#Realized I didn’t post this on here yet

[masonmontz]

hellooo everyone :) i hope you like it, this was incomplete for a long time and i did my best to try to get it ready and post it

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

angst/fluff word count: 3,5k

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

It's not that you hate Mason's friends, far from it, but you just... don't fit into their lifestyle. 

You and Mason have been together for a few months now and yet you still feel out of place in his reality, especially since his friends act like you don't exist. You actually enjoy talking to them and you think they're fun, but it annoys you when they invite Mason to parties as if he were single, or talk about other girls in front of you and even ask Mason's opinion about them.

Mason never made you doubt his feelings for you, but all of this has been building up and making you stressed.

It was Wednesday afternoon and you were at Mason's house working on your computer, Mason had training and he wouldn't be back for another hour. Erik changed today's training time ‘cause he had an appointment and so Mason would be at Carrington until 7pm. The doorbell ringing startled you, you weren't expecting anyone, not even Mason's family.

You were surprised to see Woody standing at the door of Mason's house with two women behind him, and apparently he thought it was strange that you answered the door.

“Y/n, hey, I didn’t know you were here” Woody spoke and scratched his head, a little embarrassed.

“Hello, Woody. It’s good to see you” you said and then looked at the two model-like women behind him. “Mason is still in Carrington, do you need to talk to him?”

Woody walked up the two steps of the stairs and you let him in, and the two women he was with followed him. Of course, Mason's house is also the house of his best friends.

“Yeah, actually we had planned to go to a party today. It's Stella's birthday” he pointed to the blonde woman in the red dress, and she smiled at you.

“Happy birthday Stella” you smiled at her and turned to Woody again. “He didn't tell me anything, Mason and I arranged to go out for dinner.”

“Well, he confirmed that he's going to the party, I hope you don't mind leaving dinner for another day.” 

“No, of course not, I'll just wait for him to arrive so I can change” you said and pointed to the gym clothes you were wearing. 

“Actually, Y/n…” Woody started with a tone of voice you didn't like.

“All the seats at the party have been reserved, I can't put any more names on the list, I'm sorry” the brunette woman spoke for Woody, and you were speechless as the three of them stared at you standing in the middle of the living room in Mason's house.

“Yeah, of course” you smiled, even though you were angry at Woody for doing the same thing he always did, acting like Mason was still single. 

“I hope you don't mind Mason going alone, but he's my friend and I really wanted him there” Stella said and you agreed. “Oh, Woody said you weren't very nice but you are.”

Woody's eyes widened and you glared at him, watching him swallow hard. You smiled fakely at Stella.

“Yeah, I don't think Woody is very cool either and I hope he knows that” you spoke at the same moment the door opened and Mason walked in, and he heard you talking about Woody. “Have fun tonight.”

You grabbed your computer from the living room table and went upstairs, trying to take a deep breath while knowing everyone was staring at you.

“Woody, what are you doing here, mate?” you heard Mason asking his friend. 

“It's Stella's birthday man, you remember how much fun you two had, right?” was the last thing you heard before the bedroom door slammed shut. You took a deep breath once, twice, three times, even though it was difficult.

You were sick of being treated like you meant nothing to Mason, and he wouldn't even tell his friends to stop it, and that was what hurt you the most, he cares so much about his friends that he doesn't realize that you're the one who's getting upset about all this.

You packed your things and put away your computer, there was no way you were going to stay there any longer. You heard laughter from downstairs and it made you even more frustrated with Mason. 

It wouldn't be nice to leave Mason's house with all of them staring at you in the living room, but you also didn't want to wait until they left, which could take hours. You honestly wanted to cry, but you hated feeling helpless and crying in front of someone, even if it was the person you gave your heart to.

Fuck him and his friends.

“Mate, I bought a ticket for a party in Ibiza during the international break, we have to go. I bought your ticket too” Woody said to Mason, and you could see that they were sitting on the couch. Mason was in the middle of Woody and Stella.

“I have to ask Y/n if she wants to go and-”

“Bro, she hates us and she won't want to go, you have to go alone, it will be fun.”

“Yeah, I'll think about it” Mason spoke softly and you snorted.

“Who knows, maybe I'll go to Ibiza with you guys? Polly can go too” Stella said and you walked down the stairs, you didn't want them to see you but it was impossible to leave without being noticed. Mason's gaze went to your bags and he noticed that you were leaving.

“Where are you going?” he asked but you didn’t look at him, you continued towards the exit door. “Y/n?”

Mason followed behind you and closed the door when you were both outside, and finally you looked up at him and he saw the tears in your eyes. 

“I’m going home” you spoke softly and Mason lost focus for a few seconds. “You can go to the party, I won't stop you from going.”

“You’re going with me.”

“Oh, am I? I’m sorry, your friend was pretty clear when he said that there’s no space for me there” you said and felt a tear fall, but the last thing you wanted was to cry in front of Mason.

“He didn't mean it, you were rude to him and said you don't like him and-”

“What?” you weren't believing what Mason was saying. It wasn't the first time he defended Woody or Declan or Benny from you, and he never defended you the same way to them, he just accepts what they say about you.

“Look, Woody is one of my best friends, you know that. If you love me, then you should like them too because they’re my family.”

“Yeah, you're right. But maybe they don't love you as much since they don't like me.”

“What are you saying?”

“You always let them say whatever they want about me, Mason. You never stood up for me, ever. How do you think I feel when my boyfriend lets his friends talk about other girls or bring women over to his house while I'm here?”

“They are my friends.”

“I have friends too, Mason, and they've never disrespected you the way Woody or Declan do to me. I heard Woody saying that you and Stella had fun, do you think it didn't hurt to hear that? They don't think I'm enough for you?”

“I love you, that's enough” Mason spoke with his hands in his hair, huffing.

“Yeah, only in your dreams will I spend the rest of my life putting up with this.”

“Don't go away, let's talk, there's no reason to make this drama, love” Mason tried to pull you away but you pushed his arm away, shaking your head. “Y/n, please, let's go inside.”

“No, Mason. You don’t understand” you said frustratedly, finally crying and sobbing. “I don't want to hear any more bullshit about other women while I'm around. I don't want to know who you were with before me, they have no respect for me and you don't do anything about it. Declan cheats on Lauren all the time and encourages you to do the same, you think I don't feel stupid? He's a jerk and she should dump him, and it hurts me when you don't say anything about it because you're their child's godfather and you think it's funny that he has been cheating on her the whole time.”

“I don't think it’s funny.”

“So you hide very well that you care about her or Jude” you wiped your eyes, looking at Mason who looked sad. “I really think you're not ready for a relationship, maybe you really love your friends and they’re your priority, but the Mason I knew is not this guy in front of me.”

“Hey, no, c’mon, I love you, I didn't know you felt that way.”

“Exactly, you care more about them than me.”

You turned your back and Mason tried to pull you towards him, but you refused and cried as you walked away. You looked at him one last time and saw Mason's eyes full of tears, but you chose to turn around and leave.

“Y/, don’t go, please.”

“When you realize what's wrong we can talk again.”

Mason watches in shock as you get into an Uber without looking back, it's like he's trapped in a nightmare but he can't do anything because he's tied up. He stood there for several minutes staring at the street until he felt raindrops and went into the house, hearing Woody and the women's laughter as soon as he entered.

“Mase, you can change your clothes now so we can go, what do you think?” Stella asked, but Mason's mind was far away. He looked at Woody sitting on the couch with Polly sitting on his lap, and for the first time in months Mason realized the reasons that made you leave.

“I'm not going, you can go” he muttered before turning his back and heading towards the stairs.

“Mate, what do you mean? Y/n told us to go and have fun” Woody said and Mason turned his face in time to see his friend get up from the couch and walk towards him. 

“Shit, Woody, she broke up with me. Please go away now, I don’t want you here for now” Mason realized that you really did leave. He needs to be stuck in his own misery for a while. 

“That's why we should go out, man, so you can forget about her, like old times.”

“Get out.”

“What the fuck?” Woody really wasn't understanding Mason, and it pissed him off, because now everything was obvious and Mason was the only idiot who didn't realize he was losing you. “What did Y/n say about me? She's an idiot, don't pay attention to her.”

“Don't you dare talk about her like that again” Mason pointed a finger at Woody, who was startled by Mason's tone. “Get out of here, all of you.”

Mason didn't wait for an answer and went upstairs without looking back, he took his phone out of his pocket and called you, but you didn't answer any of the times he called, nor did you even respond to the several messages apologizing that he sent.

Mason threw himself on the bed and sighed, how could he be so stupid? It was all so obvious in front of him, but Mason was more concerned about his friends than the woman he loves.

He called more than twenty times and you didn't answer any of the calls, nor did you respond to his multiple messages apologizing. Mason's heart raced as he thought he may have lost you forever because he was childish and stupid. 

Panic washed over him and Mason gasped, he ran his hands through his hair in despair and anger. Mason couldn't blame you for deciding to leave, he understands, but saying his heart wasn't hurting was a lie. Mason never felt that way, ever.

A tear ran down his face, then another and then another, and before Mason knew it he was sobbing and thinking about everything you had said to him. It was so stupid that he didn't realize how you felt about Woody or Declan, and Mason couldn't even judge you, because in all these months he really was a terrible boyfriend and only now could he realize it.

He actually let his friends take him to parties, he didn't mind when Woody brought women to him, and Mason never thought about hooking up with them, but now he realized that he wasn't respectful and broke the trust you had in him. And what about Declan? Mason couldn't even think about his best friend having sex with multiple women while he has an amazing person at home waiting for him, plus a son who is the most beautiful child Mason had ever seen. 

Mason feels ashamed that he never said anything to Declan, and he feels ashamed that he didn't protect Lauren and Jude. And he is ashamed because you don’t trust him and broke up with him because of the things he did. 

“Please, please, answer me.”

Another rejected call. Mason is about to despair. 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹ 

It's been two weeks since you and Mason broke up, and honestly it's been really hard to go through the days without talking to him and trying not to think about him.

You failed every day, of course.

Mason respected the message you sent asking him not to call you, but deep down you wished he hadn't given up. Every day you wonder if he's out partying with Woody, having women all over him and falling in love with the smile you love. It breaks you every time.

“It's not an exaggeration if he listed all his friends as if they were more important than you” Kiera murmured while you were lying down watching a movie, she went to your house because she didn't want to sleep alone, her boyfriend was traveling and would be back the next day. “Honestly, I love Mason, maybe this will make him realize what he did wrong and you guys can get back together.”

“Yeah, but I think he realized he prefers parties and Woody, he didn't call me anymore.”

“You asked him not to call you.”

“I know, but that would show me that he cares about me. Am I wrong?”

“Of course.”

 “Do you think I should call him?”

“You miss him, right? You want him to call you but you asked him not to, he is just doing what you asked and respecting your time, if you are ready to talk, talk to him.”

“Yeah, I think you're right.”

But you didn't call, not the next day or the day after that. You knew Mason was traveling with the team because the next game was far away, and you didn't want to take your problems to him.

You missed him so much you could cry. You missed him when you woke up in the morning and missed his kisses on your neck, you missed having breakfast next to him and laughing at his stupid jokes, you missed him bothering you or lying next to you just watching some movie that neither of you paid attention to.

It was very cold in Manchester and the streets were already starting to have Christmas decorations, and that made you happy, it's the best time of the year. You went out for a walk in the late afternoon, the sun was setting and some people were walking along the streets. 

It was crazy, but you swore you saw Mason's car parked at the pie shop when you were at the door, your favorite in the whole town. Mason also knew how much you liked chocolate pie, and he would always buy you a pie when he passed by.

But it wasn't crazy, ‘cause Mason came out carrying a box of pie just as you were about to climb the stairs to enter the store. You could have fallen if you weren't holding onto the railing, and Mason's eyes widened when he saw you. 

He looked so handsome, his hair cropped because of the cut on his head, and he was wearing sweatpants and slippers. You couldn't help but smile when you saw his comfortable clothes.

