#and as for the greasy hair comment i will fight the next person who says people with greasy hair shouldn't wash it everyday

[depoteka]

two worst things you can read under a post about hair care on instagram:

"don't wash your hair everyday!!! train it into becoming less greasy"

"you might have curly hair 🥰 try the curly girl method"

[whatsnewalycat]

Designated Person | 10

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Chapter 10: Flat Tire

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 6.9k+ (nice)

Tags / Warnings: reader pov, infidelity, past romantic & sexual relationship, angst, food & eating, blackout, movie references, car problems, alcohol & alcoholism, 12-step programs, lying, conflict avoidance, crying crying crying sorry, internal conflict, monologue, toxic relationships but listen we're tryna get better, journal entries, nightmares, ptsd, flashback

Notes: WHAT UP PARTY PEOPLE?? MAKE SOME NOIIIISE (insert dallas buyers club matthew mcconaughey scream crying in his car). Sorry for being a bummer lol sometimes growth hurts but we're gonna get thru this I swear. Ok thank u let me know what you think!!!

[ Previous Chapter ][ Series Masterlist ][ My Masterlist ]

-----

Blackouts work like magic. 

One second you’re perched on a barstool, trying not to sway or slur your words while ordering another drink, and the next you’re jolted awake by the thud of a door closing. 

Heart pounding in your chest, you sit up and look around, breathing a sigh of relief to see you somehow made it to your bedroom last night. 

You grab your phone off the side table, swiping away the missed calls from Frankie and Leah, then discover that you apparently re-downloaded a dating app in your alcohol-induced fugue state. Judging by the number of reply messages in your inbox, you must have hit up every man in the tri-county area who was “looking for a good time.”

Perfect. Of course you did. Why wouldn’t you? Bad decisions and dick has never ever steered you wrong. 

You read one typo-filled exchange between yourself and Russ K, 34, before deactivating the account and uninstalling the app. 

When you set your phone back on the nightstand, you notice a mason jar filled with ice water and frown. Beside it sits a small plastic container holding four neon orange tablets and two white tablets. A sticky note on the table reads ‘Went to a meeting, be back this afternoon’ in Frankie’s handwriting. 

Alarm trickles through your veins and inspires a wave of nausea you can’t ignore. Clasping your hand over your mouth to hold down the rising bile, you jump out of bed and beeline to the bathroom. 

After emptying the sparse contents of your stomach into the toilet, you lean back against the cool tile wall and search the ceiling for answers. How did you get home last night? Did you say anything to Frankie? 

You think about the ice water and over-the-counter pills left on your nightstand, then think about the note Frankie left. However you got home, he must know you were hammered. Which means you definitely interacted with him while blacked out. Do you even want to know what you said to him? 

Mortification twists your stomach when you imagine the possibilities. You could have tried to fuck him or murder him or anything in between. Given how you feel about him right now, it’s impossible to predict. That fact alone makes your mouth start to sweat again. 

So… no, you don’t want to know what you said to him when you were drunk. You don’t want to know how you got home or why the fuck your hair is damp. All you want is to get through this fucking day without hurling again. Maybe greasy food and a NASCAR nap, too. 

With this new clear goal in mind, you pick yourself up off the bathroom floor and set about making your low-stakes dream a reality. 

—

You wake on the couch to the soothing lull of commentators giving a play-by-play of the Rays versus Yankees game. A thick web of fatigue clings to you, fighting against your efforts to open your eyes and sit upright. 

“Hey.” 

Instinctively, you look towards the noise at the other end of the couch, locking eyes with Frankie. His face droops with this wounded expression that gets under your skin. Diverting your gaze to the TV, you cross your arms and try to keep your demeanor aloof despite the deep ache in your chest. 

“How are you feeling?” 

You choke out a humorless laugh and shake your head, keeping your eyes trained on the screen. A few tense seconds go by before he accepts that you will not be answering his ludicrous question, so he takes an alternative approach. 

“I brought home cubanos from that place you like. For, um… for family dinner. If you still wanted to do that.” 

Home, he says, as if the word meant something to him. As if he didn’t match every brick you laid in the foundation of this relationship with paper mache blocks. As if he didn’t take a wrecking ball to whole fucking thing regardless. 

Maybe to him home is just a place he rests his head at night, not where he anchors his heart. A matter of physical location rather than a feeling. You, on the other hand… never felt quite at home in this house until he started living here. 

Are you crazy for having felt like that? Like home was a space you held with him and him alone? 

Your parents were right. You make too much of things. You’re overdramatic. 

Why would he love you? Why would he choose you over his wife? You knew what you were getting into when this started. 

Stupid girl. 

“I understand if you don’t want to, though.” 

His voice brings you back to yourself. You blink hot tears from your eyes, then wipe them from your cheeks, trying to hold yourself together despite the whisper of ‘stupid girl stupid girl stupid girl’ at the back of your head. 

“Can we… can we at least talk about it?” 

You wince as a fresh batch of tears surges up your throat. Rising to your feet, you shake your head and manage to choke out, “Just forget it,” before fleeing to your bedroom. 

—

I slept most of the day yesterday so it took me forever to fall asleep. Also Frankie was walking around the house all night. At 11ish, I heard him talking on the phone, then I think someone picked him up. I texted him to see where he went because I’m unfortunately still his designated person. He said he was with someone from AA and he’d be back soon, just needed to talk. I couldn’t fall asleep until I heard him come in at 1. He wasn’t stumbling around so I’m guessing he was sober??? Hopefully he was. I don’t want this to get in the way of his recovery. Which I sort of hate. I wish I could delete the feelings I have for him. I wish I didn’t care. But I guess I do, so… I don’t know. This fucking sucks. Leah said I should kick him out, but I don’t want to fuck up his program. Maybe I’ll talk to Ralph today and see what he thinks. The thing is… the more people I talk to, the more I just want to talk to Frankie. Nobody makes me feel like he does. More than the lies, this is what bothers me the most. The fact that I can feel this way and he just doesn’t. I don’t understand how he can’t feel it, too. I thought this was real. But I guess I always do. I guess he’s just a really good liar and I am just a stupid girl. 

Tossing the notebook aside, you sit up to grab your mug off the side table. Wisps of steam rise from the coffee and dissolve into the air. The image blurs as a thick, wretched sensation twists up your throat. 

God fucking damnit. 

Every time you think you have no more tears left to cry, you prove yourself wrong. They just keep coming. Yesterday you waded in and out of these sudden fits where crying was all you could do. It reminds you of all the other times he broke your heart, but especially the last time. 

After Angie caught the two of you fucking, part of you hoped that maybe she would leave him. From what you understand, though, he convinced her to stay. Called you a mistake. An ‘isolated incident’ or whatever. Fucking asshole. 

Anyway. 

Seeing each other became logistically and emotionally difficult. Participating in an affair is much easier when it’s still a secret, for obvious reasons. He tried to see you when he could, which wasn’t nearly as frequent as you wanted. When you did see him, he was drunk. You’d pick him up from the bar, or he’d come over after Angie went to bed, but he was always at least five drinks in and counting. 

You bailed him out of jail twice in those six months. Once for drinking and driving, once for getting in a fight over a fucking pool game, of all things. 

He seemed so walled-off from you, too. Like he detached from his emotions when he saw you. Maybe it was because of the liquor, but a million other reasons are just as likely. After sex, he would leave. The sex was… well, it was still good, but… different. Rougher, impersonal. It felt less like making love and more like fucking. 

You still loved him, though. You still had fantasies of having a real, normal relationship with him. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, you still wanted to believe that he was meant to be with you. 

Stupid girl stupid girl stupid girl

And then, well… 

Your phone starts to ring. It’s Ralph. 

You take a few quick sips of your coffee, then set the mug aside to answer. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, kiddo. Do you have a minute?” 

His tone, less jovial than normal, gives you a small burst of anxious energy.

“Sure, what’s up?” 

“I just got off the phone Mr. Morales and he briefed me on the, ahhh… situation over there.” 

Unsure what to say, you fold an arm over your belly and stare down at your lap. 

“I understand that things are a bit tense due to an incident that occurred on Saturday, is that correct?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, voice wavering, “Yeah, I, um… I overheard him talking to Angie, and… well, basically I found out he’s been lying to me.” 

It sounds so pathetic when you say it out loud. 

“Uh-huh. He lied about the nature of his relationship with Mrs. Morales.” 

“Correct.” 

You prepare for Ralph to tell you it’s not a big deal. Brace yourself for the inevitable scoff, or for him to accuse you of overreacting. 

So he lied to you, so what? You knew who he was. You knew he had a family to keep together. You should have known better than to get involved with him. Stupid girl, why would you put yourself in that position in the first place? 

“And this isn’t the first time he lied to you about this particular matter, am I understanding correctly?” 

“Well…” you frown and shake your head, “No, not really. When we were together before, he was pretty explicit that he wouldn’t leave her. I just… I just thought… I don’t know. It’s dumb. I’m fucking dumb.” 

Ralph doesn’t respond right away, so you add, “Sorry. I’m still in my feelings.” 

“Don’t sweat it, I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down,” he pauses here to clear his throat, then recounts, “Before, he told you leaving her wasn’t a possibility. And despite my warning going into this, the two of you re-established your romantic relationship, he told you that kind of relationship was effectively over with his wife. Which wasn’t true.” 

“Correct.” 

“Ok. Got it. Has Mr. Morales exhibited any unusual or suspicious behavior since the incident on Saturday?”

After thinking about it, you tell him, “I wouldn’t call this suspicious exactly, but yesterday he left a note saying he was going to an AA meeting, which isn’t normal. And late last night someone picked him up. I texted him to check in and he said he was with someone from AA, talking.” 

“Do you believe he was being truthful?” 

“Yeah, I do,” you shrug, “I mean, I’m obviously not the best at detecting his bullshit, but I’ve seen him under the influence more times than I can count and he didn’t seem… like that.” 

“Well, that’s good. And it’s good you checked in with him, I take that as a positive. You are still responsible for him while he’s on parole.” He sighs, “Which brings me to my next question. Are you thinking you want to continue serving as his designated person, or should we start looking for alternatives?” 

A lump rises in your throat. You swallow it down, wincing at the tears that burn behind your eyes, “I, um… I’m not sure yet. Can I have a few days to think it over?” 

“Sure. How about this. Why don’t you take some time, maybe go to one of those Al-Anon meetings I told you about, and I can stop by Saturday to have a sit down with you and Mr. Morales. Does that sound agreeable?” 

“Ok,” you nod, “Yeah, that sounds good. We can do that.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll shoot you an email with some details sometime today and we’ll go from there.” 

“Thanks, Ralph.” 

“Call me if anything comes up, ok kiddo?” 

“Will do.” 

After hanging up, you put in a load of laundry and wander around the house, stopping by the fridge to stare at the cubano Frankie brought home for you yesterday. You roll your eyes with annoyance as you grab it, then you return to the couch and put on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. 

—

By the time Frankie comes home, you’re four feature films deep in your angsty post-breakup movie marathon and feeling indignant enough not to surrender the common space to him. 

His eyebrows do this little surprised jump when your eyes meet his, and he glances at the TV, “Reality Bites?” 

You don’t respond, just curl deeper into the couch and return your attention to Ethan Hawke’s spiteful cover of Add It Up.

He kicks off his work boots and walks into the kitchen, coming back a minute later to ask, “If I make something for dinner, will you eat it?” 

Your stomach rumbles at the thought of food. Without looking at him, you shrug. 

Accepting the non-verbal answer, Frankie returns to the kitchen and starts bumbling around, cussing and grumbling under his breath. Eventually, though, he seems to get the hang of it. 

Just as the end credits of Reality Bites start rolling, he enters the living room holding two plates and sets one on the coffee table for you, then takes a seat at the opposite end of the couch. 

You sit up, crossing your legs as you pull the offering into your lap, and toss the remote control to his side of the dividing cushion. He wordlessly searches for something else to watch while you study the avocado-filled hot dog buns. 

“What is this?” you ask. 

“Completo. Hot dog topped with good shit, basically. Avocado, tomato, onion, condiments.” He selects play on Moulin Rouge, then looks at you and shrugs, “Ma would make it for me when I had a bad day.” 

You stare at him for a moment, then roll your eyes and shake your head as you turn to the TV, “I see what you’re doing.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Kissing my ass.” 

He chuckles, shifting a little, “Yeah, well… yeah.” 

The movie starts to play. You don’t mention that this will be the second time you’ve seen it today because he probably knows that. After taking a bite of the completo, you hum at the mix of flavors and textures as you chew. 

“Good, right?” Frankie says through a mouthful. 

“Mmm,” you nod in agreement. 

He swallows, glancing between you and his food before asking, “Can I ask why you haven’t kicked me out yet?”

When you contemplate how to answer, the reasons all snarl into a tight knot of which you can’t quite make heads or tails. 

“No.” 

“Fair enough,” he murmurs, letting his gaze linger on you, “Do you want me to give you some privacy, or…? Because I can go—” 

“It doesn’t matter, Francisco, just stop talking.” 

“Ok, but—” 

You hold your hand up to him, “Shhhhhh.”

He sighs, but accepts the silence. Tension resides in the air at first, but slowly dissipates as you clear your plates, then settle into the couch. And although your eyes stay trained on the screen, you can’t make yourself pay attention. 

You keep wondering why he lied about being with Angie. He’s never had a problem making that clear in the past, even if it meant breaking your heart. Is it because he lives with you? It’s possible he didn’t want to risk getting kicked out, so he kept it a secret. 

Then why get involved with you again? Did he think this was the best way to stay in your good graces? Has he been manipulating you this whole time? 

It’s possible. It’s also possible you’re another one of his bad habits he can’t kick. A coping mechanism. Disposable, like always. 

You remember the night you asked him to come over so you could talk to him about something important. He promised to be there at eight o’clock, which is when you planted yourself on the front porch swing to wait for him. At nine o’clock, his truck came rumbling down the street and parked in front of the house. 

“What’re you doing out here?” he smirked as he climbed the porch steps. 

“Waiting for you,” you glared at him, observing his fluid movements when he plopped down beside you.

“I went and got a drink, lost track of time.” 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and drew your stiff body closer to kiss your cheek.

Something hot flared in your chest, and you distinctly remember wishing he would show up sober for once. This wasn’t the scab you wanted to pick, though. 

He tilted your chin up, pressing his lips to yours, breath heavy with whiskey, then pulled back to frown at your lackluster response. His body swayed a little as he studied you, “What?” 

“I need to talk to you.” 

“Ok,” he leaned away from you with a scoff, “Well, I’m here. Talk to me. Tell me how I fucked up this time.” 

You winced, “Don’t do that.” 

Crossing his arms, he stared at you, all fucking wobbly and drunk, irritation folding his facial features. He shrugged, “Do what?” 

“That! You’re being an asshole.” 

“Oh, I’m being an asshole?” he mocked, “How’s that?” 

Rage simmered beneath your skin. You let out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking your head as tears pooled in your eyes. After taking a moment to gather yourself, you spit out, “Do you love me?” 

“Do I—?” he furrowed his brow like he didn’t understand, shifting in his seat, “Do I love you?” 

“Yes, Frankie. Do you fucking love me or not?” 

His indignation melted. Shoulders slumping, gaze going soft. He swallowed hard and looked out at the street as if searching for an escape hatch. Emergency brake. Make it stop. 

“Because I love you. I’ve been in love with you for so long… and-and I still don’t know what the fuck I am to you.” 

He seemed frozen, staring at something a million miles away without sparing a reaction. 

Nine months later, you can still feel the frantic vibration of your bones when you moved closer and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. When his eyes met yours, they were so cold and vacant that you barely recognized him. You tried to get through anyway. 

“I need you right now, Frankie. But I need all of you. I can’t be on the back burner anymore. I need you to be with me or I need to let you go.” 

“You know I can’t do that. I can’t be with you, not like that.” 

“But you could, though. You could. We could do this, we could make it work, start a life together—”

“I won’t leave her,” he shook his head, “I have a family—goddamnit, you knew what this was when it started.”

You sobbed, letting your hands fall away from his face, and his eyelids fluttered with the ghost of an emotion that you didn’t understand. 

He started, “I don’t—” then paused, tapping his clamped lips. His bloodshot eyes flicked around the porch and settled a million miles away again, “I don’t love you.” 

With this declaration, he took his chisel to you, lined it up in just the right spot, and gave it one firm tap. You crumbled at his feet. Shattered into dust. 

He got up and drove off while you were still bawling on the front porch swing. 

Onscreen, Toulouse-Lautrec shouts, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return!” 

It hits you square in the chest. 

With tears brimming your eyelids, you jump up and flee to your bedroom before he can see them. 

—

Terrible nights sleep. Every time I drifted off, I was in the bedroom at my parents house but it wasn’t in my parents house. He was there but he wasn’t there. I don’t know how to explain it. I felt his presence but knew it wasn't him. I kept my eyes closed because I was scared to see, but I could hear him getting closer and closer. When I opened my eyes I woke up. The feeling stuck to me. It took me forever to fall back asleep and when I did it started over. 

Frankie didn’t go to work this morning. I don’t think he slept well either. Heard him walking around all night again. Idk if I should ask him what his deal is. I don’t want to talk to him about it yet and he’ll probably try to do that. Which is weird for him. A year ago I’d give anything for him to open up like he’s been trying to. But it hurts too much right now. It’s so messy. I’m all tangled. I need to straighten myself out before talking about it. 

I think I’m going to an al-anon meeting today and I’m nervous. Not sure what to expect. Keep worrying they’ll tell me I don’t belong there or make me talk about him. I don’t know if I belong there. I don’t know if I belong anywhere. 

Pulling back from your notebook, you stare at the last sentence for a while before closing the cover and setting it on the end table. 

Frankie walks out from his bedroom and rounds the corner to the living room, looking suspiciously formal, wearing slacks and a white dress shirt. His dark curls have been combed into a neat side part. It even looks like he trimmed his facial hair. 

As he peeks through the front window curtains, you blurt, “Are you wearing a fucking tie?” 

He looks surprised to hear you speak, raising his eyebrows as he glances down at himself, then up at you, “Yeah. I have a uhhh… a deposition today.” 

“Is that good or bad?” 

“Not really either. It’s normal, I guess. They’re just asking me questions on the record.” 

Nodding, you study his nervous demeanor, watching him reflexively go to lift his hat, faltering a little before running his fingers through his hair anyway. 

A desire to comfort him trickles through you, extinguishing the glowing embers of contempt inside your chest. 

“How is the case going, do you know?” 

The corner of his mouth pulls back into a kind of grimace. He takes another peek out the window, then steps back and shrugs as he approaches the couch, “The lawyer says they’ll probably offer a plea deal once this is over. We’ll see what that looks like.” He sits down at the other end of the couch, pulling out his phone to keep an eye on the little car on his rideshare app, “He thinks maybe they could agree to a reduced sentence.” 

You pick at your frayed cuticles, holding your tongue for as long as you can before asking, “How are you doing with… everything?” 

When you glance at him, his face is crooked with contemplation. He shifts in his seat and crosses his arms, lips parting with an answer. A notification dings on his phone. 

“My ride’s here,” he murmurs and meets your eyes with an apologetic expression, “We can talk about it later?” 

You give him a non-committal smile, “Good luck at your thing.” 

—

The woman who gave you your new member packet, apparently the leader of the meeting, looks around the room and announces,

“This afternoon, our fearless speaker will be Taylor. Everybody please welcome Taylor.”

From the back row, you sink down in your metal folding chair and glance around at the attendees, joining in when they start to clap for a woman approaching the podium. 

“Hi everyone, my name is Taylor. I’m a member of Al-Anon.” 

The room responds in unison, “Hi Taylor.” 

Taylor smiles and shakes her head, looking down at a small stack of trembling notecards. Her round shoulders raise with a deep breath. She closes her eyes for a moment, exhales, then looks up at the room. 

“If you would’ve told me a year ago I’d be the speaker at an Al-Anon group, there’s no way I’d believe you. But here I am,” she chuckles, “Wow. Thank you everyone for coming in today. I see so many familiar faces and some not so familiar faces and I’m grateful to see all of you. I’m proud of you for coming to this meeting today. 

“One of the biggest preconceived notions I had when I started attending Al-Anon meetings nine months ago is that they would help me support my alcoholic husband. At the time, he was about a month into sobriety and had just started going to AA meetings. He was struggling like hell and a friend of his asked if he wanted to go to an AA meeting with him. So he did. 

“I’ll be honest, when he suggested I go to Al-Anon, I was annoyed. I really was. At that point, we’d been married for five years. He tried quitting, oh, I don’t know… six times in that five years? Three 90-day inpatient rehab stays, two arrests, more sleepless nights than I can count.” 

Taylor pauses and looks down at her notes, then back up at the room as an amused smile spreads across her face. 

“What it always reminded me of was this story my husband told me. Every so often, he goes through these phases where he gets very very interested in a particular subject. It completely takes him over. All he wants to do is read about it and talk about it and… well, you get it. 

“When he was in his Greek mythology era, he told me about Sisyphus, the king of Ephyra. Sisyphus killed people who visited his palace, which angered the gods because they considered it impolite, which is the understatement of the millennium, but that’s neither here nor there. When Sisyphus died, Hades punished him to an eternity rolling a boulder uphill. He would fight his way up this steep hill, pushing the boulder with all his might. The boulder was enchanted, though, and every time the it got near the top, the boulder would roll back down the hill, then he’d have to try again. So he does this over and over and over for eternity. Infinite frustration and exhaustion. 

“Sometimes it felt like that with him. With my alcoholic. Like I was stuck in this loop, fighting like hell to push his dead weight to the top of the hill. Just when I got a scrap of hope, it went tumbling back down. Over and over and over again. I structured my whole life around his relationship to alcohol. Checking in with him constantly, making sure I didn’t say or do anything that might trigger another relapse, putting myself on the back burner to accommodate his needs. So when he suggested I try going to Al-Anon meetings, I expected it to be another chore catering to his sobriety. I thought I would come here and learn all the ways people support the alcoholic in their life the right way. Because I obviously wasn’t doing it the right way. If I was, he would have years of sobriety under his belt. 

“Regardless, I agreed to go, and quickly discovered my preconceived notions about Al-Anon were wrong. Al-Anon doesn’t exist for us to better service the alcoholic or alcoholics in our lives. Sure, we’re all here because of the alcoholic in our lives, but the point is to better service ourselves. I think that distinction is important. 

“When I came home from my first meeting, I went through the new member packet Mario gave me, and found a handout that said: Detachment is neither kind nor unkind,” Taylor nods at the memory and looks around the room, “That struck a chord with me, that phrase. Detachment is neither kind nor unkind. It didn’t make sense to me at first. I thought, how is detachment neither kind nor unkind? It went against my instincts completely. How was I supposed to help my husband if I detached from him? Isn’t love about being attached to someone, sticking together through thick and thin? 

“Attending meetings and working the steps helped me get a better grasp on the concept. I came to understand that, in Al-Anon, detachment can mean two different things. The first is separating the person you love from their alcoholic behaviors. The second is a little harder to define, but it centers around the idea that you are separate from other people, and their actions do not control yours. Let me show you what I mean, though.

“In my relationship with my husband, we were entangled,” Taylor laces her hands together and holds them up for everyone to see. “Wherever he went, I went, too.” She moves her clasped hands back and forth. Spreading her hands apart, she says, “I didn’t want to be apart from him. But what I found with detachment is,” she flattens her hands palm-to-palm, “We can be close without being entangled. That way, if he goes to a dark place,” she moves one hand away from the other and shakes her head, “I don’t have to go with him if I don’t want to.” 

Taylor looks around the room, allowing her words to sink in, then returns her attention to the stack of notecards and flips to the next. 

“When we detach in this way, it both relieves us of our perceived responsibility for their actions and emotions, and grants them autonomy to make their own choices. They deserve dignity and freedom, which is difficult to obtain if we try to manage their lives. 

“So often in our marriage, I thought that loving my alcoholic meant rescuing him from himself. I thought that if I exerted myself hard enough, pushed him up that steep hill long enough, we would get to the top together. But the effort was Sisyphean. It didn’t matter how much time or effort I put into controlling the direction of the boulder. It would always roll downhill, because the boulder was enchanted. Even if I spent an eternity trying, even if I begged and screamed and pleaded with the boulder, it would still be enchanted. And, you know… maybe that’s ok. Maybe he’s not meant to sit at the top of the hill. It’s not his fault, either, and I came to realize that instead of getting frustrated at him for being enchanted, I can meet him where he is and love him anyway. If I don’t like that place, I don’t have to stay there. When I detach with love, I grant myself autonomy as well as him. 

“Putting the metaphor aside, I’ve used this in practice by no longer lying for him. If he’s at an AA meeting and our daughter asks why he’s not home, I tell her the truth. When my family or friends ask how everything is going, I don’t try to make it seem easier than it is so he can save face. I confide in them with sincerity because that is what I need. I’ve stopped giving him advice unless he asks for it, because I’ve learned here that most times people don’t need advice, they just need someone to listen and be present. I’ve stopped trying to take the reins when I think he’s making poor decisions, because he doesn’t need someone to do it for him. He needs to learn to do it himself. Part of learning is making mistakes and growing out from beneath the consequences. 

“Detachment is neither kind nor unkind, it’s a tool we utilize to free ourselves and the alcoholic in our lives. Al-Anon doesn’t exist to teach us how to help the alcoholic in our lives, although the tools it gives us can aid in their recovery as well as ours. This fellowship exists to help us, the families of the alcoholic, so that we may lead more joyful and serene lives. Thank you.” 

Applause erupts from the crowd, and you join in, watching Taylor glow with pride as she steps away from the podium. 

—

Damp, hot air pours in through the rolled-down windows, carrying with it the earthy scent of algae-bloom off East Lake Tohopekaliga. Driving along the slow, steady curve, you pass by sprawling oak trees, their eaves all draped in spanish moss. 

