#and you will still need to interact with him in small easy to handle doses mostly

[god-syndicate-if]

Is Johnny capable of losing to things that isn't a competition? If Johnny were put into a boxing match with MC and he hypothetically was less skilled and physically weaker than MC. Would Johnny still some how win.

Alright, Anon, so you're not the one I'm mostly talking about. You're fine and just asking about Johnny. But I'm getting a lot of asks about Johnny (some just rude) and just to put some minds at ease I'll tell you how his powers work. Not really spoilers at all but I'm putting it under in case someone doesn't want to see.

If it's a competition he'll win. I'd like everyone to just read that before we continue. Those are the only rules to his powers. If you compete in anything against Johnny. You will lose. No ifs ands or buts about it. If the universe has to give you a heart attack and kill you to do it then it will. That being said I'm absolutely sure you can think of about a billion ways to get around that or use that against him. "Winner has to pay for dinner." or "I bet I can jump into that spike pit quicker than you can." type of deal (of course he needs to agree. but he's competitive to a fault so I can see him agreeing to anything if you word it well enough.) I'm doing my absolute best to avoid spoilers so i'm not giving any examples that will actually happen in the story.

This is why he's like 99% just in Dame's romance. Dame feels like they're only useful to be an object, or in other words a prize. Johnny wins all prizes. Do not think of Dame as a prize and you'll """"beat"""" Johnny. (Love isn't a competition.)

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 28.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings In This Chapter: Use Of A Sex Toy, Lactation Kink, Degradation, Daddy Kink, Begging, Sex Over A Desk, Bratty!OC, Dom!Yoongi, Mentions Of The Color System, Sex Against A Window, Exhibitionism, Praise, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie, Insecure!Yoongi

A/N: I’m back from vacation. Here is your weekly dose of Yoongles. Also big ups to my ladies @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna​. Love yall.

Why do people even get married? If you had it your way you would just get married at City Hall with your parents and best friends. But getting married to a CEO is never that easy. Combine that with your raging hormones, sore back and ankles, and your overbearing, over the top best friend… it's all a bit much to handle. Not to mention now that everyone knows who you are, you have eyes on you at all times.

Although, you know how happy Yoongi is about all of this. You can see how he radiates joy with each step as you walk hand in hand together out in public. That pretty much makes it all worth it.

"I'm allergic to coconut," Yoongi breathes out, pushing the plate of wedding cake in front of him away.

You hum in agreement, leaning back into the plush armchair.

"They're all so good, I don't know what to pick." you say truthfully, looking over the multitude of wedding cake samples that are spread across the exorbitantly large dining room table.

"Well, you have… twenty minutes to figure it out." Leena notifies you from the other end of the room.

"You know, you're like a drill sergeant or something," you murmur.

You can hear Yoongi's gentle snigger when she narrows her eyes at you. "My perfect, amazing, gorgeous best friend is only getting married once. It has to be the event of a lifetime. So strap in and call me General Matrimony."

"Hear, hear." your fiance agrees smothering your cheek with a kiss.

"In my opinion the double chocolate fudge with marshmallow Swiss buttercream is the best." Leena decides, pointing to the cake in the middle of the table.

"Too sweet." you and the CEO reply at the same time.

She sneers at your combined cuteness.

"Are we trying to be disgustingly decadent or classy?" Yoongi quips to you, throwing his arm over your shoulder.

Leaning your temple against him, your cheeks puff out in thought. "Disgustingly classy?"

Leena points at you with her gold pen. "Love that."

The CEO snorts loudly, running the tip of his nose over your temple.

"If we're being disgustingly classy, we should do the chocolate chiffon cake with the light white raspberry filling." you announce, pointing at the cake in front of you.

"That was really good," Yoongi agrees, planting his hand on your protruding stomach.

Leena looks up at you over her clipboard impressed. "If I knew you were gonna turn into some hoity toity queen, Miss Thing -- I would have shoved you at Yoongi a long time ago." she jeers.

You roll your eyes with a laugh before wincing at a kick that's just a bit too tender on the ribs.

"Honggi. Relax, buddy." Yoongi mutters in your direction.

You had decided on a name last night. It honestly didn't take you long at all. You and your fiance are always on the same page.

Honggi is a powerful name and Yoongi's son should have that prowess and power behind him.

Yoongi came to love the simple word almost immediately and even when you were drifting off to sleep, you could hear the CEO murmuring semblances of the name.

When Leena looks over you both, her sharp and intense features begin to soften. "God, you guys are cute. It's fucking disgusting." she whines, sipping her champagne.

Shaking his head with a laugh your soon-to-be husband seems to agree. "I'm not the one who brings the cuteness here." he chirps, running his thumb in loving strokes over your distended skin.

Leena gives you a moment or two to calm down before hardening her gaze and tapping the famed clipboard with her pen. "Floral arrangements, come on folks! We don't have time!"

"Wedding tyrant." Yoongi breathes playfully, earning a snort from you.

"Good morning, Sir." Shea calls to Yoongi as he gets out of the elevator.

"Hey, Shea. Mornin'." the CEO mutters, running his fingers through his perfectly styled hair.

It was no secret that after the unfortunate incident with his mother, you started to despise Kira. You never said anything of course, you were too kind for that. But Yoongi knew, he always knows. So he did what he thought was best and let her go. He did however give her a gigantic 'keep quiet' sum of money as well as having her sign a NDA. He wasn't about to let the woman that's kept him company many times throughout many years go blabbering at the mouth due to being disgruntled.

"You have two meetings today and then after lunch you have a few contracts to sign." Shea explains.

Yoongi likes that she's strictly business. And more importantly, she doesn't look at him like he's a piece of meat on sale at the butchers.

"Thanks." he breathes, picking up his coffee from the reception desk.

"Oh! And your fiance called!" she beams.

He knows she's a fan of your artwork and just the mention of you has both of them smiling like idiots. Nothing like simping to start off the day.

"Oh? Is she okay?" he inquires, pulling out his phone.

"She said she's bringing you lunch, so don't eat." Shea instructs.

He hums thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I'm pretty lucky. Huh?" he quips, heading towards his office.

The day goes by slower and slower with each passing minute. He equates it to being away from you and his son if he's being honest.

The meetings are all the same. Boring and tedious with glasses of whisky to take the boredom even slightly away.

The old men that seem to run the company beneath him have more to say about the project managers than their own jobs. It's almost baffling.

But when Yoongi gets the solace of being in his exorbitantly large office again on his own, he finds peace there.

Shea wasn't too forthcoming with just how many contracts he has to sign and the stack of them on his desk makes his eye twitch.

"God, when is lunch?" he breathes, turning around in his large chair to look at the sonogram painting of his son you so artfully created.

Digging into his suit pocket, he looks for the trusty gold pen he uses to sign documents -- but he feels something else first. It's small, fitting in his palm and his eyebrows furrow. When he pulls it out, he can't say he isn't confused.

You did pick out his suit this morning, much like you do every morning but he's never had a remote in his pocket before.

Picking up his phone, he's immediately intrigued.

The phone rings loudly in his ear and suddenly he's forgotten all about work.

"Hello?"

"Little dove." his voice sounds confused and playful at best.

He examines the small black remote, having no idea what on Earth it's for.

"Yeah?" you quip back.

"I found a remote in my pocket. Any idea why?" he prods, his eyebrows flickering up expectantly.

The hum of uncertainty you give makes him all the more curious.

"No. Why is there a remote in your pocket? Did you take the garage remote instead of your car key?" you inquire.

It's simply ridiculous but now he's questioning himself. "What? No! Then how would I have gotten to work?"

He presses the 'On' button and flips it over in his hand expectantly.

"Oh God," you whisper softly.

"You okay? Is Honggi kicking a lot?" Yoongi asks, putting down the remote to give you his full attention.

"N-No. I was just surprised. I'm in the car, now on my way over to your office."

Your voice sounds breathless and strange all at once and for the first time… probably ever -- Yoongi doesn't take it sexually. "You better tell Minho to be careful driving, you hear me?"

"Mhm." you gasp softly.

"Well if you didn't put this thing in my pocket, I don't know how it got here then." Yoongi murmurs, pushing more buttons on it curiously.

"Oh my God, Minho drive faster!" you squeak out.

The CEO is completely at odds with what's happening. "You alright?" he inquires curiously.

"I just really need to… pee." you babble.

You sound dazed and lost, even needy all of a sudden.

"I'm sure. Honggi is getting big." your fiance agrees, drawing imperfect shapes on his desk with the tip of his finger.

"I'm here. I'll be right up, Daddy." you whimper, hanging up on him.

He pulls the phone away from his ear, eyebrows completely furrowing. "What's wrong with her?" he bleats.

He's signed a total of three documents by the time you make it upstairs.

Just hearing your sweet voice interacting with Shea in the far distance sends his heart absolutely pounding with excitement. Seeing you sometimes gives him the adrenaline of bungee jumping or cliff diving.

When the doors of his office burst open, he can't help the gummy smile that spreads over his features.

He takes in your attire and suddenly he's confused. You're wearing a stylish black trench coat that flourishes out at the bottom, but he can't see the dress you're wearing beneath it.

"What dress are you wearing that doesn't cover your mid thighs?" he asks, pushing back his desk chair to stand up tall.

Your fingers are shaking and you hurriedly slam the door shut. When you lock the both of you inside his large office, he knows something is weird.

"Y/N?"

Turning around to him with your back flush to the door, he can see how colored your cheeks are. Your lips are parted like your gasping for breath and your eyes are low with lustful intentions.

He finds something in his gut stirring at the sight of you.

"Baby? You okay?" he prods, rounding his desk.

Your fingers fumble with the belt around your belly which keeps the trenchcoat in place.

It's almost amusing how flustered you are.

You don't seem to be in any pain and Yoongi takes this all in as strange.

He leans back against the desk, waiting patiently for you to reply.

"I'm fine!" you assure him, shoving open the coat.

If his eyes could widen any larger, they'd probably pop out of his head.

You stand before him, scantily clad in thin, lace lingerie.

"Baby!" he gawks, rushing towards you to cover you up.

He can't help the way his cock begins to stir below the belt at the sight of you.

"What're you doing?" he hisses, gripping both sides of the trench coat.

You whimper gently, hooking your hand around his neck to pull him down to your height. He allows you to kiss him, he can feel the fervent need coming from your lips. His hands slowly slide from the coat to beneath it, feeling the soft skin of your belly.

"Want you," you gasp, pulling one of his hands between your thighs.

He can feel the vibrations against his fingertips and it all makes sense now. He groans loudly, pulling you back in for a fierce and passionate kiss.

His teeth nibble gently at your bottom lip and in all honesty, he's astounded by your forwardness. It's rare to see you like this but when your hormones are raging and in charge of your brain… who is he to stop you?

"You naughty little dove." he jeers, pulling you towards his desk.

"What's got you so playful today?" he inquires, pushing the multitude of contract folders aside.

He helps you up onto the desk, spreading your legs with a wanton groan.

The clit and g-spot vibrating sex toy you had recently spoken about sits between your sodden pussy lips. Yoongi can see how wet you are through the thin lingerie and it makes his heart beat faster at the sight.

"Just wanted to," you whimper, spreading your legs wider.

Stepping between your limbs, his hands can't seem to separate from your soft skin. Reluctantly, he leaves your belly to tug down the cups of your bra. Your breasts spring out, swaying and dribbling milk languidly.

"You're leaking milk in public, like a little cum slut."

His dominance is overwhelming to your senses and you can only nod fervently in agreement.

"I'm your cum slut. I'm yours." you babble, wrapping your hand around his tie and pulling him towards you.

It's not like this extreme horniness has come from nowhere. In fact, you've been in pain from kicks and punches from your growing son for a week or so now and the one day you don't feel any pain at all -- the most pressing horniness you've ever felt has overcome you.

His lips are soft and warm against yours. They draw you in like a fly to honey and you're enraptured with the man you're in love with.

"I never thought you'd turn up at my office like this, little dove." Yoongi murmurs, pressing soft kisses to the column of your neck.

"I'm so horny, I'm going to pass out!" you complain, reaching for his belt.

He can hear the sheer neediness in your voice and it sends him into overdrive.

"I'll take care of you, baby girl. Don't worry." he assures you, cupping your breasts and gingerly swiping his thumbs across your leaking nipples until you're sobbing with relief.

"D-Daddy!" you whine, unbuckling his belt.

The way your voice peaks makes his eyes immediately rise to the double doors of his office.

"You're gonna have to be a little quieter for me, babe. I'm at work." he murmurs, kissing your lips softly.

You whimper, giving him an understanding nod.

"Good girl," your fiance praises, wrapping his lips around your nipple.

Your hand cups your mouth when you gasp loudly. Shaking like a leaf, your body is quite literally vibrating with sexual need.

He sighs gently against you, adoring you for all you're worth. One hand pinches and rolls your forsaken nipple while the other caresses your stomach.

The vibrating with you seems to only get faster and you're so stimulated that fat tears of pleasure begin to roll down your cheeks.

"Feels good, little dove?" Yoongi coos around your nipple, enmeshing his fingers into the sides of your underwear. In mere seconds it becomes strings in his hands. He groans against your skin gently, tucking your destroyed undergarments into his suit pants pocket.

"S-So good! Fuck," you moan, shoving down his pants.

The sight before you has you licking your lips expectantly. His cock is already throbbing with need and it's a welcome sight.

One thing you can always count on with Yoongi is his complete and utter patience when it comes to pleasing you. His cock could be fucking purple with need and he would still take his time making sure you're satisfied first.

His fingers run over the smooth silicon of the sex toy and he shivers visibly at the vibrations. "How's it feel, baby? You like the new toy?" he inquires, kissing over the valley of your breasts.

You hum in agreement, lifting your hips slightly begging him to touch you.

You can feel your veins coursing with white hot pleasure, it feels like electricity firing through every pore in your body.

When his fingers slide over your opening, he can't help but choke on a moan. "God, your cunt is soaked. Shit." he curses, dipping a finger into your heat.

"You're gaping for my cock, Jesus Christ." he breathes out.

Yoongi knows he probably isn't going to last long. It's been awhile since you've fucked and his hand is nothing compared to being inside of you. Combine that with the new vibrator inside you, it's definitely going to be a tough feat.

"Fuck me over the desk like an animal!" you beg of your soon-to-be husband.

His eyes seem to widen at your forwardness but he can't say he doesn't love it.

"Anything for you, baby girl."

Your whimpers of anticipation have his bottom lip tucking tightly between his teeth.

"How'd I get so lucky to have such a gorgeous woman as my wife? Huh?" he whispers, running his hands over your back and sides.

You don't answer him, only pushing your hips back and wiggling your ass to show just how needy you are.

"I'm coming baby, relax." he promises, palming both globes of your ass in hand.

Your breathing is shallow and your mind is swimming as you wait for him. The vibrations against your most sensitive parts feel so amazing, so raw but it's not enough -- you want his consent to cum. You need it.

Yoongi picks up the small remote, testing the speeds and he realizes which you like more depending on your breathing and small moans. He's toying with you right now, enjoying the obscene amounts of arousal dripping down your soft, fleshy thighs.

His eyes are focused on your cunt, watching from behind as it twitches and spasms around the small device inside of you.

"Daddy, please!" you whine, lifting your head to look back at him.

When you do look back, you see his cock flat on his palm. He pumps it in hand a few times, cursing gently at the sight before him.

"Aren't you just a pretty little pregnant whore for me?" he quips, running his hand from your back to cup your stomach.

The weight of your belly in his hand has him almost in a frenzy then. Pressing the weeping head of his cock to your entrance, his lips press into a thin, hard line when he feels the vibrating sensations flow through him.

"Oh fuck," he hisses softly, letting his eyes flutter shut.

"Yes!" you breathe out, pushing back to welcome him into your swollen cunt.

He groans then, welcoming your warm heat around him inch by inch.

"Feels so fucking good, baby girl. Jesus." he moans, taking a moment  for you to adjust to his size.

Grabbing the remote once more, he turns it onto the fastest speed and the gasps you collectively emit seem to sound like they're all around you.

He's forgotten he's at work, he's forgotten what he's supposed to be doing because the most important thing right now is you -- and your swollen, greedy sex is all he needs.

With the pleasurable vibrations added, all Yoongi wants to do is fuck you so hard that you'll both cum and be pleased in minutes. But he's never been the type to leave a sexual experience so early.

Folding over, his chest presses to your back and his fingers intertwine with yours.

His lips feel like heaven against your warm, flushed skin. He suckles small marks against the side of your throat, coloring you as his own.

His thrusts are hard and filling but slow. He'd give anything to hear skin slapping against skin right now but then he's reminded that he's at work.

Your hands grip harder onto the edge of the desk as you rut back against him.

"Your cock is so big," you whine, closing your eyes to become enraptured in the whole experience.

"Yeah? You like my big cock in this pregnant cunt?"

You nod fervently, trying to bite back the loud moans that threaten to tear past your lips. It's all too much and suddenly your orgasm is approaching like a rapid waterfall.

"Don't you dare," your fiance threatens, lifting himself up and gripping the back of your neck.

"Please Daddy. Need to cum," you beg, feeling your body quake with the ever pressing need of relief.

"Oh no, I don't think so. You show up to my office, you wait until I say you can cum."

You whine in defiance, pushing your hips back against him harder and he's surprised at your brattiness.

"Don't you dare cum." he warns you.

Your eyebrows furrow with need and you couldn't care about the punishment you're going to recieve. You're honestly not sure what's come over you, you've never defied him before but right now it's getting you more excited to not listen to him.

Pushing past the control of his orgasms, you lose yourself on his cock. Your high is filled with galactic stars behind your eyelids and white noise filled ears.

"You brat," he gasps, pulling out of you.

It's a smug grin the spreads over your face now before your cringing at the overstimulation of the sex toy. He takes pity on you in that regard, shutting the toy off and pulling it out of you. Tossing it onto his desk, he points his finger in your direction. "You're in trouble." he breathes out, jerking his hard cock in hand.

Now that you've arrived back down to Earth, you're worried. You've never defied him before and you've never seen his wrath.

"You just woke up a brat today, didn't you?" he seethes, helping you stand back upright.

You pout, shaking your head quickly in hopes that he won't be too strict on you. His narrowed eyes chill you to the bone.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I just couldn't help cumming. I was so horny. I'm sorry," you apologize profusely, running your hands over his clothed chest.

He hums unimpressed, combing his fingers through his hair.

"If only people knew what a cumwhore I have on my hands." he murmurs through his teeth.

You frown up at him, begging him to forgive you with puppy dog-like eyes.

"No. You don't get away with being a brat that easily," he deadpans.

Nodding to the large floor to ceiling windows, he taps his foot incessantly.

"Go stand by the window." he orders.

You look down at your naked body before looking back up at him in confusion.

"Wh-"

"What's your color?" he cuts you off, running his hand over your belly.

"G-Green," you chirp out, looking at the window.

"Then go stand up against the window." he instructs, beginning to stroke his cock once more.

"Why?" you inquire curiously, doing as told.

"So people can see what a cumwhore I have on my hands," he whispers into your ear. The heat of his breath has something unfurling inside of you once more.

Bracing your hands against the window, you turn back to look at him just in time to see him situating the vibrator between his fingers.

The quiet thrumming of the sex toy makes your breath hitch with anticipation.

"Spread your legs," your fiance commands, pressing his chest flush to your back.

You're so high up you're almost certain no one could see you but excitement still courses through you.

His hands wrap around you like strong chains and you hum in appreciation.

"I love you," you remind him, turning and kissing his cheek.

He softens at your words, kissing over your shoulder with his plush lips. "I love you too, brat." he murmurs.

His words make you snort gently but it's quickly cut off by a loud gasp. He presses his hand to your swollen clit and the smug grin he gives you sends a chill through your spine.

Your forehead presses to the chilly glass of the window and you mewl as his legs knock yours open farther.

His cock slides between your sodden folds a few times before entering back inside of you.

"Oh my God," you whine, backing your hips up to him.

"Pretty little thing," he praises, kissing over your neck. "What do you think, little dove? You think people can see me fucking your pregnant cunt from all the way down there?"

His thrusts become rougher and harder, cursing all the while.

The vibrations that ricochet through you are once again pushing you towards the edge at a surprisingly rapid pace.

"Don't even," he seethes, feeling how your cunt trembles around him.

His grunts and the sweet whispers of your name enrapture your ears.

The sight that greets Yoongi's eyes could make him almost blow his load in that very second.

"Your milk is leaking onto the glass, oh fuck." he whimpers, fucking into you harder and faster.

"Gonna cum!" you cry to him, scratching your nails against the window.

He doesn't even respond, chasing his own high as your cunt threatens to milk him for all he's worth.

"Oh little dove!" he gasps.

His thrusts become sloppier and his breath hitches at the prospect of cumming inside of you.

"Yoongi, please!" you beg, spreading your legs wider.

"You think you deserve it?" he quips, running his hand over your belly bump.

"Yes," you whimper, pushing back against him with each thrust.

"Cum." he commands, pressing his forehead into the junction between your neck and should.

He holds you up easily as you orgasm around him. You become a blubbering mess, crying out his name softly like a prayer.

"God, I love you." he seethes through his teeth.

His teeth clench down on his bottom lip as he cums, trying to quiet his final moans.

You both stay like this for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's company.

"Are you upset with me?" Yoong inquires, pulling out of you slowly.

Your eyebrows furrow at his worried tone. "Huh? Not at all, why?"

"You never act bratty or defy me… Did I do something wrong?"

You've spoken about this before actually. Yoongi is prideful when it comes to your sub slash dom relationship. He beams with satisfaction knowing that he keeps you so pleased you don't act out of character. For you to have been just the slightest bit bratty, it probably shook up his confidence.

"No, it's just my hormones I think, I wanted to be a little sassy," you explain, sitting down on his lap when he beckons you.

He hums unsurely, hooking his chin over your shoulder. "I'm a good dom to you when we have sex, right?" he asks, kissing your temple.

"Always. You always make me feel safe and dominated," you promise, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He breathes a sigh of relief, looking down at the sex toy tossed casual aside on his desk. "Felt good," he murmurs, running his hands over your sides.

You give him a large smile, nodding in agreement. He can't help but snort at your joyful expression.

"Well regardless of your bratty hormones, I'm happy you came to distract me from my work." your fiance murmurs, pulling the cups of your bra back up.

"You're always happy to be distracted from work." you quip, combing your fingers through his hair.

He nods thoughtfully, letting his fingertips graze over your outer thigh. "Very true." he beams, kissing your shoulder.

When your skin begins to raise with goosebumps, he's quick to cover you with the trenchcoat you discarded a while ago in your sudden heat of passion.

It's your stomach that rumbles first with the need for food and sustenance before he acts accordingly also.

"Oh yeah, where's the lunch you promised me?" the CEO inquires, tying the belt of your coat back in place.

"I gave it to you." you reply with a wide smile.

He looks over at the window before shaking his head with a laugh. "Alright, that's it. Get your pretty butt to the car, I'm taking us home for lunch."

Just talking about food in general has you jumping up with excitement. "Are you coming back to work after?" you prod, watching as he pulls up his boxers and suit pants.

"Nah, I'll just take the contracts home with me now so I don't have to come back. Besides, I didn't correct your errant behavior like I wanted too." he whispers, pecking your lips softly.

Leaning back on the desk, your head begins to tilt. "Well, you should get all your punishment in before six. Leena is coming over to discuss place settings for the wedding."