“Did Ace eat all your sneakers?” 

Mason breathed a sigh of relief when you asked, and the smile he gave you melted your heart. 

“It would be too much work to put on sneakers, I preferred to go out like this” he walked down the two steps and stopped in front of you, your heart raced and you could feel your own hands shaking. Oh my God, it's Mason, why are you nervous? 

You were silent for a few seconds, but Mason didn't take his eyes off you.

“So… how are you?” you asked, and Mason pulled you aside as a couple walked out of the pie shop. His touch on your arm sent you over the moon, and that was enough for you to realize that the time you needed was over.

“Honestly? I'm a mess” he confessed and you felt a pang of guilt, but you knew he needed that time too. “Do you want to talk here? Are you ready?”

“Hum- no, yes, I’m ready, but I don’t want to talk here” you spoke and he agreed. “We can go to my house. Are you going to take the pie to someone?” you pointed to the box in his hands.

“No, I bought it for myself” Mason scratched his head in embarrassment and you raised your eyebrows. “I don't know, chocolate pie reminds me of you and I was missing you.”

“Just like I'm watching Game of Thrones like crazy, then.”

“Oh, you said it was boring” he accused you, grinning, and you shrugged as you followed Mason to the car.

“You know I only watch ‘cause of Daenerys” you stopped next to Mason as he opened the car door for you, his scent reminded you of how much you missed him and you couldn't help but hug him, almost making him drop the pie box. 

“I wasn't expecting that” he murmured as he left a kiss on your hair, hugging you with just one arm and you held his waist tightly, afraid that he would leave. “Oh God, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, sorry” you let go of him and smiled, feeling like a part of you was whole again. 

You walked in silence to your house, and even so it wasn't bad, the smile you both had on your lips already said a lot. 

“My mum is missing you, she almost hit me for not taking you to London with me on the international break.”

“Did you tell her what happened?” you asked as you grabbed two plates for you two to eat the chocolate pie that looked delicious. 

“No, I said you were busy” he sighed and shrugged, but Mason still looked wary. “I was a bad boyfriend, Y/n, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I should never have put other things first, you are the most important person to me and I hate myself for disappointing you and making you distrust me.” 

You just looked at Mason. He wasn't the same man you left three weeks ago, the man in front of you recognized his own mistakes, and that was clear and enough for you. 

“I'm sorry for the things you went through, I was an idiot and didn't realize it. I should never have let Woody take those women to my house or treated you the way he did, I should have stood up for you.”

“It's okay, I forgive you.” 

Mason sighed in relief when you approached him, and this time he hugged you so tightly as if he would never let you go. 

And you didn't want him to let you go again. 

“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Y/n, oh my God, how did I manage to go three weeks without talking to you or seeing you?” Mason put his hands on your shoulders and shook you, making you laugh. 

“I had no one to fetch water for me at night.”

“Did you just miss me because of that? I'm taking this pie home and you're not going to eat it.”

“Actually, I think we can eat while watching Game of Thrones?”

“I knew you liked the series, you just didn't want to admit it to me.”

Mason took the pie into the living room and you grabbed a blanket from your bedroom, ready to snuggle into it for hours and hours. You walked back into the living room and Mason was smiling on the couch as he waited for you, and you couldn't help but smile and feel like everything was okay again.

Mason hugged you as you laid down next to him, he was warm and comfortable and even you didn't understand how you managed to spend so much time away from him. 

Mason was your home, and not even so many days away would change that.

[lilcawdy]

Poison and Lavender

Lucanis x Crow!Rook

Here's a small appetizer of what I'm working on in response to my headcanon, this is my first time posting a fic ever so any feedback is appreciated!

(my she/her elf Crow Rook that I have not named yet)

“Bitter and sweet, right? Like a kiss goodbye?” Rook couldn’t help but tease him, “So. What would a first kiss be?”

Lucanis was used to light teasing and flirting from clients, it helped with business. But this felt different. It wasn’t familiar; it was new and before he knew what he was saying, it was already too late. 

“Honey and lavender cream. Sweet, intriguing…” Mierda. That was too obvious. He heard Spite’s low laugh in the back of his mind. It was his fault after all. Lucanis thought back to the first time he met Rook back in the Ossuary, the first sweet and intriguing voice he had heard since being imprisoned, and the scent to match according to Spite.

Flashback:

Nothing. What else was there? He had thought it all - revenge, tactics, recipes. And now? Nothing. Lucanis sat patiently in his crystal prison, eyes closed, waiting for something. Or nothing he wasn’t sure. Even Spite was quiet for once, that damn demon. 

“Smells like…”

Well, that didn’t last long.

“Poison. And Lavender” 

Poison? The lavender didn’t confuse him much - maybe one of the Venatori guards was trying a new perfume, but why poison? Then he felt it, the magic stopped. He heard voices, and for once him and Spite agreed on something: it was an opening, and it was time.

“I’m guessing you’re the reason we’re here.”

That voice. Mierda, that damn voice. It wasn’t harsh or filled with malice of any kind. It was… sweet? There was no poison in her voice.

“Who are you? Who sent you?” 

He searched the elf up and down, noticing the leather and knives similar to his own. Was she a Crow? 

It was when she moved closer that he realized what Spite had meant. He could smell the Lavender of course, it was such a strong and heavenly scent. But there was something else, something hidden, that he picked up thanks to his possession. Honey. Oh this one was smart, she was using poisonous honey and covering the scent with Lavender.

“My name’s Rook. House de Riva. I’m here to bring you home.” 

Lucanis never would have guessed that he was already there the moment she spoke. Her voice had become his home.

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 7

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.4k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: How will your next practice go, now that you've talked?

a/n: so what will dancing together be like now? Posting early because I'm traveling later today. See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), fluff!!!, more talking

Chapter 7

By Monday, you were exhausted and most of you hurt, but you walked into morning class with a smile playing around your mouth.

You’d nailed Hermia, and you didn’t think you could feel better about it. Adrian had already tackled you in a hug the day before, after the third performance — thankfully already out of his glittery Puck costume. (Or Elena and Max, the costume heads, would have been pissed.) But he’d been amazing, too, and you told him so. 

As you put on your shoes for barre, you felt someone come up and stand next to your spot along the wall. You looked up and saw black shoes and black tights, and smiled.

“Hi, Din,” you said, looking up to meet his gaze.

His face was as expressionless as always, but you could have sworn the corner of his mouth lifted just slightly when your eyes met. It was small, but it was there.

“Morning,” he greeted you softly. “You were amazing this weekend.”

You grinned as you moved to stand. He offered his hand and you took it. “You saw?” You hadn’t seen him in the wings or the audience, but that didn’t mean anything — it was a packed house for all three performances.

He nodded, squeezing your hand before letting it drop. “Yesterday. I brought Grogu, too, he loved it. But we couldn’t stay after, so I couldn’t look for you to tell you how good you were. You captured her perfectly. I could feel her confusion and turmoil.” He turned to walk towards his spot at the barre and you moved with him. “It felt so… tormented. I could almost see her indecision.”

You smiled and ducked your head as you reached the barre. You grasped it in both hands and leaned into it a little. “Um, thanks.” You looked up at him and found his gaze was soft behind his mask. “It did feel good. I was really happy with it.”

He nodded at you. ��You should be. It was beautiful.” He paused for a moment, looking at you, and you couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response.

Din opened his mouth to say something else, but Alexa called out for everyone to start, and you started to move towards your spot at the barre next to his. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to catch your arm. “Can we meet tomorrow? After lunch. To rehearse.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.” 

…

On Tuesday, Din told you he’d reserved one of the tiny practice rooms set aside for just that purpose. You promised you’d meet him there. As he stepped away, Adrian stepped up to fill the space. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Were you just lurking there, listening in?”

“Obviously,” he rolled his eyes. “What’s the practice room for?”

You laughed. “We’re going to work on the pas de deux, before rehearsal on Thursday.”

He waggled his eyebrows at you and you elbowed him. “Oof. Rude. It sounds like things are going better, then?”

You nodded. “I think so. We haven’t tried it again, yet, but I think it’s going to work better, this time.” You’d already told him all about your conversation with Din, leaving out the personal details Din had shared. You didn’t think he’d want you to spread those around.

“Good.”

Alexa called out to Adrian and you moved off, waving as you turned into the hallway. 

…

As you walked towards the room Din had reserved for you, you couldn’t help but notice how different you felt, compared to your walk to rehearsal, so full of dread the week before. 

You found the small room, tucked away at the end of the rehearsal hall and around the corner. You almost never came back here, you realized. 

Din was already inside, fiddling with the sound system.

“Hey, Din,” you said, smiling when he turned to look at you. You closed the door and moved to join him. “Did you go home for lunch?”

He nodded. “Grogu had a half day today, so I got to eat lunch with him.” He smiled — just a small thing, but the obvious difference from how he was in class warmed you. 

“That’s great,” you said, and sat to put on your shoes. “I’m sure he was excited to see you.”

Din made a small noise, and you looked up. He was smiling a bit bigger, and you realized he had laughed, just a bit. You grinned. “He was. He said he talked about the ballet at school and danced for his teacher.”

You laughed. “That’s so cute, oh my god.”

Din ducked his head and you thought you saw an even wider smile take over his mouth.  You looked down at your shoes to keep yourself from staring. He looked good when he smiled. (He looked good all the time.)

You cut off your own thoughts, moving to stand. “So, did you have something in mind for today?” You asked.

He nodded. “I was thinking, what if we talk through what we have so far? I’d like to hear how you think about it. What you’re feeling and how you want to show that. I think that would help me.”

You blinked. “Sure. I can do that. And I want to hear from you, what you’re thinking is going on in your character’s head. That’s how I usually start — what is she thinking? And how can I show that, in my body? Should it be obvious or subtle? And then the emotion can come out in so many different ways… but I always start from what she’s thinking.”

Din looked thoughtful. “I usually do think about that, too, but I guess I haven’t had as much freedom before. In terms of what I can do with it.”

That made sense, based on what you knew of CBC. But something about what he said caught your attention. “Din… what if we use that. In the dance.”

He tilted his head at you and leaned against the barre. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we know Kuiil wants our characters to learn from each other and then create something new together, right? Or form a new connection that affects each other.” He nodded. “Ok, so what if your character becomes freer or more open over the course of the performance?”

His eyebrows flew upwards. “Oh.” He sounded like he was as struck by the idea as you had been a moment before.

You nodded. “Yes! And so you could start from something more familiar and change, over the course of the dance. And that’s what we could work on. So you’re not starting from something so new, but instead growing towards it. Maybe we could even work that in, that my character is sort of drawing yours out? It would add to the back and forth between us, and the give and take. And I could even mirror you a bit, to invite you in! Your reactions could sort of waiver towards and away from the openness my character is inviting you to have. Right? Between acceptance and rejection. What do you think?” You ran out of breath, and you knew your hope for him to agree must have been showing on your face. Now that you’d had the idea, you were attached to it. It seemed perfect.

He looked down, and you bit your lip. “Din—“

But then he looked up, and he looked relieved. He nodded. “I like it. I think that’s perfect. And it will feel like so much less pressure. I think I was getting too in my head about getting it right from the beginning.”

“Oh, good! Ok, great.” You reached out and squeezed his arm. Almost immediately he covered your hand with his free one and pressed down gently. You couldn’t help but notice how big his hand was, as it covered yours, and you felt your face heat up and ignored it. You needed to get used to touching each other, anyway. “I think this will be good, Din. We can do this.”

You were standing so close, you realized, since you’d reached out to touch him and he’d held you there. You hesitated. “So, do you want to start by talking it through?”

He nodded. For a moment he didn’t move, but then he squeezed your hand again before releasing it and stepping away. “Let’s start from when we first see each other.”

You nodded and moved to join him in the center of the small room. As you began, you could feel it. This would work. 

…

Rehearsal on Thursday was so different, you could tell Kuiil was both surprised and over the moon with excitement.

