#also Vanessa needs a hug doesn’t have enough fics

[shiningstarr15]

I love how “Gregory has PTSD” is an official tag on ao3, but “Vanessa has PTSD” is not…

[flutteringfable]

more soft fluffy venti thoughts bc hes rotting my brain as always <3

sliding around on the kitchen tile in your socks with venti (maybe “accidentally” crashing against the counter with venti on top of you. he planned this)

couch cuddles!! the desc for the couch item is that it’s really squishy, so it would be comfy enough for naps and snuggles. in the colder months, you and venti bundle up in as many blankets as you can find, and usually you fall asleep in front of the fireplace.

coming home early from a long morning of commissions to find venti snuggled up in your bed.

playing rhythm games with modern venti! i think he would be so good at ddr, dance rush, and beat saber; he likes dancing a lot, so having a wide range of movement with these games is right up his alley.

building a blanket fort with venti! expect the main living room area of your teapot or house to be completely rearranged so the fort can be as big as possible. it doesn’t even really matter in the end, because venti’s gonna snuggle you once it’s done. though, i also like the idea of making jewelry with him, or playing tcg together!

venti staying up with you if you can’t sleep. he makes you some tea or hot chocolate, even if it won’t help, and he’s happy to perform for you or tell you stories all night. he doesn’t need to sleep, since he’s a god, so he’s happy to stay up and comfort you.

dancing with venti! i love the idea of a big party in the area around the barbatos statue during weinlesefest or windblume, and dancing with venti among the crowd. he totally shows off, sweeping you up to spin you around and dipping you, but he also likes to bring you close and cradle your head against his shoulder. he’ll press little kisses to your head, and he whispers small praises to you. dancing around the house quietly is just as appealing, of course.

as much as venti loves holding you, he also loves to be held! don’t worry if you aren’t strong enough; he can use the wind to make himself lighter if you need! he prefers to be held so that his head can rest against your heart. he loves the sound of your heartbeat.

trying as hard as you can to be affectionate with venti despite the summer heat. he wants to cuddle you and hug you so badly, but it’s just way too warm. kisses are all you can manage, with hand holding being sparse.

napping under vanessa’s tree with venti. he has his cape draped over both of you, and you’re snuggled up on the soft grass.

baking with venti! i think he would have quite the sweet tooth, and he loves cakes and cookies. his favorite dessert to bake with you is apple pie (of course)

taking care of a sick venti. kind of taking inspo from a oneshot i rbed a while back! but anyway, once his gnosis is taken, he gets sick more often. bring him some warm (non alcoholic) apple cider, maybe make him a nice soup. he’s super clingy, so make sure to give him lots of nice cuddles and kisses. (you can find the fic here! go show the op some love!!!!)

[7soulstars]

Emerging of Kalon

Request: I need some new johnny depp fics in my life where I want a reader with insecurities and johnny reassuring her that he loves her the way she is.Maybe she is a bit more chubby than his past gfs and she has to wears glasses.Abd thanx so much for accepting it.

Yooo this imagine is soo important to me. As a person who had a lot of insecurities and has suffered through depression.It is really important for me to spread a certain message to others like me. I have this belief that you aren’t born with insecurities,you are made to have them.Don’t point out things to people that would make them uncomfortable in the long term guys it becomes quite scarring for them and it also makes you a damn bully. Also it is normal to have stretch marks, tummy rolls ,acne, scars ,body hair and all that stuff, Man or Woman or any other gender you identify as.That’s what makes you human.If people can’t accept you for who you are please cut them out of your life.Ya’ll beautiful and I love ya’ll. Hope you like this !!

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Pairing : Johnny Depp x Reader

Warnings : TW,Nosy people who like putting others down for fun, Signs of depression,Suicide attempt,Angst,Swearing, Fluff, Johnny being the absolute sweetheart he is.

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Kalon ;Latin for ideal beauty in all, physical ,spiritual and moral forms

1.Instigation.

“I still can’t believe THE Johnny Depp went for you after his past ones”,said someone snapping her out of her trance.”Pardon ?”,she asked as if to confirm whether she heard him right . “I mean look at you....His exes were all supermodels weren’t they? Not a single flaw..”,the man guffawed.”Well you have have a micropenis why did your wife choose you?”,her bestfriend snapped crudely making her cringe.”Let’s go Y/N “, Y/BF/N said dragging she out of the restaurant .Well this wasn’t how I wanted college reunion to end up like,thanks Nathan she thought. “Are you alright Y/N ?”, Y/BF/N asked. “Of course”. No I’m not. “It doesn’t bother me at all.” It bothers me too much. “Nathan’s a dick .Don’t let it get to your head EVER”. But he’s right, his words are already in my head. “Yeah...”

2.The disquieting

“Hey glasses ! Looking ugly as always.”

“Look at her hogging like a pig, hey fatty you want more?”

“Darling why don’t you try going on a diet.”

“Don’t watch telly, you’re blind enough already”

“Jason what do you think of Y/N ?” “Damn man she was not even my type”

“Please Stop !”, Y/N woke up with a jerk, breathing in short gasps .”Johnny-”,she stops cutting herself off as she looked at the empty looked at the empty side on her bed. He isn’t in the country she remembered . Silence. She stared at the framed picture of them together on the wall. Plip. A tear fell. Plip Plip. Two more,before she couldn’t control it any more. The past wouldn’t change.She knew it would haunt her forever. But they had stopped for a while. But since Nathan ,it came back harder than ever. She didn’t tell Johnny, she’d never tell him , the last thing she wanted to do is to become a larger burden. So she cried herself to sleep every single day.

3.Repressing

Y/BF/N frowned as she looked at Y/N’s lunch. “Since when do you eat salads ?Hell,that isn’t even salad it’s just *ugh* lettuce....”,she says looking at the leafy stuff with absolute disgust. Y/N looked at her as if she did not understand what she was saying “I love salads,you know what? I’m not that hungry.....better get back to work! See you later!”,she said leaving as she didn’t even let the other speak. Starving, Hurting, Looking into the mirror and hating herself. The cycle continued.This was going to be dangerous in the days to come and she knew that too. 

4.Avoiding

6 missed calls from Mom

19 missed calls and 87 messages from Y/BF/N

40 missed calls and 150 messages from Johnny 

3 notifications from Twitter. 

No one had seen her in 4 days .The telly changed channels at Johnny’s apartment .Things scattered around as a trembling hand set down the remote . Fat tears dampened the pillow as her eyes read the news headline. ‘Johnny Depp at a dinner date with ex wife Vanessa ? Is he finally done with his simple girlfriend ?’

5. Falling

This was it.She ended up the way she predicted she’d end up 10 years ago. Weak,Tired,Empty and Lonely. She stared at the bathtub as it filled itself until it was overfilled,water spilling out of its sides as it splashed onto her feet. She didn’t flinch at the coldness.She stayed robotically still, looking down at her palm. A blade. Without hesitating she got into the tub,the tap still running. She didn’t think anymore,tears wouldn’t fall even if they wanted to. She closed her eyes as she let her self go ,ignoring the frantic ringing of her phone and the banging on the apartment door.

6. Alerting

To say Johnny was concerned was an underestimation.Y/N wasn’t picking up his phone since several days .He was distracted, couldn’t concentrate and worry filled his entire existence.He didn’t know what to do,even going as far as asking his ex wife for advice.He decided to go back ,back to his girlfriend’s loving arms.

The moment he stepped back into the city he took his time.Picking out her favourie flowers ,the chocolate she always loved and a little something of importance. He ignored the notifications is phone was chiming with, his mind only full of thoughts of her....The thoughts were short lived , disturbed much to Johnny’s dismay by Y/BF/N’s call. He ignored once,ignored twice but after that he knew something was wrong.”Johnny !”, panicked voice spoke through the phone. A frown replacing the man’s smile “Did Y/N text you that absurd note too?” “No,wait Y/BF/N let me check”,he put the call on hold as his eyes skimmed over the words displayed on his screen. His phone now dropped on the car floor he wished all of it was a dream.They stopped as he stormed out, back to his apartment. He knocked wildly on the door but not a voice came nor a cackle. He threw his body on the door several times ,”Goddamitt Y/N OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR DON’T PLAY WITH ME RIGHT NOW !”.In his panicked feat he had forgotten he had the keys until they dropped out of his jacket pocket.He didn’t wait a moment as he fumbled it into the key hole ,kicking the door open as soon as it opened.

Silence. 

Splosh . The sound of water hitting the ground from the bathroom echoed in the whole house.

“Y/N ?”, Johnny softly whispered as he pushed open the bathroom door. A horrific scene unfolded before him.

7.Mourning

It had been two days and Johnny wouldn’t budge.He saw red that day and the site still wouldn’t leave his thoughts alone.He would neither eat,nor sleep as he sat beside his beloved girlfriend who lay on a hospital bed. Dark Enough by Amanda played on the radio. The text message, and the talk with Y/BF/N replayed in his head as if war replayed in a retired soldiers dreams. “I didn’t know you were hurting that bad”,he whispered, tears threatening to fall again. He place his head on her stomach as he let the silent tears fall,until her hand fell on top of his head.

8.Resuscitation  

Johnny jerked up ,his eyes as wide as saucers, as he froze with eyes full of pain and hurt.Y/N did not dare meet his gaze.She felt ashamed and disgusted. But those feelings were immediately replaced with shock as Johnny almost lunged at her,hugging her tight. “I was so scared I was so fucking scared when I saw that text and then you drowning in the red water filled in the bathtub ! I thought you’d left me ! I thought you died you weren’t breathing...How dare you think of yourself that way how dare you think you were not good enough !? You were the best fucking thing that happened to me since my kids goddammit !”. Y/N had never seen Johnny this mad.Hell, she had never even seen him cry. She didn’t know how to answer him, she was too ashamed.He wouldn’t break the hug, as if he would loose her if he did. He loved her too much. “Why ?”,he asked again,as if he was begging for an answer. Even a word. He just wanted to hear her voice. “I was scared...”,her voice cracked coming out much broken than she predicted. “ I didn’t think I deserved you, I thought I’d never reach the levels of those beautiful actresses and models.I was scared to tell you about my past..I was scared to bother you...”. Johnny’s heart broke. He never thought his Y/N would think that way. She was always smiling .Not even a little frown on her face. Always there for everyone. Yet no one comforted her. How could he never see it? Of course he couldn’t see it she was perfect to him.His Y/N was the most perfect person in the world. “I love you”, he blurted. He never said that.He was too shy. But he hugged her tighter ,” I love you so much. Even with scars,insecurities or that ugly face you make when you see things you do not like. You were, have and always will be the most perfect to me. Please....don’t do that again...”

9.Emergence

Y/N was discharged from the hospital in a few days. Johnny wouln’t leave her side. All his attention would be on her to see if ate well, and loved herself. Y/N felt safe. And she wasn’t wrong . Johnny was everything she deserved.

They sat on the rooftop of a cafe in Paris. A calm silence passing over them. “Y/N ?” ,Johnny asked. “Hmm?”,she hummed along, silence entailing after. ”Marry me ?”,he asked. That was the day Y/N was the most happiest, and did the beautifully emerged Kalon say yes? you’d ask. She said it without a second to spare. After all our Kalon had found her wings.

“No one is born ugly, we’re just born in a judgemental society”~ Kim Namjoon(BTS)

----The End----

Whew ! After all the procrastination and time I took brainstorming this baby is done! This was requested by the wonderful @anycsirp​ I really really hope you liked this ! Also I meant what I said before the start of this oneshot . YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. PERIODT. Please do like and comment your opinions! I really hope to read em ! I’m not that great of a writer but I did my best ! 

~Love, Hri

[babybatscreationsv2]

A King on a Leash ch2

Marvel | Starker

Tony Stark is a powerful man with a beautiful husband and a loyal crime family, but it looks like he didn't keep his husband on a short enough leash. After turning Peter lose on a Cuban gang leader, Peter's life is in danger. The real trouble is that Tony now realizes that Peter is the only thing in this world that he cares about and he never meant for that to happen.

Rating: Explicit

Full Fic

A Doll on a String

Warnings under the cut*

warnings: mafia au, murder mention, daddy kink

The low sun cast an orange glow over Peter's angel face. He was just starting to tan and no less beautiful for it. He was beautiful and pale in the winter, sun-kissed and stunning in summer. The diamonds he had worn when Tony came to get him had been beautiful, but they weren't Tony's diamonds and so they lay now at the bottom of the Atlantic. So did Suarez's yacht. Tony was confident that if the gangster had known Peter's name, he would never have laid hands on him. Yet, he wished Peter had left the man alive so he could peel the skin from his hands. The sight of him with his eye burned out and half of his head missing was almost enough to soothe the possessive itch. Almost.

Tony took off his jacket and laid it over Peter's near bare body. It calmed the fire for now. He would buy him something later, some clothes or jewelry. At least he was covered in hickies, Tony's mark left on his skin. Tony saw them starting to purple across his neck. The sight of them had Tony's body forgetting its age. He shifted in his seat, letting his legs spread as his cock filled out. He should fuck him while he sleeps. Peter would love it. But no, he did have business to handle. The diamonds Suarez had stolen weren't just from any bank, but a bank that stored the belongings of one Wilson Fisk. The diamonds had belonged to his late wife Vanessa.

Vanessa Fisk was probably the only person that her husband ever loved and he loved her dangerously, desperately. Much in the way that Tony loved Peter. It was something that they had come to understand about each other.

It hadn't been easy to convince the families not to punish Peter for killing Octavius. In the end, they understood that Otto had kidnapped Tony and that Peter was only doing his duty as a Stark and as a husband. Not that they were married at the time. He had wanted to lie. To convince them that he was the one who killed Octavius, but he knew that sooner or later the truth would come out and it would only mean greater trouble.

He watched Peter sleep, laid out across the seat. He was genuinely and undeniably the most beautiful person he had ever seen. How lucky he was to have his love, his loyalty, his respect. He would do anything for him.

If he had to burn down the entire city to keep Peter safe, he would. Hell, he would burn down the whole city if Peter asked him nice enough.

It was absolutely terrifying, but he would burn it all, sacrifice any and all of his men all for Peter. Not because he was beautiful, but because he was loyal to the death and he meant it genuinely. He didn't follow Tony out of fear or because of a debt. His love and loyalty were pure and unshakable.

Peter had been offered money, fame, fancy condos. He laughed at it all. What he wanted was Tony. Sure, Peter enjoyed the power, he enjoyed the money. Tony did doubt sometimes that Peter would love him without those things, but for now, the only money or power he wanted was Tony's and that was enough to keep him.

Tony smiled to himself. He remembered before, back when Peter was just a pretty doll on stage, never knowing who was funding his performances, who was sending him such nice gifts. He remembered what a fool he was to think that Peter was someone who should be bought and tricked. Like a stay cat being led to a trap with a can of tuna. He felt cold when he imagined how it could have been. How he could have led Peter to despise him and their relationship by turning it into an obligation. Peter never had a choice in being his, but Tony's choice to show Peter respect made all the difference. Sometimes he pondered what Peter had said when he proposed.

 I think you would do anything for me. Even if it meant letting me go.

To this day, Tony wasn't certain if he was right. In his bones he felt sure that he would go to any lengths to keep Peter by his side. Anything at all short of killing him was on the table. At least, Tony believed that Peter would never try to leave him and so he tried not to think about something so painful. At the end of the day, he understood that Peter meant it symbolically. What he meant to say was that he wanted to be Tony's husband. That he didn't feel coerced or obligated. He was smart. He knew what Tony needed to hear. Even if it was a lie. Even if Tony thought that he might just kill them both if Peter tried to walk away.

In a few days, Tony would leave Peter behind at their beach front home to meet with the other family bosses. He needed to make sure there was enough security at the house. No one was allowed in or out when Tony went to a family meeting. Not even Peter. Sometimes he pouted about it, but Peter was undeniably excited by Tony's possessive nature, keeping him locked away like a precious princess in a story. This time though, Tony would be gone a whole weekend. No risks would be taken, no pouting indulged. The time they would be apart would have Tony too on edge. Maybe moving in together was a mistake. It only led him to cling harder to Peter's side.

He sent a text to the man in charge of Peter's security, just to make sure everything was in place. They had spent days vetting candidates to join Peter's security team. They had to be both loyal and clean. Clean in the sense of drugs, but also clean in the sense of debts. If they owed so much as a penny to anyone other than Tony Stark himself, they were off the table. No one with outside loyalties or motivations would be allowed near his little devil. That was what he should call him, the bloodthirsty little thing.

He had another performance coming up soon. Tony had talked to the director of the performance hall and had the opening night moved back a week. The original opening had been the same weekend he was to meet with the families. Everything and everyone was in place. Now he just had to survive leaving his heart behind for two days.

He watched him sleep, his heart. He watched him as the boat sailed along through the water. Peter didn't stir until the boat was docked. Just in case they had been seen, they were borrowing a dock several miles from home. A car waited by the road to pick them up.

Tony stood, casting a shadow over Peter's face. He smiled, opening his eyes in the dimmed light.

"Hello, sailor," he teased.

Tony bent and scooped him up. "Little siren."

Peter laughed. "I suppose I lured at least one man to his death."

Tony hugged him to his chest. He was so light, so thin and delicate. His arms wrapped around his neck. "And did it occur to you at any point, that you might have left Suarez or his men alive?"

Peter blinked. It was endearing, watching the young man realize what he had done. He hadn't thought for a second that he might simply leave them drugged and stranded, tied up. He could have asked Tony for something to slip into their drinks. He could have got Suarez alone and knocked him out. He could have played the game with his charm and some clever words. Instead, Tony had found two bodies floating down the current as they made for his coordinates. Another had been hanged from the side of the ship. No one could say Peter wasn't an effective and terrifying killer. Tony loved it. Because he knew that Peter wasn't cold, wasn't without empathy. The truth was that Tony said 'Get me those diamonds' and Peter's mind became focused on his task and he completed it by whatever means felt easiest, fastest.

If Tony said jump, Peter wouldn't ask how high. He would jump, immediately and without question. Whatever happened next, it would bring him joy to know that he done what Tony had asked. He wasn't the type to waste time.

"Should I have? Left Suarez alive I mean..." He was blushing, shame creeping into his voice.

Tony carried him from the boat, still held snug in his arms. "No, my angel. You did exactly what I wanted you to do. Alive or dead, it doesn't matter to me. If it did, then I would have been more specific."

"Really?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Daddy doesn't lie to you."

Peter smiled. Then he said one of those things... the things were dark and forbidden and made Tony's blood rush south.

"I set him up to die." He whispered in Tony's ear. "I let him think he could have me and when he thought he was going to get what he wanted, I burned his eye out and shot him in the face. Because I know who I belong to."

Tony's jaw clenched. His grip on Peter's body went tight. He stepped off the dock and set Peter on his feet, slamming his back into the wall of the boat house. Peter's eyes glinted with fear or excitement, he wasn't sure. He wasn't thinking either. He just crushed their mouths together, pressing Peter back until he whimpered in pain. His hands grabbed his hips and pulled him up, moaning when their groins pressed together. They could spend a good long time against this boat house, but Tony wouldn't push the graciousness of its owners further. Still he kissed his boy breathless before leading him along up the hill.

Peter pressed into his side, walking like he was drunk. Tony wrapped an around him, made sure his jacket was snug around his shoulders.

The door was opened for them as they reached the car. A guard slid in first then Tony. He helped Peter in and tucked him into his side. Peter gave him a quick kiss before he settled in against him. Tony smiled to himself as the car carried them away.

[cpd5021]

Sticks and Stones

Happy Wednesday! Back with another one shot! This fic was based off a prompt sent in by revolutionary25 on FF.net . One week closer to them hopefully being back on our screens! Woohoo!

It happens in a blink. One second, I'm standing in the middle of Med, waiting for our suspect to be stitched up so we can interview him and then the next second I'm locking eyes with a woman I hadn't seen in years. At first glance, she might have been unrecognizable behind the swollen eyelids and bloodied and bruised face, but this wasn't a new sight to me. This was my mother. The second our eyes met, I felt the air leave my lungs and try as I might, I couldn't force any back in. My chest was tight and the room began to spin around me. Adam reached me first, quickly gripping my upper arms and spinning me around to leave the area we were all huddled in while at the same time, brushing Kim and Vanessa's worried faces away. I couldn't speak, hell, I still couldn't breathe...I felt like I was going to pass out or throw up and the panic in my chest was overwhelming. Adam pushed me into a small corridor that was thankfully empty, pressing me up against the wall and maintaining his firm grip on my arms to keep me upright.

"What the hell is going on?"

His voice was full of worry as he dipped his head down to meet my eyes. I tried to swallow but the movement got stuck in my throat and I let out an unusual noise, a mix between a whimper and a gag. I shook my head, unable to speak, and only managed to make him look more concerned.

"Hailey...come on, talk to me. You look like you just saw a ghost…"

He trailed off, attempting to meet my eyes once again. I nodded slowly, that was probably the best way to describe what had just happened. I had cut off all ties with my family years ago, after going through the pain of watching my mother continue to take her abuse with a smile. I simply couldn't take it anymore so one day I was just done. Seeing her, beaten beyond recognition, laying in that hospital bed, had sent me right back to my childhood. In an instant, I wasn't a detective, but instead the scared little girl I once was, hiding in her bedroom with a pillow shoved over her head, praying the screaming would stop. My chest burned at the thought, or maybe it was from lack of oxygen as I still hadn't managed to take a proper breath. The room around me swayed and I felt Adam's grip tighten. I must have looked as bad as I felt because suddenly he was pushing me down to sit on the floor, guiding me to lean back against the wall. I hung my head, letting it rest against my knees, and wrapped my arms around my bent legs. My sweaty hands clasped in front of me, holding myself in a ball on the floor. Adam kept one hand on my shoulder and I could tell he was talking to me but I couldn't understand what he was saying. Suddenly, another hand was on my other shoulder. This one felt different, softer and warmer as it rubbed my upper back. More mumbled words exchanged above me and then Adam's hand was gone. I risked a glance up to see who the other hand belonged too and was met with Jay's worried eyes boring into mine. He gave me a small smile, only half of his mouth rising ever so slightly and it never reached his eyes. I felt the vice grip around my chest loosen just a little and was finally able to take a deep breath. The minute the air swirled into my chest, something inside of me broke and I felt my eyes begin to burn with tears. I ducked my head back down, hoping Jay hadn't noticed my sudden rush of emotion and blinked furiously to stop their flow. It was no use. I kept my head pressed against my knees as the tears ran down my face, wetting the denim below me. Jay's hand remained on my upper back, rubbing slow and gentle circles between my shoulder blades. I was thankful that I hadn't lost it in front of Adam, but was also embarrassed that I had once again let my walls crumble in front of Jay. He had seen me turn into a mess more times than I'd care to admit and I was starting to get a complex. He didn't say anything, not any of the times before, or now. Usually, he remained silent while I worked to pull myself back together and then I'd eventually manage to joke it off or change the subject. Something told me this time would be different. I'm not sure how long we sat like that before I was finally able to lift my head up and risk a glance his way. His eyes still held their worried look but he seemed a little relieved that I was seemingly coming back around. I wanted to say something, explain what had just happened, but that would open up a whole box I wasn't sure I was ready to unpack. Part of me hoped that I could just sneak out of here with my team, and my mother, being none the wiser. Of course, that wouldn't be the case thought.

"Upton. That was the name on the ER board."

Jay said in almost a whisper. I swallowed hard and fought back more tears at the mention of her name, of my name.

"Yeah…"

I breathed out, my voice still shaky from the emotions battling inside of me. I looked over to him and was met with a waiting stare. I knew he wouldn't push me but I also felt like I should at least clue him in a little bit.

"My mother."

I pursed my lips together as I looked at him again, recognition clicking on his face. I'm sure he had seen the way she looked too and would have been able to piece two and two together with the minor details he knew of my childhood.

"Hailey…"

He trailed off, seemingly unsure of what to say. Quite frankly, I wasn't sure either. I didn't know how to proceed with any of this. My conversation with Jay, that fact that she was here and appeared to have received yet another harsh beating… any of it. I rubbed at my face, wiping away the wetness on my cheeks and forced myself to take a few breaths in an attempt to compose myself.

"I haven't seen her in years…"

I whispered, more to myself than anything. Jay nodded beside me, waiting for me to continue.

"I don't know what to do. Do I pretend I didn't see her there and hope she doesn't contact me? Or do I go check on her? She's my mother…"

I trailed off as more tears gathered in my eyes. I wiped them away with the sleeve of my shirt and tried to keep myself together.

"Well...did she see you?"

Jay started, trying to help me through this. I nodded and flashed back to the look in her eyes when she met mine. Jay nodded beside me again, taking in the new information.

"What do you want to do?"

His question was gentle as he carefully pushed me into making a decision. Truthfully, I wanted to go talk to her. Make sure she is okay. Sure, I had seen her take multiple beatings, some making her look way worse than she did now, but this time felt different. Despite her years of abuse, my mother never typically sought medical attention afterwards and it had me worried that something major was wrong. Jay, seemingly reading my mind, gently bumped his shoulder into mine before he spoke.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

I smiled softly at his offer. Of course he would be willing to walk blindly into my family drama, just to be there as support for me. But I was sure that his presence would only bring with it a slew of questions I couldn't answer. I slowly shook my head, sending him another smile. I took a deep breath and finally climbed back up off the floor with Jay right beside me. He steadied me when I swayed upon standing but quickly let his hand drop, looking almost embarrassed with the contact. He sent me a sheepish smirk and I couldn't help but send him another genuine smile. We turned and walked back down the short hallway Adam had pushed me down and then we were back in the open area with the rest of Intelligence. They all stood around the nurses station, still waiting for our suspect. Most of them had their backs turned to me but I could see Adam's eyes trailing after me as I made my way over to the curtain that was now pulled shut. I paused at the entryway, my heart rate increasing with each passing second, before I slowly brought my hand up to knock on the frame.

"Come in."

Came a voice that made my heart break just a little more. She sounded so vulnerable that it made my temper threaten to flare. I pulled back the curtain and ducked inside before I could chicken out. The second I saw her up close, the tears instantly returned to my eyes and I hurried to blink them away.

"Oh Hailey.."

She said my name, her own voice full of emotion as she held her arms up, inviting me into an embrace. I closed the distance between us, carefully choosing to ignore the bruises all over her arms and let her pull me into a hug. She smelled like a mix of dried blood and alcohol. I pulled back to look at her face and she tried to give me a smile that was beyond twisted under her swollen face. Her hand gripped one of mine, preventing me from stepping back any further and I shifted my gaze away from her, searching the room for anything else to focus on.

"Do I need to ask what happened? Or do I already know?"

I didn't mean my words to come out so harsh, but seeing her here and knowing what, or rather who, had put her here made my temper flare once again.

"Hailey bug, it's not what you think...it was just a little disagreement."

She tried to brush it off, even having the nerve to chuckle at the end of her statement as if this was a laughing matter. The smell of alcohol assaulted my nose again and I scrunched my face up in disgust.

"Were you drinking?"

I asked, my voice harsh once again.

"No, I don't drink Hailey. You know that."

Again, she chuckled. My face burned with the anger boiling inside of me.

"Then why do you smell like a bar?"

I accused, still avoiding her face.

"Uh, well...well you know your father likes his drinks mixed a certain way. I just didn't add quiet enough-"

I raised my hand, cutting her off before she could continue. I didn't need to hear the rest to know what had happened. My blood boiled at the thought of him throwing his drink at her, not an unusual occurrence during my childhood, but never one I understood. I couldn't wrap my head around why she would stay and take his nonsense, especially not when she had been given an out on multiple occasions.

"I have to get back to work."

I said bluntly, yanking my hand free and turning to leave the room.

"Oh Hailey, wait...please don't leave yet…"

She pleaded behind me, causing me to pause just before the curtain. I turned to face her once again, swallowing hard before speaking.

"I can't do this mom. I won't. I'm not going to stand by and watch him do this to you. I offered you help to get you out of there and that offer still stands. But I won't just play along like nothing is wrong when he keeps doing this to you and you keep taking it. If you want my help, here's how to reach me. But other than that….good bye mom."

I pulled a card out of my pocket, placing it on the bedside table next to her and then turned and walked out of the room. By the time I walked out, the rest of my team was gone. I pointed towards the lobby, pulling out my phone to see if Jay could come back to give me a ride but stopped short when I saw him sitting in the chair just inside the waiting room. He gave me a small unsure smile and stood as I approached. I let out a breath and shook my head as I nodded towards the exit, not wanting to risk another breakdown in front of anyone else. We climbed into Jay's truck and remained silent on the ride back to the 21st, him thankfully not pushing me to talk as I'm not sure I would be able to hold it together once I started. I managed to make it through the rest of my day, not oblivious to the looks both Jay and Adam kept sending my way, or the looks they were exchanging with each other. Finally, the day ended and I hurried to gather my things from my locker before slamming it shut and making to leave the room. Jay came through the door just before I reached it and he gave me a sheepish grin when I had to step back to let him in.

"Beers tonight?"

He asked, eyebrows raised with anticipation. I briefly considered it but settled on just being alone and letting myself process the day before I drug him down with me. I gave him a small smile and shook my head gently, watching his own smile falter slightly.

"Raincheck for tomorrow? I just need to process this alone…"

I explained, hoping to not hurt his feelings. He nodded and gently squeezed my shoulder as he let me pass. I made my way out of the building and into my car in a blur, the emotional rollercoaster of the day finally starting to catch up to me. I was so lost in thought on my drive home that I didn't notice the car lights behind me, following me turn for turn as I made my way home. They drew my attention too late, as I noticed them just before I pulled into the drive. The car sped past my driveway just as I pulled in. It was too dark for me to see the driver so I waited until the taillights disappeared around the corner before getting out. I made my way up my porch steps, fumbling with my keys and having lost my train of thought again. I caught sight of the shadow a second too late before strong hands gripped my shoulders and spun me around, slamming me back into my front door. The air was forced from my lungs on impact and I felt my face pale when I saw the face looming over me. My father. His face was flushed with a mix of anger and alcohol, the smell radiating off him and assaulting my nose in the light evening breeze. Before I could say anything, he pulled me forward only to shove me back against the door again, causing me to cry out in pain as my head struck the metal of the door frame.

"You little bitch! You should have stayed out of this!"

His hot breath screamed in my face, causing me to flinch. I knew I didn't stand a chance fighting off his large frame, but suddenly I didn't even have the notion to try. The way he was holding me, screaming at me, made me feel like the tiny, fragile little girl again and I felt myself shutting down. He yanked me forward again, this time his hand coming to grip my neck and causing me to drop my jacket and keys onto the ground below. He tightened his grip, lifting me slightly off my feet and I danced on my tiptoes to try and ease the choke hold he had me in. My hands clawed at his wrists but it was no use. He slammed me back against the door again, his hands releasing me and I crumbled to the ground, holding my neck and gagging as the air burned my throat. I closed my eyes, waiting for another blow, when a strangled yell escaped him. I looked up to see him being pulled backwards and tossed onto the pavement. The sound of metal cuffs clinking making me try to focus even harder on the scene before me. Jay held him down on the pavement, arms restrained behind his back with his face down in the grass. Jay's frantic eyes met mine, silently asking if I was okay. I nodded, trying to reassure him as I watched my dad flail underneath Jay. Jay gave him another shove into the pavement, only angering him more as the profanities spewed out of his mouth. I tried to stand but my body wouldn't cooperate. I heard Jay call in for a patrol car to head this way. Part of me wanted to tell him no, to just let my father go and save me the embarrassment of him being transported to my place of employment. But that would make me just like my mother and the thought made me sick. It didn't take long for the lights of the patrol car to illuminate the street. Jay pulled my dad into a sitting position but as soon as they were face to face, I watched as he spit right in Jay's face. Before I could process that, I saw Jay draw his arm back and deliver a solid blow to my dad's jaw, blood spewing from his mouth on impact. I would be lying if I tried to deny that a small smirk crept onto my face, if only for a minute, at the sight. The patrolmen reached Jay then and together they hauled my father up. I listened as the officer exchanged a few words with Jay before he hauled my dad away to the patrol car. Jay turned to face me then, hesitating for just a second before he closed the distance between us at a jog. I was still sitting on my porch, leaning against the door I had just been thrown in too, already feeling my body ache from the blows. Jay knelt in front of me, reaching a gentle hand out to my shoulder and I looked up through tear filled eyes to meet his worried look. He looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what. So instead, he helped me stand and we made our way into my condo silently. I set my things on the kitchen counter, immediately moving to the cupboard that housed my alcohol and pulled out the tequila along with two glasses. I returned to Jay, who now sat perched on the barstool by my island and poured us each a drink. I added just enough liquid to the glass to amount to a shot and instantly picked up the glass, tossing the drink back and enjoying the slow burn it left down my throat. I watched as Jay did the same before refilling our glasses, fuller this time with the intention to just sip away at it. I knew he was waiting for me to speak but I couldn't and eventually he broke the silence.

"You okay?"

It was somewhat of a loaded question and we both knew it. Today had been hell to say the least and Jay had seen firsthand more of the demons in my closet then I'd care to admit. He seemed to be taking it all in stride though and was only concerned with my well being over everything. I pondered my response, debating how much more open I wanted to be with him tonight.

"I...yeah."

I trailed off weakly, feeling my eyes start to burn with the threat of tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He asked gently, not wanting to push me. I knew I would owe him some sort of an explanation or something, but the weight of the day was catching up to me quickly. I scrunched my face up a little, sending him a half hearted smirk before pushing off the barstool and heading into my living room. If I was going to open that box again I was at the very least going to be comfortable doing so. We perched on opposite ends of the couch, me sitting with my knees bent up to my chest while Jay stretched his legs out off the couch. I sipped my drink a little more before I started talking.

"I promise, he wasn't always like that. Some days were better than others...but...some were worse."

Jay nodded, taking a sip from his own glass and waiting for me to continue.

"She usually took the brunt of it. Usually because he would be coming after one of us and she would stop him. Or try to anyway. As I got older...it just got to a point where I couldn't stand watching it anymore so I just left. I feel like I just abandoned her but she won't take the help…"

I let my head dip down as I felt the tears sting my eyes once again.

"You didn't abandon her Hailey...some people...they just won't leave…"

I let out a humorless chuckle at his words. He was right and she was the shining example of that.

"He got to me a lot too, I think because I reminded him of her so much. But not usually as bad as that."

I watched as Jay took in a deep breath, his eyes looking like he was picturing something far away. His grip on the glass tightened as he spoke.

"Not usually?"

His eyes met mine then and I saw a mix of heartbreak and anger swirling within them. I had to break away before I lost it completely.

"There were a few times that were pretty bad…"

I admitted, hanging my head once again.

"Hailey…"

He trailed off, his own voice thick with emotion.

"It's okay. I mean...it's not. But...I'm okay, now."

I stammered out my words, trying to shake off the memories. We feel into a silence, both taking the occasional drink and sharing a glance. Eventually, as I usually do after I let my walls crumble in front of him, I managed to shift the conversation to a lighter topic and we fell into an easy banter. I felt better with him here, despite everything the day had brought Jay was a constant source of comfort that I hadn't quite figured out yet. I definitely owed him for showing up even after I had told him no, although a part of me had known he wouldn't give up that easily anyway. After over an hour, and a glance at the clock noting it was almost 1AM, Jay stood from the couch and stretched. I stood up after him and we made our way to the front door. He lingered awkwardly for a moment, before turning to face me.