He groans gently, fixing his suit jacket until it looks seemingly pristine. "Why are you best friends with a tyrant? Remind me again?"

Your giggle echoes through the large office and he adores the sound, it courses through him like new life.

Scooping up the contract folders, he looks over to the window before smiling to himself. "Y'know I'm never cleaning my window again, right?" he quips, watching as you pull open the doors to his office.

"That's disgusting," you quip back, holding out your engagement hand so he can hold it.

Kissing the top of your head, he laughs. "Yeah, I am."

Next Chapter ------>

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[writingtoforgetreality]

Stockholm Syndrome (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: During the fight with the Dora Milaje in his safe-house, Zemo made an exit. But not alone. For inexplicable reasons, he dragged you along. Probably because he wanted to mess with Sam & Bucky. Would the Baron kill you? Or worse?

Words: 4,083

Warnings: language, angst, fluff (?), kidnapping, spoilers for TFATWS, (Let’s put the angsty shit in this part & the fun stuff in the second one.), (Y/E/C) = your eye color, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The fight in front of you held your entire attention. Eyes focused on moving bodies, kicking, punching their way through. While you were not inexperienced when it came to battling, you preferred holding back. Bruises were not necessarily your favorite. Not these kind of bruises at least. All your ears could make out was the grunting radiating from the combat. Hence why the movements behind you stayed inconspicuous. Only when a cloth pressed against your nose & you had no choice but to breathe in, did you notice the jeopardy of the situation. Darkness enveloped you. The last thing you perceived was a dark silhouette picking you up. As much as you wanted to fight back, to defend yourself, it was impossible. All strength had dissipated. Whatever was happening, you hoped you would wake up again. This could not be how you died. You would not die.

Pain woke you up. But you were not hurt. At least that was what you remembered. Then it came to you. Someone had kidnapped you. If your eyes did not open soon, you would regret it later. Heavy eyelids slowly opened. Though it took many attempts to keep them that way. You scanned the room. There were no windows, no light which would have made that task easier. It took a few minutes to adjust to the obscureness. And once you did, you found yourself as perplexed as before. No restraints were obstructing your motions. Technically, you could up & leave. But it was never that simple, was it? The door was opposite of you. Your muscles were still sore. The act of standing up & waltzing over seemed like too much effort for you. The bleakness of the wall your back rested against was a more welcomed sensation. Your knees scooted closer to your chest. Arms raking around them, you hugged yourself. Hoping it would bring you a bit of comfort. Your brain failed to work properly. Because you were stumped. Who could have possibly seized you? Walker was busy getting his ass kicked. Lemar imitated his partner, pretty much. Sam ordered Bucky to help out & went into the battle right after. And Zemo was… Yeah, where the hell was Zemo during all of that? If you recalled correctly, he held a drink in his hand. Like you, he kept away from the fight. And then? You were aware that the Baron was not a saint. Neither were you. But you did not believe he would pull something like that. Then again, it was Zemo. Nobody knew his next step. Nobody but himself. Your foot tapped a rhythm on the cold, grey pavement. Usually, when your anxiety acted up, you distracted yourself. Fiddling with your hands or bouncing your legs. Something you could focus on that was not life threatening to your mind. The unknown beat managed to calm you down the slightest. Whoever held you hostage would be back soon. Your gut feeling told you so much.

Maybe you dosed off again. Because your body flinched when a creak reached your ears. Quickly, you looked around for possible threats. The only thing that had changed was the door sitting ajar. Only a diminutive gap. It was noticeable due to the light illuminating the room. There was no piece of furniture which meant that nobody lived here. It resembled a cell. But even cells had a bed, a chair. Something. The room turned dim again but only for a second. A shadow, you figured. Your captivator was here. So close, in fact, goosebumps erupted. A chill ran down your spine. This single interaction could modify your imprisonment. You still needed time to consider a successful escape plan. Which meant that you needed to observe the person keeping you here. Movies displayed such situations more than once. It was manageable. If they decided to show themselves & reveal their identity. Your eyes fell to the boots first. Black or a dark brown that was not detectable due to the lack of brightness. Next were the pants. Black again. The end of a coat came into view. Dark grey, almost anthracite. Your thoughts instantly went to one person. You could be mistaken. He was not the only one with a coat like that. Your gaze flickered up to his hands. The leather gloves were proof enough. Your (Y/E/C) eyes locked onto his brown ones. There was no shock written over your features. After all, deep down, you awaited this sight to be met with. As much as you wanted to withhold it, your eyes rolled & the sigh that left your lips was one of pure exhaustion. Zemo never made a secret out of it. His dislike for you started off the moment he first laid his eyes on you. From then on, it only seemed to increase steadily. You were a simple person. If someone treated you like shit, you returned that favor with pleasure & ten times worse.

“You are awake.” he stated the obvious after his frame entered through the doorway.

“Pretty sure I’m still dreaming.” you replied sarcastically, your elbows propping onto your knees. A smirk formed at the corners of his mouth. Whatever you said, it was the wrong thing.

“You dream about being locked inside a small cell? And I make an appearance as well? This does sound problematic, (Y/N). Nothing I would not be able to help you with.” he enjoyed this. Disgust made itself shown onto your face.

“Yeah? How could you possibly help me with that?” it took you a second to fully realize what you said. Immediately, you corrected yourself. “You know what? I don’t even wanna know.” your head rested in your hands, slightly embarrassed by turning this conversation awkward. Maybe it would have been more convenient if you just kept quiet. Zemo chuckled shortly but did not comment on it again.

“I assume you wonder why you are here.” the Baron observed your small frame on the floor. It was easy to recognize how uncomfortable you were.

“Your assumption might be correct.” your head tilted upwards, trying to hide the fear. Burying it deep down. You needed to think clearly so you could escape him.

“Would you like me to declare your purpose?” he questioned, eyebrows raising.

“Enlighten me, Baron.” you wasted no time with your reply. Maybe you imagined it but you could have sworn that his muscles tensed up when you called him by his title. You were the weaker one here so you kept your jokes at bay.

“I have no desire to get involved with the Wakandans. A getaway is more enjoyable with a suitable associate.” his hands gestured & you fathomed the seriousness behind his words.

“Oh, so that’s what I am now? An associate? Could’ve sworn I was your enemy. Improvement, I guess.” you focused on a lighter spot that interrupted the evenly dark color of the cement wall.

“I never declared you my enemy. That is solely your imagination.” Zemo stared at you but you would not give him the satisfaction of holding eye contact with him. He did not deserve it.

“I prefer my imagination then.” you stated & earned another chuckle from the Baron.

“Our departure is soon.” he let you know & left you alone once again. Great, so he did have a plan for you. But it did not seem like he wanted to murder you brutally. Basically, you could do nothing. The lock of the door clicked. No way out of this room. And your cellphone was no longer with you. He probably removed it from you while you were unconscious.

The drug Zemo had you breathe in really affected you. Tiredness rushed through you still. Falling asleep once again was inevitable. A steady, loud noise stirred you from your slumber. When your eyes opened, the chair you were seated in felt familiar. Your surroundings were not new to you. It was Zemo’s private jet. No sight of him. No sight of Sam & Bucky. The only company was the engine of the small plane, creating a ringing in your ears. Surprisingly, you were well rested. Your sleep schedule was messed up. On a good day, you slept for three hours. On a normal day, though, you were lucky if the dreamland even invited you in. Did that mean that you should thank Zemo? For drugging you? Your gratitude could stay inside, for now. It was kind of embarrassing to admit that you had enough rest because of him stunning you. All it would do was feeding his ego. He had enough of that already. Would it be clever to hop out of a plane that was thousands of feet in the air? A clever suicide mission, maybe. Zemo would not harm you. If he truly wanted to, you would be a ghost already. Where was he anyway? Certainly, he would not leave your side after kidnapping you. A look down your lap confirmed what you had feared. The trembling of your hands was noticeable. Almost worse than usual. If push came to shove, you could defend yourself perfectly fine. The Baron did not strike you as a fighter type of guy. Sure, he could handle a gun. In reality, the one thing he could really handle was his alcohol. If you had been in a cell for almost ten years, you would not be able to cope with this world either. Now that you were thinking about it...when was Zemo not drinking? Ever since you guys had teamed up, he had taken every chance to get some liquor into his system.

“How are you feeling?” a voice startled you. The cause of it was your dear captivator. His strut brought him over to you, taking a seat right opposite of you. Plopping down onto the soft cushion with a sigh, he intertwined his fingers in front of his chest. His chin rested on the back of them. The intensity with which he eyed you was unsettling. Your body curled together, shifting away from his rigid glance. The man in front of you frowned. Never before had you behaved that way. Usually, you were sarcastic, humorous. Your current state was uncommon. The fight or flight instinct kicked in. If you played by his rules, the cards were on your side. So the only natural thing was to answer him.

“Okay.” it was short but the tone held much meaning.

“Okay is not good.” he mumbled quietly, though you could still make out his words. The clouds outside of the window you were sitting next to looked like cotton. Smooth, soft. Perfect if you wanted to jump in. The sunset colored the sky in various, bright hues. A phenomenon. That was something that had always fascinated you. “Astonishing, is it not?” the silence broke when he spoke up yet again. You nodded, still gazing outside.

“We will arrive soon.” another voice joined you. The startle from your side could not be stopped. You hated how jumpy you were. Especially during such a situation. The strong, independent woman you usually were was gone. Right now, you were like a little girl, awaiting punishment for misbehavior. Apparently, the Baron was a mind reader because he soothed your worries immediately.

“You did nothing wrong, if that is one of your concerns.” he started. His eyes then flickered to the other man on the private jet. “Thank you, Oeznik.” small smiles were exchanged between the two of them. The assistant disappeared through a door again. Zemo being the only company left.

“Where are we going?” you had to know.

“Somewhere safe. Where nobody can locate me.” as his eyes met yours, he finished. “Us.” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His explanation was not helpful at all. You were still left in the dark. Your destination was unknown but he assured you that you would be safe. Zemo would never lie about something so significant. This bugging feeling was still present. If he did not tell you more about the location, maybe he could elucidate this.

“Why me? Why, out of everyone, did you kidnap me?” slight anger was behind your eyes but one could only notice if they looked precisely. The Baron’s head tilted. In amusement, you guessed. His forming smile held a hint of another emotion you could not quite identify.

“Kidnapping is such a harsh word, don’t you think?” was it mockery you could hear? “I believe there is no need for us to repeat our previous conversation. I told you why you’re here.” he stood up from his seat, dragging his body to the very end of the plane. There, he picked up two small glasses. The liquid of the half empty bottle of scotch poured a good amount in both of them. Evidently, one for him & one for you. His hand stretched out towards you & he offered you the drink. You eyed it suspiciously. While you were not one for drinking alcohol, maybe it would assist to calm your nerves. In the end, you reached for it, touching his hand in the process. The skin contact sent an unintended chill down your spine. Goosebumps were forming. The pit of your stomach felt odd. Never before had you experienced such a sensation. Though, & you had to admit that, it was everything but unpleasant. Your body language spoke louder than you would have liked. And it did not go unnoticed by the man in front of you. To avoid an awkward tension, he decided against commenting on your body’s reaction.

The first sip made you wince. A burning sensation washed down your throat. The Baron handled his alcohol way better than you did, that much was obvious. Unfortunately, the liquor did not numb your anxiety right away. The effect was awaited but luck was not on your side. Would it be rude to ask for another drink? The downside was not realizing how strong it was. If you got wasted then Zemo could take advantage of your state. Depended on how he defined taking advantage of you. The conversation that had died down for a while was resurrected. This time, it was you. This shocked not only you but also him.

“I don’t like you.” you stated monotonously.

“I am aware.” he chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“You don’t like me either.” one of your eyebrows raised.

“An incorrect assumption.” his hands gestured to emphasize his words. You rolled your eyes, throwing your arms up in frustration.

“A freaking obvious fact.” you breathed out, falling back into your chair. The softness caressed you tenderly. A hum left you & your previous desperation was replaced by some sort of relaxation. Why did your emotions change so quickly? One moment, you were scared. The next, you were furious. Then, you untightened. All in the presence of the man who had kidnapped you.

“What is going through your mind right now?” seemed like he was eager to talk to you. Comfortable silence with Baron Zemo was not possible. It was either awkward or not quiet at all. Your head snapped into his direction. He was deep in thought. Occupied with whatever his mind came up with.

“I-I don’t know.” you were being honest. Spending more time with him meant no lies. At least not about such things. The next question came naturally. “What about you?” one corner of his lips lifted slightly. The first step in the right direction. Deep down, Zemo was aware that you did not exactly hate him. Liking him would be too far but at least, you tolerated him. Accepted his presence.

“I am quite fond of bringing you with me. Sam & James are irritating. Helpful but irritating. You are a delight to be around.” he confessed & you had the urge to call him out on his ridiculous behavior.

“Sounds fake but alright…” your annoyance was audible.

“I beg your pardon?” he abandoned his glass, placing it on the small table nearby. Elbows propped onto his knees & his upper body leaned forward, closer to you. But not close enough to make you feel uncomfortable.

“Ever since we met, we’ve been arguing non-stop. This is the first normal conversation between us.” your fingers pointed to him & then to you, signaling what you were talking about.

“Arguments are not an indicator for antipathy.” Zemo explained.

“Oh, they’re not?” the sarcasm was more than obvious. “What then?”

“They are concealing true emotions, burying your urges deep within.” casually spoken, as if he had prepared this exact speech multiple times before.

“My urges?” you questioned, making fun of his statement.

“Indeed.” he wore a winning smile & you hated the effect it had on you.

“Sure.” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “My only urge is to punch yo-“ both of your heads turned into the direction of Oeznik who unknowingly interrupted your conversation.

“We’re here.” he claimed, nodding briefly, & left you alone again. By the way his face changed, he looked like he was sorry for bothering the two of you. Truthfully, you were glad that he joined you because without him, you would have said something regrettable.

Paris. He dragged you to France. If your situation were any different, you would have felt excited to be here. Before you exited the private jet, Zemo threatened you. If you had the glorious idea to speak up before you arrived at your destination, you would regret it later. Basically, you thought he would kill you. Of course you had no clue that the Baron would never hurt you in any way. After all, you were a victim of his kidnapping. Whether he called it that or not. The small alleyways were decorated with narrow buildings sitting next to each other. The cobblestone street underlined the atmosphere perfectly. Eyes wide, you were overwhelmed by the impression of the beauty of the sweet town. When one of his hands reached for yours, you did not even flinch back. Because, if you were honest, it felt good. Your intertwined fingers brought you warmth. A feeling that spread out through your entire body. Sparks, almost like the beginning of a firework, started forming. The sun shone brightly. Your eyes closed contently. Hence why you did not notice Zemo watching your every move. He reminisced your features closely. The sunlight brought out the beauty of you in a way that was worth remembering. Your body sensed something. It was in your nature when someone stared at you. Carefully, your eyes opened, showing the (Y/E/C) colors that glowed almost mysteriously in the light. Warm brown ones locked onto yours. The two of you exchanged an honest, almost shy smile.

“What?” your head tilted to the side, observing his face. Looking for a sign. Any sign. But Zemo was a clandestine guy. It was almost impossible to look through him. Something inside you took that as a challenge. Maybe you could make his walls come crashing down. Maybe you were the one to change him. Wait. Why were your thoughts running down that road? He was the person to take you away from your friends. The sympathy that started building up was wrong. That much you knew. Resisting felt like a tough task. What did he say during the flight? Something about pushing down your urges. This was the first time you understood the meaning.

If you thought the town was pretty then the apartment you entered was stunning. It was on the top floor. Spacious, furnished in a minimalist way. Overly white, accentuated with colorful artwork. Special pieces to complete the look of it. It screamed expensive. The process of taking everything in took a few minutes. It was overstraining. In the best way possible. You should screw down your excitement. After all, you were part of an incredibly dangerous situation. But you let his touch linger on your skin. Just for a fraction longer. If you really wanted to, you could have retreated. Something told you that Zemo would not have forced you to hold onto him. That thought alone calmed you down a little further. Technically, he was not a stranger. Throughout the missions you had performed together, with Sam & Bucky, you two had become acquainted with. You were associates, apparently. And associates were not supposed to fear one another. Then again, associates would not kidnap each other. Your body was overthrown with mixed signals. Unknown what was wrong & what was right. Your friends would probably describe you as insane, reckless. Maybe you were. Maybe the last few weeks had formed you into a different type of person. That type who sympathized with a criminal. With a criminal who broke out of a high security jail. Since when had criminals become your type? And why were you starting to think in a very friendly, almost amorous way? Looked like you really were insane.

Who would have thought the Baron to be an excellent chef? Definitely not you. But here he was, preparing a meal for you. This was actually pretty sweet of him. His body behind the stove & his eyes focused on the task. It was a sight for sore eyes. Only, of course, if he were not Zemo you were referring to. While he cooked, you set the table. He assured you that you did not have to but it felt like the right thing to do. It was the least you could do. What were you even saying? He kidnapped you, for God’s sake. Your body, your emotions, should be damned.

“Is this something you do often?” Zemo’s question caught you off guard. For a moment, you halted in your tracks. Cutlery was being put down. A deep breath left your mouth.

“What?” your bewildered expression made him chuckle. Funny to watch your perplexity.

“Living in your head more than in the present.” his proclamation cut through the tension.

“I…um, haven’t realized that, actually.” you answered awkwardly. Your hand raised to the back of your head, resting behind your ear.

“You do. When spending time with Sam & James. And now. It is quite entertaining.” he eyed you closely. It made you slightly uncomfortable.

“Why?” your curiosity got the best of you. That was nothing new. Even before he brought you here, your nosiness was on of your more obvious characteristics.

“Because the light in your eyes shifts. You are more at ease. Not to forget your smile…” Zemo trailed off at the end of his sentence, voice a little softer than usual.

“What about my smile?” you really were curious. Would it be in your favor or not? There was only one way to figure that out.

“It differs from when you are actively engaged in a conversation. The corners of your mouth lift in a softer way. No hesitation or restriction.” he finished, his sparkling brown eyes meeting yours. Due to the embarrassment, you could not keep eye contact. So you averted your gaze, facing the almost empty plate in front of you.

“You talk like you’ve known me forever.” your whispers were almost missed. The tone so quiet, even your racing heart was louder.

“I am simply skilled at reading people. You facilitate that process, actually.” every single word he spoke made so much sense that it almost did not make sense anymore. There was no other way to describe it.

“I do? How?” your constant short questions were amusing to him. On one hand, you wanted to distance yourself from him as much as possible. On the other hand, you inquired every single time he finished talking.

“I assume it is because you do not fear opening up to me & letting me in.” people who did not know your history would have believed you two had been friends for years. By the way he discerned the small, almost unnoticeable details about you. Details you did not even know existed in the first place.

“You assume an awful lot, Baron.” you teased, eyes moving to his face gingerly.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” but you could not. Because it would have been a lie. A smirk made its way onto his face when you did not give him a reply. Unintentionally, you mimicked his expression. He had you. Right here, he had you. And he was not the only one aware of the shift in the situation. You were just as deep in it as he was. It was a game with fire. Who would get burned in the end?

~to be continued~

Published (04/28/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @hiddlestoner-cumberbitch, @msmarvelsmain, @friday18eo, @crackerjackharkness, @waiting-for-motivation, @obsessedwithfandomsx, @friday18eo, @bibliophilewednesday, @princess-yuna, @trenton007, @pedropascallovebot, @your-lovers-heart, @stressedoutsteph (thanks for your support <3)

[yandere-sins]

Grin

Yantober List! Feel free to participate at any point :3

Okay this was the hardest. Grin reallyyyy made me think about my choices in life. But I guess it’s more of a filler chapter! Hope you guys enjoy!

»»————————————  ♡ ————————————««  

Rhys had many faces. Figuratively, but also quite literally.

He was the cool guy, always a joke on his lips. The one you’d invite to your party the very same night when you met him in the hallway, and he’d accept, asking if he should bring beer. And then actually showed up. 

Many had been witness to his cleverness. Sometimes, he even brought fake glasses, putting them on jokingly before getting down to help his classmates. However, it was actually easy to follow his instructions. He took whatever time it needed to explain it properly so that even the last person was able to understand it. Rhys would always pat said person’s back, praising them for doing a good job too, never expecting that anyone paid him back.

Under different circumstances, you might have agreed he was a respectable lover too. His exes could confirm that despite their relationship breaking apart, they never went into different directions on bad terms. He was incredibly attentive and open to any kind of affection. No matter what it took, he always tried to please and help, be a good listener, a guy that always remembered anniversaries. 

Really, he was a well-loved, well-respected young man for his age. One that people saw graduating with a high degree, in a field that would give him a high paying job and a lot of backpacks in the future. No one really understood why he’d set out a whole semester out of the blue, but they all blamed the death of a good friend of him, and that was that. No one expected the real reason behind it.

You.

Some could have argued that meeting you was not only the end of your life but also his. All of Rhys’s interests changed suddenly in favor of you. All his thoughts, interactions, words circled around you, and you were all that he was interested in. It was hard to describe how someone could change so much overnight, but that was just because it never happened before, and Rhys never let anyone see his changes.

Suddenly, if it didn’t have you in it, things weren’t interesting anymore. He’d still go on fun events with his friends, but only when you tagged along, and he’d help your friends out much more than his, hoping you’d join in. This was his new thing, the new Rhys. A Rhys that could not bear to go without his daily dose of you, and he was never satisfied anymore without it.

That face of his when he lost all interest after being told you wouldn’t join the event… it was scary.

So blank, so void of emotions. As if his life suddenly didn’t matter anymore. His voice could be sincere or joking, but it didn’t reach his facial play. There was simply… nothing. And it scared anyone who looked at him.

But the literal worst where the faces only you knew.

The face of pleasure, which he showed you whenever Rhys fell into a circle of thoughts about how much he loved you, never missed making you uncomfortable. It was just too sincere. He was too excited, brimming with happiness. More often than not, you had to swallow the bitter reality to see this specific face, let him touch and grope you in ways you did not want it. Other times, you just knew he was fantasizing about you after watching you do something very mundane like scratch your face in embarrassment or play with his fingers. It had been cute to see him so lovestruck at first, but by now, you realized that there was nothing sweet nor normal about it.

Oftentimes, when you ‘misbehaved’ you also became a victim of his emotionless stare. Still, the one he gave you was even worse than the one other people witnessed on him. It frequently came with the endless dread of knowing he could snap any second, but he never let you know when. There could be lashing out, screaming at you, violent outbursts, but you never knew if they would happen or when, and that made you much more anxious than the prospect of his tantrums. Rhys’s eyes were bristled with disappointment, anger, spite, but everything else was just a blank, straight face that made your neck hair rise, and you folded into yourself even before something happened, scared.

However, if there had been anyone to ask you which one was the worst of them all, the absolute most terrifying one you had to describe, it would have been his grin.

Simple, easy, just his grinning face.

There were so many things that were unsettling you about it. Sometimes, it was just a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. For example, if he was holding polite small talk, but at the same time, press his hand into the small of your back, letting you know that it was out of question that you could do anything stupid. It felt like he had control over you despite doing almost nothing. Nothing really could have stopped you from spilling the beans, screaming, crying, or running, but when you looked at his face for just a matter of a few seconds, your blood froze, the grin he gave you a silent yet effective warning. 