Your hope was that taking the scenic route home would clear your head, but it’s not doing the trick. Something shifted inside you during the meeting. You can’t quite put your finger on exactly what shifted or why it happened, although your circular thoughts give you the sense you’re on the precipice of understanding. 

You keep thinking about the speaker, Taylor, and the lesson she relayed from her podium. Her situation is different from yours, but you know it all the same. You know how it feels to dig your heels into the dirt, struggling like hell to push someone in the direction you think is best. You know how it feels to see him tumble to the bottom time and time again. And for what? It’s not like he’s any better off because of your efforts. It’s not like you are, either. 

How many times have you betrayed yourself for the sake of his favor? How many times have you put your needs aside to tend to his? 

Calm blue-gray water flickers behind the trees you drive past. It looks peaceful. Further up the road, you spot a public access point to the lake and turn into the lot, hitting a bump. When you do, a loud BANG reverberates through the car. The steering wheel shakes as you slow to a jerky, lopsided stop.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you fume, shifting the car into park. Folding forward onto the steering wheel, you pinch your eyes shut and take a deep breath, then exit the vehicle to look at the damage. 

The front driver’s side tire sits flat against the pavement. You stare at it and shake your head, muttering, “God fucking damnit,” before walking to the trunk. 

You open it and pull up the mat to the spare tire well. It’s empty. 

“Fucking of course. Jesus fucking—” 

Cutting yourself off with a furious groan, you pull out your phone and go through your contact list, pointedly scrolling past the F’s to pause at Leah, who’s over an hour away, then Marla, who’s busy enough as it is. You even briefly consider Rory, but the idea makes your stomach lurch. 

You could just do it all yourself. Order a car on one of those rideshare apps. It would take forever, though, and you’ve never changed a tire before. 

Frankie is the logical choice. The first person who came to mind, if you’re being honest. Something hard and stubborn inside your chest throbs when you hover over his name. 

It’s pride, you realize. Maybe a little fear. You don’t want to ask for his help. You don’t want to burden him. You don’t want to be disappointed if he says no. 

All the same, you dial his number. He picks up on the second ring. 

“H—”

“Are you at the house?”  

“I am.” 

“Are you busy?” 

“Nothing I can’t put off ‘til later. Why?” 

“My fucking tire blew out, and my spare is in the garage,” you sigh and throw your head back, propping a hand on your hip, “Is there any way you can bring it out to me?” 

“I, umm… yeah, of course. Where are you?” 

“East Lake Toho.”

He snorts, “Christ, what’re you doing all the way out there?” In the background, you hear the floorboards creaking, mapping his way through the house. Before you can respond, he asks, “Spare tire in the garage, need me to grab anything else?” 

“Uhhhh…” you wrinkle your nose at the trunk, “I don’t know, I have a jack and the tire iron thing.” 

“That should do it. Wanna drop me a pin? I’ll have to get a ride out there.” 

“Yeah. I can pay you back if you need to order a Lyft or whatever.” 

“Just take it off my tab,” he jokes, the back door squeaking open behind his voice, “Hang tight, I’ll be there in a bit.”

You turn around to lean back on the bumper, “Ok, I’ll be here.” 

After hanging up, you share your location with him, then wander down to the dock. It rattles around as you teeter to the end and sit down, letting your feet dangle over the edge. 

Cattails and lily pads have been cleared from the shoreline near the boat landing, giving you a clear view across the lake, broken up here and there by thick swaths of aquatic vegetation. The glassy surface of the water reflects the hazy blue sky, and stagnant air sticks humid to your skin. Insects buzz and birds sing and somewhere far away you hear a boat motor chugging across the lake. 

When you think of serenity, this is what you picture. Stillness and calm. Peace. You inhale the scene, allowing it to stretch out inside you and unfurl your tensed muscles. 

As soon as the unease evaporates from your body, fatigue takes over.  

Lying back on the dock, you stare up at tall, fluffy clouds littering the sky. Your eyelids grow heavy as you watch the slow-moving parade of shifting giants, the warm air lulling you into comfort until you let your eyes drift closed. 

Your awareness fades in and out while you sleep. At one point, a car door shuts, then the car drives off. Vaguely, you know it’s Frankie but can’t lift your limbs, syrupy thick with lethargy. You hear grunts and metallic clattering. Some time later, your trunk slams shut. 

When the dock starts wobbling around beneath you, you blink your eyes open and sit up, scrubbing your hands over your face as a yawn overtakes you. 

“Hey sleepyhead.” 

You glance over your shoulder at Frankie, who comes to sit down beside you with a groan. He’s back to his usual attire, jeans and a t-shirt, baseball cap firmly in place atop his head. 

Still groggy, you yawn, “I couldn’t make myself wake up.” 

“Not sleeping well?” 

“Fucking awful, honestly.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

You frown at him, searching his face until he gives you a little shrug, at which point you mumble, “Oh. I forgot that I, umm… yeah. Sorry.” 

“No need to apologize,” he tells you, squinting up at the sky before dropping his eyes to his hands as he fiddles with his wedding band, “Same here. The—the sleep part, not the nightmares.” 

“Yeah, I know. I hear you pacing around at night.” 

“Oh… sorry, I didn’t realize—”

You push yourself up straighter to watch his legs dangle next to yours, “It’s fine.” 

Quiet settles comfortably between you. Near the dock, you see a cluster of bubbles rise to the surface of the lake and burst. The ripples flatten out and calm returns. 

A question swells in your ribcage. Just a small pocket of air at first, maybe the size of a pebble. The longer you sit and stare at the water, though, it expands. It works its way up your throat, taking up more and more space with each passing second until you can’t contain it any more. 

“So you were lying to me, right? About not being with her?” 

He meets your gaze, dark eyes all remorseful and gooey, then he nods, “Yeah. I was lying. To both of you.” 

Folding your legs up onto the dock, you look away in the hope that he won’t notice the tears starting to come. When he speaks, his voice comes out hoarse and quiet. 

“How much do you want me to tell you?” 

The question replaces the air in your lungs with a vibrating sensation. Another cluster of bubbles dissolve on the surface of the lake. You manage to croak, “I don’t know.” 

He doesn’t respond. You sense that he’s waiting for you to make the next move. 

Your mind wanders to the front porch swing that night you forced him to choose. He felt so far away. Until he told you differently, you were so certain he was in love with you. 

“I don’t know how to trust your words as truth, Frankie. All the way back to the start, I don’t know what was real and what was bullshit and I am fucking—” your voice cracks from the emotion burning up your throat. 

He goes to comfort you, but pulls back before making contact. 

Every cell inside you aches for him to bridge the gap. You follow the instinct, grabbing his shirt to curl into his shoulder. As soon as you do, he wraps his arms tight around you, bringing you in closer. 

A wave of moth-eaten hurt wells up your chest. 

“Why?” you sob, “Why did you do this to me? I don’t understand—”

He starts to rock you in a slow, soothing motion, burying his face in your hair as you cry into the collar of his shirt. In the background, behind your racing thoughts and shattered breaths, you hear him whisper on repeat: I’m sorry, baby… I’m so sorry.

[magic-multicolored-miracle]

The Witcher S3 Ep4: The Invitation AKA I Was Definitely Not Prepared

There were moments where I had to fully pause the show and collect myself. Because I knew I only have 2 episodes left and there were a lot of things that hadn't happened yet. But I still wasn't expecting them to happen all at once or send me on that wild emotion rollercoaster

Is Emperor CreepyDad just like this with everyone? Just stolling into Cahir's room while he sleeps and eating his food. Boundaries dude.

Aww, Cahir actually cared about Fringilla? That's sweet. And misguided cus she didn't give two fucks about him

Also, Cahir's been back in the good graces for at least a day. Can't we get him some time to clean up? Greasy hair and a dust-stained shirt aren't exactly courtier attire...

Aww, poor dear is having a crisis of faith. You shut the fuck up with your shitty advice CreepyDad. He needs guidance and help

Excuse you Artorius. Yennefer is a gift and you should be grateful. What, pray tell, have you fucking done lately to fix anything, besides sit around moaning about it all with Stregobitch?

"No more secrets" is a tough, possibly impossible, ask.

Also I hate that it's still The Brotherhood when at least half of them are women. And this weird vote by banging, which is new?

You would know all about that, wouldn't you Geralt?

Those are some dramatic-ass invites. I respect it

She's right Yen. You are good at this stuff

Triss is right to mistrust, but I'm worried for her investigating

Triss and Istredd? Not a pair I would have thought (and I suppose technically it's pair the spares) but it actually makes a load of sense, romantically or otherwise. I'm here for it

That's an interesting theory. A wrong one most likely, but interesting. And might put you in the right direction at least

Ooh here we go. This is The Episode. I'm not sure I'm ready, but I'm so ready

Don't forget, Ciri's granddad was from Skellige. She knows the sea (I almost did)

Jaskier's little perched pose and expression. He is loving this, and subtly egging the pocket-sized princess on

Hold on, I gotta put everything down and prepare myself. The moment I've dreaded and been waiting for...

He comes with backup singers?! Why didn't we collectively think of that? Of course he does!

His troupe are all much prettier than him

Are we still doing this between the two of you, Yen? It's just very strange and bordering on petty in a way you aren't usually

Oh right. I forgot the Queen of Redania was assassinated by "Nilfgaard"

Of course you and Sabrina knock boots and get along. You're both egotistical bitches who I want to like (but at least in her case I just can't. You still have your chance)

Vengeance, not scorn. Justice and Vengeance are two sides of the same coin.

Aww. Proud Dad

As much as I know this is important, I really want to know what any of Vizimir's half-comments in the background mean/the context where they make any sense

Hah! Outplayed the spies, nicely done Yen

These dramatic fucks. I think the whole band is "Valdo Marx" like Bon Jovi. That's what I'm going to run with.

Maybe listen to the professionals next time, Boris

Looks like all that obstacle-coursing with Lambert and Coén paid off

What and who the fuck was that? Because I am going to personally fight them

They got what they wanted from her though, in a way. Ciri's location is "with Geralt"

"Be careful who you trust" she says in front of the snakiest witch they know 🙄 I thought you were supposed be smart, Triss

Oh Ciri, you and your moral compass

Fringilla looks good with this vibe and crowd. Happy and free works for her

How is the bartender not noticing this?

Why are boats the interesting part?

Aww bonding time! I love Jaskier and his goddaughter/niece mocking her parents. 😂

And that they've finally reunited, but I do kinda want to know what was actually said to lead to that "sag into a hug" moment

Oh Jaskier, surely someone warned you about playing games of luck or strategy against Cirilla of Cintra, an absolute shark in the streets of her youth

Aww. Jaskier 🥺 that was really sweet. And probably exactly what she needed to hear. And then topped with a lullaby? I can't

Radovid, what are you doing?

The fact that Jaskier knows he's not a fighter, but is fully ready to throw himself into danger to keep it from Ciri, even for an extra moment. And risk his prized possession as a weapon. 🥺💖

Oh. Oh! I didn't realize this would be in the same episode! Oh god! I'm not prepared for Emotions!

"The only good part of this mess was meeting you." Bitch you can't just say something so gut-punching like that.

🥺😭😍🥺 the gifs were nowhere near enough for this. I need it seared into my brain. The emotion in their voices, and in their eyes, the desperation and terror in their breaths. It's all...perfectly heartwrenching.

I believe now, more than ever, that this is going to hurt Jaskier in some way, and that is going to break me. I would almost rather the strike against the show for "Bury Your Gays" and killing the Princeling than have him betray Jaskier

Careful Dara, speaking up apparently is a good way to get permenantly silenced around here

She's not wrong Cahir...you have proven fairly unreliable

What's the mission? Why won't you tell us?

Reinforcements? Are Philippa and Dijkstra planning to attack the Conclave? And if it's taking their messenger 2 days to get there, how are they getting back by first dawn? Not that they're getting there at all now, but I want the deets of what the plan was so I can decide how stupid it might have been

I support Geralt's plan. We just stab the shit out of Stregobitch until he stops smirking, or wasting oxygen

What the hell is Philippa wearing? And Triss's hair...

Ooh I love these parallel pairs plotting. But it makes me think Stregobor also has a second. It might just be Artorius but...I have my doubts

What is Tissaia unsure of? Not the conclave she's been so passionately backing, right? But what else is there?

Yen looks gorgeous, and I like that it's drawing from Anya's heritage with her hair but I don't know if I actually like her outfit. It feels out of sync somehow

Holy cliffhanger Batman

[leossmoonn]

When Push Comes to Shove

masterlist

pairing - sirius black x ravenclaw,fem!reader

type - fluff, kinda angst

note - got this idea from this prompt list

summary - you and sirius, who are sworn arch-enemies, get forced to go on a double date with your friends, only to find out that maybe you can be arch-enemies while also being a couple

warnings / includes - language, fighting, alcohol, food, physical teasing, suggestive, flirting, smart-ass reader, cute ending <3 this fic used to be titled ‘accidentally in love’ :)

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“What, why! Please, Y/n?” Lily whined.

“I said no,” you glared at her. “Why not? It’ll be fun!” Lily tried to convince you.

“Fun? Me hanging out with that disgusting, greasy-haired prick is your definition of fun? Well, I got some news for you —”

Lily rolled her eyes, taking you by the arm and yanking you to the side. You yelped in annoyance, jerking your arm back. You rubbed your skin as Lily had a rough grip on your arm.

“That hurt!” You frowned.

“I sincerely apologise, but I need you to say yes.”

“Why? What’s in it for me?” You cocked your brow.

Lily groaned, knowing you would ask for something in return. Even though she was annoyed, Lily had already thought up a list of things that could get you to agree.

“What if I do your O.W.Ls?” She suggested.

You stared at her for a few moments, then bursting into laughter. Lily clenched her jaw, becoming more irritated with you.

“I love you, Lily, and you are a very intelligent girl, but need I remind you that I’m a Ravenclaw? I should be the one offering!”

“Fine. What about I buy you anything you want from Hogsmeade?”

“Nope, I have money, thanks.”

“How about I let you play pranks on the boys?”

“I do that on a daily basis already. What else do you got?”

Lily balled her hands into fists, her face turning red with irritated. You didn’t do anything but stare at her expectantly. Lily loved you, but she hated how uncooperative you were. And she wasn’t a violent person, but sometimes you made her want to throw you to the Whomping Willow and let it have its fun with you.

“What if…” Lily thought. She knew she had to make this bride unforgettable and something you just couldn’t say no to. “What if I convince your parents to let you stay with James and I for the summer? I know how you’ve always wanted to stay at his house, and spend the summer with me. I also know how protective of you they are, and they trust me the most out of everyone you’re friends with. What do you say, Y/n?”

You narrowed your eyes at her. It was a tempting offer. Your parents were protective of you, over-protective, really. And the Potter’s residence was your absolute favorite place. His parents treated you like their own and they lived next to town, which was always fun to visit. But did you really want to give in to an offer like this? You knew that you should probably say no and see if Lily came up with a better one, but this was all you really wanted. Plus, if you said yes, you would have to spend a whole day with Sirius Black, and you really didn’t think that your brain could handle that much stupidity in one day.

“Can you stop being so analytical for once and just tell me your answer?” Lily snapped.

You blinked a few times as you came out of your own thoughts. You hummed quietly, weighing your options once more.

“I’ll let you dare me to do whatever you want! Whether it’s chug a big glass of butterbeer or jump into the lake with my clothes on, I’ll do it,” Lily added.

Well, now, that wasn’t something you could pass up.

“Fine. I’ll go in this double-“date” with you,” you decided.

“Oh, lovely!” Lily squealed. She jumped up and down in excitement.

“I won’t go easy on you, Evans,” you smirked.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if the Sorting Hat placed you in the wrong house,” she remarked, beginning to walk back to her house.

You scoffed in disbelief. “Yeah, you should’ve ended up in Slytherin with that comment!”

————

“Do I look alright?” You asked, turning your head so you could look at your backside.

“I thought you didn’t care about looking good for Sirius,” Lily smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not why I asked. I care about looking good for me, mind you. Now, please answer the question.”

“You look amazing, Y/n. As you always do. I’m the one who might need to change.” Lily cringed at her reflection.

You looked at her, shaking your head.

“You look gorgeous, Lily. You always do, and James will think so, too. You know, you could wear a potato sack and still look like the Queen of England.”

Lily blushed at you comment. “Thank you. Do you think I should re-do my hair, though?”

“No, I think it looks pretty,” you complimented. “Although, it could be adjusted. Here, le’me.”

She turned so your back was facing her. You grabbed a couple of bobby pins from your nightstand, putting them in your mouth so your hands were free. Lily had braided the side strands of her hair and pulled them back and pinned them to her head. You were just going to re-adjust the pins so that they wouldn’t fall in the first five minutes of you two going out.

“All right, all done!” You announced.

Lily turned around in the mirror, smiling in satisfaction. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Now, do I need to adjust anything?” You asked. “Hm,” Lily hummed, looking at your outfit.

You were wearing a black skirt, navy-blue sweater, and black Lolita shoes with white socks. Your makeup was natural-looking with eyeliner lining your top lash line. Your lips were painted rosey-red and your cheeks dusted with highlighter. You had seen this type of outfit in a Muggle magazine and couldn’t help but want to try and recreate it.

“Nope! You look so cute. You’ll definitely have Sirius drooling,” Lily winked.

“Yeah, because he’s a fucking dog,” you grimaced.

You looked at your reflection once more, your mind beginning to wander to Sirius and what his reaction would be when he saw you in your outfit. You knew that he would probably stare at you for a good minute, his eyes raking down your body and then back up to your eyes, only to give you a wink and make a suggestive comment. The thought of him made your stomach flip and head a little dizzy.

Lily smirked as she saw the look in your eye. Your lips were still pulled into a frown, but your eyes told a different story. Lily decided not to comment on it, just to let yourself figure out that you actually had feeling for Sirius.

“Ready to go?” Lily’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

“Hm?” You hummed, your head snapping to her. She gestured to her purse and coat that were in her hands. “Oh, yeah,” you nodded, moving to grab your purse.

You two walked out of the Ravenclaw tower, sneaking down to the back entrance of Hogwarts. You four didn’t have classes today, but you still weren’t allowed to go out of the castle. So, of course, you had to sneak out to go to Hogsmeade.

You two arrived at the castle’s secret exit, looking around for Sirius and James.

“Where are they? It’s already 9,” you frowned, checking your watch.

“Boo!” A low voice exclaimed. You felt someone poke your shoulders and you screamed, taking out your wand.

“Petrificus Totalus!” You shouted.

As you said the spell, Sirius and James were beginning to take off their invisibility cloak. Now with them frozen, only their heads were showing.

“Oh, it’s you two,” you grimaced. “Finite Incantatem,” you muttered and shoved your wand back inside your purse.

“Bloody hell, L/n!” Sirius exclaimed as he shoved off the cloak.

“Don’t start. It was your fault!” You frowned.

Sirius opened his mouth to retort, but James put his hand on Sirius’s chest to stop him.

“Why don’t you just calm down, Padfoot. She did what any normal witch would do.”

“Whatever,” Sirius muttered.

James sighed and turned to Lily, a warm, loving smile upturning onto his lips. “You look stunning, Lils.” He put his arm around her, pulling her into a short, sweet kiss.

Lily giggled as they pulled away. “Thank you, Jamie. You look very handsome.”

“Oh, me? Pfft,” James played off her compliment like it was no big deal, but the blush on his ears said otherwise.

He then turned to you, giving you a smile. “Hello, Y/n. You look beautiful, as well. Doesn’t she, Padfoot?” James nudged his friend who was looking at the ground, kicking the dirt.

“M’Guess,” Sirius murmured. “Sirius!” James hissed and kicked him in the shin.

“Ow! Blimey, fine!” Sirius exclaimed and looked up at you. He did a quick glance, not paying much attention. But then he did a double take, his jaw dropping.

You looked gorgeous. The shade of blue you were wearing complimented your complexion nicely. Your makeup looked flawless, the red in your lips drawing the most attention. Your legs looked fantastic, too. Smooth and silky. And your eyes, Merlin, Sirius had never seen eyes like yours in his whole seventeen years. They were always so enchanting. Especially when they were in the moonlight like now. He couldn’t help but get lost in them.

“You’re drooling, mate,” James whispered.

Sirius snapped out of his daze, bringing his wrist to his mouth and wiping the little string of spit off of his bottom lip. You couldn’t help but snicker at him. But even though you were playing it cool, the back of your neck was getting warmer and and warmer by the second as you couldn’t get his stare out of your head.

“Sweater looks a bit big on you, eh?” Sirius remarked.

“It’s supposed to be like that, dimwit,” you frowned.

And your growing feelings for him disappeared just like that.

“Hm, I think tighter-clothing is better,” Sirius grinned.

“No one asked,” you quipped. “Anyways, are we going or not?” You turned to the couple.

“Yes! Let’s hurry, we have to be back before midnight,” Lily said.

You four walked through the grass and into town. You couldn’t help but smile as you passed through the gates. Hogsmeade was beautiful at night. There were different-coloured fairy lights hanging on the canopies and windows of the shops and restaurants. It smelled of Butterbeer and Cauldron Cakes. The starry sky was what really tied it all together. It was a perfect setting for a late-night stroll with a lover.

“Where shall we eat?” James asked.

“Let’s go to the Leaky Cauldron. I want a meal, not just drinks,” Lily answered.

“Sounds good,” you nodded.

You four walked into the restaurant, the salty smell of fisherman’s pie filling your noses.

“Aye, welcome! What can I do for you four tonight?” A man behind the bar exclaimed.

“Table for four, please,” Lily smiled.

“Alright. Sit anywhere you’d like. I’ll get your menus,” the man said.

“And can you get us some Butterbeers and waters, please?” James asked.

“Of course,” the man nodded and went back into the kitchens.

You started to walk to a booth, Sirius making his way to a four-seated table in the middle of the restaurant.

“Sirius!” You groaned once you noticed that he wasn’t following you.

“What?” He snapped. “We’re sitting in a booth,” you stated.

“Hell no. Booths are too cramped,” Sirius shook his head.

“Please! I was the one who was forced to go tonight. The least you could do is do what I want,” you replied.

“Oh, you were forced to come here?” Sirius scoffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “If it weren’t for you, I would be in my room listening to the new records James’s parents got me for Christmas!”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” you mocked. “If it weren’t for you, I would be sitting at my desk and studying for the Potions exam!”

“My God, you are even more boring than I thought!” Sirius laughed.

“Oh, you shut up, you little —”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Lily ran over to you, grabbing your wrist to stop you from grabbing your wand. “Let’s all get along.”

“Yeah, let’s stay playful together, guys,” James said. He went over to Sirius, grabbing his shoulders and steering him in your direction. “Let’s sit at the booths tonight.”

“What! Pro—”

“No buts, Sirius. Be a gentleman and let the lady choose,” James smiled between a clenched jaw. He gave Sirius a warning look. Sirius sighed and nodded, knowing that if he didn’t play nice, he wouldn’t be able to prank Filch for a week. (A very serious threat made by James).

“Fine,” he muttered, shoving off James and trudging over to the booths.

James smiled in triumph as he watched you and Sirius sit on opposite sides of the booth. Lily walked over to her boyfriend, a regretful look on her face.

“You think this was a good idea, James?” Lily whispered.

“It’s a great idea! Why the worry?” James looked down at her.

“Well, look at them!” Lily whisper-shouted and pointed to the two of you.

You and Sirius were currently arguing about which silverware to use while eating pie. Sirius being the one to say spoon and you saying fork. While to strangers, and to Lily, it looked as though you two were about to gouge each other’s eyes out, James saw it differently. Yes, you two were death-glaring each other, but both of your eyes held something else other than hate. It wasn’t exactly love, but it was fondness and a sort of, warmth.

James and Lily had only made you two go out tonight so you two would finally admit the feelings you had for each other. While you two were feisty, witty, and surely aggravating people, everyone - and I mean everyone - knew you two were the perfect match for each other. Especially James. He just knew that you two could be the most adoring, passionate, and loving couple if you two would just get over yourselves.

“They’re fine, darling. We’ll just get them tipsy and “accidentally” push them together so they’ll kiss, then they’ll be all over each other,” James shrugged.

“And what if it doesn’t work?” Lily worried.

“It will, Lils! Now, sit down and enjoy yourself. You look too pretty to have that distressed look in your face,” James grinned.

“Fine. But if this backfires, I won’t be there to hold Y/n back when she kills him,” Lily grumbled, walking out of James’s grasp.

“Duly noted,” James sighed.

The couple finally got seated, sitting across from you and Sirius on purpose. You two didn’t say anything, knowing that it would only make Lily more tense. Your waiter came back with your drinks and menus, bidding you goodbye so you could decide on what you wanted to eat.

“The stew looks good,” you commented while you eyed the menu.

“Yeah, I think I might get that, too,” Sirius said.

“Are you seriously copying me?” You scoffed, turning your head to him.

“Are you seriously copying me?” Sirius mocked.

“Shut up!” You frowned.

“Shut up!” Sirius exclaimed with a shit-eating grin.

“I’m serious!” You exhaled helplessly. “Make me, then,” Sirius raised his brows challengingly.

Your frown turned into an unimpressed smirk. “Really? You’re going to play this game?”

“S’matter, L/n? Scared you won’t be able to?”

Your own brows raised in surprise. Your hand fell from the table to his knee. Your fingers crawled up his slacks as you maintained eye contact with him. Sirius’s breath started to get heavy and quick as you stared intensely into his grey-coloured eyes. Your own heart started to pick up its pace as you felt yourself nearing his crotch. You decided to stop your hand and let it rest against his inner-thigh. You leaned forward, your lips coming close to his ear. Sirius shivered as he felt your hot breath fan over his skin.

“I’m not scared of anything, Padfoot,” you purred his nickname.