"Hailey, you promise you're good? If you need anything…"

He trailed off, giving me a reassuring smile. I smiled back, thankful for everything he had done for me. I nodded, not trusting my voice and then he reached his hand to pull the door open. As I watched him step out I felt my heart start to race as a panic rose in my chest. I would be alone now and the realization had my mind running wild. No sooner had he clicked the door shut was I yanking it back open and saying his name. He turned around instantly, a mix of confusion and worry on his face at my tone.

"I...it's stupid. I'm sorry..nevermind."

I tried to back peddle, quickly thinking through what I was about to ask him and feeling instantly embarrassed at the thought. He didn't buy it though and quickly stepped back up to the door.

"What is it Hailey?"

He smiled again and the sight helped my heartbeat to slow ever so slightly. I decided to throw caution to the wind and swallowed hard before speaking.

"Could you...would you maybe...stay? It's just...I don't want to be alone tonight."

I hated how pathetic I sounded right now but he didn't seem to care. He nodded and stepped back inside, shutting the door behind him. Before I could process what he was doing he closed the gap between us and pulled me into a tight hug. My first instinct was to pull away as this wasn't something we normally did. But as I felt the heat from his body seep into mine I let myself relax into him and the feeling of safety his embrace brought.

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 9 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: right. i have no words. u all deserve this chapter after last week’s anguish….so as we say in my homeland…here wi…here wi…here wi fuckin go xo

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

8th November 2020

The rain has got worse.

It’s evolved from drizzle into a full-scale downpour, but Vanessa supposes it’s covering up the tears that are streaming down her face as she walks down the streets with only the orange of the streetlamps lighting her way in the dark. Her jumper is still in the rehearsal studios and she’s soaked to the skin, her hair plastered against her scalp and feeling much the same as if she’d just jumped in the shower.

She is so confused and hurt. Brooke has been so kind to her, she’s been supportive and caring and brought her flowers, for fuck’s sake, flowers that Vanessa’s still holding in her grasp but perhaps she should let go because let’s face it, she’s got to let go. Vanessa was so so sure she hadn’t misread the signals but…maybe she was wrong about the whole thing, maybe she was wrong about Brooke’s feelings.

She feels so embarrassed.

She gets to the end of the road and sighs. Her phone is in the pocket of her sweatpants and when she brings it out it’s immediately covered in raindrops. It takes her three attempts to unlock it in the rain and before she knows it she’s scrolling to Monique’s contact and ringing her. She’s lucky that Monique lives close by, and before she picks up the phone Vanessa has already made the decision to start walking in the direction of her flat.

“Hello hello?”

Vanessa takes a shaky breath in because she’s got absolutely no idea what her voice will sound like when she speaks. “Mo, I need to come round. I wouldn’t ask and I know it’s late an’ you’re probably exhausted but I…I really need a friend right now.”

There isn’t even a single pause between what Vanessa says and Monique’s response. Her voice replies instantly, comforting and reassuring and urgent all at once. “Come straight round. You want wine or tea?”

“I don’t even know. Tea maybe,” Vanessa shrugs, supposing that a hangover would be the last thing she needs tomorrow considering she’ll also have to face Brooke again.

“Gotcha. See you in five, boo.”

Even the small chat she’s had with Monique has made her tears dissipate slightly. It helps Vanessa feel reassured as she quickly crosses the road, her feet landing in all different depths of rapidly-forming puddles. By the time she’s outside Monique’s stairwell and pressing its buzzer, she feels like a submerged sponge.

“Come right up.”

Vanessa takes the stairs two at a time and when she gets to Monique’s door her friend is already holding it open. Maybe it’s because she’s seeing a friendly, kind face or maybe it’s because she can finally let out her emotions in peace but when she gets to Monique she falls into her arms for a hug and starts to cry all over again. Monique holds her steadily, not even making any comment about the fact the pink flannel pyjamas she’s wearing are getting drenched by proxy from Vanessa’s half-drowned frame. After a few moments spent this way, Vanessa feels Monique step away and motion her into the flat.

“C’mon, girl.”

Vanessa follows Monique into her bedroom. She’s been here before, probably hundreds of times, but the fairy lights and soft, patterned cotton bed sheets and heavy, dark curtains are comforting to Vanessa, helping her feel relaxed. She’s standing in the middle of the room as Monique looks at her with a single raised eyebrow of confusion, taking in her drenched clothes and mascara train tracks that adorn her cheeks and the bouquet of flowers that she’s still holding in her right hand. Vanessa can almost see the cogs in Monique’s brain turning.

“Alright,” she begins slowly. “Plan of action…I’m gonna make us tea. While I’m doin’ that, you’re gonna take a shower an’ borrow a set of my pyjamas. Make sure you choose comfy ones, Lord knows you need ‘em. Uh, I’ll take these too, I guess? Put ‘em in water.”

Monique points at the flowers and Vanessa wordlessly gives them to her. Monique examines them with an appreciative gaze.

“Huh. Heliotrope an’…somethin’ else, I don’t know that one.”

Vanessa scrunches her face up. Monique’s just given her the first laugh she’s had in the past half hour. “Since when were you the queen of horticort…horitic…plant knowledge?”

Monique quirks her a smile. “Hey, if you get given enough bouquets after dance competitions you start to recognise a flower or two.”

Vanessa shrugs in agreement and, as Monique leaves the room, she does what she’s told. She jumps into Monique’s en suite, strips down and takes a hot shower. On top of being wet outside it had also been freezing, so the warm water and all the steam feel like a big hug both physically and mentally. Vanessa grabs one of the clean fluffy towels that sit on the small bamboo shelves Monique’s put up and wraps it around herself as she pads back through to the bedroom. She’s been friends with Monique for so long that she knows which of the old battered wooden antique drawers holds which item of clothing (top drawer underwear and socks, second drawer down is tops, third drawer down is bottoms and bottom drawer is pyjamas) so she grabs a soft cotton pair of pyjamas that’s comprised of an oversized t shirt and some long, baggy pyjama pants. She tucks herself up into a little ball on the bed and the moment she’s finally comfy Monique returns with two steaming mugs of tea and a packet of biscuits tucked into the crook of her elbow and pinned to her side.

“You turned up on my doorstep at the right time, girl, I got the good shit earlier on today,” Monique smiles as she hands Vanessa her mug and gets herself comfortable under the duvet next to her, pointing at the biscuits which seem to be more chocolate than biscuit. Monique offers them to Vanessa, and she declines before Monique shrugs and rips into the packet herself. As she bites into one, she gives Vanessa a questioning and concerned gaze. “You wanna talk about it?”

Vanessa hums as she thinks, winces a little as the memory of what has happened barges into her mind again. She is momentarily distracted by the wet tendrils of hair dripping through her pyjama top, the towel-drying only doing so much. She turns to Monique and pouts. “Can you braid my hair an’ I can vent?”

“Sure, doll.”

So Vanessa vents. Tells her everything, the whole situation. Monique listens and by the time Vanessa is done her hair is in two perfect braids.

“So you’re tellin’ me-” Monique begins, once Vanessa is finished talking. “- that you were a cryin’ mess when you went for the kiss?”

Vanessa scrunches up her face in a frown. “I guess so?”

“Well, bitch!” Monique shoves her and lets out a huge exasperated sigh. “Why else you think she pushed you away? Would you wanna smooch with someone cryin’ their damn eyes out?”

Vanessa pauses as she considers Monique’s words. She might have a point, but then again she didn’t see the look Brooke had given her. In Vanessa’s mind, the only possible explanation is that Brooke is disgusted with her, she’d read all the signals wrong, and that she’s probably phoned up a producer already and quit the show.

Okay, maybe she’s being a little dramatic.

Vanessa doesn’t answer Monique’s question. Instead she reaches for the phone she’s discarded on Monique’s bedside table, looks at her notifications.

2 missed calls: Brooke Lynn

B: Vanessa I’m so sorry

B: If you want to just forget it all happened that’s okay, just please don’t be embarrassed xxx

Vanessa reads the text over again. The wording of the second one is weird and it messes with her head. The fact that the ball’s in her court, the fact Brooke is telling her not to be embarrassed, the kisses…

No. Don’t get your hopes up, bitch.

“She text you?”

Vanessa sighs, feels her whole body deflate like a balloon. She nods, wordlessly passes Monique the phone. She watches her eyes dart over it quickly, Monique’s face smirking as she hands her the phone back.

“Oh my God, Vanjie. She’s panicking just as much as you are.”

“Panicking ‘cuz she’s partnered with some crazy bitch tryna pull moves on her when she’s a professional just there to take part in a competition,” Vanessa huffs. She feels herself pout a little as she looks down at her phone. “I really liked her, Mo.”

“Will you stop usin’ past tense? It’s not over! You gotta go in there tomorrow morning, hold your head high, be a professional an’ act like nothing’s happened.”

Vanessa suddenly has a thought. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“I choreographed a fuckin’ Argentine Tango.”

Monique lets out a howl of a laugh as Vanessa puts her head in her hands and sinks down against the pillows. If Brooke thought their Salsa was hot Vanessa doesn’t even know how she’s going to react when she reveals the dance they’re doing tomorrow.

And tomorrow rolls around quickly. Vanessa drags herself into the studios, borrows rehearsal clothes from Monique which are ever-so-slightly too small for her but are preferable to wearing the crumpled outfit she’d been wearing in the rain yesterday. Monique flanks her as she walks with her from her flat, keeping her distracted with mindless chatter and silly jokes which Vanessa pretends to laugh at. Monique doesn’t seem to mind the fake laughter though, and when they arrive at the studios she gives Vanessa a tight hug and tells her to text her to tell her how things go.

Vanessa waits. She paces the rehearsal room and thanks God that they don’t have their filming slot first that day. She barely slept the night before, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how to play the situation, and she’s concluded that if Brooke is giving her the option to pretend that Sunday never happened she’s going to take her up on that. Though she feels her already flimsy resolve breaking down as she finally sees Brooke enter the room, her face pale and her eyes puffy indicating a similar lack of sleep. Her hair hasn’t been brushed and her ponytail is what can only be described as bumpy, stray hairs sticking up from her scalp at all angles. She’s wearing a huge baggy hoodie with her exercise leggings and it’s swallowing her up, though from her expression it seems as if Brooke doesn’t mind.

For a moment there’s a sort of standoff. Vanessa waits for Brooke to speak first and it seems as if Brooke is doing the same for her. It’s Vanessa that finally speaks first, her guilt overtaking her.

“Morning,” she says simply. It’s only then that she registers the fact that Brooke is carrying a plastic bag.

“Hey. You, uh. You left your jumper and your speakers, so I brought them in today.”

“Thanks.”

Vanessa scuffs her shoe against the floor, casts her eyes to the ground. Brooke seemingly takes this as her cue to speak.

“Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?”

Vanessa cringes. She hopes she doesn’t do so visibly. She casts her eyes back up to Brooke, makes sure she’s got eye contact when she delivers her words. “Why, what happened yesterday?”

Brooke frowns, opens her mouth as if to remind her then snaps it closed again as she clearly realises what Vanessa wants to do. She gives a small smile which doesn’t meet her eyes. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Vanessa nods curtly. She takes a deep breath, because Brooke is still her dance partner and they’re still competing and they’re still going to be on TV in six days’ time, so she pulls her shoulders back and fixes her with the best smile she can manage. “Let’s warm up. Then I’ll tell you what we’re doin’ this week.”

The kiss doesn’t get brought up again. That’s good. Vanessa’s glad. There’s nothing to say, so instead of talking they rehearse. They rehearse and rehearse and rehearse and they barely talk apart from that. Vanessa saves her communication for her choreography, in touches and Ochos and the way her body moves in Brooke’s hold. Vanessa’s still marking the majority of the dance, careful not to push herself too far, but she makes sure to put extra effort in when she’s teaching Brooke the Ganchos and they hook their legs together. Vanessa is sure Brooke gets extra quiet during those sections, and her eyes go all dark and heavy. She wants to believe Brooke likes her, wants to believe maybe she did want to reciprocate their kiss on Sunday, but the last time she got her hopes up that high Brooke had pulled away so she’s wary of doing so again. Still, though, the Argentine suits Brooke. The way she takes control and leads, the power in everything she does. Vanessa’s head is already a concrete mixer of emotions and horny is one she really doesn’t want to have to add to the list, but when Brooke puts one arm around her waist, lifts her up and drags her across the rehearsal room floor while Vanessa’s thigh is hooked over her hip it’s hard not to have some sort of visceral reaction.

The tension builds over days. They’ve been entirely professional all week, not even exchanged so much as a text and it’s eating Vanessa up inside. So when it gets to late evening on Wednesday and it’s dark outside and Vanessa has peeled off her jumper and sweats and is wearing a pair of little cycling shorts and a sports bra to rehearse in, she honestly doesn’t know how it’s going to go when she suggests a full run of the dance.

“If we get it so that we’re nailing it by tonight then we got Thursday, Friday an’ Saturday morning to polish it,” Vanessa explains to Brooke as she walks over to her phone and makes to re-start the music.

“Sure. Sounds good,” Brooke nods easily. She adjusts the table and chair that they start off their dance with, makes sure the napkin is in place. Vanessa swallows her anxieties and presses play, dashing over to the chair and sitting down in it.

“Full energy, okay?” she reminds Brooke, although she’s not sure she needs a reminder given that Brooke’s been putting her all into even tiny counts of eight.

The music starts and on the first beat Vanessa stretches out, places her hand against the table. Right on cue, Brooke has grabbed her forearm. Vanessa whips her head around to face her and Brooke draws their faces close with the palm of her hand flat against Vanessa’s cheek. Their eyes connect and for a second, Vanessa thinks she can see what looks like longing in the dark of Brooke’s pupils.

It’s just the dance. She has to be imagining it.

As quickly as she’s there Brooke is suddenly gone, spinning around and slamming her hand against the napkin in time with Vanessa. They raise it up so it’s level between them and Vanessa uses it to twirl in close to Brooke, their bodies instantly pressed together. Brooke’s got both hands on the napkin now and she’s using it to keep Vanessa close to her as she leans back then spins between Brooke’s left and right side. As Brooke lets go of the prop with one hand and Vanessa twirls across to the other side of the ballroom, she watches her scrunch the napkin up and slam it to the floor. The action makes her catch her breath. Brooke’s a good actress, and they’ve done this section hundreds of times, but the passion and frustration with which she’s doing it this time almost knocks Vanessa off balance.

Is she…? No.

They reach the section where they’re in hold but showing off the footwork. Vanessa doesn’t do it all, only makes sure she’s connecting legs with Brooke for the Ganchos, but it’s probably for the best as the eye contact they’re giving each other and the close proximity between their faces is almost burning. Part of Vanessa wants to look away it’s so intense, but they’re running the full dance and she did tell Brooke to give full energy so she has to hold up her end of that. They’re perfectly in sync the entire time, Brooke having memorised the choreography so well. Brooke lifts her to drag her across the floor and if Vanessa deliberately hooks her leg a little higher on Brooke’s waist then it’s simply a happy coincidence.

The next section flows well (Brooke makes a few little mistakes she’ll pull her up on) and when Brooke lifts Vanessa to spin her round her cheek is pressed against her chest and it sends a shockwave down Vanessa’s spine. Their faces are close again as they walk across the rehearsal room floor, Vanessa dipping down facing away from Brooke to extend her leg between Brooke’s open ones. Her arms lock around Brooke’s thighs for support and Brooke grips onto them as she helps her up, the power and force she uses when she spins Vanessa round and presses their foreheads together sending Vanessa up in flames. They’ve danced through these individual sections so many times but put together it’s almost too much. There’s an atmosphere in the air and Vanessa realises it’s the exact same as when they’d rehearsed the Salsa. They cross the floor once more and it reaches the point where Vanessa jumps up to straddle Brooke’s waist with both her legs. Brooke spins her round and Vanessa brings her arms up to cradle the back of her neck. As Brooke slows her spin she reaches the part where she’s meant to dip Vanessa, lower her to the ground, but she’s stopped dancing, electing instead to keep her eye contact steady and burning with Vanessa’s. Vanessa knows she should maybe lower one of her legs, or perhaps both of them, but she’s still got them both wrapped around Brooke’s waist and the fact Brooke’s still holding her without even so much as a tremble is too much. Brooke leans in, presses her forehead against Vanessa’s, and Vanessa can only hold her breath as Brooke squeezes her eyes shut. They’ve never been physically closer to each other and Vanessa knows she should do something, knows she should move the dance along, but her heart is begging Brooke to say something, to do something. She’d do it herself but making the first move didn’t seem to work out for her so great last time.

“Tell me that Sunday happened,” Brooke murmurs, and Vanessa’s heart stops. “Tell me you kissed me.”

Vanessa flushes red. Momentarily, she wonders if this is something Brooke’s doing to build chemistry between them during the dance. If it is then she’s quitting the entire show. Vanessa closes her own eyes, almost embarrassed to admit it. When she opens them, Brooke’s opened hers too and fuck, her eye contact is searing.

“I did,” she confirms. Then, because she’s petty and can’t let her off the hook easily, she raises her eyebrows. “But you never kissed back, remember?”

Vanessa sees the regret flash in Brooke’s eyes for only a second and then the sparkle is back. “No, that doesn’t sound like me. I don’t think that happened. Maybe I’m remembering it wrong though, maybe you need to remind me.”

Vanessa feels as if her synapses are melting. She’s basically being invited to kiss Brooke again, she’s confirming to her that it wasn’t a mistake, she wants it to happen again, that her pulling away the first time was…down to something else? She’s still not going to give Brooke what she wants that easily, though, so she cocks an eyebrow, tilts her head thoughtfully as she pulls back a little. “I’m sure you can remind yourself.”

Brooke doesn’t look deterred by this. She shrugs, fixes Vanessa with a soft smirk. “Okay.”

When Brooke gently leans in and meets Vanessa’s lips with hers, Vanessa is sure she sees fireworks going off in the dark of her closed eyes. She feels them too, they’re happening in every cell of her body because Brooke is voluntarily kissing her and she doesn’t know what this means but she’s going to take a wild guess and say that maybe, just maybe, Brooke likes her back after all. Brooke kisses like she dances- passionate, careful, fucking perfect. As Vanessa kisses back she’s trying not to speed things along, trying to make the moment last as long as she can, but it’s hard not to be eager and urgent and to kiss Brooke with a hunger she hadn’t known she was in possession of until now. She’s brought her hands around from the back of Brooke’s neck- one tangled in her hair, the other softly cupping her cheek- and she tries to channel all her gentleness into them, stroking her skin with her thumb gently as if Brooke is breakable and fragile like the moment they’re sharing.

It’s Vanessa who pulls away first (if only so she doesn’t give Brooke the upper hand of being the first one to pull away twice) and, as she’s depositing herself back on the floor to stand up, she can’t help but break out into a smile because Brooke is blushing and beaming at her and her arms are still wrapped around her waist.

Vanessa doesn’t really know what to say. That…happened. She’s confused, though. Just over twenty-four hours ago Brooke had been pulling away, not pulling her in. Vanessa thinks it’s almost too good to be true.

“Can we talk about all this?” Vanessa says before her brain has a chance to weigh up if it’s a good idea or not. Brooke’s smile falters and Vanessa feels guilty. “Not in a bad way, I just…like, my head is mush.”

“No, no, I get it. Of course we can,” Brooke nods, slides her arms away from Vanessa’s waist. “Here? Or in the canteen? We could go back to mine but it’s a bit far away.”

Vanessa pulls on her oversized jumper and then the green parka she’d wrapped herself up in to protect from the November cold. “I know a place.”

Vanessa drags the pair of them onto the tube and they travel to the Thames embankment, where they stop off at a nearby chippy to grab a styrofoam carton of chips each. The atmosphere between them has shifted- gone are the frosty silences and short conversations. Instead the two of them talk easily, bicker and laugh and flirt about nothing in particular. Vanessa knows they’ll talk things through once they’re comfortable so she settles on rolling her eyes at Brooke making fish puns in the middle of the chip shop (“when you said you knew a place I didn’t think you meant an ACTUAL plaice”). It’s quiet on the embankment, locals all home from work and tourists preferring the pull of the Houses of Parliament or the Eye across the river, so they don’t pass many people and they ones they do pass don’t seem to recognise them. Everything is calm and relaxed and easy, like the inky sky and the clean cold of the air and the smooth surface of the river that’s opposite them as they find a bench with only a few small puddles of water on it and settle down. Vanessa’s heart is thumping hard in her chest as Brooke sits down beside her, sitting diagonally so she can see her as they discuss things. It’s a small thing that Vanessa notices and appreciates.

“So,” Brooke says around a particularly hot chip, her mouth making an ‘o’ and steam flying out of it. “You wanted to talk.”

“Uh, yeah. ‘Cept now we’re here I don’t really know what to say.”

“Do you want me to start?”

Vanessa shrugs, bites into a chip delicately. “If you wanna.”

“Okay, well,” Brooke begins, then looks out to the river. The lights of the Eye are reflected in her own, blues and reds meeting greens and creating a kaleidoscope from which Vanessa never wants to look away. She pauses and takes a deep breath before meeting Vanessa’s eyes. “I’m really sorry for hurting your feelings on Sunday. If you’d kissed me in literally any other context, I wouldn’t have reacted like that. Honestly. I just…didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

Vanessa gives a laugh. She’s confused. “Take advantage?”

“No, I don’t mean like that, I mean…” Brooke frowns as she’s searching for the right words. It’s kind of adorable. “You were upset, you’d had a shit week. The music was all sad and you were crying and then you kissed me and I…didn’t want you to be doing that just because you felt upset. I didn’t want you to do that and then think you’d made a mistake.”

Vanessa pauses. She hasn’t considered that Brooke might have thought Vanessa would regret kissing her. To her the idea is so ridiculous that it almost makes her want to laugh but she doesn’t, because this means that Brooke was overthinking their kiss and trying to talk herself out of the idea of Vanessa possibly liking her back.

Now don’t that sound familiar.

Vanessa tries to stifle a smile as she tilts her head to look at Brooke. “It wasn’t a mistake, baby, I meant the whole damn thing.”

She wants to squeal when Brooke’s face breaks out into an enormous grin, one that Vanessa is sure must hurt her face. Vanessa likes the fact that Brooke is talking, likes the fact she’s saying everything first because it means she gets to hold her guard up just that little bit longer before this girl tears it down and even though she’s ready for that, it doesn’t mean she isn’t ever so slightly scared of it.

“So, uh…” Vanessa asks her, her tone light and teasing. Brooke crosses her legs and Vanessa has to try to stop herself getting any ideas. “That cast member you got a crush on. You gonna tell me who it is now?”

Brooke bursts out laughing, tipping her head back and lacing her hand with Vanessa’s at the same time. “Shut up. Are you really going to make me say it?”

Vanessa simply raises her eyebrows at Brooke, lets her know she’s waiting on her answer. Brooke gives another laugh as she gives in. “Fine! Well…she’s one of the dancers.”

“Uh huh.”

“I saw her on the induction day and I thought she was hot. We had a bit of a flirt and it was all fun and games. Then I followed her on Instagram because I was thirsty. Thought for ages about how to slide into her DMs but I was too much of a scaredy cat so I just commented on one of her pics instead,” Brooke continues to explain. Her admission makes Vanessa giggle, sends her heart leaping into the air because oh my God, Brooke had wanted to talk to her before the series even started too. She was thinking about Vanessa for the same amount of time Vanessa had been thinking about her. “Then it got to the intro show and I was like…screaming inside. I knew I wanted to be partnered with her, I knew even before the induction day because she’s so, so good at what she does. In fact, she needs to believe in herself more, but that’s besides the point. Anyway, we got paired up. I was so fucking ecstatic that night. She drunk-texted me and I actually lay in bed squealing and flailing like a teenage girl because I got so excited that she was thinking of me.”

Brooke is so animated when she’s talking about her crush. Her. She’s talking about her, and Vanessa is so happy and emotional she almost wants to cry but that would be peak pathetic so she squeezes Brooke’s hand instead, the hand that’s still entwined with hers.

“I keep growing closer to her and finding out more about her and she trusts me with stories about her life, trusts me to fling her body around the rehearsal studios despite the fact I’m so fucking clumsy I could drop something that’s superglued to my hand-“

“Stop lyin’, shut up,” Vanessa rolls her eyes at Brooke’s self-deprecation, and Brooke gives a gentle snort of a laugh.

“- And I just keep liking her more and more with every day,” Brooke smiles at her, her face all dreamy and dazed as if she’s sleepwalking. It suddenly snaps into a smirk, her eyes dark and playful, and it’s Vanessa’s turn to cross her legs. “And she doesn’t help any of it by looking like a Gymshark model and sticking her cute little butt out any time we rehearse.”

Vanessa screeches out an outraged laugh which Brooke’s quick to join in with. “Hey, I had to get your attention somehow!”

As their laughter dies down Vanessa fixes Brooke with a smile, scoots closer to her on the bench. “So go on, then. What’s her name?”

Brooke pulls Vanessa close with the hand she’s holding and when she says Vanessa’s name in response she feels worshipped. Suddenly, Brooke’s eyes fly open a little in what seems like panic. “Sorry. Fuck. That was all too much, wasn’t it?”

“Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa laughs. “I’ve had the most huge, embarrassin’ fuckin’ crush on you since God knows when. I really like you. Chill.”

Brooke’s still got a soft little smile on her face and it makes Vanessa wants to kiss her again so much so she pushes the images of long lens cameras out of her mind for the moment and leans in, kisses Brooke soft and gentle and slow and Vanessa doesn’t think she’ll ever get bored of the way Brooke kisses her back.

When Vanessa pulls away she’s right beside Brooke on the bench, so she slings an arm around her waist and rests her head against her chest for good measure. It’s still cold outside but Vanessa hopes that isn’t the only reason for Brooke cuddling her back, linking their hands together like a little chain. Vanessa’s happy, but her mind is still full of thoughts.

“How good are you at keeping secrets?”

“Depends what it is,” Brooke replies. Vanessa tilts her head up before she speaks again because this is important, she needs to see Brooke’s reaction and make sure she says this in the right way.

“I can’t do the whole…paparazzi, me-in-the-papers, invasion-of-privacy thing again. It was bad enough when me an’ Kam broke up,” she begins, and Brooke nods understandingly. “So I guess what I’m askin’ is��can we be careful? Whatever ‘we’ is. I don’t know yet but I don’t mind just figuring things out along the way.”

Brooke nods slowly, taking things in. “So you want to keep us secret for now?”

“Just until the show ends,” Vanessa reassures her, tries to ignore the triple somersault her heart does at the word ‘us’. “I don’t want people thinkin’ it’s a publicity stunt or tryin’ to take attention away from the other couples or anythin’ like that. Also I don’t want this getting ruined for us.”

Vanessa’s heart stands still as Brooke thinks for a second. She’s relieved when a grin spreads across her face. “Can I still flirt with you on Instagram? That’s fun.”

“Flirt with me anywhere you want, boo.”

“God, you know I’m so going to play into this? Think of all those fan accounts for us all those fourteen year olds run. They’re going to implode,” Brooke smiles, bouncing in her seat on the bench excitedly. It’s so endearing it makes Vanessa smile more than she already is. Her heart is still fluttering nervously; there’s butterflies trapped in there and as long as Brooke is holding her hand and smiling at her like that with her eyes all soft Vanessa is not really sure if they’ll ever go away. She doesn’t care, though.  

They stay on the bench for a while until their chips are finished. Brooke takes a photo of Vanessa who smiles brightly at the camera, carton of chips in her lap and her hair all messy over her shoulders but she doesn’t even care because she’s happy, so happy and relieved and when they walk back to the station together it feels like she’s walking on little clouds. They don’t kiss goodbye because it’s busier in the station but Brooke does sneak a peck against her neck when they hug and it makes Vanessa feel gooey inside. When Vanessa gets home that night she has both an Instagram tag and two messages from Brooke. She opens the message first.

B: I’m so glad we talked, I had the best time tonight. Can’t wait until I can take you on a proper date!! See you tomorrow cutie xxxxxx

B: (Sorry if cutie is ick I’m just going to try out a bunch of pet names because I can xxxxxx)

Vanessa feels her heart almost burst open at everything Brooke’s said to her. The confirmation that she enjoyed her company, the promise of a date, the pet name (which she definitely won’t say no to). It’s all like a big hug for her mind which had previously been exhausted with overthinking. Vanessa doesn’t realise how much she’s smiling at her screen as she types out her reply until it physically hurts her face.  

V: me too. you’re so amazing. for ref i like Zoilo if we going bougie or Franco Manca if we broke. cutie gets seal of approval from me… u a bit of a cutie urself xxxxxx

Before she gets ready for bed that night she decides to open up Instagram to see what Brooke has tagged her in. It’s the photo of her on the bench from earlier, and Vanessa wants to blush at how happy and smiley she looks. She scrolls to Brooke’s caption, and if she wasn’t blushing before she’s definitely blushing now.

bhytes: Post-rehearsal chips by the river with this diamond. I could get used to this. 🧡

Their fans are in meltdown in the comments, and Vanessa is melting herself.

Saturday comes quicker than Vanessa wants it to. It’s maybe because she never wants her time with Brooke to end whether that’s on or off the show. They’ve done full runs of their dance each day, the pair of them sneaking kisses with each other sometimes even mid-dance.

“You know we need to stop doin’ that, right?” Vanessa warns Brooke with a smile after Brooke kisses all down her neck mid-Tango in a bid to wind her up (she’d succeeded, and if Vanessa might need to take a cold shower later that’s nobody’s business but her own.)

“Why?”

“Because we’re gonna end up doin’ it on the night an’ then the cat’s outta the bag after what, three days?”

Vanessa doesn’t miss the way Brooke runs her tongue over her lips a little. She’s got a smirk on her face as she pulls her in close, slides her hands down her sides and hooks her fingers over the waistband of her leggings. “Well if you are going to keep wearing things that make your butt look so good, I am going to find it hard to stop kissing you.”

Brooke snaps the elastic of her waistband and Vanessa feels a fire ignite low in her stomach. She’s not told Brooke that she was the girl from her sex dream, she’s been saving that information for another day. She wonders when that day’s going to come, though. If Vanessa had her way she would lock the rehearsal room door, throw herself at Brooke and practically beg the girl to raw her, but she doesn’t know what Brooke’s thinking or feeling and Vanessa doesn’t want to risk ruining the high levels of sexual tension they’ve cultivated over roughly a month by asking her when they’re only 24 hours away from performing another incredibly sexy dance. By Saturday night the pair of them are ready to perform and their biggest challenge, Vanessa thinks, will be to try and act as if they’ve not started seeing each other and are in the complete honeymoon phase of whatever it is they are.

And soon enough Vanessa is sitting on a chair in the middle of the ballroom floor dressed in a long sparkling nude-effect dress with a split up its side, facing away from Brooke who’s in black tailored suit trousers and a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves buttoned up to the neck and an undone bow tie around it. The audience are silent as their VT plays, and then the familiar voice of the commentator is booming overhead.

“Dancing the Argentine Tango…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”

There’s four clicks of drumsticks smacking together before the music starts and the pair of them hit the first beats of the dance. There’s even more electricity between them now and when Brooke grabs her arm, reels her in with the napkin, pulls her close so their bodies are pressed against each other, Vanessa feels as if she’s burning up inside. They added in a little bit of choreo after their kiss and their riverbank date on Wednesday night, and Vanessa’s back is to the audience and the cameras as she gives Brooke a wink, hooks her fingers around each side of the lapels on Brooke’s shirt.

“I’m tellin’ you to loosen up my buttons, babe, uh-huh-”

Vanessa rips the velcro she knows the costume designers have concealed in the lapels and reveals a little strip of Brooke’s chest, her collarbones exposed. The roar that goes up from the audience in response has Vanessa feeling as if they’re dancing in a football stadium rather than the ballroom at Elstree. The shirt isn’t even open enough to expose any of Brooke’s cleavage but Vanessa suddenly realises how people in old-timey costume dramas feel when they see a woman’s ankle. As they press their foreheads together and cross the ballroom floor Vanessa finds it hard not to break character and smile like an idiot at Brooke Lynn, the girl that likes her back, the girl that maybe one day she’ll get to call her girlfriend, the girl that she can kiss any time she likes. She could technically kiss her now as she drops to the floor and Brooke comes with her, still holding her hand with her arm around her waist, but she focuses on getting the Ganchos right because they need a good score. Vanessa needs to show Brooke, show the judges, show every fucking person watching at home that she is a force to be reckoned with, that she can teach and choreograph and make Brooke progress.

Still, it’s hard not to just reach her lips forward and press them against Brooke’s as she drags her across the floor, Vanessa making sure to get her leg as high as it’ll go on her waist just to show Brooke what she’s capable of. As Brooke lifts her up and spins her, Vanessa sneaks a look at the judges’ table. Bianca is watching impassively as usual, Shangela is smiling from ear to ear, Kennedy is screaming and Laganja is leaning almost over the desk, her mouth wide open.

If ever there was a desired reaction to her choreography, it’s probably that.

There’s a point in the middle of the dance where the two of them pause in hold and just give each other an incredibly lingering look. Vanessa doesn’t have to act for this section and as she slowly brings her eyes up from Brooke’s chest to meet her gaze, she feels her knees turn ever-so-slightly weak as she catches the hunger, passion and fire in the other girl’s eyes.

If they don’t get at least 35 in this, Vanessa is going to quit the show and take Brooke with her.

Vanessa can hear the screams from one of the judges as she and Brooke walk slowly across the dancefloor with their hands cradling the back of each others’ necks. Brooke gracefully lowers her to the floor and pulls her up again, Vanessa making sure to press their bodies tight together once she’s in front of her. She catches the way Brooke’s eyes grow ever so slightly wide and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t fill her with a sense of pride. They get to the part that makes Vanessa’s pulse speed up every time- her legs wrapped around Brooke’s waist, Brooke spinning her around- because of all the memories attached to it. This time Brooke doesn’t kiss her, though- she dips her down one way then the other with her strong arms supporting Vanessa’s back.

Vanessa feels safer in Brooke’s arms than she’s ever felt with any six-packed, world-champion male partner. But of course, she knows exactly why that is.

The dance is coming to an end and Vanessa puts her all into walking Brooke back, her hand against her chest. Brooke sits down in the chair, spreads her legs before reaching out and letting Vanessa twirl into her arms, where she leans into her and wraps her arms around Brooke. She knows she’s got her chest pushed right up in Brooke’s face and all she’ll probably be able to smell is her perfume, but Vanessa doesn’t really mind and she’s got a feeling Brooke doesn’t either. As the final notes of the music ring through the studio, the audience are yelling and clapping the place down. Vanessa doesn’t even know if Brooke made any mistakes and at this point she doesn’t care because they did that dance proud, she knows they did, and as Brooke wraps her arms tight around her waist Vanessa feels her press a kiss to her collarbone that makes her giddy. Vanessa squeals with happiness and she feels Brooke pick her up in their hug and walk her over to where Michelle is standing. As they finally break apart she can see the smile on Brooke’s face. Vanessa throws caution to the wind a little, plants both her hands on either side of Brooke’s face so that her eyes are firmly locked on her own.