Or the times when you actually did something wrong, and he let you know just how worthless you were. Usually, he’d be all “I love you” and “You are the most important person in my life” but when you did something that Rhys did not approve of, misbehaved in any way, or tried to annoy him deliberately, this grin would put you back in place, letting you know about how displeased he was and that there wouldn’t be dinner for you that evening. 

You kind of wanted to provoke him, but it still makes you uneasy.

But the worst one - and you’d never forget it, it was ingrained in your brain forever - was the one grin he gave you after your punishment. Laying in his arm, you were ready to settle this ‘argument’ aside for the day when you made the mistake of looking up at him. The cold shudder in your back was less of a reaction Rhys might have expected, but what you saw in his face shocked you, and you quickly looked away, wanting to move out of his arms, but he only held you tighter. His grin spoke of achievement, of winning. Of his superiority over you. Ever since you met this grin, you were adamant about never wanting to see it again, as it was abominable and cruel to see how confirmed he was in his thinking and doing. Looking away, you’d try to hide, not wanting to think of the what next and how to handle this situation. 

And at that moment, both of you knew you lost, and Rhys won, even if this thought made you nauseous.

Continue

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Magical Loopholes

Chapter 40: Magic Over Science

It had been a very long night. But a productive night. For the longest time, he'd felt like looking into the curse at the town line was headache-inducing. For every answer he developed, two more questions followed. But finally, he was beginning to feel like he was on top of it, narrowing down the magic that was there, getting something accomplished. He might not feel like he was out of the woods yet with it, but he felt like he was getting somewhere. Of course, having a solid, completed potion at morning's first light helped that feeling.

During one particular experiment last night, he'd found a hint of magic in his samples of the curse that didn't belong, something weak. In exploring it a little more, he realized it was magic borne of the previous barrier, the one that kept people from leaving Storybrooke. Though he was committed to getting himself out to see Baelfire, he was also committed to keeping Belle safe. If that meant protecting the rest of the town just to protect her, then that was what he was going to do. Besides, what he'd had in mind was so easy that not doing it seemed foolish.

A few hours later, just as the sun came up, he'd completed his project. It was sealed inside a tiny glass vial but still not complete. Once it was done, when it was time, it would act as a barrier again, but this time in reverse. Once he returned with Baelfire, he could activate it, and it would form a seal around Storybrooke, keeping the outside world safely away from the town. It would be a precaution, just something for a little extra safety. However, the spell wasn't done yet.

The magic that he'd found inside the curse would work, but it was weak. It would need a powerful dose of magic before it was ready to protect the entire town, magic that he couldn't provide. It needed Light Magic. The Dark Curse had been made of Dark Magic to keep them in their cage. This had to be made of Light Magic to reverse it and keep others out. Fortunately, he had a plan for that.

David had mentioned when they'd gone to find Belle that they'd been working with Fairy Dust in the mines. Dove had informed him that the word on the street was that he was doing it so that he might open up a portal to get Emma and Mary Margaret back; as if that had any chance of working. Still, no matter the reasons, he knew the mines traveled throughout the entire town; if and when they found fairy dust there, that would do the trick. It was a small vial, but when willed properly, the potion would work with the fairy magic to spread it throughout the town and create the border. When the time was right…

He wrote out his notes on a small scroll so he wouldn't forget, then rolled the small potion up in it and slipped it into his black bag for safekeeping just as the sun came up. He used magic to take himself home so that he could shower and change clothes, before using magic to return to the pawnshop, glance over into the library to make sure nothing looked amiss, and then get down to work. After the night he'd had, he was happy to do some ordinary things in his shop: polishing, appraising, tinkering. It was nice to let his mind go blank for a few hours. In a perfect world, he'd be sharing this time with Belle, but until she decided the time was right, until she was ready to tell him that she wanted him back in her life for that hamburger, then he'd continue to keep his distance and watch from afar.

It was late afternoon when he finally sent out his usual check-in with Dove. Yesterday he'd concluded his time of spying on Smee. He'd brought him a list of places he'd gone to, the people he'd seen, and on occasion provided a picture for him. None of them were the wretched pirate. That, combined with his experiments the previous night, convinced him…he'd told the truth, Hook was not in this realm. Small favors, he supposed. But that didn't mean he was willing to let Dove go so easily. It was a small town, but he knew that it was bigger than it seemed. He wanted him for his eyes and ears out there, and that was why he'd sent him a message this afternoon.

Anything I should know about, Mr. Dove?

He expected silence or a snide remark. Instead, to his shock, he received a relevant update.

Not that I know of. Sounds like Dr. Whale and the Mayor are just settling an old score of some kind.

Well, that was a unique update indeed. And sent with such reassurance that it sounded like he thought he knew what he was talking about. If that were the case, it must have been all over town. If he needed to eat, or this had been before the Curse, he might have gone to Granny's and heard something, but he'd been camping out in his shop for days with little interaction with others. He didn't know anything of what he'd just sent him. So, he responded to the message.

Oh, how so?

He waited a solid five minutes for the answer, and when it came, he didn't think there was a way he could have prepared for it.

Turns out the guy is Dr. Frankenstein, like, the one from our memories. He resurrected one of the Mayor's old ex's using some kind of stolen magical heart from the cemetery. Things went very wrong for a while, but it sounds like everything is under control. She handled it, killed the guy again, or something like that. Anything else?

He smirked, practically hearing the snide remark that he'd been expecting in his head, already prepared with an answer.

Rent's due today. I'll assume you are doing your part.

There was no reply to that, but he was fine with that. Dove had given him other things to think about.

Frankenstein had resurrected Regina's "ex"? Daniel? With a magical heart from a cemetery? Well, he couldn't exactly see Regina willing to agree to such a thing given what had occurred the last time he'd "attempted" to resurrect Daniel; at least she shouldn't be if he'd done his job properly. But then why would Whale involve himself without request? What would make him want to do that? And a heart from the cemetery…well, now he knew for sure, Regina was keeping her magic in the cemetery, probably in that mausoleum that she kept her father in. There was a good chance that was also where she'd kept Daniel. But still, steal him of his own free will for no reason? It made not a single lick of sense.

The bell to shop rang. He nearly shivered when he looked up to see Whale, formerly known as Dr. Frankenstein, standing there. It was nothing specific that set a chill down his spine but rather a realization. The doctor had never been in this shop before. They'd never come face to face in Storybrooke before, never had the need to. But the image of Whale here now…it was familiar. What he was wearing, the box he was carrying, the pale look on his face, even the fucking light spilling into the shop, he'd seen all of it before! In a vision he'd had just before he'd sent Jefferson back with the Doctor to his own world. They'd argued, quarreled over whether magic or science was the greater power. Obviously, he'd been on the side of magic and the doctor on the side of science. But the vision had told him that someday a time would come with the Doctor would change his opinion and eat his words. Today was the day.

He put down his work and met Whale at one of the tables where he promptly set the box, a cooler, on the table and opened the lid. He had a strong stomach, but he didn't think that even a vision would have properly prepared him for the left arm sitting upon ice still dressed up in a white sleeve. He glanced up at the doctor and noted that his left hand wasn't sticking out of his sleeve as the right one was. He collected himself and glanced up at the doctor.

"When they say I charge an arm and a leg, that's meant as a figure of speech."

"Put it back."

"You want me to reattach your arm?" he questioned.

"Can you do it?"

"Of course," he answered. So…this was what would bring the doctor back to him after all these years? This was what he was willing to trade his opinion for. He had a bum leg, he couldn't blame him for wanting his arm back, but he wasn't about to forget what had happened before. "But first, tell me why."

"Because I want to use it again."

"Obviously," he chuckled, but not exactly what he was talking about. He wanted to hear the words. But seeing as how his Dove was only sending him the bare minimum of information these days, he also wanted answers. "I meant, why bring that stable boy back from the dead? Why now?"

Whale sighed and looked away. He shifted his weight and winced as he stared at the ground avoiding his gaze, classic indications of guilt. No matter why he'd done it, he obviously felt it hadn't been worth it in the end. "I thought…" he finally choked out. "I thought that if I helped her, she would return me to my world. I want to see my brother–to try to bring him back again."

"Again?" he prompted with genuine curiosity. The last time he'd seen Whale, he'd sent him back to his world with a magical heart, but that was where the story ended for him. He'd had no need of him after he'd succeeded with Regina. He'd never asked Jefferson again what had become of him. And so now he waited in eager anticipation of the story he didn't know.

Whale paused, sorrow written on his face. "The first time ended badly," he answered. "I need to return and try it once more."

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. He almost felt bad for the moron. His explanation made sense, but he'd made some great assumptions before acting that were his downfall. It was a piss poor plan. There was no returning to the other world, not without destroying this one, and considering that would mean leaving Henry behind, he really doubted that would happen just to return Whale to his brother. And really, there was nothing to be done. He'd provided the heart, the best heart that he had. If it "hadn't ended well," then there was really nothing else to be done that could change that from happening again.

"Well, it seems that's rather beyond her abilities," he informed him with a false smile. "My condolences."

Whale didn't particularly look surprised at the news. He merely nodded and peered down into the cooler. "Now, my arm. You said you can do it," he whispered.

"Oh, yes. But there's a difference between can and will," he smiled.

"Name your price."

"Say it," he ordered.

"Say what?" he asked innocently enough. Oh, how quickly they "forgot."

"You know what," he argued back. "You came here, not the hospital. So, say it."

Oh yes, he knew. The Doctor knew what he wanted and didn't want it. He enjoyed it, watching him twist and flail and sneer as they stood there before he violently shrugged his jacket off and revealed what the creature he'd made was truly capable of. His sleeve was torn off, soaked with blood on one side, but still, he glared at him as he took a deep breath and finally said, "I need magic."

And there it was, the line he'd heard all those years ago. The shiver he felt now was from complete and utter satisfaction. It was worth it to finally win that argument.

"That's all I needed to hear," he stated before waving his hand over to the one in the cooler. The magic barely took a thought, and the arm was back on the Questionable Doctor's shoulder as it should have been. He raised his hand in front of him and stared at it, completely amazed. But he didn't have time for amazed. He didn't have the patience for it. So, he extended his hand across the useless cooler toward the Doctor. "Always a pleasure doing business with you, uh, Victor," he beamed like the salesman he was.

The doctor reached out and shook his hand. Finally, their deal was complete.

[ifyouknowme-stayaway]

A body swap Assassination Classroom fic would be chaotic between two people, but have you considered all of E class getting swapped withe each other?

For reasons unknown, they all get swapped with each other, and while Koro-sensej, Karasuma, and Irina know, they can't tell their parents and family because how do you even explain that kind if stuff.

Thankfully, it only lasts for three days.

Unfortunately, it lasts for three days.

Like, we all know the kind of normal stuff from those kinds of fics, the whole trying not to act out of character and stuff. But have you thought of the skills they should/shouldn't have as that person?

Like, even though Maehara knows Isogai better and can therefore stay in character more easily, it's a good thing Isogai and Hara were the ones who were switched with each other. They're both good with kids, and are awesome at cooking, so their families are... less suspicious of them. Hara isn't as creative with money as Isogai, but she is crazy good with her hands and improvising. Isogai gets to have a good three days in Hara's life. He does, on the other hand, discover the way some people treat Hara because of how she looks. It sucks, and he promises himself that he'll make sure not to let things like that slide if he can help it. Being told those kind of things hurt, and are also annoying.

Maehara gets switched with Mimura, and while Mimura is at first ecstatic to have gotten switched with one of the most popular guys in class, man did he underestimate Maehara. Seriously, the guy may act all smooth but he really does blush easily, not ignoring the fact that there's just so much attention on him! Maehara also isn't used to living like Mimura, because really, how do people live without the validation of being liked by girls and guys alike? How does he live without people to respond to his pickup lines and do cute couple things? How do you function without the sound of two disasters (aka older sisters) and excessively teasing each other?

Fuwa and Takebayashi switch, and just. Fuwa absolutely hates the high expectations and radio silence Takebayashi's family gives her. Takebayashi doesn't get how to be as open and enthusiastic as Fuwa, like doesn't she get tired of being that openly passionate? They end up having a long conversation where Fuwa admits that being that open and happy is a little tiring, and Takebayashi admits that he does want to be praised and appreciated sometimes.

I do want to try brainstorming for Nagisa and Karma switching, but they're both really different and there are a lot of ideas out there already. I don't think I can think of any that haven't already been thought up by someone else. So, I'll do Karma and Nakamura getting switched (yes, this has also probably already been done a lot, but I just want to do this)

At first it seems like a simple thing, they're both pranksters and troublemakers, they joke around a lot, should be easy to impersonate each other. Except it isn't that easy to get used to what the other goes through, is it?

Karma doesn't know how he's supposed to interact with Nakamura's family, since he rarely talks to his own parents, and has no idea how to deal with her older brother. He's used to lonely silence, covered up by video game music and his own voice (he sometimes talks to himself, it's just a small habit). An entire family with high/low expectations for him? He's not sure how to respond with them never expecting a joker like him to do well and their disappointment that he doesn't do as well as they want him to.

Nakamura should have an easier time, since she doesn't need to fool Karma's family and friends (his parents are travelling, and he doesn't actually have any friends outside of E class), but it's still hard for her! Because Karma's picked fights with like, everyone in half the alleys at some point. And don't get her wrong, Nakamura's good at fighting, she can take down a fair few of her classmates without too much trouble, but a bunch of thugs who are older than her? That's a bit of a challenge! She's lucky that switching then came with all the fighting instincts Karma's been building up for years.

Wow, that was a lot longer than I thought it would be. On to the next two, we have Sugino and Nagisa. They both take about an hour to get used to their new bodies ("Nagisa, how do you function with being so small" "Why are your arms so strong" "Your hair is so long, Kayano, come here and please teach me how to tie it better" "Sugino help me your baseball instincts make me want to catch or hit basically everything").

Then, there is the angst. Nagisa is surprised by Sugino's family, which are pretty outdoorsy and, ignoring the fact that his mom really wants him to tell her basically everything, is pretty much perfect. Except his little brother, who definitely can't be trusted as much as Sugino can be when it comes to secrets. Sugino definitely needs a more than a moment to figure out Nagisa's sorry excuse of a mother, because yeah, his wants him to tell her everything even when he'd rather keep it quiet, but Nagisa's mother is so much worse. He wishes he could give Nagisa a hug and also a new family, and maybe tell Karma to give Nagisa's mom a small dose of fear, but he doesn't. He wants to get mad or talk back at her, but he doesn't. This is Nagisa's body, Nagisa's life, and all he can do is his best to keep damage at a minimum. He plays along with what she wants, says what he thinks is the right thing to say at the right times, and tries to stay out of trouble, for Nagisa's sake. Maybe get her in a good mood and put them on better terms for when Nagisa has to deal with her again, so he won't get hurt as much. He still hates her, though.

Hmm, Kanzaki and Hazama. Kanzaki is used to high expectations and strict parents, but not Hazama's kind of strict. Her father was the kind of person who went quiet when he was angry, so being screamed at by Hazama's mother was honestly terrifying for Kanzaki. Really, she was scared out her mind by her screeching. Hazama is smart and can handle almost anything that gets thrown at her, but acting all sweet and kind like Kanzaki? Nope, she tries her best but it's pretty unconvincing, seeing Hazama's used to acting dark and scary as opposed to Kanzaki's much sweeter nature. Let's just say that she was lucky Kanzaki's older brother noticed she needed help and covered for her without asking questions. He also doesn't want her to get in trouble, even if he says it's just because he doesn't want their parents to get mad and go out of his way to stay out of trouble.

There are still a bunch of other combinations and stuff, but I think I'm done with this for today. Please say what you think of this, and add on with your own ideas if you'd like!

[mochuelovelli]

Lilith for the character ask?

Oh boy, a controversial character! Gotta say, I stan James Charles /J

How do I feel about this character?:

On a real note, I do like Lilith as a character. When we first meet her, she's pompous and proud. Oozing with entitlement, she's easy to route against and you like to see her get worked up and "brought down" to Eda's level as the wild which so eloquently put it. Later on, but not too much later that it feels disingenuous, we really get to see her show that she cares for her sister. One might believe it is *Eda* being ridiculous, as far as the audience is aware, Lilith's offer holds little downsides. Eda would be cured and be afforded the luxuries of the upper class AND keep her magic. All she had to do was be the Emperor's soldier.

As to not get off track by talking about Eda, (im sure Lilith herself would loathe that lol) Lilith's reveal to have cursed her sister over a spot in the emperor's coven was...controversial to say the least. I don't think it's unpopular to voice that, yeah. It could've been communicated better to the audience since I saw plenty of commentators and regular fans themselves either thought Lilith cursing her sister was *needlessly* petty and not at all thought out (which yeah it kinda was).

From where I stand on that issue is, yeah, Lilith's whole reason to curse her sister could've been avoided by just talking to her sister and asking her to let her have this. BUT, I think a lot of people forget that the Emperor's coven would want to limit the number of powerful witches in their coven. Sure, Belos would want to be protected by a bunch of loyal soldiers, but he wouldn't want too much of the population to ever have a much power as him. So limiting the number of members in not just his coven but possible in the other major covens, would aid in controlling that population.

This might be pure hogwash but like, there are a ton of other "lesser" covens. So in my mind, it's more likely that the general population of witches gets sorted into one of the various miscellaneous. If you think limiting yourself to only practicing Illusion magic sucks, imagine only practicing whatever the fuck the "swag coven" does.

Lol gonna add a page break this shit is getting too long

Romantic Ships for this character?:

Hm, it's only s1 and we haven't seen her interact w/ many characters outside of her fam/Belos/actual children. I kinda jokingly ship here with Steve lol. Kikimora and her also have a funny dynamic but in all actuality, I don't ship her w/ anyone rn.

Non-Romantic Ships for this character?:

Her and Hooty lol. I mean Eda is an obvious answer but like, Hooty fucking with Lilith is too funny to not want to see. Her and King would be great too, probably get some good B plots out of it. It would be a good contrast since they both can be petty but in different ways and I think that would help flesh out their characters a bit more and maybe cause some introspection (at least on Lilith’s end lol)

Unpopular opinion about this character?:

Lol. I feel like she is such a divisive character in general that most opinions about her aren’t too out of the main stream. I guess a more meta take is that when she’s portrayed in fanworks, usually fanfic but not exclusively, very...one note lol. She’s usually a pretty flat, boring character in an attempt to highlight the contrast between her and Eda. She’s the straight-laced, “responsible” sibling who has a chip on her shoulder. In fanon, that equates to her characterization to either be like, completely and utterly apologetic to the point where it becomes unbelievable for any person to do. Her apologizing or making amends is usually quickly forgiven by Luz/and or Eda. Sure, Luz is very forgiving person naturally but like?? She’s wasn’t mad in canon too much about THEIR well being (almost getting impaled), she was specifically pissed about Lilith betraying Eda. 

So, if Lilith is a big part of your story (and it’s working in the realm of canon), then this should be a problem which doesn’t get resolved by just ONE big action. I also feel like her being on better terms with Eda would come BEFORE Luz since Eda’s main gripe with her would be about her being annoyed by Lilith’s controlling nature and the fact that she didn’t trust her enough to talk about her feelings back when she was first cursed (also her using Luz against her but I feel like that would probably be a hurdle that wouldn’t really be over come until Lilith in turn would be willing to sacrifice herself for Luz while also making an effort to care for Luz as a person not just see her as a “pet”). Hhhh this section is so long and its kinda bleeding over in the next question so-

Something I wish will happen or would have wanted to happen in canon?:

yall if you are still reading I am so sorry sksk

I want Lilith in general, not to be forgiven by either Luz or Eda. Eda probably early on stating about how she is unsure if she could EVER forgive her sister for what she has done. BUT, critically, Eda would see that Lilith is trying and she is willing to work with her (with a unhelpful dose of teasing) because at the end of the day she still loves her sister. For the relationship they had before everything with south, for knowing her side of the story even though she believes it doesn’t justify her actions. She understands and sympathizes, she’s grown a bit softer thanks to Luz, which is very funny since I want Luz to be the one who is the hardest to convince Lilith actually had a change of heart but more on that later. 

Before I move on to what I want her path towards forgiveness with Luz looks like, I want to bring up a parallel that I haven’t seen many people make. Fans always talk about the parallel between the Clawthornes and Luz/Amity, and rightly so because there is a lot to extrapolate there, but I think another interesting dynamic that might be interesting to see in s2 would be an episode that focuses on lost friendship/sisterhood with the Clawthornes and Amity and Willow. It’s kinda funny that Amity and Willow’s friendship was ruined because Willow was too “weak” while Eda was too “powerful”. In a potential episode, it can show the progression both Eda/Lilith and Willow/Amity are making in rekindling their relationship with each other. For Eda and Lilith this would be a lot more rough around the edges since it both be either the first or one of the first attempts at doing so while Willow/Amity would maybe be further along yet still have some major/minor hang ups with one another. With Willow/Amity, their relationship would either be rounding the bend of fully moving past the “idk how to feel about you stage” or it is stated outright that Willow forgives Amity, (and by forgive, I mean in the “we both know what you did, you’ve actually changed. we won’t have the same relationship that we once had but I’m okay with trying again”). In contrast, Lilith and Eda would reach a understanding and come up with some ground rules on how to handle each other (Eda’s main take away from this “episode” would be what I previously stated in the last question), ones that will be more like guidelines cuz its Eda lol. Also what separates the Clawthornes conflict from the Willow/Amity one (besides the obvious) is that the Clawthornes both know how the other works. Which buttons to push and all that so both of them are going to have to learn to resist doing that, at least a bit, in order to actually progress. 

ANYWAYS, I also want Luz to be the one to regard Lilith the coldest. Luz refusing to let Lilith teach her anything despite probably having more practical/book smarts knowledge on magic theory than Eda because she doesn’t trust her. If they are gonna use that masked dude as a spy, I want Luz to assume Lilith is somehow a coconspirator. This plot thread doesn’t have to be going at 100% the whole time, (in fact I would want it to be a temp thing maybe lasting a couple eps at most or like, just something that is hinted at but not dived deeply until the second half of the season). Really, Lilith has a hard time because Luz straight up doesn’t give her the opportunity to really express her regret/remorse. Lilith probably won’t at first give her a ton of reasons to forgive her as she usually attempts at coming back at Luz’s snide remarks with her own quippy comebacks. Sksk a really angsty end to an attempt could include Lilith saying something to Luz after going on a small talk with her (where yeah Lilith has improved but still needs noticeable work) that she “reminds her a lot of Eda” and Luz bites back with something like “Oh yeah? You going to curse me too? You want another person you can force to do what YOU want?”. 