Sirius’s heart dropped into his stomach and he gulped, his throat quickly becoming dry. He turned away from you, reaching out to grab his water. He downed the drink and you smirked in triumph, your hand sliding off of his thigh and back onto the table.

“At least they aren’t fighting anymore?” James whispered to Lily. “That was disgusting,” she grimaced.

“Oh, don’t pretend we haven’t done the same thing,” James nudged her.

Pink tainted Lily’s cheeks and she hit James on the arm softly. “Shush!”

“Just saying,” James smirked, looking back at his menu.

Your waiter came back, taking your orders and hurrying off to the kitchen.

“So, how was your guys’s day?” James asked.

“Fine,” you shrugged. “Better now that you’re here,” Lily kissed James’s cheek.

“Awe, Lils,” James gushed.

“Gross,” you muttered while sipping your beer.

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t want a boyfriend,” Sirius said. “I never said I didn’t. PDA is just… weird,” you shudders.

Sirius raised his brows at you, shocked at your words. You noticed his gaze and frowned. “What?”

“You realise you little teasing act was PDA?”

“Oh, please,” you chuckled. “I was merely flirting. It would only be PDA if we were a couple, which newsflash, we’ll never be.”

Ouch.

Sirius frowned, turning away from you slowly and looking at the table. His heart broke a little at your words. He tucked his feelings for you away, in the back of his mind, where they usually resided. He took a few big gulps of his Butterbeer, trying to think about anything else.

You saw the expression in his face and instantly regretted your words. You didn’t mean to say it. Well, okay, maybe you did. But you only said it because it was your guys’s thing. You realised you might’ve taken it too far.

“Hey, Sirius, I’m sorry.” You apologised, putting your hand on his forearm gently.

“S’fine,” he shrugged. “Sirius, I’m serious. I—”

“It’s fine, Y/n!” Sirius shouted.

Your, Lily, and James’s eyes widened at his outburst. Sirius looked between the three of you, shoving off your hand and getting up.

“M’gonna use the bathroom,” he grunted, walking away.

“Well, good job, Y/n!” James frowned.

“Uh— It’s not my fault that he’s super sensitive tonight. He should’ve known I was joking!” You defended.

“He gets soft when he’s intoxicated.”

“You did sound actually serious, too,” Lily added.

You scoffed, not believing her. You thought that Lily would defend you, but you guessed wrong.

“Well, I actually do feel bad, y’know,” you muttered.

“We know and he knows, too. Let’s just change the subject,” James suggested.

“Fine,” you sighed.

James started talking about your guys’s plans for the summer, assuming Lily would be able to talk your parents into letting you go. Sirius came back, looking chipper and new. Your eyes were wide with surprise and confusion as you watched him walk with a pep in his step. He sat down with a little bounce, taking a swig of his beer.

“You okay, mate?” James asked, also noticing the change in mood.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Sirius asked.

“No reason,” James shrugged.

James continued talking about summer plans, you three all listening intently. Sirius’s eyes occasionally flickered to you, him not being able to stop staring at your thighs that were crossed under the table. While looking back at James, he swiftly put his hand on your knee, goosebumps rising up your leg. You furrowed your brows and looked to him, expecting him to be looking back at you with a mischievous smirk, but he was just looking at James, chiming in whenever he felt need be.

You looked back down at his hand, watching in anticipation as his fingers inched up your bare thigh. You rolled your eyes as you knew he was just getting you back from earlier. You looked back at James, deciding to ignore it to the best of your ability. You honestly weren’t sure if you were able to focus on anything else, though. It was Sirius Black touching you, of course.

You nodded along to whatever James said, beginning to imagine all the things you four would be doing during summertime rather than imagining Sirius doing dirty things to you under the table. As you opened your mouth to laugh, you ended up taking in a sharp breath as Sirius’s fingers fingers pinched the skin on your inner-thigh.

“You okay, Y/n?” Lily asked, totally oblivious to what Sirius was doing.

“Yeah, I just… Really need to use the bathroom,” you chuckled awkwardly. You gripped the table as you stood up, feeling a little dizzy.

“Be careful! The floor is a little slippery,” Sirius remarked.

You turned your head and made a face, then walking to the bathroom. To be fair, you actually did have to use the toilets, but you also needed to be able to breath. You hated to admit it, but Sirius’s scent was intoxicating and making it very hard for you to breath. You felt like you were trapped. Not necessarily in a bad way, though.

You washed your hands, and dabbed a paper towel on your forehead to collect the beads of sweat that had begun to perspirate. You went back out, seeing that your food at came. You hurried to your seat, smiling up at your waiter and thanking him before be left. 

“Hm, smells so good,” you hummed, putting your nose to your stew.

Sirius put his hand in your head, pushing your head down quickly, but you were quicker. You grabbed his wrist, twisting it back.

“Ow, ow, ow!” He whined. “Never do that again,” you growled.

Sirius smirked at you, thinking it was very hot when you got handsy with him.

“No promises.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, letting go of his wrist.

“Let’s do a cheers,” James suggested.

“Sure, but for what?” You asked.

“Cheers to you and Sirius spending a full hour together without actually killing each other!” James held up his Butterbeer.

You laughed, holding up your cup. Sirius and Lily did the same, your glasses clinking together.

“Cheers!” You all exclaimed.

You took a long sip of your drink, your eyes wandering over to Sirius who was already staring at you.

“What’re you looking at?” You asked.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, turning his attention back to his stew.

You brushed it off, not thinking anything of it. You four dug into your food, making conversation. You went to take a sip of your stew, getting some of the juice and onion on your top lip.

“Oh, Y/n, you got a little…” Lily notified, pointing to her lip.

“Oh,” you chuckled. You went to wipe your lip, completely missing the spot. “S’gone?” You asked.

“No,” Lily shook her head, pointing again.

You went to wipe again, missing again. Lily sighed, beginning to point to your face. Sirius rolled his eyes, grabbing his napkin.

“Here, le’me,” he offered. He put his left hand under your chin, turning your head gently to him. You watched with curious eyes as he leaned in, bringing the napkin up to your lip and wiping the food off.

You watched with labored breathes as his eyes stared intensely at your lips. His thumb was subconsciously rubbing back and forth along your jaw, making butterflies flutter through your chest and all the way down below your waistline. Sirius’s eyes wandered up to your own as he finished wiping the last bit of the stew off your lips. Red painted his cheekbones as he realised you had been staring this whole time. It seemed as if everything and everyone around you had stopped, only the two of you moving now.

Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, your tongue darting out to lick the corners of your lips subconsciously. Sirius’s heart skipped a few beats as he watched, his body beginning to lean in towards you.

It was as if a magnet was bringing you two together. No matter how hard you tried to pull away, you only brought yourself closer to him. Your noses bumped together gently, causing you to lightly chuckle. Your eyes watched his, observing as his pupils began to bleed into his irises. Your breath hitched as you felt hot air from his mouth fan over your lips.

This was happening. This was finally happening. If only you two could move faster…

Sirius’s lips brushed up against yours, igniting a spark in both of your hearts. You let out a soundless moan, moving your head to close the gap, but the loud, gruff voice of your waiter pulled you back into reality. You two jumped apart, your eyes wide as you didn’t even realise your hands were on his neck, his hand holding your waist. 

James and Lily cursed under their breathes, not believing that you two were so close, yet still so far.

“Are you — Oh, my bad. Sorry,” the waiter chuckled awkwardly.

You gave him a kind smile. “No need to be sorry. Yes, we’re all finished here. Check, please.” You held your bowl up to him.

“Alright. Are you all paying separately?”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded, completely avoiding eye contact with you.

Lily and James thanked the waiter, turning their attention to both of you. They both were now slightly annoyed, but mostly glum that you two didn’t actually kiss. You two were completely ignoring each other, too. It wasn’t like you two, and both of them knew that. They needed to try something, otherwise the whole night would be a complete fail.

“Um, Padfoot,” James coughed. “Yeah, mate?” Sirius looked up from his water cup.

“Why don’t you pay for your and Y/n’s meal and I’ll pay for mine and Lily’s?” James suggested.

Sirius then became his regular, irritating, stubborn self. “Y/n brought money. Why can’t she just pay for herself?”

You laughed incredulously, putting your head up to face him. You narrowed your eyes as you met Sirius’s.

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Well, my name is —”

“I cannot believe you,” you muttered. You turned to your purse, rummaging through and pulled out a few Galleons. “Here, I’ll pay for myself since you have a stick up your arse. I’ll be outside.”

You slammed the coins down, getting up and stomping out. Sirius scoffed as he watched your retreating figure.

“Can you believe her? What a —”

“Sirius,” James warned. “What! She’s acting like a brat. She’s the one who has a sick up her arse. God, she’s always so uptight and moody, I can’t wait for when —”

“Go outside and apologise to her!” Lily exclaimed.

Sirius looked at the redhead, surprised by her outburst. “Yeah, right. You think —”

Lily reached across the table, grabbing Sirius’s collar.

“Sirius Orion Black. If you don’t apologise to her right now, I swear on Merlin that the stick up your arse won’t be metaphorical. Now get up off of your stubborn, good-for-nothing butt and apologise to the girl that you clearly love!” Lily griped.

Sirius’s eyes flickered down to Lily’s eyes and to her hold on his shirt. He nodded furiously, running out of the restaurant as soon as Lily let go of him.

Lily sat back down with a huff, straightening out her dress. James stared at her, completely awestruck.

“What?” Lily cocked her brow up.

“I-I…” James stuttered. “I’ve just never seen you like that before. It was um… really hot.”

“Oh,” Lily blushed and hung her head low, a heavily blush rising to her cheeks. “Don’t be afraid to act that way in the bedroom,” James smiled.

“James!” Lily gasped, hitting his arm.

Meanwhile, Sirius gingerly made his way towards you. You were sitting down on a nearby bench, looking up at the stars. You smelled Sirius’s scent behind you, choosing to ignore him until he tapped your shoulder or said your name.

“Hey,” he said softly. He sat down on the bench, leaving a healthy amount of space between you two.

“Hi,” you replied flatly.

Sirius stared at you, frowning deeply as he knew he had hurt you. He tentatively reached out for your hand that was resting in the wood of the bench. He set his hand on top of yours slowly and softly, making you turn your head to him. You stared at him expectantly. Sirius sighed, taking in a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I should’ve acted like a gentleman and paid for your meal, too. We are on a double-date, after all.”

You studied him, looking for the sincerity in his eyes. You found it immediately. Your lips upturned into a smile and you opened your mouth to speak, but Sirius continued.

“You couldn’t have been any more dramatic with your exit, though, hm? Slamming the coins against the table, stomping your feet so loudly it shook the whole restaurant. Kind of cliché, really.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. You didn’t think he was serious. Or at least, you didn’t want to think he was. But alas, nothing about his expression showed that he was joking. You balled your hands in fists, your hands slipping out from under his. Your whole body started to shake with anger, your whole body lighting on fire in anger and embarrassment.

“You have got to be kidding me!” You laughed cynically. “You have got to me fucking kidding me.”

Sirius started to regret his remarks as he saw you shaking with anger. He mentally slapped himself, knowing that it probably wasn’t the best thing to say. In all fairness, though, he was going to then follow-up with confessing his love for you. But of course, you didn’t know that. How could you? This whole night had taken a toll on your emotions and feelings. You didn’t know when to laugh or when to scoff. Now, though, you knew that this was a time to yell and scold.

“I cannot believe you. Have you learned nothing! I heard Lily yelling at you in there. Although I couldn’t hear what she was saying, I assumed she was scolding you. But, I guess not. Man, it’s just like you, innit? You just have to ruin a perfectly good moment with your stupid, witty comments that you think are funny. Well, newsflash, they aren’t —”

“Y/n, I-I’m sorry. I really am. I’m stupid, I know. I —”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you scoffed. “You’re a fucking prick, Sirius Black. I don’t know why I even try with you.” You got up off the bench while speaking, not wanting to be around him anymore.

“Fuck you, Sirius. Fuck you!”

You began to walk away, and in panic, Sirius got up and grabbed your arm. You yelped as he spun you around. He wrapped his left arm around your waist as you collided with his chest. You glared at him, not believing what he was trying to do.

“Nice try, Sirius, but —”

“Shut up for the love of Dumbledore.” Sirius mumbled before crashing his lips onto yours.

You gasped into the kiss, shocked that he actually went through with it. The shock wore off quickly as you wrapped our arms around his neck, burying your fingers into soft, black locks. Sirius put his right hand around the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You let out a soft moan as his tongue slipped into your mouth. Fireworks seemed to be going off in the back of your minds as you french kissed. 

The kiss was wet, messy, but passionate nonetheless. Your tongues explored each other’s mouths, grunting and moaning as they met every so often. You kissed him harder, furrowing your brows as you leaned into him more, deepening the kiss. Sirius groaned as you pulled on the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands tightened around your waist, bunching up your sweater in the process. His fingertips traced the exposed skin above your skirt, making you gasp and giggle into the kiss as it tickled, but also excited you. 

A few more moments passed before you two needed air. You pulled away, having to practically force yourself off of him. You looked at him with wide eyes, your lips swollen and wet. Sirius's lips had your lipstick smeared all over them, him being able to taste it when he licked his lips. 

You two just stood there in each other’s arms for another minute, fully coming to terms with what just happened. Your face irrupted into a happy, bright smile. You started to laugh, too. Sirius mirrored your expression, beginning to laugh with you. 

“W-Why are we laughing?” Sirius asked. “B-Because,” you gasped. “We just k-kissed,” you giggled. 

Sirius stopped laughing, pulling a concerned face. “Is that a bad thing?”

Your laugh faltered and you looked him in the eyes. You moved your left hand to cup his cheek, shaking your head with a soft, reassuring smile.

“No, of course not. In fact, I’d love to do it again,” you stated. 

“Oh, really?” Sirius raised his brows. 

“Mhmm.” You hummed with a smile, leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

The second kiss was more sensual, passionate, and chaste. You breathed deeply into the kiss, pressing yourself against his slowly as your lips moved with his in a tender manner. 

Sirius was the first one to pull away this time. You let out a little whine as you wanted to keep kissing him. 

“Say, why don’t I take you out on a proper date. No Lily and James, no fighting, none of that. Does Saturday at 7 work for you?” Sirius suggested. 

You were left grinning from ear-to-ear with his proposal. You nodded furiously, throwing yourself at him and kissing him again. Sirius laughed into the kiss, lifting you up and spinning you around.

Lily and James were leaning against the door of The Leaky Cauldron, smiling proudly at the two of you. 

“See, told you they would get together,” James rubbed Lily’s shoulders. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lily rolled her eyes with a smile. She leaned into James, sighing in content as her head rested at the crook of his neck. 

“Why don’t I take you on a regular date Saturday, too?” James suggested. 

“What do you have in mind?” Lily looked up at him. 

“Hm… picnic by The Black Lake?” James proposed. “Sounds perfect,” Lily smiled, leaning up to kiss her boyfriend’s lips. 

The two jumped apart as they suddenly heard shouting coming from your and Sirius. 

Lily groaned, “You have to be kidding me.” 

“Looks like somethings never change,” James chuckled. 

————

Like and Reblog! add yourself to my taglist here 

taglist (crossed out means i couldn’t tag)

@daisyyy2516​ @maybanksslut​, @angstology​ @thefandomchoosesthewizard​ @myalupinblack​ @v4l3nt1n44​ @slut4drvc0​

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Hello! I had a question;

I was wondering if you’ve seen Love in the Air and what your opinion of it was if you have? And also, if you have, who your fav couple was?

Hello lovely anon! 🌼 Thank you very much for passing by and asking this questions 😄

I was wondering if you've seen Love in the Air?

I have indeed seen Lita and have a somewhat difficult relationship with the series.

What your opinion of it was if you have?

I read some opinions about the series and was fascinated by the glorification and the complete rejection of the whole thing. Everyone has to decide for themselves what they like and how they interpret things. I interpret many things in a more de-romanticised way than some others. And I don't want to offend anyone with the following comments! Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and interpretation of the subject.

Problem 1: The beginning of Phayu and Rain's story. I read sa out of all the things Phayu did in the beginning, while others say he's just a good Dom who can read body language like his mother tongue and Mame has a No-kink. She can have that, but Rain has not indicated to Phayu that he has this kink and is playing his game. There is no consent during the first encounters and that is what I would like to have in order to find a story good and to enjoy it. And to say that Rain doesn't fight back and we get to hear the inner monologue doesn't make it any better. Let's play a little game. Scene is Phayu's room on the bed and he is just lying over Rain, whom he has known for five minutes. Only this isn't Phayu but a much more unattractive and uncharismatic person, maybe with a belly, greasy hair, pimples and a nasty grin on his face. Is that sexy as hell, what he's doing? Can he still interpret Rain's body language correctly? Do they continue to have fun and live out their kinks? Do we continue to root for this person? Just because people are attractive doesn't mean what they do is right.

Problem 2: Victim blaming. To me, Rain is a victim in the beginning. And Phayu's statement that Rain seduced him is really off in my eyes. You broke your car on purpose so you and I could get in touch. That's like saying she was wearing a short dress, that was an invitation for me after all. You can talk about it and ask if it was intentional or all coincidence, but don't imply anything or then interpret it in such a way that you can just take what you think the other person is offering. Consent. What is so difficult about that?

Problem 3: Love heals everything. Sky is a traumatised young man who has experienced terrible things. To believe that his trauma will simply disappear through the sincere love of another person is so absurdly dangerously romanticised. I understand the desire behind it, that a pure love can heal everything and make you feel complete and loved again. And here again there are two camps. I belong to the camp that rejects this way of thinking. I think a good, healthy love can help someone to take the next step, to seek professional help for example, but it is not the universal cure. And Prapai's love is too obsessive for me. It may be that it takes someone pushy enough to break through Sky's shell to allow him to love again at all, but the way it's portrayed is not good in my eyes. It's dangerous to put an image like that out there and sell it as if all you have to do is be pushy enough and everything will be fine. I don't know exactly how to put it. The ideas of love and relationship are too toxic in my eyes. And again, I like to play the game of what if...What if Prapai wasn't this absolutely beautiful man? Or Sky for that matter? Sky would then just be a pitiful soul in desperate need of therapy and Prapai would be a creepy stalker who belongs behind bars or at least needs a restraining order.

Problem 4: The one-night stand...Oh how I suffered during the whole thing and afterwards seeing all the edits and all the comments about how hot they were. Sky sold himself out so he could escape punishment, because he knew only this way to escape, to have some peace, to help himself. That sex had a really questionable consent, especially when you add Sky's reaction afterwards into the whole thing. And at the very beginning though, I also have to ask, what's sexy about Sky saying then do what you want and Prapai just taking him? I mean, yes, I can see what's appealing about it in another medium for the right target audience, but here it's a series that plays outside the raunchy genre. Satisfying fantasies is fine, but romanticised r*pe or sa is one of the things I find more than a little problematic about this series.

I'll leave it at these problems, as they were the biggest difficulties for me. Besides these problems with Mame's idea of love and a healthy relationship, I found the dialogue just shamefully corny. I don't handle that sort of thing well. I found that really bad in Tharntype, too. Every sentence is dripping with cheesy emotion. It's not my thing.

Not to be only negative, one thing I really liked was the acceptance of one's own sexuality. There was no long denial or this terrible I'm only gay for you shit. I quite liked that.

And also, if you have, who your fav couple was?

Do I have a favourite couple? I'm leaning towards Phayu and Rain because they go from a toxic start to a fairly healthy realtionship after all over the course of the story. I think if you don't think too much about the circumstances of how they met, you can see that Phayu is good for Rain and they work really well together.

So, dear Anon, you asked me for my opinion and here it is. It is my very own opinion and as I mentioned earlier, everyone is allowed to have their own on this. I don't want to argue with anyone or attack anyone. Just because I look at things from my point of view doesn't mean I look at them the wrong way. I just look at them differently. And if people take a liking to it and this idea of "love can heal everything" is good for them, then that's absolutely fine and I am happy they found something that they can appreciate and that perhaps even helps them. Maybe I'm looking a bit too negatively at the possible effects or influences of media.

[drama--universe]

Bad boy and his girl

Requested by anonymous: Hello! I was wondering if you could do a modern ah with Xue Yang? Maybe something along the lines reader rebels against parents and dates him with a fluff ending? Thank you!🥰💗

Word Count: 2223 words

Warnings: toxic parents, cliché, Xue Yang's a bit OC-ish (sorry)

A/n I also want to say that the parents could be considered toxic but I wasn't sure if I should label them as toxic or overly strict, but just to be sure I put it in

You slammed the front door behind you, hoping your parents would hear it loud and clear. You just had another fight and at this point you were sick of them seeking trouble with you. Everyday was a new argument, you could never do something right for them. Your usual points never got praise, but once you had one lesser points and you were a mistake of the family. Unlike your brother, wo's grades were lower than the bloody sea, yet he was the best thing in the world. After all, he would get the family business while you would simply marry a rich man that your parents chose (not like you were going to, but they didn't listen).

The bus arrived and you got on, sitting on the back next to the window. After 10 minutes, you got of and walked to school. You were still in a bad mood, but it just got worse when a motorcycle zipped in front of you. You stumbled before glaring at the person, which you already knew to be Xue Yang.

He was the infamous bad boy of your school. Tattoos, motorcycle, smoked and had a general bad attitude towards school, which was surprising when you realized that he was friends with Xiao Xingchen who was a pretty good student. You didn't necessarily hated him, but rather you were just jealous. He could live the life he wanted and you were jealous because of that.

You shook your head and continued to walk to your class. You entered and suddenly all eyes were on you. You frowned, looking behind you and there stood Xue Yang. He was on time... Xue Yang who never bothered to show up to class and hung around on the roof, was 10 minutes early.

"Am I that good looking, sweetheart?" "In your dreams." You sneered back and he scoffed, walking past you and sitting down in his seat at the back. You sighed and walked to your own seat. Laying your bag on top of your desk before grabbing your phone. You scrolled the news as you waited for the bell to ring. When it did, you put your phone into your bag.

Class started and before you knew it, lunch approached. The bell rang loudly and most students ran out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang. You just waited for a bit before you stood up as well, grabbing your food card and phone before you walked out. You didn't notice the eyes that followed you nor did you hear them following you until you heard the whispers. Then you noticed Xue Yang following you and you bit your lip, turning around and marching his way. You then grabbed his arm and dragged him along to an empty hall.

"Why are you following me?" "Can't I?" He said, leaning down to meet your height and to stand face to face. You sighed, looking away before looking back at him. His face was inches from yours and you noticed his face tattoo. A small moon with a constellation next to it (the cancer constellation). You also noticed a few freckles.

"What do you want?" You sneered and he gave you a smirk.

"Go on a date with me." He said and you glared at him before thinking it through. It would piss your parents off if you did... and it was not like he was that bad looking. Worth it.

"Sure, after school of course." You commented before turning around to walk back, but freezing when you heard him whine.

"Fine~" He whined and you chuckled before continuing back to the cafeteria to get some food. He followed you, like a guard dog, as the other students started to whisper once again. You ignored it and grabbed your food.

The rest of the day went the same way, mostly with Xue Yang hanging around you. When the school day ended, instead of going to your after school lesson, you waited for Xue Yang by his motorcycle. After only 3 minutes, he reached, leaning against his motorcycle as he looked at you.

"Where are we going then?" You asked and he smirked before handing you a helmet. "You carry an extra helmet?" You asked and he scoffed again before putting his own on and throwing his leg over the motorcycle. He looked your way and you got on behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He drover off and your grip tightened slightly. You drove for about 15 minutes before he stopped driving. You looked around before spotting a fair. You took your helmet off as you got off of the motorcycle before looking at him again.

"A fair?" "I'm good at shooting games." He shrugged and you chuckled, handing him the helmet before turning to the fair. It was small, but it looked fun. Xue Yang locked his motorcycle before grabbing your hand and leading you to the fair. He then stopped, looking at you.

"What do you want to do?" He asked and you looked up before looking around again. You didn't know anything and looked at him sheepishly.

"I've never been on a fair, so I don't really know anything." You admitted and he raised an eyebrow at you before smirking.

"Well, first time for everything." He said and you nodded. He leaded you to what looked like a shooting stand. He paid before grabbing a gun and handing it to you. You looked at him confusingly and he chuckled again as you took it in your hands. He stood behind you and showed you how to hold the gun before helping you aim. You pulled the trigger and one of the balloons popped. You smiled brightly, turning to face him only to jump back when your noses touched.

"Thank you..." You mumbled before aiming again and hitting 2 more balloons. You paused, glancing at Xue Yang to see his reaction. He was just smiling and you bit your lip to hide your own smile before aiming at the balloons again. You shot 2 more balloons before looking at the owner of the stand.

"You can choose one of these." The man said and you looked around before spotting a black panther plushie keychain. You pointed at and the vendor smiled, grabbing the plushie and giving it to you. You thanked him before turning to Xue Yang. You held it out to him and he looked at it with a raised eyebrow.

"For you." "It's usually the man who gifts something to the girl." He said and you frowned, taking his hand and placing the keychain in it.

"I don't like gender roles. Now take it." You said and he chuckled again before placing it in his pocket.

"Attraction next." He then said and you frowned as he dragged you along to what seemed to be the tallest attraction of the whole fair. As you waited in line, you couldn't help but feel nervous as you heard the screams. You debated for a few seconds before grabbing Xue Yang's shirt and clinging to him. He turned his head to look at you before grabbing your hands and removing them from his shirt. You pouted until you felt his arm on your shoulders. You looked at him again before getting a bit closer to him. The line moved quite fast and before you knew it, you were sitting in the front row with the bars already down over your shoulders. You had already grabbed his hand to hold on too and waited for the countdown.

"Ah, couple in the front he? I don't like couples!" The announcer of the ride spoke before you were suddenly launched off into the first loop. You screamed loudly for the whole ride and when you arrived back in the loading station, your hair was a mess and Xue Yang was most likely in pain.