“We did it, baby,” she whispers to her, and she’s not even sure it’ll be audible over the cheers of the crowd but Brooke nods rapidly in happiness and Vanessa knows she’s been heard.

Michelle finally manages to pry Brooke off of her and get some form of reaction about how she feels the dance went.

“Oh my God, it felt amazing,” Brooke smiles. She’s laced her arm around Vanessa’s waist and Vanessa’s done the same, and Brooke gives her a little squeeze and a smile down at her as she continues. “We’ve obviously had a bit of a crazy week…you know, Vanessa coming back from her injury, but she’s just such a great person and such a great teacher that she still managed to recover and teach me all this, and I’m just so grateful for her. I’m so glad I’ve got her back. She’s not allowed to leave me again!”

Michelle laughs as Brooke puts her other arm around Vanessa to hug her, and Vanessa happily reciprocates.

“Vanessa, how do you think Brooke Lynn got on this week?”

Vanessa pries herself out from under Brooke’s arm and simply smiles up at her in response. “She knows how amazin’ I think she is, I’m gonna let the judges tell her instead.”

Michelle gives another laugh and so do some of the judges. Vanessa doesn’t miss the single raised eyebrow that Bianca shoots towards her. Her stomach dips. Maybe they hadn’t been as good as she’d thought…?

“Speaking of judges- Bianca, let’s come to you first. How did Brooke do?”

“Well…” there’s a silence as Bianca shuffles her notes a little. Vanessa feels her heart stand still. “I thought…that it was absolutely brilliant.”

The audience erupts. Vanessa is so shocked and happy that she can’t help the grin that breaks out on her face, and she and Brooke both instantly reach for each other to hug. There’s a rare smile to Bianca’s voice as she continues. “Brooke Lynn, there’s one thing that Vanessa can’t teach you, in fact nobody can teach it, and that’s chemistry. The chemistry you had with Plastique last week was great but the chemistry you have with Vanessa is incredible. The Argentine is all about that, it’s the passion and the fire, and you encapsulated that so well. Watch with the Ganchos that your feet are pointed all the way down, we should have a full 180 degrees there which I know you can do because I’ve seen it before- and it should be more of a light motion, you’re not churning butter…but other than that, a great job this week, well done.”

Vanessa looks up at Brooke and she’s still smiling as Michelle comes onto Shangela. She and Kennedy both give them glowing praise, the pair of them also mentioning the chemistry between them, and then it’s Laganja’s turn. The audience are already giggling in anticipation- they know she’s theatrical, and her reaction is going to be big. Vanessa watches as she sits composed in her chair, narrows her eyes, and points at them both with her pen.

“Is there…something going on…?” she asks. Vanessa feels her hand tighten around Brooke’s waist. She clenches her teeth together as she smiles. Fuck. Have they been too obvious? Laganja pauses dramatically as Brooke gives a laugh Vanessa can tell is fake. “I mean…first that American Smooth, and then that Viennese, and now THIS? Is there something in the air tonight, Fernando?!”

Vanessa lets out a relieved laugh as Laganja references Gigi and Crystal and Jan and Jackie’s dances, realises she’s not asking specifically about her and Brooke.

“LADIES, ma’am, I don’t have any earthly words for what I just witnessed!! The connection you two have is just incomparable…Brooke, you’ve been so great the past two weeks but I can tell you’re at your most comfortable and your happiest when you’re dancing with Vanessa, it’s like you’re here, you’ve arrived! This is elevated, mama! I don’t know if you could hear me screaming when you dragged Vanessa across the floor-”

“New Zealand heard that scream, Laganja,” Bianca cuts in deadpan, and the audience laughs.

“- yes thank you, Simon Cowell! Maybe your feet weren’t as pointed as they could’ve been during the Ganchos- you know what, I honestly don’t care! I wasn’t looking at your feet! I spent that entire dance wondering if you were going to smooch each others’ faces off midway through!”

Vanessa bursts out laughing as she feels Brooke do the same beside her. They’re both squeezing each others’ sides for dear life. If they only fucking knew.

“Great job, Brooke, and Vanessa- welcome back, ma, that’s how you return after an injury.”

The audience clap them as Michelle sends them upstairs, and Vanessa’s hand is tight in Brooke’s as they run up to the Divinatorium and are greeted by Divina herself. She interviews the pair of them but Vanessa can hardly speak, she’s practically vibrating with excitement beside her partner. Their comments were so encouraging, the best they’ve had. Brooke’s never had a 10 from any of the judges before. Maybe tonight is the night?

“Will the judges please reveal their scores. Bianca Del Rio.”

Vanessa’s screaming before Bianca can even speak, because there, on the paddle, is an, “Eight!”

Brooke’s arm flies around her waist in a hug but Vanessa can’t yet accept it, her eyes glued to the screen.

“Kennedy Davenport.”

“Nine!” she says happily, and Vanessa is so happy that she can almost feel tears stinging her eyes.

“Shangela Wadely.”

“Nine!” she beams at the camera, sticking her paddle into the air. Vanessa’s heart lifts itself up into the rafters as the camera pans to Laganja’s seat. She gave them the most favourable critiques. Maybe…?

“Laganja Estranja.”

“I hope y’all are ready for this…TEN!” she screeches as she stands up, and Vanessa can barely take in the amount of things that happen at once. Her pulse skyrockets, Brooke practically leaps on her in her haste to wrap her in a hug, the other couples are screaming and cheering and clapping for them, and her eyes basically spring a leak. She has no idea why she’s so emotional but Jesus Christ, she’s allowed to be after the past few weeks she’d had. Laganja thought their dance was a ten. A perfect ten. Flawless. Impeccable. They’re second on the leaderboard behind Jan and Jackie (who scored thirty-eight). Vanessa feels like running back down the stairs and kissing the judges, never mind Brooke Lynn beside her.

But of course, the thought of kissing Brooke is one that isn’t too far away, and they’re walking down the corridors, laughing and chatting after their reaction interview and about to go back to makeup when Brooke slows beside her dressing room door, laces her hands in Vanessa’s.

“Um…” she casts her eyes downwards, and when she meets Vanessa’s gaze again there’s a little glint in her eye that makes Vanessa squeeze her thighs together. Brooke puts on her very best, professional, TV presenter voice as she talks. “Vanessa. Would you mind helping me with something for two minutes in my dressing room?”

Vanessa almost feels her pupils blow as Brooke gently tugs her in. The moment she steps through the dressing room door Brooke wastes no time in closing it, spinning her round and pressing her up against it as she crashes their lips together. Vanessa has to stop herself from sliding down the door, feeling like a snowman in July as Brooke’s soft lips press against hers and her tongue licks gently into her mouth. If Brooke’s tongue can make her feel this weak when they’re just kissing, Vanessa almost doesn’t dare think about how good it could feel elsewhere.

Vanessa can give as good as she gets though, and she likes to have the upper hand so she  drops her lips to Brooke’s neck, presses frantic kisses down down down to her collarbone where she sucks at the skin, bites ever so gently then licks over the mark she’s just created, kissing hard against it once, twice, three times before she feels Brooke lean down to murmur into her ear.

“That better not’ve left a mark.”

Vanessa’s spine feels like an electricity pylon. “Does it feel like it didn’t leave a mark?”

Her breath hitches as Brooke slams her knee in between her thighs, cages her in. Brooke’s voice is a low whisper as she kisses her neck, making Vanessa whine. “You’re so bad, fuck.”

“You like it when I’m bad, huh?” Vanessa teases, dropping both her hands to Brooke’s waist as she bucks her hips against her. The friction has got her feeling tightly wound and she needs more, way more than this.

“God, yes,” Brooke sighs, brings her mouth back up to kiss her again. It’s not as frantic as their first; this time it’s slow, teasing, and driving Vanessa absolutely insane. They’ve not talked about this, where this is going to go, and Vanessa doesn’t want to assume anything but still…Brooke’s got her in a pretty compromising position. She’s still going to check though, so she pulls back, murmurs against Brooke’s lips as she places both her hands on either side of her jaw.

“What do you want, baby?”

Brooke gives a sigh mixed up with a gasp as Vanessa trails a finger down her neck, stops it at her chest right where her shirt’s buttoned up. “Ah…want you to-”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Vanessa launches herself away from the door, almost jumps into Brooke’s arms Scooby-Doo style in shock. Brooke’s got her arms around Vanessa, her eyes equally wide and her mouth just as slack-jawed. She steps away quickly as whoever’s behind the door starts speaking.

“Brooke Lynn? You and Vanessa are needed in makeup.”

Vanessa can see Brooke swallowing thickly, the rise and fall of her chest as she tries to compose herself. The very sight of that alone makes Vanessa’s mouth dry. “Okay, no worries! We’ll be down soon!”

The pair of them stand in the dressing room in silence listening to the sound of the runner walking away. It’s funny- the pair of them sneaking around like they’re in high school or some shit, and it makes Vanessa press her lips together in an attempt to stifle a laugh. She looks at Brooke Lynn, who’s got much the same expression on her face. It’s Brooke that cracks first, and soon the pair of them are standing giggling together.

“Nothing like getting the absolute shit scared out of us to really kill the mood,” Brooke laughs softly, reaching out and tucking a piece of Vanessa’s hair behind her ear that has come loose from its bun. Vanessa smiles, sighing a little and taking her hand.

“We should go. It’ll be a batterin’ ram next.”

“Right,” Brooke shrugs a little, stroking the back of Vanessa’s hand with her thumb. Vanessa can see she’s holding something back and just as she’s about to ask her what it is, Brooke meets her eyes. “You think we’re going through to Blackpool?”

Vanessa has almost forgotten what week it is next week; where the dancers all travel up to the iconic Blackpool Tower ballroom for one night away from Elstree. They pull out all the stops that night and they’re allowed backup dancers and even sometimes a set instead of just props. She tilts her head in thought- the fact that by the end of tonight there’ll be just six of them left in the competition is wild to her, the whole thing is going so quickly. She can see in Brooke’s eyes that she’s not forgotten, though, the nerves almost visibly clouding her vision, so Vanessa leans up and presses a soft kiss to her lips and feels Brooke relax against her.

She pulls away and shoots Brooke a soft grin. “After that performance? You might as well start packing your case, baby.”

[iwannaholdyoutight-]

SUNLIGHT

Summary: Welcome to Mattina ed Estasi, an art gallery dedicated to show the art of seduction. This story is dedicated to the discover of true sex.

A/n: each day has a painting, please click on the link, likes and reblogged are love and if you come talk to me about it: I’ll love you forever. Please read end notes, it’s important

Find my masterlist HERE

Find the Pinterest page for this fic HERE

Somewhere in Italy, 1978…..

Day 1: Mattina ed Estasi https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Extasy/300907/4211239/view

Lavignia was going to have a syncope. She was sure of it. It was hot, hotter than any other summer she has ever lived in her 25 years of life upon this earth. Her pink loose dress was sticking like glue because of the heat and she was late for her first day at the new job.

Fucking amazing, right?

The bus was late and then she got lost because she should have turned right but she took a left and her Italian isn’t amazing enough to understand what the old lady was trying to explain her, she was speaking too fast and Lav was far too nervous to concentrate. 

But finally she saw the brick walls built in an elegant way. She saw the big stained glass with the mermaid. She had finally found Mattina ed Estasi, or “morning and ecstasy” in English. This is going to be her new job - new home- for at least the next 18 months (that was what the contract said, at least). 

Having graduated just a year ago from the University of Coimbrã with a major in arts and communication, Lavignia found herself without a job and without the possibility of asking for her folks to help since they didn’t want her to go to college at all (she had one job and that was to marry well…. and that’s clearly not what she did). 

But a friend of a friend told her one night about this gallery in Italy that needed someone to work there. This person had to speak English, to communicate with all of the tourist and had to know a lot about art. 

Thank god she knew both. 

Packing her bags, she dished her job at the bar and went to Italy on the morning train all the way from France. With all of her articles about art and the hope of a brand new start. 

Taking a deep breath she walked through the doors, coming face to face with a tall red head: “you must be Vanessa! Mrs. Lovelace told me you would be here. 

She was nervous, feeling short when standing side by side with this gorgeous woman. Her hair all messy from the wind and heat. But Vanessa, with a freckled face and very blue eyes, opened a smile and refused her hand shake, going for a hug. 

“Hello, Lavignia. Yes, Mrs. Lovelace has told me all about you, she seemed excited, she loved your article about the art movements as protest  against the military coups in Latin-America.” 

“I’m glad. And please, call me Lav” 

“Of course. Ready to begin our training?”

They started to walk around the gallery. An intimate space with golden artificial lights, a crew of men was working with all of the artwork for the new exposition: “Love and Sex”. 

“What do you know about our new work? I just need to know everything you were told so I can help you with the rest” 

“Well, I received a lot of books to study the theme on the last few days. Love and Sex is all about the the raw emotions of the human body, showing how much they are alike but also not so different. One complements the other but at the same time you can have sex without feeling in  love, and you can fall in love and not have sex.” She could feel the embarrassment from talking so much about this subject with someone she barely knows but since it was about art becomes more acceptable. 

“Yes. You are very correct. We are getting pieces from the renaissance era till the new paining by erotic artist Joan Semmel, our biggest conquest of this is actually her painting “Sunlight”, but Harry still has to bring that one”

“Nice. But who is Harry?” 

“Oh, didn’t Mrs. Lovelace told you about the owners of the shop?” 

Lavignia shook her head in a negative but said “only that she was one of them.”

“We have three owners. The first one is Jeannie Lovelace”  the one who interviewed Lavignia just 5 days before. She was around her late sixties, beautiful long silver hair and blue eyes. Very elegant lady always using nice bell pants and white shirts. “Well, first, never call her Mrs. Lovelace to her face, she doesn’t like being treated like she is elite, even if she is. Some people say that on her younger days she had an affair with Duke Elligton, can you imagine?” 

They laughed together, this beautiful old lady must have so much to tell if given the opportunity . 

“Anyway, she was the founding mother of this beautiful gallery. She never got married so her true love is art. She founded this gallery back in 1961 with the money she inherited from her father company back in the U.S”. 

“Nice. There is two others right?” She said while pointing to a board with the story of the gallery “This Harry you just told me about and Jesse right?” 

“Yes. Let me start with the worse: Jesse Fire. Firstly, I’m pretty sure that’s not his real name. He’s this elite lawyer and a jackass with everyone he doesn’t find worthy of his time. He only puts money on this gallery because it’s a good investment and makes him have a “intelectual image” for the tabloids. Don’t worry too much about him but if he ever appears just try to not talk to him, and you’ll be fine. He is on holiday and won’t return for another three months. And he lives in Rome, so even when he’s in the country he comes here only for big openings and our parties. We are all safe.” 

She opened a huge smile 

“Now, let’s talk about the last one: Harry. Do you happen to know H.E Styles?” 

“You mean the erotic poet and composer? The one people are always talking about his sexual escapades and charming ways” 

“That one. Well… that’s Harry. I mean, we all know Harry made his money with art and he likes to spend his money with more art. Shocking, right? He has the biggest collection of sensual masterpieces. From paintings to sculptures and even vintage sex toys: he has it all. Actually this exhibition was his idea. The main pieces will have a poem by him attached to it.” 

“And how many pieces are we hoping for?”

“Around 10. He’s going to write new poems for the main events, inspired by a few of the art pieces and will release a book at the end of everything. And that’s the reason why we still don’t have the painting by Semmel. He is struggling with that one and took home last Friday and promised to bring here today. 

“And it’s not here today” said a raspy slow voice from the back door. He was using a blue chiffon shirt almost completely  unbuttoned with a pair of high waisted white jeans and a glittery boot, with heels that gave him at least 3 inches more. “I am so glad to see my favorite red hair today. It was a tuff weekend” 

He got closer and she could finally see his face: green eyes, beautiful wavy brown hair and a nice crooked smile with dimples just to make it more adorable. And he had a mustache. Lav absolutely hates mustaches, but if it’s this handsome fellow that has one…. she wouldn’t complain. 

“What happened? Couldn’t find inspiration again?” Vanessa said while touching his arm. Of course a guy that hot would go for a girl like Nessa. They looked like a power couple together. 

“First I thought I could get inspiration if I could just stare at the painting. But it didn’t work so I called Daniel and Melissa, maybe with a fun three way party I could feel inspired, wrong. Then yesterday, I thought “maybe I need to see the world with different eyes” so I popped a few acid tablets… didn’t work. So now I’m here, on a Monday morning, asking you PLEASE let me have the painting for a few more days” 

It was too much information for Lav to take, in three days he had done more than she has done her whole life. That made her feel quite uneasy. 

“That depends, Styles… will you borrow your beach house for the summer so I can have my honeymoon with Cathy there?” 

Oh, she has a fiancée, thought Lavignia, how silly could she be, thinking they were a couple. 

“I was already going to offer you this and you know it. But of course, my Calihouse is yours for the time you want it for your honeymoon” he finally locked eyes with the brunette who was feeling like an outsider listening to private conversation: “and who is this Dove? Is she the new curator you and Lovelace were talking about?” 

“Yes, Lavignia this is Harry. Harry this is Lavignia” 

 She gave him an awkward smile. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles”

She raised her hand to shook his that was already reaching out for her. But, instead of a shake, he took her hand and before giving a kiss he whispered to her hand “please, call me Harry.” He kissed her hand and let her hand go, using the tips of his fingers to caress her arm on the way down from its previous position. 

“She is actually going to create the sequence for the pieces and the artistic and historical explanation of the pieces from the the exhibition”. 

“I thought I was going to write this” 

“Yeah but she has the technical knowledge. So you are going to look at the art, find a meaning behind and she is going to write the explanation for the techniques and whatsoever and to the presentationwould be interesting if you guys worked together” 

That’s when it hit Lavignia: they had 6 days till the opening and absolutely zero idea of what they were going to produce. 

“Wait….. we have six days to plan this whole thing?”  

Harry laughed. 

“Yes, we have done a lot but still, we have a lot do. Right now the focus is to create a storyline to exhibit everything and it has to go well with the main theme. Welcome to our gallery” he said with a smile. “But I’m sure it’s going to be an easy job. Because love and sex are so inherent to the human being” 

That wasn’t going to be an easy job. She didn’t know much about love or sex. 

.

After their conversation, the day was just a blurry memory: checking the pieces, looking for articles and references about each one. Harry would once in a while come and check on Lav, ask her if she wanted anything and sometimes he would just look at her, like he was trying to memorize her face. 

It was already 7 pm and Lav and Nessa were getting their stuff to leave when Harry came up to talk to them: 

“Girls, Lovelace just called the office and asked if we want to have dinner at her place. I’m going, care to join?” 

“I can’t, have to meet Cathy. We have a dinner date to try and finally find a date that is good to get married” said Nessa “but I think it would be good for Lav so she can get a feel about how we work” 

“I can give you a ride if you want” Harry offered with a sweet smile, putting both of his hands on the reception table and getting closer to her face. 

“Uh, sure. Let me just get the rest of my stuff” 

“Sure, I’m waiting outside” 

Vanessa was looking down at her with cheeky eyes and knowing smile: “you are going to have the best fuck of your life” Lav eyes grew wide “oh me and my fiancée once had a threesome with Harry. A one time thing but didn’t he gave us the ride of our lives” 

“There will be no fu… mingling with the boss for me. Thank you very much” Lavignia said while getting the rest of her stuff and walking away with heavy steps and wide angry eyes. She was already out of the door but she could still listen to Vanessa’s laughter. 

She started looking for a nice and extravagant car but what she found was Harry leaning on a very red Harley Davidson. Picking at his nails, tearing off the nail polish in the process. 

“Hey. Ready?” She was shaking she had never walked on a motorcycle. 

“Kinda. Never been on a motorcycle before” 

“What a pleasure to be the your first ride then” Harry said giving her a blinking eye and a mischievous smile. “First let’s  put this thing on you” he got closer to her with a blue helmet with silver stars in hand. 

First he caressed her messy curls and then slided the helmet on her head, never taking his green eyes off of her: “you look perfect with this on, like you belonged on a fast ride, just like this ride I’m going to give you” 

She didn’t know how to answer that, she could just blush. 

“Let’s go?”  Nodding with her hand and getting onto the bike with Harry, Lavignia had this nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach: it burned. Every single time he turned a left she would end up brushing her front against his back that was covered by the thin blue shirt. She never felt this spark before, almost like something in her body was screaming for the feel of him. Maybe was the fact they spent the day in the middle of sensual pieces of arts, maybe was the fact that the smell of vanilla on his neck made her think of sex.

And she never thought of sex, never understanding what was the appeal to showcase something it was supposed to be so intimate, and he didn’t have any filter when it comes to it. Maybe the almost 4 years without someone between her legs have finally got her and she was going crazy.

After it felt like an eternity in a war with her own thoughts, they came to a stop on a small circle park with 5 houses surrounding the area . All of them were big and out of a art decor movie. They came to a stop in front of one of the houses: this one was yellow with high walls and a lot of plants all over the entrance. 

“This is Jeannie Lovelace house. My house is the other one on the other side of the park” Harry finally said, without taking his helmet off, pointing towards a house with a bright orange tone to it with rounded windows and a balcony that was exposed for the street, full red roses. “She is already expecting us, you can go inside, I’m just gonna drop my bike at my house. Do you live close?”

“No, I live close to the beach, close to that souvenir shop, you know? It’s about 30 bus stops from the gallery.”

“You can stay at my place, if you want” he said in a normal tone but a sparkle was found inside his eyes, maybe she wasn’t the only one that was left shook from their little trip standing so close together.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” she could admire him, but she couldn't touch. She only knew him for a few hours but she knew it was trouble. And maybe her tone was quite condescending because Harry changed his posture and stopped smiling and just pronounced a small and guilty “okay” before driving towards his house, acting almost like he was feeling shameful. Before Knocking on the door there was only one thing in her mind: this was going to be an extressfull dinner. 

.

Day 2: Woman with the black stockings 

(Painting they talk about: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/ac/Schiele_-_Frau_mit_schwarzen_Strümpfen_-_1913.jpg )

“Darling, wake up” she could feel Jeannie elegant voice talking quietly “it’s almost 9, if you want to be on time to your meeting with Harry, you have to wake up now”

Meeting? When did she and Harry settled a meeting hour? Lav’s last memory was from getting another glass of the green drink because she was quite overwhelmed with the conversation topics. She didn’t even knew there was so much it could be talked about sex.

“Sorry” she said getting up “my head is killing me. Thank you for letting me crash here, I don’t even remember how I made it to this bed” she looked around, being in a big room with with walls and drawing of flowers all over it, Lovelace was standing right next to her holding a plate full of food. 

“Oh, darling there is nothing to be sorry for. You should thank Harry, he was the one who carried you over here” she said while settling the plate on her lap “but a little piece of advice? When it comes to absint you don’t drink more than 3 shots, now eat. Do you remember what we talked about last night?”

Oh God, she didn’t want to hear all of that AGAIN but she had to be honest: “after my third glass my mind is just a blackout. I’m so embarrassed”she said while getting the beautiful croissant and taking a bite of it and it was so good “You only know me for two days, you are my BOSS and I made a complete fool of myself”

“Again: nothing to be sorry for, everybody in the gallery is like family to me. Not counting Jesse, he is just someone that gives us money…. think of him like the awful uncle that everybody has to deal with” laughing at her own joke  “We just talked about the opening then me and Harry stared to exchange stories… that was when you started to drink a little too much.”

“I just… I hope this doesn’t get me fired but, you all just treat sex like it isn’t an act it should be kept in your bed and I got nervous yesterday with the topics of the conversation once we stopped talking business and especially Harry I mean…. I met him when he was talking about a menage he had in search for inspiration to write about an art piece” She said with open eyes and exasperated sigh

“Lavignia, sweetie, you know that this gallery is about sex right? We showcase pieces with a sensual and sexual background. Also we hold parties, books reading, music. Look at the name we gave it: MORNING AND EXTASE”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry Mrs. Lovelace, when we talked you only told me about this exposee we are doing and I thought that was it. I know that sensuality and art are two themes that often come together but ….”

“There is no problem, Lavignia” she said in a more serious tone, yeah, Lav was out of a job only on her second day, she was sure of it. “Look, I was so ecstatic to have someone with your resume that I only talked about what we are working on right now. Can I ask you something? Give us a chance, please? Especially Harry, he is a sweet guy who lives and feels everything, he gives himself whole in everything: art, friendship, love, sex. I wish I could have met someone like him when I was younger, I would be married, maybe.” She said with a sweet smile “When we are over with the planning of this, if you wish, you can let us go. But try and immerse yourself with us, there is more to the world than ‘waking up, growing old and dying’. If at the end of this you don’t wanna stay, I will find you a job at the most traditional art gallery. But, give us a chance, there is something behind your eyes that longs for something, I can see it, let us show you there is no shame in living.”

Looking at her hands, Laviginia thought about how she was never satisfied, leaving her parents home when they wanted her to get married to their neighbor, going to college in another country, then going to Paris to find a job and failing and now having this big opportunity in her hands: she couldn’t say no; so she nodded and got a big hug from the elegant old lady.

“Now, I asked Harry to get you a few clothes ‘cause I figured you wouldn’t want to be another entire day with the same ones.  He is already here with the clothes I’m going to get it for you. Take a shower. We’ll be waiting for you in the living room” Jeannie said getting up from her sitting down position in bed but before she could reached the door she turned to Lav and said “and another thing: don’t ever call me Mrs again, either Jeannie or Lovelace. Okay?” and with that she left the room and Lav went to shower, knowing she had a chance in her hands and the only person who could mess this chance up. 

.

After taking her shower Lavignia came back to the room to find not only clothes but shoes and underwear and even a perfume, on top there was a note: 

Lovelace would not forgive me if I got you clothes and didn’t bought you a perfume. According to her a woman is naked without a scent. I hope I got the sizing right. 

H.

PS: I would love to see you wearing the lingerie, this one was all Jeannie. 

Of course he would said something like that. The clothes consisted of a black mini dress with red little hearts and a high turtleneck, together with black boots and a thigh high black stockings. The lingerie was pretty, a set with a bright cherry color made of  lace and satin. She loved looking at the mirror using such a beautiful piece, there was something about her she didn’t knew it could be achievable: she looked quite sensual. She felt like she was Twiggy herself (even if she didn’t look at all like Twiggy).

Last but not least: the perfume. It was Paris by YSL and it smelled like richness and sex. Of course he wouldn’t give any less than something like this. But she couldn’t lie, she was grateful for him, Lav knew she was quite harsh to him just the night before with her judgmental looks and words, but even then he got out of this way to help someone he only knew for 24 hours. 

Getting down the stairs she could ear the light tone of their conversation, something about “opening yourself for love”, it seems like Lav was not the only one that was getting a preach from the one and only Jeannie Lovelace. 

With the sound of her footsteps getting closer, Harry turned around and smiled: “glad I got the sizing right. You look nice.” He was getting up and so was Jeannie

“I’m going to give you guys a ride and then I’m picking Nessa up, we are going to the train station”

“I thought we all were working together today” Harry said while walking side by side with both women toward the backdoor that lead to the garage. Jeannie gave them both a big smile:

“Early this morning I got the news: We got the Corregio” in that moment Harry lifted Jeannie up and started to kiss her cheeks while saying “I knew you could do it”.

Antonio da Corregio was an painter from the italian renaissance, being able to get one of his pieces to put on display outside from its home museum in Viena was almost impossible . Lav was looking at the interaction and saw it for the first time: Lovelace saw Harry like a son. They were a little happy family. What she didn’t expect was Harry to put Jeannie down and take her into his arms, giving a big hug and involving her in his smell all over again. 

“Now, let’s go kids. You two have to analyse the Schiele piece and me and Vanessa have a date with Corregio”. And so they left in a very lilac mercedes. 

.

Laviginia couldn’t stop sweating, she was standing side by side with Harry in front of a big painting of a woman sitting down, pushing her skirt up so she could show all of her private parts. With very red lips and nipples and black stockings, very similar to the ones Harry got her, and from his face, she was sure it was not a mere coincidence.

“What do you think we should do with this one?” Harry asked

“I think every piece of art tells a story and we have to discuss about this piece, what story does it tells us” Lav said getting away from the painting and closer to the books she had spread all over the table, looking for her bookmarks about Egon Shiele  and any piece of information about his painting The woman with black stockings.  She looked over at Harry and he looked relaxed with his with long sleeve shirt full of drawings on the sleeves and blue jeans. He was calm while waiting for her to tell him about whatever piece of information she found on the books. Her mind was going crazy, she was sweating through all of her pores, there was the same unfamiliar warmth in the pit of her stomach and there was Harry, changing his attention between her and the naked woman like they were talking about the weather. Finally she found the information she was looking for in one of the many bookmarks she made “This dates back to 1913, he got arrested countless time because of his art…”

“It’s ridiculous being arrested for making his art, especially one so intimate but I understand the time but so be it, I hate it when people make sex such a taboo. But please, continue with what you were telling me”

Cleaning her throat, she continued “according to this the reason behinds his arrests were his nude and semi-nude portrayals of his lovers. It also says those portrayls are so beguiling is quite simple: they have a filth quality to it. He likes to portrait his adoration towards woman and sex”

“Wow, that’s probably the most of dirty talk you have ever made in your life, I’m proud you got to reading all of this only blushing a bit” he looked at her with kind eyes and a smirk gracing his beautiful rosé lips “Okay, he wants to show devotion and rawness to it, right? There is this gorgeous woman spread open for him, longing for him as I hope he was longing to get between her legs and get so deep they don’t know when one ends and the other begins. I think that the theme of this is want, is the disinhibition, not being ashamed of wanting something that is so good” Lav felt like he was talking about her and not the painting “He has a dirty mind freakness, doesn’t only show people what he is seeing, he shows us his desire and let us get into his intimate for one reason: he painted his lovers, people he knew from inside out, people who must have some meaning to him. The fact that he can put together adoration and the most primal act of the human race, takes his art from merely beautiful to widely erotic”

“What does it feel like?” she asked him “being able to see and feel and talk about this without feeling like it’s wrong? Being able to let yourself go”

Harry looked at her and she had no idea what his face was telling her. He was sitting on the floor and pated the place in front of him in a silence request for her to join him. She sat in front of him, folding her legs and looking him in the eye

“I always felt like there was more to life than the one I was leading on, you know? My family came from money, but everything just felt the same, so one day, as soon as I turned 18, I went to Los Angeles, that was 10 years ago, ending of the 60s and beginning of the 70s, David Bowie was still becoming what he is now, Beatles had just broken up Fleetwood Mac didn’t have Stevie Nicks. There I met people who showed me more and more of living and then I started writing, becoming myself. It was with my art that made my own money and got kind of famous but I never actually showed my face to magazines till  I came to Italy when I heard that the gallery wasn’t doing very well, offered to help and I gained a second mother in Lovelace, she was there for me all the time and she was the first one to tell me that I didn’t have to be ashamed of who I was, if I like a bit of everything or if I dress quite flamboyant or anything.” Harry smiled “ That’s what she wants for everybody: have a fulfilling life like hers, without any fears. It’s all a learning you know, one day at the time, you get there.” Harry took her hand and gave it a kiss “tomorrow we’ll all be together to look at the Corregio, you can talk about whatever you are feeling, I promise you: no one is going to judge you.”

“You know it would be nice to just be able to talk about this without feeling like I’m going to hell and I don’t even believe there is a hell.”

“If hell is full of people who don’t care about labels and know how to have fun… I don’t wanna go to heaven “ Harry smiled “but you know, I’m a GREAT teacher, I would love to teach you how to be less awkward when it comes to the theme, after all you are working for a gallery about sex”

“I’m not having sex with you”

“God, Lav, don’t be such a pervert, I was talking about being less shy when it comes to talking about it. Come on repeat with me ‘fuck me’ without blushing”

“Fuck me”

“No, fuck me” 

“Fuck me” 

“No”

“Fuck me”

“Finally! That’s my girl.” Harry said giving a peck to her nose. “Now, how about we go eat a nice gelato, my treat. Then we can come back to talk about the painting”

.

Day 3: Jupiter and Aphrodite

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fb/Correggio_028c.jpg

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fb/Correggio_028c.jpg

“I crave your mouth, you voice, your hair/ Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets/ Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day/ I hunt for the the liquid measure of your steps” the words from the poem left Harry’s mouth like honey. When they both arrived early to the gallery, Harry sat on the floor with a poetry book and asked if she wanted him to read for him. “I hunger for you sleek laugh/ your hands the color of savage harvest/ hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails/ I want to eat your skin like a whole almond”

When Harry said that sentence he stopped briefly and looked at Lavignia, wanting to see her reaction. He didn’t choose that poem with no intend, he wanted her to see how sexuality and love could be show on poem, with such a easy passion, no shame. She was looking right at the pearls he was wearing around his neck, thinking he didn’t noticed the way she was staring at his chest and necklace, he licked his lips and continued: “I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body/ the sovereign of your arrogant face/ I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes.

The more Harry read, the more Lavignia was imagining he was doing all the the things quoted, adoring her body with such hunger, she was thanking God that he was close to finish his reading: “And I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight/ Haunting for you, for your hot heart/ Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue” He closed the book and looked at her:” so, that was the Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda, what do you think of it?”

“It’s beautiful”

“Only beautiful? What do you feel when you listen to those words. Erotism can also come in form of beautiful words, to show those feelings and to have them returned are a bliss, if is a one night or a lifetime.”

She wanted to be like him, like everybody she met during those 3 days, so she trying to raise her voice and finally say something:

“I feel hunger. Hunger for life. I don’t want to feel like it’s wrong to desire someone”

Harry got closer to her, almost touching their knees together. The moment he walked through the door last monday he was captivated by the girl wearing the cherry tree print dress. He couldn't stop watching her every movement, how she would stare at each art piece with a passion observation yet timid eyes, how she would like at him like he was from mars, she had so much inside of her screaming to break out of the coffins of her mind and heart, and Lovelace made him promise he would help her, she saw so much of her in Lavignia. 

“Would you like to try and  live the life you always longed for?” he asked her.”You will never be judged here, that is a promise I make you, in the name of everybody”

She was hypnotized by his eyes and the thought of finally exploring whatever she felt since she was younger and everybody always told her how wrong it was: this hunger. Ever since she read the Betty Friedan book “The feminine mystique” and was shocked to find out that women also could find pleasure in sex just like men. Never having the courage but each day inside the gallery she could feel the same insistent pit in her stomach always asking for more” So she just nodded and Harry got even closer, so close she could see the blue and golden inside his eyes and could hear his breathing and smell the mint in his breath.

This guy that just this weekend was having threesomes was going to kiss her shamelessly inside  their workplace. And she was going to let him. 

