric ep 102. Bleachers - Gone Now 103. Amber Coffman - City of No Reply 104. Marika Hackman - I’m Not Your Man * 105. Husky - Punchbuzz 106. U2 - (some bootleg of latest tour) 107. Alt-J - Relaxer  (3WW) 108. Beach Fossils - Somersault 109. Mount Eerie - A Crow Looked at Me 110. London Grammar - Truth is a Beautiful Thing 111. Lindsay Buckingham/Christine McVie - 112. Phoenix - Ti Amo 113. Sufjan Stevens, Bryce Dessner, Nico Muhly, James McAlister - Planetarium 114. Big Thief - Capacity Mythological Beauty 115. Kirin J Callinan - Bravado 116. The Magpie Salute - The Magpie Salute (Live) 117. Portugal. The Man - Woodstock 118. Lorde - Melodrama * 119. Royal Blood - How Did We Get So Dark? 120. Ride - Weather Diaries 121. Cigarettes After Sex - s/t 122. King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard - Flying Microtonal Banana 123. Jeff Tweedy - Together at Last 124. Tara Jane O’Neil - s/t 125. Baby Driver soundtrack 126. UNKLE - The Road pt1 127. Silicon Valley soundtrack 128. Haim - Something to Tell You 129. Broken Social Scene - Hug of Thunder 130. Jay-Z - 4:44 131. Tex, Don & Charlie - You Don’t Know Lonely 132. Oh Wonder - Ultralife 133. Radiohead - OKNOTOK 134. Waxahatchee - Out in the Storm 135. U2 (live Vancouver) 136. Japanese Breakfast - Soft Sounds from Another Planet 137. DJ Shadow - The Mountain Will Fall 138. Vera Blue - Perennial 139. Lana Del Rey - Lust for Life 140. Nine Inch Nails - Add Violence ep * 141. Singles soundtrack deluxe 142. Arcade Fire - Everything Now 143. Boris - Dear 144. Perera Elsewhere - All of This 145. Manchester Orchestra - A Black Mile to the Surface 146. The Murlocs - Old Locomotive 147. Dan Sultan - Killer  (fire under foot, kingdom) 148. Fountaineer - Greater City, Greater Love 149. Benjamin Gibbard - Bandwagonesque 150. Juanita Stein - America 151. Saskwatch - Manual Override 152. Kid Koala with Emiliana Torrini - Music to Draw To: Satellite 153. David Rawlings - Poor David’s Almanac 154. Damian Cowell's Disco Machine - Get Yer Dag On! 155. Jen cloher - s/t 156. Queens of the Stone Age - Villains * 157. Paul Kelly - Life is Fine I smell trouble 158. Davey Lane - I’m Gonna Burn Out Bright 159. Mogwai - Every Country’s Sun 160. Alvvays - Antisocialites 161. Ben Frost - The Centre Cannot Hold 162. Grizzly Bear - Painted Ruins 163. Iron and Wine - Beast Epic call it dreaming 164. Gang of Youths - Go Farther in Lightness 165. Gold Class - Drum 166. King Gizzard and Mild High Club - Sketches of Brunswick East 167. Steven Wilson - To the Bone 168. The Preatures - Girlhood 169. Filthy Friends - Invitation 170. The War on Drugs - A Deeper Understanding 171. Chris Forsyth and the Solar Motel - Dreaming in the Non-Dream 172. LCD Soundsystem - American Dream 173. Cloud Control - Zone rainbow city 174. Liars - TFCF 175. Neil Finn - Out of Silence 176. Deerhoof - Mountain Moves 177. Jake Bugg - hearts That Strain 178. Gordi - Reservoir 179. Meg Mac - Low Blows 180. The National - Sleep Well Beast 181. Beaches - Second of Spring 182. Chad Vangaalen - Light Information 183. Nothing But Thieves - 184. Foo Fighters - Concrete and Gold 185. Tori Amos - Native Invader 186. The Belligerents - Science Fiction (Sorry to Say) 187. Rostam - Half-Light 188. Hope Sandoval and the Warm Inventions - Until the Hunter 189. Ariel Pink - Dedicated to Bobby Jameson 190. Davey Lane - Back/Here/Forward 191. Lisa Mitchell - When they Play That Song ep 192. Tired Lion - Dumb Days 193. Mastodon - Cold Dark Place ep 194. Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Luciferian Towers 195. Lee Ronaldo - Electric Trim 196. Neil Young - Hitchhiker 197. The Killers - Wonderful Wonderful 198. Hyla - Osaka 199. Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross - The Vietnam War 200. Moses Sumney - Aromanticism 201. British India - Forgetting the Future 202. Matt Cameron - Cavedweller 203. Hammock - Mysterium 204. Ben Frost - Threshold of Faith 205. Philip Selway - Let Me Go 206. Prophets of Rage - s/t 207. Phoebe Bridgers - Starnger in the Alps 208. Pearl Jam - Let’s Play Two 209. Wolf Alice - Visions of a Life 210. Torres - Three Futures 211. Ibeyi - Ash 212. Wolf Parade - Cry Cry Cry 213. Liam Gallagher - As You Were 214. Andrew Bird - Echolocations: River 215. Bladerunner 2049 soundtrack 216. The Horrors - V 217. St Vincent - Masseduction 218. Kurt Vile & Courtney Barnett - A Lotta Sea Lice 219. Beck - Colors 220. Robert Plant - Carry Fire 221. Alex Lahey - I Love You Like a Brother 222. Destroyer - Ken. 223. William Patrick Corgan - wpc 224. Custard - The Common Touch 225. Love Migrate - Somewhere, Over the Mangroves 226. Protomartyr - Relatives in Descent 227. Polish Club - Alright Already 228. Ecca Vandal - s/t 229. Grooms - Infinity Caller 230. Lean Year - s/t 231. Kevin Devine - Instigator 232. King Krule - The Ooz 233. Portico Quartet - Art in the Age of Automation 234. Weezer - Pacific Daydream 235. Hans Zimmer et al (Blue Planet ll soundtrack) 236. Fever Ray - Plunge 237. Julien Baker - Turn Out the Lights 238. Jim Lawrie - Slacker of the Year 239. REM - Automatic for the People (25th Anniversary) 240. Angel Olsen - Phases 241. Stranger Things 2 (Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein) 242. Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats - Live at Red Rocks 243. Tame Impala - Currents (deluxe) 244. King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard - Polygondwanaland 245. Sharon Jones - Soul of a Woman 246. Bjork - Utopia * 247. Aldous Harding - Party 248. David Gilmour - Live at Pompeii 249. Queen - News of the World (deluxe) 250. Stella Donnelly - Thrush Metal ep 251. U2 - Songs of Experience 252. Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds - Who Built the Moon? 253. Taylor Swift - Reputation 254. Kamasi Washington - Harmony of Difference 255. Wand - Plum 256. Weaves - Wide Open 257. Mavis Staples - If All I Was Was Black 258. Neil Young and Promise of the Real - The Visitor 259. Pony Face - Deja Vu 260. The Orbweavers - Deep Leads

