#and they’re almost impossible to miss because I’m obligated to be there for the sake of the campers

[gryphonablaze]

Slept from 11(? Not certain) to 3:30, then 9-10. Is my fatigue from lack of sleep, or because i haven’t been eating enough lately because a combination of executive dysfunction and forgetting to eat?

[oreoambitions]

46 for agentreign please

Anon I'm sorry this took me a thousand years, but here you go. This gets wildly NSFW after the cut. Enjoy!

/// The first time it happens, Alex figures it's a fluke.

There are, after all, extenuating circumstances. She's not sure how many glasses of wine she's had because every time she turns around Sam has topped her off again, and maybe she should stop indulging but the wine is good and the company is better and this is the first day off off she's had for so long that it's hard not to let go a little. Kara's been keeping the showtunes coming all afternoon, a little louder than her old bluetooth speaker can really handle but it doesn't matter because Spotify is really just an excuse for Kara and Sam to sing at the top of their lungs. Alex is not participating, but she is appreciating. Appreciating because it's nice to see her sister laugh and smile like maybe things are getting better and maybe things are going to be okay. And also appreciating because, well, Sam. It's hard not to appreciate anything and everything Sam.

The activity of the afternoon is ostensibly the production of baked goods for a fundraiser related to Ruby's soccer team. Alex says 'ostensibly' because the reality is that it's been more than three hours and they haven't gotten the first batch of cookies into the oven yet. There's flour all over the floor, and she's pretty sure Kara got butter stuck to ceiling before Sam took the mixer away, but sometimes that's just the cost of a slightly raucous afternoon well spent, isn't it? And they'll have it all done in time anyway. In fact, Sam is just now finishing up the first batch of cookie dough in the confiscated kitchen aid when Alex, perhaps inebriated or perhaps just feeling emboldened by the domestic comfort of the whole affair, lunges for the beater.

This, it turns out, is either a mistake or the best decision she's ever made in her life. Her hand does contact the beater. She does come within a few seconds of pure raw cookie dough bliss. But Sam is faster, and in a flash Alex finds herself pinned between the counter and Sam's hips, one wrist wrapped up in Sam's fingers, the beater now soundly out of reach in Sam's other hand.

"Mine," Sam growls, but her eyes have dropped to Alex's mouth and for one disorienting moment Alex thinks she might be about to kiss her, thinks maybe the word 'mine' has nothing to do with the beater at all, that maybe they've crossed into some alternate dimension where there's a future for her and Sam that doesn't involve a lot of politely smiling and politely never mentioning one another's romantic entanglements or the absence thereof.

And the thing is, Alex thinks to herself, contemplating the heat of Sam's gaze and the fact that she literally cannot move beneath Sam's hips, this is... attractive. This is very attractive, in an immediate and throbbing sort of way that would be frankly embarrassing approximately half a glass of wine earlier in the afternoon. But that can't be right, because Alex doesn't like to be pushed around. Alex is the one who does the pushing. Isn't she? Sam's grip tightens around her wrist and Alex's lips part of their own accord and-

"Oh for heaven's sake," Kara says, snatching the beater out of Sam's hand. "It's mine, because you two are both being ridiculous." She rolls her eyes. "I hate being the only adult in the room."

It was a fluke. That's what Alex thinks to herself later that night when she wakes with a start from a just-dozing-off dream featuring the immovable nature of Sam's hips. They were drinking and it was a long afternoon and everyone was a little wound up and a little giddy and Alex has been single for a long time. That's it. That's all it was. That's all it has to be.

///

It's harder to write it off as a fluke the second time, but she manages.

James is in town and so it's game night. Not their monthly game night as scheduled, but an extra at-the-last-second game night, and Alex is on call. Which is fine. She can count on her fingers the number of times she's had to handle something in the middle of the night while on call for the DEO, and she's not particularly worried. But it's a problem because she can't be drinking, which means she's sober when Sam corners her in the kitchen.

It's been a long night. Not in a bad way. Just in the sense that things have been a little more risque than usual, what with Nia falling over herself trying to make it clear to Brainy that she'd like to sleep with him without actually making it clear, and Lena shooting those long smoldering looks at a characteristically oblivious Kara, and then there's Sam. Alex can't stop looking at Sam in that shirt where it sits a little too tight across the shoulders, can't stop tracing the line of that necklace to the place where it disappears just below her collar, can't stop following the meaningless movement of her fingers as she absently fiddles with a beer that wouldn't have an effect on her even if she drank the whole case. She wonders idly if it's for the aesthetic or if Sam just likes the taste of a craft IPA.

The trouble is that every time Alex catches herself looking at Sam, she also catches Sam looking at her. And so, upon dragging her eyes up once more from Sam's fingers to find Sam staring back at her, eyes dark and expression unreadable, Alex decides it's time for a drink after all. One beer won't hurt, even if the world decides to consider coming to an abrupt conclusion in the next hour or so and it turns out to be her responsibility. It's just that her mouth is suddenly dry, and the room is suddenly too loud, and she needs something to roll between her fingers the way Sam is rolling that IPA back and forth and back and forth and- Yeah. Just one beer will be fine.

She slips into the kitchen while Nia is yelling about how they should all do a TikTok together. It's quieter here, and a cool breeze through the window over the sink raises goosebumps across her arms. She pops the fridge open, pulls a beer at random, leans up against the counter. Maybe she doesn't want a drink after all. Maybe she just needs a minute.

"Aren't you on call, Ms. Danvers?"

Sam. Alex pouts. "What are you, the party police?"

Sam steps up close, takes the beer from Alex without so much as looking at it. "Aren't you the alien invader police?"

That's a dumb line and it doesn't remotely reflect Alex's actual job description, but she laughs anyway. "It's just one beer. Like 4%. I can handle it."

"I know," Sam murmurs.

Alex thinks she's forgotten how to breathe. Sam's eyes are on her mouth and those hips are pressing into her again and when Sam slips one arm around her waist and one hand into her hair a sound comes out of her that might have been a whimper. There's an inevitability to the way Sam leans in, to the way Alex's lips part as Sam tilts her head back with a firm tug. There's a moment of hesitation, a lingering, an opportunity to say no. Instead, Alex whispers, "Please."

Sam obliges. She kisses her slow, languid almost, holds her firm against the counter as she licks into her mouth and Alex is thinking that maybe she's going to come right here just letting Sam kiss her like this when Sam presses a thigh between her legs and she gasps, grinds down hard without meaning to.

Sam chuckles into her mouth, drags one hand around to her throat, traces feather light kisses along her jaw, tugs on her earlobe with her teeth. "Good girl," she whispers.

Alex isn't sure if it's the heat of Sam's breath, or the praise, or the way she's been casually immobilized, but she shudders, and Sam chuckles again, lips against her ear, and that only makes it worse.

"Fuck," Sam says. "If I had my strap with me I'd rail you right here."

Alex is pretty sure that would kill her. She's pretty sure just the thought of it is going to kill her. Just the pad of Sam's thumb dragging across her throat as she kisses her again, just the roll of those hips, that thigh pressing hard into her, that deep ache coiling tighter as Sam pulls back just far enough to meet her eyes and-

"Hey, Nia wants- Oh!" Lena stops short just inside the kitchen door. "I'll just." She plucks a bottle of wine from the counter. "Take this and tell her that you've uhm. That you're busy."

"We'll be right there," Sam says. She straightens Alex's shirt with a tug and a smirk. "Wouldn't want to miss the TikTok dance."

"Nope," Alex chokes out. "Wouldn't want to miss that."

It's a fluke. Alex takes a long shower when she gets home, and she takes care of the lingering ache that's now outlived not one but two TikTok dances, and she thinks about texting Sam. She falls asleep with her phone in her hand and if she has dreams about a tall, handsome, strong woman railing her against a kitchen counter, well. That happens sometimes. Could happen to anyone. Doesn't mean anything except that Alex has been single for probably too long . She downloads Hinge in the morning and considers explicitly mentioning in her bio that she's the one who wears the strap.

///

The Hinge profile lasts about three days. Alex scrolls through a ridiculous number of women, all of whom are... fine, before she comes to the conclusion that the problem is that none of them are Sam. She's sitting on this stupid app pedaling her stupid profile and all she wants is the woman whose attention prompted her to download a dating app in the first place. And she can't want Sam because it would never work. They're fundamentally incompatible. This bedroom ain't big enough for two tops. It's not going to happen.

But the words if I had my strap with me I'd rail you right here are as stuck in Alex's head as that Lady Gaga song Brainy won't stop playing over the speakers at the DEO. She can't stop thinking about it. Picturing it, even. Dreaming about it when her mind should be anywhere else, on anything else. And she'd just avoid Sam, just look the other way until her hormones sort themselves out, except that Sam is virtually impossible to avoid.

Kara doesn't make it any easier when she calls on Friday night to ask her about a movie night at Sam's apartment.

"Ruby's on a school trip, so it'll be just the four of us," Kara says over the phone. "I'll bring snacks, and we can order whatever you want for dinner. Please? Lena's never seen Star Wars; we have to do something."

Alex doesn't know how to say no. No, I won't come to what feels suspiciously like a double date movie night at Sam's apartment, because Sam's strap is at Sam's apartment, and I'm not sure that she isn't going to try to fuck me on the bathroom floor, and furthermore, I'm not sure that I don't want her to. Instead she says, "Any Star Wars? That's a crime. Which movie are we starting with?"

It's probably a safe bet anyway. Kara and Lena will be there the whole time; Alex and Sam will never be alone. All Alex has to do is make sure that she leaves when everyone else does and they can avoid the awkwardness altogether, and no that is definitely not anticipation she's feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she certainly does not spend an extra half an hour in bed on Saturday morning keeping herself busy with the thought of offering to stay and help clean up, of finding herself pinned against the refrigerator door while Sam takes her from behind. That absolutely does not happen because that would be ridiculous, undignified, untoplike behavior.

Alex is certainly feeling ridiculous, undignified, and untoplike standing outside Sam's door that evening, anxiously smoothing out her shirt with one hand, a case of that IPA from game night in the other. She's arrived a carefully calculated fifteen minutes late just to be absolutely sure Kara and Lena will get here first, but she didn't spot Kara's car outside, and so she isn't particularly surprised when Sam opens the door with a warm smile and welcomes her into an empty apartment.

"Kara and Lena?" she asks as Sam takes the proffered beer.

"Lena got held up at the office," Sam replies, already disappearing into the kitchen. "They're running late. An hour or so. Told them we'd wait. Do you prefer an IPA or a lager? I don't have any stouts in the fridge right now. Might be a decent sour in here somewhere."

Alex lingers in the entryway, that not-anticipation feeling thrumming through her veins. She could follow Sam to the kitchen. Kitchens do seem to be their Thing. But Sam returns with two lagers, her question unanswered, and nods her head towards the living room.

Well, now they're alone together after all and Alex is feeling awkward. She settles onto one end of the couch and tries not to read into it when Sam deposits the lagers on the coffee table and settles in next to her, legs folded under her, almost too close, instead of occupying the perfectly good cushion on the other end.

"Sam," Alex tries. They should talk about this. "We should talk about this."

"Hmm." A hint of a smirk flickers across soft lips before Sam schools her expression. "Talk about what, exactly?"

If Alex had bothered to rehearse this conversation in her mind, she still wouldn't have imagined it going this way. Her eyes drop to Sam's mouth and then she struggles to look elsewhere. The records on the shelf under the window. The blank television screen.

"I-" she starts, but the words don't want to come out. The lager on the coffee table. She doesn't reach for it. "I can't stop thinking about game night," she forces out, and then she looks back up at Sam to gauge her reaction.

Sam is smirking openly now, a hint of laughter in her eyes. She reaches out to tangle long fingers in the hair at Alex's nape, the same grip she used to pull her into a kiss just last week, and Alex's arousal is embarrassingly immediate. "Really?" Sam asks. "Game night, huh? You want to know what I can't stop thinking about?"

It's Alex's gaze that drops first, to Sam's mouth again, and this time she can't look away. "What?"

"Tonight," Sam replies, close enough that Alex's eyes flutter closed, close enough that she can almost feel Sam's answer on her lips. There's probably a coy response for this somewhere in the lesbian handbook but Alex is reaching and coming up empty. She presses a soft kiss to Sam's mouth instead and feels that anticipation - there's no denying now that it's anticipation - thrum again when Sam's tongue immediately presses into her, hot and demanding.

"What's so special about tonight," Alex mumbles as Sam kisses along her jaw to her neck.

"Mmm." Sam nips hard against Alex's pulse point, smiles into her skin when she gasps. "Well, that depends."

"On what?"

"Take your shirt off."

Alex hesitates. That isn't remotely the answer to her question, but now Sam is sucking on her neck and her capacity for rational thought is rapidly diminishing. She fumbles with the first shirt button, fingers trembling, and then the second. Three undone is enough for Sam to pull the offending garment over her head. The sports bra follows, and then Sam is tugging on Alex's hips to reposition her so that she's lying back on the couch, and Alex suddenly understands what everyone finds so attractive about kryptonians, because it's effortless the way Sam moves her. She has about a half second to be transfixed by the abs peeking out from under Sam's own blouse before Sam is kissing down her collarbone and over her breast, chuckling when Alex's hips jerk underneath her.

"You know," Sam says, "I was expecting more of a fight out of Alex But-I'm-A-Top Danvers."

Alex opens her mouth to let out a retort but Sam's tongue is working a circle around her nipple and rational thought is once again threatening to fail. "Is that what you want?" She manages, struggling to sit up. "You want a fight?"

"No." Sam pushes her back again, pins her arms over her head with one hand, brushes the fingers of the other across her ribs, frowns. "No, I like you better like this."

Alex flushes and has to remind herself not to squirm, not to look away as Sam studies her in silence, drops kisses across her shoulders, traces the lines of her hip and the inside of her thigh. And then Sam reaches under the couch for a box, the implications of which are momentarily as immobilizing as the hand still holding Alex's wrists down, because Sam planned for this, planned far enough in advance to stash supplies where they might be convenient.

Alex swallows hard when Sam's pants exit the scenario, and Sam's eyes flicker over her face as she opens the box.

"How do you feel about being strapped on the couch?" she asks.

It's such a blunt question that Alex flushes again. "Uhm. Okay?"

Sam stops with her harness halfway out. "Just okay? I'm gonna need a clear yes or-"

"Yes. God. Yes please," Alex says, flushing an even darker shade. She's going to let... this... happen, but she's not going to beg. Christ. Consent granted; please let's move on before things get awkward. Sam chuckles a little at her discomfort and presses a kiss to her brow.

"Okay. But if you want me to stop you just say the word."

Alex nods, not trusting herself to speak, eyeing Sam's fingers where they're tightening the harness. And then all at once she blurts out, "Kara and Lena could be here at any moment," which she hadn't realized might be a concern until it came out of her mouth but now she can't stop thinking about it, and how embarrassing that would be, and Kara can see through walls for heaven's sake, and-

Sam chuckles. "Baby," she says, sliding herself between Alex's legs, "You're not going to last long enough to be worried about that."

Sam is embarrassingly, excruciatingly not wrong. By the time the strap is working into her Alex is pretty sure she's wound tighter than she's ever been, and she'd crack some kind of joke about how it's clearly been too long since she's had anyone inside of her but this is really not the time. Sam is pressing inexorably deeper and it's all she can do to hold her breath because otherwise she's going to come altogether undone before they've even gotten started.

Sam gives her a moment when she's all inside, waits for Alex to exhale, waits for her nod before she starts to rock her hips, and the drag of the strap is so intense that Alex loses her breath and her self control in the same instant with a groan that only deepens Sam's smirk. Alex is kind of wishing Sam would give her back the use of her hands, but that's not in the cards. She squirms instead, hips bucking of their own accord, head thrown back hard against the cushion of the couch.

"Thought about this every night," Sam murmurs, and Alex thinks she'll say since game night but she says, "Since the day I met you," which is almost as mindblowing as the pleasure somehow, incredibly, continuing to build between Alex's hips. "Thought about how good you'd be under me."

Alex shivers at that and then comes, bucking hard into Sam to take as much of the strap as she can, half aware of Sam whispering something in her ear that might have been what a good girl you are if Alex had been cognizant enough to comprehend it. She comes back down to soft kisses across her face, and when Sam lets go of her wrists she wraps her arms around her and tries to remember how to breathe, how to pull all the pieces of herself back together, how to be a competent and capable, dignified and toplike partner.

Alex runs a hand absently through Sam's hair and hums. "Do you want me to return the favor?" she asks. She doesn't have a strap with her but, well, it's not like that was ever the best trick up her sleeve anyway. She opens her mouth to make a quip about how a good top is always prepared but Sam reaches out and casually tips an untouched lager onto her discarded shirt.

Alex splutters.

"Too late," Sam says brightly. "You'll have to ask me after dinner. Lena and Kara are here."

"Lena and Kara are what-"

And there's the knock at the door. The door not ten paces from where Alex is lying in a state of naked disarray on the couch where they are supposed to be watching Star Wars. There is a moment of absolute stillness before Alex begins to scramble for her clothes.

"Bedroom is the second door on the left," Sam says, sneaking in a last kiss while Alex reaches for the underpants peeking out from under the coffee table. "Clean shirts in closet. Do pick something nice; I've been dying to see you in my clothes."

Alex scurries down the hall in her socks quietly cursing and thanking every star in the sky. It's going to be a long night. If she's lucky.

[createandconstruct]

From @lightning-struck-thrice​​

BASIC?! IMPOSSIBLE. The Not Alone sequence is the BEST scene in the e n t i r e game. I’ll die over that hill. I was driving yesterday, shuffling my music, and the Distant Worlds version of Not Alone came on. Safe to say I was crying while trying to merge lanes.

What’s truly beautiful about the sequence is that Zidane is stripped down to the ugliest part of him. He’s cruel, harsh, lashing out at everyone who tries to reach him. And yet they reach. out. anyway.

"Leave me alone..."

"This has nothing to do with you."

"Shut up! Just shut up, you stupid brat!"

"Will you little twits just shut up!"

"There are some things kids can't understand."

When Eiko and Vivi arrive he’s angry, hateful, he pushes them away, and speaks so unkindly to them, unlike he ever has before. Through their entire journey Zidane treated Eiko and Vivi as equals yet here he throws their ages in their faces and refuses to listen to their words of truth.

"I can take care of myself."

Yet then comes Freya and Amarant. Freya tells him, "Looks like you need some help," only for the once loner Amarant to show up, jabbing, insincerely, "Can't you even take care of yourself?” Zidane responds, but that hot anger isn’t there from when he spoke to Vivi and Eiko. Something’s changing, yet he brushes off their words of help with an isolating, dismissing, responsive. It’s still not getting through.

"Just leave me alone. I don't want to trouble you anymore."

He walks on only this time to happen upon Steiner and Quina already fighting for his sake. "Steiner...Quina... What are you doing..." Is all he can say. In complete shock at the sight that more of the party have come for him. As he joins the fight he can only quietly say, “You guys...” As Steiner responds, without missing a beat, “You’re late, Zidane!” And when the battle ends, the anger has all but fizzled out. The truth of Zidane’s outburst is leaking out. Zidane doesn’t wish to be alone. No one truly wishes for such a thing. Yet we often run from the comfort and love of others in fear of what we’ll bring them in return. Trouble, Zidane says. He believes his presence at their sides has only made things worse. That it will only continue to do so. For all they have given him, in this moment, he truly believes he has given nothing but pain to them in return.

"You're all a bunch of babysitting bastards!"

He’s at his ugliest. He’s at his point of most despair. Everyone who’s come before, from Vivi to Steiner, he throws their kindness in their faces. Shouting that their following after him his almost like suffocation. That their compassion and devotion is unwelcome. That they’re the ones who are wrong. He’s the one who wants to be alone, so they should simply grant his wish.

And yet...

"But trust me, I know that I'm the worst bastard here."

Despite their time together, despite the blood they’ve shed beside him, the tears they’ve shared, the very scene before his eyes that they’ve returned for him despite his opposition, he quietly says his true belief, his honest fear, that they’re beside him out of obligation. That they’ve stayed beside him by mistake. That by walking with them, welcoming their friendship, love, and goodness he’s led them to despair. He’s a useless child they’ve been looking after, one who belongs to the very world who spilt their blood and brought their tears. He’s the bastard. Not them. Never them. Because he’s the one who never could deserve them. 

That’s his truth. That’s the darkness hidden within Zidane. For all his optimism, all his cheer, Zidane is the one without a home. He’s the one without a father. He’s the spawn of Terra. The evil they’ve been fighting is his origin, the pain radiating from Gaia is in his blood, he must hold responsibility for the suffering of these people, who, despite his words and actions, he holds most dear. These people who only earlier he was desperate to still call his in the very face of his creator. 

“I'm aware of all the laughter, all the tears I've shared with the people I grew up with on Gaia.”

He enters the final battle against the Shell Dragon. A battle no one could win alone. One he fights in silence. One he fights with a clear end in sight. He takes a hit that brings him to his knees and one can only say that his mission here is clear. It is the one thing a lost, misguided person can do to rid those they care about of the burden they so tragically believe to be themselves. 

“Is this how you want to solve the problem?”

Dagger doesn’t let him. 

“You try to do everything by yourself, don't you?”

She sees right through him. She sees that ugliness, she hears that despair, she feels him push away and yet she. Reaches. Out. Anyway. She sees it for what it is. She refuses his self-hatred, she pushes back against his isolation, she tells him she won’t take no for an answer. When someone refuses a hand that aims to pull them up - that is when they are truly at their lowest. It is when they believe they don’t deserve help that they need it the most. It is when they seek to be alone that need someone beside them.

You've always protected us. But you still don't understand that we looked out for you, too! We watched your back while you watched ours. And we believed in you the same way you believed in us! Just like you protected us... We want to protect you.

Zidane pushes back. He lists the reasons, the horrible burdening weight he doesn’t wish to inflict upon the people he always thought of as friends, yet never had the confidence to believe went both ways. And Dagger tells him off. Breaking through his delusion of despair. For every kindness he gave, they returned. For every joy he felt with them beside him, it resounded within them too. If he expects to save them then he must except them to save him too. Even if he doesn’t wish it, even if he scratches and bites and spits anger and hate that he doesn’t truly mean, they will not budge. Because the truth of this beautiful scene isn’t that Zidane is “not alone...”

...it’s that his friends won’t ever let him be.

And what can Zidane say in the face of such selfless, unconditional love.

"Ha... What am I gonna do with you guys?"

Nothing, really. 

Because truly, what needs to be said?

He simply does the one thing we as humans can do in this often dark, painful, lonely life we’re given: 

He takes the hands of those he loves and holds them.

[ververa]

“Everyone Finds True Love Or At Least A Dancing Partner” part 2

Part 1

A/N: Thank you for all the comments and reblogs!! Your kind words motivate me to keep writing and make me really really happy. So, please don’t stop <3

Sorry if this is boring or bad. I didn’t rewrite this part - this is the first and the only version of it that I have. But I decided to post it without making corrections or any changes, mainly because I feel kind of guilty for taking so long finishing my works. Hopefully it’ll do. 

Also this whole story is going to be longer than I’ve initially planned, but I regret nothing. 

@misssmephisto​ once again THANK YOU SO MUCH for helping me with everything!!! <3 

Hope you enjoy it!!

Cordelia Goode x fem!reader

Word count: ~4,000

Cordelia might not have realized how loud her thoughts were. But you did. For you they were as loud and clear as if someone had been whispering into your ear. As a matter of fact, you were sure Elliot was talking to you, though you obviously were wrong. Much to your dismay it was Cordelia’s mind that you heard. You tried hard to make it stop, to get the control over it and somehow shut it off. But nothing worked.

It was disturbing and made it hard for you to follow the music. If it hadn’t been for years of practice and the proficiency  you acquired, you most likely wouldn’t be able to keep dancing. It was hard to finish the performance and Elliot could tell you were struggling for some unknown to him reason. Yet you managed to do it. You managed despite your mind being derailed by the other woman’s alcohol intoxicated subconsciousness. 

It made you confused. You were a witch, of course, and it shouldn’t surprise you. Though it had been years since you had used your powers to the fullest. You had almost completely stopped using them and you were quite content living without them. You didn’t necessarily appreciate the fact of you being a witch. Of course, it wasn’t the end of the world and you would be lying if you said that they weren’t useful at times. Yet still, you wished to be just like everyone else and not have any supernatural powers. You wished there was some cure, but you were aware there was none. Whether you liked it or not, you had to withstand it. And so you kept pulling through no matter what, except you had never even considered meeting the Supreme, the most powerful of all witches and you definitely hadn’t thought of what it could do to you.

But there you were - at work, in the middle of the performance, struggling with figuring out what was actually going on and what was the reason for the sudden awakening of your gift. You tried to act as natural as possible, while you were discreetly looking for the person whose thoughts kept flooding your already crowded mind.

You scanned the room and finally spotted her - the stunning blonde stuck in the crowd with one of very few people you actually despised. If you were being honest Adam’s company was the only thing you didn’t like about her. He just didn’t match with her. She was the embodiment of elegance. A walking poem, a perfect beauty. Her skin was flawless and pale. So pale that against the light it seemed as white as porcelain. And there was that glow. As if all the magic was floating around her enclosing her in some kind of halo. You had never seen anything like that in your whole life. Probably no one had, it appeared to be just you - the privilege of being a witch, one would say. And maybe this one time, you would be willing to compromise with them and admit it was a positive trait.

You didn’t know her at all, but one look was enough for you to be able to tell she wasn’t like the others. If you’d have to compare her to anything, you would definitely compare her to a butterfly. She was like one of those rare butterfly species. Surrounded by all those rich and second-rated people, she truly seemed flawless. A butterfly among moths.

But even though your eyes were blessed, your mind was still burning. All her thoughts added to your worries and problems were like a lethal mixture. It was a lot to take, yet still something was dragging you to her. You kept watching her out of the corner of your eye, wondering why she had such a strong impact on you.

You didn’t mean to interfere or do anything about the whole mind reading situation - hoping it would solve itself, praying for it to stop and for your powers to subside again, so that you could come back to your normal life. Though you couldn’t just watch Adam trying to walk away with her. For some odd reason you felt incredibly protective of the woman. Was it the unexpected access to her mind that made you feel obliged to help her? Or maybe the fact that you knew Adam well enough to know what he was capable of? You didn’t know. It was an instinct.

You escorted her to her room. You made sure she was safe. And that was it. You didn’t plan on meeting her ever again - for your own good.

She was absolutely perfect and adorable and funny, especially in her drunk state. But meeting her was overwhelming for your mind. Your powers were all over the place. You thought that maybe it was just her presence. Though ever since your meeting you were unable to make it all stop, you couldn’t shut your powers off no matter how hard you tried. Whatever she did to you wasn’t fixable. Apparently, she was a gasoline to your fire. And as much as you wanted to, as tried as you might have - it was impossible to ignore it. It was impossible to just like that ignore and forget the fucking Supreme Cordelia Goode.

 _

Cordelia with no doubt was a master of organizing things. Order and neatness - the governing principles, were supposed to bring nothing, but peace and quiet. And she never went against her principles. Not until that one evening. Not until all those drinks she had. 

It was truly incredible she didn’t have a hangover. In fact, the only malfunction her disheveled self could register in the morning was that... she didn’t remember.

Cordelia put her hand on her head and closed her eyes trying to focus, trying to recall the events of the previous night. But everything was so blurry and confusing. She couldn’t say what was for real and what was just a dream. It felt as if half of her mind faded to oblivion.

Cordelia liked things to be crystal clear, but at that very moment it wasn’t even close to comprehensible. Nothing made sense as her mind was full of incoherent images. She was a mess and it caused her a lot of distress. She knew very well that she was far from innocent and flawless, but for God’s sake it was only the beginning of her stay there and somehow she already made it even harder and more complicated.

She really tried to remember, but no matter how deep inside her subconscious mind she thought she managed to reach - the only things she could recall was sitting at the bar and dancing with Adam. And that was the kind of stuff she wished she could forget.

The thought of his hands wandering on her body made her sick. She wanted to rub it all out, but she knew there was more than that. Something more had happened the previous night and she could feel it. She found herself longing for something she didn’t even remember. But she knew it wasn’t just her mind deceiving her. It was real and she was desperate to find out what it was.

Cordelia kept thinking of all the options she had. She was getting ready for another day, which - she already knew, was going to be hard. She started with cleaning, collecting her clothes, when suddenly a vivid vision, of a man with a beard carrying her, hit her. It lasted only a few seconds, but made her remember, not everything, but definitely the presence of someone that affected her. She looked down at the material in her hands - her dress. She smelled it and a distinct scent of cigarettes mixed with female perfume overtook her for a moment.

You were there with her - she established. Yet the memory of you was more like a wind. She couldn't see it, but still felt it. And her intuition was telling her that you were closer than she thought.

Cordelia made up her mind rather quickly - she was going to find you and figure everything out. Considering how her powers worked with the dress, she decided to use them around the hotel, hoping they would help her find the answers she needed. Though it wasn’t all that simple. She spent a few hours wandering around the hotel and nothing happened. Well, except for people looking at her as if there was something terribly wrong with her. Yet she wasn’t going to give up. There was still one place left - the restaurant.

Cordelia wasn’t happy going there. She really didn’t feel like meeting Adam again, but that was the only option left. She walked to the bar. The place full of people, was now empty. Cordelia sighed with relief. She was about to touch the counter, when a male voice drew her attention.

“They’re still closed” he stated

“Excuse me?” Cordelie turned to face him and almost immediately recognized him - the man with the beard “It’s you!” she exclaimed standing up

“Me?” he asked confused 

“You carried me to my room yesterday”

“Ooooh. Yeah, I did. I mean I carried you to the hotel and Y/N took you to your room” he shrugged

“Y/N…” Cordelia repeated after him “And where is she now?”

“Look, don’t get me wrong… but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to tell you. You caused her enough problems. You know, you did that thing to her head…”

Instead of answers she needed, there were only more and more questions. What problems? What thing…?