“Good Morning darlings” said the elegant voice of Jeannie coming from the front door “I’m a little bit late but I got fresh macarons from the french bakery close to Nessa’s place. She is just parking the … oh” Finally looking at the young couple on the floor so close that it was unmistakable that they were about to kiss when the owner of the gallery busted through the door “well…. young passion, always a good feeling when you just can’t wait till you can get home and enjoy each other but please do whatever you were going to do away from the art pieces, we wouldn’t want another incident like the party we threw back in 75”

Harry gave Jeannie a cheeky smile while the only thing Lavignia could feel was shame, absolut and complete shame. Opening her mouth to defend the situation she found herself in: 

“But we weren’t going to…”

“Lavignia you know I’m the biggest and most precious work of art from our little gallery” Harry said at the same time she was trying to come up with any excuse, looking at her while getting up and offering his hand.

“Oh Harry if I was 30 years younger you wouldn’t scape me” Jeannie answered. Today she was using a elegant bright red dress and a scarf around her head and by the smile on her face, Lav understood what they were trying to do: they wanted her to feel comfortable so they were joking to show her there was no problem in whatever they were doing.

“Now, enough talking we have two pieces to figure it out today and Harry where the fuck is the Semmel?” Lovelace said taking her heels off and started to walk around, checking everything they had already done. There was still 3 pieces for them to figure out how they would showcase. 

.

They were all sitting on the bench Harry dragged to the middle of the room, with watchful eyes resting on Lavignia that was right in the middle of two art pieces. They all were waiting for her to begin her explanation: 

“So, if you look at my right, we have the famous Correggio painting: Jupiter and Io, dated back 1530. So, we all know the Romans saw Jupiter as the equivalent of the Greek god Zeus. According to the tale, he was attracted to everything that was beautiful, especially Io, she was one of Hera’s priestess. Jupiter was always tempted by others beauty and would disguise himself to be closer to them. In the case of the Correggio” she said posting towards the bluish god that was encasing the woman in a sensual way “he took the form of a velvet fog to reach for Io” pointing through naked woman encased by the fog, she took a break, waiting to see if they wanted to add something but Jeannie just gave her a small smile, telling her to continue: “it’s from the Italian renaissance, as we all know and the technique is oil on canvas, it’s height is around 5’4 and is has been in the Austria museum since the XVI century” 

Harry raised his hand not wanting to disrupt her talking, he was quite fond of the way she lost all of her shyness and insecurities when it comes to art. When she was done she looked at Harry when he raised from his sitting position to get closer to the painting: 

“If we look next to her face, we can see a face form itself on the fog, that’s Jupiter, right? He is there taking her pleasure as his own and giving his pleasure to her as her own. It’s a mutual feeling, she isn’t dreaming about the fog, he is there. This is such an erotic turn, showing us this woman being involved with this fog, her face looks like she was being pleasured. It’s about the feeling of letting go, she was letting herself being encased by this fog, encased by desire” turning his face to the redhead sitting close to Lovelace he asked “what do you think, Nessa?” 

Crossing her long legs that were covered by a letter flared jumpsuit she stayed quiet, taking the pairing calmly. 

“I think I wanna hear about the Aphrodite before making a decision” 

Harry pinched Lavignia cheeks lightly as if saying: come on, we are waiting. 

Lavignia was looking at the piece. The three naked woman with no shame, laying together on top of the blue satin sheets: one was laying down with her hands above her head, the other was on her fours atop of the laying girl and the third was encasing the the same girl that has her eyes closed in delight. It was clear that she was the one they were intending to adore, she was Aphrodite. 

“Aphrodite is one of the famous goodness, she is the goodness of love and beauty, she was responsible for the perpetuation of life, pleasure and joy…” Lav lost her train of thoughts the moment she looked at Harry. 

He looked calm, standing so next to her, listening so attentive, as if every word that came from her mouth was precious to the subject. His eyes were extremely green thanks to the green and blue crochet vest he was wearing together with a high waisted jeans but everytime he raised his arms she could see a bit of his soft belly and what it seemed to be a butterfly tattoo. 

“Earth to Lavignia?” said the fant voice of Jeannie. Shaking her head a muttering a small ‘sorry’, she continued:

“Anyway, this illustration on paper was made for the Pierre Louys’s book, the artist is Maurice Ray, we don’t know the date but it’s from the 19th century, so it’s nearly not as old as the Correggio, so if we want to sort by date: we can’t. They are too far apart. We have to find the common ground beside both being created after myth. But we don’t have much on the creator of the illustration to help us built the story. It could be helpful” 

“You know” Harry started “it’s good when people don’t know the life of an artist. I mean, I don’t want people to read my poetry and think what inspired me. Like my “cherry” poem, and think “it’s about his last girlfriend who left his heart broken’, I want people to look at my art and take it as their own. The moment I give it to the world, it’s not mine anymore. Each person has their own claim for the piece, their own meaning, their own story. I look at those pieces and I don’t wanna know if the woman in Correggio was the one that got away, I wanna look and see what this makes me feel, how this tells me a story” 

Harry had a girlfriend who broke his heart? Does he always write from his own perspective? Where can she find one of his poems? She wants to know more about the boy who seemed to never look anything but a full rainbow with his colours and happiness. 

“So, we only have now to work with Sunlight to finish the preparations for the grant opening. Nessa is everything okay with the catering?” 

“Yes, I spoke to the cantina owner, you know, Angelo. He invited us to have dinner there today, so we can try everything he wants to bring” then opening her purse and getting a red notebook “I think we have everything covered: food, drinks, journalist to come, photographers, invitations has been send. I  think the only thing lacking is the Sunlight… Harry, where the fuck is the Sunlight?”

His eyes opened and he looked a little bit frightened at Vanessa: “shit, Nessa, don’t pull those eyes on me, I always get scared. I promise: it will be here, okay?” nervously he looked at both Jeannie and Vanessa, and then at Lavignia, in a suplic for a little help. 

“What time should we be at the cantina?” she changed the subject

“In a few hours, it’s only 2 pm now, maybe at 6, the music is going to start at 6 but we know nothing actually works on time here”

“Okay, so maybe let’s just revise everything? And maybe finally find the order we want to exhibit everything? Lav, do you have any idea?”

“I can only think the cliche: year and technique” 

“We have been here for the last four hours searching, reading, talking about those paintings. Can we do it tomorrow” Asked Nessa, raising her arms to stretch.

“Sure, how about you two go and write all that has been discussed today while me and Harry talk business in the office upstairs?” Lovelace said, taking Harry by the hand and leading him to the stairs that stood almost in a hidden part of the gallery.

When they were long gone, Vanessa questioned if she knew that they weren’t going talk business and when she didn’t respond, she continued:

“Harry ex-girlfriend cheated on him and then left with some french preppy guy saying he wasn’t the one because she could never deal with his ways. This was almost a year ago, he was pretty depressed, to be honest, cried a lot, never wanted to sleep alone” 

“Does he ever want to sleep alone?”

“You know, you are fast to judge people, when I think you are opening up to us... “ she stopped to get one of the posters for the gallery and pointed towards the front exit, needing help to put the poster in its place.

When Lavignia thought she wasn’t going to hear anymore of that, she finally continued the talk: “he hates being alone. He practically moved to Lovelace’s house for the first month, was always listening to Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide, crying. Actually, I think during those first three months he only took one person to bed and he cried during it. He started to get better when he wrote his book, travelled all around Asia, he vanished for maybe 45 days. When he got back, he was him again. Maybe a better version of himself”

“Why are you telling me all of this, you don’t even know if I’m going to stay at the gallery or I’m gonna take the other job”

“You know… I can see in your eyes, the sparkle when you talk about those pieces, when you let yourself go. But then, it's like something turns it on in your brain, almost like it’s short circuiting, and then… you stop, you blush and you give us judgmental stares”

“You know, I can’t help it”

“I know” Nessa said with a faint smile “but we can help you”

.

They were all laughing over bottles of chardonnay and pasta, Lovelace was in the middle of telling one of her many stories about the roaring 30 and all that she done back in New York. They got there half an hour ago, the music crew were beginning to put all the instruments over the small stage. The cantina was only two blocs from the gallery. They were sitting outside, in a round table with red and white tablecloth, with fairy lights to illuminate the place, trees that gave the place a certain fairy look.

When they arrived, there was a petite black woman with a sundress and braids on her hair, she recognized to be Nessa’s fiance, but she couldn’t bring herself to remember her name, no matter how much she tried.

When they sat, she was in the middle of Jeannie and Harry. She could feel his arms brushing her back every time he talked. 

“Guarda se non sei la donna più bella di tutto il nord italia” said a tall man, he must be around his sixties. Very blue eyes, gray hair and charming smile. He had honeyd voice, and man, she really needs to improve her Italian if she wants to stay.

“Quindi mi ci abituo, Angelo. E come sempre: il cibo è delizioso.”

They continued to talk for a bit, Lavignia ended up losing the conversation, looking at the small stage, that now had a singer, maybe she was finally going to be introduced to some good italian song besides Volare.

“Perdona la mia mancanza di istruzione” he looked at Lav “sei nueva qui, guisto?  La tua nuova ragazza, Harry? Che bella”

“Nei miel più grandi sogni, forse” God, Harry’s voice sounded even more charming in italian “Lavignia è il nuovo impiegato della galleria. Ma penso she dovremmo parlare in inglese”

“I am so sorry, my dearest” he said with a very strong accent “ I didn’t knew you didn’t speak Italian. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Angelino and welcome to my humble restaurant”

“Thank you so much. I know a bit of Italian, but it’s the language I speak the least and with all the noise and people talking at the same time, it gets hard to understand”

In that moment, the song beguin to play “Our music guess is starting now, if you excuse me… Jeannie, mi concede questo ballo?” taking her hand he lead her to the dancefloor, followed by Nessa and Cathy, who she finally remembered the name.

“And then they were two” Harry whispered turning to her 

She took another bite of the pasta containing a moan while Harry finished his glass, getting another bottle and pouring  for both of them”

“It was my bad Italian or Jeannie and Mr. Charming over there were flirting?” Harry smirked with her statement:

“You are absolutely, right. They flirt all the fucking time. It’s cute but sometimes I just want to push them towards a bedroom with a very big bed and say they can only leave after they fucked their brains out”

The more they talked, the more Harry got closer. He asked about her life before Italy and she asked about his book. She told about how she was trapped with her parents even after she graduated, so she left. He told her about his traveling through Asia, the people he met, how he went to a David Bowie show in Japan, that each city he visited brought him back to himself. 

“You know, maybe...can I buy one of your books?” she asked, with a timid glint all over her eyes “I just want to know what type of art you write”

“Oh, my poetry is all about having sex and feeling sad”

“Well, I still want to. I might blush a lot and maybe won’t be able to look you in the eyes on the first few days, but then I’ll get over it”

“How about this, you dance with me and tomorrow I give you my book to read. Deal” 

“Deal” shaking hands then getting up towards the dancefloor. 

Putting both of his hands on her hips, Harry got closer. They could listen to the calming voice of the singer. Softly singin the chorus of the song, with his mouth close to her ear. 

Lavignia could smell his cologne and feel the heat from his body, almost like he was encasing her in a protection spell from the wind. 

“You seem to know the words to the song. Who is this guy?”

“Oh, he is Pino Daniele, right now he only performs at small bars, weddings. But all of his songs are so good, give him a few years and I’m sure he’ll be big, at least here in Italy. That’s for sure” 

After that they were quiet for a moment, she was trying to catch the words to the song. Feeling distracted by the environment they had: fairy lights, the jazz with a popish sound to it, people dancing without a care, everything so colorful. The heat of the summer night was disguised because of the slightly cold wind that came from being close to the beach. Harry cleaned his throat to get her attention:

“I need your help. The Joan Semmel painting is so hard for me to decipher and I think I know why, she painted from such a tender female point of view. And I know I could ask anyone to help me, but I love how in love with art you are. How you lose yourself describing and talking about the pieces” 

“Okay, I can help. But are you sure Jeannie and Nessa won’t be mad?” 

“I already talked to Jeannie and Nessa a little bit before we had to leave the gallery, actually” the slower song came to an end but they couldn’t let each other go. There was comfort in this embrace and light conversation. Almost like they had done this a thousand times before. 

“You could come by my place tomorrow. We can fix this, maybe I can read some of my poems, since you’re so curious” 

“Sure, what time?” 

“Around lunch? There is no hurry since it’s close to eight and I don’t think we’ll be going home anytime soon” 

She had a night full of dancing and wine ahead of her. She could only wonder what would happen tomorrow when the sun came out. 

Day 4: Office Love https://www.phillips.com/detail/A/NY040210/233

The sky was cloudy when Lavignia knocked on the mahogany door. The house from the outside was already beautiful, with vines all over the place, the orange color of the wall and big door. 

“Hey” Harry said while opening the door, dressed in just a satin robe “I was drawing, I lost track of time. Would you like to come in?” 

The door lead her to his living room, there was a big hello round couch, with red walls and a Indian tapestry. The red walls were full of art pieces - all of them pretty much leaning on the sensual side - the  three ceiling to floor windows gave a beautiful view of the street and grey sky. 

“Feel like you’re at your own home, okay? Please put your shoes over there” he said pointing towards a small cabinet “I’m just going to put on some clothes and I’m be back” 

With Harry upstairs, she was left alone to wander through the living room. There were magazines and vinyls all over the place as well as books about a few of the artists they were going to exhibit. He was doing his homework, apparently. 

But then something got hold of her attention: it was a black and white photograph. It seemed like it was an office, a typical American one. With two big windows and a rectangular desk but there, laying at the same desk, there was a barely dressed woman with her breast out and a man -completely dressed- devouring the woman’s chest. 

“Do you like the work of Helmut Newton?” She heard Harry’s voice just behind her, when she turned around there he was with a graphic white t shirt full of little watermelons drawings and jeans shorts. 

“You scared me, you walked down the stairs really quiet” 

“I wasn’t quiet, you were just really paying attention to the photograph. So do you like Helmuts job?” 

“I never heard of him ‘till today” 

“Well… he is a German photographer and is known for his studies of the female body. He worked a lot with Yves Saint Laurent and that was actually how I met him, I loved his fashions editorials of the brand. Then when I was at the fine arts museum in Boston last year, I saw this photograph. He was touring with his new exhibition when I bought this one. But it only arrived last month, when the tour was done” 

He was side by side with her, looking at the piece for a few seconds before continuing his explanation: “the name of this photograph is Office Love. When I had the chance to talk to him he said he wanted his photographs to arouse. And they do, because he so boldly explores his longings. But, in my personal opinion, what makes his art so sexy is his obvious belief that sex in the most important thing in the world” he looked at Lavignia “so, what do you think?” 

She looked at him with wide eyes and open mouth. 

“You don’t have to say anything to me, okay? But think about this painting when you’re alone. I lost the count of how many times I sat on this same couch looking at her and imaging it was me on the picture. Especially this week” did he said what she thinks he said? “Anyway, would you like to eat something before we start? I brought my book with me, thought we could eat a peanut butter sandwich and I’ll read something”. When she nodded, Harry took her hand and lead her towards the kitchen. 

.

His kitchen was all black and white: black and white tiled floor, black electrical appliance with white walls. Black table with white chairs. 

He made the sandwiches and got them a glass full of water. When they were halfway done, he got one his book and asked what type of poem she would like to hear. 

“Anything. Just want to get to know your art” 

“I’ll just open randomly then…” and when he did, his smile flared a little bit, maybe this poem represents a sad moment in his life. When she was close to telling him that there was no need for him to read if it hurted him, he cleared his throat and said: “this is The cherry sonet” 

Along with the cherry trees came hopeless sorrow

The cherry color reminds me that I’ll still hurt tomorrow

Dreams of you erupted in my waking 

My broken heart is still yours for the taking 

When you met him, did he called you ‘cherriè’?

When you kissed him, did you remembered me? 

And when you left me

Did you feel like you were finally free? 

But don’t you call him baby 

Don’t you dare 

To call him what you used to call me 

But don’t you call him baby 

Don’t you dare

To call him what you used to call him 

She felt tears in her eyes, that was the first time he was avoiding looking at her. Closing the book he gave her and whispered “it’s yours. Take care of it” 

“Harry, I’m so sorry. No one deserves to feel this heartbreak” 

“It was a long time ago. I don’t miss her, I don’t even love her anymore. But every time I remember what she done to me and how much pain I went through my hearts remembers the heartbreak.” 

“I understand if you don’t wanna talk about it, but, who was she?” 

“Her name doesn’t matter. She lived here for a while, I fell in love so deeply, I don’t think I was ever in love before her. It was like the world gained color and I didn’t have to be so lonely, anymore. I was still trying to figure it out where I stood in the world, and for that to work out, I tried to be the perfect match for her. I think i lost a bit of me when I lost her. But that was never truly me, you know” he paused to drink some water “ She didn’t like how I treated matters of privacy. She didn’t like the theme of the gallery and she didn’t like Lovelace either. Said she was a bad influence. So to prove her I could work with other themes, I made this work with a French gallery owner. She cheated on me with him.” 

“Harry… I don’t know what to say to you. I never fell in love and don’t even remember liking someone that liked me back, you know? I don’t know much about you, but I can see that you’re good and you don’t deserve any of that” 

He got her hand that was over the table and took in his. Not saying anything but it was like their conversation was happening without needing any words. 

“I think we need to work on the Semmel. Do you want me to bring here or would you mind if we go to my music room. I left it there” 

.

The music room consists of a place full of music instruments, more vinyls and more books. With pillows and tapestry all over the floor, there was no couch or chair. If you wanted to sit, you had to sit on the floor. On the far left of the room there was a painting with a purple bed sheet covering everything. 

“Ready?” He pulled the sheet and she was left marvelous. 

Joan Semmel is a New Yorker painter and writer. Most of her works are about the female point of view. But, even with the knowledge about the artist’s life, nothing could prepare Lav for the pairing ahead of her: it was a woman sitting down on her bed, relaxed and completely naked. She was touching her body and her body was golden from the sunlight. You couldn’t see her face, she was painting from her point of view. 

“You know I can write about any perspective but I’m having trouble with this one because it shows such a intimate view of the woman’s body. I called Lovelace to help me as soon as we got the thing but she said “darling I’m too old to remember the feeling of looking down at a younger version of my body” 

Lavignia couldn’t mutter a word, she was too much hypnotized by the work. And also jealous: she doesn’t know what it is to be naked on her own bed just taking in her own body. She didn’t knew that could be so much freedom when you’re “normal”. Because one thing is too see Bowie and Jagger preaching sexual freedom. She thought it was made for the ones that had an unusual life. But here she was meeting people that had no problem with showing themselves to her. 

“So, what do you think?” Harry asked her. 

“She has a classic technique of color mixing and…”

“Darling I know all of that part. I need your take about the painting, what’s the feeling behind that and what it compares to true life, and then, together, we can figure it out how to fit inside the theme, how to display it and finally decide the story we are going to tell with Love and Sex because, I’m sorry, my dove, but we have such an unique gallery and exhibit that I don’t want to waste it with cliche display options, I know we only have two days but if we think something NOW, we have tomorrow and the entire morning of saturday to fix it.”

It was too much. It was too much. It was too much. 

This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. 

So Lavignia almost screamed without having second thoughts: 

“That’s not right, I can’t go on and talk about that! She had her thoughts while doing this piece, but there must exist this lack of control when people make such works. Life HAS to have control, Harry. YES it’s a wonderful piece but I don’t feel anything while looking at it” 

“You’re lying. I can tell when you’re looking at me like that” Harry said with a sad yet  angry look upon his eyes “your problem is that you never let yourself lose control. You don’t think I notice... but I do. You give everyone the same staring eyes, judgmental eyes when you remember about your ‘lack of control’. When Jeannie asked us to give you a chance, I went with an open heart. I just undressed my soul to you while reading that poem, I thought you were different from her, she judged me and left me. And here you are judging me. How many days till you walk away from the gallery? When we are on the day of the opening and you leave us with all of the work it should be also yours? We are a family down at the gallery and you have no right to fuck that up with your precious control” his voice started to raise “but let me tell you one thing: one day you are going to have a cock so deep in you that you’ll feel it on your tummy, fingers messing with your button and a tongue down your throat and you’re going to find down there is more to life than your precious control” 

He turned his back and finally said: “Get out of my house, I’ll call Lovelace and ask her to fix the Semmel for me.  I don’t think I will go to the gallery until the opening, I can’t look at you when you’re looking at me like I’m sick. If you want to stay, we all are going to welcome you with open arms. If you still  want to learn how to let go of your prejudice like you said it to me yourself: I’m here. But as long as you are judging us and messing with people's hard work: I can’t look at you.” He gave her one final look and opened his mouth one last time: “do me a favor and only go Saturday if you are willing to try. If that’s not what you want it’s not fair to you to continue to suffer what our daily works entails. And it’s not fair to us to be kept on the fence if you’ll stay or not. And it’s not fair to me to be lead on and think I have a chance of  you being mine” 

And with that he left the room. Letting Lavinia alone with her own thoughts. She had to get of his house. She need to talk with someone. 

She needed Jeannie Lovelace. 

.

She knocked one time. 

Nothing.

Another.

Nothing.

One more time and Lavignia would go home and pack.

The door was opened. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Said Jeannie Lovelace. She was with a beautiful black silk skirt, barefoot and a simple white shirt: “I thought you and Harry were going to spend the day together. Come in, come in” 

She went inside still paralyzed. Jeannie lead her towards the nearest couch (the heart shaped one) and said: “Laviginia, do you want a hug?”

She hugged the old lady that smelled like lavender. She felt at home. She cried.

“What happened? Do I need to go and kill Harry?”

“I think I’m the one that needs the killing” and so she begging the story. From the time they met, to all the flirst, how Harry tried to help her to feel at home and more comfortable with her own skin and nature. Told about the flirting and the night before. And then… told her about what happened just a few minutes ago. When she was done, Jeannie looked at her and finally started to talk: 

“Lav, I don’t think he was right to say those things, but I don’t think you were right to judge so harshly. You know, we are what life made us” she paused “I can’t talk about you, I just met you. I hired you not only because of your knowledge and because we needed someone with your background, I could easily get somenome from Rome for that. But it was because I trust my instincts and it felt like there was a little fairy whispering to me ‘she’s the one you need’. I don’t know how much do you want to open up, but I’m here” 

Lavignia opened her mouth without even thinking “do you know why I was in Paris? Because after I graduated my father told me that now that I could say I was educated and fulfilled my ‘feminist dream’ I should go back to real life and marry. He wanted me to marry the neighbor, by the way. When I said no, he just told me to leave. I still had a bit of money and one of my classmates was French, so that’s where I went.” 

“You know, for someone that is so afraid of life, you are quite brave” 

“So I’ve been told” she paused “but… how will this fix the shit Ihave done to him?” 

“My darling, he is no stranger to heartbreak. He is a free spirit, yes, but he longs to have someone to be free with him. There was something about you that made him feel enchanted, the same way he was some time ago with that girl… but she wasn’t the one for him”

“But I have done the same thing: I was quick to me judgmental with him” 

“There is a huge quote by the one and only Anaïs Nin that goes like this: ‘You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken’. Do you understand that, darling?”

“I do. How do you remember so much of this big quote?”

“Because it was thanks to this book that I woke up. You see, my family had same expectations for me. But imagine that 40 years ago… women barely could go to university. It was - still is, sadly - a man’s world. But, day by day, we can get our space. And that’s in everything, including sex. Don’t be ashamed to own your power. Own your body. Give your life everything what it deserves. Think of you first. And… when you find out who you are and if that person wants people like us as your friends, will be here. If you want Harry to be with you, he will be. And he will take you on your craziest adventures because come on… he’s an aquarius” 

“I’m a Libra” 

“It’s a good match” Lovelace laughed “would you like some wine? I was about to drink some rosé?” 

One hour later they had bruschetta and one bottle of wine almost finished. She was listening to Lovelace talk about her adventures and, unlike last Monday, she was lovin’ it. That woman had such good stories. 

Maybe was the wine but Lavignia finally had the courage to ask: “Do you think Harry will forgive me?” 

“Darling, the moment you said yes to the wine, I know he will forgive you” 

“Why?”

“Because you stayed”

.

Day 5: sunlight 

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joan_Semmel#/media/File%3AThe_Jewish_Museum's_Wikipedia_Edit-a-Thon_20.jpg

Lavignia woke up with the rays of the sun hitting her face. She looked at the window and it was completely opened. Didn’t she close it last night? 

After all the drinking and talking with Jeannie, she called her a taxi so she didn’t have to ride the bus alone and slightly intoxicated. 

Looking at the clock she had beside the mattress on the floor - she really didn’t have time to make her complete move just yet so her small loft was quite simple: off white walls, a dresser, a kitchen, her mattress and a little door to the bathroom with a a bathtub. There were boxes all over the floor, the Sunday after the opening she would fix everything, maybe paint the walls and get a few posters: one of Stevie Nicks, one of Frida Khalo and one of Bridget Bardot: her most divine life examples. 

Looking at her door, she saw her blue knee high boots and her purse and inside her purse she could see just a little bit of the light pink and blue book cover. 

Maybe … she could? 

She really didn’t want to get up so she crawled towards her purse and got the book. She could imagine his reaction to her crawling for something of his. 

Back to her bed, Lavignia was lost looking at the book cover, trying to catch all of the details. One side was blue and the other pink. The front cover he had the name “Fine Line” and there was a drawing of him laying down, naked. But you couldn’t see nothing, just the contour lines. Nothing else. At the back of the book there was a simple quote: 

This is a story about my journey. 

The one where I found and lost love. 

But I found myself. 

Do you know who you are? 

As soon as the book was opened, Lavignia found the dedication, it was for his mother and Jeannie - who he calls his American mother. Then, there was a list of 15 poems and prose with the number of pages next to it: the cherry tree sonet, I saw an angel; from the hallway I write you this poem; don’t call me baby, again; the fruits of your body; the lights; golden as the sun; adoration; sex is medicine; summertime and butterflies; from Tokyo, with love; the little gallery. 

What was better? Reading the book from the beginning or do just like Harry did not even 24 hour ago and choose randomly. Lavignia went with the later. This time it was a little prose:

Adoration 

I like the love language our eyes share. When we are so together laying in bed with the sounds of the city having a conversation behind the windows. We are so close that I can feel our lashes touch. Do you know I adore you? 

There are words you can’t say yet. And I understand, darling. You don’t have to say you love me. But I have to tell you: I adore you. 

Please, let me adore you

I adore you 

I love you 

Reading this made her understand more about him. Lovelace wasn’t lying when she said Harry feels everything to its maximum. He was so pure when it comes to the matter of the heart. She felt so guilty for how she treated him. But she knows that at the time she was a different person than she is now, just a day later. All thanks to Jeannie and her Anaïs Nin quote. Wanting to read another, she opened the book in a random page, this time it was a poem: 

The fruits of your body 

From the tangerine smell of your body 

To the dreams I have of your lipstick 

It’s strawberry lick, isn’t?

From the way you hold my body 

To the way you make me love it

It’s sultriness, isn’t? 

From taste of watermelon 

That slips all the way down your legs 

I suck it all up. Don’t I? 

From the way you make me grow

To the way you make me shiver 

I’m at your feet

Yours. 

Yours while you’ll have me. 

Yours. 

As long as the fruit season lasts. 

I hope it lasts forever

The more she read, hotter she felt. It was never like this. She ripped her dress off. She ripped her underwear off. She wanted to get off. For the first time. 

But how? 

And then she remembered something a certain curly haired man with a mustache told her: “think about it when you’re alone”. 

That painting. That damn painting. All of the art pieces she looked this week. The smell of him. The way his body moved. The way he looked at her. She was on fire. The sunlight coming from the window ignited the fire on her body. She was finally on fire. 

Looking down at her body, knowing she was treasure map, ready to be discovered. So her journey begins:

A light touch to her neck, with the tip of her finger. The heat grows inside. Her breast so full of desire: she grabbed them. Massages them. Pinching each one of her nipples. Changed the pressure. Moaned and arched her body. She needed more but she didn’t want to stop her exploring, so she raised to her knees, getting one of her pillows. 

Right between her legs. With her hands getting acquainted with herself she rolled her hip and thought of green eyes watching her. Would he have a smile on his face? She hopes so. Because she is so fucking proud of herself. She was a queen in search of the pleasure she never had the right before. 

Her body. Her pleasure. Her orgasm. 

When she got tired from riding the pillow she laid down again. Her hands went to her heat. And she touched and touched and touched. 

And then… sunlight. She was covered in light. She was the sunlight. Her body reactions is like a morning light: beautiful and so unique. 

When she had finally calmed herself she looked around. And something just clicked. 

Getting up and taking a shower was the first thing she needed to do. Then… Lavignia would run as fast as she could to the gallery: she knew what to do about the opening. 

Day 6: perfume  https://fineartamerica.com/featured/perfume-1910-luigi-russolo.html

Lavignia was going to have a syncope. She was sure of it. The sun was finally setting but it was still hot. Hotter than ever. And if she didn’t hurry she was going to be late for the opening. 

The silk white dress Lovelace gave her was from her own wardrobe. “From my peach days” she called. The dress had thin straps and it reached mid thigh with a fringe assuming the rest of the outfit till it reached her ankle. It was a true fastidious dress from the 30s. And she felt in character. 

Just the day before Laviginia stayed back at the gallery till almost 3am together with Jeannie and Vanessa (and Cathy, she got there with dinner for them and stayed to help). 

It was hard but the moment she told her idea, Jeannie and Vanessa fell in love with it. It was original and so in touch with everything the gallery stood for. 

Sitting on the bus she looked at the the street. It was almost night time and people were starting to begin their Saturdays festivities. Lavignia felt her stomach turn and turn, the closer she got to the bus stop the more her nerves were making her crazy. 

She was going to do the presentation. Yes, that was Jeannie and/or Harry’s job. But well… it would be a miracle if he showed up today and Lovelace said it was all Lavignia, so she is the one that making all the talking. 

Getting out of the bus was easy. Finding her around the streets that lead to Mattina ed Estasi was easy. There was music and people talking loudly. From the window of an old building she could see the shadow of a couple making love. 

But the moment she saw the red Harley, nothing was easy. Her heart was beating fast. Harry was already there. He probably saw the way they fixed everything. Just the paintings with a small description to it. The order didn’t offer any technical logic. Maybe he was mad. Maybe he was curious. Maybe he was just as anxious as she. 

But Lavignia knew she wouldn’t get her answer if she just stood there. She had to walk through those doors and face everything. 

She was ready. 

.

The moment she was inside the gallery she felt so proud of herself. Looking at all the pieces circling the space. Forming a cycle. A love and sex cycle. And four of those pieces where on the center stage: first is Sunlight, followed by Correggio and the Aphrodite, the gods and goodness deserved to be together. And, finally, the one she was so afraid on her second day of work but became one of Lav’s favorite art pieces to ever exist: the women with the black stockings. 

When she dressed today, she was inspired by the painting. But, instead of black, it was white. White lace and see through lingerie her friend from France gave her but she never had the courage to wear - till today - with white stocking. A little innocent gif, if Harry was willing to open when the night is over. 

And by the way… where is Harry? The opening was only for another hour and she knows she was the last one here. 

“Oh, you’re finally here. Good” she heard Nessa’s low voice. Dressed in a black glittery jumpsuit with wide legs and a heart shaped cut in the chest area. Looking like the disco goodness she was “Lovelace was getting worried. You look beautiful, by the way” giving her a small kiss on the cheek she continued “I have to go and see if all of the catering is ready but Lovelace and Harry are upstarts. Any second now… okay?” 

And she was alone again. But not for long. 

She could smell him before she could actually see him. The same vanilla and tobacco. But if Lavignia thought she was feeling a little bit woozy with his smell. Nothing could prepare her for the outfit he choose: white trousers and tank top with a white blazer. Something John Travolta would wear. He had a bit of scruff but his mustache was still the first thing she noticed in his face, together with the pink sunglasses. 

Harry was looking at her, frozen at the top of the copper stairs.  

“We match” she said about the all white assembly they both were wearing. 

“You came” 

And he gave her a small smile. Maybe not everything was lost. 

.

Even with their little exchange, Harry hasn’t talked to her. The opening was keeping everybody busy. There was photographers and journalist to entertain. A lot of people from the villa, too. 

From the corner of her eye, she could see Jeannie in her bright pink spaghetti dress talking to Angelino. He was wearing a blue velvet suit. They fitted together. 

The clock read 8:47 pm, more 13 minutes and she would go to the little stage and do the presentation. She was nervous. Lavignia was in need of a drink. 

As if he heard her thoughts, Harry got closer to her for the first time in the evening with a champagne glass:

“You look nervous. Everything is perfect, you can relax” he said, with a faint smile. Up close she could see the birds tattooed in his chest “and don’t you look quite dazzling tonight” 

“Thanks. You look quite handsome yourself” accepting the glass and taking a big gulp, her shoulders finally relaxing a bit “I’m nervous about the presentation” 

“Don’t be. Lovelace always dazzles everyone. And I’m quite curious to find out why she chose this order to present the works” 

He didn’t know. 

“She didn’t. I did. And I’m doing the presentation. I’m so nervous” Harry looked at her with shocked eyes. Then he looked around. Then back at her, finally taking his glasses off and looking right inside her eyes: 

“Then can you help me make sense of everything?”

“I think I’ll let you find out with the rest of the people here” 

“Why are you teasing me so much? I wouldn’t do that” 

“No, you would do worse” she looked at him with a glint inside the honey color of her eyes “actually, I think you will do worse to me, one way or another” 

“Depends, if you’re a good girl then it won’t exist any teasing. So come on… enlighten me. Tell me why everything is organized like this” 

“It’s a story. And that’s everything I’m gonna tell you right now” even with their light conversation, Lavignia felt like there was an elephant in the room, so she finally decided to talk about it “can we talk? You know… about what happened?” 

“After this, maybe?” 

“Why aren’t you upset with me? I thought I would have to get on my knees and beg for you to talk to me today” 

“You stayed. The moment you decided to stay, I decided to give you a little bit of my heart. But after the presentation, we can steal a bottle of champagne and go to the office upstairs” he took the bit of her hair that was loose and fixed behind her ear “about getting on your knees: you still can, darling” smiling he gave her his own glass “and there is my favorite embarrassed little girl. Now drink, Jeannie is going to the stage right now,  your presentation will start soon. 

The anticipation she felt about the promise of an “later” with Harry was only bigger than the wheels that were turning inside her stomach. Lovelace was getting up on the stage, god she was going to die. 

“Ladies, gentlemen and everything that is in between, good night and welcome to our new exhibition: Love and Sex” people were clapping and shouting “Before telling the story behind those pieces, I wanna thank Angelino, from Villaggio dell’amore, for making such a delicious dinner for us. Also I would like to thank Vanessa, she works for the gallery since 1975 and since she got here, we only got better the same goes to Harry “she said posting her glass towards Nessa then Harry “you not only came here and invested in our little gallery but you gave us so much more, most of the pieces from today wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You had this idea and with our little help, we created this magic. So thank you” he raised his glass and say something in Italian that she couldn’t quite pinpoint with all the clapping. 

“Now, not long ago our family got a new member. She came here with her doubts but the moment she allowed the pleasure behind the art envolve her completely, she changed this exhibit for the better and today she’s going to be the one to talk to you. Graduated in Arts in Communication and my new adoptive daughter: Lavignia” 

Harry gave her a small pat on the but like saying “you’re up”. 