Stray tracks: Hans Zimmer & Radiohead Lisa Hannigan - Oh! You Pretty Things Jarvis Cocker & Chilli Gonzalez Jack Whiter Glen Hansard (2) John Butler Trio Ryan Adams - back in your head Brian Eno & Kevin Shields Tropical Fuck Storm (2)

2016 catchups:

Ryley Walker & Charles Rumback Alex Isenberg Lisa Hannigan Margaret Glaspy Catfish and the Bottlemen Badbadnotgood 1 Mile North Chris Forsyth Peep Tempel Tash Sultana Rogue Wave Damien Jurado Love Migrate - Luke Howard Kaleo

[thestrangerproject2014]

June 27, 2017 - Jackie, New York City

I’m in New York for a few weeks, thanks to the incredible generosity and thoughtfulness of two dear friends that live here.

I'm writing this while sitting in the main reading room of the New York Public library. It is a sanctuary of gilded beauty. It has ornate, detailed carving which covers the vaulted ceiling. Fluffy pink, renaissance-like clouds adorn the centre panels. Glorious streams of sunshine pour in through giant arched windows.

The large, concert-hall sized room, is surrounded by reference books, with a small, wrought iron balcony adding more books to the room. There are dozens of long tables, with intricately carved bases. Four brass lamps adorn each table. The air-conditioning is a life saver! There are a few hundred people in here, and yet, the silence is sublime.  

It’s my fourth time being in the city, and I admit it, I LOVE New York! There is an energy here unlike any other city I’ve been to.

Three weeks is the longest I’ve spent in New York. There’s a certain luxury in that duration in so far as, I’m able to be more leisurely about doing things. There is no rush.

"Intentional meandering" I call it - it's something I'm working on; more about that another time.

I even spent most of yesterday hanging out at my friend's place, and not going anywhere, or doing anything, for most of the day. After an intense, action packed first five days, it was grand to spend the day at (their) home and relax.

A couple of things I’d like to boast about at this point. I must look like a New Yorker. Once again, while out for a walk on my own last night, I was stopped by someone and asked for directions. It’s happened twice before on previous trips here.

Each time, I’m proud to say I knew the answer, and happily pointed out directions to get ‘tourists’ to their destination.

Another thing I noticed just today. There are of course, copious amounts of people working in the tourism industry here. On any given street corner, people are handing out flyers for bus tours, restaurants, sight-seeing trips, ride-to-the-roof-of-this-building excursions, add infinity.

Almost none of them stop me. I either look like a local, or a completely unapproachable ass. Either one works for me!

This weekend was the 48th annual New York Pride March. I had the incredibly good fortune to participate in the march, riding on a float with my friend’s employer.

Truly, a stand alone life event, that I will never forget.

37,000 people in the march, and another TWO MILLION spectators.

An energy like I’ve not experienced before.

I was here in New York during Pride in 2012, two days after equal marriage came into law, throughout NY State!

Another stand alone moment in time.

On Sunday, there was an even more powerful sense of connection with spectators, as we travelled along.  Some spectators stood ten deep at points.

There was a palpable sense of jubilant camaraderie and celebration. Defiance. Definitely resistance and persistance. I've been marching for over 35 years. The love was everywhere. Strangers waving, singing, dancing and blowing kisses.

Certain intersections had pairs of large dump trucks blocking them off.

Some streets were barricaded with pairs of garbage trucks.

Everything is impacted by the current political climate.

I didn’t take any of that for granted. Nor will I - I shall march as long as I can, and hope one day, we won’t have to. Alas, there is still much work to be done.

I had thought about perhaps utilizing some of my ‘luxury’ time, to go out and meet a stranger. I hadn’t really planned on it happening today, and in meeting Jackie, it just seemed natural.

Strolling down Fifth Avenue, I was first drawn to Jackie's vintage film camera. I’m a hobby photographer and have, over the years had the distinct pleasure of using some quality older cameras.

