#and then spent all of swim practice just like. processing that.

[remember-redbeard]

I haven’t read the Gemma Doyle trilogy in over a decade but sometimes I think about Kartik’s knee falling against Gemma’s when they’re riding in the carriage and I feel the urge to gnash & tear & rip

[cevansbrat0007]

What's Eating You, Mr. Barber?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to check out Ari Levinson's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Andrew Barber Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Bickering, Manhandling, Ass Slapping, Daddy Kink, Allusions to Oral Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Andrew Barber from my Growing Pains Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s hard for you to put into words just how much you love playing pranks on your unsuspecting husband. And after downloading TikTok, you’d discovered that the app was home to an online treasure trove of practical jokes designed to make your loved one’s head spin. While it had taken a few days for you to settle on the right prank, you were pretty confident that the one you’d chosen would earn you a fun reaction from Andy without you having to risk your ass in the process. 

You find yourself grinning as you take your time prepping dinner, humming a little tune as you peel and press even more fresh garlic for your homemade tomato sauce. Tonight’s family dinner of spaghetti and meatballs promised to be very interesting. Which was why you’d also taken the liberty of setting up two hidden cameras – one in the dining room and one right here in your kitchen. 

As of now, you had no plans to post this on your channel. But you also didn’t want to miss a minute of your man’s reaction. Until then all you had to do was play it cool for a couple more hours.

Later that Evening…

“Baby Girl, are you sure you don’t need any help?” Your husband asks after watching you make what easily had to be your third trip from the kitchen into the dining room. 

Any other night you would’ve said yes, but not this one. Tonight you were flying solo. The cameras were already on and recording – you’d taken care of that before you’d started setting the table – and so far Andy hadn’t noticed a thing.

Hopefully you’d be able to keep it that way until it was time for the big reveal.��

“No thanks, Big Man. This Mama only has to make one more trip and then we’ll be ready to eat.”  You tell him before sitting two plates on the table in front of your two youngest children. You were down a kid tonight thanks to your oldest, Bianca, being away at a sleepover.  

Andy nods before leaning over to adjust the small hand towel you’d previously tucked into the front of your three-year-old son’s t-shirt. Not that it really mattered all that much since you were positive he’d be swimming in sauce before the meal was over. But what kind of mother would you be if you didn’t at least try?

Biting your lip in anticipation, you scamper back into the kitchen to grab dinner for you and your husband. Andy’s plate was piled high with a generous serving of spaghetti and meatballs. Meanwhile, you give yourself hardly any. 

And therein was the so-called prank. Earlier this week, you’d spent the better part of several hours gleefully watching as dozens of girlfriends and wives proceeded to serve their man impressive looking portions before sitting next to them with virtually empty plates for themselves. Many of the reactions had ranged from hilarious to heartwarming, with only a few dickish exceptions. 

Glancing over your shoulder to ensure you weren’t being watched, you pick up various pans and quietly place them in your oven and out of sight. For this to actually work, Andy would have to believe that there wasn’t enough for seconds or leftovers. Once that’s done, you square your shoulders and confidently march back into the dining room with dishes in hand. 

“I’m back.” You announce, placing a piping hot plate in front of Andy before taking your own seat at the table. “I tried something different with my sauce this time, so everybody dig in and tell me what you think.” 

Andy absentmindedly rubs his palms together as he stares down at the fragrant heap of spaghetti before him. Silently, you will him to look over at what you’d served yourself, but you force yourself to remain quiet so as not to give yourself away. 

“This smells amazing, sweetheart.” Your husband tells you, reaching for a piece of garlic bread. “I’ve been excited for this meal since you told me you texted me at 10:00am.”

“Glad to hear it, Daddy” You pick up the little bowl of parmesan you’d set out and hand it to your middle daughter, Katrina. “What does everybody else think?”

You take a brief glance around the table while you wait for feedback. And although you make a point of not looking at your husband, it’s impossible to miss the way he’s now staring at your nearly empty plate.

“Ooh.” You inwardly squeal, stopping just short of clapping your hands. “It’s starting!” 

“What’s up with this?” His tone is rife with confusion, which only grows when you decide to ignore him in favor of dipping a small piece of bread into some sauce. “Hey – stop!”

“What?” When you finally deign to return his gaze. You have to choke back a laugh as you watch a bewildered Andy comically gesture between your two plates.

“What the fu–fudge,” he swiftly corrects, “is going on with your plate?”

“What do you mean?” You aim to keep your tone light and breezy.

Your husband lets out a frustrated sigh. “Where’s the rest of your food?” He jabs at your plate with his fork, holding up the half of a meatball you’d allowed yourself.

“This was all that was left.” You tell him with a shrug.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His confusion continues to mount even as pauses long enough to grab a napkin to wipe at his son’s increasingly messy fingers. “There was plenty of spaghetti left on the stove.” While he’s occupied you quickly check on little Rory, who appears to be faring slightly better.

“Not really.” 

“Baby…” Andy pins you with a knowing look, one that you readily return.

“What? I…” You trail off, pretending to think. “After I realized BiBi wouldn’t be here tonight, I made some adjustments to the recipe. Turns out I didn’t make enough, so…” Another shrug. “This was all there was after I made everyone else’s plates.” 

Andy is uncharacteristically quiet as leans back in his chair. Meanwhile, your children are busy staring at you, each of them sporting tiny, furrowed brows. Pursing your lips, you set your fork down on your plate and reach for your drink. 

“You can have some of mine, Mama.” KitCat offers before sweetly pushing her plate towards you. The unexpected gesture touches your heart in more ways than one. Not to be outdone, your three-year-old twins also follow suit. 

“That’s okay, babies. I’m perfectly fine.” You reassure them, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Besides, this is all I need and –”

“Thanks kiddos.” Your husband kindly interrupts as he places his napkin on the table. “That was very sweet of you, wanting to take care of your Mama like that.” His brilliant blue eyes beam with pride as he speaks. “But Daddy’s got this one.” 

You’re momentarily taken aback when he stands, picking up his plate as he does. And you’re even more surprised when he motions for you to do the same.

“Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment?”

“Andrew, sweetheart, it’s okay. I promise.”

“Now, please.” It’s an order, that much you know. But at least your handsome ogre has enough sense to take on the word “please” at the end of it.      

“Fine.” You huff before standing and following him out of the room, although not before encouraging your children to keep eating while you’re gone. Just because it was Friday doesn’t mean it was time to dispense their normal bedtime routines.

You were only playing a prank, not embracing total anarchy. 

Once in the kitchen, you each take up residence in opposing corners. But of course, you’re careful enough to avoid blocking the view of the camera. 

“Baby Girl.” Andy exhales, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Do you really mean to tell me that there’s no food left? You really made all that pasta and there’s nothing?”

“Yes, Andrew.” You lie without missing a beat. “I already told you. I trimmed down the recipe because –”

“Because Bianca is gone. Yes, I heard you.” He sets his dish down on the counter, openly scrutinizing it. 

“So then what’s the problem?” You rest your back against your pantry while you wait for him to respond. 

“The problem – my problem –” Andy is quick to amend, shaking his head. “– is that you expect me to sit back and watch you starve while everyone else eats. And I don’t like it.” He scrubs a weary hand over his beard. “Hand me your plate, beautiful.”

“Why?” It’s impossible to keep the suspicion out of your voice. 

“Because I don’t need all of this.” He grunts, taking the plate out of your hands when you don’t comply fast enough. “In fact, I don’t need any of it. You eat and I’ll order myself a pizza after we put the kids down.”

“Andy!” You scoff, which comes out on the heels of a laugh. 

“What?” The man is clearly confused by your dismissal of his offer. “I am capable of handling myself, okay? My hands work just fine.” He grates out, making a show of holding up a large, lightly calloused palm.

“But I…I made that plate for you.” You were seconds away from caving and you both knew it. 

“And I’m telling you, my wonderful wife, that I want you to have it.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to –” You begin, wrapping your arms around yourself. It was time to fess up.

“Fine.” Andy breathes, taking a second to roll his broad shoulders. “Then we’ll split it.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you into his warm embrace so that he can whisper in your ear. “And then, after we put the kids down, we’ll order ourselves a pizza. Maybe open up a bottle of wine while we wait.”

“Yeah?” You murmur, relaxing as you bury your face in his chest. 

God, he always smelled so good.  

“Mhm.” He continues, nuzzling his nose against your curls. “And then, once we’re all giggly and buzzed, I’ll convince you to let me make love to you in front of the fireplace. We can even set up a booby trap so that we pretend like the children don’t exist.”

“Wow.” You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles its way past your lps. “Andy Bear, that sounds amazing. But I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?” He rumbles as his brawny arms tighten around your smaller frame. You were pushing your District Attorney beyond his breaking point.

“Because.” Squirming out of his hold, you dance your way towards the oven in preparation for the big reveal. Hopefully your husband would be a good sport about all of this.

“Because?” 

“Because…” You draw out the word, even as you go to open the oven to show him what’s inside. “There’s actually plenty of dinner leftover. See?” You throw your arms wide, but force yourself to stop just short of adding spirit fingers because you suspected he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Baby, I swear…” Andy sighs, his hands slowly sinking into the pockets of his charcoal-colored slacks as he rocks back on his heels. Most likely to keep himself from strangling you, his lovely wife. “Why–what would possess you to lie about something like this?”

“First off, sweetheart, it’s called a prank.” You bridge the gap between your bodies so that you can wrap your arms around his trim waist. “And secondly, I saw it on TikTok. Ever heard of it?” 

He glares down at you, which has you instinctively clenching your thighs together. That’s part of the reason you loved riling up your Big Man.

Being a brat got your motor running. 

“I take it you have.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss away his frown. “Well, I fell down the rabbit hole the other day while the kids were napping. There’s this whole, like, subsection that’s just pranks. And the latest one involved these women pranking their guys by serving them a huge plate of food, and then pretending like there’s nothing left for them to eat. The reactions were super entertaining, so I figured I’d test it out, you know? Just for fun.”

You grace him with your most dazzling smile, but unfortunately, he’s still having none of it. His frown only deepens as he tilts his face up towards the ceiling in an effort to summon all of his remaining patience. 

“Are you mad?” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip while you wait for his answer.

“Yep.”

“C’mon, Andy Bear!” You pout before placing your hands on his biceps to give him a light shake.”Where’s your sense of humor?”

“Pretty sure I lost it the day you decided torturing me was your new favorite pastime.” He grumbles, although there doesn’t appear to be any heat in his words. “In fact, I have a feeling you just gave me several new grays.”

“Oh, don’t you dare blame me for those.” You tell him, playfully rolling your eyes at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know that you came home with those. I spotted ‘em the moment you walked through the door.” Your sassy response earns you a sharp crack to your ass, making you wince.

“Ow!” 

“Brat.” He grouses, even as he presses a sweet kiss to your nose. 

“Guilty as charged.” You hum, weaving your arms around his neck. “Besides, I had a feeling you wouldn’t let me starve.”

“Not sure it’s even possible to fail that challenge, Baby Girl. I mean, you’re my wife. My partner in crime. Did you really expect me to just let you go hungry?”

“You’d be surprised.” You mutter, making a mental note to show him a few videos featuring some of the men who’d actually failed the test. “But thankfully you didn’t. And neither did the kiddos. Which is why I will graciously allow you all to sleep inside tonight.”

You let out a tiny yelp when Andy suddenly grabs your ass with both hands, squeezing hard as he lifts you up. Unsure of what else to do, you immediately lock your legs around his waist. Right now you were just going along for the ride.  

“Now is that any way to talk to Daddy?” Andy lovingly captures your mouth, lightly stroking his along the seam of your lips. “Especially after you played such a mean trick?” His once clouded blue eyes are now filled with mischief. 

“Oh, I’m not sorry. But if it helps, I am willing to delete the video.” Your husband’s eyes go wide, letting you know that he hadn’t even considered the prospect of being recorded. So you keep talking, hoping to distract him. “And I still wanna get you drunk and take advantage of you after we put the children down for the night.” You run your fingers through his neatly coiffed hair, lightly scratching at his scalp with your nail.

“I don’t know if I should trust you.” He eyes you warily, making clear that he still hasn’t quite recovered from your earlier betrayal. 

“What if…” You lean in close, lightly nipping at his earlobe. “I could find it in my heart to apologize between then and now? How does that sound, Big Man?”

“I mean I might be interested.” Andy shrugs, gently setting you on the counter before bracing his muscled arms on either side of you. “Out of curiosity, just what kind of apology are we talking about?” He gazes at you with lust-filled eyes, eagerly anticipating your response.

“The kind that’s best offered while on my knees, wearing nothing but a flimsy pair of thigh highs and garters.” You know you’ve got him when you hear him groan low in his throat.  

“Fucky, baby.” Your husband hisses, burying his face in the valley between your breasts as his imagination suddenly kicks into overdrive. “Can you be sorry enough to wear the heels too? You know the ones I’m talking about.”

Oh. You knew exactly which ones he was talking about.

“I think so.” You murmur, stroking a tender hand along his back as he struggles to regain his composure.   

“Then we’ve got ourselves a deal.” He grips your hips before kindly helping you down. “Now let’s go get those kids fed and off to bed.” Andy grabs your hand, tugging you behind him as you head back to the dining room to see about your babies. 

“Slow down, Andrew.” You laugh as your legs scramble to keep up. 

“No can do, Baby Girl.” He grunts, picking up his pace. “Daddy’s really looking forward to that apology. So be sure to eat up because…” He trails off when he comes face-to-face with his sauce covered little ones. “...You’re gonna need all of your strength.”

“You can count on it.”

END

[pretzel-box]

Mafia AU Drabble / Suggestive Mature Stuff under the cut

The large room is dimly lit, with only the faint glow of the city skyline spilling through the large windows. You sit quietly in the plush armchair, your heart beating faster than usual while Sebastian leaned in closer.

His large hand wandered up to his fine lips as his teeth bit down on the leather of the glove, pulling the small clothing item of his hand in a slow and smooth motion, dropping it on top of your slightly exposed chest. The evening air feels heavy with tension as his fingers traced your clothed thighs, going up and under your shirt, touching every inch of delicate skin they could find. The expensive decor, the glass of fine wine on the table and the reflection of the crystal chandelier all dropped into the back of your mind as Sebastian Solace kissed your neck with a lively passion, nibbling on your skin and leaving his marks. You moaned softly under his touch, your arms moving on their own as you pulled him closer, drunk from his heavenly scent alone.

There's a sharp contrast between the tender touch and the dominance you feel radiating from him.

His other hand moves with practiced ease, fingers working deftly on the buckle of his expensive belt. The metallic click echoes in the dim room, a brief sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

Before you can fully process the moment, the warmth of his skin meets yours. The heat of his chest presses against your body, igniting every nerve with an electric sensation. His fingers move to the buttons of your shirt, each one undone with agonizing slowness, revealing more of your skin to the cool night air. His lips, soft yet insistent, travel down the line of your collarbone, leaving a trail of heated kisses that send sparks of desire through you.

When his tongue flicks across a sensitive spot just below your collarbone, your body reacts involuntarily, arching into him. He cups the bottom of your thigh, squeezing the skin and lifting your leg with ease before he finally moves his lips further down.

Being married to Sebastian Solace meant living a life draped in luxury, where every desire was met with little more than a whispered request. It was a world of glamour, endless wealth, and the kind of romance that others only dreamt of. All you had to do was stay by his side, adorned in the finest clothes, a silent muse for the man who worshiped you and was ready to devour you at any moment.

Sebastian had two sides, each perfectly balanced as he navigated his complicated life with an effortless grace. By day, he was the charming figurehead of high society, the powerful leader of one of the most feared mafia families in the city. He held the city’s power balance in the palm of his hand, manipulating it like a puppet master, never sparing a thought for the dangers that loomed. He had enemies, yes, but none were foolish enough to challenge him directly. Not with you by his side.

Because when it came to you, nothing else mattered.

His dangerous world faded into the background the moment he looked into your eyes. His focus was singular, always on you. One word from your lips, and the world would bend to your will. If you wanted it, it was yours. He had no limits when it came to spoiling you—lavish trips, private jets, and nights spent under the stars in cities you barely had time to learn the names of. One day you’d be flying over London, and the next, you’d be having breakfast in Paris before taking a late swim in the crystal-clear waters of Hawaii. Time felt irrelevant when you were with him, as though the rest of the world was just a backdrop to your whirlwind life.

You want a car? He’ll get you seven, one for each day of the week—sleek, custom-made vehicles that suited your every mood. You want new clothes? He’ll buy out entire boutiques, filling your wardrobe with high-end fashion from every corner of the globe. And when a closet wasn’t enough to hold it all, he’d give you an entire house just for your clothes, a personal fashion haven, because why not?

To Sebastian, there were no limits. He treated you like royalty, giving you everything before you even had to ask. All he wanted was to see that look in your eyes—the one that showed how much you loved it, and maybe just a little bit how much you loved him for it in return. He will fulfill your dreams all with a handkiss and a charming smile.

[storm-angel989]

Hi! Are you taking requests? If so, may I have a part 3 of Reader disobeying pls? I just finished part 2 and honestly, if I was her I’d still flinch when Valentino was around, and maybe find a way to sneak in some extra food or cash to any of his “workers”, maybe even working a little too hard as a way to distract herself from potential flashbacks. (I just want the Vees to feel regret over how they handled her behavior…😅😏)I’d really appreciate if you’d put those points in it too! God this is getting long I’m sorry! Either way, hope you’re doing well and I can’t get enough of your work!!!

I am always taking requests! And working on them. I actually had a plan to edit like six other requests I've written and instead I read your request this morning and well....the muses visit when then visit. So as with every single time I make a plan, I tossed everything I had wanted to write and edit today aside to write fourteen google doc pages to complete your request.

Oops! Hope you like it! =)

<3 Mandy

They say silence speaks volumes. 

As the third week of volleyball practice passed, I wondered if anyone in my family had gotten the message. 

Four weeks ago, desperate to try to independently earn my own money, I was inadvertently hired at one of my Uncle Valentino’s clubs. He found out, pulled me out, and I was grounded until further notice. As punishment for pretending to be at volleyball tryouts, they signed me up for eight weeks of the sport. Frustrated after the first practice, I spat out words I didn’t mean, and my family decided that it was time I learned exactly what a privileged life I led. 

It was eye opening and terrifying to see exactly what it was that my Uncle Valentino did. Although it was never outright discussed, from the morning I spent with him in his dingy hotel office, watching him process and contract souls both male and female, and the lineup I saw them go through afterwards, I came to the conclusion that sex work, drugs and Uncle Valentino went hand in hand. 