From the moment the music started, you could feel it. You and Din were still dancing separately, still “meeting” each other in character, but you were working together. Something had shifted, since you talked and practiced and began to work together. And it might not be what it needed to be yet, but it was so much better than what it was before.

You could feel him moving across the space with you, and it was like a tentative connection formed between you that you could pull taut and release. It was almost like you were listening for each other, taking cues from changes in each other’s breath or even small movements. His body would echo one part of the music, and yours would follow another in response. You extended your leg, and something in the way he moved his shoulders responded to it. He turned, and you spun around, meeting him from a different angle. It felt good. It was new, but it was there. 

You ran through it once, and Kuiil looked like he might actually cry, or jump for joy.

“Oh, yes, yes!” He said, coming towards you in the middle of the room. He rested his hands on his hips and looked between you, smiling widely. “Yes, I knew it — I can see it forming within and between you. Well done, both of you. Could you feel it?”

You and Din both nodded, and he gestured widely with his arms. “Of course you could! The energy, you have found it. You are building it.” He nodded again. “I can see that you have talked, and settled more into your characters. Now we can truly get to work.”

And so you did.

…

February began to fly by, much faster than January, and with much more ease. You and Din found a rhythm together that actually worked. You were friendly, in the mornings in class, though he still hid behind his mask around the rest of the company. And then you started to become something more like actual friends when you were alone or rehearsing with Kuiil. 

Din seemed more comfortable with you than he had before, and that comfort allowed him to open up in a way you hadn’t seen him do yet in his dancing. Kuill began to focus on the second movement, when your characters circled each other, and you could see Din relaxing his form and beginning to open his movements beyond the emotionless technique that had been drilled into him at CBC. It was beautiful to watch — you were so impressed with him.

Two weeks later, rehearsals for Swan Lake had picked up, and so had your rehearsals for the pas de deux.

Kuill had just walked you through the crescendo of the second movement, which involved jumps, some partnered turns, and a complicated lift section. It wasn’t the first time Din lifted you in the choreography, but it was the first time you needed to rely on him and his support so completely, with two lifts and transition into a different hold. 

It wasn’t your first time being lifted by a partner, of course, but it was your first time doing something like this with Din. There was always a moment, when partnering with someone new, when you found out just how much you actually trusted each other. You didn’t need to be best friends to dance together well, but you did need to trust in the support of your partner. 

You shook out your arms and legs and rolled your shoulders. You trusted Din. He wasn’t hidden behind that expressionless mask anymore, not with you. I can do this.

Kuill started the music, and you twirled into action, leaping past Din. He caught your hand as you began to move away and spun you around him. You “fell” into a collapsed position over his arm, allowing the spin, and then he guided you upwards with light touches into an arabesque. He tugged you forward through traveling turns that crossed the stage, squeezing your hip just at the right moment to let you know when to stop. Finally you attempted to pull away, and he pulled you back and spun you in a circle into a tour jeté lift. As you landed he turned you again and lifted you upwards into a horizontal spin that finished with your hands resting on his shoulders as you stretched your legs into a fully extended split, perpendicular to the ground. You paused there, for just a moment, before he lifted you by your hips and then brought you back down gently. You sprang away instantly.

The music stopped, and you turned back to look at Din, breathing hard. You were both grinning. You froze, staring at how it transformed his face. He was beautiful. 

Kuill called out that that the lift was perfect, but that he wanted you to work on the build up to it. You almost couldn’t listen to him. You were too caught up in the feelings running through your body.

You’d never experienced anything like that before. The first attempt, and it was perfect — Din had lifted you seemingly effortlessly, and his hands had gone exactly where they needed to go. You’d communicated with each other through touch with ease. You had felt fully supported and able to truly perform to the music, even when in the air. You felt amazing. And you could see on Din’s face that he felt it, too.

“My dear?” Kuiil asked, stepping up beside you. 

You tore your eyes away from Din’s, finally, and realized you’d probably missed what he said. “Sorry! Again?” 

Kuiil nodded, and you ignored his knowing smile. He looked almost smug. “Again,” he agreed, and you stepped back towards Din.

When you looked at him again, you found he hadn’t looked away from you. “Again,” he murmured, echoing Kuiil. The look in his eyes made your breath catch.

It went just as well the second time. 

…

prev | next

a/n: such improvement!

Partnering: so in this chapter we get an extended partnering sequence. I tried to find moments that looked like what I was picturing for each piece, and they’re linked above (and they should take you to the right spot in each video) – the hand grab, the traveling turns, communication while partnering, a tour jete lift, and the lift into the split. I hope it makes sense! This video has a bit more about partnered turns (though they’re doing traveling ones here) and this one has more about what the guy is doing with his hands during those turns. I linked to different spots in this one a couple of times but the video overall is great because Mira Nadon shares some really interesting thoughts about what it’s like to work with a new partner. 

I’m going to talk more about Swan Lake next week because it’s more of a focus in the next chapter. 🦢

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

Xmas Stories From Moonlitwitchdaisy

❅ Concept: Hello everyone! I’m here with a concept I’m super excited about. We’re almost in December, and the Christmas spirit has already kicked in. So, this year, I’ve brought a little gift for everyone, whether you’ve been naughty or nice. I’ll be writing four different Christmas-themed one-shots. I honestly can’t think of a better combination than JJK boys + Christmas.

Before diving into the summaries of the one-shots, there are a few things I’d like to mention.

❅ First of all, the one-shots will contain mature content, so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! It’s only for +18 audience.

❅ Taglist is open. If you'd like to be tagged in a specific one-shot, please leave a comment with its name. You can ask to be tagged in more than one or even all of them. (I just wanted to mention this since not everyone might want to be tagged in all of them ♡)

❅ I’m planning to post the stories every Sunday.

❅ I’m not entirely sure how long the stories will be, but I can promise they won’t be super short. My priority is delivering the fun and vibe of the concept described in the summaries.

Alright then, if we’re past all that, take care of yourselves until the first story drops, and don’t forget to share your thoughts in the comments! Hope you enjoy it (ˆ⌣ˆ)

Last Christmas, I Gave You My A** (Gojo Satoru)

Last year, Gojo Satoru had been a good boy. Well, he’d at least tried. And in return, you gave him the one thing he’d been wanting for a long time. Your ass. That Christmas night was unforgettable for both of you, and you’d promised him that if he could manage to be a good boy again this year, you’d gladly give him what he wanted once more. But could your boyfriend really pull it off? Would he follow to the rules and earn his “dream ass” by next Christmas, or would he mess things up like always and end up on the naughty list?

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut ❅ modern au, santa-elf roleplaying

No One Should Be Alone On Christmas (Nanami Kento)

Ever since moving to Tokyo for work a month ago, you’d been drowning in loneliness. You hadn’t fully adjusted to the people or the city yet, and worse, you were about to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning all alone. At least, that’s what you thought. In an attempt to forget your loneliness, you went to a bar, where you met the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. Other than the fact that he, too, was spending Christmas alone and that he was devastatingly attractive, you knew absolutely nothing about him. If Christmas miracles were real, maybe you could spend this night—and the morning—in Nanami Kento’s arms.

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut, fluff ❅ modern au, one-night stand (?)

It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year! Or Not? (Geto Suguru)

Since the start of November, you’d been busy preparing for Christmas. Everything had to be perfect because this year you were going to celebrate it with your boyfriend and his two daughters. While you and the girls were bursting with excitement, your boyfriend didn’t seem to share the same enthusiasm. A day before Christmas, a huge argument broke out between the two of you, and he said something that shattered your holiday spirit: “You’re not my family.” Your excitement was completely crushed, and it looked like you’d be decorating the gingerbread house alone this year. Before it was too late, Suguru needed to realize his mistake and bring back your holiday spirit. And it seemed like he’d need his daughters’ help for this operation.

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut, angst, fluff ❅ modern au, happy ending

Everyone Deserves A Suprise On Christmas (Fushiguro Toji)

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t a good man. He was an alcoholic and a gambling addict, the black sheep of his family. He thought he was beyond redemption—until he met you. For the first time in his life, this man who believed he was unlovable learned what unconditional love truly felt like. And once he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, it didn’t take him long to put a ring on your finger. For your first Christmas as husband and wife, you had a big surprise planned for him. You knew Toji hated surprises, but this one was going to change both of your lives forever. How would your husband react to the news of the newest member of your family? Maybe surprises weren’t so bad—especially if they were made on Christmas.

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut, fluff ❅ modern au, accidental pregnancy

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

dividers by @estrelinha-s

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  7 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: things have just heated up, but the weather is getting colder. the early winter breeze brings in someone you really would prefer not to see.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6 | chapter 7

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Corinthians 13:4-7: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

The act had cracked open his heart or perhaps created more tender spots. 

Father Sylus generally perceived his life rationally, involving humility over pride. 

She had finally let him lay his hands on her, and maybe that was the most selfish thought he had ever had - thinking that she was made for him. After everything played out, her nervous glances and the embarrassment she showed. And yet, with the first real touch they could have, she dove into it with less hesitation, allowing for the most physical of interactions. The way the desire ignited in her gaze, like her body knew exactly what she wanted. It had consumed him, and he had given in right there, held at her mercy. This was something real that had taken place. 

Something almost sacred. 

It took the word ‘faith’ and made it physical and tangible. What was faith, really, but trusting in something greater than yourself and so much deeper than just being optimistic? 

For the first time, he realized there may be more meaning for him in the world, something beyond faith and what he had set in motion for himself. There was a shift in his path, and it would end in…well, he wasn’t entirely sure. The promise he had made to God was what brought him to this town in the first place. The first pangs of lust rose unintentionally and unwantedly. It was the feelings he didn’t expect. When she came to him - so nervous, so desperate, and the offer was laid bare, the absolute rawest version of her standing before him… 

Whether it was part of the Lord's plan or not, the outcome truly mattered. The details and circumstances were insignificant in comparison, and that was perhaps the most perplexing aspect of the entire experience.

“Father, are you listening?” Talia’s words interrupted his thoughts. 

Father Sylus blinked and raised his gaze, locking eyes with the woman sitting across from him in the small diner. Her intense blue eyes were firm and kind as she tightly held a cup of coffee. "I apologize, Talia. Could you repeat the question?"

“Something’s got you distracted.” She said, studying him. Her eyes squinted, leaving him to wonder exactly how perceptive she was.

To say she was perceptive would be an understatement; she was downright nosy.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the quiet, but usually you pay better attention. Everything okay? Are you getting another migraine? Need more Tylenol? Here, I have some right in here.” Her hand searched for the bottle in her bag resting on the seat beside her. 

Father Sylus coughed out a sharp, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No, no, that’s fine. I’m alright, honestly. Just a bit tired today, I guess.” 

It wasn’t completely a lie. It had been two days since he’d seen Y/N, and she’d been filling every moment of unoccupied thought with the memory of her scent, the sight of her. She hadn’t appeared after that evening, which was fine. Perhaps she was making time for her feelings, and it wouldn’t have been right for him to question her on it.

“Rafayel. I was talking about Rafayel.” 

At that, he straightened, pressing his palms to the cool laminate table top. “Yes, absolutely. Go ahead.” 

Of course. When was the woman not talking about her nephew, who had been giving her hell by simply existing in a world that wasn’t made for him?

Despite listening to her for months, he held back from saying what he really wanted to tell her: "What if the path you're urging him to take isn't actually what's best for him?" He couldn't help but think that someone as devoted as Talia should know not to force their religion onto others. The words were sitting on his tongue, but the need to come out and say it wasn’t there. He had no intention of being unkind or causing any unnecessary pain, especially to an older woman who was only doing her best.

Father Sylus parted his lips, “He’ll figure it out eventually. Just give him some room.” 

But the woman shook her head, sighing deeply. “Well, the last time we gave him “room, “he ran off to Europe and—” her mouth pressed into a thin line, deep in thought and deliberation. She obviously held some amount of disappointment or perhaps empathy about her nephew's situation. Somehow, at that moment, Father Sylus imagined the poor woman feared the worst.

