#I thought we all understood this I thought we all had eyeballs
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neosatsuma · 1 year ago
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don't go to reddit don't go there they don't understand the difference between art style and animation quality, bro it's so scary promise me you'll stay safe
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navybrat817 · 3 months ago
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Vanilla Frosting
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Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky takes a call at home and you decide to tease him a bit.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, banter, teasing, dirty thoughts, very slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he worships you.
A/N: I blame these photos as they gave me CEO vibes. And @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer . Again, before our couple has Muffin and Bean. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“I thought you said no calls, Boss.”
Bucky sighed and rolled up his sleeves as he looked toward the kitchen. You stood in the doorway with crossed arms and slow building irritation in your eyes. The sight of you always lightened his mood and made his heart race, but that look wasn't a good sign. Oh, he was in trouble.
Some sort of trouble.
As a CEO, he was always prepared to take the fall when it came to his company. Seeing your kissable mouth set in a grim line though? “It’s Steve’s fault,” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.
“Really, Buck?” Steve’s voice rang out from the laptop speaker.
“Yeah, really,” he snapped. When Steve found a partner like you, he’d get why he bent his will to you over everyone else. Hell, he welcomed Steve getting a bit of payback because it would mean his best friend would have found happiness. “I’m sorry, Cupcake,” he added in a softer tone to you.
He didn’t want to take the call, he really didn’t. All he wanted to do was hold you and forget about the stress of work for an evening. He even assured you that there would be no work tonight, but Steve insisted he get on a video chat with some of the executive team. God knew the punk was relentless, but the unimpressed look on your face made him want to fire everyone and start from scratch.
The two of you had plenty of money, so you’d be set if he went that route.
“Steve’s fault, huh?” You slowly smiled after a moment. “Okay. You take the call and I’ll start making some cupcakes.”
Bucky cocked his head with a confused stare as you went further into the kitchen and out of sight. Baking cupcakes wasn't out of the ordinary for you, but you saying “okay” wasn't okay. He knew better. There was no possible way he was off the hook for this. He already had at least ten gifts in mind to buy you once the call wrapped up.
“I love you,” he called after you, not at all ashamed for anyone to hear that as they joined the meeting. If anyone eyeballed him or said an unkind word about voicing his feelings for you outside of the office, they could find another job.
“Love you, too!” You called back.
That brought a small smile to his face. “Let’s get started so we can all get back to our regular evening plans,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
After a minute, he glanced over the monitor as he heard gentle movement in the kitchen. You weren't slamming things around, which was good. You understood how crazy things could get since you were his secretary. It didn't mean he enjoyed taking time away from the two of you and he didn’t want you upset with him. Even if you weren't upset, he still had to make it up to you. He-
“Hey, Bucky?” Your eyes lit up as you appeared in the doorway again with a small bowl. He was certain he forgot how to breathe when he eyed what you were wearing: a new black and white apron. And nothing else. Jesus fucking Christ. “You want vanilla frosting for the cupcakes, right?”
Bucky subtly shifted in his seat as you sauntered further into the room, his throat dry at the sight of you. The curve of your hips, your hardened nipples teasing him through the fabric. Calling you beautiful wasn't enough. Your beauty was transcendent, indescribable. The kind that made the strongest of people drop to their knees. He was a powerful man, but still just a man at the end of the day and you rendered him powerless. And right now he needed to focus on the call, but how could he focus on anything but you?
He cleared his throat when Jack rambled on about something. Or was it John? Who gave a fuck? “Cupcake,” he growled.
“I know I do. Maybe you can frost me later?” You scooped a bit of frosting onto your finger and wrapped your lips around it with an obscene moan. Thankfully he had his microphone turned off. They didn't need to hear your pretty sounds. “Mmm.”
He groaned when you showed him your tongue. He knew it was frosting, but the image made it easy to picture you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock and showing him his release before you swallowed like a good girl. It took a lot of control not to palm himself. Surely everyone would understand if he ended the call now. Why the fuck did he take this call?
Making sure his hand was out of sight, he beckoned you closer with his finger. If he was lucky he could get you to take the apron off, sit in the nearby chair, and touch yourself. Or you could keep the apron on. As long as he could see your glistening pussy. Even looking wouldn't be enough. He had to get his mouth on it, his cock in it.
But you didn't go to him.
Instead, you tsked with the finger you licked and pointed at the laptop. “Oh, no, Boss. You listened to Steve and took the call. Now deal with the consequences,” you smiled sweetly, turning on your heel and giving him the perfect view of your ass as you walked back into the kitchen.
Yep, he was in big trouble.
Bucky's fists clenched as he got back to the task at hand, but he also chuckled. He deserved a bit of blue balls for the time being. He also had to respect the way you played the game, but he knew how to play the game, too. Before the night was over, he’d be back in your good graces. He’d eat one of your delicious cupcakes before he got a taste of you. And he'd remind you that he didn't have the world because of money, power, or any of that.
Bucky Barnes had the world because he had you.
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Oh, these two. 🥰 Steve isn't even upset for getting blamed. 🤣 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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seattlesellie · 2 years ago
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don’t cross the line
pairing: ellie williams x reader
warnings: smut (mdni), cheating, angst, mutual masturbation, just morally wrong, mentions of alcohol
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Parties in Jackson fucking suck.
It’s not like youve ever been at a different party, but still. You’ve read about them in the little magazines from the old days you found on patrols. Small blurbs about meaningless celebrities, a concept you barely even understood, drinking themselves to oblivion. Paparazzi pictures of young starlets in black limousines, rappers getting coked up in dark bathrooms. You never really got it. Parties in Jackson were like a parallel universe.
“They must have made that up” you told Dina, your best friend and trusty patrol partner. “Nope” she shrugged. “Heard that Paris Hilton girl was really like that.”
Paris hilton would have hated Jackson parties. A bunch of old people, and a handful of young ones, dancing around to the beat of an old country song, if you could even call that a beat.
You could have responded with a simple “No thanks” when Jesse had invited you to tonights party. You could have told him you were tired, busy, sick, he would have left you alone - But you didn’t, alas, this is how you found yourself here. Alone, in an old barn, listening to the batshit insane, drunk ramblings of an old fart named Seth.
“Ripped that fella’s throat with just one move” Seth mumbled, laughing stupidly at his own words.
“Go — got him real good n’dirty, I tell ya”
Whoever said “respect the elderly” clearly never met Seth. His breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes that he traded for food and supplies, and my god, he was standing so close you could see the veins in his yellow tinted eyeballs. You really were too polite for your own good, you thought to yourself, because Ellie would have shoved him away already.
Ellie.
You felt like slapping yourself in the face. What the hell does she have to do with this? Why can’t you just let it fucking go already? It truly was desperate, and pathetic, and borderline immoral, the amount you spent thinking about that girl.
So what if she used to be your best friend. So what if she was the first girl who ever made you feel something, even if it was too late. She has a girlfriend, and she’s not thinking about you, she doesn’t care, maybe never has, probably never will. She left you for her, with that useless excuse of “Cat doesn’t like it when we hang out” followed by a pathetic “We can do it in secret, though.”, when she saw your eyes turn glossy and your breath hitch up. Fuck her, and fuck those memories. Fuck all the nights you spent together telling each other your deepest and darkest desires, and especially fuck that time you almost-
“Hey”
You'd recognize that voice anywhere.
A royal blue flannel button up shirt appeared at the corner of your eye.
“Mind if I steal her for a sec, Seth?”
She sounded raspy, laced with that velvety layer her voice had adorned whenever she had a sip or more of Whiskey. When you drank together for the first time, at the ripe age of sixteen, next to a big bonfire and the ever so familiar scent of pine lacing your sense of smell, you told her that she sounds different when she’s drunk. More mature, somehow. Less fidgety, slower, sultrier. She replayed that sentence over and over again in her head. “Sultry”, she whispered to herself. “I sound sultry.”
Seth cleared his throat, a deep cough escaping his lungs.
“Of course, pretty girl like her shouldn’t be around me for too long, might start acting all wild!” The old man threw his hands in the air, and disappeared somewhere in the scarce crowd.
Your heartbeat was faster than normal, but that’s not new. Not when she was around, anyways.
Ellie stood by your side, hands crossed over her chest. She had a glass of Rum in her hand, not Whiskey. Funny.
“You’re a Rum type of girl now?” you questioned, never meeting her gaze. If you bothered to look to your side, you would have noticed she was staring.
“Fame’s changed me, I guess” She responded, mixing the fluid in her glass.
One week ago, Ellie went on patrol. One week ago, Ellie killed more infected in one go than anyone else had in years. She was the town’s hero, the infected slayer. Cat even made her a badge. She wasn’t wearing it now.
“Cat or fame?” you quietly mumbled under your breath.
You weren’t spectacularly brave with your words, but one glass of presumably expired white wine made a simple girl go very far.
“Hah. Funny” she scoffed dryly, earning her Rum another pointless swirl.
“You’re the towns hero, I’m the towns comedian, we’re both pretty famous, i’d say.”
Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the wall. She squinted her eyebrows slightly, humming in response. You looked over at her, for just a second, noticing the dim light reflecting in her eyes. She was a sight to behold, the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. You wish she knew that. You wish you could be the one to tell her.
You inhaled deeply, and it came out so shaky that when you exhaled you were terrified she heard the tremor in your body.
“Thank’s for the save, by the way” you said quietly, apologetic. You even smiled politely, which was absolutely for nothing, because she wasn’t looking at you, avoiding your gaze like the plague.
It’s not like Ellie and you didn’t talk since that night she told you she couldn’t see you anymore. It’s been two whole years. You had to talk, you had to communicate somehow, even if it was through polite smiles and dry conversations during shared patrols. Hell, you even went to Cat’s birthday party you somehow were invited to. Dina was practically on her knees begging you to come with her, and who could say no to Dina when she looked at them with those puppy eyes that could tug at a monsters heartstrings?
“Yeah, no problem. That man’s a fucking dickhead” Ellie scoffed, leaned against the bar and crossed her legs.
“Where’s Cat?” you questioned. Are you sure you only had one glass of wine?
“She’s not here” Ellie responded dryly, seemingly annoyed at your question. She almost tsk’d when you asked. She didn’t look surprised by your rude antics, maybe you got like this more often than you thought. How about that time you told her you’re surprised Cat didn’t pack her a sandwich with a sticker on it’s wrapper during patrol?
“I can tell… why?” you inquired. Your own voice was deeper too, it almost matched hers.
“Didn’t wanna come” Ellie said, stuffing a hand inside her pocket. She was uncomfortable, clearly, and wanted, needed, to make you shut up. It’s not because your presence annoyed her, It’s because she knew she was wrong. She knew she fucked up when she ditched you, and if only you knew how it was eating her alive every day. She had to do it, because in her eyes, she would have done something much worse if she hadn’t.
Being around you when she wasn’t with Cat was hard enough, because she knew she could never have you, that you’d never want her. Not if you knew. You were too smart, and too good, to ever want to be with her. Cat was easy, she didn’t ask too many questions. She’d lay there for Ellie when Ellie told her to, and she would agree to stop a conversation when it got too personal. When Ellie cried at night, and woke up sweating, she didn’t ask why. She let it go, and Ellie knew you never would have. You’d fucking hate her if you knew. She could have saved the world — and she didn’t. He didn’t let her. The wounds she had were too deep, they were clawing and tugging at her skin from the inside. Ellie was a tortured soul, and you didn’t deserve that. That’s why she left, and maybe, that’s why she was here right now.
“That’s too bad” you mumbled quietly. You did your best to make it sound genuine, and you failed miserably.
Ellie scoffed.
“Yeah”
You shifted slightly, and walked over to stand right in front of her. You met her eyes for the first time. Those stupid, beautiful emerald eyes.
Ellie looked down, and looked up at you. She swallowed deeply.
“Anyways” you sighed. “Think I’m gonna go”
“Already?” she questioned, slamming her Rum filled glass on the bar counter.
“Yeah, I’m cold and it sucks in here, so” you said, and smiled politely. It really was freezing, and talking to her like this was painful enough.
“Let me walk you” she blurted.
What?
“Huh?” walk you where? the door? you knew where it was.
She tugged at the loose string on the bottom of her button up. It was ironed, where did Ellie find and iron? Did Maria do it for her? Town hero perks?
“Let me walk you home” she repeated, her voice carrying a touch of insistence. Once again, you found yourself captivated by her burning gaze, those eyes that seemed to hold secrets yet to be unveiled.
“I can walk home alone, Ellie” You huffed, ever the stubborn.
“No” she exclaimed.
“Maria said it’s been pretty dangerous”
“I can have my own back, you know, I’m not an idiot” You scoffed. You knew she didn’t think you were an idiot, why did she have to walk you home?
“I know that — Just wanna make sure you’re safe”
“Gosh, Ellie thank you! thank you!” You said in the most high pitched voice you could fathom. “The town’s hero is at it again, everybody!” You exclaimed, slightly raising your voice, earning both of you a few curious looks from the townspeople.
Ellie wasn’t embarrassed. She was just annoyed. And she wanted to slap you in the face for being so stubborn.
She grasped your arm with an unexpected forcefulness, pulling you along as she swiftly guided you outside. In the process, you accidentally bumped into a few people, hastily muttering a string of apologetic "sorry" and "excuse me" as you hurriedly tried to navigate through the crowd. You attempted to resist her firm grip, trying to free yourself with a burst of strength, but you found yourself overpowered by her determination.
Once she managed to pull you outside, she finally released her grip on your arm, allowing you a brief respite from her firm hold.
“You are not walking me anywhere, Williams” you scoffed. What made her think you needed her help?
“You’ve always been so fucking stubborn” she turned to face you. Her hands were on her hips. Her face wore the same expression she did when you went on your first patrol together, when you insisted on going left, even though she knew you had to go right.
“I’m walking now” you stepped away, and started walking. “And if you followed me — you wouldn’t be walking me home, you’d be stalking me” you exclaimed as you backed away.
Ellie quickly followed your pace, her boots stomping on the snow covered ground.
“You are”
Step
“So fucking annoying”
This was the longest conversation you’ve had with Ellie in two whole years. It felt like nothing’s changed, except for everything.
The following ten minutes were torturous. You were walking fast, Ellie right behind you. No words were exchanged between you, the silence enveloping the crisp air as you both walked in silence. Your attention turned inward, focusing on the sensation of the cold air filling your lungs with each breath, and the soft sound of Ellie's boots pressing against the creaking snow beneath her.
You finally arrived at your place. It’s grey exterior blanketed in a pristine layer of snow. Every inch of its structure was adorned with a delicate coat of white.
You turned around to face her.
Ellie’s skin appeared slightly flushed, with a rosy tinge highlighting her cheeks, and her nose bore a noticeable reddish hue, hinting at the crisp winter air. She didn’t say a word.
You took a deep breath. She looked cold.
“Want me to make you some tea?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to let her in, and she didn’t expect you to ask. She looked surprised, her eyebrows turned slightly upwards.
“M’fine” Ellie insisted, her voice resolute despite the chill in the air. She sought warmth by tucking her hands deep into the pockets of her dark green coat.
“Jesus, Ellie — Just come inside” you urged, the concern evident in your voice.
“If walking you was stalking wouldn’t coming in be breaking and entering?” she inquired, a sarcastic tone lacing her words.
“Just —“ you uttered, your voice trailing off as you reached for the doorknob, slowly opening the door.
“Come inside”
"Fine," Ellie relented, her resolve wavering as she decided to follow in your footsteps.
The house welcomed you with its cozy warmth, though slightly disorganized in its appearance. Yet, amidst the subtle chaos, it remained a comforting sanctuary, always your safe space. Being there brought a sense of solace, as if the troubles of the outside world faded away. And with Ellie's presence by your side, an inexplicable tingling sensation spread through your being.
You proceeded to heat up some water, carefully attending to the task of preparing tea, a familiar ritual.
Ellie never knew where to sit, or where to stand, so there she was, examining every single one of your movements. The air felt thick, like you could cut the tension with a switchblade.
"Your house looks different," she murmured in a low voice, leaning against the cream-colored wall.
“Bad different?” You questioned, taking out two mugs from the cupboard.
“No, just… more stuff” she murmured.
"Well," you uttered as you gently placed the teabag into the awaiting mug. “You haven’t been here in a while, so”
Ellie hummed in response, and bit her lower lip.
“You’ve kind of changed too.” you murmured.
“Tattoos looking bigger. And you look more tired. Plus, your shirt looks ironed, so maybe you even… showered? Woah.” you teased.
“Fuck, you really are funny huh?” she said, crossing her arms.
“Always were a sucker for my jokes” you responded with a sly smile.
She didn’t mean to say what she said next, because that was like opening a pandora’s box. Or, more like, the gates to hell.
“This is the longest conversation we’ve had in years” Ellie murmured. You handed her the green colored mug, your finger brushing her’s for a second. You both flinched.
“Mhm” you took a sip from your tea. It was still so hot, it burned your tongue.
“And who’s fault is that?” You questioned, raising your eyes to meet her burning gaze. It was incredibly impulsive.
Ellie rolled her eyes. She looked baffled.
“You still don’t get it, do you? She questioned.
“Get what? that your girlfriend doesn’t like me? trust me Ellie, I get that, crystal clear.” You smiled, as you slammed your mug on the counter.
“I’m not doing this right now” she declared, her tone firm and resolute.
Oh, did that sentence burn through you.
“I think you are” you stepped forward to face her. She looked terrified, like a lost puppy. Not so “town’s hero” now. Thank god she wasn’t wearing Cat’s badge, because she would have looked ridiculous.
“I’m not” she said quietly, looking at the floor beneath her.
You felt the ever so familiar lump forming in your throat. She owed you.
“Tell me what it is exactly that I don’t get” you spat. The pent up anger from all these years finally just fucking bursted. She left you. She left you for her, your best fucking friend.
“It’s just funny how she didn’t give a shit about Jesse, or Dina, or anybody! Just fucking me, right? I’m the fucking problem?” you blurted. Your voice was shaky, filled with rage. The tears in your eyes started forming. You didn’t even know how much you were holding it inside of you, it all overflowed, at 2AM, right in your kitchen. Right where she told you she couldn’t see you anymore.
Ellie was frozen, her mouth parted slightly. She was flushed, and it showed. It wasn’t the cold weather anymore, it was you. She didn’t expect this to happen so fast. She came inside for some fucking tea.
That’s when you shoved her. And she didn’t even fucking move.
“Don’t fucking do this to me” she begged. Her voice was desperate, and shaky, and what the fuck was she hiding?
You found yourselves standing uncomfortably close to each other, the proximity palpable. The warmth of her breath gently grazed your forehead, creating a tantalizing sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.
She took a deep breath.
“What I did was bad. But — fuck, Jesse and Dina never slept over, you know that?”
The room fell quiet.
“So?” you whispered. You couldn’t even look at her.
“Don’t do this” she begged. Her eyes were glossy. She looked as if she was about to cry, too. Her chest was pressed up against yours.
“I’m not doing anything” you mumbled quietly. Her body was so warm. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack, and Ellie felt like she already did.
“If I would have stayed… I would have done something… so much worse” she whispered. Her hands were trembling.
“What would you have done?” you whispered against her. Dangerously close now. You could feel her unsteady heartbeat.
“You know” she whispered back. You saw the vein on her neck, how beautifully spattered the freckles on her skin were, like a constellation.
“Please” you begged.
That’s all it took.
Almost.
"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The proximity between your lips was almost intimate, an agonizingly close distance.
“Please” you begged.
Her eyes were dark, breaths unsteady and fast, like she just ran a marathon. Her chest was rising up and down. She’s dreamt of this moment, for so fucking long. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t fuck more people up. She’s done more than enough.
“You don’t know what you fucking do to me” She whispered against your skin. Her eyes were shut closed. If she didn’t see, maybe it would’ve been less wrong. If she didn’t see, maybe Cat wouldn’t either. She could go home, kiss her girlfriend good night. Walk away. But there you were, pressed up against her, making her head spin like a carousel, fogging her brain with your scent, and your lips, and all of the times she pictured you like this, helpless and begging. She never looked at Cat how she looked at you. Cat never made her feel like she could faint at any given moment. Cat was safe, she was a sunny day. You were a thunderstorm, a cloud, soaking her up. When Ellie said she would have done something so much worse, she meant that.
Cat was right when she told her to stay away, she always was. When Ellie begged Cat to stop her ramblings, Cat told her she looks at you like she’s hungry. That it’s disgusting, that she wishes it was her. She was crying, and begging, and she was right. That’s why Ellie knocked on your door that way. One person she could save.
Ellie’s hands were firmly pressed up against the wall, locking you in.
“You dont know…” she whispered.
You whimpered silently at her words. You were aching everywhere, you just needed her to do something.
“Show me” you said, and it came out more as a plead. You were begging her.
Ellie leaned in, drawing her face closer to yours, and your lips delicately brushed against each other. The electrifying touch sent a shiver down your spine, evoking a soft, involuntary moan that escaped your lips. It went straight to her heart, and then slipped right to her cunt.
Her lips were plump against yours. Just barely touching.