For the first time in my life, I saw the darker side of my family. The control my father, Vox had over the city in terms of technology and electricity. The hold my Aunt Velvette held over not only the fashion industry and social media- but on all goods imported and exported throughout the pride ring. And Uncle Valentino- every soul that passed through hell went through him first. In exchange for basic survival, he thrust souls into either his clubs, Velvette’s stage, or Vox’s office. He kept them hooked on the drugs he sold in exchange for their labor, for their bodies. 

After all, it took a thousand unpaid hands to run hell. 

The deeper I dug, the more afraid I became of the only people I knew as my family. I spent my study halls researching, reading blogs and articles about them. Known as the Vee’s, the three of them truly were the most powerful overlords in hell. They had their hands in and controlled everything that went on in the pride ring. Gone from my mind was the softness that I knew them for. In its place was this image of their true selves. 

Photos of Valentino with razor sharp teeth, a single one glinting gold, my father as electricity surrounded him and Velvette, surrounded by swirls of purple took the place of those memories. 

I began to dread going home, dread getting into the limo with Uncle Valentino after each practice. But there was no way out. No sneaking past him, or any of them. I was suddenly aware of just how many eyes I truly had on me every single moment of the day. It didn’t matter if my father did someday decide to inject a tracker into my skin. Not when he controlled every camera on every corner of the pride ring. 

I took to hustling from my last class of the day to the girls locker room to get ready. On the days I didn’t have practice, I found myself inadvertently taking his advice to get stronger by either working out in the school gym or swimming laps in the pool. My body was tired, but at least it gave me an excuse to be away from them. 

I took my sweet time getting dressed  and by the time the rest of the girls joined, we needed to be out on the gym floor. As always Valentino was perched up atop the bleachers, either talking on the phone or typing on his laptop. As soon as practice was done with, he met me at the locker room door to escort me out to the limo. 

“How was your day, bebita?” He would ask.

As if he actually cared. Besides, what did my day matter when he had thousands of other women's lives he was destroying? 

“Fine,” I would reply. 

Short one word responses. Answering questions as he asked, but giving no more than he demanded. I tried not to look at him, and instead kept my nose buried in whatever textbook I happened to have in my backpack that day. Three weeks. Three weeks of going through the same routine. 

Now, as I stood just around the corner from the dining room, I could hear them talking over breakfast.

“Vox, I’m worried about her,” Valentino said as he sipped his coffee. “She doesn’t speak. She goes to school, to practice or to the gym, comes home, eats dinner and goes to bed.”

“I mean, isn’t that sort of what we asked of her?” Velvette asked. “The whole point of this was to show her just how fortunate she is.”

“I’ve seen enough broken people in my life to know when something isn’t right,” Valentino retorted. “She’s quiet. She’s definitely losing weight. And she looks like she hasn’t had a good night's sleep since this whole thing began.” 

My father seemed unconcerned. “I’m sorry she had to learn the dark side of hell. I guess it’s a punch to the gut when you realize life isn’t all sunshine and butterflies. She had the privilege of living the first sixteen years of her life in blissful ignorance. Let her stew. Let her be mad. As for her body changes…” he shrugged. “She’s more active now. Hitting the gym. Playing volleyball. Losing weight is expected. She’s eating dinner with us, so I’m not worried. She’s just mad.”  

“I don’t think she’s mad, Vox,”  Valentino replied slowly. “I think she’s afraid. Of us.”

Velvette rolled her eyes. “Valentino, do you hear yourself? That’s ridiculous. She has no reason to fear us- we’re her family for christ sake we would never hurt her. She knows that.” 

“I’m just saying,” Valentino shrugged. “Maybe Vox should have a talk with her.” 

Vox sighed. “If it would make you feel better, send her up to my office when you two get home tonight, alright? We’ll have a little father daughter heart to heart.” 

Quietly, retreated to my bedroom. Discussion? No. I had read enough at this point to know that my father specialized in mind control. I didn’t want to be any part of any conversation that involved my father, or any of them for that matter. 

And worse? There was no way out of this cage they built. 

“Babydoll! Breakfast!” I heard my fathers voice call from down the hall. 

I could feel the bile rise up in the back of my throat. I swallowed it back and picked up my backpack. I had no desire to sit down and have breakfast with these…monsters. But he couldn’t know that I knew. 

“I’m not hungry,” I called back. “I’ll eat at school!” 

I heard his heavy footsteps fall as they made their way down my hallway. I shrugged my backpack over my shoulders and pushed my bedroom door open to where my father stood on the other side, arms crossed. 

Fear wrapped around my heart as my mind flashed back to the images of him I had seen. My father. A murderer. A control freak. 

“Hey, honey? Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He said as he reached his hand out as if to touch my forehead. 

I jumped back and looked away. The article said to avoid his eyes, if at all possible. 

“Yeah, I- I’m fine. I’m just running late, I’ll see you later. Bye.”

I pushed past him and hurried out towards the elevator door. 

“Practice, after school!” He yelled behind me. “Uncle Val will pick you up.”

“Got it,” I said as I stepped into the elevator. 

The school day passed too quickly. Anxiety clenched my stomach with each passing hour, making concentrating or eating next to impossible. By the time I trudged my way to practice, my head ached and my ears were ringing. I tried to ignore it and sipped on my water as I jumped into the routine. Ten laps. Stretching. Mini games. 

Maybe it was from not eating. 

Maybe it was from dehydration or lack of sleep. 

Maybe it was the anxiety from the realization that the people I loved the most in this world were not good people. 

Whatever reason it may be, I jumped to spike a ball and when I landed, a loud snap echoed through the gym. Instantly, I was on my side as pain shot through my body. 

The game came to an immediate halt. Two of my teammates helped me over to the bleachers as the coach talked to me quietly and gingerly pulled off my sock and sneaker. Dark bruises wrapped like a handprint around my ankle. I could feel Valentino’s eyes on me. When I looked up, he stood behind the crowd, concern scrawled over his features. 

Or at least, what looked like concern. He was pretty good at faking it, after all. Just like he did in his office that day. With those girls. Around me, my teammates fawned. 

“I’m fine,” I said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not. Rosa, go grab her backpack,” the coach replied and waved towards one of my teammates. “You’re going to have to get this looked at,”  She turned to look at Valentino. “Do you want me to call an ambulance or…”

“We can take care of it privately,” he replied calmly as he slid his arm under mine. “Lean on me, Bebita…”

“No,” I said sharply.

He gave me a quizzical expression. 

“No..I, I just need my backpack. And maybe my teammates can help me. Uncle Val, can you just have the limo pull around the front?” I said quickly.

He eyed me but took the backpack from my teammates hands and walked ahead of us as two of the other girls slipped their arms under me. Together, we hobbled our way out the front door and Valentino waited as I carefully got into the limo.

“I’ll be okay, I promise,” I told them before Valentino got in. “I’ll text you tonight.”

The second the door closed, I scooted as far away from Valentino as I could. Now that I was out of everyone's sight, the pain radiated through my ankle at full force. 

“Put your leg up on the seat, let me take a look,” Valentino said gently. 

“No, keep your hands off me,” I snarled as I pressed further away from him. “I’m fine. Just give me an ice pack. I have the gym tomorrow and practice on Wednesday. I’m fine.” 

“Honey, that ankle looks broken,” he said softly. “This punishment isn’t…”

“You’ve made it very clear what you’re capable of, don’t fucking touch me,” I snapped. 

To my suprise, he pulled away. 

“At least put it up on the seat. Elevation, until we see the doctor,” he replied. “I’m calling your dad now.”

“Don’t bother, I’m fine.”

He didn’t answer. As soon as the limo stopped, he lifted up my backpack and offered his arm. 

“You can’t walk on that,” he said quietly. “Please let me help you.” 

“I’m fine,” I replied as I stepped out good foot first. 

Pain shot through me the second I tried to put weight on it and to my dismay, I felt Valentino’s arm under me. Without a choice, I leaned on him as we walked into the V tower. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said with a little more firmness. “We’re going upstairs to the nurses office and…”

“I’ll pass on going into your studio,” I snapped as the elevator door opened. “Just leave me alone.”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” My father asked as he stepped out of the elevator. “Val, why aren't you carrying her? If it's broken, she shouldn’t be walking on it.”

“She wouldn’t let me,” Valentino replied sharply. 

“Enough of this crap,” Vox hissed with a roll of his eyes. “Since when do you let your teenaged niece boss you around?” 

He walked to the other side of me and slid his arm under mine. 

“No, Dad. Don’t! Let me be, please!” I begged. 

“You’re hurt. Why are you acting like this? Why won’t you let us help you?” He demanded as he lifted me up into his arms. 

I closed my eyes tightly. I felt him move and heard the elevator door close. 

“Reader? What are you doing?” He asked. For the first time, I heard concern in his tone. “Why are your eyes shut like that?”

I didn’t answer. 

“I told you..” Valentino said softly with a sign. 

“I asked you a question,” Vox said as the elevator door pinged again. “Reader. Answer me. Your Uncle Val seems to think you’re afraid of him. Afraid of me. Is that true?”

I didn’t answer and instead kept my eyes tightly closed. The familiar scent of strawberries filled my nose, but instead of the usual comfort, all I could feel was fear. Each step he took brought me closer to where I was sure I would be drugged, sure I would be hypnotized, sure I would be forced into…

My thoughts were interrupted as I felt my father lay me down on one of the beds. I heard the curtain pull shut and footsteps walk away.  I opened my eyes ever so slightly. Sure enough, the familiar bright lights shone back at me. I was in the nurse's office in Valentino’s studio. 

And I was alone. 

I pushed myself upright and assessed myself. Every part of me ached and my ankle throbbed painfully. Tears welled up in my eyes, tears and I tried to bite them back. The sound of the curtain being pulled back and I shut my eyes tightly. 

“Would it make you feel better if you got a little honesty?” My Aunt Velvette’s voice floated across the room. “Don’t worry. Both your Dad and Uncle Valentino are talking to the doctor. It’s just us.”

“You guys are monsters, why should I trust any of you?” The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You lied to me my entire life, you…”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Velvette perched herself on the edge of the bed. “Sweetheart, we live in hell. The people who come through…”

“Don’t deserve to be sold as sex slaves,” I said angrily. “Or forced to work as models, or stuck under hypnosis by my Dad or…”

“Is that what you think we do? Where do you get your information from?” She asked with amusement. “Not for nothing, but there are a few things wrong with your theory.”

“Oh, so Uncle Valentino isn’t in the sex business? He doesn’t sell drugs? You don’t control the product distribution and my father doesn’t control every single bit of technology and electricity that exists in the pride ring?” I said as I pushed myself more upright. 

“No, those things are true. And what we do at its core is probably more wrong than right. But we’re not monsters. Valentino isn’t selling these women- his contract provides an out. A consent clause. I could choose to cut off production and supplies at any given point. But I don’t. And your father…well, your father wouldn’t use his powers on you unless the circumstances were extreme. And I do mean extreme,” Velvette said softly. “And none of us would intentionally hurt you.”

I felt my anger grow. “You decided that because I wanted to make my own money…”

“No,” she cut me off. “That wasn’t why you got in trouble to begin with. You got in trouble because you lied to us, took your tracker off and decided to go work in a sex club. And yes, we enrolled you in volleyball and yes, you made a snarky comment that scared the shit out of Valentino. I’m not saying how he and your father reacted was right, but I am telling you they love you dearly.” She leaned forward, “someday you too will be an overlord in hell. Someday you too will have the responsibility to these souls that we have. It’s not going to be perfect. And it’s not always going to be right- we live in hell, sweetheart. Handling the darkness is part of what we do.”

I was quiet as I considered her words. A few moments later, the doctor walked in, followed by Vox and Valentino. Velvette stood up and the doctor looked over my ankle. 

One x-ray later, a broken ankle was the diagnosis and an orthopedic specialist was on his way.

“Sweetheart, when was the last time you drank anything?” Vox asked as the nurse looked over my veins.

I stayed quiet as the nurse wiped the crook of my arm. Normally, Uncle Valentino would be the one to put an IV in. But now that I knew why he was so damn good at it, I didn’t want his hands anywhere near me. 

“I’m going to try to do this in one shot, but your veins are pretty small,” she told me. 

I winced as she stuck and restuck me. The third time she pulled the needle out, I burst into tears. 

“No more, I can do it without pain meds, I swear!” I sobbed. “Please, just stop.” 

Valentino handed me a tissue and gave the nurse a writhing look. 

“Leave it,” he growled. “You’re done. Either get someone competent or…”

“Uncle Val, stop. It isn’t her fault! I’m the idiot who didn’t drink all day!” I sobbed. “Just stop!” 

He reached forward as if to take my hand but seemed to think better of it. 

“Show me your arms, bebita. Please?” He asked quietly. 

Hesitantly, I showed him both my arms and he carefully studied the veins. 

“I can probably stick you, if will you let me?” He asked softly. “Please, conejito. You don’t want him to set it without some sort of relief. It isn’t good for your body to be under that much strain.” 

I closed my eyes. The pain was increasing with each passing moment. He was right- I couldn’t take much more of this. Ever so slightly, I nodded my consent. 

True to his word, a single pinch later and I could feel the cold saline seeping into my veins and the pain slowly eased up. Nausea washed over me and the bile from earlier crept back up my throat. I felt my father’s hands pull my hair back and Valentino shoved a bin onto my lap. I coughed as I emptied what little was in my stomach into the basin. 

“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” Vox said as he braided my hair back. “I knew you didn’t look good this morning.” 

“I just didn’t have time to eat today,” I whispered. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” 

Valentino visibly bristled. “You are very much not fine. You…” He let his voice trail off and instead brushed the hair out of my face. “I’ll get the nurse to give you something for the nausea. After that, if I get you saltines, will you eat them? Maybe drink some apple juice or ginger ale?”

I shook my head no. “I’d rather have an apple or fruit or something. And water.”

“Not on a sick tummy, crackers or dry cheerios,” Velvette interjected with a shake of her head. “You don’t do well with anything else.” 

Defeated, I closed my eyes as I listened to both their footsteps walk away. How was it that these three, that all I read about them, all that I knew…were tending to me so carefully? That the same man who sized demons up and down, sold drugs and made a deal for their soul would ever so carefully slip a needle into my arm? That my father, the overlord of technology, would hold my hair back as I got sick? I couldn’t wrap my head around it, around the stark difference between the demons I grew up with and what I saw in Valentino’s office. The demons who were in the hospital room with me now, and the ones I read about on the internet. 

“The nurse is coming by with zofran,” Valentino said as he pushed the curtain back. “It will help settle your tummy. Velvette went upstairs to grab you something to nibble on.” 

“I don’t get it,” I said softly. 

“What don’t you get?” Vox asked. 

I hesitated. At that moment, the nurse came in and Valentino plucked the vial from her hands. She set a cup of apple juice on the table and he shooed her away. 

“Just for the nausea,” he explained as he injected the line. As soon as it was in, he picked up the cup of juice and lifted the straw to my lips. “Sip, then talk to us. “We’ve always had an open discussion in this family. What’s bothering you so much?”

I took a sip of juice and swallowed. “You, and Dad and Auntie Velvette, what you do is just wrong,” I said finally. “You hurt people, you punish people, you…Dad, you use mind control to literally take over companies, Uncle Valentino you sell drugs and Auntie Velvette she…she literally ruins people’s lives on social media and decides when and where there will be supply shortages and it isn’t okay! And then you turn around and treat each other and me like…like this!” 

“Woah, woah woah,” Vox said softly. “Where did you learn all that?”

Valentino crossed his arms and gave Vox a ticked off look. “What did I tell you? She should have never gone with me. I told you, I fucking told you!”

“Damn it Valentino, calm down. She was bound to find out the truth sooner or later. Now it’s up to us to sort fact from fiction,” Velvette said as she pushed the curtain back. She pressed a bag of cheerios into my hand, “here. Nibble on these.” 

“I don’t want to,” I said as I rubbed my eyes. “I…”

“You need to get something in your tummy, otherwise you won’t feel better,” Vox said, “Just a little. And listen to what we have to say, okay? Can you agree to that?”

Without seeing any other option, I nodded and put a cheerio in my mouth. My father looked to Valentino and Velvette.

“We..shouldn’t have introduced you to our work lives that way. I shouldn’t have made you…I should have done things differently, I’m sorry.” Vox said quietly. “You didn’t need to see your Uncle Valentino in that role. I wish I could take it back.”

“You’re not going to hypnotize me, are you? Make me forget?” I asked fearfully. “Daddy, I…”

“No, no no…no. Absolutely not,” he replied quickly. “No. You're my daughter and I wouldn’t do that to you. Not now, not ever.”

“So it is true. You can do that. I mean, I always sort of knew what you three were. Sort of knew you were hot shot overlords, but I didn’t realize that…how bad you…” 

Vox held up his hand. “The things we do, we do them because that is our job. We do our best to balance the good and bad in hell. We’re not without compassion, but we have a job to do. A job that provides housing, food, clothing, basic necessities to both hellborn and fallen. There are downsides to things and maybe, maybe when you’re a little older you’ll have different ideas, ways to do things better. But for now, this is our job.” He swallowed. “My mistake was trying to teach you a lesson, and mixing the life we’ve built at home with the businesses we run each day. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I hate that I made you so afraid,” Valentino added quietly as he sat down on the bed next to me. “Princessa, you are my little girl. You always have been. I don’t want you to flinch away in fear. I’m sorry for what you saw. And I’m sorry I frightened you so, so badly. How can I show you I’m not…how can I show you you don’t need to fear me?” 

I swallowed. “Uncle Valentino, let me…I want to be more involved in this business. I want to learn the process myself, understand it for myself.” 

The three of them exchanged glances. Hesitantly, I saw my father nod. 

“Alright, fine. We…we can do that. But not just Uncle Valentino’s responsibilities. All of ours. And…” he sighed. “And I’m going to put you on the payroll. Checks deposited into a private account with just your name on it. That’s what started this entire thing anyway, isn’t it?” 

“Dad, why do you look so upset? Shouldn’t you be thrilled that…”

“Thrilled?” Emotions rushed across Vox’s face, a mix of pain and sadness.  “You think I’m happy knowing we made you so afraid, so terrified of us? I worked so hard- we worked so hard so that you could have a normal childhood- a life without care, without worry. I wanted you to not have to go through the struggles we went through when we were sixteen, I wanted you to enjoy…I wanted you to enjoy being sixteen.” 

For the first time in my life, I saw my father looked defeated. 