"Oh, someone's getting dumped!" The announcer joked as the bars lifted. You quickly got out of the ride and waited for Xue Yang before leaving the attraction.

"I hate that... I need food." You said, looking around for a food stand. Once again, you were dragged to another stand. The food seemed very greasy and unhealthy, but you could care less as Xue Yang ordered the food. You waited at the table and Xue Yang made his way back with the food and you smiled, thanking him as you helped him put down the food. Just then, your phone rang and you pulled it out of your pocket.

"Ah, it's my mom..." "Take it, I don't mind." He said as he took a bite out of his own food. You nodded with a smile, sliding the icon to the green phone thingy and then put it on your ear.

"Where are you?!" She screeched and you pulled the phone away from your ear, hissing in pain. The smile you had was already gone as you tried to think for an answer. Xue Yang looked at you before grabbing your phone.

"Don't worry ma'am, I'll get your daughter home safely after our date." And then he hung up, handing you your phone like he had not just done that. You took it, turning your phone off before taking a bite of your food.

"Wah, this is good." You said, taking another bite happily. "You learn something new everyday." He said before taking his own phone, holding it out to you.

"Put your number in." He said as he continued to eat. You took another bite before putting down your cutlery and taking the phone. After putting your number in, you handed the phone back and continued to eat.

You went to a few more places, winning a few more plushies (whish Xue Yang gave to you this time) and then came the time to go home. It was already 10 pm by now and 10:30 pm when you arrived at your house. You could see your mother by the door, glaring at the two of you. You got off and gave him the helmet you wore.

"Thanks for today, it was really fun." You smiled and he smirked, sitting on his bike.

"Tomorrow as well?" "Sure." You said before acing on impulse again and kissing his cheek before going to your house, dragging the bag of plushies behind you. You entered the house, ignoring the stares from both of your parents and going to your room. You closed the door and laid on your bed.

Yeah, you were grounded for 2 weeks the next day. You had already sent the info to Xue Yang, but he had only read it. You on the other hand, were literally locked in your room by your parents (and you had no key or inside lock yourself) and you were just laying on your bed. You didn't want to study and you had nothing else in your room besides your phone, yet had no internet since your parents had blocked you from the network. How you had survived until 3 pm was a miracle.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you heard a knock on your window. You jumped up and stared at the window. There was Xue Yang, his famous smirk already making you feel happy as you walked to the window and opened it.

"What are you doing here?" "Picking you up of course. Saving the princess from her locked room." He teased and you looked at him for a few seconds before nodding.

"I need to change, wait down there. And hide!" You whispered and he nodded, climbing down the tree again. You quickly changed into your favorite outfit (which might have matched a bit with Xue Yang) and pulled some shoes on before taking your wallet and phone. You turned off the light of your room and climb out of the window and down the tree. Xue Yang was waiting there with his motorcycle. It was then that you noticed the panther keychain that hung on the motorcycles key. You smiled before grabbing the helmet he held out. You got on before flinching when you heard your mother screech once again, hanging out of your window as she screamed at you.

"Go, go, go!" You exclaimed and you drove off again to your next destination. You arrived at an arcade.

"Let me guess, you're good at shooting games?" You asked and he shrugged as he pulled the keys from his motorcycle. You went inside and the happy music made you happy immediately. You started to game, Xue Yang showing you how to do everything as you moved from game to game. By the end (5 hours later), you had about 300 tickets and you had probably wasted tons of money. Now it was to decide what to get with the tickets. You didn't want another plushie, so the plushie section was excluded, and the other side was mostly kid stuff. The only thing that you could see was jewelry. And most wasn't your style, but you didn't get to choose as Xue Yang handed the man the tickets. You looked at him as the man handed him a box and he nodded before pulling you out of the arcade.

"What you get?" You asked and he looked at you before telling you to turn around. You did before smiling when you saw a necklace in front of you before he locked it around your neck. You looked down at the necklace, it being a small panther cub necklace.

You smiled again and turned back around. He rolled his eyes at you bright smile before handing you the helmet. You put it on and sat behind him again. He brought you back home like before and once again, your mother was once again at the door. You could care less as you dismounted the motorcycle and handed him the helmet once again.

"Keep the window open." He whispered and your eyes widened in shock.

"You're going to get me end up with bars on my window." You joked and he chuckled. You then leaned up, quickly kissing him before walking to your house and leaving behind a shocked Xue Yang. You once again ignored your mothers screeching, locking yourself in your room once again. You could hear the door lock from the outside and sighed, quickly changing into sweatpants and a hoodie before opening your window. You leaned out of your window, looking down to see Xue Yang. His motorcycle was parked behind your house and he was hiding behind the tree.

"Xue Yang!" You whisper-yelled and he looked up before smirking, starting to climb. Once he reached your window, he climbed inside your room and you closed the window again. You didn't lock it, so that if necessary he could escape quickly. You laid on your bed and after taking his choose and jacket off, he laid next to you. You turned to face him and he laid his arm underneath your head. You laid your head on his arm, still looking at him with a small smile. You staid like that until you fell asleep, not caring if your parents would find you like this as you hugged the man next to you.

[wicked-mind]

Remember Me: Chapter One

Summary: Y/N and Bucky were the unlikely match when it came to love, but they were inseparable since they met. After a fight, Y/N left to be a trauma surgeon in the military and returns without her memories. How will Bucky remind Y/N how she is the fire in his bones? Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Talk of military and getting shot, memory loss.

Series Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

*gifs not mine

Chapter one - Alive

“This is everything I’ve dreamed about, James! You know that this was always the plan! You knew from the moment I went to med school, through internship and residency that this is what I was going to do!”

“This wasn’t my plan, Y/N! My plan was to grow up, have a family together, not you going halfway around the world to get blown up!”

“I’m not going to get blown up, god! I’m going to be a trauma surgeon. I’m going to be serving my country, just like you and Steve did! I’ll come back, Buck!”

“Yeah.. Well, if you walk out those doors don’t bother coming back because I won’t be here waiting for you.”

Those words had echoed in Bucky’s mind since he said them. He had watched Y/N, the love of his life, walk out the door and he had told her he wouldn’t be waiting for her when she got back. That was a lie. He waited for her every second of everyday to call, to write him letters from abroad, even show up at his doorstep but that day never came and he was still stuck waiting for her 18 months later. That day was the worst day of his life. He had broken not only the heart of his best friend’s sister, but also broke himself. Y/N was the love of his life and he knew it since he met her. She had came back to live with her brother after she graduated early from a private school when she was sixteen and from the moment he met her, Bucky knew she was the one. They were like fire and ice, total opposites. Bucky was the bad boy who was always riding his too loud of a Harley in the small town and Y/N was the smart girl that graduated at the age of sixteen who had her head screwed on right except when it came to him. Y/N had stuck by Bucky when he served in the army with her brother, writing him letters every chance she could while she fast-tracked through med school. When he returned from deployment, she was the one who helped him through his PTSD even through she was a surgical intern at the time and running on no sleep.

After Y/N left, Bucky immediately regretted the words. He always had a fear of being abandoned as well as her returning as broken from a war as he was and he took that out on Y/N. He tried to get the address he could write her letters to tell her how sorry he was, but Steve wouldn’t give it to him due to the fact Y/N didn’t want to hear from Bucky after what he said. She had heard enough and broke her heart the night he told her to never come back and that’s what she planned to do. She kept stacking on more months of her deployment just to avoid him. Bucky drowned his sorrows in bottle after bottle of whiskey since his light went away. She was the fire that kept him going but now the flame seemed to be extinguished. It took a while for Steve and Bucky to get close again after Steve heard what was said, but they were best friends and always there for each other. Bucky even moved in down the street from Steve, wanting to stay close to the only family he’s known and hoping one day he would see Y/N return.

The day Steve got the call from a military official stating Y/N had been injured it seemed like time had stopped for Bucky. Their friend group was gathered for a BBQ that night. Nobody  knew the severity of the injuries, but Steve had left immediately on a plane since his sister was too unstable to travel stateside at the time. Bucky had tried multiple times to get more information on Y/N from Steve, but he never said very much. Eventually the truth came out though when Y/N was stable enough to be transferred stateside to a hospital in her home town. Y/N’s medical base where she was stationed had been attacked and raided. She had been shot in the head behind her ear, causing severe memory loss but that was better than death. It took her a while to remember who Steve was, but eventually she did. She remembered she was a talented surgeon who enlisted in the army and could remember every surgical procedure she had been trained for but not much else than that. 

The day Y/N got the all clear to come home, Peggy had arranged for a welcome home party and BBQ. All of their friends were there, including Bucky. He was sitting on the porch with a beer in his hand waiting for Steve to bring Y/N home. He wanted to see if she remembered him at all, but he hoped she didn’t remember what he had told her the night she left. His head snapped up as he saw Steve’s car pull up next to his Harley in the driveway, standing quickly. He could see Y/N’s blonde hair through the tinted windows flipping around as she picked up something that had been placed by her feet. Then his heart seemed to stop when she got out of the car and he panicked, turning and walking into the house to head to the backyard before Y/N could see him. 

Y/N had caught a glimpse of Bucky’s back as he walked into the house, narrowing her eyes slowly, “Who was that, Steve?” She asks looking over to her brother who was carrying a duffel bag of her belongs.

Steve had seen Bucky waiting the moment he pulled into the driveway and also watched him flee. He sighed deeply before smiling over at his sister, “That’s Bucky. He’s my best friend, you’ve known him since you were sixteen.” He told her, watching as his sister’s nose scrunched as if trying to remember, “It’s alright, take it slow. You aren’t going to remember everything in one day.”

Y/N nodded to her brother then looked at the house. She didn’t recognize it, but it looked like home to her. She followed Steve inside and looked around at everything she could, trying to remember anything in the house with no avail. She was quickly greeted by a hug from Peggy, who she recognized because Steve had shown her photos and told her stories of his wife. She walked through greeting everybody who reintroduced themselves to her. She had re-met Clint and his wife Laura as well as their kids, Sam, Tony and Pepper, Natasha and her husband Bruce. The only person she hadn’t yet been able to talk to was the man named Bucky. After finishing a burger, she walked around Steve’s house, looking at all the pictures on the wall. There were some of her with Steve and even pictures of her when she graduated from med school but then there were some of her on the back of Bucky’s Harley. The two of them were grinning ear to ear from behind dark sunglasses. Y/N finally tracked Bucky down to find him sitting on the porch of the house again. She snuck up behind him and sat down next to him, “Is there a reason you keep running from me?” She asked him.

Bucky was caught off guard with Y/N sneaking up behind him and even more surprised when she sat down next to him. He never thought he would have her this close to him again, “No… I’m sorry.” He said, looking down at the beer bottle in his hand, “It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen you.”

Y/N nodded at his words, “Yeah, well, in my mind it’s been forever since I’ve seen you. So long, in fact that I don’t even remember your name.” She joked as she smiled at him, “So reintroduce yourself, it’s only the gentleman thing to do.”

Bucky couldn’t help that his lips twisted into a curve at her words. She sounded happy and honest like she wanted to know him. He wondered what Steve had told her about him. He reached out a hand for her to shake, “Nice to meet you again, Y/N. I’m James, but you’ve been calling me Bucky since you were sixteen.” He remembered the day they met. She was sixteen and already much too smart to fall for him, but she did. Y/N would even sneak out to meet him and ride his dirt bike he had at the time into the night before he would sneak her back home. 

Y/N smiled, shaking his hand, “Well, it’s very nice to meet you again, Bucky.” She released his hand and looked over to his Harley in the driveway, “Judging from the pictures on the wall inside, I’m going to assume that’s yours.”

Bucky followed her gaze to his motorcycle, nodding as he took a swig of his beer, “Yeah, that’s mine.” He knew exactly what pictures Y/N was talking about. Most of them were taken in Steve’s driveway, her sitting behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist with big smiles on both of their faces, “You helped me build her, or rebuild her I should say. You handed me the tools.” He couldn’t help but smile at the memory. It had been a quiet night of them working in his garage at his house. It ended with Bucky dirtying Y/N’s white tank top and skin with his greasy handprints.

Y/N scrunched her nose as if trying to focus on remembering the memory to no avail once again, but it sounded like it was fun so she just smiled at his words, “You’d think I’d remember that and I’m sorry I don’t. Sounds like it was fun. All I can remember now is bits and pieces of Steve and then a bunch of surgical procedures. So if you need to know how to do an appendectomy, I can help with that.” She chuckles before returning her gaze to his Harley, “Did I like it? Riding with you I mean.”

Bucky again smiled at Y/N’s comment. He remembered when he met her she told him she was going to be a surgeon and he couldn’t picture a pretty girl like her cutting people open, but she did everything she said she was going to do. When she asked the question, he froze. He didn’t know what to say but then found the perfect words without giving too much away about how he felt about her, “I’ve never seen you more alive than when you were riding with me, doll. You said it always matched the feeling of when you did surgery. I never knew what that meant.”

Y/N knew exactly what that meant. She loved being a surgeon, it exhilarated her and scared her all at the same time. That feeling when she was performing surgery was one she couldn’t forget and it made her wonder how she could forget the feeling riding on a motorcycle. She bit her lip and looked over at him, “I don’t remember…” She told him, “But maybe you can remind me.”

It took everything in Bucky not to swoop Y/N up and put her on his bike, but he couldn’t do that yet. They were practically strangers and he knew if he took her on a ride he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from saying he loved her and taking her to his home, “Some other time, I don’t think your brother would be good with taking his sister who has a brain injury on a ride right now.” He excused with a pained smile.

Y/N nodded, noticing people coming out from the backyard to leave. She gave each of them a wave before continuing, “You’re probably right.” She said looking down at her hands, “Steve treats me like I’m glass. Even meeting everybody today, they look at me like I’m going to break at any moment because I can’t remember anything. Even you ran.”

Bucky watched Y/N gaze at her hands, frowning a little at her words. She sounded defeated that everybody thought she was so helpless and breakable and he wasn’t helping, “I know you’re not glass, Y/N. You’re the smartest and strongest person I know. I’m sorry I didn’t say hello, that was a real asshat move of me.”

Y/N smiled a little at his words, looking back at him from under her dark eyelashes, “It’s okay.” She bit her lip softly before continuing, “You’re easy to talk to, Bucky. We must’ve been really close because it just comes easy to talk to you about stuff.”

Bucky swallowed hard, not knowing what to say to her. He took the last drink of his beer before setting it down beside him, finally looking over at the pretty face he had missed so much, “We were pretty close.” He admitted softly to her, “You knew everything about me and I knew everything about you. I hope one day we can get back to that point.” 

Y/N smiled at him, “I think we will. I have a feeling you’re the person I’m going to be coming to when Steve is driving me nuts as older brothers do.” She chuckles a little bit, before hearing the door behind her to see Steve looking at Bucky and Y/N, “Hiya, Stevie.” 

Steve’s eyes flickered between the two curiously, “Everybody’s pretty much cleared out, we were just finishing cleaning up and getting ready for bed.” He informed the two before being dragged away by Peggy back inside.

Y/N looked back over to Bucky with a smile, “Like I said, driving me nuts and treating me like glass. I have a bed time now.” She stood up, biting her lip as Bucky stood also beside her, watching her face with a smile, “I guess I’ll see you later. Don’t be a stranger, Bucky.” She said with a soft squeeze of his arm before disappearing into the house. Bucky watched her go back inside. When she was gone, he took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. He still felt everything for her and watching her walk away instead of coming home with him where she belonged made it feel like his heart was breaking all over again. Bucky decided in that instant that he would help Y/N remember everything she wanted and help her remember their relationship. The woman he loved was still in there and he just had to find her. He walked down to his motorcycle, straddling his legs over it and with a roar, making it come to life. He took one last look at the house where Y/N was in before zooming down the street back home.

[goldenlaquer]

Hi ! Can I request you a rival to lovers short story/ One shot with Sougo please 🥺 ?

In which boys tease the girls they like by setting them on fire. 

AHHH SORRY FOR THE WAIT.

Who Runs the World? Sadists. (Okita Sougo One-shot): 

He is handsome, that much you can admit.

But you also think appreciating aesthetic beauty can be compartmentalized. It is something you can notice, and store in a box to shove in the darkest recesses of your mind, and then think nothing further about the person other than how much you’d like to run over him with an eighteen-wheeler.

So, here is how it is:

Out of context, he is handsome.

In context, he is the most trying, insensitive, sadistic, arrogant, lying dickwad to haunt the face of the Earth and your general vicinity.

You say the second part of this to him whilst kicking the back of his knees (something he very much deserved after slicing the top of your ice cream right off the cone), and he effortlessly dodges and grabs your hair to plant your face against the nearest streetlamp.

When you peel your face off with blood and vengeance dripping off your face, there is a smug smile on his face.

And you are further angered by how, even against the orange-yellow lights of the streetlamp and the darkness of the fading sky, that ugly, infuriating smile does not diminish the prettiness of his face.

And then you are even angrier for even noticing this.

Aesthetic beauty can be compartmentalized. You just aren’t very good at it.

—

You tell him that you wish that he’d fuck off. But only after reimbursing your ice cream.

He tells you to stop thinking about fucking him. And also that you should be thanking him for saving you the trouble of having to buy another gym subscription that you’ll never use again after the first visit.

Again, he dodges the kick, this time aimed at his balls.

—

You sometimes forget that he is in the police force. A fact that makes you shudder for society.

After long moments of name-calling and low blows to genital areas, he tucks his hands into the pockets of his uniform and strides away, no doubt bored of making fun of your existence.

Stop being a nuisance and get off the streets at night, he calls over his shoulder in monotone. He’d have nothing to do if you scared off all the thieves and rapists with your nasty breath smogging up the air.

You are left behind with a soggy waffle cone in your grip. If you didn’t know better, it sounded as if he cared.

—

The universe is playing a cruel and extremely hilarious joke on you.

Because everywhere you go, he is there.

You take a discreet whiff of yourself. Is there something in your perfume that attracts cockroaches?

He is there at the grocery store. Reaching for the last carton of milk at the same time as you do. He refuses to let go, silently staring at you with his red eyes to give up. You sure as hell won’t. You hold on tight and tug. He tugs back. You use two hands and heave. He lets go of the carton and you fly.

At the library. Perusing a manga when you stumble across him. And you would have turned right back around, but the seat across from him just so happens to be the only open one in the entire building. So you mentally curse the other people for educating themselves and suck it up, gingerly placing your tush on the edge of the chair, afraid of the very possible reality of him placing something there that could send you to the hospital. For the most part, the interaction is harmless, the both of you ignore each other until he yawns, loudly, and you glare at him for the rudeness, and he smirks (a warning sign) and proceeds to full-on whine your name out in a high-pitched voice, in the middle of studying students. You and him are kicked out by a buff onee-san with a month-long ban for public indecency despite your many attempts to tell her that you did not touch him, especially like that. Hot blood pools in your cheeks. For two reasons.

Even at the little goldmine of a ramen eatery you have miraculously discovered by sheer luck. Its location is isolated from the usual Edo traffic, hidden in a tiny dingy alley, but their bowls are little pieces of heaven: charred chashu slices that melt across the tongue in smokey savoriness, thin hand-made noodles that have just the right give and firmness, a golden broth that does not taste greasy or heavy and sucker-punches you across the face with umami. This eatery you have found is a safe haven, or so you think until you walk in and see Okita Sougo, schlurping up the last of his noodles and holding up his bowl to ask for seconds.

How is it that you can barely step out the front door of your home without seeing him? Doesn't he have a job? How can one person have so much free time?

(Somewhere, Hijikata is howling his first name.)

—

Once again, the universe makes sure that the only available seat is next to him.

You sit. He comments about how he’s flattered but he’s going to get a restraining order if this continues. You say bullshit, bullcrap, bulldiarrhea— if anyone’s stalking anyone it would be him, creep. He says that he’s not stalking you, he’s making sure that you don’t commit any crimes, and you say, quietly:

So you are following me?

He replaces his reply with an obnoxious noodle slurp. It is all the answer you need.

—

He is not there for two weeks. Two weeks. Two weeks of no sadists. Two weeks of no arguments and fighting. Two weeks of jumping for joy. Two weeks of jumping at shadows. Two weeks of silence. Two weeks of looking at ramen and thinking ‘ah, he’s not here’. Two whole weeks of no Okita Sougo.

You feel… awkward.

Except, awkward is not the word. Ridiculous. Absolutely preposterous. The word is alleviated, instead.

You are alleviated.

You think about the reason for this sudden change. You wonder if he is avoiding you. If so, It must have been back at the ramen place where you last saw him. Something he had said and something you had said.

Something revelatory.

Or he had become truly bored with you and moved on to another toy to play with.

You’re not sure which one leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

—

You see him again in the middle of the third week.

You are walking late at night, when you hear,

What did I tell you? Stop walking so late at night. You’re infecting everyone with your dumb braincells, moron.

You like to think that the only emotion on your face when you slowly turn to him is cool indifference, and you tell him that you don’t speak to stalkers.

Without missing a beat, he says, who would want to stalk such an ugly woman like you?

He pushes off the streetlamp he is leaning against and stalks towards you, long legs carrying him swiftly to stand in front of you. The orange- yellow lights reflect off brown, and long lashes lowers down on red as he looks at you with an expression that kinda makes you lose your breath.

You skin itches and something bubbles up inside you that wants to break free from your mouth.

Shut up. You tell yourself. Don’t say anything.

Where were you for the last two weeks?

Damn it.

Long lashes blink and pink lips slowly curve. Miss me?

No. Not. At. All. You were doing fantastic without him there to ruin everything. You just wanted to know so that you could send condolence flowers to the person he’s bothering now.

Well, you’re out of luck, he says, there was never anyone else.

Your toes curl.

So that means, he continues, I’ll be making your life miserable for a while longer.

You disguise your smile with a glare. Stalker.

Like I said, who would stalk such an ugly woman?

You start walking in the direction of your home. He follows next to you, shoulder and forearms of his jacket brushing against yours. You, idiot.

You’re the idiot.

No, you.

If I’m an idiot, then you are super idiot.

You’re mega idiot.

You’re infinite idiot.

That doesn’t make sense, idiot.

Only because you’re an idiot, idiot. 

----

Little note: Sougo was gone for two weeks, because surprise surprise, he was on a mission for Shinsengumi and I just couldn’t really slide this tidbit in. Not that it’s really important in the grand scheme of things.

[flufflepuffle296]

Heathers au: Beautiful Songfic

This is more centred around Veronica/Marinette so not really any mentions of Heather/Heather/Heather. Sorry if someone’s done this before I apologise I just got into Heathers like two days ago. Also I changed some lyrics and took others out to make it more “realistic”. Sorry I suck at endings, it’s 5:30am rn and this is my first fic so be nice please! (I’m on mobile so I can’t add the keep reading tag so sorry if you don’t like this) xxx

I brushed down my dress: I couldn’t give them anything to criticise me over. Everything had to be perfect. I had to be perfect. Chloé sat next to me, my beautiful fiancée, slipping on her kitten heels. She may be 3 months pregnant but no Bourgeois woman would be seen wearing flats. I was in a red floor length a line dress — I grew out of my childish pink years ago, before it even went out of fashion! My hair was twisted into two plaits that were knotted together into a stylish bun at the back. Chloé meanwhile had stuck to her white and gold aesthetic, currently in a slim fitting white dress, showing off her small baby bump, decorated with gold jewellery. I rummaged through my drawers, trying to find a lipstick, when a thin book toppled out. I picked it up, and laughed fondly when I saw what it was.

My old Collège and Lycée diary.

I flipped through it, landing on the page that stuck most clearly in my mind. It was the day my class reminded me of my current reality at that time, shocking me out of a bubble that had surrounded me during the summer holidays that year.

September 1st, 1989.

Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year!

And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?

I bit my lip. What happened? I knew darn well what happened. Lila Rossi. She came in, flaunting her friendships and connections, a new disability every other week to cry about, another rumour about me coming out every 3 days.

Alya ended our friendship, Adrien continued to cry about Lila’s feelings. Lila just kept doing what she did best. The class gave up on changing my mind and instead decided that calling me names would be better. Because logic?!

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Burnout!” “Bug-eyes!” “Poser!” “Lard-ass!” Were the insults they liked to yell daily. Yeah, they weren’t the most creative...

We were so tiny, happy and shiny. Playing tag and getting chased. Singing and clapping, laughing and napping. Baking cookies, eating paste.

Nino and Kim used to come over to the bakery when we were kids, where we’d gorge ourselves on sweets, before celebrating our sugar rushes by chasing each other in the park and then crashing on my sofa, cuddled in blankets and laying on top of each other.

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger. Like the Huns invading Rome. Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: This is the Thunderdome. Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon. College will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful...Just not today.

I scoffed at my optimism back then. Them changing? They never did, I don’t know why I bothered trying at that point. I should’ve moved on but hey! We all make mistakes. It’s just that sometimes you make 11 friendships worth of mistakes.

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Cripple!” “Homo!” “Homo!” “Homo!”

I cringed as I read their old “insults”. They would write homophobic messages across my locker, getting Alix to spray paint a few slurs across my work after I came out as bisexual.

Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma. Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls, no smoky French cafés. Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!

I had purposefully sent out applications to universities far away from these people, from Paris. All three schools accepted me, something I can’t say about my classmates, most of whom were rejected for essays on false information (sourced by Lila) and a quick scan over the Ladyblog meant not a single newspaper would even consider my ex-best friend. Gabriel Agreste, as I later found out through my internship in America, had to bribe several schools with double tuition to get even one to accept Adrien, after he got exposed as sexual harasser and disgraced hero “Chat Noir”. I turned back to my diary, having to peel off rock hard gum from the page that someone had smeared in “revenge”.

Le Chiên Kim. Third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.