She delicately brushed her lips against yours, causing a gentle collision that sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. A shaky breath escaped her mouth.
“Ellie…” you whispered. Ellie, just do it. you can’t take it anymore.
She abruptly slammed her hands against the wall, causing it to tremor ever so slightly. The suddenness of the action startled you, making you jump in response.
“Shit” she huffed.
And her lips weren’t against yours anymore, neither was she.
Ellie backed away. She couldn’t.
Your lips quivered, and there it was. Her precious thunderstorm erupting.
The tears came out hot, and sticky. They ran all over your cheeks. You let out a quiet sob. Ellie was staring, her breaths uneven and her mouth agape. She almost did what shes been dreaming of doing since the moment she saw you. Almost.
your legs betrayed you, giving out completely. You crumbled down onto the floor, unable to stand any longer. With tears welling up in your eyes, you instinctively curled up, bringing your head between your legs as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to consume you.
It was a truly pathetic sight, Ellie towering over your quivering body. It’s been two whole years, and you missed her every single day that passed. It was gnawing at you. Seeing them hand in hand, kissing on the street, making out behind the dumpster. Thinking of Ellie hugging her at night, caressing her skin, touching her everywhere, telling her she loves her, fucking her, tasting her and not you. It should have been you. But it couldn’t be.
If only you knew that when Ellie was between her thighs, you were the only one she thought of. If only you knew Ellie had to bite her lip till it bled to stop from screaming your name. That’s why Ellie always turned off the lights, That’s why Ellie shoved Cat’s face down on the bed with her entire palm when she took her from behind. That’s why she always closed her eyes.
Her body gave up on her, too.
She sat on the cold concrete floor, trying to steady her breaths.
“Look at me” she commanded. It was breathy, and shaky, more of a plea than a real command.
You wiped your tears.
“I can’t” you whispered.
“Please” she begged.
You mustered the strength to lift your face, raising your gaze to meet hers.
“I think about you all the time” you blurted.
She huffed in response. Your soft voice was killing her. She couldn’t even respond. She just watched.
“Ellie…” you whined. The distance between you was torturous. There was so much space, and at the same time, no space at all. You could still feel her lips brushing against yours. You wished you could taste her. She yearned for that even more. She felt like something was chaining her down to the floor, holding her captive.
What you did next, is something Ellie had buried deep inside her darkest fantasies.
You delicately caressed your smooth neckline, doe eyes burning through her’s.
Ellie swallowed deeply.
“What are you doing?” she mumbled, lower than a whisper. Her voice was raspy, and her pupils were blown out. She was imagining, for sure, hallucinating, intoxicated by the picture of you being pressed up against her. It couldn’t be real.
“I need you” you whimpered.
She almost crawled right to you right then and there. Her knees were spread open in front of you. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart felt like it was leaping out of her chest.
“You cant” she insisted. It felt like she tried to convince herself, and not you. You couldn’t. There’s no way.
“I want you” you whispered, lowering your hand to caress your breasts.
Something took over you. Being pent up with frustration for years birthed such a desperate sight, she couldn’t fathom it.
She grunted in response. Do that again and she’d lose her fucking mind.
You cupped your breast.
Ellie threw her head against the wall. She forgot how to breathe. Her nostrils were flared, and she almost slapped herself in order to convince her that this was real. This was happening.
“Holy shit” she wheezed.
“Please” you begged, and squeezed your breast forcefully. Your nippled hardened against the material, so you gave them a twist, sending a bolt of electricity right through your clothed cunt.
Ellie’s mouth was agape. She was transfixed, mesmerized. Her cheeks grew more red by the second. It was so fucking wrong, she almost told you to stop, but she couldn’t. Her voice felt dry and her brain was buzzing. Her ex best friend was so desperate for her she couldn’t even help herself.
The image of Cat went through her head. Cat seeing, walking in. Cat trembling and crying, telling her she told her so. Cat screaming at her that she’s an awful person, that she hurt her, That she should burn in hell.
Then, you took your shirt off.
And Cat was gone.
Her eyes were darting from your tits to your needy eyes. You were giving her that look she only saw in her dreams. That desperate, pathetic twinkle in your eye. She saw a girl look like that in an old porno she found. Ever since, that picture of your face replacing the actresses burned through her memory. She knew it was for her, you were showing her, but she looked like she wasn’t supposed to see, a peeping tom, a pervert. Her cunt twitched inside her tight black boxers. Cat never made her cunt feel like this.
The dainty lace bra adorned your body. you looked like an angel, eyes red from crying, cheeks still wet, chest rising up and down. She wanted to ruin you.
You stopped for a second, looked for a sign to keep going.
The room was silent, the only noises that muttered were your soft whimpers and Ellie’s harsh, uneven breaths.
“Take it off” she whispered. You almost couldn’t believe she said that. You nodded pathetically. She always knew you’d be like this. She imagined you nodding your head frantically, kneeling beneath her and undoing her belt, way too many times she wouldn’t dare to admit. Her heavy breaths were a confession to all of her sins.
You unclasped your bra, your tits spilling out of it with a sigh of relief.
Ellie was hypnotized, fully staring. She remembered the first tine she saw you in a bikini. Jesse noticed she was staring, and he gave her some advice. “Look at the ground or the sky, pretend there’s something super interesting going on there”
She didn’t need to pretend now.
“Fuck” she grunted, feeling her cunt twitch inside her briefs. Her mouth was agape, she wanted those nipples between her teeth. Her tongue slightly moved involuntarily inside her mouth, imitating the kitten licks she’d give your tits if she could. It was truly pathetic. Thank god you couldn’t see. Her fists were clenched, and she was forcing her feet onto the ground. If she pretended something was pulling her in, she wouldn’t crawl towards you and take you like she always wanted.
You toyed with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers, almost as if you read her mind.
“Spit on ‘em” Ellie demanded desperately.
“Ellie…” You whimpered, her voice was making you grow wetter by the second. If you took your pants off, she could see the wet patch that soaked through your panties, making them almost sheer. You were almost embarrassed, but it was too late now.
“Do it” she commanded.
“Do it for me” Ellie begged. She brought a hand up to cup at her perky clothed breast. She imagined it was you, your tits between her fingers. She wanted to squeeze the fat, take it in, spit on it, latch her mouth onto your nipples, slap them as you ride her thigh, or her face, or her whatever the fuck you wanted.
The saliva ran down your chest, droplets flowing at an incredibly slow pace, each and every one of them teasing Ellie, mocking her. Almost there, almost reaching your sensitive nipples. When it finally did, Ellie was breathing so heavy she almost wheezed.
You rubbed the spit all over your tits, glazing your nipples with the liquid, coating them shiny with your saliva - all for her. You were staring at ellie with your mouth open. You moaned at the sensation, making Ellie shift and slightly slide off the wall. She was gone.
“Feels so good” you whined.
“Fucking shit” She huffed. She bucked her hips, searching for that friction. She didn’t do it yet, but oh she will.
“Mhhm” you hummed, a high pitched moan escaping your lips.
Ellie almost went cross eyed.
“Need you, please” You whispered while massaging your breasts. You were squeezing the fat harshly, almost punishing yourself for being such a dirty, desperate girl.
“Show me” She begged, in between breaths.
“Show me how bad - shit”
You cupped your cunt, your hand feeling warm over it. Your clit twitched. Ellie let out a moan so deep, you almost came right then and there, all over your panties.
You circled your clit through your pants, teasing Ellie without even realizing. I can do it, and you can’t! It felt like you were mocking her.
“Take that shit off — fuck” she huffed. Her hand was resting on her thigh, pinching it. Stay down. Don’t crawl, don’t fuck, don’t cheat.
In a matter of six seconds, your pants were on the floor. You crossed your legs together in embarrassment. What if she saw how wet you were?
“Spread” She commanded.
You looked at her stupidity.
“Spread ‘em, please” Ellie begged.
You spread your legs slowly, revealing your soaked white cotton panties to Ellie. Her eyes rolled back at the sight.
“Fucking shit” she grunted.
Her hand met her own cunt and gave it a stinging slap, followed by a desperate grunt. She moved her veiny hand up and down, almost grabbing her pussy. She felt perverted, and sickly, and so, so good. The friction of her hand on her cunt was followed by a string of deep moans, chanting your name like a prayer. She didn’t even know how bad she needed it.
“Wider” She commanded.
You spread your legs so wide your thighs almost hurt. When Ellie saw that wet spot, she lost it.
“So wet” she whispered in disbelief.
“Show me that pussy” She whimpered.
“Show me that fucking pussy”
You moved your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your clit making you flinch. You swore you could cum just from clenching in and out, listening to the obscenities leaving her mouth.
“Holy shit” She moaned, and cupped her cunt forcefully.
“So pretty” she whispered. It was even prettier than she thought, glistening folds and a little puffy button poking out. She needed to see inside, everywhere.
“Spread it with your fingers” She grunted. You parted your lips with your pointer finger and your thumb, wide open for her. She saw how bad you were clenching, begging for something inside. Your puffy clit moved with every pull.
“Wanna fuck you so bad” she groaned, it was killing her.
“Need to see you Ellie, please, please” you begged.
With that whine leaving your mouth, Ellie unzipped her jeans, and pulled down her boxers slowly, revealing you of the most beautiful sight youve ever seen in your life.
Her thighs were creamy, a mound of soft, dark hair adorning her pubis. Her slick was shining on her milky inner thighs from the boxer briefs she took off slightly brushing on them. She was so wet, it almost glistened like a far away star, deep in the galaxy. Her mouth was parted and she looked famished.
Tiny droplets of sweat were shining on her forehead, making her hair stick to her face. She was a panting, desperate mess.
You couldn’t help but slide your hand up your thigh, and started running your fingers through your glistening folds. Finally. “Oh god, Ellie” you moaned. You wished those were her fingers, if you could, if you only could.
Ellie moaned like a porn star at the sight. You thought she might tease herself, might play with her cunt before doing something. She proved you wrong.
She slid two long fingers inside her aching hole, squelching sounds filling the air. She pumped them in and out, fucking herself like a madwoman. Her hungry eyes were fixated on your fingers caressing your needy cunt. Her mouth was watering, borderline drooling, soft “ah!”s escaping her lips.
You circled your clit slowly, and felt your lower stomach leap at the contact. You lapped your slick with your middle finger, and sucked on it. It was obscene. Ellie’s cunt twitched. She almost came.
“Good girl” She groaned at the sight.
“Faster” She commanded, a deep moan escaping her lips.
You fastened your pace, and she was looking you directly in the eyes while pumping her fingers inside her cunt. With every pump, you could see a milky cream coating her fingers, the sight alone made your puffy clit ache with pleasure.
It was so wrong, and obscene, and pathetic, and you almost came.
“Fucking shit — fuck yourself, show me, fuck yourself” She whimpered, fastening her pace as well. The moans that left her mouth were deep, bursting from the inside of her soul.
Her fucking ex best friend.
“E — Ellie m’close” you whined, inserting a finger inside your soaking hole.
“Can see how fucking tight you are - fuck”
“Faster, do it f’me baby faster” She groaned.
The harmony of your moans intertwined, creating an intoxicating symphony.
“Ellie — gonna cum, fuck” You babbled, drool running down your chin. You were so close, eyes rolling to the back of your Ellie filled brain.
“Please fuck me, please fuck me”
“Cu — Fuck, shit, m’cuming” Ellie grunted.
“Say my fucking name” She demanded, her words coming out so sloppy and ridiculous.
“Ellie — Ellie! Please!”
Ellie almost screamed. She wanted to tell you to come for her, wanted to hear the noises youd make, see your face twist and the screams of her name, but she couldn’t help herself, the sight of your desperate cunt and the look on your face, so stupid, so cumdrunk, so pathetic, begging her to fuck you - brought her to the edge. It errupted inside of her like a volcano, pumping and squeezing on her fingers. She rode her orgasm until it tickled and hurt.
When you came, Ellie almost shed a tear.
This wasn’t just wrong.
This was vile.
She pulled up her pants up and left without saying a word, too embarrassed to look you in the face.
When she got home, Cat was sound asleep on her bed. She gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek, and whispered;
“I’m so sorry”
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harunayuuka2060 · 1 year ago
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Ace: Okay. No one had expected the party was going to be a blast.
Epel: Both in literal and figurative sense.
Ace, Deuce, Epel, Ortho, and Jack: *laughing*
Jack: And who would've thought that MC-senpai's sister and Ruggie would click?
Ace: Like, bruh! I still remember their conversation!
Ace: "Is MC-senpai looking for a brother-in-law?"
Ace: "They don't. But I'm looking for a boyfriend. Are you available?" *claps, laughing*
Epel: By the way, we'd only seen senpai when the party was about to end.
Jack: Yes. And I think they have injured their left eye.
Ortho: I wonder what happened.
Malleus: Didn't I tell you to be careful?
MC: *has returned with a bleeding eye and deep scratches on their arms and neck* *giggles*
MC: The souls I have arrived to were too excited~.
Malleus: ...
Malleus: Let me patch you up.
MC: Hm~? Has your mom left already~?
Malleus: Yes. She didn't want you to see her off.
MC: Eh~.
Malleus: Oh and, you've decided on Rosehearts and Schoenheit?
MC: Hmm~ *giggles* Riddle will never be my option~. He's too young~.
MC: And will die easily because of stress~.
Malleus: That's... *sigh* How about Schoenheit?
MC: If it's Vil~ Hehe~ He's a fine choice~ But~ I'll be too possessive~.
Malleus: You're worried that you would be too possessive for Schoenheit?
MC: *nods then giggles* Wouldn't anyone be~?
Malleus: ...
Malleus: I'm surprised with your self-awareness.
MC: *touches his face with their bloody hands*
Malleus: *frowns* Hey.
MC: *giggles*
Malleus: *sigh*
Silver: MC's parents are amazing.
Lilia: Indeed. I don't think anyone would do what they have done for the sake of love.
Sebek: That's just pure insanity! And I don't even understand the explanation at all!
Sebek: How could they be both half-dead?!
Silver: MC's father had died long ago, but for some reason, his body never decomposed. And their mother, who was an infamous necromancer, found him and fell in love at first sight.
Sebek: I understood that part! What I'm trying to say is how were they able to produce offsprings?!
Silver: ...
Silver: Oh. You have a point with that, Sebek. *turns to look at Lilia*
Silver: Do you know how that is possible, father?
Lilia: Yes. But you're still innocent to know.
The Ramshackle students: Housewarden! How is your eye?
MC: It's fine~ But it feels really itchy~.
Grim: Don't think of plucking that out, mryah!
MC: *giggles* Why~ Its string is still connected to the socket~.
Grim: Just don't!
MC: Okay~. If you could distract me~.
The Ramshackle students: We will study hard so we can get the first place in rankings!
MC: Eh~ That's a nice proposal~.
MC: But if one of you fails~ Would you like to receive my eyeball as a reward~?
The Ramshackle students: N-No, housewarden...
MC: *giggles* Fail or not~ All I want you to do is enjoy school~ Like how I enjoy my stay here~.
The Ramshackle students: *sniffles* Yes, housewarden!
Grim: You're awfully nice today. *looking at them suspiciously*
MC: Well~ The next couple of months will be a torture~.
The Ramshackle students: That's still fine, housewarden!
MC: *giggles*
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jasmineandcedar · 2 months ago
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He had seen the light | Pathetically obsessed 1
An Elriel one shot (Azriel’s POV)
This is just one long racing thought of a pathetically obsessed male and the female that makes his head go quiet.
I was scrolling fanart of Elain during lunch and realized I might be pathetically obsessed. Then I thought, what better way to release my pathetic obsession with Elain than to write an unhinged inner monologue of Azriel’s. And I had been wanting to try and write something a little comical, because I haven’t tried that yet. So here we are!
Warning: sexual content (fantasies).
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Azriel found himself by a window overlooking the garden in one of the smaller bedrooms of the town house after Rhys had pulled him aside for a private word. Azriel had forgotten all about why he was even there the moment he stepped up to the window and laid eyes on Elain tending to the garden. Rhys had mentioned something about unfinished business dragging on. As far as Azriel was concerned, the only unfinished business of any significance was the one that Rhys had most inconveniently made sure remained unfinished when he interrupted that kiss with Elain that surely would have been the pinnacle of Azriel’s existence.
Elain, that perfect angel, was currently kneeling in the cold garden in perfect view. Small puffs of air left her perfect lips with every perfect exhale. Yes, perfect was the word.
Was she cold? She looked cold. What if she was cold? Those delicate fingers—they needed to be kept warm. Azriel would make it his life’s purpose to keep the hands of that sweet angel warm. It would be an insult to the natural order of things for her to be cold.
"So, any news on Bryaxis?" Rhys asked.
Bryaxis. Azriel snorted internally. That wretched being faded in importance to the lovely creature currently blessing his eyeballs with her mere existence. Everything faded in importance next to her. She was the sun, and he was lucky just to be in her orbit. She was perfect—from the way her hands could nurture even the tiniest, most insignificant things into spectacular creations of greenery and blossoms, to the way she could look upon the world’s misery with hope in those perfect eyes.
And then, of course… Azriel tilted his head. Perhaps he shouldn’t go there, but that categorically perfect ass... It would be a sacrilege not to go there with the absolutely sacred view he currently had of her as she knelt in the garden. She was a wonder.
The way his hand could make contact with that perfect behind so delectably if she wanted it. Maybe twice, if she really liked it. Or more. Enough to leave a mark, if that’s what she desired. Should she want that, it would only be polite to oblige, after all. The right thing to do, and Elain made Azriel want to do the right thing for the first time in his life. Her will, his law. Azriel would happily indulge in her desire for his hand to connect delectably with her behind repeatedly, should she invite it. The stuff of legends. He would go to war for the chance to have his palm delectably connect with Elain’s perfect behind.  
Azriel realized then that he had been wrong when he told Cass not to show all his cards at once and to save some for later. He had been a foolish male then. Insufficiently experienced in the art of being pathetically obsessed. He understood now. He was a different male now. He had become enlightened. Because even the way that literal angel breathed had him wanting to pin her to the nearest wall and show her all his cards at once—and then some.
He had a few aces up his sleeves, alright, and she deserved them all. He had one in his pants too, but he’d save that one for last. He knew which card he’d play first: the one that started with him on his knees and ended with her coming on his tongue. That's how all his fantasies began. He felt that ace in his pants stir.
Fuck. Not now.
Thank the Mother he had his shadows to conceal his scent, or he would have been done for. It wouldn't do to get a raging hard-on at an intel meeting about Bryaxis of all miserable things. Rhys would never let him hear the end of it. He had to think of something unappealing. Fast.
He looked at Rhys, who raised his eyebrows.
That motherfucker. Azriel loved that motherfucker but sometimes he was a motherfucker. Rhys might have ordered him to stay away from that perfect angel in the garden, but he should know by now what Azriel’s mind was capable of cooking up.
"Bryaxis?" Azriel asked calmly.
That should keep Rhys going for a few minutes. Despite the headaches it induced, in moments like these it was a blessing that the High Lord had an affinity for blabbering. Just nudge Rhys a little in whatever direction—preferably one pointing at himself—and he could go on for ages. As long as you knew how to shut it out, you'd get a few blissful moments of peace and quiet. A male needed a little privacy with his pathetically obsessive fantasies, after all.
Peace and quiet. He was looking at it right now. She was peace. She was the quiet of early morning. The sun incarnate. Was he spouting poetry again? He would resort to it for her. He would spout poetry on his knees, throwing his cards at her all at once. He had once told her he was born hearing the song of the wind. He was quite proud of that one. He had practically melted into a puddle internally at her response.
That’s very beautiful.
More beautiful words had never been uttered. He sighed longingly—internally, of course. Azriel knew all too well how to keep up appearances. He watched as Elain rose to her feet and wrapped her coat more tightly around her. He hadn't known there was such a thing as a perfect curve to an elbow, but that was only because he hadn't met Elain. He hadn't seen those perfect elbows of hers. They were prefect because they were Elain’s.
Elain. Even her name was like a caress to the vocal cords when he whispered it into the night as he touched himself to the thought of him touching her to completion. She was perfection. He didn’t even have to speak, and she understood his miserable soul. How was that even possible? She was divine and he had seen the light. Divinity. That is what she was.
And Divinity was currently looking up at him through the window.
His head went quiet.
"Have you been able to confirm Bryaxis..."
That motherfucker. Was he still going on about that wretched thing? How could Rhys even think about something as insignificant as Bryaxis when there was a literal angel in his garden? Did he not see? Had he not seen the light? Were his eyes not open to the wonders of the fierce, quiet female gracing their unworthy souls with her presence? Azriel wasn’t one to draw attention to himself, but he wanted to scream at the world to just look at her. Mother above, how was he supposed to be in the same room as her and not make a complete fool of himself when she was...
"Az?"
"...so fucking beautiful". He looked at Rhys. Had he said that out loud?
"Thank you. Now tell me something I didn’t already know."
------
This is part one of Pathetically obsessed. Part 1: He had seen the light Part 2: An out-of-body experience
There’s no chronological order to them, and they are standalone (one shots), but they are written in the same style and on the same theme.