A friend once had a Hasselblad camera. It's a large format camera that makes the most delicious clunk-click sound with each shutter release. My first real sense of geekdom. Clunk-click. Ahhh.

Jackie was filming outside a specific 'tower' on Fifth Avenue. One  that I wouldn’t have wanted to stop in front of, let alone photograph. Okay, I did take one or two shots, which I intend to alter.

But her camera made me want to ask questions, even though I know very little about the technical aspects.

If you’ve been following this project for any time, you’ll know I speak of self-imposed rules. You'll also know, on occasion, I liberate myself from my own constraints.

I break the rules because I can.

Today, I gave myself permission to not be so intent on getting a full life story. It was about connecting with a stranger.

While I didn’t go into the whole backstory of The Stranger Project - est. 2014, I explained the idea. I asked Jackie if it would be alright to ask a few questions, and to take Jackie’s photo, which I would post here. She readily agreed, while continuing to work.

“I’m an only child,” Jackie told me. Of all my ice-breaker, conversation starting questions, this is one of my personal favourites. I'm fascinated by the difference between people who grew up as an only child, compared to those who had siblings.

“No, I don’t feel that I missed out on anything as an only child. However, ironically, I have a nine-year-old son, and he desperately wants to have siblings,” she said.

“I guess it’s because he sees his friends with brothers and sisters. Alas, that ship has sailed.” We both chuckled at that.

As a film maker, Jackie is still using old school film. Each canister of film lasts two and a half minutes, and costs around $25USD to develop, when she’s working with colour film.

Just thinking of the gamble and cost would be prohibitive to me. In our 'new-age' need for instant gratification, the wait and uncertainty would be an exercise in patience and willingness. To wait, and then discover the work isn't what one hoped for. This could be a grand discovery, or a resolute sense of failure. I’m projecting my own perspectives here.  

It was no surprise to me when I asked Jackie what she does.

“I teach this,” she says, pointing to her camera.

“I teach film-making,” she said. Jackie is from New Hampshire, in the north-eastern United States.

I found out that Jackie is a professor of film and electronic arts. A faculty member at Bard College, founded in 1860, a college of the liberal arts and sciences. Of course, she teaches film making.

I asked if I would know of her work. “The one piece I’m most proud of,” she said, “is a film I made called ‘The Observers’.

It's about one of the world’s last staffed weather observatories, at Mount Washington, in New Hampshire.”

Currently, Jackie is working on a film about the 45th US President’s vast property holdings. I loved that throughout the conversation, not once did we use ‘that' name.

While chatting, as I mentioned, Jackie continued to work, and as happens, I managed to throw her off, or so I felt at least. 
She had opened the camera to remove the reel she had been filming when I approached her. The camera needed a new film reel. Dropping the box out of her hand into her bag amongst other film boxes, which all looked the same to me. She placed a new film in the camera and wound it into it's sprocket.

“I don’t know which film canister I just used. Hmmm. I think it was this one. Or was it this one?” she asked of herself. I knew it was time to let her get back to focusing on her task at hand. Filming people coming in and out of the large tower we were chatting in front of.

“It was nice chatting. Thanks so very much, for letting me ask questions and take your photo. I hope you’ll look for the story,” I said as we shook hands.

“It was fun,” she said. “And now you’ve met a stranger in New York!” #notastranger

*I’m thrilled to share the link to enjoy the film ‘The Observers’ for free, online! https://vimeo.com/75149038

[chasingforeverandaday]

Stop the World & Melt with You: Chapter Six

Hey look! It's done! Yay! Sorry this took for-freaking-ever to get out, but I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you to everyone who has put up with this rollercoaster, you guys rock!

I apologize for the long absence of updates, but finals season sucks, so will be so glad when that's over next Thursday (for me at least). I then have three weeks before summer classes start up, so hopefully I'll have an update of don't trust the devil inside set to go soon. I also may decide to ignore studying for Business Law again, and it might pop up later this week.

Chapter Summary: Date night going off without a hitch seems a bit too good to be true...

Also on AO3

Lenore was at the office, leaning back in her chair with her feet up on the clean part of her desk, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. It was Friday afternoon, and she did not give a shit what anyone thought of her behavior. She had a date tonight.

“So, the plan is dinner at your place at seven, right?”

“The plans haven’t changed in the past two minutes Lenore.”

“Oh hush you. I swear I’m not purposefully being neurotic, I just want tonight to go perfectly.” Sighing, Lenore’s anxiety over the evening bubbled up again, leading her to sheepishly rush through the next question. “And we’re having?”

“We’re getting takeout from Mia Z’s, as previously agreed upon.”

“Sounds perfect, I don’t think we need the entirety of the New York Fire Department crashing a date, our friends seem do that enough all on their own. And remember-”

HG cut her off, rattling off Lenore’s favorite order by memory. “‘Fettuccine alfredo with grilled chicken and all the extra garlic, with a side salad and fresh breadsticks.’ Did I miss anything? I promise I am completely capable of planning a proper date Lenore, scout’s honor.” He paused, the rest of her comment coming back to him, before continuing indignantly, “And I am not that bad of a cook!”

“Please, you know you love the garlic. Whatever you end up with is also going to have a shit ton of garlic in it, we’re having Italian, it’s kind of a given. Hate to break it to you my dear Professor, but you got kicked out of the Boy Scouts. I do believe it was for setting three tents on fire, if I’m recollecting that lovely story correctly- ”

“-it’s not like there was anything in any of them! We had barely begun to set up camp!”