Hell maybe “parental problems” could have Lilith poke at, either on purpose or accidentally, Luz’s feelings about going back to the human world and Camila. Lilith reminding her, maybe unknowingly, reminds her a lot of her mom and that causes her to blow up on her. Luz would hate that comparison, thinking about how similar her mom and Lilith are to one another. That because she still has such a strong dislike of Lilith, it bleeds over into how Luz views Camila and vice versa. In that, both Camila and Lilith value respect, an adherence to the rules, have a great sense of wisdom (arguably for Lilith lol /hj), and (eventually for Lilith once she gets to know Luz better) a genuine want for Luz to succeed and belief in her even though they are critical of her actions at times. Sure Eda reminds her of that more, motherly protective kind of love, in which she would do anything for her to be happy and healthy. Lilith can be the other side of that, the worry and slight doubt. That familiar way they each go about trying to understand and get close to Luz yet not quite getting it yet would still do whatever she’d ask for her sake. Luz at first would take Lilith being disappointed in her actions as an accomplishment. As they grow closer and the more Lilith reminds her of her mom, it becomes scary. The disappointment hurts and in an effort not to feel like that again and to not want to think about the comparison between Lilith and her mother she will snap back at her. Eventually Lilith would then have to change again and reassure her that she cares and by extent, her mother cares to. It is here Lilith is willing to let go of being so constantly controlling and learns to encourage first (or do some form of the compliment sandwich) and Luz comes to peace with her feelings about her mother and understands her position better. To be able to love herself even if she knows that she will always try to do her best. 

oh my fucking god you made it im so sorry i guess i had a lot of thoughts. fffffff

[wetalkaboutbooks]

The Raven King- Nora Sakavic

So, I’ve finished book two. I am a little bit heartbroken, but a lot more excited to see how this series ends. This review will hopefully be shorter than my last one as I have a lot less to complain about. I’ve decided to split it into two sections again, one fore small things I liked/disliked and another for the more serious things I’d like to talk about. Spoilers for book one and two of All for the Game under the cut, so be warned. Here we go!

The Small Things

The dialogue was far better in this book. It was consistent and you could see that Sakavic has gained a better understanding of her characterization. It was still jilted at times, and by no means have the exposition dumps stopped, but since discovering this is self published I feel that it is necessary to be more lenient with the writing flaws.

Neil wearing jorts that one time, not very notable but it made a lot of sense for some reason.

The Foxes fans are a bit too much like furries for me to be comfortable, seeing as I have a deep seated fear of mascots, so that added both a wonderful dose of realism and fear to the pre-game scenes.

Why did Riko kiss Kathy, also was it implied to be more than a kiss? If so, what the hell dude, that’s weird.

The scene at the first banquet with the ravens was wonderful, they should be so lame but somehow came across as genuinely intimidating and cool.

The game scenes were incredible as always, the way Sakavic over describes everything builds tension so flawlessly. It has you on the edge of your seat, and I truly enjoyed each chapter where they were playing.

Another wonderful scene was with Andrew after one of the games, sitting on the floor with Wymack, surrounded by his pills. It was so well done.

I hope to see more of Renee and Allison, I think they’re quite brilliant

The character interactions worked a lot better in this book, it started off a bit rough but by the end everything just flowed so wonderfully, it’s very nice seeing the characters grow through the authors writing.

Aaron was fantastic this time round.

The Big Things

I think I’m going to start a bit smaller and work my way down, this book has so much to cover that I doubt I’ll be able to hit every point worth talking on, but that being said these are the things I recall as sticking out and that really stuck with me.

Seth. Yes, I know, he’s not really an important point in context to the rest of the book, but I feel the need to address the importance and handling of his death. I felt like the mix between Neil’s apathy and difficulty with acknowledging death as something difficult to confront and how heartbroken Allison was fascinating. Allison was the perfect portrayal of grief, the withdrawn outsider attitude that pushed her away from the team and the pressing weight of her absence as she came to terms with the loss. It gave his death a feeling of fleeting importance, something that affected the people who cared for him but left the world around him almost untouched. I think that it shows that while the entire world doesn’t stop when someone dies, the world of the people who care for them stops as they have to come to terms with what happened. I hope that in the next book we can see a bit more of Allison.

Kevin. Another positive thing that this book did! I will be blunt, as far as book one goes, I did not care about Kevin. He was one sided, boring, and just plain compared to the rest of the cast. This book, however, I find him to be so much more interesting as he provides such a bizarre perspective, namely after Andrew takes leave. I can’t quite explain it, but the way he deals with his anger and pain is just very relatable to me. I love him quite a bit. A bit odd with Wymack being his dad, that was a turn I didn’t really expect.

Neil getting a phone. I feel like his trauma surrounding phone calls was dealt with in a very mixed manner. I think that the forced exposure therapy type treatment Andrew gives is not best to project as an appropriate way of dealing with past issues. This point also applies to his drugging of Matt to get over his drug addiction, because no? That is not how that works. But having Neil come to terms with parts of his past little by little is very nice to see.

Andrew. As of last post, I didn’t exactly like Andrew. He is a lot, to put it simply. And while I still stand by everything I said against him, I think his trauma in this book should be acknowledged. The assault scene was well handled, Sakavic didn’t over exploit the scene, nor did she paint her characters as anything but what they already are. It is a way better way of handling trauma then what we as readers were given in the first book. I think Andrew deserves an entire post of his own to unpack everything I want to say about him, but so summarize it, while I do not think his past actions are excusable or justified, his behavior can be seen as a product of who he is as a character. I see why so many people are attached to him as a character.

The characters are inherently problematic, they will never not be problematic. There is no justifying some of their actions, there is no excusing it, but so long as that is understood the characters can be understood.

Riko. God, I hate him. I hate him so much. What a terrible character. Knowing what he threatened Andrew with, how he killed Seth, what he did to Kevin, What he’s done to Neil, the way his teammates are treated. Makes him easy to hate. However, he is also a poorly written character, and I wish the book had a less comically evil antagonist. It puts a real dimmer on the whole idea that people are not black and white in their actions. Jean is a better example of a good antagonist, he’s serving himself without being the literal incarnation of human sin, I think he makes a wonderful antagonist and hope to see more from him.

The way she deals with trauma is still mixed, but I think I’ll leave the final verdict on that for my review of book three.

Well. That’s that I suppose. Can’t wait to finish book three and then want to read the whole thing again to see what I missed! This series has grown on me, not enough that I would recommend it to others, the trigger warnings should be taken very seriously, but enough that I am glad to have read it. Overall, a solid 6/10, not perfect but years better than the last. Cheers to book two, and down to the final act! I think that I won’t be disappointed. 

[psalloacappella]

Teach Like Me

It’s time for rare!pair love

Title: Teach Like Me Pairing: NaruIno Other deets: one-sided NaruSaku, canon-verse, Shippuden-ish, mentions of other canon romances, cuteness, slice of life, bicycles

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“Naruto,” she says through gritted teeth, “get your dumb ass on this bike.”

Grimacing, he lobs a response that might just get him killed. “Ew, like with you?”

In which Ino spends an afternoon teaching Naruto new tricks.

Read ao3 | here, or ↓

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Ino likes to think that Naruto, as other young boys her age, pops into her family’s flower shop when she’s off duty to pay her some mind, grace her with a little attention. Not least because they’re friends, but because she’s still a girl, and a cute one at that. He may have soft and stupid eyes for her best friend, but damn it, she’s still going to preen; being run ragged by missions can sometimes make her feel exhausted and charmless, and it’s not always in line with the portrait she’s interested in painting of her lovely self.

When she asks herself why it matters at all, she concludes it’s simply torrid boredom and according to Sakura (and Shikamaru, who agrees without agreeing in that languid and noncommittal way he does) a dash of narcissism.

But every time the village’s hyperactive, thickheaded, Sasuke-chasing, obnoxious ninja shows up to bother her, the result is always that she realizes and has to process as new, as though she’s never had to consider it before, that he’s a complete dunce.

The flowers in the shop whisper to one quietly; amid the bursts of vivid color, whites and reds and periwinkles, colorful themed bouquets reminiscent of abstractions of sunsets and midnight trysts and tentative apologies and condolences, Ino lets her chin fall into her palm. Leans on her elbow and groans at the long day stretched out before her with no sign of interesting respite. Someone in this village needs to bring the drama, drop some dribbles of gossip that they can gnaw on over her counter, for she’s bored and bone-tired and all of her friends are busy or deployed.

Stands in front of her blinking as a confused fish, waiting for her to surface from the reverie.

Realizing he’s there, and close! she jerks back and makes a noise of disgust that only serves to prompt a sassy scrunched face in riposte. With his chin in both hands and elbows on the slippery counter, rear wiggling in the air, he sticks out his tongue. “And I thought you were bored? Your face is no better.”

Ino blinks, a double-take. “Bold words for a guy who cowers from a girl with pink hair.”

“Honestly, you scare me too,” he admits. “But I want her to like me, so that’s the difference.”

“Why are you here? What do you need?”

Naruto blinks, nonplussed. “What would I need?”

Straightening, Ino indicates the botanical menagerie as she opens her arms loftily, an embrace of her surroundings. The eye roll seems to spark an understanding. Shakes his head vigorously.

“Oh, right! Nah, I came to see you. I don’t need flowers, I—”

“Hey!”

A patron pokes his head around the doorframe, grinning. “Sweet bike. Whose is it?”

“Bike?” Ino’s eyebrows knit together while Naruto, having whirled around at the mention of it, grimaces and makes a quiet noise under his breath. Wilting like a dehydrated flower himself. Noticing his behavior, Ino glances at him askance and then clarifies. “As in a bicycle?”

“Yeah.” The stranger hangs on to the door frame as he leans back, sets his eyes on what must be the bicycle, as if to confirm it hasn’t disappeared in the last few seconds, and resumes his previous position. “Looks brand new.”

Naruto sweats profusely, and Ino has the urge to dress him down for being weird in front of a potential customer, but rolls her eyes and remembers some words from Shikamaru about fiery tempers and laying off Naruto a little — his usual dulcet whining. She shrugs, folding her arms. “Doesn’t belong to me, sorry.”

Frowns; but then the villager’s eyes sparkle at the possibilities. “Huh. Maybe someone left it here by mistake. Might go turn it in — but, not without taking it for a spin.” A lopsided grin graces his young face, and he tilts his head toward her, leaning over the threshold. “What do you say, it’s not busy here, pretty miss? Come and take a ride with m—”

Naruto makes an angry sound, some amalgamation of a grunt, snort, and unintelligible syllables that sounds more like the short-circuiting of machinery than anything human. Jarring enough that the other two jump in response, staring. Eyes closed tightly and arms folded, he has the look of someone out in the bright sun, blinded — or perhaps one who needs a solid dose of fiber.

“Why don’t you try that again,” Ino says, rolling her eyes. “Human speech this time.”

Kicking at the floor with the toe of his boot, Naruto says through gritted teeth, “It’s. Mine.” Bright red heat blazes high in his face.

Laughing, Ino leans over the counter and gives him a solid punch in the arm. “Dork. Why didn’t you just say that earlier?” Waving her hand as if fanning away small gnats or wafting dust, she blows at a strand of long blonde hair, lilting like feathers in her vision, and grins. “Sorry about him — he forgets how to interact properly.”

Eyes pinging between the two of them, the patron shrugs in response and lifts a hand in a wordless goodbye and means of departure.

Ino keeps up the princess wave for a few more seconds after he departs, then visibly shifts into an annoyed stance. “What is with you? It’s nice of you to care about strangers hitting on me, but,” and she tosses her hair again in that lovingly preening, vain way she manages to make endearing, “you’re busy after a girl who’s into men that are, decidedly, not your type.” Clicking her tongue, she comes out from behind the counter and without pretense, shoves her face in his face. “So where’d you get the bicycle?”

“It’s new, like that guy said! Heh, heh.” But the way Naruto rubs the back of his neck and can’t quite look her in the eyes means he’s almost certainly in the middle of one of his pranks.

Narrowing her eyes in response, her lips draw a thin line. “Naruto—”

“Okay, so I borrowed it!”

Eyes wide, she punches him again. Hard. Not taking his breath away like a certain teammate of his, but close enough; he’s always all types of sore between training, reckless endeavors related to training, and also perhaps putting himself in harm’s way for the sake of securing even a sliver of that same teammate’s time. The familiarity of it, regardless, paints a blush in his cheeks and feels oddly comforting. At least he knows where he stands.'

“You can’t just borrow things like that; they’ll know it’s missing!”

“Just — let me explain the whole story, Ino. One of the old ladies that I used to do genin missions for, saving her dumb cats all the time — they always ran away from her, and honestly, I would too if I lived with her — she squeezed them half to death, even that bastard would say so—”

Bringing an arm across her eyes, she groans. His perplexing digressions are either a sign of brain damage or tender excitement or both, but always classically Naruto, including the inability to stop thinking about a guy who’s been gone for at least two years and last tried to murder him in a valley. Not that she can judge — he’s still their friend, but it’s hard to process the depression over the gaping hole in their team. “Stay on topic!”

“Anyway,” he emphasizes, raising his palms up in a shrug, “her leg’s broken from tripping over the cats and her nephew or someone got her a bike, and something something she can’t use it, I planned to borrow it—”

“You did borrow it, it’s outside—”

“And realized I can’t . . .”

Naruto’s voice fades into unintelligible syllables for the second time. With hands on her hips and chin lowered as she gives him a pointed look, she shakes her head as if she can capture and funnel the rest of it into her ears. “Well? Can’t what? Speak up!”

Folding his arms tightly in the way of a straightjacket, still red, he says through gritted teeth: “I don’t know how.”

Exasperated and baffled, her laughter cascades without warning as she shakes her head again. Hilarity abounds, though an undercurrent of guilt ripples through her stomach as she again reflects on her own teammates’ suggestions to work on the nice-to-Naruto thing; it strikes her that he grew up without anyone to teach him how to ride.

Well. Now I feel like a jerk.

Naruto’s flush hasn’t abated, and she feels the sudden urge to remedy his sad look; it’s too difficult to exist in the same space with, and goodness knows he’s already been handling a lot of less than stellar incidents in his life. Avoiding his eyes and looking askance, she reaches behind her back and begins to untie her apron.  “Hang this up for me.”

She tosses it at him — it wafts in the air for a second, then drapes itself over his frizzy blonde hair. Yanking it off, his bright ocean eyes are wide and confused. “What?”

“You can’t not know how to ride a bicycle. How will you ever go on a date with a girl that way? Nope, that’s unacceptable.” Clicks her tongue again, tsk tsk. “Luckily for you, I happen to know how and am fantastic at that, so.”

With confidence she walks out the front door of the shop, and he follows. As she locks the door behind her and flips the sign to closed, Naruto smiles to himself, a small and shy thing that disappears almost as quickly; a warm and soft knot nestles somewhere into his chest. Then he frowns in genuine concern.

“Wait, Ino. How are you going to teach me in that?”

Pocketing her keys, she tilts her head. “What does that mean?”

Pointing at her purple skirt, he continues. “You can’t ride in that outfit.”

Sputtering, she straight-arm smacks him in the sternum with an open palm. Over his pouting ow, Ino! she raises her chin with a regal air and says, “Just you watch. And don’t talk to your instructor that way.”

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Little she know it would never be as easy as anticipated, because Naruto wasn’t exactly known for his analysis or even picking a skill up on the first try. Or the second. Or even the hundredth.

“I’m doing it, I’m really doing it!” His exclamation is endearingly excited for someone shaking uncontrollably in the vein of a startled rabbit, desperate for balance. Ino keeps one finger on the handlebar and sighs.

“You’re trying almost too hard,” she says. “This isn’t something you need chakra for or even, really, brains.”

“Hey.”

“I’m only saying,” she presses, “it’s muscle memory and balance. Nothing to do with being a great ninja or hero or whatever you’re trying to do with your life.”

“Shikamaru’s right — you’re pretty sarcastic.”

“I am both pretty and sarcastic, and I also don’t listen to him.” Removing her finger from the handlebar, Naruto’s vibrating becomes more pronounced. Tipping, he yelps and plants his feet in the dust to keep himself upright.

Ino’s brows furrows deeply, a divot appearing in the middle of her forehead. She muses about face wrinkles and the stress from trying to teach the unteachable. After a few moments, exhales with a relenting sigh and elbows him off the bicycle, seating herself on it instead. As if by magic, she starts pedaling in wide circles and dust pings away from the front tire, reminiscent of fish leaping out of the way of an oncoming boat. Naruto watches, frowning.

“You make it look so easy. And there’s no chakra?”

“Not a bit,” she says with a smile. Continues steering the bike in lazy circles, even letting a hand off the handlebar to give him a little regal wave. Braking, she comes to a stop and lowers herself into a straddle, folding her arms across the front. “I’m going to hate myself for this, but come on, you need to get on the bicycle. Let’s go.”

Neither of them move, Naruto watching her expectantly in anticipation of more instructions. After an awkward beat, she motions impatiently for him to come closer.

“Naruto,” she says through gritted teeth, “get your dumb ass on this bike.”

Grimacing, he lobs a response that might just get him killed. “Ew, like with you?”

Ino wishes she was on a mission in which she could release her rage on invading some enemy minds; it may spare her from her inevitable sentence in the local prison when she leaves Naruto’s entrails smeared on the Hokage mountain and in front of the hospital. Sakura wouldn’t even get a piece of him to throttle by that point.

Her face steaming, chest heaving, and ocean eyes wide, Naruto’s even less inclined to join Ino on the bicycle, but makes his first intelligent choice of the day. “Fine! But I want to be in front; I can’t be seen holding onto a girl.”

Ah, well, almost.

“You really sound like Shikamaru. Unreal. That tough guy ship sailed a long time ago.” Still, she scoots back on the seat and obliges, Naruto grumbling as he clambers back onto the bike, wobbling like a newborn fawn with brand new legs. For a moment, she’s unsure of where to put her hands; capitulates to her inner revulsion and places them stiffly on his shoulders.

Though it’s not as bad as she expects; the world doesn’t end and she doesn’t fall in love with the so-called hero and he’s absolutely not my type and he manages to get the bicycle moving, albeit wavering and managing to clip the nearest tree trunk with a yelp and a curse.

Time for bossing and instructing, her favorite. “Gather some speed, it will make this easier. And don’t be so stiff — be one with the bike, or something.”

Fairly sure some of those grumbling, childish curses are directed at her, but she prefers to keep her eyes on the road as they head toward a larger street that pipes through the heart of the village, where there are market stalls and children running through adult’s legs without a care and many more obstacles that could easily impede his progress.

Eyes alighting on someone familiar, she squints. Neji Hyuuga. Of course she’s about to pass the incredibly handsome tortured genius, though of course, he's been distinctly more lucid after he’s had some sense beaten into him by Naruto those few years ago. Of course she’s about to pass him clinging to the resident village dork as she teaches him to do something that almost everyone else knows how to do. Her fucking luck.

Of course Naruto manages to hit an uneven spot in the dirt and jerk the bicycle around as the handlebar slips a bit out of his control, and she lunges forward against his back to straighten it to preserve the beauty and sanctity of her marriageable face —  after all she only has one of them.

As far as her dignity, however, that feels long gone with her other arm wrapped around Naruto’s torso and the Hyuuga tilting his head and staring at them in bemusement.

The wave she attempts as she passes him feels like some last-ditch effort at controlling a narrative that will surely be on the tongues of everyone before sun sets; not because of him, but due to his annoyingly and increasingly familiar bond with Tenten, who will definitely tell everyone, especially all of the other girls. Which means Sakura will know. Ino makes a mental note to get to her first or it will be the single most embarrassing thing in her life thus far.

As they fly past, Naruto shouting out a greeting to Neji that’s lost in the sound of the prissy chime of the bicycle’s bell, Ino’s face is the color of a daring evening-only-shade of lipstick, and the heat, she hopes, melts the stupid ugly orange outfit to tatters.

“Hey, I’m doing better! It’s easier when you go faster, you were totally right, Ino.”

Hiding her face in the comfortable span of his shoulders, I mean, at least he gained some muscle while he was away 3 years, her flat “Yay” comes out muffled.

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Ino reflects that she’ll never do favors for Naruto again, even if he is improving as the day goes on, because she’s managed to pass every attractive man she’s ever wanted to look her way, and even those she doesn’t know but could, conceivably, and here she is clinging to back of a stolen bicycle with the most obnoxious person in the village. These are going to be the gossipy stories of legend.

Still, he’s not as slow of a learner as she expects, partly because he persists at things with the tenacity and thickheadedness of a bull. And obviously, because she’s a fantastic instructor.

“Try not to hit bumps in the road — remember, we have to return this.”

“I got it!”

“Also please don’t hit another cat—”

“Look, I didn’t even see the cat coming, it was a total accident and I said sorry—”

“Yes, I’m sure it heard you while it was screeching.”

He grumbles in response.

“Eyes on the road! Remember — one with the bike. And if we fall and you smash up this face, yours will look worse when I’m through with you.”

“How come,” Naruto pants, exerting effort up the hill, “every one of my teachers is so demanding? Kaka-sensei, Pervy Sage, you—”

“It’s the role of a teacher,” she says at his shoulder. Chin resting on it, she’s inches away from his face. With her arm tightly gripping his stomach (depressing and empty - they skipped lunch for the cause) and parts of her pressing against his back do not go there do not go there, he feels vindicated in his bicycle pilfering and also ready to whisk some young lady away on the handlebars. Once he has the other one off it, although it’s not nearly as gross and uncomfortable as he previously assumed.

And once he’s conquered the tallest hill in the village, obviously.

Fuzzy from the heat and the edges of her vision shimmering, Ino lets her eyes fall closed. This isn’t the worst.

Too bad he’s absolutely sopping and sweating from the effort of pedaling. Something perks her up, piques her brain.

“Naruto,” she asks, “where are we going?”

Her question is answered as he triumphantly crests the hill and they both stare down at the long and winding road that leads through quite dense and lively parts of their village. A serpentine road stretching straight from the peak and disappearing amidst colorful rooftops and tented awnings and possibly the lanterns and streamers of a small festival.

Naruto cheers and lifts his hands from the bars and feet from the ground. Immediately they start tipping to the side until he plants his feet again, regaining control.

“No. No, no no.” Ino smacks him again with an open palm in the sternum, hissing, “What did I say about my face?”

“Then you can get off, but this is the biggest hill in the village and the last thing I have to conquer.”

“Conquer? This isn’t a mission, you’re being such a — such a boy right now!”

“Unless you’re scared?”

When did Naruto get the guts to tease back? Heat unfurls in the high points of her cheeks, eyes narrowing angrily. Puffing up like an angry animal, she has the urge to scream in his ear. The nerve! She’s been trying to get him a date, she’s doing this for him, not making a competition.

“I taught you. If you do this badly, I’ll lose face. And if we die, I’ll have Sakura bring you back to life like a river fish and kill you again.”

Tightening her arms around his torso, eliciting an uncomfortable shifting from him, she whispers, “So you’d better pass the test.”

If he was older, a little wiser, a tad more fluent in the language of women, he might have indulged a moment to feel how close she is to him, the murmur in his ear that sends chills tapdancing along his spine and a strange fluttering in his gut. Heat dashes across the back of his neck, bright red, and she interprets his reactions as fear; most certainly they are in part, though the strange sensations in him, low, so low, and the giddiness at the prospect of reckless bravado — all of it seems like an easy choice.

“Hang on!”

Suspended at the top for a moment, they both feel the flipping of their inner organs as they balance at the hill’s precipice. When Naruto kicks off and Ino clings on tightly, they scream much earlier into the descent than either had personally planned.

Those screams warn others as they gather speed.

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Chouji and Asuma step out of a cafe, blinking in the sinking evening sunlight.

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t seen them all day,” he says, speaking over his shoulder to his sensei. “Shikamaru’s acting as ambassador, remember, so he’s been with that Temari of the sand girl a lot lately.”

Chuckling, Asuma grins around the cigarette he’s popped into his mouth. “How sweet.”

“You’re one to talk,” Chouji responds. Grins with a snarky expression, laden with implications.

A loud sound approaches, high in pitch and growing in intensity.

Continuing, oblivious of the sound, Chouji continues. “You and Kurenai-sensei, and I mean.”

