#apologies in advance i wasn’t even aware of how much i made

[midascrow]

Great Minds Think Alike

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

synopsis: Alastor is jealous of his own shadow.

a/n: The reader is portrayed as being pretty smart and into science and stuff. I like the idea of Alastor being fond a character who’s pretty intelligent, he finds them fascinating and likes seeing how they tick. Also this might be a little rushed I apologize in advanced!

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

Alastors shadow is a traitor and a fake.

That’s what the man himself believes anyway, whilst he watches HIS shadow flutter around you, a wide smile trying far too hard to appear innocent on its face, as it helps you reach an especially high set stack of papers.

“Oh! Thank you so much…” Your sweet, melodic voice trailed off into an unsure note, not quite aware of how you should address the shadow that’s…ears(?) Twitched and wiggled, eyes(??) squinting back at you as it danced across the walls.

The radio demon wasn’t the least bit sure what had caused his shadows sudden bout of rebel, or why it had seem to take a special interest in you of all people.

Not that there was anything wrong or displeasing about you. Actually it was quite the contrary. Alastor found your company to be far more pleasant than most of the hotels staff and inhabitants.

You were awfully kind for a sinner. And not quite in the same realm of naivety that was the princess’s kindness.

You were smart. Clearly. Always aware of what went on around you and the neighboring spaces. Hardly had you been known to be caught off guard by the entrance of another, nor had you ever bumped into any of the sinners contrary to how the group seemed to enjoy clumping around each other in the foyer during special…”redemption” activities.

You were even so aware as to avoid any touch with the inhabitants of the hotel, including Alastor himself.

And while he wasn’t a very large fan of touch himself, even finding that he could appreciate your aversion to it, the demon couldn’t help feeling a little displeased by the lack of power it left him with when you evaded his touches so expertly.

Always stepping just slightly to the side when his hand attempted to connect with your shoulder. Head craning back, just quickly enough to appear natural when he made and effort pinch your cheeks condescendingly.

Frankly..it was frustrating.

And despite all that, despite all your evasions of the radio demon….here you were, practically-!-canoodling with his own shadow!!

“Oh..! You’re so sweet..” Red ears flopped and twitched, while his eyes narrowed. Alastor could not believe he was being made to watch this…disgusting display of treason.

You giggled softly, hand brushing along an invisible form, as the shadow curled around your own. You watched with a smile as your shadowed hand fell into the hair of the deers, only to gasp when met with the soft sensation of hair beneath your finger tips.

“Oh my…so you’re tangible..?” The shadow nodded vigorously, bumping its head into your palm before grabbing your wrist and laying a gentle kiss to your hand. With that smug fucking grin.

A static screech echoed in the parlour, turning the heads of the incoming dwellers, prompting them to gap at the twitching and seething demon.

And oh, was he seething.

You were far too curious for your own good frankly. So eager to dissect and experiment in what ever had caught your eye. Magic, contracts, demons, anything you could possibly find you wanted to study.

And Alastor was known to be one of the more enthusiastic individuals who indulged in your fascination. Encouraged it even.

Angel had often joked about the way he seemed to preen and puff up in pride whenever he dropped a newly disembodied sinners corpse at your feet, seemingly delighted in your ecstatic gasp of approval.

Which was…another thing. Redemption. Did you want to be redeemed? You’d hardly spoke of it. Sure, you participated in the trust exercised that the princess set up, but nearly everyone had to regardless. Perhaps you were too fascinated with the underworld to truly even think about the idea of redemption.

Alastor himself knew he wouldn’t, nor could he ever be redeemed. And frankly, the idea of you being thrown up to those pearly gates made his insides squirm in the most horrible way.

But that’s not something he wanted to ponder on right now. Not as he practically teleported to your side, shooting his shadow a sneer that it had the nerve to return, as he bent slightly over your shoulder. “My dear! What is it that has currently caught your eye this fine evening?”

When your eyes snapped to his own, he could practically feel the static buzz around him pleasantly, a smug shine in his eyes having successfully stolen your attention from that accursed shadow.

“Alastor! I was just…uh..chatting I suppose with your shadow! He’s been very helpful today. Did you send him?”

No-“Why yes! I did my dear. I figured it wouldn’t help to lend you a helping hand this night, after all you’ve been such a joy around the hotel since your arrival!”

The shadow swished and darted around, vigorously shaking its heads and hands in a way to catch your attention, but a small tap of alastors can to the floor sent it dissipating back to his feet with a displeased hiss.

“I simply could not stop myself from assisting the lovely little sinner that had come into the arms of our sweet little hotel.”

His smile twitched and stretched at the sight of your shiny flattered gaze, that darted across his face with the same awe you exuded when coming upon a new bit of information you had to uncover. A new mystery.

Perhaps Angel had a point. Prior to before…he could feel the way his back straightened..the way his ears stood tall and proud, and the tail of his coat shifted just slightly. The Radio Demon could not deny the pride that fluttered into his dead heart and seeped into his flesh.

Even as he hummed about a new species of sinner he had stumbled upon. Even as he watched with somewhat softer eyes as you gasped and leaned just the slightest bit into his space, eyes alight with interest. Even as his dark shadow like tentacles darted beneath his feet and out the door, in search of a new test subject to grab- just for you.

Even as his hand touched the dip between your shoulders blades, when he led you towards his room for a refreshing lunch before your next scientific session.

Alastor could not deny,

He and his shadow were one and the same.



[notanactressyayy]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭. | natasha romanoff

. ݁₊ 𝑠𝑢����𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . Natasha and you were the only 'constant' in each other's lives. poor you, to think you could get over her so easily.

. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — making out, g!p Natasha, guided masturbation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (p in v), choking, swearing, homesickness, fluff, reconciliation.

. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english isn't my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. been in love w Nat for a damn long time — i've been away for a while, but turns out i can't really live without her. i miss my red so much :(

Natasha Romanoff rarely had the chance to see the same face twice. She saw a lot of people throughout her life — as a spy, as a superhero, or simply as Natasha. The thing is: it was unlike she would return to a place she’s been before. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be on the run. Thus, she traveled around the whole world, and saw thousands, millions of different faces. Destiny made sure not to let her cross paths with the same individual again. It wasn’t only the diversity of people that she witnessed, though. This woman saw the world. She knew life’s ups and downs, and at some point in her life, she just got used to the idea that it would forever be like this: boring. Boring experiences, boring women, boring men, boring relationships. Nothing was ever exciting, thrilling. It felt like she was advanced in time, and the rest of the world wasn’t following her. This wasn’t a complete lie, she got her maturity at a very young age, which made her pay the price now, in adulthood. 

For a spy, the most important thing is to learn not to be caught off guard. But it seemed like life was never on Natasha’s side. And this time — it felt good. Oh, it felt so good. 

At first, she didn’t want to get high hopes. It would be just another temporary friendship to help her pass time, nothing more. However, you managed to surprise the red haired Avenger in the best way possible. When she decided to spare a little time of her life and get to know you more, it was really mind-blowing the side of herself she discovered. She never thought she could actually be.. giddy. Like a silly, hopeless romantic girl. That is what she became whenever it was time to see you. She got excited. Actually excited. She couldn’t see through you, read your emotions or body language, like she did with other people; It was a natural thing, sometimes she didn’t even mean to do that. But you, something within you, kept her at bay. Like you effortlessly turned Natasha into a normal woman. Somebody who could love. Somebody that wasn’t raised and enhanced to be a killer. Not that you went through anything like she did, but you weren’t naive. You showed her that people didn’t necessarily have to be traumatized to be aware of things, of reality, of the surroundings. And for her, you’re the most beautiful person in the whole world. Inside and out. She adored you. 

Opening up was never easy. Revealing the broken parts of herself wasn’t like having a simple chat. But patience is a virtue and thankfully, you followed that say just fine. Little by little, the secrets came out. Most of the parts you already knew — it’s not like she wasn’t a worldwide known superhero. What you mostly had to acknowledge were her feelings, the point of view of the little girl who was experiencing it all, and becoming a strong woman, with built up walls around her heart. Doing that was no problem. Natasha couldn’t be more thankful. 

She couldn’t be more infatuated. More in love.

She’d always remember that one day: in the bar with her team, and you — chattery, music, tons of drinks and laughter. Stolen glances. Stomach butterflies, wild. The moment Clint pulled Laura a little closer to himself, and Tony kissed Pepper’s cheek. How she used that as an excuse to pull you into her lap. Your breath getting labored. Eyelashes gently fluttering, to the point she could count them. Your gentle yet tight grip on her shoulders. Your goddamn eyes staring right into hers. And the part where everything would change: her own bodily reactions to all those little details about you. When you restlessly shifted on her lap, quietly gasping when something poked you through your dress. Eyes going wide at the bulge showing on her black jeans. 

From that point on, you belonged to her.

Or so, she thought.

The sex was great, but she was in conflict — she couldn't tell if the only reason for it to be that enjoyable was because you were both tipsy, almost drunk, or if it was really meant to be that way. It felt right, yes, to have you in her arms like this — naked, piles of discarded clothes laying by her bed.. the sound of your quiet snoring as you cuddled into her. It was also a relief to her. To have someone care for her, desire her, after so long, after forever. The night had been amazing. She was a mature woman anyway, wasn't she? She could sort her feelings out without messing up everything.

Wrong. By the morning, everything would change.

You stared at her as she got up and got dressed again, eyes still a little blurry from sleep, eyebrows ceasing into a small confused frown. "You're not staying?" you'd ask, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, bringing up the sheets to cover your unclothed body. "Ugh, my head hurts like hell,"

"Got things to do." she simply answered, cradling the side of your face and kissing your forehead. You could swear the look on her face was.. apologetic. She tilted her head towards the nightstand, where some aspirin and water waited for you. "Take these. I'll text you later."

"Okay.." you mumble, disoriented. As she leaves, you reach out, shoving the aspirin in your mouth and downing the pills with water. Was there something you were missing? Because all you could remember was how good her hands felt on you, the way they wrapped around you neck while she—

You shook your head, lying down again, and closing her eyes. All the fun and pleasure you had been given from the previous night was slowly vanishing and being replaced by a feeling of uncertainty and confusion. Natasha was an enigmatic person, okay, but you thought you knew her better. She had no reason to leave you just like that, especially when she had already vented about all her past experiences, flaws and failures. Nah, it was probably nothing, you were overthinking. Perhaps she indeed had something important to take care of. You closed your eyes as fatigue took over, and slept for a little bit more.

Natasha went back to her apartment — one of her apartments, and for the whole day, her thoughts ran like crazy. Her emotions were all over the place. She had just fucked her best friend, the one person she felt comfortable and at ease with. She considered her feelings carefully; this.. dinamic, between you two, had not been platonic for a considerable amount of time. But not being platonic doens't necessarily means being romantic. It could either be love, or lust. What happened the day before was carnal, once the two of you were way too much in a drunken haze to actually feel anything.

And, like always, Natasha didn't want to think about falling in love. She felt scared just by thinking about this. It was a new territory, one she wasn't willing to deep dive in. So she took her phone and deeply sighed, opening her chat with you.

"Yesterday was fun. But I need some time. I don't think this can work. Hope you're doing okay. xx"

That text just completely shattered you.

You had no idea what you did wrong. It was not like Natasha was pushing you away forever — but while being with her, the only thought running through your mind was: I wanna be with her. I wanna explore this with her. And Natasha didn't give a single sign that she thought the opposite. You felt... disappointed. With yourself and her. For hoping.

Yeah, getting involved with an ex kgb Avenger killer spy probably wasn't the best idea.

You wouldn't simply forget everything you shared together, so the easiest way here not to create a big tension was.. being fake. The two of you weren't stupid, you were aware of the unspoken feelings going on. But what happened that night should not happen again. So your friendship was what prevailed. A friendship like the start. But obviously, with a few changes. Natasha and you didn't lose touch — on the contrary, you were closer than ever. You spoke and flirted (a lot), but with one small rule, a rule that you subconsciously added to this.. situationship. No feelings involved. It would be singularly that. Friends, some casual hookups, and nothing else.

It didn't last, because that's not what you both wished, longed for.

Little by little, this turned boring again. Not that you were the boring one and she just didn't realize this before. Far from that. The thing was: Natasha and you were supressing your feelings, consequently, supressing all the thrill, the delicious tension that hanged in the air whenever she, once again, crossed paths with you. The russian wanted nothing more than just grab you and kiss you hard, pour all the emotions that she kept bottled up throughout her life into the kiss. But unfortunately, she couldn't. She had a duty to fullfil, as someone born, destined to save the world.

And with all of this, you and her settled a distance. You with your previous and trivial life, and her, saving little girls from bad guys, and bringing down cats from tall trees. It was truly shocking: one day, you lived for Natasha Romanoff. She was your everything and everything you'd ever want. In a blink of an eye, it ended. You followed your paths, like two completely different people, with different purposes.

Right person, wrong time.

Fool her, to think she could get over you that easily. Poor you, to try and put that inside of your head as well.

Sometimes, when normally doing daily tasks, you would catch yourself thinking about her — when you were going to watch TV and put your legs on the coffee table, instead of simply sitting. It was an habit of hers. Or when eating something with peanut butter. It was her favourite late night snack. When it rained. She liked to watch the rain. With somebody else's hands on you. It wasn't right. It was never right to have somebody else touch you. You were constantly thinking about your life before things with her changed — the memories brought comfort, a sense of nostalgia.. at some point, you weren't living in the present anymore. Just faking. Faking your feelings. Pretending it was okay to let her go.

This woman ruined you for everything and everyone else.

Natasha could relate to that. In a life that could be resumed in one word: a 'whirlwind' of a life, and you were her only 'constant' among all of this... she couldn't bear this anymore.

So she made an important decision.

The decision was today.

Today: she'd take you out again, praying that, if not reconciliation, she wanted at least to say everything she had to say. Because if life taught her one thing, was to make choices that she wouldn't regret in the future. And it was damn right she would regret choosing not to meet you tonight.

Sitting in the stool of the bar, in a more secluded corned, her eyes followed your figure as you approached — purse hanging on your shoulder, dress exposing your back and a little bit of your waist, eyes so awfully soft and gentle as you looked at her. It wasn't fair. A pang of guilt hit her hard. Oh, she regretted letting that go. She wanted you to be mad at her. But you were not. She shakily rises to her feet to kiss your cheek as you stand in front of her, thankfully not stumbling. Your eyes lock again, already in a trance. Just like that other day.

"How are you doing?" you ask. Natasha could cry. She missed that voice everyday. "Did I take too long? I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't worry." she swallows hard. You both sit on the stools by the countertop. When the bartender comes, the redhead dismisses him. She wanted the two of you sober for this. "I'm... so much better now that you're here, honestly. How about you?"

"Amazing." you chuckle, tilting your head to the side and watching her. She didn't change a bit. Hair braided, black jeans, leather jacket. That was your Natasha. "I didn't expect you calling me here, to be honest..—"

"Me neither." she admits, in a whisper. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, eyes involuntarily starting at your mouth. She sighs and looks into your eyes. "But I had to... I can't get you off my mind."

Her sincerity never fails to amaze you. With each second that passes, the butterflies in your tummy return, to remind you of the past — feelings and sensations resurfacing. You bite on your bottom lip and look around the bar, quickly scanning to see if there was anybody paying attention to the two of you. Maybe a few eyes here and there, which didn't linger. Everyone else was too busy minding their own business — and it's not like you'd care if someone was staring anyway. Natasha turned some heads. You felt greedy for that. You were the one having her. The only one having her.

"You live in my head rent free, Natasha." you tell her, voice having a sultry edge to it. You slowly stand, walking closer.

You take her hands and open her arms — making it possible for you to straddle her thigh. She tenses almost immediately. Her head tilts up to stare into your eyes, arms circling your waist to keep you close, where she wanted. You shake your head when you see a small frown between her eyebrows — lips pressing against that small spot, coaxing a little exhale of hers. She missed you. Everyday. Every minute. She wanted that respect and care all the time.

"What are we even doing here?" she whispers, so quietly you almost can't hear it. Her hands cup your waist and gently roam up and down your sides, palms brushing against your bare skin every now and then, all thanks to the waist slits of your dress. Your face leans closer to hers, noses bumping — the smallest of touches, making you both crave what you once had. "Why didn't I just invite you to my place right away?"

"I don't know. Why didn't you?" you raise one eyebrow, fingertips caressing her jawline. Her hands give your waist a squeeze — and you almost moan. She swore she could hear it. It replayed in her head, the beautiful sounds you made for her. She wanted to hear them again. She was going to make you sound like that again.

It wasn't just a physical thing — your body and mind craved her touch, her presence, so much that just the mere thought of being on her bed again got you soaked. She felt something wet through the rough fabric of her jeans, and that got her brain spinning. She fell for you hard. So painfully hard.

"Let's get out of here," she groans, hands firmly grabbing your thighs and lifting you up — wrapping your legs around her waist and carrying you out the pavement. Her hardness pressed right against your core — you blushed, hiding your face on her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her neck.

In a heartbeat, you were back at your house.

Your place, because it was the fastest way, when taking the cab. No words were exchanged, not yet. The aching, burning need had to be taken care of first — before properly talking. Your back hits the wall hard as Natasha pushes you against it — her body trapping you between herself and the hard surface — hands hardly, possessively holding you by the hips. Desperately, even. Making sure you wouldn't slip away from her grasp. Her lips dance with yours, tentatively, yet naturally, tongues tasting one another after what felt like centuries. She felt so good, tasted so good.

"Nat..—" you moan against her lips, having her bottom lip trapped between your teeth, then releasing it. Your forehead against hers, eyes soft and filled with desire. Your hands hold her cheeks, traveling to her jaw. Needily, you press kisses to the side of her throat, breathing shaky, heart hardly thrumming. "I never stopped thinking about you..."

"Yeah?" she hums, grabbing the hem of your dress and lifting it up, bunching the fabric by your hips. Her fingers hook around the elastic of your panties and pull them down, pooling around your feet — making you gasp, and pull away from her neck. Eyes wide open. The air hits your heat, making you needier for her.

You almost mewl.

"God, I need you." Natasha utters. She grabs you again and smashes her lips against yours once more, now with so much more passion, more need, more anxiety. Her bulge presses against your now unclothed wetness, coaxing a tiny cry of need out of you. You breathlessly pull away from her, reaching down and fumbling with the buttons of her jeans — until she stops you.

"No—"

"Quiet." she shushes, maneuvering you back, until your body hits the mattress. She climbs onto the bed and stays in a kneeling position, hungrily taking you in. Messy, needy, all for her. Sober, like she wanted planned from the first time. "That dress goes off."

Her voice is commanding, yet not harsh — and her eyes betray her a little. Her eyes are almost pleading, that it is clear how much she needs this. To have you all to herself, to show you how much she wants that. Her underwear becomes even more tight as she sees your trembling fingers, pulling the dress over your head and tossing it aside, lips parted. Just by her look, you can tell she wants the bra off, too. So you reach behind your back and grants her silent wish, breasts now exposed to her sight.

"There you are..." she moans to herself, shamelessly taking in the sight of you. You're a work of art. With her hand, she coaxes your knees open, and parts your legs. "My... you're so wet. So perfectly wet."

"You're still with a lot on.." you quietly complain, feeling hot and shy at the same time. But her gaze is enough to wipe away the confusion from your eyes. She had a plan.

"Touch yourself for me." she breathes out.

Your eyes briefly widen with the unexpectedness of this statement. You had certainly done this before — touched yourself thinking of her — but the idea of showing this, while she watched, never crossed your mind. But it wasn't an unpleasant idea. It was actually... hot. Sensual. They darken, pupils blown wide as you make yourself comfortable against the pillows, eyelids fluttering as your legs spread a little more, palm resting on your stomach, then moving down. Deliberately, it reaches your sex, a shakily sigh leaving your lips when your middle and ring finger collect some of the slick coat covering your sensitiveness, using it to slowly rub your clitoris, getting you to gasp louder.

"Natasha..." you whisper, eyes falling close, thoughts wandering.

Wandering back to the start — when you first discovered your feelings for her, then the climax, when you both got in bed due the alcohol — then the aftermath, when you needed her so much, felt so alone at night, that your fingers were the only solution. Little wet sounds echo within the room as you rub circles on yourself, applying just the right amount of pressure, that it doesn't take long for the pit in your stomach to manifest itself.

"Faster." Natasha rasps out, taking her jacket and quickly throwing it away. She pulls her tank top over her head, then undo the buttons of her jeans — leaving the bed, just so she can get rid of all the uncomfortable fabric, and climbing it again. She crawls closer to you — eyeing you as you worked on your pussy, her hands caressing your thighs, adding to the stimulation.

"Please...!" you whimper, doing as you're told — rubbing yourself faster — slipping one of your fingers inside your entrance, almost cumming, that quickly. "Please, I need you..!"

"I need you too," she moans to herself, and harshly grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away. You moan loudly in protest — Natasha wouldn't tease you. Not today, when you both needed each other so much. She discards her undergarments, finally — groaning as she's set free. Your eyes lock on her hard length, which was practically hitting her abs now.

"Put it inside me." you beg, grabbing her shoulders to pull her closer. She hovers over you, bracing herself on her forearms, on each side of your body. Your fingernails gently graze her back. Natasha was feeling so much, so much more than she ever felt. Your eyes were sparkling so much, like you were crying — shimmering with the depth of your adoration for her. You grab her cheeks and press your lips to hers, in a gentle peck. Knowing her past, she didn't have to explain her reasons for what had happened. She was scared before, and you respected. "Go on. Love me."

She couldn't wait no longer. She lowers her forehead to your shoulder and places her hands on your hips — her chest against yours, as she lined herself with your hole, effortlessly pushing inside. Stretching you out, like she once did. Having the chance to hear that delicious sounds again.

"You're mine... shit," she groans, rolling into you gently, getting you used to the feeling first. You're so tight, so perfect around her. Natasha's overwhelmed. Her hands press against the base of your throat, squeezing firmly, yet leaving enough room for air. She's so hot. "That pussy is mine. You're mine. You're all mine—"

"Yes," you moan, wrapping your legs around her middle. You wouldn't take long to come tonight. Maybe she'd make you come over and over. She rocks into you, pace not too slow, not too fast. Just right. The right tempo to bring you both the pleasure and connection you so much needed. "Mhm.. fuck, Nat, missed your cock,"

"You're gonna take it over and over—" she comments — kissing your shoulder, roaming her hands up your body, her right palm cupping your breast and giving it a firm squeeze. Your head lolls back, mouth opening to allow a satisfied moan out. "I'm never fucking letting you go again,"

She accelerates, pulling almost all the way out just to slam back into you again — feeling her climax approach. She moves her mouth close to your ear and moans — her own sounds now mixing with yours.

"Natasha...! Fuck, you feel soo good," you gasp, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you get closer. She takes the hint immediately, cupping the back of your knee and pushing it up, allowing her a better angle. "Ah, gimme more,"

"My greedy girl," she groans, her head tilting back. Her cock twitches inside of you — precum already painting you white. She glanced down at where your folds swallowed her, eyes darkening impossibly more. "You're so goddamn tight... 'm not gonna last, moya krasivaya malysha,"

"Okay.. 'ts okay... Cum with me..." you beg her, tangling your fingers into her red strands of hair, pulling her down more, so her forehead rests against yours — the eye contact increasing the intimacy of the moment. She didn't know what to expect now. Didn't know what to think. Only that she had to fill you up.

"C'mon.. nhg, darling.. c'mon.. cum around me," she encourages, feeling her own legs shake as her orgasm washed over her.

She grabbed your hips hard and slammed into you — once, twice, three times, filling you up with her hot release. You squeezed your eyes shut as your body shuddered forwards, breasts pressing against her own as a long, strangled moan flowed out of you, nails digging into her back, pressing her body against yours as you finished. Your walls clenched around her cock, swallowing her more, not allowing her to pull away just that. "God.. I love you!"

Natasha blinks, not sure if she heard right. Her heart squeezes in her chest, arms wrapping around your body. Her back hits the bed and she flips you on top of her, still inside of you — but now, her member softened. The adrenaline was running wild, but you had calmed down a little bit. Just a little. Because this time, it wasn't pure sex. It was lovemaking.

Your face is buried in her chest as she brings up the covers, creating a cocoon of warmth around you. She buries her face into your hair and inhales deeply, staying silent. Just to process things.

"I love you, too. So so much." she murmurs into you hair. She felt terrified to say this. But once you're someone who she already showed her scars to, it's not that bad anymore.

"You do?" you ask expectantly, feeling tired, drowsy. Natasha smiles at that. She feels her eyes burning with heavy emotion. She nods.

"Yes... I love you so much." she confirms, softly stroking her hair, brushing some strands away from your sweaty forehead. "And I want you to be mine. Will you be mine?"

"You're asking me to be your girlfriend after the sex?" you chuckle quietly, but happiness was evident in your voice. Now you could sleep at peace. The first night of rest you'd have in a long time. In the arms of the woman you cherished, worshipped.

Natasha had won now. She was so fucking relieved. All because of a phrase.

"Of course I will, you idiot."

"I'm never, ever, ever letting you go again." the room is messy, smell of sex lingering around you. But now things were sorted out. By the morning, you could have a more direct, serious conversation. For now, you'd rest together, wrapped up in each other's arms, like it was always meant to be.

[bringthekaos]

I'm excited for your thoughts on the new season if/when you share them

It has legit taken me 3 days to come to terms with Act 1. Enough to be able to speak about it. Gunna apologize in advance for the wall of text, and I’m hiding it under a break for spoiler reasons. Also prefacing with these are all just my opinions. All are free to disagree with me and RB with discussions/theories etc. just don’t be a dick about it, I’m not engaging in any discourse.

Ok. So. I have mixed feelings, and I’m aware that this is because I don’t have the whole story yet. So this is all contingent on how the rest of the season plays out.

First and foremost, I’m… wildly swinging back and forth between love and disappointment for Viktor’s arc. So first the negative, and I’ll try to keep it brief because a lot of people have already expressed this and I don’t need to be beating that particular dead horse.

Viktor has had his agency, his bodily autonomy, his original ideas and nearly everything that made him Viktor stripped away. Nothing so far has been his choice. And while this could have worked just fine for an original character, he wasn’t. So there is a massive disconnect between what this character was/should have been. In League, it was all his choice (albeit with a healthy dose of mental illness thrown in, but still). AND it was very heavily suggested that many of the augmentations he performed weren’t as extensive as he lead everyone to believe (namely the controlling/dousing of his emotions). But it appears that whatever the Hexcore did to him, it’s real. He is clearly having a difficult time accessing his emotions, and if he can feel anything, it is limited to the point of him being completely stoic. And the thing with stoic characters is that you obliterate any emotional payoff for the audience. It’s very hard to make an audience feel an emotional connection to a character’s story arc when they themselves don’t feel anything (I have a theory about this though, but I’ll address it a little later in this post). And then there is the issue of Blitzcrank. Blitz was Viktor’s whole world, after his exile. How are they going to swing that? Like, I’m not even asking for Blitz to be in Arcane (that would be great, but I really don’t think they have time). But I stg if they take Blitz away from Viktor, make them someone else’s invention (my suspicion is Heimer or he finds the idea in Sky’s journal)… I’m sorry but no. This was Viktor’s idea, Viktor’s genius. I will genuinely be extremely upset if they take that from him too.

Then there is the whole situation with Sky. First, this girl was fridged. She was nothing but a plot device and continues to be just that. It feels hollow and forced, especially now that he’s hallucinating her as some sort of penance for what he did. (I have seen the prevalent theory that it’s the Hexcore using her image and his guilt to manipulate him, given that it “ate” her, and we have seen it “manipulate” him before when it punished him for trying to destroy it). But back to Sky—he barely acknowledged that poor girl. The reason for that can be argued, whether it’s because he’s gay or because he was just so wrapped up in his one-track minded research. But regardless, there just wasn’t enough setup between those two for this whole thing to have as much weight and meaning as I think it’s supposed to. Honestly to me (TO ME) it reeks of comphet. It feels like that random woman they threw at Poe Dameron to No Homo him. I’m not even asking for Jayvik canon. But the creators were well aware of this ship, after all it’s the second most popular ship in this show and it’s been around since 2012 when Jayce was literally created for Viktor. I’m asking for the bare minimum here—that it’s left open-ended as it was in League, open for interpretation.