When Lavignia climbed the three steps to the little stage, she could feel like she was shaking. When she hugged Lovelace, she was shaking. The moment she saw all of those people faces, she was shaking. But when she saw his smile, she wasn’t shaking. He gave her peace of mind. 

“Thank you, Jeannie, for the lovely introduction” he gave her a not “Welcome to Love and Sex, today, we are going to tell you a little story” 

“From the start of the day, we have this huge Sunlight, a piece from Joan Semmel. Sunlight here isn’t only the signal of a new day that begins. When we talk about Love and Sex, we also talk about the discover of yourself. Know your pleasure, own your pleasure. Make love to your own body. You will never get the meaning of true love or sex, unless you become acquainted with yourself. Inside out. That’s what Sunlight is about: is the vision of the artist upon her own body. When she loves what she see and knows each part of her; what makes her quiver and long. When she makes her own body shake with love and sex is when she is ready to discover the world. Because the moment you understand yourself, you can understand others without any prejudice or pride. The moment you allow yourself is when you can finally deliver yourself to the fogs of pleasure, so well represented by Correggio’s Jupiter. Because here Jupiter is desire, is temptation, it’s the deliver. It’s when you embrace the feeling of bliss. That’s actually why we put gods and goodness together, because when you look at Aphrodite, you want to be inside the piece, you want to be this woman that not only represents beauty but also love. It’s when the pleasure you search it’s at its peak. Orgasm. High. Whatever word you might want to call it” 

Harry was looking at her with attentive eyes. A proud smile. A promise of an later. Everything about the way he looked at her made her feel anything but ashamed for the things she was saying. She had a speech prepared. But she remembers nothing of it because the moment she was on stage nothing else mattered beside her feelings towards the pieces, at the end everything is about feelings. 

“And then, we finally have The woman with the black stockings; because sometimes you have the chance to find people whose intensity matches yours and you just want that person. You dream and you desire, because now, sex is not only sex but is also love. You fuck at 10 am but have slow sex in the evening. Whatever this person wants, is theirs. You are opening yourself. Not only literally but metaphorically, as well. And you can only hope this person doesn’t get scared only because you’re so open” 

The whole moment she was talking, people were walking around the artworks. But now, they were all looking at her. Now was the time to close her explanation and kiss her man, the same man that was so attentively looking at her and helping her since the first day. 

“If love is a prose, sex is poetry. From all the artworks I just told you all about it, they all share the same theme but are shown in a different way. From the fog that encapsulates the young woman in Jupiter to the woman with her open legs showing to her lover that everything that is hers is also his. Giving him the privilege to see her in such a tender yet sensual way. Because love and sex are privileges. You can have one without the other, but together they are powerful. Is a privilege because you can’t find that in others so easily. The ones that can see what pleasure is all about, that there is no shame in longing, in wanting, in quivering for someone but also recognize than when you do it all of this with love: Is irreplaceable”

Looking around she saw people with tears in their eyes. Lavignia was so proud of herself. 

“Is a privilege because not everybody can find that. A few people spend all of their lives without knowing the true pleasures of the flesh and others spend their lives wanting to be loved, waiting for someone to fit inside of them just like a puzzle. But, sometimes, all you need is you. The world is quite boring but some people know how to make it colorful, just like those artist that shows us the most inherent sentiment of the human race with the most primal desire of the human race. 

This, is love and sex. Enjoy your night. Thank you.” 

Lavignia could hear the applause. Lovelace went to give her a kiss on the cheek, Nessa and Cathy were hugging her, welcoming her to the family. Journalist wanted to talk to to her. She could see cameras flashing and unknown faces congratulating her. But her focus was in looking for him, and she found him: at the top of the stairs, with a bottle on his hand, he gave her a nod, pointing toward the office door. Lovelace, that was standing right beside her told her to go. 

.

The office had baby blue and white walls. That was the first thing she noticed. There was a bathroom and a big window showing the hot Italian summer night. In the middle of the room was a desk and sitting on that same desk, there was a man picking at his nails with a champagne bottle next to him. When he heard the door, he gave her a smile and stood up. 

“I thought you were going to ditch me” 

“No. Just had a lot of people wanting to talk. Sorry” 

“Nothing to be sorry for” he took a step closer to her “can I just start by saying how I’m so fucking proud of you? You gave such a nice speech and you made the theme so much better than what we initially thought. Cheers to that” he gave her a small smile and the bottle. Taking from his hands and drinking a big gulp, the sweet taste of the champagne that had notes of cherry filled her tastes buds. She gave him the bottle back so he could drink and asked him: 

“What was the message you took from everything?” 

“That love and sex is to let yourself go. As you said, it’s a privilege… and what a nice privilege” they were standing in the middle of the room, the sound of the party downstairs was nothing compared to the silent conversation that was happening behind every word they exchanged. 

Harry thought Lavignia looked beautiful with the lights from the night sky illuminating her beautiful face. It was only then and the moon. Their only witness was the moon. He wanted to get a paper and write everything he was thinking. Maybe he would named Her and the moon and would say something among the lines: even the moon takes chances in betting that our love begins tonight. Strong or weak. Happy or sad. 

But they still had so much to talk. So Harry decided to begin: “why were you so harsh to judge? Not only me but everybody here, actually” 

“I think I was intimidated by you. You came telling about your weekend and I could only think ‘he has done more in three days that I have done my entire life. And I don’t know I think when you mix that with the unknown, I ended up misjudging you. More than once. Even when you were always so open to me” she got the champagne, drinking some more “I’m so ashamed for how I treated everybody here. You and Nessa and even Lovelace that first night, drinking everything and passing out.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed, we are family here. And family forgives, right?” he pinched her nose “And yeah, I understand what you mean, we tend to fear the unknown. Were you really discussed by me? And the fact I like a little bit of everything?”

“I think I was jealous,actually.  And I hated myself for the feeling you gave me since last Monday when I saw you walk through the door. But I don’t think I was actually discussed, you know? Not at you, at least. Maybe at myself. It was hard to understand all the feelings I was having  and also understand that feeling all of this is okay” 

“I thought you were beautiful, you know? I was captivated by you since the first day. And we were always on and off during the week. There were days I thought you were finally understanding us and days I was sad because you looked at us as if we were monsters... exept when you start talking about art. That’s beautiful. You lose yourself in it.” 

She was so closer to him now, playing with his rings. Harry noticed little lines on her forehead, like she was thinking about something. 

��You seem like you want to ask me something”

“Do you still want to get to know me? Or have I missed my chance?” He laughed at that. 

“Of course I wanna get to know you.”

In that moment, both of them let go a relieved breath. It was crazy to think about how much could change in one week. Lavignia always thought you could only feel like she was feeling was you know someone for years, but sometimes you have the privilege. 

It was a brand new start, the Sunlight was a reborn for her. And now they were on the same page. They were both open. They both wanted a real chance. 

“Will you be patient with me?” She asked him 

“Always.”

“When are you going to kiss me?”

“When I’m finally inside of you”

“And when is that?”

“In a few hours from now, when the party has died down a little bit”

“I was thinking you were going to kiss me now.”

“Well... we can do other stuff, you know?”

“Like the painting at your house? It’s quite sensual” 

“Look at you. How do you managed to be able to talk like this in just two days”

“You can’t  see it because of the lack of light but I’m blushing right now but... you are right. I had to discover myself. Actually one of your poems helped me, and all of those paintings, they created a good picture in my head.”

“Are you saying you got off to one of my poems?”

She nodded her head. Affirmative. 

“Which one?”

“The one about the fruits”

“Fuck... you are making real hard for me not to kiss you right now”

“Why don’t you?”

“I’m going to. Just not now. If I’m going to kiss you I’m going to do it right. Laying on my bed, with me inside of you. But it doesn’t mean I can’t do something to help you. I can see you’re squishing your thighs.” getting closer to her, he looked right inside her eyes, making her feel dizzy. 

“Tell me, darling. Ever heard about voyeurism?” Harry asked with his deep voice just above a whisper.

She was feeling dizzy. His perfume was increasing all of her nerves. The smell of vanilla marking her melt while the notes of  tobacco was igniting a fire within herself she never felt before”

He got closer again and grabbed her hips “I’m not going to ask again... ever hear of voyeurism?” 

She nodded her head. A negative. 

“Well...it’s when you have satisfaction of watching people engage in sexual situations” he said in a low whisper close to her ear, she was shaking. Harry was walking her backwards till her back was against the desk “I would love to see you hump this pretty table till you get lost in the feeling of a delicious high. And then I’ll take your wet panties from you and put it on my front pocket, close to the part that is aching the most to get to know you” he raised her to sit on the desk, opening her legs in a position her clit was resting on the cold and hard surface “then we are going to mingle. People are going to come to you and talk about how good your speech was. Cathy and Nessa are going to want to take photographs. Poor them, little they know my little girl is without any underwear, wet and waiting for us to get home” he started to help her move her hips on the desk. The first few waves of pleasure passing through her body like little flicks of energy “and then I’ll take you home and fuck you properly for the first time in your life, would you like that, darling?” She nodded her head and he gave her a peck in one of her eyelids “good. But, for all of that to happen I need you to do me a favor and come” 

“Won’t people hear me?” 

“And what’s the matter of that. We are not working anymore. We are enjoying a very sensual party, just like everyone else. And I can promise what we are doing here... everybody down there had done at least two times worse” she was hypnotized by him and his damn perfume “fuck it, right?” 

Fuck it 

Lavignia felt her hips moving more and more. Her toes were turning inside her boots. Harry was whispering dirty nothings close to her ear, leaving light kisses across all of her neck and chest. Holding her tights open, helping her move, sometimes moving his hips closer to her just so she could feel the promise of later. 

Harry let go her trembling body so he could watch her. Taking two steps back he admired her, her body was moving like an erotic dance, one of the straps of her dress was falling of her shoulder, showing him a little bit of the left breast that was covered by the thin fabric of the bra. And then… that was when he saw it: the white stockings. 

“Aren’t you a work of art.. I wish I could paint you right now, make Shiele quiver with jealousy that he didn’t get to capture you” 

She could feel her orgasm approaching, the little flicks of pleasure growing stronger the harder she rolled her hips on the hardwood table. 

“When we get home, I’m going to spread you open, I’m going to kiss and lick every single part of you. I might have to sell my soul just to not come to soon because my body it’s so hot for you. So so hot. Come on, little darling. Come for me” 

And she came.

 Like an avalanche starting from between her legs and making her whole body treble, forming incoherent words and losing its strength. But before she could fall off the desk, his body was back, holding her close and telling her to breath. Taking care of her. 

When she came down completely of her high he took her panties off. She was wide eyes when he smelled and said to himself something among the lines of “delicious”. 

This was only the start of tonight.

.

The wind was hitting Lavignia in the face, getting closer to his neck. His Harley was running around the Italian streets. She no longer felt ashamed for the thoughts going round her head in comparison to their first ride together. 

After their little encounter at the office they went downstairs holding hands. Getting funny looks and a thumbs up from Nessa and Cathy and a smile from Lovelace. 

They danced with people, looked at all of the artwork together for the billionth time, Harry introduced her to a designer that was at the opening and a few other people. When they noticed it was close to 2 am and people were leaving. 

They stayed to help to dismount the stage and be sure nothing happened to the pieces but Lovelace told them to go home. 

So now it was 3 am and Lavignia was taking advantages of her position behind Harry to stuck her nose in his hair and take in his smell. Maybe she needed to see a doctor. She was addicted to his perfume. 

When they finally reached his place, Harry gave her his key to open a little gate so he could park the motorcycle. She noticed that he had a very yellow BMW. 

“Not that I don’t like the Harley but how come you never drive this beauty?” 

“The gallery is so close from my place that I don’t see a reason why. But, I’ll take you for a ride anyday. How ‘bout that?”

She nodded her head while still looking at the car but the moment Harry touched her back, indicating to go in through the backdoor, she stopped everything to follow him. 

They were back to the black and white kitchen. Harry took of his white blazer, now only with the white tank top and the trousers. She could finally see his tattoos now. The naked mermaid, the ship. Lavignia was so hypnotized by him that she didn’t move from the door. 

“See something that you like, darling?” He asked putting the pink glasses on the table together with his blazer. Lavignia didn’t answer anything, closing the door, she walked towards him. Taking off her shoes and putting her purse on the table as well. 

“Can I get you anything?” He asked “some wine” she hugged his middle and nodded her head in a negative “or maybe water? Something to eat?” She noticed his smirk, he was living to tease her, but it was a week long teasing “little darling, if you don’t say anything I’m just going to keep asking. Put those pretty red lips up to good use and tell me what you want” 

“You made me a promise early tonight…” 

“Hey, come on… to be shy on me now” he was so close, the heat of his body could be felt in her back, he was closer and closer till… oh, he was already hard? 

“You said you were going to kiss me…” 

“I was going to kiss when…” 

“You…” she could do it, she could say it “when you are finally inside of me” 

“That’s my girl, come up”

He lead her towards the stairs. Lavignia wanted to see every artwork he had around the house but she was too focused on him (and his damn perfume). Soon enough they were in front of a dark wood door. 

His room had light pink walls, tall floor to ceiling windows and in the middle of the room a huge bed with a canopy. He told her to feel comfortable and she went to sit on the bed with her feet barely touching the ground. 

“Don’t you look pristine sitting all straight and proper. You can get more comfortable darling, I swear the bed isn’t going to bite you” 

He was kneeling in front of her, with both arms at each side of her body. 

“Why are you on your knees?” 

“Because I’m going to pray”

“I didn’t know people prayed before having sex” she joked

“Darling you can’t be serious”  she laughed and he was stuck admiring her but then she stopped at looked at the painting he had on the wall 

“Is that the 1910 painting by Luigi Russollo?” 

“Yeah, I like the way he uses his synesthesia to make the most sensual paintings” he kissed her cheekbones and started making his way down her neck, using his hands to fiddle with her dress. But he wasn’t done yet, we wanted to make her blush a little more “so… can I begging my prayer?” 

When she nodded her head he attacked her left breast over the dress, she was lightly moaning and he was getting dizzy. She was the best type of drug, every little thing seemed to me a new feeling for her and he wanted to watch her while she discovered more and more of the pleasures of the flash. 

“It’s too hot” she said is a whisper 

“Can I take of your dress?” Giving him a small yes, she helped him take of her dress, now, only in her bras and white stocking. She looked like a goodness, deserving its place with next with the Aphrodite back in the gallery. 

Harry used his hands to make her lay and opened her legs. He they started to kiss her legs, going up to the inside of her thigh, when she could feel his breath, he went to her other leg and made the same path. 

When he felt like both of her legs were full of loving,  he kissed just above her little point of pleasure, just to see how she would react. She whispered a little “stay” and he couldn’t wait anymore, he has to pray, he couldn’t delay it anymore so he just gave a full lick from her opening to her mound. Playing with her labia but never touching her clit, he wanted her swollen for him. Anxious for his lips, longing for his cock. 

Using the tip of his fingers, he was playing with her opening, but never actually penetrating her. When he thought she was getting loud enough, he started to suck at her clit the same moment his middle finger entered her. Using a come here motion, he found the button inside of her. 

Lavignia felt like she was in heaven, she was being adored by this man’s mouth and hands. She wanted more, she needed more. Trying to move her hips towards his mouth to get an even better feeling. 

Normally, Harry would hold the person down, but Lavignia looked like an angel and she had such a sweet taste. He just couldn’t so he gave her everything he could and let her take anything she wanted from his mouth and fingers. 

It didn’t take long till she was a trembling mess. Her release was sweet like honey and the most enjoyable thing to watch. 

While she was calming down from her high, Harry got up and took of his shirt, he was sweating too much. Then he help her up the bed and started to kiss her eyelids and comp his finger through her hair. 

“Hi” she said 

“Hey” he gave her a peck on the tip of her nose “do you want anything? Maybe water?” 

“No” she used her leg to press the tent that was appearing in his crotch area “I want what you promised me”

“Are you sure? We can do it tomorrow, I don’t mind if you’re tired. You came pretty hard” 

“Please, I want to feel you” 

“Okay” 

He was hers. Anything she wanted, he would give to her. So, her wish was his command. He stood on his knees and opened his pants never taking his eyes off of her. 

Lavignia was feeling her body burn so much. She was close to the point of hyperventilating, the moment she saw his member spread free. 

“No underwear?” 

“It gets in the way” 

When they were both fully naked (with the exception of her white stocking, “this one stays” he told her) and he was on top of her, he took one of her hands and asked if she has done that before. 

“A few times, almost five years ago” 

“I’ll go slow. Please, hold my hand and tell me if it hurts too badly” 

When she nodded, Harry got hold of himself and started to massage her with it, her clit, her labia, trying to get himself wet with her moisture. That’s when he remembered “on that nightstand I have a lube, it’s water based and smells like orange. Would you mind if I used a bit on both of us? It might help to ease myself into you” 

“Sure” she said with har breath starting to pick up again. So Harry for the bottle and warned her it might be a bit cold. 

Using the gel with both of his fingers, he got in easy, making the same come here movements and sliding his finger out with a “pop” sound. 

When he went to pass on his own dick, she stopped him and with a shy voice asked if she could do it for him. And he said yes. 

So she used both of her hands to be able to get his entire shaft and massaged him, up and down, squeezing when she got to the base and using the top of her finger when it was the head, all following his instructions. 

“Stop” he told her “if you continue I’ll come before we even start and I don’t think I can’t handle anymore” 

So, they were back to the same position as before, he on top of her, both of her legs were intertwined with his, his left hand on her right hand and they mouths finally close to each other.

When he started to enter her, she felt a small burn. It wasnt bad, but she isn’t didn’t knew if it was good. He was slowly easing himself and after a while she decided that it was a good type of burn. 

When Harry was all the way in he finally said: “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” 

It was a weird first kiss, but it was perfect. He was inside of her in more ways than he could explain. People say that when you have sex, even if it’s a one night stand, your essence connects with person, and they were connecting in a way that it was rare in any galaxy. 

Then he started to move, painfully slow, they didn’t have anywhere to go, that was no reason to rush. 

“You know, it’s not going to be good for my ego if I come too soon” he told her 

“After a week of reading I was hope for you to blow my mind not to blow your shot too soon” 

“Heeeet, that’s mean” 

He was loving it, he was having sex with the most amazing girl and they were still able to have that banter he loved so much. God, he was going to fall in love with her. He could feel it. 

After that, they let their bodies to the talking. She was moaning and so was he. It was sweet. It was hot. It was everything love and sex is all about. 

When they were done, Harry got them water from the kitchen and a banana. Then she wanted to do it again, so they did it, this time against the bedpost. When they were done, they talked for hours, finally getting to know each other. They feel asleep the sun was already high in the sky and there wasn’t any worry  or shame for her neither any pain for him. They were cured and were ready to begin another journey, this time with one another, another day, another sunlight. 

Day 7: a balcony in Italy https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Paintings-Bedroom-Balcony-In-Italy/1131921/4490457/view

She woke up alone inside the bed, completely naked with the exception of the satin sheets. There was a single sunflower resting on top of the tiny desk next to the bed with a simple paper that read: 

Good morning, bunny 

Get out of the room and take a left. You will find a round wooden stairs that will lead you to the balcony. I’m waiting you for breakfast. 

Getting a purple robe that smelled just like Harry she went upstairs, finding a suspended garden with all types of flowers she could think. There was an old table  that looked from 1930, on top of the same table there was fruits and pancakes. The sunlight was shining from the big balcony, letting the Italian summer fill their lungs and eyes. 

She found Harry sitting  on one of the chairs, wearing a green and white striped shirt with washed blue jeans. She could see he had shaven because there was no scruff but his mustache was still there.  Just from looking at it she feels a chill running down from her back till it reaches her most private parts at the memory of the same mustache passing across all of her body in his always there teasing manner. 

Harry didn’t see Lav at first, but he did listened to her footsteps. Writing something in his journal, not touching his food. Waiting for her. 

“You know... how long are you planning on staring at me? Should I get naked to make it better for you?” He said with a smile on his face, finally looking at her with a shine inside his eyes. One that hasn’t left since they made up yesterday. 

“Sorry I didn’t...”

“Bunny you can stare at me all you want. But I bet you’re hungry, so why don’t you come here and eat with me?”

Lavignia started to walk towards Harry but he stopped her: 

“Naked” that made her pause all of her movements. “Take of your robe love, and come and sit on my lap. Let’s eat together, shall we? I wanna be close to you” Messing with her tangled curls she looked around and at the balcony: what if someone sees me? 

But it only took one look at Harry to know that there is no problem because even if someone sees them: fuck it, right? Isn’t that what she learned from this crazy week?

So she took off her robe, trying to look Harry in the eyes, no matter how much she wanted to look at the ground. Walking towards him, she won a beautiful smile as a present for her courage. 

Now, on his lap, with her back against his front, she relaxed. Maybe was his smell - the fant reminder of the perfume and sex - or the way he kissed the back of her neck and passed his hands through her hair. 

“So what do you want?  We have coffee,orange juice. Bread and eggs. Pancakes and fruits.” 

“Isn’t a bit late to be eating breakfast? It’s almost 3 pm” 

“I mean... we did go to bed almost 8 am. And I see there is nothing bad with having breakfast for lunch” 

With that Harry served her first (she wanted strawberries and pancakes) and then choose a slide of watermelon to start his meal - god knows how much they needed to eat after the night rolling around the bed. 

“How did you have the time to make such a big breakfast?” 

“Oh, I only made the pancakes” he said using his free hand to caress her right thigh “was planning on getting you breakfast in bed, and all of that. You know how smitten I am with you, bunny” he gave her a pitch on the cheek but continued talking: “But Lovelace sent this big breakfast as a thank you for the success that was the opening night yesterday. So I thought: change of plans. Organized everything here and left the note for you. But it didn’t take long because I don’t think I waited more than 20 minutes till you showed up using the robe even if I was very clear that you should come naked” he said giving her a funny look, pretending to be disappointed. 

“Well... I don’t see you being naked” 

“That can be arranged in 30 seconds, if you want” 

She laughed and they continued to eat, the only sounds they could listen was the birds and the faint radio from someone outside, playing a romantic yet cheesy Italian song none of them ever heard. 

Harry was using his free hand to tease her. Pressing his leg upon her mound. She was getting wet, feeling the heat of June so much hotter than actually way,  like she was inside a stove. 

“So, is here that you and your...” Lavignia was curious about his miscellany in bed, but she didn’t want him to feel mad or think she was jealous, she was just curious “guests “yeah, she choose the right word “here to refresh?” 

Harry laughed: “my guests never actually even been here or my bedroom” 

“Oh, so I’m different from all of them?” 

Harry turned her around on his lap,  with both of her legs each side of his waist. He took her head in both hands with a serious look: 

“From the moment I saw you I was captivated. When I noticed how different you were I was so afraid you wouldn’t give me a chance because I have had my fair share of broken heart: from being cheated on to people who just said I can’t imagine the father of my children dressing the way you do all of that hurts, you know? I always give everything of me to the world but I never see the return of something that could be meaningful. And I think you mean something. I know you for only a week but there is a piece of me that wants to get to know you, fuck, even if you didn’t wanted to try and open up for life I would still find a way to be in your life either way. There is something inside those honey colored eyes that made me get so lost inside of them that I started to talk so much nonsense the day we met” he shook his head in a sign of denial “ I know I am a bit out of the usual guy but the first thing you heard from me was about a three way I had just the weekend before, that is no way to met someone you would wanna take out on a date, right” 

“No. I was intimidated. I still am. There is so much I don’t know about the world and I only found out when I walked through that gallery door.” 

“I think we balance each other and I can’t wait to figure it out more of us. If you want” 

“I would like that” 

“So, can I take you out on a date?” 

“Isn’t this a date?” 

“No, I wanna proper wine and dine you. Maybe take you to the movies. Fleetwood Mac is coming to Rome next month, we can have a little weekend getaway together” 

“Okay. You can take me on a date” 

He kissed her with fire in his soul after this. He was so used to being used just for his body or people with the dream of being one of his muses. And now he finally had a chance to start something amazing with this shy girl who is thrust so much in him. 

“Good. Now that is settled, I wanna try something.” 

He raised her up to her feet, opening his pants just enough to free his semi erect cock: “come and sit on me” 

She looked at him with questioning in his eyes: “what about breakfast?” 

“We are going to eat breakfast, come on” and with that she carefully sat on him. Both of them growling. 

He took her plate and gave her a bite of the pancake. Everything seemed surreal for her: he was growing bigger inside of her and she was getting wetter. Every time she tried to move to get a bit of friction he would stop her. So there was only one thing for her to do: accept the food in her mouth and watch when he took bites of his watermelon looking at her. There was just something so erotic about everything. 

“You know” Lavignia said when they were done and Harry rested their plate on the table “you are stuffing me full both ways right now” with that joke they started to laugh together 

“One week ago you wouldn’t say this” Harry noted “I’m proud of you bunny. So proud that I’m going to give you a reward. 

She looked at him, questioning. But he just took his hand and tapped her lips saying: 

“Open up” she opened her mouth “tongue out” 

And he did what she wasn’t expecting but it wasn’t a surprise at all: he sucked her to the inside of his mouth. Using his right hand to pull her hair while the other was getting down her body. 

“Tastes just like strawberries, so fitting for this summer evening” He said before going in for more. 

They started to kiss and his fingers were playing lightly with her clit. Never giving the pleasure necessary but always there... remembering her of the feeling of him inside and outside of her. 

The more they kissed faster he would move his hand in her intimate parts while the other was manhandling her, with a strong grip on her hair, she couldn’t move. She was completely at his mercy. 

When they both couldn’t take it anymore, Harry got hold of her hips, lifting her up and slamming her down his body, sending sparks through both of their bodies. 

In that moment, she was stuck with the feeling of him he was the only thing that mattered. If someone could see them from the balcony: so be it. Even being on top, he was the one making her move. She couldn’t wait till the day she’d have the courage to be the one in charge. 

“I’m not gonna last long” said Harry “sorry” 

“It’s okay...” she said moaning. She was close to coming but from the sounds and the beating of Harry’s heart against her own: he was closer. Following her instinct she started to roll her hips every time he slammed her down, biting his neck and moaning in his ear: just for him. 

It didn’t take long till Harry’s movements got a bit out rhythm so she said: “fill me up, come on. I need to feel you, to see you” 

Harry was a goner. Closing his eyes and opening his mouth. He looked like an angel, if angels could be naughty as him. 

When he opened his eyes, there was this adoration inside the way he looked at her. It was so loving that Lavignia said a little “oh” when he simply got up with her on his lap,used his hand to get whatever was on his way and her threw her on the desk, in the middle of the food, books, flowers. 

He got down on his knees, looked at her through hooded eyes, mouth close to where she needed him the most and said: “second breakfast”

And third. 

And forth. 

The end

Oh, God, this was almost one moth of work and I’m so glad it all turned out just like I wanted, but first, i need to thank someone.

This fic exists thanks to the book “Woman, myth and godness”, it’s a book about the represetation of the woman inside arts, literature. It was how I found out about Sunlight, and fell in love with the concept.

And last but not least: I decided to use an OC because she had such a strong personality I needed to give her a name. If anyone is curious the faceclaim is a south american singer from the 70s called Gal Costa, so yaaay for poc charecter.

Anyway, I hope you guys like it!

[thisstableground]

Headcanons for kidsnavi and young nina? I've been reading lots of your fics and love their brother/sister dynamic!! (sorry if this has already been done before oops)

usnavi is probably around 16-17 months older than baby nina, and since his mother is best friends with camila and his father with kevin, it’s inevitable that she’s a big part of his life. 

 nina comes home from the hospital a fairly short time after her birth with her exhausted but delighted parents, healthy and quiet. usnavi, recently learned to run at high speeds before he’s even bothered attempting to walk, is hurtling happily around the rosarios’ living room while the adults talk about the new arrival, and is veering dangerously close with his drunken baby-running to tripping right into the carseat where nina is placidly observing the brand new world around her.  his mom says, “mind the baby, usnavi.”

“mind a bebé,” he says, and then noticing nina for the first time is so surprised he falls right off his feet, and scoots on his butt closer to the carseat to peek in cautiously. “oh! bebebé!” 

 he waves at her and says, “hi! hi!” she doesn’t wave back. she is, after all, less than a week old and so not particularly sociable yet, but she watches him with solemn fascination and if there’s one thing usnavi at this age loves, it’s having someone’s full and undivided attention on him. 

 he adores her immediately. he stops greeting camila and kevin at all, when they go round to visit, instead immediately demanding “my baby!” and trying to fling himself out of his mother’s arms to go hunting for nina if she isn’t in his line of sight. he does silly stompy dances in front of her to entertain her and when she is old enough to laugh usnavi is the first one to ever make her giggle. he chatters away to her in alternating spanish, english and baby-babble, but he’ll also sit as quietly and patiently as anyone has ever seen him when he’s holding her, his clumsy toddler hands careful when he’s feeding her her bottle, aggressively shushing anyone who talks when she’s asleep. 

 and nina, as a toddler when she develops awareness of these things, adores usnavi too. there is a period of a few years where she listens to absolutely everything he says and follows him everywhere she can, which is a source of terrible stress for everyone because usnavi is a sweet child but gets into a lot of mischief entirely by accident. but usnavi is basically her big brother, and so tiny nina wants to be just like him, and to learn everything from him.

 he teaches her the alphabet song and clapping games and all his favourite animal noises. when she gets shy in front of other people, it’s usnavi who she stands behind and hides her face in his shirt. its usnavi who she whispers to about all her deep and important four year old secrets. on her first day of kindergarten, they both walk to school together with their moms, and usnavi holds her hand and says, “its okay, don’t be scared.”

 nina learned to read at age three, long before she even started school. usnavi struggles far behind his grade on reading and writing, the gap only growing as he gets older, nina only overtaking further. at some point, it goes from her wanting to learn everything from him to him coming to her for academic advice, especially after he has a bad time in special education which makes him much less inclined to talk to adults about that kind of thing. sometimes he feels stupid next to her, but nina herself never treats him like he’s stupid and gets very heated when he implies that he is. 

 nina is a quiet, nervous, overly-mature for her age child, usnavi is loud and hyperactive and seems much younger than he is. when they get a little older, they start joking that even though she’s younger, usnavi is nina’s little brother. he makes her laugh and looks out for her and draws her out of being too self-serious so that she remembers to have fun. she gives him advice and listens to him patiently and encourages him to think a little more about things. 

 the one “fight” that nina ever gets into in elementary school is when someone trips usnavi on purpose in front of her at recess. she yells at the kid and pushes him over, which is so wildly uncharacteristic of her but she does it without even thinking about it then immediately has an entire panic attack because she’s going to be in So Much Trouble, but she also refuses to say sorry. of the several fights that usnavi gets into when he goes through a bit of a scrappy phase between age 6-8, three of them are in defense of nina. 

 usnavi, even when they’re into their teens, is the only boy that kevin allows to have sleepovers with nina. they’re just so clearly siblings that there’s never been any worry of anything untoward happening. there are many weekends that both of them stay at abuela’s and curl up in her bed with her, and spend all of saturday morning in their pajamas together, and go for walks holding one of abuela’s hands each. they make her shared hand-drawn birthday cards signed by both of them. 

 usnavi’s best friend is benny, of course. but in high school it’s nina that he goes to when he needs someone who will sit and listen quietly when he talks about how sometimes he feels like his head is just ready to explode with how much overthinking he’s doing and how he sometimes feels like his heart is trying to claw out of his chest with stress over the smallest things, and she nods and says “i understand” and he knows she does. 

 nina’s best friend is vanessa, of course. but out of her friends it’s usnavi who she first tells that she’s pansexual, and he nods and says “oh, that’s cool” and then hugs her when she bursts into relieved tears, and promises not to tell her parents or anyone else, not even benny, and even though he’s a blabbermouth about most things she knows he never, ever will, and when it’s just the two of them she talks to him about girls she likes and he never treats it like anything other than totally normal. ( he later turns out to be bi, which might explain it, but at the time they don’t know that, and either way it helps her immensely to know she’s still accepted)

neither of them, at any point in their relationships with each other’s respective best friends, feels the need to do an “if you hurt them” conversation. who would they trust more than each other?

 nina, even though her parents told her that she should go home and rest and they’d stay with usnavi, sits in the waiting room of the hospital for a full day until, several hours after his wife is already gone, mateo de la vega flatlines too, and she watches her dad catch usnavi when he collapses. she holds usnavi’s hand silently in the car the whole way home. 

 usnavi, the day before nina goes back to stanford to retake her failed first year, stands with her on her fire escape and says, “nina, you could come back next week and say you changed your mind again, or they kicked you out, or you forgot how to read, and i still ain’t ever gonna be disappointed in you.” she doesn’t need to ask how he knew exactly what she was thinking without her saying a word. 

 in short: they are Siblings who Love and Support Each Other unconditionally.

[lilfellasblog]

The Only One - A Virgil H/C Tumblr Ask

Summary: Virgil has a secret that the Light Sides and Thomas are completely unaware of, but the Dark Sides unfortunately aren’t. The Dark Sides are spending more and more time in the main area of the Mindscape now that Thomas and the Light Sides are trying to accept them as part of the famILY. What does this mean for Virgil?

This is an ask that Tumblr ate, so to the anon that requested it, I’m so sorry if you’re only seeing this now!! I actually really enjoyed writing this!!

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience. Tumblr ate most of my fics that I know I posted here, which makes me very sad for a lot of reasons, one of the biggest being that the love and comments and tags that folks showed this fic is gone into the ether. I’ll be making a masterlist to help prevent this from happening again.

TW: Trans guy Virgil, gender dysphoria, transphobia, deadnaming (kind of), misgendering, minor physical violence, blood, knives, Unsympathetic Deceit, Unsympathetic Remus, bullying, harrassment, forced undressing, crying, angst w/ a happy ending.

Word Count: 3367

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Virgil curled his hands in the thick quilt on his bed. He’d encountered Deceit and Remus of all Sides that day and had hid in his room ever since. He couldn’t even be bothered to replace his shirt; he’d just thrown the tattered remains on the floor and crawled under the covers in shock, trembling with silent tears going down his face.

“Kiddo! Dinner’s ready!”

Virgil swallowed, trying to get past the lump in his throat. “Sorry Pat, I’m not feeling well,” he called back, voice gravelly.

Patton spoke more softly this time. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry to hear that! Do you want me to bring you some soup or water?”

Despite his trauma, he smiled through his tears. He’s too good for me. “No thanks Pat, I think I just want to sleep right now.”

“Okay! Let me know if there’s anything I can do!”

“Will do.”

Virgil heard Patton move away from the door, and he sighed.

I should probably clean up the wounds. Don’t want them to get infected.

Virgil shakily stood and walked over to his bathroom. He winced. This is bad. This has to be one of the worst times. Thin cuts marred his skin where Deceit and Remus had used a knife to cut his shirt off. Thin lines of blood trailed down from each wound. Virgil sighed and went about disinfecting them.

You know they’ve been more active in the main Mindscape, you know they’d see you wearing a binder. Why did you have to be so fucking stupid? You could have just worn your huge hoodie like you used to and it would have been fine. They already beat the shit out of you once you changed your voice in the Subconscious, did you really want another beating that badly?