“What did you say to me, skank?” He would yell, his fist raised in the hallway.

“Aah, nothing!” I then cowered. I may be Ladybug, but he was 150lbs of pure rage. No one can compete with that!

But I know, I know... Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. We can be beautiful...

“Marinette! Wide load! Honnnnnk!”

He was the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!”

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” He used to snarl, his hands covered in sauce from knocking my tray.

I stood my ground, I had been practising for this moment. “Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on me. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.”

Kim then smirked, crouching down to eye level and pressing a finger to my forehead. “You have a zit right there...” he pointed out, causing the cafeteria to laugh at my expense.

I used to ask myself “Why... Why do they hate me?”

And hear Adrien whisper “Why don't I fight back?”

Watch as Max Googled “Why do I act like such a creep?”

Listen in on Lila stamping her feet in the bathroom asking “Why won't he date me?” Clearly frustrated.

Kim panicking as he wondered “Why did I hit him?”

And Chloé sob down the phone “Why do I cry myself to sleep?”

I would stay up late, screaming, begging. At my lowest points I would cry out “Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!”

I remember when I first met my real friends. The famed trio had gone into the bathroom and I followed after them, clearly my throat.

“Who are you?”

“Uh... Marinette Dupain Cheng. I crave a boon”

“What boon?” Chloé asked, filing her nails.

“Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. If our class think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone...”

Chloé threw her nail file out and began circling around me, running her hands through my hair, commenting that “For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure!” Before coming to a conclusion.

“And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, and we're on our way. Get this girl some blush; and Kagami, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful.” Sabrina and Kagami, chimed in, echoing her words.

“Let's make her beautiful...”

“Let’s make her beautiful...”

“Make her beautiful...Okay?” Chloé ordered, dragging me out with Kagami and Sabrina, driving me to her hotel. They sat me down, taking my hair out of its bunches and brushing it out. Kagami painted my nails a deep navy with surprising precision, manning my cuticles. Sabrina twirled my hair into a high bun, leaving a few pieces at the front to frame my face. Chloé came back from her wardrobe, throwing a blue blazer and grey skirt at me. I changed into my outfit for them, to which they clapped their hands in glee. They dragged me back to school, taking in everyone’s reactions to the new and improved me. This became my new daily outfit for the rest of the year — the class couldn’t find anything bad about it, and even if they did Chloé would threaten them with her father’s power.

I was happy with my squad. Kagami taught us Japanese and Chloé taught us American English that she’d picked up from her mother. I taught them self defence, under the guise of learning it from my mum, unknowingly training them for the day I would rip Chat Noir’s miraculous from him, before slamming it into Kagami’s palm. I needed help that day, so thrust them bee and the fox miraculous at Chloé and Sabrina respectively. They became permanent heroes, Kagami under the name “Noirette”, Chloé under the new guise of “Buttercup” and Sabrina “Renard Rouge”. Akuma attacks have never lasted more than 15 minutes since we got rid of that alley cat, and we’ve been closing in on Hawkmoth recently.

I shook my head, snapping the crude book shut, throwing the diary in the bin. Today was going to be the day I made peace with all that happened, our 10 year school reunion. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna make up with anyone, just that I will finally leave everything behind. I found my lipstick and smeared on the crimson lip, smacking my lips together. I grabbed my clutch and helped Chloé stand up, though she wobbled a little in her heels. I slid her miraculous into her updo, blowing a kiss at her as to not ruin her makeup.

We met up with Kagami and Sabrina in the hallway, Kagami in a wine red suit with gold jewellery, and Sabrina was in emerald green to compliment her red hair. We stepped into the limo awaiting us outside and set off, arriving at the school 10 minutes later. We walked up the steps, hitching up our dresses and arrived in the courtyard. It had been lit up with fairy lights, with stands of food and drinks scattered around the court. Our old classmates were huddled in small groups, whilst Mlle. Mendeleiev’s was in a large group, enjoying each other’s company after 10 years apart.

No one noticed us, until Rose pointed at me and whispered “Who’s that with Chloé?” The group turned to stare at us, trying to place my face. Adrien looked up from talking to Lila, who seemed to be flaunting a rather tacky Gabriel engagement ring, and whispered,

“Marinette?!”

The class began gossiping amongst themselves, “Marinette? Marinette? Marinette?!”

I ignored them, their childish ways were behind me, and walked up to Aurore and Mireille, fawning over their relationship. They turned Kagami, asking her about her life and squealing over her Olympic medal for fencing. I grinned as I watched my old class, happy that they had moved on from each other — well apart from Alya and Adrien, who were still hooked on Lila. I was finally, content! I thought back on my diary, one particular paragraph standing out to me at this time.

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels, lookin' like hell on wheels...My God, it's beautiful! I feel so beautiful... And when you're beautiful...It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Chloé boasted my achievements, my business, my awards, and the entire of Mendeleiev’s class started chanting “Marinette! Marinette! Marinette!”, much to my embarrassment. I boasted her’s in return, Sabrina revealed how far she’d come as a lawyer, Kagami swung her prized sword from side to side as she listened to us all catching up, laughing at the memories.

It really was a beautiful day.

[kurlyfrasier]

A Tramp for a Lady

Raph x Reader

Synopsis: You’re a sister to all but one. He’s done all he can to hide that fact from you, but you’ve decided that you’re done being his sister.

Warnings: Implied intercourse and mention of sexual assault, nothing explicit though. A tiny bit of cursing?  I’m just gonna go ahead and rate this PG-13. Usually I like to keep it family friendly, but this one is not quite so family friendly. There’s also a comment about how reader dresses like a lady; please don’t be offended by the old-school ‘lady’ comment, we can dress however we want and still be a lady.

Word Count: 4156 

Raph was greener than his own skin with envy. He had met you years ago. Before they saved the city. Before the city knew who saved them. Before the world knew mutants existed. Before mutants were accepted. 

It surprised him, honestly, how most of humanity accepted mutants, especially him and his brothers. Now they were the best personal security money could buy. Yeah, they still did patrol and kept the streets as clean as they could, but when the idea hit that him and his family could start making some good money and get a home topside- out of the smelly sewers and off the second-hand furniture- Raph’s mind went wild with ideas of how they could be more than shadows. Turtle Security was his best idea. He did research and got the okay from his father- even got permission to lead. It was his idea and his business, so Splinter said he would be in charge and held responsible for everything pertaining to Turtle Security. 

His first stop to start his business was Donnie. He needed his own computer. Something he could use for most of his interactions and something that would work for security cameras. It helped that Donnie said he would help with anything he needed and that it sounded like a good plan. His second stop was Mikey. His youngest brother needed something to do besides skating around the tunnels all day now that he was tired of all the topside attention everywhere he went. As expected, Mikey was up for keeping people safe and getting paid for it. Leo was his last stop. He needed a second in command, especially if he got double-booked. Raph figured most of the work he might end up with would only need himself and one other (if that), but thought if his business thrived more than he was thinking it would, then maybe the four of them could work together- depending on how much security a person deemed themselves worthy of.

It barely took a few months for his business to thrive. Word spread fast through New York City, especially when it was well known they saved the city. Raph had morals though, and would never accept business from anyone who deserved what was coming to them.

Tonight (a few years later and a spacious home topside), Turtle Security was in charge of keeping a drunk idiot from being harmed by his father’s enemies. The guy’s name was Roger Vance and he would not stop talking to you, flirting with you, and touching you. Nothing that would be cause to break his hand: an arm around your shoulders, a hand gently resting on your back, moving your hair out of your eyes- things like that. But Raph hated it. You deserved better than a trust fund kid.

To Leo, Donnie, and Mikey you were the little sister they adored, but to him you were so much more. You were his light in the darkness, his Northern Star, his- well, to put it frankly- you were his reason for living. Every day he looked forward to your smile. Every day he wanted to hear you laugh. A day without you was a day without the sun.

But he had never told you that and he never would. You were the perfect lady and he was a tramp. You had said so yourself. Yeah, you were probably joking about it and yeah, he was using other women to keep you off his mind- not that it worked. When he looked at them, he saw your face. When he slept with them, he thought of you. When the next morning arrived, the guilt ate up his soul- what little he had left of it anyway. 

He always played the gentlemen; hating the thought of any girl taking the “walk of shame” down his halls. He refused to allow anyone to call it that and therefore always bought them breakfast and a ride home. He wasn’t dumb. He knew he was just a notch on their bedpost more than anything. Sleeping with a mutant was something to brag about apparently, but he felt he needed to take advantage of that. Anything that could possibly get you off his mind, even if it was only a moment. Or maybe it was just to fulfill his sick fantasy of you and him together. Either way, it wasn’t working very well.

Why you had decided to go to the very bar he had to follow this numbskull to was beyond him. With a clenched jaw, he looked away from you and Roger, scanning his surroundings. He doubted anyone would try to make the jump on Roger at this place. It seemed...relaxed, for the most part. The place was fairly large, tables made from a rich mahogany to match the bar. The walls gave a warm, relaxed feel and tonight there was a jazz band playing on stage in front of the dance floor where people were dancing- really dancing. Not the fun hip-hop, dirty, or breakdancing kind. But the kind where the man twirled the girl and they face each other, stepping in time with the music. Your favorite kind. More than ballet, the dancing you got paid to do.

Raph had to stop himself from growling as he imagined dancing with you. He had taken lessons immediately after you had asked him to dance one night (on your twenty-first birthday, no less). He refused, not wanting to embarrass himself, so you danced with Mikey instead. Who made you laugh as he stepped on your toes. But you were a patient teacher and Mikey gobbled up the attention from his favorite sister. You had never asked him to dance again and he regretted ever refusing anything you asked of him.

Roger whispered something in your ear, forcing Raph to step in your direction in case the idiot took it a little too far. You noticed his movement and met his gaze determinedly, fire in your eyes. He stumbled. You had been doing that a lot lately; daring him to interrupt whatever you were doing. A second later your hardened gaze melted as you looked at Roger with a smile, nodding at whatever he had said.

Then you were both headed to the dance floor. Raph couldn’t help but follow your swaying hips underneath that red dress- his color red. Blood red. The top half fit like a second skin while the skirt fell loosely around your waist to halfway down your thighs. He didn’t even want to think about how low your V-neckline was- not that it was showing much, you dressed like a lady, after all. The straps tied around your neck, leaving your back bare. He knew your hair hid the cute bow he would find there if he were to untie-

“Ow! Sis is lookin’ good tonight,” Mikey voiced excitedly over the comm. 

“Should we be worried?” Donnie asked warily. He was scouting the block around the bar while Leo stayed up on the rooftops in case something happened.

“If that bastard touches her-”

“Relax, guys,” Raph cut Leo short in an attempt to calm himself just as much as his brother. “He hasn’t done anythin’ disrespectful.”

“Yet,” Leo growled the very same thought Raph was having.

“Dudes, let her have some fun, geez.” The brothers could hear Mikey’s eyeroll. Raph, on the other hand, witnessed his brother roll his eyes from across the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tonight was the night you were going to force Raph to see what he was missing out on. You had gone over to your brothers’ home that morning and easily got Donnie to spill the beans about who their client has been lately. It was perfect. Better than you thought was possible, really.

Roger Vance was about your age and was apparently a regular at Nightly Notes, a bar downtown just a couple of train stops down from your apartment. So, with a skip in your step and mischievous smirk on your lips, you said your goodbyes after breakfast- not wishing to stumble upon whoever was about to step out of Raph’s room- and found yourself wearing the new dress you got to pique Raph’s interest. There was no doubt in your mind that it would catch your favorite terrapin’s eye- the dress was in his favorite color, after all.

It was all too easy to catch Roger’s attention, especially after telling the bartender you wanted to buy the man a drink. You wanted to cringe. Roger had nothing on Raph. He was a complete moron, smelled like nasty old man cologne, and felt greasy every time he touched you. But you had to stay strong. You were on a mission. One you had been fighting for years.

When you were younger, around ten years ago, you fell into an open man-hole, twisting your ankle when you landed wrong. You had run away from the foster home in a panic. The man- if one could call him that- had touched you in places nobody should ever touch a girl. At least, that’s what your mom had told you before the accident when you were young. So you ran with nothing but the clothes on your back. You were still unsure of how you even dodged his slimy hands that day. All you knew was that you were never going back.

It wasn’t much longer when your brothers found you. They were shocked, to say the least, but welcomed you with open arms for the most part. Even Splinter, who you still called ‘dad’ to this day. Raph, on the other hand, was a different story. He wasn’t with the others when they found you. In fact, that’s why they were heading topside, because they meant to go looking for Raph. Apparently he had been gone for a couple of days and they had gotten worried.

They became the family you thought you were never going to have again. They made sure you got back into ballet. To this day, you still had no idea how they paid for those lessons, or if they even did. They made sure you got an education just like all the other kids- they followed you to and from school every day. They took care of you during your first period. They coddled you during your first break-up and all the others after- not that there were very many. They helped you get into a specialty arts school for ballet. They congratulated you for every little proud moment you had and always bought you flowers for every rehearsal. They were always at the first night’s rehearsal. Even Raph. He was the one that made sure you could defend yourself. He was the one that got you your apartment close to the studio you danced at, saying it was time you had your own space. Time you didn’t have four giant, over-protective brothers holding you back from having a real life. He wanted the best for you, they all did. So, you accepted the keys to your apartment with feigned excitement, not wanting to hurt his feelings. Especially since he made sure you were topside before they were. 

But he didn’t know you loved him. That you didn’t want to be anywhere else but with him- all day, everyday. You planned to change that tonight, though. Tonight you were going to push all of his buttons. Out of each of the boys, he was the most protective.

Your only worry was that this could give Turtle Security a bad rep if Raph lost his cool. Which didn’t happen as often as it used to, now that you had all grown. He owned his own company for goodness sakes! So he had learned to keep a level head. Had learned how not to let his emotions rule him. You were so proud of him for that. When you had first met him, his temper was what scared you the most, but you soon learned that underneath that rough exterior he felt he had to make sure his family was safe from all harm. That kind of pressure on a teenager was too much. It didn’t help that he felt he was never good enough. That he thought of himself as a failure. You hoped now that he didn’t still feel that way. He owned the most sought after personal security money could buy and still, he found time to patrol the streets- for free, without asking for anything in return. 

You idolized Raph for a couple of years once you figured out who he really was. Now, you hoped you didn’t disappoint him with what you had planned. Roger had finally asked you to dance, although you wondered if he would be able to without stumbling. You had let him touch your hands, tuck your hair behind your ear, rest his hand on your back. It was hard not to gag at his beer-tinged breath. You hated that smell. It reminded you of the foster home you ran away from. But you had to play your part and so far you felt you were playing it perfectly. 

When you glanced at Raph, his fists were clenched and his jaw ticked. His steps were heavy and purposeful. He wasn’t happy, but he didn’t seem like he was worried about security as his eyes flitted all over the place, barely looking in your direction. You had seen him on the job before. You knew he always had an eye on his client. Normally, he wouldn’t be more than one step away from his client when he played the part of bodyguard, but not tonight. He had stepped several feet away when he saw Roger sit next to you. You assumed it was to give you privacy. He never did like to be in the same room as you when you had a boy over- after the world found out they existed, anyway. Before that he would always leave the room when you spoke of the opposite sex. But when you came home crying he was the first one to grab the ice-cream and chick flicks. And he was always the one you wanted to snuggle up to during those times. During any time, really. He was warm, smelled like home, and made you feel safer than any of the others did. Logically, you knew they would all die for you and could protect you better than anyone else, but with Raph you knew that he would never let anyone touch a hair on your head without your say so and that made your insides all gooey.

It was time for step two as Roger danced with you. You were surprised he was a decent dancer. He spun you out and back into his arms, holding you close for a few beats as he breathed you in, causing an involuntary shiver. When you faced each other once again you slyly lowered his hand down to your bottom, making sure Raph and Mikey didn’t see. Thankfully, that very moment, Raph had his back to you as he spoke to his brother, but you knew it wouldn’t be more than another second before he turned around. Still, you breathed in a calming breath as Roger pulled you closer, squeezing your cheek. You told yourself you wouldn’t have to deal with him much longer as you led him in a position where you could see Raph out of the corner of your eye and he would see Roger’s hand on you. Your nerves buzzed in excitement. Lucky for him, worry for his life wasn’t a huge concern since he was the client. Which is why he was your target.

“Mr. Vance,” the gravelly Brooklyn accent was barely contained. “Ya need ta remove yer hand from the lady.”

“What?” Roger scrunched his face up at Raph. “Is she a threat?”

Raph towered over us and you felt Roger shake in fear. You would have smiled, feeling happy to have Raph so close, but you needed to keep a straight face.

“No,” he ground out.

“Then I’d like to keep dancing with this pretty lady, thanks,” Roger pretended bravado, attempting to sway as if he was still dancing with you, but Raph didn’t move an inch.

“Sorry,” Raph gently lifted you by the waist and set you down behind him, effectively situating himself between Roger and yourself. His hand print still felt hot on your skin. “But tha’s my sista’ yer touchin’.”

The word sister broke your heart and had your blood boiling all at the same time. You didn’t want to be his sister. You wanted a different kind of love from him. Tonight he was supposed to see how pretty you had become. How sexy you are. That you weren’t his sister, but someone he would feel compelled to kiss and touch and breathe in like you were currently doing. He smelled of leather and metal and spice.

“I-I see,” It was at that moment you knew Roger was a coward. Or maybe Raph was truly that scary, you weren’t sure which. Roger didn’t ask how it was possible that you were siblings. He didn’t protest when Raph pulled you away. He didn’t even try to hold on to you. He let go so fast you wondered if he was truly even interested. Granted, he had had a few beers by then and you had no way of knowing how well he held his alcohol.

“Michelangelo will escort ya home, sir. Ya seem tired,” Raph directed Roger toward a confused looking Mikey with an outstretched arm. You stayed silent as your eyes followed them out the door, giddy for what you hoped to happen next.

“Come on,” Raph growled out as he grabbed your wrist and tugged out to the back door that led to an alley. 

A small smile played at your lips that you struggled to hide once Raph rounded on you.

“What do ya think yer doin’?” He crossed his arms, staring you down, emerald eyes hard as stone.

“Dancing,” you shrugged and played with your nails, as if you went to bars every night to go dancing.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ya know I don’t like it when ya with us on a job, y/n,” Raph stated, waiting for an explanation from you. He hated having you near any possible danger. And that’s what his job was; dangerous. The whole point of it was to keep whoever was paying them safe from danger that might be after them. How would he be able to protect you and the client if something happened? He doubted he could do both and knew exactly who he would choose. Consequences be damned.

“How am I supposed to know where the job takes you?” Your e/c eyes dared to make contact with his own, nearly knocking him to his knees. He loved your eyes, they always had a spark to them, even when you were scared for your life. You thought he wasn’t there when you fell into the sewers that day, but he was the one that opened it for you. He was the one that followed you as you ran. He was the one that went back to beat the guy to a pulp once you were safe underground.

“I’m sure ya convinced one of yer brothas ta tell ya.”

“And if I did?” You sassed, a hand on your hip.

Raph visibly gulped, trying not to remember how good your hips felt in his hands. How his hands fit perfectly around your waist. How easily he could throw you over his shoulder and take you home. Home, where he could put something more appropriate on you- like one of his shirts.

He was going to lose it.

“Are ya tellin’ me ya put yerself in danger on purpose?”

“I wouldn’t be in danger, even if there was danger!” Your arms flailed at your sides, voice raised as you took a step closer. So close he could smell you. He tightened his hold on his biceps to keep from pulling you into his chest so he could breathe you in better.

“What makes ya think that, huh? Ya could get hurt if somethin’ were ta happen,” Raph tried to reason with you. You had to know that he would have to choose who to protect and you had to think he would choose the client.

“‘Cause you’re there, Raph. You wouldn’t ever let anything happen to me,” you said, voice steadier- and so very confident- than he expected after your outburst moments ago. Your words had Raph’s heart soaring to know you thought so highly of him, but he needed to quash that.

“I have ta protect the client, y/n. Ya know this,” Raph whispered the last bit, wishing he didn’t have to convince you that you should be second when he was on a job. You weren’t second. You would never be second. You were first, where you were meant to be. You would always be first.

“Pfft,” you scoffed before muttering that Mikey was there. That he could protect the client. And that caught Raph’s attention. 

“Ya don’t seem very concerned for someone ya were just flirtin’ up, Shorty.” His eyes squinted down at you in suspicion.

“Why would I be?” You shrugged, looking down at your nails again- a sign that you were hiding something. “Not like I liked him or anything,” you muttered.

“That’s not wha’ it looked like ta me,” Raph gently guided your chin up with his finger, forcing you to look him in the eye. 

“Good,” you huffed out, happy something was actually coming out of what you had planned.

“Good? Why were ya pretendin’ if ya don’t even like the guy? That’s not like ya, y/n.” Raph almost stumbled backwards at the glassy look in your eyes. Were you crying?

“To show you how pretty I am,” a tear ran down your face.

“I already know ya pretty-”

“To prove to you that I’m not that fourteen year old girl that ran from the foster home,” another tear rolled down your cheek, shattering his heart. He didn’t understand. He knows you’re beautiful. He knows you’re not fourteen anymore. He’s known that for a long time. Too long, really.

“I know ya not-”

“That I’m sexy, Raph!” You ripped your chin out of his gentle grip, turning away.

Now he understood. At least, he thinks he understood. And the thought shook him to his core. His heartbeat thundered in his chest and he worried that you would hear it. He didn’t dare breathe. This was the moment he never let himself think was possible. 

“I hate those women you take home,” your tiny voice reminded him to breathe. Reminded him that he wasn’t dreaming. That you were here, confessing something he didn’t think was possible. “I want to be in that bed- your bed. I want you to hold me. I-”

Raph couldn’t take it anymore- not another second. You didn’t know what you meant to him, but you were about to as he roughly pushed you against the brick of the building, making sure his hand was behind your head. He didn’t want it to bump against the brick. There was no way he was going to let anything bump that pretty little head of yours. Once he knew you wouldn’t be hurt by his rough-handling he leaned down to meet you at eye-level, forcing you to meet his gaze with his hands on either side of your head, blocking you against the wall. He wasn’t about to chance you walking away.

“Ya think I don’t find ya sexy?” He kissed the skin on your shoulder. 

“Ya think I like callin’ ya my sista’?” He gently brushed your hair away to trail kisses up your neck, making your breath hitch. 

“Ya think I enjoy those women I take home?” He kissed across your jaw from one ear to the other.

“Who do ya think I’m envisioning as they lay under me?” He whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver. 

Your knees buckled, but he caught you before you moved more than a couple of inches and held you steady. You were panting as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. You had to make sure this was real. So you held onto him as he rubbed little circles on your hips. You knew those strong hands could hold you forever and you wouldn’t ever want to move. You could barely believe what you were hearing. You tried wrapping your head around what he said. Was your dream finally coming true? Did Raph really see you that way? Your heart skipped a beat before you finally gained the courage to ask.

“Who?” You whispered, answering all of his questions with one of your own.

“You,” he nibbled your earlobe. “It’s always been you, Gorgeous.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: If you can think of something better than “Turtle Security” please let me know...or we can just pretend Raph has no creativity for naming things lol Up to you. But seriously, tell me if you think of something. Anything is better than what I came up with lol

[smallblip]

Deep sea baby

Levihan | Rated for mild swearing and mild deed-doing | This is a secret santa gift for @hanji-zoe103  💕

It’s on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429827

Hanji is born of white foam, where the heavens collide with the sea, and Levi loves her with a fierceness that would make the tides jealous. Levi knows little of poetics, but Hanji promises to find him in the next life and the ones after.

And sure as the waves crashing into shore, she does.

 Hanji is the sea. Uncompromising, untamable, painfully beautiful. Levi thinks she’s poetry in motion, the way she dances, barefoot across sandy beaches, the way she walks down towards the place where the sea meets land, unafraid amidst white waters. 

  He sits, like the shores, and watches her. Watches her bend towards the ground, hands dipping beneath foam, searching for shells. She holds them up against the sun to inspect them when she finds them. Treasure, she calls them. 

  When she’s waist deep in salt water she turns back to look at him. 

  “Come on Levi! The water is warm!” 

  ≋

  Hanji is born of white foam, where the heavens collide with the sea.

  And Levi is the most beautiful boy to have walked the earth, so beautiful he puts the gods to shame. And Hanji fears whatever love they have will be short-lived, because he loves her with a fierceness that would make the tides jealous. 

  It’s a long way from heaven, but Hanji comes to see him every day. She sits with him in a clearing in the forest while he works and he’s sceptical at first. Nothing good comes from associating with the old gods. But the hem of her dress is caked in mud, there’s earth under her nails, and she swears exactly like a sailor would. He teaches her to climb trees and she names all the sheep in his flock. 

  “Maybe it would be nice to stay here forever...” she says to him one day, and Levi understands the gravity of what she’s suggesting. The heavens would not allow for it. They would cut her up piece by piece and she would be returned to the sea. 

  But there’s a conviction in Hanji’s eyes, a severity that justifies the cult of mortals at her feet. The same determination that Hanji has when she’s pulling splinters from her fingers, when she picks wildflowers for Levi, when she holds him against her chest and challenges the gods. She balls her fists and curses the greys of the skies, yet she dances in the rain, giggling, pulling Levi to join her. He surprises himself when he relents.

  So Levi tells her she has his heart. 

  Each night he holds her close, and each night she falls into a deep slumber and she dreams of running barefoot through a field of white roses to reach him. She pierces her foot on a thorn and the field is stained red. A field of red roses. Each one blooming and dying at Levi’s feet. 

  ≋

  In a kinder life, they are childhood friends in a sleepy seaside town. Levi has a popsicle in his mouth, the last of it melting on his tongue. Hanji has long finished hers, and her fingers are sticky from the syrup. But it doesn’t matter because Levi is burying her in the sand so she can keep her filth to herself. He contemplates covering her mouth with sand too, but they’re going to turn thirteen soon and he’s tired of pretending that her talking annoys him. 