“You know, she doesn’t have to give up being sixteen,” Velvette said as she put her hand on Vox’s shoulder. “We can start to introduce her to the family business and let her enjoy school and let her do all the stuff we didn’t get the chance to do.”

“She’s still your ninita, and you’re still her Papito,” Valentino added. “Besides, we’ve always had an open door policy.” 

“Daddy, what was your childhood like? Auntie Vel, Uncle Val I…”

At that moment the next doctor walked into the room. I groaned inwardly as he introduced himself to the adults in the room. 

“You’re a lucky girl,” he told me as he hung my x-rays. “You missed requiring surgery, but setting it will be painful. I’m going to have the nurse give you a dose of something extra strong so you don’t feel anything.” 

“Just, just give the vials to my Uncle Valentino, he can do it,” I said hesitantly. 

“You sure, bebita?” Valentino asked as the nurse brought over the supplies. 

I nodded and watched him wash his hands and pull on gloves for the second time that day. “What..will you tell me what you’re giving me?”

I saw his expression soften. 

“Of course, bebita,this first one is for pain,” he said soothingly as he uncapped the vial and slowly pushed down on the plunger. “Now before I give you the next, tell your Dad what color you want your cast. You can have any two colors you choose.”

“Purple and red?” I asked hopefully as I looked at him.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Vox assured me. He sat down on the bed next to me, took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I love you.”

“I love you too Daddy.”

“This next one is going to make you not care about what the doctor is doing or anything else that happens for the next few hours,” Valentino continued. “Once this is in your bloodstream, you’re going to feel a little sleepy. Just relax, when the doctor is done we’ll bring you upstairs to your own bed, okay?” 

Velvette perched herself on the bed next to my father and patted my uninjured leg. “Don’t worry sweetheart, once we get you all patched up we’ll make a plan. No more secrets, okay?”

I nodded and let the drug Valentino pushed into my body start to work. True to his word, I wasn’t exactly sleeping, but I certainly didn’t care too much about what the doctor was doing. The next thing I knew, I was snuggled into my own bed with my father sitting next to me. 

“Sleep, babygirl,” he said softly. “We’ll talk more in the morning. I promise.”

I felt my eyelids grow heavy. Maybe I could trust them after all. 

[woodlaflababab]

Saw your request for Zukkang prompts and idk for some reason what's popping into my head is "pillow case". So... do with that what you will?

Okay so, I ended up more going with bed than pillowcase, that's just what the word pillowcase inspired in my head, and it turned into aangst. So, oops. But also, I really liked writing this so, good prompt, 10/10

-<>-

“So,” Aang started with a stretch, “where am I sleeping tonight?” 

Zuko, having been entirely absorbed in reading a new potential bill despite Aang's best efforts, perked up. “Oh, yes, follow me. I have something to show you.”

As Zuko stood, Aang followed him, hoping whatever it was would be quick. As happy as he was to arrive in the Fire Nation again, he was tired and a little sick of being shown around. “Is it a bed?” He joked.

“Yes.” Zuko answered bluntly, leading Aang down familiar halls.

“Oh.” Was all Aang could really think to say, remaining silent for the rest of the walk. He spent the time trying to figure out why Zuko was treating this differently than usual. His best guess was Zuko had recently replaced some of the palace beds and wanted to show off.

When Zuko stopped in front of a door, Aang immediately noticed the air symbol carved into it before Zuko opened it to show Aang the inside.

As Aang walked in, he looked around, finding the room pretty simple. It was definitely different from the usual palace guest rooms, with significantly less fire nation decor, or decor at all, and the covers of the bed were yellow and orange instead of the usual red. 

Aang made an interested sound. “Very Air Nomad, I like it. It's a great idea.”

“What?” Zuko said from behind him, sounding genuinely confused.

Aang turned to him. “You're redesigning the guest rooms to be more friendly to foreign visitors, right? Have you done any Water Tribe or Earth Kingdom ones yet?”

Zuko blinked at him a few times, still seeming confused. “Well, no. I hadn't really thought of that. Do you think I should?”

Aang laughed, the sound a bit questioning. “What do you mean? Are you going to make all the guest rooms like this? There's only one Air Nomad in the world, Zuko.”

Zuko just stared at Aang like he was trying to figure out if Aang was kidding.

Aang stared awkwardly back, unsure where the joke was supposed to be.

Eventually, Zuko snapped out of it, shaking his head, “No. Aang. This isn't a guest room. It's your room.”

The pieces suddenly clicked and Aang let out a soft, “Oohhhh.” Apon the realization, he looked back at the bed. For a few moments, his head just felt quiet, a gaping place where he felt a reaction should be, before it belatedly hit him and he started tearing up before he could really process the rush of emotions.

“Agni.” He heard Zuko curse, sounding vaguely panicked. “Is something wrong with it? I tried to find information on what Air Temple rooms were like but there wasn't much. I thought maybe just the colors- That was a bad assumption. I'm sorry. What is it supposed to-”

“Zuko.” Aang cut him off, voice scratchy. “Shut up.” Aang started wiping away the wetness but more kept gathering every time he tried, the yellow bed swimming in his mind even when he closed his eyes. Every time he tried to douse the burning in his chest on instinct, it just came back and the building frustration with himself really wasn't helping.

After another few moments, Zuko spoke up again, unsure. “Aang? I don't know what to do here. Please just tell me how to fix it.”

Aang shook his head. “I'm not upset.” He tried to explain.

In the ensuing silence, he could practically hear Zuko's doubt. “Right. Okay.” The next time Aang opened his eyes he could see Zuko had come around to the other side of the bed. “So then, what are you?”

Aang covered his eyes. “I don't know.”

“Okay, well, what,” Zuko hesitated, “are you thinking?” 

Hearing Zuko use the voice he did when he was trying to emulate someone else allowed some amusement to break through the mess in Aang's head and he managed to piece a little bit together. “I haven't had my own bed since before the ice.” His voice came out weak. With the words, the rest of it fell together in his head.

It was true. He'd had a room at the air temple, a place he could return to when he came back from his travels. It was reliable, and as much as he had enjoyed traveling and as happy as he was to sleep on Appa's tail, coming back to the familiarity of the temple and the comfort of his own bed felt like relief.

Then the ice happened, and he woke up to destroyed temples and his people gone, and he spent the better part of a year on the run, and even after that, he was still expected to be The Avatar, to help rebuild the world. Staying in any one place for too long carried the risk of people worrying he was picking favorites, or that he'd miss some disaster going on somewhere else. 

Everywhere he went he was hosted by leaders and delegates or his friends but there was never justification for his own space. Not when he'd only use it for a few weeks at most. As the thoughts kept tumbling through his head he realized, even though the war was over, he felt like he was still on the run, displaced with danger constantly on his heels. The feeling had become so intimately familiar, it felt like normalcy.

Something about seeing the yellow bed, a place made for him to come back to again, made it all come crashing down. It was like he could finally acknowledge that it was over, that things could be safe again, that settling down wouldn't mean everything around him would burn.

For so long, sleeping in a bed was associated with duty. People housed him because they needed him. Beds came with obligations, like an exchange. His services for a place to sleep. They weren't places for him to just be or rest. Technically, there shouldn't have been anything different about this one. He was still there because the fire nation needed him. Zuko calling the room his shouldn't have changed anything. It was such a small thing, he couldn't figure out why it felt like his chest had suddenly been carved open.

As the thoughts tumbled through his head, he'd lost track of Zuko, and so startled when he felt arms wrap around him. Even though he was pretty sure that was supposed to make him feel better, it just seemed to make it worse and he couldn't get his eyes to stop leaking. Yet there was still a comfort to it. The warmth of Zuko allowing the thoughts to die down like dying waves, leaving just the spill of emotion and pain. He lost track of time standing there, face ending up tucked against Zuko as the silent crying continued, but thankfully, eventually, it slowed, like he'd run out of emotion and tears and in its place he was just empty and exhausted.

He looked over at the bed and wanted nothing more than to just lay down and sleep. Zuko must have picked up on something because he pulled back and guided Aang toward it, taking a moment to pull down the covers.

“Go to sleep, Aang.” He coaxed quietly. “I'll see you in the morning.”

Already feeling half asleep, Aang collapsed into the bed, sinking into it like melting. The last thing he registered was the covers coming up before he finally laid to rest.

[princess-leaorgana]

Please Come Back

Little Rolan x AFAB Tav based on this fanart made by la_bordeliere

BG3 END GAME SPOILERS

Never had Rolan moved so quickly in his life. He had been through a lot in the past few years, surely, but blind instinct had the tiefling running from the comforts and safety of his wizard’s tower to the docks of the Chianthor. The Netherbrain had fallen, the illithid monstrosity had fallen from its place above High Hall, crashed into the sea, and in a terrifying explosion, was lost. Gone in an instant. But what of those on top of that monstrosity? All of those people fighting for the safety of Faerun? Plenty of people had died in the streets, Rolan was sure some of his cannon fire had harmed innocents, that was the horrible price of war. So why did Rolan care so much about those on top of the aberration? He didn’t, not really. He only cared about one of them. The one who was responsible for his life, his fortune, his family’s safety, his new home. Surely. Surely she was not dead. A ranger, like his brother, a ranger who took charge, no matter how many times it had pissed him off. But Rolan had been stubborn, impatient, and most importantly, wrong. Allowing the ranger to push him time and time again, allowing his sturdy walls to be crushed, it led Rolan to one conclusion. He loved the ranger. The last time he saw her was just at the entrance of High Hall, and he replayed the moment in his head for the past hours since it happened, regretting he did not say more to her.

‘Well, make sure you hit the illithids, everyone else should be left unsigned, if possible,’ she said and Rolan grinned.

‘As if I need any instruction,’ Rolan responded playfully with a smile, adrenaline pumping through his veins. She was really going to climb up that damned thing. ‘You should take your own advice,’ he added and she laughed. She nodded and began to walk away, but Rolan caught her arm. She looked up at him, a little bewildered, but was always ready to hear him speak. ‘Come…please come back,’ he said softly and she stared into his golden eyes. ‘Please.’ He felt her take his hand and squeeze it.

‘I will,’ she said just as softly and Rolan felt his heart fall. She couldn’t promise that. He swallowed hard and nodded, letting her go. She walked away and without another word to anyone, Rolan fled back to his tower, awaiting her signal. 

The Chianthor was alive with debris from ships destroyed in the crash, people were swimming up to shore, though plenty of lives were lost. Rolan’s chest felt tight as his eyes searched the water for a sigh of her, of any of that group of misfits. The large tiefling, Karlach, surely would be visible, the woman was on fire. The githyanki? Maybe Gale cast a protection spell, making the weave visible along the water’s surface. He saw nothing, he was paralyzed. No, she couldn’t be gone, not now, not after everything they had survived thus far. Mindlfayers were dead in the streets, maybe that was her fate too, having that damned tadpole. His eyes searched the water and docks frantically for any sign of her. And then his heart stopped.

‘Rolan?!’

Her voice, he was hallucinating, surely. His tail whipped furiously behind him and he slowly turned to the sound of her voice. At the speed of light, she was running at him. She was alive. She was drenched and bloody and bruised but she was alive. She was moving so quickly, her boots pounding on the wood of the docks. Rolan barely had time to process his relief before she lunged at him. Hard. He had barely turned around fast enough to catch her, her lips crashing against his. The force of her running jump wasn’t too strong for him to catch her, he caught her. He held her tight, she was drenched. Now he was. He had longed to kiss her for months now, aching every single night he spent at the Last Light Inn. Practically falling over himself when she helped set him free from Lorroakan. And she just did it. How could she be so bold? He was grateful for it. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him tight and he was so glad. 

‘Are you alright?’ She asked and Rolan couldn’t remember how to breathe. He looked down at her and nodded.

‘I love you,’ he whispered and she laughed lightly.

‘I know, I love you too.’

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance: The Outtakes - Rekindled

Word count: 12.8k

Pairings: Sam x OC

Warnings: Alcohol, Smoking, Cursing, Mentions of Sickness, Death, Heartbreak, Abandonment, Dramatic Themes, Angst, Fluff, Smut Including: Kissing, Making Out, Touching, Fingering, Digital Penetration, Praise, Unprotected Sex.

A/N: Hey! Welcome to Vigilance: The Outtakes! Not everything can make the cut, right? These outtakes will be snippets of things that we cut from the original story during the editing process, but are still important to the overall storyline and may even provide a bit of background information on previously mentioned plots, characters and themes. These outtakes will not be posted on a schedule, but will be released as we see fit. Keep your eyes peeled you won't want to miss these!

SAM POV

AUGUST 2017

“We did it boys…” Danny said, flopping down into the chair in the makeshift greenroom. 

“Finally a fucking week off…what’s it been? Two months?” Jake says, popping the lid off of his beer. 

“Yeah, two months.” you reply, sitting down on the worn leather couch. You were still sweating from your set, your heart still racing and the adrenaline still coursing through your system. The last show of your two month long run across the East. Tonight you’d leave Atlanta and head home for a much needed break.

Luckily tonight the set was just a handful of songs, and you knew them like the back of your hand, in fact, you could probably play them in your sleep. 

“Then what?” Danny asks. 

“Then we start back again, hit the West. Be gone until we come home for Christmas I guess.” Josh replies.

Shit. A week off? That’s it?

Seconds later a man walks through the door and nods, “Good show boys, gotta clear this room for the next act. Make sure one of you sees the bartender for your payout.” he says, and just as quickly he is gone. 

“Damn, really getting the royal treatment.” Josh says. 

“I’ll start loading up, Danny, you want to help me?” Jake asks.

“Yeah, Sam, you got clean up?” he asks.

“Sure.” you agree.

As they all file out of the small room you begin collecting up trash, empty cans and bottles into a grocery bag you found on the table. You had spent all of about two hours in here. How you had amassed such a large amount of garbage was a mystery. 

Once you had all of the trash collected you set it on a table and began moving the chairs and furniture around, repositioning everything how you found it when you got there. You made your way over to your bass, locking it securely into its case, and setting it by the door for Jake and Danny. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you looked up from your duties as you pulled it from your pocket. 

Y/N

10:38pm: Yeah! Classes are going so good! I made some new friends! Miss you! Where are you guys even at?

Of course. You’d asked her that four days ago. Four. 

You shook your head and shoved it back into your pocket snatching the bag of trash off the table to take to the dumpster.

It was hot outside, and the air was so humid you felt like you were practically swimming. If you weren’t already sweating, you were now. The streets were busy with people walking from bar to bar down the bustling strip. 

You walked around to the back of the bar, spotting the dumpster in the alleyway, near where Jake and Danny were loading the van.

As you stepped up to it you noticed, there were actually two dumpsters, one trash, and one recycling. You smiled to yourself and began sorting the trash from the bag in your hand, tossing the cans into the blue dumpster.

As you were about to walk off, a side door opened, and a girl in a pair of black denim overalls stepped out, hauling a black trash can behind her. Her face was covered by a mess of brown curls tied up into a messy bun. You watched her struggle to pull the obviously heavy can towards the dumpster, as she fought with the yellow rubber gloves on her hands. 

“Here, let me help you.” you offered, watching her head snap in your direction. 

She looked up at you, her eyes as big as the moon overhead. “Oh. Oh, sorry. No. It’s okay. I’ve got it. Just full of liquid I think.” she said, dragging it towards you.

“It’s really no big deal…” you offered again, stepping towards her. 

“Just help me drag it over?” she asks. 

You nod, and grab the handle, pulling it to the dumpster with ease. 

“Thanks. How embarrassing.” she said, a blush creeping over her face. A small dimple formed in her cheeks as she tried to stifle the smile on her lips.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m sure that thing is full of half drank beers and glass bottles.” you said, trying to cheer her up. 

“You were playing, a little while ago…” she said, starting to throw bottles into the dumpster.

“Yeah, I was. Did you catch our set?” you asked nervously.

“Yeah, I mean sort of, I was collecting trash but I heard you guys, caught the end for sure.” she answered, a small flutter gliding through your chest. 

“What did you think? Did you… enjoy it?” you asked, completely unsure if you wanted to hear her answer.

Even in the dark light of the alleyway you could see how pretty she was. A tingle in your chest caught you by surprise. You hadn’t felt it in years. 

“Yeah! You guys were alright.” she admits.

“Oh. Yeah, well, this is our last stop for a bit. We are a little burnt out, kinda ready for a break.” you say, trying to seem like it didn’t hurt you just a little. 

A smirk crossed her lips, “I’m Elle. Well, Eleanor, but my friends call me Elle.”

“Are we friends?” you ask playfully.

“I think we could be.” she smiles, hauling the heavy bag out of the can. “This is typically the part where you tell me your name.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, I’m Sam.” you laugh.

“Well Sam, what’s your band called?” she asks. 

Oh god, don’t ask…

You swallow nervously, “Greta Van Fleet?” you answer.

“Is that a question?” she asks.

“No. You’re right. Greta Van Fleet is the name of our band.” You answer confidently.

“Okay Sam of Greta Van Fleet, where do you guys live?” she asks.

“Michigan. Frankenmuth, Michigan.” You say, pointing to your palm. “What about you? You live here?”

“No. I actually live almost two hours from here. I’m just here for the night.” she says.

“Working in a bar?” you ask.

“Well, kind of. The bar owner gives out tickets for shows here if you volunteer to clean up after a show night. Blitzen Trapper will be here next month and I really want to go, so I figured tonight would be just as good as any.” she says.

Wow, a girl with taste.

You smile at her, watching her throw the black trash bag into the dumpster, shaking off her yellow gloves. She removes them and holds them in her fist as she turns back to you. 

“I’m really glad I picked tonight.” she smiles. 

“I’m glad you did too.” you agreed. 

“So, Sam from Greta Van Fle–”

“Sammy! Let’s go!” Jake calls out in the distance. 

Shit.

“You have to go…” she says nodding her head, grabbing the handle to the trash can.

“Yeah, we have…a long drive ahead of us.” You admit.

“A long drive, huh?” she smiles.

“Yeah, maybe I could text you?” you ask, feeling your heart pound out of your chest.

“Are you asking for my number, Sammy?” she says, mocking Jake’s words.

“Yeah, I think I need it.” you reply, probably putting your feelings out there a bit too much.

She smiles and reaches out her hand, as you pull your phone from your pocket. You hand it to her, and watch her type away, her eyes sparkling in the light of your phone. 

“There. I sent myself a message so I’d have yours too.” she says, handing your phone back to you. 

You glance down and a smile sneaks out seeing her name across your screen. Eleanor, with a small white heart.