“You were twelve!”

“So? I’ve always been advanced for my age!”

“Okay, discontinuing that train of thought, you are so completely and utterly that bad of a cook. Baking, I will totally agree, you bake amazingly well. There is a reason you’re always in charge of dessert. But cooking? Nope, you suck at cooking.”

“Balderdash, cooking is incredibly difficult! Baking is easy, all you have to do is follow the directions and stick everything in the oven. One has to pay far more attention when cooking and make adjustments on the fly and I become distracted much too easily and then we end up with a mushy ball of spaghetti.”

“Relax, babe. I’m just teasing. I know enough to make sure we’d survive if all the takeout joints in the city suffered an untimely end, I promise.” Smiling softly to herself, she was about to keep poking at her boyfriend’s culinary ineptitude when her phone started to vibrate again. Pulling it away from her ear, Lenore glanced down at the caller ID. “Hang on, our favorite drama king is calling on the other line, I should probably grab that.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tonight, I love you.”

“Love you too Goggles. Okay, now I gotta go. Later gator!” Mentally floating on cloud nine, she hung up, switching over to the call from Oscar. Before she could even say hi, he started rambling.

“Lenore! Why on earth were you taking so long to answer your bloody phone? Nevermind, more important gossip is at stake. Did you hear about what just happened with Charlotte and Anton? Apparently, they were dating! Even though she was totally riding solo at the party for New Years! And making eyes at Ernest, which is just ick, I mean hello, it’s Ernest, I wouldn’t date him if you paid me. Not that Lottie dearest such a bloody prize herself! Plus, didn’t she used to have a thing for- oh nevermind, not important right now! Where was I? Oh, right, anyways, now she and Anton broke up! And she’s being cross with me, well, more of an uptight bitch with me than normal, in any case. Do you think that means he wants to hook up with me again? I mean, I know it was just a few times and it was months ago, but she’s acting so pissed at me, that has to be it, right?” Finally stopping for breath, Oscar sucked in a deep gasp of air, relieving his poor overworked lungs.

Rolling her eyes, Lenore adopted an overly perky tone and chirped obnoxiously, “Hello, Oscar, how are you? Oh I’m feeling fabulous, thanks so much for asking. Charlotte and Anton were secretly dating and then they broke up? Gasp, so scandalous!” For full effect, even if he couldn’t see her, she mockingly swooned back in her chair, hand to her forehead.

“You’re hilarious Lenore, truly hysterical. Now, I need your help,” he pronounced. Quite seriously, Oscar pondered, “Do you think ‘frenemies before men in my sheets’ would be an applicable motto here?”

Snorting loudly, she responded, “Babes, not actually a saying.”

“I don’t care in the least, it’s appropriate.” Oh good Lord, he actually sounded offended.

“You’re never appropriate.”

“True, oh well. We need to get dinner tonight, I must call a strategy meeting to determine if I’m allowed to go after that scrumptious hunk of man.”

Bolting upright, she braced herself for a long argument. “I can’t tonight Oscar. I have plans already.”

“What?”

“Plans, I have them.”

“Well cancel them, we need to have a council of war.”

“I am not canceling my date with HG again!”

“But-”

“Nope. Not happening. We are going on this date if I have to stick the rest of you in a padded cell for the duration of it.”

“Mean. Charlotte would murder me in minutes and I doubt you want to put your brother and Ernest together in a confined space, especially with Annabel.”

“The rest of you can buffer. And besides, Edgar has been surprisingly sedate in his celebrations after the breakup. I’ve only caught him dancing in the kitchen like twice. This week.” Thinking about it, Lenore added, “I’d honestly be more worried about him decking Ernest if he propositions her again. I do not need to deal with the hospital paperwork if he breaks his hand. Not that she can’t deal with the idiot on her own, but Edgar is feeling euphoric and white knight-like right now.”

“This is all hypothetical you know. You can’t actually lock all of your friends away just so you can get some.”

“Exactly, it’s all hypothetical so I have plausible deniability. Plus, I’ll have a foolproof alibi as of seven. Besides, this is not about getting some!” Realizing how loud she’d gotten, Lenore lowered her voice and tersely whispered, “Okay, not just about getting some, because trust me, that needs to happen too.”

Her friend burst into laughter over the phone, which was not helping his case, at all.

“Screw you, Oscar, I want to fucking jump my boyfriend alright, so fuck you. No, this is about the fact that HG and I haven’t been able to be alone for more than like half an hour without getting interrupted! I mean, seriously, we’re cursed! We haven’t had a complete date yet. And all of you suck, because our friends are like half the problem.”

“Calm your tits, Poe, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I though? Am I really? I needed to have surgery, nobody that we know is capable of knocking, the fucking computers broke, Annabel and Eddie broke up, and we made out in your closet. None of these things equal a date! Hell, none of those things even equal third base!” Chest heaving, Lenore realized she was way too worked up to get anything else done for the day. “Damnit, okay, I need to leave before I bite anyone’s head off.” Beginning her end of the day routine, she listened as Oscar spoke in his patented dial down the wonko voice, officially coined as such by Mary Anne during an extended episode of writer’s block.

“Okay, I have basically no idea what any of that means, because you’re acting more than a bit bonkers. And please don’t tell me you’ve decapitated anyone today, because I’m assuming life in the Big House puts a damper on the hotly anticipated sexy times with the boytoy.” Oscar rolled the last words, laced with so much innuendo that Lenore tripped and banged her head against the wall. Swearing at herself, she could just hear her friend’s trilling laugh before he continued.