“All right, all right,” Asuma says, intent on shutting the line of discussion down.

The sound hits an ear-shattering apex and then just as quickly disappears. The only notion that something had passed was the ruffling of their clothes and hair.

“What was that?”

They shrug at one another, though the jounin has an instinct, a guess.

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In a bustling street, stall and streamer-laden, Shikamaru and Temari wander among them and maintain a professional, appropriate distance between them. Inquiries of the nature of their time together has been a hot topic lately, a spark in the bored, droning discussions of village operations. Even men and women of responsibility seek gossip.

Temari’s ears perk at the sound of an approaching wail — or a scream, an intermingling of them, searing through the calm evening and also managing to produce an effect similar to instruments. Alternating beats, cacophonous.

“I hope that’s not an attack,” Shikamaru drawls. “I’m off-duty.”

Temari gives him a stern look.

“I’m entirely serious.”

“I always err on the side of lazy with you.”

As it intensifies and comes closer, Temari steps in front of Shikamaru and places her body between him and the street. He sighs. Other heads start to turn, people standing on tiptoe to gaze up at the hill that winds down into the low streets of the village.

“I can’t let you do that. So embarrassing.”

A flash of blue and blonde, orange and purple, and the sound of a crate of fruit upending. Syncopated dull sounds as watermelons hit the ground and the tear of shorn streamers —

Shikamaru looks after the commotion, the hurricane that just ran through —

at a long and wild parachute of shiny blonde hair.

In its wake, no one seems to know exactly what it was. Shikamaru lets out another dismal sigh, longer this time.

Temari blinks. “Wasn’t that your teammate? And—”

“Yes.”

“. . . Well? Aren’t you wondering?”

Nudging a watermelon out of the way with his foot, he clears her path so they can continue down the street.

“I’m sure I’ll hear about it later.”

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They lie flat on their backs on the ground of an open training area, in the dust. Breathing hard as if they’ve been running for miles, unable to speak. Every time they try, there’s nothing left except fierce outbursts of giggles and the insurmountable actions of trying and failing to stand.

Finally Naruto succeeds:  “I did it!”

Wiggling in the dirt like an insect, he punches a fist in the air above him with a cheer. Ino attempts to run fingers through her hair and winces at the knots, tangled like the makeshift nests of birds. It’s not coming out without help.

“Congratulations. Now help me up.”

Naruto bounds to his feet on a second energetic wind and holds out a hand to bring her to her feet. He eyes her hair warily, keeping distance between them.

“Yeesh.”

“Be quiet.”

“Well, um,” he starts, clearing his throat. Rubbing the back of his neck and keeping his eyes from hers, he settles on the ground, at his shoes. “Thanks a lot. For all your help. You spent the whole day with me.”

Still with her fingers in her hair, she raises and lowers her shoulders. “It was nothing.”

“It was, though. It was fun! And you can teach, kind of.”

Despite herself, she smiles with white, bright teeth and reflects that he’s not quite such an idiot after all.

“Now you know what you need to do, right?”

“Right!” Naruto runs to the bicycle, previously left on the ground on its side, and prepares to mount it. Slaps the seat. “See if a girl will want to take a ride.”

Ino lowers her chin, an impatient tuh! falling from her lips. “You have to take it back to the owner. You want Sakura to find out?”

Shivering, Naruto reconsiders his quest for love and wilts. “You’re right. Kaka-sensei probably wouldn’t like it either. And if Sakura-chan finds out, she’ll turn me into a bike.”

“Exactly.”

“So . . . I feel like I should return the favor. You know, for teaching me.”

“That’s nice of you. Maybe you’re not that hopeless with girls.”

“Ramen?”

“I take that back.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t know what to say most of the time.”

Grinning, she pats him with a gentle hand on the cheek. “I have just the thing for you, Naruto.”

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Ino vaguely recognizes the man from a couple days ago, when he proposed to take her on a bicycle ride. It’s possible he does in kind, smirking as he crosses the threshold.

“Hello again, pretty miss.”

“Hello again, and welcome.”

Glancing to the back of the shop, he observes the blonde in the back watering flowers, but doesn’t say a word. Said person is extraordinarily quiet in comparison to last time, concentrating on his tasks.

“So,” she says briskly, “what are you hoping to find today?”

“Well, there’s this girl. I had to take my brother to the hospital and his nurse was, oof, let me tell ya.” Conspiratorially, he leans on the counter as if expecting Ino to be impressed, or ignorant. Refraining from rolling her eyes, she smiles to herself at the joy this is likely about to bring. She has an inkling.

“Biggest, beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen. Of course,” he adds, winking, “not as striking as yours.”

“Sure,” Ino responds. She has a way with the tones of scathing disinterest. The sound of plants being watered stops.

“And pink hair, super exotic looking, you know. I was chatting her up while she was working on my brother—”

Ino snorts at the prospect of Sakura chatting up this man while on duty, especially one so decidedly not her type. She’s not sure if she’s irritated at him trying to compare the two, or defensive.

“— and I’m about to go right back to that hospital and ask her out.”

Oh, Ino thinks, he’s so dumb.

The patron looks to the right and startles; Naruto is standing there, fists clenched and face red in his elegant shop apron, fingers still around the watering can.

“Can I help you?” the man asks.

Without any preamble, Naruto just says, “You’re an idiot.”

“This isn’t your business, I’m speaking to this lovely girl here—”

“Sakura-chan won’t date you, because she already loves someone. A better guy than you. And if you’re trying to make Ino like you, you’re even dumber than you look. What girl wants to hear you compare her to another girl?”

Ino stifles a snort, manages to pass it off as clearing her throat. A bit of pink shows up in the man’s cheeks, and he pulls himself up to full height in an attempt to intimidate.

“Look, I don’t know who you’re even talking about, all these names. I didn’t ask.”

“And I’m Naruto Uzumaki. So now you know.”

“Listen,” he says, beseeching Ino with his admittedly attractive face. Struggling not to laugh, Ino’s lips stretch thin. “I’m just—”

“Honestly,” she says, shaking her head a little, “you’re welcome to make whatever purchase you want, though you may be surprised at the outcome.”

Naruto folds his arms, seething and hovering in the way of a protective dog, as the man finishes his courting purchase and leaves. As the bell tings upon his departure, they both look at each other and find it difficult to hold in their laughter.

“What an idiot,” Naruto repeats.

“He’s poor on charm, that’s for sure.”

Naruto avoids her eyes, kicks at the floor with his toe again; it makes him look like a child caught by his mother doing something wrong. Swallowing hard, he says, “And what he said to you too was stupid. No girl wants to hear that.”

Flashing a grin, incandescent, Ino hopes the smile covers up her slight embarrassment. “Aww, are you concerned he hurt my feelings? That’s mature of you.”

“W-whatever.” Whirling around, she sees the back of his neck, bright red. “You know how nice you look.”

“O-ho , I look nice, yes, pretty too. Naruto, you will be a womanizer yet.”

He doesn’t answer, just pouts as he straightens his apron with dignity and goes back to his tasks.

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.

When a few days later, Sakura, Ino, Naruto, and Shikamaru all sit around a table in an alley-hidden izakaya and the medic laments about a pushy brother of a patient trying to take her on a date, Naruto and Ino start cracking up over the dregs of their drinks and the remains of snacks long-eaten.

When Shikamaru asks if Naruto returned the bicycle to its rightful owner and gives Ino a significant look, following up with an inquiry if he really knows how to ride it now, their earlier laughs give way to sputtering and blushing. It might be the drinks or the heat, but Shikamaru seems to be saying more than he’s saying, and it might be Ino’s imagination, but she visualizes smacking the small grin right off his face.

Sakura and Shikamaru exchange a grin, brainy and self-satisfied.

Ino reflects that perhaps, she could find another skill Naruto fails to excel in and teach him that too, if only to continue to blackmail him into doing the tedious watering and tasks in her shop. He enjoys it, after all.

And frankly, he’s not bad company. Not one bit.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Neighbourly

Summary: With a drip in your roof, you weren’t going to get any sleep if you stayed in your apartment. It was a good thing you had Jae as a neighbour who owed you a favour.

Pairing: Jae Park x reader

Genre: neighbours to lovers / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: So I have a drip in my roof and we’ve had a lot of rain lately. It means I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep as I suffer from misophonia, and this idea stems from waking up exhausted one morning after some heavy rain. Thankfully, I think I’ve solved my issue, now Y/N just needs to solve hers XD

Also, just want to thank @noona-clock because without B’s guidance over this, you probably wouldn’t be getting a DAY6 story today. Xxx

Word count: 3525

You convinced yourself everything was fine. Rolling onto your side, you composed yourself and asked for your slumber to come forth and take you into a peaceful dimension.

Instead, you heard it again.

Letting out a huff of air, you swapped to your other side more vigorously, trying to suppress the somewhat desperate expression now residing on your face.

You would sleep. You would get so much sleep that you were certain you would wake tomorrow fully rested.

It happened again, this time louder than before.

Who were you kidding; there would be no sleep within this predicament.

Sitting up, disgruntled, you glared up at your bedroom ceiling to the spot that seemed to be causing all the ruckus. With heavy rain falling endlessly from the heavens, of course, the roof in your apartment was leaking somewhere with the overflow. Although you didn’t have an actual leak yet, you could tell something was definitely dripping up in the ceiling. You had contacted your landlord earlier in the evening and he had promised someone would come over to clear out the gutters and look into the problem first thing on Monday morning. Given it was Friday night though, and rain was forecasted for the next day as well, you were already at the end of your tether.

You cursed your innate ‘gift’ to hear everything that happened around you.

Staring at the ceiling still, you wondered what you could do. The first thought you had was to shift out to your living room. Over the next ten minutes, you lugged your mattress off your bed and out into the small living space, knowing your tiny sofa just wouldn’t cut it. Once settled back on your bedding, you smiled forcibly and nodded to yourself slowly.

“Let’s get some sleep now,” you instructed your body and mind, closing your eyes and placing your hands over your waist lightly. A posture of peace and tranquillity. You would be slumbering in no time.

You could still hear the drip from out here.

You were laughing now at the ridiculous state of your frazzled mind. It was already closing in on midnight and you would be lucky if you caught the bare minimum of needed rest to function tomorrow. You would have to cancel brunch with your friends in order to return to a decent human after all of this.

But what could you do in the interim?

Glancing around your darkened apartment, you groaned heavily. The rain was too much to travel out in this late at night, and you thought that the constant lashing on the roof above would ease your mind from hearing the dripping pipe within the ceiling. Of course, being someone highly sensitive to sounds meant even if you didn’t want to, your brain was one step ahead of you and focusing solely on the dripping. Exclaiming how clever it was to decipher such a sound with the din outside.

For the umpteenth time in your life, you cursed how easy it was for you to process sounds faster and more precisely than others.

For the next hour, you played games on your phone since you were now wide awake. You caught up on Instagram stories and read a couple of updated fan-fictions. After that, you brewed one of your favourite teas, hoping with the calm aroma, your over-stimulated mind would fall asleep, dripping sound or not.

You were in front of your door twenty minutes later, contemplating an offer your neighbour had once given you.

“If you ever need anything, just knock on my door, Y/N. You’ve helped me out by letting me stay here this week; I’ll gladly return the favour at any time.”

His words played over in your mind as you stood there wrapped up in your blanket, hand half-raised for your front door handle. Jae’s apartment was across the hall from yours and would use a different gutter system than the one attached to yours. You were certain his home would be free from the incessant dripping right now and that was rather appealing.

But was it acceptable to knock on Jae’s door at this time? Surely this hour was out of the jurisdiction of being a friendly neighbour, right? You knew if Jae knocked on your door right now, he wouldn’t unless it was important. And you would no doubt be all too accommodating.

This was kind of important, and so you believed you should at least try.

Steeling yourself for the impending interaction, you placed a smile onto your lips, only to remove it. You needed to look as desperate as you felt. With this thought at the forefront of your mind, you stepped out of your door and over to his, knocking three times on it.

Your usual amount of knocks, of course.

Waiting for a minute, nothing seemed to happen. Resigned, you heaved your blanketing around for the dejected trek back into the dripping symphony within your roof.

“Y/N?” a voice called out sleepily and you whipped around, unbalanced within your blanket burrito. Jae’s eyes flashed open as he reached out to steady you, blinking slowly when you were stable again. “What are you… and like this… is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry for waking you,” you started, widening your eyes in what you hoped would show just how distraught you were.

Because you were beyond all rationale now.

“My roof has a leak and I’ve tried to sleep but it just won’t stop dripping and-”

Jae swung his door open wider, padding back inside. You wondered if he was about to shut the door over your ridiculous predicament, yet it remained open and you waited to see what would happen next. He reappeared, scratching at the back of his head in confusion. “Are you coming in?”

“Oh, that was you inviting me in, right,” you babbled and waddled into his home with your array of blanket ends dragging on the ground. Stepping into his small living area, you eyed the sofa in relief. “Thank you, I’ll just take the sofa and-”

“You nursed me for an entire week when I was so sick and my heating went out, do you really think I’m going to let you crash on my sofa?!”

You blushed at his memory and shrugged lightly. “I’m not fussed, honestly.”

“I am, you look like you’re about to strangle something if you don’t get any sleep. I’ll take the sofa, and you can have my bed.”

“Are you sure?”

Jae nodded firmly, prodding you and all of your blanket into his room. Taking his top blanket off the bed, he then gestured for you to lay down, wishing you a restful sleep and closed the door.

You thought it would take some time to fall asleep. After all, you had been so wired up until this point. However, as soon as you were comfortably arranged under your blanket, sleep finally reached out for you and took you off into a deep dream state.

So deep, that you didn’t feel the bed dip when Jae climbed onto it in his own sleepy stupor, nor were you bothered when you rolled into him and felt the warmth of lying next to another person. In fact, you relished in it, burying in deeper and sleeping soundly until the light of the morning infiltrated the room and you had finally gained sufficient hours of sleep.

And then you became aware.

How, when a single dripping sound had almost driven you to a complete meltdown, had you not woken up to Jae climbing into bed with you?! Why was he here anyway? Was the sofa too cold? Did something happen? Your mind raced with multiple scenarios and the longer you contemplated them, the further you became aware of other things around you. Like the arm Jae had slung over your waist loosely and how you hadn’t yet moved it away.

Glancing down at his limb, you chewed on your bottom lip thoughtfully. Should you disturb him? After all, it was a little inappropriate even if you were friendly, to be sleeping this intimately with your neighbour. Yet, you hadn’t been held like this in some time, and a large part of you was kind of enjoying it. Jae’s warmth comforted you and his even breathing made you smile.

No, you couldn’t wake him up.

But what about breakfast? You were hungry by now and it wouldn’t be long until your stomach started to be vocal about it. You didn’t need the embarrassment of not only waking Jae up overnight but expecting breakfast as well.

You were a woman of standards! If anything, it would make sense for you to get up now, head home and make a delicious thank you breakfast and then bring a portion over for Jae. Could you simply look within his refrigerator instead and cook here? Jae would need to eat breakfast. You could just save the trip home and cook for him here.

For the two of you.

You blushed at the thought of doing something like that here.

You were neighbours though, and neighbours this close could make food for one another and not be offended. Or misconstrue sentiments like arms over waists and being in the same bed together.

Right?

It was already too late for logic, your body temperature clearly indicated how affected you were with Jae’s arm over you.

Now was the time to leave. To escape this heady experience where you fell in love with Jae over a drip in the roof and a fumbled, poorly constructed excuse from him about why he was sleeping beside you in the first place.

Life wasn’t a fairytale and you had slept all too well within Jae’s bed because you needed a cold dose of reality to put you in check.

Move, you willed yourself, and you shifted agonisingly slow from Jae’s slumbering side, gently lifting his arm off of you in the process. Before you were fully out from under him, Jae moved, curling the arm you had almost succeeded in escaping back around you and pulling you toward his warm body.

You held your breath, eyes wide when, “Don’t go yet,” tumbled from his lips.

“But I need to.”

“Why?” he mumbled, tightening his arm over you. He let out a deep breath, inhaling you in as he settled back into your side. “Whyyy?”

God, was he always this cute when half-asleep? You thought back to the time when you had looked after him. Jae had definitely been an adorable, albeit whiny patient. He would try to damper down his demands, yet you had fussed over him, making it easy for you to succumb to his whims. During that week, you had gotten to know him pretty well, and one thing that you remembered was his little mumbles whenever he was half-asleep. You had little conversations with him during those moments until he fell asleep, smiling the whole time at his little pouts and whines.

Right now though, he wasn’t sick and you needed to stop smiling.

“I have to go home.”

“No, stay.”

“But I’m hungry,” you continued and he sighed again.

“So eat with me.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed and you couldn’t help but let the small smile itching to cross your lips spread out. Jae nuzzled in again, content with your lack of a response. “Just ten more minutes.”

It didn’t make it to that time before Jae finally became alert. His grip around you loosened off and his posture changed. You realised the dream had come to an end and sat up quickly.

“I’m sorry,” you mentioned, smoothing down your bed hair. “I should have pushed you off. You’re surprised, right? I was too when I found you in here instead of on the sofa but-”

“I must’ve come in here after going to the bathroom,” he explained, though he was smiling.

You nodded all too quickly, reaching out for your blanket to pull off and go home. Back to the dripping and the clarity that would come within your own space.

Jae grabbed on, preventing your hasty escape. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Thank you for letting me stay over.”

“You are,” he commented, chuckling to himself.

It irked you. “Well, it’s not every morning that I expect to wake up in your arms, Jae.”

“You’re right, it’s not.”

“It was just a thing that happened since we were both sleepy and now that we’re…” you trailed off when he tilted his head to the side, his expression still bemused. You stared back at him until he nudged you.

“And now that we’re…?” he prompted, causing you to blink rapidly. He chuckled again. “If I knew you were this cute to wake up to every morning, I would do it more often.”

Excuse me?

You took in his expression properly, noticing behind the amusement, Jae actually looked like he was enjoying this. Not the teasing, well, he was having his fun. But holding you had meant something more than coincidence. You weren’t some other girl he was dreaming of whilst he held you.

It dawned on you that when he was talking to you before, when he stopped you from leaving; it was because he knew it was you.

And he didn’t want it to end either.

Jae got up as you sat there reeling from your discovery, leaving you sitting in his bed as he departed the room. Only to stick his head around the threshold a moment later. “Didn’t you say you were hungry?”

Leaping out from the bed, you ensured your pyjamas were straight before you stepped into the living room, now finding Jae in the kitchen preparing a simple breakfast. You silently joined him and soon you were both seated at his small table to eat. You had just taken a bite of your toast when Jae spoke again.

“Did you contact your landlord?”

You nodded, swallowing down your food before replying. “He said someone would come out Monday morning.”

“Where’s the drip?”

“Bedroom ceiling.”

Jae nodded softly, contemplating. He looked up at you and smiled. “You can stay here until it’s fixed.”

“Oh, no I couldn’t do that, I’ll just go home to my parents for the weekend,” you hurried to say and Jae shook his head.

“Why, you slept fine here last night. Don’t they live like an hour away?”

You didn’t want to inform him of just how well you had slept. You were convinced it was driven from pure exhaustion and not because he somehow wound up at your side during the night.

You wouldn’t let yourself believe in it being any other reason, for the remaining sanity you held onto.

“I can’t expect you to give up your bed for another night,” you told him and Jae chuckled.

“Two nights, and you gave up a whole lot more for me when I was sick.”

“You needed my help back then.”

“And now you need mine,” he pointed out, staring back at you.

You realised he wasn’t going to let up and decided to be straight-forward with him. “I don’t think it’s wise for me to stay again. It’s not that I don’t want to, I appreciate your offer-”

“But?” he interjected and you tried to smile.

“I don’t want to draw conclusions in the wrong way.”

“Like what?” He now leaned his head on a hand, the ghost of a smile licking at the corners of his lips. Was he really fighting back the urge to laugh right now?

Blushing, you glanced away. “It was nice, this morning was. But it can’t happen again.”

“Why not?”

Your head snapped back in his direction and he was smiling now. It was charming and you soaked it in like the love fool you were becoming. Blinking slowly, you then shook off the effect and squared your shoulders. “We’re neighbours.”

“That we are.”

“It would be inappropriate if something happened again.”

“Like me holding you?”

“Must you be so blatant about it?!” you hissed and he finally laughed, nodding once.

“I need to since you’re so blind to my advances otherwise,” Jae announced, folding his arms over his chest. He smirked before continuing. “If you don’t want to, it’s fine. I won’t pressure you into staying again even if it is the most convenient. And whilst it was an honest sleep-driven mistake that I came back to my bedroom overnight, I’m not ashamed of my actions. You clearly were comfortable with it, heck I think you even liked it more than you’re letting on.”

Your cheeks flamed with obvious colour.

“I just want you to know, it’s fine by me. Us being just neighbours. Or neighbours that share the bed when in a predicament.”

“Or?” you continued, sensing the rest of his sentence that remained on the tip of his tongue. Jae studied you for a moment longer before he answered.

“Or we could be more than just neighbours and admit there’s something between us. At least, I think so.”

You couldn’t deny it; you had had a soft spot for Jae since he had been ill. But was that just it? Fellow comradeship that helped you get through the daily grind? No, you knew there was more to it. You wouldn’t just allow someone else to hold you like Jae had. And even if it had made you anxious initially, he was right.

You had liked it, a whole lot.

“I mean, even if you accept option number three, I can totally sleep on the sofa again tonight.”

“What, so you can stumble in during the night like you did?” you teased and Jae gaped at you dramatically.

“I’ll have you know I can be a gentleman. In fact, I didn’t cross the line even if I did end up climbing into bed with you.”

He had a point. And honestly, the longer you discussed it, the more at ease you were becoming.

It was also kind of giddying to know he liked you more than just a friend, and you were definitely fuelled on by this.

Besides, you were a grown adult. You could share a bed with Jae without doing anything crazy. And even if you did, well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, right?

You decided with how fast your heart started to thump in your chest that keeping things simple for now would be better. You needed a place to stay and Jae was offering you one.

And if it came with his warmth and arm over your body free of service, well, who were you to complain?

Smiling, you nodded. “I’ll stay, thank you.”

“Any stipulations?” he asked, grinning genuinely. It made you mirror his reaction, shaking your head a moment later. Jae leaned closer. “You’re sure about that?”

“Well, you’re right, there is no rush. But if you’re going to just end up coming back into your bed by habit in the middle of the night, you might as well just start out there. Besides, it’s your home, and I’m your guest. I am happy to go with whatever works best.”

“How does a pre-ritual before bed sound then?” he wondered and you frowned at his suggestion. Jae laughed at your reaction and pointed to the sofa he had slept on last night. “We could start there together. Watch a movie or two, eat popcorn, and just enjoy a rainy night in. And then when it comes to bedtime, we can decide what we’re comfortable with then.”

You relaxed, nodding in agreement. Eying the dismal world outside his apartment window, you then turned back to Jae. “What are you doing today?”

“Nothing much with all this rain, why?”

“Should we start the ritual now? Today’s the perfect day for a movie marathon.”

“Is this when I find out whether our tastes in cinematic replay match or not?”

You giggled. “It’s an important thing to discover!”

“You’re on.”

“I’ll just go home and get changed and then come back with supplies. Can’t have it be just only your movies that we watch.”