“At least Y/N knows what she wants out of life, right?” Talia asked. “Still young, but a good head on her shoulders. Rafayel should be more like her, dontcha think?” 

The corners of his mouth curved up, unable to help it. Y/N was rather amazing , wasn’t she? He took a sip of coffee and said nothing. 

“Something funny?” Talia leaned forward.

He made a non-committal motion with his hand. “Just…how aware you seem to be of my parishioners' lives.” 

“Yeah,” the woman chuckled, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Well, you know as well as anyone, or perhaps better, that nothing is a secret around this town. Besides, Y/N is one of the sweetest girls around; everyone’s always going on about her.” 

“Why do you say that?” He needed more input. As much information as he could get, his pulse spiked in anticipation. It was like being thirteen and asking a neighbor about the girl down the street. 

Talia frowned. “Aren’t you familiar with her?” His expression must’ve given him away as her eyes brightened, and she laughed. “You really aren’t much on the gossip.” 

Again, he had no retort. She wasn’t exactly wrong. 

“She’s just a lovely person,” Talia concluded. “Always generous, though stubborn as an ox sometimes. Headstrong. But a good, gentle girl. Devout? Well, not really. But generous and kind.” 

Just another affirmation.

“Anyway,” she shook her head, smiling as she checked her watch. “I actually should run, I forgot I’m having company over.” She adjusted in the plastic chair, putting the bottle of Tylenol back in the bag and hoisting it over her shoulder. 

“You know, Father, you should really see about getting the boiler in the church fixed before it gets colder out. Something is wrong with that thing, It never gets fully warm .” 

Father Sylus gave her a gentle smile as he stood, waving her off. “Bless you, Talia.” 

“Do you think a blessing makes my prediction not true? Just because I was cursed with a smart mouth doesn’t mean your holy presence can stop it.” 

He laughed again, a sound that felt too loud. Talia crossed her arms in return, gesturing with her chin out of the window they had been sitting next to. “You know,” she told him, “Xavier is pretty good at that. Fixing things.”

With furrowed brows, the priest looked out the window at the hardware across the street - the one Y/N now stepped out of. He squinted, feeling lightheaded at the sudden jolt of his heart. Immediately, images of her beneath him resurfaced. The feeling of her skin on his, the overwhelming surge of bliss, as vivid as a splash of sunlight. 

She was removing one of the signs from the door, replacing it with a new one, most likely advertising a sale. 

“That is a good idea,” Father Sylus murmured, words tumbling from his mouth on their own. Eyes remained fixated on her as if she might disappear if he looked away. 

“Thanks. I have them sometimes.” Talia’s voice said somewhere in the background. 

“Well,” he nearly sighed. “Have a great day, then.” His brain became fuzzy, and some odd internal pull brought him away from the table. Had him paying and grabbing his jacket on autopilot. He pushed back the door and stepped out into the afternoon, stepping off the curb and right in front of a car. Brakes squealing, it stopped only a few feet from him. The driver shot him a glare as he stepped back onto the sidewalk, both hands held up in apology. 

“Hey! You alright, Father?” Y/N called, watching with wide eyes from the entrance of the store. 

“Just fine!” He returned a bright, albeit shaky smile, and hurried across the street before he could cause any road-related casualties. 

Something bright rose in Y/Ns expression, like something from a terrible romance movie. All the anxiety and tension fled as she motioned him towards her, resting her weight against the brick wall near the door. The corners of her lips curled up, “It’s good to see you.” 

Father Sylus opened his mouth, but his brain was short-circuiting. The way she looked at him made him weak. Why now, of all times, did he notice his internal struggle? 

“Yeah,” his voice cracked. Clearing his throat and straightening his jacket, he tried again. “Good to see you too, Y/N.” He took a step closer and let his focus brush over her cheeks, down her neck, resting for a moment on those lips. The ones that had been flush against his own a few days before. Searing and consuming kisses and a passionate embrace that had left him a little mindless for a good half hour afterward. 

“Listen,” he started, still a little dumstruck and distracted. 

She looked up at him expectantly, then tilted her head slightly, raising a brow. It was quite possibly the cutest thing he’d ever witnessed and all he could focus on as he tried to find the strength to continue. 

“Y/N, uh…” 

The door to the shop opened, and Xavier stepped out, causing them to take a noticeable step back.  

“The boiler.” Father Sylus blurted like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He winced internally. “The boiler at the church needs to be looked at.” 

The young man looked over, crossing his arms. “Does it make a banging sound when it heats up?” 

“Uh...” the priest glanced at the girl briefly, eyes pleading and lips twisting into a sheepish smile. “Yes? I don’t know much about it, though. How would we go about fixing it?” 

“Depends on what’s causing the problem.” Xavier shrugged. He wasn’t purposefully being unhelpful; he was just probably not looking to explain any unnecessary details. 

A gust of wind caught Y/N’s attention, and she shivered as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Xavier can do it; he’s a genius at anything like that. Aren’t you, Xavier?” 

Xavier didn’t look that impressed at the praise. “Sure.” 

“It wouldn’t be hard, no more than a few hours,” she continued. “Right?” 

Xavier gave her a nod, “Maybe less. I can take a look before this weekend. Tell your dad I went home when he gets back, okay?” The young man nodded to each of them before disappearing down the sidewalk.

Y/N turned to face Father Sylus directly. She gazed up with a mixture of happiness and wariness. It seemed to him that she was nervous about something, maybe struggling to find the right words. 

“Thank you,” Father Sylus found the gratitude he had been searching for earlier. “Thank you for the other day. I wasn’t sure if I said it before…” 

At that, Y/N smiled the softest of grins. “My pleasure, Father.” Her hand reached out, palm brushing against the back of his hand, thumb stroking lightly. His breath hitched at the simple touch. Gravity was pulling them closer together, and he followed that urge by wrapping a hand around hers, squeezing. A quick and surreptitious move. Even the most casual touches were intoxicating, thickening his blood with longing. 

“So,” she breathed softly, voice low, “other than the boiler, you’re good? Feeling okay? No more ‘migraines’?” There was no hesitancy, though she did smirk when asking. It was as if she was seeking the feelings and sensations, not hiding from them as she once might’ve. Or maybe he was too transparent. Either way, the words managed to settle some of the deep-rooted tension he’d been building. 

He returned her question with an exhale. “No, everything’s okay.” His hand slipped free, and a funny thought ran through his brain that now wasn’t the best place to try and talk. Out here, in the open. He nodded, straightening. “And you?” 

“Me?” She blinked, taking a step closer. “I’m great.” 

“That’s - that’s great.” 

“That’s great.” Y/N agreed, sounding a bit breathless. Her hand reached up, hovering over his bicep, then pulling back as if she caught herself before doing something she ought not to out in the open. “Well,” she said, her gaze trailing down his chest, then quickly back to his eyes. “Hope you’ll let me pay you back someday.” 

There was an unspoken question as if somehow she wanted to test whether he would cross that line again or if she would, and what they were expected to do if that was their direction. How something like this could work long term, or at all, without the world getting involved.  

More than anything, he wished to know how to avoid her getting hurt, as she had to deal with that recently. For her, he’d do his best. He had never seen someone so delicate and yet had the innate ability to break him in the same instant. 

Father Sylus took a step back, his heart pounding. Words alone were not going to resolve this situation. At least, not yet. “I’ve got to get going.” 

“Do you?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry.” 

She looked at him, contemplating before tearing herself away. “Then, I’ll see you later.” She raised a hand, reaching for the door handle, then looked back at him while chewing her lip. After the longest minute, Father Sylus gave her a nod and moved, finally turning his back, glancing over his shoulder once. That heavy pull tugged in his chest, heat twisting in his gut, begging to be acknowledged. 

One minute at a time, that was the only way to do this. There would be no future as a priest with her, yet - they were bound by a strange connection now. By unexplained forces that made the situation unique, and a lot he still needed to work through. Work through what made this feel like …prophecy, of all things.

“Father, wait.” 

He turned. 

Y/N pulled her cardigan tighter around her and let out a breath. Then she motioned to the store, looking at him. With a nod of understanding, he followed her inside. Not a word since it wasn’t needed.

Without warning or anything particularly romantic, she touched his shoulder, fingers stretching and trailing. Biting her lip as if fighting back a smile, she approached closer. His feet were nearly pressed against the toes of his shoes. She reached up, her fingers tracing along his jaw, eyes following the same path. Once, and then again, slowly, as if unable to break the wonder that she had. 

It was far too much and not enough. His hands grasped her hips, trying to memorize the way she leaned into him.  She raised her gaze back to his, chin tilted up. Her whole face lit up. 

It was easy to forget the world that stood beyond her. Easy to wish to drop the sense of duty and feel her warmth. But he would have to settle for her reaching up to kiss him. Soft. Chaste. A gentle and hesitant attempt, more or less. From her, that felt extraordinary. She was soft, and her movements were careful, trailing kisses along his jaw, leaving a fire trail in her wake. His nerves lit up like lightning, caught in the web she’d weaved. 

Pushing aside the momentary madness, he tilted his head to find her mouth waiting.

The second kiss was equally as breathtaking. Slower, but harder. A kiss that brought awareness, and she let out the softest moan. 

Father Sylus pulled back, looking at her with amusement. “Be careful,” he found himself saying. “I could get used to that.” 

Her eyebrow raised, and she smirked. “Then get used to it.”

“Thanks again for driving me out to the mall.” You told Rafayel, sinking lower into the seat and fidgeting with your scarf you hadn’t forgotten that morning. With your phone somewhere out in the woods, your friend had offered to take you on the half-hour drive for a new one. Now, you two had arrived back in town just in time for the first real cold snap of the season to settle in. 

“Oh no, don’t thank me. I’d do almost anything to escape Aunt Talia and her preachy gossip hour.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but the look he shot over at you as he parked along the main street told you not to bother. If there was one thing Rafayel was good at, it was bringing out the stubbornness in everyone. Being around him again made you realize he was still the most childish person you knew in a playful, endearing way. You pulled your new phone from your pocket as you exited the car, pulling your coat tighter around you. In the time that you were out, it had dropped a few degrees, and the biting cold set in.

Rafayel joined you on the sidewalk and opened the door of the coffee shop, holding it for you.

"What will you ever do if I'm not here to chauffeur you?" He asked, playfully bumping into you.

You returned the gesture, chuckling. "Walk."

"How dull ."

"Right? It'll be impossible to survive without you here saving me." You quipped.

"You're a doll for making sure that I still feel wanted."

His words made you remember something, and for a moment, you put your weight against the wall near the counter and simply studied his face. The man who had always been such a welcome presence, even as a teenager. His self-centered quirks almost faded when he smiled at you, replaced by a look you had difficulty placing. The look of someone who had a hard out in the world, and there was an unspoken understanding between you two that you hadn't fully acknowledged until that moment. You shifted a bit and tucked your hands into your pockets, opening your mouth to speak.

"Seriously, though, I know how difficult this must be for you. Moving back home, settling after your little...adventure."

Rafayel didn't respond immediately; instead, he focused on handing his credit card to the barista and ordering the drinks. He pulled out his phone, and the girl behind the counter handed you your orders. You thought maybe he wouldn't speak until he looked up at you.

"It has a lot of perks. Being so close to Talia is certainly not one of them, but it's as if I've gotten to start over. And this time, I want to do it right. I'm older now, and I can understand what kind of person I can be. More like you."

You stopped mid-sip and blinked. What did he mean, 'more like you'? What did he know about you? Licking the cream off your lips, you gave him a puzzled look.

"I'm going to stop being such a pompous ass." He said.

You laughed nervously, sputtering a bit and then clearing your throat as you set the drink down. "No offense, because you're pretty clever when you want to be, but please, for the love of - do not follow my example."

Rafayel snorted in response and rubbed at his jaw, "Who said anything about 'following your example'? Just thought it would be nice to be more mindful." He reached out to hold the door open for you again, a sign of your return to the outside.

Cold air spread through your jacket, and your heart flitted as a memory sparked.