Last negative I have is the whole Viktor Jesus thing. The first problem is I am pretty violently agnostic, and messiah narratives have never spoken to me. I don’t enjoy them, they feel weak. The whole “ordained by a higher power” thing is just… stale. Especially when this character originally had no higher power, he gave it to himself through his own hard work and ingenuity. Honestly, Viktor’s original arc is about as far from a Jesus allegory as you can possibly get. And I am absolutely terrified that they’re going to end said Jesus arc the way you’d expect—with him dying for it. Which leaves the moral of his story “disabled man should have just accepted that he was going to die despite the fact that it was the oppression and xenophobia of Piltover that left him out to dry, without proper health care, accessibility, equality, or equity that lead to his terminal diagnosis to begin with.” Which is a very oppressor-centric narrative and we do not need another one of those.

Sorry, I know I said I’d keep the negatives brief, and that was… not. My bad. But moving on!

I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, I did. I am working to embrace this new Viktor narrative and work it into my brain in a way that doesn’t ruin the ship for me. So without further ado, the positives.

Jayce.

Jayce.

Jayce.

I’d have to go back and time it, but it feels like he got more screen time in this first act than the entirety of the first season combined, and his character shined for it. It humanized him in ways season one never did. He’s caring, he’s devoted, and he loved Viktor! No matter what kind of love you think it is, it proves he loved Viktor without a doubt. He carried Viktor several city blocks to the lab to save him, and then YES, he broke his promise about the Hexcore because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing him!

And he’s funny! (The scene where he picks up the regular sized hammer in the fight against Renni and made that “this is ironic” face?? And then basically the entire interaction with Ekko? The hand me a tome thing, and then when he basically pulled this when Ekko suggested “so this is all your fault cuz you pissed off the Arcane”:

GOD that shit was great. Jayce’s personality just shined, and maybe it’s too much to hope, but maybe this will douse a little of the hate. Because instead of being a subtle hint at all of those things being true about him, it’s now overt. And when people lack media literacy, the hints have to be overt.

And th-the. The h. The HUG SCENE. I don’t think I will ever emotionally recover from that scene. Starting with Viktor who, despite being clearly emotionally—I dunno, vacant I guess—sounded so lost and scared when he said “what am I?” For me, it was whispers of that scene from The Last Unicorn: “what have you done to me?” And my poor sweet Jayce, who clearly hasn’t left this damn lab except to go to Cassandra’s memorial. Sleeping on the desk and bleeding through his bandages because he doesn’t want to spend a moment away from Viktor while he “recovers.” And his euphoric response when he finds Viktor alive, when he realizes he hasn’t lost him. And I OWE HIM AN APOLOGY, goddamn. I said in a post that “Jayce will not understand.” I thought that was how Arcane was gunna start the divorce. But Jayce genuinely did not care, as long as his lover friend was alive. And just… Jayce being so affectionate through this entire scene. The hug obviously, but also blurting things he thought he’d never get to say to Viktor—“I’m resigning from the council, my place was always here in the lab with you.”

And… the hug itself. I know we’re all analyzing it frame by goddamn frame, but I see exactly what everyone else sees—there is a moment where Viktor very subtly smiles. But it’s gone in an instant, and it turns bittersweet. LOOK AT HIM.

There is something there, it’s just buried. Deep beneath the surface. It seems to say “I want this, I have wanted this for so long.” But then he realizes something, something I don’t think we’re meant to understand yet. Maybe that he doesn’t feel anything about it anymore, and he recognizes that this should upset him and it doesn’t. Or perhaps it’s something more along the lines of “it’s too late.” Whatever it is, I think this is the exact moment he knows he has to walk away. Because he knows he’ll cave to the affection, he said it himself. (Which is another thing entirely. His voice changes when he says that. Something in him is reacting to that word. Maybe he’s fighting against it, or maybe he’s fighting to get it back. But something made him almost growl that word.)

Which leads me to my final thought (for this post anyway, cuz it’s turning into a novel); Viktor is still in there. He can still feel things, I just think they’re extremely muted by whatever the Hexcore did/continues to do to him, or he has to fight to express them. Because he also smiled at the hallucination of Sky after he “cured” Huck. And if he feels nothing, he wouldn’t have been “joyous” at the thought of her being proud of him, approving of the good things he’s trying to do in her memory. He wouldn’t crave that validation, that vindication from her. So I’m hopeful that we start to see this shell crack a little, especially if those visions of Sky are the Hexcore manipulating him through guilt. It will start to erode him, no matter how stoic he has become. And literally the only thing I’m clinging to is that Jayce will see this and try to pull him out. “He’s still in there and I have to save him.” And that maybe it’ll start to work.

[shitgoblindingleberry]

OKAY CAUSE LISTEN. (till character analysis let’s go) (apologies in advance this is LONGG)

if till is actually in love with mizi then there is literally no outcome in which him and ivan are happy.

because 1) he’ll never love ivan as long as mizi is alive, and 2) even if he thinks mizi is dead, ivan will only ever be a rebound, the second choice he turned to when mizi wasn’t an option.

however, i would like for you to consider that maybe, instead, the problem is that till doesn’t know how to properly process or identify his feelings. i would like to propose that maybe he misinterpreted his feelings for mizi as love when in actuality he views her as some unattainable idol to covet but not actually connect with (like parasocial relationships).

meanwhile, ivan was always there for him and slowly became a support system till didn’t even know he had. because even if he didnt feel LOVE for ivan, they definitely had a REAL relationship—arguably more real than anything he ever had with mizi. all of their interactions are just like. much more RAW than anything till ever had with mizi if that makes sense. because all we’ve ever seen him doing with her is admiring from afar and sacrificing things for her in secret that she never asked for, nor wanted from him. while with ivan they actually hung out with absolutely no expectations of anything between them (on till’s side at least. it wasn’t a performative relationship to be this self sacrificing person for ivan like it would’ve been if he were talking to mizi. which is ironically a much more healthy basis for a relationship. to fully see the person as being equal to you without putting them on a pedestal)

i think till’s way of coping with everything was finding someone else outside himself to live for and idolize. his entire life was built around mizi, every choice he made committed with her in mind (like when he chose to stay in the garden rather than escaping for her sake). and once she’s ripped away, he’s left feeling empty and aimless—the center of his very world is no longer there.

HOWEVER.

this is shaken by ivan’s death. even though mizi was always his center, he can’t exactly not be affected by someone who’s been at his side for YEARS. and, unlike with mizi, their bond was definitely real and very much tangible for BOTH sides (despite meaning different things for each of them). but when ivan died FOR him, till felt something that was very real and very confusing which was very much a mixture of raw emotions he wasn't prepared to face feeling from anyone apart from mizi. because while mizi is his ideal, i think his feelings about her were always accompanied by a sense of disconnect because they didnt have any actual basis for this bond beyond till simply yearning for her. but with ivan. they were friends. they trusted each other by this point, and ivan has shown that he cares for till REPEATEDLY throughout them knowing each other. and.

i think till subconsciously acknowledged that ivan was important to him, even if just as a background support in his life. someone he hung out with without thinking about it too much. and i think that sense of care came very gradually too. because ivan is a weird mf but he still managed to worm his way into till’s world, and now he’s a staple there, even if till himself isn’t aware of that.

mainly just my vibe here is that his feelings surrounding ivan are very messy and complicated (as real life emotions tend to be) and that wasn’t what till was looking for when he was younger. he needed something stable, something he could look at and idolize from afar. something he could dedicate his messed up life to without having to worry about other complicated feelings. and that was what mizi was to him. a purpose to live that was unchanging because no matter what till himself did or what happened to him, it didn’t affect HER. and that was comforting. but ivan existed outside of his little ideal. and he was a real person who (unfortunately :/ ) made till feel real things that were outside of his control. which wasnt what he needed when he was younger—he needed stability. but i think in the end he had the most chance of an actual developed, healthy, and consistent relationship with ivan.

that is, if bro wasnt dead 🙏🙏🕊🕊

[rosiegirlie]

Before You Go Performing

summary: When Billie ran away from the circus to serve as a nurse in the WAC she thought that was the end of her entertaining days. She never thought she’d be using her skills to help cheer up a flak happy John Egan, nor did she think that they’d be partly responsible for her life changing for good. // a vague 5+1 sort of deal where some intense eye contact changes everything word count: 23k a/n: I'm a woman obsessed with Rosie and this is the result ! I have more things in the works for this little universe but this is where it all starts for Rosie & Billie. It's not as historically accurate as it could be, so apologies in advance. AO3 part two

Like most nights out with the girls Billie stuck to the walls, electing to keep to herself while the party around her raged on. She preferred the pub in town but she had to admit the officer’s club had it’s perks including more space for her to stick to herself. This was a party unlike any they’d had here on base and rightly so; it was rare a pilot got to the required twenty five missions before going home and Dye’s achievement was worth celebrating. It seemed like every possible person on base and even a couple of their neighbors showed up to join in on the affair. Even though she wasn’t feeling it herself, Billie appreciated the energy filling the air. It was a night of letting loose and living in the moment, for celebrating still being alive. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she looked onto the dance floor from her chair in the corner. 

Her best friend Barbara and their fellow nurse June were on the dance floor with men Billie didn’t recognize. Replacements. Billie hadn’t been aware a new group of them had rolled in but she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. They’d been due for a while now. She scanned the room trying to pick out more men she didn’t recognize. Her eyes came back to June and her man who was all elbows and knees. It didn’t seem like he had a dancing bone in his body but June’s face was brighter, her smile wider than Billie had ever seen. At least someone was having a good night. 

Billie took a deep swig of her drink. There was a time in her life where it would have been her out on the floor having the good night, trying to wrangle a dance partner. Billie was never the life of the party but at least she used to live a little. For some reason it was like her entire personality shifted when she joined up. 

Lieutenant Harry Crosby walked in front of her, a drink in each hand. Seeing him brought an immediate damper to her mood and she tipped her glass back to finish the last of her beer. Crosby had been one of her victims earlier that day and she wondered how bad his arm was bruising. They had been taking blood donations from the men not on mission and Billie made a fool of herself. Again. No matter how hard she tried or practiced Billie just couldn’t get the hang finding the vein in the first go. There were probably plenty on base who wanted to change their mind on donating blood when they saw she was the one working. She didn’t hold it against anyone. Billie knew she wasn’t a good nurse. She scraped by in her training and she’d been keeping her head afloat somehow but for how much longer she didn’t know. Billie’s saving grace was her CO who did her best to schedule Billie in the mornings before and during missions, any shift so she’d be done and out of the way when it was time for the real work to start. If she was lucky she’d get to help out with setting up the coffee and donuts for the Clubmobile, but more often than not it was inventory, stocking, and keeping watch over current patients. The simple things. Maybe that was part of why she didn’t feel like herself anymore. She used to hold her own but now she was the runt of the pack. It wasn’t a fun feeling. Her work was important, she understood that. She knew that there were no small parts and that things could go wrong if she didn’t take her work seriously. It was just that Billie missed having fun. There was nothing fun about the world of blood and trauma. 

Billie looked back at the dance floor. June was still in the arms of her fella, but Barbara was missing. Billie looked around and after a moment found Barbara by the edge of the dance floor practically directly across from her. It looked like she was convincing Lieutenant James Douglass to dance with her. It was an argument the two had almost every time they went out. Routine said Douglass would give in and dance with Barbara but not after she promised a kiss. Billie wondered when they pair would finally commit to something real, this game they’d been playing for months was getting old. Still, a pang of jealousy shot through Billie’s core. She wasn’t looking for anything, wasn’t looking for anyone. But maybe if she was more like other girls it would be easier to distract herself on nights like this. Luckily for Billie it was rare anyone gave her second glance.

The couple to her right had started curling in on each other and Billie figured they were about five minutes away from full on going at it there in public. To give them some privacy Billie decided to get another drink. She knew she shouldn’t but what else was she supposed to do with herself? Besides, it was time to switch back from beer to something harder. If she was going to wallow she might as well be properly smashed to set the mood. She abandoned her seat and wormed her way through the crowd to the bar. 

The only empty spot it seemed was over next to Major John Egan and Billie’s stomach flipped with nerves. Major Egan, or Bucky as she knew he preferred to be called, was a commanding presence. He reminded her of one of her old friends, Charles. Both were charismatic ladies men with a long string of scorned lovers. Both loud and rambunctious, loving to be in the center of attention. Total showoffs. But both also had the skills to match their bravado so Billie was never too bothered by the inevitable antics that followed them around. Her need for a drink pushed her forward to slide into the empty space, pushing through her nerves of embarrassing herself in front of Bucky. Luckily as soon as the thought popped into her head she dismissed it. Even if she did something silly chances were he wasn’t going to remember. And if she kept up her drinking pace she wouldn’t remember either. A win win scenario. 

“What’ll you have, ma’am?” The bartender asked.

“Two whiskeys, please. Thanks” She drummed her fingers along the counter while she waited for her drinks. As soon as the bartender set the drinks down in front of her Billie grabbed one and slammed the it back in one go.

Billie reveled in the way it burned down through her throat. It was nice to feel something. Her brother had been the one to introduce her to whiskey, way back when they were kids. He’d busted into their uncle’s stash and they managed to finish the bottle by the time they’d been caught back behind the horse stalls. Eddie swore they wouldn’t have gotten caught had Billie not gotten sick, startling one of the horses and waking up the lot of them. Their mother had been furious and took no mercy out on them by still making them go to practice bright and early the next morning. The painful practice was worth the memory now that Billie was swallowing her whiskey. The burn hadn’t gotten better over all these years which was something she was grateful for now. She needed it to still feel the same. Billie let out a cough and sucked back a hiss. It’d be a good idea go take it a bit slower with the second glass, just to be safe. She coughed again. 

“You going to be okay there, little lady?” Bucky had turned to look at her. 

“I’m fine.” she smiled reassuringly up at him. “Went down the wrong pipe is all.” 

“Happens to the best of us.” Bucky nodded and turned back to face the back of the bar. 

Billie leaned her elbows against the counter and pulled her glass closer to her. She took a sip and set it back down on the counter, taking the napkin from underneath with her free hand. Her fingers needed something to mess with. She was starting to feel a bit too much of everything. All around her people were living it up. They were dancing, laughing, smoking and drinking and whatever other vice they needed to stay sane. She wished she could be one of them. 

Now that she started thinking about her brother she couldn’t stop. So much for the party being a distraction from the letter she’d gotten that afternoon. Barbara and June had sworn the festivities would take her mind off of it but here she was. Realistically she wasn’t all that surprised that Eddie had signed up. What did hurt was that he waited this long to tell her. He was already in training to be a paratrooper, there was nothing she could do to talk him out of it. Billie couldn’t help but laugh to herself thinking about how he really was always copying her. It had been hard to leave him when she practically ran away from home, one of the hardest things she had ever done. There were some moments when she couldn’t believe she’d actually done it. She should have known that he would want to follow in her footsteps. A mix of emotions filled her when she thought about her brother. She was so proud of him she felt like she could combust and yet she didn’t think she had ever been as scared as she was thinking about him in the thick of it. Billie grimaced to herself and looked down at where she’d been ripping the napkin into little strips. Dye making it to twenty five missions was an incredible thing, Billie really was happy for him. It was just awful that they were there making such a big deal of the one success out of the hundreds they’ve lost. She thought of her brother’s odds and her stomach turned, bile rising up her throat. She coughed again and took another sip of her whiskey to chase the bile down. 

Billie’s little spiral was interrupted by Bucky saying out of nowhere, “I’d kill for something to happen.” 

She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Billie looked around to see if Bucky was really talking to her. She couldn’t remember who she saw on his other side, so maybe the comment was directed at them. Either that or talking to himself she assumed and turned her attention on her whiskey. She decided if the bartender was quick to come back around she’d order another one. Just one more and then she’d switch to water. After all she did have her normal shift first thing tomorrow morning. 

“When was the last time something happened, hmm? When was the last time you could feel something?” Bucky was looking at Billie when she lifted her head and she couldn’t help but blush a little when they made eye contact. But Bucky’s face looked off somehow and Billie felt herself sober up a little. 

“Major? Do you…” she looked around, nervous for some reason. She really didn’t know what to make of his questions. Her training hadn’t covered this sort of thing. “Are you okay?” 

“Peachy, just peachy.” Bucky turned to fully look at her now and his eyes steadied on her face. He was probably just about as drunk as Billie was. He was probably chasing off some of the same demons Billie was running from. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He shot her a look and she let out a laugh, “Silly question. Got it.” 

“What’s your name again?” 

“Billie. Billie James, Sir. I’m a nurse.” 

Bucky nodded, “I thought I’d seen you somewhere.” She highly doubted he had ever looked at her before. No one ever really looked at her anymore. Still, she appreciated the politeness. He took a drink and sighed. He turned slightly towards the bar. 

Something about how Bucky was looking unsettled Billie. She wanted to cheer him up, maybe helping him get out of himself would help her forget about her brother. What would she do if it was Charles here with her instead of Bucky? “Do you want me to go see if the band can play Blue Skies again?” 

“Mighty fine of you to ask, but no need for any special requests.” Bucky took a deep drink. 

She hummed in acceptance even though his answer worried her. It got quiet between them and Billie felt so uncomfortable she swore she was going to burn with it. It was her turn to take a deep drink.

“I’ve always wanted to juggle.” Bucky suddenly said. 

“Excuse me?” Billie was drunk, but not drunk enough to follow along with Bucky’s train of thought. He pointed at the counter in front of her. Billie had been rolling the ripped up scraps of her drink’s napkin into little balls. She picked one up and threw it at Bucky. He swatted it away. 

“I know I’m saying nonsense, can’t help it right now. I’ve seemed to have lost all filter.” Bucky gave a weak version of his normal charming smile. 

“I don’t think that’s quite true, Major. Somehow I think you’re one to never really let go of control.” She found herself rolling her eyes at him as if he really was her friend Charles. She leaned forward and craned her neck to see where the bartender was. Another drink wasn’t the smartest idea but Billie was in the mood for self destruction.

Thinking about Charles and juggling had her remembering the night Charles tried to teach her a new trick while they had been on the tail end of a bender. What a pair of drunk messes the two of them had been, the night had ended with a broken window and running away from the police. “You know, Major, I can juggle.” She blurted out. 

“You can juggle?” The disbelief was palpable in Bucky’s voice. He sounded just like so many of the boys she knew back home. All men seemed the same when they were doubting her, probably sounded the same to any woman. Oh, she was going to love proving him wrong. 

“Of course I can juggle. I wouldn’t just lie to you when you’re looking like that.” Billie snapped, taking a tone she knew in the back of her head she shouldn’t have with someone of his status. Maybe she shouldn’t be acting like he was Charles. But Billie was too far in it to stop now. 

“Looking like what?” he challenged. Already he seemed livelier. 

“Like some sad little kid who needs cheering up.” Billie said simply with a smile. 

“And what would you suggest? Are you offering to try to juggle for me?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow. 

“I won’t have to try, I can do it if I want to.” confidence filled Billie’s voice. 

Bucky laughed and tilted his head to look at Billie. “You really think you can juggle?” 

“I don’t think, I know.” She wagged a finger in his face. “And I don’t like the attitude you’re taking, Major.” She really shouldn’t be talking to him like this but they were talking about juggling and she couldn’t help but get caught up in it. She had to defend her honor. “This is just one of the countless things you men think women can’t handle.”

“I didn’t say anything of the sort!” 

“Sure,” Billie rolled her eyes, “but you were thinking it, weren’t you?” She nudged his arm with hers. “Just teasing. Now, I’ll need a lot of something if I’m going to do it. I mean, if its worth doing it’s worth doing right.” 

“Is that so? And doing it right means juggling more balls?” Bucky waggled his eyebrows at her. 

Billie smacked his arm, rolling her eyes with a groan. “Christ, Major, grow up.” she shook her head. Billie then straightened her shoulders and said, “It doesn’t have to be balls, I can juggle anything.” 

“Anything is a strong claim.” There was even more doubt now in Bucky’s eyes. 

“And guess what? It’s true.” Billie countered. 

“Well now you have to prove it, because I just can’t seem to wrap my head around this. Pretty thing like you doing something like that.” Bucky shook his head in disbelief.

“What do my looks have to do with being able to juggle?” Billie cocked her head to the side. Then she realized that Bucky had paid her a compliment and she couldn’t help but blush. Luckily at this point of being drunk Billie’s face was normally red enough to cover her blush. This was the first time she was thankful for her drunk tell. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be on the receiving end of any advance from Bucky, but it was nice to hear someone thought she was pretty. Even if they were insulting and complimenting her at the same time. 

“You just don’t seem like the type of gal who’d be able to is all.” Bucky explained simply while Billie rolled her eyes again. 

“I feel insulted but I’m going to move past it.” She finished off her drink and couldn’t help but wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. Maybe it made her look more like someone who knew how to juggle. “Let’s settle on what I’m juggling first off.” Billie looked around the room. 

There were so many things happening around her that Billie couldn’t help but feel comforted. She’d grown up somewhere like this, always loud and full of people letting loose. She was at home in the chaos, especially now that there’d been a challenge. She had her pride to protect, her honor to uphold. 

She was eyeing the group playing darts when Bucky said, “Glasses, easy.”

Billie turned her head to look at Bucky holding up her empty rocks glass. Better that than his empty pint glass. He gestured his head at the other empty glasses bunched up in front of them on the bar. Glasses, now that was an idea. Billie picked up her glass back up and gave it a light toss. Not as bottom heavy as she thought. 

She smiled up at Bucky. “Glasses are perfect. I need some sort of rag, though.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t want your backwash to make me lose my grip is why.” Billie scrunched her nose in disgust. 

Bucky let out a bright laugh. “Fair enough. How about clean glasses?” 

“Either works.” Billie shrugged nonplussed.

“How many?” 

Billie studied the glass in her hand.”How about four. Do you think I can handle four?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, lips pursed in a smirk. 

“That feels like a trick question.” Billie flashed a wicked grin in response and Bucky laughed. “Okay, you’re going to juggle four glasses. Now how about we settle some stakes and make a real bet out of this whole thing. Personally, I wouldn’t mind a kiss.” He leaned in closer to Billie. 

Billie had been expecting that and rolled her eyes with a smile. “When do you not want a kiss from someone? And I don’t want anything from you. Just to prove you wrong.” 

“You wound me!” he playfully slapped his hand to his chest. “Come on, there must be something a pretty gal like you would want from someone like me.” He leaned an arm out to rest on the bar countertop. Billie felt herself grow hot under his stare. She suddenly understood the long line of heartbroken girls she’d watched over the last couple of months. Something about Bucky was mesmerizing. She couldn’t help but think about how easy he’d be to love. 

“A pack of smokes.” She blurted out and the look of confusion that crossed Bucky’s face made her smirk. He hadn’t been expecting his subtle advance to be turned down. 

“That’s a hefty ask.”

“Then you shouldn’t make silly bets.” 

“Alright I’ll bite. You’re on, Billie. And now it’s too late to back out of a kiss when I win.” He winked at Billie then stood up from the bar counter. “Gather round now boys, our very own nurse Billie is going to put on a little show.” Bucky called out over the music. 

“Major!” Billie snapped and lightly smacked Bucky’s arm. 

She hadn’t wanted to draw that much attention to herself but after thinking about it for a moment she shrugged it off. She’d handled worse tricks in worse states. Had she really expected Bucky to keep it a quiet ordeal? There was nothing that man could do quiet. Already eyes were on her, wondering what on earth she could do to entertain them. She started to feel hot, the skin on the back of her neck itching where it rubbed against her jacket. She needed to cool down and get out of her jacket even if just for a minute. She straightened herself up from leaning against the bar.  

“I’m going to get myself sorted then I’ll be over to prove you wrong, okay?” she gestured her head to the bathroom.

“We’ll see about that.” Bucky grinned at her as he gave her a nod.

By some miracle the bathroom was empty when Billie entered. Immediately she took off her jacket and began to fan herself. She needed to cool down. Billie looked at herself in the mirror and was suddenly struck by trying to picture herself from an outsider’s perspective. Small, red faced, long mousy brown hair that was starting to escape the sculpted curls the girls had worked so hard on. Barbara was going to be so sad her work was for naught. Billie itched to tie it all back but she didn’t have anything with her. But really all she could focus on was her arms. She raised her arms and flexed. There was no denying it: she was losing her muscles and she didn’t know how to feel about that. 

After a lifetime of hard work she’d gone soft. Her father’s voice came into her head lamenting about how long it would take her to bounce back once she returned from the war. If she bounced back at all. It had been so long since she properly worked out. Maybe she could talk to Mae about helping her do any heavy lifting on one of her shift next time one lined up with Billie’s off time. The mechanic was always grateful for the help especially if it meant they could trade stories about growing up in the entertainment industry while they worked. Billie sobered up a bit thinking about the last time she’d fallen asleep body aching after helping Mae. She didn’t think it was possible to miss that horrible feeling of muscle exhaustion. She rotated her wrists a couple of times trying to stretch them out. She flexed her fingers. Next were her arms, first across then over her shoulder. She jumped in place a couple of times wishing she wasn’t in uniform. All she needed to do was focus. 

Billie washed her hands and then briefly pressed her wet hands to her face, trying to cool herself down. It worked, or at least she told herself it did, and then her hands went to her hair. There was nothing she could do to bring order back to her hair but at least now she could tell herself she tried. Billie grabbed her jacket to put back on while staring herself down in the mirror. She could do this. It’d been a long time since she’d juggled but she knew the muscle memory would kick in. It had to after all the time she’d spent practicing as a kid. If she made a fool of herself and her dad found out he was sure to take a swing at her. He trained her better than to fail at something so simple. She shook her head to clear the thought and stretched her shoulders back while taking in a deep breath. She exhaled and made eye contact with her reflection again. Billie knew she could do this, she could prove Bucky wrong. 

The door to the bathroom burst open and Barbara came barreling through. Billie was surprised it had taken this long for her best friend to find her. “What’s this I hear about Bucky challenging you to juggle? Do you really know how to juggle?”

“Of course I can juggle,” Billie popped her hip to the side and put her hands on her waist. Striking a pose she said dramatically, “it’s in my blood.” 

Barbara had come over to stand next to Billie and began touching herself up, pulling a tube of lipstick out from her pocket. “Of course it’s in your blood, you carny. I forget all of the silly things you know how to do because you’re so normal.” 

The comment stung but Billie knew better than to make anything of it. She knew Barbara meant well.  

“Well I don’t think it’ll be that hard.” Billie flicked her hair back over her shoulder and squared her shoulders. “It’s only four glasses.” 

“Four? The major is telling people five.” 

Billie thought about it for a moment, “I guess at a point it just becomes a number.” She marched to the door but paused before pulling it open, her hand on the handle. “Am I about to make a fool of myself?” 

Barbara shrugged. “Possibly. But not until after you impress people a little, which I know you’re going to do.” She met Billie’s eyes in the mirror. “You always do this.” Barbara finished touching up her hair and stepped back to take in more of her reflection. 

“Do what?” Billie dropped her hand from the door handle. 

“Pull out these ridiculous things to be good at that make everyone ooh and aww. Its unfair honestly, the fact that you’re not a miserable bitch. It would make dealing with you so much easier.” Barbara said. 

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take that.” Billie couldn’t help but grimace.

Barbara laughed. “It was supposed to be a compliment. I was trying to say you’re nice and good at things not a lot of people are good at which is fun. I like being your friend.” 

Billie swooned and pulled Barbara in for a hug. “I like being your friend too. You’re the only one who doesn’t give me grief about being a miserable nurse.”

“Oh I give you grief too, only difference is you realize I’m joking around. Besides you can’t be good at everything so who cares if you’re not the best nurse on base. Now lets go show up Major Egan with your circus skills” 

When the pair came out of the bathroom Billie realized that Bucky had drawn a small crowd in the back corner of the room. A wave of nausea rolled through her and she let out a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes. And just like that she felt more at home than she had in months. She never would have guessed this would do the trick. 

“Are you okay?” Barbara was at her shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She had no choice but to be fine. Her personal and family pride was on the line. 

A feeling started making itself known deep in Billie, something she hadn’t felt for a long while. It was serious now that the pre-show jitters were kicking in. A laugh threatened to bubble up out of Billie and she had to clench her jaw to keep the sound in. All of these thousands of miles away from home and here she was pulling the same tricks. Billie never thought she’d be doing this here, that any of her circus skills could come in handy in the real world. The whiskey was softening the worst of her nerves so Billie didn’t waver as she marched forward and pushed her way through the crowd. 

“There she is!” Bucky was sitting at a table with five empty rocks glasses next to him. 

“Do we need to revise the stakes, Major? You’re not trying to change the bet on me are you?” She grabbed a glass off the table and tried her best to ignore the feeling of everyone’s eyes on her. It would go away, the prickling feeling as they stared her down. It always went away she just had to push through the tension. At least here she was fully clothed and her feet were steady on solid ground. Far steadier than all of the drinks she had would suggest. 