“Wait. I hurt her?” Cordelia asked already worried

“No! I mean not physically… I don’t know. You’re a witch, you should know such things…”

“That… That makes no sense”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could help you, but I really can’t, Miss Goode”

Cordelia just nodded, making her way back to the hotel. She was frustrated even more than before. She was so close, yet so far. 

She could use her powers to make him do whatever she wanted - just like Fiona had done. But was she really able to do it? Could she use her powers in such a way? She was nothing like Fiona. She was nothing like any of the previous Supremes. Or maybe she was? Cordelia still didn’t know it. That was something she still hadn’t figured out. Where were the limits? What were her limits? And were there any limits at all? Any boundaries or certain rules? Any guidelines she was supposed to follow? You either were or weren’t the Supreme - that was a fact. And as the Supreme you were supposed to take care of the Coven and protect the witches. That was it. All that she knew. But there was no one to tell her if she was doing all of it the right way.

 “Miss Goode!” Gerald’s voice brought her back to earth “Are you enjoying your time?”

“Yes” she lied offering him a small smile

“I’m glad. If you need anything, you know where I am. Just ask and I’d be more than happy to help”

“Actually, there’s something…”

“Yes?”

“Yesterday, there was the performance at the restaurant. There was a couple dancing there”

“Yes. Y/N and Elliot. And what’s with them?”

“Well, I want to know where I can find Y/N”

“Ahhh, Y/N. Our sweet Y/N” he chuckled sitting down next to Cordelia “I know her since she was a little kid. I watched her growing up. Her grandma - Helen. She’s absolutely amazing. She brought Y/N and her brother up and taught them how to dance. She used to be a dancer herself. And let me tell you, when she was dancing… watching her was a pure bliss”

Cordelia couldn’t help the smile on her face. Listening to Gerald was probably the nicest thing that happened to her that day.

“She’s gifted”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s like you…”

“You mean she’s a witch?”

Gerald nodded.

“And where is she now?”

“She died a few years ago and ever since then things seem to keep falling apart, especially for Y/N. Now she’s the one who takes care of everything and everyone. She’s our star. People come here just to watch her…”

You seemed so mysterious and Cordelia kind of liked it. You were a mystery woman, almost like a phantom. Her own enigma. 

“And to think she almost became one of the Castle’s. Ahh, memories… Anyway, what were you asking about?” Gerald’s voice brought her back to earth

“I… I was asking where I can find her”

“Oh, she should be in her studio. I can ask Adam to take you there”

“No, no, no” Cordelia protested, repulsed by the idea “I’ll find her on my own, but thank you”

“Whatever you need, Miss Goode”

-

Cordelia managed to find the studio quicker than she thought she would, but she didn’t enter. She stood in front of the building suddenly engulfed by uncertainty. Why was she even doing it? Why did she want to meet you? Maybe she didn’t really want to know what happened? If only she knew what was that something dragging her to you, maybe then she could just walk away. But she didn’t. She didn’t know what it was and so she didn’t walk away.

She could hear a music coming from inside and noticed a slightly ajared window. Taking a look wasn’t a crime, right? She thought to herself coming closer. Peeking seemed to be just slightly inappropriate and maybe a bit disturbing. But only a bit. Just one look - it wasn’t that much. It wasn’t any invasion of privacy. It wasn’t illegal either. It was just Cordelia’s inner curiosity, that you awaken. Whether it was reasonable or not, Cordelia was standing there, unable to walk away.

There you were - laying on the floor with a cold pack on your head. 

“Uhhh. Shut the fuck up!” you growled standing up

Cordelia watched your every move. You slowly came to the stereo and turned the volume up. You closed your eyes taking a deep breath. It seemed to be your way of tuning into the music, because soon you began moving to the beat. Cordelia watched you dancing again, though this time she was sober and you were there alone. You looked tired. You were a bit sweaty, your top was sticking to your body and a few strands of your a bit damp hair were sticking to your face. But despite it you were still dancing.

Cordelia felt like she could watch you like that for a whole day. Only then Gerald’s words hit her for real. He was talking about your grandma, but apparently it was something that run in your family - watching you was a pure bliss. 

Watching you swaying with your hands above your head - one could think that dancing wasn’t hard at all. You made it seem so easy. And she was entranced. It felt as if her mind was spiraling. Sinking in the temptation to know you, to feel you, to touch you.

Cordelia wished she could stay there just to admire, but more and more people started appearing - as their course with you was about to start. And so the Supreme made her way back to her room. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Elliot. Cordelia bumped into him and was forced to come back to not so delightful reality.

“You really want to meet her, huh?”

Cordelia nodded looking at him. And if Eliot did pay attention he would probably notice a little blush on her cheeks.

“You’re quite stubborn, but that’s good. It’s not easy to get to her”

“Any advices?”

“Don’t disturb her while she’s working and if you want to keep her, you better know how to dance”

“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind. So, when does she usually end work?”

“That’s a good question. Listen, we’re having dinner tonight… Y/N will be there, so you can come and talk to her if it’s really that important to you”

“Thank you”

“Oh no no. Don’t thank me and forget this conversation happened. She’d kill me”

“Then… why are you doing this?”

“Do I know? You just seem nice and already have that effect on her. Who knows maybe you’re the one”

-

Cordelia couldn’t help the smile that remained on her face for the rest of the day. She was filled with the kind of excitement she hadn’t felt for a long time and she couldn’t say why she felt that way. She didn’t know you and yet she was longing for you. Longing for that power you were supplying. The kind of magic she couldn’t even name. All that she knew was that you made her recall the thing that was gone from her. She was moved. Moved in the ways she had never been before. It felt funny, but it would be a lie if she said she didn’t like that feeling, that thrill. It was divine.

She didn’t know what to expect and if she even could expect anything. But despite it she made sure she looked presentable. She definitely failed to make a good first impression, she did realize it, and so she wanted to at least try to make up for it. Cordelia was sure all her nervousness was gone, but as she made it to the given place the feeling of uneasiness was back. But she was an open-minded woman. She was the Supreme and there was nothing she couldn’t take, right?

The place wasn’t as fancy as the whole hotel, but it was its crowning glory, the biggest asset. It was so cozy and had that nice aura, that made her relax as soon as she entered. She walked down the long corridor, towards the sound of conversations. She made it to a big room, but before she made her entrance she heard your voice.

“What is she doing here?” suddenly all the eyes were on her, everyone stared at her - everyone except for you. You sat there, among a group of people, your friends probably. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Well, I guess she’s here for you, bug” Elliot stated

“You don’t say!” you rolled your eyes at him and put down your knife and fork

The Supreme was frozen in her place. She didn’t move even a bit, waiting for what you’d do next or just any sign at all.

“We’ll leave the two of you alone” Elliot said standing up, giving the others a signal to follow him “We’ll see you later, at the party”

You nodded looking at your plate. Cordelia waited for the rest to make their leave, before approaching you and sitting opposite. You didn’t say anything and neither did she. You just sat there in complete silence. 

Cordelia watched as you began eating again, completely ignoring her presence. A small grin appeared on her face. She wasn’t used to watching girls close to your age eating, not like that at least. They all seemed to have really tiny appetites and rarely eat together, almost as if they were ashamed of it. And you - you weren’t even slightly bothered by her presence and kept chewing on your food. It was such a simple thing, but she found it absolutely adorable. She watched you for a moment, before taking a notice of your mug. There wouldn’t be anything extraordinary about the vessel if it hadn’t been for a teaspoon in it. The teaspoon that was stirring the beverage itself. Cordelia smirked at that small sign of your powers. 

“So… you’re a witch” she stated and watched as you swallowed hard before replying

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

Instead of arguing and giving all her reasons to proved her point, Cordelia only glanced at the mug - drawing your attention to it. You immediately placed your hand on it, making the teaspoon stop. You straightened up and looked at her.

“What do you want?” you asked examining her face

Cordelia already knew that you could see right through her and that made her even more nervous.

“First of all I want to thank you for helping me yesterday. And... I want to apologise"

"What for?" 

“My behaviour?”

“What kind of behavior do you mean? Your attempt to flirt or creeping earlier this day?”

Your response definitely wasn’t what she had expected. 

“I…” she couldn’t even find the right words. She didn’t know what she should say. How was she supposed to explain her spying on you? As she sat there and thought about it, she realized it was kind of disturbing and pretty weird actually. Cordelia began nervously playing with the rings on her fingers. She looked everywhere, but your eyes. Could things get even more embarrassing than that? Well… yes. They could and they did.

“Where did that bold Supreme ready to help me with getting laid down go, hmm?” you teased standing up and moving towards one of the windows.

Cordelia’s eyes widened. She had absolutely no idea what you were talking about.

“I… I guess I was just curious” Cordelia gulped watching as you lit a cigarette 

“Don’t you know that curiosity can get you in trouble, Miss Supreme?” you asked pulling at your cigarette

Cordelia slowly stood up and followed you to the window. She stopped right next to you - leaning against a windowsill.

“I couldn’t help myself. You just seem to be quite interesting person”

“As a matter of fact, Miss Supreme” you starter pulling at the cigarette again “I’m exactly the kind of girl you would not be interested in” you finished letting out a puff of smoke

“I beg to differ”

You raised your eyebrow as she moved closer. Your eyes locked with hers, as Cordelia leaned in -  dangerously close to your face. Your gaze shifted to her hand, when she took the cigarette from you, her delicate fingers gently brushing against yours. She brought it to her lips, your eyes followed the movement of her hand. Cordelia put the cigarette in her mouth, glaring at you - still focused , intently observing her actions. She was waiting for your reaction, but your face remained unreadable. You seemed so stoic… until she pulled at the cigarette. Her eyes filled with tears as the smoke tickled, irritated her throat. She tried to hold it back, she couldn’t. Cordelia choked. She began coughing abruptly. A few tears escaped her eyes and flew down her cheeks - breaking the tension. That didn’t go as planned.

You chuckled watching her the tears with her palm. It was hilarious, but also kind of adorable. The way she tried to get your attention and impress you so badly. And why? What for? You were nothing special. There was nothing you could possibly offer her. She probably already had everything anyway.

Cordelia took a few deep breaths - trying to ease the weird feeling, to get rid of that kinda bitter, awful taste in her mouth. So embarrassing. She looked down, refusing to meet your eyes.

You pretended you didn’t hear her thoughts and smiled sympathetically. You felt bad, maybe even a bit guilty - knowing it was her attempt of getting your attention. You slowly leaned in, the same way she did before. Cordelia looked at you again. She glared at you expectantly.

“Smoking is not your thing, Miss Supreme” you said taking the cigarette from her

Cordelia crossed her arms across herself once again watching you exhale a puff of smoke, before you stubbed the cigarette on the ashtray.

You moved ready to walk away and get back to your routine, though something made you stop. You couldn’t stand seeing her so perplexed, biting on her lip nervously. She got so shy around you that you couldn’t help and wanted nothing more, but to take care of her, embrace and hide from the whole world as if she was the most precious thing you had ever seen.

“If anything...” you spoke up drawing her attention back to yourself one more time “it was adorable. Yes, maybe a bit embarrassing, but still cute as fuck” you winked at her, seeing a small smile forming on her face.

You mirrored her smile and for a moment, just a few seconds her eyes lit up.

“Come on, you still owe me a dance, Miss Supreme”

Tag list: @midnight-lestrange​, @natasha-danvers​, @stopkillinglilyrabe​, @welshdragonrawr​, @saucy-sapphic​, @yang12e​

[akitokihojo]

Chasing the Seasons - Cruel Summer’s Epilogue

And there you have it, folks. I have literally no self control. :)

Have an epilogue almost half the length of the original story. Thanks for reading!

––––––––––

It was hard. It was impossible not to think of each other throughout the entirety of every single, passing day.

Maybe it was a blessing, but within the week of returning from their trip, Kagome was thrown right back into the swing of things. She had to scramble to buy the two books she still needed - one she got lucky with, the other she had to purchase from an overpriced seller on eBay, get any other necessary items for the term ahead, make sure all registration was properly done, and get herself re-acclimated to a generally normal sleeping schedule. She stayed busy. Busy enough not to constantly wonder how Inuyasha was fairing. But, unfortunately, that never prevented her from incessantly checking her phone.

The habit came on quickly and was difficult to kill off. In her spare moments to breathe came her opportunities to light up the notifications page. Even in class, jotting down notes, listening to the professor drone on and on, Kagome just couldn’t stop herself from tapping her phone’s screen to see if she’d missed anything while her cellphone sat directly next to her notebook. There was nothing to expect, she was aware of this. She was forewarned of their unaligned schedules. She was aware they weren’t in a relationship. This was what they’d tried to prevent; the thick feeling of unintentional dejection that clung to the insides of their chests like tar.

Was it ironic that Kagome was still knocked down to her ass? No. She wasn’t sure irony was the right definition of this. The truth was, unknowingly so, she and Inuyasha had contradicted themselves from the start. It was all innocent in the moment, wanting to soak up every minute with your soulmate until you couldn’t anymore. Trying to make the best of a given situation. It made sense then. Hell, she even knew this was going to hurt when they had to part, but no one could have ever prepared her for the aftermath.

See, it wasn’t a relationship the two should have planned to avoid, even if it was for the sake of ease. The moment they connected with each other, they were set in stone. That’s not your typical, monogamous relationship. What Sango and Miroku had, what they’d worked to build - that was a relationship. They chose each other. But, fate chose Inuyasha for Kagome. That red string tied their souls together, one half fulfilling the other, so what they had was an irrevocable, irreversible, and irreplaceable bond. They had a companion. A partner. Yes, all synonym’s for a “relationship,” but vastly different in context. A relationship you could turn off. You could end it. You could do so by bitterly cutting ties, or mutually understanding things weren’t working. You couldn’t do that with a soulmate, though. Having a soulmate is the universe’s way of saying, “Hey, I made this person for you. They’re pretty and nice. You’ll like them, I promise. You’ll like them so much, you’ll literally never feel whole without them once you meet. It’s not a flaw in the design, trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

In other words, the distress they wanted so badly to avoid, the obligation they felt toward one another, it was all entirely inevitable. What they, instead, should have done was prepared their minds and bodies to have to adjust to the emptiness. Because, eventually it would dull. Eventually, it did dull. The ride to that point, though, was nothing short of crippling.

He wished he’d known exactly what to say when he’d discovered who she was, what she was bound to mean to him. He wished he’d understood the conflict in his argument and how he was so wrong. A part of him even wished they’d never met. Not yet, at least. Much like how he’d originally hoped she hadn’t dreamt of him so he could carry the burden alone and find her in the future. He was insane. Absolutely, confoundingly mental. Since when had he developed a glass heart? The moment he heard her laugh, saw her in that dress, spoke to her, felt the powerful pull toward her. That’s when. He’d say it was the moment they kissed, because logically, that was the exact moment it happened, but he had to be real with himself. If he’d turned away and ignored her presence from the start, there was still a part of him, a significantly smaller part but a part nonetheless, that would have felt lost. Lost was still better than broken, though.

Inuyasha had decided after the second week that he was going to pull away. In the moment, he understood the rationality behind it. It was to deaden the senses toward one another. It would make it easier in the long run. They’d grow used to the other hardly being there, they’d go about their lives, they’d get excited when one of them popped up on the other’s phone for a quick and friendly check in because it was so rare, then go about their business. Wash, rinse, repeat until the day they could properly reunite. It had to happen. He was miserable, and even though she wasn’t saying anything, he knew she was, too. That was after two weeks. Fourteen days without the other. He kept checking his phone, he was physically fighting the urge to call her, he was forcefully throwing himself into his work so he wouldn’t continuously consider dropping it all to run off with her before it was too late. So, it only made sense to cut the chord. This wouldn’t work if he didn’t. This would only drive them crazy and encourage the ache that lived in their chests to rampantly deepen as if it owned them.

Oh, was he so fucking wrong.

Everything worsened. So bad, he felt sick sometimes. He’d wake up at three in the morning with the heaviest sadness climbing the walls of his stomach and threatening to make him vomit. His lungs sometimes acted as if they couldn’t hold a full inhale of air anymore, and his exhales were shallow and dry. He was angry. Always angry. He had a short temper to begin with, but even he would catch himself on occasion and realize he needed to chill. His work was being affected negatively, his appetite was shot, sleep gradually became a thing of the past, and as the main turmoil seemed to dwindle after a while and he felt dull, listless, he became known as “cold” around his immediate peers. He detested himself. He could see it clearly, but it was so difficult to correct his demeanor when he didn’t have much ambition to do self work on top of his professional labor. He was becoming Sesshomaru. 

He’d sunken. Deeper than his bitterness. He’d sunken so far, it was laughable. The answer was right in front of his face. Clear as day. This was his doing. He was the cause of his own misery. Why would he ever think creating a larger distance from her was a good idea? She wasn’t your average girl he had a nice conversation with and would eventually like to see again. She was a being literally born for his sake. And, he was born for hers.

Two months and four agonizing days later, and Inuyasha had finally come to his senses. He couldn’t continue this. He just couldn’t. What he’d done was essentially attempt to withdraw his soul from the match until it was suitable for him. He’d attempted to go against fate, and fate was giving him the hell he deserved. He could only hope Kagome didn’t feel the weight of his idiotic mistake, too. It was bad enough picturing her feeling alone in this, because it’s not like he was acting as much support, but imagining her crushed with withdrawal pain as well was just something he couldn’t live with.

Inuyasha could have texted. He could have called. He sat staring at his phone for hours, a murky liquid sloshing in his chest as if a clogged drain kept the remnants of this toxicity from leaving his body. Text messaging wouldn’t suffice. It would do nothing for him at this point. A phone call would be better; he’d at least be able to hear her voice. Still, it wasn’t good enough. The only thing that would be was seeing her beautiful features with his own eyes. He felt so horrible. Awful. He thought life’s plan would be his enemy, but truthfully, it was him. He was his enemy. This was his fault. And, if she didn’t answer, he deserved nothing less.

Kagome gently tapped her finger against a key on her keyboard, not quite pressing into it, just hitting her nail against the plastic square for the sound as she sorted out her thought process before typing out the next sentence of her report. Her laptop screen was split in two; one side her Word document, about eight hundred words into a three thousand word minimum assignment, and the other side her internet browser with multiple tabs open to fully cover the topic. Add to that with her iTunes playlist minimized in the corner and running through, and the open notebook at her side with her scribbled notes from her previous lectures in this class, and she was completely in the zone. So much so, that when her Mac started chiming with an incoming FaceTime call, her phone coming alive with the same, loud notification - that was really just overkill - Kagome jolted with a startled gasp. 

Then her heart sunk into her abdomen. Both pleasantly and disturbingly. This was her first time hearing from Inuyasha in weeks, and her first time seeing him since she left for home. 

Quickly, Kagome pulled her hair out of its messy bun, scrunching her unruly waves and running her fingers through her self-cut bangs. She could only hope her face was looking okay at the moment, because she really didn’t have much more time to make herself look presentable before she missed the call entirely. As she paused her music and answered, she held her breath, waiting for the connection to set. Inuyasha’s face appeared on her laptop screen, his mouth covered by the sides of his curled fingers that he’d comfortably rested against, but she could clearly see the corner of his lips curve and his cheeks slightly push up when he smiled at seeing her. And, she sighed out happily.

He was in a dimly-lit room, his chest bare and birthmark visible at the very bottom of the camera. His silver hair was hued with the temperature of the rosy lighting, one of the ears atop his head giving a tiny flick at the sound of her joyful giggle. God, she’d missed him.

“There you are.” He softly rumbled, amber eyes gazing at her with adoration, and he dropped his hand, his expression reading one of subtle relief.

“Hi.” Kagome whispered, too elated to speak clearly. “How are you?”

Inuyasha held up a finger with a soft hum to quiet her. “Give me a minute. Stand up.”

Wordlessly, Kagome scrunched her nose bemusedly, her smile hardly faltering.

“I need to make sure you’re in one piece. Stand up.” The hanyou said clearly, raising his brows expectingly.

She replied with a gentle laugh, rolling her desk chair back and standing up for him.

He took as much of her in as he could, as much as the camera allowed. Her long, black hair, her gorgeous face, her neck, her shoulders that were donned in a green, flannel shirt that was a little too large for her and hung to about mid-thigh, the black tank top underneath, the short pajama bottoms that hardly covered much but looked comfortable as all hell, the thighs he loved so goddamn much. She was there. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to be able to physically feel her right now, to hold her.

When Kagome felt like he’d had enough, she sat back in her chair, pulling herself up close to her desk. “Good?”

“Good enough,” He said. “What are you doing? Are you busy?”

“No.” She fervently shook her head.

“Are you on your laptop or phone?”

“Laptop.”

“You’re doing homework, aren’t you?” Inuyasha chuckled, leaning his head to the side with a cock of his brow.

“Yes, but it’s not due until Friday. Don’t worry.” She quickly assured, not wanting him to think he was interrupting anything important. Of the classes she was currently registered in, this one ranked low in the difficulty aspect. The assignments were just tedious. Truthfully, even if it was important, she’d gladly push it aside for him.

He wasn’t going to try and argue against that. If she could talk, he was going to take it. This wasn’t the moment to be cautious, this was the moment to try and heal. “What time is it there?”

“A little passed eight. What about you? Are you in Europe?”

“Yeah. In London. It’s, uh, a little passed four here.”

“In the morning!?” Kagome pressed, inching slightly closer to her screen in exasperation.

He laughed, lazily running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”

“What time do you have to work?”

“Gotta be there by seven. Don’t waste your breath telling me to go to sleep, I’m not hanging up until I’m good and ready.” Inuyasha stated, leveling Kagome with a stare that brought her to close her mouth. He could tell by the way her brown eyes fluttered downward, by the way she lightly pinched her lips together, by the way she glanced back up to him that she was silently grateful for his refusal. It was warming, but it increased the guilt he felt, and he couldn’t prevent the way it wavered his expression.

She’d caught it. Immediately, she’d noticed. “What’s wrong?” Her tone was soft, concerned.

“Nothing.” He dismissed. “How are you doing?”

“Inuyasha, what’s -“

“How are you doing?” He’d asked it in a way that told her he wasn’t looking for the broad aspect of her life in general. He was looking for how she was handling their separation, the ember in his eyes not quite glowing to their full potential, and she knew it wasn’t just the camera’s inability to capture their radiance. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to answer the way he wanted. If she thought about it, it hurt too bad. She didn’t want him to know that; she didn’t want him to try and shoulder the burden for himself.

“Well,” Kagome began with her tale. “I’ve been pretty busy with school. My internship doesn’t start until January, though, so I’m trying to appreciate the little downtime that I have right now. And, my classes this term aren’t so bad, they’re -“

“How are you doing?” Inuyasha inquired again, the words enunciated slowly, his tone progressively deepening with care.

“Busy.” She answered steadily. “Staying busy.”

He knew she was intentionally avoiding a direct answer. That bad, huh? 

“Tell me, Kagome.”

She swallowed thickly, a yank on her chest reminding her that she wasn’t all that okay. She missed him so much. So fucking much. How could she tell him that it hurt not talking to him? How could she apply that pressure on top of everything else he had going on right now? She just couldn’t. They knew this was coming, they knew they wouldn’t be totally available for each other, you just never know how bad it will feel until you’re experiencing it. She wasn’t allowed to expect anything from him, and she understood that, but being apart and not knowing when the gap will end created an emptiness that was indescribably difficult to manage.

The longer she let his question sit, though, the harder it became to keep her expression straight. She felt it before she could stop it, the crinkle of her brow and the frown on her lips, then her eyes began to burn with brimming tears and she swiftly leaned out of the frame of the FaceTime window.

He took a small opportunity to curse himself while she wasn’t looking, while she was busy guarding her tears from him; something she should never feel she had to do. “Come back.”

She hummed a no.

“Right now.” He ordered gently, his voice gruff.

“Don’t worry. I’m good.” Kagome laughed, seemingly at herself, the sound wet. The arm still in view moved as she sloppily wiped her face, still laughing, and when she sniffled, it even brought him to chuckle lightly as he rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Babe -“

“See.” She came back into the frame with a smile, her face red but cleared of tears. “I’m fine.”

Inuyasha bit his lip, his chuckle that time more on the dubious side. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?” She asked, her smile fading.

“Because, you’re not fine and this is because of me.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Shut up,” He shook his head to quiet her. “Just listen, okay? I really fucked up. I thought it would be best if I backed off so getting over the hump of this would be easier. I didn’t know where that would leave us, but I, for some stupid fucking reason, had convinced myself that it was necessary.”

“Did it help you? Feel better, at least?” Inuyasha could see the compassion in her eyes, in the way she worried her bottom lip, in the genuine tone she held.

“Not one bit. I’ve never felt worse, actually. I can’t do it. I can’t stay away from you.”

“Inuyasha, you have your career. It’s not wrong of you to try and detach from a stressful situation, because unfortunately, that’s what this is. There’s no way around that.” She stated directly.

“Stop trying to make me feel better.”

“Stop trying to blame yourself.”

“Stop trying to justify my actions for me, Kagome.”

“Stop trying to act like your actions were malicious. Unless they were?”

“No, of course -“

“Then, shut up.”

He blinked, surprised at the growing heat in her tone.

“It’s not that I’m trying to justify what you did, I just understand why you did it. I can’t be upset at you for that. In retrospect, it’s really not all that bad. You didn’t make a promise to me -“

“I made multiple.” Inuyasha argued, cutting her off. “I told you we’d still talk, I told you we’d still see each other.”

Kagome huffed, her exasperation rising. “I really, really don’t understand what you’re getting at here, Inuyasha. Why are you so upset with yourself when we left each other knowing this was going to suck? I certainly didn’t know what the right thing to do for us was. I still don’t! We have conflicting schedules and lives right now, and from the moment we found out we were soulmates, you warned me that this thing between us wasn’t going to immediately work out. So, why are you suddenly villainizing yourself? It’s like you want me to be mad at you!”

Inuyasha leaned his chin into his palm, his mouth covered by his fingers as his golden eyes drifted to stare at the surface his phone was placed upon. His heavy sigh was emphasized, but Kagome remained quiet, waiting him out, letting him gather his thoughts. When he was ready, her soulmate lowered his hand, but he never looked back at her, his expression almost communicating shame.

“I could have been doing more. That’s just it. I could have been doing more. I avoided more thinking it would help, and I avoided the bare minimum thinking it was right for the long run. I can’t stand the thought that your sadness is worse than what it has to be because of the route I took. So, yeah.” Inuyasha met her gaze. “Maybe you being mad at me is what I want, because I can fix that. Ultimately, I feel like I need to fix something. But, on top of that, I feel so fucking helpless and stuck, and like anything I choose to do is wrong.”

Kagome had figured out pretty early on that Inuyasha wasn’t the type to openly show his feelings. He was smooth, he was passionate, but he was subtle with his messages. And, early on, she realized she was the lucky one that got to experience this side of him. Especially now, she could see his guard lowering so she could fully understand what was going on in his head; something she felt, if she wasn’t his soulmate, she’d have to work very hard to see after a significant amount of time and a significant amount of trust was built. Inuyasha was, by nature, protective. And, she could tell he was hard on himself. So, when he feels like he failed to protect her from harm in any way, shape, or form, he’s going to jump to take the heat for it. When the blame is on him, he can compensate to rectify the situation, tend to your wounds, step up and do better, but that’s just not logical. If he continued to do that, he’d eventually run himself dry. Kagome understood what he was getting at with his decision, and yes, it hurt to a degree, but she still didn’t see him as a bad guy. It wasn’t his responsibility to make sure everything was okay. In fact, he had good intentions. 

“How can I help you right now? Tell me what you need to hear.” Kagome said evenly.

Inuyasha pondered for a moment, eyes flickering away and meeting hers again when he spoke. “Tell me the truth about how you’re doing. Don’t duck out of view. Be straight with me.”

She could already feel her eyes prickling with fresh tears, her face heating uncomfortably as she honed in on the emotions she’d swallowed over and over and over and over throughout the months. “I’m sad.” Her voice trembled, but she took in a deep breath to give him what he needed. “I’m really sad. I feel helpless, I feel stupid, I feel tired. I’m lonely.” She finally began to cry, and it took active effort not to hide it from him, terrified he’d feel responsible. “I miss you. And, I’m angry. I’m angry that we have to go through this in the first place, and all I want to do is call you so I can listen to you talk - and I don’t even care what the topic is or if you’re not even talking to me, but someone else - I just want to hear your voice. I don’t like that you’re upset, and I want to take it away from you just as much as you want to take it away from me, and not being able to is frustrating. But, if you expect me to blame you for any of this, that’s where you’ll succeed in making me mad at you. I know for a fact you would never intentionally do anything to hurt me, and you can’t get me to picture you in that light. Do I like that you stepped back? No. Of course, not. But, honestly, I didn’t even know it was an option to have more of you, so no harm - no foul. You tried, it didn’t work, and now you’re here. So, now what? Where do you want to go from here? What’s our next step?”

Inuyasha had been holding his breath, clenching his jaw shut as he digested Kagome’s powerful sincerity. At least twice during her admittance he’d considered buying the first available plane ticket to her, even if that meant he could only be there for an hour. He spoke on a whim, uncaring of the irrationality behind it if that’s how it appeared. He wasn’t going to listen to her pain and do nothing about it when, now, to him, the answer was obvious.

“We ditch our original idea that things won’t work until we’re done with our shit. When I said that, we’d just had our first night together. It didn’t sound sane then to jump into anything when we were confused, new to each other, and freaked the fuck out. Even as you left, it made sense to hold onto the idea to wait, but it’s just not working. The pull on our souls to be together is too strong.”

Kagome hastily wiped her face using the sleeves of her shirt, sniffling in an attempt to clear her emotions. “Inuyasha, we can’t drop what we’ve worked for. Especially you. I won’t let you.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying we manage a long distance relationship. I’m going fucking crazy over here, Kagome. Fuck the boundaries, fuck the time difference, fuck anything that works against us. Why are we putting ourselves through this? God, it doesn’t fucking make sense! This is so stupid! If you want to call me, call me! I’m yours! If you’re lonely, let me keep you company the best way that I can! If I want to see that gorgeous smile of yours, I’m fucking going to! I’ll learn your schedule, and I’ll work through mine for you. I will never be too busy to tell you that I love you, it’s as simple as that. We’ll make this as easy as possible, I don’t want it overwhelming you with classes -“

“No, screw easy.” Kagome objected with a brusque shake of her head. “I don’t want easy, I want you.”