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(Please don’t think I dislike Rhys after reading this. I just wanted to light-heartedly depict some of Azriel’s potential pent-up frustrations with Rhys after ordering him to stay away from Elain. I love Rhys, but sometimes he is a motherfucker 😉).
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coriphallus · 10 months ago
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A little rant on patch 6 and the implications for bg3's future
Okay, bear with me for a sec its gonna go somewhere eventually. My first bg3 run (thats spammed here on this blog) i played ascended astarion/dark urge romance where i picked the reject bhaal and become the absolute ending.
as it was my first playthrough on release i was vibrating off mt seat and i didnt really have elaborate HCs or anything, i was just doing a quick evil run until the bugs get sorted out. i didn't think much beyond "yes this dude would want the shiny stones for himself"
first time i saw astarion enthralled, i was confused. he asked me to do it, he was quite insistent on it since the beginning of the game. i was confused for a couple of hours, digesting the entire game i just played. Then it hit me; the game was calling me out. it was telling me ive been stupid for not having seen this coming and at that point i felt awe.
it was right, everything pointed to this, it was right in front of my eyes all i needed was to connect the dots that the game laid out quite visibly and i was just too caught up to see.
'well my durge would never do that' didnt matter because thats exactly what the companions thought. Gale thought the powers of an insatiable weave wouldnt corrupt him, that he'd stay true to himself, shadowheart thought shar had blessed and her she'd guide her, that she could be her true self under her influence, astarion thought he'd be free, that he'd cherish the bond he'd made with the player but at the end of the day power reveals; and when that power is acquired through the corpses of thousands its quite evident that Absolute power corrupts absolutely. IT WAS IN THE FKIN NAME.
it was a shining bait i was so focused on getting my hands on that i didn't look back to see the mountain of corpses i had to step on to get there. the game was telling me 'HEY LOOK AT EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE TO GET HERE, LOOK AT WHAT HAPPENED TO ALL THE OTHERS WHO THOUGHT THEY COULD ACHIEVE THIS, DO YOU THINK YOU'D HOLD HANDS AND SING KUMBAYA WITH YOUR FRIENDS AFTER ALL THIS?'
just as there was never an option where frodo could stab saurons flaming eyeball and sit on his throne with the ring on his finger and sam at his side, there was never an ending i could get my 'happy ending' the way id like it to. i wanted frodo to remain in middle earth and have some peace in the end, i didnt understand how he was 'too changed' to remain and sam wasnt when i first read the books. i was angry even, that i didnt get what i wanted. it wasnt like tolkien haphazardly put together an ending out of his ass bcs he didnt know what to do with the characters, its not that he didn't think while writing that the fans would hate it, he wrote a story that achieved its catharsis by reaching its narrative conclusion. it couldnt have done that any other way. it was deliberate. i may not have understood or agreed at the time but it was the story he wanted to tell, and it wouldnt be one of the greatest stories ever told if the writer wanted to please a 10 y/o like myself.
it was never out of character for my durge at all, i was just blissfully avoiding the NARRATIVE.
months later we get this absolute narrative abomination:
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and all i can say is im worried.
im worried bcs this is a clear disrespect to the story they've written, im worried bcs if they can do off with huge plot elements and beats such as this just like that it shows a lack of commitment to their own plot and if a huge Point of the game can be treated like a minor mistake than what else can? was is just a lack of oversight that laezel gets killed under vlaakith? can it be waved off if enough vlaakith loving gith players come together and shout loud enough that they want to ride alongside their queen with their gith gf?
what part of the game is tangible to hold on to, and after two years worth of patches that are made to appease the fans at the expense of the story, will it still be the game i fell in love with?
i dont blame the fans for wanting, i blame the devs for delivering. that they could sacrifice the integrity of a pretty straightforward story bodes ill tidings for the future of this game.
yes i wanted this feature, but i was glad i wasn't given it. i may have been confused and slightly miffed that i didn't get to reign supreme with my evil bf, but i immensely respected the game that could call me out on it. i wish they could show the same respect to their own writing.
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threewaywithdelusion · 1 year ago
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Flirting with Danger (Robin & Eddie & Steve snippet)
“Hey, Eddie? Why do you flirt with Steve so much?”
Eddie froze. Eddie was always in motion, so it was strange to see him still. Eddie thought he ran, but that wasn’t true. He deflected, he made himself larger than life, turned parts of himself that he was confident about into a target. Unless he was really, really afraid. Then he froze. 
Robin understood his other habits. She babbled when she was nervous. She preferred being teased for talking too much or for being a klutz than the other things she was worried people noticed about her. 
But Robin had never used outrageously flirting with Steve as a tactic. She’d made fun of him, sure, but it had been hilarious watching The Hair strike out with literally every single girl who’d ever walked into Scoops Ahoy. 
What Eddie was doing was different. 
Robin forged on, her mouth running ahead of her brain, as usual. “Cause, like, I get it. He’s pretty and all and he makes some really funny faces when you do that. But he doesn’t really reciprocate so I would have stopped by now if I were you, but who knows, I’ve never even been on a date so maybe my problem is that I give in early. Oh my god. Maybe you’re actually doing this right.”
Eddie raised his hands in a wide gesture. “Woah, Buckley, chill. And lower your voice.”
Robin looked around. They were still alone, the only ones in Steve’s living room. But she understood why Eddie was afraid of this conversation being overheard, even if she thought anyone with eyeballs must have realized he was hitting on Steve by now. Except maybe Mike Wheeler, who was blind to just about everything, and Dustin, who was still determined to set Steve up with either Robin or Nancy, and Lucas, who was still distracted with his girlfriend’s recovery. 
Okay, maybe not everyone had noticed. 
“Sorry,” Robin said. “But come on, you can tell me.”
Eddie looked around again, then leaned in dramatically. “Okay, this is going to sound stupid, but. I don’t know how well you knew Steve a few years ago.”
“Not well. We had Mrs. Click’s class together two years ago, but besides that our paths never really crossed.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Well Steve and I didn’t exactly run in the same circles, but we ran in overlapping ones. I was a junior when he was a sophomore, and then we were seniors together. And I’ve been dealing to the basketball jocks for years, so I saw him around at parties and shit. And he was… very different than he is now.”
“You don’t have to tell me that Steve was an asshole. I know that.” Robin eyed Eddie, confused on what this had to do with all the flirting. Was Eddie just irresistibly into people who did hardcore self-improvement? “He knows that too, by the way.”
“I guess,” Eddie said. “I mean, he seems to. But that kind of evolution? It’s basically unbelievable, right. Like, if I wrote some DnD campaign where someone started out as a villain like that and turned into the hero, no one would buy it.”
Robin was taken aback.
Hold up. This wasn’t lovestruck gushing. The only person allowed to insult Steve like that was Robin. Maybe Dustin on a good day. 
“He wasn’t a villain,” Robin said heatedly. “He was an asshole and an idiot, but he was no worse than every other jock who goes to our school and he was a hell of a lot better than a lot of them, even then.”
Eddie’s face turned dark. “You didn’t hear the shit he said.”
No, she hadn’t. She’d overheard sometimes, when he’d called some kid or another a freak or a nerd, but she’d had no reason to hang around Steve back when they’d both been in high school. She was thankful for that sometimes. She knew Steve was different now and that he regretted the things he’d said and done in the past. But it was easier to forgive him when she didn’t know exactly what he was guilty of. 
“He can’t have been worse than Billy Hargrove. Or Jason Carver.”
Eddie scoffed. “Yeah, cause being better than Billy Hargrove or the guy who convinced the whole town I was in a satanic cult and then tried to murder me is a real selling point. What a high bar.”
He leaned in closer to her. “He was a bully, Robin. He made life awful for kids like me. Like those kids in there.” He jabbed a finger at the kitchen, where Steve was teaching The Party how to cook. “The nerds, the geeks, the outcasts, the queers. And I guess you and I and those kids are proof that he doesn’t care about the bullshit high school social hierarchy anymore. But there are some things people still hold against you out here in the real world.”
Robin scoffed. “So you’re trying to prove that Steve — Steve who fights monsters from another dimension off with a baseball bat and babysits a bunch of fifteen-year-old nerds — is still the guy you knew?” Robin fought to keep her volume down when she wanted to scream. “Cause Steve is the best person I know. He’s brave and selfless and so fucking kind, like good from the bottom of his soul, and he’s a little vain and a little slow but he isn’t anything worse than that. And fuck you for thinking that kind of thing about my best friend.”
Eddie shook his head slowly. “I’m not denying he’s good to you, Robin. But in this little group, our fucking lives depend on each other. So excuse me for trying to find out if he’s good to people like me.”
Robin only had time to blink before Eddie continued.
“I know flirting with him is insane and maybe a little suicidal. But I just want to know how far I can push him before he snaps. If he’s gonna say some shit or hit someone for acting queer, I’d rather it be me than W- one of those kids. And I’d rather know before I’m trusting him to have my back in a fight against a monster that preys on our fucking fears and traumas.”
Robin stared at Eddie for a long moment. She couldn’t believe that she and Steve had both been wrong. Eddie hadn’t been genuinely flirting with Steve, but he also hadn’t been using Steve as a safe option. Hell, Steve had been so far off it would have been laughable if it wasn’t so sad.
Robin remembered when she’d come out to Steve, stinking of vomit and high out of her mind and just as afraid as she’d been in the secret Russian bunker. 
She understood why Eddie was afraid. She probably would have been too, if she didn’t know Steve like she did. If the drugs hadn’t loosened her tongue and allowed her to tell Steve a secret she’d never shared with anyone else. 
There was only one thing she could think to do. 
“Steve!” Robin called. 
A moment later Steve came running through the doorway, a kitchen knife in his hand. He visibly relaxed when he saw that Robin and Eddie were just sitting on the couch and not being attacked by monsters from the Upside Down. 
“Robin! How many times have we talked about this? If you just scream for me, I’m going to assume something is trying to eat you.”
Robin snorted. “You say that, but you called me in a panic when you ran out of hairspray before a date and you started with the words ‘Robin, this is an emergency. I need your help.’”
Steve dragged a hand over his mouth. “I- okay, I did. But-“
“Anyway,” Robin cut him off. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but all your little ducklings were crowded around you learning how to use a stove.”
“Tell me what?” Steve asked. 
Robin grinned. She pulled a little slip of paper from her pocket and waved it out towards Steve. “Vickie’s digits.”
Steve’s eyebrows shot up in a slightly offensive look of shock. “Holy shit, Robin, you actually managed to get her number?”
He shot a glance at Eddie, probably wondering why Robin was choosing to have this conversation in front of Eddie Munson. 
Robin ignored the look and smirked. “Vickie was complaining about how she hasn’t seen a movie in ages, since the mall burned down. I told her that I work at the video store and that my very platonic best friend has a giant tv we could borrow if she wanted the full experience. And that we could make popcorn and eat candy and do all the things teenagers are supposed to do in movie theaters. And she said ‘everything?” all suggestive and I almost died! And I told her everything, so I need to steal your house and I need you not to be in it.”
Steve sputtered. “You totally stole my line. Oh my god. You said you didn’t want my dating advice, and then you stole my exact pickup line! And my house!”
Robin rolled her eyes. “What’s yours is mine, Dingus. Even your cheesy pickup lines.”
Steve grinned, looking proud. 
Robin beamed back at him. She loved that she could go to Steve, that he was her biggest cheerleader when it came to her love life. That he had never once, from the moment he had learned she was gay, made her feel strange or freakish or different for liking girls. She’d tested him, maybe, a little. In the beginning. When she’d started with innocuous little comments about Molly Ringwald looking generally pretty in the Breakfast Club or the cute girl at Family Video having a nice smile. Steve hadn’t blinked, which had given her the courage to say more, to comment on actress’s collarbones or chests or thighs, to talk about her crushes growing up, to call dibs on customers and be pleasantly surprised when Steve refused to flirt with the girls Robin had chosen, even if they were hopelessly straight and even if they flirted with him first. 
Robin had never trusted anyone the way she trusted Steve, with every part of herself, knowing that there was nothing she could show him that would make him love her less. 
Eddie was staring between them, dark eyes wide in shock and disbelief. 
“Wait,” Eddie said, waving his arms wildly. He pointed at Robin. “You are a lesbian?”
Robin nodded. “Yep! 100% all into the ladies.”
She knew Eddie was safe. There had been rumors about him being gay for years and she’d just watched him spend the past several weeks flirting with Steve Harrington of all people. He’d all but just told her he was queer. But it was still terrifying. She’d only ever told Steve, and she’d been high on Russian truth serum then. 
Robin’s heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. Her hands were trembling. 
Steve, bless his head of beautiful hair, realized at that moment that Eddie hadn’t already known about Robin. He walked closer very quickly, putting himself between Robin and Eddie as best as he could while he was standing and they were both sitting on the couch. 
It was a sweet gesture, especially from a man who had lost every fight he’d ever been in. 
“And you,” Eddie said, swinging to point his finger at Steve, jabbing it into his stomach, “knew about this?”
Robin could only see the side of Steve’s face, but he was watching Eddie with a hard look. “If you have a problem, you and I can take this outside.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. He looked from Steve, to Robin, then back to Steve. 
Steve didn’t move. 
“Holy shit,” Eddie said, more to himself than anything. 
Steve tensed. 
“I don’t have a problem,” Eddie said, leaning back against the couch in an artful slouch. He turned to look at Robin, trying to hide his wide-eyed surprise behind a casual look. “Damn Robin, good for you, finding love in the apocalypse. While the rest of us suffer the woes of portals to hell and the perils of monster attacks, you’ve actually gone and found yourself true love.”
Robin smiled. “Or a movie date. You know. One of the two.”
Steve was looking between the two of them, his brow furrowed in that adorable look of confusion that he got sometimes. 
“I don’t understand anything that just happened here,” he said. 
Robin snorted. She was about to tell Steve that he should mind his business when Eddie said, still in that fake-casual tone, “I’m gay.”
Steve blinked, his eyebrows raising slightly. He looked taken aback. “Um, yeah.” He glanced at Robin, then back to Eddie. “I know I’m not the sharpest bulb in the box, but I’m really good at reading people. Especially when they’re flirting. Flirting is my specialty. You were really obvious, man.”
Eddie’s dark eyes were wide as he watched Steve. 
Steve pushed his hair back nervously. “Was I not supposed to know that?”
Slowly, a grin grew on Eddie’s face. “No, that makes sense. I was just making sure we were on the same page.”
Steve started frowning again. “About…? Oh. Wait. Is this- are you trying to ask me out? Because, I’m flattered dude, but I’m not- I mean. I like girls. A girl. Who doesn’t like me back, but, you know, the heart wants what it wants and all that shit.”
Eddie shot Robin an incredulous look. She gave him a close-lipped smile and a nod. 
Yeah, dude. Her best friend was awesome. 
“No, Steve,” Eddie said. “I’m not trying to ask you out. The last person I wanted to date got murdered by a super-powered psychopath right in front of me and it was quite traumatizing, so I think I’m taking a break from all that dating-slash-falling-in-love stuff for a while.”
Steve’s face scrunched up as he thought for a long moment. “Patrick?”
Robin snorted, feeling hopelessly fond. 
Eddie looked stupefied. “Chrissy, Steve. Remember Chrissy? Who was beautiful and sweet and not actually trying to murder me for starting a cult?”
“But… Chrissy’s a girl?” 
“I like both, man,” Eddie said.
“Oh,” Steve said. Then a second later, “That’s a thing?”
Eddie laughed. He had a look in his eye, like he still couldn’t quite believe Steve was taking this so well but he was grateful for every second of it. 
“Like Bowie,” Robin tried to explain. “He likes both.”
Eddie snapped his fingers and pointed at Robin. “Exactly. Bowie’s metal as fuck.”
Steve looked like he was about to say something when Dustin’s voice came from the kitchen “Steve! Come tell Mike he’s doing it wrong!”
“I’m not doing it wrong! The pasta’s supposed to look like that.”
“No pasta is ever supposed to look like that,” Erica’s voice sounded loudly over the rest. “What? Just the facts!”
“My mom’s pasta looks like that.” That was Will. 
Then Dustin again. “Thanks for proving my point, dude. Steve!”
Steve was smiling softly as the kids all roared for his approval. 
“Go help your kids, Dingus,” Robin said. “And know that I’m not eating anything made by Mike or Dustin.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said. “I’ll make you something else. Eddie?”
Eddie grinned. “Nah man, I’m with you. It’s our job to eat whatever the little shits made and pretend it’s good, right?”
Steve grimaced. “Yeah.”
He left, muttering about being the goddamn babysitter under his breath. 
Robin turned to Eddie, eyebrows up, expectant. 
“Alright, fine! I believe I owe the Lady my apologies,” Eddie said. “I didn’t mean to malign your best friend’s honor and besmirch his good name.”
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soppybitorag · 1 year ago
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The Captain as Man, Mirror, and Medals.....
a 🚨Red Lever🚨 meta on The Captain appearing in a mirror (and a cracked one at that) in the opening credits of Ghosts and what that could mean in the context of s5e5 and beyond :-D
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What do mirrors symbolise?
Briefly, they outer vs. inner perception; who we are vs. what we let people see/want people to perceive us as. Mirrors Cannot Lie, and thusly expose our reality. Reflections are often said to be a persons True Soul, an idea across many early civilisations. It wasn't reflected light rays hitting your eyeballs, it was you seeing your Soul.
But also, we are 'mirroring' people when we copy them, appearing unoriginal and inauthentic.
Captain as Portrait and Mirror -
Now, ghosts can't see their reflections or be captured on camera/film. We don't see Captain looking *into* the mirror, just what is shown to us: the outer self/controlled perception. Also, the way he is framed makes it look like a portrait, something signifying power, virtue, and importance.
What we *see* is a middle-aged man of supposed stature, with a collection of earned medals (reflected, they'd be the right way round, which they aren't irl).
A soldier.
A Truth, as Mirrors Can't Lie.
Portraits can be twisted, however, such as The Picture of Dorian Gray. In it, Dorian's portrait grows more grotesque because of his sins and vices, whilst retaining his external beauty over many, many years.
Captain, likewise, is forever going to look the age he died, much like how Dorian is forever the age of when he got the portrait made. (Not saying they're similar in personality or really any deeper than that, just thought it note worthy.)
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It'd be remiss to forget that in the opening creds, Robin is next to the mirror, flickering a lamp.
He is litterally shedding light on the mirror, implying a deeper meaning/more to be understood about what's there. There's also the fact that the mirror is cracked (cracked? definitely distorted).
Cracked Mirror Symbolism -
Cracked Mirrors can be seen as a form of deception: if distorted they can warp the image presented (even when we expect the truth from them), making things appear closer than they actually are (a common occurance in fairytales, for example), or taller/bigger/wider/fractured.
Some people believe broken mirrors weaken the spirit of a departed person. Oscar Wilde famously used this belief to mark a characters' death in, you guessed it, Dorian Gray.
It's worth noting that Dorian Gray is also the story that led to Wilde's imprisonment for homosexuality.
Cracked Mirrors are notably bad luck in many cultures, too. Romans believed that Gods observed them through mirrors, so breaking them was severing that connection, thusly having the Gods curse you with bad luck.
Ultimately, cracked mirrors present a fractured sense of self, where the inner and the outer are at odds with one another, or there is discontent in one or the other. Perhaps both.
What does this mean for Captain?
Well, we *see* a man of stature/inportance with war medals. Virtuous.
In actuality, the medals were always forever out of his grasp (making things look closer than they are) as he never left Britain, as much as he maybe would have liked to. He stole the medals to deceive the Veterans by façading (being inauthentic/copying/mirroring) as one of them, but bad luck had him put them on clearly wrong to all but him. If he had a mirror, he could've fixed it.
He was most likely one of the lowest ranking people in that room, in a house he once had control over, but no longer did.
Those actions directly led to his death, where he forever is entrapped with and condemned to wear unearned medals.
Of course, he most likely wanted to be perceived as integral/noble by people, but he just wasn't. He thinks himself a coward, wearing a mask, and forever will be. It's no wonder that in his purgatory/button house afterlife, he elects to seek control over how people see him. He's just The Captain.
some extra things I wanna throw in here
Captain died looking into Havers' eyes. He could probably see his own reflection at his end. But at least it was in the eyes of someone who truly knew him and loved him. For him. Told him as much. Because Mirrors Can't Lie.
Also, one way to rid yourself of the bad luck caused by breaking a mirror is, apparently, touching a tombstone with one of the shards and burying it deep down innthe ground where spirits can't find it, at nighttime.
So here are some completely random images.
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the-haunted-office · 3 months ago
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It's a strange thing, walking up all these stairs and never feeling tired. Never running out of breath. Never feeling hungry or thirsty or any kind of fatigue.
Never reaching the end of the stairs, either.
Thursday had been at these stairs for at least the last two or so hours - by her estimate, which, admittedly, had never been her best skill, estimating things, that is, there's a very good reason why she never "eyeballed" recipes or tried to guess her clothing size without getting out the measuring tape - and not so much as a hint had made itself known to her. By her best guess - again, not her best skill - these stairs went on infinitely, which would not have bode well for either her back, knees, lungs, or her patience back in the living world.