Virgil bit his lip as a sob forced its way past the lump in his throat and more tears streamed down his face. Soon, he’d expertly cleaned and bandaged his wounds and he started working on cleaning the tear tracks and makeup from his face. He cursed the Dark Sides for knowing to aim for parts of his body that would be covered up by clothes; if he’d been unable to hide the bruises, he wouldn’t have a choice but to tell the Light Sides.

The Light Sides won’t believe you. What, the Dark Sides they’re working on accepting just so happen to be evil transphobes who hurt you? And you’re the only Dark Side who’s not an asshole? Give me a break.

Virgil bit back tears. He was tired of crying over the Dark Sides hurting him. And if he told the Light Sides, they’d start asking questions that he wasn’t ready to answer. It was bad enough that they’d “outed” him as a previous Dark Side, causing their loving, wonderful Host to look at him with disgust.

Virgil shook his head. Thinking about that isn’t helping me calm down. He splashed a bit of water on his face and finished cleaning off his makeup. He curled back up in bed, hissing through his teeth at the new injuries, and resigned himself to a night of restless sleep.

/////

Virgil decided against wearing his new shirt and hoodie, instead opting for his old black ensemble. He felt like crying without a binder, but he also didn’t want to lose another one to Deceit’s knife and he was pretty sure a couple of his ribs were cracked.

Virgil made his way downstairs for breakfast, miserable. He’d put on extra black eyeshadow to hide the bags under his eyes and hopefully to draw attention away from the fact that his eyes were slightly red.

He was shuffling into the kitchen when he froze. Deceit is here, why is he here, why is he here, why is he-

“How are you feeling kiddo?” Patton asked.

Virgil shrugged keeping eye contact with him and resolutely avoiding the other Dark Side. “Fine. Better.”

“That’s good! I thought that we should get to know the Dark Sides better, so I invited them over for breakfast! Although Remus didn’t show up, something about being on a ‘deodorant cleanse’?”

“Yes, Virgil, it’s so important to get to know each other better, don’t you think?” Deceit purred.

“I know you well enough!” Virgil spat back.

“Now Virgil, give him a chance,” Patton said, disapproval coloring his voice.

Deceit looked hurt. “Yes Virgil, why aren’t you giving me a chance? I’m trying here, and you’re just being mean.”

Dammit, Deceit can act well if he tries.

Deceit looked at Virgil with a sick smirk.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at Deceit. “Fuck. You.” and sank back into his room, his stomach cramping from hunger. He curled up on his bed and hugged his pillow, angry tears coming out this time.

I just wanted food! And now Patton thinks I’m an asshole! And the others will too! Fuck!

A few hours later, he couldn’t ignore the nausea anymore and decided to venture downstairs. He walked up to his door and pressed his ear against it, listening for any indication there were Sides walking around. Hearing nothing, he slowly opened his door and looked both direction.

Finally. I need-

“Doom and Gloom!”

Fuck.

Virgil turned his head and looked at Roman. He seemed excited about something or other.

“I have this wonderful new project! For Halloween! You’ll love it Virge!”

Deceit and Remus appeared behind Roman, smirking.

“Virgil? Who’s she, never heard of her,” Deceit sneered.

Roman jumped, but relaxed quickly. Virgil ground his teeth.

“I thought it was Veronica? Or no wait, Vanessa?”

Virgil glared at them. “That’s never been my name,” he growled.

“Oh, my mistake!” Deceit laughed, daintily putting a hand to his chest. He smiled. “Violet.”

“Hahaha! She’s a girl!” Remus shrieked, pointing at Virgil. Roman just looked confused.

Virgil held himself back and closed his eyes. He inhaled, opened his eyes, turned around, and walked downstairs. He heard Patton humming in the kitchen and smiled.

He entered the kitchen and opened the pantry to grab some cereal.

“Hey Virge!”

Virgil smiled at him and sent him a two-finger salute. Patton let him get milk in his cereal and start eating before he spoke up.

“Honey, I think we need to talk about what happened with Deceit this morning.”

Virgil’s stomach nearly revolted. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s no big deal. “Yeah? What about it?”

Patton sighed. “The way you spoke to Deceit… Is there something else going on?”

Virgil whipped his head towards the fatherly trait. He’d been expecting admonishment and chastising, a demand to go apologize to Deceit. Instead, Patton’s eyes were full of concern. “I… what?”

Patton tilted his head. “I know you have a longer history with the Dark Sides than we do, and it sounded like there were things that weren’t being said out loud.” At Virgil’s baffled expression, he continued. “You can trust me, sweetie. Is there something going on?”

Virgil stared at his cereal bowl, fighting back tears. He moved the cereal bits around with his spoon.

I can’t lie to Patton, he’s just trying to help.

Virgil decided to tell the truth. “I can’t say. I’m sorry.”

Patton sagged slightly at that. “Is Deceit stopping you?”

Virgil chewed on his lip. “No, it’s my own fucking fault.”

“Do you feel unsafe around us?”

Virgil jumped at the question. “No! I just,” Virgil’s voice choked off. “I can’t say,” he whispered brokenly.

“Oh sweetie, do you want a hug?” Patton asked.

“S-sorry, not right now.” The thought of Patton wrapping his arms around his body, especially without his binder, was too much.

“Okay baby, let me know. Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I’m sorry.” And with that Virgil broke. He dropped his spoon in his bowl and put his head in his hands, letting out the sobs he’d been holding in.

“Oh! Virgil, it’s okay! It’ll be okay!”

Virgil just shook his head.

“Would it be okay if I rubbed your back?”

Virgil nodded. He won’t be touching my front, that’s okay.

Patton immediately put a hand on Virgil’s back and began lovingly rubbing it.

“I w-want to s-s-say, but I c-c-can’t!!”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. It’ll be okay,” Patton soothed, confused but beginning to understand that something was going on between the Dark Sides and Virgil and it wasn’t anything good. For now, he focused on calming Virgil down enough so he could eat. Eventually, Virgil’s cries petered out.

Patton kept rubbing small circles into his kiddo’s back. “There you go. Feeling better?”

Virgil nodded and wiped his face on his sleeve. He smiled at Patton shyly. “Sorry ‘bout that. Just freaking out for no reason.”

Patton frowned. “It doesn’t sound like no reason.”

Virgil waved him off. “It’s fine Pat. I’m probably just hungry.”

Patton knew it wasn’t just hunger, but he also knew not to push the issue any more. He grabbed a bowl of cereal for himself and chatted with Virgil, trying to make him feel comfortable again. He was happy that by the end of the meal, Virgil was much more relaxed and didn’t seem like he was about to burst into tears. Virgil cleaned his dishes and and sent Patton a two-finger salute as he sank out. Patton let his face fall once Virgil was out of the kitchen. What is going on with my sweet boy?

/////

The Sides all rose up when Thomas summoned them for the next video. Virgil had his normal hoodie on and zipped up and prayed no one could tell that he wasn’t wearing a binder.

“Hey Virge! You cold?” Thomas asked.

Virgil nodded, Deceit giggling at the lie.

Thomas turned to the camera and started filming.

“What is up everybody?! Today, I’m dealing with an important topic: when to come out.”

Remus giggled. “Like Virgil! She-” Deceit elbowed him, cutting him off.

Thomas frowned in confusion at Remus. “I mean, yeah, he told me he was a Dark Side, and that’s what I wanted to address this video.”

Deceit summoned a bowl of popcorn and crunched loudly, making sure Virgil saw the shit-eating grin on his face. Remus just snacked on deodorant.

Virgil paled and felt cold all over. His heart was pounding and there was a lump in his throat. Thomas turned to him.

“Virgil, I… I just wanted to say that I was surprised, and I still love you. I don’t care that you were a Dark Side before. You’re working with me now, and with the others, and who you are now matters way more than who you thought you had to be in the past.”

Virgil was shocked. He felt tears springing to his eyes. “You… you really mean that?” he whispered, incredulous.

Thomas smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

Virgil sagged in relief and smiled, a single tear running down his cheek.

“That’s totally how I expected that was going to go,” Deceit complained.

Remus just threw his deodorant on the ground in frustration.

Thomas ignored them. “Do you want a hug Virge?”

Before Virgil could panic and make up an excuse, Remus started shrieking with laughter. “She can’t! Then you’ll feel her tits!”

Virgil felt all of the blood leave his body.

Thomas just tilted his head in confusion at Remus. “What?” He looked at Virgil. “Virge? What’s going on?”

Virgil started backing into the wall and hyperventilating, new kinds of tears making their way down his face.

He knows, he knows, he just got over me keeping one big secret from him, this is a coming out video, he’s going to find out, he’s going to hate me, they’re all going to hate me, they’re going to send me back to the Dark Side, he hates me, they hate me…

“Come now Virgil,” Deceit purred. Virgil jumped when he and Remus appeared in front of him on the landing. “Let’s be fully honest with our Host, that’s what he would want, isn’t that right?”

Remus and Deceit grabbed Virgil and started pulling down the zipper. He cried out and thrashed in their hold until they were pulled away. He didn’t notice who helped him, he just collapsed on the landing and curled into a defensive ball in the corner, shaking like a leaf and hyperventilating.

“Virgil? Can you hear me?”

Virgil flinched and whined at the proximity of Logan’s voice.

“I can’t, I don’t want to, please don’t make me, don’t hurt me, please…” he whimpered.

Everyone’s hearts shattered.

Patton came up to the landing and leaned against the steps. “It’s okay sweetie, no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. No one’s going to force you to do anything. Can you try to breathe with me baby?”

Virgil let out another cry but nodded. Patton counted with him, occasionally glancing back at the Dark Sides. Roman had the Dark Sides cornered, sword pointed directly at them, making sure they wouldn’t hurt Virgil. After almost twenty rounds of breathing exercises, Virgil’s muscles began to relax from the cramped position they were in.

Thomas knelt in front of the stairs. “Virge?” he began cautiously. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Virgil’s breath hitched. “I’m sorry Thomas.”

“Buddy, no! You got attacked and got scared.”

Deceit laughed. “That’s not all Thomas! Go on, tell our Host what else you’ve been lying about!”

Thomas frowned at Deceit and looked back at Virgil. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. This… God, this has to be the worst time to be making a coming out video. Are you hurt at all?”

Remus laughed. “Awwwww, is the little girl hurt?”

“SILENCE!!” Roman roared.

Virgil flinched, staring at the Dark Sides with wide eyes.

“Virgil, hey look at me,” Thomas called softly. Virgil turned wide eyes to Thomas, the Host almost breaking at the tears he saw. “It’s okay buddy.”

Remus wasn’t done. “Take off her shirt!!”

Roman took a step towards them. “SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL RUN YOU THROUGH!!”

There must have been something in Roman’s expression, because the jeers stopped.

“Honey-” Patton began. He was cut off with a sharp inhale from Virgil as he laid a hand on the anxious Side’s back. He quickly withdrew his hand.

“I’m sorry baby! Are you hurt?”

Virgil sniffled. “N-not too bad.”

Thomas’ face twisted in anger, and the two Dark Sides sank out. Roman sheathed his sword after a moment and walked over to the stairs, worried about his anxious friend.

Logan spoke up. “Virgil, may I look at your wounds?”

“No!” he yelled, curling up defensively and hugging his hoodie closer to himself.

“I will respect your choices Virgil. However, I believe that it would be in your best interest to allow me to assess your injuries to ensure nothing else is going on and to help prevent infection.”

Virgil shook his head. “They’ve done worse, this is nothing, I’ll be fine.”

“They’ve done this before?!” Roman growled.

Virgil curled in on himself and nodded.

Patton shifted a little closer. “How have they hurt you in the past?”

Virgil’s breath hitched. “Th-they’ve beat the shit out of me when I changed my voice. I u-used to have a higher pitched voice and I didn’t like it. And when I changed how I dressed they beat me up for that too.”

“Oh Virge,” Patton breathed. “Do you know why they did it?”

“B-because…” Dammit, I’ve really got to say it, don’t I? “I-I’m a trans guy.” Once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “The D-Dark Sides h-hated me for it, s-said I w-w-was a girl, but I’m not! I swear I didn’t l-lie to you T-Thomas!! I just, w-with how you’d t-taken the news of me being o-one of them in the p-p-past, I was scared you’d m-m-make me go b-back to them and I c-c-can’t…” Virgil dissolved into tears, unable to form any more sentences.

Thomas jumped forward and hugged Virgil close to him. Virgil curled into his Host and cried.

“God, Virge, I’m so sorry. I’d never hate you for being trans! Whatever I did to make you think that, I’m so sorry. And if they’re hurting you, I’d never want you in that position.”

Thomas held Virgil until his cries petered out.

They deserve to know. “Th-they’d cut off m-my clothes.”

Thomas froze and tightened his arms.

“They what.” Patton said, voice flat with blinding fury.

“Th-they w-wouldn’t go farther th-than that!” Virgil added quickly. “They’d j-j-just cut off m-my clothes t-to try to p-prove I’m a girl. Th-that’s why I’m n-not w-wearing a b-b-binder today. Th-they cut up my l-last one with a knife a-and hurt m-my ribs.”

“Oh baby…”

Logan adjusted his necktie nervously. “I… Virgil, I am so sorry they hurt you. I believe I understand another reason you don’t want me to look at your injuries. May I ask you some questions instead?”

Virgil bit his lip and nodded, still curled against Thomas.

“Does it hurt to breathe?”

Virgil nodded, and Thomas loosened his grip slightly.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad is your pain when you breathe?”

“Um, like a 5? It’s not too bad.”

“I am glad to hear that. Are you experiencing any difficulty breathing?”

“Not really, no?”

“Alright. Let me know if you do. Would you consent to stay with one of us for a few nights until we’re certain there aren’t any other ill-effects?”

“Y-you don’t mind?”

Roman frowned and tilted his head. “Why would we mind?”

“…I dunno.”

Logan sighed. “We want to help you Virgil. Please tell us what is bothering you.”

Virgil hid his face in Thomas’ chest, muffling his words. “They s-said I was gross.”

Roman actually snarled while Patton gasped and Logan and Thomas’ faces hardened.

Thomas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them and kissed the top of Virgil’s head as he held the trembling man.

“You’re not gross Virge.”

“Y-you’re just saying that.”

Logan hesitantly placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Virgil, I am not one to mince feelings.” Virgil huffed a laugh at that. “You are objectively not “gross.” Remus and Deceit are wrong.”

Virgil lifted his head and looked at Logan. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Virgil relaxed against Thomas. “Can I… Can I wear my old stuff until my ribs heal? That hoodie’s bigger, it helps with… yeah.”

“Of course you can kiddo!” Patton rushed out. “If it makes you feel better, go for it!”

Virgil frowned and looked at the Light Sides and Thomas suspiciously. “You’re all taking this… really well,” he said slowly. “I’m the only one like this. Not even one of the other Dark Sides is like this. Aren’t you freaked out?”

“Kiddo, no!”

“One’s gender would never make me forsake them!”

“You identify as a man, therefore you are a man.”

Thomas hadn’t spoken yet, and Virgil felt tears in his eyes.

“Virgil, buddy,” Thomas began. “I… I fucked up, didn’t I?” Thomas’ voice grew thick with tears. “I somehow made you think I think less of trans people.” Thomas buried his face in Virgil’s hair to hide his tears. “I-I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way. I promise I’d never think any less of you. You’re still my facet, my Virgil, and this is just one cool thing about you.”

Virgil pressed into Thomas. “I don’t know why I had to manifest this way. There’s no reason for it!”

Thomas rubbed Virgil’s arm. “We may never know why, and that’s okay. We don’t need to in order to accept you and love you.”

Virgil closed his eyes, exhausted. “Thank you, Thomas. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Thomas squeezed Virgil as tightly as he dared. “You were scared.” Thomas smiled before he sang. “It’s okay. We’re your best pals!”

Virgil snorted. “Dork.”

“Damn gay.”

“Don’t you mean- oh, I get it.”

Patton and Thomas giggled.

Roman stepped closer. “Virgil, would you like to stay in my room tonight? The bed’s big enough to fit all of us.”

Virgil looked up at Roman and smiled. “Sure Princey.”

Later that evening, when Virgil is surrounded by the Light Sides, he smiles to himself.

The Light Sides might be clueless morons, but I guess I could get used to this.

[aerinmelina]

If you take suggestions, could you write a fluffy warren fic for one of these write-tober days?

I hope Warren and Kendra friendshippy hurt/comfort will qualify as fluff... :) Thank you for your patience! Also, thank you to @ifnotyourfriend, who helped me with the bit of dialogue I was stuck on.

Fictober 19 day day 30 prompt: “I’m with you, you know that.”

Fandom: Fablehaven (Dragonwatch)

No content warnings apply. Spoiler warning for MOTPI does apply, though... this takes place prior to the events of chapter 23. You’ve been warned!

“I can’t… Warren, what am I going to do if I can’t find Calvin?” Kendra fretted. She held a flashlight in her hand and used it to sweep the area, willing her eyes to spot the nipsie amid sand, twigs, bushes, leaves, trees, rocks, and plenty of other items. She probably didn’t need the light, since she was able to see in the dark, but she wasn’t willing to take any chances. Anything to help find her friend.

“We’ll do our best,” Warren said, using his own flashlight to search an area adjacent to where Kendra was looking. “From what you’ve told me, he sounds like a pretty resourceful guy.”

“Yes, but he’s only maybe two inches tall! What if someone stepped on him? What if he’s stuck somewhere? What if he’s been captured by someone – or something – else? What if he flew out of my pocket and died on impact with the ground?!” She kicked the sand at her feet, leaving a decent indent in the otherwise smooth ground.

He was a little surprised by her somewhat frantic attitude, but he couldn’t blame her. She exuded stress; it was rolling off of her in fiery torrents. 

Warren held up his hands in a sign of peace. “Kendra, really, it’s going to be okay. I promise. There’s no use getting worked up like this; it won’t help anyone.”

Kendra snorted. “Are you even looking at all?”

Warren frowned. “What kind of question is that? Of course I’m looking. Kendra, I get that you’re upset, but come on. Calvin has gone missing before, right? Why is this such a catastrophe right now, when it wasn’t before?”

“Because I lose everything!” she cried, gesturing wildly with her hands. “First it was Vanessa and the Sphinx. Then it was Gavin. Then Bracken, Seth, Grandma and Grandpa, Agad, and now Calvin…! How long will it be before I lose you?” She dissolved into tears, her flashlight pointing uselessly skyward as she succumbed to the mental breakdown she’d been trying to keep at bay for the past few days.

Warren stopped dead in his tracks and pulled Kendra into a tight embrace. “Hey. Hey. Shhhh, Kendra – I’m with you, you know that. And now that we’re back together again, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Maybe you should stay away from me,” she choked out between sobs. “I’m a bad luck charm.”

“You are not a bad luck charm,” he stated. “You are courageous, honest, strong, and capable of so much more than you even know. You’ve accomplished more in the past two years than most people accomplish in their entire lives, and you’ve still got plenty of years ahead of you. Kendra, when people see you, they are awed by you. Even when they don’t know that you’re fairykind. I know that I’ve called you a princess in the past, but that title doesn’t exactly fit. You are a queen, and anyone who dares to treat you as less than that will have to deal with me. I’m so proud of you.”

They stood on the beach while Warren held Kendra close and swayed from side to side, hoping to bring at least some small semblance of comfort to his troubled cousin.

“I miss him, Warren,” Kendra cried. “I miss my brother. Losing Bracken was hard enough. Losing Seth is so much harder.”

“I miss him, too,” Warren said. “We’ll get him back, Kendra. I’ll do everything I can to help bring our little rascal back into the fold.”

Despite her tears, she smiled a little. She gave Warren one more tight squeeze and then tried to pull away from him, only to realize that she couldn’t because he wouldn’t let go.

“I’m not done hugging you,” he said. “I’ve got like 2 months and a bunch of major crises to make up for.”

She laughed a little through her sniffles. “We need to find Calvin.”

Warren rolled his eyes at her persistence and then pushed her away from him until he held her at arm’s length. “Okay. Here’s the deal,” he began. “We’ve searched this area pretty thoroughly, and the little guy hasn’t made any sign of being here. It’s dark, you’re clearly exhausted – have you slept at all in recent history? – anyway, you need some rest. I’m going to take you back to the tree house, you’re going to ask Tanu for a sleeping potion, and I’ll search more for Calvin myself.”

“I want to stay with you,” she protested. “This is a dragon preserve, and you’ll be alone. I can’t lose you, too.”

“I’ll bring Vanessa with me or something. We’ll look together. I promise not to go by myself.” He flung his arm around Kendra’s shoulders and turned back toward the direction of the tree house.

“You promise you’ll stay out of trouble?”

Warren scoffed. “Me? Get into trouble? When does that ever happen?”

Kendra elbowed him in his ribs.

“Ow. Yeah, I promise,” he said. “We’re going treasure hunting tomorrow, after all. I wouldn’t want to miss out on that!”

She wrapped her arm around Warren’s waist and snuggled into his side while they walked back to camp together. He squeezed her shoulder and held her close as they trudged through the sand, a comfortable silence falling between them while they listened to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Kendra started to nod off a little as they drew closer to the tree house, and Warren idly wondered if she would need a sleeping potion from Tanu after all.

[negasonicimagines]

How to Save a Life

request: so, um hi! i love your blog and i was wondering if you could write a yukiosonic x reader fic where the reader is a medium (like they can see/communicate with the dead) and like they hate it cause its scary so reader is like always jumpy and tired cause they cant sleep and yukio and ellie help them with that. if not thats cool but thanks

notes: I based the reader’s medium abilities on Klaus from The Umbrella Academy, because I got that sort of vibe (compared to Melissa Gordon from Ghost Whisperer) from how the reader was described in the request! Also, I’ve been dying to write something using How to Save a Life by The Fray, so I’m glad I finally got the opportunity. This is probably a lot angstier than you wanted, anon… Feel free to ask me for a redo.

warnings: attempted suicide, suicidal themes, allusions to Wade’s shitty childhood, etc. overall tw.

You jolt awake from a nightmare, a bus explosion that quite a few of the students here died in, apparently. You’re not sure whether or not you’re happy to see the moon in the sky outside.

There’s a girl hanging herself from the ceiling fan over your bed.

You sob.

“Shh, babe, it’s okay,” Ellie, who’s still awake and on her phone, tightens the grip of her arm around you as you hide your face in her chest, not wanting to look at him.

“I think we need a room transfer,” you whimper.

“We haven’t even finished unpacking from the last one…” Ellie reminds you.

“There’s a girl hanging from the ceiling fan above our bed,” you inform her, refusing to look at the ghost. You know that she’ll start to talk eventually, but pretending you don’t see them usually deters them.

“Christ,” she exhales. “I’m so sorry, babe.” Ellie runs her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp a bit as you weep.

Yukio had been spooning you, and, at your trembling, wakes up.

“Aw, honey, I’m so sorry,” she sleepily apologizes, nuzzling you gently and rubbing your back. “Everything’s alright, I promise we won’t let them hurt you.”

“Thank you,” you respond. Their touches soothe you, but you don’t fall asleep, even once they do. Her feet keep brushing over your leg as she sways with the draft that must’ve been occurring when she died.

The morning slowly comes, and she doesn’t fade away. Some do. You get up and go to the bathroom, completing your morning routine.

“Morning, Y/N,” she says, upon your return.

“Leave me alone, please,” you request.

“Don’t you want to know what drove me to this?” Her head is turned to the side and her body dangles limply from the rope. You ignore her, sickened.

You go to the nightstand next to the bed, averting your eyes. You unplug your phone, and upon lifting it up to look at it, coincidentally in the direction as her ghostly body, the hanging girl swings herself towards you with a loud shout.

You yelp, stumbling backwards and falling. She cackles at you.

“Y/N?” Ellie sleepily asks.

You don’t say anything, hoping she’ll fall back asleep, and open the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out the knife Wade got you for your last birthday. You stand on the bed, sawing at the rope. She falls to the ground, crawling towards the corner of the room before standing.

“Come on. What’s your name? What do I gotta do to get you to leave me the hell alone? ‘Cause I’m one more of you away from hanging from a ceiling fan myself, pal.”

The girl looks surprised at your outburst.

“I- I don’t know. I’m gonna just…” She phases through the bedroom door. Adrenaline rushes inside of you. You didn’t often confront the apparitions, many of them made vengeful and corrupt by their prolonged time on this spiritual plane. You didn’t have the means to help them all move on, and many of them didn’t want to.

It’s draining.

Ellie whimpers.

“Babe?” You ask, turning back to the bed. She’s sitting up, on the edge.

“You- You wanna- You’re- You’re suicidal?” She asks, brows furrowed and eyes watery as she stares at her hands in her lap.

“I- Yeah. I am,” you confess. It hurts to say. “Things have been r-really hard for a really long time, and- And even though y-you and Y-Yukio’s support makes things a lot easier, and you both are s-so important to me… I- I can’t do this anymore,” you sob, hiding your face in your hands. Ellie cries too, but not before standing and embracing you.

“You can, Y/N. You can. We need you, too. You make things easier for us, too. Shh, baby… Shh…” She rubs your back as the two of you hug. “I hope you understand that I- I’m not gonna be able to leave you alone for a while.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. Suicide watch, again.

“I just- I thought you were doing better.” She pulls away from the embrace, wiping your tears and smiling sadly. “But you’re not.”

“It’s just easier to manage sometimes,” you remind her.

Yukio stirs in her sleep before her eyes flutter open.

“What’s goin’ on?” She asks you, sleepily.

“Nothing,” you lie. “Just a bad dream, that’s all.”

“Don’t lie to her, Y/N,” Ellie scolds.

“She just woke up,” you protest.

“What’s wrong?” Yukio insists.

“Y/N’s suicidal again,” Ellie informs her, and your other girlfriend sighs. They’re so tired… Of you.

“We’ve got a mission today,” Yukio reminds. “I can text Wade.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you argue, but Ellie just shakes her head.

“You said you’re one more asshole ghost away from killing yourself. And this school is full of ‘em. So, if assigning that living asshole to keep you from doing so is what it takes to keep you safe, then we’re doing it.”

You know better than to argue. Your girlfriends get dressed and ready, and the three of you go to breakfast, meeting Wade there. You don’t say much as they discuss the situation, a lump forming in your voice at how tired they sound. You’re a leech, you know, constantly draining their energy.

You remember how you used to make them so happy, and now you’re just a burden. You stress them out with your constant problems, never taking a break from being miserable and pathetic long enough to take care of them. You don’t touch your food, avoiding Wade’s trained eyes.

There’s a rather sad-looking woman sitting next to him. A cancer patient, bald and in a hospital gown. She’s still pretty though, a natural radiance exuding from her. You watch her watch him, no malice in her gaze whatsoever.

“My beautiful boy,” she says, a hand literally ghosting across his cheek.

“Oh,” you respond, eyes filling with tears. She looks to you in surprise.

“You can see me?”

“Of course I can. I see dead people. Kind of my thing,” you tell the woman. Apparently, she wasn’t aware of you.

“I- I can’t stay for very long. I’m supposed to have passed on, but… I have to watch over him, keep him safe. I keep slipping in and out of this plane. It’s my time.” No wonder you hadn’t encountered each other yet.

“I- I could watch him for you,” you offer quietly. Wade observes your conversation, but doesn’t say anything because you don’t appear to be in too much distress.

“Would you?” the woman asks.

“Sure. Wade and I are friends, sort of.”

“We are!”  Wade insists. You and the woman smile.

“I’m Hailey,” she introduces herself.

“I’m Y/N,” you offer her your hand to shake. She tentatively reaches out, and, finding that she can touch you, is ecstatic. She goes to hug Wade, but slips through. “You can touch me because I’m a medium. But, if there’s anything you want me to say…” You sigh. “I don’t know if he’d believe me.”

“I doubt he would,” Hailey admits. “But- But can I have a little bit more time? Just one more day?”

You nod.

“Wade, listen, I’m fine. I will text you every hour on the hour. I just… Need some time alone, okay? I feel awful about making Yukio and Ellie worry so much, and I want to do something special for them.”

“Yeah, if you explain to me what that all was about. Is it… Is it Vanessa?”

You look to his mother, sighing.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He doesn’t push it, and you go back to your room.

You set up a blanket fort over the bed, hanging yarn from wall to wall to support the sheets, putting a white one at the foot of the bed and finding the novelty phone projector you’d gotten Ellie for her last birthday, so that you all can watch something on Netflix together.

You lay out fluffy PJ’s (a set each of you owned in different colors) for them both to change into, knowing they’d probably want to after a long day.

Then, you go to the kitchen, making cookies for them. Sugar for Ellie, chocolate chip for Yukio.

After they cool, you put them on a plate and wrap it with saran wrap so they’ll retain some of their heat until Ellie and Yukio get back. You take the treats back to your dorm, going to the bathroom and freshening up before changing into your own set of PJ’s.

You texted Wade throughout the hours it took to prepare, informing him of your feats. You were endlessly taunted and stalked by the spirits that loved to torment you, the entire time, but you insisted upon doing it yourself, and alone.

They arrive home in the early evening.

“Honey, you were supposed to rest today,” Ellie scolds, but hugs you, lifting you off the ground a bit with excitement. When she lets you go, you speak.

“Well, I wanted to do something nice for you guys. I know that you both do a lot for me, and that this doesn’t make it all up, but I wanted to start. I need to take care of my babes, too, not just the other way around.”

Yukio shakes her head, but kisses you on the cheek, giving you a one armed hug. They both change into their PJ’s, you unwrap the cookies, and they get on the bed, hidden in the fort.

You enter the fort, placing the plate on the bed behind the projector.

Ellie and Yukio squeeze you between them, both “holders” while you’re more of a “hold-ee,” in terms of cuddling. They share you like you’re giant stuffed animal as you three munch on cookies and watch various things on YouTube and Netflix.

Every time you feel yourself nodding off, you jolt, not wanting to be the first to sleep. Wanting to watch over them, to make sure they rest.

Eventually, they fall asleep, and you take the phone out of the projector and plug it up to charge. You put the toy away, and keep an eye on them. They both look so tired, even asleep.

You realize what you have to do.

You write the letter in your notebook, tears blurring your vision as you do. You love them so much. You tear the page out, taping it to the door and leaving.

You climb up the stairs until you make it to the roof of the school. There’s a garden up there, but you don’t even stop to admire it.

The cool air of the night is relief against your wet, burning cheeks as sobs escape your throat. You approach the edge, looking down nervously.

You hear a clang against the rock of the ledge behind you, and turn. It’s a grappling hook.

“Wait, wait!” Wade calls. “I’m a bit out of practice with this. Whew!”

As he climbs up, you know it’s now or never. If Wade gets up there, he can stop you for sure.

It’s gonna hurt, you’re aware, staring over the edge once more. You’re not sure if you should step off or jump. Stepping off is a little easier, but it doesn’t put you at a far enough distance from the building.

You decide to dive, but Wade grabs your arm before you can complete the action.

“She was- My mom was-“ his breathing is shaky, and you continue to cry, hiding your face in your unrestricted hand. He takes you in his arms. “She was in my dream tonight. She told me to stop you, and then she said good- Good- Goodbye… You promised her you’d watch me.”

“I’m nothing but a burden to everyone I care about, Wade,” you tell him. Like it isn’t obvious. “They’re so tired of me. I’m so tired of me, of this horrible curse that everyone calls a goddamn gift.”

You both shake and cry, and you know he’s not letting go of you anytime soon.

“You are not a burden, Y/N.”

“I used to make them so happy… And now they’re just exhausted, all the time. No matter what I do to show my appreciation, I know that nothing will ever be enough because they’re what’s keeping me alive,” you insist.

“Then why are you up here?” Wade asks. You just shake your head.

“I need to free them.”

“They can make that decision for themselves. If they didn’t love you they wouldn’t be with you,” he attempts to convince you.

“They just don’t want blood on their hands,” you disagree, and he holds you tighter.

“That’s not true, Y/N… That’s not true,” Wade repeats it over and over again as you cry in his arms, the tears and the listening and the five other (dead) people on the roof wearing you out.

“I- I can’t go back to that dorm right now,” you tell him. “I don’t want to wake them up, for them to- To miss out on more sleep because of me.”

“You can hang out in my room,” he reassures. “I’ve got a small couch you can sleep on, if you manage to sleep.”

You nod, and he leads you down the stairs. A spirit appears. An old man with cruel blue eyes and a cigar in his mouth. His army garb, Canadian, lists his name: Wilson.

You’d heard enough about Thomas Wilson to know he was bad news. He must know Hailey is gone. Who knows how long he’s been watching, waiting? You’re disgusted, and you deck the spectral piece of shit in the face.

“Leave him the hell alone!” You demand, and the creep narrows his eyes at you, rising up from the ground and shoving you backwards. You fight back, taking out all your anger and hatred of your abilities on someone you knew deserved it.

At the end of it, the bastard flees, and you’re left with bruised knuckles and a stunned Wade Wilson.

“Who was that, Y/N?” He asks.

“Your parents are quite attached to you, Wade. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be keeping my eye on you, like I promised.”

As the two of you proceed to his dorm, you explain: “Spirits can drain people. Hence why I’m such a mess all the time. I’m a medium, the rules that apply to normal humans don’t apply to me. If a spirit has a place in your heart and is trapped on Earth, they can take energy from you.

“Other than mediums, though, kind, good people are often preyed upon because they have a place in their heart for everything. Since your mother and father have places in your heart, they were able to latch onto you and keep their place in this plane. Your mother didn’t take much, which is why she was slipping in and out of the afterlife. But Thomas… He packed quite a punch, even if he was waiting in the wings prior to Hailey’s passing on. You should start feeling a lot better soon.”

“You really are something special, Y/N L/N,”  is all Wade says in response. You make it to his room and he flops onto the bed.

It’s nearly three AM, you realize upon looking at the digital clock on his nightstand. You curl up under a throw blanket on the love seat, sleeping a lot more soundly after crying, after standing up for yourself and Wade.

There’s a banging on the door. You ignore it, hiding from the sunlight under your blanket.

You hear Wade get up and stumble to the door.

“They- They’re-“ Ellie sobs, and you remember that you never retrieved the note. You also hear Yukio’s wails, both of them crying heavily. Were they really so upset you were gone?

You hear the crinkling of paper, and Wade mutter “Shit.” He walks over to you. “Kid, wake up. We didn’t think to get the damn note.”

You remove the blanket from over you, standing up, and your girlfriends cry harder, now with relief.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize weakly. They shake their heads, and Wade gestures with your head for you to go to them. The three of you embrace.

“Don’t- Why- I-“ Yukio doesn’t know how to start, still sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I’m so sorry.”

“We should’ve- We should’ve known you would feel-“ Ellie attempts, but neither of them can stop crying long enough to piece together their words.

Eventually, though, they manage to steady their breathing.

Ellie holds your face in her hands, a devastated expression still on her face.

“You are not a burden, Y/N. You are my best friend. You are caring, and smart, and funny, and beautiful. I never want to lose you. Never ever.” She kisses your forehead deeply, before releasing you.

Yukio wraps you in a tight individual hug.

“I’m never letting you go,” she whimpers, before quietly continuing: “Never ever. Ellie and I are happy to help you. You deserve to be loved, to be supported. And we both know that you love and support us back, in every way you can. We’re in a relationship, not working on a group project. Being kind to yourself if one of the best ways you can show your love for us.”