“So, yes?” Inuyasha breathed, and it was evident it held the release of a substantial amount of tension he’d been harboring with for far too long now.

“Yes.” Kagome laughed with relief, her shoulders dropping. “Did you think I’d actually say no?”

“I don’t know. It’d be pretty stupid of you if you did.” He joked, chuckling. Fuck, the sound of her giggle was like the most wonderful song he’d ever heard. “God, I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Soon.” She whispered.

“Not soon enough.”

“Does this mean nothing has to hold us back from each other now? I can send you messages without worrying about bothering you, and -“

“Hey, woah, wait.” Inuyasha’s brows furrowed, a frown marring his face as he cocked his head to the side in question. “I told you not to hesitate before. You’d never bother me.”

“I know, but it was still kind of confusing. I just wanted to tread carefully. Especially since I wasn’t hearing from you, so sending you texts or pictures just didn’t seem appropriate.”

The hanyou dropped his head down to the table, the sound of the bang coming through loudly on the speakers, and his ears wilted slightly as he groaned dramatically. “You’re kidding me. How many pictures did I fucking miss out on!?”

“No! None!” Kagome frantically tried to dispel his aggravation, waving her hands before her even though he couldn’t look to see. “I’ve hardly taken any pictures, or looked remotely presentable to have anything to show off, I swear! It was just an example!”

“Fucking liar.” He grumbled.

“No, I’m not lying! See,” Kagome grabbed her phone from beside her, unlocking it with her thumbprint and opening the photos app. Inuyasha glanced up at her with a grimace, disdain for himself written all over his face, but she ignored it as she showed him the screen, mindlessly scrolling through while trying to see where she was at in the small window of herself on the FaceTime camera. “It’s all stupid screenshots I save for later or send to Sango. There’s a couple pictures of myself the day this term started, but those were for my mom because she collects first day of school pictures. Then, we’re back in summer vacation. And then, that’s all before we even met.”

“Hold it!” Inuyasha abruptly demanded. Kagome stopped scrolling, pulling back her phone to see what he was looking at. “Go back down.”

“Hm?” She questioned, putting the screen back up to him so he could guide how far back he wanted her to go as she slowly slid her finger along the glass of her phone.

“A little more. There. The blue shirt. Let me see that one.”

Again, Kagome glanced at her phone, selecting the image he was looking at as she felt her cheeks flush. It was just as the weather began warming up and she drove ten hours home to surprise her mom for her birthday. Rightfully, she’d done her makeup for the event, her hair, and wore a cute blouse that fell off her shoulders to reveal the few freckles littering her skin beneath. And, in the selfie she’d taken, she’d ruffled her loose curls further, the smile she wore was a little on the sultry side, and the light hit her chocolate eyes just right. With the hint of embarrassment, Kagome presented the picture to Inuyasha. His growing, crooked grin ignited a flurry within her stomach, the sensation quickly traveling through her chest and over the surface of her entire body.

“Send it to me.” He said huskily.

“What? You want this one?”

“Like that’s even a question. Send it over.”

Flattered, she complied, texting it to his number. His smile brightened, then his FaceTime screen paused as he picked up his phone from the table and clicked her text. Though she couldn’t see him anymore, she could still hear him, and his exhaled breath upon seeing her photo had her ready to melt into a puddle on the carpet beneath her seat. 

Inuyasha released a tantalizing chuckle, whispering a hoarse, “Fuck.”

“What?” Kagome giggled, her embarrassment increasing and her face growing hot.

“Just -“ He paused. “Fuck, baby.”

“Come back.”

“Hang on, I’m setting this as your contact picture. That way, whenever you text or call, this picture will pop up, and if anyone looks over at my phone, they’ll have a good moment to envy me when they realize what my girlfriend looks like.”

“Inuyasha!” She laughed, slapping her hands to her cheeks to hide the maddening blush.

“Hey, and that’s just your face.”

“Stop!”

“Man, if they saw your ass -“

“Inuyasha! Oh my god!”

He popped back onto her screen, setting his phone back where it had been with the most satisfied and cocky expression. 

“Send me one of you.” She said, shaking her head and laughing the humility off.

“I will. Later. Promise.”

“Are you feeling better now?” Kagome asked with a genuine tone, her smile unfaltering.

“Yes and no.” He answered honestly. “I’m not going to one hundred percent feel better until I’m back with you. But, at least I have you now.”

“You’ve had me all this time, Inuyasha. I would have waited for you for as long as you needed me to.” She swore she saw a tint of pink ripen his cheeks. “Are you going to try to at least sleep a little before work?”

“I don’t want to hang up yet.” He replied, his voice dying away with his empowering sincerity.

“I know you don’t need as much sleep as a human, but you still need some.”

“I’m not that tired.”

“Have you been sleeping well lately?”

“Why do you want me to hang up so bad?” Inuyasha chuckled lightly.

“I don’t. Not at all. I haven’t had my fill of you yet, either. But, I know you. When you get stuck in your head about something, you don’t sleep well. Now, there’s less to keep you up.” Kagome said, her tone as gentle as ever.

“You worry too much.” He dismissed with amusement. “Ten more minutes, then I’ll head to bed. Happy?”

He meant what he’d said as he spoke it, but it was impossible to remember the time as he continued to speak with her, made her laugh, witnessed her beautiful smile that had him smitten all over again. She helped him forget his grief from just moments before, she helped him feel like time hardly missed a beat with them. She told him she loved him before pushing him to go to sleep after a while, and his heart felt as if it sputtered elatedly.

From then on, they communicated as often as they possibly could. He memorized her schedule like the back of his hand the moment she’d graciously sent it to him, and if anything ever ended up changing, like a canceled class, a fever that kept her bed-ridden, or maybe she was staying out longer to get lunch or dinner with a friend, she’d never hesitate to tell him. Not so he knew not to bother her, because it wasn’t like that with them. Both of them were a wonderful priority to each other. He just liked knowing she was safe. He liked knowing when she was home and when she got home. There was literally only one part of her schedule he did not like, and he let it be known. Twice a week, she had to take a late class. It was with a small group, it was in a building on campus located far from the parking lot, and it got out at nine-forty-five in the evening. Meaning, twice a week, she was alone and vulnerable on a ten minute walk back to her car, then again at her apartment complex during the few minutes it took for her to get inside her place. She called him paranoid and he pridefully accepted it. He’d rather be labeled paranoid from his need to protect his girl than careless.

Since it wasn’t practical to even request for her to drop the class and see if it had a better timeframe next semester - especially given she was in her final year of college and the courses she had left were pretty much solidified - he had Kagome call him the moment she got out of class. She tried to argue that it was too late, or too early in his timezone, but he didn’t give a crap. He usually got up around six-thirty in the morning, five-thirty on the days he went to the gym. A five-fifty wakeup call wasn’t going to impede on anything, and it took him telling her over and over he’d stay up all night if it meant he got to make sure she was safe to get it through her head that the fight she was putting up was pointless.

Honestly, what better alarm than a call from Kagome? What stronger sense of productivity than to start his day by keeping his girl company as she ended hers. She had the audacity to call him with a normal voice call the first couple times around, but he quickly fixed that by swapping it over to FaceTime. As shadowed as she was in the night, he wanted to be there with her in the best way possible. He honestly didn’t like her being too distracted while she walked, but he couldn’t help but want to hear her talk. And, she’d let it accidentally slip one time that she was a sucker for the groggy voice he had early in the morning. Naturally, he’d milk that for all it was worth and tell her a little about his day prior. As soon as she’d reach her car, he’d remind her to check the backseats; which she really didn’t need to be reminded to do. Nine times out of ten, she was already doing it to make sure no one had broken in. Then, he’d stay on the line with her for the fifteen minutes it took her to drive home and find parking in her complex, and by the time she was inside her apartment, he was usually sipping the last of his morning coffee. On a good occasion, Kagome would walk into a madhouse and secretly flip the camera around to sneak in glimpses of her best friend frantically attempting to work on last minute assignments due by midnight while she was strung on ramen noodles and late night espresso shots she really shouldn’t be allowed. The hardest part was swallowing his laughter until Kagome was safely shut inside her room. And, the sweetest part came when she’d give him this cute as shit nose scrunch as she smiled and told him to have a good day while eagerly awaiting his cheesy, cliche, timezone-inhibited reply of, “Get some sleep. I love you.”

Her midterms were hard on her, and he tried to support her through them the best he could, but her finals of the first semester were proving to test her limits. She was busier than ever with studying and assignments, she was exhausted, and a couple times she’d called him having a minor breakdown just because she knew he’d be able to talk her down and get her back to thinking semi-rationally. It was common in overworked and drained minds to be hard on yourself, he knew as well as anyone else. With their schedules at their most hectic yet, him heading meetings and really grinding down on a shit place his company acquired, texts weren’t often seen until hours later. Calls were always answered because he knew that if she was calling, with their plates being as full as they were, it was serious, but texts were unfortunately unanswered until both of them were home and had a small moment to breathe. That’s when things began to really weigh on them again. It went unspoken. On both ends. But, if he could feel the stress of not being able to even say he loved her while she was awake, if he could feel the torture of missing her even more than he already had before, he knew she could, too.

With the utmost amount of tenderness, Inuyasha began to put together a surprise care package with as many things he thought she’d enjoy that would fit in the box. She was in the midst of her exams, he knew, but given she’d been able to get a couple out of the way already, she was bound for the remainder the following week, and then she was heading home for Christmas break, he wanted to get this out to her as soon as possible. He was just missing one major component.

As he returned to his loft at the end of his long day, he texted Kagome to see if she was busy, and within the minute she responded saying she wasn’t. Stealing the opportunity, Inuyasha FaceTimed her, the call swiftly answered with the usual chime of the video connection. A laugh rose from his throat that he couldn’t swallow in time. The camera was angled downward on what he assumed was her laptop, exposing Kagome blinking sleepily as she laid stomach-down on the purple comforter of her bed, an arm rested beneath her temple as a pillow and a tired smile appearing on her lips.

“You just said you weren’t busy.” Inuyasha said, loosening the tie around his collar.

“I’m not.” Kagome giggled. “As you can see, I’m clearly doing nothing.”

“You’re napping.”

“I was simply resting my eyes.” She coolly stated, her brown eyes fluttering closed for a small moment.

“Were you studying?” Inuyasha chuckled, removing the tie entirely and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt with his free hand, finally feeling a little more comfortable.

“No, I was working on an essay. But, then the words started to blur together, and nothing made sense anymore, and next thing I knew, I was laying down.”

“Move the camera, I can’t see your whole face.” Without missing a beat, Kagome used her non-pillow hand to scoot her laptop a little to the left. God, even as spent as she was, she still looked breathtaking. Inuyasha smiled, sitting down on the couch and taking her in while she seemed so peaceful. “Perfect. You’re so beautiful.”

“Shut up.” She grumbled playfully. “Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. Before I forget to ask, can you do me a favor?”

“Only if you talk in your British accent.”

“That was a one time deal, dummy.”

“Again.” Her tone was cute, and her nose scrunched in the manner that usually suckered him into anything. She even pushed herself to prop up her chin so she looked more awake, adjusting the camera accordingly, her elbow sinking into the thick blanket beneath her.

“I was drunk when I agreed to it in the first place.” He feebly attempted to argue, rolling his amber eyes.

“Take a shot!” Kagome encouraged.

“I’m not doing it.” He chuckled.

“Please?”

“Nope.”

“Please?” She pushed on with her adorable voice, making it smaller, dragging out the word. 

Inuyasha sucked in an inhale, flexing his jaw in an attempt to resist her. With every ounce of willpower her had, he shook his head to tell her no, exhaling his strain and smiling as he slid his tongue over his canine tooth. With a defeated huff and a pout, Kagome gave in.

“Fine. What do you want?” She asked teasingly.

“Your address.”

“Hm? You don’t have that?”

“I’ve never needed it before.” He laughed, the evidence of her groggy brain coming through.

“Oh?” She piqued, cocking a sly brow. “And, what would you happen to need it for now?”

“I’ve got something for you.”

“A Christmas present?”

“No. Your Christmas gift will be sent separately. This is just a gift.”

“What is it?” Kagome asked excitedly.

“None of your business.” He chuckled. “Send me your address.”

“So bossy.” She joked, grabbing her phone from beside her computer and sending him what he’d requested.

“Got it. Thanks, babe. You can go back to sleep now.”

“Wait, no. Don’t go yet.” Her eyes had grown larger, almost pleading, and Inuyasha had to wonder if she could ever give him an expression he wasn’t utterly weak for. “Unless you’re busy, then I totally understand.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do right now than stay on the phone with you, baby.” He grinned, his heart thundering as she beamed brightly and pushed herself to sit up for him.

Kagome came home from her final exam of the semester - of the year, really, considering when they returned from break, it’d be after New Years - feeling pumped for finally having everything out of the way while simultaneously ready for the longest nap of her life. All she needed to do was proofread her very last paper and press submit by tomorrow, and she was ready to head home for Christmas. 

She’d stopped at Starbucks for a celebratory peppermint cappuccino, in light of the holiday, grabbing one for Sango while she was at it, because the poor girl was still knee deep in two of her remaining projects. As she entered their apartment, her best friend popped out from the little kitchen entry, clearly not intending to scare the shit out of her, but doing so in her powerful excitement.

“Hi! You got a package in the mail!” Sango shouted, a packet of spaghetti noodles held in her grip.

Kagome clutched her chest over her heart with her free hand, lucky she didn’t drop the carrier of their hot drinks all over the place in her terror. “How many?”

“Noodles? I don’t know, I mean I’ve never tried to count -“

“Espresso shots!”

“Oh. Oh! I don’t want to talk about it.” Sango swiftly dismissed, grimacing.

“How many!?”

“Enough to give an elderly man a heart attack, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, I’m gonna kill Miroku for getting you that thing.” Kagome seethed, finally recovering and dropping her bag by the tiny dining room table.

“Is that a coffee for me I see?” Sango sang, dancing her way over to her best friend.

Kagome groaned, taking her drink out of the carrier and begrudgingly handing it to the over-caffeinated girl. “A mistake.”

“Thanks, friend!” She squeaked. “Open your package, I want to see what’s in it! I saw a familiar name written on top!” Again, she was singing, more so to be teasing this time but Kagome only laughed.

“Did you mean, mine?”

“No! Oh my god, it’s on the coffee table.”

Kagome’s attention turned, noticing for the first time a decently-sized, brown box waiting for her in the living room. Sauntering over, she looked at the labels, Inuyasha’s name and return address sitting in the upper-left corner. Truthfully, she’d forgotten to expect anything from him, the thought of a gift pushed to the back of her mind by her insane schedule.

She flicked up the packing tape with her nails, peeling it from the top and opening the package to reveal several things waiting for her inside. She grabbed for the shirt folded nicely and crammed on the side. At first glance, it seemed large and comfy, but then when she turned it over to see the band name on front, she realized it was one of his favorite, old shirts he’d worn while they were together. Instantly, she pursed out her bottom lip in adoration, hugging it close.

“Wait, there’s a letter!” Sango pointed gleefully, sipping her coffee as she watched Kagome open her gift.

Kagome gently placed the shirt over the rim of the box, grabbing for the folded paper to open it and see a little letter written in her love’s handwriting. 

A couple notes as you open this:

– Snacks for your downtime.

– A new heating pad for your cramps since I fucking KNOW you haven’t gotten rid of that shitty one yet.

– Vanilla body spray from a little shop out here, because I know you like that scent. And, I like it on you.

– Two of my shirts. They smell like me. Wear them to bed and I’ll be right there with you. Send me pictures in them, too. I mean it.

– Chapstick, because you go through that shit like crazy. It’s the kind you like, don’t freak out.

– The last one is self explanatory. Open it. Put it on. Tap it three times.

Kagome had to resist hugging the piece of notebook paper to her chest, wanting to hold the sweet gesture as close to her as possible but refusing to crinkle the page. She gently placed it on the table, moving the shirt she’d already looked at to the side and grabbing for the other one. It was another band tee, a little less worn than the other but his homing scent radiating from it and bringing tears to prickle at her eyes. She bunched beneath her nose, really taking it in while she fought to hold her composure, too happy for words.

Finally setting it aside, she reached for the cute bottle of body spray, taking a little whiff of the perfume that smelled so sweet before setting it down and reaching for the little packet of chapstick, giggling along with Sango. He’d sent over a package of chocolate chip cookies, and two bags of chips she’d never had before but she was excited to try tonight, having already planned on putting on a movie and vegging out. The new heating pad made her laugh again, the box in pristine condition. Then, lastly, a small, blue and purple, gradient-blurred box sat alone in the package, the image of two wrist bands posted on the front.

Kagome carefully opened it, greeted with a black bracelet of sorts as she removed it completely from the packaging, the top of it harboring a small, oval widget.

“What is it?” Sango asked.

“I don’t know. He told me to put it on and tap it three times.” Kagome shrugged, handing it to Sango so she could strap it securely around her left wrist. As it was fastened, Kagome went ahead and tapped her finger to the face of the device, watching a thin strip of blue light illuminate over the surface she touched.

It was hardly thirty seconds later that her phone began to ring, Inuyasha’s contact picture filling the screen. Shocked and joyous, Kagome lunged to answer her phone.

“Hi!”

“You got it.” He hummed, the soft sound of chatter and passing cars filtering through in the background.

“How’d you know?”

“Still haven’t figured it out yet?” At her lack of an answer, Inuyasha chuckled. “Okay, are you wearing it?”

“Yeah.”

Three slow vibrations tickled the part of her wrist beneath the oval device, a purple light shining with each sensation. Kagome’s jaw dropped with her breathy gasp, pure bliss written all over her face. “Oh my god, was that you!?”

“Yup.” He laughed.

“You tapped it three times!?”

“Yup.”

“It’s like I can feel you!” She was so happy, so absolutely euphoric to receive some form of touch from her soulmate, her tummy fluttering wildly and body enticingly warm. There was no fighting the tears that flooded her eyes, her heart so wonderfully full.

“Are you crying?” He chuckled as she sniffled.

“Shut up!” She laughed. “I love it all so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, baby. This way, whenever we miss each other but are too busy to talk, we can just give this thing a few taps and we’ll literally feel it. Especially, since you’ll be starting your internship next month. This thing’s really gonna come in handy.”

Kagome gave out a pouty whimper, grabbing his shirts and curling up on the couch to hold them close. “I just love you so much. Thank you.” She playfully whined.

“I love you, too.” He laughed.

“I can’t believe you gave me your favorite shirt.”

“I can’t believe you’re about to send me a ton of pictures in it.” He countered, his tone completely serious.

“With or without pants?”

“Slut.” Sango joked, walking away and downing her hot beverage.

“What do you think?”

“With or without a bra?”

“Fuck.” He whispered, taken. It was a thin, white shirt. If she wore it well and wore it right, he might be able to catch a glimpse of something he was sorely aching for.

“Got it.” She teasingly said. “Are you out and about right now? It’s kind of late there, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’m at a bar with some friends. Stepped outside to call you.”

“Are you having fun?”

“Not as much fun as I’d be having with you.”

“Go back inside,” Kagome giggled. “Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome.” He breathed, content.

“Let me know when you get home safe, please.”

“I will.”

“British accent?”

“Not drunk enough.” Inuyasha laughed.

“Dang it! Okay, love you. Bye.”

“Love you.”

Winter break was relaxing and necessary for a reset, and whenever Inuyasha wanted to text, call, or FaceTime, she was available for him. Their bracelets didn’t get much use then, but Kagome still refused to take it off unless it needed to charge. Once she got back into the swing of school for her very last term, was introduced to her internship and the responsibility she held, was thoroughly buried in homework she struggled to catch up on during her off days, that’s when they came through.

If she ever tapped it, he was incredibly fast to respond with touches of his own, as if he was right there for support. She adored him. He was so amazing. He was so kindhearted and good. Her favorite time to receive those sensations from him were late at night, sometimes while she was dozing. There was nothing better than being woken by sweet vibrations from the love of her life who was just getting started on his own routine on his side of the world. He woke up thinking about her, and there was no better feeling. And, if she was ever looking for a little excuse to hear his voice, she’d send him three taps in the dead of night. The best time was between two and three in the morning. The first time she’d done it, she’d come out of a nightmare. As soon as she’d opened her eyes in the darkness of her bedroom, she’d immediately forgotten the happenings of which, but she was still awake, still slightly shaken, and still looking for a smidge of comfort. She tapped three times, he tapped back, and she sank into her bedding happily. But, then her phone started chiming with a FaceTime call from him. She reached up, flicking on the lamp on her bedside table and answered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, donned in his business attire and sitting at a desk, the look of concern etched on his face.

“Hm?” Her voice was rusty but small, the vaguest, confused grimace on her lips.

“Why are you awake?” He chuckled, slightly recovering.

“I had a bad dream.” Kagome pouted. “I just wanted to touch you. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His grin was tender. “I was worried something had happened. Are you okay now?”

“I’m okay, I promise.”

“Go back to sleep, baby. I’m right here if you need anything.”

God, it was so serene to hear that. And, she lapped it up, realizing that he’d reach out to see that she was fine if he noticed she was up at an off time. She was often awake super late working on assignments, or studying when a test was approaching. Only a couple times had she actually gone out with friends - which he was typically aware of. But, if it had been a little while since she’d last done it - because, he’d catch on if she did it too often - she’d send him some sensations, waiting for her own in reply, and then her phone would light up with a call from him to check on her.

Around spring break, blessed spring break, she was packing up to head home again. She was just two weeks away from completing her four month internship, and her wonderful, gracious, brilliant supervisor arranged it so she could work them when spring break ended, so she could see her family for the allotted time off. Her younger brother was interviewing for a couple of colleges, utilizing their grandfather’s connections to their fullest capacities, and her mom thought it would be a good idea to make it an entire family outing. As far as she knew, they were going to Connecticut, and though she wasn’t sure what all there was to do out there, she was still just looking forward to the event.

Inuyasha rolled his golden eyes as his brother droned on and on, hoping the motion wasn’t too obvious behind the restaurant menu. The idiot literally flew him out for a lunch meeting. A lunch meeting. The U.K. to Chicago for a lunch meeting. Maybe this was a glimpse at his future when he took partnership at the company, maybe this was intended to be purposeful toward his increasing leadership roles, or maybe Sesshomaru made it a hobby to waste peoples’ time. Honestly, he was willing to bank on the first suggestion, and even the second - his spite just sprouted the third, but it was hard to tell with his non-communicative brother. Everything was basically just left up to surprise.

Only once in the last fifteen minutes had he been addressed, and everything else Sesshomaru discussed had basically nothing to do with him, nor was it information anyone at the table would necessarily deem valuable. After the redeye flight he’d sat on, the dull walkthrough of the facility Sesshomaru was currently whipping into shape, and the headache Jaken was causing just by existing, all Inuyasha wanted was a fat lunch to make it all worth it. Also, he’d pay someone to tell his brother that not every update needed to be a fucking meeting.

Knowing they were still ages away from ordering anything more than water, Inuyasha propped his cheek in his palm, glancing out the window he sat next to. His golden eyes mindlessly swept over passing people, the charming, cobblestone street a good home for boutiques and cafe’s to attract attention. Older women wore smiles as they chatted with their companions, men walked hand-in-hand with their partners, young girls filtered into shops, and Kagome’s bright grin as she picked on the guy next to her even managed to clear the annoyed frown from his face.

His heart stopped. Kagome? What the fuck?

There was an exhilarating jolt that coursed through his body, his heart remembering it’s purpose and pumping powerfully against his ribcage as he studied the girl as best as he could from where he sat. Was it her? Long, black hair, slim figure, kind of short - he’d groan loudly if he could have from his building agitation. These were all general factors of identification. He needed to see her face or hear her voice.

Turn around. Turn the fuck around.

And, as if she sensed his need, she twirled around as they continued on, her smile as beautiful as ever in the dress she donned as she spoke with the elderly man behind her, walking backward to keep up. It was her.

It was Kagome.

As calmly as he possibly could, which was a feat on its own, he whispered into his brother’s ear that he needed to check in on something with his own facility. Work-related meant there was a good chance Sesshomaru wouldn’t gripe. His brother gave him an empty stare, and Inuyasha pressed that it was important, to which Sesshomaru gave a nod of approval and momentarily dismissed him to slip outside. The second his foot was out the door, the hanyou bolted, chasing after that sweet scent of hers that he could pinpoint anywhere. They couldn’t have gotten too far, she had an old geezer on her tail. Still, the further down the road he got, the more narrow and crowded the street became. 

A huge part of him couldn’t even believe they were so close to one another right now. It was hard to digest; hard to understand that this was real. His heart was pounding, his stomach was in a violent flurry, his fingers were shaking with a debilitating need to grab onto her and never let go. His eyes scoured the area, looking for his girl, his love, his soulmate. If he ever met fate, he was going to punch that fucker in the throat and then thank her for the opportunity - because, as kind as she seemed to be, she was still a petty ass bitch for putting them through this.

Free from the claustrophobic street and coming into a large, open, touristy square, he spotted her from behind a good ways ahead. Without thinking, unable to stop himself even if he tried, he shouted her name, his lungs pumping air fervently as the anticipation for her to see him knocked the wind from his diaphragm.

Hearing a thunderous bellow of her name, Kagome abruptly stopped walking, startled while a frenzy of flutters erupted in her abdomen. She spun around, searching the area for the voice, the call, her mom asking what was wrong beside her but she couldn’t answer. 

Her breathing stopped, her heart sputtered, her body heated, and the biggest surprise overtook her when she spotted Inuyasha where they’d come from at the far end of the square. She didn’t even pause to process. Kagome ran to him, sprinted, enveloped in ecstasy when she saw him running toward her, too.

He’d braced to catch her and she threw herself into his arms, her own encircling his neck as he squeezed her tight, spinning her around once before setting her toes back to the ground.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here!?” She cried, unwilling to let go yet.

“I flew out for a meeting; I’m just here until tonight!” Inuyasha replied, holding her so tight his body curved protectively around hers.

“I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I didn’t want to mention it! It was last minute, and it’d be like salt in the wound! I thought you were in Connecticut, anyway!”

“No, I had it wrong!” She laughed, more from the overwhelming happiness than anything else. They finally let go of each other, but Inuyasha cradled her jaw with his hands, keeping her to him, and Kagome held onto his forearms, tightening her grip to attempt and still her trembling fingers. “His Connecticut interview is on a different date. This was apparently a Chicago interview trip all along.”

“You dummy.” He laughed, pulling her in for the kiss of a lifetime.

He breathed her in, holding her close, his shoulders curling over her as she whimpered beautifully into the breathtaking kiss. It heated him thoroughly, making him feel whole for the first time since August. 

“I swear,” She sighed as they broke apart, but he interrupted her with another kiss. “I texted -“ Another kiss, this time accompanied with a tiny growl to shut her up. It only made her giggle. “You.”

“I haven’t been able to check my phone. I’m so sorry.” He murmured breathlessly, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I just can’t believe you’re here!” She squealed, bouncing to hug him again.

“Fuck, baby. I’ve missed you so goddamn much.” He laughed, engulfed in sheer bliss. “Was that your family I saw you with?”

“Yeah.” Kagome smiled, allowing him to let go, though their hands quickly sought the other’s out, fingers pleasantly entwined for a sense of completeness.

“I’d like to meet them.” He said with a quick peck to her cheek before gesturing for her to lead him over. She was giddy, practically skipping as she guided him through the square to where her mother, grandfather, and brother waited; two of which looking more confused than anything while the awaiting woman seemed nothing less than sweetly content.

“I’ve never seen my daughter run to anyone so fast in my life. You must be Inuyasha.” Kagome’s mother chuckled, the sound smooth.

“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He greeted kindly, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“Inuyasha, this is my mom, my grandpa, and my brother, Sota.” Kagome said. 

Her younger brother held a grimace of bemusement, and she rolled her eyes, her head lolling to the side in mild exasperation. 

“My boyfriend.” She clarified.

“Oh!” Sota’s expression cleared, like a lightbulb literally flickered on over his head. “Cool. The sweet-talker.”

“Oh my god.” Kagome mumbled, tucking her embarrassment behind Inuyasha’s arm as he laughed.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me.” The hanyou agreed with a smug grin, shrugging. It wasn’t a lie; he knew the level of his own game.

“Yeah, my sister never shuts up about you. How do you turn it off?” Sota sarcastically asked.

Kagome’s jaw dropped in shock and Inuyasha pinched his lips together to stifle his laugh. A look of humored fear struck her younger brother as she narrowed her eyes, silently mouthing the words, “I’m gonna fucking hit you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, boy.” The old man greeted, interrupting the siblings and taking Inuyasha’s hand to shake. “It’s a wonderment to see proof that the concept of soulmates still exists in this era.”

“I can’t agree more.” He nodded earnestly, squeezing Kagome’s hand as he still held it.

“If my son were still here, he’d damn the whole thing and insist on giving you a hard time to make sure you deserved Kagome.”

“I guess you’ll have to do it for him then. I’d happily take the challenge.”

“Shit, you are a sweet-talker.” Sota murmured, casually ducking behind their mother when Kagome sent him an incredulous glare to shut his mouth.

“I like to hear that.” Her grandfather stated.

“Are you here on business?” Her mother asked in reference to his professional attire, dressed to the nines thanks to Sesshomaru’s need to be uncomfortable, her genuine smile never having once faded.

“I am. Yes. I saw you all passing by the window of the restaurant we were having a meeting in. I couldn’t stop myself from running out.”

“What?” Kagome gasped. “You were currently in the meeting you were flown out for? And, you just ditched it!?”

“Don’t worry!” He laughed, giving her hand another comforting squeeze. “I told Sesshomaru I had to take a work call, so he thinks I’m on the phone.”

“Your brother was in the meeting, too!? How much longer can you pull this off before he grows suspicious!?”