Jae agreed heartily and with breakfast now finished, you got up, heading to the door of his apartment. He followed you, and you turned to smile at him before reaching for the handle. Just as you were about to open it, he took a hold of your hand, drawing your attention back to him. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

He hesitated before smiling at you. “You’re beautiful when you first wake up in the morning.”

Not knowing what to say, you tried not to smile too wide or blush too much, gave his hand a squeeze before you stepped out and over to your own apartment. Taking a moment to regulate your breathing, you bit your lip to suppress the squeal that rose up in your throat, in case Jae was still by his door and heard you. Pushing away from your door, you went into your bedroom, glancing up at the affected area. You listened for the sound of the drip and when you heard it, your smile grew.

You had a lot to thank the rain for.

_________________

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[mediabasedlife]

Initial Impressions 07: West of Dead [Xbox One Beta]

     I've been playing numerous games in recent months, but this one is something special. In short, I am head over heels with the newly released beta for UpstreamArcade's West of Dead. For those unfamiliar, as many may be; West of Dead is an in-development Twin Stick Shooter set in 1888, in a wild west themed purgatory somewhere in Wyoming. Players take the role of William Mason, a skeletal bounty hunter/gunslinger who bears a distinct resemblance to a certain Marvel Comics hero, voiced by film and voice star Ron Pearlman. The demo is a brief but wholly satisfying vertical slice, a perfect introduction to what the game will eventually become upon release.

     You awaken inside a dusty, shadowy saloon, a lone barkeep polishing a glass at the counter. The saloon is small, simple, but immediately sets the tone for the rest of the beta. Players get to soak up the exquisitely crafted visuals that Purgatory has to offer in a safe, combat-free location. Pitch black shadows clash with a smattering of candles and lanterns, the shifting colors creating a satisfying contrast while also highlighting the aforementioned barkeep. Choosing to speak to him nets players a helping of expository dialogue, before you're sent on your way. Proceeding out of the saloon, William comes to a short hall, just as shadowed as the bar. A flickering lamp hangs from the ceiling, ready to be ignited, ready to reveal the true price of this room; the first two guns William can procure. The weapons you find here are very much random; there could be a simple revolver holding four bullets, a decrepit but powerful flintlock, an old but sturdy shotgun, or a decrepit musket. While there may be more in the full release, these are the four firearms I've come across in all the beta runs I've completed, at least initially. Once you acquire your weapons, it's out the door and onwards into Purgatory.

     The beta only holds one floor, but each run will net you a different layout thanks to the procedurally generated nature of the game as a whole. One run could be entirely linear, seeing William run from room to room, gunning down souls until he reaches the end. Other times, you might find branching paths, with one leading to more enemies while the other leads to a cache of currency. While there's no shop in the beta, players still harvest two types of material from defeated enemies and wayward crates; Iron and Souls. How these will be implemented remains to be seen, but my bet's on an Enter the Gungeon style shop system, perhaps adding new weapons or new features to future runs through Purgatory. On the subject of new weapons, players have a chance to find several powerful tools as they progress through the deary yet charming halls, ranging from stronger firearms to sticks of dynamite or a sturdy hand axe. These tools, or William himself, can be further enhanced by randomly spawning upgrade points, which take the form of glowing green totems tucked away in the corners of rooms. While few and far between, interacting with these can net William better gun damage, faster item reloads, or extra health, all of which are quite handy to have despite the brevity of any one run.

     Gameplay-wise, West of Dead handles like a dream. The controls are light and snappy with fluid movement and an easy to learn gameplay loop that does not fail to impress. Paired with the competent and well-orchestrated gunplay, William has a certain mobility about him. While the enemies are middling in their movement speed, William is just fast enough to outmaneuver them, but not so fast as to run laps around his competition. Coupled with his normal walk cycle, William comes equipped with an extremely satisfying dodge mechanic. When executed normally, William will do an omnidirectional roll, allowing you to flee a tricky situation or dodge incoming fire. When executed near cover, William will slide towards whichever barrier is closest, ducking into cover and staying low until you return a volley of your own. The dodge can also be used to slide over cover, allowing for quick escapes should your cover be in danger of collapse. Executing a dodge well enough can trigger a brief slowdown, a pseudo bullet time that allows the player to make efficient followup shots or better maneuver into a new point of cover.

     Each gun you pick up has a slightly different feel; the shotguns have very short range but are quite lethal, pistols are built to be sturdy and suitable for all encounters, while the musket seems designed to stun enemies and leave them open for a quick, close-range kill. Rather than have limited ammunition, each gun operates with infinite ammo, but a strict reload timer. For example, the starter revolver holds four shots and fires fairly quickly but takes 1.5 seconds to regenerate its bullets. The shotgun, on the other hand, can hold one or two shots but takes two seconds to reload. Dodging or firing pauses this reload timer, forcing players to be economic and mindful in their positioning and availability of ammunition without the need to scrounge for more bullets yourself. To offset this inconvenience, William can carry two firearms at once, plus two extra utility items like the aforementioned dynamite and axe. On controllers, you use one trigger per gun, and one bumper per utility item.

     Enemies are not just vulnerable to weaponry, however. Should all else fail, closing the gap between yourself and the enemy has a chance to instead result in a melee, a sturdy kick that breaks an enemy's defense and leaves them stunned, during which another kick will usually put them down as efficiently as a bullet. William's opponents can also be stunned by igniting the lanterns that hang from the ceiling, with the flash of light blinding those trying to attack for a few seconds, usually long enough to pick off one or two enemies before they regain their senses. Players will need to master these mechanics to progress through the mazelike halls, but once they have, William becomes a death-dealing machine, lethal and efficient as he dispatches the damned souls that bar his progression through Purgatory. Should you make it all the way to the end of the beta's lone floor, a tricky but far from impossible boss fight awaits. Here, players will face the powerful and imposing Wendigo. Defeating this beast grants you an in-game trophy; a pair of antlers greet William when he returns to the Saloon, mounted on the wall near the exit to Purgatory's shadowed halls.

     To summarize, I've found my time in West of Dead to be nothing short of charming. It has a beautiful visual style, an expertly crafted soundscape, capped off by a competent and easy to follow gameplay loop that still sports a healthy dose of challenge and intrigue. UpstreamArcade has displayed a certain mastery over this genre with not but a small slice of a game that will likely be so much more than the already stellar sum of this beta's parts. For people who are already fans of twin-stick shooters or roguelikes, this game is absolutely worth your time. For newcomers intrigued by the striking visuals or the unique blend of gothic tones and western themes, this game is still a solid recommendation, though it may take some getting used to before you're completely satisfied. Overall, I'm very excited for West of Dead, and eagerly await the full game's release whenever that may be.

For those interested in checking out the Beta, you have until November 25th, 2019 to download it from the Xbox marketplace, while the full game will release across all consoles and PC sometime in 2020.

[bxcketbarnes]

The Innocent Girl // Part Thirty-Two: The Wrath of Alie // Bellamy Blake

gif is not mine

Words: 4800+ (im so sorry)

Warnings: fluff for sure. some angst as well.

Author’s Note: This is probably one of the quickest I’ve updated in a long while. I’ll probably be called selfish or something, but a certain lot of you that enjoy this, including myself, is the only reason I’m continuing this. I adore this story. I do. I’ve just been having a lot of negative thoughts about this series and comparing it to other’s I’ve read. I’m sorry I made it an OC. I see other writer’s use OC’s and get tons of notes and shit, but this? Nah. Or it sucks, but I’m super thankful to those who like, reblog, and comment that they want more. You’re the ones that really matter to me and keep me going. So thank you. Also, I’m sorry about the length. I didn’t intend for it to be so long, lol. Please enjoy xox AGAIN I’M SORRY IF I SOUND SELFISH I DON’T MEAN TO PLS DON’T HATE ME 

I sit by the fire in the cave we’ve been hiding out in, tapping my foot against the ground repeatedly. Arkadia isn’t safe. What the hell happened? Did grounders get to them? I heard shuffling beside me as Octavia stands up, heading towards her things as she begins to pack them away.

“Octavia-”

“O, wait. You can’t just leave,” Bellamy calls out as he walks up to her.

“Watch me,” she states bluntly.

 I stand up, making my way towards her as well. “Jasper said that Arkadia’s not safe,” I tell her and her head snaps towards me.

“What Jasper said sounds insane,” O mentions as her eyes move from me to her brother. Her gaze moves back towards her stuff. “Pike’s gone. I can handle myself,” there was a small pause before she speaks up once more, “grounders burn their dead.”

“I know that. Then what? Where are you gonna go?” Bellamy asks, his honey brown eyes trained on his sister.

“You don’t get to ask me that,” Octavia growls, glaring at her brother.

I press my lips together, watching the interaction as I feel my heart break for Bellamy. “What more do I have to do to prove that I’m on your side?” He pleads.

“Bring Lincoln back,” she mutters and begins to walk past him. “Turning Pike in does not make you one of the good guys, Bellamy. You did that to save me, save her. Not because what you thought Pike was doing to the grounders was wrong.”

“The grounders were starving us out,” Bell states while turning to face her. I glance towards the rest of the group, seeing the uncomfortable looks on their faces.

“Because you massacred an army that was sent to protect us,” O spits out.

“That army could have attacked us at any time and you know it.”

“But they didn’t attack. You did that,” the younger Blake mutters and continues, “you were hurting and you lashed out because that’s what you do. There are consequences, Bell. People get hurt. People die. Your people. Monroe’s dead. Lincoln is dead.”

Octavia lets out heavy breaths as I watch her take a quick glance at me before making her way out of the cave. I swallow the lump in my throat, knowing that she has a point about everything she just said.

Bellamy follows her and I let out a sigh, quickly following as well. “Bellamy wait,” I call out but he didn’t stop, his footsteps continuing at a quick pace. I stop by Harper and Bryan, watching with a heavy heart as Bellamy follows his sister, feeling the need for her to stay with them so he knows she’s safe.

“They’re here,” Bryan pipes up as the Rover stops a couple of feet in front of us.

My eyes widen as Clarke appears out of the darkness, her eyes looking to each of us before Jasper yells at us. “I need your help. We need to get her inside before she wakes up.” He carries Raven in his arms as a gasp leaves my lips, running towards him to help.

“Were you followed?” Bellamy asks as Jasper pants, stuttering an I don’t know. “Get her here,” he mumbles and Jasper gives the unconscious girl to Bellamy and the two begin to head into the cave.

“Get to the ridge. Radio if you spot anyone following,” Miller orders his boyfriends who just nods his head, “Harper will stay here on watch.” The two boys run deeper into the woods as I make my way into the cave, following Clarke as the blonde looks back towards Octavia who stands still, a look of contemplation on her face.

“Octavia, come on. We need you,” she calls out as we continue into the cave. “Clear some space.”

Sinclair and Monty clear out a space for her and Bellamy set her down carefully as Sinclair asks what the hell happened to her.

“I told you on the radio, Raven is not Raven anymore. None of them are,” Jasper tells us and I raise my eyebrows. Them? Audrey… “Jaha’s been chipping everyone.”

“Jasper’s right. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” Clarke confirms.

Jasper takes a step forward, narrowing his eyes at her. “I don’t need your help, alright?” He practically demands and I take a step towards him, laying a hand on his shoulder. He swipes it off immediately, glaring at me before walking a couple of feet away from me as my chest clenches in pain.

A hand finds a way to my lower back and I look towards my right to see Monty beside me, giving me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing you did. He’s just… broken,” he whispers and I nod my head. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, still.

“Just take it easy and explain,” Bellamy mutters to Jasper as he nods his head.

“Jaha is using the chips to control everyone. You swallow it and it changes you. You forget who you are, and then you see this thing, Alie. Only she’s not really there. She made Raven slit her own wrists. She was trying to get her out of her head,” Jasper explains as he begins to get a little choked up. “I was trying to help her, but-”

“Okay, so let’s help her now,” Sinclair tells him while taking a step towards him. “Did she tell you how?”

“She was working on building something. She needed one of our old wristbands, but Jaha destroyed them all,” Jasper informs us.

Clarke picks her head up. “Wait a second,” she pauses, grabbing something from her coat before taking out a small chip of sorts. “Does it look like this?”

“Not exactly,” Jasper answers and I glance towards Raven to see her eyes wide open, staring at the thing in Clarke’s hand. Bellamy takes a step towards us as Raven lets out a grunt, getting up from the ground.

Jasper moves in her way when she punches him, making her way towards the opening of the cave. “Don’t let her get away!” Clarke yells as we all run after her.

“Hey. I can’t see anything,” Raven yells as Miller, Clarke, and Bellamy grab a hold of the mechanic while she struggles and screams for them to stop. “Let me go!”

“If Raven finds out where we are, so will Alie,” Jasper tells us and Octavia runs up to the girl and sticks the needle into her neck, knocking her ass out. “Reaper stick. Last dose.”

“We have to go,” Clarke suddenly speaks up and Octavia and I glance over at her.

I furrow my eyebrows together. “Where are we gonna go?”

“Why? Alie doesn’t know where we are,” Bellamy states.

“Because I know where we can get a wristband,” the blonde figures out and my eyes widen, suddenly with the plan of leaving.

-

We drive towards what looks to be a trading post and a woman walks out of the building before pulling out a machete. “I’ll go talk to her,” Clarke mumbles.

“I’ll go with you,” Bellamy pipes up and I frown slightly, watching as Octavia opens the back door, her and Bellamy hopping out of the Rover. I look towards Raven as she was lying on the floor of the Rover, still unconscious as I begin to chew my nails.

This is not the best for my heart or my sudden anxiety. I glance back out towards the windshield of the vehicle, seeing Bellamy and Clarke walking towards the woman. Everyone begins to pile out of the vehicle, Sinclair grabbing Raven as I stay put.

“Hurry, she’s waking up! We need to get her inside,” Sinclair yells towards the two.

I jump slightly when I hear Bellamy yelling, looking back out the window to see him pointing his rifle at the girl, telling her to move. She reluctantly moves out of the way as everyone began to pile inside. I slowly move out of the truck, making my way towards the building as I can hear Raven grunting and screaming from all the way out here.

“Where the hell am I? Let me go!” Raven begins screaming and I quickly run towards the back of the building, seeing everyone having trouble holding her down as I press my hands down on her shins. Raven continues to struggle and ends up punching Jasper in the face, again, while Sinclair and Octavia tie down her limbs to the bed.

We manage to tie her down as she continues to yell and we pile out of the room. Clarke goes to talk to a girl she calls Nylah as Bellamy makes his way back towards me.

“You okay?” He asks and I shake my head slightly. I can feel my hands shaking as Raven’s cries are still constant. “Hey, we’ll figure this out.”

Bellamy takes my hands in his and I nod my head, taking deep breaths while he brings me into a hug. Nylah brings out the wristband that we use to wear, giving it to the blonde.

“You guys can work in here,” she mumbles and points towards the room she just came from. Monty, Clarke, Sinclair begin to make their way into the room when I pull away.

“You should go with them. Be one of the good guys,” I whisper to him while looking up at his face. He gives me a small smile, kissing my forehead before following after the three of them.

I move to sit down by the fire, next to Octavia. “Hey,” I mumble quietly, kind of afraid to look at her as I feel her eyes on me. “I, uhm, I know it’s a difficult time for you right now-”

“Please do not tell me you’re about to stand up for Bellamy?” She asks me, anger in her voice.

I glance up at her, her eyes glaring into mine as I shake my head. “No, actually I wasn’t. I get why you’re mad at him. If I was in your position, I’d be furious too. I should be furious in my own shoes, but… I-”

“You love him,” Octavia finishes and I press my lips together while nodding my head. “It’s okay, you know? To love him. I can tell you’ve been a bit touchy towards me because of the situation. I don’t hate you.”

A sigh of relief leaves my lips, glad to hear. “Honestly, you have no idea how much better that makes me feel,” I chuckle, “and just so you know. I was gonna say that I know you’re going through a lot, but know that you can always come to me, okay?”

She nods her head, giving me a soft smile and gives me a quick hug before getting up from the floor, heading into the room that the others were in.

-

“Guys!” Jasper yells and I pick my head up, quickly getting off the floor as everyone including myself run into the room, seeing the mechanic pulling at the rope with her teeth.

“She’s re-opened her wounds,” Clarke states as I grip one of her arms. “We need bandages.”

“I got her,” Bellamy mutters and stands on the opposite side of me.

“No, take her wrist,” the blonde orders him and he complies, his eyes meeting mine. “Raven, stop fighting us!”

She begins to clean her wound as Raven growls at us, Jasper beginning to talk to Alie. “Alie. Alie,” he tries while looking at the mechanic. “Alie! Look at me. I know you can hear this. Why are you doing this to her? Let her go.”

“I’ll let her go,” Raven speaks, her voice distinctively different as my eyes widen, “when you give me what I want.” Her head snaps towards the blonde. “The technology that Clarke carries, it belongs to me.”

“No way,” Clarke utters and Raven begins to growl again.

“Clarke, just give it to her. Clarke!” Jasper tries to reason with the blonde.

“If you let Raven die. You’ll never get it,” Clarke mentions and Raven’s struggles die down. “Untie her wrists. Hold her steady.”

I untie the rope wrapped around Raven’s wrist as Jasper takes a hold of her legs. Clarke relocates her shoulder. “She’s never gonna stop hurting herself,” Bellamy tells the blonde and I look towards Clarke to see her staring down at Raven. “Someone has to stay with her.”

“I’ll be on first watch,” Clarke mutters, looking to the rest of us. “We’ll take turns.”

“You don’t give the orders, Clarke,” Jasper snaps, his eyes glossed over with tears as he breaths erratically.

“Guess he doesn’t forgive you for murdering his girlfriend,” Raven calmly states.

I swallow thickly, looking towards Jasper. “Jasper, take a break,” Bellamy tells the teen and he nods his head, leaving the room. I tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear as Bell and I leave the room as well, leaving Clarke alone with Raven.

“Is this really a good idea?” I ask the curly-haired man as we left the room. He lets out a sigh, shuffling his hair around and shrugs his shoulders.

“I’ve got no idea, but it’s all we’ve got right now.”

Jasper sits at a table, fiddling with the restraint on his wrist. I keep my distance as Bellamy walks up to the table. “You’re okay with her coming back after all this time?” Jas sighs, looking towards the room before his eyes meet Bellamy’s. “Taking over?”

“She’s trying to save Raven,” he tells him.

The buzzcut teen nods his head, continuing to fiddle with his wrist. “Guess she thinks Raven’s worth saving. Lucky for her.”

I watch as Bellamy presses his lips together, leaning against the wooden surface. “Just get yourself together, Jasper. You can’t let your anger get in the way of what we have to do.”

“When you get angry, people die. Just ask that girl over there,” Jasper whispers to Bellamy before he gets up from the table, heading towards the door.

I sigh a bit as Bell glances over his shoulder, Nylah looking at him for a few seconds before continuing to light candles around the room. I place a comforting hand on his shoulder, muttering that I got this before following my best friend outside.

“Jasper,” I call out and the teen turns around to face me.

“What do you want?”

A scoff leaves my lips, rolling my eyes as I’m sick of this attitude he’s giving everyone. 

“What do I want? I want to know why the fuck you’re upset with me!? I didn’t do anything to you, Jasper. I tried to be there for you, but you know what happened? Monty told me that it wasn’t worth trying because you’re pushing everyone away! Do you know who should be pushing people away? Me! Both you and Monty thought I was dead after what happened at the dropship and you know what Audrey told me? That both of you had accepted the fact that I was dead. Do you know how that feels? Kinda like what you’re feeling. So, drop your bullshit with me. Be mad at Clarke for all I care. There’s no reason for you to be taking your anger out on me when I’ve done jack shit,” I breathe heavily after basically screaming at the kid, tears coming to my eyes as I begin to calm down slightly.

Jasper’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he takes a step towards me. “I’m sorry, Britt. You’re right,” he mumbles quietly and brings me into a hug. “Everyone was just so tired of me that if I went to you, you’d begin to feel that way as well. I’m sorry. I truly am.”

I sniffle, wiping my eyes after I pull away from my best friend. “I get it, but you should know by now that I’m not like other people. I’m very forgiving. Hell, I’ve almost fully forgiven Bellamy for the shit he’s pulled even though he doesn’t deserve it.”

A small chuckle leaves his lips as his eyes look towards the building. “You know I never would’ve thought little miss innocent would fall for the bad boy,” he jokes and I slap his chest, a chuckle leaving my lips as well.

“Shut up. I’m not that innocent anymore,” I tell him with a smile before letting out a sigh. “I’ve missed you, you know. After all this shit is over we need to just chill.”

“I can get down with that,” he mentions and brings his hand up to my hair, ruffling it a bit.

-

Bellamy and Jasper sit to watch Raven as I peek through the curtain, seeing Raven’s eyes trained on the two.

“Look at your united front,” she says as the two boys look over at the brunette. “Tell me. Why does Bellamy get a pass for murdering your girlfriend? What was her name?”

“Don’t talk about Maya,” Jasper calmly states while shaking his head.

“You don’t have to listen to this,” Bellamy tells Jasper.

“Let’s protect, Jasper. Jasper’s so sensitive. Jasper’s lost someone. Everyone, cater to his feelings,” Raven taunts as I silently watch, moving my gaze between the three people. “We’ve all lost someone. You don’t see us falling apart. You don’t see us getting wasted. Being useless.”

“No, you took a pill to take your pain away,” Jasper points out as he looks over at Raven. “You gave up your memories.”

“But then, why should we expect anything more? You used to get high off people’s medicine. Being a selfish loser was your only move.”

“Stop,” Jasper whispers.

“That’s all we see when we look at you,” Raven mentions and I’m about to barge in when Clarke grabs my arm, shaking her head no. “A coward. A waste of breath. Why do you even bother living? You’re weak. Pathetic. You can’t save me. You can’t even save yourself. You couldn’t save whats-her-name.”

“You know her name!” Jasper yells, flying out of his chair.

Bellamy gets out of his chair, standing in front of the teen to stop him from going anywhere near Raven. “Jasper think. It’s not Raven talking and you’re giving her what she wants. Go,” he whispers and I see Jasper coming towards the sheets, walking through it.

“Just you and me, huh?” Raven smirks over at Bellamy as he sits back in the chair. I chew on my fingernails as I listen to the conversation, hearing her talk about the fun time they had together. The first time I really got my heart broken.

I push myself through the curtains, gaining Raven and Bellamy’s attention as she looks me up and down. “Bellamy, switch out,” I tell him and he shakes his head.

“No. I’m fine. Go,” he mentions and I let out a laugh, moving to sit beside him.

“Fine. If you’re not leaving then I’m staying.”

Raven looks over at us, the smirk back on her lips. “Oh, yay. The happy couple.” Her eyes move towards me, her head tilted to the side. “Tell me, Britt, how does it feel to be with a man who fucked almost every girl at camp?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh, leaning back in my chair as I smirk back at the girl. “Try me, bitch.”

“Oo, a challenge. I’m all for. Alright. Let’s talk about Octavia. How much longer do you think she’ll be friends with you knowing that you’re sleeping with a monster?” She asks and glances towards Bellamy.

I stay silent, already knowing that Octavia is alright with it. I can feel Bellamy’s eyes on me as I look towards him, a sad look on his features. It’s okay I mouth to him, giving him a reassuring smile.

“How about how Bellamy told me that he’s been with you only to get another notch on his belt?” She tries and I can feel my stomach drop, but I collect myself a bit. Bellamy and I have slept with each other like… six times already. That’s not true. “Oh, did I hit something?”