“A number is a number, really.” Bucky reasoned. “What’s one extra? Plus five has a better ring to it wouldn’t you say?”

Billie laughed at that, “I suppose you’re right, Major.” 

“Are you going to turn around so we can watch?” A voice called out from behind her. Lieutenant Douglass if she was to guess, it sounded like his sort of snark. It also sounded like someone had elbowed him in the side. She smiled thinking it was probably Barbara. 

Billie turned on her heels and dipped into a deep curtsy towards the people gathered around her. Already she was back into performing. “Give us just a moment, gentlemen. We’re settling up accounts here. The show’ll begin in just a tick.” She turned back around to face Bucky. “So here’s how this is going to work. I can’t do this by myself so you’re going to have to help me. You’re going to need to throw me the last two glasses.”

“You want me to throw you a glass while juggling? Twice? You trust me to do that?” 

“You started this whole thing, might as well get involved.” Billie said. “Besides, there’s a better chance at avoiding disaster this way than if I started with all five on my own. I’m not doing that with things I’ve never juggled before.” 

Bucky’s face was twisted in concentration. Billie wondered if he was going to call the whole thing off. If he tried she was going to suggest she juggle just three glasses instead. She wasn’t leaving until she at least somewhat proved her talents. Billie wanted to see if she could make Bucky smile. 

She tossed the glass in her hand again, higher this time. “I suppose there is a danger aspect, I will give you that. But remember, I’m a nurse if anything goes wrong.”

Bucky chuckled. “Rumor is—”

“Fine.” Billie raised her hand to cut him off. “I’m not the only nurse here tonight. Come on, you’re not flying tomorrow so you’ll have some time to heal before you have to go up again. We can push the table out of the way and I’ll stand in the corner so you won’t be throwing in the direction of everyone.”

“You could still get hurt.” 

Billie hadn’t been expecting this change of heart. The was definitely something up with Bucky, normally he was all about encouraging the reckless behavior. The one leading the charge. He wasn’t usually the one giving the waring speeches. Something had to be wrong. 

Billie waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve dealt with worse, trust me. Plus, I know how to handle myself when something goes wrong. This isn’t my first rodeo, Major.” She knew she shouldn’t push but she couldn’t help but add, “Come on, don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet. That’s not like you. Scared I’m going to prove you wrong? Why not live a little?” She couldn’t help but think about how she used to tease her brother and she poked Bucky in the shoulder as if he was Eddie. 

Bucky shook his head but then stood up. He didn’t respond to Billie instead calling, “Hey, Buck! Come help me move this table.” 

Billie grabbed a second glass from the table and then stepped out of the way while the two moved the table. She heard Buck grumbling something about how this was a bad idea but Billie decided to ignore him. Her drunk logic and seeing Bucky’s clearly fake smile had her coming around to thinking this was an excellent idea. So Billie turned to face the crowd smiling wide. 

“Now is everyone ready for a show? Has anyone else placed any bets on me tonight?” She held the three glasses in one hand and lifted the other to her ear, waiting for someone’s answer. 

“It’d be rude to say, ma’am” called out Captain Everett Blakely.

“It’d be rude to not split the winnings!” Billie countered with a wink.

“You’re really going to do it?” Douglass asked. 

“We’ll see. Depends on if Major Egan can handle the pass.” 

“Oh I’ll make it just fine just you watch.” Bucky said. “Now where do you want me.” 

Billie glanced around at the space. She gestured to most of it, “I’m probably going to end up traveling a bit, so just stay on the edge of the circle somewhere. I’ll tell you when I’m ready. I can handle most passes just try not to go too high or too low.”

“Will it be obvious what’s too high or low?” He looked nervous again. It unsettled her. 

“Don’t worry about it, forget I said anything. It’ll all be fine and you’ll be down a pack of smokes in just a couple of minutes.” that made him laugh and Billie smiled. Success. But she could do better. 

Billie made her way to the center of the space Buck and Bucky had cleared. She let herself picture dropping a glass in the first round, in the second. Before she even needed Bucky to throw her one. What was really the worst that could happen? What happened here didn’t need to come home with her, she reasoned with herself. Realistically she could just not tell anyone about what happened. Her dad didn’t have to know. She could suffer through the embarrassment during the war, there were beyond worse crosses to bear. It was going to be fine. Billie took a deep breath then smiled. Showtime. 

Just like Billie thought and hoped, her muscle memory took over as soon as she threw the first glass into the air. She heard gasps around her as she started getting into the feel of it and she smiled wider in response. Bucky wasn’t the only one who had doubted Billie could juggle. It always felt good to take people by surprise so maybe it was good she barely told anyone about her circus life. They didn’t have enough good surprises there on base. She kept her eyes trained on the glasses but it was hard to bite back the laugh at the men’s reaction. This was nothing. If only she had her balls with her, then she’d really be able to put on a show for them. 

It felt so nice to slip back into the rhythm of juggling that Billie didn’t even mind her arms were starting to burn. She couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. The adrenaline coursing through her was like she was back under the big top. Christ, she has missed this. She had no idea she would have missed this that much. After a minute or so Billie felt comfortable enough for the next glass. 

“Alright, Major. You ready?” Billie called out, eyes not leaving the glasses going round and round. 

“When you are.” Bucky answered. 

Billie moved so that she was facing Bucky. “Hit me.”

“Now I don’t think—”

“You know what I mean. Stop being a smartass.” Laughter came from the crowd. 

“Here you go.” Bucky tossed the glass perfectly and Billie added it to her rotation with ease. 

Her arms were really burning but she didn’t mind, not with how they were clapping for her. This was one of her favorite feelings in the world, or as close as she could get without being near a trapeze swing. The reactions from an audience tended to be food for a performer’s soul and Billie had long been starving. Out of her whole circus family Billie was the only one not motivated by those reactions. Still, she could get hungry. There was something inherent in her, something deep that made her come alive when she performed. Barbara was right, it didn’t matter if she wasn’t the best nurse at Thorpe Abbotts because there were other things she could do. Wasn’t job supposed to be helping the airmen? She spared a glance at Bucky and was thrilled to see a genuine smile stretched across his face. It seemed he’d done a complete 180 degree turn from earlier in the evening. It was such a gift to be able to affect someone’s mood like that. This was why she loved what she could do. 

“I would like to state for the record that I did win the original bet.” Billie called out. 

“Does that mean you want to quit?” Bucky challenged. 

“Not a chance, Major. Not a chance.” Billie quipped. 

“Eyes up then.” Bucky said. 

It was only her years of training that saved Billie from disaster when Bucky threw tossed the final glass at her. She nearly stumbled but quickly got her footing steady. “I didn’t tell you I was ready for that!” she called out, beyond annoyed. That could have gone seriously wrong and she didn’t want to be the one to ruin the mood of the party. 

“Seems like you handled it just fine.” Bucky dismissed Billie’s frustration and gave a clap as he watched her successfully juggle the five glasses. He really was back to his normal self. 

Billie gave into another laugh but then suddenly sobered. She hadn’t been thinking this through at all. She’d never juggled glasses like this before, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to catch them all without breaking anything. 

“Now this is the part I didn’t think all the way through.” Billie sheepishly admitted. 

“How you’re going to stop? I’ve been wondering that since the beginning.” Bucky was standing with his arms crossed. He had a smug look on his face that annoyed Billie but she’d rather this than his pathetic state from earlier. 

“We might have some casualties I’m afraid.” She mused and went quiet for a few moments. She was staring at the glasses as she threw them around. Maybe if she utilized some bad form she’d be able to toss the glasses forward. With her mind made up she said, “Okay, we’re going to do a reverse of what we just did. You’ll have to get closer but I’ll toss them back to you.” 

“So I’m involved again?” Bucky groaned in an over the top way that was more in line with his usual behavior. 

“You’re the one who started it.” Billie teased back. 

Someone pushed through the crowd, Billie couldn’t tell, and stepped through into the clearing. It was Crosby holding a cushion from one of the chairs in the back corner. “Would this help?” He asked. 

“Excellent foresight, Croz.” Bucky clapped Crosby on the back and took the cushion from him and dropped it on the ground in front of him. “Now if I drop it it’ll still have a hope for survival.” 

Billie’s arms were on fire. She really needed to speed things along. “We ready over there, gentlemen?” 

“When you are.” Bucky answered. 

“First one coming through.” Billie called and as one of the glasses came into her right hand she twisted her wrist in a way she was trained to never do. The glass went out instead of up and Bucky caught it with ease. 

Billie was elated, she couldn’t believe this was going so well. She tossed a second, and then third glass to Bucky that he beautifully caught. Billie didn’t know why he’d been worried. She was left with a glass in each hand blushing as she faced the crowd. She had been on base with these men for months but this was the first time it felt like any of them were realizing she was a real person. It was electrifying. She gave a dramatic deep curtsy and once she was back standing straight she had people around her. It seemed no one had expected her to pull off such a trick, that no one thought much of her before this. They meant well, Billie knew that. But for some reason the comments stung a little. 

After Billie was done working her way through a small group of admirers Barbara slid up to Billie’s side. “I can only imagine what they’d be saying if they saw your flying costume. Probably have to fight your way through a lot more them.” 

Billie elbowed Barbara. “Leave the costume out of it. I can’t believe I showed you that picture.” 

“Why would you bring it with you if you didn’t want someone to see it?” 

“Look, who cares about the picture of me and my friend. Tell me honestly,” She set the glasses down on the table and then grabbed Barbara’s hands. She was embarrassed but had to ask, “How did I look up there?” 

“You’re an absolute ace and you know it, don’t go begging for compliments.” Barbara squeezed Billie’s hands and smiled. “But you looked lovely. More alive than I’ve seen in a while. You looked like you were having a lot of fun. Were you?” 

“I did, yeah.” Billie answered. She looked at the glasses on the table, smiling to herself. She reached out and picked them back up. “It was fun to get back into it. More than I thought it would be.” 

“I still can’t believe you can juggle.” Barbara shook her head with a smile. She brought her pint glass up and sipped bit of the beer head. “You’re the darnedest thing.”

“You make it seem like I did this crazy thing when all I did was throw some stuff around.” Billie admonished. 

“Well it’s certainly not something that a lot of people can do, especially with how much you’ve had to drink. And I think that’s worth celebrating!” Barbara lifted her glass in the air then brought it down and took a big gulp. She let out a content sigh and asked, “Did you see what happened between June and her new replacement? When we got here?” 

“I saw them dancing for a while, but that’s it.” Billie answered. 

Barbara started in on her story and Billie tried her best to pay attention to the latest updates on her friend’s love life. But the glasses were warm now in her hands and she kept turning them over and over. It had always been soothing to Billie to have something in her hands to play with. Part of the reason why she took to juggling so well. Her arms weren’t burning anymore. Instead there was an ache, the kind Billie couldn’t help but love. She thought her arms could handle going again now that she was warmed up. Still listening to Barbara she took a couple steps away from her friend and started tossing the two glasses around. Two didn’t require as much focus so Billie was able to pay attention to Barbara’s gossip while keeping her eyes on the glasses she was juggling. 

Barbara made a crude joke and Billie took her eyes off the glasses as she turned her head slightly, laughing and ready to say something in response. Only Barbara had stepped to the side to say something to Douglass. She’d turned her back enough so Billie got a clear look through the crowd and straight to the bar. There was a man standing facing her. Looking directly at her. Billie couldn’t help but gasp a little. 

He had curls, a mustache, and looked to be about a little less than a head taller than her. Never in Billie’s life had she been so struck by someone. The eye contact had a grip around her throat. She was buzzing. He didn’t look away and neither did Billie, a challenge of sorts. She was struck with a feeling of familiarity and wanted to rush towards him, pull him close to her and never let go. Her face started heating up, her pale skin betraying her emotions as always. She felt foolish but he looked like he would give the best hug, the kind that felt like home and made you forget all that was happening around you. Billie was struck with the realization that as deeply as she was looking at him, he was looking right back at her with the same intensity. Finally someone was seeing her; they were seeing each other. He gave her a smile and she felt herself returning the gesture. He had a beautiful smile. She wanted to see what it looked like up close. Billie felt like she was flying through the air without the safety net, her stomach all out of sorts. Suddenly she was reminded of what she must look like; red faced, messy hair, with a disheveled uniform. Hardly presentable or anything worth looking at. 

Her heart collapsed through her stomach and she wrenched her eyes away from the man just as Barbara reached out to touch Billie’s arm to get her attention. She knew it was going to happen before it did, but Billie lost her grip and one of the glasses slipped through her fingers. It crashed around her, causing a brief wave of silence as people turned to see what happened. Billie’s knew her face must look like a tomato so she immediately dropped to a crouch to hide her face and looked at the damage up close. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Barbara wailed from somewhere over Billie. “I distracted you, this is all my fault!” She joined Billie on the floor and reached out as if to start scooping up the glass with her bare hands. She paused and then looked up at Billie. “I’m going to go find a broom and dustpan.” she said and then ran off into the crowd. 

Billie kicked at the big pieces of glass trying to move what she could. Then she did what Barbara wouldn’t and started picking at the glass with her hands. 

“How is it that you can handle juggling five but two is what takes you out?” She heard Bucky behind her and she smiled to herself. Of course he saw her mess up. 

“We all have our things, sir.” She said still facing the ground. 

“Here, to make it easier.” Billie looked up to see him handing her a beer. “Wasn’t sure what you liked so if you hate it at least I tried.” Bucky said with a shrug.

“I appreciate the attempt.” Billie smiled. She stood up to take the beer but set it on the table instead of taking a drink. 

“I’ll find you tomorrow to get you your smokes.” 

“Oh you don’t have to do that.” Billie waved him off. “I was messing around. I don’t even smoke.” 

“What were you going to do with them?” 

“Use them as bribes to have people forgive me for inevitably doing something wrong.” The strategy hadn’t worked yet but she wasn’t going to give up her attempts now. 

“Come on, you’re not that bad.” Bucky reasoned. 

“Well I’ve never had to give you an IV before so maybe hold your judgement until I get you under my care.” Billie joked. 

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Bucky asked. 

“Maybe it is.” Billie shrugged and gave Bucky a playful light punch on the arm. 

Billie heard Barbara before she saw her. “I have a broom, dustpan, and some rags. Lets get this cleaned up.” 

At that Bucky have a nod to the girls and said, “I’ll leave you to it. Thanks for the show, Billie”

Billie ducked her head in a slight bow, “Always happy to play my part, Major.” She watched him walk away for a moment before she turned to help Barbara. They were making quick work of it until Billie, in the middle of telling a story, grabbed a shard of glass without thinking and sliced her hand open. She hissed as her palm throbbed. 

“Now that doesn’t look too good.” Douglas had made his way over to stand above the pair on the ground. 

“Really, James? She hadn’t realized.” Barbara snapped. Douglass raised his hands in the air and took a couple of steps back. 

“Geez, sorry I said anything.” He turned and left the two on the ground.

Billie thought that was a bit harsh. She wondered if something had happened and maybe Douglass wasn’t going to get his normal kiss goodnight. 

She reassured Barbara, “I don’t think it’s that bad.” Barbara gave her a look and Billie cut her off before she could say anything Billie continued, “But I want to get it looked at before I go to bed.” She grabbed one of the unused rags and pressed it against the cut, soaking up the blood. It stung but Billie didn’t let the discomfort show on her face. “Do you know who is on shift tonight?” 

Barbara nodded in approval of Billie’s statement and answered, “I think it’s Lucy. I hope it’s Lucy. For your sake I hope it’s anyone but Rebecca.” 

Billie groaned at the thought. Knowing her luck the nurse who seemed the most vexed with her would be working that night. She’d be mortified if she had to get stitches from Rebecca. 

“Let’s pray it’s Lucy.” Billie said with a weak smile. 

“She won’t give you any grief then, that’s for sure. Do you want to go outside and get some air while I finish cleaning this up? I’ll walk with you to the hospital.” Barbara was sweet to offer. 

“Are you sure you’re okay finishing cleaning this up?” 

Barbara nodded. “It was my fault anyways. Go on, I won’t be here much longer. Go catch your breath.” she used her hands to shoo Billie away from the mess of glass. 

Billie hovered for a second but then turned to make her way outside. It was easy to weave her way through the crowd, a type of dance in itself. Just before she got to the door Billie turned to look over her shoulder at the bar where the man had been standing. He was still there, but his back was partially to the door. She could see him in profile and even that was striking. Billie’s breath caught. He seemed to be listening to his friend talk but Billie focused in on the man’s hands. One was holding a drink the other was down by his side snapping along with the music. Billie smiled to herself charmed by how in tune the man was with the music. She somehow knew that he was just moments away from starting to dance along instead of letting his fingers do all the work. Billie turned before he could start and walked out the door.

______________________________________________________________

The base was quiet, depressingly quiet. The air was thick with the missing presences of all the lives lost in that day’s mission to Munster. Billie hadn’t seen anything like it in her time there at Thorpe Abbotts. No one had seen such a day. Only one fort had come back, piloted by someone named Robert Rosenthal. Rosie she thought she heard the nickname was. Billie wondered how that pilot must be feeling, what all of those surviving airmen were feeling. 

Billie was heading to the hospital. She needed to re-bandage her hand and figured she’d get a head start on the inventory counts so her shift would be easier tomorrow. 

Lucy, one of the normal night shift nurses, greeted her when she came through the doors. “Billie! Don’t tell me you—”

“No, I didn’t rip out the stitches. I just need you to wrap it back up so I don’t waste all your hard work.” 

“How’d it come undone?” 

Billie shrugged. “You know, life.” 

Lucy shook her head. She wasn’t all that surprised that Billie hadn’t been careful or able to stay still enough to keep the bandage on her hand. There were times when Lucy thought Billie was just as bad as some of the kids that were always running around. 

Lucy was studying Billie’s hand when they heard someone come through the door. The pair looked up and Billie’s stomach dropped. The ground seemed to fall from beneath her. It was him, the man from the officer’s club. She had assumed he was one of the many that were lost. Billie didn’t think that she would ever see him again and she’d been having an embarrassingly hard time accepting that. He didn’t look in their direction, just walked over to the man in the very last bed on the right who was already speaking to him as he sat down. His back was to the nurses, something that Billie was beyond thankful for. 

“That’s Rosie.” Lucy whispered. 

“Who?” 

“Rosie Rosenthal. He was the only one to come back.”

This was Rosie? Billie’s heart flipped and then tightened. Of course he would be a pilot. She pulled her hand away from Lucy. 

“Who’s he with?” Billie asked. 

“His navigator, I think. Lieutenant Bailey.” 

“What happened to him?”

“A couple of nasty cuts on his face, we’re keeping him here overnight to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion.”

“Do you think he has a concussion?” 

“Not at all. He hasn’t shown any of the signs but I think they’re just trying to be extra careful.” 

“Makes sense.” Billie said. 

Lucy made quick work of bandaging Billie’s hand and when she was finished Billie found her clipboard and started making her counts. Billie kept stealing looks at Rosie’s back. She couldn’t look away. It was almost impossible to focus when he was right there. At any point he could turn around and he’d see her, and at that thought Billie realized that she didn’t want him to see her. He turned his face slightly and Billie caught a look of his profile. Thing was, Billie was attracted to competence. She was drawn to those who were skilled, those who knew exactly what they were doing. To her there was nothing more attractive than a man who could handle himself. Billie wished she could be more like her old self. There was a version of her that would have no problem walking right up to him. It would be so easy to slip herself into his orbit. But she wasn’t that version anymore. She’d become so timid. 

Billie eventually lost herself in her counts and by the time she called it quits Rosie was gone. The next morning Billie was tasked with checking on Rosie’s navigator, Lieutenant Bailey. She felt like she could throw up she was so nervous but she pushed through and plastered a smile on her face. 

“Good morning, Lieutenant.” 

“Good morning, ma’am.” 

“Oh, please. Call me Billie. I can’t stand being called ma’am.” 

Bailey laughed. “Alright, Billie it is then. You here to let me out?” 

Billie nodded. “I just have to clean and bandage some of these face scrapes and then you’ll be good to go.” 

“Hey,” Bailey was studying Billie. “Did you juggle the other night at the party for Dye?” 

Billie blushed. Was this how she was going to be known now? “I did, yeah.” 

“I thought that was you! How did you learn how to do that?” 

“I grew up in the circus.” Billie said simply. 

“Wow, a real circus girl. The only time I went to the circus was back when I was in high school. It was an incredible show.” 

“Oh yeah? What was your favorite part?” 

“Anything they did up in the air. I liked all of the flips.”  

“An airmen who likes daring feats in the air, how predictable.” Billie teased. She didn’t say anything about how she’d been one of those doing flips in the air. Men tended to think of her only one way when they found out what she used to wear, how much skin she used to show. She loved her version of flying but it had it’s downsides. Continuing the small talk she asked, “Where are you from, Lieutenant.” 

“New York City. Well, Long Island technically”

“Oh I love New York City. I haven’t been there in years.” She paused what she was doing to really think about it. “Maybe ’37 or ’38?” she thought a couple moments longer. 

“I saw the circus in the summer of ’37.” Bailey commented. 

“It was ’37!” Billie snapped her fingers. “Summer of 1937. Because Charles and I snuck in to go see A Day at the Races. We were there on Long Island too.” 

“That’s around when I saw the circus! Maybe I saw yours.” 

“Maybe.” It was surreal for Billie to think of that possibility. 

“Wait, so you snuck into the movies?” Bailey asked. 

Billie resumed her work, answering, “Well it wasn’t really sneaking. We exchanged circus tickets for movie tickets.” 

“A fair switch. How’d you pull that off?” 

“We caught some kids trying to sneak through the back the day before and instead of throwing them out my friend asked if there was anything they could do for us in exchange.” 

“So this wasn’t the first time you’d pulled out the bartering.” 

“Oh, not at all. Movies, plays, jazz clubs, baseball games, you name it and I’ve probably tried to exchange tickets for it.” 

“You like jazz?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s the only music that makes sense.” She set the excess bandages down and reached out to hold Bailey’s chin to keep his face still. She inspected her work. Thankfully she hadn’t messed up his simple patch job. “Alright, Lieutenant. I think you’re ready for discharge.” 

Bailey practically jumped out of the bed and Billie laughed at his reaction. 

______________________________________________________________

Billie hated to admit defeat but she had been defeated plain and simple. She had never not finished a book before but Moby Dick was where she drew the line. It was just so much, too complicated and heavy. She didn’t know what any of the words meant and even though she was managing to follow along with the plot it was possibly one of the most boring books she’d ever read. There were plenty of times Billie hated her lack of education and this was one of them. She wouldn’t be having such a hard time if she’d been able to go to school. For a couple of years her parents had put together an attempt at a homeschool for her and her brother and the rest of the circus kids but no real work had ever gotten done. She was jealous of all the girls who were still in school. Billie could only ever dream of going to college. 

Rebecca had been in college before the war. Billie’s stomach turned thinking about Rebecca. The girl had it out for Billie, and now that she was thinking about it Billie’s lack of real education might have something to do with Rebecca’s attitude towards her. It was clear Rebecca didn’t think she had what it took to be a nurse and her lack of education was a contributing factor. If only their training instructor hadn’t made a comment in front of everyone then maybe Rebecca wouldn’t be so bad. 

But Billie wasn’t thinking about Rebecca, not that day and not for the rest of the weekend. Rebecca had gotten approved for leave to London and Billie felt it was more a gift to her and the girls than it was to Rebecca. Now she’d be given a break from her most recent stress fantasy: a cruel dream where Rebecca and Rosie fall in love and flaunt it in Billie’s face. She knew Rebecca found Rosie attractive and that they’d danced at the officer’s club a couple nights ago. Billie knew it shouldn’t bother her. Everyone should find Rosie attractive, Billie reasoned with herself. There was no deny thing the truth. But there was this sense of possession that Billie could’t get rid of. She was ashamed of it but she felt like Rosie was hers. That eye contact had changed everything for Billie. 

Her priorities had shifted. She found herself wanting to be someone that could be worthy of standing next to Rosie. He was just so good. Rosie had become a presence on the base, earning almost a mythical status after the disastrous Munster mission. Rosie was all anyone wanted to talk about which helped Billie collect scraps of information about the pilot, but it was also overwhelming. She felt silly having feelings over a man that plenty of the other women on base were praying would ask them to dance. She normally stayed away from the stars of the show, knowing that it was more fun to fool around with those in the background. A big ego wasn’t attractive to Billie, in fact it was practically an instant turn off. Luckily for her crush it didn’t seem like Rosie had an ego.

No, Rosie seemed to be the furthest thing from the typical Hollywood hotshot pilot. He was nothing like Majors Cleven and Egan had been. No one could fill the holes they had left but Rosie seemed to be standing steady on his own. He was turning out to be a popular guy in his own way making it easy for Billie to fall deeper into her feelings. She was embarrassed by how strongly she felt towards Rosie and she dreaded the inevitable day news of her crush got out. Barbara would have a fit when she found out and Billie wanted to hold that off as long as possible. It wasn’t worth letting anyone know if nothing had happened. She didn’t know what was going to happen but something in her told her that she couldn’t run away from Rosie forever.

So there Billie was going to the library in attempt to make up for the years of schooling she didn’t get. She could never compete with a college education like Rebecca’s but she could at least become as well read as the base library would allow. Billie was quietly humming to herself when she rounded the corner to walk through the propped open door to the library. Her voice died once she registered who was in the library and she stopped in her tracks.

Rosie was standing with his back to her. He was talking to the librarian about something or another, Billie was too startled to try and follow along. She glanced to her left and saw that no one else was in the room. Quickly and as quietly as she could she crossed the room while keeping her head down. Once she reached the corner she pulled down a book at random and studied the back cover. 

All of Billie’s nerve endings seemed to be on fire. It was as if she was hyper aware of what was happening but it felt like it was happening to somebody not herself. She set the book down and grabbed another from a different shelf without looking. She flipped it open to a random page and pretended to read. It had been days since she’d seen Rosie but that had been from afar. This was the closest she’d been to him since the night in the hospital.

Rosie and the librarian were talking about baseball. Just as Billie was beginning to track the conversation it was ending and Rosie was saying goodbye. Rosie’s footsteps were loud as they went out the door and down the hallway. Still, Billie waited where she was and didn’t move. The tension only slipped from her body when she felt safe that Rosie was really gone. 

“Billie! Sorry I didn’t say hello when you came in.” The librarian called to her from where he was looking over his records. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Edward.” Billie reassured. 

“How did you end up liking Moby Dick?” He asked.

“Oh it was miserable. I couldn’t finish it.” Billie let out a little laugh. 

“That bad?” Edward’s eyebrows were furrowed, lips in a frown. 

“Yeah, sorry to disappoint. I know you liked it.”

“No skin off my back,” He shrugged. “What are you looking for now?” 

“I’m not quite sure.” She held up Frankenstein and Oliver Twist. “Have you read either of these?” 

“If you didn’t like Moby Dick I’m not sure if you would like Oliver Twist. I think you’d better stick with Frankenstein.” 

Billie hummed and set Oliver Twist back down. She flipped through Frankenstein, skimming a couple of passages. “Alright then. We’ll go with this.” 

“You’re really going to take my recommendation even though you didn’t like my last?” 

“Everyone deserves a second chance don’t you think? Well, mostly everyone. You sure do.” Billie said. 

“I wish more people thought like you, Billie.”

“People do, just not military people. It’s a different world here.” Billie said. 

“Ain’t that the truth.” Edward echoed his agreement. 

______________________________________________________________

The sun was barely peaking through the surrounding trees when Billie finished her second lap around the airfield. She’d been on edge for a while now and running it seemed was one of the few things that settled her. For once she didn’t have the morning shift so she was able to get her run in before the base woke up. There was no mission that day so only a handful of other people around. Billie waved to them as she ran by, not stopping to talk to anyone. Her shirt was sticking to her back she was sweating so much. Her lungs were burning. But still she pushed herself to keep running. In a way she had missed this, which was why she kept at it. It felt good, felt familiar, to burn herself out. 

“Hey, Billie!” 

Billie slowed, looking around for the source of the voice. She vaguely recognized it but wasn’t sure who it was. 

“At your 10:00” It was Mae, crouched underneath a plane. Billie jogged over and came to stop by Mae’s toolbox. She lifted her hands up and held them above her head as she tried to slow her breathing down. 

“Good morning.” Billie said when she finally steadied her breath. “You’ve started early.”

“Tell me about it. Not all of us are used to your hours.” Mae slid out from under the plane and stood up. She stretched out her back and dropped her head to her chest. Mae let out a sigh. “It’s going to be such a long day.” She moaned, sounding close to tears. 