Father Sylus gave you a little smile, dimples and all, and you fell. Backward, it seemed. There was a flicker in the vision. A dazed high that you knew would stay forever and ever in your core. That evening. The briefest moment of letting go, just for a bit, just to have the pleasure of feeling hands.

Of feeling more.

Pinpricks traveled from your neck, cascading through your chest. Glancing down at your phone, you collided with another form, someone solid who caught you by the elbows, pulling you upright. As your coffee cup flew to the ground and your phone nearly slipped from your hand, you looked up to give whoever it was who nearly caused your stumble a piece of your mind.

You were met by a pair of hazel eyes framed in silver-rimmed glasses and a look of intense surprise on his face.

It took a moment, too long, but as soon as it registered, you froze, the rest of the world shutting down.

"Zayne. Hi," your voice cracked.

He gawked, grip tightening a bit on your elbows, brow wrinkling before he released you.

"Y/N," the whisper of your name carried so many mixed emotions. His expression broke, revealing a look of shock before quickly fixing it, shifting back to one of control and neutrality. It was much too practiced and not enough to really fool you. "It's you."

Something deep resonated, and you inhaled sharply, taking a step back. There was no fucking way this was happening. No fucking way this day was going like this. No fucking way this man was standing in front of you. Your mind blanked, any clear idea darting around and disappearing in its wake. You suddenly wanted to cry, to scream, to puke all over his shoes.

"What are you doing here?" You heard yourself ask. An automated response.

You watched as Zayne cautiously glanced toward Rafayel, standing next to you with wide eyes, lips parted, and ready to fight. Zayne's hands rose slightly in defense, recognizing he'd set off a land mine.

"Y/N." His face fell, and again, a genuine relief. Sad. Guilty. Something. "You weren't answering my calls. I -" another glance toward your friend, and his lips pressed into a line. Zayne inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, eyes landing back on you. And suddenly, you were reminded of what drew you to him in the first place: those eyes. The kindness and the truth there. But now...

"What the fuck , Zayne." It was half whine and half plea.

Suddenly, Rafayel grabbed your arm, gently tugging you closer. His arm is locked around your shoulders, glaring glacial. "If it isn't the Prince of Parcheesi."

The 'Prince' straightened his posture. "Excuse me?"

You pointed an accusatory finger, "I asked you a question. What the hell are you doing here? "

You knew Zayne was a man of great patience, but even he couldn't have enough to deal with the two of you. "I was just wondering if I could...talk to you, Y/N."

"You flew across the country to talk to me?!"

"Drove, actually, and no." He flinched as the words left his lips and looked as if he hadn't thought through this plan until just then. A blush crept up his cheeks, and his hand adjusted the glasses perched on his nose. Was that cute or obnoxious? Either way, the sight was irritating and endearing, all in a nauseous mix. "Maybe."

You felt something weird, like a light pull, drawing a magnetism. It was easy to slip into what you felt for him , regardless of everything. It was always there. Mixed with disgust and anger.

"Well, you can't, so, uh, fuck off," Rafayel said.

Then there was the shame. Pure and unfiltered shame , along with a sort of helplessness that stuck and settled. The feeling resurfaced in the back of your throat. And with Zayne staring at you with that damned broken expression, sadness and hurt over losing something close. Your breath came out unintended. Eyes stinging. Why did he have to show up again now ? Hadn't you dealt with enough already? Weren't you due for a fucking break already?

"Alright," Zayne answered quietly. "That's okay, I understand, and I hope-"

"Hey, dumbass."

"Excuse me?"

Despite the emotional crisis, Rafayel stood as a pillar, and suddenly, despite the heaviness and suffocation that came with so much unwanted stimulation, he seemed to really be the key to holding it all together. Thank God for him. As much of an idiot and a wild child as he was, he managed to bring you back to the right here and the right now.

"Did I fucking stutter?"

Zayne was shocked to silence, blinking his hazel eyes, "Do I - do I know you ?"

"Exactly why, pray tell, is a self-important prick like you anywhere near our neck of the woods?"

"I'm getting divorced." Clearly, this was something Zayne wanted to tell you in private. You could tell by the way his voice practically faded out, and you went completely numb. It was like the phrase dropped into a stormy sea, drowning out into the water, getting pulled under and lost to the depth.

You imagined Rafayel had heard it based on his sharp exhale. Perhaps he even felt a little bad for his colorful choice of words. For a moment, you stayed rigid, your hand sliding down and grabbing hold of Rafayel's hand, which was tight and uncertain. Just to hold onto something, even if it felt silly.

"You don't owe him shit," Rafayel leaned and whispered. The reminder was appreciated, if needed, and loud enough for the other man to hear. This had nothing to do with you or what happened. Or maybe it did. Fuck. None of that mattered, did it? Because nothing could ever happen between you and him again. Whatever relationship there was could never, should never, would never. Even if the whole divorce was due to the hurt you'd caused.

God, you had done that.

There wasn't a way to focus anymore; your brain simply fizzled. Out and empty. Almost like the second, you knew Zayne was there, a huge barrier just came down, releasing every little ache and desire you still held onto for him. All the suppressed 'what ifs' and the hope of healing. And happiness.

Yet there was a heaviness, too, knowing he couldn't be yours because he was never free in the first place.

It had to sink, but you could feel a rage slowly taking over, along with a hollow agony that had haunted you.

"I can't breathe." You felt yourself take a staggered breath and another, pain catching in the back of your throat.

Without a second thought, you decided you had to leave. Quickly. As quickly as possible. That part, at least, was clear in the madness.

Zayne stepped closer, leaning forward in alarm and worry. "Y/N, I'm so sor -"

"Don't," was your only response. You sniffed, tears in the corner of your eyes. Rafayel was quick, giving the bespectacled fool the nastiest glare known to man as he wrapped his arm around you again and turned you toward the car.

"Y/N, will you please-" Of all the times for the doctor to be persistent.

"No."

"I can explain, I swear, I- please."

"Fuck off."

There was nothing else to say, however, because that second, you were confident that this was, in fact, your old hometown, and this was the man you'd let consume all your fantasies and wishes not that long ago. Your voice was loud enough to grab the attention of the others who dared to be on the sidewalk. Not that they bothered to do anything more than gawk.

Your hands shook, your heart pounding right out of your throat and chest as you got into the passenger seat. As soon as the door closed, Rafayel went around to the driver's side, the slam of the door jolting you.

"Damn," Rafayel muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror as he put the car in gear.

Tears were slipping down your cheeks, hot and sticky and just fucking uncomfortable. Disappointment did that, no matter how well-deserving the end result was.

"Fuck, fuck," you hissed, rubbing at your cheek to try and wipe the wetness away. It didn't work. The car started moving, and you gripped the handle above you, trying to straighten your back, trying to focus on literally anything to get your damn thoughts to come back together.

Rafayel didn't ask, make any guesses, or make any more offhanded comments. Once the speed increased and his grip on the steering wheel loosened, he focused on driving instead. But knowing how confused he was for you didn't take a psychic.

Inhaling sharply, you held it and then released, shuddering again. "I need a Xanax."

"Just try to keep it together a while longer, okay?"

"He just had to fucking show up like that and ruin it."

"I know."

"That's...what..." you stopped. Your mind is fuzzed; everything is going through, flashing at different speeds and scenes of your relationship. It was everything and nothing. Emptiness, followed by the familiar weight of regret. Pain. Worry. The fear you'd been dealing with for months, but the one thing that broke, sinking in finally after forcing it so far down, was the loss of the possibility. Zayne was married, and he was getting divorced, and all those missed phone calls might've been him trying to share that. Run back to you, just to have something. You'd always seen him as someone who could truly never belong to himself.

You couldn't find the energy to wipe away any more of your tears, so you left them to slowly dry against your jawline and into the lining of your scarf.

"He said he drove," you told Rafayel. "That means he's not leaving anytime soon, which means-"

"It's all going to suck."

After about ten minutes of quiet and blank, empty thought, the car moved slowly through the neighborhood. When it pulled into your driveway, it was a surprising relief.

"Will you be okay alone?" Rafayel asked.

"Probably not, but I want to be."

"Okay, well, your mopey mug has seen enough action for today. You're heading inside to take a little day nap, and when you wake up, you will feel better, and everything will look less confusing, yeah?" He reached into the back of the car, pulled out his messenger bag, and dug into it. You wiped one eye with your sleeve, cringing and taking a deep breath as you did the same with the other. Then there was a bottle of pills in his hand. "And take a fuckin' Xanax."

You held your hand out and looked down at the blue pill pressed into your palm. You didn't hesitate to pop it in, mouth dry and sticky as you managed to force it down without water. "God bless you, you crazy sonofabitch."

Rafayel shrugged, shaking the bottle before shoving it back in the bag, "Anything for my friend, Y/N."

"Mm." Somehow, a smile made it to your lips, your face a bit numb. You stared blankly at the center console for a moment before turning to Rafayel. His expression was determined, and his lips twisted, looking a touch less than steady. It took a few seconds for the message to click until you realized he meant it. He'd been honest.

You nodded, closing your eyes.

"Anything, Y/N. Call if you need me."

"I fucked Father Sylus." You blurted out, unable to bear the confusion. His eyebrows raised.

"What the actual fuck? Of all things, why would you say that ?"

"Because I think I really like him."

"Jesus Christ. You really did it, huh?"

Then you were all out bawling, and you thought that perhaps it was Lindsey who cursed Stevie in the first place.

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

A/N: I found this tiktok the other day and it made me LOL and actually gave me the motivation to edit this chapter and post it. If you find any relatable tiktoks, please send them. I beg you.

[silverjirachi]

saw a post on here that i dont want to be negative on and detract from but it made me realize that yeah. my parents would choose their faith over their child. and have. neither of them said i love you or goodbye the day i came out, after i wrote a big long letter to them explaining more about my gender and bisexuality, in which i compared being trans to the stress of being a moth when everyone expects you to be a butterfly, my father told me i had “better be celibate or else i’d not only be a moth but a dirty one too.”

and it is hard to look past the hurt of this sometimes and realize that it is just cruelty. they are so rigid about god they would rather bring the hammer on their own suffering child than examine their own belief system and admit maybe they were wrong. or at the very least, learn something.

but my mother told me once she was “too old to learn something new” and my father has been very consistent and open about the order of priorities in his life, which he has constantly repeated are “#1 God, #2 Family, #3 Self” but it is of my opinion in being this way to his own child he has actually chosen to put Self before all, because he would rather not violate his own invented priorities than extend empathy for his child. Because in his set of priorities, to do so would violate #1, and to violate this set of priorities harms no one but himself.

but why do I call such priorities invented? Isn’t that the rule we are taught in our faith? Well in my faith I learned that God is imminent within everything. So this hierarchical priority list sets a false expectation of reality that simply doesn’t exist. Why must every situation in life default to this hierarchy? Why must your expression of love be tiered? Why would you rather conform to this tiered and hierarchical structure that suppresses those you love underneath others than understand that each gives equal and unique value and is shifting priority at different times? Not only that, but to venture out of this constructed hierarchy for two seconds to examine other aspects of our faith that say that God is in our words and our actions, and thus by merely holding the intention in your heart with words you say and actions you do you can actually still prioritize him at all times without subjugating others beneath him.

But what do I know? I wasn’t raised by these same staunch Christians or anything. I certainly don’t know that hierarchies of power thrive on fear and that in fact these actions of cruelty to your family and children, in this model, are actually expressions of love. Because if you don’t conform to God’s expectations, then you don’t get into heaven, so anyone who tries to quash any sense of nonconformity out of you is actually looking out for the best interest of your soul. It is hard to explain to someone who has built an entire lifetime on fear of being punished that their actions of cruelty are not expressions of love.