 “Perfect. I need to go before they leave me here. And yes, they definitely would leave me if you’re wondering.” you laugh.

“Okay, well you better go…I hope I hear from you, Sam of Greta Van Fleet.” she smiles.

“You will, Eleanor of… two hours away from here.” you laugh. 

You put your phone in your pocket and start to walk away, heart racing as your mind tumbles though a thousand different scenarios.

“Sam, wait!” she calls. 

You turn on your heels, looking over your shoulder at your brothers, starting the van. 

“You… you sounded really good. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you all night.” she admits, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

“Really?” you ask, the thought falling from your lips before you could catch it.

She nods, “This is going to sound crazy, I know we just met by a dumpster and I probably reek, but I just…I feel like I want to kiss you.” she says.

“Me?” you ask, completely shocked.

“Yeah…” she smiles, her dimple showing again.

“For the record, Elle, even covered in trash juice, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen in a long time. And I want to kiss you too.” you reply.

You grabbed her hand and pulled her towards you, letting your hand glide up to her chin, as the two of you drifted towards each other, before pressing your lips together. Your hand cupped her face as you felt her soft lips against yours, sending a shock through your body. Her hand rested on your stomach as you kissed her back, slow and soft, if only just this once. 

You pulled away from her, eyes completely blown out with lust, as you removed your hand from her smiling face. 

“I’ll see you Sam…” she said, shoving her gloves into her back pocket, lugging the trash can through the door behind her. 

You stood there as the door shut, mind spinning from the kiss you could still feel on your lips. Who was this woman? What had she done to you?

“Two seconds asshole!” Jake yelled from the driver's seat.

You ran over to the van, sliding in next to Daniel in the back, still thinking of her. You pulled your phone from your pocket and immediately went to her message. 

You

11:13pm: Sam

Should you message her again, or should you wait to hear from her? You wiped your sweaty hands on your jeans, bouncing your leg up and down as you tried to weigh your options. 

“What’s got you all worked up?” Danny asks, scrolling through his phone.

You let out a sigh, “Nothing I just…I just met the coolest girl.”

“A girl?” he asks, looking over to you.

“Yeah, throwing trash in the dumpster.” you smile.

“Romantic…” he smirks.

“It kind of was…” you admit.

“Whatever, might as well forget her. You’ll never see her again.” he laughs.

No. You knew you would. But you couldn’t say that. That sounds crazy. Right?

After a few more minutes of nervously switching between apps on your phone you opened your thread with her, and began to type.

You

11:34pm: Too soon?

Eleanor🤍

11:39pm: What took you so long?

—

From that point on the two of you were practically inseparable, well, not physically. You would spend most of your time talking to her. Texting, calling, anything you could. The more you got to know her the more you realized how similar the two of you were. She told you about her hometown, a place similar to your home. She told you about her family, just her and her dad. She told you about her hopes and dreams and you told her yours. She encouraged you and believed in you, eventually admitting she watched your entire set that night, barely able to drag her eyes away from you. 

Elle was the beacon of light you didn’t know you were looking for. Finding you at a time in life where you felt stagnant. As the tour continued through the fall the two of you grew closer, eventually deciding to see each other again as soon as possible. That time would come around Christmas, when you’d convinced her to come to Frankenmuth. She met your family and your friends, all who welcomed her with open arms. How could they not? 

To say the two of you were nervous would be an understatement, but the moment you saw each other it was like everything clicked into place. All the hours spent talking to each other, learning everything there was to know about each other, all had a meaning. A purpose. 

When summer rolled around she decided to stay for the season, taking a job at a local boutique and crashing with you. You spent your days busy working, and your nights wrapped up in each other. Your life felt like it was finally falling into place. You couldn’t imagine a day without her in it, and frankly you didn’t want to. 

A year later, when the time came to move to Nashville, she decided to move with you, packing up her life in Georgia and moving to what she referred to as ‘the big city’. She had her conditions though, opting for her own apartment a few blocks from your house. Though the two of you spent practically every night together, she felt happy having her own space, and who were you to take that away from her?

You remember that summer, the first time you told her you loved her, sitting in your backyard, watching the fireflies buzz around in the bushes. She watched them in awe, talking about her childhood and chasing them near the lake. You still aren't sure if it was the heat or the alcohol, but the words tumbled from your lips and you made no effort to stop them. You did love her. You think you may have even loved her that first night you kissed her. Through the years it became more and more clear to you that you couldn’t live without her, and maybe you weren’t supposed to. It hadn’t been an easy road but it was one she wanted to travel with you.

—

SEPTEMBER 2020

“Alright guys, let’s take a break. I gotta piss and I need a drink.” Danny said, standing up from his kit.

You slung the strap over your head, setting your bass into the stand before bounding up the stairs after Daniel. It had been a long week practicing nonstop. Tucking yourselves away in the foothills of the mountains, where the fog rolled in around 7pm. You spent days strategizing, writing, even arguing, but making magic nonetheless. 

After a morning spent in the sun shooting visuals for the single release, you promised to lock yourselves inside the basement for the rest of the night, hammering out a few final details for one of the tracks. 

There were pro’s and con’s to not being able to tour. But as of recently, you’d only been seeing the con’s. At least that’s how it felt. You weren’t able to travel at all, and mentally you felt it was taking a bit of a toll on you. You liked to fill your days traveling city to city, and country to country. Truth be told it's all you’d ever really known. So when you were parked in Nashville indefinitely, it brought all of your lives to a screeching halt. 

You sipped a seltzer on the stiff leather couch, placed peculiarly in the living room of the cabin, watching as Josh and Jake argued over the difference between a Hazy IPA and a Juicy IPA, stating ‘not all hazy’s are juicy, and not all juicy’s are hazy’. Regardless they both did the job of numbing your mind to the persistent bickering of your twin brothers.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, causing your eyebrows to raise, seeing as how you hadn’t had proper cell phone reception in nearly two full days. You pulled it from your pocket, and swallowed nervously as you read the name on the screen.

Eleanor🤍

10:25pm: Hey, just wanted to let you know that Dad passed away the day before yesterday. He went peacefully. I held his hand all the way through...hospice was here to make it a little less painful. His funeral is this Friday. 

Eleanor🤍

10:27pm: Sam, I’m not coming back to Nashville. I need some time. I’ve gotta get my feet back on the ground and figure things out. I hope you understand. Thank you for everything you did for me, and for my dad. I know he appreciated you all the way up until the end. Please, don’t respond to this, just know that you were one of the greatest parts of my life. 

You stared at the phone in your hand while the guys continued to talk in the kitchen.  You settled forward with your elbows on your knees as the news hit you. 

You sat there, completely dumbfounded and unable to form a thought. He died two days ago? Why hadn’t she said anything? 

She was completely alone, she was there with him when it happened. She has nobody to lean on. No one to cry to. What does she mean she’s not coming back to you? Is she leaving you? Is it over?

You knew you hadn’t seen Elle in a few weeks; she decided with her dad being so sick, it was best to stay away from each other for a while so as not to bring any unforeseen illness around him. She left you with a kiss and a see you soon, and you believed her. You understood. You agreed. You agreed with the unspoken condition that she would be back. But now?

You dropped your phone to the floor beside you, letting your head fall into your hands.  

“Sam?” Danny said, walking over to your side. Jake and Josh followed closely behind, as they all stood around you. 

“What Sammy boy, you okay?” Jake asked. 

You kicked your phone to his feet, eyes barely catching his movement as he bent down to retrieve it.

“What? What does it say?” Danny urges.

“Fuck.” he says, blowing out a breath, “Elle’s dad died two days ago. She’s not coming back.”

—

LATE JUNE 2021

You never thought you’d find yourself in this position. After Elle left you were a little unsure if you could ever even feel like that for another person again. It took you months to pull yourself out of the depression you were in. Spending night after night wondering where she was, and what she was doing. How she was doing. Texts went unanswered, phone calls straight to voicemail. It was the worst you had felt in your life, and you didn’t know how to snap out of it. 

Throwing yourself into the production aspect of the new album, you nitpicked and critiqued every last detail until you felt it was perfect. Essentially it was. You and Josh would spend nearly every night listening to the album start to finish, picking out things to tweak the following day. Eventually both of you ran out of fixes. Those nights spent with Josh were the most helpful. Letting him talk to you in a way that only he could. Explaining things in the way only he can. Slowly you came around, meeting Daniel for dinner, or Jake for drinks. Going for  a walk through the park with Josh. Every day started to get easier and easier until you woke up one morning and the hurt you were harboring was so small, you couldn’t feel it anymore.

A few weeks later you walked into a bar to meet the guys, and left with the last person you’d ever expected. A person who held a piece of your heart you weren’t sure you’d ever see again. Suddenly though, you took hold of a piece of hers, and you would be damned if you were ever going to let it go. 

Things had changed. She had changed. But she was also the same girl you remember, sitting next to you on your living room floor, pencil behind her ear as she drug her pink highlighter through a history textbook. The girl who slow danced with you at prom to a song that has lived in your head ever since and for the first time in a long time Elle was not a thought in your mind. 

—

You

1:37pm: Hey there sunshine! Question…

Y/N

1:41pm: Hey babe! Yes? 

You

1:41pm: We made plans to go home for the fourth, would you like to go? 

Y/N

1:45pm: Actually, I am already going back! Told my parents a few weeks ago I would be home.

You

1:47pm: Well perfect! We’ll be going to the lake, you’re invited obviously. I’ll let you know what time.

Y/N

1:50pm: You sure that’s okay? 

You

1:51pm: Positive. Get some rest tonight, I’ll see you when we get there.

Y/N

1:52pm: Safe travels!

—

“Moooooom! We’re hoooome!” Josh called through the house as you followed behind, lugging bags and boxes of fireworks. 

“My babies!” she cried as she came bounding towards the door, taking you both in her embrace. 

“I’m so happy you’re all going to be here! How long are you staying?” She asked, taking the bags from your hands. 

“Just a few days, Ma. We’re actually busy touring rockstars, did you forget?” you said, finally able to pull your sunglasses to the top of your head and close the door behind you.

It always felt so good stepping through the front door of your home, no matter how many times you’d done it. The familiar sound of the echoes of your voices bouncing off the walls, the smell of the home itself, and the instant feeling of comfort enveloping you, no matter how long it had been. 

You and Josh had spent most of the evening stocking up for the lake the next day, visiting two or three stores to get plenty of beer and snacks for the long day on the water. 

“Should we get mortars or bottle rockets?” you ask, standing back and looking at all of the choices on the shelves. 

“Uh, fuckin’ both? Whoa, look at this!” Josh replied, picking up a giant box filled with a mixture of a bunch of different fireworks. He was like a kid in a candy store, filling up the basket with tons of boxes while you followed along through the aisles. 

“Think this is enough beer? What is Danny even drinking these days?” Josh asked as you continued perusing. 

“I don’t think he gives a shit as long as it gets him drunk.” You replied as you picked up two cases of seltzers, and some white claw for Y/N. 

Speaking of…

You pulled your phone from your pocket to text Y/N, but instead found a text from a contact that you hadn’t seen in ages. 

Elle? 

Her contact in your phone still had a heart next to it. You couldn’t ever bring yourself to take it off. As you blinked a few times to make sure you were reading right, your heart dropped. It’s been almost a year since she’s contacted you. Since the day of her last text, she hasn’t even so much as sent you an ‘I’m ok’ message. No updates on her social media, nothing. Silence. After you spent weeks messaging her and calling her, you finally got the picture and gave up. So to see her name now on your screen, came as a bit of a shock. Your finger slowly and nervously opened the message. 

Eleanor🤍

5:17pm: Hey Sam, it’s Elle. Not sure if you had my number still saved or not.

Strange. 

You looked up from your phone to find Josh still trying to pick out his alcohol for the weekend. You were blindsided. You didn’t know what to say. Should you text her back at all? You were kind of upset with her for not giving you a good reason for ending things that you spent years building with her. 

You knew she was going through an extremely rough time, but the two of you were serious, you thought at least. You wanted to be there for her, help her through the good and the bad, but she left without even a word. She abandoned a relationship that you thought was growing, right at the time that was going to make or break everything. 

You slid the message closed, and opened your texts with Y/N. 

You

5:21pm: We made it. Stocking up on stuff for tomorrow. Let me know when you get to your parents! 

You

5:22pm: PS…don’t know where we’re going to be able to sneak off to this weekend, but I’m sure we could find somewhere ;) 

Y/N

5:24pm: I’m not far, maybe an hour or so. And I’m sure we’ll be able to find somewhere. You’re telling me you don’t have any old spots you used to take your girlfriends? 

You smiled, thinking back in time. You did have a few spots, but they were kind of, less than comfortable. But Y/N didn’t seem to really care about that kind of thing. You stowed away a few ideas in the back of your head, and urged Josh to hurry it up. 

You

5:36pm: Hmm, I’ve got a few places in mind. See you soon!

The entire ride home, you wracked your brain searching for something to say back to Elle. Should you answer at all? Of course you should. You didn’t want to be rude. She wouldn’t be reaching out for no reason. 

You and Josh unloaded the car, sticking all the alcohol into the fridge for the next day, and packing up snacks in coolers. You knew Josh would want to be out the door first thing in the morning, and packing tonight would let you sleep a tiny bit longer in the morning.

Finally you got the gumption to just do it. You felt anxious for some reason, to even bring up her name on your phone. She held such a special place in your heart for so long, it made your stomach do flips when you thought about texting her back. Y/N would be here early in the morning, so just saying hey to Elle shouldn’t hurt, right?

You brought up her text from earlier, figuring you let it marinate long enough. You plopped down in a chair at the kitchen island, your thumbs flitting over the keyboard as you thought of what to say. 

You

6:48pm: Hey, Elle. Of course I still have your number. How are you?

There, that was easy. Light and simple. You huffed a cleansing breath. The seconds ticked by as you waited for her text bubble to pop up, your heart racing. 

A smile crossed your face at the sight of the tiny gray bubble.There it is. 

Eleanor🤍

6:50pm: I’m okay, just keeping myself busy. How have you been? 

The conversation went on candidly and platonically, just catching up with one another as you brought her up to date on your life, and she with her own. She told you that she was working two jobs, one at a daycare facility, and the other waiting tables at a restaurant in the evenings. She explained how she made great money at both places, and was happy spending most of her days with young children, teaching them and playing with them. 

You

7:18pm: Have you kept up with the band?

Eleanor🤍

7:20pm: Of course I have, you guys seem to really be making it big! Do you have any plans for anything new coming up?

You grinned, she has no idea. 

You

7:21pm: Actually, yeah, we do. It’s in the works now, it’s probably our best work yet, honestly. 

Eleanor🤍

7:23pm: Well, I’m very excited to hear it :)

Your conversation with Elle went on for hours, the two of you talking so easily, just like old times. You asked about her dad, and how everything had gone after he passed. You didn’t want to be too forward, but you also didn’t want to be rude and not ask. She let you know that he’d left her the house and a few other things, which wasn’t much, but he left her comfortable; she really didn’t need to work. 

Eleanor🤍

9:15pm: Any plans for the Fourth?

You

9:16pm: Yeah! We’re actually back home in Michigan right now, gonna head to the lake tomorrow to spend the day drinking way too much and getting sunburned. You?

Eleanor🤍

9:18pm: That sounds like a great time. I’ll be working, but our boss promised to close up before dark so we could all watch fireworks together. I’ll probably just hang out with some friends. 

The question crossed your mind, but slipped away as soon as it came. Should you ask? Is it too forward? You took a swig of the beer you’d allowed to get warm from sitting between your knees. Ah, fuck it. 

You

9:20pm: Sounds fun. No one special in your life to watch fireworks with?

Vague. Basic. 

Eleanor🤍

9:21pm: No, no one special right now.

Your stomach flipped. Why did that make you anxious? You felt a tiny bit of giddiness sneak up. 

Eleanor🤍

9:22pm: What about you? 

Shit. How do you answer this…

You

9:24pm: Nothing serious, no.

That will have to do. You didn’t lie…

You’d retreated to the couch, sprawling out and drifting in and out of sleep as Josh flipped through channels of old movies and spaghetti westerns. About that time you heard the front door open, and Jake’s familiar quiet tone ring out through the house. 

"You made it, huh?" Josh asked, standing up from the chair.

“By the grace of God…” he joked. He walked a little further inside the house, you knew it had been some time since he’d been here. He probably felt strange. 

“This place looks...”

"The exact same? I know, it's weird isn't it?” You said, finishing his sentence. 

"Yeah.” He said, dropping his bag. "Is Mom awake?"

“I think so, I think she's in the basement. Dad is finishing a gig." Josh answers.

You watched as he rounded the corner and descended the stairs, followed by your mom’s hearty half-yell at seeing Jake coming down to greet her. You glanced to Josh, and the two of you shared a wide smile and a chuckle, her voice music to your ears. 

With your brother finally home safe, you let your eyes drift closed, feeling peaceful in your true home, knowing Y/N would be here early in the morning to surprise the family. And that an old flame had decided to reach out once more and say hello.

——

You must’ve gone up to bed at some point during the night, not having much memory due to how tired you were from traveling. You also must’ve fallen asleep with your phone on your pillow, as it’s incessant buzzing woke you from your slumber. You cocked your head and peeped one eye open, seeing four texts from Y/N. You slid your finger across the notification and blinked rapidly to clear your vision. 

Y/N

8:27am: Wakey wakey! I’m heading over in 10.

Y/N

8:32am: Helloooo…Sam..I thought you set an alarm

Y/N

8:39am: Do you want a coffee? I’m stopping

Y/N

8:51am: Fine, no coffee for you. I’m almost there. 

You smiled at her discourse, feeling excited that you got to see her today. You hit the call button, waiting to hear her voice. 

“Good morning starshine! The earth says hello!” She burst out, her voice light and chipper. 

You laughed, the sound of her voice making your heart skip a beat. 

“Okay Willy Wonka, did you get me a coffee or not?” You asked, rolling over onto your back to stretch. 

“No, you didn’t text me back and tell me what you wanted. Sorry.” she said. 

“Geez, how rude. I haven’t seen you in days and I’m not even on your mind?” You relayed. 

“You’re always on my mind, babe. I’m in your driveway, jackass. Come get your coffee.” she quipped. 

You smiled as you hopped up from the bed, unplugged your phone and pulled on some sweatpants. You bounded down the steps to find your dad and Josh in the kitchen. You walked over to the front door, twisted the lock and stepped out onto the front porch. 