In this world, though? This dimension? Whichever dimension she was in. Assuming it was anywhere but "The Narrative". In this place, everything felt fine. She felt fine, And she felt like everything was going to be fine. Even climbing these endless stairs was going to be fine. Sure, she might be climbing them forever, but it was all going to be fine, for one simple fact:
She was here, and not there.
She didn't hurt anymore. Her pain was gone. All of it. Not just the pain in her knees, her back, and her lungs. But the pain in her heart, her head, her soul. All gone.
Well. Not gone, but sort of... soothed. Like having aloe gel spread over it. Some kind of gentle touch laid over top of it saying, It's going to be okay. So long as you keep ascending these stairs, you will be okay.
And so, that is what she did. She kept ascending these stairs, in pursuit of that promise of no more pain.
She'd been in pain for so long. It had settled over her like a heavy blanket, weighing her down, preventing her from even getting out of bed on some days. Nobody seemed to notice. They only saw the happy, smiling Thursday. That's all anybody wanted to see. And what's worse - whenever anyone caught a glimpse of the pain beneath the smile, nobody seemed to care. They'd see it, but they'd all turned away. Even her closest friends would turn away. I didn't see that. Anyway, let's get back to focusing on me! You're my funny friend! You're supposed to be making me laugh, not worry about you! That's how it all felt to her, anyway.
None of them are here now, though. It's just her, this staircase, and no pain.
How are you... doing... Thursday?
Thursday looks up, and smiles. "Good. I feel good. Better," she says, and for once - perhaps for the first time in a long time - she means it. Actually means it.
Good... We are... pleased... to hear that...
Thursday doesn't answer. She just keeps walking, and smiling. This is nice. This tower. These stairs. The Narrative. How could she have ever thought They meant to harm her? To make her miserable?
How would you like... to stay here... with Us?
She stops walking, pondering over the question. Stay here? With The Narrative? What all would that mean?
"What all would that mean? If I stayed here with You?" she inquires, shifting her footing on the stairs so as not to slip on all the brick dust coating them.
You would become... a part... of Us... A part of something... greater than... yourself... but also... something... that is simply... yourself...
Thursday blinks. She definitely did not understand a word of that. Or rather, she understood the individual words and all their individual meanings. She even understood all the words put together and the sentences they formed. But the meaning that was meant to be conveyed there? Nada.
The Narrative must have seen this in her expression, because They clarified.
Thursday... do you really... not recognize... who you are... speaking to...?
She blinks again.
...Look outside... Really look... outside...
Having no choice but to obey, Thursday skips up the next few stairs to the nearest hole in the wall and pushes a few bricks out of her way, widening the hole a little more so that she can fit enough of herself out of it to get a good enough look. She briefly notices how the bricks she pushed out float there rather than falling in one direction or the other, but what really grabs her attention is not the bricks, nor the swirling rainbow, color-changing clouds, nor the finite needle of the tower threading the sky in both directions...
...but all the staircases... staircases everywhere... utterly filling the sky, everywhere, in all directions, up, down, sideways, in loops, inside out, in impossible ways she can't even describe.
And walking them, walking all the staircases... her... herself.
"What the fuuuuuck..." she mutters in breathless gasp to herself, taking it all in.
It's too much to be taken all in.
"Where..." she rasps, clears her throat, tries again. "Where are they- me- we- you know what, where is everybody going?"
Ascending... Becoming a part... of Us... Your Narrative... That is who... and what... you are... Thursday... And who... and what... I am... Didn't you... know?
"This-..." Thursday says, biting back her confusion and her brain exploding long enough to sit down on the brick dust-covered stairs. A minute ago she'd been feeling at utter peace. Now she was feeling in utter pieces. "...I need a minute."
Take your time... dear Thursday... We have... the rest... of... eternity...
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ficjoelispunk · 1 year ago
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Ch 02 - LA CATEDRAL
A continuação você encontra aqui
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<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>
Author's Note: Guys, I'm sorry for any grammatical errors, don't give up on me, translating is not easy, but I did my best. Correct me as much as you can. Thanks.
Life was not fair for Agents Murphy and Peña. Murphy had been practically kidnapped by the Colombian drug cartel, and this was shaking some structures.
People were beginning to feel the dangerousness of the action we were carrying out fighting drug traffickers in a country without laws. Security had become something luxurious in the department. Some people were starting to ask to come home. And when we say home, we used to say United States.
***
You had spent the whole Saturday inside the office, advancing last night's work. You surrendered and decided to go home and come back the next morning after meeting with Agent Peña in the kitchen.
The day went completely unnoticed with you doing all the analysis of the paperwork, cataloging and studying the script of the operations to be able to catalog what was of extreme urgency, urgency and what was urgent but could be left for another day.
The requirements were always made with maximum urgency. And you understood, since certain things needed to be done immediately before the track cooled down, or the contact died. But you needed to be aware of the resources that were within your reach, and act in accordance with the law.
It was a difficult and disappointing job for many people. And that was one of the biggest reasons why you couldn't establish interpersonal relationships in the service. People didn't know how to separate the professional from the staff most of the time.
As soon as you finished everything, with the time off to leave the Sunday of rest. You thanked yourself for being so efficient and still being able to take a day off. And that deserved a celebration.
The bar was very ok. It wasn't beautiful, but it wasn't the worst place either. The indirect lighting left the lights half yellow and orange. The windows were colored. The wooden counters circled the bar with benches, and tables around. It played Colombian ambient music, and the buzz of the conversations stood out over the music.
You walked to the counter, and ordered two shots of whiskey with ice. Repeating the drink at least three times. Your intention was to get home, lie down and sleep without thinking about anything.
"Whiskey?"
The hoarse and low voice that you would recognize anywhere, hovered under your left side. Javier Peña sat on the empty bench next to you.
You didn't have to look at him to know it was him. Your hands moved the whiskey glass in circles watching the movement of the ice inside the glass.
"Why? Am I not a girl who makes the whiskey type?"
He laughed softly.
"It's actually a drink that goes very well with you, strong and... sophisticated"
You looked at Javier, who made a sign with his hand for the bartender to bring it to him.
"I thought you thought I was a brat who wasn't even able to classify an application, let alone drink a whiskey"
"I never said that"
"Yes, you said it, and you act as such"
"Why do you have to be so annoying?" Javier is sitting next to you, leaning on the counter, facing you.
The eyes. The brown eyes deeper than the sea, melting in the eyeball, while staring at you.
"Me?" You frown. "Am I annoying?"
"It's always you who starts with this game" he shakes the glass in front of his body.
"What game?" You look ahead, where the mirror at the bottom of the drink shelves gives you the reflection of Javier's image without having to look directly at him.
"You use that sharp tongue with me, as if I were the most disgusting guy in this place, and all I do is my job"
You smile sarcastically and arch your eyebrows while taking a sip of your whiskey.
"Well, guess what. I'm also just doing my job."
"No, you're tirelessly provoking me."
"And you're tirelessly joking, the world is your amusement park, isn't it Agent Peña, is something really serious for you?"
"Is that what you think I do?"
"I don't give a damn what you do"
"So why are you worried?"
You look at him, while you tilt your head to the side, frowning your eyebrows.
"Ah Peña, less. Much less."
He leans towards you. You can smell the usual smell of his cologne, and the proximity you measure by his reflection in the mirror in front of you, seems to make you sick.
He moves, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. And ascending a cigarette before storing the pack, and keep talking.
"Do you know what I think?" The volume of his voice went down two tones, making him seem to be murmuring in your ear, the timbre of his voice sent chills through your spine.
You ran your tongue through your lips, and stuck your teeth in your lower lip. Wondering if you should really answer the question.
"I wonder what your brilliant mind thinks?" You rested the glass on the counter.
"That you have desire, you've heard about me and you die of curiosity to find out if the stories are real, how many times have you heard for women who begged for just one more taste, than I can give" he spoke patiently and slowly, letting you feel a snap in the middle of your legs, while his voice was low and hoarse and his eyes danced through your body "and your way of moving away is using this sharp and quick mouth to get me out of the face so that you have time to run away, because that's what you Is always doing it. Running away."
You thought about the first answer as soon as possible.
"Spare me." You rolled your eyes
"You can't stay for more than 5 minutes on the same square meter as me, without finding a way to run away" you could see through the reflection of the mirror his eyes running all over the side of your face "What are you afraid of? Of not being able to control your desires?"
Peña was getting closer and closer, to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheeks, his arm on the counter, almost in front of you. If he wanted, the proximity of his siege around you, could easily enable him to hug you there on that bench.
You felt his eyes burning on your face. And all his body language indicated that he could possess you at any time.
You held the glass cup with both hands, strong, visibly leaving a white around your fingers, while moving the ice circularly inside the liquid.
"I wish I had this self-esteem" you raised only one eyebrow for him. But without looking at Javier.
He was very close. And if you turned your face to look at it, you might not answer for yourself.
When Javier did that kind of thing. And he always did. You couldn't connect the neurons. Javier was a very handsome, seductive and attractive man, although you desperately denied it to yourself.
In those moments you felt like a prey for a predator, which surrounded you, leaving you inebriated with temptation.
And despite the temptation. You had an intrinsic hatred for him. A constant irritation. It was something stronger than you. The arrogant way he treated you irritated you. You couldn't have another reaction. And you'd hate that he was right about that.
Maybe you actually ran away. It was a fact, your desire for him. How many times in your dreams did you feel your big hands holding your body. His skin on your skin. His lips.
Alcohol was not your best ally. Absolutely.
Peña straightened up on the bench, establishing the distance between you again. After a long time in silence.
And finally you remembered to breathe.
"All right, I'm tired. You won"
Did you feel frustrated?!
"Great." You said shaking your head.
"Excellent." Javier hit back.
"Magnificent." You looked at him.
"Beautiful." Javier said as he looked at your lips.
And you were sure he wasn't referring to the situation.
Someone, whom you could not identify if it was an agent, or a policeman, since he was not in uniform, approached you, and whispered something in Peña's ear.
Although he is always with a closed face, in these moments with you, you felt him relaxed, even under your provocations.
But whatever they said to him in his ear. His expression fell. And he got serious. His eyes met his, hard, and cold.
He nodded to the man. And he moved down from the bench next to him.
Moved by an impulse, you held his arm that rested on the counter.
"What happened?" You were worried, studying his face.
"Pablo escaped," he murmured.
Pablo Escobar was once a legend. Today would take place the invasion in La Catedral the prison where Pablo was "arrested" under the agreement made. 4,000 men, 250 agents, 7 dogs and the Special Forces would carry out the action.
And apparently they managed to let Pablo escape in the middle of God knows where.
"If you don't mind..." Peña looked at where your hand held his arm.
You shook your head.
"No... go. You have to go," you said worried.
People would start to think that Pablo was invincible. That there would be nothing above him.
Javier ran to the bar's landline, probably calling to give the news to his partner Murphy.
He stared at you while he was on the phone.
After the call he came back to you.
"I'm going to pick up Steve, do you need a ride?" He asked.
It was fair, since you almost all lived in the same complex. If not as close as neighbors.
"No. I'm fine. Go hunt the fox"
He smiled maliciously at you, pleased that you understood exactly what it meant for Pablo to have escaped from prison.
***
In the morning the rumor had already spread all over the planet basically.
If you thought you'd have rest, good. Well, you fooled yourself drastically. There were no weekends at this job.
A hunt had begun. The police battery from door to door behind Escobar. And you knew that your dynamic duo Agent Murphy and Agent Peña would be in the middle. After all, they were the ones who would represent the United States in the middle of all this.
Now things were getting more complicated. The Medellin cartel was made up of several small cartels. But Pablo exceeded some limits, killing people they had for whom they sought revenge.
The Medellin cartel was beginning to unrstructure. Making other Gangs open to negotiations.
Judy Moncada, along with her cousin and her accomplice Don Berna, wanted revenge for the death of her husband who was murdered by Pablo on one of his trips to La Catedral.
They needed access to an Agent who was aware of the information that only American police technology could provide, and they needed it to be an agent who was willing to sell himself.
I bet we thought of the same name.
But they knew how they could do it. How could they access it.
Not until some sicario saw you and Javier at the bar that night.
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buckysgrace · 1 year ago
Text
Thirty One
CW: Slight mention of self harm
“You’re up early,” Rosemary observed as she walked inside the living room, “What are you doing?” She looked at him curiously. Billy peered down towards her as he balanced on a step ladder. He wondered how she always looked so ready for the day this early. 
“Decorating,” Billy said simply, “They had these out at the store and I thought we could use them.” He replied as he continued to string up the orange lights around the curtain rod. He wasn’t used to decorating like this, but he figured that it was never too late to start. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever decorated the inside of the house before for Halloween,” She mused softly as she poured herself a cup of coffee, “It looks nice.” She brought the cup up towards her lips as she observed him. 
“You think so?” He asked as he climbed down the step ladder. He looked up at it, resting his hands on his hips as he fell into a deep thought. He had been unable to sleep again, taking a short nap of only two hours. He was sure that he had destroyed every single dust bunny within this house. He still felt like he needed to find something else to clean, to fix. It was driving him insane, so he worked on decorating instead. 
“Yeah,” Rosemary grinned, “You should hang this up in our closet when Sam is gone. I bet it’ll give him the heebie jeebies.” She laughed as she looked at one of the skeletons that had an eyeball that popped in and out of the socket. Billy thought about it for a moment as he joined her in the kitchen. 
“Is he a wimp like Kim?” He asked curiously, wondering if Kim had unknowingly gained another habit of Sam’s. Rosemary thought about it for a moment as she passed Billy a mug of coffee. He looked down at the liquid, suddenly thinking about the early mornings he’d had with Neil. They weren’t always terrible, at least he didn’t think so. 
Not quite that bad,” Rosemary said with a laugh, “I still feel bad about scaring her.” She replied as she pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge. Billy felt his nose curl as he watched her crack two of them into a pan before she put the carton back. 
“I think Max traumatized her,” Billy chuckled softly as he thought about the many times Max had jumped out and scared Kim,  “She loves that shit.” He nodded his head, thinking about how Max had stolen his previous Halloween mask last Halloween. 
“You know,” She told him as she flipped the egg effortlessly in the pan, “My parents thought that Halloween was for devil worshippers.” She said, her tone of humor as she spoke. Billy thought about it for a moment. He thought that he had heard of people thinking that way but had never really understood why. 
“Really?” Billy asked in interest, “Why?” He asked, trying to gain more insight into her parents. He couldn’t ever remember her speaking of them before, not even when he was little. All he could remember was his grandma Edith. 
“Oh lots of reasons,” Rosemary said as she grinned at him, “I just think they are crazy.” She wrinkled her nose as she spoke but looked fully serious at the same time. Billy tilted his head softly at her choice of words. 
“I thought your parents were dead.” He admitted a second later. He wasn’t sure why she would refuse to speak about them if they weren’t dead. Then again, she refused to tell Russell about Neil and Neil was very much still alive. 
“I don’t know if they are or not. I guess I don’t care to find out either,” She admitted as she buttered his toast for him, “They disowned me once they found out I was pregnant with you.” When she was finished she passed him a plate with the toast as she began to eat her egg. He picked a piece of the toast up as he considered her words.  
“They didn’t like dad?” He asked her softly, feeling like that had to be the answer to the question. He wondered how bad Neil was when he first got together with Rosemary. He wondered if that’s why Neil was so hard on him sometimes, because he reminded Neil of the woman he hated. It seemed probable at this point. 
“No, they didn’t mind him,” She said softly, “They didn’t like that we weren’t married. They were very self-righteous.” She shook her head as she continued to eat, looking like she was far away suddenly. He felt bad, sort of feeling like it was his fault. 
“Have you thought about talking to them before?” He asked as he finished his first piece of toast. He stared at the second one, but really didn’t feel like eating it. His appetite felt smaller than usual, but he figured it had to do with the lack of sleep. 
“Yeah, but not recently,” She replied wistfully, “After Russell was born, I thought that they might help me get you back. They just acted like they didn’t know me.” She laughed humorlessly, but he could clearly see the hurt that was hidden away in her blue eyes. He felt a wave of sadness crashing over himself suddenly as he felt more vulnerable than he had in a long time. 
“I’m sorry.” He told her seriously, still feeling like part of this was his fault. He wondered where she’d be in life if he was never born. He wondered if she would’ve stayed with Neil at all, or if she would’ve eventually found Sam and been happy with him. 
“I’m not,” She told him truthfully, “Even if they’re breathing, I buried them a long time ago.” She swatted her hand in the air, looking unbothered as she began to pick up her plate and the empty coffee cup. Billy took another sip of his, although he was beginning to feel like he didn’t need the extra caffeine.
“I think it would be hard to do that.” He admitted, feeling slightly like a hypocrite as he spoke. He knew that he had wished her dead a long time ago, thinking it would be easier to have her gone and out of his life. He wasn’t sure if he still wanted that anymore. She seemed to be genuine, no matter how hard he tried to deny that.  
“Perhaps,” She told him as she began to braid her hair back, “I guess it depends on the situation.” She said as she looked ahead, like she was trying to figure out what the situation was. He was suddenly curious for more information about her past, about what she’d done. 
“I never wanted to forgive you,” He told her a second later, “I don’t know if I really have. I’m just saying that maybe there’s still a chance for you guys.” He shrugged his shoulders, wondering if parents got better as they aged with time. He almost had to believe that it was true. 
“Maybe,” Rosemary smiled sweetly as she leaned forward to kiss his forehead, surprising him completely, “I’m glad that you’re giving us another chance.” She said quietly as a look of remorse crossed over her features again. Billy stared at her for a moment, his mind suddenly quiet from all thoughts. 
Billy didn’t have a chance to fully respond before Kim was dragging herself down the hallway. He felt his body straighten, his face brighten as he peered at her. She wore a simple white shirt that ended at her elbows and a bright blue skirt that brushed just above her knees. He admired her for a moment too long before he turned away, hoping that Rosemary hadn’t noticed. 
“Billy decorated,” Rosemary pointed out as she pulled another smile onto her lips, “Doesn’t it look nice?” She asked excitedly as she clasped her hands together. Kim blinked, looking like she had missed it completely as she turned to face the living room. 
“Oh wow,” Kim breathed out softly as her eyes scanned the decorations. Billy observed her, thinking that the orange lights created a nice glow in her eyes, “It looks incredible. You did a good job.” She smiled sweetly as she turned to face him. He felt his heart beating roughly inside of his chest, beating so hard that it might explode. 
“Thanks.” Billy responded as gripped a hold of the table, trying to keep himself anchored so he didn’t rush forward to kiss her. He had a sudden desire to make her feign being sick so she could stay with him. 
“I’m going to grab my purse and then we can go, alright?” Rosemary asked her as she glanced up towards Kim. Kim nodded her head, her eyes following as Rosemary left the room before she approached Billy. 
“What are you doing today?” Kim asked, glancing around before she leaned forward to kiss his lips. He grinned against the motions, suddenly forgetting what he had been thinking about. His mind had felt so full and vast this morning, his thoughts racing so badly that he had been unable to sleep. He felt another fresh surge of energy despite all the heavy lifting he’d done yesterday. 
“I thought about going for a jog, then maybe lift some weights,” Billy replied as he pushed his hair out of his face, “Do you think I should get a haircut?” He asked suddenly as he tilted his head. She looked at him taken aback. 
“What?” She searched for clarity as she looked over his features, like she couldn’t understand why he’d think that. He didn’t necessarily want to cut it, but he felt like a change in something would be nice. 
“Like cut it shorter?” He asked her again, wanting to know what she thought first. He didn’t want to cut it if she didn’t like it shorter. 
“No,” She told him truthfully as she ran her fingers through it, “I like the mullet.” She looked at him gently as her lips curled into a smile. The motions of her smile felt like it dug right through his flesh and landed directly in his chest. 
“Are you ready, Kim?” Rosemary asked, snapping Billy out of his thoughts again as he turned to look at Rosemary. She was smiling, looking anything but suspicious as Kim dropped her hand from his hair. 
“Yeah,” Kim squeaked out softly, “See you later.” She replied to Billy, looking like she wanted to say more before she turned on her heels and headed out with Rosemary. Rosemary wrapped an arm around her waist, giving her a soft squeeze before she was guiding Kim out and leaving Billy to himself.
He paused for a moment, his leg bouncing against the stool as he thought of where to begin next. He needed to do something to keep his mind occupied before everyone else woke up a few hours later. 
He started with refolding all of Rosemary’s quilts, before he inevitably decided it would just be good for him to start on his work out. His muscles still slightly burned from yesterday and moving all of the heavy furniture, but by the time he was done with his weights he was sure that he would be unbearably stiff tomorrow.
He worked next on organizing the garage, which didn’t take too long. They didn’t have a lot placed into the garage. Most of it was tubs of old items and lots of pictures that he assumed had to be Rosemary’s. He discovered she had a full photobook reserved for him when they’d visit the beach, but he neglected to look into it.