Inuyasha pulled the cellphone from the pocket of his slacks, his humored expression deadpanning as he noticed a recent text from Sesshomaru telling him to wrap up the call so they could get on with business. He shifted an apologetic frown toward Kagome, pressing a long squeeze to her palm.

“Thought so.” She compassionately smiled.

“I’m sorry.” Came his whisper.

“Mama, I’m gonna walk him back, okay?”

“No, you don’t -“

“Alright, dear. We won’t go far.” Her mother beamed, waving a goodbye.

“It was so nice to finally meet you all.” Inuyasha politely said before turning around, dragging his soulmate off with him.

She hugged his arm close, the body heat of hers radiating through his suit. They didn’t say much on their walk back, which he intentionally took at a leisurely pace. It was a moment to respect; to savor. He wanted to memorize the prints of her fingertips that held his hand, every ridge and line of her skin engraved into his own. He wanted to absorb every ounce of warmth she had to offer, and be privileged to remember the exact rhythm that her lungs worked at. And, when they neared the restaurant, he physically felt the wrenching sputter of her heart, and though he knew it was from ache, he wanted to remember that, too. Because, it was for him. Because, she loved him. Because, she didn’t want say goodbye or any variation of the word. Because, it helped him realize that he was truly the luckiest bastard in existence.

Inuyasha turned around to face her, his hands instantly cradling her jaw and threading through her soft hair. “I’m sorry this was so short. I’m so sorry, Kagome.”

“Stop. Are you kidding me?” She lightly giggled. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you until you finished up in Europe. Even if this was short, I’m so happy right now.”

“You promise?” He asked for his own reassurance, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Pinky promise.”

Inuyasha curved her chin up in his grasp, kissing her deeply, taking every last bit of her in as he could. Her taste, her scent, the feel of her body pressed against his, everything.

“Get in there, business man.” She breathed, gently rubbing the tip of her nose against his.

“I love you.”

“I love you so much.” Kagome placed one last, sweet kiss to his lips before giving him an encouraging nudge in the direction of the door. “See you later.”

“Tap twice to let me know you’re back safe with your family.”

“I will. Go.”

“Wait, one more.” He laughed, reaching for Kagome and pulling her in for a final, hungry kiss. She melted in his grasp, sighing delightfully, fucking with his mental stability. “Now I’ll go.” He rumbled sedately. 

Composing himself, Inuyasha calmly entered the restaurant, crossing to the side his meeting was held on and taking his seat at the window with an apologetic look for the inconvenience. He was glad Sesshomaru didn’t ask questions; for once grateful for the general look of disinterest his brother’s face had seemed to be stuck in for as long as he could remember.

Three slow sensations tickled his left wrist and Inuyasha reflexively went to give them back, stopping himself as he looked out the window. Across the street, Kagome stood in her floral dress, the breeze blowing gorgeous strands of dark hair into her face. With a warm smile, she bit her lip, tucking her hair behind her ear before waving to him. A grin grew on his face, one he knew wasn’t subtle at all but who the fuck was he to care? That was his girl, his Kagome. Without removing his eyes, Inuyasha tapped his device three times, watching her brown eyes flutter down to see it illuminate and then smile even wider before gifting him with one last glance, and walking away.

From that point on, things were easy. Easier. It was still hard to be apart, but the sense that everything was going to be perfectly fine settled any nerves that had the tendency to get aggravated. Kagome’s schedule gradually cleared as she finished her internship and locked away the experience under her belt, and her classes weren’t as strenuous as the end of the school year approached. She was freaking out a little to try and lock down a job after graduation, as any graduate would be, but calming her down had become a simple task for Inuyasha. Frankly, he wasn’t worried about a damn thing anymore. He wanted Kagome to experience that level of tranquility, too. Everything was bound to fall in line for them from this point on, within their relationship and out, and if it didn’t happen organically, Inuyasha would personally see to fixing it, himself.

Interestingly enough, a plan was set in motion. A chain began to form, unbeknownst to both of them. Until he received a call from a number he didn’t recognize. On a whim, he answered, surprised to hear the soothing voice of Kagome’s mother on the other end; apparently having had Sango play the in-between intelligence that stole his number from Kagome’s phone. With the simple question she presented, the offer on the table, the hanyou cleared his schedule with no debate necessary. His answer was an immediate, “I’ll be there.”

Kagome stood with her graduating friends, waiting for the call that directed them all to get in line in the respectful categories of their majors, donned in celebratory dresses - and button-ups for the guys - beneath their gowns, caps held in their hands until absolutely necessary to put them on and ruin their hair. All of them were proud, joyful, excited, and albeit slightly nervous. Of course, as the ever so reliable one of the group, Sango pulled through with a small - and easily concealable - bottle of tequila. All of them pretended to be surprised that she would pull this stunt, but it would be a lie if anyone would expect anything less of her. Especially on such a jubilant day. Everyone took a straight swig from the bottle, passing it along to the next person until the circle was complete and everyone felt a little more pumped and prepared to cross the stage and wrap up their college career.

After the ceremony, the cheers, the jumps for joy, and the loud pops of confetti that damn near gave everyone a heart attack, students filtered out into the the courtyards to find their families. Kagome was dragged to the side with Sango and Miroku to wait, shadowed by trees in the large lawn dozens of students spaciously inhabited. Multiple times, Kagome felt she should try to find her family, worried they’d gotten lost in the crowd and maybe wandered to a different courtyard, which wasn’t difficult to do at her large school, but Sango insisted she stay put and just wait, claiming she was worrying too much. All she could do was constantly check the phone in her hand to make sure she didn’t somehow miss any notifications from her mom or younger brother.

Moments later, the warm voice of her mom called her name and Kagome beamed with happiness, running to hug her mother, hoping she’d succeeded in making her proud with her accomplishment. Her brother hugged her next, and then her grandfather kissed her cheek, all of them rosy in the face from smiling too much.

“Who’s the stud?” Sango flirtatiously asked, waltzing up to casually join the group and nudging her arm.

Kagome looked at her curiously, then followed the path of her eyes when Sango notched her chin to her left. Against a tree not too far away, a handsome man with short, silver hair leaned, an infamous, crooked grin adorning his face while his arms were nonchalantly crossed in front of his chest. He wore dark jeans with a light, untucked, button-up shirt, dressy enough for the occasion while still maintaining comfort.

“Oh my god!” She cried, carelessly dropping the things in her hands into Sango’s grasp and running over to her cunning boyfriend. “You’re here! You’re here!”

Inuyasha met her halfway, stealing her into a tight embrace as she still bounced on her feet, too excited for stillness, laughing.

“When did you get here!? I FaceTimed you this morning!”

“I know, I was bunkered in your room at your mom’s house.” 

“You were at my mom’s!?” Kagome pulled away, completely taken aback.

“It was her idea for me to surprise you.” The hanyou couldn’t bite back his amusement, chuckling and ecstatic that they’d pulled it off without an inkling of suspicion.

Kagome spun around, pinning her best friend with an audacious stare. “You knew, didn’t you!?”

“Of course, I knew! I played a roll in getting him out here!” Sango laughed.

“And, I just knew because that’s my right.” Miroku added, throwing his arm over Sango’s shoulders.

Kagome, too grateful for words and hoping her smile showed all the thanks she could possibly give, spun back around to Inuyasha, hopping back into a hug and robbing a kiss from him. “I can’t believe you’re here! Did you watch?”

“From start to finish. I’m so proud of you!”

“How long are you here for!?”

“Two days. You’ve got me for two days, baby.” Inuyasha squeezed her tight, pulling apart so he could kiss her on the forehead.

Sango and Miroku had parted to find their own families, and Inuyasha and Kagome enjoyed a night out to dinner with her own, celebrating her achievement before she headed back to her own apartment, rightfully dragging Inuyasha home with her.

They were merely in the hallway outside of her apartment before it hit them like a freight train, maddening desire catching up with them after months and months. Their lips had crashed into each other’s, their kiss heated and loving and mind numbingly hot. She was stumbling backward to get to her front door while Inuyasha held firmly around her waist, the two of them actively refusing to part until they absolutely had to - which just so happened to be when she dropped her keys while trying to unlock the door with one hand.

They both laughed, wonderfully flustered, and though he let her go so she could reach for the lanyard that held her keys, Inuyasha took residence behind her, his fingers gripping her hips and pinning his body to hers. His job was to make it difficult for her to get anything done, because in his eyes, he wouldn’t be doing it right if she could concentrate through his ministrations. Lips grazed over the tender flesh of her neck, his searing breath trailing over tended to spots and making her quiver where she stood. Kagome’s fingers were fumbling over keys, and he just fucking knew his girl was biting her lip to keep from making a peep.

God, he was so hard already, ready to fuck her over and over. And, over. And, over. And, if she asked nicely, one more time. He had so much pent up frustration for her to take in, and sleep was for the wicked. Her neck tasted so good, her reactions - stifled as they may be - made him feel borderline feral.

Finally, Kagome unlocked her door, throwing it open and spinning around to claim Inuyasha’s mouth and pull him through, allowing him to shut and lock the bolt.

“Sango?” He murmured into her kiss.

“Not home.” She breathed.

“Sure?”

“She’s smart. She’s not home.”

“Oh? Yeah?” His husky tone piqued in ruttish interest, one of his hands coursing through her hair to snag blissfully at the back. “You already knew what was gonna happen, baby? My little slut.”

Kagome could only reply in a moan, gripping the front of his shirt as she tried to guide him to her bedroom without tripping. She’d left her cap and gown in her car, leaving her donned only in the new dress she’d gotten just for the occasion. It was form-fitting, hugging every curve of hers beautifully, accentuating her perfect tits, her grabbable ass, the straps thin and the hem ending above mid-thigh. Through the door of her bedroom, he wasted no time in locating the zipper, dragging it down her back to release the dress’s enviable grasp on her. The straps fell from her shoulders easily, and Inuyasha gladly dragged them over her arms, flawlessly pushing the dress down her chest, her waist, her hips, and to the floor where she stepped out of it and kicked her flats off. Her breasts were concealed by a strapless bra, and after she eagerly undid his shirt and shoved it off of him, he yanked the useless delicate down to reveal the gorgeous and tempting sight of her hardened nipples. Inuyasha’s mouth instantly claimed one, not bothering to take his time. He was needy for her. Too much time played a cushion between them and he needed the fervent reminder of what she tasted like, how she felt while she laid helplessly beneath him as he fucked her, the erotic sounds she made when he hit just the right spot that made her clutch the bedding and arch her back. 

Inuyasha pulled her to follow him as he sat on the edge of the mattress, sucking and using his tongue to flick her nipple within his mouth. Without instigation, she straddled his lap, allowing him to do whatever he wanted, and he rewarded her by grabbing her ass and maneuvering her to grind against his erection. His jeans hindered the sensation he craved, but the way she trembled told him how much she loved it all.

Easily, he unhooked the bra still wrapped beneath her supple breasts, unable to remove the wretched thing fast enough, and switched to pay attention to her neglected nipple. His hands made home on her ass, massaging, giving a little spank, but mindful to be frugal in how often he allowed her to grind into him. He’d stop her if she tried to do it herself, and just to show her he was in charge, he would sometimes only move her in simple, light motions that gave her limited satisfaction. The pleading whimper she made was music to his ears, and he gave a taunting chuckle in response each time. If only she knew he was just getting started with her.

“You miss me, baby?” He whispered hoarsely. Kagome whined, almost gasping as he littered steaming kisses over her chest. “No, no. I asked you a question. Answer it.”

“Yes.” She replied breathlessly. “I missed you so much.”

“Good girl. I missed you, too. All those pictures you send me almost make me lose my mind. I was so fucking close to buying a ticket to see you when you sent me the ones of you touching yourself. You know the ones?” Another keen, breathy and voiceless as he nipped her ribcage lightly. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” She sighed at the exact moment he ground her against him.

“The ones where I know what you’re doing, but I don’t get to see anything. Not a fucking thing. You’re such a little tease, you know that?”

That time, Kagome gave a satisfied and sultry giggle, licking her lips in response.

“Oh, you do? You’re a little too proud of yourself there, baby girl. You like driving me crazy?” His voice was deep, throaty, driving her wild and Kagome could barely manage a pout while she nodded that time.

“You wanted me to buy that ticket to you, didn’t you?”

Another nod, her teeth biting down on her lower lip as he pushed his hand between her pussy and his pelvis, dragging his fingers over her lace panties to taunt her as she created the respected space to allow him, again, to do whatever the hell he wanted to her.

“All so I could fuck you?” That time he whispered, feeling his hot breath bounce off her soft skin. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

“Oh, come on now. You can do better than that.”

“Inuyasha.” She trembled, her hips bucking mildly when he applied a little more pressure to her core.

“Do it.”

“Please.”

“Fucking beg me.”

“Please.”

“Give me more, baby.”

“I want you so bad.” She whined, her fingernails raking over his shoulders.

“I know you do.” Inuyasha gently pushed her to stand, following closely, one of his hands going into her hair to softly grip while his other undid his jeans, all the while leading her backwards toward the far wall. “But, that’s not what I asked. You need to beg me for this cock.”

“Please. Please, I want it so bad. I’m begging you. I’ve missed you so much. I need you.” The plead was almost too genuine, each waver to her tone like a lick of fire to his flesh, and he smiled arrogantly, tightening his grip on her hair and pulling her in for a feverish kiss.

He pinned her to the wall, pressing his body against hers, feeling the way her chest rose and fell with each heavy sigh. In his devotion to make sure she was going to get everything from him, including a refreshment course on how powerfully he worshipped her body, he steadily dropped to his knees, kissing down along the way. To drag those wanton breaths from her lungs, he place scalding kiss after kiss over the cloth of her panties, teasing her before giving in with a content chuckle. After pulling them down her gorgeous legs, Inuyasha licked his lips, propping one of her thighs over his shoulder as he set to his delectable feast. Fuck, she tasted so ungodly delicious, bringing a deep groan to rumble from his throat. He alternated between flattening his tongue to drag it over her entire pussy and playing with her clit with the very tip, and when her legs quickly began to tense and wobble, he wondered just how much she’d be able to take. He held her thighs, taking a deep lap with his tongue and then sucking on her clit, swallowing her juices. In the sexiest voice, the most desperate moan he’d heard from her yet, Kagome cursed, her hand gripping at his silver hair.

“Fuck, baby. Please.” She rasped, trying to pull him up.

Like a sucker, he complied, drowning her in a deep kiss while his hand curved around her throat. Kagome’s adventurous hands scraped down his bare sides, blindly making sure he’d undone his pants before finding the band of his boxers and reaching through to pull out his cock. Her palm was hot and he was throbbing. Using one hand brought a groan from his throat, and as she incorporated a second one, he couldn’t prevent himself from rolling into her grip, captivated by her mind numbing touch.

Inuyasha pushed her hands away, taking the liberty to curl her arms around the back of his neck as he leaned down, picking her up by the thighs and pushing her solidly against the wall for support. Without missing a beat, he gingerly pushed inside of her, hissing an unrestrained, “Shit!” Her legs wrapped around his hips, his girl ready to take him all in, and the sight of her mouth hanging open from the blissful intrusion had him going mad.

He moved his palms upward, gripping her ass as he began to thrust into her. It almost felt like it had during their first time together; so lost in each other it was impossible to stop. So enraptured, so taken that it would be debilitating to hold back. He could see Kagome losing herself, keening, grasping him tighter as her head dropped to his shoulder. Fuck, she was already shaking, enjoying herself too much, and it brought a wicked grin to Inuyasha’s face.

“You like that?” He teased.

“Harder.” She shockingly answered, lightly digging her nails into the back of his shoulders.

He had an unhinged need to give her exactly what she wanted. She was light in Inuyasha’s arms, easy to move, easy to manipulate, easy to fuck, but for better grounding, he further trapped her placement against the wall, their gasping mouths just centimeters apart as he thrusted deeper into her with nearly-bruising force.

“That what you want?”

“God, yes.” Kagome mewled, allowing her head to rest against the wall, a sinful smile growing on her face.

Inuyasha lavished her open neck and throat with adoring kisses, nips, licks, and sucks, intentionally leaving his mark. She was his. He wanted Kagome covered in his hickies, he wanted her smothered in his scent, he wanted the world to know that fate didn’t have to play a part in their union; Inuyasha would have willingly chosen Kagome time and time again.

Feeling the searing and overwhelming pleasure of her pussy claiming him, he pulled away from the wall the smallest amount; enough to give him room to play. He moved her hips, bouncing her on his dick as if she were the one fucking him, absorbed in the way her entire body responded. She was trembling, her voice broken, her legs squeezing him harder, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, and as she sucked in a shivering breath to hold, Inuyasha claimed her mouth, kissing her as she came on his cock.

Her legs were unstable, wobbly, but he set her down anyway, encouraging her to wrap her arms around his waist so he could support her as he guided her over to the bed, languid kisses peppered as they went. As they reached the mattress, Inuyasha smiled into his kiss, spinning her around and pushing her to bend over the edge of it. Kagome’d caught herself on her hands, temptingly biting her lip as she glanced over her shoulder at him before crawling further onto the bed to brace on her knees as well. Inuyasha shoved his pants and boxers down a littler further so they were out of the way, giving his cock a couple of jerks as he observed the tantalizing sight before him. Daringly, Inuyasha smacked her ass, his eyes rolling back ecstatically when she gifted him with a sensual sigh.

He spit into his hand, lubricating his cock before kneeling onto the mattress behind her and pushing inside, filling her whole. His pace started slow, but it was too simple. Kagome wanted more and she was willing to take it on her own, moving herself back and forth to match his rhythm and push him deeper inside of her. Altogether, Inuyasha stopped, allowing her to do as she pleased for a moment because the way her ass bounced against his hips was just too sexy to ignore. But, when she seemed to be thoroughly pleasing herself, he reached for her waist, anchoring himself as he pushed so hard into her that they both groaned loudly. She’d almost lost her balance, her hands clambering forward to clutch her comforter and support herself. Muscles engaged in her back, accentuating the curve of her spine, and Inuyasha felt a dangerous heat bubbling inside of him.

He’d completely admit that he’d lost himself to her in that moment, absolutely captivated by the way her body contorted, bounced, flexed, and ultimately welcomed his aggressive thrusts with how hard, how deep he fucked his girl. Reaching forward, Inuyasha safely gripped her hair, supporting her waist with his free arm as her scooped her torso up to meet his, the angle a little different while her hands grasped the forearm he held around her front, and her moans took on a pitchy effect.

“Play with yourself.” He ordered in her ear, releasing her to fold over completely with zero hesitation to do as he said.

He’d anchored himself by gripping her hips, enraptured by the beautiful expressions displayed on his soulmate’s face while she rested the side of it against the blanket, one of her hands tightly clutching the bedding by her shoulder while the other had glided between her thighs, massaging her clit. The way her breathing increased, her body responding to the ample stimulation, it was sending him spiraling, clenched curse words slipping off his tongue like they were the only hope of remaining grounded for however long it took to force Kagome to succumb with him. 

“Come on, baby. Come on.” He gently coaxed, her squirming testing his willpower.

“Don’t - don’t stop!” She begged, muffling her voice with the comforter while she continued to vigorously rub herself. 

Fuck, those words were like a fire hazard, building the heat that was already threatening to burn him down. Inuyasha clenched his jaw shut, grunting as he forced himself to maintain everything exactly as it was so as not to throw her off. What this goddess wanted, she got, and if she told him not to stop, especially in that desirable, whimpering manner, then obey he would.

“A l-little harder, please.”

Son of a bitch, she was going to be the death of him. The politeness, the submissive way she requested what she needed to reach climax had Inuyasha soaring, his fingers gripping harder so as not to reveal that they’d tremble against her supple flesh if he didn’t. That didn’t prevent him from bequeathing an ounce more of fervency to get her closer, closer, the enchanting sound of skin slapping skin all he could focus on until she rolled her hips in an irrepressible reaction to the orgasm fervidly overtaking her, the shuddering gasp she released proving to be the absolute end of his discipline. With just a few more powerful bucks of his hips, Inuyasha pulled out in time to cum on her back, biting back curses as his core went taut.

Sleep was for the wicked. So he said. Inuyasha had cleaned Kagome up, taken care of her after to make sure she was okay, gotten her water from the fridge while she was in the bathroom, and the moment their heads hit the pillows, they were sedated, lethargic, yet so greatly inclined to resist the pull of sleep. Kagome laid in his arms, eyes closed but still conscious, still whispering little stories to him that made him laugh. His bottom arm was loosely curled around her, but he earnestly tended to her with his other, stroking her hair, her cheek, her shoulder, massaging her temple to relax her, satiating his own desire to softly stroke her bottom lip with his thumb. It was a moment he wanted burned into his memory for as long as he lived. How easy it was to worship her, to love her, to respect her and cherish the light that she offered by just being. How simple it felt to just exist with her in such an insignificant moment that still meant the world to them both. It almost hurt, how much he adored Kagome. It was a pain he gladly accepted, though. It was a pain that reminded him he was alive, fortunate. It was a good pain. It made him question who he’d ever be without her, and then it made him immediately squash the thought as he silently swore he’d never let a living soul hurt this woman. Ever. He’d give his life for hers without a second thought.

What didn’t seem to hurt so much anymore, though, was parting. Goodbye was always bittersweet, but the both of them also felt complacent. The hard part was gone and passed. Had been for a little while. And, four months later, their path was reaching an alignment.

He’d succeeded. Inuyasha was finally receiving his promotion in his father’s company, attaining his share of the partnership. It was a huge weight off his shoulders, and a moment he couldn’t help but hope his late father would be proud of. 

This also meant he was coming home.

The moment Sesshomaru and he finished speaking about the upcoming changes and their next course of action, Inuyasha purchased a ticket for a flight home for the following week. The call to inform Kagome was nerve-spiking, because he anxiously awaited her excited reaction. He anxiously awaited closing the gap and ending the remainder of their madness. And, she didn’t fall through. God, when her voice got so high pitched because she just couldn’t contain herself, it brought the dumbest grin to his face. 

Momentarily, she’d been staying with her mom, the job she was currently working lackluster and only a means of experience for the time being. Not too long ago, Inuyasha presented the idea of them finding a place together whenever he got back - which would involve her relocating to a different state and leaving her job - and he’d be a fucking liar if he said he wasn’t nervous as all hell that she’d decline. It was a big move for them, but one neither of them could neglect to acknowledge would eventually happen no matter what. Considering the incredibly obvious circumstances. To his surprise, she’d enthusiastically agreed. 

As unsure as everything was, no apartment to come home to but a hotel to stay in until they found a place of their own, the couple was just too happy to care about the details. Finding an apartment would be a simple task, anyway, since money wasn’t a thing to worry about in Inuyasha’s book. Kagome packed her things and got to their new city a few days ahead of him, and though he watched her roll her eyes time and time again over their FaceTime call, her boyfriend actively refused to allow her to stay in a hotel that looked remotely shoddy. They were looking online together before she’d left, but he proved to be resolute in his decision, deciding on one he’d approved of and booking it for her with his own card. Oh, he got an earful for that since she felt it wasn’t fair he was paying for it, but he took it all with an arrogant smile. This was his way of taking care of her. Kagome could protest all she wanted; it was done and set in stone, and Inuyasha felt no inking of regret.

She’d caught a taxi from her hotel to the airport, practically bouncing in her seat the entire ride there, which escalated into a vibrating anticipation as they sought out the terminal he’d be landing in. Kagome was so giddy, so excited that she felt like she was high, her chest weightless and fingers slightly shaky from the overabundance of endorphins flowing through her system. Inuyasha’s flight was scheduled to land by ten-thirty that evening, but surprisingly the airport still had a good amount of foot traffic within. It was physically impossible to fight off her body’s reaction to bob from foot-to-foot while she stood idly in the waiting area, but it was all she could do to stay put when people started flowing out, a nearby, electronic board stating his flight had landed moments ago. Taking her cue, Kagome unrolled the small-sized poster paper in her hands, “Cujo” written on the front of it in bold, decorative handwriting. She’d warned him she’d do this if he continued to make fun of her the other night, the two of them having too much fun joking around, but he clearly thought she was full of it. The moment his silver hair came into view, though, ember eyes staring down at his phone, the hanyou donned in jeans, a loose tee, and a hoodie, Kagome just couldn’t contain herself. The paper loosely rolled back up on its own in her hand as she dropped it with the other, squealing loudly and sprinting over to her boyfriend. Inuyasha glanced up, a bright smile appearing on his face as he opened his arms and caught her when she jumped into his hold, her legs wrapping around his waist and body hugging him as firmly as she could.

“Hi!” He greeted, holding her securely and laughing.

“I missed you!” Kagome squeezed him tighter, too happy to let go yet.

“You have no idea, babe.”

She leaned back in his arms, just enough to kiss him, smiling gleefully as she peppered his lips in affection over and over. “Welcome home.”

He was hot, happy. Thankful. Licking his lips to welcome her taste when she pulled back to smile at him.

“What’s the sign say?” He smirked, letting her know he hadn’t missed the fact that she was carrying a poster. Kagome laughed, unfurling it to show him, and he groaned with feigned annoyance. Inuyasha hiked her up in his arms, easily tossing her over his shoulder as she yelped and laughed even harder, supporting her upper body with her hands braced on his back. “Where’s the fucking trashcan? I’m throwing your ass away.”

“Inuyasha, no!” She pleaded meekly in the midsts of her giggle fit.

| Cruel Summer |

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

“Make Your Own Kind Of Music” -- Alice Macray

A/N: I can’t get Alice’s impending transformation out of my head, so this happened. Big huge thanks to @thatgirlintheleatherjacket​ for convincing me not to give up on this and dealing with my whirlwind of emotions. Also please bear with me, I wrote this in under 24 hours and there are probably typos. 

**This was written after having only seen the first three episodes of Mrs. America, so it is inevitably canon divergent**

Words: ~3,700

~Enjoy!~

“I think you should wear the pink one. You know how much I love it on you.”

Alice smiled at the sentiment, pulling the blush blazer from its hanger. 

“Well, alright then.” 

She slid it on, tugging at the sleeves and tucking it around her skirt. Buck was silent as she walked to her vanity, eyes following her every move. And when she felt the heat of them, she hastily changed the subject. 

“Remember that that pot roast is in the oven and should be done in about fifteen minutes. The children should be doing their homework, and they can put themselves to bed. Do you need anything else before I go?”

He hummed, ogling her from the doorway. “No no. It’s just that Phyllis is here to see you.”

And right on cue, she breezed past Buck into the room. 

Alice glanced up from her vanity. “I apologize for not greeting you at the door, it’s just that I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Phyllis waved her off, seemingly distracted by the cleanliness of her room. She slid her finger over the fireplace mantle, flicking the dust off. “I only came by to return the books you had leant me.” A pause. “Where are you going?”

“Oh just a quick appointment,” Alice said smoothly, checking her hair in the mirror. “Where are the books?”

“Downstairs,” Phyllis said absently, walking around the room and testing multiple surfaces with her finger. “What kind of appointment?” 

Alice swallowed. “Oh, did I say appointment? I meant a family obligation. I apologize.” 

Again.

“A family obligation? Isn’t Buck going with you?”

Alice waved her off. “No no, it’s just a home visit.”

“Oh,” Phyllis quirked her brow, picking at a chip on her windowsill. “Well I’m more than happy to stay over and take care of dinner, if you need the extra help.”

Alice forced a smile, straightening out her blazer. “I think Buck can handle the children for one night.”

“Well, let’s hope so, since you’re not giving him much of a choice.”

Alice turned, forcing herself to take a breath as she rummaged for her earrings. “Was there anything else?”

She didn’t miss the way Phyllis hesitated, watching her eyes narrow in the vanity mirror. 

“No no,” she said quickly, covering her pause as she straightened. “I just thought I’d drop those vile things back to you. I almost sent them off with the garbage. No need having more women getting nonsense ideas. But I suppose you should be the one to make that decision.”

“Well yes, they are my books.” Alice turned back around, careful to hold her smile in place as she walked toward the door. She stood in the doorway, checking her posture. “Thank you again for returning them, I’d hate to take time out of your busy day.”

“Oh, well… Anything for my biggest booster.”

A light hand on her elbow and a kiss to her cheek, and Phyllis was gone. 