“Is it?” 

“It’s going to be awful. Not only am I starting before the crack of dawn but it’s not going to stop until probably—”

Billie felt bad for tuning Mae out, especially when she was trying to vent about her work which was something she really should be supporting her friend with, but she couldn’t help it. Billie had realized that Mae had been working on Rosie’s fort. The name was painted in a bright yellow script: Rosie’s Riveters. She loved it. She couldn’t focus on anything else. 

Mae continued ranting while Billie circled the fort, stretching out while she did. She loved what the planes looked like up close, such terrifying mechanical beasts. They were these amazing powerful creatures that Billie couldn’t help but see as death traps. How could she not after seeing the boys when they come back? She wondered what it felt like to command such a hulking thing. She wondered not for the first time what it felt like to be a pilot, to have so much pressure on your shoulders. To have the lives of nine other men on your hands. One blessing about being the worst nurse base was that she barely had any responsibility. She had it so easy compared to the rest of them. Shame washed over her and she dropped her hand from where she’d been running it over the wing. 

Billie finally tuned back into Mae’s drawl and gathered that the mechanic was going to have to look at a lot of planes that day. She decided to push things along. Plus for some reason she didn’t trust herself being around Rosie’s fort. It felt like such a personal extension of the man, she didn’t want to encroach. Besides she was already driving herself crazy thinking about Rosie she needed to give herself some distance. 

Billie asked how much work she had left on Rosie’s plane and Mae answered that she had just finished up. 

“I actually caught you at the perfect time. I’m going to get started on the one next door.” Mae gestured to the plane behind them. “Do you mind helping me carry some of this stuff over there?” 

“You know you don’t have to ask.” Billie let out a laugh, grateful that she could be of use. “Besides you’re doing me a favor.” 

“Of course I am, I’m not being lazy at all.” Mae laughed. “I guess how else are you going to stay balanced?” Mae joked. “You clearly got your legs in already so now you need to work out your arms.” 

The pair made quick work of moving the equipment and Billie found herself settling down to keep talking to Mae while she began her work. 

“Do you think you’ll go back to the airshows once this is all done?” Billie asked Mae. 

Mae hummed, thinking it over. “I probably will, at least at first. My dad says they’re making do with the mechanic that replaced me but I think he said that so that I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“You feel bad about leaving them?” She’d told Mae all about running away from the circus, how desperate she’d been to get out of there. But Mae didn’t have the same relationship with her family business as Billie had with hers. 

“Constantly. But luckily they’re always reassuring me that they’re proud of me. They know I’m doing good work.” 

“You’re doing great work, Mae.” 

“Thanks, Billie.” 

The pair went quiet but then Mae doubled back in the conversation to say, “But I don’t think I’ll stay for long when I go back.”

“Really?”

“I think this whole thing has ruined flying for me.” Mae sat back on her heels and let out a deep exhale. Billie knew what she was feeling, that bone deep exhaustion one got when thinking about how much blood they’d seen, all the lives they’d lost. 

“What do you think you’ll do instead?” 

“Absolutely no idea.” Mae went back to work. 

They were in the middle of talking about the first time Mae’s sister had taken Mae up with her during one of the airshows when Billie noticed the shapes of two men walking toward them. She squinted, she couldn’t tell who it was. 

Something in her stomach turned and she worried she knew what that feeling meant. It didn’t take much longer for her to recognize the men as Ken Lemmons and Rosie. They looked to be in deep discussion which Billie was grateful for. She slid down in her seat so she wouldn’t stand out as much amidst the parts. Her heart was pounding and she felt like she could throw up. Here she was avoiding Rosie again. 

Barbara had started to joke that Billie was turning into a hermit but there was some truth to it. She’d been turning down more and more invitations to go out. She was keeping to herself. She was doing a lot of reading and knitting. She’d started a scarf when she first got to Thorpe Abbotts that she was finally giving it the attention it deserved. Knitting was easier than risking seeing Rosie. Billie couldn’t explain it in a way that didn’t make her feel like an idiot but she just couldn’t be around him. Her crush was too big; she didn’t trust herself. Billie had no experience with serious relationships since she’d only ever had casual flings. She wasn’t used to these sort of real feelings. Rosie was the real deal and she couldn’t mess that up. But of course she would because that’s what she did. 

The two men were far enough away that Billie knew she was safe to ask, “What’s he doing out here?” It was a silly question, he probably had countless reasons to want to come and look at his plane. But it was early for pilots to be out when they weren’t flying. 

“Who?” Mae lifted her head and looked around. She stood up a bit to get a better look. 

Billie nodded in the direction of the two in deep discussion, coming closer and closer. Mae followed Billie’s direction. “Rosie?” Billie nodded. “He’s probably here to see the patch up on the left wing. They’re doing a practice run later today and I think he’s one of those who needs to get his hands on the thing and check it over himself before wheels up. Whatever it takes to make sure they get up in the air, right?” 

“You think he doesn’t trust you?”

“I think he’s a pilot.” Mae said simply, getting back to work. “They’ve all got their superstitions. Seems like he knows what he’s talking about. More than some of these other jokesters can say.”

“Is that right?” Billie hummed. How was he real? He wore his competence well and Billie was so attracted to him it hurt. She felt weird feeling so strongly towards a stranger but she was almost at the point of full accepting her obsession. 

Rosie hadn’t looked over in their direction yet, but Billie knew it was only a matter of time. She brought her knees up to her chin and she sat with her arms curled around her legs. Talk about the worst time to be in her PT gear, she was showing so much skin. There was no way Rosie wouldn’t see her. Well, it was possible he wouldn’t but highly unlikely. At least she had legs that looked good in her PT gear. Or she used to have good legs. 

“Do I have nice legs?” Billie needed confirmation from Mae. 

“You have a nice everything.” Mae said diplomatically not looking up to look at Billie.

“I’m being serious.” Billie pouted.

“So am I!” Mae finally turned to look at Billie. She stuck her hand on her hip and pointed a wrench at Billie. “Why are you worried about your legs all of a sudden?” 

“No reason.” 

“Really, what’s got you worked up?” 

Billie couldn’t help but glance over at Rosie’s plane and Mae tracked her gaze. 

“Huh.” was all Mae said. 

Billie was mortified. But she knew that Mae wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. Not there was anything there to make a big deal out of. 

Mae looked at Billie hunched over on herself and chuckled. “Ease up, I’m not going to do anything.” Mae reasoned. “You’re really in it, aren’t you.” She shook her head. All of the nurses were boy crazy it seemed. Mae’s heart hurt, reminded of a time when that was her. But Billie looked so pathetic that Mae felt like she had to take her out of her misery. She reminded herself of when she was in the beginning butterflies stage, how big everything felt. 

“Hey, come on.” Mae called to Billie. “I gotta run an errand with the jeep. Do you want a lift back to your hut?” 

Billie was beyond grateful for Mae’s kindness. She didn’t have any other friends on the base who would stay quiet about Billie feeling some type of way over a man. Mae was a good friend and Billie was grateful this awful war had managed to bring them together. 

Billie stood and walked over to the jeep. All she could think about was her legs and she imagined Rosie looking at them. It didn’t make sense that she felt this way even though she was revealing less skin than she did with her flying costume. There was a time when she felt perfectly at home parading around with barely anything covered and now here she was. How had she turned into such a prude? She tied to shake out the nervous energy running through her. She wished she could go back to running but it was too late in the day now. 

She climbed into the jeep and finally let herself take a peek back in the direction of Rosie’s plane. Ken was standing facing away from her, gesturing to something in the engine. Rosie was standing facing her. Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach dropped, but then she realized that she was too far away for him to really see her. Even if he did see her he wouldn’t be able to realize who she was, she reasoned with herself. She didn’t have to get so worked up over nothing. 

“You good?” Mae asked as she jumped into the drivers seat and started up the jeep. 

“All good.” Billie nodded.

Mae pressed on the gas and drove them away from Rosie, Billie’s heart somehow sinking the further and further away they got. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep her game up.

______________________________________________________________

Billie made more progress on her scarf in the past couple of weeks than she had her entire stay at Thorpe Abbotts. She was down to only going out with the girls once a week. No matter how much they begged, Billie couldn’t get herself to risk it. The girls were worried about her, that much Billie knew. Barbara had given her no option but go out with them that night and Billie figured her plan was to get Billie drunk and force her to talk. She didn’t know how to explain how she was avoiding a pilot she’s never talked to, only stared at once and now can’t stop thinking about. She couldn’t explain how crazy and obsessed she felt. Barbara wouldn’t be able to understand that she can’t let herself be around Rosie.

Plus there was the fact that he was a pilot. They were in the middle of a war. It was hard enough waiting for Rosie to come back from missions as it was and she didn’t even properly know him. The anxiety would be too much for her to handle if she got closer with Rosie. The potential heartbreak too much, but Billie was one to always be at odds with herself. She wanted Rosie but she was too scared to do anything about it; she knew leaving him alone would protect her heart but it seemed more heartbreaking to not try and get to know Rosie with each passing day. 

Rosie had burrowed himself deep under Billie’s skin and it was almost irritating. He was changing everything for her. Billie was used to having to constantly saying goodbye to people, used to good things happening only for brief moments. Billie was used to flings and moving on. Rosie shouldn’t have been different than any of the other men. But he was. 

Billie’s train of thought was interrupted by Barbara coming through the door already asking, “Who wants to go out with me tonight? I was thinking the pub. Billie, you’ll come if we go to the pub, right?” Barbara clasped her hands together and brought them next to her face while she did her best to give puppy dog eyes to Billie. 

“Really? The pub again?” 

“What’s wrong with the pub? You love the pub.” Barbara’s hands went to her hips, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Nothing is wrong with the pub. I just think you should stop avoiding Douglass at the officer’s club.” Billie shrugged as she focused back in on knitting. 

“I said we weren’t going to talk about him!” Barbara shrieked. Billie could’t help but bite back a laugh at her friend’s dramatics. 

“Sorry, my mistake.” Billie paused then sighed. There was really only one solution. She set her knitting down and got out of bed stretching her arms out over her head. “I’ll go with you.” Billie knew she wasn’t getting out of it so she might as well give in early. 

“And I didn’t have to fight you on it,” Barbara eyed Billie suspiciously. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Billie gestured to her knitting. “Just getting stir crazy. Head hurts from trying to count stitches.” 

“Well you can’t back out now! Hey, can I do your makeup?” Barbara’s eyes shined with excitement. 

Billie shrugged and said with a smile, “Let’s make it your night, Barbara. Do to me what you’d like.” She tried to play it off as if she was doing Barbara a favor but Billie had been keeping a secret. 

It was no secret Billie didn’t wear makeup and only occasionally let Barbara dress her up. But it was a secret that Billie actually loved having her makeup done. Growing up the hair and makeup tent was where she felt most connected to her femininity. She was always safe with those women who took her in and taught her all of the things her mother hadn’t. She’d never admit it to anyone but Billie found it to be almost spiritual being surrounded by women putting themselves together for a show. For years the only gentle touches Billie got were from the women in that wagon. She’d missed that. Part of why it hurt so much being cut from the shows  was because she lost the access to that feminine space. 

When she was looking at herself in the mirror right before leaving Billie was struck by how much she looked like her old self. She straightened her posture and composed herself. Everything felt more like a show when she went out looking like this. Billie gave her reflection a cheeky wink, smiled, and turned to follow the rest of the girls out of the door and into the night. 

It had only taken half an hour for Barbara to leave Billie’s side in favor of the minuscule dance floor. Billie had been expecting to be ditched and timed getting her next round with it; she loved how predictable Barbara was. Despite being on edge that Rosie would pop up somewhere, Billie was having a nice night. It was loud enough she could barely focus on her own thoughts which was something Billie appreciated more and more lately. She had a pleasant buzz going and was thinking that after this next drink she’d see what she could do about getting in on the dancing herself. She finally reached the bar and found a place right on the corner. 

She’d only been there a moment when, “Hey! Circus girl. How’ve you been?” 

Billie turned and Lieutenant Bailey was standing next to her. Her heart rate skyrocketed. If Bailey was here that meant the rest of Rosie’s crew, including Rosie, was there. “I’m fine.” she answered after a brief hesitation. “And you, Lieutenant? Your face seems like it’s healed up nicely.” 

“All thanks to your fine care and attention.” 

“Please,” Billie couldn’t help but smirk and rolled her eyes. “I had nothing to do with it and you’re lucky I didn’t. You’d probably be in worst shape if I did.” 

“Why are you so down yourself? Come on,” He nudged her with his elbow trying to encourage her. “Did you forget that you’re in the circus?” 

“The circus has nothing to do with this.” Billie laughed. 

“Hey, speaking of— Do your circus skills include playing darts?” Bailey asked, eyes wide with excitement. 

“That’s not a circus skill, more like a life skill. But yes, I can play.” Billie answered.

“Are you good?” Bailey pressed.

“I’m alright.” Billie hedged. She wasn’t sure if she liked the direction this was heading.

“Great! Do you want to come over and play with me and the guys? We’re down one since Rosie wanted to stay at the officer’s club. We can make a bet out of it, I’d split it if we win.” 

“When we win.” Knowing there was no chance she’d run into Rosie, Billie was all in on playing darts. She used to play a bit when they first got to base but it had been a while since she’d taken it on and she was looking forward to it. It helped that she knew these men wouldn’t be expecting her to be as good as she knew she was. She wasn’t incredible, but she could hold her own. Billie also couldn’t resist the temptation to try and get some sort of information about Rosie. She was a woman obsessed. 

“Now there’s some confidence!” Bailey cheered. 

Finally the bartender stood in front of them and asked them what they wanted. Once they were loaded up with their drinks and some for those back at the table the two made their way to the back of the room where the dart board was set up. 

“Fellas, this is Billie our resident circus nurse.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Billie laughed. 

Bailey continued undeterred, “Billie, this is our copilot Pappy Lewis and our bombardier Clifford Milburn. They’re going to be very upset when we take all their money.” 

“You two are going to be the ones losing money, not us.” Milburn joked. 

 The game got underway and it didn’t take long for Pappy and Milburn to realize that Billie could more than hold her own. 

“What a shot!” Bailey let out a cheer when Billie hit the bullseye. “How you feeling boys?” 

“Where did you learn to play darts?” Pappy asked Billie before taking a sip of his beer. “Last time I checked they weren’t a part of the circus.” 

“You do know I had a life outside of the circus, right?” Billie said, partially lying. The circus had been her entire life but that didn’t mean she wanted them to know that. “But I learned the same as you did. Someone taught me and then I practiced until I was good to take your money.” She hit the bullseye again to finish her turn. “You should just be glad I’m playing with Bailey. If I had Eddie with me you wouldn’t have a chance at all.” 

“Is Eddie your boyfriend?” Milburn asked. 

Billie shook her head. “No, he’s my younger brother. You’d never guess we were three years apart, he’s more like my twin.” A wave of grief swept over her when she mentioned Eddie. She wondered how he was holding up in training. If he’d jumped out of a plane yet. She took a deep drink of her beer, wishing it was whiskey instead. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Bailey was the one to ask this time.

Billie choked on her drink. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that Rosie’s crew was asking about her love life when she felt practically head over heels for their pilot. 

“I take that to be a no?” Pappy was laughing at her. 

Billie wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. Pretending she wasn’t losing it on the inside she calmly answered, “You would be correct. Now I believe it’s your turn, Lieutenant.”

After winning best three out of five Billie and Bailey were the undeniable winners. Milburn and Pappy had wanted to push for five out of seven but Billie begged off. 

“I have an early morning tomorrow and I can’t bounce back from a night of drinking like I used to.” Billie downed the last of her drink and set the glass amongst the dozen other empty glasses on the table. 

“You’re too young to have hangovers like that.” Pappy said, confused.

“Not when you started drinking as young as I did.” Billie shrugged. People tended to age differently in her profession. 

After saying her goodbyes Billie made her way to the door while looking around for her friends. She needed to find at least Barbara and figure out who was ready to go back to the hut. To her surprise the girls were already gathered to the side of the door talking amongst themselves. 

“There you are!” Barbara cried when she saw Billie walking towards them. She pushed through June and Mae to pull Billie in for a hug. “I lost track of you!”

“I was just playing darts.” Billie was confused how Barbara could have lost her in the relatively small pub, but then she took a whiff of Barbara as they hugged and could tell that Barbara had more than her fair share of whiskey over the course of the night. 

“You didn’t see that?” Mae asked. 

“You did?” Barbara responded. “Why didn’t you say anything when I asked?”

“I honestly wasn’t paying attention.” Mae said with half-assed shrug. “Sorry, Barbara.” 

“It’s okay, now I don’t feel as bad when I tune you out when you’re talking about your repair details. You know we can’t keep up with that stuff I don’t know why you keep trying.” Barbara snapped.

“Oh come off it, Barbara.” June cut in. 

Bille had a clear look at the door in the space between Barbara and June and blankly stared out of it while the girls continued to chatter on besides her. She was waiting for a break in the conversation to say that she wanted to leave when someone came through the door. A someone that she was not supposed to see. 

Bailey had said that Rosie would be at the officer’s club but there he was a couple of yards in front of her. Her first instinct, that she was quick to act on, was to move to the side so that June was shielding her from any possible view Rosie could have of her. Her mind was racing. She watched Rosie out of the corner of her eye as he slowly made his way through the room. He was good with the men. She liked how he seemed to check in on everyone in some capacity; he made the effort to see every man and to make sure they knew they were being seen. She could tell he cared a lot and his men knew he cared, and her heart sped up even more. She was beyond enamored with him and she didn’t even know him. She felt ridiculous. And lucky. Christ, she was lucky that she’d left his crew when she did. That could’ve been a disaster. 

It was around when Rosie got to his crew that Billie realized the girls had gone quiet around her. She looked back to see all three looking at her. 

“Care to share with the class?” Barbara asked, eyebrow raised, a wicked grin on her face. 

“What are you talking about?” Billie tried to play it off. 

“Who were you looking at? Who managed to catch your eye? I’ve been waiting for this day for forever! Who is it?” Barbara rapidly fired the questions off one after another. 

“Why are you so invested in my love life?” Billie asked.

“Love life! So there is a man! Quick, who is it? Come on, tell us. Tell us. Tell us.” Barbara was acting like a child, drunkenly pulling on Billie’s arm as she begged Billie to share her secrets. June and Mae were looking at the pair laughing. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, seriously. I was just looking around. Leave it be.” Billie said, but she knew it wouldn’t work. She knew these girls wouldn’t give up. 

“You know, I think Rosie just got here.” Mae was looking back at the group playing darts. The rest of them followed her gaze and though she wasn’t sure if the rest would, Billie recognized Rosie’s back. 

“I said leave it be, please, Mae.” She begged all but confirming that Rosie was her man. 

“Fine, fine.” Barbara threw her hands up in the air in defeat. “We’ll leave it be. But just for now!” 

“Barbara!” Billie groaned.

“What did you expect?” June looped her arm through Billie’s. “You know how she is.”

“You’re right.” Billie sighed. She lowered her voice so June was the only one who could hear her. “It’s just that there’s really nothing to talk about.”

“If you say so.” June accepted but her face revealed her doubt. 

Billie decided not to fight it and turned to look back at Rosie just in time to see him clap Pappy on the back, celebrating a good throw. Their celebration died down a bit and then all of a sudden Rosie turned around and looked in Billie’s direction. Faster than she’s ever moved Billie whipped her head around with such force her body followed and she pulled herself and June out towards the door. 

“Okay, I guess we’re leaving.” June laughed, taken by surprise with Billie’s sudden movement. 

They walked out of the pub and out into the night. June waited until when they’d gained enough distance between them and Barbara and Mae to ask, “Do you want me to say something to Barbara about Rosie? I can make sure she doesn’t give you too much grief.”

Billie was touched at June’s kindness. She didn’t have a lot of quality girl friends growing up and it felt so good to have someone like June in her corner. She squeezed June’s arm and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. It was going to come out at some point. It’s just silly is all. I’ve never talked to him, just seen him from afar.”

“He’s quite striking isn’t he?” June asked. 

Billie blushed as she agreed. “And it scares me.”

“Really?” June laughed. “Your concept of scary is all out of sorts. Normal people are scared about throwing themselves in the air hundreds of feet above the ground, not about talking to a man. You’ve got it all switched around.”

“You know what it’s like. He’s a pilot.” Billie felt it went without saying how risky it was to try to get involved with these men. Heartbreak was practically inevitable. She’d never admit it out loud but she was terrified of ending up like Mae. “If I could change it, I would.” Billie whined. “But I can’t stop thinking about him. I know I should just do something. Because the waiting really is getting to me. I can’t avoid him forever.” she pouted. 

“It sounds like you’re putting off the inevitable, darling.” June patted Billie’s hand that was resting on June’s arm. “You’re bound to meet at one point or another. And then whatever is going to happen will happen. Just let it play out.” 

“You’re good at this advice stuff.” 

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” She leaned into Billie’s side. “Eleven siblings.” 

“Eleven? Christ, your mom must be a saint.” 

“She’d like to think so,” June laughed. 

The rest of their walk home was filled with June’s childhood stories, Billie marveling at the similarities with her own upbringing. 

As she laid in bed that night Rosie came back to her mind. She wished she was able to get a better look at him. The problem with avoiding him was that she only got the barest of glimpses. One of these days she’d see him up close. She just wasn’t sure what was going to happen when she did. 

______________________________________________________________

When Billie made her way down to the hardstand to wait for the men to come back from the day’s mission she wasn’t surprised to see a group of airmen playing volleyball. They were laughing, messing around with each other. It always warmed Billie’s heart seeing the men act like they were back home. It was rare to feel normal, it was hard to be able to brush off the looming realities of war surrounding them. Billie was glad that they were able to live in the moment. It had been a while since she’d watched one of the games so she headed to that end of the strip. 

Billie was about twenty yards from the game when she recognized that Rosie was among them. Without even having to think about it, Billie immediately turned and started down in the opposite direction. She walked alongside the edge of the tarmac, saying polite hello’s to those who greeted her. Rosie wasn’t flying and that surprised her. She wondered what had happened, if something was wrong with him or the plane. She reasoned it was more likely something had happened to the fort, she’d have heard if Rosie was unable to fly. That sort of gossip wouldn’t stay quiet. 

“All done for the day?” Mae asked when Billie plopped down on the ground next to her.

“Done for now.” Billie had changed into a set of coveralls that Mae had lent her at the beginning of her stay at Thorpe Abbotts. She knew that she was gong to have to change back later that day when she had to go into the hospital for an inventory check but for the afternoon she was staying in pants. She missed being able to wear pants all the time. Billie pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She rested her head onto of her knees and looked at Mae. “How much longer until they’re back do you think?” 

“Should be any time.” Mae answered. Billie hummed and then closed her eyes. Mae worked in silence for only a couple minutes before asking, “Didn’t want to watch the game?” 

Billie knew Mae wouldn’t miss anything. “I wanted to hang out with you, is there anything wrong with that?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, you’re just deflecting.” 

“I’m not deflecting anything!” Billie’s head shot up as she shot a look at Mae. 

“You’re right. You’re in denial plain and simple.” Mae reasoned. 

“Come off it, Mae.” Billie was mortified to be speaking aloud about this, even though no one around them knew what they were talking about. Billie’s chest was tight knowing Rosie was just down the stretch. 

“You know he used to play baseball? Football too.” 

Billie groaned. “I did know, actually. You told me a couple of days ago at lunch.” 

“Doesn’t hurt to be reminded.” Mae shot Billie a wink. “Athletes tend to stick together, right?” 

“Are you trying to say you consider me an athlete? Because I’m going to have to put a stop to that right now.” 

“You’re as athletic as he is.” Mae reasoned. 

“But I don’t do anything athletic!” Billie pouted. 

“You run.”

“Other than running.” Billie dismissed Mae’s point with a flippant hand wave. 

“Are you trying to say you didn’t do anything athletic back home?” 

“I mean… yeah, I used to. But not anymore.”

“Just like he doesn’t anymore.” Mae was looking at her with a smug expression. 

Billie was cut off from responding by a group of the local kids running by them. One of them, Sammy, stopped to say hello to Mae.

“How’re you doing today, Sammy?” Mae asked. 

Sammy shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t look okay.” Billie commented. 

“Hey, do you want to see something fun?” Mae asked Sammy. Her eyes were twinkling like she had something up her sleeve. 

His eyes lit up. “What is it?” 

“Well, first I have to let you in on a little secret.” She used a finger to beckon Sammy closer and said in a quiet voice, “Nurse James here used to be in the circus.” 

“The circus!” Sammy shouted. He’d caught the attention of some of the other kids. “You were really in the circus?” He asked Billie. 

“I grew up in the circus.” Billie answered. 

Sammy’s eyes were wide with excitement. “With elephants?” 

“No, we didn’t have any elephants. But for a while we had a lion.” 

“You had a lion!” another kid, Billy, joined the conversation. “Did he ever bite anyone’s head off?”

“Sorry to say, Billy, no one lost their head to the lion.” 

“Why did you leave the circus when you had a lion?” Sammy asked. 

“Well I had to come here and help, didn’t I?” Billie simplified her past for the kids. 

Mae cut in, “Why don’t you ask her what she used to do in the circus.” 

“Mae—” Billie started but was cut off by questions from all around her asking what she could do. 

“Maybe if you are good she’ll show you something.” Mae egged on the kids. “I heard she can do a cartwheel.” 

“I can do a cartwheel too!” One of the girls, Mary, raised her hand. 

“Can you?” Billie asked with a smile. “Can I see?” 

“Only if you go too.” Mary reasoned and Billie laughed. 

“Fair enough. I walked right into that one didn’t I?” Billie got to her feet and followed the girl out to the other end of the hardstand and out onto the grass. 

Mary did a decent cartwheel and Billie and the others watching all clapped. “Wait, wait. I can do a better one! Wait!” Mary rushed out before Billie could take her turn. Billie was impressed with how seriously the girl was taking her cartwheel. Mary composed herself then did another cartwheel, this time in better form.

She was beaming when she came running back to Billie. “Now it’s your turn!” 

“Alright, alright.” Billie checked if the space was clear behind her before taking a good couple of steps back. She took a deep breath then said, “Here you go!” 

Billie did one cartwheel, and then another. A third cartwheel. She started what looked like a fourth cartwheel but instead Billie halfway into it she went up into a handstand. Now this was fun. Billie loved handstands, so much so that growing up Eddie would tease Billie for being steadier on her hands than feet. Walking on her hands Billie chased after Sammy who was cackling. 

Billie came to a stop then pushed her arms out to full extension, took a breath, and lowered her legs slowly into the splits. While her breath was steady her core was trembling; it felt so good. Billie knew she wasn’t going to fall but also that she was going to be feeling this for the next couple of days. She held the splits for only a moment before pushing off the ground and flipped herself right side up finishing the cartwheel. 

The kids swarmed around her, giggling and begging her to do it again. What else could she do? Does she know how to do a flip? Billie noticed that more heads were turned in her direction. She didn’t have an outright crowd, but the kids surrounding her weren’t the only ones watching. It took all of Billie’s self control to not look over at the far end where Rosie was playing volleyball. She didn’t want to know if any of them were looking at her. If she knew Rosie was looking at her Billie wouldn’t be able to handle it. But deep down she didn’t know if she was going to be able to get out of this one unseen. She couldn’t help but wonder what he would think about her doing something so unladylike. One of the girls tugged on Billie’s arm pulling her attention back to what she was doing. She blushed when she took in the girl’s eyes, wide with shock and awe. 

Even though Billie didn’t get cravings for an audience like the rest of her family she still appreciated aspects of the attention. It fed a sense of ego Billie was embarrassed to admit she had. It was one of her shameful secrets: she wanted to be remembered. As much as she hated her childhood and the way she was brought up, Billie knew there was a magic to the circus. It was an experience and something that stayed with attendees for the rest of their lives. People didn’t forget the circus and there were hundreds of people back in America that remembered Billie even if they didn’t know it was her. Everyone, no matter their age, ended up with the same childlike joy when they went to the circus. It was that reaction Billie cared about. It was only that reaction that pushed her to show off in front of the kids.

She desperately wanted to make sure the kids don’t forget about her. She wanted to live on through them. Less selfishly Billie wanted to counteract any bad vibes that may come when the mission came back. Entertaining people was work, but Billie was coming to think it was a necessary work. At least in these circumstances.

“Alright, alright. Give me some space.” Billie said gently. “Now just give me a moment.”

“What’s she going to do now?” The kids asked each other. 