He found himself in the kitchen a little later, feeling like he could start on breakfast or something for them as they usually started to get up around this time. He felt like he was too jittery, full and alive and he had nothing to do with all this energy and motivation. It was like it was bubbling underneath his skin, still threatening to burst free. 
He could feel the pressure building in his skin, feeling so tight like it might explode. He felt like something was wiggling down deep beneath his skin, something that he was unable to see. He gripped the knife in his free hand, his thoughts on the edge of turning darker as he began to wonder if he could slice the jittery feelings free. 
“What are you making?” Max asked as she walked into the kitchen. Billy quickly dropped the knife, shaking his thoughts away. He turned to face her, noticing the inquisitive look on her features. 
“I don’t know yet,” He admitted as he turned from the knives, “What do you want?” He asked her, feeling a little excited that he was needed for something. She stretched out for a moment, her short hair wild and unruly from the sleep she’d just woken from. 
“An egg sandwich is fine with me,” Max said curiously as she sat down at the counter. He wrinkled his nose but did as she said, “Did you do all of this?” She asked as she jerked her hand towards the living room. He nodded his head, still feeling proud of what he’d done. “Yeah,” Billy grinned as he began to crack some eggs into the still hot pan, “I got a few masks for you too. I figured you’d want to go as something weird.” He told her honestly. He half expected her to go as Michael Myers again, but then decided it would be cool if she had something different to wear. 
“Thanks,” She said softly as she leaned over the counter to watch him, “Have you been feeling okay?” She asked casually, her blue eyes turning inquisitive. He felt a fresh wave of anger hit him suddenly, punching him so hard that he was speaking before he realized it. 
“Yes,” He snapped back before he inhaled deeply. Billy closed his eyes for a moment, growing a little frustrated with everyone that kept asking him that question, “I’m fine. Do you want it sunny side up?” He asked a little softer, feeling bad that he had snapped so quickly. It was like his emotions were running unchecked. 
“Uh sure,” Max nodded her head a second later, “That sounds fine with me.” She shrugged her shoulders as she tilted her head, still looking at him confused. The kitchen was suddenly loud as Russell raced his way inside, catching himself as he leaned up against the counter. Billy served Max her plate before he began to make one for Russell as well. 
“Can we work on Kim’s car again?” Russell asked eagerly, already bouncing up and down with energy. Billy wondered if Russell felt like this all the time. He looked at him, noticing how the bruise around his eye was darker. His lip looked better, however. 
“Maybe,” Billy responded quickly, “I wonder if she’d just like to get a new one.” He said quietly, more so to himself than anyone else. He had enough money to get her a car, but couldn’t think straight enough to really understand if she’d want that or not. 
“What?” Russell looked at him confused, “But dad just bought that one.” He tilted his head, still looking like he couldn’t understand Billy’s thoughts. Billy shrugged as he pushed a sandwich towards him. 
“It was just a thought,” Billy sighed, “Are you guys getting ready to go?” Max simply shrugged her shoulders again as she looked down at her plate. Billy didn’t know why he even bothered assembling a sandwich when she was currently working on taking it all apart and eating it one by one. 
“Almost,” Russell grinned as he walked around in the living room and pulled forth a large display, “Did you see my volcano I’m working on?” He asked, pointing it out dramatically so Billy couldn’t miss it. He nodded his head, sending Russell a little impressed look. 
“Neat,” Billy responded as he looked at the mess that was scattered along the display, “Do you get to blow it up?” He asked him curiously as he leaned against the counter. He wasn’t sure why he felt so social suddenly, but he had an urge to talk about all of the science projects he’d done over the years as well. 
“Not yet,” Russell peeped up nervously, “I get to at my science fair in a few weeks. Will you come?” He asked hopefully, his blue eyes wide as he rocked back and forth on his feet. Billy glanced at him then at the volcano again. 
“When is it?” He asked softly as he remembered all the times he’d hopefully asked Neil to join him at sports games, only to get shut down every time. He wasn’t sure that Russell had ever experienced that before, but Billy felt like he couldn’t be the one to start it. 
“After Halloween, before Thanksgiving,” Russell shrugged his shoulders as he set it down, “I’ll have to check the date again.” He said slowly, like he thought the answer might suddenly appear to him. 
“Sure,” Billy nodded his head, “I think I can go.” He told him casually as he began to scrub the hot pan clean. He glanced over his shoulder, examining the smile that grew ear to ear on Russell’s face. 
“Are you kids ready?” Sam asked as he walked from the hallway. Billy didn’t quite understand how Sam worked so much, but then maybe he did. He figured he’d also work all the time if all he could think about was drinking. 
“Yeah,” Max responded as she leaned backwards to give Sam a tight hug, “Are we doing anything after?” She asked him curiously as she looked up towards him. Sam smiled as he brought his hand down on her messy hair. 
“Rosemary said something about going shopping if you want to,” Sam offered gently, “Otherwise I suppose we could do something else. Like go skating for a bit?” He suggested, looking quite happy as a smile broke onto Max’s lips. 
“I’d like that,” She said honestly as she stood up quickly, “Let’s get this over with then.” She said eagerly as she yanked on Sam’s hand, trying to pull him further and further towards the door. He laughed as he sent Billy a small wave, signaling their farewell.
“Can I get my own skateboard?” Russell began to ask Sam curiously as they headed out the front door. Billy paused for a moment as the silence in the house kicked in, almost swallowing him completely. 
He began to scrub at the dishes that had been used, but that still wasn’t enough to keep his jittery feelings at bay. His mind was racing again and he knew there was no point in staying here. He decided he’d go for a run, perhaps burn off all the extra energy that was lingering deep inside of him. 
He pushed his hair up into a blue scrunchie, not really caring who saw him with it in his hair at this point. He set off quickly, but also tried to keep himself in place so he didn’t look like a mad man. He enjoyed the feeling of the sun hitting down against his body, like the rays were gently kissing his skin. 
“Stupid motherfucker,” A girl cursed, roughly dragging her bike to the side of her as she pushed it up the hill, “Piece of shit.” She continued to curse as Billy jogged past her. He paused for a moment before he turned towards her, watching the way she blew a messy strand out from her forehead. 
“Need help?” Billy asked as he began to jog backwards, “What happened?” He asked curiously, listening to the odd sound her bike was making as she continued to push it up the hill. She looked up at him irritated, her dark eyes flashing. She was clearly overdressed, apparently not expecting the morning to be so hot. 
She straightened out a little bit, her skin was a soft brown that nearly looked golden in the sun. Her outfit was darker, slightly too baggy for her slim frame. She raised her eyebrows, looking like she didn’t know why he was still there. 
“My stupid tire is jacked up,” She huffed out as she continued to push it up the hill, “I’ll figure it out.” She brushed him off, sending him another odd look as she continued to heave it up the hill. Billy stopped his movements, not caring to see her struggle with it anymore. 
“I can fix it,” He told her eagerly, “I don’t live far away either.” He told her honestly as he gestured down to the edge of the street. She watched where he gestured, still looking quite uncertain.
“Do you live there alone?” She looked at him inquisitively, like she was trying to figure out what he wanted. He had no plans on doing anything wrong, he just thought that it would be good to help. 
“No, I live with my mom and her husband,” He told her honestly, “And my sister and brother.” He mumbled underneath his breath, feeling like it was best to keep Kim in her own separate category. He took the bike from her easily, lifting it up with one hand as he turned back towards the house. 
“Okay,” She spoke in confusion as she jogged to keep up with him, “You’re not trying to steal my bike?” She asked him, sounding a little worried at that thought. He glanced down at her bike, noticing that the red paint was chipped and slowly fading away. 
“I have a car, why would I need this old thing?” He pointed out happily, motioning towards the blue beauty that was growing closer and closer. He wondered if he should was his car later. That would probably buy him some time. 
“Thanks,” She muttered underneath her breath, “I appreciate it.” She continued to struggle to keep up for a moment before she finally fell in line with him. She stood at his eye level, basically the same height as him as he began to walk up towards the garage. 
He punched in the code to it before he waited for it to slowly open. Once it was up high enough he ducked his head down and made his way inside, searching for the tool box that he had moved earlier. He hummed to himself, before realizing that it was oddly quiet within the garage. 
“What are you doing?” He questioned her, tilting his head as he peered at how far away she was standing. Her dark eyes glazed over him, narrowing like she was trying to see if he was hiding something. 
“Trying to figure out if you’re trying to kill me.” She admitted slowly, speaking softly like she’d realized she shouldn’t have shared that information. Billy felt his eyebrow raise as he began to position her bike in the correct way. 
“If I was going to kill you would I take you to my house?” He asked her as he tried to keep a snort at bay. He couldn’t really see what was odd about this situation. He was just trying to be friendly, to be polite. 
“I don’t know,” She said slowly, “You’re very odd.” She moved a little closer, one slow step at a time like she was trying to test the waters. Billy innocently held up a wrench, waving it so she could see it clearly before he began to mess with the chain on her bike. 
“Thanks,” Billy responded dryly, “Just sit down while I fix your damn bike.” He told her seriously, rolling his eyes this time as he started to work on it. His mind was still buzzing despite his actions and his skin was beginning to feel tighter and tighter. He inhaled deeply, trying to keep his emotions at bay for a few minutes longer. 
“You’ve done this before?” She asked him curiously as she joined him on the floor. She crossed her legs as she began to push her messy curls from her forehead again. He nodded his head slowly before he answered. 
“My sister is reckless with her bike,” Billy answered truthfully, thinking about the many times he had fixed Max’s, “This won’t take long. Where are you heading?” He pondered for a moment. She paused, looking like she was unsure if she should tell him the truth or not. 
“I was trying to head to work.” She admitted a second later, clearly looking a little more relaxed. Billy nodded his head, unsure of why he was so desperate for some sort of conversation. He never minded being alone before, but something about today felt different. 
“What do you do?” He asked as he finished adjusting the chain. He spun the front wheel for a minute, checking to see if there were any visible holes or tears within the rubber. “I’m a tattoo artist, well, almost.” She said quickly, looking a little excited as she held her elbows over her knees. Billy stopped for a second, wondering if her art was any better than Dakota’s. 
“Do you know Dakota?” Billy paused as he tried to remember what her last name was, “I think Barnes is her last name.” He said slowly, hoping that he was getting it right. She was sort of hard to miss. Loud and brash and a little too overbearing. She was always in Billy’s space, but he didn’t think she meant anything bad by it. She just seemed oblivious, or so he hoped. 
“You act like this is a small town,” She laughed before she nodded her head in agreement, “I do know her though, I think. We have art realism together.” She moved her hands this time, clasping them together over her knees. 
“She’s not too bad.” Billy said a second later, although he barely knew her. Tommy seemed fairly interested in her, but Billy had a feeling that she had something going on with Chet. 
“She’s not a bad person,” She said quickly, “I would not let her tattoo me.” She said a little softer, smiling sheepishly like she was saying something bad. Billy nodded his head in agreement before he began to air her tire up.
“She’s pretty awful,” Billy replied with a laugh, “What’s your name? I’m Billy.” He introduced himself before he looked at her curiously, realizing that he hadn’t even bothered to ask. She shifted on the ground. “Alma,” She said as she sent him a wave, “How do I repay you?” She asked him, tilting her head as she peered at her bike as he set it back into its normal position. 
“I have a girlfriend so nothing like that.” He muttered underneath his breath, suddenly hoping that he hadn’t given her the wrong idea. She gaped, drawing his attention back towards her. 
“Jesus,” Alma’s features scrunched up, “I didn’t mean it like that.” She snapped at him, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe he’d said that. He smiled sheepishly, not bothering to mention that he had been offered that before. 
“You said you do tattoos?” Billy asked, “Can you get me in today? I can pay.” He told her eagerly, feeling like there was suddenly a hole burning in his pocket. He could clearly picture what he wanted. 
“I’m still an apprentice,” Alma warned him, “But I guess if that’s what you want.” She shrugged her shoulders, like she couldn’t see why it was such a bad idea. He felt a large grin forming on his lips as excitement bubbled inside of him. 
“I do,” Billy responded eagerly, “I can give you a ride there.” He promised her, thinking of how surprised Kim would be when she saw it. 
///////////////////////
“Hey,” Kim grinned as she walked into his room. She paused before she slowly rested against his right side, her fingertips narrowly avoiding his new tattoo, “What did you do today, handsome?” She teased him as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He breathed in her scent for a moment, thinking that she smelt extra sweet today. Perhaps, it had to do with the icing on her tongue. 
He started to speak, trying to explain his story of what happened today but then realized he was speaking too fast. Kim’s eyes widened as they danced over his features, her eyebrows knitted in confusion as she tried to keep up. He paused, giving himself a second to sort out the story within his mind as it kept racing through his head, “I fixed this girl's bike and I got a tattoo.” He summarized it as best as he could.
His skin no longer felt like it was threatening to pop and burst everywhere. He supposed he should’ve clarified that he’d gotten two tattoos, but the one on his right side against his ribs. The tattoo on his left hand was smaller, just a geometric shape that traced from his thumb up to his index finger. 
“You got a tattoo?” She looked at him surprised before a smile grew on her lips. He admired the curve of her mouth for a split second, feeling like he was so lucky to be able to kiss her lips and have her all to his own. 
“Do you want to see it?” He asked excitedly, feeling like he was bouncing with excitement as bad as Russell would. She nodded her head and Billy didn’t wait any longer before he was pulling his shirt up over his head. He gestured towards it, unable to fully reach it on his own without looking in a mirror. 
“Sure,” Kim grinned, looking excited as she slowly peeled the tape back to expose the ink, “Billy. Oh my God. What is this?” She was stunned, her voice nearly sounding horrified as she stared at the ink again. He felt a little panicked, wondering if Alma had messed up on something that he’d missed. 
“You don’t like it?” He turned in concern, looking in the mirror as he faced away from Kim. He couldn’t see what was wrong with it. The drawing of a girl was sitting with her knees together, her longs dangling as she rested her cheek up against her shoulder. Her hair was thick and long, a deep red. He thought it looked nice. 
“Is that supposed to be me?” She squeaked out softly, her cheeks beginning to turn pink as Billy turned to face her again. He paused for a moment, unsure of how he was supposed to answer her question when she was reacting this way. 
“Is it a bad thing if I say yes?” He asked her seriously, trying to keep his shoulders from slumping as he pushed the bandage back over his skin. He jolted a bit, wincing softly at the sore area he’d pressed on. 
“No,” She responded quickly as her face turned scarlet, “But what will your mom say?” She asked him softly as she stepped forward to gently rub the tape down against his skin again. He grinned as he looked towards her. 
“She won’t see it,” Billy reassured Kim, “Or maybe she’ll think it’s some other hot redhead.” He teased her as he leaned forward to gently press his lips against hers. She moved her lips against his softly, her cheeks feeling warm from how red they were. 
“Oh my God,” Kim squeaked out as she traced her fingertips along the tape again, “What has gotten into you?” She smiled softly as she looked up at him, suddenly looking a little pleased with herself. 
“I’m just happy,” Billy grinned as she leaned forward to peck her lips repeatedly, “So happy.” He mumbled against her lips, leaning forward to deepen the kiss a little bit. He slid his tongue against her mouth, desperate to feel more of her against him suddenly. 
“Mhm,” Kim grinned against his mouth, “They did a good job on it.” She told him shyly, looking like she wasn’t sure how to compliment the design. He chuckled softly as he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. 
“Yeah?” Billy grinned at her, “Maybe I need to get another one.” He said teasingly as he held his hand out towards her. Her eyes widened as she looked at it. She gently wrapped her nimble fingers around his palm as she observed the area for a second, like she was trying to build the confidence to look at it. 
“God,” Kim breathed in deeply as she slowly pulled the wrapper back. She sighed in relief a second later, making Billy laugh. He had considered getting her eyes on his body much too late into his session. He wished he would’ve brought a picture of her, “I thought it might be my boobs or something.” She teased him.
“I could do that,” He encouraged her with a bright smile, “I should pin up your nude photos.” He said a second later, figuring that this was his room and he could do what he wanted. Neil never said anything about having pictures of models up in bikinis, but he somehow figured that Sam wouldn’t be too happy about it. 
“No,” She replied before he was finished speaking, her cheeks burning brightly, “That still sounds like a terrible idea.” She shook her head, like she could somehow shake the thoughts from his mind. 
“I can’t help that I'm crazy about you.” He told her truthfully, feeling like she was on his mind all the time. She felt similar to his favorite album, the one he couldn’t stop playing. He could think about her constantly and never grow bored. 
“Maybe you’re just crazy,” She teased as she leaned forward to press her lips against his nose, “Come on. They were asking about you.” She urged him softly, giving his fingertips a slight squeeze before she slowly backed out of the room. She grinned at him, her face lighting up brightly before she slipped out the door. 
Billy chewed on his bottom lip, hiding his own grin as he slipped his shirt on over his head and followed her back down the hall. He peered around curiously, noticing that Max and Russell were lounged out on the couch, passing his controller back and forth for whatever game he was playing.
Billy peeked out the glass doors, trying not to roll his eyes as he noticed Sam and Rosemary sitting near his little garden. He wasn’t sure how they could be so passionate about gardening of all things. 
“Max,” Kim grumbled as she pulled her notebook out, “What did you do? Don’t mess with my homework.” She told her quickly, looking a little horrified as she scanned the pages. 
“Why would I mess with your homework?” Max asked in irritation, snapping her head around quickly before she turned her attention back towards the TV. Billy leaned against one of the chairs as he watched Kim shake her head in dismay. 
“It was me,” Billy said a second later, “I thought I would help out.” He added slowly, unsure if he had really helped now by the look on Kim’s features. She was clearly surprised as she held her notebook tightly in her hands. 
“You did my math homework?” Kim questioned as she walked towards him. She looked up from her notebook curiously, tilting her head like she couldn’t understand why he’d done it. He shrugged his shoulders, knowing that he had spent much of the night desperate to get his mind off of things. 
“Yeah, why not?” He asked as he tugged softly on the tablecloth, “I didn’t have anything else to do. Is it wrong?” He questioned her in worry, feeling like he’d ruined his chance at helping her. She shook her head rapidly, looking a little alarmed at his brash tone. 
“No, it’s right,” She reassured him quickly, “Your handwriting just looks different.” She mumbled, more to herself before she closed the notebook quickly. She examined it for a while before she looked back up at him, her features still knitted together in confusion. She sent him a soft, reassuring smile that quickly calmed the way his chest was beginning to race in panic. 
“What did you get?” Max asked, holding her hand out lazily as Billy began to walk by. He stopped, letting her roughly pry the tape back as she examined the black ink, “That’s cool.” She shrugged her shoulders quickly before she dropped his hand again.
“I like it,” Russell spoke up a second later, averting his eyes from Max as he inspected the design on Billy’s hand, “It’s really awesome.” He added to Max’s sentence, looking a little proud of himself.
“Thanks.” Billy drew out softly as he plopped himself down next to Kim. She smiled softly, although her eyes were a little wide as she placed some distance between the two of them. He tried to keep from grumbling as he watched her, sure that she was beginning to act weird. 
He inspected her, trying to figure out if he’d done something wrong or if she was really uncomfortable with the tattoo he’d gotten of her. He thought that was a silly thought though. Alma had just drawn a pinup girl that was similar to Kim’s looks, it was nothing that was done based off of a picture. 
“Jesus,” Billy couldn’t take it anymore as he placed his hand on top of Russell’s to stop the annoying movements, “Can you stop that, please?” He questioned him, snapping a little harsher than he’d realized. The room was suddenly quiet. 
“Sorry,” Russell flushed suddenly, “It’s just a habit.” He squeaked out, his blue eyes wide like he hadn’t expected Billy to react in that way. Max shot Billy a look of disbelief, but Billy couldn’t function because of the irritation that had grown inside of him. 
“It’s fine,” Kim leaned over Billy to give Russell’s hand a soft squeeze, “Did you tell Billy about the odd couple that came in today?” She questioned, looking up at Billy amused as she continued to lay over his lap for a brief second. 
He observed her features for a second, noticing the confusion that was lingering in the crevices of her eyebrows as he slowly relaxed. He leaned back in the seat, unsure of why he’d suddenly grown so angry. He felt better as a soft relief filled him while Russell began to fill Billy in on the bakery drama. 
/////////////////////
“You know what we should do,” Billy said suddenly as he glanced towards Kim, laying on the side of her bed as the night sky grew darker and darker, “Get married.” He told her seriously, keeping his eyes peeled to her features so he could tell what she thought about his grand idea. 
“What?” Her hazel eyes were wide in disbelief as a stunned expression grew over her features. She opened her mouth, then shut it again like she still couldn’t believe what she had said. 
“Why not?” He asked her quickly, “We love each other.” He stated, feeling like this would be the proper thing to do. He thought that things would be a lot better if they were married. She slowly relaxed as she moved a little closer to him. 
“Your mom doesn’t know first of all,” Kim laughed as she held onto his hands, “And where would we get married at?” She questioned him, looking just as serious as she asked the question. He ponder about it for a moment. 
“The courthouse.” He said simply, wondering if they could sneak down there tonight and get it over with. He supposed that it was probably too late and that they would have to wait for the morning sun to rise before they could do it. 