When my parents hit me as a child, this was not an expression of love. This was an expression of power and fear. I had done something wrong that I didn’t know better and from their worldview the only way to “teach” me correctly would be to make me suffer a corporeal punishment. This did nothing but make me fear and distrust them. This did nothing but drive extreme distance between us, and yet my parents would call these expressions of love. Because I was learning the proper way to behave. And not only this, but this understanding of discipline is indeed false, because I work with young children every summer and never once have had to even think about raising a hand to them to get them to understand. These priorities are the same.

Their actions were cruelty. It’s as simple as that. They were disrespectful and unkind, and they drove the final wedge that made me understand that they would rather hang tightly on in fear to the expectations of their own faith than share joy with me at my hypothetical gay wedding. And why would I do them the disservice of inviting them to such an event, an event that may ask them to compromise their own values, when I already know what path they have chosen? Perhaps the expression of love to them, then, is keeping them away. But I do wonder if they’d still feel this way if they weren’t invited to my wedding.

When I was 18 and going into college my mom told me that “my beliefs were very strong, and to never do anything that compromised my values.” And I never have. I never have.

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

The last one I did may have been in September. 👀 Been a long time. Haven’t really been writing much fanfic. Stuck on different papers for school. I was tagged by @evolnoomym and she shared ideas so I will too! ❤️ @pr3ttynpiink also tagged me and looks to be cooking up some fun new fics. 🥰

I want to write something for Modern Din and Christmas to go in my series: This is the Neighborhood Din, but it will likely need a chapter between that to make sense. (Every so often I care about making sense). Also more Luke doing Jedi yoga on his lawn and Poe & Finn being boyfriends because I want it all!

I need to write a new chapter of Weddings 101 with Dieter. Kinda left on a cliffhanger and a lot happened in my mind that should be posted 🤣

There’s a little over a month until the DMAMC 2025 challenge is due, haven’t written anything. Actually forgot about it, but fear not! I’ll think of something. 👀 My character is Pero Tovar (I doomed myself by picking him 😭 like the level of difficulty). But maybe I’ll revisit a pairing I’ve done.

Random but working on a Baldur’s Gate 3 fic and bugging @perotovar (Erin beta read for me what I have so far), @megamindsecretlair reads the snippets I send her and @soft-persephone looks at the pics I send her and is honest 🤣🤣🤣). Everyone’s favorite moody (for many a legit reason) and murderous pale elf who’s a vampire Astarion and an OFC. Things that happened between these two: a lot of staring, mocking Gale (everyone’s favorite past time- he makes it easy but also the wizard is really nice insane like everyone else but nice), drying some hair, hugs and some tears. Lots of angst, fluff and comfort. Haven’t decided on smut yet, is likely but I’ll see how it reads.

Didn’t realize that A Safe Place for Us was up to chapter 7 on AO3 and only 5 on Tumblr 👀 My bad. I should be able to post one chapter on here before November ends. The formatting and graphics take me the longest. 🤓

I also have a secret Santa fic things I’m supposed to be working on for a discord group but I also have not started. 👀 Unsure of which direction it should go in. I’ll figure it out, eventually I think.

The first paragraph of chapter five of “A Safe Place for Us”:

Waking up to Dieter takes getting used to for Aisha. It’s not unwelcome, she’s just not used to someone clinging to her like he does. Every morning he stays at her apartment is one where he has his arm and head somewhere on her. Chest, stomach, thigh, back, ass one time because he enjoys scissoring her entrance wider and scooping his spend that drips out of her back in before pumping his fingers to stir his cum within her.

Yeah…chapter five is…a ride so to speak. 👀 Forgot we had a strong start.

I found a WIP that contains Marcus Pike angst:

His romantic relationships and come and gone just like yours but you always had each other. Though, you treated yours as ways to work off the need you felt for your friend. To distract yourself, even when you were with your other partners, you’d think of him during the throws of passion, even when having simple meals and they may chew too loudly. You loathed your behavior toward your partners and your friend, biting your lips to not utter his name while under someone else.

“Marcus…”

Is the only name you want to say but can’t.

Hmm….might be a good holiday one or something. 🤔

That’s the ideas for now. Always a lot and never finished. ✅ Would it be Nerdie if they were? 😎

Have a happy Thanksgiving, holiday, days off of work and stay safe!

NPT: @chaithetics @schnarfer @inept-the-magnificent @yopossum @djarinmuse @604to647 @secretelephanttattoo @magpiepills @maggiemayhemnj @murder-wife @sin-djarin @syd-djarin @morallyinept @westside-rot @tinytinymenace @sunshinehaze1 @soft-girl-musings @goodwithcheese @jolapeno @bluestar22x @clawdee @romanarose @beefrobeefcal @bitchesuntitled @bitchwitch1981

[canonicallyobserving911]

“I can’t imagine anything more painful than going through life alone. Except maybe one thing… going through death alone.”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

New Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - 8x6 "Confessions" through mid-season finale CODA or a "Fix it": “I can’t imagine anything more painful than going through life alone. Except maybe one thing… going through death alone.”

Chapter 6 is now available on AO3.

“I can’t imagine anything more painful than going through life alone. Except maybe one thing… going through death alone.”

Fic Summary: Eddie feels completely alone, he isolates himself and the weight of it causes him to slip into a deep depression. Once he accepts the fact that he’ll die alone, he has a decision to make regarding his life. Buck finally gets clarity about his relationship status and once he does, realization sets in and he becomes frustrated that he didn’t see it coming. Will they finally figure out they’re each other’s person before it’s too late?

Currently 6 of 10 chapters completed: 85.7K Words; Rated: Teens and Up Audiences

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

Here's a snippet from Chapter 6 of Buck and Eddie talking while they're sitting inside of a restaurant and their eating breakfast.

___________

Eddie uses his napkin to wipe his mouth and after he takes another sip of his coffee, he says, “Buck, I’m going to be honest with you and explain that this is not going to be easy because my mom is controlling and when she wants something, she nags and belittles people… including family members until she gets it. She tries everything to undermine the other person and the things she says will hurt. I said all of that to say… this fight to get Chris won’t be easy and if she proceeds with a custody battle it’s going to be bad.”

Buck doesn’t break eye contact with him because he’ll do whatever it takes to help Eddie get his son back. He knows Eddie’s a great dad because he’s witnessed it with his own two eyes and he knows how much Eddie loves his son.

“When I changed my will, I should have told you about it but I didn’t and there’s a reason but I’m not in a good enough headspace to get into that yet. Once this stuff with Chris is resolved and I’ve unpacked it all in therapy, we’ll discuss it but me naming you to be his legal guardian was the best decision I’ve ever made. It wasn’t fair for me not to tell you about it and for that I apologize but it’s like I said before, I know you’ll fight for him the same way I do and that’s what I want for him. This custody battle will be ruthless and we both saw what Hen and Mara went through to get their foster license back but this is different. Things are likely to get very messy really fast and I want you to know that I understand if you don’t want to go with me. So, before we leave here to go to the airport…” He trails off when Buck starts talking.

“Eddie?”

“I’m serious, Buck. I understand and I’ll pay for your airfare, so you won’t have to worry.”

How will Buck respond to Eddie's offer to pay for his airfare so he won't have to go to El Paso? 👀

___________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie’s avoiding conversations with everyone at the 118 to prevent having to talk about how lonely he feels. On the other hand, Buck excitedly prepares to spend a romantic weekend with his boyfriend only to learn something he should already know.

Chapter 2 - Eddie appears to be happy whenever he’s at work but the truth is he’s masking his high-functioning depression with smiles and laughter. After another call with Chris, he falls deeper into depression and for the second time since he’s been living in L.A., he considers risking it all because he has nothing to lose. Since Buck’s got clarity on his non-existent romantic relationship, his fear of being left behind resurfaces and it causes him to spiral and he thinks he’s lost everything. In his search for answers to his relationship problems, he starts asking the questions he should have asked years ago.

Chapter 3 - Both Buck and Eddie experience déjà vu numerous times over the course of three days and during those encounters, Buck’s reminded of his own definition of love while defining moments from Eddie’s past resurface and he finally forces himself to confront them.

Chapter 4 - As Eddie hits rock bottom, he has a difficult time trying to pull himself back up and Buck does what he always does, he never gives up.

Chapter 5 - Buck’s inside Eddie’s home and he’s standing right in front of him explaining he’s here to help. Eddie’s happy to see him and he’s finally ready to make several confessions about the things that have been happening and the way he’s been feeling.

Chapter 6 - As Buck and Eddie prepare to leave Los Angeles for El Paso, Eddie initiates another conversation with Buck regarding his will and before it ends, they’ll outline a parenting and legal guardianship plan that will prove they’ve been coparenting Chris for the last 7 years and the way they’ve been doing it is in Chris’ best interest.

Chapter 7 - Will be posted soon.

Chapter 8 - Will be posted soon.

Chapter 9 - Will be posted soon.

Chapter 10 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read: chapters 1 - 6 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[cosmos-coma]

Winter Mountain Soldier Spy- Part 2

A/N: Look at me not taking a month to post a new chapter! lol. I'm happy to get this one going and get writing again. I put one of my favorite songs into this chapter that I think really suits our beloved Winter Soldier (Take Back - Odie Leigh). Enjoy!

Pairing: Winter soldier!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Words: ~2994

Bucky Masterlist | AO3

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

________

“Mmph….”

The Winter Soldier let out a quiet huff as he woke, his eyes blurry with a depth of sleep he had rarely felt before. Slowly he blinked the haze away as he sat up from the floor, the bed’s comforter folded beneath him as a makeshift mattress.

He had tried sleeping in the bed- he really did- but it was far too soft. Like sinking into a powdery snow drift, every second he tried to endure felt like another moment closer to inevitable suffocation. Even the plush blanket you had put aside was more than he was used to, but for once he allowed himself the pleasure. 

A silent wince swept across him as he sat up, his hand instantly finding one of the many bullet wounds dappling his back. His fingers came back clean- no blood- a good sign.

As he breathed a sigh of relief, the sounds of clinking and clanging finally registered in his ears. They were soft, yet still distinct as they danced through the closed door, their source- he figured- being the kitchen just below. Instinctively, his shoulders tensed in anticipation, his eyes scanning for a makeshift weapon to face the threat, until-

until a voice came.

Soft and easy, your voice sang a slow unrecognizable tune. It was only then that the prior evening came rushing back to him in a whirlwind; fleeing HYDRA, nearly getting hit by a car, and finally, being brought here- to a house in the middle of nowhere- by a persistently nice stranger who insisted on bandaging him up. 

How could he forget?

Quickly making his way to his feet and getting dressed, he silently padded down the creaky wooden stairs. Slow, practiced feet traversed each step, finding the quietest path with minimal effort as his assassin instincts refused to take a back seat.

As his feet hit the bottom of the stairs he turned toward the continuous noise, a slight frown to his expression until he saw… you. 

There you stood. The vivid orange of sunrise seemed to maneuver through the mountains and snow-covered trees just to wash over you. Your skin glowed with an alluring warmth that left his fingers twitching with the mere thought of its sensation. You hadn’t noticed him yet- your voice still soft and quiet in an attempt not to wake him. Your mind was far elsewhere, distracted by making breakfast and the melody that hung in the air around you.

He dared not speak as the song slowly faded out and a new one began, a small smile resting on your lips as you sang yet another unfamiliar tune. Though he’d never been one for music as far as he could remember, listening to you sing seemed to quell a storm he didn’t realize had occupied him. For the first time in a long time, he knew what it meant to feel at ease. Tense shoulders relaxed, letting out a soft breath as he deflated back to normal.

Yet, even amongst his newfound calm, every word in your song made his brain itch in a way he wasn't yet familiar with.

“Baby… If I can even call you that. You know I'm struggling to remember- I mean, I’m struggling to forget.

Lately, I’ve been so caught inside my head; I swear I haven’t lived in weeks- been daydreaming instead.”

Your toothy smile lit up the room effortlessly as your head nodded along to the tune. You sang as you cracked another egg into the pan and all he could do was watch and listen.

“I bet money his memory is hazed... It’s not too out of character, we paved the path that way.”

You flipped a pancake in another pan, your voice easy with practiced familiarity.