  “When I’m older I’m going to sail all over the world!” Hanji grins. Levi thinks it’s funny that now she’s just a talking head in the sand.

  But his heart sinks a little. He doesn’t know if his future is on a vessel bound to nowhere. But they’re still young and their plans have little structure and bearing, so for now Levi pretends he’s going to be there with her, sailing across the ocean.

  “Did you know it’s a myth that lobsters mate for life?” Hanji says, absentminded, part of her trying to distract from the heat, and another part of her already thinking about that ice cream they have waiting for them in her freezer. “Sad huh... Who knew you can’t trust everything on TV...” she laughs. 

  “Seahorses mate for life...” Levi says. He tries to stay nonchalant, but he’s a little embarrassed he spends his free time googling facts he thinks Hanji would enjoy.

  And Hanji knows. Of course she does. She has known him her whole life. In this life and the next he is her Levi. Her Levi with an endless capacity for kindness. She smiles. 

  “Seahorses huh...”

  ≋

  They meet on a ship sailing through uncharted waters. Levi joins the Royal Navy when it feels like he’s exhausted all other options. There's a hunger for power that guides their ship to foreign lands.

  It’s the middle of the night when hears shouting. He jolts awake and already the rest of the crew are reaching for their weapons. There’s no time to change out of their night clothes. The ship spirals into a frenzy. He spots the warning of black sails and white crossbones from afar. The ship is gaining on them. It’s clear they have to stand their ground and fight. 

  The pirates board their ship, and there’s a wild clash of knives and swords and the smell of blood in the air mixing with the metallic taste of gold and bronze and silvers. Levi lunges but his sword is halted midair by a cutlass. 

  “Not so fast Officer...” the pirate says. Past the eyepatch and greasy hair he sees her- he feels her. There’s a white rush by his ears calling for him to come home. 

  I found you, she whispers in his ear as she brings him aboard her ship. 

  The sea promises gold and riches beyond imagination, and Levi promises to follow her to the ends of the earth. 

  ≋

  Levi works in his uncle's bakery a small town in the middle of godforsaken nowhere. It's a family business, and they've been getting good reviews from travel blogs online looking for spots off the beaten path. 

  Levi is on a date to the aquarium and Kenny yells a “don't come back tonight if you know what's good for you!” after him. There are still customers in the bakery and everyone is staring at him. The teenagers in the corner snigger. 

  His date doesn't show, but he's not surprised really. The first date had gone by in a way that could be considered painless. But beyond nice pleasantries, there’s nothing much to look forward to. So Levi completely understands. Then again she could’ve at least had the courtesy to drop him a text. In any case, Kenny will be disappointed. He enters the aquarium anyway. Might as well. He had already purchased the tickets, and he hasn’t been since he was a child in elementary school. He watches the sharks swim laps behind the thick glass. He wonders if they feel unfulfilled, living in a tank, watching as people from all around take family trips to visit the aquarium. 

  “That one’s Bean!” Levi switches his attention from a particularly small shark to the person beside him. 

  “What?” He replies.

  “That one!” She points to the shark making its way past them, “she’s Bean. We rescued her from a fishing net.” 

  Levi watches her grin with suspicion. Maybe he should introduce himself. He's not usually one to introduce himself to strangers with wild hair and gleaming eyes behind thick glasses, but there's a first for everything, and before he knows it, he's telling her his name.

  "Date stood you up?" she says, and Levi glares at her. "Oh... Wait... That really happened?" she apologises, and the stranger with the wild hair and gleaming eyes becomes Hanji. There’s something about the lights in the aquarium, the blues and violets that reflect off the auburn in her eyes in a way that’s almost ethereal. 

  The things that conspire after are tricks of the light then, surely. Hanji invites him back to her apartment, and they talk and they polish off a six pack of beers and a few bottles of cheap wine between the two of them. "This is fun! I haven't gotten shipfaced in a while!" Hanji chuckles. 

  “No.” Levi says, he has little tolerance for bad nautical puns. But it only encourages Hanji to tell him more. There's a mix of "where ya fin all my life" and "you're whaley cute", and finally, when she's absolutely smashed, a "nice boat, wanna fuck?" 

  At that, the dams break and Levi laughs. 

  Hanji wakes up the next morning, killer headache, she shoots up and the headache splits her skull open. Too quick. 

  “Ouch...” she says, eyes blinking through sleep and haze. She grabs at the bottle of water by her bedside and shuffles through her drawer for ibuprofen. 

  “You idiot...” 

  Hanji snaps her head up, looking for the owner of the voice and there Levi is, leaning against her door, hands folded across his chest. Hanji’s jaw slackens. 

  “In case you were wondering, no, nothing happened...” 

  “But... but you’re here... in... in my room...” 

  “Tch...” Levi rolls his eyes, “you passed out and I stayed just in case you choked on your own vomit and died in the middle of the night...” 

  Oh...

  “Wait did I?” 

  Levi raises a brow, she’s still not all there. “Still alive aren’t you?” 

  Hanji shrugs. This could be hell for all she knows. “Fast acting pain relief” proving to be the biggest scam of the century. 

  "What a fucking shipwreck of a person..." Levi says and it takes Hanji a minute before she's doubled over in laughter, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. 

  Levi half expects to never see her ever again, but there she is the day after, as promised, finger pressed to the glass, ordering herself a Pain au Chocolat, an Americano, and his number on a piece of napkin. He sighs, but he's writing it down for her anyway.

  "You really followed me home that night huh... Didn't it cross your mind that I could be a serial killer?" She says, examining his handiwork. 

  Levi scoffs, "you invited a complete stranger you picked up at the aquarium into your house, and then proceeded to get very wasted... Didn't it cross your mind that I could have been the serial killer?"

  Hanji laughs, and it startles her when it echoes throughout the bakery, "touché..." she says, "guess I am a shipwreck of a person..." she winks.

  The corners of Levi's lips betray a smile as he watches her take a seat by the window to read. 

  "That's not Petra..." Kenny comments. 

  "Who said I went home with Petra?" Levi answers.

  Kenny's face pulls into a smirk and he lets loose a deep rumble of laughter, “Levi you absolute dog!”

  ≋

  The sea is a passage. To a new life that Hanji can only pray will be fulfilling. She is the princess of a port kingdom- a people favoured by the sun and raised by the sea. 

  Her ships carry her to a distant land of frigid waters and snowfall, where her betrothed is king. When she sets foot on land, she's greeted by faces paler than hers and a mannerism befitting the heartiness of Northern kingdoms. There are skins being made into pelt, fish hanging out to dry, wines made from preserved fruit. Already, Hanji misses the white sandy beaches and the heat of the midday sun, but she's to be queen now, and she remembers this when she walks past the heavy doors into the throne room. She comes bearing gifts of glass beads, fine porcelain, and dried fruit and nuts- a reminder of Summer. 

  She takes her place beside her husband, and she smiles at the people who have come to see her- the princess from the other side of the sea. They are her people now. 

  And that's when she sees him.

  His expression doesn't change even when he kneels in front of her and kisses the back of her hand. He vows to protect her. 

  She calls for him later, and he tells her to call him Levi- he has never been too keen on formalities. Besides, Sir Levi doesn’t suit him quite as much. And she's Hanji, just Hanji. 

  It's Winter when they take a ride through the forest. She's not used to the heavy furs and wools and Levi has to remind her that the sun doesn't shine the same here. But Hanji knows. Her golden skin now mellowing. She hikes her dress above her knees and toes through the snow. The ground caves beneath her feet like powdered sugar, and Hanji thinks maybe there's beauty in her new home. She thinks maybe there's warmth to be found, as Levi catches her before she slips. 

  He shows her the lake, now frozen over, and they slide over thick ice like children. She pulls him down with her when she falls and they laugh. There's something in his eyes that Hanji recognises as fear. She feels it in the beat of her own heart, warning her against falling. But they’ve been treading on thin ice around one another, and falling seems inevitable.

  So Levi presses back against her and kisses her. Hanji feels a warmth coursing through her- the same fire she's promised in the lullabies her mother used to sing her. 

  "We should come in Spring. The lake is beautiful then..." Levi says as they make their way back to the castle. And Hanji promises to show him her home. The crystal waters; gentle waters. She knows it's a promise that may never be fulfilled, but nevertheless, this is a moment in time, and promises offer a glimpse into possibility. 

  Come Spring, they make love by the lake, under the cover of the sea of trees. Everything is beautiful in the Spring. 

  ≋

  In another life, the sea promises protection. 

  There’s only one rule out at sea near the white rocks-

  Beware the Siren’s song.

  Levi lives in a little house by the sea. Everyday he sails out near the white rocks to catch fish. 

  Hanji circles his boat. Her iridescent tail catching the light and reflecting deep purples and green. She sings her best song for him- the beautiful fisherman with the grey eyes. 

  "Don’t swim into the nets," he scolds and Hanji is taken aback. She thinks about her beautiful fisherman when he sails for home. And there's a familiar tugging that she feels in her gut. But the weather has taken a turn for the worse and she doesn’t see him near the white rocks. Not the next day nor the days after. She seeks the council of the waters and the waves carry her to shore. 

  There’s a storm raging. The windows are rattling against their frames. Lightning illuminates the skeletons of his house and there’s a persistent knocking that weaves in and out of the thunder. Levi takes the screaming kettle off the hobs. 

  He opens the door to her. She’s standing in the rain, hands wrapping around herself to shield from the cold. Levi’s gaze skims from the tip of her nose down to her bare chest, down to her long legs. He swallows thickly. She’s leaning against the frame of the door, shifting her weight from one unstable leg to another. Like a fawn learning to walk. He frowns but nevertheless, he leaves the door ajar for her to enter.

  “You’re gonna get the floors all wet...” he mutters. Rainwater he can manage. But seawater makes the floorboards a little sticky, and that annoys him deeply.

  “I told you I’ll come for you.” She says. 

  Levi shoves a towel in her face, “Dry yourself.” He pauses for a moment, taking in the shock on her face. “Please.” 

  Surprisingly, she does as she’s told, and when she’s done, she hands the towel back to him. 

  Levi finds her dry clothes, and she pinches and pulls at them, inspecting after she puts them on. 

  “I’m here to eat your heart lover boy.” 

  He considers her. It’s colder this time of year and the sea is relentless. But her skin is gold like honey, sun-kissed in a way that reminds Levi of summers and homemade jam and the grass beneath his feet. 

  “Levi.” He replies.

  Levi. she says, smile spreading across her face like butter on warm toast. 

  He shares his stew with her and she tells him her name is Hanji when her hands are warming by the fire. She looks at Levi, gaze washing over him like a wave. And there’s familiarity in the way his eyes soften when he looks at her. He looks at her like he's trying to call forth a string of memories tying her to him; him to her. But all he has is an affection for her that ripples through his consciousness. It's accompanied by the sounds of laughter- her laughter- and the pale shimmer of moonlight.  

  So she returns to him the next day, and the day after, and the days after that. 

  Hanji brings him little pieces of treasure. A conch shell, a dead sand dollar, bits of sea glass. Her legs grow stronger each time. She dances around his house. She pulls him flush against her chest and rests her chin atop his head and sways to a tune she’s humming. 

  Beware the Siren’s song, they say. 

  But they’re far from the white rocks and she’s laughing exactly like a lover would. The floorboards are creaking under their toes.

  He looks for her when he’s out at sea, and listens as she tells him stories of the depths, about the men who hurt her, about dying at sea, and about the promise of protection and rebirth.  

  When she wakes again, there's water in her lungs and she learns to breathe. To call the sea her home. 

  But maybe it's not by accident that she falls asleep in his arms one night, cocooned in white sheets that remind her of sea foam. 

  She kisses his nose in the morning and he blinks an eye open to look at her. “I’m gonna eat your heart lover boy...” Hanji teases, hair tickling his skin, the sight of him crossing the boundary between sleep and daybreak takes her breath away. 

  Levi smiles, pulling her closer, "stop moving so much..." he groans. It’s still early, they can still afford a little shut eye. He cradles her in his arms- a promise of protection. “You already have my heart,” comes his reply, in a moment of tenderness, and Hanji doesn't return to the waters. 

  ≋

  In others, the sea forces distance between them. 

  They don't meet in this life.

  But sure as waves reaching towards the shore, they meet in the one after.

  ≋

  They're in their second year of college but nothing really changes. 

  Except when it does, it happens so fast that Levi doesn't have time to breathe. The next time he takes a breath he's lying beside Hanji. They’re both sated and sleepy and Levi stills his breathing, coming down from his high. And Hanji thinks this life is nice. It's effortless in a way that reminds her that they are meant to be.

  The Marine Biologists have gathered for a nights out- a pub crawl to be specific. The entire course is decked in ridiculous outfits. There’s a merman somewhere, and a manatee, there’s even a sea snake (moray eel, Hanji clarifies). And Hanji is dressed as a shark. 

  Levi is there because he gets dragged along to everything that Hanji is a part of and he gets asked one too many times what his outfit is supposed to be. Because he’s in his jeans and a black top and he just looks- normal? 

  “He’s my next meal!” Hanji says and Levi pulls a face, he chokes out a, “shitty four eyes...” and he’s blushing a little more than he should because does she even hear herself?

  Halfway through the night Levi wonders why he’s so tipsy. This is really unlike him. He remembers meeting Hanji’s friend Moblit, whose Aquaman sends Hanji over the edge with laughter. He remembers hearing a round of “oh hey Levi!” (They all know who he is, after all, he’s often hanging around Hanji). Then the beer bong challenge. Oh right. The beer bong challenge... that’s why. Hanji won, at least he remembers that. 

  And he also remembers dancing with Hanji at the back of one of the pubs. “This is a good song...” he murmurs in her ear and she visibly shivers. But everything is spinning and the music is delicious, touching is also delicious, and they do just that. And at some point Levi must have just gone for it, because Hanji’s mouth is hot and inviting and Levi thinks he’s delirious so he surrenders to the feeling. 

  They’re back in Hanji’s room, only because it’s only a flight of stairs up and Levi is unzipping her ridiculous costume that surprising does little to ease his raging hard on. And Hanji, god forbid, isn’t wearing anything underneath. 

  His top comes off once they make it past the main door to her flat. Levi doesn’t even notice the mess in Hanji’s room as they navigate the narrow space and soon they're on the bed, hands moving in what is best described as a frenzy. 

  It feels so good and Levi finally admits to himself that he has been thinking about this for a while. And he’s almost relieved when Hanji kisses him and lets her want slide down his throat. 

  Levi wonders if they can still be considered friends. Last he’s checked friends don’t scream each other’s names the way Hanji is saying his name right now as she bites down on his shoulder. Plus, the whole best friends to lovers trope is just one big cliché. And yet, Levi doesn’t hate it. He has to admit it’s actually really nice. 

  The next morning Hanji finds Levi rummaging through her sink cupboard. 

  “My extra toothbrushes are the drawer.” She gestures towards the bottom drawer with her toe. They brush their teeth and they're sitting on the bed again, it's the only place for two to sit, really. 

  “So... Was it good for you?” Hanji says, a little amused with how the entire situation unfolded.  

 Levi clears his throat, face going red. “Would’ve been better if you weren’t wearing that stupid outfit...” He wants to say he's never felt this way with anyone before, but he doesn't. 

  “But hammerheads are cool!” Hanji protests and she’s pouting. Levi wonders if now’s a good time to kiss that stupid look off her face or if that’s too much.

  “Fucking one isn’t...” Levi mutters. Hanji throws her head back and laughs. 

  “So... What do we do now?” Levi asks. And Hanji shrugs saying a "admit we love each other and carry on with our lives?" like it had been obvious. 

  "Sounds good..." he says, smiling, and he thinks they deserve this effortlessness. 

 ≋

  Hanji comes back to him like ship returning to port. She thinks about meeting him when he's six and building sandcastles on the beach. He had ignored her attempt at conversation and Hanji had been a little annoyed.

  "You don't remember me do you?" She huffed, pout on her face, arms crossed. 

  Levi was confused, that definitely caught his attention, "do we know each other?" he asked. 

  "No," Hanji confessed, "no but... I know I'm supposed to meet you." She said with all the confidence a five year old can muster. Levi bickered with her. How can a five year old be so smug? He was a whole year older and he was by no means as confident. He didn't even know whether to pick sushi or pizza for lunch. 

  And she thinks about the night before she left. 

  "I like you Levi..." she had said. She willed herself not to cry, so there's a moment in which she's just chuckling humourlessly to herself. And Levi's scowls at her. "Inconvenient huh..." she added. She had to cross the ocean the next day on a voyage bound somewhere far away and this makes it that much harder.  

  Fucking inconvenient indeed...

  They don't make promises, but Hanji wishes they had. She wishes they would have at least addressed her little confession, because it's been eight years. Eight years of it gnawing at her brain and now it's just a little awkward. 

  Hanji takes a deep breath as she disembarks at port, her feet a little unsteady on dry land- like a fawn learning to walk again. But she sees him. And the knot in her chest unravels. Eight years. It's been too long. She takes tentative steps towards him, but soon she's running and enveloping him in a sweaty embrace. 

  He's whispering something, muffled because he's pressed into Hanji's clavicle-

  “Did you know seahorses mate for life?” 

  She smiles. Sure as the sun, he’s in her arms again. 

  Seahorses huh...

  ≋

  Hanji knows whatever life they've led, this is her favourite. 

  The one in which her and Levi see the sea for the first time together. 

  The one in which she’s the Commander, and him, her Captain. And between them, a river of words left unsaid threatening to break the banks. 

  One day they must cross the ocean, but today they visit the shores again, without the kids this time. And Levi learns why when he watches her peel at her clothes. Her harness comes off first, then her blouse, then everything else, like a little dance for an audience of one. Levi tries not to stare, but he’s already seen her by candlelight in the dead of the night. And yet she never fails to take his breath away. 

  She makes her way to where the white foams dredge the past up the shores of the present. 

  "Come on Levi! The water is warm!" she says, and he hears it like a call to come home- where the heavens collide with the sea. 

  He takes off his clothes and folds them in a neat pile beside Hanji's mess. He swims out to join her.

  The moonlight caresses her skin and this scene- this moment- is opulent. Levi unties the patch over her eye and lets the waters carry it away. She chuckles. "I'm never going to get that back am I?" she says, holding his hand and guiding him to shallower waters. 

  And Levi knows there's some poetry to the way she's kissing him. She tastes like saltwater and Summer all at once, and Levi thinks that he has never felt this way with anyone else. Will never feel this way about anyone else. Instead he glowers at her-

  “Hanji don’t you dare fucking die... I’ll never forgive you if you do... I swear I’ll-“ 

  Before Levi can continue, Hanji is laughing, sputtering as her head bobs below the surface of the water. 

  “Even if I do, you don’t have to say goodbye. I promise I’ll look for you in the next life... And the ones after...” She says, brushing the pad of her finger against his nose. The heavens and the sea bear witness. And Levi promises to follow her to the ends of the earth. 

  Treasure, he calls her, when the sound of white water crashing provide refuge for words that have little place in this life. Levi knows little of the words lovers say to each other, and even less of poetics, yet here he is with Hanji, sitting on the shores now, and watching salt crystal in her hair. He falls asleep that night to the sound of her breathing. And amidst dreams of roses and white foam,

  Levi is home. 

[aestheticaxolotl]

Let’s Talk About Neal The Eel

Lets talk about Rat-Daddy, I mean Neal the Eel

Let me start with Neal, using the Carmen Sandiego Wiki to break him down as a whole, starting with appearance and personality (Excluding the comments around his action in the show). I am biased here, Neal is my favorite character in the god damned show. I will stand by this rat till I die.

I may or may not go into ship fodder but that may just have to be a thing for another day.

Neal is a tall man with a thin lanky frame and greasy black hair. He has buck teeth with a slight gap between, usually resting over his bottom lip. His skin is very pale, almost grey, and he has purple bags under his eyes.

All I have to say is this boy is tired, probably anemic, I have reason to believe that Neal the Eel is both anemic and hypermobile ( a heritable connective tissue disorder that affects the joints and ligaments in a person's body. It comes in different degrees of severity, the least being similar to double-jointedness). There is no age stated but I am willing to bet he’s around 30-35, due to his aged face lines and his Faculty audition (NGL I would have loved to see him as Faculty). Not gonna lie, the buck teeth is why I’ve been lovingly calling him a rat. I’ve seen many buck teeth in my day but this is the first time I ever really loved it. I think the greasy detail is just due to the slippery aesthetic. But I can appreciate that.

For personality we do not have a lot to go on, but what we do have is VERY revealing about the depths and flaws of his character.

Neal is described as "conniving and loyal to a fault" by Doctor Bellum. During fights, he has an affinity for making puns and teasing his opponent. Despite his goofy nature, he is a competent operative, having been able to outplay both Shadowsan and Carmen in combat— additionally having been considered a potential faculty member by Bellum. He is later revealed in the fourth season to be extremely laidback and easygoing, since he did not care about getting his mind wiped, getting fish dumped on him, or defecting from V.I.L.E.

As you all know by now, (Unless you are new), I marked the most important details in the bold font. As we do not have much to work with, a lot of details are bolded, I really hope what I put out is up to standard!

Neal is described as "conniving and loyal to a fault”

Now, I’m taking into account that he has a reason to be ‘loyal to a fault’. If you have read my headcanon you will know that I strongly think Neal came from a circus or some form of freak show, we know how flexible this man is and there is no way that it just happened. I imagine that the loyal to a fault is to Dr. Bellum, who wanted him on faculty. But WHY? I’ll touch on that soon. We do see that the man is loyal and is very clever during points in the show. So perhaps there is some connection to Bellum that we as an audience have not yet seen, through technology or something. He seems to enjoy technology, but not on the same level that Bellum does, this really stumps me and I would LOVE to hear what y’all have to say about it!

He has an affinity for making puns and teasing his opponent

Need I remind you all that Neal the eel is a HUG GOOF BALL?!? *Goes to laugh in the corner for a second* Okay, now, he makes a lot of jokes and has fun with his job and I can really respect that. I have not seen a character that has as much FUN at work as Neal does. That’s why he is so fun to watch on the screen, he’s having fun the way that our others are not. He’s poking fun at Carmen and Shadowsan, HE ASKS IF SHADOWSAN JOINS THE SOVIOT UNION. I Mean that was amazing. All his puns are centered around him being slick, and there is a LOT that one can do with that. I also noticed that Neal nicknames the people he is working with, I can only really see him calling Lady Dokuso “Slippy Micky”  as being playful banter, that she seems to ENJOY by calling him “ unagi”, which translates to eel. And I love that a character like Neal comes across as enjoyable and annoying at the same time, do I even need to mention that Mimebomb seems to absolutely HATE Neal? He’s slimy and annoying and tells bad puns. It’s amazing that dynamics that one character can have that spices up other characters too!

He is a competent operative, having been able to outplay both Shadowsan and Carmen in combat

Now. This detail does go back to the teasing of the opponent area of this character essay. Neal is able to outplay Carmen and Shadowsan in combat, that shows some major skill, seeing as Shadowsan is older and more experienced while Carmen might be both faster and dare I say stronger. I feel that the level of skill between Shadowsan and Carmen should have made him easy to take down, where as I state, people underestimate Neal and that is why he gets the best of them. If you have seen my previous two posts, you will notice I do not use the intro cards for the character, I look for images that really give a sence to the character. Take a look at the image used for Neal. This mother trucker had a BMI of 2- MAYBE. It would be easy to underestimate him in real life or in show. This allows him to be the competent operative he is, he KNOWS he is underestimated and uses that as a tactical advantage. 

Additionally having been considered a potential faculty member by Bellum.

I mentioned that I have no idea why Bellum would want Neal on the Faculty, and even here when I had time to think about it, I still do not! the only think I can think of is that Bellum must OWE him for something. Not he owes her, but SHE owe HIM something. Perhaps Neal stole something for Bellum that put him in great danger, like a computer system or something of great technological advance that put V.I.L.E So far forward in the technology stance that Bellum could not forget and had to repay. But then I look at the whole Brainwipe thing and wonder why she couldn’t repay him by letting him live free?  And that’s why Neal’s loyalty is such a hard thing to pin point.  SO I put forth that Neal is just skilled That’s it. It’s a little lame, but then I look that I say he is underestimated and think... That’s why they want him. His underestimation is the thing that got him on. They think that they can control him, and he would have shown them, No, they couldn’t.

Extremely laidback and easygoing

Come on, just when I think he can’t get any better. (Insert oh no he’s hot meme) or (Insert hes meeting all of my standards meme). Neal is laid back, relaxed, easy going, and all those other words for chill. I noticed that when he loses he’s not like “AUGGH NOO MY FUTURE IS RUINED” he’s more like “Damn that was a good game, I’ll get you next time.” He’s got good sportsmen ship and I love that. I’ll touch more in the next section too about how being too chill can be a problem. Neal being easygoing also make sense seeing how well he can work with other, I’ll gesture to the partnership with Lady Dokuso where he worked VERY well with her and then the teaming up with Mimebomb who absolutely hated every second of it. 

He did not care about getting his mind wiped

Not going to lie, but I screamed when I saw that Bellum was going to wipe Neal’s brain. First thought was ‘OH NO’. Second was “WAit I thought she liked him’, and third was... “Wait... He’s just... Fine with this?’. Neal is TOO chill. I feel like a person should care that their brain is getting wiped, maybe just a little bit? And then I stopped, thought about what I knee of him, and laughed. Like, if he was really worried about getting he mind wiped he would have yeeted out of there a long time ago. He know that Bellum and the Faculty will show mercy to him, give him a second chance. And when that second chance was given to him? He tried and then escaped. Never to be seen again, never heard from again, never even thought of again. I imagine he did care and placed a lot of faith into what he knew of the faculty. And yes, Imagination is the basis of this here, because as previously stated, he is a competent operative and knows what he is doing, he didn’t just allow himself to be walked all over.