“What would I wear?” She asked him, her question full of humor as she held onto his eye contact. He tucked her hair behind her ear, gently stroking her cheek as he admired her features. He thought that she could wear anything and be pretty in it. 
“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing now?” He asked her seriously as he took in her polka dotted nightgown. Kim slightly pouted her lip out, shaking her head in a playful disbelief. 
“I want a wedding dress,” She said at last, “One that’s got the puffy shoulders and is big and white. I want to look like a princess.” She told him eagerly, her eyes flashing like she’d thought about this for a long time. He paused, realizing that she probably had spent a long time planning it out. He wasn’t surprised at her wanting to look like a princess, not one bit. 
“You always do,” He grinned as he pulled her into his lap, “Let’s just go buy one and then we can go to the courthouse.” He rubbed her hips softly, watching the way her nightgown crept up higher and higher along her smooth thighs. He tried to bury the image of his head between them, but could feel his cock stirring at the thought. 
“With what money?” She asked him playfully, still laughing like he was suggesting something ridiculous. She played with his hair gently, while he turned towards her seriously. 
“I can use my check.” He stated as he nodded his head. She observed him for a long second, like she just realized that he was being completely serious. He didn’t think there was anything funny about what he’d just suggested to her. 
“Can we like-,” She paused for a second, “Think this out first?” She gestured with her hands as she sat back on his lap, suddenly looking a little panicked like she had approached this whole situation wrong. 
“What’s there to think about?” He asked her seriously, “It’s a great idea.” He pulled her a little closer, wishing that there was a way to share his thoughts with her. He struggled with words, but he knew that this was a good idea.
She rubbed her hands up and down his bicep gently, looking like she was trying to figure out the best way to approach this subject. She was quiet as she held onto his skin, chewing on her bottom lip as she turned to look at him again. 
“I want to marry you,” She replied gently as she pressed her fingertips against his, “But I think we need to figure out other things first. Like how to tell your mom. What if they don’t want us to live with them once we’re married? What if she won’t let us be together?” She explained gently, drawing out her words slowly so he could better understand what she meant. He felt a frown forming on his lips, feeling like she may be acting a little ridiculous. 
“She has no authority over anything I do.” He told Kim sternly as he thought about Rosemary. He didn’t care if she had issues with them or not. He was happy and he knew Kim was happy. That’s all that mattered in his mind. 
“I know, I know,” Kim whispered softly, trying to bring his tone down, “I’m just saying we don’t have to rush it.” She scooted forward a bit to grip his face lightly. She squished his face in her hands, grinning softly like she was trying to make him feel better. 
“Is it because I haven’t bought you a ring? Because I can buy one right now.” He told her seriously. He furrowed his eyebrows together, wondering if he should’ve grabbed a ring instead of a bracelet the other day. 
“I think-,” Kim paused again, looking like she was searching for the right thing to say, “That maybe you’re not thinking straight.” She breathed out slowly, looking a little worried as she rubbed her thumbs into his skin. He felt himself sinking back against the bed in confusion. 
“I’ve never thought better than what I have right now,” He told her in defense of himself, knowing that his mind wasn’t jumbled, “My thoughts are free and I’m free.” He said quickly as he gestured towards himself. 
“Are you okay?” She observed him curiously, her hazel eyes flashing as she watched him intensely. She looked worried, like there really was something wrong. He suddenly felt on edge, not enjoying the way she seemed to be analyzing him. He leaned back again, not understanding what could be so wrong about his behavior.  
“Yeah,” Billy looked at her confused, “Why do you ask?” He tilted his head, trying to understand what the problem was. Kim hesitated, looking like she was torn to bring the subject up for a moment. He nudged her thighs softly with his fingers, wanting to draw the words from her lips. 
“You seem like you’re on edge,” Kim said finally as she observed his features, “Did you take more mushrooms?” She asked him softly, curiously like she was worried about what the answer would be. He shook his head, thinking that she was too paranoid. 
“No,” He laughed, “You said not to take anymore, remember?” He teased her as he rubbed his fingertips across her skin. In all honesty, he hadn’t taken any drugs since that night. He was just being more of himself, which he didn’t think was wrong. 
“I do,” She nodded her head, “You just seem different.” She looked worried as she spoke up again, still looking like she was afraid of how he’d react. He tried to hide his offense, because he knew this was who he really was. She hadn’t seen this part of him enough. 
“I’m happy,” Billy replied briskly, “Is that a crime?” He asked her quickly as he dropped his hands from her sides. Her eyes widened as she shook her head quickly, like she was trying to do damage control. 
“I didn’t mean that,” She reassured him quickly, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and that there's nothing else going on.” She said urgently as she brought his hands back up towards his lips. He relaxed a second later, grinning as he squeezed at her flesh again. 
“I am,” He told her seriously as he leaned forward to kiss her lips slowly, “I am very okay.” He mumbled against her lips, sighing deeply at the scent of her that lingered in the air. He gave her lips another soft peck before he pulled away. 
“Alright,” She grinned as she rubbed her fingertips across his cheeks, “I’m glad you’re okay.” She nodded her head softly as she began to trace her fingers across his skin. He leaned into her touch, enjoying how she felt against his skin. 
He leaned forward, breathing in the sweet taste of her mouth before he brought his lips upon hers again. He kissed her feverishly, like he’d never kiss her again. His mind raced at the thought of losing her, his heart aching as he pressed his lips even harder to her mouth. She moaned softly in response, her back pressing up against the wall as she struggled to keep up with his actions.  
She pulled away first, breathing hard as she rested her forehead against his. He sighed softly, leaning forward again to lick at her glossed lips. The desire to feel her grew deeper and deeper as he traced his fingers down her soft sides. She was sweeter than candy, more addictive than the cigarettes he smoked. 
“Do you want to go to mass with me?” He asked suddenly, speaking the idea out loud as soon as the thought popped into his head. Kim looked at him curiously, her cheeks still pink from how roughly they’d been kissing. 
“Mass?” She paused as she rolled off of his lap, “Like church?” She asked, sounding a little unsure as she watched him. He nodded his head a second later, thinking about how she’d never been before. 
“Yeah,” He grinned, “I figured you could try it and see how you like it.” He reasoned with her as he brought her fingertips up to his mouth and began to pepper kisses along them. She smiled softly for a second before she pulled away. 
“I don’t know,” She looked away from him, “I guess if you want to go.” She shrugged her shoulders softly. Billy paused for a moment, clearly able to tell that she wasn’t that comfortable with the idea. 
“I’m asking if you want to go.” He clarified for her as he shifted on the bed so he could face her better. She tilted her head back and forth as she ran the thought through her mind again. 
“Next Sunday is the day after the Halloween party,” She reminded him, “Are you going to be able to wake up?” She teased him softly as she moved in a little closer. He grinned as he kissed her soft nose. 
“Of course,” He grinned as he pulled away from her, “The real question is if you’ll be able to wake up.” He told her seriously, thinking about how she liked to sleep in. Then again, her sleeping schedule still seemed to be fucked. Just not as nearly bad as what his sleeping habits currently were. 
“Is that what you were doing this morning? Praying?” She asked him as she tilted her head in confusion. He thought about it for a moment, nearly forgetting that it had happened before he nodded his head. He realized she must’ve been up far earlier than he had thought, as he had done that in his room. 
“Yeah, you know I was thinking about those dreams that you have,” He rambled for a moment as he tried to get his thoughts concise and clear, “Do you think they’re demons?” He tilted his head in wonder, suddenly feeling uneasy as he brought his feet up from off the floor. 
“Demons?” Kim looked at him baffled, like she wasn’t understanding what he was saying. He thought for a moment, trying to think of the best way to explain his own thoughts. 
“Like because you never really went to church and because of what we do,” He said a second later, “Do you think we’re being punished for it?” He asked her seriously, suddenly feeling worried. He’d never felt shame about their relationship before, but the thought of God watching them suddenly made him nervous. 
“No,” She shook her head quickly, “I never thought of it that way, but I’m sure that’s not what it is.” She said softly, looking like she was a little fearful over the thought. Billy paused as he rocked himself back and forth. 
“Why not?” He questioned her seriously. He didn’t mean to push the issue, but he really was curious to know what her thoughts were. He was fairly certain that if she repented, if they both did, that these issues would go away. 
“Because there’s worse people that haven’t been punished.” She said at last, looking at him seriously. He held his hands together as the words washed over him. He nodded his head in agreement, realizing that she was right. Not that he would really argue with her, she looked fairly stern in her answer. He had a feeling she had no desire to discuss the issue any further.
“That’s true,” He agreed a second later, suddenly feeling reassured, “I forgot about that.” He admitted softly as he scratched at his chin. He felt a sense of relief, but feared that he’d lose it if he lost focus of her. 
“Billy,” She leaned forward a little bit as she held her palms against her knees, “I want to ask you something but I don’t want you to get upset.” She admitted at last, taking him a bit by surprise. He nodded his head, not wanting her to hide her thoughts from him out of fear of him growing angry. 
“Okay,” He said slowly as he watched her curiously, “What is it?” He asked softly as he pulled her hands over to his lap. He played with her fingers softly, rubbing his nails gently against her palms. She lowered her voice as she leaned towards him. 
“Are you taking something?” She whispered cautiously, “I know we didn’t discuss it much before but if you’re having problems with drugs, I can help.” She linked their fingers together, squeezing softly as she looked at him. He moved his head back a soft, feeling a little offended that she would suggest a thing. 
“I’m not taking any drugs,” He said roughly, snapping harder than what he should've. He didn't think it was lying at the moment, because he really hadn't taken any drugs. She wasn't asking for specifics and that was fine with him, “I’m fine. I feel relaxed and free. I’ve never been this happy before.” He told her quickly, still wishing there was an easier way to explain this to her. She sighed deeply as she nodded her head, looking a little relieved as she brought his hand up to her lips this time. 
“It just changed so fast,” She smiled slowly, “I just want to make sure you’re okay.” She repeated the words from earlier as she softly nuzzled her head against his hand, careful to avoid the area that was sore. 
“Do I look like something is wrong?” He teased her softly, smiling brightly as he could assure her that he was fine. She bit her lip softly as she leaned even closer to him. 
“You’re just not acting yourself,” She mumbled as she cupped his face gently in her hands, “And I want to make sure you know you can talk to me.” She said a second later before she delivered a kiss to his nose. He wrinkled it softly as he nodded his head. He felt slightly guilty as he knew he had been lying to her. He supposed this could be considered a fresh start. 
“You can talk to me too,” He pointed out a little harsher, “You came home drunk the other night after being with your friends.” He told her truthfully as he thought about it. Her eyes widened and her face flushed, like she hadn’t expected him to know. He didn’t mind, nor was he mad about it. But she had clearly tried to keep it a secret.
“I had a few drinks,” She admitted, “Is that wrong?” She asked him honestly, looking like she truly didn’t know the answer to that question. He suddenly felt bad for confronting her about the situation. 
“No,” He told her quickly, “But you act like it’s a bad thing.” He told her truthfully. She paused as she thought about it, looking like she didn’t know how to handle his statement. 
“You saw how my dad got,” She mumbled as she played with the hem of her night gown, “I just don’t want to ruin things for him.” She revealed the truth to him. Billy brushed his shoulder against hers, giving a soft smile as he tried to gain her attention again. 
“It’s alright,” He told her truthfully, not thinking that there was anything wrong with her wanting to drink occasionally, “Can you wear the lingerie?” He asked quickly. He supposed he should’ve clarified, but he wouldn’t mind seeing her in it right now. 
“I can’t,” She laughed, “I’m on my period.” She told him softly as she rested against him. He grinned as he pulled her a little closer, feeling like she was silly for using that excuse. 
“I don’t mind,” He told her quickly as he peppered his lips across her face, “We can sneak into the bathroom if you want.” He pressed the issue softly as he rubbed his hands down her slender curves. He enjoyed the way she felt in his hands and craved to feel more of it. 
“Would you have to confess that to your priest too?” She questioned in a sultry tone as she playfully ran her fingers through his hair. He enjoyed the sensation as he lightly closed his eyes, enjoying how soft her fingers were. 
“Yes,” He answered honestly, “We would. I don’t think it’s any worse than being with your sister.” He said a second later. He laughed to himself, wondering how the priest would react to that revelation. 
“Stepsister,” She corrected him shyly, “I’d prefer to be called your girlfriend though.” She told him quickly, looking like she was insecure suddenly. He frowned at the thought, hoping that he hadn’t offended her. 
“I don’t care about the label,” He admitted to her slowly, “I don’t care who you’re related to or what you do. I just want you.” He cupped her face, giving her soft cheeks a slight squeeze as he peered down at her. 
“Okay,” She mumbled softly as she began to brush her fingertips against the hem of his pajama pants, “I can help you out?” She suggested softly as she began to tug the waistband of his pants down. He grinned as he slowly moved away. 
“How?” He asked her as he held her back, holding her softly. Her hazel eyes flashed, looking at him full of lust. He drank in the image, watching the way her teeth lightly dragged against her plump bottom lip. 
“I’ll make you feel good.” She said slyly as she slowly rolled her wrist around in his palm, like she was ready to grab a hold of him. He pretended to ponder the thought. 
“By doing what?” He teased her softly, needing to hear her say it outloud. He turned his gaze towards her, his eyelids feeling heavy as he peered down at her. 
“Sucking your cock.” She replied shyly, her cheeks beginning to turn pink as she slowly moved to her knees in front of him. She leaned forward, her boobs pressing against his knees as she watched him. He felt his cock beginning to stir, quickly filling out as he thought about how badly he wanted her. 
“You’re not even going to ask?” He continued to tease her, “Just going to do it like a little whore.” She whimpered softly at his words, her cheeks burning darker as she leaned even closer to him. He had a sudden urge to strip her nightgown from her pale skin. 
“Can I suck your cock?” She asked sweetly, her tone sultry as she peered up at him innocently. She fluttered her eyelashes as she traced her fingertips up and down his thighs. He felt goosebumps beginning to form from her touch. 
“Hm.” He mocked being bored, beginning to really enjoy the strain in his pants. He breathed out slowly, watching the way she straddled one of his ankles. He smirked to himself, clearly noticing how her excuse of being on her period was slowly disappearing. 
“I want to suck my big brother’s cock,” She whispered as she slowly palmed him, “Please.” She pouted her lips out and he was unable to hold himself back any longer. He nodded his head in agreement, watching the way she slowly pulled his pants down. He lifted his hips softly, assisting her as his cock popped free from its restraints.
“Wow,” She giggled softly, looking gleeful like this was the first time she’d seen it. She wrapped her slender fingers around his cock slowly, giving him a soft squeeze as she watched the precum drip from his tip. He sighed deeply, jerking his hips forward as he enjoyed the sensation, “So pretty.” She teased him softly. 
“I think you’re a slut,” He admitted honestly, breathing out deeply as she slowly wrapped her lips around his tip. He fluttered his eyes shut, his mind falling empty as she began to bob her head up and down the length of his cock, “Jesus.”
She fluttered her eyelashes for a moment before she peered up at him again, her eyebrows softly wrinkling together as she began to slowly move his cock inside of her mouth. The pad of her tongue brushed along his veins, pressing into them softly. He knitted his fingers through her hair, feeling a bit desperate to have her move faster.
She slowly took more of him, teasing him as she didn’t press her lips further than the middle of his cock. He groaned as her fingers moved to cup his balls, squeezing them softly as she sucked on the head of his cock again. She dragged her tongue across his slit, licking at it playfully before she slid his cock deeper inside of her mouth again. 
He pressed his hips up deeper in her mouth, tugging on her hair a little harder as he took control of her movements. He breathed out harshly, suddenly feeling a strong wave of pleasure crashing over him. He grunted loudly, the sound of her gags sounding like music in his ears. 
He played with her hair, holding onto it tighter as he freely bobbed her head along his cock. He liked how easily she gave into him, how he let her control her for his own pleasure. He could feel his cock twitch in her mouth as she hollowed her cheeks out. 
He looked down at her, watching the way her features knitted together in concentration as the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat. He sighed blissfully as she began to hum around his girth, sending a wave of vibrations up the length of his cock.
“Fuck,” He whined, sounding a little pathetic as he jerked his hips forward rapidly. He moved off the bed, feeling like he’d have better control standing as he moved her mouth faster along his cock. He was sure he’d never felt this good before, “You’re such a good baby sister.”
She moaned softly around his cock, looked up at him with knitted eyebrows as her eyes filled further with lust. He smirked to himself, dragging his tongue across his teeth at the realization of how easily he affected her. 
Kim gripped his thighs tightly, squeezing as he continued to roughly pull jerk her mouth along his cock. He grunted a little louder, his mind blazing with want as he pressed his balls against her pouty lips. She gagged loudly, spit falling from her lips as she stared up at him.
He admired the way her face was getting darker, how her gags came out higher pitched as he roughly pressed into her mouth. He couldn’t focus on anything other than the pleasure that he was feeling suddenly.
Her moans became muffled from his cock as his tip repeatedly slammed into the back of her throat. He groaned at how wet and warm her mouth felt, how heavy his cock felt against her tongue. He wished he could fit all of his cock inside of her mouth, to feel the sensation of her mouth everywhere. 
“Fuck, fuck,” He cursed, cumming harshly down her throat far too early. She gagged, coughing a little as she pulled away. She squeezed her eyes shut as she roughly gulped his spunk down. He groaned as he fell back onto the bed, feeling exhausted suddenly, “Shit, was that too much?” He questioned her, suddenly realizing how forward his motions were.
“No,” She giggled as she crawled up the bed to join him, her lips swollen as she looked at him with wide eyes, “I like when you treat me like that.” She admitted, making his lips curl into a smirk as he pulled her onto the bed. He wiped at the corner of her lips, admiring the way the drool was beginning to slide from her mouth. 
He curled up behind her, pulling her close to his chest as he breathed in her sweet scent. He listened to her deep breaths before it slowly fell soft. He peered around her shoulder, surprised at how quickly she’d fallen asleep. 
He held her closer, wishing he could join her. His thoughts felt loud again, running wild as he did his best to rest against her. He just wasn’t tired. He was sure it would hit him eventually. 
It had been so long since Billy had felt this happy and joyful that he was suddenly afraid. He was afraid that it would all come crashing down like it always did. He didn’t want to go back to being bitter and confused. He wanted to stay just like this.
He could afford coke but it was expensive, and it never lasted enough for him to feel high like this all the time. He wanted something to keep his mind away, to keep his heart fluttering and to keep the smile on his lips.
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goat-and-a-pig · 8 months ago
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Chapter 28
Stan stabbed Ford’s eyeball. “No!” Ford cried out, but it was too late. Stan’s hand fell to the floor as his eyes rolled back into his head. Ford desperately searched for a pulse, but found none. He dropped his head in despair.
Meanwhile, Bill had his own thing going on.
“What’s happening? Wait- No! No, no, no, no, NO!” He screamed. Ford looked back at him with his good eye. Bill appeared to be glitching. Bill looked at his hands and screamed, “Curse the Axolotl!” Ford put his hand over his bleeding eyeball and backed Bill into a corner near the window. “Time to say goodbye for good, Bill Cipher.” He pushed him out of the window. Bill screamed and faded away. Ford shuddered, then ran back to Stan.
“Stan, please! I- I can’t-” He placed his hands over Stan’s gut and began to chant.
“A-X-O-L-O-T-L!
This human has been- killed-
I invoke the ancient power that he may return!”
Nothing happened.
Ford bowed his head and began to cry. He couldn’t save Stan without Bill’s power now that Bill was gone. He should’ve known it wouldn’t work.
A single tear mixed with his blood and fell onto Stan’s stomach and began to glow. Ford heard the phantom echo of Bill’s mocking laughter. He shuddered. Stan opened his eyes. “Wh-what’s going on here? Sixer?” The color returned to his cheeks. Ford laughed out of relief. “Stanley! Thank goodness! I thought you were gone for good…”
Stan coughed. “Yeah, usually that’s what happens when someone dies. Look, what time is it?” He checked his watch. “That’s fine, we’ve got about fifteen minutes until the kids open up the portal for us. We should get down there and get ready, okay?” They made their way down using Ford’s hair. Before they got started walking, Ford tugged on Stan’s sleeve.
“Could you, um, cut it? My hair? It like, gets in the way, and um, it reminds me of-” Stan waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever.” But Ford knew that he cared and understood what he was trying to say. Stan wiped off his dagger and sliced through Ford’s hair. He gasped. His head felt so much lighter! Stan continued to chop at it until it was nice and short. “You’re lucky you’ve got curly hair,” he grunted. “Makes it easier to look okay. Here.” He ripped off a strip of his shirt and tied it around Ford’s head, creating a makeshift eyepatch. “Thank you,” Ford said gratefully. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. C’mon.”
They set off again for the portal.
_____
Mabel was waiting for them when they got back. “Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford! You’re alright!” She broke into a relieved smile. Dipper frowned. “And covered in blood! And Ford, your eye!!! Stan?!? Are you two okay?!?” Mabel butted in. “Is he gone?” She asked nervously. Ford laughed at the range of emotions. “Yes, we’re fine, Dipper. Yes, Mabel, he’s gone.” She whooped. It was easy for Ford to forget sometimes that he wasn’t the only one abused.