“Just go and enjoy your date, I’ll keep the masses from descending, barring an actual emergency, in which case, you can bet your ass I’m calling you. There is no way in hell I’m dealing with one of those without someone else who could possibly be deemed a semi-rational adult.” Which was entirely reasonable, because the frequency at which their friends ended up in the hospital or overnight lock-up was borderline terrifying to think about.

“How exactly are you planning on doing so?”

She could see his habitual generous hand-waving in her head. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it. Feel free to primp and pamper as needed, as I’m sure in my utter brilliance I can come up with some way to distract them for the whole night. As payment for such a wonderful good deed, I expect full details tomorrow at our strategy meeting, darling. Hmm, maybe we can do brunch.”

Finally realizing he was entirely serious about herding the cats, a grin broke out over Lenore’s face as she rushed to the elevator. “I’m going to hug you tomorrow, so freaking hard. Thanks Oscar, really. Thank you.”

“Oh quit gushing, you’ve stroked my ego enough. Now, I’d say let’s grab breakfast, but tomorrow’s Saturday, and I highly doubt you’ll be up anytime before eleven, so brunch seems necessary.” The wiggling eyebrows were practically audible through the phone. “And you are giving me all of the details. I’m in a dry spell here.”

By now, she was tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for the ground level button to light up. The easy banter was pleasantly distracting, but damn if she didn’t want to fast-forward a few hours. “And that guy you were hooking up with last week at the party was all a figment of my imagination?” That didn’t mean she couldn’t get Oscar back for all the earlier teasing.

Sniffing, Oscar corrected her haughtily,“A romantic dry spell bitch. I am having exactly as much sex as I want to be having, thank you very much. It’s the sappy romance part that’s lacking.”

Smirking, she cooed, “Aww, hook-up prince Oscar wants to be romanced.”

“You know I can invent all sorts of ways to crash your date, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Ding . Finally let out of the crushing mob leaving work, Lenore headed for the exit, then stopped short when she saw who was standing just inside the lobby. Switching direction, she grinned widely and cut off Oscar’s retort. “It appears my date has mysteriously arrived early to whisk me away from work, so I’m gonna go. Later Oscar. And thanks for the whole distracting everyone thing.”

Sighing, he replied melodramatically, “Fine, leave me and go be romanced and ravished by your wonderful boyfriend. Don’t forget to be safe and use protection!”

“I’m hanging up now!”

“Remember, all the details!”

“Goodbye Oscar!” Laughing, Lenore tossed her phone into her purse before running the last few steps and hurling herself into HG’s waiting arms. Nose buried in his scarf, she felt a sense of contentedness she hadn’t realized she was missing settle in. Glancing up through her eyelashes, Lenore pressed her lips to his cheek, cold from the January chill. “Hi.”

“Hello my dear Lenore.” Warmth pervading his tone, HG tilted her head upwards, kissing her gently once, twice before resting their foreheads together. “Apparently, I have been uttered useless and distracted all day. My assistant basically forced me out of the building, said that they could handle everything until Monday.” Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, he added, “I came straight here.”

“I’m glad you did, Oscar had to talk me off a cliff.” At his questioning glance, she shrugged. “Nothing bad, just want tonight to actually happen. He has agreed to amuse to children for the night, barring extreme circumstances.”

“How thoughtful of him.”

“I owe him brunch and gossip tomorrow.”

“Ah, so not entirely selfless.”

“Well, he wanted to grab dinner and figure out if he could hook up with Charlotte’s-”

Cutting her off, he rumbled, “Lenore, I could not possibly care less right now.” Still locked in his arms, Lenore found herself reeled in again, engaged in a heady, needy kiss. One of his hands grasping her braid, she felt every ounce of love and want poured into it, losing herself to the electrifying sensation and kindling desire that had been simmering for weeks, possibly months. Remembering where they were was difficult when HG seemed hellbound to erase any thought not of him, though Lenore’s remaining shreds of common sense reminded her they were bordering on the lines of inappropriate for public viewing. Determined to keep a level head, she abruptly pulled away, stopping his lips from chasing hers with a finger.

“Okay, hang on.” Undeterred by her attempted stern look, HG lightly kissed the finger still holding his lips back. Rolling her eyes, she removed it and tried not to giggle when he pouted. “Babe, not helping. We need to head back to your apartment, like now. I am not getting arrested for public indecency at work. Now let’s move. We can always call for Mia Z’s later.”

Placing a hand to his chin, he pretended to mull the idea over before holding out his elbow. “A sound plan. Shall we?”

Locking her arm with his, she smiled. “Oh, we shall.”

[marcus-zilliox-poetry-blog]

The Indian Ghosts

all of the white people will be Indians and all of the Indians will be ghosts.  Sherman Alexie

all the pale girls are braid chasers and all the indian boys are dead warriors all the pale girls are white witches and all the indian boys are failed shamans all the pale girls are vegans and all the indian boys are eating hot dogs cold from the package all the pale girls have soft skin all the indian boys have acne like the moon all the pale girls sweeten their tea with honey all the indians boys drink it boiling and black all the pale girls have blonde hair and blue eyes all the indian boys have black hair and black eyes all the pale girls have skin with blue rivers all the indian boys have skin with red rivers all the pale girls have stars in their eyes all the indian boys have upside down stars in their hearts all the pale girls have skies all the indian boys have mountains all the pale girls have green eyes all the indian boys have red eyes all the pale girls live in a trailer by a park the indian boys lived in a park by a trailer and the shades are gray

all the pale girls have heart shaped dots for i's all the indian boys have slashes not dots for i's

all the irony will be rust and all the rust will be skin color

people are more sophisticated when asking me 'what are you' then they used to be more creative in how they lead up to the question I am not offended anymore I sometimes want to know what I am too

rez dog is zer god (I too/want to know/what I am) Sehr gut, Gott Tod

are you "native american" (with two fingers quote sign) or "chicano" (with two fingers quote sign)

um yes

and white too my eye balls and my bones and my teeth and my cancer and my sadness and my darkness