Mae answered for Billie, who had turned and was walking further down the hardstand out of earshot. “I think you best find yourself a seat for the show and find out.” 

Billie spent her walk down the hardstand stretching out her arms and finished with a couple of lunges on each side. She was relatively warmed up but she didn’t think it would be wise to try and pull anything fancy. Her audience didn’t know what she could do, all they would care about was what she did. And she knew she could do enough to give them something to smile over. Once she felt like she was far enough away to have room for a couple of stunts Billie turned back around to face her audience. More men were looking at her than before but Billie let their stares roll off her back. 

Billie took a deep breath then jumped in place a couple of times. “Are you ready?” She yelled down to the group of kids huddled by Mae. Instead of waiting for their response Billie started running and leapt into a series of stunts that had her flying past the group huddled around Mae.  Billie couldn’t help but laugh when she stuck her final landing. The kids cheered while the onlooking adults clapped. Someone let out a whistle. It was such a gift to get such reactions. She vaguely registered there were more people looking her way but stayed focused on the kids. 

“Shall I go again?” She lifted a hand to cup behind her ear, waiting for the response she knew was coming. As soon as she heard the first cheer she set off tumbling back down along the hardstand. This time when she finished she sunk into a deep curtsy. 

When Billie pulled herself back up some of the kids were already at her side. She laughed as they talked over one another. It was so rare that Billie saw reactions to her tricks up close and personal that the reactions from the kids were overwhelming. She started to walk back to Mae but the kids were making it hard to move. Billie stumbled which caused the two kids in front to back up and give her more space. When Billie looked up after thanking them for giving her the space to move she was looking directly Rosie. 

And Rosie was looking at her. He had broken away from the game to stand where the grass met tarmac. He’d been watching Billie. His hands were on his hips and a smile was lighting up his face. It was a smile aimed at her, a smile because of her. He was looking at her like he was endeared by the sight of her barely being able to move with the kids surrounding her. She knew the kids were talking to her. She knew she should be paying them attention. But she couldn’t pull away from Rosie. 

She’d been wondering if it was all just a fluke; Billie had figured she’d made mountain out of a molehill. They had looked at each other once, it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. Billie had settled into thinking she was experiencing the effects of an overactive imagination and it being over a year since she’d had her last fling. 

But this wasn’t like what she had convinced herself. Because, again, the eye contact with Rosie felt like the most real thing she had ever experienced. She didn’t understand how something as simple as eye contact could make her feel like this. It felt like she was flying. They stared at each other from across the hardstand, neither one of them paying any attention to what was happening around them. 

Billie was ripped away from Rosie by one of the younger girls asking, “Can you go at it again? Oh please, can you?” 

“Come on, Susan,” Mae cut in. “Let Nurse James take a break and catch her breath.” 

“Just a quick breather and then I can go again.” Billie echoed what Mae said. 

Her face felt like it was bright red and she was looking everywhere but back at Rosie. Now that she’d broken the eye contact she was terrified to look back his way. 

A shout rang out, “I think I hear them!” Everyone’s attention went to the sky.

Sure enough, the hum of plane engines was building in the distance. As it grew louder it became clear that the engines didn’t sound right. From just the sounds of it, it was a rough mission. The first fort came into view— two engines down. Red flares. More forts broke through the clouds, red flares from almost all. Billie wanted to throw up. 

“Alright kids, time to get back home.” Mae called to the kids as she stared up at the planes coming in. Her face was blank, eyes empty. Billie knew she was thinking about who they lost this time. 

“Hey, Billie!” one of the ambulance drivers was jumping into the front seat of an ambulance parked back behind where Billie was standing. “Hop in, we’ll need your help.” 

Billie ran to the passenger seat and before she even closed the door they were off speeding down the tarmac to where the first plane had taxied to a stop. The call for an ambulance came from the co-pilot shouting out his window. Billie leapt to action, grabbing a stretcher and running over to where the men had started jumping out of the back hatch. 

“Come give us a hand!” 

Billie helped pull the wounded gunner out and loaded him onto the stretcher. They’d made it halfway to the ambulance when he looked up and made eye contact with Billie. He stared at her, glassy eyed and confused.

When he realized who she was he groaned, “You’re not going to drop me, are you?” 

“Trust me, Lieutenant, you would much rather have me carry you than try to patch you up. My girls Barbara and June are going to take much better care of you.” 

That seemed to comfort him and once they loaded him up into the ambulance Billie ran back into the mess. 

______________________________________________________________

It was one of the few sunny days they had seen at Thorpe Abbotts in a while and Billie refused to let it go to waste. It was only ever when the sun was out that she really remembered just how much she loved being in the sun. If her old self, the one who spent summers in the deep south, could see Billie now wishing for the sun and heat she’d lose it. Billie had managed to convince June to join her on a makeshift picnic not wanting to lounge alone in the fall sun. She had just sent June off to scavenge for something they could bring out for lunch. June had said she’d made friends with a woman who worked in the kitchens so Billie didn’t feel bad about putting her friend to work.

Once Billie got the blanket sorted she tossed down her book and sat down. It took a minute to find a comfortable position in her uniform skirt, but she eventually made do. Out of everything Billie had to adjust to when she became a nurse it was the skirts that were the hardest; Billie missed her pants. She grabbed the copy of Frankenstein she still hadn’t managed to finish and opened up the back cover. She pulled out a letter she’d stuffed there earlier and put the book back down on the ground next to her. 

Billie was proud of herself for waiting until June left her alone on the blanket to open her brother’s letter. It had taken every ounce of strength but Billie knew she needed to wait until she was alone to take in her brother’s words. It was different now. Despite what her anxiety prepared her for it was a fairly normal and simple letter. There was a story about his friends, questions about how she was holding up, and reassurances that he was okay. Eddie’s voice practically jumped from the page making it easy for Billie to hear her younger brother’s enthusiasm. He was having fun on this grand adventure or however it was young boys looked at war. Billie’s heart tightened as she thought about how naive Eddie was, how young and innocent. She’d been seeing her brother’s face in almost every new recruit lately. It was getting tiring. 

Billie was so focused on the letter that she just barely registered someone sitting down next to her. She was surprised; she didn’t think June would get back so soon. She opened her mouth to say as such but—

“That from Eddie?” 

That was not June’s voice. Billie straightened up to full attention, her head snapping to the side where the voice came from. It was Rosie. 

His face was about a foot from hers and Billie couldn’t help but suck in a breath in surprise. Her face flamed. He leaned back, and what looked like a blush dusted his cheeks. At least she wasn’t alone in being embarrassed. The air between them felt charged. 

Right, he’d asked her a question. She had no idea how he knew her brother’s name but she answered, “Yeah, it’s from Eddie.” She looked back down at the letter in her hands. “They’re in the middle of training. He says he’s having a lot of fun.” 

“Well that’s good news.” he smiled reassuringly. 

“It is,” She agreed. “It’s just…” Billie raised her eyes to meet his again. “It’s not going to stay fun. Not for much longer.”

He gave her a soft smile, maintaining eye contact. He didn’t need to say anything for her to know he understood what she was trying to say. 

“But enough about me.” Billie twisted her body a bit so that she was facing Rosie a bit more head on. If he was going to act as if they were already five conversations in she would follow along. She waved a hand to gesture he should take the floor. “How is your day going?” 

“It’s going better now I’ll tell you that.”

“Oh is it now?” 

“It’s a recipe for success: a free afternoon, sunny and clear sky, and my favorite girl next to me.” 

Billie’s heart skipped a couple beats. “Is that right?” 

“I said it so it must be true.” Rosie’s smile warmed her right up like a double shot of whiskey. He wasn’t what she was expecting at all. She enjoyed the surprise, wondered where else it was going to go. They were already so far beyond any of her fantasies. Everything was so surreal. 

He picked up her book and thumbed through it. “How are you liking it so far?” 

“It’s good. Better than Moby Dick was. At least with this I can mostly follow along.” She thought about explaining herself but she doesn’t want to get into her sob story about wishing she could’ve gone to real school. 

“I think I know what you should read next.”

“A book recommendation? I’m flattered.” Billie briefly worried she sounded sarcastic but she meant it. Luckily Rosie’s answering smile told her he understood her perfectly. 

“The Great Gatsby. I’ve read it twice and it just gets better with each read. Plus it’s not that old so it’ll be far easier to understand than this.” He lifted the book in the air. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the classics.” Billie couldn’t help but think Rosie looked adorable as he tried to cover his bases in case he insulted her somehow. 

“Thank you, I appreciate the recommendation. I’ll check it out once I finish this. It was hard enough giving up on one book I don’t think I could forgive myself if it happens a second time.” 

Rosie smiled wider at that and Bille felt like she could explode from the inside out. “I can give you recommendations on anything, anytime you’d like.” 

Billie’s heart skipped a beat. Rosie was looking around trying to act cool. Billie could only see the side of his face and it was bright red.  

She debated what to say to cover the tension but then decided to lean into it instead of avoiding the awkwardness. Plus she liked seeing him blush. “How did you know my brother’s name?” 

Her question made Rosie squirm a little and Billie found herself thrilled at the response. She had an affect on him. He was reacting because of her. She felt oddly powerful, like some sort of mild femme fatale. It had been a long time since she was in a position like this with a man. It was way back before she ran away from home that she’d had her last fling.  

“I asked around about you.” Rosie confessed.

Her jaw dropped. “Really? What did people say?” She needed to know. 

He nodded. “Well I heard a couple of stories about some blood draws and stitches.” Billie groaned at his words and her face heated with embarrassment. Of course that would be her reputation.

“You’re fine.” Rosie sweetly reassured. He rubbed a hand down her back reassuringly. Billie’s chest constricted at the contact. Was this really happening? Rosie continued, “I also heard that you somehow seem to know something about every airman’s hometown. You can juggle, play darts, and like jazz.” 

“I wouldn’t say almost every airman, realistically it’s more like a handful.” Billie reasoned. Her face felt like it was on fire. 

“I gotta say, though.” Rosie said. “You don’t make sense to me.”

“I don’t make sense?” Why did that feel like it was the most true thing anyone had ever said about her? 

“It’s just that to some people you’re this quiet unassuming nurse but I’ve heard you do more than nursing. Supposedly you’re always running around looking for something to do or someone to help. It’s like you’re trying to do a bit of everything.” 

Billie didn’t know how to respond to that. “I feel like two different people sometimes.” Billie said softly. “It’s just that when I’m nursing …” she shook her head as she trailed off. 

“I want to know more about you.” Rosie said boldly. But he said it in the sweetest gentle voice. He was treating her with a delicate care she didn’t think she’d ever receive. 

Billie felt like she was going to have a heart attack. She was used to forward sexual advances, used to midnight trysts and pillow talk and never speaking again. She had no experience on the real getting to know you part of romantic feelings. “What do you want to know?” She asked. 

“Everything.” He answered. “I never want to stop learning things about you.” 

Billie stared at his face, taking him in. She’d been thinking about him for so long. For over a month she’d been left with her memory and fantasies. But now he was real. And the real Rosie wanted to know about her. “Come off it, you sweet talker.” her instinct was to attempt to tease. “You don’t mean that.” 

“I’m serious.” Rosie insisted. How was this happening? Billie was in disbelief. The possibility of him being this interested in her hadn’t been one of the scenarios she’d imagined would happen when she finally met Rosie. Attraction, maybe. This curiosity? No. 

“Alright then.” She straightened her posture and smiled at Rosie. “Pick something. You have to start somewhere or you’ll never get anywhere.” 

He looked unsure for a moment so Billie reassured, “You can ask about anything. I’m an open book with you.” With him she’d be anything he wanted. 

After thinking for a moment, staring up at the sky, he hesitantly asked, “How did you end up here? I mean, you normally hear about people running away to join the circus not people running from the circus.” Rosie seemed to be trying not to offend her, it was sweet.

Billie thought for a moment. She reached out to where the edge of the blanket met the grass. She ripped out a couple of blades. “My story is the same as everyone else��s I suppose. I felt like I should help so I did.” She shrugged then elaborated. 

“A lot of our performers over the years have been European so I was tracking the war for a while through them. Hearing about what was happening to their homes, their families… I knew it was only a matter of time until we got pulled in.” She took a breath. She wasn’t sure how deep she wanted to get with him. She had said that she would answer anything and Rosie deserved her full truth. “I’d wanted to run away from home my whole life. Growing up in the circus I couldn’t help but want a normal life.” She let out a weak laugh, “You know, for the longest time my dream was to live in one place for longer than three months. How sad is that.”

“But you’ve done that now.” Rosie gestured to the base around then. 

“I’ve done that now, you’re right.” She smiled at him, getting lost in his eyes again for a moment. She blinked. “Anyways, Pearl Harbor happened and it was all too real. I realized just how silly the circus is and how pointless my life was there. I wanted to be somewhere where I mattered.” She cleared her throat. “So I saw an advertisement for all the ways women could help the war effort and signed up. Since I had a basic understanding of first aid I felt like nursing was my best chance to do some good.” She laughed at how silly she’d been thinking she would make a good nurse and looked down at the grass in her hands. She stacked the blades together and then ripped them in half. “Plus I figured this way I could see whether or not I can handle the real world. My family wants me to come back after the war but I think I’d like to stay away.” 

“You’ve run away once, why would you want to do it again?” Rosie said. He was looking at her like he understood exactly how she was feeling. It was overwhelming.

“Exactly.” She raised her hand to toss the ripped up grass back out onto the ground next to the blanket. Rosie grabbed her hand from the air and Billie gasped. He was certainly forward but Christ, did she not mind. 

He lightly traced his finger along the scar on her palm, still red after her activities on the hardstand the day before. His touch gave her goosebumps. She didn’t dare say anything. She was too afraid of spoiling the moment. It seemed like Rosie had taken her hand without considering what he was doing. Billie couldn’t believe that she was really sitting out in the open with Rosie with him caressing her hand. She thought about her hands, her rough skin. The faint calluses that would probably never go away. Her hands weren’t smooth and pretty like the girls Billie figured Rosie was used to. He seemed like the type to fit in with the girls like Rebecca, the smart college girls with everything put together. But he was holding her hand, not Rebecca’s. For a moment Billie imagined what they looked like, sat close together and touching like this. Out in the open where anyone could walk by and see them. People would jump to conclusions. But… would she really mind? She shouldn’t be letting him touch her but he was treating her with a sort of reverence she didn’t think she deserved. She felt special and she wasn’t used to that. He let go of her hand and she slowly brought it back to her lap. 

“So were the clown rumors wrong?” Rosie asked.

“Is that what people are saying, that I’m a clown?” Billie laughed loud and bright. “At least there’s not a bet about it, or is there?” She thought for a brief moment then asked, “What did you think I did?” 

“I thought you could be anything and everything.”

“That’s not a real answer.” Billie teased. “But it’s funny you would say that because in the end there I really did a bit of everything.” She listed them off on her fingers, “Training, teaching, childcare, cooking, building stages, setting up lighting rigging, horseback riding” she trailed off, thinking. “Growing up in it I had no choice but learn how to fill any possible part that would need it. For the sake of the bet, however,” She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. “I was the best at the trapeze.” 

Billie looked up through her eyelashes at Rosie and couldn’t help but smile. He was so pretty up close. How had she avoided him for so long? She cleared her throat and sat back up. “We can pretend I didn’t tell you and you can get in on the bet if you’d like. I won’t even make you split it with me.” 

“You’re too kind.” Rosie chuckled. “But there was no bet, don’t you worry about it.” He lightly elbowed Billie in the side as he assured her. She loved the playful teasing. “The trapeze, huh? Flying up in the air?” Rosie asked. 

Billie blushed and nodded. She liked the look of awe in Rosie’s eyes. “I used to be in the shows more when I was younger but…” She shook her head to clear out a memory. “But now I’m an understudy and mostly help people train. Or back before the war I did. I’m here with you now.” She loved saying that, with you. She wanted to keep saying it to him. She couldn’t help but want to say it forever. 

It was quiet between them for a moment and Billie was struck by how much she didn’t mind the silence. It was comforting simply being around Rosie. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back to try and soak up the warmth from the sun they rarely saw. She was utterly blissed out. She hadn’t been this happy in ages. She felt so safe. 

Rosie’s voice pulled her back to reality by asking, “What’s it like, being in the air?” 

Billie opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Rosie again. “What do you mean?” She knew what he meant but still joked, “You go up in the air constantly you would know.”

“But not like you. My air is nothing like yours.”

Billie smiled. She looked up at the sky, raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. She considered her answer. “I’d still bet we feel the same. I mean… I don’t know. There’s really nothing quite like it. I think it’s the only place I’ll ever feel free. Everything happens so fast it’s exhilarating.”

The sounds of laughter and cheers, shouts from some game or another comes from over the mess building. Billie thought about seeing Rosie the other day playing and blushed. He was having so much fun it was adorable. She wondered if he missed playing sports.

Rosie seemed to have followed her train of thought because he commented, “You looked like you were having fun yesterday.” 

Billie reached her arms out and leaned back to go to her original position of leaning back on her arms but when she put her left hand down it covered two of Rosie’s fingers. Her eyes jumped to his face and met his own eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure what she should do, leave it alone or acknowledge it somehow. She didn’t move, holding her breath. A beat passed, then two. Then Rosie moved his hand from under hers and brought down to fully cover Billie’s instead. She felt her face heat and she looked away from Rosie. But she didn’t move her hand. 

“I did have fun yesterday.” She said. “Playing with the kids is always a treat. How about you? How was volleyball? Did it make you miss your athlete days?” 

“Now what do you know about my athlete days?” His thumb rubbed the top of her hand. Goosebumps ran up Billie’s arms. 

“Just that they happened. That you’re talented.” she couldn’t stop herself. “You’re good with your men, and everyone respects you as they should. They prepared you well for being out here. You’re good at what you do.” she felt like she could go on and on but cut herself off before she got carried away. She desperately didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

His eyes were wide and she was pleased to see a blush on his face. “You’re not the only one who did some asking around, you can’t judge me.” She said. 

“No judgement.” He shook his head. “I’m flattered. Relieved.” He gave a weak laugh like he couldn’t believe what was happening to him. “No,” he finally answered. “I don’t miss my days of being a jock. It feels like I’m on a team here in some twisted way.” 

“That makes sense. War is a team sport of sorts.” Billie had to admit. 

The two settled into a conversation that started with the Yankees then turned to New York and the differences between the city and the countryside they now resided in. Things got quiet between them. The air was filled with sounds of the base around them. Life was moving on forward but for them it was still. Billie and Rosie seemed to be in their own bubble that both hoped would never end. But knew it had to. 

Billie looked at her watch and let out a groan. It was time to get moving to the hospital for her shift or else she’d be late. And she couldn’t stand to be late again. She turned to look directly at Rosie with a deep frown on her face. 

“I have to get going to work now.”

“Is that the case?” 

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then let’s get you on your way, shall we?” 

They stood and worked together to fold up the blanket. Billie held it tightly to her chest. Rosie  offered his arm out to her which she took, blushing. At this point she figured her face was just going to stay red whenever she was around Rosie. 

They talked as they walked, slower than Billie should’ve but she didn’t have it in her to pick up the pace. Now that she had Rosie she didn’t want to let him go. Selfishly she wanted him all to herself. She wished she could always stay by his side. Obsessed. She was obsessed and needed to calm down. But it was hard when Rosie seemed to be hanging on her every word. 

After a brief lull in the conversation Rosie said, “You know, I’ve been hoping I would run into you. I’m glad it’s finally happened.” 

Somehow Billie sensed that this was something he was nervous to share. “What do you mean?” She asked. 

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” he reasoned, “but when I saw you that night it was like my world stopped. Everything collapsed in on itself until it was just you and me and nothing has ever felt more right to me.” 

Billie was astounded. There was no way this was happening. She thought it was just her. But he had felt the same thing.  There was no way that something like this could happen to a girl like her. 

Rosie continued, “But you were always just out of reach. It felt like you were running away from me for a while. It didn’t make sense how I couldn’t find you, I mean the base isn’t that big.” He let out a self deprecating laugh. “I know it was all in my head, why would you be running away from me? What I mean to say is that I’m glad to be walking with you, talking with you.” He smiled sweetly at her and Billie felt her heart stop. “Thankful that you’re letting me be with you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, really.” Billie quietly insisted. 

“You know, for a bit I thought I imagined you. You were such a vision that night you didn’t seem real. You seemed the sort of thing a lonely boy would dream up after a rough mission. But then at the flak house Ron started talking about this nurse who lived with the circus and I knew it had to be you. It couldn’t be anyone else. Once I knew you were real I knew there was nothing for me to worry about.” He patted the hand she had resting on his arm. 

Billie was struck by his honesty. She’d never been with a man this open and upfront about how he was feeling. She supposed that when you regularly faced death you stopped holding things back. It was only fair for her to do the same. It was time for her to make a confession. If for no other reason than she felt like she owed it to whatever was happening between them to lean into the honesty. 

“I hate to say it, really, but you weren’t imagining anything.” Billie didn’t look at him when she said it. 

Now it was his turn to ask, “What do you mean?” Rosie slowed them down but didn’t stop walking.

“I wasn’t running away from you I was just … avoiding situations where we might cross paths.”

Rosie looked shattered. “Why would you do that?”

“You terrify me.” Billie simply said. 

At that Rosie brought them to a stop. “I scare you?”

“More than anything else.” Billie felt ridiculous saying it but she had to. “Nothing compares to you, could ever compare to you.” She looked down at her hands. A thought popped into her head that she didn’t want to ask but she couldn’t stop herself. “Why didn’t you chase after me?” 

They were about a hundred yards from the hospital. She knew she shouldn’t be having this conversation out where anyone could come up and ruin whatever this was. There were enough people around that it was only a matter of time until someone came and stole Rosie’s attention from her. 

“I wasn’t sure how to make ‘we made eye contact once and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since’ not sound creepy and off-putting. So I kept to myself.” he shrugged. “I had this feeling that it would happen eventually so I didn’t try to force it even though I’d hoped it would happen sooner.”

“I know what you mean. Even when I was avoiding you I knew it was pointless. I was only delaying the inevitable.” she shrugged. 

“Well we’re here now.” Rosie said. 

“Here we are.” Billie agreed. 

“Together.” Rosie smiled at her and Billie felt warmed all the way down to her toes. 

“Together.” She repeated with a giggle. 

“Billie!” June’s voice rang through the air. She was standing in front of the hospital, gesturing to her watch. Billie got the gist. It was time to get moving. 

She looked to say goodbye to Rosie but he said, “We never introduced ourselves.”

“Do we have to? We know who we are. Both of us asked around about each other.” Billie thought it was a bit pointless.

“It’s the polite thing to do, come on.” Rosie insisted. 

Billie pulled her arm from his and took a step away and turned to face Rosie. She dipped into a quick curtsy then stuck out her hand. “Billie James. Circus runaway. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

Rosie took her hand and gave it a firm shake. “Lieutenant Robert Rosenthal, but I’d like it if you called me Rosie.”

“That the only thing you’d like me to call you?” She raised an eyebrow with her lips stretched in a smirk. Rosie blushed but gave back a smile of his own as he matched her energy. 

“Oh I’m sure we can figure something else out, just you and me.” 

“I’d like that.” Billie said. They were still shaking hands, looking dopily at each other. 

“Billie! Let’s go!” June was getting close to being actually upset which was saying something. June tended to be the most even keel of their little group. 

She pulled her hand from his and started walking backwards towards the hospital, still facing Rosie. “It was lovely meeting you, Rosie.”

“It was past time, wouldn’t you say?”

“Beyond.” Billie agreed. “Thank you for spending time with me.” She turned before she could hear Rosie’s response. She broke into a light jog then burst through the door as she rushed out apologies to June. 

“I’m sorry I lost track of time.”       

“I should’ve known it was going to happen when I set him on you.” June reasoned. 

“You did this?” Billie never would’ve guessed June would be the type to meddle. 

“Yes, you’re welcome, I expect to be a bridesmaid in your wedding. Now get situated. We have more to get done than I thought. I still got you something to eat though.” June gestured to the back closet where they stored any personal things. 

“You’re an angel.” Billie gave June a quick hug. 

She could tell her friend was stressed and didn’t want to add any more than she already had, so Billie snapped to it and got right to work. June was right, there were enough patients and projects to keep her busy well into the shift. It wasn’t until she had a brief moment to eat some of the food June had gotten from the mess hall that she thought about Rosie. Or rather let herself keep thinking about Rosie. She didn’t think it was possible for her to stop thinking about Rosie. Nothing felt real. But it was. 

[scekrex]

Hello! Can I request episode 8!Adam x Cannibal!Riader, where he is one of the ones protecting the hotel (Primarily to eat, obviously). At that moment, when Nifty pierces Adam with a dagger, Reader takes him to himself, first to eat him, but then, imbued with this angel, decides that a living Adam is better for him than a dead one. At the same time, Reader himself continues to joke about how one day he will eat his flesh :)

(I would like to apologize in advance for my English, I am still learning and therefore use a translator)

Okay first of all: you don't need to apologize for your english sweetface, you're doing great okay? And second I'd like to apologize that it took me so long to write it.

A kingdom of torment that never dies

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, canon typical violence, cannibalism

note: not beta read bc fuck you

The smell of divine blood hung in the air, a smell you surely would not be able to forget. The golden liquid had painted the ground and while the corpses on the ground were tasting so much better than sinner flesh, it wasn’t giving you the rush you had expected to get out of it.

That was until your hand grabbed a hold of one of the flying angel’s ankles, a firm yank brought the woman crashing onto the ground. Your body was running on autopilot, high off the smell of divine blood and the sight of your next meal. The angel was screaming, trying to kick you. Her weapon was out of her reach, she had dropped it before her face had met the ground due to the surprise and shock your attack had caused. She flapped her wings, desperate to get away from you, but none of it worked out.

Fear had filled the creature’s eyes, but there was no mercy left inside of you, not when you felt so hungry. Your body’s instincts were strong, too strong for you to fight them off so the only thing you found yourself able to do was to give into them and feast. Your teeths unk down into the angel’s flesh, the scream that tore from her throat and sounded like her vocal cords were ripping apart sounded dull to you, muffled even. Every sound that was made sounded like your ears were filled with cotton, the only clear thought in your mind was that your body craved food more than anything. You were hungry, oh so desperately hungry and the taste that filled your mouth as you bit a chunk of flesh out of the angel’s leg which you had pulled up close to your face, leaving the winged creature dangling upside down, was truly something different. The angelic corpses tasted delicious already but feasting on one of them while she was still alive? That truly was somethíng different, it gave you the rush you had hoped for, made you feel like the king of the world.

But then her foot met your face, the impact was hard and sudden which caused you to stumble backwards a little. Your hand slipped from her ankle and she managed to escape - oh what a shame that your food got away. It was only then that you realized that the angels were not reforming, they were leaving. The portal to heaven shone bright on the blood red sky and you watched as your new favorite meal seemed to retreat. Your eyes drank in your surroundings. The hotel was destroyed, when did that happen? The angelic corpses on the ground were slowly dragged away by the other cannibals and just as you were about to grab one yourself and leave, you spotted the gleaming golden wings of their leader - so that was why they suddenly had been eager to leave Hell. Charlie and her friends had managed to take down their leader, without him the army seemed rather useless.

So before any of your friends was able to claim the first man, you made your way over to the golden winged creature to claim him as yours. You were aware that a cold corpse would taste less good than a warm one, yet you wanted to enjoy the taste and pride that came with eating the first man and therefore you decided to take him with you.

His blood smelled different from the others - no matter if dead or alive. He smelled tainted, impure and yet still angelic and divine enough to be roaming Heaven’s realms. Something about their leader was different, not only his smell but also the fact that his heart was still beating, you were able to hear it like a drum.

Beat - silence - silence - silence - beat - silence - silence - silence - beat.

It was slow, weak and struggled with pumping blood through Adam’s body due to the amount of wounds his body suffered from. If he would continue to bleed in the way he did, the tall angel would bleed out in no time. You knew that those pure creatures tasted better alive so you made sure to press fabric to his wounds in order to stop the bleeding - and surprisingly that worked better than you had thought it would. The bleeding stopped rather quickly despite the fact that a dagger had been pierced through his chest multiple times - a thing that made you wonder if the angelic healing process worked any different from the sinners’.

-

Dragging this gigantic creature home had been quite the struggle but you had managed it nonetheless and now he was resting in your bed, fogging the air inside your apartment - and probably the air outside of the building you were living in too - with the delicious smell of his blood. Oh how you craved to eat this man right then and there. But alive this man would be worth more - maybe enough to get you noticed and seen. He was the first man after all - he surely would attract attention and with attention a higher status would follow. So keeping him alive was the smarter decision long term wise.