And Alice hated herself for almost wanting to follow. 

~~~ 

Alice paused in front of the large door, tugging at the hem of her blazer as her mind flipped back on itself for the hundredth time in the short ten minutes it had taken her to walk across town to the building. 

She shouldn’t be here. She wanted to be here. She shouldn’t do this. She wanted to do this. What would Phyllis think? Why did she care? What would her family think? Her friends, her son... 

But before she could remind herself that she was only here because she had been invited, reminded herself that it really didn’t mean anything at all, two women pushed past her to the door, giggling between themselves.

“Are you here for the meeting?” one of them asked, mouth pulled open in a huge smile. 

Alice nodded carefully, looking between the woman and the handle of the door. “Yes, I’m-“

There was a hand on her arm, friendly, gentle, and Alice flashed back to all of the times Phyllis had smoothed a hand down her arm, over her elbow, pulling her up and keeping her steady. 

But she was alone here. Entirely alone. 

She couldn’t do this. This was all a huge mistake. 

Alice had just managed to swallow around her fear and form some sort of excuse, when the door pulled open and she was hit with a wall of sound.

Everyone was bustling, everyone was moving. And everything was so colorful.

She blinked at the instant panic that clawed its way up her throat, smoothing down her blazer. And then there was a blonde woman in front of her, a huge smile in place.

“Alice?”

She managed a nod. 

“I’m so glad you made it! I’m Jill, the one who sent you the letter?”

Alice tried for a smile, fighting the way her lips wobbled with nerves. “Oh! Oh well, it is so nice to meet you, Jill. I appreciate the invitation. It—“

And then Jill was being pulled away by a woman with piles of paper balanced in her arms. She mouthed an apology as she was dragged across the room, and Alice smiled softly and nodded. Her nose twitched as she watched the room. She was here. She had done the hardest part. She had arrived. 

But now she was alone. 

It occurred to her as she watched all of the women bustle around, laughing and joking and working around one another, that she hadn’t had the burden of making new friends in quite some time. Not without Phyllis there to guide her and encourage her and prompt her forward. 

And right now, the idea of it seemed practically impossible. 

Alice had just decided to leave, finding the doors and keeping her eyes on them to hold herself balanced. Her fingers played over her blazer, smoothing over the rough fabric as she took a few steps towards the exit. 

Another hand on her arm.

“Leaving so soon?”

It was one of the girls that had greeted her in the hallway. 

“Oh, I—“ Alice tried, tripping over her words as she plastered a polite smile on her face. “I just thought that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, and—“

She cut off then, unable to find a rational ending to her sentence. 

She wanted to be here. She wanted to learn. She wanted to be more than she was supposed to be. More than just a housewife. More than everything. 

The girl in front of her gave her a kind smile. “I think you’ll like the talk today. If you just stay for a few more minutes, it should get started.” 

Alice found herself nodding before she knew what was happening. 

The girl squealed. “Oh yay! Perfect! Alright well, sit wherever you want. There’s coffee over there,” she pointed past a group of women huddled around a table, “and Gloria brought doughnuts!”

Alice blinked. “Gloria? As in…?”

“Mhm! She should be around here somewhere…” The girl trailed off as she looked around the room. “She’s the speaker today.” 

Phyllis’s voice in Alice’s head stopped her automatic response, making her pause. Scoffing over Gloria Steinem’s glasses at the salon. All of those words she had pushed into her newsletters. How sad it was that she didn’t have a husband to fulfill that hole in her life. 

“She wouldn’t be scrounging for validation if she had a family who needed her.”

“Are you alright?” the girl asked, and Alice shook her head out. 

“Yes, of course. I apologize. Thank you so much for all of your help.”

The girl nodded and made to leave, but then a shorter woman walked past and the girl grabbed at her arm. 

“This is Flo, she’s your go to for any kind of food or drink or… anything really.” 

Alice giggled, holding her hand out. “Hi, I’m Alice.”

And the smile that she received was so warm, Alice thought she might melt. “Flo,” the woman said, shaking her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Alice nodded just as someone shoved their way between them, four doughnuts stuffed in her mouth as she muttered. 

“Damnit Betty, watch where you’re going!” Flo shouted, rolling her eyes fondly and pulling Alice over to the table. “I’d suggest you take a doughnut before Friedan eats them all.”

A shock went through Alice. “Friedan? Betty Friedan? That was her?”

Flo laughed, nodding. “Real and in the flesh.” She pushed the plate of doughnuts toward Alice. “Now eat.” 

She almost grabbed one. She almost did. But then she paused, Phyllis’s voice nagging in the back of her head. 

“I shouldn’t,” Alice said softly, offering a sad smile and shaking her head. “Thank you, though.”

But Flo only raised an eyebrow. “Honey. Take a damn doughnut. What are you afraid of?” 

Who was she afraid of. 

So she did, taking a small, polite bite. She hummed around a moan, relishing the sweetness. It had been entirely too long since she had allowed herself to indulge in something so delicious just for the sake of it. 

“They’re delicious,” she said, covering her mouth and trying to swallow the sugar down. “Are they homemade?”

And the look Flo gave her, brows pushed up incredulously, had Alice wanting to crawl back into her shell. “No baby, they’re from the store. You know it’s not a woman’s job to bake everything, right? There are people who get paid to do that.” 

“I think having homemade things are nice.” 

Bella slid by, throwing a “You also thought Phyllis was nice” over her shoulder. 

Alice spun around, hand coming up to her chest, but the woman was gone before she could manage a response. 

And as she turned, eyes searching the room, they landed on a woman who stuck out like a gem. 

Tall, long hair, dressed impeccably modern, aviators tucked over her ears as she nodded along with a conversation. 

Gloria Steinem. 

But it barely had time to register before people were pushing and someone was clapping and shouting for people to find a comfortable place to sit. 

Flo walked over to a nearby desk, shoving a harsh woman out of her chair before catching Alice’s eye and patting the top of it. 

So for the next twenty minutes or so, Alice sat on the hard edge of a desk, watching the other women sprawled out on the floor and envying their pants and light blouses and their sheer level of comfort. Comfort in their clothes, their friendships, their lives.  

And as Alice listened to Gloria talk, all she could think about was Phyllis. 

About how Phyllis talked. Lectured. So polished, refined, proper. Everything she stood for. Everything Alice had longed to be for so long. 

And how Gloria talked, so raw, so unfiltered. With “fuck”s and “shit”s and crude language.

The first time the word had dropped from her mouth, Alice had flinched and Flo had laughed. But after that, every one of those vulgar words made her sit up straighter, hold her head higher. Built an empowerment in her that she didn’t know she was capable of. 

Gloria talked for what felt like forever. What felt like three seconds. And Alice clung to her every word. But then Betty stood up and folded an argument into her point, and as they hashed out their differences of opinions, Alice found herself locking her eyes anywhere but on them. 

She had never been one for conflict, but she felt especially uncomfortable about being witness to an argument that had clearly been brewing for some time, hashed out over what had to have been multiple meetings. And everyone seemed to have something to say, jutting in and taking sides and calling people out by name. 

Alice pinned her eyes down on the desk, tracing the mess there and thinking absently that she should straighten it out for them, when something caught her eye. 

It was one of Phyllis’s newsletters, buried under a pile of papers. And some sort of liquid had been spilt on it, because the ink had bled across the page and dried, crumpled and misshapen.  

There was something about it, though. Something about the way that Phyllis’s face was disfigured, her smile morphed into something wicked and sickening, that made Alice almost grin. Phyllis wasn’t a queen here. She didn’t own these women. 

They owned themselves. 

~~~ 

Alice wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but after Gloria finished speaking, a large group of women swarmed around her, their questions rapid-fire. 

It started with a lot of “why did you decide to come” and “aren’t you that girl with the banana bread?” 

Jill had jumped in, answering a few questions for her and defending her to these women. But the more Jill talked, the more specific their questions became. Until Jill couldn’t answer for her anymore and Alice was trapped in a whirlwind of ethical questions that she didn’t know the answers to. 

She didn’t have Jill. She didn’t have Phyllis. She was left alone to fend for herself, and she was utterly ill-prepared. 

“How do you feel about abortion?”

“I- I’m not sure...?”

“How do you feel about gay rights?”

“I don’t know, I-“

“What about racial equality?”

She paused.��

Phyllis flashed through her mind, the smile that she had given Alice after letting her get pummeled by Frances. After lifting her up and stoking her ego and sending her to the ring to be slaughtered. For standing up for what she believed in. For standing up to that horrible, racist woman. 

So Alice said what she would have never been allowed to say with her own group of friends. What Phyllis would have breezed past and glossed over and shamed her for. She told the truth. 

“I think it’s important, and honestly I’m not sure why it’s still an issue.” 

There was a long pause, and Alice held her breath as the women around her exchanged looks. And then— 

“She’s one of us girls!” 

A cheer erupted from the group, and Jill patted her on the shoulder, beaming. 

“Somebody get her a button!” 

Alice blushed as someone leaned forward, pinning an ERA button to her blazer. And as she scrambled for something to say, Gloria smiled.

“Now you’re one of us.”

One of them. 

It felt good, being accepted. Making friends on her own. Making her own connections and deciding her own beliefs. Having a part of her life that was completely hers. Not Phyllis’s. Not her husband’s. Not her children’s. 

Utterly and entirely hers. 

But just as she made to say something, to thank them and tell them how much their gesture meant, a song filled the room. 

One of them started it. She didn’t know which one. But suddenly there was a tune threading through the air — something familiar, but words that she didn’t recognize. 

“Mine eyes have seen the glory of the flame of women’s rage,” 

And as soon as another voice joined, Alice pinpointed them, whirling on the sound. 

“Kept smoldering for centuries, now burning in this age.”

Soon a group of four of them huddled in a corner and flicking through papers joined in, the sound breaking through the chatter and filling the room.

“We no longer will be prisoners in that same old gilded cage,”

And on the last line all of them joined in, Gloria passing around cups as she sang.

“That’s why we’re marching on!” 

Alice found herself watching Gloria carefully, the way her smile lit up the room as she sang. How genuinely the words fell out of her mouth, with the crinkle of her eyes and the fire behind them. 

She was jolted out of her daze by Flo’s hand on her arm. 

“Come on, Alice. Sing with us!”

She held her hand up placatingly, adjusting her blazer and offering a small smile. “Oh, that’s alright. I— I don’t know this song.”

“It’s easy. Here, see?” she took Alice’s hands, looking her dead in the eye as she sang. “Move on over or we’ll move on over you. Move on over—“

“Or we‘ll move on over you,” Alice tried, nodding along with the gentle bouncing of her hands. The next line was the same as the first, and Flo smiled at her as she sang. But the next line changed, and Alice didn’t realize, and she messed up, and her hands slid from Flo’s. 

She shook her head out. “I can’t— I shouldn’t—“ 

But Flo’s smile never faltered. She didn’t acknowledge Alice’s slip up. All she did was nod and lead Alice over to a couch, sitting down next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“That’s alright. Just listen then, okay? Just listen.”

“You have told us to speak softly, to be gentle and to smile,”

Alice found her eyes wandering around the room again, at the way everyone was singing in unison. The way their arms were wrapped around each other, glasses raised high as they laughed and cheered. 

“Expected us to change ourselves with every passing style.”

Alice tugged at her blazer again, swallowing roughly. Phyllis had picked it out for her. Was insistent that Buck would love it. And she had been right. But Alice hated it.

“Said the only work for women was to clean and sweep and file. That’s why we’re marching on!”

Something hit Alice like a brick, and she realized that she didn’t want to be wearing her blazer anymore. Didn’t want to conform to someone else’s definition of perfect. Of a woman. So she stood as the chorus came around again, unbuttoning it one snap at a time. 

“Move on over, or we’ll move on over you,” Alice tried, singing softly under her breath as she unpinned her ERA button, fitting the pin into her silk shirt instead and not caring if it pulled the fabric. “Move on over, or we’ll move on over you.”

She could feel the eyes on her, Flo’s from the back, Jill’s from her right. And she met Gloria’s eyes across the room, watching her like a hawk as she folded her jacket and hung it over her arm. 

“Move on over, or we’ll move on over you,” Alice sang again, a little bit louder this time, and Gloria nodded as she smirked.

“For women’s time has come.”

Someone nudged Gloria from the side and broke their eye contact, Gloria grinning at the woman and pulling herself off the wall to join a small group by the door. She swayed with them, singing the next part loudly. Almost baring her teeth. 

“It is we who’ve done your cooking, done your cleaning, kept your rules.”

A woman slammed her cup down, making Alice jump as she screamed over everyone else. 

“We gave birth to all your children and we taught them in your schools.”

Phyllis flashed through Alice’s mind again, her perfect figure, her six children. How easily she lost the baby weight. Like it was her job. 

And then Jill was next to her, pulling the blazer from Alice’s arms and threading their fingers together.

“We’ve kept the system running but we’re laying down our tools,” she sang softly, tugging Alice over to the group at the front of the room with a smile.

“That’s why we’re marching on!” they all shouted in unison, cheering and taking a drink.

And Alice thought that she was starting to get the hang of it, taking a sip from Jill’s cup as the chorus came around again. 

It didn’t take long for her eyes to find Gloria in the large group, surrounded by women and singing loudly as she laughed. Alice tracked her glasses, her long hair, her pants. And when she realized that Gloria was staring right back at her, she flushed a deep red. 

Alice ducked her head as the next verse started, reaching to tug at her blazer before realizing it wasn’t there. She didn’t have anything to hide behind. Nothing to straighten, nothing to perfect. 

Just herself, open and vulnerable and unprotected.

“You think that you can buy us off with crummy wedding rings,”

Alice’s thumb brushed her ring absently, Buck flitting through her mind before she brushed him away.

“You never give us half the profit that our labor brings.” 

And then it was Phyllis, pushing her up to the podium and praising her accomplishments, and then sticking her out on the front lines to do all of her dirty work. Something hard settled over Alice’s heart, and she pursed her lips as she nodded with the next line.

“Our anger eats into us, we’ll no longer bend to kings,”

“That’s why we’re marching on,” Alice said, her voice firm. Because she was finished. She was finished bending and bowing and changing who she was based on what someone else decided she should be. She was finished. 

Gloria’s arm was around her before she knew what was happening, squeezing Alice to her as everyone sang the next part loudly. Angrily. 

“We have broken through our shackles, now we sing a battle song.”

And they all stomped in unison, raising their cups.

“We march for liberation and we’re many thousands strong,”

Gloria shouted “millions” over the chorus of “thousands” and Alice couldn’t help but giggle, letting herself be jostled by the woman’s arm around her shoulders. Gloria looked down at her, beaming, and grabbed her hand. 

Someone one her other side grabbed her free hand and raised it in the air. Alice beamed. 

“We’ll build a new society, we’ve waited much too long.”

Gloria squeezed her hand.

“That’s why we’re—“ 

“Marching on!” Alice yelled loudly, earning a huge cheer from the group. 

And in that second, with everyone cheering for her, Alice found what she had been lacking this entire time. No. Not lacking. What had been suppressed within her, with every child she bore and every dinner she made and every curler she wore and every comment she swallowed. 

Her freedom. 

And when she sang the chorus one last time, practically screamed the words as anger and hurt and a need for justice boiled up inside of her, she felt free. She felt accepted. She felt heard. 

And maybe that wasn’t so bad after all. 

“For women’s time has come!” 

[mindlessselfdeprivation]

The Nothing

It’s just like The Neverending Story. It’s not darkness, it’s not even a hole, because even hole would be something. No, this...this is just nothing.

That’s depression. That’s what true despair is, it’s The Nothing that eats up your everything. It bleaches your life, nothing has any color or flavor or texture anymore. Food sucks, company is annoying, being alone is excruciating and substances exist only as a shit-ass temporary floaty. Recreation means nothing anymore, every desperate action during the day is taken only to distract me from myself for a little bit longer. Sleep will come soon, and in sleep there’s just that sweet fucking nothing. 

Which is what you feel like you constantly have, at any given time. Nothing. The Nothing has it now. And now every memory is covered in spikes, too painful to even go near.

Nothing can make you feel ok anymore, and your good days are the ones where you only brood and lament your life for a few hours out of the day. You know, as opposed to every second you’re awake. 

Those days happen so much more often. I swear to fucking God, some days I feel like the pain inside me is gonna open a fucking hole in the earth. Like I’m no longer going to be able to keep this horrible monster at bay anymore, and the scream that finally peals out of me will shred my lungs and crack open an abyss that swallows me once and for all. 

I fear for anyone that might be around when that bomb goes off. Which is another problem. Although I’m desperate to be seen and heard and known and loved, I’m fucking terrified of getting near anyone ever again, it seems like an absurd idea to even say it out loud. I’m a goddamned hurricane, I’m a fucking natural disaster on legs, an extinction level event taken human form. All of my relationships....it’s just a festering sewage basin, that whole area of my life. Everything there, flies and pestilence, disease and rot. 

That’s my heart in there too. Fucking rotten, like an old forgotten tree stump wasting away in a swamp somewhere in whogivesafuck. Thinking on it, can I even love anymore? Do I even know what that is anymore? 

An older woman I work with asked me for a hug the other day cause she was a little sad, thinking about her brother that died...and I was happy to oblige, she’s the sweetest little thing. And I realized - holy shit, this is the first real hug I’ve had in an entire year. I’ve hardly touched anyone for ten months outside of a handshake or a friendly bro-hug. 

And afterwards she thanked me and said I gave great hugs, and it dawned on me...I remembered being a guy who loved hugs, remembered a guy that was very romantic and affectionate, that insisted on using physical touch to remind those around him that he loved them dearly....then I looked over from that guy to the one that’s in there now. What a shadow, what a husk he’s become. Empty and hollow and discarded. A lost soul...an inevitable consequence of The Nothing.

The worst thing? I mean, if there is a blacker black than all the rest...

The Apathy. That’s what The Nothing shits out and leaves behind for you. You just don’t....fucking....care...anymore.

I used to have passion, play music, learn language or just about any damn thing else (I was always such a junkie for knowledge), write stories or poetry or music or any one of a dozen other things that enjoyed. And I don’t even write this out of sadness or with some sense of self pity, this is just a cold, apathetic recall of facts. There was a guy who knew love and there’s the guy sitting there now. And those are simply two different guys. And the insurance adjuster in me is fairly certain that at this level of damage, it’ll cost more to repair the existing vehicle than it would to just buy a new one.

I don’t have any real relationships anymore. I have the ones that are necessary to maintain normal social function, but even those I put in just enough to get buy and no more. I’ve lost too much and hurt too deeply and hurt others far too much to let anyone close anymore. It’s hard to describe how it feels to look around you and realize you’re standing alone, no one around. 

The only times I hear from someone is when they need something from me. I’m like a tool for rent. Why buy this thing when I only ever need to use it once in a blue moon?

Family? No, two sisters and two brothers in law that I don’t know anymore and they definitely don’t know me. A mom that taught me to use people like pawns and a dad so devoid of emotion and connection that it’s impossible to communicate, a daughter I never see or speak to anymore and an ex that swore we’d remain amicable for the sake of our daughter but slowly, methodically, and fucking brilliantly shut me out of her life completely...and my daughter with her by extension. Friends? No one there that knows me either, just people I talk to on occasion to spend a little bit of my distraction time with someone else.

But no one around me knows this. I put on a pretty decent mask I suppose, my boss apparently thought I was a really happy guy and married with kids. Ha. Cool, it’s working. I’ve gotten good at camouflage. It’s just another form of lying, and I’m incredibly good at lying. 

Talking about it, is like...what’s the fucking point? This is a tar pit, baby. I’m not bringing anyone else in this. Even if you were standing right next to me with a brilliant torch, this darkness, this Nothing around me is far too thick to see it. 

I miss writing though, maybe that’s why I’m finally doing this. Putting something down. I’m going to commit to talking to this fucking thing everyday. No one knows me here, I barely use this website. I only ever got onto it for....well, another person who eventually left. Maybe that’s why I feel I can be ok here, being naked and bleeding and fucked up and real.....no one who knows me by my mask will have to know what lives underneath it. This is my tree of trust.

I don’t want this to just be a dumping ground for depressed Emo bullshit though, I can go listen to Dashboard Confessionals while cutting myself if I wanted to go there. What I want is a true exploration and record of The Nothing as it grows stronger, what it’s taking, what fuels it, can I escape. I don’t want help either, I don’t think there is any such thing (see tar pit reference above). Maybe you’re always alone too, maybe you’re also constantly afraid that the house of cards will get blown down and people will see the real ugly inside. 

Maybe this is just me yelling into the wind that you’re alone, but not so alone. Maybe all of us are and none of us. Maybe I don’t know what to believe anymore.

I’ve tried to remember it, you know. Happiness. I’ve tried to find that motherfucker like Sherlock and his dear Watson, complete with cocaine and violins. You ever try to think of a nice warm fire while you’re soaking wet and freezing your balls off? And how’d that work out for ya? Same idea - “Just think happy thoughts” is like telling someone that just fell into arctic waters that they should “Just think of a nice warm fire”.

Hopefully, they’re still giving you the finger when their body gets frozen in place. It’d be a bit of justice, if there is such a thing.

That happiness is like the thought of a warm blanket when I’m currently buried in snow. Doesn’t actually exist.

There’s not a day where I don’t wake up wishing to fuck that I hadn’t. And there isn’t a night that I go to sleep that I don’t pray that I won’t wake up this time. Life has become a grueling marathon of pain and most days I have trouble figuring out why I fucking bother. 

Even as I’m writing this, I’m constantly stopping to wonder what’s the fucking point. 

I’ve gone on dating apps, funny enough. But every time I actually think about having a connection with someone, it honestly freaks me the fuck out. I’m so fucking damaged, there’s just no fucking way I’ll find someone with a back strong enough to help me carry all this baggage. I freak out and delete the account.

It’s completely not about the sex for me, if you can believe it. I’ve got such a low libido recently that even the idea of it lately gives me paralyzing anxiety. I don’t want to have sex if it’s not with someone I have a good intellectual connection with, and I never have. The problem with that is that sex in my mind is held on this strange pedestal where it straddles the line between sacred entity and foul beast, and it’s gotten so complicated and ridiculous that I just don’t care anymore. 

There isn’t anything even tempting or alluring about sex anymore. Even masturbation is almost completely without enjoyment, used every so often as a tool for general upkeep. And even this The Nothing has it’s hands on. The other day, I stumbled on a video that looked almost exactly like my child’s mother with another man...and I got physically ill. After throwing up 3 times and shaking for nearly an hour, I slowly pulled myself back from the panic attack I was having.

I didn’t eat for 3 days and I couldn’t get another erection for more than a week. Suppose it’s safe to say I’m still in love with that woman, I guess. Not only did I feel like absolute shit that whole week, I felt like shit for feeling like shit. My Yin and my Yang were both very very pissed off. This is just one of a number of broken fuses and faulty wires inside this broken machine.

Sometimes I wish we had the ability to do a form of Vulcan Min-meld, but with emotions and empathy. Especially when someone asks what’s wrong. Just grab their hand and rest it gently over my heart and let it tell the story for which I’ll never have the words. 

That’s also why I’d be scared like hell if that were possible, I’d be afraid the weight of it would crush them. I’m not trying to be really morose or hyperbolic, I’m fairly certain the vast majority of people walking around out there don’t carry this. I’ve talked to them, I know them. When you’ve spent a fucking lifetime perfecting your camouflage and your tower of lies, you can spot someone else playing that game from a mile away. And I’m not saying everyone else out there is skipping through a magic pixie lolly-pop fairyland or anything, but most people out there are general pretty stoked about being alive and doing stuff. People like me are out there, but I don’t see very many people that are under the spell of The Nothing.

I fucking hope not, this is an existence I wouldn’t wish on anyone, friend or foe. On that note, I also hope you aren’t going through that as well if you’re reading this right now. If you’ve never counted the different ways you could choose to end your life instead of counting sheep to fall asleep at night, you are truly blessed. 

I hope you stay whole. And with whatever capacity I’m still capable of feeling it, I love you. Cause maybe you don’t hear it that often either, and for that I’m sorry. I’d rather go without food than love, and I’ve been in both spots before.

I hope The Nothing never finds you.

Until next time.

[ryouverua]

Trial 6 -  ”hello, world!” (6)

Time to pick up the fallen torch.

Trial: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

K.... K1-b0? This - this must be you, right?

I’ve been waiting for this moment since the beginning of the chapter 3 trial! Finally, the explanation I’ve been craving! If - if the inner voice is coming into play now - it might actually be a benevolent force, right? Maybe? At this point we just need something to keep us moving forward...

Yes!!!

..... Oops.

“And please choose the right answer this time.”

Okay okay, jeez -

K1... K1-b0? W-Why not - ?

...... remedy the situation. Not save... but fix...???

Voices??? It’s plural now? Does that include me, the player?

K1-b0! Your moment has finally come, with no more lasers or explosions required! hopefully

WAIT

WE’RE OFFICIALLY IN HIS POV NOW???

This is incredibly late game for a protagonist switch b-but okay! also oh god what does that say about Sweetcheeks’s condition -

I’m glad we haven’t completely lost Shuichi. ): He really does look like he’s not with us, though. How can we help him? I joke about how much I love this sprite, but it’s awful seeing him like this.

But apparently Shuichi’s been relegated to the sidelines entirely now, because K1-b0 is entirely focused on Jun - Tsumugi. Oh boy, I almost started thinking of her as Junko. I will not let her hide behind her characters, damn it!

Yes! Yes, exactly! She can’t have it both ways!

YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO BE ANNOYED YOU APPARENTLY WROTE HIM TO BE THIS WAY!!!

Ooh? Yeah, the text is changing at the bottom...

U U H   I’M SORRY YOU CAN’T JUST DROP A BOMB LIKE THAT SO ABRUPTLY -

TSUMUGI LET HIM HAVE HIS COOL MOMENT

HE LITERALLY JUST GOT HIS MOMENT IN THE SUN DON’T JUST UNDERCUT HIM OUT OF NOWHERE 

no seriously she didn’t even give him a chance to build up momentum

The way she’s able to just dismiss him so casually like that, just completely trivializing him, is absolutely brutal. also what plotline lol -

I-I mean I’m joking, he has had a ‘coming to terms with his status as a robot amongst humans and accepting himself’ plotline! Sorta! It’s just been pretty.... well, behind the scenes. I just wished we got to see more of you and Miu together at the very least.

Wait -

He’s been the actual audience’s surrogate? That.... that means his ahoge....... really is the connection to the outside... but also, the only thing holding him back from going kamikaze??? It’s basically an outside force that’s been suppressing his free will?

Oh shit... is that why the game switched us to this POV, for that reveal? Well-damn-played, DRV3!

.....

wow this is getting worse and worse, huh

ALSO OH NO WAY TO SMASH HIS FRAGILE SELF-ESTEEM INTO PIECES

“You know all those hi~lar~ious asides everyone had at your expense about you being no more important than your average kitchen appliance? Guess what - ! They were r i g h t!”

Somehow I wonder if it would have been better if it was the mastermind’s will. At least it would assign him some sense of importance, even if that stinging feeling of betraying his friends would be there. At least he wouldn’t literally just be the subject of some nameless audiences’ whims - as it is, he’s basically been relegated to the status of ‘plaything’.

From Chapter 3 onward, when I was thinking about it, I wasn’t sure originally if I should consider it a force for good or evil - it seemed to be generally benevolent and since he didn’t take any actions against anyone, it was generally okay for me to discard it as an extension of ‘a mastermind whose goal was for everyone to be at odds with each other/kill each other’. He was always one of the most willing to cooperate with the others, too! I even considered if any of his actions had indirectly caused tension or murder, and I couldn’t find any instances where he did. But if he’s been at the beck and call of a third party, who’s been directing him for the sake of entertainment? Well, that’s a completely different story. In that context... everything makes... a lot more sense...

.... Except for his Chapter 5 actions??? He nearly got Shuichi to take him out twice??

Wait, actually - oh, this does change how I might look at him from this point on. How often would he consult the voice? Do the decisions override his own every time? Does that mean he can only make a move at the behest of the audience????

THE WAY HE PUT IT IS EVEN MORE DEMEANING

fhgh I guess that answers one of my questions

THE GIMMICK....

every production buzzword thrown in makes my stomach drop more

S-Shit the last time he had his ‘short-circuiting’ sprite was when Kokichi did his mastermind reveal in tandem with the ‘outside world’ reveal - D:

A.... Are you trying to make them feel bad for you, because I don’t think it’s working -

omg I just realized there would totally be twitter threads and reddit posts and stuff dedicated to this, and I’m trying to imagine the rage!posts that would swarm them as users ran to the internet to bitch about how ‘the robot totally isn’t responding to us anymore!’ and ‘I bet they’re rigging it so the ending goes the way they want! What a cop out ending!’ and hell, one of those more topical ‘let 👏 us 👏 control 👏 the 👏 robot 👏 you 👏 cowards 👏’

K1-B0 WAS THE CAMERA?!?!

..................................

glances at my computer monitor, then back here

ahahaha I am officially part of the outside world!mastermind tomfoolery oh god I’m so sorry everyone

Wait.... wait. Wait! So the Nanokumas’ footage is for the mastermind’s exclusive use? Really?

I... I was under the impression that if this audience was watching everyone, they’d have access to everything....

Then how different would this all look from only K1-b0′s eyes?! Did he know about Kaito’s training, for example? About Kaede and Shuichi’s practical inseparability in the first chapter? Wow, how different would this entire thing look from K1-b0′s exclusive POV?

I’m sorry what?

okay okay she’s going off on a despair rant which is - y’know, great, you do you and whatever - but I think it just turned my brain off a little bit. Like I just got catapulted back to DR1.

A-Are we really turning back to the whole ‘Junko persona’ idea? That she took on that role specifically, and by taking on the role as ‘Junko Enoshima’ she feels obligated to follow it through to the end? B-But...... but??? For a show??? That’s... no, that can’t be right, that’s weird, that’s stupid, that can’t be right....

You gotta admire her dedication to the craft I-I MEAN NO

WHAT THE HELL TSUMUGI

THAT IS NOT A GOOD ENOUGH MOTIVE

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT KIND OF REASON

SHUT THE FUCK UP KOMAEDA AND DON’T LOOK SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS oh that actually felt pretty good

i say this as someone whose previous favourite was komaeda it was very love/hate don’t @ me

Oh hey, the opening music is on! Is this the big turnabout we’ve been waiting for? It’s.... so.... weird that it’s coming from K1b0 now? Also wasn’t this sort of the plot of the DR3 anime via the Ultimate Animator or -

I??? I guess??? Weren’t they all just screaming DESPAIR at Shuichi a minute ago??? Isn’t it their comments on the screen???

Inspirational and all but -

I’m GoINg to cHOkE anD DiE

ULTIMATE HOPE ROBOT

FJKGHSDKLFJ

WHAT ARE YOU KIDDING ME

oh shit well there’s text saying Hope now so I guess something has changed out there

I believe it’s called déjà vu.

No seriously, am I hallucinating? Is this not what led to the whole final vote in DR1 or am I going crazy? Is this... what is.... happening........???? And Shuichi has just completely BSoDed in the corner??? Like, is he disassociating right now? Where is he?

It’s interesting that she looks happy here compared to angry Junko. She looked excited earlier when K1-b0 challenged her too (her new jazz-hands!sprite, lol) too, and her voice is on the brink of. Uh. I’m just going to say it’s getting very.... passionate. Is she just that confident or...?

Oh hey their sprites mirror each other. Parallels. :D

I like how Tsumugi is having Makoto say this part ~

But this brings up a good question... how exactly is this so-called final battle going to work? If they can’t fight for the right to leave, then what can they do?

alksdfj Himiko and Maki have also been so quiet this so time - I almost forgot they were there. K1-b0 and Tsumugi are basically the only ones doing the talking and between all the cosplays it feels like there are way more people here than there actually are - which is the point, I think? It really adds to that oppressive, ‘everyone is against you four’ atmosphere.

“- DETAILS DETAILS anyway it’s happening I don’t really care, now about that special vote ~”

This -

This is literally DR1?!?!