Abused? Never! He took you in when- Aaagh! No! Stop it brain! He frowned involuntarily at his thoughts. Stan teared up beside him. “Kids!” He cried. “I’m so glad you’re both okay!” Mabel beamed and hugged him. Stan seemed taken aback, but eventually got Dipper and Ford into it too.
When they broke apart, Dipper spoke. “You guys get outta here and go to the Cuddly Plaidypus. We’ll meet you in an hour, okay? Oh, and it’ll be deserted. Don’t worry about it. They’re all just upstairs, fighting.”
Ford crouched. “Be safe, okay? I can’t have anything happening to my favorite grandniece and nephew.” They smiled at each other.
Then Stan and Ford set off for the Cuddly Plaidypus.
_____
When they got there, the place was indeed deserted except for a boy. “Hello, I’m Robbie, I’ll be taking your order for toni-” He froze when he saw who was there. Clearly he hadn’t forgotten about ratting Stan out. “You can leave,” Stan said tiredly. Robbie bolted out the door. They set up at a small table. I’ve got some questions,” Ford said.
“Hit me,” Stan replied.
He decided to start off with an easier one. “I think I’m the second oldest, so who’s our older brother? Or are you the oldest and our mysterious third brother is the youngest? Why isn’t the oldest the king? Why me?”
Stan breathed out. “You sure know how to start a conversation,” he said dryly. “I’m the youngest, actually. Shermie is the older, other brother.” Shermie’s face clicked into place with some memories attached. “He was going to be king, but he decided to get married to the princess of Pied Mount instead. She was an only child, so he went to rule with her and the throne was left to you. He’s Dipper and Mabel’s grandpa. My turn.”
Ford processed  all of the information, then heard the last sentence. “Huh?”
“I’ve got questions for you too! How did you remember?” Ford absentmindedly ran his hand through his newly shorn hair. “I was looking through the journals and recognized my handwriting. I realized I wrote the journals, and by extension, that I was the king. I remembered my first act as king, you getting thrown out, and us playing when we were boys. Did we want to be knights?”
“Yep, that was the dream. When we learned you were going to be king, it had to evolve, but it just meant you were gonna be head of the country and I was gonna be head of the guard, until…” He drifted off. “It wasn’t your fault,” Ford said fiercely. “I remember that much.”
Stan laughed. “But it was. It was all my fault. Dad made sure that I knew it. I’m the one who broke your machine, therefore it’s all my fault.” Ford grabbed Stan’s hand. “If you’re going to play it that way, then fine! I forgive you.” Stan blinked rapidly. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Ahem. Um, so is that all, or what?” He asked gruffly.
“Just one.” Ford held up a finger. “Who is Fiddleford McGucket? Why do I get such strong emotions thinking about him? Oops, I guess that was two.” He laughed sheepishly. Stan grimaced. “Oh boy, here we go… I have a feeling we’ll be leaving soon after this. Better keep your shoes on.” But before he could delve into it (why was the entire multiverse trying to keep Ford from him?) Robbie ran back in. “Hi, I need to talk to you? It’s kind of important.”
“Just a few more minutes, Living Dead,” Stan grunted. Robbie quickly stepped away again.
“Anyway, Fiddleford McGucket was… is… your husband.” Stan scratched his head.
It all came back in a flash. Meeting him, dating him, marrying him…
Leaving him.
He stood up all at once, nearly knocking over the table. “Let’s go now! I’ve got to get back to him at once!” His emotions choked him. “Whoa, whoa, hold your horses- Mabel and Dipper will be back soon. Let’s at least wait for them. Okay?” Ford nodded mutely as Robbie came back in. “What do you want?!?” Stan shouted irritably. Robbie gulped, then bowed.
“Your majesty, I think I can help you.”
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Text
Burn - a Magnus Archives fic
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An AU Somewhere Else - part of the Magnus Monsterverse series.
Spoilers for the whole podcast.
There's a lot to take in.
Jon is doing his best...
And so is Timothy Stoker.
AO3
------
I had only been free for a month and change.
It didn’t feel like a month and change. A thousand years felt like nothing, like one bad night’s sleep, filled with unpleasant dreams and little rest. A month and change, on the other hand—of physical therapy (because maybe I needed it?); of long, confusing tests: of questions I could not answer; of a hospital bed and beeping sounds; of learning to walk again like a normal person instead of some lurching beast; of communicating and speaking as an I and not a We or It…
That felt like a thousand years.
I dozed a little on Martin’s shoulder on the way back. Was it actual sleep? I wasn’t sure; I hadn’t been able to sleep during the apocalypse, and I certainly had not for centuries as floating eyeballs.
But this was… this was good.
Peace.
Martin rested his head on mine. I think we both rested.
Jared opened the car door. “Like a couple of cats, right?  I’d leave you in there, but I got places to be.”
His weird Corruption hookup. Well, whatever floated his boat. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. 'S nice to see.” He shrugged. “Lonely and Eye. Wouldn’a predicted it.”
He was hoping he could find this same togetherness, though Flesh and Corruption were often at odds. He found this person quite attractive, and they made him laugh, and never made him feel stupid or crass, and—
What are you doing? I asked the Eye, who was showing me this, who wasn’t trying to give me all of Jared’s mind and life story, but certainly more than I could know on my own.
Romance! It wordlessly informed me.
(Its delight was known to me. Known like the sound of my voice from inside my own head.)
This wasn’t new. I’d thought it was because interacting with this as myself was new, but It had been… like this… for at least a few years.
Funny. I hadn’t been afraid of the Eye in a very long time; whatever we’d reached in my doomed world, though wicked, had been… good, at least for me. Should I be afraid now? Was there a point? It almost seemed absurd to be afraid of the One who kept me so carefully for so long in the only way It knew how.
“Thanks,” said Martin, and tucked me under his arm as we headed back between the rectangles.
Just my luck—Jane wasn’t outside anymore. “Does Leitner own all of this?” 
“I genuinely don’t know?” said Martin. “I don’t even know how he made money again when they came through here. For all I know, he pod-peopled his alternate self in this place.”
“Pod-people?”
“Jon—”
I chortled. “I understood. I’m teasing you.”
“Oh, I see,” he said, sounding far too pleased by my machinations. “So I’ll have to go more modern, then. Face Off, maybe?”
The Eye plastered strange images in my head of Nicolas Cage and John Travolta being increasingly bizarre, and I stuttered. “What in blazes did you just reference?”
“We’re watching it tonight,” he said with fiendish delight. “Popcorn and everything.”
I laughed, face against his arm. “Must we?”
Martin kissed me. “Human activities. It’s a good choice.”
And heaven help me, I tried to flirt. “I’ll give you human activities.” I sounded like a moron, and my face went hot.
He started giggling.
I muttered, “I don’t think that’s how flirting works.”
“Only the best kind,” he said, still snickering, and brought me inside.
#
He’d done beautiful things with the rectangle that was his flat.
Painted the walls like sea, with frothing waves near the ceiling, and such fine detail in color progression and distant bubbles that, for a moment, my breath was taken away. I felt enveloped, out to sea, gloriously free. Incredible.
“Oh!” I breathed.
“Mike helped me,” he said, popping off his shoes, walking over thick and lovely throw rugs that somehow seemed like sea floor. “It’s a little more Vast than I wanted, but it still feels like home.”
I’d found his gills. I’d kissed them. They were delicate, sensitive. “Do you wish you still lived in the sea?”
“Well, yes and no. Yeah, because of course I do, no, because I’d never come out again. I’d be lost.”
Even his bulb choices were perfect—no harsh lighting, but gentle, like sun diffused through water. And… “It’s so quiet.”
“Oh—yes, the Lukases helped with that.”
“The Lukases!”
He sighed. “They paid for soundproofing in the walls. Sort of said I’m an honorary member, or whatever.”
“Wait just a damn minute. I was told they didn’t have the big groups here—the Magnus institute, Solus Shipping, Pinnacle Aerospace, all of it.”
“Sure, but there’s still the Lukas family, who’s a lot friendlier than they were, and also a lot more religious?”
“ More religious? Please don’t tell me they fund Leitner.”
“Oh, no, he’s got no backers—he’s rich on his own, though I don’t know how.” 
“But the Lukases?”
“They sought me out. Offered me their home.”
I stared at him. 
He had his back to me, fussing with a bookshelf. 
“Are… they didn’t hurt you?”
“No. Anyone Lonely is family to them.”
“That’s literally the opposite of how that works.”
“You know that, and I know that. They’re not the same.”
I tried to picture this and could not. “I don’t know what to make of this,” I admitted.
“We’re all here,” he said, suddenly turning to me. “Trapped here, saved and brought here… trying to make it work after we made the worst decision any of us ever could have.” And he looked so vulnerable, eyes shiny. “Given what we all did, none of us deserved that second chance. You know that, don’t you?”
“Deeply,” I whispered.
“So we all find a way to make it work here. And we all have one another’s back here. Jane makes sure that we aren’t spied on—her little creatures check all the walls all the time, all the wires, the plumbing, everything. Callum Brodie uses his shadow creatures to make sure that none of us are followed. And—”
“Brodie?”
“A seriously depressed teenager now, but we’re helping him.”
“He was alone,” I whispered. “A child.”
“Being fed on by the Dark. Yes.”
I shook my head. “But Leitner knew when we left the complex.”
“Yes, we let him have that—a general camera in the courtyard, observing when we leave the buildings. It’s a compromise.”
I stared. “This is why no one knows how to respond to me yet,” I said. “They don’t know if I’m… part of this… this…”
“Found family. That’s the term. And by gods, none of us deserve to have found it, but we’re here. We’re here.” Tears spilled down his cheeks, dampening his collar.
I came to him, then. Came to him in his ocean apartment and held him tight, compressing, keeping, protecting (yes We would do anything to save him), and he sobbed on my shoulder, and I didn’t know what to do other than what I already was.
It was enough. He held me back, clutched, clung, and it was enough.
#
His tears faded, and we breathed. 
“Sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?” I whispered back, and kissed his neck, under his collar where some of the gills hid.
“I’m supposed to be helping you adjust, but here I am, doing this.” He didn’t sound that upset. Of course not. We were together.
“Oh, yes,” I murmured, lips on his skin. “We can’t possibly be there for each other. That would be madness.”
He went so still. “I said that to you.”
“You said that to me.” I confirmed with a kiss.
“In the cabin. After it… after everything.”
“Not quite after everything.” This was important. “After Lukas. After we got away, made it north. After you… struggled to stay with me.”
“It was so hard,” he whispered. “So hard to stay out of the Lonely.”
“Yes. And you did it—you… you did it.” Another kiss. “And then one night, after we found Daisy’s 21-year Dewar’s whiskey and got into it, I ended up crying on your lap all night about my grandmother’s plants.”
His laugh is wet, but real. “Gods, I’d forgotten that.”
“I didn’t. Definitely not one of my better moments.”
“Well, it was only fair,” he said, stroking my hair. “You weren’t there when she passed, and that wasn’t your fault at all, but her plants died before anyone even knew to check on her. I know, Jon. You felt awful about it.”
“I still do. How pathetic; it’s been a long time.”
“It’s not pathetic. It’s one of the things I love about you; you don’t stop caring, no matter what burns you, or bites you. It matters, Jon.”
“Even… in your ending?”
He went stiff.
I waited. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. Maybe I just ruined everything. Maybe I—
“Yes,” he whispered. “Even then. Because you became a god, Jon, and you were going to end the world your way—but the moment I… the moment you realized that meant I would die, you changed course. You steered the whole thing away from total destruction. Even then, you cared.”
It was my turn to be still. “I wasn’t a god.”
“You were. Sasha thinks you might be now, too.”
I laughed. “Right. A god.” I pulled back, expecting his matching grin.
He was not grinning. 
“I’m not a god. I’m going to need an income, for crying out loud.”
Martin didn’t blink. “You became something else—something that wasn’t an avatar. Something none of us were. You changed the first time like all of us did, but then you changed a second time. That’s the difference.”
“Martin, I didn’t—”
“It wasn’t another version, so don’t try that. It was you. Just you. But you’re right, anyway.” The tension was gone. “We are here for each other.”
So we were putting talk of deification in the ‘later’ pile. All right. “Someone very wise said that to me,” I complimented unnecessarily, since we’d literally just discussed the moment. I sighed. “I am very bad at flirting.”
“I like the way you do it,” he said, and kissed me.
And then there came a knock at the door.
#
We both jumped. 
“Hang on,” he said, and headed for the door.
“Wait!” I said.
“If it was someone bad, we’d have been alerted,” said Martin, and opened the door.
Tim.
Tim stood—
Tim, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a scowl, with old burns on one arm and a gaze that slid right past Martin and onto me.
Oh, gods. Oh, gods.
“So it’s true,” he said. “They did find one of you.”
And it was not his playful voice, and it was not his on-the-edge-of-flirting voice, and it was not his before-the-worms sharp and loving joy, and as he pushed right past Martin and came my way, I knew he was going to hit me.
I was going to let him.
(I don’t forgive you—)
It had been my fault, all of it. Not being a good enough friend. Not being a good enough Archivist to save him. 
(You really think he wanted you to give more of yourself to the Eye?)
(Yes because he SAID—)
And even though this Tim had obviously not died in the Unknowing, I’d hurt him, and (I don’t forgive you) I would let him do whatever he wanted.
Whatever he had to do.
“Wait—” said Martin.
Tim embraced me.
My mind, too shocked, catalogued the differences between his body and Martin’s, the unrelenting firmness of him, the unfamiliar triangle shape, the—
“You asshole,” he choked, tears in his eyes.
And then he hit me, anyway.
#
Me-shaped bags of eyes could still get knocked on their arse even if their boyfriend thinks there’s been deification, and I went down like a sack of wheat.
“Tim!” Martin shouted, tackling him, late because he honestly never understood how much Tim hated me, and had thought to the end that we could work it out.
Tim pulled away from him, slid to his knees, and yanked me off the floor. Cartoon imagery flashed through my head of rubbery victims being punched to the ground and springing back up like Weebles, but he didn’t hit me again.
He gripped my shoulders and stared into my face.
“Fuck’s sake, Tim!” Martin said.
“It really is you,” Tim said. “You.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He stared at me. Red streaks richened his brown hair. His eyes, too, were lighter—sort of a flame gold, rather than his familiar chocolate-brown. “What?” he said. 
“For everything?” I added pathetically.
“Moron, I hit you.”
“Great, Tim, just great,” said Martin, marching past us both to his second room. “I just get into explaining the kind of community we’ve built here with blood and sweat and tears, and you blow in and do this!”
I’d forgotten just how good a puppy face Tim had. “So my timing was spectacular, as usual?”
“Magnificent.” Martin muttered.
“Sorry!” Tim called after him, sounding anything but.
I stared at him.
He looked back. 
“You’re alive.” I couldn’t help the tears, the hitch in my voice. “You’re alive!”
“Uh,” said Tim. “You’re gonna mess up that shirt.”
“Oh, go to hell,” I said, and wiped my face on my sleeve.
“Yeah, no,” said Tim. “Already did that. Took the world with me. Not a good time. Zero stars, would not recommend.”
“Oh, gods, I missed you,” I said thickly. “You can hit me again if you want. I get it.”
“I’m good,” he said, settling back on his haunches. He wasn’t smiling at me, but it wasn’t a look of hate, either. (My heart swelled.) “I just had to do that once to see how you’d react—and because of what you did.”
“Only once? What did I do in your world?” I said. “Besides completely failing you.”
Tim sighed. “Table that for a second, boss.”
That took me a moment. “I am far from your—”
“When we were about to take out the Circus, you fucking shoved me out of the way,” he said.
I blinked rapidly at him. “I what?”
“You kept your head in the Unknowing,” he said. “You kept all of us clear. Even Basira, though she decided she’d done it herself after you were gone, but whatever. You… you took the detonator from me.”
Wait. “I kept my head?”
“Yeah.”
“The way Jonah…”
“Who?”
“The way… Elias wanted me to?”
“Yeah. You did. And you made some fucking deal with Helen, and you shoved me into her door, and you took my revenge from me.” His jaw tightened, muscles working along the sharp angle. 
I swallowed. This was a lot to take in.
In his world, I’d been more in the Eye.
In his world, I’d been the better Archivist.
In his world, I’d given everything to try to save him.
And… I’d still failed. “What happened?”
“You died. You knew just where to set the plastic explosives. There wasn’t anything left of you after the theater blew.”
Had I done that on purpose? 
I suddenly knew that I had. I’d known what Elias was trying to do, and, seeing no other way, I’d removed myself from the equation. 
Gods, that worked out well. Ugh.
All the blood drained from my face. I had to know. “What did Elias do then?”
“Do?”
He didn’t even know? “For Archivist.”
“Oh. Basira.” Tim shrugged. “Not that it mattered.”
“Why… why didn’t it matter?”
“Because I burned the whole fucking world a year and a half later, so yeah. It didn’t matter.”
His look was challenging now. Hard. Yet…
I knew he feared my response. Why?
“I’m not sorry I hit you,” he said. 
“It was due,” I said. “I lost you in my time. I would’ve given anything for you to have that chance.” And it just tumbled out: “We were friends. And then Sasha… and everything happened, and I never hated you, but I’m terrible at interpersonal communication, and I could’ve tried harder to talk to you, but all we did leading up to the Unknowing was fight, and I thought… I thought I’d have more time.”
“Sounds about right,” he says, low. 
“I wasn’t enough to keep anyone’s head clear. Not even my own.”
His eyes went huge. “You werent?”
(The Eye offered to show me.)
(Oh, gods, I needed to know, this was Tim, I needed to know.)
Please don’t take all of me, I asked It, and—
Saw.
Saw Tim, falling into rage too bright to be depression and too dark to be anything else. Living in the Archives for months like some kind of troll, physically attacking anyone who came near. Obsessing over what I’d done, what I’d taken from him—his revenge, his closure with Danny, his death.
His glorious death, which he’d wanted, like some fictional barbarian.
Saw his irritation at Basira, whose arrogance knew no bounds (and that tracked—she’d thought she had just ‘reasoned’ her way out of the Unknowing after spending months in the Archives, feeding the Eye). Saw his rage at Elias, whom he knew had something to do with all of this, and his irritation because Elias knew better than to come anywhere near him.
(Because Elias put Elias first. Elias never got his hands dirty. Elias stayed out of danger. Elias—)
I saw Tim encountering a tale of Desolation one day, as he did filing literally out of boredom, and his entire self surging in response to the sensation of burning-eating-sizzling up his hands and his arms and his throat and—
He burned the Archives down, did not even know if anyone survived because he walked away and did not look back.
Walked away into Chelsea, into places he could never afford, filled with people who looked down on everyone like him, and he burned that, too.
Jude found him three days later, sitting on the banks of the Thames near Tilbury, bubbling the mud like lava, and took him under her flaming wing.
All of it, in an instant, and then a beautiful thing: It nudged me gently back into myself.
I’d lost no time. I’d lost no thoughts. He was still looking at me, waiting for my response.
Thank you, I thought at It.
I swallowed again, tasting bile. Tears stung my eyes. “I wasn’t as good an Archivist, I suppose.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat.
He looked a little haunted. “Wow. So. Not all sold out, then.”
“Not then, I wasn’t. I tried to stay human, and that’s why I couldn’t save anyone. You did it, in the end. You used the detonator. And… you died.”
“So I got them,” he said, suddenly vicious and hungry. “You’re saying I got them.”
“You did.” (I don’t forgive you—)
“Then I don’t care about anything else.” 
My face must have said more than I intended. 
He sighed. “Please don’t tell me you walked around feeling bad because I got exactly what I wanted?”
“I… of course I… You said…” No, I couldn’t go there. How unfair would  that be? He’d have to say he forgave me just out of social expectation. I changed tack. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “You must have been so angry to do go the way you did.”
“Yeah. I was. But it’s been a long time, boss. I was… it was just me, feeding the Desolation, for years at the end. Had a lot of time to think. Had to think. Part of how it fed on me was making me think about everything I did wrong.”
“That’s so cruel,” I whispered. 
He shrugged. “They are cruel. All of them. And…” He sighed. “After we lost Sasha, I lost myself.”
“I think we all did, a little. And again, Tim, I’m not your boss.”
“Yeah, wel, you didn’t completely fail, either, so you’re just going to have to be flexible today.”
“I did fail! You have no idea what I did.”
“Pretty sure moping was involved,” he drawled.
“Now, that is not fair. Also true, but that is beside the point.”
He actually grinned.
It wasn’t his grin of old, free and wild and asymmetrical. But it was there. Tim Stoker grinned at me.
Tears stung my eyes again.
“Right. If you’re done being stroppy?” said Martin, carrying a tray.
“I’m still angry,” said Tim.
“Isn’t that your secret? You’re always angry,” said Martin.
Tim pointed at him with both index fingers. “I understood that reference! But yeah, he’s… he’s not my Jon. I’m okay.”