She was waltzing down the walkway, drawstring bag hanging from her shoulder, and two coffees in her hands. 

“See, I knew you were thinking of me!” You teased, earning a severe eye roll from her as she shoved it into your hand. 

“I hope you burn your tongue.” she says, cutting her eyes at you.

“Sheesh, already feisty this morning, I like it.” You said in your flirtiest tone as she entered the front door, your hand already attached to her backside before anyone could see. 

You joined your family in the kitchen as your dad made breakfast, talking and laughing and catching up on life. It was so great being at home again, and having her here, it was like you were teenagers again. 

Suddenly you heard the stairs creak, the last person to arise from his slumber. This isn’t gonna be good. You took a short breath as you prepared yourself for his wrath. 

Some light normal conversation. So far so good…But you could feel the tension building in the room as you made eye contact with Josh. His eyes widened, feeling it too. It wasn’t long before you felt the sleeve of your t-shirt being pulled, yanking you to your feet and pulling you to the next room. 

“What the fuck? What is she doing here?” Jake snapped.

“Well, I don't know if you know, but… her parents live ten minutes away. She was born here!” You answered in your most sarcastic tone. 

“Sam…” 

“Jeeze lighten up. She told her parents she would come back for the Fourth a few weeks ago. I invited her to come to the lake with us.” You answered. 

“You invited her to the lake?!” He said, trying not to yell at you. “Sam…”

“What? It will be fine…” you reassured him. 

“So you knew she was going to be here all along?” He asked.

“Mmm, more or less.” You answered. 

“And you just thought…you shouldn’t mention that to me?” he asked.

“Mmm, more or less.” You shrugged him off, no longer trying to entertain his aggravation. 

“You are on my fuckin’ list.” He said. What’s new?

You made your way back to the kitchen, quickly finishing your plate of food. 

“You ready to have some fun today?” You asked her. 

“Sure am! How ‘bout you?” She answered. 

“Hell yeah I am.” You suddenly felt the urge, being close to her again always lit a fire inside you that was extremely hard to extinguish. You leaned in close, bringing your mouth directly to her ear. 

“I’m ready to see your beautiful body soaking wet in a bikini all day. It’ll be hard to not rip it off of you right there on the beach…”

—

Everyone piled into the car one by one, ready to head to the lake. You’d asked Y/N to braid your hair like hers, so you could match. In all honesty, you just wanted her to touch you. It may be innocent, but you didn’t care. It was something. 

“You ready?” She asked, flitting her eyelashes at you. 

“Always ready for you, sweet thing.” The words slipped from your mouth before you could bite them back, knowing that they probably hit Jake in the gut. 

She took all your hair in her hands and began rubbing your scalp, brushing her nails in and lightly and dragging them in tiny circles. Shit. She knew what this did to you, teasing little thing. She pulled your hair backwards into a tight fist, and lightly jerked it back toward her. You hissed through your teeth at the slight pain. 

God damn. What is she trying to do? 

She began lightly massaging again as you felt your whole body envelop in excited tingles. 

“You’d better watch. Your. Fucking. Self.” you murmured quietly, just loud enough for her to hear.  

Your heart was racing; she knew exactly what to do to get you worked up, even if it was as simple as touching your hair. She finished up the braids, tying off the ends as you turned back to her. 

You took her chin in between your fingers, bringing her face close to yours. “God I wish we were alone in this backseat right now…” you said, and you brought her toward you for a sweet and sensual kiss. You couldn’t help yourself. Would it piss Jake off? Probably. But he’ll get over it. 

Just then, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You brought it out to find a message from Elle. You both had fallen asleep mid-conversation last night, so she was following up with an answer to your last question. 

‘Do you think we’ll ever get to see each other again?’ you’d asked her, with the tiniest bit of liquid courage and delirium from being half asleep. Your stomach dropped, seeing that she’d actually responded. 

Eleanor🤍

10:46am: I don’t know, but I really hope so :)

Your heart fell to the floor. Could this be going somewhere again? You had a lot to think about, but you truly missed Elle. There wasn’t a day that passed since the last time you’d seen her that you didn’t think about her. Her gorgeous smile, her wit, her independence…all of it felt like it was ripped away from you when she left. Right as you were falling the hardest for her. A book left unfinished. 

But, what Elle didn’t know, and what Y/N didn’t know, Jake, Daniel, Josh, or anyone but yourself…was that something had begun brewing in your psyche. Your conscience was being pulled again, reminiscent of a fierce and uncharted time in your past. Your entire mind, body, and soul were being beckoned a different direction, straight toward the girl sitting beside you in the backseat. 

But here was Elle. You hadn’t even been talking for a whole day, but you already found yourself being swept up by her charm again. So, you threw yours on, too. She wouldn’t be texting you this much for no good reason, right? What’s the harm… you and Y/N had an agreement, and you were sticking to it, though you found yourself falling for her again, you had to stick to the plan. So you lied. You could never tell her the truth. 

No feelings involved, only keeping each other physically happy for now. Best friends having fun. 

Way too much fun… 

You

10:51am: You really want to see me again?

Eleanor🤍

10:52am: Of course I do. I’ve got a lot of explaining to do…apologies to offer.

There went your stomach turning in on itself again. The giddiness of nerves from finally hearing what you’ve wanted to hear for almost a year. 

You

10:54am: Well. I’d really love to give you the chance to do just that. ;)

—-

The day went on, the heat becoming unbearable as the sun got higher in the sky. You all spent the majority of the day in the water, downing drinks and swimming until your bodies were prunes. The perfect summer day. 

Each time you’d go to grab a drink, you’d check your phone. And each time, you had a text from Elle, every one sweeter than the last. 

When it reached afternoon, Y/N had gone up to sit on the beach and read a book. You snuck peeks of her from underneath your dark sunglasses, sat comfortably on a blanket still dripping with the remnants of the water. Hair a mess, cheeks pink, completely unbothered. You felt yourself staring, biting the insides of your cheeks as you fought hard to conceal what the murky water was hiding in your shorts. After a while, you noticed your can was empty, so you went to take a second to join her. 

“Hey gorgeous. The view of you from the water is absolutely phenomenal. I really didn’t want to leave the water...” you flirted as you laid down beside her. 

“Hmm… what made it phenomenal?” She asked, lowering her sunglasses. 

“I dunno, these ties sit perfectly on your hips…” you said quietly as you tugged at them. “And this top accentuates your curves perfectly…it hardly covers anything at all. You’re barely leaving anything at all to my imagination, baby…” you trailed your fingertips all over her body, ending directly over her core. 

“I’d really love to pull this to the side…do you think they’d notice if we disappeared for a minute?” You felt yourself hardening again in your trunks, turning yourself on just by speaking to her, watching her get worked up from your words. 

“Mmm yes, they’d definitely notice.” She whispered, licking her teeth. 

“Ha…you’re right. It’s too bad…I bet this bathing suit isn’t the only thing that’s wet right now, hmm?” you asked, your lips ghosting her ear. God you wanted her, bad. Right now. But you had to push the thought away. There was still a whole day of fun to be had. 

She glanced to the woods, the car, then back to your brothers still bobbing in the lake. She sighed a heavy sigh, showing that she wanted to sneak off just as badly as you did. Chalk it up as a loss. You pulled a fresh seltzer from the cooler, offering one to her as well. You laughed to yourselves, both feeling the unending pull toward one another, and unable to act upon it. 

You retreated back to the vehicle to check your phone again and have a smoke, you needed to physically separate yourself from her before you went crazy. Plus, you noticed Y/N and Jake had begun to make eyes at one another while you were swimming. Maybe you should give them their space? 

—

As the day was coming to an end, you’d started to feel the alcohol take up shop in your body, a headache creeping its way in. Probably from too much sun, too. You’d had a blast with your brothers and Y/N, only getting a little bit careless with the fireworks. You’d talked to Elle sporadically throughout the busy day, sending cute and flirty texts every single chance you got. You were truly enjoying talking to her again. 

You’d decided to go back home early with Danny to set up a special movie night for everyone, and, honestly, to let Jake and Y/N have a little alone time. You knew they had some things to discuss, and you could tell it was eating at them both leaving things unsaid. Though it hurt you, you knew it had to happen. As much as you wanted her, she could never be yours. 

—

You’d just sat down on the couch when Y/N tumbled in the front door and across the room, immediately positioning herself close to you and draping her freezing cold legs across your lap.

“Fuckin kiss me, Y/N.” You demanded of her to be quick before your brothers made it inside. She grabbed your face, attaching her lips to yours in a quick and heated kiss as your hands dug into her sides. Her tongue buried itself in your mouth, and you let out the tiniest of moans at the contact. You needed to find that spot to sneak off to, and quickly. She detached herself, lust written all over her face. 

Just then, Jake and Josh came in, Jake making his way to the fridge for a beer. You leaned in close to whisper in Y/N’s ear. 

“I need to get you naked as soon as fuckin’ possible, you wanna go shower?” You asked her quietly. She giggled and nodded her head, the alcohol still lingering in her body. 

“I’m gonna go shower, and then we can start?” Jake asked as he popped his beer open. 

“Sounds good, I think we are gonna do the same.” You answered, earning a stern look from Jake. Oops. 

Y/N stood up from the couch. “I’m going to go get my stuff from the car. Be right back.”

Just then your phone buzzed. Another text from Elle. 

Eleanor🤍

11:27pm: Hope you had a great 4th! 

She’d attached a photo of herself posing with exploding fireworks behind her, her face gorgeous and sunkissed and her eyes shut from the bright flash. She had on a giant dark green hoodie that reached way down to her mid thighs. An old hoodie. Your hoodie. 

Your face flushed seeing that she had still kept your favorite high school jacket after all this time, and she looked absolutely gorgeous in it, still. She’d changed a bit, her hair was a little longer, and she seemed to be glowing. You stared at the photo until your screen went dark, taking in every little detail of her.  

“You ready, Sammy?” Y/N’s voice broke you from your gaze. 

“Yep, let’s go.” You responded as you followed her up the stairs, sending one last text before closing the bathroom door. 

You

11:29: Still look perfect in my clothes :)

—-

After some of the hottest quickie bathroom sex you’d ever had, you left Y/N to shower alone, and joined everyone back downstairs in the basement for the movie. 

“Not showering?” Jake asked. 

“Nah, I will later.” You replied as you typed away on your phone, continuing to text Elle. 

“What movie, Sammy? “ he asked as he sat down in his favorite spot on the other end of the couch. 

“The best 4th of July movie there is! The Sandlot!” You replied, not bringing your eyes away from the screen in your hand. You and Elle had started flirting just a bit harder. 

A few minutes later, Y/N came down the stairs, clad in a pair of your sweatpants and one of your old t-shirts. Oh, and Jake’s flannel? But hot damn, she looked sexy. Two women wearing your clothes tonight?!

You grinned to yourself at the thought as she came and sat beside you on the couch, cuddling into your side under a blanket. Her touch was still so electrifying to you, and you suppressed those pesky feelings as much as you could. Just sex. Just sex. 

After a while you stretched out, moving Y/N down the couch toward Jake a bit. You laced your fingers with hers, leaving a hand free to continue texting on the phone buzzing on your lap. 

Eleanor🤍

12:27am: I see you cut your hair!

You

12:29am: I did, do you like it?

Eleanor🤍

12:31am: I do, it’s very fitting :) What are you doing now?

You

12:34am: Sitting on the couch in the basement watching a movie with everyone. Our fourth of July tradition.

Eleanor🤍

12:36am: Oh, the couch, huh? I remember that couch…

Your face flushed in the dark. A memory flooded your mind, right when things had gotten hot and heavy with you and Elle, you’d made it back to Michigan to visit home for a couple of days. After too many drinks and a bowl a piece, you and Elle found yourselves wrapped up in a blanket, still half clothed and her straddling your lap as she rode you. 

“We’ve got to be really quiet, we can’t make any noise.” she said. 

“It’s 4:00am baby, no one is awake…”

You’d unzipped your zipper just enough, freeing yourself from the confines of your shorts to give her some leeway. She’d left her sundress on, and you’d pulled her panties to the side, the both of you covering each others’ mouths and stifling any noise either if you would make as she quietly brought both of you into a bliss you’d been chasing ever since. 

You shook your head quickly to chase the memory away as Jake and Y/N both spoke out loud, “You’re killin’ me, Smalls!” at the same time as the movie did. The two of them laughed together…you watched as she laid her head back on the couch to look at him as they giggled, and it made your heart ache. He looked at her with the same amount of love in his eyes as you did. 

After a while, you noticed Jake had fallen asleep, and Y/N wasn’t far behind. 

Maybe this is a good time to go outside and talk to Elle. 

“I’m gonna go smoke, you wanna?” You whispered to Y/N. 

“Nah, I’m okay, thanks.” You squeezed her hand as you got up from the couch, and dashed up the stairs. 

You

1:12am: You still awake? 

Eleanor🤍

1:13am: I am

You took a deep breath. 

You

1:15am: Would you care if I called you?

Eleanor🤍

1:16am: Wouldn’t care in the least :)

The late night air felt nice on your face as you stepped outside onto the porch, lighting up a joint and pacing the floor. You hadn’t heard her voice in so long…

“Fuck it. Just do it Sam.” You said to yourself. You clicked the phone symbol by her contact, heart racing as you let it ring out. 

“Hey there, stranger.” She answered after a couple rings, voice as sweet as honey, her southern drawl still sending your gut straight into neverland. 

You talked to Elle for almost an hour, catching up even more so on the conversations you’d already had. It felt new, but familiar all the same. The banter was just like it always was, and hearing her laugh again made your stomach fill with butterflies. You weren’t sure if the smile left your face the entire conversation. 

After a while, you noticed her yawns becoming more frequent, and so were yours. You agreed that you’d talk tomorrow, and with a sweet goodnight, you hung up the phone. 

You quietly tiptoed down the steps, trying hard to not wake anyone. The scene you found on the couch hurt your heart and filled it at the same time, Jake and Y/N cuddled together, her head resting gently on his shoulder with his arms holding her close as they slept. 

You couldn’t help the smile that crept its way to your face. You know exactly how good that position feels. You grabbed your camera from the table and you snapped a sweet picture of them laying together, wondering if they would ever find themselves there together again. 

—

The next morning you woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking, always your favorite part about home. You thought back to last night, and your conversation with Elle. You heart swelled at the thought of her. Talking to her, seeing her, touching her. 

Shit. You forgot you’d left Y/N on the couch last night. You wondered if she woke up pissed. You threw on some shorts and climbed down the stairs, greeting your family as you glanced around the room. No Y/N. You walked over to the front door and her car was gone. She had left without even saying goodbye. 

—

You’d made it back home to Nashville, feeling strange that Y/N had left without even a word. You decided maybe she needed some space, seeing as how she probably woke up cuddling Jake that morning, and found herself in a strange predicament. You told yourself you reach out, soon. You knew she liked to disappear sometimes. 

Things with Elle had only gotten better; you’d begun every day with a goodmorning text, and your conversations had only become more intense. You were truly enjoying talking with her, so you decided you’d call her at least once a day, just to hear her voice.

When tour started you found yourself wishing Elle was there. Sure you had Y/N, your best friend and lover around but it was different. You knew Y/N wasn’t yours to keep. As you and Elle began to talk more frequently you found yourself pulling away from Y/N a bit, but when photos were exchanged backstage in Nashville, you found yourself being drawn to her once again and spending the night wrapped up in each other like usual. It felt so different with her. So intimate. Was it because you were denying your real feelings for her? Did she feel it too?

You felt like your heart was being pulled in two different directions. Elle and Y/N, the two most important women in your life were now silently competing for your affection. However, it was not lost on you that Y/N was also gravitating towards Jake, whether she noticed it or not. The thing about all of it though, was that you knew Jake. You knew Jake better than he thought you did. You could see that it was killing him to watch you with Y/N, especially after what happened back home. 

You could sense a shift between the two of them. Something was there. Something was growing, and maybe, by removing yourself from the situation slowly, you would make room for that thing to reach its full potential. Even if it killed you.  

—

LATE AUGUST 2021

BRIDGEPORT, CT

Eleanor🤍

7:16pm: Just landed.

You

7:18am: We are finishing up at dinner. If you go to the front desk at the hotel, I left a key for you in your name.

Eleanor🤍

7:16pm: Thanks babe

Your heart was pounding as the minutes ticked closer and closer to finally seeing her again. You just had to make it through this dinner. Y/N was sufficiently drunk, finally letting loose after her altercation with Josh in the lobby this afternoon. You felt terrible, you were so caught up coordinating with Elle that you weren’t there to defend her. Luckily, Jake saved the day. 

You watched as Y/N flirted with Jake, and you found yourself smiling finally seeing his smile, after a few weeks of sadness. You thought you’d feel jealous, watching him grab her hand and whisper in her ear, but you didn’t. The only thing on your mind was the curly haired brunette waiting for you in your hotel room. 

You swallowed nervously as Danny made the first motion to leave. You quickly stood and joined him as the rest of the table arose from their seats. Y/N was a little wobbly on her feet, but again, Jake stepped in and helped her find her footing. 

Your heart was racing as you made the walk back to the hotel, chatting with Y/N as she stumbled along beside you. After a few minutes you noticed she was gone, looking over your shoulder to see her walking next to Jake as he smiled. It felt good to see the two of them where you knew they were always destined to be. 

As you stepped into the hotel you knew that in less than five minutes you would be face to face, reunited with the girl that broke your heart. The girl who was here now, all this time later, to ask for another chance, and you would be an absolute fool to not give it to her.

Offering to take Y/N to her room, you were immediately shut down by Jake. You could have called that from a mile away. You sent him a knowing look and stepped out on your floor. You ran your sweaty hands over your pants and ran your fingers through your hair. You took a deep breath and tried to center yourself, as you tapped the key card to the door. 

You pushed the door open, your hands shaking so badly you shoved them in your pockets to try and conceal them. As you stepped into the room, you saw her, sitting cross legged on the bed, flipping through the TV channels. 

“Elle…” you breathed.

“Hi Sammy...”

You felt like all the air had been ripped away from your lungs, the sight of her here again feeling like a dream. She was just the same as the last time you saw her, except she had more of a glow to her, her hair was longer and her body was healthy. The last time you saw her she was in the midst of true grief, working like a maniac to take care of her dad and keep a job at the same time. But here she was now, blossomed and flourishing, and she seemed to only have eyes for you. 

In true Elle fashion, she quickly leapt up from the bed, and floated through the air to stand right in front of you, eyes zipping back and forth as she searched your face; clearly she didn’t believe you were real, either. You stood frozen in place, unable to get over the fact that she was physically here, making your head spin and hands shake. Sammy, the nerves…it’s okay. 