This.... this is strange. There has to be incentive to vote one way or the other. Is she going to tie ‘vote for K1-b0’ and ‘you’ll be forced into a world where you can’t/shouldn’t exist’ together vs ‘Vote for Tsumugi′ and ‘stay inside forever’? That’s.... what happened in the others, right?

Shuichi, mentally clocked out but occasionally checking back in so he doesn’t miss anything important: Wow this is absolute bullshit

Yeah... there’s no way they weren’t going to find a way to tempt you to vote for K1-b0. Okay, lay it on us.

YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE THEM KEEP GOING?!?!

“Ugh why did I let myself get lured back into the conversation by my bitchin’ ‘Lazy Parallel World’ theme song I’m going to mentally check out again because everything hurts and I want to die -”

There.... there aren’t....??

THAT’S NOT ENCOURAGING omg I missed that catchphrase it always made me laugh

I??? I don’t know if I can trust that??? If you can literally make flashback lights to override their old memories - if you can force it on them, whether they’re willing or not - if you can delete the last 24 hours, you could make them do something again??? T-Though if Tsumugi is gone... but then again, there’s a whole team of people behind this apparently! Her being gone means nothing!

“So you cannot leave this place.” Is it? Is it literally, physically impossible to leave this place? That’s the real question. the impossible is possible all you gotta do is make it so... s o b

HOW EVIL CAN YOU GET

HOW COULD YOU NOT EVEN GIVE THEM A POSSIBILITY OF RETURNING TO THEIR ORIGINAL SELVES

WHY WOULD ANYONE MAKE SOMETHING LIKE THAT WHY WOULD THAT BE OKAY FOR A PUBLICLY TELEVISED TV SHOW

For that matter this whole damn series sounds like a snuff film, if actually people are involved. Dear lord, even if they are actually adults - and I desperately hope that if this is true, that the outside world is actually like this, and watches this for fun, then they have a ‘18+’ rule for auditions (actually considering the love hotel exists they must be at least 18 ggh) - even the survivors.... have been killed, in a sense. Their previous selves have been killed. They were dead the moment they entered the world...

So either 16 people consented to ‘dying’ in an existential sense as well as possibly a physical sense, or 16 people were kidnapped and ‘killed’ for the entertainment of the world. I.... I actually... do at least believe, no matter what, that there is a depraved audience viewing this from somewhere. There’s no way there isn’t - this feedback via comments, the scene with that kid Makoto watching this at the beginning of this chapter - those are true. And they were more than okay with the idea of these people dying for their entertainment, even the so-called winners.

You can only create new identities, not recover them... I, I dunno. Somehow that’s so much more soul-crushing than a lot of the other things that have come up this trial.

t-the way his voice is breaking skdlfjgh -

W HA T!?

WHAT THE FU -

WHY?! WHY?! WHY MUST IT ONLY BE TWO, EVERY TIME?! WHY HAVE YOU BEEN SO DETERMINED TO ONLY HAVE TWO PEOPLE SURVIVE TO THE END?!

H.... How the hell.... are they supposed to do that?! Is that how you’re doing it?! Putting the burden of the decision on them, in order to break them?!

H-HE LITERALLY SOUNDS LIKE HE’S GOING TO BREAK DOWN SOBBING ANY SECOND I CAN’T TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS

She is really trying to push that point, huh... but there it is. They can escape to the ‘outside world’. That is a cold comfort at this point, but...

They...... I don’t. I don’t know. I wouldn’t be able to do this - look my classmates in the eyes and condemn them. I guess this somehow managed to be worse than DR1.

K1-B0 NO

fml of course the only potential option would be students choosing self-sacrifice

I... I’m glad Shuichi is showing concern. I’ve noticed it a few times, how finally in the last chapter or so that he’s been observant of K1-b0′s well-being where the others haven’t been.

But I’m getting distracted - that’s not the point! FML I know he’s been shown those extremist tendencies towards the vague ideal of hope and destroying the despair, I - between this and the ‘destroying the school’ rampage he went on - what is he aiming for? You’re saying that you’re trying to defeat despair, but what is that? Is hope just the opposite of despair? Is despair just whatever Tsumugi says it is, so we’re immediately opposed to it, as the representatives of hope? Are you fighting for them to escape? Why is everyone surviving together ‘living despairful lives’ if Tsumugi is gone and they aren’t trying to kill each other anymore? What makes it that way? Why is this considered ‘defeating despair’? What does that even mean?

I... I guess K1-b0 would be punished anyway if they voted for him, but.... still....

Ugh, I get it. I get that kibou is hope, and that K1-b0 is therefore hope, and that we’re fighting for him to win or... something.... uhghghgh

DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE SHUICHI

This was such an uncomfortable parade of ~ideal waifus~ sdlkfjsdf especially when we were getting into the ‘super tiny/cute’ territory because I have absolutely no interest in that whatsoever also I accidentally deleted Mahiru’s cameo sorry -

.... I wonder if this would’ve been more effective if I was the target audience for this? Either way, ending on Junko was still an offsetting choice, right? Right??

..........

Wait for that matter, who was this aimed for? Who out of Maki, Himiko or Shuichi would have fallen for that? Even if you believe that Maki or Himiko have an interest in women, nothing about the types they showed or may have shown interest in the game (Maki @  Kaito, Himiko @ Angie, Tenko and hell, even Kokichi) would lend them to the girls Tsumugi just cosplayed as? And even Shuichi’s strongest interest were in Kaede and Kaito - so who is Tsumugi trying to appeal to here?!

Oh shit we’re going into a mass panic debate! Okay, okay okay - !

.... Oh. Oh boy, I have to shoot down every mention of despair. Uh, okay -

OMFG I missed the screenshot but Monokuma started shilling their merch and their website I cannot even deal with how they’ll occasionally devolve into corporate shilling it’s so good -

But!!! We’ve got better things to do than get caught up in Monokuma’s commercializing of the class trial!

MAKI

NO MAKI WHY

ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE UP FOR LAST CHAPTER IS THAT WHAT’S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW

omg

are you telling me

you’re not even doing this out of guilt

it

it’s spite

you’re doing this out of spite

you’re sacrificing yourself purely ou t of spite

MAKI HOW MANY TIMES ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE MAKI, AGAIN??? AGAIN?!?!?!”

“LET ME KILL SOMEONE SAIHARA IT’S MY DAMN TALENT FFS -”

DOES THIS SCREENSHOT SAY ‘SHUICHI LOOKS YUMMY <3′ YOU’RE RUINING THE MOMENT

okay I’m not going to feel right until I write down the new set of comments

Makiiii

my darling assassin T_T

Hope lives on!

Shuichi looks yummy <3

Well said!

Another hope loop?

Hope is contagious!

Two steps forward...

Don’t lose to despair!

Don’t tempt Maki’s fate...

That’s my Maki.

Hope must go on!

Maki, darling...

;_; I’m gonna cry...

Hope vs despair!

one vote for Keebo!

tfw you’re in despair

ALL OF THESE TEARS

Assassiiiiiiiin

I am living for these comments and I would have killed to see the comments for the Chapter 5 trial - hell, the Chapter 4 trial. that’s what let’s plays and YT comments are for I suppose -

tbh I think if that one that keeps lusting after Shuichi comes to help we’re going to need a restraining order

o

o-oh?!

AAAAAAH

NO DON’T

MAKE ME FIGHT HIM

MY ACTUAL SOUL BRO

is............... Is that -

Clair de Lune playing......?!

[augmented-beauty]

I’m so so sorry that it took me ages @elie-darkenstein High school fucked me up and I’ve been on one of the longest hiatus ever. I just hope that you’ll like what I wrote and that the wait will be somehow worth it. (Edit: I actually posted it on october as a tumblr anwer, but it somehow was eaten by a blackhole and nobody gave a fuck about it, it did not pop up if searching for Jesse McCree content, so yeah). 

Warnings: angst with a happy ending (because I’m a weak bitch, hope you don’t mind)

Word count: 1363

That was meant to be an easy mission somehow. You and Jesse just needed to go and get the hostages safe, and Morrison’s plan was working so well. But when everything seemed to be safe, when the mission seemed to be done and the three of you made it to the hostages, some enemy soldiers were able to reach your position, and the only thing that you and Jesse could do was covering Jack while he took the hostages to the safe area and fight back in the pouring rain. That was not the easy thing, considering the enemy’s evident numerical superiority, but you had to, for those innocents’ sake. Being part of Blackwatch means that you do the shit that normal soldiers won’t normally do, and you both know it. It also means that sometimes you have to give support to the “regular soldiers”. The pouring rain was helpful somehow: the opponent’s vision was compromised, but that was the same for you too. Jesse seemed to be perfectly at ease though, but that was not your case, not completely. The fight was pretty quick, and you played it on the defensive, straying hid and shooting at the perfect time. Too bad that you missed one of them, but you did not notice it. That man was only lightly injured and disappeared out of your sight. When enemies seemed to be all dead you left your safe spot, ready to come back to the others. But suddenly you heard some footsteps, and in a second you realised that you did not reload your weapon, and Jesse didn’t either. You instinctively reloaded at the speed of light, but before you could do anything Jesse was right beside you, pushing you away, and that bullet reached his chest instead of your head. Without any shame, you hit that man back, head-shooting him. It took you a moment to realize what has just happened, and when you do you toss your gun on the ground and kneel next to Jesse, scared as never before.   “Oh my God.” you reach for your headphone and contact the rest of the team while pressing firmly on his wound to stop the bleeding “Medical assistance required, and please, please be quick.” “(y/n), what happened?” Gabriel asks while you tore away a label of your shirt with the intention to replace your hand with it “Jesse’s been shoot, there’s no time to waste, he’s losing too much blood.” “Angela and I are getting there. Calm down and try to stop the bleeding if you can.” Hearing Ana makes you feel a bit better, but this does not last long. You check Jesse’s pulse, and it’s too weak for your own likings. You try as hard as you can to stop the bleeding, but if Ana and Angela don’t reach you quickly it’ll be too late to save him.   “Are you ok…sweetpea?” he’s breathing pretty fast already, and this gives him some trouble to speak properly “Yeah, that son of a bitch did not shoot me if that’s what you mean. But don’t speak, take deep breaths.” it’s like you’re speaking with yourself too, you feel panic eating you alive. Yet, you have to stay focused and try to keep him alive until Ana and Angela will reach you “You’ll be alright Jesse, you’ll make it out of this, Ana and Angela are on their way.” as you speak, you get him to rest his head on your lap, holding him close to you “I…I would never imagine that I would leave you like this…I wish that I could spend more time with ya…but at least you’re safe and sound.” “You’ll spend plenty of time with me if that’s what you want. You’ll survive, you hear me? Don’t act like you’re a goner” “But I’m not so far from being one.” he pauses briefly “And I gotta tell you some important things…so that I can eventually die at peace.” You almost want to answer back and remind him that everything is going to be ok, but deep down you know that there’s a high probability for him to die right here and now. A sob escapes from your mouth before you can actually speak “Go on then.” you finally tell him, tears running down your cheeks just like the rain. “You’re more than a friend to me, (y/n), and I wish I told you sooner.” you can’t believe what you just heard, but you wait patiently for him to take another breath “You’ve caught my attention immediately, and I’ve fallen pretty hard for ya darlin’, I can’t deny it.” answering him is impossible at the moment, so many emotions are running through your mind “Right now it doesn’t matter if it is not the same for you, but I needed you to know how I really feel.” “Jesse, how could I not feel the same for you?” his eyelids look heavier now, and he’s probably going to pass out soon “Hey, none of that now. Stay with me, cowboy. Please…please don’t die on me.” you almost whisper For all this time you pressed on his wound like your own life depended on this gesture. Now that it seems like there’s no more hope for Jesse, Ana and Angela are finally by your side. You take your hand away only when they tell you to do so, and hope for the best as the three of you get away from this hell. Back at base, Jesse gets immediately operated. You wait for him outside, unable to stop thinking that this is all your fault. You missed a shoot and then you lowered your guard and gave the enemy the chance to hit you. You just needed to be more careful, and Jesse wouldn’t be in danger.  You don’t even know how much time has passed and your gaze is focused on your blood-stained hands, every attempt of getting them clean is useless. After what feels like an eternity, Ana gets out of the operating room and explains everything to you. The surgery went well, but they’re keeping him under observation: there’s a high probability for him to have a cardiac arrest. You clean yourself up and then immediately go and visit Jesse, even if he’s still unconscious. You take place right next to his bed, and there’s no way that you’re gonna leave soon. He looks peaceful now, or something really close to it. You spot a clock hanging on one of the walls, and suddenly you realise that you’ve been up for almost 24 hours straight, but you don’t feel tired or sleepy. There’s no way you’re gonna get some rest, not before knowing that Jesse will completely recover. You hand instinctively reaches out for his, caressing the back with your thumb. Time flows so slowly, and you cling to the regular sound of the heartbeat monitor, hoping that silence will never replace it. All of sudden, his hand twitches under your touch and looking up you catch him opening his eyes, leaving you speechless and relieved. His gaze is immediately on you “(y/n)?” “Well, hello there. Are you feeling better?” you manage to ask without tearing up “Yeah, kind of.” he falls silent for a moment, your hand still holding his “I’m a bit nervous to ask this but…you remember when I told you that I did not want to know if you reciprocate my feelings, right?” you just nod, finding his sudden shyness extremely cute “Well, I changed my mind.” “Looks like you did not hear or remember what I told you.” you get up, get closer to his face and kiss him, not even knowing where all this boldness comes from “Is this enough to get things more clear to you?” It’s evident that you caught him off guard, but a couple of seconds are enough for him to get back to his normal confident state “Well, that was helpful, but one more would be perfect for me.” “Always so cheeky.” you reply, trying to sound like you’re complaining, but truly you love that side of him. You oblige happily, a goofy smile on both his and your face.

[the-demelza-robins]

on the rarity of sunshowers (jily)

notes: no matter how hard I try, I always come back to hogwarts!jily...

words: 3.7k

James is jumpier then usual. Lily notices at breakfast; notices how he almost stabs his toast when he tries to butter it, how he catches his snitch twenty-six times in nine minutes, how he says, “Alright, Evans?” on no less than three separate occasions (not that she minds). He fidgets enough that Sirius threatens to expel him to the first years’ seats on the far side of the table, something that causes him to attempt to hold his breath in a bid for stillness until he’s turning blue, and Lily has to resuscitate him with her wand (not that she minds). He runs his fingers through his hair so that it looks even more messy than usual. He asks Lily to Hogsmeade, and when she declines, he says, “Just joking”, and her heart aches. She wants to accept his offer, but she can’t be sure it’s a genuine one. And she must be sure.

The fact is that she has fancied James Potter far too long — a year now, starting in year six all the way up to this rainy day in December — for anything to happen. It’s a cruel twist of fate, the way that their doomed love story worked out. Lily despises it for a number of reasons, the first and foremost being that perhaps the best comeback of her life, when she’d swore she preferred the giant squid to James Potter, was no longer true - in fact, it was a blatant lie, the most opposite of the truth she could get. She would take James Potter over most things, now, including her sister.

Though perhaps that wasn’t saying much, seeing as her sister hadn’t invited her to her wedding. Apparently it had been a simple affair, a quiet wedding on the countryside. Lily could imagine it: Vernon’s new car parked close enough that the guests could still admire it but far enough away that it could melt into the hills, a cake, short vows, a proper bride. Music, but not too much, and a big, white tent with turrets that would blend in with the overcast clouds above.

Yes, Lily could picture it. But that was all she could do, because she hadn’t been invited and, as were the natural progressions of such things, had not attended. What made the situation worse was that, because of Lily’s absence, none of Petunia’s family had been there on her wedding day. Still, Lily reasoned, it was Petunia’s choice.

Petunia blamed Lily for a lot of things, the most important of which being the death of their parents. When the news of their deaths had first broke, Lily had told her sister they’d died in a car accident, and in a way they had, since their car had been blown up by Death Eaters. It had turned into a rather large scandal when Petunia was informed of the truth by way of Snape, who set about destroying Lily’s life once he realized she’d never talk to him again. Petunia had been hurt, but instead of channeling the hurt into anger and the anger into action, like Lily would’ve done, Petunia had spat and stomped and called names that Snape must’ve also taught her, names like mud-

Well. No use thinking about any of that now. Lily turns her attention back to Marlene’s nervous assessment of the weather, the way that her best friend twists with the promise ring she’d received from her Durmstrang boyfriend as she looks up at the enchanted ceiling. “No clouds, just rain, a sunshower…”

Lily wonders why this matters; seeing as they don’t have Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures (it’s a Saturday), there’s no reason for them to go outside. Lily, for one, has been planning on curling up by the fire in the Gryffindor common room and reading The Shining, a muggle book that had been her father’s last gift to her. She finds it quite intense, but on a day like today, with the rain pattering against the window, she thinks it’d be nice to escape to another world, a world where the supernatural only existed in the Overlook Hotel… She let her thoughts drift again, back to her father, who would tell her and Tuney stories before bed until she insisted she’d outgrown them. There had been one, she remembered, that involved dragons, and a little boy who was fighting them, cheered on by people in the clouds. What she’d give to hear one of his stories again…

“Lily! Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”

The world comes back into focus again as Dorcas snaps her fingers in front of Lily’s face repeatedly.

“Of course,” she responds hotly, flinching away from her friend’s fingers. It’s a lie, of course, but she’s been lying a lot lately and now do so without thinking and without giving anything away.

“Then will you please answer my question?”

Across the table, James and Sirius are now debating heatedly. Lupin and Peter are looking on with expressions of mild amusement. Lily wonders what they’re talking about.

“Hello?” Dorcas says. “My question: will you bring the sign for the game, or will I?”

“What game?” Lily asks, and she knows she’s made a mistake as soon as the words have left her mouth. James and Sirius stop their conversation and stare, open-mouthed, at her, something that she hasn’t seen them do in quite a while.

“What game?” James echoes disbelievingly, his snitch buzzing around his head like those birds in the cartoons Lily used to watch when she was younger.

In fact, the snitch is going so fast that watching it is making Lily dizzy, so she closes her eyes for a few seconds and says, “Will you please control your snitch? I’m getting nauseous.”

“Give it to me, mate,” she hears Sirius say, and the sounds of James’s muffled protests bring a smile to her face. They’ve forgotten her slip-up, or at least she thinks they have. For now she’s remembered what she missed, and she can’t believe she’d been that stupid. She opens her eyes and turns to Dorcas. “I’ll bring the sign.”

Her friend nodded, something like relief crossing her face. “Thanks, Lily.”

Marlene, however, doesn’t look as pleased. All nerves from before - Lily realizes why her friend had been nervous, it was because she was Gryffindor’s keeper -  have vanished as she questions her friend. “Why were you zoning out?”

Because James is sitting across from her, and sometimes his knee accidentally touches hers. Because Petunia is still not talking to her, and though Lily is strong enough to handle it, her sister had gotten married for Merlin’s sake and she hadn’t been invited. Because her parents are dead and The Shining is scary and sometimes she just wants to hear her father tell her a story before bed like he used to…

“Just tired,” Lily responds, flashing her friend a quick smile before standing up. “I think I forgot something upstairs. I’ll be back.”

“Quidditch starts in twenty minutes!” Dorcas hollers after her receding form.

“Oh, Merlin, we’d better get going…” James says, and then Lily’s out of earshot and alone with her thoughts. She takes her familiar path up to Gryffindor tower, thankful that everyone else is either at breakfast or on the pitch. She needs time to reset, time to stop the ever-growing lump in her throat before her eyes get watery. It’s happening more and more lately, that terrible feeling that surfaces when Lily thinks about everything, really thinks about it - Petunia, the wedding, Voldemort, her feelings for James - that terrible feeling that summons tears to her eyes almost immediately. At this point, she’s running on fumes, trying to keep up with everything in her personal life, plus schoolwork, plus being Head Girl.

By the time she convinces herself that everything is fine, she’s reached the Fat Lady. With the muttered mention of treacle tarts, the portrait swings open to admit her, and Lily climbs into the common room. Like the rest of the castle, it’s empty save for a few cats curled up on the comfier armchairs, but Lily pays them no mind as she crosses the space and walks up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. She finds the sign that Dorcas had in mind quickly — it was furled on her friend’s bed, its letters flashing red and gold at a speed that was guaranteed to give Lily a migraine — and lets herself stop in front of the mirror on her way out. Her eyes aren’t damp, which is good, and her face isn’t flushed. She shows no outward sign of distress, which she supposes is a point in her favor. It’s taken her a long time to control her feelings (which is a mushy word for those urges she gets to cry all night or yell mindless insults)  — fifth year and below were a time when no one was safe from Lily Evans’ temper — but the war has hardened her, made her less accessible than she ever was.

She hears the cheer of the Quidditch crowd and knows she’s late. Grabbing the sign, she sprints from the dormitories to the common room, from the common room to the portrait hole, from the portrait hole to the entrance hall, and from the entrance hall to the pitch. It’s almost impossible to spot her friends in the sea of red-and-gold clad Gryffindors in the stands, so she resigns herself to sitting alone in the first seat she can find. The sign pulses underneath her cold fingers, and as the paper gets populated with tiny raindrops, she remembers that it’s raining.

“Lily!” She looks over at the sound of her voice to find Dorcas waving at her three rows up. “Come sit with us!”

Lily obliges, and once she’s sat down, she hands the sign to Dorcas, who thrusts it in the air immediately. “You’re seriously out of it today — YES, MARLENE! GO LIONS! —, did you know that?”

“Maybe,” Lily mumbles, her eyes searching the pitch for a certain Chaser. When she can’t find him, she turns back to her friend, conscious of Remus and Peter listening in.

“Can I ask why?” “No.”

Dorcas looks like she’s about to respond, but before she can, the sky rumbles and truly opens up in a way that suggests that the morning’s sunshower was just a prelude to the storm that is about to occur. The Quidditch players seem like nothing more than streaks through the sheets of rain that tumble down, and Lily finds herself soaked to the bone.

“Did you pack an umbrella?” Dorcas asks, looking similarly wet.

Lily shakes her head.

“I did,” a new voice says, and Lily’s surprised to see that Mary Macdonald has been sitting on the other side of Dorcas the whole time. Though Mary is a Gryffindor in their year, Lily has never had a meaningful conversation with her — in fact, Lily thinks she’s talked more with Hufflepuffs —  for she’s a very quiet girl whose nose can most often be found in a book. Besides, Lily had never felt the need to amass more friends; Dorcas and Marlene had always been more than enough, compensating not only for Lily’s lack of friends earlier in life but also for Petunia’s absence, once the sisters’ relationship had reached that point. Lily sometimes felt a little guilty that she didn’t know Mary or Alice Fortescue, the fifth occupant of their dormitory, as well, but comforted herself in the fact that the latter had never been very eager to make friends with her, seeing as her best friend had always been Frank Longbottom.

Now, though, Lily is extremely grateful for Mary Macdonald, especially as she produces a very large umbrella and opens it, shielding the three of them from the rain.

“Thank you,” Dorcas says, and Lily echoes her. She can barely hear Amos Diggory’s commentary over the sound of rain hitting the ground, and she has no idea what the score is. Still, she tries to focus on the game, but as soon as she does so, the players all drift downward and touch the ground.

“What’s going on?”

“Gryffindor’s called a time out, I think,” Mary says so quietly that the sound of the rain almost carries her voice away.

It’s a split-second decision, but one that Lily makes with very little difficulty. She’s tired, tired of everything in her life, but one thing she’s especially tired of is hiding. Hiding her watery eyes and flushed face; hiding her anger with Snape, left over from when he first called her that word; tired of hiding how she much she hurts and aches; tired of hiding how she feels when James Potter’s knee touches hers underneath the crowded breakfast table. She’s tired of it all, and she knows how to alleviate some of the exhaustion.

She stands up, and the rain batters her. The time-out has not yet ended, and now that she’s higher up, she can see the scoreboard: it’s 0-60, Slytherin.

“Where are you going?” Dorcas asks, a look of concern on her face. “You’ll freeze.”

“Down,” Lily replies, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, she races to the pitch, the rain pelting her back as she reaches the muddy field. She can see him now, the way he’s talking to his team, the look on his face suggesting the relentless optimism he’s trying to instill in his teammates.

When she’s ten feet away, he sees her. His mouth stops forming words, and he stares. “Lily?”

“James,” she says, and the whole team is watching her now, maybe even the whole pitch, but it doesn’t feel that way. She notices his misty glasses (it’s a wonder he even saw her coming) and keeps walking towards him. The team breaks their huddle to let her through, their eyes on her wearily, no doubt wondering why she’s so, so close to their captain…

James breathes in deeply — she’s close enough to hear it — and says, “Lily, what are you —”

She lifts her hand and takes off his glasses, and he blinks.

“Impervius”, she whispers (she’s always had a knack for wandless magic, something she’s very proud of), and his lenses clear up immediately.

“It repels water,” she says by way of explanation. She hands the glasses back to him, and he puts them on.

“Right. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Oi! Are we gonna play Quidditch or not?” yells the Seeker for the team (Lily doesn’t remember his name, only that he’s a fourth year and apparently doesn’t care that he’s stopped her from saying something impulsive, like I love you or I’m sorry).

“Please win,” she says instead, and walks off the pitch, feeling James’s eyes on her.

***

The final score is 200-70, Gryffindor, and Lily finds that she’s not quite as annoyed at the Seeker as she was during the time-out. Dorcas peppers her with questions almost as soon as the match is over — “Lily, what did you do to James?” being the most notable one — but Lily ignores her, because that moment felt private, even with countless eyes on them.

Marlene rushes right at them, only pausing at the last second to laugh at how terrified they both look at the sight of her. She’s muddy and grinning, and sweeps them into a hug immediately, covering them in mud and letting the heavy rain immediately clear it from their skin. Dorcas starts to complain about the clothing stains she’ll get from the mud, but Lily can tell that she doesn’t really care.

“Party in the common room!” Marlene almost screams, and Dorcas mutters something about how she’ll be deaf by the time she’s thirty, but Marlene doesn’t care and Lily doesn’t either, for she feels happy for the first time in quite awhile. When the hug finally ends, Lily looks at Marlene again, abandoning all subtlety.

“Has James left the changing rooms yet?”

Marlene smirks. “He was packing up his things when I left.”

“I’ll be back,” Lily replies, leaving Dorcas looking positively scandalized.

***

The walk to the changing rooms takes about a minute and a quarter, but to Lily it feels much longer. She shoulders through the crowd of happy Gryffindors and defeated Slytherins, trying to control her loudly beating heart. She knows that James is still in the changing rooms, knows because she can feel it and also because no overzealous Gryffindors are lifting him triumphantly on their shoulders.

She reaches the door to the structure and knocks twice. It’s opened, almost immediately, by James, his bag swung over his shoulder, broomstick in hand.

As soon as he processes who it is, his smile turns into a frown. “Lils? What are you doing here?”

Lily looks around the room, making sure that they’re alone. When she sees that they are, she closes the door, takes a shuddering breath, and turns to him. “Good job today.”

“Thanks,” he says, dropping his bag and broomstick and sitting on the bench in the middle of the room. “Is something wrong?”

She twists her fingers together. “James, I’ve been wanting to say this for awhile now, and —”

He cuts her off, standing up again bench and moving towards her. He puts his hands on her shoulders and looks right at her, and Oh Merlin, those eyes — “Lily, are you okay?”

“I’m not, but that’s not the point. Ever since sixth year, I’ve —”

“You’re not okay? What’s going on? You have been seeming off lately, I was going to ask —”

“James, would you please just listen to me!”

“Right, er, sorry.” He takes his hands off her shoulders and leans back a little, and Lily misses his closeness.

“Ever since the sixth year — and I know this’ll be hard for you to believe, but, well, here it is — ever since the sixth year I’ve had feelings for you, and at first I thought that they would pass, but it’s been a year, James, and I —”

He closes his eyes. “Lily —”

“James, would you please let me finish, I promise I’ll bugger off after —”

He opens his eyes, adjusts his glasses. “Lily, you don’t understand.” His hands find her waist, and Lily realizes that she’s misinterpreted his response. “Since fifth year,” he whispers, and she feels something opening inside of her, like the sun peaking through the clouds, “since fifth year, Lily, I’ve liked you a lot more than I should admit.”

She looks up at him. They’re so close, in more ways than one; Lily can feel them standing on the edge of something amazing, can feel James’s hands on her back, can feel the way he’s leaning in ever so slightly. “I’m glad we’ve got that settled, then,” she whispers.

He smiles, and then he kisses her. It’s nothing like Lily would have expected, no awkward moment when they’re trying to figure out how to hold each other, where to put their hands — in fact, to Lily’s overloaded and dazzled mind, it’s like they just fit, like they’re picking up from where they left off in a past life. She doesn’t think about this too much, though, because James is pulling her closer and she’s wrapping her arms around his neck and messing with his hair and feeling his smile against her lips, and she’s thinking that maybe they should get more comfortable, because she doesn’t intend on going to that party for a while, not when she and James have just stumbled upon something new and wonderful, not when James is backing her slowly against the wall —

“Oops!”

She jumps away from him and looks towards the door, which has been thrust open by Dorcas and Marlene. By the sound of it, Marlene spoke, now, her eyes find Lily’s, flashing invisible thumbs-up signs.

“Hullo, ladies,” James says evenly, and Lily can’t even imagine what they must look like right now. She finds she doesn’t care, though, because James is here and he’s hers, at least for now.

“Lily, we just wanted to tell you that, erm, we found your necklace in the stands,” Marlene says, holding up a star necklace that Lily’s always been particularly fond of.

“I guess it fell off,” Lily replies lamely, walking further out of James’s vicinity to take it from her friends.

“Well, that’s it…” Dorcas says, clearing her throat.

“Carry on!” Marlene adds loudly, and Lily scowls as they tumble out of the room, slamming the door shut on their way out.

“They’re ridiculous,” she says, pretty sure she’s blushing.

James walks over to her, the corner of his mouth — a mouth that had just been on her mouth, sweet Merlin — quirked up slightly. “We all are, to be honest.”