A grunt came from the brunette - it was almost inaudible but your ears had picked the sound up despite that. Your head snapped to the side, eyeing as the first man slowly sat up in the bed he was resting in his hand reached up to hold his head in pain, he was seemingly feeling dizzy, not that you were able to blame him, he had lost quite a lot of blood.

“What the fuck?” the angel asked quietly, talking to himself, as his palm covered his chest. His chest, which was still covered in blood. A deep and hungry sounding chuckle vibrated through your body as you leaned towards the first man, making yourself noticeable, “A creature as fucking sweet as you might end up eaten after all.”

[warriorteam1924]

My body’s aching

John Deacon x Veronica Tetzlaff

Author note : Hello my beauties. I'm back for John's birthday of course !! I’ve been super busy lately and I’m aware it’s not my best piece, but  I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, it’s always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isn’t my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.

Warnings : none really, just my awful writing. and a slight sexual innuendo…. 

Summary : a slight problem on a birthday morning

Words count : 1,243 words

Permanent taglist : @reavenedges-lies​ @thosequeenboys​ @born-to-lose​  @orionis8689​ @queenlover05​​ (communicate with me regarding tagging please)

As he usually did, John Deacon went to bed at a reasonable hour that day. He kissed his wife goodnight and got comfy under the cover, the fresh air coming from the window cooling the room’s atmosphere. He wasn’t thinking at all that the following day would be his birthday. Not that he didn’t care at all, but at this very moment, all he wanted was a good night’s rest. After all, he was going to be 72 in a few hours, he had to take care of his sleep schedule, since he wasn’t 23 anymore.

Dreams. John didn’t have many of them, or at least it didn’t recall them very much.  A few fragments, snippets of actions or moments in the blur, faces or vague figures but nothing more. All he knew was that he moved a lot during his sleep, and apparently it was according to his dreams, to the actions he was making while he was in dreamland. His wife never complained about it, she just mentioned it a few times, curious as for what her husband could have been dreaming of.

This night, Veronica noticed her husband was particularly agitated, and hoped he was not having a nightmare. Thanks to the weak light that was in the room, she looked at his face, ready to wake him up in case he was in distress. But his face seems happy, more than happy even, so Veronica gently kissed his cheek and went back to sleep.

John was also usually an early bird, waking up first in the house. He usually went downstairs to make coffee and this day being his birthday didn’t mean he would have waited to be served like a kid on his special day. Just like he did every morning when he was waking up by her side, he looked at his wife for a moment, as she was still slightly snoring, gently rocked within Morpheus’ arms. He turned around to get up.

“OUUUUUUUUUUUUCHHHHHHH”, John let out a loud scream of pain, brutally waking his wife.

“Oh my God, John, are you okay?”, she asked, terribly worried.

“My back, my back is stuck, oh lord it hurts so bad, what the hell???”, John explained, complained and cursed all at once.

“Are you able to move at all ? what’s going on?”, Ronnie asked, still incredibly concerned.

“I can’t, I’m stuck….”, Deaky said as he put back his head on the pillow.

“Hold on, I’m gonna get some painkillers right now and I’m going to try to massage you”, his wife said as she energetically went out of bed to get what she needed to help her husband.

John looked at her, with a mix of anger given how quickly and easily got out of their bed. She rapidly came back with a glass of water and a painkiller, which John put in his mouth right away. He swallowed, as his back was still tense, hoping the tablet would be efficient soon.

“Okay, turn around now.”, Ronnie firmly said.

“Excuse me?”, John replied, raising his eyebrow.

“I’m gonna massage you, silly. Shoo, turn around”, she repeated as she made a motion with his hands to illustrate her words.

“Oh, no Ronnie I’m going to be fine, don’t worry.”, John said, trying to avoid a massage.

“John Richard Deacon, you better lay on your stomach right now or else I’m going to do it myself and I’m not going to be gentle.”, she warned him, very seriously.

John looked at her, confused. Was she really going to use force to give him a massage? He wasn’t sure, but she seemed extremely serious. As a result, John complied, gently laying his stomach, waiting.

He felt his wife’s soft hands on his skin, making him shiver.

“I hope my hands are not too cold…. Where is it painful?”, she asked, this time way more gently.

“My lower back seems stuck….”, John replied, his head between two pillows.

“Okay, let’s see….”, Ronnie carried on, as she put some lotion on her husband’s back.

John slightly arched at the sensation, but tried to remain still, so that the massage, combined to the painkillers, would be useful. Deaky suddenly heard his wife giggle.

“Are you mocking me?”, John complained, his voice muffled given his position.

“No no, of course not. I just had this silly thought of me being a Dom right now, doing erotic stuff to you….”, she explained, tittering again.

“Ronnie, do you really think this is the right moment to think about sex?”, John asked, as he was still feeling his wife’s hands massaging him on his back.

She got closer to his ear, whispering : “it’s always the right moment to remind my husband I love him and I still have a strong desire for him”.

John felt his cheeks suddenly getting hotter and probably as red as the most mature tomato one could ever see. As a reply, he only let out a soft ‘hum’, a smile still appearing on his lips.

And then, all of a sudden, and since his wife had mentioned the topic, John remembered. Fragments, like he often did, but he remembered.

He remembered a passionate moment with his wife in his dream, his skin pressed on hers, the ardent kisses they were sharing, his hips rocking on hers.

And he remembered how his last thrust as he was reaching orgasm made him arche his back strongly. His body surely moved as well as he was dreaming, hence his back blocked as he woke up.

“John?”, Ronnie asked. “The massage is done, are you okay? You’ve been very quiet”, she worried.

“Yes, thank you, honey.”, John replied, as he got into a more comfortable position, to breathe properly.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re as red a as tomato?”, Ronnie asked.

“Yup, all good, I’m feeling better already. I’m be up soon.”, John tried to reassure her.

Yet, the two of them had been married for a very long time now, and even if Ronnie was no mind reader, she knew her husband so very well. She looked at him in silence for a few seconds and a smile appeared on her lips.

“We did have a steamy night in your dream, right? And you took me so intensely that your back got stuck, right?”, she asked, a mischievous smile on her lips.

“Oh god, Ronnie, what the hell?”, John tried to fake being shocked after her insinuations.

“Try and tell me I’m wrong. After all, there is nothing to be ashamed of…. Even in our vows, we said ‘I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.’….”, she reminded him.

“Yes, okay, yes, that’s true. Happy?”, John confessed, his feeling switching from being ashamed, and slightly irritated.

Ronnie was still looking at him with a mischievous smile. She got closer and kissed him on his soft lips.

“Try and get better so that after the kids are gone, we can celebrate your birthday properly, just the two of us.”, she said with a wink.

She got up and left the room, leaving John with his thoughts. He spoke out loud, as if he was warning his back.

“You better get back on the right tracks buddy, because tonight’s gonna be the night….”.

That day was surely to be a very unusual birthday….

[sanakotsu]

Romantic? Date Translation

Quantified Feelings of Love and Hate/Chapter 6

Writer: Akira Season: Winter Characters: Mayoi, Tatsumi, Kohaku

Translation: Sankotsu Proofread: @boozuru

Mayoi: But when I saw Tatsumi, I immediately felt all my worries disappear! As expected, Tatsumi-san is a saint who is always saving someone like me!

Kohaku: Uh, so.

All of us are here to help HiMERU-han?

Hm~ I guess it’s because we had an easier time with yesterday’s shoot compared to those two.

Mayoi: ...

Kohaku: Can someone respond already? I’m getting lonely from how much it feels like I’m talking to myself.

Mayoi: Oh, um, yes! I apologize! Anzu-san sure is quiet!

Since you’re such a skilled producer, there should be no problem with you acting as a superior and giving orders!

Kohaku: And? You’ve been acting suspiciously. Plus you haven’t contributed to this conversation at all and you’re just slowly slipping away.

It must be because you don’t want to help your friend Tatsumi-han, or even the heinous Crazy:B.

Mayoi: I would never! I don’t see Crazy:B that way at all! In fact, I feel as though we’re peas of a pod since our units debuted at the same time…!

Kohaku: I see. Well, that’s troublesome. I know I’m contradicting myself, but you shouldn’t try to get all buddy-buddy with us.

Mayoi: I, um, was actually hoping to get closer to you on a personal level since it would be terrible of me to hurt you

Kohaku: …? I don’t know what you’re going on about but let’s get along at least for this job. Here, let’s shake hands~♪

Mayoi: Kyaaaaaa?!

Kohaku: …Jeez, that scared me. Why are you yelling all of a sudden?

Mayoi: I’m sorry for catching you off guard! My heart and mind were colliding and made a metallic sound!

Kohaku: Your heart is made of metal?

Mayoi: The impulsive thoughts that wanted to go rampant were being held back by my logic that I call restraint! It’s still unreliable and weak though…!

Kohaku: You're unexpectedly a weird guy, I can’t even keep a conversation with you. Didn’t you have an easy time yesterday when you were paired with Niki-han?

So you are someone who can do it if he tries.

Mayoi: It’s not that. I don’t even know why we got the OK yesterday! That’s why I don’t know what to do now that I’m paired with Tatsumi-san…!

Tatsumi: ...

Mayoi: Ah, Tatsumi-san! Tatsumi-sa~n! It’s Mayoi…! It was difficult to talk to these people I don’t know very well while walking with them!

But when I saw Tatsumi, I immediately felt all my worries disappear! As expected, Tatsumi-san is a saint who is always saving someone like me...!

Tatsumi: Mayoi-san…Anzu-san, Kohaku-san. Good morning everyone.

Kohaku: Oh, good morning. Hm? Wasn’t HiMERU-han with you?

Tatsumi: (Sigh) We ran into a bit of trouble.

Mayoi: (Uu… I want to hide behind Tatsumi-san! I want to be enveloped by the kindness and warmth he radiates from his whole being!)

(But if I were to move right now, I’m sure it would look suspicious…!)

Tatsumi: Is something wrong, Mayoi-san? You’re fidgeting.

Speaking of which, even though we were told in advance, you really did get someone to help us, Anzu-san.

Kohaku: What do you mean?

Tatsumi: Um, well. As you may be aware, yesterday our pair��HiMERU and Tatsumi Kazehaya—were struggling and couldn’t get a single good take.

So in the end, we couldn’t complete our job.

Kohaku: It sure looked like it. We didn’t know what HiMERU-han was so embarrassed since he didn’t want to tell us anything.

Tatsumi: Fufu. His pride gets in the way of consulting his friends for help.

As for me, I told ALKALOID everything yesterday.

Mayoi: You sound…oddly happy to say that…?

Tatsumi: Fufu. That’s because if there’s something you can’t do, it means there’s still room for you to grow.

It’s especially important for ALKALOID to know because I’m often seen as “the big brother who can seemingly do everything” with them.

I feel better knowing that they understand that’s not how I actually am.

Mayoi: Uu…too bright… You’re so optimistic, Tatsumi-san. Even when you’re having problems or feeling worried, you never let it show. Ah…I want to rely on you…!

Kohaku: But isn’t this situation technically not your guys’ fault? It’s all up to the higher-ups on whether or not they say a take is good.

Tatsumi: Yes. This troublesome situation was unexpected. Even with all the time we had yesterday, we got nowhere despite our best efforts.

So we decided to consult Anzu-san yesterday since we realized our efforts alone wouldn’t be enough to get over this hurdle.

We’re grasping at straws not knowing what to do.

❀ ꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎ ❀

➸ previous ❀ all ❀ next ❀

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: “Take Me Home to Your Arms”

(For this week’s Self Promo Sunday, here’s a little piece I wrote back during the hiatus between 5a and 5b. Certainly, like many of us at the time, I was wondering what might be happening to Killian in the Underworld and how Emma and the rest were going to get him back. This little Underworld spec fic was one of my attempts to answer those questions. It’s obviously canon-divergent now, and I apologize in advance for the Killian trauma. It's not that I want to hurt him, but this was the image of the Underworld and its suffering which first took root in my head, even if it didn’t go that way, and I truly wanted to see Emma come to his rescue, just as he has decided to go after her and fight for her so many times, whatever the risk to himself and his own safety.)

(The title and opening lyrics are from the song "Take Me Home" by US.)

**Can also be found on AO3 and ff.net

By: @snowbellewells

"I'm only happy when I'm with you, home for me is where you are…

I won't be happy 'til I'm with you, home for me is where you are,

These four walls mean nothing without you, home for me is where you are,

They tell me that I'll make it, it'll only be a while, but a while lasts forever without you;

Send out the alarms, I'm all alone,

Wrap me in your arms and take me home…"

Her footsteps fell quickly on the pavement, frantic in the dark. Emma Swan couldn't sleep, couldn't rest, couldn't stop. She could not wait any longer, and she wasn't sure why she had hesitated as long as she did, how she hadn't realized she could get to her pirate and find him sooner; the desperation now so intense it nearly possessed her.

Surprisingly, Regina of all people was the one only two steps behind her, anxious to find "Captain Guyliner". For all of the ways the queen and the pirate argued, needled, and harassed each other to the point of distraction, clearly – despite her derision of Hook and talk of his faults – the regal had missed her favorite "nemesis" and sparring partner more than she would ever admit aloud. That Regina took Emma's part when the others questioned the possibility of her plan, that Regina spoke up of her own accord and agreed it could work, meant the world to Emma. It had set them all in motion and brought them to the edge of the lake. It was only a matter of time before she made her way to Killian's side again.

Though Gold had gotten them to the Underworld easily enough, he had also predictably vanished on some venture of his own almost immediately after their arrival. Snow and Charming had gone to search by the water and in the forest, and Robin had seemed the most capable and likely person to send with them. Emma wanted to think they would all be fine, that splitting up would only allow them to cover that much more ground and find Killian sooner, but she couldn't help worrying for them as well as her sailor, when she couldn't see or know what they might run into. Forcing herself to re-focus,her mind whispered, 'Killian, where are you? Come back to me…'

Without her even being aware until they blurred her vision of the streets, silent tears were coursing down her face. The streets before them were so similar to the Storybrooke routes grown familiar, only darker and shrouded in eerie smoke. She would not allow it to slow her, and she pressed on blindly, unsure where to look as her eyes swept from side to side, certain that Killian must be close by. Once she saw him, Emma ached to fall on her knees at his side and beg his forgiveness, express her endless remorse for all the ways she had gotten it wrong in trying to save him, and he had paid the price. In horrific detail, she kept seeing the light fade from his blue, blue eyes, hearing his ragged plea to grant his wishes this time, his anguished cry and the wet, sucking sound as the blade slid home in his body. Her torment repeated, picturing what he might be going through in the domain of Hades. Was he still in pain? Was he being punished, taunted, tortured beyond the injuries she herself had inflicted? Even once she reached him, would she ever be able to make things right?

Emma might well have kept running aimlessly forever – not willing to give up or rest – but the fog thickened further, obscuring the twisted versions of Gold's pawn shop, Marco's woodworking studio, Maurice French's delivery van at the curb, and Granny's diner, to the point that she could barely make out any of the landmarks or see to take a step in front of her. Hesitating, breath coming out in frantic pants and eyes darting wildly, she nearly panicked, staring in one direction and then another helplessly.

It was then, when despair began to creep in and take her over, that a warm, comforting hand slipped into hers, squeezing firmly. "Mom!" Henry's ever-deepening voice called her back, cutting through her whirling thoughts and clearing her mind. "Calm down. You have to use your magic. It's powered by love. Focus on Killian, on how much you need to find him, and we'll get there…I know it."

Blinking away the tears which had barely let up their entire time in this twisted mockery of their hometown, Emma managed to give her brave, amazing son a tremulous smile. Nodding in affirmation, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and tried to focus on Henry's encouragement. She finally believed that Killian was her True Love. She planned to attempt splitting her heart to share with him; her magic should lead them to her pirate. She needed to calm down and allow it to work. It only took her other True Love buoying her up to remind her. This had to work…and it would!

Henry didn't let go of her hand, but stood right next to her offering his strength and belief, ready to venture forward at her side. Emma closed her eyes, raised her other hand slightly, and sent out tendrils of her magic, seeking, searching for Killian.

"You can do it, Mom," Henry urged, rooting her on. "I want him back too. He can't be far!"

Maybe it was Henry's faith, or maybe Regina had found a way to get her magic, which had been shorting out since they'd entered the realm of the dead, working again; whatever it was, the way ahead grew more visible as they pushed forward quietly. An even more complete and odder hush than they had been keeping fell over their small trio as through the smoke and fog the clock tower and library abruptly appeared before them. A chill of foreboding ran up Emma's spine, and she clutched Henry's hand in hers more tightly. She couldn't explain how she knew it, but this was where they needed to be. Kilian was nearby. Her own magic felt as though it were reaching out and trying to find him, as she'd hoped, or that the connection she knew was between them was asserting itself at last. It didn't matter that this sinister version of the clock tower looked like the last place she wanted to enter, if Killian Jones was in there, then that was exactly where she would go.

Nodding toward the building which towered over them, Emma only said with a grim determination, "He's in there."

Henry looked over at her, no longer having to tilt his chin up, almost as tall as his mom, and merely met her eyes with a nod before replying, "Then let's go get him," his face as set and determined as hers.

Regina's expression was grim as well, and she flexed her hand, making sure there was a fireball ready if they needed it. "In a way, it makes a twisted sort of sense," she conceded, moving to follow them without hesitation. "Maleficent's dungeon is beneath the library, ready for Hades to use."

Pushing open the door, the three cautiously stepped through the darkened entryway of the building. Where Belle was usually standing at the circulation desk to greet those who entered her library in Storybrooke with a bright, excited smile and ink-smudged fingers, here nothing greeted them but unnatural, hovering stillness, the musty, dry smell of books left unread and long forgotten, and the dank gray interior that urged them to turn back before they were lost within its depths. If Emma hadn't been certain this was the place before, she was sure now – this was where they would find Killian. The very structure itself seemed to be trying to unnerve them, as if afraid they would succeed.

"Here, Miss Swan," Regina spoke up crisply, still focused and business-like, breaking into Emma's cluttered thoughts.

Glancing up, Emma found the other woman standing at an exact replica of the elevator down to the basement which had once held the dragon-wraith of her former friend. Obviously the mayor didn't wish to waste any more time here than was strictly necessary – whether she would admit to being unsettled or not – and Emma couldn't agree more. She crossed the room with Henry to stand at his other mother's side. They looked into the elevator for a moment, then swallowed hard and pressed on.

The old lift creaked and groaned as it brought them down into the depths below the false clock tower, and it only grew darker and danker the further they went. By the time they reached the bottom, Emma couldn't see her hand in front of her face it was so deeply black and the fog so thick. If she felt it would be any safer, she would have urged Henry to stay – but she doubted it would be, and she knew he wouldn't wait behind anyway.

"Stay close, Miss Swan," Regina warned again tartly as they stepped forward on the rocky, uneven ground. Her voice was cautious even through its crisp impatience, and Emma had learned by now to read the other woman better rather than assuming that Regina didn't care or was coldly unaffected; the former queen was worried, and ached to feel she had some semblance of control, which made her take it wherever she could.

Rather than arguing, Emma merely nodded, heading forward quickly and relieved that Regina and Henry willingly kept pace, one on each side of her, bolstering her without words. As they continued, Emma felt tingling energy, prickling sparks of heat running along her veins, making trails she felt she should be able to look down and see glowing beneath her skin in the dark. Her breath went short, coming out in ragged puffs. "Killian…" she breathed out desperately, recklessly allowing the hope free rein inside her, recognizing that the only other times she had felt such heat and excitement in her blood were when he was near. They must be getting closer to him, and it was all Emma could do not to break into a run.

A chilly gust of air ghosted over her arm, and she shivered involuntarily, turning to the side for the source of the draft and noticing a fissure that opened into a nearly hidden alcove off the main part of their underground cavern. With that same rush of intuition and tingling thrill, Emma turned aside and squeezed through the gap in the solid rock wall. Henry and Regina pressed in close behind her when she hesitated, trying to squint through the darkness. Something had called to her, but she didn't see anything except a dark, empty room of stone walls and floors at first, until Regina finally burst out in exasperation, "For pity sakes, must I do everything?!" With a flourish, she conjured orbs of fire in each hand, illuminating the area before them enough to discern shadowy shapes, and then flung the lights toward torches they could now glimpse over their heads in sconces placed all around the strange dim niche off the larger cave.

Emma had just begun to snap back at Regina, when her voice stopped in her throat on a sharp gasp at the startling sight before her. At the far end of the space, near the back wall, flickering light glinted off the steel gray metal of a thick chain trailing from a crank to the side of the ceiling, then down to manacles which held pale wrist and forearm locked together and extended over the head of a person slumped on their knees. Emma's heart stuttered in fear and vicarious pain, immediately recognizing the motionless, silent, almost lifeless form before them. Only a few seconds' glimpse at the battering of bruises and scars on the pale expanse of his bared back were all she could stand. Without taking time to worry whether or not it would work, she waved her hand desperately through the air, dissolving the chain to nothingness. With what had been stretching him and holding his body unnaturally upright gone, Killian fell prone on the hard rock floor with a soft, insensate groan escaping his mouth.

Dashing wildly to his side, Emma gathered Killian's limp form in her arms, holding him close as best she could, smoothing her trembling hands through his coarse, shaggy black hair and over his chilled, clammy skin, aching to ease his pain. She wasn't expecting to feel Henry pressed up against her side worriedly and reaching out to touch her pirate's arm with gentle concern, nor for him to whisper "Killian? Can you hear us?" She could sense Regina's presence close at their backs as well, standing guard. But when she grumbled, "What happened to you, Guyliner? Mouth off to the Lord of the Dead himself?" Emma was surprised to hear the quaver of emotion behind the Mayor's retort as well, and she knew that Regina was nearly as rattled by the state of their pirate as she was herself. The fact that he had clearly been hidden away didn't help her state of mind. How long had he been held there like that? It was as though he’d been hidden where anyone who might venture into those depths would pass by him unaware and leave him to his misery.

She gathered Killian even closer to her, and was just bending her forehead to rest against his when he jerked awake unexpectedly, snapping back to consciousness with a confused panic, and though clearly weakened and in pain, he flung himself away from her with terrified force, scrabbling backward blindly.

His voice was hoarse when it rang out and echoed back against the close walls and low ceiling, cracking with fear and mistrust, raw from what Emma feared might have been days crying out in hopeless despair and agony as he languished in torment, thinking that he would never be found. Killian's harsh, broken words lashed her heart like a whip, making her as painfully desperate as he when he howled, "Back, Demon! Stop tormenting me! Take any form you wish…but…not hers! Please…no more!"

Emma tried to shush him, begged him to truly see her as she brushed a hand down his stubbled jaw, her heart feeling new pangs of guilt and regret at the sight of the ages-old scar that had always dashingly graced his cheek bleeding again as though it had been freshly carved anew into his skin. Were all of the weals, cuts, and bruises adorning his scarred chest and back old, once-healed wounds returned to livid intensity by the insidious nature of this place and the unfinished business it deemed Killian Jones to have?

Before she could utter anything else, he cried out again, his voice mere shards of its usual deep, smooth timbre. "No! Not Emma! You are not her! Leave me! Leave me!"

When he flinched from her touch yet again, it felt as though the Dark One dagger itself had been stabbed into her breast. Emma wanted to curl up beside him and weep – hopelessness, fear, concern, and love welling up uncontrollably within at the thought that she had found him, but he might be too far gone to bring back. She steeled herself to speak to him once more in soft, pleading tones as she swept her hand across his brow, "Killian, please…look at me. It is Emma. I promise, it's me. I'm here…"

Fear darted across his face for several more taut, charged moments, looking so strange on one who had always met challenges and danger head-on, an arched brow and a dark retort for any man, beast, or monster unwise enough to think he would back down. Then, after several tense, breathlessly waiting seconds, it was as though a cloud passed over his countenance and vanished again, the shade blinding him seemed to fall from his eyes and recognition dawned as he stared at her, drinking in her face, desperate to believe. "Swan?" he whispered, voice soft and awed though rough with ill use, finally daring to hope. A trembling hand reached out toward her face, and she quickly bent to lean her cheek against his palm, as needy for his touch as he was to make sure she was real. "Emma…Love…is it really you? And H-Henry? …Lad, you're here as well?"

"Of course," Henry assured, grinning rakishly in a way Emma knew he must have picked up from Killian. Though his eyes were glassy, Henry answered this man he'd come to look up to with assurance, "Think I'd risk being deprived of a dashing rescue, Captain?"

Her love grinned back at her son crookedly, but said no more, still somewhat overcome by Henry's devotion.

Regina cleared her throat from where she stood just behind them, keeping a wary eye on the entrance. It brought a much-needed measure of levity to the trio on the floor when she grumbled, "No need to acknowledge my presence, Pirate. I simply followed them down here for my health. Brimstone and sulfur do wonders for the skin, you know."

Killian inclined his head slightly in a semblance of the mocking bow he often gave her when they squabbled. "Why, of course, your Majesty," he replied with a knowing wink, "but it is lovely to see you all the same."

The queen huffed, but gave him the tiniest quirk of her red lips in a begrudging smile.

Emma did not miss the way her love winced at even the smallest of offhand movements, but she couldn't look him over properly or try to heal any of his wounds now. They needed to get him out of his prison, first and foremost. She thought about trying to transport them all from the dungeon to the lake shore instantly with her magic, but discarded the idea almost as quickly as it came to her, knowing her powers had been behaving too unpredictably in the depths of the Underworld to be sure of where they might end up. The same concern kept her from asking Regina to move them, or – she assumed – from the queen's offering. She began to attempt standing again, ready to pull Killian up with her. "Come on, let's – "

Just as Killian spoke once more, his mind working through the situation quickly as he became more aware, and already worried for their safety, "Wh-what are all of you doing here? You can't be caught here. I d-don't want you to be trapped as well."

"Too bad," Emma shook her head, finally regaining her feet and, with Henry's help, easing him to stand as well between them. Killian was wobbly and leaning on her more than she would have liked, but then, after being held in one position for so long, she knew his limbs must be working their way back to life, beyond the injuries which must also be draining his strength. "We're not leaving without you. You've already been the hero…" here she had to swallow hard, her eyes tearing up as she remembered him dying in her arms. "Now, let me be the Savior and bring you home where you really belong."

Those devastating blue eyes bore into hers with such intensity, burning with the ardor of his next words. "Emma…Love…I knew the sacrifice I was making. This is where I belong now…what I deserve…and if the rest of you are safe…. Please, there must be a terrible price for this, and … and I won't have you paying it."

Despite his weakened state and the fervent emotion trembling within the words, his resolve was clear. Emma knew she could not fail to heed him again – not this time – but she also needed him to see that she would not be happy, would not be safe, when he suffered here alone for both their mistakes, his noble sacrifice cheapened by Gold's treachery. It wasn't right; it wasn't enough for her. She didn't have a home without him. Yet, she had to allow him this choice; she couldn't take that right away a second time. Drawing in a deep breath, she assured him, "We have a way to bring you back, one that will work. The rest of us will be fine." She paused, met his eyes hopefully, took a deep breath, and asked, "Killian, don't worry about me or anyone else; just answer me honestly: Do you want to come back with us?"

He wet his lips, obviously struggling with emotion and desire versus his sense of duty and lingering guilt. Holding her gaze, his next words came out so raw and vulnerable that they scraped across her heart, tearing loose pieces that she had already given to him. "Aye, Swan, I would wish that more than anything. You must know that. But…I do not wish anyone else to be punished or imprisoned here in my stead…if there is even a chance that could happen…"

"No, Killian," she interrupted, shaking her head gently as she brushed an unruly shock of black hair off his forehead lovingly. "You don't understand. We won't leave anyone behind. This will work." She bit her lower lip, trying to peer right into his soul, the way he had so often done with her. "Trust me?" she asked then, everything they had risked and all her future happiness riding on his answer.

"Aye, Love, I do," he swore, bringing the hand he clutched tightly in his up to clumsily brush his lips over her knuckles, "and I always will."

"Good," she said simply, a small smile gracing her mouth, and then his face as well, as they both remembered how that very response from her had sustained and given him hope through a full year of obstacles and doubts until they had been reunited once before.

Turning to Regina, Emma knew she couldn't hesitate, knew Killian would start protesting again if he figured out what she planned to do – no matter how sure she was that it would work. Shooting Henry a quick, reassuring smile, she squared her shoulders and gave the other woman a curt nod, "Let's do this," she affirmed.