“Well are you gonna hug me like you know me? Or ya just gonna stand there like a bump on a log?” She said through the prettiest smile you were sure you’d ever seen. You felt a rush of pure adoration swell in your stomach, the sound of her voice even more like sweet honey than on the phone. God, you’d forgotten. 

You bent at the knees, taking your hands from your pockets and wrapping them low around her waist, lifting her into the air in a tight embrace while you spun her around the hotel room. Her laugh, like coming home to your favorite place on earth. The way her body felt, the way her hair tickled the backs of your arms as you twirled her... all of it hitting your senses one by one, and making you weaker by the second. 

Finally you put her down, letting her rebalance as you found her face again. For some reason, you felt your emotions tugging at you. 

“Are you really here? Or is this a fever dream?” You asked her as the two of you slowly made your way over to sit on the edge of the bed. 

She laughed hard. “I’m really here, Sammy.” Her hand found your cheek, her thumb brushing under your eye as she tenderly walked you through your realization. 

“How are you?” She finally asked, bringing her legs to sit comfortably on the bed, and muting the TV. “How have you been? I know we talk everyday but…” her face blushed red. 

The conversation flowed just like it always had, just like as you texted, just like it did on the phone. Except this time you could see the expressions on her face when she moved her mouth that certain way, her lower lip pulling down slightly to the left when she was explaining something. The freckles across her nose, her squeak laugh when you’d gently pick on her. Still full of enthusiasm, still as smart and quick-witted as ever. And you were drowning in her eyes. 

Your favorite, though, was how good of a listener she was. She knew how to respond and empathize, and she didn’t even know she was doing it. You laid there and talked for hours, laughing and arguing and loving every single minute of it. Elle was like an enigmatic force, a warm presence that was unfaltering, picking up right where you left off. She felt like the first sip of cinnamon whiskey, shocking and surprising with a slow burn that you couldn’t help but get addicted to. 

“…I guess I’m just really sorry I left you without an explanation, Sam.”

“We don’t have to talk about this now, it’s okay…” you interrupted. 

“No, we do. I’ve wanted to apologize to you for almost a year, but I wanted to do it in person. You deserve to hear that straight from me.” She went on. You nodded, reluctantly. 

“I was in an extremely weird and bad place back then, with my dad and everything. I was a shell of a person and not myself. I don’t even remember half of that time, you know? It’s like a blacked out blur…I thought I needed to separate myself from you to not bring you down, and the band, but…” you took her hand, locking your fingers with hers. It had been months…you could tell, something as simple as that brought her a little bit of peace. You were both lying on your stomachs across the bed, shoulder to shoulder as you talked. 

“I know now that you were trying to hold me up above water, doing what you do best…keeping everyone happy, Sam. You always have. And I turned you away. The brightest light I’ve ever had in my life, I shut you off. And I’m sorry. I’ll never be able to take that back. You didn’t deserve that. I should’ve reached out again.” You could tell tears were prickling her eyes as she spoke. 

“S’okay, Elle…” you whispered, leaning your head on her shoulder. 

“No, it wasn’t okay. We were…getting pretty serious. I think.” 

Yeah, you were very serious.  

“And I just…stopped it all. For no good reason except my own selfishness. And I’m so, so sorry, Sammy. I really am. I regret leaving the only man I’ve ever felt like this for.”

Your stomach plummeted. Still? Felt like this?

You knew the expression on your face turned to pure happiness at her words. 

“You…you still���?” Was all you could manage through broken breaths. 

“Of course I still love you, you idiot. I never stopped.” She said, punching you in the shoulder. You melted. Wow…she still…

“Do you think I would’ve kept up conversation with you for weeks and come all the way out here if I didn’t?” She asked, her last word hanging on a high note. 

That’s true…

“Elle, you are…” You couldn’t stop yourself, she was pulling you in. You brought your lips dangerously close to hers, letting just the tips of your noses touch as you let your lips brush hers. The electricity buzzing between you, her eyelashes fluttering across your cheeks. The warmth was immediately there, filling the space between you with a heat that you’d forgotten about. 

“I am…what, Sammy?” She whispered, her breath hot on your lips. You could taste her already, so you moved your tongue to sit on your lower lip, savoring every single second that you could. 

You brought your forehead to hers, letting it balance there while you caught your breath. 

“Perfect.” You breathed, the word falling from your mouth as you let your lips connect with hers, so simply and so sweetly. Just like you always remembered. Just one tiny kiss to reintroduce yourselves; she’d only been back for half a day. But it felt right, and real, and she truly was perfect, she always was. 

When you separated, you left your forehead connected to hers, as you let that lustful and heavy excited feeling settle in the pit of your stomach, taking up shop and re-rooting itself where it belonged. 

It was then you knew that she was back for a reason, and you’d be damned if you let her slip away again. 

——

That night, you slept platonically in the king-sized bed, sharing room service and a few beers while you reminisced, her getting sleepy and cozy while you twisted your fingers through her hair. You didn’t want to move too fast, though you could tell the heat was rising in her face, too. The way she looked at you…you recognized it. Nearly three years of her being your everything…of course you were still able to pick up on all her cues. You held back in acting on them, though, as difficult as it was, you wanted to still be a gentleman. 

And getting to know her again? Like re-reading your favorite novel…remembering the details that stuck out to you while reciting the sentences you’d memorized. Re-learning and recalling her mannerisms, laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe, and sharing so many tender moments you felt like putty in her hands. God, you couldn’t believe she was back. 

——

The second night of Bridgeport, and you finally had someone in the audience that you could play to. You had to admit, you were a little nervous. Anxious for her to see you play again, but excited all the same. You had a few more nerves in your system tonight, so you shook them away with an extra seltzer. 

The show was going well, until suddenly your bass cut out. Fuck. You glanced to Jake quickly, signaling him to distract. He did, thankfully, as you rushed to the keys to play the bassline there. When your tech returned, all was fixed and well, but you were humiliated. For some reason whenever something like that happened, you couldn’t help but get upset. It was the producer in you, you assumed. And Elle saw. Your first show playing with her watching again, and that just had to happen. Of fucking course. 

You finished out the show, hastily making it back stage to change quickly and get back to your hotel room. It had put you in a sour mood. You all loaded up in the van, and you shot a quick text to Elle saying you’d meet her back at the room shortly. 

“You guys wanna grab a drink at the bar when we get back?” Daniel asked. 

“No, I think I’m going to bed.” You answered curtly. 

You felt Jake’s eyes shoot you a look of confusion. You shrugged. 

“I could do one, then I think I’m gonna hit the sack myself. It’s been a long fucking day.” He answered. 

“One. We leave early in the morning.” Josh said. 

Daniel sighed. “Alright. It’s settled.”

——

When you finally made it back to the room, you felt strange at the still-lingering feeling of embarrassment from the mess up during the show. You set your bag down on the couch, peering around the corner for the sweet girl waiting for you. 

“Sammy! Oh my god!” She yelped, pouncing into your arms as you caught her, her legs immediately wrapped around your waist. “You were so amazing! Better than ever, holy shit!” She was going on and on, her arms wrapped around your neck as you found a smile creeping up, almost completely dissolving your yucky feeling. 

You turned, still holding her, and sat on the bed so she was now on your lap. Hello there. “I can’t believe how good you all sound, and the crowd? It was so good, Sam.” She went on, truly still on her high after seeing a good show. 

“Thank you, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “You’re too kind…even if the very first show you saw, my bass fucked up.” You let your head fall to her shoulder. 

“What? Oh yeah, you saved the day when you ran to your keys. Excellent job of thinking on your toes, babe.” She said, brushing it off. 

Babe. 

Ah, fuck. 

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” You asked before you could even stop yourself, an exhilarated feeling enveloping you. 

She sat back on your lap, arms still linked at your neck. 

She smiled hard. “Yeah, yes. I do…let’s go.” 

Be a gentleman, Sam…

——

You laid down in bed that night with Elle a bit closer than the night before, still facing each other and talking closely after your shower. Bodies hot and naked, finally feeling comfortable enough to be that way in front of each other again. 

“I’m really glad you’re here, Elle. I’m so happy you came, really.” You said as she traced your features with her fingertip. 

“Me too, Sammy. The timing was finally right…” she said. 

“Yeah, finally…” suddenly your mind shot back to Y/N for a split second. You knew that things with her and Jake had been rocky lately, but you’d also been kind of giving her the cold shoulder. You felt awful for ignoring her, but, if she only knew why…

You drifted off with Elle in your arms, completely enjoying the feeling of her on you again, fully and totally. She turned over, letting you wrap your arms around her from behind. Your perfect girl, sweet and mellow, and all yours. 

——

You woke up in the middle of the night, unsure of what startled you awake except for that late-night overwhelming draw to the woman cuddled into your body, still unclothed and gorgeous. Fuck, Elle. Gentleman is about to fly out the window, girl. 

It started slowly, you taking your fingertips and brushing them lightly up and down her side as you kissed the back of her neck gently. You moved to her ear, lightly nibbling at the shell of it as you blew cool air. She began to stir a little bit, waking up at the feeling of your touch on her. 

You felt her press her ass back into you, letting you know that she was aware of your intentions. And lord, were you ever intending. You let your hand keep tickling her, moving to her front, her stomach, her thighs…you felt her shudder against you and chill bumps rise on her skin. 

Then she turned, bringing herself to face you in the pale light of the room, arm draped across your neck. Her hand found your hair, wrapping it up in her hand as she met your eyes, sleepy yet blown out with want for you, and you for her. Both of your chests were heaving as your hands began exploring, new territory that had lied so many years claimed by you, now ready to be retaken. 

You could take it anymore, you snapped your head forward, connecting your lips in a heated kiss that she returned, finally allowing yourselves to taste each other after all this time. She is so sweet. Still, so delicious…

Next you felt her drag her nails lightly down your chest, your stomach…both of you fighting for dominance as you kissed, hard and sloppy and messy, completely falling into each other now. Her hand was dangerously close to you, you could feel yourself pulsing and growing more excited, yearning for her to touch you. 

You took the opportunity to grab her ass, making her hum into your mouth as she pulled her leg higher over your hip, giving you access to move a little more closely to her heat. Damn, this is moving quickly... Keep it together, Sam. Remember what she likes…

You let your hand crawl from her ass to between her legs, holding back just a little bit, though her body language signified she wanted nothing more. 

“Mmm?” You hummed. 

“Mmhmm..” she responded. 

With pleasure, Eleanor.

You let your fingers slip between her, feeling her wetness for the first time again. She was squirming now, as you wasted no time in going straight for her sweet spots, the memories of them coming back full circle. Her hand wrapped in your hair harder as she kissed you, her leg traveling higher as she began to fall into her pleasure-ridden high. Her sounds were filling your ears, spurring you on to keep going, keep touching, keep feeling…

As if your heart wasn’t pounding enough already, you felt her hand snake between you, fully gripping you firmly in her grasp. You broke from her kiss for the first time. 

“God, Elle…” you laughed, tilting your head back as she began lightly pumping up and down on you, her mouth connecting to your neck as she did so. Your mind was already in a frenzy, and you hadn’t even fully felt her yet. 

You continued like this for a while, going slowly but moving so fast at the same time. Her kiss was full of steam and wild passion, meeting you for eye contact every few seconds. Shit, you’d forgotten she liked to do that. 

Focus focus focus. 

“Sam,” she finally breathed. “I…I want you. Please…”

Fucking finally. 

“Mmm, yeah? You do?” You answered, also falling into your persona of your natural love-making state. 

She nodded harshly. “Yes. Yeah, come on…” she rolled to her back and motioned with her hands for you to climb on top of her. So, you did. 

The two of you were already sweaty from just fooling around; it was evident that she wanted this just as much as you did. Heart still pounding in your ears, you pushed her legs apart with your knee as you hovered above her, looking directly into her eyes as you lined yourself up. You took yourself in your hand, dipping it low between her folds to pick up her wetness before you took the plunge, sending her back into an arch already. 

She was driving you insane already…just the feeling of her…

Her fingertips were already digging into your back, pulling you closer as she spread her legs a bit wider, letting your hips gain a bit more space. 

“Please, Sam…” she mumbled into your ear. Finally, you lost all control as you slowly entered her, letting yourself go as slowly as possible. Her breath hitched, and yours did too as you filled her, centimeter by centimeter until you couldn’t go any further. It was like your whole body had suddenly caught fire, no more breath in your lungs, no more thoughts in your head. Just her…and you inside her.

“God dammit baby, you feel so fucking…” she could hardly finish her words, but you felt the same. You withdrew a little, pulling out slowly just like you had before. You continued this for a few strokes, letting yourselves get reacquainted with feeling each other again. You picked up the pace a little, setting yourself up to hopefully last long enough to make it count. But god, she felt like heaven on earth…

She brought her legs up higher, her knees beside your shoulders as you went deeper, her head falling backwards into the pillow as you fucked her faster now…her hand reached back, grabbing onto the edge of the mattress to hold herself in place. Her other hand raked up and down your back, grabbed your pecs and pulled your hair back tightly. 

“…feel so good baby…just like I remembered…so sweet and good for me…” you murmured out, your voice barely able to be recognized. You could feel her tensing around you as she lifted up on her elbows, bringing her face closer to yours. She started rolling her hips up as you did, meeting your thrusts exactly on time. Fuck, keep doing that. 

“…so pretty Sammy, you’re doing so good, I’m so…” her mouth fell slack as her head fell back, revealing her throat to you. Your mouth connected to it, your tongue wanting to devour her right here on the bed. In a quick decision moment, you sat up on your knees, pulling her hips closer to you as you hooked her legs around you. You brought your hands behind her back, bringing her up to sit on your lap, straddling you as she sat. You never once disconnected, still buried deep inside her. 

Here, you were face to face, mouth to mouth, and at an impossibly intense angle so that she could roll her hips just how she liked. The intimacy was mind blowing, her hands entangled in your hair, the view of her flawless body…all of it. You were completely blissed out. She’s so perfect…

Together, the two of you reached your peaks, grabbing and holding on to each other as you spun out of control, you jutted your hips up into her as far as you could, kissing her deeply as she screamed into your mouth. “Fuckkkk baby…” 

As you both began to come down, you laughed at yourselves and what you’d just done, feeling comfortable again in her atmosphere, and also feeling as connected with her as ever. 

“I waited almost a whole year to do that again, Elle. You don’t understand how badly…” she cut you off with a kiss, lying you down next to her back on the bed, bringing the covers up to surround yourselves again. 

“Shhh, I know. Me too, babe. I’m so sorry I didn’t come back sooner.” She reassured you. 

“Elle, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask you if you wanted me to wear a…ya know.” You blurted out. 

She laughed. “It’s okay, I’m safe. And I’m also on birth control, so. No worries.”

No, no worries at all. Not a single worry you could think of. 

“Okay, me too.” You said. “Well, I’m safe, not on birth control. I don’t think.” You teased.

She burst out in her deep belly laugh, rolling back over to kiss your cheek. “You’re an idiot, Sam.”

You smiled hard. “I know.” You rolled to your side to face her, too, taking her face in your hands. 

“Elle?”

“Yes…?”

You locked into her eyes, smiling softly as you planted a soft kiss directly to her still swollen and pink lips. You pulled back slowly, confidence surging through your body. 

“I never stopped loving you, either.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

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[dasenergi-diary]

I have been back for a week now, from the silent meditation retreat I went on in August.

As always, you come back from these retreats as a changed person. I am not the same person as I was in July.

Oddly, there is not a lot I want to share about this retreat. But there are a few things I want to say.

First, the things I loved:

I love being in noble silence.

I love being in the mountains.

I love that food was provided for me, and I didn't need to want for anything.

I loved watching and listening to the birds and all of the other animals I saw.

I love hiking in the middle of nowhere and not seeing another soul.

I loved doing yoga every night under the stars, and afterwards just laying there watching the night sky.

I love meditation. My two favorite mediations, the first meditation of the day at 6am and the last meditation of the day at 9pm.

Usually when I come home from these retreats, I try to continue my practice. Meditating every day and eating healthier, etc.

But not this time.

Whereas everything about this retreat was just like every retreat I have ever been on, one thing was distinctly different — the teacher and the type of meditation she taught.

She was born into Buddhism in a Buddhist country. It is all she has known, often living in Buddhist monasteries.

In the United States most people gravitate to Buddhism after experiencing some hardship, looking for freedom from suffering. Most Buddhist practitioners in the United States want actionable teachings. Tangible things we can do, to be free from suffering. Tell us what to do, and we will do it.

Whereas my teacher doesn't teach us to do anything. “Do nothing. Just be aware. Observe what is happening right now. Be curious.”

“If you brush your teeth with your right hand, what is your left hand doing?”

I spent several days just watching my mind thinking…

"The mind is not you, it is a process happening all by itself."

The #1 thing my mind does? It makes plans. It's always planning. It plans things to do. It also plans conversations that I might have some day. It fantasizes about things that might happen, and plans what I would do, how I would react.

As my thinking mind was sensory deprived while on the retreat (no reading, no writing, no talking, etc.) it's favorite activity was counting. It wasn't counting anything in particular. It just likes to count 1-2-3-4-5…

Whenever I caught my mind counting, I stopped and checked all six sense doors:

What can I hear?

What can I see?

What can I smell?

What can I taste?

What can I feel?

How is my mind?

I used the counting as a reminder to be in the present moment and "pay attention to what I can be aware of in the present moment." And then I would usually follow that up with, "And what else?"

Don't meditate. Just be relaxed. Be aware. THAT is meditation.

A lot of people at the retreat had a problem with this style of "meditation". They wanted something to focus on. A mantra. A task to do / perform. Loving-kindness / metta meditation. Forgiveness meditation. Something other than doing nothing.

What dawned on me was that after 20+ years of meditation, this "style of meditation" accurately described my daily practice. I just didn't have a name for it or a way to describe it until now. I don't sit daily anymore, because I am always in a constant state of mindfulness… Being aware.

When I swim I am meditating. When I am fixing dinner I am meditating. When I am mowing the lawn I am meditating. When I am doing the dishes I am meditating. When I fall asleep at night I am meditating.

"Don't meditate with expectations. Let go of goals and simply observe what is happening right now."

"Don't be eager for results. Let things happen naturally."

"If you are tense, the mind cannot see clearly. Be relaxed and aware."

"Be here right now."

"Meditation is not just about sitting. It's about how you live your life."