“Raven, that’s enough,” Bellamy tells her with a hard glare.

“No, you know what Alie,” I start, tired of her shit, “you know nothing of mine and Bellamy’s relationship. Just so you know, I know for a fact that that’s not true because we’ve slept together plenty of times.”

Bellamy rests a hand on my knee, making me look over at the curly-haired man. “Hey, stop,” he whispers and I sigh, nodding my head.

“Wow, plenty of times, huh? Man, she must be a keeper Bellamy,” Raven starts, tilting her head towards the older Blake. "But, it’s got to be hard to know that the person you're absolutely in love with hates you. You can see the hatred in her eyes when she looks at you.”

I narrow my eyes at the mechanic, wishing the lies would fucking stop. Bellamy’s not in love with me and I don’t hate him. He knows that I don’t anyway… I think.

"Shut up," Bellamy mutters while resting his elbows on his knees, not making eye contact with the mechanic.

"Am I triggering something?" Raven asks and Bellamy keeps his eyes on the wall in front of him.

"You know, it's almost the same look she gave you when you slept with me… Then afterward you tried to kiss her. Now, Bellamy," Raven drawls out and the curly-haired man takes a quick glance towards the brunette, "did you really think that'd work? That it was the best idea to do?"

Bellamy swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing his throat. Raven struggles in her restraints a bit as she mumbles to herself. Her eyes move towards me as I kept mine on her, figuring out what she’s trying to get at.

"Britt doesn't deserve you, at all. Hell, she's probably better off with Murphy than you," she tells him while lurching forward slightly. "That reminds me. You know how many times I heard Murphy say he was gonna steal your girl and show her how a man would pleasure her. Apparently, he doesn't think you're man enough for Angel."

"Raven, shut. Up." Bellamy and I growl, the mechanic knowing she's getting into his head

The brunette studies us for a moment, before moving onto a much more serious topic. “Does it bother you that you don’t get any credit for the genocide at Mount Weather?” She asks Bellamy and I look towards the guy, seeing him look at her for a second before shaking his head. “Clarke gets to be the Commander of Death, but you murdered all those people, too, and you’re just forgotten. Then again…” she trails off, leaning her head back against the bed frame. “You didn’t get any credit for the culling of the Ark, either. How many people suffocated when you threw away my radio? You know, at least Clarke was saving her own people. You were just saving your own ass. Of course, that’s nothing compared to killing your own mom.”

I watch as his eyes dart to hers, an unreadable expression on his face as my heart drops into my stomach. Bellamy lets out a deep breath through his nose, sitting back in his chair.

“You just had to take little sister to her first dance. You might as well have just shoved Aurora out of the airlock yourself.”

That’s why he wasn’t a guard anymore…

“Do you think she would be proud of you now? About the kind of leader, you’ve become? I wish you’d see the truth. I want Britt to see the truth, like the rest of us, do. But, you’re a follower. Clarke’s been back for one day and you’re already taking orders. A good, little knight by his queen’s side. Are you really even devoted to your angel here? I mean you left her in Mount Weather to die and face it… she almost did.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bellamy tells her calmly as my heart begins to pound against my ribcage.

“Well, you already thought she was dead since you avenged her right? I mean, you picked up a gun and slaughtered an army that was sent to protect us.”

“Raven, stop,” I pipe up, having heard enough of this shit.

Nylah walks into the room, shooting daggers at Bellamy as the two of us get up from our seats. “My father… you…” she growls.

“Nylah,” Bellamy whispers as the blonde continued to walk up to him.

“You killed him,” she spat and slaps him across the face.

Clarke grabs ahold of the girl, pulling her away from Bell. “Nylah. Nylah, you can’t be in here,” she tells her and begins to drag her out of the room.

“It’s too late,” Jasper starts, looking towards the mechanic, “Raven’s already seen her. Alie knows we’re here.”

Bellamy glares at the mechanic, grabbing his jacket before leaving the room. I quickly follow him, as he walks out of the building. I witness as he lets out a loud grunt, kicking over a barrel before ripping twigs off a nearby tree.

“Feel better?” Nylah asks before I get a chance to speak up, seeing her standing beside me. Bell turns around, seeing both of us standing before him as he lets out a sigh.

“All I wanted was to protect my people.”

“By destroying mine,” she states and my lips part, already shaking my head as Bellamy takes a couple of steps towards us, his eyes trained on her.

“I’m sorry.”

“People like you always are,” Nylah comments and the three of us stand in silence until the Rover approaches us. The blonde walks back into the building as I move to stand beside Bellamy, my fingers grazing against the palm of his hand.

I look up at him to see his eyes on me, unshed tears glossing over his eyes and he grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. I squeeze his hand softly, letting him know that I’m here for him. “Follow me,” he mumbles and leads me away from everyone as Monty and Octavia head inside.

We get a few feet away from the building, standing in the dark as Bellamy stops before turning to face me. “What’s wrong?” I ask, stepping closer to him.

“I just… can’t help but think about what Raven was saying,” he tells me and I grab his other hand.

“She was just trying to-”

“Get in my head, I know,” he finishes and I press my lips together. “The stuff she was saying about you. About how it sucks feeling like the only girl I’ve ever been in love with hates me.”

My breath hitches in my throat as my body tenses up. What…? “Bell-”

“No, let me finish. Angel, it’s true. I saw the way you reacted when she said it. You don’t believe I’m in love with you, but I am. And I know you don’t hate me, but you should. I broke your heart by sleeping with Raven, I made you stay at Mount Weather when it exploded. You almost died because of me. I killed hundreds of grounders because I was angry that they took you from me. Even if it was just one clan. All I could see was red. I let you put yourself in a dangerous situation by helping Kane, but pretending to be on Pike’s side. I should’ve…”

“You should shut up,” I cut him off. “Bellamy… you might’ve done all of that, but I can see that you realized what you did was wrong. Apparently, no one else can but I do. I already forgave you for about half the things you’ve done because I can’t stay mad at you. It’s impossible and really kind of annoying,” I chuckle and see a small smile come to his lips. “You just have to prove to everyone that you’re on our side. That you’re trying to fix things and if they still won’t accept it then fuck them. They’ll figure it out because I know you. I know you won’t stop trying until you succeed.”

Bellamy lets out a tiny scoff, shaking his head while bringing his hand up to my face. “God, how did I ever deserve you?” He asks and rests his forehead against mine.

I shrug my shoulders, looking up at him through my lashes. “I don’t know. Luck of the draw I guess?”

He dips down to press his lips to mine, a small groan escaping from my lips as I wrap my arms around his neck. Bell’s hands move to my waist, sliding around my lower back and deepens the kiss. I bite down on his lip and pull away from him as a moan leaves his lips.

“We can make out later. Right now… we need to go save Raven,” I tell him while combing my fingers through his hair.

“I love you, Angel.”

My cheeks heat up as a large smile comes to my lips. “I love you too, Freckles.”

-

Taglist: @writing-in-riverdale @cutie-potatox3 @lovefilledtragedy @triscuitcracker @kaylinfayezink @1happygir1 @simplisticwriting @panda-pops701 @twd-rocks-blog @jodiereedus22 @literallyhelpme @divadinag

[azhorratha]

     @zankokukami​: 🍵+ stalling on fluff, 🍵+ popularity in rpc, 🍵+ fake people, 🍵villains, 🍵real life representations in rp,  🍵sinday

Send 🍵 for the mun’s salt! || Meme

     Demon’s looking to break my blog tonight. I’ll slap this huge post under a read more so the dash doesn’t have to see a mile long post.

🍵+ stalling on fluff

     Like anyone else, I like fluff but in small doses. I can’t take tooth rotting fluff for long and it’s fine if people like that but for me it’s a hard pass after a bit. 

But, the thing that gets me, is when I’m plotting and writing with someone, and they start trying to keep the fluff scene going no matter how hard I try to write away from it, it’s fucking irritating. I don’t want to read a 200 reply chain of an RP and not see these fuckers move even once away from the scene they’re in unless there’s a good fucking reason for it. Is it set in a hallway or hotel room that operates similarly to P.T.? Then fine, that’s great, use that and go ham with it but not with me. 

Stagnating a thread on fluff with me is the fastest way for me to drop the thread. There has to be some kind of movement or I just can’t do it. I don’t know how people handle these types of threads and end up loving them. It baffles me but I’m glad they’re happy, I just ask that it not happen to me. 

🍵+ popularity in rpc

     Honestly, the only thing I’m salty about with this is that people work too hard to achieve it. To the point that they’re honestly starting to use other people to get all these numbers. This is one of the things I agree with on the majority where quantity doesn’t equal quality. 

The numbers don’t matter for anything.

What’s going to get you popular is consistency in your writing and characterization. Even then, I don’t think it’s something to work toward. Do you really want 2k+ sets of eyes on you to criticize everything that you’re putting out? Do you want to end up with 500 threads that only get past one or two notes because you’re struggling to keep up with replies?

At some point you have to sit down and wonder why you’re really doing this. Is it because you enjoy the character? That’s great then! Because when people see your passion and love for your character, they’ll like that far better than how many replies you can throw out. Not only is that going to burn you out but it’s a good way to lose muse quickly. 

All in all, sometimes it’s better to have fewer people following you, that way you can concentrate on other things and not feel as pressured. This is supposed to be for fun, a hobby, but it’s not being treated like that most of the time. You’re expected to be online 24/7 and answer threads as soon as the reply is posted and it can’t be like that all the time. 

On top of that, sometimes people give up parts of themselves just to fit in with the popular crowd and that’s just sad. Why try to cut out a piece of yourself to fit in where you don’t belong? Look for those around you who you get along with, who you know are there for you if you need them. True friends. Not these Regina George assholes sitting around and telling you ‘you can’t sit with us’ if you’re friends with certain people. 

And that leads into...

🍵+ fake people

     How in the world do people keep this shit up? How do you have the time and energy to be two-faced?

Sure, go ahead and bitch about someone in private but don’t spread shit needlessly. You have zero reason not to block them and move tf on. This isn’t a high school. You’re allowed to just not talk to someone, that’s fine. 

Honestly though, the fakeness of some people on this website is absolutely unreal. It’s like being in high school all over again. I don’t have time for that shit and I graduated over ten years ago. I get some of you are 18-22 and still have some of that spirit going for it but for the love of god, focus on growing out of it. You’ll feel a hell of a lot better when you do. 

I’m at the point in my life where I don’t give a shit if someone dislikes me but if they do, I want them to at least be honest about it. Don’t like me? Hate my guts? Want to dance on my grave when I’m dead? Do it, I don’t give a fuck. But don’t fucking pretend to like me when you don’t. I don’t play these games. 

The same goes for ass kissing. And yes, I see a lot of that on here too. People sucking up to popular blogs so they can get attention - I consider that to be two-faced and fake too. Like you literally can rarely take people at face value on this website because they hide behind so many masks but at some point, they show who they really are. 

I’m straight up about it and I have been for a long time - I can be a raging asshole. Is that my natural state? No, but I’ll snap back if someone gets aggressive with me. Which is funny because the one who started it wants to pretend to be a victim after I go at them. 

🍵villains

     I’ve said it countless times that villains need to be allowed to be villains. Woobifying them down to be a redeemed uwu boi just so you can get ships is just ridiculous. That’s great if you’re happy about getting the interactions you’re seeking but holy shit some of these people literally make these canon villains 50 OCs in a trench coat. Or a shitty self insert. 

It’s difficult to write a villain and keep to their base personality, I’ll admit that, but shitting all over what makes the character the character they are makes no sense. If you loved the character for how they’re shown in their canon media, then why are you going to change them so much? 

Yeah I get it ‘uwu but Ripley, you did the same thing with Prompto and made him a sex worker!’ 

Not the same. I kept all the canon history and entity, all I did was fill in the gaps and refuse to make him uwu super soff sweatah boi like the majority of the fandom. Easy peasy. 

Look, it’s easy to be canon divergent and stay true to the source material without essentially making an OC out of a canon. All it requires is a bit of thought and creativity. Something that some on here tend to lack, like certain thieves I know.

🍵real life representations in rp

     Okay so I��m taking this to mean people RPing youtubers and shit so uh. Yeah, here’s the thing about that. Some of these people know you’re fucking do it and want you to fucking stop. If you can’t respect their wishes then you deserve to whatever the consequences will be and I have no fucking sympathy for you. 

I mean think of it this way, you wake up one day and you’re having a good fucking time. You log on your favorite social media and there’s a message. Cool, normal shit. But this message has a link to it and they say, in a serious way, you need to see this. You click the link and your blood runs cold - there’s your face and someone is pretending to be you.

Do you see the fucking issue now? These people don’t realize or don’t care that you’re writing them as a character because of their work persona or whatever they put out into the world. All they’re seeing is something that makes them hugely uncomfortable, especially if you’re shipping on that RP blog with other known youtubers and shit. 

It’s creepy. It’s disrespectful. You need to fucking stop. 

Sure, there’s a few who really don’t give a shit and that’s fine if they don’t but don’t expect people to bother with following or interacting with you. It’s different than having an OC or RPing the canon that the actor has performed. That’s fine. But the actual people? Markiplier, Pewdiepie, that fucking disgusting, abusive onion boy? I may not like the last one but it’s still weird and it’s not okay.  Stop doing this shit if they don’t want you to do it. Yes, this goes for the k and j/pop singer blogs of people rping them as themselves. Fucking stop it. You shouldn’t need my salty ass to tell you this if you’ve got a functioning brain.

🍵sinday

     Why have a single Sunday for sin when it happens all the time on the dash anyway lmao. Like look, I used to be one of those people who would smut outright all over the place but I just can’t be bothered anymore. It was 90% of my blog content because that’s all people wanted and I got tired of being used for it. 

For me, smutting got boring as hell. There’s only so many ways you can write someone shoving their dick or fingers in a hole or moaning and writhing all over the place. It gets bland and tasteless after a while. I’ve seen a few people actually manage to make it look like art. I still don’t know how they managed it. Well, yeah I know how they did it because it was mainly purple prose but I’m not into that style so fuck that. 

Also why call it Sinday at all? Why does NSFW have to be considered a sin? Idk, something about that annoys me and I can’t quite put my finger on it but it reeks of Puritanical shit. Reminds me of how bible beaters go around claiming things are a sin all the time. Yeah, I get it, that’s likely not the intention but it gets annoying to see. Especially when people are smutting all over the place anyway. Hated the name of this trend when it first came about and I still do.

I don’t care if someone wants to smut on the dash though, don’t get me wrong on that and don’t twist my words. You want to have your character banged harder than a screen door in a hurricane? Fucking go for it. I just prefer to fade to black. So really, like most things, it falls to preference. 

[brieannakeogh]

Ambition, Butter, and Wine- Chapter 3

Ambition, Butter, and Wine- Kylo Ren x plus sized reader. Crack! Fic. You’re a new First Order recruit. Trained in the culinary arts at the top schools and they dare make you serve the common folk. What happens when you have the opportunity to serve Lord Ren?

Master List / Previous Chapter

Warnings: Some light accidental torture

Chapter 3

Kylo was in bed two more days. On the second day your mouth went tight as he declined your offer to call the medbay. You were fully aware he was a “grown adult, who could call if he needed it.” but he wasn’t doing that. He was stubborn. You felt more pressure in the back of your head again. It had been happening with more and more frequency and you just knew it was him, poking at your thoughts. You had simi given him permission to and now it was like he was in your head all the time when you were around.

Everything had gone back to normal except for that. It was starting to give you a headache how frequently he was in there. You tried very hard to school your thoughts. Going over recipes in your head, measurements, the gossip of the day, anything except the two small things you wanted to keep from him. One, the fact that you had started making enough during his meals for you to have a portion, and two that you had a crush on him. It was ridiculous and it was easy enough to ignore when he was stalking around the halls in the dramatic cape and stupid helmet with his saber in easy reach, but in the morning he was so soft looking. His hair tousled and sleep still in the corners of his eyes, it just wasn’t fair that his man could go from soft cozy Kylo to Lord I’ll-kill-you-if-you-look-at-me-funny Ren. Not that you really cared as long as it wasn’t you he was killing.

The first secrete was spilled one day when he decided to be ‘nice’, and drop the tray off himself since he “had to pass by anyway.” and found you eating a not as nice version of the same meal you dropped off at lunch. The pressure was back and you could hear what you thought was a snort come from the metal helmet. You couldn’t clamp down your thoughts in time to something mundane like “I messed up the first batch and didn’t want it to go to waste.” No he had to read the whole alarm bells going off on a repeat of, I’m a thief! He’s definitely going to kill me now!

“Stop panicking. It’s a perk, not stealing.” You swear you could hear the smirk in his voice. He sat the tray down next to you and walked out. Well if that didn’t sound like permission to keep doing it, you don’t know what did. So that’s exactly what you did.

The second came out one night a few weeks later. By this point you had been solely cooking him meals for 4-5 months at this time. You’re not sure what he told the other chef or officers, although you expect he had come up with some special force secret dietary bullshit excuse. Especially after what one of your coworkers...that wasn’t right….people who work near you...asked what restrictions you had. You had pointedly ignored them, but when they continued you growled out menacingly that it wasn’t any of their business and to leave you the hell alone. You made sure to run that scene on repeat in your head when you dropped off Lord Ren’s food. His lip twitched, which was the equivalent of a full grin from anyone else.

Tonight wasn’t going as good as that night. In fact this went even more poorly than the first night when you walked in and he was in all of his comfortable night clothes, which he was in again. However you had gotten use to it, at least at night. You went about your business, setting the tray at the table while you waited for him to sit, have his obligatory bite, and either lip twitch or finger twitch in dismissal, depending on how happy he was with the meal.

It all came to a grinding halt when you turned and saw him reach for something. You had no clue what, and it could have been a stretch for all the good your observational skills did you, because your entire focus was on the small strip of skin that had been exposed on his belly. It was pale and smooth, and you really wanted to touch it to see if it’s as velvety as it looks. Your hand even raised up a little subconsciously. That’s when you felt it, the pressure at the back of your head. At the realization that he was in your head and had seen all of the thirst, a cold shiver ran down your spine and you started stumbling back towards the exit.

“Oh calm down!” He half shouts exasperated. “If I cut the head off of everyone that found me attractive, I really would have to wear the helmet all the time and Hux wouldn’t be here anymore.”

“Oh.” Well thank fuck for that! Wait...did he say…

“Yes, now get your head out of the gutter, I’m trying to eat here.”

“Yes sir.” But you couldn’t. Your brain conjuring up all sorts of things without your control.

“I said…”

“I know sir,” You interrupted, “and I’m trying. Maybe just stay out of my head for tonight. I’ll work on it so it doesn’t happen tomorrow.”

He narrows his eyes at you as he stands by the table. “Noted.” He concedes.

Well if he was going to stay out maybe you could just...yep that sweater makes his arms look good. It doesn’t hurt to look while he’s locked himself out, right? And oh stars you did look. Only for a minute until he twitched his hand and dismissed you.

You paused after you started to walk out, turning to face him again. “Just out of curiosity...when?” You felt another poke when he couldn’t sus out what you were asking.

The smirk spread on his face had you worried. “Dinner, day one.” Was all he said and turned back to his meal.

Well bantha tits, he’s known from the beginning! Than what’s the point of you hiding it all along? “Because I don’t want to hear about your sexual depravity towards my person. Your food isn’t that good.”

“Yes, sir.” You acknowledged as your body crawled back into it’s skin from which it jumped, scared. As you walked out, you broadcasted ‘Yes it is.’ and sort of hoped he was still listening in. It was getting harder and harder to tell.

He smirked as he bit into another mouthful. “You’re right, it is.” He said to himself.

Kylo knew he couldn’t keep you as a secret forever. With all the gossip on the base it was only a matter of time before someone became suspicious. He expected Phasma would find out first, which he wasn’t oppose so much about you making extra for her, but Hux on the other hand, he wasn’t going to let that happen. The others had been dumb enough to be fooled or weren’t so foolish to question about the special dietary restriction of a force user. That had been a good idea he picked from your brain. However, the other two commanders wouldn’t be persuaded so easily.

It happened! It finally happened! Hux had learned about you and asked for you to make his food as well. Kylo thought he was having such a good morning too, but he had seen the poorly constructed barrier in your head to try and keep him out. That wasn’t like you so of course he tore it down easily and watched as Hux cornered you in the kitchen. Of course you couldn’t turn down his request, but he could. He would march right in there and demand that Hux go back to the generic officer swill. As he watched you set the table like normal, a little bit of tremble in your hands, he uttered out a low “Mine.” that you surely couldn’t hear.

He pushed in further to your mind and saw you wince in pain at the pressure. He wanted to see the whole interaction in detail, usually he only skimmed your thoughts and emotions, most of the time you didn’t even notice. This he went a lot deeper.

Watching as Hux barged into the kitchen, hands behind his back and not a hair out of place. You were momentarily startled, but then ignored him in favor of the omelette you were plating up. It didn’t come out as nice as you wanted so you had set it aside to work on the second one for himself. He thought it looked fine, but learned early on you were a perfectionist. Hux grabbed the plate and started eating as he grilled you about your duties. You gave short, polite responses, but vague enough that Kylo could work with. He watched as Hux moaned around the fork in his mouth and told you to have his lunch ready too, “Whatever you were already fixing was fine.” Kylo also felt your jolt of response at the General’s moan, which made him growl out another “Mine” that you did hear.

Your head was pounding so hard that you had to stop what you were doing and press your palms to your temples. It felt like your skull would explode if you didn’t keep it in place. Flashbacks of this morning assaulted you and when the same pang of lust you had at hearing the General moan hit you this time, it brought you to your knees. Lord Ren had said something after that, but you couldn’t think straight. Finally you couldn’t contain it anymore and a whimper of pain left you.

Kylo’s refocused on the here and now when he heard the sad noise you made, shocked to see you almost curled in the fetal position at his feet. He scrambled back into his own head after seeing enough, leaving both of you panting with the effort. Tearing into the closet after composing himself, he sees you sit up out the corner of his eye. He handled your mind too roughly. Honestly if you had less semblance of self, it could have broken you, but you seemed fine. Anger and hurt rolled from you, but that was to be expected.

By the time your head clears and you can sit up properly to know you are still on the floor, you see Kylo with his pants changed and pulling his shirt off, his armor in hand. The food left untouched on the table. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to talk to Hux, straighten out this mess.”

“Don’t. Just sit and eat. I’ll handle it.” You groan as you stand.

“Did you just order me?” He whips around to you, armor thrown to the bed as he stands before you. Pride is what you are giving off, along with a heavy dose of ambition. If he wasn’t worried about breaking you he would be digging into your mind again to see exactly what you were thinking.

“No sir. Sorry sir. I just like to fight my own battles and…” You lick your lips, trying to decide if you should say what you were thinking. Oh fuck it, you only live once right? “It also won’t hurt my career any to provide specialized meals to both you and the General.”

His eyes had started to soften, he could understand wanting to fight for yourself, but then you went and fucked it up. Sharing wasn’t in his nature and your ambition was too great. He grabbed you by the upper arm, squeezing just a bit too tight and pulled you to the table.

“Sit, eat. Hux ate yours and I’m going to go deal with him now. There are pain meds in the bathroom for the headache that will be on you soon.”  He went and grabbed his armor off the bed, throwing it on as he exited his quarters, leaving you utterly confused.