Regina didn't waste a second, gripping Emma's upper arm to keep her steady and plunging a hand into her chest. Emma couldn't stop a gasp at the jarring invasion and strange sense of disconnect she felt when the formerly evil queen withdrew her hand, Emma's slightly battered, partly scabbed in gray, but mostly glowing, red heart within her grasp.

"No!" Killian cried out aghast, only knowing that any heart he had seen taken from a chest had been squeezed in nightmarish torment. "What are you doing!?" he lurched forward, fruitlessly aiming to stop her, but Henry clung to his arm determinedly from where he stood on the pirate's other side helping to keep him upright.

"Killian," Henry pleaded, trying to offer comfort even though his voice quavered too. "It's okay. She's not going to crush it. Emma wanted her to do this…Look!" Henry knew there was still a risk; splitting a heart had worked for his gramps and grandma, and he knew his mom and Killian loved each other deeply, but they didn't have any guarantee.

Emma slumped forward, unaware, and though she wasn't heavy, with his own injuries and weakness, it nearly brought Killian down too. Awkwardly, he took what strength he had left to untangle their fingers and wrap his arm around her, drawing Emma to his side though it pained the open gashes on his torso, and letting her head come to rest on his shoulder.

When he turned back to Regina, her gaze was intent on the heart in her hand, as concerned as he had ever seen the proud royal. Determinedly, she worked at the organ until, to all of their intense relief, it split down the middle and she reached forward to press half of it into each of their chests.

"Ready, Captain?" she asked, voice taut and nervous, though he knew she would never say so.

He gave her a nod, meeting her eyes fiercely before letting his gaze return to Emma's soft, lax, but still lovely, face. In the next instant, he drew a fuller, more rejuvenating breath than he had taken since falling on the shores of the lake in Storybrooke. There was still the odd sensation of a hand in his chest, but a moment more and that was gone too as Regina pulled back, leaving a half of his love's heart within his body.

Emma surfaced to consciousness with a similar heaving breath, blinking as her light once more suffused her cheeks, and her eyes regained their lively sparkle. "Are we okay?" she asked blearily, and then more fervently, "Did it work?!"

"It would seem so," Regina said drily, arching a perfectly sculpted brow as if to say, 'You're alive and speaking to me, aren't you?', but she spared a cautious, genuine smile for the savior and Emma could sense the relief behind the harsh veneer. "Now," Regina continued, "let's not wait around to see what else can go wrong. It's time we were home." With a wave of her hand, clearly having deemed the risk worth it, and a swirl of purple smoke, they were all standing with a jolt on the shore of Hades' realm, right next to the boat which had brought them from Storybrooke.

Looking around in surprise as he reoriented himself, Killian already felt some of his lost strength and vigor returning to him, and he marveled at the power and love for him that must have been held within Emma's heart to pull this off so quickly and so well. Henry placed a hand on his hook's brace, drawing his attention with a grin while pointing out fast-approaching figures in the near distance.

Squinting, Killian could see Dave, Mary Margaret, and Robin coming toward them at a run, and was touched and humbled once more to think that all of these people would venture to the very depths of Hell for the likes of him. Once the rest of their rescue party had reached them at the water's edge – minus Gold, whom no one seemed inclined to worry about – Robin greeted him with an exuberant cry of welcome, while Dave clapped him on the shoulder firmly, and Mary Margaret – to Killian's complete and utter astonishment – flung her arms around him in a joyful, maternal hug.

"It's wonderful to see you too, Milady," Killian managed, almost embarrassed at such a greeting from a woman who at best had always seemed unsure about him as a suitor for her daughter.

The dark-haired royal pulled back with a watery smile, but not before pausing to whisper in his ear, "We needed to get you back, Killian. I don't think I could have stood to watch Emma in that state any longer. She was … broken …without you."

The pirate dipped his head, hiding a swell of emotion at her words, and even when he raised his face once more, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears he sniffed back conspicuously.

"Well," Robin called out, breaking into the thoughts of all their gathered group, bow over his shoulder and fingers once again laced with Regina's, "shall we go?"

"Not so fast, Archer," a silky voice rang out, stopping all of them in their tracks, just as they had been ready to step into the boat pointed home. "I do believe you're planning to steal something – or should I say someone? – who belongs to me."

The unassuming gentleman in a sleek, tailored suit who strutted toward them over the dead, brown grass before the lake, didn't look like much of a threat, but none of them were taken in by his calm, almost jovial manner, nor his pleased, oily smile. "Don't listen to him," Regina ordered tersely, urging Henry, Robin. Snow, and David into the boat ahead of her as planned. "He can't stop us from leaving. We aren't dead, and therefore we aren't part of his domain."

Hades, as Emma realized the man must be, moved ever closer and shook his head like a disappointed parent would at a child who refused to obey. "Ah," he answered smoothly, "but I fear one of you is indeed under my dominion. Breathed his last on these very shores, in fact."

Emma stepped just slightly in front of Killian, wavering slightly as she still recovered from aftereffects of losing part of a vital organ. Yet, she looked as fierce and defiant as she ever had; red jacket standing out against her stark, dull surroundings and a glow emanating from her as she stared down the ruler of the Underworld himself. "You can't have him," she growled through gritted teeth.

Even as Killian feared for her safety, knowing all too well what this seeming "gentleman" and his demons could do, he couldn't deny that his Swan was glorious – a sight to behold.

Emma motioned behind her for Regina to get in the boat as well and take Killian with her. The regal balked, a quick, "Emma, are you sure about…" escaping, but she was cut off with a jerky nod and set jaw, and she did as the Savior asked, pulling Killian forcibly after her.

"Admirable determination, my dear," Hades taunted, "but you might as well admit defeat. I am well acquainted with this pirate, all that brave stoicism mixed with his massive self-loathing for his past wrongs makes a nice break for me from eons of monotonous sniveling, pleading beggars for mercy. Fresh entertainment playing with someone who can endure so much pain, it's quite addictive, you see. Not to mention… I've been alerted to your little scheme to steal my new plaything. It won't work. Even if I were inclined to release one of my subjects, it isn't possible. He died, he is one of mine now, and there is not a thing you can do about it."

A second shadowy figure emerged from the surrounding mist and darkness, and as the person came to stand just at Hades' elbow, Emma recognized Gold, an insidious smile on his smug, self-satisfied face. "Miss me, Dearies?" he cackled ominously. Then his gleaming gaze narrowed as it fell on Emma. "I did warn you not to test me, Miss Swan," he stated with chilling finality, a cunning glint casting frightening light in his eyes. "Thanks to my early warning, our temporary host has promised me that he will make sure our near-escapee finds his stay even more unpleasant from now on, and has given me his word to keep you as well, far away from my Belle, who will have no idea what I've done, and right here with him to magnify the punishment for you both. A simple memory wipe on the rest of you meddlesome fools who insist on playing heroes, and I shall finally have my happy ending."

Emma heard the scuffling of Killian trying to fight his way out of Regina's and Robin's grasps to get back to her. "You'll do no such thing, Crocodile!" he was railing, as she could hear Snow gasp in shock and horror, and Henry and her father's yells of anger and dismay. All of that was drowned out though by the roaring in her ears and the intense desire she had to throttle the cowardly pawnbroker with her bare hands. Of course he would go and try to get in good with the Devil himself to double cross them! As if making Killian's sacrifice to destroy the darkness void for his own gain hadn't been terrible enough! The rage that overcame her with knowing that these two monstrous fiends could be so blasé about the torment they wanted to put Killian through, at seeing for herself all they had already done to the man she loved, was vibrating through her being and she sensed her magic about to explode uncontrollably, blindly. Still, she narrowed her eyes, determined not to give anything away to the insidious crocodile. She understood now why Killian's nickname for his foe had always been so apt – reptilian, grasping, clawing, and willing to do anything to save his own leathery hide and secure his own self-interests, despite who else might be hurt along the way. She quickly turned her focus back to Hades though. No matter how badly she wanted to strike Gold down, this fallen deity was the one with the real power in the Underworld.

"You know," Hades taunted, a mocking pout of fake sympathy on his face, "it really is quite tragic, Savior. You seem to be able to save everyone but the ones you care for most. Love can do much, but even where there is love…dead is still dead."

Emma was backed right up to the edge of the water, her heels actually touching the side of their little boat as it rocked on the dark, uneasy tide. Hades stood practically nose to nose with her, but she wouldn't give in. Instead, she nodded toward Gold. "We'll see about that," she hissed, forcing bravado she only partially felt, "but you might want to question whether your new partner has told you everything."

With that, she stepped backwards into the boat, and Charon began to row away, no other option, his mindless task ingrained in his being until the end of time.