[prismaticpichu]

A genuine favorite of mine: Sane Sephiroth gets a wing and the main inconvenience is that it reacts to his EMOTIONS. He's trying to be cool but he's nervous and it SHOWS that. Stuff like that! What's your take on poor Sephiroth who can't hide his emotions?

Oooooh oooh oooh oooooooooooh!!! That is SUCH an adorable premise 😭 And man can I see poor “lock those feelings up tight” Sephiroth having some trouble! If y’all haven’t plz go read One-Winged Feathers are EVERYWHERE by the amazing Holly you see here!! The story follows CC-era Seph sprouting his wing and like the title suggests shenanigans sure do ensue and ahhhhh it is such a cute ride!! Anywho back to the show.

🪶 🪶 🪶

Unlike his emotionally-barren, insane, pyromanic bipolar half, CC-Sephiroth has a lot of emotions swimming around in that heart of his. Sure his overall toughness (and swagger) isn’t a facade—this guy IS strong as heck. But at the same time… he is also squishy. He can be vulnerable, just like any other person out there. He can get overwhelmed. And the only reason people don’t see this is because he is stellar at, as corny as it is, bottling those jello-like feelings inside.

So! What happens when you make those emotions into a transparent window case for the world to see…?

First off, Sephiroth can’t figure out how to put the darn thing away. He tries desperately to find a way to tuck it in—to furl it, or fold it, or SOMETHING—but all his efforts are in vain (and ends up tripping over the couch + keeling over three lamps in this endeavor). It’s also through this first encounter that Sephiroth realizes just how intertwined his emotions are with his wing. The more his panic rose, the more his wing stiffened and beat and thrashed.

And this realization terrifies him.

The remainder of the day is spent at his place, trying to train the wing like a mischievous pet to NOT mimic his emotions. He tries deep-breathing, relaxing himself into a calm, steady rhythm, until his wing is able to slacken…….only for the telephone to ring and for the black pinion to jolt out of complete and utter fright (knocking over a replacement lamp in the process). He tries physically scolding it like some kinda mantra—“I am not anxious, I am NOT anxious”—only for the wing to still quiver in complete defiance. Poor thing. He eventually surrenders, slumping against the wall with his face in his hands. And the wing sags like a wilted plant right beside him.

It isn’t long until Genesis & Angeal (once the, y’know, initial shock passes upon finding him) catch onto the wing’s transparency. And this, this right here, leads to a whole lotta denial in the coming days as Sephiroth continues to not know how to retract properly. They constantly catch sight of the thing quivering, or sagging, or going completely stiff, and always end up approaching Sephiroth afterwards. Sephiroth can’t even believe how ineffective his stone-hard, ay-okay face has become. It’s practically useless. Useless. Genesis & Angeal are always able to know when messages from Hojo were sent to him (annoyed twitching), or when new press conferences were scheduled (quivering), or that one time when he overheard one of the cadets talking about the “M” word (somber wilting). It’s exposing. It’s weak. It’s unbecoming. It’s…

Cathartic.

One thing that Sephiroth can’t deny is the weight that lifts from his chest after talking about these triggering burdens. Without any way to conceal them, without any way to deny them, his two buddies always manage to chip the answer out of him. And… and… it’s not bad, being able to confide those things. Not at all. It’s healing, for Angeal to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, or to hear Genesis say he would throw Hojo in an industrial shredder on his behalf. So healing that he begins to wonder why he would let those burdens plague him alone.

Eventually, Sephiroth manages to guide the wing back into his shoulder. But just like the stray feathers that lingered behind, a new lesson remains with the raven-esque SOLDIER. He doesn’t need the wing to quiver for him to confide in his friends. He doesn’t need to grit his teeth and bite out “fine” for every “are you okay?” thrown at him. He knows better now. Why it took for a flipping bird wing to burst from his shoulder to learn this, Shiva only knows.

…

…

…

Of course, on the occasion that the wing DOES come out, it’s still not any less emotionally-tangled than before.

Genesis has recorded the wing:

• Swaddling Sephiroth

• Joyously vibrating

• And he’s pretty sure the thing slapped him on its own accord when he called him a woman

[elswing]

thinking about my blorbos (the entire subculture of the telerin elves) again. does anyone happen to have any thoughts or headcanons on what they wear as swimwear? in my head different elven cultures have varying opinions on what's considered scandalous and some who are generally more "conservative" than others (i've seen a few people write about the noldor loving hair and considering touching it to be very intimate, for example, which i LOVEEEEEEE) and i like to think because most of their traditions and day-to-day life is spent near the ocean or swimming in it that they're a lot less bothered by nudity, but i'm not sure being naked would be practical all the time

i've tried to look up what people in our world used to wear before what we recognise as the swimsuit was invented, but all i could find involved veeeery heavy, uncomfortable garments meant to conceal women's bodies at all cost (and in some cases the men just went full commando) which doesn't match my thought process at all. as far as i can tell, there aren't a lot of fabrics that could mimic what we use in their time period and what they used as undergarments wouldn't be suitable in the water at all. if anyone has any thoughts PLEASE let me know i spend way too much time being bothered by this already

[elliemarchetti]

Enchanted to Meet You

Hello @corcracrow, your Secret Santa here! I know I haven't filled you with questions as I would’ve liked, and you probably have the feeling of not knowing me that well, but unfortunately real life has hit hard both on my creative process and my free time. Anyway, I don’t want to spoil the mood for I'm very happy to reveal myself and I hope you likethe first chapter of the fic I have prepared for this year’s @acotargiftexchange

Plot: The Archeron sisters are prominent members of the Upper East Side, as are the Vanserras. Elain is fresh out of a disappointing relationship, while Lucien is the neglected seventh child of a couple who haven’t loved each other for a long time. Will they be able, after a chance meeting at a Christmas party, to build something they could cherish or will gossips and meddling families stifle the budding interest they feel for each other?

Words: 2241

Elain looked around, a glass of champagne held firmly in her right hand. The celebrations were going well, Feyre was having fun, laughing at a joke delivered by her new boyfriend, while Nesta twirled on the dancefloor like a ballerina in a music box, barely noticing her partner. It was the second Christmas party they attended this year, but since their business was booming, she guessed it wouldn’t be the last. At least the host picked some quality wine, a competent catering and classy live music. All the participants belonged only to the best families of the Upper East Side although, and she suspected not by mere coincidence, the Nolans were missing from the guest list. Some had already begun to whisper ill-will about their absence, but since the event was being held on one of Rhysand’s properties, Elain had the privilege to screen out those who were no longer welcome in her vicinity. She was aware she shouldn’t have been so naïve, a marriage proposal so hasty and at such a young age could only come from the heart when net worths like theirs weren’t at stake, but since she still struggled to figure out what to do with her feelings about it, she thought it wiser to let those social climbers stay in the dark place they called home.

Graysen had defined the architecture of his house as designer modern brutalism, but Elain, for the short time she had spent within its walls, had thought it nothing more than a luxurious prison. There were few windows, practically no natural sunlight, it didn’t have a balcony, a veranda, or even a garden, and although the underground swimming pool and spa had done their duty when she needed to relax, everything, including the obsessive order kept in the rooms by a bevy of maids she had never met, appeared fake. Like the love of its heir, after all, like the glittering gifts of his mother. There was no sentiment in everything they did, and since nothing was more distant from the teachings of her father, Elain had decreed that what happened before it was too late was for the best. Not that she would’ve completely ruled out the idea of a divorce if she found out after she married him that Graysen had joined their families only for financial benefit, but it was a nuisance she preferred to avoid, just like the fast-approaching gossips.

Luckily, someone was ready to save her, or so it seemed from the twinkle in the russet eye she met.

She knew Lucien Vanserra only by name, but his story was almost legendary and the reason most rich parents won’t let their kids go to public schools anymore, even if they were renowned and the courses were the best in the US: coveted heartthrob while still in college, a young professor not in her right mind developed a crush on his socially anxious best friend. When he’d rightly rejected her, she had decided to disfigure him with a kitchen knife. Lucien had been quick to push his mate away from the blade, but had been hit in turn, losing his eye and, despite countless surgeries, finding half his face permanently disfigured by a deep white scar, in stark contrast with his amber skin.

“I wanted to wait for some mutual acquaintance to do the honors, but given the situation it seemed like an appropriate time to come and introduce myself,” he said by a way of greeting, extending a manicured hand. The sleeve of his green jacket ran up a little, showing off a probably priceless watch, matched with the eccentric gold prosthetic with which he had replaced the missing eye.

 “We’ve really lost our manners these days,” Elain joked, offering him a firm shake. It was her mother who told her, before she died all those years ago, that a weak hand was a sign of a weaker character, and after the misunderstanding with the Nolans, she was determined to convey confidence in every detail of her being. That was why she had chosen the dress she was wearing, with a neckline not too exaggerated but not even as chaste as she would’ve once preferred, the skirt narrower on the hips, where previously would’ve been tulle and wide pleats.

“Who do you think is the rudest?” Lucien asked, scanning the people by the bar. Being caught red handed, those who had distracted themselves from their conversations to glance curiously in their direction suddenly turned back to their interlocutors, making Elain smile bitterly. She could already imagine what they would say about them at the next brunch they were going to attend, she could already hear them referring to Lucien as the Beast to Elain’s Beauty regardless of the fact he was extremely charming, his disability just a means to spout malice.

“After careful consideration, I think Keir wins the prize,” Elain admitted, glaring at a blond-haired man who was displaying his voluptuous daughter like a beast at the farmers market to a group of older guests. The young woman seemed incredibly uncomfortable but didn’t leave her father’s side until a scary guy, all cradled in black, asked her to dance.

“He has been trying for nearly a year to convince my father that she and my brother would be a good match, but I think Eris’s interest lies elsewhere,” Lucien replied, nodding at Nesta’s current dance partner. His hair was a little more orange than Lucien’s, way shorter but still long enough to be tied at his nape, and although his skin was lighter, the resemblance was uncanny despite the age difference.

“She’s a though nut to crack,” Elain warned him, wondering if at least this bachelor would last a few months with her. The previous suitor didn’t get to the end of the third, retreating in his chase because of her cold and detached attitude.

“Who knows, they might have found each other, then,” Lucien muttered, drawing a surprised laugh from Elain. She was happy not to be an only child, but sometimes being three sisters and with such different characters was a real challenge. She couldn’t imagine how Lucien managed to get along with everyone in his large family, although, being the seventh, it probably meant nobody paid him much attention.

“Are you as difficult as him?” she asked, once the silence stretched for a little too long. She was enjoying their conversation, the ease with which Lucien opened up, as if he wasn’t used to be associated with the same high-class circles as the rest of the presents. His quick remarks had the same taste as notes passed under the desk during boring lessons, thrilling and personal, even if they talked about nothing of substance, and his presence was grounding, capable of freeing her mind from unpleasant thoughts and calming her anxiety.

"If I want to, but fortunately it’s not something I have often to retort to,” he replied, before downing the glass of liquor in his right hand in a single sip. “And are you the gentles of the bunch as is rumored?”

Elain thought about it for a second. Regardless of how she wanted to behave, her nature wasn’t as wild and showy as Feyre’s or as relentless and demanding as Nesta’s: her qualities lay in diplomacy and understanding of her surroundings, she liked to observe more than act, and make thoughtful decisions to prevent mistakes. She was reserved, always composed, and knew how to keep her opinions to herself, but that didn’t make her any less dangerous, just easier to underestimate.

“I suppose so, or maybe I’m just really good at my job,” she replied, finishing the champagne herself and depositing the flute on an empty tray.

“Which, if I’m not mistaken, is sadly required,” he murmured in her ear, sending a shiver down her naked back. Elain followed his line of vision, and saw her father suspiciously pale and unsure on his legs.

Her eyes involuntarily rolled back in her skull. It was always the same damn story: he was the CEO of a multi-million-dollar company, not a small-town carpenter unfamiliar with open bars, therefore he should’ve known better than to get wasted before midnight, but punctual like a Swiss clock, he proved to be unable to complete even such a simple task. Elain didn’t expect him to suddenly stop drinking, despite all the help his daughters offered and the professionals they were handsomely paying, but she felt like it wasn’t too much to ask for him to not make a fool of himself at public events.

“I could show you where the backdoor is,” suggested her interlocutor, offering his arm with a wink of his good eye. “That’s where I usually sneak out from anyway.”

Convincing her father to move away from the corner of the room where he had retreated, probably in vain search of the poorly positioned bathroom, wasn’t as simple as it may sound, but once they succeeded, Lucien helped her to keep him upright, to make as few guests as possible notice his state.

“After you,” he told her with a polite smile, when they finally reached their destination, before opening the plastic door and bowing to let her pass like the humble usher of one of the luxurious hotels where he too surely used to stay when he did something his parents wouldn’t have approved of.

As soon as she stepped out, the acrid smell of New York immediately flooded her nostrils, and she was sure that if it hadn’t rained so heavily a couple of fat rats would’ve welcomed them back into the real world too.

“My usual luck,” Elain muttered, trying to keep from shivering in the cold. Her jacket had remained in the wardrobe, as to attract as little attention as possible, but the taxi Lucien had kindly called was at least a couple minutes away, so she could only hope that the thin fabric of her dress didn’t show off her nipples hardened by the winter air.

“My mother told me cream goes great with green,” Lucien whispered, and before Elain could ask him what the hell he was talking about, she felt the weight of his blazer settle on her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she murmured, meeting his gaze perhaps for the first time since they’d taken shelter under the tiny plastic canopy. He wasn’t pitying her, he wasn’t amused nor even annoyed, he simply seemed used to helping strangers in need and vaguely sorry that their time together had come to a premature end.

“No need to thank me Cinderella,” he replied, very tenderly, the corners of his mouth slightly raised. “But now we have to load your father into the carriage.”

The taxi had indeed arrived at the only exit of the dead-end street, as close as possible to its future passengers. The pouring rain didn’t take long to soak her hair, and Lucien’s white shirt stuck to his arms, the muscles tense from the effort. The cold seemed to have brought her father a little back to his senses, but his tremors, mixed with an innate lack of coordination exacerbated by the alcohol, weren’t helping.

“Your jacket…” Elain started, once she was seated, but the owner shut her with a shrug.

“See it as a reason to look for me if you ever want to see me again,” he replied, and with that, he closed the door, gesturing for the driver to start moving.

“Where am I taking you, miss?” asked the man, who was already taking the road furthest from the entrance of the venue to avoid the paparazzi camped nearby despite the adverse weather, when he realized she wasn’t going to give him directions soon, the girl too focused on the encounter she just had. Blushing for the embarrassment, and with her mind focused mainly on the heat emanating from Lucien, whose shadow remained on her in the form of his velvet jacket, she absentmindedly provided him her address.

In a moment of clarity, Elain forced herself not to be delusional. Such a handsome and charming guy was certainly already taken, or at least he had a roster of sexy lovers. But then why be so nice? Why help with her father? She was still up wandering the kitchen and asking herself questions she couldn’t know the answers to when Nesta returned home, fortunately alone.

“Judging by your state no redhead was lucky tonight,” she tried to joke, but Nesta’s expression was deadly grave and she plopped down on one of the chaises longues in the living room dimly lit by the fireplace.

“Do you think we should send him back to rehab?” Elain asked, sitting down on the expensive rug the subject of their conversation had bought on his last trip to the Middle East.

“I say give him a second chance, but only one,” she replied, her gaze following the dancing flames.

“You should’ve stayed at the party,” Elain scolded her, resting her head on her thigh, left bare by the deep slit of her dress. “The situation is under control.”

“I can’t have fun when I know you’re shouldering his addiction alone,” Nesta replied, stroking her still damp hair, destroying definitively the elaborate hairstyle. Elain didn’t say anything else, but for some reason, as Nesta recounted her version of the evening, her eyes kept slipping to the door in hope a certain gentleman would ring the doorbell just to say goodnight. 

[attorneys-against-court-violence]

Damon Gant scares the hell out of me.

This man. This. Sodding. Demon. It's been a few weeks since I beat Rise From the Ashes, but the events of that case and the actions of this character have made the name "Gant" borderline blasphemous. For how far I have gotten into Ace Attorney, he's probably the most terrifying of the villains so far. Yes, that includes Manfred.

Now, coming fresh off the fourth case like me, you may have wondered given his reputation; how can they make this goofy orange funny man more paralysing than THE Manfred von Karma himself? Old Karma set the bar pretty high after all - never was there a worse feeling than catching him in the Evidence Room with a taser after all the work you put in to incriminate him and his witness.

Karma was built from Edgeworth's reputation, the way he was talked up prior to the trial, and his control over the courtroom. He was introduced on a pedestal and kept there till the very end. You are *expected* to fear this man and plays him pretty straight. No ambiguity, he's just that terrifying.

Gant? He practically comes out of nowhere. Even Edgeworth is surprised (even fearful?) when he appears. And he introduces himself by... just standing there. Not even in ellipses as Karma did - he just stares at you until bursting into friendly dialogue. He indirectly helps you connect the SL-9 incident to the current case. He scolds Edgeworth with a smug grin.

You have no idea what to expect from this man. He hits you with so many conflicting signals that you can't tell what you're supposed to think of him. He seems friendly enough, I guess? Maybe he's just like good ol' Gumshoe right? But that stare and the way he taunts Edgeworth... it makes you wonder what's going on with the guy.

Your fears may be alleviated slightly when he lets you into the evidence room. Maybe that same, cold stare he gives you only raises your eyebrows. At best he's a very eccentric fellow, at worst you have no idea why he's keeping up such a façade... if there even is one.

Then the pieces start coming together. There's a good reason why he was so protective of his office; everything you find in there ties him into both cases in a very disturbing way. The way Lana is acting, why Jake Marshall is so interested in SL-9, everything that connects him to Ema especially paints him in a very ominous light. He was involved with all their lives and how they turned out and it isn't shaping up to be a very positive influence. Even smaller details - like how he blasts organ music at officers under his watch to punish them - paint him in an ominous light.

By the time he's standing as a witness for the second time, it becomes crystal clear. Damon Gant is a ruthless, selfish and thoroughly manipulative person. Everything, from SL-9 to now, was planned and thought-out by this horrid man to ensure he gets off scott-free. No matter how many lives he ruins in the process. He frames Ema for murder. He convinces Lana to help him cover up a fake crime. He kills Marshall's brother in the process. He gave Edgeworth false evidence when he took over as prosecutor for SL-9. He did his damndest to remove everyone who investigated SL-9 from power.