“Should we go to the party?” As soon as the words leave her mouth, Lily realizes what a stupid thing to say it is.

“Sure,” James says, and his half-smile turns into a grin. “Only if you’ll come as my date, though.”

“You don’t bring dates to common room parties, Potter,” Lily scoffs, trying to contain her own smile.

“Well, Evans, considering I’m captain of the team that just thrashed Slytherin, I think I can do what I want.”

“If you say so.” The smile breaks through, but it’s not like she feels bad about it. He shoulders his broomstick and bag, looks around the room one more time, and takes Lily’s hand.

“Shall we?”

***

Lily is happier than usual. James notices it on the walk back to the castle; notices how she smiles up at the sky, how she squeezes his hand while he talks about the match, how she invites him to go to Hogsmeade with her (“A real date, James, where we go someplace that’s not in the common room”), how she blushes when they walk through the portrait hole, hand in hand, to the sound of wolf-whistling and shouted congratulations — James notices all these things, and hopes that she stays happy. He promises himself that he’ll keep her happy for as long as she’ll have him — this month, maybe, or this year, or (if he’s lucky), the rest of her life.

[in-anotherlife-au-blog]

Keep it Professional | Chapter Three

PRESENT

Kara makes her way into work, the events of the night prior weighing on her and she can’t help but feel some sort of…satisfaction? Lena showing up and announcing her love for her was one thing, but then spending the night with her?

 What was she going to tell Lucy? Better question, did she even have to tell Lucy? They never explicitly went over the details of their relationship but there’s a part of Kara that can’t help but feel guilty.

Her phone is ringing in the other room and she doesn’t have to look to know who it is. She never did change that ringtone even after their “breakup.”

EIGHT MONTHS EARLIER

“You can’t be serious,” Lena laughs as Kara sets the girl’s ringtone.

“As serious as I can be,” Kara replies sticking her tongue out. “Besides, I think it’s sweet.”

Lena’s eyes furrow, “I don’t think R. Kelly’s Remix to Ignition is sweet, but whatever makes you happy my love.”

Their eyes meet and for once there’s something more. More than just desire being conveyed, there’s a hint of longing and a hint of…Kara can’t quite put her finger on it but it’s different. The way she looks at Lena, it’s different.

"When do you have to head into the office?" Kara asks avoiding whatever that looking longing meant.

Lena rolls over to grab her tablet from her side table, "Not for another hour," she says rolling back over to Kara.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Lena's brow arches, "Best 2 out of 3 on Mario Kart?"

"I knew I was keeping you around for a reason," Kara says planting a kiss on the other girl's cheek before heading into the living room.

xxx

It's an impossible day at work and the only thing getting the CEO through her day is knowing that Kara's meeting her after work. She smiles a goofy grin and immediately catches herself because the last thing Lena needs to be feeling, is actual feelings. 

Kara (9:27 AM): So guess who just got assigned to the latest L-Corp project?

Lena (9:28 AM): Is it that sexy Snapper Carr?

Lena giggles at her own joke.

Kara (9:30 AM): Well that's just rude.

Kara (9:32 AM): I suppose I can just take my Noonan's coffee and scone elsewhere then...

Lena scoffs and quickly smiles before typing out a response.

Lena (9:32 AM): You know I've only got eyes for you, when are you coming by then?

She hits send before she realizes what she's said. The panic sets in quickly and before Lena can type up another text to the reporter there's a soft knock on her door and Jess announcing she has a visitor.

"Miss Luthor, Kara Danvers here to see you," she announces.

Lena drops her phone with a clatter and immediately stands to straighten herself out.

"Thank you Jess," Lena replies eying the blonde that's just entered her office.

"Miss Danvers, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Lena asks gesturing for her to take a seat on her sofa.

Lena notices the lack of engagement from the blonde and it hits her that Jess has been waiting for a command of some sort.

"That'll be all Jess, thank you," Lena dismisses her and catches Kara eying her assistant from behind.

"Really Kara?" Lena says rather dully.

"Miss Luthor, you know I only have eyes for you," Kara feigns innocently.

"Caught that did you?" Lena pouts taking up the space next to the reporter. "I didn't mean it to sound so..." she gestures into the air for her next words. "I didn't mean it to sound so...relationshipy."

"Relationshipy? A Stanford graduate and a Luthor no less uses words like relationshipy?"

Lena's starting to get frustrated but when she sees Kara fighting back a grin she realizes she's being teased.

"You're awful," Lena replies. "Now where's that coffee you were telling me about?"

Kara blushes, "Well you see...I had to bribe your doorman to let me in...He was very adamant about not letting someone up without an appointment."

Lena raises an eyebrow, "And the scone?"

Kara huffs, "Well, when I got up here I had to bribe Jess to let me in..."

"So what you're saying is, is that you don't have any treats for me?"

"Lena you literally run a billion dollar company, surely we can go and find some treat for you," Kara argues.

"What if the treat I want can't be bought?"

Kara's puzzled for a second but one look at Lena and the girl's hunger from that morning is suddenly back.

"OH..Oh you want...Oh..."

"Yes, I want," Lena replies.

"Why Miss Luthor, are you propositioning me? In the middle of the day no less?"

"I am and I will have what I want."

Kara whimpers slightly and squeezes her thighs together, the want practically dripping off of her. Lena sidles up closer to the blonde, her lips hovering over Kara's right ear sending chills down her spine.

"I know you came for work," Lena starts. "I know you came this morning," she continues. "But right now, I really want to make you come again and after that, we can do all the work you want."

Kara's head is spinning in lust and really who is she to deny a beautiful woman in wanton need?

She's Kara fucking Danvers, that's who and after she comes twice, she makes sure Lena does too.

xxx

Lena's running late and Kara really shouldn't be annoyed but she can't help it. Her and Lena were practically joined at the hip for the remainder of the afternoon and only separated when Lena had to attend a last minute finance meeting.

The waiter comes by for a third time since Kara's arrived and as if on cue, her stomach starts to grumble. She knows she should wait for Lena but it's been almost an hour and she hasn't heard from the CEO at all.

"Sorry ma'am, if your other party doesn't show we're going to have to give away the table," the waiter says.

Kara sighs, "I know, I'm sorry. Look I'll just move over to the bar and order from there," Kara says as she begins to gather her things but then she hears a familiar voice.

"Kara? I thought that was you."

"Cat? What are you doing here?"

"Well hello, to you too Kiera," Cat replies. "It's Carter's father's birthday tonight. He's with him and I thought I'd grab dinner and imagine my surprise finding you here. Are you just leaving?"

"Um, no," Kara hesitates. "I was waiting for someone but it doesn't look like they're coming."

"Shame, but I suppose one person's misfortune is my gain. Let's eat? For old time's sake," Cat says and Kara can't say no. It's Cat, Cat freaking Grant and out of anyone that could have walked through that restaurant door, it's Cat that would be the one to make her feel better.

"For time's sake," Kara smiles re-taking her seat.

xxx

"So how's business?" Kara asks.

"You know how business is, you work there," Cat replies. "How's Alex?" Kara smiles, "Still gross and in love with Maggie as she was the first day they met. They're thinking of moving in together."

"Really? Well you'll have to forward me their address so I can send a proper gift."

Kara's filled with...something while she converses with Cat. It's moments like this that she misses. The easy ebb and flow of discussion about anything under the sun.

"Do you really not have plans to come back?" Kara asks and it's as if someone flipped a switch causing the night's previously carefree spirit to suddenly halt.

"Kara..."

The younger blonde smiles through tight lips, knowing what Cat's already going to say.

"You know why I can't stay, it just..." Cat pauses and reaches her hand over the table to lay atop Kara's. "It's not because I don't want to, it's not because I don't want you."

Kara looks up to meet her gaze, "I know. Sometimes it's just hard."

"You're not alone in that, I promise," Cat replies softly grazing her thumb over Kara's hand. "We could restart our phone calls you know."

Kara shakes her head, "I think we stopped doing those for a reason and it's probably best we did."

"I don't disagree with you," Cat replies. "But how about a compromise? One Skype call a month? For Carter."

"For Carter?" Kara asks knowing it isn't just for the child.

"And maybe a little bit for me, but mainly for him," Cat replies and Kara knows she's lying but she entertains her anyways and agrees.

"For Carter, of course."

Kara was ready to steer the conversation in another direction when a woman in a tight black dress catches her attention at the door. It's Lena. The two make eye contact and the CEO quickly makes her away across the restaurant to greet the other girl but when her eyes land on the person across the table, the CEO can't help but feel a swift punch to the gut.

"Cat, I didn't realize you were in town," Lena says rather cross. "Obligations."

"Right," Lena redirects her attention back to Kara. "Kara, I'm sorry I'm late, the meeting snowballed and there just wasn't time for me to message and let you know."

"It's fine, Lena," Kara replies trying to put on a smile in front of the two women. "I ran into Cat and it was fine."

Cat's smirking, enjoying the rather awkward interaction between the two. She's fully aware Kara's downplaying the situation for her sake and she can tell Lena's in for a night of arguing if she keeps it up too.

"Well I'm glad Cat could be here then," Lena replies unsure of how else to handle it.

"Oh, I'll always be here for Kara," and Kara's eyes literally bulge at Cat's response. She eyes the volley of glares between the two CEO's and Kara can't help but feel like a tiny pawn in their game of chess. Just then, the waiter picks this particular moment to come by with the check, which Lena quickly picks up and covers herself.

"For the inconvenience," she replies looking at Kara and then back at Cat. "Thank you for keeping her company, I hope you enjoy the rest of your night."

Lena turns on her heel and struts back across the restaurant and directly into the safety of her car. The second the door shuts behind her, she completely unravels. She tells herself that whatever feelings she was feeling in there, she can't feel again and she sure as hell shouldn't be upset that Kara decided to spend her time with someone else, someone that Kara was very much in love with and for all she knew, was still in love with.

Back at the table, Cat's arms are crossed as she studies the girl across from her.

"That's who stood you up? Kara, really?"

"Don't start," the reporter replies.

xxx

What Lena thought was going to be a fun night was quickly ruined by the gut clenching feeling of seeing Kara with her ex.

The second the CEO stepped inside her home she traded her dress for a pair of sweats and an over-sized hoodie and transformed her usually tight bun into a messy bun atop her head. Grabbing her favorite bottle of Malbec, the CEO settles onto her couch with a bowl of pizza rolls and whatever trashy television show she could find.

She's halfway through her second glass of wine when there's a knock on her door. Lena's skeptical to answer of course, with half the things her mother's tried to pull on her over the last few years, you can never be too safe. She quickly grabs her hidden glock and makes her way to security camera to check and to her surprise it's Kara.

She opens the door and at first Kara hardly recognizes her. With her makeup washed off and big rimmed glasses, this Lena Luthor looks like the actual 27-year-old she's meant to be.

"Kara."

The blonde doesn't answer but instead marches past the CEO and sits on her couch.

"Okay then..." Lena replies shutting the door and taking a seat in the lounger across from Kara but the second she sits the blonde stands and begins pacing.

"What you did tonight was not okay," Kara says looking at Lena and continuing to pace. "I can't, you can't just...Lena I was there for over an hour. ALONE!" The reporter's voice is slightly beginning to rise and Lena can't help but feel guilty.

"Kara, I'm sorry...I couldn't -" the reporter puts her hand up, silencing the CEO and Lena can't help but feel slightly aroused and slightly terrified at the power stemming from the other girl.

"If this is going to work, you can't just not tell me things. You have an assistant, you're telling me that the entire time you were in that meeting you couldn't have sent a message to Jess to reach out to me?"

"Well no, I suppose I could have but I was caught in the moment of contracts. Kara, I assure you I wasn't doing anything intentional and wait...If this is going to work?"

Kara freezes. Shit.

"I didn't mean it like that...This isn't...I know this isn't a relationship."

Those words shouldn't have hurt the brunette but they did, but she'll never admit it. She can't.

"I have to go," Kara says suddenly.

"What? No, Kara, you just got here. Stop, let's talk," Lena says standing. "Let's just...One thing at a time okay?"

Kara looks at her nailbits and then to Lena before taking a deep breath and takes a seat, it's not lost on Lena that Kara picks a single armchair far from her.

"We are an us," Lena says calmly. "But it isn't your conventional type of us."

"We're fuck buddies Lena, there's not a politer way to say it," Kara bites.

"Very well then, if that's how you'd like to crudely put it," Lena replies.

"Well how else would you put it? That's what we do, isn't it? We fuck and we laugh and then we fuck some more and then I go home to my apartment or you go home to yours and then the cycle starts all over again."

Lena feels like she's been slapped across the face. 

"Kara, I care for you."

"Please, stop," Kara says.

"No Kara, I do. I just, I can't...I'm not good at relationships, okay? I'm not good at being a girlfriend. I honestly don't think I've ever been a girlfriend."

"You were to Veronica."

She should have seen that coming, the low blow that she set herself up for but she didn't and she doesn't think it would hurt any less even if she did.

"That's different."

"Is it?" Kara retorts, her eyes slightly glazed with tears.

"Kara, please."

The reporter takes a deep breath, "Look, it shouldn't be this hard. We're friends with benefits, let's just remain that."

Lena wants to tell her everything. Tell her how it isn't just a benefiting relationship for her, that she feels things for Kara. Things that she thought she could never feel with the Luthor name attached to her. She was falling for Kara, ridiculously and helplessly falling for her but she can't. So she doesn't say anything.

The CEO moves to stand in front of Kara, her right arm stretched towards Kara with her palm up. Waiting.

Kara hesitates but ultimately accepts, placing her hand in Lena's and stands. It's almost immediate that Lena's lips are on hers. They're soft and delicate and it makes Kara feel like she has the whole world in her hands. Lena's trying to tell her something through her actions, Kara can tell so she kisses her back with reverie and tries to answer but then she feels the tears and pulls away.

"Lena."

The CEO nods and tilts her head downward.

"You're okay, you're safe with me," Kara whispers just loud enough for the two of them to hear.

Lena looks up, her eyes are brimming with tears that refuse to fall any further and then she kisses Kara again. Harder this time.

"I need you to not be gentle with me tonight," Lena whispers back. "I just...I can't tonight. Kara. Please..."

Kara understands, probably more than Lena knows so she kisses Lena back like she's never wanted anything more in her life and the response from Lena is immediate. Clothes are starting to be strewn across the room and while Kara was going to settle for the couch, Lena's tugging their faces together and making her way down the hall to her room.

She knows that she's going to have to tell her everything soon, but she can't. Not yet. So for tonight, Lena submits herself to Kara and let's herself be taken over. It's what she needs, it's what she wants. And the scariest part is that she knows Kara would do it for her time and time again if she asked. The scariest part of tonight is that Kara stayed.

xxx

PRESENT

"Hey," Kara says answering the phone.

"Hi."

The silence would normally terrify people but between them it was always something special.

"I was wondering if we could meet?"

Kara picks at a loose string in her sweater as Lena talks. She's missed hearing her voice, the way her Irish accent sometimes betrayed her and would make the CEO pout. She missed a lot and last night...Last night was different. Last night was the first time Kara felt something in a long time and she's ashamed to admit it but it's the truth.

"Kara? Are you there?"

"What? Sorry, yeah. An email came through and I just spaced...Sorry."

"Sure, no problem."

Silence.

"So would you be up for it?" Lena asks again.

"Up for..."

"Look, if it's a bad time, I can just forget about it," Lena says.

Kara panics, "Lena no, I'm sorry. I honestly just spaced out, please tell me what you were asking."

Lena sighs and sometimes Kara can't believe the face of L-Corp struggles with talking to her.

"I was wondering if you'd be able to meet."

"To meet."

"To talk."

"To talk."

"Kara."

"Lena!"

"So?"

"Yeah, just let me know the time and place and I'll be there."

"Tomorrow night, place where we first met?"

"I'll be there."

"Until then."

"Until then."

Kara hangs up with a groan, images from the night before flashing before her eyes and she knows she's fucked. Utterly fucked because Kara Danvers was still very much in love with Lena Luthor and no matter what, there is no denying it.

[vivalaskristie]

Chapter 6 All the Single Ladies

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Series Premise: Parallel, behind the scenes, Madeleine and Bastien

A/N: This is my first series, my first AU, because Madeleine and Bastien needed to smash.  I posted and then pulled it because it wasn’t quite right.  It’s still a work in progress.

Warnings for this series: The first sex scenes I’ve ever written, bad language, sneaking around, alcohol, general mischief and the occasional academic symposium.

Chapter 1 Prelude

Chapter 2 Drinks on a Yacht

Chapter 3 A Dark and Stormy Night

Chapter 4 Meanwhile, Back At The Palace

Chapter 5 She’s Gone

Permatags:  @speedyoperarascalparty @burnsoslow @dcbbw @emceesynonymroll @stopforamoment

“Well this is quite a hiding place you’ve found for yourself, Maddie.”

Madeleine looked up from her book toward the source of that familiar voice. She’d had 2 weeks of nobody saying her name without some sort of title in front of it. 

“Well I guess I’m It now, Livvie.”  She smiled at her longtime friend as Olivia sat down on the chaise next to hers and made herself comfortable. 

“You certainly are. In fact I don’t think there’s ever been an It girl like you before.”

“How did you find me?  Did anybody follow you?” Madeleine had to ask, even though she knew that nobody could move around the world undetected like the Duchess of Lythikos. She was a ninja when she needed to be.

Olivia thought about making some wisecrack about her lofty stealth skills, but she knew that Madeleine was genuinely concerned. “No, Maddie. Not even my pilot knows why I’m here. I’m just glad you picked someplace warm. I was afraid you’d be in England somewhere in some terrible Norman castle ruin.” 

Madeleine smiled gratefully. She’d missed Olivia’s company. Ever since they’d all parted after high school, there had been a distance between the group of girls who had once been so close. None of them had chosen to be in whatever competition they found themselves in. They never saw themselves as rivals.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, nodding to accept refills of their drinks. The beach wasn’t crowded, in fact, there were only about a dozen other people sharing it with them, and they were all there because they were of the privileged few who knew how to get access. They all left each other alone, with no curious glances, no questions, no surreptitious selfies that just happened to capture something interesting in the background. This island in the Maldives raised the concept of “privacy” to new levels.

“So are you here to check on me out of the goodness of your kind heart, or is there more?”  

Olivia’s sharp features twisted into an appreciative smirk. The only time that she wasn’t the smartest person in the room was when Madeleine was also in attendance.

“My dear, there’s some intrigue brewing in dear old Cordonia. You need to be aware of it.”

“Nope. I’m done there. I’ve decided to go back to Oxford. I’ve got a place on a research team and they’re delighted to have me. Cordonia can blow.”  Madeleine crossed her arms and felt a rush of adrenaline–she hadn’t told anyone from home about her plans yet, and saying it out loud made it real.

Olivia had always been so proud of Madeleine’s drive. Damn, she always did her own thing whether it fit into anyone else’s plans or not. This wasn’t going to be easy. “The new Crown Prince needs to find a bride.”

Madeleine cracked a laugh before she could stop herself. Oh no no no. She was no longer part of the royal marriage stable, thank you very much. She took a sip of her cocktail and shook her head.

“They’re making it a contest.”

“Of course they are, the fucking vultures. God forbid we make any of our own choices. Who are the other ponies?  Hana?  Penelope? Kiana?”

“Oh so you’ve seen this episode already,” Olivia cackled. “Yes, they’ve gotten the gang back together for young Liam’s approval. If it matters, the word is that he’s not thrilled either. Regina has cooked this up.”

Madeleine frowned. If the Queen was behind this, chances are she’d had some help from scurrilous sources. Her mother was the Queen’s cousin. They weren’t exactly friends, but they operated with similar objectives. They paired up when it suited them. “This smells like Adelaide.”  

Olivia raised her glass in salute. “Five points to the Countess for cracking the code.”

“Shit.”

“You’ve got that right.”

“Have you talked to Hana and Pen and Ki?  Where are they on this?”  Madeleine had begun strategizing without even realizing it.

“About where we are. We all know our lines. But this isn’t like 2 years ago when Leo came sniffing around us all. We’ve done this already. None of us wants to play anymore.”

“Who do they want to win?”

“You.”

“Shit.”

Olivia laughed again, a loud and cynical bark. “Oh my darling Maddie. Look at you already giving two shits about this.”

***

Bastien couldn’t help himself. He liked Liam. The new Crown Prince was smart and serious and aware of his place in the world in a way that Leo had never been. Cordonia would be in good hands with this man on the throne. The transition had gone smoothly because Liam demanded it. It was flawlessly executed. He had a pack of lifelong friends who would grow nicely into their roles as his advisors. The excitement over the abdication and dramatic disappearance of the jilted bride-to-be had faded as the nation turned its attention to the new heir. Cordonia was going to be fine.

His days were long and busy. He’d been hearing about vague future plans for Prince Liam but his focus was on the present and immediate future. Anything beyond the next week was still a variable.

His nights were long and decidedly not busy. He’d finally broken down and texted Madeleine, “checking on you” with no expectation of a reply. He received one the next day and it put him immediately at ease. It was a selfie with the sea and the sky behind her. She was tanned to a lovely golden brown and she looked relaxed and happy. He stared at it a hundred times a day. He wanted more than anything to go to wherever she was, but it was impossible. They were impossible.

Two weeks later, things started happening. He received a request for a meeting with Liam’s chief of staff. Cleaning crews were seen around the palace, airing out long-ignored spaces and polishing the fixtures. The King and Queen abruptly departed for a “vacation” that was not set up like a vacation at all. Nobody asked questions, and that alone was enough to make him suspicious.

His meeting with Liam’s team confirmed all of his suspicions and planted dozens more. This was not going to be good. The Queen had decided that Liam needed to marry ASAP, and since he didn’t have any serious prospects, wouldn’t it be fun to make a spectacle of it with the world watching?  They already had all the players, because everybody knew the “girls”–that made Bastien crazy, because these “girls” were grown women with lives and plans of their own. When they told him who the leading candidate was, he almost walked out of the room. Oh for fucks sake, he thought. What century are they living in?  Regina had obviously been spending booze-fueled afternoons with her dear cousin Adelaide. This was not an idea that was hatched from goodwill or kind intentions. No, it was a fucking circus. He was disgusted. 

He didn’t know who was in on it yet, so he didn’t dare reach out to Madeleine. Hana was in Asia with her family, and Penelope was in the middle of the annual dog show circuit. Kiana was at a UN summit in Geneva. Olivia was off the grid, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. He’d learned not to ask questions about the Duchess of Lythikos and her, um, proclivities. He’d seen her whip a dagger from somewhere underneath an evening gown once and plant it in the wall less than an inch from someone who’d irritated her. She legit scared him.

As he left the meeting with Liam’s team, he felt a hand on his arm. “Bastien, got a minute?”  He turned to see Drake Walker, Liam’s best friend. Drake was also the son of Bastien’s former mentor, who’d been killed in the line of duty. Bastien always had a minute for Drake Walker.

“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

“Is there any way we could take Liam out of the country for some unstructured fun before the Queen’s beauty pageant begins?  He’s stressing about it. He thinks his whole life is already mapped out. I’d like to remind him that it doesn’t have to be.”

Bastien felt a surge of affection for Drake. He was such a good guy. Liam was lucky to have him. “Absolutely. Let me know what you’d like to do, and I’ll prep a team for it.”

“Thanks, Bas. You’re the best. We’re looking at a weekend in Manhattan, just the five of us. No fuss, if we can avoid it.”

“You got it. Book it and send me the details.”  Bastien was relieved that Liam had real friends looking out for him. A trip to New York was just what he needed. What could possibly go wrong?  

He was on his way to the next item on his schedule when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and read the text.

I’m home. 

She knows, he thought. Someone warned her before she got ambushed. He didn’t know who the guardian angel was, but he was grateful. He replied Welcome back. Laying low?

Yes. Needed to be here to put out some fires.

He smiled. She wasn’t going to jump into formation without a fight. 

***

“No, mother, I am not going to marry Liam.”

Adelaide swirled her glass as she rolled her eyes. “Madeleine, you’ve been given a reprieve. This is your chance for redemption. You can show the world that you are good enough to be a queen.”

That stung as it always had. “Good enough” was never good enough for Madeleine’s parents. They didn’t care about her accomplishments; only the reviews were important. She might as well put herself on Yelp and open up the comments.

“Mother, you cannot force me to do this. I do not require redemption. I have obligations that I must fulfill and I will not change my plans.”

Adelaide looked at her daughter with disdain. “Really, Madeleine, what good is another degree?  You’re a countess. You don’t need more school. You need a partner, someone who can elevate you to your rightful place. You’re going to the palace next week and you’re going to get that boy to marry you.”  She drained her glass and waved it vaguely, signaling the footman to refill it. 

There was no point in arguing with her. Adelaide and her husband Godfrey were of the opinion that the only use for a daughter was for the procurement of a significant husband. It had taken years for Madeleine to unlearn her place in their world. She left Adelaide to her scotch and Godfrey to his scorn and she went up to her rooms. 

She opened up the group chat on her phone. It was so good to be in touch with her friends again, all at once. They had missed each other so much!  There was a lot to catch up on; they just needed to get past this one last show.

It’s done. I’ll be at the palace next week. See you soon xoxo.

The replies hit immediately.

PLACES EVERYBODY!

GAME ON, BITCHES

Un pour tous et tous pour un!

Buckle up, Cordonia, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

It was good to have friends.

She debated about texting Bastien. She knew where his loyalties lie. She couldn’t put him in a position where he had to choose between her and the Family–of course he would have to choose them. But god, she wanted him to know that she wasn’t playing this round for real. She’d had a lot of time to think lately, and the realization that her possibilities went so far beyond just marrying well had stunned her. She wasn’t about to let it go.

Do you trust me?

Bastien read the words and everything around him stopped. This was new. They only had the moments as they happened. They’d never talked about things like trust or feelings or the future. Those were beyond the moment. What was she doing?

I trust you.

***

The following week as Madeleine was preparing to go back to the palace, Bastien was putting the final plans in place to secure Liam’s pre-bachelor-party party in New York. It was not an official visit, no galas, no banquets, no ribbon cuttings or bouquets. Five guys on a 3-day pub crawl, tailed by Bastien himself and the ten best members of his team. He hadn’t heard anything more from Madeleine, but he saw that five of the best suites in the palace were being prepared for the suitors. He was dying to ask questions, to find out what was happening.

He trusted her.

Chapter 7

[asemblanceoflove]

Chris Evans Interview: The Marvel star on politics, break-ups, and saying goodbye to Captain America (Robbie Collin, The Telegraph, 10 June 2017)

Chris Evans must be the only man in Hollywood to win his own superhero franchise then pray for it to fail. Back in 2010, the then-28-year-old actor signed a contract with Marvel Studios to appear in half a dozen films – both solo outings and ensemble jobs – as Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, the Avengers’ flaxen-quiffed moral compass.

“One of my biggest fears was that the movies were going to be good,” he says, stroking a beard so keenly edged it might have been trimmed with a laser alignment tool. “Because if things worked out, I’d have to do all six of them. And at the time, that was the most terrifying aspect of it. That it was going to be so dominating, all-encompassing.”

What set Evans apart from his Avengers cohorts – and almost every other actor on the planet, come to that – was that he’d already made one circuit of the comic-book track. He’d played Johnny Storm, the combustible Human Torch, in 20th Century Fox’s nice-but-dim Fantastic Four films in the mid-noughties, until the series stalled after part two.

Playing Cap was a rare opportunity for a second spin on the merry-go-round. But he turned it down three times – a meeting with the Marvel high command finally persuaded him to reconsider – out of fear the role would prove so time-consuming he’d be unable to find space for much else.

Seven years on, with that contract about to come to a close with a two-part Avengers adventure Evans will be shooting until August, that’s more or less exactly what happened. But the actor, now 35 and stretched back in an armchair in a black shirt unbuttoned to the clavicle and with a fox-like smile on his face, looks well on it.

Along with Pine, Pratt and Hemsworth, Evans is one of those Chris actors that seem to be everywhere nowadays: bright-eyed, blond-haired comic-book franchise leading men with a valiant screen presence children fall in love with, and a chiselled, mildly insinuating edge that means their mothers often do likewise.

I’ve caught him fresh from the CBeebies studios in London, where he’s just recorded a rather apposite bedtime story, Shelley Becker and Eda Kaban’s Even Superheroes Have Bad Days, which was presumably commissioned by the BBC children’s channel with both of those audiences in mind.

We’ve met to talk about the latest project the actor has managed to squeeze around his Captain America schedule. Called Gifted, it’s a film about a taciturn boat mechanic called Frank whose seven-year-old niece and ward Mary turns out to be a mathematics prodigy of potentially internationally significant talent.

It cost as much to make as four minutes of the last Captain America film, and is a blockbuster detox both for Evans and its director Marc Webb, who came to it bloody and bruised from The Amazing Spider-Man 2.

Evans had originally hoped to direct the film himself: it would have been his second such job, after an earnest, meandering 2014 romantic drama called Before We Go, in which love springs from a missed train connection. But by the time he’d thought it over the gig had already gone to Webb.

All the same, he was happy to star in it. “Those Captain America movies are great, and I’m proud of every one of them, but on set they’re giant f______ factories, and we spend a lot of time sitting around,” he says. Having last spoken to him on the set of Captain America: Civil War in August 2015, I can corroborate the story: over the course of one day, I watched the actor shoot a single scene in which his character holsters his shield, and he didn’t even have a shield to work with. (It was added in digitally later.)

“But on a movie like Gifted you come home every day and you feel like you got to act!” he glows. “You feel exhausted. You get through eight, nine pages of dialogue. On Captain America, you might get through two pages per day, if you’re lucky. And that’s fine, it’s a different process,” he adds. ‘But there’s something refreshing about that intimate exchange with the other people involved in a smaller film. You feel like you get your hands dirty. “

One of those people was the actress and comedian Jenny Slate, who plays Mary’s teacher, and later Frank’s love interest. Slate and Evans’ romance is so glowingly persuasive that it’s no surprise that the actors became a real-world couple for nine months after filming concluded, shortly after Slate separated from her now ex-husband, Dean Fleischer-Camp. They met after Evans had already been cast, during a series of ‘chemistry reads’ – that is, shared screen auditions to gauge a couple’s on-screen spark.