Hades raised a hand, and some red bolt of radiating power shot toward them, but it hit an invisible barrier none of them could see, ricocheted off the wooden boat's side, and went barreling back, knocking the Devil and the Dark One flat on their backs on the shore. Emma felt a pang in her chest like a plucked guitar string vibrating, and everything in her vision went hazy. She staggered, seeing less and less as she heard them all talking to her, around her, anxiously. She had just enough sight and awareness left to reassure herself that they were still moving toward home, and then it all faded away as she fell back into Killian's – and her family's – arms.

~~~~CS~~~~~CS~~~~CS~~~~CS~~~

The following afternoon…

Emma Swan blinks her eyes against the gentle sunshine filtering in warm, yellow stripes through the plain white curtains she hung in the Captain's quarters of Killian's ship. Yawning and stretching languidly, she can't help the grin which spreads slowly and happily across her face upon realizing just where she is and in whose arms she has been resting. They made it home again – all of them – safe and sound, and she is snuggled up with her pirate in his bunk. Sitting up just a bit to gaze down at him affectionately, honestly enjoying the view, and able to see now that they are in the land of the living he already has more color and his scars have once again begun to fade, Emma trails her hand along his chest, playfully running her fingers through the coarse hair covering his muscled torso, unable to stop staring at the man she literally went to Hell and back to find. The half a heart they now share swells with love until it seems to overflow, and Emma wriggles back into Killian's warm embrace, while he continues to sleep – she hopes peacefully. Even deep in slumber, Killian gathers her closer to his side tenderly with the arm draped over her hip and mumbles something she can't quite make out against the warm skin of her neck at the collar of her sweater.

His brow furrows, and she aches to soothe him, to assure him that they are together again and all will be well. She knows that things won't stay peaceful in their little town for long, nor can she keep him from the nightmares and remembrances of the ordeal he has been through. Still, she places a kiss to his brow and murmurs, "Shh…rest, Killian," as she brushes back the dark fringe of his hair. 

The last day and night are an exhausted, emotional blur before Emma's eyes as she lies back down and tries to return to rest with her pirate. She remembers the traumatic details of finding Killian in that stone dungeon and his ancient scars and emotional pains brought to fresh life upon his skin, how sapped and hopeless he had been – to the point that he had seemed unable to acknowledge they had come after him. She remembers Regina splitting her heart, and all of them standing of the shores of the lake as Hades tried to stop them from returning to the world of the living with her sailor. Beyond that though… the boat ride back, how she had ended up here with Killian, cozily wrapped in his embrace... it is all a misty jumble in her mind. She can bring back snatches of her parents', Henry's, and even Regina's and Robin's voices, discussing what to do once they reached town, how they had all progressed while they were split up in the Underworld, and if she were truly okay, but none of it comes into clear focus for her. She has the vague, lingering suspicion that Killian must have carried her to his ship, rather than the house she'd taken over as the Dark One, or her parents' loft, over any other ideas or suggestions, and that the others must have decided that he knew best and left the two of them alone to heal together.

With a sigh, she forces her eyes to the gash made by Excalibur still blatantly visible on his neck, while Killian remains unaware. Though it is no longer ragged and draining his lifeblood before her very eyes, Emma knows that this wound will never completely fade. In some way, this particular scar will always be upon his skin, reminding her of when it all went wrong, how horribly she failed him. Her fingers tremble as she traces the abraded skin, and she blinks back her tears quickly. Not, however, before a couple of them escape and pool on the warm skin in the hollow of his collarbone.

Rousing, Killian's eyes blink open to find her awake and studying him sadly, her eyes welling with tears and her hands clutching his shoulders as though afraid he will be taken from her again. "What is it, Love?" he murmurs, smoothing his hand through her hair and snugging his hookless bare wrist against the thick wool sweater at her back, pulling her impossibly closer still. "What's happened?"

She shakes her head, a breath wet with choked back sobs huffing out of her chest. "Nothing, Killian, I just…" she traces her fingers lightly over the shell of his ear, grinning at how the top curve comes almost to a bit of a point.  In spite of her jumbled feelings and the fact that she is still struggling to get her words out, she cannot help but marvel at each tiny wonder that make up her True Love. "You'll always have those two new scars…and it's….it's my fault…"

"Oh, Emma…" Killian breathes in soft, stunned understanding, his eyes infinitely kind and unfailingly full of love. "You’ve more than made it right. When I blamed you, I was nothing but the worst version of myself. Do not carry those words, nor that guilt, any longer, Swan." He sighs, sensing that she is still upset and punishing herself, and briefly rests his chin atop the soft golden hair at the crown of her head. Gathering a bit more nerve, he adds gruffly, "That you were so desperate to keep me with you…" he pauses to wet his lips, not wanting his voice to waiver or to make her doubt, "While I detested losing control of myself… I also never thought to be so loved."

Emma's tears do begin to escape her at that, though she can't utter any sort of response. Leaning up to rest her forehead against his, wanting only to have him see in her eyes that he is loved now, more than either of them would have once felt possible, more than either of them could have ever known.

"You entered into the very depths of Hell to fetch me back to your side, Emma. You walked amidst my demons and my nightmares of loved ones I have lost and the horrible things I have done, and you pulled me out into the light once again. You are quite literally my heart now, and I never wish to be parted from you."

"If I have my way, you never will be," Emma vows fervently against his lips in response, just before fusing their mouths in a tender kiss that begins to ease the pain that wounds and separation had wrought. Both are quiet then, at peace wrapped in each other's arms. Swearing to never be torn apart again; they are happy, and they are home.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @cosette141 @sotangledupinit @xsajx @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @stahlop @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @winterbaby89 @resident-of-storybrooke @wefoundloveunderthelight @zaharadessert @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @justanother-unluckysoul @hollyethecurious @killian-whump @thislassishooked @cocohook38​ @mie779​ 

[retrogamingtrickster]

Oh OK got any hcs about if torch man was raised by the megaman 2 robot masters?

Hmmm—this might be a little messy since I never got an ask like this before, but I like a challenge!!!! *rubs hands* alright here we go!! :P

Also keep in mind that this post will probably not be as formal grammatically (which I’ve realized as I’ve been writing this), so sorry in advance if the way some of these headcanons are sound cringy ._.

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

-Okay so. Torch man when he was younger, I feel like this would be WAY before he made up torch jutsu. So obviously I imagine young Torch being VERRRY hyperactive XDD (I thought about this—and I just now realized the only way that the group from MM11 or MM2 could co exist is them being from—..different generations (obviously, they’re from different games down the line—). So to me that’s how young Torch and the MM2 rms could be in the same timeline.

-Also how the group would find him AFTER the main events of MM2 (getting kidnapped, reprogrammed, then returned to Light, etc.) with Doctor Light making a discovery that an unknown bot was discovered right after Wily started wrecking havoc; not being aware it was young Torch man until uhh..he came back and found his lab in flames ^^;

-So each RM in this lineup would take turns watching over him once they got back to normal, trying to raise the bot in their own ways; all the while having to keep him in secret so Wily wouldn’t find him.

-I feel like Flash man would want to distance himself from Torch man just because he was a hyperactive bot, yet over time he’d eventually grow to care for him quite a lot!! (Even though he got made fun of for being bald ^^;)

-The first time Air man had to watch over Torch..Air man forgot about him as he tried taking him to the park. He lost him after getting caught up in his own reflection at the pond. After setting the surrounding trees ablaze, Air man wasn’t allowed to watch over him by himself since ^^;

-To me each group of robots that are based on an element would already KIND of know each other? That would be the case with Torch and Heat man. Many would joke that their personalities have been swapped?? (With Heat being laid back, and vice versa—) but the two would already have somewhat of a close bond, thus the two being around each other a LOT more than the others!!

-Bubble man…hoo boy was Heat man especially scared of Torch going near him— (not because of how he acts but rather bubble man’s power being Heat’s weakness).

-Dash man would probably encourage Torches out of control behavior. He’s not tasked with watching over him much either due to his forgetfulness (this is the guy that would be trying to discipline him one minute and then immediately proceeds to do the EXACT thing he told Torch not to do the next—)

-The group was honestly scared of Torch being around Metal man, solely from what they hear about him at his job. So he wasn’t allowed to watch over him much either—

-Crash man is actually one of the more reliable ones, having to do research about caring for children prior to caring for him. It wasn’t after Torch was a little older that he’d start noticing Crashes mood swings.

-Wood man would most likely be the one to teach the idea of Torch Jutsu to him—cuz..well, he’d keep burning down the forest every time it was his turn to watch over him. I think Wood man would have a space where he would take time to collect his thoughts..

-And over the years he’s been able to calm his flaming outbursts (they happen less frequently), even earning himself a job in fire safety thanks to Wood Man! (The camp counselors were a bit iffy on the idea at first BECAUSE of being a fire themed bot—but we’re actually surprised by his discipline!!)

-So other than the minor setbacks the group had faced early on with him, they’ve done a good job at raising Torch man!

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

My apologies again if this was a little short (or unusually formatted), but I hope you enjoy these headcanons!! The 11 RMs are my personal favorite to write about, so thank you for the ask!! ^^

(Also I’m trying to keep the Megaman train alive so if anyone else wants to send me requests for headcanons, then don’t hesitate to ask!! ^^)

[chaoticgoodlawyerwrites]

Preview of Ch 11 of HSY

Hey folks! Long preview today because this chapter is going to be LONG and I have a ways to go, still. It's the last main one for the story, with Chapter 12 really an epilogue. There are so far two extras for this story, one being 2moshang and the other being a smutty 2bingqiu scene. In any case, here's a sneak peak and I hope you enjoy!

---

Surprisingly, the first words out of his friend’s mouth were directed at Bingdi. “Welcome back, Your Royal Highness.”

If it surprised Bingdi, he didn’t show it. “Thank you, Shang-shishu. “Shizun said you were in need of aid…?”

Both Mobei-Juns tensed at that and Shang Qinghua reached out to pat both of their hands automatically while loosing a nervous laugh. “Not as such. The crisis has passed and we’ve managed to work out a few things already. I was kind of panicked when I left my first messages for Shen-shixiong, but that was almost a full day ago. A lot can happen in a day.”

Shen Qingqiu thought back over his last 24 hours and heartily agreed. “Speaking of which.” Shen Qingqiu looked directly at the Mobei-Jun of this world and bowed as much as he could from a setting position. Luo Bingge hissed at this show of deference, but he ignored him. “Qinghua, Mobei-Jun of this world, this master offers his apologies for not attending his Second Husband’s actions more closely. You, at the very least, should have been warned of an impending visitor, and this master is sorry for your suffering over his lapse. It shall not happen again.”

“Qingqiu!” Luo Bingge gasped. 

“Bingge,” he hissed. “You didn’t tell me because you knew it would upset me.”

“It was a condition of securing Mobei-Jun’s help in reaching you safely."

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t buying it. He looked at the Original Mobei-Jun and said, “Greetings, Mobei-Jun. We missed you at court today.”

Finally acknowledged, the man’s eyes found Shen Qingqiu’s as he bowed low in his seat. “This Mobei greets Empress Shen.”

“Rise. Tell me,” he said, channeling his prissiest, bitchiest voice. “How were you aware that my friend, Shang Qinghua, existed as himself in this world?”

“This Mobei does not understand the question, Empress.” There was no sign of nervousness on his face or in his voice, but he would be feeling it if he was smart.

“You killed your world’s Shang Qinghua after a betrayal,” Shen Qingqiu said. “How did you know my friend would be different enough to seek for a different purpose?”

The Original Mobei-Jun hesitated for a moment before he said, “Junshang allowed this one to accompany him on one of his invisible visits to Empress Shen’s side while he knew Qinghua would be with him. It was obvious by how he acted that he and the betrayer were not the same person.”

“And before that?”

“Empress?”

“I’m not stupid, Mobei,” Shen Qingqiu said, his demeanor going as cold and cutting as his kingdom. “My husband just said that you meeting Qinghua was a condition of your aid in the first place.”

“Empress Shen, Junshang initially offered to take this Mobei to a man who could be his queen. If this Mobei recalls correctly, he did not share this identity until the date previously mentioned, at which point this Mobei confirmed that Qinghua was an acceptable Consort.”

“I see.” Shen Qingqiu said, cutting his eyes over to a Luo Bingge who had gone very, very still. Yeah, you bet your ass you’re in trouble. “If I may, what made you think my friend would be open to your advances? He has been wearing the Pendant of the Bride of the North for years, before my first marriage, even. You, of anyone, would know that he was taken.”

The Original Mobei-Jun frowned a little but said after a moment, “He did not speak like the Shang Qinghua I knew once. He wore the Pendant this Lord thought would never leave his treasury casually, with the ease of familiarity. And, at the time of our visit, he was complaining… at length at certain unsatisfied needs. This Mobei thought it would be a simple task to present himself as a demon who would provide everything to him.”

Well, shit. Shang Qinghua went bright red and quickly hid his face in his hands while his mate went paler than usual and stiff as a board. He didn’t know if he could say anything to make that better, so he didn’t try to.

“Thank you for your directness,” Shen Qingqiu said normally. “In light of the unorthodox situation before us, as your Empress I make the following judgment: unless in direct, proportional self-defense or defense of Shang Qinghua or his children, you are forbidden from physically or energetically harming the Mobei-Jun of this world without his consent. By this, I mean actual harm, not sparing or that kind of thing. Beyond that, your relationship is your own.”

“Yes, Empress Shen,” he said, bowing again. 

He looked back at Shang Qinghua, who still hadn’t recovered from being outed as horny on main. “You said you all had the rest handled?”

“Yeah. Thanks, bro.” Shang Qinghua bobbed in what passed as a bow between them but probably just looked like nonsense to the others. Then he froze and looked up. “Wait. What was that about children?”

Both Mobei-Juns turned to stare directly at Shang Qinghua. “Just thinking ahead, Airplane.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Out of the two of us, the only one who’s mentioned wanting babies is you! Though I would want our kids to grow up together… not the point! Why my kids? They’re the same person; all my kids are their kids… WAIT!”

Shang Qinghua stood on his knees suddenly, embarrassment forgotten and eyes wide. 

“Airplane–”

“Don’t Airplane me, you fertile Myrtle!!” Shang Qinghua shouted in English. “You’re pregnant already!!”

…was it really that obvious?

“...”

“Holy fuck, congratula– wait. Oh, oh this got complicated. Do they know?”

Shen Qingqiu sighed and rubbed at his temple. “They know and had a fight over it because the youngest thought the elder had forced it on me. I did have a panic attack when I found out, so he had his reasons. But they figured their shit out and I will accept your congratulations and secrecy.”

“Of course! Whatever you need!” Shang Qinghua stood and scurried over to Shen Qingqiu’s side and basically glomped him. He did a quick switch back to English to say, “I’m happy you’re okay.”

“Thanks, bro,” he said, awkwardly hugging him back  while being very aware that four very powerful demons were staring at them. He cleared his throat and said, “My lords Mobei, your discretion in this matter is greatly appreciated. The imperial family already is aware and are making happy preparations.”

Both of their expressions went to blatant shock (mild widening of their eyes) before they bowed to him. 

“Sect Leader Shen.”

“Empress Shen.”

Shang Qinghua then pulled away abruptly and said, “Wait, how does co-parenting across dimensions work? Asking for a friend.”

[quietrebelsofgenesis]

I want to apologize in advance for this long post regarding my new oil pastel painting, which I’m calling Inner Child/Naive Optimism. Then again, if you know me, you know I have a habit of making long posts. But if you’ll bear with me, I want to explain why this may be my most important artwork yet. Yeah, yeah, I know. Spoken like a true pretentious artist.

I was born in 1988. Although I love 1980s pop culture, I don’t remember anything about the ‘80s. But what I DO remember, and miss terribly, is growing up in the 1990s. Obviously, the earlier the decade, the harder it is to remember things that happened. But if there’s one thing that’s definitely lingered in my memory, it’s the music.

Yes, there are many songs (including songs from the ‘90s) that I didn’t really come to appreciate till later in life. But there are many that when I heard them immediately made an impression that lasts to this day. Neither this post, nor this painting, have anything to do with any specific song.

But when I compare the output of music/culture from the 90s to music that came out after, I remember it reflected an overwhelming sense of hope for the future. Yes, there was grunge, and darker, heavier styles of music. But that wasn’t what I was listening to at the time. So when I daydreamed of the future, especially when listening to certain songs, I felt hopeful.

Then there’s the Y2K aesthetic of the late ‘90s and early 2000s. The internet was growing in popularity. I didn’t start using the internet till my dad purchased a computer in 1999. I remembered how exciting it was to search the net for anything you wanted. Unfortunately, because internet was dial-up, you couldn’t use the home phone at the same time you were using the internet.

Anyway, technology was rapidly (although not as rapidly as recent years) changing society, or was on the verge of it. One of the things that’s lingered in my mind over the years is the color schemes of the Y2K aesthetic….especially the blues, silvers, grays…..lots of metallics and translucent materials. Does anyone remember the colorful Macintosh computers that came out? I wanted one so badly. Never got one.

I’m of course aware that there was much inequality and injustice back then as there always has been. But at the time, I was a kid daydreaming of the future. What would middle school and high school be like? What clubs would I join? (A few.) What sports would I play? (None.) What college would I go to? What would I major in? What amazing career would I have? Where would I live? Would I get to travel around the country? Around the world? The possibilities seemed endless. Better days lay ahead. Or so I thought.

I turned 13 in 2001. I’m one of those people that views history through two periods: pre-9/11 and post-9/11. I remember being in school when the attacks happened. But before that happened, my mother lost her job and had an intense breakdown. That summer was…..not great. That’s when her mental illness took hold. As time passed and other terrible things happened, I realized that that summer was the beginning of a gradual decline. I struggled, but I hadn’t given up hope. I won’t go into the details of life after high school right now, but needless to say, things got worse. And my hope for the future rapidly diminished.

At 36 years old, a time when I used to think I would have things figured out and have a great life, I have never been more clueless. Nor so deprived of hope. But I guess I’m stubborn. Because although my childhood is long gone and will never come back, I refuse to let my inner child die. She’s been heartbroken, devastated, betrayed by the world….or rather, by the society that runs the world. By people who she is, or was, close to. Reality didn’t just slap her in the face. Reality beat her within an inch of her life. And yet, somehow, she is still here. Even at the times when her adult self doesn’t want to be here, she is present.

So I took my Sennelier and Caran D’Ache oil pastels and made a neurographic painting featuring the color scheme that was part of my childhood. I want my childhood back, but I know I’ll never get it. What I’m hoping will be more attainable is getting back my hope for the future. But even that seems damn near impossible. Learning about the injustices of the world, as well as people’s willingness to sweep them under the rug and pretend those things have nothing to do with them, has greatly impacted my perception of the world. And not in a great way.

But as clueless and depressed as I am, I can’t give up just yet. There has to be something better. There has to be a way to make at least one of my inner child’s dreams come true. She/I didn’t go through all this shit over the years for nothing! Perhaps that’s naive optimism. But I’m not giving it up for anybody.

[iliveforthestars]

[ Pilot - Reversed ]

Nails dug into Sloane’s palms as she faced the people that were talking to her. The last time she was with them, she wanted to slap both of them and tell them to fuck off but she was only sixteen at the time and she had Kelsey with her. She hadn’t known why her uncle tolerated them. They weren’t nice people at all.

“You know, Sloane, we were really worried for a while there that whoever targeted your family would come back once they realized you and little Kelsey had survived,” this man’s voice was positively grating on her nerves.

“Well thank the gods they didn’t,” she managed to say through pursed lips. This man was unbelievable. Did he not realize what he was saying or was just being cruel on purpose? Sloane would go with the latter.

“Yes, you and Kelsey and Roman have been doing so well, we’re so glad,” the wife kicked in and her tone was so fake that even the nicest person on the planet wouldn’t believe her fake sincerity or that smile painted on her lips.

“Thank you so much for that, truly, we appreciate it. If you’ll excuse me, I have work-”

“I mean, we always thought it had been deals under the table gone wrong. It isn’t uncommon in politics to advance one’s career to do that. That isn’t to say that Viktor was dirty or corrupt, of course,” the man continued and this is how she knew that he knew what he was doing. “Just how the family was targeted dear, and still all these years and the killer hasn’t been found,” the wife continued their attack on Sloane, who was trying to keep it together.

She couldn’t and wouldn’t make a scene. This is exactly what these two were after, she was aware. Her family still had great pull in the political world. That much was evident by how people still came to her uncle for advice, still sought him out for counsel and listened to him. It wasn’t as if it was secret that Sloane Daniels had a temper with an extremely small fuse.

She wanted to say something, anything but her mouth was closed shut. Her father had been an amazing person, not just a great husband and father but an outstanding human being who cared for others. Her father had been a good man. Even better politician. He had helped so many people who needed it.

“Mr. and Mrs. Miller, how wonderful you are here tonight,” Eric’s voice pulls Sloane out of her thoughts and she watches him give the Millers a brilliant and charming smile but his eyes are cold. “However, it is best if you two never speak ill about Viktor Daniels and his family ever again. You will apologize to his daughter, Sloane,” then he leaned in closer and whispered something into their ears she could not hear.

When they turned to Sloane, they loudly apologize for talking about her father and swore to never do it again before announcing that they were having trouble in bed, among other embarrassing things they had done. The papers would have a field day the next day, she was sure.

“Eric!”

The blond vampire could only smirk at her as Sloane took his hand and led him out of the place as people listened to the Millers confessing. She really hoped they wouldn’t remember that Eric glamoured them or anything. Not that he couldn’t handle himself, she jut didn’t want to cause trouble for him.

Eric looked over at Sloane once they were out of the place, she looked less tense, which made glamouring those two idiots worth it but his gaze fell to their hands. The sight of that made the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile.

“Sloane-”

“I had to put up with that ever since that night, you know? People bad-mouthing my parents, especially my dad. Calling him a dirty politician, a Russian rat who probably spied on the country and got what he deserved. I heard it all, every single thing. My uncle tried to shield me but the kids of other politicians would repeat to me at school. It’s why I used to bloody my fists. I know they’re just words and that they weren’t true but it still hurt,” she confessed softly.

Before she could say anything else, Eric wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against him. He hated it when anyone did anything to make her upset. Though he wanted to put those two idiots who were clearly making her uncomfortable through the wall, he chose the next best thing that would leave a far more permanent mark.

“You’re something else, Eric Northman, but thank you. I truly appreciate it.”

“Anytime, min kärlek.”

[thenopaes]

screw it!!! posting the headcanons because im a crybaby for these two and you should be too!!!!

ive never formally introduced him yet but these are between jean (aka benjamin’s bff) and his long-time lover, amélie

aw childhood sweethearts how cute

sometimes benjamin is third-wheeling. other times amélie is the one third-wheeling him and jean and she’s totally cool with it because my god can these two act any more gay

jean keeps a photo of amélie in his front pocket whenever he goes out on missions

also puts said-photograph on the side of the rear gunner seat so that she’s the last thing he sees if he gets k-worded

amélie sings at this boujee jazz nightclub in zephis & dedicates most of her songs to him

jean brings amélie a bouquet every time he watches her shows and now she has like hundreds of flowers to care for. but they remind her of jean so you can bet she waters those babies whenever he’s gone

unrelated but search up the things we did last summer or ev’ry day i love you just a little bit more by jo stafford and imagine that’s amélie singing for him (yes i headcanoned her voice to sound like jo moving on)

totally wipe the floor with their swing dancing like are you kidding me

benjamin knows all the drama, all the tea. bc neither of these fools know how to keep their mouths shut and end up spilling everything to him for advice (even tho this dude has not been in a relationship in years?? what)

benjamin eats it all up tho but never tells the other that he knows what he knows. so now he’s like their designated therapist and also one of the reasons why their relationship is so rock-solid

amélie dreading / never reading the newspaper for the chance that jean’s name or squad pops up in there wrongly 

light each others’ cigarettes without even looking at or asking the other

bickers & banters without crossing the line

this man is so faithful im hhghfshgjsd like a bunch of pretty girls will hit him up at the bar or try to flirt and he’ll just sit there like :| so anyways ive been thinking of how to surprise my girl for her bday and you’re obviously a girl so what do you think about—

girls also start avoiding him at the bar bc talking abt amélie when he’s drunk = crying

crying = benjamin letting jean sob on his shoulder while patting his back & telling him things like “you idiot just bc it’s been three months doesn’t mean she’s not in love with you anym— are you vomiting??!”

sometimes amélie will wait a little by the nightclub’s telephone for the slightest chance jean might call her from the other side of the world

jean tries to write her letters as often as he can but he’s never able to send it, so now he has an old coffee tin filled with a bunch of unsent letters dating back years ago

bittersweet, relieved reunions marked by a warm embrace; tearful goodbyes praying it will never be their last kiss

legitimately crying over headcanons i made between two characters who barely interact is sooooo much better than actually writing imo

[queenshelby]

Dark Desires (Part One)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Solomon!Reader

Warning: Smut, Arranged Marriage, Religious Themes, Loss of Virginity 

Notes: I hope no one gets offended by this! If so, I apologize in advance.

You stood in front of the alter at the synagogue and looked at the stranger in front of you with some confusion. He was the man who you were forced to marry and he was older than you had expected.

He also wasn’t Jewish which, to you seemed, strange considering your family’s believes and all you knew about him was that he was in business with your uncle, Alfie Salmons.

Your uncle had no children himself and, therefore, it was you who had to bear the burden of marrying this stranger. You were the closest unmarried relative he had and, in your small community, it was all about family and connections.

You knew that your marriage to this man was for this very purpose only and your uncle had told you many times how, sometimes, one would have to make a personal sacrifice in order to succeed in business.

This sacrifice was going to be your hand in marriage and, when you stood there and listened to the rabbi, you learned that your future husband’s name was Thomas Shelby.

Thomas Shelby’s reputation preceded him and your chin dropped. You had never seen or met him before but, when you heard his name, you knew who he was.

He was a member of parliament who used to be associated with the fascist, Sir Oswald Mosley, until they had a rather public falling out. And, he was also a known to be career criminal who owned several businesses in Small Heath.

“Why are you marrying a Jew after associating yourself with men like Mosley?” you asked carefully and quietly but the rabbi noticed and told you to be quiet.

“I have my reasons Love, now give me your hands” Thomas told you and shivers began to run down your spine.

You despised what he stood for and you knew that your uncle hated the fascists just as much as you did. So why was he doing this? What was he going to achieve by marrying you?

These intrusive thoughts went through your mind throughout the entire ceremony and you couldn’t even listen to what the rabbi had to say until it was done.

You were married now, to a man who you didn’t know, but thought you should fear.

***

“Mazal tov, now let’s celebrate our new reunion, eh” your uncle said cheerfully after you and your husband exchanged rings and broke the glass and, as usual, he didn’t adhere to any of the rules when he stepped up towards the alter.

“Mr Salmons, I will have to ask you to leave…” the rabbi began to say, shaking his head in disbelieve at your uncle’s attitude.

“Oh common, don’t be like this rabbi. You just married a non-Jew to a Jew so, me being up here with you, is the least of your problems. Despite, Tommy here isn’t even circumcised, eh” Alfie said and, by this point, you had become rather embarrassed about his behaviour.

You took your religion and this ceremony seriously and so did your parents. Yet, your uncle took a very light hearted approach to the sacrifice you had just made for the family and you didn’t appreciate that.

“Alfie, show some fucking respect, eh” Tommy said before apologising to you and the rabbi and you stepped down from the alter with your cheeks burning red. This wedding was a disaster and you wondered what else there was in store for you expect from the obvious.

***

Fortunately for you, there wasn’t much of a reception after the ceremony and, yet, you were reminded by both, your mother and your maid, that you had duties to fulfill that night.

“I am aware mother” you told her again, after already having had this conversation with her several times over.

You knew that you had to complete the ceremony in the traditional way and, as your uncle had told you, he was hoping that you would bear some heirs for the Shelby and Salomon empire in the future.

Being a mother had always been your desire and now that you were married, your wish may finally come to true. But, did you want children with a man like Thomas Shelby? You weren’t entirely sure.

The other question was whether he wanted you at all. He hadn’t talked much to you following the ceremony and, when you approached him about the conclusion of your matrimony, he simply laughed.

“You actually want me to…” he began to speak with amusement and you were quick to interrupt him. Clearly, he had no idea what was expected of him during your first night as a married couple.

“We must Thomas. It is required” you told him and all he did in response was to cock his eyebrows.

“Alright then Love. I will see you at midnight, eh” he said, still chuckling in disbelieve and you wished that he would have informed himself of your traditions and the requirements of your union before marrying you.

He didn’t care about you, or any of this and yet, somehow, you were, by tradition and custom, required to obey and serve him and to bear his children.

***

As Tommy had required, just before midnight, you laid down on the large cushioned bed inside your bedroom which you didn’t share with your husband.

You already removed your wedding gown as you had been told to do by your maid, now wearing nothing but white satin panties and a white satin nightgown which was the same nightgown your mother had bought for you for this very special and particular occasion.

It was pretty, modest and practical for completion of the ceremony which, traditionally, was done by the obvious act of intimacy.

Until such act was being conducted, you had to stay pure and this was something you adhered to. Your God’s values aligned with yours and this was the very reason you remained a virgin until now even though it felt somewhat improper and upsetting to give up your virginity to a man who you barely knew.

It was your duty and your obligation nonetheless to give this purity to your husband and whilst you didn’t exactly choose to be with him, you were about to have sex with him. You had agreed to this out of your own believes and contrition and you were determined to go through with it.

To get you into the mood, your maid had lit some candles and placed them all around the bedroom. And, it was also your maid who had explained the act to you in the past.

She told you that, your first time, was going to be painful and she also told you that you may never learn to enjoy sex in the future. According to her, it was simply your duty as a wife to satisfy the needs of your husband and bear his children.

She recalled her own wedding night as having been disastrous but it gave her what she now loved the most, her beautiful ten-year-old son.

A son was what your uncle told you needed to give to your husband. He already had one, but one was not enough. He needed many to look after his business affairs.

***

With that in mind, you prepared yourself and prayed for a successful conception. Being a mother was your ultimate goal and desire and, when your husband finally entered your bedroom at around midnight as promised, your heart began to race like crazy.

The nervousness you were encountering was nerve-racking and, the truth was that, you just really wanted to get this last part of your union over and done with.

“Are you sure that you want to proceed this way? Because we really don’t have to do this as far as I am concerned” your husband said with a little concern and it was almost like sleeping with you was transactional rather than something he desired to do.

“Yes. I am sure Thomas. It is required by our religion and I value our traditions. Let me fulfill my duties as your wife and bear you children” you told him and he immediately cocked his eyebrows at you again.

“Alright then” he said nonetheless. He was a man with needs after all and, with that, he took off his suit jacket, shoes and tie before approaching the bed slowly.

It didn’t take long for you to feel his weight on the bed and you were surprised by the fact that he didn’t even bother to get undressed.

“Have you ever had sex before Love?” he then asked bluntly while nudging your legs apart and positioning himself in between them in a kneeling position.

“No I haven’t” you admitted as you felt part of his weight on top of you after he had lowered himself onto you slowly and you inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of his aftershave.

“Alright, then I will be gentle, eh” Tommy said somewhat reassuringly as hand began to trace down your body, right beneath your panties and, eventually, he slid his fingers over your naked mound.

“Do you want me to take off my clothes?” you stammered nervously after shrieking at the sudden contact. This was the first time anyone but yourself had explored this region with his hands and, to your surprise, the feeling was rather pleasant.

“No Love. There is no need” he told you while he began toying with your soft little pussy.

“I didn’t expect you to be so wet already. This should be easy” your husband then said with a husky voice as his finger traced the exact outline of your vulva. He explored each fold, then toyed with your slit for a moment, and then slid his finger up towards your clit.

“I am?” you asked, moaning and stammering all at the same time. It was all you could say as it was almost too much for you to tolerate. You had never been with a man before and, whilst you were extremely nervous and even somewhat embarrassed about it, you were also extremely aroused by the idea of having sex for the first time.

It was obvious to you that your husband’s fingers were busy with a purpose. Within a split second, he had pushed the crotch of your underwear aside, while two of his fingers applied gentle pressure to your labia. He nudged the folds apart, and revealed what must have been a small opening.

“You are and I think that you are ready to take my cock now. But, don’t worry, I will go slow, eh?” Tommy then said as he pulled himself back up for a minute and unzipped his pants.

“Okay” you stammered again as he pushed down his pants and briefs but, before you could get a good look at his member, he leaned back down and positioned himself in between your legs.  

“Spread your legs a bit wider for me Love” he ordered you before he bucked his hips forward.

“Okay” you responded once more while clenching onto the sheets with your fists in anticipation.

“That it Love” Tommy cooed as, suddenly, the crown of his manhood rushed inwards and penetrated you without any warning whatsoever. Even the tip of his cock was enough to make your entire body tense up, and you groaned bitterly in response to the sudden intrusion.

There was an immediate burning soreness, as you felt your nether regions struggle to accommodate the intruder.

Tommy’s fingers eased their touch, and you felt your labia softly collapsing around his bulbous cockhead.

“Common Love. Let me push inside. You can take it” Tommy groaned while you struggled to breathe and then he uttered a simple moan, guttural and pleased.

“You are too big. You need to go slow” you told him as he continued to push his crotch towards yours. His erection slid deeper, and closer to your virginity. "

“You will get used to it. Trust me” your husband responded while you whimpered in confusion and with arousal. It felt too overwhelming but you knew that it had to be done. It was part of the ceremony and you needed to fulfill your duty as a wife.

“The more we do it, the easier it will get” Tommy then said as his member moved slowly but deliberately and you were distinctly aware of the exact shape and size of his cockhead.

“Okay” you said through gritted teeth while the walls of your vagina had formed a seal around that first inch of Tommy’s manhood and you could vividly imagine every ridge and vein adorning his shaft.

“Just keep your legs open for me, alright Love? Don’t fight it” Tommy then said and, after you nodded again, his cockhead applied pressure to what felt like a barrier. A thin membrane. Your treasured hymen. It was the one sign that you never had sexual intercourse and your panic grew worse. You knew that, what was about to come, would be rather painful.

“It hurts” you eventually pointed out as Tommy kept on moving inside of you slowly and the incredibly vulnerable, thin membrane inside you slowly began to tear.

“I know Love, but it will get better. I promise. Just try to relax and let me inside of you” Tommy said reassuringly and the only panicked reaction you could think of was to shut your legs slightly.

But it didn’t matter and, a short moment later, it happened. Tommy pushed forward and your hymen stretched a little more, and then collapsed.

“That’s it Love” he groaned in approval as your naked pussy clamped down on his erection, and you cried out bitterly.

“Oh god” you screamed as there was a sharp, stinging pain when Tommy tore your hymen and, luckily for you, the pain rapidly faded into a dull soreness.

Unlike the pain, the soreness was a sensation that you could tolerate and so you began to relax.

“You feel so good Love. So very tight and wet” Tommy cooed and, after feeling you relax around him, Tommy pulled back just a little, and then plunged deeper in than before. Multiple inches of his erection were being shoved into you, and you could feel your insides stretched taut to surround him.

“Thomas…” you moaned. It was such a surreal experience. You could feel your husband’s cock inside of you, and its heat was mixing with yours. More so than that, you awkwardly began to notice that your body continued to react on its own. Heat was building inside your loins, and you could feel yourself getting wetter because of the constant stimulation.

“You are going to take my cock so well, aren’t you, eh? Every fucking inch of it” Tommy groaned again in approval as he had unlimited access to your freshly deflowered womanhood.

You clutched onto his shoulder and, with rhythmical thrusts, in and out, he coaxed your pussy into opening up inch by inch. He was unknowingly easing your body into accepting his entire length. It kept going one inch at a time, until you could finally feel his crotch warm against yours. You could feel Tommy’s erection so deep inside of you, just beneath your navel. You were completely connected.

He seemed to cherish the moment and the wet heat, while your vagina desperately clenched down on his erection. Not a trace of his cock was left outside and you could feel the head of his member push straight against your cervix.

“Oh god, fuck” you murmured again as, each time Tommy pushed in particularly vigorously, you could hear a wet squelch coaxed out of your vagina. You had really gotten wet, dripping wet.

Tommy’s pace however had never changed, it was one continuous motion of sliding out, and back in. You did begin to feel yourself getting sore from the frequent friction, especially given the lack of foreplay. But you gave in to the moment nonetheless, just like a good wife would do. You wanted to satisfy your husband.

“Spread your legs wider Love and open up for me” Tommy told you as he kept on going and the bulbous crown of his erection scraped against your tender insides each time he withdrew. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to walk the following day if he was going to keep with this for much longer and you knew that you were raw inside.

“Let’s finish this ceremony, eh?” he then said as on the lower half of your body, you could feel Tommy’s hands reaching for a tighter grip of your thighs. He began to pull you closer, making sure that the entirety of his erection was safely embedded inside your youthful vagina.

"You are too deep” you moaned, feeling the pain against your cervix once again but Tommy simply uttered a weak grunt, and stopped moving.

You were at his mercy and the lips of your pussy were tautly embracing the very base of his erection as he began to move again, admistering deep and firm thrusts.

It was painful and you closed your eyes, concentrating on the weird sensations building inside of you. You could hear Tommy groan loudly and feel his erection beginning to throb intensely against the tight embrace of your womanhood. It was like a wild thrashing of his manhood, pulsing angrily against the snug confines of your vagina. For as long as it lasted, his fingers were pressing almost painfully into your flesh to keep you close. The sudden response was unexpected and startling. Due to your lack of experience, you had no idea what just occurred and a long moment passed before you calmed down again.

There was a long moment during which nothing was said, and nothing more happened. It was just you and him, your bodies joined together.

Eventually, the girth of Tommy’s manhood began to shrink while he continued to calm down his breathing.

“Are you alright Love?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yes” you confirmed as you felt a strange liquid heat spreading through your loins, faster than any other sensation you had felt before.

Your eyes opened wide as you could feel this foreign warmth rapidly spreading inside of your vagina, filling the empty spaces that were left by your husband’s softening appendage. He had done it. He completed the ceremony in the way it was meant to be done in the traditional way.

“Good, now you better get some rest, eh?” he said as you fumbled to reach down with your hands, and awkwardly grabbed and tugged on year satin nightgown while Tommy pulled his softening cock out of you.

He lost no time and pulled up his pants while you observed the sore area in between your legs.

A pool of his cum mixed with some of your blood had left with his shaft, leaving a sticky mess behind and Tommy moved his head so that he could get a better view of your red raw pussy as well.

“I have some work to do. I will see you at breakfast, eh?” he then said all so casually while reaching for his handkerchief and wiping away the cum and blood from in between your legs, cleaning you up gently.

“Yes. Okay Thomas” you said while straightening up your nightgown to regain some of your modesty and, for some reason, you felt strange about what happened between you and your husband.

You knew that he was your husband and this is what should be happening between husband and wife and, yet, it felt unnatural to you.

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[smutsonian]

checkmate

the salesman (squid game) x female reader

summary: salesman obsessing over a client’s daughter

warnings: 18+, darkish fic, manipulation, smut, breeding kink, creampie, jealous salesman, lil bit of praise kink

word count: 2.2k

a/n: new salesman fic who dis? @crappedoutlungs​ i drickin love you always and forever please never drop my ass in the dirt/thank you for proofreading. also this was a praise kink and jealous salesman request but idk if i did this right so i apologize in advance

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The salesman has been keeping an eye on you. You've been trying to solve the case like a cute little detective since your father went missing because no one else was willing to help you.

Who would when the man you’re trying to look for has been in trouble for more than ten fingers can count. With the amount of time he's spent in and out of prison, your father has clearly made a name for himself among the cops. Everyone at the station is aware of the bad people your father has been working with. Your father's debts, which he continues to avoid. It was inevitable for him to cross the wrong person, and it appears that he has already done so.

Who would help such a man? 

The salesman did. He gave him one of those call cards for the infamous game after he slapped him a bunch of times, secretly enjoying it.

When he found out about you, he wished he'd done more harm. Concerning what your father has subjected you to. The daughter who works nearly 24 hours a day just to pay bills that keep disappearing because your father manages to talk you into giving him the money.

He realized you weren't that difficult to persuade. Because the salesman knows how much you adore your father, it was easy money for him. If he'd known how bad your father was to you, he'd have replaced the slaps with punches.

He, on the other hand, is devising a strategy. He's been keeping an eye on you as you've attempted to solve your father's disappearance. He thought your dedication was endearing, and he enjoyed watching your little adventures, despite the fact that they were futile.

He was content to simply observe you as you scanned the station for clues about your father's whereabouts.

He was content with admiring your beauty from a distance.

Until he wasn’t.

Until the new young cop began paying more attention to you.

Oh, the clients he was playing with were victims of his jealousy, his slaps being even harder than his usual hard slaps.

The young cop was clearly more interested in you than in your father's disappearance, but you were too naive to notice. You're so desperate to find your horrible father that you don't even care about yourself.

The salesman’s eye twitches in annoyance when the young cop wraps his arm around you when you shivered at the coldness in the station. The red paper in the salesman’s hand gets crinkled up as he continues to watch you in someone else’s arms.

He was the one looking out for you ever since your father disappeared and even if he was the one who’s behind it, he never let you out of his sight, looking after you and threatening those who even tried to glance at you with ill-intent.

The young cop was no different. He was just there to get into your pants. The young girl who was desperate to find her missing father.

He wasn’t going to let some young boy get his dirty pathetic hands on you.

No, he was going to do something about it.

The salesman would’ve laughed at how easy it was to frame the young cop of masterminding your father’s disappearance. The clothes that your father wore before the games started, planted at the young cop’s home. 

It was rewarding to see you looking at the young cop with disgust and betrayal while he was being cuffed and put into the backseat of that police car.

He would’ve rejoiced at the way the young cop’s face became so desperate, afraid, and lost if it wasn’t for your sulking form.

It touched the salesman’s heart and before he knew it, he was walking towards you who’s currently sitting on the sidewalk, head pressed to your curled knees, shoulders jumping as you sobbed your heart out.

The salesman didn’t want that for you and it was enough to make him approach you like you just have a pull towards him. You controlled him without even knowing it.

“Here,” he watches as you raise your head from your knees, eyes glistening with tears and nose running, yet you still looked like the most beautiful flower in the garden.

His heart skipped a beat when you took the white hanky he was holding out for you, your cold fingers brushing against his firm hand.

“Thanks,” your soft whisper was music to his ears and he wanted it to be the last song he listens to before he dies.

He ignores the way your body stiffened when he sits on the pavement beside you, he’d fix that later. Just like how he’ll fix you and your broken heart.

“W-what are you doing?” Oh, how he adored your shy voice. He looks at you, your eyes looking at him with wonder and confusion.

“You look like you need a friend,” he only smiled, patting your knee softly before looking away from you. He had to stop himself from pouncing on you even though it’s the only thing he wants to do. 

He’s going to let you heal first. He’ll heal you.

“Oh,” was your response and he just kept his silence knowing that you prefer that instead of forcing her to recall all the mishaps that’s been happening to her.

It’s not like he needs to know about it anyway. He already knows everything about you. 

His lips curl at the way you shuffled closer to him when a burst of wind passes the both of you. He basked at the feeling of your head slowly falling down his shoulder and slightly frowning when you picked it back up, apologizing profusely at him which he waved at nonchalantly.

He offered to drive you home but turned down your offer for a cup of coffee. As much as he wanted to go inside your home with you, he had to wait. He couldn’t push all things at once or you might slip away.

His patience was rewarded when you finally started opening up to him. Even allowed him to sleep over from time to time. 

The next big thing that he was rewarded with was the trust you gave him when you asked him to drink with you. He knew how drunk you can be and he preened at the thought of you trusting him like that so when you became a drunken mess, he took care of you.

He respectfully changed you out of your dirty clothes and helped you with cleaning up after yourself before placing you on the bed.

To top things off, he slept on your couch, eager to play the role of a sweet gentleman. 

He was rewarded the next morning when you woke him up with the smell of a delicious breakfast.

He watched you as you prepared a plate for him, loving the domestic display and daydreaming about the day when you’re finally his wife, hopefully round with his kid. He’ll spoil you with everything. He’ll be the perfect husband.

You place the plate in front of him with a shy smile before sitting next to him, closer than you usually would and he hides his smirk by taking a spoonful of the meal you made for him.

He compliments the food, loving the way you avoided his gaze. You’re adorable when you’re shy.

“Jun-ho was the one who taught me the recipe,” was your way of trying to cover the awkward silence but it only managed to fuel the salesman’s anger.

Jun-ho was the young cop who betrayed you, or at least that’s what you believe. So, why would you even speak about that boy?

Your eyes widened when he visibly stopped eating, face blank as he stared at the food that looked so delicious but was now staring back at him like it was mocking him.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk about him,” you apologized, hands cupping his forearm desperately. Like you’re begging for his forgiveness.

His ego was boosted again.

He was going to play his part again and he’ll finally get you after this.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m only worried about you. I don’t want you thinking about the bad memories, okay?” He covers both of your hands with his big ones, long fingers easily caging yours. The fondness in your eyes and the glint that passed through it was enough to make the salesman smile.

You were finally in his clutch.

As expected, your shyness was replaced with adrenaline and you suddenly moved forward to kiss his lips. He would’ve returned the kiss but he was still playing a part. He has to finish this act in order to finally have you in his arms. For you to be finally his.

He watches as you pull back, the embarrassment and shyness back in your features as you realized that he was not kissing back and had a look of shock on his face. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know what came over me!” You apologized again and again until he was cupping your warm cheeks with his cold hands compared to the heat of your body. 

“I liked it,” he says shyly, loving the way your eyes lit up at his sentence.

“You did?” 

He nods in response, looking down like a shy boy before saying the final script that would make you crawl in his arms.

“I just don’t want you to do something that you would regret. You’re hurting from your loss and I don’t want you to be forced to—”

He couldn’t even finish his words because you're back on him, more eager and demanding this time. Your tongue was inside his lips and this time he was reciprocating your vigor.

He can’t hold back anymore.

“Please. I want this,” you moaned through the kiss.

He won’t hold back anymore.

“You’re so beautiful,” he pulls away, watching your love drunk eyes before picking you up and heading straight for your bed.

He lays you down with so much care that he can see the way your eyes were making heart shapes for him.

He makes a move to take your clothes off and you let him. He watches as your eyes flutter when he takes his time, his fingers brushing your thighs softly down to your ankles.

“Is this okay?” He asks when he makes his way to what’s between your legs, ready to get a taste of you.

You shake your head before pulling his body up until his face is right in front of yours.

“I want you inside me now,” you all but begged. 

He smirks when you keep your eyes shut, waiting for him to just take you. 

He wants to hear you beg though.

“A-are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” he stutters, cursing in his mind because all he wants to do is shove his thick hard aching cock inside you.

“Please! Just fuck me. Just fuck me right now, please!” You grab at his backside pulling him close and he shudders at the contact.

Well, don’t mind if I do.

He kisses you before pushing in, slowly at first but goes fast when you keep pulling him closer.

“You feel so good… You’re amazing!” He whispers through moans as he continues to thrust in and out of your sopping slit.

Your moans only push him more into insanity and the picture of you with that Jun-ho guy makes his blood boil. 

You're his now. Nobody will be able to get you now. Not even Jun-ho.

He growls as his pace becomes stronger and your wanton moans only urge him to keep pounding into you.

He watches your face as he continues to plow into you, your hole eagerly clenching around him and when you open your eyes, he does his best to stop himself from cumming because your eyes were looking at him with so much love.

“Please cum inside me,” you mutter through gasps as he keeps his pace strong and fast.

“Such a good girl for me.”

You let out a whine when he hits a certain spot and your next words were what made him finally spill inside you.

“Oh, god! I love you! I love you so much!” You finally scream, feeling his warm liquid squirting inside you, your legs shaking in ecstasy as he continues to ride you through your orgasms.

He watches you fall apart beneath him and smiles at the sex drunk look that your eyes have.

“You mean that?” He bites his lip, genuinely nervous now as he lays down beside you.

You turn to him, fingers dancing across his face, admiring the little hairs that were starting to grow.

“I do. I love you,” you press a shy kiss on his lips before looking at his eyes that were starting to tear up.

“Are you oka-”

“I love you too,” he cuts you off and presses a kiss on your lips as well but longer and more passionately than the one you gave.

“You’re mine now,” he bites your lips and you chuckle at his possessiveness.

“I’m yours,” you assured him, still blind and unknowing of how his plans worked out very well and how you unknowingly yet perfectly played in his game.

Nothing mattered to him anymore.

The only thing that does is you being in his arms.

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