Once upon a time, I survived genocide

born grew flowers died no one sings songs about flower growers

I am a proof of the Pythagorean Theorem A 50 now 47 with a 3 missing and presumed dead

Nine skulls arranged on the corners of three squares with two corners they share

All me, all the time except when I am remembering then I am you

a flashing neon sign that is the past a flashing LED sign of many colors that is the now

I am the sign of the crossed out dreaming of a white christmas

home is just a click away a save, of tipi stains and do not save b/c of blood, stains

these words are lines to hang myself from or on or with

the tip of a burnt stick to scratch the back of your throat and other itches <to scratch backs of throats and other itches>yes <to scratch throat backs and other itches> no

I am here Singing

                                                                   aim                                 the                                                                     wee                            lad                                                                      for                          the                                                                       one                    arm                                                                         See                boy                                                                           and             say                                                                            now          tip                                                                             you      can                                                                              bee   too                                                                               teepee                                                                              to what a                                                                             shot ring of                                                                            pointed in the                                                                           rapidly filling up                                                                            spills of papercuts                                                                         triangle and a square                                                                        met, married, bred, and                                                                       got away from each other                                                                      to never be together forever                                                                     yet they made something that                                                                    lives, a circle incomplete betrays                                                                   at the corner of forgotten and right                                                                  of way is a storm cloud floating sign                                                                 approaching rain to bathe the laughing                                                                child petrichor infused air mesquite then                                                               sage burned smoking as a quiet medicine

once upon a time, we survived genocide once upon a time, we survived murder and incarceration and recidivism to outside life once upon a time, I survived under the bodies under the pile of corpses their gore dripping on my face blood in my eyes gush into mouth fill my nose screaming then choking

my elbow hurts from carrying heavy boxes canning the packages building pyramids for the corporation on pallets to be wrapped by water spiders

(I see a little silohuette of a god) the halo of fog and a late night rain hovers in the light from a passing car beams on the window sill, wet, a dog barks still a porch light welcomes the gloom

grass roots pine shoots all my relations relationships collide in the dark of early morning must stash warm beer in back seat kid upfront the dark side of the moon wafts on winds of open windows money us and them any color you like brain damage eclipse the whistle of toss bottles and cymbal splash of shattering glass on the side of roads and dry rez rocks

dear in the headlights

twenty five years ago there was a volcano sacrifice anything to show for it? only regrets grown on a path not gone what if taken would be same question meaning apparently all you lost was you

how many sores does it take to be a shaman, a leper chancla

I can no longer remember the exact date in June but the loss is a numbness of a scorpion sting still on my finger that just does not seem to ever fade like gravity

the territory torn from under them

we have found majestic we have found cathartic we have found the belligerent in the disease of the pyschotic

disease of the eyes not looking same direction vows celibacy

these are the unnumbered hours ours of sleep ours of awake and all the in-between murmuring acetamenophin martyring empathy numbs the pain

gravel cradled foot in shoe to door in the doors of arcadia across the room a fat lady laughs sonorous knowing up the steps and down the hall vinyl plywood hollow thud floor windowless bedded heartshaped every night after practice, as practice and performance a new song. listen then gravel gravel gravel. curb asphalt grass easement a slip jumping over fence the sharper points of chainlink tips shank the ribs at full dead weight a key in locked door and not home no returns

a ghost commits suicide every night in the basement it lies you said love forever forever ends disimbibed

what are you? I am Pan Am (the past, bankrupt, non-existent) torn from the sky over Lockerbie? No. Snaketown. Buried Under the desert Removed patriarchy A fathers ghost floats to stare at dead face with a dead face carry the blanketed box bury the bashed knee and broke liver did not take the Corvette that killed the wife a year later better you than me? some nights I am smoke

So woeful few memories to mine Coal black life Wilted weed in red earth Pink eye flower and gods eyes Never going back and take off those jeans With holes for knees Better you remain Unholy

Two tarnished warm sienna Sacagawea eyes Shame of cheerleaders and the adoring tribes Lollipops roary taking Tabasco salsa-ing Over jalepeño ribbon laced and bowed Sriracha picot edged pie pan cheer a temple to almost forgetting your red cherry off cigarette tongue and beer lips and red silks slips off your sadness says kill myself if you don't Zoloft uncaring What did I give you oh yeah and angel one little two little too little do little, ndns

My father left us. On his death bed we stayed home. Left him to death. but I carried the coffin you left me and I left you. no right.