Neal is a master of infiltration and specializes in slipping into small spaces. His slick body suit, lanky frame, and skills as an acrobatic-contortionist make him a difficult man to capture and hold.

This is all that is given for the abilities of Neal, its not a lot to work with but I manages to strangle some thing out of it. Neal being a master of infiltration strikes me as very direct, along with the added specialty of slipping into small spaces. I figure the directness is so that the show and tell aspect of the show is less surprising. Along with the slick suit, lengthy frame and obvious gesture to  acrobatic-contortionist skills gives me the impression of an escape artist. I figure from this that Neal was often used for the stealth and fast missions. 

While Neal the Eel doesn’t have as much to offer Wiki wise, I am so happy with what I was able to offer up to you. Neal is an amazing character, even if I set aside my bias towards him, and an even better study. 

Not just as a funny, skinny guy who looks like a rat, but as a deeper character with masks and guards that not even his closest allies could even guess at. A usual, I hope you enjoyed and I will have another one of these out fairly soon. Still doing requests!

Thanks for Reading!

[enkelimagnus]

A Castle in the Forest

Percy x Vex’ahlia, Chapter 6, 3943 words,

A Modern AU, in which Vex is a park ranger taking over the Alabaster Sierras post, and finds much more than she bargained for

Read on AO3

Back to Vex, on her path to hunt a fiend...

----------------

“It’s fine, thank you anyway.”

Vex slams the red button on her phone, as if clicking on it harder will make her frustration known to the world. She wishes she had an older phone so she could slam down the handset onto the base. It would be like slamming a door at the end of an argument; a physical show of her feelings.

She’s been on the phone all morning, trying desperately to get some answers on what she’s supposed to do with the fiend now that it has killed at least one person. Not anyone, at that, someone trained to take things down and keep parks protected. If Regae was anything like her, he had put up a fight before dying. But the creature had prevailed.

The one thing she was told about was the Grey Hunt. Not only did the Pale Guard officer tell her about it on the crime scene, but pretty much everyone she’s tried calling told her to ask them. Except they don’t exist anymore. They haven’t in years.

There are no records of previous members either. Vex wants to scream in frustration. For the first time since she’s arrived, she realizes how alone she is. She wasn’t so alone before. In Shademurk, she could ask Saundor and if he was in a good mood and if she played her cards right, he would use his amazing influence to help her. Here she has no one. She almost misses him.

What? No. She doesn’t miss him. She can’t miss him, she won’t. The fact that he was supposed to love her and that she had to bargain with him, the very sovereign of Shademurk Bog, to get him to do anything for her, from dishes to actually working with her to make Shademurk better.

She doesn’t miss him. At all. Her new home is completely clear of him, empty of memories of him. She’s not going to choke on his presence every time she looks somewhere. It’s better here. She’s better now than she ever was before.

If Saundor was here, he would take credit for her strength, for her work. He would say he made her, shaped her into the ranger he is today. He always used to say that. She used to believe him.

Vex stands from her chair and paces a little into the cabin. No Grey Hunt. No Pale Guard. As far as she knows, Pike Trickfoot and Grog Strongjaw are still willing to go hunt a fiend with her. That’s all she has. Her own limited abilities, a cleric and a goliath. And no Vax.

She told him to stay in Westrunn a little. She was hoping to have the fiend problem sorted before he arrived, to be honest, so she wouldn’t have to ask for his help. He’s helped her way too much already.

Besides, she’d rather know he’s with Gilmore, enjoying himself and his boyfriend. They don’t see each other enough. She can manage without him. She should be able to. She’s a strong, capable person.

In the bathroom, she splashes cold water onto her face, forcefully clearing her thoughts. When she looks up from the sink to look into the mirror, she swallows, hard. She looks tired. There are dark circles in the brown skin below her eyes. Her lips are cracked, from the cold. She’s forgotten to put on lip balm. Her hair is dirty, greasy.

It’s been three days. Three days since she’s received that call on the forgotten radio. Three days and she’s already forgotten to take care of herself. She’s really holding on by a thread, isn’t she?

Her nails dig painfully into her palm and only then does she stop staring at her own tired face.

She walks away and slams the door behind herself. The force makes the wall shudder and it feels right. Vex smiles a little. That was the first hint of satisfaction she’s felt since her arrow shot through Donovan Clarence’s hand.

The cub at her feet whines a little, turning over from where he’d been napping.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly and crouches to pet the dark brown fur. “Slamming the door woke you up, huh?” She asks softly.

The cub leans into her hand like he’s starving for touch. He’s always going to forgive her for these things, isn’t he? Her smile widens slightly, growing more relaxed and genuine.

Her phone buzzes and she reaches for it, before sitting on the floor next to the cub. It’s a text from Vax, with an image attached. She opens the image first.

It’s a photo of the inside of a shop, large and filled with glass-covered shelves. She can see the shine of gold and silver and precious gems behind the glass. Her eyebrow raises. The fact they’re still behind glass and not in Vax’s sneaky hand is surprising. She looks over at the caption of the image.

Exercise in restraint: Gilmore’s shop. Many trinkets, none for me.

About five different dirty remarks come to Vex’s mind but she pushes them back. Vax is a bit uncomfortable with discussions of his sex life, joking unfactual remarks or not. She’s not going to make him uncomfortable now.

She takes a picture of the cub snuggled in the space between her crossed legs.

I saw this one and couldn’t help myself… Trinket addiction running in the family?

She sends the picture but looks down at the cub with a thought. Trinket is a good name. She likes it. Loves it, actually.

“May I call you Trinket, darling?” She asks. Giving him a name means keeping him, but she’s far past that point now. She’s known it, deep down for a while.

The cub doesn’t seem to mind it. Vex presses a kiss to the furry head with a smile, the biggest in a long time.

They say rangers often find companions. Vex has just found hers.

-------------

They meet at the mouth of the trail, the way they’d originally planned. It’s a few days later than expected, yes, but Vex has been busy desperately trying to get some sort of official help. She was hoping not to have to ask Pike and Grog.

She sees the goliath before the gnome, the giant axe hanging heavy over the man’s shoulder. By his side, the cleric looks way less aggressive. Vex doesn’t know which one will be more useful. Divine healing or brute force. Either way, she’s incredibly glad to have someone by her side right now.

“So,” she smiles nervously. “Thank you for coming. I apologize for pushing back the date of meeting. I was hoping to get some sort of professional help, but it seems like Whitestone doesn’t have the infrastructure.”

The cleric, Pike, nods. “The city has seen a lot of things.”

Vex doesn’t know what that means, really. She doesn’t ask. Not right now. She’ll ask later, once they have a dead fiend and a victory under their belt. People were much more likely to spill secrets if adrenaline and serotonin were flowing through their veins.

Sometimes, she’s almost ashamed of the many tricks she’s learned throughout the years. And then she remembers it was people like the Syngornian Elves and Saundor who made her learn these things,and she stops feeling like she should have somehow stayed innocent through all the shit they put her through.

They start on their way, not to where she initially sensed the fiend, but to where the body was found. It’s more likely that they’ll find usable traces there.

The winter cold bites at her cheeks, but the goliath is shirtless. She raises an eyebrow, both respectful and thinking him mad to be out there like this. They start climbing up the trail in relative silence, with the crunching of their boots and the jingling of the cleric’s chainmail.

Vex doesn’t know what kind of small talk to do now. This is not a light-hearted situation, and she just wants the creature out of her woods.

“Have you killed fiends before?” The goliath asks after a moment.

Vex looks over at him over her shoulder. “Not a fiend, no. I’ve killed other things. Fey, mostly.”

Pike raises an eyebrow. “Fey? Were you around the doors to the Feywild before you came to the Alabaster Sierras?”

Vex hesitates for a moment. It’s a lot of information to give to complete strangers. She shrugged the paranoia off however. “I was. I was tasked with keeping an eye on a part of the Verdant Expanse, that, just like Syngorn, can switch between the Feywild and our plane. I lived in the Feywild for a part of my time there.”

“That’s so cool!” Pike grins and Vex can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of her lips.

It is pretty cool.

The Feywild is somewhere most people have barely heard of, let alone visited. And Vex, though in pretty horrible circumstances, has been able to call it home for a moment of her life. On the way up the trail, her two companions manage to coax her into recounting the Feywild.

She tells them of the permanent dusk, of the sun that’s always at its most beautiful, its most reddening and purpling state duskward of Shademurk. She tells them of the dark of the night on the other side, of looking at the sky and never knowing exactly the time. She tells them of age-old trees that hold secrets they only tell the worthy.

She tells them of dryads and naiads and the howling of lycans. She doesn’t tell them of Saundor but she tells them of Fenthras.

One day, she’ll reach under her bed, take it out and shoot. It’s still the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, the wood alive and the power tangible. She still dreams of wielding it, as she runs free through ever shifting woods, laughter on her lips.

When they make it to the campsite where the body was found, she feels lighter than she has in a long time. Both the cleric and the goliath are smiling lightly. They exchange a look, and then get to work.

Vex sits on a stone and starts expanding her consciousness as Pike runs identifying and tracking spells on whatever magic trace they can find. It’s hard to tune out her kind babbling or Grog’s regular deep-toned comments, but Vex finally manages and exhales.

With her breath goes her mind and soon she finds herself floating, drifting, one with the wind and with nature. She barely has to wait to find the fiendish presence. It pings on her mental radar loud and clear and close.

Way too close. They’re close to its lair.

Vex’s eyes open wide and she comes back crashing into herself. She barely gives herself time to come back into her body before she shoots to her feet and shares her findings. Grog takes his giant axe out. Pike unclasps a mace the size of her body from Grog’s back.

Vex takes her bow in hand and notches an arrow, ready to draw and shoot. They start walking in the direction where she can still feel the echoing presence of the creature. It rests heavy on her back of her neck, a pressure she can’t shake.

They walk into higher grass off of beaten paths. Vex slips into the underbrush with ease, but it’s far from the case for the two accompanying her. Pike in particular makes great noise and gets caught in almost every weed she can possibly get caught on. Vex huffs. Here goes the effect of surprise.

They find the lair empty, and her heart tightens in her chest. Fuck. It knows they are there.

A shape moves from the shadows overhead and Vex immediately reacts. Her body moves without her thinking anything through. Her arrow shoots through the air and hits right in the middle of the creature’s chest. It screams in pain. Vex smirks. She’s good at this.

The creature has stopped long enough for all of them to see what it is. It’s tall, Vex’s size. Its skin is spiky, barbed, horns sprouting from its skull. Its scream makes the air around it shiver with heat.

The scream is immediately answered by one from Grog. The goliath steps forward with bloodshot eyes and angry determination. He swings his axe forward and pounces on the creature. Maybe his rage has distracted him, because his axe swings wide, the creature too fast to be hit by the massive weapon.

The cleric immediately jumps into action, hands shining with divine light as she reaches up with her holy symbol. Vex can see the wings of Sarenrae carved onto the metal before they disappear behind the burning white light. It shoots out of the symbol and hits the creature.

It screams again as the radiant light engulfs it, lighting it up and burning it with divine power. If they were in darkness, it would be obvious to all of them now. There’s no way any of them are going to miss their next hit against it.

Grog has gotten too close to the creature however, and though it’s still burning with light, it takes no time to attack the giant target the goliath makes. It swipes at the grey-skinned man, one hand missing before the second catches the goliath in the chest, dragging into the skin. Vex winces, but the goliath seems more okay than expected.

The creature tries to hit him with his tail but Grog dodges it with a shiver-inducing grin. “Come on, devil devil!” He taunts. “Is that all you can do?”

Vex’s eyes cross with the creature’s and she takes the opportunity to Hunter’s Mark it. She reaches for another arrow, but her fingers rip against her quiver, shaking lightly now that she’s realized what they were facing. She curses. Pike sends her a slightly worried look.

Grog retaliates against the clawing he’s just received. The axe cleaves a giant gash into the shoulder of the fiend. The goliath immediately reiterates, hacking at the shoulder. The arm of the fiend is now hanging by tendons. It seems to be in incredible pain.

Reaching up with its good arm, the creature screams, warmth radiating from it. Flames erupt from the hand of the creature. Both tries miss the massive target of Grog. The creature seems confused. That’s what pain like the one being inflicted to it does.

Vex notches in another arrow. It grazes the creature but is deflected by its spikes. She groans in annoyance. None of this is working. Why is she so useless right now?

Grog’s axe finally cuts off the creature’s arm, but it doesn’t seem to slow it down that much. Another ray of blinding light hits the devil, however. Pike is breathing hard, but her spells are finding purchase and Vex is incredibly thankful for that, even if they do not do a lot of damage.

The goliath keeps taking a great amount of injury from the furious and in pain devil. Fire burns onto the grey skin, scorching it and a sickening smell permeates the air around them. Vex wants this to end, but she knows it won’t be that easy.

Vex’s next arrow finds purchase right as the great axe slashes through the devil’s chest. A handaxe flies by Vex and hits it square in the thigh. The wounded creature turns around, tail whipping at Grog, before pouncing in with one undamaged arm, missing the goliath entirely with the last two.

They keep hammering at the creature, arrows and great axe wounds and additional mace wounds from a determined Pike hacking at its defenses and crushing its bones. Vex is sweating, she’s a little unfocused, and the screams of the goliath’s rage resounds in her head.

When it finally falls down, it’s one of Vex’s arrows that lodges itself in its eyeball, deeply. It gurgles as it falls, twitching for a few seconds until it stops moving entirely. Vex exhales. She feels like the combat has lasted hours when it’s probably only been minutes.

Pike rushes to her friend and heals him immediately, the burn and other wounds healing and disappearing from the grey flesh as Vex watches. A little unsteady, she finds somewhere to sit and to search.

She waits for a while, searches for something she could have missed, but all fiendish presence is gone from the perimeter of her searching abilities. Relief floods through her system and she finally smiles. It was hard, but they did it. They killed the fiend. The Alabaster Sierras are safer now than they were before.

Vex’s entire body unravels suddenly, her shoulder slumping. They’re fine. She’s fine. They’re all alive and safe and the fiend is gone and she didn’t die killing it. She looks at Pike and Grog. They both look messy and fight-tousled. Vex imagines she looks like that too.

“Thank you,” she says. She means it.

Grog smiles at her, a warm smile. He’s nice. Big and scary, but nice. “It was really fun.” He probably means it too.

Pike nods. “It was!”

Vex is a little more surprised at that, but she can’t help the grin that stretches over her mouth. They start walking again. Vex invites them for tea or coffee. They both ask for alcohol and she chuckles.

They settle around Vex’s table. The cabin feels a little cramped with the two of them. Vex manages to find three containers for the strong old whiskey that Regae left behind. They cheer and drink.

“I’m from Westrunn. The Everlight brought me here,” Pike says when Vex asks if she’s from Whitestone.

“I’m from Westrunn too,” Grog smiles. “And I follow her.” There is unbridled affection in the way he looks over at Pike.

“My brother’s currently in Westrunn,” she points out. “Spending some time with his boyfriend.”

Pike nods. “That’s sweet! I hope he enjoys the city. It’s a little quiet, but it’s a nice place.”

Vex doesn’t say that she doesn’t expect Vax to do a lot of sight-seeing while with Gilmore. The three of them share some food, the rations they’d taken for a possible camping in the mountains, had the fiend evaded them for much longer.

The camaraderie wraps around her like a warm blanket and she finds herself laughing more than she has in years. When she herself starts to feel a light buzz from the alcohol she’s been very careful not to drink too much of, she shifts and prepares herself to start asking questions.

“Have you spent a lot of time here in Whitestone?” She asks after a moment.

“It’s our first time here, actually,” Pike smiles. “We usually stay in Westrunn, or travel south, not north. There is not much for us here.”

Vex raises an eyebrow. “What changed?”

Pike shrugs. “As I said, the Everlight. I’m a cleric, and when my deity calls, I always answer.”

Vex tries to figure out if that’s true, if Pike always answers to Sarenrae but the gnome is hard to read, her blue eyes staring right back into Vex’s as she speaks. There is a steadiness about her though. Something Vex usually senses in the druids and clerics and acolytes of this world, and also in some arcanists, who have faith in their studies the way others have faith in their gods.

Vex wonders how she feels to people. Is she steady with faith? Or is she chaotic and unstable? She wishes, in this moment, that she could see herself through someone else’s eyes. She wants to know what she is to others, so badly.

“What did the Everlight tell you to do here?” She continues.

Pike’s eyes grow a little sharper for a moment, before she smiles again. “There is something for me to heal here. A soul yearning desperately for redemption. My goddess is the patron of healing and redemption, of second chances. This is what I am here for.”

Vex swallows. “Would that be related to the De Rolo Massacre?”

“Maybe,” the gnome shrugs. “Or maybe not. If we had all the details of what exactly our deities want us to do, all these divine quests wouldn’t be quite the challenges they are supposed to be.”

That’s true, she guesses. Vex is definitely not faithful enough for this. She smiles anyway, leaning back against her chair.

The gnome keeps talking. “Maybe the fiend we killed was that soul. Maybe someone we’ve crossed paths with in the street. Maybe it’s you.”

Vex freezes.

“Many people would ask questions about someone like you deciding to live alone this way, in a cabin in the forest,” Pike shrugs. “It’s none of my business, of course. And I will never fault anyone for unconventional life choices.” She hums. “But you ask many questions.”

Kind, warm, but very perceptive. Vex holds up her hands. “You got me,” she huffs. “Just trying to get answers about what’s going on in this city. No one will answer my questions.” She’s tired of it now. So fucking tired. “It was incredibly difficult to find people to help me with this fiend business because no one will talk to me about anything.”

Pike reaches for her hand. “You are a stranger to these people, Vex’ahlia. Give them time to get to know you. For all they know, you have bad intentions. I come with the symbol of my goddess, and that opens some doors to me, and to Grog.” The goliath nods at the mention of his name. “You don’t have that. Unless you’re some deity’s chosen or champion… But you don’t seem like it.”

Vex almost gets offended by that. But the gnome is right. Vex came into town with suspicious eyes. That’s not something people can trust.

“I’m sorry,” Vex sighs. “For the questions I’ve asked. You didn’t have to answer them.”

Pike shrugs. “I didn’t really mind. I’m here because I need to be. And Grog’s with me because he always is, and always will be.” She smiles at that. “You’re here for a reason too.”

Vex huffs. “Right,” she shakes her head. “Did Sarenrae tell you that?” She asks sarcastically.

“You’re not a believer,” Pike chuckles. “It kinda comes off of you like waves. That you don’t believe in anything.”

Vex lost her reason to believe when a dragon burnt her home village to the ground, taking her mother with it. Every snide remark from Syngornian elves, every time she had to fight for Saundor to do anything for her, those were all nails in the coffin of her faith, in gods or in people.

“I think… I think you should start the way back to Whitestone. The road is long, and I don’t want you to get caught by the night. There are creatures.”

Grog huffs. “We can take them on. You fought by our side, you have seen our power.”

Vex doesn’t reply. Pike gets the memo. She gently pushes Grog into getting up. Vex walks them to the door and to the trail and bids them goodbye.

She sits back down at the table. The cabin is small but it feels huge now that she’s alone. Sounds seem to reverberate now that it’s only her breathing, only her body. She wants to run off and tells those two kind people to come back, to stay, to not leave her alone like this. She doesn’t though. She exhales and she starts preparing for more work, and for a good night of sleep.

Did she get any answer? No she didn’t. But at least she’s killed a fiend. The Alabaster Sierras are a bit safer than they were when she arrived.

[spell-cleaver]

Astrophilia

@star-wars-wlweek

Day 4: Courtship Traditions & Role Reversal

Read it on AO3 or on FFN!

Life on a Rebel base had little opportunity for stability or leisure time in all worlds, but it wasn’t like all Leias expected it. The Alliance was still new and fragile, and Leia still wasn’t used to the sensation of being… around Rebels from other cells. Her experience of resistance was through moving from place to place on a near-daily basis, constant jetlag, the fierce wind in her face as she flew on Enfys’s tail and shot down their attackers before she was shot down herself.

Resistance was lying down in a hasty campy around a crackling campfire in a team of too many species to care for decency or distance. It was about finding a new family despite her history working for the very syndicate that they fought against. Killing Dryden Vos and leaving only a scar on her wrist where the Crimson Dawn symbol used to be had apparently earned a fraction of their trust, and every loyal mission thereafter had earned her even more.

Sitting in a Rebel base, knowing they had the chance to be something bigger, was different. She’d been a cog in the machine before, in the White Worms, in Crimson Dawn. Luke had chafed against it and escaped to fly the galaxy, but she’d been too foolishly loyal to leave until it had become unbearable.

This would be different, she knew. She and the other Cloud-Riders would be fighting for a cause she believed in. But she would still miss her close-knit families born of adversity. She already didn’t see Luke enough.

Even so, she’d thought when she saw the Alderaanian delegation come to negotiate their involvement. Perhaps it would still be possible to make this fight personal.

Princess Qi’ra Organa of Alderaan was accompanying her father to the talks, but she was left to wander the base on Dantooine while Senators Organa and Mothma talked with the other leaders.

She was extremely attractive, Leia had to admit, even in her nondescript fatigues, and Leia had very much enjoyed exchanging barbs and witticisms with her when she volunteered to show her around base. Her long locks, braided in an intricate bun, made Leia self-conscious of her own short, shabby hair, but for what it was worth, the princess seemed… somewhat attracted to her too.

They were here for ten days for the negotiations. Permanently, if the negotiations went well. So Leia decided to jump on the chance while she could.

In theory, she should know nothing about Alderaanian courtship rituals. She was a scum rat turned criminal turned Rebel. She worked in the Outer Rim, far from the planet of beauty and its people. But somehow she had an instinct for how to open them, and it involved a bouquet of… candlewick flowers?

That would prove problematic, considering Dantooine’s climate. But she dug around—checking with Benthic which plants were toxic or not—and scraped together a bouquet of gold flowers, some with crinkled edges, some more trumpeted, some smaller than her thumbnail. And when Princess Qi’ra was next barred from a confidential meeting, she came to find Leia.

“Come for your regular entertainment?” Leia teased, though her heart was hammering. Her torso was under the guts of the Headhunter she was working on and she was just glad it hid her face, even if it meant all she could see of Qi’ra were her elegant boots.

“Well, you’re just so much better than the court jester,” came the reply, and Leia laughed.

“I’m very glad to hear that.” She slid out from under the ship, stood up—she was shorter than Qi’ra—and hesitated a moment, wiping her greasy hands on her overalls.

Then, before she could lose her nerve, she asked, “Does the court jester also give you gifts?”

“Only if it’s my birthday. Or if I saw him damage a tapestry and he’d like me to keep quiet.” Qi’ra gave her an anticipatory smile that contrasted her levity. “Why?”

“Close your eyes. I’ll be right back.”

“Sounds like you’re about to dump engine grease on me,” Qi’ra commented, but after a hesitant moment she closed them.

“I wouldn’t be that crude with a princess!” Leia called as she ran to fetch the bouquet.

“It wouldn’t be uncalled for. Whatever it takes to get ahead—” Qi’ra flinched, her hands automatically clasping around the bouquet, when Leia pushed them in her face. One of her hands folded around Leia’s and held it there, even as she opened her eyes.

“Oh…” she murmured, then smiled slightly at Leia. “They’re lovely.”

Leia stood awkwardly for a moment, her hand held to the soft white linen over Qi’ra’s heart. At this point in Alderaanian courtship, the receiver would kiss the giver on the cheek if they accepted the offer, but ignore it if not, and every second she stood there waiting…

Qi’ra leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Leia smiled broadly. She leaned towards her, trying to catch her lips in a proper kiss—but Qi’ra stepped back.

“First,” she said, “I have to tell you something.”

Leia rebuilt walls around her heart and said, “Anything.”

“Alderaan will not be joining or funding the Alliance.”

Leia nearly dropped the flowers. It was only Qi’ra’s touch, cool on hers, that kept her hands closed.

“At least… I have advocated against it. Fiercely. If my father decides to join, I have already made clear to him that I will not further the cause or engage in such work when I take the mantle of senator, and nor will I continue such involvement when I am queen.”

Leia… didn’t know what to say. She’d spent her life in one fight or another. Choosing to walk away from it seemed unreal.

All she could say was, “Why?”

“Because I am the Crown Princess of Alderaan.” Her tone grew colder, more clinical, as she spoke. Leia got the impression she’d made this mini speech many times. “And Alderaan is a prosperous Core world that stands for beauty, safety and justice.”

“Exactly! So we need your help. You’re exactly the person we need.” Leia broke off. “If we’d had your support during that mission to Ryloth, we—”

“You did not have it. You still survived.”

“We nearly didn’t!”

“And that is precisely my point. I have a duty to my people to keep them safe, well and cared for. Entering them into a war where we will be the biggest target does not serve that.”

“You are already a target.” Leia couldn’t fathom this at all. “The Empire will feel threatened by any move for independence, will take any excuse to raid, mine, tax or impose curfews on you—”

“So we will not give them a reason to.”

“They’ll find one anyway!”

“Not if we are smart about it.” Qi’ra looked genuinely regretful, and that made it worse. “I am sorry, Leia; I know this hurts you. I don’t mean to. I do care for you.”

She squeezed her hands gently. Leia was tempted to let go. “And we… can still work. You work may still bring you to Alderaan, or neutral planets. We can meet there. I would appreciate the opportunity.”

She leaned to kiss her, but Leia turned her head away. Her eyes, strangely, were as dry as they had been in the desert on Savareen. Of the two of them, Luke had always been the one who cried.