You sniffle as she lets you go, and look to Wade.

“I’m sorry,” you say to him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Wade embraces you in the same fashion as Yukio, though due to height he just smushes your face into his chest.

“Don’t thank me. Thank…” He gets choked up. “You know. And thank you.” Wade releases you, holding your hands after and inspecting your knuckles. “I won’t forget this.”

“Neither will I,” you respond, looking back into his eyes. You two now have an understanding.

He lets go of your hands. You look to your girlfriends.

“Let’s go home, honey,” Yukio suggests, and you nod tiredly. You’d only gotten four hours of fitful sleep. Your girls take your hands and lead you to the room.

The fort, the room is in shambles, still smoldering.

“Christ,” you breathe, shocked at the mess.

“The news that you were dead didn’t quite go over well,” Ellie remarks, sounding rather desolate. Her tone is that of tiredness.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again.

“It’s- It’s fine. As long as you’re doing better, as long as you’ll let us help you get better-”

“What if I’m never better? What if I’m just another ghost, sucking away the energy of good people to maintain my place here?” you lament, sniffling.

“Baby, it’s not like that, I promise,” Yukio attempts to reassure you. “We love you so much, and no sacrifice is too great-”

“You shouldn’t be making sacrifices for me! I’m worthless!” You shriek, finally truly snapping, at least verbally. “I am nothing! All I ever do is take, and take, and take, and I give nothing back except for pain and misery and exhaustion.”

“Nothing at all? Not cuddles, not music recommendations, not a confidant, not a pillow fort and cookies after a long day? Not reassurance? Not a sense of fulfillment? Nothing? Not even love?” Ellie storms off to the closet, bringing out an old Converse shoe box. She opens it, tips it over, and various little things come out. Scraps of paper, movie tickets, gum wrappers, a couple tubes of lip balm, and more.

“What is all that, Ellie?” you wonder.

“It’s something I’ve been keeping since our first date. You’ve caught me, okay? I’m a sentimental bastard. But thank god I am, so I can show you just how fucking wrong you are,” she explains. You don’t respond, and she continues: “Movie tickets to Fifty Shades of Grey, our first date. You bought those, even though I didn’t want you to. We were planning to go as friends to take the piss out of it, but I finally grew a pair and made it a date. We still mocked it to no end, but I finally fucking kissed you after. Finally.

“You gave me this piece of gum in Geometry right before the midterms. Your last piece of Extra gum, Rainbow Sherbet-flavored, before you were gonna be able to go into town that Friday. For luck, you said. And I actually fucking passed it.

“A birthday card. You were the only one who remembered my birthday, and- And-” Ellie’s smiling, and so are you, but your eyes, hers, and Yukio’s are overflowing with tears. “I don’t understand why you can’t believe that I love you. That we love you. You’ve done so much, for both of us. Yes, we support you. But what kind of partners, what kind of human beings would we be if we didn’t? And you support us in return.”

“I- I guess… I guess you’re right,” you acknowledge. You really hadn’t thought of yourself, your efforts, as equal to hers and Yukio’s.

“I don’t have a shoe box, but I promise that I treasure you, too,” Yukio says, hugging you from behind. “Let’s clean up this room,” she suggests. You nod, and the three of you get started. Dismantling what’s left of the fort, moving a rug to cover the scorch marks in the carpet, and the like.

At the end of it all, you three snuggle in bed, both of them holding you. You’re in between them as they both lay on their sides, arms around you and (partially) each other. You’re warm, safe.

“I love you both so much. I’m so sorry that I almost abandoned you.”

“We’re just glad that you’re okay, sweetheart,” Yukio replies, squeezing you a little tighter.

“We really are. Please, please tell us if you start to feel that way again. I’d be glad to go through the box with you.”

“Maybe we could get a notebook or a journal to catalogue all the items. We could pass it on to, I don’t know, someone. Maybe publish it,” Yukio suggests, and Ellie nods.

“That’d be pretty cool,” Ellie responds. “What would it be titled, you think?”

“Ingredients of Love? Nah, too cheesy. Y/N?” Yukio asks, but you don’t respond. You’ve drifted off to dreamland, in the security of their arms, knowing that they love you and that they’ll always keep you safe.

[guardiandae]

Meta/Commentary Part 3: A Little ‘XO’ Wouldn’t Go Amiss

(Spoilers below)

I don’t normally add chapter titles to my fics, but for this one I did and now it’s cool to point out

Finally, we’ve reached the last chapter, and this is an integrated POV, which I think really brings the theme of their communication problems full circle. No more split narratives, they need to start communicating with each other if they want to stay together.

Nate woke up on the couch the next morning with Wade's blanket tucked in all around him.

WADE TUCKED NATE IN, I’M SCREAMING, WHO WROTE THIS?? ILLEGAL!

-

Being disconnected from Wade's mind made everything feeling so much emptier and a little bit colder.

Can I call this foreshadowing?

-

Wade hadn't moved in with many possessions, but this one box he'd insisted on storing underneath Nate's bed, saying it'd be safer there. There were dozens of photos scattered across the bed in front of him. It looked disorganized, but Wade probably had a method to how he'd arranged them, one that he just couldn't recognize.

Ahhh he keeps this box under Nate’s bed, where it will be safer. This box full of photos, full of the only things that are important to him and irreplaceable. Because Nate can keep them safer, because he trusts Nate even more than he trusts himself. He asked Nate to literally take control of his finances when they moved in together, because he didn’t trust himself, and he insisted on keeping these under his bed. Nate could have ruined him, if he had designs to. He really could’ve.

-

Carefully, as not to disturb the photos spread across the mattress, Nate sat down next to Wade and pulled his feet up, copying Wade's posture. Wade gave him a sidelong glance and then relaxed, moving closer by a fraction, so Nate could see the photo of himself and Vanessa.

Nate shows care for Wade’s stuff. He copies Wade’s body language to show that he’s being attentive. Nate is not a good verbal communicator, this is his way of silently trying to show Wade that he cares even if he doesn’t know what the fuck to say. Wade isn’t sure what to make of Nate yet, but he’s starting to pick up on this body language, and he’s naturally more of an emotionally open person, so he lets Nate in.

-

Wade didn't have to look at Nate to know that he had that stupid look on his face. The one where his brow got that little crease and his mouth frowned too much. He didn't want Nate making that face at him. He didn't want Nate getting worry lines over him before he left. Or worse -- staying out of some misguided sense of obligation.

He didn't wanna talk about his problems. His problems weren't Nate's problems.

Wade said he’d been thinking, and Nate asks him why. Wade doesn’t say it, but this entire line of thought is what Wade’s been thinking about. Nate had just said he had an opportunity to leave. Wade still thinks that’s what Nate wants. He doesn’t want Nate to stay just because Wade had a breakdown, if staying isn’t what Nate wants. But he can’t tell Nate that, because then Nate will know, and that will also affect Nate’s decision. So instead Wade picks something else to say, that doesn’t affect Nate personally.

"Thinking about making a scrapbook," Wade said, putting the photo down carefully into a particular spot, as if he were choosing the page in his mind's eye. "My memory isn't what it used to be.”

This is a real problem Wade has to face. Objects are almost as impermanent as his memory, but they’re all he has, and he can trust those. Nate tries to show he cares again, and help by offering a suggestion - make that scrapbook and write down as much as he can remember as he goes, to strengthen the memories.

-

"God, you're smart," Wade said, his voice full of admiration and edged with excitement. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

"I don't know. I feel like an exceptional dumbass lately," Nate confessed.

"Exceptional Dumbass. Remind me of that if I ever wanna write an autobiography."

Nate tried to smile at the joke, but it was difficult. He understood Wade deflecting with humor, but now he wasn't sure what to say, and it felt like the opportunity to apologize had just escaped him.

And here, Wade’s coping mechanism accidentally shuts down an opportunity for Nate to hedge into making an apology. They’re still stepping on each other without meaning to, but there’s beginning to be an awareness of this happening.

-

In one of the photos they’re looking at, Wade and Vanessa have matching nailpolish, and the memory makes Wade excited because he remembers that was one of his interests, and then sad because he doesn’t have those items anymore and also because he remembers he probably shouldn’t be excited about something like that. 

“...Don't have any polish anymore, either. Probably for the best," he added, although he sounded sad about it. "Merc with a manicure doesn't sound as cool."

"As cool as what?"

"Merc With a Mouth," Wade said, with a silent 'duh' at the end.

But notice Nate doesn’t comment on it or shut him down. Foreshadowing? :3c 

-

Nate, in a roundabout way, says that he admires Wade, and Wade catches on to what Nate said, (mid self-deprecating ramble), it brings tears to his eyes. 

“Wait, did you just say you're a fan of me?"

"Do I not say that often enough?"

"No. Or like, ever," Wade muttered, not-so-subtly wiping at his eyes.

"I'm not great with words," Nate admitted. It was this shortcoming that had caused Wade so much recent misery. "Feels like I never know what to say. That's why I'd rather let you do the talking."

Wade fiddled with the photo in his hands. "Thought you just hated talking to me."

FINALLY, Nate is able to broach the subject and start communicating with Wade, even if it’s just being able to say ‘I’m bad at communicating’ because that’s really fucking important information for Wade to know. Wade thought that Nate hated him, but from Nate’s side, most of the time he just didn’t know what to even say and just let Wade do the talking. It made Wade feel like Nate never listened to him, ever, and so much of that could have been avoided.

-

"I just hated… how much I didn't hate [living with you]."

Wade looked lost and a little bit angry. "Yeah, I don't get that."

Nate let out a breath, full of disappointment at himself, at the words that wouldn't connect. "I'm trying," he said, a little plea for Wade's patience as he tried to gather his thoughts and put them into words.

"The first thing I admired about you was your persistence," Nate finally said. "Even if I thought you were wrong. But you weren't wrong. I was. And I liked your sense of humor. Even if you were a dumbass. But you're not a dumbass. I was the dumbass. You put on this act like you don't take anything seriously and nothing affects you. Like everything's just a game to you. And it's a shitty act. It really is. But I fell for it. I wanted to believe it. Because if you didn't care about anything, then I didn't have to, either. I didn't have to acknowledge that I was hurting you. I didn't have to treat you like a person. And I didn't. I treated you like shit."

For Nate, it would’ve been easier on him if he did hate living with Wade. Wade is able to express his displeasure, because he doesn’t understand what Nate’s saying at first, it’s hurtful, but then gives Nate a moment and space to get words out and just listen.

-

"To be fair, I am shit," Wade said.

"No, you're not," Nate said, a little too aggressively. "You're a considerate and generous person. Funny. Sensitive. Heroic, even. You deserve to be taken seriously. I was just so caught up in my own shit, I didn't stop to think that you had feelings, too. You're fucking messy, I guess, but I'm growing kind of fond of the scatterbrain--" he trailed off, realizing that Wade was in tears, despite his silence. "Did I fuck this up again?"

Once again, Wade kinda deflects the emotional moment with self-deprecating humor, emphasis on self-deprecating, but this time Nate doesn’t let him. Nate is like the embodiment of ‘I will fucking fight anyone who says you’re shit.’ ‘But I am shit.’  (Nate, rolling up his sleeves) ‘Okay, square the fuck up.’ It’s still aggressive, but channeled in a positive way and tbh Wade really needs someone like that.

-

[Wade] leaned over to grab a tissue off of Nate's nightstand. "Sorry, I know you didn't buy them for this purpose," he said, wiping his eyes and then his nose.

I’m screaming, this is a masturbation joke.

-

Nate: asks if this is the appropriate time to offer Wade a hug, because he genuinely isn’t sure.

Wade: Is it?! That’s like asking if I want to pet a polar bear.

Nate: Oh.  ((doesn’t move because he’s completely fucking lost and confused))

Wade: I always wanna pet a polar bear, Nate. But the thing with polar bears is, they'll usually maul you to death. And you're the polar bear.

Nate: Yeah. That’s fair.  ((still doesn’t move because Wade says he wants a hug but also some metaphor about how Nate is fucking mean to him and would kill him, so that’s probably a no, so he’s still confused as hell and just gonna mind his own fucking business))

He still didn't understand, Wade realized. He wanted to scream internally, but if he was gonna teach Nate good communication skills, he needed to demonstrate.

Wade:  You can hug me at any given time of any given day. You can hug me even if I'm sleeping. You don't need to ask for permission, ever. Just fuck me up.

Because... Wade is a lot more emotionally open than Nate is, and a lot more touchy-feely. 

Nate: Okay.  ((still doesn’t fuckinggggg move because Wade explained how he felt but still didn’t literally say ‘yes, hug me now.’))

"Nate. We're doing a thing here," Wade said, clenching his fists with barely contained restraint. "Hugging. I'm a slut for it. Anytime, anywhere. I wanna hug. Now. So you need to tell me your stance, where the cut-off point is before you're gonna start knifing me. Or grant me carte blanche. Go."

At this point, Wade kinda realizes, despite Nate’s initial question, that Nate is not a hugger by nature. Point being that every time he’s embraced Nate before now (without permission), he’s either been stabbed or been threatened to be stabbed. So Nate either needs to tell Wade his stance on physical contact, or Wade is going to go take his damn hug omg.

The direct approach finally made Nate catch up with the programming. "Right. Got it. Okay. You can hug me if I'm awake," he said. "And if you feel like you need a hug. And if I know it's coming. And if I say stop, you stop."

"Nice. I like boundaries. I can respect that," Wade said. He was practically vibrating with need. "Can I get that hug now?"

This is important for Nate because it will come up again in the sequel and it’s extremely important for Wade to respect his boundaries (because, SPOILERS, hello PTSD!) one of the big things is Wade continuing to help Nate express and receive affection while still respecting his boundaries and comfort zone, and trust that Wade will actually listen and not push outside of hard limits on what he’s willing to allow from Wade at any given time.

-

When Nate lifted his hands again, Wade climbed back onto the mattress and crawled to him, flopping face-first against Nate's stomach and locking his arms around Nate's waist.

Nate put his arms around Wade, rubbing his back.

"Sorry for being an asshole," Nate said.

Hullo this is so sweet.

-

"Will it help if I tell you why?" Nate questioned.

"Why what? Why you were such an asshole?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me."

"I didn't want to get attached," Nate said. "I never intended on staying for long."

Wade felt cold again, his stomach twisting at the admission. Knowing Nate's reasoning didn't help. At all. But he didn't want to discourage Nate from being honest, so he didn't say that. He just held on a little tighter, as if Nate wouldn't notice.

Nate’s doing this best to communicate, but once again, we’re getting two different interpretations happening.

What Nate said: “I didn’t want to get attached, but I did. I never intended on staying, but I’m staying.”

What Wade heard: “I still have no intention of staying with you.”

-

"Are you really gonna be an X-Man? An X-Men? Join the X-Men? Stop me, I'm not sure what the grammatical rules are here."

"I was planning on it," Nate said. "I need stability. We both do."

Wade felt his heart sink into his stomach. "Yeah. I get that."

What Nate said: I need a stable income and an actual job with structure. We both need a stable income and structure.

What Wade heard: I need stability (away from you, because you are chaotic).

-

"Okay, pretend you're happy for once!"

They both smiled for the camera as Wade started snapping pictures, but Nate noticed that Wade's smile was as insincere as his own. It was nothing like the one Vanessa managed to bring out in him. And that was fair enough. He wasn't Vanessa. He didn't expect to work any miracles. He just wanted Wade to be a little bit happier.

Nate leaned closer, locking an arm around Wade. "Smile, fucker," he said, and felt a surge of relief when Wade laughed, a genuine warmth coming back into his stupidly soulful brown eyes.

"I knew you loved me," Wade teased.

"Yeah, yeah. Take the picture," Nate said, bumping his head against Wade's and resting there for a second. Or two.

When they pulled apart, the little spark in Wade's eyes stayed there.

1. Wade wants a picture of Nate, so he can’t forget him, because he thinks he’s basically never going to see Nate again soon even if Nate promises otherwise. Ow, my fucking heart.

2. Both of them want this picture to be happy, but Wade’s happiness is obviously feigned until Nate notices and makes an effort, in his own way, to make Wade smile a little more genuinely.

3. Nate is just as touch starved as Wade, word of god.

-

The X-Mansion was quieter than it usually was every time Wade dropped by.... Negasonic was only answering his texts with middle finger emojis,

I needed to prove that Negasonic was alive because the Snappening might be happening but I refuse to bury my gays. I know like 90% of the X-Men are queer but SHHHHH. Protect the lesbians.

-

THIS ENTIRE NEXT BIT:

((Nobody answering the door))

Wade: Don't worry, I've got this. ((PICKS UP A FUCKING ROCK))

Nate: Is that the best idea?

Wade: Baby don’t worry I’mma get you into the best mutant school.

((HEAVES ROCK THROUGH THE FRONT WINDOW))

((Both of them just stare at each other while they wait for alarms to start going off, but nothing happens))

"Someone forgot to set the alarm before they left," Wade remarked.

"If you crawl through that window, you'll disembowel yourself," Nate warned him.

He wasn't wrong. There were still a lot of very nasty-looking pieces left in the frame.

"The things I do for love," Wade sighed, squaring himself up.

Nate turned the handle on the front entrance and pushed it open, staring at Wade the entire time. "Love is an open door."

"I… You… I thought you tried the door, Nate!" Wade complained, following Nate inside. "Wait, you've seen the movie Frozen?"

"It's a classic," Nate replied.

"Can we sing Love Is An Open Door together? I think that's actually a really good representation of our relationship. I mean friendship."

"No."

"Why not?! It's so us, Nate!"

"Sweet, funny Anna and the douchebag who leaves her to die?”

1. This is peak comedy.

2. Nate is on the same brainwave of banter as Wade already and I fucking love it when couples reach this level of synchronicity. 

3. Here’s some choice lyrics bc Love Is An Open Door is legit a great song for them:  “Okay, can I just, say something crazy? // I love crazy!   //////   Say goodbye // To the pain of the past // We don't have to feel it anymore! // Love is an open door!”

4. Also, Nate just called Wade sweet and funny basically.

-

Inside the Mansion, Nate and Wade split up, and Wade finds Angel in the kitchen eating a depression!sandwich.

I don’t know a lot of X-Men and I sure as hell don’t know Angel’s characterization, but I based it off of two things:

1. The Snappening is happening, so most of the people Angel knew are dead, and so if half of the population of the planet, and that’s really fucking stressful and sad and depressing!

2. That video of drunk David Hasselhoff eating a hamburger.

"Pigeon Wing?!" Wade blurted out. He didn't need an answer, because there was, in fact, only one mutant that he knew of who had the powers of a fully grown man with fully grown pigeon wings on his back.

"Not a pigeon," Pigeon Wing said, not even bothering to look surprised about Wade's sudden appearance. He had his left elbow on the counter, head resting against his hand, looking like he'd just had the worst week of his life and his roast beef sandwich was the only thing keeping him going.

"I thought you were dead," Wade said.

"God, I wish," he muttered.

"That's concerning, but also, big mood.”

I’m screaming bc Pigeon Wing is such a mood. Sometimes you just , sit in the kitchen and eat a depression meal. And he was sitting right there while Wade threw a rock in through the window and while Wade and Nate entered the house and could not give a single fuck to get up.

-

Wade tells Angel that he’s there because Nate is a very disgruntled Slytherin who needs to be sorted into the Hufflepuff house so he can be surrounded by soft and gentle souls. Do not fight me on this.

-

"You know Cable?" Pigeon Wing asked, looking both surprised and skeptical.

"Know him? He's the only man who's ever been inside of me," Wade replied.

FGKGUELEVLKDVLFDKJLDFKGFLSJL

“Hey, Nate, we're friends right? Tell him we're friends."

"Friends?" Nate repeated, lifting an eyebrow. "I'd say we're more than just friends, Wade. I've been inside of you."

I GENUINELY FORGOT NATE ADDED ONTO WADE’S JOKE AND I’M 

-

"See?! And earlier we took pictures in bed together."

EVERY SENTENCE IS PUNCHING ME IN HTE FACE.

-

((Scott and Logan arrive to see who broke in))

"Wow, isn't this neat?" Wade asked, bouncing on his toes. "We're both here and our dads are both here."

"I'm not your dad, Wade," Logan said, already past his tolerance for Wade's shit.

"Are you sure?" Wade started counting on his fingers. "I was made with your genetic material, you never spend any time with me, you don't love me, and you never call. Sounds a lot like my dad."

I swear most of the characters in comics are related to each other by marriage, blood, or sci-fi genetic experimentation. Logan is still a better dad than Wade’s sperm donor dad, and also Loki is Wade’s other dad who is still a better dad than his sperm donor dad, but if you wanna hear about that you’ll have to ask me about it, I’ll be happy to fill you in. No headcanons, just comics canon here: Wolverine’s DNA was used to try to give other people his healing factor in the Weapon X experiments, and Wade took to it like a fish in a nuclear explosion, and Loki is Loki.

-

"If I'm gonna live here, or join your team, I have a couple conditions," Nate explained.

"Yeah, he's gonna need his own bathroom, for one," Wade piped up. "Nate's a private guy. And that fancy rich-people garden better produce some vegetables, or Nate's gonna be tearin' some shit up with one of those little handheld shovels. He's also gonna need a TV in his room with full access to every cooking- and food-related channel currently known to mankind."

"Those aren't my conditions," Nate assured them.

"And a lifetime supply of lip balm," Wade added.

Wade negotiating for these stupid little things that he knows are important to Nate. M...my heart... this fucking idiot ;;;;

-

"I want Wade to have the same opportunity to join the team."

Scott shook his head. "Absolutely not."

"A room, then," Nate offered, but Scott kept shaking his head.

"Not happening."

"That's fine. Thanks for the offer. I'm not interested," Nate said, walking away.

ALL NATE WANTED TO NEGOTIATE FOR WAS FOR WADE TO BE ABLE TO STAY WITH HIM, AAAAAAAAA

AND THEY SAID NO AND HE’S LIKE

OKAY BYE UGLY

SDGDFHKGKDGKK

-

After Nate walks out, Scott basically rounds on Wade and asks him why he’s fucking up Nate’s shot at redemption, and Wade is angry because from his POV, nobody’s been there to actually help Nate navigate his emotional shit. Which is accurate. Scott is aware Nate is allegedly his son from the future, but doesn’t fully trust him.

"You and Cable left a wake of destruction when he came back to this timeline," Scott said. "And I'm not just talking property damage. There's a body count. If it weren't for the Event, you'd still be in prison. You should be in prison. I'm not even sure about Cable."

"His name's Nate. And all of that shit? It's on me. Not him," Wade said. "Do you even know what he's been through? I might be the one who's fucked up, but I didn't see anybody else trying to convince him there's still some good in this world."

"There's nothing good about you, Wade," Logan scoffed. "You're the last person Nate should be hanging around. He'll end up just like you."

"You think I don't know that?! I don't want him to end up like me!" Wade shouted. There was a silence, and Wade's shoulders slumped as his own words settled into his bones. "I don't want anyone to end up like me."

"That might be the first smart thing I've ever heard you say," Logan muttered, as heavy footsteps came back to them. Nate appeared in the doorway.

1. Scott really thinks he’s gonna help Nate somehow, by offering him a spot on the team, when he otherwise hasn’t done shit and doesn’t trust Nate or even call him by his real name. Issa bad look.

2. Wade telling them that EVERYTHING that happened (in the movie, while Nate was trying to kill a child, mind you) is his fault and not Nate’s, so they’ll blame him and not think badly of Nate bc Nate deserves a second chance and he knows those are rare to come by.

3. Scott and Logan successfully make Wade feel like he’s somehow fucked up Nate’s chance to have a better life just by associating with him. Hi, these are my salty feels @ how most heroes treat Wade in the comic book because they only see him as a fuckup or a punching bag (like Nate did in the start of this fic) and not a real person with trauma and emotions. OW. Colossus, sweetie, you’re the ONLY real bitch in this entire house, I’m-

-

"Nate," Wade said, not sure if he felt relieved or worse about Nate coming back. "You should really recons-"

"Wade, you were supposed to follow me," Nate said. "The whole 'I'm not going anywhere without you' gesture doesn't really work if you're still here."

Wade tries to make Nate reconsider but Nate doesn’t even let him try  to convince him otherwise he’s just like, HEY THE WHOLE ROMANTIC STORMING OUT THING DOESN’T WORK IF YOU DON’T FOLLOW ME???

-

1. Logan is the one who is less stubborn than Scott, re: Wade Wilson, and stops Nate and tells him he can still be on the team without living at the mansion, they really need his help.

2. Nate agrees without hesitation bc fuck your mansion.

3. Nate ignores Logan calling Wade crazy, and instead tells him point blank that they’ll only get him full time for a trial period and then after that, he’s setting his own priorities. By which, he means, prioritizing Wade.

“Let's go home, Wade."

Those four little words kinda took the breath right out of Wade's chest.

But before they left the mansion, Wade scuffed his boots as hard as he could across the floor.

THIS IS PEAK ROMANCE, KIDS

-

At home, Wade is so sad he doesn’t notice Nate brings him hot cocoa just like in his dream for him

"You could've had Colossus as a roommate," Wade mumbled into his knees.

"I don't want Colossus as a roommate," Nate said. "I'm not leaving, Wade. Not unless you want me to go."

I’m cryinggggggg.

-

"I'm not worth it, Nate. I know it. Logan knows it. Scott knows it. The people reading this at home know it."

Nate looked skeptical. "Is that you speaking, or the nasty little voice in your head?"

"No. The white box keeps saying we need to talk. And now yellow is singing that Janet Jackson song, so thanks."

"I don't hear any singing," Nate said, watching Wade carefully.

"Oh, it's there," Wade assured him. "No, my first name ain't baby. It's Wade. Miss Wilson, if you're nasty."

Nate reached out to touch Wade's head, but Wade stopped him, clinging onto his wrist.

"I don't need a reset, Nate. You can't fix crazy."

"You're not crazy, you ass," Nate said, dropping his hand. "I worry about you, Wade."

"Yeah? Well, don't."

"You don't get to decide how I feel."

1. Wade was literally just told he’s bad for Nate, which confirms his own fears and insecurities.

2. Wade’s boxes are actually inside of his head now, instead of something he’s saying out loud. Just like the narrative integrating, Wade’s fractured mind is healing, a little bit. Progress.

3. Wade saying the song out loud makes Nate doubt that the boxes aren’t back, and bad, so he wants to help but Wade stops him because Nate’s powers can’t be a crutch to fix his problems.

4. Nate finally tells Wade he’s not crazy, but rereading this I kinda wish he’d punched Logan instead when he kept saying it, idk.

5. “You don’t get to decide how I feel” is verbatim what one of my exes told me when I kept trying to push her away in the midst of my depressive episodes. I thought I was bad for her. I still, and always will, love her. It stuck with me.

-

"I've always been a mess, Nate. If you go, that's not going to make it any worse. But staying with me isn't going to fix it, either. I don't wanna be anybody's pet project. I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything just because I'm lucky enough to have more money right now. I just liked being around you. But I don't want this thing between us to be based on pity or convenience or obligation. I don't want anything at all if it's gonna be like that."

I wanted to try to drive home the point that... love (even though they aren’t calling it this right now) doesn’t cure mental illness. Wade is still going to be a mess either way, but he’ll either be a mess with Nate in his life, or without. Nate can help, he can be there while Wade tries to get better, but he can’t just fix Wade, and Wade wants to make sure Nate knows this and isn’t just following some savior complex (coughs violently @ comics!Nate)

-

Emoting was a lot like puking. Sickening, with a lot of tears involved. But the longer you held it in, the worse you felt. Sometimes you just had to let it all out and then pretend it never happened in the first place. Which was a lot harder to do with someone else witnessing it.

Mood.

-

"I haven't been the easiest person to get along with," Nate said. "And you were right. You were the one who'd been trying, this whole time. When I first got here, I wasn't in a good place. The last time I saw my wife and daughter, they were… they were…" His voice cracked. He put a hand to his face, as if it could blot out the memories that still came back to him vividly. "They were my whole world," he said instead, the words catching in his throat. "When I fall asleep, sometimes I still see it. Their bodies. Even though I know everything's fine now, that it should all be erased, I can't get it out of my head. And the only proof I have that they're safe, that any of this meant anything, is a teddy bear."

Wade unfurled himself, wishing that Nate was a hugger, because he sure looked like he could use one right now.

"You're grieving, Nate."

"I'm not--" Nate shook his head in denial. "They're alive. I'll see them again. Someday. I need to believe that."

((YELLS BECAUSE NATE FINALLY ADMITTED THE CORE ROOT OF HIS ISSUES BUT AT THE SAME TIME IS STILL IN DENIAL AAAA))

"Yeah. Someday I'll see Nessa again, too," Wade said quietly, and watched Nate crumble. He scooted a little closer, but not too close, because he knew Nate was never far from a knife and it was never wise to corner a wounded animal. "They're alive, Nate. You saved them. You did right. That doesn't cancel out the fact that you still saw that other timeline, where they died. You lived that. It's still real for you."

I noticed while I was working on my last chapter of Hello, Handsome, that this theme of ‘trauma is still trauma even if it didn’t leave scars’ pops up again. Wade, of anyone, would understand this concept. He might heal, but just because his wounds go away doesn’t mean the pain isn’t real. Just because the voices isn’t in his head aren’t ‘real’ doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect his reality. Just because Nate’s family is alive again in the new timeline doesn’t mean the old timeline and trauma Nate came from isn’t real, even if he doesn’t want to admit to himself that it is. Denying it won’t spare him the pain, it’ll only keep him from being able to fully grieve his reality.

-

Wade’s special box of photos and memorabilia isn’t the only thing kept safe under Nate’s bed - Wade digs out the bear that had belonged to Nate’s daughter and gives it to him, because Nate had put it away once everything was over.

Wade carried the stuffed bear like it was a sacred object, and handed it to Nate with the same reverence. "Mr. Teddykins is a good listener," he said.

Nate's eyes flickered up at Wade in surprise as he took the bear. Instinctively, he brought it close, breathing in the scents of home still lingering in the soft fur, and then tucked the plush under his chin, holding onto it. "How did you know his name?"

Wade sat down beside him again. "Because you told me, when we went out drinking that one time. You said Hope had it since she was three."

"Yeah. It was the first thing I ever got her," Nate said, a fond but sad look on his face.

Hope is adopted. This isn’t a throwaway detail. Nate and his wife Aliya adopted Hope when she was three and the bear is the first thing Nate gave to her when they got her. It’s important. That’s his daughter.

Fun fact: Hope is also adopted in Hello, Handsome, because it’s important to me to keep making the point that she is 100% fiercely his daughter. I’m pretty sure I’ll always have Hope continue to be brought into Nate’s and Wade’s life via adoption, unless her being Nate’s genetic offspring is somehow at all important to the plot, which it probably will never be bc I can’t imagine adopted kids being any less valid in any way and anything that’s ever told you otherwise is genetic propaganda. I said it.

-

"My little girl is gorgeous. She's got this fine red hair that's the softest thing you could ever imagine. Aliya always said it was the fire coming out of her soul. Smart as a whip. Stubborn as hell, too. I think she gets it from her mother."

Wade spluttered a laugh. "I think she gets it from you, Robocop."

Hi I love Hope and this is pro-Hope propaganda. She is the only valid child. Aside from Baby Shark. And Sleeper. Every other child is on thin ice.

-

"We could also get some more vegetables."

"We aren't living in the wild, Nate, we don't have to eat raw vegetables from the ground," Wade groused.

"You can cook them," Nate told him, and Wade made an offended noise. "I'll cook them."

This is my favorite fucking headcanon, that Wade is wildly offended by the fact that Nate wants to make him eat shit that grew in dirt, and Nate is wildly disgusted that Wade eats so much processed garbage when planet earth isn’t even fucked yet and there’s so much actually healthy naTURAL ORGANIC FRUITS AND VEGETABLES JUST BEING UNAPPRECIATED

-

"Are you really serious about all this stuff?" Wade questioned, rubbing his fingers over the warm edge of his mug. "Staying? Having actual home cooked meals?"

I’M YELLINGGGGG THOOOO. We did it, folks, we achieved domestic bliss. Nate finally stopped being an asshole towards the idea of basically accepting the fact that Wade is his new pseduo-wife. I feel like Nate would never fully admit it, but he misses that domestic shit, too. It’s written all over him, way back at the start when Wade was like, ‘Nessa is gone and there’s no rules and aaa :c’ and let things get messy and Nate was like,,, clean up your shit or I will HURT you. They both need structure. Routine. Stability. But they also need kindness. Softness. Consideration. Affection. They’ve both been robbed of the domestic lives they once had, their little escapes away from constant fighting and bloodshed. They are the only two people who really understand what the other one is going through. The outside world is cruel, and especially chaotic in their current timeline, and other people don’t get them and don’t want to because they don’t have time to. Wade and Nate are both realizing that they don’t need to keep putting up walls and playing tough and emotionless when it’s just the two of them. They can care about each other and the world isn’t going to end. They can give the other affection, and it will be appreciated.  And they are both so, so starved for affection. The sequel is focused on them working on this, especially, and it’s summed up pretty nicely at the start: 

They were just allowed to be two people. Not 'Cable', not 'Deadpool'. Just Nate and Wade and whatever the heck that meant.

-

“I’m staying.”

“Why?”

"I like you," Nate said. "I like hearing your voice, and knowing you're here. You're the only person that I feel like myself with. But so far I've been nothing but an assshole. If I leave now, that's all I'll ever be to you. That's not who I am. That's not who I want to be."

"I don't think you're an asshole," Wade said. "If you're staying then I'm happy."

"Looks like you're not getting rid of me so easily, then," Nate said. "I just want you to be happy."

-

Nate was determined to convince Wade that vegetables were worth eating by making a vegetarian meal. His one mistake was announcing his plan. Wade, of course, responded by lying down on the kitchen floor in protest.

"Get off the floor, Wade. You're getting dirty."

"Vegetables grow in dirt!"

"Fuck's sake," Nate muttered, but he was too stubborn to drag Wade off the floor and Wade was too stubborn to get up, so he just stepped over him while he made dinner.

I’m living. I’m alive and I’m thriving in the dirt like carrot.

-

"You're fucking filthy. Go wash your hands."

Wade tripped over himself getting to his feet. "Love it when you talk dirty to me."

This banter, oh my god.

Fun fact: Originally, ‘XO’ and the sequel, Untouchable, were completely unrelated ideas that just happened to be based on the exact same premise: Wade and Nate being roommates. Halfway through this fic, I was getting pretty depressed by the angst and was like, ‘OKAY, SAME PREMISE BUT THIS TIME THEY’RE BASICALLY MARRIED’ and started writing a fic based more on (imo) comics Cablepool, where they know each other better, and it can be sillier, and Nate is a little less of a clenched up butthole at all times. Partway into that fic, I realized there was very little reason why they couldn’t be the same exact fic. So I went back through what I’d written so far in ‘XO’ and added pieces of softer, sillier stuff, and more touches of flirting, in order to make it easier to transition so it wasn’t going from ‘Nate is a fucking asshole’ to ‘now Nate is soft and makes cookies uwu’.  He is the same. damn. man. and y’all are just gonna have to cope!