“I’m missing full night's sleep- I'm missing meals, no drinks. I miss believing words are said, words that are said to me.

And now he’s gone again, stuck on my phone again- Just waitin’ on someone-”

You grinned as you prepared two plates. 

“-I’m not waitin’ on no one…”

Your voice bubbled with a determined sort of joy as the song turned and your expression refused to fade.

And while I hope, that my pictures on your shelf when I get home. Don’t wanna see nobody else I wanna hold me accountable for things I did myself….

Don’t wanna see nobody else.

I’m gonna take back some of my time, I'm gonna take back some of my time, I'm gonna take back some of my time, I'm gonna take back…

Take back…”

As the song ended you turned, and upon seeing him, smiled with a brightness that left him feeling like he got kicked square in the chest. His breath was completely gone, his chest achingly void yet completely overfilled, and all he could do was stare. 

“You’re still here…” You said, turning down the radio a little, “I wasn’t sure if you would stay or not, but…”You grinned, “I’m glad you did. I made breakfast just in case,” You added as you handed him a large plate full of pancakes, eggs, and sausages.

Surprise could barely hide on his face as he took the plate from you. A full breakfast…? Were you sure…? As if on cue his stomach rumbled, intent on making its hunger known far and wide. 

But you just laughed and waved him on as you headed toward your regular seat at the kitchen table, your own loaded plate in tow, “Come on, let’s eat…” you said, motioning to the jams and syrup you already had out, “and there’s more than enough for seconds, so please don’t hold back.”

Slowly he slid into the seat across from you, his expression reserved as he watched you make the first few moves. That same radiant orange light still fell over you, though much more dappled now as it filtered through the layers of branches. Your actions were simple. You grabbed a jar of jam and spread it over your pancakes, then you reached for the milk, adding it to your coffee; they were all such simple actions. Such simple normal actions….

And it gave him immeasurable comfort. 

He copied your movements as he watched you go about your routine.

He tried his first set of pancakes with jam, enjoying its sharp, but sweet flavor, yet to him, the second stack reigned supreme; drizzled perfectly with syrup so that each bite was as sweet as his last. Then he tried the coffee, adding milk and sugar much like you, but recoiled immediately as an overwhelming level of sweetness flooded him. He had added far too much, but, despite your laughter, you were more than happy to get him a fresh cup and let him try again.

With HYDRA he only got what was strictly necessary. Meals were bland and lukewarm, with only the essential nutrients and nothing more. Water was about the only thing they were lenient with, but even that had its limits. 

But now hot food sat pleasantly in his belly and spices danced across his nose and tongue. He had had a feast fit for the greatest of kings and one more than worthy enough to celebrate his newfound freedom.

Yet still, the normalcy of it all buzzed in the back of his mind. The breakfast spread out across the table, the music in the background; It was a life that, weeks ago, he could only have imagined; catching nothing more than bits and pieces through the lens of his scope.

The radio mumbled on quietly, the only noise between you besides the scraping of utensils, but he liked it that way. Looking over, he noticed a small smile still lingering in your expression, perhaps a sign that you enjoyed the busy silence as well.

As the two of you finally finished you rose to your feet and gathered the dirty dishes to start washing up. 

At first, the Soldier just watched, at a loss for what you were doing, but soon stood to get a closer look, watching silently over your shoulder.

You felt the gaze of those bright blue eyes run over you and you looked back, “Did you want to help?” You asked.

At first, his brow furrowed, but then he nodded, “What can I do?” He took a step closer, the concept of personal space not seeming to exist in his mind as he slid in close beside you. 

You could feel the warmth radiating off of him where he stood, his large frame taking up space comfortably. Strong, sleeved arms brushed against yours, as he settled in, taking the drying rag you had offered. “I’ll wash and you can dry, okay?” You smiled, handing him the first dish.

He nodded and did exactly as you instructed, his expression far more serious than necessary for the simple act of drying dishes.

You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as you glanced over, his drawn-together brows deep in concentration as he meticulously dried each and every dish before setting it aside.

He frowned, looking over at your barely stifled laughter as he finished another pan “What?”

You shook your head, a grin still plastered on your lips, “Nothing...! Nothing, you just-“ you laughed a touch, looking over at his down turned expression, “You look so serious doing this. Like the pans owe you money or something,” you grinned.

But he didn’t smile back, instead, he looked back down at the pans, not a speck of water left on their shining surfaces, “… I just wanted to be good….” He whispered.

Your heart nearly melted into your feet. His tone was so soft and earnest,  he really only wanted to do good by you and it made your heart swell and burst and melt and flutter all at the same time. You shook your head, your expression soft and warm, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. You really are doing a great job,” you held out one last plate in his direction, “Here, last one, okay?”

Warm lightly calloused fingers found yours as he went to grab the plate, sending warm pins and needles rushing through your forearm. With a short gasp, you flinched back- shocked, but not appalled, at the sudden sensation. Carelessly the plate slipped through your fingers, clattering to the floor with a violent crash that sent a wave of broken ceramic running in all directions.

“Ah!” you yelped in surprise, your instinct to move away from the noise, unfortunately, stronger than your know-how to stay put. Sharp pain gripped your foot as you stumbled back, like small teeth digging relentlessly into your flesh.

“Fuck!” You cursed and tried to step back into safety but the pain persisted, “Shit- damn it…!” you cursed again and looked down to the bottom of your foot. Blood began dripping down from your sole, a little piece of broken plate lodged firmly in the small cut.

The Winter Soldier’s eyes widened with concern as he saw red hit the floor. He had been given a dream-like start to the day and he’d already tainted it with blood. His hands reached out to help but hesitated for a moment. These hands have already hurt so many, he didn’t want to hurt you any further, “I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no, no” you interrupted him with a slight frown, carefully picking out the small shard, “No, I’m sorry… I’m the one who dropped it.” You sighed still holding your foot up as another drop of blood fell, “Fuck… Okay, would you mind- whoa!”

With surprising swiftness and little effort, he scooped you up as if you weren’t every bit of the woman you were. He held you close against his chest, his grip as gentle as he could allow as he took careful steps here and there, avoiding the needle-like shards, until you both arrived in the living room.

He set you down on the coffee table, just as you had done for him the day before, and moved his attention to your wounded foot.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine-“

“Please…” he interrupted with a surprisingly soft yet pressing voice, “Let me help…. Let me be good….” Large blue eyes looked up at you, pleading with you to let him do just this much. His hands hovered over your leg as he waited patiently for your response.

Blinking with surprise you nodded slowly. You couldn’t understand what being good had to do with it all, but with such quiet urgency, it clearly meant a lot to him, “Okay….” You agreed.  

It was impossible to ignore the delicate way he touched you, his fingers brushing your ankle tenderly as he looked over the cut on your foot. It left your chest aflutter as warm static radiated out from his touch. It was subtle at first, just a hint of a feeling, like a lover’s warm breath against your skin, but it only grew.

He nodded and with his characteristically intense and careful eyes he scanned over your wound, nodding again before stepping away to find the first aid kit, retracing your steps perfectly from yesterday.

You had to smile to yourself as he came back to you, first aid kit in tow along with another expression of determination that you weren’t sure fit the severity of the situation, but that seemed to suit him all the same.

With a tender touch, he cleaned and wrapped your foot, hiding the wound away under a layer of gauze to let it heal in peace.

“Thank you… really,” you said as you brought your foot up to poke and prod at the new bandage, “and maybe while we’re here, we can change out your bandages? I’m sure they’ve soaked up plenty enough by now”

He nodded, his voice gentle as a small smile crept upon his lips, “Okay….”

With a few ushering waves of your hand you two easily changed places, your bad leg kneeling on the sturdy table as you stood behind him. One after the other, you peeled each bandage off slowly and marveled at the state of their healing.

Each one had already healed up on its edges and was now trying to close. You were amazed, to say the least. Though it wasn’t at an otherworldly rate, each wound looked like it had already healed over a few days time, however even at this rate you were sure it would still take some time.

“So…  You really have no name..? Nothing besides ‘The Winter Soldier’….?” You finally asked over his shoulder as you pressed the fresh gauze against his muscled back, “I mean- I’m glad I can refer to you as something other than ‘the tall dark stranger’-” You jested with a small smile, but he didn’t seem to get it, “-but it feels wrong to just call you a soldier and nothing else…” 

“Hmm,” he hummed quietly, nodding a bit and pausing as if he was looking for an answer that would please you, “I was soldier number 001….” He said, obviously unknowing of the implications of his words. He gazed into the mirror across from him as you worked, watching your emotions twist as he spoke. 

You frowned harshly, locking eyes with him through your reflection, “You were numbered…?” You sighed as you continued, shaking your head, “I’m so sorry….” Your hand smoothed across his skin as you laid the last piece of tape down, your touch lingering subconsciously. 

Sparks still danced across his skin beneath your touch, radiating a comforting warmth that he had yet to grow accustomed to, but that he never wanted to be without. He wanted your hands on him always, whether it was wiping blood away from his brow or simply brushing a stray hair from his cheek. He wanted nothing more than to be held in the crackling fire of your palms and hold you in return. 

He wondered if you felt the same heat and fire he did, if you too felt the bubbling of energy beneath your skin when you touched- Or if... to you, he was just coldness. Only the cold of smooth metal and nothing more.

“Well, how about…” You continued with a hum, interrupting his swirling thoughts,  “Maybe I can call you ‘Winter’?”

Icy blue eyes softened a bit as you asked. You really wanted to give him a name..?

“It’s always been my favorite season,” you smiled as you packed up the remainder of the kit, “something about the cold, muffled silence of the snow and pine trees looming above…” you hummed as you reminisced on the recent days. “The way the moon and stars reflect off the snow at night? making it as bright as a cloudy day?” You grinned now, ducking your head to hide your expression behind his shoulder, “It always made me feel at home….”

Something cracked and shifted unknowingly in the Winter Soldier as you said that; it was small- barely noticeable- but something had already found its way in and it was here to stay.

The corners of his lips turned up, his heart beating with a little more sense of purpose now. “… I would like that…” 

“Yeah?” You lifted your head, smiling again over his shoulder at his reflection. “Well then, Winter.” You happily emphasized, your smile never faltering, “You should be all patched up now. Your wounds are looking better than I expected.” You handed his shirt back to him and took one last glance at him through the mirror. 

He nodded as he pulled his shirt back over his head, the faintest of smiles still lingering on his lips. 

You smiled back and closed up the kit, getting up to put it away,  “How does another quiet evening in sound?” You asked, “I have a couple of movies we can watch to pass the time and then, if you’re up to it, maybe you can help me with dinner…?”

He nodded, his faint yet pleasant expression still having yet to fade, “Please…” 

___________

General Bucky Taglist:

@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @goldylions @yeehawbrothers

WMSS taglist:

@fanfictionreaderfan

If you wanted to be added to the general or WMSS Taglist please ask/DM and let me know!

[waveobjectshow]

Uhh spoilers I guess if anyone cares about that??

I love them so much

Alts under the cut

[homestuckreplay]

Explore Remix (This Time It's Wobbly)

(page 827-835)

This is a neat segment, opening and closing with pesterlogs we’ve seen before, filling in some gaps and bookending three really important things: Dave’s monologue, Jade’s FreshJamz, and the Midnight Crew. One small thing stands out - ‘He is undoubtedly gallivanting around his house in a state of barely restrained birthday mirth.’ (p.827) is a strange perspective on John, and sounds more like Jade herself. She doesn’t recognize him in the Midnight Crew comic (p.831) either, so she doesn’t know what he looks like and also doesn’t really see below the surface of his personality.

Dave’s monologue. Dave messages Jade at 23:14 Jade time which is 05:14 Dave time which means this guy does NOT have a good sleep schedule. In his living situation it’s not surprising if he struggles to sleep due to always having one eye open for the next trap. Dave clearly leans on his friends a lot, and they have subtly different roles – John is who he messages about an unexpected juice windfall, Rose is the person he pesters ‘like clockwork’ (p.415) because he can be honest with her about his feelings, and when he can’t sleep, he wants to talk to Jade.