Ouch. 
He caught the look on my face. “You’re the Jon I was friends with. Not the sanctimonious prick at the end who knew better than everyone and wouldn’t listen to anybody.”
“I did that?” I blinked at him. 
He stood and offered a hand. “He did. But not you. I swear, if you’d been that guy, macking all over Martin and negging him while you were at it, I really would have killed you.”
I stared at him. At his hand. At him. 
He was not joking.
I swallowed. “How do you know I’m not?” 
“His body language and yours. Look. You get into Desolation… you get into the thing where your whole hunger is destroying anything that makes a person human, and creating bodies out of wax, you get real damn good at reading people. Knowing just the perfect moment to strike, or when you’ve already lit the match that’s gonna leave them in ruins.”
My eyes felt huge. “G… good for you?”
He snorted. “Yeah, you’re fine. Get up, boss. Martin made something, and we’re gonna eat it.”
I don’t know why I took his hand. I half-expected him to burn me like Jude, but he didn’t. “You walked in here ready to murder me?”
“Yeah. You’d do the same for him.”
He was right. If the situation were as described, I absolutely would.
Martin had made a lovely little tray of scones and sandwiches and tea. He’d added a few flowers, though I had no idea where they’d come from.
Was his second room converted to a kitchen? I’d have to look later.
He smiled at me. “Human things include eating.”
“I suppose,” I conceded.
Tim watched me. We weren’t good yet; but we were better. I’d accept better.
Better could be grown into good.
(I don’t forgive you… but thank you for this.)
Maybe we could even grow good into great.
Maybe this really was our second chance.
Maybe I needed to grab it with my eye-filled hands and hold on with all my weird little might.
“Cheers,” said Martin, toasting me with a scone.
“Gods, I love you,” slipped out, and I obediently dug in.
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ladysomething · 8 months ago
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EXCUSE YOU MA'AM
Mads. what the fuck.
hun. I have. questions. I have thoughts. I have everything but tiredness and I'm supposed to be sleeping. I have a job to go to tomorrow. instead of that guess what I'm doing. I'm crawling on my roof. I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclousure. I'm in your walls actually.
let's go back to my 5+1 format. today is maybe 4 things for real.
1. I was. on the beach. ON THE BEACH. with my mom. and my dad. AND my brother. I was asleep before I saw the chapter. I had. a fucking alcoholic beverage in my hand. my family kinda assumed fighting karens at my job finally caught me and I had gone insane. maybe screaming bloody murder after I was asleep was a little bit worrying (two german dudes came to see if I was or had some kind of drug. I didn't). but Peter and Dante got me. I wanna have them. in front of me so that I can do some stress release.
2. the outfit is like. slutty slutty or just slutty. I never kind of understood the heels. are they like one of those that look like "roman" sandals? if you know what I mean. the ones that wish death upon your feet the moment you see them through the window that also are insufferable to wear because of the little strips or how exactly. show me your brain. c'mon don't be shy. I just wanna have a look. on how the fuck this thing goes. obviously not for a spoilers objective. surely not because of that.
3. fuck Fred and fuck Ferrari and fuck sponsors. in all honesty, fuck everyone but Jimmy and Sassy. oh and that reminds me
4. I hate you. (I don't) why would you work me up that fucking much and then leave me there. you're like a bf I had in college that left when we were about to have sex because he remembered he had an assignment due the next day and he had to finish like half of the thing. asshole.
+1 had it been anyone else, I would go on to say I'm proud to say I saw the Carlos thing coming. but is you. I cannot trust you. you're the real unreliable narrator. I'm sure I'll get a whiplash of the bunch of plot twist that this thing has.
+2 I was not going to text you about my issues with the operation of ao3 but after I faced a Charles fucking Dickens tag AGAIN I decided that maybe I will. it was all to protect my identity because I'm batman (I do not know how to use tumblr either, you'll soon find out) but who cares now. the PTSD is real now. if I ever find Charles Dickens again on ao3 I'll scoop my eyeballs with a spoon.
thanks for coming to my ted talk. also great chapter as always hun. I need wednesdays to come faster now.
😂😂😂
not today still being 6 things hahaha
well look. sorry not sorry but breaking that "fanfic readers can read anything in public with a straight face" really brings me immense joy. and I'm glad Dante and Peter hit as hard for you as they did for me
here is the Inso behind the shoes. do with that info what you will.
honestly ???? fuck Max and fuck Charles while we're at it. idiots.
don't worry. you will be gratified soon enough.
+1 hahahah the Carlos thing is ... I mean. it's a thing! that happened! that will be expanded upon next chapter!
+2 truly I am begging you. message me. you do not need to suffer the horror of the Charles Dickens tag!!!! I will guide you in the glorious ways of ao3.
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lycanlovingvampyre · 2 years ago
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MAG 192 Relisten
Activity on my first listen: mowing the lawn.
MARTIN: "Wait, seriously? I thought you had this whole ‘invisibility cloak’ thing going on?" GEORGIE: "Sure, but I’m not exactly keen to test it against the eyeball tower guardians. I don’t know the limits of our ‘invisibility’, and it seems pretty dumb to saunter up and hope it works on them." That's fair. Considering she just threw a pebble at them and they reacted. I'm sure that pebble stone also doesn't feel fear, which means they still very much react to other stimuli like sound, touch maybe etc.
JON: "And tell Melanie… Tell her I’m sorry." GEORGIE: "That’s… not what she wants to hear from you." JON: "Well, then… what does she want?" GEORGIE: "I don’t know. But… it’s not going to be another apology." Uhhh, I'm also at a loss here, what would be the appropriate thing to say? Way I see it, they don't really have anything left to say to each other...
GEORGIE: "Anything you’ve got to say to me, that can wait too." So, and in case he doesn't come back? I just don't understand these two girls anymore...
MARTIN: [Wearily] "Ah, sure. Lead on, Macduff." JON: "It’s, uh, “Lay on –”" MARTIN: [Frustrated] "Sh– I know, I know! I know. Go. Just go." Hahaha, theater kid...
JON: "I insist." [ROSIE SIGHS] ROSIE: [Softly] "Your funeral…" And yours, Rosie. Big Boss won't come out an yell at Jon, he'll yell at Rosie (as far as he is able to right now... Or, if this was pre-Change). That's the thing about being front desk. You're just the person everybody gets to yell at. God I hated that shit...
ROSIE: "Yes I – Yes, I-I understand, I jus– I – Sorry to interrupt." See? What did I say...
Nosy Rosie... Of course she's Eye-aligned...
Oh god, I hate job interviews. I hate being put on the spot, hate stupid questions, or the questions that are none of their business...
"'So why do you want this job, Ms. Zampano?' ‘Because I need money to live, you pompous ass,’ she didn’t answer." Yeah, stupid questions like this! Oh, because sitting at a desk doing paper crap while being on display to get yelled at by everyone is my goal in life! Sure, idiots...
"They weren’t actually Cockney, she knew that for certain. They might as well have been asking to take that table up the ‘apples and pears’." Oh, that one of these cockney slang things, like dog and bone? Do people actually say things like that? I actually do not have any British friends, I don't know which phrases are actually used in the UK and what isn't... Like raining cats and dogs? Do British McDonald’s say "chips" instead of "french fries"? The name we call fries in Austria has actually changed since I was a child. We used to call them Pommes Frites ("Pomm Free-ts", I guess it's French? I'm a total dummy when it comes to French, but “french” fries...), but now everyone says "Pommes", so we do now actually say the silent "es". ... Okay, I now googled UK McDonald's and it says fries? xDD 
"‘Jonathan Sims’, the name read. She knew him. Well, knew of him, the things they said about him in the break room, the sort of things that passed across Mr. Bouchard’s desk about him." [...] "Sims was different. He was insecure, aggressive, desperate to be taken seriously. Of course, having seen his file, Rosie kind of understood. Why on earth Mr. Bouchard had given him the job at all was a mystery to her, but it didn’t make it any easier to talk to him." That is so Eye of the Eye (does that make sense? xD). To feed Jon what people thought about him...
"She still smiles, though. Just in case." God, that gets me...
It is really cool to see all these events through the eyes (heh) of someone else, someone in the periphery.
"Behind his desk, without missing a beat of his conversation, Elias caught her eye, and suddenly she was a child again, creeping towards the rotten board in her parents’ attic, burning to know what lurked behind it, [FLOORBOARD CREAKS WARNINGLY] unsuspecting of the squirming nest of half-dead insect bodies she was about to reveal. [INSECTILE AND SQUIRMING NOISES] Then she was back in the office. Mr. Bouchard was still smiling." Hehehe, Elias doing his memory insertion thing...
"What if he got angry? She couldn’t afford to lose this job. She couldn’t." I am, fortunately, in a very privileged position of being almost unable to be fired, but I'm the same... Afraid the boss will get angry. She can't fire me, but she can make work a living nightmare for me. And she knows it. And she knows that I know.
"but… what if it made Mr. Bouchard angry? Why did the thought of that terrify her so?" Yeah that. Rosie's statement got me a lot more than that of MAG 188, which did sound very much like a social anxiety statement.
"She was working for evil. Not someone misguided, not selfish, but truly evil. And she knew she was going to sit there and ignore that fact. She knew the sort of information he had on everyone, and now she knew what he was capable of, what he might do if he thought Rosie might be a threat." Capitalism is the enemy!!!11
"People have come to see Elias. No. Not people. Not anymore." Ouch... (Thinking of Jon and Martin here because she wondered about helping them.)
"Where else could she have gone? Mr. Lukas was dead. Mr. Bouchard was missing. So many friends and colleagues dead. The violence, the gunshots. The old man and his… daughter? Their murderous joy. She couldn’t stop thinking about their faces. How they had looked right past her as they ran through the building." Rosie should get a good therapist when all this is over... And uh... this of course requires a therapist, who can do their job... Like post Change doesn't sound like fun for anyone...
MARTIN: "Oi! Dickhead! Come down here so we can kick your arse!" I'm so proud of you, Martin! xD
MARTIN: "Yeah I got that. What’s wrong with him?" JON: "Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with him. He’s the pupil of The Eye." MARTIN: "Meaning?" JON: "He won." Hmm. I thought it was clear that he won as soon as he got his Eyepocalype? xD What they think he’s doing? Sitting in a corner all sad while listening to Caramelldansen?
@a-mag-a-day
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empressofthesunwriter · 1 year ago
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Kill La Hero: 01
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In the lottery of Quirk’s Michi got on really special and annoying one. A living, sarcastic ribbon named Ares, who puts her into superpowered revealing outfits. But this won't stop the girl from fulfilling her dream of being a hero! Just watch her!
(But not too closely please!)
MHA MEETS KILL LA KILL!
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!!!PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!
So I had this random idea while I finished watching Kill La Kill (I know it’s fucked up but also really funny and entertaining) that having a super suit like Senketsu would be an awesome and funny Quirk.
So Michi and Ares were born.
This is going to be IzukuXOC Pairing, so if you don’t like it, don’t read it!
Enjoy the ride!
Also made Michi outfits!
Chapter 1: The Girl with the Ribbon
Frowning at her reflection, the female fixed her red glasses.
At least the school uniform was black.
It didn’t look horrible on her with her salmon hair colour and her red, spooky (her cousin Lina’s words) eyes.
“You don’t get prettier, looking into your Vanity Mirror, Michi.”, sassed Ares, the bain of her existence from his place on her head.
She looked up at the sentient ribbon.
He looked down.
If his speaking without a mouth, didn’t make clear he wasn’t a normal ribbon, his looks sure would. He was dark maroon, then in the middle dark pink, followed up by red eyeballs, black scalder and yellow pupils.
“And I don’t need your stupid commentary!”, she reminds him. “Especial today.”
“Why because you are going to a new school? It’s not the first time, Whirlwind. You needed to move here so your Mama could care for your grandparents. It’s not that different when you moved school because you broke someone's nose.”, he really had the gall to say.
Huffing she pulled Ares a bit. The ribbon cried out in pain.
Yes, he could feel pain.
“We are in Japan, you idiot. I’m used to moving to our city in Italy, from school to school, but here I’m a foreigner.”
“I thought Michela, La Vendetta, doesn’t care what people think of her and if they want to tease her she just punches them in the face.”, reminds Ares.
With another huff, Michela grasped her new school bag and went to the kitchen.
Did she really though this piece of cloth would get it?
“Ares.”, she tried again to explain. “In two years I will be finished with Junior High and try to get into one of the big Hero Schools. I can’t risk any more notes in my school records. I want to go to U.A. since Herakles University in Greece is now out of the question. U.A. is the best hero school in all of Japan! Only the best get in. And I intend to be one of them. If I have to play the role of demure school girl I will.”
It was still for a few seconds between them before Ares pointed out: “You have pierced ears, wear large hoop earrings, for your last birthday your parents allowed you a tattoo and your red eyes are creepy. Only your glasses make you look soft. You don’t scream innocent school girl more like Fight-Me!”
Michela could just grit her teeth together.
He wasn’t wrong.
It’s her Italian temperament that always gets her into situations where fist flies.
She wished she had gotten a bit more of the calm nature of her Japanese mother, however besides the hair colour, she came totally after her Italian father.
People never believed her when she told them she was half-Japanese.
In secret, she didn’t believe it sometimes too.
Michela loved her mother and her mother loved her, sadly they weren’t always on the same page.
Her father understood her better.
“Good morning, Michi-Chan.”, greeted her Obaa-San from the kitchen table.
Her grandparents and her father sat already, while her mother was putting the last dishes on it.
She greeted her grandparents back in Japanese, then switched to Italian to greet her parents.
Jiji-San had hearing problems, so he asked what she had said, and she repeated it.
Then she sat down and had to sign.
A traditional Japanese breakfast.
Again.
Since they moved in with her grandparents mother only cooked Japanese, since the two elders were a bit old-fashioned in the food department.
Michela or Michi here in Japan found the red eyes of her father. She saw understanding in them.
They both craved some Brioche with crema.
Father and daughter signed together.
What one endured for the ones you love.
***
Her new school, Aldera Junior High, looked straight out of an anime.
Normally she would enjoy this, but Michi was a tiny bit nervous.
She couldn’t be anymore the tough, fist-fighting girl she loved, so who the heck was she now?
A strange foreigner with a weird ribbon, she heard her schoolmates whisper as she got into the school.
An angry mark formed on her head as she changed her street shoes to indoor shoes.
Just stay calm.
Don’t start swinging.
“You are a bunch of rude kids.”, told Ares a group of a few girls and boys, who were whispering beside her.
This made the little group jump in fright. They didn’t expect that the ribbon could talk.
What Quirk was that?!
The salmon-haired girl just reached up and petted Ares.
“Ares, I don’t care.”, she told him in Italian. “You don’t have to fight my fights.”
“We fight together did you forget?”
It made her smile. When he wanted Ares could be sweet.
Her head holding high Michi walked past the gossiping people, trying to find her classroom.
She found it thankful before the school clock sounded.
“Alright, class, settle down!”, told her new teacher, her new classmates.
He looked at the paper in his hand and turned to her, who was still standing by the door.
“Massaro Michela?”
“Michi is fine, Sensei.”
“Alright, come here Michi-San.”
So she stepped beside him as he shouted into the class.
“Class meet our new student. This is Massaro Michi. She moved from Italy here. Please welcome her with open arms.”
As her mother had explained to her, she bowed in greetings.
“Please take care of me!”
Again the whispers started. Not only her, but she could also feel Ares getting annoyed about that.
“Michi-San, I’m Watanabe-Sensei, if you have a question just turn to me. Now would you like to tell us a bit about yourself?”
Tell this judgemental little bitches something about her.
Oh, she would like to start swinging, however, she got a better idea.
In her thoughts, she thanked again her older cousin Stefano for introducing her to Anime and Manga.
She had the perfect way to introduce herself.
“I’m Massaro Michi. I have no intention of telling you my likes and dislikes. As for my dream…I have a few hobbies.”
The flabbergasted faces of her classmates and the cough-disguised laugh of Watanabe-Sensei were worth it, to not play the demure school girl.
What was she thinking?
She was a rebel through and through.
So she nodded to her Sensei and picked the only free sit in the classroom.
Michi had a feeling it would be a long day.
***
Bored Michi picked at her bento box, while Ares took a nap.
It was finally lunch break and how the girl needed a break!
Here in Japan, they were way beyond the curriculum she had in Italy! It didn’t help at all that she could already speak, write and read Japanese when they were so advanced!
Her mother had insisted on learning Japanese, in the past it had been a pain in the butt, however, Michi was now glad for it.
Maybe she should forget U.A. it was too much work.
“No I shouldn’t think this way.”, she scolded herself. “All I ever wanted was to be a hero. My Quirk is a pain in the butt, but if I don’t use it for good, I would feel so bad.”
Thankful Ares was sleeping or he would hit her for calling him a pain in the butt.
Slowly Michi picked up a piece of salmon with her chopsticks to place it in her mouth when she heard it.
Something hitting someone.
This someone letting out a little quiet hurt sound.
The salmon-haired girl turned around on the bench where she sat.
What she saw made her instantly angry.
There was a small, frail-looking boy with wild green hair that reminded her of broccoli, sitting all alone on a bench, like her and behind him some punks threw paper balls at him.
Oh no, not on her watch.
Like she was fury herself she stood up and raced up to the frail boy before another paper ball hit him on the head. She caught it and threw it right back in one of the bully's faces.
“Hey, you bitchass assholes take someone of your own size!”, she growled.
The bullies were taken aback by Michi's sudden outburst and stood up to confront her. 
But before they could say anything, Ares unfurled himself from Michi's hair and glared at them with his menacing red eyes. 
"You really shouldn't mess with my girl," he warned, his voice low and threatening.
The bullies hesitated for a moment before backing down and slinking away.
“Thanks Ares.”
Her ribbon shrunk to its normal size.
“Anytime, Michi.”
Then Michi turned to the green-haired boy who was staring at her in shock.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He nodded slowly, still looking a bit dazed. "Th-thank you," he stammered.
"No problem. I can't stand bullies."
“Is...is he your Quirk?”, wonders the boy shy, pointing at Ares. “I...I never saw something like that, it...it’s cool!”
“Thanks, boy!”, preened Ares, puffing himself up. “I’m quite formidable.”
“A formidable pervert.”, deadpanned Michi.
Ares may give her powers beyond imagination, yet the outfit it came in...shudder!
Her ribbon huffed, while broccoli boy titled his head in confusion.
Gosh, he was adorable.
“It’s whatever.”, waved Michi and sat down beside him. He suddenly turned so red, that he was giving competition to tomatoes. “I didn’t introduce myself I’m Massaro Michela but call me Michi, Class 1B. The ribbon on my head is Ares, he is part of my Quirk.”
It took him a while, however, the boy managed to answer her: “I’m...I’m...M-Midoriya Izuku. Class 1A.”
Strange that he didn’t tell his Quirk, but it was none of her business. 
Maybe it was an embarrassing one.
She knows this kind of Quirk well.
“Sucks, that we aren’t in the same class. I would love to know already someone nice there, but we can still be friends.”
Midoriya nearly falls over the bench. Did he hear right?!
“You...You want to be my friend?”
Michi shrugged her shoulders.
“You seem way nicer than anyone I meet today. All think me a freak for Ares and because I’m from Italy. In my eyes, you are a good friend materiel.”
Midoriya couldn't believe his luck. He had been dreading lunchtime, knowing he would have to sit alone again, but now he had made a friend.
And not just any friend, but someone who was brave enough to stand up to bullies and had a cool Quirk to boot.
He felt like he had hit the jackpot.
"I'd like that," he said, smiling shyly at Michi. "I don't have many friends either."
They spent the rest of lunch chatting about this and that.
Midoriya, who became fast Izuku, was curious about Italy and the Italian Superheroes she liked.
So told him all about the amazing Seraphina, who had an Angel-Quirk.
She noted that Izuku wanted to get something out of his backpack and Ares and she encouraged him to just get it out.
It turned out Izuku had such a passion for heroes that he wrote about them in notebooks, all he could find out about them.
Michi and Ares were impressed and Izuku nearly cried that someone (A girl nonetheless! And a nice entity) didn’t mocked him for his hero studies.
On the contrary, they helped him add some things too and described Seraphina in their best quality.
Then they talked about the Japanese Heroes and both found out that they liked All Might a lot. Mirko was Michi’s favourite Japanese Hero, but she owned some All Might Merch as well.
Izuku felt in heaven (Michi was turning into a goddess in his eyes) and Michi felt herself relaxing for the first time since arriving in Japan.
Maybe this new school wouldn't be so bad after all.
They continued to chat throughout the rest of lunch and even walked back to class together.
As it was time to part Michi asked for Izuku's phone number, which he repeated stuttering and sweating, such a cutie, and she gave hers.
How Izuku acted getting her phone number felt like she had given him the Holy Grail or something.
Yes, he was indeed a cutie.
With a hair ruffle, she left her new friend.
Never seeing how he happily freaked out that a girl touched him!
This was the start of a beautiful friendship, no question.
25.05.24: I decide to delete the second chapter and start new with this FF.
I hope you all like the new cover art too. :D
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