Nate: Yes I’m an asshole. Yes I love Wade Yes I cook him food while wearing an apron and threatening to stab him if he tries to grope me. I exist. Yes I’m going to fuck him with an inch of his life, soon.

Oh boy.

-

"You get the glue, I'll handle the glitter," Wade said, making Nate snort softly.

"That I can do."

THIS IS AN ELABORATE METAPHOR. Because.... Nate... is like the glue... keeping Wade together and grounded.... and Wade... is the sparkly glitter.... sparkling. Okay. Bad joke.

-

On the kitchen counter, he found one of his little pink sticky notes.

X-Nerds mission. Don't wait up. Left money for pizza.

And then, towards the bottom, in tiny print:

xo

OH WOW I COMPLETELY FORGOT NATE DID WRITE WADE ANOTHER NOTE AND IT WAS AN ACTUAL LOVE NOTE THIS TIME BC I SIGNED IT WITH ‘XO’ LMFAO HOW DID I FORGET I LITERALLY TITLED MY FIC ‘XO’ I LOVE MY MEMORY LOSS SOMETIMES WHAT THE FUCK 

I still need to let Nate do this like.... 1,000 more times, kthnx. ♥♥♥

And that’s it kiddos thanks for suffering with me.

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer (10/11)

Title: Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer Summary: Brooke Lynn is a graduate student anxiously embracing her new position as her favorite dance professors’ new TA. Vanessa is a sophomore dance major who just might make her way into being more than the teacher(assistant)’s pet. (lesbian/university AU) Word Count: ~2.5k (this chapter)/~26.3k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Vanessa ‘Vanjie’ Mateo/Brooke Lynn Hytes) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch.5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9

“We shouldn’t have to do work right before break,” Vanessa whined, head down on her desk. It was the last college writing class before Thanksgiving break, and her last class period, leaving her with no motivation.

“Considering how much we pay for tuition, we better get our money’s worth,” Yvie replied casually, “Are you having trouble with it?” she turned slightly, better facing her classmate.

Vanessa nodded, lower lip jutting out in a pout. “It don’t make sense, write about communication that doesn’t involve talking. Talking is the only way I communicate, and I do it a lot,” she explained.

“I’ve noticed,” Yvie chuckled. “Just go for something obvious, you know? Write about something like love languages,” she suggested, then looked at Vanessa’s blank stare before continuing. “Love languages are the different types of ways people express affection. Obviously, yours is verbal. Not just in general, but like, with Brooke Lynn. All your big romantic gestures involve words – the main reason everyone picked up on you guys was your inability to ever shut up about her.”

This caused Vanessa to blush and look down, tapping her pen against the paper. “So, what are the other types?”

“Physical’s one,” Yvie shrugged. “For some people, it’s going out of their way to spend time with someone, others best communicate affection through gifts, or some people do it through like, going out of their way to help someone with tasks,” she added. “And next time I’m charging you for doing your work for you so—” she realized Vanessa had brightened up and started scribbling fervently. “Okay then.”

By that afternoon, Vanessa and Brooke Lynn had officially finished and were ready to enjoy Thanksgiving break together. Vanessa had gone right to Brooke’s apartment after class, finding her curled up on the couch and saddling up to her side. “Is there anything else we have to do before tomorrow?”

Brooke shrugged and wrapped her arm around her. “No, but I was thinking…maybe we could go shopping? I wanna get you a nice new outfit for tomorrow,” she was hesitant in her suggestion, not wanting to create tension again.

But to her surprise, Vanessa smiled and nodded. “Yeah, alright.”

“Wow, I was expecting an argument on that,” Brooke admitted with a laugh. “Maybe you’ll let me take you to a salon tomorrow, get our hair done before we head over to your aunt’s,” she hummed.

“Well, I learned something today,” Vanessa smiled. “And I realized you don’t keep trying to buy things for me or pamper me because you feel sorry for me or you think you need to take care of me. That’s just your way of showing me you love me. And I should appreciate it a little more,” she explained.

This did admittedly take Brooke Lynn by surprise, but it touched her. “That’s so profound,” she hummed. “But I guess you’re right. That’s always been the Hytes family way of showing affection. And I know I don’t say enough about how important you are to me, and I guess that’s something I need to work on too,” she mused.

Vanessa grinned and kissed her cheek. “Look at us. We’re such mature adults in a relationship. Now let’s go get some nice clothes so I can make my mommy proud.”

----------

Brooke Lynn stared into the mirror after she finished her makeup. She was nervous – was it too much? Too little? Did it go with her clothes? Should she wear earrings, or would it be over the top? “What time is your aunt expecting us, Vanjie?” she asked, deciding on small stud earrings to put in.

“It’s called for four, which means she’s probably expecting us at like, five. But that’s not happening,” Vanessa replied with a laugh. “My mom’s taking the air train from JFK, so…” she furrowed her brows in thought. “Her flight gets in around three, and she’s taking the train from Jamaica to Penn Station and taking the A train over to her apartment…that’ll get her there by a quarter after four without delays,” she explained, then looked over at Brooke. “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“…I don’t know, but now I’m horny,” she answered.

Vanessa laughed and nudged her playfully. “Shut up. We’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow,” she assured and pulled her coat on.

The subway ride was the most nerve-wracking one Brooke Lynn had ever been on. She was sure Vanessa had been saying something to her, and she just hoped it wasn’t anything important, because she couldn’t have listened if she tried, her mind lost in an anxiety-induced haze.

It was bad enough that Vanessa had to yank her off of the subway when they got to the stop. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Look, I know this is like…a big deal, but I wouldn’t keep you home from Canada if I didn’t think we were ready for this,” she smiled and squeezed her hand, holding it the whole way of the five minute walk to the apartment, and up the two flights of stairs to the door.

“¡Hola mija!” a woman – presumably her aunt – hugged Vanessa tightly. “And you must be Brooke Lynn, how nice to meet you,” she beamed, hugging her with the same enthusiasm and ushered the two girls inside, taking their coats and tossing them into the closet. “Oh, everyone is so excited to see you, Vanessa. And we’ve heard so much about you, Brooke Lynn,” the woman was so sweet, so bubbly and kind that Brooke couldn’t help but feel at ease as they were led into the living room.

There were seven or eight other people, all talking and laughing, but their attention was immediately diverted to the girls. They all got up at once, greeting them, introducing themselves to Brooke, who smiled warmly as she greeted each member of Vanessa’s family.

And sure enough, at a quarter after four, Vanessa’s mother arrived. Vanessa ran to her and hugged her tight before bringing her over to Brooke Lynn. “And this is Brooke Lynn, the girl I told you about.”

Brooke Lynn took a deep breath – this was what she had been practicing for. “Es un placer conocerte. Tu hija me ha tratado muy bien, estoy feliz de poder ver de dónde viene,” her pronunciation was a little stilted, but she had managed to get the phrase out without any errors, Vanessa and her mom both nodding in approval. “Oh, thank god. I’ve been practicing all night,” she whispered to Vanessa.

“I know, I didn’t fall asleep til two thanks to you,” Vanessa retorted at normal volume with a laugh.

Vanessa’s mom looked between them with a surprised expression. “Oh! You two are…sharing a room?”

“What, like we’re supposed to believe Vanessa is staying in that crappy dorm room instead of with the Victoria’s Secret angel?” one of her cousins chimed in with a knowing smirk.

“As long as that crappy dorm still costs money!” her mom retorted, causing Vanessa to look guilty because her cousin was right – she hadn’t slept in her dorm room in weeks.

“That’s why she’s going to move in with me next semester,” Brooke blurted out. Even though suggesting it the last time had led to an argument, maybe now Vanessa would see why it made more sense than continuing to pay for a room she didn’t use.

“What?” the three Mateos questioned in unison.

Brooke swallowed thickly, eyes darting around. “I-It’s just financially logical, you know? Think of how much money she’d save on room and board. And uh…when she starts working again, she can start contributing to the rent!”

Vanessa chewed on her lip and looked down. “That’s actually a really good point,” she mumbled, then stood upright. “It’s a better option…I should’ve taken it the first time she offered,” she admitted. No one could add anything further, because dinner was called, and everyone gathered into the dining room and took their seats. Grace was said in Spanish, so Brooke Lynn just mouthed along, trying not to get distracted by how good the food smelled. Then, dinner went underway, and the room refilled with the vibrant energy it’d had before.

“Ay, Vanessa, do you ever feed this girl?” her aunt laughed, gesturing to the fact that Brooke Lynn had hardly stopped to speak since she began eating, practically keeping on par with Vanessa’s brothers, both of whom looked like football players.

Brooke blushed fiercely, pausing to finish the forkful in her mouth. “Sorry, uh, the food is delicious Mrs.—”

“Oh, no, please, call me Maria,” she insisted, cutting her off. “And thank you, querida,” she smiled.

Brooke Lynn could easily say this has been the best Thanksgiving she ever had, but it was also the first one, not counting the ‘friendsgiving’ parties she’d partaken in over the course of her undergrad. She had never experienced such love and light and warmth confined to a nine hundred square-foot apartment. This wasn’t to say she didn’t enjoy time with her own family, but in a way, it felt like she fit right in here too.

Once dinner had finished, Brooke Lynn had started to assist in cleaning up when one of Vanessa’s brothers tapped her shoulder. “You got a minute?”

“Sure,” Brooke smiled pleasantly and followed him out to the balcony. She rests her arms on the railing, looking out at the city landscape with a content sigh. “What’s up, Jose?” she turned back to face him.

Jose was leaning against the wall as he lit a cigarette, taking a drag before joining Brooke Lynn against the railing. “Listen, I know this is the part where I’m supposed to threaten you if you hurt my sister, but it doesn’t feel right because, you know…”

“Because you don’t want to threaten a girl?”

“No, not that. I’ve threatened Vanessa’s girlfriends before. But I don’t think you’re like them,” he explained, taking another drag before offering the cigarette to Brooke.

“No thanks, I’m still using the gum to ween off that,” she chuckled dryly. “I like to think I’m not like them either. Sometimes I’ll be talking to her and realize that she must not have been treated right in the past. Breaks my heart, you know what a good person she is,” she added softly. “I wouldn’t be offended if I haven’t earned your trust yet.”

Jose shrugged. “I don’t trust no one but my mama. But I can see how happy you make her, how much she means to you. That, and you haven’t been scared off yet, so, I gotta respect you for that,” he mused.

Brooke Lynn beamed warmly. “Thank you,” she hummed, turning so her back was propped against the railing instead, elbows resting on the ledge. “I don’t think anything can scare me off at this point. Think I’m in it for the long haul, you know?”

“You in love with her?”

“Yeah,” Brooke’s tone was soft, shy. She and Vanessa had said ‘I love you’ to each other so many times, but confirming she was in love with her, especially to someone like her brother, felt all the more intimate. She stood silently for a moment, trying to recall the other Spanish phrases she had taught herself. “Creo que…algún día…podría casarme…con ella,” she spoke slowly, brows knitted in thought and hands gesticulating as she did.

Jose looked at her, mildly stunned. “You know you just said that you—”

“I know what I said.”

He nodded and clasped her shoulder. “Entonces tienes mi bendición, Brooke Lynn,” he gave her shoulder a squeeze before he put out the cigarette in an ash tray before they walked back inside.

“Where y’all been?” Vanessa asked from the couch, holding a mug between both her hands and sipping from it.

Brooke shrugged and smiled as she sat back down with Vanessa, kissing her cheek. “Just having a little chat, baby,” she hummed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, gently caressing her cheek in the process. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” she glanced over to see Jose whispering animatedly in Spanish, but it was too fast and quiet for her to even attempt to translate it.

By the time things were winding down, the girls were getting their things together to leave. Maria insisted on sending them back with containers of leftovers, and neither of them had any interest in rejecting it. They both said goodbye to everyone, making promises to visit again as soon as their schedules allowed for it.

As they walked down the street to the subway, Vanessa turned to Brooke Lynn. “You still not gonna tell me what you and Jose talked about?”

Brooke shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. And…sorry about springing the moving in thing on you, I was just trying to save face for both of us.”

“It’s fine,” Vanessa assured. “You was right, it’s not like I’m trying to mooch off of you, we’re just…a couple moving in together. It’s uh…what’s it called…mutually beneficial,” she hummed. “Besides, it’s a hell of a lot harder to fuck in that twin bed.”

“Exactly,” Brooke giggled. “I really do like your family. I’ve never had a holiday quite like that before,” and it was true, her family and Vanessa’s were wildly different, but she enjoyed both in their own ways. And when the time comes, she would bring Vanessa up north to meet her family as well. Had this been anyone else, she would have run away by now. This was moving fast for her – it had only been three months, after all. But it didn’t seem to matter as long as they were this happy.

“Do you think your mom liked me?” Brooke asked as they got inside the apartment. “She seemed so nice, but did she say anything to you?”

Vanessa let out a soft laugh as she hung up her coat and toed out of her shoes. “She adores you, boo. Everyone does. Not that I ever expected anything different,” she assured, walking over to kiss her. “I’ve never taken a girl to a major holiday before, so I guess no one really knew what to expect,” she mused.

They retired to the bedroom soon after, tired, full, and ready for the good night’s sleep they knew was to follow. “Hey Vanjie?” she asked as they lay in quiet darkness.

Vanessa stirred slightly. “Hm?”

“How do you say, ‘I love you’ in Spanish?”

Vanessa smiled warmly. “Te amo,” she yawned, her eyes staying closed.

“Te amo,” Brooke echoed with a nod. “Is there a way to differentiate that from ‘I’m in love with you’?” she asked after another moment.

This time, Vanessa opened her eyes and looked at her, the lights of the city peeking through the blinds giving her just enough light to see her face. “Do you?”

Brooke beamed, gently carding her fingers through Vanessa’s hair. “I do,” she answered.

“Then all you need to know is that the feeling is mutual,” she hummed before passing right back out for the night.

[spiderread]

Heartbreak - T.H.

a/n: this is probably one of the greatest fics I've ever made, even though I'm not too happy with the ending. this is inspired by Deadpool two by the way. in the scenes where wade “almost” dies and meets Vanessa in the “afterlife”. 

oh and, also I'm still on for smut Saturday tomorrow/today (its 1am here lol) even though I have the sleepover. so go check out my sleepover post and spam my askbox with whatever you want :)

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angst mutherfuckerrr and also typos and shit lmao.

summary: tom gets into an accident and meets you in the afterlife.

He felt like... falling? How was that? Tom couldn't feel or see anything, or do anything at all for that matter. It just felt like he was a bodiless soul without ant senses, just a floating mind in a pitch black room. Even though he couldn't feel anything he still had this sense of familiarity. Like when you're falling off a building in a dream. You've never actually fallen from such height, but your mind makes up this feeling that you kinda just know you would feel if you were falling. A sense of panic, fright and tenseness, your body just freezes because it doesn't really know what to do with itself.

For some reason he didn't remember anything before this, his mind was completely blank. everything was happening now and that's all that could seem to get stuck in his mind. Everything else was just a pitch black memory of other bodiless souls he couldn't seem to remember anything of.

All this, yet he knew why he was here. Here. What was really here? tom didn't know, he didn't think he would ever find out either. all he knew was that this was important. This was it. Something had happened and he was here for a reason.

-

"We need to get him to the OR immediately!"

"Luckily, he was the only one hurt in the accident. The truck driver only has a few scratches."

"Apparently he was drunk."

"I need more blood!"

"We need to put him in a medically induced coma."

-

Bang! His body landed on the ground. It didn't hurt. tom had a body now. He was no longer a bodyless soul floating around. Everything seemed to be fine except for his short-term memory loss and being able to physically feel anything. Only God knows where he was now.

Wait! This was his apartment. His old one that is. The one he had shared with her. Her. God, he missed her. Now he lived in an old and dirty apartment in a shady neighbourhood. He was pretty sure it was a fungus that was growing in the bottom right corner of his shower.

He rose to his feet. The apartment felt like home. It had brighter colours and it was cleaner. Way cleaner. He missed that place so much. He hated living the way he did, but after he lost his job, that was the only thing he could afford. He had to wear shoes and a coat inside because the heating system was broken, and the janitor hadn't really done anything about it. He was eating cereal out of frying pans, for god's sake! How could he not miss that place?

But there was something wrong with the place. Something was missing. No... there was one thing too much in here. He turned around. There. A mirror. It covered the whole wall of the apartment. Tom walked over to it out of curiosity. Should he touch it? What bad could come out of it? So he touched it. But when his fingers touched the mirror it didn't stop. Instead, it just let his finger go right through it. Then his entire hand, then his arm and suddenly his entire body went through what he had thought was a mirror. Now he wasn't so sure anymore.

Everything was the same here. except... there she was. Right in from of him, sitting on the couch reading her favourite book. Her glasses sitting perfectly at the bridge of her nose as her brows furrowed in concentration. He let himself smile for a second as he stared at her. A tear threatened to escape from the corner of his eye before he finally caught himself and went back to being confused and disoriented.

"This has got to be some sort of dream." He whispered to himself as he tried to think his way back to reality. He was just waiting to wake up in his old shitty apartment like he always did. But nothing happened. Instead, her head shot up and she made eye contact with him. She smiled.

"Took you long enough." She said as she put away her book and took of her glasses. She got up from the couch and rushed over to tom. He was caught by surprise when she jumped into his arms at first, but it only took his body a second to react. He reached under her thighs and lifted her up. She connected her feet behind his back as they hugged each other so high he thought he was gonna kill you. But that wouldn't matter... he couldn't even think of it.  She suddenly leaned back a little from his embrace, just enough to look him in the eyes. "What took you so long?"

"I'm so sorry," he started crying, his voice breaking with every word. "I just missed you so much." He half sobbed half smiled. God, he had missed her. Her smell, the way her eyes would sparkle every time something shiny would hit the reflection of her eye. It gave him some sort of hope. And he was starting to let himself hope again.

"Hey, hey, hey. Shhhh. It's ok baby." She assured him as she stroked his chin with her thumb like he used to do with her when she was upset. "I'm here now."

Finally, they kissed. It felt like ages since it had happened last time. Probably because it had been ages since it happened. He felt her soft lips move against him as they tried to hold each other as close as possible. Yet it felt like he wasn't close enough like there was some sort of invisible wall between them.

He sat her down again and they let go of each other for a second. Their foreheads were touching as they looked at each other. Tom couldn't stop smiling as he touched her soft skin. But there was something wrong, he could see it on her face. She wasn't smiling like he knew she would if they had met each other in real life. She was frowning, her eyes getting wet as if she had just realised something awful. And he was right. She had.

"It's not the time for you." She said not even looking him straight In the eyes. She backed away a little.

"What? What do you mean it's not the time for me?" Tom was confused. All he ever dreamed of was being with you, and now that he was, you didn't want to. "No. I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you again."

"Your time is not out yet. It's not your time to go." She finally looked at him again. She was heartbroken. And so was he. Again. "Don't worry. I'll be here. Waiting for you." She tried to lighten the mood by smiling but it didn't really help. He could already feel his half-healed heart, break into even smaller pieces than they had the first time.

"I don't understand, what-" he was cut short when she kissed him again. This time with even more force, like as if she knew she wouldn't see him again for a while. It sent sparks through his entire body. It felt like fireworks had entered his body and pumped through his veins and all the way into his heart before they exploded. He wanted it to last forever.

But it didn't. Because not even a second later he felt her hand on his chest as she pushed him with almost inhuman force until he fell through the mirror behind him.

This time, instead of falling on the floor of the apartment on the other side or falling in the pitch black room, he woke up in an unfamiliar room. And this time he could feel everything. Both emotional and physical pain. And it hurt so much. So damn much.

on the left, he could hear a machine making peeping noises but he couldn't focus on anything else than the fact that this was his reality and she would never come back to that. He tried to pinch himself but nothing worked. He just had to realise that this was it. This was what he was gonna get, and was gonna have to live with it for the rest of his life. And all he could do was whisper one small word as he felt his life crumble underneath him.

"No."

[care-devil]

The Man Without Fear, Not the Man Without Love

“No man is an island.”

And this is exactly what season 3 showed us.

This third season contained clear hints at Frank Miller’s The Man Without Fear, the most obvious one being Matt using these terms in his eulogy to Father Lantom’s in 3x13, as most of you noticed:

“He counseled me to transcend my fears, to be brave enough to forgive and see the possibilities of being a man without fear.” 

Fear can stem from a lot of different things: fear of failure, fear of success, fear of opening up to someone, fear of losing someone... Utimately fear has to do with one’s deepest scars. I think that in Matt’s case, it’s a mix of all of those, and more. But fear was counterbalanced, or rather worked hand in hand with another motif: the motif of love, whether it be romantic, friendly, or family related.

Love was omnipresent this season, notably through these couples:

Foggy & Marci 

Melvin & Betsy 

Nadeem & Seema 

Fisk & Vanessa 

Matt & Karen hold a special status as they were the only ones who were not really paired up, as they broke up in season 2. That’s why I will argue that the love all around them was used as a foil that pointed to their own relationship, past, present and future.

1) An overarching pattern

Foggy & Marci stand for reassurance, comfort, understanding, COMMUNICATION. And this might sound paradoxical, and you might disagree, but... I would say that Matt & Karen are actually good at this. At the beginning of season 3, there’s a LOT of things left unsaid, there’s been a lot of lying as well, on both parts, but when these two are together, they are often on the same page. And it’s because they’re so similar that things sometimes get ugly. But consider this: Marci is always comforting Foggy, calling him Foggy-Bear, caring about his well being. While Matt & Karen don’t have any nicknames for each other (this might be a fic prompt), they do reassure, comfort each other. A few examples:

1x01: they just met, Matt promises her he’ll keep her safe.

1x12: Matt tells Karen everything’s gonna work out, and then, in an other scene, she gives him THE hug.

1x13: Matt tries to get her to tell him what’s been up with her, but Karen doesn’t open up. He comforts her nonetheless.

2x02: Karen tells Matt he can tell her anything, and that he’s “worth keeping around.”

3x11: Karen tells Matt she’s not leaving him.

3x12: Matt tells Karen her mistakes don’t define her.

3x13: Matt tells Karen he’s happy she told him about Wesley and her brother.

These two, despite keeping SO MUCH to themselves and from each other, are always here for each other. I mean, the balloon??? Anyone?? Plus, when they’re brainstorming about a case, especially in season 2, they agree, they back each other up (except when Matt’s afraid for Karen’s safety... But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think her ideas are that bad). There’s a kinship between them, something easy and natural, that is reminiscent of Foggy and Marci. And this aspect overarches all three seasons, and will continue.

2) The Past: Cutting All Ties

At the beginning of season 3, Matt’s still haunted by Stick’s teachings, and this is part of his struggle as a man who’s also supposed to be a warrior. Matt is a character torn between his will to love, let people in, and his fear of losing them. In addition, he’s also on a mission, and Stick’s advice was of course meant to keep him focused on the greater good, their common goal, but I’d like to think that Stick also thought of Matt’s own “well being” as well as his friends’. I think that, to him, cutting all ties was an act of mercy. But it all ended the same way: with Matt alone, and bloody.

Here’s what Stick told Matt in 1x07:

“Cut it loose, all of it. Cut yourself free from the women, the comforts, the fancy job. [...] Do you have friends? People you care about? [...] Cut 'em loose, for their sake. Break their hearts if you have to, just do it quick.” 

And here’s what Matt told Melvin... in 3x07:

"Fisk will know. And he'll hurt Betsy. If you really loved her, you'd cut her loose. This life doesn't work with Betsy's.” (27′58′‘)

This CANNOT be a coincidence: 1x07 ==> 3x07, and the very same words...? This is definitely a parallel to season 1 and Stick’s teachings. Here, we’re halfway through the season, and Matt JUST “reconnected” with Karen, but he’s not exactly been warm and friendly. He contacted her because he needed her help. Granted, he could’ve gone to anyone, and this was a first step to come back into her life... but I think that at this point, he wasn’t so sure about what would happen next. Would he stick around? Would he let them both go? Would he “cut’em loose” to protect them? When Matt tells this to Melvin, I think he actually believes that this is the right thing to do, both for Melvin, and for him.

3) The Present: To Hell with the Lies

The present is embodied by Ray & Seema, as well as Foggy & Marci. And these are two very different dynamics.

The main correlation between Ray & Seema and Matt & Karen is the lying part. Ray and Matt lie to the people they love most for the same reason: they want to protect them. By keeping the truth from them, they think they can shelter them. But all these lies cause a lot of damage:

Seema: “Do you know why I married you, Ray? It wasn't your good looks or my father's blessing. It was because I believed in my soul that I had found a good man who would love me. And who would be completely honest with me.” 

Ray: “Seems, I do love you-”

Seema: “You lied again and again.”

 (3x12)

Just like Karen isn’t mad about Matt being Daredevil, but rather about all the lies, Seema is not angry at Ray for what he did, I think she gets that. But she’s hurt by his lies. The two pairs are parallaleled here. Loving someone means accepting them as they are, supporting them. But you can’t do that if you’re being lied to. Karen constantly supported Matt. She trusted him. He broke that trust. It’s the lies that broke them up, not Matt’s alias.

4) The Future: Working Hand in Hand

Finally, Vanessa & Fisk seem, to some extent, to foreshadow Matt and Karen’s future. These two will not be the evil couple of the series, but they will be working hand in hand. 

When she got back to NYC, Vanessa felt left out. She wanted to be part of Fisk’s world. To be fully his, and him fully hers. And you can’t do this if you keep your significant other outside of your world, if you shut them out:

Vanessa: “When you stopped your man from speaking in front of me, I I was reminded that I am not a part of your life. Not fully, and so not at all. And this I don't want to admire your world. I want to live inside of it with you.”

Fisk: “Vanessa, it's one thing to know my work, but it's another to dirty your hands with it.”

Vanessa: “My hands were never clean. If you truly want me share your life with me. Fully.”

(3x12)

That’s what Matt tried to do. He tried to keep Karen away, but eventually these two worlds collided and he had to tell her the whole truth. Just like Fisk let Vanessa in, completely, and allowed her to “rule” by his side, making calls, taking decisions. I believe that the show has built up to this, that Matt and Karen will now be working together, sharing everything. It was the last thing they needed to be able to be together, fully. Him revealing he was Daredevil, relying on her for some tasks (Jasper Evans, the press conference) was the beginning of a cooperation between them. Karen telling him all about her past was also a big step, she let him into her world. She needed to do this. 

What’s more, you can see the similarity between the reasons behind Fisk’s decision to keep Vanessa out of his “business” and Matt’s reasons not to tell Karen he was Daredevil: they both want to protect the ones they love from the darkness of their worlds, from what they could become because of it. Matt has put Karen on a pedestal, and even though he denied that, I think he idealized her, just like she idealized him. But they’re the same. They’re equally damaged, they’re both sinners, they’re equals.

To conclude, this might be far-fetched, but that’s the way I see it. This show isn’t about love, but... It’s still a huge part of it if you want my opinion, and this season especially. Love was everywhere. Right when Karen and Matt were broken up and figuring things out. I don’t think this is a coincidence. While watching the season, I truly felt like all these couples, all these quotes were about Karen and Matt, or could be applied to them. And after all, aren’t they now the epic love story of the show...? ;) 

So yeah, no man is an island. Matt cannot be an island, and he realized that. So did Karen. Important secrets, important scars were shared. And the Man Without Fear will definitely not be the Man Without Love. 

[struggling-adultfangirl]

The Weight Is Gone Ch. 4

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary:  Dean and Y/N are friends with benefits, but no one ever said that didn’t come without its complications.

Warnings: I don’t wanna say attempted rape but I can’t think of a nicer way to say it, so its gonna stay that way. If this triggers you do yourself a favor and just skip the bold part.

Word Count: 1,769

“Oops sorry!” You say as you crash into a body. You quickly realize that it’s Vanessa and start walking even faster back to your room.

“Hey, its Y/N right?”

You stop and turn around, “Yeah, hi. Vanessa.” You wave awkwardly.

“Listen, we haven’t had a chance to talk and mainly I think it’s that this place is so big, but I just wanted to say thanks for being so inviting and keeping Dean alive with all of your cooking. Your lasagna the other day was really good.” She took a step towards you and gave you a hug.

“It’s really no big deal? I’ve always liked cooking and it’s really nice to have someone to cook for. It helps that both Sam and Dean eat enough food to feed a small army.”

“Yeah I’ve seen,’ she laughs, ‘Well it was really nice seeing you and I hope we can get along better in the future.” She hugs you again and starts walking back to Deans room. You’re standing in the middle of the hallway confused and on the verge of a panic attack. She really thinks that you and Dean are just friends and in a messed up way she is right. Dean has never hinted at wanting anything from you other than sex. You shook your head as if to rid yourself of the thought and walked back into your room. After spending some time in your room bored out of your mind you decided to look for Sam to see if he could offer any entertainment.

“Hey Sammy, are you busy?” You asked as you pushed his door open.

Sam looked up from his computer, “Hey Y/N. Whats going on?” You took off your shoes and moved to sit next to him on his bed, “Dean is here with his girl again and I’m bored.”

“Is she the reason for the boredom?”

“No just trying to avoid her and frying my brain on the internet is not the best way to spend my time. I need human interaction.”

Sam laughed, “Want to watch a movie with me? It still fries your brain, but you get to watch it with company.” He shrugged.

“Yeah lets do it.” He nods and starts the movie. After the movie is over you head into the kitchen and get snacks for you and Sam and start another. This continues until you both fall asleep. You wake up around 2 am uncomfortably hot, Sams arm was around your waist and his hair tickling your neck. You push his arm off of you, close the laptop, and start heading in the direction of your room.

You felt as if you had just fallen asleep when you start feeling a hand brushing your hair back. “What?”

“Shh, hey sweetheart it’s just me” Dean whispered.

“Whats going on?”

“Missed you, wanted to see if I could sleep with you” and you feel your heart stop in your chest. Dean had always made you feel special even when you knew that he was just using you, but this was a new low, he had never made you feel like a thing. Sensing your panic he rephrased what he said, “Not like that, just really wanna sleep. With you. Just cuddle.”

You nodded yes and lifted the blankets so he could get under. Once he got settled you turned to look at him. “Did Vanessa leave?” Dean doesn’t immediately answer and kisses you instead. “Dean? Did she leave?”

“No,’ he nuzzles your neck, ‘she’s in my room, but it’s not the same. You’re better, always better’ and he moves to kiss you again. This shouldn’t be happening, it’s not fair. Vanessa really believes that you and Dean are friends and while you may love him with all of your heart Dean does not deserve to have to women at his beck and call. You try to push him away and he pushes against you even harder. His kisses get more fierce and his hands are skirting on the bottom of your top, “Dean we really should not be doing this.” He ignores you in favor of sucking a hickie on your neck. “Dean?” He mumbles something along the lines of ‘every things fine’ and starts pushing your shirt up. “Dean stop!” You yell pushing at his shoulder and jumping out of the bed as best you could. Your leg gets caught on the blanket and you fall face first on the floor but at least you’re away from Dean. “Dean this isn’t okay and you need to go!” You’re almost hysterical now and on the verge of tears. Dean is looking at you confused not quite sure of what is going on, before he can say something to you Sam rushes into the room gun out ready to shoot. “What’s going on in here Y/N are you okay?” You run to Sam with tears already streaming down your face and hug him. “Dean did you do this to her?” Sam demands.

“I didn’t do anything Sammy, just came to talk to Y/N and things got out of hand.” Sam turns to look at you, “Is that true Y/N?”

“Kinda, he said he wanted to sleep with me and that was okay, but it’s not okay. Not what he was trying to do.” That was when Sam spotted the love bite on your neck and suddenly he was furious. “Go to my room okay? I’ll meet you there in a little bit I’m just gonna talk to Dean.”

—

“What the hell Dean! What were you thinking!?”

“Sam I’m sorry I just can’t control myself around her. I thought it was okay and that she was okay with what was happening, but I was wrong. I took it too far and I owe her an apology.”

“You owe her more than that Dean. Your girlfriend is still here! She is less that 50 feet away and you thought Y/N would be okay with you having sex with her. You need to pick one or the other because the way that you’re treating both of them is not fair. Pick one and make sure you’re making the right choice because Y/N wont forgive you easily, especially after tonight.” Sam gave his brother one final look before heading back into his room.

—

You spent the night in Sams room and when you woke up in the morning you were dreading running into Dean again. You heard a soft knock on the door, “Who?”

“It’s me.” Sam said walking slowly into the room. “Wanted to check in and see if you slept well. I know that what happened last night must have been scary and that you probably don’t want to see Dean right now.”

“Yeah, is he here?”

“Actually he was out before I even woke up today. He took Vanessa with him. I talked to him last night and I hope that he made the right decision.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him that it’s not fair to you or Vanessa to have you on retainer for when he gets bored. I told him that he needed to pick one of you. I know I must have over stepped a little because I know you love him Y/N but if you aren’t going to be his only choice maybe it’s time for you to move on. For your sake.”

“You’re right Sam… It’s going to be hard, but I can’t live like this anymore. I’m hiding from a woman in my own home and no one should live like that.” He gives you a hug before heading out of the room.

—

The rest of the morning was fairly silent and you mostly did chores and processed what had happened the night before. Sure Dean may have not meant to hurt you, but he did and you were going to have to talk to him about it. As soon as you had maid that decision Dean walked into the bunker. “Hey Y/N, can we talk?”

You put down the book you had just picked up, “Yeah sure. What about?”

“Not here… wanna grab a bite with me so we can talk.” You knew that he was nervous to be talking in the bunker when Sam was here and that food would make it easier for both of you to talk about your feelings. “Sure let me just grab a jacket.”

—

The car ride was silent. You didn’t talk when he arrived at the diner, didn’t talk when you ordered your food and didn’t talk when the waitress brought you your coffee. You didn’t know where to start and you also wanted an apology. You were staring at your coffee until Dean cleared his throat. “I wanted to start by saying that I’m sorry about what I did last night and that I am no longer with Vanessa.”

“Were you ever really with her?” You bite back before taking a drink from your coffee.

“No I guess not. I can’t say that we were in a relationship when the entire time I was thinking about being with you instead.” You look up when you hear that, “I thought that if I separated the two, me wanting to be in a relationship with you and what worked well, us being friends with benefits, I wouldn’t hurt you. I know that this life we chose doesn’t come with a lot of happiness and when you finally find it something always manages to ruin it. I didn’t want to admit to myself that me and you could be something because that would make it real and if its real that means someone can use it against me. All of that doesn’t matter in the long run though, because I ended up being the person that ruined it, I lost you and broke your trust all in one night.”

“Dean,’ you sigh, ‘I love you okay? I love you so much that I was willing to be your other woman just to have something with you, but I don’t know if I can forgive you for what happened last night. You’ve never treated me like that and it scared me.”

“Y/N I’m so sorry for the way that I acted last night and I want you to know that it will never happen again. Sweetheart I would die before I let anything bad happen to you and if you’re willing, I’d like a chance to prove it to you.

Fic Tags: @1967-chevy-impala-called-roscoe @havlindzk

Hey so this took a lil bit to get done due to getting caught up in doing homework and listening to a fuck ton of latin trap music. (Please don’t ask, it’s a story I can’t even explain.) ANYWAYS... let me know what you think and as always feedback makes the world go round.