I whistle because death is coming four vultures eating a deer killed by a Connecticut road

I dug a hole in the shape of myself with a full headdress when the dirty absent feathers are shoveled under the dirt and crown of worms will fill the space well enough how long will the leperous psoriasis survive? will it contribute to the breakdown of flesh or will it mourn better to be ash then remains

texts on stripes follow skinny tipi pole legs dripping lemon rains on powerful person

broken heart syndrome stress induced cardiomyopathy suffering is traditional

waves of rain squall from eyes and gather a river in the canyons of these passing pangs

a salted watering of weeds and thorns a smattering of jaded bits an overlong stay in the unmade bed

the door never opens only closes wait a little longer exit closed

there eyes beat with stares frown stains face with traces of years

our love is a candle in my darkness a ribbon shirt made of eyedazzler serape --"what will we do without you?" nobody asked I draw with the burnt end of a stick a picture of your tipping point the take away interlude a man whistles while at work another man whistles in thoughtless response held by ghosts of dreams of what cannot and never will be

[annielaskorp]

Word Vomit

she was beaming. okay, not like someone else might be beaming, with a crazy huge stupid smile or whatever, but for anyone that knew annie well, they'd be able to tell that she was really happy. maybe a little bit nervous. she didn't always show her emotions as well as other people did, but it was all apparent in the little things. her hands were pretty fidgety, brows high (but not in like, a condescending way), and the corners of her lips were tipped upward in the slightest of angles. some dweeb might say she looked bashful, but that wasn't it. this was beaming. from what owen said in their text conversation. and, of course, the awesome talk she'd had with lena via cell phone. so when she went to open the door to let lena in, and saw a bra in her hand, as well, she lost a bit of that crazy happy sensation. because embarrassment was still a thing. fuck. "oh shit, man. did owen give you that? i swear to fuck, i don't even remember leaving that at his place." she realized how awkward it was to have someone find your bra in someone else's house. "also like. thank you. so fuckin' much. i know i said that already, but it's important for you to know how much i appreciate this." cause she appreciated getting her controller back. also, having an excuse to have lena come over. not that she needed an excuse to invite her over, she supposed. but still. it was good.

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she hadn't been expecting that. for lena to seem so calm. albeit. happy. cause annie was actually kind of freaking out. she was happy, yeah. but when lena came in closer, her heart started to pound. when she sat on her lap? she was pretty sure it literally sounded like a set of fucking bongos drums slamming a fucking rain dance song. or what the fuck ever thing people played on bongo drums. she'd completely forgotten about the controller. and the bra. because lena was in her lap and close to her face, and that was so much better than playing video games. or wearing a bra. i mean, she was wearing a bra, but she couldn't think about that kind of shit right now. she couldn't think about much of anything. her ears felt hot as fuck, and her eyes were wide. and she was still smiling again. so that was a thing. "hey," she replied, suddenly seriously hoping her breath still smelled like the toothpaste she'd used to brush her teeth with earlier. and not like lemonade. she didn't know how to feel about the arms around her. it was sweet and warm. she took in a shaky breath, then lifted a hand to brush back lena's hair behind her ear. she swallowed, eyes tracing over the frame of lena's face. it was hard not to look at her. she was right there, after all. and she was so fucking beautiful. like. how could she look at anything else? "you. you look really nice. today. i mean. pretty much always."

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her best friend was so close. her best friend and the one she wanted to be more than friends with. the only thing that she could look forward to in a foreseeable future. because they'd talked about the future before. and the silly things they would do together. work at burger king. backpack europe. it was anything more than what annie had ever imagined for herself up to that point. because she so rarely saw any sort of future for herself. it seemed so silly and small for someone as young as they were. but for annie, it kind of meant the fucking world. lena closed the gap between their foreheads, and annie simply closed her eyes. because it was nice. because it was comfortable. because she could focus on something other than how loud her fucking heartbeat felt. she prepared to put her hands against lena's face when she suddenly drew away. and it made her eyes pop open, curious. her brows fell a bit with every bit that lena said. and she could see that this was just as terrifying to say as it was surprising for annie to hear. and in a moment, all she wanted to do was be strong for lena. to be courageous and understanding and compassionate. and all she could say was, "wh... what?" her brain couldn't process nearly as well as her heart had hoped.

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it wasn't like annie could run away from this moment. and she couldn't be her usual, sarcastic, asshole of a self. she couldn't crack a joke and do that to lena, because this was serious. and it was important for her to know. and for some reason, it made her chest feel heavy. like her heart had turned into an anvil and was dropping into her fucking chest. she'd never been particularly great at managing her emotions. and when lena so patiently re-worded her explanation, so as to make sure that annie knew exactly what she meant, she sounded so straightforward. like someone who'd been through the fucking ringer and was just going to accept whatever shit storm was on the other side. and she still didn't know what to say. so, instead, she just wrapped her arms around lena and pulled her close. and the emotions that normally would've bubbled in anger and derision couldn't come out in front of lena right now. her brain didn't know what to do with it, so instead she just started to cry. it wasn't a sob or anything fucking crazy. but there were tears and a couple light hitches from the back of her throat. it made her feel like shit. because it wasn't her fucking place to cry. "the world never gave you a fuckin' break. and it's not fair." it wasn't much, but it was what she could muster. and, of course, she was starting to think of questions now. but it wasn't the time for questions.