Next Chapter

Didn’t finish Ch 11 of Dog Days in time, sorry. Hopefully this is a good substitute. 

If you want to be tagged just send an ask or reply. Thanks!

@stevieang, @albinotigerpython, @paintballkid711, @lilypalmer1987

[cherryvalances]

November 25, 1964

“I hear Timmy Shepard’s coming home today,” Carla said the moment Mina set a chocolate milkshake on the tabletop.

Had it been just anyone, they would have missed the effects that name roused: the dose of vitality that shot up Mina’s spine, warming each vertebra on its way up; the squeak of the red vinyl booth as she shifted her legs over and under and back again, her cherry red lips spreading into a smile, then captured between her teeth, until smoothing into their usual pursed state – an evolution so quick Darwin wouldn’t have noticed. But Aunt Carla wasn’t just anyone.

“Angela called me the other night. Said he’s being released early on ‘good behavior.’ But I know it’s the overcrowding.” She retrieved a napkin from the pocket of her apron and placed it by her aunt’s hands, her eyes everywhere but where they should be. It was still cloudy outside, she noticed.

A hybrid expression encompassed Carla’s face, a thoughtless, knowing smile and something else Mina couldn’t name and didn’t particularly want to. “And, I hear,” the woman began, carefully stirring the milkshake into a frothy soup, “that there’s a party in his and Nicco’s honor tonight.”

Mina wondered who her contacts were for a brief moment, before annoying herself with her own stupidity. “Mhm, I’m heading over after my shift.” It wasn’t missing a shift at the restaurant that Carla was worried about, but Mina had been playing this game for a while, she knew how it went.

“Well, good. You’re always working, Mina. It’s time you dedicate some time to yourself and have fun.” But not too much, was always implied.

The older woman sipped happily on her milkshake, nearing its end, then paused and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Your grandfather invited some acquaintances to tomorrow’s dinner.” Her words were careful and deliberate. “Your cousin Damiano among them.” She folded the used napkin once, twice, then three times, her dark gaze drawn to her working hands.

Mina raised a brow at her aunt’s employment of the word ‘acquaintances.’ It wasn’t rare for her grandfather to invite outsiders to dinner sometimes, but he rarely provided a warning. “He believes them to be an excellent group of men, hopes you’ll think so, too.”

Recognition flashed in Mina’s blurry eyes and she nodded, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear, a small smile tugging at her lips and cheeks. “I hope so, too, zia.”

Aunt Carla mirrored her smile and drained her glass with a noisy slurp. “Thank you for the milkshake, topolina. I’ll see you later.” Carla slid out of the booth, the bench squeaking from the friction of her weight, and the fabric of her skirt, and the fact that that booth was notoriously noisy. The older woman began to gather her belongings, scooping up her scarf and her handbag from where she fished out a crisp five-dollar bill and laid it on the tabletop. Mina assisted her aunt with her coat, holding it up to provide easy access and kissed her goodbye.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, somewhere deep in the heart of Tulsa. She hummed as she wiped away the condensation that had dripped off the milkshake glass. The bill was stiff and heavy in her hand like it was fresh from the teller, Mina pocketed it, and thought about the untouched cherry in Aunt Carla’s glass.  The man was still standing on the corner of Pickett and Sutton when Mina Santini left the diner. She had passed him on her walk to work for a week, each day growing more unsettled.

A group of women formed a half-circle around him, their eyes shining, eyebrows arched with intrigue. No one seemed particularly affected by his words, it was his presence that grounded them to the cement. Street preachers didn’t simply pop up on street corners on the North side. She spotted a few familiar faces in the crowd, matriarchs from her neighborhood cradling groceries or work uniforms, due to start the night shift when the clock struck seven or the preacher finally abandoned his post, whichever came first. “And where is God in all of this?” His clear voice rang, the first signs of sundown filtering through the dark clouds. A few in the crowd chuckled darkly. They knew the answer. Mina did too. God didn’t reside in the North side of Tulsa, he hadn’t in a while. She was halfway down the adjacent street before he could finish his monologue. She wrapped her coat tighter around her small form, each muffled bump of her bag against her thigh urging her to walk faster. Her cheeks were saturated pink as the wind rolled, ruffling the dark auburn locks that escaped the loosening grip of her ponytail. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about the man that bothered her so. It wasn’t his ill-fitting suit or his scuffed shoes – poverty wasn’t exactly a rarity around these parts. Maybe it was the way he spoke, his voice heavy and jagged, like bolded text personified, too intrusive to bare for longer than a second. (Maybe it was his presence in general.) Mina had been to a Christian service in junior high once, the pastor had spoken in that same voice. It was a tactic employed to encourage visceral reactions from a passionate congregation, but on the corner of Pickett and Sutton, it highlighted his audience’s silence.
November had brought its usual chill and she knew that if she didn’t hurry, the night would soon turn as dark as it was cold. It wasn’t the temperature she was worried about, every Tulsan knew better than to wander around the Northside lonesome, especially after sundown. The moon, with all her beauty, was only ever a witness and never a savior. The sun was settling with blues and purples on the horizon when she entered the alley behind the restaurant. The backdoor was ajar, and a sliver of warmth and light beckoned her, the muted sounds of the jazz band tuning up teasing her ears. Mina tugged on the thick handle, another world fabricating before her. The heart of Tierra Nostra was its bustling, lively kitchen. Waiters clad in black and white filtered in and out, balancing trays of drinks, entrees, and empty plates on their hands or shoulders. The numerous light fixtures provided a distinct contrast from the greying sky and dim alley and a flurry of scents greeted her. She closed the steel door behind her and wandered toward the line of hooks where employees kept their coats and hats and scarves, the heat from the ovens instantly relieving her chilled body. “Good to see ya, Mina!” Rafe called, his greeting instantaneous, he’d always had sharp eyes, they hopped from the tray he was nurturing to her wiggling figure. She was trying to remove her coat. It was her favorite for the same reason it needed replacing, it was snug on her arms, providing her with extra warmth when necessary, it was only a hassle now. “You say that every day, Rafe,” she laughed, amusement playing in her tone. She finally got the coat off and draped it over a lonely hook. She retrieved her apron, tossing the soft, white cloth over her shoulder. Her feet led her to the sink, the routine long since ingrained within her. Rafe placed the dark tray over his shoulder, “Coz every day it’s true,” he winked and disappeared behind the double doors before she could reply. A scoff escaped her upturned lips, she shook her head, turning the faucet on and pumping the soap dispenser until a generous amount resided on her palms. Dispersing it diligently for a few seconds, she contemplated the remainder of her day. Even if she wanted to skip the party, Angela wouldn’t stand for it, knowing her, she’d stomp over to her house – or annoy one of Tim’s boys to the point that they’d give her a ride – and push her off the bed and pout at her for being so boring. Aunt Carla was right, it’d been a while since she had fun and done something entirely for her own amusement. Angela said she worked too much. The smile that had been lingering over her lips since her interaction with Rafe rejuvenated, Angela always had that effect on her, it’d been that way for as long as Mina could remember and she reckoned it would stay that way ‘til the end of her days. She rinsed the suds off, drying her hands with her apron and tying it at her waist. The energy streaming in from the main room began to revitalize the kitchen, the stove burners blaring a little louder, the chefs’ words looping and rolling along to the jazz tunes. The atmosphere was coming together seamlessly, every employees’ heart seemed to thump in harmony. Mina tugged at the restrictive ribbon, her mass of dark hair settling against her back, and for a brief moment, she wondered if the preacher made it home safe. It’s her last thought before her dainty hands push the swinging doors, the jazz melodies cutting the rest of the world off. For the next few hours, only the souls at Tierra Nostra exist.  Angela was standing on the crumbling sidewalk at the end of the block when Mina approached. The youngest Shepard had a cigarette between her plump, rosy lips and was tapping her right foot shamelessly. Angela’s eyes brightened when they spotted Mina’s figure under the flickering streetlight, she took another puff before hopping off the rounded corner and meeting her friend halfway. She wrapped her thin arms around the older girl, bending her wrist away so the cigarette didn’t sear her coat. “Minaaa,” Angela cooed, giving a small squeeze before pulling away. “I was boutta go lookin’ for you,” She frowned. Mina chuckled softly, “I would never miss this party.” “Yeah, but you would show up late for it,” she pouted, yanking lightly at a lock of Mina’s freshly washed hair with two fingers. Their eyes met and a smile blossomed on Angela’s mouth. “Okay,” she let up. Mina bumped their hips and the two giggled, making their way down the sidewalk to the Shepard house. Groups of teenagers stood around the lawn drinking from beer and pop bottles, a few greeted the pair but the music flowing from the backyard muffled most of the chatter. Angela pushed her way to the front door and opened it easily. The knob was loose and tended to refuse locking entirely. Mina allowed the younger girl to guide her inside, where a few familiar Northsiders lounged around the living room. “Mina!” Curly greeted from the kitchen, a big grin on his features as he strode over. He was a whole head taller than her and still growing. “Hi, Curly,” he brought her into a tight hug before Angela smacked his shoulder and he pulled away. “Nicco’s outside with Darry Curtis and his guys if you wanna see ‘im,” Curly informed as she removed her coat. Angela took it from her, shoving it into Curly’s arms. “He and Ponyboy were being pimples on the ass of humanity again,” Angela sneered, her big Bambi eyes staring daggers at her brother who simply cracked up with laughter. “It was funny as fuck, Mina, shoulda been there.” “Where’s Tim?” Angela snapped, peering up at her brother, voice sharp and impatient. “In the kitchen,” Curly threw a thumb in that direction with no real reaction to his sister’s childlike fury and walked down the hallway to deposit her coat. Angela gave her a look and rolled her blue eyes. Mina made a soft noise and grabbed Angela’s hand, pulling her towards the kitchen. Tim Shepard and a couple of his guys were talking loudly, animatedly. The Shepards are real lookers, she’s reminded when her eyes found Tim. Tim was a lean, muscled eighteen-year-old (he’d only been eighteen for twenty days then, no one talked about the fact that he’d come of age inside) who looked like the model JD in movies and magazines. He was tall – taller than Curly and that was saying something – and had wavy black hair, smoldering dark eyes, and a long scar from temple to chin where a vagrant had slugged him with a broken pop bottle a few years ago. There was something about Tim, there always had been. He was magnetic, electric. You couldn’t ignore him even if you tried, and Mina tried. He exuded character, he demanded attention. He wasn’t beautiful like Darry Curtis’s brother Soda, but he was attractive, nobody could deny it. Mina focused her eyes anywhere else as they passed through the kitchen towards the backdoor. Angela’s hand in hers like an anchor. The chilly night air greeted her skin, refreshing against the long sleeves of her blouse. The backyard was teeming with people bopping to an Elvis track. Inside, Tim Shepard’s lips were pursed together. He wasn’t a praying man but Jesus Christ, Mina sure had grown up while he was gone. “Happy Birthday, Nicco.” She murmured into her brother’s ear, her arms loosely looping around his neck. He was sitting on an old lawn chair, surrounded by Darry’s gang and a few others. She felt his strong chest rumble with laughter, “It ain’t midnight yet.” She planted a kiss on his cheek and stroked a few stray locks of dark hair off his forehead, “Well, yeah, but I wanted to be the first one to congratulate you.” Nicco smiled their mother’s smile, all nice teeth, and sincere, shining eyes. She caught the hand he placed on her elbow and gave it a light squeeze before disappearing into the crowd. 

The night was winding down and Two-Bit Mathews, who she had always liked despite herself, had spun her around one too many times than her childhood dance classes had prepared her for. Steadying herself on the guardrail of the backdoor steps, she let out a small giggle, “I’ll be back!” She called out to Darry Curtis and he pouted his lips, glancing down at his empty beer bottle. She rolled her eyes, giggles still flowing from her lips, “I’ll get you some water too!” She carefully climbed the three steps and went over the threshold. She wasn’t drunk, but she did have a nice buzz going. She blamed Two-Bit for her haphazard balance. She closed the door behind, immediately encroached by the quiet. Tim Shepard, the other man of the hour, was leaned against the kitchen counter like he had hadn’t moved once tonight. He held a beer bottle in his large hand and she tried not to notice the new marks on his knuckles. At the door’s soft click, he glanced upward, and their gazes met. The buzz in Mina’s chest calmed and nearly dissipated entirely. “Ademina Santini.” He breathed out, his dark blue eyes scanning her up and down. He detected her state, recognizing the flush in her cheeks and the look in her eyes, though he’d only seen her like this a few times. He took another swig from the bottle in his hands. “Tim Shepard,” she acknowledged lowly. He said nothing as she opened the fridge and removed the jug of cold water. She served herself a glass, drinking slowly. Tim watched her intently, occasionally taking more swigs of his beer. Snores emanated from the living room, coloring the silence between them. Later, she’d discover Ponyboy and Curly, who’d knocked out on the living room floor. She refilled the glass and put the jug back, almost forgetting to get another beer for Darry. As nice as Mrs. Curtis was, her boys drinking was something she wouldn’t put up with. It made Darry a careful drinker, always sipping water in-between beers and making sure his stomach was full. “Thanks for lookin’ after Angel.” She turned to him and nodded slightly, avoiding his eyes. “I hope you had a nice time because I’m not doing it again.” They both knew that was a lie. Mina didn’t need an excuse to watch over Angela, she’d been doing that since she was thirteen. But things had been different then, before the Shepard gang, she had taken Angela under her wing because she wanted to, not because her big brother was away. “I’ve learned my lesson.” He hid his smirk; Mina’s intensity never bothered him. She was simply trying to make a point now, he knew they understood each other.

“Have a nice Thanksgiving, Tim,” she said, nearing the backdoor again.

You too, Mina.”  ____

AUTHORS NOTE: I have been working and planning and nurturing this fic and character since June of 2017. Mina Santini and her story is something I hold really close to my heart. So I hope you all enjoy it! Feel free to comment all your thoughts and opinions below! (I desperately need the feedback.)

Mina and her family are Italian, so this story will feature plenty of Italian dialogue, below are some translations.

Zia - Aunt/Auntie Topolina - Little Mouse

[lifeofmarvvel]

The Song Sirens Sing Part 7

Word Count: 1954

Warnings: Angst-- hopefully I actually did it properly this time...

A/N: What’s up? I’m back with the next part! School has swamped me and I haven’t really had any time to work on this between the last time I updated and this week. Speaking of which, it’s Spring Break for me! Part 8 might come out before the end of the week, but no promises. 

Series Masterlist

Part 6

“You’re telling me that you talked to a pirate, made an agreement to talk, and he never showed up?” Hill questioned you.

“Uh...yeah. That’s exactly what I just said.” You fidgeted in your seat.

“Are you sure he didn’t do that so the crew could follow you so they could capture more mermaids?”

You looked up, dead serious. “I met him at the festival- however long ago that was- when I got recruited. I don’t think an enemy of mermaids would be actively interacting with them at something like that.”

Hill crossed her arms. “We need to make sure. The wrong people find out about SHIELD and we’re down. We can’t afford that. We’re too close to taking down Strucker for that.”

“I understand that. I’ve been through training,” you grumbled. “Can’t you take my word for it? You said you had faith in me before I left.” Don’t take it back now, you thought.

Hill sighed. “I’ll run it by Coulson- see what he knows. It’s likely to match up, we just need the reassurance. Until then, you’re stuck on training. We don’t know how long it will take to track down Strucker this time. He’ll be aware that someone’s after him by now. Dismissed.”

You swam out of the room with a huff. Swimming without really paying attention to where you were going, your subconscious brought you to Clint’s house. He saw you approaching and stuck his head out. “Hey! How’s my favorite siren doing?” He smiled, then added on, “Don’t tell Nat I said that.”

He invited you in and you sat down. On the table was one of his bows and a quiver. He must have been leaving for a mission soon. “Not so great,” you said truthfully. “I feel like Hill doesn’t trust me even though she said herself that she had faith in me earlier. Why would she do that?”

Clint looked up from the drawer he was searching through. “Did your mission go wrong? Because in my experience, she only gets like that when a mission goes wrong.”

“So too often for you and Nat.”

“Hey!” He put his hand on his chest, grabbing a wire. “Our missions may not go according to plan but we usually get everything done.”

“Sure.” He swam over, rolling up the string and putting it in a small compartment in the quiver. He shook his head at you mockingly and shoved your shoulder as he passed by again.

“Sure to me never doing anything right or sure to that being the reason why Maria’s off?”

“Uh...both. Both are good.”

He shoved your shoulder again and sat down across from you. “What exactly happened? Spare no details. Unless it’s, like, ultra graphic. I don’t need that in my brain. I’ve had my share with how long I’ve been at SHIELD.”

With that, you launched into another retelling of what happened. And, like he said, you spared no detail, including the happiness you felt when you saw Peter, the concern when you noticed he was fighting, and the feelings his not returning brought. You hadn’t sorted that out and it would probably take a few nights staying up overthinking to do so.

Clint listened patiently, the corners of his mouth threatening a frown. Once you finished, he stayed silent, gathering his thoughts. He drummed his fingers on the table as he thought. Nodding his head to himself, he also glanced around the room before his eyes fell on you again. “Now, you’re not going to like what I’m about to say,” he warned, “but I think you should listen to Maria on this one.”

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

The steady metronome of his fingers combined with his words and you scowled. He was right; you didn’t like his advice. You tried to stand but Clint’s hand shot out and pulled you back down.

“Nope. You’re not allowed to ask for my advice and leave because you don’t like it.”

You huffed. “Nobugtsit,” you mumbled to yourself. Your eyes focused on his hand, which was still clacking away on the furniture. It didn’t stop you from catching his expression.

“What was that?” Clint tilted his head, looking a bit like one of those land creatures he seemed to adore. What was it again? A puppy. Except he didn’t look over eager and curious- he looked ready to pry your thoughts from your head.

“Nobody gets it,” you said slightly louder. You could’ve sworn you saw Clint’s face flicker with something, but it was gone before you could decipher it. You opened your mouth to explain and the words tumbled out one after the other like a waterfall you once happened upon. “Sure, mer-human interaction is more common than they let the public believe, but that’s all platonic stuff. Or business stuff, ugh.

“The thing is, it’s not platonic. Well, maybe not exactly but it’s on its way. And nobody wants to take me seriously. It’s not just a crush- he likes me back! But all I get is ‘no, it won’t work’ and ‘you’re just a kid’. Everyone’s fine with teen mers dating but suddenly it’s oh so wrong because he’s not a mer. I’m [age] years old! I’m old enough to make my own decisions! I decided to join SHIELD but I can’t decide if I like a human or not? Get off my back! I know Peter and I know myself. We can handle it just fine!

“Okay, yeah, he’s a pirate but he’s the sweetest person I know! He’s genuine and he loves what he’s doing and his crew can’t be that bad if they’re trying to take down Strucker, too! Is it really such a bad thing that we aren’t the same species? Newsflash, it’s not like that’s anything new in nature, either. If it lasts as long as I hope, then we can just get a sorcerer or something involved. We can cross that bridge when we get there. It really isn’t as big as a deal as everyone is trying to make it out to be to me!

“On top of that, I’m mad at him! He didn’t keep his part of the deal! He said he’d meet up with me and he just walked right past me like I didn’t exist! He broke his promise! He doesn’t do that but he just did! It’ll be fine in the long run as long as this doesn’t happen again but Hill’s deal makes it impossible for me to do so! UGH!

“And stop with the finger drumming! It’s getting on my nerves!” You slammed your hand down on top of his with your final words, effectively quieting it.

Clint’s eyes widened and his mouth parted. Your stomach turned, your own eyes widening. You shot out of your seat. “I shouldn’t have said anything. See you, Clinton.” You were out the door before he could blink, leaving him to stare at your now empty.

Stupid stupid stupid.

All Clint had done ask that you take his advice seriously and you snapped at him. You didn’t even snap at him related to what he was going to give you advice on. You closed your eyes and dragged your hand down your face. This is not going well at all.

All Hill and Clint were saying was to stay away from Peter for a bit while things got sorted out. Clint wasn’t questioning your maturity levels or if you were capable of handling a relationship with Peter- though he definitely had a reason to do so now.

The stress must be getting to you. You paced back and forth on a familiar patch of coral reef. Joining SHIELD was a bad idea. Too much pressure to do well. Too much pressure on yourself about Peter. Too much pressure to show your maturity. Too much pressure to show you could handle it. Too much pressure, too much pressure, too much pressure. And you failed. Again.

That seemed to be the reoccurring theme ever since you met Peter. Fail. Scrape something together. Fail harder. Pick up more pieces. Fail fail fail fail fail fail fail fail fail fail fail fail fail-

Deep breath. In. Out. It’s not Peter’s fault. It’s not your fault. It’s just the timing. It’s not Clint’s fault. It’s not Nat’s fault. In and out. Okay, so maybe your emotional maturity wasn’t as high as you had thought. That can be improved. Remember what Nakia taught you.

Nakia--

You needed to get in touch with Nakia. She was due for a visit from you and she provided a new outside look. So outside, considering she lived closer to Wakanda. Maybe things were different there- she would have a different culture to pull advice from. Maybe your situation wasn’t as isolated as it seemed. You could only hope.

Leaving a quick note in case Wanda comes to find you later, you took off for a small cave in the middle of nowhere.

Peter woke with a start, sweat dripping down his face. The ship swayed dangerously with the waves but he hardly noticed. He forgot his end of the deal. Leave it to the middle of the night days later for him to remember. Oh, (Y/N) wasn’t going to trust him now.

Things had gotten hectic aboard the SS Avengers. After Thor had spun a tale of him, his brother, a snake, and a knife, the crew had disjoined and regular duties called. For everyone else, that is. Peter stayed cooped up once again, making sure he didn’t have Siren Sickness.

It was outright ridiculous that they thought he stood a chance of getting it again. They’d talked- what, 2, 3 times now and he hadn’t gotten it. After the first time, he did have it, technically. The second, Shuri gave him another dose. Hmmpf. So maybe they did have no basis to believe otherwise.

But Peter was fine. He was fine. The only thing that could be counted symptom-like was how much he wanted to see (Y/N) again. That was hardly related- he’d been wanting to talk to her 24/7 ever since they talked in Wakanda.

Tony was still cautious. They were trying to figure out where Strucker was again- no easy task. Since Peter hadn’t left the cabin thanks to Tony, he had absolutely no way to contact (Y/N). As a result, he had no way to know if she knew where Strucker was- or whoever had sent her to The Poisoned Plunder knew. They sat at square one.

The ship lurched to one side. Peter’s stomach jumped to his mouth. Now he noticed the swaying. Nothing was worse than a broken arm, sea sickness, and Siren Sickness precations all at once.

Peter clambered out of bed and reached for the first bucket he could find. After spilling his guts, he leaned his head on his hand and took a few deep breaths. A hand touched his back gently and started rubbing. “You good there, kid?” a familiar voice asked.

“Jus’ the waves,” he mumbled back.

“Hmm.” The hand stopped rubbing and patted him a few times. “If that’s the case, I think a drink and some sleep will help. C’mon, up you go.” With Tony’s help, Peter stood and a few minutes later he was back in bed. “No dreaming about mermaids,” Tony joked.

“No promises. Maybe I’ll dream about you as a merman,” Peter joked back.

A soft laugh and then a “Get some sleep, Pete,” along with some rustles alerted Peter that Tony settled back into bed himself.

As soon as he clears me, Peter thought, I’m gonna find a way to contact (Y/N) and apologize. Before he knew it, he drifted off.

Part 8