Jade also helps Dave with the self-exploration he’s otherwise not comfortable with. He’s clearly joking when he’s creating his kangaroo rat fursona Akwete Purrmusk, but he’s still creating them. Jade has a FurAffinity account (p.834) and she’s gotta get Dave on there too so that he can start making ‘ironic’ furry art so many layers deep that it becomes sincere.

Dave – and more importantly Andrew Hussie – should not be using a homophobic slur on page 829, as it’s not in the context of reclaiming it. However. As a person who does sometimes reclaim that word I found it a pretty funny variant of the act 2 title [cw slurs if you click that].

FreshJamz! Jade’s music player confirms that all four kids compose music. John and Rose wrote their own themes, ‘Showtime’ and ‘Aggrieve’, both of which have been remixed by Dave. Jade composed ‘Explore’, which was featured in ‘WV: Ascend’ (I will stop talking about Jade-WV connections when they stop showing up) and now Dave has remixed this too. Dave and Jade co-wrote the top tier ‘Crystalanthemums’, and it is very cute to imagine the two of them trading this file back and forth and building on each other’s work. Jade is not a gamer, and John, Rose and Dave have spent a lot of time playing games together, so this media player establishes a shared interest between Jade and the rest of the group.

Midnight Crew. I don’t think page 831 breaks the fourth wall, more like it puts two or three additional fourth walls up, and man do they destroy the image quality. This image doesn’t correspond to an exact page or quote in ‘real’ Homestuck, but it’s based on the events of p.163-165. I think it’s VERY relevant that John is referred to as ‘GT’ here, which are the Pesterchum initials he would have had if he followed his friends’ pattern (TT, TG and GG). And this is happening five pages after we’ve seen a bunch of new chumhandles.

We currently know of [GT/EB], TT, TG, GG, CG, AG, TA, TC and CA. Using only G, T, C and A, we are missing seven possible combinations: GC, GA, AT, AC, AA, CC and CT (which is my initials so I could get assigned a chumhandle!) I think four of these could correspond to the Midnight Crew, but that still leaves eight unaccounted for characters. It may be a coincidence, but these four letters correspond to the base pairs of DNA, and ‘biologist’ and ‘geneticist’ both show up in chumhandles. I’m uncertain of what this means right now, but there is a laboratory near Rose’s house decorated with the Skaian spirograph. If that’s where the mausoleum tunnel leads, that might give us more information.

I think the Midnight Crew is objectively a worse comic than Homestuck. It’s on Act 1031 (10/31, Halloween) but the story is still establishing its titular characters and having them hit each other with sticks. No wonder Dave’s fallen off this so fast. But I also think this is going to become important, and these stories are deeply entangled – Midnight Crew is a story within Homestuck but Homestuck is a story within the Midnight Crew and it’s not impossible that the Homestuck we are reading could also be zoomed out to find another Midnight Crew. More concretely, the player submitting commands could be one of these four characters, similarly shiny and carapaced to WV, the commander we’ve seen.

The beta kids are four thirteen year olds, and the Midnight Crew are four suits of thirteen playing cards – so they’re like a counterpart group, the after dark, morally questionable version. Time is complex in this story but it would be fun if any time it hits midnight for a Homestuck character, the story switches over to the Midnight Crew before the sun comes up, as is suggested by the sun/moon clock at the start of page 833 – something like the Flatland MSPA[LINK].

MSPA, where Midnight Crew and Homestuck are hosted, is also the only piece of media all four kids are into – John, Dave and Jade have all looked at Midnight Crew (p.112, 327, 833), while John and Rose both have Problem Sleuth art (p.11, 224). The Problem Sleuth characters also show up briefly in Act 1031, indicating that it was the previous MSPA in this universe as well as ours. So my new theory is that John, Rose, Dave and Jade all met on the MSPA forums prior to or at the start of Problem Sleuth, giving them over a year before the story starts to form close friendships to the extent of exchanging addresses and birthday gifts. Given that the forums are where commands are submitted in our world, it would be a cool addition to the many meta layers.

> Jade: Navigate to MSPA Forums and submit a command for the Midnight Crew.

[daydreamerdrew]

Marvel Comics Presents (1988) #82

[tonariofjananda]

For the ask game: Tonari - 5, 7, and 12!

Heya Ray! Ok here goes

5) What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Honestly I’ve got a handful, most for maybe a line or two of association, but the first one that came to mind when reading this question that’s completely hers in my head was “The Moon Will Sing” by the Crane Wives. I love imagining the song as her reflecting on her dad, friends, Hayase, and Fushi, and how they’ve all contributed to the way she feels about herself and her legacy. Fun fact, the association came about from my mishearing of a line as “I shine only with the life you gave me,” the original word being “light” instead of “life.” But the more I reflected on the song, the more I felt her presence in it (I described this to my best friend as Tonari clawing her way to the surface lol), especially in the third verse. That one in particular draws a really vivid image to me of what Tonari’s headspace must have been right after Fushi pulled her away from the flames. I imagine she’s remorseful that she couldn’t give her friends a better life and is rallying to find her courage to kill them before Fushi steps in. “Instead you hoarded all that’s left of me” is a complicated little line too, filled with the bitterness and confusion at Fushi of keeping her from death. There’s not much left of her with the death of her friends, what Fushi did was selfish, but also implies Tonari didn’t realize Fushi cared if she lived or died. Then he takes the sword from her hands, “swallowing your doubt,” and she’s… grateful, angry, upset… but most of all, she acknowledges the mutual hesitance between herself and Fushi, even though they both know this is the only course of action. Even though it makes her feel like he’s taking the sword through her own body. He might as well be. The line “I want to feel the fire that you kept from me” is the most straightforward in my opinion, and what really solidified this song as being hers for me. It’s a little funny what I’ve done here tbh. The song probably meant the line as “i want to become the person you stopped me from being, I want to regain the life that was supposed to be mine,” but for this Tonari interpretation, I’ve given it the opposite implication… cough

Anyway, the chorus also kind of ties in with another song I somewhat associate with her, “Your Best American Girl” by Mitski, for the lines “Well I’m not the moon/I’m not even a star,” but I’ll spare you the analysis for that and “Goodbye My Danish Sweetheart” (also by Mitski) til… later 👀❗️

For now, I’ll leave you with the three following, lighter songs: Laufey called “Best Friend,” which I listen to as something directed towards the immortal army as a whole; “Wings,” by So!YoON! and Phum Viphruit as a song between her and Ligard and Fushi woah who said that; and “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri bc immortalism and the heartbreak of waiting to reunite with someone. Also please imagine the second verse as being from Fushi’s perspective on getting not just her but all of their friends back at the end of the past era arc with potentially rough implications for their thought process in the modern arc WHO SAID THAT

7) What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

(Lyn asked me this too so I’ll cover it here for the two of ya!)

Tbh… I just like it when anyone talks about her ówò Tonari tends to get overlooked- even tho I’d argue she’s something of a deuteragonist- so I really just love whenever people acknowledge her importance to the story and show some enthusiasm for her plotlines. In terms of stories and fan art, it’s always awesome to see all the different sides of her shine through! Tonari’s badass, bitchy, and a little judgmental, but she’s also fashionable, studious, and warm, especially toward March and Eko. It’s also nice to see the occasional silliness she used to show on Jananda shine through every now and then. She’s changed a lot by the next arc, for obvious reasons, but she was pretty silly to Hisame when she was inviting herself to dinner, I don’t think all that playfulness should just disappear! So it’s nice to see fans playing with Tonari without vilifying her ;w; Also without reducing her to her feelings for Fushi, because yeah she has some but that’s not the only thing she’s about (even tho…. I fixate a lot… on that particular subject……… cough). While I’m on the subject, I really love that most ToFu art is limited to things like gentle physical affection. A head on a shoulder (I spent hours running around my house when you sent me that pic Ray, HOURS), a meaningful hug, and touching hands- an absolute must if you like em. I’m definitely getting carried away now though…

12) What's a headcanon you have for this character?

(Limit yourself, limit yourself, limit yourself…!!!)

(Also Coop if you’re reading this, the green one is the only safe one lol)

Bisexual Tonari is an obvious one, I’m convinced she was attracted to Parona’s form (who isn’t in this show tho lmao), and I find those ship posts between Tonari and Mizuha to be so fun tbh. Enemies to lovers maybe, invited to hold hands with her and Hanna! That theory you had about Nagisa having a crush on Tonari lives in my head rent free too, absolutely canon to me. Actually the MizuNariHanna stuff would be extra funny in a world where Nagisa has a crush on Tonari bc now Mizuha’s a girl stealer too! Nagisa just can’t win!!!

Tonari loves writing! And she’s a woman in STEM! Not a headcanon just fact but it lays down the groundwork for my following headcanon: she probably went away to grad school or something. Bon asked if Tonari knew how to do surgery, implying to my insane head that she’s probably gone away for school or something, maybe even received a doctorate, but Bon doesn’t know what for. Her stitches look a bit spaced out and wonky tbh, so she probably doesn’t have the patience for things like needlepoint. I’d wager her calling probably isn’t physical art either haha.

She absolutely goes drinking with the immortal trio + Bon and maybe Gugu once she’s old enough to do so (… would Hairo drink? Designated driver Hairo Rich, but also it’d be so funny if he’s completely normal in the stupidest way while drunk. “Stands like perfectly normal but topples over the second he goes to take a step” typa drunk- BUT THIS ISNT ABOUT HIM SORRY). I think they’d love having Tonari around to pal around with! I imagine that old Jananda arc silliness comes out full force then, if her excitement at Mizuha’s birthday was anything to go off ✌️

(This one’s safe Coop!) Her hair’s been short and choppy since before she got to Jananda so I like to think she did that little kid thing where she tried cutting her own hair and it came out looking uneven. Instead of letting her parents fix it though, she just insisted it wasn’t a mistake and wore it out like that for years. Then when she got to Jananda all the scissors sucked so she just had to keep cutting her hair in the same shabby way. Mia and Oopa having long hair is so funny to me too cuz I imagine they wouldn’t let Tonari get anywhere near them with scissors in her hand (OK stop reading here Coop!)

While I’m here, i think Tonari probably sees a little bit of her old friends in the immortal army tbh. Like, @/alphaofdarkness made the connection that March probably reminded Tonari of Oopa ;; So I feel like Gugu could remind Tonari of Uroy in some ways too, like in the buff, blond, older brother figure kind of way. Eko could remind her of young Sandel in the same way both were kind of upbeat and cute, but quiet in a way that they faded a little in the group (my brother INSISTED Sandel had NOT been there the entire time we were watching the Jananda arc). Meanwhile Messar might remind her of the older Sandel, the kind who probably was more like a brotherly shithead to her after all their years of growing up together. And Mia… imma be honest Mia’s weird as hell, chair fighting, curly hair collecting? Ain’t nobody doing it like Mia 🫡 ACTUALLY ITS BON, BON TOTALLY REMINDS HER OF MIA LMAO

OK IM ENDING IT THERE (Believe it or not this is me limiting myself, I’d typed out an entire section on Tonari’s relationship with each of the members of the immortal army). Hope these were decent enough responses to your questions Ray!

If you- or anyone- has anymore questions on Tonari or literally anyone else please feel free to send them! I have thoughts on like literally everyone, no character too obscure ✌️

[beauzos]

Went to Bright Nights at Four Mile Park in Denver with my dad last Friday :) it was a lot of fun!

[autopsytableromance]

One funny thing to me is that sometimes my bestie will send me reels like this one

And I have to be like. Bestie I appreciate that you’re on my “side” ig but 1 I’m just having fun and 2 in no way did he treat me like his bf and our FIRST text conversation he was like “hey I don’t want you to get the wrong idea bc I don’t want a relationship”

[roseofcards90]

There’s a sort of loneliness that comes with Halloween now and it’s the reason why I don’t love the holiday as much as I used to before 😔