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she felt like she was hanging on for dear life for composure in, like, a million different places. so she let it take on a physical form as she was holding lena. maybe not for too long, but hopefully long enough to get the point across. she wasn't going to back down from this challenge. not gonna act like a fucking kid like she usually did. she was young. and probably too young to fully comprehend the full extent of all of this just yet. but now, she was thinking of lena and seeing the immense struggles she'd been through. hell of a lot more than before. annie was like the lowly kid sitting in front of a shiny super human. no, wait. she was the kid sitting before an actual adult. someone who'd had to grow up way too fast. and for some reason, that person liked her. had cast a shower of something bright and shiny and happy onto her life. the life that annie had felt pretty fucking miserable in for some time now. but lena spoke and annie could've died. she could've floated up to cloud fucking nine and closed her eyes and stayed there forever. because that was how she felt. before she even felt lena's lips on her own, she was starting to feel funny. she was light-headed, her brain fuzzy. she was pretty sure her heart had turned into a mushy puddle on the floor. but.. in a good way. she was hot and cold and everything in between. and when she leaned forward, into the kiss, she swore she could feel her wheels lifting off the ground, cause dammit, she felt weightless. her emotions were running amok inside of her, and it was actually pretty fucking great. she didn't even notice when she'd lifted her hands to cup lena's face. nor did she need to think about it when she pulled away from the kiss to plant more across lena's cheeks, nose, chin. a rainfall of pecks because she was overflowing and didn't know how else to show it. "i really, really like you. i said it over text, and i didn't know if it conveyed, and i don't have words for how perfect you are." and she was smiling. teeth blaring, dumbfoundedly happy expression. smiling.

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she'd had crushes on girls in the past, but nothing really compared to this. nothing else in her life was just pure and simple and sweet. things were complicated. and this was a complicated situation. but it was an easy feeling. liking lena came like second nature, and she couldn't even remember when it had started. she didn't think it could ever end. and lena was here. her hand was on annie's, and her face.. it was so warm in contrast to annie's usually chilly hands. her face was flush, but it looked so natural that way. like she was made for a rosy glow and all sorts of fancy fucking comparisons that annie would never be able to fucking come up with. "red looks good on you," her words were followed by an exhale, something between a laugh and a sigh. shit, anything looked good on lena. they'd met in elementary school, and they both looked so different from back then. but lena had been pretty then, just as she was pretty now. she could rock anything she wanted to. even a swarm of blood cells rushing into the face. it actually made her a little sad that lena was trying to hide that face against her shoulder. and when she came out of hiding, her words put the brunette in a bit of a tizzy. that all made perfect sense. she needed time. people needed time, right? that was reasonable. it would've been a lie if she didn't admit to being the slightest bit disappointed, but it was all good. 'cause this was a lot for her. a lot considering what the blonde had just admitted. hell, even without that. at one point, annie had been pretty fucking confused about her feelings for girls, too. damn near fucking traumatized her, actually. "yeah, that's fair. this is a lot. for fuckin' sure," it was what she could muster. no one in their right mind would call annie a star conversationalist. "thanks," she muttered, "for kissing me. and liking it. that's pretty important, too. fuck, i'm not sure what to say. i'm not, like, cassanova or anything." wait, cassanova was the smooth talking guy, right? some old guy? she wanted to stop her fucking brain, 'cause now she was just second guessing herself. and she knew she should probably offer lena a water or lemonade or something, but she also didn't want her to have to move from her lap. or be in any place where she couldn't look at her face. considering she was maybe blatantly staring at this point. "fuck." the curse was exasperated. but a great one. 'cause saying "fuck" could mean any number of things. annie just said it in luei of silence. or an understanding of what she wanted or needed to say.

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half of the time, annie didn't even fucking care about her own well being. if she had, she probably wouldn't eat most of the shit she did, smoke cigarettes, or roll down hills in shopping carts (oops). she wasn't great at showing people that she cared about them, and sometimes did it in ways that were deemed hurtful or flat out fucking rude. she gave people nicknames that were questionable, at best, and even called her dad "dick" from time to time (though, his name was richard; he was kind of asking for that shit to happen). she did some of the dumbest shit for fun, and while it made her feel abso-fucking-lutely alive, she also knew how outlandishly childish she could be. at the same time, annie's view of people was on an entirely different plane than lena's. somehow, lena found the good in people. annie usually just saw the bad. hell, she even bad-mouthed owen just a little while ago via text message. both to lena and to owen. to be fair, he was an asshole. some people were just assholes. didn't mean they were terrible people, right? she'd never actually just had someone that she gave undying love to. sure, she should've been able to say she loved her parents unconditionally, but it wasn't true. she actually kind of hated her mom (sorry, not sorry), and while her dad was okay, he annoyed the piss out of her. yeah, she loved the guy, but he could act like a pile of shit from time to time. and then she had lena. a best friend that she didn't want to poke hard-hitting fun at, didn't want to call stupid names or anything. she was all the shit that annie wasn't. she was loving, forgiving, patient. all the sort of things anyone would want out of a friend. out of.. something more than friends. still, it wasn't even close to the love that someone might have for their kid (or so annie imagined). to dedicate your entire life to someone that you literally had to do everything for? that was way out of her realm of understanding. if anything, annie was a person that needed a lot done for her. it wasn't something she was proud of, actually. their fingers were locked, and it somehow warmed all of annie's body. without even thinking about it, her thumb softly rubbed against the blonde's hand. which was.. so fucking soft. and it was just her hand. seriously, was there any part of lena that wasn't perfect? "screw him?" she exhaled through her nose, a subtle laugh, "i think that was the point." a shitty joke, but at least that was what annie was good at. at that point, she knew that she should stop staring. draw her eyes away from lena's fucking gorgeous face, and try to save face. seem nonchalant and laid back. but she was actually nervous, and that was tough to hide. "me neither," she admitted. after all, lena had come to sit on her lap. not that annie could really sit on lena's. but this whole scene was comfortable. and lena seemed to fit well in that spot. "but i'm really glad it happened." "do you want some lemonade?" she asked, smiling, "I could give you a ride to the kitchen?"

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Other character mentioned belongs to Aless of RP: Abandon Hope