“Jenny could have chemistry with my f______ shoe,” Evans guffaws. “She just came in and created a very specific dance. She has a natural effortlessness about her, and she just exudes truth.”

In a recent interview with New York magazine, Slate said she had been keen to win the role to show “that it doesn’t always have to be a bikini model opposite Captain America” – which she went on to prove more emphatically than she probably expected.

Evans stresses Slate wasn’t cast for that reason – “we weren’t looking for someone ‘unexpected’” –  and also says he didn’t consider a move in the opposite direction by ‘uglying up’: that indelicately named process by which an actor temporarily divests themselves of their movie-star looks to prove their commitment to a serious part (think Charlize Theron in Monster, or Leonardo DiCaprio in The Revenant).

“You don’t want to do that just for the sake of optics,” says Evans, whose last unabashedly hideous role was as a mob assassin in The Iceman (2012). “I’ve never been one to preoccupy myself with how I’m perceived.”

The couple split in February – partly, said Slate, because Evans’ super-heroic public profile made the actual mechanics of dating in Los Angeles next to impossible. In light of that, you can appreciate why shooting a small film in the quiet coastal townships around Savannah, Georgia, held so much appeal for him between blockbusters.

“It felt like summer camp, you know?” he beams. “We were all away from our friends and family, so we become each other’s.” In the evenings, cast and crew bonded over board games – Evans’ idea – including Running Charades, one of the actor’s favourites. (Imagine Give Us a Clue crossed with British Bulldogs.)

“I love a good game night,” he says. “My family is very competitive. Monopoly back home usually turns into a screaming match.”

Back home is small-town Massachusetts, where Evans was raised in what he describes as “a family of theatre lunatics”. When he was 16, his mother Lisa became the artistic director of the youth theatre company where he and his three siblings spent much of their teenage years. (He says his mother was “thrilled” at the recent news he had been cast opposite his Scott Pilgrim vs. the World co-star Michael Cera in a Broadway revival of the Kenneth Lonergan play Lobby Hero.)

Unlike Mckenna Grace, his ebullient 10-year-old Gifted co-star, he lacked the confidence to be a child actor. “I was a shy little kid,” he says. “I really liked art – drawing and painting – and that’s what I thought I was going to do.”

But on leaving high school in 1998 he was set on course. He moved to New York, took acting classes at the Lee Strasberg Institute on Saturdays, and worked at a casting agency during the week. After a few months he was cast in a teen TV drama, Opposite Sex, as one of three male pupils at an all-girls school that had recently gone co-ed.

During his first flight to Los Angeles, he felt an uneasy mix of excitement and anxiety which he says still often comes over him as he arrives in the city.

“Your reason for going there – your hobby you’ve fallen in love with and want to pursue – becomes your job, which means something shifts,” he says. “All of a sudden there’s a desperation in you. Depending on where you are in your career, arriving in LA can feel like the most wonderful homecoming, or incredibly stressful. There are chapters in my life where it’s been the latter.”

Not that he’s likely to be waiting tables on roller skates any time soon, but Evans is about to rediscover what being footloose and franchise-free feels like. After promotional duties on the latest two Avengers films wind up in 2019, so will his contract with Marvel, after nine increasingly lucrative years. He was paid $300,000 for the initial Captain America film in 2011, though by Avengers: Age of Ultron four years later, this had swollen to $7 million.

It’s not quite the $40 million-a-picture commanded by his fellow Avenger Robert Downey Jr., nor indeed the $20 million by Scarlett Johansson, whom Evans has counted as a friend since 2004, when both appeared in a teen crime caper called The Perfect Score. But it’s a sum he describes as having given him “breathing room” – “not just financial stability, but the profile that means smaller films can get on their feet as a result of your involvement. So you can take more risks.”

Some have been political. Evans has spoken out in support of gun control and immigration, and against the current (at time of writing) US President: subjects franchise stars tend not to make explicit pronouncements on, given the risk of alienating potential audience-members in politically polarised times.

Cap himself, however, has been a progressive liberal voice since his invention during the Second World War, save for a brief (and later disavowed) flirtation with McCarthyism in the 1950s, and you sense the character would approve. Does taking on Trump feel like part of the job description?

“Yeah, like an obligation or something?” he nods. “It’s tough. I have a lot of actor friends who take no part in the political landscape, and that’s their right. But I don’t feel obligated as an actor, I feel obligated as a human. Even if I weren’t an actor I’d support causes I think are beneficial for the world and, speak out against things I think hurt people. It just so happens that I have a platform people pay attention to.”

Even so, the hour approaches for his big dismount. “I had six films in my Marvel contract, so I could have said after the third Avengers I was done, but they wanted to make the third and fourth Avengers films as a two-parter,” he explains. “They said they had so many other characters to fit in – Guardians of the Galaxy, Black Panther, Captain Marvel, Doctor Strange, Ant Man – and couldn’t get them all into one movie.”

Cap’s ultimate fate is a secret on a par with the nuclear launch codes, though Evans will go as far as to say he agreed to the two-film arc “because it made sense. It’s going to wrap everything up.”

“I’ve been on sets where you get a vibe that everyone’s making a different movie,” he says. “The director one, the actors another, the producers another one still. Marvel has a way of ensuring that on the day filming begins, everyone is making the same meal.”

Right now, that might be Captain America’s last supper. But for Evans, that’s just for starters.

Gifted is released in UK cinemas on June 16

always-an-evans-addict

addictionmarvel

:o)

[rose-writes-prose]

New Bloom, or the Story of Chieko and her Husband

Chieko Hasegawa is a new first year student at Ouran Academy. Unlike her fellow student, she comes from a middle class family living in a small apartment. Because of this, she fears that she will not be accepted by others. But the host club proves her wrong! This club, led by the flamboyant Tamaki and the intellectual Kyoya, immediately take a liking to her and allow her to join their club, along with her close friend, Haruhi Fujioka. But when trouble hits the Hasegawa family, will Chieko's relationship with the Host Club be tarnished?

Chapter 1: Introductions

I was nervously standing at the bottom of a wide, tall flight of stairs. I knew absolutely no one at this Ouran Academy; I wasn't exactly associated with the rich and elegant. I wasn't a rich kid with poise and an overflowing bank account. I was so middle-class, that I might as well have had a poster that said so. And then, I just stopped. My brothers would find it silly how I was worrying so, acting like an anime school girl. I would be fine at Ouran. I could find friends easily. I would fit in just fine.

The hallways on the next floor were bustling with students. The boys wore periwinkle blazers, and the girls in yellow dresses with giant skirts (which are VERY uncomfortable, by the way). It was nearly impossible to navigate through everyone. I had almost cut through the fog of students, when I was pressed against the wall. The air is the tightly packed hallways was becoming difficult to breathe as I frantically searched for a way out. My only way of escape was to go on the other side of the closest door. It appeared that my best option was "Music Room #3", which seemed like a good place to hide until things quieted down. Boy, was I wrong.

Upon entering the room, I saw a group of boys preparing for some sort of party or event. They were so focused on their work that they hadn't noticed me yet. I reached for the doorknob; but, as the doorknob made its little click in the silent room, but one of the boys saw me on the floor at the door. His face held a somewhat surprised expression, as if to say "Oh. We weren't expecting you here." Before I could apologize for coming uninvited, he called to another of the periwinkle-clad students:

"Hey, Boss! You didn't say that we would get early customers."

"We aren't supposed to get customers yet, Kaoru." A tall boy with blonde hair called back. I noted that he was the "boss".

"Then what she doing here?" another boy, identical to Kaoru, asked, pointing at me with an accusing finger. "If she isn't a client, who is she?"

"Hikaru, what are talking about? What custo-?" The "boss" turned from what he was doing and saw who the twins were talking about. (That would be me.) "Oh, I see."

When Boss turned, so did everyone else in the room. All of them looked so different from one another, from a tall, quiet boy to a petite, jumpy boy with a pink bunny. It looked like their ages ranged from 1st years to 3rd years (15-18). They all looked so different, yet they all shared one thing in common: each boy was amazingly attractive. There were no girls in the room, though. I shouldn't be in here, I thought.

"Excuse me for interrupting your preparations," I said, after being creepily stared at for what seemed like forever. "What do you mean, 'client'? Client for what?"

"How silly of me," Boss answered, with a gentle but resonate voice. "You, miss, have stumbled upon our wonderful Host Club. A club in which, we entertain the beautiful young ladies of this school. I am the king of this club, Tamaki Suoh." He approached me and raised my chin up towards his face. " And who might you be, my fair princess?"

I gripped the doorknob is exasperation. Maybe most girls would swoon as a reaction; but his boldness bothered me. I had only known him for a minute, for goodness' sake.

"Stay back, creep." I pushed him away, the force knocking him nearly halfway across the room. "First off, please don't call me a princess after just meeting me. It's unbecoming of a young gentlemen, like you appear to be. You don't want your club to be a bust just because you frighten your clients away."

Everyone, especially Suoh-senpai, looked taken aback. The boy with the stuffed bunny whispered to the tall boy "No one has reacted to Tama-chan that way, have they Takashi? Other than Renge-chan?" "No."

Suoh-senpai looked like he was in shock. He hadn't moved from his fallen spot on the ground for a while. "C-Creep? Am I really.... unbecoming? Frightening??"

I moved forward from the door, placing my hands in front of me. "I'm sorry." I apologized, with a humble bow. "That was rude of me. Can you forgive me, Suoh-senpai?"

Suoh-senpai, in response to my apology, instantly shot up casually brushed his shoulders as he replied. "No, no. The fault was not yours. I caught you off guard, didn't I? And please, call me Tamaki, Miss ..." He waved his hand as he tried to think of my name. "Miss...?"

"I'm called Hasegawa Chieko, but you can call me Chieko."

A boy with glasses covering his cool eyes stepped forward to introduce himself. "It is a pleasure, Miss Hasegawa. I am Kyoya Ootori." He gave a slight bow. There was a slight smirk on his lips, giving me the feeling that he was amused by the previous incident with Tamaki.

Before I could open my mouth to speak, I felt something grab at my waist. I looked down to see the smallest of the boys hugging me tightly. "Hi, Chie-chan! I'm Mitskuni, but everyone calls me Hunny. That's my cousin, Taskashi, but everyone else calls him Mori." he gestured towards the tall boy. "Those two are Hika-chan and Kao-chan," he looked towards the impish looking twins, "and this is Usa-chan." he held up a little toy bunny.

"Aww, hello." I couldn't help it. Hunny-senpai was really sweet, like a little kid.

"So," one of the twins interrupted. "What brings you here so early? We're not open until after school."

"Actually," I answered Hikaru (or Kaoru). "I was going to wait here until all the commotion outside dies down. I didn't know the room was occupied, so I'll be going." I started to leave as the glasses-clad boy spoke up.

"No need," he said, writing in his black notebook. "Please stay here at your leisure. It would be our pleasure."

"Are you certain?" I asked. "I don't mean to be a bother."

"Of course it is." Tamaki-senpai said, with a dramatic flourish of his hand. "We shall most definitely shelter you from the harsh, hustling halls, m'lady."

"Thanks!" I paused and smiled gratefully. Then a thought came into my mind. "If I'm going to be here for a bit, do you want any help with setting things up?"

The hosts formed into a huddle in the opposite corner of the room. Why do they need to huddle to answer my question, I questioned to myself. After a few moments of decision-making, Kyoya-senpai announced their final answer.

"Yes, thank you. We are very much obliged by your offer of help."

And so, I did whatever I could: helping Mori-senpai move tables and chairs to their proper places, choosing the most appropriate desserts for a tea-party with Honey-senpai, selecting the most elegant cups and saucers for Kyoya-senpai, etc. All of the boys were very polite, partially excluding the devious Kaoru and Hikaru, who were often poking fun at Tamaki-senpai. All the same, everyone worked so well together, even though they were as different as the four seasons.

While I was designing a bouquet of flowers in a vase, someone asked, "May I sit down?" I nodded as Kyoya-senpai sat next to me on the sofa. He commented on the flowers before saying what had obviously been on his mind already.

"I knew the name 'Hasegawa Chieko' was familiar. You're one of the new students."

I looked up at him, slightly confused. "You've heard of me?"

"Yes. It's not every day a commoner gets accepted at Ouran. You're somewhat famous here, or infamous."

So my brother was right. This school is filled with filthy rich people, I chuckled to myself. I must have been like a new species or something.

"Hm? Your brother?"

How did he know what I was thinking? Is he psychic? "Oh, yeah. I have two brothers and a sister. They all go to public schools. Kazuki, my twin, was warning me abou- wait... commoner?" And why did it sound like he was ridiculing me?

"I know the term 'commoner' sounds indelicate; but it would sound awkward if I said 'middle-class citizen' or 'poor person' instead, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," I said with a small laugh. "I suppose so. I guess I'll have to get used to being called a commoner here."

"My dear Chieko," Tamaki-senpai appeared out of nowhere. "You mustn't think of it as an insult. Instead, know it to be a marvelous compliment. You're an inspiration to poor people everywhere. You are they're ambassador - nay, their QUEEN!"

"Oh ... umm ... okay. I guess ...?" I said. Was Tamaki-senpai always like this?

At that moment, the Hitachiin twins sat on the opposite couch. "So Chieko, what are you into, other than girly things, like clothes and makeup?"

I let out a snort. "What made you think I'm into those things?" They replied with blank faces and shrugs. "Well, I like to be with friends. And I also like to read, draw, things like that. Why do you do ask?"

"Eh, no reason." Their smirks said otherwise. Do they practice smiling simultaneously, or does it come easily to them? "What's your type?"

"My type?" Type? Type of what?

"They're referring to which type of guy you prefer." Kyoya-senpai explained. "Each of the hosts are categorized as specific type to amuse our guests. Hikaru and Kaoru are depicted as mischievous. Honey-senpai is the boy-Lolita type. Mori-senpai is the strong and silent type, or stoic. I am considered to be the cool type. And Tamaki is, well, to put in a few words..."

"The overdramatic type?" I guessed.

Tamaki-senpai's jaw dropped as the Hikaru and Kaoru snickered. Even Kyoya-senpai allowed a tiny smile. Poor Tamaki-senpai. He sat in the corner of the room, shunned.

"Or how about the poetic prince?" I mended. "That type sounds more elegant and romantic. Do you like it, Senpai?"

Tamaki looked away from whatever he was doing in his emo corner and gave me a puppy dog face. "I like this girl's style. Yes, I think the handsome poetic princely type suits me well. Thank you for the suggestion."

"Yeah, yeah," the twins said. "But which is her type?"

"Um..." I didn't usually think about this. What is my type? "I'm a little embarrassed to say this, so don't tell anyone. I've never had a boyfriend before, so I don't know my type yet. Maybe someone who is charitable or maybe likes to read?" Hikaru and Kaoru gave me gagging faces, so I stuck my tongue out at them.

"Well," I looked down at my watch. "I think it's time for me to get going. Bye, guys."

"Whaaa?" Hunny-senpai whimpered. "Aww, do you have to go, Chie-chan?" He pulled me in for another hug, refusing to let me go. Wow, he's super sweet, like a little kid. How old is he anyway?

"I'd love to, but I have to get to class." I made my way to the door, paused, and turned around and asked: "When do you guys open for business?"

"Our club is officially starting after school," Kyoya-senpai answered.

"Okay, I'll make sure to swing by then. Bye."

I had reached the end of the hall, when I heard the door open and close. "Hey, wait up!" Hikaru and Kaoru ran to catch up with me. "You're a first year, right?" they asked. "Yep, I'm in class 1-A."

"So are we." said Kaoru. "Mind if we join you?" I gave them a shrug. I didn't really mind.

And so we walked. We were quiet for most of the way. It was kind of awkward. Why did they want to walk with me to class? They're being really quiet. And then, Hikaru asked: "How does it feel? You know, being a poor person at Ouran?"

"What?" I honestly hadn't thought it would be a big deal. Is it? "I don't mind being the only commoner here. If anything, it makes me special."

"Actually," the twins said, "there's another honors student here. His name's Haruhi Fujioka."

"Fujioka?" I played the name through my head. 'click. click.' I know that name. "I might sound crazy, but does this Fujioka have dark hair and large, intelligent eyes?"

"Yeah. Why? Do you know him?"

"Mhm. We went to the same middle school." I decided not to tell them anymore. It would be much more to see their reactions when they learned the truth.

Classroom 1-A. We entered and I saw. I saw a very good friend of mine. Haruhi Fujioka, my old friend from middle school. Could it be? I wasn't actually sure if it was. To make sure it was, I called.

"Haruhi Fujioka?" I called. "Is that you?"

It was Haruhi. And when she saw me, Haruhi's eyes widened with surprised. She looked just as astonished as I was. Her hair was all cut off, in a style more popular with boys. In fact, she was wearing the boy's uniform. But there was no mistaking it; Haruhi's large, intelligent brown eyes were still as bright as ever.

"Hey, Chieko! I'm so glad to see you. But, what are you doing here? I thought there was only one scholarship."

"Yeah. A familiar face is always comforting, especially your best friend's. They offered a last minute scholarship to a second person. And that turned out to be me. Although, I can't say that I'm surprised you got accepted here; you're exceptionally bright. But here's an interesting question: why are you dressed like a dude?"

"Oh, this?" Haruhi glanced down at her uniform. "It's actually a weird story. Have you met the Host club? When they met me, they mistook me for a boy and gave me this uniform. And then I ruined something of theirs, so I owe them a debt. I have to pay off the debt by working as their errand dog."

"Ouch! Maybe I could help you. How much do you owe them?"

"Eight-million yen!"

I grimaced at the hefty sum. "How many thousands are in eight-million? Haruhi, I don't know how you can pay off that debt, even by the end of high-school."

"Probably not," Haruhi grimaced. "But if I reach my quota as a host, I can pay them off sooner."

"You go girl!" I laughed. Haruhi was very determined and hardworking. I knew she could pay off her debt. "Wait! Does that mean that they know you're a girl?"

"Yep! It does." Hikaru answered over my shoulder.

"We've known all along." Kaoru added.

Haruhi sighed an told the twins to mind their own business and let her talk to me.

"Oh, and Chieko?" Haruhi asked. "Can you wait for me at the Host Club after school? I don't want the crazy hosts following me home."

"Mhm. Sure." I nodded. "But do you mind if I do homework in the corner? The club seems kind of stupid."

"Go ahead." Haruhi shrugged. "The club is pretty stupid."

Chapter 2

[jeonwhipped]

The Arousing Nature of Shampoo Bottles

Pairing: Jihae (OC) & Jeongguk

Genre: slight smut, CRACK

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Jihae now remembers why she never listens to Jeongguk.

A/N: HELLO!! After so many broken promises of “I swear I’ll get it done today!” IT’S DONE!

A/N 2: this is actually a repost bc i was on tumblr mobile like 2 minutes ago and it turns out the “delete” button is dangerously close to where my thumb scrolls WHOOPS

Prompt: “Omg u should write Crack where u slip while having shower sex ahhaha”

They were known as the Notorious Fuckers around the friend group, meaning that they were pretty nondiscriminatory when it came to exactly where to have sex. The bed was almost solely for sleeping, so they utilized every other space in their apartment to do the fucking do. This is mostly thanks to Jeongguk’s ridiculous sex drive and his openness to trying new things, and the only reason why Jihae goes along with him is because he’s a great fuck, and always ensures she finishes, too. They also have incredulous conversations during their time together: sometimes Jihae will tell her girlfriends about a wonderful epiphany she had the other day, and when they ask, “what brought this on?” she shamelessly admits riding Jeongguk’s dick, talking about every kind of philosophy there was.

When I say “nondiscriminatory,” I mean, like, actually everywhere. Against walls, on the floor, the kitchen counter (this one was Jihae’s personal favorite), pressed against the glass sliding door overlooking the city, in public, for fuck’s sake …. You get the idea.

But there was also one other place they never tainted.

The shower.

Now, there’s a reason for this, too. In addition to all the things that could go wrong in the shower, Jihae thought of it as a sanctuary - the same idea as a bed. It’s good to have at least one place in the house that’s untarnished, right?

But you’re about to witness one of the few times Jihae complies to his wishes and regrets her decision immensely.

Surprisingly, their schedules are aligned enough where they both leave at the same time in the morning (around 7am), and neither of them have to wait too long before the other returns in the evening, too. And what perfect way to save a few bucks on their water bill than to shower together in the morning?

Today was no different. After her alarm rudely disrupts her deep sleep, Jihae dragged herself and an equally groggy Jeongguk into the shower, where she turned the water temperature to scalding and sluggishly stripped naked, Jeongguk following suit. She then shuffles over to the sink, where she blindly fumbles for their toothbrushes (how she’s able to navigate the house with her myopia amazes her boyfriend) and shoves hers own into her mouth after she places a hefty amount of minty toothpaste.

“What did you dream about?” she asks, leaning against the glass wall of the shower. Condensation is slowly working inside the enclosure.

“Hmm,” he mumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eye. “That we all suspected Taehyungie was an alien trying to sabotage Earth. Like a spy. But when we went to perform some tests on him, it turned out that he was human. You think that means anything?”

She’s genuinely surprised at hearing this. “People aren’t always what they seem?”

“Or that Taehyung is hiding something,” he suggests, waggling his eyebrows. Noticing the growing humidity in the room, he opens the glass door and gestures her in. “Maybe he’s a bigger skank than the both of us combined.”

“Whaaaat, that’s practically impossible.” After he steps in with her, she swings the glass door shut. They both stand under the water for a few moments, continuing to brush their teeth. “Okay, maybe not impossible,” she admits, turning to face him again. “It could explain why he gets lost when you guys are traveling together. Or why he suddenly leaves the room sometimes.” She spits down the drain. “He comes back looking disheveled every once in awhile, no?”

“Are you suggesting he has secret hoes lurking in every corner of every building?”  He laughs, mimicking Jihae to rid himself of the the built up saliva. He takes their toothbrushes and deposits them in the cup standing on the rack.

“Maybe! You never know,” she shrugs, suddenly reaching out to twist his nipple, earning a squeak from the male. “He’s probably the raunchiest of us all.”

“Topping us? No way. He probably has hoes, male and female, lined out his door. But in terms of raunchiness?” He returns her jab two-fold, sharply twisting her own breasts, one in each hand. “He’s no comparison to us. Which reminds me, actually.”

She slaps his hands away. “What.”

“Why haven’t we had sex in here before?” he asks nonchalantly, grabbing a shampoo bottle and squeezing the gel onto his hand. “Come ‘ere a sec.” Jihae takes a step closer to him so he can lather shampoo in her hair for her. “Think about it -”

“Because you’re getting a hard-on from the shampoo bottles, right? I know, Jeon. They’re enticing. But you must exercise self restraint.” Right as he opens his mouth to retort, she immediately cuts him off. “Look, I just think it’s nice to have one spot in the apartment where I haven’t sucked you off. Alright?”

He lathers the soap in her hair so much that it goes almost stiff molding her hair into silly shapes. “Then I’ll just eat you out until you come, like, thrice,” he giggles. Rising his hands from the soap, he grabs her apricot facial scrub from the soap stand.

“I think you missed my point.”

“Listen, noona. There’s many perks to shower sex. Close your eyes, please.” She obeys once he spreads the cleanser on her face. “One: it’d wake us up in the morning. You like being groggy in the morning, or what?”

Jihae’s sass is still sharp, even if his hands are all over her face and she can’t see anything. “I don’t like being crippled in the morning, thank you very much.”

Rolling his eyes, he gently guides her body into the water stream to rinse of her face first, then her hair. “You talk as if we’re gonna slip or something. Have some faith in me, will ya?” He uses his hands to wipe off the excess microbeads from her face. “Two: we’re already naked. Sure, it’d add probably another 20 minutes to our routine, but you’ve gotta admit, it’s pretty convenient. Turn, please.” She spins away, waiting for him to smooth conditioner through her long strands of hair. “And three: you always have a good time when you’re with me. What’ll be from all the other times?” He squeezes the conditioner onto his hand. “How about we try it out today?”

She almost gives herself whiplash turning her head around to glare at him skeptically. “Now?!”

Putting his fists to his face, he gives her the best aegyo he can without making her vomit, pouting his lips in the process. His eyes must have looked like a puppy’s, honestly. If this were an anime, he’d be gushing two-dimensional flowers right about now. “Please.”

Jihae narrows her eyes into slits, obliging. “Fine. Only if you promise me that if I don’t like it, then we must have table sex. Also if you stop your stupid rendition of moe.” She tosses one of her pinkies over her shoulder. “Deal?”

But even as he laces his pinkie with hers, murmurs “deal” near her ear, and plants a kiss just below her ear lobe, Jihae isn’t 100% convinced that this could end well. There’s so many things that could go wrong….but … fuck it, right? She trusts Jeongguk enough. Nothing terribly embarrassing happened during all the other times they had sex (well, excluding that time when they were getting frisky in their parked car, and Jihae accidentally leaned too far back and sat on the fucking horn for a few seconds, probably disturbing the entire complex), so, honestly, what could go wrong? Actually, don’t answer that.

“Hang on, Jeon,” she says, halting his trail of kisses by spinning around to face him fully again. “Fuck the foreplay this time.” Without warning, she wraps her hands around his neck, hops up, and folds her thighs over his waist. He barely has enough time to place his hand on her butt for support, and in surprise, walks forward until the cool tile is flush with her back, before she ground her groin against his.

“Oh my god, how long have you been hard!” Before he opens his mouth to respond, she jokes, “those damn shampoo bottles, isn't it.”

“Ugh, noona,” he complains, taking one hand off her bum to line his dick up with her entrance. “Keep talking and I’ll get soft again.”

She fucking cackles at this. “You were hard ever since you woke up. Now hurry u- ah -”

To put it simply, the stretch is a bit much. Maybe she shouldn’t have fucked the foreplay, honestly. Water wasn’t a great lubricant, either. But she thought she could do it - with how often they have sex? Like, Jeongguk should have been able to sheathe himself in her with no problem. AND had room to spare.

But she overestimated her capabilities, much to her dismay. As soon as he pushes forward just a centimeter, the friction became unbearable, and she holds flings her hands out to brace against his massive shoulders. “S-sorry. I - it hurts. I miscalculated. Bad judgement. I’m sorry. I should have just -”

“Let me eat you out, right?” he finishes, then smiles a shit-eating grin. “It’s not too late -”

“No, no,” she cuts off. “Too much extra work and positioning. Can you - can you just talk dirty to me or something? Maybe the juices will start flowin’.”

“Of course.” He clears his throat and looks her dead in the eye with a seriously sultry expression. “With a great dick comes great responsibility.”

Oh.

My.

Fucking.

God.

“Did you just use a pick-up line on me?”

His incredulous look is incredulous. “What! You said -”

“I know what I said. But - god. Never mind!” she whines. “Put me down. You’re no help! I’ll just finish by myself.”

“What!” He’s so surprised that he accidentally leans forward entering Jihae even further. It feels like she’s being ripping in two, it hurts so much. Although he immediately apologizes when he sees her wince, he’s still disgruntled by how their sexy time turned out. “But I always let you finish, Jihae-noona!” He pouts a very convincing pout. “Don’t do this to me.”

“I don’t want to touch your dick right now. Slip out, damn you.”

He runs a frustrated hand through his wet hair but doesn’t budge, even as Jihae squirms in every which way. “What are you even going to get off to?! I’m right here, for fuck’s sake!”

“You want honesty?” She taunts, stilling. “I could come right here and right now with just the thought of Park Jimin, with his newest dance routine in a blindfold -” For emphasis, she clenched around the few centimeters inside of her, making Jeongguk splutter. “And his recently dyed black hair -” she closes her eyes and scrunches her face like she’s about to cry. “True art,” she weeps, a few tears escaping from the corner of her eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re actually crying. Over a boy who doesn’t even know you exist! I’m out.”

But Jeongguk forgot that the only thing keeping Jihae suspended was himself, and the wall behind her. So when he removes his hands from her butt and steps back completely (and slipping out of her, too), it takes all but half a second for . . .

“FUCKING HELL!” she yelps as she crashes ass first onto the wet porcelain floor with nothing to break the impact.

And Jeongguk’s actually like struck with how irresponsible he is. You had ONE job, kiddo, but look what you did.

Sadly, though, the only person Jihae has to be angry at is herself. Whatever possessed her to actually listen to Jeon Jeongguk has only made the most plausible outcome a reality. What was she expecting? Something romantic and hot?

Thank the fucking lord he has enough tact to shut the water off, sweep her up bridal style from the ground, kick the shower door open, and seat her on the sink. After retrieving her towel and gently drying her and himself off, he hauls her over his shoulder, stalks over to the bedroom, and lays her down easily, supporting her head as it meets the pillow.

“I’ll call the school today,” he murmurs, tucking the blankets over her naked body.  “Tell them that you -”

“Fractured my dignity?”

He smiles apologetically down at her. “I’m sorry, Noona. I’m sorry for dropping you.” Kneeling on the floor, he digs under the covers until he finds one of her hands with both of his, squeezing it reassuringly. After leaning down and kissing the lump created by their intertwined hands, he asks, “How can I make it up to you?”

Her response is immediate. “Table sex after I’m able to walk. I think I genuinely busted my ass, Jeon.” She roll to the other side of the bed to make room for him, wincing all the while. “And if we go the fuck back to sleep, please.”

Without hesitation, he flings the covers up and quickly slips under them, arms wrapping around her frame and pulling her back to his chest. After placing a delicate peck on her temple, he mutters, “I just wish you slipped on my dick instead -”

Too worn out to even glare at the male, Jihae opts to ignore the remark and slowly closes her eyes instead. “That’s the last time I’m listening to you and your goddamn ideas.”

Jeongguk’s nose crashes into the nape of her neck and nuzzles it. “Even if I suggest table sex?”

After a beat of silence, she sighs, “You are so lucky you’re a good fuck,” but opted out of adding on to her sentence, “excluding the scene we had just four minutes ago.”

a/n: thank u for taking time to read this mess lmao. have a gr8 day lovelies