Bruce Goodman died because he was getting too close seeing Gants web of lies he had spent 2 years weaving and keeping at this rate. He pulls every string he has - Lana, Edgeworth, even Ema as a scapegoat - to make sure Bruce dies with his secrets. One wrong move from Phoenix and he would have walked out a free man.

Why?

Because he was desperate. They had their serial killer - Joe Darke - but no evidence to prove it. Right or wrong, Gant wanted someone to pay for these violent murders, so he sought justice through the most vile means possible. Manfred only did what he did because he's a perfectionist. Gant did what he did because he wanted justice - or at least the next best thing.

And yet he's still incredibly goofy, mentioning swimming at the slightest chance, giving people nicknames, the whole $50 thing... Manfred doesn't have many humanising moments in Ace Attorney, especially in the first game. Gant is presented as just another eccentric dude with a kind streak and is given plenty of opportunity to look human.

Which might be the scariest part about him.

He's an old and silly police chief who did some truly terrible things for the right reasons. His ruthlessness combined with his eccentric behaviour puts him in an uncanny valley of sorts. He's so close, but yet so far from being likeable as a person (compared to Manfred, who's the textbook definition of "love to hate").

I don't blame Edgeworth for being shaken by his final words.

[icecreamisbetterwithafork]

Happy September!

Things are certainly popping. The change of seasons is creeping in, and it is officially my favorite time to be home! End of summer, heading into fall, brings us San Diegans our true local summer. The crowds have gone home, the ocean is still warm, and the sunsets are fire.

The family and I have just returned from Yosemite, where we spent the last 3 weeks connecting with friends and family, soaking up nature, unplugging, slowing down, staring at the stars, swimming in the lake, fishing off the dock, wakeboarding, drinking the most amazing Mexican mochas from Mountain Sage Coffee Shop, making dinner together, gawking at El Capitan for the umpteenth time, swimming in the Merced, and paddleboarding on the lake—Jacko even got on the SUP! Though chaotic and full of ups and downs, it was just our souls needed before the new school year.

It took me almost 40 years to visit Yosemite, and it's become one of my favorite places to take Kylo. It also brought me much joy to witness my dad, in his mid-70s, take in the view of the valley for the first time. It truly is a magical place, and anyone who has ever visited can't deny it. While in Yosemite, my baby boy turned 9, and my new song, "Kylo's OP," was released into the world a few days later. As I was reflecting, I realized that some of the lyrics in that song came to me when I was driving back from Yosemite last year:

Everything that you believe, has already planted a seed, wow

Watching it all come to be, apples not far from the tree, now

A little full-circle moment for you! Now that we're home and the kiddos are back to school, I am looking forward to diving back into the garden—literally and figuratively—and working on finishing up a bunch of new songs that have been marinating. This process has been such an interesting one. Many of the songs were born in a day and are about 75% complete, but the final pieces have yet to reveal themselves. Patience is the name of the game in this case, and it has been a good lesson for me to practice once again letting go and trusting the process. I know the songs will "get done" when they get done. It's taken this long, so what's another little bit? I know I can never force it and have always felt that I would rather let the inspiration hit naturally than try to force it. Sometimes it seems like songs are just waiting for one more experience that leads to a thought or bridge that ties it all together. For instance, I saw Krishna Das this past year with my mom, which inspired the line in "Kylo's OP": “Everything that you believe has already planted a seed.” That took almost a year to come after the initial birth of the song. Either way, I can tell you this: I am sitting on a lot of new music and exciting projects that I can't wait to share with you over the next year.

So far the last couple of months have brought us:

A most beautiful song i had the pleasure of joining my friend Leonardo Prakash on, Bobby My Friend: listen here!

And my latest release, Kylo’s OP, out now: listen here!

So many of you have asked me what the "OP" stands for. Here you go: When I first met Trevor Hall in person, he was traveling with a mini synth from Teenage Engineering called the OP-1. He shared that many of the samples on his album IN AND THROUGH THE BODY and the intro song “blue sky mind” were created on the OP-1. Intrigued, I bought one and started trying to figure out how to use it—though I still haven’t completely figured it out! Fast forward a couple months later i went to Trevors studio in Colorado for the first time, I brought my OP-1 hoping to get some hot tips.

In the meantime, I always take little field recordings on my phone while hiking or out with Kylo, thinking they might be cool to use someday in a song. In this case, I had a recording of Kylo ringing his bike bell in a tunnel, and also a reel of him saying “hey mom” a bunch of times. Story of a mom’s life, right? #HEYMOM! MOMMMMM!

In the process of trying to show me how to use the OP-1, Kylo’s OP was born, using the samples I had taken and then importing and manipulating them with the OP-1. Trevor titled the song “Kylo’s OP” as a placeholder, but it just kind of stuck. I was curious about what the OP in OP-1 stands for, and when I Googled it, I found that OP is short for Opus.

In music, the opus number is the "work number" assigned to a musical composition, or a set of compositions, to indicate the chronological order of the composer's publication of that work. Opus numbers are used to distinguish between compositions with similar titles; the word is abbreviated as "Op." for a single work.

It seemed appropriate, and kind of random but cool, to leave it as Kylo’s OP, being that it’s the first song with his little voice going out into the world for the first time. <3

It also made sense to me to release this as the first song in a long while, because these last 9 years have been dominated by being fully immersed in motherhood while simultaneously being pulled to create. When I realized this song is literally me trying to be a musician and a mother wrapped up in a song, it made me laugh. Mothers know—the minute you try to do something for yourself, it's like your little one senses it and suddenly needs your attention! This song is the marriage of the two, also reminding us to stay curious, childlike, and remember to tap into that purity and time in your life when you were younger and didn’t have the weight of the world and all its responsibilities on your shoulders.

Before we grew up, and had places and people to be.

Of course, this is what it means to me, but I’m always curious how it lands and what it means to the listener—so if you have any insights to share, I always love hearing them. :)

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the bounty of September, Virgo take-over, and the change of seasons in bloom.

Xo,

TP

[coiledqueen]

hi dan, really curious about something — what is lucy's relationship with milotic like? did she raise it from a feebas? if so, what did the process look like for her? how does she feel about the beauty standards that have been set by this pokemon?

first of all, thanks for sending this--much love!! I suppose it'd be a great time to drop the deep Milotic lore... (I got carried away)

During her younger delinquent days, Lucy was aggressively recruited by Team Aqua--a group who offered both tempting refuge, stability, and the most interesting company in all of Hoenn. (Lucy never officially joined the team, as winning the Loto-ID changed her life circumstances drastically.)

Lucy was a frequent visitor to Aqua's seaside hideout, and it was there that she first met Feebas. A fisherman-turned-grunt was showing off his Feebas catch and boasting about its rarity, offering to trade or sell it for a premium price. While other grunts scoffed at these terms (Feebas were not exactly in-demand), Lucy made an adjusted offer: she and Seviper would take on this fisherman's entire team in battle. If she won, she'd get Feebas for free. If she lost, she'd pay double the asking price... (Deal.)

In a raw display of talent. Lucy and Seviper thrashed this guy. It was a one-on-six massacre, and she received Feebas--as promised--free of charge. The future Pike Queen was quick to crown the second member of her team.

While her Aqua friends scoffed at the shabby-looking fish, Lucy saw huge potential, noting how this Feebas could swim anywhere and seemingly never had to rest. High resilience and a revved-up motor...what more could you ask for in a Pokemon? Lucy made sure to let Feebas swim in the Lilycove sea every day, the little fish often flitting near the shallows while her trainer and Seviper downed countless hasslers on land. Battle osmosis...

Lucy found the secret to evolving Feebas in an unlikely place: the Lilycove Master Rank Contest Hall. Normally, she wouldn't be caught dead in a contest anything, but--after receiving a hot tip from a grunt more dialed in to the scene--Lucy was put onto the latest gossip: feed a Feebas enough Blue Pokeblocks to make their sheen beautiful, and they will change forms.

So, Lucy snuck into the Contest Hall, attempted to make her own blocks...and she almost broke the Berry Blender. She sucked at this...and then a savior emerged.

The Blend Master.

In the ultimate stroke of luck, Berry Blending's god took pity on the future Pike Queen and taught her the craft. With a lot of practice (and a lot of Oran Berries), Lucy could finally spin with the best of them. Seviper and Feebas gladly received the fruits of her labor.

And then, after thousands of battles watched, thousands of hours spent swimming and scrapping with Lilycove's sea-finest...Lucy's Feebas finally evolved into Milotic, just days before Scott's initial offer came through. Perhaps due to the care shown to her (along with the high-quality Pokeblocks), she is absolutely gigantic.

Yes, Milotic was both Lucy's second-ever Pokemon, and also the last to evolve...but the sea-serpent's battling prowess proves that it was worth the wait. In contrast to her hyper-aggro teammate in Seviper, Milotic serves as an immovable wall of defense, weathering attacks with that classic resilience while whittling down opponents (or completely blowing them away, mood depending.) If you get past Seviper's fangs, your reward is the right to face down the Pike Queen's...queen.

Outside of battle, Milotic is quietly (but ferociously) protective of Lucy, her Pokemon, and the entire Frontier. She maintains a motherly presence on the island's seaside perimeter, keeping a watchful eye on Frontier residents and visitors.

Milotic is a bit haughty, but when you're as beautiful (and as well-cared for) as she is, can you really blame her?

[doyelikehaggis]

28. Feed for the fic-title thing :D good luck with your writing!!

Thank you so much, I really appreciate that! (So, I basically wrote this entire fic since it was a short one anyway, so thank for you requesting this one lmao)

<3

"I've gotta admit, I used to think I'd enjoy this a lot more."

Matt gives a grim laugh, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots up through his wrist and into his shoulder. Here's hoping that's not a lasting effect or else he's going to have a rough practice tomorrow.

Elena immediately pulls back, making him regret saying anything at all when he sees the look on her face. He knows the look well; he saw that same guilty expression the weeks just before they broke up. He didn't know but he did. At least then, her guilt made sense, though.

"Matt," she starts to say, shaking her head, "I'm so sorr-"

"Hey, hey, it was a joke," he tries to assure her. Instinct has him reaching out to rest a hand on the side of her neck because he knows...

He has to stop himself short, leaving his hand awkwardly between them for a second before he ultimately decides not to cross that line and drops it back to his side. He swallows the lump in his throat but it hasn't budged in about four years, why would it now?

Elena's face drops along with his hand and he feels he might as well have just ripped her heart out with his bare hands. Funny that, how it would be unforgivable if he hurt her like that. But not for them.

She rubs at her face as she turns away from him, dragging her fingers through her hair with a pained expression. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of this..."

Matt knows that. Elena knows that. Everyone in the universe knows that their lives were not supposed to end up like this. It has been the only thing he has thought every single morning when he wakes up and every night when he tries to sleep. Except he's not mad about it anymore. What's the point?

Heaving a deep sigh, he gives in this time to his instincts and wraps his arms around her. She leans into him without any hesitation, and so he holds her close to him.

"It's gonna be okay," he quietly promises her even though he doesn't know how that could ever possibly be true when any of the people in his life could kill him on a whim tomorrow and he'd be forgotten about in a week.

That thought stirs something bitter in him and it tries to climb his throat but he forces it back down as Elena turns her body in his arms and presses herself against him, hugging him tightly. She doesn't even fight his unreliable word because she wants it to be true just as much as he does.

He lands a kiss on the top of her head, allowing himself just this one thing. Just this one second where it's just them. No vampires, no werewolves, nothing. Just two people who know each other better than they know themselves at time and don't quite know how to untangle the mess they have made of each other and themselves in the process.

"Come on," he murmurs. "You need to finish feeding. You barely took any, you've gotta be starving."

"But it's hurting you."

"Then just... try a different way or something. Maybe it's because you're new to it. There's gotta be some kind of learning curve, right? Like swimming or football."

Elena lets out the smallest laugh at that. She raises her head to look up at him with a slight smile, then she sighs, glancing uncertainly at his neck. It still sends a cold shiver down his spine to be looked at like that. A bit like how he imagines lions look at deer.

But he knows, deep down, that he would allow himself to be caught if it meant ensuring Elena got to live another day. That's not new. He spent weeks after the first crash wishing he had driven her home instead, or that he hadn't convinced her to go to the party at all. He can't think about the other crash at all.

She gets him to tilt his head a few centimetres back, resting against the wall behind him. Her fingers brush the sensitive skin of his neck, resting at the base of his throat. Then she leans in and slowly sinks her teeth into the soft flesh.

It doesn't hurt. Well, there is a prickle of pain, but then it erupts into something warm and he's not sure it's pain at all anymore. He gasps softly when they get all the way beneath the surface. They're definitely there, he can feel them, but it's not obtrusive like it was before. They're just... there. In his neck.

Elena's hand slides up the other side of his neck to keep him still and stop herself from accidentally slipping either. His eyes flutter closed at the touch.

"That's... yeah, that's a lot better," he breathes out shakily.

A wave of disappointment actually washes over him when she pulls back. There's a trickle of his blood on her lip. His stomach turns inside out. Unfurling. He can't figure out if he's disturbed or...

"Was that enough?" he asks tightly, pressing a hand to the small wound on his neck.

She nods and quickly wipes her mouth, ducking her head as if to stop him from seeing like this. He tries again to swallow but it causes stars to pop up in front of his eyes. Elena gets him to sit down on the bench nearby. She keeps hold of his hand. If she can hear his racing heart (which she probably can), she doesn't say a thing about it.

Send me the title/number of a wip and make me write it!

[luizazemi]

I closed my eyes and I saw everything 2/???

You enjoyed Omatikaya and Mektaniya kids getting to know each other in the first part? Well here's a second part of my Avatar : The Way of Water fic - in which siblings are being siblings, and being the oldest is not always easy (also I love mangrove trees, part 1/???).

[Title after this song]

“You are a walking disaster.”

“I am learning!!”

“A swimming disaster, mind you.”

“Oh, thank you for the support, Kiri!!”

Lo’ak made a face at his sister, but the girl had already been diverted by a multifaceted flatfish that strolled between their feet. Lo’ak shrugged. At least her sister had granted him enough of her attention span to laugh at him. Besides, he couldn’t even really give Kiri payback. She had already proved a way better swimmer than the three of them.

“You’re not even trying to swim, Neteyam remarked. You’re just prancing in front of the Olo’eyktan’s daughter.”

“Uh, first, she has a name, and it’s Tsireya, and, second, you bet I am, she is my teacher!”

Neteyam glanced at his brother, who went on his self-indulgent justifications. With a sigh, the eldest turned to the bay.

On this horizon line, the Olo’eyktan’s children had mounted their ilus. There they faced the open sea, proud totems depository of the skills of all their clan, steady and knowledgeable. A pout strained the Omatikaya’s face when he recalled the time he had spent taming his first ikran. The simple thought of going through all the trials, the reluctance of the animal, the irreconcilable freedom the Na’vis were desperate to make theirs, all that well-established process, made Neteyam weary. And yet the Mektaniya didn’t seem to strain at all. How could they bond with the wild so effortlessly? Why did everything look so easy to the water tribe? Could they, Omatikaya, really learn the way of water, or would they remain laughingstock for the rest of their stay?

Deep down, a part of Neteyam understood Lo’ak. And he didn’t want to admit that another part, more practical, was glad to see his brother fail harder than he did. He smirked:

“You’re not going to impress anybody with your underwater rolls. I’m sure Tuk can do it too.”

“Yeah and I’m sure you’d treat her like a downright genius if she did!”

Neteyam did not even answer. Lo’ak opened his mouth in indignation – since when was his brother such a big person that he would not argue with him anymore? Luckily, as if summoned by the brotherly quarrel, Kiri re-appeared right on spot, splashing the boys as she jumped out of the water.

“Tuk is a very neat swimmer! You should totally ask her for advice.”

Lo’ak squinted at his siblings.

“I am not asking the baby to teach me swimming tricks.”

“Oh, you are the baby”, Neteyam sighed.

“You should, you should!” Kiri insisted, hopping around her brother. “Tell her it’s for Tsireya, she’ll give it her best shot.”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes. With a quick pace, he slid out of Kiri’s reach, and climbed back on the shore. What would his little sisters, because yes, with such behavior, Kiri was definitely younger, what could they understand of his… bond with Tsireya. He couldn’t, and he did have a lot of imagination, but he just couldn’t picture Kiri - let alone Tuk – bother with relationship issues. They were so out of phase with everything, their advice could not but be plain ridiculous.

Back on the mangrove root, Lo’ak pointed an outraged finger at his siblings:

“Anyway, thanks for nothing. You are so not helping.”

Kiri shrugged, and Lo’ak could see her gaze drawn to whatever flashy fish-like thingy the sea just carried to the shore. Annoyed, he pointed his finger with a bit more intensity at Neteyam.

“And you are not helping either.”

He went off to the marui before his brother could answer anything.

Not that Neteyam had much inspiration to discourage his brother. He never really enjoyed bashing him, and couldn’t figure his indifference annoyed Lo’ak even more. After all, Neteyam’s one and only priority had always been the same : making sure the family was safe. And if that implied Lo’ak making himself less of a fool in front of Aonung and his friends… Well, it was his eldest’s duty to reflect on these diplomatic issues more thoroughly.

Neteyam spotted female Metkaniya bathing near his sister. The elder Metkaniya seemed to have accepted their presence better than the youngest, so the boy hoped that they would remind the relentless diver to breathe.

Knowing that Kiri was in good care, he allowed himself a break. It was past mid-day now, and the marui were deserted. His parents, Tuk stuck to their mother’s tail, were probably practising their social skills. Neteyam was a bit relieved he didn’t have to witness that. His father was already not much of a socialite among the Omatikaya, and his mother had been on edge since they left the jungle. Not that any of the Sullys could blame her, though. He himself often felt stuck between the great mangrove roots, and tired of the sea trials.

His songchord in hand, Neteyam lay curled up on his mat, his back to the peaceful humming of the waves; his face to the border of the forest that peeked through the hangings.

The mangrove trees stood way above their already colossal roots. Like a framework to a sky never as dark as them, they hold in their silent embrace the secrets of the inner atoll. Neteyam wondered if the heart of the forest was as suffocating as the rainforest. Older clan members were gathering fruits and plants from this jungle, so the environment couldn’t be that dreary. However, Aonung had explained that only adult individuals were allowed to take part in the gathering, and that youth like them were not supposed to leave the shore. Neteyam also wondered until when this territory would be out of reach. How bizarre, he thought, that his world had expanded so much so suddenly, and that, as soon as he had been settled, new boundaries had replaced the previous ones.

How bizarre, he thought, to feel trapped in open water.