“You would still be consorting with a Rebel—quite literally, there,” she said. She took a step back, taking the flowers with her. Her hands were shaking enough that the wind plucked them from her hands one by one, sending them twirling against the barren, dusty earth. “It would still endanger you, and me.”

She threw the remaining flowers down. “If you have no faith for me—us,” she said sadly, “then I can have no trust for you.”

Qi’ra didn’t argue it. She just watched her, a grease stain left by Leia’s hand clinging to her lovely white dress, right over her heart.

“I am going to protect my people,” she said.

“I am going to protect all people,” Leia replied.

Qi’ra straightened up and, like magic, her moment of vulnerability was gone.

“We shall agree to disagree, then.”

[sleep-is-for-the-sane]

Here

Hey guys, so I am really sorry for the sad stories so far but Coronacation is doing a toll on my mental health so… If ya want something different, request it!

Warning: SELF HARM

Word count: 2480 words (The longest thing i’ve ever fricken written in my life!)

You looked down at your hand, seeing it covered in red. So were your forearms, shoulders, collarbone, and thighs. You placed the blood tinted blade down on your bathroom counter and turned your attention to your mirror. Your hair was matted and greasy, your eyes were a dull shade of (eye color), your smile that was always hiding your feelings gone. You had reduced yourself to who you truly were. A person who had no healthy way of coping with the anxiety and depression they had. You continued to stare at your reflection for a few more minutes until you heard your phone ring. It was the BAU alerting you that you had a new case. 

You sighed and jumped into the shower for the first time in a week and washed clean of dried blood. You wore a pair of black jeans, a tank top, a big hoodie, and a pair of converse. You threw your hair up into a messy bun, grabbed your go-bag, and went on your way to meet the rest of the team.

You got into the elevator from the parking garage at the same time as Hotch, your boss and best friend, which was the last thing you wanted right now. “I thought you were sick. Are you feeling better?” He asked

“Oh, yeah. I feel fine now, thanks for asking.” You laughed as you messed with the hood of your hoodie, making sure that your cuts were covered.

Hotch noticed your odd behavior but made no comment on it. You rushed out of the elevator and directly to the conference room in an attempt to stay out of view as long as possible. Everyone gathered in the room and the meeting started. You didn’t pay attention, you could barely look at your team without wanting to run out of the room and back to your prison of comfort. You felt so inferior to your team. They were all so professional and quick on their feet. They were all so confident and you saw yourself as the opposite. You saw yourself as a burden to the team, that they’d be better off without you.

“Hey Y/N, let’s go. Hotch said Wheels up in 20, Babygirl.” Morgan mumbled as you felt him rub your shoulder. You winced and pulled away from his touch. You knew that had definitely confused him since you normally returned his physical affections with some of your own. You both walked out of the room to get ready for the trip out to Jacksonville, Florida.

~Time Skippies~

You had finally caught the Unsub. Although it was surprisingly early in the morning when you did so you had the rest of the day in Florida, in summer, to hang out. And of course, JJ, Prentiss, and Morgan got everyone to decide on going to the beach. You knew that you were screwed whether you went to the beach or stayed at the hotel.

(You chose to go to the beach)

You sighed as you pulled on your swimsuit and thought of ways that you could hide the cuts on your shoulders and thighs but to no avail. You looked through our go bag one more time and decided to pull on a pair of shorts that were barely long enough to cover your cuts and scars and pulled a lightweight hoodie over your torso. “Come on, Y/N! Let’s go!” Yelled an excited Garcia as the bathroom door was pushed open. 

You smiled, grabbed your (bag of choice), and headed out with the ret of the team to the beach. When you finally found a spot to set up everyone laid their towels down and split up to do their own things. You decided to stay near everyone’s things and watch the ocean. After a few minutes you started looking through your bag for your phone and earbuds so you could listen to music but to no avail. You don’t know why exactly but this small little inconvenience set you off. 

You started hyperventilating and you felt tears sting your eyes. On top of that you were growing increasingly hot by the minute. “Miss, are you okay?” Asked a small voice. You looked up to see a little girl staring at you. You let out a breathy laugh and smiled.

“Oh, I’m just a little sad. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Well i know that going in the water makes me happy. Maybe it will make you happy too!” She bounced excitedly when you agreed to go into the water and play with her. But you failed to see Hotch coming back to your area with food in hand before taking off the hoodie and shorts you were using as a cover up.

You had barely gotten into the cool water and the little girl was already splashing you with water. You continued your water fight for about 15 minutes before her parents called her out of the water. You turned around to head back to your things but noticed that your boss was sitting on his towel next to yours waiting for you. Your anxiety came back and told you to turn around and stay in the water but you had already made eye contact with Hotch who was motioning for you to come back to the team’s spot.

You tried your best to get your shorts and hoodie on without Hotch seeing your cuts and scars and you thought it worked but you realized you were sorely mistaken when you sat down. “Take your hoodie off. You can’t hide them forever, Y/N” Hotch sighed. You looked to him with wide eyes.

“Hotch, I-I don’t know what you mean?”

“You don’t have to be afraid alright? Just let me see, please.”

Your eyes watered as you weakly pulled the hoodie over your head and off of your arms.Hotch looked at your defeated form as you slumped down and turned away from his gaze. You sat in tears and he just stared at you. No words spoken, no way of knowing what he was thinking. It was terrifying and you just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep for a few weeks or for as long as it takes to get rid of the ever present tiredness you’ve felt for so long. “Hey, look at me. I’m not mad or disappointed. I just wanna help you.” Hotch soothed as he gently rubbed up and down your arm. You anxiously met his gaze with your own to find the most caring eyes that you have seen in months. He opened his arms wide and you gladly accepted his embrace. 

You felt safe in his arms but you had never told him that. You didn’t want to mess up the relationship that the both of you had already. So you enjoyed the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you for as long as you could. 

Sadly that came to an end when the team came back without warning. You were mortified to say the least, having your scars on display for your misfit family’s viewing pleasure. Penelope was the first to say something. “Oh, Sugar! Those look so painful. Let me help you.” She gasped as she entered Mom mode. She grabbed a bottle of lotion from her bag and started applying it to your cuts. Spencer and JJ started asking if you were seeing a therapist or if there was any way that they could help you, which you brushed away with an “I’m fine” Even though you know that excuse wouldn’t work anymore. Morgan looked at you with sad eyes but said nothing and Prentiss was hugging your side. Hotch was on your other side, just holding your hand.

On the jet, everyone fell asleep except for you. You felt so guilty for worrying the team that you were trying to hide in your hoodie and just calm yourself from today’s events. Hotch walked into the cabin and slid into the booth beside you. “Hey, come here. Let me hug you.” He mumbled as he pulled your body into his side. You ended up with Hotch sitting in the window seat and you on his lap, legs extended to the neighboring seat. “You know I love you, right? You can always come to me. I wish you felt safe confiding in me. I wish I could cuddle all the bad thoughts out of you but I can’t. At least not yet. What I’m meaning to say is that I have feelings for you.” 

You moved your head to look at his face. You smiled and nuzzled your face back into the crook of his neck. “I have feelings for you too, Aaron.” You fell asleep as he kissed the top of your head, safe in his arms.

(You stayed at the Hotel)

“Please come with us?” Whined Garcia as she sat at the foot of your hotel bed. You giggled and set your book down. 

“Sorry Technology Goddess, but I would rather stay in an air conditioned room with a good book than get a sunburn and be sweaty on the jet home. Thanks for the offer though.” The group of girls sighed but honored your wish and went to the beach without you. After a few chapters of reading even the air cooler was struggling to keep you cool so you decided to switch into a loose tank top and a pair of shorts.

You eventually got bored of reading so you put your headphones in and listened to (Podcast/Music/other media) with your eyes closed. Unfortunately you thought that everyone left the hotel with the girls but in reality Hotch stayed back at the hotel as well. Therefore you left yourself unguarded from unwanted eyes. You jumped when you heard the door open.

“Hey, Y/N. I was wondering if you wanted to go get something to eat with the team?” Hotch said as he turned around to close the door. You quickly hid yourself with the bed comforter and tried to calm your heart beat. Hotch looked a little confused but walked over to you. “I know you’re awake, come on. Don’t make me drag you off the bed.” He laughed as you pulled the comforter tighter around yourself. 

“Go away Hotch, I’m not hungry.”

In one sharp tug, you felt the cold air hit your skin as Hotch stood with your makeshift shield in hand. You felt the burn of his gaze on your body as you tugged at your clothes, trying to cover your cuts and scars as much as possible. You didn’t even realize the bed dip next to you until you felt Hotch’s arm wrap around you. You desperately pulled at your clothes as Hotch pulled you back to lean against him. He himself had propped himself up on the pillows and headboard. “Hey, hey, stop. It’s alright. You're with me. You’re safe.” Hotch soothed as you curled into his side.

You pushed away from him but he held you tighter. You fought for a few minutes but eventually gave up. You looked down in a last ditch effort to not talk about the elephant in the room. You felt tears run down your face as hotch pulled you closer to him, doing his best to comfort you. It felt nice to just sit with him and cuddle in silence. But the silence came to an end when hotch shifted in his position. He moved you in between his legs with your back resting on his chest. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you tell me? We could have helped you.” Hotch asked, voice wavering. 

You felt a tear drop on your shoulder as he pulled the blanket back around the both of you. “I was ashamed, Hotch. I’m responsible for so many lives but I can’t seem to get mine under control. I feel like everything is more than I can handle. That’s why I've been gone for a week. I was sitting alone in my apartment just feeling sorry for myself. Everyone on this team is amazing and has a role to play in our family of misfits but I don’t know where I fit, Hotch.” Your walls began to crack and cave under your boss’s gaze. Hotch’s arms grew tighter around you and you turned so you were hugging him.

He kissed the top of your head. “You are the member who keeps this family going when there are no strands of hope to grasp. You become a mother when you need to, a best friend, a shoulder to cry on, someone to call at 3 AM when the job gets too much. Y/N, You are the heart of this team when we want to stop beating.” Hotch murmurs into your hair. Eventually you both end up cuddling in the blanket cocoon that you made. 

About a half hour later, both of you were sleeping peacefully but a sharp knock on the door broke you out of your trance. You whined and pushed yourself into Hotch. The door opened to reveal the whole team with take-out bags filled with food. “So that’s why you didn’t answer your phones.” Rossi stated as everyone else filed into the room. Hotch sat up and looked at you. 

“Do you want me to grab your hoodie?” He whispered. You turned to face the group nodding your head. But before you could get your hoodie on Garcia saw a few scars and cuts from an uncovered shoulder. 

She gasped and walked over to you. “Come here, Gorgeous.” You went to protest but that was cut short when you were yanked off of the bed to reveal the rest of your cuts. The team looked over your shaking form with concerned eyes. Garcia sat you on the desk chair in the room and started rubbing lotion on your cuts, making them feel better instantly. Spencer started asking you if you were seeking help and if you needed help finding a professional. JJ and Emily went through your bag grabbing you a new hoodie and not so secretly confiscating anything that could be used as a self-harm tool. Derek was knelt in front of you, wrapping your cuts with bandages and muttering about how they should have noticed. Rossi was sorting out food and pouring people drinks so that you weren’t overcrowded. 

Once everything calmed down, everyone was hanging out in your hotel room watching daytime television shows and eating. You were in between Hotch and Derek on one of the beds. “Hey, babygirl. You know you can talk to us right? We are your family.” Derek commented as he kissed the side of your head. Hotch quickly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side out of jealousy. You smiled to yourself. “I do now.”

[alexlabhont]

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter Eight.

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing:  Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really

Tags: @dopeyouth @theymakemegayer @save-me-the-last-dance @poppysmc (If anyone want to be tagged in, just tell me)

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so... i’m sorry fo the grammar errors

CHAPTERS 

Chapter seven

ONE-SHOTS 

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

—————————————————————— 

When Poppy told that guy to send a pic of her and Farmsville kissing to The T, she wasn't trying anything but to declare a message, to make clear to everyone in Belvoire, especially to that Wonder Warden Wade of theirs, one little thing: Beck was hers now.

But no.

As usual, things with Beck were completely out of her control, whenever Poppy did zig, somehow Beck always managed to do zag. And this time "Zag" were lots of photos where Beck was hanging out, laughing and even hugging Zoey Wade. Sharing classes, walking side by side. Being together.

Students were talking, The T was speculating. That girl’s happy face making fun of her right from inside the photos and that stupid threat of hers didn’t. Leave. Her. Mind! That New Money was winning, and there it was just one person to blame: Beck Hughes.

So when she finally saw them in the hallway, she was decided to tear them down for good, hiding behind her reputation, behind a failed plan, when she knew deep down herself that she was mad for something else… Sometime hurtful…

But it all went down to shit when what she saw a few seconds later was Beck’s back hitting hard against the wall, and that stupid animal grabbing them by the clothes. For a moment, she completely forgot how to breathe, a loud gasp taking all the air in her lungs, and the pain and rage clutched her heart with such a lightning force and speed that Poppy couldn’t understand; all she knew was she couldn't stop looking at the scene, wanting so badly to be in the middle just to kick his balls so hard that they'll stop working forever. The strawberry blonde really tried to end the fight sooner, but that bunch of assholes that Belvoire had as students started to stand around as disgusting moths, hungry for a fight, so the last thing Poppy saw of the attack for a moment were Beck’s smile and then the pain written all over their face.

And that was it.

She could feel her blood boiling, something weird taking over her body. She was familiar to this feeling, the blonde felt it each time Farmsville proved to be a pain in her ass… but this one's was stronger, deeper, and incontrollable. Her nails were eager to meet Carleton's face until nobody could recognize him ever again. But when she finally got there it was Beck who was doing her job, smashing their fists against his face over and over, growling each time. A quick twist.

Naturally, that bastard was expelled latter that day, everyone totally noticed it because… well… she had her ways. And although it was one less problem without him, that didn’t make up for Beck’s rib.

Yes, she literally dragged them to the hospital to get that X-ray, what was that I'm-Tough-I'm-fine shit? Who were them? Rambo? Beck had that stupid frown through all the way, like a spoiled baby, but it didn't matter, because now everyone was sure that Beck didn't have a broken rib. They were fine.

“Told you.”

“I don't fucking care, Hughes. Now hold that tongue of yours, would you?” The silence she asked for only lasted two seconds.

“You know I told you.”

“Oh, my god. What are you, five?” she rolled her eyes quickly. “Why are you so mad about it anyways? Of course I needed to know if you were ok!”

“I told you I was fine!”

“You’re not a fucking doctor!” Neither of them giving a shit about the driver hearing the conversation. “You don't have anything to prove when it comes to your health!”

She said, why it was not basic information? Why was it something so hard to swallow?

“Poppy?” God, this one just won't stop, right?

“What now?” The blonde didn't even bother to look at them, focusing her attention to what was outside the window.

“You’re right.” Wait what? “I shouldn't be upset about it. After all... You were just taking care of me, so… Thank you.”

Poppy will never admit it to anyone… but that weird but honest and beautiful smile she received made her tremble a little~ bit. Just a little bit. It was kind of like seeing them for the very first time, discover them, a fraction of their very own core shown to her…

But anyways

Right after that, just right after all she did, after that fucking day Poppy hadn't heard a word from that bastard.

So all Belvoire may be asking themselves: what was doing the great, the beautiful, the one and only queen Poppy Min-Sinclair walking through the campus with a fruit tree in hands? Obviously not her hands, an employee's hands, but whatever. Same thing.

Well, the answer was simple: Nobody, and that’s nobody…, could ignore her. No one. Poppy can and do ignore people, but be ignored? Hell, no. She hadn't seen Beck in school neither, no text messages, no social media updates, nor shit, so she was going to pay them a visit, giving them something that surely will make them to never forget about her.

So yeah, a fruit tree. That was an acceptable get well gift, right?

Poppy knocked at Beck's place, waiting, of course, for a quick answer… and waiting, and waiting… and waiting.

“Ms. Min-Sinclair…” shyly spoke that man whoever he was. “Can I put the tree down for a second?”

“No.” Maybe if it were any other time the guy could do it, but not today. Today, when she was going to deliver it personally. Today, when she was giving one of the very few gifts meant from her kind spot. Today, when she was getting angrier and angrier because she hated to wait.

She knocked again. Harder this time, but the results were just the same. And that's when something weird started to happen. Yes, she was still angry, but a stitch-like feeling started to grow inside her. She knew for a fact that Beck was in there, the doctor was clear: They needed to rest and there it was no absolutely way Zoey would let them do anything else. So they had to be there.

“Maybe they're taking a nap or something. Nothing weird, right?” She thought while her eyes wandered through the hall, searching for some magic and very hidden way to get inside the dorm. Because maybe… maybe… they weren’t sleeping.

“No. They’re fine! They’re just doing something stupid like playing the ukulele or whatever musicians do.” Her mind chuckled a little, if she could joke about it, then there it was nothing bad going on… But it didn't work quite well. She was starting to feel preoccupied.

“Er… excuse me?” Poppy turned, a deadly, cold, scary glare piercing that poor bastard's self so hard as the blonde knew she was capable of, making him tremble. It would've been funny if it wasn't for the situation.

“You have exactly two seconds to tell me why anything you have to say is relevant or I'll fire you. Starting now.”

“There’s some guy behind that corner watching us for quite a while now.” The employee said, the strawberry blonde followed the man's sight direction, what kind of creep were stalking them? Seriously, fucking weirdo.

To her fortune in at least this case, Poppy recognized that nerdy, greasy hair guy above a pair of glasses and a suspicious look behind them. Ew, Benji What’s-his-name. Well… desperate times call for desperate measures…

“Hey you!” Poppy called him as demanding as only someone like her could be. “Come closer.”

“W-why?” He asked, reserved.

“Because you’re last place and I basically command you. So stop talking and get your pimpled ass over here.” The guy walked towards them, looking hurt, angry maybe, but who cares? It wasn't her fault he was a looser that nobody cared about. Eat or be eaten, there’s people in this world with the potential to be a force of nature, and there it was people like Benji as well. They’re just there to be used. “I need you to open this door for me. ASAP.”

“What?! But that's against the dorm's ru…!”

“Excuse me, do I look like I care?” Poppy was pretty close to lose her patience completely, but she managed to behave a little, after all he was right. If they get caught, most likely the problems would arrive sooner than later. “Just do it and you're free to leave. Nobody’s gonna know.”

“God, they’re gonna know…” he whispered, playing with his own fingers, making then crack. “But let’s make this quick, ok?”

“That is so what I actually asked you to do, you dumbass.”

Benji looked around like if he was about to rob a bank or something, Poppy rolled her eyes at this, tapping her foot to try and give him pressure to do the job in that instant; the only “big move” he did was swiping his master key on the door, then nudged it open with his foot.

“See? It wasn’t that hard, wasn’t it?” Poppy said, not even looking at Benji. “Now disappear before someone see us talking.”

The strawberry blonde didn't even know if Benji did go away or not, she just went straight into Beck's bedroom, opening the door of the first room she saw.

Bingo.

Beck was sitting on their bed, their laptop over their lap; a pair of big, black professional headphones covering their ears and little Fran--- Pepes comfortably sleeping, snugging next to Beck’s feet. When they saw her, their eyes went wide, taking off the headphones completely surprised and confused, a what's going on written all over their face, especially when the employee came along with her gift.

“Poppy? What the…? How the hell did you…?”

“Shht.” She didn't let them finish, chuckled a little of the incredulous expression they had. The reality was that, now that she knew Beck was ok…, she was… weirdly relieved… and pissed, but that's something she could deal with latter. “I want you to place the tree over there… next to the window… perfect! That would be all. You're no longer required.”

The employee left the room almost immediately, the sound of the principal door closing was the only indication that both of them were completely alone.

“Well… are you going to tell me now what are you doing here or not?” Beck spoke.

“I was just passing by and suddenly I wanted to come. Why? Is there a problem?”

“And what's with the tree?”

“It’s a get-well gift from yours truly.” Poppy shooted a playful wink, receiving a flicker of their eyes, disbelieving.

“A tree?”

“It’s a fruit tree.”

“Right…” Beck said, sarcastic painting their voice as they put their headphones around their neck, placing their attention on the screen once again. Like… hello? Poppy was right there!

“I was knocking for a long time out there. Where are your manners? Did you leave them in the farm?” She joked trying to make them mad, while petting Pepes softly, who kept sleeping as if nothing happened right after opening one eye and closing it again.

“No, sorry. I didn’t hear you… How did you get in?”

“I have my ways.”

“Gosh, that’s so messed up…” Beck murmured, their gaze still on the laptop.

“Seriously? That’s it?”

Feeling like a fool, Poppy clenched her teeth. She was waiting for Beck to do something, to look at her again, to ask her to leave, anything! But no, they kept tapping and clicking while biting the insides of their cheeks.

“Jesus, Hughes!” tired, Poppy walked towards them and took drastically their notebook away...

“Hey!”

… and replaced it with herself, sitting over Beck’s lap trying not to hurt their rib. They were warm, pajamas still on, messy hair and even though the bed was made, you could tell they hadn’t gotten up from there in a while.

“Give me that back…” The determination was in their eyes, but Poppy knew better. She knew for a fact they didn’t want her to obey. Their hands around her waist, the whisper in which they were talking and that dork yet attractive smile on their lips were telling otherwise.

“No.” She said. “I came all~ the way here just to see you. The least thing you could do is give your full attention to me.” Poppy demanded.

“I thought you were just passing by.” Beck said, a mocking grin lighting up their face.

“Just shut up already.” She said, causing them to laugh a little.

“Make me.”  

Oh… that’s new.

But she was happy to oblige, so she kissed them. A spicy, hot kiss where her lips and her tongue played with theirs, trying to take control, to make them forget about the whole world, their own name, and focus on her taste, her touch on their neck, her fingers caressing their skin, traveling down, discovering Beck’s clavicles… but it was hard, because she wasn’t the only one trying to take over the other one… Beck was doing it so as well, so how could Poppy concentrate if she could feel the warm moves of the tip of their fingers tracing an intense map on her back, that she could almost feel as if it was on her bare skin? How can she prove herself superior when Beck’s slow bites in her mouth, savoring her, burned so good?  

“How are you feeling, Tushi-face?” Poppy murmured, ending the moment just before she completely loses control. This was still a plan, and the blonde always had to be the one who they can’t live without. She needed them to be hopelessly devoted to her to make it work, not the other way around. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“Nor a little bit.” Beck took a deep breath, regaining their lost air. But there it was: that lamb face. “I was just trying to pick a good song for an audition.”

“Audition? To what?”

“A metal band. You know, some… stuff.” Poppy frowned, why would them wanted to be on a band? Beck had recognition on their own, fans all over Belvoire and, she can surely bet, even New York. Beck didn’t need anyone else, that’s why she had choose him. Because she knew the potential they had alone. Together… they both would be the power couple of the entire school… and, with her guidance, even more than that.

“Why would you do that?” Poppy asked. Beck responded with a shrug.

“I don’t know. Sounds fun. Besides, there is going to be a battle of bands and I want so badly to show them who's the boss...”

That’s when Poppy saw it for the very first time. The spark on their eyes made of ambition, confidence… arrogance.

“I see…”

All this time, she thought Beck was one of those people that just were going with the flow. A diamond in the rough who couldn't see its real potential… But she was wrong all along… There were more on Beck than they show, and she just figured it out a little more. The music was the answer all this time. She should've seen it before.

“Uhm… Ok. Just pick a song that reminds you of me.” Beck cracked a chuckle, letting their mind wandering thought their music repertoire.

“Oh, I think I have one.” They suddenly said with a playful grin on their face. “I’m sour candy … so sweet then I get a little angry, yeah… Sour candy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…”

“Seriously, Hughes? Blackpink?” They didn't care, they even closed their eyes and kept on singing, dancing their arms in a funny, annoying way.

“I'm super psycho, make you crazy when I turn the lights low… sour candy… yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…”

That was it. Two can play the game just fine.

“Ask me to be nice and then I’ll do it extra mean… tteutbakke pyojeong hanae neon danghwanghagetji...” Poppy sang suddenly, surprising Beck so hard that she couldn’t help but laugh a lot because of their face. “Oh, honey… let me close that for you.” The strawberry blonde used her hand to gentle taking their jaw up. God, how can they be so cute while being dumb?

“You speak Korean?!”

“What kinda question is that? Do you actually know what the Min on Min-Sinclair means?”

“I-I mean, yeah. I just didn't want to assume… what does it mean? That thing you sang?” The blonde raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you knew.” Beck shook his head, that surprised look still into their eyes, but now had a taste of interest and wonder… A chance that she didn't miss. “Well… it actually means this…” Slowly, like a panther hunting her prey, Poppy reach out for Beck's neck, pouring out sweet but dangerous kisses over their skin… Oh, their reactions… Beck sigh, shaking a little, their body was tense, but slowly begun to relax, enjoying the attentions.

Both of their hands started to touch Poppy's body, eager, needy, intensely. Beck's caressed burned more and more over her body to the point where the blonde couldn't take it anymore. She needed them to take her clothes off…

Beck kissed her lips hungrily, tasting her as if they were starving, gripping her hips while doing so. She grinded down on them, stealing a gasp from their lips in between the kisses, driving her mad. Poppy needed to touch them, to feel them, so she put her hands under their shirt, enjoying the burning skin of their actually hard abs… touching careful and slowly up, and up…

“No, Poppy, wait…” Beck suddenly said, nervous and sounding a little scared. Confused as fuck, Poppy moved a little away, shooting them a question-mark-look. What happened? She wanted so badly to ask, but the stupid door opened abruptly, an annoying voice right behind it.

“Beck, I'm home! I got you some soup…”

Zoey was literally in the house. The stupid look on her face when she realized what was happening make Poppy really angry.

“Fuck you, Wade. Don't you see we're in the middle of something?” Something clicked inside the girl, because her astonished expression chance in one second to an indignant one just before slapping the door.

“Shit…”

—-

Next